TRAVERSE CITY, Mich. − When a Canadian
company floated the idea of hauling Lake Superior water aboard huge tankers to
parched sections of Asia, the reaction hereabouts resembled the fury of the
region's infamous November gales.
"Back Off Suckers," warned billboards along Michigan highways that
depicted outsiders sipping from the Great Lakes with gigantic straws.
Politicians on both sides of the border voiced outrage. Before long, the
Canadian agency that had issued a permit for the Superior shipments withdrew it.
In the six years since then, no other proposal has surfaced to ship, pipe or
otherwise divert Great Lakes water to arid places. Yet many believe such grabs
are inevitable as the global water crisis worsens. Of particular concern is the
western United States, with its surging population, demand for water -- and
political clout.
"There are threats, and they promise to increase over time," said
David Naftzger, executive director of the Council of Great Lakes Governors.
Now, the region's governments are debating how to protect the inland seas,
tributaries and connecting channels that make up 20 percent of the world's fresh
surface water.
Although vast enough to spread a 9 1/2-foot-deep sheet across the continental
United States, the lake system is heavily burdened. Nearly 40 million thirsty
people live in the region, and its $2 trillion economy features water-dependent
industries such as auto manufacturing, shipping, tourism and agriculture.
Lake levels haven't fully recovered from a dropoff several years ago caused by
drought and a warming trend. Climate change could push them even lower over the
next 30 years, scientists say.
"Despite their size, they're extremely fragile," said Cheryl Mendoza,
watershed conservation manager for the Chicago-based Lake Michigan Federation.
Three years after agreeing to regulate large-scale water withdrawals, the
Council of Great Lakes Governors released a detailed plan in July. A public
comment period ended last month, and the region's eight U.S. states and two
Canadian provinces plan to vote on a revised version next spring.
Some environmentalists praise the plan for requiring that any new diversion of
water outside the Great Lakes drainage basin meet tough conservation standards.
But critics say there's a fatal flaw: The plan concedes such diversions could
happen instead of simply prohibiting them.
Regional business groups are worried, too, because the plan would regulate major
new uses of Great Lakes water within the region itself. That could inhibit
economic growth by creating more bureaucracy and leaving companies uncertain
about future water availability, they say.
"If we want to grow and prosper, we can't lock up our water," said
George Kuper, president of the Council of Great Lakes Industries, whose members
include the likes of General Motors Corp. and Eastman Kodak Co. "We should
remember that it's a recyclable resource and focus on how to use it wisely and
efficiently."
Defenders of the plan say it's unrealistic -- and probably unconstitutional --
for people in the region to treat the lakes as a bottomless well while demanding
frugality of others.
"We should do better at living within our own means," said Emily
Green, the Great Lakes program director for the Sierra Club's Midwestern office
in Madison, Wis.
The plan is a legacy of the ill-fated Lake Superior water shipment scheme. The
Nova Group, a consulting firm in Sault Ste. Marie, Ontario, received a
provincial permit in 1998 to ship around 156 million gallons a year to Asia.
The company said the amount was such a tiny fraction of the lake's volume, it
wouldn't be missed. One official likened the effect to "putting your finger
in a bucket of water and taking it out."
But critics said letting one business treat the Great Lakes as an economic
commodity would open the floodgates to others, eventually lowering water levels
and doing serious ecological damage.
After the Nova permit was revoked, a team of water law experts warned the
governors' council the lakes were vulnerable to more attempted raids.
A 1986 federal law allows the governor of any Great Lakes state to veto an
out-of-basin diversion. But the lawyers said that measure could be struck down
in court as an illegal restraint on commerce and trade.
Other attorneys disagreed, arguing that nothing in the U.S. Constitution or
international trade pacts prevents states from protecting their water supplies.
But the governors concluded that just saying no to diversions was no longer
enough, and developed the Great Lakes Charter Annex Agreement.
Under the plan, any proposal for a new or increased out-of-basin diversion
averaging at least 1 million gallons a day over 120 days would need approval of
all eight Great Lakes states.
A higher threshold would be set for regulating new or increased withdrawals for
consumption within the basin: Those averaging at least 5 million gallons daily
over the same period would require approval of at least six states.
All such projects would have to meet standards such as doing no
"significant" environmental harm and having a conservation plan.
"The governors and premiers want to be sure we have the strongest legal
foundation we can to deal with these proposals, regardless of where they come
from," Naftzger said.
Jim Olson, an environmental attorney in Traverse City, contends that by opening
the door to even heavily regulated diversions, the plan "will leave the
Great Lakes and its citizens, businesses and tourists with less protection than
exists now."
For all the worries that water from the lakes will one day spout from Las Vegas
casino fountains, the biggest threat may be closer to home.
Water diversions already take place within the Great Lakes region itself -- and
pressure is mounting for more.
By far the biggest occurs at Chicago, which for more than a century has diverted
Lake Michigan water to its own municipal system and the Mississippi River. The
U.S. Supreme Court limited the volume to 3,200 cubic feet per second, but some
worry the city will try to boost the flow.
"If Chicago were to fully utilize their canal system now, they could lower
all the Great Lakes by up to six inches," David Ramsay, the Ontario natural
resources minister, said recently.
He said Ontario wouldn't endorse the plan unless changes are made to give the
lakes stronger protection.
Several communities that straddle or lie just outside the basin pull water from
the lakes, including Akron, Ohio, and Pleasant Prairie, Wis. Now under
consideration: allowing the rapidly growing Wisconsin city of Waukesha to pump
nearly 20 million gallons a day from Lake Michigan.
Some believe the trickle of requests for close-in diversions will become a flood
if the governors' plan goes forward. Even small projects could add up to big
losses and set a bad precedent, critics say.
"Pinholes become larger holes as time goes on," Olson said.
Others say the plan's standards are strict enough to keep diversions to a
minimum.
"I don't think we'll see this mad rush for Great Lakes water," said
Dick Bartz, water division chief with the Ohio Department of Natural Resources.
But uneasiness persists -- especially about those water-guzzling Westerners.
After all, trial balloons have been raised over the years about tapping the
Great Lakes to boost levels on the Mississippi River or replenish the Ogalalla
Aquifer beneath the Great Plains.
Then there was the idea hatched in the 1950s -- and briefly resurrected three
decades later -- to pipe water from James Bay in Canada to the Great Lakes,
which in turn would sell water to Western states. Estimated price tag: $100
billion.
Skeptics say it's no accident that such grandiose schemes have never gotten
beyond the drawing board.
"The whole idea is overblown," said Kuper, of the Council of Great
Lakes Industries. "It would cost a huge amount of money to move that much
water, and you'd have all kinds of logistical issues to deal with."
The International Joint Commission, an agency that advises the United States and
Canada on Great Lakes issues, said in a 2000 report there was "little
reason to believe that such projects will become economically, environmentally,
and socially feasible in the foreseeable future."
Don't be too sure, said Noah Hall, attorney with the National Wildlife
Federation in Ann Arbor: "You see pictures out West of golf courses and
booming cities and rivers that have dried up, and you know it's just a matter of
time."
Source: Associated Press