Over the past 90 years, the field of meteorology, and specifically weather analysis and prediction, has developed from what many once considered an art into one of the few scientific fields that can predict the future of a chaotic system accurately—and often several days out, at that!
Early advances came from names that are now globally recognized in atmospheric science textbooks, such as Vilhelm Bjerknes, Carl-Gustav Rossby, Jule Charney, and Reginald Sutcliffe. Models and predictions that now seem mundane were significant advances of the first half of the 20th century, such as the Norwegian cyclone model of 1922, the discovery of the jet stream in the 1920s, and the first successful numerical weather prediction in 1950.
Other developments, such as satellite meteorology and other forms of remote sensing, created new branches of meteorology that have allowed us to expand on the knowledge and understanding garnered from earlier theoretical advances. That synthesis has created the framework for a new generation of meteorologists to shape the field that we know today.
More recently, it seems that large strides forward in theory are becoming less common as atmospheric science shifts toward becoming based primarily on practical applications. One could argue that the shift means that atmospheric scientists now know all there is to be learned about the atmosphere, but nearly everyone involved would quickly refute such a claim. Simply knowing the atmosphere is a long way from truly understanding it.
Vilhelm Bjerknes. The oil painting by Rolf Gorven hangs at the University of Bergen's Geophysical Institute, where Bjerknes helped to establish the modern science of weather forecasting in the early 20th century. CREDIT: Geophysical Institute
Much recent work has focused on analyzing the mountains of data available to a modern meteorologist. With the advent of technologies that allow for increasingly quick information exchange, analyzing data as they fit into a strong and often pre-existing theoretical framework has become surprisingly simple.
Now it is not uncommon for undergraduate atmospheric science coursework to feature at least one case study of a past event, in which data can be applied in a controlled, hands-on fashion. Such case studies help teach historical, foundational theories, and serve as excellent tools to assess students’ understanding and their application of course knowledge to real-world problems.
Atmospheric science students’ postgraduate prospects have changed, too. Although the number of jobs with the federal government—specifically the National Weather Service—remains nearly constant, positions in the private sector have increased. Private-sector jobs present an attractive option to those who are financially motivated as well as those who appreciate interdisciplinary work.
Both public and private sector opportunities for early-career atmospheric scientists tend to focus on operational practices and products—that is, developing special tools for clients, for instance, or producing specialized forecasts. Although such arrangements benefit the company and the young employee, they will not advance the broader field of atmospheric science, due to restrictions on publishing proprietary research.
Jule Charney. Beginning the 1950s Charney pioneered the use of computers in weather prediction. CREDIT: MIT Museum
Another common goal for undergraduate atmospheric science students is to attend graduate school, where financial support from a combination of teaching opportunities, research grants, and student loans allows students to pursue an advanced degree. Research opportunities afford most graduate students time to indulge in the theoretical side of atmospheric science.
Dauntingly for theory-minded graduate students, there seems to be fewer ideas that break ground for others to expand upon. The task of developing a theory that withstands the tests presented by the “big data” available today seems more imposing than ever before. Nevertheless, the discipline needs young scientists to develop a strong theoretical background, a teeming curiosity, and a proclivity to succeed without fear of failure for the continued growth of atmospheric science.
Developing a respectable theory takes considerable time, effort, and experience—a combination that rarely arises outside of an environment that emphasizes novel research. And even though funding for supporting such environments is increasingly unreliable, the number of graduate students choosing a research-oriented career remains steady. Moreover, the National Science Board (NSB) shows that the number of bachelor’s degrees awarded each year in Earth, atmospheric, and oceanic sciences increased 13% between 2000 and 2009. As a result, those choosing research careers in atmospheric sciences face uncertain prospects.
Over the same period, the annual number of master’s degrees awarded is up 17%, doctoral degrees 25%, according to NSB's Science and Engineering Indicators (2012). The increased rate of awarding degrees suggests a job market where each entry-level research-focused position is more highly contested. Candidates that may have been considered well-qualified in years will undoubtedly be forced to consider other career avenues.
And yet there is still much to be learned about atmospheric science, both in nascent and mature parts of the field. The work to be done is crucial for the advancement of the science, despite inequalities in funding, interest, and participation. And while atmospheric science does indeed stand to benefit from computational tools and statistical techniques that require relatively little meteorological knowledge, the need remains for fundamental meteorological analysis and theory.
When textbooks are written 50 years from now, what discoveries will they include from this era? Will any of it merit a stand-alone lecture? Whose name will be on the equation or principle being discussed? Fundamentally, will atmospheric scientists still be relevant? I certainly hope that dynamic and novel thinking will be foundational to the role of atmospheric scientists in a theoretical future.
Kyle Griffin is a PhD student at the University of Wisconsin-Madison, where he studies the north Pacific jet stream, its variability, and its interactions with tropical convection.
