Monitoring of nuclear tests

 

In the Australian outback, we’re listening for nuclear tests – and what we hear matters more than ever

ANU Media

Hrvoje Tkalčić, Australian National University

Tyres stick to hot asphalt as I drive the Stuart Highway from Alice Springs northward, leaving the MacDonnell Ranges behind. My destination is the Warramunga facility, about 500 kilometres north – a remote monitoring station I’ve directed for the Australian National University for nearly 19 years, and one of the most sensitive nuclear detection facilities on Earth.

When I started exploring Earth’s inner core in 1997, I had no idea my calling would lead me here, or that I’d spend years driving this highway through the red expanse of the Australian outback.

And today, as the New START treaty curbing the US and Russian nuclear weapons programs expires, the work we do in the red centre has become more important than ever before.

A giant telescope pointed at Earth’s centre

Located 37km southeast of Tennant Creek – or Jurnkkurakurr, as it’s known in the local Warumungu language – Warramunga consists of what might generously be called a demountable building, surrounded by sensors lined up across 20km of savannah, covered by red soil and long, white spinifex grass.

The facility operates two sophisticated arrays. One consists of 24 seismometers detecting vibrations through Earth, the other eight infrasound sensors picking up ultra-low-frequency sound waves inaudible to human ears.

When North Korea detonated its largest nuclear device in September 2017 – about 7,000km away – our instruments captured it clearly. Warramunga detected all six of North Korea’s declared nuclear tests, and our data was among the first to reach the International Data Centre in Vienna.

The Warramunga station is near Tennant Creek in the Northern Territory. Nearmap, CC BY

The geological stability and remoteness mean we detect events that might be masked elsewhere. When a wild brumby gallops past our sensors, we pick it up. When a nuclear bomb is tested on the other side of the world, we definitely know about it. We can distinguish it from an earthquake because of the different kinds of vibrations it produces.

Warramunga detects more seismic events than any other station in the global network. With multiple instruments in a carefully designed configuration, far from the coast and human activity, you have something like a giant telescope pointed at the centre of Earth.

An unusual partnership

Warramunga’s story began in 1965 when Australia and the United Kingdom jointly established it for nuclear test detection during the Cold War. In 1999, it was upgraded and later certified as a primary station in the Comprehensive Nuclear-Test-Ban Treaty Organization’s International Monitoring System.

The CTBTO, headquartered in Vienna, operates a global network of more than 300 facilities designed to detect any nuclear explosion anywhere on Earth. Australia hosts 21 of these facilities – the third-largest number globally.

But Warramunga is unique. It’s operated by a university on behalf of both the CTBTO and the Australian government, located on Warumungu Country. The location of sensors was determined in consultation with Traditional Owners to ensure the instruments would not interfere with sacred sites.

The Research School of Earth Sciences at the Australian National University in Canberra has managed Warramunga for more than 50 years, and we still do.

Life at the station

The station requires constant attention. Two dedicated technicians drive from Tennant Creek to the array each morning. By the time they arrive, the Sun is already high above the red land across which the array’s elements and termite mounds are spread.

They keep a careful watch on the world’s earthquakes and explosions, enduring extreme heat, dust, flies, fires, floods, thunderstorms and the occasional visit from wildlife. They ensure data flows continuously via satellite to Vienna.

After one infrastructure reconstruction, we found two large goannas wrapped around a seismometer, having decided to spend their nights in the firm embrace of our equipment. You don’t learn about this kind of challenge in Vienna’s United Nations offices.

Detectors at Warramunga. Hrvoje Tkalčić, CC BY

From Canberra, I coordinate between the on-site team, the Australian government, and our partners at the CTBTO. At least once a year, I make the drive up the Stuart Highway to Warramunga, checking equipment and discussing challenges with the technicians.

I also meet regularly with colleagues at the United Nations in Vienna. Managing this facility means bridging two worlds: the practical realities of maintaining sensitive equipment in a harsh environment and the international diplomacy of nuclear verification.

Why it matters now

For more than 30 years, the world has observed a de facto moratorium on nuclear explosive testing. The last US test was in 1992. Russia’s was in 1990.

This norm has been crucial in limiting nuclear weapons development. Verification systems such as Warramunga make this possible, because would-be violators know any significant nuclear explosion will be detected.

But this system faces its greatest challenge in decades. In October 2025, President Donald Trump announced the United States would begin testing nuclear weapons “on an equal basis” with Russia and China.

Days later, President Vladimir Putin directed Russian officials to prepare for possible nuclear tests. If this moratorium collapses, it opens the door to a new era of nuclear arms racing.

This is when verification becomes most crucial. The CTBTO’s network doesn’t just detect violations – its existence deters them. If the world knows a country has carried out a nuclear test and tried (but failed) to hide it, the testing country will face political consequences.

A hidden contribution

Warramunga’s data also helps researchers understand earthquakes, study Earth’s deep interior, such as the solid inner core, and track phenomena from meteorite impacts to Morning Glory clouds – extraordinary atmospheric waves travelling 1,400km from Cape York, first scientifically documented with Warramunga’s infrasonic array in the 1970s.

What strikes me after nearly two decades is how this unique partnership represents a remarkable example of academic institutions contributing directly to global security.

Few people realise that a university research school operates one of the world’s most crucial nuclear verification facilities. It’s an arrangement that brings together fundamental scientific research with practical obligations under international treaties – a model for how researchers can engage with pressing global challenges.

As nuclear rhetoric intensifies globally, the quiet technical work in the Australian outback gains new significance. Nuclear test monitoring is essential to deter would-be nuclear nations – and that’s a mission worth maintaining, even from the remote red centre of Australia.

Hrvoje Tkalčić, Professor, Head of Geophysics, Director of Warramunga Array, Australian National University

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

Environment - Climate Change - cities are becoming hotter

 

We know how to cool our cities and towns. So why aren’t we doing it?

A/Prof. Elmira Jamei, Victoria University

This week, Victoria recorded its hottest day in nearly six years. On Tuesday, the northwest towns of Walpeup and Hopetoun reached 48.9°C, and the temperature in parts of Melbourne soared over 45°C. Towns in South Australia also broke heat records.

This heatwave is not an outlier. It is a warning shot.

These weather conditions rival the extreme heat seen in the lead-up to the 2019–20 Black Summer, and they point to a future in which days like this are no longer rare, but routine.

What makes this summer so confronting is not just how hot it has been, but this: Australia already knows how to cool cities, yet we are failing to do it. Why?

Urban heat is not inevitable

Cities heat up faster and stay hotter than surrounding areas because of how they are built. Dense development, dark road surfaces, limited shade, and buildings that trap heat and rely heavily on air-conditioning create the “urban heat island” effect.

This means cities absorb vast amounts of heat during the day and release it slowly at night, preventing the city from cooling down even after sunset. During heatwaves, this trapped heat accumulates day after day and pushes temperatures well beyond what people can safely tolerate.

Future urbanisation is expected to amplify projected urban heat, irrespective of background climate conditions. Global climate change is making the urban heat island effect worse, but much of the heat we experience in cities has been built in through decades of planning and design choices.

Hot cities are not only a result of climate change, they are also a failure of urban planning. zpagistock/Getty

Heat is a health and equity crisis

Heatwaves already kill more than 1,100 Australians each year, more than any other natural hazard. Extreme heat increases the risk of heart and respiratory disease, worsens chronic illness, disrupts sleep and overwhelms health services.

Poorly designed and inadequately insulated homes, particularly in rental and social housing can become heat traps. People on low incomes are least able to afford effective cooling, pushing many into energy debt or forcing them to endure dangerously high temperatures. Urban heat deepens existing inequalities. Those who contributed least to the problem often bear the greatest burden.

Australia has expertise, but not ambition

Here is the paradox. Australia is a major contributor to global research on urban heat. Australian researchers are developing national tools to measure and mitigate urban heat, and studies from cities such as Melbourne have quantified urban heat island intensity and investigated how urban design can influence heat stress.

Additionally, Australia already has the technologies to cool cities, from reflective coatings and heat-resilient pavements to advanced shading systems. Yet many of our cities remain dangerously hot. The issue isn’t a lack of solutions, but the failure to roll them out at scale.

Internationally, we are lagging behind countries where large-scale heat mitigation projects are already reducing urban temperatures, cutting energy demand and saving lives.

For example, Paris has adopted a city-wide strategy to create “cool islands”, transforming public spaces and schoolyards into shaded, cooler places that reduce heat stress during heatwaves.

In China, the Sponge City program, now implemented in cities such as Shenzhen and Wuhan, uses green infrastructure and water-sensitive design to cool urban areas and reduce heat stress.

Paris has a city-wide strategy to create cool zones by transforming public spaces into shaded environments. 42 North/Unsplash, CC BY

Symbolic change can’t meet the challenge

Too often, urban heat policy stops at small, symbolic actions, a pocket park here, a tree-planting program there. These measures are important, but they are not sufficient for the scale of the challenge.

Greening cities is essential. Trees cool streets, improve thermal comfort and deliver multiple health and environmental benefits. But greenery has limits. If buildings remain poorly insulated, roads continue to absorb heat and cooling demand keeps rising, trees alone will not protect cities from extreme temperatures in the coming decades.

Urban heat is a complex systems problem. It emerges from how cities are built, and is largely shaped by construction materials, building codes, transport systems and planning decisions locked in over generations. Scientists know a great deal about how to reduce urban heat, but many responses remain piecemeal and intuitive rather than systemic.

Designing an uncomfortable future

Research suggests that even if global warming is limited to below 2°C, heatwaves in major Australian cities could approach 50°C by 2040. At those temperatures, emergency responses alone will not be enough. Beyond certain temperature thresholds, behaviour change, public warnings and cooling centres cannot fully protect people.

The choices we make now about buildings, streets, materials and energy systems will determine whether Australian cities become increasingly unliveable, or remain places where people can safely live, work and age.

The battle against urban heat will be won or lost through design, technology, innovation and political will. Cities need to deploy advanced cool materials across roofs, buildings and roads, in combination with nature-based solutions. This will only work if governments use incentives to reward heat-safe design. Heat must be planned for systematically, not treated as a cosmetic problem.

With leadership and a handful of well-designed, large-scale projects, Australia could shift from laggard to leader. We have the science. We have the industry. We have the solutions. The heat is here. The only real question is whether we act, or keep absorbing it.

A/Prof. Elmira Jamei, Associate professor, Victoria University

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

Health - Fish oil and Omega 3 benefits and limitations

 

Should I take a fish oil supplement for my heart, joints or mood?

Mary Bushell, University of Canberra

Fish oil, also known as omega-3, is one of the most popular dietary supplements. It’s often promoted to protect the heart, boost mood, reduce inflammation and support overall health.

But how much of this is backed by science, and when might fish oil supplements actually be worth taking?

A long history

People have been taking oils from fish for centuries.

Modern interest surged in the 1970s when scientists studying Inuit diets discovered omega-3 fatty acids and their heart-protective effects.

By the 1980s, fish oil capsules were being marketed as an easy way to get these healthy fats.

What’s in fish oil?

Fish oil comes from oily fish such as salmon, sardines, tuna, herring and mackerel. It’s rich in a special type of fat called omega-3 polyunsaturated fatty acids (PUFAs), mainly EPA (eicosapentaenoic acid) and DHA (docosahexaenoic acid).

These omega-3s play an important role in how our cells function. Every cell in the body is surrounded by a thin, flexible layer called a cell membrane. This membrane works like a protective skin: it keeps the cell’s contents safe, controls what moves in and out, and helps cells communicate with one another.

Omega-3s don’t build the membrane itself, but they slot into it, becoming part of its structure. This helps the membrane stay fluid and flexible, allowing it to work more efficiently, especially in tissue that relies on fast, precise signalling, such as in the brain and eyes.

Because we can’t make enough omega-3s on our own, we need to get them from food or, sometimes, supplements.

How are fish oil supplements made?

After fish are caught, their tissues are cooked and pressed to release oil. This crude oil is purified and refined to remove impurities including heavy metals such as copper, iron and mercury.

During processing, the oil may be concentrated to boost its EPA and DHA content.

The purified oil is then encapsulated in soft gels or bottled as liquid oil.

Some supplements are further treated to reduce odour or the familiar “fishy” aftertaste.

Fish oil and heart health

Omega-3 fatty acids are best known for their role in heart health, particularly for lowering triglycerides, a type of fat in the blood that, when elevated, can increase the risk of heart disease.

A 2023 paper pooled 90 clinical trials with more than 72,000 participants and found a near linear relationship between dose and effect. That doesn’t mean “more is always better”, but higher doses tended to produce bigger improvements in heart-related risk factors.

It found you need more than 2 grams per day of EPA and DHA combined to meaningfully lower triglycerides (by 15 to 30%). This is most relevant for people with existing heart disease, high triglycerides, or obesity.

But it’s important to read the label. A “1,000 mg” fish oil capsule usually refers to the total oil weight of the oil, not the active omega-3 content. Most standard capsules contain only about 300 mg of combined EPA and DHA the rest is other fats.

At lower doses, changes in blood fats were modest. The same analysis suggested low-dose fish oil may even nudge LDL or “bad” cholesterol up slightly, while having only a small effect on triglycerides.

At lower doses, any changes to heart health are modest. Pixabay/Pixels

A 2018 trial tested a high-strength purified EPA product (4 grams per day) in people already taking statins to lower their cholesterol. Over five years, it prevented one major heart event (heart attack, stroke or urgent procedure) for every 21 people treated. However this was a prescription-only pharmaceutical-grade EPA, not a standard fish-oil capsule.

In Australia, fish oils are sold in pharmacies, health food stores and supermarkets. Some concentrated products are available as “practitioner-only” supplements via health professionals.

The same purified EPA used in the 2018 trial is now available in Australia as Vazkepa, a prescription-only medicine. It was added to the Pharmaceutical Benefits Scheme (PBS) in October 2024, making it more accessible for high-risk patients.

For otherwise healthy people, the evidence that standard fish oil supplements prevent heart attacks or strokes is much less convincing.

What about arthritis and joint pain?

Fish oil has mild anti-inflammatory effects.

In people with inflammatory arthritis (such as rheumatoid arthritis), omega-3s can reduce joint tenderness and morning stiffness.

These benefits, however, require higher consistent doses, usually around 2.7g of EPA and DHA per day. This is the equivalent of around nine standard 1,000mg fish oil capsules (containing 300 mg of EPA and DHA) daily for at least eight to 12 weeks.

Can fish oil improve mood?

Some studies suggest omega-3s, particularly those higher in EPA, can modestly reduce symptoms of clinical depression when taken alongside antidepressants.

A 2019 review of 26 trials (involving more than 2,000 people) found a small overall benefit, mainly for EPA-rich formulations at doses up to about 1 gram per day. DHA-only products didn’t show clear effects.

That doesn’t mean fish oil is a mood booster for everyone. For people without diagnosed depression, omega-3 supplements haven’t been shown to reliably lift mood or prevent depression.

How much can you take?

For most people, fish oil is safe.

Common side effects include a fishy aftertaste, mild nausea and diarrhoea. Taking capsules with food or choosing odourless or “de-fishified” products can help.

Prescription strength products such as Vazkepa (high-dose EPA) are also well tolerated, but they can slightly increase the risk of irregular heartbeat (atrial fibrillation) and bleeding.

Up to 3 grams per day of combined EPA and DHA from supplements is generally considered safe for most adults.

Higher doses for specific medical conditions should be taken under medical supervision.

So, should you take it?

The Heart Foundation recommends Australians eat two to three serves of oily fish a week. This would provide 250–500 mg of EPA and DHA per day.

If you don’t eat fish, a fish oil supplement (or algal oil if you’re vegetarian or vegan) can help you meet your omega-3 needs.

If you have heart disease (with high triglycerides) or inflammatory arthritis, fish oil may offer extra benefits. But dose and product type matter, so speak with a health professional.

For most people, though, two or three serves of oily fish each week remain the simplest, safest and most nutritious way to get omega-3s.

Mary Bushell, Clinical Associate Professor in Pharmacy, University of Canberra

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

Environment - microplastics - documentary: 'Plastic People'

Environment - shark attacks in Australia

Figure 1 Source: The Conversation (c) 2025 and NSW Government Sharksmart

Shark attacks against humans in the ocean are not regular incidents in Australia despite the number of people swimming/diving/surfing in the sea and the proximity of numerous species of shark. The recent 4 attacks in 48 hours in the coastline of NSW is unusual and has given rise to discussion as to the reasons why this activitry is occuring. Figure 1 (above) shows the most common species of shark responsible for attacks over the past thirty years. Some of the shark species are known for being ocean hunters (Great White, Tiger shark) while others are well known as species found in harbours, river estuaries and inlets (Bull shark). Figure 2 below provides the statistical data of shark incidents showing that the Great White shark is by far the greatest source of attacks.

The recent spate of attacks and a more broad trend of shark activity is conisdered by several marine scientists as being linked to land activities and the impact on the ocean. The washing offshore of runoff of pesticides, waste, organic nutrients and other waste together with murky water from storms creates a perfect hunting environment for predatory sharks as bait fish become more plentiful. When humans enter that environment, they are at susbstantial risk. Shark behaviour is also not well understood and continues to be the subject of research by marine biologists. 

Figure 2: Source: The Conversation 2025

Figure 3 below provides a map of the location of the shark incidents around the Australian continent. The northern part of the continent around the coastline of northern Western Australia and the Northern Territory has far fewer attacks. This region has a sparse population and the geography is a harsh wilderness or national parks such as Kakadu National Park. The dominant species and apex predator in Northern Australia is the saltwater crocodile not the shark.

Figure 3: Source: The Conversation (c) 2025

Environment - the scourge of microplastics

                                            
Source: AI generated images. 

      

Environment - Bushfires can create weather

When bushfires make their own weather

Jason Sharples, UNSW Sydney; Andrew Dowdy, The University of Melbourne; Luke Burgess, The University of Melbourne, and Todd Lane, The University of Melbourne

Bushfires are strongly driven by weather: hot, dry and windy conditions can combine to create the perfect environment for flames to spread across the landscape.

But sometimes the relationship flips: fires can generate their own weather systems, which can then dramatically alter the spread and intensity of the blaze.

One of the most striking examples of this phenomenon is the formation of pyrocumulonimbus clouds — towering storm clouds born from fire.

How can a fire make winds and clouds?

Large bushfires release enormous amounts of energy – sometimes comparable to that emitted from a nuclear bomb. This heats the air in the vicinity of the fire, causing it to rise rapidly in a powerful, buoyant, fire-driven updraft.

Surrounding air rushes in at ground level to replace the rising hot air, feeding the fire with oxygen like a bellows and sometimes accelerating its spread. In extreme cases, the fire and its induced winds can become a self-sustaining system, feeding and growing from the weather it creates.

If the plume rises high enough it can cool to a temperature where the water vapour in the plume will begin to condense into clouds. This is essentially the same process that leads to the formation of ordinary cumulus clouds, except it occurs within a fire’s plume and is called pyrocumulus.

The classic types of cloud. Pyrocumulus and pyrocumulonimbus are much like their ordinary namesakes, but generated by fire. Valentin de Bruyn/Wikimedia, CC BY-NC-ND

Fire-generated thunderstorms

If the fire is large and intense enough, the plume can keep rising. As the cloud rises above altitudes of around 3–5 kilometres, temperatures can drop well below freezing. Water droplets freeze into ice crystals, releasing another burst of latent heat that further energises the rising plume.

The rapidly rising plume now contains ice and supercooled water — a mixture that is key to thunderstorm-like processes. It is through this process that a fire-generated thunderstorm is born, a pyrocumulonimbus cloud.

Pyrocumulonimbus clouds can reach altitudes of 10–15 kilometres, penetrating the stratosphere.

A pyrocumulus grows over the Mount Lawson fire. Satchandcogallery/Facebook

Inside them, strong vertical motions generate turbulence, with ice and water droplets colliding and causing the separation of electrical charges. This can result in lightning, often striking far from the original fire front and in some cases igniting new fires.

These clouds can rise so high that they leave a clear signature visible by satellite, including a long shadow cast over the rest of the cloud and smoke. The first pyrocumulonimbus for this summer may have happened yesterday near the border of NSW and Victoria.

Lightning was detected nearby but this was among lightning occurring in many places across the Southeast states, so it may have just been pyrocumulus clouds, which can still present a significant threat. For example, the deadly 2019 Jingellic fire, which produced tornadic winds, developed a towering pyrocumulus but not a pyrocumulonimbus.

The strong updrafts created by pyrocumulonimbus can cause gusty conditions accelerating fire spread and making it less predictable. The storm can produce a strong updraft bringing fresh air in underneath to the fire, while flinging burning embers over 40km potentially creating new fires. At the same time, strong downdrafts created by the storm can flatten trees and create dangerous conditions for firefighters.

When does this happen?

Not every bushfire spawns its own weather. Pyrocumulonimbus formation requires a delicate balance between the size and intensity of the fire and the stability of the atmosphere.

Firstly, the fire must be large and intense enough to release massive amounts of heat. Secondly, the surrounding atmosphere needs to be suitably conducive to vertical motion. Both of these together allow for the plume to rise.

Smoke plumes from bushfires in Victoria, January 2025. NASA

Third, moisture in the mid-levels of the atmosphere can enhance the chances of pyrocumulonimbus formation. Moist mid-level air can get caught up in the rising plume and then add to latent heat release when it condenses and freezes, which keeps the plume rising.

The future of fire and thunder

Fire-generated thunderstorms were practically unheard of a few decades ago, but they appear to be becoming more common.

One notable example is the unprecedented number that occurred during the Black Summer of 2019–2020. Other outbreaks include around Melbourne in the Black Saturday fires of 2009 and the Canberra fires in 2003.

In all of those cases, the thunderstorms were so intense they injected smoke into stratosphere, where it circled the Earth and affected global climate patterns. Other examples of extreme weather they can cause include fire-generated tornadoes, as well as black hail in the Canberra fires.

Human-caused climate change has already caused more dangerous weather conditions for bushfires for many regions of Australia, including more dangerous conditions for fire-generated thunderstorms.

Observations show more dangerous conditions are now occurring during summer and also with an earlier start to the fire season, particularly in parts of southern and eastern Australia. These trends are very likely to increase into the future, with climate models showing more dangerous weather conditions for bushfires and fire-generated thunderstorms due to increasing greenhouse gas emissions.

Why understanding this matters

Understanding how bushfires can create their own weather is crucial for forecasting and emergency response. Traditional fire behaviour models often assume that weather drives fire, but when fires start driving weather, those models can fail.

Incorporating prediction of fire-generated clouds into fire management systems helps authorities anticipate sudden changes in fire intensity and spread. Targeted research incorporating satellite monitoring and advanced atmospheric modelling is now being used to better understand and detect conditions favourable for pyrocumulonimbus formation.

This knowledge allows for better warnings, resource allocation, and strategies to protect lives and property.

Bushfires are no longer just a local hazard — they can become atmospheric engines with global reach.

Jason Sharples, Professor of Bushfire Dynamics, School of Science, UNSW Canberra, UNSW Sydney; Andrew Dowdy, Principal Research Scientist in Extreme Weather, The University of Melbourne; Luke Burgess, PhD Candidate, Weather and Fire Extremes, The University of Melbourne, and Todd Lane, Professor, School of Geography, Earth and Atmospheric Sciences; ARC Centre of Excellence for the Weather of the 21st Century, The University of Melbourne

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

Sentinel Owl - Monthly data for December 2025

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Total pageviews (all time): 674,592

December 2025 views: 37,317

Users/Countries accessing the blog:

• Singapore: 15.8k
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• Brazil: 2.56k
• India: 1.08k
• Hong Kong: 664
• China: 465
• UK: 410
• Argentina: 376
• Mexico: 324
• Germany: 253
• Indonesia: 236
• Vietnam: 168
• Malaysia: 159
• Netherlands: 147
• Philippines: 125
• Ecuador: 128

Opinion - International Relations - Drones used in the Russia Ukraine War

The Russian - Ukraine war can be best described as a 'drone war' given the advances in technology and tactics that have accured. The guide below provides insight into the variety of drones in use on the battlefield and the advances that have added this lethal new weapon into arsenals.

A visual guide to 14 of the drones wreaking havoc in Ukraine, Russia and beyond

Matt Garrow, The Conversation and Michael Lucy, The Conversation

In the past five years, uncrewed aerial vehicles (drones) have become indispensable in modern warfare. The Russia–Ukraine war has accelerated their ascent: on any given day, there may be hundreds or even thousands of drones operating across the frontlines and behind them.

Cheap, mass-produced consumer technology is the foundation for this growth. Militaries are adapting commercial designs to produce a diverse array of deadly tools.

FPV drones

In sheer numbers, first person view (FPV) drones now dominate the war. Pilots fly them by remote control, sitting in a nearby position and wearing virtual reality goggles to see through the drone’s camera.

FPV drones are very fast, highly manoeuvrable, and often attack by crashing into moving targets and exploding. They are used to strike armoured vehicles, to intercept helicopters and hostile drones, drop anti-personnel mines, and to land near roads and wait to ambush enemy vehicles.

Russia’s main FPV drone is the Molniya-2. Made from plywood, each one can be assembled for less than a thousand dollars using mostly commercial parts, then armed with repurposed mortar or artillery shells.

Russia plans to make two million FPV drones this year.

To avoid radio jamming, Russia has begun controlling these drones via fibre optic cables up to 40 kilometres long. The battlefield is now littered with tens of thousands of very thin fibre optic cables.

FPV drones are also beginning to incorporate artificial intelligence (AI) – at first to assist pilots, and later for greater autonomy.

The Australian Defence Force (ADF) has so far only engaged with FPV drones by racing commercial devices in multinational competitions.

Multi-copter drones

Multicopters are more general-purpose and easier to operate than FPV drones. They can be used for battlefield reconnaissance, intercepting hostile drones, electronic warfare, GPS jamming, communications relay, delivering packages and dropping small mines or bombs. Many are commercial drones modified with different kits for different missions.

Russia commonly uses small hobbyist quadcopters such as the Chinese-made DJI Mavic 3, the DJI Matrice and the Autel EVO II.

There are also larger purpose-built machines, such as the MiS-150 quadcopter and MiS-35 hexacopter, which can carry payloads up to 15 kilograms. The in-development Buran hexacopter can carry a whopping 80kg.

The ADF operates the R70 Sky Ranger quadcopter for airbase surveillance and defence tasks.

Aircraft-style drones

Winged drones come in two broad groups: one-way (kamikaze or loitering) and reusable.

One‑way drones are used for long‑range strikes against cities, transport and infrastructure. Russia mainly uses the Geran series, which it manufactures in a giant factory 1,000km east of Moscow from designs based on Iran’s Shahed drones.

The medium-sized Geran is most common, used for long-range strikes against Ukrainian cities, transport networks, and civilian and military infrastructure.

By late June 2025, Russia had fired some 29,000 Gerans, and it can now make 2,700 more each month. Simplified versions with no warhead are also used as decoys to distract air defences – not only in Ukraine, but also in Poland and Romania.

The main reusable drones are the Orlan-10 and the ZALA 421. These provide battlespace surveillance and help coordinate artillery and FPV drone strikes on Ukrainian targets.

Orlan-10s are now being also used as motherships carrying and launching smaller FPV drones.

Another reusable drone is the ZALA Lancet, used for both reconnaissance and strike missions. It is a so-called “loitering munition”: it can be launched, stay in the air for some time, identify targets with an onboard camera, and then attack if its human operator commands. More sophisticated than FPV drones, these are also far more expensive.

The ADF operates several reconnaissance drones similar to the Orlan-10: the Shadow Tactical, Wasp AE and Puma AE.

The ADF has also recently purchased some loitering munitions: the Switchblade 300 and OWL.

The ADF also operates the very large Triton maritime surveillance drone, which has no Russian equivalent, and is developing the Ghost Bat, a high-speed drone able to assist fast jet fighter and strike aircraft.

Counter-drones

Counter-drone technology is in high demand. However, drones are small, fast and numerous, which makes it inherently difficult to defend against them in a comprehensive way.

Counter-drone systems include combinations of warning sensors, backpack and vehicle-mounted electronic jammers, gun systems, surface-to-air missiles, laser devices and electromagnetic pulse systems.

FPV and multicopter drones are too small for fighter aircraft to counter them. However, larger aircraft-like drones are more vulnerable. New air-launched rocket systems now allow fighters to shoot down a dozen Gerans during each sortie.

As drones become even more widespread and diverse, the balance between cheap mass-produced attack platforms and effective, adaptable defences will shape the conflicts of the future.

Image credits

Molniya: Militaer Aktuell; Fibre optic drone: АрміяІнформ/Wikimedia; MiS-150: Lamp of Knowledge/YouTube; MiS-35: United24 Media; R70-skyranger: ELP; Geran-2: Scott Peterson/Getty Images; Orlan-10: Mike1979 Russia/Wikimedia; Zala 421: Airforce Technology/JSC Concern; Zala lancet 3: Vitaly V Kuzmin; Puma-3-AE: Naval Technology/Business Wire; Wasp-AE: Sgt. Janine Fabre, Australian Defence. Infographics: Matt Garrow/The Conversation.

Matt Garrow, Editorial Web Developer, The Conversation and Michael Lucy, Science Editor, The Conversation

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

Climate Change - the thinning of clouds above and the impact

 

Clouds are vital to life – but many are becoming wispy ghosts. Here’s how to see the changes above us

Thomas Koukas/Unsplash, CC BY-NC-ND 

               

As a scholar researching clouds, I have spent much of my time trying to understand the economy of the sky. Not the weather reports showing scudding rainclouds, but the deeper logic of cloud movements, their distributions and densities and the way they intervene in light, regulate temperatures and choreograph heat flows across our restless planet.

Recently, I have been noticing something strange: skies that feel hollowed out, clouds that look like they have lost their conviction. I think of them as ghost clouds. Not quite absent, but not fully there. These wispy formations drift unmoored from the systems that once gave them coherence. Too thin to reflect sunlight, too fragmented to produce rain, too sluggish to stir up wind, they give the illusion of a cloud without its function.

We think of clouds as insubstantial. But they matter far beyond their weight or tangibility. In dry Western Australia where I live, rain-bringing clouds are eagerly anticipated. But the winter storms which bring most rain to the south-west are being pushed south, depositing vital fresh water into the oceans. More and more days pass under a hard, endless blue – beautiful, but also brutal in its vacancy.

Worldwide, cloud patterns are now changing in concerning ways. Scientists have found the expanse of Earth’s highly reflective clouds is steadily shrinking. With less heat reflected, the Earth is now trapping more heat than expected.

A quiet crisis above

When there are fewer and fewer clouds, it doesn’t make headlines as floods or fires do. Their absence is quiet, cumulative and very worrying.

To be clear, clouds aren’t going to disappear. They may increase in some areas. But the belts of shiny white clouds we need most are declining between 1.5 and 3% per decade.

These clouds are the best at reflecting sunlight back to space, especially in the sunniest parts of the world close to the equator. By contrast, broken grey clouds reflect less heat, while less light hits polar regions, giving polar clouds less to reflect.

Clouds are often thought of as an ambient backdrop to climate action. But we’re now learning this is a fundamental oversight. Clouds aren’t décor – they’re dynamic, distributed and deeply consequential infrastructure able to cool the planet and shape the rainfall patterns seeding life below. These masses of tiny water droplets or ice crystals represent climate protection accessible to all, regardless of nation, wealth or politics.

On average, clouds cover two-thirds of the Earth’s surface, clustering over the oceans. Of all solar radiation reflected back to space, clouds are responsible for about 70%.

Clouds mediate extremes, soften sunlight, ferry moisture and form invisible feedback loops sustaining a stable climate.

Earth’s expanse of white, reflective clouds is shrinking decade after decade. Bernd Dittrich/Unsplash, CC BY-NC-ND

When loss is invisible

If clouds become rarer or leave, it’s not just a loss to the climate system. It’s a loss to how we perceive the world.

When glaciers melt, species die out or coral reefs bleach and die, traces are often left of what was there. But if cloud cover diminishes, it leaves only an emptiness that’s hard to name and harder still to grieve. We have had to learn how to grieve other environmental losses. But we do not yet have a way to mourn the way skies used to be.

And yet we must. To confront loss on this scale, we must allow ourselves to mourn – not out of despair, but out of clarity. Grieving the atmosphere as it used to be is not weakness. It is planetary attention, a necessary pause that opens space for care and creative reimagination of how we live with – and within – the sky.

Seen from space, Earth is a planet swathed in cloud. NASA, CC BY-NC-ND

Reading the clouds

For generations, Australia’s First Nations have read the clouds and sky, interpreting their forms to guide seasonal activities. The Emu in the Sky (Gugurmin in Wiradjuri) can be seen in the Milky Way’s dark dust. When the emu figure is high in the night sky, it’s the right time to gather emu eggs.

The skies are changing faster than our systems of understanding can keep up.

One solution is to reframe how we perceive weather phenomena such as clouds. As researchers in Japan have observed, weather is a type of public good – a “weather commons”. If we see clouds not as leftovers from an unchanging past, but as invitations to imagine new futures for our planet, we might begin to learn how to live more wisely and attentively with the sky.

This might mean teaching people how to read the clouds again – to notice their presence, their changes, their disappearances. We can learn to distinguish between clouds which cool and those which drift, decorative but functionally inert. Our natural affinity to clouds makes them ideal for engaging citizens.

To read clouds is to understand where they formed, what they carry and whether they might return tomorrow. From the ground, we can see whether clouds have begun a slow retreat from the places that need them most.

Learning to read the clouds can help us glimpse the changes above. Valentin de Bruyn/Wikimedia, CC BY-NC-ND

Weather doesn’t just happen

For millennia, humans have treated weather as something beyond our control, something that happens to us. But our effects on Earth have ballooned to the point that we are now helping shape the weather, whether by removing forests which can produce much of their own rain or by funnelling billions of tonnes of fossil carbon into the atmosphere. What we do below shapes what happens above.

We are living through a very brief window in which every change will have very long term consequences. If emissions continue apace, the extra heating will last millennia.

I propose cloud literacy not as solution, but as a way to urgently draw our attention to the very real change happening around us.

We must move from reaction to atmospheric co-design – not as technical fix, but as a civic, collective and imaginative responsibility.

Professor Christian Jakob provided feedback and contributed to this article, while Dr Jo Pollitt and Professor Helena Grehan offered comments and edits.

Rumen Rachev, PhD Candidate, Edith Cowan University

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.