An especially muddying factor in unraveling ecological policy disputes is identifying the role of religious views in shaping scientific information. These days, religious, ethical, or moral values are often embedded in “science” to form a type of information that is no longer entirely scientific. I call this type of information Religious Ecology, which is now prevalent even in the peer reviewed scientific literature. Such information superficially resembles Scientific Ecology, but rather than being policy neutral, it incorporates particular religious or ethical assumptions, often in ways that are opaque to the average reader or listener (see figure below for how this happens). Thus, Religious Ecology is normative science, a form of policy advocacy often unrecognized because the embedded and assumed policy preferences are difficult to detect.
Religious Ecology assumes a set of norms about how humans should live and make decisions about ecological policy issues. After reviewing many peer reviewed scientific articles that exhibit embedded values and policy preferences, I have modeled an analog to the well-known Judeo-Christian Ten Commandments. In practice, the Ten Commandments of Religious Ecology (see list below) are not rigid, but provide insight into how the policy advocate (i.e., the “believer”) perceives policy choices and thus why those values and policy preferences are embedded in the resulting scientific reports.
Of course, many religious and ethical-based philosophies offer their preferred “rules” or “guidelines” for ecological policy issues, but within Religious Ecology, the values-based and science-based ideas are intertwined and difficult to separate. Specifically, in ecologically oriented science, at their core, they share some version of the well-known Judeo-Christian Garden of Eden’s Romantic View of Nature, wishing humans to live harmoniously with the natural, non-human world. The Garden of Eden was a paradise on Earth, but the fall from Grace began with humans succumbing to temptation and greed — and enduring the resulting pollution. The Ten Commandments of Religious Ecology similarly delineate a path back to the Garden of Eden, the natural and optimal state of ecosystems. Thus, Religious Ecology is either a form of science infused with ethical values or, perhaps more accurately, a religion imbued with science.
Let me illustrate with an example. Consider Commandment #1 and how it is sometimes stealthily embedded in Scientific Ecology. Referring to a piece of land as a “wheat field” is a policy neutral statement of information (i.e., science or a scientific fact). It is the essence of classic Baconian science. In contrast, referring to the same field as a “degraded or disturbed ecosystem” or a “healthy and thriving ecosystem” is not policy neutral because it has an embedded, assumed policy preference (i.e., Commandment #1 is accepted as the preferred policy). Nothing has changed scientifically; only the labeling differs. Thus, it is normative science.
Frequently, incoming students in my graduate-level ecological policy class are initially unaware of the impact of word choice and subtler forms of normative science. Realistically, should professors expect graduate students (much less undergraduates) in ecology, environmental science, natural resources, fisheries and wildlife, and conservation science to understand issues such as normative science and stealth policy advocacy? Or do they understand the arguments, but choose to advocate their preferred policy preferences, nonetheless? Perhaps a more accurate answer is the observation (paraphrased) from one student,
“Many scientists across divergent scientific disciplines use their positions to pitch their or their employer’s policy preference, so why should ecologists and other scientists be held to a higher standard?”
Students in this class often accept that this assertion reflects contemporary reality and is, therefore, professionally acceptable. Further, many students also accept the Ten Commandments of Religious Ecology as self-evidently true and appropriate for scientific communication.
Like other simplified summaries of religious doctrine, nothing in their application is unequivocally absolute or consistent. However, the Ten Commandments of Religious Ecology afford insight into how many ecological policy advocates (including professional scientists) tend to embed their values in the scientific information they develop and provide. Rarely will such advocates explicitly categorize their scientific information as influenced by religious or faith-based values, so “users” of scientific information must be alert and not assume that all scientists are playing it straight. Perhaps most stick to science, but others intentionally do not. Hence, it is not surprising that public trust in the impartiality of scientists has declined.
I encourage caution when assessing the scientific impartiality of professional ecologists who use their scientific credentials to promote their personal (or their employer’s) policy preferences. For example, without resorting to the Ten Commandments of Religious Ecology, nothing in science says that a dam should be removed or maintained. A free-flowing river is different ecologically than that same river dammed, but it is not “better or worse” without applying a value-based benchmark or baseline (i.e., often one or more of the Ten Commandments of Religious Ecology). Consequently, there is no exclusively scientific basis for labeling an ecosystem’s condition as “healthy” (or “degraded”) unless a value or policy preference is applied to scientific information.
It is easy for readers or listeners inexperienced with policy analysis to interpret “benchmarks” or “baselines” presented by scientists as the implicitly preferred policy choice when that may not be the scientist’s intent. Such value choices (i.e., healthy, degraded, better, worse) arise outside the scientific enterprise, at least in a democracy. Conversely, concepts like “healthy” are common in medicine because there is general public and political agreement about what constitutes a healthy individual human. Thus, the metaphor of a healthy ecosystem analogous to a healthy individual human is weak and misleading. Unlike individual humans, ecosystems do not get sick and die unless someone, using specific values and policy preferences, defines the desired, undisturbed, benchmark, or otherwise preferred state of that particular ecosystem.
For scientists working on contemporary and highly contested ecological policy issues, sticking to science and policy neutrality requires sustained commitment, but it is the right thing to do. Graduate training, professional mentorship, and institutional standards of practice can help ensure that scientists operate within scientific “good practices” and avoid becoming just another confusing advocacy voice struggling to be heard by misusing science. The public is best served when scientists (sticking to Scientific Ecology) are honest brokers of scientific information. Conversely, those slipping into Religious Ecology or other value-based policy constructs are working in the realm of policy advocacy.
Author Info:
Robert T. Lackey (Robert.Lackey@oregonstate.edu) is a professor of fisheries at Oregon State University, where he teaches a course in ecological policy and mentors graduate students. He was previously deputy director of the U.S. Environmental Protection Agency’s 350-person National Environmental Research Laboratory in Corvallis, Oregon, from which he retired in 2008.
Seminar Summary: The overall public policy goal of restoring Pacific salmon wild runs in the Columbia River Basin appears to enjoy widespread public support. Billions of dollars have failed to reverse the long-term, overall decline. To answer the question of whether the effort to rebuild wild runs through the release of hatchery-produced salmon, I asked 58 well-known salmon scientists to predict (anonymously) how the overall abundance of Columbia River Basin salmon (including steelhead) would change after 20 years if fishing was stopped and hatcheries were closed. About 83% predicted that current (wild plus hatchery) salmon abundance (overall Columbia Basin run) would decline without hatchery stocking and fishing. Most surveyed experts predicted that stopping fishing and closing hatcheries would not greatly change the current overall wild-only abundance in the Basin. Based on these results, salmon fishing and hatchery additions are not currently believed to be among the major drivers of the low abundance of wild salmon in the Columbia River Basin. The current overall abundance of wild salmon in the Columbia River Basin (roughly 3-5% of pre-1850s levels) is within the expected range, given the amount and availability of high-quality salmon habitat, past and current ecological changes, and overarching trends in oceanic and climate conditions. Thus,stopping fishing and closing hatcheries likely will not drastically change the current wild salmon abundance in the Basin — and it may well drive wild runs even lower, according to many experts.
*Presented at a Pacific Salmon Commission (Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada) seminar on November 29, 2023.
Wild (non-hatchery origin) salmon and steelhead in the Columbia River Basin are not doing well. Basin-wide, wild salmon and steelhead are roughly 2-4% of their pre-1850s levels. Even the total (wild plus hatchery) current salmon and steelhead run is now less than 10-20% of the pre-1850s levels. About 140 million ocean-going juvenile salmon and steelhead are released annually from fish hatcheries in the Columbia River Basin. Currently, the annual harvest (i.e., from commercial, recreational, and tribal fishing) is strongly dominated by fish of hatchery origin.
Even without major human intervention, salmon runs (whenever I refer to “salmon,” I include steelhead) are notoriously variable annually and decadally. Still, the overall downward trajectory has been apparent over the long term (150 years). Interestingly, the current low overall salmon abundance has not shown an obvious continuing downward trend for several decades. Nor has the trend been plainly upward.
Deciding how important preserving wild (vs. hatchery origin) salmon runs and/or sustaining fishing (vs. the myriad competing public policy priorities such as flood control, energy production, agriculture, etc.) are decisions that society continues to make either explicitly or implicitly. Of course, scientists do not make such tradeoffs, but they should play an important, even essential, role as sources of impartial scientific information and assessments.
One important role is providing expert judgment about complex scientific questions that are beyond the capability of the traditional scientific method. Thus, scientists are understandably uncomfortable when asked to answer “scientific” questions about policy-relevant questions that the scientific method cannot answer.
To help provide relevant “expert” scientific professional judgment to policy and management deliberations, I conducted a “thought experiment” by asking Columbia River Basin salmon and steelhead scientists how (1) stopping fishing and (2) closing hatcheries would most likely affect the remaining wild runs.
In the persistent political controversy over salmon policy tradeoffs, some advocates argue that one or both changes (i.e., stop fishing and close hatcheries) would increase the abundance of wild salmon in the Basin — perhaps even increase the wild plus hatchery salmon abundance. Probably the most well-known example of “close the hatcheries to save wild salmon” advocacy is the Patagonia-produced film Artifishal: The Fight to Save Wild Salmon, which millions of people have viewed. Many other organizations push similar policy perspectives, although not with a billionaire’s financial backing or marketing platform.
Other advocacy organizations push the assertion that continued fishing and hatchery stocking are not currently among the major causes of the very low levels of wild salmon in the Columbia River Basin. An example of such advocacy is the video Benefishal, a direct response to the Patagonia-funded film. Such advocates typically argue that the main reason that any Basin salmon fishing still exists is because of hatcheries.
As a start, consider how much the physical and biological features of the Columbia River Basin have changed since the pre-1850s. Unlike native salmon and steelhead, non-native anadromous fish species thrive in the highly altered aquatic environment. A simple statistic captures the sobering reality. In 2021, the Independent Scientific Advisory Board of the Northwest Power and Conservation Council (ISAB) determined that “ . . . in 2019, about 30 times more shad passed over Bonneville Dam than salmonids (around 7.5 million vs. 0.25 million).” American shad, a non-native anadromous species, is one of many non-native fish species that thrive in the present-day Columbia River Basin. American shad, walleye, crappie, smallmouth bass, largemouth bass, bluegill, yellow perch, channel catfish, and northern pikeare all relatively new species to the Basin. Their success is not surprising to biologists because these species are well adapted to current (and likely future) ecological conditions within the Basin. In stark contrast to native salmon and steelhead, these new arrivals thrive by expanding into much of the highly altered Basin aquatic environment.
It is not that salmon are particularly delicate species, but like all species, they have specific environmental requirements. They can also adjust to some unfavorable conditions. For example, salmon do “stray” in an attempt to find better environments. In one well-known example, the famous Bridge of the Gods blockage of the Columbia River around 600 years ago blocked salmon for several years. When salmon eventually could move past the barrier, they re-colonized the middle and upper Basin fairly quickly. Such blockages were surely common in the Columbia Gorge on the millennial time scale.
Even before the Bridge of the Gods and similar landslides, the Bretz Floods scoured the mainstem Columbia multiple times 13,000 – 15,000 years ago. The distribution and abundance of salmon in the Columbia River Basin would drastically change with each flood (and recovery).
Among salmon scientists, the mid- or pre-1850s are typically selected as the baseline period to benchmark current salmon abundance. However, the 1850s was toward the end of the Little Ice Age, a relatively cool period (1300s – 1800s) that was likely much more favorable to salmon than the Modern Warm Period (1900s – ).
Complicating matters further is the biological reality that salmon and steelhead are fairly adaptable and thus survive in diverse habitats across broad geographic expanses. As populations, they often successfully extend their distribution into different environments. For example, salmon were successfully introduced and spread widely in New Zealand, Chile, Argentina, northwestern Russia, and the U.S./Canada Great Lakes. They colonized other rivers from relatively limited initial introductions and often established self-perpetuating runs. For a contemporary and active example, pink salmon (the species native to the Columbia River Basin), introduced into northwestern Russia, are now expanding into rivers in Norway and probably Sweden.
Caveats aside for the Columbia River Basin, what was the “natural” abundance of salmon and steelhead in prior times? Specifically, how many salmon and steelhead did the Basin support before the 1850s — before most human-driven alterations dramatically reduced salmon numbers? After evaluating all available historical reconstruction data, the Columbia River Basin Independent Science Advisory Board that the Basin-wide pre-1850s aggregate run was likely in the range of 5 to 9 million adult fish per year, with the most likely level at around 6 million. Some other estimates are higher, with the upper bound at 15-16 million. Reconstructing historical run size nearly two centuries ago is challenging — and such assessments should be accepted cautiously.
These days, fundamental technical questions about the influence of fishing, hatcheries, and other factors in controlling the number of salmon (wild and hatchery origin) remain difficult to answer, but have important policy and management implications. For example, many advocates argue that fishing for Columbia River Basin stocks is only viable because hatchery releases sustain current runs. Further and usually, only fin-clipped (hatchery-origin) salmon may be kept, which lessens fishing mortality on wild fish. Without hatchery supplementation, the argument goes, wild runs would be too small to support sustainable harvests at levels demanded by fishing interests.
Classifying a salmon as “wild” requires a degree of arbitrariness. To some, a “native” species may be interchangeable with “wild.” To others, “wild” might mean an individual fish whose ancestors were never in a hatchery (i.e., not “naturalized”). However, when I use “wild” to classify a salmon, I use the definition: “Any salmon spawned naturally and whose parents spawned naturally.” This choice is subjective and used for communication clarity rather than implying a policy preference. This definition means that the offspring of a hatchery fish that spawned naturally (without human intervention) in natural (non-hatchery) habitat are categorized as “wild.” At the end of the day, what society defines as “wild” is a policy or political call, not a scientific one, but it is important to be clear about which boundaries are used to classify individual salmon as wild or hatchery origin.
From another perspective, some say that the only reason there are any “wild” salmon in the Basin is that they (the so-called wild fish) are offspring from hatchery strays that spawned naturally in natural habitat and thus are legally “wild” fish.
Conversely, others claim that most wild runs would flourish without hatcheries and reach sufficient levels to support significant fishing pressure. Thus, hatchery operations are a cause of the low wild runs, and, therefore, they ought to be closed to allow wild runs to rebound.
Of course, answers to these and similar questions involve some hard scientific “facts,” but such questions are far too complicated to answer with traditional scientific experiments and analysis. Modeling might provide a tempting analytical tool, but understanding key ecological/mathematical relationships is limited. Further, the Basin itself has changed in fundamental ways (i.e., dams and substantial changes in land and resource use) in the preceding two centuries. Thus, the opinion of acknowledged experts likely provides the most credible answers to the Basin’s most pivotal and complex ecological questions.
Wild Salmon Recovery
No matter how obvious the past may be to salmon experts, it is important to start salmon recovery discussions with a littlehistorical context. Nearly all salmon runs in California, Oregon, Washington, and Idaho are a shadow of their pre-1850s levels. Further, most of the remaining runs are largely maintained by releases of hatchery-raised fish. Wild salmon comprise only a small portion of most runs. Their overall abundance is a sliver ofhistorical levels. The few relatively abundant current runs are mainly species (i.e.,pink and chum salmon) that spend little time in freshwater before migrating to the sea.
This decline has been known for 150 years, and concerted and substantial efforts have been implemented to recover salmon runs. Especially during the past few decades, the extent and cost of formal recovery efforts for wild salmon have substantially increased — largely a response to lawsuits filed under theEndangered Species Act (ESA).
Every watershed presents unique features and complications. Further, the species are highly variable, and there are exceptions to almost every biological generality. However, overall, the Columbia River Basin follows the typical downward trend in salmon abundance seen throughout California, Oregon, Washington, Idaho, and British Columbia.
While using hatcheries to sustain relatively large salmon runs is plausible — although technically challenging — the requirements of the ESA relative to wild salmon have made the role of hatcheries in maintaining or increasing runs legally contentious.
In my interactions with professional colleagues, they agree — usually only when speaking unofficially — that current efforts will not successfully recover wild salmon to abundances that would assure self-sustainability and support sizable sport, commercial, and tribal harvests. Arbitrarily, such a level of abundance would need to be at least a third of the typical pre-1850s run size to provide politically adequate fishing opportunities, but would still be far short of historical abundance.
But when technical and scientific judgments go against “conventional wisdom,” are scientists likely to be candid publicly? Perhaps, when professional scientists can keep their technical and scientific judgments anonymous (and avoid attacks from policy advocates), their “best guess” might be different.
The Thought Experiment
The thought experiment involved identifying 100 nationally and internationally known experts on the Columbia salmon situation who have published widely in peer-reviewed scientific literature. Based on their extensive scientific publications and other professional activities, these individuals are well known to those who work on salmon issues. All have worked on Columbia River Basin (and elsewhere) salmon issues for decades.
I promised anonymity to all respondents. In the past, working with experts, I was surprised that even “big names” are reluctant to be quoted on such important ecological and policy questions. Specifically, when evaluating salmon issues in the past, I have been amazed to learn that what experts say in public is sometimes not the same as what they say “off the record.” Hence, I guaranteed anonymity to all participants to increase the probability of obtaining more candid responses.
Here is the question sent to each:
I hope you are willing to contemplate and answer with an “expert opinion” (i.e., “a guesstimate”) about the future of salmon in the Columbia River Basin. Briefly, here is the context for the question . . . after someone watched a recent Trout Unlimited presentation of mine, he asked a question that required, on my part, pure speculation to answer. Essentially the listener asked for my opinion about the role of hatcheries and fishing in controlling the current and future abundance of wild salmon in the Columbia River Basin. I offered him a guesstimate along with the usual caveats and cautions. Still, I am not sure that my answer reflects the thinking of the “scientific community,” specifically those most knowledgeable about the issue (that would be you). So . . . let me describe the thought experiment and formulate the precise question.
To set the context for this thought experiment (and for some difficult-to-imagine scenario), assume that the U.S. Government decides to immediately and permanently (1) eliminate all releases from hatcheries (i.e., close them all forever) and (2) stop all fishing directly targeting salmon and steelhead. Now . . . allow for time for at least a half dozen generations of completely “wild” spawning (i.e., several generations of fish whose recent ancestors never were in a hatchery). Further, allow for time to pass so enough years of run size data would somewhat dampen the noise from ocean variations and other climatic factors. So . . . the question . . . after 20-30 years or so of (1) zero hatchery releases; and (2) zero targeted fishing . . . roughly what would be the overall run size in the Columbia Basin compared to current average runs? Stated differently, the question is, ‘approximately how many wild salmon and steelhead would the Basin support without salmon fishing and without hatchery releases, and how would that abundance compare to the past several decades and the run levels of the mid-1800s?’ Be assured that your response will be entirely anonymous. Because you have spent years immersed in this and similar aspects of salmon management and policy, I look forward to reading your “best guess” answer.”
Although the participants are not listed here, they are all well-known in the world of professional salmon scientists, managers, and policy makers. At least in the salmon world, they are “household names” that have been professionally active for years. Very importantly, I thank them all for their candor in answering the question and for trusting me to maintain their anonymity.
Results
The Appendix includes the 58 complete answers reported and discussed here. I reworded (with the author’s permission) some initial responses to provide some measure of formatting consistency.
Of the 100 initially identified experts, I was able to send email requests to 96. Of those, 60 agreed to respond to the question. Two original “acceptors” eventually withdrew their answers because of a concern that the “opposition” or “other side” would use the results to undermine the policy choices that these two individuals strongly supported. In the end, there were 58 of the 60 formally responded to the question. Six of the 96 declined to answer the question, typically citing health or other personal reasons. Three others agreed to answer, but never did submit one, even after receiving an email follow-up request. Twenty-nine never acknowledged receiving the initial email request, nor a follow-up request. Invalid email addresses were likely a cause for at least some of these non-responders, especially because some of these individuals were no longer formally employed by fisheries organizations. A summary of the participation rates is presented in Table 1).
As for the other 58 individuals who did provide estimates, how much their answers were affected by personal or employer policy preference is unknown. However, based on some policy perspectives expressed in emails, policy preferences likely were a factor in some cases. Most (60%) of the contacted salmon experts participated, probably providing a representative sample of prevailing opinion.
I expected to receive many “back-of-the-envelope” and one-sentence guesses, and this was common, but so were detailed analyses and answers. I was impressed by how many respondents took the time to provide logical backing for their key conclusions. Some wrote pages of detailed analysis justifying every assumption used in answering the question. Others bluntly acknowledged that their answer was a “shot in the dark,” and rigorous analysis would not change the reality that the answer provided was an “expert opinion” and nothing more.
As expected with such a general and speculative question, even with light editing (with the author’s involvement and permission), there was considerable variation in how each person worded the answer. To simplify analyzing the overall results, I arbitrarily classified each response into one of 5 generic answers (Table 2 and Appendix). Not every prediction was precisely worded, so in those few cases, and after reading the totality of the background submission, I used my best judgment.
Discussion
Table 2 provides a digest of what the experts conclude about whether stopping hatchery releases and fishing will significantly affect the overall wild run size. I assigned each prediction to one of five general responses (see Appendix).
About 57% (A and B) predicted that wild runs would end up the same (or decrease) in the absence of hatchery stocking and fishing. Such a conclusion must be based on the presumption that hatchery releases somehow “support” the so-called “wild” run, perhaps a case of hatchery strays spawning in the wild and their offspring “replenishing” wild runs. Regardless of the reasoning, most experts did not expect any improvement in overall wild salmon abundance.
About 83% (A, B, and C) predicted that current (wild plus hatchery) salmon abundance (overall Columbia Basin run) would decline without hatchery stocking and fishing.
About 43% (C, D, and E) predicted that wild runs would eventually increase, but most of these predictions were for less than the current wild plus hatchery level. The implicit assumption here is that either fishing or hatcheries (or both) inhibit wild salmon abundance.
About 5% (E) of the respondents predicted an overall abundance greater than the current total (wild plus hatchery) after salmon fishing was stopped and hatcheries were closed.
Many respondents provided detailed explanations of how they arrived at their bottom line. The debate among scientists about the causal mechanisms will surely go on for decades, but resolving that debate was beyond the scope of this exercise. What is important here is to tease out a credible, consensus prediction that might provide policy makers with useful scientific input when addressing the unpleasant choices about the future of Columbia River Basin salmon (vs. all the other competing and popular public priorities).
To reinforce a prior explanation about the source of these predictions, who are the experts I selected for this survey? Almost all were practicing scientists with advanced degrees and publications (not hatchery or fisheries managers). Although only an educated guess, based on my past professional interactions with them, I guess that most probably tend toward the “conservation” side of the salmon policy debate, rather than the “harvest” side.
A final caveat is important to underscore: these scientific predictions are judgments (i.e., expert opinions). Presumably, the ones making the scientific judgments are the most knowledgeable about the topic, but these predictions involve assessing complicated scientific issues and will always involve considerable scientific controversy.
More broadly, and perhaps more pertinent here, such information is only one input into fisheries management and policy. For example, how important to society is restoring runs of wild salmon to support genetic diversity priorities vs. increasing hatchery-supported runs that would sustain higher harvest rates. Scientific input is important for settling such tradeoff questions, of course, but it is only one element driving public policy choices (i.e., the competing values and priorities that play out during the political process).
Implications
The experts who participated in this thought experiment did not seem to believe that closing hatcheries and stopping fishing are currently key limitations to increasing the abundance of wild salmon in the Columbia River Basin. In addition, based on many narrative comments accompanying the predictions, many participants voluntarily noted that a wild salmon recovery strategy that has any chance of restoring wild runs to anything approaching pre-1850s numbers must address several overarching and undisputed realities. They were not arguing that society ought to change these constraining realities, just acknowledging that it is unrealistic to expect much change in wild salmon runs without doing so.
So, according to the surveyed experts, if closing hatcheries and stopping fishing do not appear to be the key to restoring wild runs, what is? Regardless, what are these other realities and how must they be changed to recover wild salmon to even a third of their historical level? Let’s look at some key ones.
Anyone even moderately familiar with the history of North American West Coast salmon is well aware of the main causes of the dire state of salmon runs along the West Coast. These causes are well documented scientifically and include fluctuating and long-term climatic and ocean conditions, dams, mining, water pollution, habitat alteration, over-fishing, irrigation water withdrawals, predation on salmon by many species (often non-native fish species), and many other influences.
Anywhere wild salmon were once plentiful (Europe, Asian Far East, Eastern North America), the decline in their abundance is roughly inversely proportional to the area’s growth in the human population. Over decades and centuries, as the human population expanded in these regions, the size of salmon runs declined to minuscule levels.
Since the mid-1800s, the West Coast (including the Columbia River Basin) is playing out similarly for wild salmon. For example, from a pre-1850 human population level of a few hundred thousand, California, Oregon, Washington, and Idaho are now home to 54 million people. Over the same period, wild salmon abundance in the four States has declined from roughly 50 million to a few million. And the future? Assuming expected human population growth in these four States, by 2100, they will be home to somewhere between 150 and 200 million people — a tripling or quadrupling by the end of this century — less than 80 years from now.
For Oregon, Washington, and Idaho, the human population in 2100 would be roughly 40 – 55 million. Even though many of these people will not reside within the Basin, they will directly affect the Basin’s future. So, what about wild salmon in 2100?
Without dramatic changes in economic policies and lifestyles, future options for restoring salmon runs to significant, sustainable levels will be greatly constrained. Consider that by 2100, Oregon, Washington, and Idaho will have millions more people, including their additional demand for houses, roads, stores, food, coffee shops, air conditioning, drinking water, office buildings, and golf courses — the list is very long.
To illustrate these distasteful policy tradeoffs with one well-known example, how does society choose to balance using water to grow food (e.g., irrigation) vs. using the same water to sustain wild salmon?
Returning to the beginning of this article, not surprisingly, many fish species thrive in the highly altered Columbia River Basin. Although unappealing to many salmon advocates, perhaps any future analysis should address what is realistically plausible? From a fisheries management and policy perspective, it would surely be easier to maintain sustainable populations of many highly valued non-native West Coast fish species (e.g., American shad, walleye, bluegill, smallmouth bass, largemouth bass, channel catfish, brown trout, brook trout, and striped bass). Unlike salmon, these species flourish in the even more altered Sacramento–San Joaquin river system.
Conversely, perhaps restoring (and even maintaining) wild salmon and steelhead runs is so politically popular that nearly any cost or sacrifice is warranted. Such questions are adjudicated in the larger political debates — the events all salmon technocrats read about daily.
In conclusion, based on these survey results, I infer that the current overall abundance of wild salmon in the Columbia River Basin (roughly 2-4% of the pre-1850s level) is within the expected range, given the amount and accessibility of high-quality salmon habitat, past and current ecological changes, and overarching trends in oceanic andclimatic conditions.
Thus, considering the policy implications of the survey results (summarized in Table 2), eliminating hatcheries and fishing is very unlikely to increase the current overall total (hatchery and wild) run size. In fact, it is possible (even likely according to the experts) that current wild salmon runs (wild) would decrease from their already low levels.
Policy-wise, perhaps society is prepared to double down and support the governmentally and individually painful choice to restore wild salmon despite a warming climate, greatly altered aquatic habitats, and opposing demands for flood control, food production, electricity, and other lifestyle desires. Such questions are only partially answered by scientific and technical experts (such as those I surveyed). Rather, these choices primarily depend on competing, often mutually exclusive, individual and societal priorities. These tradeoffs are wholly unpleasant politically; thus, it should not be surprising that options that would actually recover wild salmon are rarely implemented.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Appendix
Categorization of responses (58) to the question “What Would Happen to Wild Salmon Runs if Hatchery Stocking and Fishing Were Ended in the Columbia River Basin?” with the number (and percentage) of respondents agreeing with each prediction.
A – Predicted wild-only Basin-wide run would be less than the current wild-only Basin-wide run. 22 (38%)
“Current total aggregate Basin run of salmon would drop by roughly 80% with the resulting wild-only runs collectively being less than 1% of pre-1850s runs on average.” A
“When things settle out after closing fishing and eliminating hatcheries, I expect the net effect in the Basin to be a decline in the overall abundance of wild salmon because of diverse other adverse factors.” A
“Stopping all additions of hatchery fish and eliminating all salmon fishing in the Basin, after a couple of decades, will result in a decline in natural-origin fish (i.e., wild salmon and steelhead) compared to the current overall abundance level of wild salmon.” A
“I would expect that most of the small populations in the Snake and Upper Columbia would be extinct or functionally extinct and, for the larger populations elsewhere in the Basin, I would expect that they would be at about 10% of their current abundance and declining towards extinction.” A
“If all salmon fishing and salmon hatchery production in the Columbia was terminated, I would expect salmon remnant runs to survive for a while, but over the following 30 years, climate change will ultimately make the Columbia and the associated marine environment uninhabitable for salmon.” A
“Carrying capacity is the key to answering this question because almost none of the current aquatic environments in the Basin has the same capacity as in the pre-1850s and, therefore, a few decades after closing all hatcheries and stopping all fishing, some of the fully wild runs could be extirpated, and others could be slightly larger than the wild portion of current runs.” A
“Over the following few decades, the current average total of all hatchery and wild salmon and steelhead in the Basin would be reduced 90% from current levels to approximately 1% of the pre-1850s level.” A
“Without salmon fishing and with a total closure of all salmon hatcheries in the Basin and with all other policy drivers remaining in place, the overall total run in the Columbia Basin (wild only) would decrease and end up close to zero after a few decades.” A
“After several decades of fluctuations, after stopping fishing and closing hatcheries, the most likely aggregate Columbia run size of wild adult salmon would be approximately 10-20% of current run size (both hatchery and wild).” A
“. . . the end of hatchery production in the Columbia will lead to the extinction of naturally produced salmon.” A
“My gut response to the bottom line of the question — with no fishing and no hatchery releases — I suspect Columbia River Basin salmon will substantially decline from current wild/hatchery levels, and some local populations would be heading towards extinction.” A
“After several decades of no fishing and no hatcheries, wild salmon and steelhead populations in the Columbia would likely drop to 80% overall of the current aggregate level of wild runs.” A
“ . . . there would be less than a quarter of the wild salmon in existence today in the Columbia Basin.” A
“Without fishing and hatchery operations, the overall abundance of wild salmon and steelhead would decrease substantially (to about 50%) due to loss of hatchery contributions to overall abundance.” A
“With no fishing and no hatcheries, after 30 years or so, the number of wild salmon and steelhead in the Columbia Basin would be roughly the same as the current overall number of wild salmon and steelhead; that is, it would be substantially smaller than the current total salmon run size.” A
“Even if all remaining harvest fisheries were eliminated and anadromous hatcheries were mothballed, unless the Snake River migration corridor is restored, all wild Snake River stocks (currently < 3% and < 1% of the 1950s – 1960s and pre-1850 abundances, respectively) will very likely be extirpated within 20 – 30 years.” A
“After a few decades of zero salmon fishing and zero hatchery releases, and everything else continuing along, the abundance of wild runs would end up being less than the current wild run abundance.” A
“With wild fish only, chinook, sockeye, and steelhead (and possibly coho) will likely be near extinction or gone from many, if not most areas of the basin, and wild chum and pink salmon runs may continue at or above current levels.” A
“After several decades without salmon fishing and without hatcheries, the overall net effect in the Basin would be a reduction in the current overall wild-only run size.” A
“Even with the complete closure of all salmon fishing and all releases from hatcheries, the long-term downward trend in wild salmon abundance would continue without any other changes.” A
“Even with closing all salmon fishing and eliminating all salmon hatcheries, the current downward trend in wild salmon runs would continue due to environmental degradation and global warming.” A
“After several decades of ecological adjustment, the resulting aggregate runs of wild salmon (and steelhead) would be less than current runs of the wild component of salmon/steelhead runs and overall run size would, of course, be much lower than it is currently.” A
B – Predicted wild-only Basin-wide run would be roughly equal to the current wild-only Basin-wide run. 11 (19%)
“The current abundance of salmon produced in the Columbia Basin is mostly influenced by coastal ocean carrying capacity.” B
“With the total closure of hatcheries and fishing, over the multiple decade perspective, I expect the change in wild run size to be highly variable, but the overall run size (all wild fish) not to be greatly different than current wild run size, and thus much less than the current total (wild and hatchery) run size, given that habitat does not change.” B
“With no hatchery additions and no fishing, I’m not sure that, even after several decades, there would be much change in wild salmon total numbers in the Basin.” B
“Over the 20-30 yr. period following the cessation of fishing and the closure of hatcheries, the resulting overall level of Columbia Basin wild salmon and steelhead runs would roughly be the same as current wild runs, recognizing that there is a lot of variation in how individual runs would change.” B
“After a few decades without fishing or hatchery stocking in the Columbia, the effects on wild salmon abundance, compared to current levels, will be small.” B
“We will likely not see dramatic changes in wild salmon and steelhead numbers in the Columbia River Basin even if harvest and hatchery production is eliminated, but the number of wild salmon will probably end up slightly higher than it is currently.” B
“Zero change in [wild] adult return rates in the medium to long term.” B
“. . . I do not see great increases in run sizes.” B
“I wouldn’t expect a hypothetical scenario of zero harvest and zero hatcheries would lead to much, if any, improvement to the current overall abundance of wild salmonids in the Columbia Basin unless additional factors were also addressed (habitat, hydro, climate change).” B
“After a few decades of adjusting to the removal of hatchery fish and ceasing fishing (and assuming no other changes), the resulting change in the number of wild salmon and steelhead would be small, if any.” B
“If the U.S. Government decides to immediately and permanently (1) eliminate all releases from hatcheries (i.e., close them all forever) and (2) stop all fishing directly targeting salmon and steelhead, then because Snake/Columbia River Basin salmon and steelhead face persistent constraints to recovery due to development and operation of the Columbia River hydrosysytem, we would continue to see overall rapid declines (although variable) for salmon and steelhead in the Columbia/Snake River Basin and the overall decline would be more dramatic for hatchery supplemented Snake River fall Chinook and Sockeye.” B
C – Predicted wild-only Basin-wide run would be greater than the current wild-only run Basin-wide run, but less than the current wild plus hatchery overall run. 15 (26%)
“After several decades, the abundance of wild salmon and steelhead in the Basin would be well below the abundance in the pre-1850’s, but also below current levels (wild and hatchery) of abundance.” C
“After all the runs adapt to stopping all harvest and closing all hatcheries, the aggregate run size (salmon and steelhead) would average over the long-term roughly 7% of the historical run size (assuming a pre-1850 average of 10 million).” C
“Without fishing and hatcheries, Columbia Basin salmon and steelhead would increase 10-15% in total abundance (compared to total wild fish abundance now).” C
“Cessation of harvest and hatchery production will not lead to a resurgence in the abundance of natural-origin (aka, “wild”) salmon/steelhead in the Columbia River Basin, but will result in maybe a doubling (and this could be optimistic) of the current paltry number of wild adult returns — to a number a bit less paltry.” C
“In the absence of hatcheries and fishing, wild salmon would do better than they currently are, but the resulting wild-only abundance would be somewhat less than the current wild/hatchery abundance.” C
“For the Columbia River Basin, eliminating all harvest and hatcheries will likely result in wild-only runs being somewhat higher in abundance than their current low level, thus substantially below the current hatchery-wild total run, and far below the pre-1850 total run, but also more genetically diverse, fit and resilient, thus better able to deal with and adapt to stressors such as climate change.” C
“As for total run abundance in the Basin, given current habitat conditions, I wouldn’t be surprised to see wild stocks replace much of the lost hatchery production, but there would surely be more big Chinook without an ocean fishery.” C
“Three decades after no salmon/steelhead fishing and no salmon/steelhead hatcheries, there would be substantially fewer salmon and steelhead (wild only) present in the Columbia Basin than are currently present (combined wild and hatchery).” C
“Assuming that only fishing and hatcheries are stopped, but the quality of all other fresh- and saltwater habitats continue on their current trajectories, then there would be about a 10 to 20% increase in natural spawners (wild) in 30 years in the Columbia River Basin.” C
“With no fishing and no hatcheries, the resulting wild-only salmon run in the Columbia Basin would be about twice the current wild-only run, but the current wild run is only a small fraction of the present (wild/hatchery) run.” C
“After several decades without fishing and hatcheries, the overall wild fish run size in the Basin would increase, but, without hatchery salmon, this wild-fish only run would be much less than the current hatchery/wild total, and this resulting aggregate wild-only run size also would be lower than the pre-1850s overall salmon abundance in the Basin.” C
“The resulting wild run only would be 70% of the current adult [wild/hatchery] return.” C
“. . . 1 to 4 fold increase range seems like a reasonable guesstimate [in wild-only overall run size].” C
“The sustainable population size for a wild fish only scenario (no fishing) generally would be quite small. Overall, the total wild Columbia Basin run would eventually settle out at approximately 5% of the pre-1850s run sizes.” C
“Several decades later, the total run in the Columbia Basin (wild only) would be from 5 times to 10 times the current wild fish only run overall, but less than the current total (wild and hatchery) run.” C
D – Predicted wild-only Basin-wide run would be roughly equal to the current wild plus hatchery Basin-wide overall run. 7 (12%)
“Without hatcheries and fishing, there would be about the same production as currently exists for combined wild and hatchery fish in the Columbia River Basin.” D
“Given a few decades to adjust, the wild-only aggregate abundance would increase compared to the present aggregate return of wild/hatchery salmon to the Basin.” D
“My best guess for the Basin population response is that (after stopping fishing and closing hatcheries) the total number of returning fish (composed entirely of naturally produced adults) would equal or increase slightly over the present total return (composed of mostly hatchery and some naturally produced adults).” D
“Under the hypothetical scenario of zero hatchery releases, zero salmon harvest, and everything else continuing, after a few decades, I would predict that many (but perhaps not all) salmonid populations (they would be wild only by then) would level out to roughly 20% of the pre-1850s levels.” D
“With no fishing and no hatcheries and allowing for several decades for adjustment, the collective run size would be about 1-2 million, which is roughly what the total (hatchery and wild) is currently.” D
“Without hatchery supplementation, wild fish runs alone would be about a fifth of the historical size, approximately the current level with both wild and hatchery fish.” D
“After sufficient time for salmon and steelhead runs to adjust to no fishing and the complete elimination of hatchery operations, roughly speaking, total salmon abundance in the Basin would be largely the same, but there likely would be differences in how different species respond.” D
E – Predicted wild-only Basin-wide run would be greater than the current wild plus hatchery Basin-wide overall run. 3 (5%)
“Eventually, salmon and steelhead runs would return to about 20-30% of their pre-1850s abundance with the now totally wild runs fluctuating between about 2,000,000 to 3,500,000.” E
“The remaining wild salmon and steelhead populations would rebuild to the limit of today’s Basin habitat capacity, which roughly would result in an all-species total run of 50% of historical run size.” E
“The aggregate run size (wild fish only) in the Basin would rebound to approximately 30% of the pre-1850s run size.” E
Earlier this month, a colleague asked me if anything had changed in the twenty years since the publication of my op-ed about the prevalence of “delusional reality” regarding the future of wild salmon in California, Oregon, Washington, British Columbia, and Idaho. He added, “perhaps you would write the paper differently today?”
To provide some context for my answer, here is a slightly edited version of the piece published in 2001 in Fisheries, the professional magazine of the American Fisheries Society:
# # # # #
Are we professional fisheries scientists collectively guilty of encouraging delusions about the possibilities of restoring wild salmon to the Pacific Northwest?
In my informal discussions with colleagues, most conclude that the likely scenario for wild salmon numbers (even assuming implementation of any of the hotly debated “restoration” proposals) is a continuing long-term downward trajectory in California, Oregon, Washington, British Columbia, and Idaho.
A fundamental basis for this sobering conclusion is that the Pacific Northwest’s human population (including British Columbia) will almost certainly grow dramatically through this century — from the current 14 million to between 40 and 100 million. Predictions of population levels a century from now are contentious, but I have yet to find anyone who disputes the presumption that there will be many more people in the region by the end of this century. Whether the number will be 40, 60, 80, or 100 million is contested, but the population will be several times higher. A cursory examination of regional data depicting historical human population density/development and wild salmon distribution/abundance reveals a stark negative relationship.
Speaking as a scientist, and not as an advocate of any policy position or option, the assumed future level of the region’s human population is simply a factor (policy driver) to be considered in evaluating the future of wild salmon. Given the predicted human population increase, the overall, long-term, downward trend in wild salmon abundance is nearly certain unless there are spectacular changes in the lifestyles of the region’s inhabitants. But, apart from equivocal polling data, opaque political rhetoric, and grand statements of intent, there is little tangible evidence that most people are willing to make the substantial personal or societal changes needed to restore large runs of wild salmon. I contend that the future of wild salmon is not hopeless or foreordained, but society has collectively shown scant willingness to adopt the policy choices necessary to reverse the long-term downward trend in wild salmon.
Thus, after considering ecological and societal context, most colleagues conclude, usually “off the record,” that by 2100 wild salmon in the Pacific Northwest will consist of mere remnants of pre-1850 runs. None of the species likely will become extinct by 2100, but many stocks or populations will have disappeared, and those that remain will have small runs incapable of supporting appreciable fishing without technological interventions such as hatcheries or artificial spawning channels. To visualize the most likely future, we only need to look at the remnant anadromous salmonid runs in the eastern United States, continental Europe, and the Asian Far East, especially China, Japan, and Korea. At one time, each of these regions supported thriving populations of wild salmon. They no longer do, nor is there any likelihood they will in the foreseeable future.
As society’s fisheries experts, do we perpetuate the delusion that the Pacific Northwest will (or could, absent pervasive lifestyle changes) support wild salmon in significant numbers — given the current trajectory of the region’s human population growth coupled with most individuals’ unwillingness to reduce substantially their consumption of resources and standard of living? It is not our role as scientists to assert that society should make the changes necessary to restore wild salmon, but our implicit public optimism about restoring wild salmon perpetuates an avoidance of reality. Intended or not, we end up misleading the public.
Let me illustrate with a personal example.
A few years ago, I completed a manuscript that assessed the future of Pacific Northwest wild salmon for the Salmon 2100 Project. Any assessment dealing with salmon always stimulates scientific and policy debate, but my primary conclusion was:
“The near-certain growth in the human population in the Pacific Northwest through this century, coupled with little indication that most people will accept the enormous lifestyle changes necessary to perpetuate, much less restore, wild salmon, means that restoring “fishable” runs of wild salmon in California, Oregon, Washington, British Columbia, and Idaho is a policy objective that is not likely to be achieved.“
Most of the several dozen fisheries scientists who reviewed the manuscript accepted the conclusion as realistic, even intuitively obvious, but the following were typical reactions to the overall message:
These people were not challenging the human population trajectories presented in the manuscript. They accepted the population growth trajectory and the continuing unwillingness of most people to make the sacrifices necessary to reverse the downward trend in wild salmon. There is, of course, a possibility that society will collectively adopt “voluntary simplicity” as a dominant lifestyle, but most readers did not expect such a change to transpire on a large scale. Even so, the message, they argued, would be better received if it was cast in more upbeat terms.
“The message is correct, but it is too pessimistic.”
“You need to look for a way to tell the story more optimistically.”
“Such a pessimistic message is not fair to all those fisheries biologists in the trenches trying to do their best to save salmon.”
How can assessing the future of wild salmon be concurrently acknowledged as accurate and too pessimistic? Should it not be a hallmark of fisheries scientists to provide realistic predictions of the future rather than either pessimistic or optimistic ones?
As expected, many reviewers offered the usual arguments about the relative importance of commercial, recreational, and Indian fishing, dams and their operation, agriculture, forestry, urbanization, roads and right-of-ways, pollution, changes in the climate of the ocean and atmosphere, competition and predation from exotic species, predation by marine mammals and birds, and various concerns about hatcheries and commercial aquaculture. However, the overall conclusion of nearly all reviewers did not differ significantly.
Most fascinating was the recurring suggestion, even a plea, to “lighten up” and be more optimistic and positive in assessing the future of wild salmon. I had written the article to be blunt, direct, and realistic, and I avoided both pessimism and optimism. How could reviewers conclude that the manuscript was realistic in content and conclusion, but at the same time encourage me to abandon realism and honesty in favor of optimism — a suggestion that would mislead all but the most astute readers?
Several reviewers suggested that if my objective in writing the article was to help save wild salmon (it was not), then the accurate, realistic message would leave proponents dejected. This common sentiment is captured by:
“You have to give those of us trying to restore wild salmon some hope of success.”
Conversely, a few veterans of the salmon wars confessed their regret over the “optimistic” approach that they had taken during their careers in fisheries, and they endorsed the “tell it like it is” tactic. They felt that they had, especially early in their careers, given false hope about the effectiveness of fishways, hatcheries, and their agency’s ability to manage mixed stock fishing. I was left with a feeling that many professional fisheries scientists have been, and still are, subtly pressured by employers, funding organizations, and colleagues to “spin” fisheries science and policy realism to accentuate optimism.
Other reviewers took professional refuge in the reality that senior management or policy bureaucrats define the priorities — and thus research questions and topics — often resulting in narrow, reductionist scientific information and assessments. Rarely are fisheries scientists empowered to provide “big picture” assessments of the future of salmon. Whether inadvertent or not, such information often misleads the public into endorsing false expectations of the likelihood of the recovery of wild salmon.
For many of us, such implicit optimism is a healthy, rewarding way to go through life. Is adopting unfounded “professional” optimism a harmless adaptive behavior of little import? After all, “think positive” slogans are a hallmark of many self-improvement programs. What is wrong is that optimism does not convey what is happening with wild salmon, and it allows the public, elected officials, and fisheries managers to escape the torment of confronting triage.
Fisheries scientists should be realistic and avoid being either optimistic or pessimistic. This professional stance does not covertly argue in favor of an “imperative” to save wild salmon regardless of society’s cost, nor does it necessarily support a “defeatist” strategy. Such choices should be made by an informed public that is aware of the difficult tradeoffs. Restoring wild salmon is only one of many competing, important priorities, and the public is entitled to be accurately informed about the long-term prospects of success.
It is easy to find comfort in debating the nuances of hatchery genetics, evolutionarily significant units, dam breaching, salmon barging, selective fishing regulations, predatory bird control, habitat restoration, atmospheric and oceanic climate, and unintentionally mislead the public about the realities of the situation with wild salmon. As discomforting as it may be to disclose the future of wild salmon relative to society’s apparent values and preferences, our most helpful contribution as fisheries scientists is providing information and assessments that are policy-relevant but policy-neutral, understandable to the public and decision makers, and scrupulously realistic about the future. Otherwise, we squander our professional credibility to become acolytes of delusion.
# # # # #
OK, now back to the question initially posed to me — has the policy and scientific landscape for wild salmon changed over the past twenty years? To answer bluntly . . . nothing substantive has changed from what I described in 2001. In short, the simple, direct answer is, “No.” As I observe the political and policy landscape in 2021, the article could have been written today.
The policy drivers are fundamentally the same. And further, there is no indication that the major salmon policy drivers —and the public’s overarching competing policy priorities —have changed over the most recent two decades, nor does major change appear imminent.
Speaking as a scientist, this situation is not “good” or “bad,” it just “is” — but this reality should be conveyed accurately to policy makers and the public.
For fisheries scientists, the answer should not precipitate either joy or sorrow, but rather it is simply a reality — a reality that scientists should present to policy makers and the public in an even-handed, understandable, candid, and honest manner.
No delusional reality. No conspiracy of optimism. No wishful thinking. Defend reality.
Many of today’s ecological policy issues are politically contentious, socially wrenching, and replete with scientific uncertainty. They are often described as wicked, messy policy problems (e.g., reversing the decline of salmon; deciding on the proper role of wildfire on public lands; what to do, if anything, about climate change; worries about the consequences of declining biological diversity; making sense about the confusing policy choices surrounding notions of sustainability).
Wicked, messy ecological policy problems share several qualities: (1) complexity — innumerable options and trade-offs; (2) polarization — clashes between competing values; (3) winners and losers — for each policy choice, some will clearly benefit, some will be harmed, and the consequences for others is uncertain; (4) delayed consequences — no immediate “fix” and the benefits, if any, of painful concessions will often not be evident for decades; (5) decision distortion — advocates often appeal to strongly held values and distort or hide the real policy choices and their consequences; (6) national vs. regional conflict — national (or international) priorities often differ substantially from those at the local or regional level; and (7) ambiguous role for science — science is often not pivotal in evaluating policy options, but science often ends up serving inappropriately as a surrogate for debates over values and preferences.
As if they are not messy enough, ecological policy issues may become further clouded by skepticism about the independence of scientists and scientific information. Much of the available science is tendered by government agencies, companies and corporations, and public and private organizations, as well as myriad public and private interest and advocacy groups. Each arguably has a vested interest in the outcome of the debate and often promulgates “science” that supports its favored position.
All ecological policy problems have unique features, thus there are exceptions to every generality, but are there lessons learned that can be broadly applied? Like all axioms, mine are not universally true, but are applicable in most situations.
Ecological Policy Axiom 1 —The policy and political dynamic is a zero-sum game
Probably the most sobering reality for the uninitiated is that selecting any proposed policy choice results in winners and losers. The search for a “win-win” choice, which sounds so tantalizing to decision makers, is hopeless with even superficial policy analysis. There are always winners and losers even though people running for office may try to convince the voters otherwise. This axiom is why policy making is sometimes described as “the political process of picking winners and losers.”
Ecological Policy Axiom 2 — The distribution of benefits and costs is more important than the ratio of total benefits to total costs
Benefits are the consequences of a policy option or decision that are categorized as good outcomes. Benefits are sometimes measured solely in terms of money, but are more broadly encompassed by all the desirable things that are most likely to happen. Conversely, the costs are the undesirable outcomes that are likely to happen (often, but not always, measured in monetary terms).
Ecological Policy Axiom 3 — The most politically viable policy choice spreads the benefits to a broad majority with the costs limited to a narrow minority of the population
Democracies operate on delegated compromise validated by periodic voting. To gain sufficient political support (votes) for a proposed policy, it is prudent for the decision maker to spread the benefits across a sufficiently large number of people to garner majority support. The corollary is that those (including future generations) who bear the costs should be a minority and the smaller the better.
Ecological Policy Axiom 4 — Potential losers are usually more assertive and vocal than potential winners and are, therefore, disproportionately important in decision making
With many ecological policy questions, those who bear the costs, the losers, have a disproportionately greater influence on the decision making process. While policy analysis tends to evaluate the rationality of competing policy arguments, the political process tends to weigh breath and vigor in support of each competing policy option. Issues of perceived fairness are important in the political process, but difficult to quantify in policy analysis.
Ecological Policy Axiom 5 — Many advocates will cloak their arguments as science to mask their personal policy preferences
Technocrats, as I apply the label, are individuals with scientific training who are responsible for implementing law or ecological policy. There is an understandable impulse by technocrats to insert what they think is or should be the appropriate public policy goal or option. For example, should ecological restoration be aimed at recreating the ecological condition that existed at the beginning of the Holocene, just prior to 1492, or at the end of last week? The answer requires making a value judgment — a policy choice that is necessarily a political judgment — and it is not a scientifically derived decision. Ecologists and other scientists should assess the feasibility and ecological consequences of achieving each possible restoration target. Selecting from among the choices, however, is a societal enterprise.
Ecological Policy Axiom 6 — Even with complete and accurate scientific information, most policy issues remain divisive
The lament that “if we just had some better science, we could resolve this policy question” is common among both scientists and decision makers. Calls for more research are ubiquitous in ecological policy debates. In most policy cases, even if we had complete scientific knowledge about all aspects of an issue, the same rancorous debate would emerge. Root policy differences are invariably over values and preferences, not science and facts.
Ecological Policy Axiom 7 — Demonizing policy advocates supporting competing policy options is often more effective than presenting rigorous analytical arguments
Scientists and policy analysts become frustrated when they fail to recognize that political debates are partly logical argument and partly image. Negative images are often considered more effective in swaying people than positive ones. In fractious ecological policy debates, proponents often spend more energy demonizing their opponents than sticking to rational policy analysis. My experience is that such tactics are often effective in policy debates; many people are moved by negative arguments.
Ecological Policy Axiom 8 — If something can be measured accurately and with confidence, it is probably not particularly relevant in decision making
In my experience, most scientists prefer to talk about things that they can measure with some degree of confidence. Fish population abundance, recruitment rates, optimal habitat, toxicity levels, and field surveys are within our comfort zone. We can put confidence limits on these numbers; we can duplicate the data gathering year after year; we can often forecast future conditions with some degree of confidence.
Ecological Policy Axiom 9 — The meaning of words matters greatly and arguments over their precise meaning are often surrogates for debates over values
In my experience, many citizens get frustrated in ecological policy debates because the advocates of various competing choices often seem to argue over semantic nuances rather than getting on with making decisions. The precise meaning ascribed to key words is important and is often the battleground over what policy option is ultimately selected. The debate over definitions is really a policy debate. How should pivotal words such as “ecosystem health,” “sustainability,” “degraded,” “biological integrity,” “endangered,” “wild,” and “impaired” be defined? Definitions chosen will lead (at least in the mind of the uninformed) to a particular policy option. Thus, the debate over what might appear to be semantic nuances is really a surrogate debate over values and policy preferences.
Conclusion
Many of today’s ecological policy issues are contentious, socially divisive, and full of conundrums. They are, however, typical of those that professional natural resource and environmental scientists will confront, both now and for the foreseeable future. Those of us who provide information to help inform the participants involved in ecological policy debates need to be cognizant of and appreciate the importance of scientific information, but we also must recognize the reality that scientific information is just one element in complex political deliberations in a democracy.
More than two decades ago, while Deputy Director of EPA’s national research laboratory in Corvallis, Oregon, I presented a talk to a group of community activists about why salmon populations along the West Coast have dropped to less than 5% of their historical levels. I’ve given such talks many times so I was confident that I had heard just about every question that might be asked. I was wrong.
The opening question was asked by a well-known political activist. He was direct, pointed, and bursting with hostility: “You scientists always talk about our choices, but when will you finally tell us what we SHOULD do about the dramatic decline of West Coast salmon? Quit talking about the science and your research and tell us what we should do! Let’s get on with it!”
From the nods of approval offered by many in the audience, his impatience with science and scientists was broadly shared.
What does the public expect from scientists regarding today’s ecological policy issues? Some examples of such policy challenges include the decline of salmon; deciding on the proper role of wildfire on public lands; what to do, if anything, about climate change; the consequences of declining biological diversity; and making sense of the confusing policy choices surrounding “sustainability.”
The lament “if we just had some better science, a little more data, we could resolve this policy question” is common among both scientists and decision makers. Calls for more research are everywhere in ecological policy debates.
In most cases, even if we had complete scientific knowledge about all aspects of an issue, the same rancorous debate would emerge. Root policy differences are invariably over values and preferences, not science, data, and facts.
In a pluralistic society, with a wide array of values and preferences competing for dominance, the ecological policy debate is usually centered around whose values and preferences will carry the day rather than over scientific information.
So what was my answer to the emotionally charged question from the political activist?
It was: “Science, although an important part of policy debates, remains but one element, and often a minor one, in the decision-making process. We scientists can assess the ecological consequences of various policy options, but in the end, it is up to society to prioritize those options and make their choices accordingly.”
In science, when you see the words “natural,” “healthy,” “degraded,” and “biological integrity,” all these terms, and many others, have embedded assumptions about what someone or some organization regards as a desirable value choice, a preferred policy choice.
These and similar words have no place in science. They are classic examples of normative science. Their use in scientific publications is simply policy advocacy disguised as science.
The words are fine for management, expected in policy advocacy, but not OK in science.
Here is a test: first, put on your science hat. Now imagine that the public owns a 5,000-acre stand of old-growth (never logged) forest which is being considered by a government agency for an alternative use. Scientifically, is it preferable to (1) preserve this landscape as is, or (2) remove the trees and build a wind farm?
Neither ecological state is preferable scientifically! At least not without assuming, perhaps unwittingly, a policy preference, a value choice. If the science relevant to this policy question is presented in such a way to subtly favor either policy option, it is a classic example of normative science.
It may look like a scientific statement. It may sound like a scientific statement. It is often presented by people who we assume to be operating as scientists. But, such statements in science are nothing more than “policy advocacy masquerading as science.”
Anyone following basic scientific principles should say:
“Pristine ecosystems are neither superior, nor inferior, to human-altered ones. Different, for sure, but not better or worse.”
Let me wrap up by offering Charles Darwin’s advice to scientists. Remember that he was under a lot of social pressure to make his scientific findings conform to the dominant political and theological views of the time. He offered pithy guidance to scientists:
“A scientific man ought to have no wishes, no affections, a mere heart of stone.“
Strict, uncompromising, and unequivocal advice, but spot-on for scientists both then and now.
Several years ago, toward the end of my career with the U.S. Environmental Protection Agency, one of the “outreach” staff in Washington, DC, telephoned me in Corvallis and posed a question: “In science, why isn’t the notion of ecosystem health a useful metaphor to convey scientific information? I see the metaphor used all the time.”
When I provided a long-winded, complicated, technically rigorous answer, the staffer was obviously disappointed. Evidently, he was looking for something simple and clear-cut. I then asked, ever so diplomatically, to provide a brief written answer that could be published in the EPA internal blog. What follows is an edited version of what was submitted.
Very young children have a habit of asking innocent, but thorny questions. My grandson, however, has reached an age where innocence no longer passes for an excuse for his questions; he knows enough now that his questions reflect the traits of a budding intellectual troublemaker.
A case in point: here is my answer to his question about the increasingly popular term: ecosystem health.
“Grandpa, in school today in my science class, we talked about healthy ecosystems. My teacher says that when we are not feeling well, we go to a doctor to find out how to get healthy. If I have a sick ecosystem, she says that I should go to a scientist to find out how to make the ecosystem healthy. Dad says you are a scientist, so what is a healthy ecosystem?”
It is a good question and one that I, as a research scientist who has worked on such issues for over 40 years, should be able to answer with ease.
This seemingly straightforward question, however, does not have a simple answer. Further, the answer requires a clear understanding of the proper role of science in a democracy.
First, how is a person to recognize a healthy ecosystem? Many might identify the healthiest ecosystems as those that are pristine. But what is the pristine state of an ecosystem? Is it the condition of North America prior to alterations caused by European immigrants, say 1491? Or perhaps it is the condition of the land sometime well after the arrival of immigrants who came by way of the Bering land bridge, say 1,000 years ago? Or maybe it is the state of North America prior to the arrival of any humans, say more than 15,000 years ago?
Ultimately it is a policy decision that will specify the desired state of an ecosystem. It is a choice, a preference, a goal.
For example, a malarial-infested swamp in its natural state could be defined as a healthy ecosystem, as could the same land converted to an intensively managed rice paddy. Neither the swamp nor the rice paddy can be seen as a “healthy” ecosystem except through the lens of a person’s values or policy goals.
Once the desired state of an ecosystem is specified by someone, or by society overall through laws and regulation, scientists can determine how close we are to achieving that goal. They might even offer some approaches that might better achieve the goal. Ultimately, though, it is society that defines the goal, not scientists. One person’s sick ecosystem is another person’s healthy ecosystem.
So, the answer to my grandson’s provocative question is that human health is not an appropriate metaphor for ecosystem health. There is no inherently “healthy” state of ecosystems except when viewed from the perspective of societal values.
Pristine ecosystems (e.g., wilderness watersheds, Antarctica, uninhabited tundra) are certainly very different than highly altered ecosystems (e.g., farms, city parks, harbors) but neither a pristine ecosystem nor a highly altered ecosystem is scientifically better or worse — just different.
Is more and better science the key to resolving environmental policy debates? Some scientists — and many others without training in science — seem to think so. The short answer, however, is that science is rarely, if ever, is the key.
But, how often have you heard this lament from scientists:
“If we just had better science, or at least more science, more data, the best policy choice would be obvious — and we could move on. It is a lack of science that is the main obstacle to deciding what to do.”
This lament, or permutations of it, is often followed by a proposed course of action:
“Fund us and we’ll provide you with the necessary scientific information to make for an easy decision!”
I know. I’ve followed this script many times in the never-ending search for research funding. It is the reality for those of us employed in the highly competitive world of research and consulting.
Here’s my confession. When I was working as a research scientist at the Environmental Protection Agency, part of my job was to convince the EPA regulatory people (i.e., the folks with the money) that their main problem was really a lack of scientific information. You know the marketing pitch: send money, you’ll buy more science, and more science will solve your policy-making problem.
To prosper these days, a research scientist must play this game and play it well. More money means you can hire additional staff, buy better equipment, publish more papers, and ascend the scientific pecking order.
But the fact is that science rarely drives policy debates, at least not policy debates that people care much about.
Let me illustrate with an example of how more science muddles a policy debate. It is an example from far away, a case study that you can analyze with detachment and comfort, but one that illustrates what has become ever so typical in ecological policy.
Think about my part of the world, the Pacific Northwest, Oregon, Washington, Idaho, and British Columbia. For over three decades, there has been a highly polarized debate over what the primary purpose of the publicly owned forests should be.
Simplifying this complex policy debate down its core question:
a) Should these public lands be managed for sustained timber production to foster economic development generally, and for rural communities, specifically?
or
b) Should these public lands be preserved for non-consumptive uses such as recreation and species protection that primarily benefit urbanites?
But what have you read about? About the plight of the northern spotted owl, right? An at-risk species that almost no one, even most enviros, cared much about prior to its selection as the species of choice to trigger the Endangered Species Act.
Even more bizarre, the major political debate over choosing between two competing, and legitimate, policy goals collapsed into endless court cases revolving around the most esoteric life history details of this obscure species.
No wonder much of the public has become cynical about the political process — and the role of science.
Some policy advocates admit, at least in private, that selecting a charismatic species was a tactic to awaken the substantial legal power of the Endangered Species Act. In short, the “scientific facts” about spotted owls became a legal weapon, a surrogate, used by advocates to achieve their primary policy goal: to stop logging on public forests.
Conversely, other policy advocates, especially those promoting logging to support rural communities economically and meet domestic demand for lumber and paper, pitched science in a way that supported their policy goal: to allow logging on public forests.
Great for policy advocates, they are free to use whatever tactics or tools work in policy debates, but for the credibility of scientists in the eyes of the public, it was very costly.
If through some miracle, we could miraculously and instantly learn everything possible about spotted owls, the policy debate would continue because science has simply become a weapon in the larger policy war.
It is values that largely drive policy choices, not science. Yes, science is important in assessing the consequences of each of the available policy options, but it is people’s values that drive which option is preferred. Similarly, policy “win-win” only exists in the sham arguments pitched in election-year political campaigns. Every policy choice involves winners — and losers. There are no free lunches; an inconvenient truth for sure for scientists, the public, and decision-makers.
