The Crash Course - Chris Martenson [76]
The reality is that what you find deep underground is pretty much the same thing you find when you dig a hole near the surface of the ground: solid material. No caverns, lakes, or pools; just solid earth.
So how do we find water and oil under the surface? Extractable liquids are only found in porous rocks, like sandstone, or fractured rocks that permit the oil or water to flow through extremely tiny crevices, fissures, and pores in between and around the granular structure of the rock. If you were to hold in your hand a chunk of rock from an oil-bearing formation, you’d perceive it to be a greasy but quite solid piece of rock. Therefore, it’s more accurate to think of an oil field like a frozen drink, not an underground juice box, where the oil is the tasty stuff and the rock is the crushed ice. We’ll call this the “frozen margarita” model (see Figure 16.1).
Figure 16.1 Juice-Box vs. Frozen Margarita Model
One of these more accurately represents an oil field. (Hint: It’s the one on the right.)
Sources: Margarita image copyright Wacpan; juice-box image copyright Neiromobile.
Image: Molly McLeod
When an oil field is tapped, we find that the amount of oil that comes out of it over time follows a tightly prescribed pattern that typically ends up resembling a bell curve. At first, when the frozen margarita is discovered upon the insertion of just one straw (the exploratory straw, as it were), the rate at which the beverage can be extracted is limited by having only one thin tube through which the drink can flow. As more and more straws are stuck into the delicious slush, more and more drink flows out of the reservoir at a higher and higher rate. But eventually the dreaded slurping sound begins, and then, no matter how many new straws are inserted and no matter how hard those straws are sucked, the amount of margarita coming out of the glass declines until it’s all gone and we’re left with only ice. That’s pretty much exactly how an oil field works.
So far, every single mature oil field has more or less exhibited the same basic extraction profile as the one caricatured in Figure 16.2. The amount of oil extracted over time grows higher and higher until it hits a peak, and then it progressively shrinks. Just like with a frozen margarita, once the oil is gone, it’s gone, and no amount of late-night wishing or desperate attempts at slurping will cause that circumstance to change. And what is true for one oil field is equally true when we measure across many oil fields and sum the result. Because individual fields peak, so do collections of fields.
Figure 16.2 Basic Extraction Profile
With each new straw, up to the first four, the rate of liquid extraction increases. After a time, the flow rate begins to decline and the insertion of straws #5 through #8 does not increase the flow rate.
Image: Molly McLeod
Peak Oil, then, isn’t a theory, as some have tried to portray it; it’s an extremely well-characterized physical phenomenon. We have many decades of data and experience to draw upon when making that claim. This isn’t some idle theory that we’re waiting to confirm through additional observation. We know that literally thousands of individual oil finds have dwindled, because we’ve recorded every barrel coming from them over time; entire oil fields comprised of many smaller finds have depleted in front of our watchful eyes, and entire nations have undergone this process of peaking. We can theorize about how much oil remains to be discovered and produced, but the process by which oil fields become depleted is not up for debate. Peak Oil is not a theory; it’s an observed fact.
It’s Not “Running Out”
Far too often, Peak Oil is inaccurately described as “running out of oil,” as if we’ll produce more and more, and then, suddenly, we’ll just run out. This is incorrect. As described above Peak Oil involves producing slightly more and more until the peak, and then producing slightly less and less. In fact, given the difficulty in extracting the second half (which has to be carefully pumped