The Challenge of the New Frontier

Sigurd Olson attended Northland College in Ashland, Wis., from 1916-1918, and always had warm feelings toward the college. When Northland created an environmental institute in the early 1970s and sought to name it after Sigurd, he tried to say no, but eventually he relented. In the remaining years of his life, Sigurd grew proud of the institute and its efforts to promote environmental stewardship in the Lake Superior region. In the years after his death the Sigurd Olson Environmental Institute's work became widely recognized, and in 1994 it received the nation's highest award in environmental education.

The institute was formally dedicated in the fall of 1972, and Sigurd (shown at left at a 1973 book signing event) was asked to give the keynote talk. On October 20, as Sigurd stepped to the stage of the Alvord Theater on the Northland College campus, he received a standing ovation. He received another one after he finished speaking. What follows below is a transcript of his talk, parts of which he later incorporated into his book Reflections From the North Country.

It is always exciting to think about frontiers and the challenges they evoke. A nation without a frontier is stagnant, without life or spirit. Now that our old frontier is gone, we treasure memories of the days when we surged away from our beach-head on the Atlantic Coast heading for El Dorado and the unknown. So close are we to that old frontier, we can almost hear the rumble and screech of wagon trains and the cries of "Westward Ho!" The ruts of the trails are still plain, the Oregon and the Santa Fe, plus many more, and we follow them thinking of a past when there was unlimited space and opportunity and the land new and unexplored. We sing the songs of those days, recreate in movies and television what seems now as a Golden Age, dream of times when we were closer to mountains, plains and waterways than today, when there was room to breathe and a chance for a man to carve out his destiny, and work to challenge his strength and courage.

Now with that in the past, something seems lost, and we are like a people who have no sense of direction or purpose. We flounder and wonder where to turn. Our population has multiplied, enormous cities have grown and we are plagued with great problems of social and environmental significance. Instead of the new and verdant land, in our headlong rush to conquer it and use its resources, we find we have polluted air, soil, and water to the point where scientists warn there can be no return if we continue, with the land of our beloved America becoming unfit for all life, including that of mankind.

For a generation we have pondered the growing crisis, sought answers to the enormous problems confronting us. Countless panaceas have been proposed, endless philosophies expounded, billions spent on possible solutions, most without avail and none being the real answers to our dilemma. Degradation of the environment continued apace, cities spawned crime and violence and we lived as we always had.

During the past decade, however, a pattern of action has emerged which might hold within itself the key to our predicament. No longer a pattern for a physical frontier, this is one of thought and basic philosophy, a complete reversal of old attitudes toward the earth and its resources that might, if we have wisdom and conviction, open the door to a truly golden era, not only for the people of this continent, but for the entire world. Never before has such a revolution in ideas confronted us in our relationship to the environment.

Man, during his long history, has made a number of great decisions, each one of which has changed his life and the lives of all creatures as well. During the past 50,000 years he has made three dramatic choices, but none as vitally important as the one which is shaping now. The first was when he abandoned his nomadic hunting and gathering existence and began to plant seeds and domesticate animals. When he discovered the security of growing his own food and taming creatures he used to hunt, life changed drastically. For thousands of years after that he continued his hunting and gathering to supplement his new activities, but eventually he came to depend almost entirely on his herds and growing food.

The second great decision was inevitably an outgrowth of the first, a gathering together in family groups, hamlets, villages, and finally cities with the actual abandonment of the land by countless millions. The resultant impact on human culture, development and outlook that came with divorcement from close involvement with the earth, the new security and leisure, the beginnings of education and class consciousness were a far cry from anything man had ever known. In such forgotten cities flourishing from six to seven thousand years ago, as Ur and Babylon in the valleys of the Tigris and Euphrates of Mesopotamia, as Thebes and Memphis in the valley of the Nile, men forgot their old ways behind the protection of city walls and armies to build a society of specialization and surplus, a society which produced mathematics, sculpture, art and writing with the luxury of time to plan and philosophize.

Most of man's known history is involved with this era, but not until two hundred years ago did he embark on a third major decision after the discovery of the steam engine by James Watt. This relatively simple event fired the Industrial Revolution, bringing in its train all the developments our inventive genius could contrive. Having once chosen such a course, the entire civilized world was changed along with man's old way of life in a relatively stable environment. In the short space of two centuries to feed the insatiable maw of industry, the earth was raped of its resources and ancient ecological balances upset. In the process, man cut his spiritual roots and the interdependencies which over the centuries had preserved the ecosystem of which he once was an integral part.

Now we are on the verge of making the greatest decision of all, a change in the goals and philosophies that brought about the present ecological crisis, a complete realignment of our relationship to the earth, a man-land ethic that hopefully will recognize our responsibilities and stewardship. Until now progress has been measured by things, by better organization, by new inventions and gadgets which increased our affluence, but now we are beginning to think of quality and richness of life rather than quantity. We are asking great questions about our system of values, wondering if greater affluence is the end of all striving, if the good life can be measured by our Gross National Product, if there might be a limit to growth, if more and more is always better, if there can be contentment and fullness with what we have.

Such searching questions have no easy answers, for the old ideals and objectives have dominated us for many centuries. Radical changes never take place swiftly; they go through endless years of trial and error, slow abandonment of once cherished ideas. While it is far too early to tell, there are signs which indicate what is in the public's mind. A survey of literature of recent years is indicative, especially that embraced by youth: "The Greening of America," "Future Shock," "The Population Bomb," "The Closing Circle," to mention but a few. Magazines for the first time have environmental sections and newspapers constantly run articles on pollution and other environmental problems. International conferences such as the recent one in Stockholm, the findings of the group of scientists known as the "Club of Rome;" the development of U.S.-Russian cooperation on pollution problems; the creation of such governmental organizations as the Environmental Protection Agency; the Water Pollution Control Act with a recent federal commitment of 24.6 billion dollars over a four-year period; federal, state, and municipal air pollution actions are typical of what is being done and indicative of changing attitudes.

Things have been happening in other spheres as well which indicate how people are beginning to feel, with actions and ideas unheard of a few years ago: South Carolina refusing to allow the construction of a German Petrochemical plant at Hilton Head on its coast; the setting aside by the State of Delaware of 100 miles of its coastline against developments that might destroy its beauty; the abandonment of the Trans-Florida Barge Canal; stopping construction of the Everglades Jet Airport and the Super Sonic Transport; the furor over the Alaskan Pipeline with the ultimate destruction of the Alaskan wilderness; the apprehension of British Columbia over future oil spills along its coast should the pipeline be built; the pronouncements by the Governor of Oregon that his state would not welcome more people; the spanning of countless environmental groups across the nation; the discovery by citizens that they can seek protection and redress from environmental threats through legal action.

Affluence and industrial expansion are being weighed against further degradation of living conditions, beauty against ugliness, silence against noise and clamor, open space against crowding, natural rhythms against speed and tension, boosterism against the status quo, fullness and richness of living against boredom and synthetic enjoyments. Remembering the old frontiers and its freedoms, challenges, and rewards, we are starting to hope we might recapture some part of the old American dream.

I have just returned from a wilderness conference in the Adirondacks and can still see those beautiful mountains in full color, the distance and the sweep of them. The last day there I climbed one of the highest peaks. "Thunder's Nest" the Indians called it, for above its high granite ridges lightning flared and thunder crashed whenever storms moved in. I came out on an open slope in the full blaze of sunset and watched the last magic rays of light touch ranges thirty miles away, listened to my companion tell the story of the decision made almost a century ago to keep those hills "Forever Wild" and what they mean today to the people of the northeast.

He spoke, too, of the poet of the Adirondacks, Jeanne Foster, who spent her girlhood on Thunder's Nest and how she would return once a year to lay her hands on the living granite on which we stood. "After feeling the mountain once more," she told him, "its strength and calm, I can go back to the city for another year." And with those simple words she spoke for millions.

We are at last beginning to understand what is at stake. It is more than wilderness, more than beauty or peace of mind, it is the survival of the civilization we have built and perhaps the survival of man. Other civilizations have died and passed into oblivion. One has only to look at what happened to the fertile lands of Mesopotamia and think of the hundred dead cities built one on top of the other, of the eleven civilizations that have died leaving only rubble heaps for the archeologists to search in barren lands which once were verdant and green.

We read the warnings of the Prophets of Doom in our Scriptures and know what they were trying to say:

"I brought you into a plentiful country to eat the fruit thereof and the goodness thereof, but when ye entered, ye defiled my land and made mine heritage an abomination, a desolation,, a dry land and a wilderness where no man dwelleth. Wolves shall cry in your castles and jackals in your pleasant palaces."

The present prophets of doom speak in scientific language, but their meaning is the same. Barry Commoner says, "The new technological man carries strontium 90 in his bones, iodide 131 in his thyroid, DDT in his fat, and asbestos in his lungs. There is simply not enough air, water and soil on earth to absorb man-made poisons without effect. If we continue our reckless way, this planet before long will become an unsuitable place for human habitation."

Such statements are being repeated again and again by great scientists the world over. They know if the level of carbon dioxide in our atmosphere gets higher we may have a situation where the sun's rays will be trapped, raising temperatures high enough to melt Arctic ice caps, bringing the height of oceans to the point where shorelines may be inundated all over the world. Many fear the steady accumulation of dust could have the reverse effect of lowering temperatures and speeding the return of a new ice age.

People laugh at our prophets of doom as they laughed at those of old, but we have only to study the land where past civilizations have died to realize it was not war or pestilence that brought about their end, but the unwise use of the land, the destruction of forests, the grazing of sheep and goats with the resulting erosion, silting in of elaborate irrigation systems, the salinization of water and soil. It was then the barbarians moved down from the Zagros Mountains to lay cities waste, for the people were weakened and had no strength or will to repel them. It was then those civilizations died.

The story is the same not only in the near east, but over northern Africa and much of the Mediterranean, in China with its enormous erosion and floods, and in the valleys of the Indus. We gaze in wonder at the opulence of those dead cities, marble pillars standing in desert sands, great temples, coliseums, evidence of a fertile land and millions of people. We know the foundations of our own civilization were built on what they did, but just as important is the knowledge of what happened to them and why, with the growing realization it could happen again. We see the same pattern emerging, compounded because of our burgeoning technology and the fact that man has become a geological force in his impact on the land, in the belief that resources are inexhaustible with no end to the possibilities of our genius.

Dr. W. C. Loudermilk, former Assistant Chief of the Soil Conservation Service, after an exhaustive study of the world's early rape of the land, proposed an Eleventh Commandment:

"Thou shalt inherit the holy earth as a faithful steward, conserving its resources from generation to generation. Thou shalt safeguard thy fields from erosion, thy living waters, thy hills from overgrazing by thy herds, that thy descendants may have abundance forever. If any shall fail, thy fields shall become sterile stony ground and thy descendants shall decrease and live in poverty or perish from the face of the earth."

We look about us and see what is happening to America, eroded fields and deserts on the march, poisoned soil, water and air. We watch the Amazon, Europe and Russia and Africa, the mad rush toward industrialization of undeveloped countries who envy our progress and affluence, and who are determined to follow the path we have blazed so well in the misuse and subjugation of our land.

Where does this leave us, this knowledge of the past and the present? We know our basic human needs, that man is part of nature and cannot survive unless he becomes once more an integral part of it, that his hunger and discontent is a longing for the old simplicities and satisfactions, that we are in truth children of the earth. We understand what Henry Beston means when he says that man is whole when in tune with wind, stars, hills, and the universe itself, and that wholeness is being one with the rhythms of the earth. It is wholeness we are seeking, the feel of the earth and natural rhythms forgotten in our busy lives. Are not the intangible values of a life closer to nature and its rewards what we are actually searching for and missing? Are they not in the last analysis the substance of that lost American Dream?

With these thoughts in mind, it is fitting and timely that this Institute of Environmental Studies has come into being at Northland College and now in addition to the school's cultural and social programs, it is dedicated toward training students for ecological work, not only through courses and field trips, but through involvement with the communities in this beautiful northern section of Minnesota, Wisconsin, Michigan and southern Ontario to which we are so devoted.

Is not its premise true: "That the interdependence and interaction of all living forms including man is the guiding principle underlying human destiny and the Institute designed toward a goal in which man and nature are in harmony rather than constantly at war, a land ethic in which we are members of a total and balanced community of life, not as conquerors of nature, but as vital and valued participants."

With the growing need of ecologists and field workers during the next decade, this is a step in the right direction. The Ecological Society of America three years ago had 3,200 members. Today it has 4,800, and it is estimated by 1980 the number will triple to 14,400 with a demand for many field workers as state and national programs get fully under way with adequate financing by state and federal governments. A recent survey by Odum Fanning estimates that by 1980 environmental jobs may well total close to 150,000 in all fields of endeavor—government, industry and municipalities. He admits there are few opportunities now, but urges using the coming years for preparation and training to be ready for the time when environmental work will come into its own. Here is the greatest challenge of the future for the youth of America, an open door to careers that will mean fulfillment.

A student manifesto says it well: "We don't want merely to survive, we want to live, therefore we dedicate ourselves to the goal of a quality environment and a stable ecology for this planet."

This answers the question of many young people today as to opportunity. It also means their study and evaluation of our society and its impact on the earth is necessary and sound, being based on our deepest spiritual needs and at one with the change taking place in the minds of our people.

We know we cannot abandon our technology, but we can and must seek a balance between it and ecology.

If we can accept the premise that there is a limit to growth, that population must be controlled, that our global ecology can be one of harmony, then we can look with confidence to our future. Never before have we been faced with such a challenge to our culture and our way of life.

If we can use our enormous knowledge with the technology it has produced to work toward the preservation of the earth instead of its destruction, if we can change our priorities, achieve balance and understanding in our roles as human beings in a complex world, the coming era can well be that of a richer civilization, not its end. This is the challenge of our new frontier, a challenge in which the Institute of Environmental Studies will play its part in the years to come.