All posts by apgoldst

We are all rock climbers

It’s graduation season, and many people are thinking extra hard (perhaps feeling extra uncertain) about their careers. I’ve been thinking about career paths a lot lately, especially for scientists and Ph.D.s, and I’d like to share some recent thoughts. (The original thread of tweets that inspired this post starts here.)

There is a myth that we tell ourselves about careers—the idea that a career should follow a linear trajectory from start to finish. It’s easy to see how the myth is propagated. We start in grade school and work our way up one year at a time, with a clear outline of how to get from kindergarten to high school. Those who go to college and graduate school might appear to be on this linear path for more than 20 years.

The idea of a linear path is reinforced when people give us career advice by describing the steps that they took (education, first job, promotion, and so on) to reach their current position. These stories imply that if we want to attain their status, we should follow their path. I have a vivid mental image of this myth we’ve created, in which each career endpoint (doctor, lawyer, professor, etc.) sits at the top of a shining tower. Each person must start at the bottom and choose a particular tower, and then we all set off trying to climb as high as we can.

Good luck. Hope you don't fall. Photo by phlyingpenguin.
Good luck. Hope you don’t fall. Photo by phlyingpenguin.

In the tower myth, if I begin training for a particular career and later change my goal, I am essentially jumping off the tower I’ve been climbing and choosing another one. I consider my earlier training period to be time wasted, since I am starting over at the bottom of the new tower. I might hope to move more quickly up this tower, since I am an experienced climber, but I am also competing with a younger and more energetic crowd of newcomers. I begin to doubt myself and my abilities, and I wonder if I wouldn’t have been better off continuing to struggle up that same old tower.

It’s a simple and seductive way to see the world. It’s also completely wrong.

A better myth

In reality, there are no towers with obvious steps leading to predictable goals. Each person has a unique set of skills, interests and life experiences that determine what goals they set for themselves and what path they choose to take. I propose a different career metaphor: the rock climbing wall.

Which way now? Photo by cegoh.
Which way now? Photo by cegoh.

In case you’ve never done rock climbing, here’s how it works. You start at the bottom and choose a set of handholds that are accessible to you, and you start climbing. The route that you take on the wall depends on your size, strength, flexibility and many other factors. There is no right or wrong way of going up the wall.

Better yet, you don’t even have to go up the wall. The best paths often require going sideways. At some point, you will probably need to rest in place for a while and reassess your plan. You take one step at a time, and you can easily end up at a completely different place than your original target. And if you discover that the only holds within reach are below you, then you go back down for a bit. Going down the wall does not mean you have failed—it is in fact the only way to succeed.

A person reflecting on their climb might only mention a few key steps that they took on their way to the top. They don’t usually talk about the long detours, or the times they almost fell. Maybe those people are afraid they will appear weaker and less heroic by talking about their missteps. Personally, I would much rather hear about a person’s tortuous path. When I see the twists and turns that others have taken, I am inspired to think creatively about my own career and where it might go.

But is it fair?

There is one aspect to the rock climbing metaphor that bothers me, so I present it with this caveat. In rock climbing, a person on the ground can easily look at the wall and select a good starting point. This implies that another person might choose to start in the same place, in which case their relative success will be determined by their relative skill or how hard they tried.

Unfortunately, the real world does not work that way. Some groups of people benefit from social privilege, and they are able to travel through life with the advantages that come from being white, or male, or able-bodied, for example. Two people of identical talent may put in identical effort toward a goal and get very different outcomes, if one of them must struggle for resources that are given freely to the other.

Meme by Jonathan McIntosh.
Meme by Jonathan McIntosh.

So I’ll make an additional rule for our metaphorical rock climbing wall: you don’t get to decide where you start. Some people have access to an easier path than others; the system is inherently unfair. Because of this inequality, we should at least put a soft mat on the floor to protect anyone who falls off the wall (hint: social welfare).

I’ll stop there to avoid stretching the metaphor too far. If the rock climbing analogy is helpful to you, I hope you’ll share it with your friends and colleagues. And next time you feel anxiety over your career path, just imagine that you are on a rock wall (or maybe take up actual rock climbing!) and try to see the beauty of a world where everyone takes their own individual path.

 

Our energy vocabulary:

The words we use for the stuff we can’t see

This post was also published on The Energy Collective on 4/9/2015.

It’s hard to talk about energy. Just ask any science teacher who has tried to define energy in a classroom. People stare blankly when you say, “It’s the ability to do work.” They furrow their brow when you tell them it’s not the same thing as “power.” You lose them completely if you bring up the laws of thermodynamics.

And yet, this thing that defies simple definition is critical to everything we do. Energy is fundamental to all facets of life on Earth. So it’s no surprise that folks who spend their days talking about energy have had to develop a special vocabulary, in order to have concrete discussions about an enigmatic concept.

In particular, if you want to talk about the effect that energy sources have on the environment, there is a large variety of phrases to choose from. Let’s look at a few of them, based on a literal interpretation of the words.

Concerned about pollution? Try clean energy. Afraid of running out of fossil fuels? You probably want renewable energy, or perhaps sustainable energy (more on these later). Is climate change your biggest worry? You may want to promote low-carbon energy. There is also alternative energy, which is attractive to people who know that they don’t like fossil fuels, but don’t want to specify exactly why. Even more vague is green energy, which refers to nothing specific at all and simply labels the person who says it as pro-environment.

Words come and go over time

With this long menu of phrases available, you might wonder which ones are used most often. Google Ngram Viewer lets you graph how often a word or phrase has appeared in books written in recent history. Plotting the five phrases below, we see that “renewable energy” has been the forerunner since the late 80’s.

Percent of books written in English that include various energy phrases, 1970–2008. Plot from Google Books Ngram Viewer.
Percent of books written in English that include various energy phrases, 1970–2008. Plot from Google Books Ngram Viewer.

(I wonder happened in the early 80’s to cause publishing on both “renewable” and “alternative” energy to take a temporary dive. If you have thoughts on this, please comment.)

[UPDATED 4/10/2015: Commenter Bruce McFarling on the Energy Collective points out that the 1970’s were a time of increasing oil prices, and thus increasing interest in alternatives to oil. Indeed, the trajectory of inflation-adjusted oil prices bears strong resemblance to the red and blue curves above.]

Google Trends data confirm that “renewable energy” is also consistently the preferred term for curious readers. “Green energy” is relatively more prominent in online search than it is in print.

trends
Relative web search prevalence worldwide, 2004–2015. Plot from Google Trends.

Thinking harder about “renewable”

When it comes to making the public more aware of energy issues, I’m in favor of any and all phrases that motivate people to be conscientious energy consumers. The words “clean,” “green,” “renewable,” “sustainable,” etc. are great ways to remind people of the connection between energy and the environment.

But if you look beneath the surface, there are some important nuances that go into determining the words that experts use to talk about energy. Take nuclear energy, for example. Nuclear fission requires uranium mined from the ground. While the known reserves of uranium are fairly large, we can’t get more uranium after it’s gone, so nuclear energy is not renewable.

Now consider geothermal energy, which is commonly referred to as a renewable energy source. When underground hot water is tapped to generate electricity, the lost heat is then replenished over time from the large reserves of heat inside the planet. (See Chapter 4 of this IPCC special report for some helpful information on geothermal energy.) While the amount of heat stored in Earth’s core is massive (~1031 J), it is also finite. We can’t get more after it’s gone. So is geothermal energy actually renewable?

Grand Prismatic Spring in Yellowstone National Park, photo by WikiImages
Grand Prismatic Spring in Yellowstone National Park, photo by WikiImages

For that matter, what about solar energy? Solar is considered the epitome of “renewable,” but sunlight itself is also technically a finite resource. Eventually the Sun will turn into a red giant and consume Earth, at which point I’m pretty sure our solar panels won’t work anymore. To avoid this kind of semantic quibbling, many people (especially fans of nuclear energy) prefer the word “sustainable” to describe energy sources which humans could continue to exploit for many, many years.

Sustainability is complicated

Just like “renewable,” the definition of “sustainable” depends on many factors, including the timescale and the rate of resource extraction. If the reserves of a particular resource are very large relative to how much we are using, then its use might be called “sustainable,” because we don’t need to worry about running out any time soon (depending on your definition of “soon”).

But that’s not the end of the story. Sustainability is a higher standard than simply having “enough” of something. Our social, environmental and economic systems are enormously complex, and no one resource can be extracted and used in isolation. To be fairly labeled “sustainable,” our energy usage should not damage or disrupt other important resources, such as the air we breathe or the water we drink.

It is also important to note that “sustainable” can be used as a relative term, just like “clean.” So nuclear energy is both clean and sustainable relative to fossil fuels’ impact on global climate, but it is dirty and unsustainable if you assume that the radioactive waste can not be safely contained.

Isar II nuclear power plant in Germany, photo by Bjoern Schwarz
Isar II nuclear power plant in Germany, photo by Bjoern Schwarz

Ultimately, “renewable” and “sustainable” should only be used to refer to practices of energy use, rather than to permanently label a source of energy. Energy from biomass is not renewable if we consume more biomass than we can produce each year. Burning fossil fuels is sustainable if we do it on a small enough scale.

These subtle distinctions can make it hard to fact-check any claims of sustainability. Luckily, there are tools we can use to analyze how our energy practices mesh with various complex systems. Life-cycle assessment is useful for quantifying the material and energy flows involved in a process, and resilience analysis can help predict the impact that a disturbance will have on an ecosystem. These tools are not perfect, but they are a good starting point as we look for a path forward that can actually be sustained.

Emissions from cement:

Our most ubiquitous construction material is also a stubborn source of greenhouse gas

When we think CO2, we usually think energy use, e.g. burning oil, coal and natural gas. However, there are quite a few ways that we add carbon to the atmosphere in the course of our daily lives besides simply burning fossil fuels. Non-energy sources were responsible for 16% of total US greenhouse gas emissions in 2012, according to the EPA.

Chart by Anna Goldstein. Data from EPA.
Chart by Anna Goldstein, data from EPA, “Inventory of US Greenhouse Gas Emissions and Sinks: 1990–2012”

These non-energy emission sources include deforestation, methane from landfills, and the production of cement, steel, or fertilizer. That last category is known as “process-related” emissions, because the CO2 comes from the actual production of a material, rather than the combustion of fuel to produce heat or electricity.

The importance of non-energy emissions is widely overlooked. For example, two engineers from Google wrote a piece last fall for the IEEE. They describe their hope for disruptive technology in electricity generation. And then they say this:

“Similarly, we need competitive energy sources to power industrial facilities, such as fertilizer plants and cement manufacturers. A cement company simply won’t try some new technology to heat its kilns unless it’s going to save money and boost profits.”

This implies that the greatest climate impact from manufacturing of cement comes from direct fossil fuel consumption, which is simply wrong. It doesn’t matter how renewable our energy supply is—the current method of cement production will still emit carbon dioxide, because CO2 is a product of the chemical process itself.

A brief chemistry lesson

To make cement, you start by mining limestone (calcium carbonate). The limestone is heated in a furnace to produce lime (calcium oxide). The other product of this chemical reaction is CO2, which is released from the furnace into the atmosphere.

CaCO3 → CaO + CO2

The lime is combined with other minerals and heated further to make “clinker” (mostly calcium silicate). Clinker is then ground up with other minerals to make cement powder.

Photo by Oussama zafri
Photo by Oussama zafri

When cement is mixed with water, it hardens over time. Chemically, it is now composed of calcium silicate hydrate. If the cement was also mixed with sand and gravel, then the hardened mixture is called concrete.

Energy-intense material

The furnaces that produce lime have to get very hot (1450 °C), and this is accomplished by burning fuel from coal or oil. Obviously, the cement industry has room for improvement in the energy efficiency department. Cement manufacturing in the US contributes a much larger portion of our energy use than the economic output it provides (EIA). The process could be made more environmentally friendly by implementing a method of reaching these high temperatures that is both more efficient and more renewable.

But emissions from the energy used to make cement are still far less than the inherent, process-related emissions. In 2012, cement and lime manufacturing in the US emitted 48 million metric tons of CO2 as a chemical byproduct (EPA), compared to only 15 million metric tons of energy-related emissions (EIA, Annual Energy Outlook 2014).

Photo by MrHighsky
Photo by MrHighsky

Globally speaking, the US cement industry is only a small player, producing just 2% of the total 4.2 billion metric tons produced worldwide in 2014 (estimated values from the USGS Commodity Summary [PDF]). By far, the largest contributor to cement emissions is China, which produced 2.5 billion metric tons in 2014, over half of the global total. Cement-related emissions are estimated to be 5% of global CO2 output.

Two ways out

So we’ve learned that the cement industry has a big carbon footprint, and that the majority of its emissions are intrinsically linked to the material, i.e. can’t be erased by fuel switching or any of the methods we usually think of for tackling climate change. What can we do? Two solutions have been proposed:

  • Carbon capture and sequestration (CCS). Go ahead and release the carbon from the limestone, but then grab it before it leaves the cement plant and store it underground.
  • Low-carbon cement. Some cement manufacturers are trying to use a smaller proportion of clinker in their product, which would mean less carbon released overall. Other companies are hoping to use new types of cement which don’t rely on mining limestone at all.

Neither of these solutions are viable unless there is some incentive for companies to reduce their CO2 output. (For example, CCS is already up and running at offshore processing plants in Norway, where there has been a carbon tax since 1991). Without a price on carbon, it is hard to imagine making a dent in the CO2 emissions that come from making cement. Our appetite for new buildings and bridges shows no sign of slowing, and we’re not going to run out of limestone any time soon.

For a detailed assessment of how to reduce emissions from the cement industry, see the IEA’s 2009 Technology Roadmap: Cement.