Tracking Superbugs: Antibiotic Resistance Spreads Among Marine Mammals

New research in the Salish Sea shows how antibiotic-resistant bacteria is growing in coastal waterways and why it's how to track.

One Friday afternoon in August, Stephanie Norman was performing a routine necropsy, hacking away at the remains of a large, pneumonia-stricken harbor seal, when she nicked herself with the scalpel. She thought nothing of it until she woke up Sunday morning. “My finger was this big around,” she said later, making a circle the size of a silver dollar with her thumb and index finger.

Norman, a veterinary epidemiologist, examines stranded seals and porpoises in the Salish Sea for antibiotic-resistant bacteria. Despite her injury, she rushed to the airport to travel to a research conference. But on the flight, her symptoms worsened: “The biologist sitting next to me said, ‘Do you know that you’ve got a red streak going up your arm?’ ” So, after she landed, Norman sought help at an urgent care clinic. Knowing her infection could be resistant to antibiotics, she was nervous.

Each year, around 2 million people in the U.S. develop antibiotic-resistant infections, and 23,000 of them die as a result. Scientists need to understand how resistant bacteria travel to control their spread, but that path is far from straightforward. To illuminate the pathways among humans, pets, and livestock to wild animals, researchers must collect samples from a variety of species, including those that live in the ocean.

But sampling marine animals, especially wild ones, is hard. Taking a swab from a creature’s body requires removing it from the water, which disturbs the animal and requires significant time and effort. As a result, there are only a handful of studies on resistant bacteria in wild marine animals and resistant bacteria, leaving scientists with an incomplete picture of how superbugs spread in coastal waterways.

To remedy that, Norman is enlisting help from volunteers who respond to stranded marine mammals around the Salish Sea. They take samples from fresh dead seals and porpoises, which are analyzed for resistance to 16 antibiotics. They bring some carcasses to Norman for necropsies, which provide clues about the animals and their potential exposure to resistant bacteria: what they ate, how they died and any contact they may have had with human-made materials, like fishing lures.

Resistant bacteria might also be latent in the water, partly due to the aquaculture industry’s use of antibiotics. The FDA has authorized three antibiotics to treat ailing fish, which are related to medications also used to treat humans. The treatments, dumped into the water directly or via fish food, easily disperse from open pens; a 2013 study estimated that 80 percent of aquaculture medications make their way into the greater environment. These trace amounts stimulate the growth of resistant bacteria by killing off all but the hardiest strains. Those bacteria can then afflict wildlife and sometimes even find their way back to land, infecting humans. In Washington, studies from as early as 1992 show resistant bacteria proliferating around commercial Atlantic salmon pens.

Other potential sources include sewage, agriculture and stormwater runoff. Tracking superbugs in the ocean as well as on land will provide a clearer picture of how they spread and perhaps suggest ways to minimize transmission. Norman’s test results will be entered into the archives at ARMADA, a nonprofit organization building a database of antibiotic-resistant gene data for researchers. Evgeni Sokurenko, a University of Washington microbiologist on the organization’s advisory board, said this information could help researchers stop bacterial outbreaks before they start. “If you imagine bacterial strains as criminals, what we’re doing is creating a database of these criminals so they can be caught, and (we can) figure out where they’re coming from,” he said.

So far, Norman and her team have collected samples from 28 seals and 10 porpoises. About half carried resistant bacteria, while a sizable portion — half the porpoises and a quarter of the seals — also harbored what Sokurenko calls “nightmare bugs”: bacteria that are resistant to more than one antibiotic, and thus less treatable by the medications doctors and vets typically use. These strains were resistant to ciprofloxacin and third-generation cephalosporins, medications commonly used to treat a wide range of infections in humans. That’s “quite unusual for wildlife,” said Sokurenko.

Norman’s goal is to sample 130 marine mammals by the end of the year. One project can’t unravel all the intricacies of how antibiotic-resistant bacteria spread, but Norman hopes her samples yield some answers. After all, ocean health and human health are inextricably linked, she said. “It’s a two-way street.”

Her finger infection in August drove this home. At first, Norman didn’t know which bacteria was the culprit — just that it came from an ill seal that may have harbored resistant bacteria. “Wow, that’s concerning,” the clinic nurse told her. Together, they decided on two antibiotics, hoping at least one might work: a shot of cephalosporin and a course of doxycycline. A week later, the seal’s lab results came back: It was a type of resistant E. coli, which, luckily, was not resistant to doxycycline — and Norman’s finger was healing nicely.

This story was originally published at High Country News on October 9, 2019. 

Hotbed of Resistance: A Voice From Inside Trump’s EPA

Regulatory rollbacks are just one small part of the Trump administration’s efforts to limit the effectiveness of the Environmental Protection Agency, but there’s a whole lot more, says a career agency staffer.

On Feb. 6, 2017, 300 people took to the streets of Chicago in protest of the impending confirmation of Scott Pruitt as head of the Environmental Protection Agency. Many of those in the crowd were EPA workers. ThinkProgress described the action as “what appears to be the first protest by federal workers against the Trump administration.”the ask

The effort — led by the American Federation of Government Employees Local 704, which represents 900 EPA workers based in Chicago — wasn’t the last.

Three months later the broader AFGE Council 238, which represents Local 704 and more than 7,000 other EPA employees nationwide, launched the Save the U.S. EPA campaign to fight attacks on the agency, its staff, and their effectiveness in protecting the environment and public health.

Nicole Cantello is one of its spokespeople and has been president of AFGE Local 704 in Chicago for the past five months. She’s also spent 29 years as an EPA attorney holding polluters accountable and currently works as senior counsel for water and water enforcement in the Great Lakes region.

Cantello spoke to The Revelator in her capacity as union president about how life has changed for EPA workers during the Trump administration, how those changes affect the environment and why we need a plan to rebuild the agency.

You’ve worked with a number of different administrations over your nearly three decades with the EPA. How much did things change with each one, and how does that compare to life now under the Trump administration? 

The change that the Trump administration brought is the most devastating change that has ever been wrought on EPA.

My first administration was [George Herbert Walker] Bush. That was really the administration that was the most free of any political interference that I’ve ever worked under. Each administration after that had slight differences and slight biases based on politics. But you really didn’t feel that constrained, it was minor.

It’s so different now under the Trump administration, where every single matter that you might bring has a political tinge to it and you cannot bring a case under this administration that there isn’t some kind of issue that is going to raise alarm bells.

It seems like things have basically come to a standstill here. There are just so many hoops to jump through that it’s very difficult to bring enforcement cases.

Nicole Cantello
Nicole Cantello, president of AFGE local 704 at a union rally. (Photo by AFGE local 704)

What are the impacts of this on the ground, to human health and the environment?

Here in Chicago our job is to enforce the law. We don’t do any of the rulemaking like they do in Washington, D.C., where there are a lot of regulatory rollbacks coming out of [now current EPA administrator] Andrew Wheeler’s shop.

But the numbers on enforcement are down nationwide and where I am in EPA Region 5. A lot of times Region 5 does more inspections than the rest of the nation combined. We view ourselves as the engine of enforcement — as Region 5 goes, so goes the nation.

When our enforcement is very low, you know things are really wrong. It means that human health and the environment are not being protected. It means that polluters don’t fear the EPA and that means that they can pollute with impunity, or they believe that they can. And that means that there’s going to be more pollutants being discharged into lakes and streams or into the air.

What is daily life like for EPA staffers?

We had a contract that we had been working under since 2007 that was taken away from us and we were robbed of our workplace rights that we had collectively bargained. As of July 8, we now have what we call a Unilateral Management Anti-Employee Directive. It took away a lot of the things that we had under the old contract, including the right to grieve any disciplinary actions brought against us or changes in our performance reviews.

For my work with the union, it took away any ability for me to help my employees during work time — it basically took away the voice of unions in the workplace.

It also makes it very difficult for workers to feel like they can whistle-blow because what you could be disciplined for now you can’t file a grievance to respond to. That’s a very serious thing. There are three Office of Inspector General investigations going on in Region 5 due to employee whistleblowing — this is a hotbed of resistance.

Another issue is staffing. They have decided to drain EPA staff, especially here in Region 5, by not hiring to replace people. When Trump took office, he announced that he wanted to bring EPA staff down. We were at 1,160 here in the region [at the beginning of 2017] and now we’re down about 950 and it has just been devastating to us. There’s a lot of work not getting done and a lot of environmental protection not happening.

What are you hearing from people working in other federal agencies on environment-related issues? Are their complaints similar?

I don’t know about all of them — I do know that the Department of the Interior has the same workplace issues as we do from the standpoint of the contract. So, the National Park Service, for example, has no contract right now.

The thing about EPA is that when it comes to how much money someone or some industry is going make, we really have an influence on that in a way that the Department of the Interior or the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration or some of the other science people don’t.

We’re really more like the Securities and Exchange Commission [that regulates the financial industry] in that we can really have a say in exactly how much an industry is or is not going to be profitable because of how much pollution control we’re going to demand from someone.

EPA operates obviously more in a regulatory mode and so is not very industry friendly. And I think that industry has been wanting to turn that around — we’ve been in their sights for a long time. We’re just more of a target.

How long do you think it will take to undo the damage caused to EPA during this administration?

This is something that we have been trying to call the alarm on because the people that are going to have to work on climate change and hit the ground running right away if a new administration comes in January 2020 are my people. We are the people that have control of CO2 from the big sources that need to be addressed immediately — things like power plants — the low-hanging fruit. And it’s my people that are being crippled right now.

We really have to start thinking about the fact that we can’t be reducing EPA staff when it’s EPA staff that has to start working on all this stuff that the kids were just in the streets protesting about three weeks ago.

We need to start thinking about how we’re going to repair EPA right away, so that we can have EPA start trying to save the world.

Previously in The Revelator:

The Fight to Save the EPA

The William Perry Pendley Rehabilitation Tour

The ethically challenged acting director of the Bureau of Land Management made a tense appearance at the Society of Environmental Journalists conference last week to discuss his radical record.

William Perry Pendley wants you think that what he thinks doesn’t matter.

Pendley spent four decades advocating for the corporate exploitation of U.S. public lands. He now serves the Trump administration as the acting director of the Bureau of Land Management, the agency responsible for much of those same public lands.

Over the years Pendley, a self-styled “Sagebrush Rebel,” has pushed for the wholesale divestment of public lands from federal control, denied the existence of climate change and the hole in the ozone layer, denigrated the press, and called illegal immigrants a “cancer,” among other radical, extremist positions.

But now he’d have you believe that those actions and opinions no longer matter.

“My personal opinions are irrelevant,” Pendley said during an on-stage panel moderated by Juliet Eilperin of The Washington Post last week at the Society of Environmental Journalists annual conference in Fort Collins, Colo. “I have a new job now,” he told the audience. “I’m a zealous advocate for my client. My client is the American people, and my bosses are the president of the United States and Secretary Bernhardt. So what I thought, what I wrote, what I did in the past is irrelevant. I have orders, I have laws to obey, and I intend to do that.”

That appearance represented just one part of what appears to be a broader media strategy to rehabilitate Pendley’s image, including softball interviews for multiple publications and an op-ed for The Denver Post on the eve of the conference.

So what dominates Pendley’s opinions now? Well, he thinks the worst thing facing America’s public lands right now isn’t climate change — it is, in his opinion, wild horses.

But how would he know? During his SEJ appearance, throughout which he deflected a barrage of tough questions from the journalists in the audience, he admitted that BLM’s regional directors had yet to brief him about the already obvious local effects of climate change on public lands, many of which were cited by other panelists during the discussion.

I asked Pendley why he hasn’t been briefed on this, and if there were other issues on which he had also not been briefed.

His response: “Well, yeah, there’s a ton of topics I haven’t been briefed on, and one of the reasons is my recusals.”

Pendley, you see, has a 17-page list of ethical recusals — nearly 60 companies and groups that he used to represent in his role as president of the Mountain States Legal Foundation, an organization “dedicated to individual liberty, the right to own and use property, limited government, and free enterprise” which the Center for Media and Democracy calls “a training ground for a number of attorneys most active in the anti-environmental movement.”

These recusals include oil companies, energy companies and the National Mining Association, among many others. According to BLM ethical guidelines, Pendley is restricted from actions at the agency that would overlap with the interests of his prior clients, usually for a period of two years.

In other words, he’s not being educated about the issues that define his roles and responsibilities as head of the BLM, and he’s not ethically allowed to do much of that job anyway.

Pendley did continue to answer my question by saying that he’s just been cleared to start receiving briefings on a number of issues, but would not commit to saying when those briefings — most notably the ones on climate change — would occur. “When it pops up on my schedule,” he said about that timeline.

He didn’t seem too concerned, though. After all, he’s got horses to worry about — not to mention oil companies. Although Pendley’s list of recusals remains long, he obviously still finds himself more on the side of maintaining oil-drilling rights and jobs than the rights of the wildlife or climatory systems that depend on public lands. He called Democratic presidential candidates’ “Keep It in the Ground” pledges to stop new drilling “absolutely insane” and characterized oil drilling as a matter of “life or death” for western communities.

He also, in a question from Eilperin about the role of recreation on public land, conflated BLM’s role as a leasing agent of extraction rights with the companies doing the actual drilling and other activities. “We manage 245 million acres of land, 10 percent of the nation’s land mass, and we have a multiple use directive… We drill for oil. We mine coal. We cut trees. We allow ranchers to graze their cattle and their sheep on our lands. Your lands.”

Regardless of his past or present positions, the real measure of a person comes from their deeds, not their words. And Pendley’s rehabilitation tour isn’t all talk. It also obviously serves to build support for the ongoing plan to move much of the BLM away from Washington, DC, and into the West — a change opposed by BLM staff themselves but long supported and dreamed of by Pendley and other anti-federal appointees in the Trump administration. That plan grows closer every day, and when it happens many experts predict that federal control over public lands could begin to erode.

And that might prove to be Pendley’s most defining statement of all.

Saving the Vaquita: New Promises and New Threats

In response to pressures from the international community, Mexico has agreed to take more steps to prevent the porpoises’ extinction — but with fewer than 20 remaining, will that be enough?

Six months: That’s how much time Mexico now has to report on its progress to save the critically endangered vaquita porpoise (Phocoena sinus) from extinction.

It’s a time-sensitive deadline. After years of decline, as few as 6 to 19 vaquitas survive in their only home, the Gulf of California. Also known as the Sea of Cortez, the gulf lies between mainland Mexico and Baja California — and the porpoises’ population there has slowly but steadily been wiped out over the past decade. First these gentle, blunt-faced porpoises were killed by shrimp fishermen, who accidentally caught the “sea cows” in their large gillnets. More recently they’ve fallen to poachers seeking a rare fish called the totoaba (Totoaba mcdonaldi).

Totoaba swim bladders sell for up to $20,000 each in China, where they’re considered a delicacy and are used in traditional medicine. The bladders are frequently smuggled through the United States before heading to Asian consumer markets.

With transnational criminal cartels leading the totoaba poaching and distribution, and with time running out for vaquita, the future for both species “looks very bleak indeed,” says Richard Thomas, global communications coordinator for TRAFFIC, an NGO focusing on wildlife trade.

Conservationists have urged Mexico to protect the vaquita for years, and the country and its allies have taken many steps along the way, but the species’ population has continued to decline. As a result the international community has now finally put a bit of real pressure on the Mexican government. According to an agreement established this August at the 18th triennial meeting of the member parties to the Convention on International Trade in Endangered Species (CITES), Mexico, in collaboration with the U.S. and China, must now work to eliminate both the supply and consumer demand for totoaba and support a program to remove destructive gillnets from the fishery in the Gulf of California. The three nations promised to meet about these goals in the next few months.

“Urgent measures include maintaining net-free zones, round-the-clock patrolling of these areas with removal of all gillnets — and protection for those carrying out these tasks — and arrest and prosecution of illegal fishers,” says Thomas.

Mexico, meanwhile, must improve its enforcement of existing laws by Nov. 30 and report on its progress to the CITES Secretariat every six months. The first report will be due in early 2020.

“Mexico took this, I think, with a lot of commitment, but also wanted the other parties to recognize the efforts that have been done in the country as well,” says Adrian Reuter, Latin American wildlife trafficking coordinator at the Wildlife Conservation Society. “It’s not that Mexico had done nothing — there’s a long, long list of things they have done — but obviously it’s been insufficient.”

If these new efforts don’t roll out fast enough, or if vaquita continue to die, Mexico could conceivably face international sanctions that would prevent it from exporting some of its most profitable native plants or animals, specifically those species currently listed on what’s known as CITES Appendix II.

CITES, an international treaty covering wildlife trade among 183 member nations, protects threatened species by placing them on two lists that regulate trade. The first, Appendix I, bans all international trade in endangered plants and animals. The second, Appendix II, allows trade, but only of specimens from proven-sustainable populations.

Blocking Mexico from legally exporting its Appendix II species — a step advocated for by several conservation organizations in the lead-up to CITES — is actually a pretty significant threat. More than 2,300 Mexican plants and animals appear on CITES Appendix II, including some coveted species and products such as bighorn sheep hunting trophies, mahogany wood and shark fins.

Other species on the list include boa constrictors, iguanas, corals, spider monkeys and dozens of kinds of orchid.

CITES sanctions, however, don’t happen very often. One of the few noteworthy examples occurred in 2013, when CITES threatened to sanction Thailand if the country didn’t reduce the amount of illegal ivory for sale there. (The threat worked, by the way. The amount of ivory available in Bangkok markets dropped 96 percent by 2016.)

But progress for the vaquita will be much tougher to achieve because of the violent cartels dominating the trade. “The vaquita and the totoaba are a good example of how things can go really, really bad for biodiversity when the commodity is really high-value and organized crime gets involved,” says Reuter.

“It’s a big, big challenge,” he adds. “As we know, the totoaba bladder trade involves transnational, highly organized networks. It’s a high-value commodity. It requires actions being taken like for addressing any other serious crime committed by organized cartels and organizations. Sometimes that’s difficult because it requires lots of resources, staff and coordination that — in many instances, not just in Mexico but in many other countries in the region — are not available to tackle environmental crimes.”

With the time for action growing increasingly tight, will we see any progress on saving the vaquita from extinction? Reuter says he’ll be watching to see what happens by the end of the year, especially to find out if the proposed meeting between Mexico, the United States and China actually takes place. “If it does, it would be a very good forum to follow up on what happened,” he says.

Meanwhile there’s both good news and a stark reminder about the need for action. Last month the Sea Shepherd Conservation Society reported that scientists had, over the course of a few weeks, observed six vaquitas in the Gulf of California, an important confirmation that the animals still exist. “It is excellent to see these vaquitas are well fed, plump and healthy looking,” vaquita researcher Barbara Taylor said in a press release. “This invigorates the resolve for Mexico to protect their species.”

vaquita
Recently sighted vaquita porpoises. Photo: Jay Barlow, courtesy Sea Shepherd Conservation Society

Next, 600 Mexican antipoaching troops are scheduled to arrive in the region soon to enforce a “zero tolerance” fishing policy in the vaquita’s habitat.

But those troops may find themselves in the midst of a renewed struggle with local fishermen. Mexico has paid shrimp fishermen to stay out of vaquita habitat since 2015, but those compensation funds reportedly stopped arriving last December, after President Andrés Manuel López Obrador took office. With fishermen now struggling to feed their families, their leaders say fleets could resume operation any day. “We know about the vaquita, and we’ve done what we can, but we have needs and we have to work,” Lorenzo Garcia, president of the region’s largest fishermen’s federation, told Fronteras.

Even with the imminent arrival of Mexican soldiers, the resumption of gillnet shrimp fishing in the Gulf of California represents a major shift in vaquita conservation efforts. Will it push the tiny porpoises closer to disappearing? The world will be watching.

Four Ways Alaska’s Unending Warming Impacts Everyone

As remote Alaska warms and melts, it kicks off changes that will affect global systems and worsen climate change.

Here in my home state of Alaska, our long summer of record-breaking heat has finally come to a close. Even now, though, temperatures across the state remain well above average, with September representing yet another warmest-month-on-record in several locations.

alaska record temperatures
Alaska record temperatures documented on July 8, 2019. NASA Earth Observatory images by Lauren Dauphin.

But as Alaska’s temperatures begin to drop with the arrival of autumn, so, too does the national attention that fires and heatwaves briefly brought to the state. News outlets have moved on to other climate-related stories such as the fires in the Amazon and the aftermath of Hurricane Dorian. In the process they’ve missed the bigger picture: Rapid warming in Alaska remains among the most troubling disruptions of the global climate.

In fact, experts tell us, the warming underway in “the last frontier” isn’t just a local phenomenon. It’s deepening the global climate crisis.

Melting Sea Ice Accelerates Warming…and May Disrupt Global Weather Patterns

While Alaska’s record 90-degree temperatures captured national headlines this past summer, fewer media outlets noticed the epic loss of sea ice along the state’s western and northern coasts. This melting occurred most rapidly in the Bering Sea, which lies between northwestern Alaska and Russia.

Sea ice here is the frozen ocean water that borders Alaska and adjoins the polar ice cap. It has been declining for years, but 2019 brought extraordinary melting that began in February, months ahead of norms. By August the ice had retreated over 150 miles from Alaska’s coast, an unprecedented distance that stunned long-time Arctic observers. Today, at a time when sea ice should be building back up, unusually warm air and ocean temperatures in many locations have delayed the autumn freeze.

“Temperatures in the Bering Sea are running around 5 degrees Fahrenheit above average right now,” says Brian Brettschneider, a climate researcher with the University of Alaska Fairbanks. “All that warmth needs to dissipate before ice can start forming again.”

As Brettschneider explains, delayed freezing at this time of year can set the stage for thinner sea ice throughout the winter, which can lead to earlier melting the following spring. This type of self-reinforcing process has long concerned climatologists. The temperature anomalies in the Bering also provide a striking example of the ocean warming  that a recent United Nations report said is now occurring across the globe.

The loss of ice is already upending life in the Arctic by disrupting traditional access to fishing and hunting grounds, threatening coastal communities with erosion and increasing the potency of Arctic storms.

But bigger threats may lie ahead — scientists also believe disappearing sea ice is messing with global weather patterns, potentially increasing the ferocity of hurricanes and heat waves. As ice disappears, the temperature gradient decreases between the planet’s cold north and warmer southern regions. This evening-out of global temperatures has already started changing global wind patterns and climate scientists say it may contribute to the stalling of recent Atlantic hurricanes, including Harvey, Florence and the phenomenally destructive Dorian.

Meanwhile scientists have also attributed deep “wobbles” in the jet stream to Arctic warming. These “wobbles” may be intensifying heat waves like the one that brought dangerous 108-degree heat to Paris this summer.

Increasing Wildfires Torch the “Legacy Carbon” of Northern Forests

For many Alaskans 2019 was the summer of smoke.

In August wildfire smoke gave Anchorage the worst air quality of any U.S. city. Even in September, a month past the historical end of Alaska’s fire season, we still experienced road and school closures, evacuations, smoke and loss of property.

“For Alaska, the length of this year’s fire season was the stand-out part of the story,” says Brettschneider.

While the 2.5 million acres that burned in Alaska this year didn’t represent a state record, they still contributed to a record-setting fire season across the circumpolar North, with particularly large fires burning in Siberia. Researchers say the fires are part of a trend toward more frequent and severe Arctic blazes and a steadily lengthening fire season.

Arctic fires
Arctic fires spread smoke over Alaska on July 8, 2019. NASA Earth Observatory image by Lauren Dauphin

Alaska’s increasing wildfires matter globally for two entwined reasons. First, the millions of acres that now burn across the North pump carbon into the atmosphere, increasing global heating. In June alone Arctic fires released 50 megatons of carbon dioxide, more than the total annual carbon output of Sweden.

The kind of carbon being released also makes a difference. Arctic fires burn shrubs, tundra and extensive boreal forest. These types of areas contain up to 40 percent of the world’s land-based carbon, comprised of leaves, plants, roots and residue from previous fires, all lying in near-surface soils. But today’s hotter fires are burning this “legacy carbon,” a term researchers recently applied to carbon that has been safely sequestered for centuries. As this happens, a once reliable carbon sink becomes a source of carbon pollution.

Additionally, the increase in fire shortens boreal-forest burn cycles. Fires happen more often, burning down old trees and giving new trees less time to mature between conflagrations. As a result, forest composition has started transitioning away from old trees capable of storing more carbon to younger trees that store less. This shifting carbon balance, along with other factors such as thawing permafrost, may undermine the carbon-reduction goals that nations around the world have set under the Paris climate accord.

Alaska’s Melting Glaciers Raise Global Sea Levels

Receding glaciers have been a fact of life for my nearly 30 years in Alaska, but nothing I’ve seen compares to this past summer. Early in the season our glaciers lost their protective layer of winter snow, exposing bare ice to months of hot sunshine. This resulted in a hemorrhaging of meltwater that kept rivers roiling with the silty water of melting glaciers, even through a period of record drought.

“This is the continuation of a story that has been ongoing for several decades,” says Twila Moon, a research scientist with the National Snow and Ice Data Center at the University of Colorado Boulder.

melting glacier
The Yakutat Icefield in southeast Alaska is considered by glaciologists to be among the “walking dead.” Photo: Maria-José Viñas/NASA

Moon explains that the comparatively low latitude of Alaska’s glaciers has made them vulnerable to melting for many years and that the amount of melting is a significant contributor to global sea-level rise.

Three studies published this year highlight the point. In one, an international research team estimated that the world’s mountain glaciers, which do not include the ice sheets of Greenland and Antarctica, lost a hard-to-fathom 9,000 billion tons of ice over the past 50 years. Researchers further estimated that melting of mountain glaciers, which only constitute about 4 percent of land ice worldwide, fueled up to 30 percent of global sea-level rise throughout the 20th century. They pegged Alaska’s glaciers as the largest single contributor to the melting among the world’s mountain glaciers.

Another study of mountain glaciers predicted that, at current levels of fossil fuel use, Alaska would lose up to 50 percent of its remaining glacier ice in the coming decades, continuing the state’s role as the leading source of melting outside of Greenland and Antarctica. The study predicts another 10 inches of global sea-level rise from mountain glaciers alone — enough to drown low-lying coastal areas from Florida to Bangladesh.

A third study suggests scientists may still underestimate the speed of melting glaciers. By using underwater sonar surveys of Alaska’s LeConte Glacier, researchers discovered melt rates more than two orders of magnitude greater than previously predicted. If the findings test positively elsewhere, this type of melting may boost the estimated contribution of glaciers to rising seas.

The studies put tangible numbers on just how much sea-level rise is a result of Alaska’s famously melting glaciers. Perhaps the most worrisome of all climate change impacts, rising seas threaten to displace hundreds of millions of people from coastlines across the world, sparking famine, conflict and other human migration crises.

Thawing Permafrost and the Carbon Bomb

Slumping roads, sinking buildings, “drunken” forests comprised of leaning or toppled trees — if you live in Alaska, you know these as telltale signs of thawing permafrost.

Lowly permafrost is an often-unsung hero of carbon storage. Frozen in place by millennia of long, frigid winters, it consists of deep layers of leaves, bones, soil, mammoth tusks and other organic material — even caribou poop — that have accumulated in an undecomposed state over time. Scientists have long considered permafrost to be, like boreal forests, a permanent source of sequestered carbon.

Alaska’s permafrost has been thawing for decades. But sharply rising temperatures evidenced by this past summer’s heat have accelerated the change.

As Alaska climatologist Rick Thoman recently wrote on Twitter, “winters in Alaska aren’t what they used to be.”

Researchers at the University of Alaska in Fairbanks have documented permafrost warming enough to push near-surface soils above the freezing mark, even in deep winter. Researchers from Canada to Greenland to Siberia have observed similar warming.

In Alaska the thawing causes erosion that damages roads and other infrastructure and even threatens the survival of entire communities.

But the effects will also be felt on the global scale. The widespread decomposition triggered by this thawing threatens to release massive amounts of methane, a greenhouse gas many times more potent than carbon dioxide. Scientists estimate this so-called “carbon bomb” could eclipse the annual emissions of China, the world’s largest polluter, and further undermine global efforts to reduce carbon.

frozen methane
Frozen methane captured in ice. Photo: Miriam Jones/USGS.

It would also pose a staggering financial burden. Researchers earlier this summer estimated thawing permafrost will add $70 trillion to the global cost of climate change, an expense that will be borne most by the world’s poorest people.

Alaska’s Warming Is Also the World’s

The rapid warming of Alaska has become a global spectacle, and experts tell us that its impacts will be felt around the world in the years ahead.

In part that’s due to the self-reinforcing nature of the processes now underway, where less sea ice begets less sea ice, more fire leads to more fire, and thawing permafrost jeopardizes the remaining permafrost.

It’s also due to the nature of the Arctic, which scientists increasingly see as a vital source of cooling for the entire planet. As that system destabilizes, livable climates elsewhere are put at risk.

But maybe all of that warming has inspired something, too. As research scientist Twila Moon observes, the public now appears more aware of the important roles played by glaciers and how their melting impacts drinking water supplies, agriculture, global sea-level rise and more.

“I’m really heartened about the increased awareness about climate change,” she says.

But Moon also cautions that there’s still a long way to go in terms of both awareness and action — not just in Alaska, but around the planet.

“We’re not at the level we need to be, given how fast the change is occurring,” she says.

For Indigenous Women, More Pipelines Mean More Threats of Sexual Violence

Tribal activists fear that permits to move the Keystone XL forward will bring not just economic and environmental impacts.

Later this month, the South Dakota Water Management Board will be holding five hearings on water permits needed for the Keystone XL pipeline expansion, which will cross several rivers as it makes its way from the tar sands in Alberta to Steele City, Nebraska. If the pipeline expansion is approved — it’s been on hold for nearly a decade — it will affect several tribal and First Nations communities along its route. Tribal activists fear this will bring not only economic and environmental impacts, but also sexual violence.

Angeline Cheek, a community advocate on the Fort Peck Reservation in Northeastern Montana, is vehemently opposed to the extension. As proposed, Keystone XL would cross just a few miles from the western side of the reservation. On the eastern side, across the North Dakota border, are the Bakken oil fields.

vigil
A vigil for murdered and missing Indigenous women in 2015. Photo by Thien V., Howl Arts Collective (CC BY 2.0)

Cheek’s organization provides workshops and information to reservation residents on the dangers of man camps in the Bakken area. Man camps are large company-owned housing units that people who come to work in the oil fields can move into.

With the Bakken oil boom, these man camps have increased in the region. Population growth because of an extractive industry leads to a surge of individuals — mostly men — who are paid well and living temporarily in rural areas they aren’t otherwise connected to. Since the boom, violent crimesex trafficking, and rape cases have increased, according to tribal police and local activists.

Cheek and a group of advocates — whose motto is “no fear” — have also created a safety plan with input from the community in anticipation of these impacts. Part of the proposed plan is a text- and call-based early warning system to alert community members of missing people; AMBER alert is only for children.

Though the group has received support from some tribal programs and the broader community, tribal leadership has not signed onto the community safety plan. “I have relatives here who I don’t want to go missing,” Cheek said. “The tribe needs to start thinking ahead. …The tribe should be doing the work I’m doing. They should be thinking of preventative ways to keep the community safe.”

National attention turned to the Bakken in 2012, when Sherry Arnold, a white teacher, was raped and murdered by two men who came to the Bakken in search of work. Yet many Native victims don’t receive this kind of support,  Cheek said. “When something happens to an Indigenous person, to a Native person, why isn’t that being heard? We’re just another number.”

The Sovereign Bodies Institute’s MMIW Database — the only comprehensive, up-to-date database tracking missing and murdered Indigenous women in the U.S. and Canada — details 529 cases of missing and murdered Indigenous women in Montana, North Dakota, South Dakota, and Nebraska, the states which Keystone XL will traverse. Nearly 80 percent of these cases are unsolved or no perpetrators have been found, and 30 percent are active missing persons cases. One of those women is Olivia Lone Bear, whose body was found nine months after she went missing from the Fort Berthold Reservation in the heart of the Bakken in October 2017. Some fear these numbers will increase if more man camps come to the Great Plains region.

Line of trailers
A man camp in the Bakken shale in 2013. (Photo by Tara Lohan)

The Canadian government has begun to recognize the connection between the extractive industry and violence against Native women. In June of this year, Canada’s National Inquiry into Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women and Girls released a 1,200-page report concluding three years of community hearings, story gathering, and forensic research. The report showed a strong link between extraction zones on the missing and murdered women crisis in Canada. It specifically cited rotational shift work, sexual harassment in the workplace, substance abuse, economic insecurity, and a largely transient workforce as contributing to increased violence against Native women in communities near fossil fuel infrastructure.

Also, as an Amnesty International report notes, transient workers are often not counted in census numbers, leading to overwhelmed public services. According to the report, in British Columbia, “frontline service providers supporting marginalized individuals, such as women’s shelters and food banks, describe a situation of constant crisis, as needs outpace their capacity to respond.”

What’s worse, in the U.S., tribal communities often don’t have jurisdiction to respond to the increase in crimes. The Major Crimes Act of 1885 largely limited what crimes tribal courts can prosecute, and Oliphant vs. Suquamish in 1978 asserted that tribal courts cannot prosecute non-Native offenders, even those who live on tribal lands. When the Violence Against Women Act was last reauthorized in 2013, it expanded tribal jurisdiction to include some cases related to domestic violence, dating violence, and violation of protection orders. But it didn’t expand tribal jurisdiction to include sex trafficking or many other forms of sexual violence.

“One of the immediate fixes we’re pushing for is reauthorization of VAWA,” said Annita Lucchesi, executive director of the Sovereign Bodies Institute. The new version of the law would expand tribal jurisdiction to cover sexual violence, sex trafficking and stalking, among other changes.

In areas where tribes don’t have jurisdiction, either FBI or county sheriffs are supposed to provide support, depending on the state. But that doesn’t always happen. “What we’re seeing is that county sheriffs in [some] states and FBI in other areas are understaffed and underfunded,” Lucchesi says. This has real impacts. According to a Government Accountability Office report, federal prosecutors between 2005 and 2009 declined to prosecute 67 percent of the 2,500 cases in Indian Country involving sexual violence that were referred to them.

If tribes can’t hold individuals accountable for violence, what about the companies themselves? “I think companies have a responsibility to ensure that they’re holding their workers to a high standard of conduct on and off the job, especially if they’re living in company housing like man camps,” Lucchesi said. “And I think that they have a responsibility for public safety.”

Cheek agrees, and also thinks that the Department of Justice and local law enforcement can do more to protect their communities, including sharing data on crime. “They have the research, how come they aren’t letting the reservation know? How come they aren’t working with the reservations to develop safety plans?”

Though Native activists and communities often recognize and call out the connection between violence in their communities and the intrusion of extractive industries, mainstream environmental justice movements and gender-based violence initiatives often don’t overlap. As expansion of oil pipelines continues — like Keystone XL and Trans Mountain in Canada — activists remain vigilant about their impacts on the communities around them.

Resource extraction impacts more than just the economy and the environment. It can endanger the lives of Native women, as communities in Canada and North Dakota have already experienced. “It creates this culture of using and abuse,” Lucchesi says. “If you can use and abuse the water and land, you can use and abuse the people around you too.”

This story was reprinted from Yes! Magazine.

The Story of Plastic: New Film Exposes the Source of Our Plastic Crisis

The documentary looks at how to turn the tide on petrochemical companies that are driving a boom in plastic production — just when we don’t need it most.

Prigi Arisandi, who founded the environmental group Ecological Observation and Wetlands Conservation, picks through a heap of worn plastic packaging in Mojokerto, Indonesia. Reading the labels, he calls out where the trash originated: the United States, Australia, New Zealand, United Kingdom, Canada. The logos range from Nestlé to Bob’s Red Mill, Starbucks to Dunkin Donuts.

The trash of rich nations has become the burden of poorer countries.

It’s one of dozens of moving scenes in a new feature-length documentary called The Story of Plastic, directed by Deia Schlosberg​ and presented by ​The Story Of Stuff Project​, the organization first known for its punchy digital shorts about consumption and environmental issues.

We all know by now that plastic waste is a problem — it’s washing ashore on beaches, swirling in giant ocean eddies, gumming up the insides of whales and seabirds, and embedding itself in the farthest reaches of the planet. But most media coverage focuses on the end of the line — where plastics end up — and not where they came from or why.

The Story of Plastic fills that void.

The film, which made its world premiere on Sunday, takes viewers on a global journey to Pennsylvania, Texas, California, the Philippines, Indonesia, China and India, among other places. It’s a trek through the supply chain that begins with fracked natural gas in the United States and ends with literal mountains of plastic waste on the other side of the world.

“I don’t think most people know that if you want it to stop plastic from going into the ocean in Indonesia you need to ban fracking in the Ohio River valley,” Stiv Wilson, the film’s executive producer, told The Revelator in an interview earlier this year. “So our intention with the film is to show the entire system of plastic and that includes every stage and also that upstream the human health concerns are way more significant than eating fish that’s eaten plastic — living next to a refinery for plastics is going to be far more dangerous.”

The film exposes the flawed and failed prophecy of recycling, which works well for glass and metals but fails miserably at dealing with plastics. Only 14 percent of plastics are recycled and only 2 percent effectively, the film explains. Most plastics degrade when recycled and don’t end up made into something as useful the second time around.

Heaps of useless plastic are then shipped abroad to countries like China, Indonesia and India, where much of it ends up polluting waterways and endangering drinking water and wildlife. Or it’s burned next to communities and farms. Local people are left to deal with the health implications — respiratory problems, skin rashes, shorter life expectancy, cancer.

All of that makes it a “life and death issue for most people — at least in this part of the world,” says Von Hernandez in the film. He works with the global collective Break Free From Plastic in the Philippines, where a local fisherman reports that these days, plastic makes up 40 percent of his catch.

As the film hops around the globe it relies on the voices of people working in their communities toward solutions to the plastic pollution problem. Shibu K. Nair, a zero-waste champion in India, has one of the most poignant lines. The “entire economy we have around recycling is possible because we have poverty,” he says. Waste pickers, mostly marginalized women, work for low cost.

But even this exploitative economy is starting to unravel as more and more countries follow China’s lead in refusing to take the waste of wealthier nations, and as more and more local groups unite internationally to tackle the problem at the source.

One of the key narratives of The Story of Plastic is tracking the timeline and talking points of the petrochemical industry, which produces some 400 million metric tons of plastic each year. And since 99 percent of plastic is fossil fuels, the folks behind plastics are the same as those digging for oil and gas: Exxon, Shell, Conoco Philipps, Dow Dupont.

We see how they cleverly market their products, push for personal responsibility in the face of corporate malfeasance, cheerlead for doomed taxpayer-funded recycling programs, and dole out piddling contributions for beach cleanups. All the while, they’re distracting the public from the true answer: the fact that we don’t need so much plastic crap.

While the industry pushes its plastic products as lifesaving (like medical devices and bike helmets), the bulk of it is stuff we didn’t have a few decades ago and don’t need now — things like plastic straws and single-serving packets of soy sauce. “We only use them once and they stay forever,” Tiza Mafira, a policy expert and lawyer in Jakarta, says in the film. “They’re not something that we need as an essential part of our lives and yet here we are — stuck with it.”

Watching The Story of Plastic is liable to make you take a (likely shameful) look at the ubiquitous presence of plastic in your own life. But the film’s message isn’t for each of us to ditch straws — the problem is far too systemic for that. Rather it’s a call for producer responsibility. Ramping up fossil fuel production, as the petrochemical industry’s doing right now, is the last thing we need as we attempt to manage our climate crisis. Companies instead need to design their products with a plan for how they will be reused, composted or effectively recycled. And we need to focus way more on reducing and reusing.

“The industry is out there pushing the idea that this is all because of bad management — that the waste is here because the government isn’t putting enough funding into proper waste management,” says Mafira. “But they’re distracting from the truth, which is that there’s no way you can manage this waste — it’s not meant to be managed.”

She adds, “I think we should ban together and have a serious discussion on a global scale because these companies are operating on a global scale.”

The Story of Plastic is currently making its way to film festivals around the country. Find a local screening and more information about the movie and its messages here.

Climate Change, Extinction and Other Frights: October’s Scariest Environmental Books

Who needs vampires or serial killers? These new books offer horrifying information — and thrilling solutions — on endangered species, sea-level rise, food security and corporate pollution.

“Horror,” wrote novelist and critic Douglas E. Winter, “is not a genre. It is an emotion.”

You know what else generates some horrifying emotions? Topics like climate change and extinction.

As we approach the Halloween season, let’s dive into those fears with a batch of new books about those most fright-inducing of environmental topics.

These books will scare you — honestly, you should be scared — but they also provide the information, ideas and potential solutions we need to get to a less frightening future.

In other words: We can defeat the monsters.

We’ve combed through publishers’ October catalogs and picked the nine scariest (and most informative) new environmental books coming out this month. Check out our list below and pick the best ones for your scary late-night reading.

blowoutBlowout by Rachel Maddow

The ubiquitous MSNBC host takes a deep dive into the many ways Big Oil threatens democracy around the world, most notably Russia’s interference with the 2016 U.S. presidential election (although that’s far from the only example). This must-read book gets our vote for the scariest subtitle of the month: “Corrupted Democracy, Rogue State Russia and the Richest, Most Destructive Industry on Earth.”

food or warFood or War by Julian Cribb

When people get hungry, they start to fight. When societies go hungry, they get desperate, sometimes leading to conflict, forced migration or war. Is that our future, in the world of climate change and food instability? This new book looks at issues of sustainability, identifies geographic areas of risk, examines how access to food can bring peace, and lays out a series of recommendations for the future.

lost feastLost Feast: Culinary Extinction and the Future of Food by Lenore Newman

We’ve eaten species out of existence and — like any good horror-movie monster — we can expect to repeat the pattern in the inevitable sequel. (Too bad those lost species won’t get resurrected for the next chapter.)

exposureExposure: Poisoned Water, Corporate Greed and One Lawyer’s Twenty-year Battle against DuPont by Robert Bilott

This memoir provides a harrowing account of the author’s decades-long legal battle to hold the (in)famous chemical company responsible for covering up of one of the world’s worst cases of environmental pollution. It’s a terrifying true tale. (In addition to the book, Dark Waters, a movie version of this story, starring water defender Mark Ruffalo as Bilott, opens Nov. 22.)

giraffe extinctionGiraffe Extinction: Using Science and Technology to Save the Gentle Giants by Tanya Anderson

The long-necked African icons face such an increasingly lengthy list of threats that some giraffe populations and subspecies now face the truly terrifying possibility of extinction. This new book, written for high-school-age readers, looks at the problems and introduces kids to the monster-fighters — er, scientists — leading the effort to save giraffes from disappearing.

drowning of money islandThe Drowning of Money Island by Andrew S. Lewis

Many island nations around the world fear for their future under the threat of sea-level rise. For some islands the future is already here. Money Island off the coast of New Jersey, once an economic powerhouse, now serves as a storm-ravaged example of what’s to come for islands and other coastal communities.

secrets of snakesSecrets of Snakes: The Science Beyond the Myths by David A. Steen

There’s absolutely nothing scary about this book…unless you have a snake phobia. But even then, Steen’s fun and informative tome will do much to calm those fears.

erosionErosion: Essays of Undoing by Terry Tempest Williams

Land can erode, but so can a sense of self and a belief in our collective needs. Is that what’s happening to our country, and to the protections afforded to our vital public lands? The award-winning author (a board member of the Center for Biological Diversity, publisher of The Revelator) examines the state of the country, our political establishments and her own life. This book captures a lot of fearful emotions and realities, but it counters them with beautiful writing, insightful commentary, and a sense of solace and spirituality that comes from life in nature.

gospel climate The Gospel of Climate Skepticism: Why Evangelical Christians Oppose Action on Climate Change by Robin Globus Veldman

Why aren’t supposedly God-fearing people more terrified about the dangers of global warming? This book upends previous theories that linked their skepticism to anti-science attitudes or apocalyptic beliefs. Instead it reveals how, over the past few decades, evangelical religious leaders and media outlets have selectively used the Bible to inaccurately portray climate science as an attack against religion and a way of life. Scary stuff!


That’s our list for this month, but don’t stop here: You can find dozens of other far less horrific eco-books in the “Revelator Reads” archive.

Trump’s Decision to Hamstring California’s Climate Authority Is Illogical and Uninformed

Revoking California’s ability to set stricter air-pollution standards also misses three important benefits to California and the nation.

For five decades California and the federal government have worked together in an innovative exercise in federalism aimed at achieving cleaner air. California has played an important role in controlling greenhouse gas emissions that contribute to climate change, particularly from motor vehicles.

But now, contrary to law and in a massive departure from past practice, President Donald Trump has announced that his administration is pulling the rug out from under California’s feet by divesting it of its longstanding authority to adopt auto emission controls more stringent than the Environmental Protection Agency’s.

The action, implemented jointly by the EPA and the National Highway Traffic Administration, couldn’t come at a worse time. Less than a year ago, the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change called “ambitious mitigation actions” indispensable to limiting warming to 1.5 degrees Celsius and avoiding the most disruptive and potentially irreversible effects of climate change.

California, supported by more than 20 other states, is already challenging the administration in court. But if the administration’s effort succeeds, the world will be deprived of California’s vital leadership, and the Trump administration will have shelved another important tool for combatting climate change.

Because of the severity of California’s pollution problems and the state’s early environmental leadership, the Clean Air Act specifically allows the state to apply for a waiver of the prohibition on state auto-emission standards more stringent than the federal government’s. California has sought waivers more than 100 times, and with one short-lived exception, EPA has granted every request — precisely as the law anticipated. Once EPA grants a waiver, any other state may follow California’s ambitious lead by adopting its standards.

The result is that more than a dozen states follow California’s more stringent standards, which is why many cars sold outside the state bear a sticker that says the car has met California’s standards. The auto industry has long since adjusted to these dual standards, not wanting to ignore such a huge market for its products.

But the president’s announcement amounts to a sharp deviation from established bipartisan practice by first revoking previously approved waivers for California, purportedly to achieve nationally uniform emission controls and eliminate “duplicative” regulation. This is likely to be followed by the adoption of rules that backtrack on the Obama EPA’s push to reduce greenhouse gas auto emissions — creating a double whammy in the fight against climate change.

In addition to being of questionable legality, EPA’s decision completely overlooks the most important advantages of the current system, as well as the waiver revocation’s significant downsides. To be sure, centralization may promote uniformity, and reducing overlapping authority may modestly decrease some administrative costs.

But the EPA’s analysis completely ignores the considerable downsides of revoking California’s authority both for the state and the entire nation. By granting a measure of standard-setting authority to California, the Clean Air Act neatly balances three important dimensions of regulatory authority which, unfortunately, are often misunderstood and conflated.

First, by granting authority to both the EPA and California, the Clean Air Act decentralizes power over standards, thus encouraging the states to act as “laboratories of democracy” that can test out regulatory approaches and standards which, if successful, can be adopted by other states and the federal government. And indeed, more than a dozen states have followed California’s lead.

On the other hand, by allowing only two sets of standards — the EPA’s and California’s — the law prevents automakers from being subjected to a welter of conflicting standards and overregulation that might prevent them from manufacturing cars to varying regulatory specifications. With two standards in place, both commanding significant market share, the auto companies are eager and able to manufacture and sell their products.

Second, by requiring that the EPA review and approve California’s waiver requests, the law requires some coordination, fostering efficient pooling of expertise and resources between the two levels of government.

But it also cultivates innovation by ensuring that California can act relatively independently of the EPA as long as it can show, as it has more than 100 times already, a compelling need for more stringent regulation. California’s persistent air-pollution problems provide plain evidence of such a compelling need. The allocation has allowed the state to engage in innovative regulation, such as its trailblazing requirements that automakers market low or zero-emission vehicles in the state. In fact several large automakers recently agreed to conform to the state’s ambitious greenhouse gas controls, notwithstanding the EPA’s effort to bury them.

Third, the waiver repeal ignores how the law’s modest overlap in authority creates a safety net and guards against undue industry control of regulatory agencies — a manifestation of “agency capture” by industry that is all too rampant under the Trump administration. As we describe in our book Reorganizing Government, distinguishing these discrete dimensions of authority and weighing the different tradeoffs involved are the keys to designing effective governance, but the EPA completely misses these considerations.

From a governance perspective, the agency’s revocation promises to wreak havoc with the Clean Air Act’s careful balancing of the tradeoffs associated with alternative regulatory allocations. From an environmental perspective, it would gut the strongest set of auto emissions standards in the nation, standards in use in more than a dozen states. And it sacrifices those standards for no better reason than to satisfy the administration’s unquenchable thirst for deregulatory pelts to put on display.

Right now we need to embrace bold efforts to reduce greenhouse gas emissions — California’s innovation and leadership must be fostered, not squelched.

Congress should restore California’s emission-control authority to preserve a powerful weapon in the fight against climate change and deadly air pollution.

The opinions expressed above are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect those of The Revelator, the Center for Biological Diversity or their employees.

We’re Just Starting to Learn How Fracking Harms Wildlife

Mounting evidence proves that natural-gas and oil extraction threatens wildlife and ecosystems — much as it harms human health.

In January 2015 North Dakota experienced one of the worst environmental disasters in its history: A pipeline burst, spilling nearly 3 million gallons of briny, saltwater waste from nearby oil-drilling operations into two creek beds. The wastewater, which flowed all the way to the Missouri River, contained chloride concentrations high enough to kill any wildlife that encountered it.

It wasn’t the first such disaster in the state. In 2006 a spill of close to 1 million gallons of fracking wastewater into the Yellowstone River resulted in a mass die-off of fish and plants. Cleanup of that spill was still ongoing at the time of the 2015 spill, nearly a decade later.

Spills like these highlight the dangers that come with unconventional fossil-fuel extraction techniques that go after hard-to-reach pockets of oil and gas using practices like horizontal drilling and high-volume hydraulic fracturing (otherwise known as fracking).

But events like these massive spills are just the tip of the iceberg. Other risks to wildlife can be more contained, subtle or hidden.

And while many of the after-effects of fracking have grabbed headlines for years — such as contaminated drinking water, earthquakes and even flammable faucets — the consequences for wildlife have so far been left out of the national conversation.

But those consequences are very real for a vast suite of animals including mussels, birds, fish, caribou and even fleas, and they’re as varied as the species themselves. In some places wildlife pays the price when habitat is destroyed. Elsewhere the damage occurs when water is sucked away or polluted. Still other species can’t take the traffic, noise and dust that accompany extraction operations.

All this damage makes sense when you think about fracking’s outsized footprint.

It starts with the land cleared for the well pad, followed by sucking large volumes of water (between 1.5 and 16 million gallons per well) out of rivers, streams or groundwater.

Fracking Doddridge, West Va.
Fracking trucks and equipment in Doddridge Co, West Va. (Photo by Tara Lohan)

Then there’s the sand that’s mined for use during the fracturing of underground rock to release natural gas or oil. There are also new pipelines, compressor stations and other related infrastructure that need to be constructed. And there’s the truck traffic that surges during operations, or the disposal of fracking wastewater, either in streams or underground.

The cumulative footprint of a single new well can be as large as 30 acres. In places where hundreds or thousands of wells spring up across a landscape, it’s easy to imagine the toll on wildlife — and even cases with ecosystem-wide implications.

“Studies show that there are multiple pathways to wildlife being harmed,” says ecologist Sandra Steingraber, a distinguished scholar in residence at Ithaca College who has worked for a decade compiling research on the health effects of fracking. “Biodiversity is a determinant of public health — without these wild animals doing ecosystem services for us, we can’t survive.”

Losing Ground

The most obvious threats fracking poses to wildlife comes in the form of habitat loss.

As rural areas become industrialized with each new well pad and its associated infrastructure, vital habitat for wildlife is altered or destroyed.

Fields with well pads
Habitat fragmentation in North Dakota’s Bakken shale. (Photo by Tara Lohan)

And it’s not just the area containing the well. The land or water just outside of the operation, known as “edge habitat,” also degrades with an increase in the spread of invasive plant species, among other concerns.

And large-scale development, such as miles-long pipelines, can change the way species move and hunt, often resulting in an increase in predation. The oil and gas development in Alberta, Canada, for example, created “wolf highways” that gave the predators easy access to an endangered herd of woodland caribou.

Roads, another kind of fragmentation, can be particularly dangerous for wildlife. A single fracked well can be responsible for 3,300 one-way truck trips during its operational lifespan, and each journey can injure or kill wildlife large and small. After all, it’s hard to get out of the way of a tanker truck carrying 80,000 pounds of sand.

And then there’s the big picture. Drilling within large, “core” forest areas previously located far from human development can be permanently detrimental for species such as migratory songbirds.

In one study, published in Biological Conservation in 2016, researchers examined the effects of unconventional gas drilling on forest habits and populations of birds in an area of West Virginia overlaying the Marcellus and Utica shales. The area has been at the center of the shale gas boom, with the number of unconventional wells in central Appalachia jumping from 111 in 2005 to 14,022 by the end of 2015. The study found that shale-gas development there during that period resulted in a 12.4 percent loss of core forest and increased edge habitat by more than 50 percent — and that, in turn, changed the communities of birds found in the forest.

The areas near well pads experienced an overall decline in “forest specialists” — birds that prefer interior forest habitat, among them the hooded warbler and Kentucky warbler, which are of high conservation priority, as well as cerulean warblers. These sky-blue endangered migratory songbirds have been dropping in numbers for decades, but researchers noted that the decline was 15 percent higher in their study area than in the greater Appalachian Mountains region during the same period.

Kentucky warbler
Kentucky warblers prefer large core forest habitat and researchers have found they decline in numbers around shale gas development. (Photo by Andrew Weitzel, CC BY-SA 2.0)

“For migratory songbirds, large blocks of forest are very important,” explains Margaret C. Brittingham, a professor of wildlife resources at Penn State University who has studied the effects of fracking on wildlife. The birds do best in interior forest habitat with mature trees. They also serve as an important part of the forest ecosystem, helping to prevent or suppress insect outbreaks that can damage trees. “They’re co-evolved with the forest, feeding on insects and keeping those forests healthy,” she says.

Not all species declined in numbers from fracking development. The study found an increase in the kinds of birds that do well among humans and in developed areas — “habitat generalists” such as the American robin, blue jay and brown-headed cowbird, the latter of which are notorious brood parasites  that leave their eggs in nests of other birds.

“I think the most alarming thing about all of this is what bird declines may indicate about the declining health of overall ecosystems,” says Laura Farwell, a postdoctoral research associate in the department of Forest and Wildlife Ecology at the University of Wisconsin-Madison and lead author of the Biological Conservation study. “I know it’s a cliché, but forest interior birds truly are ‘canaries in the coal mine’ for Appalachian forests experiencing rapid loss and fragmentation.”

Farwell adds that many other kinds of development contribute to habitat loss that result in biodiversity declines. Fracking is one more added pressure, but the consequences are quite significant.

“It just happens to be disproportionately affecting some of the largest remaining areas of undisturbed, mature forest left in the eastern U.S., and these forests are incredibly valuable for biodiversity,” she says.

Out West the industry is carving up a different kind of habitat, and that has other species on the ropes. Greater sage grouse, for example, depend on large home ranges composed of intact areas of sagebrush. Cattle ranching and development of all kinds have pushed the grouse near extinction, and continued unbridled oil and gas extraction in its remaining habitat could tip it over the edge.

A 2014 study co-authored by Brittingham found that oil and gas infrastructure and related disturbances to sage grouse can cause the birds’ populations to decline — or even disappear in areas with particularly high levels of oil and gas development.

Sage grouse have also been shown to exhibit high levels of stress from noise.

Noise poses additional risks for birds that depend on their hearing. A study published in Biological Conservation in 2016 found that noise from compressor stations, which run 24 hours a day, reduced the ability of northern saw-whet owls to catch prey. The researchers found that for owls and other “acoustically specialized predators,” noise can cause significant negative impacts on behavior, like a decreased ability to hunt, and that can ripple through the ecosystem.

drilling light
Lights on a drilling site in West Virginia can affect nocturnal wildlife. (Photo by Tara Lohan)

Light, too, can be a problem. Oil and gas operations in some places have turned once-dark rural areas into blazing mini-cities in quick time. A 2012 photo revealed that gas burned off from wells in North Dakota’s Bakken Shale was so bright it was visible from space — something not seen just six years before. Light pollution like this can be deadly for migratory birds and disrupt other nocturnal animals.

It’s in the Water

The fracking process uses a lot of water and much of that contaminated H2O returns to the surface, bringing with it heavy metals, radioactivity, toxic chemicals (many of which are industry trade secrets) and high levels of salinity. Disposing of all that wastewater has created headaches for the industry and in some cases it’s now proving to endanger wildlife.

Spills or intentional dumping of wastewater or fracking fluid released 180 million gallons into the environment between 2009 and 2014, according to an investigation by the Associated Press. Unsafe levels of some contaminants have been found to persist for years, as was the case in North Dakota.

Not all spills and intentional releases of wastewater in streams create noticeable impacts like fish going belly up — some are more subtle and harder to see — but they may still take a real toll on aquatic life.

A 2019 study in Ecotoxicology and Environmental Safety looked at what happens when crustaceans called water fleas encounter a fracking-fluid spill. Researchers found that even when the fluids were diluted in a stream, their high salinity could decrease insect mobility and survival. The Canadian province of Alberta, the researchers noted, has recorded 100 such large-volume spills.

Lowly water fleas — in this case a species called Daphnia magna — may not seem like animals we should worry about, but like so many small creatures, they occupy an important niche.

“They are the basis of the freshwater ecosystem,” Steingraber explains. “When the water fleas are gone, the guys that feed on them are gone — frogs and fish die, and those that feed on them die and suddenly you have a biodiversity problem because you’ve knocked out a species at the bottom of the aquatic food chain.”

Some of this may already be playing out in other locations. A 2016 study published in Ecotoxicology that found a decrease in biodiversity of macroinvertebrates in Pennsylvania streams where fracking was occurring in the watershed — and, even worse, “no fish or no fish diversity at streams with documented frackwater fluid spills.” In some cases streams that once contained large numbers of brook trout had none left. The researchers concluded that “fracking has the potential to alter aquatic biodiversity…at the base of food webs.”

brook trout
Brook trout have disappeared from some streams in central Appalachia following fracking spills. (Photo by USFWS)

Elsewhere, it’s possible that contamination of surface waters has already taken a toll on the Louisiana waterthrush (Parkesia motacilla), a bird that breeds along forest headwater streams and feeds on macroinvertebrates. A 2015 study published in Ecosphere found that shale gas development had negative effects on the nest survival and productivity of waterthrushes and the researchers posited that “indirect effects on stream and terrestrial food webs from possible contamination” by the oil and gas industry could be to blame.

The research, which looked at sites in both the Marcellus and Fayetteville shale regions, showed that the birds’ feathers contained elevated levels of barium and strontium — two heavy metals associated with the drilling process — in areas where fracking had taken place. Much like when lead shows up in a human’s hair, the presence of these metals in the birds’ feathers is a sign that contaminants in the environment are making their way into animals’ bodies.

And that raises even bigger concerns.

As the researchers concluded in their paper: “Our finding of significantly higher levels of barium and strontium also suggests the possibility of surface water contamination by any of the hundreds of chemicals that may be used in hydraulic fracturing, including friction reducers, acids, biocides, corrosion and scale inhibitors, pH adjusting agents and surfactants.”

 A similar line of inquiry is being pursued by other researchers. Nathaniel Warner, a professor of civil and environmental engineering at Penn State University, has been using the shells of freshwater mussels to read the changes in water chemistry in Pennsylvania’s Allegheny River. Mussels record environmental conditions in their shells each year — much like tree rings.

Warner and his colleagues have also found elevated levels of strontium in the shells of mussels living downstream from a site where treated fracking wastewater was discharged. Strontium, which is found in high concentrations in oil and gas wastewaters, is a naturally occurring metal with some medical benefits but which in large exposures can cause bone loss and other side effects.

But Warner says they are still trying to determine what the impacts are for mussels and aquatic ecosystems — not to mention the people who get their dinner from the river.

“We haven’t really gotten to the point where we can say this is harmful or not,” he says. “We really focused on the hard shell itself. But now we’re looking more at what happens in that soft tissue because muskrats and fish don’t really eat the shell that much, but they eat the soft tissue. And so what levels of contaminants or pollution ended up in that soft tissue compared to the shell?” He says that’s probably more important for determining what this really means for wildlife or even human health.

University of Wisconsin’s Farwell says that she’d also like to see more research on what the accumulation of contaminants in the bodies of waterthrushes means for other wildlife and for humans. “Air pollution is another important issue to consider,” she adds. “I’m not aware of any current studies that have looked directly at impacts of fracking air pollution on wildlife.”

You can add these topics to the long list researchers are hoping to explore, but there will still be a lot about how fracking and other extraction technologies are affecting wildlife that we don’t know. And with natural gas still projected to be one of the fastest growing energy sources in the United States, the time to understand its impacts on wildlife grows short.

“The industry boomed at such a rapid pace, researchers and policymakers could barely keep up,” she says. “And in most cases, we don’t have baseline data at impacted sites to compare with current numbers. Unfortunately, most of us studying fracking impacts have been playing a game of catch-up since the beginning.”