THE WATER THAT QUENCHES
THIRSTS in Queens and bubbles into bathtubs in Brooklyn begins
about 125 miles north in a forest in the Catskill Mountains.
It flows down distant hills through pastures and farmlands and
eventually into giant aqueducts serving 9 million people with
1.3 billion gallons daily. Because it flows directly from the
ground through reservoirs to the tap, this water—long regarded
as the champagne of city drinking supplies—comes from what's
often called the largest "unfiltered" system in the nation.
But
that's not strictly true. Water percolating through the
Catskills is filtered naturally—for free. Beneath the forest,
fine roots and microorganisms break down contaminants. In
streams, plants absorb nutrients from fertilizer and manure.
And in meadows, wetlands filter nutrients while breaking down
heavy metals.
New York
City discovered how
valuable these services were 15 years ago when a combination
of unbridled development and failing septic systems in the
Catskills began degrading the quality of the water that served
Queens, Brooklyn and the
other boroughs. By 1992, the U.S. Environmental Protection
Agency (EPA) warned that unless water quality improved, it
would require the city to build a filtration plant, estimated
to cost between $6 and $8 billion and between $350 and $400
million a year to operate.
Instead, the
city rolled the dice with nature in a historic experiment.
Rather than building a filtration plant, officials decided to
restore the health of the Catskills watershed, so it would do
the job naturally.
What's
this ecosystem worth to the city of New
York? So far, $1.3 billion. That's what
the city has committed to build sewage treatment plants
upstate and to protect the watershed through a variety of
incentive programs and land purchases. It's a lot of money.
But it's a fraction of the cost of the filtration plant—a
plant, city officials note, that wouldn't work as tirelessly
or efficiently as nature.
"It was
a stunning thing for the New
York City council to think maybe we should invest
in natural capital," says Stanford University researcher
Gretchen Daily. Daily is one of a growing number of
academics—some from economics, some from ecology—who are
putting dollar figures on the services that ecosystems
provide. She and other "ecological economists" look not only
at nature's products—food, shelter, raw materials—but at
benefits such as clean water, clean air, flood control and
storm mitigation, irreplaceable services that have been taken
for granted throughout history. "Much of Mother Nature's labor
has enormous and obvious value, which has failed to win
respect in the marketplace until recently," Daily writes in
the book The New Economy of Nature: The Quest to Make
Conservation Profitable.
Ecological
economist Geoffrey Heal, a professor of public policy and
business responsibility at Columbia University, became
interested in the field as an economist who was concerned
about the environment. "The idea of ecosystem services is an
interesting framework for thinking why the environment
matters," says Heal, author of Nature and the Marketplace:
Capturing the Value of Ecosystem Services. "The
traditional argument for environmental conservation had been
essentially aesthetic or ethical. It was beautiful or a moral
responsibility. But there are powerful economic reasons for
keeping things intact as well."
Daily
notes that beyond providing clean water, the Catskills
ecosystem has value for its beauty, as wildlife habitat and
for recreation, particularly trout fishing. Such values are
not inconsequential. While no one has assessed the total worth
of the watershed, even a partial look reveals that habitat and
wildlife are powerful economic engines.
Restored habitat
for trout and other game fish, for example, attracts
fishermen, and angling is big business in this state.
According to a report by the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service
(FWS), more than 1.5 million people fished in New
York during 2001, yielding an economic
benefit to the state of more than $2 billion and generating
the equivalent of 17,468 full-time jobs and more than $164
million in state, federal, sales and motor fuel taxes. Though
not as easily measured, individual Catskills species also have
value. Beavers, for instance, create wetlands that are vital
to filtering water and to biodiversity.
Ecological
economists maintain that ecosystems are capital assets that,
if managed well, provide a stream of benefits just as any
investment does. The FWS report, for example, notes that 66
million Americans spent more than $38 billion in 2001
observing, feeding or photographing wildlife. Those
expenditures resulted in more than a million jobs with total
wages and salaries of $27.8 billion. The analysis found that
birders alone spent an estimated $32 billion on wildlife
watching that year, generating $85 billion of economic
benefits. In Yellowstone National Park, the
reintroduction of gray wolves that began in 1995 has already
increased revenues in surrounding communities by $10 million a
year, with total benefits projected to reach $23 million
annually as more visitors come to catch a glimpse of these
charismatic predators.
When it
comes to water quality, EPA projects that the
United
States will have to spend
$140 billion over the next 20 years to maintain minimum
required standards for drinking water quality. No wonder,
then, that 140 U.S. cities have studied using
an approach similar to New York's. Under that
agreement, finalized in 1997, the city promised to pay
farmers, landowners and businesses that abided by restrictions
designed to protect the watershed. (The city owns less than 8
percent of the land in the 2,000-square-mile watershed; the
vast majority is in private hands.) "In the case of the
Catskills, it was a matter of coming up with a way to reward
the stewards of the natural asset for something they had been
providing for free," Daily says. "As soon as they got paid
even a little bit, they were much happier and inclined to go
about their stewardship." There's no guarantee this experiment
will work, of course; it may be another decade before the city
finds out.
Elsewhere, other
governing bodies are also recognizing the value of ecosystem
services. The U.S. Army Corps of Engineers, for example,
bought 8,500 acres of wetlands along Massachusetts' Charles River for flood control. The
land cost $10 million, a tenth of the $100 million the Corps
estimated it would take to build the dam and levee originally
proposed. To fight floods in Napa, California, county officials spent $250
million to reconnect the Napa River to its historical
floodplains, allowing the river to meander as it once did. The
cost was a fraction of the estimated $1.6 billion that would
have been needed to repair flood damage over the next century
without the project. Within a year, notes Daily, flood
insurance rates in the county dropped 20 percent and real
estate prices rose 20 percent, thanks to the flood protection
now promised by nature.
Even
insects supply vital ecosystem services. More than 218,000 of
the world's 250,000 flowering plants, including 70 percent of
all species of food plants, rely on pollinators for
reproduction—and more than 100,000 of these pollinators are
invertebrates, including bees, moths, butterflies, beetles and
flies. Another 1,000 or more vertebrate species, including
birds, mammals and reptiles, also pollinate plants. According
to University of Arizona entomologist
Stephen Buchmann, author of The Forgotten Pollinators, one of
every three bites of food we eat comes courtesy of a
pollinator.
A
Cornell
University study
estimated the value of pollination by honeybees in the
United
States alone at $14.6 billion
in 2000. Yet honeybee populations are dropping everywhere, as
much as 25 percent since 1990, according to one study. Now
many farms and orchards are paying to have the bees shipped
in.
Today's
interest in assigning dollar values to pollination and other
ecosystem services was spawned by publication of a
controversial 1997 report in Nature that estimated the
total global contribution of ecosystems to be $33 trillion or
more each year—roughly double the combined gross national
product of all countries in the world. The study became a
lightning rod. Detractors scoffed at the idea that one could
put a dollar value on something people weren't willing to
purchase. One report by researchers at the University of
Maryland, Bowden College and Duke University called the
estimate "absurd," noting that if taken literally, the figure
suggests that a family earning $30,000 annually would pay
$40,000 annually for ecosystem protection.
Other
researchers, including Daily and Heal, charged that the $33
trillion figure greatly underestimates nature's value. "If you
believe, as I do, that ecosystem services are necessary for
human survival, they're invaluable really," Heal says. "We
would pay anything we could pay."
Daily
doesn't believe the absolute value of an ecosystem can ever be
measured. Heal agrees, yet both scientists say that pricing
ecosystem services is an important tool for making decisions
about nature—and for making the case for conservation.
"Valuation is just one step in the broader politics of
decision making," she says. "We need to be creative and
innovative in changing social institutions so we are aligning
economic forces with conservation."
Indeed,
as dollar values for nature's services become available,
environmentalists increasingly use them to bolster arguments
for conservation. One high-profile example is the contentious
dispute over whether to tear down four dams on the lower Snake
River in southeastern Washington to restore salmon
habitat, and thus the region's lucrative salmon fishery. Ed
Whitelaw, a professor of economics at the University
of Oregon, notes that
estimates of the economic impact of breaching the dams range
from $300 million in net costs to $1.3 billion in net
benefits, largely due to the wide range of projections about
recreational spending.
A 2002
report by the respected, nonprofit think-tank RAND Corporation
concluded the dams could be breached without hurting economic
growth and employment. Energy lost as a result of the breaches
could be replaced with more efficient sources, including
natural gas, resulting in 15,000 new jobs. Further, the report
noted that recreation, retail, restaurants and real estate
would experience a marked growth. Recreational activities
alone would increase by an estimated $230 million over 20
years.
There's
no question that returning the salmon runs would have a major
impact on the region. When favorable ocean conditions
increased the runs in 2001, Idaho's Department of Fish
and Game estimated the salmon season that year alone generated
more than $90 million of revenue in the state, most of it in
rural communities that badly needed the funds.
"Some
people think it sounds crass to put a price tag on something
that's invaluable, careening down the slippery slope of the
market economy," says Daily. "In fact, the idea is to do
something elegant but tricky: to finesse the economic system,
the system that drives so much of our individual and
collective behavior, so that without even thinking it makes
natural sense to invest in and protect our natural assets, our
ecosystem capital."
What
Daily and other ecological economists want is to insinuate
consideration of ecosystem services into daily decision
making, whether it takes the form of financial incentive or
penalty. "At a practical level, decisions are made at the
margin, not at the 'should we sterilize the Earth' level," she
says. "It's in all the little decisions—whether to farm here
or leave a few trees, whether to build the shopping mall there
or leave the wetland, whether to buy an SUV or a Prius—that
ecosystem service values need to be incorporated."
Heal
agrees. "Although ecosystem services have been with us for
millennia," he says, "the scale of human activity is now
sufficiently great that we can no longer take their
continuation for granted."
Virginia journalist Jim
Morrison wrote about polar bears and global warming in the
February/March 2004 issue.