Article

Love in the Time of Crocuses

Stepping back and taking an historical view, one can distinguish three different but overlapping periods of human impact on ecosystems: aboriginal, colonial, and global.

1. Aboriginal – subsistence use; relatively simple though often sophisticated technologies that tended to be localised.
2. Colonial – systematic exploitation and depletion of natural capital by foreign mercantile powers incorporating distant resources into a developing market economy. Yukon examples: Alcan Highway, the building of which was as much colonial usurpation as U.S military defense; exploitation of mineral and fossil fuel resources – wherein the “foreign” power is the government in Ottawa, or Vancouver-based mining companies, or the petr-oligarchy in Calgary and Houston.
3. Global – heavy widespread exploitation, integrated into global patterns of resource consumption, with frequent exhaustion and substitution of resources.

Most of North America is now in the period of global use, with intense pervasive exploitation of marine, estuarine, freshwater aquatic and terrestrial ecosystems and their fish, forest, wildlife, mineral, energy, soil, water and even recreation resources. Such regional exploitation is driven by global resource consumption, and is characterised by more frequent exhaustion and substitution of resources. For example: fishing down the food chain; wild salmon fisheries being replaced by farmed salmon; liquidating beetle-killed forests, with insufficient regard for subsequent forest (much less non-timber values and resources), and flooding of international lumber markets; logging of “decadent” old growth forest and replacement with “thrifty” young plantations, in many cases replacing quality with quantity or volume; raw-log exports; timber and mineral commodities chasing the China market; oil and gas (and the transition from conventional to non-conventional sources like tar sands and coalbed methane) and energy in general (hydroelectric, wind, nuclear, fossil fuel); Canadian water will soon be – or already is as a source of energy – subject to international exploitation, water wars are on the global horizon.

The Yukon is unusual in North America in that the majority of the territory (ca 70%) is still wilderness and has not yet been industrialised. Although the context for most sectors and market forces is now global, forms of subsistence use still persist in many communities and the territory’s resource economy is still largely colonial in nature and behaviour. With cyclical markets and commodity prices now favourable, the energy and mining sectors are rapidly consolidating their hegemony in the Yukon and northwestern North America in general, aided and abetted (including with perverse subsidies) by governments who seem to be guided more by regional myths than global realities. The Yukon is one of many pawns in a continental and global chess game. And this is the end game; the consequences are for keeps.

This is the era of imperial oil – or rather, imperial energy – oil and gas, coal, hydro, uranium, and the minerals that support our energy-hungry, urban-based, automobile-centric modern society. The power-brokers still invoke the doctrine of manifest destiny: industry and governments believe they have a God-given right to exploit these resources, wherever they occur and whatever the environmental consequences – including increased greenhouse gas emissions.

The territorial government continues to proclaim that “the Yukon is open for business”, by which they mean open for resource-extraction industries more than for tourism and conservation-based businesses. And this is why the Yukon government remains loathe to establish more protected areas; our politicians are still in thrall to a libertarian, resource-extraction constituency and fear the consequences of declaring any part of the territory off-limits to exploration and development. The “lords of yesterday” – mining laws, resource (timber, oil and gas, water) allocation, licensing and development policies – many framed decades or even a century ago, still prevail, despite widespread recognition of the need for change.¹

The Yukon presents one of the last best chances for continental-scale conservation in North America. But it is also a land under siege. Industrial exploitation-mining, logging, and energy-related developments such as oil and gas drilling and coalbed methane exploration – is either on the rise or getting under way. Proposed new roads, pipelines, and a railroad could all expand access to the territory’s wild lands and impose the template for industrialisation, which remains the fervent desire of the current, pro-development territorial government.

CPAWS’ conservation goal for the Yukon is to ensure that the vast yet intricate web of life (which includes human beings) in the Territory is identified, protected, and sustained. The most effective way to accomplish this goal is to establish a network of protected areas and conservation lands (or special management zones) where natural systems can remain intact. Moreover, ecological integrity on lands and waters outside of protected areas must also be maintained in order to nurture these same protected areas and to enable sustainable resource use. Achieving this won’t be easy nor will it happen overnight, and not without some cultural shifts.

Prairie crocus Photo by Bruce Bennett

Love in the Time of Cholera by Gabriel Garcia Marquez was published nearly 20 years ago, a terrific novel that impressed me greatly back then and now comes to mind as I embark on the river of retirement this May, the time of crocuses in the Yukon. The novel deals with aging, love, obsession, epidemics, medical ethics, and time, among other things. Eventually the two protagonists become lovers, in their 70s, and take a boat ride together down deforested Caribbean rivers being drained and poisoned, listening for the cries of manatees. One of this epic’s chief messages is that it is possible not only to swear undying love but to actually follow through on it, to live a long full life premised on such a pledge. This is the sort of commitment that the conservation cause involves, that the work of CPAWS in the Yukon requires and deserves. In the end it will be our enduring love of Nature (E.O. Wilson’s biophilia) and emotional attachment to wild places – more than scientific or economic arguments – that will overcome buccaneering, ruinous “development” and short-sighted, unsustainable economic policies. Or so we hope, and that it won’t be too late.

So now I am heading for the hills, to explore more of this splendid territory. I will remain close to CPAWS-Yukon, but in a more focused capacity, will continue to work for more and better protected areas wherever and whenever I can. It has been an honour to work for CPAWS-Yukon for the past 3 1/2 years, and a pleasure to work with our members and supporters – like-minded, principled people with a passion for parks and wilderness. Thanks very much to you all!

Jim Pojar
May, 2007