Cloud Seeding and the Mirage of Quick Fixes

Delhi’s deadly air is nothing new, but its response this winter was. On October 28, two planes set out for the national capital, carrying a mixture of silver iodide and sodium chloride—not for scientific investigation but for hope. It is hoped that artificial rain would clear the skies over the city. The Delhi Government’s cloud seeding effort, carried out in partnership with IIT Kanpur, was India’s first major attempt to combat air pollution using weather modification. The effort, costing in crores, aimed to generate rainfall over specified regions of Delhi when pollution levels reached the "severe" category. However, the much-anticipated showers never came. Meteorological restrictions, particularly low humidity and insufficient cloud moisture, prevented the compounds from causing precipitation. What followed was a familiar pattern: a promising scientific intervention transformed into a fleeting spectacle with no demonstrable consequence.

Cloud seeding is not new in India. Several states, including Maharashtra, Karnataka, and Andhra Pradesh, have previously attempted it, but for drought mitigation rather than air quality. Dispersing particles such as silver iodide or sodium chloride into moisture-laden clouds promotes the creation of rainfall. In theory, it is a straightforward concept. In practice, it is quite conditional. The success of cloud seeding is determined by factors outside human control, including humidity, temperature, wind speed, and cloud density. When things aren't favorable—like in Delhi's late-October sky—even the best-planned missions fail to produce results. The IIT Kanpur team determined that moisture levels were lower than the 60-70% threshold required for precipitation.

This raises the fundamental question: Can cloud seeding be used as a viable air pollution control strategy? The scientific consensus suggests—not consistently. At best, it is an experimental tool; at worst, it is a political diversion from addressing the underlying causes of pollution, such as automobile emissions, stubble burning, industrial discharge, and construction dust.

If Delhi's attempt was groundbreaking in air quality control, the Gulf countries have been utilizing cloud seeding for decades for a completely different reason: water security. The UAE, Saudi Arabia, and Oman routinely fly planes into the clouds to fight dryness and get more water. The UAE's National Center of Meteorology did more than 300 seeding operations in 2024. The government has spent a lot of money on research into radar technology, drone-based seeding, and the atmosphere to identify the best conditions for clouds. The difference with Delhi is interesting. In the Gulf, cloud seeding is governed by a well-defined regulatory framework that includes specific meteorological thresholds, government control, and a long-term goal for water sustainability. In Delhi, it was a reactionary emergency measure, implemented during peak smog levels—a political quick fix rather than a climate policy tool.

While Gulf states utilize seeding to safeguard their future, Delhi uses it to control the present. This difference in purpose explains why the outcomes—and public perception—are so disparate. Seeding represents continuity in the UAE's climate adaptation and resource management policies. To Delhi, it was novel: a one-time experiment presented as a breakthrough. The Gulf's goals are built on years of little changes and cooperation between universities, weather agencies, and aviation authorities. Delhi, on the other hand, met its goal in just a few weeks because of short-term political will and beautiful weather.

That is a really important difference. Cloud seeding, like other technologies that change the weather, needs to be planned and accurate, not done on a whim. It needs a government that combines fresh ideas with accountability, weather infrastructure, and sustained investment. None of these is now available in India's broken system for managing the environment.

Also, even if cloud seeding worked to make it rain, it's not clear how well it would work to control pollution. Artificial rain may make some particles in the air go away for a short period, but it doesn't stop cars, factories, and open burning from polluting the air all the time. If nothing changes, like utilizing cleaner fuels, making public transportation more available, and making tight building restrictions, the next weather window will hurt Delhi's air.

The irony is that, as Delhi turns to the skies for remedies, the problem stays firmly rooted in policy paralysis, interstate blame games, and an electorate accustomed to crisis rather than prevention. In this sense, cloud seeding is more of a metaphor for India's ongoing battle to translate science into long-term governance.

Perhaps the main lesson from the Arab East is not the science of cloud seeding, but the discipline that underpins it. The Gulf's attempts to change the weather are founded on a long-standing scientific culture that values long-term investment over show and preparation above fear.

India needs to change its way of thinking before any experiment, no matter how well-intentioned, can turn into political theater. Delhi really needs more than simply rain; it needs clear administration as well. The government needs to be willing to deal with the causes of pollution instead of just covering up the effects. Science can provide tools, but only politics can ensure long-term change. Without such alignment, even the most advanced technologies will be, very literally, mist in the wind. And when the smog accumulates each winter, the clamor is not for more clouds to seed, but for more solid ground to stand on. In the end, Delhi’s cloud seeding experiment is both a warning and a call to action. The skies may not have opened, but the episode underlined a more important need: to combine scientific innovation with consistent governance, evidence-based policy, and a true commitment to public health.