Author’s Note
My dear reader,
If you have followed thus far through the vapour trails and veiled intentions of Part I, you will know that the clouds above conceal far more than weather. In this second instalment, we again ascend into the upper reaches of the atmosphere and descend into intrigue. Holmes insists there is a mind behind the mist, a Moriarty aloft. I remain, as ever, your faithful companion, attempting to chronicle a truth stranger than fiction.
Chapter 1: A Cloud by Any Other Name
“Watson, have you considered how the typology of cirrus clouds might be woefully misunderstood?” Holmes asked, his gaze lingering upon the milky veil stretched across the afternoon sky.
I looked upward, puzzled. “I’m not sure I follow, Holmes.”
“Cirrus clouds,” he began, “are often dismissed as innocuous wisps. Yet their role in climate forcing is anything but trivial. Natural cirrus clouds are relatively ephemeral, with modest radiative effects. However, when seeded by particulates — particularly metallic ash from aviation — they assume a far more sinister aspect.”
I leaned forward, sensing the gravity in his voice. “How so?”
“These artificial cirrus,” Holmes continued, “persist far longer than their natural counterparts. They spread, thicken, and trap outgoing infrared radiation with remarkable efficiency. The public, gazing skyward, is none the wiser. They see only clouds, unaware of the industrial fingerprints woven into the fabric of the sky.”
I furrowed my brow. “But surely the effect must be minor?”
“They trap infrared radiation most effectively,” Holmes replied. “While natural cirrus clouds impose a global annual net warming of roughly +1.3 to +2.4 watts per square metre, those born of aviation, though occupying a mere sliver of the sky at any moment, contribute disproportionately. NASA's investigations reveal that contrail cirrus are twice as efficient per unit area at trapping heat.”
“Twice as efficient?” I echoed in disbelief.
“Indeed. Even a modest 7% increase in global cirrus coverage, attributable to aviation, could add between +0.14 and +0.34 watts per square metre to Earth's energy budget.”
“Now do not be deceived by those who argue that this is an insignificant amount when compared to the power of the sun, the incident solar radiation to earth's surface being ~240 watts per square metre.”
“The incident solar radiation to earth's surface is the background, relatively tiny fluctuations in that cause ice ages and greenhouse periods. Globally averaged over time, the net change in solar forcing during transitions between glacial and interglacial periods is only about ~0.2 to 0.3 W/m². So, between +0.14 and +0.34 watts per square metre is comparable to the energy of a global greenhouse period.”
He raised a finger sharply. “But mark this, Watson — that figure is averaged across the entire surface of the globe. Beneath the actual persistent cloud decks, the localized radiative forcing is far greater. A patchwork of invisible warming, strewn across the skies, nudging regional climates into unfamiliar configurations.”
A chill ran down my spine. “And this does not account for the secondary effects upon lower clouds?”
Holmes’s lips curled into a thin smile. “Astute as ever. Persistent upper-level cirrus deplete moisture and precipitation nuclei from the lower atmosphere, suppressing the formation of reflective low clouds. Thus, they not only warm directly but sabotage one of nature’s cooling mechanisms — a twofold blow, executed in perfect silence.”
I stared out at the ghostly layers above us, feeling a sudden, profound unease. “And all of this hidden in plain sight.”
Holmes nodded gravely. “Exactly, Watson. The perfect crime — one against the very climate itself.”
Chapter 2: The Spectre of Geoengineering
The lamplight flickered across the scattered papers as Holmes leaned back, steepling his fingers beneath his chin.
“Tell me, Watson—what springs to your mind when you hear the word 'geoengineering'?”
I considered for a moment. “Some fantastical scheme, no doubt. Filling the skies with aerosols to block the sun, spraying sulphur compounds from aircraft—desperate measures for desperate times.”
Holmes gave a faint smile. “Precisely the image they wish you to entertain. A colossal apparatus to dim the sunlight. But consider: what if the most effective climate intervention required no grand announcement, no exotic hardware, no new aircraft at all?”
I frowned. “You mean it could be hidden in plain sight?”
“Indeed,” Holmes said, tapping a slender finger upon a weathered monograph. “The public imagination is fixated on solar radiation management—'SAG,' as it is known. Crude in concept, fraught with risks. But a more subtle manipulation was proposed: not to block sunlight, but to alter the behaviour of clouds themselves. Not solar radiation—but thermal radiation. A quieter adjustment of the Earth’s thermal balance.”
He slid the paper toward me: Mitchell and Finnegan, 2009.
Holmes tapped the paper again.
“Mitchell and Finnegan proposed an idea most curious: to thin cirrus clouds by introducing ice-nucleating particles into the upper troposphere. Their theory was simple—seed just enough nuclei to form fewer but larger ice crystals. The result? Cirrus clouds that would rain themselves out more quickly, reducing their greenhouse effect.”
I blinked. “But that sounds the very opposite of what’s happening.”
“Exactly,” Holmes said, a glint of satisfaction in his eye. “They advocate decreasing cirrus cover to cool the Earth. Yet what do we observe? A steady increase in cirrus cloudiness—particularly over the same flight corridors that they suggest targeting.”
I frowned. “So, aviation, instead of thinning the veil, thickens it?”
“More precisely, Watson, it seeds persistent, radiatively potent cirrus clouds—not always immediately, mind you, but often delayed—through the slow dispersion of metallic ash and particulates. The public is told that jet soot is responsible. But this, I fear, is misdirection. It is not soot we must concern ourselves with—but the metallic residues embedded within the jet exhaust.”
Holmes continued, his eyes scanning the paper in front of him. “Mitchell and Finnegan suggest that by adding ice-nucleating particles—via jet fuel—into the atmosphere, we could reduce cirrus cloud cover. Their proposal centres on introducing a specific, controlled amount of nucleating material, possibly in the form of substances dissolved in fuel, or released via engine exhaust.”
“But,” I interjected, “commercial aviation has already been inadvertently adding particles to the sky—metallic residues, not soot. And rather than reducing cloud cover, it seems to be increasing it.”
Holmes smiled knowingly. “Indeed, Watson. And here lies the irony. While they propose an artificial reduction of cirrus cloudiness, routine aviation practices are unwittingly doing the opposite. The particles dispersed by jet engines form persistent, widespread cirrus clouds that linger far longer than their natural counterparts. This directly contradicts their idea of thin, temporary cirrus clouds that would cool the planet.”
I leaned forward, intrigued. “So, these seeding strategies, rather than reducing cloud coverage, might instead be contributing to more persistent cirrus clouds, trapping more heat?”
“Exactly,” Holmes replied, tapping his fingers thoughtfully. “The particles we observe—metallic ash, not soot—act as more efficient ice nuclei. They produce larger, longer-lasting ice crystals, leading to thicker cirrus layers that trap infrared radiation, not unlike the warming effects of the very clouds Mitchell and Finnegan aimed to reduce.”
I paused, considering the gravity of it. “So, what you’re saying is that aviation isn’t just a contributor to cirrus formation—it might be accelerating it in ways we’ve overlooked.”
“Precisely,” Holmes said. “Their model of seeding ice nuclei to reduce cloud cover fails to account for what we now know about the persistence of aviation-induced cirrus. The atmosphere is being seeded with particles that enhance the greenhouse effect, not diminish it. And this is not speculative, Watson—it is happening right under our noses, every time a plane takes off.”
Holmes drew a line beneath his previous notes and spoke in a deliberate tone.
“We must now address another critical point, Watson—the regional targeting suggested by Mitchell and Finnegan.”
I leaned in. “You mean their idea of focusing seeding efforts over the midlatitudes and polar regions, where warming is greatest?”
“Exactly. They propose using the density of existing flight corridors to our advantage. Curiously convenient, is it not?” Holmes arched an eyebrow. “After all, aviation is already densest over these very regions. If the unintentional seeding from aviation were increasing cirrus cover here, it would naturally contribute to regional warming acceleration.”
“So, their proposed future solution eerily mirrors what is already happening unintentionally,” I mused.
Holmes smiled thinly. “Or perhaps, Watson, not so unintentionally. The alignment is suspiciously tidy. Midlatitude and polar cirrus coverage has indeed risen since the acceleration of aviation post-1975, with upper cloudiness increasing and lower cloud cover decreasing—a shift entirely consistent with enhanced cirrus persistence.”
“And no formal program, no official policy,” I added, “just the result of everyday commerce.”
“Precisely,” said Holmes. “A covert geoengineering scheme hidden within routine activity—no need for declarations or global treaties. The warming effect, meanwhile, is amplified: cirrus clouds at higher, colder altitudes trap longwave radiation far more effectively than their lower counterparts.”
He tapped the paper again. “Mitchell and Finnegan even note that cirrus formed at colder temperatures exert the strongest greenhouse effects. This, too, matches the regions most affected by persistent contrail cirrus.”
“And yet,” I said, frowning, “the paper assumes that soot from aviation is a weak ice nucleus, uncompetitive compared to purpose-designed materials like dust.”
Holmes chuckled darkly. “A red herring, Watson. They focus on soot because it poorly nucleates ice—yet they neglect the metallic ash, the true agent at work. Unlike soot, metallic residues act much like mineral dust, providing abundant and highly efficient nucleating surfaces even at lower supersaturations.”
“So, while they dismiss soot as ineffective, they ignore the metals emitted by aviation fuel combustion?”
“Precisely,” Holmes said, his voice cold. “The omission is glaring. The metals, not soot, are what maintain the persistent cirrus veil. The entire narrative pivots around a convenient half-truth.”
Chapter 3: The Jet Fuel Connection
Holmes rose from his chair and began to pace.
“We must now dissect their central technical assumption, Watson—that only specialized ice nuclei, like mineral dust, can meaningfully alter cirrus formation, while aviation exhaust particles—particularly soot—are dismissed as ineffectual.”
I watched him carefully. “But if it’s not the soot, Holmes, then what is it?”
“The metals,” Holmes snapped, spinning around. “Combustion of jet fuel, especially the heavy blends used in aviation, emits fine metallic ash—submicron particles containing aluminum, barium, strontium, and other metallic compounds. These act as highly efficient ice nuclei, every bit as potent as natural dust.”
I considered this. “So even without any deliberate seeding, these metallic particles are suspended in the atmosphere, awaiting the right conditions to activate.”
Holmes nodded. “Exactly. Unlike soot, which requires high supersaturation to nucleate, metallic ash can catalyze ice formation at much lower thresholds. The Mitchell and Finnegan model assumes that without intervention, the atmosphere is dominated by homogeneous freezing or inefficient soot nucleation. They ignore the reality: aviation already supplies a constant stream of potent ice nucleators.”
“Invisible to the eye—and unaccounted for in the official calculations,” I said grimly.
“Quite so. Their entire theoretical framework rests upon an absence that does not exist. Meanwhile, the accumulation of these metallic particles over time primes the atmosphere, enabling broad, delayed, and dispersed cirrus formation — precisely the warming effect they seek to avoid.”
Holmes picked up a pen and scribbled a few notes:
Metallic ash = mineral dust surrogate → efficient IN → persistent cirrus → warming.
“In short, Watson, what they propose to do with artificial seeding is already being done—unintentionally or otherwise—by routine aviation operations. And the effect, rather than cooling, has been a slow, relentless warming of the troposphere.”
Chapter 4: The Game Above the Clouds
Holmes sat down again, steepling his fingers beneath his chin.
“You see, Watson, once one accepts that this inadvertent seeding has been ongoing for decades, the question naturally arises: cui bono? Who benefits from a planet incrementally warmed by invisible means?”
I frowned. “Surely not those who will suffer the consequences.”
Holmes smiled thinly.
“On the contrary, there are powerful interests who stand to gain. Consider the economic landscape, Watson. A warmer world opens previously inaccessible resources: Arctic oil, gas, minerals. Longer growing seasons in temperate zones. New shipping routes. Entire industries would pivot to exploit such shifts.”
“And the fossil fuel giants?” I ventured.
“Precisely. The very corporations responsible for refining the aviation fuels—the Big Oil consortiums—are deeply invested in both aviation and the potential spoils of a warmer planet. They provide the fuel that emits the metallic ash. They bankroll studies to downplay the warming role of aviation. And they invest in ‘climate adaptation’ infrastructure to profit from the chaos they help create.”
Holmes tapped his notebook.
“The genius of it, Watson, lies in its plausibility. Aviation is indispensable. No one questions the jet trails overhead. The warming is incremental, diffused across decades. And all the while, the public is distracted by theatrical discussions of speculative geoengineering ‘solutions’—while the true geoengineering proceeds unnoticed under the steady thrum of everyday air traffic.”
I stared into the fireplace, the implications swirling like smoke.
“It is Moriarty’s hand again, Holmes—an invisible hand guiding the storm.”
Holmes’s voice was grim.
“Indeed, Watson. A conspiracy not of secrecy, but of inevitability.”
Epilogue: A Tapestry of Shadows
Holmes stood by the window, watching the cirrus tendrils unfurl across the evening sky.
“Watson, what we have uncovered is but a single thread in a vast tapestry. A climate altered not by overt schemes, but by the invisible drift of industry, commerce, and ambition.”
I followed his gaze, feeling a chill.
“And the world, Holmes?” I asked. “Does it not deserve to know?”
Holmes’s smile was tinged with melancholy.
“It deserves the truth, my dear fellow. Whether it is ready to face it — that remains the great question.”
He turned away, the firelight catching the sharp lines of his profile.
“Our case is not yet closed, Watson. There are deeper currents to uncover.”
References & Source Material
Mitchell, D.L., & Finnegan, W. (2009). Modification of cirrus clouds to reduce global warming. Environmental Research Letters, 4(4), 045102. https://iopscience.iop.org/article/10.1088/1748-9326/4/4/045102
Bock, L., & Burkhardt, U. (2019). Contrail cirrus radiative forcing for future air traffic. Atmospheric Chemistry and Physics, 19(12), 8163–8174.
Kärcher, B. (2018). Formation and radiative forcing of contrail cirrus. Nature Communications, 9(1), 1824.
Chen, T., Rossow, W.B., & Zhang, Y. (2000). Radiative effects of cloud-type variations observed from ISCCP. Journal of Climate, 13(2), 264–286.
Hartmann, D.L., Ramanathan, V., Berroir, A., & Hunt, G.E. (1992). Earth radiation budget data and climate research. Reviews of Geophysics, 30(2), 193–208.
DeMott, P.J., et al. (1999, 2002, 2009). Studies on ice nucleation by soot and biomass combustion aerosols.
NASA MODIS/CERES Observations: Global cloud cover trends and infrared radiation analysis.
ISCCP Data: International Satellite Cloud Climatology Project reports on cloud cover changes, 1980–present.
Relevant public domain aviation emission studies (including IPCC Aviation and the Global Atmosphere 1999 report).
The Seven Percent Solution Part I
Coming Soon: Part III – The Chemtrail Crossover
Holmes and Watson confront a peculiar paradox: the so-called chemtrail conspiracy theorists, so often dismissed, stumbled unknowingly onto fragments of a hidden reality.
Where does their narrative align with the truth we have uncovered — and where does it diverge into fantasy?
In the next instalment, the great detective sifts fact from fiction, illusion from evidence, and exposes how deliberate disinformation may have cloaked a very real climate manipulation in ridicule and confusion.
The investigation deepens. The fog begins to lift.
I hope this is not a spoiler for part 3 but, would you believe it… nano particles are actually added to the fuel, and one of the reasons is to (AI) “improve the environmental impact of jet fuels.
(The following was generated by AI so needs checking. Compelling nonetheless.)
Found 7 relevant pages for: "jet fuel additives containing metal components"
Jet fuel additives containing metal components are designed to enhance various properties of the fuel, such as combustion performance, emission reduction, and stability. Here are some key types of metal-based jet fuel additives:
Alumina Nanoparticles: These nanoparticles are added to gas-to-liquid (GTL) jet fuels to improve spray performance. The addition of alumina nanoparticles enhances the sheet breakup process and affects droplet size and velocity, which can lead to better atomization and combustion characteristics.
Reactive Metal Nanopowders (RMNP): These include materials like titanium-aluminum (Ti-Al), titanium-boron (Ti-B), and titanium-aluminum-boron (Ti-Al-B) nanopowders. They are used to improve the oxidation and combustion properties of jet fuels, particularly in high-performance engines like those in ramjets and scramjets.
Pre-stressed Aluminum (Al): This type of additive is used to enhance the energy density of jet fuels. The primary objective is to unravel the fundamental reaction mechanisms and kinetics involved in the oxidation of jet fuel when doped with pre-stressed aluminum, which can lead to the development of high-energy-density fuel materials.
α-Aluminum Hydride (AlH3): Similar to pre-stressed aluminum, α-aluminum hydride is used to improve the energy density and combustion performance of jet fuels. The addition of these metal-based additives can help in achieving better fuel efficiency and performance in air-breathing engines.
These additives are typically used in specialized applications where high performance and efficiency are critical, such as in military and advanced civilian aircraft. The use of metal-based additives can also help in reducing emissions and improving the overall environmental impact of jet fuels.