The dawn of the environmental era in modern mining

As a young man, I viewed the mining industry as inherently destructive of the environment. My view changed gradually as I worked as a consultant to the industry over the past 25 years. I witnessed its assumption of responsibility towards the environment and embrace of women and, most recently, Indigenous people. I want to tell you about these transformations.

Early experiences reaffirmed my impression that mining is destructive. In my very first project at the Bell Copper Mine (BC), I came upon Black Spruce Swamp, a forested area decimated by acid drainage. The scattered black trunks left standing in the flooded soils epitomized the wanton destruction I imagined in this industry. A few years later, I witnessed a “kill zone” below the Hector-Calumet Mine (YK), where toxic, metal-laden tailings had been dumped over the hill side for years. The old timers I spoke with knew that their practices were destructive, but this was accepted as an unavoidable consequence of wealth creation.

These practices disappeared during the next 25 years. The change followed the upheaval from the 1960’s and 70’s, when our views towards the environment shifted. It wasn’t just trout fishermen that complained about the loss of fishing spots due to acidic mine drainage (AMD or ARD): regular folks no longer accepted that environmental destruction was the necessary cost of business. Gradually, the industry confronted its unsavoury legacy and began a reckoning of its environmental obligations.

A report in the 1990’s estimated the total environmental liability of Canadian mining companies at $4-5 billion, a shocking figure that woke up many people in the industry. Equally important, we learned that, once started, acid generation can continue for decades and centuries. Long-term liability doesn’t even begin to cover it! When accounting for the cost of treating ARD, the math led to an inescapable conclusion: it is better to avoid or prevent generating bad water than to deal with it after the fact. Mines that generate ARD long after they close may cause more expensive environmental damage than the earnings they generated (for example, the Mt Washington Copper Mine in BC). At its limit, some proposed mines have been refused permits because of the long-term environmental risks posed by ARD (e.g., Windy Craggy in BC).

The industry response was to sponsor a comprehensive research program (the Mine Environment Neutral Drainage (MEND) Program) to understand ARD generation and to develop solutions to it. This program pooled the talents of many individuals and its research yielded spectacular results in addressing ARD generation. Crucially, MEND also developed an extensive program to disseminate its research findings. Other initiatives (ATDI, INAP) spawned elsewhere to extend the work started by MEND. Together, these programs became key engines of reform in the mining industry.

Draw what conclusion you will, but the dawn of environmental stewardship at mine sites coincides with the visible arrival of women in the industry. My first sign of this came in 1994 at an oil sands operation. I pulled my pickup truck aside to give way to an incoming haul truck. However, the massive vehicle parked on the other side of the road and out of its cab came not a giant man, but a tiny woman! The sigh of her floored me. Never had I seen a woman drive a haul truck, never mind a tiny woman driving such an enormous machine! I soon learned that women drivers were appreciated for their prudent driving, which decreased maintenance costs without sacrificing productivity. It was not about being nice: it was about economics.

In 1999, I felt most vividly the dual arrival of women and environmental stewardship during a trip in The Yukon. First, I went to United Keno Hill Mines in Elsa to do some vegetation studies. The mine was an abandoned rust bucket that was being revived, with a “rustic” mine camp and a handful of miners. When a group of us asked an old timer to guide us into one of the underground mines, he balked strangely. “I won’t do it! Women bring bad luck.” Such was the attitude among old miners. I left this place behind – the old building, rusting trucks, mangled hillside and gnarly miners – for the Brewery Creek Mine, outside of Dawson City. It was like stepping into daylight: new buildings, new trucks, clean operation…and women, up to one-third of the workforce. Change was palpable: I could see it right there! I felt like I had left the nineteenth century and crossed into the twenty-first in a single trip.

It is one thing to see harbingers of change: it is quite another to see the future discussed and its outline being described. I participated in a few workshops where this happened.

My first was an in-house workshop held by Placer Dome in 2000 to discuss mining of the future. This is when I first met Marilyn Hames, an accomplished engineer whose homely appearance betraying nothing of her brilliance. Oh, how everyone stopped and listened intently when she spoke! This talented woman articulated a vision of mining in the future, where ore was leached in-situ, gold was recovered at surface and pits and waste rock piles were things of the past. The entire mine site comprised a few buildings in the forest and a single road to bring gold to markets. I was stunned by the brilliance of her vision, even more so by her power and genius.

In another workshop, we asked ourselves: can we develop waste rock piles that do not leach contaminants? The question was as absurd as it was brilliant. Absurd because dumping waste rock into a pile is the simplest, most straightforward thing to do. Brilliant because it asked us to envision different ways of doing things and change the outcome. Suddenly, we started looking at things differently: how the mining landscape could be reshaped after closure, with soil covers on the slopes being integrated with treatment wetlands at their base, thereby creating a new landscape that constrains contaminant migration and protects the environment.

All of these developments seemed distant and theoretical, but they became concrete when I visited the Kemess (South) Mine in BC in the mid-2000’s. There, I met Georgia Lysay and Jennifer McConnachie, two competent young ladies who were completely committed to the protection of the environment. This was not a secondary pre-occupation, incidental to production: this was central to their concerns. The mine stands out in my mind as a model of Life Cycle Planning and mine reclamation. Reactive waste were identified at the mine face and segregated from non-reactive waste. The former were placed in piles adjacent to the pit, to be backfilled into the pit at closure. The latter were located strategically throughout the site to facilitate reclamation and avoid environmental impacts. The mine was designed from the outset to minimize or eliminate environmental impacts. It was brilliant.

All the questions asked in the 80’s and lessons learned in the 90’s presented themselves before me at Kemess, fully answered. Another step in this evolution appeared earlier this summer, when the role of Indigenous people as long-term custodians of reclaimed mine lands was considered. This is another chapter in mining that is being written as we speak. Stay tuned: better things are still to come.

Epilogue

A reader told me that she was troubled by my characterization of some of the women I wrote about: the tiny woman at an oil sands operation or Marilyn Hames' appearance. She is right that these characterization are partly what holds back women in the industry. However, I was trying to convey my reactions at the time, exactly as I experienced them. I know that I would react differently today, that I have evolved, just as the industry has evolved. I did judge Marilyn by her appearance when I first saw her and I learned how utterly wrong I was. (In fact, I have nothing but admiration for this incredible woman and hope to convey this to her some day). I trust that readers will judge us not by our past failings but by the degree to which we have managed to shed them.

Sincerely, André