U.S. News
& World Report, August 12, 2002 p22
The Coming Water Crisis. (water-supply
infrastructure decay)
Marianne
Lavelle; Joshua Kurlantzick; David D'Addio.
Full Text:
COPYRIGHT 2002 U.S. News and World Report, Inc.
The tap water
was so dark in Atlanta some days this summer that Meg Evans couldn't
see the bottom of the tub when she filled the bath. Elsewhere in
her neighborhood, Gregg Goldenberg puts his infant daughter, Kasey,
to bed unbathed rather than lower her into a brew "the color
of iced tea." Tom Crowley is gratified that the Publix supermarket
seems to be keeping extra bottled water on hand; his housekeeper
frequently leaves notes saying, "Don't drink from the faucet
today." All try to keep tuned to local radio, TV, or the neighborhood
Web site to catch "boil water" advisories, four of which
have been issued in the city since May to protect against pathogens.
"We've gotten to the point where I'm thinking this is just
normal," Evans says. "It's normal to wake up and take
a bath in dirty water."
In a nation
where abundant, clear, and cheap drinking water has been taken for
granted for generations, it is hard to imagine residents of a major
city adjusting to life without it. But Atlanta's water woes won't
seem so unusual in the years ahead. Across the country, long-neglected
mains and pipes, many more than a century old, are reaching the
end of their life span. When pipes fail, pressure drops and sucks
dirt, debris, and often bacteria and other pathogens into the huge
underground arteries that deliver water. Officials handle each isolated
incident by flushing out contaminants and upping the chlorine dose
(Atlanta says its water meets health standards despite its sometimes
unappetizing appearance), but no one sees this as a long-term solution.
America's aging water infrastructure needs huge new investment,
and soon.
Decayed pipes
alone would be a serious challenge. Now, add these: Providing water
free of disease and toxins is ever more difficult, as old methods
prove inadequate and new hazards emerge. Shortages have become endemic
to many regions, as record drought and population sprawl sap rivers
and aquifers. Then there's the threat, unthinkable a year ago, that
now seems to trump all others: terrorism. Put it all together, and
it's easy to see why concern over clean drinking water might someday
make the energy crisis look like small potatoes.
"The
idea of water as an economic and social good, and who controls this
water, and whether it is clean enough to drink, are going to be
major issues in the country," says economist Gary Wolff, at
Oakland's Pacific Institute for Studies in Development, Environment,
and Security. In March, Environmental Protection Agency Administrator
Christie Whitman called water quantity and quality "the biggest
environmental issue that we face in the 21st century."
Water providers
say that Americans can still trust the product on tap. "People
should feel good about their water. Water is safe and we're working
hard to keep it that way," says Thomas Curtis, deputy executive
director of the American Water Works Association. But the Natural
Resources Defense Council's Erik Olson detects a "schizophrenic"
element in industry assurances. "They
say we need hundreds of billions of dollars to fix the system, but
when people ask, `Is there a public-health issue?' they say, `No,
no.' But clearly, there's a public-health problem."
Both the
sanguine and the worried agree on one thing: High costs will force
the nation's water delivery system to evolve into something quite
different. Citizens will be asked to pay more and use less. And
big business, still a minor player in this country's water scene,
is seeking a leading role. Private industry promises needed new
capital and greater efficiency, but the jury is still out on whether
it can deliver. Witness, for instance, the plight of Atlanta, which
in 1999 became the largest U.S. city to privatize its water system.
Already the city is weighing whether to nullify its 20-year contract
with United Water, a subsidiary of the French company Suez.
Buried troubles.
For now, issues of ownership, infrastructure, and health have been
back-burnered while governments grapple with the threat of water
system terrorism (box, Page 25). Terrorism, however, cannot long
postpone action on the fissures spreading in the 700,000 miles of
pipes that deliver water to U.S. homes and businesses. Three generations
of water mains are at risk: cast-iron pipe of the 1880s, thinner
conduits of the 1920s, and even less sturdy post-World War II tubes.
While refusing to call it a crisis, Curtis says, "We are at
the dawn of an era where utilities will need to make significant
investments in rebuilding, repairing, or replacing their underground
assets." Cost estimates range from EPA's $151 billion figure
to a $1 trillion tally by a coalition of water industry, engineering,
and environmental groups. The AWWA projects costs as high as $6,900
per household in some small towns.
Health
is at risk if nothing is done. Already, water mains break 237,600
times each year in the United States. An industry study last year
found pathogens and "fecal indicator" bacteria at significant
levels in soil and trench water at repair sites. Of the 619 waterborne
disease outbreaks the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention
tracked between 1971 and 1998, 18 percent were due to germs in the
distribution system. Researchers also question whether Americans
are getting sick from their drinking water far more often than is
recognized. "Is this happening below the radar screen, with
low-level [gastrointestinal] things, where people will stay home
from work, or be miserable at work, and not ever go to the doctor?"
asks Jack Colford of the University of California-Berkeley. He
is leading a major EPA-CDC-funded study comparing disease rates
between participants who drink tap water through a sophisticated
filter and those using a fake look-alike filter. Harvard researchers
reported in 1997 that emergency-room visits for gastrointestinal
illness rose after spikes in dirt levels that still remained well
within federal standards.
Quality
concerns. Just keeping up with federal regulations is increasingly
difficult. The next five years will see more new rules than have
been adopted in all the years since enactment of the Safe Drinking
Water Act in 1974. Environmental advocates blame the logjam on delays
in addressing many health hazards. The arsenic standard, which produced
an uproar early in the Bush administration, was years in the making.
The EPA ultimately approved the same standard President Bill Clinton
chose in his last days in office--reducing the arsenic limit from
50 to 10 parts per billion. The change of heart coincided with a
National Academy of Sciences report, released to little notice the
week of September 11. It indicated that even the Clinton standard
was weak: As little as 3 ppb arsenic carries a far higher bladder
and lung cancer risk than do other substances EPA regulates.
New science
has also undermined confidence in older methods of purifying water.
Chlorination has been one of the 20th century's great public-health
achievements, smiting the deadliest waterborne diseases, cholera
and typhoid. But this sword has developed a double edge. Nearly
200 women in Chesapeake, Va., sued their water system, claiming
that miscarriages they suffered in the 1980s and 1990s are traceable
to trihalomethanes, chemicals produced when chlorine reacted with
their region's murky river water. While pregnancy-risk research
is hotly debated, the EPA decided that cancer risk from chlorine
by-products is high enough that it ordered water system reductions
earlier this year. Localities have already spent millions
of dollars converting to another disinfectant, chloramine (a chlorine
and ammonia mix), which curbs some byproducts.
Cities
and towns are finding that they must deal with new science on contaminants
at a much faster pace than the EPA can regulate them.
This summer, Bourne, Mass., the southern gateway to Cape Cod, had
to close three of its six drinking water wells, having discovered
they were contaminated with perchlorate, a rocket fuel component
that leaked from a nearby military reservation. Across the country,
the Metropolitan Water District of Southern California, serving
17 million people, announced in April that its new treatment system
"will remove a large portion of perchlorate" leaking into
a major regional reservoir, Lake Mead. But U.S. News has
obtained material distributed at a June 11 MWD board meeting showing
the treatment was not working as hoped.
The
EPA is still studying possible drinking water limits for perchlorate
as well as for MTBE, a gasoline additive meant to reduce air pollution
that proved to be a frighteningly efficient groundwater pollutant.
(South Tahoe and Santa Monica, Calif., last month obtained big settlements
from oil and chemical companies to help restore MTBE-poisoned water
supplies.) And in April, a U.S. Geological Survey report revealed
that streams nationwide are laced with prescription and over-the-counter
drugs and even caffeine.
Pollution
is shrinking water supplies for communities at the same time that
burgeoning population and weather are causing severe shortages.
Norman, Okla., with 95,700 people the largest system currently afoul
of arsenic standards, very likely will shut down some wells even
though it expects average daily water demand to more than double
in the next 40 years. "We don't want to be a poster child"
for arsenic contamination, says utilities director Brad Gambill.
This summer, more than 40 percent of the nation--over twice the
normal rate--has suffered drought conditions. "Normally, we
get tons of flowers, but now we have nothing growing," says
Donna Charpied, a farmer in Riverside County, Calif., pointing to
withered plants on her small homestead. Some
ecologists believe global warming will make drought the norm in
much of the West. Drought breeds anger: The CIA predicts that by
2015, drinking-water access could be a major source of world conflict.
Some cities
have already instituted drastic conservation programs. Santa Fe
has restricted lawn watering, leading New Mexicans to decorate yards
with spray-painted artificial flowers. In parched Denver, a conservation
campaign encourages residents to shower in groups. Omaha has an
odd-even residential address lawn-watering program.
One spring
Saturday morning this April, Chuck Maurer of San Antonio realized
while brushing his teeth that he and his neighbors had become victims
of a water conservation program gone awry. "It was grotesque,"
he recalls. "The water was brown in color and cloudy with particulates,
and a really bad odor. It was sewer water." Precisely. The
San Antonio Water System had accidentally cross-connected his neighborhood's
drinking water lines with pipes delivering treated sewage water
to a public golf course. Watering fairways and greens with "reclaimed
water" has become popular in water-short tourist areas, especially
Florida. But experts say such systems require extra care to keep
sewage from entering potable systems.
Big business
to the rescue. With immense challenges ahead, U.S. drinking water
systems are considering something never tried here on a large scale:
privatization. In March, Indianapolis announced a $1.5 billion agreement
with USFilter, the largest U.S. privatization to date, and in May,
San Jose, Calif., voted to consider privatizing. Private firms helped
supply water to Boston as early as 1796, and utilities have long
hired outside contractors to build, but not operate, plants and
distribution systems. But over the past five years, an IRS ruling
that helped firms obtain longer-term tax-free water contracts, combined
with politicians' push for deregulation and municipal-system breakdowns,
opened the door for firms to actually manage systems. Only 15 percent
of utilities are investor-owned, but in recent years, a handful
of big water corporations, mostly foreign owned, have moved onto
the U.S. scene: from France, Suez and the media-water conglomerate,
Vivendi; from Germany, the utility RWE. (One domestic player with
giant ambitions was Enron's water subsidiary, Azurix, which had
touted a plan to plumb the Everglades and manage the water.)
Congress
is considering hiking federal funding for infrastructure, but the
Bush administration encourages the privatization trend, saying that
water systems cannot expect to get all the dollars they need from
Washington. Says G. Tracy Mehan, EPA assistant administrator for
water: "I think the needs are so great especially when you
see the demands of homeland security and the federal budget. Private
capital is one of several options that are going to have to be considered
much more than they have been."
One private-sector
success story is Leominster, Mass., a town of 40,000, which signed
a 20-year deal with USFilter in 1996. Before then, "our treatment
plant was totally corroded. We fixed leaks by putting out old coffee
cans to catch the water," says Mayor Dean Mazzarella. USFilter
saved the city money it then used to upgrade a 60-year-old filtration
plant that was "held together by wire and chewing gum,"
says city environmental inspector Matthew Marro.
Experience
in other countries suggests that privatization can, indeed, pour
needed capital into drinking water. Investment in the United Kingdom
increased more than 80 percent after it turned to total privatization.
"Public-private partnerships are going to sweep the U.S,"
says Andrew Seidel, president of USFilter. "The country has
50,000 different water systems, and those will consolidate into
bigger systems aligned with private companies and able to handle
the growing number of water-treatment issues."
But
in Atlanta, the experience has not been so positive. This summer,
Mayor Shirley Franklin sent a formal notice to United Water that
the city was dissatisfied with its performance under the 20-year
contract signed with the city's previous administration. Problems
cited by Franklin included the firm's staffing levels, bill collection,
and meter installation. Atlanta had hoped to halve the $49 million
annual cost of running its water system by privatizing; one city
official says savings are less than $3 million. "You have to
keep in mind that a public-private partnership is an ongoing dialogue
between the customer and its private partner," says United
Water spokesman Rich Henning. "We certainly have struggled.
But within the last six to nine months we have dedicated more resources,
and we've been listening more to the client." He calculates
Atlanta's savings to be about $15 million a year but says the city
should be using that money to address the infrastructure problems
that United Water inherited.
Gordon
Certain, president of the civic association of North Buckhead, the
neighborhood hardest hit with water-quality problems, says United
Water is unresponsive to complaints. "They're acting kind of
like they have a 20-year contract," he says, wryly. (Of course,
they do.) The company's response to complaints has ranged "from
polite to totally inappropriate," he says. "They told
one woman who wanted her water tested that she should get it tested
herself." But resident Jacques Davignon thinks privatization
"has only made the finger-pointing much more complex."
He says the company and the city should share responsibility. "Let's
not get on TV and beat United Water up," he says. "Let's
do a little forward thinking, come up with a strategic plan."
Private enterprise
also has rushed in with water-shortage solutions. The agribusiness
firm Cadiz Inc. wants to store water in the barren Mojave Desert,
where tidal waves of dust sweep across salt-rimmed dry lakes. The
water, taken from the Colorado River and from an indigenous underground
aquifer, would flow to thirsty Los Angeles during droughts. "Storing
and selling aquifer water will be the key to California's future,"
says Mark Liggett, Cadiz's senior vice president.
Jim Andre,
a desert biologist working in the Mojave, says Cadiz has no impartial
scientific study of the potential impact. Environmental groups warn
that drawing groundwater from the Mojave will create a dust bowl
similar to California's Owens Lake region, a water grab that inspired
the film Chinatown. But Cadiz says it has a monitoring system to
prevent overpumping. "We have solicited tons of input from
all groups for our environmental assessment," Liggett says.
Creative
solutions. Other ideas seem somewhat fanciful. Ric Davidge, a former
Reagan administration official, wants to siphon 10 billion gallons
of water each winter from northern California rivers, pump it into
850-foot-long plastic bladders, and ship it downstate. Other entrepreneurs
suggest melting Alaska icebergs. Oilman T. Boone Pickens hopes to
pipeline water from Texas's Ogallala aquifer to water-short cities
like San Antonio and Dallas.
Privatization
projects are also dogged by accountability concerns. Industry sources
worry that the terrorism vulnerability assessments U.S. water systems
are developing will wind up in corporate parent offices overseas,
possibly unprotected from disclosure. In New Orleans, an official
highly familiar with its water system told U.S News that the Big
Easy's move toward privatization lacks oversight. "The whole
approach to having companies bid for the water system was `public,
catch us if you can,' since after bids were taken the public had
only 10 days to examine the proposals," she says.
Privatization
worries have even made it to Broadway: In the comedy Urinetown,
a firm privatizes toilets and raises toilet fees. Residents caught
urinating in other places are arrested. "With private control,
who guarantees that the less well off will get affordable water,
and who picks up the cost if the private company fails?" asks
Sandra Postel, director of the Global Water Policy Project, a research
institute in Amherst, Mass.
Progress
report. Indeed, the financial viability of some leading water companies
has been called into question recently. Cadiz lost $2.5 million
in the most recent quarter; the firm recently tried to reduce its
debt through a deal with Saudi Prince Al Waleed ibn Talal, but in
July the effort collapsed. Suez's water arm saw revenues grow by
just 1 percent. Vivendi, though experiencing revenue growth of 12
percent, made major missteps in its media division that have left
it laden with debt and is divesting its stake in one water investment,
Philadelphia Suburban.
Nor
have private companies, by and large, delivered savings to consumers.
In fact, most private water providers surveyed by U.S. News charged
higher-than-average rates (table). George Raftelis, a Charlotte,
N.C., industry consultant, points out that unlike public utilities,
private firms do not enjoy tax-exempt financing, are subject to
income taxes, and must return profits to shareholders. Moreover,
"privatization does not equal competition," says Janice
Beecher, director of the Institute of Public Utilities at Michigan
State University. "After bidding, you're transferring the monopoly
powers of a public utility to a private company." She suggests
cities and towns award shorter contracts and make public utilities
and private firms compete.
Citizen outcry
over the water rates private firms charge has boiled over into riots
in countries such as Bolivia. But so far in the United States disputes
have been hashed out in the political process. Peoria and Pekin,
Ill., both are moving to deprivatize their water systems, having
determined that if private ownership continued, future rate increases
would be as much as 60 percent higher than if the systems were publicly
run. Because other communities have done the same, Curtis of AWWA
does not see a mass movement to privatize: "Some are looking
at it, and some are trying to move in the other direction."
But the harsh
reality is that the price of drinking water will most likely rise
whether private industry or government manages the system. The EPA
estimates that the water bill consumes only seven tenths of 1 percent
of U.S. household median income; Americans spend more than triple
that on bottled water and filters. A recent Harvard School of Public
Health analysis pointed out that rates in many developed countries
are significantly higher. "[W]ater rates have been insufficient
to cover long-run costs," such as maintenance of pipes and
plants, let alone larger issues such as preserving clean rivers
and surrounding watershed, the report said.
"People
think water is free because it falls from the sky," says Seidel
of USFilter. "Well, it is--but treated, filtered, and piped
water isn't." Privatization advocates contend that only market-oriented
pricing can force H2O-hogging Americans to conserve. "Unless
you put a market-determined price on something, it is not respected,"
says Clay Landry, a research associate at Bozeman, Mont.'s Political
Economy Research Center. "Right now, who even thinks about
the cost of water coming out of their tap?"
But public
officials are loath to hike rates for fear of burdening lower-income
families. That's certainly a problem in big cities, but even more
so in small towns, where, lacking economies of scale, water treatment
and distribution is more expensive. Consultant Raftelis found that
water bills in small systems average 25 percent higher than in large
ones he has surveyed. The new arsenic rule is projected to cost
households under $1 annually in the largest systems but over $300
in those serving fewer than 100 customers.
Economist
Wallace Oates of the think tank Resources for the Future says arsenic's
economic realities make a case for abandoning national standards
and letting localities weigh costs and benefits on their own. Congress
and the EPA already let small water systems operate with less regulation
and enforcement--some will have 14 years, instead of four years,
to meet the new arsenic rule. The Bush administration is studying
whether to relax small-system standards even more. Yet all but a
fraction of health violations occur in small systems, which serve
some 50 million citizens. "What
you have is a two-tier drinking water system, and that's pretty
troubling," says NRDC'S Olson. He argues that health and efficiency
require a major consolidation among the 54,000 U.S. water suppliers.
Says EPA's Mehan, "Citizens and systems are going to have to
look at this option."
Turning off
the tap. Citizens are certainly looking at other options, but less
with an eye to changing the system than to just protecting themselves
and their families. "We're looking at having a plumber put
a filter on our entire house," said Atlanta resident Davignon.
In the meantime, he buys bags of ice and water from the supermarket,
adding, "I hate to pay for water, but if it's undrinkable,
or the kids can't bathe, you do it." Already, 76 percent of
Californians rely on bottled or filtered water. "We have reached
a breaking point beyond which central treatment can no longer go,"
says Peter Censky, executive director of the Water Quality Association,
which represents filter makers. Joseph Cotruvo, a former EPA water
administrator, agrees: "You wouldn't think of drinking orange
juice out of a pipe, would you? I wouldn't be surprised if 25 years
from now the thought of drinking water as a beverage rather than
a commodity will dominate."
The drive
toward bottled water and filters will, however, widen the gap between
haves and have-nots, a result some hope technology can prevent.
"[G]oing into the 21st century, you can't get the kind of long-term
improvements in water quality that are needed without the next generation
of technology," says Olson. A few U.S. water systems are trying
disinfectants used in Europe: ozone, ultraviolet light, and perhaps
the best purifier (used by bottlers Pepsi and Coke), reverse-osmosis
membrane technology. "It removes just about everything,"
says Olson, "so you don't have this contaminant-of-the-month
approach."
And
yesterday's clean water may not be clean enough for the future.
L. D. McMullen, chief executive officer of the Des Moines water
system, believes as the population ages and more people have compromised
immune systems, cities and towns will have to provide water much
lower in contaminants than they do today. "We will totally
have to deliver water to customers in a totally different way,"
he says. "You may see what I like to call `neighborhood polishing
units,' that develop ultrapure water in the neighborhoods and deliver
it to homes" through much smaller pipe systems. Households
need relatively little superclean water, McMullen points out, since
less than 15 percent of "drinking water" is drunk or bathed
in. Most goes to flushing toilets and watering lawns.
Des Moines
has learned from experience that its citizens will pay for such
improvements: In 1992, the city raised water rates 25 percent to
build the world's largest removal plant for nitrate, an agricultural
runoff that can reduce infants' oxygen uptake (blue-baby syndrome)
and cause other ills in adults. But whether public water systems
tackle their challenges on their own or turn the job over to private
enterprise, or some combination, the changes ahead will require
a revolution in how Americans think about drinking water. "People's
knowledge of water comes from beer commercials, focused on the land
of sky-blue waters, or mountain springs and aquifers underlying
some Wisconsin hillside," says Censky of the Water Quality
Association. "The public thinks water in these sources is pure,
but it's not. Really, pure water is a man-made product."
Pathogens
Source: sewage
discharges and farm runoff can introduce E. coli bacteria, cryptosporidium,
and other harmful microorganisms.
Problems:
gastrointestinal illness, severe in people with weak immune systems.
Hot spots:
New Haven, Mich., San Antonio; any place with treatment or pipe
system breakdowns
Arsenic
Source: occurs
naturally in groundwater, and sometimes as a residue of mining and
other industrial operations
Problems:
a strong poison at high doses; at low doses linked to cancer, diabetes,
and other diseases
Hot spots:
Albuquerque, N.M., Norman, Okla., towns throughout the Southwest
MTBE
Source: a
fuel additive designed to reduce air pollution that has turned into
a swift, efficient groundwater polluter through spills and storage
tank leaks
Problems:
stomach, liver, and nervous system effects, possible cancer risk
Hot spots:
Pascoag, R.I., Santa Monica, Calif., New Hampshire.
Perchlorate
Source: a
component of solid rocket fuel, munitions, and fireworks; has leaked
from at least 58 U.S. military bases and manufacturing plants
Problems:
interferes with functioning of the thyroid gland Hot spots: Riverside,
Calif., Bourne, Mass.; contamination confirmed in 20 states.
THMs
Source: trihalomethanes
form when chlorine reacts with organic material, from decayed leaves
to feces, in water; extremely common contaminant.
Problems:
linked to bladder cancer, with some evidence of miscarriage risk.
Hot spots:
Waco, Texas, and the Washington, D.C., suburbs.
What do Peoria
and Paris have in common?
In the United
States, consumers pay above-average rates in many water systems
run by private companies, a sampling of quarterly bills shows.
PRIVATE
U.S. SYSTEMS QUARTERLY BILL
Peoria, Ill. $100.17
Bloomsburg, Pa. $94.69
Hoboken, N.J. $88.50
Camden, N.J. $74.42
Atlanta $51.00
Jersey City, N.J. $49.80
U.S. average
(public and private) $47.50
Leominster, Mass. $44.70
Corvina, Calif. $35.80
Sources: Raftelis Financial Consulting, 2002 Water and Wastewater
Rate
Survey, U.S. News research
U.S. water rates are low compared with those of other countries,
but that
could change if localities begin to address water system problems.
CITY QUARTERLY BILL
Paris $171.80
Osaka, Japan $115.39
Vienna $97.02
Hong Kong $88.73
United States $47.50
Riga, Latvia $27.05
Sofia, Bulgaria $16.49
Buenos Aires $10.72
Palmerston North,
New Zealand $5.48
Source: Raftelis Financial Consulting, 2002 Water and Wastewater
Rate Survey. Rates are for 22,450 gallons, typical quarterly U.S.
household water use.
Also see:
Your Child's
Vulnerability to Toxic Substances in the Environment

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