This year, the startup Gigablue made headlines by selling 200,000 carbon credits in support of a purported breakthrough technology designated to combat climate change. The company, founded by Israeli entrepreneurs just three years ago, claims to have developed particles that, when released in the ocean, trap carbon at the seabed. Endorsed as a natural solution, Gigablue promotes its innovation as a planetary savior.
However, the lack of detailed information has left some scientists skeptical about Gigablue’s methodologies. These qualms highlight the tensions inherent in an industry characterized by sparse regulation and ambitious claims—where profit can be an enticing prospect.
Jimmy Pallas, an Italian event organizer, partnered with Gigablue last year. Believing the startup fulfills its promises, Pallas arranged to offset the emissions from a 1,000-guest event using ocean-trapped particles. He likened Gigablue’s service to a “trash can” for disposing of emissions, reflecting his implicit trust in the company’s assurances.
Gigablue’s ambition transcends mere emission offsets. Initially named “Gigaton,” referring to the billions of metric tons of carbon dioxide scientists aim to remove annually to curb global warming, the company has lofty goals. After running trials in the South Pacific Ocean last year, Gigablue is seeking collaboration with local governments to develop a “sequestration field” where particles can be seasonally dispersed.
The startup claims this is a cost-efficient solution designed to attract investors. Co-founder Ori Shaashua stated that every ocean deployment results in the generation of hundreds of thousands of carbon credits—a process Gigablue intends to replicate, exponentially increasing in scale.
In a decade marked by increased carbon credit popularity, corporations like Microsoft and Google opt for these credits voluntarily to ostensibly shrink their carbon footprint without reducing their own emissions. However, the regulatory landscape is uneven, scientific underpinnings complex, and some associations to fraud have surfaced.
SkiesFifty, a new entity promoting environmental friendliness within the aviation industry, pledged to purchase Gigablue’s 200,000 credits. This commitment marks the largest ocean-based climate startup transaction to date, as per tracking data from CDR.fyi, revealing the sale constitutes a considerable portion of the ocean-derived carbon credits sold last year.
Meanwhile, Gigablue aimed to achieve a ratio of capturing 10 metric tons of CO2 for each ton of particles deployed by year’s end. Looking ahead, the company anticipates dispersing upwards of 20,000 tons of particles. The financial specifics of these transactions remain confidential; however, a chart on Gigablue’s site suggests its prices are lower compared to alternative carbon capture methods.
The brainchild of four tech industry veterans, Gigablue has moved briskly from Israel to New York and New Zealand, adding numerous Ph.D. holders to its team. In promotional efforts, the company’s workforce has actively invited candidates to “Join Our Mission to Save the World!”
The mechanically conceived particles are intended to accelerate the natural carbon-capture process by growing algae and sinking with trapped carbon to the ocean’s depths. Shaashua described the company as an “elevator” shuttling carbon from the ocean’s surface to the bottom.
Algae, valued for its carbon absorption abilities, captures carbon dioxide from ocean water as it matures. Gigablue anticipates this method will result in lasting carbon sequestration on the ocean floor, thereby rebalancing carbon dioxide levels between the ocean and atmosphere.
Trial runs initiated in the Mediterranean and subsequent voyages off New Zealand coastlines saw Gigablue deploying vast quantities of particles. Yet, what exactly composes these particles remains proprietary, with Gigablue tailoring materials seasonally and regionally.
Public documents hint at possible ingredients: a blend featuring vermiculite, manganese, iron, and other components. Despite keeping material specifics under wraps, Gigablue has assured that all products are safe and match naturally occurring ocean substances.
Nevertheless, scientists are pressing for transparency, questioning the efficacy and environmental impacts. Critiques converge on algae growth, potential bacterial attraction, and the impact on marine life. Despite widespread interest in assessing the technology, key data and third-party research on Gigablue’s results remain scarce.
Regulation-wise, Puro.earth—a Finnish entity among several carbon market registries—aims to verify Gigablue’s market claims, drawing standards yet finalized from Gigablue collaborations. Puro.earth endeavors with hope that these standards might soon help propel the nascent maritime carbon capture market.
New Zealand, handling Gigablue’s current operations as research rather than commercial endeavors, offers no formal oversight for expansions beyond research, effectively leaving validation to unregulated trade practices. As these experimentation efforts coincide with regulatory voids, concerns linger regarding the viability of global treaties that preclude oceanic climate interventions.
The coming months will see further trials, and while unanswered scientific queries remain, Gigablue’s endeavor attracts interest for its innovative take on imperative climate challenges. Meanwhile, enthusiastic supporters like Pallas continue to keep faith in Gigablue’s potential, hopeful it will pioneer effective methods to address worsening climate impacts.