gerison

Gibt es mittlerweile eine aktualisierte Zahl der Personen die unterschrieben haben? Die letzte, die ich mitbekommen habe (Ich glaub im Standard Artikel), waren 15.000.

Wenn man die Stimmung auf BB oder MTB-News zu dem Thema einfängt, kling es so, als würde der kommende Mountainbike Koordinator vor einer ähnlichen Aufgabe stehen, wie ein Change Manager im Pensionistenheim. Der AV versucht jedenfalls die Welle schon anzupaddeln: Da werden die T-Leiter offenbar auch schon mit Bezug auf die BK gefragt, ob sie Trails kennen die als shared trail verwendet werden können. Das haben sie in der Art auch in Neuseeland gemacht. Die haben gezielt nach alten Wegen gesucht, die in Vergessenheit geraten sind und diese dann für's Biken adaptiert. Da war's auch mit dem Argumentieren leichter, weil der Weg ja schon bestanden hat. Ich hab mich im Herbst auch schon mal bemüht beim BEV alte Karten zu bekommen, die ich dann digital über neue Legen. Gab aber keine Daten.

Ist eigentlich noch irgendwer an dem Thema interessiet?

Hallo zusammen! Ich denk, dass es passen müsste. Möchte zur Sicherheit hier nochmal fragen, ob das wer konkret weiß. Vielen Dank

Wenn man man mehrere Regionen braucht, dann ist die Pro Version schon recht lässig und sorgt für entspanntes Radfahren. Ich hab die Pro Version damals gleicht mit dem Outside+ Bundle genommen, weil es im Angebot nur unwesentlich teurer war. Ich glaub 3D Karten gibt es auch nur in der Pro Verison. Du kannst Dir auch in der Pro Version Strava Segmente anzeigen lassen. Auch sehr hilfreich, wenn man in Ö Strecken entdecken will, und kein Strava hat. Im Bundle ist auch Gaia GPS dabei. Mit der App kann man wirklich easy während der Tour am Mobiltelefon Touren planen oder umplanen . Alle Trailforks Trails kann man auch dort als Overlay einblenden. Mich reut es nicht, dass ich da investiert habe. Ob ich mir das in einem Jahr zum vollen Preis leisten werde, weiß ich jetzt noch nicht. Wenn es aber entweder Strava oder das Outside+ Bundle sein soll. Dann eindeutig das Outside+ Bundle mit Trailforks pro, Gaia GPS. Leaderbords gibt es auch auf Trailforks. Allerdings nur bei den "offiziellen" Trails.

Das war noch bei den 16ern. Das sind jetzt die 20iger. Die Kinder wachsen ja. Die Steckachse hinten, sitzt in einer horizontal verstellbaren Achsaufnahme (mit Stellschrauben - eigentlich recht genial, Schaltauge und Bremssattelaufnahme sind auf dem Schlitten mit der Achsaufnahme angebracht). Ist eh das gleiches System wie bei den 16ern, nur dass diese eben als Singlespeed ausgeliefert werden und dann nachgerüstet werden können. Einmal blieb die Kette im Schaltwerk hängen. Ich glaub jetzt da entstanden die Schrammen auf dem unteren Bild oben beim zurücktreten. Ich glaube die Kette blieb hängen, weil das untere Führungsröllchen beim Schaltwerk so abgefahren war, dass die Kette zwischen Rolle und Käfig gesprungen und stecken geblieben ist (bei einem Rennen). Der Kettenschräglauf zieht die Kette dann förmlich vom Schaltröllchen runter. Ich habe danach beide Räder auf Singelspeed für Rennen umgebaut, weil ich den Stress nicht nochmal haben wollte. Ich habe später dann die Schaltrollen erneuert und dann ging es auch wieder - lange halten die aber wohl nicht. Die Schrammen beim ersten Bild sind mir erst diese Woche aufgefallen, da hatte ich das Problem nicht beobachtet, das Radl ist auch neu. Habe mir dann versucht das mit einem Stein zu erklären, der da irgendwie reingeraten ist, aber hat auch nicht wirklich gepasst. Deshalb habe ich das mal jetzt gepostet. Aber ich glaube , dass ich den Hergang jetzt verstanden hab.

Das war gestern auch noch mein Gedanke, dass es quasi da die Kette von oben reinstopft. Danke jedenfalls.

Umbau auf Singlspeed. Vorher ist mir da nix aufgefallen. Umbau erfolgte im Ständer.... Woher soll da die Kraft herkommen und wie muss da die Kette laufen? Distanz von der Stelle zu den Zähnen liegt bei fast 2 cm

Zwei Räder, gleiche Stelle. Bin ratlos. Edit. Sind Kinderradl.

Die hab ich ja auch nie getroffen 😉 Ansprechverhalten und Druckstufendämpfung ist aber nicht das selbe. Jetzt rein theoretisch; oder? Da geht es ja eher um Losbrechmoment udgl.

Ich hab noch nie jemanden getroffen, der behauptet hätte, die Fox Factory Gabeln wären plush. Die Gabel funktioniert jedenfalls, wenn Du volle Kanne reinhältst und ich glaub, dafür ist sie gebaut. Ich find's immer lustig, wenn der Jordi bei "FOX Dialed" den Fahrern, die sich beschweren, dass sich das Radl im Training hart anfühlt sagt: "Beim Rennen passt es" oder gleich nachschiebt, "musst halt mehr Armtraining machen." Ich denke, dass Du keinen Allgemeinplatz aus dem Problem machen kannst. Wenn man sich mit dem Standardsetup nicht zufrieden gibt, kann man ja ein Revalving machen. Hab ich bei einem Dämpfer drei mal machen lassen. Davon abgesehen gibt es so viel Faktoren, die die Performance beeinflussen, dass Du die in diesem Thread nicht unterbringen wirst. Kann ja auch sein, dass Du mehr über dem Hinterrad fährst und der Dämpfer "plush" ist und daher zu wenig das "frontend" stützt, dann wird es vorne auch härter, weil Du nicht das notwendige Gewicht drauf bekommst. usw.... Ps: Einfach bei Fox in Deutschland anrufen und mit dem Techniker reden. Die haben mir immer super Auskünfte gegeben, weil mir die 38er viel zu hart vorgekommen ist. (quasi die Jordies für den Amateursport). Die sagen auch, wenn etwas mal bei einer Serie nicht so gut funktioniert hat und können dann auch eine Lösung anbieten. Edit: Die Factory Fox ist ja nicht die "beste Gabel" schlechtin. Es ist eine super Gabel für einen ganz bestimmten Einsatzbereich.

Ja, eh ich habe nur die Erfahrung gemacht, dass ich mit 20% Sag nicht klar komme. Ich bin eher bei 15% gelandet. Ich habe einmal Metallier in einem Interview gehört, in dem er gesagt hat, dass ihm Sag eigentlich ziemlich egal ist, hauptsache die Gabel fühlt sich gut an.

Das ist kein Widerspruch. Wenn Du die Spring Rate erhöhst, brauchst Du weniger Druckstufendämpfung, und hast zusätzlich mehr Federweg bevor die Progression zuschlägt, weil Du höher im Federweg stehst. Im Ergebnis fühlt sich das dann weicher an. Vor allem, wenn Du auf die eine Wurzel drauf fährst. Zugstufe wirst Du dann etwas zudrehen müssen. Von Vorsprung Suspension gibt es da gute Videos dazu. Vielleicht findest Du Dein Setup da wieder. Dass es sich ohne Veränderung der Luftseite weicher anfühlt wenn Du die LSC mit einem Dämpfertune aufmachst, ist aber auch klar. Als ich das selbe Problem mit immer weiter offener LSC und HSC lösen wollte, hatte ich dann überhaupt keinen Gegenhalt mehr in den Anliegern und vor Wellen - das Bike fühlt sich wie totgeschlagen an. EDIT: Wie gesagt, meine Lösung war, Token raus, Druck rauf für das normale fahren. Sollte ich wieder mal zügiger od steiler fahren müssen, mach ich den Token wieder rein.

Liest sich so, als ob Du Dich eh ziemlich auskennst. 20% Sag erscheint mir ziemlich viel. Mit 72kg bist jetzt eher auf der leichteren Seite. Es liest sich so, als ob Du im mittleren Federweg festhängst und dann ziemlich hart und schnell in die Progression kommst. Die Factory ist aber grundsätzlich auf Speed ausgelegt. Komfortabel ist die nicht; ich glaub, das ist auch nicht beabsichtigt. Hab selber eine 38er und musste auch erst mal alle Token raus nehmen und mit dem Druck rauf gehen.. Liege da ca 10psi über der Empfehlung. Hier ein Thread aus mtb-news.de bezüglich einer Fox34. Vielleicht findest Du da Parallelen.

Spacer hilft, wenn noch Platz ist. Und/Oder Du findest den Zahn - wenn er irgendwie deformiert ist, kannst ihn ja sanft mit einer Feile bearbeiten.

Vielleicht kannst Du mit einem Spacer die Kassette etwas nach aussen rücken, vorausgesetzt Du hast noch genug Gewinde für den Abschlussring und der Schräglauf wirkt sich nicht negativ aufs kleinste Ritzel aus.

Ab welchem Ritzel springt es denn nicht mehr?

Schreibt der, der bloß glaubt und hofft, dass er Recht hat.

https://www.diepresse.com/17718380/papst-geht-hart-ins-gericht-mit-klimaleugnern-hoeren-wir-auf-mit-dem-spott diepresse.com Papst geht hart ins Gericht mit Klimaleugnern: „Hören wir auf mit dem Spott“ Almut Siefert 5–6 Minuten In einem apostolischen Schreiben ruft der Papst zu raschen Maßnahmen gegen den Klimawandel auf. „Wir kommen bloß noch rechtzeitig, um dramatischere Schäden zu vermeiden.“ Rom. Der heilige Franz von Assisi forderte bereits von den Menschen: „Lobt Gott für all seine Geschöpfe.“ Zu dessen Ehren nahm der Argentinier Jorge Mario Bergoglio nach seiner Wahl zum Papst im März 2013 den Namen Franziskus an. Und pünktlich zum Gedenktag des heiligen Franz hat der Namensvetter an diesem Mittwoch ein apostolisches Schreiben veröffentlicht, das die Menschheit in ihrem Umgang mit sich selbst, der Erde und eben all den Geschöpfen Gottes auf die rechte Bahn bringen soll. Wenn Sie Gefallen an diesem Artikel gefunden haben, loggen Sie sich doch ein oder wählen Sie eines unserer Angebote um fortzufahren. In dem Schreiben „Laudate Deum“ („Lobt Gott“) ruft Papst Franziskus erneut und mit Vehemenz zum Kampf gegen die Erderwärmung auf. „Mit der Zeit wird mir klar, dass wir nicht genügend reagieren, während die Welt, die uns umgibt, zerbröckelt und vielleicht vor einem tiefen Einschnitt steht“, schreibt er darin. Die 13 Seiten verstehen sich als Fortsetzung der Umweltenzyklika „Laudato si“ von Franziskus aus dem Jahr 2015. Wie auch die Enzyklika hat er das Ergänzungsschreiben in sechs Kapitel unterteilt. „Enormer Schaden verursacht“ Der menschliche Ursprung des Klimawandels könne nicht mehr bezweifelt werden. „Wir können den enormen Schaden, den wir verursacht haben, nicht mehr aufhalten“, heißt zum Ende des ersten Kapitels, in dem Franziskus die globale Klimakrise mithilfe wissenschaftlicher Zahlen und Erkenntnisse darlegt. „Wir kommen bloß noch rechtzeitig, um noch dramatischere Schäden zu vermeiden.“ Und auch an die eigenen Reihen richtet sich die schroffe Kritik des Papstes: Er sehe sich gezwungen, schreibt er, „diese Klarstellungen, die offenkundig erscheinen mögen, aufgrund bestimmter abschätziger und wenig vernünftiger Meinungen vorzunehmen, die ich selbst innerhalb der katholischen Kirche vorfinde“. »Geben wir endlich zu, dass es sich um ein menschliches und soziales Problem handelt.« Papst Franziskus Mit Blick auf die UN-Klimakonferenz COP28, die von 30. November bis 12. Dezember in Dubai tagen wird, wird Franziskus besonders deutlich. Er appelliert in scharfem, fast schon wütendem Ton: „Hören wir endlich auf mit dem unverantwortlichen Spott, der dieses Thema als etwas bloß Ökologisches, Grünes, Romantisches darstellt, das oft von wirtschaftlichen Interessen ins Lächerliche gezogen wird. Geben wir endlich zu, dass es sich um ein in vielerlei Hinsicht menschliches und soziales Problem handelt.“ Es liege an jeder Familie zu bedenken, dass die Zukunft ihrer Kinder auf dem Spiel stehe. Franziskus stellt auch Forderungen an die internationale Politik. Die getroffenen Vereinbarungen auf bisherigen Klimakonferenzen erführen bisher nur ein geringes Maß an praktischer Umsetzung, so lautet seine Kritik, weil keine geeigneten Mechanismen zur Kontrolle und Bestrafung von Zuwiderhandlungen eingerichtet wurden. „Wirksamere Weltorganisationen“ müssten mit echter Autorität ausgestattet sein, um die Erfüllung unverzichtbarer Ziele zu gewährleisten. „Dies würde zu einem Multilateralismus führen, der nicht von wechselnden politischen Umständen oder den Interessen einiger weniger abhängt.“ Freiheit für die Mächtigen Doch vor allem betont Franziskus die Versäumnisse der Politik, sich der Klimakrise tatsächlich und wirksam anzunehmen. „Es bleibt bedauerlich“, schreibt er, „dass man globale Krisen verstreichen lässt, wo sie doch die Chance bieten würden, heilsame Veränderungen herbeizuführen.“ So sei es sowohl bei der Finanzkrise 2007/2008 gewesen als auch bei der Covid-19-Krise. Es scheine, dass die tatsächlichen Strategien, die sich im Anschluss daran weltweit entwickelt haben, auf mehr Individualismus und weniger Integration zielten, „auf mehr Freiheit für die wahren Mächtigen, die immer ein Hintertürchen finden“, schreibt der Papst. Einen Funken Hoffnung verbreitet der Papst dann aber doch: Forderungen, die überall auf der Welt von engagierten Personen aus unterschiedlichsten Ländern kommen, könnten letztlich „Druck auf die Machtverhältnisse ausüben“. Es sei zu hoffen, dass dies im Hinblick auf die Klimakrise geschehe.

So, das war es für mich in diesem Thread. Ich hoff, die NYT kündigt mich net, wenn ich die Artikel hier poste. Sind leider hinter einer paywall. Ich muss jetzt wieder ins Kinderradlforum rüber. Wenn meinem kleinen 5 min vor dem Rennen in zwei Wochen wieder die Schaltung eingeht, redet der mit mir gar nix mehr. Der is da kompromissloser als der NoWin.

nytimes.com Opinion | Climate Change Is Real. Markets, Not Governments, Offer the Cure. Bret Stephens 37–47 Minuten Opinion Yes, Greenland’s Ice Is Melting A trip there changed my mind about climate change while reinforcing my belief that markets, not government, provide the cure. A trip there changed my mind about climate change while reinforcing my belief that markets, not government, provide the cure. Yes, Greenland’s ice is melting. Yes, Greenland’s ice is melting. Yes, Greenland’s ice is melting. Yes, Greenland’s ice is melting. Yes, Greenland’s ice is melting. Yes, Greenland’s ice is melting. Yes, Greenland’s ice is melting. ILULISSAT, Greenland — On a clear day in August, a helicopter set me and a few companions down on the northern end of the Jakobshavn Glacier in Western Greenland, about 150 miles north of the Arctic Circle. The ground under our feet seemed almost lunar: gray silt and dust, loose rocks and boulders, and, at the edge of the glacier’s face, mud so deep it nearly ate my boots. To the south, the calving front of the glacier known in Greenlandic as Sermeq Kujalleq periodically deposited enormous slabs of ice, some more than 100 feet high, into the open water. I asked the pilot to give me a sense of how much the glacier had retreated since he had been flying the route. He pointed to a distant rocky island in the middle of the fjord. “That’s where the glacier was in 2007,” he said. Over the course of the 20th century, the Jakobshavn Glacier retreated about 10 to 15 kilometers. Over just the next eight years, it retreated about the same amount, according to the oceanographer Josh Willis of NASA’s Jet Propulsion Laboratory. Later the front advanced a little — a function of complex dynamics partly involving ocean currents — before resuming its retreat. For anyone who has entertained doubts about the warming of the planet, a trip to Greenland serves as a bracing corrective. Flying low over the vast ice sheet that covers most of the island, I immediately noticed large ponds of cerulean meltwater and dozens of fast-flowing streams rushing through gullies of white ice and sometimes disappearing into vertical ice caverns thousands of feet deep. Such lakes, scientists report, have become far more common over the last two decades, occurring earlier in the year at higher elevations. Last year, it even rained at the highest point of the ice sheet, some 500 miles north of the Arctic Circle. That’s a first since record keeping began in the 1980s. Closer to the coast, at the point where the sheet approaches the darkly colored mountains that ring the island, lies a distinctive, beige trimline of barren earth, ranging in width from hundreds to thousands of meters. Like the bathtub rings in the depleted lakes and reservoirs of the American West, it shows where the ice once reached, and how far it has receded. History also records that Greenland’s great 19th-century explorers — men like Fridtjof Nansen of Norway and Robert Peary of America — had to climb steep glacial walls merely to get onto the sheet itself. Now it is easy to spot places where the ice meets the dry land on flat ground. And then there’s the testimony of the market. In the coastal town of Ilulissat, I had dinner with Bo Møller Stensgaard, a geologist and the C.E.O. of Bluejay Mining, which plans to mine for copper, nickel, cobalt, zinc and ilmenite. The receding of the ice sheet has opened additional land for exploration, Stensgaard said, and warmer weather has lengthened the season when ships can travel to the island without the risk of being frozen in. “I can put people in the field longer,” he said. Having spent long months in tents doing geological fieldwork, he sees the transformation not just as an entrepreneur. “I’ve seen glaciers disappear completely,” he said. “I’ve seen starving polar bears because of disappearing sea ice. These are personally disturbing changes.” But, since the minerals he hopes to mine are critical for any future green-energy transition, climate change is creating opportunities in Greenland to address the reason it is melting. For years, I saw myself not as a global-warming denier (a loaded term with its tendentious echo of Holocaust denial) but rather as an agnostic on the causes of climate change and a scoffer at the idea that it was a catastrophic threat to the future of humanity. It’s not that I was unalterably opposed to the idea that, by pumping carbon dioxide into the atmosphere, modern civilization was contributing to the warming by 1 degree Celsius and the inches of sea-level rise the planet had experienced since the dawn of the industrial age. It’s that the severity of the threat seemed to me wildly exaggerated and that the proposed cures all smacked of old-fashioned statism mixed with new-age religion. Hadn’t we repeatedly lived through previous alarms about other, allegedly imminent, environmental catastrophes that didn’t come to pass, like the belief, widespread in the 1970s, that overpopulation would inevitably lead to mass starvation? And if the Green Revolution had spared us from that Malthusian nightmare, why should we not have confidence that human ingenuity wouldn’t also prevent the parade of horribles that climate change was supposed to bring about? I had other doubts, too. It seemed hubristic, or worse, to make multitrillion-dollar policy bets based on computer models trying to forecast climate patterns decades into the future. Climate activists kept promoting policies based on technologies that were either far from mature (solar energy) or sometimes actively harmful (biofuels). Expensive efforts to curb greenhouse gas emissions in Europe and North America seemed particularly fruitless when China, India and other developing countries weren’t about to curb their own appetite for fossil fuels. There was also a millenarian fervor that bothered me about climate activism, with its apocalyptic imagery (the Statue of Liberty underwater) and threats of doom unless we were willing to live far more frugally. That was my frame of mind when, in April 2017, I wrote my first column for The Times, “Climate of Complete Certainty.” The blowback was intense. Climate scientists denounced me in open letters; petitions were circulated demanding that I be fired. The response mainly hardened my conviction that climate activists were guilty of precisely what I charged them with: intellectual self-certainty that is often a prescription for disaster. Among the signatories of one petition was an oceanographer, John Englander, who runs an educational and advocacy group, the Rising Seas Institute. Two years later, on a visit to New York, he wrote me out of the blue and asked to meet. Unlike most of my detractors, his note was so cordial that it seemed churlish to say no. We met the next day. Englander is a trim, affable and eloquent man of 72 who once ran the Cousteau Society and reminds me of a bearded Patrick Stewart, albeit with an American accent. His pitch was simple: The coastline we have taken for granted for thousands of years of human history changed rapidly in the past on account of natural forces — and would soon be changing rapidly and disastrously by man-made ones. A trip to Greenland, which holds one-eighth of the world’s ice on land (most of the rest is in Antarctica) would show me just how drastic those changes have been. Would I join him? Again, it seemed churlish to say no (though the pandemic would delay my trip by two years). More to the point, if my main objection to the climate activists was my impression of their overweening certitude, didn’t it behoove me to check my own? Where — except in the risk of changing my mind — was the harm in testing my views? But we need to recognize clean energy’s limitations. But we need to recognize clean energy’s limitations. From a jetliner, the most striking features of Greenland seem to be its vastness and its blankness, which put me in mind of a line from Robert Frost’s poem “Desert Places”: “A blanker whiteness of benighted snow/With no expression, nothing to express.” It was only when I got to the sheet itself that I realized the line could not be less apt. Trapped in the whiteness was a story about the world’s distant past and potential future. Greenland is about the size of Alaska and California combined and, except at its coasts, is covered by ice that in places is nearly two miles thick. Even that’s only a fraction of the ice in Antarctica, which is more than six times as large. But the Arctic is warming at nearly four times the global average, meaning Greenland’s ice also poses a nearer-term risk because it is melting faster. If all its ice were to melt, global sea levels would rise by some 24 feet. That would be more than enough to inundate hundreds of coastal cities in scores of nations, from Jakarta and Bangkok to Copenhagen and Amsterdam to Miami and New Orleans. But just how fast is Greenland’s ice melting right now? Is this an emergency for our time, or is it a problem for the future? Measuring ice loss on scales so vast is no easy task, since Greenland, like a spendthrift billionaire, is both constantly accumulating and shedding almost unfathomable quantities of ice over long spans of time. But scientists have been drilling ice-core samples from Greenland for decades, giving them a very good idea of climatic changes stretching back thousands of years. Better yet, a pair of satellites that detect anomalies in Earth’s gravity fields has been taking measurements of the sheet regularly for nearly 20 years, giving scientists a much more precise idea of what is happening. The data shows unmistakably that Greenland’s ice is not in balance. It is losing far more than it is gaining. From April 2002 to July 2022, Greenland has lost more than 5,000 gigatons of ice to the ocean 250 miles Greenland Ice mass change relative to 2002 +0.5 no change –1 –2 –3 –4 –5 meters of ice Source: NASA In Copenhagen before my departure for Greenland, I chatted with Liam Colgan, a Canadian research climatologist with the Geological Survey of Denmark and Greenland. “We haven’t had a good positive mass balance year since the late 1990s,” he told me in a follow-on email when I asked him to explain the data for me. The losses can vary sharply by year. The annualized average over the past 30 years, he added, is 170 gigatons per year. That’s the equivalent of about 5,400 tons of ice loss per second. That “suggests that Greenland ice loss has been tracking the I.P.C.C. worse-case, highest-carbon-emission scenario.” (The Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change is the U.N. body that assesses climate change.) Still, it’s hard to forecast with any precision what that means. “Anyone who says they know what the sea level is going to be in 2100 is giving you an educated guess,” said NASA’s Willis. “The fact is, we’re seeing these big ice sheets melt for the first time in history, and we don’t really know how fast they can go.” His own educated guess: “By 2100, we are probably looking at more than a foot or two and hopefully less than seven or eight feet. But we are struggling to figure out just how fast the ice sheets can melt. So the upper end of range is still not well known.” On the face of it, that sounds manageable. Even if sea levels rise by eight feet, won’t the world have nearly 80 years to come to grips with the problem, during which technologies that help us mitigate the effects of climate change while adapting to its consequences are likely to make dramatic advances? Won’t the world — including countries that today are poor — become far richer and thus more capable of weathering the floods, surges and superstorms? But we’ve gotten better at mitigating climate disasters. But we’ve gotten better at mitigating climate disasters. Englander isn’t at all sanguine. The average rate at which sea level is rising around the world, he estimates, has more than tripled over the past three decades, to five millimeters a year from 1.5 millimeters. That may still seem minute, yet as the world learned during the pandemic, exponential increases have a way of hitting hard. “When something is on a straight line or a smooth curve, you can plot its trajectory,” Englander said. “But sea level, like earthquakes and mudslides, is something that happens irregularly and can change rather quickly and surprise us. The point is, you can no longer predict the future by the recent past.” Another major wild card is Antarctica, where the average rate of ice mass loss is more than 150 gigatons a year. Shortly after I returned from Greenland, a glacier in West Antarctica called Thwaites, roughly the size of Florida, caught the world’s attention when a study suggested it was, according to a co-author, Robert Larter of the British Antarctic Survey, “holding on today by its fingernails.” Or was that alarmist? In The Wall Street Journal’s editorial pages, where I used to work, the theoretical physicist Steven Koonin, a former under secretary for science in the Obama administration’s Energy Department, cast doubt on the threat from Thwaites in a voice that could have once been mine. He also thinks the risks associated with Greenland’s melting are less a product of human-induced global warming than of natural cycles in North Atlantic currents and temperatures, which over time have a way of regressing to the mean. “Much climate reporting today highlights short-term changes when they fit the narrative of a broken climate but then ignores or plays down changes when they don’t, often dismissing them as ‘just weather,’” he wrote in February. Another climate nonalarmist is Roger Pielke Jr., a professor of environmental studies at the University of Colorado Boulder. I call Pielke a nonalarmist rather than a skeptic because he readily acknowledges that the challenges associated with climate change, including sea-level rise, are real, serious and probably unstoppable, at least for many decades. But that is also the source of his (relative) optimism. “If we have to have a problem,” he told me when I reached him by phone, “we probably want one with a slow onset that we can see coming. It’s not like an asteroid coming from space.” Among Pielke’s areas of expertise is the analysis of long-term trends in weather and climate-related disasters. Even as the nominal cost of hurricanes, floods, fires and droughts has grown, the economic impact of these disasters relative to the overall size of the economy continues to fall, a function of better forecasting, infrastructure, planning and responsiveness when disaster strikes — all of which, in turn, are the result of the massive increase in wealth the world has enjoyed in the past century. “Since the 1940s, the impact of floods as a proportion of U.S. gross domestic product has dropped by 70 percent-plus,” Pielke said. “We see this around the world, across phenomena. The story is that fewer people are dying and we are having less damage proportional to G.D.P.” A considerable amount of data bears Pielke out. In the 1920s, the estimated average annual death toll from natural catastrophes around the globe averaged more than 500,000 a year. The 1931 China floods alone killed as many as four million people not only through drowning but also by exposure, disease and famine. A more recent example, the 1970 Bhola cyclone, killed as many as half a million people in what is now Bangladesh. In the 2010s, the annual average death toll was below 50,000 — a tenth of what it was a century ago. Hurricane Ian, among the strongest storms ever to hit Florida, had a death toll of at least 119, a small fraction of the 8,000 believed killed by the Great Galveston hurricane of 1900 Even the poorest countries, while still unacceptably vulnerable, are suffering far fewer human and economic losses to climate-related disasters. Global warming is real and getting worse, Pielke said, yet still it’s possible that humanity will be able to adapt to, and compensate for, its effects. The death rate from natural disasters has fallen globally Average number of deaths per 100,000 people, by decade Source: EM-DAT Note: Natural disasters include all geophysical, meteorological and climate events like earthquakes, volcanic activity, landslides, drought, wildfires, storms and flooding. Or maybe not. A few years ago, I would have found voices like Koonin’s and Pielke’s persuasive. Now I’m less sure. What intervened was a pandemic. Just as I had once scoffed at the idea of climate doom, I had also, for almost identical reasons, dismissed predictions of another catastrophic pandemic on a par with the 1918-20 influenza outbreak. After all, hadn’t we pushed through previous alarms involving Ebola, SARS, MERS and vCJD (mad cow disease) without immense loss of life? Hadn’t virology, epidemiology, public hygiene, drug development and medicine all come a long way since the end of World War I, rendering comparisons with past pandemics mostly moot? That’s what I thought until the spring of 2020, when, along with everyone else, I experienced how swiftly and implacably nature can overwhelm even the richest and most technologically advanced societies. It was a lesson in the sort of intellectual humility I recommended for others and began to realize I could use more of myself. It was also a lesson in thinking about risk, especially those in the category known as high-impact, low-probability events that seem to be hitting us with such regularity in this century: the attacks of Sept. 11, 2001; the tsunamis of 2004 and 2011, the mass upheavals in the Arab world that began with a Tunisian street vendor’s self-immolation. Here were some questions that gnawed at me: What if the past does nothing to predict the future? What if climate risks do not evolve gradually and relatively predictably but instead suddenly soar uncontrollably? How much lead time is required to deal with something like sea-level rise? How do we weigh the risks of underreacting to climate change against the risks of overreacting to it? I called Seth Klarman, one of the world’s most successful hedge-fund managers, to think through questions of risk. While he’s not an expert on climate change, he has spent decades thinking deeply about every manner of risk. He’s also one of the rare people with a capacity to change his mind — including, he readily acknowledges, about climate risk. “I’ve talked to so many experts and seen so much evidence,” he told me over Zoom, “I’m convinced the climate is changing, and addressing climate change has become a philanthropic priority of mine.” “If you face something that is potentially existential,” he explained, “existential for nations, even for life as we know it, even if you thought the risk is, say, 5 percent, you’d want to hedge against it.” How? “One thing we try to do,” he said, “is we buy protection when it’s really inexpensive, even when we think we may well not need it.” The forces contributing to climate change, he noted, echoing Englander, “might be irreversible sooner than the damage from climate change has become fully apparent. You can’t say it’s far off and wait when, if you had acted sooner, you might have dealt with it better and at less cost. We have to act now.” In other words, an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure. That’s particularly true if climate change is akin to cancer — manageable or curable in its earlier stages, disastrous in its later ones. For Klarman, the simplest and most obvious climate hedge is a carbon tax. By “raising the price of oil, gas and coal to make alternative energy more economically attractive,” he said, “capitalists will be incentivized to act.” Klarman recognizes that such a tax is easier said than done because, if it’s enacted by only a few nations, it becomes more of a form of virtue signaling than a serious climate change policy. Carbon taxes also tend to impose their burdens inequitably, favoring city dwellers over exurban and rural ones, knowledge businesses over manufacturers. There’s a reason Barack Obama rejected a carbon tax, knowing it could be deeply unpopular among voters, and why France’s carbon tax sparked the “yellow vest” public revolt that has energized the far right. As I’ve always believed, knowing there is grave risk to future generations — and expecting current ones to make immediate sacrifices for it — defies most of what we know about human nature. So I began to think more deeply about that challenge, and others. But we need to accept economic growth as a benefit. But we need to accept economic growth as a benefit. When I had dinner with Stensgaard, the mining executive, he mentioned a statistic that stunned me. For the world to achieve the net-zero goal for carbon dioxide emissions by 2050, according to the International Energy Agency, we will have to mine, by 2040, six times the current amounts of critical minerals — nickel, cobalt, copper, lithium, manganese, graphite, chromium, rare earths and other minerals and elements — needed for electric vehicles, wind turbines and solar panels. And we will almost certainly have to do it from sources other than Russia, China, the Democratic Republic of Congo and other places that pose unacceptable strategic, environmental or humanitarian risks. To bring carbon emissions to net zero, the world needs significantly more minerals Global demand for minerals like copper, nickel, lithium and graphite, by type of clean energy Source: International Energy Agency That should be great news for people like Stensgaard — provided Greenlanders are willing to go along. Across the iceberg-strewn bay from where we dined lies Disko Island, twice the size of Long Island and home to around 1,000 people. According to Stensgaard, it is believed to contain 12 million to 16 million tons of nickel. To put that figure in perspective, Stensgaard told me that according to one estimate, the Norilsk nickel mine in Russia, one of the largest in the world, has produced about 8.3 million tons since the 1940s. A world committed to net zero will need many more Disko Islands to supply its “clean” energy needs. I put the word “clean” in quotation marks because the term is a misnomer. As in everything else in life, so too with the environment: There is no such thing as a free lunch. Whether it’s nuclear, biofuels, natural gas, hydroelectric or, yes, wind and solar, there will always be serious environmental downsides to any form of energy when used on a massive scale. A single industrial-size wind turbine, for instance, typically requires about a ton of rare earth metals as well as three metric tons of copper, which is notoriously destructive and dirty to mine. Just as significantly, as I’ve long believed, no “clean energy” solution will easily liberate us from our overwhelming and, for now, inescapable dependence on fossil fuels. But we need solutions that align with human nature. But we need solutions that align with human nature. Nobody brings the point home better than Vaclav Smil, the Canadian polymath whose most recent book, “How the World Really Works,” should be required reading for policymakers and anyone else interested in a serious discussion about potential climate solutions. Many people tend to think of fossil fuels mostly in terms of transportation, electrical generation and heating. But how often do we consider the necessity of fossil fuels in the production of nitrogen fertilizer, without which, Smil noted, “it would be impossible to feed at least 40 percent and up to 50 percent of today’s nearly eight billion people”? It’s difficult to imagine modern life without plastics, made mainly from the hydrocarbons ethylene and propylene, or steel, made with coking coal and natural gas, or cement or asphalt. Some critics respond to Smil’s arguments with a type of heroic optimism that borders on magical thinking. Why, they ask, can’t we do more to grow our food organically and distribute and consume it locally? The only way we could do that and make a meaningful difference for the climate is if millions of us returned to farming, while accepting a world that can feed far fewer people. Or they cheer investments in wind and solar power without adequately considering that merely increasing the supply of renewable energy does very little to diminish a continued overall demand for fossil fuels, because we have yet to solve the intermittence problem: The sun doesn’t always shine, the wind doesn’t always blow, and we haven’t figured out how to store extra energy at the necessary scale. The poster child for this kind of magical thinking is Germany, which undertook a historic Energiewende — “energy revolution” — only to come up short. At the turn of the century, Germany got about 85 percent of its primary energy from fossil fuels. Now it gets about 78 percent, a puny reduction, considering that the country has spent massive sums on renewables to increase the share of electricity it generates from them. What went wrong? Many things, not least Angela Merkel’s abrupt decision to shut down all of Germany’s nuclear power plants right after the Fukushima disaster of 2011. That forced Germany to lean more heavily on coal, foreign oil and gas. Now Germany faces a winter with the prospect of uncertain energy supplies from its former partners in Moscow. Things could turn a corner once scientists finally figure out a technical solution to the energy storage problem. Or when governments and local actors get over their NIMBYism when it comes to permitting and building a large energy grid to move electricity from Germany’s windy north to its energy-hungry south. Or when thoughtful environmental activists finally come to grips with the necessity of nuclear energy — one of the few energy sources, along with hydroelectric power, that combine reliability, energy density and no direct carbon emissions. Till then, even as I’ve come to accept the danger we face, I think it’s worth extending the cancer metaphor a little further: Just as cancer treatments, when they work at all, can have terrible side effects, much the same can be said of climate treatments: The gap between an accurate diagnosis and effective treatment remains dismayingly wide. The problem has become clearer to me; the solution hasn’t. But we need to avoid alarmist activism. But we need to avoid alarmist activism. Maybe, I realized, in assessing my newfound concerns about climate change, my long-held beliefs might provide a solution — look to the market. The way we’ve dealt with other vast and persistent problems provides some lessons. For many decades, the World Bank, International Monetary Fund, U.S. Agency for International Development and other agencies, foreign and domestic, pumped trillions of dollars into some of the world’s poorest countries, with ingenious development schemes that fell apart on contact with local realities. The developing world got stuck in debt traps, aid-fueled corruption and debilitating cycles of dependency. Only when countries like Vietnam and China turned to a different model, of largely bottom-up, market-driven development, did hundreds of millions of people get lifted out of destitution. Or consider another remarkable fact noted by Smil: In the United States, the difference between total water consumption in 1965 and 2015 is less than 4 percent. In the same span of time, population grew by more than 60 percent. Laws, regulations and growing environmental awareness played important roles. So did increasing urbanization: More people living in apartments means fewer lawns that need to be watered. But the most important transformation has come in agriculture, which uses about 70 percent of the world’s freshwater supply. Farmers gradually adopted sprinkler and drip irrigation systems, rather than more wasteful flood irrigation, not to conserve water but because the technology provided higher crop yields and larger profit margins. But the market, not the state, will solve the problem. But the market, not the state, will solve the problem. Water shortages “will spur a revolutionary, aggressive approach to getting rid of flood irrigation,” said Seth Siegel, the chief sustainability officer of the Israeli AgTech company N-Drip. “Most of this innovation will be driven by free-market capitalism, with important incentives from government and NGOs.” Despite noble intentions, climate-change action has too often involved top-down plans with grandiose ambitions and poor execution. There was a time when Al Gore was emphatically in favor of ethanol, support that George W. Bush later made his own through the 2005 Renewable Fuel Standard. It is now widely acknowledged to be an unmitigated failure, costing billions in regulatory compliance, but unkillable because of its popularity with farm-state politicians. Cap-and-trade systems were once touted as a market-friendly way to control carbon dioxide emissions. Yet from Europe to California to the agencies of the U.N., bureaucrats and industry have consistently found ways to game or corrupt the trading of emissions permits. The 2015 Paris Agreement that the Biden administration rejoined with such fanfare sets highly ambitious targets for greenhouse gas reductions that burnish the environmental credentials of the governments that sign it. But the agreement has no enforcement mechanism, and the idea that countries like Russia, Saudi Arabia, China and India (which is growing more — not less — dependent on coal) are going to meet their stated emissions targets is fanciful to the point of absurdity. Yet meaningful environmental progress has been made through market forces. In this century, America’s carbon dioxide emissions across fuel types have fallen to well below 5,000 million metric tons per year, from a peak of about 6,000 million in 2007, even as our inflation-adjusted G.D.P. has grown by over 50 percent and total population by about 17 percent. Renewables, particularly wind power, played a role. So did efficiency mandates. Yet the biggest single driver in emissions reductions from 2005 to 2017 was the switch from coal to natural gas for power generation, since gas produces roughly half the carbon dioxide as coal. This, in turn, was the result of a fracking revolution in the past decade, fiercely resisted by many environmental activists, that made the United States the world’s largest gas producer. As with nuclear power, fracking carries real environmental risks (including methane emissions) that can’t be ignored. But anyone interested in useful solutions that significantly reduce emissions without incurring huge costs needs to not make the perfect the enemy of the good. In the long run, we are likelier to make progress when we adopt partial solutions that work with the grain of human nature, not big ones that work against it. Sometimes those solutions will be legislative — at least when they nudge, rather than force, the private sector to move in the right direction. But more often they will come from the bottom up, in the form of innovations and practices tested in markets, adopted by consumers and continually refined by use. They may not be directly related to climate change but can nonetheless have a positive impact on it. And they probably won’t come in the form of One Big Idea but in thousands of little ones whose cumulative impacts add up. On my last night in Greenland I took an evening boat ride through the enormous icebergs that had pushed their way out of the Ilulissat Icefjord and were now beginning to float free in the deep waters of Disko Bay. It is generally believed that one such iceberg made its way from the bay to a spot in the North Atlantic where it met the R.M.S. Titanic on the night of April 14, 1912, and sank it. It’s easy to get carried away with a metaphor, but it was hard not to think that Greenland could produce a similarly awful surprise, on a vastly greater scale, for an overconfident civilization that can’t bring itself to prepare adequately for the unthinkable moment when it could suddenly founder. Except we are not that civilization. The problem with our civilization isn’t overconfidence. It’s polarization, paralysis and a profound lack of trust in all institutions, including the scientific one (another pandemic-era lesson). Devising effective climate policies begins with recognizing the reality of the social and political landscape in which all policy operates. Some thoughts on how we might do better: 1) Engagement with critics is vital. Insults and stridency are never good tools of persuasion, and trying to cow or censor climate skeptics into silence rarely works. Englander got a lot further with me by saying, “Let’s talk,” than by signing a letter saying, in effect, “Shut up.” I too might have spared myself the outraged reception to my first column if it hadn’t been preceded by the name-calling of my old columns — such as when I called climate activists “a caste of spectacularly unattractive people pretending to an obscure form of knowledge that promises to make the seas retreat and the winds abate.” 2) Separate facts from predictions and predictions from policy. Global warming is a fact. So is the human contribution to it. So are observed increases in temperature and sea levels. So are continued increases if we continue to do more of the same. But the rate of those increases is difficult to predict even with the most sophisticated computer modeling. The scientific establishment would do more to enhance trust if it communicated what it isn’t sure of — like the relation between climate change and specific extreme weather events — as much as what it is. It would enhance it even further if climate scientists did not use the authority of their field to push for policies whose economic, political and social implications they might not fully understand. 3) Don’t allow climate to become a mainly left-of-center concern. One reason the topic of climate has become so anathema to many conservatives is that so many of the proposed solutions have the flavor, and often the price tag, of old-fashioned statism. But climate is a universally shared good and ought to be a truly common interest. Conservatives can do a lot more to develop their own set of realistic policy prescriptions (for instance, expedited permitting and tax breaks for next-generation nuclear energy). But first, many of them have to be brought around, as I was this year, about the need for action. The conservative movement needs to set an example for its children and prepare for the future. The conservative movement needs to set an example for its children and prepare for the future. 4) Be honest about the nature of the challenge. Talk of an imminent climate catastrophe is probably misleading, at least in the way most people understand “imminent.” A continual drumbeat of alarm may do more to exhaust voters than it will to rouse them. A more accurate description of the challenge might be a “potentially imminent tipping point,” meaning the worst consequences of climate change can still be far off but the end of our ability to reverse them is drawing near. Again, the metaphor of cancer — never safe to ignore and always better to deal with at Stage 2 than at Stage 4 — can be helpful. 5) Be humble about the nature of the solutions. The larger the political and financial investment in a “big fix” response to climate change on the scale of the Energiewende, the greater the loss in time, capital and (crucially) public trust when it doesn’t work as planned. Sometimes it pays to think small. As Smil noted, we can also do a lot of good by requiring triple-pane windows and proper insulation to make homes that are often likely to stand for 100 years vastly more energy efficient in cold winters and hot summers. A shift away from S.U.V.s — the ubiquity of which is a perverse outgrowth of 1970s-era fuel efficiency standards that created exemptions for light trucks — would be another quiet but major advance. 6) Begin solving problems our great-grandchildren will face. Start with sea-level rise: We cannot move Miami or Kolkata anytime soon, if ever. But we can act immediately to preserve more of our shoreline from further development and urbanization. We can also stop providing incentives for building in flood-prone areas by raising the price of federal flood insurance to reflect the increased risk more accurately. 7) Stop viewing economic growth as a problem. Industrialization may be the leading cause of climate change. But we cannot and will not reverse it through some form of deindustrialization, which would send the world into poverty and deprivation. Instead, economic growth should be seen as an ally in the fight against climate change, because it creates both the wealth that can mitigate the effects of climate change and the technological innovation needed to address its causes. That’s especially true of poorer countries, for which foreign investment, free trade, market-oriented reforms and good regulatory frameworks will do more to build climate resilience than additional billions in foreign aid. 😎 Get serious about the environmental trade-offs that come with clean energy. You cannot support wind farms but hinder the transmission lines needed to bring their power to the markets where they are needed. You cannot support wind farms but sue to block them in places where they might block your view of Nantucket Sound. You cannot support wind farms but support environmental regulations that make mining for rare earths in the United States unprofitable and send the industry to China (where meaningful regulations are effectively nonexistent). And you cannot cheer U.S. reductions in greenhouse gas emissions but oppose the fracking revolution in natural gas that helped bring it about. 9) A problem for the future is, by its very nature, a moral one. A conservative movement that claims to care about what we owe the future has the twin responsibility of setting an example for its children and at the same time preparing for that future. The same prudential logic that applies to personal finances, business decisions, Social Security, the federal debt or other risks to financial solvency should dictate thoughtful policies when it comes to climate. I arrived in Greenland thinking about Robert Frost’s “Desert Places.” When I left, the verses I had in mind were from “God’s Grandeur,” a poem by Gerard Manley Hopkins that my father had me memorize as a boy: Generations have trod, have trod, have trod; And all is seared with trade; bleared, smeared with toil; And wears man’s smudge and shares man’s smell: the soil Is bare now, nor can foot feel, being shod. And for all this, nature is never spent; There lives the dearest freshness deep down things; And though the last lights off the black West went Oh, morning, at the brown brink eastward, springs — Because the Holy Ghost over the bent World broods with warm breast and with ah! bright wings. More on climate change

nytimes.com Why Smaller Storms Are Growing More Fearsome, More Often Hilary Howard 5–6 Minuten Advertisement SKIP ADVERTISEMENT With Climate Change, Smaller Storms Are Growing More Fearsome, More Often The Friday storm that produced vast flooding in New York City started out earlier in the week as an unremarkable — if unpredictable — weather system. New Yorkers were taken by surprise Friday by the deluge of rain.Credit...Anna Watts for The New York Times Sign up for Your Places: Extreme Weather. Get notified about extreme weather before it happens with custom alerts for places you choose. At first, it looked as if New York would simply be grazed by light rain on Friday. David Stark, a meteorologist with the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration, said that earlier this week he was tracking what looked to be typical offshore weather. But on Wednesday night, a storm, which was supposed to stay south of the city and over the ocean, started to edge north, he said. And that changed everything. The storm ended up joining forces with another low-pressure weather system coming in from the west. “Where they converged is where the heavy rain occurred,” he said. That just happened to be right over New York City. And “that is the nature of science sometimes,” he added. It has been raining a lot in New York, which hasn’t seen a September this wet in over a century. Climate change is very likely stoking more ominous and lengthy downpours because as the atmosphere heats up, it can hold more moisture, said Andrew J. Kruczkiewicz, a senior researcher who specializes in flash floods at Columbia Climate School at Columbia University. This simple fact is the most probable explanation for why the Northeast has been so soggy, said Greg Carbin, chief of forecast operations at the National Weather Service’s Weather Prediction Center. “Low-pressure systems like nor’easters now have greater amounts of water vapor available to them,” he said. “And with a warmer Atlantic Ocean combining with warmer air, the atmosphere is primed to produce more rainfall.” Image With so much pavement in New York City, there are absorption problems when it comes to so much rain.Credit...Hiroko Masuike/The New York Times But Friday’s weather was not your typically fierce coastal nor’easter or tropical storm, Mr. Carbin said. It was a result of “smaller-scale features, like bands of heavy rainfall and scattered thunderstorms,” he said. These modest features are more “difficult to predict with any significant lead time,” he added. By Thursday, however, these smaller pieces had persuaded the National Weather Service to issue a flood watch, and by early Friday morning, stronger warnings. Every storm is unique, he said. And although patterns within the atmosphere can look similar, “they are like human fingerprints; no two are alike.” The system that soaked New York City last weekend, for example, though unpleasant, didn’t produce flooding, and that was because of rainfall intensity, Mr. Carbin said. “You can have a rainy day where you get less than a tenth of an inch per hour, but today’s rainfall was more than 10 times that amount,” he said. And in a paved-over city with absorption problems, that makes all the difference. Fall in the Northeast, when hurricane remnants and nor'easters increasingly come through, is prone to continuous, heavy rainfall, said Upmanu Lall, an engineering professor and the director of the Columbia Water Center at Columbia University. “If we just had a cloudburst during the summer, nothing much happens, because it’s possible to drain out,” he said. But with climate change, sustained rainfall is now happening in the summer as well, if the recent downpours in July, and subsequent catastrophic flooding that struck parts of Vermont and the Hudson Valley, are any example. And just as no two storms are alike, flooding also can vary, depending on whether it comes from the coast or the sky, Mr. Kruczkiewicz said. “In New York City, when we think of coastal flooding, there are areas we know that are high risk,” he said. “But flash flooding has nothing to do with tides,” he said. “It’s coming from the sky and it’s driven by intense precipitation,” so flash floods can pop up anywhere there is poor drainage infrastructure. “The water from flash floods tends to rise faster than any kind of flood,” Mr. Kruczkiewicz said. And when you add ailing infrastructure or poor drainage into the mix, he added, all bets are off.

@NoWin Erst schreibst einen absoluten Humbug und dann beschwerst Du Dich, dass Dich jemand darauf aufmerksam macht. Du kommst mir vor, wie ein Alkoholiker bei einer Intervention ohne Krankheitseinsicht. Dem kannst auch noch so viel erzählen, er wird es nicht glauben. Aber das Board ist da für Dich.

Eigentlich kann man diesen Thread zumachen. Die Skeptiker wird man in diesem Forum nicht mehr umdrehen und die Energie wäre in einer Diskussion über die Folgen und wie man diese mindert, besser aufgewendet.

Dein logischer Bruch besteht hier darin, dass es nicht in New York stärker regnet, weil die Infrastruktur veraltet ist. Spoiler Alarm: Es ist der Klimawandel, der in NY für vermehrtes Regenaufkommen sorgt. Why New York City Keeps Flooding https://www.nytimes.com/2023/09/29/nyregion/nyc-sewer-system-infrastructure.html?smid=nytcore-android-share