In a Dark Wood: The Fight Over Forests and the Rising Tyranny of Ecology. - book reviews
Reason, June, 1996 by Robert H. Nelson
Ten years ago, in his book Playing God in Yellowstone, Alston Chase took on two supposed shining lights in American life: the National Park Service and the environmental movement. Chase showed how the Park Service, captured by an environmental religion that fetishized its vision of nature, was passively allowing exploding elk populations to destroy important parts of Yellowstone National Park. The same misplaced religious zeal threatened the future of the park's grizzly bear population as well.
In a Dark Wood has Chase returning to these themes in a new setting: the spotted owl controversy in the Pacific Northwest. Here again, in an excess of religious enthusiasm, the environmental movement is wreaking havoc. Tens of thousands of jobs and hundreds of mills representing significant portions of the Pacific Northwest timber industry have been wiped out, and the federal government has lost $20 billion in future timber revenues - money that will have to be recovered from taxpayer pockets. Equally important for Chase, the ultimate outcome is likely to be bad for the environment as well.
As in Yellowstone, Chase finds a false understanding of nature at the heart of the problem. Environmentalists are driven to recover the Garden of Eden - the forest conditions of the Pacific Northwest before Columbus. The spotted owl crusade, as Chase follows its course, becomes a spiritual quest having little to do with forests and owls and much to do with finding personal salvation. Chase portrays environmental leaders caught up in their search for religious inspiration, with little interest in an accurate scientific understanding of old-growth forests or in practical steps to better protect them.
Thus, environmentalists willfully avert their eyes from the fact that forest fires swept across the Pacific Northwest with great regularity until their suppression in the 20th century. Indeed, Native Americans frequently used fire as a management tool, recognizing that a wide variety of habitat conditions yielded larger and more diverse game populations. Amazingly enough, Chase suggests that, even with the massive timber harvesting since World War II, there may still be more old-growth forest standing in the Pacific Northwest today than in pre-European times.
Another case of willful ignorance on the part of environmentalists affected the controversy. The northern spotted owl probably never should have been listed as a threatened species in the first place. Virtually nothing was known about the owl until the 1970s. By the mid-1980s, as environmental groups were deciding that the owl would be the chosen instrument for shutting down federal timber harvesting in the region, there were only a handful of academic studies on the owl. The federal courts then prematurely forced the Interior Department to list the spotted owl under the Endangered Species Act, just as the scientific data were starting to accumulate. When this research finally became available after the owl listing in 1990, estimates of owl numbers soared - from 3,000 to 12,000 and heading still higher. Contrary to the assumption behind the listing, it increasingly appears that spotted owls do well in young forest stands and may even require them.
To be sure, the owl was never the real object. Environmentalists from the beginning sought preservation of the full forest ecology - the "ancient cathedrals," as they conceived these areas. Once again, though, actual science proved uncooperative. "Ecological management" depends on the idea that a forest or other natural system moves through a succession of transitional stages to reach a final equilibrium or "climax" stage. Europeans had supposedly disrupted this happy equilibrium, but the methods of ecosystem management would now restore it. Theologically speaking, an original condition of harmony with nature had once existed, but fallen human beings had betrayed this true state of nature, leaving environmentalists today with the mission to recover the original condition. If this doesn't sound familiar, I suggest you consult your nearest Bible.
The ecological vision of succession and climax, offering a (thin) scientific veneer for the environmental gospel, did in fact have wide scientific acceptance until the 1970s. By the 1990s, however, any ideas of an inherent tendency toward stability in nature had been replaced by an evolutionary biology of chaos and unpredictability. As environmental historian Donald Worster commented in 1993, "The climax notion is dead, the ecosystem has receded in usefulness....Nature should be regarded as a landscape of patches, big and little, changing continually through time and space, responding to an unceasing barrage of perturbations."
For environmentalists, however, coming to terms with this new understanding would have been the equivalent of conceding the Garden of Eden had never existed. Not surprisingly, the environmental movement has treated the science about the same way the Catholic Church reacted centuries ago to the discoveries of Copernicus and Galileo. Indeed, Al Gore, Bruce Babbitt, and other environmental crusaders of the Clinton administration have enshrined ecological management as the official philosophy of the federal government, even as most scientists now say it has no valid foundation.