It’s official. The May 2012 issue of Rural Connections will focus on “Local and Regional Food Hubs Boost Rural Economies,” so check out the Call for Abstracts and submit yours by the March 5th deadline!
By Stephanie A. Malin
The recent earthquake and tsunami in Japan have captured international attention, which now lingers on the nation as Japan struggles to control and contain repeated disasters and tense moments at its six-reactor Fukushima Daiichi Nuclear Plant. I focus on this series of events for this month’s blog because these nuclear accidents may have unexpected impacts on economies in remote rural pockets of the American West.
Even as the Fukushima Daiichi workers struggle through tense moments, in southwestern Colorado, Energy Fuels’ Piñon Ridge Uranium Mill (PR Mill) has been given approval by the Colorado Department of Public Health and Environment (CDPH&E) to receive and process radioactive materials. Local communities like Nucla and Naturita are populated with many people in vocal support of the mill for the jobs it will likely provide, with the most vocal being residents possessing fond memories of the last uranium booms. Though a few licenses must still be acquired before construction can begin, the CDPH&E’s approval in January of the PR Mill holds significance and substantive meaning, given Colorado’s status as an Agreement State in which state-level institutions such as the CDPH&E give final approval on the mill equivalent to that granted by the federal-level Nuclear Regulatory Commission. Company leaders and local residents remain confident that ground will be broken by 2012 and that the mill will provide at least 65 full-time, benefitted jobs. This assurance remains, despite a lawsuit brought against the CDPH&E and Energy Fuels by regional environmental group Sheep Mountain Alliance (SMA).
Politically, state-level approval of this mill signals that perhaps US sentiments regarding nuclear power have shifted for the first time since the late 1970s. Since that time – when the Three Mile Island incident left Americans largely skeptical of siting new nuclear facilities anywhere near their own communities – not a single nuclear reactor has been built or waste repository location approved. Even the Piñon Ridge Uranium Mill, if constructed, will be the first uranium mill built since the end of the Cold War. Residents of communities near the mill that I have interviewed and surveyed see the mill as one of the best chances for the area to reclaim its economic and cultural glory days as a uranium production powerhouse.
Current events at the Fukushima Daiichi Plant may, however, pose a palpable threat to this possible local-level economic resurgence; a bigger ‘threat’ than even the hotly-contested SMA. As an international audience watches radioactive steam releases, explosions, and a public terrified of radiation exposure, the uranium market has been dealing with its own unpredictability (eg., see http://www.cbc.ca/fp/story/2011/03/16/4451889.html). Uranium prices and worldwide demand have halted as the Fukushima Daiichi drama unfolds. China, one significant source of demand for processed uranium – even from the PR Mill – has announced it will slow down its plans for nuclear expansion in the country. With about 77 nuclear reactors either in the planning or construction phases, even a temporary moratorium on China’s nuclear reactors deeply impacts the global uranium market. For example, a large Canadian uranium corporation – Uranium One, Inc. – was supposed to join with another Russian-owned uranium corporation, ARMZ, to take over another resources firm. However, that deal has been halted by ARMZ. Last week, the price of uranium also fell from about US$66 to US$55. If prices for it fall below US$40, uranium becomes much less profitable to mine and process, even for experienced outfits like Energy Fuels in southwestern Colorado.
It remains to be seen if this market change is temporary, or if the Fukushima Daiichi disaster will have the same sort of impact on construction of nuclear-related facilities as did Three Mile Island and Chernobyl. As rural Westerners in communities like those around the proposed PR Mill watch and pray for Japanese well-being and safety, I wonder if they also think a little of their own futures and well-being. It may be that the fate of Fukushima Daiichi helps decide the fate of rural uranium communities where recession has been reality since the early 1980s.
By Ed Meyer
For more than three decades, I’ve made a conscious effort to stay far away from the divisive diatribes so typical of arguments regarding public lands and the environment. When I’ve been ambushed in a meeting and forced to listen to the well-practiced public lands rhetoric repeated for the thousandth time, an image comes to my mind. It’s an image of the Dugum Dani warriors from the New Guinea highlands that I recall from the University Utah where I was studying social anthropology.
Keep in mind that I was taking anthropology classes thirty years ago so my memories are blurred by time, but here’s how I remember films I watched back when you still had to wind film onto projectors. It seemed like the women did all the work in the Dugum Dani villages. They raised sweet potatoes and tended pigs while the men got ready to go to “war”. Since the men didn’t wear anything except a “koteka” (look it up for yourself at http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Koteka because I’m not going there), preparations seemed to most involve a lot of chest thumping and a little face painting. However, in the late morning or early afternoon, the men would go to a canyon where they yelled at men from another tribe and shot arrows that never seemed to hit anything. The technical term for this is “ritual small-scale warfare and here’s how Wikipedia describes it:
Ritual small-scale warfare between rival villages is integral to traditional Dani culture, with much time spent preparing weapons, engaging in both mock and real battle, and treating any resulting injuries. Typically the emphasis in battle is to insult the enemy and wound or kill token victims, as opposed to capturing territory or property or vanquishing the enemy village.
If you are interested in learning more about the Dugum Dani, you may want to visit http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dugum_Dani. As an aside, the ritual battles I saw in college in 1972 have become much more serious as the primate Dugum Dani have come in contact with the outside world and now are being sold high powered rifles.
I’ve certainly circumnavigated around my point which is that pretty much everyone embroiled in the battle over public lands remind me of the Dugum Dani warriors mocking one another, insulting the “enemy”, rattling arrows and firing ineffective volleys at one another. To me it has always seemed so wasteful and counterproductive. So I chose another route that focused directly on trying to help people at the community level.
But now I’m retired and want to propose something that was not politically appropriate when I was a state employee. Before I make my proposal, I want to go back to my anthropology training and dredge up from my ancient lessons the theories of a guy named Abraham Maslow. He proposed something now known as Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs in his 1943 paper A Theory of Human Motivation (I expect all of you sociology students are groaning about now). Mr. Maslow was a pretty boring guy so let me summarize how his concept relates to rural America and the public lands debacle.
Maslow said that people need to take care of a whole host of needs before they will focus on an area he called “self actualization”. In terms of rural America, you have to make sure you provide food and shelter for yourself and your family before you will be willing to consider more lofty goals like protecting the environment. So when you are forced to give up a job in a sawmill or a mine that pays a family-sustaining wage in exchange for turning bed sheets in a motel, you won’t be receptive to ideas like protecting wilderness areas. If you want be really bored, visit http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Maslow%27s_hierarchy_of_needs.
So here, based on Maslow, is my idea and my challenge to the environmental community. Rural people will never embrace protection of the environment and tying up public lands until they have family sustaining jobs. So you can fight them until hell freezes over. You can keep filing lawsuits draining your budgets and those of people living in rural America or you can invest in an alternative strategy. If you don’t want rural people to continue their efforts to obtain family sustaining, natural resource-based jobs, then you need to find a way to substitute environmentally sensitive jobs that pay a family-sustaining wage.
Think about it. Thousands of companies professing to be environmentally conscious are contributing to environmental movements. What if instead of doing this they invested in rural communities adjacent to public lands by providing “clean jobs”. What this would entail is a willingness to sustain a loss for a few years as the new rural employees are trained and gain experience. In some cases, there might even be an ongoing loss since many rural communities are isolated, but the growth of information-based jobs should counterbalance the cost of isolation. It is my experience that, once a rural person’s family needs are addressed, they are more willing to consider environmental partnership to address mutual needs.
Of course, this isn’t likely to happen. Environmental organizations don’t sustain themselves by solving environmental problems. Rather, it’s in their interests to sustain problems for generations if possible. But prove me wrong. If you have an idea about an environmentally clean company who wants to provide jobs next to sensitive public lands, call me in Kanab. My name is Ed Meyer and my number is in the phone book. Next month I’ll let you know how many calls I’ve received.
The Western Rural Development Center is soliciting articles for its June 2011 issue of Rural Connections. The topic for this issue will be challenges and opportunities facing the rural West relative to climate change and climate change policies.
Abstracts Due: Friday, March 4, 2011
Click here for the details.
The EPA says, “The extent of climate change effects, and whether these effects prove harmful or beneficial, will vary by region, over time, and with the ability of different societal and environmental systems to adapt to or cope with the change.”[i] The Center is interested in understanding challenges and opportunities facing the West’s rural communities as they relate to climate change. Furthermore, the Center wants to share this information with its stakeholders to increase awareness of the region’s activities and to build the capacity of Extension and communities by providing them with relevant and timely information.
The WRDC is not interested in arguments for or against climate change, rather the WRDC is interested in sharing with its stakeholders the research and community and economic development activities that are underway in the region to address currently changing climates and how these changes are bringing economic opportunities and/or challenges to the West’s rural communities.
The topic of challenges and opportunities facing the Rural West as they relate to climate change and climate change policy is broad in scope and allows for submissions from a wide range of sub-topics including but not limited to the following topics listed in no particular order of priority:
- Climate change policies and how they are impacting business/job growth in the West
- Impacts of Climate Change on Agricultural Production
- Impacts of Climate Change on Natural Resources
- Impacts of Climate Change on National Security
- Innovations in Climate Change Technologies Manufactured in Rural Communities
Click here to read and download the complete Call for Abstracts.
[i] US Environmental Protection Agency. Climate Change – Health and Environmental Effects. Retrieved February 3, 2011, from http://www.epa.gov/climatechange/effects/index.html
The WRDC is pleased to introduce Ed Meyer as one of our bloggers. Mr. Meyer oversaw the Utah Governor’s rural economic development programs for 25 years before retiring to Kanab, UT. Currently he contracts with Southern Utah University to provide entrepreneur support in Kane County. He runs his own consulting firm dealing with rural incentives, serves on the Kanab City Council, and serves on the board of a local non-profit that promotes events that incorporate education, business and the arts.
Without further ado, here’s Ed.
Last fall a marvelous film called “Milking the Rhino” was screened in Kanab as part of the Southern Utah Documentary Film Festival. After the film, I had the honor of facilitating a discussion with the film’s co-producer Jeanne McGill. Though the film is about Africa’s Himba Tribe in Namibia and the Maasai Tribe in Kenya, the land management model they are using is one we should consider here in the American West.
First let me set the stage by explaining that the Himba and Maasai have traditionally survived largely through cattle ranching. Though they raise their cattle in different ways for different purposes, these African tribes share a common economic bond with the West’s cattlemen. They also face a similar challenge in that they have traditionally been denied access to adjacent lands. In their case, these lands have been locked up in game reserves patrolled by armed guards. Historically these guards have shot tribesmen who touch one foot inside the reserves. Though the situation in the American West is certainly not as dramatic, ranchers are regularly being forced from public lands, largely due to environmental challenges. Another similarity is that the Himba and Maasai have often lost livestock to lions and other predators that are protected inside the reserves. Certainly this draws a comparison to issues in the American West such as the reintroduction of the wolf and other predatory species.
In recent years, the governments of Namibia and Kenya have recognized that the ongoing conflicts with tribal cattlemen are counterproductive. They have also realized the tremendous market for eco-tourism and the potential value this new economic opportunity could provide for the Himba and Maasai. In order to take advantage of this opportunity, they have implemented a management tool we might consider in the American West called community-based conservation.
What the African governments have done is create conservation districts incorporating the lands within the traditional game reserves and allowed the local tribesmen to make management decisions. Typically these decisions might address issues like whether predators that threaten the cattle should be relocated for the benefit of eco-tourists or whether they need to be destroyed, perhaps by a hunter willing to pay a premium. Another example was whether portions of the game reserve that had previously been off limits for cattle grazing should be opened during times of drought. The film’s title “Milking the Rhino” comes from the decision tribesmen were forced to make when white rhinos were tramping fields and destroying crops. The tribesmen recognized that the white rhino was one of the most popular animals for the ecotourist and decided to relocate it in hopes of “milking the rhino” for tourist dollars. While the jury is still out regarding how effective these community-based conservation districts will be, it is significant that each tribe now has a new eco-tourism lodge created through collaboration with professional managers. The lodges provide jobs for natives and the profits are shared with the tribes. Profits are negotiated with the tribes and, if the managers can’t come to an agreement, the tribe has the authority to order them from the land.
I’d like to ask the readers of this blog whether they can share examples of how a similar model has been tried in the American West. Before you answer, let me clarify my request. I’m not looking for examples where the federal government has created advisory groups to provide input or even grassroots projects the federal government allows to occur because they are consistent with their management plan. What I am looking for are examples where the federal government has actually turned management of federal lands over to groups of local stakeholders to manage for some purpose.
I understand that there are reasons it would be difficult to implement community-based conservation in the American West. I expect to hear all kinds of reasons why it can’t be done. Quite honestly, I’m tired of hearing why things can’t be done. What I hope to see are examples where something similar is being done and suggestions of what might have to occur to make it happen given our unique public lands models.
If you would like to learn more about the Himba, the Maasai and community-based conservation, I encourage you to visit http://MilkingTheRhino.org. A related site is www.bullfrogfilms.com/catalog/milk.html where you can download an outstanding study guide based on the video. Finally, if you would like Jeanne McGill to speak at an event, please email me at firstname.lastname@example.org and I can provide contact information.
Greetings to new and long-time friends and acquaintances,
I’m excited that the folks at Western Rural Development Center (WRDC) invited me to share my thoughts and ideas in a regular monthly blog. Since many readers won’t know me I’ll start with a brief introduction that I hope will help position me as someone who has something meaningful (and worth reading) to say about rural communities. I was born in rural Michigan and raised on a small farm. I attended a one-room schoolhouse and had the same teacher for kindergarten through second grade. Fortunately I liked Mrs. Horten and I think she was a really good teacher. Mrs. Horten returned to teach us again when we reached sixth grade . . . did she REALLY like our cohort so much that she wanted one more teaching experience with us? In seventh grade my 18 classmates and I were bussed about an hour from our farming community across town to help desegregate an inner-city school in Lansing. We were pulled from our rural homogeneous farming community and bussed to a school where the majority of students were urban Latino and Black youths – although neither of those terms was common back then, and this language certainly wasn’t what I heard in the halls and on the school grounds! The two-year experience substantially supplemented the education we received in the classroom. We each lived and experienced desegregation in a very personal way.
The long bus ride every morning also meant getting up very early since I milked our three cows before school! I’ve always explained that it was this chore that resulted in my love for the early hours. (I’m still an early riser, often awake at 4:00 AM.) Ninth grade brought another big change – I attended high school closer to home, surrounded by working farms, and graduated in a class of 69 students – a small fraction of the students that had been in my inner-city junior high!
After graduation I attended a small private college in rural Olivet Michigan for two years, mostly on athletic scholarships thanks to Title IX. The passage and implementation of Title IX, much like desegregation, was an event and movement far larger than me but both had significant direct effects in framing my life at a young age. After a short “time-out” I transferred to the University of Michigan and after two years of classes graduated from the School of Natural Resources. While attending college I worked during the summers as a Michigan state park ranger, and it was here that my professional interest in recreation, parks, tourism and special landscapes took root. After completing my Bachelor’s degree I moved to Alaska and working as a seasonal park ranger, this time with Alaska State Parks. I spent 7 years in Haines – a community of around 1200 residents. During the “off-season” I frequently worked as a substitute teacher in the local schools. I have great stories of my time in Haines – building two cabins, and living without running water or electricity for seven years. I hope to weave some of these stories into future blogs.
After being promoted to regional manager, in 1983 my job was moved to Juneau, Alaska’s capital . With the exception of Juneau, Southeast Alaska communities are all small and rural with no other community (there are 31) having more that 9,000 residents. Only three of the 31 communities have road access. The remainder can only be accessed by water and air and only a few of them have road access to another community. My home in Juneau lies within the Tongass National Forest, the nation’s largest national forest at 17 million acres. Eighty percent of the land in Alaska’s panhandle, as the Southeast Region also is known, is within the national forest, the world’s largest temperate rainforest.
Like many communities across the western United States, resource extraction activities, including timber harvesting and processing and mining, are important to the economies of Southeast Alaska communities. Tourism and commercial and charter sport fishing are important for several communities. For example Juneau hosts approximately one million cruise ship visitors from May through September every year (TravelJuneau.com). Each of these economic activities generates controversy that cycles in and out of the news over time.
Oops, I got carried away with introducing Southeast Alaska and forgot to finish MY story. In 1989 I quit my job with the State of Alaska and moved to Seattle. A big change for a small town girl! I had been accepted into the PhD program at the University of Washington, College of Forestry. I immediately jumped into my first “research” study exploring the potential social effects of off-shore oil and gas development off of the coast of Washington and Oregon. I spent an enjoyable summer learning how to design research questions and studies, conduct interviews, and develop surveys. I traveled from Forks, Washington to Bandon, Oregon interviewing local residents and visitors about the importance and value of the area to them. This experience evolved into a life-long interest and professional research focus on “sense of place” and attachment to special places. The oil and gas study was abandoned and that’s a story for another time.
When “my” study was cancelled I was fortunate to arrange work with the Forest Service, Pacific Northwest Research Station (PNW), Seattle Forestry Sciences Laboratory, working on a social science research team called the People and Natural Resources Program. Over the past 20 years (my 20 year anniversary is this month!) my research topics have included recreation, tourism, public participation, resource planning, sense of place and place attachment, community resilience and community capacity, community wildfire mitigation and preparedness, volunteering, partnerships and collaboration, and a variety of other topics. (Published research papers are available at Treesearch by typing “kruger” into the Author box, or searching on Google.) While working full time for PNW I completed my program at the University of Washington in 1996 (I’ll write more about my dissertation research experience in a future blog) and, finding that there was plenty more to learn, I enrolled in a Master’s Degree program in Whole System Design and Organization System Renewal at Antioch University in Seattle. I finished my Antioch program in the summer of 2003 and moved back to Juneau later that year.
Since returning to Juneau I have enjoyed working with fellow PNW employees at the Juneau Forestry Sciences Laboratory, Alaska Region Forest Service employees, communities on the Tongass and the Chugach National Forests, several State and Federal agencies, and Alaska Native communities and organizations. I have many stories to share and lessons I’ve learned that I hope will provide a springboard for our virtual discussion!
In closing, my current passion is individual and community health and wellness. I have many ideas for projects that engage community organizations and groups in developing healthier communities and research studies that demonstrate the importance and value of spending time outdoors and being in nature. As individuals I think we can each benefit from information that helps us make more informed personal choices and our decision makers need better information in order to make informed decisions on our behalf. If you haven’t read the September 2010 issue of Rural Connections (Volume 5, Issue 1 – 10MB PDF) please take time to read it now.
In closing, welcome to 2011! Thank you for sharing your thoughts with me. I look forward to hearing from you and continuing our conversation over the coming year.
Linda Kruger is a social scientist with the U.S. Forest Service, Pacific Northwest Research Station in Juneau, Alaska.