So I had to go to traffic court today, although it wasn't for a traffic ticket. I had not renewed my car license tag when it was due (I didn't get a notice for it, but I probably wouldn't have renewed on time anyway, so all in all I didn't really mind paying the fine). But it was very interesting listening to the judge talk to some of the defendents whose tickets really were traffic related. There were several tickets relating to accidents at the same location: getting on I-85 north from 400 south. According to the judge, that intersection is poorly designed, and he decided to take advantage of his position (sitting in front of a trapped audience with a microphone) to declaim his opinion about the road. He addressed the first defendent who'd had an accident at that intersection with the following words:
"You are not a bad driver. You're the victim of bad road engineering. If only we would just let the engineers build the roads the way they want to, this problem wouldn't happen. They wanted to use the toll money from 400 to fix that intersection. Instead, they took that money and built Atlantic Station."
Later, he brought it up again, this time in reference to an accident in which a teenager driver hit another car from behind:
"Atlanta is a very difficult city to be driving in," he told the teenager. "We have a problem of too many cars and not enough roads."
Anyone else seeing a pattern here?
I guess it shouldn't surprise me that a traffic court judge is completely oblivious to the real problems behind traffic. But then again, it does surprise me. Studies on the topic have shown that building more roads actually increases traffic instead of alleviating it. In fact, one British study demonstrated that the opposite is actually true: decreasing road capacity is an effective way to decrease traffic. And the judge is right about one thing: more traffic means more accidents.
But he--along with, probably, most residents of Atlanta--thinks that building a somewhat walkable community such as Atlantic Station instead of building up a road is actually causing more accidents in Atlanta.
Well, I guess everybody's entitled to their opinion.
But I do hate it the fact that in a courtroom, the judge's opinion is the only one that matters.
Thursday, November 29, 2007
Wednesday, November 21, 2007
climate change vs. peak oil
There's a great article on The Oil Drum today (gosh, I love that site) on the problem of addressing climate change solely from a demand perspective. Chris Vernon argues that the oft-cited assurance that personal conservation helps reduce CO2 emissions is unrealistic. Sure, if I choose to take the train instead of flying, my personal CO2 use will be reduced, but will it make any difference to Delta's total carbon emissions? Probably not--the plane will fly without me. Even if enough people choose the train to cause one flight to be cancelled--and here's the crux of Vernon's argument--that oil is still going to be burned. If Delta doesn't use it, Exxon will, or British Airways. If the oil is available, it will be used. That's the reality of the market.
Therefore, Vernon believes that the best way to reduce carbon emissions is by reducing supply instead of demand. Instead of getting all countries to sign agreements promising to use fewer fossil fuels, why not get the oil- and coal-producing countries (a mere fraction of the demand nations, in terms of numbers) to sign agreements promising to cap their fossil fuel output? That would be a promise to actually leave fossil fuels in the ground, which is the only way of assuring that the carbon won't get released into the atmosphere.
There are a host of problems with this, many of which addressed in the comments below the article. One of the biggest is how to compensate for the financial loss that countries will suffer by not selling the oil they could have taken out of the ground. Another problem is the inequality that would be difficult to avoid among demand countries as supplies decrease: developing countries would get priced out of the market, preventing their economic growth.
Ultimately, I think the problem needs to be addressed from both sides. Until now, climate change activists--myself included--have focused almost exclusively on the demand side, and we do need to correct the balance. Part of the reason for that focus, I think, is that most people who are concerned about climate change live in demand countries rather than supply countries. There aren't many climate change activists in Saudi Arabia. But it's true that, in the long run, Saudi Arabia has a lot more power to impact oil-driven climate change than the U.S. does. (We might have more power over coal-driven climate change.)
But I think the whole question addresses a larger problem that really needs to be talked about in the environmental community: the relationship between climate change and peak oil. I heard recently (can't remember where) about a climate change conference that refused to allow a peak oil speaker for fear that people would get more concerned about peak oil than climate change. This is ridiculous. You can't address climate change effectively without also recognizing the reality of peak oil. Until we understand that there will be less oil available on the market, no matter what changes we make on the demand side, we won't be able to lower our carbon usage. And we'll be much more likely to experience global economic collapse if we try to address the problems without understanding all of the factors involved.
Trouble is, there don't seem to be any easy solutions. I grew up in a culture where right and wrong were very black and white. It was never a question of what the right thing is to do, only of whether you were going to do it. But reality is rarely that simple. And in the case of the environmental problems of the industrial world, I sometimes feel like there is no right answer. As a Christian, I want to be motivated by compassion. But still there are no right answers. Reducing oil supply will affect poverty in countries that can little afford it. Reducing demand will do the same for countries on the verge of developing a better life for many of their citizens. But climate change will impact the poor the most, making food more difficult to grow and maybe even turning island nations into Atlantis. And peak oil might mean that it's better for developing nations to not develop, because at least they won't create fossil-fuel-based infrastructures that will soon become obsolete. Sometimes, it's easier to think about the problems from a personal perspective, from the small changes that I personally can make, because it seems like that's all I can do.
My husband was talking last night about how he feels telling people about peak oil: like everyone we know is in a car speeding toward a broken bridge, and he's standing on the side of the road waving desperately for them to stop. And they just swerve around him and keep going. I know what he means; sometimes it does feel like people are incredibly unwilling to think about these issues. But at the same time, I can understand a little of how they feel. When it seems like there are no right answers and no good news, it's a lot easier to just hide your head in the sand.
Therefore, Vernon believes that the best way to reduce carbon emissions is by reducing supply instead of demand. Instead of getting all countries to sign agreements promising to use fewer fossil fuels, why not get the oil- and coal-producing countries (a mere fraction of the demand nations, in terms of numbers) to sign agreements promising to cap their fossil fuel output? That would be a promise to actually leave fossil fuels in the ground, which is the only way of assuring that the carbon won't get released into the atmosphere.
There are a host of problems with this, many of which addressed in the comments below the article. One of the biggest is how to compensate for the financial loss that countries will suffer by not selling the oil they could have taken out of the ground. Another problem is the inequality that would be difficult to avoid among demand countries as supplies decrease: developing countries would get priced out of the market, preventing their economic growth.
Ultimately, I think the problem needs to be addressed from both sides. Until now, climate change activists--myself included--have focused almost exclusively on the demand side, and we do need to correct the balance. Part of the reason for that focus, I think, is that most people who are concerned about climate change live in demand countries rather than supply countries. There aren't many climate change activists in Saudi Arabia. But it's true that, in the long run, Saudi Arabia has a lot more power to impact oil-driven climate change than the U.S. does. (We might have more power over coal-driven climate change.)
But I think the whole question addresses a larger problem that really needs to be talked about in the environmental community: the relationship between climate change and peak oil. I heard recently (can't remember where) about a climate change conference that refused to allow a peak oil speaker for fear that people would get more concerned about peak oil than climate change. This is ridiculous. You can't address climate change effectively without also recognizing the reality of peak oil. Until we understand that there will be less oil available on the market, no matter what changes we make on the demand side, we won't be able to lower our carbon usage. And we'll be much more likely to experience global economic collapse if we try to address the problems without understanding all of the factors involved.
Trouble is, there don't seem to be any easy solutions. I grew up in a culture where right and wrong were very black and white. It was never a question of what the right thing is to do, only of whether you were going to do it. But reality is rarely that simple. And in the case of the environmental problems of the industrial world, I sometimes feel like there is no right answer. As a Christian, I want to be motivated by compassion. But still there are no right answers. Reducing oil supply will affect poverty in countries that can little afford it. Reducing demand will do the same for countries on the verge of developing a better life for many of their citizens. But climate change will impact the poor the most, making food more difficult to grow and maybe even turning island nations into Atlantis. And peak oil might mean that it's better for developing nations to not develop, because at least they won't create fossil-fuel-based infrastructures that will soon become obsolete. Sometimes, it's easier to think about the problems from a personal perspective, from the small changes that I personally can make, because it seems like that's all I can do.
My husband was talking last night about how he feels telling people about peak oil: like everyone we know is in a car speeding toward a broken bridge, and he's standing on the side of the road waving desperately for them to stop. And they just swerve around him and keep going. I know what he means; sometimes it does feel like people are incredibly unwilling to think about these issues. But at the same time, I can understand a little of how they feel. When it seems like there are no right answers and no good news, it's a lot easier to just hide your head in the sand.
Tuesday, November 20, 2007
what will you do when the water runs out?
Gov. Purdue's prayers for rain last week didn't have much effect, but the Army Corp was more inclined to listen to him than God was. Over the protests of Alabama power plants and Florida fishing industries, they've agreed to reduce the flow of water out of Lake Lanier by 5% starting this Friday, and they'll consider further cuts next month.
Will it help? Maybe. It should at least delay the inevitable. But without a miraculous level of serious, sustained rain, changing Lake Lanier's water flow can only postpone the inevitable. Maybe we'll make it through the winter, but what will happen in the next dry Georgia summer if the reservoirs aren't replenished before then?
My personal opinion is that this might well be the first signs of Georgia becoming, like the Southwest has been for a long time, an unsustainable place for large cities. We've been pushing the limits of natural places for humans to live for a long time, but in the past few years we've begun to see that we can only push those limits so far. Witness New Orleans, which two years after the hurricane still has not rebuilt much of the damage done. And to be honest, how much sense does it make to rebuild a city below sea level? But I think Atlanta might soon be a similar victim to the opposite problem: a mere remnant of her former self, abandoned in favor of places with more reliable drinking water.
I told my husband months ago that if the water ran out, or came close, we were moving back to Virginia. Right next to the Shenandoah River. He was hesitant, since he loves his job here, and--surprisingly, to me--he was rather unconcerned about the possibility of water actually drying up in the city. "They won't let that happen," he said, although I still don't know who he meant by "they." But yesterday he asked his boss whether he'd be able to telecommute from Virginia if water problems in Atlanta got bad. Somewhat to his surprise, she took the question very seriously.
"We'll definitely have to change our telecommuting options," she told him, "because I think a lot of people will not want to stay in the city."
Add me to the list of people who won't stick around to stand in line for bottled water from FEMA or the Red Cross. Although I realize it's not really necessary to go as far as Virginia--there are rivers still running here, and I know people with wells in the exurbs--but for me, it's a good excuse. And hey, if I'm moving anyway, why not get out of the drought-prone area entirely?
What about you? What will you do if Atlanta's faucets stop running?
Will it help? Maybe. It should at least delay the inevitable. But without a miraculous level of serious, sustained rain, changing Lake Lanier's water flow can only postpone the inevitable. Maybe we'll make it through the winter, but what will happen in the next dry Georgia summer if the reservoirs aren't replenished before then?
My personal opinion is that this might well be the first signs of Georgia becoming, like the Southwest has been for a long time, an unsustainable place for large cities. We've been pushing the limits of natural places for humans to live for a long time, but in the past few years we've begun to see that we can only push those limits so far. Witness New Orleans, which two years after the hurricane still has not rebuilt much of the damage done. And to be honest, how much sense does it make to rebuild a city below sea level? But I think Atlanta might soon be a similar victim to the opposite problem: a mere remnant of her former self, abandoned in favor of places with more reliable drinking water.
I told my husband months ago that if the water ran out, or came close, we were moving back to Virginia. Right next to the Shenandoah River. He was hesitant, since he loves his job here, and--surprisingly, to me--he was rather unconcerned about the possibility of water actually drying up in the city. "They won't let that happen," he said, although I still don't know who he meant by "they." But yesterday he asked his boss whether he'd be able to telecommute from Virginia if water problems in Atlanta got bad. Somewhat to his surprise, she took the question very seriously.
"We'll definitely have to change our telecommuting options," she told him, "because I think a lot of people will not want to stay in the city."
Add me to the list of people who won't stick around to stand in line for bottled water from FEMA or the Red Cross. Although I realize it's not really necessary to go as far as Virginia--there are rivers still running here, and I know people with wells in the exurbs--but for me, it's a good excuse. And hey, if I'm moving anyway, why not get out of the drought-prone area entirely?
What about you? What will you do if Atlanta's faucets stop running?
Thursday, November 15, 2007
cellulosic ethanol: the fuel of the future?
Last night at Atlanta Beyond Oil I heard a presentation on the possible future of cellulosic ethanol in Georgia. Ethanol has become a byword in the transportation industry the past few years, but the opinions on it are shockingly mixed. To hear the industry gurus talk, you'd think that ethanol is a quick, easy switch for gasoline that will support our existing infrastructure with hardly a blip of transition--like a magician switching a rabbit for a handkerchief under his hat. Among environmentalists, while biofuels are touted on one hand, corn ethanol has been adamantly resisted, for numerous reasons I've blogged about before. But the irresistable conclusion is that if corn ethanol is bad, some other type of ethanol is the answer. Enter cellulosic ethanol.
The only real complaint I'd heard before about cellulosic ethanol is that it doesn't exist yet. Which isn't entirely true--there are pilot plants in Sweden, for instance, and the process seems to be theoretically feasible. But it's a long, hard process from research and development to commercial viability--usually, for new technology, a process of fifteen to twenty years. And for a technology that's still in the R & D stage, it can be very difficult to get accurate information about feasibility--not only because no one really knows yet, but also because engineers always try to give the most optimistic numbers (sometimes wildly unrealistic ones) to potential investors.
However, last night I was lucky enough to hear a presentation by an engineer who is currently working toward developing a pilot plant for cellulosic ethanol from Georgia pine trees, and so I finally got some solid information on the challenges involved. So here's my take on some of the biggest problems with the dream fuel of the future.
1. Our presenter said there are currently 24 million acres of forest in Georgia. I don't know how much of that "forest" is actually monoculture tree farms of endless pine trees, which is a far cry from the complex biodiversity of a natural forest. But leaving that aside for a minute, he went on to calculate that we could "sustainably"use 19 million dry tons per year for energy and still meet our lumber and paper needs. As far as I could tell, his definition of sustainable was simply having the same amount of acreage with trees on it at the end of the year as we had at the beginning. So we clear cut one acre of ten-year-old trees, and we plant another acre of new trees. But this doesn't allow for other plants to grow; it doesn't allow the trees to replenish the soil in a natural way. And the reality is that any time you're growing a monoculture crop without replenishing the soil, you're going to end up with a desert. In that sense, monoculture tree farms aren't really that different from monoculture corn fields. They just take a little longer for the destruction to be visible.
When one of the folks in the audience brought up this problem, the presenter said there was talk about utilizing the land between trees as well. I got a little more excited at this point, expecting him to say they would plant cover crops or companion crops or something that would help nourish the soil and make the system more sustainable. But no: they're talking about planting switchgrass between pine trees, so they can use that for ethanol as well and increase their yield per acre. Switchgrass! As though the land existed for no other purpose than to produce fuel for our cars.
Something about this just doesn't fit with my idea of stewardship. But on to the other problems.
2. Even with an ethanol tree crop that would, I'm pretty sure, turn much of Georgia into a desert, their estimate is that Georgia could produce a total of around 70 million gallons of ethanol per year. That's 22% of Georgia's current transportation fuel needs. Not to be confused with whatever the need will be in thirty or forty years, by the time all these plants could possibly be up and running. It's hardly a drop in the bucket. Would it help? Maybe. Is it worth it? That's the real question. More about that in my next point.
3. The cost estimates are that they could make a profit selling ethanol at $2/gallon, which is a very cheap price. However, a significant piece of manufacturing cost is the cost of transporting the wood chips to the plant, and for that they plan to use trucks powered by petroleum diesel. The current cost estimate is based on diesel costing around $3.20/gallon. In twenty years. Nice pipe dream, Mr. Cellulosic Ethanol, but if diesel is still that cheap in five years, I'll eat my hat.
Of course, theoretically, they could always sell the ethanol for more as the price of petroleum fuel increased, so that problem isn't necessarily prohibitive.
4. At one point in his presentation, our speaker claimed that the Net Energy Ratio was greater than 10. I found that hard to believe, but by dint of much questioning I was able to figure out that he was talking about the ratio of nonrenewable energy invested as compared to the renewable energy gained. The actual EROEI, he said eventually, is probably more in the range of 1.7. Which is better than corn ethanol. But is it enough to make it worth all this trouble? Quite frankly, I think not.
I did find it particularly interesting that he was so focused on the ratio of non-renewable to renewable energy, to the exclusion of the actual total energy required to make this process happen. I have a feeling this has to do with the success of the climate change movement in making fossil fuels a hard sell in today's market. But it sidesteps the real issue, which is how much effort it really takes to keep our cars running. At some point, we're going to have to wake up and realize that the effort isn't worth the return.
On the bright side (literally), our presenter did say that he believes solar is the ultimate answer for our energy needs, and biomass is only a short-term solution. I definitely have to agree. Is it a solution that's worth pursuing at all, even in the short-term? Well, maybe. I thought my friend Douglas has the best answer: Yes, we should pursue ethanol. But instead of trying to make as much as we possibly can, let's figure out how little we can possibly manage with. Let's set up a public transit system that can run on electricity and ethanol, and let's make it as efficient and convenient as possible. Then let's recycle all our cars and let the rest of the forests grow in peace.
The only real complaint I'd heard before about cellulosic ethanol is that it doesn't exist yet. Which isn't entirely true--there are pilot plants in Sweden, for instance, and the process seems to be theoretically feasible. But it's a long, hard process from research and development to commercial viability--usually, for new technology, a process of fifteen to twenty years. And for a technology that's still in the R & D stage, it can be very difficult to get accurate information about feasibility--not only because no one really knows yet, but also because engineers always try to give the most optimistic numbers (sometimes wildly unrealistic ones) to potential investors.
However, last night I was lucky enough to hear a presentation by an engineer who is currently working toward developing a pilot plant for cellulosic ethanol from Georgia pine trees, and so I finally got some solid information on the challenges involved. So here's my take on some of the biggest problems with the dream fuel of the future.
1. Our presenter said there are currently 24 million acres of forest in Georgia. I don't know how much of that "forest" is actually monoculture tree farms of endless pine trees, which is a far cry from the complex biodiversity of a natural forest. But leaving that aside for a minute, he went on to calculate that we could "sustainably"use 19 million dry tons per year for energy and still meet our lumber and paper needs. As far as I could tell, his definition of sustainable was simply having the same amount of acreage with trees on it at the end of the year as we had at the beginning. So we clear cut one acre of ten-year-old trees, and we plant another acre of new trees. But this doesn't allow for other plants to grow; it doesn't allow the trees to replenish the soil in a natural way. And the reality is that any time you're growing a monoculture crop without replenishing the soil, you're going to end up with a desert. In that sense, monoculture tree farms aren't really that different from monoculture corn fields. They just take a little longer for the destruction to be visible.
When one of the folks in the audience brought up this problem, the presenter said there was talk about utilizing the land between trees as well. I got a little more excited at this point, expecting him to say they would plant cover crops or companion crops or something that would help nourish the soil and make the system more sustainable. But no: they're talking about planting switchgrass between pine trees, so they can use that for ethanol as well and increase their yield per acre. Switchgrass! As though the land existed for no other purpose than to produce fuel for our cars.
Something about this just doesn't fit with my idea of stewardship. But on to the other problems.
2. Even with an ethanol tree crop that would, I'm pretty sure, turn much of Georgia into a desert, their estimate is that Georgia could produce a total of around 70 million gallons of ethanol per year. That's 22% of Georgia's current transportation fuel needs. Not to be confused with whatever the need will be in thirty or forty years, by the time all these plants could possibly be up and running. It's hardly a drop in the bucket. Would it help? Maybe. Is it worth it? That's the real question. More about that in my next point.
3. The cost estimates are that they could make a profit selling ethanol at $2/gallon, which is a very cheap price. However, a significant piece of manufacturing cost is the cost of transporting the wood chips to the plant, and for that they plan to use trucks powered by petroleum diesel. The current cost estimate is based on diesel costing around $3.20/gallon. In twenty years. Nice pipe dream, Mr. Cellulosic Ethanol, but if diesel is still that cheap in five years, I'll eat my hat.
Of course, theoretically, they could always sell the ethanol for more as the price of petroleum fuel increased, so that problem isn't necessarily prohibitive.
4. At one point in his presentation, our speaker claimed that the Net Energy Ratio was greater than 10. I found that hard to believe, but by dint of much questioning I was able to figure out that he was talking about the ratio of nonrenewable energy invested as compared to the renewable energy gained. The actual EROEI, he said eventually, is probably more in the range of 1.7. Which is better than corn ethanol. But is it enough to make it worth all this trouble? Quite frankly, I think not.
I did find it particularly interesting that he was so focused on the ratio of non-renewable to renewable energy, to the exclusion of the actual total energy required to make this process happen. I have a feeling this has to do with the success of the climate change movement in making fossil fuels a hard sell in today's market. But it sidesteps the real issue, which is how much effort it really takes to keep our cars running. At some point, we're going to have to wake up and realize that the effort isn't worth the return.
On the bright side (literally), our presenter did say that he believes solar is the ultimate answer for our energy needs, and biomass is only a short-term solution. I definitely have to agree. Is it a solution that's worth pursuing at all, even in the short-term? Well, maybe. I thought my friend Douglas has the best answer: Yes, we should pursue ethanol. But instead of trying to make as much as we possibly can, let's figure out how little we can possibly manage with. Let's set up a public transit system that can run on electricity and ethanol, and let's make it as efficient and convenient as possible. Then let's recycle all our cars and let the rest of the forests grow in peace.
Saturday, November 3, 2007
step it up today!
Don't forget that today is Step It Up, National Day of Climate Action! If you're not going to an action near you, then you should be. And if you're in Atlanta, come to Step It Up Atlanta. There'll be live music, games for kids, and information on how you can reduce your carbon footprint. Ann Fauver of the Atlanta City Council will be speaking, as well as representatives from Pat Gardner's office and John Lewis's office. Stop by John Howell Park in Virginia Highlands (across from Inman Park Middle School) anytime today between 2 and 5. And come say hi to me!
See you there!
See you there!
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