So what do we really know about the metals in our tech gadgets? Okay, they don't come from the conflict regions of the DRC. But are they "sourced" from the children of Guiyu? Or in pails full of heavy rare earth concentrate from poor Chinese farmers? Is the antimony in our phones fed into the global supply chain via Burmese rebels over the mountains of Myanmar? We don't know, because no one is asking. And to some extent, perhaps no one wants to know: Just make sure there's a new phone out when I'm ready for my upgrade. Our policy amounts to Don't Ask, Can't Tell.
It doesn't have to be this way. Many of the metals we need could come from new mines in the United States, where supply chains could be easily certified, and labor, environmental, and safety practices would be among the most scrutinized in the world. But the political and regulatory climate in the United States has grown more and more inhospitable for mining over the past two decades, even though the time it takes to permit a new U.S. mine already ranks near the worst in the world. And little wonder, as many of the very groups that depend on metal-laden tech-gadgets to spread their message and plan their protests are the loudest objectors to new U.S. mines of any kind.
So now we have reached the resource equivalent of the spinning "beach ball of death" that sometimes seizes our display screens. Apple and its tech-wizard wannabees hunger for row upon row of the Periodic Table, which is mostly mined or recovered anywhere but in America. And that's the way it will stay, until the United States remembers that what is made in America often depends on what is mined in America.
Until then, the newest iWhatever developed at Apple's secret SkunkWorks may be advertised in a commercial that says "Designed in California" - but will likely arrive in a box stamped "Made in China."
The Geopolitics of Metal Supply
February 20, 2015