Mountaintop mining, more commonly known as “mountaintop removal,†ranks among the ugliest and most violent examples of man’s disrespect for nature.
Most prevalent in the Appalachian Mountains of West Virginia and eastern Kentucky, mountaintop mining became widespread in the 1980s, and involves literally blasting up to 1,000 feet from the tops of mountains to expose the rich coal seams beneath.
Why destroy the summits of mountains formed by tectonic collisions some 480 million years ago – formations dating back to the supercontinent, Pangaea — in the relative blink of an eye?
Quite simply, blowing the top off of a mountain and sorting through the debris is cheaper, faster and more profitable than subterranean coal mining. Currently half of all US electricity is generated at coal-fired plants, and the advent of new, coal-derived fuels and the push for “clean-coal technology,†will only increase demand. By next year, an area the size of Delaware will have been mined using this method.
To those of us who occasionally visit or travel through the region, the aesthetic atrocity of truncating these ancient landforms – deformations that will themselves last for eons – might seem enough to oppose the practice. Indeed, photographers, writers, painters and musicians were among the earliest and most vocal opponents of the practice, but the impact of mountaintop removal goes far beyond aesthetics, and into the realm of environmental disaster.
Before mining can begin, the area must be deforested. Lumber is sold or burned, destroying ecosystems, and diminishing the rich biodiversity of a region with many endemic species. Removing foliage and soil reduces the ability of the land to retain water, causing flooding downstream. Destroying a mountaintop with explosives creates immense quantities of dust, in this case, dust laden with corrosive sulfur compounds that pose a health hazard.
Like other mining methods, mountaintop removal generates waste in the form of slurry or sludge, which is stored in ponds containing up to 7 billion gallons – some of which are located near schools and communities.
But of all the devastation associated with mountaintop mining, the greatest environmental damage comes from a practice known by the deceptively benign term, valley fill. Removing hundreds of feet from the top of a mountain creates vast quantities of debris that must be disposed before the coal beneath can be extracted. The most obvious solution is to simply dump the debris into the adjacent valley.
Of course, these aren’t empty valleys but ecosystems in their own right, with headwater streams and rivers through which historically has flowed some of the purest water on the continent. Filling valleys with mountaintop debris that now contains toxins pollutes the water source for literally millions of people locally and downstream.
All of which brings us to this week’s Friday Night Movie featuring Maria Gunnoe, a West Virginia native and recipient of the 2009 Goldman Environmental Prize for her work in opposing the practice of mountaintop removal mining.
Ms. Gunnoe has not only witnessed and personally experienced the destruction of the region she loves, she has endured threats to her personal safety for bringing attention to the environmental disaster that the coal industry – responding to our demand for cheap, non-renewable energy – has wrought upon those who call Appalachia home.
Her message is one we all need to hear.
