http://www.asee-prism.org/dimmer-switch/
*November 2022 *By Mark Matthews

Aerospace engineer James T. Early built a 30-year career at the Lawrence
Livermore National Laboratory working out big ideas. Among them: the use of
pulsed lasers to knock space debris out of orbit, and a giant
telescope—powerful enough to detect planets in distant solar systems—with
lenses that roll up to fit inside a rocket and then spread out when
launched in space. Trained at MIT, Caltech, and Stanford, Early drew
inspiration from the science fiction of Isaac Asimov and Arthur C. Clarke.
When his wife wanted to try her hand at the genre, he outlined a debut
plot: terraforming Venus. An immense sun-blocking shield, he theorized,
could cool the planet over time and turn its scorching, desiccated surface
into a human habitat.

Early wondered if a scaled-down sunshield could solve the real-life problem
of a warming Earth caused by carbon-spewing power plants and vehicle
exhaust. In three terse pages published in the *Journal of the British
Interplanetary Society* in 1989, he spelled out a “conceptually simple
method” for offsetting the heat-trapping greenhouse effect and cutting
global temperatures by 2 degrees Celsius (3.6°F). A glass shield could be
fabricated on the moon out of lunar soil and dispatched, using an
electromagnetic accelerator, to the first Lagrange point (L1), a million
miles from Earth, where the gravitational pull of the Earth and sun cancel
each other out. He hazarded a price tag of $1 trillion to $10
trillion—“enormous,” yes, but perhaps much lower than the economic impact
of the greenhouse effect.

Roger Angel, an esteemed astronomer at the University of Arizona, built on
Early’s idea in 2006. He conceived a giant space cloud at L1 comprising
trillions of thin reflective satellites, each a meter wide and weighing 1
gram. These little “flyers” would be kept aligned with the sun by solar
sails, which are powered by photons of sunlight bouncing off a mirrored
surface. Manufactured on Earth, the satellites would be sent aloft to L1 in
stacks of 800,000 using electromagnetic acceleration and ion propulsion.
They would form a cloud some 60,000 miles long and 2,000 miles across,
weighing 20 million tons. Angel’s detailed six-page description in the
*Proceedings
of the National Academy of Sciences* estimated a cost of “a few trillion
dollars.” The idea, he wrote, might be desirable if “dangerous changes in
global climate were inevitable.”

Early and Angel were each ahead of their time in combining futuristic space
technology with the science of preventing catastrophic climate change. But
their vision of a vast sunshield looks a bit more realistic now, amid such
advances as a fledgling space tourism industry, reusable rockets curbing
the cost of space launches, and growing interest in space-based
manufacturing and moon and asteroid mining. Meanwhile, as the effects of
climate change become alarmingly clear and warnings by the
Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change grow more precise and ominous, a
growing number of scientists, engineers, graduate students, and members of
Congress are looking to geoengineering as a possible when-all-else-fails
technical fix for an overheating planet.

Enter Space Bubbles, a 2022 variation on the sunshield idea from a team of
MIT engineers. Led by Carlo Ratti, director of the university’s Senseable
City Lab, the group envisions giant space platforms—“rafts”—composed of
stuck-together inflatable spheres of thin-film silicon or another molten
material, positioned slightly closer to the sun than L1. The spheres would
be manufactured using “space-based fabrication methods” not clearly
defined. Like the Early and Angel concepts, the rafts would block 1.8
percent of the sun’s rays—an amount sufficient to prevent dangerous
warming. The cooling could begin by the end of this century, “when the most
severe consequences of climate change are currently predicted,” the team
says. As to price, “Our initial estimations suggest that the Space Bubble
Raft will have lower mass-density than Roger Angel’s proposal and might
thus be more cost-efficient,” Ratti tells *Prism.*

Space Bubbles brings a disruptive, Elon Musk-style audacity to
geoengineering (also known as climate intervention) and to the small but
prolific community of scientists and engineers who have spent years or even
decades studying other climate-cooling methods that would operate much
closer to the Earth’s surface. Members of this community would prefer that
such methods never be necessary; almost in unison, they insist that
geoengineering would not be a substitute for slashing greenhouse gas
emissions. But they work with the intensity of people who view climate
intervention as an essential hedge against disaster and want to ensure that
its feasibility and risks are understood. As Douglas MacMartin, a Cornell
University aerospace engineer and geoengineering researcher, explains, the
goal is to “provide enough knowledge that the world . . . can make informed
decisions about this” versus “knee-jerk” reactions such as “‘Oh, things are
desperate. We need to go try something,’” or “‘Oh, that sounds like a bad
idea. We shouldn’t do it.’”
Policy Matters

Increasingly, people in Washington agree. Citing “potentially catastrophic
consequences” of global warming, a panel of the National Academies of
Science, Engineering, and Medicine (NASEM) last year urged the federal
government to establish, in coordination with other countries, a modest
transdisciplinary research program on solar geoengineering (SG) that
“attempts to moderate warming by increasing the amount of sunlight that the
atmosphere reflects back to space or by reducing the trapping of outgoing
thermal radiation.” The NASEM panel, which included MacMartin, said
knowledge gained from the recommended research “will be critical for
informing climate change response strategies, and evidence either in favor
or disfavor of SG deployment could have profound value.”

As NASEM issued its findings, Congress directed the White House Office of
Science and Technology Policy (OSTP) to develop a working group among the
non-defense federal science agencies to manage near-term climate hazard
risk and coordinate climate intervention research. The working group
“should also establish a research governance framework to provide guidance
on transparency, engagement, and risk management for publicly funded work
in solar geoengineering research,” appropriators said.

A congressional mandate, participation of multiple federal agencies, and
direction from the White House promise to elevate geoengineering from a
controversial niche science to a mainstream research field relevant to
policymakers. David Keith, a Harvard applied physicist and an influential
proponent of geoengineering research, has been calling publicly for such a
step since at least 2010. (See *Prism’s* October 2013 Up Close profile
<https://www.asee-prism.org/up-close-oct-1/> and February 2019 cover story.)
<https://www.asee-prism.org/polar-prospects/> Testifying that year before
the House Science and Technology Committee, he likened geoengineering to
chemotherapy as an undesirable but possibly necessary emergency measure.
“We must hope for the best while laying plans to navigate the worst,” Keith
told the lawmakers.

Planning for “the worst” is shaping up as prudent strategy. The world has
failed to keep pace with the cuts in greenhouse gas emissions required by
the 2015 Paris agreement, which aims to cap the global temperature this
century at well below 2 degrees Celsius above preindustrial levels and
calls for progress toward a limit of 1.5 degrees Celsius (about 2.7°
Fahrenheit). The $369 billion in US climate and clean energy programs
contained in the recently enacted Inflation Reduction Act falls short in
fulfilling the country’s pledge to slash emissions. Some provisions do win
applause from experts, however. For instance, the new law’s measures to
control methane, a super-potent greenhouse gas, are “very encouraging,”
says Yangyang Xu, an assistant professor of atmospheric sciences at Texas
A&M University. He adds: “The direct and heavy penalty imposed on future
[methane] leakage, if done with careful monitoring and verification, is a
game changer, and can serve as a model for limiting other non-CO₂
 emissions.”
Solar Systems

A coordinated federal research effort on geoengineering has been a long
time coming. As early as 1965, a study appended to a White House
environmental report found that the warming effects of a carbon dioxide
buildup “could be deleterious” for humanity and urged that “countervailing
climatic changes” be thoroughly explored. Led by oceanographer Roger
Revelle, then director of Harvard’s Center for Population Studies, the
study suggested the Earth could be cooled by increasing the albedo, or
reflectivity, of the earth’s surface. One way to do that, it said, would be
to spread very small reflecting particles over large areas of the ocean.

The recent NASEM panel called for government-backed research focused on
three sunlight-blocking, or solar radiation modification (SRM), methods.
The first, solar aerosol injection (SAI), involves discharging tiny
particles into the stratosphere, an upper layer of the atmosphere between
10 and 50 kilometers (6 to 30 miles) above the Earth’s surface. The concept
dates from work published in the mid-1970s by Soviet climatologist Mikhail
Budyko. It gained credibility in a 2006 essay by Paul Crutzen, who shared
the 1995 Nobel Prize in chemistry for discovering how pollutants in the
atmosphere were destroying the ozone layer. SAI is widely considered the
method most likely to work because nature has provided a proof of concept.
Volcanic eruptions spew out huge amounts of ash containing sulfur dioxide.
Lofted to the stratosphere, the sulfur dioxide reacts with water to form a
layer of sulfuric acid droplets that reflect and diffuse incoming sunlight
and radiant heat. When the Philippines’ Mount Pinatubo erupted in 1991,
“stratospheric winds spread these aerosol particles around the globe,”
resulting in “a measurable cooling of the Earth’s surface” for almost two
years, NASA reported in 2001.

A second SRM method, marine cloud brightening, entails spraying seawater
into low-lying clouds above the ocean to make them more reflective. Cirrus
cloud thinning—a third, less well studied form of cooling—would break up
the delicate strands of ice-crystal clouds above 20,000 feet and let heat
rising from the earth’s surface escape the atmosphere. SRM methods alarm
many environmentalists, primarily for two reasons: 1) they don’t remove the
root cause of climate change, namely the accumulation of greenhouse gases
in the atmosphere and 2) they could ease pressure on societies and
governments to keep cutting emissions.

OSTP’s anticipated strategy won’t start from scratch; federal support for
geoengineering research has occurred mostly under the radar but hasn’t been
totally lacking. In 2020, Congress provided $4 million to the National
Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration (NOAA) to initiate what the agency
says is “much-needed ‘baseline’ research” on climate intervention
proposals—particularly SAI. Congress upped funding this year to $9 million,
instructing NOAA to expand its efforts and coordinate with NASA and the
Department of Energy (DOE).

Computer modeling has provided much of what is now known about
geoengineering’s potential and risks. The Intergovernmental Panel on
Climate Change draws from more than two dozen modeling centers for its
climate assessments, but one of the most important is the National Center
for Atmospheric Research (NCAR), sponsored by the National Science
Foundation and headquartered in the Rocky Mountain foothills in Boulder,
Colorado. In addition to providing vital data on the Earth’s climate and
weather, NCAR also serves as a nerve center for geoengineering studies,
enabling global academic collaboration on experiments using ever more
advanced models and a high-performance computer in Cheyenne, Wyoming.
Expect the Unexpected

The teaming up of NOAA, NASA, and DOE will expand the tools available for
researchers to observe the climate system—such as satellites, balloons,
aircraft capable of reaching the lower stratosphere, and, soon, a
next-generation NCAR supercomputer. The anticipated result: improved
models. But a host of questions remain. “Every time we go up in the
atmosphere and make measurements, we find things we didn’t expect, things
we didn’t know we would see,” says Gregory Frost, a NOAA supervisory
research chemist.

For instance, scientists know that sulfur dioxide, injected into the
stratosphere, will form aerosols and lower the Earth’s temperature
temporarily—but that’s just a piece of the puzzle, notes NCAR senior
scientist Simone Tilmes, a leader in solar geoengineering research. “We
know we can cool, but we don’t know how much injection we actually need to
cool. There’s still a huge uncertainty on how much you can cool with a
certain amount of injection,” she explains. “We also need to understand the
positive and negative consequences of a possible application [of SAI] and
weigh risks and benefits before any of these [options] should be
considered.”

As Cornell’s MacMartin puts it, “A lot of the research to date has been
kind of trying things: ‘Hey, we’ll go try this strategy, scenario, climate
model, and we’ll see what happens.’” Over time, the discovery of negative
side effects has prompted modelers to explore ways of tweaking, for
instance, the degree of cooling achieved or location of aerosol injections.
Eventually, MacMartin hopes, scientists will be able to say, “We’ve looked
at the response in a number of different climate models . . . Here’s what
we think will happen. And here’s how confident we are in that assessment.”

MacMartin, Yale lecturer Wake Smith, and others recently studied the
concept of deploying stratospheric aerosol injection only in subpolar
regions. Such action wouldn’t cool the global climate, but it could halt or
even reverse the melting of Arctic ice that now threatens to cause a
substantial rise in sea levels, the scholars say.

Live outdoor testing of SAI would buttress existing research with accurate
observations, even if the testing doesn’t answer all the outstanding
questions. But an attempt by Harvard researchers last year showed just how
strong public opposition can be even to research on geoengineering. The
team planned to send up a balloon to release a small quantity of aerosols
into the stratosphere. Following years of preparation, funded in part by
Bill Gates, the team explored various launch venues. Ultimately, it
partnered with the Swedish Space Corporation and made plans to use its base
near Kiruna, Sweden, above the Arctic Circle. The initial flight would
merely test the equipment and not spray any aerosol. But the stratospheric
controlled perturbation experiment (SCoPEx) drew strong local opposition
and was put on hold. The indigenous Sámi people, whose ancestral homeland
stretches across Arctic regions of Sweden, Norway, Finland, and Russia,
joined with Swedish environmental groups to lobby against SCoPEX, citing
“risks of catastrophic consequences, including the impact of uncontrolled
termination, and irreversible sociopolitical effects.”
Lists of Concerns

“I think the political barriers might be much stronger than the technical
barriers,” says Alan Robock, environmental science professor at Rutgers
University. Renowned for projecting the human, climatic, and ecological
consequences of nuclear war—“We have to solve the problem of nuclear
weapons so we have the luxury of worrying about global warming,” he
says—Robock also applies his forensic research skills to geoengineering. In
2008 he published “20 Reasons Why Geoengineering May be a Bad Idea.” His
tally of “risks and concerns” has since grown to 28. For SAI, they include
depletion of stratospheric ozone, which helps block harmful ultraviolet
rays; increased ocean acidification; a greater likelihood of droughts in
some parts of the world; the need to keep increasing SAI because existing
particles will grow and become less effective; and the danger of a sudden
warming spike if SAI were ever shut down. “It’s like pulling back on a
spring,” Robock told *The Takeaway,* a public radio talk show.

As concerns remain about SAI, another proposed method of solar
modification, marine cloud brightening (MCB), engenders a fundamental
question. That is, can you actually brighten clouds? “Clouds are a really
complicated species,” says Robert Wood, a professor of atmospheric sciences
at the University of Washington and principal investigator of a research
collaboration on MCB. The brightening idea originated with British
physicist John Latham, who proposed it two years after starting work on
climate change at NCAR.

Scientists know that clouds cool the earth’s surface and believe their
reflectivity can be enhanced based on observations of cloud responses to
aerosols emitted in ship exhaust. “Since preindustrial times, human
activity has injected a lot of aerosols and they have exerted a cooling
effect on the planet that partly offsets warming by greenhouse gases,” Wood
says. “So we think it’s feasible.” But, he adds, “the clouds don’t always
do things that you think they’re going to do.” Their internal dynamics are
too fine-grained to show up in climate models.

Testing of Latham’s theory has begun on Australia’s Great Barrier Reef, a
World Heritage Site where climate change is killing coral. Wood’s team is
planning tests using vessels that spray seawater into the air, forming
particles of salt that would be lofted upward by warm air to low-lying
clouds. Conducted over a limited area of the ocean, the tests would have
minimal environmental impact but yield important information, the group
says. Worldwide, however, MCB’s potential impact is unclear. According to a
2009 British modeling study, while MCB would slow the pace of global
warming, it could also disrupt rainfall patterns. Some areas would likely
get wetter, others drier—particularly the Amazon rain forest, “a major sink
for carbon dioxide.”
‘Explore the Edges’

The notion of applying space technology to geoengineering has produced
comparatively little research over the years, apart from the growing use of
satellites for climate and atmospheric observations. Among those intrigued
by James Early’s 1989 idea was Edward Teller, the Lawrence Livermore
National Laboratory co-founder who was known as the father of the hydrogen
bomb. In 1997, Teller published the idea of a space-based metallic shield
to scatter sunlight. Another was Colin McInnes, now an aerospace
engineering professor at the University of Glasgow, who read Early’s
article as a PhD student. He went on to develop new approaches to a space
shield, most recently in 2015. “It’s one of these ideas that sticks with
you,” he tells *Prism.* McInnes went on to explore, with Cranford
University colleague Joan-Pau Sánchez, a system of multiple mobile
sunshades in space. This “optimal configuration” would both curb overall
global warming and allow the system to adjust the sunshade effects for
different latitudes and seasons, they wrote.

McInnes participated in a 2019 Harvard meeting that looked seriously at
various space-based geoengineering schemes. Meeting organizers concluded
that the concept “is not a plausible near-term goal or aspiration.” Still,
he sees value in the research: “What I think is interesting is that [with]
these concepts, you can explore, if you like, the edges of a problem or
where the boundaries might be. And that then gives you a better idea of
where to look for solutions.”

By not directly interfering in the Earth’s atmosphere, space-based
sunshades “appear to be one of the most efficient methods to tackle climate
change,” McInnes wrote in a paper coathored with Sánchez. The authors
acknowledged that the project would be equivalent in scale to a Three
Gorges Dam—China’s gigantic hydroelectric project—a million miles from
earth and require the manufacture of reflective material equal to a
decade’s worth of aluminum foil.

The 2021 NASEM report didn’t mention a space-based sunshield among its
recommended federal research topics—a sign that the panel concurs with
Robock’s conclusion that it’s “too expensive, too technologically
questionable.” Of Space Bubbles, Harvard’s Keith says Ratti’s team “has
cool tech, but when I met with them, they did not articulate any sensible
reason, other than just asserting it, why this would be a better pathway
than the existing pathways.” The idea generated press, he asserts, “not
because it’s important but because a story with MIT and space bubbles and
geoengineering was just too sweet to pass up.”
Work in Progress

Ratti is indeed a newcomer to geoengineering. Until recently, Senseable
City Lab has pursued climate adaptation and mitigation “by optimizing our
built environments and transportation infrastructures,” he says. The
website of his Turin, Italy-based architecture and engineering firm
features two examples: a synergistic pairing of autonomous taxis and a new
skyscraper in Singapore, and large thermal basins floating off Helsinki’s
harbor that serve as hot-water batteries for the city’s heating systems.
Now, Ratti says, “Earth-based climate solutions may not be enough, and more
radical technologies might be needed to address the coming climate
disaster.”

While Space Bubbles is still a “working hypothesis,” Ratti’s team says it
has simulated thin-film bubbles in outer space conditions and found they
could prove effective at deflecting solar radiation. The spheres could be
made of silicon-based melts or graphene-reinforced ionic liquids. Other
potential composites will be explored. But the team’s concept paper omits
details on how the bubble material reaches space, gets assembled, and is
stabilized.

The challenge of filling those gaps falls to Ratti and five MIT colleagues.
Two members of the National Academy of Engineering—computer scientist and
roboticist Daniela Rus, winner of a 2002 MacArthur “genius grant,” and
Gareth McKinley, professor of teaching innovation in the Department of
Mechanical Engineering—are joined by Charles Primmerman, a Lincoln
Laboratory high-energy laser expert; materials scientist Markus Buehler, a
specialist in bio-inspired design and in building materials atom by atom;
and aerospace engineer Paulo Lozano, director of the MIT Space Propulsion
Laboratory. Ratti says that “we expect other collaborators to join us at
MIT and beyond.”

With Space Bubbles, “we aim to develop a fully reversible space-based
solution,” Rus tells *Prism.* MIT’s Computer Science and Artificial
Intelligence Laboratory, which she directs, “will develop the robotic
devices and AI systems that will help control the space bubbles.”

If fabricating a vast sunshield at L1 still seems like performing the
impossible, McInnes ticks off advances, like reusable vehicles, that are
making space more accessible.

“If we are able to get much better at space robotics—if we can extract
materials from near-earth asteroids, for example—and if we develop
technologies for manufacturing large structures in space, then you can
imagine a future where all of those different technological strands . . .
come together” to make what now seems like an enormous technical challenge
potentially more feasible, says McInnes. There’s already strong interest in
in-orbit manufacturing, he adds.
Help Wanted

The biggest hurdle McInnes sees to any kind of geoengineering (space-based
or otherwise)—and the reason he is a skeptic about its implementation—is
governance: “the regulatory challenges of getting international agreement.”
Private groups are working on the problem. They include the Carnegie
Climate Governance Initiative launched by the Carnegie Council for Ethics
in International Affairs, which “seeks to catalyse the creation of
effective governance for climate-altering technologies” and the Global
Commission on Governing Risks from Climate Overshoot, formed to “recommend
a strategy to reduce risks should global warming goals be exceeded.” So
far, governments haven’t been publicly involved.

Keith, an adviser to the Climate Overshoot Commission’s secretariat, says
the United States and China loom large in any decision to deploy
geoengineering. “If the US and China both clearly want it, then it happens.
Conversely, if they both don’t want it, then it doesn’t.” If neither
superpower stakes out a strong position, “it’s quite possible small
countries could play a big role to determine what happens.”

If the world fails to meet the challenge of climate change and approaches
catastrophe, humanity might seek a fallback in aerospace engineer Early’s
science fiction plot of some 33 years ago. Venus, anyone?

*Source*: PRISM

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