Legitimate opinions on environmental issues fall somewhere on a broad spectrum. At one end is the belief that the purity of nature must be sacrificed to satisfy immediate human need. The ethics of this of course lie in the nature of the need being fulfilled, and the damage done to fulfil it. Not every need is worthy of the long-term damage done to satisfy it.

But no rational man can believe that rain forests are burned for the pure pleasure of watching the flames. Immediate survival for the earth's population requires the availability of tillable land. The alternative is death in the squalor of Sao Paulo barrios. The worst that can be said of this position is that environmental excesses sustain life and immediate human satisfaction with a reckless disregard to future consequences.

At the other end of the spectrum is the preservation of natural purity without regard for the benefits it provides to humanity. In this camp are the Eco-terrorists who populate Tom Clancy novels, those who declare that true environmental consciousness exists only when the felling of a tree is equivalent to the loss of a human life. In other words, satisfying human need must be subservient to the needs of the environment.

In between these two extremes rational debate is possible. Discussion and reason do, however, require that we check the legitimacy of the opposing forces at work. We must acknowledge the trade off: to benefit the environment and future well-being, we must sacrifice short-term human wants, however base. To deny this is to render environmentalism a religion and all debate becomes heretical. So goes the mantra that all environmental impact induced by human activity jeopardizes the world and the future of mankind.

How the needs of the environment are determined is the real concern. Too often the objective is to deliver the world to future generations in an unaltered state. This, of course, is impossible. In the absence of all human activity, nature guarantees that change is the only constant. Only someone with an opposable thumb and large case of arrogance to go with it could endure angst over starting up his gas-guzzling SUV, yet remain nonplussed by La Nina and Mount St. Helens. Why is it that man-made impacts, however modest, inspire rage while nature's destructive tendencies are, well, natural?

Because the human condition is affected by environmental decisions, we cannot deny those who speak for it. Humanity needs their voice, however distant or diluted their representation may appear to be.

But one cannot hope to improve the human condition, maintain population growth, and remove pressure on the environment, all at the same time. This simple fact is as inescapable as tomorrow's sunrise. And no environmentalist worth his salt can disseminate doctrine for very long before he admits that in this fragile, imperiled world, there are just too many people. No way around it, some of us will have to go. The only people who can tolerate the dire implications of this message are those of us wealthy enough to believe that the real sacrifice will be made by the less fortunate, while we make do recycling beer cans. Intellectual honesty requires that environmentalists vote to retain in this world those classes which harm it least. This would leave us with a multitude of techies working Internet startups, several thousand organic farmers, and little else.

Some weeks ago, I took my daughter to Carlsbad Caverns and was blessed to witness her introduction to the marvels of this underground environment. The grumpy forest ranger who guided us through these miracles complained bitterly that the ever increasing number of visitors, along with unauthorized touching, had placed this subterranean world in jeopardy. Suppose, I asked, we discovered that any light--even the smallest amount--was causing deterioration to the caverns. What should we do? The ranger didn't hesitate. "Shut the caverns!" he said. To everyone? "To everyone!" he replied. But what good would they be then?

Never mind the philosophical conundrum of the value of beauty that no one can see. What struck me most was the speed with which the ranger replied and the assurance of his answer. For him there was no conundrum, the answer was clear.

Such confidence, such singularity of purpose is what bothers me most about environmentalists. While I agree with more of their views than I care to admit, immersing myself in environmental issues keeps me in boring company. It is simply too bad that the arguments cannot transcend the ideals.



Garold Spindler is an independent consultant and a former coal industry executive currently living in Denver.