Solar Panel vs. The Sward

Solar energy is a hot topic.  With the state charging ahead to cover between 1,300 and 2,000 acres with collection panels, it becomes necessary to point out once again that industry and government are not required to harvest sunlight. 

First, some praise for panels: They are emission free while they’re operating.  Creation of solar electric infrastructure will provide jobs, because people will have to construct the network.  On a home-scale, solar panels can provide basic electrical service in remote locations.  I use solar powered electric fence chargers when I cannot plug in to a wall, and I think they are spectacular.

The obvious downfall is that the panels are a product of industry.  Someone needs to construct the parts, transport them across the country, build the panel array, maintain the equipment, and dispose of the stuff when it wears out.  Panels are extremely expensive; a friend in Vermont told me he was considering a 30 year loan to put solar collectors on his roof.  I gagged.  What concerns me the most about the industrial solar discussion is that it leaves proponents with a sense of finality: Switch to solar power, and, ta-daa, we’re good!

Whenever the popular opinion becomes that fixated on an objective, I analyze it with my ‘reality factor’: Is this something that, left alone, will develop naturally?  Or are we creating elaborate frameworks to force something into existence to make ourselves feel better? 

This plan feels forced.  There is way too much politicking involved with the process for the initiative to make any sense.  It’s an elaborate measure to make it look like someone is doing something about energy consumption.

There is a more efficient, less disruptive solar economy that remains buried under the radar. 

Vegetation is the world’s most perfect solar collector.  Without a single manufactured part, grass captures sunlight and stores it in a physical form.  Grass respects the unending cycle of growth, death, decay, and regrowth that completely eliminates a need for disposal of worn out parts.  Grassland is an environment, and environments support life.

The problem with grassland is that using it doesn’t really feel like we’re doing anything.  Imagine how people would react if Governor Wolf announced that the state had planted a couple thousand acres of grass instead of constructing as many acres of solar panels.  There would’ve been an audible “WHAT??” echoing across the commonwealth.  Even his most die-hard supporters would’ve laughed him off the podium.

Using grass to harvest energy, stabilize the environment, and create jobs is not a joke.

Unlike annual crops, which flourish throughout the growing season and die at the end of it, grass cover remains intact throughout the entire year.  Because the sward is always present, solar energy collected during the summer is stored like a battery for use during winter months.  As the soil battery charges, the same piece of land will support more life.  We can harvest the energy and convert it into useable form with livestock.  The solar energy represented in the form of meat, milk, fiber, and leather won’t charge a Tesla, but it will power a person. When dollars are exchanged for that human power, it assigns measurable value to the energy that was collected by the grass and converted by the animals.

Nobody talks about solar power without mentioning reduced emissions in relation to climate change.  Reducing emissions is a good thing, certainly, but that’s all a solar panel can do.  Grass, managed properly, will pull tremendous quantities of carbon back out of the air and lock it into the soil.  Grassland heals the water cycle, which is so totally abused that our weather events consist of drought and flood, but nothing else.  And grass reestablishes the nutrient cycle, bringing fertility and fecundity back to the landscape.  When addressing the climate, is it better to spend billions combating one single factor, or to realize true environmental healing by simply adjusting our interactions with what currently exists?

Finally, jobs.  Society associates a pastoral lifestyle with ancient people strolling around in robes, but I can say with certainty that a life in relation to the landscape overflows with occupational opportunities.  Young people are losing faith in technological fixes as infrastructure replaces reality, and then infrastructure fails.  This sets the stage for a new generation to accept a lower income in exchange for a meaningful, sensible life.  Solar construction will provide a boost to the energy companies who employ laborers; realizing the value of opportunities that exist in association with grassland management will repopulate landscapes with stewards who create and deploy meaningful goods and services.

Constructing elaborate solar infrastructure does not address the issue of consumption.  If people are concerned about their impact on the earth, the solution is not to build more stuff; rather, it’s to stop using stuff.  I’m afraid we’re fixated on finding a way to continue consuming instead of relaxing the rigorous pursuit of more.  Grassland is a complete solar economy that will function in the absence of politics and rigid infrastructure.  It isn’t as flashy as a multi-million dollar budget, and that is why it holds so much potential.  If we’re willing to give up on life’s unnecessary luxuries, we’ll curb the impact of consumption.  If we’re willing to direct the saved luxury dollars into a grassland economy, we’ll harness the abundance of solar energy.

By shifting our preferences and practices, we the people can change the economy of our communities while the officials speak tirelessly into empty cameras. Someone should measure the emissions from that hot air.