October 6, 2006

Books and mass extinctions

Am in receipt of a few new books, some of which came in to work as review copies and some ordered by mine own hand and credit card. Notable in the latter category is Michael Bérubé’s Rhetorical Occasions. I cracked it last night before retiring, started reading his treatment of the Sokal Hoax, and look forward to more. I have the germ of an idea for an animated Saturday morning cartoon based on the work. I’m thinking Anime. I’ll get on that after finishing my current project, which is of course the libretto for the light opera version of this book:

image

Hat tip to PSOTD on that one. I have in mind a sorta hybrid Verdi-slash-HipHop kinda thing, which style I am calling “Mean Joe Green” for now.

My friend Richard Heinberg has been busy: his new book The Oil Depletion Protocol (co-written with Colin Campbell) came into my office last week, and I knocked it back in a day’s commute. One of Richard’s earlier books The Party’s Over: Oil, War and the Fate of Industrial Societies, which I excerpted in Earth Island Journal a few years back, is perhaps the most justifiably pessimistic things I have ever read. In that book, Heinberg neatly dissected each of the common scenaria by which people say we will avoid massive Peak Oil shocks — hydrogen, biofuels, fuel cells, denial, etc. — and showed that none of them is sufficient to replace fossil fuels without severe social impact. Famine is an example of a severe social impact. The Oil Depletion Protocol is more optimistic: Heinberg and Campbell allege that if 1) oil production peaks twenty years from now or later, which is faintly possible and 2) we all get on the task of winding down our energy use by some not-insignificant percentage per year in a globally organized fashion, we might escape the worst of the dislocations.

You people outside the United States will just have to tell us how that “acting responsibly” thing goes.

Two gigantic coffee-table tomes have hit the desk at work in the last week. One of them brought back some serious pleasant memories. Back in the days before I knew of Carl’s work, I would likely have told you that Robert Bateman was my favorite painter of natural subjects. About twenty years ago the Smithsonian held an exhibit of his work, and I spent more than a few days studying each painting with odd and poignant longings in my heart when I should have been working. His style is an odd mix of photorealistic and Japanese-inspired simplicity: each subject, elk or heron or bobcat or fencepost lichen, is rendered in wonderful detail. The context in which the subject resides is rendered almost as exactly, but much of the detail is seamlessly omitted. It is a painterly equivalent of depth of field:

robert bateman bobcat

...but the slight lack of detail in the surroundings is far more subtle than blurring.

That twenty-years-gone frisson came back as I paged through the weighty The Art of Robert Bateman. I’ve set it aside for now: I want to give it the full, undistracted attention it deserves. Maybe I’ll wait until I reallly should be working, and then spend several days looking through it.

Also unread and anticipated and gigantic: George Wuerthner’s The Wildfire Reader: A Century of Failed Forest Policy. I’ve been following Wuerthner’s work for almost as long as Bateman’s: he is among the best Western landscape photographers, up there with Jack Dykinga and Anne Rohrer, though Wuerthner’s work is more frankly journalistic. He has donated his photos to a number of environmental organizations and publications, and I’ve been among those who share in his generosity. Wuerthner is also a fine writer, with about three dozen books to his credit. In compiling The Wildfire Reader Wuerthner had an explicit aim: “to promote the restoration of fire to the landscape and to encourage its natural behavior so it can resume its role as a major ecological process.”

But that goes onto the pile too, until I finish Douglas Erwin’s Extinction: How Life on Earth Nearly Ended 250 Million Years Ago. Aside from being a sucker for both paleontological subjects and evolving scientific controversies, this book about events that took place 248 million years ago showed up at my door at exactly the right time: I’d just finished reading a short article on the subject in Scientific American, written by Peter D. Ward.

The end-Permian extinction (as it is properly called, because there were other mass extinctions that took place during the Permian) nearly wiped out life on Earth. Between 90 and 95 percent of marine species went extinct at the time, with about 70 percent of terrestrial species dying out as well. The event ended some evolutionary lines that had previously dominated the planet: trilobites, pelycosaurs like the sailback dimetrodon, the dinocephalian therapsids. (For a modern-day equivalent to the extinction of that last taxon, imagine all mammals dying out.) Some paleontologists, California’s Luann Becker among them, have proposed that a “bolide impact” — a big meteor or comet or asteroid hitting the planet — was responsible for the end-Permian extinction, and a few years back the mainstream press responded to a Becker press release by declaring that the cause of the event had been established. But rumors of the cause of death have been exaggerated. Peter Ward has studied the end-Permian for most of his adult life, and has consistently argued that the data support entirely earth-bound, ecological explanations for the extinction.  For a time he speculated that sudden exposure of anoxic ocean sediments — the oceans receded, and the muck came out from under — depleted the oxygen in the atmosphere, and only those organisms that could tolerate suffocatingly low O2 levels survived. (The ancestors of today’s supremely respiratorily efficient birds, for instance.)

But Ward’s SciAm article advances an idea even more chilling than worldwide smothering. He’s updated his thinking based on new data, much of it coming from the study of “biomarkers” — trace organic substances in fossil strata left by organisms that do not themselves usually fossilize. One such biomarker is cell membrane lipids, which vary in chemical constitution from species to species. It is thus relatively straightforward to assign cell membrane lipids from, say, end-Permian strata to a particular kind of organism. And in fact, study of biomarkers in end-Permian, early Triassic ocean sediment rocks indicate that the oceans experienced a huge spike in the population of certain kinds of bacteria, huge population spikes of which are inconsistent with a comfortable planet for us oxygen-breathing types. Here’s the bullet-point version of the hypothesis, excerpted from a sidebar accompanying Ward’s article:

  • Trouble begins with widespread volcanic activity that releases enormous amounts of carbon dioxide and methane.
  • The gases cause rapid global warming. A warmer ocean absorbs less oxygen from the atmosphere.
  • Low oxygen (anoxia) destabilizes the chemocline, where oxygenated water meets water permeated with hydrogen sulfide (H2S) generated by bottom-dwelling anaerobic bacteria.
  • As H2S concentrations build and oxygen falls, the chemocline rises abruptly to the ocean surface.
  • Green and purple photosynthesizing sulfur bacteria, which consume H2S and normally live at chemocline depth, now inhabit the H2S-rich surface waters while ocean-breathing life suffocates.
  • H2S also diffuses into the air, killing animals and plants on land and rising to the troposphere to attack the planet’s ozone layer.
  • Without the ozone shield, the sun’s ultraviolet radiation kills remaining life.

Whee!

No one knows what the atmospheric CO2 and methane levels were in the end-Permian. We do have figures for other mass extinctions in which climate is thought to have played a role, such as the end-Paleocene and end-Triassic. During both of those extinctions, atmospheric CO2 levels were somewhere around 1,000 parts per million. The good news: this is three times the atmospheric CO2 we currently enjoy. The bad news: most climatologists predict we’ll get to those levels somewhere around 2100 if we follow Bush administration climate policy. And that’s not even taking into account things such as outgassing of the insane amounts of carbon now locked up in polar soils, which catastrophic event is almost likely inevitable. In fact, it’s happening now, or starting to at least, as the reports coming across my desk from Siberia indicate. Or the bright boys at ExxonMobil tapping into unstable methane hydrates reserves beneath the ocean floor, as is currently planned, and dislodging a couple billion tons of methane into the atmosphere — a possibility discussed soberly in the engineering documents.

So I’m reading that Erwin book first. And then I’ll need to look at the pretty paintings.

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(For a modern-day equivalent to the extinction of that last taxon, imagine all mammals dying out.)

Or just keep the reading the post, and the imagining part becomes much less imaginary.  The offshore drilling sources notwithstanding, the melting of permafrost is releasing considerable quantities of methane at this moment.  Isn’t it lovely? 

Now, where are those pretty pictures i set aside to look at today?? No, not the ones of the nuclear bombs (though the vids are kinda cool); oh yeah those over there by environmental landscape photographer Robert Glenn Ketchum.

=v= Heinberg’s earlier book provided a lot of hard facts (and I do mean hard) that are cited by those concerned about Peak Oil. Unfortunately, much of the mainstream press has simplemindedly portrayed these concerns as dismissable wacky end-of-worldism. Even worse has been the reaction of many so-called activists,whose reactions fall largely into two categories:

· Inaction, because it’s hopeless.

·Looking forward to petrocollapse, since that’ll mean fewer SUVs (and no fuel for Fleet Week).

I hope the new book serves as a corrective to this.

In my view of the future, we all drive Teslas.

Everything I’m about to say is meant in a completely madcap, zanily humorous way, and I don’t mean a word of it:

I’ve been saying for years that I couldn’t imagine anything to replace oil. We use it because it’s a lot cheaper, in a lot of ways, than anything else. I see it as something like the steroid of modern civilization. We got this big, in population, at least, thanks to petroleum. Take it away, even gradually, and I’ll bet there’s not enough resources to keep more than a quarter of us alive.

At the newspaper where I work, I see articles about twice a year about some enterprising optimist who converts his car to burn waste donut-frying oil, or something similar. Biodiesel and gasohol always come into the story, with the constant subtext of “We’re saved! Tra-la, Tra-la, we’re saved! Nothing has to change, technology is coming to our rescue yet again!â€?

When you peel apart any human-related environmental problem, at base it’s not an environmental problem, it’s one or both of a couple of human problems.

The Too Many People Problem: Conceptually divide the human population by ten and there’s enough petroleum to last hundreds of years. Leave it at 6 billion, and maybe we’re screwed in five. 

The Not Enough Brains Problem: Humans generally are probably less than half as bright as they need to be to survive as a species, and to keep from wrecking the earth. But put people under intense pressure and they become LESS intelligent. More fearful, more desperate, more dangerous ... and LESS thoughtful and rational.

As to that second factor, I kinda think the very existence of George W. Bush, Moron President, (and the growing religious-fundamentalist movement in the U.S. and elsewhere) is a symptom of an already-intense situation.

As to the first, as we get deeper into the pit, I can picture the insane godders in our midst blocking any action to limit human breeding, and even working to eliminate the ones we already have (as they already do).

I’m an optimist myself most of the time, but there are moments when I think relaxed optimism is probably the exactly wrong tool to handle what’s happening on Planet Earth right now. There’s a much longer rant here, which I’ll leave out, but ... I can imagine billions of people dying. Within our lifetimes.

:coolsmile:  Have a nice day. :ahhh:

SOOOO.......Chris, Hank, what are your PERSONAL plans? Concerning all this? It is very hard to read this stuff here, and not immediately begin planning to sell everything I own and buy a subsistance farm in, I don’t know, British Columbia?

If conservative models put the beginning of the shit hitting the fan times at say 2050, that means that I have about 7 years, realistically. I have Dogs to take care of, Dammit !!

So seriously, what do you guys plan to do? Just wait and see what happens, because who knows what will happen? Or do you have a five year plan or something?

But Dr. Who comes and rescues us, right?

No, wait, what I mean to say is, Where are those damn Daleks?  “Must Exterminate!  Must Exterminate!”

I shuttle between those two extremes.

SOOOO.......Chris, Hank, what are your PERSONAL plans?

One must cultivate his own garden. Or her own.

Well, speaking for myself, Kathy, I happen to know that good Mormon families keep a year’s worth of food in storage at all times. I figure if I know just one family of Mormons, and I have a gun, I’ll be okay.

Okay, just kidding. Actually, the phrase “… find a safe place to ride out the fall of civilization ...” percolates through my head every once in a while, and I consider various alternatives. But I haven’t made any real decisions yet.

It’s funny how very much of our literature is based on the idea of the Hero. And yet nobody seems to realize that the reason we value heroes so much is the same reason we value gold: rarity.

HAHA Just to be CLEAR, I am not talking about BEING a HERO (except possibly to one’s own family!). Turning the tide of greed and stupidity of the world around? Well I rather imagine that all 3 of us have spent a lot of time between ages 18-45 TRYING to do just that. (Remember the Clinton years BEFORE NAFTA? THAT there was a heady, optimistic time!)

What I am referring to is this: in MY head, there is a little voice that goes, “OK, McCarty, you think you are so fucking SMART, you DO have BRAINS and you at least know enough about science and seeking out genuine “news” to know that is very likely coming down the turnpike.” (For instance, in Texas where I live, we are on year 2 of the Worst Drought Ever, with no end in sight. Dovetails nicely with that British report from last week, no?) The voice goes on, “ You are going to feel pretty fucking stupid, McCarty, when you are in the refugee camp, and you think, gee, I COULD have sold my house and my possessions and bought some land in an area that may remain arable, years ago, when I was ahead of everyone else in terms of seeing what was coming down the pike. Oops ! Procrastination again!”

Now, you guys might live in places that will remain arable.
But I trust this forum to be level-headed. Do you guys think it is a reasonable thing to start PLANNING for these climactic effects, at least to the extent that one would be able to provide safety and nourishment for a dog that is now 2 years old? I sure as hell don’t want to watch my starving neighbors rip my dogs limb from limb in order to eat them. (Sorry. Vivid imagination.)

You see, I had been thinking more along the lines of a PANDEMIC, rather than slow starvation due to drought/CO2 levels.

SHOULD we start thinking about relocating to places where we might be able to take care of those who are in our charge?

Kathy, I’d say yes.

Imagine the future as best you can (the dark aspects AND the bright ones). And then start living your life as if that future is really real.

Since i have to publicly respond to these sorts of questions in an academic panel at an environmental film festival in a couple of weeks, i need to at least start expressing something about it.  This is a great forum to do that, thanks for the thread.

First, i do not think that relocating is as critical as it might initially seem.  We have been indoctrinated to believe we need much more water than we actually need.  Beginning to change our way of living our lives is a huge and important step fraught with all manner of freakouts and angst.  But Cuba’s experience with their end of oil period (post Soviet collapse and increased US embargo pressures) for all practical purposes has much to teach us about the incredible possibilities that become available.  Humans are amazingly adaptable species (perhaps too much so for the planet’s good), and we can choose to live happily with much less than we think we can.  We can also grow foods, especially efficient drought resistant crops (there is just such a research program functioning now in Arizona, along with a cool Seed repository) in smaller but hugely more numerous gardens, with less water and waste etc; oh yeah, and with vastly less energy and fossil fuel use. 

Moving towards places assumed to be more beneficial because of modeled and projected global climate change, only exacerbates the problem.  It shifts the burdens on the environments long before they themselves would be fundamentally ready (so to speak) for these degrees of impacts.  What must happen, and must happen now, is the development of plans for creating sustainable local social and civil communities focused on living in ways that are enriching for the spirit no matter how hard they are on the people.  Yes, easy for me to say, but we too often overlook the lives of those hundreds of millions around the world who have been forced, by our way of living, to do with virtually nothing, yet survive sustainably and happily (okay, that is big relative value, but still).  Use this handy calculator to see what i mean.

Developing neighborhood cooperatives, community participatory gardening, elder and child care collaborative organizations, and other efforts to get your own city, town, village to be sustainable and harmoniously functional, vastly improves all aspects of the future.  Envision what these things look like for you, for your family, for your friends, for your neighbors.  Hank was not far off about the Mormon’s.  We are finding a great number of congregations of faith awakening to these sorts of “care for your own” efforts that account for, and acknowledge, post-peak oil economies and systems. 

I just got the latest Moody’s housing bubble implosion forecast and it looks bleak, with CA cities too often mentioned in the worst 25.  Too many people have expended their economic resources on the presumed value of a piece of land, rather than on the capacity of that land to facilitate cooperative collaborative shared resource development and use.  This is already becoming a problem, and needs addressing through changing zoning and other local and regional regulations (particularly tax codes).  To do this, you need to start getting involved in those process legislatively and electorally. 

Move if you need to, to be with your own tribe, your own clan, but recognize that choosing this path uses resources that must be developed rather than already exist.

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