By John Q. Hosedrinker 
Following its recent $14 million renovation, the Lincoln Memorial Reflecting Pool has succumbed to an algal bloom, turning its “American flag blue” bottom chartreuse. Despite park service efforts utilizing chemicals and ozone nanobubbles, the pool’s scale and its water source from the Tidal Basin present significant challenges, issues that have historically plagued the site. Experts note that the darker pool bottom may also be contributing to the algae’s accelerated growth, complicating efforts to maintain its intended azure appearance.
Read the original article here
The Reflecting Pool, a iconic landmark on the National Mall, recently found itself the subject of an unusual and, for some, rather comical, cleanup effort. Faced with an unwelcome bloom of algae, the Trump administration opted for a surprisingly low-tech and seemingly simplistic solution: hydrogen peroxide and the promise of “tiny bubbles.” This approach, however, has sparked a considerable amount of commentary, highlighting concerns about its efficacy, cost, and the overall competence displayed in managing such a prominent public space.
The sight of individuals manually pouring bottles of what appeared to be standard 3% hydrogen peroxide into the vast expanse of the Reflecting Pool, which holds millions of gallons of water, struck many as a rather stark metaphor for the state of affairs. The sheer scale of the pool versus the seemingly minuscule amount of hydrogen peroxide being added led to a general consensus that this was akin to spitting into the ocean – a token gesture rather than a serious solution. This hands-on, small-batch approach was viewed as a potent symbol, particularly when contrasted with the monumental task of maintaining a national treasure.
Adding another layer to the perceived inadequacy of the cleanup was the recent resurfacing of the pool’s bottom. This new, dark coating, intended to be aesthetically pleasing, inadvertently created a more favorable environment for algae growth. The darker surface absorbed more heat, raising the water temperature and thus accelerating the very problem they were trying to solve. This unintended consequence led to considerable exasperation, with many feeling that a fundamental understanding of basic principles, like how heat impacts algae, was lacking in the decision-making process. It seemed, to many observers, that instead of solving the algae issue, they had inadvertently created a more robust breeding ground.
The methods employed also raised questions about cost-effectiveness and practicality. The suggestion of using mercury, while obviously facetious, pointed to a desire for a more definitive and aesthetically pleasing solution than what was being observed. Similarly, the offhand mention of introducing plecostomus, or the tongue-in-cheek suggestion of ivermectin, underscored a frustration with the chosen approach and a belief that more established, natural, or scientifically sound methods existed for algae control in large bodies of water. The idea of simply painting the pool algae green and declaring victory, while humorous, further amplified the sentiment that the problem was being addressed with a disorienting lack of serious consideration.
The spectacle of the hydrogen peroxide application was further overshadowed for some by the presence of a couple whose entire public persona seemed to revolve around a fervent devotion to the former president, complete with themed attire. Their enthusiastic pronouncements about the pool looking “more blue” were met with a cynical disbelief, particularly given that the pool’s intended appearance is not a vibrant blue. This perceived disconnect between the reality of the situation and the enthusiastic pronouncements of supporters added a layer of almost theatrical absurdity to the entire affair. The very notion of “tiny bubbles” being the focus, rather than effective algae eradication, conjured images of a superficial, almost performative, attempt at problem-solving, perhaps evoking the whimsical tune “Tiny Bubbles” in a way that felt ironic given the context.
The financial aspect of the operation also drew significant criticism. Reports of hefty sums allocated for resurfacing and subsequent repairs, followed by what was perceived as a meager expenditure on ineffective cleaning agents, fueled accusations of scams and mismanagement. The contrast between the reported cost of the project and the rudimentary nature of the solution – pouring small bottles of readily available hydrogen peroxide – was jarring. The assumption that those in charge had never personally managed a pool, let alone a large public one, was a common refrain, highlighting a perceived lack of practical knowledge.
More informed suggestions for algae control, such as the use of industrial-scale algaecides, heavy-duty filtration systems with UV lights, or the strategic introduction of aquatic plants to absorb excess nutrients, were frequently brought up. These methods, while potentially more involved, were seen as offering genuine, long-term solutions. The deliberate eschewing of such approaches, in favor of a seemingly ad-hoc application of readily available, and potentially less effective, chemicals, led to widespread disappointment and a questioning of the decision-making priorities. The idea that a simple pool filter or copper sulfate could have been more effective than the chosen method further underscored the perceived inadequacy of the administration’s approach.
The administration’s reported response to the algae problem was characterized by a dismissal of more conventional or effective solutions, with a purported preference for readily available, off-the-shelf products. This inclination, whether driven by a desire for cost savings or a lack of understanding of large-scale water treatment, was seen as a critical failing. The notion that bleach, a relatively common pool chemical, wasn’t even considered, and that plans might have even involved blaming a previous administration if the hydrogen peroxide failed, paints a picture of a reactive and ultimately ineffective strategy.
Ultimately, the situation with the Reflecting Pool’s algae problem under the Trump administration became a focal point for broader critiques of governance, competence, and fiscal responsibility. The use of hydrogen peroxide and the discourse around “tiny bubbles” served as a potent, albeit strange, symbol of perceived mismanagement and a disconnect from effective, evidence-based problem-solving, leaving many to lament the cost and the continued presence of algae as a testament to a process that felt, to many, deeply flawed from the outset.