The Sunrise Movement

I arrived at the address just as another young couple was knocking on the door.

“Are you here for the Sunrise thing too?” I asked.

They smiled but were spared response when a twenty-something guy opened the door, leaning out: “Sunrise Movement viewing party? Come on in.”

Sunrise is the young people’s climate action movement. It’s led and mostly peopled by high school and college students. The ask? Sweeping climate-based reform for the United States that transforms the economy.

Specifically, Sunrise is organizing for the Green New Deal. According to, the Green New Deal’s goals are:

To achieve net-zero greenhouse gas emissions through a fair and just transition for all communities and workers;
To create millions of good, high-wage jobs and ensure prosperity and economic security for all people of the United States;
To invest in the infrastructure and industry of the United States to sustainably meet the challenges of the 21st century;
To secure clean air and water, climate and community resiliency, healthy food, access to nature, and a sustainable environment for all people of the United States for generations to come; and
To promote justice and equity by stopping current, preventing future, and repairing historic oppression of indigenous peoples, communities of color, migrant communities, de-industrialized communities, depopulated rural communities, the poor, low-income workers, women, the elderly, the unhoused, people with disabilities, and youth.

My take? It’s the first American reaction on the scale of the climate change crisis that’s being taken seriously.

I showed up at the viewing party to get an idea of the plans, the urgency, and the local community.

The viewing party was at somebody’s house– our host looked up to smile welcome as we came in, then returned to hooking up his laptop to the big screen.

The kitchen table was collecting snacks– veggies, homemade cookies, Tupperware containers appearing as guests began to fill the room. The three couches were full, so I set myself up on the floor, chatting with an older guy who’s also involved in transit reform.

Our viewing party was one of three in the immediate vicinity, and it was standing room only as people continued arriving– we were watching a video panel call, broadcast nationwide.

There were three speakers: Sunrise’s head of training, who took the call from her dorm room; one of the early leaders, who has deferred college for a year in order to devote his time to leading Sunrise in Massachusetts; and Naomi Klein, public intellectual and activist.

They spoke for an hour, describing the need to get climate change as a central topic of the presidential debates in the next election, outlining a plan of mounting pressure on representatives, and urging us to hold our reps accountable for our visions for a better future.

When the call stopped, the room buzzed with ideas: plans to visit offices, art builds for sit-ins, ways to reach out to each other. It’s electric to be in the room– an issue that has been stagnant for so long is finally seeing change, and we feel it.

Groups like this are meeting all around the country: making a plan, taking power. Strangers, introducing themselves to each other to make common cause.

Sunrise is a youth-led movement. They’ve grown from thirtyish college and high school students to a national movement of thousands. It’s Do Something in action, as people realize that the people are us, the moment is now.

If climate change scares you, if regressive politics frustrate you– this is an invitation. Political action looks like individuals, deciding to show up.

There isn’t a Sunrise hub yet in Needham, but there could be one. Go to and click the “Start a Hub” button– they’ll help you get started fighting back against climate change.

Close Encounter

I don’t know what makes me linger to look across the cove. I’m bringing the formed bread out to the porch to proof in the cool evening. The door sits open behind me as I set the dutch oven down, but I step forward instead of back.

Maybe it’s the delicious chill of breeze on my arms. I’ve been reading too long by the fire, down to a thin tee while I wait for water to boil on the woodstove. So I’m there in the stillness to see it, just past the sandbar: a plume of spray, fading.

No way. It’s too close, too shallow. But it comes again, now that I can hear it:
Phwhwhwww. A spume. Humpback whales in Sunnyside Cove.

The door is still open behind me, but I’m pulling my boots on, running. Across the goosetongue patch, the rocks, the kelp, I race to the waterline. Twenty feet off, a whale blows, rises.

Whales’ pace is commensurate with size. I take double-digit breaths waiting for their next one. I wrap my arms around my thin blue tee, stare down the inlet.

Seagulls wheel in front of low yellow clouds. A whale surfaces, breathes, sinks. The above-water part between the dorsal fin and tail is as big as my canoe.

I watch until I see a tail: sure sign of a whale diving deep. I go back inside.

It’s my one night at Sunnyside home alone. Dana and her crew left this afternoon; my friends are arriving tomorrow; and Rick’s in town playing basketball tonight.

I check the rhubarb crisp, consider making tea. But I keep hearing whale sounds. So I go out to look again.

Closer than ever, fifteen feet offshore of the point. The whales surface in intervals, breathing, rolling, turning in the shallow water so their side fins breach.

I run out again. There’s an urge to be close to something so huge- a need to stand there and see: how big is it, really? Can I feel that mass of muscle if I’m near enough?

The water rises just before the exhale, mounding over the whale’s back. The ridge in the water, the blow, the breach, recede. A rush of water shushes along the shore: wake, displaced.

I’m still down by the water line, watching the whales circle, when motor noise alerts me to Rick coming home.

“Rick!” I yell across the water. “Whales!” I signal with the flashlight on my phone. I run over to him while he ties up the boat, run back to the whales by the point.

We decide to get the canoe. The whales aren’t moving off, so we figure we can get pretty close in a boat.

Down the long low-tide beach we carry the canoe. Quick on the calm water, we paddle. In the fading light, the sky is silver; the sea black. We chase toward the sprays and sounds.

Pretty soon, we hear whales off both bow and stern, forty feet and seventy. We wait, watch, guess their moves. We always see whales from afar. This time, can we get close?

We’re thirty feet out from shore when the far one blows. Then the near one blows between us and land– twenty feet away. They’re syncopated: the far whale blows, then the near.

I paddle in towards land. The far whale blows. Three. Two. Holy shit.

The water directly off the bow is rising. Four feet in front, a ridge. And then–
Breach. Four feet ahead, a side fin rises, higher than the boat, higher than me. The canoe tips in the displacement, wobbles.

The fin is a dark triangle, white underside. It cuts the water in a sweeping curve. Our canoe drifts still closer as we sit stunned. I don’t even reach to stabilize. The leviathan must be right below us in the black water. The water moves.

We see a hint of the massive body emerge, then sink. The fin sinks back down. The water roils. In our little canoe, all we can do is sit there. And then it’s past. The wave of displaced water rolls a susurrus down the rocky shore.

Hands shaking, I paddle to shore. Close enough for tonight.

See more of Kelsey’s writing at

Never Out of Season Review

This is an apocalyptic nonfiction set in the present. Robert Dunn plaintively presents the problem of modern agriculture, and tells the story of the few scientists and projects hoping to save the world.
The problem, briefly:
We’re dependent, globally, on a few species of plants.
If any of them develops incurable pests or pathogens, society as we know it will likely die.
Key Takeaways
Dunn’s major point is that biodiversity is of critical importance. Basically, if one key crop species is infected or infested, unless we have already invested in finding alternative varietals of that crop (bananas, potatoes, rubber trees, coffee, cacao), we’ll experience massive global shortages, and the shortages might last indefinitely.
He argues with clear frustration that efforts to preserve and catalog biodiversity are underfunded and receive too little attention overall.
Like many environmental books, it’s written by a scientist who sounds scared and frustrated. Like most environmental authors, Dunn asks the reader to consider the long view. Rapid-producing monocultures mean short-term profit at the cost of global resilience.
Food Security
90% of nutrition globally comes from 15 species of plants.
Any given species of plant can be targeted by a pest, pathogen, fungus, etc. If that crop-killer works on one plant in a monoculture, it can take out the whole crop. The Irish Potato Famine is a prime example.
In order to produce the most product, most farms plant whatever one crop species creates the highest yield. Basically, biodiversity is disincentivized, because planting something other than the highest-yielding species is like throwing away money.
Modern Materials
Rubber comes from rubber trees, primarily in Southeast Asia, usually planted close together.
Brazil has had rubber tree plantations, but there is a pathogen there that attacks rubber trees. If that pathogen reaches Southeast Asia, rubber on Earth will become a scarce resource within a year.
There are a lot of stories like this in the book, making the point again and again that our situation is precarious.
If something starts killing one of our major crop species, pandemic is likely, and we don’t have alternatives at the ready.
Dunn also cites a decline in public funding for the study of crop diversity, insects, and pathogens. We have some seed banks, but not a lot of libraries, databases, or staffed laboratories. The situation is worsening rather than improving.
What can we do?
In Michael Pollan’s New York Times essay “Why Bother?”, he relates his reaction of letdown and disbelief at the end of “An Inconvenient Truth”, when the viewer is asked to contribute by changing lightbulbs:
“The immense disproportion between the magnitude of the problem Gore had described and the puniness of what he was asking us to do about it was enough to sink your heart.”
Dunn’s book has the same disproportionately small ask. Like Pollan, he advises the reader to plant a garden– then participate in adding to our digital databases through citizen science:
Citizen Science Projects
Plant Village is a database and forum for the sharing of crop health information.
Students Discover is a set of lesson plans for kids to track plants, pests, and pollinators in backyards and schoolyards.
Citizen science is cool; cataloguing bugs and plants is a genuine contribution to the field of biodiversity.
Is that all?
The real ask is implicit– here’s what Dunn is not asking:
Create political pressure to increase funding for studies of biodiversity. At a town hall, I asked my representative why climate change was not on her slate of priorities. She told me frankly that she doesn’t hear about it much from constituents. If you want your representative to represent you, tell them what you need!
Make plant genetics or pathogen study into your passion and crusade– become a researcher. Dunn points out that there are fewer than ten specialists globally for each of several major food crop types. So, one more researcher can have a huge impact.
However, assuming you’re not up for a major lifestyle change, an account on iNaturalist is a nice way to turn nature walks into scientific data collection expeditions! There is a shortage of data, so citizen science really is worthwhile for this application.

Engineer in Social Benefit

Caroline Condon graduated from Olin College of Engineering in 2013. She took ADE for her Capstone and joined Engineers without Borders Canada after graduation. They connected her with Voto Mobile in Ghana. For the last two years she has lived and worked in Bamako, the capital of Mali, at a company called MyAgro. I interviewed her over video chat, where she used her office Wifi on a quiet weekday.

What do you work on?

The company that I work for sells seeds and fertilizer to smallholder farmers.

I work on agricultural tools. Our core products are seeds and fertilizer, but we’re also developing a tools portfolio, that I run.

What’s an example of a tool in your portfolio?

One of the tools is a planting machine, it’s called a “semoir”, which means “thing that plants” in French.

It’s got a slanted disc that scoops up the seeds and drops them out one at a time. And then, it has fertilizer that’s stored in a separate box. It puts a little bit of fertilizer next to every single seed (“microdosing”). It’s a lot more effective than spreading fertilizer all over the field.

How does the pricing work for a social benefit product?

We’re selling them at cost, at about $300 USD, to a population whose income is $1–1.50 per day. I would say that this product’s customer is the richer set of our clients– who are still, on a global scale, poor.

It’s by far the most expensive of our products. We’re focusing on reducing our manufacturing cost now, to make it accessible to everyone.

The demand is high at this price. But even if we filled the demand, there would still be a large chunk of farmers not using a semoir and microdosing . Our ultimate goal is to sell our semoir at the same price as non-microdosing planters.

Farmers work hard. they deserve good tools. It’s my privilege to be able to try to build those.

What’s an interesting project you worked on?

They sent me on a trip to China, to do the quality control visit at the factory. Our goal was to get a better idea of what parts are expensive, so that we could design them out.

They knew we had concerns about the cost. But sometimes they’d come back with suggestions that would make zero sense if you’d seen the machine in action. For example, they asked if we could make the holes bigger in the seed scoop. Then they could use a cheaper drill. But if they’re bigger, more seeds will fall into them. Their fundamental property is how large they are. They didn’t get it.

We found a plot near their building, and planted some soybeans with one of the tests, so they could see it in action.

A lot of why I went to China was relationship building. I brought a bunch of pictures of our farmers using it, which made them excited. That’s something I should have realized ahead of time– we had never sent them any video or anything.

They didn’t realize who was buying these machines from us. They thought we were selling them to the UN or something, who was giving them away for free. They hadn’t realized, oh, you’re selling them to farmers? No wonder you care so much about price!

How did you start working in social benefit?

Right after graduation, I moved to Ghana with the Canadian Engineers Without Borders.

In the development world, there’s been a lot of movement in the last couple of years to use phones. Voto Mobile’s first partner was a maternal health organization in northern Ghana. When women came into the clinic for prenatal care, they could sign up for text messages of health advice.

But they did a bunch of interviews, and they found out that 80% of the women couldn’t read the messages. The local language in this area is hard to write; you can’t get the right characters on a phone. So the texts were in English. Some women were having their kids read them when they got home from school.

Voto started by creating a platform for voice recordings rather than texts.

Why did you move to Mali?

I was not doing technical work, because I have no computer background. I decided I didn’t want to be away from engineering for so long. I was looking online, on Idealist.

MyAgro, where I work now, had this shipment of semoirs coming in on a boat from China. They had no one to put them together. So I came to do that. I had no connection with them, didn’t know any thing about Mali, didn’t speak any French. But I ended up staying.

Can you tell me about living in Mali?

Living here feels ordinary, at this point.

Bamaco is the safest city I’ve ever lived in, anywhere in the world. It’s very laid back, petty crime is very uncommon. Walking through the markets, no one has ever tried to pickpocket me.

People sit out on the streets until very, very late at night. That’s where a lot of common life takes place. They play checkers, and they make tea. So I could walk home at midnight from a bar, and pass all my neighbors.

Mali is great. It’s been a real privilege to me to be able to move around and live in different places. I’d highly recommend it to anyone who has the chance.


Fight Ignorance. Learn.

I’ve heard the word “ignorant” used a lot in frustration toward 2016’s election. People throw their hands up: how do you fix ignorance?
Activism is local. Make it really local: educate yourself. Find an issue you don’t know a lot about, and then find a way to learn more. Maybe you know a lot about feminist issues, but not much about racial justice. Maybe you know about environmentalism, but not trans rights, or what it feels like to be an immigrant.
Find your own weaknesses and confront them.
There are lots of ways to research and learn.
Personally, I rely on two main sources: feeds, and books.
Justice Education Through Feeds
I get a lot of my ongoing social justice education through sources I stumble across and add to my feed reader. Two consistent sources I love:
Personal essays on disability in the New York Times
Intersectional feminism & personal discussion of being trans*, queer, and polyamorous by Robot Hugs (excuse the clickbaity titles added by the publisher– I subscribe to, which includes the artist’s comics on these topics and others, such as cats)
Another good source is people on Twitter who are active in native rights, racial justice, penal issues, etc. . If you know of great sources, please let me know!
Seeking Perspective in Books
Books are, and always have been, my mainstay. Long-form writing lets authors show you a world– whether that’s fantasy, history, or personal truth.
Walk a few hundred pages in someone else’s shoes.
There are some great reading challenges going around.
Ashe Dryden’s “Unpresidented” reading challenge highlights a marginalized group for each month of the year
The #DiversityBingo2017 card is all over Twitter right now as people suggest or declare books for each category.

The #DiversityBingo2017 book bingo card
The basic idea is to expand your worldview by listening to a perspective you don’t usually hear.
Is this enough?
Of course not. Educating yourself is a really good idea, and it does fight ignorance. But it’s not enough by itself. Here’s what it does:
Educating yourself– every day– keeps these issues on the top of your mind. If you build empathy education into your routines, you’ll think about these issues. You’ll talk about them.
Education shapes thought; thought shapes action. It’s a start.


Engineering and Entrepreneurship Opportunities from “Energy Myths and Realities” by Vaclav Smil

This book is a set of sober, science-based calculations and assessments. It’s technical but not inaccessible. The author is disappointed with current energy debates, proposed policies, and news headlines, because they aren’t based on sound reasoning. He wrote this book to fill in the science and inform the conversation.
I’ve summarized my takeaways from the book in this post, but I also recommend that you check out the book. At 163 pages, it’s no dense tome. The chapters are laid out by topic, and the pages are peppered with clear and compelling graphs. If you’re only curious about one of the topics, by all means, read only that chapter.
My takeaways, below, are a study guide you can refer to when you’re reading an overly optimistic book on energy or climate change. Before you get too excited, flip to the appropriate chapter and let Smil take some of the air out of an overinflated idea.
I’ve also listed in each section a few opportunities and challenges which would make the technology more viable. This is a flip of Smil’s cynicism: he outlines the technical problems clearly. It’s up to us to solve the challenge.
Chapter 1: Electric Cars
Reality: Electric cars are only a niche piece of the market, and will be long into the next decades.
Myth: All cars will be electric cars in the near future (next 10-ish years).
Smil’s main points:
Slow adoption rate. Hybrid cars have taken more than 10 years to claim less than 3% of the market. Why would we think all-electric cars, which require much more infrastructure investment, would adopt to 100% in that same amount of time? Likely technology adoption rates in most researched, published scenarios put the likely share of pure-electric cars at no more than 25% by 2050. (p25)
We don’t produce enough energy to charge 100% of cars, and can’t scale up to it quickly. Assuming that the overall demand of a midsized electric car is around 6MW/year, if all American cars suddenly became electric, we would immediately need new power generation equal to 25% of all of the energy used in the United States in 2008. (p26)
We can’t produce that much more energy soon. It took 15 years (1993–2008) to spin up that quantity of power the last time we did. (p26)
Battery performance is sub-par and degrades quickly. Lithium ion batteries lose power even when idle and their performance degrades over time and with temperature. Tesla engineers expect the car battery pack to degrade by as much as 30% in 5 years (p29)
Opportunities and challenges:
In large cities (where electric cars for commute make the most sense), 30–60% of cars are parked curbside. Since most electric car scenarios envision overnight charging in garages, how would these curb-parked cars be charged? (p25)
If all new cars were electric, 98% of cars would still be burning fossil fuels. How do we get old cars off of the roads more quickly?
Electric cars pull a lot of load; how do we manage the charging of each electric car so that we don’t create a new energy peak?
Gas-fueled internal combustion engines might be a more efficient way to get energy into a car for some time to come. American energy is largely oil-produced; the tradeoff of miles per gallon of gas directly in the car vs. through an electricity generation process and transport through the grid is comparable– about 38mpg for an average electric car in 2008 (p27). With this in mind, one challenge is to improve the efficiency of the gas-powered combustion engine. Such projects are underway, e.g. DiesOtto by Mercedes-Benz. (p28)
What’s a better energy storage solution than Lithium-ion batteries?
Reduce the power consumption of an electric car, or increase the ramp-up speed of bringing additional (sustainable) power online.
What are the main causes behind slow hybrid adoption– do they apply to electrics, and are these things we can change?
Chapter 2: Nuclear Electricity
Reality: Nuclear electricity is one of few ways to bring on large amounts of power per plant on relatively short timescales, but it’s not going to be cheap, fast, or ethically straightforward.
Myth: Nuclear energy will singlehandedly solve the world’s energy needs by providing huge quantities of clean energy at minimal cost in the near future.
Smil’s main points:
Building a nuclear energy plant is very, very slow and expensive. Between 1972 and 1992, the cost of building a new 1 GW nuclear power plant in the United States increased more than 10x. This was due mostly to increased safety regulations. The plants are now much less likely to become meltdown sites, but the adoption rate is very slow. (p36)
Nuclear fission is not in our near future. Smil particularly addresses the hope of liquid metal fast breeder nuclear reactors. The subject has been funded and researched since the 1940’s with no promising commercial outcomes yet. (p38–39)
Opportunities and challenges:
A big reason why new nuclear plants have been expensive is that the laws changed while construction was already underway. Another (relatedly) is that they don’t follow a standard design. There may be an opportunity to greatly reduce construction cost and time by designing and implementing a standardized nuclear plant now that regulations are more settled.
Devise a good/safe/reliable method for storing a small volume of highly radioactive waste to be sequestered for thousands of years. No country has one yet. (p43)
“Nuclear generation is the only low-carbon-footprint option that is readily available on a gigawatt-level scale. That is why nuclear power should be part of any serious attempt to reduce the rate of global warming; at the same time, it would be naive to think that it could be (as some suggest) the single most effective component of this challenge during the next ten to thirty years. The best hope is for it to offer a modest contribution. “ (p43) Assuming nuclear power should be a part of a sustainable solution– especially as a high-reliability, high-power complement to wind/solar/etc.’s fluctuating lower-wattage contribution, what further construction is necessary? (p40)
If you’re firmly anti-nuclear, figure out how to redistribute the research funds. Nuclear research received 96% of all funds appropriated by the US Congress for energy-related R&D between 1947 and 1998, a total of $145b in 1998 dollars (p43)
One challenge is to create accurate public perception surrounding the social and planetary costs of nuclear energy. Waste disposal and other issues are not all worked out, ethically – but where do these impacts stand in relation to coal and oil in terms of human and environmental degradation per watt?
Chapter 3: Soft Energy
Reality: “Soft energy” is the theoretical matching of natural renewable energy flows to local power consumption. Small and local sound appealing, but are not inherently better. While there may be a place for local energy generation, a full solution likely includes many energy sources, depending on their individual economics.
Myth: The idea posits that by decentralizing power production and localizing it by community, we can eliminate inefficiencies such as infrastructure investments, transmission line power losses, and power company office workers. The result is cheaper, renewable, locally conscious power for all.
Smil’s main points:
Soft energy assumes an imminent world shift to renewable energy. This would be nice, but it’s debunked in chapter 8 (p47).
Soft energy is only a small portion of current energy usage, nowhere near the touted adoption rate. No country, as of 2000, uses local power as a major (even non-negligible) energy source. The author of the theory proposed in 1976 that soft energy would account for 33% of United States energy by 2000. Instead, it was less than 0.5% (p47).
Forcing transition to local biogas generation failed in Maoist China. As part of the Great Leap Forward, communities were mandated to produce biogas as fuel by use of a digester that would use waste products, plants, human sewage, etc. as raw inputs. Typical output was not enough fuel to cook rice three times a day (p50).
Big projects leverage economies of scale. Producing power in large plants reduces the cost of construction, transmission, infrastructure, and all the other rolled-in costs of soft energy — to the extent that it can be cheaper per watt than small, local installations.
Opportunities and challenges:
The biogas generators in China were not maximally efficient. Proper biogas generation requires completely anaerobic digestion, precise input mixing, and temperatures above 20C. Is there an opportunity to create a more self-managing digester? What other local power solutions become plausible if made usable by non-experts?
Small and local power generation might still be a worthwhile component of an full energy solution– how can it be approached economically and with appropriate expectations? In what situations is it more effective or efficient than traditional power plant scenarios?
Chapter 4: Peak Oil
Reality: The world has a lot of untapped oil; we’re not about to run out, and resource harvesting rates are asymptotic, not bell-curved. (Not Smil’s point, but we actually have the opposite problem: 2 degrees celsius is the international standard of “let’s not warm the earth any more than that”, but oil company reserves show 5x more than the allotted CO2 we can afford to emit as part of their currently valued net worth– see the Do the Math campaign from Naomi Klein and Bill McKibben).
Myth: Based on the incorrect belief that resource extraction curves fit a bell curve, “peak oil’ is the idea that we will run out of oil to extract and then our industry will drop precipitously, returning us to a hunter-gatherer lifestyle within a few thousand years (p62–64)
Smil’s main points:
The model is incorrect. The best fit for a resource extraction model is logarithmic, so while we will hit an asymptote on oil (and thus be unable to keep up with increasing demand), we won’t suddenly be out of energy. (p66)
We have a lot of oil already recoverable. The United States Geographical Survey sets a 95% probability there are 400b barrels of oil that can be extracted from currently known fields. At a current global rate of ~100m barrels consumed per day, this would last us 4000 years (p68).
There’s probably a lot more oil we haven’t found yet. There are enormous major sedimentary fields both associated with existing land and deep underwater that most likely have a lot of oil. They have not been truly tapped until they have the same density of drilling as Texas. (p68)
Opportunities and challenges:
We aren’t going to run into a physical limit on oil in the near future, so the challenge is on human restraint. How do we make it plausible to give up our existing energy infrastructure when not forced to?
How do we align exponential growth in energy usage and logarithmic growth in oil harvest?
Chapter 5: Carbon Sequestration
Reality: Carbon sequestration is not something we can reliably accomplish in an energy-efficient manner with clear and permanent results. Many otherwise valuable carbon sequestration opportunities are decreasingly powerful due to the effects of global warming.
Myth: We can keep emitting as much carbon as we want, because we can just sequester it back out of the atmosphere.
Smil’s main points:
Global warming reduces the likelihood that we can count on forests and trees as permanent carbon sinks. Sequestration of carbon in forests fluctuates to the extent that some years forests can produce more carbon than they sequester (p80). In the near future, Tropical forests’ carbon impacts will change in the near future mostly due to deforestation, but many other forests will be limited by water and soil nutrient availability, especially a lack of nitrogen. This is one of the effects of global warming. We will also have more carbon-releasing wildfires across these forests due to longer droughts from global warming. (p82)
Sequestering the amount of carbon we emit in trees would require truly enormous new forests. Planting mixed forests sequesters carbon at the rate over which the trees mature — so in 10–80 years after planting (depending on the type of tree), the tree must continue to live to hold carbon, but it does not offset new emissions (p82). Offsetting just 10% of 2005 carbon would require a planting as big as the combined forests of North America and Russia, or a ~15% increase in tropical forests (p82).
There is opportunity to sequester carbon in soil, but global warming makes this type of sequestration uncertain in the long term. Soil stores about 4 times the carbon that is stored in land plants (p83). Tropospheric ozone levels are increasing and can reduce plant productivity thus slowing soil sequestration. Uncertainty caused by global warming means we can’t know whether soil will net store carbon from plants or net emit it from decomposition (p83)
Biochar could improve carbon sequestration in soil, but there are logistical and environmental challenges. Soil with biochar stores 2.5x carbon as soil of the same type without it (p83). However, there is currently no supply chain set up to source waste biomass (p84).
Biochar can provide only a small piece of the solution; 900 million tons of straw (the total amount produced by affluent counties) turned into biochar (ignoring the logistical and application challenges) would sequester only 2.5% of the CO2 emitted globally in 2005 (p84).
Pumping CO2 into basalt might have a small effect, but it’s unproven. The idea is to trap CO2 in basalt layers beneath the Indian Ocean and/or the Juan de Fuca tectonic plate. This method, if functional, could only trap 4% of American CO2 emissions — so, this would be less effective than raising car emissions standards (p87)
We don’t have an infrastructure to capture, move, and sequester carbon. Most sequestration solutions depend on pipelines of CO2 and other infrastructure that we don’t have and which will take time to build. (p87)
Sucking carbon out of the atmosphere is highly experimental. One specific project posits the deployment of artificial trees that circulate a carbon-sucking liquid (likely an aqueous solution of calcium hydroxide). Each of these trees could theoretically suck up to 90k tons per year, so it would take only 160k of these to remove half of global carbon emissions from 2005 — assuming the trees have access to lots of wind (for high throughput) or high elevation (where carbon concentrations are higher). Circulation of the fluid and extraction of the carbon from it may be energy-intensive. Then, the problem of sequestering the carbon is yet unsolved (p89).
Capturing carbon at its source is a good idea, but companies are not incentivized to capture and sequester their emissions. “CCS” (carbon capture and sequestration) involves sorting CO2 out of exhaust at its source, transporting the CO2 (typically, in compressed form through pipelines) and injecting it into underground structures (p89).
Carbon sequestration through direct intervention by humans has unknown long-term effects. We don’t know what effect there is in injecting CO2 into underground structures. Sudden, catastrophic events might include earthquakes which rupture reservoirs and emit the CO2 gas directly back into the environment. Slow, long-term effects could include chemical reactions between stored CO2 and surrounding groundwater; some evidence suggests that this could result in heavy metals in drinking water reservoirs (p94).
Opportunities and challenges:
Soil carbon is currently at half of preagricultural levels (because of intensive farming practices), so there is opportunity to store much more carbon in soil while also improving soil productivity (p83). Biochar could be a piece of this practice, though its integration currently requires tillage of the land (which can be environmentally destructive) (p84).
Potential sources of biomass to pyrolize into biochar include crop residues and forestry waste. However, both of those include yet-unsolved logistical challenges, and might be environmentally destructive to collect (p84). Is there a better biomass source available? Can forestry and crop waste be collected effectively and nondestructively?
Oil and gas companies already use CO2 pipelines and injections to harvest oil, so there is strong technical feasibility for transport and underground injection of CO2. We could even use the existing infrastructure, as a profit incentive for oil & gas companies. Is there a way to use this infrastructure and build additional for carbon sequestration? (p90)
Improve the efficiency and deployment of carbon-sucking “trees” and other artificial techniques. Key areas of work with the “trees” mentioned are the energy required to keep the sorbent fluid circulating (especially in high wind), and the heat-intensive CO2 gas extraction process from the aqueous solution of calcium hydroxide (p89).
Figure out a long-term place to put sequestered CO2 such that it cannot rupture and leak into the environment.
Chapter 6: Biofuels
Reality: Biofuels could someday be a promising supplement to oil-based fuels, but right now massive deployment relies on processes that have not been proven commercially viable. Additionally, harvesting the biomass for biofuels can be environmentally destructive.
Myth: We can replace all of our gas and oil use with biofuels like corn-based ethanol.
Smil’s main points:
Ethanol is not an efficient energy source. The energy content of ethanol is 65% that of gasoline (p98).
Corn-based ethanol requires more land than we can use. If all of America’s gasoline were from corn derived ethanol, the growing of corn to cover American fuel use would require 220mil hectares, 20% more than American arable land (p101).
Ethanol-providing crops can contribute to environmental degradation. In corn crops, nitrogen fertilizer runoff is a key negative effect (p103). In other crops, such as sugar cane, expanding need for arable land can contribute to deforestation (p101).
Opportunities and challenges:
Sugar cane is better than corn for ethanol production because it requires minimal fertilizer and has a higher power yield per hectare of planting (p104). The United States has high tariffs on Brazilian sugar cane ethanol, so it is not commonly imported into the United States (p105). Is there a way to grow sugar cane (or a higher power yield crop) in a place with more favorable trade conditions where sugar cane can be sustainably grown?
Cellulosic ethanol is a promising technology to turn waste into biofuel, but it is yet unproven as commercially viable. Though it will take decades to scale up this industry, it is worthwhile to research potential processes for creating cellulosic ethanol (p108).
Since energy density is lower in biofuel than in gas (and we have inefficient vehicles) miles per gallon would be low and fuel weight could be significant in a biofueled car (p114). Can this inefficiency be decreased?
Chapter 7: Wind Power
Reality: Wind power has several challenges, particularly in infrastructure and height of wind harvest, to overcome before it can come close to promised power production quantities. If you’d like to delve more deeply into wind power challenges, I found Ramez Naam’s post on the subject more thorough than Smil’s chapter.
Myth: Wind power will provide all or nearly all of the energy we need in an infinitely renewable manner in the near future.
Smil’s main points:
Wind can theoretically be a major source of renewable energy, but never 100% of power needs. In 2007, global electricity production was 1,800 TWh (p125). Globally, about 1,200 TW is dissipated within 1km of the earth’s surface– and therefore harvestable (p121).
Wind power requires a lot of land (in windy places). A reasonable assumption of wind power capacity factor (the actual power output divided by the maximum theoretical output) is no higher than 25% based on measurements in Europe, so 4.1 TW of installed capacity would cover half of 2007 global power needs — which would cover a space equal in area to four Frances, assuming 2 W per square meter (p125).
Opportunities and challenges:
North America is particularly well suited for wind power generation because there is a high land area of strong winds areas distributed across the land. But the continent also has prolonged calms and excessively strong winds; both conditions halt wind power generation (p128). How can wind power be stabilized or complemented to provide steady renewable power at peak times?
There are not currently many high voltage power transmission lines from America’s windiest sites to its most populous cities. How can we get wind power to where it’s needed efficiently?
Winds are steadier at higher altitudes, but transportation logistics of very tall wind turbines is already a challenge for the technology. What are creative ways to harvest high-up wind energy without requiring the transport of massive structures? (Companies such as Altaeros have creative approaches to this problem.)
Chapter 8: Pace of Energy Transitions
Reality: It takes many decades to transition between energy types. Humans took hundreds of years to move from wood, to coal, to oil, and we should expect a similar timescale to move away from oil and coal to any next energy staples.
Myth: We just have to solve a few key problems, and then we can expect mass adoption of renewable energy sources in our lifetimes.
Smil’s main points:
Energy transitions are slow by nature. Oil took 50 years to climb from first commercial production to a 10% market share, and we continue to depend on prior dominant energy forms: coal, wood (p138).
From data up to 2008, we are not currently transitioning off of oil. In 2008, energy from new renewable energy sources was less than 2.4% in the United States. The American dependence on foreign oil has climbed steadily since at least 1973 (p135).
Quick energy transitions destabilize economies. Any new technology adoption requires a heavy up-front investment (estimated by Smil at at least $3 trillion. This is needed both in the energy sourcing and transport infrastructures, and in the “primary movers”, the major users of the new energy (such as cars). Primary movers take years to become efficient (p138). Quick changes in primary energy sources leaves less time to build infrastructure and primary movers. Transition also requires people who had invested in the old system to write off of that infrastructure investment (p142).
Renewable energy doesn’t work well with our existing energy grid. This is an energy transmission problem; the population centers of the United States are at the coasts, but the best spots for wind and solar are far from there. We don’t have high-voltage transmission lines between them, and thus no good way to move that power (if generated) to where it is needed.
Opportunities and challenges:
To what extent is it possible to adapt existing infrastructure to clean energy sources?
How can we anticipate the market by creating primary movers that will work renewably with the new energy system we seek but also functionally within the existing system?

I liked this book because it was straightforward, in good faith. Smil is uninterested in convincing you that climate change is real, or that we need to change our energy usage, production, et cetera. He just wants to explain, in detail, why widely touted solutions and expectations will not work.
I encourage you to read this not as discouragement, but as a starting point and an opportunity for further ideas in the space. I enjoyed Smil’s work, but found him quick to write off genuine improvements in our carbon economy just because the effect they can have is small.
Challenging problems, well defined, make for a good place to start.

How and Why to Volunteer at a Refugee Camp

I’m Kelsey, Olin ‘13. I recently spent several weeks volunteering in refugee camps in Greece. I recommend the experience, both for your own learning and for the impact you can have.

Before I went to volunteer with the refugee crisis, I thought it would be a huge commitment to go and do. It’s not. I was amazed how easy it was to just show up, with no particular pre-planning, and participate.

If you want to come, here are some useful roles:
– Teachers of English as a second language for adults and children- whether or not you have any particular certification
– People who speak Arabic, Kurdish, or Faarsi
– People who speak Greek
– People who are good with kids
– People who are construction savvy or otherwise handy
– People willing to lend a hand with whatever is needed
– Good listeners who can write

If you are creative, this work can use all of your skills.

Camps are mapped here, and there is typically an informative (if messy) Facebook group you can find for up-to-date information on each. You can show up on site and find other volunteers, ask them about useful work.

If you can cover the airfare, the rest can be pretty cheap. Specifically for Ritsona (the camp I volunteered at), you can get to Chalkida on a fast train from Athens and share rides to the camp with fellow volunteers. The hotel we went to, the nicest in town, had us for 35 a night with decent Wifi and a beautiful breakfast you could pack for lunch. Greece is in a recession, so groceries are inexpensive.

It is common to come for just a week. This was a huge surprise to me. Longer is better, but a week is all that many people can manage away from their regular lives. A month is better, but one week in this job feels much longer than it is.

I went as an “independent volunteer”, as opposed to with a program or organization. If you prefer to join an organization, they might make the logistics easier, and will tell you what tasks to do – and where and when. As an independent, I figured out where to go, and came up with my own ideas for where I could help. Different ways of volunteering appeal to different people.

Figuring out what to do was hard, sometimes. There’s a lot of day-after-day work that will be there tomorrow whether or not you do it today. Things like playing with the kids. Picking up litter. Collecting firewood. Making food. I did all of these things, with varying levels of success. I also used my tech skills to getting internet in the camp and helping people (displaced Syrians and volunteers alike) figure out how to be effective with their phones. Sometimes, the most useful I could be in a moment was to sing American songs for a family, or juggle to distract the kids.

In a lot of ways, the most important thing to do is be present and helpful. The people I met were frustrated; they felt abandoned, and not without cause. Being there helps, a little.

The most important thing: being there, you can befriend the people who are in this situation. You can talk to these displaced people. You can learn from them.

When I left on the trip, I felt selfish. I worried about being a “white savior”. I’ve read that it’s more effective to send money than go yourself to do humanitarian aid. But I wanted to see what our politics looked like on the ground, and to get a sense of perspective, so I went anyway.

Here’s the thing: I’m glad I went, and in retrospect I think it was better to go than to just send money. Money helps with humanitarian aid. But this isn’t, at heart, a humanitarian issue; it’s fundamentally political. It’s a war, combined with widespread xenophobia. The thousands of people trapped in Greece are a byproduct of political climates that don’t treat humans like humans. I was useful because I could meet refugees and talk to them just as people.

Sending money is good. It goes to food, and shoes, garbage bags, adult diapers, and all the little things that need fixing in the refugee camps. But the political problem is bigger than the physical one: the humanitarian problem would go away if the people in these camps had someplace to go. And this is what they’re asking for: don’t fix our tents, just open the borders.

You and me, we’re just people. We can’t change the course of politics singlehandedly. But we can tell stories, and we can burst bubbles. We can remind people who are here that lives are being held on pause there. We can be loud in our democracy. And human to human, that’s a start.


The United States has pledged to take in 10,000 people, which is not very much. We can ask for an Act of Congress to pledge more. You can find your Senators’ contact information at this link: and your Representative’s contact information by typing in your zip code in the top right corner on this website: . An email can be as simple as saying “I support resettling Syrian refugees in the United States.”

I spent time receiving refugees on the island of Chios (now most infamous as the location of the Vial detainment camp) and also in the longer-term Ritsona camp. If you’d like to read more about my experiences, start here:

If you want more information about volunteering, email me!

A Candid Conversation with Jialiya Huang

A Candid Conversation with Jialiya Huang about hardware development, working with co-founders, and what it feels like to get a company off the ground.

sept2013_tesselJialiya Huang, class of 2013.5, founded Technical Machine with Tim Ryan, class of ‘13.5, and Jon McKay, class of ’13, this summer. The company launched Tessel, their first product on September 5th, and is both thrilled and innervated by all the interest the Tessel has received already on Hacker News, Hackaday, and Japanese Slashdot.
Full disclosure, I’m working for Technical Machine too– mostly on press and marketing at the moment. But it was still a great opportunity to speak with Jialiya at length about the future of hardware development and her personal goals in starting a company.

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A Candid Conversation with Oscar Mur Miranda

I accidentally scheduled Oscar’s interview for a holiday, but characteristically, he was already planning to be on campus. The bench under the window of his office was, as always, covered with functioning breadboarded circuits. He wore his usual easy grin and silk tie.

A native of both Spain and Puerto Rico, Oscar came, as he describes it, “home” to Boston in 1990. He earned his degrees at MIT, then came to Olin in 2005. At Olin, Oscar teaches Electrical Engineering, Design, and International Development.

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Editor in Chief Announced

New Editor-in-Cheif: LyraFor real this time! I hope you enjoyed our April 1st article last month, introducing Nick Tatar as Editor in Chief.

Although we at Frankly Speaking appreciate Tatar’s good humor in nodding along to last month’s April Fool’s Day article falsely instating him to the role of Editor in Chief, Frankly Speaking remains unofficial, unaffiliated, and quintessentially student-run.

As I will be graduating in less than a month, I am very pleased to announce that Lyra Silverwolf will be taking over my role as editor in chief starting this September.

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