Carolyn Raffensperger is executive director of the Science and Environmental Health Network, based in Ames, Iowa, which advocates the wise application of science to efforts to protect the environment and public health.

Monday, 3 Feb 2003

AMES, Iowa

Like most of you, my weekend was full of the Columbia shuttle disaster. It raised questions central to my work on public health and the environment. Our specialty at the Science and Environmental Health Network is science: How do we create a public interest research agenda? What do we do when the science is uncertain? Can ethics and values be fully integrated into science and environmental policy?

One of the Internet news stories about the Columbia disaster had this sentence: “In a flying machine with more than 2.5 million parts, even a 99.9 percent reliability level would still leave 2,500 things to go wrong.” This remarkable statement could be the slogan of the precautionary principle, which stands for the proposition that we should take action to prevent harm even when we are uncertain.

I am playing catch-up today because last week I went to Denver to speak to the U.S. EPA about children’s environmental health and the precautionary principle. My colleague Dr. Ted Schettler spoke about the complex things that are happening in a baby’s brain in the nine months before she is born. The complexity is staggering. It makes the Columbia shuttle look as simple as a mousetrap. Ted pointed out that we know a lot about the damage done to a baby rat’s brain by chemicals like organophosphate pesticides, mercury, and lead. We know that human babies are being born with organophosphates — and many other chemicals — in their bodies. This is the functional equivalent of asking these babies to land on earth without the basic gear in place.

While I spent the weekend in Ames, Iowa, my husband Fred Kirschenmann, was in Aberdeen, S.D., attending the Northern Plains Sustainable Agriculture Society’s annual conference. The day before the meeting, a group of scientists and farmers gathered to discuss the seed breeding they are doing for organic systems in the Great Plains. In this project farmers and scientists work together to develop oat, wheat, and other seeds that fit the ecological niche of the north country and that function well on farms where there is a good crop rotation and no pesticides or synthetic fertilizers. The outcomes of this breeding program stand in stark contrast to the uniform transgenic crops developed for mono-cropped, industrialized farms worldwide in scientists’ labs without much, if any, input from farmers.

After the shuttle disaster I kept wondering if it didn’t make sense to have lots of small-scale, farmer-driven experiments going on. Could we try these farmer-scientist breeding programs for some crops, like wheat, and not use transgene technologies at all? At present wheat is about the only major commodity crop that is not genetically engineered. The more engineered, the larger the scale, the more complex, the more likely it is that something will go wrong. It makes sense for publicly funded research to support low-tech, non-patented science in lots of areas, particularly medicine and agriculture. The precautionary principle not only stands for the timeworn ideas like “look before you leap,” “better safe than sorry,” “measure twice, cut once” — it also stands for “don’t put all your eggs in one basket.” Have we put too many eggs in the high-tech basket?

Later this week, the entire staff of SEHN and board president Peter Montague will convene at my house in Ames to discuss the future of our work. We will be exploring ways to advance ecological medicine, a new vision for the courts, the precautionary principle, and much more. I love these staff meetings because I get to spend time hashing out ideas with these marvelous people. It is an occasion to ask, “What if?” So much of our time is spent cranking out research, speeches, and newsletters. But during these meetings we are able to brainstorm, scan the horizon for the needs of the environmental movement, and think about the big picture.

I suspect that one question we will ask is, “Are there any systems where we cannot tolerate a 0.1 percent failure?” Our babies? Our oceans? Our food? This beautiful planet? I wonder.

Tuesday, 4 Feb 2003

AMES, Iowa

Monday was, well, Monday. Hectic, exciting, and busy, with lots of messages and phone calls to return. I always ask myself, “Is the Earth better off because of my work today? Is the Science and Environmental Health Network better off because of my work? Am I better off?” If I can answer “yes” to two out of three of those questions, it’s been a good day.

Yesterday’s Monday-ness was redeemed by the fact that it was a wonderful day to be inside. We had blizzard-like conditions outside, so I was happy to be indoors at my desk all day. We heat our house with wood, and taking breaks in the middle of talking on the phone, writing, and reading in order to haul wood and stoke the fire is one of the joys of working from home.

Science in the courts and nanotechnology top the day’s agenda. These are related themes. How can we help make sure the courts are prepared to address the emerging issues of our day — for example, nanotechnology? How can the courts be part of the infrastructure for protecting public health and the environment?

Sadly, right now we are heading down the wrong road with this third branch of government. The courts are increasingly short-sighted, protecting only the moneyed interests and disregarding any science that isn’t proven beyond a shadow of a doubt; they are taking decision-making power away from the jury; and judges are being elected on the strength of conservative endorsements and financing. It’s time to rethink the justice system.

Nanotechnology is what Bill McKibben calls “the next step in miniaturization, the next step down the scale from microtechnology.” McKibben sent me an advance copy of his new book, Enough: Staying Human in an Engineered World, which Henry Holt will release in April. There are a couple of points that McKibben raises about nanotechnology. The first is that many brand-new technologies are converging. Biotechnology, nanotechnology, informatics, and robotics are all merging into applications that are beyond anything most of us can imagine — for example, little computerized robots that will be sent into the human body to manufacture and deliver medicines right at the site of disease. What is more menacing, nanotechnology will also be used to develop new and more dangerous weapons.

In addition to this convergence with other technologies, nanotechnology’s real promise — and threat — lies in creating miniaturized, programmed, self-replicating assemblers that can move atoms around, enabling humans to build just about anything. This application has alarmed even some of the high priests of technology, such as Bill Joy, who worries about these self-replicating robots destroying the Earth. On the other hand, these far-fetched scenarios may not be the biggest threat. As McKibben points out, the biggest danger may be to human culture. What we do know is that we are in for a bumpy ride and lots of surprises.

The courts have always been the protectors of those injured by over-eager, short-sighted entrepreneurs. Are the courts up to the task of addressing the damages that could stem from these new technologies? I would submit that they are not. This means that we have exciting and interesting work ahead.

Wednesday, 5 Feb 2003

AMES, Iowa

Being an environmentalist these days means that you rarely get good news. And in my own life, it seems that everywhere I turn I hear yet more sorrow. In the last couple of days, I’ve spoken to several colleagues who were in the middle of tests for cancer or whose spouses have had cancer. Maybe it’s my peer group reaching middle age. Maybe it’s the knowledge that the planet is showing signs of irreparable wear and tear — and the understanding that our health is intimately tied to the Earth’s health. My own beloved husband goes in tomorrow for a full staging of his metastatic cancer. Has it progressed? Is it laying low?

Today I asked a friend if he felt that his suffering was so overwhelming that it interfered with his ability to see the pain and problems around him — or if he felt that his suffering was also a reflection of the troubles of the world. There is a beautiful Jewish legend about the Lamed-vavniks. According to the legend, at any moment in time, there are 12 just and holy people who take on the suffering of the whole world. Through their prayers and righteousness they hold off the just wrath of God.

I think of my many environmental colleagues. These are grim times to be working for a whole and beautiful Earth. We may be heading for war (the ultimate in environmental catastrophes), the world is heating up through global climate change, the Earth’s children are suffering increasing learning disabilities and other health problems that may have environmental origins. And then, on top of it all, many of us in the environmental movement have our own health problems. Could it be that environmentalists like author Sandra Steingraber, scientist Theo Colborn, and biologist Mary O’Brien are actually our present-day Lamed-vavniks? I grew up with Andy Warhol’s promise of 15 minutes of fame. What if, instead, we were each given 15 minutes of being just and holy men and women?

Actually, the fame idea isn’t too farfetched. When my niece, Caitlin, saw a video of me giving a speech at Bioneers, she asked if I was famous. Then we read a beautiful children’s book entitled Nobody Particular about Diane Wilson, the magnificent shrimper who tried to sink her fishing boat to protest pollution in the Gulf of Mexico. Caitlin asked if Diane had done more for the Earth than I had. Was Diane more famous then I was?

My sister later translated that question for me. At Caitlin’s age, kids are trying to understand fame. We give children a big dose of Britney Spears, but they rarely get role models of creative, dedicated, even eccentric people committed to the common good. Caitlin was amazed that you could be working for the Earth and be famous. Gosh! I suspect she is on the rocky road of finding her 15 minutes of being a Lamed-vavnik. I don’t know if I would really wish that on her. But I do know that the companions on that road are wise and good — the best companions for the journeywork of this lovely planet.

Thursday, 6 Feb 2003

AMES, Iowa

A correction: Late last night, I received a delightful response from Rabbi Gill Brociner who pointed out that my statistics on Lamed-vavniks were wrong. At any given time, there are 36 righteous people in the world, not 12. I was pleased to read that we have far more than I thought — we need all the help we can get …

Environmentalists should be credited with bringing serious benefits to the economy — at least to the teleconferencing industry. My most important call today was about the grizzly bears near Yellowstone. The grizzly, the great symbol of wilderness, the great symbol of the More than Human world, is in jeopardy because of the ways we recreate, our sprawling housing developments, invasive species, global warming. You name it — humans’ bad habits are killing the griz. The Bush administration wants to take the bears off the threatened species list. According to the independent scientists who study bears, that would be a bad move. The bears are still threatened over the long haul. The real question is whether we will share this world with others. I don’t know about you, but that question for me is about loneliness. Humans, while a truly beautiful species, are simply not enough.

Several scientists have devoted their lives to the survival of the bears: Lee Metzgar, Dave Mattson, and many others. These scientists are telling a story of impoverishment, a world without bears unless we mend our ways. My first encounter with the problems faced by the scientists who defend grizzly bears was through Todd Wilkinson’s insightful book Science Under Siege: The Politicians’ War on Nature and Truth. Todd described scientists whose careers were destroyed by agencies trying to protect the timber industry, the snowmobile industry, developers — anybody but the bears. In Todd’s telling, scientists are the true heroes of our day.

Unfortunately, the story about bears parallels that of children and lead poisoning, pesticides, and environmental health, or just about any other issue that has science at its core. The administration is systematically undermining environmental protection by disregarding scientists — and science that would demonstrate a need for conservation and care.

For example, take asbestos. In late December, Andrew Schneider of the St. Louis Post-Dispatch reported that the White House had prevented the U.S. EPA from releasing a warning to the public about the dangers of asbestos insulation. According to the reporter, the warning was to accompany a declaration by the EPA of a public-health emergency in Libby, Mont., where ore from a vermiculite mine was contaminated with an asbestos fiber tied to the deaths or illnesses of thousands of miners and their families. A public-health emergency declaration “would have authorized the removal of the disease-causing insulation from homes in Libby and also provided long-term medical care for those made sick. Additionally, it would have triggered notification of property owners elsewhere who might be exposed to the contaminated insulation.” Enough research existed to justify a warning. But the administration didn’t want the people to know.

Schneider reported that the EPA knew the administration was “angered that a flood of lawsuits had caused more than a dozen major corporations — including W.R. Grace — to file for bankruptcy protection. The suits sought billions of dollars on behalf of people injured or killed from exposure to asbestos in their products or workplaces.” In the near future, the Republican backlash to such asbestos lawsuits may likely result in tort reform legislation preventing injured people from seeking redress in the courts.

I don’t know about you, but I want to choose a different path from lonely and poisoned. We still have a little time and these scientists point the way to that other path. At a meeting SEHN convened on mesocarnivores, bears, and salmon in the late fall of 2000, I asked Dave Mattson, one of the scientists described in Science Under Siege, how he was different now because of his close study of grizzly bears. I asked because I’ve always been fascinated by how scientists are changed by their subject matter. He said (and I paraphrase) that studying grizzly bears close-up was an extraordinary opportunity to encounter his own fear and come to peace.

Perhaps it’s not just the companionship of these great creatures that we could lose, but these lessons of the spirit. Who will teach us when the bears are gone?

Friday, 7 Feb 2003

AMES, Iowa

When I worked for the Sierra Club in Chicago I often had interns who were getting their environmental feet wet. For the first month of their internships they did everything I did. Some days that meant meeting with the governor and some days that meant stuffing envelopes. On that continuum, Thursday was a stuff-envelope day for me. I love having that kind of rhythm. There are many weeks when I am on the road giving speeches. Alternately, there are some days when I need to sign payroll checks (one of my tasks today), prepare for staff meetings, and file legal documents. I had a lot to do today to prepare for our staff retreat — make beds, cook, sort materials I’d been saving for each person.

SEHN’s first office, set up in 1994, was in Washington, D.C. Two years later, I moved back to our farm in North Dakota, where I continued to work for SEHN. Email, faxes, and an airport two hours away allowed me to be back on the farm with my husband. As you can imagine, the rhythm of my work in D.C. was quite different from the rhythm in North Dakota. Power lunches in North Dakota meant taking food out to the men on tractors rather than drinking three martinis with Very Important People. In North Dakota, it’s almost impossible to maintain a sense of self-importance or any delusions about who or what is powerful. We all know that the weather and the landscape are more powerful than we are. I sometimes wonder if those in D.C. think they control the weather.

We used to have SEHN staff meetings in North Dakota. Fortunately, everyone on the staff was willing to fly to Fargo and drive out to the farm. North Dakota was a little exotic. Now the staff and the board president are coming to Iowa. Over the weekend we will tell stories, philosophize, and strategize. Too often I feel out of rhythm, out of harmony when all I am doing is public speaking. Being on a stage speaking about the environment to a big audience is one of the great pleasures of my work, but I am always mindful that the Hutterite pastors are required to spend as much time cleaning barns as they do speaking in public. There is a good and holy balance to changing diapers, scrubbing toilets, working in a soup kitchen, and public speaking.

The pleasure in the rhythm of this coming weekend is the time out with dearly beloved colleagues. It’s a time for the community of SEHN to reflect, in the middle of winter, in the middle of the heartland, in the middle of our hectic schedules. Oh, joy.