Environmental physics in the undergraduate physics curriculum

Earlier this week, the U.K.'s Physics World featured an excellent op-ed by Peter Hughes about environmental physics education.  He noted the importance of the topic, its practical value, and its incredibly wide disciplinary scope.  His definition, for example, is as follows.

Environmental physics is defined as the response of living organisms to their environment within the framework of the physics principles and processes. It examines the interactions within and between the biosphere, the hydrosphere, the cryosphere, the lithosphere, the geosphere and the atmosphere. Stretching from geophysics, meteorology and climate change to renewable energy and remote sensing, it also covers soils and vegetation, the urban and built environment, and the survival of humans and animals in extreme environments. 

He writes mainly from the perspective of the British university system.  One of his conclusions is "I believe a module on environmental physics should be a component of every undergraduate degree as a minimum, ideally having the same weight as quantum or statistical physics or optics."

While the thought is commendable, let's consider some reasons why it might not fly very far in the United States.

First, at many universities there already exist a robust academic ecosystem in the Earth and environmental sciences, with departments spanning soil physics in the school of agriculture, to atmospheric and oceanic sciences, geosciences, hydrology, civil and environmental engineering, and so on.  I live near a university where most of these disciplines have their own departments.  A physics student interested in this topic would be well advised to pick one of these disciplines as a minor or double major.  I personally find the multidiscplinary aspect of these fields to be quite exciting, but the key is to get out of the physics department and work directly with people who are well trained and active in one or more of these fields.

This leads to my second concern, which is that most physics faculty in the United States are ill equipped to teach or do research in any of these fields, with the possible exception of energy-related technologies.  I claim that within academia, environmental physics is primarily carried out by non-physicists (unless geophysicists are included - however, mostly they are found outside academic physics departments). Let's take a basic subject like fluid mechanics, which is essential for meteorology, climatology, and physical oceanography.  Most physicists have never taken a full class in this subject, and would hardly be qualified to teach one, given the outrageous things they teach about fluids in introductory physics classes.  A crowning example of this is the still often taught "explanation" of aerodynamic lift using Bernoulli's equation.  Granted, some physicists do work with fluid mechanics on a daily basis - plasma physicists, some astrophysicists, some condensed matter physicists, for example - but their focus is not necessarily on the aspects of fluids (like rotating frames of reference) relevant to environmental issues.

Third, it is difficult for me to imagine what, from this incredibly wide field of Earth and environmental physics, could be stuffed into a single undergraduate class.  It would end up being highly dependent on the individual professor teaching it.  I don't know if the Brits have managed to create a standardized curriculum for environmental physics.  

I see there are a few U.S. universities that involve their physics departments in environmental physics, but this is still rare here.  Kudos to them.  For the rest, the fastest way to get a program up and running is to partner with the other departments at the university that have been doing environmental physics from their birth.  In the longer run, physics departments would have to start hiring faculty explicitly in environmental physics.  It could take a decade or so to build a strong program, and not all departments would be well positioned to do so, especially given the hostile funding situation for academia currently prevalent in this country.

While I don't foresee environmental physics being on part with quantum physics, statistical physics, and optics, perhaps eventually it could be on par with solid state physics, astrophysics, or other elective physics courses in the undergraduate program.  However it would take a level of effort and commitment that may not be available in this time of shrinking enrollments and disappearing funding.

 

More Earth Science

The June issue of Physics Today featured an interesting article by Gayen and Klocker, "Deep Convection Drives Oceanic Overturning", pointing to the inadequacy of the classical Rayleigh-Benard model of ocean convection.  This reinforces my questioning of the sincerity of those who study small aspect ratio thermal convection, when they make claims that their research is somehow relevant to real convection in planetary or stellar environments.

This month's Eos has a really nice summary of the flaws of the Colorado River Compact, by Ge et al.  Although I don't live in the Colorado River catchment, I am not far away, and this is a case study of the inevitably ugly collision of science and politics.

Speaking of which, this week Nature has a news article by Jeff Tollefson on a whistle-blower at the U.S. Geological Survey.  Unfortunately, any government bureau is necessarily politically accountable, and this leads to unavoidable clashes betweeen scientific "experts" and political authorities.  Formal whistleblower protections codified in federal law have little or no actual value in the real world. though federal employees are forced to take annual trainings on them.  It is a colossal deceit.

An Antarctic expedition

I would also like to strongly recommend a delightful article by a journalist (Sofia Moutinho) who joined a scientific expedition to Antarctica, described in the June issue of Eos.  As someone who does not routinely do field work, this piece was an intriguing glimpse at the intense tempo of operations, and extreme conditions, for such an expedition.

The water watchdog

DTLR supports the views of Prof. Marc Edwards, expressed in interviews with the Chronicle of Higher Education (with Steve Kolowich, here) and Science Magazine's Working Life (with Rachel Bernstein, here), regarding the mis-aligned incentives for academic scientists, and other topics.  He is one of the experts worked to "uncover and address the elevated lead levels in drinking water in Flint, Michigan" (as Bernstein wrote).

A Review of Abrahm Lustgarten's "Run to Failure"

On April 20, 2010, the Deepwater Horizon oil drilling platform was completing the task of drilling a pipe into BP's Macondo well in the Gulf of Mexico.  The pipe experienced a blowout, and the blowout preventer failed, resulting in an explosion and eventual sinking of the platform.  Eleven workers were killed, and seventeen were seriously injured.  The rupture of the pipe resulted in a massive oil spill event that lasted 86 days.

The disaster was eminently preventable.  Investigation of its causes has focused on a number of technical and engineering issues; however the larger context was BP's corporate culture.  Understanding that culture requires a deeper study of BP's checkered history of operations management and industrial safety.  The book Run to Failure, by Abrahm Lustgarten (2012), provides just that.  Written in conjunction with the Frontline documentary, The Spill, it provides an in-depth examination of BP's history in North America, beginning in 1989 when John Browne was named head of worldwide exploration and production.  Browne would later become BP's chief executive, and on his watch there were major disasters at two of BP's legacy assets:  its Texas City refinery and its operations on Alaska's north slope, site of its Prudhoe Bay oil fields, as well as an extensive pipeline network.  These legacy assets were considered sources of revenue to be milked as much as possible, but they were not opportunities for growth, and thus infrastructure investments were minimized.

After the prologue, which describes the Deepwater Horizon accident and introduces the book, the next fourteen chapters are dedicated to events prior to that accident.  We observe a corporate culture where site managers were frequently rotated, while being pressured to produce financial results.  This produced a short term mentality, perpetual cost cutting, and an avoidance of investing in infrastructure maintenance, even where safety and the environment were at risk.  Safety management focued on the less expensive "slips and trips" rather than the vastly more expensive process safety.  Workers who raised concerns were ignored, and whistleblowers were blacklisted.  An attitude of "run to failure" pervaded at BP's legacy assets.  However, even BP's preferred areas for investment, such as the Gulf of Mexico, provided an example of corner-cutting in the rush to start making money.  The near sinking of BP's Thunder Horse platform during Hurricane Dennis in 2005 was caused by the mistakenly backward installation of several check valves in the platform's pontoons.

BP's poor safety record is compared unfavorably with those of other major oil companies, particularly Exxon, which seems to have taken to heart the lessons of the notorious Exxon Valdez oil spill.  The rate of spills and other process accidents for BP was usually several times higher than that of its competitors.

The last two chapters, and the epilogue, return to the Macondo well and the Deepwater Horizon accident.  The exposition of events reveals a series of poor decisions as well as equipment failures that all point to a culture of corner cutting in the rush to get results.  It provides a case study of engineering and business decision analysis and ethics.  The book ends with evidence that BP hasn't really changed its corporate culture, and implies that the company's next disaster will occur on Alaska's north slope.  A post from earlier this year in the Columbia Journalism Review, by Alexis Sobel Fitts, shows that BP is even now aggressively trying to influence public perception of the Deepwater Horizon disaster.

One issue that arises is the role of federal and state government regulators.  The author discusses this issue, including a number of agencies, though the primary emphasis is on the Environmental Protection Agency.  This is perhaps due to his access to very candid sources from that agency.  There is relatively little discussion of the US Department of Interior's Minerals Management Service (MMS); fortunately you can read more about the role of this obscure agency in a May, 2010, Rolling Stone article by Tim Dickinson.  I wish that Lustgarten had incorporated more discussion of other regulators, including Dickinson's findings.

Run to Failure has been reviewed in a number of scientific journals such as Nature (Mascarelli, 2012).  The most useful reviews in my view are those by Peter Dykstra at Enivonmental Health News (here), and Matthew T. Huber (2013) in Contemporary Sociology.  I strongly recommend this book for those interested in engineering and business ethics, corporate culture, and the energy industry.

References

Matthew T. Huber, 2013:  Review of Lustgarten (2012).  Contemporary Sociology, 42:  400-401.

Abrahm Lustgarten, 2012:   Run to Failure:  BP and the Making of the Deepwater Horizon Disaster (W. W. Norton, New York).

Amanda Mascarelli, 2012:  Plumbing the depths.  Nature, 483:  154-155.