View of the Porcupine Mountains in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan. (Photo: Sol Anzorena)

Did you know that there are still pure night skies, pristine lakes and streams, and vast old-growth forests to be found in the USA, all without leaving Central Standard Time? I didn’t until just a few years ago when I moved to the Upper Peninsula (UP), Michigan. Now I am fortunate to call my neighbors Lake Superior — the largest freshwater sea on Earth — as well as Porcupine Mountains Wilderness State Park, the largest tract of mixed coniferous-deciduous old growth forest remaining in the Midwest, recently ranked as the most beautiful State Park in the country.

Having grown up a ways to the south, I know too well the spiritual shortcomings of concrete and cornfields. In my hometown, the color “green” was defined by the suburban lawn, and counting the stars in the sky required the use of both hands and a few toes. But this upbringing was the perfect apprenticeship for learning to love Nature as only a city kid can. Don’t get me wrong, human civilization is incredible, but as the City sprawls and roads branch into more roads, the wild places of the world take on ever greater value. That’s why areas like the Porcupine Mountains are so important: thirty-five thousand acres of primeval forest preserved in a virgin state, not as a museum, but as a living temple with doors flung wide to hikers, campers, foragers, fishers, and anyone needing to rediscover what it means to be a human animal. Folks flock here not just from Michigan, but from all over the country, even all over the world, especially in autumn when the fall colors provide a drug-free psychedelic experience.

Lake Superior — or Gichigami, as the Anishinaabe call her — is a mighty spirit. She has cast a forcefield around the Upper Midwest, protecting it from development by bestowing us with atrocious farming soil, and indeed I have dented my shovel trying to dig a four-inch hole. But this is where the plot thickens. Because Lake Superior’s protection is not absolute, and rich geology doesn’t just attract agate hunters…

It also brings mines.

Copperwood: The wrong job at the wrong place in the wrong hands

For over a decade, a Canadian company named Highland Copper has been planning a copper sulfide mine at the heart of this majestic area. The Copperwood Mine would be a 15-second drive to Porcupine Mountains State Park— so close that, since the Department of Natural Resources (DNR) doesn’t own the mineral rights, Highland Copper is hoping to mine underneath Park property.

Map from G Mining Services, Feasibility Study Update, Copperwood Project, Michigan, USA (April 2023).

The mining infrastructure would also be a literal stone’s throw from the North Country Trail, the longest of all national hiking trails, just recently incorporated into the National Park Service. Perhaps most alarmingly, Copperwood would be in extreme proximity to Lake Superior. As this company map clearly indicates, the highest-grade copper is closest to the lakeshore; Highland Copper plans to mine up to 100 feet from the coast and has even expressed interest in mining beneath the Lake itself (see part 16.2.12).

Historically, the Upper Peninsula had the purest copper in the world, with ore grades measuring up to 99 percent. This “native copper” fueled a transcontinental copper trade thousands of years ago, all the way up to the modern mines of the 19th century. But that copper is gone, and what remains is of an increasingly marginal quality. In fact, Copperwood would not be mining copper at all, but chalcocite (copper sulfide), with a grade of only 1.45 percent. That means that for every ton of extracted material, only 30 pounds will be copper and 1970 pounds will be waste, loaded with toxic heavy metals, requiring on-site storage, forever, in something called a Tailings Disposal Facility (TDF).

The TDF for the proposed mining project is the largest structure shown on this map. (Map source: G Mining Services, Feasibility Study Update, Copperwood Project, Michigan, USA [April 2023].)

TDFs are among the most massive structures on Earth. Copperwood’s would measure 323 acres wide and 171 feet high — that’s 244 football fields of waste stacked 20 feet taller than the Statue of Liberty from toes to torch tip. This thing would tower over the landscape and be visible from scenic overlooks miles away (see comment 35). But most importantly, the facility would be erected on topography sloping towards Lake Superior, less than two miles downstream.

Without entering too deeply into the science, recent disasters in Brazil (2019) and Canada (2014) reveal that TDFs are far from invincible. Moreover, a 2015 study published by Earthworks argues that the risk of rupture is actually increasing, specifically due to the unwieldy quantity of waste created by marginal mines like Copperwood. But even assuming the dam holds, copper sulfide mines inevitably contaminate through other means. And who would we be entrusting with this most dubious of operations? A company with a negative environmental track record and zero on-paper mining experience.

Lake Superior represents ten percent of the Earth’s surface freshwater. As we come to live on a hotter, drier planet — with many cities forced to ship in water from hundreds of miles away — protecting the Big Lake should be of highest international priority.

In addition, an operating mine in the heart of a thriving recreation area will not go unnoticed by outdoor enthusiasts. Noise pollution, light pollution, and heavy industrial traffic: none of these influences would politely halt at property borders, but instead would radiate in all directions, disrupting the serenity of wildlife and human visitors alike. In a February 4th interview (7:50) Highland Copper stated for the first time that they will take measures to reduce light and noise pollution, showing that public pressure has already made an impact, but concerns remain: Will they deliver on promises made during the investment pitch? And how successfully can one contain the ruckus of rock-grinding, subterranean blasting, and mining trucks careening along the border of the largest designated Wilderness Area in mainland Michigan?

Copperwood would also require a 25-mile power grid expansion. Although the mine itself will board up shop in a mere eleven years, once the grid rolls out it will provide the foundation for ongoing development for decades to come. But “development” is a suspect term for what would take place, for aren’t forests already highly developed in ways we are just beginning to appreciate? So often words are masks concealing their exact opposites; for example, would building a mine on top of 57 acres of wetlands (part 20.1.4) more accurately be described as “construction” or “destruction”? We must be vigilant against allowing language to be hijacked in the name of dead dollars rather than Life, or for the abstract “growth” of the economy rather than the real and true growth of Nature. Always remember: were it not for humans daring to play with words in the name of greater values, your favorite National Park would surely be listed as “vacant land” on any real estate website.

The pattern is clear yet hard to track, for the obliteration of Nature does not take place overnight, nor even over a lifetime. We should all familiarize ourselves with Shifting Baseline Syndrome — the process of Nature degrading at such a slow pace that it goes unnoticed until, decades later, someone looks back and says, “Hey… what happened to all the birds?”

So if we don’t draw a line in the sand now, eventually there may not be much left to draw a line around.

A cost-benefit analysis a child can understand (but perhaps not a CEO…)

This is not about questioning the mining industry in principle. Obviously, minerals are the cornerstone (pun intended) of modern civilization, and these technologies through which we are now communicating would not be possible without them. But location is not irrelevant. Just as one would not propose a prison next to a preschool, we should not entertain developing a sulfide mine at the juncture of a freshwater sea, an old-growth forest, and a historic hiking trail.

Such an operation should only be considered for the most pressing of life-or-death reasons. But according to the US Geological Survey (USGS), copper is not even a “critical mineral”— the USA exports ten times as much as it imports, so there is no urgent need for more. Meanwhile, in the 21st century, is there anything scarcer than access to pristine wilderness? A good view of the stars? An uncontaminated stream?

Copperwood would be an eleven-year boom-and-bust operation which may not even benefit the local economy in the long term. Thus, a cursory cost-benefit analysis must conclude that it is simply not worth it.

As our petition shows, 12,000 people agree with this message. That may not be a lot for New York City, but for a remote area where nobody lives within a five mile radius, it’s quite a statement: 12,000 is more than the populations of the closest three towns combined.

Weave it into action!

Copperwood has failed to manifest for over a decade, and to this day, Highland Copper still lacks over 90% of their necessary start-up capital. But on January 30, we learned that the State of Michigan is considering providing a $50 million grant. Not only would this more than double the company’s bank account, but an official State endorsement could trigger an avalanche of fresh investment, potentially resulting in this nightmare finally coming to fruition. From a free market perspective, one might argue that the company has the legal right to pursue this project, but the more relevant question is: should Michigan be using taxpayer dollars to help them?

Hope, however, is not lost: multiple Michigan Strategic Fund board members expressed doubts regarding the wisdom of the grant, and so the vote has been deferred to a later date, potentially as soon as the next MSF meeting on February 27th.*

This is a make-or-break moment. A rejection of the grant would send a powerful message to Highland Copper’s investors. So we are calling on anyone who cares about freshwater seas, old-growth forests, and the right of humans to enjoy a moment of peace in Nature, to join us in solidarity as we tell Michigan: no, we do not support the subsidizing of 30+ million tons of toxic waste on the shore of ten percent of the world’s surface freshwater.

On our Call to Action page you will find a few simple steps you can take today, at this very moment, which could have a real impact on the fate of some of the last wild areas remaining in the Midwest.

The value of the great unmined

I said earlier that so much wilderness has survived in the UP because of bad farmland. That’s not entirely true. Where the plow fails, the ax prevails, and logging is big up here. So it was not just rocky soil which saved the Porkies: it was we humans. To quote the activist-naturalist Aldo Leopold:

“The Porcupine Mountains are more than timber; they are a symbol. They portray a chapter in national history which we should not be allowed to forget. When we abolish the last sample of the Great Uncut, we are, in a sense, burning books.”

The premise of “the Great Uncut” is that there is tremendous value in leaving Nature alone. By not doing a thing, profitable though it may be, we show that we have restraint— and isn’t placing limitations on what we’ll consider doing, in the name of a higher ideal, a pretty good definition of morality? So if we extract every ounce of copper regardless of the location and impact on the surrounding land and water, it shows we have no limits, and thus we are amoral.

Rather than allow our species to sink to such depths, let us consult the wisdom of the Anishinaabe who have cared for this patch of Earth since time immemorial. According to the Seventh Generation principle, we must make no decision regarding collective resources without first considering how it will affect our great-grandchild’s great-great grandchild.

When that child comes of age, will they judge us based on how much of some rock we managed to wrench from the ground? No: they will judge us based on the health of the air they’re breathing, the integrity of the water they’re drinking, and the majesty of the forest still standing.

So again, please join us— if not for yourself, then for those who come next.

*2/27/2024 Author's note: The Copperwood grant will not be voted on at the February 27th board meeting. The Michigan Strategic Fund Administrator has informed us it will "most likely be considered at the March 26th meeting." This gives the readers of this article more time to sign and share the petition, contact the Governor, and submit a public comment directly to the Michigan Strategic Fund. More than anything, we ask that you spread the word: freshwater seas, old-growth forest, and the right of humans to enjoy a moment of peace in Nature are all resources of international importance.