In 2016, I released a documentary called ‘Smoke: A Crisis in Northern Thailand’ that looked into the causes and possible solutions to the rampant agricultural and forest fires that plague this region, year-after-year. I spent about ten months working on the film, traveling to remote areas of Chiang Mai, Mae Hong Son, and Chiang Rai, in an attempt to fully understand every angle of the issue. I spoke to pollution experts, agricultural scientists, medical doctors, farmers, villagers, members of the public – anyone who was willing to offer perspective on this issue.
At the time, I was a six-year resident of Chiang Mai and was perplexed as to why every March or so, my mountain paradise would descend into a fiery inferno with little to no acknowledgment by local authorities.
The city would become economically paralyzed, as well as shrouded in an all-consuming dense smog. Back then, I had never heard of particulate matter or PM2.5 (the Thai government released figures for PM10 levels which were equally mysterious to me.) What I did know for sure was that I found it difficult to breathe for the first time in my life and I didn’t know why.
In my search for understanding, I was concerned by the degree of misinformation that was circulating, particularly by authorities. The Pollution Control Department’s air quality app would depict a smiling green cartoon indicating the air was healthy, while Doi Suthep was simultaneously hidden by the haze. The local air quality data was in conflict with data from international sources as well.
What did it all mean?
Healthy lungs
Dr. Rungsrit Kanjanavanit, a highly regarded cardiologist at Chiang Mai University (and fellow air quality activist), gave me invaluable insight into the effects of air quality on overall health. He explained that particulate matter (PM or fine dust) created from the burning is so small that it passes through our lungs, directly into our bloodstream, resulting in an array of health problems, as well as exacerbating existing conditions. Even more worrying was the lack of public understanding on how to safeguard our health, stemming from the misinformation provided by authorities.
PM2.5 affects 100 per cent of the population in all areas that it is present. It’s no wonder that the north of Thailand has the highest rate of lung and respiratory disease in the country.
Back to the future
This was four years ago. It is now 2020.
Surely, the authorities must have fixed things by now.
Sadly, the problem remains as prevalent as ever with Chiang Mai holding a firm top place for “worst air in the world” for several weeks now. Fires rage, burning bans are not effectively enforced and when they are, the fines are laughable. A head forest firefighter from Mae Hia District took his own life this weekend citing grave failures in our system of governance. The situation is dire, to say the least.
The World Health Organization (WHO) has clear guidelines for how to respond in an air quality crisis. At the levels we are currently experiencing, a state of emergency should be declared, schools closed, and outdoor exposure minimized.
Luckily, the coronavirus is already helping us do that. If it wasn’t then the local government would continue its inept response and none of these emergency measures would have been enacted.
The capacity to take serious action in a health crisis is possible as we have seen in the ongoing coronavirus outbreak.
And yes, it is important and right that we are deeply concerned about our elderly being exposed to the virus but are we not concerned at all about their exposure to the smoke?
The six million residents of the North have been impacted by haze pollution for years without committed action – yet with approximately 2,000 cases of Covid-19 across the whole country, society as we know it has come to a grinding halt.
Where is the logic in this? To be clear, I agree with and am abiding by the stay-at-home orders for the pandemic, but I fail to understand why a public health crisis caused by toxic air pollution is not tackled with the same level of seriousness and determination.
Possible solutions
Aquatic cannons, water-spewing drones, and giant air purifiers are all interesting (and mind-boggling) band-aids, but never have serious and sustainable measures been taken. Just for a point of comparison, earlier this year, Bangkok experienced a haze-related shut down at levels of 100 points lower than what we are experiencing in Chiang Mai now.
So what are some real solutions?
We have held up our banners in protest, set up community councils, installed air quality monitors in every school, loaded up on purifiers and become mask experts; yet our cries for help have continued to fall on deaf ears. I waver on giving up. What stops me is the heartbreak I feel when my friend’s six-year-old son has to stop playing soccer because he’s gasping for air after just a few steps.
I can’t give up because when I replace my 70-year-old friend’s surgical mask with an N95, I believe I’m adding years to her life.
What we need in the north is a multi-faceted, long-term plan that is then put into action with a dedicated task force. It will require open and honest communication and a willingness to collaborate. Only then can we move beyond this crisis and begin to heal. We are trying to make our voices heard in the face of the virus and the smog crisis. Let us hope the government is finally listening.
