Water consumption is increasing at a rate of 120 million cubic meters per year and the island’s overtapped, polluted waterways cannot keep up. Building new reservoirs or finding new ground water pools is no longer the answer. Scientists warn of grim prospects for cultivating new water sources. The only answer is better management of the resources at hand. That means reforesting slope lands to stop erosion, and monitoring farms and factories to enforce pollution and water conservation laws. These problems can no longer be ignored or put off.
From a distance, Linpien village looks like most other fish-farming communities in southern Taiwan. There are no high-rises, few houses, and few people. The low, flat landscape is broken up mainly by small ponds linked together by dirt roads. But up close, something is not quite normal. The homes amid the ponds are sinking. Some two-story buildings have become one-story buildings, their front gates completely swallowed up. In other areas, the earth has sunk to below sea level, leaving roads and gravesites submerged under several feet of water.
The whole village has been slowly sinking for the past six or seven years—up to two and a half meters in the worst areas. The cause? All those ponds. Ever since the aquaculture industry boomed in southern Taiwan in the mid-1980s, Linpien farmers have been illegally pumping ground water to supply their fish and shrimp ponds. Although farmers can apply for the right to use ground water, in Linpien, it wasn’t long before far more was being pumped than the government had approved. In fact, more water was being removed than was naturally replenished. The result is now obvious.
The problem is not unique to Linpien. Many towns along the central west coast, as well as the Taipei basin in the north and the area near the east coast city of Ilan, are in a similar predicament. Ground water has become a crucial resource, since surface water supplies only 60 percent of the island’s water needs. But this resource is being vastly over-pumped. Each year,
about 4 billion cubic meters of water seep into the aquifer naturally while more than 7 billion cubic meters are pumped out. In some areas, the aquifer has become so depleted that sea water has seeped in, exacerbating the problem of rapidly diminishing round water sources.
“Ground water is a good source of water supply when it is managed soundly,” says Wu Chian-min (吳建民), chairman of the Water Resources Planning Commission (WRPC) of the Ministry of Economic Affairs (MOEA). “But people have been overusing and illegally using it. This has brought serious consequences.” Although regulatory agencies are aware that many farms and industries are ignoring restrictions on ground water use, officials have not made it a high priority to find and punish violators. The result? A comparison with a 1994 United Nations survey on water resources shows that Taiwan ranks second only to Libya in overuse of ground water.
These examples of increasingly depleted ground water are only one indication of Taiwan’s water crisis. In fact, the other primary sources of water—rivers and reservoirs—are also being overused and polluted. The main culprits are high water use among the island’s rice and vegetable farmers, increasing industrial use, and growing needs of the 21 million population.
Sinking feeling-Roads, homes, and even gravesites in the coastal town of Linpien are sinking because fish farmers are overpumping the ground water.
While man is indisputably the culprit in overusing Taiwan’s water, nature has not made it easy to collect and store precipitation. The first problem is Taiwan’s mountainous geography. When rain hits the rugged Central Range, which covers two-thirds of the island’s land mass, it rushes down the mountains in short, steep rivers that take most of the rainfall out to sea. Even with a network of reservoirs around the island, only about one-fifth of the yearly rainfall can be collected and stored. Thus, each resident has an annual water supply of 856 cubic meters. When compared with the U.N. survey, this figure gives the island the eighteenth most serious water shortage in the world. Per capita, Taiwan has only 20 percent the water supply of nearby Japan.
Weather is another problem. With Taiwan’s average annual rainfall of 250 centimeters, two and a half times the worldwide average, it is surprising that the island ever experiences water shortages. But it does, nearly every winter. Seasonal weather patterns divide sharply into rainy and dry periods. Nearly 80 percent of the annual precipitation falls between May and October—half a year of heavy rains, often punctuated by typhoons and floods, followed by half a year of drought.
New reservoirs used to be the answer to all water needs. No more. Good construction sites are now scarce.
The brief but powerful rainy periods are often dangerous, says Hsu Shiang-kueen (徐享崑), director of MOEA’s Water Resources Department. Nearly every year, during the May “plum rains” and the July-to-September typhoon season, some part of the island suffers from floods. “There are ways to deal with water shortages, such as rationing,” Hsu says. “But floods are difficult to predict and cause property damage or even loss of life.”
The wet and dry seasons are even more dramatic in the south, where the six-month dry period often brings only 10 percent of the annual rainfall, leaving parched fields and dwindling reservoirs. In recent years, the seasonal water shortages have become more severe, as the water reserves that usually carry Taiwan through its droughts have become polluted or overused. Last year, the crucial May-to-July rainy season was the driest in forty years. By mid-summer, most reservoirs were drying up and water use had to be rationed or reduced islandwide. Electrical power was also affected, since 13 percent of Taiwan’s electricity comes from hydropower. Last year’s drought was the first to affect the industrial and residential water supply islandwide.
A garbage skimmer on the Tamsui River-Rivers have long been used as dumping grounds for untreated agricultural, industrial, and residential waste.
Even the northernmost port of Keelung, known as the Rain Port, suffered. City residents have long counted on the area’s average annual rainfall of more than 330 centimeters to keep them safe from drought. But last year, Keelung received only 45 centimeters of rain during the vital spring rainy season. In fact, throughout 1993, instead of the usual 220 days of rain, the city had only 167 rainy days. By the end of the summer, its two main reservoirs had diminished to the point where the water was no longer acceptable for residential use. In September, three navy vessels had to bring in fresh water from other reservoirs.
“Residents in some areas didn’t get a drop of tap water for more than ten days,” recalls Keelung resident Kao Tung-han ( 高東漢). “Some of them escaped to friends’ or relatives’ homes in other cities, but those who had to stay really suffered.” The local government called on city residents to cut their water use in half, allowing families to use tap water only every other day. But because people simply stored water for the non-use days, total water consumption only dropped by 10 percent. The situation became so serious by early fall that the mayor of Keelung hosted a public rally to pray for heavy rain.
Anti-pollution laws have been in place for decades, but have been weakly enforced. The government has recently established investigation teams and increased punishment.
While the drought in northern and central Taiwan eased after several heavy rains this past winter, the situation in the south has remained serious. By May, navy vessels began shipping water to the south, and some climatologists are concerned that this will be another tough summer.
Adding to already difficult natural constraints on the water supply, water consumption is increasing faster than new sources can be developed. While 16.6 billion cubic meters of water were used in Taiwan in 1981, the amount rose to 19.2 billion cubic meters in 1991.
Who’s to blame? Many industrialists point to the agricultural sector because between 75 and 80 percent of Taiwan’s annual water consumption goes toward agricultural use, including livestock raising and aquaculture. The rest is divided between residences and industries. But farmers stress that their water needs are fed by a source—river water—not usable for homes and factories, which must draw water from reservoirs and ground water. Therefore, they say, farming does not compete with residential and industrial water use. In addition, annual agricultural water use has remained stable over the past two decades, while residential and industrial water consumption are increasing at a combined rate of 120 million cubic meters per year.
For generations, reservoirs have been the primary supplier of water to homes and factories. But the water quality in reservoirs is deteriorating because of increased soil runoff, pollution, and eutrophication—extensive growth of algae that depletes oxygen sources, leaving a water system “dead.” Building new reservoirs no longer provides an easy answer to water shortages. Plans for new sites invariably meet with opposition from environmentalists and area residents. And because Taiwan is divided between a rugged mountain range and highly developed coastal areas (with some of the world’s highest population densities), there are few suitable locations for these huge construction projects.
The 1993 drought brought new resolve from government agencies and private environmental groups to find alternatives to reservoirs. Since last summer, several large-scale conferences have been held on solving the water resource crisis. Although proposals vary widely between groups, everyone agrees that Taiwan should improve management of its existing resources. One of the most outspoken environmental groups is the Taipei-based, 1,200-memberTaiwan Environmental Protection Union. The group was influential in promoting the Soil and Water Conservation Law, approved in May, which increases the fines for misuse or overuse of water and adds a possible jail term for violators.
Many government officials also feel that improved management of existing water sources is the best, and perhaps the only, course of action. “Good management is as effective as building reservoirs,” says Hsu Shiang-kueen of the Water Resources Department. “It is also cheaper and avoids all the side effects.” More usable water can be collected by monitoring water pollution more effectively, or by better managing the development of upstream forest and slope lands.
But water management is off to a late start. The first obstacle to overcome is the serious lack of information on water resources. “People have brought up ideas for water resource management in conferences and seminars,” says Kuo Jan-tai (郭振泰), a professor of civil engineering at National Taiwan University, “but without actual statistics, these ideas can’t be carried out.” Kuo says a complete database must be established.
Another problem is that law enforcement has been spotty. To address this need, in 1993 the Water Resources Department began using a National Science Council satellite previously used for aeronautic testing and in geographical surveys. The satellite is now being tested to detect hard-to-find water use violators such as factories with illegal wells, or farmers overdrawing water to supply their aquaculture ponds. If the test run succeeds, the program will be expanded in 1995. Hsu is already optimistic. “The system is not only very helpful in establishing an accurate water resources database,” he says, “it will also save a lot of manpower, both in collecting data and in enforcing the laws.”
The other side of the resource management equation is controlling water use. The government must balance pressure from agricultural, industrial, and residential use in the face of diminishing resources. Many businesspeople complain that farmers enjoy free use of water while industries must pay NT$10.5 (39 cents) per cubic meter. They argue that the current water use system does not make economic sense.
Wu Chian-min of the WRPC points out that while the petrochemical industry uses 1,125 cubic meters of water to generate NT$1 million, the aquaculture industry needs 86,000 cubic meters and rice farmers need 270,000 cubic meters to generate the same amount of money. In fact, agriculture contributes only 3.5 percent of Taiwan’s GNP, a fraction of what various manufacturing industries contribute. But farmers counter that the amount of water they use each year is gauged by that year’s rainfall, with a certain percentage of fields left fallow depending on the river flow available. In addition, a portion of farm water seeps into the soil and is recycled.
Finding the correct balance between the three main water consumption groups has been a daunting task for the government because so many different agencies are involved. Officials agree action must be taken, but these agencies often do not work together well.
All water resources are overseen by the MOEA, with the Water Resources Department setting policy and the WRPC overseeing water management such as construction of reservoirs and use of ground water. But many other agencies are also involved. Consider any river in Taiwan for instance. Water use is managed by three provincial government agencies: the upper stream mountain region by the Taiwan Forestry Bureau, the middle section by the Soil and Water Conservation Bureau, and the lower stream by the Water Conservancy Bureau.
But none of these organizations has jurisdiction over controlling and monitoring pollution in the river. This is monitored by the central government’s Environmental Protection Administration as well as the local Environmental Protection bureaus. These agencies must work with other government organizations, such as the Industrial Development Bureau in cases of industrial pollution, or the provincial Department of Agriculture and Forestry for handling land use issues. Meanwhile, the cultivation of slope lands surrounding the river is approved by the Ministry of the Interior for construction projects, and the Ministry of Education for recreational projects.
Some government responsibilities over rivers overlap or clash with private groups. For example, two dams on the same river may be managed by two different organizations, the provincial government and a private farmers’ association. “When too many agencies work on the same issue, it is difficult to divide responsibilities clearly,” says Lee Hsiu-jung (李秀容), executive secretary of the Taiwan Environmental Protection Union. “The result is no management at all.”
Professor Kuo Jan-tai points out that the current system causes frequent conflicts between agencies. For example, the Ministry of the Interior may want to develop a tract of slope lands, but the soil and water conservation agencies will try to block development. Such conflicts can render conservation and environmental protection agencies ineffective if pitted against more powerful pro-development departments. “Agencies with more political power usually win,” Kuo says.
Some government officials and private sector environmentalists are pushing to establish an umbrella organization with more manpower and authority to oversee water resource management. But Wu Chian-min of the WRPC stresses that some degree of specialization among different government departments is necessary. “Managing water resources is a very complicated problem that requires highly specific knowledge,” he says. “It is natural to divide the work and responsibilities between experts in different agencies.” Wu points out that advanced countries such as Japan and the United States also use this approach. “The key is good coordination among all these agencies,” he says, “and that is something we have to work on.”
Hsu Shiang-kueen, who became department director of the Water Resources Department in August 1993, admits that the government does not yet have a clear, comprehensive water management policy. Developing such a plan is one of his most urgent tasks. The plan is scheduled to be released by the end of this year.
As the government struggles to collect data, formulate management policies, and improve enforcement, success will hinge on cooperation from water consumers. Water conservation and protection laws have been in place for decades, but have largely been ignored by farms and industries. Two main laws govern water use. The first, the 1942 Water Law, sets priorities for water use. Under revisions passed in 1983, the order of preference is given first to residences, then to agricultural, hydropower, industrial, navigation, and other uses. The second, the 1994 Soil and Water Conservation Law, addresses water misuse and overuse.
But enforcing these laws often requires reversing generations of tradition. Consider management of the mountain forests, the source of all of the island’s rivers. Nearly 1 million hectares of slope land, or 28 percent of the total surface area of the island, consists of mountain terrain standing one hundred to one thousand meters high. For decades, much of this land has been used illegally for agricultural, recreational, or residential purposes, leading to widespread erosion and pollution. “We are aware of the problem,” says Yu Chia-shing (余嘉雄), deputy director of the Soil and Water Conservation Bureau. “But we just don’t have the manpower, money, or authority to deal with it.”
This million-hectare area is divided into 1,850 sections patrolled by 1,900 investigators, each responsible for more than 500 hectares of forest. Travel is difficult, as most areas lack paved roads. And until this spring, even if a water-use violator was caught, the maximum fine was only NT$ I 5,000 (US$555)-and no jail term. “There are big profits in illegally using slope lands,” Yu says. “They didn’t even feel such a small fine.” Under the new Soil and Water Conservation Law, the maximum penalty was raised to a fine of NT$1 million (US$37,000) and twelve years in prison. “We hope that will scare off some illegal land users,” Yu says.
Former government policies are part of the problem. In the 1960s, the Mountain Agricultural Resources Development Bureau (now the Soil and Water Conservation Bureau) began encouraging farmers to cultivate slope lands to grow high-value fruits, vegetables, and tea. The program offered technical assistance and low interest loans for farmers before being gradually phased out in recent years.
The government has now switched to encouraging farmers to reforest slope lands, but the impact has been limited. Yu Chia-shing believes most farmers realize the importance of soil and water conservation but are reluctant to grow a product that brings in far less revenue. For every hectare of land used to grow trees, farmers receive only NT$30,000 (US$1,100) from the government when their seedlings grow to a height signifying a successful planting—usually every six years or so. Although the government is going to increase the money to NT$150,000 (US$5,550) every six years, growing fruit, tea, or vegetables still brings many times the profits. “These people live on products from the land,” Yu says. “It’s difficult to ask them to put soil and water conservation first when there are serious economic considerations.”
Compliance with such bitter-pill laws seems to be the only method available in maintaining existing water sources. Because large-scale projects such as building reservoirs and revising the water management system will take years to implement, the government is concentrating on reducing industrial and residential water use. The industrial water use charge ofNT$10.5 per cubic meter is one method. To avoid this charge, some large industries have invested in equipment to reduce water use.
The best example is the government-operated China Steel Corp. (csc), Taiwan’s largest manufacturer of steel products. The company requires 5 million cubic meters of water daily, but meets its needs by drawing only 110,000 cubic meters, then reusing this water many times. csc started reusing water in 1978, and has steadily reduced its water consumption. “For factories that need such a large amount of water, it is cheaper to spend money on recycling equipment than on water,” explains Liu Kuo-ching (劉國欽), director of the Public Facilities Department at China Steel. But few companies work on such a scale as large as csc, and even fewer have followed its lead.
Efforts to reduce residential water use have largely failed. The public is often unwilling to cut back until a water shortage becomes serious. “Whenever we make an announcement to reduce water usage, water consumption increases,” says Wu Chian-min of the WRPC. Last September, when the government confirmed the drought, daily residential water consumption in Taipei increased 9 percent from 2.3 million to 2.5 million cubic meters, and increased by 20 percent in Taichung. Apparently, the warning created a kind of panic. “It seems that right after the announcement, everyone suddenly thought of watering their plants and washing their cars,” Wu says.
Where does all that river pollution go? Only 3 percent of Taiwan’s residential sewage is treated before it is released into the ocean.
Many government officials and scholars support raising the residential water fee to better reflect the threatened status of the resource. Households now pay NT$8 (33 cents) per cubic meter of water. Hsu Shiang-kueen suggests charging extra for household use beyond a set amount. The idea has been raised in several water resource conferences, but no action has yet been taken.
To build public support for water conservation, the government has designated each April as Soil and Water Conservation Month. During the weeks before the start of the spring and summer rainy seasons, the Soil and Water Conservation Bureau hosts outdoor public events in parks and scenic areas, and runs a series of TV and radio public service announcements. Since they began in 1991, the activities have attracted several hundred volunteers, mostly primary and high school teachers, who educate students about environmental issues and help to report illegal water or soil use. But such programs must overcome a long history of unrestrained use of water and a public tendency to rely on the government to solve water shortages. “After a flood or drought ends, many people soon forget about the bad experience,” says professor Kuo Jan-tai. ‘‘They don’t consider water shortages to really be a problem—not until the next time.”