Environmental Activism

April 2006

Environmental and political activist and author Chip Ward struck a chord with humanists as he spoke about his work keeping the Great Basin Desert from becoming a nuclear waste dump. A resident of Grantsville, Ward believes that because Tooele County has for years been trading environmental quality for jobs, revenues, and profits, many people are now sick.

Ward recalls going to a public hearing ten years ago about a plan to build toxic waste incinerators on Utah's West Desert. At the hearing, an industry expert hired by the corporations who build incinerators said the emissions from hazardous waste facilities would be so safe and legal that people could eat it spread on their breakfast cereal.

Such a statement seemed to reassure many in the audience, but Ward was left with the urge to run home to examine his breakfast cereal. His alarm increased when a Greenpeace activist there said if we lived downwind from toxic waste incinerators, we would give birth to two-headed babies and die. New to such issues, Ward found the conflicting testimonies confusing and alarming. As he walked out the door that evening, he said to a neighbor, "Let me see if I got that right--we're going to eat breakfast cereal for two-headed babies."

After the hearing, Ward decided to do his own research and discovered that each side of the debate had convincing evidence and experts to support their arguments. As citizens, people are supposed to process that information and be the ultimate arbiters of its credibility and integrity. That, Ward realized, was why politics has become an information war.

Before Grantsville, Ward and his wife worked in Capitol Reef National Park where they took responsibility for their own water source and growing their own food; this taught him that people are really what they eat, drink and breathe, and that the collective decisions made about what to allow into the air, water, soil, and food get translated into flesh and blood.

As a result of this intimate experience, Ward was able to extrapolate that for people who live near incinerators, chemical industry facilities, and toxic or radioactive wastes, their own bodies will eventually be affected. Ward learned that environmental laws and policies are not precautionary, and so are not wise. Aside from a reckless orientation, those laws and policies are interpreted and enforced in a political arena where increasing numbers of citizens are turned away or turned off. And when citizens do not get involved, the situation worsens.

Reluctant at first to get involved himself, Ward tells how he and a neighbor gathered signatures on a petition for improved air monitoring, a modest attempt to introduce some accountability and consensus. Hoping for 50 signatures, they obtained 500--because so many were worried about cancer and the chronic illnesses plaguing their community.

Ward admits to having a difficult time sorting out the information because he realized that the nature of consciousness and perception is we see what we look for, so he was wary of jumping to conclusions. Then one revelatory Saturday morning as he was reading and drinking his coffee on the front porch, Ward realized that from where he sat, he could point to three homes where children were in wheel chairs, to a home where a child had been born with one kidney, to a house where another child had Spina Bifida, to a home where a child had recently died from leukemia, and to two homes where mothers in their early thirties had just died of cancer. Ward recounts how all his alarms went off, and he asked himself, "Have I moved my children into harm's way?" Precaution compels action before conclusion.

Although politics appear disguised as laws, policies, campaigns, budgets, and rhetoric, Ward says they are really about how we live and die. In his book, Canaries on the Rim, Ward captures the story of his activist quest to address the ongoing controversies over the use of the West Desert as an enabler for some very toxic collective behaviors.

As an aside, Ward explains that the "canaries" in the title is a metaphor and a reference to the coal mine canaries that were kept to warn miners about poisonous fumes in the air, something which he has had to point out to the local Barnes & Noble stores because they insist on restocking his book in the bird guide section next to manuals on parakeet care.

Continuing on, Ward admonishes that if we want to have an interesting life and meet compelling people, we should get involved. As we go about our daily lives, we are constantly given the choice to avoid or embrace our responsibilities as citizens. When we avoid the challenges of creating viable and healthy communities, the consequences are often dire while embracing those challenges, we create hope. In a personal testimony, Ward states that passionate commitment is not a burden but a blessing, and that when people practice their heartfelt convictions, he believes life becomes richer, deeper, and more meaningful.

--Sarah Smith