Use 3 material attached and write 400 words for the three questions 1. After reading the background material for this case, what role do you think the federal government should havein managing alimite

Northwest Environmental Journal Vol. 5:1, (1989) p. 100

Victor Scheffer

Here I offer an interpretation of environmentalism, a body of principles and practices so recently manifest in national thought that its meanings are still disputed. It is called, for example, "a theology of the earth," "a religion of self restraint," and "a science rooted in resource management and ecology." I define it broadly as "a movement toward understanding humankind's natural bases of support while continuously applying what is learned toward per­petuating those bases."

The word environmentalism entered the American vernacular dur­ing the 1960s. An editorial in Science (Klopsteg 1966) noted that "one of the newest fads in Washington-and elsewhere-is 'environ­mental science.' The term has political potency even if its meaning is vague and questionable." Environmentalism was at first perceived by the public as merely a response to a crisis, but it quickly proved more than that. As Lord Ashby (1978:3) explained to a Stanford University group:

A crisis is a situation that will pass; it can be resolved by temporary hardship, temporary adjustment, technological and political ex­pedients. What we are experiencing is not a crisis, it is a climacteric. For the rest of man's history on earth. . . he will have to live with problems of population, of resources, of pollution.

The vision of environmentalism is to preserve those things in nature which will allow the human enterprise, or civilization, to endure and improve. (I use the word nature for the world without humans, a concept which-like the square root of minus one-is unreal, but useful.) Because civilization depends absolutely on sur­roundings that are healthful and stimulating, environmentalism aims to protect both material and spiritual values. At the risk of oversimplifying, 1 review five articles of faith which support and energize the environmental movement. They reflect ideas devel­oped by "earthkeepers" from the time of George Perkins Marsh (1801-1882) down to the present.

1) All things are connected. The cosmos is a set of dependencies so complex that its boundaries lie forever beyond understanding. Simply lifting a spadeful of garden soil disturbs a trillion protistan lives, impinges on the lifter's muscles and mind, and changes the landscape. The poet who mused, "Thou canst not stir a flower without troubling of a star," was struck by the unitary connectedness of all matter (Thompson 1966 [1897]:19). He was an environmentalist before his time. Now we technological beings have Spun a web of change around the whole earth and nearby space. Our artifacts range in scale from radiations and molecules to mountains and lakes. Yet never will we understand completely the spinoff effects of the en­vironmental changes that we create, nor will we measure Our own,' independent influence in their creation. Consider the mysterious decline in the numbers of fur seals breeding on Alaska's Pribilof Islands. Their population has fallen to about 38 percent of its 1956 level (Chapman 1981:200; Kozloff 1986:14; Scheffer and Kenyon 1989). Six reasons proposed for the decline are:

1. unintended harassment by the biologists who study the seal herd;

2. overkill, or wasteful commercial cropping of the herd;

3. decreased resistance to disease, or decreased fertility, or both, as a result of anthropogenic poisons in the feeding waters of the seals;

4. deprivation of seal foods by eastern Bering Sea commercial fisheries, which have growl explosively since 1959 (now tak­ing 1.5 million tons a year);

5. entanglement in, or ingestion of, plastic debris floating in the wake of commercial vessels; and

6. changes in weather, such as those attending El Nino Norte, which depress the survival rate of the younger seals.

While none of these reasons has convinced the fur-seal biologists, they are betting even that human fouling of the ocean was the cause versus the concealed forces of nature.

Consider also the foxes, the geese, and the rats of Kiska Island, Alaska. In the spring of 1986, the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service dropped 50,000 poison, baits on windswept, treeless Kiska to elim­inate its fox population and thereby pave the way for the reintro­duction of Aleutian Canada geese from fox-free Aleutian Islands (Alaska Magazine 1986). The Kiska foxes were not native; they had been introduced decades earlier by fur trappers. Some years after their introduction, they extirpated the local geese. The government's poison campaign was successful. Unfortunately, Kiska also supports a rat population that originated in military traffic during World War Two. So, up for question is whether the rats, now free of predation by foxes, will multiply and themselves become an even greater menace to a restored goose population than the foxes could have been.

2) Earthly goods are limited. This truth finds expression in the term carrying capacity. As applied to people, carrying capacity is the number of individuals that the earth can support before a limit is reached beyond which the quality of life must worsen and Homo, the human animal, becomes less human. One reason we humans­ unlike animals in the wild-are prone to exceed carrying capacity is that our wants exceed our needs. This is what essayist Wendell Berry means when he writes (1987:15) that "whereas animals are usually restrained by the limits of physical appetites, humans have mental appetites that can be far more gross and capacious. . . ." Per­sons who understand carrying capacity and its rule of limits will (I believe) generally accept two kinds of government interference: (1) control of land uses such that no use destroys the recuperative powers of the land; and (2) control of the birthrate.

Land-use control, based on use classification (zoning) and enforcement, is expanding to include ocean-use control. In 1958, the United Nations opened a series of conferences aimed at protecting the health and permanence of the territorial seas, the high seas, the deep sea bed, and marine living resources. And, in 1982, a Conven­tion on the Law of the Sea was signed by 119 nations; the United States, regrettably, was not among them (United Nations 1983). Not to say that the United States was unconcerned; witness (among other laws) the Marine Mammal Protection Act of 1972; the Marine Pro­tection, Research, and Marine Sanctuaries Act of 1972; and the Fish­ery Conservation and Management Act of 1976. The implications of ocean-use control are notably striking in the Pacific Northwest, where a rapidly growing population (Morrill and Downing 1986) is bringing problems of resource allocation in offshore oil produc­tion, fisheries, and saltwater recreation. Common to all these prob­lems is the question: What decisions can we make without fore­closing the right of future generations to make other, and probably wiser, decisions?

Nations have been notoriously unsuccessful in limiting their birthrates. Governments are usually conceded the right to inter­fere-for the common good-with citizen use of land, but not with citizen use of the bedroom. Yet world population has surged to over five billion and is growing at about 1.6 percent per year. On the premise that Homo habilis originated 2.5 million years ago, about 4 percent of all humans who have ever lived are still alive (Exter 1987). "Nearly 40% of [the earth's] potential terrestrial net primary productivity is used directly, co-opted, or foregone because of hu­man activities" (Vitousek et al. 1986:368).

No one has the moral right, and should not have the legal right, to overtax carrying capacity either by reducing the productivity of the land or by bringing into the world more than his or her "share" of new lives. Who is to decide that share will perhaps be the most difficult social question for future generations.

3) Nature's way is best. Woven into the fabric of environmen­talism is the belief that natural methods and materials should be favored over artificial and synthetic ones, when there's a clear choice. Witness the vast areas of the globe poisoned or degraded by' the technological economy of our century.

Moreover, biological discoveries are daily revealing new aspects of the remarkable fit of every wild plant and animal to its environ­ment. The wild things seem to know ways of survival that we have never learned, or have forgotten. E. B. White (1962:67) said it best: "I would be more optimistic about a bright future for man if he spent less time proving that he can outwit Nature and more time tasting her sweetness and respecting her seniority."

Many environmentalists, professing their faith in natural wisdom, endorse a method of agriculture variously known as organic, alter­native, regenerative, sustainable, or low-input (U.S. Department of Ag­riculture 1980). It is a thrift not fi r from peasant agriculture insofar as it rejects those conventional farming practices which bring soil erosion, exhaustion of soil fertility, salination from irrigation water, desertification, and the pollution of soils (as well as downstream water) by chemical fertilizers and persistent biocides. Conventional farming, especially on the large areas that support agribusiness, also brings increased susceptibility to the diseases and pests of high-­yield varieties grown in monocultures. Organic farming, by contrast, maintains healthier soils and crops. It is suited to crop-livestock interdependence and is not limited by size. While it is more labor intensive than conventional farming, it is less energy consumptive. "The best farming," writes Berry, "will continue to rely on the attentiveness and particularity that go with the use of the hands" (1987:132).

In listing the virtues of organic farming, I don't mean to imply that the simple agrarian and pastoral economies of the early nine­teenth century in America will, or should be, revived. I do mean that the practices within those economies which express deep con­cern for the future of the land will be adopted.

The recent bioregional movement, rooted in awareness of place, is one expression of concern for natural values. In 1984, at the first bioregional congress, in Missouri, a committee reported that "bio­regionalism recognizes, nurtures, sustains and celebrates our local connections with: land, plants and animals; rivers, lakes and oceans; families, friends and neighbors; community; native traditions; and local systems of production and trade" (Sale 1984:724). A utopian concept, though useful.

Wilderness regions demonstrate with beautiful clarity that Na­ture's way is best. To the supporters of environmentalism they are sacred shrines. The Wilderness Act of 1964 declared that a wilderness "is an area where the earth and community of life are untrammeled by man, where man himself is a visitor who does not remain" (P.L.88-577, Sec. 2). To enjoy a wilderness is a privilege by no means confined to a camping-under-the-stars elite. "It is," explains com­mentator George F. Will, "an aristocratic pleasure, democratically open to all" (1982:18). Wilderness lies very close to the core of the environmental ethic.

4) The survival of humankind depends on natural diversity. Until yesterday, geologically speaking, the earth was incredibly rich in landforms and habitats, peculiarities, and commonalities. It was the stage for evolutionary experiments which produced a bat weigh­ing only 0.07 of an ounce (less than the dry weight of tea in a tea bag) and a whale weighing 200 tons (Scheffer 1974; Wood 1976:51). As a result of those and other experiments, the earth now hosts 10 million (or more?) species representing a range of genetic diversity that strains the imagination. Although species by the billions have vanished through natural extinction or transformation, the present rate of extinction is thought to be at least 400 times faster than at the beginning of the Industrial Age (Myers 1985; Raup 1986). Hu­mankind's destruction of habitats is overwhelmingly to blame.

Diversity, or species richness, is an ancient and accomplished pattern; it "works." Its maintenance calls for protecting critical hab­itats such as tropical rainforests and temperate old-growth forests; wetlands; deep primeval lakes; prairies; marine estuaries, reefs and islands; fragile tundras and deserts. Even where habitats now enjoy some degree of protection, special care for the imperiled species within them is vital. Witness the desperate, multimillion-dollar cam­paigns in our own generation to save the California condor and the black-footed ferret. We cannot hope to save all the endangered species. But, in the pure act of trying, we (as the only planning animal) can employ our unique talents to keep the earth livable for as many other species as possible. Their future is our future; their destiny is ours.

Ongoing efforts to protect the spotted owls inhabiting thirteen national forests of the Pacific Northwest illustrate the difficulty, within an atmosphere of strong controversy, of saving a rare wildlife species (U.S. Forest Service 1988). What is at stake is more than the survival of owls, it is the survival of commercially valuable, old­ growth or mature timberland where the owls nest and feed, The thirteen forests contain 4.1 million acres of "currently suitable spot­ted owl habitat" having a carrying capacity for about 1,290 breeding pairs. The Forest Service plan for protecting the owls calls for a ban on logging and other development on 347,700 acres having a car­rying capacity for about 270 pairs. If the plan carries, owl protection will "cost" annually 163 million board feet of timber having a net value of $28 million, while 455 to 910 jobs will be lost. And the plan will "cost" a thousand pairs of owls. .

Public interest in the plan remains high, especially on the part of environmentalists and persons dependent on logging. The Forest Service reports that, between mid-1986 and mid-1988, it received nearly 42,000 comments on a draft version of the plan. The Case of the Owls in the Old-Growth remi.lds us that publicity focused on one symbolic species like the spotted owl (or the gray wolf, or trumpeter swan, or desert pupfish) can impart a far broader message: Saving habitat must precede the saving of diversity.

5) Environmentalism is radical in the sense of demanding fun­damental change. It calls for changes in present political systems, in the reach of the law, in the methods of agriculture and industry, in the structure of capitalism (the profit system), in international dealings, and in education. Thus, biology, the science of living, must receive greater support. Here I mean biology as broad enlightenment aimed at increasing, among other things, personal responsibility for the biosphere.

The implementation of environmentalism will be extremely dif­ficult. It will require, in the words of philosopher J. Baird Callicott (1980:338), "discipline, sacrifice, retrenchment, and massive eco­nomic reform, tantamount to a virtual revolution in prevailing at­titudes and life styles." The United Nations World Commission on Environment and Development recently emphasized that "it is im­possible to separate economic development issues from environ­mental issues; many forms of development erode the environmental resources upon which they must be based, and environmental deg­radation can undermine economic development" (United Nations 1987:3). The Commission's central point is that the "macroeconomic system" must change and, by implication, that environmentalism must eventually be accepted as the best of all economies. Although the goals of environmentalism and exploitation are poles apart, many environmentalists believe that a middle ground is attainable, if indeed it must be unquiet ground.

Environmentalism, along with the liberation movements of the 1960s, grew rapidly while we Americans were struggling to change outmoded attitudes and institutions. The sweeping question we asked ourselves was this: If we believe that a permanent, sustainable bio­sphere is possible, how must we treat the one we now inhabit? So we planned to make wiser use of materials and energy; to live less wastefully and more sparingly. The blueprints we drafted were radical, but necessary. They described a future in which:

• We will, by reducing at the source and by recycling, cut back the tonnage of unused materials or "wastes" that now end up in dumps, waterways, and incinerators.

• We will force manufacturers to build goods that are longer lasting and more easily repaired and, thus, will we attack planned obsolescence for profit.

• We will substitute plentiful materials (such as aluminum and iron) for scarcer ones (such as copper and lead). Minerals in the earth's crust are finite. According to a Brookings Institution estimate published in 1977, the median life expectancy for 29 important minerals was only 40 years at that time (Tilton 1977:6-7).

• We will apply triage in exploiting the fossil fuels-petroleum, coal, and natural gas-which have long driven our economy. What fraction should we leave untouched for persons yet unborn? Should we quit burning these fuels solely for cheap energy and ration them for future use as unique chemical bases?

• We will use groundwater no faster than it accumulates. Witness the alarming decline in volume of the great Ogallala Aquifer which underlies six states from Texas to Nebraska.

• We will save energy by lowering house and office temperatures, by installing thermal insulation, and by switching to hour-budgeted heating.

• We will increase tenfold or more our dependence on renewable sources of energy: solar (including biomass conversion), wind, ocean thermal energy conversion (OTEC), tidal and wave, and geothermal. Hydropower will lose its appeal as, one by one, we lose our rich valleys and rushing streams to reservoirs. Energy from nuclear fis­sion will lose its appeal as we realize its awesome costs in building new generators and dismantling old ones, in paying safety-insur­ance premiums, and in storing lethal radwastes through millennia to come. The bitter experience of the Washington Public power Supply System (WPPSS) with nuclear power generation is the story of a crunch between an older kind of planning based largely on trends in power demand and a newer kind based on "econometric fore­casting" (Hill 1981:110). The newer kind brings into the planning equation factors such as citizen participation, consideration of en­vironmental impact, conservation (in the special sense of energy saving) and, in the end, better understanding of the real costs of nuclear power generation. For example, in the early 1970s, WPPSS had drawn plans for five nuclear plants to be financed by the sale of bonds. By 1983, outstanding bonds amounted to $8.3 billion, and WPPSS had become the largest issuer of tax-free bond!! in American history (Bull 1983). In mid-1983, however, WPPSS defaulted on a $2.25 billion debt (Blumenthal 1984). Only one plant, at Hanford, was ever completed. Lawsuits generated during the history of WPPSS (known to Wall Street as Whoops!) continue as I write in 1989.

• As we move to protect our planetary bases of support we will keep steadily in mind the priceless value of human health. The harmful effects of human-introduced poisons-heavy metals and a host of synthetic chemicals-loom ever more dangerous. Many ef­fects are time delayed and hence difficult to trace to their causes. Many surface with shocking impact in the body's nervous and re­productive systems, and as neoplasms. Witness the finding that air­borne lead (Pb) reaching the brain of a young child can depress his or her IQ, and that the incidence of testicular cancer among Cau­casians doubled in a recent 40-year period (Schottenfeld and War­shauer 1982:947 -957; Needleman, Geiger, and Frank 1985). To study environmental poisons is to study their sources, their pathways into the body, and their impacts-both immediate and postponed. Spe­cial targets of concern are the hundreds of modern biocides: the chemicals that we use recklessly to kill unwanted plants and ani­mals. Better ways are known of keeping pests in check-including more efficient methods of land management and biocontrol (the control of life with life).

If I have rightly interpreted the message of environmentalism, the foregoing articles of faith are a morality of life or death for civilization. They are guidelines which, if not followed during the next global energy crunch, or economic recession, or pandemic, or military crisis, will again delay us in reaching that steady-state econ­omy which has always been the goal of the environmental move­ment. Those who will lead the movement-the thoughtful and con­siderate in many walks of life-will continue to teach that the future of humanity depends on knowing the planet where humanity evolved. Knowing will bring respect, and respect will bring healing and perpetual care.

Victor Scheffer worked for the United States Fish and Wildlife Service for over thirty years. He studied Alaska fur seals of the Pribilof Islands, is an authority on whales and was the first chair of the Marine Mammal Commission. Scheffer wrote The Year of the Whale (1969) which received the Burroughs Medal. His last two books were Natural History of Marine Mammals (1981) and Spires of Form: Glimpses of Evolution (1985).