The Real Cost of Fracking

Earlier this week I had the pleasure of talking with Michelle Bamberger, a veterinarian and co-writer of the newly-published book, The Real Cost of Fracking (Beacon Press, Aug 2014). Like many living in Ithaca, Michelle Bamberger and her co-researcher, Robert Oswald had never heard about fracking until about five years ago. That’s when they learned that their property was surrounded by leased land and that their land, even without a lease, could be drilled under through a process called compulsory integration.

They were concerned about potential threats to air and water, to local wineries, tourism, and agriculture. But their involvement with veterinary medicine made them keenly aware of what was happening to animals and livestock in drilling areas. Upon hearing stories about cattle and other animals becoming sick and dying after exposure to drilling fluids, they began documenting health problems -  just as they would do when tracing a new disease. What they learned was that too often the people living in the homes and on the farms experienced health symptoms as well.

Bamberger and Oswald published their findings about impacts of gas drilling on human and animal health in a peer-reviewed journal a couple of years ago. But, says Bamberger, “we realized early on that there are a lot of people who would never pick up a scientific article.” So she and Oswald began writing a book that would reach a broader audience.

The Real Cost of Fracking: How America’s shale gas boom is threatening out families, pets, and food is a collection of case studies from Pennsylvania – families and farmers who have seen their animals and children suffer, watched their homes and land lose value, seen their retirement dreams shatter and, in one case, have become shale gas refugees. The book is well-documented, with lots of notes, well-indexed, well-grounded in science – and at the same time very readable.

In the beginning, Bamberger and Oswald outline the difficulties faced by scientists who are trying to study health impacts related to drilling. They discuss baseline water testing, safe drinking water standards, and challenges of air testing. Then they delve into individual case studies. In one chapter they tackle issues of farming and food supply; in another they examine issues of environmental justice.

“We wanted to take our scientific writing and turn it into an interesting story,” Bamberger says. Reading a chapter leaves you asking: if that were me, what would I do?

One caveat the authors put forth at the beginning of the book is that they do not use the real names of the people whose stories they share. While the names are made up, the stories are not, “but each of these stories represents hundreds of similar cases in this country,” Bamberger says.

Collecting information presented a number of challenges for the researchers – from the physical difficulties of reaching some of the locations to obtaining information. One of the obstacles to their research was non-disclosure statements. In many cases where drilling contaminated water wells, the drilling company would require homeowners to sign a statement pledging that they would not talk about their water contamination or any settlement issues before providing drinking water to the home.

The biggest problem with non-disclosure statements, says Bamberger, is that they inhibit the ability of health officials and state regulators to obtain important information about an incident.

Focusing on the health of pets and livestock may seem an odd way to document human health impacts, but Bamberger explains that animals are often the “sentinels” that indicate problems exist. Think: canary in a coal mine. While people head off to work and school, livestock and pets remain on the farm or in the home all day long, exposed to contaminants in air and water. Animals also have higher rates of reproduction and shorter gestation periods than humans, so problems with birth defects often show up earlier, Bamberger points out.

But sentinels can’t replace monitoring – and that’s what’s needed in shale gas country says Bamberger. She points to what happened after the BP spill in the Gulf of Mexico: the FDA stepped in because of concerns about seafood absorbing chemicals from the spill. They monitored for oil dispersants and other chemicals – and continue to monitor seafood. But there’s no monitoring of milk, meat or vegetables in and around gas wells, even where there have been spills on pastureland. At almost every meeting she's been to, Bamberger says someone asks whether the food from Pennsylvania farms in gas drilling areas is safe.

As far as whether New York should allow fracking, Bamberger says there’s a lot of science that shows we’re not ready. “Scientists are raising red flags,” she says, “but no one is listening. The government’s not listening. We should get it right before we go further.”

Fracking Affects Animal Health

photo by Frank Finan

Farmers from Colorado to Louisiana to Pennsylvania have seen their livestock sickened or killed from exposure to drilling fluids, muds and additives. Emissions from well sites, processing facilities and flaring also contribute to health impacts. Animals that don’t die outright may lose weight, show decreased fertility, or experience an increased number of stillbirths, abortions, and birth defects. 

Industrialized gas drilling has turned rural communities into “de facto laboratories for the study of environmental toxicology,” say veterinarian/researchers Michelle Bamberger and Robert Oswald. Farmers – and their animals – are not just exposed to drilling substances; they’re also exposed to the naturally occurring metals, volatile organics and radioactive compounds that are brought back to the surface during the drilling process.

Last year the team documented 24 cases of animal and human health problems with potential links to gas drilling. They visited farms, interviewed farmers and veterinarians, obtained water, soil and air testing results and results from human and animal lab tests.

Only two cases of the cases resulted from direct exposure to hydraulic fracturing fluid; most of the exposures were due to consumption of contaminated water from wells, springs, ponds or creeks. While some cases were due to accidents or negligence, for the most part exposures were a consequence of “normal” drilling operations.

The most common symptoms Bamberger and Oswald found were associated with reproduction: cows had trouble breeding and experienced a higher incidence of stillbirths. Of the seven cattle farms studied closely, 50 percent of the herd, on average, either died or failed to breed.

They lucked out when two beef farms provided natural “controls” – an opportunity to compare exposed cattle with their cohorts who were not exposed. In one case 140 cattle were exposed to wastewater that leaked from an impoundment; 70 died and the survivors suffered a high incidence of stillborn and stunted calves. The remainder of the herd – 60 head pastured with no access to the wastewater – experienced no health problems.

In addition to livestock, Bamberger and Oswald documented health impacts for farm dogs, cats, horses, poultry and llamas. In some cases, dogs and cats drank from puddles left when drilling waste fluid was sprayed to reduce dust on roads. Those companion animals experienced reproductive problems. They also suffered from seizures and other neurological problems, gastrointestinal symptoms, and developed skin rashes or lost feathers and hair.

It’s not just the animals that pay the price. Carol and Don Johnson, who raise beef cattle on their Tioga County (PA) farm, have a well drilled on their property. Two years ago, flowback fluid leaked from an impoundment pit leaked onto a pasture where the Johnson grazed their cattle. In response, the PA Department of Agriculture quarantined 28 head, including 16 cows, four heifers and eight calves. Adult animals were held from the food chain for 6 months and calves exposed in utero were held from the food chain for 8 months. But the exposed calves were quarantined for two years – a real loss of income for the Johnsons. Then, last spring they suffered additional losses: eight of 11 calves born to previously quarantined cows died at birth.  At $500 to $600 a head this represents a significant financial loss, and the Johnsons have yet to collect any royalties from the well.

Here's a video from Bamberger and Oswald's recent talk in Endicott, NY (filmed by Vera Scroggins)