The College Sustainability Report Card—arguably the most comprehensive survey on American and Canadian universities’ environmental commitments—has consistently placed the University of Toronto in and around a B average. Despite what seemed to me like a fairly progressive agenda and my readiness to make excuses for my university, U of T truly is a B student.
Beginning with a B- in 2007, it seemed to show improvement with a solid B in 2008, but then dipped back down into a B- in 2009, only to settle again with a B in 2010. The newly installed solar thermal heat recovery system at the Athletic Centre is what catapulted the grade to a B this year.
Even though the report card has not seen an A in its four years, I was still curious to know what was causing our university to consistently hover in the realm of the lacklustre.
The report said that only the newly built Exam Centre on McCaul meets the Leadership in Energy and Environmental Design for Existing Buildings—a set of performance standards that ranks sustainability measures in buildings already constructed. Because of this, the university received a C under the green buildings criteria. But then again, the nature of retrofitting a sprawling campus with enrollment nearing 50,000 cannot occur overnight. I then noticed a glaring F under the shareholder engagement criteria.
However, a few positive notes caught my eye. The Sustainability Office maintains seven full-time staff, has diverted 62 per cent of recycled waste from landfill, and has been successful with the Lug a Mug campaign.
To compare, I decided to peer into how three other universities—all known for their good green doings—were scoring.
First up was College of the Atlantic—“devastatingly progressive” as one graduate put it—situated in Bar Harbor, Maine.
Long known for sustainable practices matched only by the progressiveness of its curriculum, COA traded in incandescent light bulbs for CFL ones long ago. All its electricity now comes from hydropower, with all landscaping done through organic methods. Aside from the (now) standard use of bicycles and composting systems, the college has chosen to ban bottled water (hurrah!), and serve up strictly grass-fed beef and confinement-free eggs from adjacent farms.
How do they do it? I took one glance at their endowment and enrollment ($15 million and 300), and decided that this alternate universe of compost toilets and waterless urinals (yes, they are what you think they are) was only possible for such a small campus.
I decided to shift my gaze to Maine’s neighbour two-over, Vermont. Middlebury College, long known for its outstanding language courses, has now become the poster child for campus sustainability. Many of its graduates have gone on to run global environmental campaigns and win fellowships for new approaches to solving social problems.
Middlebury has pledged to go carbon neutral by 2016. In so doing, it has purchased solar arrays, thermal heating, and a demonstration wind turbine. Much of its reduced energy record is owed to a cogeneration plant (an energy recycling system that makes use of biomass or other municipal waste) fuelled by woodchips, and the purchase of so-called “cow-power” (glorified farm manure). They even have a sustainability-themed residence. My mind immediately wanders into a fantasy world featuring twenty-somethings toasting their own granola, making their own jam, and playing the banjo by their garden patch of tomatoes and zucchini.
Middlebury has also shown remarkable campus cooperation: used vegetable oil from the dining services is donated to the athletic department, which in turn uses the waste to fuel a vehicle for the ski team. I pause to wonder if it’s these small pockets of carbon neutral spaces that will “solve” climate change—or at least make a valiant attempt at it—instead of fruitless meanderings of multilateral diplomacy. I again take one look at Middlebury’s endowment and enrollment ($691 million and 2,500) before dismissing it entirely.
My next stop is the University of British Columbia. With over 30,000 students and an endowment around 1 billion, it serves as the most apt comparison to the University of Toronto. With its B+ worthy green acts, I also figured that they might serve as a vision of what we could aspire towards.
UBC has pledged to go carbon neutral by the end of 2010 through a climate action plan that contains measurable strategies for emissions reductions. Much of its produce comes from campus farms and the school offers a sustainability minor in all disciplines.
Toronto may not have the same amount of yoga studios and health food vendors lining its streets to promote green living as the new modus operandi. We probably can’t milk our own cows by King’s College Circle, or install compost washrooms at Robarts. But we can make structural adjustments big and small, that take into account our urban setting, the size of our student body, and the constraints of our financial endowment. My next few articles will address some of the areas where we do have legroom.
