For the fourth year in a row, I am headed to the United Nations conference on climate change with a small delegation from Moravian College. We will be blogging, and to kick off COP18, I have posted the first entry for 2012:
Tuesday, November 20, 2012
Monday, October 1, 2012
What is the value of raptors?
I have been thinking a lot about birds lately,
in part because of the impact that environmental changes may have on these
creatures, in part because we are in the midst of fall migration, and in part,
by a quote that I recently read:
"The legacy of Rachel Carson is that tens of millions of human lives – mostly children in poor, tropical countries – have been traded for the possibility of slightly improved fertility in raptors. This remains one of the monumental human tragedies of the last century."
You can find the reference in a blog post I wrote in commemoration of the 50th anniversary of the publication of Silent Spring:
This quote has been
haunting me and thus, I am reaching out to a broad audience to get a range of thoughts for an
article I am thinking of writing:
Please post your
thoughts on the question of what value raptors have in our world or in our lives.
Thursday, September 27, 2012
On the 50th anniversary of the publication of Silent Spring –
Still searching for the truth and a better way
Today marks the 50th anniversary of the publication of Silent Spring – a book that begins with a simple fable and takes its title from a line by the 19th century English Romantic poet, John Keats. The author of this now notorious book was a girl from Springdale, PA in Allegheny County, which has the distinction of ranking in the 90+ percentile for the dirtiest or worst counties in the country for eight different air pollutant measures. For the other six measures, it only ranks in the 60th to 80th percentile for worst counties.
Rachel Carson, who was writing creative stories in grade school, chose instead to pursue higher education in science, graduating with honors in biology from what is now known as Chatham College, and going on to earn a master’s degree in Zoology from John Hopkins University. She was the first woman to take and pass the civil service test, and was subsequently hired in 1936 by the Bureau of Fisheries. Eventually, she would become both the chief editor of all publications for the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service as well as the author of several popular books enjoyed by the public.
When Silent Spring was published in 1962, I wasn’t yet three years old, so didn’t encounter the book until much later. In fact, I hadn’t even read it until a few years ago, although I knew of its key messages. I now live in an area filled with raptor fanatics – hawk watchers and counters. These folks are quick to tell stories of the decline of raptors decades ago, especially of ospreys and eagles, and how some of the fall migration count data from “the Ridge” helped to support the case that DDT might be leading to this decline. Indeed, Rachel Carson spent time at Hawk Mountain – just down the Appalachian Ridge from where I live. In her chapter “And No Birds Sing”, Carson speaks of Maurice Brown and Hawk Mountain, and the sharp decline of immature Bald Eagles noted in the 1950’s. Early in my career, I worked at the same institution as the biologist, Larry Rymon, who was instrumental in successfully reintroducing Osprey to the region. [1] Today, we examine birding records to see if the timing of migration is potentially being impacted by changes in climate, especially the earlier advance of spring in the northern latitudes.
A few years ago, some students majoring in environmental studies asked if I would lead a reading group related to environmental literature. This was an odd request, largely because I am a biochemist by training. Over the years, my scholarship has shifted from bench science to ecological restoration, conservation, and climate change. For fun, I immerse myself in nature, environmental, and conservation writings. But, by no means am I qualified to teach literature.
Just because you have read a book, doesn’t mean you know the entire story. Our small reading group became familiar with the messages of Thoreau, Muir, and Leopold, and then moved on to some work by Carson. I decided to ask the students to investigate the impact that Silent Spring had had on the environmental movement, on environmental legislation, or on the voice of women in activism. Little did I know the deep impact this exploration would end up having on me.
I include below two excerpts to give you the essence of what was printed. The first:
RIP Rachel. I wish I had your conviction and your courage.
Still searching for the truth and a better way
 |
| Golden Eagle Migrating over the Kittatinny Ridge in Pennsylvania Photo by Corey Husic |
Today marks the 50th anniversary of the publication of Silent Spring – a book that begins with a simple fable and takes its title from a line by the 19th century English Romantic poet, John Keats. The author of this now notorious book was a girl from Springdale, PA in Allegheny County, which has the distinction of ranking in the 90+ percentile for the dirtiest or worst counties in the country for eight different air pollutant measures. For the other six measures, it only ranks in the 60th to 80th percentile for worst counties.
Rachel Carson, who was writing creative stories in grade school, chose instead to pursue higher education in science, graduating with honors in biology from what is now known as Chatham College, and going on to earn a master’s degree in Zoology from John Hopkins University. She was the first woman to take and pass the civil service test, and was subsequently hired in 1936 by the Bureau of Fisheries. Eventually, she would become both the chief editor of all publications for the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service as well as the author of several popular books enjoyed by the public.
When Silent Spring was published in 1962, I wasn’t yet three years old, so didn’t encounter the book until much later. In fact, I hadn’t even read it until a few years ago, although I knew of its key messages. I now live in an area filled with raptor fanatics – hawk watchers and counters. These folks are quick to tell stories of the decline of raptors decades ago, especially of ospreys and eagles, and how some of the fall migration count data from “the Ridge” helped to support the case that DDT might be leading to this decline. Indeed, Rachel Carson spent time at Hawk Mountain – just down the Appalachian Ridge from where I live. In her chapter “And No Birds Sing”, Carson speaks of Maurice Brown and Hawk Mountain, and the sharp decline of immature Bald Eagles noted in the 1950’s. Early in my career, I worked at the same institution as the biologist, Larry Rymon, who was instrumental in successfully reintroducing Osprey to the region. [1] Today, we examine birding records to see if the timing of migration is potentially being impacted by changes in climate, especially the earlier advance of spring in the northern latitudes.
A few years ago, some students majoring in environmental studies asked if I would lead a reading group related to environmental literature. This was an odd request, largely because I am a biochemist by training. Over the years, my scholarship has shifted from bench science to ecological restoration, conservation, and climate change. For fun, I immerse myself in nature, environmental, and conservation writings. But, by no means am I qualified to teach literature.
Just because you have read a book, doesn’t mean you know the entire story. Our small reading group became familiar with the messages of Thoreau, Muir, and Leopold, and then moved on to some work by Carson. I decided to ask the students to investigate the impact that Silent Spring had had on the environmental movement, on environmental legislation, or on the voice of women in activism. Little did I know the deep impact this exploration would end up having on me.
Given that I
had been trained in a predominantly chemistry-based education track and, for a
few years did some research in chemical carcinogenesis, for my part in this
assignment, I decided to explore the reaction of the chemical industry to the
publication of the book. To say I was
shocked is an understatement. Not that I
would expect the chemical industry to be happy about a book (especially one written
by a scientist) that took aim at chemical products. But what I didn’t expect was the vitriolic
nature of the criticism that targeted not only the message, but also the
messenger.
A rather negative
(scathing, actually) review of book entitled “Silence, Miss Carson” was
published in the magazine Chemical &
Engineering News (C&E News), a publication of the American Chemical
Society. The review was written by Dr.
William J. Darby whose credentials were touted at the beginning of the review[2]:
Dr. Darby is
professor and chairman of the department of biochemistry and director, division
of nutrition, at Vanderbilt University school of medicine; member and past
chairman of the Food Protection Committee, National Academy of Sciences-National
Research Council' and a member of the NAS-NRC Food and Nutrition Board.
I include below two excerpts to give you the essence of what was printed. The first:
Miss Carson's book adds no new factual
material not already known to such serious scientists as those concerned with
these developments, nor does it include information essential for the reader to
interpret the knowledge. It does confuse the information and so mix it with her
opinions that the uninitiated reader is unable to sort fact from fancy. In view
of the mature, responsible attention which this whole subject receives from
able, qualified scientific groups, such as those identified in the foregoing
(and whom Miss Carson chooses to ignore); in view of her scientific
qualifications in contrast to those of our distinguished scientific leaders and
statesmen, this book should be ignored.
Darby latter
interestingly states:
The responsible scientist
should read this book to understand the ignorance of those writing on the
subject and the educational task which lies ahead.
Robert H.
White-Stevens, biochemist and assistant director of the Agricultural Research
Division of American Cyanamid referred to Carson as "a fanatic defender of
the cult of the balance of nature" and stated that
If man were to follow the teachings
of Miss Carson, we would return to the Dark Ages, and the insects and diseases
and vermin would once again inherit the earth.
Well, clearly, those in biochemistry who came before me didn’t
think too highly of her book. But criticism
came from many other sources including Norman E. Borlaug,
a Nobel laureate for his work contributing to the Green Revolution in
agriculture, and the Entomological Society of America[3]:
ON THE EDGE
Says
a lady who writes of the sea
“I’ve
espoused a new cause—DDT.
It’s
sprayed all around us
By
those pest control bounders,
And
threatens my bonnet’s pet bee”
—Hector
Monro (1963)
Bulletin
of the
Entomological
Society of America,
1963.
9(1): 2
Despite
significant amounts of scientific research that now supports much of Carson’s
claims and the speculation and proposed research directions she set forth in
her book, the criticism continues. In 2007, Rudy Baum, editor
of C&E News wrote[4]:
May 27 marked the 100th
anniversary of Carson's birth. In the run-up to the date, Sen. Benjamin L.
Cardin (D-Md.) had planned to introduce a resolution celebrating Carson's
legacy. However, Sen. Tom Coburn (R-Okla.) announced that he would block the
resolution by the use of a parliamentary device, because, according to a
statement from his office, "Carson was the author of the now-debunked 'Silent Spring,' a book
that was the catalyst in the deadly worldwide stigmatization against
insecticides, especially DDT." As a result, Cardin delayed introducing the
resolution [emphasis
added].
As someone
who does a lot of work in the field of climate change science and policy, the
“now-debunked” phrase rings an all too familiar, but unpleasant, bell. Not only have some individuals labeled Carson as
a “hysterical woman” (if you know the history of the word hysterical, you know
why I bristle at this phrase) who wrote one of the “most harmful books of the
19th and 20th centuries”, [5]
but there are also those who claim that she has been responsible
for millions of deaths. [6] In “Silent Spring at 50: Reflections
on an Environmental Classic,” (published this year) authors Meiners and Morriss
comment that the book
…encourages some of the most
destructive strains within environmentalism: alarmism, technophobia, failure to
consider the costs and benefits of alternatives, and the discounting of human
well-being around the world.[7]
And earlier this month, September 2012, this statement appeared in
an op-ed in Forbes:
The
legacy of Rachel Carson is that tens of millions of human lives – mostly
children in poor, tropical countries – have been traded for the possibility of
slightly improved fertility in raptors. This remains one of the monumental
human tragedies of the last century [emphasis added]. [8]
“Mass murder”, “guilty of genocide”,
“responsible for more deaths than Hitler” are all labels that have been applied
to Rachel Carson in the last few years.
Clearly, some want to continue the controversy or rather the myth.
While DDT has been banned in the U.S. and several other countries, it
still is produced and used in others, mainly for the control of malaria.[9] I remain stunned at this ongoing level of criticism
levied at a scientist, who also happens to be an accomplished
author who has been cited more than any other environmental writer except for
Thoreau.[10] Several of today’s climate scientists receive
regular death threats. I wonder if
Rachel had these too?
As part of this personal exploration into the aftermath of Silent Spring, I think of the crusaders
against environmental toxins that have come since Carson—Theo Colburn, Lois
Gibbs, Arlene Blum, Sandra Steingraber, Erin Brockovich, Terry Tempest
Williams—journalists, housewives, chemists, biologists, authors, women…and
wonder how they dared, knowing the toxic reactions that would be thrown their
way, perhaps for decades, for their entire career, life, and beyond (Carson
died of cancer in 1964, still in her 50’s.)
And I wonder why it has been mainly
women who speak out so publicly. I know
that there are plenty of men who do toxicology and environmental health research,
but they tend to limit their voice to peer-reviewed scientific journals.[11]
In searches easily done via the Internet (which admittedly
can be a questionable source at times, but I did some fact-checking) we know
that there are more than 100,000 chemicals on the U.S. market today, relatively
few of which have been tested for their impact on human health. Over 27 trillion pounds of chemicals, not all
toxic, are produced per year in this country.
That is about 250 pounds of chemicals per person per day. We depend on chemicals in our food, for our
health, and in our demand for energy, fuel, and stuff. (Yes, there are chemicals in those iPhones
and iPads.) We know that Scotts, the lawn and garden products company, just
received the largest judgment in federal court—$12.5 million in fines—for
having insecticides (poisons) in their bird feed products. Love Canal, Times Beach, and Bhopal are now
bad chapters in chemical history. We
know the toxic effects of the 12 million gallons of Agent Orange used between
1965 and 1971 and the 2,4-D, one of the pesticides in that chemical mix is
still used at an annual rate of millions of pounds in the U.S. alone. We know that there are chemical carcinogens
and environmental estrogens (hormone mimics) that alter the gender of reptiles. In humans, accumulating scientific evidence
is demonstrating that these persistent pollutants may be increasing rates of
breast cancer, lowering sperm counts, and making us obese.
Given my
background in chemistry, I am by no means a chemophobe. But I have seen firsthand what environmental
damage chemicals can do through my work at a Superfund site, as well as the
cellular impacts they can have from the days when I worked in a chemical
carcinogenesis lab. As a college
student, I inadvertently ran head on into one of the protests near
Mio, Michigan where state "leaders" were being hung in effigy as a
result of the decision to bury in the region livestock carcasses from animals
accidently contaminated with PBBs. This
incident from the 1970’s, while not well known in much of the country, became
known as the "Poisoning of Michigan" (thanks in part to a book written
by Joyce Egginton) and remains the largest chemical accident and incident of human
and livestock poisoning in this country.
The anger of the protesters was directed at the chemical company, the
Farm Bureau, and the state government.
But I was terrified, so much so, that I didn’t look up what the protest I
encountered was about until about a year ago.
At times, I
feel conflicted as to how to tell the story of risk to my classes, without
creating paranoia. This quest began at
the simple request of some students. I
have since ended my membership in the American Chemical Society and routinely
blog about environmental issues. But
somehow, I must continue to search for the truth and for the courage to ask, as
Rachel did, “why”? Why, now that we know
the truth—that some chemicals are toxic to plants and animals, some alter our
climate, and others damage our ecosystems—do we not work more diligently to
find innovative and safer alternatives?
RIP Rachel. I wish I had your conviction and your courage.
[1] For instance, you can listen to this
interview with Dr. Rymon: http://birdnote.org/show/osprey-return-pennsylvania-interview-larry-rymon
[2] Darby, William J. 1962. "Silence, Miss
Carson." Chemical & Engineering News (Oct. 1): 62-63.
[3] Krupke, C. H., et al., 2007, Professional Entomology
and the Forty-four Noisy Years Since Silent Spring,
Part 2: Response to Silent Spring, American Entomologist 53: 16-26.
[4] Baum, R., 2007, “From the Editor”, Chemical and Engineering News 85: 5.
[6] For
example, see Lockitch, K. “Rachel Carson’s Genocide” in Capitalism
Magazine (5/23/2007) available at http://capitalismmagazine.com/2007/05/rachel-carsons-genocide/ and Swartz, A. “Rachel Carson, Mass Murderer? The Creation of
an Anti-environmental Myth”, in Fair (September/October 2007)
available at http://www.fair.org/index.php?page=3186.
[7]
Meiners,
R.E. and Morriss, A.P., 2012, Silent
spring at 50: Reflections on an
environmental classic, PERC Policy
Series No. 51, p. 1.
[8] Miller,
H.I. and Conko, G. “Rachel Carson’s
Deadly Fantasies”, an op-ed in Forbes (9/5/12) available at http://www.forbes.com/sites/henrymiller/2012/09/05/rachel-carsons-deadly-fantasies/.
[9] The Conference of the Parties to the
Stockholm Convention “continues to allow the use of DDT for use in public
health for disease vector control as recommended by and under the guidance of
the World Health Organization.” A number
of organizations, as part of a Global Alliance, are working to find effective,
but safer alternatives, to reduce the malaria burden.
[10] Meiners,
R.E. and Morriss, A.P., 2012, Silent
spring at 50: Reflections on an
environmental classic, PERC Policy
Series No. 51, p. 1.
[11] One notable exception is Tyrone Hayes, an
African American scientist at U.C. Berkeley, whose own interactions with the
chemical industry and the media have taken a very odd twist: http://www.motherjones.com/environment/2011/11/tyrone-hayes-atrazine-syngenta-feud-frog-endangered?page=1.
Saturday, September 22, 2012
A reason to conserve
Over the
past few weeks, I have been immersed in writings by and about Leopold and
Carson. Buried in the pages are some sentences of extraordinary wisdom and
beauty beyond anything I could ever compose. One of my favorites from Leopold,
perhaps because it reminds me of Wangari Maathai:
That is what those brightly fluttering bits of life taught me this morning. I found a deep happiness in it – so I hope, may you. Thank you for this morning.
After reading these and pondering their power, I think, that if for no other reason, we need to conserve the beauty in the world around us so that people like Leopold and Carson can give us such beautiful and enriching words of inspiration.
Acts of creation
are ordinarily reserved for gods and poets, but humbler folk may circumvent
this restriction if they know how. To plant a pine, for example, one need be
neither god nor poet; one need only own a shovel. By virtue of this curious
loophole in the rules, any clodhopper may say: Let there be a tree - and there
will be one.”
And from
Carson - in her "postscript to the day" written to Dorothy Freeman, about her
last day in Maine - is about Monarchs.
But
most of all I shall remember the monarchs, that unhurried westward drift of one
small winged form after another, each drawn by some invisible force. We talked
a little about their migration, their life history. Did they return? We thought
not; for most, at least, this was the closing journey of their lives.
But it
occurred to me this afternoon, remembering, that it had been a happy spectacle,
that we had felt no sadness when we spoke of the fact that there would be no
return. And rightly – for when any living thing has come to the end of its life
cycle we accept that end as natural.
For
the Monarch, that cycle is measured in a known span of months. For ourselves,
the measure is something else, the span of which we cannot know. But the
thought is the same: when that intangible cycle has run its course it is a
natural and not unhappy thing that a life comes to an end.
That is what those brightly fluttering bits of life taught me this morning. I found a deep happiness in it – so I hope, may you. Thank you for this morning.
The letter can be found in Linda Lear's biography of Carson, Witness for Nature, or at:
Happy Autumnal Equinox
I noticed today the early tinges of color in the trees along the mountain as I worked on a sustainability project for campus. I had forgotten that today was the autumnal equinox, the start to my favorite season. And then I stumbled on this passage and thought it perfect for the day.
A hidden fire burns perpetually upon the hearth of the world.... In autumn this great conflagration becomes especially manifest. Then the flame that is slowly and mysteriously consuming every green thing bursts into vivid radiance. Every blade of grass and every leaf in the woodlands is cast into the great oven of Nature; and the bright colours of their fading are literally the flames of their consuming. The golden harvest-fields are glowing in the heart of the furnace.... By this autumn fire God every year purges the floor of nature. All effete substances that have served their purpose in the old form are burnt up. Everywhere God makes sweet and clean the earth with fire. ~Hugh Macmillan
A hidden fire burns perpetually upon the hearth of the world.... In autumn this great conflagration becomes especially manifest. Then the flame that is slowly and mysteriously consuming every green thing bursts into vivid radiance. Every blade of grass and every leaf in the woodlands is cast into the great oven of Nature; and the bright colours of their fading are literally the flames of their consuming. The golden harvest-fields are glowing in the heart of the furnace.... By this autumn fire God every year purges the floor of nature. All effete substances that have served their purpose in the old form are burnt up. Everywhere God makes sweet and clean the earth with fire. ~Hugh Macmillan
My friend, Drew Lanham, posted this on Facebook today: “Happy Fall Y'all! 'Tis the season for
chasing migrating warblers and wary whitetails. As summer relents to autumnal
senescence, embrace the pace of things slowing down, moving on and storing up.
It is my favorite time of year!”
I responded: “For
reasons I cannot explain, I love the word "senescence". Some find it
sad and linked to death. I prefer to connect it to the cycle of life. And there
is some pretty cool biochemistry involved as well!”
What do you like about the autumn season?
Wednesday, August 15, 2012
Coal mining vs. the Girl Scouts?
Avoiding the
backlog of work that confronts me after traveling to visit family and the long
list of tasks to tackle with the pending start of the academic year, I decided to
check out the news of the day. For a
number of reasons, this story caught my eye on the CNN webpage: Mine Plan Puts Two Kentucky Fixtures on
Collision Course.[1]
I have
written before about our disturbing addiction to fossil fuels. Need you more evidence? We even sacrifice our children's last
remaining places of refuge to scrounge more fuel from the ground. Shame, shame on us. “We pretty much, as a company, have to have this project,” says one of the company’s co-owners. Really?
And our girls, our youth, don’t have
to have a place that is undisturbed by the ravages of giant machinery, dynamite,
and pollution?
There is a strong
sense of resignation in the article, a realization of the inevitable, that the coal
industry will win, again. A necessary
evil. "There is talk of creating a coal badge, to teach girls about
electricity from the ground up, all part of ‘discover, connect, take action,’
the Girl Scouts’ new leadership code."
How about examining the history of coal with its horrible legacy of
environmental destruction (Can I say legacy of raping the land?) and human health
problems. Instead of exploring nature
and just being kids at their camp retreats, the Scouts can now explore the
perpetual cycle of poverty in coal mining regions. “Under these piles of rock and this ash, lay the remains of Camp Pennyroyal which was sacrificed for progress” the sign will
say. “DANGER, Do Not Enter.”
Decades ago, when I was in Scouts, we had a pen pal program with a troop in a Kentucky coal region. I was a grade school student shocked by stories of a type of poor I had not yet encountered: a single community gathering area where the excitement was for the first television in the village—communally owned; the hope for shoes that fit for Christmas; genuine appreciation for the box of used clothes and games that we sent because we no longer wanted them and because our troop leaders thought it would be a good service project.
Years later,
when I was more aware of the disparities in the world, I drove through the
mountains and back roads of Kentucky where I imagined my pen pal must have
lived. To put it mildly, I was stunned
by the shacks, the tattered clothes and dirty tattered children. This was the United States? I have since traveled around the world and,
sadly, have seen poverty that is much worse in many places. But the images from the mountains of
Appalachia, many of which have since had their tops blown off, are still
strongly entrenched in my memory. Is
this why I so often listen to mournful “coal music”? A penance for my inability to make a
difference?
In 2009,
Diane Sawyer (born and raised in Kentucky) and ABC News did a documentary
entitled A Hidden America: Children of the Mountains. Many segments of this
documentary can be found online; this short clip (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ocqTQBk_aco)
gives a flavor of the ongoing poverty in the eastern part of the state and
reminded me of the stories of my pen pal from so many years ago. I was sad to see that things didn’t seem to
have changed much, but glad that some attention was being called to the
problem. Little good has come from the
effort though. And some reviews of the
work were not so positive.[2] The
second link that I reference provides the perspective from someone who lives in a coal mining region in West
Virginia:
But I wondered why Sawyer didn’t explore the causes of the poverty and the
cycle that kept these places poor. I wondered why she did not bring in a panel
of experts to explain how this cycle can be broken and if people want to help,
how they can find it. I wondered why she did not cover more of the coal scene
in the area, such as ravaging the mountains by mountaintop removal, loss of
jobs and the failure of coal operators to give back to the community.
Can this
cycle be broken? Not as long as we
continue to demand fossil fuels or drive through these regions to look, to
shake our heads in disbelief that this happens in our country, to shed a few tears, but then move on safely to our
lives of comfort.
There are
some good resources in the Huffington Post commentary and in one of the
comments to the latter post there are links to two other documentaries and an
interview about Appalachia today.[3] Clearly, there are differing points of view, and
the myriad of social problems are complex.
But the bottom line is that coal mining, poverty, and devastating effects
on children remain as constants in the region.
So is it too much to ask that a mere 180 acres be spared this sad legacy,
and that we keep one peaceful place for future generations? I signed an online petition this morning to
try to save the camp[4],
but am left pondering what can I do that would make a real difference.
http://www.pbs.org/pov/strangerwithacamera/;
and
http://www.pbs.org/wgbh/pages/frontline/countryboys/readings/duncan.html
http://www.pbs.org/wgbh/pages/frontline/countryboys/readings/duncan.html
[4] A petition to protect Camp
Pennyroyal has been started by Change.org:
http://www.change.org/petitions/protect-girl-scout-camp-pennyroyal?utm_campaign=new_signature&utm_medium=email&utm_source=signature_receipt#
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