At DMI we’re currently recruiting for student helpers to work in the National centre for climate research (NCKF) as a part time study job.
(Note that this is a special category of internship type job for students in receipt of a student grant in Denmark only and therefore has limited hours).
It’s a very exciting project, funded by the European Space Agency and in collaboration with the Horizon Europe project PolarRES.
The successful student will be using new satellite datasets to evaluate the performance of new state of the art climate models over the Greenland and Antarctic ice sheets. As you can probably imagine, we’re looking for a student with some experience of coding, in e.g. python and an interest in climate and ice sheet modelling.
The job posting is in Danish (machine translation works, try DeepL). It’s not actually required to speak Danish, however note bold text above!
I was going to blog about this cool new paper that my colleagues at DMI have produced, but John Kennedy has as always done such a good job I will just point you over there…
Wondering whether a warm bias in the Arctic in ERA5 affects our estimates of global temperature change.
Hands-up who is looking for a new and very cool job in ice sheet and climate modelling and developing new machine learning tools?
REMINDER: 4 days left to apply for this PhD position with me at DMI looking at Antarctic Ice Sheet mass budget processes and developing new Machine Learning models and processes.
UPDATE 2: The PhD position on Antarctica is now live here. Deadline for Applications 18th February!
UPDATE: It’s not technically a PRECISE job, but if you’re a student in Copenhagen and are looking for a part-time study job (Note that this is a specific limited hours job-type for students in higher education in Dnmark) , DMI have got 2 positions open right now, at least one of which will be dedicated to very related work – namely working out how well climate and ice sheet models work when compared with satellite data. It’s part of a European Space Agency funded project that I and my ace colleague Shuting Yang, PI on the new TipESM project, are running. Apply. Apply. Apply…
This is a quick post to announce that our recruitment drive is now open. We’re split across three institutes. We are two in Copenhagen, ourselves at DMI and the Niels Bohr Institute at the University of Copenhagen, and then the University of Northumbria in Newcastle, UK.
The PI at the Niels Bohr Institute is the supremely talented Professor Christine Hvidberg, aided by material scientist and head of the institute, Joachim Mathiesen. I am leading for DMI, and the Northumbria work is led by Professor Hilmar Gudmundsson. We are also very fortunate to have the talents of Aslak Grindsted, Helle Schmidt, Nicolas Rathmann and Nicolaj Hansen already on board.
The project is already very cohesive between institutes, we’ve been working together for some time already and know each other well.
We have a good budget for travel and exchanges between groups, workshops, symposia, summer schools and the like, but perhaps more importantly, all the positions are focused at the very cutting edge (apologies for the cliche) of climate and ice sheet modelling. We are developing not just existing models and new ways to parameterise physical processes, but we also want to focus on machine learning to incorporate new processes, speed-up the production of projections for sea level rise, not forgetting an active interface with the primary stakeholders who will need to use the outcomes of the project to prepare society for the coming changes.
There’s also a healthy fieldwork component (particularly in Greenland, I don’t rule out Antarctica either), and if you’re that way inclined, some ice core isotope work too. So, if you’re looking for a new direction, feel free to give me a shout. I’m happy to talk further.
Links to all the openings, will be updated as they come out, these are currently open and have deadlines at the end of January:
The first piece gives an overview of the Foundation itself. Among other nuggets, I learnt they own 77% of shares in Novo Nordisk, which effectively insulates the pharmaceutical company from hostile takeovers.
The second is a piece on the FT Person of the Year: Lars Fruergaard Jørgensen, their CEO.
I’m sharing then both here but each link can only be opened 3 times. If and when I work out the internet archive, I will see if I can update them.
As a TL;DR, and for those not really into this kind of thing, Novo Nordisk have long been large suppliers of insulin for diabetes patients. However, some canny investment and a lot of hard work has resulted in the development of 2 similar drugs, Ozempic and Wegovy, that not only fight diabetes but also lead to significant weight loss, with associated health benefits like reductions in heart attacks. These are, to some extent the modern equivalent of the philosopher’s stone and Novo Nordisk is now, by market capitalisation at least, Europe’s most valuable company…
The huge size of Novo Nordisk could be a problem for Denmark – our Nokia moment perhaps. And the outsize influence the foundation has on science in Denmark has not gone unnoticed either.
On the whole though, I think it’s a positive, especially as the areas they will fund are also under expansion.
Using a commercial company to fund a foundation has a pretty long tradition here in Denmark with most of our biggest companies including Carlsberg, Rockwool, Mærsk and Velux all funding research (and probably other companies too).
So, that’s a quick link to some of the reading I’ve been catching up on over the Christmas and new year’s break. I hope you’re all having a nice break (for those of you on holiday), too!
Another very high quality blogpost from John Kennedy with his usual mix of insight and wit.
This one struck me as especially interesting as I’m also starting to investigate deep learning for regional climate and surface mass balance models. Lots of bear traps for the unwary clearly, but also genuine promise.
Read on and of course, follow!
A preprint has appeared on infilling of global temperature data using “deep learning”. On their tests, it performs better than the Kadow et al. method. That’s quite interesting and new methods for filling the gaps in HadCRUT are always great to see. What’s more exciting, potentially, is that they used the same method to infill […]
UPDATE THE MORNING AFTER (21/10/2023): water levels are now falling rapidly to normal and the worst of the gales are past, so it’s time for the clean-up and to take stock of what worked and where it went wrong. It’s quite clear that we had a hundred year storm flood event in many regions, though the official body that determines this has not yet announced it. Their judgement is important as it will trigger emergency financial help with the cost of the clean-up.
In most places the dikes, sandbags and barriers mostly worked to keep water out, but in a few places they could not deal with the water and temporary dikes (filled pvc tubes of water km long in some cases) actually burst under the pressure, emergency sluice gates and pumps could also not withstand the pressure in one or two places.
Trains and ferries were delayed or cancelled and a large ship broke free from the quayside at Frederikshavn and is still to be shepherded back into place.
Public broadcaster DR has a good overview of the worst affected places here.
Water levels reached well over 2m in multiple places around the Danish coast and in some places, water measurements actually failed during the storm..
In other places, measurements show clearly that the waters are pretty rapidly declining. So. A foretaste of the future perhaps? We will expect to see more of these “100 year flood” events happening, not because we will have more storms necessarily but because of the background sea level rising. It has already risen 20cm since 1900, 10cm of that was since 1991, the last few years global mean sea level has risen around 4 – 4.5 mm per year. The smart thing to do is to learn from this flood to prepare better for the next one.
But we as a society also to assess how we handle it when a “hundred year” flood happens every other year…
-Fin-
Like much of northern Europe we have been battening down the hatches, almost literally, against storm Babet in Denmark this week. DMI have issued a rare red weather warning for southern Denmark, including the area I often go kayaking in.
Weather warning issued by DMI 20th October 2023 There are three levels, blue signifies the lowest, yellow is medium and the highest is red, which is rather rarely issued. The boxed text applies to the red zome around southern Denmark and states it relates to a water level of between 1.4 and 1.8m above the usual.
I should probably start by saying that this storm is not caused by climate change, though of course in a warming atmosphere, it is likely to have been intensified by it, and the higher the sea level rises on average, the more destructive a storm surge becomes, and the more frequent the return period!
Neither are storm surges unknown in Denmark -there is a whole interesting history to be written there, not least because the great storm of 1872 brought a huge storm surge to eastern Denmark and probably led directly to the founding of my employer, the Danish Meterological Institute. My brilliant DMI colleague Martin Stendel persuasively argues that the current storm surge event is very similar to the 1872 event in fact, suggesting that maybe we have learnt something in the last 150 years…
However, back to today: the peak water is expected tonight, and the reason why storm surges affect southern and eastern Denmark differently to western Denmark is pretty clear in the prognosis shown below for water height (top produced by my brilliant colleagues in the storm surge forecasting section naturally) and winds (bottom, produced by my other brilliant colleagues in numerical weather prediction):
Basically, the strong westerly winds associated with the storm pushed a large amount of water from the North Sea through the Kattegat and past the Danish islands into the Baltic Sea over the last few days. Imagine the Baltic is a bath tub, if you push the water one way it will then flow back again when you stop pushing. Which is exactly what it is now doing, but now, it is also pushed by strong winds from the east as shown in the forecast shown above. These water is being driven even higher against the coasts of the southern and eastern danish islands.
These kind of storm surges are sometimes known as silent storm surges by my colleagues in the forecasting department because they often occur after the full fury of the storm has passed. I wrote about one tangentially in 2017. This time, adding to the chaos, are those gale force easterly winds, forecast to be 20 – 23 m/s, or gale force 9 on the Beaufort Scale if you prefer old money, which will certainly bring big waves that are even more problematic to deal with that a slowly rising sea, AND torrential rain. So while the charts on dmi.dk which allow us to follow the rising seas (see below for a screengrab of a tide gauge in an area I know fairly well from the sea side), water companies, coastal defences and municipalities also need to prepare for large amounts of rain, that rivers and streams will struggle to evacuate.
Water height forecast for Køge a town in Eastern Sjælland not far from Copenhagen. The yellow line indicates the 20 year return period for this height. Blue line shows measurements and dashed black lines show the forecast from the DMI ocean model. You can find more observations here.
In Køge the local utilities company is asking people to avoid running washing machines, dishwashers and to avoid flushing toilets over night where possible to avoid overwhelming sewage works when the storm and the rain is at the maximum.
This brings me to the main lessons that I think we can learn from this weather (perhaps super-charged by climate) event.
Firstly, it’s the value of preparedness, and learning from past events. There will certainly be damage from this event, thanks to previous events, we have a system of dykes and other defence measures in place to minimse that damage and we know where the biggest impacts are likely to be.
Secondly, the miracle, or quiet revolution if you will, of weather and storm forecasting means we can prepare for these events days before they happen, allowing the deployment of temporary barrages, evacuations and the stopping of electricity and other services before they become a problem.
This is even more important for the 3rd lesson, that weather emergencies rarely happen alone – it’s the compound nature of these events that makes them challenging – not just rising seas but also winds and heavy rain. And local conditions matter – water levels in western Denmark are frequently higher, the region is much more tidally influenced than the eastern Danish waters. This is basically another way of saying that risk is about hazard and vulnerability.
Finally, there are the behavioural measures that mean people can mitigate the worst impacts by changing how they behave when disaster strikes. Of course, this stuff doesn’t happen by itself. It requires the slightly dull but worthy services to be in place, for different agencies to communicate with each other and for a bit of financial head room so far-sighted agencies can invest in measures “just in case”. We are fortunate indeed that municipalities have a legal obligation to prepare for climate change and that local utilities are mostly locally owned on a cooporative like basis – rather than having to be profit-making enterprises for large shareholders..
This piece is already too long, but there is one more aspect to consider. The harbour at Hesnæe Havn has just recorded a 100 year event, that is a storm surge like this would be expected to occur once ever hundred years, in this case the water is now 188cm. The previous record of 170cm was set in 2017. We need to prepare for rising seas and the economic costs they will bring. The sea will slowly eat away at Denmark’s coasts, but the frequency of storm surges is going to change – 20cm of sea level rise can turn a 100 year return event into a 20 year return event and a 20 year return event into an ever year event.
Screenshot of the observations of sea level from Hesnæs
We need to start having the conversation NOW about how we’re going to handle that disruption to our coastlines and towns.
Following the invasion of Ukraine, Arctic exceptionalism is no longer. The region is reproducing deep divisions between Russia and the West in lower latitudes.
I’ve been asked before, often frequently in fact*, about how depressing it must be to be a climate scientist. And I usually waffle something about how, my job is very interesting and that there’s always hope out there somewhere. Like many people working in the climate space, I’m aware of the multiplicity of research out there suggesting that hope is essential for action, and so that’s what I try to emphasise.
And it is not inaccurate in fact, my job really is fascinating! And very often I get buried in learning something new and often surprising that is incredibly rewarding. I’m also surrounded by thoughtful, creative and incredibly smart and supportive colleagues. It’s a stimulating environment (both metaphorically and literally) and I’m learning new stuff all the time. It can sometimes be surprisingly fun. Occasionally, I’m even fortunate enough to go to Greenland.
Flying a UAV to measure icebergs in Greenland this year: Fieldwork is often uncomfortable, tedious and boring, but sometimes it can be surprisingly fun. Especially when learning new stuff. And the results of this research are consequential when it comes to sea level rise adaptation.
I’m sure that working in an emergency department or as a war photographer or social worker in a deprived community is considerably tougher mentally than how I have it..
On the other hand, Kimberley Miner’s piece resonated. Especially this year, where there have just been *so many* extreme events – including some that have a direct bearing on my own work. It has been exhausting keeping on top of what’s going on – and trying to communicate the impacts of that often feels like a moral duty as much as a part of my job. But it’s not always easy to cross that boundary. I rarely talk about my work in a social context (certainly if not with other scientists), it’s not exactly conducive to a party atmosphere. But I know police officers, social workers, soldiers and medics who are the same, I do not think climate scientists are alone in this respect.
I think she is also correct to point out that long working hours, stress, competition for resources and simple exhaustion don’t help. Given the academic environment, many of us work too much and don’t take the time to rest and recuperate. (Yes, I’m also writing this on a Sunday morning, where I’m also going through emails, editing comments on a paper and preparing for a new student to start next week…). It’s hard to keep perspective and emotions under control under those circumstances.
So what about the solutions?
Well, again I’d echo the original piece. Find the time and places that give you rest .
I jealously guard the time each week when I go out in my kayak on the Øresund, a sport I’ve enjoyed since my teens acquired a new urgency in preventing burn-out (particularly during the COVID times). It’s also often the time I get my best ideas and can work through issues that are bothering me to find the right way forward.
Paddlingon the Øresund, the wind turbines and the Copenhill facility are a reminder that we have solutions for the climate crisis. Even if it is not going as fast as it should…
And then, to continue a theme of posts this summer, it’s also about focusing on what can I do to feel empowered again. And I think this is also correct:
“After decades of working to convince the public that climate change is real, … we need to work on solutions…. The current generation of climate scientists needs to move on from education and advocacy to providing solutions for mitigation, adaptation and resilience. The best treatment for climate grief, .. is knowing you’ve made a contribution to reducing emissions or building resilience.”
But it’s important to remember too that many of us became climate scientists because we found it deeply interesting to work to understand the earth’s processes. Even if science has an even better understanding now, there is still much motivation in taking that deep dive.
At home, our own family lifestyle is in constant improvement to reduce our impact. The usual stuff: car free, vegetarian towards vegan lifestyle, train rather than plane as much as possible. This autumn, I’m adding a new wildflower patch to my garden to encourage the insects and pollinators even more. Individual actions won’t save the world or prevent the climate crisis alone, but they can help us to feel more in control and motivated.
Il faut cultiver notre jardin.
Voltaire
And a new update pointing at an interesting piece about how to incorporate this into an educational context with “critical hope”, which is sort of what I’m talking about here too.
This is where the notion of “critical hope” emerges as a compelling concept to explore.
Critical hope embodies an educational paradigm rooted in the art of envisioning and living an alternative narrative to the status quo.
This paradigm is fortified by a comprehensive scrutiny of our current predicament – urging learners and educators to not only understand the challenges we face but also to actively participate in reshaping our collective future.
I like this framing, but I do think we also have to remember that personal accountability and individual change is not going to solve the climate crisis. For that we need governaments and municipalities as well as business on board and, crucially, leading.
*There’s a whole other conversation we could have about how it’s very often women researchers who are asked about their feelings. Though I would also point out that for example, my colleague at GEUS Jason Box has also been open about this in this piece.
Climate adaptation will also most likely (going by previous history), be unevenly spread and probably not focussed on those feeling the biggest impacts, but those most able to pay for it.
This is something I’ve been pondering for a while, and I’m not really sure how to grasp it, but perhaps more and better work with the social scientists is necessary?
I was struck yesterday by this related snippet from the IPCC AR6 WGII report, posted by David Ho (and I gather courtesy Eric Rostrom), pointing out that heatwave impacts will be unevenly distributed between high and low income people.
At the same time, I also read an interesting piece in the Danish newspaper this weekend suggesting that heatwave exposure is a new marker of class, even in Europe. With the working class toiling in fields, roads, kitchens and on building sites, while the higher educated white collar professionals both able to take advantage of air conditioning and to afford time off in cooler places. This is not a new argument. But it is yet another argument for unions and robust government regulation to try to limit heatwave morbidity and mortality where this is possible. Trades unions may not be able to solve all problems, but they can definitely help when it comes to working conditions!
On a similar note, but outside Europe, the Economist has an unexpectedly excellent piece on how meteorology can help to mitigate weather and climate driven disasters . The whole piece is worth a read as it very much aligns with developments I can see at DMI. They point out for example the great possibilities offered by AI methods in weather forecasting, and how they can be applied to climate models (something I hope to start working on this year), as well as the dangers that AI could be used to undermine the robust national infrastructure that machine learning models are in fact built on.
However, the most important point is that so often, the main challenge is getting extreme weather warnings and other important information out to people affected.
“24 hours’ notice of a destructive weather event could cut damage by 30%, and that a $800m investment in early-warning systems for developing countries could prevent annual losses of $3bn-16bn.”
No breakthroughs are required to put this right, just some modest investment, detailed planning, focused discussion and enough political determination to overcome the inevitable institutional barriers. It is not an effort in the Promethean tradition of MANIAC’s [sic – an early pioneering weather supercomputer] begetters; it will neither set the world on fire nor model the ways in which it is already smouldering. But it should save thousands of lives and millions of livelihoods.
And this is probably generally true of the way we should think about climate change adaptation in the near and short term: how to leverage the best possible information to help make decisions and nudge behaviour to remove people from harm.
Sterna Paradisaea 