Folks,

I’m taking a brief break here from my energy journalism to post this story about a subject that has been popping up on my radar pretty frequently lately: the mysterious disappearances of bees, all around the world. In addition to the news clip below, see these:

If anybody out there has additional info on this story, please send it to me.

–C

Excerpted from Solar Living Institute Newsletter, Vol. V, No. 3 — March 13, 2007

U.S. honeybees are suffering from “colony collapse
disorder.” Beekeepers in 24 states say these
essential pollinators are simply disappearing, with
losses of 30% to 60% on the West Coast and, in
some cases, more than 70% on the East Coast and
in Texas. “I have never seen anything like it,” says
California keeper David Bradshaw. “Box after box after
box are just empty.” Perplexed scientists are testing
theories including stress, toxins, and viruses. It’s not
the first time bees have met a mystery fate, “but it’s
never been on a scale like this,” says bee specialist
Dennis van Engelsdorp. With bees pollinating more
than $14 billion of U.S. seeds and crops a year —
every third bite we eat, according to industry buzz —
those with full hives stand to benefit. “It’s supply and
demand,” says a keeper who expects to earn
$520,000 for a month in California’s almond orchards.

For more information:

• “Honeybees Vanish,
  Leaving Keepers in Peril,” The New York
  Times, Feb. 27, 2007
• “Bee colony
  collapse mystery studied,” Pittsburgh Post-
  Gazette, Feb. 25, 2007
• “Fewer bees to pollinate
  more state almond acres means windfall for
  keepers,” The San Diego Union-Tribune,
  Feb. 24, 2007
• “Honeybee Disappearance
  Puzzles Scientists,” PBS News Hour, April
  3, 2007

Folks,

Last week’s release of a new GAO study on peak oil was a watershed event. Here’s my report on it for Wealth Daily

–C

U.S. Government Admits Peak Oil Threat

By Chris Nelder

April 5, 2007

At long last, the U.S. Government admitted last week that peak oil is a reality.

Thanks to the relentless efforts of Rep. Roscoe G. Bartlett (R-MD) and Rep. Tom Udall (D-NM) and their Congressional Peak Oil Caucus, the U.S. Government Accountability Office (GAO) has performed a comprehensive study of the peak oil issue.

Their report, titled “Uncertainty about Future Oil Supply Makes It Important to Develop a Strategy for Addressing a Peak and Decline in Oil Production,” pulls no punches, either.

It warns that the U.S. is unprepared to deal with the decline of conventional oil, and is likely facing price shocks. “The consequences of a peak and permanent decline in oil production could be even more prolonged and severe than those of past oil supply shocks,” it says, and adds that the decline “would be neither temporary nor reversible.”

Anybody want a marker on $100 per barrel? $200?

As the title of the report implies, the U.S. is late in developing its response to the problem, partly because of uncertainty about the available data on oil reserves and production. “There is no coordinated federal strategy for reducing uncertainty about the peak’s timing or mitigating its consequences,” it says.

No, there is no coordinated federal strategy, because up until just recently, there were plenty of voices in the federal government denying that peak oil was even an issue.

But those days are behind us now, and this report is really a watershed moment in the debate. It comes from one of the most sober and respected agencies in the world, one right at the heart of the U.S. government.

What this means is that now we may be able to move beyond the political, often uninformed debate that has prevailed on the peak oil issue, and start focusing on facts and probable outcomes.

The authors of the report surveyed 21 previous peak oil studies, from the sublime (Bartlett, Deffeyes, Bakhtiari, Campbell) to the ridiculous (IEA, CERA, Exxon, Lynch) and observed that most studies project the peak to occur some time between 2000 and 2040, noting the many factors and unreliable data that make such projections difficult.

For the record, I have read many of these authors’ studies, and the ones I most respect all project a peak somewhere between 2005 and 2020, with 2015 a good median of consensus.

The report also noted that liquid fuel alternatives now in development–everything from biofuels to alternative transportation technologies–are not a panacea, because they could be limited by several factors, including the increasing cost of corn, the immense expense of adding ethanol-compatible infrastructure (pipelines, tanker trucks, storage tanks, and filling stations), and the sky-high cost of alternative engines such as hydrogen-burning fuel cells.

Consequently, a conservative but probably realistic projection is that alternative technologies could offset about 4% of U.S. petroleum consumption by 2015, up from 1% today.

Under that scenario, the study notes that “an imminent peak and sharp decline in oil production could cause a worldwide recession.”

It takes a lot of guts for a governmental office to use the R-word like that, especially in an administration that’s hostile to that message.

On the more optimistic end of their projections, they note that if the peak comes significantly later, we may have the time to overcome some of the technical challenges, and could potentially displace up to 35% of U.S. petroleum consumption by 2025 or 2030. (One observer made the wry comment that the word “could” appears in the report 84 times, and “uncertain” appears 87 times.)

So this report wasn’t your usual EIA- or IEA-style “don’t worry, be happy” pabulum, and the GAO isn’t offering any pie-in-the-sky alternatives. It’s realistic, and provides a rational basis for our national dialog about energy.

I give it two thumbs up–way up.

I also give the conclusion of the report top marks for honesty:

The consequences would be most dire if a peak occurred soon, without warning, and were followed by a sharp decline in oil production because alternative energy sources, particularly for transportation, are not yet available in large quantities. Such a peak would require sharp reductions in oil consumption, and the competition for increasingly scarce energy would drive up prices, possibly to unprecedented levels, causing severe economic damage. While these consequences would be felt globally, the United States, as the largest consumer of oil and one of the nations most heavily dependent on oil for transportation, may be especially vulnerable among the industrialized nations of the world.

The authors recommend that the Secretary of Energy develop a strategy for addressing peak oil, and make it a priority. They specifically call for better monitoring of oil supply and demand, and improved information on oil reserves, projected production, and the realistic capacity of alternatives.

Wow. I have long waited for this day, but little did I expect that it would be so satisfying!

The mainstream media, for its part, managed once again to summon the courage to run out and shoot the wounded. The very day after the GAO report was released, CNBC interviewed the world’s top oil banker, Matthew Simmons, about peak oil. And for once, they let him get the straight story out.

“I believe–and I have for some time–that we are on the verge of actually replacing ‘global warming’ by this term ‘peak oil,’” he said. “It’s not a kook issue, it’s a reality, it’s a physical reality. We have demand roaring ahead and supply is faltering.”

Commenting further on the extremely tight balance between supply and demand, he continued, “There is a likelihood that by this summer, demand will start to fast outstrip supply, and we can tolerate that for a few weeks, but then actually that spells ‘shortage’ as opposed to high prices.”

Noting that Saudi Arabia has only a glut of heavy sour crude, which the world doesn’t need any more of than it now consumes, and that Mexico’s oil fields are in irreversible decline, “a disaster happening before our eyes,” with a depletion rate that might be as high as 25%, he warned, “That is so dangerous to the United States economy, you cannot believe it.”

Speaking alongside Simmons on the program, energy analyst John Kilduff admitted that we are “tremendously vulnerable” and lamented that oil prices have come down from last year’s highs, because that has caused us to “take our eye off the ball.” “We are absolutely held hostage” to unfriendly countries that still have significant amounts of oil, he said.

Simmons concluded: “The fossil fuel era is basically waning, as far as meeting the unbelievable, insatiable demand, and we don’t have any solutions. The best new oil basin we will ever find is called ‘conservation.”

And there you have it. The top oil industry banker in the world–a guy who makes his living financing oil projects–says that our salvation is in conservation.

Any further questions?

Until next time,

–Chris

Folks,

I was recently turned on to a blog and Web reader tool by Google, called Google Reader. It’s a type of reader for RSS feeds. It’s pretty cool, doesn’t require any installation, and has a lot of features.

Not only does it integrate the blogs and sites you add to its list, but you can publish your collection as an RSS feed also, which in turn can get incorporated into other readers, which could also be published as feeds… it gets deep after awhile!

It’s a great way to stay up on your favorite blogs & Web sites. Check it: http://www.google.com/reader

You can mark articles as “shared” will show up on a page for others to see. Mine is
here. Those articles are also listed in the right-hand column of the home page.

That page also has an RSS feed of its own, so you can subscribe to that in your own reader.

It’s a very cool way to stay abreast of GRL, articles I read, and other blogs and sites you may read. Give it a whirl.

–C

Folks,

Here’s a photo essay in Orion magazine, which features aerial photos of Los Angeles as art, exploring the nature of the built environment. I think it’s a fascinating way to look at things, and an interesting counterpoint to the back-to-the-land movement. Check it out…and make sure to read the essay, it’s worthwhile.

Oblivion by David Maisel

–C

Folks,

I thought this was a fascinating read. Taken from Jan Lundberg’s excellent Culture Change newsletter, it’s an essay about one man’s journey around the country, in search of solutions to a post-peak oil society. Over the last six months, he has visited numerous intentional communities, particularly The Farm in Tennessee, and interviewed the like-minded from coast to coast, looking for people and communities who are trying to find ways toward self-sufficiency. It’s an eye-opener.

–CJOHN’S PEAK OIL ODYSSEY – SIX MONTHS INTO IT

“Part of The Farm’s original vision was to build a village for a thousand people using alternative energy systems that were economically and ecologically responsible. We believed that we could design a graceful standard of living which would be attractive to large numbers of First World people, while also being within reach of all Third World people.”
- Gary Rhine on living as voluntary peasants, “So Close Yet So Far”, from Voices from the Farm (1998)

Just before the Fourth of July, I left my life as a tennis-playing, wine-drinking, spoiled rich white guy to begin this radical eco-odyssey. And in the six months which have ensued, I have watched the sun rise over the Atlantic and set over the Pacific, joined Peak Oil groups in three time zones, and visited ecovillages as far apart as North Carolina and Oregon. Plus I spent a couple of months training with the Permaculture Army in Berkeley. But it is to The Farm, the thirty-six-year-old intentional community in Tennessee, that I keep returning.

I didn’t hear good things about The Farm when I was on my way to visit. I had participated in the Earth First! Rendezvous in the Appalachian Mountains. There I saw former mountains apocalyptically sliced down to nothing to yield up coal which will be called “clean” to perhaps be liquefied for toxic methanol — marketed as something disingenuous to shut Americans up about Peak Oil and Global Climate Chaos. The Farm was beckoning as a bastion of back-to-the-land activism in one of the mountain-top removal states.

At the Rendezvous I had met a young farmer who lives at The Farm. Her old VW van had broken down somewhere east of The Farm and west of the Appalachians, and she needed a ride back to it. I had still not yet given away my car (I would do so soon enough — to firm up my eco-cred), so I was glad to help her out. “At The Farm,” she told me on the way, as the big-box-bound tractor-trailers and the super-sized SUVs whooshed past, “there is no farming.”

I would hear similar reports about The Farm as far away as the Left Coast. “It’s a gated community now,” a teacher of urban gardening in Oakland said. “It’s like the suburbs now” said a permaculturist in Oregon, “and nobody wants to get their hands dirty by farming.” “It’s a retirement community for old hippies,” said a rich young hippie in Berkeley, on his way to India.

And, well, there is no farming being done on The Farm. As I drove in, I saw thirty-year-old apple trees and thirty-year-old horses. Hundreds of acres of fields lay fallow. It turns out that a lot of Farmies drive the seventy-some miles up to Nashville to buy hyper-priced U.S.D.A.-certified organic goodies at Wild Oats (a Corporate Clone of Whole Foods, where the PR.-savvy system does not allow the cashiers to unionize, but does encourage them to wear tie-dye).

By the same token, however, there is no farming being done in the United States of America — not on a local, sustainable scale, that is, not to any degree worthy of official attention. In fact, the U.S. Bureau of the Census stopped counting farming as an occupation in 1986 — the number of actual, self-employed, traditional farmers had become statistically insignificant. To be sure, there are some non-corporatized farmers still around, but they exist only because they have either a reliable source of non-farm income (as I had), or because they are willing to live in real poverty (the Farmies of the 1970s lived on the equivalent of a dollar fifty per day per person).

But the bottom line is that our corporatized, industrialized, government-subsidized mega-scale methods of petro-food production have made small-scale farming virtually impossible.

And that is the heartbreaking story of American agriculture in the twentieth century, whether you’re talking about grandma and grandpa’s forgotten old farm or whether you’re talking about The Farm. And so if you come to The Farm today looking for a working model for a sustainable, post-petroleum, ecovillaging future, you are going to be disappointed. But then again, where are you going to find such a model in the U.S.?

Back in the 1970s, when there really was subsistence-level farming being done on The Farm, Stephen Gaskin, the founder, coined the terms “Technicolor Amish” and “voluntary peasants” to make it plain how these hippies proudly and idealistically toiled in poverty. But that original hippie energy – that original vision — was not sustainable, and after the big Changeover (as the Farmies still call it) took place in 1982-83, The Farm ceased to be a commune. Private property has been the rule here for a quarter of a century now. Subsistence-level farming is just a collective memory, though the spirit of voluntary peasantry still thrives in the souls of some of the more uncompromising old Farmies.

Albert Bates, for example, who first came to the Farm in 1972, runs what is called the Ecovillage Training Center here, and he has just published a book called The Post-Petroleum Survival Guide and Cookbook. But for the time being Bates is something of a prophet without honor in his own country. Few of the Farmies share his sense of urgency about ecological crisis. And this is a real problem. For from what I’ve seen over these past six months, the Farmies represent the best of what’s being done by the very few Americans who are idealistic enough to want to live in intentional communities and ecovillages.

The fact that so much ecological work remains undone and even unattempted at The Farm is frightening, not because it reflects badly on the Farmies, but because it begins to bring into focus just how horrible a place the vast majority of Americans are in now, as we see daffodils blooming in January and our government’s endgame of other people’s depleted-uranium-infected-blood-for-our-oil enters its fourth year.

The Farmies have not yet built an ecovillage — this is unhappily true — but they do know how to live in peace and kindness with their neighbors – and they can remind us that it is possible to live as voluntary peasants. When they lived on the equivalent of a dollar fifty a day, they really did abide by the founding principle which they had taken verbatim from the book of Acts: “And all that believed were together and had all things in common; and sold their possessions and goods, and parted them to all as every man had need.”

Their experience of voluntary peasantry puts the Farmies on a totally different planet from the rest of America, where the mainstream still, every day, every minute, is made more addicted to their energy-scarfing hyper-consumerism. So when the time comes and the rest of America, having been denied its right to shop, convulses and sickens in the pangs of withdrawal, the planet of voluntary peasantry may well survive Peak Oil and Global Climate Chaos, because the people on it have had some real preparation for life as involuntary peasants.

And, like it or not, that’s what our future seems to hold, and that’s what will force culture change (no matter how much we pray for techno-fixes): the shock of sudden poverty.
So let us go back to Gary Rhine’s words quoted in the epigraph above, from his account of the founding vision of The Farm. It was about:

“… a village for a thousand people using alternative energy systems that were economically and ecologically responsible. We believed that we could design a graceful standard of living which would be attractive to large numbers of First World people, while also being within reach of all Third World people. We hoped to build the model village, live in it, and then get funding to help build similar towns in Third World countries. We also hoped to inspire other First World groups to build similar villages for themselves.”

“During those years we had people living on The Farm who were at the forefront in fields such as architectural design, solar heating, and photovoltaics. We had the know-how and the manpower to build the town we envisioned. But we didn’t build it.

“After a decade of struggling Third World-style in the woods of Tennessee, we were still living in a skeleton of our dream. Instead of building our town, we had been sending many of our most talented and energetic people to do relief work in Guatemala, Bangladesh, Haiti, the South Bronx, and on American Indian reservations….

“By the early 1980s, many of the people who had been in on the original vision were tired of living in a crisis-management state of mind, with systems constantly breaking down because they weren’t built right in the first place. It was frustrating because we knew how to do it right; we just didn’t have the resources. So a large number of people left. I think that if at that time we had been able to build the town and been able to live within the graceful standard of living that we had envisioned as ‘voluntary peasants,’ a lot of us would not have left. We were so close yet so far” (from Rupert Fike, ed., Voices from the Farm).

Rhine, a documentary filmmaker whose special interest was American Indians, disappeared in a plane crash about a year ago – he wasn’t all that old – and so we are led to consider the fact that just as much of the original vision for The Farm has been lost, so have many of the men and women who lived here during the 1970s already died. Yet it is out of the sadness of unrealized and never-to-be-realized dreams that we can learn from The Farm.

And so I am at The Farm as I write this. I am at The Farm to learn, and I am here to share with you what I have learned so far. My girlfriend Betsy is sitting next to me, looking over my shoulder. Betsy’s a close friend of that young woman farmer whose VW van broke down on the way to the Earth First! Rendezvous last July — whom I helped get home to The Farm — one good turn leads to another! Betsy’s been at The Farm, in one way or the other, since 1975. She was born in a teepee in Colorado in 1972– her mother Marilyn had made it during the pregnancy — and when Betsy was two-and-a-half, Marilyn moved to The Farm and began living the life of a voluntary peasant. For the first ten years of Betsy’s life Marilyn did not even own a wallet. Right now Betsy and I are house-sitting for her — she’s gone to Washington, D.C. in a Greyhound Bus with about forty other Farmies to protest our so-called war in Iraq. (Like Betsy and me, Albert’s also stayed behind; he’s entertaining a reporter from Vanity Fair who’s writing a story about the history of The Farm — how odd a topic for Vanity Fair!)

And so, as Betsy looks over my shoulder, she makes sure that what I write here is both full of truth and free from personal or pointless criticism. For this is what I have to learn here. This is where our proper response to our scary future begins: in seeing things just as they are, and then reacting to them with equanimity — by rising above our petty likes and dislikes, our self-protecting projections and false expectations, in order to be able to act with true mindfulness and compassion under any circumstances. For any circumstances are already here.

John Siman is going back and forth between the Georgia coast, where he is working on the refit of the schooner Wanderer (soon to be the Emancipator), and The Farm in Tennessee, where he is writing, among other things, a book titled Disconnectivities: Watching America Heat Up and Hubbert Down; or, Always Astonished. He can be contacted at john “at” thefarm “dot” org

* * * * *

References:

Voices From The Farm, edited by Rupert Fike.
copyright 1998.

Book of Acts: the New Testament, Acts, 2:44, 45.

Ecovillage Training Center:

thefarm.org

Albert Bates’ book: The Post-Petroleum Survival Guide and Cookbook, reviewed in Raise the Hammer, January 10, 2007:

www.raisethehammer.org

Earth First! Journal:

earthfirstjournal.org

Folks,

This one is considerably off the beaten path for GRL, but I wanted to share the story. My ambivalence about publishing it was resolved today when I came across, quite accidentally, two other stories about the Salton Sea. So here is my little story, replete with information freely plagiarized from Wikipedia and elsewhere.
(more…)

Reposted from Wealth Daily:

2006: A Time of Transition

by Chris Nelder