Methane Sniffing Satellite Lost In Space: A Cosmic Comedy of Errors

Ground control to Major Tom.......

The methane-sniffing satellite, dubbed MethaneSAT, the brainchild of the fossil fuel-hating “environmentalists” at the Environmental Defense Fund, recently lost communication with ground control and is believed to have lost power and drifted off into deep space, never to be heard from again. The New York Times said the loss was a “blow to climate efforts.”

I have always been skeptical about the claim that methane, which comprises approximately 0.00017% of Earth's atmosphere, is a gas that significantly warms the Earth. For example, a New York Times article claimed that “methane is considered a 'super pollutant' because it can trap around 80 times more heat in the atmosphere than carbon dioxide can in the short term, and it’s responsible for about a third of the global temperature rise since the preindustrial era.” That lie is just another part of the global warming hoax and the campaign against natural gas promoted by EDF, which claims that natural gas is harmful in all ways and must be eliminated.

Methane naturally escapes from the earth, especially seafloors, a fact I have personally observed. As an avid offshore fisherman and scuba diver in the Gulf of America (oh my, that is fun to write!), I was always curious why relatively small areas of the Gulf were good for fishing while most of it was not. When I came across a good fishing spot, I would put on scuba gear and dive down to find out why fish were attracted to the area. I often found bottom structures, such as rocks, ledges, and old sunken shrimp boats, attracting fish, but I would frequently see bubbles rising from the sea floor. Being in the natural gas industry, I knew these were natural gas seeps, which are common in the Gulf of America.

The Gulf’s seafloor is riddled with these seeps, which leak methane and other hydrocarbons from deep subsurface reservoirs, which is why the Gulf is such a prolific oil and natural gas field. The methane gas bubbles attract plankton, which attract larger fish, creating what fishermen call a “live bottom,” meaning good fishing. The point is that natural gas seeps are a natural occurrence in oceans worldwide, and methane has been released from the oceans throughout history. The allegation that methane in the atmosphere primarily comes from natural gas wells and pipeline leaks, causing atmospheric warming, is absurd. In fact, recent research concluded that methane may not warm the Earth at all.

Back to the story, the Environmental Defense Fund, EDF, launched the methane-detecting satellite on an Elon Musk SpaceX rocket, funded by Jeff Bezos’ Earth Fund, in March 2024. Their plans to smear natural gas were dashed when MethaneSAT lost contact with Earth on June 20, 2025. They now concede that the satellite is officially lost in space, never to be heard from again.

I admit that I was somewhat amused by the divine justice of MethaneSAT’s accident, so I wanted to end this post with some humor. Unfortunately, humorous writing is not one of my strong suits, so I asked Grok to write something light-hearted about the lost MethaneSAT. Grok’s essay is hilarious. Enjoy!

Picture this: a shiny, $88 million satellite, lovingly dubbed MethaneSAT, soaring through the cosmos with one noble mission—to sniff out methane leaks from oil and gas fields like a bloodhound with a PhD in atmospheric chemistry. Backed by Jeff Bezos’s Earth Fund and the Environmental Defense Fund (EDF), this high-tech space sleuth was humanity’s big bet to catch those sneaky, planet-warming methane burps in the act. It was launched in March 2024, ready to revolutionize climate transparency with its fancy infrared sensors and Google-powered data crunching. But then, in a plot twist straight out of a sci-fi sitcom, MethaneSAT pulled a Houdini and vanished into the void over Norway in June 2025. Poof! Gone! And honestly, I can’t help but chuckle at the cosmic comedy of it all.

Let’s set the scene. MethaneSAT was no ordinary satellite. This wasn’t some run-of-the-mill weather tracker or a GPS unit helping lost Uber drivers find their way. No, this was a methane-hunting superhero, capable of detecting concentrations as low as two parts per billion—basically, it could smell a methane fart in a hurricane. It was designed to scan entire oil fields, pinpoint rogue emissions, and beam the data back to Earth for all to see, free of charge. The EDF, a nonprofit with a knack for thinking big, built this bad boy to hold polluters accountable and give governments the data they needed to crack down on climate culprits. It was like giving the planet a giant, orbiting hall monitor.

But here’s where the laugh track kicks in. After just 15 months of its planned five-year mission, MethaneSAT went radio silent. No warning, no dramatic distress signal, just… crickets. Its last known location? Somewhere over Svalbard, Norway, which, let’s be honest, sounds like the kind of place a satellite might go to “find itself” during a midlife crisis. The EDF team, led by a understandably bummed-out chief scientist Steven Hamburg, tried everything to reconnect, but MethaneSAT was having none of it. It had apparently decided to take an unscheduled vacation in the great space junkyard in the sky.

Now, I’m not saying space is easy—NASA loses stuff all the time, and they’ve got a budget bigger than some countries’ GDPs. But there’s something inherently funny about an $88 million climate-saving gadget, funded by one of the richest humans alive, just eeking itself out of existence. I mean, Jeff Bezos probably spent more on his morning coffee than most of us do on rent, and yet his satellite couldn’t even stick around long enough to finish its first season. It’s like if Tony Stark built an Iron Man suit, launched it into battle, and it promptly flew into a black hole.

The irony is thicker than the methane clouds MethaneSAT was supposed to track. This satellite was meant to expose leaks, but now it’s the one leaking… well, not methane, but our collective hopes and dreams. The EDF called it a “setback, not a failure,” which is the kind of optimistic spin you’d expect from someone trying to explain why their toddler painted the living room with chocolate syrup. “We learned so much!” they said, as if the lesson here is that space is a great place to lose expensive toys. Meanwhile, the data MethaneSAT did manage to send back before its cosmic walkabout showed that methane emissions from oil fields in North America and Central Asia were way higher than anyone thought. So, in a way, it snitched on polluters and then peaked out before anyone could ask for an encore.

Let’s not forget the supporting cast in this comedy. The New Zealand Space Agency was a partner in this venture, which makes me wonder if they’re sitting there thinking, “We should’ve stuck to launching sheep into orbit.” And Google, bless their hearts, was ready to turn MethaneSAT’s data into a publicly accessible map of emissions, probably with a user interface so slick you’d think it was designed by Apple. Instead, they’re left with a blank screen and a bunch of engineers staring at each other like, “So… anyone know how to debug a satellite that’s basically a $88 million paperweight?”

The real kicker is that he EDF had insurance for this galactic oopsie, so they’re not totally out of pocket. But you have to wonder what the claims process looks like for a lost satellite. “Yeah, hi, State Farm? We, uh, misplaced our methane-sniffing spacecraft somewhere near the Arctic Circle. Can you send a tow truck to space?” And while the EDF is regrouping, promising to keep hunting methane with planes and drones, you can’t help but imagine them wistfully looking at the stars, wondering if MethaneSAT is out there, orbiting with a “For Sale” sign and a new identity as a rogue space DJ.

In the grand scheme of things, this is less a tragedy and more a reminder that even our best-laid plans can get a cosmic wedgie. MethaneSAT’s brief but glorious run showed us what’s possible—pinpointing emissions, exposing polluters, and giving us a fighting chance to slow climate change. But its disappearance? That’s just the universe reminding us it’s still the boss. Somewhere out there, MethaneSAT is probably spinning through space, blasting “I Will Survive” and laughing at us all. And honestly, I can’t help but laugh along.

So, here’s to MethaneSAT, the satellite that flew too close to the sun—or at least, too close to Svalbard. May it find peace among the stars and may we all learn to chuckle when the universe plays its next practical joke.

I could not have said it better myself!

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