Steward Pickett, introduced by Dr. William Schlesinger last Friday as a distinguished senior scientist at the Cary Institute, talked about sustainability and planning in cities. Although his area of study was Baltimore, Pickett pointed out that the trends and issues in that city are common to almost all the world’s cities.
Pickett described the evolutionary transformations cities go through. First came Baltimore the colonial port, a trading emporium; that was followed by a fast-growing industrial city needing thousands of workers and marked by population densities and water-borne diseases. In 1880 Baltimore had a 20 percent child-mortality rate. The next phase was the sanitary city, culminating in 1904 when Olmsted’s parks began an era of beautification and rebuilding after a fire. The parks became outposts for the ecological life that managed to survive. Yet it was not until 1911 that Baltimore got a sanitary sewer system.
Most of what we think we know about the 2010 Deepwater Horizon spill has issued from either BP, which still calls it an “accident,” or elements of the U.S. government, which range from the Coast Guard to the Cheney-weakened EPA to the former Minerals Management Agency. The MMA was hastily renamed the Bureau of Ocean Energy Management after it was learned, among other industry-cozy arrangements, that its sole overseer for the Deepwater Horizon and dozens of other massive drilling rigs was a single young fellow fresh out of school.
A paper recently published in Environmental Science and Technology is the first to document the resistance to Triclosan in a natural environment. Triclosan, a synthetic antibacterial invented for surgeons in the 1960s, is found in many of the products we use every day, from soap to toothpaste to deodorants to cosmetics. The study found that when Triclosan enters streams and rivers via domestic wastewater, leaky sewer infrastructure or storm overflows, resistance to it develops in the bacteria that are part of the base of aquatic food webs.
According to Cary Institute aquatic ecologist Emma Rosi-Marshall, one of the authors of the report, “The bacterial resistance caused by Triclosan has real environmental consequences. Not only does it disrupt aquatic life by changing native bacterial communities, but it’s linked to the rise of resistant bacteria that could diminish the usefulness of important antibiotics.” In short, the very bacteria we are using Triclosan to protect ourselves from are now becoming resistant themselves.
In this crazy age, characterized by blistering technological progress on one hand and faith-based reasoning on the other, it’s refreshing to find such a fine piece of science as the new United Nations report on our global climate. It’s been an agonizingly long time coming, is conservative to the point of being gun-shy, and is perhaps already two years out of date.
Some 800 volunteer climate scientists under the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change have drawn two major conclusions. First, global warming is even more irrefutable than it was in 2007. Second, the chance that global warming is human-caused is 98 percent, up from 95 percent in the prior report. That percentage among any group of reputable scientists is as close to unanimous as science gets.
Look really closely, and give yourself all the time in the world.
This is exactly what David G. Haskell, a tall, lanky biologist and research scientist at the University of the South, did recently, reacting to a career that took him deeper into the laboratory, the computer, and the classroom, and farther and farther from nature, the real origin point of science.
An especially valuable research satellite fell into a semi-coma recently, but not before giving us a discovery that some might say ranks up there between gravity and quantum mechanics.
The one-ton, aptly named Kepler*, in orbit since 2009, lost two of its four stabilizing wheels and can no longer stay steady enough to find every planet circling impossibly distant stars. But with the data analyzed so far, astronomers have tentatively identified more than 3,000 planets the size of Earth in two neighboring constellations. More than 100 of these have been confirmed as Earth-Likelike by other astronomers using independent methods. They satisfy the Goldilocks principle: neither too close nor too far from a sun but just the right distance for liquid water—the basic conditions astrobiologists think is life’s prerequisite. And there are still two years of raw Kepler data to analyze.
Following Kepler, two more “exoplanet” (extrasolar planet) seekers will be launched: One in 2017 in a wildly elongated, potentially quite stable orbit bristling with lots of telescopes to probe a million nearby stars, another that will look for planets with an atmosphere.
A recent article in which Carey Institute scientists participated showed that human activities are changing the water chemistry of many streams and rivers in the Eastern U.S. The consequences for water supplies and aquatic life may be major says a new study in the journal Environmental Science and Technology.
In the first survey of its kind, researchers looked at long-term alkalinity trends in 97 streams and rivers from Florida to New Hampshire. Sites ranged from small headwater streams to some of the nation’s largest rivers. Over the past 25 to 60 years, two-thirds have become significantly more alkaline.
Alkalinity is a measure of water’s ability to neutralize acid. In excess, it can cause ammonia toxicity and algal blooms, altering water quality and harming aquatic life. Increasing alkalinity hardens drinking water, causing pipe scaling and costly infrastructure problems. And, perhaps most alarming, it exacerbates the salinization of fresh water.