
Given the destruction and loss of life caused by such storms, the idea of diverting them is tempting. This summer, President Trump reportedly asked senior officials to explore using nuclear weapons to divert hurricanes from the U.S. This misguided notion is so popular that the website of the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration (NOAA) includes an explanation of the reasons it is not a good idea (think radioactive fallout).
While trying to direct the course of a massive hurricane may sound farfetched, the idea was once pursued seriously. In the wake of World War II, many believed that control of the weather was feasible, making it possible to change the path of damaging storms and deliver rainfall to drought-stricken communities.
Cloud seeding, the basic tool for modifying clouds and therefore hurricanes, was first developed in 1946 by researchers at General Electric, who noticed that dry ice caused the clouds created by their own breath to produce snow inside the company’s new home freezers. The dry ice acted as an artificial nucleus, encouraging super-cooled water to form crystals of snow and release heat.
That technique—modified to use tinier and more effective crystals of silver iodide—was soon put to use in real clouds, to see if rain could be produced. Results were mixed, but projects in small-scale weather control continued, with enthusiasm high in arid Western states.
Almost immediately interest extended from individual clouds to entire hurricanes. By October 1947, scientists working on the government-funded Project Cirrus made the first attempt to modify a hurricane. The results were alarming. After seeding, the hurricane, east of Jacksonville, Fla., abruptly changed its course, reversing track and heading west before making landfall on the coast of Georgia and South Carolina and causing a public outcry.
It was impossible to know whether the seeding had caused the change in direction, but the episode certainly raised concern over the prospects of weather control. Nevertheless, the thought of controlling one of the most destructive natural forces on earth remained appealing.
Following a series of devastating hurricanes in 1954 and 1955, Congress allocated funding for a National Hurricane Research Project. Promising results from a test made on Hurricane Esther in 1961 paved the way for a joint effort of the Navy and the U.S. Weather Bureau called Project Stormfury.
It was decided to attempt to modify hurricanes only in a safe zone far enough from coastal regions to avoid unintended landfall. In 1963, the Stormfury team carried out two modification attempts on Hurricane Beulah. On the first attempt, the seeding material missed the right clouds, and the storm remained unchanged. On the second, the seeding was on target and maximum winds declined by 20%.
A lack of suitable hurricanes for seeding frustrated further attempts until 1969, by which time researchers had revised their understanding of the storms. They tested a new strategy on Hurricane Debbie by dropping more than 1,000 silver iodide capsules into the storm. The hurricane seemed to respond, with a reduction of wind speed. The only other hurricane to be seeded under the program was Ginger in 1971, with inconclusive results.
As it turned out, Hurricane Debbie was to be the high point of Project Stormfury. The program stalled during the 1970s thanks to a lack of hurricanes in the target area. Scientists decided the apparent successes of the past might have been the result of mere chance rather than seeding. Project Stormfury was eventually cancelled in 1983 and considered a failure.
Today, no one is seriously pursuing the idea of modifying hurricanes. It is no longer assumed that reducing the intensity, or wind speed, of a hurricane would be beneficial. Since rainfall or storm surge rather than winds cause the most damage, it’s unclear how much good you are doing by turning a small intense storm into a larger but weaker storm.
It’s clear that we still have a lot to learn about nature’s fury in the form of hurricanes, and perhaps new ideas for modifying storms will be developed in the future.
Jerry Lincecum is a retired Austin College professor who now teaches classes for older adults who want to write their life stories. He welcomes your reminiscences on any subject: jlincecum@me.com