In 
the United 
States, we constantly fret about running out of 
oil. But we should be paying more attention to another limited natural resource: 
water. A water crisis is threatening many parts of the country -- not just the 
arid West. 

Sunday, August 23, 2009

TUCSON 

In 
2008, metro Atlanta (home to nearly 5 million 
people) came within 90 days of seeing its principal water supply, Lake Lanier, dry up. Rainstorms eased the 
drought, but last month a federal judge ruled that Georgia may no 
longer use the lake as a municipal supply. The state is now scrambling to 
overturn that ruling; but Alabama and 
Florida will oppose Georgia's 
efforts. 

In 
Florida, 
excessive groundwater pumping has dried up scores of lakes. In South Carolina, a paper 
company recently furloughed hundreds of workers because low river flows 
prevented the company from discharging its wastewater. That state's battle with 
North Carolina over the Catawba River has reached the U.S. Supreme Court. Water 
has become so contentious nationwide that more than 30 states are fighting with 
their neighbors over water. 

Lake Superior, the largest of the 
Great Lakes, is too shallow to float fully 
loaded freighters, dramatically increasing shipping costs. North of Boston, the 
Ipswich 
River has gone dry in five 
of the past eight years. In 2007, the hamlet of Orme, Tenn., ran out of 
water entirely, forcing it to truck in supplies from Alabama. 

Droughts make matters worse, but the 
real problem isn't shrinking water levels. It's population growth. Since 
California's 
last major drought ended in 1992, the state's population has surged by a 
staggering 7 million people. Some 100,000 people move to the Atlanta area every year. 
Over the next four decades, the country will add 120 million people, the 
equivalent of one person every 11 seconds. 

More people will put a huge strain 
on our water resources, but another problem comes in something that sounds 
relatively benign: renewable energy, at least in some forms, such as biofuels. 
Refining one gallon of ethanol requires four gallons of water. This turns out to 
be a drop in the bucket compared with how much water it takes to grow enough 
corn to refine one gallon of ethanol: as much as 2,500 gallons. 

In 
the United 
States, we've traditionally engineered our way 
out of water shortages by diverting more from rivers, building dams or drilling 
groundwater wells. But many rivers, including the Colorado and the Rio Grande, already dry up each year. The 
dam-building era from the 1930s to the 1960s tamed so many rivers that only 60 
in the country remain free-flowing. Meanwhile, we're pumping so much water from 
wells that the levels in aquifers are plummeting. We're running out of 
technological fixes. 

Some dreamers gaze upon distant 
sources of water and imagine that the problem is solved. Plans to divert water 
from rivers in British Columbia or tow icebergs 
from Alaska 
periodically arise. An entrepreneur in Colorado, Aaron Million, recently proposed a $4 billion, 
400-mile pipeline to transport water from the Flaming Gorge Reservoir, located 
on the Green River in Wyoming and Utah, to Denver and 
Colorado 
Springs. But the dreamers tend not to address the immense 
costs, significant environmental objections or regulatory nightmares associated 
with such grandiose proposals. 

More viable solutions include 
desalination of ocean water, reuse of municipal waste and aggressive 
conservation strategies. But none of these is a cure-all. Desalination is 
expensive, burns energy and generates a thorny waste problem. Nor is reclaiming 
water -- that is, reusing water from the sewage system -- a silver-bullet answer 
to the crisis. Aside from the major "yuck" factor associated with the idea of 
potable toilet water, it's also quite expensive, requiring a set of pipes that 
is completely separate from the drinking-water system. 

Conservation does work. In places 
such as San Antonio, Albuquerque, Tucson and 
Long Beach, Calif., aggressive conservation programs have 
reduced consumption dramatically. But it's not enough. 

We 
need a new water policy in the United States. Americans do not pay 
the real cost of the water that we use. In fact, we don't pay for water at all. 
The check that citizens write to their municipal water department or private 
water company covers only the cost of service, plus a small profit for the 
private company. There is no charge for the water itself. 

Last summer, as the price of gas 
inched up over $4 a gallon, Toyota dealers couldn't keep fuel-efficient 
Priuses in stock. We should apply that pricing lesson if we want to conserve 
water, using increasing block rates to discourage profligate water use. 
Tucson does that 
and adds a surcharge for excessive use in the summer, when water mostly goes to 
fill swimming pools and irrigate landscaping. 

The 
idea of charging for water offends many people who think that would be like 
charging for air. Is it immoral to extract fees for an essential resource? 
Precisely because water is a public -- and exhaustible -- resource, the 
government has an obligation to manage it wisely. 

Think of our water supply as a giant 
milkshake, and think of each demand for water as a straw in the glass. Most 
states permit a limitless number of straws -- and that has to change. 

The 
West, one of the thirstiest parts of the country, is developing a system that 
should lead the way: the use of market forces to reallocate water. In eastern 
Oregon, along the Middle Fork of the John Day River, the Oregon Water Trust persuaded 
third-generation ranchers Pat and Hedy Voigt to turn off their irrigation system 
each year from July 20 until the end of the growing season. The 6.5 million 
gallons per day that would have been diverted to grow alfalfa now augment river 
flows and improve the habitat of endangered salmon and steelhead trout. The 
$700,000 paid to the Voigts allowed them to make substantial on-farm 
improvements. 

Taking their straw out of the glass 
is one step toward keeping us from getting parched. 

Robert Glennon is a professor of law at the 
University of Arizona and the author of "Unquenchable: America's Water Crisis and What to Do 
About It."  (He is also on the staff of American 
Rivers.)

Forwarded by 
Bob 
Boyle

classic is Cadillac Desert by Marc Reisner; it meticulously documents how 
the Bureau of Reclamation and the Corps of Engineers have plugged rivers, 
diverted their water in schemes that are all too often either welfare for the 
rich or completely nonsensical, expect politically. Peter