Are We Ready for the Next Solar Maximum? No Way, Say Scientists Richard A. Kerr Forecasters testing their skills against the sun's mounting ferocity find themselves still in the early days of space weather prediction. The Big One for space physicists struck on 28 August 1859. The sun had blasted a billion-ton magnetic bubble of protons and the like right at Earth. On smashing into the planet's own magnetic cocoon at several million kilometers per hour, the bubble dumped its energy, pushing the solar-driven aurora from its customary arctic latitudes to overhead of Cuba. This once-in-500years "solar superstorm" crippled telegraph systems for a day or two across the United States and Europe but otherwise was mainly remembered for its dramatic light show. Solar assailant. The sun violently Now that our world has evolved into a so-called ejects magnetically confined cyberelectrosphere of modern electronics, we bubbles of charged particles (left) can hardly hope to fare as well. Today, the that collide with Earth's magnetic charged-particle radiation and electromagnetic field (right), triggering geomagnetic fury of a geomagnetic superstorm would fry storms. satellites, degrade GPS navigation, disrupt radio communications, and trigger continent-wide CREDITS: SOHO (ESA & NASA) blackouts lasting weeks or longer. Even a storm [Larger version of this image] of the century would wreak havoc. That's why space physicists are so anxious to forecast space weather storms accurately. If predicting a hurricane a few days ahead can help people prepare for a terrestrial storm's onslaught, they reason, predicting solar storms should help operators of susceptible systems prepare for an electromagnetic storm. And space weather forecasters' next challenge is coming up soon. The next peak in the 11-year sunspot cycle of solar activity looms in 2012 or 2013. A space weather symposium* last month asked, "Are we ready for Solar Max?" The unanimous answer from participants was "No." "I think we are better off " than a decade ago, says space physicist Daniel Baker of the University of Colorado, Boulder. Back then, researchers were about to launch their first concerted effort to predict space weather the way meteorologists predict terrestrial weather, using computer models. "But we probably aren't as ready as we ought to be," Baker adds. In fact, space forecasters are about where their meteorological colleagues were in the 1960s: making useful but unimpressive forecasts in the short term and lacking computer models able to improve on longer-term predictions by human forecasters. And even the short-term forecasts could go by the boards if the sole but aging early-warning satellite fails before a replacement—as yet unfunded and unplanned—arrives in orbit. High-tech target While researchers have been working to improve their forecasting skills, the world has, if anything, become more susceptible to space weather. "The general trend would be increasing vulnerability to the effects of space storms," says Baker, who chaired a December 2008 workshop report on the subject by the Space Studies Board of the U.S. National Academies. "In general, the systems are becoming softer." The power grid operates more efficiently, he says, but that gives it less margin for error and less capacity to buffer a storm's disruptions. The surging power-line currents induced by a severe solar storm could push the grid into uncharted territory. GPS technology, especially the highest-precision variety, has become commonplace since the last solar maximum—for navigating planes more autonomously, for example—but it comes with new codes and new signals untested by the ionospheric disturbances of a major solar storm. Now-ubiquitous cell phones are no less vulnerable. The academies' report put a huge price tag on a repeat of the 1859 superstorm. Judging by the costs of smaller incidents in recent decades, the panel estimated the economic cost in just the first year after such an extreme storm at $1 trillion to $2 trillion. Full recovery would take 4 to 10 years. Disturbances in the high-altitude ionosphere would disrupt radio communications and GPS for days; surges induced in the power grid could destroy expensive and hard-to-replace transformers. Satellites that survived could cost $100 million apiece to put back into operation. Even a recurrence of the lesser superstorm of May 1921 could lead to blackouts affecting 130 million Americans and half of North America, the panel reported. Status quo If you pity the poor weatherman, then your sympathies for the space weather forecaster should be unbounded. In May 1996, Ernest Hildner—then director of the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration's Space Environment Center in Boulder, Colorado—told an audience that when it comes to predicting space weather, "we don't do very well. We're several decades behind weather forecasters." A big part of the problem, Hildner said, was a dearth of observations. Space weather forecasters used ground-based telescopes to observe sunspots, solar flares, and other signs that the sun was primed to launch solarstorm-inducing disturbances toward Earth. But forecasters had no spacecraft between the sun and Earth to record the passage of threatening solar disturbances, much less whether they were actually going to hit Earth. It was "like predicting Washington, D.C., weather with one weather station in San Francisco," Hildner said. Enter ACE. In 1997, the Advanced Composition Explorer arrived at its station, L1 or Lagrangian point 1, about 1.5 million kilometers sunward of Earth. There it could monitor the high-speed bubbles of protons and other charged particles—called coronal mass ejections (CMEs)—that would slam into the bulbous end of Earth's teardrop-shaped magnetosphere 30 to 60 minutes after passing ACE. The speed and density of a CME reflects its total energy. But ACE also reports the orientation of the magnetic field embedded in a CME, which must be opposite that of Earth's magnetic field if the CME's power is to gain entry to the magnetosphere and drive a storm. ACE made the first short-term storm warnings possible in 1999. Issued only 20 to 60 minutes ahead of a storm's arrival by the Space Weather Prediction Center (SWPC, the former Space Environment Center), the warnings have fallen far short of perfection. One-third of major storms arrive unheralded and almost one-quarter of the warnings turn out to be false alarms, according to SWPC's own analysis. More severe storms are so rare that it's hard to say how much skill forecasters have in predicting them, says Christopher Balch, acting head of SWPC's forecast office. ACE can offer no help with forecasting storms a day ahead. Next-day SWPC forecasts of geomagnetic activity based on observations of the sun have performed better than simply assuming that the current day's conditions would persist into the next day. But next-day forecasts performed no better than if forecasters assumed the next day would be like the average of the previous 30 days. Accurate forecasting 8 hours to 1 day ahead, Baker concludes, "is just not in the cards right now." Playing catch-up To push useful space weather forecasting beyond a few minutes ahead, geophysicists are emulating terrestrial weather forecasters. From the 1950s onward, meteorologists built and refined computer models that ingested a torrent of observations and produced a picture of current weather around the globe. The models could then calculate how the weather would evolve. Over several decades, the models surpassed human forecasters at short-range prediction and pushed useful forecasts out beyond 7 days. Space weather forecasters face extra hurdles. There's still a severe dearth of observations to feed into the models. And rather than evolving within one relatively uniform atmosphere, space weather progresses from the near-vacuum of a million-degree solar corona— where magnetic fields rule—to Earth's relatively dense, cold upper atmosphere and eventually the ground: "sun to mud," as they say. That forces researchers to develop a dozen submodels to make a chain linking the sun to Earth. Space scientists hoping to transfer their research models to the forecasting arena should "expect to have your egos hurt," magnetospheric physicist W. Jeffrey Hughes of Boston University (BU) said at the May meeting of the American Geophysical Union. "It's a painful process." To ease the pain of moving from research modeling to day-to-day forecasting, the American space weather community has developed a loose structure for creating and testing forecast models. Two 8-year-old centers—one at the University of Michigan (UM), Ann Arbor, and the other an 11-institution consortium headed by BU—vie in friendly competition to develop physics-based, sun-to-Earth models. A 10-year-old interagency modeling center at NASA's Goddard Space Flight Center (GSFC) in Greenbelt, Maryland, is evaluating 30 contributed submodels. Finally, a test bed will soon be created at SWPC for debugging candidate submodels before they go operational. Coming out blazing. The sun (masked here to reveal faint features) will be blasting more coronal mass ejections (lower right) Earth's way as the sun enters its next cycle of rising activity. CREDIT: SOHO (ESA & NASA) [Larger version of this image] No model—not even a submodel—has made it through this system to operational status. A submodel called ENLIL is leading the pack, says SWPC Director Thomas Bogdan. ENLIL forecasts how newly formed CMEs will propagate from the sun to ACE. But it won't become operational for 2 to 3 years, around the time of solar max, when it will be run on the same supercomputer National Weather Service forecasters use. Models carrying the disturbance into and through the magnetosphere and the atmosphere and to the ground all trail ENLIL. "We've made very good progress in the last decade," says space physicist Tamas Gombosi, director of the UM modeling center. "But can we forecast? No. We have a long way to go. My hope is that not this solar max but the next, physics-based forecasting" will be a reality. In the meantime, scientists are keeping their fingers crossed for ACE. At 12 years old, it has entered satellite old age. It and the 14-year-old SOHO satellite that images CMEs near the sun "can fail any time, no one knows," notes Michael Hesse, director of the modeling center at GSFC. Although enough time remains to build and launch a backup for ACE's monitoring system, none has been proposed, much less funded.