Early December 2025 brought both celestial wonders and sobering reminders of the Sun’s unpredictable power, captivating skywatchers and rattling global transportation and technology systems. On December 6, astronomers and amateur stargazers alike turned their telescopes toward Jupiter, where Europa and its shadow swept dramatically across the planet’s vast cloud tops—a sight only visible to those willing to brave the cold, predawn hours. But while the outer solar system delivered spectacle, Earth and its immediate neighborhood faced far more tangible consequences from our tempestuous star.
According to Astronomy magazine, the week was packed with opportunities for skywatchers. Mercury, the innermost planet, reached its greatest western elongation from the Sun at 4 P.M. EST on December 7, standing a notable 21° west of our star. For those up before dawn, Mercury was visible at 6 A.M. local time, perched about 6° above the eastern horizon in the constellation Libra and shining brightly at magnitude –0.4. Close by, the fainter Gamma Librae offered a handy reference point. Through a telescope, Mercury revealed itself as a 7"-wide disk, just over half illuminated, with sunlight casting its glow from below—an orientation that hinted at the Sun’s imminent rise.
Observers were reminded to stow their optics a few minutes before sunrise, which was scheduled for 7:09 A.M. at 40° N 90° W. The Moon, meanwhile, was in a waning gibbous phase with 86% illumination, setting at 10:10 A.M. and rising again at 7:35 P.M. The combination of these planetary and lunar phenomena made for a memorable week for anyone with a passion for the night sky.
Yet, as BBC reported, the Sun’s beauty is matched by its capacity for disruption. While many marveled at vivid auroras—those dancing sheets of green and pink that occasionally illuminate the night—others grappled with the fallout from intense solar activity. The same charged particles that create the aurora borealis can, in rare but severe cases, wreak havoc on Earth’s most critical systems.
This reality hit home on October 30, 2025, when a JetBlue Airlines Airbus A320, flying from Cancun, Mexico to Newark, USA, suddenly lost altitude. The culprit? Interference from intense solar radiation. The episode forced the plane to divert to Florida, where 15 passengers were hospitalized for treatment. Airbus’s subsequent investigation revealed that space weather had corrupted data in the aircraft’s elevator aileron computer, which controls the plane’s flaps. This malfunction caused an unexpected pitch-down—a frightening moment for all on board.
In response, authorities issued an Emergency Airworthiness Directive, grounding more than 6,000 Airbus planes until a software update or computer hardware upgrade could be installed. The directive didn’t mince words about the stakes: "In the worst-case scenario an uncommanded elevator movement may result in exceeding the aircraft's structural capability." It was a stark reminder that, even in an age of advanced technology, nature’s reach is long and sometimes perilous.
Such incidents are not isolated. As BBC further noted, the UK government’s National Risk Register lists severe space weather alongside nuclear incidents, terrorist attacks, and disease outbreaks as threats that keep officials up at night. The planning for such events often references the Carrington Event of 1859—the most intense geomagnetic storm in recorded history. Back then, telegraph operators suffered electric shocks, pylons sparked, and messages continued to transmit even when batteries were disconnected. If a storm of similar magnitude were to strike today, the consequences would be exponentially greater.
Modern society’s reliance on satellites and electricity grids makes us especially vulnerable. Strong solar storms expand Earth’s atmosphere into space, increasing drag on satellites and, in some cases, causing them to deorbit. This isn’t merely hypothetical: in February 2022, a solar storm led to the loss of 38 satellites. The resulting orbital changes also heighten the risk of collisions, while sensitive onboard electronics can malfunction under solar bombardment.
Radio communications and GPS systems are particularly at risk. A major solar storm could disrupt navigation for days, leaving drivers stranded and cities snarled in gridlock. For aviation, the stakes are even higher. Without reliable GPS, safe air travel is compromised—a reality underscored by the JetBlue incident and echoed in the Emergency Airworthiness Directive.
Electricity grids aren’t immune either. In March 1989, space weather knocked out power in Quebec, Canada for nine hours, leaving millions without heat and light. Such events underline the interconnectedness—and fragility—of our technological infrastructure.
How likely is a repeat of the Carrington Event? In July 2012, Earth had a narrow escape when a Carrington-class solar storm erupted from the Sun. Fortunately, the active region wasn’t facing our planet, and the blast sailed harmlessly into space. But luck won’t always be on our side. Researchers have found evidence in tree ring data from fossilized wood of so-called Miyake events—solar storms possibly ten times stronger than the Carrington Event. The last of these occurred about a thousand years ago, suggesting that it’s not a question of if, but when, another such storm might strike.
With each new episode of solar turbulence, scientists and governments are reminded of the need to prepare. The National Risk Register’s inclusion of space weather as a major hazard is a sign of growing awareness, but also a call to action. Planning for the unpredictable is no easy feat, yet the stakes—public safety, economic stability, even the integrity of everyday technology—demand nothing less.
For now, the sky continues to enchant and challenge in equal measure. Whether it’s Mercury’s fleeting dawn appearance, Europa’s shadow racing across Jupiter, or the aurora shimmering overhead, the heavens offer both inspiration and caution. As we look up in wonder, we’re reminded that our place in the solar system is both privileged and precarious—at the mercy of cosmic forces that can dazzle or disrupt, often with little warning.
