When you find yourself mining lemons

Looking at the world through the wrong end of the binoculars, as I often do, induces me to conclude that Alaska's mining industry is in a major state of disarray.

Consider the evidence: There is a huge investment into the country for the purpose of developing our vast resource base; one-third of Alaska, an area approximately the size of California, is owned by the state and is generally open to resource development; our mineral resources are diverse, accessible, and by most accounts untapped; modern mining is safe and is characterized by high-paying local jobs, often in remote locations; mining is environmentally-friendly with an impeccable track record for regulatory compliance and reclamation; the University of Alaska at Fairbanks has a phenomenal program for training engineers and geologists to work in the industry; the economic contribution of mining in Alaska credibly rivals fishing in value and has greater potential for expansion; and the Alaska Miners Association, the industry's primary voice, has earned a strong reputation for credibility as a lobbying force and a spokesman for our many mining interests.

On the other hand, the industry is plagued by critics, from "nimbies" (people who say "not in my backyard") to environmentalists, who stand in line to throw stones; skilled and qualified workers are in short supply and high demand; service equipment from cats and drills to helicopters are difficult to secure; UAF programs go begging for students; the popular attitude about mining is lukewarm at best; and ignorance about the contribution of mining to the community is rampant.

What brought this reality home to me recently was a presentation by an ISER economist to a meeting of the Alaska Chapter of the Society of Mining Engineers wherein it was disclosed that the presenter was really quite unfamiliar with mining and really was a fisheries expert. In preparing his talk, he drew on published data from the Alaska Departments of Labor and Commerce (or whatever it's called this week) which reflected wildly different data about Alaska's mining industry.

There apparently is no mining expert in ISER. Not only is no one there to coordinate the data, there apparently isn't any reliably accumulated data available.

Among the university, the industry, the State's several interested trade and labor associations; the State of Alaska and its Departments of Natural Resources; Commerce, Labor and Revenue, the Alaska Minerals Commission; and the media, there ought to be some overriding forum for communication and coordination.

While companies for reasons of competition traditionally pull in different directions on specific issues, the future health of the State depends on our ensuring that this sector of the economy doesn't wither and lag.

The incessant common refrain is that our message is not getting out. There are many, many people involved in the mining industry that are carrying the banner, but they have yet to gain the traction they are due.

Mining suffers from being invisible. If is often difficult for civilians to get onsite at an operating mine, both because of insurance considerations and the remoteness of mine locations. The product generated is not consumer-ready. You cannot go to Safeway and get half a pound of gold coins for the garden. There are very few zinc stations in the Anchorage metropolitan area. On the other hand, try to build a house without copper or light up your life without electricity from a coal-fired generation plant.

The good news is that we have five working mines in the state and perhaps there will be five more within our lifetimes; but the bad news is that we cannot assume robustness. Mining needs coordination and support from many quarters. It behooves us all to ensure it is forthcoming. We need to pay heed; let's make lemonade.