Showing posts with label Methane. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Methane. Show all posts

Monday, March 5, 2018

PART 3:KILLER IN OUR MIDST:METHANE, METHANE HYDRATES, AND GLOBAL CLIMATE



Permian Period. Texas, about 280 million years ago. In a small ox-bow lake, Orthacanthus, a large shark, lurks in shallow water to attack Eryops, a tetrapod related to frogs and salamanders. The enigmatic lepospondyls consist of the terrestrial microsaur Pantylus crawling on a log and the boomerang-skulled Diplocaulus swimming below. The aquatic anthracosaur Cricotus, a large, crocodile-like predator on the right, is related to the more terrestrial Diadectes seen in the far left background.
Painting by Robert J. Barker, 1996. 
© American Museum of Natural History.


KILLER IN OUR MIDST
By Dan Dorritie



METHANE, METHANE HYDRATES, 
AND GLOBAL CLIMATE
In the 1980's, a few scientists began to think that methane hydrates, possibly acting together with methane released from permafrost and the bog and swamp wetlands of the far north, could have a significant effect on global climate. First among them was probably Gordon MacDonald, who in 1983 suggested that methane hydrates "may play a significant role in modulating the Earth's climate." In examining the origins of natural gas, he noted that the warming and release of such hydrate could enhance warming, both as a greenhouse gas in itself, and through its oxidation product, carbon dioxide.

 Methane as Greenhouse Gas
Greenhouse gases are gases which can warm the atmosphere, and, thereby, the oceans and the surface of the land. They are referred to as greenhouse gases because they operate in a fashion similar to the way a greenhouse works. In a greenhouse (sometimes now referred to as a glasshouse), solar radiation enters through the glass, and a portion of it is absorbed and re-radiated as infrared radiation, that is, as heat. But the glass walls of the greenhouse, which easily admitted the solar radiation, are not transparent to the heat. So the heat is largely trapped within the greenhouse, raising its temperature.

As is readily obvious, the atmosphere is also transparent to much solar radiation. When this radiation strikes the surface of the Earth (land or water), some of it is absorbed, and some is re-radiated as infrared radiation. The most common gases in the atmosphere, nitrogen and oxygen, do not absorb infrared radiation, but other atmospheric gases, such as water vapor, carbon dioxide, and methane, do. These gases thereby trap the infrared radiation, or heat. Because they help retain heat in the atmosphere, making the planet warmer than it would otherwise be, they are called greenhouse gases.

Greenhouse gases are not necessarily bad; on the contrary, they are essential to the habitability of the Earth. Without them, the surface of the planet would be much colder, and the oceans frozen. Under such conditions, it is unlikely that life could ever have evolved. Billions of years ago, early in Earth's history, the sun was much dimmer than it is today (scientists refer to it as the "faint young sun"). Greenhouse gases, particularly methane, probably played a major role in warming the planet and keeping it warm.

Today, carbon dioxide is the major greenhouse gas. Its presence in the atmosphere helps keep most surface water liquid, and maintains the temperature range in which living things can survive and thrive. This is despite the fact that the percentage of carbon dioxide in the air is under 1%. But as we continue our use of carbon fuels (including wood and peat), and especially those carbon fuels known as fossil fuels (petroleum, natural gas, and coal), we are and will be warming the planet well beyond the temperature range that has prevailed for many millions of years.

Methane is a much more powerful greenhouse gas than carbon dioxide. In fact, despite its far lower presence in the atmosphere, the contribution of methane to today's global warming is about one-third of that of carbon dioxide. That's quite a lot of heat for a gas which is rarely mentioned in public discussions of global warming. But because carbon dioxide has such a strong influence on Earth's surface temperature, and is most closely tied to global temperatures over long periods of geologic time, carbon dioxide is used as the "reference gas" by which the effects of all other greenhouse gases are measured. The relative effects are complicated, however, by the varying lengths of time (called the residence time) that different gases remain in the atmosphere. Carbon dioxide has a relatively long residence time; methane, by contrast, has a very short one. If the same quantities of carbon dioxide and methane are released into the atmosphere, therefore, in ten years most of the carbon dioxide will still be there, but most of the methane will be gone.

But while it remains in the atmosphere, methane can deliver quite a thermal punch. Compared to an equivalent amount of carbon dioxide over a twenty year period, methane packs a punch over sixty times greater. Over a hundred year period (the usual period for such comparisons), methane is more than twenty times more powerful. Over five hundred years, methane's greenhouse effect drops to less than ten times that of an equivalent quantities of carbon dioxide. Thus, in examining the possible impact of methane on Earth's temperature, it is important to keep these differences (called time horizons) in mind. If released suddenly, in large quantities, methane can deliver a stunning jolt to the prevailing temperatures of our planet.

Some years later, Euan Nisbet independently came to the same conclusion. In 1989, he reviewed the northern (northern, to Nisbet, a Canadian, was north of about 50°N, about the same latitude as the Canadian-US border, he bemusedly relates) sources of atmospheric methane. Among other sources including hydrate, he observed that the return of beavers after the last ice age greatly enhanced the output of methane from northern waterways, because their dams trapped the organic material from which methanogens produced "swamp gas" (Nisbet, 1989). At this time, Nisbet was clearly (and concernedly) thinking about the climatic consequences of the increasing release of methane in post-glacial times. In short order, however, he began to ruminate about whether methane release could actually have contributed to the end of the ice age itself.

What is known as the Ice Age is actually a series of ice ages (more than a dozen), each lasting about 120,000 to 140,000 years, going back some 1.6 to 1.8 million years, and perhaps as much as 2.4 million years (Balco, 2005). Each major ice age cycle brought ice sheets two or more kilometers (well over a mile) thick across vast stretches of Asia, Europe, and North America. (Current ice sheets on Greenland and Antarctica are more than 3 and 4 kilometers thick at their thickest, respectively.) Prior to the Ice Age, climate had generally been warmer, and no great ice sheets had moved across large land masses and down temperate zone mountainsides, except in the far distant past. Although we presently lack such great continental ice sheets except in Greenland and Antarctica, it is widely accepted that we are still in that period of generally cooler global climate known as the Ice Age.

Geologically, this period is called the Quaternary, which is divided into the Pleistocene (from about 1.8 to 1.6 million years to 10,000 years ago), and the Holocene, from 10,000 to the present. Although the Holocene is not very different climatically from the preceding Pleistocene -- being just another of several inter-glacial episodes during a long period of planetary cold -- we, of course, consider it special because human beings now dominate the world. But we do have a considerable impact on climate, so it is possible that the ice episode just completed may be the last the planet witnesses for some considerable time.

Our knowledge of the Ice Age has increased enormously since the Swiss naturalist Louis Agassiz announced in 1837 that numerous geological enigmas -- U-shaped valleys (see below), great masses of scraped and polished rock, rocks apparently transported considerable distances from their sources, the large debris piles of gravel and rock we now refer to as moraines -- could be explained if vast ice sheets had once moved across the landscape. We have come to understand that comings and goings of the individual ice ages may be due, to a significant extent, to minute changes in the energy output of the sun (called the solar constant), and to changes in the tilt of Earth's axis, Earth's top-like movement around that axis (called precession), and to variations in Earth's orbit around the sun.



Tenaya Creek valley in Yosemite National Park
This U-shaped valley was carved by a glacier.
Its U-shape reveals the glacier's shape.
From: http://jesse.usra.edu/articles/iceagemodule/iceagemodule-07.html
(Photo by Dr. Karen Kleinspehn)

Perhaps most importantly, we have come to recognize that ice ages are not so much the product of a colder climate -- though that too is necessary -- but of shifting patterns of winds, ocean currents, and precipitation. Extreme cold does not provide the snow that accumulates into sheets of ice: it can be too cold to snow. (Antarctica, because of its low precipitation, is considered a desert.) Only warmer, wetter weather permits such snowfalls. It is a cliche among geologists that ice ages occur when the summer's warmth fails to melt the previous winter's snow, and snow thus accumulates from year to year.

As scientists have come to better understand ice ages, they have been surprised, even shocked, by the rapidity with which warming or cooling takes place. The beginning of the end of the most recent ice age started some 14,000 to 12,000 years ago, but that ending was punctuated by a short but abrupt cooling interval referred to as the Younger Dryas. Evidence from Greenland indicates that the sudden cold of the Younger Dryas ended with an average temperature rise of 7°C (more than 12°F) over just 50 years, most of which occurred in just 20 years (Dansgaard, 1989). Similarly, the end of the most recent ice age itself took place in less than 1000, and perhaps as few as several hundred, years (Nisbet, 1990). Indeed, in places as far apart as southwestern Europe and the South China Sea, sea surface temperatures at the end of the ice age may have increased by up to 4°C (7°F) each century for several centuries (Bard, 1989; Broecker, 1988).

Numerous hypotheses have been offered as to the reason for these sudden and substantial warming events. Agassiz himself originally attributed the warmth to the revival of life after the long cold. Others proposed that the release of carbon dioxide from the ocean could have triggered the ice age-ending warmth. In 1990, Nisbet challenged the carbon dioxide proposal. Carbon dioxide, he argued, would have been released too slowly from a gradually warming ocean to account for the abrupt temperature shifts being discovered. Moreover, the release of carbon dioxide could not explain the rapid increase of methane found in Greenland ice cores.

Instead, Nisbet suggested, methane from hydrate in permafrost and possibly the ocean was a better candidate for the abrupt warming agent. It could be released more rapidly; it is a much more powerful greenhouse gas than carbon dioxide (so less is needed to produce the same temperature increase); the sudden shifts in temperature could be explained by its short lifespan (under 10 years) in the atmosphere. Methane release could explain the rise of methane found in the Greenland ice cores, as well as an apparent increase in the carbon available in the biosphere.

The origin of this methane, moreover, could clearly be traced to hydrate. This is because the radioactive carbon isotope (Carbon-14, or ^14C) can be used to determine the age of carbon compounds which have formed in the recent past (up to about 20 to 25,000 years ago). As the methane in the Greenland ice cores contained little ^14C, the post-glacial increase of methane was due to the release of geologically old hydrate (Oeschger, 1987), not to the recent rejuvenation of northern wetlands (Nisbet, 1990).

Noting that the quantity of methane hydrate may have been much greater at the end of the most recent glacial episode than it is now, Nisbet offered the following scenario for methane release. Initially triggered by an earthquake (freeing gas trapped beneath the ice) or a depressurizing drop in sea level, methane would have rapidly warmed the atmosphere (in contrast to carbon dioxide, which would have warmed things much more slowly). Rising sea level (the consequence both of glacial melting and a warmer ocean) then could have allowed relatively warm water (0°C, or 32°F) into low-lying permafrost and under the frigid glacial ice, permitting the release of additional quantities of methane. Eventually the return of forests and wetlands to circumpolar regions would have provided another source of methane. Both this methane and its oxidation product carbon dioxide would have contributed to still further atmospheric warming (Nisbet, 1990).

Interestingly, Nisbet noted that the process of hydrate methane release would be self-terminating. This is because "the depth of warming depends on the square root of the time since the surface warmed." In other words, it takes four times longer to warm hydrate that is buried twice as deep within the sediments. Thus longer and longer periods would be required for the release of deeper methane until the process grinds to a halt (Nisbet, 1990). It should be pointed out, however, that this assumes that temperature does not vary with depth, but, of course, it does, being higher with increasing depth (about 20°C increase per kilometer depth -- or about 58°F per mile; MacDonald, 1983). (Nisbet, 1990, showed this in Figure 4a.) A pulse of heat from surface warming, therefore, would liberate methane at depth more rapidly and for a longer period than Nisbet indicated. Nonetheless, Nisbet's observation that hydrate methane release must eventually be self-limiting is an important one.

While Nisbet recognized that methane hydrate exists in marine as well as onshore environments, he did not invoke marine hydrate in his end of the ice age scenario. In fact, oceanic methane hydrates are mentioned only in passing, though Nisbet noted (Figure 3, Nisbet, 1990) that they are found in continental margins around the world, and can be released as sea level -- and therefore pressure -- falls. Because deglaciation raised sea level in most parts of the ocean (except where glacial rebound occurred), and thereby increased the pressure on hydrates, Nisbet may not have thought about oceanic methane hydrate release in his deglaciation scenario. But the warming that produced deglaciation also warmed the oceans, and this warming could have allowed for at least some marine hydrate dissociation.

MacDonald's and Nisbet's papers were the first to suggest that methane hydrates were not just a permafrost and seafloor curiosity and a potential future source of natural gas, but might also have major environmental consequences. Until they proposed otherwise, hydrates were presumed to be stable, frozen in their peaty and muddy beds in distant corners of the planet. They were not presumed to be available to exchange much (if any) of their carbon with the other carbon repositories (geologically referred to as reservoirs) of the Earth: the atmosphere, the ocean, soils and rock, living and dead organic matter. For years (even today!) compilations and diagrams of "exchangeable" carbon often simply omit the methane hydrate reservoir.

But some scientists did think that methane (though not specifically hydrate methane) could have a serious impact on Earth's climate. In attempting to explain why circumpolar environments of the Early Eocene (roughly from 55 to 50 million years ago) seemed considerably warmer and quite hospitable to mammals, reptiles and even deciduous forests, Lisa Sloan and her colleagues proposed that the cause could have been methane from peatlands. During the Early Eocene, peatlands may have covered more than three times the area they cover today. A slight warming and drying of these lands could have released substantial quantities of methane. Such a release, reasoned Sloan and colleagues, could have produced polar clouds that would have trapped outgoing long-wave radiation and therefore the heat needed to explain the then warmer environment (Sloan, 1992).

In 1995 a paper by Gerald Dickens and three co-authors proposed that the cause of Eocene warming was more likely methane from oceanic hydrate, not methane from peatlands. Dickens hypothesized that there was a major release of methane from hydrate at about 55 million years ago, a release that produced the significant negative carbon isotopic excursion noted in the rocks and fossils from that time. With proper scientific restraint, Dickens stated that the "fate of CH¸4 in oceanic hydrates must be considered in developing models of the climatic and paleoceanographic regimes [overall conditions] that operated [at the time]" (Dickens, 1995).

Fifty-five million years ago marked the event known as the Late Paleocene Thermal Maximum, or L.P.T.M (Zachos, 1993). This event is also referred to as the Latest Paleocene Thermal Maximum, because of uncertainty as to whether it occurred at the exact end of the Paleocene, or merely close to the end. But the terms are frequently used interchangeably, even in the same scientific paper (for example, Dickens, 2000). (The terminology issue has continued. More recently, this event has been referred to as the Paleocene-Eocene Thermal Maximum, or P.E.T.M: Zachos, 2003, and as the initial Eocene Thermal Maximum, or I.E.T.M: Dickens, 2004, and Svensen, 2004. Despite the changing terminology, the event referred to is the same. Here the original name, Late Paleocene Thermal Maximum, or L.P.T.M, will be used.)

There is also some serious dispute as to when the L.P.T.M (and therefore the end of the Paleocene) actually did take place. Some scientists think it occurred up to five million years earlier than its usually accepted date of about 55 million years ago, which would make it contemporaneous with the first pulse of volcanism in the North Atlantic Igneous Province (Jolley, 2002). Others strongly contest such an early date (Wei, 2003; Thomas, 2003; Srivastava, 2003), in one case objecting that this proposed timeline would cause the Paleocene epoch to be unacceptably shortened from about 10 million to only 3.5 million years (Aubry, 2003).

In any case, the Paleocene was the first temporal subdivision (epoch) of the Tertiary Period, which followed the end-Cretaceous catastrophe. It lasted about ten million years, and was followed by the Eocene epoch. The "thermal maximum" was a time of exceptional warmth, when global temperatures were several degrees higher than at any time since. The warmth is recorded in carbonate found in several, widely separated locations, thus confirming that the warmth was global in extent. The oxygen isotopes in these carbonates provide evidence of the temperatures of the time. Reading this "oxygen thermometer" is not easy, as a number of factors, such as the salinity of the ocean, can affect the mix of oxygen isotopes. But scientists are aware of these confounding factors, and do include their possible effects in estimating ancient temperatures.

The warming was considerable: as much as 4°C (7.2°F) in the deep ocean, and 8°C (14.4°F) in high-latitude (near polar) surface water (Katz, 1999). Tropical sea surface temperatures rose by as much as 4 to 5°C (Zachos, 2003). The deep water temperature, initially about 11°C (about 52°F), rose to about 15°C (about 59°F)(Kennett and Stott, 1991; Zachos, 1993; Zachos, 1994; Thomas and Shackleton, 1995). These unusually high temperatures provided the label, "thermal maximum."

In addition to the temperature changes recorded in the oxygen isotopes, there were also considerable changes in carbon isotopes. Among those deep sea foraminifera which lie on the ocean floor (benthic forams), there was a carbon isotope shift of ­2 to ­3. Among those foraminifera which float freely in the ocean (planktonic forams), the shift was ­4 to ­5. And, in carbonate found in fossilized soils (paleosols), the shift was ­4.5 (Dickens, 2000). Although these shifts vary according to their sources, they all confirm a significant major negative change in the carbon isotope ratio.

These shifts (called excursions) indicated that a considerable amount of light carbon (Carbon-12, or ^12C) had been added to the standard mix of carbon isotopes that was available in atmosphere and ocean. To employ a simple analogy, it was as if additional water had been added to lemonade, making the lemonade less yellow and less tasty. Somehow the standard carbon isotope mix had become diluted, over an extremely short period of time, in less than ten thousand years, a geological instant.

Dickens and his fellow scientists looked at a number of proposed explanations for the carbon isotope excursion. One was that the excursion represented the transfer of isotopically light carbon from the organic reservoir (in organisms, soils, and dissolved in the ocean) to the inorganic reservoir of atmosphere (primarily CO¸2) and ocean (mostly what is known as dissolved inorganic carbon, D.I.C for short). They found that there was simply not enough light carbon (at about ­25 per mil depletion) in the organic reservoir to account for the isotopic excursion.

In fact, to produce a ­3 per mil carbon isotope shift in today's world (and presumably the Paleocene world was little different), a quantity greater than all the carbon in today's exchangeable organic reservoir would have to transferred to ocean and atmosphere in a geological instant (here, less than 10,000 years). This is impossible, and led Dickens to the conclusion that "the geological record does not support such biomass destruction across the LPTM" (Dickens, 1995).

Dickens and his co-authors' calculations were simple, based upon scientific estimates of the amounts of carbon present in the various "reservoirs," as well as the isotopic composition of this carbon, all figures readily available to those interested in such matters. Indeed, they showed that several hypotheses about the L.P.T.M carbon isotope excursion could be easily dismissed by the use of "simple mass balance equations."

The phrase, in fact, became a kind of refrain in their paper. Using these calculations, they also dismissed the suggestion that the light carbon could have resulted from the volcanic (both terrestrial and marine) outgassing of carbon dioxide (at about ­7 per mil depletion). For such outgassing to have provided enough light carbon, the "rate would [have had to have been] unprecedented in the geological record."

There was only one exchangeable carbon reservoir with sufficient light carbon to explain the observed isotopic excursion, according to their simple mass balance equations: methane from seafloor hydrate. The methane hydrate reservoir may have been twice to three times as great as the organic (organisms, soils, dissolved in the ocean) reservoir, and its carbon was more than twice as light (about ­60, as opposed to ­25). In estimating how much hydrate methane might have been released, Dickens and his co-authors relied on a number of assumptions.

Having no way to determine the amount of methane hydrate that may have been present in the Paleocene continental margins (they did not include permafrost hydrates in their calculations), they assumed that the amount is not greatly different from that of the present day. (For today's methane hydrate carbon, they employ an estimate of from 7.5 to 15 x 10^15 kilograms, or 7500 to 15,000 billion metric tons. A metric ton weighs 10% more than an imperial ton, so they are roughly equivalent.) This assumption may not be correct: Paleocene bottom water was estimated as at about 11°C (about 52°F), which is significantly warmer than today's bottom water temperature of about 0°C (32°F). Warmer bottom water temperatures -- and therefore warmer sediment temperatures -- would have meant less hydrate in the continental margins. Still, there should have been lots of methane hydrate present and available for release at the end of the Paleocene.

Based on a bottom water temperature increase of 4°C, Dickens and his fellow scientists calculated that methane hydrate in continental slopes at about 920 to 1460 meters depth would have been destabilized and released. Their calculations indicated that if methane hydrate were evenly distributed within continental margins wherever temperature and pressure conditions were favorable (another assumption), the amount of hydrate destabilized would have amounted to some 14% of total world hydrate, or between 1.4 to 2.8 x 10^15 kilograms (1400 to 2800 billion metric tons) of methane. The authors did state, however, that this estimate is most likely too low.

Nonetheless, this ballpark figure compares favorably with the amount of light carbon that would have had to have been added to the total ocean/air/land carbon reservoir to result in a ­2 to ­3 change. (1.6 to 2.0 x 10^15 kilograms -- 1600 to 2000 billion metric tons -- of methane would have been needed for a ­2 change; 2.5 to 3.1 x 10^15 kilograms -- 2500 to 3100 billion metric tons -- of methane for a ­3 per mil change.) Over a possible 10,000 year release period, this would amount to about 1.6 to 3.1 x 10^11 kilograms -- 160 to 310 million metric tons -- of methane per year. This is a rate that is -- astonishingly! -- less than that at which human beings are currently pumping methane into the atmosphere via our rice agriculture and domesticated grazing animals.


Methane has quite limited solubility in water, and because it is also a very light gas (lighter than air), it quickly makes its way up through the water column and into the atmosphere. Much methane does get consumed by methanotrophs but -- especially during the rapid release postulated by Dickens for the Paleocene -- much also can make it into the ocean and air. On its way through the ocean, and in the atmosphere itself, methane is rapidly (within ten years) oxidized to carbon dioxide and water. The carbon dioxide combines with water to form carbonic acid, a mild acid, leading to somewhat more acidic conditions in the oceans, in rain, and consequently on land. (The chemical reaction is: CO¸2 + H¸2O Æ H¸2CO¸3.) The extra acid should promote the dissolution of carbonate. In the oceans, therefore, the release of significant quantities of methane should be reflected in deep-sea carbonate dissolution. As Dickens noted, "it is evident that carbonate dissolution indeed occurred during the LPTM," citing two studies of such dissolution as confirmation (Thomas and Shackleton, 1995; Lu and Keller, 1993).

Methane oxidation 
Methane readily combines with what is called the hydroxyl ion (OH^­). An ion is an electrically charged particle. Sometimes the term simply refers to an atom with a charge; at others, to a molecule, which is composed of more than one atom. Ions are typically indicated by the electrical charges they possess. Thus, a hydrogen ion has a positive charge, and is indicated as H^+, whereas an oxygen ion has two negative charges, and is represented as O^=. When a hydrogen ion combines with an oxygen ion, the hydrogen's positive charge is neutralized by one of oxygen's negative charges, producing the hydroxyl ion, OH^­.


The hydroxyl ion is produced by the breakup of a water molecule:

  H¸2O      Æ               H^+           +        OH^­
(water) (yields) (hydrogen ion) + (hydroxyl ion),
or by the splitting of a peroxide molecule, H¸2O¸2.



Methane is destroyed by chemical combining with hydroxyl ions. The chemical equation for this reaction is:

  
 CH¸4       +         OH^­           Æ            CH¸3^­   +   H¸2O 
(methane) + (hydroxyl ion) (yields) (methyl ion) + (water)

The carbon from the methylion, after several intermediate steps, becomes the carbon in the end product carbon dioxide. One of these intermediate steps occurs after the the methyl ion (CH¸3^­) is oxidized to carbon monoxide (CO):
       OH^­         +              CO                   Æ               CO¸2            +           H^+ 
(hydroxyl ion) + (carbon monoxide) (yields) (carbon dioxide) + (hydrogen ion)

Note that this reaction, like the previous one, consumes a hydroxyl ion.



The overall, simplified equation (deleting the intermediate steps) is:

    CH¸4      +    2O¸2         Æ               CO¸2           +  2H¸2O
(methane) + (oxygen) (yields) (carbon dioxide) + (water)


This chemical process is called oxidation not because oxygen is involved, but rather because the oxygen picks up ("accepts") negative charges (specifically, electrons) from the methane. (In other oxidation reactions, other substances, such as sulfur, may pick up negative charges. Thus, no oxygen need be involved. Sorry, scientific terminology is sometimes inexcusably confusing!)


The main, and almost exclusive, process by which methane is destroyed in the atmosphere is via oxidation by hydroxyl. Consequently, as the oxidation of methane proceeds, hydroxyl ions are consumed. As atmospheric methane increases, it therefore slowly depletes the amount of hydroxyl available, because the steady rate of hydroxyl production is outpaced by the methane increase. This has important consequences for atmospheric chemistry. With fewer and fewer hydroxyl ions in the atmosphere, less and less methane can be consumed. That is, in fact, what is currently happening. Additional methane in the atmosphere, of course, leads to even greater consumption of hydroxyl ions. 


The concentrations of other atmospheric gases are also affected. Hydroxyl ions, as noted above, also remove carbon monoxide, which may be from either natural sources (largely the oxidation of methane) or industrial sources (which are increasing the amount of carbon monoxide). The ions also react with several other gases, both from natural and industrial sources. Among them is hydrogen sulfide (H¸2S), which can chemically combine with hydroxyl to form sulfuric acid (H¸2SO¸4). 

Fewer hydroxyl ions, therefore, may mean a more acidic atmosphere. And sulfuric acid is not the only acid that may increase as a result of lower hydroxyl ion availability. More methane may result in more chemical reactions with chlorine, producing hydrogen chloride, that is, hydrochloric acid (HCl). Increasing methane concentrations in the atmosphere, consequently, can produce significant changes in atmospheric chemistry, some of which can be projected, others which are as yet unknown, and still others which can impact the level of ozone, our protection against deadly ultraviolet light (Sze, 1977).
An additional effect of methane release into the atmosphere should be enhanced global warming. Methane itself is a significantly more powerful greenhouse gas than carbon dioxide, and though it oxidizes rapidly, it oxidizes to carbon dioxide. Thus both the methane and its successor gas, carbon dioxide, contribute to the warming of the planet, including the oceans. Dickens recognized that this warming could result in further hydrate dissociation, and additional methane release, in a positive feedback cycle, and wondered how the cycle could stop short of what he considers an implausible outcome: the complete depletion of the oceanic hydrate reservoir. (Nisbet, 1990, may have already have provided at least part of the answer: warming takes longer with sediment depth.)

Another issue Dickens examined is how the warming that produced the Latest Paleocene Thermal Maximum began. He found a triggering mechanism for the warming suggested by Thomas and Shackleton (1995) to be "particularly appealing: a rapid emission of CO¸2 associated with a brief interval of explosive volcanism in the North Atlantic," which warmed the planet.

The volcanism Dickens found appealing took place about 55 million years ago. At that time the configuration of the continents was beginning to assume its modern form. The Atlantic had opened but was considerably smaller than it is today; India was approaching its collision with Asia (which uplifted the Himalayas); Australia had detached from Antarctica. In the far north of the North Atlantic, Greenland had started to separate from Norway. This separation, as with the opening of the Atlantic itself, came as a consequence of the formation of the Mid-Atlantic Ridge, which over tens of millions of years was creating an ocean by laying down ocean floor between Africa and Europe on one side and the Americas on the other.


The North Atlantic Igneous Province (NAIP) 
at two stages of its development. 
The upper map shows the N.A.I.P at an earlier, older stage; the lower, about 700,000 years later. The dark areas are the N.A.I.P lava flows themselves: by 55.8 million years ago (Ma), those in the western Greenland region (upper left) became inactive. Light gray indicates land areas; white areas are sea. The areas with horizontal stripes have been filled by coastal sedimentation. Numbered dots indicate the locations of boreholes. The N.A.I.P was formed as part of the opening of the North Atlantic Ocean, beginning about 62 million years ago. Its remnants now exist in eastern Greenland and Iceland, and form part of the floor of the North Atlantic. (Knox, 1998)


The opening of the far northern portion of the Atlantic was accompanied by the major volcanic eruptions that continue today, in modified form, in Iceland and on the adjacent ocean floor. These eruptions have produced what is known as the North Atlantic Igneous Province (N.A.I.P), which today extends about 2000 kilometers (about 1240 miles) from eastern Canada to the (Danish) Faeroe Islands, to the north of Great Britain. The major eruptions took place in two phases, the first about 62 million years ago (Saunders, 1997).

But it was the second phase of major igneous activity in this area, beginning about 56 million years ago, that possibly triggered the release of methane hydrates. And while Dickens found the notion of global warming by volcanic carbon dioxide appealing, both that general warming and the direct heating of seafloor sediments by volcanically warmed ocean currents may have each played a role.

Because this part of the North Atlantic was just opening, its connection with the Arctic Ocean, was quite constricted. Nonetheless, this far northern sea was probably also quite cold. The eruption of basalt on the seafloor would have changed that, warming the North Atlantic, then the South Atlantic, and possibly warming and altering thermohaline circulation worldwide (for a discussion of thermohaline circulation, see APPENDIX 3: THERMOHALINE CIRCULATION). The erupted lava's were unusually hot, and they were extruded at a very high rate (Saunders, 1997). They should have been quite sufficient to trigger the temperature increase in ocean bottom water observed at the Latest Paleocene Thermal Maximum. As bottom water temperature increased, methane hydrate would also have been destabilized and released.

These is an alternative (or perhaps additional) mechanism for the release of seafloor methane (Svensen, 2004). This proposal also relies on North Atlantic volcanism as a trigger. As magma rises through sedimentary strata, it frequently pries apart and flows into (intrudes) weaknesses between the sedimentary layers. These magmatic intrusions are called sills: they are thin, flat, and originally horizontal, kind of distortedly-shaped igneous rock pancakes sandwiched between the sedimentary strata.

Obviously, the flow of molten rock directly into ocean floor sediments provides an excellent mechanism for the heating and release of the methane therein. It is also an excellent mechanism for rapid heating, because sills must be emplaced quickly to avoid cooling and solidification. Ocean drilling has revealed such sills deep off the coast of Norway, where some are as much as hundreds of kilometers (over 120 miles) long -- and which must have been emplaced within decades! (according to Svensen, 2004).

Three-dimensional seismic imaging has provided further insight into the nature of the Norwegian sills (Cartwright and Hansen, 2006). The imaging reveals a still structure not unlike a random stack of variously-sized plates, bowls and saucers, each in partial contact with the dish below. For the Norwegian sills, the contact points apparently represent places where magma flooded upward, creating the next sill in the stack. This suggests that "sills can form... efficient conduits for...magma transport." The new study's authors, however, indicate that sill formation could have taken on the order of 1000 to 10,000 years, a considerably longer length of time than suggested by Svensen, 2004, but nonetheless a very short period of time by geological standards (Cartwright and Hansen, 2006). (Moreover, the authors note that similar sill emplacement could have characterized the approximately 183-million-year-old Karoo-Ferrar igneous province as well as that of the 250-million-year-old Siberian Traps [Cartwright and Hansen, 2006]. And indeed, there is evidence of sill intrusion in the thick salt deposits ["evaporites," produced by the evaporation of ancient bodies of water], in the Siberian Tunguska Basin [Svensen, 2006].)

The magma of the Norwegian sills intruded organic-rich mudstones of Cretaceous (144 to 65 million years ago) and Paleocene (65 to 55 million years ago) age. Sonar imaging shows that fluids -- presumably carrying methane -- escaped from these layers, breaking through and distorting the overlying strata. These conduits terminate in hundreds of mounds, craters, and other seep structures -- exactly at the boundary between the Paleocene sediments and those of the overlying Eocene. Clearly then, the fluids emanating from the area of the magmatic sills rose to what was the floor of the ocean at the end of the Paleocene, thus establishing with certainty the time of fluid release. Subsequent sedimentation, during the Eocene and later, has covered and hidden the fluid release structures, which now have been almost magically revealed via the sonar images (Svensen, 2004).

The discoverers of the buried end-Paleocene sills, however, do not believe that the methane that was released by the magmatic heat was of biological origin (Therefore, the methane would not have come from hydrate.) Rather, they indicate that the methane was thermogenic: that it was produced by the heating of the hydrocarbons in the organic-rich mudstones into which the magma intruded (Svensen, 2004, and supported by Storey, 2007). As noted by Dickens (2004), this seems improbable. Because thermogenic methane is far less depleted in the lighter isotope of carbon (^12C, or Carbon-12), it would take almost twice as much thermogenic methane to produce the observed end-Paleocene carbon isotope excursion as methane from hydrate, which is largely biogenic (Dickens, 2004). (The difference in the isotopic composition between the two types of methane is what is used to distinguish them, though Milkov and Dzou, 2007, indicate that "the very first stages" of thermogenic methane release may be much more depleted. But it seems very unlikely that such a level of depletion would have been characteristic of an extended thermogenic methane release.)

Although there was probably some thermogenic methane that would have been produced and released by the intrusion of the magmatic sills, biogenic methane both from the sediments and from hydrate likely contributed to the end-Paleocene methane release, as Dickens has pointed out (2004). Indeed, it would hardly seem possible for it to have been otherwise: the rising, warm fluids mobilized from the sills would have heated and dissociated the overlying hydrate.
(Even those scientists [mentioned previously] who do not accept the 55 million year ago date for the L.P.T.M believe that North Atlantic volcanism may have been the trigger for the initiation of warming, and the release of seafloor methane. Instead of pointing to the second major pulse of North Atlantic volcanism [at about 55 million years ago], however, they believe that the trigger lay in the first pulse, perhaps beginning 60.5 to 60 million years ago [Jolley, 2002]. That is the date they therefore employ for the start of the L.P.T.M.)


The North Atlantic Ocean and surrounding continents, about 55 million years ago. 
The map shows the relative positions of the Blake Plateau, the Caribbean Plate, and the North Atlantic Igneous Province (NAIP). The gray areas mark 55 million year ago land masses; the white areas are ocean. Black lines delineate the positions of today's land masses. (Ocean Drilling Stratigraphic Network, an initiative of GEOMAR, Research Center for Marine Geosciences/ Kiel and the Geological Institute of the University Bremen: www.odsn.de/odsn/cgi/make_map.pl)

Other scientists (Bralower, 1997) have offered another volcanism-related suggestion for hydrate methane release. They note that ocean floor drill cores from the Caribbean Plate, south and west of the Blake Plateau area, also register significant negative carbon isotopic excursions -- as much as ­12 per mil in one case and ­3 per mil in another -- from the time of the L.P.T.M. A 10 centimeter (4 inch) deep ocean sediment core section indicates that the excursion reached its maximum in about 6000 years, before a recovery period of several tens of thousands of years.

The cores also record a shift from the ordinary disturbance (bioturbation) of sediments caused by such burrowing creatures as worms, crustaceans, and mollusks to laminated (layered) sediments at the start of the L.P.T.M carbon isotope excursion. Laminated sediments are indicative of low oxygen conditions, because the organisms which ordinarily disturb the sediments have been killed off by the lack of oxygen. This lack of oxygen is presumably due both to warmer water, which holds less oxygen, and to the release of methane, which combines with, and therefore depletes, the oxygen in the water column.

In the sediment cores, exactly at the transition between the underlying bioturbated layers and the overlying laminated sediments is a layer of tephra, volcanic ash. This ash is derived from a major pulse of eruptions along the Caribbean Plate. This eruption would have briefly cooled the tropics, possibly leading to cooler and therefore denser tropical waters that could have temporarily replaced cold northern waters locally on the ocean floor, thereby reordering ocean circulation (at least in the Atlantic) and warming and releasing hydrate methane (Bralower, 1997). The direct heating of ocean bottom water (and methane release) by the Caribbean Plate volcanism may constitute an addition or alternative to this scenario.

Geological support for the Dickens hydrate methane release scenario was quick in coming. It came from a surprising source: ocean drilling off the Atlantic coast of southeastern United States (Florida/South Carolina). There the Ocean Drilling Program (O.D.P), a international scientific program devoted to exploring the oceans and drilling into and obtaining cores (cylindrical samples) from the ocean floor, found fascinating evidence from drilling Site 1051. The cores, from 500 meters (0.3 miles) deep in ocean sediments overlain by 1.5 kilometers (almost a mile) of water, included an unusually thick section from the Latest Paleocene Thermal Maximum (Katz, 1999; Norris and Röhl, 1999). Although this section is now deeply buried in accumulated sediments, at the time of the L.P.T.M, 55 million years ago, it constituted the surface of the seafloor.

The Blake Nose area off the Florida/South Carolina coast. The Blake Nose itself is in the rectangular box. (MacLeod, 2001)

The section, from what is called the Blake Nose, displayed normal oceanic sedimentation on the lower continental slope, then large chunks (clasts) of chalky mud up to about 5 centimeters (2 inches) long. These chunks do not represent normal sedimentation; instead they are debris indicative of a major submarine landslide, or slump. (The word slump is used herein to mean any submarine landslide, though the term is sometimes used by geologists in a more restricted fashion.) Above the mud clasts, much of the carbonate (from foraminifer skeletons) had been dissolved.

The cores provided additional information. They showed that in the latest Paleocene, more than half of the seafloor (benthic) foraminifera became extinct within a period of less than 5000 years. Most (60%) of these forams made their last appearance within the mud clast interval. (This period thus marks what is known as a "Benthic Foraminifera Extinction Event" or B.F.E.E. B.F.E.E's seem to indicate dysoxia or anoxia, that is, conditions of low oxygen or no oxygen.) Within the mud clast interval, faunal diversity plunged (by well over 50%), and organisms which tolerate low oxygen levels are found. Moreover, immediately overlying the mud clast interval was a twenty centimeter (eight inch) thick stratum in which both oxygen and carbon isotope values plummeted. The oxygen isotope drop (measured in foram skeletons) was indicative of an increase in water temperature by over 6°C (Katz, 1999).

The carbon isotope drop was ­3. As Katz and her co-authors (one of whom was Dickens) stated, "Release and oxidation of 1 x 10^18 to 2 x 10^18 g of CH¸4 [1000 to 2000 billion metric tons of methane], and the subsequent propagation of CO¸2 [carbon dioxide] through various carbon reservoirs, is the only known mechanism to explain the sudden, extreme, and global nature of the C.I.E [Carbon Isotope Excursion]" (1999).

The geological information obtained from the cores allowed scientists to piece together what happened here some 55 million years ago. The lower portion of the cores indicated normal seafloor activity. Forams and other seafloor creatures went about their ordinary business, while a thin rain of sedimentary particles accumulated around them. Then there was a great slump, apparently originating some 15 kilometers (9 miles) upslope. The slump presumably was caused by the dissociation of methane hydrate within the sediments, a consequence of increasing oceanic warmth. (Katz and her fellow scientists attributed the warmth itself to long-term global warming, but this warming obviously may have been supplemented by the eruption of the North Atlantic Igneous Province, or from Caribbean volcanoes.)

The hydrate dissociation destabilized the sediments of the continental slope, sending a load of chunky, chalky mud downslope. Warmed and depressurized methane boiled out of the slump, combining with dissolved oxygen in the water column, and thus reducing oxygen availability to aerobic organisms. The increasing acidity of the water promoted the dissolution of carbonate skeletons, including those which still housed foraminifera, driving many to extinction. The slump scenario was likely repeated elsewhere, especially in the North Atlantic, intermittently over the course of several thousand years. (The Blake Nose slump, incidentally, clearly shows that sediment warming by magmatic sill intrusion, mentioned above, was not the only end-Paleocene methane release mechanism.)

The time interval for the methane release, at least on the Blake Nose, is highly constrained. This is because minute variations in the magnetism of the sediments reflect the Earth's orbital and rotational cycles. One of these cycles (the precessional cycle, the top-like movement of the Earth around its axis which can vary in length from about 19,000 to 23,000 years) averages about 21,000 years long, and the changes in planetary magnetism it produces are recorded in the Blake Nose cores. Because the 20 centimeter stratum which overlies the mud clasts and records the carbon and oxygen isotope excursions represents only a quarter to a third of one of these cycles, Katz (1999) estimated that the ocean warming occurred over a period of from 5000 to 7000 years.

A similar, but even shorter, estimate of the duration of the excursion came from Norris and Röhl (1999), who also examined Blake Nose cores. They found that most of the light carbon release took place "catastrophically over a few thousand years or less." Norris and Röhl's repeated emphasis on the abruptness of the light carbon release and its duration of "no more than a few thousand years" suggests that they in fact thought that the release may have occurred in considerably less than a few thousand years -- possibly only a few centuries or less -- but their data did not allow them to define their time interval more tightly.

A still shorter estimate of the duration of L.P.T.M warming came from ocean floor sediments from near Antarctica. Using oxygen isotopes from foraminifera that lay on the seafloor, Kennett and Stott (1991) found that deep sea temperatures jumped about 8°C (from about 10°C to about 18°C, that is, from 18°F to 32°F) in only 2000 years. This stunningly short duration for a major oxygen isotope excursion provides additional support for catastrophic climate warming and possible reordering of global thermohaline circulation, as well as a confirmation of the Benthic Foraminifer Extinction Event (B.F.E.E) at a site many thousands of kilometers (several thousand miles) away from Blake Nose. Like the B.F.E.E off the coast of the southeastern United States, a substantial number of foram species (40%) disappeared forever, the likely consequence of deep sea anoxia.

L.P.T.M recovery took considerably longer than the several thousand year period of hydrate methane release. Three transition species of free-floating (planktonic) forams (the "transition fauna") appear at Blake Nose immediately above the Benthic Foraminifera Extinction Event, and then are gone. Over some 200,000 years, new species of forams appeared. Oxygen and carbon isotope values returned to roughly starting values over a period of about 140,000 years, first rapidly, then more gradually (Norris and Röhl, 1999). The sediments off Antarctica reveal that warm bottom waters persisted for about 100,000 years before cool temperatures returned (Kennett and Stott, 1991).

When Dickens and co-authors (1997) used computers to test and model his proposal, they found a similar duration for the recovery period. Scientists frequently use what are known as models when they cannot directly observe the things they are interested in (because they are too big, as the Universe; too small, as atoms; too fast, as protein folding or the explosion of supernovae; too complex, as global climate change; too long ago, as events in geological, paleontological, or cosmological history; or too far in the future, as the end of the Universe). Models are often limited in the categories and sizes of their inputs, but they can provide quite useful insights nonetheless. In modeling the consequences of the L.P.T.M hydrate methane release, the model here employed a release of a somewhat smaller amount of hydrate methane than Dickens (1995) thought was actually released at the L.P.T.M. (About 8% of estimated global hydrate was used in the computer model, rather than the 14% in the Dickens, 1995, calculation).

The model Dickens and his coworkers (1997) used indicated that the return to roughly initial carbon isotope values should take about 120,000 years, in close agreement with both with the 120,000 year estimated time for Paleocene carbon burial, and the 140,000 year calculated time for present-day carbon burial (Norris and Röhl, 1999).

What may have taken much longer to return to previous values were global temperatures. According to Dickens' (1997) modeling, greenhouse gas warming from the methane release would have been relatively modest, amounting to only an average 2°C increase in global surface temperatures (the actual temperature increase may have been somewhat higher). But the model indicated that cooling would have taken about 2 million years, considerably longer than the isotopic return to initial values. This seeming discrepancy may have its explanation in that the model indicated that most of the cooling took place quickly, and the oxygen isotope record may have reflected that significant early cooling. The remainder of the cooling -- only a part of a degree -- occurred over a protracted period of time.

While isotopic values have little impact on living things (though it may require slightly more of an organism's energy to process heavier rather than lighter isotopes), temperature does matter. This is particularly the case for marine organisms that are attached to or reside on the ocean floor (or which are attached to other organisms which are), or those (planktonic organisms) which freely float on the ocean's currents. Most of these organisms are adapted to life with little temperature change, and they are devastated when temperatures move even slightly -- that is, by a degree or two -- up or down. Elevated (or depressed) temperatures thus can have significant ecological consequences.

Although the global warmth of the time did result in some extinctions, environmental changes also can favor the survival and spread of organisms which are better adapted to the new circumstances. Thus, one surprising consequence of the Latest Paleocene Thermal Maximum was that it apparently allowed a migration of numerous groups of archaic mammals from their origination areas to elsewhere in the northern continents (Asia, North America, and Europe), across northern polar lands, in several waves (Beard and Dawson, 1999).

Early rodents (the lineage of the modern rat, mouse, squirrel, beaver, porcupine, hamster, guinea pig, chinchilla, muskrat, gerbil, and capybara), which may have evolved in North America (or may have migrated there from Asia), may have had the opportunity to migrate back to Asia and to Europe. On their way, they passed the ancestors of today's primates, as well as artiodactyl mammals (animals with an even number of toes: the lineage of the antelope, pig, deer, sheep, goat, giraffe, camel, and cattle) and perissodactyl mammals (animals with an odd number of toes: the lineage of the horse, rhino, and tapir), and creodonts (now extinct carnivorous mammals) moving into North America and thence to Europe from Asia. The last two of these groups -- perissodactyls and creodonts -- likely originated in Asia; artiodactyls may have come from Africa. Similarly, primates may have originated in Africa, moved on to Asia, and from there to North America during the L.P.T.M, but their fossils are few and their movements obscure (Hooker, 1998; Beard and Dawson, 1999).

These mammals were able to move over lands previously impassable because of their frigidity. Interestingly, this migration may have been made possible just partially by general global warming. Additional warming may have been provided by what are known to meteorologists as type II polar stratospheric clouds. These clouds were previously cited to explain Eocene warming generally (see above; Sloan, 1992), but more recently their contribution has been invoked to provide just enough warmth to have kept circumpolar lands from the deep freeze (Peters and Sloan, 2000).

Polar stratospheric clouds. These clouds come in two types, type I containing water ice and either nitric or sulfuric acid, type II being pure water ice. (Photo: Paul A. Newman, NASA.)

Type II polar stratospheric clouds form in the stratosphere (the part of the atmosphere just above the troposphere, the lowest portion of the atmosphere) only during the long polar night, obviously at extremely low temperatures (below about ­83°C, or ­117°F). The atmosphere in polar regions is usually quite dry, and it has been suggested that it was the oxidation of L.P.T.M methane, to carbon dioxide and water, which provided the moisture that allowed these clouds to form (Peters and Sloan, 2000).

Though extremely cold, these clouds would have trapped the heat below them, allowing critical migration routes to remain at temperatures close to freezing even in winter, rather than dropping prohibitively lower. Two of the main routes, one the more familiar Bering Strait land bridge between Asia (eastern Siberia) and North America (Alaska), the other the Davis Strait land bridge from the islands of the Canadian north through southern Greenland and on to Europe (called the Thulean route), may have also been warmed by coastal currents, possibly maintaining average temperatures above freezing year round (Peters and Sloan, 2000).

With a prohibitively wide and deep marine channel then separating Europe from Asia, it seems likely that mammals from Asian homelands migrated first across the Bering Strait land bridge to North America, and from there via the Thulean route into Europe (Beard, 1998; Beard and Dawson, 1999). Mammals which evolved in North America would have been able to migrate either to Asia or Europe. Whatever indigenous mammals Europe may have had were quickly displaced by the newcomers. The original homelands of many mammals, as well as their dispersal routes, however, have been the subject of ongoing discussion among paleontologists, and that discussion has yet to reach consensus conclusions. Nonetheless, the evidence for rapid mammalian dispersal among the northern continents at the time of the L.P.T.M is unequivocal.

The Blake Nose results (Katz, 1999) reveal one major mechanism by which methane is released from hydrate, at least during methane catastrophes: slumping. In addition, the slumping mechanism provides an additional answer (to that provided by Nisbet) to the problem that Dickens considered in his original paper: how hydrate release stops. Though Dickens assumed, for the purpose of his calculations, that methane hydrate is evenly distributed throughout continental margin sediments as long as they meet the necessary temperature and pressure conditions, this is highly unlikely.

Sedimentation itself is a quite uneven process. Close to shore, sediment accumulation generally is high. Rivers that drain high or growing mountains carry off great quantities of sediment. Areas that have recently been glaciated produce lots of sediment because glacial movement grinds rock into rock flour, which becomes available for transport when the glaciers melt. Other factors being equal, those regions that get more rainfall are likely to generate more sediment. Freeze-and-thaw cycles, rock types, and numerous other factors help determine the availability and amount of sediment that may be deposited in adjacent oceans.

Submarine slumping, like sedimentation itself, is a uneven process. Some parts of the continental slope are presumably at or close to threshold conditions for slumping, meaning that a slight disturbance -- a minor earthquake or a small amount of warming or depressurization -- could trigger a methane release. Other portions of the slope are undoubtedly sufficiently stable that their methane could be released only in extreme circumstances. In addition, slumps are constrained by random initial conditions, including the location of continents and oceans, whether the continental slope is part of an active or passive margin, the strength and warmth of thermohaline circulation and local currents, and numerous other factors. Obviously they may involve large or small amounts of sediment, together with large or small amounts of methane hydrate.

Most importantly, slumping is not a continuous process, but one of starts and stops. Most of the time, methane hydrates slumber in their muddy beds. But, on rare occasion, warmth, depressurization, or earthquakes disturb that slumber, and then there is a slump cascade over tens or hundreds or thousands of years, during which there are one or more submarine landslides, each releasing its store of methane. Then slumping stops, and the long hydrate slumber returns.

The Dickens Achievement
Dickens and his fellow scientists provided a realistic scenario as to how hydrate methane could account for the significant negative carbon isotopic change found at the time of the Paleocene-Eocene boundary. Their calculations also showed that there was no other credible scenario that could produce that change. Subsequently, evidence from O.D.P drilling showed that underwater slumping was involved in at least one hydrate release event, and that that event involved deep-sea extinctions and a slow process of recovery.

Additional evidence from both models and actual data from submarine sediments indicated that it takes, at most, just a few thousand years to release a substantial amount of methane into the atmosphere, from ten to twenty thousand years for the carbon isotope excursion to peak, and from 120,000 to 200,000 years for the carbon isotope values to return to their approximate starting points.


The main points of the Dickens "L.P.T.M hydrate dissociation hypothesis" are as follows:

1. Mass balance equations required the release of continental margin methane hydrate.

2. Global warming from volcanic CO¸2 served as the trigger for the methane hydrate release.

3. A major seafloor slump or slump cascade allowed the hydrate methane to be released.

4. Additional global warming was the consequence of the methane release.

5. The methane release and recovery cycle (as indicated by the carbon isotope excursion) took about 160,000 years.


Interestingly, Dickens (1997a) refers to the L.P.T.M hydrate dissociation hypothesis as a "default hypothesis." Dickens seems to have come reluctantly to the recognition of the ability of continental margin methane to significantly alter climate and ecological conditions. Numerous other scientists appear to have subsequently reached the same conclusion. As pointed out by Sherlock Holmes: "When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth" (Conan Doyle, 1890, Ch. 6). The huge carbon reservoir of methane hydrate and the free gas below formerly either was not recognized, or was taken for granted. It was presumed to be static, inert. Dickens showed that it could indeed interact with the biosphere and do so quite dramatically.

to be continued....

Monday, February 19, 2018

PART 2:KILLER IN OUR MIDST:METHANE CATASTROPHES IN EARTH'S PAST...AND NEAR FUTURE?

KILLER IN OUR MIDST

Methane Catastrophes in Earth's 
Past . . . and Near Future?
By Dan Dorritie

METHANE AND METHANE HYDRATES, 
SECTION 1

At such [peaceful] times, under an abated sun; afloat all day upon smooth, slow heaving swells; seated in his boat, light as a birch canoe; and so sociably mixing with the soft waves themselves, that like hearthstone cats they purr against the gunwale; these are the times of dreamy quietude, when beholding the tranquil beauty and brilliancy of the ocean's skin, one forgets the tiger heart that pants beneath it...
Melville, Moby Dick, Chapter CXIII




Lifting the skin of the sea. 
Dali at the age of six, when he thought he was a girl, lifting the skin of the water to see a dog sleeping in the shade of the sea (1950 oil painting by Salvador Dali).     
The ocean and the atmosphere constantly exchange gases and small particles (of things like salt), maintaining a rough equilibrium. The ocean also has a great heat capacity, that is, a great ability to hold heat. As the atmosphere heats up because of global warming, it transfers much of that heat to the ocean. Though the ocean absorbs that heat slowly, it will also (eventually) lose that heat very slowly, insuring that the heat we now inject into the atmosphere via carbon dioxide emissions will be around for a very long time.


In November of the year 2000, the Ocean Selector, a fishing trawler operating in the Pacific off the west coast of Vancouver Island, Canada, hauled up a very unusual catch. Along with the fish it obtained from a seafloor depth of about 800 meters (about half a mile) were numerous chunks of a white, frigid snowball-like substance. There was, in fact, a huge amount of the compacted but lightweight substance: perhaps 1000 kilograms (more than a ton), possibly more than had ever been netted before.



The catch of the Ocean Selector.
(Photo: Spence, 2001)










Most of the fishermen were perplexed about their unexpected catch, but a fisheries observer who happened to be on board suggested it might be something he had never personally seen before, something called methane hydrate, the mysterious "ice that burns" (Spence, 2001).

Methane is a tasteless, odorless, colorless gas. Along with tiny traces of other gases, it is the primary, almost exclusive, constituent of the "natural gas" which fuels many gas stoves and home heaters. Because it is a dangerous gas, potentially asphyxiating, flammable, and explosive, an unpleasant odor (that of methanethiol, or methyl mercaptan, CH¸3SH) is added to domestically used natural gas so that we can detect it by smell. In coal mines, however, methane provides no such warning; hence, the "miners' canary" was once used to give early notice of methane's presence, because canaries are more sensitive to methane than people. In spite of such precautions, many coal miners are nevertheless still lost every year in methane explosions.

Each molecule of methane is composed of four atoms of hydrogen held together by one atom of carbon (the chemical formula is CH¸4). With such a composition (hydrogen and carbon), methane is referred to as a hydrocarbon. Methane is a major component of the atmospheres of the "gas giants" of our solar system, Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus, and Neptune, and probably was a major constituent of the early atmosphere of Earth itself.

But methane is fairly active chemically and readily reacts in the atmosphere, and, to a lesser extent, in seawater, in a series of complex reactions whose end products are carbon dioxide and water. Once Earth's marine photosynthesizing organisms became plentiful in surface waters about two and a half billion years ago, producing a low level of free oxygen in our atmosphere and in the surface layer of the ocean, most free methane would have combined with that oxygen and disappeared. Because of the over 20% abundance of oxygen in our current atmosphere, there is little free methane around, though its quantity is slowly increasing. The presence of free oxygen, however, limits the lifespan of free methane in the atmosphere and most of the ocean to less than ten years.

The primordial methane of Earth's ancient atmosphere having long ago been oxidized, the subsequent atmospheric methane, ancient as well as modern, has been produced thermally or biologically. (The methane produced by these different processes is therefore referred to as thermogenic or biogenic methane.) Methane is produced thermally by the decomposition of organic matter by heat from the interior of the Earth. Most of the planet's methane, however, is probably produced biologically. Organisms called methanogens ("methane-makers") discard methane as a waste product of their metabolic activities, which take place in environments free from, or protected from, oxygen.

Archaea and Methanogens
The most important location for the formation of methane is in the sediments of the ocean floor. Within the sediments, in addition to the lithic (rock) particles, the dead organisms -- mostly microscopic -- which have rained down through the water column or been carried from the land, and various sorts of organic debris, are a multitude of living organisms including burrowing worms and mollusks (at shallow depths), and an awesome array of microorganisms (throughout the sediments: D'Hondt, 2004). Many of these microorganisms belong to the familiar category bacteria, but others are part of a group whose existence was not even suspected just a few decades ago. These microorganisms are Archaea.


Archaea


Archaea is the name of the classification. The word archaea, with the "a" in lower case, is the plural form and refers to a number (two or more) of species or individual organisms within that class. (The term archaeans is also sometimes used to denote the plural form.) The word archaeon is the singular form, and refers to a single species or individual. Similarly, Eubacteria is the classification name; bacteria refers to more than one species or individuals; bacterium refers to a single individual or species. One does not often run across a reference to single individuals ( of either bacteria or archaea), however, so the singular and plural forms typically refer to species. The curious singular and plural forms (archaeon/archaea and bacterium/bacteria) derive from the fact that Greek and Latin words, respectively, are employed.


The term Archaea for these organisms, however, should not be confused with the term used for one of the oldest geologic time periods, the Archean Eon, often shortened simply to the Archean. (In some geologic time scales, the Archean includes the Hadean [Eon], the oldest time period.) Archaea refers to the group of organisms, Archean refers to the time period. Both terms derive from the Greek word 'archeo,' meaning primitive.

It used to be thought that the basic distinction in the living world was between bacteria, which are small, unicellular, and relatively simple (though indeed the simplicity is only relative, all living organisms being quite complex), and larger, often multi-cellular organisms. The bacteria are part of a group called the prokaryotes (in fact, they used to be considered the only members of that group), whose DNA is not enclosed in a nucleus.

All other organisms are eukaryotes, which do enclose their DNA with a nucleus, and which include all the multi-cellular organisms we routinely encounter in daily life, such as plants, fungi, and animals. The eukaryotes also include many creatures we do not encounter daily, organisms of the unicellular variety called protoctists (sometimes referred to as protists, but this term may also refer to any single-celled organism, even those which are not eukaryotes). Eukaryotic cells generally are considerably larger than prokaryotes, and they contain small but distinct organs, referred to as organelles (chloroplasts, which contain chlorophyll, and mitochondria, which provide cell energy, are the most obvious), which prokaryotes lack. (Some bacteria have now been found to contain an organelle also present in single-celled eukaryotes; see Seufferheld, 2003).

Microbiologists Lynn Margulis and Karlene Schwartz, noting the one large prokaryote group, the bacteria, and the four large groups of the eukaryotes proposed that all living things comprised five "kingdoms," the highest level of biological classification. Because the prokaryotes were quite distinct from the eukaryotes, they illustrated their proposal as a human hand, with the bacteria set off as the thumb, and the eukaryote groups as the fingers. Despite considerable variation in size, eukaryotic cells are typically about ten times the linear dimensions of prokaryotic cells, and their volumes are about 1000 times greater.
Eukaryote and prokaryotes, relative sizes. (Diagram from Gross, 1996, p. 134.)


In the '60's and 70's, however, some new organisms were discovered which, though unusual, were relegated to the classification bacteria largely because they were unicellular, small, did not have their DNA bound up in a nucleus, and, most importantly, because there was apparently no other biological category into which they might be fit. These unusual organisms were often found in environmental conditions considered extremely hostile to life, places of quite high temperature, salinity or acidity. Later, these inhospitable habitats would earn their inhabitants the name "extremophiles," that is, lovers of extreme (conditions).

With the development of new analytical methods by molecular biologists, the actual makeup of organisms at the molecular level -- a vastly smaller level than that of the cell -- began to be explored. The determination of the structure of DNA -- the famous double helix -- was one of the first triumphs of these new methods. By the mid 70's, molecular biology had advanced to the point that differences between the molecules of various organisms were being employed to examine the evolutionary relationships between them, just as DNA testing of human beings is today used to determine relations between individuals and groups.

In 1977, biologists using RNA from ribosomes, the protein factories of cells, to examine numerous species of bacteria made a startling discovery: that a few of the bacteria were vastly different, on a molecular level, than the many thought to be their biological cousins. In fact, biologists Carl Woese and George Fox, decided these organisms were so unlike other bacteria that they couldn't really be considered bacteria at all, but had to be assigned their own special classification, first called Archaebacteria, then changed and shortened to Archaea to make clear that they were entirely distinct living things.

The distinctiveness of the Archaea required a major revision in thinking about biological classification. No longer could the highest division of living things be considered the kingdom. Instead, while preserving the classification kingdom for the next lowest subdivisions, a new and higher division was created: the domain. Living things would be divided into three domains: Eubacteria, Archaea, and Eukaryota, the eukaryotes.



The three branches (domains) of life. 
Eubacteria and Archaea are prokaryotes, relatively simple, single-celled organisms. Eukaryotes (Eukaryota) possess complex cells; some are single-celled. All multi-cellular organisms, including animals, plants, and fungi, are eukaryotes. The line lengths are based on studies of the genetic information of the organisms; they indicate how closely the organisms are related. Note how closely animals, plants, and fungi (upper right) are related, and how far removed they are from many other organisms. (Howland, 2000, Figure 2.2, p. 29)

Not having their DNA enclosed in a nucleus, archaea are prokaryotes like bacteria. And there are other similarities: most prokaryotic DNA is found in the form of a single chromosome, a single large unbroken loop, sometimes together with smaller loops called plasmids. By contrast, eukaryotic DNA, enclosed in a nucleus, is divided into many chromosomes, and the chromosomes take the form of short spaghetti-like strands.

The difference is a critical one, one which goes far beyond the apparent shape and number: the short strands of the eukaryotic chromosomes have at their ends many copies of special units of DNA called telomeres, which have been likened to the plastic tips of shoelaces. Each time the cell reproduces, another unit is removed. Eventually, when all the telomere units are gone, the remaining DNA becomes unstable and the cell dies. Consequently eukaryotic cells have limited lifespans, programmed into their DNA from their inception. By contrast, the single loops of prokaryotic DNA, being loops, lack such telomeres, and thus are not programmed for eventual demise. Prokaryotic cells can divide and divide (a process called binary fission) and, in essence, live forever, while most eukaryotic cells, like the organisms of which they are a part, eventually must die. Sexual reproduction, by creating new individuals, is the eukaryotic organisms' hedge against oblivion.

One major difference between archaea and other living things, however, lies in the way they construct their outer cell membranes. Archaea employ ether links between the organic components of their cell membranes. Most other organisms use ester links. Ether links are chemically more stable, and such links may have helped archaea survive in the hostile conditions of early Earth. In addition, while all organisms have chains of fatty acids as essential components of their cell membranes, those chains are usually straight. In archaea they are branched, or "isoprenoid" (Howland, 2000, p. 74-79). Both the ether links and the isoprenoid configuration of the fatty acid chains provide biochemical indicators that archaea are present.

This biochemical evidence turns out to be quite important where other methods for detecting archaea are unsuccessful. Microorganisms generally cannot be identified where they are found, because they are too few and too small to be seen without substantial magnification. Indeed, one archaeal group, the Korarchaeota, has only been detected by its biochemical traces. No korarchaeon has ever been seen. But this is not surprising: microorganisms are notoriously difficult to isolate and identify, and the few that have been are generally those that fare well in laboratory conditions.

Only a tiny percentage (perhaps only 1%) of microorganisms can be cultured, that is, grown in the laboratory in significant numbers, outside of their natural habitats. Since the number of a particular microorganism in a given sample may be quite small, the ability to raise them in significant quantities is extremely important. Thus those microorganisms which cannot be cultured generally escape our attention. To increase the likelihood that particular microorganisms may be cultured and thereby identified, scientists attempt to replicate the precise conditions in which a sample was taken. If the sample were taken from one of the hot pools in Yellowstone National Park, for example, scientists will try to recreate the heat, acidity, dissolved gas and nutrient conditions found in the original pool, both during the transfer process and in the lab.

Nonetheless, the effort is often unsuccessful. A major reason for culture failure, it turns out, is that many microorganisms do not solely depend on the relatively large scale conditions mentioned above: heat, acidity, dissolved gas, and nutrients. Often they depend on very specific "local" conditions, which, in the case of microscopic creatures, can be very local indeed. Furthermore, the congeniality of these local conditions frequently requires close proximity to other particular microorganisms, which help provide the very specific conditions the organism of interest requires to thrive or even survive. It is not surprising, therefore, that recent efforts that include taking slabs of sediment rather than the small samples previously obtained should have allowed richer cultures to be grown.

Ecosystems comprised of different kinds of microorganisms living together are known as consortia. Consortia are a microscopic version of the ecological communities with which we are more familiar, like plant-herbivore-predator communities. Although most relationships between organisms in these consortia are only beginning to be investigated and understood, some organisms clearly provide products which are useful to other consortia members, and, in some cases, there is likely to be the kind of mutual exchange known as symbiosis. (In the case of microorganisms, symbiosis is known by the term syntrophy, literally, "eating together.")

Symbiotic processes are found throughout the natural world. In its broadest sense, symbiosis is much more common than many biology texts indicate. Lichens, for example, are typical textbook symbionts: they represent the simple pairing of an alga and a fungus, an arrangement that allows the lichen to live on the surface of rocks, frequently in quite dry, frigid, or otherwise inhospitable conditions. Surprisingly, however, as many as 20% of fungal species may engage in these partnerships.

Much more important to us is the symbiotic relationship between terrestrial plants and the fungi known as mycorrhizae (literally, "root fungus"). This is a relationship which began perhaps 450-500 million years ago, and was essential for the evolution and spread of plants onto the land. Mycorrhizal fungi are microorganisms which live on the roots of plants and allow plants to take up water and minerals from the soil. Quite recently, fungi have been found to inhabit almost all cells of photosynthetic land plants, in addition to their roots. Without these symbiotic organisms, we wouldn't have most of our food supply.

The digestive systems of cows, sheep, goats, giraffes, antelopes, buffalo, camels, and others -- those animals known as ruminants -- also house symbiotic organisms: methanogens. These methanogens live off the grass or leaves that the ruminants consume, and the ruminants in turn obtain much of their protein from digesting their store of methanogens and other gut microorganisms (Howland, 2000, p. 91). The by-product of this arrangement is methane, of use to neither cow (for example) nor methanogen, but released into the atmosphere as cow burps. A similar relationship between termites and methanogens allows termites to consume wood, again releasing methane as a waste product. Much atmospheric methane thus owes it origin to ruminants and termites.

The methanogens in which we are interested, however, live in the anoxic sediments of the ocean floor. These sediments, which can accumulate to depths of many hundreds of meters (well over a thousand feet), lack oxygen except in their topmost few centimeters (an inch or so). (Some oxygen, apparently from water flowing through bedrock, does seep into the base of the sediments [D'Hondt, 2004], but it is unimportant for our purposes.)

In the sediments, many microorganisms consume the organic detritus which has rained down through the water column. This process of consumption both depletes the remaining oxygen and releases carbon dioxide. That carbon dioxide, and other carbon sources, provide the carbon from which the methanogens manufacture methane. Other organisms contribute hydrogen (Gross, 1996), though hydrogen is also produced by inorganic means, through the interaction of ocean floor basalt and water (Stevens and McKinley, 1995), and even by a certain kind of radioactive decay (alpha particles -- helium nuclei -- colliding with water molecules, create hydrogen peroxide, oxygen, and hydrogen gas; Fields, 2003).

The Archaean domain is comprised of three different groups, based on where they live and what they do to make a living. (These groupings are similar to classifying people according to their home neighborhoods and occupations, and do not necessarily reflect how closely they may be related.) One group is the thermophiles, which, as their name implies, prefer hot conditions. These hot conditions are found in two situations, either where extremely hot water comes pouring out of the earth under the sea, at the sites of black smokers, white smokers, or hot seeps, or in the hot pools and geyser basins that are found in areas of volcanic activity, as at Yellowstone.

In these situations, water temperatures can exceed the boiling point of water (100°C; 212°F); in fact, the water that comes out of black smokers can be many hundreds of degrees hot. Nonetheless, some thermophiles, called hyperthermophiles, can survive temperatures above 100°C, because they exist at ocean depths where the pressure is so great (100 to 500 times that of the surface of the earth: Gross, 1996) that the water cannot become steam. Other thermophiles prefer somewhat cooler temperatures, in the 85°C range.

A second group of archaea are the halophiles ("salt-lovers"). These creatures prefer extremely saline conditions such as in deserts where high evaporation rates prevail. During wet seasons, thunderstorms, or in flash floods, rainwater washes down sediments and soluble materials from surrounding mountains into desert basin areas. There, without any outlet, the water evaporates under the unrelenting sun, eventually leaving behind only a dry playa. But before the basin gets to that stage, if it ever does, the salt content rises. The Dead Sea, between Israel and Jordan, is one well-known example, and the Utah's Great Salt Lake is another.

Water in the Great Salt Lake is about 25% salt, making it easy to float in (in fact, making it impossible not to float in), but unpleasant for getting in one's eyes. Halophiles don't find it unpleasant at all. While other microorganisms would find their water sucked from their bodies like prunes by the salinity, the halophiles protect themselves by incorporating a higher concentration of salt than is found in their environment. One curious feature of the Great Salt Lake, however, is that the water is pink. That pinkness is the consequence of the archaean halophiles which enjoy its salinity. Despite their extreme situations, they actually engage in a type of photosynthesis, though not using chlorophyll. It is the purple color of the pigment they employ for photosynthesis that makes the water pink.

The third group of archaea are the methanogens. The name derives from the fact that methanogens make (generate) methane, just as hydrogen, combined with oxygen (that is, when burned), makes water (hydro in Greek). The methanogens are divided into five subclassifications (called "orders"; see BOX: Biological classification, in Permian World section), Methanococcales (about 9 species), Methanobacteriales (about 25 species), Methanosarcinales (about 19 species), Methanomicrobiales (about 22 species), and Methanopyrales (1 species; Madigan, 2003). (The methano- indicates that these archaea are methanogens; the second part of the name refers to the organism's shape: coccus = sphere, bacteria = rod, sarcina = cubic, and microbiales = extremely small, round, flat, onion-flavored rolls: bialies are a breakfast favorite of many New Yorkers. The last order, Methanopyrales, derives its name not from the shape of its single species, methanopyrus, but rather from the ecological conditions in which that species lives. "Pyro," as in pyromaniac, comes from the Greek word for fire; methanopyrus lives in hot springs at extremely hot temperatures.)

Interestingly, it is clear that some methanogens can actually turn around and consume methane under particular conditions (Hinrichs, 1999; Hallam, 2004). These archaea, like some bacteria that also can consume methane, are referred to as methanotrophs (literally, "methane-eaters"). Some archaea, however, may be exclusively methanotrophic, and could therefore constitute a fourth division of the Archaea (Hinrichs, 1999).


 Archaea Classification


Formally, the archaean domain, Archaea, is divided into three groups. These groupings are based on the actual relatedness of the organisms, rather than how they make their livings. There is some disagreement as to the classification level (scientists use the term "taxonomic" level to refer to classification level; see BOX: Biological classification, in Permian World section) level in which these groups should be placed. The next lower level after domain is kingdom, and the one below that is the phylum, and some scientists have placed the basic archaeal division at the kingdom level, while others consider the main groups as at the phylum level. The classification level reflects how closely the groups are related: whether they are near or distant "cousins."


But while the classification level issue may be unresolved, there is general agreement on the main archaean groups. They are the Euryarchaeota, which contains the methanogens and halophiles and some of the thermophiles, and the Crenarchaeota, to which many of the thermophiles belong. A third group, the Korarchaeota, is known only from their organic residues rather than from the organisms themselves. Although the Korarchaeota may constitute a special side branch of the Crenarchaeota, there is no question that its members -- yet to be isolated -- are quite distinct from other archaea. Their RNA tells us so. In fact, it is the RNA differences among the archaea which has allowed biologists to distinguish the relations and divisions among the various groups. The recent discovery of a new archaeal organism, Nanoarchaeum (Huber, 2002), has led to a proposal that an additional group of archaea may exist, based, however, on the microbe's distinctive DNA.

As scientists have continued their investigations of the Archaea, they have made some stunning discoveries. Unknown and unsuspected until just two decades ago, archaeans turn out to be major, if not dominant, constituents of the biota of oceans and soils, and significant contributors to essential biochemical processes therein. In both oceans and soils, archaeans oxidize ammonia, a critical step in the production of biologically usable nitrogen compounds (a process called nitrogen fixation). It used to be thought that this process was carried on solely by bacteria, but it is now known that archaea oxidize tens to hundreds -- and, in some situations, perhaps thousands -- of times more ammonia than bacteria (Leininger, 2006; Wuchter, 2006). "Higher" plants, like photosynthesizing land plants, cannot accomplish this task on their own, and are completely dependent on microbes to provide them with this essential nutrient. In the oceans, it has been discovered, Crenarcheota "are the most abundant single group of prokaryotes" (Wuchter, 2006).

Living things make their livings in two basic ways: they either make and consume their own food (a process called autotrophy), or they consume other living things, or the organics they create (a process called heterotrophy. We are heterotrophs, and as such rely on other living things for our food supply, virtually all of which comes directly or indirectly from plants (with the minor exceptions of fungi and seaweed -- neither is a true plant, incidentally -- which provide rather little nutritional value).

The most familiar kind of autotrophy (photoautotrophy) is photosynthesis, which most commonly employs chlorophyll to facilitate the manufacture of a basic sugar unit (CH¸2O, six of which are assembled to form glucose, a simple sugar: C¸6H¸12O¸6) from the raw materials water and carbon dioxide. The chemical equation for this process is:

  H¸2O  +          CO¸2                Æ              CH¸2O          +     O¸2
(water) + (carbon dioxide) (yields) (basic sugar unit) + (oxygen)

It is important to note that the useful product of this process is the basic sugar unit, and not the oxygen, most of which is simply a waste product (though some is used for cellular respiration) and is dumped.
Photosynthesis is conducted in today's world by four main groups of organisms: cyanobacteria, two other kinds of marine phytoplankton, and the plant kingdom. Phytoplankton include all free-floating oceanic microorganisms that engage in photosynthesis, and therefore include cyanobacteria and two main groups of eukaryotic organisms: the diatoms and coccolithophorids. On land, green plants constitute the fourth group of photosynthesizers. All of these four groups with the exception of the coccolithophorids, also referred to as coccolithophores or coccoliths, were around in the Permian.

Cyanobacteria used to be called blue-green algae, because they used to be considered plants. But it is now clear that they belong to the classification Eubacteria, and are only very distantly related either to the photosynthesizing eukaryotes of the phytoplankton (the diatoms and coccolithophorids) or to the green plants of our ordinary experience. Despite that distant relationship, however, there is a very important connection between cyanobacteria and all other photosynthesizing eukaryotes, including green plants.

All eukaryotic photosynthesizers are able to photosynthesize because they contain chlorophyll, enclosed in cellular organelles called chloroplasts. In the 1960's the microbiologist Lynn Margulis recognized that many of the organelles of eukaryotes were actually former symbionts which more than a billion years ago lived independently of the eukaryotes in which they are now found. (They are referred to as endosymbionts because they are inside rather than outside the cell). It is now generally accepted that the original cyanobacterial ancestor of the chloroplast was captured during the early evolution of the eukaryotic cell, some billion and a half years ago.

There is a second kind of autotrophy which is far less familiar. This kind is labelled chemoautotrophy because it relies on chemical processes rather than light for the energy needed for food production. Instead of dumping oxygen, these organisms dump other metabolic waste products. Methanogens, the ones with which we are most concerned, dump methane. Although numerous organic molecules, including acetate, formate, and methyl alcohol, can be used as the source of carbon, the simplest methanogenesis reaction employs carbon dioxide and hydrogen:

         CO¸2           +       4H¸2           Æ          CH¸4      + 2H¸2O
(carbon dioxide) + (hydrogen) (yields) (methane) + (water)

The main product of this reaction for the methanogen is not methane, which is waste (at least for the methanogen), or water, which is obviously plentiful in the watery environments in which methanogens are found, but energy. The reaction releases a certain amount of energy which the organism then puts to use in assembling the organic molecules it needs for its existence.

A good deal of our atmosphere's methane comes from the activity of methanogens in wetlands, especially in colder regions, and in the rice paddies of warm climates. Although methanogens reside in numerous exotic environments -- the guts of cows and termites, swamps, northern peatlands, rice paddies, Yellowstone hot springs, and undersea vent communities -- those of greatest interest to us here live buried deep in the ocean-bottom sediments.

A huge quantity of methane is produced in the sediments of the ocean floor. When marine organisms and microorganisms die, their corpses rain slowly down to the bottom of the ocean. In the process, they are mixed with silty (fine-grained), sandy or pebbly sediments washed into the ocean by rivers. The sediments and the organic matter come to rest on the ocean floor, to be buried by further sedimentation. Because most marine organisms live relatively close to shore and because most of the sediment washing off the continents is carried only a short distance, a considerable portion of the organic debris and mud winds up on those parts of the ocean which are shallow and close to the continents.

These areas are called the continental margins. The part of the continental margin that is shallowest, flattest, and closest to shore is called the continental shelf. The continental shelf drops down to an average depth of about 130 meters (400 feet). At about this depth, there is a "shelf break," and the ocean floor drops more steeply down what is referred to as the continental slope, to the great depths of the oceans' abyssal plains, the deepest and flattest parts of the oceans.



 
The ocean floor off the Middle Atlantic states, New England, and eastern Canada. The number 1 indicates the continental shelf; 2, the continental slope; 3, the continental rise, 4, the abyssal plain, and 5, a submarine canyon cut by water from the Hudson River. Seamounts rise from the abyssal plain. Map from Siebold and Berger, 1982.

The dead organisms in the continental margin mud's mostly decay in conditions that exclude the presence of free oxygen; these are called anoxic environments. Though there is often a good deal of oxygen in deep ocean water, the oxygen is rapidly depleted in the upper few centimeters (an inch or two) of sediment by microorganisms which employ that oxygen in the process of consuming organic debris. With the extreme oceanic cold at these depths, however, the process of organic decay is quite slow.

Below the oxic zone, those top few centimeters of sediment where oxygen is still present, the organic decay becomes even slower and much less efficient. This is because the process of anaerobic decay -- that is, the process of decay by organisms that do not use free oxygen -- is vastly slower than that by aerobic (oxygen using) organisms. But even in sediments hundreds of meters below the seafloor, decay is still going on. At such depths, in fact, the chill imparted by the overlying frigid ocean water begins to give way to the warmth generated from within the Earth. Because the efficiency of metabolism at these temperatures increases with warmth, decay may become more efficient, as long as chemical energy sources like hydrogen, sulfate, or various organic compounds such as acetate are available. It is in this region of sediment well below the seafloor that the methane-makers thrive, and the production of methane takes place.

Being a lightweight gas, the methane produced by the methanogens rises. Though -- as we shall see -- most methane never makes it so far, some eventually does reach the top five or so centimeters (about two inches) of the sediment.

The Seafloor

Though the term "seafloor" is regularly used herein, the seafloor in most parts of the ocean is not a simple, solid surface. It is not composed of rock, but of accumulations of sediment that have settled there from the time that the ocean basin originated. While the deepest sediments have been compressed by the weight of overlying sediments and sometimes turned to rock, the shallower sediments are less and less consolidated with decreasing age and depth. Approaching the surface, the sediments are the consistency of mud, though in places they are mostly water. Higher still, the sediment has such a high water content that it is like a soup or slurry. Near its contact with the ocean itself, the uppermost layer is nothing more than muddy water. Because of the lack of a solid surface, oceanographers often prefer the term "sediment-water interface" instead of seafloor.

Because much sediment originates on continents, it is generally more plentiful close to the continents, and particularly at the mouths of large rivers, creating their deltas. Rivers like the Nile, Mississippi, Niger, Chang Jiang (Yangtze), Ob, Indus, Ganges and Brahmaputra all have substantial deltas, but much of their sediment is carried far out to sea, accumulating on the continental margins, and especially on the continental slopes. In deeper ocean areas, the major sediment source are the organisms that live near the ocean surface, whose skeletons, feces, and other organic debris rain down slowly to the seafloor.

Not all of the seafloor has a sediment cover, however. In some places, strong currents scour the seafloor clean, exposing the bedrock below.

It is rare that nature produces anything as a waste product for which some organism cannot find a use. While methanogens simply dump the methane they produce, other organisms live on it. Much of the free methane which eventually finds its way up through the sediments is consumed by bacterial or archaeal methanotrophs. Some bacterial methanotrophs are aerobic, and therefore must live in the aerated (oxic) conditions at the top of the ocean sediment or in the ocean itself. Within the deeper, anoxic sediments, however, microorganisms frequently use sulfate (ions containing both sulfur and oxygen) to provide energy, a process known as sulfate-reduction.

Because sulfates is easily dissolved in seawater, numerous sulfate-reducers are found in oceanic sediments. (The amount of sulfate dissolved in seawater is truly extraordinary; it has been estimated at some 1376 trillion metric tons: Brock and Madigan, 1988, p. 630.) The higher concentrations of sulfate are found close to the sediment surface, where organic carbon debris, another essential foodstuff for sulfate-reducers, is also found. There the sulfate-reducers congregate, living in consortia with the methanotrophs, harvesting methane as it rises from below (DeLong, 2000). In northern peatlands, the methanotrophs consume as much as 90% of the methane available (Dedysh, 1998); it seems likely that a similar or greater percentage of the methane escaping from marine sediments may meet the same end.

Some methane undoubtedly makes it through the gantlet of the methanotrophs in the topmost sediment, then through the ocean itself and escapes into the atmosphere. Most methane, however, never makes it even as far as the sediments of the upper seafloor. Instead, as it rises through the deep sediments, it quickly becomes trapped in lattice-like structures or cages (called clathrates) composed of water ice. (Clathrates are microscopic crystalline chemical structures. They are highly efficient storage units and can contain several different kinds of gas, including carbon dioxide.) At the proper conditions of temperature and pressure, methane or other gases found in the porous sediments spontaneously react with seawater to produce these structures.

Those clathrates which specifically hold natural gas in their icy lattices are referred to as gas hydrates ("hydro" is the Greek word for water). There are three gas hydrate structures, referred to as Structure I (sI), Structure II (sII), and Structure H (sH). Structure I typically contains exclusively methane; the other two structures are slightly larger (though still microscopic) and can contain somewhat larger gas molecules, though their primary constituent (called guest molecules) remains methane. Structure I is the least stable, meaning that it can break up ("dissociate") at lower pressures and higher temperatures than the other structures. Structure II is the most stable, while Structure H, previously known exclusively from the laboratory and just recently found in the seafloor, is intermediate in stability (Lu, 2007).

While other hydrocarbon gases are frequently found together with methane in gas hydrates, the most common gas, by far, is methane. It comprises more than 99% of the gas in gas hydrates, with few other natural gases, like ethane, and occasionally propane. Though the term "methane hydrate," rather than gas hydrate is technically reserved for hydrates with greater than 99.9% of their contents as methane, the terms herein will be used interchangeably unless there is a specific reason to do otherwise.

Methane hydrates are extremely efficient in trapping methane, holding about 160 times the amount which would be occupied by the equivalent volume of free methane. In other words, a given volume of methane can be stored in a hydrate only 1/160th its size. Consequently, methane hydrates can contain huge quantities of methane.

Methane hydrate, the "ice that burns." 
As the methane burns, the ice which 
formerly trapped it melts. (US Department of Energy photo.)

Methane hydrates form wherever methane and water are present at the proper temperature and pressure conditions. In fact, an experiment in the Santa Barbara Basin off southern California revealed that just as soon as methane is released into deep, cold water, methane hydrates form. Because methane hydrate is lighter than water, it quickly floats to the surface. That is why chunks of methane hydrate as large as refrigerators have been spotted floating on the ocean surface, where they rapidly melt and their methane is released into the atmosphere. But because methane hydrate typically forms deep within the seafloor sediments, those sediments keep it in place. Consequently, despite the enormous quantity of methane hydrate that exists, only small amounts are found on the seafloor itself, where it can detach and float away, or, as happened with the Canadian fishing boat, where it can be scraped off the bottom itself. These chunks attract the curiosity of those who find them because they can easily be set on fire, burning off the methane and leaving just a puddle of water. Hence the name, "the ice that burns."

METHANE AND METHANE 
HYDRATES, SECTION 2

On the margins of the continents, below the seafloor, methane hydrate exists in vast quantities. It is there that the temperature and pressure conditions for hydrate formation are found, and where the hydrate, once formed, will not float away. These hydrates exist at temperatures around 0°C (32°F) -- freezing -- and up to about 15°C (27°F) higher. The deep water of the seafloor can be extremely frigid, down to almost two degrees C° (3.6°F) below the freezing point of fresh water (Broecker, 1997). But the water of the deep sea does not freeze because of the extreme pressure and its high salt content. (If it did, like an ice cube in a cool summer drink, it would float to the surface.)


Methane hydrate in seafloor gravel. 
The ball-point pen shows size. 
(Photo credit: Thomas H. Mroz, Geological Survey of Canada. 
From: Kerr, 2004 [Gas Hydrate Resource: Smaller But Sooner])

Nonetheless, the hydrates in the sediments of the seafloor do remain frozen: after all, they are icy lattices. In addition, they remain frozen even well above the normal melting point of ice (0°C; 32°F), and at temperatures up to about 15°C (59°F). They manage this feat because of the enormous pressure that exists at these depths. The pressure is due to the weight of the overlying water. This weight accumulates so rapidly that just 10 meters (yards) below sea level, the pressure from the water alone is equivalent to that of the atmosphere. Every additional 10 meters adds another equal amount of weight.

These great pressures keep hydrate stable even at the increasingly warmer temperatures found in the more deeply buried sediment. Sediment temperatures increase with depth because they are heated from below, by the warmth from the interior of the Earth. Typically temperature increases with sediment depth by about 40°C to 50°C per kilometer (about 115°F to 145°F per mile). (This increase is considerably higher than that in the crust of continents, which is about 25°C per kilometer, or 72°F per mile.) This temperature rise is referred to as the geothermal gradient -- or geotherm -- for short.

Eventually the increasing warmth in deeper sediments prevents the formation of hydrates. Below a certain depth, depending on the local temperature conditions, hydrates cannot form, and only free methane exists. Between this depth, known as the base of the gas hydrate stability zone (BGHSZ) and the top of the gas hydrate stability zone is where the hydrates are. Thus oceanic methane hydrates are usually found buried in sediments where the overlying seawater is at least 300 meters (yards) deep. Depending on the local geothermal gradient, the hydrates can be found up to about 2000 meters (about 1.2 miles) beneath the seafloor, though typically the depth extends to only about 1100 meters (somewhat more than 0.6 mile) below the seafloor.

Methane Hydrate Stability Curve. 
In this example, the zone in which gas hydrate can exist is between 1200 and 1500 meters. (Actually, methane hydrates can exist anywhere from about 300 to 200 meters, depending on temperature conditions and sediment depth.) To explain the various lines: The "phase boundary" line (a pressure/temperature line) divides the methane as hydrate (that is methane ice) to the left of the line from methane that has dissociated from hydrate on the right. The "hydro-thermal gradient" dotted line indicates the water temperature. The "Water/ Sediment" line marks the seafloor. The "geothermal gradient" dotted line indicates the temperature of the sediments, which increases with depth. At some depth (marked by the line "Base of gas hydrate"), the sediments become too warm for hydrate to exist. Below this depth, free ethane can exist, but not methane in ice. Methane hydrate, therefore, can only exist in the speckled area. (Kvenvolden, 1993)

To study the ocean floor and the sediments below, scientists often use seismic reflection (sonar). Oceanographic ships bounce sound waves (often big pops from air guns) off ocean bottoms, and the echoes tell the distance to the bottom, just as the echoes of shouts in canyons, if carefully measured, can indicate the distance to the canyon walls. The echoes of those sound waves reflected from the ocean bottom can also indicate the nature of the surface under the waves. Rock reflects sound strongly; waterlogged sediments reflect it only weakly. But the lack of strong reflections from the sediments below the seafloor permit the sound waves to penetrate more deeply, helping to provide details of deeply buried structures. Thus these seismic reflection studies can provide a lot of information about parts of the planet which are otherwise difficult -- if not impossible -- to explore directly.

One strange feature turned up in many early oceanic seismic reflection studies. This reflection had been the cause of some consternation on the part of those who explored the ocean floor of the continental margin for oil deposits because the reflection seemed to indicate that there was a "sub-floor" some distance beneath the actual floor of the ocean. The "sub-floor" reflection paralleled the seafloor, undulating up and down pretty much in synchrony with the seafloor itself. Because of this curious behavior, this false bottom reflection was given the name "bottom-simulating reflector," or BSR.


 
Sonar image of seafloor sediments. Vertical distance is measured in "two-way travel time in seconds," because sonar imaging measures sound reflections. Typically, however, each second of time, within the sediment, represents slightly over a kilometer (0.6 mile) in distance. Thus the vertical distance shown here is somewhat over two kilometers. (Note that the horizontal distance is NOT to the same scale.)
The image shows the BSR, the bottom-simulating reflector. Notice how it closely parallels the contour of the seafloor surface, thus giving it its name. Methane hydrate (here referred to as gas hydrate) is found in the sediment above the BSR, and free gas in the sediment below. It is the contrast in densities between the overlying, solid hydrate and the free gas in the sediment below that causes the change in the sonar reflection. (Kvenvolden, 1994)

The mystery was solved, however, when the B.S.R was traced to the existence of the free methane/methane hydrate interface (boundary). The free methane gas failed to reflect the sonar signal, while the layers of methane hydrate above created a strong signal, made even stronger by the contrast with the free gas below. The B.S.R marked this boundary. The B.S.R closely followed the topography of the seafloor because it was to this depth that the oceanic cold penetrated, allowing the formation of hydrate. Deeper, the warmth from the interior of the planet did not permit the hydrate to form.

Now that scientists recognize the existence and understand the meaning of the BSR, they use it as a primary method to determine the locations of methane hydrate on continental margins throughout the world. The BSR delineates the base of the gas hydrate stability zone (BGHSZ), and allows its determination without drilling.

Within the gas hydrate stability zone, methane hydrates typically appear as bright white streaks, lumps, lens-shaped units and discontinuous layers in the brownish continental margin mud's. Recent laboratory work has indicated that methane hydrate may also exist in thin sheets in layers of certain ocean bottom clay's (specifically, the clay's montmorillonite and smectite). Therefore, even where methane hydrate is not visibly present, it may be concealed as part of seafloor mud's (Guggenheim and Koster van Groos, 2003).

In coarse-grained sediment units -- those composed of sands and gravels rather than mud's -- there is greater pore space for hydrates to form. In these units, therefore, hydrates can be found as cements -- gluing the sands and gravels together by occupying the spaces between grains and pebbles. There are also more massive, laterally continuous layers, ranging from two meters (yards) up to several tens of meters in thickness (Clennel, 2000). These hydrate layers and units, thick and thin, form a largely impermeable barrier within the sediment.

Below this barrier, however, lies a substantial amount of free methane, too warm to form hydrate. Some of this free gas undoubtedly trickles upward into the gas hydrate stability zone (GHSZ), but there, because pressure and temperature conditions are right, it also becomes hydrate. Most hydrate, in fact, is likely to have been produced in this fashion. Some free methane, however, is carried upwards in warm fluids (water with dissolved gases, minerals, and/or organic matter) that circulate in the sediments. This methane may make it through the gas hydrate stability zone and the overlying sediments, evade being consumed by methanotrophs, and escape into the water column and eventually into the atmosphere.

Known localities of seafloor and 
permafrost methane hydrates. 
To a large extent, this map only reflects where drilling has occurred, and should not be taken as an indication of the true distribution of the hydrates. Further drilling will undoubtedly reveal more hydrate.


Numerous attempts have been made to estimate the amount of methane hydrate in the world's continental margins. The task is a difficult one, partly due to the relative scarcity of drill cores into and through the hydrates themselves. Consequently, all quantity estimates must be based on limited data, and on factors such as the amount of pore space available for hydrate storage which also must be estimated. Nonetheless, a recent study that meticulously identified these various factors and determined their probable ranges came up with a global estimate of 5,000 to 20,000 gigatons (billions of metric tons, abbreviated as Gt) of carbon in oceanic hydrate methane (Dickens, 2001). This seems like a not unreasonable estimate not merely because of the careful work that went into making it, but also because it is in substantial agreement with other estimates using a variety of methods (as Kvenvolden, 1988a, which estimates 10,000 Gt), as well as the fact that the estimate range is quite generous. A new estimate, based on the amount of carbon reaching the seafloor, places methane hydrate at 3000 Gt (Buffett and Archer, 2004). (Map modified from Kvenvolden, 1988)

The methane hydrate study does not attempt to estimate the amount of free methane that underlies the hydrate, but another study indicates that this may range from one-sixth to two-thirds of that in the hydrate itself. The maximum likely quantity of free methane is about 1550 Gt, the minimum about 150, with an intermediate estimate of 520 (Hornbach, 2004). This is a substantial amount of methane; nonetheless, it does not appreciably increase the total amount of methane (hydrate plus free gas) found in the continental margins. A new estimate, however, puts the amount of free gas at about 38% of total continental margin methane (Buffett and Archer, 2004).

Methane hydrate itself is also found in permafrost. During the Ice Age, the cold near the poles was so intense that the ground froze. Interestingly, the great ice sheets that descended from the north into North America, Scandinavia, and western Russia provided some protection from the cold, and spared large portions of those regions from the permanent freezing of their soils. What freezing did take place largely melted at the end of the Ice Age.

Ground that was not covered by ice, however, was not so fortunate. In frigid areas that lacked sufficient precipitation (in the form of snow) to create the ice sheets, like a good portion of northern Siberian Russia and elsewhere in the Arctic, the ground froze down to depths as great as 1000 meters (three thousand feet), though about 600 meters (roughly 1800 feet) is more typical. Although the surface layer of this region does melt during the brief far northern summer, it is still frozen at shallow depths. Hence the name permafrost for permanently frozen ground.

Technically, permafrost is ground that remains below freezing for at least two years in a row, but much permafrost has been around for far longer than that. Perhaps astonishingly, permafrost underlies as much as 20% of the earth's continental surface: in polar and near polar regions, and in mountainous areas.


 
North polar region continental permafrost distribution. The darker blue indicates the area of continuous permafrost; the lighter blue the discontinuous permafrost, where occasional thawing has taken place. (Graphic adapted from Arctic Monitoring and Assessment Programme/CAFF, from Stokstad, 2004.)

It is also found in the continental margins that enclose the Arctic Ocean, which froze as deeply as the surrounding continents. Because permafrost usually extends to depths of about 600 meters and the hydrate stability zone extends deeper still, methane hydrate can be found both within the permafrost and below it. The stability zone for methane hydrate in permafrost therefore is usually between about 200 and 600 meters (yards), but it can be found at depths as shallow as about 130 meters, or as deep as 2000 (1.2 miles: Kvenvolden, 1988b).

There are considerable quantities of methane hydrate found in permafrost. One estimate puts the total at about 10 Gt of methane (Kvenvolden, 1993), although there is wild disagreement in such estimates (Kvenvolden, 1988b). This total represents only about 1% of the amount in the ocean's continental margins. Nonetheless, permafrost hydrate methane may have been important in warming the planet at the end of the most recent ice age.

Estimated size of hydrate-related methane reservoirs
Each methane molecule is three-quarters (3/4) carbon, by atomic weight.
  Amount of methane Amount of carbon
Continental margin methane hydrates 6667 to 26667 Gt 5000 to 20,000 Gt
Free gas below continental margin hydrates1550 Gt (high estimate)
520 Gt (intermediate)
150 Gt (low estimate)
1163 Gt
390 Gt
113 Gt
Methane hydrates
in permafrost
10 Gt7.5 Gt
Total (rounded)6800 to 28000 Gt5100 to 21000 Gt
Gt = 10^15 grams = one billion metric tons (each metric ton = 1.1 imperial tons)

In measuring the amount of methane in hydrates and in the free gas below them, its carbon content is often included as well. Employing an estimate of the amount of carbon, rather than an estimate of the methane itself, allows comparison with carbon elsewhere on the planet. Carbon is found in things living and dead, terrestrial and marine, in the air, water, and rocks. These stores of carbon are referred to as carbon reservoirs, which hold carbon just as a water reservoir holds water.


Carbon Reservoirs.
  
This diagram indicates the estimated size of various carbon reservoirs, that is the amount of carbon in the ocean, on land, in organic matter, living and dead, in the atmosphere, in fossil fuels, and in methane hydrates ("clathrates"). Amounts given are in billions of metric tons (1 metric ton = 1.1 imperial tons). The arrows indicate the amounts of carbon which were transferred annually from one reservoir to another; the amount of fossil fuel carbon being transferred to the atmosphere has increased in the years since the diagram was drawn. (MacDonald, 1990)

As with water reservoirs, carbon can move from one reservoir to another. A simple example is that of what happens in forest fires: some carbon moves from the reservoir of living terrestrial organisms to that of the atmospheric reservoir in the form of carbon dioxide and carbon monoxide gas. Another example is that of leaves in autumn: the falling leaves move from the reservoir of living terrestrial flora to that of dead terrestrial organisms. Consumed by beetles and earthworms, some of that carbon enters yet another reservoir, that of terrestrial fauna.

These reservoirs may be considered separately or considered together, for differing scientific purposes. Thus all terrestrial organisms may be considered together, as the terrestrial biota reservoir, or that reservoir may be subdivided, for example, into flora (plants), fauna (animals), and microorganisms. Carbon is frequently moving between one reservoir and another, as when a leaf is consumed by a caterpillar. There the carbon moves from the reservoir of terrestrial flora to that of terrestrial fauna. When the caterpillar breathes out carbon dioxide, the exhaled carbon becomes part of the atmospheric reservoir. But perhaps only temporarily, if the carbon dioxide is taken up by a plant during photosynthesis, and used for making more leaves.

In these processes, carbon is being exchanged from one reservoir to another. Carbon in some reservoirs is more easily exchanged than carbon in others. The previous example illustrates a common sort of exchange. The carbon in the crust of the Earth, however, largely in the form of carbonate rocks like limestone, is not easily exchanged. Nor was the carbon that was locked up in fossil fuels -- petroleum, coal, and natural gas -- until the coming of the industrial age. Now, carbon from the fossil fuel reservoir, as that carbon is burned, is entering the atmospheric reservoir (largely as carbon dioxide) at a colossal and increasing rate.

Another look at the diagram of carbon reservoirs reveals some astonishing facts about the methane hydrate reservoir. It is at least twice that of the fossil fuel reservoir, that is, there is more carbon in methane hydrate than in oil, coal, and natural gas. It is greater than that of all other near-surface carbon reservoirs (except carbonate rocks) combined. It is vastly greater than the amount in all organisms, living and dead. And -- not least -- it is over thirteen times the total amount of carbon in the atmospheric reservoir.

The quantity of carbon in the methane hydrate reservoir has attracted considerable interest on the part of energy companies, particularly as petroleum reserves are depleted. Extracting methane from hydrate has thus far proved to be prohibitively expensive. Dispersed within sediments or permafrost, methane can only be released by pumping warm fluids into the hydrate, or by adding chemicals which cause its dissociation (the breakup of hydrate into water and its enclosed gas, usually methane). The Soviets experimented with the latter strategy in the Messoyakha field in western Siberia beginning in the late 1960's, pumping methanol (methyl alcohol) down into the hydrate. Though some methane was obtained, the venture proved a costly failure, and after many years the attempt was abandoned (Kvenvolden, 1988b).

This failure does not rule out the possibility that other technologies will ultimately be successful, but it does emphasize the fact that extracting methane from hydrate is likely to be complex and expensive -- perhaps prohibitively so. Employing two completely different extraction technologies, a test well in the Mackenzie delta of Canada's Arctic northwest in 2003 (the Mallik project) succeeded in dissociating methane hydrate. One technique was simply to depressurize the hydrate by drilling through it to the free gas trapped beneath, thereby relieving the pressure on the hydrate from below, allowing both free gas and dissociating methane to flow up the well pipes. The second was to pump warm water into the hydrates, dissociating them by warmth, and carrying methane to the surface in the recirculating water (Kerr, 2004).

Though the Mallik project showed that such techniques can release methane from hydrate, the economic feasibility of large-scale extraction nonetheless remains doubtful. While drilling through hydrate to the free methane below may offer an opportunity for exploiting this resource, that methane must pass through the hydrate stability zone, which could cause difficulties. The obstructive formation of hydrate in pipelines has been a well-known and persistent problem for energy companies. The Mallik well site was specifically chosen because approximately half of the more than two hundred meters of sediment at depths from about 900 to 1100 meters was full of hydrate; few other locations possess such high concentrations of hydrate. Even the optimists think that any commercial production of methane from hydrate is 10 to 15 years away, and any significant production at least 30 years in the future (Kerr, 2004).

While methane hydrate is quite widespread, its formation does require specific pressure and temperature conditions. Changes in these conditions, therefore, can lead to the dissociation of the hydrate and the release of the enclosed methane. The hydrate reservoir undoubtedly varies in quantity over time as methane is produced by decomposition, or released into the overlying sediments. However, significant releases of hydrate methane, and the free methane that normally underlies it, can be caused by changes in temperature and pressure conditions.

Some free methane, as earlier mentioned, certainly escapes into and through the gas hydrate stability zone via warm fluids circulating in fault zones. The general heating of the hydrate, as by changing ocean currents, or at the end of ice ages, can release much larger quantities, and more rapidly. The temperature changes do not have to be great: a few degrees warming will do. Pressure changes also effect the release of methane. When large quantities of water are removed from the ocean as they are in ice age continental ice sheets, sea level is lowered, and continental margin hydrates are depressurized. Conversely, when sea level rises, the ocean can flood coastal areas underlain by permafrost, thawing them and releasing hydrate methane.

The most vulnerable hydrates are probably those associated with offshore Arctic permafrost (Kvenvolden, 1988b). These hydrates lie at relatively shallow depths, and are located where the ice age permafrost is currently still melting. In addition, because global warming has hit polar regions first and hardest, they are particularly vulnerable to the effects of that warming.

The Alaskan North Slope, and the adjacent Beaufort Sea, a part of the Arctic Ocean, have been intensely studied because of the area's great oil wealth. Numerous drilling sites in the Alaskan North Slope permafrost have already recorded significant surface warming -- of 2 to 4°C (3.6 to 7.2°F) -- during the twentieth century (Lachenbruch and Marshall, 1986). The Beaufort Sea, an area of widespread offshore permafrost, is presumably subject to the same warming as the onshore permafrost. This oceanic area turns out to be a zone of "massive slumps and slides," associated with gas hydrates (Kvenvolden, 1993).


 
Maps of the Beaufort Sea. Upper map is of the methane hydrate (here, gas hydrate) zone in the Arctic Ocean north of Alaska's North Slope. Lower map shows the area of submarine landslides. Note how the landslide area is essentially the same as that of the gas hydrates, thus revealing the relation between gas hydrates and seafloor stability. Oceanic warming (between ice ages) or depressurization (during ice ages) can cause the dissociation of the hydrates, leading to the submarine landslides. (Kvenvolden, 1993)

When methane hydrate dissociates (melts and releases its gas), the sediment is no longer held together by the hydrate ice, and the melt water provides a slippery surface on which the overlying sediments can slide. The Beaufort Sea slumps and slides are presumably due to such hydrate-related sediment disturbances during ice age drops in sea level, and/or warmth after each cooling episode.

On other continental margins, however, it has been suggested that the effects of warming would be counterbalanced by the increased pressure due to the thermal expansion of water (for example, Kvenvolden, 1993; Dickens, 2001). Above 3.9°C (39°F), water expands as it warms. This expansion increases the volume of the water, but not its weight, which remains the same. But because an increase in the ocean's volume adds proportionally more water to the ocean's shallower areas, the pressure on the continental margin sediments is also proportionately increased.

The thermal expansion of water

To visualize how this works, suppose the thermal expansion of the ocean produces an increase of ten meters (yards) in global sea level. In places where the ocean is six kilometers (about 3.5 miles) deep, such a small increase hardly matters. But in areas where the ocean is just ten meters deep, another ten meters doubles the depth of the water. The resulting increase in pressure on the shallow seafloor sediments is almost double. (A second example is provided in the graphic below.)


The idea that the effect of oceanic warming on continental margin hydrates may be counterbalanced by pressure increases, however, may not hold up to more detailed scrutiny. This is because below 3.9°C (39°F), water, unlike other cooling liquids, does not contract, it expands. Water at its freezing point, 0°C (32°F) is actually less dense than slightly warmer water. Thus frigid water, warming from freezing to 3.9°C, actually contracts.



Water density and temperature. 
Water is most dense at about 4°C (about 39°F), indicated by the black dotted line. At either lower or higher temperatures, it is less dense. This is why ice floats, and why water above about 4°C expands. (Bailar, 1965, p. 41)

The contraction of water as it warms to 3.9°C, and its expansion thereafter, thus means that there can be no simple and general description of how seafloor sediments and their hydrates will respond to warming. That behavior depends on the specific characteristics of particular ocean areas, including how deep they are, how temperatures change with depth (the "temperature profile"), and how that profile changes with warming. With ocean bottom water temperature often hovering at close to 0°C, surface waters in polar regions not much higher, but tropical surface waters up to about 35°C (95°F), there can be enormous variation in temperature profiles between one oceanic area and another. Additional factors, including variabilities due to seasonal warming and cooling cycles and seasonal current changes, complicate things even further.

The simple presumption that warmed hydrates in sediment will stay intact because of the increased pressure of overlying water therefore does not seem adequate to describe what, upon closer examination, appears to be a highly complex matter. A further complicating factor is that global warming not only increases the volume of water by decreasing its density (above 3.9°C/39°F, that is); it also actually adds to the total mass of water in the oceans by the melting of glaciers and the Greenland and Antarctic ice sheets. Though the rate of the rise in global sea level in the twentieth century has been minute (a mere 1.5 to 2.0 millimeters, or well under a tenth of an inch, per year), most of that increase is not due to the thermal expansion of water (only about 0.5 millimeters may be), but is rather the result of melting (Miller and Douglas, 2004).

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METHANE, METHANE HYDRATES, 
AND GLOBAL CLIMATE


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