Virginia Climate Advisory
   
Volume 21/ Number 1/ Spring 1997
The "Halloween Storm" is shown here near its peak strength on the morning of October 30, 1991, with sustained winds of about 70 miles per hour. The entire east coast of the U.S. took a beating from this storm, which actually switched from its extratropical origin to take on tropical characteristics over the course of its five-day lifespan
In Your Advisory...
In this case, our focus is on the more common
extratropical variety- as opposed to the rarer, but generally more-savvy
tropical type. Find out where they come from, what they do, what makes
the Commonwealth of Virginia such a special case and, perhaps most
importantly, what they may wind up costing you in the long run.
Also:
Advisory Staff
Dr. Patrick J. Michaels, State Climatologist
Philip J. Stenger, Research Coordinator and Advisory Editor
Paul C. Knappenberger, Senior Analyst
Peter D. Schwartzman, Dustin Hux and Stephen Gawtry, Research Assistants
Beth Leverich and Tracy Lewis, Undergraduate Assistants
Weatherwatch:
Year 1996: Temperature Departure -0.56 F,
Precipitation 54.69 inches (129% of normal).
Year 1997 through February: Temperature departure +3.30 F,
Precipitation 5.07 inches (80% of normal).
A Note on the Data
Weatherwatch maps are based upon a variety of different data sources. Preliminary reports from the dense network of the National Climatic Data Center are used for the first two months, while a much reduced set is used for the third month, consisting of selected National Weather Service stations, a few Climatic Data Center Observers, and (for precipitation only) some volunteer data where important anomalies are suspected.
Please contact this Office before using these results for legal
or economic purposes.
SPIN DOCTORS
It's been several years since we've given
"good-ol'-low-pressure-systems" a run through the Advisory
mill, and the new awareness that climate doesn't always stay the
same provides as good an excuse as any to take up that subject again.
It has come to our attention that most people think that a low
pressure system is just some kind of mysterious vertical hole in the
atmosphere that creates a need for TV weather forecasters. Far from
it-they're actually a little more complicated than both. In
general they are far from being perfectly vertical and they often
don't do what they're forecast to. At any rate, here's our
stab at the garden-variety low pressure systems that dot the weather map
every evening. We'll even mange to conflate these windbags with
trendy climate change and glib comments (from people who probably know
better) about how this all means gloom and doom or even worse.
What we're concerned about here is known as the Extratropical Cyclone, defined as a migratory region of low pressure that forms and evolves entirely outside of the tropics. We understand that this name is a pretty bad abuse of Latin, as the prefix "Ex" means "from", rather than "never having been there." But it is a sad fact that some atmospheric scientists lack a classical education, and the few remaining purists in our audience will therefore have to put up with the Philistines in our midst. (For the rest of this article, we'll substitute "cyclone" for "extratropical cyclone" so our style becomes a bit less stilted than usual.)
Barometers measure the weight of air over a given point. The fact that cyclones are regions of low atmospheric pressure means that there's less air above a center of low pressure. This means that there's more air surrounding a cyclone, or the surrounding air weighs more. The area around low-pressure systems must be occupied by "denser" air, or air that must have a greater "thickness," or depth.
Our illustration (below) makes this perfectly clear. The curved lines are constant barometric pressure and are just like the isobars on a surface weather map, except that we are looking at a vertical, rather than horizontal, cross section. The warm air is less dense than the cold air because its molecules are moving faster. (If you have difficulty with this concept, just remember that nothing moves when the temperature is absolute zero.) So it becomes apparent that the center of low pressure has to have a cold core.
Vertical and horizontal schematics for a cyclone. The curved lines are lines of equal barometric pressure. There's more air surrounding the region of low pressure.
Obviously the fact that there's less air over the region of low pressure means that there is a net flow of air into the low pressure system, as nature "attempts to balance things out." At the surface of the planet, this means that air must "converge" towards the low. This "converged" air eventually must go up, because it can't go down into the surface of the earth.
Everything else being equal, this would make a low pressure system a pretty transient phenomenon, because the air flowing inward would soon make up for the pressure difference and all barometers would soon correct to the "normal" pressure of 29.92 inches of mercury.
In order to keep the pressure low, there has to be some mechanism higher up in the atmosphere that "diverges" away the air converged at the surface and sent aloft. For that we turn to the jet stream and the strong westerly winds that blow around the planetary midlatitudes.
These winds are hardly constant, which can be appreciated by a comparison of westbound transcontinental plane flights. Some are interminable, others just seem to fly by. The fact is that on different days, the strength of the west-to-east headwinds varies considerably. The time of flight is largely determined by whether or not you're flying directly into this jet stream or whether it is to your north or south.
These westerly winds do a good bit of wandering from day to day, and where they are blowing the hardest, they are diverging away any rising column of air that associates with a surface low pressure system. Imagine that the rising column of air is a chimney, and that the jet stream is simply the wind blowing across the top. The faster it blows, the more intensely the fire burns, as it draws in (converges) the air in the house towards the chimney, and fans out (diverges) the air away from the top.
The jet stream is also the dividing line between tropical warmth and high-latitude cold. Everywhere north of the jet, it's cold, and the opposite is true for regions to the south. So when the jet dips to the south and helps to fan up a surface low pressure system, there's also a southward excursion of cold air up in the atmosphere.
The westerly jet stream is
composed of northward and southward excursions, known as ridges and
troughs, which migrate around the planet. When a trough moves over a
region of surface convergence, low pressure systems develop.
Jet Streaks vs. Jet Streams
Like other fluid rivers, the jet stream does not flow with constant velocity. Embedded within are areas of faster and slower motion, with the fastest known as "jet streaks." These regions are usually a few hundred miles wide or so, and the local accelerations and decelerations of the air results in regions of convergence and divergence. Where there's enhanced divergence over a surface low pressure system, the barometer will continue to drop and the cyclone will intensify.
What about The Weather?
All this theoretical discussion is nice, but what does it have to do with the weather?
Cyclones form in the regions of strongest surface temperature contrast, which appear on the daily weather map as "fronts." When a southward excursion of the jet stream diverges air aloft and drops the pressure in the surface cyclone, more air rushes inwards and the boundary between the warm and cold air becomes distorted, as shown in our figure.
The northward-moving warm air is obviously more buoyant (less dense--remember good-old absolute zero?) and rides on top of the surface cold air. In the eastern U.S., most of the air south of the warm front comes either from the Gulf of Mexico or the western Atlantic, so it's pretty wet, too. When it rides over the cold air, it becomes increasingly lifted, forming clouds and precipitation.
Eventually (but not always), the warm air works its way down to the surface and completely replaces the original cold stuff. When this happens in the winter, snow turns to rain or just stops.
At any rate, the westerly wind always wins in these latitudes, so the eastward-moving cold front eventually catches up with the warm front and that eventually destroys the surface temperature contrast and, along with that, the low-level convergence necessary to fuel the cyclone.
Well, as the scribe said, "that's cyclones!."
CYCLONE COSTS AND IMPACTS
Whether they know it or not, societies have adapted to rhythm of
cyclones beat out of the jet stream. As the jet, and its attendant
cyclones migrated from the southern Great Plains to Canada each summer,
so did many of the nomadics of pre-European North America. South of the
cyclones initiated by the jet, rainfall becomes sporadic and
undependable, resulting in an equally spotty distribution of green grass
and four-legged chow. North of there, the buffalo did roam.
One would think that features as striking and distinct as cyclones
would have provoked some academic to spend a life calculating their
costs and benefits to society. But, nooo! Instead, we have only a
smattering of disconnected studies, usually financed or directed towards
special interests such as the insurance industry or agriculture.
Agriculture
Fall-planted grains, particularly winter wheat, is a
cyclone-dependent crop. In Virginia, the average planting date is in
October in the west and early November in the east--long after the
major rain-producing mechanism switches from summer type thunderstorms
and tropical systems to garden variety cyclones. The same is true for
the large region stretching from Nebraska and North Texas to the
Colorado Front Range. There, the crop is planted a bit earlier
(September and October), but the dependence upon cyclone-produced
precipitation is the same.
People in this Office have done and published a bit of academic
(i.e.-hard to read) research on this subject. We found that in the
Great Plains almost two-thirds of the component of winter wheat yield
that is due to precipitation is a result of rain and snow produced
primarily by cyclones. We suspect that a similar result applies in
Virginia.
In contrast, the other two major U.S. crops, corn and soybeans, are
not nearly as dependent upon cyclone-produced rains, because they are
planted at or near the end of the spring transition from cyclones to
summer thunderstorms. Probably less than 20% of the amount of crop
yield that can be statistically related to rainfall is generated by
cyclones.
Insurance
The insurance industry is interested in cyclones because it has been
found that the total number of cyclones observed in a given year is
strongly related to the amount of damage claims that are paid. We
touched on this in our last Advisory, when we highlighted
research by David and Stanley Changnon showing that there appears to be
a slight decline in the number of cyclones, and the damages per cyclone
show no real net change since they were first measured in the 1950s.
On the other hand, recent years have produced some whopping insurance
claims from individual storms. The Changnons found that 1990-94 period
was especially costly, in large part because of the so-(mis)-called
"Storm of the Century" in March 1993, and some pretty spectacular
flooding in the Upper Mississippi. The latter was more associated with
thunderstorms than with cyclones, but has contributed to the general
perception that the weather has been unusually nasty in the last few
years.
Some Big Storms
Different cyclones do different things. Most are beneficial. In
fact, it would be a very strange world indeed if most living things were
not adapted to the most common form of large scale atmospheric
disturbance! However, like grade-schoolers, there are a few bad actors
that give the whole crowd a lousy name. Here's our list of the three
cyclones of the last half of this century that should have been sent to
detention:
The Ash Wednesday Storm (March 6-10, 1962)
This March 1962 cyclone, known as the "Ash Wednesday Storm" for
reasons that we hope aren't completely opaque, is a landmark storm in
modern history because it was the first storm that demonstrated how the
rapid buildup of the Atlantic Coast was creating enormous property
exposures. In 1962 dollars, it caused $200,000,000 worth of damage over
a broad swath from North Carolina to Cape Cod.
No one has calculated what the cost of this storm would be today, but
it's surely not just $200,000,000 times the compounded inflation rate
over the last 30 years (even though that figure is a tidy sum!). What we
do know is that property values are WAY up. Most of the beach chacks
that got washed away in '62 turned into beachfront palaces, if not
condos, thirty years later. Roger Pielke Jr., recently estimated that
the amount of insured property along the Atlantic Coast is now
$3,100,000,000,000 (a really tidy sum!!), or nearly half of the
U.S. annual Gross National Product.
This particular storm caused much of its damage because of its long
duration and the fact that it occurred during "perigean spring
tide," which is the highest average tide in the solar-lunar cycle.
Further, a band of high pressure north of the storm stretched all the
way to England, making the east-to-west fetch of wind excessively long.
Translation: blow wind over water in one direction for 3,000 miles and
then have it all come ashore during the highest tide, and you have one
very destructive Nor'easter.
The Ash Wednesday storm also holds many of the 20th Century single-storm
and 24-hour snowfall records in piedmont Virginia, including
Charlottesville and Big Meadows in Shenandoah Park. It did lose a few,
such as Lynchburg and Roanoke to the (also-misnamed) "Blizzard of
96."
The Tornado "Super Outbreak" of 1974
Staunton, Virginia has the unlikely distinction of being the site of the
last of a remarkable 148 tornadoes spawned by a strong cyclone in the
upper midwest on April 3-4, 1974. This remains the largest single
outbreak of tornadoes recorded in the world, although it is certainly
true that similar events occurred before there were enough people and
weather types around to notice.
What made the 1974 outbreak so stellar was that the parent cyclone was
unusually strong and situated along a front that was parallel to almost
the entire gulf coast. When the storm spun up and the warm front
advanced northward, a tremendous amount of gulf moisture surged forward
at an extremely rapid rate. This made the atmosphere explosively
unstable, forming three simultaneous lines of severe thunderstorms. As
the thunderstorms grew in height, they were increasingly spun by the
parent cyclone and the jet stream, resulting in tornadoes.
The moisture movement was truly phenomenal. At at 7AM EST, the boundary
of the Gulf of Mexico moisture was located from Southern Illinois to the
North Carolina-South Carolina border. A mere 8 hours later, it
ranged from southern Wisconsin to Philadelphia. This means that the
Gulf boundary was moving forward at over 40mph, thanks to the strength
of the parent cyclone. And, thanks to this moisture, the last tornadoes
in the outbreak were in Virginia.
The "Storm of the Century" (March 12-14, 1993)
We think the title's a bit overblown, but this March, 1993 storm was
a whopper. It was sufficiently bad that, even though it was at the end
of a remarkably wimpy winter, most people wound up thinking that the
entire season was just awful.
It was a record setter for low barometric pressure at several locations
in the Mid-Atlantic and western New England. Even Norfolk, which most
people would assume ties it's record low pressure to a hurricane,
came in with an all-time figure (28.54 inches). Richmond set its record
at 28.55, and record lows were also hit at Lynchburg and Dulles Airport.
In other words, just about every long-standing record in Virginia fell.
But low barometers don't necessarily cause blizzards or newsworthy
destruction, unless the associated winds occur in the right place,
i.e.-where there are plenty of television cameras handy .
With regard to "mediagenicity," the 1993 cyclone hit the jackpot
in spades. It started off with a surprise pounding of the Cuban sugar
crop, then brought hurricane force winds and hurricane-like storm surges
over Florida. Also, the storm brought a very UN-hurricane like six
inches of snow to North Florida, which is the greatest amount in the
20th century (there were bigger totals in 1899 and 1895).
What happened? Some scientists think that an anomalously warm Gulf of
Mexico, tepid in part because of the aforementioned wimpy winter, fired
up a bunch of thunderstorms around the nascent low pressure system,
which, because of their upward motion (thunderheads build "up"),
increased the convergence of air at the surface. This blew a cyclone up
very far south and west into the Gulf, which itself provided more juice,
it being a very warm body of water, which provided more upward motion,
which provided an infinity of television videotape.
At least 243 deaths were attributed to the storm, a mortality over three
times the total from Category 4 hurricanes Andrew (1992) and Hugo
(1989), even though these two storms struck near large centers of
coastal population. David Changnon, from Northern Illinois University,
estimates the damages from this single storm were $2,800,000,000, making
it the most expensive (non-hurricane) cyclone in the history of the
nation. But because of the explosion in coastal development since 1962,
it's pretty hard to say that the 1962 Ash Wednesday storm would have
been much different if it had hit in the early 1990s.
The hallmark of the "storm
of the century," shown here at 7PM EST on March 13, 1993, was its
massive size.
A strong cyclone in Iowa,
shown here on the weather map from 3PM EST on April 3, 1974, spawned
three separate lines of tornado-producing thunderstorms (shown as
dash-dotted lines). On the morning of April 4, the last of at least 148
tornadoes touched down in Staunton, Virginia.
In Science (and, some might say, life in general) nice, clean
theoretical frameworks have a way of not working out. With regard to
cyclones and fronts in Virginia, this is an understatement.
Our picture of cyclone development becomes remarkably distorted by
our western Mountains and the Gulf Stream. In fact, that smooth warm
front often looks more like this:

The problem is that the original cold air often is draining away from big high pressure systems located over New England or southeastern Canada. Air diverges away from this cold pool but can't get much further than the mountains, which "dam" the cold air to a depth of about 4,000 feet, which is the average of the highest mountain ridges that run the entire western portion of the state.
In addition, the temperature contrast across the Gulf Stream makes it a kind of "natural" (persistent) front that gets thrown inland as a cyclone develops the the south and west. It then runs up against the cold bubble of air trapped against the mountains. This "pinching" effect creates two, often overlapping zones where the warm air is riding over the cold stuff and enhances precipitation, particularly in the winter. In fact, it is the peculiar correlation between the Gulf Stream, the western mountains, and the cold air streaming down between the two that makes piedmont Virginia an unusually snowy place for its relatively low latitude and altitude.
As shown in another sidebar, the Gulf Stream and the Blue Ridge mountains conspire to put some pretty weird kinks on the normally smooth warm fronts commonly generated by low pressure systems. As a result, warm air from the south rides over cold surface air that is trapped against the mountains, and warm air from the Gulf Stream comes in from the east.
The average depth of the trapped cold air is around 4,000 feet--or as high as the average highest ridgetops in the western portion of the state. This is obviously no accident; but it is a peculiarity of atmospheric physics that this is precisely the depth of cold air that is necessary to create snow--not much less and the best that you can come with is either sleet or sleeze (SLeet and frEEZing rain).
That makes piedmont Virginia a very unusual place for low elevation heavy snow. We took a look around the planet to see how many other places of similar latitude and altitude (37degrees and 500ft, respectively) would see 18 inches or so of snow every decade or so. Outside of the U.S, we couldn't find any. The best candidate, Ashkhabad, Turkmenestan had the altitude but didn't get enough moisture. The remaining possibility, Weifang, China, doesn't have much data available, but the northeast corner of China, including Beijing and Tsingtao, are notoriously dry in the winter.
Within the U.S., elevations of less than 500 ft that might see such snow at latitude 37 include western Kentucky and a bit of southern Missouri. But it's not as common there as it is here.
IS THE CYCLONE CLIMATE CHANGING?
Yr. Obt. Svt. recently gave a presentation to a meeting of insurance
industry executives, many of whom seemed convinced that the weather is
getting worse and that they may, well, be forced to uh, raise
premiums as a result of global warming. As you can imagine, there's
a diversity of opinion on this. Some people (called "cynics"),
like Roger Bate of Oxford University, think that it's just a ploy to
increase income for the insurance companies! Others think otherwise.
Some of the largest exposures and most spectacular damage
concentrations occur because of coastal storms, including hurricanes and
the more common cyclones to which we have devoted this Advisory .
So it seems to us like an examination of the cyclone climate along the
Atlantic coast is in order.
Heck, let's just give away the plot and fill in the details below:
We found that the cyclone climate is changing, that the changes
correlate well with 20th century temperature histories, and that
therefore it's difficult to relate them to human-induced global
warming.
Almost 20 years ago, State Climatologist Bruce Hayden and his colleague Robert Dolan, an expert on beaches and beach erosion, landed a whale of a contract from the Office of Naval Research to study coastal storms. One of the many things they did was to hire an army of students to pore over old weather maps and to catalog where and when every cyclone-including the daily, nondescript ones-appeared since 1885.
This unique record displayed some interesting changes over timeŅin particular, some long-term oscillations between eras dominated by coastal storms and others notable for their absence.
That was before climate change became trendy, and most of the findings were consigned to the academic oblivion of the stacks of the nation's science libraries. Obviously, though, the intellectual climate has changed, and now everyone, including big insurance companies, wants to know if what humans do to the atmosphere is exposing them to greater coastal risk.
As a result of all this concern, we recently updated the record of cyclone tracks through the mid 1990s, and examined their behavior, particularly in light of dreaded global warming.
A la Hayden, we applied some mathematical wizardry that breaks down the cyclone record into its most likely patterns. It does so in descending order, from the one that explains most of the history of the 110-year record, to the next most important, etc....
Reading these maps is a bit tricky. Think about the numbers as indicating "relative" frequency within a given map. The most important pattern, shown in our picture, displays both positive numbers (off the Atlantic Coast) and negatives (over the midwest and Ohio Valleys). What this means is that the most likely pattern is one in which EITHER there are a large number of Atlantic storms and few in the midwest OR the opposite-a large number of midwestern storms and few in the Atlantic.
Most climate buffs, and/or people who were lucky enough to comprehend our incomprehensible last article, will recognize that this must mean that there are some preferential locations for the jet stream troughs that initiate cyclones-either they're out in western North America or here in the east.
That's actually been known for some time, either anecdotally ("how come it always seems that when the East Coast is cold, the West Coast is hot?") or analytically, where it has been known for decades as the "PNA pattern", for "Pacific-North American" oscillation.
Now for the "cool" part: Every year, the numbers and positions of cyclones determine the strength, or index of this pattern. In years when the index is high, regions on the map that have positive numbers are likely to have above normal numbers of cyclones and vice-versa for the negative zones.
We can plot these values out on a year-to-year basis. For the most important pattern, there is a propensity of negative values in the second half of this century. As noted in our tortured prose, this means that, in general, there have been relatively more Atlantic storms and fewer in the Ohio Valley.
Time series of the first principle component of winter cyclones.
The next most likely pattern is for a winter to simply display a large or small number of coastal storms, with little change elsewhere in eastern North America. The time-history of this one shows nothing special, except a sharp uptick at the end.
The first principle component of winter cyclone tracks. Please see text for a discussion of the interpretation of this plot.
Time series of the second principle component of winter cyclones.
SIGNS OF DREADED GLOBAL WARMING?
As noted in our earlier story, the temperature contrast between polar cold and tropical warmth is what fuels the jet stream, and it is the jet that is most instrumental in fanning up cyclones. When the temperature contrast is low, the jet is lazy, headed for its usual summer vacation in Canada, and storms are weak.
Everyone concedes that a greenhouse effect warming of the planet must primarily affect the coldest airmasses at the expense of the warm ones (see box). So, as a general rule, a greenhouse warming should be accompanied by a decline in either storm strength or frequency, or some combination thereof.
Can we find any relation between the patterns of cyclones in eastern North America and temperature change in the 20th century?
The second principle component of winter cyclone tracks.
(As the audience expects yet another negative Advisory result....) Yes we can! We do find a statistically significant positive association between trends in the most important pattern of cyclone distribution (the Atlantic-Midcontinent oscillation) and hemispheric mean temperature.
Now the hard part: explaining. We're going down to the National Climatic Data Center to present this finding at a meeting where the insurance industry is seeking information on "extreme events" (read: can you give us an reason, called climate change, to raise our rates?). While space keeps us from providing Advisory fans with the tedious (and tortured) analysis, it looks like human-induced warming has little if anything to do with this because the much of the warming pattern associated with the change in cyclone tracks took place before humans could have caused it. And during the period of major greenhouse gas emissions-in the last 40 years or so-there's been no real change.
In other words, most of the change in the cyclone patterns evolved in the middle of this century, from 1930 through the mid 1950s. Too bad its not our fault.
Relationship between Northern Hemisphere temperature departures and the first principle component of winter cyclone tracks.
WHY "GREENHOUSE WARMING" IS "WINTER WARMING" A bit of science that often gets lost in the bonfire of the
greenhouse vanities: global warming caused by pernicious economic
activity must warm up the coldest airmasses a lot more than the warm
ones.
That's because the lower atmospheric temperature responds greatest
and fastest to the first changes in the greenhouse effect, and the
coldest airmasses-notably the "Siberian Express" and the
wintertime Orange tree crushers that come barreling out of
Canada-have very little natural greenhouse warming.
The most important greenhouse gas in the atmosphere is nothing
exotic at all-it's just good old water vapor. But cold airmasses, by
definition, can hold very little water at all, and tropical ones are
palpably juicy. Carbon Dioxide, contributed in small (but increasing)
parts by human beings, acts exactly like water vapor over much of its
greenhouse range. This necessarily means that the coldest (driest)
airmasses are the ones that have to respond most strongly to changes in
greenhouse gases. This, in turn, is why its a truism that greenhouse
warming must be primarily a winter phenomenon, and that it is especially
relegated to the coldest, most "hibernate-or-migrate" airmasses on
the planet.
Conclusion: By warming up the coldest airmasses rather than the warm
ones, the temperature contrast between the tropics and the poles
declines in a greenhouse world. The jet stream becomes weaker and
cyclones, by necessity, become wimpier.
THE CURRENT WISDOM is an Advisory service whose purpose is to acquaint readers with items of interest appearing in the scientific literature. Particular attention is paid to recent publications and presentations; however, we occasionally hearken back to the Wisdom of the ages.
The Wisdom is an attempt to balance
the popular perception of important issues relating to our
climatic Finally, we note that the Wisdom often spins against some
popular grain. Webster defines "wise" as "evidencing or hinting at
the possession of inside information." ********* SATELLITE UPDATE
It's been about 15 months since Advisory fans have been
bludgeoned with global temperature data from the Microwave Sounding Unit
(MSU) satellite orbiters. Since then there have been two big stories:
Global Cooling Now Statistically Significant
That is not a misprint. When averaged over the planet since the
record begins on January 1, 1979, the MSU now shows a statistically
significant cooling trend. This means that there's only a one-in-20
chance that the downward trend results from the behavior of random
(trendless) numbers. Note that graphics in the Virginia Climate
Advisory only have trend lines drawn through them when the they are
statistically meaningful, unlike a few other (Ahem!) government
publications that we know.
This is getting a bit embarrassing. The satellites are now in their
19th consecutive year of measurement. Climate models that served as the
basis for the United Nations treaty to ameliorate climate change say
there should have been about 0.6C of warming during this period.
Newer models that incorporate the cooling from other industrial
emissions as a counteraction to the warming from the greenhouse effect,
still predict significant warming of around 0.4C.
What does the United Nations' "Consensus of Scientists"
choose to do about this in it's new "Policymakers' Summary" on
global warming? Ignore it! So, if you look at the entire
chapter of their new climate treatise (and the only section anyone who
is not a climate nerd will bother to read), you won't find one
mention of the word "satellite."
"Silver Bullet" duds out
Because of the intense politicization of the global warming issue, it
shouldn't surprise anyone that millions of public dollars are being
spent trying to find something "wrong" with the satellite data.
Even as they are ignored in the U.N.'s "Policymakers'
Summary," they form a very powerful argument against the forecasts of
dramatic warming.
Global warming moderates have been remonstrated for several months
that the "silver bullet" was about to shatter the satellite data,
in the form of an article slated to appear in a spring issue of
Nature. We were shaking.
Writing in that prestigious journal, federal climatologists J.W.
Hurrell and K.E. Trenberth plugged observed surface temperatures into a
computer climate model, and when the model said that the
satellite data should be warmer, argued that THEREFORE the satellite
data are wrong.
Global satellite-based temperatures plotted monthly since the beginning of the record in 1979 show a statistically significant cooling trend.
Silly us. And we thought that the purpose of data was to check whether or not computer models are correct. Maybe only in global warming is the normal logic of science suspended!
At any rate, contrary to popular perception (and hence, here in The Current Wisdom) Hurrell and Trenberth did not claim that there was a significant warming in the satellite data. The closest they came was in the last paragraph of the paper, which alleged that, based upon their work, they thought it likely that the lower atmospheric satellite record should more resemble that for the next layer up, which shows a warming of 0.02C per decade. That's right: 1/50 of a degree per ten years. Needless to say, that's statistically insignificant. Some silver bullet.
Reference: Hurrell, J.W., and K.E. Trenberth, 1997. Spurious Trends in Satellite MSU Temperatures form Merging Different Satellite Records. Nature 386, 164-167.
The spatial distribution of trends in the satellite-based temperature record.
NWS Forecast Verification