What does it take to move emerging climate solutions beyond the lab? How do you build trust around new approaches? What can you realistically measure? And how do we share what we’re learning so others don’t have to start from scratch?
Those are some of the questions Dr. Mallory Ringham has been working to answer. As an observational chemical oceanographer at Ebb Carbon, Inc., she helped lead Project Macoma in Washington state, one of the first sustained, permitted field pilots for marine carbon dioxide removal. Through the project, she has explored not only the science of marine carbon dioxide removal, but also the relationships and collaborations needed to carry out the work responsibly.
We spoke with Mallory about what Project Macoma has revealed, how community engagement shaped the project from the start, and the value of sharing lessons across sectors.
What is marine carbon dioxide removal, and how do you explain your work to someone who’s new to it?
It depends on who I’m talking to and why they’re asking. Often, it’s someone kayaking past our field site wondering what we’re doing.
The broader message is that we know we need to reduce carbon emissions to address climate change, but there’s also a huge legacy pool of carbon that’s already in the atmosphere. We need ways to safely clean up some of that carbon, and the ocean is an attractive place to look because it already stores so much of it.
Our approach is to remove acid from seawater to create conditions that allow for more carbon storage in the ocean.
The challenge is that concepts like alkalinity are not easy to explain. That’s one reason I joined the COMPASS cohort: to figure out how to talk about this work without losing people.
You worked on one of the first field pilots for marine carbon dioxide removal: Project Macoma. What made it such an important milestone?
There’s dozens of different methods of marine carbon removal that could be promising, but only a handful of field trials have actually moved out into the ocean. Project Macoma was one of the first sustained, permitted field pilots designed to test not only the science of alkalinity enhancement and carbon removal and storage, but also what we need for that technology to be viable at scale.
We built a standalone research facility, worked through permitting and community engagement steps, and operated the project for about six months. That allowed us to think about: How do we measure what’s happening? How do we operate safely? What does it actually take to run a project like this?
The project demonstrated that we have the tools to do this type of work in the ocean. That this work can be permitted, conducted safely, and carried out transparently. That is an important step to keep this work moving forward.
What are some lessons you learned from running the project?
One thing is that it’s really difficult to measure changes in ocean chemistry — impossibly difficult. We expected that from our engineering analyses and models, but I don’t think that most people, including scientific collaborators and regulators, really appreciated what that would look like in practice. You can have fire hoses moving alkalinity into the ocean for hours across multiple tides and still only be able to measure the shifts in ocean chemistry a few feet from the project site.
On one hand, that’s actually really promising, because it suggests we can remove carbon without causing biologically complex changes. On the other hand, it’s hard to study something you can’t easily observe. It makes it hard to prove the value of what you’re doing.
But if you’re not doing this work in the field, you don’t know what sensors work, what breaks, or what you need to logistically make a project happen. That’s why field pilots matter.
Early pilots also help shine a light on the things that are not feasible to measure. At our site, for example, we’re working in an industrial harbor with heavy metals, sawdust, and other pollutants already present. You’re not always going to be able to easily disentangle sources of positive or negative impacts. Instead, these pilots allow us to focus on what we can measure and what to focus on.
How did community engagement shape the project?
When we first came into this field site — well before we ever even applied for a permit — we talked with local Tribes, recreational and commercial fishers, and Washington State Fish and Wildlife staff to understand what mattered most to the community.
The answer was overwhelmingly salmon.
That shaped the research we designed. We developed a lab study with a local Tribe to try to understand how salmon might be impacted if they were to swim through our field site. They donated juvenile salmon for the study, which is a big deal. We then expanded the lab tests to other salmon species and shellfish, and we established a whale watch program at the site. Those efforts added a little bit of comfort to allow people to think about the next steps.
But the species of interest in Washington are intensely different from other locations. Every location has different priorities. That means we have to invest in community engagement before you ever put anything in the water because it shapes what questions you ask and what success looks like.
You’ve talked about the importance of sharing lessons across the field. Where do you see the biggest communication gaps today?
I still meet marine carbon removal researchers who’ve been working in this field for years and are surprised to learn that we have a field permit and are working in the ocean. We’ve had that permit since October 2024.
Our team has spent a lot of time telling people about what we’ve been doing, what our permit allows, and what we’ve learned. I literally carry flash drives with me when I travel to meetings with other scientists and hand them out. The bigger challenge is that most researchers don’t have the time or a central place to dig into all of that data.
In general, I think spaces for collaboration between industry and academia are missing. Everyone knows the projects in their own network, but not necessarily what’s happening across the field. We don’t have an overarching framework that allows people from different sectors to regularly exchange information, understand where their work fits, and build on what others have already learned.
The COMPASS cohort has been an opportunity to bridge that gap. It’s created a space for people from industry, academia, and other sectors to develop shared language, compare experiences, and talk about what’s worked. One project in the cohort focuses on how we talk about environmental impacts, and I’ve been contributing case studies from field testing because those practical examples are often missing from the conversation.
What’s one thing you wish more people understood about mCDR?
I think it’s really important for people to realize that marine carbon dioxide removal is not a standalone research field. It fits into renewable resource development, shoreline protection, coastal sustainability, and more.
There’s also a misconception that marine carbon removal will operate in pristine environments. In reality, technologies typically develop better when there’s something that’s gone first. One thing we’ve learned is that projects succeed where there’s already expertise, infrastructure, and community relationships. That’s one reason Washington was such an important place to begin this work.
New climate solutions are built on existing knowledge and partnerships. Recognizing and strengthening those connections is essential for informing how we move forward.
Where can people learn more about your work?
Project Macoma’s scientific results, biological observations, and environmental data is publicly available through NOAA NCEI and Washington State permit filings. Finally, there’s a lot of science still to be done at this site. We welcome your input at https://projectmacoma.org/, hosted by the Carbon to Sea Initiative, a philanthropic initiative supporting open scientific research on ocean-based carbon dioxide removal.
