A dream, not a nightmare

By Marty Trillhaase

Post Register editorial board members are Roger Plothow, publisher; J. Robb Brady, publisher emeritus; Marty Trillhaase, Opinions page editor; and Dean Miller, managing editor.

Idaho's conservationists are at a crossroads. When Congressman Mike Simpson unveils his Boulder-White Clouds wilderness package, they can single-handedly kill it -- and wind up politically friendless.

Or they can help Simpson, do some good for the environment and leave some other interest group out in the political cold for a change.

Still being drafted, Simpson's bill offers something for everybody to hate. For Custer County, there's about 300,000 acres of new designated wilderness in a county with little privately owned land.

For conservationists, there's the transfer of public lands -- 162 acres north of Stanley, another eight acres within the city limits and at least 200 acres near Mackay, Challis and Clayton -- to Custer County, presumably for development.

Motorized and snowmobile recreationists don't like restrictions. Conservationists don't like having motorized use in the area preserved.

Your stereotypical environmentalist would reject that deal. If he does, Congress will reject Simpson's bill out of hand.

That's the kind of thing that leads authors Michael Shellenberger and Ted Nordhaus to proclaim "The Death of Environmentalism."

In their essay, they describe how environmentalists initially appealed to core American values and succeeded in passing cornerstone laws to preserve endangered species, protect clean air, clean water and special places.

But since 1980, regulators, experts and lawyers have dominated. Average citizens couldn't fathom terms such as "EIS," "riparian zones" and "management indicator species." Environmentalists, the authors say, became elitists, politically unrealistic and alarmists. In contrast to Martin Luther King Jr.'s "I have a dream," environmentalism's message has been: "I have a nightmare."

Shellenberger and Nordhaus argue it's time for environmentalism's third wave. Simpson's bill could be the opportunity. It:

* Offers Idahoans a positive vision -- a dream, not a nightmare -- where one of the crown jewels of this state can be protected for generations.

* Advances a market-based solution. Yes, turning more than 162 acres of land outside Stanley for development is cause for heartburn. But it brings Custer County on board and recognizes central Idaho's legitimate need for economic help.

* Forges long overdue coalitions among Republicans, conservationists, rural local officials and ranchers.

* Recognizes political realities. The 1970s are over. Republicans are in. Democrats are out.

* Appeals to Idaho values. It is no oxymoron to be politically conservative and yet appreciate Idaho's outdoors. But people want to be heard. They care about their own livelihoods and their children's futures.

As the Idaho Conservation League's Rick Johnson -- a leading practitioner of this third wave -- has said, "Don't let the perfect be the enemy of the good."

If Simpson prevails, Idaho's 25-year-old political logjam will have been broken. The path may be cleared toward resolving other long-standing disputes about resources in this state.

Even if Simpson doesn't prevail, Idaho conservationists who worked with him will have gained credibility with the public, formed lasting alliances, picked up political capital and become relevant -- all things that will matter when the next battle comes.

For them, this would be what Shellenberger and Nordhaus called "winning by losing."

Groups such as snowmobilers and motorized recreationists that are poised to oppose this initiative would find themselves where the conservationists have been these past 25 years -- looking like obstructionists willing to sacrifice the greater good for the sake of purism.

Idaho environmentalism is no monolith, and it's clear that some activists -- notably the ICL and the Wilderness Society -- already have moved into the third wave. But the real test will come when Simpson introduces his bill.

That could come as early as this week.

Marty Trillhaase