July 9, 2010 | Scientific American
By Joel Kirkland and ClimateWire:
Concerns Spread over 
Environmental Costs of Producing Shale Gas
The extent to which utilities will burn natural gas to slash carbon dioxide emissions tied to global warming is a national issue. But on the ground, where it's being produced, the issues become very local.
By Joel 
Kirkland and ClimateWire 
Pa., a geyser of natural gas 
and sludge began shooting out of a well called Punxsutawney Hunting Club 36. The 
toxic stew of gas, salt water, mud and chemicals went 75 feet into the air for 
16 hours. Some of this mess seeped into a stream northeast of 
Pittsburgh.
Four days later, as authorities were cleaning up the debris 
in Pennsylvania, an explosion burned seven workers at a gas well on the site of 
an abandoned coal mine outside of Moundsville, W.Va., just southwest of 
Pittsburgh.
The back-to-back emergencies were like a five-alarm fire for 
John Hanger, secretary of the Pennsylvania Department of Environmental 
Protection. For a brief moment, the cable news channels turned their attention 
away from the BP PLC oil gusher in the Gulf of Mexico to the apparent trouble in 
the nation's expanding onshore natur al gas fields.
The events added force to a tough 
public debate in Pennsylvania and New York and across northern Appalachia about 
how the environmental impacts of gas drilling balance against the economic 
benefits of gas and the role it could play in helping electric utilities 
transition to cleaner fuels.
When used to fire up a power plant, natural 
gas produces less air pollutants and half of the greenhouse gas emissions 
produced by conventional coal plants. But extracting the gas from deep 
sedimentary rock and shipping it to consumers is an industrial process. It 
requires massive amounts of water and reliable cement and pipe jobs. It also has 
wastewater-disposal issues and generates air pollution.
"This is a test 
for people in public life," Hanger says. "Do you get into public service to 
treat the gas industry fairly and protect our resources, or not? You don't have 
to choose between producing the gas and protecting our water."
The extent 
to w hich U.S. utilities will burn natural gas to slash carbon dioxide emissions 
tied to global warming is a national issue. But on the ground, where it's being 
produced, all politics is very local.
Regulators 'over their heads and 
drowning'?
Hanger is a contentious figure in 
Pennsylvania. He personifies the state's willingness, or lack thereof, to police 
drillers operating in the Marcellus Shale natural gas basin under Pennsylvania. 
At public forums where residents bring their environmental concerns, Hanger's 
name and the administration of Pennsylvania Gov. Ed Rendell (D) attract a mixed 
bag of praise and frustration.
"They need to admit that they're over 
their heads and drowning," says Jon Bogle, founder of the Responsible Drilling 
Alliance, a citizens group in northeastern Pennsylvania, the epicenter of 
Marcellus drilling activity so far t his year. "They are trying. They've 
toughened their position. They just don't have the personnel to do the 
job."
To some residents, Hanger has shown in recent months he's serious 
about getting compliance from drillers by fining companies and forcing them to 
plug poorly constructed wells. To others, development is rapidly outpacing 
environmental safeguards. The geyser in Clearfield County, the fire in West 
Virginia and high-profile cases of groundwater contamination in Dimock, Pa., 
underscore their belief that regulators in the Northeast have been outmanned and 
outmaneuvered by a powerful industry imported from the friendlier confines of 
Fort Worth, Texas.
"We're not running a see-no-evil, hear-no-evil 
regulatory apparatus here," Hanger responds. "We're working on rules and 
regulations that should have been addressed a decade 
ago."
A 
hangover from the impacts of coal mining
Pennsylvania'
"One of the greatest 
challenges is convincing people that we are not the second coming of coal," says 
Matt Pitzarella, spokesman for gas producer Range Resources.
Coal informs 
discussions about the gas rigs and leases cut into the forests and farmland. And 
the recent flurry of environmental disasters in oil and coal fields has fueled 
fears about the impact the gas boom will have on aquifers, fragile ecosystems 
and public health.
BP's Gulf disaster stiffened the resolve of 
environmental groups in Pennsylvania and New York to challenge industry 
guarantees about the safety of modern hydraulic fracturing ("fracking") 
technology used to crack deep deposits of gas-rich shale rock.
The 
collapsed coal-ash containment pond at the Tennessee Valley Authority power 
plant in Kingston, Tenn., raised questions about leaks at similar waste pits 
located on gas drilling sites. And the explosion in April that killed 29 people 
at the Upper Big Branch coal mine in West Virginia offered a bleak reminder of 
the dangers of this kind of work.
Gas producers maintain that the use of 
horizontal drills to extract gas from under neighboring plots 
means drillers require less land for well pads and equipment. They argue that 
chemicals pumped into the ground are benign, aquifers are protected by steel and concrete, drilling requires less water 
than nuclear power or a coal-fired power plant, and companies can dispose of 
salt water without poisoning streams.
The hotbed of environmental protest 
about the potential impact of drilling is in New York, where the source of New 
York City's drinking water is the Catskill Mountains and Delaware River 
watershed on the eastern edge of the Marcellus Shale. The water supply is fed by 
underground aquifers and the area's rivers and streams, and the water is 
pristine enough to flow unfiltered through a system of aqueducts to 9 million 
New York residents.
There, 
public distrust of gas companies has engendered less tolerance for political 
equanimity. Polluting the aquifer and using too much of the water are the 
central concerns. A de facto moratorium on drilling the shale already exists, 
but lawmakers in Albany are considering codifying a one-year moratorium until 
regulators finish environmental impact studies.
As public protests 
mounted last fall, Chesapeake Energy CEO Aubrey McClendon extended an olive 
branch and promised not to drill his leases in the watershed. In January, New 
York City Mayor Michael Bloomberg urged Gov. David Paterson (D) to put the water 
supply ahead of the economic benefits to a state $7 billion in the 
red.
"July 14 may be the most important date this summer in the Delaware 
River Watershed!" shouts a recent e-mail blast from the Delaware Riverkeeper 
Network. "Moratorium is needed on all gas projects!"
The group, which 
targets water pollution in the basin at the confluence of New York, 
Pennsylvania, New Jersey and Delawar e, regularly petitions the Delaware River 
Basin Commission. July 14 is the date of the commission's upcoming meeting. The 
region's governors are members of the commission, and it sits far enough from 
politics and the day-to-day lobbying in Harrisburg and Albany to act boldly on 
petitions to stop drilling in protected areas of the water basin.
In the 
past few months, the commission has done just that. One pending project, a Stone 
Energy Corp. plan to develop a gas well in Wayne County, Pa., garnered 2,000 
written comments, many of which urged the panel to call a development time-out. 
To that end, the commission has issued sweeping directives since May forcing gas 
project sponsors, including Stone, to be permitted before drilling production or 
exploratory wells. And the panel has said it plans to set aside most 
applications until it adopts regulations for gas drilling in the 
Marcellus.
Regulate first, dri ll 
later
"Your 
pro-gas drilling forces might see us as impeding the process, and state 
regulations are sufficient," said commission spokeswoman Katharine O'Hara. "But 
we are the states," she added. "We're not trying to stymie the industry or 
overstep. Our goal is to ensure this is done in a responsible way and that it 
doesn't harm or degrade the resources in the basin."
Pennsylvania 
politics doesn't separate pro-growth politicians from their environmental 
opponents with neat lines of demarcation. The state continues the search to find 
middle ground.
But increasingly, in some corners, the measured debate in 
Penn's Woods has been drowned out by hyperbole and accusations that the other 
side is being disingenuous. And the New York glare from "Gasland," an HBO 
documentary by filmmaker Josh Fox, has stirred passions on both sides.
In 
it, Fox raises the specter of unchecked corporate power as ga s rigs proliferate 
across the Pennsylvania landscape, poisoning the groundwater and ruining 
people's lives. The gas industry has condemned the film as environmental 
propaganda and wildly exaggerated.
The tone of the film aside, the 
Marcellus debate in Pennsylvania still rests in the middle and is almost 
entirely about the still-evolving science of hydrology.
"We're all 
affected by what happens in the watersheds," said Jeanne VanBriesen, a professor 
at Carnegie Mellon University and director of the Center for Water Quality in 
Urban Environmental Systems. "Water here moves in and out of urban and rural 
environments.
Climate 
change and recent gas drilling-related events have illuminated the difficulties 
scientists face in pinpointing sources of pollution and the way water flows 
through the complex wat ershed.
"Water predictions are based on 
historical records on what's happened in a watershed," she explained. "Global 
climate change is really a game changer for hydro-modeling. The climate is 
changing in a way that is unsuitable for future predictions.
Like 
coal, the rapid industrial development of natural gas adds to concerns about 
water usage and disposal. "To understand what it means to use the water for 
Marcellus development,
In September 2009, a toxic algae bloom killed a massive amount of 
fish and aquatic life along a 43-mile stretch of Dunkard Creek on the 
Pennsylvania-
Discharges into the creek, according to EPA, included a high level 
of total dissolved solids (TDS) that probably created the salty conditions 
needed for the poisonous algae to bloom. TDS measures amounts of sodium, 
chlorides, sulfates, nitrates, carbonates and other minerals, and while they 
aren't considered major pollutants, they can foul fresh water. Water quality 
specialists consider TDS levels to be an indicator that other chemical 
contaminants are in the water.
After the fish kill, environmental 
activists said the high TDS levels could just as likely come from gas drilling 
in the area, which also extracts huge amounts of salt-laden, high-TDS water from 
the ground. As much as half of the millions of gallons of water injected into 
the earth when companies drill or fracture the shale returns to the surface 
contaminated and extremely salty. Coal and gas companies ar e supposed to strip 
out the metals before disposing of the water. The region's geology makes it 
difficult to re-inject water, and recycling is not yet widespread, in part 
because of the cost of the process.
Investigators are still looking at 
what caused the fish slaughter at Dunkard Creek, but VanBriesen said there's 
strong support for the conclusion that algae thrive in salty 
conditions.
"The impact of total dissolved solids more broadly on 
watersheds and ecosystems is less well understood," she said. Still, she 
asserted, "allowing rivers and creeks to get very salty is not good for the 
ecosystem."
Dimock, a northeastern Pennsylvania township where residents 
accused Cabot Oil & Gas Corp. of poisoning their water wells, has become a 
well-known symbol of the troubles in gas country.
Busted gas wells and 
the migration of methane into water wells put the challenge to Hanger. In April, 
the DEP ordered Cabot to plug three wells believed to be the s ource of 
migrating gas. The agency ordered Cabot to suspend the drilling of new wells for 
a year in and around Dimock, and it fined Cabot $240,000.
'What legacy will we 
leave?'
Gas 
industry groups have defended Cabot. They argue that shallow methane is a 
naturally occurring phenomenon in Pennsylvania, a pre-existing condition that 
shouldn't be laid at the feet of a new industry.
In Pennsylvania, unlike 
in New York, there are legal limits to actions a regulator can take to stop a 
company from operating. Hanger has asked the Legislature for clear authority to 
withhold new permits for companies that repeatedly violate 
rules.
Hanger's DEP has hired more inspectors this year. With the support 
of environmental groups and some gas companies, the DEP also pushed for water 
quality regulatory reforms that a few weeks ago received the go-ahead from an 
independent review board in Pennsylvania. The new rules require gas producers to 
treat wastewater to the same quality as drinking water before du mping it into a 
stream. That means ensuring TDS levels don't exceed 500 milligrams per liter. 
The new rules also establish buffer zones for drilling around critical 
waterways.
On Tuesday, Gov. Rendell signed a $28 billion state budget 
that, as part of an agreement among legislative leaders, includes a pledge to 
develop a severance tax on gas production by Oct. 1. It has been among the 
stickiest issues for lawmakers. Few in Harrisburg said they wanted to slow the 
economic growth, but in recent months, broad support grew for crafting a tax to 
help pay for environmental cleanup and local costs incurred because of the 
drilling.
Rendell, who tends to emphasize both the economic opportunity 
and the environmental hazards, gave Hanger and another member of the governor's 
inner circle, John Quigley, secretary of the Department of Conservation and 
Natural Resources, the green light this year to sharpen their tone against the 
gas industry.
The three have kept the p ressure on with regard to the tax 
on gas. "It is difficult for me to swallow the argument that an industry led by 
the likes of Exxon, one of the largest companies in the world, is in fact an 
infant industry," Quigley said at a conference in Pittsburgh in May. "To suggest 
we should wait to tax the industry strains credulity."
The Marcellus 
Shale Coalition, which represents the major Marcellus gas producers, has opposed 
the tax, arguing that saddling producers with a tax on production of anywhere 
from 4 to 8 percent could stifle development in the early stages.
The 
group's president, Kathryn Klaber, has crisscrossed the state to press the 
industry's case. "If you tax something, you get less," she says. "Not everyone 
takes this economic argument to heart."
More than 7 million Pennsylvania 
acres is now under lease for gas exploration, about one-quarter of the state's 
landmass. At a conference in Pittsburgh in May, Quigley called on citizens 
groups to protest proposals to expand leasing in state parks. "There are those 
who would ignore the questions of balance and sustainability, who would look to 
the public lands to balance the budget without regard to consequence,