Paper or plastic?

29 10 2014

The use of plastic bags is still bugging me. We use 1,000,000 plastic bags on this Earth every minute.

According to The Earth Policy Institute, the plastic bag was invented in Sweden in 1962.  The single-use plastic shopping bag was first popularized by Mobil Oil in the 1970s in an attempt to increase its market for polyethylene, a fossil-fuel derived compound.

And the question is not paper vs. plastic, because they’re both bad:

• Both plastic and paper bags gobble up valuable natural resources for a single use, disposable product.

• Both have negative impacts on wildlife and pollute our environment.
• Both create significant toxic by-products during their lifecycles
• Neither is effectively recycled.

The answer is to use something that can be used again and again.   And that means remembering to bring the reusable bag with you.  You can also carry small items without a bag, especially if you’re just going to your car.  So it’s really whether you – and I – will change our single use habit and put reuseable bags in our cars, purses and homes so that they’re available to use when you need them! The following graphic appeared in The Washington Post in 2007 and helps put this all in perspective:

Paper vs. Plastic





Climate change and the textile industry

15 10 2014

Time sure flies doesn’t it?  I’ve been promising to reiterate the effects the textile industry has on climate change, so I’m re-posting a blog post we published in 2013:

In considering fabric for your sofa, let’s be altruistic and look at the impact textile production has on global climate change. (I only use the term altruistic because many of us don’t equate climate change with our own lives, though there have been several interesting studies of just how the changes will impact us directly,like the one in USA Today that explains that wet regions will be wetter, causing flash flooding; dry regions will get drier, resulting in drought. And … a heat wave that used to occur once every 100 years now happens every five years (1)).

Although most of the current focus on lightening our carbon footprint revolves around transportation and heating issues, the modest little fabric all around you turns out to be from an industry with a gigantic carbon footprint. The textile industry, according to the U.S. Energy Information Administration, is the 5th largest contributor to CO2 emissions in the United States, after primary metals, nonmetallic mineral products, petroleum and chemicals.[2] And the U.S. textile industry is small potatoes when compared with some other countries I could mention.

The textile industry is huge, and it is a huge producer of greenhouse gasses (GHG’s). Today’s textile industry is one of the largest sources of greenhouse gasses  on Earth, due to this huge size.[3] In 2008, annual global textile production was estimated at 60 billion kilograms (KG) of fabric. The estimated energy and water needed to produce that amount of fabric boggles the mind:

  • 1,074 billion kWh of electricity or 132 million metric tons of coal and
  • between 6 – 9 trillion liters of water[4]

Fabrics are the elephant in the room. They’re all around us but no one is thinking about them. We simply overlook fabrics, maybe because they are almost always used as a component in a final product that seems rather innocuous: sheets, blankets, sofas, curtains, and of course clothing. Textiles, including clothing, accounted for about one ton of the 19.8 tons of total CO2 emissions produced by each person in the U.S. in 2006. [5] By contrast, a person in Haiti produced a total of only 0.21 tons of total carbon emissions in 2006.[6]
Your textile choices do make a difference, so it’s vitally important to look beyond thread counts, color and abrasion results.
How do you evaluate the carbon footprint in any fabric? Look at the “embodied energy’ in the fabric – that is, all of the energy used at each step of the process needed to create that fabric. Not an easy thing to do! To estimate the embodied energy in any fabric it’s necessary to add the energy required in two separate fabric production steps:

  1. Find out what the fabric is made from, because the type of fiber tells you a lot about the energy needed to make the fibers used in the yarn. The carbon footprint of various fibers varies a lot, so start with the energy required to produce the fiber.
  2. Next, add the energy used to weave those yarns into fabric. Once any material becomes a “yarn” or “filament”, the amount of energy and conversion process to weave that yarn into a textile is pretty consistent, whether the yarn is wool, cotton, or synthetic.[7)

Let’s look at #1 first: the energy needed to make the fibers and create the yarn. For ease of comparison we’ll divide the fiber types into “natural” (from plants, animals and less commonly, minerals) and “synthetic” (man made):

For natural fibers you must look at field preparation, planting and field operations (mechanized irrigation, weed control, pest control and fertilizers (manure vs. synthetic chemicals)), harvesting and yields. Synthetic fertilizer use is a major component of the high cost of conventional agriculture: making just one ton of nitrogen fertilizer emits nearly 7 tons of CO2 equivalent greenhouse gases.
For synthetics, a crucial fact is that the fibers are made from fossil fuels. Very high amounts of energy are used in extracting the oil from the ground as well as in the production of the polymers.
A study done by the Stockholm Environment Institute on behalf of the BioRegional Development Group concludes that the energy used (and therefore the CO2 emitted) to create 1 ton of spun fiber is much higher for synthetics than for hemp or cotton:

KG of CO2 emissions per ton of spun fiber:
crop cultivation fiber production TOTAL
polyester USA 0 9.52 9.52
cotton, conventional, USA 4.2 1.7 5.9
hemp, conventional 1.9 2.15 4.05
cotton, organic, India 2 1.8 3.8
cotton, organic, USA 0.9 1.45 2.35

 

The table above only gives results for polyester; other synthetics have more of an impact: acrylic is 30% more energy intensive in its production than polyester [8] and nylon is even higher than that.
Not only is the quantity of GHG emissions of concern regarding synthetics, so too are the kinds of gasses produced during production of synthetic fibers. Nylon, for example, creates emissions of N2O, which is 300 times more damaging than CO2 [9] and which, because of its long life (120 years) can reach the upper atmosphere and deplete the layer of stratospheric ozone, which is an important filter of UV radiation. In fact, during the 1990s, N2O emissions from a single nylon plant in the UK were thought to have a global warming impact equivalent to more than 3% of the UK’s entire CO2 emissions.[10] A study done for the New Zealand Merino Wool Association shows how much less total energy is required for the production of natural fibers than synthetics:

 

Embodied Energy used in production of various fibers:
Energy use in MJ per KG of fiber:
flax fibre (MAT) 10
cotton 55
wool 63
Viscose 100
Polypropylene 115
Polyester 125
acrylic 175
Nylon 250
SOURCE: “LCA: New Zealand Merino Wool Total Energy Use”, Barber and Pellow, http://www.tech.plym.ac.uk/sme/mats324/mats324A9%20NFETE.htm

Natural fibers, in addition to having a smaller carbon footprint in the production of the spun fiber, have many additional benefits:

  • being able to be degraded by micro-organisms and composted (improving soil structure); in this way the fixed CO2 in the fiber will be released and the cycle closed. Synthetics do not decompose: in landfills they release heavy metals and other additives into soil and groundwater. Recycling requires costly separation, while incineration produces pollutants – in the case of high density polyethylene, 3 tons of CO2 emissions are produced for ever 1 ton of material burnt.[11] Left in the environment, synthetic fibers contribute, for example, to the estimated 640,000 tons of abandoned fishing nets in the world’s oceans.
  • sequestering carbon. Sequestering carbon is the process through which CO2 from the atmosphere is absorbed by plants through photosynthesis and stored as carbon in biomass (leaves, stems, branches, roots, etc.) and soils. Jute, for example, absorbs 2.4 tons of carbon per ton of dry fiber.[12]

Substituting organic fibers for conventionally grown fibers is not just a little better – but lots better in all respects:

  • uses less energy for production, emits fewer greenhouse gases and supports organic farming (which has myriad environmental, social and health benefits).  A study published by Innovations Agronomiques (2009) found that 43% fewer GHGs are emitted per unit area under organic agriculture than under conventional agriculture.[13] A study done by Dr. David Pimentel of Cornell University found that organic farming systems used just 63% of the energy required by conventional farming systems, largely because of the massive amounts of energy requirements needed to synthesize nitrogen fertilizers. Further it was found in controlled long term trials that organic farming adds between 100-400kg of carbon per hectare to the soil each year, compared to non-organic farming. When this stored carbon is included in the carbon footprint, it reduces the total GHG even further.[14] The key lies in the handling of organic matter (OM): because soil organic matter is primarily carbon, increases in soil OM levels will be directly correlated with carbon sequestration. While conventional farming typically depletes soil OM, organic farming builds it through the use of composted animal manures and cover crops

Taking it one step further beyond the energy inputs we’re looking at, which help to mitigate climate change, organic farming helps to ensure other environmental and social goals:

  • eliminates the use of synthetic fertilizers, pesticides and genetically modified organisims (GMOs) which is an improvement in human health and agrobiodiversity
  • conserves water (making the soil more friable so rainwater is absorbed better – lessening irrigation requirements and erosion)
  • ensures sustained biodiversity
  • and compared to forests, agricultural soils may be a more secure sink for atmospheric carbon, since they are not vulnerable to logging and wildfire.

Organic agriculture is an undervalued and underestimated climate change tool that could be one of the most powerful strategies in the fight against global warming, according to Paul Hepperly, Rodale Institute Research Manager. The Rodale Institute Farming Systems Trial (FST) soil carbon data (which covers 30 years) provides convincing evidence that improved global terrestrial stewardship–specifically including regenerative organic agricultural practices–can be the most effective currently available strategy for mitigating CO2 emissions.

At the fiber level it is clear that synthetics have a much bigger footprint than does any natural fiber, including wool or conventionally produced cotton. So in terms of the carbon footprint at the fiber level, any natural fiber beats any synthetic – at this point in time. Best of all is an organic natural fiber.
And next let’s look at #2, the energy needed to weave those yarns into fabric.
There is no dramatic difference in the amount of energy needed to weave fibers into fabric depending on fiber type.[15] The processing is generally the same whether the fiber is nylon, cotton, hemp, wool or polyester: thermal energy required per meter of cloth is 4,500-5,500 Kcal and electrical energy required per meter of cloth is 0.45-0.55 kwh. [16] This translates into huge quantities of fossil fuels – both to create energy directly needed to power the mills, produce heat and steam, and power air conditioners, as well as indirectly to create the many chemicals used in production. In addition, the textile industry has one of the lowest efficiencies in energy utilization because it is largely antiquated.

#######
(1) http://www.usatoday.com/story/news/nation/2013/02/28/climate-change-remaking-america/1917169/
(2) Source: Energy Information Administration, Form EIA:848, “2002 Manufacturing Energy Consumption Survey,” Form EIA-810, “Monthly Refinery Report” (for 2002) and Documentatioin for Emissions of Greenhouse Gases in the United States 2003 (May 2005). http://www.eia.doe.gov/emeu/aer/txt/ptb1204.html
(3) Dev, Vivek, “Carbon Footprint of Textiles”, April 3, 2009, http://www.domain-b.com/environment/20090403_carbon_footprint.html
(4) Rupp, Jurg, “Ecology and Economy in Textile Finishing”, Textile World, Nov/Dec 2008
(5) Rose, Coral, “CO2 Comes Out of the Closet”, GreenBiz.com, September 24, 2007
(6) U.S. Energy Information Administration, “International Energy Annual 2006”, posted Dec 8, 2008.
(7) Many discussions of energy used to produce fabrics or final products made from fabrics (such as clothing) take the “use” phase of the article into consideration when evaluating the carbon footprint. The argument goes that laundering the blouse (or whatever) adds considerably to the final energy tally for natural fibers, while synthetics don’t need as much water to wash nor as many launderings. We do not take this component into consideration because
. it applies only to clothing; even sheets aren’t washed as often as clothing while upholstery is seldom cleaned.
. is biodegradeable detergent used?
. Is the washing machine used a new low water machine? Is the water treated by a municipal facility?
. Synthetics begin to smell if not treated with antimicrobials, raising the energy score.
Indeed, it’s important to evaluate the sponsors of any published studies, because the studies done which evaluate the energy used to manufacture fabrics are often sponsored by organizations which might have an interest in the outcome. Additionally, the data varies quite a bit so we have adopted the values which seem to be agreed upon by most studies.
(8) Ibid.
(9) “Tesco carbon footprint study confirms organic farming is energy efficient, but excludes key climate benefit of organic farming, soil carbon”, Prism Webcast News, April 30, 2008, http://prismwebcastnews.com/2008/04/30/tesco-carbon-footprint-study-confirms-organic-farming%E2%80%99s-energy-efficiency-but-excludes-key-climate-benefit-of-organic-farming-%E2%80%93-soil-carbon/
(10) Fletcher, Kate, Sustainable Fashion and Textiles, Earthscan, 2008, Page 13
(11) “Why Natural Fibers”, FAO, 2009: http://www.naturalfibres2009.org/en/iynf/sustainable.html
(12) Ibid.
(13) Aubert, C. et al., (2009) Organic farming and climate change: major conclusions of the Clermont-Ferrand seminar (2008) [Agriculture biologique et changement climatique : principales conclusions du colloque de Clermont-Ferrand (2008)]. Carrefours de l’Innovation Agronomique 4. Online at
(14) International Trade Centre UNCTAD/WTO and Research Institute of Organic Agriculture (FiBL); Organic Farming and Climate Change; Geneva: ITC, 2007.
(15) 24th session of the FAO Committee on Commodity Problems IGG on Hard Fibers of the United Nations
(16) “Improving profits with energy-efficiency enhancements”, December 2008, Journal for Asia on Textile and Apparel, http://textile.2456.com/eng/epub/n_details.asp?epubiid=4&id=3296





Climate change and the Louisiana delta

8 09 2014

 

In the August 28, 2014 issue of Huff Post Green, an article by Bob Marshall of The Lens caught me eye, because it’s another instance of climate change affecting the landscape in one of our most vulnerable areas: the Louisiana delta. I’ve excerpted some of it; if you want to read the full article, click here. So NEXT post will be about how the textile industry is contributing to climate change!

Al Shaw of ProPublica and Brian Jacobs of Knight-Mozilla Open News

Al Shaw of ProPublica and Brian Jacobs of Knight-Mozilla Open News

In just 80 years, some 2,000 square miles of Louisiana’s coastal landscape have turned to open water, wiping places off maps, bringing the Gulf of Mexico to the back door of New Orleans and posing a lethal threat to an energy and shipping corridor vital to the nation’s economy.

And it’s going to get worse, even quicker.

Scientists now say one of the greatest environmental and economic disasters in the nation’s history is rushing toward a catastrophic conclusion over the next 50 years, so far unabated and largely unnoticed.

At the current rates that the sea is rising and land is sinking, National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration scientists say by 2100 the Gulf of Mexico could rise as much as 4.3 feet across this landscape, which has an average elevation of about 3 feet. If that happens, everything outside the protective levees — most of Southeast Louisiana — would be underwater.

 The effects would be felt far beyond bayou country. The region best known for its self-proclaimed motto “laissez les bons temps rouler” — let the good times roll — is one of the nation’s economic linchpins.

 This land being swallowed by the Gulf is home to half of the country’s oil refineries, a matrix of pipelines that serve 90 percent of the nation’s offshore energy production and 30 percent of its total oil and gas supply, a port vital to 31 states, and 2 million people who would need to find other places to live.

 The landscape on which all that is built is washing away at a rate of a football field every hour, 16 square miles per year.

For years, most residents didn’t notice because they live inside the levees and seldom travel into the wetlands. But even those who work or play in the marshes were misled for decades by the gradual changes in the landscape. A point of land eroding here, a bayou widening there, a spoil levee sinking a foot over 10 years. In an ecosystem covering thousands of square miles, those losses seemed insignificant. There always seemed to be so much left.

Now locals are trying to deal with the shock of losing places they had known all their lives — fishing camps, cypress swamps, beachfronts, even cattle pastures and backyards — with more disappearing every day.

The story of how that happened is a tale of levees, oil wells and canals leading to destruction on a scale almost too big to comprehend — and perhaps too late to rebuild. It includes chapters on ignorance, unintended consequences and disregard for scientific warnings. It’s a story that is still unfolding.

By the time New Orleans was founded in 1718, the main channel of the river was the beating heart of a system pumping sediment and nutrients through a vast circulatory network that stretched from present-day Baton Rouge south to Grand Isle, west to Texas and east to Mississippi. As late as 1900, new land was pushing out into the Gulf of Mexico.

A scant 70 years later, that huge, vibrant wetlands ecosystem would be at death’s door. The exquisite natural plumbing that made it all possible had been dismantled, piece by piece, to protect coastal communities and extract oil and gas.

 For communities along its banks, the Mississippi River has always been an indispensable asset and their gravest threat. The river connected their economies to the rest of the world, but its spring floods periodically breached locally built levees, quickly washing away years of profits and scores of lives. Some towns were so dependent on the river, they simply got used to rebuilding.

o-LOUISIANA-WETLAND-570

That all changed with the Great Flood of 1927.

Swollen by months of record rainfall across the watershed, the Mississippi broke through levees in 145 places, flooding the midsection of the country from Illinois to New Orleans. Some 27,000 square miles went under as much as 30 feet of water, destroying 130,000 homes, leaving 600,000 people homeless and killing 500.

Stunned by what was then the worst natural disaster in U.S. history, Congress passed the Flood Control Act of 1928, which ordered the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers to prevent such a flood from ever happening again. By the mid-1930s, the corps had done its job, putting the river in a straitjacket of levees.

But the project that made the river safe for the communities along the river would eventually squeeze the life out of the delta. The mud walls along the river sealed it off from the landscape sustained by its sediment. Without it, the sinking of land that only occurred during dry cycles would start, and never stop.

If that were all we had done to the delta, scientists have said, the wetlands that existed in the 1930s could largely be intact today. The natural pace of sinking — scientists call it subsidence — would have been mere millimeters per year.

But we didn’t stop there. Just as those levees were built, a nascent oil and gas industry discovered plentiful reserves below the delta’s marshes, swamps and ridges.

At the time, wetlands were widely considered worthless — places that produced only mosquitoes, snakes and alligators. The marsh was a wilderness where few people could live, or even wanted to.

There were no laws protecting wetlands. Besides, more than 80 percent of this land was in the hands of private landowners who were happy to earn a fortune from worthless property.

Free to choose the cheapest, most direct way to reach drilling sites, oil companies dredged canals off natural waterways to transport rigs and work crews. The canals averaged 13 to 16 feet deep and 140 to 150 feet wide — far larger than natural, twisting waterways.

 Eventually, some 50,000 wells were permitted in the coastal zone. The state estimates that roughly 10,000 miles of canals were dredged to service them, although that only accounts for those covered by permitting systems. The state began to require some permits in the 1950s, but rigorous accounting didn’t begin until the Clean Water Act brought federal agencies into play in 1972.

“Once the oil companies come in and started dredging all the canals, everything just started falling apart,” said Joseph Bourgeois, 84, who grew up and still lives in the area.

From 1930 to 1990, as much as 16 percent of the wetlands was turned to open water as those canals were dredged. But as the U.S. Department of the Interior and many others have reported, the indirect damages far exceeded that:

  • Saltwater creeped in

Canal systems leading to the Gulf allowed saltwater into the heart of freshwater marshes and swamps, killing plants and trees whose roots held the soils together. As a side effect, the annual supply of plant detritus — one way a delta disconnected from its river can maintain its elevation — was seriously reduced.

  • Shorelines crumbled

Without fresh sediment and dead plants, shorelines began to collapse, increasing the size of existing water bodies. Wind gained strength over ever-larger sections of open water, adding to land loss. Fishers and other boaters used canals as shortcuts across the wetlands; their wakes also sped shoreline erosion. In some areas, canals grew twice as wide within five years.

  • Spoil levees buried and trapped wetlands

When companies dredged canals, they dumped the soil they removed alongside, creating “spoil levees” that could rise higher than 10 feet and twice as wide.

The weight of the spoil on the soft, moist delta caused the adjacent marshes to sink. In locations of intense dredging, spoil levees impounded acres of wetlands. The levees also impeded the flow of water — and sediments — over wetlands during storm tides.

If there were 10,000 miles of canals, there were 20,000 miles of levees. Researchers estimate that canals and levees eliminated or covered 8 million acres of wetlands.

 All this disrupted the delta’s natural hydrology — its circulatory system — and led to the drowning of vast areas. Researchers have shown that land has sunk and wetlands have disappeared the most in areas where canals were concentrated.

There are other forces at work, including a series of geologic faults in the delta and the rock layers beneath, but a U.S. Department of Interior report says oil and gas canals are ultimately responsible for 30 to 59 percent of coastal land loss. In some areas of Barataria Bay, it’s close to 90 percent.

 Even more damage was to come as the oil and gas industry shifted offshore in the late 1930s, eventually planting about 7,000 wells in the Gulf. To carry that harvest to onshore refineries, companies needed more underwater pipelines. So they dug wider, deeper waterways to accommodate the large ships that served offshore platforms.

 Congress authorized the Corps of Engineers to dredge about 550 miles of navigation channels through the wetlands. The Department of Interior has estimated that those canals, averaging 12 to 15 feet deep and 150 to 500 feet wide, resulted in the loss of an additional 369,000 acres of coastal land.

 Researchers eventually would show that the damage wasn’t due to surface activities alone. When all that oil and gas was removed from below some areas, the layers of earth far below compacted and sank. Studies have shown that coastal subsidence has been highest in some areas with the highest rates of extraction.

 The oil and gas industry, one of the state’s most powerful political forces, has acknowledged some role in the damages, but so far has defeated efforts to force companies to pay for it.

 Even as politicians fought the lawsuit, it was hard to deny what was happening on the ground.

By 2000, coastal roads that had flooded only during major hurricanes were going underwater when high tides coincided with strong southerly winds. Islands and beaches that had been landmarks for lifetimes were gone, lakes had turned into bays, and bays had eaten through their borders to join the Gulf.

Today, in some basins around New Orleans, land is sinking an inch every 30 months. At this pace, by the end of the century this land will sink almost 3 feet in an area that’s barely above sea level today.

Meanwhile, global warming is causing seas to rise worldwide. Coastal landscapes everywhere are now facing a serious threat, but none more so than Southeast Louisiana.

The federal government projects that seas along the U.S. coastline will rise 1.5 to 4.5 feet by 2100. Southeast Louisiana would see “at least” 4 to 5 feet, said NOAA scientist Tim Osborn.

 The difference: This sediment-starved delta is sinking at one of the fastest rates of any large coastal landscape on the planet at the same time the oceans are rising.

Maps used by researchers to illustrate what the state will look like in 2100 under current projections show the bottom of Louisiana’s “boot” outline largely gone, replaced by a coast running practically straight east to west, starting just south of Baton Rouge. The southeast corner of the state is represented only by two fingers of land – the areas along the Mississippi River and Bayou Lafourche that currently are protected by levees.

 Similar predictions had been made for years. But Hurricane Katrina finally galvanized the state Legislature, which pushed through a far-reaching coastal restoration plan in 2007.

 The 50-year, $50 billion Master Plan for the Coast (in 2012 dollars) includes projects to build levees, pump sediment into sinking areas, and build massive diversions on the river to reconnect it with the dying delta.

The state’s computer projections show that by 2060 — if projects are completed on schedule — more land could be built annually than is lost to the Gulf.

But there are three large caveats.

  • The state is still searching for the full $50 billion. Congress so far has been unwilling to help.
  • If the plan is to work, sea-level rise can’t be as bad as the worst-case scenario.
  • Building controlled sediment diversions on the river, a key part of the land-building strategy, has never been done before. The predictions, then, are largely hypothetical, although advocates say the concept is being proven by an uncontrolled diversion at West Bay, near the mouth of the river.

 Trying to keep pace with the vanishing pieces of southeast Louisiana today is like chasing the sunset; it’s a race that never ends.

Signs of the impending death of this delta are there to see for any visitor.

Falling tides carry patches of marsh grass that have fallen from the ever-crumbling shorelines.

Pelicans circle in confusion over nesting islands that have washed away since last spring.

Pilings that held weekend camps surrounded by thick marshes a decade ago stand in open water, hundreds of yards from the nearest land — mute testimony to a vanishing culture.

Shrimpers push their wing nets in lagoons that were land five years ago.

The bare trunks of long-dead oaks rise from the marsh, tombstones marking the drowning of high ridges that were built back when the river pumped life-giving sediment through its delta.

“If you’re a young person you think this is what it’s supposed to look like,” Lambert said. “Then when you’re old enough to know, it’s too late.”

 





Climate change and Newtok

26 08 2014

How does this topic relate to the textile industry?   Well, it just so happens that the textile industry is huge – and a huge producer of greenhouse gasses.  The textile industry, according to the U.S. Energy Information Administration, is the 5th largest contributor to CO2 emissions in the United States, after primary metals, nonmetallic mineral products, petroleum and chemicals.  Your textile choices do make a difference – next week we’ll take a look at why.

Newtok is one example of what the United Nations Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change warns is part of a growing climate change crisis that will displace 150 million people by 2050.

Climate change is impacting Alaska and Arctic areas disproportionately because shiny ice and snow reflect a high proportion of the sun’s energy into space while the exposed rock and water absorb more and more of the sun’s energy, making it even warmer.   Arctic areas, including Alaska, are warming about twice as fast as the rest of the world. In 2012, Arctic sea ice coverage hit the lowest level ever recorded, and by 2040, it is predicted that summer sea ice could be limited to the northern coasts of Greenland and Canada.[1] But the cities and towns of the east coast of the United States are waking up to their own version of climate change – in the form of storm surges from hurricane Sandy. About half of America’s population lives within 50 miles of a coastline.

This video is an Emmy nominated documentary, Melting Point Greenland – winner of the 2013 National Headliners Award First Prize Environmental:

Today, more than 180 native communities in Alaska are facing flooding and losing land as warming temperatures are melting coastal ice shelves and frozen sub-soils, which act as natural barriers to protect villages against summer deluges and ocean storm surges. One of these villages is Newtok, an Eskimo village on the banks of the Ninglick River and home to indigenous Yup’ik Eskimos. The river coils around Newtok on three sides before emptying into the Bering Sea. The river has steadily been eating away at the land, carrying away 100 feet or more in some years, in a process accelerated by climate change.  It is estimated that the local school, on the highest point of land in the village, will be under water by 2017.

There are other changes too: Historically, Newtok would expect snow by October. In early December of 2013, snow had not yet fallen. Residents have told media that geese have been altering migratory patterns that had been unchanged for centuries and moose are migrating into caribou country. Comments Nathan Tom, a Yup’ik villager, “The snow comes in a different timing now. The snow disappears way late. That is making the geese come at the wrong time. Now they are starting to lay their eggs when there is still snow and ice and we can’t go and pick them.  It’s changing a lot. It’s real, global warming, it’s real.” [2]

Permafrost

Newtok may well be the site of some of the planet’s first climate refugees.

“Climate refugee” usually refers to a people displaced from their homes by the impact of a changing climate – although the strict definition of a refugee in international law is more narrow – including people displaced by war, violence or persecution, but not environmental changes.

The first image that usually springs to mind for climate refugees are small tropical islands in the Pacific or of a low-lying delta like those in Bangladesh, where inhabitants have been forced out of their homes by sea-level rise. But given the rapidity of the changes in the Arctic regions, this image is about to become more diverse.

But as with most things these days, the variables are complex: As applied to Newtok, the term “climate refugees” is somewhat ironic, given that the Yup’ik were nomadic by nature, migrating over the permafrost.  In the 1950s the U.S. government told the Yup’ik that their nomadic lifestyle was no longer acceptable, they had to settle in one location so their children could go to school.  The Yup’ik begrudgingly accepted, settling in Kayalavik, a village of sod huts, farther north.

When Alaska became a state in 1959, federal officials began to pressure the Yup’ik to relocate, as the Kayalavik village was harder for supply barges to access.  Eventually the ill-fated decision was made to relocate the tribe to Newtok — a seasonal stopping place for the tribe’s late-summer berry picking.

“The places are often where they are because it was easy to unload the building materials and build the school and the post office there,” said Larry Hartig, who heads the state’s Commission on Environmental Conservation. “But they weren’t the ideal place to be in terms of long-term stability and it’s now creating a lot of problems that are exacerbated by melting permafrost and less of the seasonal sea ice that would form barriers between the winter storms and uplands.”[3]

The U.S. Army Corps of Engineers has estimated that moving Newtok could cost $130 million. Twenty-six other Alaskan villages are in immediate danger, with an additional 60 considered under threat in the next decade, according to the corps. But as the villagers of Newtok are discovering, recognizing the gravity of the threat posed by climate change – and responding in time are two very different matters. Since the first meeting in December 2007, at which the villagers held the first public meeting about the move, little has been done, tethered to a dangerous location by bureaucratic obstacles and lack of funds.

 

 

 

[1] http://wwf.panda.org/what_we_do/where_we_work/arctic/what_we_do/climate/

[2]http://www.dailytech.com/Government+Creates+Global+Warming+Refugee+Crisis+in+Alaska/article31546.htm

[3] http://www.theguardian.com/environment/interactive/2013/may/13/newtok-alaska-climate-change-refugees





Synergy

31 07 2014

I just read the article by Mark Winston in the New York Times (July 15, 2014) in which he talks about the “thousand little cuts” suffered by honeybees which has led to the catastrophic decline of these insects. (The article is reproduced at the end of this blog.) I had been thinking about synergy and this seems to fit right in.

Synergy means the interaction of two (or more) things that produce an overall effect that’s greater than – or different from – the sum of the individual effects. In other words, we cannot predict the whole simply by looking at the parts.   Even so, we are challenged to understand and predict the impacts that contaminants have on communities – when understanding the effect of a single contaminant on a single organism is daunting. There are almost unlimited variables that impact any situation.

The EPA tests chemicals for adverse health effects, which they assume will occur individually. But in the real world, we’re exposed to a medley of chemicals every day – from car exhaust, to cosmetics, clothing, pesticide sprays for agriculture or mosquitos, even smog. The fact that these exposures can react with each other, and in effect, make each other more toxic, is a newly emerging science. In 1996, the EPA was required for the first time to consider cumulative pesticide exposure under the Food Quality Protection Act (FQPA). The FQPA recognizes that real-world pesticide exposure doesn’t occur as a single discrete exposure to a single pesticide, but rather as a combination of several pesticides at once. For example, USDA data shows that apples sold in the United States contained 22 different pesticide residues, and peaches contained 40.[1]

I just discovered the term “co-carcinogen”, which means the additive or synergistic effect of two or more agents which leads to cancer. These “co-carcinogens” may not themselves be a carcinogen. For example, a study by the University of Minnesota published a paper about the cancer-promoting effects of capsaicin – found in foods that contain hot chili peppers. It’s complicated – if you’re interested, please click here.

Here’s an interesting story:

In the summer of 1985, 30 year-old Thomas Latimer was leading a good life in the suburbs of Dallas, TX. He was a vigorous, athletic man with a promising engineering career. On one particular Saturday afternoon, Mr. Latimer spent the day mowing the lawn, picking up the clippings and edging the walkways. After about an hour, he began to feel dizziness, nausea, tightness in his chest and a pounding headache. Ten days later, he felt even worse and went to see his doctor.

Over the next six years, Mr. Latimer found himself unable to exercise. He suffered from brain seizures. He visited 20 different doctors and underwent numerous tests to determine the source of his medical problems. His symptoms were consistent with organophosphate poisoning, most likely from the insecticide diazinon that had been applied to his lawn. But because his symptoms were so severe and the amount of pesticide he was exposed to was so low, the doctors continued to look for a complicating factor. After further research, a toxicologist, three neurologists and two neuro-ophthalmologists all concluded independently that the popular ulcer drug Tagamet that Mr. Latimer was taking had suppressed his liver, making him more susceptible to pesticide poisoning.

Alfredo A Sudan, a professor of neurology and ophthalmology at the University of Southern California, who conducted extensive tests evaluating an eye disorder that Mr. Latimer developed, estimates that taking a medication like Tagamet “can make a person 100 to 1,000 times more sensitive to organophosphate poisoning.”[2]

In 2001, researchers at Duke University’s Department of Pharmacology and Cancer Biology published a series of papers looking at the synergistic effects of DEET (the active ingredient in most insect repellants) and permethrin (a pesticides commonly used in community mosquite programs, as well as many household bug killers.) The purpose of the studies was to determine a possible link between pesticides and other chemicals used during the Persian Gulf War and the “Gulf War Syndrome” – a neurological disease. When DEET, permethrin and pyridostigmine bromide (a drug taken by soldiers to counteract toxic gas warfare chemicals) were administered alone – even at doses three times the level soldiers received – no effects were observed. But when the three chemicals were used in combination, test animals suffered neurological symptoms similar to the Gulf War veterans.[3]

Neurology experts give three possible reasons for the synergistic effects seen in the above experiments. First, the stress endured by animals when exposed to a combination of chemicals undermines the protective role of the blood brain barrier, allowing the level of toxics to cross into the brain to be 100 times higher. Second, tissue that has been exposed becomes more sensitive and receptive to other toxic substances. Third, certain chemicals bind to enzymes that detoxify the body, making the enzymes unavailable to protect the body from other intruding chemicals. Dr. Goran Jamal, a neurologist at the West London Regional Neuro-Science Center of the Imperial College of Medicine, makes the following comparison, “It’s like releasing 200 criminals in London and taking away the police officers that are usually on duty. There is bound to be some damage.”[4]

The organization Beyond Pesticides suggests a variety of tests: testing for interactions between pesticides commonly used in agriculture, between pesticides used in agriculture and food contaminants, for pesticides commonly found in drinking water, for pesticides and pharmaceuticals, and for pesticides that are likely to drift. However, this testing is probably unrealistic so the best approach might be to limit exposure – by limiting exposure you also limit synergistic health effects.

Here is Mark Winston’s article, “Our Bees, Ourselves”:

New York Times, Katie Scott

New York Times, Katie Scott

AROUND the world, honeybee colonies are dying in huge numbers: About one-third of hives collapse each year, a pattern going back a decade. For bees and the plants they pollinate — as well as for beekeepers, farmers, honey lovers and everyone else who appreciates this marvelous social insect — this is a catastrophe.

But in the midst of crisis can come learning. Honeybee collapse has much to teach us about how humans can avoid a similar fate, brought on by the increasingly severe environmental perturbations that challenge modern society.

Honeybee collapse has been particularly vexing because there is no one cause, but rather a thousand little cuts. The main elements include the compounding impact of pesticides applied to fields, as well as pesticides applied directly into hives to control mites; fungal, bacterial and viral pests and diseases; nutritional deficiencies caused by vast acreages of single-crop fields that lack diverse flowering plants; and, in the United States, commercial beekeeping itself, which disrupts colonies by moving most bees around the country multiple times each year to pollinate crops.

The real issue, though, is not the volume of problems, but the interactions among them. Here we find a core lesson from the bees that we ignore at our peril: the concept of synergy, where one plus one equals three, or four, or more. A typical honeybee colony contains residue from more than 120 pesticides. Alone, each represents a benign dose. But together they form a toxic soup of chemicals whose interplay can substantially reduce the effectiveness of bees’ immune systems, making them more susceptible to diseases.

These findings provide the most sophisticated data set available for any species about synergies among pesticides, and between pesticides and disease. The only human equivalent is research into pharmaceutical interactions, with many prescription drugs showing harmful or fatal side effects when used together, particularly in patients who already are disease-compromised. Pesticides have medical impacts as potent as pharmaceuticals do, yet we know virtually nothing about their synergistic impacts on our health, or their interplay with human diseases.

Observing the tumultuous demise of honeybees should alert us that our own well-being might be similarly threatened. The honeybee is a remarkably resilient species that has thrived for 40 million years, and the widespread collapse of so many colonies presents a clear message: We must demand that our regulatory authorities require studies on how exposure to low dosages of combined chemicals may affect human health before approving compounds.

Bees also provide some clues to how we may build a more collaborative relationship with the services that ecosystems can provide. Beyond honeybees, there are thousands of wild bee species that could offer some of the pollination service needed for agriculture. Yet feral bees — that is, bees not kept by beekeepers — also are threatened by factors similar to those afflicting honeybees: heavy pesticide use, destruction of nesting sites by overly intensive agriculture and a lack of diverse nectar and pollen sources thanks to highly effective weed killers, which decimate the unmanaged plants that bees depend on for nutrition.

Recently, my laboratory at Simon Fraser University conducted a study on farms that produce canola oil that illustrated the profound value of wild bees. We discovered that crop yields, and thus profits, are maximized if considerable acreages of cropland are left uncultivated to support wild pollinators.

means a healthier, more diverse bee population, which will then move to the planted fields next door in larger and more active numbers. Indeed, farmers who planted their entire field would earn about $27,000 in profit per farm, whereas those who left a third unplanted for bees to nest and forage in would earn $65,000 on a farm of similar size.

Such logic goes against conventional wisdom that fields and bees alike can be uniformly micromanaged. The current challenges faced by managed honeybees and wild bees remind us that we can manage too much. Excessive cultivation, chemical use and habitat destruction eventually destroy the very organisms that could be our partners.

And this insight goes beyond mere agricultural economics. There is a lesson in the decline of bees about how to respond to the most fundamental challenges facing contemporary human societies. We can best meet our own needs if we maintain a balance with nature — a balance that is as important to our health and prosperity as it is to the bees.[5]

 

 

 

 

[1] http://www.beyondpesticides.org/infoservices/pesticidesandyou/Winter%2003-04/Synergy.pdf

[2] Allen, Frank Edward. 1991. One Man’s Suffering Spurs Doctors to Probe Pesticide-Drug Link. The Wall Street Journal. October 14.

[3] Abou-Donia, M.B., et. al. 1996. Neurotoxicity resulting from coexposure to pyridostigmine bromide, DEET, and permethrin: Implications of Gulf War chemical exposures. J. Toxicol. Environ. Health 48:35-56.

[4] http://www.beyondpesticides.org/infoservices/pesticidesandyou/Winter%2003-04/Synergy.pdf

[5] Winston, Mark, “Our Bees, Ourselves”, New York Times, July 15, 2014, pg. A25

 





What’s pleather?

16 07 2014

Leather has become the sign of a luxurious – and durable – choice for practically any product you can think of.  As the ads say, “the rich scent, luxurious texture and easygoing attitude” makes it a popular choice.

Leather has been around as long as  people  –  ancient peoples used materials that were available, like bark and plant tannins, alum, earth minerals, fish oils, animal brains, lime and smoke to preserve animal skins.  The process took a long time – from 1 to 12 months.  But today’s leather is a far cry from  early leathers because horribly toxic synthetic chemicals have replaced the older tanning chemicals (usually in the interest of time – chrome tanning takes only a fraction of the time as does “natural” tanning); modern leather tanneries are frighteningly toxic and the animal husbandry aspect is sad and sickening. There are a very few ethical tanneries, but so far I can count them on one hand. [1]

But leather –  the skin of a dead animal – is meant to decompose.  What do you think has to be done to that skin so it doesn’t decompose? We covered this topic in a former post ( click here to read that), but basically the tanning of leather is in the top 10 of the world’s worst pollution threats –  at #5 – directly affecting more than 1.8 milllion people. [2] More than 90 percent of Bangladeshi tannery workers suffer from some kind of disease — from asthma to cancer — due to chemical exposure, according to a 2008 survey by SEHD, a local charity, with local residents being almost as badly affected. [3]

What chemicals are used to create such terrible pollution? In all, around 250 chemicals are used in tanning. Skins are transferred from vat to vat, soaked and treated and dyed.   Chemicals include alcohol, coal tar , sodium sulfate, sulfuric acid, chlorinated phenols (e.g. 3,5-dichlorophenol), chromium (trivalent and hexavalent), azo dyes, cadmium, cobalt, copper, antimony, cyanide, barium, lead, selenium, mercury, zinc,  polychlorinated biphenyels (PCBs), nickel, formaldehyde and pesticide residues.[4]  At the same time, toxic gases like ammonia, hydrogen sulfide, and carcinogenic arylamines are emitted into the air. The smell of a tannery is the most horrifyingly putrid smell on earth.

But people really want leather – so what’s an industry to do?

Enter Pleather, made from oil in the form of plastic – either PVC or polyurethane. Pleather is simply a slang term for “plastic leather”, made by bonding the plastic to a fabric backing.   It’s often used as an inexpensive substitute for leather, but the fashion industry has adopted it big time. It is lighter than leather, and it does not decompose as quickly as leather. It’s also supposed to be much more durable than leather.

The PVC version does not breathe and can be very hard to clean – it’s not often used for surfaces that come in contact with the skin.   The polyurethane version is usually machine washable and can be dry cleaned. It’s also slightly breathable, softer, and more flexible.

Is this a good alternative? Given that every manufactured product has an unavoidable environmental cost, neither leather nor pleather is particularly green. The PVC version of pleather is made from polyvinyl chloride, which is loathed by Greenpeace, calling it the “most damaging plastic on the planet,” because its production releases dioxins and persistent organic pollutants. The polyurethane version doesn’t have quite the same toxicity problems as PVC, but plenty of CO2 is emitted during the production. According to the Association of Plastics Manufacturers in Europe, producing a pound of polyurethane emits 3.7 lbs. of CO2 – slightly less than burning a gallon of gas.[5]

YouTube’s version (shown below) shows the production of PVC pleather: Pleather is made by coating a paper backing (embossed to look like leather) with PVC (polyvinyl chloride). First, a petroleum based plasticizer; a UV stabalizer and a fire retardant are mixed in solution, then powdered vinyl is added. Dyes are put into a different tub, then they pour in the liquid vinyl. Next the large roll of paper with a leather like texture is coated with the liquid vinyl. It is baked in an oven to harden the vinyl, which takes on the paper’s texture. A second batch of vinyl is prepared which contains a thickening agent, and it is poured onto the first layer. Then the double layered vinyl goes through the oven again. Fabric (from cotton to polyester) is adhered to the back, and the paper is peeled off to reveal the leather pattern. Here is the visual production from YouTube:

Properly manufactured pleather should be calendered – which means passing the material between two rollers to make the surface shiny.   If it is not calendered, it is considered “cheap” pleather and its durability is compromised.

But maybe if we wait just a bit there will be even better alternatives: Richard Wool, a professor of chemical and biomolecular engineering at the University of Delaware, has been working on a leather alternative which is entirely non-plastic, and bio-based: it’s made from flax or cotton fibers, which are laminated together in layers using palm, corn, soybean or other plant oils to create a leather-like material.   And unlike pleather – it’s breathable. Wool plans to call his product Green Engineered Material or GEM. But he’s looking for muscle and money to get the product moving forward.[6]

[1] Organic Leather, in California, is trying to create high-quality and stylish leather while working to transform the industry and educate consumers.  See their white paper: http://www.organicleather.com/organic_leather_white_paper.pdf

[2] http://www.globe-net.com/articles/2011/november/11/world’s-10-worst-toxic-pollution-problems/

[3] Barton, Cat, “Workers pay high price at Bangladesh tanneries”, AFP, Feb. 2011

[4] Ibid.

[5] Koerner, Brendan, “Wheather the Leather be Pleather”, Slate online, http://www.slate.com/articles/health_and_science/the_green_lantern/2007/12/whether_the_leather_be_pleather.html

[6] http://www.newarkpostonline.com/news/article_c67d7f46-8747-5bb0-abfe-d50ce305f767.html





Relationships and systems

1 07 2014

 

 

 

From Jewel  Renee Illustration; jewelrenee.blogspot.com/2011/06/starfish-7-legged-and-otherwise.html

From Jewel Renee Illustration; jewelrenee.blogspot.com/2011/06/starfish-7-legged-and-otherwise.html


From Alaska to Southern California, sea stars (or as I call them,  starfish.    But  scientists like to point out they’re not fish, ergo: “sea stars”) are dying by the millions.  Drew Harvell, a marine epidemiologist at Cornell University, calls it the largest documented marine epidemic in human history.   The disease deflates sea stars, causing them to become weak, lose limbs  and develop lesions that eat through their entire bodies – or simply disintegrate into bacterial goop within days.   

Two affected species – sunflower and ochre stars – are “keystone species” in their respective habitats. That is, they are species that have disproportionately large impacts on their ecosystems, and they fill a vital niche. The term was coined 45 years ago by zoology professor Robert Paine, of the University of Washington, specifically to describe the importance of the ochre star in the Pacific Northwest.  They are a top predator, eating mussels, barnacles and sea snails.

“This is the species that defined the term, which is a central concept in ecological theory,” explained Drew Harvell.   “We do expect the impact to be dramatic. And to take away not just one, but both of these keystone species in adjoining ecosystems? It’s going to have a big effect.”[1]

Nobody knows why the sea stars are dying.  Theories have run from waterborne pathogens or other disease agents, manmade chemicals, ocean acidification, wastewater discharge or warming oceans.  There is even a contingent that thinks the Fukushima nuclear meltdown is the cause.  The newest theory is that they’re being infected with a disease that can more easily grow in the Pacific Ocean thanks to warming waters, which provide a better place for the disease organisms to multiply.  According to the scientists, the warmer waters also compromises the immune systems of the sea stars, allowing them to be more susceptible to the disease.

I’m sure you know where I’m going with this:  like Colony Collapse Disorder (CCD) of honeybees, the sea star wasting syndrome is beyond the range of what we expect in a healthy ecosystem.  Most scientists have concurred that the CCD was caused by a variety of environmental stresses (malnutrition, pathogens, mites, pesticides, radiation from cell phones and other man made devices, as well as genetically modified crops with pest control characteristics) which increased stress and reduced the immune systems of the honeybees.

And though bees and sea stars are both rather small and seem insignificant, they are both essential components of our ecosystem.  Without bees, for example, there would be significantly less pollination, which would result in limited plant growth and lower food supplies. According to Dr. Albert Einstein, “If the bee disappears from the surface of the earth, man would have no more than four years to live. No more bees, no more pollination…no more men”.[2]    It’s a bit early to assess the impact of the loss of sea stars, but according to Carol Blanchette, a research biologist at University of California Santa Barbara,  “losing a predator like that is bound to have some pretty serious ecological consequences and we really don’t know exactly how the system is going to look but we’re quite certain that it’s going to have an impact.”[3]

I read a book many years ago about time travelers who went to the distant past.  One of them stepped on an insect.  When they returned to their own time, everything had changed.  Ecologists tell us that everything is connected to everything else – ecosystems are complex and interconnected.  “The system,” Barry Commoner writes, “is stabilized by its dynamic self-compensating properties; these same properties, if overstressed, can lead to a dramatic collapse.” Further, “the ecological system is an amplifier, so that a small perturbation in one place may have large, distant, long-delayed effects elsewhere.”[4]

So how does the textile industry figure into this equation?  Answer:  the textile industry pollutes our water.  In fact, some sources put it as the leading industrial polluter of water on the planet.  It takes about 505 gallons of water to produce one pair of Levi’s 501 jeans.[5]  Imagine how much water is used every day by textile mills worldwide.   The actual amount of water used is not really the point, in my opinion.  What matters is that the water used by the textile industry is not “cleaned up” before they return it to our ecosystem.  The textile industry’s chemically infused effluent – filled with PBDEs,  phthalates, organochlorines, lead and a host of other chemicals that have been proven to cause a variety of human health issues – is routinely dumped into our waterways untreated.  And we are all downstream.

Maude Barlow, in her book, Blue Covenant [6] argues that water is not a commercial good but rather a human right and a public trust.   She shares these startling facts about water during her presentations:

  • Every 8 seconds a child dies from drinking dirty water.
  • 50% of the world’s hospital beds are occupied by people who have contracted waterborne diseases.
  • The World Health Organization says contaminated water is the cause of 80% of all sickness and disease worldwide.
  • 9 countries control 60% of the world’s available freshwater.[7]
  • In China, 80% of all major rivers are so polluted they don’t support aquatic life at all.

This year’s drought in the US pointed to a new water related issue, the generation of energy.  Power plants are completely dependent on water for cooling and make up about half the water usage in the US.  If water levels in the rivers that cool them drop too low, the power plant – already overworked from the heat – won’t be able to draw in enough water. In addition, if the cooling water discharged from a plant raises already-hot river temperatures above certain thresholds, environmental regulations require the plant to shut down.[8]

The textile mills which are polluting our groundwater are using their corporate power to control water they use – and who gives them that right?  If we agree that they have the right to use the water, shouldn’t they also have an obligation to return the water in its unpolluted state?  Ms. Barlow and others around the world are calling for a UN covenant to set the framework for water as a social and cultural asset, not an economic commodity, and the legal groundwork for a just system of distribution.

Please ask whether the fabric you buy has been produced in a mill which treats its wastewater.   The Global Organic Textile Standard (GOTS) assures consumers that the mill which produced the fabric has treated its wastewater, but so far it is the only third party certification with that requirement as a standard.  Oeko Tex 1000 has also included that in its requirements, however I have never seen an Oeko Tex 1000 certification – most fabrics are simply Oeko Tex certified.  Also look into the Greenpeace Detox challenge, which is working to “expose the direct links between global clothing brands, their suppliers, and toxic water pollution around the world.”  Click here for more information.

 

[1] Gashler, Krisy, “Sea star wasting devastates Pacific Coast species”, Cornell Chronicle, Feb 17, 2014

[2] http://www.beesfree.biz/The%20Buzz/Bees-Dying

[3] http://www.pbs.org/newshour/updates/scientists-zero-whats-causing-starfish-die-offs/

[4] Commoner, Barry; “The Closing Circle: Nature, Man and Technology”, Random House, October 1971

[5] Alter, Alexandra, “Yet Another Footprint to Worry About: Water”, The Wall Street Journal, February 17, 2009.

[6] Barlow, Maude; “Blue Covenant: The Global Water Crisis and the Coming Battle for the Right to Water”, The New Press, 2008.

[7] WBCSD, Facts and Trends: Water (version 2), 2009.

[8] Reardon, Sara, “Water shortages hit US power supply”, New Scientist, 20 August 2012.

 








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