THE POWER OF ONE

Holly Endersby

Population stabilization is such an emotionally charged issue. But the present head-in-the-sand approach that we're following simply can't continue. It's up to each of us to talk about population.

The steel-gray lake heaves and rolls. Wind gusts hurl frigid water at the boat. On this raw November day, I have ventured onto northern Idaho's Priest Lake with a local fishing guide. I'm paired with a father-son duo from Boise for some Mackinaw fishing.

Huddled around a tiny heater, we begin trading stories of past fishing and hunting adventures. The older man mentions he is the father of six children. His 20-something son says he has yet to marry. Both love the outdoors. But, the father laments, it is getting harder to find good places to hunt and fish. The conversation reminds me of an agreement I made with a close friend a few weeks earlier. For years, we had been concerned about humanity's burgeoning population and what it means for life on Earth. We felt the need to do something, to try to be part of a solution. Working full-time jobs, neither of us could afford to make tackling population growth the centerpiece of our lives. However, the words of Margaret Mead, the great American sociologist, gave us an idea. She said, "Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful committed citizens can change the world." In other words, social change begins with individuals and spreads like ripples on a pond. Perhaps, we thought, we could make a difference one person at a time. By talking about population growth whenever the opportunity arose, we could bring attention to the problem. I had no idea that my first chance would come in a storm-tossed boat with people I had just met.

By now, my fishing partners and I are several hours into our trip. We clearly share a deep love of the outdoors. I am reluctant to say anything that might sound accusatory or put either man on the defensive. Finally, I decide staying silent simply will not cut it. Taking a deep breath, I ask the father why he thinks all the good hunting and fishing places around Boise are gone. "Well, because there are so many new people in the area," he explains. "The population of Boise and the surrounding towns has exploded. It's sure not like it was when I was a kid."

Keeping my voice non-confrontational, I ask, "Do you think having six children might have contributed to the problem in any way?" He is confused by my question.

"Well," I explain, "it's not just people moving in that's made Boise's population grow. The number of kids that long-time residents have helped to push the numbers up as well. And population increase, of any kind, impacts hunting and fishing opportunities."

I remember him mentioning the loss of farm fields where he used to hunt geese, and I ask him why they disappeared.

"New subdivisions," his says without hesitation. "And strip malls." What, I continue, does he think will happen if our population just keeps growing? Will his grandkids have the same opportunities to hunt and fish that he had?

Shaking his head, he says, "I never thought of it that way. Having a large family was just something we did." An honest answer.

Glancing at his son, I suggest, "Well, it's not too late to talk to your children about population and how it impacts hunting and fishing." Our guide, a father of one, chimes in.

"That's why clients can keep only two fish apiece now," he explains. "With so many more people fishing on this lake, higher catch limits would destroy the fishery. I want my daughter to run the business someday if she chooses, but that means I have to do all I can to avoid depleting the numbers of fish." The sudden bowing of a rod grabs our attention, and all thoughts turn to landing a ten-pound trout.

But a stone has been cast, and ripples are spreading.

Making a Commitment to Act

When my friend and I decided to test Mead's statement and make an effort to change one person at a time, we had nothing to lose. Talking with others about the impacts of an ever-increasing human population wouldn't be expensive or time consuming.

To remind us of our agreement, we decided to keep a diary, making note each time we discussed population. We agreed to e-mail each other whenever we added a new entry. We haven't created a big splash. No newspapers have taken note of our efforts. No environmental organizations are beating down our door. No Nobel Peace Prize is being offered. But we're making ripples on the pond. And they will widen, touching more lives in the process.

Nibbling Around the Edges

Hunkered behind a spruce tree, resting my rifle against a convenient stob, I hear the hollow thump of the heavy animal coming my way through thick timber. My husband's bugle is answered with an enraged scream from below. His next bugle is met with silence, but the movement of shrubs and the pungent smell of the bull's urine and mud-coated body announce the animal's presence. Releasing the safety and snuggling into the stock, I wait for him to clear the rise.

Two days later, after a 25-mile pack out of the Idaho wilderness with one elk apiece, we meet some hunters at the trailhead. They have seen no elk and are heading home in disgust.

"We heard elk numbers were down," one of them says, "but didn't think it'd be this bad. The wolves are probably eating all the elk. You folks are really lucky to get two bulls."

"Luck has nothing to do with it," my husband contends. "The elk are still out there, but the biggest bulls are in roadless areas. Wolves are picking off the old, sick, and weak, not healthy animals. "Elk aren't stupid," he continues. "They stay away from areas with the most hunters. It's pretty much that simple."

Remembering my decision to talk about population whenever possible, I take the plunge.

"Trout Unlimited gathered data this year that shows more branched bulls and older bucks are taken in roadless areas in Idaho than in the roaded areas," I comment. "The real problem in finding big game is our own numbers. As our population increases, the hunting areas closest to roads are getting crowded. That forces elk and deer even deeper into our last roadless areas. And that means hunters have to work harder."

The men are clearly unconvinced. But by not countering their statements, I would be giving credence to them. Though it is often uncomfortable to discuss topics such as human population with fellow hunters and anglers, especially strangers, the stakes are too big not to.

By blaming their lack of success on external forces, the frustrated hunters are nibbling around the edges. Instead of tackling population growth head on, people peck at the symptoms. We try to control sprawl, we urge more sustainable forestry practices, we encourage recycling. These are important strategies that deserve a lot of effort. But when you come right down to it, by not controlling our own numbers the human species is exceeding the planet's carrying capacity-its ability to support us with things like food, shelter, and clean water. We might think we are different from other species in that regard, but the natural world treats all life the same. Just as disease, malnutrition, and starvation force elk and deer herds to crash when they exceed the carrying capacity of their environment, our own numbers will produce a similar fate if left unchecked. Hunters and anglers should understand that biological truth better than most people.

Self-Empowerment

Jason Reynolds is a junior at Unity College, a small, private school in rural Maine. The school focuses on environmental issues, sustainability, and practical application to address the challenges facing our planet. Reynolds says that he felt compelled to act after listening to a speaker address population issues. Because Maine has a small population, he reasoned, a small group of people can have a significant impact on a candidate's ability to get elected. So he decided to talk to Maine's senators and representatives about the issue of population. But when he called on these officials, only one, then-freshman Representative Michael Michaud, agreed to meet with him.

"Mr. Michaud wanted to learn and get more information about population growth," Reynolds recalls. "His openness to exploring the issue made him a good potential advocate for addressing population issues at the federal level."

Later that year, Michaud co-sponsored a bill advocating international family planning. Reynolds' one-on-one approach, passion, and perseverance were instrumental in bringing this important issue to the forefront of his elected official's agenda.

Men and women who hunt and fish have nothing to lose and everything to gain from Reynolds' approach. As our population continues to skyrocket and habitat is gobbled up, opportunities to hunt and fish will continue to decline. If you haven't contacted your elected officials about the need for population stabilization, do so now. Write a letter. Send an e-mail. Make a call. And keep sending out the message that we must take voluntary steps to limit our own numbers. Accept nothing less than action.

More pebbles, more ripples.

A Thirty-Year Retrospective

In 1972, President Nixon set up the Committee on Population Growth and the American Future. Headed by John D. Rockefeller, III, the group was dubbed the Rockefeller Commission.

Eminent Americans on this group studied the issue of population growth from a multitude of professional disciplines. At the end of their studies, the committee issued a report that said, "After two years of concentrated effort, we concluded that, in the long run, no substantial benefits will result from further growth of the Nation's population. Rather we found that the gradual stabilization of our population would contribute significantly to the Nation's ability to solve its problems."

Since that report, the U.S. population has grown by approximately 85 million people. Is it any wonder that our wildlife diversity, habitat, and hunting and fishing opportunities are dwindling? Should we be surprised that state and national parks are feeling the brunt of air pollution brought on by motorized visitors and coal-fired power plants, or that global climate change, with its implications for natural systems, is staring us in the face?

Yet, we continue to nibble at the edges because population stabilization is such an emotionally charged issue. It's overlaid with the right to personal choice, religious belief, and cultural heritage. But the present head-in-the-sand approach that we're following simply can't continue. It's up to each of us to talk about population.

The good news is it'll get easier. Like most frightening and heady topics, the more we talk about it, the less daunting it seems. Discussions of population stabilization today are where discussions about sexuality were in 1972. The difference is that those topics are more acceptable to talk about while population stabilization is still a subject avoided by businesses, environmental groups, and government.

Those of us who pursue our passions out of doors intuitively understand the need for clean water, air, open space, and solitude. What we have yet to grasp is our power to affect change to preserve those values. That power comes by talking to one person-tossing one pebble into the pond-at a time.

Holly Endersby is a fulltime freelance outdoor writer, a former school principal, the mother of one and the grandmother of two. She and her husband have 8 horses and mules which they use on long trips into the Idaho backcountry. Protecting wild land and native species is an important part of her writing, hence, her concern about over-population by our own species.