We need to minimize the negative impact we have on the planet. However, our recent adoption of green technologies to minimize damage to the environment has already led to unexpected and often unmentioned ecological destruction. Is this just the price we have to pay?
Note: This article originally appeared in the print issue of Return.
From an archaeologist’s perspective, technology is a neutral term. From flint hatchets to sickles, antler harpoons to fish traps, early forms of technology harness efficiency and power at the interface of humans with the rest of the world. There is nothing unnatural about this. Crows, otters, monkeys, and even crocodiles make use of manipulated objects to exploit their food niches. If we have concerns about how modern technology works, we should not view it as a binary of ‘good’ and ‘bad’, but rather focus on the specific problems it creates. Importantly for today’s academic world, all discussions of technology are too often framed in terms of “neoliberalism” and “systems thinking.”
The question before us is: Will we destroy unique and important marine ecosystems to fuel the Green Revolution?
Some may talk about the Anthropocene, barely containing their glee at the control that such a definition brings. What I want to do here is outline the specific and non-systemic threats that certain technologies pose. It is my contention that only by approaching risks to the natural world in this way can we actually retain the ability to deal with them. Beyond the vague contours of international agreements and vague promises lie the bulwarks of nation-states and their capabilities. Don’t be shy about demanding that you take advantage of them.
Seabed mining: polymetallic nodules
The new green revolution and its effects are tsunami-like across the world. One of its most cunning children is “net zero” mining. To be absolutely clear, a new green techno-complex consisting of vast new infrastructure of electric vehicles, wind and solar energy, and the batteries needed to support them will require an unprecedented amount of is precariously dependent on the industry’s ability to extract raw minerals. According to the World Bank’s 2020 report Minerals for Climate Change, increased mineral production will be driven by demand for lithium by 488%, cobalt by 460%, indium by 231%, and vanadium by a staggering 189%. Contains an increase.
For the UK to meet its electric vehicle targets, it is predicted that it will need to produce neodymium, which is around double the current global production of cobalt, and three-quarters of the world’s lithium production. The two main producing countries for nickel, cobalt, manganese and copper are China and the Democratic Republic of the Congo, and the race to find alternative mining sites has begun. European nickel mines are an option, but the most attractive option is the potential for seabed mining.
Back in the most distant past, Earth’s ocean waters slowly began to precipitate heavy metals. Manganese and iron oxyhydroxides began to capture cobalt, copper, and nickel cations released by the action of submarine hydrothermal vents and the invisible metabolism of microorganisms, and over millions of years became established as polymetallic nodules. Did. But why is this important?
These chunks are scattered across the ocean floor, most of them no bigger than duck eggs, and are Mother Nature’s gift to a metal-hungry civilization. The 4.5 million square kilometer Clipperton Fracture Zone, rich in manganese nodules, is just one prime example of the embarrassment of untapped wealth. The world has realized that it is time to extract these treasure troves, and companies everywhere from Nauru to Mexico are applying for exploration licenses. Specialized ocean vessels equipped with submarines are currently pioneering the extraction, suction, grinding, harvesting and crushing of nodules before sending the metal to the surface. You can hear the question, “What’s wrong?” “Do you really need this?”
The problem is that these nodules are not barren spheres of free resources, like the world of computer games. In fact, they are the foundational keystones of complex food webs, and are rarely glimpsed by the few studies that focus on them. Here’s what we know: The nodule itself is covered with organisms, with stalked vitreous spongiosa being thought to be an important structural species. The trophic webs present in these deep-sea zones rely on nodules as the only physical structural support to anchor, and soft sediments are unable to support these species.
The cascading effects of nodulation flow upward to sediments, filter feeders, scavengers, omnivores, and carnivores. Equally devastating is the plume of fine sediment produced by harvesters and the dumping of waste after extraction. These clouds suffocate and kill species, suffocating fragile coral reef life. Added to these known factors are unknown risks. A 2016 study of the Clipperton Fracture Zone found that half of all species collected were new to science. Even more dangerous (and ironic) is the possibility that frozen methane deposits known as methane clathrates could be accidentally disturbed, releasing unknown amounts of natural gas into the ocean or atmosphere.
The question before us is: Will we destroy unique and important marine ecosystems to fuel the Green Revolution? The cost-benefit analysis here must consider what this revolution will actually bring and whether it is desirable. It is unlikely that all the metal in the ocean will remain unused, and no amount of international pressure will stop countries like China from exploiting their coastlines. But we don’t all have to rush to charge into a battery-powered world. There are alternatives.
Dune avulsion: sand extraction
Tim Graham via Getty Images
On the list of conversation topics for curing insomnia, sand should be near the top. However, this basic and seemingly ubiquitous material is rapidly becoming a coveted resource. How is this possible? Sand is needed in many basic industries, including construction, road building, electronics, plastics, cosmetics, detergents, and water filtration. Unfortunately, this is also essential in the production of solar panels, but is not often mentioned. Due to the nature of its particles, desert sand is virtually worthless as it is too fine to bind together. For this reason, rivers, lakes, and accessible oceans are the main targets for sand extraction and mining. At first glance, this seems reasonable. But he has two big problems here. First, the amount of sand available worldwide is decreasing faster than it can be replenished. Second is the damage caused to the environment, ecosystems, and human settlements around the mining area.
Sand mining accounts for 85% of the world’s total mineral production by weight. Approximately 32 billion to 50 billion tons of sand are used per year, and according to some models, demand will outstrip supply before the end of this century. Virtually all countries import sand, with major exporters such as China and the United States shipping 300 million tonnes in 2019. However, these numbers are notoriously unreliable. Probably the largest supplier. As an example, between 2006 and 2016, Singapore imported 80 million tonnes of its sand from Cambodia, of which only 4% went through legal export routes. Singapore is in dire need of sand for land reclamation and skyscraper construction, and neighboring countries are scavenging billions of tons of sand for illegal export, so much so that Indonesia is physically unable to do so. More than 20 islands have been lost and another 80 are at risk.
Ecologically, large-scale sand mining poses many problems. These include lowering water tables, drying up wells, physically destroying habitats, changing the shape and flow of rivers, disrupting food webs, creating riverbank instability, collapsing bridges, and changing the speed of river flow. . This can cause flooding and property damage, as well as salt leaching onto farmland. Dune removal can cause flooding, and dust plumes increase radioactivity in the air, which can pose a health risk. The standard method for sand extraction is dredging at different scales and in different ways. From the Nigerians who physically wade through the waves and carry baskets of sand on their heads, to the Tamil truck drivers who park on tourist beaches and use plows to load their bags, to the conveyor belts and The nature of the work varies depending on the situation, ranging from huge Chinese merchant ships with barges. The country and its legality. At the risk of repeating an earlier point, sand mining clearly has immediate and long-term impacts on the region’s ecosystem. The physical removal of beaches, dunes, sandbars, and riverbeds disables the ability of dependent wildlife and plants to survive, but another consequence is the spillover into violence in the human world.
Illegal sand mining seems like one of those minor headline topics, but the scale of the organization is far beyond most people’s comprehension. Unauthorized sand mining is a major criminal activity in India, especially in the southern state of Tamil Nadu. The Yangtze River has been a target of illegal mining in China for decades, after the state banned mining in 2000. In 2019 alone, police seized more than 300 vessels carrying around 100 million cubic feet of sand. But the theft continues, due in part to sophisticated GPS spoofing, which prevents authorities from accurately monitoring vessel movements in real time, leading to deadly collisions.
Thane Creek, the river’s entrance to Mumbai from the Arabian Sea, is crowded with hundreds of small wooden boats illegally scooping up sand from the riverbed by hand. Divers used to dive as deep as 20 feet. After a few years, they reach their physical limit of 40 feet. The riverbed will soon disappear. Like many similar illegal mines and dredging sites in India, they are run by mafias with the power to bribe local officials and kill journalists and protesters. On a larger geopolitical level, tensions between Singapore and Indonesia/Malaysia have reached the point where the Indonesian Navy has been sent to arrest illegal sand miners in the territory.
