NASA turns its technology toward the Earth to deternine what,
exactly, makes cities so hot.
by Adam Davidson
Dale Quattrochi likes to tell people that parking lots wreak havoc
on the weather. He points to the man-made stuff all around--asphalt,
concrete, tar, metal--and explains that because of parking lots,
streets, and sidewalks, because of the roofs of cars, buildings,
and houses, because of all this dark stuff coating urban surfaces,
cities are much hotter than they should be. These materials absorb
the sun's energy and concentrate its heat; above every city in
the world rises an invisible plume of heat, an "urban heat island"
several degrees hotter than the surrounding area. These higher
temperatures devastate air quality. They provoke thunderstorms
in clouds that would otherwise be placid. They make life less
bearable and cost millions of dollars in electricity every year.
People have known about the heat island effect since an amateur
climatologist named Luke Howard walked around London with a thermometer
in 1818. Since then, scientists have found that cities are heated
by a lot of very small things spread all over town. Of course,
no one has been able to determine how much heat every object adds;
such an undertaking would be impossible. But, according to Quattrochi,
only a thorough analysis of an entire city can provide the kind
of information that urban planners, architects, and others can
use to cool cities off.
Quattrochi is in a rare position to create just such a detailed
inventory. As a geologist at NASA's Global Hydrology and Climate
Center in Huntsville, Alabama, he works for the institution most
able to create comprehensive images of the energy given off by
the surface of a planet. "We're using the technology that NASA
has developed to look at outer space, and focusing it back here
on Earth," he says.
The technology--namely the Advanced Thermal and Land Applications
Sensor, or Atlas--sits on the belly of an airplane and takes high-resolution
infrared photographs of the energy given off at the planet's surface.
(It's the same technology NASA has used to study the surfaces
of Mars and Jupiter.)
Analyzed, Atlas images show exactly how much heat is released
or reflected by every house, building, block, stretch of road,
or other object more than 10 meters square. The data is plugged
into a computer operated by Haider Taha, a climatologist at the
Lawrence Berkeley National Laboratory (LBNL), who can then play
endless games of "What if?" What would happen to a city's temperature
if its roofs were all painted white? If the number of trees in
town doubled? Tripled?
Quattrochi, Taha, and six other scientists from NASA, LBNL, and
several universities around the country make up part of the Urban
Heat Island Pilot Project (UHIPP), sponsored by the Environmental
Protection Agency. This year, they've flown Atlas over Baton Rouge,
Salt Lake City, and Sacramento, three cities that have had problems
with air quality and need help in lowering their temperatures.
(Last year, in a related project, Quattrochi ran Atlas over Atlanta.)
In 1999, they will use Taha's computer modeling to explore the
heat sources of Chicago, Houston, Los Angeles, Phoenix, Tucson,
and Nashville.
If UHIPP had begun just a few years ago, the data it collects
would have been used by only a handful of scientists in the obscure
field of urban climatology, says Jeff Luvall, a NASA staff scientist
and the principal investigator on the project. "Until recently,
applications was a dirty word at NASA," he explains. "You just
did your work for the science and didn't worry about how it filtered
out to the public. You just did your journals and that was it."
Not anymore. Thanks to a recent major shift in policy, NASA is
no longer gazing only at the heavens but is seeking ways to use
its resources to improve life here on Earth. To that end, Quattrochi
and Luvall hired Maury Estes, an urban planner, to make sure that
the data collected by UHIPP is translated into terms useful to
planners, architects, legislators, and homeowners. Estes wants
to make sure that everyone who can use the data has access to
it; he has already contacted dozens of not-for-profit advocacy
groups, city and state planners, utilities, and others in the
three cities UHIPP is studying this year. By the end of 1998,
he hopes to package the data these groups and individuals want
on a CD-ROM, free to anyone who asks, and on a Web site (www.ssl.msfc.nasa.gov).
To use the data, though, laypeople first have to learn just what
causes urban heat islands. Light-colored surfaces and plant life
don't raise a city's temperature. When the sun's energy hits anything
painted white it's reflected back into the atmosphere or out to
space. And when the sun's light hits water or vegetation, much
of its energy is used to convert water into vapor, which then
cools the air.
When light hits dark materials like asphalt or tar, though, most
of its energy is converted to heat. Some heat is released right
away--which is why asphalt parking lots get so hot during the day--while
some is stored for a few hours, raising temperatures at night.
Overall, cities usually run 8 to 10 degrees Celsius hotter than
surrounding rural areas; smaller areas are even hotter. "I had
a handheld infrared thermometer in a parking lot in August in
Atlanta," Luvall recalls. "We found a black cloth roof of a Corvette
which was 90 degrees Celsius. Right next to it was a white car
that was 30 degrees." (194 and 86 degrees Fahrenheit, respectively.)
Urban heat islands cause more than personal discomfort. Higher
temperatures create a greater demand for energy, forcing utilities
to build more power plants, which create more pollution. And the
heat causes reactions in the air that convert existing chemicals
into smog.
The UHIPP data, packaged for the nonscientist, will reveal what
parts of a city add the most heat. And Taha's work at LBNL will
show what can be done to lessen their effects. But, Quattrochi
says, the things that will make cities cooler are simple: plant
more trees, paint roofs and parking lots navigation_elements/white. The UHIPP team
doesn't know yet how many trees should be planted or how many
surfaces painted, but they hope more work with Atlas and the LBNL
computer will bring them closer to the answers.
Quattrochi recognizes that painting all the roofs of a city would
be absurd, and that some cities don't have much room for more
trees. "Central to this project is the idea that cities will continue
to develop," he says. "We hope that this data will be used to
plan new development in the future. We want to learn how to make
cities more comfortable, more healthy, more highly desirable places
to live." |
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