Dan Ashe - March 2013 plenary speech

Good morning, everybody! Jim Sterba and I shared a morning on the Diane Rehm Radio Show on NPR, and so now we're standing here today to share a morning with you, so I'm beginning to think that I'm becoming the Ed McMahon to Jim Sterba's Johnny Carson. But Jim's thoughtful analysis illustrates how modern American society doesn’t always appreciate the history of conservation success. And what I’d like to do this morning is talk to you about the future, and what that holds for us. About the immensity of challenge that lays in front of us. And how we need to make wild life conservation relevant and important to a rapidly growing and changing society. So, first, let’s look at a piece of the challenge that we face. Off Camera (What's better? Faster or slower? Faster! Who thinks more is better than less? What's better, doing two things at once or just one? Two!) Alright, Faster vs. Slower; More vs. Less; Two things vs. One thing. I think you get the idea. So, let’s do a little role play here. I’ll ask the question. You give the answer. Right, Jim Martin? What’s better, a long-wait or a short-wait? Short- wait! Exactly ….. Waiting a short-time is better. Right? Oh, wait a minute, conservation is about the long-term. Damn! Mollie Beattie was the first Director I worked for in the United States Fish and Wildlife Service. She said, “There’s only one true conflict, and that’s between short-term and long-term thinking.” So, friends, that’s the root of the challenge facing our community today. We live in a world where fast is better than slow; where more is better than less; where two are better than one; and where short-term thinking is more rewarding. This probably has always been so. But today, the stakes seem so much higher. The consequences seem more enduring. And long-term thinking seems so challenging. The universe is now thought to be 13.8 billion years old, billion years old. But it wasn’t until around the year 1800, when world population hit 1 billion people, so it took all of those 13.8 billion years to get to that point. And now, look at how fast we’ve been growing since. 1905 – Theodore Roosevelt began his first term as President, and the U.S. Forest Service was founded – 2 billion. 1929 – the year my father was born – 3 billion people. 1958 – two years after I was born – 4 billion people. 1974 – the year I graduated high school – 5 billion people. 1995 – the year I joined the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service – 6 billion people. 2012 – 7 months after I began my tenure as U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service Director --7 billion people. By the middle of the century, 2050, we'll be sharing this planet with 9 billion others – if we’re lucky. If we're not lucky, 11 billion others. And yes, most of this growth will occur in Asia and Africa, but this is not an “other world” phenomenon. The good old “U.S. of A” is the world’s 3rd most populous country, behind China and India. Our 315 million people will be more than 400 million by the middle of the century. And all of these new people – especially those in Asia and Africa – will aspire to be more like us; with greater access to the things that produce quality of life: electricity and education; affordable healthcare, food and housing; reliable and safe transportation. And they should have these things. And as they aspire to get them they will think faster is better than slower; more is better than less; two is better than one. And a short-wait is better than a long-wait. More people; more affluence. That’s what the future holds. So, what does this mean for our work? No matter how you slice it, we are going to ask more of the planet: More food; more fiber; more fuel; more fresh water. And as we occupy more of the world’s ecological space, it means less will be available for the rest of what we call “biodiversity.” Wish it were not so, but it is that simple. Less will be available for everything else. And we need to prepare ourselves and our great institutions to make hard choices. The by-products of this growth in human population and affluence are familiar to all of us: Habitat destruction and fragmentation; soil erosion; water pollution and scarcity; species invasion; wildlife disease; and now, a changing climate system. We don’t have to look far to see the future. We can see the impact of ethanol subsidies and $8 per bushel corn, today, in the crisis that is unfolding in the prairie grasslands and wetlands of the Dakotas. And to meet the growing demands of the mid-century population, agricultural experts are predicting we need to increase production of food and fiber by 70% from today’s levels. We can see the future scale and pace of global trade, reflected in a new generation of what we're calling “Post-Panamax” container vessel. These immense vessels will hold 10,000 – 12,000 shipping containers, moving massive volumes of commodities, and along with them, biological contaminants like the fungi that today are threatening to decimate North American bat and amphibian populations. Or hiding the contraband that is fueling a modern poaching crisis in Africa. This will be the increasing legacy of a world where fast is better than slow; where more is better than less; where two is better than one; where a short-wait is better than a long-wait. So, what does this mean for our work? It means that we cannot expect that tomorrow’s world will have all of today’s wild life, in all of today’s diversity and abundance, and in all of today’s places. It means that we will have to make active choices. We must decide what will come along for the ride; in what abundance and diversity; and in what places. It means that we'll have to make active choices, we must decide what wild life will come along for the ride with us, in what abundance and diversity, and in what places. And the more challenging decision; what will not. This doesn’t mean we are resigned to species extinction. But it does means that we must realize, that in many cases, we may not be able to prevent it. My intention is for the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service to be an organization that makes choices. We will do this by entering discussions with partners – particularly our state fish and wildlife agency partners – to select and pursue shared objectives. Most commonly, these will be expressed as species-based objectives – allowing us to more strategically identify and target work to conserve habitat and ecological function. Hopefully, you have heard us speak about “Strategic Habitat Conservation,” and more recently, about “Surrogate Species.” I don’t want my remarks today to focus on how we will do this. Yes, "how" is important; it is technically challenging; it has weaknesses. But not making choices; not setting priorities; not focusing our work is, in my view, irresponsible. The most important thing to say about how we will do this, is to say we will do it in league with our partners, particularly our state partners, who share with us the responsibility for wild life management. The more important thing this morning is spending a few minutes explaining why we’re doing this. And there are really three reasons. First it’s about setting priorities. Making sure that we are working on what is most important – for the long-term. Second, it’s about success, because where we have done this in the past, and where we are doing it today, we are successful. Third, it’s about relevance to a changing American society. On setting priorities, I think we often approach conservation as an artist painting a landscape. Biodiversity, and all the habitat forms it occupies, are a limitless palette with which to paint. And we want to paint with all of those colors. But in his book, “Steal Like An Artist,” Austin Kleon tells us, “Creativity is Subtraction.” “Creativity is Subtraction.” That nothing is more paralyzing than the idea of limitless possibilities. By choosing surrogate species, and imposing constraints upon ourselves, we will unlock creativity. Regarding success, think of what we have accomplished with waterfowl conservation. Millions of acres conserved; billions of dollars; hundreds of partners working together. The possible palette there is about 40-odd species of hunted waterfowl, but it was one color in the palette – the hen mallard who nests in the prairie potholes of North America – who we first painted. She unlocked our creativity, and put us on a path to success. Not just for waterfowl, but for thousands of other species who depend on the same habitat. Think of what we are doing today, with Greater Sage Grouse. To keep this bird off the endangered species list, we are moving those figurative mountains. The Natural Resource Conservation Service has spent $140 million over the past three years, its partners have brought another $70 million to the table. The Bureau of Land Management is amending resource management plans in 68 planning units, and the U.S. Forest Service in two dozen others. All 11 range states are engaged, and the Western Association of Fish and Wildlife Agencies, and the Western Governors Association are leading these efforts. Great industries are coming to us – all of us. They want to know what they can do. We need to be able to tell them. In the end, we will drive conservation in millions of acres across the western landscape and we will conserve this species – along with several hundred others who use the same habitat – and we will preserve ways-of-life that have been a part of the west for centuries. The same thing is happening for the Lesser Prairie Chicken; the same has happened for the Grizzly Bear; the Manatee; the Atlantic Striped Bass; and dozens of others. When we make choices; when we “subtract,” we free ourselves to do our most creative work. It’s a bit counter-intuitive, but it works. And it must work, because we compete in marketplace, with people who have done their subtraction; They have unified goals. They're called acre-feet; board feet; AUMs; bushels; barrels; and megawatts. If we do the same; if we can choose a limited palette of surrogate species to focus our work, then we will succeed. Why? Well, that brings us to the issue of relevance. America is changing as Jim Sterba reminds us; diversifying; urbanizing; gentrifying; globalizing. But there is one certainty. The America of tomorrow will be different from the one we know today. And its people will be increasingly de-natured and disconnected from the outdoors. This reality presents us with many challenges. But in this cloud of disconnection I believe there is a silver lining. As people are more disconnected from nature, they seem more-and-more fascinated with wild life. Maybe, because they find it increasingly mysterious. But, whatever the reason, it’s an opportunity for us to make conservation relevant for them. If we choose the right targets, then I believe, we will get their support. Addition and abstraction are our enemies. Subtraction and relevance are our allies. That’s why the Fish and Wildlife Service is working with great partners like the Association of Fish and Wildlife Agencies to identify species that can serve as surrogates for the ecosystems that support them and many other species. And in the process, I believe we are defining what Arizona’s Larry Voyles has called a “21st Century Conservation System.” Change is difficult; but this requires not just tolerance of change, but it requires that we embrace change. Speed is essential; and that requires trust that quite frankly is lacking in our community today. We need to change that. Scientific credibility is our foundation. This community and its commitment to scientific excellence nurtured Aldo Leopold and Rachel Carson. Where are the scientific institutions that will create a next generation of great conservation philosopher? We need to build them. Where is the urgency and unity that created successes like the Pittman-Robertson Act and the Endangered Species Act? My goodness, today we can’t even get the Congress to raise the Duck Stamp price in the face of a prairie crisis. We need to pass a Sportsmen’s Act. If we can see past the fog of short-term problems, like “sequestration”; if we can form powerful and shared objectives, built around solid science; if we can build trust; if we can invigorate a land and water conservation fund to help drive adaptation to climate change and other ecological stressors; if we can invest in leadership and leaders; then we will make conservation relevant to a changing America, and we will accomplish great things. I hope so, because by 2050, the world is going to need to meet the demands of 9-11 billion people. People who think fast beats slow; more beats less; two beats one; and a short-wait is better than a long-wait. And Mollie Beattie got it right. The only true conflict is between short-term and long-term thinking. So, here’s to playing the long game. Thank You very much! [applause]