You’re out of free articles.
Log in
To continue reading, log in to your account.
Create a Free Account
To unlock more free articles, please create a free account.
Sign In or Create an Account.
By continuing, you agree to the Terms of Service and acknowledge our Privacy Policy
Welcome to Heatmap
Thank you for registering with Heatmap. Climate change is one of the greatest challenges of our lives, a force reshaping our economy, our politics, and our culture. We hope to be your trusted, friendly, and insightful guide to that transformation. Please enjoy your free articles. You can check your profile here .
subscribe to get Unlimited access
Offer for a Heatmap News Unlimited Access subscription; please note that your subscription will renew automatically unless you cancel prior to renewal. Cancellation takes effect at the end of your current billing period. We will let you know in advance of any price changes. Taxes may apply. Offer terms are subject to change.
Subscribe to get unlimited Access
Hey, you are out of free articles but you are only a few clicks away from full access. Subscribe below and take advantage of our introductory offer.
subscribe to get Unlimited access
Offer for a Heatmap News Unlimited Access subscription; please note that your subscription will renew automatically unless you cancel prior to renewal. Cancellation takes effect at the end of your current billing period. We will let you know in advance of any price changes. Taxes may apply. Offer terms are subject to change.
Create Your Account
Please Enter Your Password
Forgot your password?
Please enter the email address you use for your account so we can send you a link to reset your password:
One possible explanation for the extremely hot temperatures of recent years: removing the sulfur dioxide from shipping fuels.
The world has been very hot lately. Like, really hot. Much hotter than you might expect from climate change alone.
In 2023, the global average temperature was nearly 1.5 degrees Celsius, or 2.7 degrees Fahrenheit, above its pre-industrial level. It is nearly certain to exceed that milestone in 2024.
These are extreme leaps. For context, 2019 was the second-hottest year on record when it happened, and it was merely 0.95 degrees Celsius above the pre-industrial average. So Earth’s temperature has seemingly surged half a degree Celsius in five years.
These searingly hot temperatures aren’t completely outside the range climate models predict, but they are arriving sooner than most scientists thought, and climate researchers haven’t yet reached a consensus explanation for why they are happening.
This week, though, we got somewhat closer. A new study adds to a growing literature suggesting that a change to global shipping fuels has accidentally contributed to a surge in warming.
In 2020, the International Maritime Organization began enforcing rules that removed a toxic air pollutant, sulfur dioxide, from shipping fuels. Sulfur dioxide can inflame and irritate the heart and lungs, trigger asthma attacks, and can cause acid rain. But it can also reflect heat back into space, cooling the Earth.
These cooling effects of sulfur dioxide are very short-lived, and sulfur dioxide only sticks around in the atmosphere for about a week and a half. (Carbon dioxide, on the other hand, can persist in the atmosphere for a millennium.)
It now seems that all those sulfur aerosols were likely reflecting enough heat back into space to make a noticeable difference in the Earth’s temperature rise. The new study, written by the researchers Ilaria Quaglia and Daniele Visioni, finds that removing sulfur dioxide from shipping fuel likely increased the planet’s temperature by 0.08 degrees Celsius.
This change alone can’t explain the Earth’s recent surge in temperature rise. But the new rules likely made the record-breaking temperatures in 2023 roughly 12 times likelier than they would have been had the rules not changed, Visioni, an atmospheric chemistry professor at Cornell, told me.
“The likelihood of something like 2023 happening — was it made larger, was it made bigger, by this contribution? We found, yes,” he said.
The timing of the surge — and the fact that the most anomalously warm part of the planet has been the surface of the North Atlantic Ocean, a popular shipping route — also support the conclusion that the IMO rules are playing an effect.
Other factors — including natural fluctuations in Earth’s multi-year climate cycles, like El Niño — may have helped the surge along too, Visioni said. “If you take a probabilistic approach, you can say, even without the shipping rules, 2023 wouldn’t have been completely impossible,” he added. “But you cannot evaluate the truthfulness of probability from one outcome because you only have one world.” In other words, both climate change and our response to it are part of the same poorly designed experiment — and we can only run that experiment once.
Over the past 12 months, several other papers have reached a similar conclusion, although they disagree about the magnitude of the IMO’s accidental cooling effect. Quaglia and Visioni’s study finds one of the largest effects.
The literature suggests that sulfur dioxide’s effects are “in the range of three hundredths to eight hundredths of a degree Celsius, but I don’t know that we can say that we're on the high or low end of that,” Zeke Hausfather, a climate scientist who studies carbon removal technologies at the tech company Stripe, told me. Hausfather has his own estimate of how much shipping rules have affected the recent warming episode — about five hundredths of a degree Celsius — which he reached with Piers Forster, a climate physics professor at the University of Leeds.
The exact magnitude of the effect, though, might matter less than the fact that it happened at all. For Visioni, the results demonstrate that policymakers need to think more intentionally about the tradeoffs between cutting toxic air pollution emissions and losing the cooling effect those same toxic emissions produce.
Over the past few decades, humanity has gotten better at cutting toxic air pollution from power plants and industrial activities than previous climate models estimated. That means that, somewhat paradoxically, it might be more difficult to stay below the Paris Agreement’s 2 degrees C warming goal because the same levels of greenhouse gas emissions will now have a greater warming effect than they would have in 2015.
It’s time to discuss this trade-off frankly and head-on, he told me. That also means taking seriously — and beginning research — on the proposition that humanity may want to experiment with intentionally releasing some forms of aerosols to suppress the planet’s warming — something the international shipping community has historically been loath to do.
In 2013, a paper from Finnish researchers suggested that ships could retain the climate benefits of sulfur aerosol pollution — while mitigating most of their public health downsides — by burning clean fuels near the coasts, but dirtier fuel on the open ocean. Under that scenario, shipping emissions would actually have reflected even more heat than they did at the time. But the group downplayed that scenario in part because it was a potential form of geoengineering.
Is it? It’s not clear where the line of “intentionality” in geoengineering lies, Visioni said. If you stop doing something bad for the environment, but it has a warming effect on the climate, are you geoengineering? Or are you passing prudent environmental policy? The question of where geoengineering begins or ends gets harder and harder to adjudicate — especially while humanity conducts what is in essence the largest and most important geo-engineering experiment possible by burning fossil fuels and releasing billions of tons of greenhouse gas pollution into the atmosphere.
Visioni made a point to emphasize that he’s in favor of the IMO’s efforts to clean up shipping emissions. “Do we keep polluting? No. I think we should be forceful and say no,” he said.
“But on the other hand, my wish would be if we started discussions a bit more like, ‘Okay, so do we think that these [warming] thresholds are so important? And if so, are we willing to have a discussion about what we could do to prevent this warming from happening?”
Visioni’s paper is not the only new study that seeks to explain the warming blip. On Friday, a team of German researchers wrote in Science that a recent and mysterious decline in low-altitude clouds in the atmosphere has decreased the planet’s brightness. Clouds, like sulfur aerosol emissions, reflect heat back into space, and so their decline would also contribute to a warming surge.
They provide another piece of evidence that the surge in warming is caused by some fundamental change to the climate system and not by a multiu-seasonal hiccup like El Niño. “The big question that we have is: Is this a blip or not?” Hausfather said. “If we're in the world where El Nino is behaving weirdly, that’s kind of the comforting one, because it means we’ll go back to normal — normal here being a rapidly warming world. If the spike in warming over the past two years is due to natural variability, it means it will likely be shortlived.”
The more worrying possibility, he continued, is that something more fundamental has changed in the climate system. Climate scientists describe these shifts as a change in “radiative forcings,” meaning a change in the basic dynamics that force adjustments in the energy balance between the Earth, the Sun, and outer space.
“If this is a change in forcings — which clouds or aerosols would imply — then that change in forcing would likely persist. It would be a factor that continues affecting the climate in the future, rather than just a blip,” Hausfather said.
Log in
To continue reading, log in to your account.
Create a Free Account
To unlock more free articles, please create a free account.
On climate mysteries, solar revolt in Nevada, and bird breakups
Current conditions: Flood waters turned streets into rivers in Tripoli, Libya • The UK’s Met Office issued a rare “red weather warning” ahead of Storm Darragh, which could bring 90 mph winds • Americans on the West Coast are breathing a sigh of relief after a tsunami warning was cancelled following a 7.0 earthquake off the coast of Northern California.
A solar energy revolt is underway in Nevada, Jael Holzman reported in a Heatmap scoop. Rural county governments are hopping mad over the Biden administration’s crowning solar permitting achievement: the Bureau of Land Management’s Western solar plan, which would open more than 31 million acres for utility-scale solar applications. About a third of that land would be in Nevada. But the state’s rural county governments have no authority over federal lands, and most of the state’s territory overall is under control of BLM. This means their ordinances are relatively toothless, county officials say, not to mention they get less revenue from solar farms. Nevada’s Republican Governor Joe Lombardo has therefore asked BLM to cancel the plan. “Opposition from Nevada means that if there’s a way to unravel the programmatic solar plan when Donald Trump takes office in January, there’ll be a will,” Holzman wrote. Read more here.
For the last two years or so, climate scientists have been puzzled by the exceptional warmth seen across the planet, because it exceeds their models. But new research points to a possible explanation: fewer clouds. The study, published in the journal Science, found that 2023 saw “a reduced low-cloud cover in the northern mid-latitudes and tropics,” and especially over the Atlantic. Since clouds help the Earth reflect solar radiation back into space, fewer clouds means more radiation and – you guessed it – more heat. Why might the clouds be disappearing? The scientists say several factors could be at play, including the El Niño weather pattern, and a rapid decline in sulfate aerosol emissions from the shipping industry. But another explanation is that rising global temperatures are changing how clouds behave, creating an ominous feedback loop. But nobody is sure just yet, and lots of questions remain. “I consider our study just another piece of the puzzle,” said Helge Goeslling, a climate physicist at the Alfred Wegener Institute in Germany, and the study’s lead author.
A quick dispatch from Capitol Hill: Politicoreported that Tesla CEO and newly-minted co-leader of Trump’s Department of Government Efficiency Elon Musk has reiterated his call to end the $7,500 EV tax credit. “I think we should get rid of all credits,” Musk told reporters Thursday after a meeting with incoming Senate Majority Leader John Thune. In a Tesla earnings call earlier this year, Musk said such a move would “be devastating for our competitors and for Tesla slightly,” but would benefit Tesla in the long run because the company already has market dominance. As Heatmap’s Robinson Meyer explained, “repeal is part of Musk’s hypothesized plan to turn Tesla into a de facto monopoly, controlling the entire American EV industry.”
The clock ran out yesterday on Denmark’s largest ever offshore wind tender, and there were precisely zero bids. “This is a very disappointing result,” energy and climate minister Lars Aagard said. Denmark was hoping the tender would help it more than triple its offshore wind capacity by 2030. Now the search for an explanation begins. The energy agency will talk with companies about their hesitations, as many had previously expressed interest in bidding. “The circumstances for offshore wind in Europe have changed significantly in a relatively short time, including large price and interest rate increases,” Aagard said. Orsted toldReuters it held off because it wasn’t sure the rewards were worth the ongoing risks from high inflation, supply chain problems, and rising interest rates. Earlier this week Shell announced it would halt investments in new offshore wind projects.
For anyone waiting with bated breath for the Department of Energy’s report on the impacts of natural gas exports, it will apparently now be released by “mid-December.” Brad Crabtree, head of the Office of Fossil Energy and Carbon Management, told lawmakers this week that the report is “both robust and comprehensive,” and will include a 60-day comment period. The study is expected to paint a damning picture of how U.S. LNG shipments affect the climate and the economy.
A new study suggests that extreme changes in rainfall cause an uptick in “divorce” rates between bonded pairs of some monogamous bird species.
Even with Trump in the White House, we’ll still have electric vehicles.
It would be easy to feel down about the state of electric vehicles with an avowed EV foe set to reenter the White House. Yes, the election’s fallout will no doubt reshape the car market in the years to come. But in the short term, there’s good news in the form of the new slate of EVs already in the pipeline. For those looking to ditch their fossil fuel-burner for an electric model, there’s plenty to be excited about in 2025.
Having long since displaced the minivan and the sedan as America’s family car, the crossover is the most important piece of the electric car market, and the biggest seller. Next year, we’ll welcome a slew of new models.
Hyundai’s Ioniq EVs have been a hit, with the hatchback/crossover hybrid Ioniq 5 selling impressive numbers (more than 30,000 in the first three quarters of 2024) and the quirky Ioniq 6 sedan earning rave reviews. The Korean brand will be filling out more Ioniq numbers in the years to come, and 2025’s major arrival in terms of size and importance is the three-row Ioniq 9 SUV. The sharp-looking big boy joins the EV9 by Hyundai’s partner brand, Kia, in offering a more affordable EV for those who need to move six or seven people at a time.
The Hyundai Ioniq 9Hyundai
Audi was a pioneer offerer of EVs in America: The original Audi e-Tron came to the U.S. in 2019, when Tesla was just starting to sell the Model 3 and many legacy brands had yet to enter the electric market. That model’s 204-mile range looks puny and outdated by today’s standards, however. Next year, Audi is slated to roll out a much-anticipated update to the lineup with the Q6 e-tron (and its A6 e-tron sedan counterpart) delivering a respectable 350 miles of battery power.
The Audi Q6Audi
The EV startups are expanding their lineups, too. No, we won’t see the new, more affordable Rivians until at least 2026. Lucid, however, plans to inflate the successful Air sedan up to the size of a three-row SUV when it introduces the Gravity, which it claims will deliver 440 miles of range. The story is similar at Polestar, where the upcoming Polestar 3 SUV looks like an expanded version of the Polestar 2 sedan that’s been on sale for several years now.
Remember Chrysler? The erstwhile member of Detroit’s Big Three had withered to a brand that, in the U.S., sells only minivans and the obsolete 300 sedan. Stellantis (parent company of Chrysler, Ram, Jeep, and others) has pinned its hopes for an American revival on electrification, which includes an EV Chrysler crossover planned for 2025. It looks to be called the Airflow and will target the Ford Mustang Mach-E as its competitor.
The Chrysler AirflowChrysler
The same is true of another decaying American giant. Cadillac, fresh off some success with the Lyriq EV (20,000-plus sold through Q3 2024), is pushing out a slate of electric vehicles in the hopes of reminding buyers of its former glory. The smaller Optiq, three-row Vistiq, and extravagant Escalade iq are soon to join the brand’s EV lineup, the latter bringing the icon of early 2000s wealth-bragging into the electric age.
The Cadillac Escalade iqCadillac
For those who swear by the go-anywhere potential of the true 4x4, battery power is a tough sell — there aren’t too many plugs in the backcountry. Yet as EV driving ranges get longer and EVs get more capable, the icons of off-roading are coming around.
Jeep, which has introduced plug-in hybrid models of some of its best-selling SUVs, is at last taking the all-electric plunge. No, you won’t be able to buy an EV Jeep Wrangler, which is still years away. (Stellantis is being cautious with its icon.) But we are on the cusp of having the Jeep Recon, a mid-size EV 4x4, as well as an EV version of the big, luxe Wagoneer called the Jeep Wagoneer S.
The Jeep Wagoneer SJeep
Wagoneer won’t be alone in the market for expensive luxury SUV EVs. Land Rover is telling anyone who’ll listen about the torture testing it is now performing on the upcoming Range Rover EV, subjecting prototypes to the 120-degree heat of the UAE’s desert. Arriving soon alongside the electric Range Rover is the battery-powered version of Mercedes-Benz’s G-Wagen, a $170,00 status symbol.
We may be on the cusp of seeing the titans of muscle embrace electricity. At last month’s L.A. Auto Show, Dodge’s machismo-dripping presentation of the Charger Daytona EVpromised the brawny battery-powered pony car would “save our planet … from all those lame, soulless, weak-looking, self-driving sleep pods.” With silent power that more than matches its combustion days, the Charger should win converts to the church of instantaneous electric torque. Oh, and in 2025, we just might get a look at the fully electric Chevy Corvette that’s in the works.
The Dodge Charger EVDodge
For those with no interest in dropping a wheelbarrow of cash on an electric sports car, fear not: The Chevy Bolt is coming back. The plucky, affordable Bolt was the best-selling non-Tesla EV when GM suddenly gave it the axe to focus on its Ultium EV platform. Chevrolet says it’ll release the new, Ultium-based Bolt in 2025, and that this version will feature faster charging and other bells and whistles lacking in the original car.
Finally, the most fascinating offering to come next year is the 2025 Ram 1500 Ramcharger, the first time range-extender EV technology comes to one of America’s best-selling vehicles. Like a normal EV, the Ramcharger has electric motors to propel it, a battery to store electricity, and can be plugged in to charge the battery, however, it also carries a gasoline engine that can turn on to recharge the battery when necessary. If this hopefully seamless version of a hybrid convinces America’s legion of truck buyers, it’ll go a long way toward advancing the pace of EV adoption.
He promised to protect almost a third of the U.S. So far he’s nowhere close.
Over the course of a presidential term, a mature ironwood tree will add only about four inches to its height. Unless you happen to see one during the 10 or 12 days in May that pale pink flowers cover its branches, it’s not a shrub you’re likely to call one of the Sonoran Desert’s most attractive flora — gnarled and hunched, the ironwood lacks both the alien charm of the Joshua tree and the iconic flamboyance of the Saguaro cactus. It makes up for this with its longevity: Some ironwoods growing in the hills east of the Coachella Valley have clung there 400 years longer than California has been a state. Adequately protected, those very same trees could plausibly still be standing for our successors to marvel at in the year 2724 — 175 presidential terms from now.
Who knows if they’ll still talk about President Joe Biden then — in 700 years, he’ll be as deep in the past as Edward II of England is now. But if those ironwood trees are still standing, it could be because of him. Biden has called the fight against climate change the defining cause of his presidency, and he views conservation and the preservation of biodiversity as part and parcel of that legacy. His 30x30 executive order — which aims to set aside 30% of America’s lands and waters for conservation by 2030 — was a week-one priority once he took office.
Among his best remaining opportunities to add to his tally would be the designation of Chuckwalla National Monument, a 660,000-acre stretch of desert south of Joshua Tree National Park that is home to one-fifth of the ironwood trees left in the world. The same goes for a sacred and culturally significant region in the southwest corner of California called Kw’tsán; about Sáttítla, a vulnerable volcanic landscape near Mt. Shasta; about the Owyhee, a million-acre Oregon watershed that sits in the crosshairs of mining and energy development; and about the homestead in Maine that belonged to Frances Perkins, the first woman to serve in the U.S. cabinet. The list goes on.
But with less than two months until Biden’s move-out day, environmental advocates are starting to wonder whether he’ll ever get around to fulfilling his promise.
“There are still several national monument campaigns that are ready to go and awaiting the president’s signature, and those are the sorts of things that could cement President Biden’s legacy as one of the great conservation presidents of all time — if he takes those steps here in the last few weeks,” Aaron Weiss, the deputy director of the Center for Western Priorities, a nonpartisan conservation advocacy group, told me.
When Biden took office in 2021, roughly 293 million acres of the United States fell under the protection of various federal laws, about 12% of his 30% goal. Since then, Biden has set aside another 1%, or 37 million acres, for protection, including about 1.6 million acres of new monuments under the Antiquities Act. So far, Biden has protected slightly less land than President Bill Clinton did in his first term, per the Center for Western Priorities’ accounting. And every day that passes matters; the Center for American Progress has found that the U.S. loses a football field’s worth of natural area every 30 seconds.
Still, conservationists have celebrated Biden’s moves to set aside the National Petroleum Reserve and the Tongass National Forest in Alaska, and to expand Berryessa Snow Mountain National Monument and San Gabriel Mountains National Monument in California. “When you look at it from a traditional land protection perspective, I think [the Biden administration has] a strong record,” Chris Wood, the president and chief executive officer of the conservation group Trout Unlimited, told me.
And Mustafa Santiago Ali, the executive vice president of the National Wildlife Federation, also told me not to discount Biden’s designation of the Springfield 1908 Race Riot National Monument in Illinois, the Emmett Till and Mamie Till-Mobley National Monument in Illinois and Mississippi, and Baaj Nwaavjo I’tah Kukveni — Ancestral Footprints of the Grand Canyon National Monument in Arizona, even though they don’t add substantial acreage to his totals. “Folks may not pay attention to how important those monuments are — honoring folks who have sacrificed in the past,” Ali said. Weiss, likewise, commended Biden and Secretary of the Interior Deb Haaland for “acknowledging that you need Indigenous stewardship to lead and be central to all public land management decisions.”
As the remaining weeks of Biden’s tenure quietly tick by, there is increasing anxiety about whether and when the president will reach for the Antiquities Act again. Kristen Brengel, the senior vice president of government affairs at the National Parks Conservation Association, told me she hopes Biden will announce at least two more national monuments between now and January 20.
Ultimately, though, when it comes to the question of how much land Biden will choose to set aside in the waning days of his administration, “the limiting factor is time,” Ryan Houston, the executive director of the Oregon Natural Desert Association, which has campaigned extensively for the designation of an Owyhee National Monument, told me. “If we don't take action before Inauguration Day in January, then we’re entering at least a two-, four-, or six-year period where there won’t be opportunities to follow through and protect the Owyhee,” Houston went on. “And that sets us back a long way.”
Organizers don’t get a tip-off ahead of time about where or what the Biden administration is considering. Chuckwalla, with its ironwood trees, rare reptiles, cultural sites, and Joshua Tree-adjacent wildlife corridors, seems likely — Haaland visited it this spring, a portentous sign according to advocates. Other would-be monuments like the Owyhee in Oregon are less certain and may attract executive attention only if Congress fails to roll it into a public lands omnibus bill expected by the end of the year.
The clock has already run out for other key components of Biden’s conservation legacy. “In the first month of his presidency, it seemed like it would be great,” Brendan Cummings, the conservation director of the Center for Biological Diversity, a nonprofit focused on endangered species protections, told me. With the president’s 30x30 executive order and his pause on federal fossil fuel leasing, it’d “seemed like he was going to live up to his promises.”
Then came the Willow Project approval, new LNG export terminal sign-offs, and so many new oil and gas permits that Biden surpassed even Trump. “One of the few areas where Biden has actually been excellent is national monuments,” Cummings conceded. “But everything else is sort of this mix of muddled middle or profoundly disappointing.” He added, “Trump took us two steps back, and Biden took us one step forward — so we’re still behind at the end of the day.”
Though the other advocates I spoke with for this story weren’t as sour on Biden’s record as Cummings, many had a wishlist of items they’d hoped Biden would address. Brengel of the NPCA had hoped there’d be more climate resiliency funding for the National Parks, which have “been on the frontlines of dealing with some of the most dramatic effects of climate change.” Wood, at Trout Unlimited, was holding out for the creation of a federal fund to deal with the legacy of abandoned mines via a royalty on hard rock metals, the only commodity produced from public lands that doesn’t have a surcharge or tax. Weiss of Western Priorities wanted to see action on livestock grazing reforms.
It’s hard to feel too frustrated with the Biden administration, though. Much of 2021 and 2022 were spent addressing Trump administration policies and roll-backs, including restoring protections for Bears Ears and Grand Staircase-Escalante National Monuments. Biden’s executive powers had their limits, too. While one of his administration’s conservation wins had been blocking the culturally significant lands around New Mexico’s Chaco Canyon from new oil and gas leasing, Trump will have a relatively straightforward path to reopening it to drilling if he so chooses. “I think with the cards that we had in our hands, Deb Haaland and Biden have done everything they could do to protect this area,” Paul F. Reed, a preservation archaeologist with Archaeology Southwest, which campaigned to protect Chaco Canyon, told me. But “short of congressional action, this area will continue to be a political football.” The same may again be true for Bears Ears and Grand Staircase-Escalante.
There is better Trump-proofing elsewhere. Jenny Rowland-Shea, the director of public lands at the left-leaning advocacy group the Center for American Progress, told me that for Trump to unwind Biden’s protections in the Arctic, which were established via a lengthier rule-making process, the incoming president would have to prove that the science behind the ecology subsistence isn’t valid — a bigger lift. It’s part of why she feels comfortable calling Biden’s actions in the Arctic one of the more significant pieces of his conservation legacy.
Others pointed to the Bureau of Land Management’s Public Lands Rule, which put conservation on equal footing with other land uses like drilling this past spring, as the real gift that Biden leaves behind. Wood, of Trout Unlimited, told me that what he hopes will outlast the 46th president is Biden’s approach to looking at conservation as a part of natural resiliency, the effort to “make our lands more resistant to floods, fires, and drought.” Meanwhile, Ali of NWF told me his wish is that future presidents will use Biden’s accomplishments as a “north star” to measure themselves against and surpass.
But Cummings of the Center for Biological Diversity believes there is only one way for Biden to cement his legacy in the remaining weeks he has in office. “Almost everything the president does gets forgotten,” he said. “But the land that a president protects is forever.”