Tuesday, 28 Jan 2003
BOISE, Idaho
Would you invite an environmentalist over for dinner? Recent focus groups designed to explore public perceptions of environmentalists suggest that many folks would not. Why? They think we're picky, that we complain too much, and that we won't eat the food.
I think I'm fun to have over for dinner. You probably are, too. The problem is perception. In politics, however, perception is as important as reality, and a lot of our work gets done in the political arena -- so both the message and the messenger matter.
Lush green devil's club covers the ground beneath old-growth cedars in a northern Idaho roadless area.
Photo: Jay Krajic.
Today I'm the featured speaker at the Boise Rotary Club. I'm going there to talk about the Idaho Conservation League and our work to protect the Boulder, White Cloud, and Pioneer Mountains. When I talk, I don't want to offend the group or make anyone angry. I certainly don't want anyone to be bored. I want my audience to care about Wild Idaho, and understand why the work I do is important to them. Then I want them to help me protect this great place. I need to meet my audience where they are, and speak to the values they hold close to the heart.
Idaho is an easy place to love; just go outside. But it is a hard place to protect, in part because of its long history of resource extraction, and in part because of a challenging cast of characters in public office. Another factor is the success of a few special interests groups in leveraging public opinion, often using what should be our imagery. But a more controllable factor is that people like me sometimes say dumb things. So today, when I'm talking to the good folks of the Rotary Club, I'll try not to put my foot in my mouth by sounding shrill, unbelievable, or out of step with my neighbors. I learned this lesson the hard way: When talking to reporters, I know I've given a few sound bites that were real zingers -- fun to say, but counterproductive to the cause. One lousy quote can harm my own efforts more effectively than my opponents can.
Faith Bremner and I just talked for 45 minutes about the current national political climate. She's the Washington, D.C.-based reporter for Gannett News Service, the parent company of the Idaho Statesman. When my comments get chopped up and placed in a story (assuming they get used at all), will what I say build empathy with the reading public? Will I be a trustworthy and credible spokesperson? Or will I sound like a nut? The whole time I was talking to Faith about the environmental rollbacks that are sure to come, I kept thinking, "How will this play with the busy mom reading this before the kids head out to school?" I want to sound like someone she'd like her kids to meet. That's who I am, after all.
Rafters enjoy whitewater rapids beneath spectacular basalt cliffs in the Owyhee Canyonlands of southern Idaho.
Photo: Steve Bly.
Not all my work on this sunny Tuesday is about being liked and listened to. Our conservation advocacy staff meets with our legal team this afternoon for planning. Bad things are happening to Idaho's forests, streams, air and wildlife, and sometimes it takes a lawyer to solve the problem. Our legal work with Laird Lucas and the rest of the Boise-based Advocates for the West is a vital part of our program. Litigation not only stops environmentally harmful projects; sometimes, it is also a catalyst for negotiation and creative problem-solving.
Sometimes, we also need litigation to defend laws the government has decided it would rather ignore, like the Clinton-era "roadless rule," which protects millions of acres of national forest. When the state of Idaho challenged the rule, Bush's lawyers took a pass -- but we intervened and ultimately won an extraordinary victory thanks to Doug Honnold of Earthjustice.
Our work to protect Idaho's values and Idaho's wilderness requires a multitude of strategies. We can win in the courts, but we must also win in the court of public opinion. A few years back, a staffer for the then-speaker of the U.S. House of Representatives told me (apropos of an environmental issue we were discussing), "That's nice, and you might even be right, but no one in my district believes you."
I heard that message. I learned something, too. Let's hope I can take that lesson and put it to work during my speech to the Rotary Club.
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