Photo Credit: Tesla

“Smokey, old diesels” – this summarizes a long-held perception of the trucking industry.  It has been, perhaps, a valid perception. Nevertheless, with electric transports entering the industry, opinions may be poised to change. Where has the trucking industry been and where is it going? How is geography going to impact the emergence of electric trucks?

Diesel exhaust has choked cities for decades. Diesel-powered transports have traditionally spewed up to 30 percent of the particulate matter (PM) in polluted urban air (Toy, Graham, & Hammit, 2000). Particulate matter in the United States alone caused 15,000 premature deaths each year (Nel, 2005). Diesel PM has been tied to increases in emphysema, asthma, and heart disease. Moreover, long-term exposure to diesel exhaust particles also poses the highest cancer risk of any toxic air contaminant (American Lung Association, n.d.).

Likewise, trucks have conventionally comprised about 10 percent of nitrogen oxide (NO_x) emissions in America (Toy, Graham, & Hammit, 2000). Exposure to ground-level ozone – for which NO_x is a precursor – has been linked to lung inflammation and decreased immunity (American Lung Association, n.d.). Furthermore, diesel exhaust is an irritant to mucosal membranes (eyes, nose, throat) and can precipitate coughs, headaches, lightheadedness, nausea, and allergies.

Air pollution and public health, however, are not the only concerns weighing heavy-duty vehicle transportation. Trucking accounts for approximately 20 percent of North America’s greenhouse gas (GHG) emissions (U.S. Department of Transportation, n.d.).  The preponderant GHG’s include water vapour, carbon dioxide (CO₂), methane (CH₄), and nitrous oxide (N₂O). The primary GHG’s associated with trucking are CO₂, CH₄, N₂O, and HC (US EPA, 2010).

In the interest of public health and environmental preservation, curtailing freight truck emissions is evidently prudent. In March of 2011, President Obama announced – with liquefied natural gas (LNG) trucks as a backdrop – a public-private partnership aimed at reducing gasoline and diesel consumption in large commercial fleets. Trucking companies throughout Canada and the United States began branding themselves “green” by embracing LNG engine technology. LNG, however, has its own issues. Though inherently cleaner burning than diesel, LNG is still a fossil fuel. While natural gas is touted as having an environmental advantage over diesel in terms of life cycle (Riva, D’Angelosante, & Trebeschi, 2006), the ability to extract copious volumes of natural gas from vast shale reserves in North America still poses problems, including aquifer contamination, water use, fracking fluid impacts, land industrialization, and fugitive emissions (Verrastro & Branch, 2010).  And although LNG has had a rather exemplary safety record, fears about attacks, vapour cloud fires, and accidental spills have been raised.

Electrics, hybrids, LNG’s, diesels with particulate filters/selective catalytic reduction – technology has always driven change in the trucking industry. Simpler solutions –reducing truck idling time, installing speed limiters, training “green” drivers, and improving service inefficiencies – also reduce fossil fuel consumption. Yet, an even more obvious answer exists: reduce vehicle miles driven! How senseless it seems to transport bottles of water thousands of miles when, for many, potable water is available from a kitchen faucet. How peculiar that we opt to move millions of pounds of food that could be grown in backyard gardens. Regardless, the foremost dilemma with solutions aimed at resolving these peculiarities is that it places the burden on humanity; it would encompass a difficult social paradigm shift.

Fortunately for humanity, technology marches on. The new year rolled in with big trucking news – the Tesla semi-truck. Though not the first electric semi-truck, the Tesla has an enviable range of up to 800 km (Clouthier, 2018). Ultimately, however, geography will determine any realized range. Temperature, wind, grade, payload, traffic, and topography will all influence actual range. Regardless, fewer fossil-fuel-powered trucks on the road is good news in terms of air quality and GHG emissions (assuming renewable electric generation). Again, this assumption is highly dependent upon geography; it obviously makes more sense to run electric trucks in areas where electricity is generated from renewable sources.

Even with consideration of all these existing variables, there is still one major hurdle electric trucks must overcome, one that that share with passenger vehicles – adequate recharging networks. In a recent paper that highlights strategies to increase electric vehicle uptake, the absence of recharging stations is earmarked as a key concern among potential customers. Surveys indicate that some drivers are more concerned about inadequate infrastructure than vehicle cost (Broadbent, Drozdzewski & Metternicht, 2017). The authors go on to state that faster transition to electric vehicle adoption should include appropriate legislation, sufficient recharging networks, procurement programs, and information programs. Adoption of electric semi-trucks would surely benefit from similar programs. Realizing these objectives will not be easy, but certainly worth it – for the health of the public and the planet.

References

American Lung Association. (n.d.). Health Effects of Diesel Exhaust. Retrieved 2018 from Air Toxicology and Epidemiology: http://www.oehha.ca.gov/public_info/facts/dieselfacts.html

Broadbent GH, Drozdzewski D, Metternicht G. (2017). Electric vehicle adoption: An analysis of best practice and pitfalls for policymaking from experiences of Europe and the US. Geography Compass. 2017;e12358. https://doi.org/10.1111/gec3.12358

Clouthier, D. (2018). Using electric trucks for what today’s technology allows. Retrieved 2018 from Truck News: https://www.trucknews.com/blogs/using-electric-trucks-todays-technology-allows/

Nel, A. (2005). Air Pollution – Related Illness: Effects of Particles. Science, 308, 804-806.

Riva, A., D’Angelosante, S., & Trebeschi, C. (2006). Natural gas and the environmental results of life cycle assessment. Energy, 31(1), 138-148.

Toy, E., Graham, J. D., & Hammit, J. K. (2000). Fueling Heavy Trucks: Diesel or Natural Gas? Retrieved 2017 from Harvard School of Public Health: http://www.hsph.harvard.edu/Organizations/hcra/diesel/diesel.pdf

U.S. Department of Transportation. (2011). Transportation and Climate Change Clearinghouse. Retrieved 2017 from: http://climate.dot.gov/

U.S. EPA. (2010). Regulations and Standards: Heavy-Duty Regulations. Retrieved 2017 from Transportation & Climate: http://www.epa.gov/oms/climate/regulations/420f10901.htm#1

Verrastro, F., & Branch, C. (2010). Developing America’s Unconventional Gas Resources: Benefits and Challenges. CSIS Energy & National Security Program

By Jillian Smith, University of Birmingham 

Rupert’s Land

Is decolonising geographical knowledges actually reproducing coloniality? Geographers have recently been posed this question for consideration; in fact, the 2017 RGS-IBG chair’s theme states that debating decoloniality might be a good starting point towards decolonisation (Esson et al., 2017). This statement complements Tuck and Yang’s earlier notion that the recent proliferation of decolonial language by non-Indigenous scholars can have the effect of reproducing coloniality (2012). Esson et al. (2017) assert that as we open geography out to the world in an effort at decolonisation, we actually “run the risk of speaking instead of those eager and equipped to speak for themselves.”

I took this last statement as an invitation to offer up my own unsolicited version of what prompted my interest in geography ­– my Indigenous forefathers. At the risk of romanticizing my Métis heritage, I often think of my Indigenous ancestors as early geographers. As Indigenous trappers, fur traders, and Voyageurs on the Great Lakes of Turtle Island (now North America), my ancestors undoubtedly had vast geographical knowledge of their territory. But like so many things in the colonial era, it did not last. The quasi-nomadic lifestyle ended as new settlers arrived and the First nations and Métis people living in Canada were assigned parcels of land under new colonial structures. By 1840, my 4^th great-grandfather had signed a petition (with all the makings of an early treaty) requesting traditional land back from the Crown.  Though his petition was unsuccessful, I am a proud that my grandfather was not only an early geographer, but an aspiring decoloniser.

Indisputably, one of colonisation’s earliest effects was Indigenous land dispossession; as such, it is imperative that any discussion of decolonisation must include programming to reconnect Indigenous peoples to the land that was lost, and the knowledge, languages, and relations associated with the land (Wildcat et al., 2014). Tuck and Yang (2012) go further to suggest that decolonisation must go beyond repatriation of land; they infer that decolonisation is also about deconstructing colonial institutions.

Meanwhile, Matsunaga (2016) notes that governments and academics are expanding transitional justice theory to harms inflicted to Indigenous peoples in settler states such as Australia, Canada, and the United States. Matsunaga adds that two faces of transitional justice will need to be examined if decolonisation is to occur: an internal focus on reconciliation, and an external focus on the expertise required to heal a fragile state.  The use of the term ‘fragile state’ here is significant. Recall that fragile states have traditionally been regarded as post-conflict states. Australia, Canada, and the United States are certainly not ‘fragile’ in this context. Nonetheless, a historical injustice has occurred in each of these nations, and as Teital (2003) astutely notes, the paradoxical goal in transition is to undo history. The mechanism in which transitional justice will contribute to decolonisation in Canada, or in any settler state, remains to be seen (Park, 2015).

Esson et al. (2017) concur with Tuck and Yang (2012) and explain that the decolonisation of geographical knowledges cannot occur while structures inherited from geography’s colonial past are upheld. It is, however, still possible (and indeed, desirable) that geographers engage in discussions about Indigenous worldviews. Without Indigenous involvement in these discussions, however, they are moot. For example: the reputable British journal, Third World Quarterly (an egregious 40-year-old journal name itself), recently published a piece entitled, “The case for colonialism.” Astoundingly, the author, Bruce Gilley, states that colonisation has been wrongly vilified and that it is time to re-colonise parts of the world (2017). Would my Indigenous ancestors, friends, and relatives of Turtle Island believe that re-colonisation is a good idea? Assuredly not. A petition asking for the article’s retraction has been signed many thousands of times and fifteen of the journal’s thirty-four editorial board members have resigned in protest (Flaherty, 2017). Though the outrage over the piece has been swift and ferocious, the fact that the article was published at all illustrates a point that Western notions of ideology still exist in academia.

Resistance, reconciliation, repatriation, storytelling, deconstruction, transitional justice – decolonisation means different things to different people in different parts of the world.  Perhaps it should be less about what decolonisation is, and more about who is unlocking their voice in the discussion. Indigenous voices have been silenced for hundreds of years. If we collectively spend more time listening, and less time proselytising, perhaps those of us attempting to decolonise knowledges will have a better chance at avoiding any reproduction of coloniality.

References

Esson, J., Noxolo, P., Baxter, R., Daley, P., & Byron, M. (2017). The 2017 RGS-IBG chair’s theme: decolonising geographical knowledges, or reproducing coloniality? Area, 49:384-388. doi:10.1111/area.12371

Flaherty, C. (2017). Resignations at ‘Third World Quarterly’. Inside Higher Ed. Retrieved from https://www.insidehighered.com/news/2017/09/20/much-third-world-quarterlys-editorial-board-resigns-saying-controversial-article

Gilley, B. (2017). The case for colonialism. Third World Quarterly, 1-17.

Matsunaga, J. (2016). Two faces of transitional justice: Theorizing the incommensurability of transitional justice and decolonization in Canada. Decolonization: Indigeneity, Education & Society, 5(1), 22-24. Retrieved from: http://decolonization.org/index.php/des/article/view/26530/19735

Park, A. S. (2015). Settler Colonialism and the Politics of Grief: Theorising a Decolonising Transitional Justice for Indian Residential Schools. Human Rights Review, 16(3), 279– 293.

Teitel, R. G. (2003). Transitional Justice Genealogy. Harvard Human Rights Journal, 16, 69.

Tuck, E., & Yang, K. W. (2012). Decolonization is not a metaphor. Decolonization: Indigeneity, Education & Society, 1(1), 1–40. Retrieved from: http://decolonization.org/index.php/des/article/view/18630/15554

Wildcat, M., McDonald, M., Irlbacher-Fox, S., Coultard, G. (2014). Learning from the land: Indigenous land based pedagogy and decolonization. Decolonization: Indigneity, Education & Society, 3(3).

By Jillian Smith, University of Birmingham

Photo Credit: Peter Essick

The phrase “ethical oil” went mainstream in Canada in 2010 after a national bestseller of the same name.  The book, written by Ezra Levant, a right-wing political activist and lawyer, gave this simplified primer: Canada is a friendly, secure petro state; Saudi Arabia and OPEC (Organization of Petroleum Exporting Countries) are conflicted and undemocratic.  In other words, the opinion is that Greenhouse Gas (GHG) emissions and climate change aside, Canada’s oil is “ethical”.  Opinions aside, the International Energy Agency – a Parisian-based intergovernmental organization – states that depending on the region, Canadian oil is 5-10 per cent more GHG intensive than U.S. conventional fuel from extraction to combustion (well-to-wheel) (IEA, 2011).  Bradshaw (2010) recognises that globalisation, climate change, and energy security are intricately linked; he strives to explain why geography complicates the interaction of climate change and energy security. Bradshaw dubs this the ‘global dilemma’.  While the momentum of Levant and his ‘ethical oil’ campaign may have become distant memories, given the scope of climate change and energy security, it is worth reflecting on why it was paradoxical to rebrand Canadian oil, or any oil, as “ethical” in the first place.

Oil sands development constitutes Canada’s fastest growing source of CO₂ because of the large amount of energy required to extract bitumen from sand.  Additionally, after accounting for the natural gas that powers the process of converting bitumen to crude and the removal of Boreal forest (a large carbon storehouse), Canadian tar sands oil can emit up to three times more GHG’s than conventional oil (Hatch and Price, 2008).  Despite plans to reduce emissions per barrel, with development scheduled to proceed, overall emissions will inevitably rise and the global issue of climate change could weigh heavily on Canada’s shoulders.

In March of 2017, President Trump gave an enthusiastic green light to the “incredible” Keystone pipeline.  This 1400 kilometre mile pipeline will transport up to 830,000 barrels of Canadian crude to Texas.  The State department said it considered foreign policy and energy security in making the approval.  This aligns with Levant’s argument that the world has a choice: embrace Canada’s peaceful, democratic oil or continue its dependence on OPEC’s dictatorship, conflict oil.  Levant, however, went further to suggest that the question of morality must encompass human rights issues independent of environmental costs.  In his mind, reliance on oil from dictatorships to “save modestly on greenhouse gases” was a misguided notion.  Many Americans and Canadians, however, would beg to differ – environmental costs do matter.

Levant, however, is no stranger to controversy and libel.  A former tobacco lobbyist, he is adept at weaving intricate webs.  His favourite spin in the oil debate was lambasting Saudi oil. Certainly a healthy dose of skeptisim and a critical eye is healthy in any society, yet when skeptics are given the same airtime as legitimate researchers, facts become blurred.

With Canada’s oil being celebrated and extolled, while simultaneously being criticized and decried, it is not surprising that Canadians can be confused about the dizzying array of incongruous oil sands reports.  As such, decisions and reformations must first be based on sound scientific assessments of the facts.  Consequently, the Royal Society of Canada (RSC) – Canada’s most prominent group of scholars and scientists, experts in their fields whom are peer-elected to receive this highest academic accolade and fellowship – published a peer-reviewed, comprehensive, 437-page evidence-based study of the oil sands in late 2010.

The report, while not as blasphemous as environmentalists would have liked, is certainly proof that Canada’s oil needs more than a rebranding makeover to be considered “ethical”.  The report concludes that “carbon capture and storage (CCS) does not appear to be a feasible option” and that increasing GHG emissions will create a major challenge for Canada to meet international commitments for overall emission reductions (Gosselin et al., 2010).

Fossil fuels, though intrinsically unsustainable, are the crown jewel of Canada’s multi-billion dollar energy sector.  But virtuous, ethical societies must aim to ultimately reduce oil consumption and pave the way for cleaner, renewable energy developments around the globe.  Additionally, ethical societies must conscientiously manage the resources they are entrusted with and devise coherent energy policies.  To date, North America lags behind the rest of the world in terms of energy efficiency and innovation.  Canada, with its enhanced regulatory oversight, can choose to perform ethically by embracing intergenerational thinking of a world beyond mere decades of oil.  Could some of Canada’s oil proceeds help pave the way toward a more sustainable future?  Regardless, it seems the words “ethical” and “oil”, though a clever marketing pitch, are not to be metaphorically mixed in the long-term interests of the planet or its people.

References

 Bradshaw, M. J. (2010). Global energy dilemmas: a geographical perspective. The Geographical Journal, 176(4), 275-290.

 Gosselin, P., Hrudey, S. E., Naeth, M. A., Plourde, A., Therrien, R., Van Der Kraak, G., et al. (2010, December). Environmental and Health Impacts of Canada’s Oil Sands Industry. Retrieved September 21, 2016, from The Royal Society of Canada: http://www.rsc.ca/documents/RSCreportcompletesecured9Mb_Mar28_11_000.pdf

 Hatch, C., & Price, M. (2008). Canada’s Toxic Tar Sands: The Most Destructive Project on Earth. Toronto: Environmental Defence of Canada.

 IEA. (2011, April 13). Oil in the global energy mix: Climate policies can drive an early peak in oil demand. Retrieved July 2, 2017, from International Energy Agency: http://www.iea.org

 Levant, E. (2010). Ethical Oil: The Case for Canada’s Oil Sands. Toronto: McLelland & Stewart Ltd.