Monthly Archive: November 2011

The climate communication conundrum

If you watch TV, read the newspaper, or listen to the radio, you know that climate science has become a uniquely controversial and polarizing topic. The interesting thing is that the scientists who conduct climate research think that there is no controversy. In their view, it’s crystal clear: the Earth’s climate is changing, this change is caused by anthropogenic activity, and humanity must make modifications if it is to prevent these changes. End of story. As a climate scientist, I completely agree that there SHOULD be no controversy … but there is.

Unscientific America book coverMerchans of Doubt book cover

Some popular books with different perspectives on climate communication.

There are various contentious explanations for the existence of climate change denial. Some authors, like Chris Mooney, believe that this is because it is a highly complex subject that requires too much background knowledge. Others, like Naomi Oreskes, believe it is because there are too many businesses and political lobbying groups involved. Still others believe that scientists can’t be trusted and there is some hidden personal benefit derived from climate change mitigation. Regardless of the reason, all of these issues can be addressed if scientists can become more aware of their audience and their use of language and ultimately learn to communicate more effectively. Chris Mooney, Naomi Oreskes and others are slated to present their perspectives and ideas for solutions for more effective climate communication in my upcoming session at the AGU Fall Meeting, Scientist Participation in Science Communication.

A little bit of background: in late 2009, you may recall that 160 MB of confidential files from the University of East Anglia’s Climate Research Unit suddenly appeared on the Internet. This consisted of over 1,000 emails and 3,000 documents that included everything from journal manuscripts, to computer source code, to casual conversations between friends and colleagues. As can be expected when most of us write emails to friends, we don’t think too much about our vocabulary and the phrases that we use could easily be taken out of context and misconstrued to mean something else. This is exactly what happened to the scientists at CRU – the “trick” they used to calculate a result was suddenly being spun as “magical illusions used to confuse the public about climate change.” Of course, these scientists have all been cleared of any wrongdoing by an independent Science Assessment Panel, but not before gaining the attention of media outlets and politicians the world over. The real question is: why should it matter?

Twenty years earlier, in 1989, the Montréal Protocol on Substances that Deplete the Ozone Layer came into effect. This was the result of scientists discovering that a large hole in the ozone layer appeared every spring over the Antarctic. Scientists were able to explain the theory behind its existence and make observations confirming that it was recurring every year. After lobbying policy makers, the Montréal Protocol was drawn up to limit the production of ozone depleting substances and, since then, 196 countries from around the world have ratified this treaty. Although regulating ozone depleting substances is a very different challenge from regulating greenhouse gases and the political climate was very different 20 years ago, this is still a great example of how science can inform policy and ultimately makes the world a better place.

The Montreal Protocol

So why can’t a similar approach be taken to mitigate climate change? Why hasn’t the Kyoto Protocol for the Stabilization of Greenhouse Gas Concentrations in the Atmosphere been anywhere near as successful? A big part of the answer is one that all scientists hate to admit – we are poor communicators.

Scientists were effective at communicating the cause, impacts, and potential threats of depleting the ozone layer. For one reason or another, we have not been effective at communicating the cause, impacts, and potential threats of climate change. The irony of the whole situation is that scientists spend a lot of time communicating. We publish articles in scholarly journals, we write technical reports, we produce protocol documents, and we even teach science classes to hundreds of students. Here’s the catch: we never stop for an instant to consider our audience. Everything that we write, say, or do is almost exclusively directed to other scientists. We are stuck in a world where “positive feedback” and “anomalies” are not considered jargon but are common, everyday phrases with a distinct scientific meaning (an entertaining discussion of how these phrases are perceived by the public can be found here). It is for this reason that, when we do go out on a limb and try to communicate with a non-science audience, we are not only confused by their lack of understanding, we are frustrated that our message hasn’t gone anywhere. If that message is suddenly mixed in with thousands of other conflicting statements in every available medium, there is no chance for effective communication.

Thankfully, at NEON, we are more than aware of this problem and are already developing plans to address it. When NEON was in the initial planning stages, education and outreach were identified as absolutely essential for the success of the project. It is for this reason that there is a Chief of Education and Outreach in NEON’s executive management – something that is, unfortunately, not very common at large research institutes. Great care has also been made to ensure that we are as transparent as possible to the scientific community – if our emails ever get hacked, we shouldn’t have anything to worry about. NEON is also unusual in that our team of scientists covers a very broad range of subject areas, so we are already forced to regularly communicate with a diverse audience. Furthermore, the very fact that NEON’s communications plans are still in the development phase provides an unprecedented opportunity to create modern, scientific communications strategies. I encourage everyone, members of the scientific community and the public at large, to write to us with your suggested contributions – understanding our audience is key here and you, the reader, are part of that very audience. By becoming more effective communicators, we can minimize some of the debate present in the media and, ultimately, help solidify our scientific messages.

The bottom line is that we still have a lot to learn when it comes to communicating science … but we’re getting there. In my next post, I’ll endeavour to strike a more positive tone by focusing on some of the communication efforts that are currently underway by some scientists (such as Gavin Schmidt’s Real Climate Blog) and institutes (such as the American Geophysical Union’s Climate Science Q&A Service). In addition, I’ll provide some of the highlights from my upcoming session at the AGU Fall Meeting: Scientist Participation in Science Communication (program below). If you’re going to be in San Francisco on December 7th, you won’t want to miss it!

Permanent link to this article: http://www.neonnotes.org/2011/11/the-climate-communication-conundrum/

When ecosystem engineers throw a wrench in your gears

Imagine the scene: a sunny spring day on the plains of eastern Colorado, grasses gently swaying in the breeze, and a clear, gurgling stream winding its way across the landscape. Standing on the stream bank, suddenly there’s a loud splash, and you see a huge, dark shape gracefully plunge into the stream in front of you. Your mind irrationally flips through a list of mental images (you were, after all, watching River Monsters on the Discovery Channel the night before). And then you come to your senses, it’s just a beaver. Wait a minute, a beaver? In a tiny stream on the plains of eastern Colorado?

Sure, beavers can succeed just about anywhere by altering their environment. This has earned them the nickname “ecosystem engineers.” Beavers are known to significantly alter aquatic habitats by damming streams and rivers, turning them into ponds and wetland habitats. This changes the habitat dramatically, and is a factor that NEON Aquatic scientists must consider.

The Aquatic (AQU) program at NEON will collect data on ecological responses to physical and chemical drivers in freshwater systems, and much of that data can be collected only in the presence of flowing water. NEON Aquatic scientists are choosing stream sites across the country that are shallow enough to wade across, yet have flowing water throughout the growing season. Beavers, however, can transform our small study streams into a series of small ponds.

A lovely, flowing stream.  Contractors measure stream discharge at the Arikaree study site in the springtime, during high flows. Photo by Keli Goodman

A lovely, flowing stream. Contractors measure stream discharge at the Arikaree study site in the springtime, during high flows. Photo by Keli Goodman

Beaver dams are just some of the many challenges we’ve faced since we began work on characterizing a small stream in the central plains of Colorado last spring. The first major challenge was to find such a stream with continuously running water, as most streams dry during the hot, dry summer months. While the Arikaree River is known to go dry in this area, it maintains water for the majority of the year, so it’s a better choice than some of the more ephemeral streams in the area.

The site that was chosen is approximately 50 miles north of Burlington, Colorado and is located on Nature Conservancy land that is managed as a working cattle ranch. The Arikaree River continues to flow northwest into the Republican River in Nebraska. At the site, the stream is small and shallow with a sandy bottom that can easily be waded. The stream is home to frogs, fish, insects, plants, algae, and a few larger mammals too…

The cattle are always very interested in the scientists.  That is, until they realize that we are only scientists, and not there to bring them food.  Photo by Stephanie Parker

The cattle are always very interested in the scientists. That is, until they realize that we are only scientists, and not there to bring them food. Photo by Stephanie Parker

Now on to challenge number two: the cattle. The stream flows across a working cattle ranch, where there are plenty of cows who love to rub their backs on trees and on site markers that we placed near the stream. They also like to walk across the stream, make their own paths (sometimes across the stream), leave manure in and near the site, and follow us around because they think that we are bringing them food. Luckily for us, once the cattle realize we have no food for them, they decide we are really boring and leave us alone. Currently, we do not leave equipment or instruments at the stream site between visits; however, soon enough we will install sensors and other equipment that stay in the stream. The NEON Aquatics team and engineers are currently devising solutions to keep the equipment safe from curious cattle.

Where did the stream go?  The Arikaree study site in mid-summer.  Photo by Bill Schenderlein

Where did the stream go? The Arikaree study site in mid-summer. Photo by Bill Schenderlein

Challenge number three: summertime in the central plains. If you have ever been to eastern Colorado in the summer, you know that it is mostly dry and hot, with the occasional thunderstorm. Our contractors visited the site approximately every 2 weeks throughout the summer, and found that in addition to sampling stream water and aquatic plants, they routinely brought home ticks. Lots and lots of ticks. Why so many ticks? Because the vegetation surrounding the stream was growing so tall and thick that they had to wade through deep grasses to get to the stream. In addition, the grasses were growing over the top of the stream channel, making the water difficult to find in some places. Luckily the contractors had thought ahead and marked the channel with long pieces of rebar.

And finally, the challenge you’ve all been waiting for, challenge number 4: beavers. Just when we thought we had made it through the trials of our first summer of NEON aquatic site characterization, an early summer drought reduced the stream flow to a trickle. The water that remained was no longer clean and clear. It had become muddy and stagnant, restricted to a few pools along the reach, with little flowing water between them. Soon thereafter, the field contractors informed us that construction had begun on the Arikaree River. Hooray, we’ve been waiting for construction to start! But, this wasn’t NEON-sanctioned construction. The local beaver family, including the very same beaver that had hopped innocently into the stream in front of me back on that spring day, had begin to build a series of dams along the entire study reach. And so the old saying “busy as a beaver” rang true: the beavers built so many dams that what remaining flow there was in the channel completely stopped, rendering the Arikaree River a series of small pools. The beavers have ingeniously made a series of step pools to ensure constant water in the stream section connecting several larger beaver ponds along the Arikaree River. Good for the beavers, bad for NEON Aquatics. With no flowing water, we are not able to sample aquatic chemistry and streamflow as planned.

Photo by Steve

Photo by Steve

And so, we find ourselves in the midst of a competition for one of the few stretches of running water left in eastern Colorado. We found a nice stream, survived the curious cattle, made it through tick season, and now are faced with a large rodent whose ability to engineer a landscape to its benefit is second only to humans. Because the beavers are a natural part of the aquatic ecosystem, NEON will not remove them from the stream. Instead, we will continue to do what work we can in the study reach, and wait for high spring flows, fed by snowmelt, to return consistently flowing water to the stream. We hypothesize that spring flooding may naturally clear the smaller beaver dams along the study reach, returning the stream to the flowing, gurgling stream that we first visited back in the spring.

We anticipate that the beaver will inhabit our study reach annually as the channel begins to dry, usually early fall. Thus, we are planning to structure our sampling seasonally: the flowing water part of the year from spring to late summer, and no-flowing water part of the year (we are calling this the “beaver season”), from early fall through winter. As the NEON Aquatics team moves on to construct new sites across the country, who knows what other challenges we may face. What’s next, alligators?

Permanent link to this article: http://www.neonnotes.org/2011/11/when-ecosystem-engineers-throw-a-wrench-in-your-gears/

Looking to climate science for ways to deal with data overload

Large science conferences are usually a science smorgasbord for a knowledge junkie like myself. But I showed up at the World Climate Research Program Open Science Meeting in Denver with a time limit and tunnel vision. I focused on how scientists, policymakers and educators might make more and better use of large data sets – and even participate in generating them. You see, I and my colleagues in the education/outreach and cyberinfrastructure departments at NEON are fixing to develop a web portal for NEON data that makes the data accessible in more than one sense of the word. We are trying to design tools that make it relatively easy for you to find both the data you want and/or the meaning in the data (if there is any). To my surprise and delight, I found at WCRP that related efforts are taking place at institutions right in Boulder. I dove into a broad, deep pool of international climate science and cultural diversity at WCRP and ended up talking almost entirely with people who work more or less down the street from me.

Data rods, a project by the NSIDC, organizes remote sensing data into spatially gridded time series in a pure-object database, facilitating faster data analysis and query across space and time.

Data rods, a project at the National Snow and Ice Data Center, organizes remote sensing data into spatially gridded time series in a pure-object database, facilitating faster data analysis and query across space and time.

For example, the first poster in the Tuesday morning session that caught my eye was about the Data Rods project from the National Snow and Ice Data Center at the University of Colorado Boulder. A huge quantity of remote sensing data exists that was collected by different instruments in different formats at different spatial scales over several decades. Some satellite data exists only as image files. It’s incredibly time-consuming to search and analyze those files across both space and time using relational databases.

Converting spatially referenced data into data rods, as David Gallaher explained to me, make it many times faster to assess changes in a specific location over time. NEON will be monitoring the same locations over 30 years with georeferenced sampling and remote sensing, and much of NEON’s data could be converted into data rods for simultaneous analysis across both space and time. For example, with satellite images, the data rod system takes whatever spatial reference information is available about each image and lines up the image pixels inside a spatial grid, where each grid cell corresponds to a specific location on Earth. Each gridded pixel is like a page in a flipbook: as you add pages from other images taken at different times, you end up with a story about how that location changed over time – a data rod.

Hard to tell the difference between ice and clouds in this image. They're both white blobs. That is, until you use a time series of images like these to calculate how fast each white blob is moving.

Hard to tell the difference between ice and clouds in this image. They’re both white blobs. That is, until you use a time series of images like these to calculate how fast each white blob is moving.

Convert old satellite images of the Arctic into data rods, and it’s a relatively quick computational task to sort out clouds from ice sheets, Gallaher told me. Clouds and ice are both white, but clouds move faster, and data rods will conveniently animate those different rates of movement in a way that’s easy to detect with a computer algorithm. Differentiating between the ice and clouds is key to estimating historical ice cover and describing the impacts of climate change. Scientists, what could you do faster and more efficiently with old or modern environmental data stored this way?

A replica of the HMS Plover thermometer shelter, built to historic specs.
Very old instructions.

(top) A replica of the HMS Plover thermometer shelter, built to historic specs (bottom).

Speaking of teaching old data new tricks, I’m a big fan for the Old Weather project, a cleverly designed citizen science effort to transcribe a trove of historical weather and ice information embedded in old weather logs. A core problem with this data is that it was not all collected in the same way, and can’t be compared directly with modern data without correcting for the biases introduced by collection methods. Because these data were collected so long ago, scientists don’t know exactly how they’re biased are.

But some researchers and high school students in New York and Alaska have followed some very old directions to re-create the thermometer shelter used by the HMS Plover to take hourly air temperature measurements in Point Barrow, Alaska back in the mid-19th century. The replica thermometer shelter is now at the NOAA Barrow Observatory, where it will collect a year’s worth of data that the students will use to estimate the temperature biases introduced by the shelter into the temperature record. I’m looking forward to seeing these students present their results at a future conference, and I’m filing away this project in my brain for retrieval when NEON is ready to develop new programs in its citizen science arm.

Dr. Cunningham and his poster.

Dr. Cunningham and his poster.

Finally, the exception to my tour of local science was a poster by a fellow named Keith Cunningham, who hails from the University of Alaska Fairbanks. His poster was about the use of remote sensing data to audit carbon markets. For example, the United Nations Reducing Emissions from Deforestation and forest Degradation program has set up a carbon market in developing countries by assigning value to the carbon stored in forests and giving the countries financial incentives to manage forests and development in ways that don’t release huge amounts of carbon into the atmosphere and contribute to global warming. UN-REDD is having countries measure their own carbon storage. But Cunningham argues that as in other markets, a third party auditor needs to step in to help keep countries accountable for the carbon they are or aren’t storing. That’s where remote sensing science comes in.

NEON will collect much of the kind of biomass data that could be used to audit carbon markets. None of that data will be in areas where a carbon market currently applies, but some of the knowledge and methodology NEON generates about collecting and analyzing biomass data at different spatial scales may end up influencing carbon accounting sooner or later. In the thick of getting the observatory up and running, it’s easy to forget that NEON data products and tools could affect decisions in the policy and regulation world that will affect the lives and livelihoods of millions or even billions of people, decades into the future.

Permanent link to this article: http://www.neonnotes.org/2011/11/looking-to-climate-science-for-ways-to-deal-with-data-overload/