Skip to main content

Arctic Ocean: why winter sea ice has stalled, and what it means for the rest of the world

Ice floes in the Laptev Sea, Russia. Olenyok/Shutterstock

Arctic sea ice plays a crucial role in the Earth’s energy balance. It is covered for most of the year by snow, which is the brightest natural surface on the planet, reflecting about 80% of the solar radiation that hits it back out to space.

Meanwhile, the ocean it floats on is the darkest natural surface on the planet, absorbing 90% of incident solar radiation. For that reason, changes in sea ice cover have a big impact on how much sunlight the planet absorbs, and how fast it warms up.

Each year a thin layer of the Arctic Ocean freezes over, forming sea ice. In spring and summer this melts back again, but some of the sea ice survives through the summer and is known as multi-year ice. It’s thicker and more resilient than the sea ice that forms and melts each year, but as the Arctic climate warms – at a rate more than twice that of the rest of the world – this multi-year ice is under threat.

In the last 40 years, multi-year ice has shrunk by about half. At some time in the next few decades, scientists expect the world will see an ice-free Arctic Ocean throughout the summer, with worrying consequences for the rest of the climate system. That prospect got much closer in 2020, due in part to the exceptional summer heatwave that roiled the Russian Arctic.

Shutting down the sea ice factory

The oceans have a large thermal capacity, which means they can store huge amounts of heat. In fact, the top metre of the oceans has about the same thermal capacity as the whole of the atmosphere. Many of us have experienced a balmy afternoon in autumn by the coast even though the air temperature inland is only a few degrees above freezing. That’s because the oceans accumulate heat slowly over the summer, releasing it equally slowly during winter.

So it is with the Laptev Sea, lying north of the Siberian coast. This part of the Arctic Ocean is usually a factory for new sea ice in autumn and winter as air temperatures dip below zero and surface water starts to freeze. That new ice is carried westward by persistent offshore winds in a kind of conveyor belt.

A map of the Laptev Sea with an inset world map.
The Laptev Sea lies off the coast of northern Siberia. NormanEinstein/Wikipedia, CC BY-SA

This process is powered by the formation of polynyas: areas of open water surrounded by sea ice. Polynas act as engines of new sea ice production by exchanging heat with the colder atmosphere, causing the water to freeze. But if there is no sea ice to start with, the polynya cannot form and the whole process shuts down.

Sea ice in the Laptev Sea reached a record low in 2020, with no new ice through October, later than any previous year in the satellite record. The exceptional summer heatwave across Siberia will have resulted in heat accumulating in the adjacent ocean, which is now delaying the regrowth of sea ice.

In the 1980s, there was as much as 600,000 square kilometres of multi-year ice covering around two thirds of the Laptev Sea. In 2020, it has been ice-free for months with no multi-year ice left at all. The whole Arctic Ocean is heading for ice-free conditions in the future, defined as less than one million square kilometres of ice cover. That’s down from about 8 million square kilometres just 40 years ago. This year’s new record delay in ice formation in the Laptev Sea takes it a step closer.

A rapidly changing Arctic is a global cause for concern. Thawing permafrost releases methane, a greenhouse gas that is about 84 times more potent than CO₂ when measured over 20 years.

Meanwhile, the Greenland Ice Sheet, the largest ice mass in the northern hemisphere, is currently contributing more to sea levels rising than any other source, and has enough ice in it to raise global sea level by 7.4 metres. And if the machinations of a warming Arctic still seem remote, evidence suggests that even the weather across much of the northern hemisphere is heavily influenced by what happens in the rapidly changing roof of the world.The Conversation

-------------------------------------

This blog is written by Cabot Institute member Jonathan Bamber, Professor of Physical Geography, University of BristolThis article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

Jonathan Bamber

Read more from Professor Jonathan Bamber: Siberia heatwave: why the Arctic is warming so much faster than the rest of the world

Popular posts from this blog

Converting probabilities between time-intervals

This is the first in an irregular sequence of snippets about some of the slightly more technical aspects of uncertainty and risk assessment.  If you have a slightly more technical question, then please email me and I will try to answer it with a snippet. Suppose that an event has a probability of 0.015 (or 1.5%) of happening at least once in the next five years. Then the probability of the event happening at least once in the next year is 0.015 / 5 = 0.003 (or 0.3%), and the probability of it happening at least once in the next 20 years is 0.015 * 4 = 0.06 (or 6%). Here is the rule for scaling probabilities to different time intervals: if both probabilities (the original one and the new one) are no larger than 0.1 (or 10%), then simply multiply the original probability by the ratio of the new time-interval to the original time-interval, to find the new probability. This rule is an approximation which breaks down if either of the probabilities is greater than 0.1. For example

1-in-200 year events

You often read or hear references to the ‘1-in-200 year event’, or ‘200-year event’, or ‘event with a return period of 200 years’. Other popular horizons are 1-in-30 years and 1-in-10,000 years. This term applies to hazards which can occur over a range of magnitudes, like volcanic eruptions, earthquakes, tsunamis, space weather, and various hydro-meteorological hazards like floods, storms, hot or cold spells, and droughts. ‘1-in-200 years’ refers to a particular magnitude. In floods this might be represented as a contour on a map, showing an area that is inundated. If this contour is labelled as ‘1-in-200 years’ this means that the current rate of floods at least as large as this is 1/200 /yr, or 0.005 /yr. So if your house is inside the contour, there is currently a 0.005 (0.5%) chance of being flooded in the next year, and a 0.025 (2.5%) chance of being flooded in the next five years. The general definition is this: ‘1-in-200 year magnitude is x’ = ‘the current rate for eve

Coconuts and climate change

Before pursuing an MSc in Climate Change Science and Policy at the University of Bristol, I completed my undergraduate studies in Environmental Science at the University of Colombo, Sri Lanka. During my final year I carried out a research project that explored the impact of extreme weather events on coconut productivity across the three climatic zones of Sri Lanka. A few months ago, I managed to get a paper published and I thought it would be a good idea to share my findings on this platform. Climate change and crop productivity  There has been a growing concern about the impact of extreme weather events on crop production across the globe, Sri Lanka being no exception. Coconut is becoming a rare commodity in the country, due to several reasons including the changing climate. The price hike in coconuts over the last few years is a good indication of how climate change is affecting coconut productivity across the country. Most coconut trees are no longer bearing fruits and thos