Ultimately, natural gas may be a second helping of non-renewable resources to sustain the ravenous human appetite for energy. And even though it may burn cleaner than oil, extracting it from the ground is fraught with environmental risks. “While we have the technology, we might not have the wherewithal to avoid the environmental problems,” says David Burnett, director of technology at the Global Petroleum Research Institute.
It’s expected that 32,000 wells will be drilled annually in the U.S. over the next two years. Each operation needs 11 to 26 million litres of water, which is mixed with toxic chemicals for fracking. On that scale, experts say serious environmental damage is all but inevitable.
“There are always threats to water and other resources. There’s always room for spills. You can’t remove all the risk,” says Stephanie Merrill, project coordinator in water governance with the Conservation Council of New Brunswick, where several companies including Alberta-based PetroWorth Resources Inc. have already drilled 65 wells across about a million acres of land. (The province could hold more than 2.4 trillion cubic metres of shale gas.)
If wells aren’t perfectly constructed, fracking fluid can leach into the earth, and while much of it can be recycled, millions of gallons still need to be dumped underground or in tailing ponds. Fracking also can widen cracks in the ground far away from wells, causing pockets of gas, undrinkable water or salt and other minerals to contaminate aquifers. This is a big problem in areas with water tables supplying millions of people, such as the Marcellus Shale extending through New York, Pennsylvania and West Virginia—one of the largest drilling developments in the U.S. The industry says water wells are not being contaminated by drilling. But it’s difficult to pinpoint blame when fracking’s seismic impact can crack earth miles away. A study by Penn State University examining 200 gas wells found that about eight per cent had contaminated nearby drinking water.
And then there’s communities like Fort Lupton. Colorado regulators say the town’s flaming water is a result of bacteria eating coal deposits and producing methane, but Markham and his neighbours place the blame squarely on drilling. Another drilling project, in Dimock, Penn., caused methane to migrate into a residential well where it detonated, destroying the well and contaminating the water at other houses.
The mad rush to develop shale gas has created an unregulated Wild West atmosphere, say critics. “We do not have the appropriate laws in place to protect public health and safety, and we’re moving too slow to implement them,” says Pennsylvania state Representative Phyllis Mundy, who sponsored a bill calling for a one-year moratorium on drilling in her state.
The U.S. Environmental Protection Agency is conducting a study on the impact of fracking, but it won’t be finished for another two years. In the U.S., there’s no national policy on shale-gas development. And in Canada, where Shell is already producing about six trillion BTUs of shale gas a year and exploration is ongoing in New Brunswick, Alberta, Quebec and B.C., laws vary from province to province, and a debate is raging about what needs to be done to ensure the safety of water supplies. Shell’s Mitchelmore says, “it’s near impossible to hurt the water table, and we think it is impossible with the controls we have in place.”
New Brunswick’s Merrill sees the appeal of developing this local gas industry—it’s a potential boon for provinces with next to no fossil-fuel production. But she wonders if the benefits will outweigh the potential problems. “At the end of the day, if there’s no drinking water or our rivers and streams are dry or contaminated, then there is no community. [People] have to decide if they’re willing to take those risks.”
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