Wikipedia Deep Dive

Methanol fuel

11 min read

The Invisible Inferno

On May 30, 1964, two drivers died at the Indianapolis 500 in a seven-car crash that would change racing forever. Eddie Sachs and Dave MacDonald's gasoline-fueled cars exploded on the second lap, creating a cloud of thick black smoke so dense that approaching drivers couldn't see the track ahead. But there was another car in that wreck—Johnny Rutherford's—and it ran on methanol. His car burned too, struck by the initial fireball. But it burned invisibly, with no smoke, forming a much smaller fire that let rescue crews and other drivers navigate the chaos.

That crash pushed American open-wheel racing to make a radical decision. The following year, pure methanol became mandatory at Indianapolis.

This is the strange paradox of methanol as a fuel: it burns without a visible flame in daylight, which sounds terrifying until you realize that gasoline fires create exactly the kind of opaque, disorienting smoke that kills people who might otherwise escape. A methanol fire can be extinguished with plain water. Try that with burning gasoline and you'll make things worse.

What Methanol Actually Is

Methanol is the simplest alcohol that exists. Its chemical formula is CH₃OH—just one carbon atom bonded to three hydrogen atoms and a hydroxyl group. If you've heard of ethanol, the alcohol in beer and wine, methanol is its smaller, more toxic cousin. Where ethanol has two carbon atoms, methanol has one.

This simplicity matters.

Because methanol is such a straightforward molecule, it can be manufactured from almost anything containing carbon. Natural gas. Coal. Wood. Agricultural waste. Even carbon dioxide pulled directly from the air, if you have enough hydrogen and energy to spare. This flexibility makes methanol one of the most versatile fuels humans have ever discovered.

The trouble is that most methanol today—roughly 60 percent of global production—comes from China, and China makes it primarily from coal. The rest of the world mostly uses natural gas. Neither source helps with climate change. But the same chemical can be made from renewable sources, and when it is, we call it biomethanol or green methanol. The chemistry is identical; only the feedstock differs.

The Energy Trade-Off

Here's where methanol gets complicated. It contains significantly less energy than gasoline—about half as much per kilogram. If you fill a tank with methanol instead of gasoline, you'll travel roughly half as far before refueling.

Why would anyone accept that trade-off?

Because energy density isn't everything. Methanol has an octane rating of 114, far higher than premium gasoline at around 93. Octane measures a fuel's resistance to premature detonation—that knocking sound an engine makes when fuel ignites at the wrong moment. Higher octane means an engine can use higher compression ratios, extracting more mechanical work from each combustion cycle. In engines specifically designed for methanol, this partially compensates for the lower energy content.

Methanol also burns cooler than gasoline, which reduces the formation of nitrogen oxides—one of the primary pollutants in car exhaust. And it naturally prevents the buildup of grime and deposits inside engines because it acts as a solvent.

The downsides? Cold starts become difficult because methanol doesn't vaporize as readily in low temperatures. The fuel absorbs water from humid air, which can dilute its energy content and cause problems in gasoline-methanol blends. And methanol is corrosive, particularly to aluminum. It attacks the protective oxide layer that normally shields aluminum from degradation, essentially eating through engine components unless manufacturers use methanol-compatible materials or add corrosion inhibitors.

Racing's Unlikely Champion

Despite these challenges, methanol found its home in motorsports. The 1964 Indianapolis tragedy accelerated its adoption, but the fuel had been used in European Grand Prix racing as far back as the 1930s, when mechanics mixed it with acetone, nitrobenzene, and ether to create high-octane blends. The Standard Oil Company of New Jersey even commercially produced one such mixture containing 86 percent methanol.

Today, pure methanol is mandatory in Monster Trucks, United States Auto Club sprint cars and midgets, World of Outlaws racing, and motorcycle speedway. The Championship Auto Racing Teams circuit ran on methanol for its entire 28-year existence from 1979 to 2007. Drag racing uses it extensively, particularly in the Top Alcohol category, where cars can also mix 10 to 20 percent methanol with nitromethane for extra power.

The reasons go beyond safety. Methanol's high octane rating lets racing engines achieve compression ratios that would destroy a gasoline engine. It burns more completely, producing fewer harmful emissions in the pit area. And in drag racing and mud racing, mixing methanol with gasoline and nitrous oxide produces more power than gasoline and nitrous oxide alone.

Formula One remains a holdout, still using gasoline. But that's more tradition than necessity—prewar Grand Prix racing commonly used methanol-based fuels.

The Smallest Engines in the World

While race cars grabbed headlines, methanol quietly became essential to a completely different community: model aircraft enthusiasts.

Before World War II, model airplane engines ran on a mixture of white gas and motor oil. They needed onboard batteries, ignition coils, and spark plugs—heavy components for a toy airplane. Then in 1948, someone invented the glow plug engine, and everything changed.

A glow plug contains a coiled platinum filament. When methanol vapor contacts this platinum, a catalytic reaction occurs—the platinum triggers combustion without requiring an electrical spark. This meant model engines no longer needed batteries or ignition systems. The weight savings transformed what model aircraft could do.

Today, methanol-fueled glow engines power radio-controlled aircraft ranging from tiny 0.8 cubic centimeter units to massive multi-cylinder radial engines. The fuel typically contains castor oil as a lubricant, mixed at roughly a 4:1 ratio with methanol. Some engines, particularly those made in North America, run best with nitromethane added to the mix—anywhere from 5 percent to 30 percent of the total volume.

International competition governed by the Fédération Aéronautique Internationale often requires pure methanol fuel without nitromethane additives, keeping the playing field level across countries.

Ships on the Horizon

The maritime industry has noticed methanol, and its interest is accelerating rapidly.

Container ships currently burn bunker fuel—a thick, tar-like residue left over from petroleum refining. It's cheap and energy-dense, but it's also one of the dirtiest fuels in commercial use. A single large container ship can emit as much sulfur dioxide as 50 million cars. The shipping industry produces roughly 3 percent of global greenhouse gas emissions, comparable to the entire aviation sector.

In 2020, the International Maritime Organization—the United Nations agency responsible for shipping—formally codified rules for using methanol as a marine fuel. By 2023, roughly 100 methanol-burning ships had been ordered by major players including Maersk, COSCO Shipping, and CMA CGM.

Most of these vessels use dual-fuel engines that can burn either bunker fuel or methanol, providing flexibility as green methanol production scales up. Maersk alone has ordered 19 methanol-capable ships and signed agreements with green methanol producers across multiple countries to supply the million tons of fuel needed to run them.

The Laura Maersk, launched in 2023, became the first container ship to run on methanol fuel—a milestone for an industry that moves 90 percent of global trade.

The United Arab Emirates is even investing in green methanol refueling stations in Egypt, positioned to serve ships transiting the Suez Canal.

The Green Methanol Promise

Here's where methanol becomes genuinely interesting for climate change.

Green methanol is made by combining carbon dioxide with hydrogen. The carbon dioxide can come from industrial emissions, biomass processing, or eventually direct air capture. The hydrogen comes from splitting water using electricity—ideally from wind, solar, or nuclear power. When these inputs are renewable, the resulting methanol is effectively carbon-neutral: burning it releases the same carbon dioxide that was captured to make it.

This creates an intriguing possibility. Ethanol plants in the American Midwest—in Iowa, Minnesota, and Illinois—already produce highly concentrated streams of carbon dioxide as a byproduct of fermentation. These same states have abundant wind power and, in Illinois's case, significant nuclear capacity. Combine that clean electricity with captured fermentation CO₂, and you have the ingredients for green methanol production at scale.

Methanol also offers a practical way to store hydrogen. Pure hydrogen is notoriously difficult to handle—it must be compressed to enormous pressures or cooled to minus 253 degrees Celsius to remain liquid. Methanol, by contrast, stays liquid at room temperature and atmospheric pressure. You can store it in ordinary tanks, pump it through ordinary pipes, and ship it on ordinary tankers. When you need the hydrogen back, you can extract it through a process called reforming.

The efficiency isn't perfect. If green hydrogen production runs at 70 percent efficiency, and converting that hydrogen to methanol runs at another 70 percent, you end up with about 49 percent of the original energy—roughly half. But half of something storable and transportable often beats 100 percent of something you can't move or keep.

The Challenges Ahead

Green methanol currently costs nearly twice as much as bunker fuel. Retrofitting an oil barge to run on methanol costs approximately $1.6 million. And fossil-derived methanol—still the vast majority of global production—actually increases lifecycle greenhouse gas emissions compared to simply burning the natural gas or coal directly.

The industry faces a classic chicken-and-egg problem. Ships won't switch to methanol without reliable fuel supplies. Producers won't build green methanol plants without guaranteed demand from ships. Someone has to move first.

Maersk is betting that their ship orders will pull production along. Others in the industry speculate that supply could grow naturally as orders continue. But the timeline remains uncertain, and the economics are challenging.

Cooking With Chemistry

Far from container ships and racetracks, methanol serves a humbler purpose: cooking fuel.

In China, methanol stoves have become common. The fuel requires no regulators or pipes—just a simple stove and a canister. In India, adoption is growing. For households without access to natural gas pipelines or reliable electricity, methanol offers a clean-burning alternative to wood, charcoal, or kerosene.

Methanol also powers fuel cells, devices that convert chemical energy directly into electricity without combustion. Direct Methanol Fuel Cells and Reformed Methanol Fuel Cells find use in backup power systems, auxiliary power units for vehicles and ships, and range extenders for electric vehicles. Unlike batteries, fuel cells can be refueled instantly—pour in more methanol and keep going.

The Poison Question

Methanol is toxic. This fact cannot be glossed over.

The human body actually produces small amounts of methanol naturally, and we encounter trace amounts in certain foods and artificial sweeteners. In tiny doses, our metabolism handles it. But larger quantities overwhelm the body's defenses. The liver converts methanol into formaldehyde, then formic acid. Formic acid attacks the optic nerve.

Ingesting as little as 3.16 grams of methanol can cause permanent blindness. The lethal oral dose for humans is estimated at around 56 grams—roughly two fluid ounces. During Prohibition, thousands of Americans died or went blind from drinking wood alcohol, as methanol was commonly called.

Gasoline, by comparison, is also toxic—it's a known carcinogen—but it doesn't cause blindness from small exposures. This difference matters for any fuel that humans might accidentally ingest or spill on their skin.

The flip side is that methanol biodegrades more readily than gasoline. Spill gasoline into soil or water, and complex hydrocarbons persist for years. Methanol breaks down relatively quickly. It's also water-soluble, which cuts both ways—easier to clean up, but also easier to spread through groundwater.

The Methanol Economy

In 2005, chemist George Olah—who won the Nobel Prize for his work on carbocations—proposed something radical: a "methanol economy." His idea was to use methanol as a universal energy carrier, the way hydrogen enthusiasts proposed a "hydrogen economy."

Olah argued that methanol had practical advantages over hydrogen. It's liquid at room temperature. Existing infrastructure—pipelines, tankers, storage tanks—can handle it with modest modifications. It can be made from any carbon source, including carbon dioxide pulled from the air. And it can power everything from cars to ships to fuel cells to cooking stoves.

The methanol economy hasn't arrived. But elements of Olah's vision are emerging. Racing demonstrated methanol's viability for decades. Shipping is now adopting it. Green methanol production is scaling up. The chemistry works; the question is whether economics and infrastructure will follow.

The Invisible Flame Revisited

Return to that invisible flame—the one that burned Johnny Rutherford's car at Indianapolis in 1964.

There's something profound in the image. Methanol burns so cleanly that you can't see it happening. No soot, no smoke, no dramatic orange tongues of flame. Just heat and light invisible in daylight. Rescue workers learned to throw straw or paper toward suspected methanol fires to see if something invisible was burning.

Mixing methanol with ethanol solves this problem—ethanol burns with a visible yellow flame. It's a simple fix for a strange hazard.

But that invisible combustion captures something essential about methanol's nature. It's a fuel that does its work without drama, without the visual spectacle we associate with fire. It's simpler than gasoline, cleaner than bunker fuel, more practical than hydrogen. It's been around for decades, quietly powering race cars and model airplanes, waiting for the world to notice.

The shipping industry has finally noticed. Whether the rest of the world follows may determine how we fuel transportation in a warming world.