For scientists braving the brutal, silent expanse of the West Antarctic Ice Sheet, life is as remote as it gets. Imagine a world of endless white, where the only signs of orientation are the subtle undulations of an otherwise featureless landscape. This is the realm of the Thwaites Glacier, a colossal frozen river that holds immense significance for our planet’s future.
“There’s nothing else around for thousands of kilometers,” says Dr. Peter Davis, a researcher with the British Antarctic Survey (BAS) who has spent five seasons in the field. “No aircraft, no cars – nothing.” Just reaching this isolated giant can take a month, a testament to the extreme lengths researchers go to uncover its secrets. Their vital work, often three months away from home, is unlocking critical insights into the fate of our coastal cities and global sea levels.
The Unstoppable Melt: Thwaites and Global Sea Level Rise
Dubbed the “Doomsday Glacier,” Thwaites is a natural spectacle of immense proportions, draining an area the size of Great Britain as it slides towards the ocean. However, this natural wonder is also alarmingly unstable, losing ice faster than it accumulates. For the last 80 years, Thwaites has been shedding more water through melting than it gains from snow.
“It’s all about the balance, and the balance has shifted,” explains Dr. Kaitlin Naughten, Dr. Davis’s colleague at BAS. Today, Thwaites accounts for approximately 4% of all global sea-level rise. At a staggering 120km (75 miles) wide and 2km (1.2 miles) thick, its complete meltdown would unleash enough water to raise global sea levels by half a meter (1.6ft) on its own. While other polar ice caps are also melting, Thwaites presents a singular, urgent threat.
A half-meter rise in sea level would submerge significant portions of Asia’s coastal megacities like Manila and Bangkok, as well as sizeable areas of the Netherlands and eastern England. It represents half of the sea-level rise needed to begin flooding Manhattan. With 230 million people worldwide living on land less than 1m (3.3ft) above high tide lines, the consequences of Thwaites’ collapse, including mass displacement, are truly global.
Unveiling the Glacier’s Secrets: From Satellites to Submerged Exploration
The science of Antarctic ice sheets is relatively young. While early 1990s reports suggested Antarctica might gain ice, this thinking shifted dramatically with the advent of satellite monitoring. “That’s when the main satellites that we use went up,” says Professor Noel Gourmelen of the University of Edinburgh, part of a team tracking ice sheet mass balance since 1992.
Satellite data reveals that West Antarctica has been losing an average of 82 billion tonnes of ice each year for the past three decades, with the rate of ice loss from Thwaites doubling over this period. The crumbling of Antarctic ice shelves – floating extensions that buttress glaciers – is accelerating this melting, and the shelves supporting Thwaites are already cracking and thinning.
Crucially, most of the western side of the Antarctic ice sheet is partly submerged. Thwaites, in particular, teeters on the edge of a deep seabed basin, like a lid on a saucepan. Warm ocean water can penetrate beneath this ‘lid,’ and as the glacier’s front rapidly retreats, these natural holds will be lost, allowing Thwaites to sink deeper into the basin and shrink at an even faster rate.
Scientists like Davis and Naughten are collaborating to understand the complex factors influencing the glacier’s demise. In 2014, Professor Mathieu Morlighem’s work at Dartmouth College confirmed Thwaites had lost 14km (8.7 miles) from its front in a single decade, with another study concluding that “early stage collapse” had already begun.
The Unknowns and the Bizarre: Can We Save Thwaites?
While the collapse of Thwaites seems inevitable, the exact timeframe remains uncertain. A major unknown is how icebergs will form once its supporting ice shelves break up. Some scientists fear a “domino effect” where giant ice cliffs would be too tall to stay upright, leading to a meter (3.3ft) of sea-level rise from Antarctica by 2100. However, Morlighem’s modeling suggests the ice sheet would thin rapidly, preventing such a catastrophic domino scenario.
Mysteries also lie beneath the glacier. Deep, hidden lakes occasionally drain, a process that can be spotted by satellites. Professor Gourmelen’s team recently linked a 2013 draining event to faster melting under Thwaites’ ice shelves. As fresh lake water escapes under the submerged front, it rises as a plume, drawing warmer seawater upwards and increasing the ocean’s ability to melt ice. The precise location of this drainage could be critical for the glacier’s stability.
Recent expeditions have also provided unprecedented views of the glacier’s underside. Using a hot water drill and a remotely-operated underwater vehicle called ‘Icefin,’ Dr. Davis’s team discovered that the underside, far from being smooth, is a complex landscape of deep crevasses and large terraces. This new understanding is crucial for accurate modeling of how and where Thwaites might melt.
Geoengineering: A Controversial Last Resort
Despite these scientific advancements, the forecast for Thwaites remains grim. Dr. Naughten’s 2023 models indicate that past carbon emissions have already committed us to rapid ice sheet melting and sea-level rise, largely irrespective of future emissions reductions.
Yet, some scientists are unwilling to accept Thwaites’ demise. Professor Brent Minchew, a geophysicist at MIT, recently launched the Arête Glacier Initiative to research interventions. His audacious proposal involves freezing the glacier to its bed using ‘thermosyphons’ – devices that would draw heat away from the base through deep drill holes.
Other proposed geoengineering schemes include a giant seabed ‘curtain’ championed by glaciologists Professor John Moore and Dr. Michael Wolovick, designed to block warming ocean currents near the grounding zone. They estimate an 80km (48 mile) curtain could cost around $40-80 billion, emphasizing this is “much lower” than the cost of adapting global coastlines.
While these “glacial climate interventions” face skepticism due to logistical challenges and costs, the choice between these seemingly impossible problems – stabilizing a country-sized ice block or orchestrating mass migrations – weighs heavily on researchers. Minchew believes dealing with sea-level rise for coastal populations is “closer to impossible,” underscoring the urgency of exploring intervention ideas.
The Bittersweet Privilege
Dr. Naughten remains more skeptical, noting that Thwaites is “only one source of sea-level rise,” and the entire Antarctic and Greenland ice sheets are melting. Greenland alone accounts for two-thirds of the sea-level rise since 1992. The sheer scale and cost of such interventions, alongside other climate change adaptations, are significant concerns.
Ultimately, there’s a strong sense that Thwaites’ days are numbered. Even Minchew admits interventions can only “give the world the chance” to adapt at a steadier pace, not offer a final solution. For those working in the field, there’s a bittersweet privilege in witnessing Thwaites in all its splendor. As Dr. Davis puts it, while the challenges are immense, the opportunity to study such a vital and remote place is profound.
The fate of the Thwaites Glacier serves as a stark reminder of our planet’s delicate balance and the profound impact of climate change. Understanding its dynamics and exploring every possible avenue, no matter how unconventional, is crucial for securing a more stable future for millions around the world.
