In the grand debates about climate change and the state of the earth’s environment, beer rarely comes up. Why would it when much bigger culprits like tar/oil sands, automobiles and coal-fired electricity are around? Beer, on the whole, is a fairly benign product environmentally, especially if produced and consumed locally.

However, that is not an excuse for not trying to do better. This spring I embarked on a series looking at the environmental footprint of beer. I felt my Beer 101 column with Sherbrooke would be a good place for it. The first two parts ran in May and June (which I promptly forgot to post here). Part one, which you can find here, works out exactly where we are in terms of environmental stewardship.

The first lesson I learned writing it was how hard it was to get reliable data from the beer industry. Unlike other more obviously polluting industries, there are few external watchdogs creating independent numbers, which means for the most part we have to depend on self-reporting. Lesson number two was that the big boys are simply not to be trusted. Case in point: carbon footprint. My best searches revealed an average bottle of beer is responsible for between 300 and 900 grams. The large range is due to the number of variables that need to be taken into consideration – where was the malt sourced, how was the beer dispensed, how far away from the production was it consumed?

But what did our good friends at SABMiller suggest was their carbon footprint? 47 grams per bottle. Huh? This must be an example of what they call “new math” where 90% or more of the numbers are externalized.

Carbon emissions are not the only source of environmental impact by breweries. There is water and energy usage, use of non-renewable materials (e.g., aluminum), and chemicals (mostly cleaning agents and the like). While most breweries do their best to minimize waste, the conclusion is unquestioningly more can be done.

The first part leaves things on a down note, but we have to know where we are before we can get better. The second part, found here, hones in more specifically on the bottle vs. can issue. I have talked about that issue before, but this time take a more serious and detailed look.

What makes the debate fairly intractable is that each side has a good argument. Cans can argue their light weight – 15 grams vs. about 250 grams for bottles – gives them a distinct advantage. Bottles, on the other hand can point to re-usability and recycle-ability for their case. In Canada the average industry standard bottle (the twist-off long necks) is re-used 19 times. That saves a whole lot of resources. Even the non-reusable kind are easily melted and turned into new glass.

Bottles also have the clear advantage in terms of production. Glass production is fairly benign and utilizes fairly common ingredients (sand, dolomite and limestone). Cans, on the other hand rely on aluminum smelting, which is a nasty business overall. Plus those plastic liners needed to prevent the beer from interacting with the metal, are an environmental nightmare.

It might initially sound like bottles are the winner, and they are if the beer stays close to home. If you are drinking a bottle of something from Europe, Asia or Australia, then we might be talking differently. Bottles’ extra weight mean extra fuel to ship them, which ups the environmental footprint. Is that enough to overcome bottles’ other relative advantages? I don’t know. I couldn’t find firm enough numbers to reach a solid conclusion.

The third part, which should be up in the next week or two, looks at what breweries can do to shrink their footprint and points to some particularly heartening success stories.