Chinese walker

In Japan, the government has only recently reached the point where it is finally willing to recognise the causal relationship between reservoirs and landslides.

The Ōtaki Dam in southern Honshu was completed in 1977 after more than two decades of construction, the expenditure of 23 billion yen (US$251million), and the relocation of 475 homes. After years of delay, workers began to fill the reservoir up with water in March 2003.

The following month, a slope to the right of the dam in an area known as Shiroya began to creep downward. %26ldquo;In the middle of the village, a crack appeared in the ground, and it was clear that it was very deep,%26rdquo; says president of the neighbourhood community association, 75-year old Isaka Kanshiro.

Isaka recalls that, before the dam was constructed, the government determined that the area was in danger of landslides and researchers recommended that all the households in the village be moved to a safe location.

But this did not happen. %26ldquo;Government officials decided that the village did not need to be moved if certain measures were taken to prevent the land from sliding,%26rdquo; says Isaka. %26ldquo;But once they began to design the dam, they decided that it would be okay and simply drove some piles into the ground at a depth of 20 metres. This was like beating the air. When they started filling up the reservoir and the water level rose, of course the land slid.%26rdquo;

Soon afterwards, the construction ministry, now part of the Ministry of Land, Infrastructure, Transport and Tourism, recognised that the dammed water was the cause of the landslide. In May 2003, it created a committee to investigate the fissure in the Shiroya area, which cited other examples of reservoirs triggering landslides such as Ōdo Dam, on the southern Japanese island of Shikoku in 1982 and Vajont Dam in Italy in 1963. The Construction Ministry was clearly aware of dam-caused landslides.

There is evidence in parliamentary records that the government knew about the danger of landslides at Ōtaki Dam. During a session of the Lower House Budget Committee in March 1990, questions were raised about sections of a local soil survey report that indicated there was a possibility of landslides.

Even though Italian engineers were aware there was a danger of a mountain collapsing into a newly-created reservoir behind the Vajont Dam, once the dam was completed and the reservoir filled, a massive landslide occurred, creating a tsunami that swept downstream and took the lives of 2,000 people. Likewise, the damage at Shiroya happened because the government ignored survey results and the concerns of residents and concentrated on cutting costs while continuing to push forward the project.

MLIT has now emptied the reservoir and is carrying out projects to prevent further landslides. Truly, the criticism that public works projects are %26ldquo;born small but grow huge%26rdquo; aptly fits landslide prevention measures. In August 2008, the government amended its dam legislation, extending construction projects to 2012, and allocating funds of 364 billion yen (US$4 billion). Projects that were supposed to take 15 years will now take half a century and cost 16 times more than originally expected.

Landslide prevention measures at JWA%26rsquo;s Takizawa Dam in central Honshu have continued for three years. The first landslide occurred on November 2, 2005. The previous month, while the reservoir was being filled, a slope 1.5 kilometres above the dam shifted one centimetre and fissures appeared in four separate spots. Landslide prevention procedures were conducted for nine months at a cost of 3 billion yen (US$32.8 million).

In August 2006, soon after those measures completed, workers began to fill the reservoir again. In May 2007, the slope right next to the one that had been strengthened collapsed. Half a month later, the slope %26mdash; now 90 metres wide, 27 metres deep, and 15 metres long %26mdash; slid further. JWA had taken preventative measures in no less than 40 different places. Yet this was insufficient.

Prevention measures continued and, in August 2007, another attempt was made to fill the reservoir. This time, workers were able to fill it to capacity but, as they began to lower the water in April 2008, a crack was discovered in a city road near the reservoir bank. As the water level continued to decline, other fissures appeared. Even when the water level was maintained, the land continued to slump. It was an obvious disaster.

Could this all have been avoided? A JWA official reported: %26ldquo;In November 2003, a public works committee at the Kanto Region Development Bureau evaluated the cost-benefit of the landslide prevention measures and recommended that we %26lsquo;continue%26rsquo;. We did not arrive at this decision internally.%26rdquo; But an investigation of the committee%26rsquo;s minutes reveals that there was not a single geologist among its 12 members. No one takes responsibility, no one makes rational decisions and tax monies continue to be wasted.

There may be nothing as perverse as building a dam in an area that you know is susceptible to landslides. Japan%26rsquo;s Landslide Prevention Law places limits on %26ldquo;increasing, attracting, or retaining ground water%26rdquo; above areas deemed vulnerable to landslides. Dams constructed in such areas present a stark violation of this law. One example of this is the JWA%26rsquo;s Shimokubo Dam on the Kanna River, the westernmost branch of the Tone River.

Just below the dam is an area that was designated a protected zone in 1962 because landslides had occurred there in 1910, 1938, and 1947. Despite this, the Shimokubo Dam was constructed there in 1968.

About two years after the dam was completed in 1991, a concentrated downpour triggered a huge landslide, which destroyed 40 homes. Cracks and bumps appeared in other houses and roads. A motorway was completely closed for six days, and one lane was closed for a further 565 days. The following year, heavy rains intensified the landslide problems and, in 1995, the area was declared one of 12 %26ldquo;landslide zones under direct control of the central government%26rdquo;.

These problems have transformed the area into one of the country%26rsquo;s largest public works projects, currently expected to complete in 2025 and to cost 38 billion yen (US$415 million). Though the project is under central government control, the prefecture is expected to bear one-third of the cost.

What is the relationship between the dam and the landslides? The hypothesis that the reservoir, which seeps into the groundwater causing its level to rise, is a contributing factor seems reasonable. However, officials are unwilling even to investigate this relationship. Planning officials at the Kanto Region Development Bureau appear to have been unaware that a landslide zone under the direct control of the central government lay just below the Shimokubo Dam. Perhaps they would like to deny any relationship between the dam and landslides, but they should at least investigate the possibility and the risks involved.

Even as questions about the possibility of landslides go unanswered, the Asakawa Dam in central Honshu %26ndash; a venture that was once cancelled %26ndash; is moving ahead. The site of the project is on the south-west side of the one-time volcano Mount Iizuna, located between the epicentre of the 7.4 magnitude Zenkoji Earthquake, which rocked the area in 1847, and the Mount Chizuki Landslide, that occurred in July 1985. All three locations lie on the western edge of the Nagano Basin, where volcanic tuff is widely distributed.

One of the first people to realise the danger of the Asakawa Dam was Uchiyama Takurō, who was forced to relocate his house by the Chizuki Landslide from a hill on the right side of the Asakawa River to one on the left side. He decided to build a pond on his new property, but was told that he could not because the area was susceptible to landslides. Why then, he wondered, is a dam being planned in this area? After investigating, Uchiyama discovered workers had been drilling bore samples for twenty years and had failed to find a site that was appropriate for a dam.

Suddenly, however, the project began to accelerate. In preparation for the 1998 Nagano Winter Olympics, the prefecture decided it needed a road to replace a toll road that had been devastated by the Chizuki Landslide. The prefecture, which was short of money, combined the road with the Asakawa dam project as a last ditch measure to obtain additional funding. In this way, the dam project was restarted.

In 2000, Uchiyama led newly-elected prefectural governor Tanaka Yasuo on a tour of the dam site. He informed him that the current location was the fourth or fifth that had been proposed and that it had initially been abandoned as inadequate. By the end of the day, Tanaka had decided to pull the plug on the project.

But in June 2007, a number of prefectural assembly members suggested that another investigation be conducted into the geology of the proposed site. In response, the director of the construction department declared that %26ldquo;sufficient surveys had been conducted%26rdquo; and that the prefecture would proceed %26ldquo;using the best designs and workmanship%26rdquo;. Such statements have been heard before in the cases of the Ōtaki Dam and the Takizawa Dam.

When dams are constructed in areas with volcanic geology or that have been designated as landslide prevention areas, they often lead to serious human and economic costs. When will the government learn from all these examples that %26ldquo;using the best designs%26rdquo; will not be enough? Just what will it take for officials to cancel dangerous dam projects?

Masano Atsuko is a journalist specialising in environmental issues.

An earlier version of this article appeared in Sekai in December 2008 and was later published as %26ldquo;The Immense Cost of Japanese Dams and Dam-related Landslides and Earthquakes,%26rdquo; The Asia-Pacific Journal, 1-2-10, January 4, 2010, translated from Japanese into English by Aaron Skabelund. It is used here with permission.

Homepage image shows one of the many landslides triggered by the Iwate-Miyagi Nairuku Earthquake, which struck northern Honshu in June 2008.

In Japan, the government has only recently reached the point where it is finally willing to recognise the causal relationship between reservoirs and landslides.

The Ōtaki Dam in southern Honshu was completed in 1977 after more than two decades of construction, the expenditure of 23 billion yen (US$251million), and the relocation of 475 homes. After years of delay, workers began to fill the reservoir up with water in March 2003.

The following month, a slope to the right of the dam in an area known as Shiroya began to creep downward. %26ldquo;In the middle of the village, a crack appeared in the ground, and it was clear that it was very deep,%26rdquo; says president of the neighbourhood community association, 75-year old Isaka Kanshiro.

Isaka recalls that, before the dam was constructed, the government determined that the area was in danger of landslides and researchers recommended that all the households in the village be moved to a safe location.

But this did not happen. %26ldquo;Government officials decided that the village did not need to be moved if certain measures were taken to prevent the land from sliding,%26rdquo; says Isaka. %26ldquo;But once they began to design the dam, they decided that it would be okay and simply drove some piles into the ground at a depth of 20 metres. This was like beating the air. When they started filling up the reservoir and the water level rose, of course the land slid.%26rdquo;

Soon afterwards, the construction ministry, now part of the Ministry of Land, Infrastructure, Transport and Tourism, recognised that the dammed water was the cause of the landslide. In May 2003, it created a committee to investigate the fissure in the Shiroya area, which cited other examples of reservoirs triggering landslides such as Ōdo Dam, on the southern Japanese island of Shikoku in 1982 and Vajont Dam in Italy in 1963. The Construction Ministry was clearly aware of dam-caused landslides.

There is evidence in parliamentary records that the government knew about the danger of landslides at Ōtaki Dam. During a session of the Lower House Budget Committee in March 1990, questions were raised about sections of a local soil survey report that indicated there was a possibility of landslides.

Even though Italian engineers were aware there was a danger of a mountain collapsing into a newly-created reservoir behind the Vajont Dam, once the dam was completed and the reservoir filled, a massive landslide occurred, creating a tsunami that swept downstream and took the lives of 2,000 people. Likewise, the damage at Shiroya happened because the government ignored survey results and the concerns of residents and concentrated on cutting costs while continuing to push forward the project.

MLIT has now emptied the reservoir and is carrying out projects to prevent further landslides. Truly, the criticism that public works projects are %26ldquo;born small but grow huge%26rdquo; aptly fits landslide prevention measures. In August 2008, the government amended its dam legislation, extending construction projects to 2012, and allocating funds of 364 billion yen (US$4 billion). Projects that were supposed to take 15 years will now take half a century and cost 16 times more than originally expected.

Landslide prevention measures at JWA%26rsquo;s Takizawa Dam in central Honshu have continued for three years. The first landslide occurred on November 2, 2005. The previous month, while the reservoir was being filled, a slope 1.5 kilometres above the dam shifted one centimetre and fissures appeared in four separate spots. Landslide prevention procedures were conducted for nine months at a cost of 3 billion yen (US$32.8 million).

In August 2006, soon after those measures completed, workers began to fill the reservoir again. In May 2007, the slope right next to the one that had been strengthened collapsed. Half a month later, the slope %26mdash; now 90 metres wide, 27 metres deep, and 15 metres long %26mdash; slid further. JWA had taken preventative measures in no less than 40 different places. Yet this was insufficient.

Prevention measures continued and, in August 2007, another attempt was made to fill the reservoir. This time, workers were able to fill it to capacity but, as they began to lower the water in April 2008, a crack was discovered in a city road near the reservoir bank. As the water level continued to decline, other fissures appeared. Even when the water level was maintained, the land continued to slump. It was an obvious disaster.

Could this all have been avoided? A JWA official reported: %26ldquo;In November 2003, a public works committee at the Kanto Region Development Bureau evaluated the cost-benefit of the landslide prevention measures and recommended that we %26lsquo;continue%26rsquo;. We did not arrive at this decision internally.%26rdquo; But an investigation of the committee%26rsquo;s minutes reveals that there was not a single geologist among its 12 members. No one takes responsibility, no one makes rational decisions and tax monies continue to be wasted.

There may be nothing as perverse as building a dam in an area that you know is susceptible to landslides. Japan%26rsquo;s Landslide Prevention Law places limits on %26ldquo;increasing, attracting, or retaining ground water%26rdquo; above areas deemed vulnerable to landslides. Dams constructed in such areas present a stark violation of this law. One example of this is the JWA%26rsquo;s Shimokubo Dam on the Kanna River, the westernmost branch of the Tone River.

Just below the dam is an area that was designated a protected zone in 1962 because landslides had occurred there in 1910, 1938, and 1947. Despite this, the Shimokubo Dam was constructed there in 1968.

About two years after the dam was completed in 1991, a concentrated downpour triggered a huge landslide, which destroyed 40 homes. Cracks and bumps appeared in other houses and roads. A motorway was completely closed for six days, and one lane was closed for a further 565 days. The following year, heavy rains intensified the landslide problems and, in 1995, the area was declared one of 12 %26ldquo;landslide zones under direct control of the central government%26rdquo;.

These problems have transformed the area into one of the country%26rsquo;s largest public works projects, currently expected to complete in 2025 and to cost 38 billion yen (US$415 million). Though the project is under central government control, the prefecture is expected to bear one-third of the cost.

What is the relationship between the dam and the landslides? The hypothesis that the reservoir, which seeps into the groundwater causing its level to rise, is a contributing factor seems reasonable. However, officials are unwilling even to investigate this relationship. Planning officials at the Kanto Region Development Bureau appear to have been unaware that a landslide zone under the direct control of the central government lay just below the Shimokubo Dam. Perhaps they would like to deny any relationship between the dam and landslides, but they should at least investigate the possibility and the risks involved.

Even as questions about the possibility of landslides go unanswered, the Asakawa Dam in central Honshu %26ndash; a venture that was once cancelled %26ndash; is moving ahead. The site of the project is on the south-west side of the one-time volcano Mount Iizuna, located between the epicentre of the 7.4 magnitude Zenkoji Earthquake, which rocked the area in 1847, and the Mount Chizuki Landslide, that occurred in July 1985. All three locations lie on the western edge of the Nagano Basin, where volcanic tuff is widely distributed.

One of the first people to realise the danger of the Asakawa Dam was Uchiyama Takurō, who was forced to relocate his house by the Chizuki Landslide from a hill on the right side of the Asakawa River to one on the left side. He decided to build a pond on his new property, but was told that he could not because the area was susceptible to landslides. Why then, he wondered, is a dam being planned in this area? After investigating, Uchiyama discovered workers had been drilling bore samples for twenty years and had failed to find a site that was appropriate for a dam.

Suddenly, however, the project began to accelerate. In preparation for the 1998 Nagano Winter Olympics, the prefecture decided it needed a road to replace a toll road that had been devastated by the Chizuki Landslide. The prefecture, which was short of money, combined the road with the Asakawa dam project as a last ditch measure to obtain additional funding. In this way, the dam project was restarted.

In 2000, Uchiyama led newly-elected prefectural governor Tanaka Yasuo on a tour of the dam site. He informed him that the current location was the fourth or fifth that had been proposed and that it had initially been abandoned as inadequate. By the end of the day, Tanaka had decided to pull the plug on the project.

But in June 2007, a number of prefectural assembly members suggested that another investigation be conducted into the geology of the proposed site. In response, the director of the construction department declared that %26ldquo;sufficient surveys had been conducted%26rdquo; and that the prefecture would proceed %26ldquo;using the best designs and workmanship%26rdquo;. Such statements have been heard before in the cases of the Ōtaki Dam and the Takizawa Dam.

When dams are constructed in areas with volcanic geology or that have been designated as landslide prevention areas, they often lead to serious human and economic costs. When will the government learn from all these examples that %26ldquo;using the best designs%26rdquo; will not be enough? Just what will it take for officials to cancel dangerous dam projects?

Masano Atsuko is a journalist specialising in environmental issues.

An earlier version of this article appeared in Sekai in December 2008 and was later published as %26ldquo;The Immense Cost of Japanese Dams and Dam-related Landslides and Earthquakes,%26rdquo; The Asia-Pacific Journal, 1-2-10, January 4, 2010, translated from Japanese into English by Aaron Skabelund. It is used here with permission.

Homepage image shows one of the many landslides triggered by the Iwate-Miyagi Nairuku Earthquake, which struck northern Honshu in June 2008.

Old truck tyres never die, they just turn into sandals. For decades, that has been the tradition in Ethiopia, where everyone from farmers to guerrilla fighters has fashioned worn-out road rubber into cheap, long-lasting footwear.

But now, thanks to a young woman entrepreneur who has combined the internet%26rsquo;s selling power with nimble business practices more often associated with Asian countries, the idea has been turned into an unlikely international hit. By adding funky cotton and leather uppers to recycled tyre soles, Bethlehem Tilahun Alemu has sold many thousands of pairs of handmade flip-flops, boat shoes, loafers and Converse-style trainers to foreign customers.

In the run-up to Christmas, workers at the soleRebels %26ldquo;factory%26rdquo; %26ndash; a small house on the outskirts of the Ethiopian capital %26ndash; were frantically cutting, sewing and gluing to fulfil internet purchases from customers as far away as Canada and Australia. Alemu%26rsquo;s brother packed pairs of cotton and suede trainers into a box about to be couriered to Amazon.com, the company%26rsquo;s main customer, which receives the shoes in the United States three to five days after placing its bulk order. %26ldquo;We are sitting in Addis Ababa but acting like an American company,%26rdquo; said Alemu, an excitable 30-year-old former accountant who is fond of reeling off the numbers that illustrate her firm%26rsquo;s rapid growth.

Just five years after start-up, soleRebels employs 45 full-time staff who can produce up to 500 pairs of shoes a day. More will be hired after February once the footwear range, priced between US$35 and US$65, goes on sale online in the United Kingdom and Japan on Amazon%26rsquo;s new footwear website javari.co.uk. The company%26rsquo;s sales target for 2010 is an impressive US$475,000 but Alemu%26rsquo;s ultimate goal %26ndash; one she seems deadly serious about %26ndash; is far loftier: to become %26ldquo;the Timberland or Skechers of Africa%26rdquo;.

The success of soleRebels, which has thrived in the global market with no outside support other than a government line of credit to help meet large orders, is challenging preconceptions both about Ethiopia and the best way to lift its people out of poverty.

Abroad, the landlocked east African country still suffers from an image of a hungry and often helpless nation, with six million people requiring food relief and billions of US dollars of aid each year. But where some might see despair Alemu saw inspiration. While brainstorming for an Ethiopian-flavoured product that could be produced in a sustainable manner, she remembered the truck-tyre sandals, which were used by local fighters who repelled Italian soldiers many decades ago, as well as the rebels who marched into Addis Ababa in 1991 and today run the government. %26ldquo;Recycling is a way of life here %26ndash; you don%26rsquo;t throw things away that you can use again and again,%26rdquo; she said. %26ldquo;I wanted to build on that idea.%26rdquo;

At the time, other Ethiopian shoe companies were struggling to compete with cheap imports from China. SoleRebels decided to concentrate instead on the export market, where Alemu reasoned that customers would pay good money for uniquely designed products. She found a supplier who could deliver old truck tyres and tubes, and hired women to spin, weave and dye pieces of locally grown cotton, jute and hemp, using skills passed down through generations.

Tracking international shoe fashion trends on the web, Alemu designed a range of footwear. Some are simple cotton-covered or leather covered flip-flops and sandals with names like Class Act and Gruuv Thong. The bestselling Urban Runner takes inspiration from the classic Converse All Star %26ldquo;lo-top%26rdquo; trainer, with a piece of inner tubing for the toecap and organic cotton-covered footbeds. Virtually all the materials are locally sourced, including the camouflage material used on some shoes, which is cut from old army uniforms.

After receiving international fair-trade certification, Alemu began bombarding US stores and websites with emails and samples. Shops such as Whole Foods and Urban Outfitters agreed to stock the shoes, which were imported duty-free into the United States under the African Growth and Opportunity Act, helping prices stay competitive. As word spread, individual customers began buying directly from the soleRebels website — a Christmas order from Canada included a scanned trace of the customer%26rsquo;s foot — with the shoes usually arriving by courier from Ethiopia within a week. But business really took off when Amazon signed up as a customer.

Alemu is an evangelist for the online business model, saying it allows the company %26ldquo;to understand the market needs and demands in real time%26rdquo;. SoleRebels negotiates directly with retailers, doing everything from ordering processing to credit collection itself, and ensures most of the final sales price remains in Ethiopia. As a result, Alemu said, she can pay her staff between US$1.90 a day for trainees and US$11 a day for experienced artisans %26ndash; good wages by local standards. In turn, the government earns more taxes, spurring more development.

%26ldquo;In Ethiopia we have become used to taking money from the west, to always getting help,%26rdquo; said Alemu. %26ldquo;That does not make for a sustainable economy. We need to solve our own problems.%26rdquo;

The success has enabled soleRebels to begin construction of a solar-powered factory near the current workshop, to allow for expanded production. While it will better showcase the company%26rsquo;s eco-friendly methods, that%26rsquo;s not the main reason customers like the shoes, Alemu said. %26ldquo;People buy soleRebels because they are good, not just because they are %26lsquo;green%26rsquo; or from Ethiopia. Our product speaks for itself.%26rdquo;

www.guardian.co.uk/

Copyright Guardian News and Media Limited 2010

Homepage image by Oriolus

Last August, dozens of cars filed out of a gated housing compound in a northern Beijing suburb and paraded through the surrounding streets. Slogans plastered on the vehicles read: %26ldquo;Resolutely oppose garbage incineration.%26rdquo; Just a few days before, the protesters found out that the government had decided to build a waste-to-power plant at A Su Wei three kilometres west of their homes.

Both sides of the debate over China%26rsquo;s rubbish incinerators %26ndash; discussed previously on chinadialogue by Ma Jun (see %26ldquo;Solving the incinerator uproar%26rdquo;) %26ndash; agree that sorting and waste reduction have to feature much more prominently in garbage management, but many questions remain. Slashing the creation of waste is a goal that everyone can applaud. After that, the agreement breaks down. Some argue that thorough sorting and recycling can turn most trash into resources. Others say that the majority is unusable rubbish, and that burning waste for electricity is the best way to reduce the amount of solid waste.

Wei Panming, deputy director in charge of Beijing%26rsquo;s cityscape, said that the city%26rsquo;s garbage output will stop growing by 2015. The districts that exceed growth limits will see their waste-processing fees soar. %26ldquo;You can pay if you are rich,%26rdquo; he said, %26ldquo;or you can reduce the amount of your waste.%26rdquo; Beijing will build more waste-fired power plants, Wei added, and the city will do everything %26ldquo;to maximally protect the interests of neighboring residents.%26rdquo;

However, some city dwellers, such as those near A Su Wei, are not convinced. In addition to public demonstrations, the residents compiled a well-researched report arguing against garbage incineration and sent it to government officials and reporters. %26ldquo;We want to defeat incineration on the policy level,%26rdquo; said Bai Fuqin, a chief organiser of the protest, who asked to use an alias.

Burning trash out in the open or in small furnaces is a practice with a long history in China. In 1985, the southern city of Shenzhen built the country%26rsquo;s first garbage incinerator that converts the heat into electricity. Since then, the government implemented a series of policies, including tax credits and subsidies, to encourage waste-to-power projects. By the end of 2008, there were over 70 incinerators across China. The current number is not known, but certainly many more are in the planning stages.

But protests have spread with the incinerators. Last October, thousands of people blockaded a newly-built incinerator near Wujiang, a city on the eastern seaboard, and forced the government to halt its operation. In November, public demonstrations near the southern metropolis of Guangzhou saw the government delay a waste-to-power plant for further environmental study. In December, residents near Shenzhen, also in the south, protested the building of a third incinerator near their community.

Most public concern is about a family of toxic chemicals called dioxins, which can be generated through combustion. The toxins can damage human immune systems, as well as nervous systems. Some studies show chronic exposure to high levels of dioxins can dramatically increase the risk of cancer among humans. %26ldquo;I have a one-year-old child,%26rdquo; said Tan Sitong, another A Su Wei anti-incinerator activist, and who also uses an alias. %26ldquo;Taking in such toxins will have the most impact on him when he%26rsquo;s growing.%26rdquo;

Advocates for incineration say the public%26rsquo;s fear of dioxins is often based on misleading information from sensational media reports. Dioxins can be reduced to a level that is safe to human health, said Xu Haiyun, chief engineer at the China Research Society of Urban Development. %26ldquo;Technologically there%26rsquo;s no problem. There are many mature cases in the United States and Europe to prove that%26hellip; Taiwan and Macau also have successful examples.%26rdquo;

According to the World Health Organisation, there is a level of exposure to dioxins below which cancer risk would be negligible. China requires that incinerators discharge no more than one nanogram of dioxin per cubic metre. The European Union sets a standard that is one-tenth of that amount.

Beijing officials say that waste-to-power plants will be built according to EU standards.

But that does not placate incineration opponents. %26ldquo;So what if they can reach the EU benchmark?%26rdquo; asked Zhao Zhangyuan, a researcher on environmental protection at the Chinese Academy of Sciences. He has emerged as a leader of China%26rsquo;s anti-incineration movement. Dioxin can stay in the environment for hundreds of years and accumulate in human bodies, therefore, %26ldquo;no one can guarantee that the EU standard won%26rsquo;t be harmful to human health.%26rdquo; And to meet the requirement, %26ldquo;the prescribed procedure has to be strictly followed,%26rdquo; said Zhao. %26ldquo;But in our country, abnormal practices often happen in such a complicated operation.%26rdquo;

Certainly in a number of fields, there are documented examples of companies cutting corners and government officials turning their heads the other way. Even supporters of incineration admit that it is not enough just to import western technology.

Two-thirds of Beijing%26rsquo;s rubbish, said Wei Panming, the city planning official, is kitchen waste. That means the garbage is moist and generates less heat than other types of solid waste. To minimize dioxin, it is critical to keep the temperature in the incinerator above 850 degrees Celsius. Companies therefore often add coal or diesel for extra heat, which costs more and generates more greenhouse-gas emissions. Critics of incineration say there is no trusted body in China to make sure companies are doing the right thing.

The fierce debates on incineration have sometimes turned personal. Some supporters of incineration call Zhao a hoax. Opponents dub scholars like Xu %26ldquo;unscrupulous experts%26rdquo; bought off by business. %26ldquo;Their interests are connected,%26rdquo; said Bai, the activist at A Su Wei, referring to what he considers expert-industry collusion. %26ldquo;There%26rsquo;s no-one to counterbalance them other than the public. And the information available to the public bears no comparison to theirs.%26rdquo;

Public opposition makes it difficult for companies and investors to plan for the long term. %26ldquo;Those in the industry feel confused,%26rdquo; said Wen Yibo, CEO of Beijing Sound Group, which runs the A Su Wei garbage-processing facility. %26ldquo;The government hasn%26rsquo;t stood up and spoken about garbage incineration. Is waste-to-power good or bad? When problems arise, the government seems to be speechless.%26rdquo;

Each side of the debate is looking to the central government for support. Those in the pro-incineration camp are calling for more efforts in a propaganda campaign to inform and educate the public. The opposition wants the government to stop giving financial incentives to waste-fired power plants.

But so far, dramatic policy changes look unlikely. %26ldquo;Turning garbage into a resource and using it is a good thing for sure,%26rdquo; said Xue Huifeng, director of the legislative office of the National People%26rsquo;s Congress. At a Beijing conference on solid waste processing, he said problems surrounding incineration mostly come from the enforcement of the policies, rather than the policies themselves. He affirmed that the government will continue to support waste-to-power. %26ldquo;But I%26rsquo;m talking about giving support according to the law,%26rdquo; he said. %26ldquo;Companies that don%26rsquo;t follow the law certainly won%26rsquo;t receive support.%26rdquo;

That may explain why, at a recent meeting, Beijing officials told A Su Wei residents that they will %26ldquo;resolutely%26rdquo; continue pushing for the building of the incinerator. Hence the struggle continues. %26ldquo;You can talk about governing by law,%26rdquo; said Bai Fuqin. %26ldquo;We can fight for our rights by law.%26rdquo;

Xie Yanmei is a Beijing-based freelance reporter

Homepage image from longquanzs.com

Hans-Martin Schulz, a German geologist, is co-founder of Gas Shales in Europe, a project funded by the oil and gas industry to explore the potential for development in Europe. %26ldquo;We are making the first steps in research,%26rdquo; he says. %26ldquo;It%26rsquo;s hard to estimate, at this point, what will happen.%26rdquo;

National and international energy policies will dictate how much gas is extracted, but there is no doubt that countries from Poland to China want to get in on the act. On November 17, 2009, US president Barack Obama and China%26rsquo;s president Hu Jintao launched the US-China Shale Gas Resource Initiative, which aims to use experience from the US to assess China%26rsquo;s shale gas potential.

But gas has its critics. It is about 30% less carbon intensive than oil and 50% less than coal, but it still emits carbon, which makes it less desirable than renewable energy resources. Fracturing the rock requires large quantities of water laced with chemicals, which critics fear could leak into groundwater and aquifers. Shale developments have been blamed for contaminating wells and the death of livestock exposed to potassium chloride in the water used to fracture the rock; this has led regulators to consider buffer zones around reservoirs and aquifers.

There has been no outcry in places such as the American states of Texas and Louisiana, where lawmakers have long supported the oil and gas industry. Indeed, Louisiana is offering tax incentives for people to install fuelling equipment that will allow vehicles to run on compressed natural gas. But in the north-eastern states, where the mood is less welcoming, Chesapeake Energy recently abandoned plans to drill in the New York watershed, which supplies unfiltered water to nine million people. %26ldquo;Why go through the brain damage of that, when we have so many other opportunities?%26rdquo; says Aubrey McClendon, its chief executive.

The Riverkeeper, a New York environmental group, has called for a permanent ban on drilling in ecologically sensitive areas such as the state%26rsquo;s Catskills region. But local governments are torn, given the number of jobs shale developments create at a time of high unemployment. A study by IHS Global Insight reported that gas contributed $385 billion to the US economy in 2008 and more than $180 billion in labour income alone; by comparison, the coal industry contributed $79.9 billion. More than 30 US states boasted at least 10,000 jobs directly or indirectly attributable to the gas industry.

At the end of 2008, the US department of energy (DoE) says domestic proven gas reserves rose by 3% to reach their highest level since the US Energy Information Administration (EIA) first reported them in 1977. Discoveries of 29.5 trillion cubic feet (835.3 billion cubic metres) of gas during 2008 represented the sixth consecutive annual increase, with reserves from shale reservoirs up 51% over 2007.

%26ldquo;It is very significant,%26rdquo; says Richard Newell of the EIA. Under most scenarios of future energy and climate legislation, US natural-gas production will increase during the next 20 years. But further ahead, the picture becomes less clear. By 2050, if the United States built more nuclear and wind-generating capacity and managed to capture and store the carbon emitted from coal-fired power stations, then it would be cheaper to use those technologies than to burn more gas and capture its carbon emissions, Newell says. %26ldquo;The size of the role natural gas would play depends on the availability of those other options.%26rdquo;

In its favour, he notes, gas-fired power stations can be built faster and more cheaply than coal equivalents and offer a better fit with renewable sources because they are easier to turn on and off to supplement wind and solar when the wind drops and the sun doesn%26rsquo;t shine. %26ldquo;Price is the main impediment,%26rdquo; Newell says.

And natural gas prices are unpredictable. In recent months, when gas fell below US$3 per million British thermal units (mBtu) %26ndash; a seven-and-a-half-year low %26ndash; that hardly seemed a cause for concern. But as recently as 2008, US gas prices reached a record US$13.69 per mBtu. Even at US$3.20 per mBtu, however, developing shale gas is profitable.

%26ldquo;Every square inch of my district has natural gas under it,%26rdquo; says Tim Murphy, a US congressman, referring to Pennsylvania%26rsquo;s Marcellus Shale, which runs from New York to Tennessee. %26ldquo;It%26rsquo;s going to have an impact on the whole nation.%26rdquo; T Boone Pickens, the 81-year-old oilman who has become a spokesman for the natural-gas industry, told the US congress in October that the United States has more natural gas than all the oil in Saudi Arabia. If the country converted 6.5 million of its heavy trucks to run on that gas, it could reduce its oil imports from OPEC producers by 2.5 million barrels a day.

To make that happen, Murphy says the United States must create incentives for public gas refuelling stations, or in-home gas refuelling, and plug-in vehicles. This can be funded, he argues, from the additional revenues the government will receive from gas producers if they have incentives to increase output. %26ldquo;It%26rsquo;s a solution that grows upon itself.%26rdquo;

The biggest believers are in the Haynesville Shale formation of Louisiana, where last year gas projects produced US$3.9 billion in household earnings and accounted for 33,000 new jobs, according to Loren C Scott %26amp; Associates, an economic consultancy. It estimates state and local tax revenues increased by at least $153.3 million in 2008 as a result. %26ldquo;It%26rsquo;s going to turn this parish upside down over the next five to 10 years,%26rsquo;%26rsquo; says Tommy Craig, of the Community Bank of Louisiana. Deposits are already up 25% from late 2007.

Mike Smith is one of the few spending his windfall. Whereas others have run only to a new pick-up truck, he does not have a wife or children, so the money is his to spend. He has bought a couple of large-screen televisions and invested some of his payout, buying stock in Ford Motor Company when it hit $2 a share %26ndash; %26ldquo;I have a bunch of it,%26rdquo; he says. But after years of thrift, even he has mostly held on to the money, using it for necessities such as medical bills. He was able to pay upfront to have a cancerous growth removed from the side of his nose, rather than cover the costs in instalments.

Other big winners from the shale rush remain cautious about spending their signing bonuses, despite the promise of royalty cheques once production begins. The Marshburn family, who own some 160 hectares, including a share in the most productive Haynesville well to date, are one example. Mike Marshburn, a 59-year-old former rodeo star in a black cowboy hat and a shiny silver buckle he won as a rider in the 1970s, has already banked his bonus but continues to work on the gas fields as a contract welder, while raising bucking bulls on the side.

His wife, Celia, a retired schoolteacher, lifts up her boots to reveal holes in the soles. And their daughter, Mila, 25, is working her way through 14-hour days in nursing school, despite her family%26rsquo;s sudden wealth. %26ldquo;I just tell my friends, %26lsquo;Hey, that%26rsquo;s my parents%26rsquo; money. I%26rsquo;m going to make my own way.%26rsquo;%26rdquo; Her mother wants to create a beach on the lake their home overlooks, while her father has his eye on a new bull. But they are biding their time. %26ldquo;If these royalty cheques are big enough, I might retire,%26rdquo; Mike says.

Smith%26rsquo;s bonus will carry him through retirement, regardless of how big his royalty cheques turn out to be. His contract guarantees him 20 to 25% of what the company receives for gas under his land, and production is due to begin within months. He has a twinkle in his blue eyes when he talks of the dreams he can now afford to live out %26ndash; hunting bears in Alaska; golfing at the Masters in Augusta, Georgia; seeing the vast expanses of Wyoming and Montana; building a new home amid the pine trees on his acreage. %26ldquo;I%26rsquo;m more or less a homebody,%26rdquo; he says. %26ldquo;I think it%26rsquo;s time I get out.%26rdquo;

In the meantime, he is training his nephew to take over the business so that he can retire next year. And on the weekends, he still heads out of town, to hunt on his land, among the pine trees and the well pads.

Shale oil next?

US energy companies may be able to use technologies they acquired in the hunt for shale gas to tap oil trapped in dense rock formations.

Oil is often harder to extract, given its viscosity and bigger molecules, so engineers are tweaking the process. %26ldquo;We believe this is going to be game-changing technology,%26rdquo; said Mark Papa, chairman of EOG Resources. %26ldquo;We believe there is enough oil in rock across the US and Canada to be of significant impact.%26rdquo;

While increasing the size of the world%26rsquo;s third-largest oil production base would be difficult, success could slow the decline in US oil output that has continued since the 1970s. Papa believes the process will prove economic with oil prices at US$45 to $50 a barrel, compared with around $80 today.

While nobody knows how much oil might be freed by the new techniques, Edward van den Heuvel, commercial opportunity manager for Shell Chemicals, said that on average about a third of the oil in a field is recovered. With two-thirds of the oil left in the ground, it makes sense to revisit reserves once believed to be trapped in impermeable rock.

The biggest success so far has been in the Bakken Formation of Montana and North Dakota, where there are an estimated 3.65 billion barrels of recoverable oil. Bill Albrecht, vice-president of Occidental Petroleum, the biggest US independent, says: %26ldquo;There is a huge resource here.%26rdquo; But the technique needs refining before it will win widespread adoption. %26ldquo;Relative to gas, it%26rsquo;s still an emerging technology,%26rdquo; he admits.

Sheila McNulty is the Financial Times%26rsquo;s US energy correspondent.

http://www.ft.com/home/uk

Copyright The Financial Times Limited 2010

Homepage image from Chesapeake Energy

While it is evident that China needs and has the necessary technical capability %26ndash; and sufficient storage capacity %26ndash; to carry out carbon capture and storage, significant barriers exist for its wide and timely deployment. The most important of these are the high capital costs and the considerable amount of energy currently required for carbon capture. These two barriers are interrelated; cutting the energy penalty will reduce the total cost of CCS.

Currently, the energy penalty for a new post-combustion coal power plant can be as high as 31% and, for a new integrated gasification combined cycle (IGCC) plant, 16%, as explained by Edward Rubin of Carnegie Mellon University. In China, the addition of CCS will require the burning of roughly 25% more coal in order to generate the same quantity of electricity. This is a steep initial price for the first CCS plants, which is nonetheless widely expected to come down subsequently. In addition, it is important to remember that in meeting carbon-reduction targets will rely first and foremost on improving energy efficiency and utilising renewable energy and other lower-cost opportunities, only using CCS deployment to supplement these efforts.

Technological progress has the potential to slash the energy penalty, and many research-and-development efforts are underway inside and outside China aimed at fashioning more efficient and cheaper capture processes. Based on the historical cost trends of other emerging energy technologies such as wind and solar power, there is reason to be optimistic. Solar photovoltaics, windmills and gas turbines have undergone constant cost reductions as installed capacities have increased. For this reason, research-and-development and large-scale demonstration projects will all help lower CCS costs.

International expertise is stronger than that of China in three technical areas: subsurface geological engineering; long-term monitoring and verification; and long-distance carbon dioxide transportation infrastructure. Given the United States%26rsquo; extensive carbon dioxide-enhanced oil recovery (EOR) experience %26ndash; the world%26rsquo;s first such project was launched in the southern state of Texas nearly four decades ago %26ndash; the United States is well-positioned to play an important role in developing CCS in China.

International collaboration may also take place in joint technology research and development, such as the US-China Clean Energy Research Center that was announced during US president Barack Obama%26rsquo;s visit to China late last year. China has already begun its own CCS research, with notable work conducted by Tsinghua University, Zhejiang University, several institutes in the Chinese Academy of Sciences and research institutes of China National Petroleum Corporation and the Huaneng Group. Chinese companies, such as the Huaneng Group and the ENN Group, have developed proprietary coal gasification technologies and are already collaborating with Australia and the United States.

The international community could also provide recommendations to China on developing a regulatory system to ensure the safety and effectiveness of CCS projects. It is crucial that the initial demonstration projects are conducted properly in terms of site characterisation, risk assessment, environmental-impact assessment and ongoing operations, because sub-standard work at the beginning could call the technology as a whole into question and slow down its deployment.

Since China does not yet have a comprehensive regulatory system in this area, early demonstration projects will, in particular, need to learn from the experience and best practice that industrialised countries are developing. The European Union and the United States have already launched efforts to share their regulatory experiences with China. This is also an area where international non-governmental organisations (NGOs) can make a substantial contribution, exemplified by the collaboration between the World Resources Institute and Tsinghua University.

But knowledge-sharing alone is not enough. Increased funding is also needed to jump-start a CCS industry in China. The first few large-scale demonstration projects will be intrinsically expensive and %26ldquo;risky%26rdquo; for any single developer and there is still widespread public concern in China about the technology. Therefore, international funding will be critical in helping to initiate a number of demonstration projects that experiment with different capture technologies and geological formations and benefit all parties involved technically, politically and economically in a carbon-constrained world.

More substantial funding from both the Chinese government and international sources is essential to the deployment and improvement of CCS technologies, and thus reduction of the costs involved. Three main areas are in need of major financial support. The first is large, integrated projects to test commercial-scale technologies, gain experience, identify regulatory issues, and train human resources. The second is research into offshore basins for carbon sequestration to meet the storage needs of China%26rsquo;s heavily industrialised eastern and southern coastal regions, which lack sufficient onshore storage capacity. And the third is detailed, subsurface geological assessments of China%26rsquo;s major onshore sedimentary basins to refine current methodologies and produce more accurate estimates. To develop a CCS industry in China that is also capable of exporting technology and expertise, further policy and economic drivers are needed, such as direct regulation, carbon taxes and emissions-control subsidies.

China will need a wide portfolio of mitigation measures, including CCS, to reduce its carbon footprint. There are many %26ldquo;low-hanging fruit%26rdquo; opportunities that exist for CCS in China, but whether these opportunities are grasped will depend on the extent to which governments, international institutions and corporations engage in meaningful and prompt financing, capacity building and technology and knowledge transfer. This collaboration will not only benefit China but will also be of value to cooperating countries and, ultimately, the wider world.

An earlier version of this article was published by the Natural Resources Defense Council, as %26ldquo;Identifying near-term opportunities for carbon capture and sequestration (CCS) in China%26rdquo;. It is a summary of a full report, co-authored by Jingjing Qian, George Peridas, Jason Chen and Yueming Qiu, Julio Friedmann, Xiaochun Li, Ning Wei, S Ming Sung, Mike Fowler, Deborah Seligsohn, Yue Liu, Sarah Forbes, Dongjie Zhang and Lifeng Zhao.

Homepage image from US Department of Energy’s Office of Fossil Energy

To avoid the worst consequences of global warming, the world must limit average temperature increases to two degrees Celsius or less above pre-industrial levels by reducing carbon dioxide emissions by at least 50% below 1990 levels by the year 2050. Several recent studies have found that the warming we are already committed to will exceed that limit even if emissions growth were to stop completely.

Achieving the urgently needed emissions reductions will require efforts beyond first-resort measures such as increasing energy efficiency, scaling up renewable-energy use, and enhancing natural carbon sinks. Given the world%26rsquo;s current heavy reliance on fossil fuels, some countries, such as China and the United States, need to pursue a wide range of carbon-mitigation strategies that should include carbon capture and storage (CCS).

All three components of CCS technology %26ndash; capture, transport, and sequestration %26ndash; are commercially mature but have mainly been used for other purposes rather than CCS. Very few integrated large-scale projects are in operation today due to the lack of explicit national climate policies to limit carbon-dioxide emissions. For the technology to contribute to meaningful emissions reductions, integrated commercial projects are urgently needed to gain operational experience and drive down costs. Sequestering high-purity carbon-dioxide waste streams from certain industrial facilities reduces the cost of a CCS demonstration project and thus presents a %26ldquo;low-hanging fruit%26rdquo; opportunity. The Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change estimates that CCS is capable of contributing 15% to 55% of worldwide cumulative carbon-emission reductions until the year 2100.

CCS is of particular importance for China. Although the country has made significant strides in expanding capacities in hydro, wind, solar and nuclear power, it still meets 70% of its energy needs through coal. By 2020, China is projected to have four times the hydropower capacity and double the wind and solar-power capacity of the United States but these renewable sources will remain small in comparison to coal consumption.

Chinese researcher Kejun Jiang and colleagues project that, even assuming concerted action to restrict the development of energy-intensive industries, taxation policies to encourage energy efficiency and conservation, strong government support for renewable and nuclear-energy development and high efficiency standards in industrial production, coal will continue to meet more than half of China%26rsquo;s energy demand until 2030. Under this aggressive policy scenario, China%26rsquo;s coal consumption could peak around 2020 and then slightly decrease through 2050. Even if coal consumption decreases, China%26rsquo;s carbon-dioxide emissions from all fossil fuels would not decrease without CCS, but would only level off.

China has promising geological-storage potential. Chinese and US researchers have identified over 1,600 large carbon dioxide point sources, 91% of which are located 160 kilometres or less from potential geological sinks and more than half of which are located directly above a candidate formation.

There are at least 130 megatonnes of high-purity carbon dioxide emitted each year from 185 large-scale ammonia, hydrogen, and ethylene-oxide production facilities, according to Xiaochun Li and Ning Wei of the Chinese Institute of Rock and Soil Mechanics (ISRM). Three-quarters of those high purity carbon-dioxide streams are situated within 80 kilometres of a candidate sink. Such streams could total as much as 208 megatonnes per year in China once all planned ammonia, methanol, and liquid-hydrocarbon production facilities come online, according to research by Zhong Zheng, Eric Larson and others, who have told the NRDC about their work. Because the state where carbon dioxide is separated from a gas mixture is skipped, the costs of CCS for several of these sources can range from US$10 (68 yuan) to US$20 (137 yuan) per metric tonne of carbon dioxide avoided, lower than typical estimates for power plants, these researchers say.

Initial basin-scale assessments, performed and published jointly by Li and Wei of ISRM with the US Pacific Northwest National Laboratory (PNNL), suggest that China%26rsquo;s theoretical sequestration capacity in deep saline formations amounts to 3,066 gigatonnes of carbon dioxide %26ndash; more than 450 times China%26rsquo;s total carbon dioxide emissions in 2005. The practical capacity and matched capacity, however, are expected to be much smaller than the theoretical potential when more factors are taken into account, such as injectivity %26ndash; the rate and pressure the carbon dioxide can be pumped into the target without fracturing the formation %26ndash; the effectiveness of carbon dioxide trapping mechanisms, cap-rock tightness, reservoir size, risk from faults, regulations, infrastructure constraints and economics.

Even though China%26rsquo;s sedimentary basins are large in number, they are also among the most complicated in the world and are characterised by numerous small-scale faults and strong faulting activity. These features have led to the formation of complex geological traps, which indicate that detailed, localised studies and site characterisation will be crucial to ensuring the successful application of CCS.

China%26rsquo;s capacity for carbon dioxide-enhanced oil recovery (EOR) and enhanced gas recovery (EGR) is estimated to be up to 10 gigatonnes of carbon dioxide. While the assessments of oil and gas fields were also conducted at the basin level, the researchers used available field-location information to get greater storage-zone resolution. Unlike deep saline aquifers, oil and gas fields generally have more accurate and detailed geological information. According to ISRM-PNNL joint studies, two-fifths of the large carbon dioxide point sources in China are located within 80 kilometres of an oil or gas field and the estimated incremental oil production by EOR in China%26rsquo;s 16 major onshore and three offshore oil basins could technically reach up to seven billion barrels %26ndash; two and half times China%26rsquo;s current annual oil consumption.

There are a number of near-term opportunities for CCS demonstration in China, including various oil and gas basins that show promising EOR and EGR opportunities from using high-purity carbon dioxide sources or combined waste gas streams. A number of integrated gasification combined cycle (IGCC) projects that are either under construction or in the planning stage have also expressed an intention to conduct a pilot CCS project, as has the Shenhua direct coal-liquefaction plant in Inner Mongolia, northern China.

A number of ammonia plants that are located 50 kilometres to150 kilometres from the oilfields of the Jianghan Basin, in south-central China, collectively emit over four million tonnes of high-purity carbon dioxide per year from manufacturing fertilisers. The combined benefits of short distances between sources and sinks and high potential EOR revenues make the Jianghan area a promising near-term CCS candidate.

The crude natural gas produced at the Jiangyou gas field in western China, contains acid gas %26ndash; carbon dioxide and hydrogen sulfide %26ndash; which needs to be removed from the gas product anyway. And the city of Jiangyou, located less than 25 kilometres away, has several large industrial point sources of low-concentration carbon dioxide. Therefore, one opportunity for low-cost CCS demonstration would be using the acid gas mixed with the industrial low-concentration carbon dioxide, without capture, for EGR.

China%26rsquo;s largest coal producer, the Shenhua Group, has a joint US-China project that aims to collect high-purity carbon dioxide from a direct coal-liquefaction facility in the Ordos Basin of Inner Mongolia and is slated to reach operational status in 2010 or 2011, with an aim to eventually sequester 2.9 megatonnes of pure carbon dioxide per year, most likely in a nearby saline aquifer.

The GreenGen project, mentioned in Li Jia and Xi Liang%26rsquo;s chinadialogue article on the economics of CCS, is led by China%26rsquo;s largest power producer, the Huaneng Group and will be China%26rsquo;s first commercial-scale IGCC facility, with plans to capture 25,000 to 30,000 tonnes of carbon dioxide per year starting in 2012-2013, with a higher target set for 2017. This 250-megawatt IGCC plant is currently under construction in the Bohai Basin in Tianjin, north-eastern China.

The China Power Investment Corporation has proposed an IGCC facility in Langfang, near Beijing, that would capture 8% of the carbon dioxide from the syngas %26ndash; a gas mixture containing varying amounts of carbon monoxide and hydrogen %26ndash; produced by two 488-megawatt IGCC units. An oilfield is only one kilometre away from the facility site, making sequestration through EOR a prime possibility for this project. The project is awaiting the government%26rsquo;s final approval.

In addition, two other large IGCC projects have been proposed and are seeking government approval, one in Dongguan in Guangdong Province, south-eastern China and the other in Lianyungang in Jiangsu Province, eastern China. The Dongguan project would build four 200-megawatt IGCC units and would be situated 100 kilometres from two depleted oilfields, while the Lianyungan project would eventually build 1200 megawatts of IGCC capacity and 1300 megawatts of ultra-supercritical capacity and would be situated in a coastal city 200 kilometres north of the Subei oilfield. Both projects have expressed an interest in combined CCS and EOR.

An earlier version of this article was published by the Natural Resources Defense Council, as %26ldquo;Identifying near-term opportunities for carbon capture and sequestration (CCS) in China%26rdquo;. It is a summary of a full report, co-authored by Jingjing Qian, George Peridas, Jason Chen and Yueming Qiu, Julio Friedmann, Xiaochun Li, Ning Wei, S Ming Sung, Mike Fowler, Deborah Seligsohn, Yue Liu, Sarah Forbes, Dongjie Zhang and Lifeng Zhao.

NEXT: The value of international cooperation

Homepage image from Huaneng shows its planned IGGC plant in Tianjin, north China.

Jared Green: In your new book, Green Metropolis: Why Living Smaller, Living Closer, and Driving Less are the Keys to Sustainability, you argue that New York City is one of the most sustainable cities in the United States because of its high population density. The environmental lessons are: live smaller, live closer and drive less. Why is this agenda central to achieving a more sustainable future?

David Owen: New York City has the smallest per-capita carbon footprint of any American community %26ndash; just 7.1 metric tonnes of greenhouse gases per resident per year, compared with a national average of 24.5. The reason is population density. Shrinking the distance between people %26ndash; and, especially, between people and their destinations %26ndash; reduces energy use, carbon emission and waste in all categories.

The most important factor is automobile use. Cars are bad for the environment not only because they directly consume fuel and emit pollutants but because they facilitate the creation of far greater sources of energy profligacy and environmental damage in form of sprawling communities, oversized dwellings, inefficient commerce and huge networks of redundant civic infrastructure. New York City has the lowest automobile-to-resident ratio of any place in the United States. Fifty-four percent of the city%26rsquo;s households and 77% of Manhattan Island%26rsquo;s households don%26rsquo;t own even one car %26ndash; an unimaginable deprivation almost anywhere else in the country.

New York City looks so different from so much of the rest of the country that its environmental examples aren%26rsquo;t easy to apply. But dense urban centres offer one of the few plausible templates for addressing some of the world%26rsquo;s most discouraging environmental ills, including climate change. We need to find ways to reduce the size of our living spaces, decrease the distance between ourselves and our destinations and begin to wean ourselves away from our near total dependence on automobiles.

JG: You argue that the best environmental investment a city can make should focus on how to make a city more attractive and tolerable for people to live closer together. How can cities fighting sprawl best invest in density?

DO: We must find ways to shift new residential and commercial development away from places where population growth and economic growth exacerbate critical environmental problems. For American cities, that will mean first understanding and then extending the benefits of population density and the thoughtful mixing of uses as well as acknowledging that, in a dense city, the truly important environmental issues are less likely to be things like solar panels on building roofs than they are to be old-fashioned quality-of-life concerns like education, culture, crime, street noise, bad smells, resources for the elderly and the availability of recreational facilities, all of which affect the willingness of people to live in efficient urban cores rather than packing up their children and fleeing to the suburbs.

Issues like these can be tough for traditional environmentalists to come to terms with because they don%26rsquo;t feel green: Where are the organic gardens and the backyard compost heaps? Planting trees along city streets, always a popular initiative, has high environmental utility but not for the reasons that people usually assume: trees are ecologically important in dense urban areas not because they provide temporary repositories for atmospheric carbon %26ndash; the usual argument for planting more of them %26ndash; but because their presence along sidewalks makes city dwellers more cheerful about dwelling in cities. Unfortunately, much conventional environmental activism has the opposite effect since it reinforces the view that urban life is artificial and depraved and makes city residents feel guilty about living where and how they do.

JG: Some argue that city living can add years to your life. What do you see as the most effective design tactic for creating healthy communities?

DO: City dwellers who fantasize about living in the country usually picture themselves hiking, kayaking, gathering eggs from their own chickens and engaging in other robust outdoor activities. But what you actually do when you move out of the city is move into a car because public transit is non-existent and most daily destinations are too widely separated to make walking or bicycling plausible as forms of transportation. Just about the first thing my wife and I did when we moved out of the city 25 years ago was gain 10 pounds apiece because we had gone from a place where we got around mainly by walking to a place where nearly everything we do away from our house requires a car trip.

To get people out of their cars, you have to do two things. First, you have to create enough density to make transit, walking and bicycling conceivable and, second, you have to make driving sufficiently expensive, inconvenient and unpleasant to force people to consider alternatives. You don%26rsquo;t get people out of their cars just by building attractive transit systems. Washington DC has a beautiful subway system, but no one with a car feels compelled to take the train because there%26rsquo;s always a place to park.

Anyone who has spent any time in Manhattan has had the experience of being stuck in traffic in a taxicab and watching a little old lady on the sidewalk overtake them and disappear into the distance. That%26rsquo;s a very green experience.

JG: At street level, you point to design professionals who are implementing %26ldquo;traffic calming%26rdquo; measures that make communities more pedestrian-friendly. In Europe, you point to the idea of %26ldquo;shared spaces%26rdquo;, which increase the ambiguity of urban road spaces and, instead of creating more accidents, actually force drivers to slow down. Please describe this concept.

DO: Shared space is a technique for controlling traffic by blurring, rather than sharply delineating, the boundaries between driving areas and walking areas; by making strategic use of traffic-impeding %26ldquo;street furniture,%26rdquo; such as plantings, benches and bicycle racks; and by eliminating traffic lights, stop signs, lane markings and other traditional controls. This sounds to many people like a formula for disaster, but the clear experience in the (mainly) European cities that have tried it has been that increasing the ambiguity of urban road spaces actually lowers car speeds, reduces accident rates and improves the lives of pedestrians: drivers proceed more warily when they aren%26rsquo;t completely certain what%26rsquo;s going on.

JG: Author and naturalist Henry David Thoreau in his cabin %26ndash; an iconic image of man at one with nature and living self-sufficiently off the land %26ndash; you argue, set the %26ldquo;American pattern%26rdquo; for a kind of %26ldquo;creeping residential development.%26rdquo; Do you think many environmentalists are anti-urban?

DO: Americans tend to think of dense cities as despoilers of the natural landscape, but urban density actually helps to preserve it. Preaching the sanctity of open spaces helps to propel development into those very spaces and the process is self-reinforcing.

Thoreau wasn%26rsquo;t actually much of an outdoorsman, and his cabin was closer to the centre of Concord, [Massachusetts, north-eastern United States], than to any true wilderness, but for many Americans he remains the archetype %26ndash; the natural philosopher guiltlessly living off the grid, a mile from his nearest neighbour. Yet he actually set a very bad example, because anyone seeking to replicate his experience needed to move another mile farther along. Wild landscapes are less often destroyed by people who despise wild landscapes than by people who love them, or think they do. From an environmental point of view, dense cities are scalable; Thoreau%26rsquo;s cabin is not.

JG: In the suburbs, homeowners are spending more than US$40 billion (273 billion yuan) per year on 129,000 square kilometres of lawns. However, despite all this investment in residential outdoor spaces, they aren%26rsquo;t being used. How do you think residential landscapes should be re-developed so people re-engage with nature?

DO: The problem with almost any initiative aimed at %26ldquo;re-engaging people with nature%26rdquo; is that it tends to encourage the very kind of sprawling, wasteful residential development that threatens unspoiled areas in the first place. The way to protect natural landscapes is to concentrate human development, not to spread it out so that each of us can claim a small piece of it as our very own.

Environmentalists and urban planners sometimes say that, in order to get people out of their cars and onto their feet, developed areas need become more like the country by incorporating extended %26ldquo;greenways%26rdquo; and other attractive, vegetated pedestrian corridors. It%26rsquo;s true that such features, along with parks and natural areas, can encourage some people to take walks. But, if the goal is to get people to embrace walking as a form of practical transportation, oversized greenways can actually be counterproductive. Walking-as-transportation requires closely paced, accessible destinations, not broad expanses of leafy scenery. If you want to see people moving around under their own power under the sky, don%26rsquo;t go to the country or the suburbs; go downtown.

Jared Green is web content and strategy manager at the American Society of Landscape Architects.

David Owen is a staff writer for The New Yorker and the author of a dozen books.

This interview was first published by the American Society of Landscape Architects. It is reproduced here with permission.

Homepage image by Al_HikesAZ

Residents in Shanghai%26rsquo;s Baoshan district have, for years, endured the ghastly smells produced by Shanghai Richina Leather and other tanneries owned by its multinational parent company, Richina Group. Yet there is almost nothing in the Chinese media about this corporation and few would recognise the name of its boss, financier Yan Ciliang

Yan Ciliang, or Richard Yan as he is known in English, is the founder of the Richina Group and legal representative of all its subsidiaries. Born in China, educated at Harvard, and now a citizen of New Zealand, Yan is vice-chair of the board of directors of the China Leather Association.

At first glance, Yan%26rsquo;s life looks like a classic success story. In 1981, he became the first Chinese secondary-school student to win a Rotary Scholarship to study English at Auckland Grammar School in the New Zealand capital, and he went on to attend Auckland University. In 1985, he worked at Westpac Bank in Sydney, Australia, which later funded his MBA at the US%26rsquo;s prestigious Harvard Business School. Then, in 1992, the American Ziff family became the principal investors in a US$52.5 million (358 million yuan) investment fund and, the following year, Yan and Harvard classmate Susanna Foels founded Richina Capital Partners to manage that fund. Thus was born the Richina Group.

To date, the group%26rsquo;s subsidiaries occupy four main fields. One is Yan%26rsquo;s original line of work: finance. Richina%26rsquo;s financial business is concentrated in its wholly-owned Chinese holding company, Richina Pacific (China) Investments. This company provides a wide range of financial and business services for multinationals headquartered in Shanghai. Its own parent company, Richina Pacific, de-listed from the New Zealand stock exchange in a 2008 restructuring that left many former shareholders unhappy. The firm%26rsquo;s registered office is now in Bermuda with its operational headquarters in Malaysia.

Richina is also invested in tourism, including in the Blue Zoo Beijing and the Jinjiang Inn, a hotel in central Shanghai. The company also runs restaurants, shops and hotel-style apartments and owns car parks and a taxi fleet in Shanghai. Richina%26rsquo;s construction portfolio includes the wholly-owned subsidiary Mainzeal, a major New Zealand property and construction firm.

The group%26rsquo;s interest in leather and associated products is run by Richina Industries, which oversees Shanghai Richina Leather and the Shanghai Leather Company, processing leather, manufacturing leather footwear, clothing, sporting goods, luggage, furnishings and car upholstery and leather chemical products.

On February 27, 2003, New Zealand%26rsquo;s second largest daily newspaper, The Dominion Post, reported that the Richina Group owed its profits that year largely to the Chinese market. According to the report, Richina Pacific had turned a loss of NZ$15.3 million (73.9 million yuan) to a profit of NZ$8 million (38.6 million yuan) in a single year. A significant return from Shanghai Richina Leather, a focal point for the group, was credited with the turnaround.

One name on the list of Richina Group executives is symptomatic of Yan%26rsquo;s highly placed connections. Jenny Shipley, the independent chair of the Mainzeal board, formerly independent director of Richina Pacific and chair of Richina Leather, was once prime minister of New Zealand. In July of 1999, Shipley paid a working visit to China at the invitation of Jiang Zemin.

In May 2007, Yan Ciliang generously funded the Peking University New Zealand Centre, co-founded by Auckland Peking universities. The opening ceremony was attended by New Zealand%26rsquo;s foreign minister, Winston Peters, with a distinguished list of ambassadors and officials.

According to a reliable source, the Richina group is about to reorganise its Chinese operations, relocating its leather production to a new facility in Liaoning and capitalising on the property value of its Shanghai Leather portfolio for residential and commercial development. The relocation will finally end the long nightmare of Richina%26rsquo;s Shanghai neighbours, according to Richina Industries president and chief executive Bob Moore. %26ldquo;By October 2010, we will have built a dedicated leather-tanning plant to take on the production halted in Shanghai due to odours,%26rdquo; he said.

Yan has never responded in person to questions on Richina%26rsquo;s constant environmental violations. Asked what Yan thinks of the company%26rsquo;s environmental record, Bob Moore replies carefully: %26ldquo;Yan Ciliang is the investor and we are his managers. All the responsibility is ours. Yan certainly wants Richina Leather to reach world-class environmental standards and we will work hard to achieve that goal.%26rdquo;

Xu Shuda is a reporter based in Shanghai.

Homepage image from Qinghemen Archives shows Yan Ciliang (middle), founder of the Richina Group.

Tin-mine pits are like enormous open wounds dominating the landscape of island Bangka, near Sumatra and only 40 minutes flight from the Indonesian capital, Jakarta. Even from the air it is obvious that the island is a textbook example of man-made environmental calamity. Only a few tiny pockets of natural forest remain, surrounded by rubber and palm-oil plantations.

The island of Bangka, home to around 650,000 people, is known for its white beaches. But most of these are now covered by garbage and exhibit the latest %26ldquo;cultural trend%26rdquo;: affluent young people and families bring their cars and scooters to the seafront and drive back and forth on the sand until late in the evening. Silence %26ndash; once the last attraction of the island %26ndash; is gone, replaced by the roar of engines. The beach, decorated by some fantastic rock structures, is now badly polluted.

Just a few miles across the sea from Bangka, a dilapidated hydrofoil (one of which recently sank) enters the magnificent Sungai Musi River, one of the mighty rivers of Sumatra Island. While I admire the surface of the river from the boat, a local student suggests I look between the trees separating the river bank and the interior: %26ldquo;Try to catch the moment %26ndash; the opening. You will see, there is nothing left of the forest.%26rdquo;

One hour later, this black smoke and pop-music belching craft docks at the port of the city of Palembang. With 1.5 million inhabitants, the city is the second largest in Sumatra and one of the most populous in Indonesia. It is one of the most appalling urban centres on the Asian continent, with hardly anything to offer except a handful of Dutch-era buildings and several picturesque traditional houses on stilts inhabited by the very poor. Although located some 80 kilometres from the coast, Palembang is a vast seaport with huge vessels docked at the banks and in the middle of the Musi River. The river and the streams that feed into her are not just polluted, they appear to be positively toxic.

Inflated carcasses of dogs and other animals are floating on the surface of the river, together with industrial waste, debris, bottles and simple household waste. Palembang is home to oil refineries as well as cement and fertiliser plants. It sits in the middle of two major areas of unbridled deforestation on the island of Sumatra. While Indonesia is often referred to as the %26ldquo;ground zero%26rdquo; of climate change, Palembang should be considered one of its most telling monuments.

Isna Wijayani Lexy is professor of journalism at the Faculty of Social and Political Science in Sumatra%26rsquo;s Baturaja University. Hers is one of the few outspoken voices in this part of the world: %26ldquo;Illegal loggers can usually count on backing from the police, military, local government officials and thugs,%26rdquo; she says. %26ldquo;Media only cover raids against the loggers, that is, if there are raids. Even then it is very rare that journalists cover them on their own as they are usually short of funds and can%26rsquo;t just go up or down the river as they please.

%26ldquo;On this, as well as many other topics, there is news hegemony and no diversity in content. The local journalists dare not take risks. Journalists in Palembang only look for easy news and if they have been %26lsquo;serviced%26rsquo; (bribed), bad or critical news will not be published. Money talks here, even when it comes to the news.%26rdquo;

There are plenty of alarming reports by local academics and international observers about the archipelago%26rsquo;s disappearing rainforests and unbearable pollution levels in all major Indonesian cities. But there are few sound analyses that link all the factors that make Indonesia, environmentally, one of the most battered nations on earth: corruption, governmental incompetence, the powerful position of armed forces and unbridled pursuit of profits utilising the easiest and often least-sustainable means.

Restraint was broken on January 29, 2010, when The Jakarta Globe reprinted an Agence France%26ndash;Presse report on an academic study into illegal logging in the forest bordering Malaysia on the island of Borneo, which began: %26ldquo;The Indonesian military is deeply involved in the trade in illegally felled timber that is destroying vast tracts of pristine forest and contributing to global warming, researchers said Friday.%26rdquo; But, given the combination of state controls and the silence of the media, the public remains largely uninformed about the environmental and social disasters that are devastating their country.

Despite pollution, the River Musi is still one of the mightiest waterways of south-east Asia. The misery along this waterway is on a par with some of the poorest parts of Africa. Tiny villages and towns along the shores are lost in time, often cut off from the rest of the country. Upang town is built on stilts. It is an expensive one-hour boat ride from Palembang at breakneck speed and survives by supplying riverboats with fuel and food. Upang sits at the heart of the Musi River%26rsquo;s illegal logging trade.

Two young girls, Linda and Yanti, are working in a local eatery. %26ldquo;Each household has people who work across the river on %26lsquo;cleared land%26rsquo;,%26rdquo; explains Linda. %26ldquo;People from the entire area are working on %26lsquo;cleared land%26rsquo;, many doing the %26lsquo;clearing%26rsquo; itself. There are no permits necessary and no taxes; nobody checks.%26rdquo;

The girls explain that their monthly income is 20,000 to 30,000 Indonesia rupiahs (US$2 to US$3). %26ldquo;My dream is to become rich,%26rdquo; says Yanti. %26ldquo;If I were rich, I would give alms (zakat) and then travel. I would go to Bandung and to Jakarta. I would visit the National Monument.%26rdquo; Neither girl has ever left Upang %26ndash; not even to visit Palembang, 25 miles up the river.

The girls have no knowledge about deforestation. They know it only as %26ldquo;clearing the land%26rdquo;, something good for planting rice and palm oil. They had no idea what global warming is either. We ask the same question of several people along the Musi River and always receive the same answer %26ndash; incomprehension and bewilderment on their faces. Rural Indonesia is extremely poor and underdeveloped and moral and ethical questions here are simply perceived as odd. Caring for the environment and the world are luxuries most impoverished Indonesians cannot afford while, for the rich rulers of this nation, they are simply not profitable enough.

As we sail across the river and slowly progress towards Palembang, the full horror of the deforestation suddenly emerges: hundreds of square miles of rainforest destroyed and replaced by tremendous bare plains; some areas still burning. There are bags with chemicals and bottles of spray scattered all over the earth. Even for those who are not experts on the environment, this could hardly appear to be anything other than unbridled, gross and brutal rape of nature.

At one of the epicentres of the disaster, Sawah Upang, we spot an old couple sitting in front of their house. They wave and happily explain their presence there: %26ldquo;We are from Palembang. Five years ago we bought the land here from other people from Upang. Now we have our rice fields here.%26rdquo; Deforestation? Global warming? They both smile, not comprehending.

On the way back to Palembang it begins to rain. Huge rusty cargo ships stand in the middle of the river like tremendous ghosts, while the factory chimneys regurgitate colourful smoke skyward, even in this heavy downpour. Streams bring brown and foamy liquid to the river. All around is misery, dirt and hopelessness %26ndash; so common in today%26rsquo;s Indonesia but here, somehow, brought to the extreme.

Indonesia achieved the world%26rsquo;s fastest rate of deforestation between 2000 and 2005, with an area the size of 300 football fields removed every hour, according to Greenpeace. The country has already lost over 70% of its intact ancient forests and half of what is left is threatened by commercial logging, forest fires and clearances for palm-oil plantations. And the greed seems to know no bounds.

No matter how pressing, the environmental issues cannot be separated from the general and continuous decay of the Indonesian state %26ndash; from its endemic corruption, impunity of armed forces, extreme breed of market fundamentalism and tendency to put faith above rational thinking.

Andre Vltchek is a novelist, journalist and filmmaker.

An earlier version of this article was published as: Andre Vltchek and Geoffrey Gunn, %26quot;In the Tropical Forests of Sumatra: Notes from Climate Change %26lsquo;Ground Zero,%26rsquo;%26rdquo; The Asia-Pacific Journal, 7-2-10, February 15, 2010. It is used here with permission.

Homepage image from Greenpeace