Terawatt to Donkeypower

The Sun delivers about 173,000 TW to Earth's surface. Human civilisation uses roughly 18 TW total. So we'd only need to capture 0.01% of incoming solar energy to power everything — an area of solar panels roughly 400 km × 400 km, about the size of Montana. The challenge isn't total energy availability; it's cost, storage, transmission, and the fact that sunlight is spread thin and intermittent.

Imagine 18 trillion light bulbs burning continuously, or 9 billion people each running a 2 kW heater non-stop. That 18 TW figure includes everything — electricity, transport fuel, industrial heat, cooking, heating. About 40% comes from oil, 27% from coal, 24% from gas, and the rest from nuclear and renewables. The US alone accounts for about 3 TW despite having only 4% of world population.

Replacing all 18 TW of human energy with clean sources would require roughly 60–75 TW of installed solar capacity (accounting for ~25% average capacity factor). That's about 40 times current installed solar. At 2023 installation rates of ~0.4 TW/year, it would take 150 years — but installation rates are doubling every 2–3 years. If that exponential trend holds, we could theoretically reach 60 TW of solar within 15–20 years.

Earth radiates about 47 TW of geothermal heat from its interior, driven by radioactive decay and residual primordial heat. That's 2.5× human energy consumption, but it's spread across the entire surface at extremely low density (~0.09 W/m²). Iceland, sitting atop a mantle plume, exploits geothermal for 90% of its heating. Globally, geothermal electricity capacity is only about 16 GW — a tiny fraction of what's theoretically available.

No — the terawatt scale is a very recent phenomenon. In 1800, global human power consumption was about 0.5 TW (mostly biomass burning). By 1900 it reached 1 TW with coal industrialisation. We crossed 10 TW around 1985. The jump from 1 to 18 TW in just 120 years tracks almost perfectly with global population growth times rising per-capita energy use. Pre-industrial humans used about 0.1 kW each; Americans now average 10 kW per person.

It's both. The value of 250 watts is well-defined and occasionally referenced in engineering education and humorous technical papers. It never achieved official recognition from any standards body, but it has appeared in legitimate engineering textbooks as a pedagogical tool. The unit highlights a genuine gap in the power scale — many household devices and human activities fall in the 50–500 W range where fractional horsepower feels awkward. "Two donkeypower" sounds better than "0.67 horsepower."

A real donkey can sustain about 125–200 watts (0.5–0.8 dp) of useful mechanical work over a full day, and briefly peak at 750–1,500 W (3–6 dp) during a short burst. So the unit slightly overestimates a donkey's sustained output — much like horsepower overestimates a horse. A working donkey in a developing country might turn a water pump or grain mill for 6–8 hours, delivering roughly 0.5–0.7 dp of sustained useful work.

A desktop computer (200–300 W), a bread toaster on low setting (250 W), a box fan on high (200–250 W), a sewing machine motor (250 W), and a human cycling at a moderate sustainable pace (200–250 W). It's a delightfully human-scale unit — roughly the sustained mechanical output of one fit person, or the electrical draw of one modest appliance. Your entire body at rest produces about 0.35 donkeypower of heat.

There's "manpower" (about 75 W sustained, or 0.3 dp), which was used in ancient and medieval engineering for human-powered machines like treadwheels and capstans. "Oxpower" appears in some agricultural texts at roughly 500 W (2 dp). None are standardized. Some engineers have jokingly proposed "hamster power" (~0.5 W, so 0.002 dp) and "ant power" (~10⁻⁵ W). The zoo of animal power units perfectly illustrates why SI standardisation was necessary.

It would actually make more sense for many applications. A blender at "3/4 horsepower" sounds industrial; "2 donkeypower" is more honest and relatable. A hand mixer at "1/8 hp" is awkwardly fractional; "1/3 donkeypower" is cleaner. But the ship has sailed — horsepower (and watts) are too entrenched. Donkeypower's true legacy is as a beloved teaching tool and pub quiz answer. It reminds engineers that units are human inventions, not laws of nature.