Josh Ellis, AM'06
Swimming Upstream
Can Asian carp inspire long-term solutions to Chicago’s most pressing water problems?
There’s been a lot of harping about Asian carp ever since they started forging up the Illinois River, dodging electric barriers and some 2,200 gallons of toxic chemicals, toward Lake Michigan. In late 2009, researchers found traces of their DNA in a Chicago harbor near the lake, sparking outrage from neighboring states over concerns that “voracious invasive species” will soon inundate one of the most valuable aquatic regions in the United States.
Next came the legal challenge over whether Chicago should be forced to temporarily close the locks leading to its waterways—denied twice by the Supreme Court. The ongoing debate pits the vitality of the city’s freight and tourism traffic against a cancerous threat to the largest fresh water resource in the world, leaving little room for compromise.
And yet, Josh Ellis, AM’06, says there are bigger fish to fry. As a program associate with the Metropolitan Planning Council (MPC), a 75-year-old NGO focused on public policy in the Chicago region, he’s been delivering lectures across the city that urge policymakers to seek long-term solutions that address a host of other water management issues like quality treatment, possible supply shortages, storm water management, waterborne freight, and protection from future invasive species along the way.
“Think beyond the carp as we think about the carp,” one of his PowerPoint slides read during a recent presentation at the Shedd Aquarium. The phrase may invoke the tautological witticism of Yogi Berra, but Ellis’s message is steeped in big-picture analysis and confidence in 21st Century technology. “A short-term solution will dampen the flames and calm people down,” he admits. “But that can’t be it. Closing the locks might keep the fish out, maybe, but it would do nothing for the sustainability of the region’s water supply or improving our transportation systems.”
Ellis grew up in Brentwood, New Hampshire, where his father led the local conservation commission. “As a kid I drank a lot of water and breathed a lot of air,” he jokes to explain the inevitability of his interest in environmental issues. Years later, he got a master’s degree at the University of Chicago, merging environmental policy at the Harris School of Public Policy Studies with an understanding of Mesopotamian river politics at the Center for Middle Eastern Studies. He now uses this combination of history and innovation at MPC—most recently collaborating on legislation with Illinois State Senator Susan Garrett. The forthcoming bill would make it easier to harvest rain water in underground cisterns and use it for “non-potable uses” like flushing toilets, which makes up 20 to 30 percent of all household water consumption, he explains.
Perhaps storm water isn’t as exciting as invasive species, but Ellis says it’s just as important to Chicago and long-term vitality of Lake Michigan. According to a 200-page report released by the Chicago Metropolitan Agency for Planning in March, the City of Chicago’s Department of Water Management currently supplies more than 5 million people in 125 different municipalities with water from Lake Michigan. Using data collected in 2008, the organization predicts that shrinking aquifers and a booming Cook County population could cause demand for water to increase as much as 64 percent by 2050, putting a strain on the region’s water supply.
Meanwhile, Chicago isn’t utilizing its massive accumulation of storm water, which currently enters the sewer system and exits the city. In 2005, that storm water averaged some 588 million gallons a day—twice as much as the Chicago’s suburban areas extract from dwindling underground aquifers today, Ellis says. “We’re almost literally flushing it down the toilet,” he insists. “We still have the 1900 system, but now we have 2010 goals. It’s time to rethink how we do things.”
That system was created more than a century ago when Chicago reversed its rivers by creating canals to carry its sewage away from Lake Michigan—the same canals where Asian carp were recently discovered. Water treatment technology has changed dramatically since then. Still, Chicago is currently the largest, if not only, city in the region that doesn’t return its treated water back to the Great Lakes.
Because the Chicago region takes water out of the Great Lakes basin without replenishing it, the U.S. Supreme Court capped the amount Illinois could divert each year. Over the next few decades, Ellis says growing demand may reach that limit, putting the area at a competitive disadvantage for attracting businesses and residents while maintaining healthy ecosystems. Updating the city’s treatment process, re-reversing its rivers where feasible, and planning for the future by recycling the city’s water supply could solve this problem before it starts, he adds.
What does that have to do with Asian carp? By eliminating the need to send sewage away from the city, Ellis says Chicago might be able to construct physical barriers that keep unwanted fish and other future invasive species at bay. “There are still a thousand details to work out, but we reversed the river once, we can come up with engineering solutions to solve all of these problems at the same time,” he explains, adding that strategically located boat lifts or intermodal facilities could mitigate negative effects on shipping and tourism traffic.
Over the coming months, Ellis will be working with other nonprofits and government partners to brainstorm more substantial plans and incentives to win over local, state, and national leaders. And he’ll need all the help he can get. The endeavor would be expensive at best and potentially unpopular in a state where budget deficits and upcoming elections are on everyone’s mind.
Still, Ellis says the carp controversy could work in his favor if he can find a way to shift the dialogue toward long-term lake conservation. “Not too many folks are looking at all the whole picture, and it’s my job to get people talking about more than just Asian carp,” he says. “I believe we can do it, now we just have to do it.”
By Steven Yaccino
