Snow and calcium chloride
This winter has been pretty cold. In addition, it snowed quite a bit from time to time. The sight of snow blanketing the streets and rooftops is undeniably picturesque. But the reality beneath that beauty is far less romantic. Snow and ice bring dangers such as slippery roads, treacherous sidewalks and the constant risk of accidents.
For decades, the solution has been straightforward: spread calcium chloride. It is cheap, effective and fast. Yet the more we rely on this chemical, the more we must confront the hidden costs we incur.
Calcium chloride works by lowering the freezing point of water, melting ice even in subzero conditions. This makes it far more effective than simple shoveling or sand. Municipal governments, apartment complexes and businesses all use it liberally, often without much thought.
I myself was fooled one morning, stepping out of my apartment and thinking the night had brought another slight snowfall, only to realize it was calcium chloride spread by the management office.
The problem is not its effectiveness but its overuse. Statistics have shown that Korea spreads tens of thousands of tons of calcium chloride every winter. The sheer volume inevitably seeps into the environment. Chloride ions accumulate in the soil, altering its chemistry and harming plants.
Furthermore, runoff flows into rivers and groundwater, raising chloride concentrations to levels that stress aquatic life. Infrastructure suffers too: Vehicles corrode faster, concrete cracks more easily and metal structures weaken due to repeated exposure.
What began as a safety measure can end up slowly degrading our environment. Evidence of its impact is easy to find in studies and reports on the topic. So, what can be done? Many experts suggest developing and using safer alternatives to calcium chloride.
However, I believe public awareness is even more important. Many residents and property managers don’t fully grasp the environmental consequences of indiscriminate use. To them, calcium chloride is just another winter supply, like shovels or gloves.
A national campaign, educating people about the risks and encouraging responsible practices, could change that perception. Government policy could reinforce these efforts by setting guidelines for its usage and disposal. After all, we should all know that the long-term costs of environmental damage far outweigh the short-term convenience of chemical deicing.
If current practices continue, snow will keep falling, and calcium chloride will likely remain part of our winter toolkit. But the time has come to rethink how we use it. Reducing indiscriminate application doesn’t mean compromising safety; it means embracing sustainability.
In Korea, snow evokes poetry, nostalgia, and seasonal rituals. But winter maintenance is becoming increasingly chemical. When the white powder on our streets is part snow, part calcium chloride, we have to ask ourselves: what kind of winter do we want?
It would remind us that every handful of the white chemical scattered on the ground carries consequences beyond its immediate convenience. And it would help ensure that the beauty of winter in Korea endures, preserved for generations to come.
Do we want a winter defined by safety and beauty, or one marked by corrosion and contamination? The choice is ours — but it demands awareness, responsibility and collective action.
Sho Chang-young is a retired high school teacher and former principal of Gunsan Girls’ High School.