Marty Durlin
Online Editor
Recently we received a card here at High Country News, which said only this: “Dear Human Race, So sad about us.” No one had to ask what the writer meant, though possibly each of us interpreted it in a personal way. As for me, I think about the mounting evidence of human-created global climate change, and the war in Iraq, sucking resources, lives and hopes. I consider the results of our various human endeavors now coming back at us — the disappearing species, the toxic waste, the unbreathable air, the speed and insanity of the urban areas of our planet.
But what really brings it home to me is the garbage island in the Pacific. It sounds like a sci-fi story, but it’s been covered by reputable journalists and discussed by reputable scientists, so — unbelievable as it is — I’m compelled to accept it as fact.
Here’s the story: “The Great Pacific Garbage Patch,” alternatively known as “The Earth’s Eighth Continent,” is located in the Pacifica Ocean between California and Hawaii, in the North Pacific Gyre, which creates a debris-trapping vortex. The Patch is roughly twice the size of Texas, and made up primarily of human trash, about 80 percent of it plastic. It weighs about 3.5 million tons with a concentration of more than 3 million pieces of garbage per square kilometer. It reaches more than 30 meters down into the ocean. Since the 1990s, it’s tripled in size, and is predicted to grow tenfold in the next ten years.
As we know, plastic doesn’t biodegrade — instead it photo-degrades, breaking into smaller and smaller pieces which retain the original molecular composition. These tiny pieces look like food to sea birds and fish, who eat it and eventually starve to death since the plastic can’t be digested. In addition, the small pieces of plastic act as sponges for several toxins, concentrating chemicals such as DDT to 1 million times the normal level. Even in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, plastic nodules outweigh plankton by a ratio of six to one. Nearly 300 species have been reported to have eaten from, or become trapped in, the Patch.
The seas are awash in plastic, and it’s pretty clear why. Nearly every human on the planet uses plastic materials every day, starting with plastic diapers, milk bottles and toys and moving on to condoms, diaphragms and birth control containers. We drink from 34 billion newly manufactured containers annually. Some 60 billion tons of plastic products are created every year around the planet. It’s been estimated that each of us uses 190 pounds of plastic every year.
As Paul Watson notes in a piece called The Plastic Sea, even the plastic eaten by birds and fish that die and decompose on a beach is blown back into the sea, where “these vicious little inorganic parasites continue to maim and kill in an endless assault upon life in our oceans.”
What can be done? Is it not too far gone already? Shall we simply rearrange the deck chairs on the Titanic and enjoy the cruise while we can, skirting the nasty new “island”? Nobel Peace Prize co-winner Steve Running, professor at the University of Montana, says not.
Running won the Nobel for his work as one of the lead authors of the fourth assessment report issued by the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC).
He’s adapted Elisabeth Kubler-Ross’s “Five Stages of Grief” model to climate change, and he sees people going through the familiar pattern: denial, anger, bargaining, depression and finally acceptance.
This can be applied not only to our reactions to climate change, but to the damage we have done and continue to do to the planet in other ways, such as our use of plastic — just one part of our dependence on petroleum, a big part of the climate change story.
I admit to swinging between denial and acceptance, and often being bogged down, like our letter writer, in depression. But now, knowing about the Patch, I can no longer be blase about my use of plastic, nor continue to forget my cloth bags when I go to the market. One small thing done by one small person, but I can only believe it’s better than doing nothing.