When we think of gold mining, we might imagine a pickax striking a glittering vein or gold flakes glinting through river sediment. It’s unlikely we’ve even heard about the 15 million men, women, and children who are poisoning themselves to produce 30 percent of the world’s mined gold. Though the mercury (or quicksilver) used in artisanal and small-scale gold mining (ASGM) causes neurological damage and widespread pollution, miners in developing countries continue to use it—and Kristin Sippl (GRS’16) is finding out why.

The quickest, cheapest, and easiest method for extracting gold from ore is to mix crushed ore with mercury. The chemical adheres to the gold, forming an amalgam, which is then burned over a blowtorch or open fire to vaporize the mercury and isolate the gold. Women are generally responsible for this task because it requires more skill than strength; they breathe in the vapor, which infiltrates their reproductive systems. Once released into the atmosphere, mercury is carried throughout the world by wind and is deposited into waterways, where it bioaccumulates in fish (some of which end up in American markets). ASGM releases up to 1,000 tons of mercury every year, and once it is released, it remains in the environment for 2,000 years. Most miners have no concept of the damage they are inflicting on themselves and the ecosystem.

“They don’t always know that mercury is bad,” says Sippl, a PhD candidate in political science. “In some cases, they actually think it’s good. In Brazil, for example, they think it enhances virility.” And in many areas, mining is a family tradition that is continued without question. When miners begin to feel the effects of mercury poisoning, they are often unable to separate their symptoms from those of other ailments prevalent in their communities. Even if they are able to attribute their sickness to mercury, most miners depend on ASGM for their livelihoods and see no other options.

Certification and labeling organizations, like Fairtrade International, are working with miners to find sustainable ways to minimize the risks of ASGM. Certification requires that miners follow standards for safe mining, with the goal of phasing out the toxic chemical. They promote the use of a retort, an affordable technology that captures 95 percent of the mercury. In return for following the certification guidelines, the miners are assured a fair price for their gold and receive a premium to spend on community development projects. Many miners don’t know about these programs, however, so Sippl is working “to figure out how to improve the flow of knowledge and give miners the information to make decisions.”

In summer 2014, Sippl will conduct fieldwork in Kenya, Tanzania, and Uganda to research how the certification and labeling organizations are communicating their guidelines and benefits to the mining communities; she plans to determine whether these communities are receptive to the organizations’ efforts to govern the supply chain, the process by which gold travels from the earth into the hands of consumers. “In theory, certification should work, but what miners want is very different from what Fairtrade wants,” Sippl says. “Miners might choose to adopt the rules if they were slightly different, so we have to figure out what they want. I’m trying to find the right mix of tools to get the supply chain under control.”

Sippl is equally interested in what we can do locally to support this mission. Each year, more than half of ASGM-mined gold goes to the jewelry industry. “Every decision that we make has an impact,” Sippl says. Though gold is “deeply embedded in our culture—how many of us wear gold jewelry?—it is a luxury product, so if we can clean up any supply chains, I think we ought to clean up this one.”