You bet your sweet biomass

March 22, 2006

    Recently, a local booster of alternative energy told me he was excited about a new project to provide heat for a major development in Traverse City by burning “biomass.“
  “What‘s biomass?“ I asked, thinking it sounded vaguely obscene.
   “It‘s woodchips,“ he replied.
   I had to laugh because it seems it‘s getting harder and harder these days to speak plainly, using raw, descriptive words that say just what you mean.
   George Carlin‘s latest book, “When Will Jesus Bring the Pork Chops?“, contains a number of essays on this score, noting that we‘ve become unable to speak plainly.  Instead of being fired these days, for instance, you‘re “downsized, outsourced, made redundant.“  And when that happens, as is the case for the 200 or so unfortunate employees of Georgia-Pacific who were “let go“ from a particle board plant in Gaylord recently, the government‘s response tend to be “job retraining.“
   Retraining for what?  Neurosurgery?  Astrophysics?  Coffeehouse barista?  Seal trainer?  Circus clown?  I never did get that “job retraining“ thing -- if you don‘t have a “plan B“ and the skills it takes to cook up a resume at a moment‘s notice, then a dab of “job retraining“ isn‘t likely to be much help.  It‘s more like salt on the wound than a bandaid.
   But I digress.  Last week in TC there was a big Biomass Conference; a gathering of the tribes of environmentalists and alternative energy advocates to discuss the use of  biomass for local power.
   Personally, I‘m skeptical of biomass.  Schemes like ethanol (fuel made out of crops) seem like a great way to deplete topsoil and encourage erosion just so someone (me?) can keep their hot tub blasting at 102 degrees Fahrenheit all winter.  And are woodchips the answer to the large-scale energy demands of the United States, or simply the byproduct of encouraging more destruction of our state and federal forests by the timber industry?  
   Speaking of keeping things simple, what I want to know, is why don‘t the advocates of alternative energy start promoting the idea of simply wearing sweaters and hats in the winter to lower those big heating bills and save energy?  That‘s what po‘ folks do in Peru up on the cruel, cold Altiplano where it‘s freezing harsh and there‘s no fuel for heating, no electricity for lights: instead, they wear fine sweaters and caps woven from llamas, alpacas and such.  And most walk around barefoot with their toes blackened by frostbite.  
   Now that‘s alternative energy.  And it‘s the same thing my parents practiced and all the generations before them, waking up on the farm with frost on the inside of the windows.
   The funny thing about energy is it‘s such a contentious subject.  Some people grow furious over the idea of nuclear power, even though the only practical alternative is burning coal and choking the planet in a greenhouse of rising temperatures.  And some give lip service to alternative power, but blow a fuse if a windmill is planned that will block their view of the bay.  And so on.
   Coincidentally, the same week as the Biomass Conference, a new group called Don‘t Plant It Here announced their opposition to a proposal for a new woodburning plant on West Bay in Leelanau County.  TC Light and Power would like to open a woodburning plant on two acres it owns along M-22 in Greilickville, just northwest of  Traverse City.  You know, burn some biomass for heat.
   But foes of the plant believe it‘s the wrong location, establishing a smelly eyesore at the gateway to Leelanau County.  And like the plans to establish windmill farms along the Lake Michigan coastline, no doubt there will be a hue and cry raised over this plan for alternative power -- or any plan -- coal, nuke, wind, what have you.  Many of us just seem to be wired a little peculiarly when it comes to our preferences on the power needed to heat our tea.
   No wonder we‘re resorting to doublespeak, using terms like biomass.