The shore of the Arctic Ocean along Alaska’s northern coast is unlike any most people have seen. To the south, flat wetlands extend to the horizon with green tundra so soft and damp that summer travel is only possible by boat. To the north, the water is frozen most of the year, with sea ice pressure ridges that rise rougher and steeper than anything seen on the coast.
Other than a few Native villages and the oil facilities already in place, these thousands of miles of coast have no port, no roads, no people. It’s one of the world’s few places where wildlife outnumbers human life.
The oil industry and its political supporters maintain drilling offshore here is safer than in the deep waters of the Gulf of Mexico. Indeed, BP hopes to complete a well this year despite the moratorium declared by the president. Its Liberty Project is technically considered onshore because it stands on a tiny manmade island of gravel. The project will push the edges of technology by drilling up to 8 miles horizontally under the ocean.
Shell’s exploratory drilling dozens of miles off Alaska’s Arctic shore has been delayed only temporarily because of the BP disaster. After years of legal battle with local Iñupiat people opposing the project, the company was poised to begin this summer.
Arctic offshore drilling presents challenges unseen anywhere else in the world. A moving icepack the size of a major landmass, powered by a storm, delivers an amount of force that is scarcely imaginable. Like a colliding continent, ice can override the land and destroy anything in its path, an event called an ivu in the Iñupiat. A video floating around the Internet shows what an ivu looks like when hits a drilling island. If you’ve been there, it’s hard to picture a structure that could resist it.
In the struggle to remove oil from ever more remote and difficult-to-reach places, the Arctic is every bit as much a frontier as the deep waters of the Gulf of Mexico.
The record of the oil industry offers little confidence it is up to the challenge. Amid its scandals for shoddy maintenance and spills in Alaska, BP and its contractor, Nabors Drilling, were accused by whistleblowers in 2005 of routinely faking tests of blowout preventers on its Arctic rigs. The Anchorage Daily News revealed June 27 that the State of Alaska regulators allowed the company to participate in the subsequent investigation, including coaching witnesses to change their testimony.
And what if a spill occurs? It almost goes without saying that on those remote shores, without roads, ports or even dry ground on which to stand, it would be impossible to mount a cleanup effort anything like what is going on—however ineffectively—in the Gulf of Mexico.Indeed, experts say the industry has never demonstrated an ability to clean up oil from amid broken sea ice. Again, if you’ve been there, it’s hard to see how anyone could.
Accidents happen. The Minerals Management Service, in approving Shell’s project, estimated a 40 percent probability of a spill of at least 1,000 gallons during the life of that project. Spills cannot be cleaned up (Shell’s project would be 240 miles from the nearest support facility). And the potential impact is extreme in this unique ecosystem, where life persists in a habitat suitable only for a limited number of adapted species, including polar bears, walrus, bowhead whales, and other marine mammals.
The current discussion over oil development should include the option of simply setting aside some places where drilling is entirely inappropriate. Offshore in the Arctic should top that list.