Sudden excitement in the forecast

Update: Tropical Depression Eleven has already been upgraded and is now Tropical Storm Joaquin.

Some weather models shifted their predictions today from what they had been just before. Now New York City, along with much of the rest of the northeast US, is in the headlights of a weather event with some potential. We are now in the forecast cone of uncertainty of a tropical cyclone: currently it’s Tropical Depression Eleven, could intensify to become Tropical Storm Joaquin. Here is the track forecast map from the National Hurricane Center:

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There is still quite a lot of uncertainty with this system, with the GFS model predicting it to be less likely than the ECMWF does that we’ll be hit by this storm. There are faint echoes of Sandy in that model disagreement – the EC predicted landfall earlier than GFS did then too. It doesn’t look like Eleven/Joaquin stands much chance of becoming an event of that magnitude, though, at least not as a wind or surge event (though never say never, or at least not yet).

There does seem to be good potential for heavy rain. Maybe very heavy, as tropical moisture funnels up from the south into a cold front that will be hanging around our region for a few days. NOAA’s precipitation forecast for the next five days puts over five inches of rain on a very large stretch of real estate from the Mid-Atlantic up to northern Maine:

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Some model runs are producing numbers as high as double that – around ten inches – for NYC. This is perhaps unlikely, but possible.

The media is starting to pick up on this. Jason Samenow of the Capital Weather Gang has a nice summary; Weather.com has picked it up; and here is a local NYC TV take on it. From a quick scan, this coverage looks reasonable. It’s giving a sense of what the more extreme outcomes could be, while clearly stating that the uncertainties are still significant. This is as it should be. This is in the “stay tuned” category.

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Urgency and Uncertainty in Rolling Stone

Eric Holthaus has a recent piece in Rolling Stone enitled “The Point of No Return: Climate Change Nightmares Are Already Here.” The subtitle is “The worst predicted impacts of climate change are starting to happen — and much faster than climate scientists expected.”

It’s a good article. But it highlights the difficulty of talking about current extreme weather events and their relation to human-induced climate change. On the one hand, the essential message of the piece is to communicate urgency on climate and need for action. This is right and appropriate. And sentence by sentence, the individual statements about specific weather and climate phenomena are accurate (at least those where I have adequate expertise to make an evaluation).

On the other hand, the piece implicitly attributes a lot of individual weather and climate events – all of those it mentions, really, which is a long list – to human induced climate change. Some of those attributions are justified, but others aren’t.

In the cases where the attribution isn’t justified, Holthaus doesn’t explicitly make it, not line-by-line in the sentences talking about those events. I couldn’t find anything outright wrong at that level. The piece was, clearly, researched and written quite carefully and with deep respect for the science. But the attribution is there implicitly, through the piece’s headline, its subtitle, and its overall framing.

I’ve added some annotations at the site Climate Feedback (my annotations and others’ on this piece are not visible yet, as far as I can tell; soon, I think), a new site designed for scientists to evaluate the science content in popular articles on climate. Two of my comments are about Holthaus’ discussion of the ongoing El Niño and positive phase of the Pacific Decadal Oscillation. These two are enough to make the point I’m interested in here.

These two climate phenomena, manifest by slow changes in the sea surface temperature in various parts of the Pacific ocean are indeed having major impacts, as described well in the article. But most climate scientists consider these phenomena to be essentially natural. We can’t be certain that the current instances of El Niño and the Pacific Decadal Oscillation aren’t in any way connected to human induced climate change, but there is no convincing evidence of such a connection, to my knowledge. Holthaus doesn’t say there is one, but to my eye it’s clearly implied. The title and subtitle, as well as the overall framing of the piece, say that it’s a list of impacts of “climate change” – which presumably most will understand to mean “human induced climate change”.

I’m being critical on this issue because it’s one I struggle with myself, and because Holthaus is a thoughtful, serious and committed writer on climate, one who actively seeks criticism from scientists (I understand that he asked Climate Feedback to evaluate his piece). And because while I read the piece as making some implied claims that are outside what science can justify, I agree completely with its bottom line, and appreciate the force with which it comes across.

Human-induced climate change is real, is a grave threat to human society, and is already having significant impacts now. Some of the events Holthaus describes almost certainly do have some imprint of human influence: heat waves and ocean acidification, for example. And natural and human influences can’t be completely untangled. While the heat, drought and wildfire in the west now are likely caused in large part by natural variations in the Pacific sea surface temperature (El Nino and Pacific Decadal Oscillation), greenhouse gas warming adds extra heat, making the impacts worse.

And regardless of the causes of individual extreme weather and climate events now, the disasters they cause still tell us something about our vulnerabilities, and that is relevant to the longer-term climate change question. The human influence will grow larger in the future, as warming proceeds. It will eventually make some kinds of extreme events significantly, detectably more frequent or more intense, even if we can’t clearly detect that influence in individual events of that type happening now. (Tropical cyclones are a good example of this.) The current events can rightly be seen as harbingers, if nothing else.

Holthaus writes quite a bit about the recent paper by James Hansen and colleagues, which warns that sea level rise may occur much sooner and more severely than most of us had thought. This paper is controversial, and not yet even through peer review. But in my view it deserves the coverage it gets, here and elsewhere – its predictions may or may not be right, but it seems pretty clear that we can’t rule them out. Contrary to denialist lines of argument, the uncertainties in climate projections should make us more worried, not less.

What if Holthaus had made a more concerted effort to avoid any implication of human influence on events to which it wasn’t justified? In a piece with the title and subtitle that this one has, the simplest way to do that would have been not to write about those events at all. That would have meant leaving out some of the most serious and visible disasters going on right now in the US, where the main readership for this piece presumably is. Alternatively, the piece could have had a different title and subtitle (my guess is that these were written by an editor rather than by Holthaus himself), one that communicated that the piece was about events of both natural and human origins. Either way, would the sense of urgency have been diluted?

Professional scientists are sometimes criticized for under-communicating the urgency and reality of climate change, especialy when we talk about current extreme events. This criticism is often fair in my view. We talk so much about the uncertainties that we leave nonscientist audiences with the feeling that we don’t know anything. We do this, I think, because we are used to talking to each other. Being clear about uncertainties is an inherent part of scientific practice. Also, our colleagues already share our knowledge and understanding of the big picture on climate change – the consensus is real – so we don’t feel a need to restate that. We fail to recognize that that underlying knowledge is not shared outside our professional circles, and that it’s often appropriate to emphasize what we do know more than what we don’t.

Journalists, on the other hand, are often criticized by scientists (and others) for overstating the connection of extreme events to climate change by glossing over uncertainties – as I have done here, in my first few paragraphs above. This is also often fair, and as with scientists, similarly traceable to the daily realities of their jobs. Journalists are under great pressure to make it current, make it exciting, keep it simple. It’s easy to see how that leads to a little exaggeration and overstatement, whether by implication or outright.

If there’s a perfect solution I don’t know it. I’m glad that writers like Holthaus (and many other good ones) are grappling with the science and doing their best to keep it accurate while still getting the essential message on climate into the popular press. I don’t love everything about this Rolling Stone piece but I think we need more like it anyway.

Full disclosure: Eric Holthaus is an alumnus of Columbia University, where I teach, though I didn’t teach him when he was here and haven’t met him in person to my knowledge. He has interviewed me a couple of times for other pieces he has written, though not for this one in Rolling Stone. He wrote a very kind review of my book when it came out last fall.

The extreme state of the Pacific climate

I have a post up at the Columbia Earth Institute State of the Planet via the Initiative for Extreme Weather and Climate, on the current El Nino event, recent Madden-Julian Oscillation, typhoons and hurricanes, and everything else going on in the tropical Pacific now, as well as its impacts on the US, and the ramifications (including some pretty speculative ones) for the global climate.

Review of Storm Surge by Brian Mapes in BAMS

In current issue of the Bulletin of the America Meteorological Society is a review of Storm Surge by Brian Mapes. It’s a beautiful, thoughtful, insightful review (I say from my totally unbiased perspective). Brian saw everything I had hoped the reader would see in the book. Now, BAMS is not the New York Times; this won’t sell thousands of books. But it means a great deal to get this kind of approval, from such a brilliant colleague, in a core publication of my own field. I didn’t write the book for other meteorologists, really, but if they didn’t like it, I’d know I had done something wrong. Thanks Brian!

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On Sandy’s return period

I’m making it a bit of a mission to recruit younger colleagues, especially postdocs and graduate students, to try writing for nonscientist audiences. In this piece, new PhD Madeleine Lopeman (Columbia Civil Engineering, just defended her thesis, advisor Prof. George Deodatis), explains how her innovative extreme value analysis of tide gauge data at the Battery yields a lower return period for Sandy than all previous ones – meaning maybe it wasn’t all that rare an event after all.

An interesting question is what relationship there is, if any, between return periods defined for different characteristics, either of the storm itself or its impacts. Tim Hall and I published a paper in 2013, for example, that estimated a 700-year return period (95% confidence interval 400-1400 years) for the track of Sandy – strictly, for a storm with at least category 1 intensity intersecting the New Jersey coast at an angle at least as steep as Sandy’s track did. Despite the different numbers, our estimate could be consistent with Madeleine’s, because the numbers describe two different things. It’s reasonable to expect the return period for the flood at the Battery to be shorter than that for the track, because one could get the same flood from tracks coming in at shallower angles if the storm had stronger winds, or made landfall closer to NYC.

A Foggy Day

(Note: I updated this post several times, after initially posting it, by accident, sooner than I had meant to.)

After a weekend that really started to feel like summer, it was cold this morning in New York City this morning, with a thick fog. Here is a photo I took from the George Washington Bridge at about 11:30 AM, looking south along the Hudson. See the boat in there?

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The weather service’s forecast discussion calls it an “advection fog”, which means it happens when warm, moist air moves over a cooler surface, and ascribes it to a “back door cold front”. The modifier “back door” refers to the fact that while most cold fronts – like most weather of any kind at our latitude – come from the west, this one came from the east. You can see it in this image, a map of the flow this morning. The arrows show the flow at 1000 hPa (near the surface), and the colors show the temperature there. You can see the cool air blowing into NYC from offshore:

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The definition of advection fog is that it forms when relatively warm, moist air moves over a cooler surface, so that it cools by contact with that surface and eventually reaches saturation. I’m not sure if that’s happening here, at least not in the short term. It looks as if the air was already cool before it blew onshore. But the key thing is that the layer of cool, moist air over the sea is very shallow and topped by a temperature inversion, so that warmer air overlies it. This means the boundary layer is very stable, and the air near the surface won’t easily mix with that above. Thus while over the ocean, the air took on more and more water vapor and couldn’t get rid of it, and eventually reached saturation. The sounding from this morning at Upton, NY in Long Island shows it very clearly:

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Look at the bottom: there is only a single white curve until somewhere above 950 hPa (see the blue numbers at left which give the pressure) This means the temperature and dew point are the same, which means the air is saturated. I.e., fog. Then the steep jump to the right means a temperature inversion; it’s a good couple of degrees C warmer at 900 hPa (roughly 1 km up) than at the surface. Now look at the wind barbs at bottom right, showing the easterly flow just right near the surface, taking that cool foggy air in from offshore, while just a little ways up we have west to northwesterlies.

To get even nerdier:

Actually, there are at least four distinct layers in this sounding. 1. The cool fog layer at the surface. 2. Above the inversion, just above 950 hPa, a layer that is close to saturated, but not quite (the two white lines are separate, but near each other, indicating temperature is just a little greater than dew point. The lapse rate is a little steeper than moist adiabatic (temperature angling to the left of the white dashed curve) which, given how close to saturation, suggests this air is almost unstable to a little elevated convection? 3. Atop that, between around 700-600 hPa, a roughly isothermal layer – very stable, close to being another inversion in that there is a slight temperature increase – in which the humidity drops steeply. 4. Above that, an atmosphere that is close to moist adiabatic in its temperature structure, but very dry.

I won’t try to do a whole analysis of this structure here, but it’s fascinating!