WHICH product “reinvigorates any time fatigue overtakes you”? If you believe the sales pitch, it’s oxygen. Canisters containing about 10 minutes’ worth of 99.5 per cent pure oxygen are sold in Britain as an “aid to healthier living, countering the effects of smog and pollution”. And in Japanese cities, bottled oxygen is available at bars and from dispenser machines. But if you are tempted to splash out on some fresh air, why stop at an ordinary variety when you could treat yourself to lungfuls of pure tropical rainforest oxygen? Of course, there’s absolutely no difference – one oxygen molecule is just the same as another. But that’s just a small inconvenience to those behind one of the most bizarre marketing projects of our times.
The idea comes from the government of Solomon Islands, a string of islands scattered over some 1.35 million square kilometres of the southwestern Pacific. Plans to bottle and sell not just oxygen but also water from the country’s rainforests were outlined just over a year ago by the Prime Minister, Solomon Mamaloni. The plan is part of a major restructuring of the Ministry of Forests, Environment and Conservation, and comes at a time when past efforts to achieve a sustainable forest policy in the Solomons have been largely abandoned. Last year, the government-owned plantations were sold and more than 450 forestry workers made redundant. At the Forest Research Station in Munda, Western Province, scientists were as dismissive of the bottled oxygen scheme as staff at the Office of the Prime Minister were of the research station’s work.
It is not only forestry experts that the government has failed to convince. Around the capital, Honiara, the plans to sell oxygen and water are privately described as “unworkable” and “mad”. Critics see them as a smoke screen designed to divert attention from a disastrous logging policy. A forestry inventory completed in 1992 put the sustainable rate of harvest at 325 000 cubic metres of timber per year. Escalating extraction since then has brought the sustainable yield down to 275 000 cubic metres per year. Yet the government has issued logging licences allowing an annual cut of 4 million cubic metres, a rate of extraction that would leave Solomon Islands logged out in just three years. In fact, the logging companies, which are mostly foreign owned, are not equipped to cut quite this fast. But even at the present estimated cutting rate – 700 000 cubic metres last year – the resource cannot last more than 10 years.
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Counter measures
There have been some efforts at reforestation to counter this destruction, but they have not achieved much. Money for research is limited and the Solomons have done very little work on natural forest management. Most of the aid money channelled through Britain’s Overseas Development Administration since independence from Britain in 1978 has been used to fund industrial forestry and plantations of nonindigenous trees. For the past two years the ODA has given money – about £1 million in 1993/4 and nearly £1.5 million in 1994/5 – to fund a more enlightened internationally backed scheme called the National Forestry Action Plan. This emphasises management, infrastructure building and planning within the context of overall land-use development and the need to involve rural people. Its aim was to stop the runaway activities of the logging companies. But funding has run dry and the programme remains unfinished.
Worse still, this month Australia withdrew support worth 2.2 million Australian dollars of aid, reputedly fed up with the Solomons government’s unsustainable logging policy. Mamaloni has described the action as “condescending and disrespectful to the sovereign rights of Solomon Islands”. In past years the money had been earmarked to pay for the Timber Control Unit which monitored cutting activities. In future it is likely that timber companies will fail even to abide by minimal good management practices. According to Bill Gina, publicity officer at the Solomon Western Islands Fair Trade community logging project, “once you eradicate the type of checks made by the Timber Control Unit you can assume that there will no longer be any hope of making Solomon Islands have a sustainable forest industry”.
Ninety per cent of the 355 000-strong population of the Solomons live in isolated villages scattered around the country’s islands, cays and atolls. They rely on clean seas and fertile forests to live a subsistence lifestyle that their ancestors would still recognise. But since 1978 the country’s dependence on logging revenue has increased steadily, and logging now accounts for 56 per cent of the Solomons’ foreign exchange earnings.
Nobody doubts that drastic measures will have to be taken soon if the islands are to retain any indigenous rainforest. The Solomon Islands Central Bank, a strong critic of the government’s handling of the country’s natural resources, charts the progress of a nation in crisis in its annual reports. Recently it warned: “The high dependence on the logging sector, not only for government revenues, but also as the main engine of growth in external reserves represents a major weakness of the economy.” The nation is currently running a £650 million deficit.
But is selling bottled rainforest oxygen and water the answer? Joses Tuhanuku, formerly minister of forests and now an opposition MP, is scathing about the idea. “It is typical of this government,” he says, “that they try to present themselves as being concerned about the basic needs of the people, but come up with ideas that are completely unscientific like bottling oxygen – or like logging a place in the most reckless way possible and then saying it can be used for agriculture.”
Jane Clark, a forestry adviser at the ODA, is equally critical. “An oxygen molecule is an oxygen molecule,” she points out. The ODA is happy to back nontimber forest initiatives, and Clark says that in other countries it supports activities such as the marketing of fungi, bark medicine, baskets, bamboo and rattan. There is, however, no research into bottling rainforest water or oxygen. “The plan is scientifically untenable.”
A slightly less hostile response comes from Steve Bass, director of the Forest and Land Use Programme at the International Institute for Environment and Development (IIED) in London. “Americans have plenty of strange ideas, they even sold pet rocks – so if Solomon Islands can find a niche market why not export air?” he says. Bass is well known for his innovative approach to forestry. At the IIED he is developing ways of evaluating the worth of forests that take account of factors that are traditionally ignored. These include biodiversity and the value of the clean drinking water from a healthy rainforest’s rivers and streams. “It’s still a highfalutin idea to put a value on a forest so that’s why we’re developing a form of stocktaking with a social and environmental point of view,” says Bass. But bottling oxygen is going too far even for him. “It’s such a bizarre idea that I can hardly treat it seriously,” he says.
Oxygen makes up approximately 20 per cent of the atmosphere, the remaining 80 per cent being mainly nitrogen. The most common way to separate the two involves liquefying the air by cooling it to around −200 °C, and then distilling it. This requires a huge energy source as well as infrastructure to ship out the finished product. Conventional oxygen plants are usually sited close to a port or near a major user such as a hospital or a steel, glass or cement plant where the gas is used to make furnaces burn hotter. The isolation of Solomon Islands poses big economic problems for anyone thinking of bottling oxygen there. “You can’t bottle oxygen and expect it to be sustainable, because of the amount of energy you put into bottling,” says Max Henderson, director of the Pacific Heritage Foundation, which helps communities set up their own sustainable, community forest projects in neighbouring Papua New Guinea.
If oxygen is not going to save the Solomons’ rainforest or its shaky economy, could water be the answer? David Burslem of Aberdeen University, who has studied forest regeneration at Kolombangara in Western Province, believes there are possibilities in bottling water for local sale. In Britain, for example, the market for bottled water is worth £350 million a year, with some brands selling at 4000 times the price of tap water. But it may already be too late to tap into this market. “I’d be very doubtful about the quality of water,” says Burslem. “It’s going to contain sediment.” The damage has been done by logging companies. All too often they have not been sticking to the rule that says they must leave a strip of untouched forest beside any waterway. “On New Georgia, in Western Province, I saw logging occurring right up to stream edges, and in some cases logs blocking the stream,” says Burslem.
Rule breaking
This blatant flouting of logging rules occurs in many of the country’s provinces. In a recent issue of the magazine Link, which is published by the independent Solomon Islands Development Trust, a photo-story of a dead river near Baolo in Isabel Province highlights an increasing problem for villagers. “This lovely river was used by locals for bathing and fishing,” says one caption. “Nowadays it has turned into a cup of Milo [hot chocolate] as a result of the logging operation in this area.” A similar picture is painted by Tuhanuku. “Loggers have already destroyed much of our forests and because of the methods used by loggers the streams have already been spoilt,” he says. “If local people find it hard to use for their consumption I don’t know how they can talk about bottling it.”
The sad irony is that bottled water may become a necessity, not just a tourist item, as good drinking water becomes harder to find and the supply to Honiara increasingly erratic. But even where the water looks clean, it is not necessarily pure. “Tropical forests often occur on acid, old soils so acidity can be a problem,” says Mike Billett from the department of Plants and Soil at the University of Aberdeen. “Acid waters can cause certain elements to become mobile, like iron and aluminium which have potential health problems.” Billett also points out that rainfall in the tropics is highly seasonal. “Rivers may be quite sluggish for long periods and then explode during high rainfall seasons, and this will affect water quality,” he says.
Given that Solomon Islands is finding it hard to meet its own needs for clean drinking water, and with an oxygen plant in the rainforest written off by many as a crazy folly, what does the government hope to achieve with its new policy? “Anything that detracts from the fundamental question of who controls resource areas, legal rights and the damage to biodiversity by removing rainforest cover has to be carefully questioned,” says Mark Campinale, a City analyst who works for the major London-based insurance company NPI on its ethically driven Global Care unit trust. The scheme to bottle oxygen and water is seen by Campinale, among others, as a classic time waster devised by a government that offers lip service to sustainability and alternatives to nontimber forest products, but has a vested interest in logging. “Investors will have to look very carefully at who will benefit,” he says.
For years, visitors to Skegness on England’s east coast have been coaxed into taking home a can containing a breath of the resort’s famously bracing seaside air. “Our cans are tongue-in-cheek,” say staff at the Skegness tourist information office. “Anybody who buys them knows that.” The suspicion is that Solomon Islands’ new forest policy is a joke of a more sinister kind.
