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There’s disagreement about when the Atlantic Ocean current will collapse.

For a while now, something weird has been happening in the Atlantic Ocean.
The ocean’s circulatory current, a system called the Atlantic Meridional Overturning Circulation, or AMOC, seems to be slowing down. Scientists have long worried that what used to be a steady exchange of warm and cold water between the tropics and the North Atlantic is being disrupted by cold freshwater from melting Arctic ice, and could even shut down entirely, sending Northern Europe into a deep freeze and causing even more extreme heat to hit tropical regions.
What scientists haven’t agreed on, however, is when the AMOC might stop, though the latest report from the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change, or IPCC, predicted it should hold out through the end of the century. A new study, published Tuesday in Nature Communications, says otherwise: the AMOC, its authors say, will reach its “tipping point” by the middle of this century, and could collapse sometime between 2025 and 2095. If it does, it would bring rapid changes to the world’s climate of a type that haven’t been seen in over 12,000 years.
“When we first got these results, we didn't believe them ourselves,” said Susanne Ditlevsen, a mathematician at the University of Copenhagen and co-author, with her brother Peter Ditlevsen, of the new paper. “We were thinking that there's something wrong in what we're doing because we got estimates that are so off compared to the IPCC.”
It’s a striking study, and it can make us feel like catastrophe is not only looming but irreversible. But in many ways, this study is a microcosm of the many challenges that come with trying to predict — and speak definitively about — how our planet will change in the future.
“I personally think it’s very hard to say [a shutdown] is going to happen in the next 50 years,” said Zhengyu Liu, atmospheric sciences director at the Ohio State University. “There are lots of uncertainties.”
The IPCC report’s prediction, which it issued with “medium confidence,” is based on climate models that use supercomputers to simulate the physical processes that will change as the climate changes. Looking at those models, we see a gradual weakening of the AMOC over time rather than a sudden tipping point that leads to a collapse. But it’s possible, Liu said, that those models may present a world that is a little too stable. The influx of freshwater from melting glaciers is difficult to account for, and it’s possible the models used by the IPCC are too conservative.
To sidestep the issue of uncertainty over freshwater inflows (and, similarly, to avoid having to model for how the world responds to climate change over the next century) the Ditlevsen study instead used statistical modeling based on historic temperature records to study how the ocean’s temperature has fluctuated over time. They then predicted how those fluctuations might become increasingly unstable in the future. The bigger those fluctuations become, Ditlevsen said, the closer the AMOC gets to total collapse, and those fluctuations have recently been growing ever larger.
Temperature is a useful fingerprint when studying the AMOC, Liu said, but it’s just one fingerprint of a system that has only really been studied in earnest since 2004, when a network of sensors began collecting data on everything from temperature to salinity to ocean pressure. It’s difficult to say, with such limited data, whether extrapolating from just one fingerprint alone can truly predict a tipping point for the AMOC.
The big question, said Tom Delworth, a senior scientist at NOAA’s Geophysical Fluid Dynamics Laboratory, is the physics of how such a tipping point would work.
“Our models generally aren't showing these tipping points, and they’re based on our best physical understanding of the system,” Delworth told me. “So my question would be: what is missing from the models?”
Still, Delworth and Liu said, the Ditlevsen study is compelling, and it’s one of the first to attempt to put a timeline on the collapse of the AMOC. It’s also, as these studies tend to be, yet another reminder of the urgent need to reduce our dependence on fossil fuels and dramatically cut down on emissions.
The study’s authors intend to run their analysis again in five years, when they will have more data and should be able to come to a stronger conclusion on when exactly the AMOC could collapse. “We could have said, okay, let’s wait five years to publish this because maybe we are wrong, but I think we have the obligation to actually publish it now, because we believe that it’s correct.” Ditlevsen told me.
“I hope we are wrong,” she continued. “I hope we are wrong.”
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The data center boom is everywhere you look in U.S. economic and emissions data.
This is an edition of Heatmap Daily, an evening review of the day’s news written by our executive editor. Sign up for it here.
It isn’t exactly a new thought, but I’ve been struck recently by how many trends in America’s economic and environmental data are fundamentally about the data center boom and the return of electricity demand:
First, the Energy Information Administration reported this week that U.S. emissions grew by more than 2% last year, driven by surging electricity demand and an increase in coal-fired generation. What caused that higher power demand? New factories and data centers — as well as record summertime cooling demand.
Second, many of the new factories driving that higher power demand are themselves producing goods that are … let’s say … data center-adjacent. There are the enormous new semiconductor fabs, of course. But Ford and General Motors have also set up new production lines (or repurposed old ones) to manufacture grid-scale batteries to meet power demand.
Third, take a look at the recent U.S. spending on private non-residential construction — in other words, everything American companies are building that is not houses, condos, or apartments.
The construction industry’s spent almost $60 billion on data centers over the past year, which is more than it spent on all other office buildings combined (and more than it spent building warehouses, too). Just a handful of categories — data centers, power plants, electricity infrastructure, and certain kinds of electronics manufacturing — now make up a third of all U.S. private non-residential construction investment. They’ve never made up such a large share of construction spending since data collection began in 2014.
As The New York Times recently noted, the American economy is unusually dependent on the American stock market right now — and the stock market is unusually dependent on artificial intelligence. This week, investors started to balk at the enormous spending hyperscalers are planning to keep building out the AI boom; Alphabet’s shares dropped 8% this week after it boosted its planned 2026 capital expenditure and signaled 2027 will be even bigger. If the data center boom started to slow down in earnest, then more than just that budget will change.
Speaking of which, my colleague Emily Pontecorvo wrote earlier this week about how many businesses are struggling to even estimate their carbon emissions from artificial intelligence. The carbon accounting startup Watershed recently unveiled a new formula to help companies get a sense of their AI-related emissions.
But even that formula is still limited by the amount of data hyperscalers publish — and they don’t publish that much. Google, for instance, is the only AI company that has (laudably) provided estimates of its emissions on a per-prompt basis. Yet no company has published its per-token emissions, or how emissions sync up with particular models or regions.
So Emily asked Google: Why aren’t you — or any other model provider — disclosing this kind of data yet?
The tech company didn’t get back to us until after we’d published Emily’s story. But its response was interesting enough that I wanted to quote some of it here.
The problem is “industry consensus,” Cooper Elsworth, a Google spokesperson, told us. “There is currently very little consensus on how to comprehensively and fairly measure the serving environmental impact of generative AI (such as text generation),” he wrote. “Without standardized, ‘apples-to-apples’ frameworks, it is difficult to compare different providers accurately.”
That’s partly because energy use — and emissions data — can vary from site to site and depend on “custom-built hardware, software compilers, and advanced inference techniques.” And he claimed Google doesn’t always have the measurement hardware in place to provide such specific estimates: “Providing precise, repeatable data requires highly advanced measurement infrastructure,” he said. “For example, software-based energy monitoring tools often suffer from sampling biases. For our study, we had to step away from top-down averages and directly measure actual energy at the physical power supply unit (PSU) level across our deployed fleet. Not all providers have the telemetry or data sets required to benchmark their operations at this level of granularity.”
Read Emily’s story to understand the other reasons why estimating — or even “guesstimating” — AI-related carbon emissions is so challenging.
A conversation with Emma Uridge of the Kansas Health Institute.
This week’s conversation is with Emma Uridge, analyst with the Kansas Health Institute. Uridge spent copious hours analyzing state and local laws on data center development to best understand how policymakers are responding to the potential environmental public health impacts of large AI infrastructure, including power and water. The report, which came out this week, also goes in depth into those health impacts. I reached out to her to discuss what she sees as must-watch territory for our readers on this emerging policy arena.
Our conversation was lightly edited for clarity.
What is actually being done on policy when it comes to data centers — beyond moratoria of course?
So first I’d like to just talk about the point of moratoria. It’s helpful to talk about how these policies emerge in the first place. One area where moratoria are helpful is when a data center is proposed but the county has no approach for how they’d like to potentially regulate them. That’s temporary, most of the time. It lets local governments conduct research on the various impacts and also negotiate community benefits, ones that can mitigate any potential negative impacts — like Lancaster Pennsylvania, which instituted a community benefit agreement that maximized the potential benefits of development while mitigating what large data centers can do. That agreement looked at capping municipal water use at 20,000 gallons per day and requiring 100% clean energy. It had financial penalties for non-compliance. The company also committed $20 million to their local economic development and clean energy fund. There are ways to negotiate with developers.
We also see amendments to existing zoning. Data center proposals are increasingly popping up in rural areas, many of which are unzoned, so there’s no way a county can negotiate unless there’s a moratorium in place.
Other policy solutions include different performance standards or requiring on-site renewable energy, like what Jefferson County, Missouri, looked at. Also setback requirements, mandatory noise buffers, ending by-right zoning.
Where are local governments getting ideas for regulating data centers?
A lot of the technical information comes from developers. That can in cases be seen as a biased source of information. I wouldn’t say there’s a dedicated group providing assistance to local governments when a project is proposed — which is a similar story to wind industry development, where we have only a handful of consultants who provide technical advice. It can be really helpful to get a multi-disciplinary approach to hearing information. It can be helpful to have the utility commission, public health folks, those in academia, as well as the developer.
As of right now, especially in rural areas, local governments have a hard task of balancing pushback while getting the most accurate, evidence-based, neutral information to make decisions. That balance can be contentious.
What is the federal government doing on data center policy? How is the Trump administration approaching it?
A few things there. In the early days, the drive was for AI expansion and to be competitive with foreign adversaries. Now due to the amount of public pushback in red and blue localities and a more cautious approach.
I’m not seeing a lot of actual policy movement at this time.
I know the EPA is looking at the chemicals used in cooling data centers because when that water is cycled through the system, some of it is discharged into the water system, so they’re looking at the Toxic Substances and Control Act for monitoring that.
How much of an impact does this minimal federal role have on industry behavior?
Y’know, this isn’t specific to data centers. This is true for all kinds of large-scale development: there’s a need to require some sort of federal monitoring and regulation.
That’s where I see an emerging role for public health. At the federal level, there could be policy movement towards requiring some sort of environmental monitoring at data centers to make sure they’re operating responsibility. Looking at specific water use relative to water availability and what happens when there’s a time of severe, persistent drought. With air quality too — we’ve seen areas where the grid isn’t as reliable so their diesel generators are kicking on more and affecting air quality for residents.
We’re just not seeing all of that right now. We need corporate disclosure.
What do you see as the most important public health impacts from data center development?
It varies by localities. The most discussed obviously is water usage. One thing I’d note about my conversations with folks enthusiastic around emerging tech is, there are still questions that need to be asked about the capacity of localities to support a data center. Like a small town in Kansas may only be using 40% of their water for their utility needs. If a data center came online, how much of that water goes to the data center?
One area underexplored within the public health discipline is energy poverty and energy security. The ability of a household to meet the needs of everything energy provides in our lives. It’s known we have an aging electric grid but we’re not talking enough about large-scale blackouts when the grid is not sufficient to support some of these new data centers.
Plus more of the week’s big development fights.
1. Laramie County, Wyoming — Meta is fighting the fine it received in the Cheyenne data center water pollution controversy, and the conflict between the tech giant and the city’s small board of public utilities is continuing to spill out into the public.
2. Niagara County, New York — This county just rejected a solar project’s highway work permits in a show of retaliation against the state’s Office of Renewable Energy Siting.
3. Barron County, Wisconsin — The anti-solar protest is the new campaign stop in deep red Wisconsin.
4. Chesapeake, Virginia — A large battery storage project on the Virginia coastline is on the rocks amidst rampant local opposition.
5. Lewis County, West Virginia — West Virginia is now a key battleground in the fight over transmission, as a line spanning all of West Virginia and Maryland — and cutting through Data Center Alley in Virginia — causes compounding consternation.