Close Encounters: The River

I've just started the Third and final part of Encounters with the Archdruid, called "The River." It begins with a history of the settlement of the Western United States, telling of the many difficulties encountered by pioneers. The principle obstacle to settlement of the area was the limited access to water the settlers had. Survival was possible, but thriving in the American desert, as it was called, was nearly impossible given the limits of the frontier act. Families simply weren't given enough land on which they could profitably raise cattle, because the grasses were so sparse. In addition, unreliable and infrequent rainfall prevented them from setting down roots in the agricultural sense. And so, enter Floyd Elgin Dominy. Born in Nebraska long after the Homestead act of 1862, he's devoted his career to what would eventually make the settlement of the west possible: the dam.

And after the merits of the dam are portrayed in a Christlike light, the reader in immediately presented with the conservationist's view of the dam (and it's hilarious):

"In the view of conservationists, there is something special about dams, something- as conservation problems go- that is disproportionately and metaphysically sinister. The outermost circle of the Devil's world seems to be a moat filled mainly with DDT. Next to it is a moat of burning gasoline. Within that is a ring of pinheads each covered with a million people- and so on past phalanxed bulldozers and bicuspid chain saws into the absolute epicenter of Hell on earth, where stands a dam... Conservationists who can hold themselves in reasonable check before new oil spills and fresh megalopolises mysteriously go insane even at the thought of a dam. The conservation movement is a mystical and religious force, and possibly the reaction to dams is so violent because rivers are the ultimate metaphors of existence, and dams destroy rivers. Humiliating nature, a dam is evil -placed and solid."

Brower, the Archdruid of conservationists he is, falls into this group of dam haters. He counters an accusation of "you conservationists are always against things!" with a calm reply of "If you're against something, than you are also for something. If you are against a dam, then you are for a river."

Dominy, on the other hand, doesn't understand why the conservationists have their panties in twist about it. "Let's use our environment," he says, "Nature changes the environment every day of our lives -why shouldn't we change it? We're a part of nature. " In addition, he goes on to tout the environmentally-friendly attributes of a dam, as well as the benefits they have to man. "Hydroelectric power doesn't pollute water and it doesn't pollute air. You don't get any pollution out of my dams... In addition to creating economic benefits with our dams, we regulate the river and we have created the sort of river that David Brower dreams about. Who are the best conservationists -doers or preservationists? I can't talk to preservationists. I can't talk to Brower, because he's so Goddamned ridiculous."

So imagine taking Dominy, the minister preaching salvation by the hydroelectric dam, and Brower, the Archdruid, and putting them both in a little inflatable raft and sending them down the river into a canyon with each other for company. Aside from being the setup for an interesting joke or reality TV series, this is what actually happens.

Can't wait to find out who kills who first.

Close Encounters: The Island

I've finished part two of Encounters with the Archdruid, entitled, "The Island." The focus of the section is on the development of Cumberland Island and the reader is introduced to a man by the name of Charles Fraser. Fraser's the developer who wants to put a public resort on the island. He's made his living by capitalizing on nature's beauty and making it accessible to the paying public. It is with the introduction of Fraser's ethics that one begins to wonder if the right things can be done for the wrong reasons. I am most certain that this is true, but then, in this case, what is right and what is wrong is left more subjective, depending on the worldview you take.

Brower is still around in this chapter. He visits Cumberland Island with the narrator and the two tour it with Fraser. Brower and Fraser are juxtaposed and it is obvious that their beliefs are different, but they are perfectly amiable and agree on much with regards to the island. Brower, the staunch conservationist he is, believes in keeping the island as it is, untouched because of its intrinsic value to the world. Fraser, on the other hand believes that the island should be left largely untouched -save for a small area for cabins and a marina and some playground equipment- purely because of its aesthetic value, because that's what makes him money. It was said about him that he "is a conservationist in the real sense. He wants to harmonize a modern environment with all of the endowments of nature. " (then again, it is also said that "Conservation to Charlie means, in great part, that Charlie should not be bitten by a mosquito.") Fraser's beliefs are obviously driven by an anthropocentric worldview, as he seeks to preserve nature's "endowments' for the sake of their enjoyment value to humans. He's even hesitant to spend the night on the island in a brand new camper, as he's not one used to "roughing it."

Due to their differing approaches, Brower and Fraser, though agreeing on most issues, don't agree on everything. Brower, seeing the ecological benefits of having a marshy wetland on the island is all for keeping it there, while Fraser would see it drained, or turned into a man made lake, as it's more use to the public that way. In this chapter, the reader is also introduced to the idea of the "druid." This term is a reference to the historical druids, who worshipped tree spirits. Fraser terms those who he believes to be overzealous tree-huggers "druids. It's a term used in a derogatory way to poke fun at those who believe in trees for trees' sake, rather than for the use they have to humans. Little does he know that the man with whom he has enjoyably spent the day could be defined as the Archdruid.

I've encountered many Frasers in the past, and I question how they should be approached. If it's not obvious already, I'm a "druid" myself, and so agree with the practices of many who aim to protect nature, even for anthropocentric reasons. And for practical reasons, I see nothing wrong with letting them do the "right" things for whatever reasons they may have. Inevitably, however, I think that friction is bound to occur between the two camps at some point, for there always comes a time when preserving some aspect of the natural environment will in no way benefit humans directly and -heaven forbid- even inconvenience us. It is then that the Frasers of the world will not hesitate to bulldoze a natural habitat or fail to take measures necessary to protect an endangered species (especially if said species gives you a rash or has a face only its mother could love). It is then that the druids of the world will have to try their hardest to relate the existence value of these natural resources to the world -no small feat in a culture that is inherently self-centered and rather narcissistic, if I do say so myself.

Sobering News on Primates

I thought that readers of this blog might be interested in this article regarding the current plight of the earth's primates. Now might be a good time to begin working on breaking down the philosophical (and emotionally charged) "species barrier" Midgley writes of so eloquently in Animals and Why They Matter. Aside from such abstract questions as whether chimps have rights and so on, there is the simple fact (or so it seems to me) that this issue does and should matter greatly to us, and deserves our attention and energies. Perhaps it's time for some flannel ecology.

Snow Day

Nothing like two days of canceled classes and over a foot of snow to make you realize just how powerful the forces of nature can be. Just when we think humans are above nature, separate from it, it so kindly reminds us that we are very much simply a part of a much larger whole. We delude ourselves when we believe that we've conquered it with our technology. It's easy to get a big head when we've stopped rivers with our dams, drained swamps in one area and created lakes in another. We irrigate fields to undermine rainfall patterns and hull in snow to ski resorts. And just when we think we can control our surroundings, our world, it decides to remind us that we aren't as powerful as we often think we are.

And in spite of this helpful reminder from the rest of nature, there are some of us who try still to circumvent it. The other animals seem to have it right. Wait it out in your burrow, den or nest, and take the day off -but not us. With our snow mobiles and blowers, with our windshield de-ice sprays and mountains of salt we attempt to literately plow through this obstacle, this nusicince, play it off as if it were no big deal, shrug off the undeniable blow that the elements have dealt us. We an't just accept that our station may not be as high as we'd like it to be. We can't accept that human society can take a break, can be put on hold in recognition of the events taking place in the "real world," that world outside of our little bubble of human society.

I think we're far to arrogant sometimes.

Close Encounters: The Mountain

So I've been reading Encounters With the Archdruid and have finished part I. The book is divided in to three parts: the mountain, the island, and the river. Part one, believe it or not, actually took place on a mountain and was, in short, a means to juxtapose two of the men in the party of scientists. One, David Brower, is the leader of the conservationist organization called Friends of the Earth. He hikes the mountain trails ahead of everyone else in the party while drinking spring water from his Sierra Club cup and complaining about how the Forest Service is the worst thing that has happened to the national parks. His foil is Charles Park, a geologist and mineral engineer who "believes that if copper were to be found under the White House, the White House should be moved." The bulk of the chapter is thus devoted to contrasting the conservationist philosophy of Brower with the preservationist ideas of Park... and I find that I'm reminded of those fond discussions regarding the biocentric and anthropocentric approaches to nature.

Brower believes in the conservation of wilderness for the sake of wilderness, for the big-picture "insurance" it serves to the ecosystems of the world as a means of preserving biodiversity. In an argument with Park regarding the merits of a road leading to Glacier Peak, Brower says that the only way to see the stellar view it offers is to properly earn it -that is, to get there on foot. Park counters with"what about people who can't walk?" to which Brower responds, "They stay home. Ninety-nine point nine per cent can walk -if they want to." Yeah. Ouch. But he goes on to say that he does have a friend who wears leg braces and even he says that for him, it's enough to know that the mountains exist as they are. Existence value.

Park, on the other hand, says that Brower is an extremist and that he can't understand how people will deprive the present generation of resources that could be harvested (namely copper from the mountain, in this case) without devastating repercussions to the natural environment. He advocates a utilitarian conservation approach, wanting to do the most good for the most number, satisfy everyone's need while causing the least amount of harm -then again, his idea of "harm" seems to be different from Browers'. The take-home point, however, is that these guys each believe they give nature respect, but approach the issue from such different starting points (with Brower seeing nature as intrinsically valuable and Park seeing its monetary value) that they rarely ever make a consensus. This isn't to say that they don't. They can abhor the abuses to nature that are most visibly wrong, but just can't agree on what is right... or how right you have to be.