Reduce, Reuse, Recycle - Who Cares?

Let's be honest, sometimes there's nothing more annoying than carrying around a plastic food bin leaking spaghetti sauce inside your already stuffed backpack.

So, what's the harm in throwing it into your nearest trash can? Or just leaving it next to a bench in the park or on the ocean-side boardwalk? The problem is gone.

Or so it appears.

In the meantime, places around the world are becoming plastic garbage dumps. According to Charles Moore, an American oceanographer, there are about 100 million tons of plastic garbage circulating in the middle of the Pacific Ocean known as the "Great Pacific Garbage Patch". The patch is filled with an assortment of durable plastic items such as water bottles, toys, and other debris.

Plastic debris items such as these might seem relatively harmless at first. However, the U.N. Environment Programme has stated that plastic debris in the world's oceans are responsible for the death of approximately 100,000 marine mammals and more than 1 million seabirds every year.

Charles Moore also warns that over the next 10 years, this toxic “plastic stew” will double in size unless consumers cut back on their use of disposable plastics.

So, the next time you're debating whether or not to throw out a plastic food container, please consider the following questions: Is this container recyclable? Can I rinse it out and and reuse it? Are there any other available options such as ceramic plates?

Overall, we can all take part in those three famous R's (reduce, reuse, recycle), because every little bit can add up to make a big difference.

Conversing with the Fringe

Have you read The Travels of a Tee Shirt in a Global Economy by Pietra Rivoli? Whether or not you have, you would’ve enjoyed a presentation given by Rivoli on February 24 at Fuqua School of Business. The author, a business professor at Georgetown University, spoke about free trade after following a tee-shirt from the cotton farms in Lubbock, TX, to Shanghai, China, to Washington, DC, to New York, NY, and finally to Tanzania.

While Rivoli doesn't believe free trade is necessarily a good thing, she points out that Americans have tended to view it favorably. In 2002, at the height of the globalization debate, 78% of Americans believed that international trade was very good or somewhat good for the country.

That statistic has dropped, however. More and more Americans believe that international trade is a “story of destruction”, creating systems that breed inequality and perpetuate hardship in developing countries. People struggling to survive will work for unfair wages or under harsh and unhealthy conditions just to get by.

Rivoli claims that the people who view trade unfavorably are both the “fringe” and now mainstream Americans who had previously turned a deaf ear to the problems of international trade. She argues that we should never dismiss “fringe” sentiments because they are one of the best “crystal balls”. They predict the world in 10 years and their ideas, seen as crazy today, will become standard practice. If you need convincing, look at the World Bank and IMF protestors who called attention to the pitfalls of globalization. Or look at the groups who pressured corporations like GAP and NIKE to change their supply chain management. “Fringe” demands are now the norm.

As an environmentalist who has felt like the “fringe” when arguing for the benefits of recycling or green building, I believe that the environmental message is a “crystal ball”. Environmentalists have recently made large strides in pushing some issues, like energy conservation and climate change, to the forefront of the public agenda.

But it seems that these accomplishments have only been possible in the past several years because conservationists have begun talking to diverse groups of people, namely the business community, which has historically rejected pairing economic growth with conservation.

So perhaps Rivoli’s belief in talking with a diverse set of people is actually a two-way street. It takes initiative from both groups, the business community and the “fringe” to tackle important issues. The environmental movement has certainly benefited from doing this.

The Price Appalachia Pays

“Out of sight, out of mind” is why most Americans do not know what mountaintop removal coal mining is or that it is one of our country’s greatest environmental and human rights tragedies.

In order to quickly and easily access the seems of coal in the Appalachian mountains, mining companies first strip away the forests and topsoil, then use explosives-up to 100 times as strong as those used in the Oklahoma City federal building bombing-to blast up to 1,000 feet off of the mountaintops and expose the coal. Anything that isn’t coal, or the “overburden,” is dumped into adjacent valleys, in some places up to a depth of 600 feet. To date, this process has flattened at least a million acres and buried over 1,200 miles of biologically crucial Appalachian springs and creeks.

The environmental and community impacts of mountaintop removal mining are devastating, affecting everything from coalfield employment and flash floods to chemical fumes and “flyrock.” How is this allowed to happen? It’s all about profits. Mountaintop mines recover almost 100% of the coal in the ground and require far fewer workers. Also at fault is a 2002 rule change orchestrated by the Bush Administration.

A court victory was won in 2007 when a federal judge ordered greater environmental review of permits for mountaintop removal in West Virginia. Unfortunately, that decision was just overturned on February 13th by the 4th U.S. Circuit Court of Appeals in Richmond, and the mining companies are ready to go.

As big of a setback as this decision is, there is legislative progress occurring. On the federal level, The Clean Water Protection Act was introduced last year with 153 co-sponsors, and will likely be re-introduced in the 111th Congress. Here in North Carolina, the Appalachian Mountains Preservation Act was just introduced in the house and senate this week. The legislation would phase out state utility purchases of coal from mountaintop removal mines.

Chances are the power you use every day is connected to mountaintop removal mining. Want to be sure? Check out the cool widget on the homepage of iLoveMountains.org’s website. You just enter your zip code and you’ll find out if your utility company is part of the problem. If they are, visit their website and let them know how you feel about this destructive practice.

Why a ‘fart tax’ might be just a load of hot air

In recent months rumors have been circulating that the U.S. Environmental Protection Agency is proposing a ‘fart tax’ for livestock as part of their new plan to curb greenhouse gas emissions. A similar proposal has outraged farmers in both New Zealand and Australia.

Why do we care about such obscure taxes becoming a reality? Is it possible that these 'fart taxes' are just a load of hot air? (See this blog for more)

Many years ago, I was up late watching the news and saw a story about a herd of sheep fitted with contraptions consisting of plastic trousers on their behinds and tubes in their mouths, among other things. It was a hilarious sight and I couldn’t help but wonder why these sheep were hooked up to these pieces of equipment. Not being a complete novice to the science surrounding climate change, the explanation was in fact quite plausible. They were using these devices to measure their methane emissions.

According to this article from the BBC, farting and burping by these farm animals are responsible for:

• 90% of the methane emissions in New Zealand,
• 70% of the methane emissions in Australia, and
• 15% of methane emissions worldwide.

So, you might be wondering why the sudden shift to talking about methane?

• Methane has 21 times the heat-trapping potential of carbon dioxide (EPA).

Why is this important?

In agrarian countries like New Zealand, it is estimated that over half the country’s greenhouse gas emissions can be attributed to the methane emitted by farm animals. This means that something like a ‘fart tax’ on farm animals could, in theory, help NZ meet their Kyoto Protocol targets. But, this is just in theory…

In reality, a ‘fart tax’ would do very little to curb emissions. The actual result of such a tax would be a huge loss in revenue for farmers while the overall emissions in the atmosphere would not be reduced unless farmers cut back on the numbers of sheep, cows, and hogs. Ultimately, we would just see dairy and meat prices rise to meet growing costs. In the current economic climate, adding financial pressure to farmers, especially in NZ whose economy depends on agriculture, does not seem to be the answer to curbing greenhouse gas emissions.

Luckily, the proposal was shot down in Australia, NZ, and the United States --- but not before widespread hysteria erupted among farmers.

Why do we regulate emissions using taxes and permits? To reduce emissions.

That being said, a ‘fart tax’ is not going to get the job done. The gas produced by these animals is a result of natural processes and is not going to be reduced by taxing farmers.

What is the solution then?

Methane gas emissions still need to be regulated and some scientists in Australia are now turning away from the old “plastic trousers” mechanism and are hooking sheep up to gas masks to measure their methane emissions from belching. It is supposedly much more effective and less cumbersome than previous methods --- though I can’t say that it would look any less ridiculous!

Other efforts to reduce methane emissions from farm animals include research on less “gassy” feed– a way to reduce emissions without reducing animal numbers. Or, maybe it is our own diets that need to change; kangaroo anyone?

Costa Rica Revisted

Its now been ten years. Ten years since I last stepped foot on Costa Rican soil. Fresh out of high school and still trying to find my way in life I somehow drifted down to our continental isthmus. Into a world strange but not unkind.

In one week I'll be heading back down to that lush country, and I could not help but reminisce a little. I admit that I was young and naive when I first found myself in Costa Rica, but that only made my experiences more important. In Costa Rica I learned many life lessons: That I had been a sheltered child, a privileged child, and a child that other people would want to rob, and did. I learned that a human cannot out run a bull. That friends need not speak the same language, and are not permanent. And that Central America has an amazing array of cultural and biological diversity.

I learned these things by leaving behind what I had known and embracing difference, by speaking another language, and absorbing some cultural history found in what we eat.

Being young I traveled the rougher paths, and stayed in the cheaper hostels, and sometimes flirted with danger by drinking... tap water. And rather than other Americans joining me in these enterprises my companions were from Denmark or the British Isles, Korea or Japan. Less often did I meet fellow Americans, and less often did I want to.

Most Americans relish comfort, and it is my fear that when Americans travel in too much comfort, in too much familiarity, that they fail at traveling. Because being in another country should be to push your comfort zone, to rub abrasively against a new language and culture, and in doing so learn something about yourself and the world. Cancun is not traveling. Tijuana is not traveling. Acapulco is not traveling. Resorts, comfort, and familiarity are vacations. Americans need more travel.

Americans are poor global citizens, but I think if we can get out there and meet what's across the border that will change. The next time you travel abroad, push those boundaries, knot your tongue around another language, and I promise I'll do the same. So bring on Costa Rica Round 2. After a ten year hiatus there's nothing I could look forward to more.

Choose Both

Would you rather…

You know the game, right? I hate it. But here I am, asking the question. So get ready. Squirm. Giggle. Feel awkward. Be nervous (really nervous). You can do whatever you want, but ultimately, like Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, there is no choice but to play.

Don’t worry. This time the question has nothin’ to do with eating gross things or kissing a hoary librarian. If you were responsible for solving the world's environmental woes would you start at the global scale and work your way down to local communities or would you rather start on the ground and work your way up?

Does the question sound familiar? I hear references to it a lot; its pretty engrained in the conservation community. There are a lot of folks, including myself, who feel pretty strongly one way or the other. But maybe we need to stop thinking about it in such polarized terms. Does the debate really have to be modeled after a game intended to humor forth graders?

Sure, large-scale conservation, touted by TNC et al, certainly has appeal. Who doesn’t want to “preserve the plants, animals and natural communities that represent the diversity of life on Earth by protecting the lands and waters they need to survive”? But the large-scale approach isn't flawless. A lot of resources have been poured into lofty initiatives and reports like the Millennium Goals and the Ocean Blueprint. And the intent is great (amazing actually). But have these visions translated into results? Have they concluded anything that we didn't already know?

On the other end of the spectrum is small-scale, local conservation. Community conservation, at its best, is about empowerment and diversity and creativity. It centers on the conviction that everyone has a role and if we all take ownership, global problems will be resolved. I’ll admit, I’m a sucker for small-scale.

I love the concept of grassroots organizing and the idea that we're in charge of our world. But it’s a bit naïve to ignore the obvious. Small-scale often equates to disorganization, inefficiency, and ineffectiveness. And obviously if we're too focused on small-scale we might outright miss the big picture all together.

So where does that leave us? What would you rather?

A year ago, maybe less, I would have said small-scale is the key. But it's not so black-and-white. Small-scale action is embedded in the large-scale context. They can't be separated, and maybe we shouldn't try. There's no reason we can't choose both.

The China Syndrome: One (or Two) Babies, Please!

Most people are aware of China’s population policy permitting each couple to have only one child in order to control the population explosion.

Recently, Jonathon Porritt, who chairs Great Britain’s Sustainable Development Commission suggested to a London Newspaper, “Curbing population growth through contraception and abortion must be at the heart of policies to fight global warming and green campaigners should stop dodging the issue of environmental harm caused by an expanding population.” Porritt also mentioned that he thinks we will work our way towards a position that says having more than two children is irresponsible.

Without a doubt, the contemporary clash of worldviews regarding children, contraception, abortion, and now the environment comes quickly to mind.

Albert Mohler, a conservative, Christain radio talk-show host reacted to Porritt saying, “Christians must be reminded that we do bear responsibility as stewards of God's creation. But we cannot be faithful in that stewardship if we adopt the logic of the Culture of Death. Human beings cannot be reduced to any cold economic or ecological value. Each human being is made in God's image, and each can be part of the fulfillment of our stewardship.”

As a religious conservative, I do not support the idea of including abortion as a population tool in any kind of policy. I also understand the crudeness of putting an economical or ecological value on a life. However, before all of my conservative counterparts quickly agree with Mohler’s statement, I’d like to take this opportunity to raise some valid points about population. A real concern does exist over the relationship between population growth and resource depletion. When we talk about population’s effect on the environment, we are not necessarily talking about the birds and the trees and the abstract environment. We are mostly referring to the environmental resources that our lives depend on every day, like clean water and clean air.

Just like we learned in high school biology, the supportable population of an organism, given the available food, habitat, and water within an environment is known as the carrying capacity for that organism. For the human population, more complex variables such as sanitation and medical care are sometimes considered as part of the necessary infrastructure. If the carrying capacity is exceeded, the quality of life for the entire population will decline. If our population continues to grow at our current rate, we will have a hard time coming up with the natural resources our lives depend on. We may not feel it in the United States the way other developing countries will (and already do.)

In Great Britain, the country at issue in Proitt's remarks, population density is the issue. Increased population density puts added stress on infrastructure such as sewers and water distribution systems. While the world may not need regulated family planning, people should be mindful of their consumption and realize that our resources are not endless. Some will argue that by considering population limits, economic prosperity and a high standard of living are being valued more than life. This argument is crude because most people want to avoid putting a monetary or physical value on a life, but the truth is, exploding populations will create for those on the margins of society (most commonly the rural poor) a decrease in standard of living so severe that it actually threatens the standards which are necessary to live.

Goats are on the Front Lines in the Battle Against Invasive Plants

A particularly rampant invasive plant species in the southern U.S. is Kudzu (Pueraria montana), a vine introduced from Asia and widely planted to combat soil erosion. Unfortunately, it now covers 7 million acres and has buried native vegetation under a thick coat of vines, choking off much-needed sunlight.

So what’s the newest way people are combating the spread of Kudzu?

The answer: Goats.

Goat herds have been brought in to eat the pesky kudzu in several southern states, including Tennessee, North Carolina, and Georgia. In addition to removing the vine without the cost or risk of pesticides, the goats will eventually help fulfill the growing demand for goat meat. The profitability of the enterprise has even led a former Wall Street businessman to make goat farming a fulltime job.

Of course he wasn’t the only one to recognize the business potential here; even in the Triangle area you can hire a goat herd to take care of the weed problem in your backyard.

It isn’t often that the solution to a serious environmental threat is such a win-win situation. And it begs the question: Are there other creative, beneficial solutions to environmental problems out there just waiting to be discovered?

This is the kind of out-of-the-box thinking that breeds new innovation in science. Rather than trying to fully eradicate invasives, perhaps we should work to identify their benefits and then exploit them. In fact, fostering this kind of entrepreneurial thinking may the best way to deal with many of our biggest environmental challenges.

How do we reach the people who have been mauled by shrews?

Ever stepped on a yellow jacket nest? You should try it!

No, really, you shouldn't. For your convenience, I present the things you should avoid in bold (excepting, of course, the word "bold").

Yellow jackets love to build their nests in forest detritus, such as leaf piles and rotten logs (so watch it). They are incredibly touchy, getting upset over the least little things, like a human coming along and flattening their home.

My story:

A friend and I had decided to do some trailblazing on a fine summer day. We started at a rocky bluff (see picture) and moved downhill. It was a hot day on a steep slope.

I stopped to catch my breath and admire the view. I would have taken a picture of said view had I not stopped to catch my breath whilst standing on a yellow jacket nest.

Having already experienced a yellow jacket swarm once before, I wanted to curl up in a ball and weep uncontrollably (no bold; weeping is perfectly acceptable).

Fortunately, adrenaline kicked in. I became strangely calm, almost detached from the situation. That lasted for almost a full second before the first sting came. Then I started shrieking.

My friend and I enjoyed a frantic scramble back up the steep slope, in the hot Pennsylvania summer, getting repeatedly stung by irate yellow jackets.

They chased us a good half mile. My friend made out alright with only 6 stings. I had 15. I still occasionally have nightmares about that day.

So, here's a question: what do we do with people who are legitimately afraid of nature because, say, they were once attacked by badgers, and so they wouldn't mind seeing a few more acres of forest get bulldozed? Has anyone had an experience in nature that was so awful that they won't ever go back? What do we do with them?

I loved hiking too much to give it up after the attack, but I never go trailblazing anymore except in the dead of winter. So we might start with gentle coaxing. Take the traumatized person for a walk along a well-maintained trail in a busy park where the risk of badger attacks remains low. Choose a trail that includes a waterfall or something equally spectacular. Try to slowly rekindle the capacity in that person to love nature.

Either that or get them right back into the saddle by dropping them out of a helicopter in front of a buffalo stampede (the "sink or swim" method).