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    Designing across cultural and geographic divides

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    In addition to the typical rigors of MIT classes, Terrascope Subject 2.00C/1.016/EC.746 (Design for Complex Environmental Issues) poses some unusual hurdles for students to navigate: collaborating across time zones, bridging different cultural and institutional experiences, and trying to do hands-on work over Zoom. That’s because the class includes students from not only MIT, but also Diné College in Tsaile, Arizona, within the Navajo Nation, and the University of Puerto Rico-Ponce (UPRP).Despite being thousands of miles apart, students work in teams to tackle a real-world problem for a client, based on the Terrascope theme for the year. “Understanding how to collaborate over long distances with people who are not like themselves will be an important item in many of these students’ toolbelts going forward, in some cases just as much as — or more than — any particular design technique,” says Ari Epstein, Terrascope associate director and senior lecturer. Over the past several years, Epstein has taught the class along with Joel Grimm of MIT Beaver Works and Libby Hsu of MIT D-Lab, as well instructors from the two collaborating institutions. Undergraduate teaching fellows from all three schools are also key members of the instructional staff.Since the partnership began three years ago (initially with Diné College, with the addition of UPRP two years ago), the class themes have included food security and sustainable agriculture in Navajo Nation; access to reliable electrical power in Puerto Rico; and this year, increasing museum visitors’ engagement with artworks depicting mining and landscape alteration in Nevada.Each team — which includes students from all three colleges — meets with clients online early in the term to understand their needs; then, through an iterative process, teams work on designing prototypes. During MIT’s spring break, teams travel to meet with the clients onsite to get feedback and continue to refine their prototypes. At the end of the term, students present their final products to the clients, an expert panel, and their communities at a hybrid showcase event held simultaneously on all three campuses.Free-range design engineering“I really loved the class,” says Graciela Leon, a second-year mechanical engineering major who took the subject in 2024. “It was not at all what I was expecting,” she adds. While the learning objectives on the syllabus are fairly traditional — using an iterative engineering design process, developing teamwork skills, and deepening communication skills, to name a few — the approach is not. “Terrascope is just kind of like throwing you into a real-world problem … it feels a lot more like you are being trusted with this actual challenge,” Leon says.The 2024 challenge was to find a way to help the clients, Puerto Rican senior citizens, turn on gasoline-powered generators when the electrical power grid fails; some of them struggle with the pull cords necessary to start the generators. The students were tasked with designing solutions to make starting the generators easier.Terrascope instructors teach fundamental skills such as iterative design spirals and scrum workflow frameworks, but they also give students ample freedom to follow their ideas. Leon admits she was a bit frustrated at first, because she wasn’t sure what she was supposed to be doing. “I wanted to be building things and thought, ‘Wow, I have to do all these other things, I have to write some kind of client profile and understand my client’s needs.’ I was just like, ‘Hand me a drill! I want to design something!’”When he took the class last year, Uziel Rodriguez-Andujar was also thrown off initially by the independence teams had. Now a second-year UPRP student in mechanical engineering, he’s accustomed to lecture-based classes. “What I found so interesting is the way [they] teach the class, which is, ‘You make your own project, and we need you to find a solution to this. How it will look, and when you have it — that’s up to you,’” he says.Clearing hurdlesTeaching the course on three different campuses introduces a number of challenges for students and instructors to overcome — among them, operating in three different time zones, overcoming language barriers, navigating different cultural and institutional norms, communicating effectively, and designing and building prototypes over Zoom.“The culture span is huge,” explains Epstein. “There are different ways of speaking, different ways of listening, and each organization has different resources.”First-year MIT student EJ Rodriguez found that one of the biggest obstacles was trying to convey ideas to teammates clearly. He took the class this year, when the theme revolved around the environmental impacts of lithium mining. The client, the Nevada Museum of Art, wanted to find ways to engage visitors with its artwork collection related to mining-related landscape changes.Rodriguez and his team designed a pendulum with a light affixed to it that illuminates a painting by a Native American artist. When the pendulum swings, it changes how the visitor experiences the artwork. The team built parts for the pendulum on different campuses, and they reached a point where they realized their pieces were incompatible. “We had different visions of what we wanted for the project, and different vocabulary we were using to describe our ideas. Sometimes there would be a misunderstanding … It required a lot of honesty from each campus to be like, ‘OK, I thought we were doing exactly this,’ and obviously in a really respectful way.”It’s not uncommon for students at Diné College and UPRP to experience an initial hurdle that their MIT peers do not. Epstein notes, “There’s a tendency for some folks outside MIT to see MIT students as these brilliant people that they don’t belong in the same room with.” But the other students soon realize not only that they can hold their own intellectually, but also that their backgrounds and experiences are incredibly valuable. “Their life experiences actually put them way ahead of many MIT students in some ways, when you think about design and fabrication, like repairing farm equipment or rebuilding transmissions,” he adds.That’s how Cauy Bia felt when he took the class in 2024. Currently a first-year graduate student in biology at Diné College, Bia questioned whether he’d be on par with the MIT students. “I’ve grown up on a farm, and we do a lot of building, a lot of calculations, a lot of hands-on stuff. But going into this, I was sweating it so hard [wondering], ‘Am I smart enough to work with these students?’ And then, at the end of the day, that was never an issue,” he says.The value of reflectionEvery two weeks, Terrascope students write personal reflections about their experiences in the class, which helps them appreciate their academic and personal development. “I really felt that I had undergone a process that made me grow as an engineer,” says Leon. “I understood the importance of people and engineering more, including teamwork, working with clients, and de-centering the project away from what I wanted to build and design.”When Bia began the semester, he says, he was more of a “make-or-break-type person” and tended to see things in black and white. “But working with all three campuses, it kind of opened up my thought process so I can assess more ideas, more voices and opinions. And I can get broader perspectives and get bigger ideas from that point,” he says. It was also a powerful experience culturally for him, particularly “drawing parallels between Navajo history, Navajo culture, and seeing the similarities between that and Puerto Rican culture, seeing how close we are as two nations.”Rodriguez-Andujar gained an appreciation for the “constant struggle between simplicity and complexity” in engineering. “You have all these engineers trying to over-engineer everything,” he says. “And after you get your client feedback [halfway through the semester], it turns out, ‘Oh, that doesn’t work for me. I’m sorry — you have to scale it down like a hundred times and make it a lot simpler.’”For instructors, the students’ reflections are invaluable as they strive to make improvements every year. In many ways, you might say the class is an iterative design spiral, too. “The past three years have themselves been prototypes,” Epstein says, “and all of the instructional staff are looking forward to continuing these exciting partnerships.” More

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      MIT D-Lab students design global energy solutions through collaboration

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      This semester, MIT D-Lab students built prototype solutions to help farmers in Afghanistan, people living in informal settlements in Argentina, and rural poultry farmers in Cameroon. The projects span continents and collectively stand to improve thousands of lives — and they all trace back to two longstanding MIT D-Lab classes.For nearly two decades, 2.651 / EC.711 (Introduction to Energy in Global Development) and 2.652 / EC.712 (Applications of Energy in Global Development) have paired students with international organizations and communities to learn D-Lab’s participatory approach to design and study energy technologies in low-resource environments. Hundreds of students from across MIT have taken the courses, which feature visits from partners and trips to the communities after the semester. They often discover a passion for helping people in low-resource settings that lasts a lifetime.“Through the trips, students often gain an appreciation for what they have at home, and they can’t forget about what they see,” says D-Lab instructor Josh Maldonado ’23, who took both courses as a student. “For me, it changed my entire career. Students maintain relationships with the people they work with. They stay on the group chats with community members and meet up with them when they travel. They come back and want to mentor for the class. You can just see it has a lasting effect.”The introductory course takes place each spring and is followed by summer trips for students. The applications class, which is more focused on specific projects, is held in the fall and followed by student travel over winter break.“MIT has always advocated for going out and impacting the world,” Maldonado says. “The fact that we can use what we learn here in such a meaningful way while still a student is awesome. It gets back to MIT’s motto, ‘mens et manus’ (‘mind and hand’).”Curriculum for impactIntroduction to Energy in Global Development has been taught since around 2008, with past projects focusing on mitigating the effects of aquatic weeds for fisherman in Ghana, making charcoal for cookstoves in Uganda, and creating brick evaporative coolers to extend the shelf life of fruits and vegetables in Mali.The class follows MIT D-Lab’s participatory design philosophy in which students design solutions in close collaboration with local communities. Along the way, students learn about different energy technologies and how they might be implemented cheaply in rural communities that lack basic infrastructure.“In product design, the idea is to get out and meet your customer where they are,” Maldonado explains. “The problem is our partners are often in remote, low-resource regions of the world. We put a big emphasis on designing with the local communities and increasing their creative capacity building to show them they can build solutions themselves.”Students from across MIT, including graduates and undergraduates, along with students from Harvard University and Wellesley College, can enroll in both courses. MIT senior Kanokwan Tungkitkancharoen took the introductory class this spring.“There are students from chemistry, computer science, civil engineering, policy, and more,” says Tungkitkancharoen. “I think that convergence models how things get done in real life. The class also taught me how to communicate the same information in different ways to cater to different people. It helped me distill my approach to what is this person trying to learn and how can I convey that information.”Tungkitkancharoen’s team worked with a nonprofit called Weatherizers Without Borders to implement weatherization strategies that enhance housing conditions and environmental resilience for people in the southern Argentinian community of Bariloche.The team built model homes and used heat sensing cameras to show the impact of weatherization strategies to locals and policymakers in the region.“Our partners live in self-built homes, but the region is notorious for being very cold in the winter and very hot in the summer,” Tungkitkancharoen says. “We’re helping our partners retrofit homes so they can withstand the weather better. Before the semester, I was interested in working directly with people impacted by these technologies and the current climate situation. D-Lab helped me work with people on the ground, and I’ve been super grateful to our community partners.”The project to design micro-irrigation systems to support agricultural productivity and water conservation in Afghanistan is in partnership with the Ecology and Conservation Organization of Afghanistan and a team from a local university in Afghanistan.“I love the process of coming into class with a practical question you need to solve and working closely with community partners,” says MIT master’s student Khadija Ghanizada, who has served as a teacher’s assistant for both the introductory and applications courses. “All of these projects will have a huge impact, but being from Afghanistan, I know this will make a difference because it’s a land-locked country, it’s dealing with droughts, and 80 percent of our economy depends on agriculture. We also make sure students are thinking about scalability of their solutions, whether scaling worldwide or just nationally. Every project has its own impact story.”Meeting community partnersNow that the spring semester is over, many students from the introductory class will travel to the regions they studied with instructors and local guides over the summer.“The traveling and implementation are things students always look forward to,” Maldonado says. “Students do a lot of prep work, thinking about the tools they need, the local resources they need, and working with partners to acquire those resources.”Following travel, students write a report on how the trip went, which helps D-Lab refine the course for next semester.“Oftentimes instructors are also doing research in these regions while they teach the class,” Maldonado says. “To be taught by people who were just in the field two weeks before the class started, and to see pictures of what they’re doing, is really powerful.”Students who have taken the class have gone on to careers in international development, nonprofits, and to start companies that grow the impact of their class projects. But the most immediate impact can be seen in the communities that students work with.“These solutions should be able to be built locally, sourced locally, and potentially also lead to the creation of localized markets based around the technology,” Maldonado says. “Almost everything the D-Lab does is open-sourced, so when we go to these communities, we don’t just teach people how to use these solutions, we teach them how to make them. Technology, if implemented correctly by mindful engineers and scientists, can be highly adopted and can grow a community of makers and fabricators and local businesses.” More

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      MIT Climate and Energy Ventures class spins out entrepreneurs — and successful companies

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      In 2014, a team of MIT students in course 15.366 (Climate and Energy Ventures) developed a plan to commercialize MIT research on how to move information between chips with light instead of electricity, reducing energy usage.After completing the class, which challenges students to identify early customers and pitch their business plan to investors, the team went on to win both grand prizes at the MIT Clean Energy Prize. Today the company, Ayar Labs, has raised a total of $370 million from a group including chip leaders AMD, Intel, and NVIDIA, to scale the manufacturing of its optical chip interconnects.Ayar Labs is one of many companies whose roots can be traced back to 15.366. In fact, more than 150 companies have been founded by alumni of the class since its founding in 2007.In the class, student teams select a technology or idea and determine the best path for its commercialization. The semester-long project, which is accompanied by lectures and mentoring, equips students with real-world experience in launching a business.“The goal is to educate entrepreneurs on how to start companies in the climate and energy space,” says Senior Lecturer Tod Hynes, who co-founded the course and has been teaching since 2008. “We do that through hands-on experience. We require students to engage with customers, talk to potential suppliers, partners, investors, and to practice their pitches to learn from that feedback.”The class attracts hundreds of student applications each year. As one of the catalysts for MIT spinoffs, it is also one reason a 2015 report found that MIT alumni-founded companies had generated roughly $1.9 trillion in annual revenues. If MIT were a country, that figure that would make it the 10th largest economy in the world, according to the report.“’Mens et manus’ (‘mind and hand’) is MIT’s motto, and the hands-on experience we try to provide in this class is hard to beat,” Hynes says. “When you actually go through the process of commercialization in the real world, you learn more and you’re in a better spot. That experiential learning approach really aligns with MIT’s approach.”Simulating a startupThe course was started by Bill Aulet, a professor of the practice at the MIT Sloan School of Management and the managing director of the Martin Trust Center for MIT Entrepreneurship. After serving as an advisor the first year and helping Aulet launch the class, Hynes began teaching the class with Aulet in the fall of 2008. The pair also launched the Climate and Energy Prize around the same time, which continues today and recently received over 150 applications from teams from around the world.A core feature of the class is connecting students in different academic fields. Each year, organizers aim to enroll students with backgrounds in science, engineering, business, and policy.“The class is meant to be accessible to anybody at MIT,” Hynes says, noting the course has also since opened to students from Harvard University. “We’re trying to pull across disciplines.”The class quickly grew in popularity around campus. Over the last few years, the course has had about 150 students apply for 50 spots.“I mentioned Climate and Energy Ventures in my application to MIT,” says Chris Johnson, a second-year graduate student in the Leaders for Global Operations (LGO) Program. “Coming into MIT, I was very interested in sustainability, and energy in particular, and also in startups. I had heard great things about the class, and I waited until my last semester to apply.”The course’s organizers select mostly graduate students, whom they prefer to be in the final year of their program so they can more easily continue working on the venture after the class is finished.“Whether or not students stick with the project from the class, it’s a great experience that will serve them in their careers,” says Jennifer Turliuk, the practice leader for climate and energy artificial intelligence at the Martin Trust Center for Entrepreneurship, who helped teach the class this fall.Hynes describes the course as a venture-building simulation. Before it begins, organizers select up to 30 technologies and ideas that are in the right stage for commercialization. Students can also come into the class with ideas or technologies they want to work on.After a few weeks of introductions and lectures, students form into multidisciplinary teams of about five and begin going through each of the 24 steps of building a startup described in Aulet’s book “Disciplined Entrepreneurship,” which includes things like engaging with potential early customers, quantifying a value proposition, and establishing a business model. Everything builds toward a one-hour final presentation that’s designed to simulate a pitch to investors or government officials.“It’s a lot of work, and because it’s a team-based project, your grade is highly dependent on your team,” Hynes says. “You also get graded by your team; that’s about 10 percent of your grade. We try to encourage people to be proactive and supportive teammates.”Students say the process is fast-paced but rewarding.“It’s definitely demanding,” says Sofie Netteberg, a graduate student who is also in the LGO program at MIT. “Depending on where you’re at with your technology, you can be moving very quickly. That’s the stage that I was in, which I found really engaging. We basically just had a lab technology, and it was like, ‘What do we do next?’ You also get a ton of support from the professors.”From the classroom to the worldThis fall’s final presentations took place at the headquarters of the MIT-affiliated venture firm The Engine in front of an audience of professors, investors, members of foundations supporting entrepreneurship, and more.“We got to hear feedback from people who would be the real next step for the technology if the startup gets up and running,” said Johnson, whose team was commercializing a method for storing energy in concrete. “That was really valuable. We know that these are not only people we might see in the next month or the next funding rounds, but they’re also exactly the type of people that are going to give us the questions we should be thinking about. It was clarifying.”Throughout the semester, students treated the project like a real venture they’d be working on well beyond the length of the class.“No one’s really thinking about this class for the grade; it’s about the learning,” says Netteberg, whose team was encouraged to keep working on their electrolyzer technology designed to more efficiently produce green hydrogen. “We’re not stressed about getting an A. If we want to keep working on this, we want real feedback: What do you think we did well? What do we need to keep working on?”Hynes says several investors expressed interest in supporting the businesses coming out of the class. Moving forward, he hopes students embrace the test-bed environment his team has created for them and try bold new things.“People have been very pragmatic over the years, which is good, but also potentially limiting,” Hynes says. “This is also an opportunity to do something that’s a little further out there — something that has really big potential impact if it comes together. This is the time where students get to experiment, so why not try something big?” More

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      in Security

      Coffee fix: MIT students decode the science behind the perfect cup

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      Elaine Jutamulia ’24 took a sip of coffee with a few drops of anise extract. It was her second try.“What do you think?” asked Omar Orozco, standing at a lab table in MIT’s Breakerspace, surrounded by filters, brewing pots, and other coffee paraphernalia.“I think when I first tried it, it was still pretty bitter,” Jutamulia said thoughtfully. “But I think now that it’s steeped for a little bit — it took out some of the bitterness.”Jutamulia and current MIT senior Orozco were part of class 3.000 (Coffee Matters: Using the Breakerspace to Make the Perfect Cup), a new MIT course that debuted in spring 2024. The class combines lectures on chemistry and the science of coffee with hands-on experimentation and group projects. Their project explored how additives such as anise, salt, and chili oil influence coffee extraction — the process of dissolving flavor compounds from ground coffee into water — to improve taste and correct common brewing errors.Alongside tasting, they used an infrared spectrometer to identify the chemical compounds in their coffee samples that contribute to flavor. Does anise make bitter coffee smoother? Could chili oil balance the taste?“Generally speaking, if we could make a recommendation, that’s what we’re trying to find,” Orozco said.A three-unit “discovery class” designed to help first-year students explore majors, 3.000 was widely popular, enrolling more than 50 students. Its success was driven by the beverage at its core and the class’s hands-on approach, which pushes students to ask and answer questions they might not have otherwise.For aeronautics and astronautics majors Gabi McDonald and McKenzie Dinesen, coffee was the draw, but the class encouraged them to experiment and think in new ways. “It’s easy to drop people like us in, who love coffee, and, ‘Oh my gosh, there’s this class where we can go make coffee half the time and try all different kinds of things?’” McDonald says.Percolating knowledgeThe class pairs weekly lectures on topics such as coffee chemistry, the anatomy and composition of a coffee bean, the effects of roasting, and the brewing process with tasting sessions — students sample coffee brewed from different beans, roasts, and grinds. In the MIT Breakerspace, a new space on campus conceived and managed by the Department of Materials Science and Engineering (DMSE), students use equipment such as a digital optical microscope to examine ground coffee particles and a scanning electron microscope, which shoots beams of electrons at samples to reveal cross-sections of beans in stunning detail.Once students learn to operate instruments for guided tasks, they form groups and design their own projects.“The driver for those projects is some question they have about coffee raised by one of the lectures or the tasting sessions, or just something they’ve always wanted to know,” says DMSE Professor Jeffrey Grossman, who designed and teaches the class. “Then they’ll use one or more of these pieces of equipment to shed some light on it.”Grossman traces the origins of the class to his initial vision for the Breakerspace, a laboratory for materials analysis and lounge for MIT undergraduates. Opened in November 2023, the space gives students hands-on experience with materials science and engineering, an interdisciplinary field combining chemistry, physics, and engineering to probe the composition and structure of materials.“The world is made of stuff, and these are the tools to understand that stuff and bring it to life,” says Grossman. So he envisioned a class that would give students an “exploratory, inspiring nudge.”“Then the question wasn’t the pedagogy, it was, ‘What’s the hook?’ In materials science, there are a lot of directions you could go, but if you have one that inspires people because they know it and maybe like it already, then that’s exciting.”Cup of ambitionThat hook, of course, was coffee, the second-most-consumed beverage after water. It captured students’ imagination and motivated them to push boundaries.Orozco brought a fair amount of coffee knowledge to the class. In 2023, he taught in Mexico through the MISTI Global Teaching Labs program, where he toured several coffee farms and acquired a deeper knowledge of the beverage. He learned, for example, that black coffee, contrary to general American opinion, isn’t naturally bitter; bitterness arises from certain compounds that develop during the roasting process.“If you properly brew it with the right beans, it actually tastes good,” says Orozco, a humanities and engineering major. A year later, in 3.000, he expanded his understanding of making a good brew, particularly through the group project with Jutamulia and other students to fix bad coffee.The group prepared a control sample of “perfectly brewed” coffee — based on taste, coffee-to-water ratio, and other standards covered in class — alongside coffee that was under-extracted and over-extracted. Under-extracted coffee, made with water that isn’t hot enough or brewed for too short a time, tastes sharp or sour. Over-extracted coffee, brewed with too much coffee or for too long, tastes bitter.Those coffee samples got additives and were analyzed using Fourier Transform Infrared (FTIR) spectroscopy, measuring how coffee absorbed infrared light to identify flavor-related compounds. Jutamulia examined FTIR readings taken from a sample with lime juice to see how the citric acid influenced its chemical profile.“Can we find any correlation between what we saw and the existing known measurements of citric acid?” asks Jutamulia, who studied computation and cognition at MIT, graduating last May.Another group dove into coffee storage, questioning why conventional wisdom advises against freezing.“We just wondered why that’s the case,” says electrical engineering and computer science major Noah Wiley, a coffee enthusiast with his own espresso machine.The team compared methods like freezing brewed coffee, frozen coffee grounds, and whole beans ground after freezing, evaluating their impact on flavor and chemical composition.“Then we’re going to see which ones taste good,” says Wiley. The team used a class coffee review sheet to record attributes like acidity, bitterness, sweetness, and overall flavor, pairing the results with FTIR analysis to determine how storage affected taste.Wiley acknowledged that “good” is subjective. “Sometimes there’s a group consensus. I think people like fuller coffee, not watery,” he says.Other student projects compared caffeine levels in different coffee types, analyzed the effect of microwaving coffee on its chemical composition and flavor, and investigated the differences between authentic and counterfeit coffee beans.“We gave the students some papers to look at in case they were interested,” says Justin Lavallee, Breakerspace manager and co-teacher of the class. “But mostly we told them to focus on something they wanted to learn more about.”Drip, drip, dripBeyond answering specific questions about coffee, both students and teachers gained deeper insights into the beverage.“Coffee is a complicated material. There are thousands of molecules in the beans, which change as you roast and extract them,” says Grossman. “The number of ways you can engineer this collection of molecules — it’s profound, ranging from where and how the coffee’s grown to how the cherries are then treated to get the beans to how the beans are roasted and ground to the brewing method you use.”Dinesen learned firsthand, discovering, for example, that darker roasts have less caffeine than lighter roasts, puncturing a common misconception. “You can vary coffee so much — just with the roast of the bean, the size of the ground,” she says. “It’s so easily manipulatable, if that’s a word.”In addition to learning about the science and chemistry behind coffee, Dinesen and McDonald gained new brewing techniques, like using a pour-over cone. The pair even incorporated coffee making and testing into their study routine, brewing coffee while tackling problem sets for another class.“I would put my pour-over cone in my backpack with a Ziploc bag full of grounds, and we would go to the Student Center and pull out the cone, a filter, and the coffee grounds,” McDonald says. “And then we would make pour-overs while doing a P-set. We tested different amounts of water, too. It was fun.”Tony Chen, a materials science and engineering major, reflected on the 3.000’s title — “Using the Breakerspace to Make the Perfect Cup” — and whether making a perfect cup is possible. “I don’t think there’s one perfect cup because each person has their own preferences. I don’t think I’ve gotten to mine yet,” he says.Enthusiasm for coffee’s complexity and the discovery process was exactly what Grossman hoped to inspire in his students. “The best part for me was also just seeing them developing their own sense of curiosity,” he says.He recalled a moment early in the class when students, after being given a demo of the optical microscope, saw the surface texture of a magnified coffee bean, the mottled shades of color, and the honeycomb-like pattern of tiny irregular cells.“They’re like, ‘Wait a second. What if we add hot water to the grounds while it’s under the microscope? Would we see the extraction?’ So, they got hot water and some ground coffee beans, and lo and behold, it looked different. They could see the extraction right there,” Grossman says. “It’s like they have an idea that’s inspired by the learning, and they go and try it. I saw that happen many, many times throughout the semester.” More

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      in Energy

      Helping students bring about decarbonization, from benchtop to global energy marketplace

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      MIT students are adept at producing research and innovations at the cutting edge of their fields. But addressing a problem as large as climate change requires understanding the world’s energy landscape, as well as the ways energy technologies evolve over time.Since 2010, the course IDS.521/IDS.065 (Energy Systems for Climate Change Mitigation) has equipped students with the skills they need to evaluate the various energy decarbonization pathways available to the world. The work is designed to help them maximize their impact on the world’s emissions by making better decisions along their respective career paths.“The question guiding my teaching and research is how do we solve big societal challenges with technology, and how can we be more deliberate in developing and supporting technologies to get us there?” says Professor Jessika Trancik, who started the course to help fill a gap in knowledge about the ways technologies evolve and scale over time.Since its inception in 2010, the course has attracted graduate students from across MIT’s five schools. The course has also recently opened to undergraduate students and been adapted to an online course for professionals.Class sessions alternate between lectures and student discussions that lead up to semester-long projects in which groups of students explore specific strategies and technologies for reducing global emissions. This year’s projects span several topics, including how quickly transmission infrastructure is expanding, the relationship between carbon emissions and human development, and how to decarbonize the production of key chemicals.The curriculum is designed to help students identify the most promising ways to mitigate climate change whether they plan to be scientists, engineers, policymakers, investors, urban planners, or just more informed citizens.“We’re coming at this issue from both sides,” explains Trancik, who is part of MIT’s Institute for Data, Systems, and Society. “Engineers are used to designing a technology to work as well as possible here and now, but not always thinking over a longer time horizon about a technology evolving and succeeding in the global marketplace. On the flip side, for students at the macro level, often studies in policy and economics of technological change don’t fully account for the physical and engineering constraints of rates of improvement. But all of that information allows you to make better decisions.”Bridging the gapAs a young researcher working on low-carbon polymers and electrode materials for solar cells, Trancik always wondered how the materials she worked on would scale in the real world. They might achieve promising performance benchmarks in the lab, but would they actually make a difference in mitigating climate change? Later, she began focusing increasingly on developing methods for predicting how technologies might evolve.“I’ve always been interested in both the macro and the micro, or even nano, scales,” Trancik says. “I wanted to know how to bridge these new technologies we’re working on with the big picture of where we want to go.”Trancik’ described her technology-grounded approach to decarbonization in a paper that formed the basis for IDS.065. In the paper, she presented a way to evaluate energy technologies against climate-change mitigation goals while focusing on the technology’s evolution.“That was a departure from previous approaches, which said, given these technologies with fixed characteristics and assumptions about their rates of change, how do I choose the best combination?” Trancik explains. “Instead we asked: Given a goal, how do we develop the best technologies to meet that goal? That inverts the problem in a way that’s useful to engineers developing these technologies, but also to policymakers and investors that want to use the evolution of technologies as a tool for achieving their objectives.”This past semester, the class took place every Tuesday and Thursday in a classroom on the first floor of the Stata Center. Students regularly led discussions where they reflected on the week’s readings and offered their own insights.“Students always share their takeaways and get to ask open questions of the class,” says Megan Herrington, a PhD candidate in the Department of Chemical Engineering. “It helps you understand the readings on a deeper level because people with different backgrounds get to share their perspectives on the same questions and problems. Everybody comes to class with their own lens, and the class is set up to highlight those differences.”The semester begins with an overview of climate science, the origins of emissions reductions goals, and technology’s role in achieving those goals. Students then learn how to evaluate technologies against decarbonization goals.But technologies aren’t static, and neither is the world. Later lessons help students account for the change of technologies over time, identifying the mechanisms for that change and even forecasting rates of change.Students also learn about the role of government policy. This year, Trancik shared her experience traveling to the COP29 United Nations Climate Change Conference.“It’s not just about technology,” Trancik says. “It’s also about the behaviors that we engage in and the choices we make. But technology plays a major role in determining what set of choices we can make.”From the classroom to the worldStudents in the class say it has given them a new perspective on climate change mitigation.“I have really enjoyed getting to see beyond the research people are doing at the benchtop,” says Herrington. “It’s interesting to see how certain materials or technologies that aren’t scalable yet may fit into a larger transformation in energy delivery and consumption. It’s also been interesting to pull back the curtain on energy systems analysis to understand where the metrics we cite in energy-related research originate from, and to anticipate trajectories of emerging technologies.”Onur Talu, a first-year master’s student in the Technology and Policy Program, says the class has made him more hopeful.“I came into this fairly pessimistic about the climate,” says Talu, who has worked for clean technology startups in the past. “This class has taught me different ways to look at the problem of climate change mitigation and developing renewable technologies. It’s also helped put into perspective how much we’ve accomplished so far.”Several student projects from the class over the years have been developed into papers published in peer-reviewed journals. They have also been turned into tools, like carboncounter.com, which plots the emissions and costs of cars and has been featured in The New York Times.Former class students have also launched startups; Joel Jean SM ’13, PhD ’17, for example, started Swift Solar. Others have drawn on the course material to develop impactful careers in government and academia, such as Patrick Brown PhD ’16 at the National Renewable Energy Laboratory and Leah Stokes SM ’15, PhD ’15 at the University of California at Santa Barbara.Overall, students say the course helps them take a more informed approach to applying their skills toward addressing climate change.“It’s not enough to just know how bad climate change could be,” says Yu Tong, a first-year master’s student in civil and environmental engineering. “It’s also important to understand how technology can work to mitigate climate change from both a technological and market perspective. It’s about employing technology to solve these issues rather than just working in a vacuum.” More

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      in Environment

      In a unique research collaboration, students make the case for less e-waste

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      Brought together as part of the Social and Ethical Responsibilities of Computing (SERC) initiative within the MIT Schwarzman College of Computing, a community of students known as SERC Scholars is collaborating to examine the most urgent problems humans face in the digital landscape.Each semester, students from all levels from across MIT are invited to join a different topical working group led by a SERC postdoctoral associate. Each group delves into a specific issue — such as surveillance or data ownership — culminating in a final project presented at the end of the term.Typically, students complete the program with hands-on experience conducting research in a new cross-disciplinary field. However, one group of undergraduate and graduate students recently had the unique opportunity to enhance their resume by becoming published authors of a case study about the environmental and climate justice implications of the electronics hardware life cycle.Although it’s not uncommon for graduate students to co-author case studies, it’s unusual for undergraduates to earn this opportunity — and for their audience to be other undergraduates around the world.“Our team was insanely interdisciplinary,” says Anastasia Dunca, a junior studying computer science and one of the co-authors. “I joined the SERC Scholars Program because I liked the idea of being part of a cohort from across MIT working on a project that utilized all of our skillsets. It also helps [undergraduates] learn the ins and outs of computing ethics research.”Case study co-author Jasmin Liu, an MBA student in the MIT Sloan School of Management, sees the program as a platform to learn about the intersection of technology, society, and ethics: “I met team members spanning computer science, urban planning, to art/culture/technology. I was excited to work with a diverse team because I know complex problems must be approached with many different perspectives. Combining my background in humanities and business with the expertise of others allowed us to be more innovative and comprehensive.”Christopher Rabe, a former SERC postdoc who facilitated the group, says, “I let the students take the lead on identifying the topic and conducting the research.” His goal for the group was to challenge students across disciplines to develop a working definition of climate justice.From mining to e-wasteThe SERC Scholars’ case study, “From Mining to E-waste: The Environmental and Climate Justice Implications of the Electronics Hardware Life Cycle,” was published by the MIT Case Studies in Social and Ethical Responsibilities of Computing.The ongoing case studies series, which releases new issues twice a year on an open-source platform, is enabling undergraduate instructors worldwide to incorporate research-based education materials on computing ethics into their existing class syllabi.This particular case study broke down the electronics life cycle from mining to manufacturing, usage, and disposal. It offered an in-depth look at how this cycle promotes inequity in the Global South. Mining for the average of 60 minerals that power everyday devices lead to illegal deforestation, compromising air quality in the Amazon, and triggering armed conflict in Congo. Manufacturing leads to proven health risks for both formal and informal workers, some of whom are child laborers.Life cycle assessment and circular economy are proposed as mechanisms for analyzing environmental and climate justice issues in the electronics life cycle. Rather than posing solutions, the case study offers readers entry points for further discussion and for assessing their own individual responsibility as producers of e-waste.Crufting and crafting a case studyDunca joined Rabe’s working group, intrigued by the invitation to conduct a rigorous literature review examining issues like data center resource and energy use, manufacturing waste, ethical issues with AI, and climate change. Rabe quickly realized that a common thread among all participants was an interest in understanding and reducing e-waste and its impact on the environment.“I came in with the idea of us co-authoring a case study,” Rabe said. However, the writing-intensive process was initially daunting to those students who were used to conducting applied research. Once Rabe created sub-groups with discrete tasks, the steps for researching, writing, and iterating a case study became more approachable.For Ellie Bultena, an undergraduate student studying linguistics and philosophy and a contributor to the study, that meant conducting field research on the loading dock of MIT’s Stata Center, where students and faculty go “crufting” through piles of clunky printers, broken computers, and used lab equipment discarded by the Institute’s labs, departments, and individual users.Although not a formally sanctioned activity on-campus, “crufting” is the act of gleaning usable parts from these junk piles to be repurposed into new equipment or art. Bultena’s respondents, who opted to be anonymous, said that MIT could do better when it comes to the amount of e-waste generated and suggested that formal strategies could be implemented to encourage community members to repair equipment more easily or recycle more formally.Rabe, now an education program director at the MIT Environmental Solutions Initiative, is hopeful that through the Zero-Carbon Campus Initiative, which commits MIT to eliminating all direct emissions by 2050, MIT will ultimately become a model for other higher education institutions.Although the group lacked the time and resources to travel to communities in the Global South that they profiled in their case study, members leaned into exhaustive secondary research, collecting data on how some countries are irresponsibly dumping e-waste. In contrast, others have developed alternative solutions that can be duplicated elsewhere and scaled.“We source materials, manufacture them, and then throw them away,” Lelia Hampton says. A PhD candidate in electrical engineering and computer science and another co-author, Hampton jumped at the opportunity to serve in a writing role, bringing together the sub-groups research findings. “I’d never written a case study, and it was exciting. Now I want to write 10 more.”The content directly informed Hampton’s dissertation research, which “looks at applying machine learning to climate justice issues such as urban heat islands.” She said that writing a case study that is accessible to general audiences upskilled her for the non-profit organization she’s determined to start. “It’s going to provide communities with free resources and data needed to understand how they are impacted by climate change and begin to advocate against injustice,” Hampton explains.Dunca, Liu, Rabe, Bultena, and Hampton are joined on the case study by fellow authors Mrinalini Singha, a graduate student in the Art, Culture, and Technology program; Sungmoon Lim, a graduate student in urban studies and planning and EECS; Lauren Higgins, an undergraduate majoring in political science; and Madeline Schlegal, a Northeastern University co-op student.Taking the case study to classrooms around the worldAlthough PhD candidates have contributed to previous case studies in the series, this publication is the first to be co-authored with MIT undergraduates. Like any other peer-reviewed journal, before publication, the SERC Scholars’ case study was anonymously reviewed by senior scholars drawn from various fields.The series editor, David Kaiser, also served as one of SERC’s inaugural associate deans and helped shape the program. “The case studies, by design, are short, easy to read, and don’t take up lots of time,” Kaiser explained. “They are gateways for students to explore, and instructors can cover a topic that has likely already been on their mind.” This semester, Kaiser, the Germeshausen Professor of the History of Science and a professor of physics, is teaching STS.004 (Intersections: Science, Technology, and the World), an undergraduate introduction to the field of science, technology, and society. The last month of the semester has been dedicated wholly to SERC case studies, one of which is: “From Mining to E-Waste.”Hampton was visibly moved to hear that the case study is being used at MIT but also by some of the 250,000 visitors to the SERC platform, many of whom are based in the Global South and directly impacted by the issues she and her cohort researched. “Many students are focused on climate, whether through computer science, data science, or mechanical engineering. I hope that this case study educates them on environmental and climate aspects of e-waste and computing.” More

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      in Security

      “Mens et manus” in Guatemala

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      In a new, well-equipped lab at the University del Valle de Guatemala (UVG) in June 2024, members of two Mayan farmers’ cooperatives watched closely as Rodrigo Aragón, professor of mechanical engineering at UVG, demonstrated the operation of an industrial ultrasound machine. Then he invited each of them to test the device.“For us, it is a dream to be able to interact with technology,” said Francisca Elizabeth Saloj Saloj, a member of the Ija´tz women’s collective, a group from Guatemala’s highlands.After a seven-hour bumpy bus ride, the farmers had arrived in Guatemala City with sacks full of rosemary, chamomile, and thyme. Their objective: to explore processes for extracting essential oils from their plants and to identify new products to manufacture with these oils. Currently, farmers sell their herbs in local markets for medicinal or culinary purposes. With new technology, says Aragón, they can add value to their harvest, using herb oils as the basis for perfumes, syrups, and tinctures that would reach broader markets. These goods could provide much-needed income to the farmers’ households.A strategy for transformationThis collaboration is just one part of a five-year, $15-million project funded by the U.S. Agency for International Development (USAID) and managed by MIT’s Department of Mechanical Engineering in collaboration with UVG and the Guatemalan Export Association (AGEXPORT). Launched in 2021 and called ASPIRE — Achieving Sustainable Partnerships for Innovation, Research, and Entrepreneurship — the project aims to collaboratively strengthen UVG, and eventually other universities in Central America, as problem-solving powerhouses that research, design, and build solutions with and for the people most in need.“The vision of ASPIRE is that within a decade, UVG researchers are collaborating with community members on research that generates results that are relevant to addressing local development challenges — results that are picked up and used by policymakers and actors in the private sector,” says MIT Research Scientist Elizabeth Hoffecker, a co-principal investigator of ASPIRE at MIT, and leader of the Institute’s Local Innovation Group.UVG, one of Guatemala’s top universities, has embraced ASPIRE as part of its long-term strategic plan, and is now pursuing wide-ranging changes based on a playbook developed at MIT — including at MIT D-Lab, which deploys participatory design, co-creation, low-cost technologies, and capacity building to meet the complex challenges of poverty — and piloted at UVG. The ASPIRE team is working to extend the reach of its research innovation and entrepreneurship activities to its two regional campuses and to other regional universities. The overall program is informed by MIT’s approach to development of research-driven innovation ecosystems.Although lacking the resources (and PhD programs) of a typical U.S. university, UVG has big ambitions for itself, and for Guatemala.“We want to thrive and lead the country in research and teaching, and to accomplish this, we are creating an innovation and entrepreneurship ecosystem, based on best practices drawn from D-Lab and other MIT groups,” says Mónica Stein, vice-rector for research and outreach at UVG, who holds a doctorate from Stanford University in plant biology. “ASPIRE can really change the way that development work and local research is done so that it has more impact,” says Stein. “And in theory, if you have more impact, then you improve environmental outcomes, health outcomes, educational outcomes, and economic outcomes.”Local innovation and entrepreneurshipShifting gears at a university and launching novel development initiatives are complex challenges, but with training and workshops conducted by D-Lab-trained collaborators and MIT-based ASPIRE staff, UVG faculty, staff, and students are embracing the change. Programs underway should sound familiar to anyone who has set foot recently on the campus of a U.S. research university: hackathons, makerspaces, pitchapaloozas, entrepreneurship competitions, and spinouts. But at UVG, all of these serve a larger purpose: addressing sustainable development goals.ASPIRE principal investigator Daniel Frey, professor of mechanical engineering at MIT, believes some of these programs are already paying off, particularly a UVG venture mentoring service (VMS), modeled after and facilitated by MIT’s own VMS program. “We’d like to see students building companies and improving their livelihoods and those of people from indigenous and marginalized communities,” says Frey.The ASPIRE project intends to enable the lowest-income communities to share more of Guatemala’s wealth, derived mainly from agricultural goods. In collaborating with AGEXPORT, which enables networking with companies across the country, the team zeroed in on creating or enhancing the value chain for several key crops.“Snow peas offer a great target for both research and innovation,” says Adilia Blandón, ASPIRE research project manager and professor of food engineering at UVG. Many farming communities grow snow peas, which they send along to companies for export to the U.S. Unless these peas are perfect in shape and color, Blandón explains, they don’t make it to market. Nearly a third of Guatemala’s crop is left at processing plants, turned into animal feed, or wasted.An ASPIRE snow pea team located farmers from two cooperatives who wanted to solve this problem. At a series of co-creation sessions, these growers and mechanical engineers at UVG developed a prototype for a low-tech cart for collecting snow peas, made from easily acquired local materials, which can navigate the steep and narrow paths on the hills where the plants grow. This method avoids crushing snow peas in a conventional harvest bag. In addition, the snow pea project has engaged women at a technical school to design a harvest apron for women snow pea farmers. “This could be a business opportunity for them,” Blandón says.Blandón vividly recalls her first ASPIRE workshop, focused on participatory design. “It opened my eyes as a researcher in so many ways,” she says. “I learned that instead of taking information from people, I can learn from them and create things with them that they are really excited about.” It completely changed how she approaches research, she says.Working with Mayan communities that produce snow peas, where malnourishment and illness are rampant, Blandón and ASPIRE researchers found that families don’t eat the protein-packed vegetable because they don’t find it palatable — even though so much of it is left over from harvest. Participatory design sessions with a group of mothers yielded an intriguing possibility: grinding snow peas into flour, which would then be incorporated into traditional bean- and corn-based dishes. The recipes born of this collaboration could land on WhatsApp or TikTok, mobile apps familiar to these families.Building value chainsAdditional research projects are teasing out novel ways of adding value to the products grown or made by Guatemalan hands.These include an educational toolkit developed with government farm extension workers to teach avocado producers how to improve their practices. The long-term goal is to grow and export larger and unblemished fruit for the lucrative U.S. market, currently dominated by Mexico. The kit, featuring simple graphics for growers who can’t read or don’t have the time, offers lessons on soil care, fertilizing, and protecting the fruit post-harvest.ASPIRE UVG Research Director Ana Lucia Solano is especially proud of “an immersive, animated, Monopoly-like game that shows farmers the impact of activities like buying fertilizer on their finances,” she says. “If small producers improve their practices, they will have better opportunities to sell their products at a better price, which may allow them to hire more people, teach others more easily, and offer better jobs and working conditions — and maybe this will help prevent farmworkers from having to leave the country.”Solano has just begun a similar program to educate cocoa producers. “The cocoa of Guatemala is wonderful, but the growers, who have great native knowledge, also need to learn new methods so they can transform their chocolate into the kind of high-quality product expected in European markets, with the help of AGEXPORT,” she says.At the UVG Altiplano campus, Mayan instructor Jeremías Morales, who runs the maker space, trained with Amy Smith, an MIT senior lecturer and founding director of the D-Lab, to facilitate creative capacity-building programs. He is working with nearby villages on a solution for the backbreaking labor of planting broccoli seedlings.“Here in Guatemala, small farm holders don’t have technology to do this task,” says Solano. Through design and prototyping workshops, the village and UVG professors have developed an inexpensive device that accomplishes this painful work. “After their next iteration of this technology, we can support the participants in starting a business,” says Solano.Opportunities to invent solutions to commonplace but vexing problems keep popping up. A small village of 100 families has to share two mills to grind corn for their tortillas. It’s a major household expense. With ASPIRE facilitators, a group of women designed a prototype corn mill for home use. “They were skeptical at first, especially when their initial prototypes didn’t work,” reports Solano, “but when they finally succeeded, there was so much excitement about the results, an energy and happiness that you could feel in the room.”Adopting an MIT mindsetThis feeling of empowerment, a pillar of sustainable development, has great meaning for UVG Professor Victor Hugo Ayerdi, an ASPIRE project manager and director of UVG’s Department of Mechanical Engineering.“In college and after I graduated, I thought since everything came from developed countries, and I was in a developing country, I couldn’t invent products.” With that mindset, he says, he went to work in manufacturing and sales for an international tire manufacturing company.But when he arrived at UVG in 2009, Ayerdi heard from mechanical engineering students who craved practical experience designing and building things. Determined to create maker spaces for the three UVG campuses, he took a field trip to MIT, whose motto is “mens et manus” or “mind and hand.”“The trip changed my life,” he says. “The MIT mindset is to believe in yourself, try things, and fail, but assume there has to be a way to do it.” As a result, he says, he realized UVG faculty and students could also use scientific and engineering knowledge to invent products, become entrepreneurs, spark economic growth; they had the capacity. He and other UVG colleagues were primed for change when the ASPIRE opportunity emerged.As some ASPIRE research projects wind down their initial phases, others are just gearing up, including an effort to fashion a water purification system from the shells of farmed shrimp. “We are only just starting to get results from our research,” says Stein. “But we are totally betting on the ASPIRE model because it works at MIT and other places.”The ASPIRE researchers acknowledge they are looking at long timelines to make significant inroads against environmental, health, educational, and economic challenges.“My greatest hope is that ASPIRE will have planted the seed of this innovation and entrepreneurship ecosystem model, and that in a decade, UVG will have optimized the different programs, whether in training, entrepreneurship, or research, enough to actively transfer them to other Central American universities,” says Stein.“We would like to be the hub of this network and we want to stay connected, because, in theory, we can work together on problems that we have in common in our region. That would be really cool.” More

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      in Energy

      3 Questions: Bridging anthropology and engineering for clean energy in Mongolia

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      In 2021, Michael Short, an associate professor of nuclear science and engineering, approached professor of anthropology Manduhai Buyandelger with an unusual pitch: collaborating on a project to prototype a molten salt heat bank in Mongolia, Buyandelger’s country of origin and place of her scholarship. It was also an invitation to forge a novel partnership between two disciplines that rarely overlap. Developed in collaboration with the National University of Mongolia (NUM), the device was built to provide heat for people in colder climates, and in places where clean energy is a challenge. Buyandelger and Short teamed up to launch Anthro-Engineering Decarbonization at the Million-Person Scale, an initiative intended to advance the heat bank idea in Mongolia, and ultimately demonstrate its potential as a scalable clean heat source in comparably challenging sites around the world. This project received funding from the inaugural MIT Climate and Sustainability Consortium Seed Awards program. In order to fund various components of the project, especially student involvement and additional staff, the project also received support from the MIT Global Seed Fund, New Engineering Education Transformation (NEET), Experiential Learning Office, Vice Provost for International Activities, and d’Arbeloff Fund for Excellence in Education.As part of this initiative, the partners developed a special topic course in anthropology to teach MIT undergraduates about Mongolia’s unique energy and climate challenges, as well as the historical, social, and economic context in which the heat bank would ideally find a place. The class 21A.S01 (Anthro-Engineering: Decarbonization at the Million-Person Scale) prepares MIT students for a January Independent Activities Period (IAP) trip to the Mongolian capital of Ulaanbaatar, where they embed with Mongolian families, conduct research, and collaborate with their peers. Mongolian students also engaged in the project. Anthropology research scientist and lecturer Lauren Bonilla, who has spent the past two decades working in Mongolia, joined to co-teach the class and lead the IAP trips to Mongolia. With the project now in its third year and yielding some promising solutions on the ground, Buyandelger and Bonilla reflect on the challenges for anthropologists of advancing a clean energy technology in a developing nation with a unique history, politics, and culture. Q: Your roles in the molten salt heat bank project mark departures from your typical academic routine. How did you first approach this venture?Buyandelger: As an anthropologist of contemporary religion, politics, and gender in Mongolia, I have had little contact with the hard sciences or building or prototyping technology. What I do best is listening to people and working with narratives. When I first learned about this device for off-the-grid heating, a host of issues came straight to mind right away that are based on socioeconomic and cultural context of the place. The salt brick, which is encased in steel, must be heated to 400 degrees Celsius in a central facility, then driven to people’s homes. Transportation is difficult in Ulaanbaatar, and I worried about road safety when driving the salt brick to gers [traditional Mongolian homes] where many residents live. The device seemed a bit utopian to me, but I realized that this was an amazing educational opportunity: We could use the heat bank as part of an ethnographic project, so students could learn about the everyday lives of people — crucially, in the dead of winter — and how they might respond to this new energy technology in the neighborhoods of Ulaanbaatar.Bonilla: When I first went to Mongolia in the early 2000s as an undergraduate student, the impacts of climate change were already being felt. There had been a massive migration to the capital after a series of terrible weather events that devastated the rural economy. Coal mining had emerged as a vital part of the economy, and I was interested in how people regarded this industry that both provided jobs and damaged the air they breathed. I am trained as a human geographer, which involves seeing how things happening in a local place correspond to things happening at a global scale. Thinking about climate or sustainability from this perspective means making linkages between social life and environmental life. In Mongolia, people associated coal with national progress. Based on historical experience, they had low expectations for interventions brought by outsiders to improve their lives. So my first take on the molten salt project was that this was no silver bullet solution. At the same time, I wanted to see how we could make this a great project-based learning experience for students, getting them to think about the kind of research necessary to see if some version of the molten salt would work.Q: After two years, what lessons have you and the students drawn from both the class and the Ulaanbaatar field trips?Buyandelger: We wanted to make sure MIT students would not go to Mongolia and act like consultants. We taught them anthropological methods so they could understand the experiences of real people and think about how to bring people and new technologies together. The students, from engineering and anthropological and social science backgrounds, became critical thinkers who could analyze how people live in ger districts. When they stay with families in Ulaanbaatar in January, they not only experience the cold and the pollution, but they observe what people do for work, how parents care for their children, how they cook, sleep, and get from one place to another. This enables them to better imagine and test out how these people might utilize the molten salt heat bank in their homes.Bonilla: In class, students learn that interventions like this often fail because the implementation process doesn’t work, or the technology doesn’t meet people’s real needs. This is where anthropology is so important, because it opens up the wider landscape in which you’re intervening. We had really difficult conversations about the professional socialization of engineers and social scientists. Engineers love to work within boxes, but don’t necessarily appreciate the context in which their invention will serve.As a group, we discussed the provocative notion that engineers construct and anthropologists deconstruct. This makes it seem as if engineers are creators, and anthropologists are brought in as add-ons to consult and critique engineers’ creations. Our group conversation concluded that a project such as ours benefits from an iterative back-and-forth between the techno-scientific and humanistic disciplines.Q: So where does the molten salt brick project stand?Bonilla: Our research in Mongolia helped us produce a prototype that can work: Our partners at NUM are developing a hybrid stove that incorporates the molten salt brick. Supervised by instructor Nathan Melenbrink of MIT’s NEET program, our engineering students have been involved in this prototyping as well.The concept is for a family to heat it up using a coal fire once a day and it warms their home overnight. Based on our anthropological research, we believe that this stove would work better than the device as originally conceived. It won’t eliminate coal use in residences, but it will reduce emissions enough to have a meaningful impact on ger districts in Ulaanbaatar. The challenge now is getting funding to NUM so they can test different salt combinations and stove models and employ local blacksmiths to work on the design.This integrated stove/heat bank will not be the ultimate solution to the heating and pollution crisis in Mongolia. But it will be something that can inspire even more ideas. We feel with this project we are planting all kinds of seeds that will germinate in ways we cannot anticipate. It has sparked new relationships between MIT and Mongolian students, and catalyzed engineers to integrate a more humanistic, anthropological perspective in their work.Buyandelger: Our work illustrates the importance of anthropology in responding to the unpredictable and diverse impacts of climate change. Without our ethnographic research — based on participant observation and interviews, led by Dr. Bonilla, — it would have been impossible to see how the prototyping and modifications could be done, and where the molten salt brick could work and what shape it needed to take. This project demonstrates how indispensable anthropology is in moving engineering out of labs and companies and directly into communities.Bonilla: This is where the real solutions for climate change are going to come from. Even though we need solutions quickly, it will also take time for new technologies like molten salt bricks to take root and grow. We don’t know where the outcomes of these experiments will take us. But there’s so much that’s emerging from this project that I feel very hopeful about. More

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      in Energy

      D-Lab off-grid brooder saves chicks and money using locally manufactured thermal batteries

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      MIT D-Lab students and instructors are improving the efficacy and economics of a brooder technology for newborn chicks that utilizes a practical, local resource: beeswax.Developed through participatory design with agricultural partners in Cameroon, their Off-Grid Brooder is a solution aimed at improving the profitability of the African nation’s small- and medium-scale poultry farms. Since it is common for smallholders in places with poor electricity supply to tend open fires overnight to keep chicks warm, the invention might also let farmers catch up on their sleep.“The target is eight hours. If farmers can sustain the warmth for eight hours, then they get to sleep,” says D-Lab instructor and former student Ahmad (Zak) Zakka SM ’23, who traveled to Cameroon in May to work on implementing brooder improvements tested at the D-Lab, along with D-Lab students, collaborators from African Solar Generation (ASG), and the African Diaspora Council of Switzerland – Branch Cameroon (CDAS–BC).Poultry farming is heavily concentrated in lower- and middle-income countries, where it is an important component of rural economies and provides an inexpensive source of protein for residents. Raising chickens is fraught with economic risk, however, largely because it is hard for small-scale farmers to keep newborn chicks warm enough to survive (33 to 35 degrees Celsius, or 91 to 95 degrees Fahrenheit, depending on age). After the cost of feed, firewood used to heat the chick space is the biggest input for rural poultry farmers.According to D-Lab researchers, an average smallholder in Cameroon using traditional brooding methods spends $17 per month on firewood, achieves a 10 percent profit margin, and experiences chick mortality that can be as high as a total loss due to overheating or insufficient heat. The Off-Grid Brooder is designed to replace open fires with inexpensive, renewable, and locally available beeswax — a phase-change material used to make thermal batteries.ASG initially developed a brooder technology, the SolarBox, that used photovoltaic panels and electric batteries to power incandescent bulbs. While this provided effective heating, it was prohibitively expensive and difficult to maintain. In 2020, students from the D-Lab Energy class took on the challenge of reducing the cost and complexity of the SolarBox heating system to make it more accessible to small farmers in Cameroon. Through participatory design — a collaborative approach that involves all stakeholders in early stages of the design process — the team discovered a unique solution. Beeswax stored in a used glass container (such as a mayonnaise jar) is melted using a double boiler over a fire and then installed inside insulated brooder boxes alongside the chicks. As the beeswax cools and solidifies, it releases heat for several hours, keeping the brooder within the temperature range that chicks need to grow and develop. Farmers can then recharge the cooled wax batteries and repeat the process again and again. “The big challenge was how to get heat,” says D-Lab Research Scientist Daniel Sweeney, who, with Zakka, co-teaches two D-Lab classes, 2.651/EC.711 (Introduction to Energy in Global Development), and 2.652/EC.712 (Applications of Energy in Global Development). “Decoupling the heat supplied by biomass (wood) from the heat the chicks need at night in the brooder, that’s the core of the innovation here.”D-Lab instructors, researchers, and students have tested and tuned the system with partners in Cameroon. A research box constructed during a D-Lab trip to Cameroon in January 2023 worked well, but was “very expensive to build,” Zakka says. “The research box was a proof of concept in the field. The next step was to figure out how to make it affordable,” he continues.A new brooder box, made entirely of locally sourced recycled materials at 5 percent of the cost of the research prototype, was developed during D-Lab’s January 2024 trip to Cameroon. Designed and produced in collaboration with CDAS-BC, the new brooder is much more affordable, but its functionality still needs fine-tuning. From late-May through mid-June, the D-Lab team, led by Zakka, worked with Cameroonian collaborators to improve the system again. This time, they assessed the efficacy of using straw, a readily available and low-cost material, arranged in panels to insulate the brooder box.The MIT team was hosted by CDAS-BC, including its president and founder Carole Erlemann Mengue and secretary and treasurer Kathrin Witschi, who operate an organic poultry farm in Afambassi, Cameroon. “The students will experiment with the box and try to improve the insulation of the box without neglecting that the chicks will need ventilation,” they say.In addition, the CDAS-BC partners say that they hoped to explore increasing the number of chicks that the box can keep warm. “If the system could heat 500 to 1,000 chicks at a time,” they note, “it would help farmers save firewood, to sleep through the night, and to minimize the risk of fire in the building and the risk of stepping on chicks while replacing firewood.” Earlier this spring, Erlemann Mengue and Witschi tested the low-cost Off-Grid Brooder Box, which can hold 30 to 40 chicks in its current design.“They were very interested in partnering with us to evaluate the technology. They are running the tests and doing a lot of technical measurement to track the temperature inside the brooder over time,” says Sweeney, adding that the CDAS-BC partners are amassing datasets that they send to the MIT D-Lab team. Sweeney and Zakka, along with PhD candidate Aly Kombargi, who worked on the research box in Cameroon last year, hope to not only improve the functionality of the Off-Grid Poultry Brooder but also broaden its use beyond Cameroon.“The goal of our trip was to have a working prototype, and the goal since then has been to scale this up,” Kombargi says. “It’s absolutely scalable.”Concurring that “the technology should work across developing countries in small-scale poultry sectors,” Zakka says this spring’s D-Lab trip included workshops for area poultry farmers to teach them about benefits of the Off-Grid Brooder and how to make their own. “I’m excited to see if we can get people excited about pushing this as a business … to see if they would build and sell it to other people in the community,” Zakka says.Adds Sweeney, “This isn’t rocket science. If we have some guidance and some open-source information we could share, I’m pretty sure (farmers) could put them together on their own.”Already, he says, partners identified through MIT’s networks in Zambia and Uganda are building their own brooders based on the D-Lab design.MIT’s Abdul Latif Jameel Water and Food Systems Lab (J-WAFS), which supports research, innovation, and cross-disciplinary collaborations involving water and food systems, awarded the Off-Grid Brooder project a $25,000 research and development grant in 2022. The program is “pleased that the project’s approach was grounded in engagement with MIT students and community collaborators,” says Executive Director Renee Robins. “The participatory design process helped produce innovative prototypes that are already making positive impacts for smallholder poultry farmers.”That process and the very real impact on communities in Cameroon is what draws students to the project and keeps them committed.Sweeney says a recent D-Lab design review for the chick brooder highlighted that the project continued to attract the attention and curiosity of students who participated in earlier stages and still want to be involved.“There’s something about this project. There’s this whole tribe of students that are still active on the broader project,” he says. “There’s something about it.” More