Opinion
Seaweed And Biofuel’s Aquatic Future
The long-term impact of yesterday startling announcement by Standard & Poor’s that it was downgrading United States Government bonds to one notch below AAA, a rating that the US had maintained since 1917, has yet to be seen on Wall Street.
But there is little doubt that it will spook the investor community, all of whom are looking for the next Big Thing to park their cash and hopefully make piles more money.
One of the few financial markets certain to prosper over the next decade is that of renewable biofuels. The ASTM as certified them for civilian aircraft used, and the Pentagon is busy scrambling to fulfil federal mandates are upping their use of biofuel: the Air Force is to get 50 per cent of its fuel needs from biofuel in 2015, and the Navy at decade later.
But, where to go for the most reliable feedstock? In Pentagon test, three leading contenders have emerged – camelina, jatropha and algae. While all three have their merits, “micro” algae still seems like the longest shot, remaining largely within the realm of the Pentagon’s Defence Advanced Research Projects Agency laboratories, and most analysts believe that it will be some time before we see pond scum fuelling the Pentagon’s aircraft and warships.
Now however, disillusioned scientific researchers in India, having spent more than two years investigating microalgae, have directed their research elsewhere, resulting in a start-up company that may eventually resemble nothing so much as the early days of Xerox and Apple Computers.
Sea6 Energy, an Indian start-up company based in Chennai, (formerly Madras), the capital of the Indian state of Tamil Nadu, located on the Coromandel Coast of the Bay of Bengal, have begun experimenting with macro algae, more commonly known as seaweed.
Sea6 Energy’s founders, four postgraduate students and their professor at the Indian Institute of Technology Madras, eventually concluded that algae’s possibilities as a biofuel feedstock lay many years in the future, noting that the micro-organism needs significant amounts of fresh water, large amounts of nutrients and significant areas of land for establishing growing ponds. Sea6 Energy chairman Shrikumar Suryanarayan noted simply, “We were preparing to abandon the project when we realized that we were chasing the wrong idea.”
Suryanarayan and his team noted that seaweed has a number of advantages over its microscopic cousin, particularly since it grows in shallow ocean waters and doesn’t need land, water or nutrients, as the ocean provides them.
Sea6 Energy was formed in July 2010 when Shrikumar and a few IIT Madras alumni contributed about $20,000 in start-up funds.
Sea6 Energy’s location has a number of advantages, including the fact that technology for its cultivating seaweed is already well established, as it is being grown along the Tamil Nadu coast as a raw material for some cosmetics. Multination Pepsi had also hired people in coastal Tamil Nadu to cultivate seaweed for its food products.
The new start up faced a number of technical problems. Tamil Nadu farmers cultivate seaweed on floating bamboo rafts in calm waters. In order to ramp up the scale to industrial production, Sea6 realised that bamboo rafts break because they were rigid structures, developing instead an offshore farming system, based on a marine plastics polymer, within six months of the company’s incorporation, for which it has filed a provisional patent application.
Sea6 energy’s structures would allow seaweed to be cultivated in rougher waters, where it could not be done earlier, potentially opening up vast stretches of coastline for farming and providing increased employment opportunities to rural communities.
Sea6 Energy is now tackling the problem of finding a biological method to break down the plant into sugars and then converting the sugars into alcohol. Seaweed biomass is rich in carbohydrates, which can be converted into sugars. Unlike plants, seaweed contains no lignin and is easier to break down. Sea6 needs a microorganism that works in seawater and its research has discovered a few.
Converting the sugars into alcohol or other fuels is the easiest task. “Once you have sugars,” says KB Ramachandran, professor of biotechnology at IIT Madras, who is involved with the company, “we can make any petrochemical product.”
Macro algae produce oil directly and when compared to plants, the economics and technology are loaded heavily in favour of seaweed; while sugarcane produces 30 tons in a hectare, a similar area can produce 100 tons of seaweed.
Sea6 Energy estimates would need $1.1-$1.34 million over the next four years to develop a farm of one square kilometre with a demonstration plant that produces ethanol and other petrochemical products.
Sea6 Energy noted that, “Seaweeds, technically known as macro-algae, offer an unmatched potential for scalability by growing directly on the ocean surface and extracting nutrients from flowing water.”
So, gentle readers, do the potential “scalability” of potentially investing in such a project. India has approximately 4,000 miles of coastline, bounded as it is on three sides by seas, and 0.13 million square kilometres of territorial waters. That is as lot of aquatic biomass.
Remember, you read it here first.
Dr. Daly wrote this piece from London for Washington, DC-based OilPrice.com.
John Daly
The events that unfolded in Abuja on Tuesday November 11, 2025 between the Minister of the Federal Capital Territory, Chief Nyesom Wike and a detachment of soldiers guarding a disputed property, led by Adams Yerima, a commissioned Naval Officer, may go down as one of the defining images of Nigeria’s democratic contradictions. It was not merely a quarrel over land. It was a confrontation between civil authority and the military legacy that still hovers over our national life.
Nyesom Wike, fiery and fearless as always, was seen on video exchanging words with a uniformed officer who refused to grant him passage to inspect a parcel of land alleged to have been illegally acquired. The minister’s voice rose, his temper flared, and the soldier, too, stood his ground, insisting on his own authority. Around them, aides, security men, and bystanders watched, stunned, as two embodiments of the Nigerian state clashed in the open.
The images spread fast, igniting debates across drawing rooms, beer parlours, and social media platforms. Some hailed Wike for standing up to military arrogance; others scolded him for perceived disrespect to the armed forces. Yet beneath the noise lies a deeper question about what sort of society we are building and whether power in Nigeria truly understands the limits of its own reach.
It is tragic that, more than two decades into civil rule, the relationship between the civilian arm of government and the military remains fragile and poorly understood. The presence of soldiers in a land dispute between private individuals and the city administration is, by all civic standards, an aberration. It recalls a dark era when might was right, and uniforms conferred immunity against accountability.
Wike’s anger, even if fiery, was rooted in a legitimate concern: that no individual, however connected or retired, should deploy the military to protect personal interests. That sentiment echoes the fundamental democratic creed that the law is supreme, not personalities. If his passion overshot decorum, it was perhaps a reflection of a nation weary of impunity.
On the other hand, the soldier in question is a symbol of another truth: that discipline, respect for order, and duty to hierarchy are ingrained in our armed forces. He may have been caught between conflicting instructions one from his superiors, another from a civilian minister exercising his lawful authority. The confusion points not to personal failure but to institutional dysfunction.
It is, therefore, simplistic to turn the incident into a morality play of good versus evil.
*********”**** What happened was an institutional embarrassment. Both men represented facets of the same failing system a polity still learning how to reconcile authority with civility, law with loyalty, and service with restraint.
In fairness, Wike has shown himself as a man of uncommon courage. Whether in Rivers State or at the FCTA, he does not shy away from confrontation. Yet courage without composure often feeds misunderstanding. A public officer must always be the cooler head, even when provoked, because the power of example outweighs the satisfaction of winning an argument.
Conversely, soldiers, too, must be reminded that their uniforms do not place them above civilian oversight. The military exists to defend the nation, not to enforce property claims or intimidate lawful authorities. Their participation in purely civil matters corrodes the image of the institution and erodes public trust.
One cannot overlook the irony: in a country where kidnappers roam highways and bandits sack villages, armed men are posted to guard contested land in the capital. It reflects misplaced priorities and distorted values. The Nigerian soldier, trained to defend sovereignty, should not be drawn into private or bureaucratic tussles.
Sycophancy remains the greatest ailment of our political culture. Many of those who now cheer one side or the other do so not out of conviction but out of convenience. Tomorrow they will switch allegiance. True patriotism lies not in defending personalities but in defending principles. A people enslaved by flattery cannot nurture a culture of justice.
The Nigerian elite must learn to submit to the same laws that govern the poor. When big men fence off public land and use connections to shield their interests, they mock the very constitution they swore to uphold. The FCT, as the mirror of national order, must not become a jungle where only the powerful can build.
The lesson for Wike himself is also clear: power is best exercised with calmness. The weight of his office demands more than bravery; it demands statesmanship. To lead is not merely to command, but to persuade — even those who resist your authority.
Equally, the lesson for the armed forces is that professionalism shines brightest in restraint. Obedience to illegal orders is not loyalty; it is complicity. The soldier who stands on the side of justice protects both his honour and the dignity of his uniform.
The Presidency, too, must see this episode as a wake-up call to clarify institutional boundaries. If soldiers can be drawn into civil enforcement without authorization, then our democracy remains at risk of subtle militarization. The constitution must speak louder than confusion.
The Nigerian public deserves better than spectacles of ego. We crave leaders who rise above emotion and officers who respect civilian supremacy. Our children must not inherit a nation where authority means shouting matches and intimidation in public glare.
Every democracy matures through such tests. What matters is whether we learn the right lessons. The British once had generals who defied parliament; the Americans once fought over states’ rights; Nigeria, too, must pass through her own growing pains but with humility, not hubris.
If the confrontation has stirred discomfort, then perhaps it has done the nation some good. It forces a conversation long overdue: Who truly owns the state — the citizen or the powerful? Can we build a Nigeria where institutions, not individuals, define our destiny?
As the dust settles, both the FCTA and the military hierarchy must conduct impartial investigations. The truth must be established — not to shame anyone, but to restore order. Where laws were broken, consequences must follow. Where misunderstandings occurred, apologies must be offered.
Let the rule of law triumph over the rule of impulse. Let civility triumph over confrontation. Let governance return to the path of dialogue and procedure.
Nigeria cannot continue to oscillate between civilian bravado and military arrogance. Both impulses spring from the same insecurity — the fear of losing control. True leadership lies in the ability to trust institutions to do their work without coercion.
Those who witnessed the clash saw a drama of two gladiators. One in starched khaki, one in well-cut suit. Both proud, both unyielding. But a nation cannot be built on stubbornness; it must be built on understanding. Power, when it meets power, should produce order, not chaos.
We must resist the temptation to glorify temper. Governance is not warfare; it is stewardship. The citizen watches, the world observes, and history records. How we handle moments like this will define our collective maturity.
The confrontation may have ended without violence, but it left deep questions in the national conscience. When men of authority quarrel in the open, institutions tremble. The people, once again, become spectators in a theatre of misplaced pride.
It is time for all who hold office — civilian or military — to remember that they serve under the same flag. That flag is neither khaki nor political colour; it is green-white-green, and it demands humility.
No victor, no vanquish only a lesson for a nation still learning to govern itself with dignity.
By; King Onunwor
