 |
Alaskans deserve better CBM rules
By CHRIS WHITTINGTON-EVANS
(Published: January 9, 2005)
In October 2003, Gov. Frank Murkowski's administration, embarrassed over its mishandling of Mat-Su coal bed methane, decided the already well entrenched industry needed regulating. Looking elsewhere, officials found methane operators ran roughshod over ranchers and residents whose property rights, as in Alaska, are dominated by those of the drillers. Fourteen months and more than a quarter million dollars later, the Department of Natural Resources released its "Enforceable Standards for CBM in the Mat-Su" -- anything but a job well done to Alaskans threatened by speculative and risky methane development.
Valley landowners, especially the hundreds who complained to the state, rightfully expected the standards would be the ones they'd wanted. After all, the methane lies beneath their homes, wells and schoolyards and CBM is myopically viewed by lawmakers here as more valuable than real estate. Some legislators -- Sen. Lyda Green and Rep. Vic Kohring among them -- went so far as to shepherd industry language overriding local ordinance into state law. In spite of assurances it would deal from the top of the deck, DNR has largely followed suit with rules that are discretionary and deferential to developers.
For example, landowners are denied actual notice when their properties or those nearby are about to be leased. As the rules are written, property owners must continually scour the DNR Web site or published legal notices to stay informed about the fate of their own land. Only after leases are issued and exploration begins will operators send letters alerting the neighborhood of their arrival. This cart-before-the-horse approach favors industry and stymies public involvement up front when landowners most deserve a say.
Beyond issues as simple and neighborly as notification, residents requested that the millions of gallons of polluted water drawn daily from CBM wells be safely disposed of deep underground, as is done in conventional gas operations. Instead of mandating reinjection, the standards encourage use of containment ponds, in-stream mixing zones and other methods known to pose health and safety risks and compromise water wells and wildlife. Use of toxic fracturing fluids remains legal. Setback requirements are often left for operators to determine. DNR even allows CBM wells and compressor stations within subdivisions, as long as any one lot is larger than the sum of the other smaller lots. As one Mat-Su Borough Assemblyman laments, "the standards are like Swiss cheese."
To make matters worse, rather than reform the regulatory snarl over split-estate ownership, the new standards complicate it. With federal, state, borough and several types of private owners holding rights to subsurface resources, it's nearly impossible to determine who regulates what. Even Alaska's Oil and Gas Conservation commissioners publicly admit frustration with the permitting and monitoring mess. Regulating CBM was sold to the public as a multi-agency-borough process. But instead of unraveling the jurisdictional tangles, DNR has created a bigger knot. As delivered, the state standards repeatedly conflict with and contradict rules passed last fall by the Mat-Su Borough. Regulations are troublesome enough without confusing inconsistencies that invite litigation.
A temporary hush fell over the methane madness last fall as Evergreen Resources' leases were acquired and partially dropped. Residents had tired of fighting for their land. Meanwhile, six companies which hold rights to over a million acres in the Valley forge ahead. Seismic testing of 800,000 acres in the Susitna basin has begun. One recent CBM lease -- 17,000 acres near Big Lake -- sold to a Canadian company whose president once headed Evergreen Resources' Alaska operations. A not-so-quiet interest in Mat-Su methane grows within the industry that knows the gas and the gambles played in getting it.
For most Alaskans, though, the return on investment for protecting our interests from CBM is poor. The new state standards -- expensive, time-consuming and promising as they were -- are weak, contradictory and apply only to a fraction of the state. Other Alaska communities threatened by CBM impacts must now pay for and suffer through their own rule-making process, likely without much to show for it. A boss of mine once advised, "Always under-promise and over-deliver." Unfortunately, this administration has it all backwards.
Chris Whittington-Evans owns a small business in Palmer, where he lives. He also is board president of the nonprofit Friends of Mat-Su.
(Published: January 9, 2005)
In October 2003, Gov. Frank Murkowski's administration, embarrassed over its mishandling of Mat-Su coal bed methane, decided the already well entrenched industry needed regulating. Looking elsewhere, officials found methane operators ran roughshod over ranchers and residents whose property rights, as in Alaska, are dominated by those of the drillers. Fourteen months and more than a quarter million dollars later, the Department of Natural Resources released its "Enforceable Standards for CBM in the Mat-Su" -- anything but a job well done to Alaskans threatened by speculative and risky methane development.
Valley landowners, especially the hundreds who complained to the state, rightfully expected the standards would be the ones they'd wanted. After all, the methane lies beneath their homes, wells and schoolyards and CBM is myopically viewed by lawmakers here as more valuable than real estate. Some legislators -- Sen. Lyda Green and Rep. Vic Kohring among them -- went so far as to shepherd industry language overriding local ordinance into state law. In spite of assurances it would deal from the top of the deck, DNR has largely followed suit with rules that are discretionary and deferential to developers.
For example, landowners are denied actual notice when their properties or those nearby are about to be leased. As the rules are written, property owners must continually scour the DNR Web site or published legal notices to stay informed about the fate of their own land. Only after leases are issued and exploration begins will operators send letters alerting the neighborhood of their arrival. This cart-before-the-horse approach favors industry and stymies public involvement up front when landowners most deserve a say.
Beyond issues as simple and neighborly as notification, residents requested that the millions of gallons of polluted water drawn daily from CBM wells be safely disposed of deep underground, as is done in conventional gas operations. Instead of mandating reinjection, the standards encourage use of containment ponds, in-stream mixing zones and other methods known to pose health and safety risks and compromise water wells and wildlife. Use of toxic fracturing fluids remains legal. Setback requirements are often left for operators to determine. DNR even allows CBM wells and compressor stations within subdivisions, as long as any one lot is larger than the sum of the other smaller lots. As one Mat-Su Borough Assemblyman laments, "the standards are like Swiss cheese."
To make matters worse, rather than reform the regulatory snarl over split-estate ownership, the new standards complicate it. With federal, state, borough and several types of private owners holding rights to subsurface resources, it's nearly impossible to determine who regulates what. Even Alaska's Oil and Gas Conservation commissioners publicly admit frustration with the permitting and monitoring mess. Regulating CBM was sold to the public as a multi-agency-borough process. But instead of unraveling the jurisdictional tangles, DNR has created a bigger knot. As delivered, the state standards repeatedly conflict with and contradict rules passed last fall by the Mat-Su Borough. Regulations are troublesome enough without confusing inconsistencies that invite litigation.
A temporary hush fell over the methane madness last fall as Evergreen Resources' leases were acquired and partially dropped. Residents had tired of fighting for their land. Meanwhile, six companies which hold rights to over a million acres in the Valley forge ahead. Seismic testing of 800,000 acres in the Susitna basin has begun. One recent CBM lease -- 17,000 acres near Big Lake -- sold to a Canadian company whose president once headed Evergreen Resources' Alaska operations. A not-so-quiet interest in Mat-Su methane grows within the industry that knows the gas and the gambles played in getting it.
For most Alaskans, though, the return on investment for protecting our interests from CBM is poor. The new state standards -- expensive, time-consuming and promising as they were -- are weak, contradictory and apply only to a fraction of the state. Other Alaska communities threatened by CBM impacts must now pay for and suffer through their own rule-making process, likely without much to show for it. A boss of mine once advised, "Always under-promise and over-deliver." Unfortunately, this administration has it all backwards.
Chris Whittington-Evans owns a small business in Palmer, where he lives. He also is board president of the nonprofit Friends of Mat-Su.