-
I was standing in the sun on the hot steel
deck of a fishing ship capable of
processing a fifty-ton catch on a good
day. But it wasn' t a good day. We were
anchored in what used to be the most
productive fishing site in all of central Asia,
but
as I looked out over the bow , the
prospects of a good catch looked bleak. Where
there
should have been gentle - blue
green waves lapping against the side of the ship,
there
was nothing but hot dry sand
–
as far as I could see in
all directions. The other ships
of the
fleet were also at rest in the sand, scattered in
the dunes that stretched all the
way to
the horizon . Ten year s ago the Aral was the
fourth-largest inland sea in the
world,
comparable to the largest of North America's Great
Lakes. Now it is
disappearing because
the water that used to feed it has been diverted
in an
ill-considered irrigation scheme
to grow cotton In the usert t. The new shoreline
was
almost forty kilometers across the
sand from where the fishing fleet was now
permanently docked. Meanwhile, in the
nearby town of Muynak the people were still
canning fish
–
brought not from the Aral Sea but shipped by rail
through Siberia from
the Pacific Ocean,
more than a thousand miles away.
My search for
the underlying causes of the environmental crisis
has led me to
travel around the world
to examine and study many of these images of
destruction. At
the very bottom of the
earth, high in the Trans-Antarctic Mountains, with
the sun
glaring at midnight through a
hole in the sky, I stood in the unbelievable
coldness and
talked with a scientist in
the late tall of 1988 about the tunnel he was
digging through
time. Slipping his
parka back to reveal a badly burned face that was
cracked and
peeling, he pointed to the
annual layers of ice in a core sample dug from the
glacier on
which we were standing. He
moved his finger back in time to the ice of two
decades
ago.
bottom of the
world, two continents away from Washington, D. C.,
even a small
reduction in one country's
emissions had changed the amount of pollution
found in the
remotest end least
accessible place on earth.
But the most significant
change thus far in the
earth' s
atmosphere is the one that
began with
the industrial r evolution early in the last
century and has
picked up
speed
ever since
.
Industry meant
coal
, and
later
oil
, and we began to
burn lots of it
–
bringing rising levels of carbon
dioxide (CO2) , with its ability to trap more heat
in
the atmosphere and slowly
warm the earth
. Fewer than a hundred
yards from the
South Pole, upwind from
the ice runway where the ski plane lands and keeps
its
engines running to prevent the
metal parts from freeze-locking together,
scientists
monitor the air sever al
times ever y day to chart the course of that
inexorable change.
During my
visit, I watched one scientist draw the results of
that day's
measurements,
pushing the end of a steep line still
higher on the graph. He told me how easy it is
–
there
at
the end of the earth
–
to see that this enormous
change in the global
atmosphere is
still picking up speed.
Two and a half years later
I slept under the midnight sun at the other end of
our
planet, in a small tent pitched on
a twelve-toot-thick slab of ice floating in the
frigid
Arctic Ocean. After a hearty
breakfast, my companions and I traveled by
snowmobiles a few miles farther north
to a rendezvous point where the ice was
thinner
–
only
three and a half feet thick
–
and a nuclear submarine
hovered in the
water below. After it
crashed through the ice, took on its new
passengers, and
resubmerged, I talked
with scientists who were trying to
measure more accurately the
thickness of the polar ice cap, which
many believe is thinning as a re-suit of global
warming
. I had just
negotiated an agreement between ice scientists and
the U. S. Navy
to secure the re-lease
of previously top secret data from submarine sonar
tracks, data
that could help them learn
what is happening to the north polar cap. Now, I
wanted to
see the pole it-self, and
some eight hours after we met the submarine, we
were
crashing through that ice,
surfacing, and then I was standing in an eerily
beautiful
snowcape, windswept and
sparkling white, with the horizon defined by
little
hummocks, or
when
separate sheets collide. But here too, CD, levels
are rising just as rapidly, and
ultimately temperature will rise with
them
–
indeed, global
warming is expected to
push
temperatures up much more rapidly in the polar
regions than in the rest of the
world.
As the polar air warms, the ice her e will thin;
and since the polar cap plays
such a
crucial role in the world's weather system,
the consequences of a thinning cap
could be disastrous.
Considering
such scenarios is not a purely speculative
exercise. Six months after
I returned
from the North Pole, a team of scientists reported
dramatic changes in the
pattern of ice
distribution in the Arctic, and a second team
reported a still
controversialclaim
(which a variety of data now suggest) that, over
all, the north polar
cap has thinned by
2 per cent in just the last decade. Moreover,
scientists established
several years
ago that in
many land areas north of
the Arctic Circle, the spring
snowmelt
now comes earlier every year, and deep in the
tundra below, the
temperature e of the
earth is steadily rising.
As it happens, some of the
most disturbing images of environmental
destruction
can be found exactly
halfway between the North and South
poles
–
precisely at the
equator in
Brazil
–
where
billowing clouds of smoke regularly black-en the
sky
above the immense but now
threatened Amazon rain forest.
Acre by
acre, the rain
forest is being burned
to create fast pasture for fast-food
beef;
as I learned when I
went there in early 1989, the fires are
set earlier and earlier in the dry season now,
with more than one Tennessee's worth of
rain forest being slashed and
burned
each
year. According
to our guide, the biologist Tom Lovejoy, there are
more different
species of birds in each
square mile of the Amazon than exist in all of
North America
–
which means
we are silencing thousands of songs we have never
even heard.
But one doesn't have to travel around
the world to wit-ness
humankind'
s assault
on the
earth. Images that
signal the distress
of our global environment
are now
commonly seen almost anywhere. On some
nights, in high northern latitudes, the sky
itself offers another ghostly image
that signals the loss of ecological balance now in
progress. If the sky is clear after
sunset -- and it you are watching from a place
where
pollution hasn't blotted out the
night sky altogether -- you can sometimes see a
strange
kind of cloud high in the sky.
This
earth is first cloaked in the
evening dark-ness; shimmering above us with a
translucent
whiteness, these clouds
seem quite unnatural. And they should: noctilucent
clouds
have begun to appear more often
because of a huge buildup of methane gas in the
atmosphere. (Also called natural gas,
methane is released from landfills , from coal
mines and rice paddies, from billions
of termites that swarm through the freshly cut
forestland, from the burning of biomass
and from a variety of other human activities. )
Even though noctilucent clouds were
sometimes seen in the past., all this extra
methane carries more water vapor into
the upper atmosphere, where it condenses at
much higher altitudes to form more
clouds that the sun's rays still strike long after
sunset has brought the beginning of
night to the surface far beneath them.
What should we
feel toward these ghosts in the sky? Simple wonder
or the mix
of emotions we feel at the
zoo? Perhaps we should feel awe for our own power:
just
as men
’
heads in such quantity as to threaten
the beast with
extinction, we are
ripping matter from its place in the earth in such
volume as to upset
the balance between
daylight and darkness. In the process, we are once
again adding
to the
threat
of global warming
,
be-cause
methane has been one of the fastest-growing
green-house gases
, and is
third only to carbon dioxide and water vapor in
total volume,
changing the chemistry of
the upper atmosphere. But, without even
considering that
threat, shouldn't it
startle us that we have now put these clouds in
the evening sky
which glisten with a
spectral light? Or have our eyes adjusted so
completely to the
bright lights of
civilization that we can't see these clouds for
what they are
–
a
physical manifestation of the violent
collision between human civilization and the
earth?
Even though it is sometimes
hard to see their meaning, we have by now all
witnessed surprising experiences that
signal the damage from our assault on the
environment --whether it's the new
frequency of days when the temperature exceeds
100 degrees, the new speed with which
the -un burns our skin, or the new constancy
of public debate over what to do with
growing mountains of waste. But our response
to these signals is puzzling. Why
haven't we launched a massive effort to save our
environment? To come at the question
another way' Why do some images startle us
into immediate action and focus our
attention or ways to respond effectively? And
why do other images, though sometimes
equally dramatic, produce instead a Kin. of
paralysis, focusing our attention not
on ways to respond but rather on some
convenient, less painful
distraction?
Still, there are so
many
distressing images of environ-mental destruction
that
sometimes it seems impossible to
know how to absorb or comprehend them.
Before
considering the
threats themselves, it may be helpful to classify
them and thus begin
to organize our
thoughts and feelings so that we may be able to
respond appropriately.
A
useful system comes from the military, which
frequently places a conflict in one of
three different categories, according
to the theater in which it takes place. There are
reserved for struggles that
can threaten a nation's survival and must be under
stood in
a global context.
Environmental threats can be considered in the
same way. For
example, most instances
of water pollution, air pollution, and illegal
waste dumping
are essentially local in
nature. Problems like acid rain, the contamination
of
under-ground aquifers, and large oil
spills are fundamentally regional. In both of
these
categories, there may be so many
similar instances of particular local and regional
problems occurring simultaneously all
over the world that the patter n appears to be
global, but the problems themselves are
still not truly strategic because the operation
of- the global environment is not
affected and the survival of civilization is not
at
stake.
However, a new class of
environmental problems does affect the global
ecological system, and these threats
are fundamentally strategic. The 600 percent
increase in the amount of chlorine in
the atmosphere during the last forty years has
taken place not just in those countries
producing the chlorofluorocarbons responsible
but in the air above every country,
above Antarctica, above the North Pole and the
Pacific Ocean
–
all the way from the surface of the earth to the
top of the sky. The
increased levels of
chlorine disrupt the global process by which the
earth regulates the
amount of
ultraviolet radiation from the sun that is allowed
through the atmosphere to
the surface;
and it we let chlorine levels continue to
increase, the radiation levels will
al-
so increase
–
to the point
that all animal and plant life will face a new
threat to their
survival.
Global warming
is also a strategic threat. The concentration of
carbon dioxide
and other heat-absorbing
molecules has increased by almost 25 per cent
since World
War II, posing a worldwide
threat to the earth's ability to regulate the
amount of heat
from the sun retained in
the atmosphere. This increase in heat seriously
threatens the
global climate
equilibrium that determines the pattern of winds,
rainfall, surface
temperatures, ocean
currents, and sea level. These in turn determine
the distribution of
vegetative and
animal life on land and sea and have a great
effect on the location and
pattern of
human societies.
In other words, the entire
relationship between humankind and the earth has
been
transformed because our
civilization is suddenly capable of affecting the
entire global
environment, not just a
particular area. All of us know that human
civilization has
usually had a large
impact on the environment; to mention just one
example, there is
evidence that even in
prehistoric times, vast areas were sometimes
intentionally
burned by people in their
search for food. And in our own time we have
reshaped a
large part of the earth's
surface with concrete in our cities and carefully
tended rice
paddies, pastures, wheat
fields, and other croplands in the countryside.
But these
changes, while sometimes
appearing to be pervasive , have, until recently,
been
relatively trivial factors in the
global ecological sys-tem. Indeed, until our
lifetime, it
was always safe to assume
that nothing we did or could do would have any
lasting
effect on the global
environment. But it is precisely that assumption
which must now
be discarded so that we
can think strategically about our new relationship
to the
environment.
Human
civilization is now the dominant cause of change
in the global
environment.
Yet we resist this truth and find it
hard to imagine that our effect on the
earth must now be measured by the same
yardstick used to calculate the strength of
the moon's pull on the oceans or the
force of the wind against the mountains. And it
we are now capable of changing
something so basic as the relationship between the
earth and the sun, surely we must
acknowledge a new responsibility to use that power