Abstract
Coal may be responsible for more environmental harm than any other energy source. It has a higher carbon content than other fossil fuels, so the use of coal leads to the emission of more carbon dioxide, the primary greenhouse gas, per unit of electricity generated than any other fossil fuel. In fact, in the United States, coal-fired power plants emit one third more carbon dioxide per unit of electricity generated than plants fueled by oil and double the amount emitted by plants fueled by natural gas (U.S. Environmental Protection Agency [EPA], 2012). Additionally, the mining and processing of coal typically leads to the emission of methane, which is trapped in natural deposits of coal and is a much more potent greenhouse gas than carbon dioxide. (U.S. EPA, 2012). Coal is the predominant source of electricity around the world, producing more than 40% of the global total annually (International Energy Agency, 2011). The combination of its widespread use and its high carbon content made coal responsible for nearly 45% of global carbon dioxide emissions from energy consumption in 2010, an increase from 42% in 2006 (calculated from data provided by the U.S. Energy Information Administration, 2012). This trend is not forecast to end anytime soon; by 2035, world carbon dioxide emissions from coal are projected to increase by 68.1% over 2005 levels (U.S. Energy Information Administration, 2008). Coal, therefore, is a leading and growing cause of anthropogenic global climate change, perhaps the greatest environmental threat the world is currently facing.
The combustion of coal also leads to the emission of sulfur dioxide and nitrogen oxides, pollutants that harm human health and are responsible for producing acid rain. Per unit of electricity generation, coal emits approximately 100 times the sulfur dioxide and more than 3 times the nitrogen oxides of natural gas (U.S. EPA, 2012). Thus, a large share of the world’s air pollution and acid rain directly stems from coal use. Acid rain damages ecosystems, crops, and infrastructure, generating economic costs in addition to ecological ones.
Each year, coal-fired power plants in the United States release 386,000 tons of toxic air emissions, making these plants the leading source of air toxics in the country (American Lung Association, 2011). U.S. EPA testing of the smoke stacks of coal-fired power plants found that they release 67 different air toxics, 55 of which are known neurotoxins that cause developmental damage to the brains and nervous systems of children and 24 of which are known, probable, or possible human carcinogens (U.S. EPA, 1998). Furthermore, every year in the United States, fine particle pollution from coal-fired power plants is responsible for nearly 23,600 premature deaths, 38,200 heart attacks, 554,000 asthma attacks, 21,850 hospital admissions, and 26,000 emergency room visits (Physicians for Social Responsibility, 2009). In addition, coal-fired power plants are the largest source of mercury pollution in the nation; such plants emitted more than 65% of all mercury air pollution in 2005 (U.S. EPA, 2005). In December of last year, the EPA passed new federal limits on mercury emissions from existing and future coal-fired power plants that will go into effect in 2015. However, while these stricter limits will decrease air pollution, the unfortunate side-effect is that the toxicity of coal combustion waste will be vastly increased, causing further pollution of the land and water.
There are presently more than 400 coal-fired power plants in 46 U.S. states (American Lung Association, 2011). Many of these plants were built between 1940 and 1969 and are not held to the same pollution standards as those that are built today because they were grandfathered in under the 1977 Clean Air Act amendments, despite their especially high levels of pollution emissions (Barrett, 2011; Lydersen, 2009). Thus, these coal plants do not have modern pollution controls in place and are legally emitting more toxins and pollutants into the air than coal plants that were built after 1977.
Along with the contribution to air pollution and climate change caused by the burning of coal, the mining and processing of this fossil fuel have devastated the environment in many regions around the world. As the articles in this special issue document, coal extraction levels mountains and fills river valleys with slag, annihilating ecosystems in its wake. The processing of coal produces vast quantities of toxic slurry, which is held behind earthen dams that sometimes rupture. The mining and processing of coal often leads to the pollution of surface water, such as rivers and streams, as well as ground water. In addition to water contamination, coal processing creates massive quantities of dust, which often cover nearby towns (Bell, 2010a). Furthermore, the mining process generates noise pollution from explosives and the operation of machinery and damages property near mining sites due to landslides and the shock waves from blasts (Bell, 2010a). This suite of pollution and other environmental problems frequently threatens the health of people in mining areas as well as those near coal-fired power plants, making coal mining and coal burning major public health concerns. For example, researchers have found that in comparison with the rest of the United States, coal mining areas of Appalachia suffer higher rates of hospitalization for certain respiratory and cardiovascular conditions, as well as higher rates of mortality, birth defects, cancer, and chronic illnesses, even after controlling for such variables as income and education (Ahern et al., 2011; Ahern & Hendryx, 2008; Hendryx, 2008; Hendryx & Ahern, 2008; Hendryx, Ahern, & Nurkiewicz, 2007; Hendryx, Wolfe, Luo, & Webb, 2012).
In addition to environmental destruction and the impact on public health, coal mining is also often associated with the disruption of communities and the distortion of local economies in many regions of the world, most notably in Appalachia (Bell, 2009; Fox, 1999). In this region, as they likely do in many others, coal companies lobby local and state governments, work to undermine environmental justice movements, and manipulate community identity to maintain their power, even while contributing a small and declining share to the local and regional economy (Bell & Braun, 2010; Bell & York, 2010). The accumulation of environmental, health, and economic woes associated with mining often leads to the destruction of social capital in communities in mining areas, creating substantial threats to mental and physical health (Bell, 2009, 2010a).
There is a pressing need to further document and understand the effects of coal use on global and local environments, on human communities, and on the lives of individual people, as well as to analyze the forces that drive coal production and consumption. Although a sociology of energy has existed for some time (Rosa, Machlis, & Keating, 1988), it has remained underdeveloped, and coal has not received extensive or focused assessment within this literature. A small body of social science literature examining various aspects of the interface between coal production, environmental degradation, and social justice exists; however, many gaps remain, both theoretical and empirical. The importance of the many issues connected with coal use and the limited extent to which they have been addressed in the social science literature are the central reasons behind this special issue.
Overview of the Articles
This special issue on “Coal and the Environment” brings together seven articles from a variety of scholars, who examine the subject in a diversity of ways. Five of these articles focus on coal mining in Appalachia, one focuses on coal mining in Spain, and another examines cross-national patterns. While the fact that the geographic scope of this collection is somewhat limited, given that the majority of these articles are centered in one region, the range of studies expands our understanding on several theoretical fronts and addresses a variety of important issues that have implications for many regions and nations. Taken together, we hope these articles provide part of a foundation for further examining the social and environmental aspects of coal use.
In the first article in this special issue, “Addictive Economies and Coal Dependency: Methods of Extraction and Socioeconomic Outcomes in West Virginia, 1997-2009,” Perdue and Pavela examine the question of whether coal-mining counties fare better economically than non–coal-mining counties in West Virginia, the second leading producer of coal in the United States. Through investigating how coal production and the method of coal extraction influence poverty, per capita income, and unemployment rates over a 13-year time span, the authors find that, contrary to popular belief, coal mining counties are economically worse off than their non–coal-mining counterparts. Perdue and Pavela’s analysis reveals that coal-mining counties have higher rates of poverty than non-coal-mining counties and that as a county’s rate of coal extraction increases, so does its level of poverty. Furthermore, coal-mining counties are not found to have higher per capita income or higher employment rates than non-coal-mining counties. Likening coal dependency to a drug addiction, the authors contend that while there may be short-term economic benefits to mining coal, over the longer term, there are extensive economic costs. Thus, in the case of coal, it seems that the “economy versus environment” debate is unfounded; over the long term, coal-mining is neither good for the economy nor the environment.
As Perdue and Pavela assert, there is a widespread belief that resource extraction is a boon for local economies, despite the overwhelming evidence to the contrary. In “How Big Is Big Coal? Public Perceptions of the Coal Industry’s Economic Impact in West Virginia,” Blaaker, Woods, and Oliver examine just how pervasive this false idea is. Through surveying 494 college students at a large public university in West Virginia, the researchers investigate how public perceptions of the coal industry’s economic benefits compare with the industry’s actual contributions to a number of economic measures, such as jobs, total wages, and tax revenues. Blaaker, Woods, and Oliver find that the majority of their respondents vastly overestimated the importance of the coal industry to the economy of West Virginia. In addition to assessing how pervasive such inaccurate perceptions are, their study also aims to examine how estimates of the coal industry’s impact vary across groups. They find that a number of the groups the astroturf organization “Friends of Coal” targets through its campaigns—namely White residents and those who enjoy hunting, fishing, and other outdoor pursuits—report higher estimates of the coal industry’s economic contributions than non-Whites and those who do not participate in these types of activities. The authors provide important insight into the reasons for their non-findings as well. Overall, this research provides empirical evidence for the effectiveness of the coal industry’s ideology construction efforts to convince the public that coal is still the “lifeblood” of West Virginia’s economy when, in fact, this is not the case.
One of the consequences of a population’s overestimation of the benefits associated with coal mining is that the environmental and social risks may be overlooked. Scott, McSpirit, Breheny, and Howell demonstrate this tendency in their article, “The Long-Term Effects of a Coal Waste Disaster on Social Trust in Appalachian Kentucky.” In October of 2000, more than 300 million gallons of coal waste spilled out of a slurry impoundment in Martin County, Kentucky, polluting more than100 miles of streams and killing all aquatic life in its path. Through conducting surveys in the immediate aftermath of the disaster and then again 10 years later, the authors seek to understand the long-term effects of this disaster on residents’ levels of trust in regulatory agencies, the government, “experts,” and coal corporations. Perhaps surprisingly, the authors find that many residents’ trust in these entities has rebounded in the 10 years since the disaster. They question whether this regained trust is merited, given the fact that there are still 27 coal waste impoundments in Kentucky considered to be a “high hazard” for failure and that there are no emergency or evacuation plans for communities within the path of these impoundments. The authors point to the coal industry’s far-reaching public relations campaigns, such as the Friends of Coal, as a possible explanation for residents’ rebounded trust. The study concludes that this unwarranted trust may leave residents in the coal-mining area of Appalachian Kentucky vulnerable to future coal waste disasters.
As evidenced by previous studies, a community’s historical connection to coal mining may lead some local residents to staunchly defend the coal industry as part of their collective identity and to “other” anyone who calls into question the negative environmental consequences of coal extraction (Bell, 2010a; Bell & Braun, 2010; Bell & York, 2010; Scott, 2010). In her article, “Laciana is Black. Greens Goo Away!” Environmentalists as Scapegoats in a Mountaintop Removal Conflict in Laciana Valley, Spain,” Herrero Cabrejas examines the narratives and scapegoating practices of coal supporters who seek to disempower and silence local environmentalists, sometimes in violent ways. Adding an important international perspective to this special issue, Herrero Cabrejas’s case study is centered on a region of Spain that is designated a protected area by the European Union. Despite this designation, illegal mountaintop removal (MTR) mining has been taking place there for the last 15 years. Local residents of the Laciana Valley are divided between those who are calling for an end to the illegal MTR mining and those who support the mining operation and wish to see it expanded in order to create more jobs. Wrongly blaming the environmentalists for economic declines in the valley, the pro-MTR contingent mobilizes various scapegoating narratives to vilify those who are protesting MTR. By othering local environmentalists, the MTR supporters are able to justify violence against those criticizing the practice. Herrero Cabrejas argues that in addition to alienating local environmentalists from the community, the “scapegoating practices” of MTR supporters also promote fear and a “culture of silence” among local residents. This culture of silence, in turn, helps isolate and deter resistance to MTR.
Fitzgerald’s article, “The Messy Politics of ‘Clean Coal’: The Shaping of a Contested Term in Appalachia’s Energy Debate,” moves our discussion from coal extraction to coal consumption through an examination of how different stakeholders define and understand “clean coal” technologies and their role in the future of energy production. As Fitzgerald explains, “clean coal” is a term that originated in the 1980s in response to the Clean Air Act and was first used in reference to technologies that reduced sulfur dioxide and nitrogen oxide emissions from coal-fired power plants. In the 2000s, when concerns about climate change were on the rise, “clean coal” was co-opted by industry groups to also refer to carbon capture and storage technologies that were being developed to reduce carbon emissions. By drawing on interviews with various stakeholders in Appalachia, Fitzgerald examines how environmental and social justice groups contest and redefine the idea of “clean coal” in their efforts to achieve cleaner energy solutions. She finds that views on the term and the technologies vary across actors at the local, regional, and national levels. Local activists in particular commonly emphasized that the environmental impacts associated with coal extraction cannot be ignored in the “clean coal” discourse, arguing that the ecological and public health problems associated with coal mining and processing would not be mitigated by so-called “clean coal” technologies. This article exemplifies a common tension surrounding environmental problems, where industry, government, and large sectors of the public are often optimistic that technological fixes can and will be found, whereas others remain highly skeptical about whether environmental sustainability and social justice can be achieved without more fundamental economic and social transformations.
“Up in Smoke: The Human Ecology and Political Economy of Coal Consumption,” by Clark, Jorgenson, and Auerbach, adds a global viewpoint to our understanding of the factors that drive coal consumption. The authors draw on human ecology and political economy, two theoretical traditions that have shown particular promise for helping us understand human impacts on the natural environment (York & Mancus, 2009; York, Rosa, & Dietz, 2003), to inform their analysis of panel data for 66 nations over the period 1990 to 2005. They find that population growth and economic growth are key factors driving coal consumption. Demonstrating the importance of world-systems analyses, they also find that export-oriented manufacturing contributes to the rising consumption of coal in Global South nations, but not in nations of the Global North. This finding highlights how environmental burdens are being shifted from affluent, core nations, to less powerful nations in the global periphery. More generally, it points to the importance of recognizing that nations are not isolated from one another, and local processes need to be understood in the context of global economic networks that shape production, consumption, and trade patterns in all regions of the world. Thus, the problems associated with coal mining in regions such as Appalachia are influenced not only by powerful regional actors, such as a particular coal company, but by global power structures that drive markets.
We close the issue with Wishart’s theoretically focused essay, “Coal River’s Last Mountain: King Coal’s Après moi le déluge Reign.” Wishart frames his essay around a case study of the political conflicts that have ensued over two competing proposals for energy production on Coal River Mountain in Raleigh County, West Virginia. The first proposal for the mountain is four MTR mining operations that would destroy nearly 5,400 acres of the mountain. The second proposal is for a large scale wind farm, which would allow the mountain to remain intact. Despite the fact that the wind farm would provide more long-term benefits to local residents than the MTR operations, particularly once the health and environmental costs of MTR are accounted for, the coal industry has thus far won the battle for the mountain, and mining preparation has begun. Wishart draws on Marx’s work to show how the metabolic rift created by the capitalist economic system, where ecological processes are disrupted as part of the short-sighted quest for profits by corporations, is part of the process that leads to the exploitation of workers. Therefore, the class-based political struggle for improving the human condition and the struggle to create environmental sustainability are intimately connected. Demonstrating how the absurdities of capitalism are exemplified through the case of Coal River Mountain, Wishart argues that the capitalist system depends on an orientation toward the present moment that discounts the future and thus prevents sustainable human development. A central insight of this work is that successfully addressing environmental problems and social justice issues requires confronting the contradictions of capitalism.
From Research to Action
While the mining, processing, and burning of coal have tremendous consequences for public health, ecosystems, and the future of our planet, there are countless additional environmental problems caused by other industries within the energy sector. Generating power from nuclear reactors, hydroelectric dams, the combustion of biomass, as well as fossil fuels other than coal, contributes to a variety of environmental problems and risks (Colborn, Kwiatkowski, Schultz, & Bachran, 2011; Perrow, 1999; Zehner, 2012). Even solar and wind power have environmental costs. For example, the manufacturing of solar cells produces toxins, whereas wind turbines require large expanses of land and contribute to the deaths of birds and bats (Union of Concerned Scientists, 2002; Zehner, 2012). Thus, the underlying problem of environmental destruction will not be solved by simply transitioning away from coal to other forms of energy production. To move to toward sustainability, we must question the endless drive for growth in material production and consumption that has characterized the modern era. There is no simple technological fix for our environmental problems. The problem, as Wishart argues above, is with our present economic system. Environmental destruction is inherent to the relations of production under corporate capitalism and its relentless drive for growth (Buttel, 2004; Foster, 2005; Foster, Clark, & York, 2010; Foster & York, 2004; Gould, Pellow, & Schnaiberg, 2004; Schnaiberg, 1980).
This system of destruction will not change unless the voices of those who are impacted by the destruction are heard and demand change. This is a difficult task, however, because the biggest corporate polluters have a stranglehold on democracy in the United States and abroad. As Daniel Faber (2008) argues, powerful industries have created a “Polluter-Industrial Complex,” composed of an intricate web of think tanks, policy institutes, research centers, foundations, nonprofit organizations, public relations firms, and political action committees that are organized with the purpose of waging war on environmental regulations. The Polluter-Industrial Complex is able to wield inordinate influence through employing a variety of tactics, one of the greatest of which is through pouring millions of dollars into lobbying efforts. Special interest lobbying is a powerful mechanism for “colonizing the state,” as “The infusion of such enormous sums of money into the lobbying process buys corporate polluters disproportionate access to governmental officials and exerts a corrosive effect on American democracy” (Faber, 2008; p. 98). Accessing and providing input into public policy is a nearly impossible task for average citizens, most of whom do not have the time, the resources, or the knowledge to penetrate the wall of corporate lobbyists and industry-generated information to reach policy makers.
We as academics can have an important role in bringing the voices of these citizens forward; however, it is not enough for us to simply conduct our research and hope our findings will “trickle down” through our scholarly publications. There has been increasing interest in recent years in bridging the divide between the ivory tower and the grassroots. This appeal for greater connection between academia and civil society through public and political means has been made across several disciplines and has been called by various names, including Liberation Sociology (Feagin & Vera, 2008), Public Sociology (Agger, 2000; Burawoy, 2005), Public Anthropology (Borofsky, 2011), and Activist Critical Geography (Hay, 2001). Practitioners of this more engaged version of social science have recognized that for our findings to be accessible and of use to the public, it is often necessary for us to take an active role in making our research useful. Writing op-eds and policy briefs, aiding the work of social movement organizations, blogging, and producing documentaries are all ways that social scientists can—and sometimes do—take their research findings “to the streets.” Others advocate for the power of using activist research methods, such as participatory action research (Fals-Borda, 1987; McIntyre, 2008; McTaggart, 1997; Tandon, 1981), feminist activist ethnography (Davis & Craven, 2011), and photovoice (Bell, 2008, 2010b, 2011), to empower research subjects to participate in envisioning and working toward solutions to the social problems they face.
For those of us who are educators, one of the most straightforward means for disseminating our research on environmental problems to wider publics is, of course, through our teaching. However, while discussing environmental injustices in the classroom is important, it may not be enough to inspire action. Environmental sociology has the power to open students’ eyes to many of the uncomfortable and disturbing truths of the world, but within that potential also lies the danger of fostering a sense of hopelessness among students, which often leads to passivity. Thus, beyond imparting knowledge to our students, we must also find ways to provide them with the tools and the opportunities to turn knowledge into action.
As bell hooks (1994) argues, “The classroom remains the most radical space of possibility in the academy” (p. 12). With regard to coal, there is ample opportunity for turning classroom learning into radical action. As noted above, there are presently more than 400 coal-fired power plants in 46 different states causing great harm to the environment and public health. It is not only large-scale power plants that are to blame for the many health and environmental problems associated with burning coal, however. Across the United States, more than 60 colleges and universities operate their own smaller scale coal-fired boilers on site to generate heat and hot water for the buildings on their campuses (Sierra Club, 2011). And, many of these coal-fired boilers are older facilities that have also been grandfathered in under the Clean Air Act, legally spewing toxic soot on the campus and nearby communities.
The Sierra Club’s Beyond Coal Campaign has been working with communities and college campuses across the country to retire coal-fired plants and replace them with cleaner energy solutions. This movement provides an excellent opportunity for students to become engaged in researching the health impacts of coal-fired plants in their communities or on their campuses, the entrenched power structures and other barriers that make a transition away from coal difficult, and how other universities and communities have successfully moved away from coal.
Working with local environmental justice groups to create activist research projects for our students is one way to fight the Polluter-Industrial Complex. There are, of course, many other ways. Our task is to find them. Some have even argued that finding such ways to turn our research into opportunities for activism should be considered a duty within the academy. As Philo and Miller assert
A large part of humanity is being obliterated by the social, material, and cultural relationships which form our world. It can be painful and perhaps professionally damaging to look at such issues and to ask critical questions about social outcomes and power . . . But for academics to look away from the forces which limit and damage the lives of so many, gives at best an inadequate social science and at worst is an intellectual treason—just fiddling while the world burns (p. 79, cited in Pellow, 2007, p. 35)
Footnotes
Declaration of Conflicting Interests
The authors declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
Funding
The authors received no financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.