How long will the consequences, still unknown, be felt? I was at the Exxon Valdez 11-million-gallon oil spill and watched rocks being scrubbed and birds cleaned by 12,000 people using paper towels. Over 21 years later, we still hear stories of the ecological impact and lives forever changed, for the worse. Some estimates claim the Gulf spill may range from half that of the Exxon Valdez to the equivalent of the Valdez spill every four to seven days.
Of course we should be alarmed, but the present hysteria angers me. How many times must we be surprised by the latest catastrophe? Will only a Doomsday event motivate us? It is crystal clear to me that we need to look at our attitudes and make fundamental changes. Crisis management is no management at all. Crises are absolutely inevitable if we continue to ignore the fact that nature is far more complex and unpredictable than we can imagine.
We cannot change what has taken place, but we can learn from it.
We must embrace a completely different perspective of how we work in, exploit and manage the natural world, far beyond simply the search for new technology. We need a new philosophy about the appropriate use of technology and our relationship with nature. We need to come to terms with the fact that nature is far more complex than we understand, and technology is far more limited than we want to believe.
Knowing the world is unpredictable means that our technologies need to be designed with multiple safeguards and back-up systems. We need to anticipate the worst, plan everything to prevent it and then prepare another plan for when that prevention fails. Constantly being surprised by catastrophe is stupid because unpredictable events in nature are totally predictable.
We all know that for now, we must stop the leak, clean up the mess, monitor the impacts, stay calm and stick to the facts. We need to take care of the thousands and thousands of people whose lives are being destroyed in a domino effect, and make sure the people who were incompetent are held responsible economically and politically.
Finally, we need to accept the fact that some areas of our planet are too valuable and too risky for us to meddle in. I have spent much of my life on and in the sea. I know it well enough to know that I don't know it at all. It is unpredictable and powerful.
Working in the ocean is dangerous business. At great depths, like a mile below the surface, it is beyond challenging. The pressure is otherworldly. The temperature approaches freezing, cold enough to make methane gas combine with water in the consistency of a smoothie. There is zero sunlight. This is close to an impossible environment in which to work.
Agencies responsible for giving permits and overseeing technological security and back-up systems, and BP itself, knew these challenges; sadly, the ultimate test of any proposed fail-safe system is the reality of a disaster. I believe drilling for oil in these regions is inappropriate across the globe, period.
Why would we treat the alien and hostile environment of the deep ocean with any less caution that we treat space, where we go only with multiple back-up systems?
We need to implement the precautionary principle, which requires the user to prove that any action taken will not cause harm. If we are not convinced, then the project should not be allowed to proceed, whatever the profit. The Hippocratic Oath, "First, do no harm," must be applied a priori to our natural environment. When it comes to any action to the environment, we must assume an industry is guilty until it proves itself innocent.
The Gulf of Mexico oil spill will be a tragedy of massive proportions to the natural world no matter what. Our only redemption is to make it the catalyst for a philosophical change that will protect us in the future. For starters, we need an across-the-board inventory, from businesses and industry, to do what we can to reduce our need for oil.
No one has been harmed by extracting energy from sunshine and wind, tides, waves, currents, or from the temperature differential between warm surface and deep ocean water. In comparison, these seem risk-free. I, for one, am willing to take the chance.
Jean-Michel Cousteau is an environmentalist, an educator and the founder and president of Ocean Futures Society. He is also an award-winning documentary filmmaker and the author of the new book "My Father, The Captain" about his father, the legendary undersea explorer Jacques-Yves Cousteau.
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