Will Thirsty States Get Great Lakes Water?

For 25 years, residents around the Great Lakes have worried that thirstier regions (or even countries) would make designs on their water. The lakes' bounty as the single largest freshwater source in the world (holding 18 percent of the Earth's available surface freshwater) has inspired the eight surrounding states to try to formulate a legal shield ensuring their water stays in their own backyards.

Now, a quarter-century of fitful but fruitful work to come up with a common, enforceable agreement that would ban the export of Great Lakes water in (among other things) pipelines and railroad cars is just one house of Congress away from final federal consent. The long regional nightmare of Great Lakes drained to green golf courses in Arizona is almost over. Business, government and environmental advocates are singing the praises of the Great Lakes-St. Lawrence River Basin Water Resources Compact.

But a few voices scattered across the region are charging that the compact, as written, will actually facilitate the commercial export of Great Lakes water.

One of the most vocal voices has been Rep. Bart Stupak, D-Mich. He fired off letters to the U.S. trade representative, the Department of State and the International Joint Commission (a U.S.-Canadian body that administers the Boundary Waters Treaty, which covers the Great Lakes), asking them to comment on the potential for sale of Great Lakes water.

"Ratifying the compact could allow Great Lakes water to no longer be held within the public trust and instead be defined as a product for commercial use," says Stupak, whose huge northern Michigan district contains more than 1,500 miles of shoreline on Lakes Superior, Huron and Michigan. "I want to thoroughly understand the lasting impact this compact could have on Great Lakes water for years to come. It took the governors more than three years to get this done, so it is not unreasonable for Congress to take the time necessary to make sure we are not opening the door for the commercialization (of) Great Lakes water."

What's all the fuss about? It depends in part on whether any given reviewer of the compact thinks it opens the sluices of the Great Lakes for commercial capture and sale, or is a pragmatic recognition of the reality of an already thriving bottled water industry that dramatically advances sustainable water policy in a region used to water abundance, and waste.

The differences of opinion between supporters and critics of the compact are stark.

A supporter, Noah Hall, a professor of law at Wayne State University in Detroit, says: "The water protection standards in the compact make several desperately needed reforms in water law, including water conservation, environmental protection, and integration of ground and surface water management. I'm confident that these standards will be enforced because the compact specifically provides for citizen enforcement."

Environmental attorney Jim Olson of Traverse City, Mich., part of a legal team that defeated Nestle Waters North America's Michigan water extraction project at the trial court level (a decision later partially reversed in the appellate courts), responds: "It's the 11th hour for the Great Lakes Compact, but let's be sure it's not the 11th hour for the Great Lakes. Before the U.S. House acts on the compact this fall, Congress needs to take steps to assure the document doesn't expose this magnificent ecosystem to commercial exploitation."

The History Behind the Compact

The origins of the compact reach back to the late 1970s, when two plans to begin the draining of the lakes set off an alarm. A $2.1 billion scheme to construct a coal slurry pipeline from the Powder River Basin in Wyoming and Montana to Duluth, Minn., using Lake Superior water to suspend the coal was the first to cause consternation, but ultimately the project failed on economic grounds.