In the old days, I never trusted the weather
forecast. I’d only check to pooh-pooh how poorly they would do. Today, I’m
amazed at how accurate forecasts can be, down to my local area. The story of
how weather forecasting improved as it became a complex gargantuan endeavor is
detailed in Andrew Blum’s The Weather Machine. Published in 2019, the book is aimed at non-experts who
might be interested in how the weather wizards do what they do.
Did you know that before the World Wide Web there
was the World Weather Watch (WWW)? Formed in 1963 at the instigation of an
American, Harry Wexler, and a Russian, Viktor Bugaev, in the midst of the Cold
War, it proposed three interlocking global systems for weather observations,
data processing, and telecommunications. The core idea: “open and equal access
to weather information, for operational and experimental use.”
Weather knows no borders. But measuring the weather
has broad implications spanning politics, national security and global
technologies. Blum astutely describes the tensions: “The only caveat written
into the charter was that the WWW be used for peaceful purposes only. The UN
proper might have been overwhelmed by the festering tensions of a world divided
between East and West, but the weather diplomats were insistent on the
borderless atmosphere. This was bold of them, given the technology on which
they relied. Weather satellites were so expensive that they could be justified
only on national security grounds. Mostly this limitation was technological:
The innovation they required overlapped significantly with both
intercontinental missiles and spy satellites. But it was also political: The
jingoistic appeal of satellites was also a function of how they overflew the
whole earth, without regard for the borders below – overturning the historical
understanding of sovereignty and territory.”
In the book’s epilogue, Blum describes efforts by
the UN’s World Meteorological Office
(WMO) in tackling climate change and its global effects especially on poorer
countries. The tension between public good versus private enterprise has
invaded the world of weather data collection and analysis. Global cooperation
is facing increasing challenges with the rise of jingoistic world leaders and
demagogues with a “me first” attitude. We are seeing this starkly in the current
global pandemic involving WHO, a UN sister organization of WMO. The coronavirus
knows no borders either, but yet politics, national security, public good,
private choice, all come into play.
Three things jumped out at me while reading The Weather Machine. I will spend a
brief paragraph on each.
(1) One chapter titled “Euro” takes the reader
inside the workings of the European Centre for Medium-Range Weather Forecasts
(ECMWF), which has the current best weather forecasting models and simulations.
The scientists, the culture, the competitiveness, the collaboration, are
fascinating aspects into the human-side of the weather enterprise, fast being
taken over by computers as they crunch more data in ever more sophisticated ways.
This chapter is an extended vignette among many others where Blum personally visits
with the meteorologists to learn the history and inner workings of the weather
business. It’s an interesting look behind the curtain to see how things work!
(2) I resonated with the discussion of Wexler’s
theory that both the macroscopic and microscopic in weather observation are
equally important – “a bigger picture at a higher resolution”. An accessible
example might be the evolution of TVs, driven by the desire of consumers to
have larger screens with yet finer resolution. I study the chemical origins of
life, and we face a similar issue. On the one hand, a global bird’s eye view is
important to get a handle on how life may have started, but the nitty-gritty
details are also equally important. We’ll need both in increasing measure to
make headway on the problem. While my research focus is on the microscopic, I
ensure that my reading diet consists regularly of macroscopic views. This will
be crucial for research to advance in the field.
(3) Blum makes another very astute observation when
he discusses one aspect of how models and simulations work in climate change,
but has broader implications to other types of simulations. “The glory of good
data assimilation is that it allows for the model to compensate for places
where observations are sparse. It becomes a bridge between the areas that are
well observed and the areas that aren’t. The surprising result of that
discrepancy between model space and real space is that the model, you might
say, is more detailed than reality – or reality, at least as it is observed.”
This is exactly what happens as we develop models for the origin of life. The
data is sparse indeed. As a quantum chemist, I’m threading my way through the
complexity but examining the in-between things that are difficult to observe
experimentally.
I enjoyed The
Weather Machine. I wasn’t expecting to entertain thoughts about
origin-of-life simulation/modeling while reading about the weather. It’s hard
to forecast when one thought will lead to another!
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