I have always identified myself as an environmentalist. I have written papers and given speeches vehemently decrying attempts to drill for oil in the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge (ANWR). I have been a member of a plethora of environmental groups. Until recently, I had never doubted that doing everything in our power to preserve every bit of land possible was the right course of action.
But perhaps I was wrong. Perhaps extreme environmentalism is an ideal we cannot reconcile with our sumptuous lifestyles. Perhaps compromises, like drilling in ANWR, are discussions we can ill afford to condemn. Perhaps preserving land is a luxury we have only because of the exploitation of other nations.
In Sabah, the northern state of Malaysian Borneo, last summer I stood on a hilltop near the Kinabatangan River, and could fit the view of that state's last remaining stand of virgin rainforest - the second most biodiverse area in the world - into my camera's viewfinder. While visiting Thailand's famous Khao Sok national park, I heard mention of Shell Oil's plan to run an extensive pipeline system through the heart of the reserve.
In El Parque Nacional de los Volcanes in Mexico, my fellow climber and I were greeted 15,600 feet up the mountain by a sweeping vista of trash and debris frozen into the snow. Roads built for firefighting in Indonesia a couple of summers ago now make "illegal" logging more accessible, benefiting Western consumers and the Indonesian government.
Now I could continue to drop my spare change in the "save the rainforest" jar and pretend that it really makes a difference. Or I can acknowledge that my cheap Target furniture came from teak wood harvested in the very forest I pledge my extra pennies to protect, and that almost every common household product in my possession contains palm oil farmed in the wasteland of destroyed Bornean jungle.
It has become apparent that environmental awareness is a luxury only enjoyed by those rich enough to afford it. Well- meaning international environmental advocates go to third world countries to teach the locals about endangered species and wilderness preservation. At the same time, governments of wealthy Western nations make contracts with corrupt leaders of these same impoverished African, South American and Asian nations, doling out handsome amounts of money for the free exploitation of their resources. Little if any of this money ever trickles down to the local people.
In the United States, environmental groups speak of the potential drilling of ANWR in the most prophetic coming-of-doomsday terms. Yet no doubt even the majority of the most knowledgeable environmentalists have in their possession products made by destroying foreign land.
It is not that I have given the ideals up completely, but rather that the picture has been muddied. It cannot be okay for Western nations to protect their natural heritage while profiting from the plunder of less wealthy regions. The situation reeks of hypocrisy.
Is there an answer? I am not sure. But it is time for us environmentalists to reevaluate our stance in the context of the globe. The label may not have to change, but perhaps what it means should.
Katie Kelberlau is a freshman majoring in Indonesian logging. Reach her at katherine.kelberlau@asu.edu.
