No one is perfect, especially me.

August 2008

A few hours before Benedict XVI preached at Australia’s World Youth Day about global ecological crises, I was at a supermarket checkout line in America not using reusable shopping bags.

There I was exiting Shaw’s market clutching 11 plastic shopping bags, a few of them holding only one or two items because I do my own bagging and am not very good at it.

For the record, I do own reusable shopping bags. Good friends and even my mother (who uses them faithfully) have given me plenty. Five are perched right now on the back seat of my Subaru Forrester—which, yes, is an automobile that gets decent mileage for what it is (just short of an SUV), but certainly isn’t a hybrid or a Smart Car (one of those tiny Mercedes-Benz eco-autos that’s about the size of a good riding lawn mower).

One reason I don’t use cloth supermarket bags is I’m forgetful—okay, lazy. When I remember I have them, I’m about three steps from the supermarket doors. And by then it’s too late. Maybe it’s a (fallen) guy thing, but when I consider turning back to get them, something overrules everything I know to be right and I won’t walk 30 feet to retrieve what, in case you haven’t noticed, are becoming all the rage.

I confess all this because we need to acknowledge that living a truly environmentally-conscious life (if such a thing is possible) is, frankly, inconvenient—and this is one thing Al Gore got right. In fact, I’m overwhelmed whenever I consider everything I’m supposed to do. But because it’s fun to point out hypocrisy, let’s tally a few of the ways I don’t muster up for the job title “Savior of Planet Earth” – which, thankfully, has already been filled).

Many mornings I forget to leave the house with one of my reusable Dunkin’ Donuts coffee mugs, but I stop for coffee anyway and use their polystyrene cups. I am rarely content with ambient lighting, so I turn on all the lights in my office and house, no matter what their energy efficiency. In the winter I keep an electric heater stationed at any spot where I’ll be immobile for more than 20 seconds. And while I do find it easy to use organic gardening and lawn-care products, every now and then I sneak in a toxic alternative for those special foliage-withering plant diseases that just need to be obliterated.

Naturally not everyone preaching from the Book of Ecology is this lax. Many—and many of these many are women—do everything by the book. Each morning they make their own fair-trade coffee and carry it to the bus stop in washable travel mugs; they collect empty cans and bottles at work, where they won’t be recycled, and bring them home so they can; and yes, they both own and use tote bags for the market, the same ones they’ve been using since Gerald Ford was president.

But while living a life with reduced ecological impact is doable, it is not always what comes to mind. Why? What is it besides laziness that keeps us from seizing whatever the moment might offer to save energy, or reduce waste, or cut down consumption? Why do we think we’re not part of the problem?

When "B16," as the kids call the present Holy Father, speaks about ecological issues he is certainly saying more than the media typically have the time to report. Benedict’s calls for ecological sanity are intertwined with his rejection of moral relativism. His words are profound, making them much more than ecological platitudes. Human consumption, especially in places like America, is dizzying. To the extent that this consumption soars into the red zone because we are “too busy,” forgetful or sluggish are not good excuses.

And so, Your Holiness, I thank you. You’ve reminded me of the message. That said, while I cannot afford a new, more efficient automobile, I can at least use reusable shopping bags. This I’m putting in writing. And I’ll renew my efforts to reduce my consumption of Earth’s resources however I can. As an individual my contributions may not amount to much. But in communion with my sisters and brothers in Christ, I know we’ll make a considerable improvement in how we hand over our corner of creation to today’s deserving young women and men.

Catholic Ecology Home

Mercury's Place in a Fallen World

May 2008

We’ve been born into a world that fell along with humanity, and so our best plans—more often than not—go off course. Still, we wake up every morning and must make the best of things. It is only with God’s grace that we can hope to make our corner of creation some small degree better.

All this is prologue to an issue raised by a writer to this paper responding to a column I’d written mentioning the use of a certain type of lighting to reduce energy consumption, and so lessen energy bills and greenhouse gas production. While I’ve written before about climate change, and our Holy Father’s very real concerns on the matter, the lighting issue raised in that letter deserves particular attention because it not only teaches good ecological (and economic) lessons, but theological ones, too.

The writer was correct that so-called compact fluorescent light bulbs (or “CFLs” for short) contain mercury—a small amount, but enough to raise questions. Mercury, we know, is a bioaccumulating neurotoxin. In sufficient quantities it causes severe illness in humans. Most vulnerable are unborn babies, which is why governments and environmental advocates would like to remove the chemical from our industries and homes. (It is interesting that many pro-abortion advocates decry the effects of mercury on the unborn; in doing so they argue against their own position … but that’s another column.)

As for CFLs, a recent study in Maine highlights the dangers if a bulb were to shatter in one’s home. And yet even those working to reduce mercury emissions still urge the use of CFL lighting. As reported in the Boston Globe, Michael Bender, the director of the “Mercury Policy Project,” a nonprofit group working to do away with mercury use, says, "using compact fluorescent bulbs is still the brightest idea out there … people should not be afraid but informed and prepared and learn how to dispose of (CFLs) properly."

All this raises a question. If mercury is bad for us, why are governments and ecologists praising the use of CFLs, which have the stuff in it?

While CFLs are more expensive than conventional incandescent bulbs, they last about ten times longer, and they use only one-quarter the electricity. Considering that lighting accounts for about twenty percent of most people’s electric bill, using CFLs around the house will reduce your monthly utility check. Moreover, the environmental benefit of compact fluorescent lights is sizable; if everyone switched just one light bulb in their home to a CFL, reductions in electrical demand (and so, generation) would result in a reduction of pollution equivalent to the amount produced annually by 800,000 automobiles.

All this is good. But then there’s that catch: compact fluorescent lights need about five milligrams of mercury in them to function, which is about the amount of ink in the period at the end of this sentence. (To put that in perspective, it would take 250 to 1,000 of these light bulbs to equal the amount of mercury in just one typical mercury thermometer.)

Still, no matter how small the amount, mercury is bad. But here’s the upside: by cutting electrical demand, CFLs actually reduce more dangerous mercury emissions from many power plants, especially the coal-fired variety. And while mercury emissions are not necessarily an issue for local natural-gas powered plants, cutting energy usage means less dependency on fossil fuels, as well as cutting emissions of other pollutants, which is always beneficial. Most importantly, however, is if we use CFLs correctly, their mercury won’t enter the environment. (Importantly, like all household hazards, special care must be given to CFLs should one break—information that should come with the bulb.)

Of course, mercury vapor is needed not just in energy-saving CFLs, but also in commonly used fluorescent bulbs (used in overhead office lights), neon signs, and about a half-dozen other lighting systems that we all use in our homes, schools and work places. Small amounts of mercury are also used in many electronics, computers and even in the LCD displays of our cell phones.

Then again, many products we have in our homes are toxic. Pesticides and cleaning products certainly are, but simple items like flea collars and nail polish removers are so toxic that they should not be thrown in the garbage. They should be handled as household hazardous wastes and disposed of only at special collections (which in Rhode Island are held dozens of times annually in various communities and at the Central Landfill).

All this is a reminder that we live in a fallen world. In a perfect world—dare I say, in the Kingdom—mercury will take its proper place in creation, whatever that is. But for now, here outside Eden, as scientists devise even better options for low-energy lighting and hazardous waste disposal, CFLs are our best low-energy choice for lighting homes and workplaces. Perfect? No. But then, what that humanity creates ever is?