Making of the Ozone Hole

In March 1988, Joseph Glas, director of DuPont Corporation's Freon division, informed his family that the company had promised to stop producing chemicals shown to damage the world's ozone layer. When his children responded "Dad, that's fantastic," he told the New York Times "I know I'm doing something that's important, and it felt good."

But while this decision may have brought satisfaction to one executive and his family, the response of the chemical industry as a whole to the destruction of the ozone layer is hardly a model of corporate responsibility. Ozone Crisis by Sharon Roan, describes how, faced with the possibility that its products posed a global threat, the industry stalled, calling for more research and working to delay regulations that might reduce sales. As a case in point, DuPont's 1988 promise was mostly a public relations ploy; in terms of implementation, it had no teeth. The company set no timetable, and offered to halt production only when alternative chemicals were available.

Roan, science writer for the Orange County Register, tells the story of the development of this environmental crisis, starting in 1973, when Mario Molina, a research chemist at the University of California, Irvine, showed his faculty adviser, Sherwood Rowland, some calculations on the potential effects of chlorofluorocarbons (CFCs), synthetic chemicals with many commercial applications. Molina reasoned that CFCs would travel into the stratosphere to encounter the ozone layer, a region with the capacity to absorb ultraviolet light, thereby reducing the amount which reaches the earth's surface. Molina found that as CFCs wafted into the upper atmosphere, ultraviolet light was breaking them down, setting off a chain of chemical reactions which could destroy ozone.

The implications were severe: increased ultraviolet radiation could increase skin cancers and cataracts, cut crop yields and reduce the population of plankton in the world's waters, thereby upsetting the ocean's food chain; in short, life on earth could be threatened. Even worse, CFCs could take many decades to reach the ozone layer, which meant a long lag time for the consequences. By the time damage was seen clearly, it might be too late to prevent a global catastrophe. Rowland and Molina published their figures in a scientific journal, and began to call publicly for limits on CFC production. At this point, the chemical industry's only response was to label the scientists' work unproven and argue that there was no evidence that CFCs were harming the ozone. It urged no action.

Ozone Crisis takes on the question of when public policy changes are appropriate in situations where there are scientific uncertainties. Although Roan presents both sides of the controversy, she makes clear her view that because of the dangers of delay on ozone protection "Prudence would suggest that the chemicals be banned before any damage was done." But rather than prudence, Roan writes, the corporate community focused on its "first line of defense-preserving profits," although at the time of DuPont's announcement, CFCs provided less than 2 percent of the company's total earnings.

Curtis Moore, who was a staff member for a U.S. Senate environmental committee during this controversy, points out that the industry used the lack of absolute, definitive proof to avoid making a responsible decision. "Here were people who were willing to say they ought not be required to modify their behavior one scintilla until they had massively disturbed one of the fundamental parameters under which life had evolved on earth," Roan quotes him saying.

Fortunately for the earth, the evidence which the chemical manufacturers demanded did mount, albeit with little help from industry. The research was conducted in large part by independent investigators, supported by public funds, especially scientists with the National Aerospace Association (NASA) and the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration (NOAA) or university scientists funded by those agencies. A British team discovered that an ozone "hole" formed over Antarctica each winter. In 1988, a scientific panel convened by NASA reported measurable depletion of world ozone levels.

A few days later, DuPont, the world's largest producer of CFCs, announced its promise eventually to phase out production of CFCs. Though one reason DuPont gave for the indefinite delay was the availability of substitutes at that time, that lack was also something for which the company was responsible. CFC substitutes were not available because industry had abandoned research on alternatives in the early 1980s.

The industry was not alone in its failure to address this global threat. The government response was lethargic, at best. After two petitions (the first was rejected) from the Natural Resources Defense Council (NRDC), federal agencies in 1977 banned CFCs in aerosol sprays. The early Reagan years were marked by hostility to environmental preservation in general and it was not until Ronald Reagan's second term that EPA administrator Lee Thomas responded to a new NRDC petition by supporting a phase-out of all CFC production. Even then, Interior Secretary Donald Hodel and the White House science adviser opposed the EPA position. The White House proposed an alternative which it called the "personal protection" option. But the suggestion that individuals should use sunscreen and wear sunglasses and large hats instead of turning to government regulation for protection was widely ridiculed, and the Hodel plan was discarded.

The chemical industry used the worldwide nature of the ozone problem as a stalling tactic, arguing that restrictions by one country would be meaningless without an international compact. When multinational negotiations, under the auspices of the United Nations Environmental Program (UNEP) commenced, other nations proved even more reluctant than the United States to impose conditions on their manufacturers. Government-industry ties appeared strong. At some sessions, for example, the West German and Japanese delegates were chemical industry representatives. But, in 1987, after protracted negotiations, 43 nations signed the Montreal Protocol, agreeing to reduce CFC production by 50 percent by the end of the century. Subsequent ozone depletion led EPA to call for strengthening of the protocol to 100 percent reduction.

Roan concludes by discussing the greenhouse effect, to which CFCs also contribute. The parallel with the ozone crisis is the threat of global climate change, but the problem is more complex since several factors contribute to the greenhouse effect: fossil fuel combustion produces carbon dioxide, another greenhouse gas; and deforestation destroys trees that normally absorb carbon dioxide. These activities take place in developed and developing nations alike, and it is likely that another international agreement will be needed to prevent disaster. While models to predict the extent of global warming are still being refined, greenhouse gases continue to accumulate, setting warming trends in motion. Roan urges that the lessons of the ozone crisis be applied and action taken on the greenhouse effect before clear evidence is in. Those opposed to action, such as the Bush White House, argue that scientific uncertainty may mean that global warming can be mitigated, but they have to acknowledge that uncertainties leave open the possibility that the problem could be worse than expected. In the meantime, actions that could avert global warming, such as more efficient energy use, development of renewable energy alternatives and forest preservation and restoration, would have beneficial environmental and economic effects in their own right.

As a science journalist, Roan is able to explain accurately the complexities of technical controversies. But her narrative tends to drag when she focuses on science, rather than public policy struggles. All the same, she provides a comprehensive chronicle of the ozone depletion issue which is lucid and accessible to a general audience of concerned citizens.

In fact, citizens and governments have found ways to "think globally, act locally" on this issue. Initiatives at state and local levels are not merely symbolic; they can serve as models and harbingers for broader responses. For example, in 1975 the state of Oregon banned the use of CFCs in aerosols; two years later, the U.S. government followed suit. In July 1989, the City Council of Irvine, California implemented stringent controls on CFC production and use. Irvine Mayor Larry Agran endorsed the action, noting, "We are very eager to prod our national government and international bodies to act much more quickly in the face of this global emergency."

In the long-term, the intransigence of the chemical industry on CFCs seems self-defeating. It does not seem logical for companies to pursue a path that may threaten the lives of their consumers and employees, and eventually their own existence. Roan quotes a California disc jockey who makes this point by asking, "Just what planet do they expect to live on?"

The institutional reflex to maximize short-term gain is so deeply engrained that enlightened self-interest is insufficient to produce corporate responsibility. Only governments pushed by concerned citizens can impose the necessary reforms. Increased communications between activists and Green parties everywhere will be necessary to prevent multinational corporations from playing governments off one another. Because pollution transcends national borders, so must environmental politics.

John Abbotts, a research biochemist, has published more than 20 articles on science, technology, and public policy and is co- author with Ralph Nader of The Menace of Atomic Energy (W.W. Norton).