But how exactly can we “pump” iceberg water? Harvesting is a labor-intensive, seasonal process that looks more like a fishing expedition than a bottling plant. Icebergs need to be spotted by satellite data to track “growlers” (small icebergs) that have broken off from glaciers then, using cranes and nets, the ice is hoisted onto specialized vessels and then brought to a shore facility where it is melted under strict sterile conditions to maintain its prehistoric purity. It is this last passage, among many,  that opens many controversial points: the UAE Iceberg Project, for example, would like to transport icebergs from Antarctica for thousands of km to satisfy the need for water in the United Arab Emirates with consequential greenhouse gas emissions and plenty to discuss on environmental justice [2]. So, the elephant in the room—or rather, the iceberg in the ocean—is the environmental impact. Is it ethical to harvest ice while our polar caps are melting?

Interestingly, the industry argues that they are “upcycling” a wasted resource. Once an iceberg breaks off and enters the salt water, it is in fact destined to melt and raise sea levels. By capturing it just before it melts, brands claim they are utilizing freshwater that would otherwise be lost to the salty sea. After all, why should we not use icebergs since they are bound to become salted water in the ocean?  The real environmental cost then lies in logistics. Shipping heavy glass bottles from the Arctic to luxury hotels in Dubai or New York carries a significant carbon footprint but many premium brands now offset this by using carbon-neutral shipping and 100% recyclable packaging as they are aware of the environmental footprint of this operation so they opt to reinvest the money in projects aimed at curbing down emissions [3].

In the meantime, legislation is not very clear on what is legit and what is not. In Canada, the territories of Terranova and Labrador were the first to regulate the matter: in 2016, they introduced a tax on it but it was not very effective so it got amended in the so-called Water Resources Act. While icebergs are technically frozen chunks of Greenland’s glaciers floating in the ocean, once they enter provincial waters, they fall under the Act that asserts that all water (including ice) in the province is property of the Crown, meaning you cannot simply pull a boat up to an iceberg and start chipping away for profit without permission but a Water Use license needs to be acquired. Licenses specify a maximum volume of water that a company can harvest annually and harvesters are often restricted to certain coastal zones to avoid interfering with shipping lanes or local fishing grounds. In addition, companies must submit annual reports detailing exactly how much ice they collected.

Norway’s approach instead to regulating “iceberg water” is less about a single “Iceberg Act” and more about a combination of environmental protection, strict food safety laws, and territorial water sovereignty. Any commercial extraction requires a permit from the Norwegian Water Resources and Energy Directorate (NVE) but since the majority of icebergs fall near the Svalbard islands, the Act prohibits any activity that significantly alters the natural environment: large-scale commercial harvesting is in fact viewed as a “disturbance” to the landscape and the marine ecosystem. Norway treats iceberg water as a “food product” from the moment it is harvested with the Norwegian Food Safety Authority (Mattilsynet) regulating the process for source traceability. 

There is still a lot of confusion on the legislative side but also on the whole sustainability of the operation: water is of central importance for reaching the Sustainable Development Goals (SDGs) of the United Nations. With predictions of dire global water scarcity, attention is turning to resources that are considered to be unconventional but the regulation is fundamental before it is too late. In the last 20 years, according to the journal Maclean’s, in the areas around Terranova and Labrador, the number of icebergs is increasing: if in the past no more than 500 per year were counted on the commercial routes on the coast of Canada, nowadays they are more than a thousand [4]. These data come from the International Ice Patrol, an organisation funded the year after the Titanic disaster (1912) to monitor the presence of icebergs in the Atlantic Ocean. Iceberg water isn’t meant to replace our daily reusable bottle: it is a niche luxury product—a conversation piece for a dinner party or a gift for the person who has everything. It offers a rare opportunity to consume something completely untouched by the modern world.

Cover image: A boat near a glacier at daytime. Photo by Annie Spratt on Unsplash.