The Birth of the Conservation Movement
One foggy February morning in 1905, Gifford Pinchot, chief forester for the U.S. government, rode his horse “Jim” through Rock Creek Park in Washington, D.C. Pinchot was perplexed. His close friend, President Theodore Roosevelt, had asked him to come up with a unifying policy to manage all the country's natural resources. A forester trained in the best schools of America and Europe, Pinchot understood the scientific aspects of ecology, but the thought of one global theme by which to manage all forests, wildlife, and parks seemed beyond his grasp. He sank into a depression.
As he plodded along, recalls Pinchot in his autobiography, Breaking New Ground, he had a vision of himself looking down what appeared to be a long tube. He raced through the tunnel. At the other end he fell into a lush tract of Indian forest. Such lands are called “conservancies” and are managed for the public good. As he beheld this vision, the words “the greatest good for the greatest number for the longest time” flashed into his mind.
Pinchot dug his heels into the flanks of his horse and galloped straight to the White House. Roosevelt quickly caught the gist of Pinchot's revelation. In a special cabinet meeting that evening, it was Secretary McGee who ultimately coined the word “conservation.” The concept was subsequently defined as “the wise use of natural resources for the greatest number of people for the longest time.” Thus was born the conservation movement.
During the seven and one-half years of his presidency, aided by Pinchot, Theodore Roosevelt was responsible for building the foundation of today's conservation programs. He created five national parks — Crater Lake in Oregon, Wind Cave in South Dakota; Platte in Oklahoma, Sully Hill in North Dakota; and Mesa Verde in Colorado — along with four big game refuges, 52 bird sanctuaries, and a raft of monuments.
Roosevelt is widely credited with these accomplishments, but in his autobiography he corrected this, saying, “Gifford Pinchot is the man to whom the nation owes most for what has been accomplished as regards the preservation of the natural resources of the country.”
The Environmental Movement
Nearly a century since Pinchot, conservation continues to be positive force in national policy. The U.S. Department of Interior calls itself “the nation's principal conservation agency,” and new Interior Secretary Gale Norton calls herself a “compassionate conservationist.” The U.S. Forest Service uses Pinchot's very words to state its goal: “to provide the greatest amount of good for the greatest amount of people for the longest time.” But, these days, the word “conservation” has fallen out of favor. Something new has surfaced. It's called “the environmental movement,” and it has become big business. Consider the annual budgets of the following organizations: Sierra Club — $35 million, the Nature Conservancy — $131 million, and the National Wildlife Federation — $90 million.
The pathological need to always have an “enemy” is the Achilles heel of the modern environmental movement. To be sure, there is merit in some of the challenges brought by modern environmental groups, but why have vicious battles become so essential to their survival? Conflict and crisis fuel their newsletters, magazines, and most importantly, their fund-raising. When enemies do not exist, their memberships wane.
Sometimes, as Greenpeace admitted a few years ago, environmentalists will stage incidents in order to keep their coffers stuffed.
Notably, hunting groups such as Ducks Unlimited, The Rocky Mountain Elk Foundation, and the Foundation for North American Wild Sheep, are not considered environmental organizations by many in the environmental community. This, despite the fact that such groups shoulder much of the burden of conserving habitat necessary for wildlife research. Maybe they are excluded from being considered environmental organizations because they are too practical and positive.
By and large, the bulk of what many environmental groups do, aside from lobbying, is to send out newsletters and fund-raising appeals to keep the cash flow going.
Preoccupied with fund-raising and bent on a policy of antagonism, environmental groups often make it more difficult for government to practice conservation.
A case in point is a newsletter I recently received from one environmental group complaining that the Bush administration's education bill does not include environmental education. I haven't seen the bill so I don't know what it says. But even if it does not spell out environmental education specifically, the government will be conducting such education via the National Forest Service, The Department of Interior, and the EPA.
Nature Is in the Root of our Soul
Think, for a minute, what could happen if all that money used to raise funds and urge people to protest were spent on renting school buses to take kids out to the woods to plant trees. That would result in real acts of conservation, not perpetual protestation.
Thirty-five years ago I ran one of the nation's first environmental-education programs in a public-school system. It was a K-12 program that reached over 90% of the elementary kids in Ann Arbor, Mich., a city of 100,000; with at least one guided half-day field trip to a natural area every year. The program ran nicely on just 1.5 times a teacher's annual salary because we used volunteer assistant guides (college students and housewives), and the local Audubon Society paid for the buses.
Today, I live in San Francisco's Bay area, which has over 1,000 environmental and social action groups. Yes, over 1,000. They are all competing for funds. Many offer environmental education but nearly all charge kids and schools for their programs, instead of banding together to offer their services and resources for free.
They should do so, in part because there are enormous benefits to environmental education besides conservation. The average person today spends 90% or more of his life indoors. Being cooped up inside all day is just not good for you. Nature exists in the roots of our soul, and when we get separated from it, we are diminished. Little wonder that a recent study found that kids in schools with windows learn better.
Nature is always full of surprises. Aside from seeing chipmunks, deer, and crows, you may happen upon the answer to some pressing public-policy problem. That is how Pinchot discovered conservation. We should venture outside and rediscover it.
(This article can also be found on National Review Online.)
