Nothing new

Breaking the concrete mold

An article came out this week that has added fuel to my search for effective eco-positive change in my life. It was an article in The Guardian, which highlights research showing that the year 2020 is the crossover year for the weight of man-made mass versus living mass. Prior to 2020, manmade stuff weighed less than the biosphere and after this year, we expect manmade materials to outweigh the sum of all living material, give or take. I find that hugely depressing.

In the year 1900, manmade material only weighed about 3% of the global biomass. However, the weight of our manufactured materials has roughly doubled every 20 years since 1900. Large accelerations in man-made material follow other trends such as the post World War II boom, the replacement of bricks with concrete, and the emergence of asphalt as a major road material. While man-made materials are rapidly accumulating, biomass itself has stayed relatively constant in the last century. Although it is important to note that the global biomass is now only 1/2 what it was prior to the first agricultural revolution, about 3000 years ago.

Both the historical loss of biomass and the recent 30 times increase in man-made materials has had dramatic impacts on natural cycles, such as water flow, air quality, soils, biodiversity, and a plethora of chemical cycles like nitrogen, phosphorous, and carbon, as I outlined in A Drop of Grace. Alien geologists studying our planet would likely view these shifts as dramatic, perhaps delineating different ages. We call these eras the Holocene and the Anthropocene. To put the impact of so much nonliving material into perspective, consider a few comparisons. Animal biomass is now less than plastic mass. The collective of trees and shrubs are now outweighed by buildings and infrastructure. For every tree outside there is now the equivalent in mass in human roads and buildings. This is in line with other studies, particularly The Living Planet Report, which estimates that animal numbers are now less than 50% what they were 100 years ago. And yet, we who have caused this change, humans, are only a paltry 0.01% (or 1 part in 10,000) of global living matter.

So how do I disengage from this increase in man-made material? From the perspective of which material contributes the most to the increase in man-made mass, the top of the list is concrete produced at the rate of 549 gigatonnes per year. This is followed by aggregates like gravel at 386 gigatonnes and less so by bricks (92 gigatonnes), asphalt (65 gigatonnes), and metals (39 gigatonnes). Using Wikipedia, I delved into concrete a bit. It is a huge contributor to surface runoff, erosion, water pollution, flooding, and accounts for about 8% of carbon dioxide emissions. So I can vow to not use concrete on my property - Michael has rebuilt our patio without concrete and if we ever install a garden shed we’ll put it on logs or gravel rather than a concrete foot. But frankly, it’s probably better to do without the shed. Make do with a chaotic garage. If our driveway needs redoing, we will go with some permeable surface, possibly recycled plastic? This feels especially poignant as I stare out my window at the river running down our road this wet December day. But what about my impacts more widely?

Addressing the societal use of concrete is less concrete. Double entendre intended. We need to be producing less of the stuff and it’s really hard to know how to impact that. Prior to writing this newsletter, I had been toying with the idea of making my second new eco-habit “Buying nothing new in 2021”, after my first of “Avoid shopping at Amazon”. I’d of course have to exclude things like food - used or only homegrown food isn’t viable and the imagination doesn’t have to go too far to think of other things that can’t be used more than once. But beyond consumables, why buy nothing new? Because the less I buy, the less I am contributing to harvesting materials, manufacturing, transport, and all the associated infrastructure. I can vow to drive less so I’m not contributing to wear and tear on the roads, but I drive so little now, this doesn’t seem very effective. It seems I’m fated to try the “Buy nothing new in 2021” habit. I suppose it would be dubious to embark on an Amazon blitz before the New Year?