Triangle Sustainability Blog

China is changing everything. In the U.S., we witness China’s effects all the time: many of the goods we buy are from China; we hear about how the Chinese manipulate their currency to keep the prices of their exports low; newspapers carry stories on their massive infrastructure expansions and political suppression. Without a doubt, China is what the technology world might call “disruptive”.

From an environmental perspective, China has major problems. According to a World Bank Survey, 16 of the 20 most polluted cities in the world are in China. The Chinese government – notorious for padding the numbers – admits that at least 400,000 Chinese people die prematurely from respiratory illnesses annually. Half the population drinks water polluted with human and animal waste. Those numbers could be far higher, and the list of environmental offenses goes on and on.

Americans should be careful to point the finger. We are the most wasteful nation in the world in terms of energy and raw materials, and China isn’t likely to take that crown from us anytime soon.

But the reason China makes for such a fascinating case is because it’s just such a big country: four times the size of the U.S. in terms of population. With so many people and with such rapid economic growth, China’s potential to pollute the global environment is huge.

Some signs, however, are pointing to China’s problems with its abuse of the environment. Besides the millions who die from exposure to pollution, environmental problems are starting to hit China in a particularly sore spot – its economy.

In the last few years, Chinese products have come under international scrutiny for a multitude of quality and safety concerns – items directly related to the triple-bottom-line concept of sustainability. In one of the most recent episodes, Chinese drywall installed all over Florida was purported to have high levels of sulfur, causing corrosion to piping and electronics and, to add insult to injury, producing a really bad smell. Other product scares and recalls have involved children’s toys, high pesticide levels on vegetables and melamine-tainted infant formula.

While the bad press might be easy to hush up within China, in the rest of the world Chinese products are losing any brand value they might have had. At the moment, attempting to avoid the “made in China” label is pretty tough. But this should get a bit easier thanks to country-of-origin legislation, like the 2002 Farm Bill requiring labeling on seafood, meats fruits and veggies.

So what will the long-term ramifications of China’s unsustainability be? It’s hard to say for sure now, but the Chinese hunger for short-term growth is almost certainly going to result major, possibly insurmountable, economic hurdles in years to come. Just how far can China push its environment before its environment starts pushing back even harder? They seem determined to find out.

Floating in my snorkel gear, I stared into the animal’s large eyes at a distance of about a foot. I couldn’t help but feel a slight thrill of fear despite numerous assurances that he was friendly. He was also as big as me. The gap between us continued to slowly close, until mere inches separated me from bumping noses with the young sea lion. Just as I felt the tickle of his whiskers on my cheek, he splashed me playfully and dove gracefully under the surface.

This unforgettable experience with a wild animal was one of many that occurred on my recent trip to the Galapagos Islands. Situated in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, the islands have become synonymous with Charles Darwin’s biological theory of evolution. And despite being a world away from my home in North Carolina, the Galapagos offered me a world of lessons and fresh perspectives on our environment.

A few years ago, two environmentalists, Michael Shellenberger and Ted Nordhaus, wrote an essay titled “The Death of Environmentalism,” in which they argued that the environmental movement was at risk of marginalizing itself by becoming a special interest group similar to advocates of free speech or gun rights.

I’ve always been hesitant to call myself an environmentalist. Not because I don’t care about the environment we live in, but because the modern environmental movement seems to have become exactly the type of narrow-minded special interest group that Shellenberger and Nordhaus worried about.

But the environment is clearly a matter of everyone’s interest. There are, perhaps, some truly nefarious individuals among us who, similar to Mr. Burns on The Simpsons, truly seem to enjoy polluting. But I think common sense and public opinion polls indicate that most people would prefer clean air and water and a more stable climate to the alternatives that pollution and waste bring about.

My town is a pretty eco-friendly place. Our town council has a sustainability committee, we recently held our first Earth Action Day celebration, and our local college campus is educating a whole new generation of green crusaders. But amidst all the trappings of environmental activism, we constantly fall into the trap of viewing the earth as just another political cause and believing we just need to pass a certain legislative proposal to “save” it.

In the Galapagos, such ideas would seem ridiculous. The archipelago is a part of Ecuador, a poor nation and one where Hollywood-style talk of earth saving rings hollow when compared to many of the other issues they face. But that doesn’t mean they don’t care. The difference is they focus on how the natural world affects their everyday life and what their role in that world is.

While I was on the island of Isabela, I stayed for several days in the small fishing village of Puerto Villamil. At the town’s entrance, a wooden welcome sign had the following inscription (in Spanish): “The future depends on you.”

The spirit of those simple words was present everywhere I went on the islands. I’ve traveled to some other pretty remote locations before, but never have I experienced people who were so obviously proud of the environment they were a part of. Our guides didn’t just point out the sites; they got excited when we saw endemic penguins, blue-footed boobies and the lumbering giant tortoises that the islands are famous for. And many of the other locals expressed similar exuberance and pride in the pristine paradise they lived in and seriousness about keeping it unspoiled.

Maybe they just don’t have the funds for a sustainability committee. Or maybe it’s just easier for them. They do have an advantage – they can clearly see how maintaining their environment affects their lives, thanks to a small but significant tourism industry. In the U.S., our environmental links get blurred by a lifestyle that is often more about being separated from the natural world – by hustling from one air-conditioned location to another – than about observing firsthand how it affects our lives.

But we shouldn’t forget that we are all environmentalists because, whether we admit it or not, at some level we all care about the environment we live in. We might not chain ourselves to trees to stop loggers or march in rallies to save endangered species, but we each have a stake in the consequences of our environmental stewardship. In a highly politicized culture, that can be easy to forget. In case you need a reminder, I’ve found that going nose-to-nose with a friendly sea lion can really open your eyes.