Time for green groups to reassess
By Bill Thompson
03/10/2009
For something that has been steadily dying for decades, the Chesapeake Bay promises to be a lovely corpse. Most of us who are fortunate to look out onto the broad estuary at sunset or witness the morning sky unveil the remaining pristine tracts of tributary and marsh are blinded by beauty. Were the Chesapeake a diseased plant or a wounded animal, we'd see the troubling signs immediately. But our equanimity is shaped both by superficial impressions and a market-driven mythology. Boating on the bay is as much fun as it's ever been-just don't expect to see the bottom through the algae-clogged water. And come summer, sharing steamed crabs with friends remains a warm-weather ritual-just don't ask where the crabs come from.
Yet we know the bay is sick because we are constantly reminded. For a decade the Chesapeake Bay Foundation, the region's dominant enviro-educational organization, has issued annual report cards with such disappointing grades that if the bay were a high school student, it would be mired in remedial classes. In addition, in government halls from Harrisburg to Annapolis and Richmond, staffers working for other non-profit groups are recording how legislators vote on measures affecting the air, land and water qualities of the three states that most directly impact the bay.
These score cards help gauge the extent of the bay's problems and identify some of the parties responsible for its poor condition. Yet after billions of dollars and decades spent trying to improve the Chesapeake-with almost nothing but bad news to show for the efforts-the scope of accountability must be broadened. The questions beg: Who's watching the watchdogs? Who's grading the graders?
Twenty-five years after policy makers and environmental groups ballyhooed the start of a massive restoration program, the Chesapeake Bay is no closer to stabilization and, in many respects, is worse off than before. The culprits continue to be silt, nitrogen and phosphorous runoff, over fishing, poor management and a failed attempt to balance what science tells us needs to be done with what we are willing to sacrifice. In the meantime, the numbers of green groups within the 64,000-square-mile Chesapeake Bay watershed are almost too many to count. A few of them are bigger and wealthier than they've ever been. The cynics among us can be pardoned for wondering if the call-to-arms to protect one of our most valuable resources has become a clever epigram to open the check books.
Now, like the bay itself, our economy is in serious trouble. Predictably, our personal dedication to a cleaner bay and our ability to contribute financially to environmental groups will be tested this year. Green fundraisers know this and competition for every dollar will be fierce. Smaller groups, already outgunned by their bigger brethren, could be in jeopardy.
Whether we like it or not, the failed state of the Chesapeake and the crumbling economy provide us with a unique opportunity to reassess the choices we've made about protecting the bay. Clearly, our past decisions deserve the same low grades that the Chesapeake receives in the annual CBF report card. It is well beyond the point for environmental organizations and individual activists to ask themselves if they're really saving the bay.
Evidence that an overdue introspection already is underway came during a chilly outdoor press conference last December in Annapolis where a small but credentialed gathering of scientists, former legislators and green advocates threw down a gauntlet challenging the effectiveness of past policies. Essentially, the so-far nameless group advocated strong, mandatory regulatory controls rather than the nonbinding, voluntary approach used to date. Meanwhile, other voices are calling for a re-examination of how a burgeoning population-once considered a cow too sacred to scrutinize-will put bay cleanup goals further out of reach. Compelled by a collective frustration over failed efforts, these bold statements indicate a break from the status quo mindset of many environmental mainstreamers.
This soul searching should not be limited to a handful of greens. Sadly, the Chesapeake region's environmental movement is hardly a movement at all. What once had been envisioned as a model of aggressive stewardship has morphed into a self-absorbed, self-perpetuating condition of stasis. Because of its stature as the de facto green leader and its impressive resources, the Chesapeake Bay Foundation could provide a profound example by beginning its own thorough introspection and by encouraging others to participate. Without new strategies and solutions-and perhaps even new movement leaders-the Chesapeake's decline will never be reversed. And when it gets too late to save the bay, all we'll have is its lovely corpse.
Bill Thompson is the author of magazine articles and books about Chesapeake Bay and a former writer for The Baltimore Sun. Distributed by Bay Journal News Service.