The Death and Life of the Great Lakes

“The folly here is that ballast water isn’t just water. It swarms with perhaps the most potent pollutant there is: DNA.” 

Although water carried through the hulls of overseas ships may not seem like a great threat at first, Egan quickly dispels this notion. The DNA of these non-native creatures arriving on these ships will irrevocably alter the Great Lakes.

“These ships are like syringes.” 

Egan's use of literary devices like simile help illustrate the significant threat that these overseas ships pose to the Great Lakes. Like a syringe, they suck in various sea creatures and then shoot them out into the Great Lakes, changing the landscape. 

“Every time I see one of those pictures, I’m struck with two thoughts: What the hell were they thinking? And more importantly: Is what we are doing to the Great Lakes today going to leave our grandchildren equally baffled?” 

In this passage, Egan describes his dismay at Americans in previous times who discarded buffalo skin like waste until, suddenly, the buffalo were nearly wiped out. This first-person point of view, reminds the reader that the stakes of the pollution of the Great Lakes are personal to the author. Egan also illustrates through this reference to the past that humans possess a similar shortsightedness in our present-day actions on the Great Lakes; future generations may come to regret current wanton destruction. 

“The St. Lawrence Seaway, you see, didn’t conquer nature at all. It unleashed it in the form of an ecological catastrophe unlike any this continent has seen.” 

Egan makes a strong declarative statement that underlines the book’s central argument. Although humans have tried to tame nature through the St. Lawrence Seaway—through the manmade channel that would allow overseas freighters access to the Great Lakes—they have instead brought ruin upon the largest body of freshwater in the U.S.

“It appears the Author of nature, in forming Lake Erie with its large head of waters into a reservoir […] had in prospect a large and valuable canal, connecting the Atlantic and the continued seas, to be completed at some period in the history of man, by his ingenuity and industry!” 

Egan cites a historical quotation demonstrating the potential that few Americans saw in the Great Lakes in the early 1800s—back when constructing a canal on the lakes seemed like a whimsical dream. This quote exemplifies the optimistic that drove America’s expansion into new territories, as well as their fervent belief that nature was designed to enable man’s conquest. 

“Nature has already done most of the work of building that seaway […] Let’s finish the job!” 

This is a quotation from the former U.S. ambassador to Canada in 1939, reflecting his ardent belief that man must build the St. Lawrence Seaway because nature has intended this for America. Another term to express this attitude is manifest destiny, or the God-driven belief that colonists to America were meant to continuously expand across the continent because it was their natural right to do so—regardless of the potential toll on local populations and wildlife.

“‘The thing was built on romantic issues—the fourth seacoast and so on,’ he said. ‘But you can’t romanticize iron ore and wheat.’” 

When the St. Lawrence Seaway was being constructed, its supporters championed the seaway as the fourth seacoast that would vastly expand America’s economic potential and overseas trade. This idealistic expectation was met with the harsh reality that foreign ships were too big to enter the small navigation channel, leaving it better suited for local transportation of more practical commerce like grain. Egan uses this quote to emphasize that ecological decision with far-reaching and often unanticipated consequences are made for idealistic reasons rather than practical ones, and political actions based on these ideals can cause havoc for future generations. 

“A paradise manufactured by man.” 

Although the unnatural introduction of the coho salmon made Lake Michigan a hub for fishermen, Egan tempers the excitement around this new species. As has been alluded in previous quotations, human ability to control the Great Lakes is limited. Sooner or later, this manmade paradise will come crashing down.  

“Do you think he’d say, ‘I could put some cows on that island and shorten that grass?’ […] That is not what he’s going to say. He’s going to say, ‘My God, I can raise more beef than you ever saw in your life.’” 

Howard Tanner—who intended to make Lake Michigan a hub for fishing through the introduction of salmon—justifies the thought process behind expanding salmon hatcheries in the area. Essentially, he says that when humans see an abundance of natural resources, they immediately think of ways to turn that resource into maximum profit rather than preserve it. 

“Don’t tell me the alewife don’t eat the goddamn perch fry […] When the alewife come in, it’s just like a herd of cattle.” 

A commercial fisherman wants to protect the perch fry—a fish native to the Great Lakes—by curtailing the population of alewives, who consume the perch fry. In this passage, the fisherman challenges the idea that alewives are not a predator to the perch fry, demonstrating the threat that these exotic species pose to the local fauna. 

“It does not decay and it does not disperse. It breeds.” 

Egan refers to ship ballast water contaminated with the DNA of invasive species. This passage establishes in succinct terms the grave nature of this threat, which can breed and grow exponentially. 

“‘No,’ she told me. ‘I said “when.” Definitely “when.”’” 

Egan calls back one of the people he has interviewed to confirm whether she said “if” or “when” the next invasive species makes its way to Lake Superior. She confidently chuckles, stating “when” and demonstrating that there is a perennial threat from invasive species so long as overseas freighters are allowed into the Great Lakes. Egan includes this call not only to show his diligence in authenticity of reporting, but to emphasize the immediacy of the problem to readers and incite them to act.

“As in the great Greek myth, the problem started with a box. A box full of fish.” 

Egan refers to the Greek myth of Pandora ’s Box that Pandora opened—despite warnings from the gods—and unleashed terrors upon humanity. This parable highlights the potentially devastating consequences of needless interference; Pandora ’s Box is an allegory for the situation unfolding in the Great Lakes. 

“But as was the case with the earlier canals that opened the Great Lakes to the Atlantic Coast, big enough was never big enough for long.”

In this passage, Egan discusses Chicago’s desire to build ever more—and ever bigger—canals to expand transportation of goods and access to clean drinking water. One canal is never enough, as seen with the Erie Canal. Unregulated capitalism requires a continuous increase in commercial expansion to increase profit, despite any other consequences that may result. 

“It turned out, Chapman explained, that a decade earlier the previous property owner had stocked the tiny pond with a colony of bighead carp, one that had eventually flourished right under the nose of the new owner, who had smelled trouble—but couldn’t see a thing.” 

An owner of a private pond in Michigan was surprised to discover that a large population of Asian carp—put there by the previous owner—had taken residence in his pond and killed off the fish species he was actually trying to harvest. This anecdote underscores how—given the great depth and vastness of the Great Lakes—people may be unaware of the extent of the threat of these invasive species.

“If a 55-gallon barrel of oil was spilled in the lake, people would think, how awful—but you have to remember, you have nothing but 55 gallons. […] But if you just take two mussels and get them together, it can be mussels. Just. Everywhere.”

A biologist for Lake Powell—a body of water struck by a quagga mussel invasion—uses an apt comparison to drive home just how devastating invasive species are to freshwater bodies. While a small oil spill may garner more attention in the media, it can be cleaned up. The same cannot be said for mussels, which continue to breed and expand their habitats at alarming rates.

“It was the exact three-wave invasion sequence that transpired in the Great Lakes—discovery followed by water supply issues and then looming ecological chaos.” 

Egan notes the three-step process by which invasive species wreak havoc on the Great Lakes and other freshwater bodies. By recognizing this pattern, Egan paves the way for a better understanding of how scientists might manage the consequences of these invasions. 

“We live and work and play here. […] Do I really want to do something that will hurt my kids? My grandkids? Of course not. If I could do something and this will stop, yes, I would. But I don’t think we’re the whole problem.” 

In this passage, a farmer defends his use of phosphorous in his agricultural process, even as it seeps into the local water supply. The farmer invokes his personal connection to his family and states that he would not willingly carry on a practice that could harm their local water source. In order to maintain his lack of culpability, the farmer says that there are other factors at play, even though Egan shows that the water issues could largely be traced to the phosphorous used by farmers. This indicates both denial and tragedy of the commons in the Great Lakes tragedy.

“It’s like having a good wife and she either passes away or leaves you. You don’t appreciate her until she’s gone.” 

Although it seems foolish to suggest that the vast Great Lakes could ever run out of water, Egan points to an example of a Tennessee town that has, in fact, run out of water. The residents once hardly thought about water, but now it occupies their daily thoughts, as they must ship it in and restrict their usage. The mayor of this town expressed how much people take water for granted by using this colloquial simile comparing water to a good wife. 

“They don’t think man is too weak to engineer a fix, but they somehow say we’re not responsible for the cause.” 

In this passage, the chairman of the Joint Commission—which commissioned a study on the effects of riverbed dredging in Lake Michigan and Lake Huron—expresses hesitation about halting the man-made dredging process. She believes that people are using the dredging issue as a convenient excuse to ignore how climate change has led to greater evaporation of water from the Great Lakes. She notes the inherent contradictions in people denying their ability to cause climate change while also believing that they have the power to change the environment through dredging.

“If I told them where I was fishing and what I was catching, they’d shake their heads and say: ‘No way Charlie. Stop the bullshitting.’ I mean, that’s how much it’s changed.” 

Egan interviews a commercial fisherman, Charlie Henriksen, who describes how the whitefish population in the lake where he fishes has evolved as the invasive mussel population in the area grows. The farmer imagines the skeptical reactions of retired fishermen in the area were he to tell them about the changes to the lake’s whitefish population. This quotation underscores the limited capacity of the human mind to predict change; people naturally assume things will stay the same, even when history shows otherwise. 

“Here is another way to look at it. Before you start administering chemotherapy to a lung cancer patient who is a lifetime smoker, wouldn’t it be wise to first try to get the patient to stop smoking?” 

The author uses the metaphor of cancer patients to underscore how important it is to treat the underlying issues affecting the Great Lakes—chiefly, the transport of invasive species into the area—rather than just react and try to mitigate the negative effects of these species through poisons and other treatments.

“The idea is that you keep enough alewives so you have a chinook fishery but not so many that you don’t have natural lake trout reproduction. Well, that’s a razor-thin line […] I don’t even know if it’s possible.” 

A biologist with the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service details the delicate balancing act between various species that must be maintained in order to keep all parties—scientists, tourists, commercial fishermen, local government—happy. By his tone, it’s clear that he thinks this is an untenable situation and there will not be a future in which all parties are satisfied about Lake Michigan’s fish population.