Ancient mining pollutants in river sediments reveal details of early British economic history

People have been mining in Britain since Neolithic farmers opened the famous Grimes Graves in Norfolk – a large area dotted with over 400 pits up to to 13 metres deep. The target was a layer of high quality black flint in a Cretaceous limestone known as The Chalk. Later Bronze Age people in Wales and Cornwall drove mine shafts deeper underground to extract copper and tin ores to make the alloy bronze. The Iron Age added iron ore to the avid search for sources of metals. The production and even export of metals and ores eventually attracted the interest of Rome. Roman invasion in 43 CE during the reign of Claudius annexed most of England and Wales to create the province of Britannia. This lasted until the complete withdrawal of Roman forces around 410 CE. Roman imperialism and civilisation depended partly on lead for plumbing and silver coinage to pay its legionaries. Consequently, an important aspect in Rome’s four-century hegemony was mining, especially for lead ore, as far north as the North Pennines. This littered the surface in mining areas with toxic waste. Silver occurs in lead ore in varying proportions. In the Bronze Age early metallurgists extracted silver from smelted, liquid lead by a process known as cupellation. The molten Pb-Ag alloy is heated in air to a much higher temperature than its melting point, when lead reacts with oxygen to form a solid oxide (PbO) and silver remains molten.

Mine waste in the North Pennine orefield of England. Credit: North Pennines National Landscape

Until recently, historians believed that the fall of the Western Empire brought economic collapse to Britain. Yet archaeologists have revealed that what was originally called the “Dark Ages” (now Early Medieval Period) had a thriving culture among both the remaining Britons and Anglo Saxon immigrants. A means of tracking economic activity is to measure the amount of pollutants from mining waste at successive levels in the alluvium of rivers that flow through orefields. Among the best known in Britain is the North Pennine Orefield of North Yorkshire and County Durham through which substantial rivers flow eastwards, such as the River Ure that flows through the heavily mined valley of Wensleydale. A first attempt at such geochemical archaeology has been made by a British team led by Christopher Loveluck of Nottingham University (Loveluck, C.P. and 10 others 2025. Aldborough and the metals economy of northern England, c. AD 345–1700: a new post-Roman narrative. Antiquity: FirstView, online article; DOI: 10.15184/aqy.2025.10175). Aldborough in North Yorkshire – sited on the Romano-British town of Isurium Brigantum – lies in the Vale of York, a large alluvial plain. The River Ure has deposited sands, silts and muds in the area since the end of the last Ice Age, 11 thousand years ago.

Loveluck et al. extracted a 6 m core from the alluvium on the outskirts of Aldborough, using radiocarbon and optically-stimulated luminescence of quartz grains to calibrate depth to age in the sediments.  The base of the core is Mesolithic in age (~6400 years ago) and extends upwards to modern times, apparently in an unbroken sequence. Samples were taken for geochemical analysis every 2 cm through the upper 1.12 m of the core, which spans the Roman occupation (43 to 410 CE), the early medieval (420 to 1066 CE), medieval (1066 to 1540 CE), post-medieval (1540 to 1750 CE) and modern times (1750 CE to present). Each sample was analysed for 56 elements using mass spectrometry; lead, silver, copper, zinc, iron and arsenic being the elements of most interest in this context. Other data gleaned from the sediment are those of pollen, useful in establishing climate and ecological changes. Unfortunately, the metal data begin in 345 CE, three centuries after the Roman invasion, by which time occupation and acculturation were well established. The authors assume that Romans began the mining in the North Pennines. They say nothing about the pre-mining levels of pollution from the upstream orefield nor mining conducted by the Iron Age Brigantes. For this kind of survey, it is absolutely essential that a baseline is established for the pollution levels under purely natural conditions. The team could have analysed sediment from the Mesolithic when purely natural weathering, erosion and transport could safely be assumed, but they seem not to have done that.

The team has emphasised that their data suggest that mining for lead continued and even increased through the ‘Dark Ages’ rather than declining, in an economic ‘slump’ once the Romans left, as previous historians have suggested. Lead pollution continued at roughly the same levels as during the Roman occupation through the Early Medieval Period and then rose to up to three times higher after the late 14th century. The data for silver are different. The Ag data from Aldborough show a large ‘spike’ in 427 to 427 CE. Interestingly this is after the Roman withdrawal. Its level in alluvium then ‘flatlines’ at low abundances until the beginning of the 14th century when again there is a series of ‘booms’. This seems to me to mark sudden spells of coining, after the Romans left perhaps first to ensure a money economy remained possible, and then as a means of funding wars with the French in the 14th century. The authors also found changing iron abundances, which roughly double from low Roman levels to an Early Medieval peak and then fall in the 11th century: a result perhaps of local iron smelting. The overall patterns for zinc and copper differ substantially from those of lead, as does that for arsenic which roughly follows the trend for iron. That might indicate that local iron production was based on pyrite (FeS2) which can contain arsenic at moderate concentrations: pyrite is a common mineral in the ore bodies of the North Pennines’ The paper by Loveluck et al. is worth reading as a first attempt to correlate stratigraphic geochemistry data with episodes in British and, indeed, wider European history. But I think it has several serious flaws, beyond the absence of any pre-Roman geochemical baseline, as noted above. No data are presented for barium (Ba) and fluorine (F) derived from the gangue minerals baryte (BaSO4) and fluorite (CaF2), which outweigh lead and zinc sulfides in North Pennine ore bodies, yet had no use value until the Industrial Revolution. They would have made up a substantial proportion of mine spoil heaps – useful ores would have been picked out before disposal of gangue – whose erosion, comminution and transport would make contributions to downstream deposition of alluvium consistent with the pace of mining. That is: Ba and F data would be far better guides to industrial activity. There is a further difficulty with such surveys in northern Britain. The whole of the upland areas were subjected to repeated glaciation, which would have gathered exposed ore and gangue and dumped it in till, especially in the numerous moraines exposed in valleys such as Wensleydale. Such sources may yield sediment in periods of naturally high erosion during floods. Finally, the movement of sediment downstream is obviously not immediate, especially when waste is disposed in large dumps near mines Therefore phases of active mining may not contribute increased toxic waste far downstream until decades or even centuries later. These factors could easily have been clarified by a baseline study from earlier archaeological periods when mining was unlikely, into which the Aldborough alluvium core penetrates

Human interventions in geological processes

During the Industrial Revolution not only did the emission of greenhouse gases by burning fossil fuels start to increase exponentially, but so too did the movement of rock and sediment to get at those fuels and other commodities demanded by industrial capital. In the 21st century about 57 billion tons of geological materials are deliberately moved each year. Global population followed the same trend, resulting in increasing expansion of agriculture to produce food. Stripped of its natural cover on every continent soil began to erode at exponential rates too. The magnitude of human intervention in natural geological cycles has become stupendous, soil erosion now shifting on a global scale about 75 billion tons of sediment, more than three times the estimated natural rate of surface erosion. Industrial capital together with society as a whole also creates and dumps rapidly growing amounts of solid waste of non-geological provenance. The Geological Society of America’s journal Geology recently published two research papers that document how capital is transforming the Earth.

Dust Bowl conditions on the Minnesota prairies during the 1930s.

One of the studies is based on sediment records in the catchment of a tributary of the upper Mississippi River. The area is surrounded by prairie given over mainly to wheat production since the mid 19th century. The deep soil of the once seemingly limitless grassland developed by the prairie ecosystem is ideal for cereal production. In the first third of the 20th century the area experienced a burst of erosion of the fertile soil that resulted from the replacement of the deep root systems of prairie grasses by shallow rooted wheat. The soil had formed from the glacial till deposited by the Laurentide ice sheet than blanketed North America as far south as New York and Chicago. Having moved debris across almost 2000 km of low ground, the till is dominated by clay- and silt-sized particles. Once exposed its sediments moved easily in the wind. Minnesota was badly affected by the ‘Dust Bowl’ conditions of the 1930s, to the extent that whole towns were buried by up to 4.5 metres of aeolian sediment. For the first time the magnitude of soil erosion compared with natural rates has been assessed precisely by dating layers of alluvium deposited in river terraces of one of the Mississippi’s tributaries  (Penprase, S.B. et al. 2025. Plow versus Ice Age: Erosion rate variability from glacial–interglacial climate change is an order of magnitude lower than agricultural erosion in the Upper Mississippi River Valley, USA. Geology, v. 53, p. 535-539; DOI: 10.1130/G52585.1).

Shanti Penprase of the University of Minnesota and her colleagues were able to date the last time sediment layers at different depths in terraces were exposed to sunlight and cosmic rays, by analysing optically stimulated luminescence (OSL) and cosmogenic 10Be content of quartz grains from the alluvium. The data span the period since the Last Glacial Maximum 20 thousand years ago during which the ecosystem evolved from bare tundra through re-vegetation to pre-settlement prairie. They show that post-glacial natural erosion had proceeded at around 0.05 mm yr-1 from a maximum of 0.07 when the Laurentide Ice Sheet was at its maximum extent. Other studies have revealed that after the area was largely given over to cereal production in the 19th century erosion rates leapt to as high as 3.5 mm yr-1 with a median rate of 0.6 mm yr-1, 10 to 12 times that of post-glacial times. It was the plough and single-crop farming introduced by non-indigenous settlers that accelerated erosion. Surprisingly, advances in prairie agriculture since the Dust Bowl have not resulted in any decrease in soil erosion rates, although wind erosion is now insignificant. The US Department of Agriculture considers the loss of one millimetre per year to be ‘tolerable’: 14 times higher than the highest natural rate in glacial times.

The other paper has a different focus: how human activities may form solid rock. The world over, a convenient means of disposing of unwanted material in coastal areas is simply to dump waste in the sea. That has been happening for centuries, but as for all other forms of anthropogenic waste disposal the volumes have increased at an exponential rate. The coast of County Durham in Britain began to experience marine waste disposal when deep mines were driven into Carboniferous Coal Measures hidden by the barren Permian strata that rest unconformably upon them. Many mines extended eastwards beneath the North Sea, so it was convenient to dump 1.5 million tons of waste rock annually at the seaside. The 1971 gangster film Get Carter starring Michael Caine includes a sequence showing ‘spoil’ pouring onto the beach below Blackhall colliery, burying the corpse of Carter’s rival. The nightmarish, 20 km stretch of grossly polluted beach between Sunderland and Hartlepool also provided a backdrop for Alien 3. Historically, tidal and wave action concentrated the low-density coal in the waste at the high-water mark, to create a free resource for locals in the form of ‘sea coal’ as portrayed in Tom Scott Robson’s 1966 documentary Low Water. Closure of the entire Duham coalfield in the 1980s and ‘90s halted this pollution and the coast is somewhat restored – at a coast of around £10 million.

‘Anthropoclastic’ conglomerate formed from iron-smelting slag dumped on the West Cumbrian coast. It incorporates artefacts as young as the 1980s, showing that it was lithified rapidly. Credit: Owen et al, Supplementary Figure 2

On the West Cumbrian coast of Britain another industry dumped millions of tons of waste into the sea. In the case it was semi-molten ‘slag’ from iron-smelting blast furnaces poured continuously for 130 years until steel-making ended in the 1980s. Coastal erosion has broken up and spread an estimated 27 million cubic metres of slag along a 2 km stretch of beach. Astonishingly this debris has turned into a stratum of anthropogenic conglomerate sufficiently well-bonded to resist storms (Owen, A., MacDonald, J.M. & Brown, D.J 2025. Evidence for a rapid anthropoclastic rock cycle. Geology, v. 53, p. 581–586; DOI: 10.1130/G52895.1). The conglomerate is said by the authors to be a product of ‘anthropoclastic’ processes. Its cementation involves minerals such as goethite, calcite and brucite. Because the conglomerate contains car tyres, metal trouser zips, aluminium ring-pulls from beer cans and even coins lithification has been extremely rapid. One ring-pull has a design that was not used in cans until 1989, so lithification continued in the last 35 years.

Furnace slag ‘floats’ on top of smelted iron and incorporates quartz, clays and other mineral grains in iron ore into anhydrous calcium- and magnesium-rich aluminosilicates. This purification is achieved deliberately by including limestone as a fluxing agent in the furnace feed. The high temperature reactions are similar to those that produce aluminosilicates when cement is manufactured. Like them, slag breaks down in the presence of water to recrystallis in hydrated form to bond the conglomerate. This is much the same manner as concrete ‘sets’ over a few days and weeks to bind together aggregate. There is vastly more ‘anthropoclastic’ rock in concrete buildings and other modern infrastructure. Another example is tarmac that coats millions of kilometres of highway.

See also: Howell, E. 2025. Modern farming has carved away earth faster than during the ice age. Science, v. 388

Did the Meteor Crater impact in Arizona dam the Grand Canyon 56 thousand years ago?

Meteor Crater, Arizona, USA. Credit: Travel in USA

Meteor Crater, 60 km east of Flagstaff in Arizona, USA, is probably the most visited site of an impact by an extraterrestrial object. At 1.3 km across it isn’t especially big, but it is exceptionally well preserved, having formed a mere 55.6 ka ago. Apart from its shape its impact origin is proved by its rim, which shows overturning and inversion of strata that it penetrated. The 40 metre  diameter nickel-iron object that did the damage arrived at a speed around 13 km s-1 and delivered kinetic energy equivalent to an explosion of 10 million tons of TNT. This was sufficient to vaporise the body, except for a few fragments. Impressive as that is, the impact was tiny compared with others known on Earth, such as the Chicxulub impact that ended the Mesozoic Era 60 Ma ago. Nevertheless, the surface blast would have sterilised an area up to 1000 km2 around the impact, i.e. up to 17 km in all directions. Yet, most of the impact energy would have affected the surrounding crust. It’s a place worth visiting.

The other must-see site in northern Arizona is the Grand Canyon, some 100 km north of Flagstaff by train, and about 320 km by road. Unlike Meteor Crater, whose origins were well established  more than 50 years ago, the Grand Canyon still draws research teams to study the geology of the rock formations through which it cuts and the geomorphological processes that formed it. Several expeditions have examined caves high above the level of the Colorado River that has cut the Canyon since the start of the Pliocene Epoch, some 5 Ma ago. One objective of this research has been to document past flooding, due to the massive landslides and rock falls that must have occurred as cliffs became unstable during canyon formation. One cave – Stanton’s Cave – is 45 m above the present level of the Colorado: about the height of a 16 storey block of flats. The cave floor is made of well-bedded sand that contains driftwood logs, as do other caves along the canyon. Dating the logs from cave to cave should give at least an idea of the history of flooding and thus cliff collapses. In the case of Stanton’s Cave early radiocarbon dating yielded results close to the maximum that the rapid decay of 14C makes possible. Such dating at the limit of the technique is imprecise. The oldest existing radiocarbon age in this case is 43.5 ± 1.5 ka from a 1984 study. Since then, this dating technique has advanced considerably.

Fig Remnants of a landslide, subsequently breached, in the Grand Canyon downstream of Stanton’s Cave. Credit: Richard Hereford

Karl Karlstrom – whose father was also entranced by cave deposits in the Grand Canyon in the 1960s – together with colleagues from the US managed to persuade radiocarbon specialists from Australia and New Zealand to improve the sediment dating (Karlstrom, K.E and 11 others 2025. Grand Canyon landslide-dam and paleolake triggered by the Meteor Crater impact at 56 ka. Geology, v. 53, online article; DOI: 10.1130/G53571.1). The new 14Cage of the logs is  55.25 ± 2.44 ka, confirmed by infrared stimulated luminescence (IRSL) dating of feldspar grains in the cave sand at  56.00 ± 6.39 ka  Combined with a new cosmogenic nuclide exposure age of 56.00 ± 2.40 ka  for the Meteor Crater ejecta the results are exciting. It looks as if the cliff fall that dammed the Colorado River to fill the cave with sediment coincided with the impact. Crater formation is estimated to have resulted in a seismic event of magnitude 5.4. In such a teetering terrain as the Grand Canyon cliffs, the impact-induced earthquake about 100 km away, even if attenuated to an effective magnitude estimated at 3.5  may have been sufficient to topple part of the cliffs. With cliffs that average 1.6 km high, such a collapse would have displaced sufficient debris to create a substantial barrier to flow of the Colorado River, which is tightly constrained between cliffs. The chaotic debris at the suggested dam site is now partly covered by round river cobbles, suggesting that it was soon overtopped, probably within a thousand years of the cliff collapse.

Because all the dates have substantial imprecision, it is not possible to claim that the authors have proved conclusively a direct connection between impact and cliff collapse. But neither do the age data disprove what is a plausible causal connection.

See also: UNM study finds link between Grand Canyon landslide and Meteor Crater impact. University of New Mexico News 15 July 2025

A cure for the Great British Pothole Plague?

Anyone who read the manifestos of the mainstream political parties in the UK – there may not be many who did – would have been amused to see that all promised to resolve the plague of potholes in the countries roads, both major and minor. For decades road users have been alarmed when hitting a pothole and in some cases had damage inflicted on their vehicles, and in the case of those on two wheels, on themselves. The RAC (Royal Automobile Club) has estimated that there are, on average, six potholes per mile on Britain’s roads: the greatest density in Europe. The AA (Automobile Association) estimated that almost £0.6 billion was spent in 2024 repairing pothole-damaged vehicles. This is not a new phenomenon. Before the advent of turnpike trusts in the late 18th century, which maintained roads travelled by Britain’s mail coach services, it was not uncommon to encounter potholes up to two metres deep. Legend has it that on one such route through northern Nottinghamshire two coach horses fell into a pothole and drowned. Scottish engineer, John Loudon McAdam invented a solution around 1820: crushed stone laid on the road surface in slightly convex layers, the topmost being bonded with stone dust. This ‘macadam’ surface created cambered highways that drained rainwater to the sides and downwards. Modern roads are still based on that principle, with the addition of tar or bitumen to the top layer to produce a hard, impermeable surface, which also prevents aggregate and dust being sucked from the surface by fast moving vehicles.

A spore of the club moss Lycopodium

So, why the potholes? Several reasons: increased traffic; heavier vehicles; less maintenance; patching rather than resurfacing. Most important: the materials and the weather. Dry, hot weather softens the bitumen and drives out volatile hydrocarbons making the bitumen less plastic. The pounding of tyres in cooler weather fractures the now stiffened bitumen, mainly at microscopic scales. Wetting of the tarmac seeps water into the microfractures. The formation of ice films jacks opens the microfractures and produces more in the cold stiff bitumen, eventually to separate the particles of aggregate in the asphalt. The wearing course begins to crumble so that aggregate grains escape and scatter. Thus weakened, the top layer breaks up into larger fragments and a pit forms to join up with others so that a pothole forms and grows. Wheels of traffic bounce when they cross a pothole, the shock of which causes the centre of degradation to shift and create more cavities. Simply filling the existing potholes merely serves to create new ones: a vicious cycle that can only be broken by complete resurfacing: the traffic cones come out!.

All this has been known for well over a century by civil engineers. Around the start of the 21st century – maybe slightly earlier – it dawned on engineers that the critical problem was degradation of bitumen. A petroleum derivative, occurring naturally as surface seeps in some oilfields, bitumen is chemically complex: a combination of asphaltenes and maltenes (resins and oils). Deterioration of bitumen through evaporation, oxidation and exposure to ultraviolet radiation decreases the maltene content and stiffens the binding agent in asphalt. So the earliest attempts at reducing pothole formation centred on rejuvenation by periodically adding substitutes for maltenes to road surfaces. Diesel (gas-oil) works, but is obviously hazardous. More suitable are vegetable oils such as waste cooking oils or those produced by pyrolysis of cotton, straw, wood waste and even animal manure. The problem is getting the rejuvenators into existing asphalt surfaces: clearly, simply spraying them on the surface seems a recipe for disaster! A solution that dawned on engineers around 2005 was to make bitumen that is ‘self-healing’.

Schematic of the production of microcapsules from club moss spores to contain sunflower oil to be used in self-healing asphalt (Credit: Alpizar-Reyes, E. et al. 2022)

Simply mixing rejuvenators into bitumen during asphalt manufacture will not do the trick, for the result would be a weakened binding agent at the outset. For the last 15 years researchers have sought means of adding rejuvenators in  porous capsules, to release them as microfractures begin to form: on demand, as it were. There have been dozens of publications about experiments that found ‘sticking points’. However, in early 2025 what seems to be a viable breakthrough splashed in the British press. It was made by an interdisciplinary team of scientists from King’s College London and Swansea University, in collaboration with scientists in Chile. They chemically treated spores of Lycopodium club mosses to perforate their cell walls and clear out their contents to be replaced by sunflower oil, an effective bitumen rejuvenator. Experiments showed that such microcapsules released the oil to heal cracks in aged  bitumen samples in around an hour. Mixed into bitumen to be added to asphalt they would remain ‘dormant’ until a microfracture formed in their vicinity released it, thereby making the asphalt binder self healing.

Will such an advance finally resolve the pothole plague? It may take a while …

See: Alpizar-Reyes, E. et al. 2022. Biobased spore microcapsules for asphalt self-healing. ACS Applied Materials & Interfaces, v. 14, p. 31296-31311; DOI: 10.1021/acsami.2c07301

A fully revised edition of Steve Drury’s book Stepping Stones: The Making of Our Home World can now be downloaded as a free eBook

A major breakthrough in carbon capture and storage?

Carbon capture and storage is in the news most weeks and is increasingly on the agenda for some governments. But plans to implement the CCS approach to reducing and stopping global warming increasingly draws scorn from scientists and environmental campaigners. There is a simple reason for their suspicion. State engagement, in the UK and other rich countries, involves major petroleum companies that developed the oil and gas fields responsible for unsustainably massive injection of CO2 into the atmosphere. Because they have ‘trousered’ stupendous profits they are a tempting source for the financial costs of pumping CO2 into porous sedimentary rocks that once contained hydrocarbon reserves. Not only that, they have conducted such sequestration over decades to drive out whatever petroleum fluids remaining in previously tapped sedimentary strata. For that second reason, many oil companies are eager and willing to comply with governmental plans, thereby seeming to be environmentally ‘friendly’. It also tallies with their ambitions to continue making profits from fossil-fuel extraction. But isn’t that simply a means of replacing the sequestered greenhouse gas with more of it generated by burning the recovered oil and natural gas; i.e. ‘kicking the can down the road’? Being a gas – technically a ‘free phase’ – buried CO2 also risks leaking back to the atmosphere through fractures in the reservoir rock. Indeed, some potential sites for its sequestration have been deliberately made more gas-permeable by ‘fracking’ as a means of increasing the yield of petroleum-rich rock. Finally, a litre of injected gas can drive out pretty much the same volume of oil. So this approach to CCS may yield a greater potential for greenhouse warming than would the sequestered carbon dioxide itself.

Image of calcite (white) and chlorite (cyan) formed in porous basalt due to CO2-charged water-rock interaction at the CarbFix site in Iceland. (Credit: Sandra Ósk Snæbjörnsdóttir)

Another, less widely publicised approach is to geochemically bind CO2 into solid carbonates, such as calcite (CaCO­3), dolomite (CaMgCO3), or magnesite (MgCO3). Once formed such crystalline solids are unlikely to break down to their component parts at the surface, under water or buried. One way of doing this is by the chemical weathering of rocks that contain calcium- and magnesium-rich minerals, such as feldspar (CaAl2Si2O8), olivine ([Fe,Mg]2SiO4) and pyroxene ([Fe,Mg]CaSi2O6) . Mafic and ultramafic rocks, such as basalt and peridotite are commonly composed of such minerals. One approach involves pumping the gas into a Icelandic borehole that passes through basalt and letting natural reactions do the trick. They give off heat and proceed quickly, very like those involved in the setting of concrete. In two experimental field trials 95% of injected CO2 was absorbed within 18 months. Believe it or not, ants can do the trick with crushed basalt and so too can plant roots. There have been recent experiments aimed at finding accelerants for such subsurface weathering (Wang, J. et al. 2024. CO2 capture, geological storage, and mineralization using biobased biodegradable chelating agents and seawater. Science Advances, v. 10, article eadq0515; DOI: 10.1126/sciadv.adq0515). In some respects the approach is akin to fracking. The aim is to connect isolated natural pores to allow fluids to permeate rock more easily, and to release metal ions to combine with injected CO2.

Chelating agents are biomolecules that are able to dissolve metal ions; some are used to remove toxic metals, such as lead, mercury and cadmium, from the bodies of people suffering from their effects. Naturally occurring ones extract metal ions from minerals and rocks and are agents of chemical weathering; probably used by the aforesaid ants and root systems. Wang and colleagues, based at Tohoku University in Japan, chose a chelating agent GLDA (tetrasodium glutamate diacetate –  C9H9NNa4O8) derived from plants, which is non-toxic, cheap and biodegradable. They injected CO2 and seawater containing dissolved GDLA into basaltic rock samples. The GDLA increases the rock’s porosity and permeability by breaking down its minerals so that Ca and Mg ions entered solution and were thereby able to combine with the gas to form carbonate minerals. Within five days porosity was increased by 16% and the rocks permeability increased by 26 times. Using electron microscopy the authors were able to show fine particles of carbonate growing in the connected pores. In fact these carbonate aggregates become coated with silica released by the induced mineral-weathering reactions. Calculations based on the previously mentioned field experiment in Iceland suggest that up to 20 billion tonnes of CO2 could be stored in 1.3 km3 of basalt treated in this way: about 1/25000 of the active rift system in Iceland (3.3 x 104 km2 covered by 1 km of basalt lava). In 2023 fossil fuel use emitted an estimated 36.6 bllion tons of CO2 into the atmosphere.

So, why do such means of efficiently reducing the greenhouse effect not receive wide publicity by governments or the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change? Answers on a yellow PostIt™ please . . .

The prospect of climate chaos following major volcano eruptions

It hardly needs saying that volcanoes present a major hazard to people living in close proximity. The inhabitants of the Roman cities of Herculaneum and Pompeii in the shadow of Vesuvius were snuffed out by an incandescent pyroclastic during the 79 CE eruption of the volcano. Since December 2023 long-lasting eruptions from the Sundhnúksgígar crater row on the Reykjanes Penisula of Iceland have driven the inhabitants of nearby Grindavík from their homes, but no injuries or fatalities have been reported. Far worse was the 1815 eruption of Tambora on Sumbawa, Indonesia, when at least 71,000 people perished. But that event had much wider consequences, which lasted into 1817 at least. As well as an ash cloud the huge plume from Tambora injected 28 million tons of sulfur dioxide into the stratosphere. In the form of sulfuric acid aerosols, this reflected so much solar energy back into space that the Northern Hemisphere cooled by 1° C, making 1816 ‘the year without a summer’. Crop failures in Europe and North America doubled grain prices, leading to widespread social unrest and economic depression. That year also saw unusual weather in India culminate in a cholera outbreak, which spread to unleash the 1817 global pandemic. Tambora is implicated in a global death toll in the tens of millions. Thanks to the record of sulfur in Greenland ice cores it has proved possible to link past volcanic action to historic famines and epidemics, such as the Plague of Justinian in 541 CE. If they emit large amounts of sulfur gases volcanic eruptions can result in sudden global climatic downturns.

The ash plume towering above Pinatubo volcano in the Philippines on 12 June 1991, which rose to 40 km (Credit: Karin Jackson U.S. Air Force)

With this in mind Markus Stoffel, Christophe Corona and Scott St. George of the University of Geneva, Switzerland, CNRS, Grenoble France and global insurance brokers WTW, London, respectively, have published a Comment in Nature warning of this kind of global hazard (Stoffel, M., Corona, C. & St. George, S. 2024.  The next massive volcano eruption will cause climate chaos — we are unprepared. Nature v. 635, p. 286-289; DOI: 10.1038/d41586-024-03680-z). The crux of their argument is that there has been nothing approaching the scale of Tambora for the last two centuries. The 1991 eruption of Pinatubo fed the stratosphere with just over a quarter of Tambora’s complement of SO2, and decreased global temperatures by around 0.6°C during 1991-2. Should one so-called Decade Volcanoes – those located in densely populated areas, such as Vesuvius – erupt within the next five years actuaries at Lloyd’s of London estimate economic impacts of US$ 3 trillion in the first year and US$1.5 trillion over the following years. But that is based on just the local risk of ash falls, lava and pyroclastic flows, mud slides and lateral collapse, not global climatic effects. So, a Tambora-sized or larger event is not countenanced by the world’s most famous insurance underwriter: probably because its economic impact is incalculable. Yet the chances of such a repeat certainly are conceivable. A 60 ka record of sulfate in the Greenland ice cores allows the probability of eruptions on the scale of Tambora to be estimated. The data suggest that there is a one-in-six chance that one will occur somewhere during the 21st century, but not necessarily at a site judged by volcanologists to be precarious . Nobody expected the eruption from the Pacific Ocean floor of the Hunga Tonga-Hunga Ha’apai volcano on January 15, 2022: the largest in the last 30 years.

The authors insist that climate-changing eruptions now need to be viewed in the context of anthropogenic global warming. Superficially, it might seem that a few volcanic winters and years without a summer could be a welcome, albeit short-term, solution. However, Stoffel, Corona and St. George suggest that the interaction of a volcano-induced global cooling with climatic processes would probably be very complex. Global warming heats the lower atmosphere and cools the stratosphere. Such steady changes will affect the height to which explosive volcanic plumes may reach. Atmospheric circulation patterns are changing dramatically as the weather of 2024 seems to show. The same may be said for ocean currents that are changing as sea-surface temperatures increase. Superimposing volcano-induced cooling of the sea surface adds an element of chaos to what is already worrying. What if a volcanic winter coincided with an el Niño event? The Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change that projects climate changes is ‘flying blind’ as regards volcanic cooling. Another issue is that our knowledge of the effects in 1815 of Tambora concerned a very different world from ours: a global population then that was eight times smaller than now; very different patterns of agriculture and habitation; a world with industrial production on a tiny proportion of the continental surface. Stoffel, Corona and St. George urge the IPCC to shed light on this major blind spot. Climate modellers need to explore the truly worst-case scenarios since a massive volcanic eruption is bound to happen one day. Unlike global warming from greenhouse-gas emission, there is absolutely nothing that can be done to avert another Tambora.

A 9-day seismic reverberation set off by a giant tsunami in a Greenland fjord

In September 2023 the global network of seismic recorders detected a sequence of low-strength earth movements. It resembled the reverberation of a church bell albeit one that lasted for 9 days. rising and falling in strength every 90 seconds. For months this strange event on seismograms baffled geophysicists. All they could tell was that the signals did not show signs of having been generated by earthquakes; they were too regular. It was, however, possible to triangulate the position of the source of each individual event. There turned out to be only a single location for the seismic ‘campanology’ – at about 73° N on the eastern coast of Greenland, in Dickson Fjord and isolated branch of the enormous Kong Oscar Fjord system. Greenland is not noted for volcanic activity, ruling out the rumblings of a magma chamber that sometimes presages major eruptions. Whatever the cause, there were no human witnesses at the time. The only real clue lay at the start of the signal: the very long-period (VLP) signal was preceded by a sharp, high energy signal that could be matched with some kind of landslide.

View of a side glacier on Dickson Fjord, East Greenland where the tsunami occurred. Left – August 2023; right – 19 September 2023. The rocky peak at top centre on the left fell onto the glacier below to generate a rock-ice slide into the fjord. (Credit: Søren Rysgaard/Danish Army)

On 16 September 2023 the military base for the famous Sirius Dog Sled Patrol on Ella Island was smashed by a tsunami – fortunately it had been closed for the coming winter. When the Danish Navy patrolled Dickson Fjord some days later they found clear signs that the shores opposite the site of a recent colossal rock and ice slide (see images) had been scoured to a height of 200 m. For 5 km either side shoreline scouring averaged 60 m. The initial tsunami was gigantic, yet the fjord was able to contain its worst effects because the outlet to the rest of the system was at right angles to its trend. Some energy obviously was released to reach Ella Island near the mouth of the system to destroy the Danish Army post. The bizarre seismic signal was probably a result of the displaced water sloshing around in the fjord to dissipate the enormous energy released by the collapse of a mountain peak and a substantial amount of a valley glacier. Such behaviour is known as a seiche. Topographic analysis of Dickson Fjord enabled the researchers to calculate its resonant frequency: at 11 millihertz it matched that of the fluctuating seismic signal. (Svennevig, K. and 67 others 2024. A rockslide-generated tsunami in a Greenland fjord rang Earth for 9 days. Science, v. 385, p. 1196-1205; DOI: 10.1126/science.adm9247).

Valley glaciers in Greenland bolster their rocky flanks against collapse. With climatic warming being much faster there than for the rest of the world, its almost innumerable valley glaciers are shrinking. Yet they have been eroding the crust for tens of thousand years. The fjords that they occupied at the height of the last glacial maximum have very steep sides. Likewise, the remaining glaciers have carved U-shaped valleys. So when the glaciers retreat their exposed flanks become gravitationally unstable. Despite the fact that much of Greenland is underpinned by very hard crystalline rocks, that presents a major hazard for water craft. East Greenland’s spectacular scenery draws many tourist cruisers and Innuit fishing boats each summer. Moreover, removal of the ice load allows elastic strain that had built up in the upper crust to be released along joint systems that further weaken resistance to collapse.

A great deal of publicity has been given to the rapid melting of the huge ice sheet that covers most of Greenland. That is currently the biggest contributor to sea-level rise: a few millimetres per year. The Dickson Fjord event highlights the potential deadly threat of deglaciation, although the extremely complex nature of most of its fjord systems may prevent regional tsunamis from escaping their damping effect. Bu there are increasing dangers from the largest, more open fjords, such as Scoresby Sund, which conceivably might blurt catastrophic tsunamis towards Iceland, Svalbard and the west coast of Norway. Even small ones could wreak havoc on wildlife, such as seal and walrus nurseries.

See also: Carrillo-Ponce, A. et al. 2024. The 16 September 2023 Greenland Megatsunami: Analysis and Modeling of the Source and a Week‐Long, Monochromatic Seismic Signal. The Seismic Record, v. 4, p. 172-183; DOI: 10.1785/0320240013; Le Page, M. 2024. Greenland landslide caused freak wave that shook Earth for nine days. New Scientist 12 September 2024

Earthquakes and flooding in the Ganges Basin

Floods pose a huge threat to the large populations of West Bengal, India and the state of Bangladesh, particularly in the highly fertile fluvio-deltaic plains of the Ganges and Brahmaputra. The two river systems drain 2 million km2 of the Eastern Himalaya of annual monsoon rains and snow melt, the first flowing west to east and the latter from east to west at the apex of the low-lying Bengal Basin. The 400 million people subsisting in the 105 thousand km2 onshore basin make it the world’s most populous delta plain with one of the highest population densities, averaging 1,100 per square kilometre in 2019. The risk of catastrophic flooding is generally ascribed to unusually high monsoonal precipitation and snow melt, combined with storm surges from the Bay of Bengal that funnels tropical cyclones. But either can bring inundation. Another factor has recently been proposed as an addition to flood hazard: earthquakes near the basin (Chamberlain, E.L and 12 others 2024. Cascading hazards of a major Bengal basin earthquake and abrupt avulsion of the Ganges River. Nature Communications, v. 15, online article 4975; DOI: 10.1038/s41467-024-47786-4). It seems they can completely and suddenly change the flow networks in such a complex system of major channels.

Using remotely sensed data Elizabeth Chamberlain, currently at Wageningen University in the Netherlands, and colleagues from Bangladesh, the US, Germany and Austria have detected an immense abandoned channel in the Ganges River. They reckon that it resulted from a sudden change in the river’s course. Such avulsions in the sluggish lower parts of a river system are generally caused by the flow becoming elevated above the flood plain by levees. When they burst free the channel may be abandoned. This one is 1.0 to 1.7 km wide and may have been the main Ganges channel at the time of avulsion. The main channel now flows about 45 km north of the abandoned relic. The event must have been sudden and irreversible as the relic channel contains a much thinner layer of fine mud deposited by stagnant water than in other abandoned channels that became ox-bow lakes. That implies rapid uplift and complete drainage from the channel. Throughout the Bengal Basin the immense high-water discharge and heavy sediment load seems generally to have infilled most abandoned channels, so this one is an anomaly.

Sand dykes along fractures in river alluvium of the Bengal Basin. (Credit: Chamberlain et al. Figs 3c and 3d)

Fieldwork near the old channel reveals fracturing of earlier riverbed sediments some of which are filled by intrusions of sand in the form of dykes up to 40 cm wide. Sand dykes are produced by liquefaction of sandy alluvium by seismic waves to slurry that can be injected into fractures pulled apart by seismic movements. The channel is now about 3 m below the level of the floodplain, suggesting subsidence since the avulsion event. Optically stimulated luminescence dating of sediment grains from the uppermost channel sands yielded ages averaging around 2.5 ka, marking the time when the sudden event took place. The authors consider that it marked a major reorganisation of the Ganges River system, involving catastrophic flooding. The nearest seismically active area is about 180 to 300 km to the east and northeast. Seismic modelling suggests that for liquefaction and fracturing to have affected the area of the abandoned channel the earthquake must have been of magnitude 7.5–8.0, possibly in the subduction zone that roughly follows the Bangladesh-Myanmar border. It may have had similar, yet to be demonstrated, effects throughout the eastern Bengal Basin.

There are no historic records of more recent massive earthquake-induced flooding of the Bengal Basin. However, global warming and growing human intervention in the Ganges-Brahmaputra river systems, such as large-scale dredging and industrialisation could make such events more likely. Other basins close to seismically active fault systems, such as the Yangtze and Yellow River basins of China, also face such risks.

Many thanks to  Piso Mojado for giving me the tip about this paper

How did African humans survive the 74 ka Toba volcanic supereruption?

The largest volcanic eruption during the 2.5 million year evolution of the genius Homo, about 74 thousand years (ka) ago, formed a huge caldera in Sumatra, now filled by Lake Toba. A series of explosions lasting just 9 to 14 days was forceful enough to blast between 2,800 to 6,000 km3 of rocky debris from the crust. An estimated 800 km3 was in the form of fine volcanic ash that blanketed South Asia to a depth of 15 cm. Thin ash layers containing shards of glass from Toba occur in marine sediments beneath the Indian Ocean, the Arabian and South China Seas. Some occur as far off as sediments on the floor of Lake Malawi in southern Africa. A ‘spike’ of sulfates is present at around 74 ka in a Greenland ice core too. Stratospheric fine dust and sulfate aerosols from Toba probably caused global cooling of up to 3.5 °C over a modelled 5 years following the eruption. To make matters worse, this severe ‘volcanic winter’ occurred during a climatic transition from warm to cold caused by changes in ocean circulation and falling atmospheric CO2 concentration, known as a Dansgaard-Oeschger event.

There had been short-lived migrations of modern humans out of Africa into the Levant since about 185 ka. However, studies of the mitochondrial DNA (mtDNA) of living humans in Eurasia and Australasia suggest that permanent migration began about 60 ka ago. Another outcome of the mtDNA analysis is that the genetic diversity of living humans is surprisingly low. This suggests that human genetic diversity may have been sharply reduced globally roughly around the time of the  Toba eruption. This implies a population bottleneck with the number of humans alive at the time to the order of a few tens of thousands (see also: Toba ash and calibrating the Pleistocene record; December 2012). Could such a major genetic ‘pruning’ have happened in Africa? Over six field seasons, a large team of geoscientists and archaeologists drawn from the USA, Ethiopia, China, France and South Africa have excavated a rich Palaeolithic site in the valley of the Shinfa River, a tributary of the Blue Nile in western Ethiopia. Microscopic studies of the sediments enclosing the site yielded glass shards whose chemistry closely matches those in Toba ash, thereby providing an extremely precise date for the human occupation of the site: during the Toba eruption itself (Kappelman, Y. and 63 others 2024. Adaptive foraging behaviours in the Horn of Africa during Toba supereruption. Nature, v. 627; DOI: 10.1038/s41586-024-07208-3).

Selection of possible arrowheads from the Shinfa River site (Credit: Kappelman et al.; Blue Nile Survey Project)

The artifacts and bones of what these modern humans ate suggest a remarkable scenario for how they lived. Stone tools are finely worked from local basalt lava, quartz and flint-like chalcedony found in cavities in lava flows. Many of them are small, sharp triangular points, some of which show features consistent with their use as projectile tips that fractured on impact; they may be arrowheads, indeed the earliest known. Bones found at the site are key pointers to their diet. They are from a wide variety of animal, roughly similar to those living in the area at present: from monkeys to giraffe, guinea fowl to ostrich, and even frogs. There are remains of many fish and freshwater molluscs. Although there are no traces of plant foods, clearly those people who loved through the distant effects of Toba were well fed. Although a period of global cooling may have increased aridity at tropical latitudes in Africa, the campers were able to devise efficient strategies to obtain victuals. During wet seasons they lived off terrestrial prey animals, and during the driest times ate fish from pools in the river valley. These are hardly conditions likely to devastate their numbers, and the people seem to have been technologically flexible. Similar observations were made at the Pinnacle Point site in far-off South Africa in 2018, where Toba ash is also present. Both sites refute any retardation of human cultural progress 74 ka ago. Rather the opposite: people may have been spurred to innovation, and the new strategies may have allowed them to migrate more efficiently, perhaps along seasonal drainages. In this case that would have led them or their descendants to the Nile and a direct route to Eurasia; along ‘blue highway’ corridors as Kappelman et al. suggest.

Yet the population bottleneck implied by mtDNA analyses is only vaguely dated: it may have been well before or well after Toba. Moreover, there is a 10 ka gap between Toba and the earliest accurately dated migrants who left Africa – the first Australians at about 65 ka. However, note that there is inconclusive evidence that modern humans may have occupied Sumatra by the time of the eruption.  Much closer to the site of the eruption in southeast India, stone artifacts have been found below and above the 74 ka datum marked by the thick Toba Ash. Whether these were discarded by anatomically modern humans or earlier migrants such as Homo erectus remains unresolved. Either way, at that site there is no evidence for any mass die-off, even though conditions must have been pretty dreadful while the ash fell. But that probably only lasted for little more than a month. If the migrants did suffer very high losses to decrease the genetic diversity of the survivors, it seems just as likely to have been due to attrition on an extremely lengthy trek, with little likelihood of tangible evidence surviving. Alternatively, the out-of-Africa migrants may have been small in number and not fully representative of the genetic richness of the Africans who stayed put: a few tens of thousand migrants may not have been very diverse from the outset.

The ‘Anthropocene Epoch’ bites the dust?

The International Commission on Stratigraphy (ICS) issues guidance for the division of geological history that has evolved from the science’s original approach: that was based solely on what could be seen in the field. That included: variations in lithology and the law of superposition; unconformities that mark interruptions through deformation, erosion and renewed deposition; the fossil content of sediments and the law of faunal succession; and more modern means of division, such as geomagnetic changes detected in rock over time. That ‘traditional’ approach to relative time is now termed chronostratigraphy, which has evolved since the 19th century from the local to the global scale as geological research widened its approach. Subsequent development of various kinds of dating has made it possible to suggest the actual, absolute time in the past when various stratigraphic boundaries formed – geochronology. Understandably, both are limited by the incompleteness of the geological record – and the whims of individual geologists. For decades the ICS has been developing a combination of both approaches that directly correlates stratigraphic units and boundaries with accurate geochronological ages. This is revised periodically, the ICS having a detailed protocol for making changes.  You can view the Cenozoic section of the latest version of the International Chronostratigraphic Chart and the two systems of units below. If you are prepared to travel to a lot of very remote places you can see a monument – in some cases an actual Golden Spike – marking the agreed stratigraphic boundary at the ICS-designated type section for 80 of the 93 lower boundaries of every Stage/Age in the Phanerozoic Eon. Each is a sonorously named Global Boundary Stratotype Section and Point or GSSP (see: The Time Lords of Geology, April 2013). There are delegates to various subcommissions and working groups of the ICS from every continent, they are very busy and subject to a mass of regulations

Chronostratigraphic Chart for the Cenozoic Era showing the 5 tiers of stratigraphic time division. The little golden spikes mark where a Global Boundary Stratotype Section and Point monument has been erected at the boundary’s type section.

On 11 May 2011, the Geological Society of London hosted a conference, co-sponsored by the British Geological Survey, to discuss evidence for the dawn of a new geological Epoch: the Anthropocene, supposedly marking the impact of humans on Earth processes. There has been ‘lively debate’ about whether or not such a designation should be adopted. An Epoch is at the 4th tier of the chronostratigraphic/geochronologic systems of division, such as the Holocene, Pleistocene, Pliocene and Miocene, let alone a whole host of such entities throughout the Phanerozoic, all of which represent many orders of magnitude longer spans of time and a vast range of geological events. No currently agreed Epoch lasted less than 11.7 thousand years (the Holocene) and all the others spanned 1 Ma to tens of Ma (averaged at 14.2 Ma). Indeed, even geological Ages (the 5th tier) span a range from hundreds of thousands to millions of years (averaged at 6 Ma). Use ‘Anthropocene’ in Search Earth-logs to read posts that I have written on this proposal since 2011, which outline the various arguments for and against it.

In the third week of May 2019 the 34-member Anthropocene Working Group (AWG) of the ICS convened to decide on when the Anthropocene actually started. The year 1952 was proposed – the date when long-lived radioactive plutonium first appears in sediments before the 1962 International Nuclear Test-Ban Treaty. Incidentally, the AWG proposed a GSSP for the base of the Anthropocene in a sediment core through sediments in the bed of Crawford Lake an hour’s drive west of Toronto, Canada.   After 1952 there are also clear signs that plastics, aluminium, artificial fertilisers, concrete and lead from petrol began to increase in sediments. The AWG accepted this start date (the Anthropocene ‘golden spike’) by a 29 to 5 vote, and passed it into the vertical ICS chain of decision making. This procedure reached a climax on Monday 4 March 2024, at a meeting of the international Subcommission on Quaternary Stratigraphy (SQS): part of the ICS. After a month-long voting period, the SQS announced a 12 to 4 decision to reject the proposal to formally declare the Anthropocene as a new Epoch. Normally, there can be no appeals for a losing vote taken at this level, although a similar proposal may be resubmitted for consideration after a 10 year ‘cooling off’ period. Despite the decisive vote, however, the chair of the SQS, palaeontologist Jan Zalasiewicz of the University of Leicester, UK, and one of the group’s vice-chairs, stratigrapher Martin Head of Brock University, Canada have called for it to be annulled, alleging procedural irregularities with the lengthy voting procedure.

Had the vote gone the other way, it would marked the end of the Holocene, the Epoch when humans moved from foraging to the spread of agriculture, then the ages of metals and ultimately civilisation and written history. Even the Quaternary Period seemed under threat: the 2.5 Ma through which the genus Homo emerged from the hominin line and evolvd. Yet a pro-Anthropocene vote would have faced two more, perhaps even more difficult hurdles: a ratification vote by the full ICS, and a final one in August 2024 at a forum of the International Union of Geological Sciences (IUGS), the overarching body that represents all aspects of geology.  

There can be little doubt that the variety and growth of human interferences in the natural world since the Industrial Revolution poses frightening threats to civilisation and economy. But what they constitute is really a cultural or anthropological issue, rather than one suited to geological debate. The term Anthropocene has become a matter of propaganda for all manner of environmental groups, with which I personally have no problem. My guess is that there will be a compromise. There seems no harm either way in designating the Anthropocene informally as a geological Event. It would be in suitably awesome company with the Permian and Cretaceous mass extinctions, the Great Oxygenation Event at the start of the Proterozoic, the Snowball Earth events and the Palaeocene–Eocene Thermal Maximum. And it would require neither special pleading nor annoying the majority of geologists. But I believe it needs another name. The assault on the outer Earth has not been inflicted by the vast majority of humans, but by a tiny minority who wield power for profit and relentless growth in production. The ‘Plutocracene’ might be more fitting. Other suggestions are welcome …

See also: Witze, A. 2024. Geologists reject the Anthropocene as Earth’s new epoch — after 15 years of debate. Nature, v. 627, News article; DOI: 10.1038/d41586-024-00675-8; Voosen, P. 2024. The Anthropocene is dead. Long live the Anthropocene. Science, v. 383, News article, 5 March 2024.