Striking a Greener Balance

It’s not exactly a secret that President Bush’s administration hasn’t been particularly friendly to America’s public lands. Despite his campaign pledge to “restore and renew” our public land and his image as a brush-clearing Texas outdoorsman, our national parks suffer from overcrowding and insufficient funding, our national forests are being thinned by irresponsible logging, and our wilderness areas are threatened by drilling and development.

The very agencies that are supposed to protect the environment are themselves in danger of atrophy. Morale among long-time staff in government institutions like the Environmental Protection Agency and the National Park Service has plummeted as political appointees ignored scientific data and moral guidelines to cater to special interests. The rationale behind these policies seems to be a mix of a desire to spur economic growth through development of natural resources, and a desire to give citizens the ability to enjoy the parks in any manner they desire, including, for example, riding roughshod over pristine fields in snowmobiles. This philosophy is bankrupt. For relatively insignificant economic gain, it has endangered the future of one of America’s greatest resources—its undeveloped public land.

But despite these policies, to categorize the Republican Party as inherently anti-environment, as some on the left are wont to do, ignores its historical tendency. Ironically, Republicans were among the original conservationists. Their pragmatic environmental policies, pioneered in the early 20th century, have served the nation well until recently. It is that original approach of balanced use of public land—rather than a complete protectionist policy, as some environmentalists advocate—that America must return to.

Bush’s ideology bears only the most distant relationship to the original Republican environmental ethos—the conservationism of Gifford Pinchot, a turn-of-the-century Republican who served as the head of the National Forestry Service and founded the Yale School of Forestry. Pinchot took a utilitarian stance: Not strictly opposed to development of wild lands rich in natural resources, he wished to preserve them for commercial initiatives as well as public recreational use, making land use decisions through objective scientific analysis.

But there was (and is) another side to the debate: The preservationist movement. Led by John Muir, the founder of the Sierra Club, the preservationists wished to preserve forests solely for their aesthetic qualities, spiritual value, and their potential for recreation. Muir believed that any development of the then already shrinking American wilderness was an unconscionable injustice to the nation and to future generations, who would not be able to enjoy the beauty of the American wild.

During the infancy of the conservationist movement, Muir and Pinchot were friends, but that changed after Pinchot was quoted in a Seattle newspaper as supporting sheep grazing in forest reserves in 1897. The commercialization of undeveloped lands was the main sticking point—Pinchot believed that sustainable development was possible, but Muir rejected the idea out of hand. Nevertheless, both men continued to oppose the wanton exploitation of natural resources, including strip mining and clear-cutting of forests.

Though Pinchot and his supporters won the debate and left an imprint on American environmental policy that has lasted decades, the pendulum has lately swung too far—under President Bush, the Interior Department, which controls a full fifth of the nation’s land, has allowed unjustifiable exploitation of the territory in its trust. Instead of balancing the needs of the economy and businesses against the imperative to preserve America’s wilderness for future generations, the Bush administration has given priority and far too much influence over policy to corporate interests. The administration has recklessly relaxed environmental restrictions, enabling companies to extract wood, oil, and minerals from our nation’s public lands at too great a cost. Although these companies will undoubtedly show great concern for their bottom line, it is unlikely that they will take much interest in the long-term future of our undeveloped land.

Pinchot’s argument, at least in part, was couched in the language of economics, applying scientific principles and cost-benefit analysis to the management of America’s natural resources. Where an area of wilderness is rich enough in minerals or wood, it would be used by responsible, private businesses for a fee. He also recognized that there are good reasons for preserving land beyond preserving its beauty for our children. For example, the framers of the New York State Constitution inserted a clause in it declaring the Adirondacks “forever wild.” Now, the New York City metropolitan area, which gets most of its drinking water from the Adirondack watershed, has one of the best public water systems in the nation.

These arguments are no less true today then they were in Pinchot’s lifetime. The answer to Bush’s irresponsible environmental stewardship is not to revert to Muir’s ideal of preserving pristine wilderness, but to return to the balanced vision of Pinchot. We can take into account the present needs of America’s economy, but we should not irresponsibly prioritize the almighty dollar over all else.



Brian J. Rosenberg ’08, a Crimson associate editorial chair, is a biology concentrator in Lowell House.