This is part of a series on misinformation both locally and nationally that led me to write Systems out of Balance.
In the summer of 2003 my family went on our most memorable vacation. We joined the Goshen UCC church on a workcamp mission trip to the Dominican Republic. This may not sound like much of a family vacation, but my oldest daughter, Charissa, commented afterwards that she would rather go on that type of “vacation” than go to Disneyworld.
We were prepared ahead of time for some of the depressing sights we would see in Los Alchirhizzos: corrugated shacks, raw sewage flowing down rutted dirt roads, farm-type animals roaming among the streets and the shacks, huge waiting lines at hospital clinics. What caught me by surprise were the signs of a “successful” global economy: power lines running everywhere, radio and/or television blaring from those dilapidated shacks, vehicles driving down the rutted dirt roads, apparel that you could expect to find at Wal-Mart. Indeed, the folks in Los Alchirhizzos were well off compared to the Haitian village within the borders of the Dominican Republic that we visited. That Haitian village was formed by people escaping from still worse conditions in the neighboring country of Haiti.
There was a slight recession in the United States in 2003 that had more severe impacts on the Dominican Republic. When IBM has a downturn there are slight ripple effects throughout the diverse U. S. economy, but that same company dominates the DR economy. That is the way it is with multinational corporations. You would have to have a collapse in the financial sector to have the same impact on the United States that just a downturn of one multinational corporation has on one of these developing countries.
That is the global economy for you. It’s an economy that provides the “have nots” with mass-produced stuff from multinational corporations, though unable locally to provide the essential stuff for well-being; an economy where the benefits are reaped disproportionately by developed countries and the costs fall disproportionately to the developing countries. Early foragers were able to maintain better sanitation, shelter and even health care than modern man in the wrong country of the global economy, but those poor schleps had to make do without television.
My investigation into why we were so politically gullible broadened into economics. Once again I was jarred by my friend and esteemed cancer researcher, the one I now owed a pizza, when he declared in an email that no country has done so much for the world ever as the United States. I know that is a common belief in this country. I won’t refute that belief here, though I encourage you to get a copy of Systems out of Balance when it soon comes out (it really is coming out soon, I promise). I will only say that such a belief, whether right or wrong, is not formed by establishing well-thought out empirical criteria of both pros and cons, and following that up with the due diligence of research. Our belief in ourselves as an overwhelming force of good in the world is formed by dogmatic arrogance, fixed beliefs that will not be affected by any evidence to the contrary.
Dogmatic arrogance led our country to strong-arm the United Nations, other countries and weapons inspectors into seeing things our way. Arrogance led our administration to predict our soldiers would be greeted by flowers when we conquered Iraq. Arrogance led our administration to disband the Iraqi army once we were in control. Arrogance led the administration to think we could “shock and awe” opponents into submission. Arrogance led us to secure the oil ministry immediately, while national treasures and weapon dumps were being looted. All mistakes surrounding the invasion of Iraq can be traced to some form of dogmatic arrogance in our abilities and our mission, which boils down simply to believing that “might makes right.”
Which brings me once again to the Yale Farm Golf Course application. Much appeared to be going right for their cause. Sure, the Norfolk Inlands/Wetlands commission attached over 100 conditions to their approval, but the applicants had deep pockets, as they were quick to point out. The fine that any “Oops!” moment in the construction of the golf course would incur could easily be absorbed by the applicants.
The developers also boasted at how thorough and exhaustive their applications to the commissions were. The applications were of a thickness that would be discouraging for a volunteer commission member to wade through, much like the USA PATRIOT Act was of a thickness that prevented most of our elected officials from reading the entire document before approving it. Omission as a general tactic of misinformation can be done as well by obscuring information in complexity almost as well as actually hiding the information. This is a factor in why our bills, laws and tax codes grow increasingly long and complex.
My only contact with Roland Betts was much different than with his project manager, David Tewksbury. Mr. Tewksbury sought me out on his own initiative and I thought he was somewhat congenial. I was even willing to cross-examine myself a bit because of his gesture, though my doubts quickly dissipated when the developers omitted the housing component from their application.
When I first came near Roland Betts, as he sat in the front row of a public hearing, I offered him a handshake by way of introductory greeting. He refused to shake my hand. Mind you, I had yet to present anything damaging to their development efforts. The town commissions were approving their applications. I had even commented that I thought a golf course could be constructed on 780 acres of land without infringing on important resources. Perhaps because I was more focused on misinformation than environmental impacts I had gotten under his skin, or perhaps only residents of towns involved in decision-making was worth his consideration. As a lifelong resident of a rural town I was unsure what to do when my handshake was being refused, that being a first for me, but the wife of Betts came to the rescue by graciously extending her hand in greeting. They say opposites attract.
I learned more about the arrogance of the developers through some of their consultants. A botanist they hired to do a field assessment confided to me that they were dictating where he could go on the property and he felt he was working for the wrong side. One of the renowned experts in conservation development hired to prove their serious intent, Randall Arendt, mysteriously disappeared from mention once the hearings in Norfolk were underway. In a private conversation Randall informed me that the applicants were not really interested in his ideas and he demanded his name be removed from being connected to their project. Randall was to the Yale Farm developers as the United Nations was to the Bush II administration, an arrogant use of a figurehead to legitimize their own plans, with the key difference being that Randall had more backbone.
In 2003 an article in The New Yorker, “The Have and the Haves,” came out about the Yale Farm Golf Course. The portrayal of the contentious nature of the application was one of a gentrified battle between the developers with lots of resources, and the NIMBY intervenors, also with lots of resources. The writer, Mark Singer, obviously had not done much research into the “have nots” of Norfolk, the many Barbara Mulvilles and the John Funchions that supported the application, or the many Katie Atkinsons and Chris Petersons that opposed it. At the same time that an attorney for the applicants was declaring to a town commission that “there may be 61 houses in the future or there may be zero,” Betts confessed in the article that housing definitely was in the plans, though they could adjust the number of houses to accommodate some concerns.
Up until the fall of 2003 HVA mainly had collaborated with the Coalition of Sound Growth intervenors. That fall the Canaan Conservation Coalition approached me to make a map placing Yale Farm in the regional context of protected and pristine areas surrounding the property. During the discussion for the map I mentioned how I made maps for the natural resource inventories of towns. I was asked to do the same for the Yale Farm Golf Course. Moreover, HVA would be paid for this service. This opened the door for increased investments of my time that paid dividends down the road.
The inventory I produced was well-regarded by opponents of the golf course, and also by colleagues in the natural resources field, such as the Northwest Conservation District. In truth, I do not believe it had much impact on the Planning and Zoning Commission of Norfolk. The developers made a point of calling the inventory “an impressive academic exercise” but “irrelevant.” Whether they knew it or not they were exploiting one of my own self-deprecating fears of alienating people as an aloof, intimidating nerd. Yet the process of doing the inventory uncovered the key to how they were misinforming the public. Opening that door would occur only after all four town commissions gave their approvals for the Yale Farm Golf Course.
