Next time there's a hurricane, the US may not be warned

A "gap" in satelite monitoring coming up.

As Hurricane Sandy barrelled down on New York, contingency plans were already in action. Days before the storm made landfall, public transport was shut down, electric grid equipment moved and hospital patients evacuated to safer ground. Such precautions indisputably saved lives and millions of dollars, but the window in which these precautions can be taken could be about to slam shut.

Officials have been afforded this window of opportunity by the extensive coverage provided by a fleet of geostationary satellites that continually monitor meteorological developments in and around the US. The data recorded by these satellites shapes the accuracy of forecasts that have become vital during hurricane seasons that could, according to many scientists, become increasingly tempestuous.

The concern emanates from the rapidly deteriorating capabilities of these aging satellites. Systems currently relied upon to contribute towards the accuracy of weather forecasting are approaching or have exceeded their maximum life expectancy. With the launch of the next replacement satellite having slipped to 2017, scientists fear the emergence of a coverage gap that could significantly hamper National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration efforts to protect US civilians.

Although there are currently 90 Earth-sensing instruments carried aboard NASA’s fleet of weather satellites, delays to the launch of the replacement Joint Polar Satellite System mean this figure could fall to as little as 20 by the turn of the decade, an event that NRC committee chairman Dennis Hartmann has labelled as having “profound consequences on science and society”.

Hartmann’s damning indictment tends to be reinforced by statistics. Analysis of the cost of previous storms weighed against the expenditure of NASA’s weather satellites shows that for every $1 invested into space infrastructure, $5 in clean-up costs are saved. What this fails to take into account, of course, is the price of human life – an invaluable quantity that detailed and accurate forecasting has undoubtedly saved in recent years.

The realisation that such a coverage gap could occur has seen the replacement effort labelled as a “national embarrassment” by NOAA administrator Jane Lubchenco, triggering an urgent restructuring of the troubled and dysfunctional programme. Having been forced into an admission that replacement satellites could not be launched sooner, the US Government Accountability Office has labeled a coverage gap as “almost certain”.

Whether it’s due to negligence of complacency, the combination of increasing commonality of severe weather and a reduction in satellite coverage has created something of a perfect storm in itself. Forecasters will be forced to predict the implications of hurricanes with incomplete data, potentially endangering the lives of civilians. The window of opportunity could be blown in before people have the chance to board it up.

Read more here.

A flooded tunnel in New York. Photograph: Getty Images

Liam Stoker is the aerospace and defence features writer for the NRI Digital network.

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The footie is back. Three weeks in and what have we learned so far?

Barcleys, boots and big names... the Prem is back.

Another season, another reason for making whoopee cushions and giving them to Spurs fans to cheer them up during the long winter afternoons ahead. What have we learned so far?

Big names are vital. Just ask the manager of the Man United shop. The arrival of Schneiderlin and Schweinsteiger has done wonders for the sale of repro tops and they’ve run out of letters. Benedict Cumberbatch, please join Carlisle United. They’re desperate for some extra income.

Beards are still in. The whole Prem is bristling with them, the skinniest, weediest player convinced he’s Andrea Pirlo. Even my young friend and neighbour Ed Miliband has grown a beard, according to his holiday snaps. Sign him.

Boots Not always had my best specs on, but here and abroad I detect a new form of bootee creeping in – slightly higher on the ankle, not heavy-plated as in the old days but very light, probably made from the bums of newborn babies.

Barclays Still driving me mad. Now it’s screaming from the perimeter boards that it’s “Championing the true Spirit of the Game”. What the hell does that mean? Thank God this is its last season as proud sponsor of the Prem.

Pitches Some groundsmen have clearly been on the weeds. How else can you explain the Stoke pitch suddenly having concentric circles, while Southampton and Portsmouth have acquired tartan stripes? Go easy on the mowers, chaps. Footballers find it hard enough to pass in straight lines.

Strips Have you seen the Everton third kit top? Like a cheap market-stall T-shirt, but the colour, my dears, the colour is gorgeous – it’s Thames green. Yes, the very same we painted our front door back in the Seventies. The whole street copied, then le toot middle classes everywhere.

Scott Spedding Which international team do you think he plays for? I switched on the telly to find it was rugby, heard his name and thought, goodo, must be Scotland, come on, Scotland. Turned out to be the England-France game. Hmm, must be a member of that famous Cumbrian family, the Speddings from Mirehouse, where Tennyson imagined King Arthur’s Excalibur coming out the lake. Blow me, Scott Spedding turns out to be a Frenchman. Though he only acquired French citizenship last year, having been born and bred in South Africa. What’s in a name, eh?

Footballers are just so last season. Wayne Rooney and Harry Kane can’t score. The really good ones won’t come here – all we get is the crocks, the elderly, the bench-warmers, yet still we look to them to be our saviour. Oh my God, let’s hope we sign Falcao, he’s a genius, will make all the difference, so prayed all the Man United fans. Hold on: Chelsea fans. I’ve forgotten now where he went. They seek him here, they seek him there, is he alive or on the stairs, who feckin’ cares?

John Stones of Everton – brilliant season so far, now he is a genius, the solution to all of Chelsea’s problems, the heir to John Terry, captain of England for decades. Once he gets out of short trousers and learns to tie his own laces . . .

Managers are the real interest. So refreshing to have three young British managers in the Prem – Alex Neil at Norwich (34), Eddie Howe at Bournemouth (37) and that old hand at Swansea, Garry Monk, (36). Young Master Howe looks like a ball boy. Or a tea boy.

Mourinho is, of course, the main attraction. He has given us the best start to any of his seasons on this planet. Can you ever take your eyes off him? That handsome hooded look, that sarcastic sneer, the imperious hand in the air – and in his hair – all those languages, he’s so clearly brilliant, and yet, like many clever people, often lacking in common sense. How could he come down so heavily on Eva Carneiro, his Chelsea doctor? Just because you’re losing? Yes, José has been the best fun so far – plus Chelsea’s poor start. God, please don’t let him fall out with Abramovich. José, we need you.

Hunter Davies is a journalist, broadcaster and profilic author perhaps best known for writing about the Beatles. He is an ardent Tottenham fan and writes a regular column on football for the New Statesman.

This article first appeared in the 27 August 2015 issue of the New Statesman, Isis and the new barbarism