I admit it: I'm no environmentalist. But I like to think I'm something of a
conservationist.
No doubt for millions of Americans this is a distinction without a
difference, as the two words are usually used interchangeably. But they're
different things, and the country would be better off if we sharpened the
distinctions between both word and concept.
At its core, environmentalism is a kind of nature worship. It's a holistic
ideology, shot through with religious sentiment. "If you look carefully,"
author Michael Crichton observed, "you see that environmentalism is in fact
a perfect 21st century remapping of traditional Judeo-Christian beliefs and
myths."
Environmentalism's most renewable resources are fear, guilt and moral
bullying. Its worldview casts man as a sinful creature who, through the
pursuit of forbidden knowledge, abandoned our Edenic past. John Muir, who
laid the philosophical foundations of modern environmentalism, described
humans as "selfish, conceited creatures." Salvation comes from shedding our
sins, rejecting our addictions (to oil, consumerism, etc.) and demonstrating
an all-encompassing love of Mother Earth. Quoth Al Gore: "The climate crisis
is not a political issue; it is a moral and spiritual challenge to all of
humanity."
I heard Gore on NPR recently. He was asked about evangelical pastor Joseph
Hagee's absurd comment that Hurricane Katrina was God's wrath for New
Orleans' sexual depravity. Naturally, Gore chuckled at such backwardness.
But then the Nobel laureate went on to blame Katrina on man's energy
sinfulness. It struck me that the two men are not so different. If only
canoodling Big Easy residents had adhered to "The Greenpeace Guide to
Environmentally Friendly Sex."
Environmentalists insist that their movement is a secular one. But using the
word "secular" no more makes you secular than using the word "Christian"
automatically means you behave like a Christian. Pioneering green lawyer
Joseph Sax describes environmentalists as "secular prophets, preaching a
message of secular salvation." Gore, too, has been dubbed a "prophet." A
green-themed California hotel provides Gore's "An Inconvenient Truth" next
to the Bible and a Buddhist tome.
Whether or not it's adopted the trappings of religion, my biggest beef with
environmentalism is how comfortably irrational it is. It touts ritual over
reality, symbolism over substance, while claiming to be so much more
rational and scientific than those silly sky-God worshipers and deranged oil
addicts.
It often seems that displaying faith in the green cause is more important
than advancing the green cause. The U.S. government just put polar bears on
the threatened species list because climate change is shrinking the Arctic
ice where they live. Never mind that polar bears are in fact thriving -
their numbers have quadrupled in the last 50 years. Never mind that full
implementation of the Kyoto protocols on greenhouse gases would save exactly
one polar bear, according to Danish social scientist Bjorn Lomborg, author
of the book "Cool It!"
Yet 300 to 500 polar bears could be saved every year, Lomborg says, if there
were a ban on hunting them. What's cheaper - trillions to trim carbon
emissions, or a push for a ban on polar bear hunting?
Plastic grocery bags are being banned, even though they require less energy
to make and recycle than paper ones. The country is being forced to
subscribe to a modern version of transubstantiation, whereby corn is
miraculously transformed into sinless energy even as it does worse damage
than oil.
Conservation, which shares roots and meaning with conservatism, stands
athwart this mass hysteria. Yes, conservationism can have a religious
element as well, but that stems from the biblical injunction to be a good
steward of the Earth, rather than a worshiper of it. But stewardship
involves economics, not mysticism.
Economics is the study of choosing between competing goods.
Environmentalists view economics as the enemy because cost-benefit analysis
is thoroughly unromantic. Lomborg is a heretic because he treats
natural-world challenges like economic ones, seeking to spend money where it
will maximize good, not just good feelings among environmentalists.
Many self-described environmentalists are in fact conservationists. But the
environmental movement wins battles by blurring this distinction, arguing
that all lovers of nature must follow their lead. At the same time, many
people open to conservationist arguments, like hunters, are turned off by
even reasonable efforts because they do not want to assist "wackos."
In the broadest sense, the environmental movement has won. Americans are
"green" in that they are willing to spend a lot to keep their country
ecologically healthy, which it is. But now it's time to save the environment
from the environmentalists. |