Canada is the only country on the Pacific Ring of Fire that doesn't use geothermal energy on a commercial scale. More than 30 years ago, B.C. was instructed to investigate geothermal as a cheaper, more environmentally friendly alternative to building mega hydro dams, such as the Site C dam on the Peace River — but that never happened.

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DeSmog Canada's Carol Linnitt recently travelled to Iceland to learn more about geothermal energy, how it's used commercially and what potential Canada has to bring this renewable resource online.

Carol's video has been viewed nearly 50,000 times in the past week. Check it out — and please consider sharing! (Music by Jon Luc Hefferman.)

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A drive along Iceland’s ‘ring road,’ a winding narrow highway that encircles the isolated island’s 1,332 kilometre circumference, will take you from the sublime to the beautifully desolate in quick succession as views of snow spotted mountains give way lava fields, relatively young in geologic time at 800 years, covered in the country’s signature muted green moss.   But perhaps no natural feature is so stunningly otherworldly than Iceland’s geothermal activity.   The remote island is the outcome of upwelling forces, emerging in the volcanic seam between the Eurasian and North American tectonic plates. The result is a remarkably active geologic landscape, one pitted with boiling mud pots, meandering hot rivers and steaming caverns that open up out of a serene landscape like gaping mouths of Hades.   One of my first day trips, along Iceland’s famous Golden Circle route, I stop at the Geysir geothermal valley, a popular tourist hot spot (the English word geyser is a derivative of the Icelandic word geysir, which means gusher). The Strokkur Geysir, like Old Faithful, is a pressurized water column that superheats and erupts at regular intervals, blasting 25 to 30 metres into the air above a crowd of camera-ready spectators.   Both laconic hot pools and violently boiling cauldrons of water surround the Geysir, all of which can be seen from a vantage point just a short hike up the hill. Small-scale geothermal stations, used in a domestic capacity at houses and farms, dot the landscape, easily identifiable with their consistent plumes of steam rising into the mid-day sky, which at this latitude, above 64 degrees north, seems a bluer blue.

Geothermal pools in the Geysir valley. Photo: Carol Linnitt.

One of the more visibly active of Iceland’s geothermal areas, the Geysir is teeming with tourist busses. [view:in_this_series=block_1]

I gather myself and head for Hveragerdi, a small town about 40 kilometres outside of Reykjavik that tourist brochures have named ‘the geothermal village.’   The first thing you notice pulling into the small town off the highway are the rows and rows of greenhouses. On closer inspection you can see the glass structures are rimmed with thick pipes, drawing hot water from the ground into the houses to support a robust growing season all year round.   In July, Iceland’s hottest month, the temperature averages 11 degrees Celsius, so the added warmth is critical to the country’s success in growing plants year round.   On a Tuesday afternoon I stopped by Garðyrkjustöð Ingibjargar, the local garden centre, run by Ingibjorg Sigmundsdottir, that has been using geothermal heat in its greenhouses since the 1950s.   “I have been in this business for 35 years and have always used geothermal and my father before me,” Sigmundsdottir said. “Since this town began to build up, it always used geothermal.”

The geothermal greenhouses at Garðyrkjustöð Ingibjargar have been in operation since the 1930s. Photo: Carol Linnitt.      “In the middle of the town here we have a hot spring and we use steam to heat the houses,” she said, adding sustainability is something people in Iceland value highly.   “We have very beautiful nature in Iceland and everyone takes very good care of the nature.“   Although Iceland’s vast geothermal resources have been in use since the time of the Vikings, for bathing and washing, it was in the 1930s when the nation embarked on an expensive experiment, pumping hot water through city infrastructure as a source of direct heat. Building on that success, geothermal heated greenhouses quickly followed.   Geothermal horticulture is essential to produce production in Iceland. I recently walked into a restaurant in downtown Reykjavik asking for that restaurant that uses produce grown in geothermal greenhouses. “Do you know the one I’m talking about,” I asked a perplexed-looking hostess.   “Every restaurant in Reykjavik uses vegetables grown in geothermal greenhouses!” she replied.   Beyond plants and vegetables, Hvergardi also uses geothermal to manufacture the vast majority of Iceland’s ice cream and heat underground ovens for baking bread. A common tourist pastime in the city’s geothermal park is to consume an egg you’ve just boiled in a narrow nearby river.   Up beyond the small town centre, with a cup of coconut ice cream in hand (and after changing a flat tire — done before my ice cream melted I’ll have you know!), I arrive at the base of Reykjadalur, or Smoke Valley, named for the multiple steaming geothermal vents along the hillside.   I start the hour hike in to the hot rivers above around 7:00pm, during the late sun of the day. Luckily, because of the high latitude, it won’t be fully dark until around 11:00pm.   I climb the steep trail and round the shoulders of winding hills until I come to a wide open valley with a gentle, steaming river at its base. Jackpot.

The hot river of Reykjadalur. Photo: Carol Linnitt.   I lingered in the hot water until about 10:00pm, just in time for a twilight hike back to the trailhead.   The next day as part of an envoy from the Iceland Geothermal Convention in Reykjavik, I board a bus and head out to Hellisheidi, the world’s largest geothermal power station.   I had discovered the plant before on a previous excursion after noticing its immense steam release tracking through a mountain pass on the highway. I pulled off the road to take a closer look.   Although impressive from the outside, once inside the facility, where our group was welcomed by Pall Erland, the CEO of Orka Náttúrunnar (ON Power), Hellisheidi was a sight to behold.

Steam rises from the Hellisheidi station in Iceland, the world's largest geothermal power plant. Photo: Carol Linnitt.   The plant, which generates 300 megawatts of electricity and 133 megawatts of thermal power, provides all of Reykjavik with direct district heating. It supplies half the population of Iceland with power, Erland said.   According to Reykjavik Energy, Iceland’s power and utility company, the use of geothermal energy displaces 560 thousand tons of coal or 360 thousand tons of oil for heating the capital city each year. In the 100 years between 1914 and 2014, the use of geothermal and hydro power in Iceland prevented 250 million tons of carbon dioxide equivalent from entering the atmosphere, according to Orkustofnun, the country’s National Energy Authority.   Hot water from Hellisheidi travels over 20 kilometres by pipeline to Reykjavik. One of the tour guides at the plant told my group the “ridiculous pants” on the pipelines were insulation, designed to minimize heat lost in the water during its trip to the city.   “It’s around 83 degrees when it starts from this power plant and only looses one to two degrees on the way to the houses” in Reykjavik, Erland told me, “where it is used by half of the population of Iceland for heating houses, for industries, for swimming pools, even heated football fields.”   “That’s a new one,” I laughed.   “We are blessed with a lot of hot water,” Erland said. “So after being used in the houses the rest coming out around 35 degrees is an excellent hot water [source] to be used either to heat up streets, walkways, football or other sport fields. We even use the rest of it to go to a little beach in the summer where people can come and enjoy the sun and a little warmth from the seawater being heated up with geothermal.”   “So,” I replied, “I’m guessing Icelanders don’t like shoveling snow.”   “Well the modern Icelanders try to avoid it as possible and thanks to our renewable resources, we can easily use it for…making life easier,” Erland said with a smile.   DeSmog Canada is currently in Reykjavik for the Iceland Geothermal Conference. To learn more about geothermal potential in Canada, read Canada Has Enormous Geothermal Potential. Why Aren’t We Using it?

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Alternative energy strategies in this country are often viewed as impractical or even anti-Canadian because they suggest a departure from oil dependence. The oil industry insists that oil is an absolute necessity and that phrases like ‘global warming’ and ‘rising emissions’ are blowing things out of proportion.

But, perhaps the idea of oil as a necessity is blown out of proportion. While the real threat of climate change makes itself known around the world, some countries are taking it seriously enough to invest in more sustainable power sources.

This last Friday, a record-breaking level of CO2 was measured at the Mauna Loa research facility in Hawaii. The atmospheric concentration of carbon dioxide reached 400 parts per million—the highest concentration in over 800,000 years. Scientists say that levels shouldn’t exceed 350 ppm in order to prevent a global temperature rise of 2 degrees Celsius. Reaching the 400 ppm measurement shows things are changing faster than scientists had previously imagined.

Many countries have been attempting to reverse this increase by setting energy targets for themselves. The aim is to be oil-free in the not-to-distant future by utilizing things like geo-thermal heat, wind, solar, hydro and wave power. There is no relevant work being done in Canada to suggest that an oil-free goal is even being considered.

According to data collected by The Global Footprint Network, Canadians have the eighth largest ecological footprint in the world. We consume over three times as much per person than what is considered the maximum for earth’s capacity. These numbers suggest that change is imperative, if not inevitable.

It would be easy to use the tiny nation of Tokelau, a territory of New Zealand, as an example of radical change. Tokelau is entirely solar powered. But the conceptual comparison can’t be made—Tokelau is too different.

Sweden, Iceland, France and Germany are not so different from us. Citizens of these countries are familiar with modern comforts like smart phones, snowmobiles, and sandwiches. Yet each of these countries is doing much more to reduce its ecological and carbon footprint. 

With the goal of being oil-free by 2020, Sweden is doing everything it can to reduce the dependence on fossil fuels. In 2009 they began putting labels on food that indicate the carbon emissions associated with the production of that item. It is estimated that they “could cut… emissions from food production by 20 to 50 percent. An estimated 25 percent of the emissions produced by people in industrialized nations can be traced to the food they eat, according to recent research [conducted in the US].”

Iceland has been called “global warming’s front line." The effects of climate change are undeniable, as the ice melts will change the topography drastically. Iceland is pushing hard to become the first nation to break free from the constraints of fossil fuel.

Already, two-thirds of Iceland’s power comes from renewable sources such as hydro and geothermal heat. A few years ago, the first hydrogen-powered commercial vessel – a whale-watching boat – set sail from Reykjavik. Iceland hopes to convert its entire transport system to hydrogen by 2050.

France is a good example of a nation that isn’t suffering for want of culture. Yet they've been bold in their efforts to institute environmental principles at the highest political level. France has been working internationally to “give the environment issue a global institutional framework.”

In 2011 France even outlawed hydraulic fracking, making it "the first country to pass a law banning the technique for extracting natural gas and oil."

Germany is a champion of renewable energy and a wizard at implementing practical environmental policy that benefits both the environment and the economy. The government in Germany has done everything from implementing an eco-tax to discourage petroleum use to heating government buildings with biodiesel to subsidizing renewables like solar and wind. Germany is one of the few industrial nations to actually reduce its greenhouse gas emissions between 1990 and 2005 – by some 18 percent. Between 1990 and 2011 Canada's greenhouse gas emissions increased by a staggering 267 percent. 

Germany's bold move away from nuclear energy also showed the nation's ability to overcome a powerful industry lobby – one that insisted the German economy would crash, prices would soar and energy independence be lost – should a move away from nuclear occur. The story of Germany in this regard should give hope to a nation like Canada, with deep cultural and economic ties to the oil and gas sector. 

Yet Canada, as a country, is resistant to change. When it comes to energy consumption, we’re investing even more heavily in carbon-intensive fuel sources like unconventional oil and gas. And despite international pressure to limit dirty energy projects like the Alberta tar sands, Canada seems intent on digging in its heels.

So why are we such laggards?

The answer is culture. And that, in part, is a culture of convenience. Richard Wilk, Anthropologist and professor at Indiana University suggests in his paper, Culture and Energy Consumption, that North Americans fear a change in our energy infrastructure will greatly affect our level of comfort. He makes the correlation with how ideas of comfort become culture.

Wilk writes: “it took more than 30 years to convince Americans that air conditioning was not going to cause disease.” It would probably take even longer now to wean the Amerian populace off of air conditioning.

Cultural mindsets can be firm, but can also change when necessity dictates it. 

In a recent interview, former US vice president, Al Gore, used the recent legalization of gay marriage as an example of how suddenly shifts in mentality can occur. He said that he couldn’t have predicted such a “non-linear shift.” But he’s noticed that, when given a simple choice of what’s right and what’s wrong, change can be quick. “There is a bubble of illusion on carbon fuels, and the dawn of realization that we are destroying the climate envelope within which human civilization has flourished will change everything.”

But that realization has yet to prove its importance to Canada's oil and gas sector. Industry appears to abide by its own form of convenience – one heavily invested in fossil fuel production, no matter how unsustainable that production has become. Like Germany, Canada needs to make a bold transition away from the dominant energy paradigm. And like Germany, Canada needs both the general public and the government to push for that to occur.

A loss of culture—or convenience—doesn’t appear to be associated with a transition to carbon-free energy for any of these other countries. Canada's path to climate action won’t be the same—there are geographical, political and economical differences between us. But, on a conceptual level, perhaps the real threat to Canadian culture is the commitment to the status quo, rather than the idea of an oil-free Canada.

Image Credit: wiki

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