Time to Experience Recreational Value of the River Valley

(Originally published in the Northeast News, July 7, 2009, pp. 8-9)

As the fourth annual Paddle for the Peace approaches, this is a good time to revisit one of the most persistent myths about Site C. In regard to recreation, there’s a widespread impression that we’d simply be exchanging a river valley for a lake.

The pro-construction bias in BC Hydro’s consultation literature is partly responsible for this perception. For example, an artistic rendering of the dam on the cover of the Pre-Consultation Discussion Guide creates an impression of undisturbed pastoral tranquility.

Similarly, the Feasibility Review describes what sounds like a fair trade: “creation of the reservoir would result in a decrease in river-based activities, although this could be offset by new opportunities for reservoir-based recreation” (p. 51). The Stage Two, Round Two Discussion Guide informs readers that “long-term changes would shift use toward lake-type activities” (p. 26).

To paraphrase BC Hydro’s apparent message about recreation: you lose something; you win something.

Even developers from afar have gotten into the act. By ironic coincidence, the new hotel in Hudson’s Hope takes its current name from a national chain called “Lakeview” Inns and Suites. This in Hudson’s Hope of all places, whose town council recently passed a resolution opposing Site C.

What would we really be getting with a third dam and a new reservoir? I don’t think anyone knows for sure.

BC Hydro’s pro-dam boosterism dangles the familiar carrots, mentioning parks and boat launches.

However, BC Hydro also acknowledges that “the development of beaches and the regression of the shoreline is a process that could take many decades” (Stage Two, Round One Discussion Guide, p. 12). In fact, members of the Site C team have said that a new reservoir may not even be safe to use for a number of years.

To appreciate the mixed realities of reservoir-based recreation, we need look no further than Williston reservoir.

Williston has staunch admirers--people who speak very highly of its recreational opportunities, celebrating the area as a mecca for fishing, hunting, and boating. I respect those views.

But Williston is not without problems. Forty years after the construction of the Bennett Dam, heavy waves and wind are still causing erosion problems for some property owners on the Peace Reach.

Due to the rinsing and washing effect of the reservoir, land owners along Dunlevy Road have been watching their property “literally crumble into the lake” (“Erosion,” Alaska Highway News, March 2, 2009). Williston reservoir is nowhere near stabilizing under current conditions, and we might ask whether the rate of erosion is actually accelerating.

The picture below shows a cabin on land adjacent to the yacht club. Just a few years ago, there was approximately 100 feet of land between the cabin and the shoreline.




Dust storms are also a problem. The next picture depicts a dust storm on the shores of Peace Reach.



No one has suffered as much from dust storms as the Tsay Keh Dene people at the far north end of Finlay Reach. In a study conducted by Baker et al. (2000), eighty percent of the band members who were interviewed “indicated that the dust storms were responsible for adverse health effects" such as "eye irritation, respiratory tract problems, and skin rashes" (p. 571).

Approaching Tsay Keh Dene Village at sunset in early June, I saw what looked like a thick bank of fog hanging above the community on an otherwise clear evening. Within the village, fine, silty particles of dust create a thick accumulation on window screens.

Granted, even without human interference, change and the need for adaptation are basic principles of nature. And few things in the natural world ever fit human notions of perfection. Yet we shouldn’t downplay the often troubling impact of massive industrial development.

Legitimate concerns about the recreational potential of a new dam go beyond erosion, landslides, and dust storms. The prospect of a Site C pondage area also raises serious questions about debris from tributaries, fog, rough water, elevated levels of methylmercury, and loss of critical animal habitat.

At the end of the day, a uniquely beautiful river valley would be permanently destroyed, and it’s impossible to “mitigate” that loss.

So the next time we hear about a nice lake that’s supposed to accompany Site C, critical reflection would be wise. Patrick McCully, author of Silenced Rivers, has observed that recreation is typically promoted as one of the “add-on benefits” of large hydro-electric projects, and that such benefits are often exaggerated in order to gain public acceptance (pp. 155-157).

Postscript: More pictures of Williston Reservoir, followed by an image of the fourth annual Paddle for the Peace.

Dunlevy boat launch unusable in spring, at low water level

Erosion along road

Erosion and submerged log

Dunlevy boat launch in disrepair



Hundreds of Peace region residents turn out for the annual "Paddle for the Peace," showing their opposition to Site C.

Geothermal Energy is the Way of the Future

(Published in the Northeast News, July 1, 2009, p. 13)

If Site C goes ahead, we’d see the culmination of a plan that was developed in the 1950s. Rather than continuing to rely on an outdated, postwar vision of energy development, we can embrace new options. Geothermal power is one of the best.

Accessing geothermal resources involves drilling down into subterranean pools of hot water or steam, a process requiring the kind of expertise that exists in our oil and gas industry. The most familiar geothermal applications provide space heating for homes and offices.

Using geothermal reservoirs for the large-scale, commercial production of electricity is still a fairly new process in North America. At a typical project site, a group of wells are connected to a central production plant. The heat drawn from the earth turns generators, creating electricity.



In British Columbia, we live along the Pacific-Rim earthquake zone where moving tectonic plates bring molten rock and water closer to the earth’s surface, enhancing the potential for geothermal extraction. Canada is “the only country” on this “ring of fire” that “has not developed its high-temperature geothermal resources on a commercial scale” (Hamilton, “Canada’s Ground Temperatures Rising,” Toronto Star, 2009).

The United States is leading the way. In December 2006, there were 61 geothermal power plants operating in five western states. Such plants typically vary in size from 10 to 260 megawatts. The Calpine plant that appears above-left is in the Mayacama Mountains of California, 72 miles north of San Francisco, amid a field of steam reservoirs known as "the Geysers."

In total, the US has nearly 3,000 megawatts of geothermal capacity. This is a small fraction of the national energy supply, but geothermal power could meet 13.9% of all new US demand by 2015. Within this same time frame, geothermal could also meet over a quarter of total energy consumption in “hot” states such as Nevada and Idaho (Research Reports International, Geothermal Power Generation, 2007, pp. 62-63)

Like any energy option, geothermal has drawbacks and benefits. One of the challenges is that reservoirs can be hard to locate, especially in rugged volcanic terrain. This means that “costly exploration and confirmation drilling is necessary at the outset of a project to determine” the qualities of a potential site.

And “it is difficult to know with certainty how the industry will be governed in the future, so investment entails added risk” (BC Hydro, Green Energy Study, 2002, p. 21). Because geothermal resources are often in remote locations, a costly transmission infrastructure may also need to be developed.

On the positive side, once a transmission infrastructure is in place, geothermal plants located around the province, designed to meet local demand, would increase the security of our energy supply.

Geothermal energy is also efficient. While some reservoirs may “run out of steam,” large pools tend to provide a consistent supply, allowing individual plants to operate near 100% capacity. This makes geothermal plants “ideally suited” to supply firm, “base-power requirements” (BC Hydro, Green Energy Study, 2002, p. 21).

Further, geothermal energy tends to be “environmentally benign.” Its land-based footprint is relatively light and C02 emissions are minimal, making it a genuinely green technology that presents an attractive solution to both climate change and environmental degradation.

All things considered, geothermal energy deserves serious consideration as a major resource option in BC, but you’d never know this after reading the deeply biased public consultation literature for Site C, which has little to say about geothermal as a promising resource alternative.

In tables listing BC's options, the Stage One Feasibility Review (pp. 18-19) and the Stage Two, Round One Discussion Guide (p. 8) completely ignore geothermal. A similar table in the Stage Two, Round Two Discussion Guide finally acknowledges geothermal, but only notes the “South Meager” project.

Conversely, BC Hydro’s own Green and Alternative Energy Division identifies sixteen potential sites around the province. Six of these offer the greatest opportunity for commercial development and could in total generate over 1,000 megawatts of power (Green Energy Study, 2002, p. 20).

Among the six most promising sites, Western Geopower’s South Meager project, in a volcanic field near Pemberton, about 175 kilometres north of Vancouver, is clearly in the lead. Results of exploration work indicate the presence of a large geothermal reservoir with an area of 4.5 to 7.5 km² and an average temperature of 220 to 240°C.

South Meager promises to be a major resource, with approximately 100 to 250 megawatts or more of potential development capacity, and could start production as early as 2010 (Pembina Institute online).

Although the Site C team would have us believe otherwise, we do have a mix of options and choices—choices that would enable us to save a beautiful valley with a rich history and important agricultural capability. Indeed, the Globe Foundation’s Endless Energy Report (2007) states that “in British Columbia the potential exists to generate a significant proportion of the province’s energy needs from geothermal resources” (p. 40).

Building big dams and flooding river valleys belong to the past. Geothermal energy is the way of the future.

Wind Power Could Help Us Preserve the Valley

(Originally published in the Northeast News June 24, 2009, p. 15)

During public consultation for Site C, BC Hydro provided a cursory survey of energy-supply options, stressing the advantages of hydropower and the disadvantages of other choices. However, options such as wind energy deserve more impartial and sustained public discussion.

In British Columbia, with our long tradition of hydroelectric development, wind power may seem exotic or fanciful, yet we’re behind the times. Although BC doesn’t have a single commercially-operational wind turbine, wind is the fastest growing electricity resource in the world today.

According to Energy Tech Magazine (Feb. 3, 2009), “in 2008, more wind power was installed in the European Union than any other electricity-generating technology.” Denmark, for example, relies on wind power for approximately 20% of its current electricity production and hopes that wind power will supply 50% of national electricity needs by 2030. Across Europe, an average of 20 wind turbines were installed each working day in 2008.

Globally, while the construction of large dams has declined sharply, wind power is a booming, multi-billion dollar, high-tech industry, in which countries such as Germany have become world leaders.

Independent academic research discusses the merits of wind power. Mark Jacobson (2008), Director of the Atmosphere/Energy Program at Stanford University, identifies wind power as the best way to promote energy security while mitigating climate, land, and health impacts.

According to Jacobson, wind turbines have the lowest lifecycle CO2 emissions among available energy technologies. In general, the relative overall impacts of wind farms also look pretty good when compared to mining, flooding, and nuclear waste.

Jacobson’s work is particularly significant because it qualifies BC Hydro’s description of wind as “intermittent” power.

Jacobson grants that wind power “at one location and time” is naturally intermittent. Yet he also says that “whether or not intermittency affects [wind power] depends on whether efforts to reduce intermittency are made.” An interconnected, coordinated transmission grid among wind farms over regions just a few hundred kilometers apart “can eliminate hours of zero power.”

Also, developments in turbine technology are constantly improving efficiency. Today’s gearless or direct-drive turbines minimize mechanical wear, generating power like a dynamo on a bicycle wheel. Meanwhile, individual turbines are becoming bigger and more powerful: six megawatt machines are being built and many are three megawatts.

The picture to the left shows the Enercon E-126, one of the largest wind turbines in the world, under construction in Emden, Germany. Big turbines like this will produce 20 million kilowatt hours per year, providing enough electricity for 1,776 North American homes.


But when it comes to energy production, there are no free lunches. Powerful wind farms are large industrial projects that can raise significant environmental concerns, depending on the location.

Here in the Peace country, for example, the proposed Hackney Hills wind project is controversial largely because it will disrupt sensitive alpine habitat for the threatened Graham herd of woodland caribou.

And even if intermittency can be mitigated by large-scale development in multiple locations, the inherent variability of wind creates a gap between actual output (the so-called “capacity factor”) and combined nameplate or “installed” capacity.

The best individual sites may have a capacity factor of 20 to 40%. The average capacity factor among multiple wind farms connected to a regional grid tends to be lower: Germany has an average capacity factor of 16.9%; in the US, where only the best sites have been developed so far, the average capacity factor is 28.8% (De Wachter, 2008).

Nor can wind be stored or banked like hydropower. Moment by moment, we use it or lose it.

So what does all this mean for BC’s future? Could wind power help to provide a desirable alternative to Site C? This depends on our goals and priorities. If the priority is to have large amounts of surplus energy on hand for export to the United States, Site C is the answer.

Yet if we’re really focused on domestic needs, on conservation, and on potentially green technology, wind power could, perhaps, be part of a diversified energy portfolio that would help us preserve what’s left of the Peace River valley.

As Jacobson’s work suggests and as countries in Europe have shown, the coordinated output from wind farms in different locations can provide a significant proportion of firm, base-load power. Jacobson and others are also addressing the prospect of wind-hydro integration, whereby existing hydro facilities, with their large storage potential, could act as a “battery” for wind, bolstering supply during peak demand periods.

Our mighty dams have generated abundant, cheap power for many decades, but they’ve also decimated river valleys, fish and wildlife habitat, and people’s lives. As we look to the future, we need to concentrate on diversification and catch up with other countries.

In the right locations, wind power has a lot to offer, but it’s only part of the solution. The answers are not only in the air above us; they’re in the ground below. More on that next week.

Karl Mattson's Film a Rallying Cry Against Site C

(Originally published in the Northeast News June 17, 2009, p. A12)



Based in Rolla, BC, Karl Mattson creates world-class documentary films. Keeping the Peace, one of his latest works, captures the heart and soul of arguments against Site C.

The feel of Mattson’s film is established early on, by wide skies, fertile valleys, and running water. A deeply reverberating drum song evokes the primordial necessity of water, “the main ingredient for life.”

The film’s overarching thesis is that there is no proper management plan to deal with the cumulative effects of industrial development in the vast Mackenzie drainage basin. The prospect of Site C is presented as a major example of our failure to protect a sensitive ecosystem that sustains fish, wildlife, and people.

Throughout, there is a marked contrast between the office-based bureaucrats who come and go, and the people for whom the Peace River valley is home.

Hugo Shaw, BC Hydro’s former Site C Project Director, talks about the dam’s design specifications and costs, but his managerial perspective is detached from the cultural and environmental significance of the valley. Shaw’s comments reflect what UBC historian Tina Loo calls a “high-modernist schematic.” Such rhetoric objectifies place, focusing on technical challenges and details while ignoring the real costs of development.

Shaw has since left BC Hydro and moved on to TransAlta, a power generation and wholesale marketing company that sells electricity to customers in various regions of Canada, the United States, and Australia.

Richard Neufeld also makes an appearance. Speaking as the province’s former Minister of Energy, Mines, and Resources, Neufeld implicitly defends Site C by saying “At the end of the day, we need to keep the lights on. And I can tell you when the lights go off, I get lots of calls. Big calls.”

I see this bristling observation as a mix of fear mongering and blunt intimidation. Neufeld seems imply that our backs are against the wall, that we have no choices. Nothing could be further from the truth.


If the interviews are a measure of thoughtful reflection, the critics of Site C win hands down.

Max Desjarlais, an elder of the West Moberly Lake First Nations, speaks as someone who has lived close to the land his whole life. “All we have to do,” he confirms, “is look after what we have.”

Roland and Clarence Willson, also of West Moberly, explain “there’s a standard concept” that the reservoir will be “a nice clean body of water, a nice lake for fishing and boating.” Scenes of debris and erosion at Williston suggest otherwise. Furthermore, the Willsons point out that another reservoir would flood critical wildlife habitat.

Keeping the Peace then takes viewers into the kitchen of the Ardill family, whose Peace Valley ranch dates back to 1920. Dick Ardill, the family patriarch (pictured lower right), talks movingly about the importance of agriculture and what stands to be lost if the dam goes through.
Karen Mckean, who has worked on the Ardill Ranch for about thirty years, offers a more personal perspective. Speaking of the ranch and the valley that she lives in, Karen says “It’s your life and everything around you.”

We also hear from Larry Peterson, one of the most informed, eloquent, and passionate opponents of Site C. Another long-time valley resident, Peterson has been fighting Site C most of his adult life. Sifting rich alluvial soil through his hands, Peterson says the land in the Site C pondage area can produce “enough vegetables to feed the entire north for the next 100 years.”

Mattson’s film follows the Mackenzie drainage basin east, into the industrial nightmare of Alberta’s Tar Sands, to Lake Athabasca, then to the Slave and Mackenzie rivers that lead to the Arctic Ocean. This macro-perspective highlights the interconnectedness of all things, stressing a failure to adequately consider the cumulative impacts of industrial development.

Commenting on his work, Mattson says “I personally think that concerned residents and grassroots groups within the watershed need to compile their efforts and join forces and really focus on government regulations as this is where the issues with industry are created.”

Keeping the Peace is currently available at locations such as the Dawson Creek Art Gallery, Northern Lights College Library, and the Hudson's Hope Museum. The documentary will also be showing on CHET TV and SHAW cable. Copies can be requested by e-mailing karlbmattson@yahoo.ca

Ultimately, Mattson’s film speaks to each one of us who thinks of the Peace River country as home. It’s a call to look past short-term gains, to think of the future and of the home we want to leave for our children’s children. Thank you Karl.

BC Geographers Link Big Dams with Topocide

(Published in the Northeast News, March 17, 2009)

Jim Windsor is a geographer who now teaches at the University of Northern British Columbia. Alistair McVey, also a geographer, worked at the College of New Caledonia and North Island College, and is now retired. In an article published in The Geographical Journal, Windsor and McVey (2005) link big dams to a form of “place annihilation” known as “topocide.”

Topocide involves not only a loss of place, but a loss of “sense of place.” It is a sobering, double-barrelled concept that provides a way of understanding the consequences of Site C.

If Site C proceeds, the loss of place is a given. Over 80 kilometers of river valley would be flooded, submerging more than 5,000 hectares. That sounds like a lot of land, but the figure might not mean much to some people. Think of it this way: 5,000 hectares is roughly equal to 10,000 CFL football fields. The scale and totality of such destruction are difficult to comprehend.

Five-thousand hectares or 10,000 football fields is actually a very conservative estimate because this figure doesn't include land that would be affected by reservoir set-back lines, transmission lines, earth-fill quarries, etc. It is also important to note that we would be losing four major alluvial flats along the river bottom, roughly 1,300 acres of some of the best agricultural land in BC.

Ironically, the severity of the devastation would be increased if BC Hydro corrects past errors by executing a thorough “clearing plan” whose primary objective would be to remove as much organic matter as possible.

Affirming a connection made months ago in this column, Windsor and McVey note that dam construction leads to the kind of treeless, barren “deathscapes” typically associated with the scorched-earth tactics of total warfare. Photo 1 (below left) shows a World War I battlefield. Photo 2 (below right), courtesy of Donna Smith, shows some of the clearing that occurred during the construction of the Bennett Dam.

Furthermore, as people in this region know, reservoirs do not wash away the problem, exchanging a river for a nice lake. In the case of Site C, we would we would be left with a hazardous impoundment area potentially subject to debris from tributaries, accelerated erosion, an increased likelihood of landslides, increased fog and wind turbulence, and, depending on the effectiveness of the clearing plan, elevated levels of methylmercury, a neurotoxin that spreads through the food web.

Nor would wildlife in the valley simply move to higher ground. Wildlife biologists tell us that most of the animals will die.

The totality of the devastation associated with large dams leads to the second aspect of topocide. By killing everything in sight, we also destroy our own “sense of place,” our sense of belonging: “homes, fields, and roads are no longer there; the entire landscape has been obliterated.” And even if a reservoir is drained, “no landmarks, no cherished reminders of home” would remain visible beneath the sediment (Windsor and McVey, p. 156).

During the flooding of Williston, for example, the Beattie family’s Gold Bar ranch, famous throughout the north, was wiped off the face of the map. BC Hydro burned the main house, a beautiful, three-storey log home, “just before they started backing the water up behind the dam” (Pollon and Matheson, This Was Our Valley, pp. 210-221). Photo 3 (below left) shows the Gold Bar Ranch before the flood. Photo 4 (below right) shows the obliteration of the Gold Bar Ranch after the flood. Both images appear in This Was Our Valley.

Focusing on northwestern BC, Windsor and McVey tell how the people of the Cheslatta T’En First Nation were displaced by Alcan’s Kenney Dam on the Nechako River, during the early 1950s. The story has much in common with Tsay Key Dene Band’s experience of Williston Reservoir (see "Dust Has Not Settled for the Tsay Keh Dene," Northeast News, February 18, 2009, p. 18).

After the Cheslatta people were abruptly evicted from their ancestral lands, “their buildings were razed and their ranches bulldozed.” Eventually, a community church was also destroyed. Particularly disturbing to the Cheslatta was the eventual destruction of [a] cemetery . . . and the erosion of grave sites, which resulted in several coffins being carried downstream in the current” (Windsor & McVey, p. 155). The following two pictures, from Windsor and McVey's article, show the Chestlatta cemetery before and after the flooding: "The Cheslatta graveyard had, until its destruction, provided the [the people of the] community with a sense of identity and continuity with their past" (pp. 155-156).

Citing Justice Thomas Berger's findings during the Mackenzie Valley Pipeline Inquiry, Windsor and McVey explain that dam-induced topocide has taken a particular toll on the people of First Nations communities, who "regard themselves as inseparable from the land, the waters, and the animals with which they share the world. They regard themselves as custodians of the land, which is for their use during their lifetime, and which they must pass on to their children and their children’s children after them."

In the heyday of dam construction, roughly forty years ago, society at large was somehow prepared to overlook the realities of topocide. It was acceptable to see the world through WAC Bennett’s eyes and believe that river valleys were there for the taking, that dams were monuments to progress. That day is over.

Recounting the wisdom of human geography, Windsor and McVey tell us that place is essential to personal and cultural identity, providing “a centre of human meaning, intentions, and values. Place is where commitments are made and obligations met.”

It’s time for all British Columbians to become more mindful of the Peace River region and to speak up in defence of the river after which this place is named.

Orwell's Windmill Sounds Familiar

(Originally published in the Northeast News, March 4, 2009, p. 19)

George Orwell’s Animal Farm, published in 1945, is one of the great novels of the twentieth century. It is typically read as an allegory, as a symbolic narrative in which the literal subject corresponds to another subject.

In Orwell’s novel, talking animals take control of the farm on which they live. The allegorical meaning the story is based on parallels to Stalinist Russia. The brilliance of great literature, though, is its peculiar relevance to all people in all eras.

Indeed, Orwell’s novel involves a windmill that brings to mind the potential Site C dam, providing an allegory for our times.

After taking control of their farm, the animals, led by clever pigs, consider their own megaproject, a windmill that will “supply the farm with electrical power.” The official justification is grounded in a vision of domestic well-being: the windmill is supposed to light the stalls (or homes), warming the populace in winter.

But the project is controversial: “The whole farm was deeply divided on the subject of the windmill.” The aptly named Snowball, a pig who dreams big, is one of the project’s early advocates.

Snowball is a visionary, a good talker with big ideas, an expert at forming committees. Snowball concedes that construction will be “a difficult business,” involving many logistical problems.

Another community leader opposes the windmill, contending that “food production” is “the great need of the moment.”

The animals become divided into factions, but the dream of the windmill wins out, long after Snowball’s exile, and all of the animals work “like slaves” to turn the vision into a reality: “they grudged no effort or sacrifice,” believing everything they did “was for the benefit of themselves and those of their kind who would come after them . . .”

As the project continues, however, the official goal of domestic well-being gives way to cross-border, capitalistic notions of free trade and commercial profit. Thus, even as the leaders deny their true motives, there is a kind of mission creep that possesses the ideology of a cancer cell: growth at all costs.

“One Sunday morning,” the animals are told that their farm “will engage in trade with the neighbouring farms: not, of course, for any commercial purpose but simply in order to obtain certain materials which were urgently necessary.”

In time, “the needs of the windmill” come to “override everything else.” And, long after its completion, the windmill is never put to its originally stated use: “The windmill . . . had not after all been used for generating electrical power [for the animals themselves]. It was used for milling corn, and brought in a handsome money profit.”

In the moral universe of Orwell’s fiction, the narrator expressly acknowledges that it’s hard to tell pigs from men and men from pigs. As the novel concludes, the animals are “hard at work building yet another windmill.” By this point, development has a momentum of its own, and genuine domestic needs are “no longer [even] talked about.”

George Orwell lived in tyrannical, violent times and was inclined to regard cynicism as the only healthy alternative to fanaticism. In our case, let’s hope that real life turns out better than fiction.

The Many Faces of BC "Hydra"

(Originally published in the Northeast News, February 25, p. 24)

Hydra: Greek mythology. A mythical, nine-headed monster. When a head was struck off, it was replaced by two new ones. The Hydra was eventually slain by Hercules.

The thing about BC Hydro’s Chief Executive Officer, Bob Elton, is that he really gets it. Elton understands that when it comes to energy consumption, we need something akin to a conservation revolution—a dramatic paradigm shift that would actually reverse rising domestic demand for electricity.

I don’t know much about Bob Elton, but I admire his courage. Not your ordinary CEO, he is a Chartered Accountant who also has a Master of Arts degree from Cambridge University, where he studied English literature. Elton has attributed his keen moral awareness to his training as an accountant. Surely, his background in the humanities also helped to shape his social conscience.

The problem is, other elements in BC Hydro’s corporate culture appear inclined to regard steadily increasing demand less critically, as a “requirement” that must be met. This position, in turn, is used to support a purported need for projects like Site C.

The different faces of BC “Hydra” (serious conservation vs. an expansionist agenda ultimately linked to export) are vividly revealed by two BC Hydro graphs that imagine BC’s future energy needs in very different ways.

Figure 1, below, appears as part of a cover letter, signed by Bob Elton, accompanying BC Hydro’s 2007 Conservation Potential Review: Summary Report. In this letter, Bob Elton describes “a visionary approach” that looks at how “electricity demand in British Columbia could be reduced.”

Figure 1

“Our goal,” Elton writes, is to develop and foster a conservation culture in BC that leads to customers choosing to make a dramatic and permanent reduction in electricity [use].” Pursuing this vision, Elton “strongly” believes “we can go beyond” the “conservation target set out by the 2007 BC Energy Plan and lead a change such that in 2027 we would return to 2007 electricity consumption levels while allowing for growth and economic prosperity.”

“In British Columbia,” Elton says, “saving energy must be more than a technical solution. We must also address the issue of wasted electricity. We use more electricity per capita than almost anywhere else in the world.”

According to Elton, “some progressive European communities use 60% less electricity in their homes than comparable communities in BC without compromising quality of life. What seems like an amazing conservation feat is really quite possible. It’s due to efficient lifestyle choices that are rooted in the culture.”

Industry, Elton notes, “can play an important part too. Current world leaders in industrial production are over 40% more efficient than most industries in BC.”

Figure 2, below, also from BC Hydro, imagines a very different future. What you see here is my partial recreation of a demand-supply graph that appears in the Site C Feasibility Review (p. 2). For the purposes of this article, I’ve simply highlighted the demand outlook presented by the Site C team. The steadily rising dotted line indicates a “mid-range demand forecast.”

Figure 2

According to Hydro’s Feasibility Review, “The current forecast for electricity demand indicates that BC’s electricity requirements will grow by between 25 per cent and 45 percent over the next 20 years. . . . While the magnitude of the [supply-demand] gap in any particular year is uncertain, there is a consistent trend of steadily rising demand” (p. 2; emphasis added).

The implied justification for new, large projects like Site C is clear: “the province needs to examine some large projects to meet growing demand . . .” (p. 2). Here, long-term, growing demand is presented as a given, as an unquestioned reality that must be accommodated.

Seen in this way, the Peace River is valued primarily as a potential resource for hydro-electric development, not as an inherently valuable aspect of a fragile ecosystem. It is, in fact, very evident that the recently completed "public consultation" for Site C was largely an exercise in public relations, a multi-million-dollar sales pitch that framed the issues from a pro-development perspective.

Take another look at the two graphs. The difference is remarkable. In Figure 1, we find a way to eliminate unconscionable waste and help save the best place on earth. In Figure 2, that little, wandering, dotted line of increasing demand goes on and on, up and up, seemingly without end. And “that way,” to quote Shakespeare, “madness lies.”

Of course, the difference in the two forecasts is a result of different macro-modeling assumptions. The steadily rising line in Figure 2 reflects the pattern in a “reference case” also described in the 2007 Conservation Potential Review (p. 10). This reference case relies on estimated population and economic growth, but does not factor in “new [demand-side-management] initiatives (pp. 5, 9).

Just as BC Hydro makes choices in deciding how to imagine the future, we too need to make some choices. It's high time to see through expansionist propaganda that will turn BC into an energy farm for California. Let’s embrace the visionary goals of the CEO and choose a path that would help to mitigate the need for massively destructive projects like Site C.

The 2007 Conservation Potential Review: Summary Report (appropriately abbreviated as “CPR”) is available on the web and should be required reading for everyone who cares about “generations” to come.

For a discussion of Hydro's export motives, see the column archive for "BC Hydro Has History of Overbuilding for Export" (Originally published in the Northeast News, Wednesday, September 24, 2008, p. 32).

Dust Has Not Settled for the Tsay Keh Dene People

(Originally published in the Northeast News, February 18, 2009, p. 19)

"Those who control the past control the future."

---George Orwell, 1984.

The experience of the Tsay Keh Dene First Nation is a little-known story that reflects the historical realities of large dams. All of my information comes from scholarly studies in the public domain. In particular, I’ve relied on an outstanding Masters Thesis by Mary Christina Koyl, entitled Cultural Chasm: A 1960s Hydro Development and the Tsay Keh Dene Native Community of Northern British Columbia (UVic, 1992).

The Tsay Keh Dene, like the McLeod Lake Band and Kwadacha First Nation, are Sekani peoples who have lived in the Rocky Mountain Trench since time immemorial.

In the early 1960s, when construction of the Bennett Dam began, several hundred Tsay Keh Dene occupied the Williston flood zone (Koyl, p. 69). Living a semi-traditional way of life, they moved with the seasons and available wildlife, inhabiting villages at places such as Old Ingenika, Fort Grahame, and Finlay Forks (Koyl, pp. 45, 69).

Koyl points out that BC Hydro and federal government officials tried to inform the Tsay Keh about what was happening, but, at the time, no one fully understood how massive the devastation would be. Furthermore, cultural differences negated effective communication (Koyl, pp. 53-56, etc.).

When the flooding began to occur in 1968, Koyl notes, “it was a tremendous shock and left many distressed as they saw their lands disappear (p. 70).

Returning to Fort Grahame from a hunting trip, a group of young men “could not believe what they saw: They stood on the hillsides and stared in disbelief. In the distance, the valley was slowly disappearing beneath a flood of rising water. They hurried to the abandoned Hudson’s Bay Company post at Fort Grahame to find their homes deserted, burned to the ground” (Glavin; as cited by Koyl, p. 26).

According to Koyl, “the band tried to save as much of the wildlife as possible, but once the flood was unleashed, animals drowned even as the band members attempted to rescue them. Elders still remember the stench of rotting moose and other animal carcasses floating on the water’s surface. Around them, the pristine environment had become a living nightmare” (p. 75).

In addition to destroying land, the timber-clogged reservoir formed a physical barrier, impeding communication among First Nations in the area (Koyle, p. 76). For societies whose spiritual and physical survival depends on a close connection to the land, the changes were devastating.

Koyle further notes that band members “were shocked at the element of force [involved in the directive to move]. Some Tsay Keh Dene people had to be physically evacuated from their homes as the water rose around them. As well, no options were presented to the Native community other than to move” (p. 16).

After the old settlement of Fort Grahame was flooded, “some forty or fifty members of the Tsay Keh Dene” were “relocated to so-called ‘model reserves’ near Mackenzie, at the south end of the reservoir.” Life on the new reserves was not good. Unable to pursue their traditional way of life, band members faced alcoholism, despondency, and family violence (Koyl, p. 76).

By the end of 1971, The Tsay Keh Dene had abandoned the southern reserves and returned to an unflooded portion of their traditional territory at Ingenika Point. Things were better temporarily, but the move back to Ingenika brought “a maze of bureaucratic technicalities. Technically, the Band was squatting on provincial crown land” (Koyl, pp. 77-79).

Despite community growth, by the spring of 1986, the band also faced “a serious outbreak of intestinal disease. Health and Welfare Canada identified the cause as high levels of samonella and other [bacterial] diseases.” Among other problems, “there was no potable water or a community water distribution network” at the village (Koyl, p. 106).

In October 1986, Gordon Pierre was elected Chief and the Tsay Keh Dene turned to government, the media, and the judicial system in efforts to address their situation. Over twenty years later, Ella Pierre, Gordon’s cousin, is now the band chief, and the search for justice continues.

The New Relationship Review (Summer 2007), a glossy provincial government brochure, celebrates a new “agreement-in-principle” with the Tsay Keh Dene and Kwadacha First Nation, describing cash settlements and “further commitments” (p. 3). The Kwadacha finalized their agreement in late November 2007. A final agreement has not yet been reached with the Tsay Keh Dene.

Today, the Bennett Dam still impacts the lives of band members. For the resilient people who now live in Tsay Keh village, at the north end of Williston reservoir, dust storms are a major health problem.

In spring, when reservoir water levels are low, strong southeasterly winds raise severe dust storms on the barren flats of the reservoir foreshore, causing thick clouds of silt-sized particles to sweep through the village (Littlefield et al., 2007, pp. 44-46; Baker, Young, & Arocena, 2000, p.565).

Approaching the community at sunset in early June, I saw a thick cloud of dust hovering above the reserve on an otherwise clear evening. The photograph below-left shows dust-monotoring equipment on the flats in front of the village.


Many band members, particularly children and elders, have respiratory and skin problems. Furthermore, debris on the reservoir continues to create a transportation barrier, the water is undrinkable, and the fish, part of the traditional Tsay Keh diet, are contaminated with high levels of mercury and cannot be eaten.

In short, for the Tsay Key Dene, Williston reservoir is “a health hazard” (Littefield et al., p. iii), and no cash compensation can truly redress the hardships they have endured.

BC Hydro has confessed to past mistakes and promised to do things differently this time around, but the fundamental realities of large dams remain the same. The Site C project, if it proceeds, would cause unnecessary, permanent, large-scale environmental destruction and forever disrupt the lives of those who depend on what’s left of the valley. We need the wisdom to say no.

Postcript: 17-year-old Garrett Seymour of the Kwadacha First Nation at Fort Ware has written and narrated a short documentary film about the effect of the Bennett Dam on his people. This film is available on the web, as part of the "Aboriginal Curriculum Integration Project," sponsored by School District 79.

Garrett says "the best kept secret in Canada is how the Bennett Dam came into being." He notes that "the people who built the Bennett Dam never knew we existed at all." To view the video, click on the address below, then scroll down to the bottom of the web page and choose the Mac or Windows "Video" link.

http://www.sd79.bc.ca/programs/abed/ACIP/grade7/socials7_Lessons/human_impacts/human_impacts7.html

Landslide Considerations in the Site C Flood Zone

(Originally published in the Northeast News, February 4, 2008, p. 24)

BC Hydro’s Site C public consultation literature provides some information on landslide risks associated with the formation of the potential reservoir. Hydro’s Feasibility Review offers the most nuanced assessment, stating that “flooding would increase the likelihood of small slides (less than 20,000 cubic metres) along the low bank areas, though the effect on high bank areas would be minimal” (p. 46). This article elaborates on landslide concerns in the Site C flood zone.

Many of the slopes along the Peace River and its tributaries are marginally stable. This is evident from recent, large landslides on the Beatton River, the Halfway River, and on the Peace River itself.

The picture (above-right), courtesy of Diane Culling, shows cutbank erosion along the lower Halfway River.

The most well-known landslide on the Peace River is the Attachie Slide, which occurred on May 26, 1973. In this case, a slope opposite the Halfway River bridge “had been slowly failing by compound sliding for many decades,” if not thousands of years.

“Suddenly, following a period of heavy rain, 7 million cubic metres of the disturbed mass liquefied, descended a bedrock scarp at the foot of the slope and flowed across the kilometre wide floodplain,” completely blocking the Peace River for about six hours (Fletcher; as cited by Hungr et al., 2005, p. 100).

In the language of landslide specialists, “this is an example where [water-softened clay] produced material that is very sensitive in its bulk behaviour” (Fletcher; as cited by Hungr et al, 2005, p. 100).

Geertsema et al. (2006) note that most of the large, soil landslides in BC, such as the Attachie Slide, involve preglacial lake sediments. At Attachie, the failure surface occurred high above the river but deep in the soil sequence.

Other large slides on the Peace River have occurred at Bear Flat and Cache Creek. In fact, almost all of the unconsolidated sediments in the Peace valley can host landslides.
Landslides can also occur in weak shale bedrock below glacial sediments, such as at Taylor, during the bridge collapse in 1957.

In regard to Site C, reservoir formation could play a role in the frequency of landslides because higher surface and ground water levels, seepage, and wave action can contribute to natural instability.

Yet the business of predicting landslides, in the Site C flood zone and elsewhere, is not easy. The slopes along the Peace are probably complex in that there may be both shallow landslides as well as deep-seated landslides lurking behind some of them. In many cases, movement will be slow. In the case of the Attachie Slide, rapid movement created a large displacement wave (Hungr et al., 2005, p. 100).

The most famous example of a reservoir landslide causing a large displacement wave occurred in the Italian Alps, at Vaiont, Italy, in 1963. As the reservoir behind the enormous Vaiont Dam was being filled, a block of approximately 270 million cubic metres detached from one wall and slid into the lake at velocities reaching 110 kmh. The resultant wave over-topped the dam by 250 metres and swept into the valley below, destroying villages and killing approximately 2,500 people.

While BC Hydro’s Round 1 Feedback Form discusses risk zones for landslide-generated displacement waves (pp. 11-12), there is no mention of how big the waves might be, the anticipated consequences, or whether they could affect the integrity of the Site C dam.

Responding to questions on the subject, BC Hydro notes that it has “carefully considered” the issue of landslide-generated waves, using "physical hydraulic modelling [for] various known landslide areas along the Peace River.”

“The characteristics of landslide generated waves,” BC Hydro observes, depend on “many different variables. Specifically, the volume, thickness, and velocity of the landslide, the topography and slope of the slide, the mechanism of failure (deep seated slides vs. shallow slides), and the [underwater depth] and shape of the reservoir are all important factors [that] may affect the resulting landslide-generated wave height. Wave heights also tend to decrease with distance travelled by the wave.”

BC Hydro also states that “by far the majority of the slides in the Peace valley have been too slow and/or too small to generate significant waves. Model testing was directed towards the much less frequent, larger, faster slides such as the Attachie slide.”

Drawing on existing studies, BC Hydro further states that “the current design of the potential Site C Dam has the required freeboard (vertical distance between the top of the reservoir and the dam crest) to accommodate the risk of landslide generated waves.”

Currently, BC Hydro is using “international standards and best practices” to update historical estimates of landslide generated waves in the Site C flood zone. This work will continue if the project proceeds to Stage 3.

In regard to displacement waves, it should also be noted that something Site C has in its favour, compared to other reservoirs, is the relatively low relief of the valley, which means less energy and momentum transfer for potential slides.

To summarize, concerns about landslides in the Site C flood zone deserve serious consideration and involve some of the most complex technical questions associated with the potential project. BC Hydro’s general message to the public, as I understand it, is that “the potential Site C reservoir would have little effect on the frequency of landslides or sloughing other than during the development of beaches at the new water level” (Feedback Form for Round 1 Project Definition, May/June 2008, p. 10). Hydro’s consultation literature also stresses that careful study will continue.

Local First Nations Have a Key Role in the Future of Site C

(Originally published in the Northeast News, January 28, 2009, p. 24)

For more than 10,000 years, the Peace River valley has held great significance for the Dane-zaa people, whose traditional values and way of life are closely linked to river systems. The Peace River was the first “highway” in this region and is one of the richest areas for archaeological recovery in all of British Columbia.

Today, the Dane-zaa and Cree communities of Treaty 8 participate in resource development and are working to build the prosperity that has come with it. The First Nations of Treaty 8 also recognize the need to pursue ecologically sustainable development (Northeast News, March 19, 2007, p. 5).

Seeking this critical balance, some First Nations representatives have historically voiced opposition to Site C. Such opposition was clearly expressed at a First Nations meeting held in Fort St. John on November 3, 2005, as part of the consultation process associated with the 2006 Provincial Integrated Electricity Plan.

At the November 3 meeting, First Nations participants “made it clear that they [were] adamantly against the development of Site C.” Participants noted that they have “significant historical grievances” related to the “original impacts” of the Bennett and Peace Canyon dams” and that they still “experience impacts from the operation of these dams” (BC Hydro’s “Final Meeting Notes,” available on the web).

More recently, a 2007 resolution passed by the Assembly of Treaty Chiefs for Treaties 6, 7, and 8 (Alberta) acknowledges “ongoing opposition of First Nations governments to further development of hydroelectric dams within the Peace River watershed” (Resolution 26-10-2007/#004R).

Currently, six western Treaty 8 First Nations (Fort Nelson, Prophet River, Halfway River, Doig River, Saulteau, and West Moberly First Nations) continue to review the impacts of the Bennett and Peace Canyon dams as they begin to assess possible impacts from the potential Site C dam while participating in BC Hydro’s First Nations consultation process.

Given recent decisions by the Supreme Court of Canada, the province is bound by a legal duty to consult with and accommodate Aboriginal groups that could be affected by land and resource development. Procedural aspects of this consultation process can be delegated to the project proponent.

The key judgements in this respect are Haida Nation v. British Columbia
and Taku River Tlingit First Nation v. British Columbia (2004).

Summarizing the legal situation, Rosanne M. Kyle, an Aboriginal law specialist with Miller Thomson, explains that “the extent of the duty to consult will depend upon the circumstances of the case. The [Supreme] Court was clear in stating that the duty to consult does not provide First Nations with a veto right.” Thus, as a general rule, “government is not required to obtain Aboriginal consent to a project before it approves it” (“The Duty to Consult,” Aboriginal Law Update, 2005; available on the web).

In Delgamuukw v. British Columbia (1997), however, the Supreme Court indicated that “Some cases may even require the full consent of an Aboriginal nation, particularly when provinces enact hunting and fishing regulations in relation to Aboriginal lands.” It is an open question whether the Court would consider the potential impacts from a project the size of Site C as comparable to impacts caused by hunting and fishing regulations affecting Aboriginal lands.

Practically speaking, obtaining Aboriginal consent in development situations may figure more as a matter of respectful, good business practice. There is a growing realization that long-term project success is enhanced when Aboriginal consent is secured, and project authorities have increasingly sought mutually desirable business agreements as a means of securing acceptance.

In my view, obtaining Aboriginal consent could also be regarded as a moral issue. In the spirit of Article 32(2) of the United Nations Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples, Resolution No. 43 of the recent Annual General Assembly of First Nations (2008) calls, in part, on the governments of Canada and British Columbia to “Refrain from any development of the Site C dam” without both consultation and “the free, prior and informed consent of the West Moberly First Nation and other affected BC Treaty 8 First Nations.”

Closer to home, in 2006, BC Hydro’s Integrated Electricity Plan Committee advised that “support from local people (First Nations and others)” should be “a prerequisite” for “starting investigations into this project” (2006 IEP Stakeholder Engagement Report, pp. 144-145).

While legal, financial, and ethical considerations relating to First Nations and hydroelectric development are still evolving, it is clear that Aboriginal people have a critical role to play in the future of projects like the potential Site C dam. Treaty 8 First Nations are “rightholders” in the Peace valley, and they regard the current dialogue with BC Hydro as an opportunity to engage in respectful, meaningful discussions about Site C.

Film Offers Lessons for All Dam-Building Nations

(Originally published in the Northeast News, Wednesday, January 7, 2009)

Up the Yangtze (2007), a feature-length documentary film by Canadian filmmaker Yung Chang, explores the social consequences of China’s Three Gorges Dam, the largest hydroelectric project in the world.

Upstream of the dam, the Yangtze River flows through three steep and spectacular gorges collectively known as the “Sanxia,” from which the project takes its name.

Yung Chang is primarily concerned about the human dimensions of such an undertaking. His film is long, somber, and subdued, but, as the creeping water of the reservoir slowly and relentlessly rises, we witness a poignant depiction of large dams as silent killers. Amid the benign rhetoric of nation-building, we learn that large dams destroy people’s lives, that families and individuals matter.

Web discussions align Chang’s work with rich traditions in literature and cinema, characterizing the documentary as a “surreal journey” into a “heart of darkness.” The narrow ship locks in which the film begins and ends have been likened to the gates of hell.


Fellow passengers on one of China’s “farewell cruises,” we travel downriver toward the dam, through the cradle of ancient Chinese civilization, glimpsing forgotten temples and deserted cities in “a strange landscape of chaos and decay.” Mist and rain are everywhere.

The journey opens with a quotation from Confucius: “By three methods we may learn wisdom: first, by reflection which is noblest; second, by imitation which is easiest; and third, by experience which is the bitterest.”

Yu Shui and her family are at the centre of the film. Shui is a sixteen-year-old girl who wants to continue her education, but her parents are among the millions of farmers displaced by the reservoir and cannot afford to send their daughter to school. Ironically, Yu Shui must take a job below-decks on one of the cruise ships, where, cleaning dishes for American tourists, she is renamed “Cindy.”

Chen Bo Yu (renamed “Jerry”) comes from a middle-class family and also goes to work on the cruise boat. He is “tall and good-looking,” “spoiled and cocky.” Because he knows English, Bo Yu has a favoured position as baggage boy and lounge singer, but his all-important career aspirations are thwarted when he is fired for being too conceited.

And what is progress? Campbell, a Chinese tour guide who is fluent in English, tells the story of an American leader and a Chinese leader, both of whom are riding in the back of a limousine, on the road of life. They come to a fork in the road. The American leader says “turn right.” The Chinese leader also says “turn right, but keep the left indicator on.”

Rather than pursuing a socialist vision of equality, Yung Chang’s China is building a society of haves and have-nots, a world in which Chen Bo Yu’s notion of success is measured by neon dreams of Vegas-like materialism.

Meanwhile, those pudgy, middle-aged American tourists are passive spectators and consumers, complicit with the whole enterprise.

Perhaps the most compelling scenes in the film occur near the end, as the latter-day love boat approaches the great Three Gorges Dam and Yu Shui’s impoverished parents show up for a visit. Speaking in English, the dam official insults Yu Shui’s father, telling the camera that this farmer is “suspicious of the government” and, like most farmers, “really knows nothing about the dam.”

But Yu Shui’s father remains a sympathetic character, a humble man who seeks a simple, healthy, happy life for his family. As the creeping waters of the reservoir submerge the makeshift family home on the lower banks of the river, Yu Shui’s father carries the family possessions on his back, up the steep slope of the reservoir, to an uncertain life in the city, where the family must buy food rather than grow their own.

Ultimately, Yung Chang’s story of the Three Gorges Dam can tell us something about our own world. In many ways, perhaps, modern China has become our shadow self, an example of unsustainable development writ large. In entertaining the destructiveness of projects like Site C, we, too, may be headed for trouble.

According to Yung Chang, “All serious studies show that mega-dams like the Three Gorges ultimately have greater negative effects than positive. . . . The growing consensus is that [large dams] simply don’t work in the long run. They cause terrible damage to the environment and destroy the livelihoods of local people.”

Up the Yangtze (available at local video stores and libraries) is well worth seeing, but watch for a coming attraction. Karl Mattson’s Keeping the Peace, due out soon, is a homegrown masterpiece that will become a landmark event in the public awareness of Site C. More on Mattson’s film in a coming article.

Other Hydroelectric Jurisdictions Show Better Ways of Doing Business

(Originally published in the Northeast News, December 3, 2008, p. 22)


Best-practice principles for stakeholder engagement in hydroelectric development offer more than purely theoretical, pie-in-the-sky dreams of how things could be. There are precedents for the application of such principles, both within Canada and elsewhere in the world.

The best-practice model discussed here in recent weeks recognizes the importance of public participation in screening specific projects such as the potential Site C dam. Such screening should occur early in the planning process and should involve stakeholders in a comprehensive dialogue on matters related to project justification and acceptability.

In particular, gaining the support of project-affected communities and individuals has become a key consideration. The new model moves from mere “consultation” to genuine “collaboration,” and calls on project authorities to recognize that alternatives to dams often do exist.


Studies emerging from the World Commission on Dams (WCD) point to Hydro-Quebec as a public utility that has made “pioneering” reforms in the way it does business, becoming a leader in progressive approaches to stakeholder involvement (Thayer Scudder, The Future of Large Dams, 2006, pp. 200, 204-210).

In the aftermath of the public relations nightmare that occurred during the first stages of the James Bay Project during the 70s and 80s, Hydro-Quebec’s 1998-2002 strategic plan adopted a “Triple Bottom Line” for dam development, stating that “community agreement had to be secured, projects had to be economically feasible, and projects had to be environmentally acceptable.”

Under Hydro-Quebec’s strategic plan, “the normal cycle of preparing project studies to confirm environmental and technical feasibility was commenced only for those sites where community acceptance had been reached” (Stakeholder Involvement sourcebook, 2003, pp. 107-108, 133).

This marks a significant departure from the traditional, proponent-driven practice that we’re seeing with Site C, where economic and environmental studies have been undertaken without any formal mechanism for securing community consent. In fact, as noted in previous articles, BC Hydro has essentially removed foundational questions about project acceptability from the current round of so-called consultation.

Another case of exemplary collaboration occurred in Botswana, Africa. During the late 1980s, the government began planning a network of dams that were intended to increase food production through irrigation and improved flood recession along the Okavango River, one of the most magnificent wetlands in the world. Like the James Bay project, this one started badly.

Scudder notes that “members of the responsible ministry became project ‘boosters’ to the extent that they stigmatized the critics and refused to acknowledge project defects or consider alternatives” (The Future of Large Dams, p. 200).

The outcry from non-governmental organizations (NGOs) and local villagers was both immediate and intense. In response, the Botswanan government took the brave step of inviting an external, international agency to evaluate the project. The external report found that the project was flawed in many ways, and the government decided to cancel the proposed development.

Furthermore, based on the external evaluation, the Botswanan government declared the Okavango wetlands “the world’s largest Ramsar [i.e., protected] site—a decision that makes the initiation of future large-scale infrastructure projects in the delta more difficult” (The Future of Large Dams, pp. 200-204).

But the grass isn’t always greener on the other side. In the volatile world of hydroelectric development, misunderstandings and disagreements often come with the territory. And development pressures around the world, in places as diverse as Quebec and Botswana, mean that there are few guarantees.

Once planned, Scudder observes, dam projects “are like vampires in their ability to rise from the dead, [so] local populations must remain ever vigilant” (The Future of Large Dams, p. 199).

Closer to home, BC Hydro has been recognized for a progressive approach to stakeholder engagement in its Water Use Plans (WUPs). The World Bank’s Stakeholder Involvement sourcebook cites a prototype WUP exercise during the late 1990s, when a multi-stakeholder Consultative Committee was struck to develop a water use plan that would guide operation of the newly renovated power station at the Stave Falls dam (pp. 187-196).

In cases such as this, though, the stakes are considerably lower because public participation is limited to “within-project” alternatives, where hydroelectric facilities are already in place. When the stakes are higher, as in the case of moving ahead with Site C, BC Hydro has actually stifled stakeholder engagement with project acceptability, particularly within project-affected communities, where concern is the most intense.

Interestingly, the Site C Feasibility Review (December 2007) does refer to the proposed establishment of “multi-party consultative committees” that would include, among others, “First Nations and interested stakeholders” (Section 7, p. 60). Yet this proposed component of the consultation process is underdeveloped and fails to represent the concerns of the many “interested stakeholders” who attended the last Open House in Fort St. John.

To summarize, the proponent-driven, top-down version of consultation that we’re seeing today, in regard to Site C, does not reflect internationally recognized best-practice principles of stakeholder involvement, creating a profound sense of procedural injustice. Sadly, the process further indicates that BC Hydro has retained much of the arrogance that typified its approach to hydroelectric development from the 1960s to the 1980s.

Let’s hope it’s still possible to teach an old dog new tricks.

Project-Specific Consultation on Site C Deeply Flawed

(Originally published in the Northeast News, November 26, 2008, p. 30)

As noted last week, public participation in screening specific projects, such as the potential Site C dam, is now an important aspect of best-practices in hydroelectric development. Such screening should occur early or “upstream” in the planning process; should include key stakeholders in project-affected communities; and should involve a comprehensive dialogue on matters related to project justification and acceptability.

While ultimate decision-making authority typically remains with governments, the most progressive approaches to public participation reach beyond mere “consultation” to genuine “collaboration,” meaning that the consent of affected communities becomes an important consideration.

Looking at recent history, valuable public discussion of Site C occurred within the larger context of the 2006 Integrated Electricity Plan (IEP). During the IEP process, Site C proved to be very controversial, and a stakeholder advisory committee stated that “support from local people (First Nations and others)” should be “a prerequisite” for “starting investigations into this project” (2006 IEP Stakeholder Engagement Report, pp. 144-145).

Since then, however, BC Hydro’s handling of Site C has both evaded and marginalized public involvement in the fundamental issue of project acceptability, creating deep resentment.

During “Stage One” of the current project-specific investigation, BC Hydro reviewed the feasibility of Site C. At this point, key considerations included the following questions: (1) “Have any project characteristics been identified to date that suggest Site C should not be considered further as a resource option?” (2) “Does Site C appear to offer sufficient overall benefits relative to the alternatives to justify further investigation?”

These are precisely the kind of fundamental questions that deserve meaningful stakeholder engagement. However, BC Hydro acknowledges that “the preliminary analysis was conducted primarily as a desk-based exercise using information and materials available internally” (Feasibility Review, pp. 1-3).

Thus, BC Hydro lost (or avoided) an opportunity to follow through on the best-practice model described above. Indeed, the review of Site C was an insular process driven by the pro-construction bias of the project authority. Given this situation, it is almost humorous to encounter BC Hydro’s conclusion: “BC Hydro recommends moving to Stage Two” (Feasibility Review, p. i).

No kidding. Asking my beloved grandmother whether The Lawrence Welk Show should be recommended viewing would elicit an equally predictable conclusion.

“Stage Two” of the Site C consultation process began with what Hydro called “preconsultation.” The stated purpose of the preconsultation meetings was to gather feedback that would be used to establish a framework for forthcoming discussions. People were asked “how” and “on what” they wished to be consulted.

BC Hydro’s Pre-Consultation Summary Report indicates that respondents expressed considerable interest in discussing alternative projects (bar graph, p. iv).

In response to a question about potential “community benefits,” a relatively large number of respondents stated that they were “opposed to Site C” and saw “no benefit” (bar graph, p. vi). Yet the summary comments that immediately follow the graph ignore such opposition while emphasizing more favourable responses. This is indicative of Hydro’s larger tendency to push project acceptability beyond the scope of the discussion.

Clearly, pre-consultation feedback indicated that project justification was a key concern among a significant number of stakeholders, presenting BC Hydro with another opportunity to foster public engagement in comprehensive, project-specific options assessment.

Instead, BC Hydro proceeded with its own agenda by focusing on “Project Definition” in the next phase of Stage Two consultation. The problem here is that Project Definition focuses on “within project” alternatives--on refining design elements related to construction.

In some respects, therefore, preconsultation was a hollow exercise. The many voices that called for a serious discussion of project justification and acceptability have had no meaningful influence in shaping the consultation process.

In an apparent attempt to redress the error of its ways, BC Hydro has rolled a little more commentary on strategic options assessment into the latest round of Project Definition meetings, but the gesture is too superficial--too transparently influenced by BC Hydro’s own project boosterism. In a cursory overview of alternative forms of power, Hydro officials tend to emphasize the purported shortcomings of everything but hydropower—before carrying on with Project Definition.

Accordingly, at all three of the October 2008 consultation meetings in Fort St. John, there was an obvious disconnection between the kind of questions coming from the floor (many of which dealt with project acceptability) and BC Hydro’s own sense of priorities.

Make no mistake: people have good reason to be frustrated. While Hydro repeatedly says that no decision has been made to build the dam, that very deferral has become part of the problem, enabling BC Hydro and the provincial government to deflect ongoing concerns about project acceptability while simultaneously moving toward the critical decision to proceed.

Put simply, we’re told that no decision has been made to build the dam, but, at the same time, project-specific consultation has essentially bypassed public discussion about whether to proceed.

There’s a better, braver, more ethical way of doing business—one that promotes a sense of procedural fairness, particularly among project-affected communities. Next week’s article will discuss situations in which hydroelectric utilities have adhered to best practices and done the right thing.

2006 IEP Upheld Best Practices for Stakeholder Engagement

(Originally published in the Northeast News, November 19, 2008, p. 30)

A previous article in this column (“Manufacturing Consent,” Northeast News, July 2, 2008) was critical of BC Hydro’s Site C consultation process. Here, I return to the theme of public consultation, measuring BC Hydro’s conduct against a core principle of contemporary best-practices.

That core principle is evident throughout a 300-page report commissioned by the World Bank and published in July 2003, entitled Stakeholder Involvement in Options Assessment: Promoting Dialogue in Meeting Water and Energy Needs .

This state-of-the-art report, a self-described “sourcebook” for energy managers, observes that public participation in “screening” specific projects is now an international trend in hydroelectric development (p. 4). Such screening should occur early in planning processes; should include key stakeholders in project-affected communities; and should involve a detailed, comprehensive consideration of matters bearing on project justification and acceptability.

The report further acknowledges that while ultimate decision-making authority typically resides with governments (p. 14), early stakeholder involvement in a thorough examination of project acceptability opens the decision-making process, promoting a sense of “procedural justice” (p. 18).

In other accounts of best-practice management, the principle at issue here is described as stakeholder engagement in project-specific, “comprehensive options assessment” (Thayer Scudder, The Future of Large Dams, 2005, p. 309).

Focusing on recent history, BC Hydro’s efforts to engage stakeholders in discussions about the acceptability of Site C date back to preliminary work on the province’s 2006 Integrated Electricity Plan (IEP).

The overarching objective of IEP procedures is to identify and continually update a preferred, long-term portfolio for the acquisition of resource options. In 2005, BC Hydro developed an initial First Nations and Stakeholder Engagement Plan , establishing a framework for dialogue within the 2006 IEP.

To BC Hydro’s credit, the 2005 Engagement Plan (which underwent minor revisions in 2006) is a model document that clearly reflects elements of the best-practice standard described above. The plan calls for various “engagement streams,” including an IEP Committee consisting of approximately fifteen members (plus alternates) representing various interests throughout the province.

Good opportunities for a deep dialogue on the acceptability of Site C occurred within the IEP Committee meetings. After interviewing five members of the committee and reviewing the 2006 IEP First Nations and Stakeholders Engagement Report (available on request), I believe that within the context of high-level planning, BC Hydro effectively facilitated meaningful, preliminary discussion of Site C as a potential resource option.

At the end of the day, however, the IEP Committee did not reach consensus on the acceptability of Site C. Nor did it reach consensus on “one resource strategy that was acceptable to all members.” There were varying degrees of support for four different scenarios: two involved Site C; two did not (see chart below):

____________________________________________________________

Strategy 1

• Self-Sufficiency: A small buffer, for insurance
• Resource Mix: Green
• Demand-Side Management: Power Smart 5
• Site C: No
• Burrard Thermal Plant: Retire

Strategy 2

• Self-Sufficiency: A small buffer, for insurance
• Resource Mix: [Mostly] green
• Demand-Side Management: Power Smart 5
• Site C: Yes
• Burrard Thermal Plant: Maintain for capacity

Strategy 3

• Self-Sufficiency: A small buffer, for insurance
• Resource Mix: Low cost mix, including green, coal, and others
• Demand-Side Management: Power Smart 5
• Site C: No
• Burrard Thermal Plant: Maintain for capacity

Strategy 4

• Self-Sufficiency: A small buffer, for insurance
• Resource Mix: Low cost mix, including green, coal, and others
• Demand-Side Management: Power Smart 5
• Site C: Yes
• Burrard Thermal Plant: Maintain for capacity

____________________________________________________________

As part of the 2006 IEP process, public meetings were also held throughout the province, to gather broader stakeholder input on resource options. Two public meetings were held in Fort St. John. Notes from the March 1, 2005 meeting, in particular, reveal “strong opposition” to Site C.

In sum, while BC Hydro’s last IEP effectively engaged stakeholders on a broad range of energy considerations, many issues, including Site C, were contentious. This is not the fault of the IEP process; instead, disagreements reflect the many complexities and values involved in energy planning.

The preceding overview of the IEP process leads to a critical question: what should BC Hydro’s stakeholder engagement plan for Site C have looked like after the 2006 IEP?

In keeping with best-practice principles and case studies described in the Stakeholder Involvement sourcebook (p. 107, etc.), I believe that BC Hydro should have continued to facilitate detailed discussions about the acceptability of Site C as a resource option, particularly in the northeast region where opposition to Site C is the strongest. This position reflects conclusions of the IEP Committee, which also identified local support as a key component of Site C’s acceptability (Stakeholder Engagement Report, pp. 137, 144-145).

If BC Hydro had maintained the original two-year planning cycle for IEPs, perhaps comprehensive options assessment of Site C could have continued in a new round of committee meetings with enhanced regional representation or involvement.

In the absence of a renewed and comprehensive IEP process, the primary opportunities for stakeholder engagement on Site C have fallen to the recently initiated Site C consultation program. Unfortunately, it is here where stakeholder engagement with options assessment has been severely compromised. The next article will elaborate on the flawed nature of the project-specific consultation now underway.

Dam Would Jeopardize Successful Ranch

(Originally published in the Northeast News, November 4, 2008, p. 39)

Renee Ardill runs a family ranch that stretches along the north banks of the Peace River valley, between the Halfway River and Farrell Creek. This portion of the valley is well-suited to the Ardills’ enterprise, but their business and way of life would be severely impacted if Site C proceeds.

The Ardill ranch has been in the family for three generations. Renee’s grandparents, Jack and Betty Ardill, came to Hudson’s Hope in 1919. As a World War I veteran, Jack was eligible for a soldier’s land grant in addition to a homestead, so in 1920 he and Betty moved out to the valley.

They began with 320 acres and slowly expanded. Eventually, Renee’s parents, Dick and Irene Ardill, inherited the operation. Dick and Irene still live on the ranch and are actively involved in the daily work. The ranch is also home to Renee’s brother, Don, and to her aunt, Betty Holoboff.

Today, the Ardill operation has about 350 head of cows. Renee and her family cultivate the rich bottom lands close to the river, raising hay and grain for feed. They use the high breaks as rangeland. It’s rough country and in wet years the cows have trouble accessing some meadows, but Renee says that the rolling hills above the Peace River provide “outstanding natural rangeland.”

The Ardills’ existence is shaped by the seasonal rhythms of ranch life. In the fall, most of the cows come down on their own, and there is a cattle drive to gather up the rest. It’s an event. Family and friends saddle up, participating in a time-honoured ranching tradition. This year’s cattle drive occurred just several weeks ago, in mid-October.

The cows winter in the low-lying fields, where there’s lots of feed. Calving usually starts in late March and runs through May. By the end of May, most of the stock is back up on the rangeland.

When asked about her position on Site C, Renee characterizes it as a “ridiculous project”— not simply because she lives in the flood zone, but for many other reasons: the instability of the riverbanks, the cost of re-routing a newly paved highway, the long-term value of the agricultural land, detrimental effects on wildlife, and the loss of recreational opportunities associated with a unique riverine ecosystem.

“All things considered,” she says, “the trade-offs are too big. Even if we need more electricity, [another large dam on the Peace River] is not the only way.”

As a long-time resident, Renee has firsthand knowledge of just how unstable the riverbanks can be. On May 26, 1973, she witnessed the immediate after-effects of the Attachie Slide, near the Halfway floodplain.

Renee was in town that day. During the evening, she drove back out to the valley with a friend. Preparing to descend the Halfway hill, they looked down and were astonished to see that the riverbed was dry. The Attachie Slide did, indeed, block the flow of the Peace River for about ten hours.

Academic studies help to convey the magnitude of that event. Oldrich Hungr notes that a “slope of clay and silt failed suddenly after a heavy rainstorm. Seven million cubic metres of the disturbed mass liquefied, then descended a bedrock scarp . . . and flowed across the kilometer-wide floodplain of the Peace River with enough speed to raise a violent wave on the opposite shore” (from Landslide Risk Management, 2005, p. 100).

There is a common perception that soil disturbance caused by the creation of a Site C reservoir would increase the possibility of future slides, and BC Hydro has acknowledged bank stability as a concern. According to BC Hydro, however, “the effect on high bank areas would be minimal” (see, for example, Feasibility Review, p. 6-46).

Commenting on the Site C stakeholder meetings, Renee Ardill voices a familiar criticism: “The meetings are designed to direct you to think favourably about Site C. We need to talk more openly and honestly about the pros and cons of the dam.”

The full impact of Site C on the Ardill Ranch is hard to determine: “No one knows how much land would be lost to bank erosion and the relocation of the highway,” Renee observes. “The new water level would be about halfway between the current river level and the ranch buildings, flooding the lowest fields and making the natural springs inaccessible.”

Reflecting on the whole situation, Renee is determined to carry on: “Talk about Site C has been going on most of my life. I’ve listened to all this before and watched the effect on my dad and uncle--the concern, the worry, and the uncertainty. We’ve already lost a lot of valuable time.” Renee says that she’s going to move forward and continue working to make the ranch a success.

It’s hard not to admire that kind of resolve. If we resign ourselves to Site C, we lose more than a river valley. We also lose part of our heritage.