Why Poverty, Not Affluence, Is the Environment’s Number One Enemy
Written by Jack M. Hollander Reviewed by J. Bishop Grewell
In The Real Environmental Crisis: Why Poverty, Not Affluence, Is the
Environment’s Number One Enemy, Jack Hollander hopes to teach
environmentalists that the key to protecting Planet Earth both locally and
globally lies in understanding that poverty guides the poor. Hollander’s
thesis is simple: wealthier nations and peoples improve environmental quality
rather than degrade it. This runs contrary to the rhetoric of many environmental
organizations.
Professor Hollander is not the first to make such a claim. Bjorn
Lomborg made this argument with his 2001 tome, The
Skeptical Environmentalist. A host of economists, most notably the late
Julian Simon, have argued along the same lines. But Hollander brings credentials
to the table that might garner more respect among those in the hard sciences.
Neither a statistician like Lomborg, nor an economist like Simon, Hollander was
an early pioneer in the environmental sciences when ecological research focused
more on ecosystem energy flows. At present, he is Professor Emeritus of Energy
and Resources at U.C. Berkeley. He is largely credited with positing the
wealthier
is healthier argument.
Much of Hollander’s data (as well as his thesis) will be old hat to those
who read Lomborg’s Skeptical Environmentalist. Hollander tackles
whether we can feed
everyone (we can), what to do about fishing
problems (affluent nations have technological and institutional solutions
available), global
warming (affluent nations are prepared to adapt if it is a problem), water
scarcity (again technological fixes are available to the wealthy with the
proper institutional incentives), and air
quality (improving steadily in the wealthy parts of the world).
Hollander’s writing on each of these subjects tends to be less interesting
than Lomborg’s. (Who would have thought a statistician could write?) And
Lomborg’s extensive citations make it easy to pull the original material when
trying to sell it to a skeptical audience. Hollander’s citations are
comparatively sparse. But Hollander does spare the reader the torture of over
100 pages on global warming – something that Lomborg would have been wise to
do.
Where Hollander really brings some fresh air to the “wealthier is
healthier” front is on the subject of energy policy. Given Hollander’s
extensive background in the field, it should not be surprising that the chapters
on nuclear power, fossil fuels, and renewable energy are where he shines. They
are the most informative part of the book and also where Hollander’s
excitement for the material finally surfaces.
After challenging those who argue we will soon run out of fossil fuels,
Hollander moves on to describe the differences in fuel use in the developed and
developing world. The developed world employs cleaner fuels such as oil and
natural gas while the poor are stuck with dirty-burning fuels such as wood,
coal, and animal dung. Adding insult to injury, direct exposure to indoor
emissions from these fuel sources create severe health problems and shorten the
lives of those in the third world. Poverty is once again the culprit.
Hollander’s discussion of renewable energies is downright fascinating. Wind
power and direct solar energy, according to Hollander, actually make a lot of
sense for the developing world as they don’t require the large capital
investments for transmission and distribution that fossil fuels and
fossil-fueled electrical power require. But according to Hollander, extensive
subsidies for large-scale renewables in the developed world have swallowed up
the investment for small-scale renewables that could work in the developing
world. Thus, the wealthy world’s drive for renewables is preventing their
development for the parts of the world where renewables could truly improve
people’s lives.
As for nuclear
power, Hollander believes the environmental benefits could be great, but
that the public has confused the dangers of commercial use with those of
military use. He acknowledges that certain forms of nuclear power create a risk
of providing material for terrorist-type activities, but thinks the public will
come around to nuclear power in time. Staying with the theme of his book,
though, he notes that nuclear is simply not viable for the developing world.
All of the environmental progress noted in Hollander’s book is wonderful
news, but there remains more to do. First, as Hollander points out,
“environmental quality will always remain a work in progress” because the
bar for acceptable environmental quality will continually move higher as
countries attain new levels of wealth and human standards evolve (192). More
pressing for Hollander, many countries remain far from even the most basic
environmental tipping points. In determining how to get those countries over the
hump is where Hollander falters.
He is correct that freedom, democracy, and open markets are important
ingredients in wealth creation. Likewise, he is correct that basic human rights
and education are important, too. But there are two major failings in
Hollander’s approach. First of all, he has not learned from fifty years of
failed development policies. He thinks foreign aid must continue. Hollander
believes it can work if it is to on-the-ground assistance to the poor rather
than the large, project-focused development of the past and if everyone
basically tries harder (194-196). Fifteen minutes with many a Peace Corps
volunteer, however, will reveal this is patently false.
The U.S. and other international donors have attempted to focus on more
localized projects. Furthermore, it would be difficult to find anyone more
dedicated to making development work than the Peace Corps volunteers that I’ve
spoken with over the years. Neither effort nor scale of projects is causing aid
to fail. The problems with aid are more inherent. They cannot be fixed through
tinkering.
Joshua Hill, who is currently a PhD candidate in Economics at George
Mason University, served in the Peace Corps in Togo for two years
(2000-2002). He identifies three problems with development assistance that are
particularly telling. First, development assistance creates a culture of
dependency. Second, it diverts the “best and brightest” away from creating
wealth to managing aid. Finally, foreign aid’s annual hand-outs retard the
development of the institutional systems needed for a lasting improvement.
During his tour in Togo, Hill was assigned to spur local entrepreneurs into
small business. But there was sparse demand for his services because locals were
still recovering from a pounding development hangover left by a half-century’s
overindulgence in foreign aid. Twenty years ago, locals would have responded to
Hill by asking why they should struggle to create an enterprise when they could
sit around in the shade, drink the local brew, and wait around for the next
development check. But with cutbacks in aid, a few wish to engage their
entrepreneurial spirit. The inertia of a dependency culture is hindering the
progress as even knowledge of how to act like an entrepreneur has been lost.
Corruption further discourages entrepreneurship as formal businesses become
subject to bribery demands by local bureaucrats.
The bureaucracy is by no means evil, but its members are also part of the
culture of dependency. During the “golden” years of development, there was
no incentive to seek the long term growth that comes from institutions grounded
in the rule of law rather than the rule of lawlessness. As bureaucrats and
government officials could rely on their next foreign aid check, they had no
need to raise money through internal taxes. Without a need for tax income, there
was no reason to encourage the businesses that could provide that revenue. Thus,
no time was spent developing the rule of law, the property rights, and the
contracting systems that lead to the long term growth of private business. When
the aid stopped flowing, many officials turned to bribery as a means to their
own survival.
The second problem, diversion of the “best and brightest,” derives from
the Siren’s song of development salaries. The best paying jobs in developing
countries exist as government jobs (often funded by foreign aid) or as aid jobs
themselves. Even if aid amounts are small for the giving countries, they are
enormous to the receiving countries. Aid and government jobs pay premiums upon
premiums above local private jobs. It should be no surprise that the “best and
brightest” citizens of developing countries seek the higher paying aid
positions. This leaves few skilled workers in the private sector. The
entrepreneurial spirit dies as the “best and brightest” specialize in
distributing wealth and no one works to create it. “Clearly, we want social
workers in a country,” writes Hill. “However, most countries pay them
considerably less than stock brokers or lawyers…” Yet, in the developing
world, foreign aid has created a system where everyone seeks social work
positions, because the pay scales are off the chart. This perversion of the
labor market has had disastrous repercussions for wealth creation in the
developing world.
Finally, foreign aid retards the development of institutions that create
wealth: democracy, contracting, property rights, and other rule-of-law
components. For instance, Hill argues the micro-lending programs currently in
vogue distort market signals. It is difficult to get credit in impoverished
countries, not because the return is too small for international lenders, but
because a lack of enforceable property rights and a miserably weak rule of law
make it too risky for lenders to provide credit. After all, credit card
companies lend small amounts to clientele every day --- size doesn’t matter,
the institutions do. Micro-lending removes the incentive to fix the
institutions.
If a country and its people will be given credit through the aid process
without reforming the problems preventing private credit, then why should the
country expend time, effort, and money on reform? Cheap credit exacerbates the
problem by masking the informational signal that institutional problems exist.
This leads to a second criticism of Hollander’s work: He underestimates the
importance of property
rights and the rule
of law in the wealth creation process. As Hernando
de Soto so eloquently explained in The
Mystery of Capital, property is essential to wealth creation. Without
property, small business cannot offer the collateral necessary for securing
capital to get up and running. Small businesses also need to know that sales
made to consumers will be paid off. Clear property rights allow entrepreneurs to
extend credit to consumers, so that purchases of goods and services can be made
in the first place. Without property rights, only extralegal enforcement such as
strong men can provide the necessary insurance to help the market blossom. And
strong men cost money.
Property is also important because successful businesses require investment
by the owner. But if the investment may be taken away on a whim, i.e. if
property ownership is not clear, the risks are too high to make the necessary
investment. Corruption, a product of a lawless society, creates huge burdens in
the form of bribes and red tape that make it easier for entrepreneurs to give up
and collect aid checks instead of pushing forward with building a new way of
life for themselves and their countrymen.
After more than a decade of experiments and a growing amount of data on what
it takes to stimulate economic growth, Milton Friedman has modified his
position. Now he says: “It turns out that the rule of law is probably more
basic than privatization. Privatization is meaningless if you don’t have the
rule of law. What does it mean to privatize if you do not have security of
property, if you can’t use property as you want to?” Without the rule of law
and secure property rights, growth is unlikely to occur. Free market discipline
may be necessary for economic growth, but there is growing evidence that markets
must be prefaced by the rule of law and secure property rights (xvi).
Property rights not only help the environment indirectly through wealth
creation, but they also reduce environmental degradation directly by making
individuals and industries accountable for their own environmental conditions
while providing them with the power to do something about it. As Bruce Yandle
and others explain in You Have to Admit It’s Getting Better,
“Rising incomes enable human communities to build advanced property rights
institutions that limit environmental decay and reward environmental
improvement.” (86).
Here and there, Hollander’s Real Environmental Crisis glimpses the power of
property rights and the rule of law. He argues for property rights to protect
fisheries. (64). His advocacy of water markets as a solution to water allocation
problems assumes property rights even if it they are not explicitly mentioned.
(98-99). He even cites The Mystery of Capital, though he seems to have
missed the importance of its message. (199-200). Hollander would better deliver
his own message if he took a page from my friend Sean Anderson who often reminds
me, “Property rights are human rights.”
Maybe foreign aid could succeed if it were directed at developing these
property and rule-of-law institutions. Rather than investing in projects,
foreign aid could invest in processes, as it has attempted with the last fifteen
years of so-called “capacity-building.” But the potential for success from
institution-building remains murky and has bore little fruit to this point. A
neo-conservative vision of establishing top-down the institutions of democracy,
rule of law, property rights, human rights, and other manna from the western
canon butts up against history where institutions have been developed from the
bottom-up. Ideas may arrive from the outside, but acceptance must be home-grown.
To find out how property rights and the rule of law develop, it helps to look
at the early fermentation of these institutions in the developed world.
Institutional economists Terry Anderson and P.J. Hill do just that with The
Not So Wild, Wild West: Property Rights on the Frontier. As they explain,
the tradition of branding cattle in the American West was a successful mix of
outside ideas adopted internally to create property rights that blossomed from
the bottom-up. In contrast, the top-down efforts of the Homestead Act ignored
developing customs and proved a recipe for disaster.
According to Anderson and Hill (148-158), branding was adopted from the
Spanish. Ranchers in the American West developed their own brands via custom.
The brand and its location on the animal helped settle who owned what cow and
allowed cattleman to run their herds together on the open range. Over time,
however, a cattleman in the eastern part of a state might have the same brand as
one in the western part of a state, which could get confusing if they were both
bringing cows to town for sale. To solve this problem, the ranchers lobbied the
state governments to set up a registration system to formally recognize the
system of branding that they had developed organically. This also reduced
conflict as the state took on the role of enforcing property rights through
brand inspections. No longer did someone need to shoot the man who stole his
cows, because now he could take them to court.
Westerners also developed their own customs for divvying up the vast open
lands of the American frontier. The advent of barbwire fencing allowed a quick
and easy way to define property rights in land. But the national legislature
decided that it could do a better job of settling the lands and passed several
Homestead Acts, the first in 1862. Settlers could “claim 160 acres if they
resided on the land for five years and cultivated it.” (168). The cultivation
requirements led to premature investments in land while for many parts of the
West, the 160-acre allotment proved too small to make a living. Starvation,
broken legs, uncivilized behavior, and death all resulted from the attempt to
impose institutions top-down rather than simply waiting for them to develop on
their own from the bottom-up.
Given this dubious history, it makes sense that “capacity-building”
suffers problems, because it mimics the social-engineering of the past. The one
benefit that capacity-building might offer is an increased emphasis on creating
wealth instead of distributing it. Still, improving environmental quality and
human well-being through wealth creation would be better trumpeted with a heavy
note of caution against planned wealth creation and in support of the organic
development of the past.
Hollander does yeoman’s work convincing traditional environmentalists that
wealthier is healthier. For some, it is obvious that the poor will consider
endangered specie a moniker for lunch and pollution a means to a better life
until their lot improves. As Hollander seems to argue, this shouldn’t be
surprising when some are even willing to commit suicide to provide for their
families. He writes, “Though it would be an exaggeration to link the September
11, 2001, terrorist attacks directly with poverty, a link certainly exists
between the immense rich-poor gap and the festering disenchantment, humiliation,
and hopelessness that together breed terrorism.” (193).
But for others, the idea that wealthier is healthier remains an anathema.
Countering hostility to this idea, Hollander’s book proves quite useful. But
he is not ambitious enough in identifying how to make the poor rich. He
struggles with how much government development assistance can do and how much
progress must simply come from within the poorer nations. The tangible need to
do something, anything, seems to prevent him from asking whether doing something
might be worse than doing nothing. It is at this point where he needs to reread
his own penultimate chapter. The chapter’s title plays on the Hippocratic
creed: first, and above all, do no harm to the patient.
In August of 2002, the 10th Anniversary of the Rio Conference was held in
Johannesburg, South Africa. Many of the environmentalists who attended were
miffed that their vision of pressing problems took a backseat to third-world
development. But if Hollander and others preaching “wealthier is healthier”
are right, it may have been the first major step in the right direction. The Real Environmental Crisis:
Berkeley, CA: University of California Press 2003
Global
environmental conferences grabbed headlines throughout the 1990s, beginning with
the Rio Conference in 1992. Rio developed ambitious blueprints for international
forest policy and sustainable development while simultaneously birthing
conventions on climate change and biological diversity. While foreign policy
changed again with the attacks on the World Trade Center and the Pentagon in
2001, the environment still remains a concern for the global community.
J. Bishop Grewell is co-author of Ecological Agrarian: Agriculture’s First
Evolution in 10,000 Years from Purdue University Press and a research associate
with PERC, The Property
and Environment Research Center, in Bozeman, Montana.
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