Horror Writers Reveal Their Environmental Fears

The “invisible monsters” of climate change and extinction stalk us all, but these experts in terror also remind us that fighting monsters helps create hope.

“The world is full of ghosts, and some of them are still people.” — Peter Straub (1943–2022)

Who needs vampires, werewolves or serial killers this Halloween when you’ve got oil executives, polluting companies and climate-denying politicians?

After all, environmental horrors don’t just happen one night or season each year. They’re with us all the time now.

Even some of today’s top horror novelists tell us they’re having trouble processing the latest overwhelming climate disaster or extinction threat.

But that’s one of the values of horror: Sometimes you just need to know that someone else shares your fears, to acknowledge that you’re not alone.

At the same time, horror fiction provides a safety valve for the pressures of modern society. As the late horror director Wes Craven (Nightmare on Elm Street) once said: “Horror films don’t create fear. They release it.”

What environmental terrors keep horror authors up at night — and what gives at least some of them the hope of escape?

Turn out the lights and find out:


Alice Henderson, wildlife researcher and author of A Ghost of Caribou

A Ghost of CaribouThe ecological disaster that horrifies me the most is species extinction. Habitat loss and fragmentation, pollution and anthropogenic climate change are taking an unprecedented toll on us and the species we share this planet with.

To think that so many species are slipping away, never to grace the Earth’s surface again — all due to human apathy, ignorance, and even willful destruction of our planet — horrifies me.

But I have hope we can pull it together. Even though so many species have vanished in our wake, we can prevent this from continuing to happen. But we must act.


Brandon Massey, author of Dark Corner

Brandon MasseyThe extreme weather events we’ve been experiencing terrify me. As I write this, we’ve just seen Hurricane Ian ravage Florida’s Gulf Coast, Georgia and the Carolinas, leaving millions of people without power and causing billions in property damage.

And it will get worse. This is the inevitable consequence of decades of unchecked burning of fossil fuels. We’re paying the bill for generations of irresponsible behavior.

The imminent climate catastrophe should keep us awake at night. It should motivate us to take real action to save our societies — before it’s too late.


Daryl Gregory, author of Revelator, an Appalachian horror novel, and nine other books

Revelator book coverWhat scares me is my own despair — the feeling, sometimes bordering on certainty, that we can’t come back from what we’ve done to the planet, and that my grandchildren and their children will be consigned to a hellscape of fires, floods, droughts and killing heat. I’m so angry at our own stupidity and shortsightedness. We’ve not only murdered ourselves but countless other species, and we’ve poisoned the sea with microplastics that will persist long after we’re gone.

Sometimes when I visit the Smokies, where my parents grew up, I’ll come upon an abandoned house or barn being retaken by the forest — vines twisting through the walls, trees bursting through a roof — and think, yeah, we had it coming. Take it all back, Earth.

I know that despair is not a useful emotion. It’s a vine that chokes off our ability to take action. But some days it’s tempting to surrender to it.


Zin E. Rocklyn, author of the climate-refugees novella Flowers for the Sea

Flowers for the Sea book coverI’ve always pictured the end of the world as one hot-ass Earth, boiling whatever inhabitants are left, the surface uninhabitable, forcing the remaining humans underground.

So perhaps darkness is the more applicable descriptor here.

Our days spent underneath, our nights the only freedom in fresh air that we’ll experience. Our eyes adjust, our posture changes, and what we know of humans has shifted yet again.

We’ve pushed this planet to a brink unrecognizable by recent history, and yet we have those in power who vehemently deny the facts — on more than just the weather — deciding for the rest of us that we as a human race do not matter.

Because that planted tree means nothing in the face of greed.

But we’ll brave it. There are more of us than there are of them, and we’re much more familiar with the day-to-day struggle, when money can’t be a factor because we don’t have any.

At the heart of it, I do believe humans will make it. We will forever be changed.

I am hopeful it’ll be for the better.


Nathan Ballingrud, author of The Strange and North American Lake Monsters

North American Lake Monsters coverIt’s the suffering of the innocent that gets to me. Most of us are not innocent. I can’t claim to be, nor can any of us who knowingly participate in actions and behaviors that directly contribute to the progression of global warming.

But when I see children pushed along in strollers, too young to be aware of the legacy they’ve inherited; black bears and their cubs rummaging through garbage cans in my neighborhood, desperate for something to fill their bellies; images of elephants looking for water; or when I read about the displacements and extinctions caused by the massive deforestation projects in the Amazon rainforest — I’m overwhelmed by the cruelty of it all.

The simple, selfish cold-heartedness required of us as a species to visit all this pain and terror upon the world. Whatever is coming, I guess we’ve earned it. But everything that breathes is going to have to pay right along with us.


Cassandra Khaw, game writer and author of Nothing But Blackened Teeth

Nothing But Blackened Teeth coverSomething in me broke the first time I heard the Amazon was burning. I spent days watching the footage, horrified. I couldn’t believe it. I’d always taken a strange comfort in thinking that no matter what humans did, the rainforest would close itself over our cities — at least in Malaysia, where I grew up — and bury all remnants of us in the green. To child-me, there wasn’t anything greater than the rainforest, nothing more powerful than the natural world. And if the rainforests of Malaysia were potent, the Amazon felt almost deific to me.

But then we set it ablaze.

I have nightmares about that. The fire. I have them whenever I hear of any wooded area burning to cinders. It terrifies me beyond description to think of what we’re doing to the world, and of there being a future where there’s nothing left of the green but our memories.


Wendy N. Wagner, author of The Deer Kings and editor-in-chief of Nightmare Magazine

Wendy N. WagnerIt’s impossible to live in the American West without seeing that our water cycle is badly damaged. Climate scientists say we’ve entered a megadrought, and that the region is the driest it’s been for more than 1,000 years. There is no doubt that these conditions have been caused by climate change and human mismanagement, and that the drought’s impacts will have vast repercussions across the region.

Where will our food come from when there is no water to irrigate the fields in California? Where will the fish go when the rivers run dry? How will I breathe when wildfires last longer and spread farther? I am terrified that these questions are no longer the provenance of rhetoric or dystopian projections, but ones we are facing every summer, and summer gets hotter and drier every year. I only wish zombies and werewolves were as frightening.


Christopher Golden, author of Road of Bones and Ararat

Christopher GoldenWhat frightens me more than any of the horrific daily reminders is that so many people in government and business know all of this to be true and refuse to take any real steps to combat the terrifying future ahead. All over the world, governments and corporations pay lip service to combating global warming and instead tell us plastic straws are the problem. And this pretend-ignorance makes it easy for so many people around the globe to also deny or at least ignore the reality unfolding around us.

There’s nothing in fiction or even in real life more horrifying to me than the pretense that global warming is not the most significant crisis humanity has ever faced. The century of human suffering ahead is not unimaginable. We can imagine it perfectly well. But we choose not to. Nothing is more horrific.


W. Maxwell Prince, writer of Ice Cream Man

Ice Cream Man coverThe horrors are manifold, and the horrors are already here.

I mostly just think about my daughter (she’s 5) and what kind of world she might live in when I’m planted and gone. What scares me is that there will be risk of floods no matter where she lives; that every city in this country will be prone to punishing heat waves; that wildfires will swallow up large swathes of what’s supposed to be our children’s natural landscape; that deforestation will lead to more pandemics; that drinkable water and breathable air will be in shorter and shorter supply.

I worry about that for her because that’s what’s happening now.  And there ain’t a story in the world that’s as scary as that.


Rena Mason, coeditor of Other Terrors: An Inclusive Anthology

Other Terrors coverMelting permafrost is a part of that climate change that has its own terrifying aspects, like the release of greenhouse gases, damage to ecosystems and their biodiversity, and landslides and geological accidents. But it’s all the horror we cannot see that haunts me the most: the release of parasites, viruses and bacteria, microbes over 400,000 years old lying dormant in permafrost.

With it all melting and coming back to life, what besides anthrax (which killed a 12-year-old Siberian boy in 2016) is still waiting to be uncovered? They could be older, more potent forms of familiar organisms, or some not yet known to us. These possible pathogens might enter us or our food sources unknowingly and grow, maybe even multiply and thrive within host bodies.

Invisible monsters with an endless supply of true body horror awaits.


Brian Keene, author of End of the Road and The Rising

End of the Road coverI’m a country boy. I was raised to live off the land. I live in a rural area, sandwiched between a river and a forest. It’s never not quiet here. Be it daylight or long after dark, I can always hear frogs, insects, owls, ducks, geese, squirrels, and occasionally the soft drum of deer hooves or the padded footfalls of foxes and other animals.

To think that all these could one day disappear — the silence that would follow utterly horrifies me.


Linda D. Addison, Horror Writers Association Lifetime Achievement Award recipient

Linda D. AddisonMy horror is often inspired by outrage and frustration at the bad things that humans do to one another and the world around them to feed their wounds and demons. The denial of the truth that we are all connected is disheartening. It’s this denial that is degrading Earth’s climate, causing more wildfires, drought and stronger tropical storms.

I don’t know what it’s going to take for humans to realize they can’t keep going on this way. It’s easier for many to believe we aren’t connected, that we don’t share one planet, and that the lines drawn on maps separate and protect us.

I do know the planet will survive, with or without us.

In the meantime, horror writers will continue writing of the end …

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Previously in The Revelator:

The Ask: What Environmental Issues Give Nightmares to Horror Writers?

The Free Agent Beaver

Environmentalists and journalists tend to describe beavers in the ways they benefit humans. It’s time to change that perception of nature.

Beavers are having a moment. After being hunted to near extinction, they’ve steadily made a comeback, and today both the scientific community and the public have become increasingly aware and appreciative of their profound influence on habitat.

But as environmentalists, journalists and others praise beavers and expound upon their many planet-saving virtues, a problem has emerged: Beavers are too often seen as a tool for humans, rather than animals with their own agency and agenda.

Even those of us who are closely involved with beavers through conservation organizations or habitat restoration have long defaulted to an innate personification of beavers, unfailingly objectifying them and the “ecosystem services they provide.” How many times have you read or said that beaver activities restore watershed health, provide wildfire breaks and refuges, regulate stream flows, and stabilize the water table?

That’s all true, of course. But at the same time, the inference that they’re doing it for anyone but themselves creates an imbalance, an unrealistic expectation of a species that has no interest in the issues of humans.

Beavers are not beholden to the human-caused issues of our planet, and it’s time to adjust our language to reflect that simple but profound fact.

A simple substitution of vernacular, conceptualization and attitudes toward beavers and their natural behavior is vital to creating a well-rounded understanding of the natural processes of wildlife. Endless messages — perpetuated by well-meaning journalists and others — of giving beavers a “role” or “putting beavers to work” can be explained more accurately by “attracting them to locations where they might be naturally successful.” Rather than creating a “collaboration” or “partnership” with beavers, we are simply attempting to “support beaver success” and “restore conditions needed for ecological success.”

The personification of beavers is understandable — and to a certain extent, it’s been useful. Beavers possess natural skills that the Army Corp of Engineers would envy, so the language of “utilizing,” “partnering” and “collaborating” with beavers has served as a vital bridge, as well as connecting us back to a pathway of Indigenous knowledge.

But this also perpetuates a destructive one-to-one relationship with the natural world. “What can it do for me?” has been the guiding question, instead of “How can I be a valuable part of interspecies connectedness?”

A gentle, intentional and more precise reshaping of language around beavers, and nature as whole, could help reconnect us with the origin of our knowledge of interspecies living — recognizing we are not at the “top,” and that human supremacy is a myth.

For those of us who are “beaver believers,” this is incredibly important — to signal through language a path forward in our work, where we work in relationship with natural systems.

Words matter. By placing ourselves side by side with beavers and other species, we can help cultivate and activate a gentle tidal wave that will influence our research, and our relationship to one another and the natural world — and ultimately help restore the natural balance. When we stop seeing and talking about beavers as tools and partners, and instead treat them as free agents with their own agenda completely unrelated to humans, we can collectively transition to the next phase in our conservation effort. We can reach a point where nature is not hierarchically divided in a Linnaean system but recognized as a dynamic organism in concert with itself.

The opinions expressed above are those of the authors and do not necessarily reflect those of The Revelator, the Center for Biological Diversity or their employees.

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Previously in The Revelator:

Conservation Communication: Time to Rethink the Word ‘Poacher’?

How to Vote If You’ve Been Displaced by Hurricanes

There’s still time to find out how to cast your ballot, even if you’re dealing with other recovery efforts.

Like the fires that displaced many Westerners two years ago, Hurricanes Ian and Fiona have left citizens in the Southeast with more than a few challenges — including finding out how and where to vote.

Puerto Rico got slammed hardest this hurricane season, but the territory doesn’t have any major races this November. That means the people of Puerto Rico can concentrate on recovery (again). For future reference, any disasters during voting periods could fall under “provisions of the Code on Early Voting (Article 9.37) and the power of the president to add categories when there is an emergency declaration (Article 3.4),” says Griselle López Díaz, director of communications for the Commission on Elections.

Farther north, Florida has published a web page of Hurricane Ian election resources, including information on how to find polling places and how to contact county election supervisors if you can no longer receive vote-by-mail ballots at your address of record.

Georgia doesn’t anticipate any voting problems from the hurricanes, says Robert Sinners, communications director for the Georgia secretary of state. “However, we do have a number of mobile voting units which are on standby in case of emergency,” he adds. “We deployed them to Bryan County after a recent tornado in the May primary.” (It’s worth noting that state legislators previously proposed a bill to that would make it almost impossible to deploy mobile voting.)

Finally, South Carolina — whose official voting motto is “no excuses” — has an absentee ballot process that will work for any voters still facing problems. “They can apply up to Oct. 28, just like the normal vote-by-mail process for absentee, and can get the ballot anywhere,” says John Michael Catalano, who oversees voter education outreach for the South Carolina State Election Commission.

Regardless of which state or territory you live in, experts say it’s always a good idea to have voting contingency plans in place, especially with future disasters likely to get both worse and more frequent due to climate change.

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Previously in The Revelator:

30 Ways Environmentalists Can Participate in Democracy

Nature Sings: New Protest Songs for the Climate Emergency

Listen to new songs addressing the climate crisis by Julian Lennon, Midnight Oil, Laurie Anderson, Brian Eno, The Stop Shopping Choir and many others.

The protest song is alive and well — and oh-so-necessary in an age when the musical sounds of nature are quickly vanishing.

Here are eight new projects, ranging from singles by environmentally conscious singers to massive benefit projects encompassing hundreds of artists — all celebrating the natural world and protesting its destruction.


“Eve of Destruction”

by 20Twenties

South African vocalist Anneli Kamfer brings new life — and more than a little bit of pain — to this stunning update to the classic 1960s protest song. Originally written by P.F. Sloan, the lyrics have been updated for the modern era by Daily Maverick climate journalists Branko Brkic and Tiara Walters. Read the backstory of the new production here and crank up the volume to watch the video below:

change without us

by Reverend Billy & The Stop Shopping Choir

Perhaps best known for their track “Monsanto Is the Devil,” the Stop Shopping Choir is back with eight new songs prepared in time for their protests this past spring at the COP26 Climate Summit in Glasgow. Rev. Billy (a Revelator contributor) belts out preacher-style lyrics in many of these songs, while additional members of the environmental protest group take the lead on others. Produced by Savitri D, the album’s eight heavenly songs — like “Love With Extinction” and “The Great Outdoors” — will have you rising to your feet and ready to raise hell against ecosystem-destroying corporations.

Listen to the title track below:

Antarctica: Music From the Ice

by Cheryl E. Leonard

The first time you hear it, the soft music and gently running waters on this album’s eight tracks sound like something playing in the background while you get a massage or take a yoga class. That’s before you realize the water sounds have been recorded on melting glaciers and that some of the musical instruments have been assembled from ethically collected penguin bones. If that sounds macabre to you, you’re right — but it’s also hauntingly beautiful. Listening to a dying ecosystem has never been so moving.

Check out the track “Lullaby for E Seals” here:

Resist

by Midnight Oil

Frontman Peter Garrett knows his Earth-related issues. In addition to his decades of work with Midnight Oil, he served as Australia’s minister for the environment, heritage and the arts from 2007 to 2010 and logged many years of environmental activism on top of that. This new album, accompanied by the band’s farewell tour, carries the angry sense of urgency and rocking beats you might remember from songs like “Beds Are Burning” to new tracks like “Last Frontier,” “Reef” and “Rising Seas” — the video for which appears below:

FOREVERANDEVERNOMORE

by Brian Eno

Eno makes his first appearance on this list with an album dedicated to exploring feelings about the climate emergency. Unlike his ambient albums, Eno sings on this LP — and he does so with powerful, lyrical emotion.

Listen to a live recording of the song “There Were Bells” here:

EarthPercent x Earth Day Compilation Album

by 100 various artists

Sorry, you can’t listen to this one yet. EarthPercent — the Brian Eno-founded nonprofit dedicated to greening the music industry — has so far only made this 100-track album available during two separate 24-hour periods (one of which, you might guess from the title, was on Earth Day). If it becomes available for purchase again, you’ll find exclusive songs from Eno, Pater Gabriel, R.E.M.’s Michael Stipe, and many others, from a wide range of genres. Many of the songs, though far from all, cover environmental themes.

Although you can’t buy this specific album or sample any of its tracks, dozens of artists — including Anna Calvi, Death Cab for Cutie, Violet Skies and Wayne Snow — have other songs or albums available through EarthPercent’s Bandcamp page (which you can also follow for notifications of new releases). Proceeds from each download support organizations addressing the climate emergency.

Listen to Death Cab for Cutie’s song “Foxglove Through the Clearcut,” from their EarthPercent-benefitting album Asphalt Meadows:

“Change”

by Julian Lennon

This single — commissioned by a conservation marketing company called Everland — wraps up existential climate dread and positive inspiration in just under four minutes. It’s a welcome return from an artist who’s devoted much of his career to protecting the environment and supporting Indigenous peoples.

Watch the video here:

For the Birds: The Birdsong Project

by 220+ artists

Produced by Grammy winner Randall Poster, this massive project of songs and spoken-word performances came out in 20 smaller collections over the past few months. The whole thing is now up on Spotify and other streaming platforms, and it will soon be available as a vinyl boxed set. Contributors include Esperanza Spalding, Elvis Costello, Jonathan Franzen, Jeff Goldblum, Mark Mothersbaugh, John Lithgow, Bette Midler and many others.

In addition to streaming, “Birdsong” tracks have migrated to YouTube. Here’s a great video of Yo-Yo Ma and Anna Clyne’s song “In the Gale,” which is accompanied by a flock of singing birds:

And for something completely different, check out Laurie Anderson’s fable/song “Before the World.”

Previously in The Revelator:

Rage Against the Anthropocene: The Extinction Crisis Gets an ‘Eco-slam’ Soundtrack

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What Snails Can Teach Us About the Extinction Crisis

A new book about efforts to save endangered snails in Hawai‘i provides valuable insight into threats to global biodiversity.

Perhaps you’ve heard of George. He died on New Year’s Day in 2019. A so-called “endling,” George was believed to be the last known individual of his species — Achatinella apexfulva — a kind of Hawaiian tree snail.

His passing generated a buzz of media coverage, but the plight of the world’s endangered snails wasn’t long for the limelight.

Thom van Dooren wants to change that.the ask

Van Dooren is a field philosopher and author, and his research and writing focus on the ethical, cultural and political issues around extinctions. While in Hawai‘i in 2013 writing about birds, the subjects of three of his previous three books, he met George and the small, but dedicated group of researchers working to protect Hawaiian snails.

He was hooked.

The Hawaiian islands, he learned, are home to staggering diversity of snails — with more than 750 species known to science. Sadly, though, at least two-thirds of those are already extinct, and some 50 more sit on the brink.

Van Dooren set out to learn why and what could be done to save the remaining populations. The result is the new book, A World in a Shell: Snail Stories for a Time of Extinctions, which tracks efforts to save the islands’ imperiled snails — including the work of the Snail Extinction Prevention Program.Book cover

The book provides insight into not just struggling gastropods in Hawai‘i but our global biodiversity crisis.

The Revelator spoke to van Dooren about why conservation efforts overlook invertebrates, what we can do about that, and whether Hawaiian snails stand a chance.

Why have things gotten so bad for snails in Hawai‘i?

The decline begins with the arrival of Polynesian people and the clearing of lowland areas for agriculture and the introduction of the Polynesian rat, which we now understand was not just about rats eating snails, but about rats eating seeds and transforming the forest environment in a way that didn’t work out particularly well for snails.

Those initial processes drastically scaled up with the arrival of European and American colonists.

Nine snails photographed on leaves
Oahu tree snails. Photo: David Sischo, USFWS – Pacific Region (CC BY-NC 2.0)

Then, in the beginning of the 19th century with the arrival of Christian missionaries, we began to see a global trade of species, which is about sandalwood being logged in Hawai‘i and exported elsewhere. It’s about the arrival of more rats, European rats and others, that are also snail predators and also impact the forests.

And then it’s about the arrival of plantations of sugar, especially, and pineapple and ranching in the islands. All of these things cleared a lot of forests and drastically transformed what was left.

Then we have the shell collectors who arrived with the missionaries in the 1820s. Most likely, although we don’t have good records, they drove some species very close to, or even over the edge, of extinction.

And then came more predators with the arrival of the rosy wolfsnail, a carnivorous snail that tracks the native snails with their slime, and is, as one of the biologists put it, “vacuuming up the remaining species.”

And all the while, going on through all of this, is habitat loss caused by the military and tourism.

There’s so much going on condensed into these relatively small bits of land that have been sought after by so many people in different ways. And so much has been squeezed from them. The snails are really a casualty of that. I don’t think that’s a completely unique story. Many contemporary extinctions are about multiple interwoven causes, and they’re causes that cut across these kinds of ecological and cultural processes.

There are a lot of fascinating — and endangered — snails throughout the world. Why focus only on Hawai‘i?

I think there is a bit of a tendency to think about extinction as broadly an anthropogenic crisis, rather than looking at more specific details around particular extinctions. If we just tell global stories about extinction, we end up not really being able to say anything more than that humanity is the problem.

But by zooming in on Hawai‘i, I think that enables us to think about how extinction is tangled up with processes of colonization, militarization, globalization, et cetera. It’s not something that’s caused by humanity in the general sense. But it’s a much more concrete process of loss that’s tied in with particular histories, particular ways of ordering human life, particular ways of generating profit and of valuing and understanding the world.

And snails are also a victim of an invertebrate bias in conservation?

Yes, and it’s something that I have been guilty of myself in writing about birds for so long.

But 99% of the animal kingdom is invertebrates. Most of them haven’t even been described by science, and they’re disappearing rapidly. A lot of them are disappearing without ever even being described or named. But even the ones that have been, we often know very little about them.

If we’re lucky enough to know that they are endangered, we often don’t know enough about their life histories or about their needs to really understand what to do about it.

We talk about the biodiversity crisis as though we know what it is, as though we know who some of the main actors are — and they’re all big mammals and birds — but there really is this whole other unseen extinction crisis going on that’s really not very well understood, let alone spoken about.

How do we overcome that bias?

We need to approach the biodiversity crisis differently. It’s not just a case of developing a new category of charismatic microfauna and trying to add the odd snail or beetle onto that list of charismatic species. What we really learn from invertebrates is that there are just too many species and there are just too many of them at risk at the moment for us to continue to entertain a kind of one-by-one approach to conservation.

Of course, we’ve known that for a very long time, and there have been many other approaches to thinking about biodiversity loss on an ecosystem level, for example. We need to continue to do that. We need to continue to be thinking about habitat and about large-scale processes and about protecting whole groups of species together rather than one by one.

I also think there’s fundamentally a kind of creative and imaginative element to this puzzle, a need to rethink how we value species and how we relate to them so that we can learn to care in new ways.

area of vegetation surrounded by fence on hillside
Exclosure to protect Oahu tree snails. Photo: Hawaii Department of Land and Natural Resource Conservation (CC BY-NC 2.0)

We need new practices of imagination and storytelling. That’s about our educational programs and biases against invertebrates in films and schools and all sorts of things. It’s about the way in which we often instrumentalize biodiversity to — even in the case of invertebrates — focus on the beautiful ones like the butterflies, or the useful ones like the bees, instead of really trying to cultivate a sense of appreciation for all these relationships that are going on all around us.

What I’ve tried to do in this book, in part, is to think about how snails inhabit their worlds, how they navigate and make sense, about snail socialities and reproduction, and all these fascinating things that are going on as a way of trying to thicken our sense of who they are and to create a greater sense of appreciation.

I think that kind of cultivation of a sense of appreciation and wonder is a transferable skill. If we can do it with some species, it can ripple out from there to help us to appreciate the wider world.

One of the things you write about are the “exclosures” — these fenced refuges for rare snails that have been constructed to try and protect them. While that program has been largely successful, you also question what happens if they’ve created an ark where the passengers can never get off. How do you grapple with the success of saving species if they’ll remain in captivity? 

I think we do have to sit with that, and we do have to acknowledge that some species, like Achatinella apexfulva, have been lost in the ark and in these fenced exclosures — and others probably will be too.

So even if life in the forest again becomes possible at some point in the future for these species, it won’t be for all of them. I think we should hold onto that. I think that’s about an honest reckoning with what’s going on in the world around us.

I think we should grapple with the complexity of the situations we’re in. The cultural pressure to always share some good news stories isn’t always helpful and can be very dismissive and alienating for people who are really struggling and living — like the scientists in this case — in the midst of this ongoing loss.

That’s why I end [the book] on this note of mournful hope that I think is really important. There are still possibilities here for a fuller sense of snail life, for getting snails back out into the world, but we really don’t know how that would be achieved at this stage.

There’s an element of bearing witness in this book and in a lot of my writing that’s about not trying to rush to the good news or to the solution but to try and honestly hold in our presence what has been lost so that we can learn from it, feel responsible for it. And also as an ethical obligation to those who have been lost, that they not be just forgotten.


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Previously in The Revelator:

Hawaii’s Snail Extinction Crisis: ‘We’re Just Trying to Stop the Bleeding’

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The Amazing Ways Nature Cooperates — and We Benefit

The theory of evolution driven by competition is only part of the story, a new book reveals.

Excerpted from Sweet in Tooth and Claw: Stories of Generosity and Cooperation in the Natural World ©2022 by Kristin Ohlson. Reprinted with permission by Patagonia.

The view of evolution as a process driven by competition and selfishness was thoroughly shaken up in the 1960s by evolutionary biologist Lynn Margulis. She was fascinated by the microbial world; her daughter Jennifer Margulis says that she called herself a “spokesperson for the microcosm.”

In a paper that was rejected by fifteen scientific journals before it was published, Margulis pointed back to the earliest days of life on Earth and argued that single-celled organisms (bacteria appeared some 3.8 billion years ago) made a dramatic leap into multicellular complexity via symbiosis some one and a half billion years ago.

In this hypothesis, two different microorganisms lived in community — as bacteria still do, forming slimes and mats in which millions live and interact with each other — and merged to form a new and more internally complex kind of cell called a eukaryote. Those eukaryotic cells themselves went on to form symbioses to become mul­ticellular organisms.

Eukaryotic cells contain bundled structures outside the cell nucleus — mitochondria, which produce energy, and, in plants, chloroplasts, which drive photosynthesis — and Margulis argued that both are remnants of formerly free- living bacteria. This line of thinking stretched all the way back to the work of early twentieth-century Russian scientists who embraced both Kropotkin and Darwin but were ignored in the West at the time.

When Margulis presented her work, it took ten years for most of the rest of science to stop damning her as a heretic, but her arguments are now widely accepted. Every bit of our bodies, as well as those of other an­imals, plants, and fungi, are made of eukaryotic cells — these minuscule bundles of cooperation that transformed Earth more than anything except for the emergence of life itself.

A friend who heard I was working on this book sent me a marvelous essay by neuroscientist Kelly Clancy for Nautilus magazine called “Survival of the Friendliest,” which introduced me to the concept of “relaxed selection.” As Clancy points out in the essay, natural selection — the weeding out of members of a species that have traits that make them less likely to survive, and the resulting surge of others with more helpful traits — can be “relaxed” by events outside an organism’s control, like a drop in the number of predators or the sudden increase in a food source or a long spate of fine weather, and this relaxation allows organisms the freedom to change and grow in new ways.

But selection can also be relaxed by the actions of the organisms themselves. “Evolution isn’t just selecting for bodies,” Clancy explained to me. “It’s selecting for behaviors, postures, mating dances, habitats. It’s beavers making dams, and humans making cities. It operates on a cultural level.”book cover with birds on cactus

The ancient fusion of microorganisms that created eukaryotic cells was surely an example of relaxed selection: the two single-celled organisms struck a bargain in which one found a safe environment inside the other, and the host acquired an onsite energy source. “Here, evolution is not a weapons race, but a peace treaty among interdependent nations,” Clancy writes. The new eukaryotic cell was given the freedom by this union to expand its numbers and be more biologically creative — a creativity that ultimately led to greater complexities like us and all the animals, plants, and fungi in our world.

Relaxed selection goes on all around us, offering similar freedoms to other organisms. Clancy’s essay points to one fascinating example that goes on in oceans around the world. There, the cyanobacteria Synechococcus and Prochlorococcus live side by side in floating communities. Both feed themselves via photosynthesis, turning sunlight and carbon dioxide into a sugary fuel. But as they photosynthesize, they create a toxic byproduct and need to protect themselves by squirting an enzyme into the water to counter it.

It takes a lot of energy to produce the enzyme, and only Synechococcus has the gene to do it. But Prochlorococcus benefits all the same, as the enzyme Synechococcus produces wafts through their common soup and becomes a shared good. Prochlorococcus doesn’t need to waste any energy producing the enzyme and, instead, can focus more energy on reproduction. And it does a champion job of it, benefiting the entire ocean community. Researchers say the trillions of Prochlorococcus in the seas weigh as much as two hundred and twenty million Volkswagen Beetles, providing food to thousands of other ocean creatures and generating 5 percent of Earth’s oxygen.

Scientists theorize that Prochlorococcus once had the gene to produce the enzyme, but that living in a cooperative community where other cyanobacteria do the job for free allowed it to lose that gene. This theory is hilariously called the Black Queen Hypothesis, after the card game Hearts, in which players ditch cards trying to avoid getting stuck with the queen of spades. It counters another biological theory called the Red Queen Hypothesis, which suggests that competing organisms are involved in a constant evolutionary arms race — based on Wonderland’s Red Queen telling Alice that “it takes all the running you can do, to keep in the same place.”

Most of us assume that evolution tweaks organisms to become more complex in order to succeed, but scientists theorize that evolution works in the reverse way, too: when organisms obtain shared goods from others in their community, they can afford to become less complex. Reminds me of some marriages: he forgets how to do the laundry, she forgets how to fire up the grill, and they use the freedom granted by their union for something else. Gardening? Reading? Petting the dog?

We humans have prospered as a species for a number of reasons, but one is certainly the marvelous inventions that have allowed us to relax selection. Agriculture and medicine, buildings and heating systems, and traffic signals and bike helmets — all allow us to thrive. Our problem now is that many of these inventions and our resulting abundance increases the pressure on the rest of nature, rupturing ecosystems and driving other species to extinction. And the abundance itself doesn’t even nurture everyone within our own species, with some so wealthy they have gold toilets and others so poor they squat in ditches. We need to relax our pressure on the rest of nature, guided by new metaphors for our relationships with other species — metaphors that will hopefully spill over into our relationships with each other. We need to be sweeter.

©2022 by Kristin Ohlson. Reprinted with permission by Patagonia.

Previously in The Revelator

These Books Are for the Birds (and Bugs)

 

30 Ways Environmentalists Can Participate in Democracy

Voting on election day is job one, but the planet needs your civic commitment every other day of the year, too.

Wolves and frogs can’t vote, a lake or river can’t call their elected representatives, and a polluted ravine can’t blow the whistle on a toxic coal plant.

But you can do all those things — and more.

The trouble is, not enough people who care about climate change, the extinction crisis or environmental justice make themselves known to the people who can make a systemic difference.

“The truth is the environmental movement needs more political power,” says Nathaniel Stinnett, executive director of the Environmental Voter Project. “We can’t rely on politicians doing the right thing. Instead, we need to get more political power so that they lead on our issues because it’s politically smart.”

So how do environmentalists get that power, especially in an age when so many feel powerless? One route starts by engaging in democracy — not just by voting in the midterms or general elections, but by participating in our civic systems year-round, at the federal and local levels, on an ongoing basis.

“Voting isn’t important just because you can elect the right people,” Stinnett says. “It’s also important because in between elections is when policy is made.”

earth overshoot
Ocean Biology Processing Group at NASA’s Goddard Space Flight Center, public domain

It’s hard to influence policy, though, if people don’t participate in the political system. And if people don’t feel they have a voice, it can create a feedback loop that makes them even less likely to vote.

“In certain states, the number of unlikely voters who list climate and the environment as their top priority is twice as large as the number of likely voters,” Stinnett says. “You can see that data and get frustrated, or you can see it as an enormous opportunity.”

That opportunity comes from getting more people who care about the environment to vote and otherwise engage — something those who are already active on those fronts can encourage by being public about their environmental concerns and what they’re doing about them.

That will help build support for issues that, ironically, people already care about but don’t speak of in political contexts.

“Human beings are social animals,” Stinnett adds. “One of the most impactful things environmentalists can do in the civic sphere and the political sphere is to be loud and proud about being an environmental voter and a political activist. Your friends and colleagues look to you for cues as to what is good behavior, and it’s up to everyone who cares about the environment to model that voting is part of what makes a good environmentalist.”

Kathleen Hall Jamieson, director of the Annenberg Public Policy Center at the University of Pennsylvania, says the most important thing beyond voting itself is to speak proudly about your environmental commitments. “One of the ways in which we could increase the likelihood that we perceive that climate action itself is normative is for us to speak out more as individuals and find ways to represent our climate commitments as a form of almost personal witness.”

Our personal achievements and goals have another benefit: They work as an antidote to the feeling of helplessness that pervades society and erodes trust in our institutions.

“Your vote is an expression of your commitments to things, and that has an impact,” says Jamieson.


So let’s increase that impact. Here are 30 ways environmentalists can participate in democracy to better themselves, their communities and the planet throughout the year.

vote sign on a tree
Photo by Manny Becerra on Unsplash

1. Vote. That’s job one, in every election, no matter how big or how small, and whether it’s national or local. Too many environmentalists don’t vote, and that means their voices get lost.

“The simple truth is that politicians don’t care about the priorities of non-voters,” says Stinnett. “Politicians don’t poll unlikely voters. They don’t poll the people who stay at home. So simply by voting, you become a first-class citizen. You make sure that your policy preferences and your policy priorities drive decision-making.”

2. Encourage others to vote. Are your friends, family members and neighbors registered? They can check their registration status at Vote.org, where they can also make a pledge to vote. Come to think of it, you can do that, too.

Voter registration
Earth Day voter registration event in Mill Valley, Calif. (Photo by Fabrice Florin, CC BY-SA 2.0)

3. Help others vote. Sometimes just getting to the polls can be an overwhelming challenge. You can help by freeing up peoples’ time — for example, by offering free babysitting — or volunteering to drive someone who lacks access to transportation or has health issues that prevent them from driving. Your community may already have initiatives you can volunteer through, or you can find people in need through Carpool Vote. (Need a ride? You can also find one there.) And of course, carpooling is always a greener option than each person driving.

4. Demand a plan and an accounting. Insist that political candidates and elected officials publish their proposed and current climate policies — then take that idea much further and make it broader. “I want everybody to have a climate action plan for themselves and for every community and organization,” says Jamieson. Each climate action plan, she says, should be “real and accountable, with demonstrated benchmarks.”

And this isn’t just about government. Jamieson says we should expect the same from our employers, our kids’ schools, our places of worship, and the companies with which we do business.

5. Keep track. Once people and organizations make their climate plans known, hold them to it. “We know when people make public commitments, you increase the likelihood they act on those commitments,” says Jamieson. “They’re going to be accountable.”

6. Learn how to sort fact from fiction during election season. The News Literacy Project and the League of Women Voters will host three webinars about disinformation over the next few weeks.

7. Be a good boss. Got employees? Give them paid time off to vote. Maybe close your business to the public for half a day so you can all go together. (Got a boss? Ask for time off yourself.)

8. Sign up to be a poll worker. Anyone can volunteer to do this essential job, not just retired folx (and unfortunately the need has never been greater due to ongoing threats against election workers). The website Stacker has compiled details on how to become a poll worker and what to expect from the experience.

9. Support voting-rights organizations. Think voter suppression doesn’t affect you? Think again.

“The people who are most likely to care deeply about climate and other environmental issues are young, lower income and people of color — and they also happen to be the three groups that are always the objective of voter-suppression efforts,” says Stinnett. Volunteering or donating to groups like Fair Fight, the ACLU, Voting Rights Lab or the NAACP Legal Defense Fund can help ensure everyone can always freely elect their representatives and shape environmental policy.

10. Support ranked-choice voting. As we discussed in a recent op-ed, this is a great way to weed out extremist candidates and balance bipartisanship.

A notable victory took place this year in Australia, where ranked-choice voting helped push coal-supporting politicians out of power — even with the country’s media dominated by notoriously climate-denying publications owned by Rupert Murdoch. “I really love that it made a difference in Australia,” says Jamieson. “They basically managed to defeat the Murdoch anti-climate agenda with ranked-choice voting.”

11. Support environmental groups. Whether you donate or volunteer, they’ll amplify the collective voices of people advocating for better environmental laws and policies.

Coastal redwoods
Coastal redwood trees in Humboldt, California. (Photo by trevorklatko, CC BY-NC 2.0)

12. Advocate for or against specific regulations, either by yourself or as part of a broader grassroots environmental effort. Rules and opportunities vary by state, so check with the groups and experts in your area.

13. Run for office (or encourage a friend to run). You don’t need to run for president to make a difference. Local offices like city councils, parks commissions, utilities and school boards — a particular target of extremist takeover attempts — can have tremendous impact on a region’s environmental policies.

14. Volunteer for local positions. Nonelected government and community positions need climate expertise. Is there a role for you and your environmental perspective on your local planning commission, library board, arts council, parks and recreation committee, PTA, homeowners’ association, Rotary Club or other institution?

15. Write to elected officials. Your opinions matter year-round, so drop your senator, mayor, governor or other representative a line to discuss what matters to you or how they’re doing. (You can do this on social media or through their official phone and email channels, which tend to have more impact.)

16. Sign petitions. Amplify your voice through collective impact. Whenever possible, focus on petitions organized by groups that actively collect and deliver your signatures.

17. Submit public comments on proposed regulations and projects. You may be surprised how few people do this, and you don’t want anti-environmental advocates to have the only say. You can find open calls for comment on the federal level at Regulations.gov, or do a web search for your state or county for more local opportunities (which you may find listed under multiple agencies).

18. Join lawful protests. The bigger, the better. The media notices, and so do politicians.

protest
Photo by Mirah Curzer on Unsplash

19. Read banned and challenged books — and share what you learn from them with friends, colleagues and elected officials. Nothing scares authoritarians and corporatists more than independent thinking and dangerous ideas — well, dangerous to them, anyway.

20. Take a civics class. It’s probably been a few years; we could all use a refresher. You can find some great, free, self-paced online classes on U.S. government and civics from Khan Academy, Harvard Law School, the Bill of Rights Institute and the Center for Civic Education.

21. Support a free press. Read, share, subscribe, give gift subscriptions, buy ads, donate — especially local news publications, which have really suffered in recent years, and in too many cases stopped publishing. This has given rise to dangerous news deserts — regions without an effective Fourth Estate — an important issue for democracy. Studies show that informed civic participation goes down as news deserts emerge. And when civic participation goes down, corporate malfeasance goes up and government accountability declines.

newspapers
Photo: Jeff Eaton (CC BY-SA 2.0)

22. Send local story tips to the media or share ideas for environmental coverage with the bigger outlets. Journalists depend on an active populace, and you should never underestimate the power of a good whistleblower. (Hint: We like tips.)

23. Have discussions. Not everyone fully understands the threats of climate change or biodiversity loss or comprehends the systemic causes of environmental injustice. Sometimes that means breaking through their sources of disinformation (Skeptical Science can help with that). Other times it requires some back and forth. The First Amendment Museum offers tips on having a civil conversation that will change someone’s mind, while Psyche magazine offers advice on how to have better arguments.

24. Avoid the cult of personality. Talk about issues and the effectiveness/ineffectiveness of specific environmental legislation rather than individual candidates. (And if your preferred candidate doesn’t win, don’t take it personally or get dissuaded.)

25. Show up and speak at town halls, planning board meetings, school board meetings — anywhere the public can help shape policy. The Earth can’t speak for itself, so someone needs to — especially since proponents of development or other destructive projects will certainly show up.

26. Propose ballot initiatives or their local equivalents. The process and nature of these types of initiatives, which allow citizens to vote directly on major issues, vary by state and municipality, so check with your local experts to see what you can do.

27. Self-advertise. Those ubiquitous “I voted” stickers on election day serve multiple purposes: They display our pride and remind others to get to the polls. But why limit that to one day a year? Buttons, bumper stickers, social-media icons and even memes can remind people year-round of the need to vote or otherwise participate — and hold you up as an example of someone who does.

"I Voted" stickers
Photo: Phil Roeder (CC BY 2.0)

28. Support libraries, museums, community centers and local organizations that themselves support an engaged, educated community. Encourage them to set up displays on environmental topics, organize speakers, conduct outreach efforts, or whatever best fits their mission.

29. Spread the news about the ways democracy is in peril. Attacks on voting, the right to protest, the media, LGBTQ+ rights and other freedoms are symptoms of the worldwide rise in authoritarian forces. And as authoritarian governments rise, environmental protections fall. (Nazi Germany and modern-day Russia are notable examples.) Keep track of these threats, especially the home-grown kind, and spread the word about the dangers they pose. (There’s no single source devoted to tracking this, so it may require keeping your eyes open. A good starting place, though, is these newsletters from Democracy Docket.)

30. Have (and share) a contingency plan. In our age of ever-increasing climate disasters, far too many people every year find themselves displaced by fire, smoke, flood or other kinds of crisis. Don’t let that interfere with your ability to vote and otherwise participate. Do your research early so you know how to contact your representatives or election officials in case something forces you to flee your community. And share what you learned with your neighbors so others aren’t disenfranchised.

And finally, keep going. You can find many more ideas for encouraging systemic change in our 30-day climate action plan.

Creative Commons

Previously in The Revelator:

7 Environmental Takeaways From the 2020 Election Season

Developers Loom As Boy Scouts Sell Thousands of Acres to Compensate Sexual Assault Victims

Conservation groups rush to preserve camps across the United States as some properties sell to the highest bidder. Will they succeed?

Maine’s Androscoggin Land Trust just achieved a goal some thought it wouldn’t be able to achieve: It purchased the 95-acre Camp Gustin, located about 30 miles southwest of the state capital, for $415,000. The Trust, which solicited public donations to conserve the land, was able to complete the acquisition after it secured a loan from nonprofit The Conservation Fund and a grant from the state.

Camp Gustin was named after Charles Gustin, who donated the land to the Boy Scouts of America’s Pine Tree Council in the 1940s after his sons attended a scouting camp on the coast. Gustin’s descendants made a public plea last year to preserve the property, which the Pine Tree Council planned to sell to the highest bidder to contribute to its share of the Boy Scouts of America’s $2.46 billion victim compensation fund tied to its now-infamous child sexual abuse cases.

“It’s a very proud moment for them because they were very scared that the Pine Tree Council was going to sell to developers,” says Aimee Dorval, the Androscoggin Land Trust’s executive director.

The acquisition is part of a larger effort by the Trust to conserve hundreds of acres of land in Maine at risk of development. Dorval says it plans to open the camp to the public for camping and other recreational activities — and will also continue to allow Boy Scouts to use the land.

 

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The ability to preserve land like Camp Gustin remains a source of worry for many conservationists — not just in Maine but around the country.

The Boy Scouts of America and their local councils intend to sell thousands of acres of land — including properties where some of the abuse took place — to compensate sexual abuse victims.

This September a judge in Delaware allowed the national organization to exit Chapter 11 bankruptcy and continue operating while settling decades of claims by more than 80,000 men who allege they were abused by troop leaders as children. The Scouts filed for bankruptcy in February 2020 amid declining membership and mounting legal costs from the lawsuits.

To help pay for the compensation fund, the Boy Scouts’ local councils are legally required to contribute at least $515 million.

Scouting Land

For more than a century, the Boy Scouts have acquired most of their land through gifts and charitable donations made by people who wanted these properties preserved.

It’s unclear how much land belongs to the national Boy Scouts, because some properties are owned and managed by the organization’s more than 250 local councils, which are separate nonprofits, “distinct and financially independent from the national organization,” the Boy Scouts of America says in a statement. By some estimates, the local Scout councils own 2,000 camp properties, worth billions of dollars.

wooden scout park sign
The 377-acre Holcomb Valley Ranch went on the market in 2021 for $12 million. Photo: Wikimedia Commons

Each local council receives a charter, much like a franchise agreement, from the national Boy Scouts organization. A local council’s charter can be revoked at any time by the national organization, according to the Boy Scouts bylaws.

Without a charter, a local council’s land would become the property of the national organization.

Environmental groups and government officials are trying to find ways to conserve this land before the Boy Scouts and councils sell it off to developers. They find themselves juggling the organization’s desires for quick turnover and maximum profit while also respecting the fact that some of these sites are places where horrific events took place.

If they succeed, it would further the better aspects of the Boy Scouts’ legacy: The Scouts have a long history of conserving land, some of which are highlighted in the organization’s Conservation Handbook.

Today the Boy Scouts’ conservation efforts are threatened by their own debt to the thousands of people they harmed. Critics say they’re selling off land to the highest bidder without consideration for the environment — or the tenants of the organization.

After months of emails and calls, Boy Scouts of America could not be reached for comment.

But other groups went on the record.

Close Calls

Conservation groups across the country represent one of the primary efforts to buy land from the Scouts’ local councils.

They don’t always succeed.

In 2019 the Michigan Crossroads Council of Boy Scouts sold Silver Trails Scout Reservation, a 270-acre campground near Port Huron. A nonprofit called Thumb Land Conservancy tried to buy it but lost out when the Scouts sold it to a gravel-mining company for $1.8 million.

More recently, in June, Seneca Waterways Council in New York voted to sell Camp Babcock-Hovey, a 293-acre campground on the shore of Seneca Lake that opened in 1937. The buyer of this $8 million property has not been disclosed, and calls to the national Boy Scouts press office remain unanswered.

The council will continue to operate the camp until October.

“The loss of Camp Babcock-Hovey is painful, especially for those who have spent treasured weeks of their Scouting careers there, or more than that, have dedicated significant portions of their lifetimes caring for that beautiful camp and providing leadership for its staff and campers,” wrote the council’s executive committee in June, explaining its decision to close the camp.

Other councils in New York face similar choices.

Camp Barton, which operated as a Boy Scout camp for more than a century, is among those on the chopping block.

Fred Bonn, regional director of New York state parks in the Finger Lakes where Camp Barton is located, says the state is working with three municipalities to buy 96 of the 130 acres of the former camp.

While the state parks department will buy the land, Bonn says the property — which will become a public park — will ultimately be managed by the cities of Covert, Ulysses and Trumansburg.

The remaining 34 acres of Camp Barton have been sold, says Bonn, adding that he doesn’t know if the buyer plans to develop the land or not.

Developers came close to buying the Deer Lake Scout Reservation in Killingworth, Connecticut.

After a yearlong battle, the Connecticut Yankee Boy Scouts Council agreed in September to sell Deer Lake, which was named in a 2012 lawsuit as a site where abuse took place, to Pathfinders, Inc., a local nonprofit that says it will maintain the property as a camp.

wooded park area with leaves on the ground
Deer Lake Scout Reservation. Photo: Wikimedia Commons

Connecticut Senator Richard Blumenthal praised the move, writing on Twitter: “This precious natural treasure will be an enduring legacy for generations of nature lovers thanks to a great activist partnership. It’s a proud moment for the conservation movement.”

The council previously rejected Pathfinders’ offer to buy the land for $2.4 million.

Fearing the land would be lost to developers, Sen. Blumenthal told the press in June that he was looking into the possibility of using federal funds from the National Park Service’s Land and Water Conservation Fund to help buy Deer Lake and other Boy Scout properties that are up for sale around the country.

The Federal Role — and Challenge

But getting the National Park Service involved in the purchase of Boy Scout properties can be “pretty complicated,” says Joel Lynch, who runs the agency’s state and local assistance programs, which includes the Land and Water Conservation Fund.

The federal program, funded primarily by revenue generated from offshore oil and gas leases, supports projects to protect natural resources across the country.

Lynch says the Fund is driven by state governments, which submit outdoor recreation plans to the National Park Service every five years to help fund projects that could include the purchase of former Boy Scouts properties.

“I do see all the projects, so I haven’t necessarily seen an uptick, but I’m almost expecting to see something,” he says.

The only way for the National Park Service to step in, Lynch says, is if the Boy Scout property is within the boundaries of land owned by the agency.

But no one knows how many properties the Boy Scouts and their local councils own in general, let alone the amount within National Park Service boundaries.

Even if there were a list, Lynch says, all state-submitted projects still must go through an approval process to receive money from the Land and Water Conservation Fund. That can often take so long that the property they want to purchase goes off the market.

A way around that, he says, is for a state to collaborate with a land conservancy. In some cases, these local organizations will purchase properties using their own funds because it’s simply faster.

Ironically, the Boy Scouts themselves historically worked with land conservancies, like The Trust for Public Land, to purchase properties across the country. This was the case for the William H. Pouch Scout Camp on Staten Island, which was nearly sold in 2010 when the Greater New York Councils of the Boy Scouts of America, the camp’s owner, could no longer afford to maintain it.

The Boy Scouts have also worked with the U.S. Forest Service to preserve land when they couldn’t.

Since as early as 1937, the Forest Service has acquired almost 9,000 acres of land from the Boy Scouts.

The last time the agency acquired land from the Boy Scouts was in 2016. It has no plans of acquiring more, a Forest Service spokesperson wrote in an email.

Historic Atrocities

Some Boy Scouts property could be preserved from development thanks to a growing movement calling for the return of Native lands to Native nations so they can preserve it according to Tribal values. Most, if not all, of the property owned by the Boy Scouts and their local councils is on land stolen from Indigenous peoples.

“Landback is the literal reclamation of land of Indigenous peoples who’ve been forcibly removed from their lands on behalf of colonialism,” says Krystal Two Bulls, director of NDN Collective’s landback campaign. “But it’s also the reclamation of everything stolen from us.”

 

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Two Bulls says Native nations are forming land conservancies to acquire ancestral lands. Many of these Native-led organizations don’t have the necessary funds to do this on their own, so they partner with government agencies or environmental groups to share costs — although even that is, in its own way, another element of colonization.

“I don’t think that we should have to purchase land that was stolen in the first place,” she says.

NDN Collective has a fund that lends money to tribes so they can buy their land back, including property currently owned by the Boy Scouts.

Because no one knows exactly how much property the Boy Scouts and their local councils own, it’s difficult to determine the land that’s been stolen and the Native nation it belongs to.

Reviewing records of treaties between the U.S. and Native nations is one way to try to find out, Two Bulls says.

“I think that’s how primarily we’ve been able to know that those are traditional territories, but I don’t underestimate Nations’ abilities to know through pre-colonial storytelling where they’re from because so many tribes have been displaced.”

At least one Native nation is trying to reclaim stolen land now for sale by the Boy Scouts.

The Esselen Tribe of Monterey County, in California, has put in a bid to buy Camp Pico Blanco in Big Sur from the Silicon Valley Monterey Bay Council.

When the land went up for sale, the nonprofit Western Rivers Conservancy agreed to pay for the property and transfer it to the Esselen Tribe.

But despite the Tribe’s deep ties to the land, the Silicon Valley Monterey Bay Council, as of September, has not yet chosen a buyer.

Eric Tarbox, the council’s deputy scout executive, told the Monterey Herald in April that Camp Pico Blanco was being sold not because of the sexual-assault judgments but due to damage caused by wildfires.

“Scouts are not able to use the camp and may not be able to for the foreseeable future,” Tarbox told the paper. “Most specifically, we are not selling it for financial need, but because Scouts can’t use it.”

Most of the listings for property owned by the Boy Scouts and their local councils, including Camp Pico Blanco, don’t mention anything about the land’s Indigenous history. They do, however, tout the organization’s conservation efforts at keeping the land pristine — although others dispute that characterization.

“These lands that national parks and public lands and conservation groups manage, they were not these untouched, pristine lands that need to be conserved,” says Two Bulls. “The reason they look the way that they do is because Native nations had been managing them and stewarding them since time immemorial. They are not untouched lands; they looked the way that they did because of us.”

The loss of Indigenous land led to the separation of families, loss of cultural identity, and genocide.

It’s only been since the end of the 20th century that Americans have started to confront the country’s violent history, says Amy Sodaro, author of the book Exhibiting Atrocity: Memorial Museums and the Politics of Past Violence.

“These sites of atrocity have meaning and need to be dealt with more carefully,” says Sodaro. “I think there is starting to be a shift here, but I think in many ways we’re kind of behind much of the rest of the world, because we’ve been powerful enough to not have to face our past and to be able to kind of ignore these sites.”

The Boy Scouts of America and their local councils can no longer ignore the fact that children were abused on some of their properties. Conservation groups, scouting advocates and victims have mixed feelings about what to do with this land. Whether properties continue to operate as campsites or if they’re sold — which happens on a regular basis around the country — these locations will now remain shrouded in the darkness of historic pain.

Creative Commons

Previously in The Revelator:

30×30: How Important Are Private Lands in Meeting Conservation Goals?

Where the Environment Is on the Ballot — And Where It’s Not

In a stark contrast to recent election years, voters in just two states will decide on environmental issues this November. But there’s still a lot at stake.

Every election year a handful of statewide ballot initiatives carry high stakes for the environment. In 2020 there were four major ones, including Colorado’s Proposition 114 requiring a plan for the reintroduction of gray wolves. There were even more in 2018, including battles in Nevada and Arizona over how much renewable energy to require from utilities, while Florida debated an offshore-drilling ban.

This year the biggest story about environmental ballot initiatives is that there are only two.

Cost could be one reason.

“Typically initiatives are brought to the people because a policy can’t make it through the legislature,” says Nick Abraham, state communications director of the League of Conservation Voters. “But it’s extremely expensive and difficult to run a ballot initiative campaign, to not only get the signatures necessary but also to win at the ballot.”

Recent state wins on environmental issues and more action in Congress may have played a role, too.

“There’s much more work to do, to be sure, but I think often initiatives come out of frustration with the process,” says Abraham. “As more progress is made with lawmakers, people need initiatives less and less.”

This year just New York and California voters will take up environmental issues with ballot initiatives — but both could pack a big punch.

Transformational Funding for the Empire State

In New York, legislators hope their ballot initiative will put a lot of money on the line.

The Clean Water, Clean Air, and Green Jobs Environmental Bond Act of 2022 would allow the state to sell bonds to fund $4.2 billion for environmental improvements that, according to the proposal, would “preserve, enhance, and restore New York’s natural resources and reduce the impact of climate change.”

That includes $1.5 billion for climate change mitigation, $1.1 billion for restoration and flood risk reduction, $650 million for open space conservation and recreation, and $650 million for water quality in resiliency infrastructure. More than one-third would also be earmarked to support disadvantaged communities.

In New York ballot initiatives need to be advanced by the state legislature before they can go to voters. This effort initially began with then-Gov. Andrew Cuomo in 2020 as a $3 billion bond, which was supported by the legislature. But it was withdrawn from the ballot that year because of economic concerns during the pandemic.

In April 2021 the legislature again passed the measure, but incoming Gov. Kathy Hochul asked legislators to add an additional $1 billion. In April 2022 the legislature cleared the way for $4.2 billion in the budget for the bond, which will now go before voters.

electric bus charging
NY Gov. Hochul announces deployment of zero-emission buses. Photo: MTA (CC BY 2.0)

“It’s been a generation since we’ve done an environmental bond act,” says Julie Tighe, president of New York League of Conservation Voters, which has been advocating for the effort. If passed, it would represent “the largest investment the state of New York has ever made in the environment in a single tranche.” It would help fund electric school buses, the removal of lead pipes from communities, and addressing water contaminants, like PFAS and 1,4 dioxane, which can cause cancer risks.

The initiative is estimated to generate 100,000 jobs and an additional $4 billion in economic activity as both federal and local revenue will be leveraged for projects, too, she says.

“We’re really excited about helping to jumpstart this transition to protect our communities and make sure our infrastructure is in good shape,” Tighe adds.

Clean Cars in California

On the other side of the country, California voters will decide the fate of Proposition 30, the Tax on Income Above $2 Million for Zero-Emissions Vehicles and Wildfire Prevention Initiative, on the ballot following a push by a coalition of businesses and environmental groups.

That initiative, which unlike New York’s doesn’t need prior legislative support, would apply increased tax revenues from high-income earners toward funding zero-emissions vehicles, charging stations and related infrastructure, as well as training and hiring wildlife firefighters.

It’s needed to help combat climate change and its direct effects, says Oscar Garcia, the ballot initiative coordinator of California Environmental Voters, one of the groups supporting the proposition. It’s also needed, he says, to equitably meet the state’s new directive to ban the sale of new gas-powered cars and light trucks by 2035. That’s because half of the funds designated for vehicle and infrastructure investments in the ballot initiative will aid disadvantaged communities.

The initiative has been heavily financed by the rideshare company Lyft, which has tossed in $25 million in hopes of its passage.

In a break with his party, Gov. Gavin Newsom has come out against Prop 30, saying that rideshare companies like Lyft are using public tax money to help meet their own state mandate to have 90% of their miles driven in electric cars by 2030. He called it “one company’s cynical scheme to grab a huge taxpayer-funded subsidy.”

Rideshare companies don’t own passenger fleets themselves and won’t directly benefit from the proposition, says Garcia.

“We need a dedicated revenue source like Prop 30 to make headway in an equitable and fair way,” he says. “And this initiative goes toward combating catastrophic wildfires, bringing charging infrastructure into low-income communities, and to people who need vehicle rebates and subsidies to afford the transition to zero-emissions vehicles.”


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Previously in The Revelator:

Time for Solar Energy to Shine

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Reform Our Elections to Secure a Sustainable Future

Both approval and ranked choice voting put fire under the feet of elected officials to do the right thing for the environment — or risk being voted out.

I work on sustainability and political reform in Washington, D.C., but I still call the Pacific Northwest “home.” That’s why I’m heartened by the critical mass of electoral reform initiatives on ballots throughout the region this fall.

In Seattle, Initiative 134 would allow for a form of “approval voting” that empowers voters to choose more than one candidate per race in primary elections, preventing vote-splitting chaos in crowded primaries. Voters in Portland and various counties throughout the Pacific Northwest have opportunities to implement “ranked choice voting,” which asks voters to select their first choice, second choice, and so on down the line and determines the winner(s) through “instant runoffs.” Across the Cascadian hinterlands, Alaska conducted its first ranked choice election this August, and Nevadans will vote for statewide electoral reform in November.

It’s worth understanding how these reforms improve our elections — as well as our environment. They will allow voters to better express their true preferences when choosing elected officials and discourage political hacks from gaming the system. This generally leads to better policy outcomes.

In particular, ranked choice and approval voting help secure the policies necessary to build a sustainable future.

Larger Winning Coalitions

To understand how these reforms create better environmental outcomes, it helps to borrow some ideas from political science.

Selectorate theory” helps explain political leaders’ strategic considerations for maintaining power. According to this theory, political leaders calculate the ratio of the “winning coalition” (the number of voters needed for a candidate to win) relative to the size of the “selectorate” (all eligible voters). When this ratio is small — for example, in autocracies — leaders retain loyalty by bribing members of their small coalition with private goods financed through government coffers. When this ratio is large and democratic, leaders earn voter loyalty through providing public goods that everyone enjoys.

Environmental protestors
Photo: Mark Dixon (CC BY 2.0)

Environmental goods are the classic example of a broadly appreciated public good. In a 2015 paper, political scientists Xun Cao and Hugh Ward measured the relative size of winning coalitions for thousands of elections worldwide against subsequent levels of air pollution. Their analysis showed that as a democracy experienced an increase in the size of the winning coalition, sulfur dioxide and other contributors to air pollution decreased.

By increasing the potential size of winning coalitions within a selectorate, electoral reforms contribute to a more sustainable future.

Now consider approval voting, where voters can choose multiple candidates. In our “choose-one” voting system, a winning coalition can be 50% + 1 of all voters. Every additional voter beyond this minimum threshold is expendable, so politicians are not motivated to earn their superfluous loyalty.

However, when an election uses approval voting, the size of the winning coalition equals the support of the second-place candidate plus one. For example, if 73% of voters are willing to “approve” of a popular challenger, then the incumbent needs 73% + 1 of voters to also “approve” of them to win the election.

In environmental terms, the best way to win the “approval” of a sufficiently large coalition is through protecting the many from pollution instead of allowing a few to enrich themselves through polluting.

By making candidates compete to be voters’ top-two or top-three pick, ranked choice voting similarly requires elected officials to pull together larger winning coalitions that prefer greener policies. When built on a preexisting foundation of voting rights and ballot access, both approval and ranked choice voting put fire under the feet of elected officials to do the right thing for the environment — or else risk being voted out.

Gateway to Proportional Representation

Ranked choice and approval voting make “proportional representation” feasible, such as the modernized system of government being voted on in Portland this fall. Unlike our dominant “winner-take-all” elections, winners from a proportional representation election reflect voter diversity.

Voting
Photo: Phil Roeder (CC BY 2.0)

Consider a hypothetical election to fill three seats, where multiple candidates from both major parties are running, and where 70% of voters prefer Republicans while only 30% prefer Democrats. In a ranked choice election for three-way representation, the threshold for winning is only 25%. Once the first-place winner — assumedly a Republican — is determined, the rankings of any voter required for that Republican to win first place are “locked” and any excess votes (in this case, more than the 25% threshold) are transferred to other candidates. The remaining votes are now 45% Republicans and 30% Democrats, meaning a Republican likely also wins the second seat.

However, the remaining votes for the final seat are 20% Republicans and 30% Democrats, assuring a Democrat will win. This result, where two Republicans and one Democrat represent an electorate that is 70% Republican and 30% Democrat, is a more balanced outcome than what would be expected from a “winner take all” election, where Republicans would win all three seats.

Proportional representation is a step toward environmental justice. Under our current “majoritarian” system of government, political minorities are excluded from representation, and in a racialized society like the United States they are too often synonymous with racial or ethnic minorities.

The only recourse for these groups to be systematically represented are as a byproduct of gerrymandering, where minority residents are “packed” into noncompetitive districts as a supermajority, or as an accident of vote-splitting, which can also backfire against minority candidates.

By contrast, proportional representation intentionally empowers minority voters with leverage to protest negative environmental conditions impacting their communities.

Because environmental concerns tend to be diffuse over widespread geographic areas, proportional representation also better secures general environmental outcomes. The larger multimember districts required for proportional representation are better scaled for evaluating the consequences of an environmental decision than smaller, single-member districts.

Political scientist Stephanie Rickard’s cross-national analysis of fishery subsidies gave this theory credence by showing how governments elected by proportional representation are more likely to pursue broadly appreciated environmental goods rather than serve centralized corporate interests.

(One caveat: Environmental interests do poorly under proportional representation if the voters are geographically concentrated as a strictly “urban elite” or “NIMBYs.”)

Better Stewardship of Resources

Electoral reforms are also good news for the planet for reasons that have nothing to do with politics.

By compressing multiple rounds of voting into one round, or two at most, electoral reforms reduce the environmental impact of an election while still securing the voters’ preferred candidate. This works because electoral reforms mitigate against vote-splitting, eliminating the need for runoffs to narrow the field of candidates or achieve a legally required threshold of votes.

Voter registration
Earth Day voter registration event in Mill Valley, Calif. (Photo by Fabrice Florin, CC BY-SA 2.0)

The environmental benefits are most significant when voting in-person. Every Election Day voters make an additional trip to their polling site, which often requires a fossil-fueled form of transportation, particularly in suburban and rural communities. For elections that yield hundreds of thousands of voters, citizens drive hundreds of thousands of extra miles.

Mail-in ballots leave less of a carbon footprint, but there’s a non-negligible environmental impact of printing paper ballots, envelopes, and other election literature for each voter. By reducing the number of election rounds, the environmental cost of electing government officials is reduced significantly.

The lesson is not that carbon-conscious voters should stay home. In fact, an analysis of the environmental outcomes of the 2019 Canadian federal election estimated that the median benefit of a pro-climate vote was equivalent to a 34.2 ton reduction in carbon dioxide, more than 14 times the reduction of choosing to live car-free for one year, and astronomically more than skipping a single trip to the polling place.

Neither does this imply a need to do away with paper ballots — having a paper trail is a crucial defense against the rising authoritarianism that casts doubt on the legitimacy of our elections. Rather, the lesson is a simple one: Ranked choice and approval voting are environmentally friendly because they eliminate unnecessary rounds of voting, in turn saving resources.

This matters because elections are among our most fundamental civic rituals. When we consciously decide our collective values through ballot measures and who we choose to send to elected office, we are also subconsciously internalizing other values about what we deem acceptable as a society.

From a strict emissions-accounting perspective, the environmental impact of a single election is only a drop in the bucket compared to the thousands of other collective activities that occur daily. But what message does it send if we shun a simple reform that drastically reduces election emissions and waste? Through eliminating unnecessary voting rounds, we uphold sustainability as a civic virtue while fulfilling our democratic duty.

Thinking Ecologically about Elections

None of the reasons above are partisan. I did not suggest that we should game the system to elect more Democrats. That would go against the spirit of electoral reform. My advocacy for electoral reform has roots in my work building bipartisan pro-climate coalitions, where pro-climate candidates were routinely punished at the ballot box for their courage, and others became complacent without any competition on climate.

earth fire
Photo: Pixabay

To stop this vicious cycle, we must reform our elections to reward courage, increase competition both within and between our two major political parties, and give third parties and independent candidates a fair shot in the process.

Rather than thinking in terms of “which party benefits,” it’s better to evaluate electoral reforms in terms of feedback loops and information flows. Feedback loops are the building blocks that create ecological systems — where a change in X leads to a change in Y, which in turn has either a multiplying or moderating effect back on X.

As we humans change our environment, we need a steady flow of information to make sure positive or “multiplying” feedback loops are not spiraling out of control and detect any weakening of negative or “moderating” feedback loops necessary for ecological stability. Because voting is a powerful way for individuals to make known their displeasure with how their local environment is being treated, election results themselves are a form of information flow, and voting bad candidates out of office can be a corrective feedback loop.

The voting methods we use during elections should acknowledge (rather than obfuscate) this ecological imperative.

Of course, electoral reform alone is not enough to save the planet. There’s a lag time, sometimes years or even decades, between when environmental degradation occurs and when humans become conscious of the impact on their lives. This gap is where movements for sustainability generally, and the climate movement specifically, draw attention to the imminent catastrophes awaiting us if we do not change our ways within the next few election cycles. Without these movements, electoral reform would only have a mildly positive effect on average and occasionally even a counterproductive effect.

But without these reforms, advocates within these crucial movements will grow frustrated and disenchanted with a political process that continues to fall short when addressing our ecological crisis.

For the sake of these movements, our planet, and democracy, I hope voters across the Pacific Northwest and beyond will choose to embrace a politics that has been reimagined for a more sustainable and just future.

The opinions expressed above are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect those of The Revelator, the Center for Biological Diversity or their employees.

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Previously in The Revelator:

Voter Suppression Is the New Climate Denial