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Unlocking Arctic Secrets Through Mercury and Ice

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Friday, April 19, 2024

During a near-shore Beaufort Sea sampling campaign in July 2023, PhD student Emma Bullock sampled ocean water with recent meltwater inputs to test for radium isotopes, trace metals, carbon, nutrients, and mercury. Credit: Paul HendersonMIT PhD candidate Emma Bullock studies the local and global impacts of changing mineral levels in Arctic groundwater.A quick scan of Emma Bullock’s CV reads like those of many other MIT graduate students: She has served as a teaching assistant, written several papers, garnered grants from prestigious organizations, and acquired extensive lab and programming skills. But one skill sets her apart: “fieldwork experience and survival training for Arctic research.”That’s because Bullock, a doctoral student in chemical oceanography at the Woods Hole Oceanographic Institution (WHOI), spends significant time collecting samples in the Arctic Circle for her research. Working in such an extreme environment requires comprehensive training in everything from Arctic gear usage and driving on unpaved roads to handling wildlife encounters — like the curious polar bear that got into her team’s research equipment. To date, she has ventured to Prudhoe Bay, Alaska, five times, where she typically spends long days — from 5:00 a.m. to 11 p.m. — collecting and processing samples from Simpson Lagoon. Her work focuses on Arctic environmental changes, particularly the effects of permafrost thaw on mercury levels in groundwater.“Even though I am doing foundational science, I can link it directly to communities in that region that are going to be impacted by the changes that we are seeing,” she says. “As the mercury escapes from the permafrost, it has the potential to impact not just Arctic communities but also anyone who eats fish in the entire world.”Weathering a Storm of SetbacksGrowing up in rural Vermont, Bullock spent a lot of time outside, and she attributes her strong interest in environmental studies to her love of nature as a child. Despite her conviction about a career path involving the environment, her path to the Institute has not been easy. In fact, Bullock weathered several challenges and setbacks on the road to MIT.As an undergraduate at Haverford College, Bullock quickly recognized that she did not have the same advantages as other students. She realized that her biggest challenge in pursuing an academic career was her socioeconomic background. She says, “In Vermont, the cost of living is a bit lower than a lot of other areas. So, I didn’t quite realize until I got to undergrad that I was not as middle-class as I thought.” Bullock had learned financial prudence from her parents, which informed many of the decisions she made as a student. She says, “I didn’t have a phone in undergrad because it was a choice between getting a good laptop that I could do research on or a phone. And so I went with the laptop.”Bullock majored in chemistry because Haverford did not offer an environmental science major. To gain experience in environmental research, she joined the lab of Helen White, focusing on the use of silicone bands as passive samplers of volatile organic compounds in honeybee hives. A pivotal moment occurred when Bullock identified errors in a collaborative project. She says, “[Dr. White and I] brought the information about flawed statistical tests to the collaborators, who were all men. They were not happy with that. They made comments that they did not like being told how to do chemistry by women.”White sat Bullock down and explained the pervasiveness of sexism in this field. “She said, ‘You have to remember that it is not you. You are a good scientist. You are capable,’” Bullock recalls. That experience strengthened her resolve to become an environmental scientist. “The way that Dr. Helen White approached dealing with this problem made me want to stick in the STEM field, and in the environmental and geochemistry fields specifically. It made me realize that we need more women in these fields,” she says.As she reached the end of college, Bullock knew that she wanted to continue her educational journey in environmental science. “Environmental science impacts the world around us in such visible ways, especially now with climate change,” she says. She submitted applications to many graduate programs, including to MIT, which was White’s alma mater, but was rejected by all of them.Undeterred, Bullock decided to get more research experience. She took a position as a lab technician at the Max Planck Institute of Marine Microbiology in Bremen, Germany, where she studied methane emissions from seagrass beds — her first foray into chemical oceanography. A year later, she applied to graduate schools again and was accepted by nearly all of the programs, including MIT. She hopes her experience can serve as a lesson for future applicants. “Just because you get rejected the first time does not mean that you’re not a good candidate. It just means that you may not have the right experience or that you didn’t understand the application process correctly,” she says.Understanding the Ocean Through the Lens of ChemistryUltimately, Bullock chose MIT because she was most interested in the specific scientific projects within the program and liked the sense of community. “It is a very unique program because we have the opportunity to take classes at MIT and access to the resources that MIT has, but we also perform research at Woods Hole,” she says. Some people warned her about the cutthroat nature of the Institute, but Bullock has found the exact opposite to be a true. “A lot of people think of MIT, and they think it is one of those top tier schools, so it must be competitive. My experience in this program is that it is very collaborative because our research is so individual and unique that you really can’t be competitive. What you are doing is so different from any other student,” she says.Bullock joined the group of Matthew Charette, senior scientist and director of the WHOI Sea Grant Program, which investigates the ocean through a chemical lens by characterizing the Arctic groundwater sampled during field campaigns in Prudhoe Bay, Alaska. Bullock analyzes mercury and biotoxic methylmercury levels impacted by permafrost thaw, which is already affecting the health of Arctic communities. For comparison, Bullock points to mercury-based dental fillings, which have been the subject of scientific scrutiny for health impacts. She says, “You get more mercury by eating sushi and tuna and salmon than you would by having a mercury-based dental filling.”Environmental Advocacy and Future AspirationsBullock has been recognized as an Arctic PASSION Ambassador for her work in the historically underresearched Arctic region. As part of this program, she was invited to participate in a “sharing circle,” which connected early-career scientists with Indigenous community members, and then empowered them to pass what they learned about the importance of Arctic research onto their communities. This experience has been the highlight of her PhD journey so far. She says, “It was small enough, and the people there were invested enough in the issues that we got to have very interesting, dynamic conversations, which doesn’t always happen at typical conferences.”Bullock has also spearheaded her own form of environmental activism via a project called en-justice, which she launched in September 2023. Through a website and a traveling art exhibit, the project showcases portraits and interviews of lesser-known environmental advocates that “have arguably done more for the environment but are not as famous” as household names like Greta Thunberg and Leonardo DiCaprio.“They are doing things like going to town halls, arguing with politicians, getting petitions signed … the very nitty-gritty type work. I wanted to create a platform that highlighted some of these people from around the country but also inspired people in their own communities to try and make a change,” she says. Bullock has also written an op-ed for the WHOI magazine, Oceanus, and has served as a staff writer for the MIT-WHOI Joint Program newsletter, “Through the Porthole.”After she graduates this year, Bullock plans to continue her focus on the Arctic. She says, “I find Arctic research very interesting, and there are so many unanswered research questions.” She also aspires to foster further interactions like the sharing circle.“Trying to find a way where I can help facilitate Arctic communities and researchers in terms of finding each other and finding common interests would be a dream role. But I don’t know if that job exists,” Bullock says. Given her track record of overcoming obstacles, odds are, she will turn these aspirations into reality.

MIT PhD candidate Emma Bullock studies the local and global impacts of changing mineral levels in Arctic groundwater. A quick scan of Emma Bullock’s CV...

Emma Bullock

During a near-shore Beaufort Sea sampling campaign in July 2023, PhD student Emma Bullock sampled ocean water with recent meltwater inputs to test for radium isotopes, trace metals, carbon, nutrients, and mercury. Credit: Paul Henderson

MIT PhD candidate Emma Bullock studies the local and global impacts of changing mineral levels in Arctic groundwater.

A quick scan of Emma Bullock’s CV reads like those of many other MIT graduate students: She has served as a teaching assistant, written several papers, garnered grants from prestigious organizations, and acquired extensive lab and programming skills. But one skill sets her apart: “fieldwork experience and survival training for Arctic research.”

That’s because Bullock, a doctoral student in chemical oceanography at the Woods Hole Oceanographic Institution (WHOI), spends significant time collecting samples in the Arctic Circle for her research. Working in such an extreme environment requires comprehensive training in everything from Arctic gear usage and driving on unpaved roads to handling wildlife encounters — like the curious polar bear that got into her team’s research equipment.

To date, she has ventured to Prudhoe Bay, Alaska, five times, where she typically spends long days — from 5:00 a.m. to 11 p.m. — collecting and processing samples from Simpson Lagoon. Her work focuses on Arctic environmental changes, particularly the effects of permafrost thaw on mercury levels in groundwater.

“Even though I am doing foundational science, I can link it directly to communities in that region that are going to be impacted by the changes that we are seeing,” she says. “As the mercury escapes from the permafrost, it has the potential to impact not just Arctic communities but also anyone who eats fish in the entire world.”

Weathering a Storm of Setbacks

Growing up in rural Vermont, Bullock spent a lot of time outside, and she attributes her strong interest in environmental studies to her love of nature as a child. Despite her conviction about a career path involving the environment, her path to the Institute has not been easy. In fact, Bullock weathered several challenges and setbacks on the road to MIT.

As an undergraduate at Haverford College, Bullock quickly recognized that she did not have the same advantages as other students. She realized that her biggest challenge in pursuing an academic career was her socioeconomic background. She says, “In Vermont, the cost of living is a bit lower than a lot of other areas. So, I didn’t quite realize until I got to undergrad that I was not as middle-class as I thought.” Bullock had learned financial prudence from her parents, which informed many of the decisions she made as a student. She says, “I didn’t have a phone in undergrad because it was a choice between getting a good laptop that I could do research on or a phone. And so I went with the laptop.”

Bullock majored in chemistry because Haverford did not offer an environmental science major. To gain experience in environmental research, she joined the lab of Helen White, focusing on the use of silicone bands as passive samplers of volatile organic compounds in honeybee hives. A pivotal moment occurred when Bullock identified errors in a collaborative project. She says, “[Dr. White and I] brought the information about flawed statistical tests to the collaborators, who were all men. They were not happy with that. They made comments that they did not like being told how to do chemistry by women.”

White sat Bullock down and explained the pervasiveness of sexism in this field. “She said, ‘You have to remember that it is not you. You are a good scientist. You are capable,’” Bullock recalls. That experience strengthened her resolve to become an environmental scientist. “The way that Dr. Helen White approached dealing with this problem made me want to stick in the STEM field, and in the environmental and geochemistry fields specifically. It made me realize that we need more women in these fields,” she says.

As she reached the end of college, Bullock knew that she wanted to continue her educational journey in environmental science. “Environmental science impacts the world around us in such visible ways, especially now with climate change,” she says. She submitted applications to many graduate programs, including to MIT, which was White’s alma mater, but was rejected by all of them.

Undeterred, Bullock decided to get more research experience. She took a position as a lab technician at the Max Planck Institute of Marine Microbiology in Bremen, Germany, where she studied methane emissions from seagrass beds — her first foray into chemical oceanography. A year later, she applied to graduate schools again and was accepted by nearly all of the programs, including MIT. She hopes her experience can serve as a lesson for future applicants. “Just because you get rejected the first time does not mean that you’re not a good candidate. It just means that you may not have the right experience or that you didn’t understand the application process correctly,” she says.

Understanding the Ocean Through the Lens of Chemistry

Ultimately, Bullock chose MIT because she was most interested in the specific scientific projects within the program and liked the sense of community. “It is a very unique program because we have the opportunity to take classes at MIT and access to the resources that MIT has, but we also perform research at Woods Hole,” she says. Some people warned her about the cutthroat nature of the Institute, but Bullock has found the exact opposite to be a true. “A lot of people think of MIT, and they think it is one of those top tier schools, so it must be competitive. My experience in this program is that it is very collaborative because our research is so individual and unique that you really can’t be competitive. What you are doing is so different from any other student,” she says.

Bullock joined the group of Matthew Charette, senior scientist and director of the WHOI Sea Grant Program, which investigates the ocean through a chemical lens by characterizing the Arctic groundwater sampled during field campaigns in Prudhoe Bay, Alaska. Bullock analyzes mercury and biotoxic methylmercury levels impacted by permafrost thaw, which is already affecting the health of Arctic communities. For comparison, Bullock points to mercury-based dental fillings, which have been the subject of scientific scrutiny for health impacts. She says, “You get more mercury by eating sushi and tuna and salmon than you would by having a mercury-based dental filling.”

Environmental Advocacy and Future Aspirations

Bullock has been recognized as an Arctic PASSION Ambassador for her work in the historically underresearched Arctic region. As part of this program, she was invited to participate in a “sharing circle,” which connected early-career scientists with Indigenous community members, and then empowered them to pass what they learned about the importance of Arctic research onto their communities. This experience has been the highlight of her PhD journey so far. She says, “It was small enough, and the people there were invested enough in the issues that we got to have very interesting, dynamic conversations, which doesn’t always happen at typical conferences.”

Bullock has also spearheaded her own form of environmental activism via a project called en-justice, which she launched in September 2023. Through a website and a traveling art exhibit, the project showcases portraits and interviews of lesser-known environmental advocates that “have arguably done more for the environment but are not as famous” as household names like Greta Thunberg and Leonardo DiCaprio.

“They are doing things like going to town halls, arguing with politicians, getting petitions signed … the very nitty-gritty type work. I wanted to create a platform that highlighted some of these people from around the country but also inspired people in their own communities to try and make a change,” she says. Bullock has also written an op-ed for the WHOI magazine, Oceanus, and has served as a staff writer for the MIT-WHOI Joint Program newsletter, “Through the Porthole.”

After she graduates this year, Bullock plans to continue her focus on the Arctic. She says, “I find Arctic research very interesting, and there are so many unanswered research questions.” She also aspires to foster further interactions like the sharing circle.

“Trying to find a way where I can help facilitate Arctic communities and researchers in terms of finding each other and finding common interests would be a dream role. But I don’t know if that job exists,” Bullock says. Given her track record of overcoming obstacles, odds are, she will turn these aspirations into reality.

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California water agency considers spending $141 million on Delta tunnel project

The Metropolitan Water District's board is set to vote in December on whether to spend $141.6 million for planning of the proposed Delta tunnel project.

The powerful board of Southern California’s largest urban water supplier will soon vote on whether to continue funding a large share of preliminary planning work for the state’s proposed water tunnel in the Sacramento-San Joaquin River Delta.The 38-member board of the Metropolitan Water District of Southern California is set to consider approving $141.6 million for planning and preconstruction costs at its Dec. 10 meeting.Gov. Gavin Newsom and his administration have requested additional financial support from suppliers that would eventually receive water from the project, and the MWD is being asked to cover its share of nearly half the initial costs.The district, which provides drinking water for about 19 million people in Southern California, has spent $160.8 million supporting the project since 2020, and is expected to help foot the bill as requested by the state.Newsom has said building the proposed Delta Conveyance Project is critical for California’s future. The 45-mile tunnel would transport water beneath the Delta, creating a second route to draw water from the Sacramento River into the aqueducts of the State Water Project.The state has estimated the total cost at $20.1 billion, and Newsom has said he hopes to have the project fully permitted to move forward by the time he leaves office in early 2027.Supporters and opponents of the project made their arguments to MWD board members at a meeting Monday. The discussion ranged widely from the vital role of the Delta’s water in California’s economy to potential alternative investments aimed at boosting the state’s supplies.Supporters, including leaders of business and labor groups, said they believe building the tunnel would improve water-supply reliability in the face of climate change, sea-level rise and the risks of an earthquake that could put existing infrastructure out of commission.“On the climate front, warming temperatures have put water storage capacity of the Sierra Nevada mountains in long-term decline,” said Adrian Covert, the Bay Area Council’s senior vice president of public policy.Covert said the project would be a cost-effective way for the state to adapt, and that reliable water will also figure in future efforts to address the state’s chronic housing shortage. “Our great concern is that, without action, water scarcity will emerge as a major constraint on housing production across California,” he said.For now, the MWD board will only be deciding on whether to agree to the state’s funding request for the next three years. The board is not expected to vote on whether to participate in the project until 2027.“We encourage you not to pull out, stay the course and fund the study so that we can learn whether it’s good or not to buy into for the long run,” said Tracy Hernandez, chief executive of the Los Angeles County Business Federation.She said the funding will enable the water district’s leaders to “continue shaping this project.”Hernandez said her organization views the project as an affordable way of ensuring water reliability. Other supporters cited a recent cost-benefit analysis by the state Department of Water Resources, which concluded that building the tunnel would deliver water at lower cost than investments in seawater desalination, wastewater recycling or stormwater capture.Opponents of the project have argued the state’s analysis is flawed and underestimates the costs while overestimating the benefits. They’ve called the tunnel a boondoggle that would harm the Delta and its deteriorating ecosystem, and have argued the project would saddle ratepayers with high costs.“Please, stop throwing good money after bad,” said Pat Hume, a Sacramento County supervisor and chair of a coalition of Delta counties. “If these costs are this high before the project even begins, imagine what will happen to the projected costs to actually deliver the project.”Different versions of the plan have been debated for decades — at first calling for a canal around the Delta, and later twin tunnels beneath the Delta, followed by Newsom’s current proposal for a single tunnel. Environmental groups, Indigenous tribes, fishing organizations and local agencies have filed lawsuits seeking to block the project. They have argued the state should instead invest in other approaches in the Delta, such as strengthening aging levees and restoring natural floodplains to reduce flood risks, while changing water management and improving existing infrastructure to protect the estuary’s health.“I believe there are a lot of alternative projects that could be explored and potentially delivered, in a more timely and more cost effective manner,” Hume said. Focusing instead on strengthening levees in the Delta and restoring tidal marshlands, he said, would ensure that water is “delivered to the doorstep of your existing pumps reliably.”Other critics argued that California’s efforts to address its housing affordability aren’t constrained by water but rather by other issues. They noted that tribes and environmental groups are currently challenging related state water-management decisions in the Delta, and said more legal challenges are likely. Some called for continuing to increase investments in local water supplies in Southern California to reduce reliance on imported water from the Delta and the Colorado River.“When you’re building something that creates environmental harm, environmental damage, that impacts local communities, there’s a cost to that. It impacts tribes, there’s a cost to that,” said Bruce Reznik, executive director of the group Los Angeles Waterkeeper.Pumping to supply farms and cities has contributed to the ecological degradation of the Delta, where fish populations have suffered declines in recent years. State water managers say the tunnel would enable California to capture more water during wet periods. They also say the tunnel would lessen limitations on water deliveries linked to fish protections at the state’s existing pumping facilities. Reznik said Southern California has a great deal of untapped potential to boost supplies locally through investments such as recycling wastewater and capturing stormwater. “There is so much we could be working on together,” he said.The state Department of Water Resources has asked MWD to provide about 47% of the $300 million in planning and preconstruction costs, with 17 other water agencies funding the remainder. The state’s current plans call for starting construction of the tunnel in late 2029. Construction would take about 15 years. Deven Upadhyay, MWD’s interim general manager, called Monday’s discussion a “fantastic dialogue” that allowed board members to hear from those on different sides of the debate.In a separate project, the district is also moving ahead with plans to build the largest wastewater recycling plant in the country. The facility in Carson, called Pure Water Southern California, is projected to cost $8 billion at full build-out and produce 150 million gallons of water daily — enough to supply about half a million homes.The U.S. Bureau of Reclamation announced this week that the federal government will provide $26.2 million to support the project, adding to $99.2 million in federal funds committed earlier this year. The Metropolitan Water District’s managers say the plant could start operating and delivering water in 2032.The water recycling project will benefit the entire state and the Southwest, said Adán Ortega, Jr., chair of the MWD board.“It will help lower demands on our imported water sources from the Colorado River and on the Northern Sierra,” Ortega said. “And it will help keep the economic engine of Southern California running, regardless of the future drought conditions we may face.”

Cambodia's Flagship Canal in Hot Water as China Funding Dries Up

By Francesco GuarascioPHNOM PENH (Reuters) - At a ceremony in August, Cambodia's leader Hun Manet knelt to receive blessings from saffron-robed...

PHNOM PENH (Reuters) - At a ceremony in August, Cambodia's leader Hun Manet knelt to receive blessings from saffron-robed monks as fireworks and balloons heralded the breaking of ground for a canal he hopes will transform his country's economic fortunes.Addressing hundreds of people waving the Cambodian flag, Hun Manet said China would contribute 49% to the funding of the Funan Techo Canal that will link the Mekong River to the Gulf of Thailand and reduce Cambodia's shipping reliance on its neighbour Vietnam.Cambodia's government estimates the strategic, if contentious, infrastructure project will cost $1.7 billion, nearly 4% of Cambodia's annual gross domestic product.But months later, China's financial contribution remains in doubt.Four people directly involved in the investment plans or briefed about them told Reuters Beijing has expressed misgivings about the project and has not made definitive commitments on its funding."It is normal business practice for Chinese companies to assist Cambodia in exploring the construction of comprehensive water conservancy projects in accordance with market principles," China's foreign ministry said in an emailed statement to Reuters when asked about the canal.The Chinese ministry did not answer a direct question about the funding but said the two countries were "ironclad friends," a comment echoed by Hun Manet in late October.Cambodia's government declined requests for interviews, and its press officers did not reply in recent weeks to requests for comments about the canal's funding.China's lack of clear commitment could jeopardise the entire plan, given uncertainty over the project's costs, its environmental impact and financial viability, experts, officials and diplomats say.It also underscore how Beijing is drastically downsizing its overseas investments as its domestic economic struggles, even in countries it considers strategic partners, such as Cambodia.Once a prime example for Western-backed "nation-building" after the long civil war that followed the fall of the Khmer Rouge regime, Cambodia has in recent times been widely seen by diplomats and foreign policy experts as a Chinese client state, owing to Beijing more than one-third of its total state debt.But Chinese investment in the Southeast Asian nation is now plunging, after a series of unsuccessful infrastructure projects, amid concerns over criminal gangs targeting Chinese nationals, and dropping tourist numbers.The 180km (112 mile) canal would greatly expand an existing waterway and divert water from the fragile rice-growing Mekong Delta to the Gulf of Thailand, cutting Cambodian shipping through Vietnamese ports.In the months after the Cambodian government signed an "investment framework agreement" in October 2023 with China Road and Bridge Corporation (CRBC), a state-owned construction company, Cambodian officials went public about China's financial involvement. The text of the deal is not public.In an interview with Reuters in May, the minister in charge of the project, Deputy Prime Minister Sun Chanthol, said CRBC would develop the canal and "totally" cover its costs, getting a multi-decade concession in return.But at the August groundbreaking, the prime minister put CRBC's share in the project at 49%, with the remainder covered by Cambodian companies.The same day, his father and Cambodia's decades-long leader Hun Sen posted a statement on Facebook calling on Japan to invest in the canal.China's official Xinhua News Agency did not mention any Chinese involvement in its report about the groundbreaking.A few days later, a communication officer for Sun Chanthol told Reuters that ownership for the canal's section to be developed together with CRBC remained "to be determined".When asked about Cambodian assertions that CRBC would have a 49% stake, an official for the company told Reuters in mid-October the figures circulating publicly were not definitive. "It's very complicated," said the official, who did not elaborate.CRBC and its parent company did not reply to requests for comment.One person directly involved in the investment plans told Reuters in early November there was no Chinese money on the table at that stage, confirming the account from another official.A source from one of the Cambodian investors in the project said it would not be a surprise if China did not invest in the canal at all.A fourth official briefed on the matter said China earlier this year had privately criticised Cambodian officials for announcing Chinese funding for the project that had not been decided.They all declined to be named because of the issue's sensitivity.More than three months after groundbreaking, the site of the ceremony on the bank of the Mekong laid abandoned, a Reuters reporter observed.Dithering over the canal comes as Chinese official development assistance to Cambodia, including infrastructure funding, is falling.China's disbursements to Cambodia are projected to drop to $35 million in 2026 from more than $420 million in 2021. There have been no new Chinese loans in the first half of this year, down from $567 million in 2022 and $302 million last year, according to Cambodian official data.Chinese funding for overseas projects is also falling elsewhere, but in Cambodia the impact "could be very pronounced," said Grace Stanhope of the Lowy Institute, a Sydney-based think tank.China is still building roads and other infrastructure but has pulled out from the construction of the new Phnom Penh airport, where it had initially committed $1.1 billion.That disengagement came as an expressway built by CRBC connecting Phnom Penh to the coastal city of Sihanoukville remained under-utilised by Cambodian motorists and truck drivers who to avoid tolls prefer the crowded but free old road, a Reuters reporter observed, confirming accounts from multiple Cambodia-based officials.Another recently completed Chinese-backed airport at Siem Reap to serve the UNESCO world heritage site of Angkor Wat "is very quiet," said Ou Virak, head of Cambodian think tank Future Forum, noting investors may face losses.Chinese private investment remains high, but multiple Phnom Penh-based diplomats and financial experts point to once large inflows of Chinese informal funds destined to the gambling industry and real estate sector having dried up.Chinese tourism, once a major source of income for Cambodia, has also struggled to recover from the COVID pandemic.That has coincided with a prolonged Chinese campaign warning tourists of risks linked to an online scams industry in Cambodia.As relations between China and Cambodia evolve, the canal project's fate and its sustainability remain uncertain."With so many unknowns, it's no surprise to me that investors are getting cold feet on this project and have yet to show up with their money in hand," said Brian Eyler, an expert on the Mekong region at U.S.-based think tank Stimson Center.(Reporting by Francesco Guarascio in Phnom Penh; additional reporting by Liz Lee and Yukun Zhang in Beijing; editing by David Crawshaw and Lincoln Feast.)Copyright 2024 Thomson Reuters.

Communities on Paraná River fear Argentina’s privatisation plan will destroy their way of life

Critics say President Javier Milei’s plan to privatise river management will cause environmental damageRiver communities in Argentina fear that Javier Milei’s plans to privatise operations on a key shipping route could lead to environmental damage and destroy their way of life.Since taking office almost a year ago, the self-styled “anarcho-capitalist” president has pledged to privatise a number of the state’s assets. The latest is the Paraguay-Paraná waterway – a shipping route of strategic importance for Argentina and its neighbours. Continue reading...

River communities in Argentina fear that Javier Milei’s plans to privatise operations on a key shipping route could lead to environmental damage and destroy their way of life.Since taking office almost a year ago, the self-styled “anarcho-capitalist” president has pledged to privatise a number of the state’s assets. The latest is the Paraguay-Paraná waterway – a shipping route of strategic importance for Argentina and its neighbours.Announcing the decision on Tuesday, cabinet chief Guillermo Francos said that Argentina will no longer be involved with the management and maintenance of the waterway. He said that a 30-year concession will involve a “major modernisation of the management of the waterway” which will “gradually boost international trade”.The waterway, which is more than 3,400km (2,100 miles) long, provides inland areas of Paraguay, Bolivia and southern Brazil with access to the sea. It is vital for transporting soya bean and grains overseas, and nearly 80% of Argentina’s foreign trade is channelled through it.“This milestone will allow 80% of our foreign trade to have more efficient and lower logistics rates,” said Luis Zubizarreta, the president of the Chamber of Private Commercial Ports.Juan Carlos García, 68, who was born in the Paraná delta and is a descendant of the Indigenous Guaraní people, described feeling a “great pain” at hearing the news. “We will struggle,” he said. “The environmental damage will be terrible.”The Paraná River delta is home to abundant species of flora and fauna, and is a migratory corridor for birds. Its wetlands also help regulate the climate, store water and act as a carbon sink. García fears increased shipping will increase pollution and dredging activities, thereby disrupting habitats.Diego Domínguez, a 50-year-old teacher, also said he is concerned about “river exploitation”, adding that the “privatisation of natural resources entails violence against life for the benefit of a few”. The waterway was previously privatised in the 1990s, before being brought back under state control several years ago.Carlos Veron, a 73-year-old river captain of 44 years, said he believes the tender is for the “exclusive benefit” of multinational businesses. “They do this at a time when more than 50% of our people are living below the poverty line,” he said.In the past five years, the waterway has also gained importance as a major route for drug traffickers, who move cocaine from Peru and Bolivia through ports such as the inland city of Rosario from, where it is exported to Africa and Europe. In his statement, Francos said that the government will implement radars and satellite systems for ship trafficking and increase measures to fight “drug trafficking and terrorism”.Milei came into office last December vowing to take a chainsaw to the state budget, overturn a deep fiscal deficit and tame triple-digit inflation. He has recently been embroiled in disputes over other privatisations, including that of state airline Aerolíneas Argentinas and the rail sector’s main state-run cargo firm, Trenes Argentinos Cargas.However Marcelo J Garcia, director for the Americas for the New York-based geopolitical consultancy firm Horizon Engage, described the Paraguay-Paraná proposal as “the biggest and most important privatisation” the Milei administration has undertaken so far.“The way the process goes will also have geopolitical implications,” he said. “It is a major test for the Milei administration’s capacity to reform and improve the competitiveness of Argentina’s economy.”

Maine’s Dam Agency Does What It Can to Keep the Aging Infrastructure Safe

Nearly a decade after a company abandoned the Maine paper mill that once shaped Bucksport’s economy, its successor is in the process of abandoning three dams that shape the surrounding watershed

Nearly a decade after a company abandoned the paper mill that once shaped Bucksport’s economy, its successor is in the process of abandoning three dams that shape the surrounding watershed.On Thursday night, scores of people who rely on the dam’s reservoirs for drinking water and waterfront property value packed into the former mill’s campus, seizing their only opportunity to confront representatives of the dams’ owner, AIM Development USA.One by one, attendees peppered company officials with questions about what would happen to the homes huddled around the dams’ reservoirs and those located downstream, what structural condition the dams are in and what risks will remain when they’re abandoned.“If the worst-case scenario… is that you release the water because we have no other option, do we have a (projection) of what will happen?” asked a resident on Toddy Pond whose family has lived there since the 1930s. “Should I get scuba gear for my house, or should I get sun-tanning lotion, because it will be a desert?”For officials from Bucksport, Orland, Surry and the local water utility, Thursday marked the first time meeting with AIM in-person since the company announced its intention to abandon the dams this summer. They demanded clarity on how AIM would honor its obligation, as stated in property deeds, to maintain a reservoir that serves as Bucksport’s drinking water supply and cools a gas-fired power plant. If no entity or state agency claims the dams, state law allows AIM to open their flood gates and release water from the reservoirs in a minimally impactful way, leaving mudflats and the structures behind. “Our town has sought information from the petitioners,” said Bucksport town manager Susan Lessard, yet “rather than receive information, we have experienced a process characterized by chaos and confusion.” Representatives from AIM met them with silence, promising to answer the questions online in the next few weeks. As Maine’s dams age and maintenance costs mount, the outcome of the debate could provide a playbook for others to follow. Thirteen years after a Monitor investigation revealed that Maine was behind on inspecting the state’s most hazardous dams, Maine’s dam safety program, like dozens of others across the country, remains understaffed and underfunded, even in the face of a changing climate and more intense storms. Although the state agency tasked with ensuring the safety of more than 500 dams is now up-to-date with inspections, the program has yet to institute modern protocols.The office lacks digitized records of emergency procedures that residents should follow if a local dam fails, as well as digital inundation maps outlining flooding threats. Last year the program had to bring an engineer out of retirement to inspect the hundreds of dams under the state’s jurisdiction because applications for the permanent lead engineer were scant, despite reclassifying the position numerous times to higher pay scales. The office only recently hired an assistant engineer to assist with inspections. “Maine’s dam infrastructure is aging, and the Dam Safety Program is currently understaffed, facing significant challenges with implementing dam risk reduction,” wrote the authors of Maine’s 2023 State Hazard Mitigation Plan.Several of the dams overseen by the program are both “high” risk — meaning people could die if they fail – and in “unsatisfactory” condition — the worst possible grade. The dam safety program rarely follows up on its repair recommendations, according to a 2023 report, and does not take enforcement actions when dam owners disobey, meaning the program does not compel private dam owners to maintain even the most dilapidated, dangerous dams.As Maine dams reach the end of their useful lives and maintenance bills mount, some dam owners are abdicating upkeep responsibilities or forfeiting ownership of their dams altogether — leaving communities like Bucksport and Orland at risk of inheriting these costly burdens.At an average age of more than 100, the 672 regulated dams on Maine rivers, streams, lakes and ponds are far from paragons of modern infrastructure. Of the 590 Maine dams tracked in a federal dam database, 62 are considered to be in poor condition and have some sort of safety deficiency, while 15 are deemed unsatisfactory and require more immediate maintenance. Ten of the fifteen unsatisfactory dams are also labeled high hazard, meaning that dams from Boothbay Harbor to Fort Fairfield with immediate safety defects could put the lives of downstream residents at risk if they fail. Nine poor condition dams, meanwhile, have the same high hazard rating but are on average more than two decades older than the unsatisfactory dams.It’s up to the state dam safety program to guide owners’ dams into compliance, but regulators say that can be difficult because they lack capacity for enforcement.Maine’s agency has two engineers to oversee the state-regulated dams, which include 15 of the 39 high hazard dams. The federal agency tasked with overseeing large hydropower dams, meanwhile, has five engineers to inspect the 34 high hazard dams under its purview.The behemoth frozen potato purveyor McCain Foods owns a high hazard, poor condition dam that forms Christina Reservoir near Fort Fairfield and another high hazard, unsatisfactory condition dam at Lake Josephine just a mile away.The town of Fort Fairfield owns a pair of high hazard, unsatisfactory condition dams at Bryant Pond and upstream on Libby Brook that are intended to reduce flood risk, but are developing risks of their own. (The town disputed the dam safety program’s assessment, saying their risks are lower and the dams are regularly maintained).Outside of this cluster in Fort Fairfield, Maine’s 75 high hazard dams and 85 significant hazard dams (which may not harm human life if they fail, but will cause economic and environmental damage) are scattered across the state.It’s up to the Maine dam safety program’s lead inspector and assistant to assess 160 high and significant hazard dams once every six years and the remaining 363 dams under state jurisdiction once every 12 years, all while maintaining emergency plans.The program has been able to do just that, according to a 2023 assessment conducted by the Association of State Dam Safety Officials. All Maine dams have been inspected within their deadlines and have corresponding emergency plans; this means Maine has one of the highest compliance rates in the country.The authors of the assessment commended Maine dam safety employees for their hard work to “keep the program’s head above water” but painted a grim picture of the program’s ability to enforce safety standards.“Identifying deficiencies through periodic inspection is crucial, but ultimately does nothing for public safety if dams are not repaired and completed in an acceptable manner,” the authors wrote.Low funding and chronic understaffing have long plagued Maine’s dam safety program, symptoms of its sole reliance on federal grants for the program’s operating costs. The program does not receive any direct appropriations from the state legislature and does not collect any fees. In 2021, it received a meager $67,241 through its primary federal grant — at least $200,000 less than it needed, according to an internal report, and the program had to borrow from funds elsewhere.Though the dam safety program has the authority under state law to enforce compliance, none of that funding has gone to enforcement or compliance measures. The program lacks written policies describing what enforcement would even look like.Its scant budget has also made it nearly impossible to hire a permanent lead dam inspector, according to Steven Mallory, the head of the dam safety program and the director of operations and response for the Maine Emergency Management Agency.One year ago, Mallory, who is not an engineer, was facing a perilous situation after the lead dam inspector left for another job and no viable candidates applied to replace him. The program was narrowly rescued when retired inspector Tony Fletcher agreed to return on an interim basis.Mallory has increased the pay scale of the job several times since then but has had only two candidates apply over the three years, likely because engineers can find far more lucrative positions elsewhere.With these constraints, the dam safety program is constantly playing catch-up, failing to take more proactive steps to enforce safety standards, guide dam owners through necessary upkeep or removal and modernize risk mapping and dam databases, according to the assessment. Recent flooding and near misses with dam failure elsewhere in the United States have shown how costly such shortfalls can be. Emergency officials sounded this alarm to a state commission on infrastructure and climate change resilience last week.“We’ve seen in other states this year issues where dams have failed and flooded communities,” said Darren Woods, director of Aroostook County’s Emergency Management Agency. “We certainly don’t want to see that happen here in Maine.”Hazard classifications and condition assessments don’t necessarily paint the full picture of a dam’s corresponding risk, according to Mallory.The structures may be designed to withstand a 500-year flood and perform well when one hits, but the floodwaters still have to go somewhere. In the case of the town-owned dam in the heart of Dover-Foxcroft, that somewhere is into a crucial state thruway and the basement of a nearby apartment complex. Last December, when the Piscataquis River swelled behind the dam’s wall, it caused water damage and complicated access to the southern part of the state.“Most of our dams are in really good shape where they can handle excess water. However, with all the flooding and the rain, it just exasperates that problem,” Mallory told The Maine Monitor. “It’s just too much water and it’s gotta go somewhere.”Human-caused climate change has increased both the frequency and severity of floods in Maine, spurred by intense downpours concentrated in shorter and shorter periods.A study published last month in the scientific journal Nature found that it’s these rapid downpours — like the one that ripped through central and western Maine in December 2023 — preceded by multiple days of precipitation that caused most dam failures between 2000 and 2021. Its authors concluded that current engineering standards for dam flood resilience assume conservative climate conditions, and they called for officials to revisit these standards and consider more severe weather patterns.Like most other state dam agencies, Maine’s program follows model state dam regulations distributed by the ASDSO and federal government. Those standards have not yet incorporated climate change’s effects into their guidance, according to Mallory, though an ASDSO official said the organization has been advocating that state dam programs adopt updated models for extreme precipitation.Back in Maine, meanwhile, regulations already consider worst-case flooding scenarios for state-regulated dams.Mallory got a taste of what could be in store for Maine dams in the early morning hours of December 19, 2023, when a catastrophic combination of rain and snowmelt engorged the Kennebec River.Mallory’s fears lay downstream, where a pair of high hazard dams are nestled on the Cobbosseecontee Stream right before it meets the Kennebec River in the heart of downtown Gardiner. Both dams are in adequate condition, but Mallory was concerned nonetheless. He rushed to visit the dams, and was relieved to find them effectively passing the torrent of floodwater. Despite the fears that nagged him that day, Mallory said he is confident in Maine’s dams. Yet he can’t discount the increasing impact climate change will have on their infrastructure.While climate change may not be incorporated into the way Maine inspects dams and helps draft emergency plans, the state is preparing Maine dams for climate change in other ways.Maine’s 2023 State Hazard Mitigation Plan, for example, calls for tapping into a federal grant program for rehabilitating and removing high hazard dams. The mitigation plan’s local risk reduction recommendations show a variety of maintenance needs for municipally-owned, high hazard dams that have been deferred due to a lack of funds, like a $200,000 project to fortify a dam in Durham that has been patched but “needs to be strengthened and repaired to prevent failure.”In July 2023, nearby Vermont experienced firsthand the disastrous outcomes that deferred dam maintenance can lead to. After record downpours flooded valleys up the state’s mountainous spine, five dams failed and more than 50 were damaged or overtopped by floodwater, according to Ben Green, head of the Vermont dam safety program.The dams that failed were all in poor condition and municipally or privately owned, but luckily, Green said, were fairly small, earthen embankments and didn’t result in any downstream damage. That was due in part to the intense flooding that had already wrecked the dams’ watersheds, meaning even the two significant hazard dams that failed did not cause any separate, discernible damage. “So that was fortunate, I guess,” Green said.There were close calls elsewhere. On July 11, 2023, murky brown floodwater in the Wrightsville Reservoir scaled the side of a state-owned dam right outside of Montpelier, coming within one foot of overtopping its spillway and bursting down into the already flood-ravaged state capital.Green said his office stationed personnel at the state-owned dams all night for the first few days after the flood, closely monitoring the dams for any signs of impending failure. Though failures of such magnitude have been rare in Maine, the state has its fair share of hazardous dams and in 2005 saw a state-owned dam fail near Newcastle, releasing debris from a man-made lake that cost $300,000 to clean up.Part of the concern surrounding the abandonment of the Bucksport-area dams comes from the high hazard potential and poor condition of the dam on Silver Lake. If breached, its floodwaters could reach 70 homes and endanger hundreds of lives downstream in Bucksport, according to a 2021 inspection from Fletcher, the dam safety program engineer.Fletcher also described significant deficiencies with the dam, including a deteriorating concrete structure and leakages developing in its left and right sides. He recommended that AIM create an operation and maintenance plan to track the dam’s leakages and other issues, then report back to the dam safety program twice a year.But the dam safety program never followed up with AIM after that, according to Mallory, the dam safety program’s director. The program struggles to inspect all the hazardous dams it is obligated to and couldn’t spare sending an engineer to follow-up on a dam that had already been inspected before its deadline, Mallory told The Monitor Friday after attending AIM’s public hearing.“There’s a lot of steps that we could do if I had another engineer,” Mallory said. “I would have sent an engineer down there to reinspect those dams. I don’t have that. I just don’t have those assets. I have Tony, and we’re trying.”After going four years without tapping into the federal grant that funds the design process for rehabilitating or removing high hazard dams, Maine secured a $2.5 million award this fall. Outside experts and the program’s assistant dam inspector have also been working to update inundation maps with GIS and digitize dam emergency action plans, according to Mallory. And even without the digitization of the emergency plans, Mallory is confident in MEMA’s ability to adequately warn communities through alerts similar to those issued by the National Weather Service for flash floods. Compared to what the state’s hazard mitigation plan and the ASDSO report call for, however, these modest gains are only a sliver of what Maine needs to modernize its dam safety program and foster resilience to climate change. One internal estimate from MEMA recommended a $900,000 annual budget for the dam program, enough funding for two engineers, two assistant engineers and administrative staff.States in similar situations have managed to overcome the same obstacles, however. When Green started at Vermont’s dam safety program in 2017, he was one of two engineers responsible for inspecting hundreds of dams and operating the 13 state-owned dams. The dam safety program’s legal authority was so weak that Green couldn’t even set foot on a private dam owner’s land without their permission, let alone inspect dams and compel owners to make necessary repairs.Then, in 2018, the Vermont legislature granted the program rulemaking authority, allowing dam regulators to bring their program up to date with federal standards and take enforcement action when dam owners fail to maintain their dams. Vermont’s updates were gradual and limited to policy at first, but as time went on the program added a few more staff members through grant funding, then the July 2023 floods fast-tracked the program.“Within a few years we were able to pull together the two additional staff, which made everything seem possible,” Green said. “The flood kept us moving uphill.” Green now has plans for the program to expand to almost a dozen staff members and is leading a massive inventory effort to record the location, condition and owners of the dams that have been able to skirt regulation, then compel the owners to make required improvements.“Dams are forgotten infrastructure, and I think that’s obviously changing with all the highlights that dams have had in the last years,” Green said. “It’s something that we in the dam safety community can’t let people forget.”Back in Maine, Mallory sees the abandonment of the Bucksport dams as an example of the dire straits that his dam safety program is in and a call for action to turn it around.After the hearing, Mallory lingered behind and chatted with state legislators, explaining how part of these complications might have been avoided if Maine adopted the changes recommended in the peer review. With adequate staff, funding and policies, the program could have mandated compliance from AIM and ensured the dams’ safety before they were abandoned.“I think this is a guinea pig,” Mallory said. “This is the first abandonment ever. I’m hoping that with the attention on this, the legislators will (consider the recommendations) that we submitted and that will help future problems.”This story was originally published by The Maine Monitor and distributed through a partnership with The Associated Press.Copyright 2024 The Associated Press. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten or redistributed.Photos You Should See - Sept. 2024

Groundwater pumping is making California's San Joaquin Valley sink about an inch per year: Study

California's San Joaquin Valley may be sinking nearly an inch per year due to the over-pumping of groundwater supplies, with resource extraction outpacing natural recharge, a new study has found. This agriculture-rich region, located within the state's Central Valley, has been sinking at record-breaking rates over the past two decades, according to the study, published...

California's San Joaquin Valley may be sinking nearly an inch per year due to the over-pumping of groundwater supplies, with resource extraction outpacing natural recharge, a new study has found.  This agriculture-rich region, located within the state's Central Valley, has been sinking at record-breaking rates over the past two decades, according to the study, published on Tuesday in Nature's Communications Earth & Environment. While researchers have known that subsidence — the technical term for sinking — has been affecting the region in recent years, the total amount of collapse had not been quantified. “Our study is the first attempt to really quantify the full Valley-scale extent of subsidence over the last two decades,” senior study author Rosemary Knight, a professor of geophysics at Stanford University's Doerr School of Sustainability, said in a statement. “With these findings, we can look at the big picture of mitigating this record-breaking subsidence,” Knight added. The San Joaquin Valley, which extends from east of the San Francisco Bay Area to the mountains north of Los Angeles, became host to a ballooning farming sector and groundwater pumping between 1925 and 1970, per the study. Over time, these activities resulted in the sinkage of more than 4,000 square miles — about half the area of New Jersey — by more than 12 inches, the authors explained. Although subsidence slowed down following the construction of aqueducts in the 1970s, drought-induced groundwater pumping led to a resurgence during the early 2000s, they noted. To gain a clearer picture of the recent rate of sinkage, the researchers used a tool called interferometric synthetic aperture radar, which beams signals from orbit to capture land elevation changes as frequently as a few times per month. Combining this information with elevation data from GPS stations dispersed across the region, they identified spatial patterns for years that exhibited spottier satellite coverage. In addition to divulging the average subsidence rate of nearly an inch per year, the scientists determined that San Joaquin Valley aquifers need about 220 billion gallons of water coming in annually to prevent future such sinkage. That amount constitutes about 7 billion gallons less than the total surface water that typically remains in the valley after all environmental needs are covered in an average year, according to the study. Knight therefore expressed optimism that something can be done about the subsidence issue, which could be solved through certain engineered processes. One such approach, called flood-managed aquifer recharge, involves diverting excess surface water from snowmelt and precipitation to locations where the resource can drip down and recharge aquifers, the authors explained. They noted, however, that saturating the entire San Joaquin Valley with such water would not be feasible. “We should be targeting the places where subsidence will cause the greatest social and economic costs,” Knight said. Some focal areas could include spots where subsidence could damage an aqueduct or domestic wells that hydrate small communities, according to Knight. “By taking this Valley-scale perspective,” she added, “we can start to get our head around viable solutions.”

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