[ferro-alloys.com]

  Green evolution

  From the perspective of both miners and lawmakers, you have to imagine the spectre of environmental chaos from mine closures – and, of course, the grim headlines that follow – is prodding change along. In Germany, for example, the Wismut uranium mine left behind over 50 million tonnes of toxic sewage.

  Mismanaged tailings can also cause problems all on their own. Echoing the example of Karamken, a recent study in Alberta, Canada found that disused mines in the province posed a risk to the environment for what is essentially an indeterminate amount of time.

  No wonder, then, that Brock describes the potential negative consequences of mine closures as “significant” to both local communities and the environment at large. Still, if the stick of pollution is one way to understand the increasing interest in mine closures, the carrot of company bottom lines probably matters too.

  On a planet where decent land is increasingly scarce – ScienceDirect estimates there are over a million abandoned mines – companies that thoughtfully redevelop a defunct location could see profits soar. The crucial theory here, Brock notes, is something known in the industry as ‘relinquishment’.

  “This is often the term used to refer to activities that have the possibility of generating income from closure activity,” she says. “And that can help either in terms of facilitating the transfer of the site to a third party, or for relinquishment purposes.”

  Mine closures can leave a positive environmental legacy

  Until it closed in 2001, the Sullivan Mine served as the focal point and income source for an entire town in British Columbia, Canada. At its peak, it employed over 3,500 people in nearby Kimberley – equivalent to nearly half the settlement’s population – and disgorged everything from zinc to lead to iron sulphides.

  Yet as early as the 1960s, Teck, the mine’s owner, was conscious that the boom times couldn’t last forever. Working together with the miners themselves, Teck busied itself for the future by investing heavily in the diversification of Kimberley’s economy – and in 2015 finally announced it was done.

  By any standard, the wait was worthwhile. Boasting a ski hill, a solar power plant, hotels and restaurants, Kimberley is now a thriving and lively tourist town.

  Happily, the experiences of the Sullivan Mine is far from unique. Practically everywhere you look, you can find similar stories of mines reborn.

  A striking example comes from Indonesia. Rather than just turning tail and leaving, PT Newmont transformed a site in North Sulawesi province into a botanical garden, filled with mahogany and teak.

  Brock, for her part, highlights a scheme she’s working on in her native South Africa. “We’re potentially piloting a smallholder agriculture cultural project,” she explains, “which will bring in other stakeholders and local communities, training them to be able to continue agricultural practices on the rehabilitated site.”

  This last point feels especially important. For if these projects are scattered across countries, they’re all intimately linked to the people who actually live nearby. That’s particularly vital, adds Brock, given so many ex-miners come from indigenous communities.

  In the case of Australia, for instance, 3.1% of mine workers belong to the Aboriginal population, compared with 2.5% across the economy at large, according to one University of Queensland report.

  Thoughtful post-life planning for mines can augment the stake such communities have in the land itself. Partnering with local residents can offer practical benefits, too, whether that’s in helping to choose which plants and flowers to reintroduce or in monitoring wildlife numbers.

  In the coalfields of Appalachia, for example, mining interests and environmentalists are working with local hunters to reintroduce thousands of elk.

  New technology is also helping operators in their bid to refine the waste and pollution that is often left behind after the closure of mining sites. Several operators in the US, for instance, are using bacteria bioreactors to make rock and soil less acidic.

  Not that the way forward always has to be so technical. Based in New Zealand, Solid Energy has developed an ingenious way of loading ruined topsoil with nutrients – by taking waste from local toilets.

  Planning is key

  Whatever the technique, Brock and her colleagues at the ICMM are working hard to make the whole process of post-closure restoration far simpler. One recent example is the Closure Maturity Framework, a tool that helps mining companies categorise the status of their sites, and promotes conversation between different strands of a company.

  The point here, adds Brock, is to “have open discussions about what actions need to be implemented to move from A to B”.

  Considering how many mines have been successfully decommissioned over the last few years, might such planning soon become the norm everywhere?

  From a financial perspective, you certainly have to think so. After renovating the Sullivan Mine, for instance, Teck went ahead and acquired the solar power business that was built on the site – and which now generates around C$250,000 in revenue each year.

  With money to be made, Brock is bullish about the decades ahead.

  “Even just in the last ten years, we’ve seen such a big shift in the way mining companies are looking at closure and how they implement it,” she says, adding that all those stricter regulations are helping too.

  “Mining companies are being held responsible for their actions, and if they want to continue operating in the country, they need to ensure that there’s a positive legacy left behind.”

• [Editor:Catherine Ren]