Average home’s footprint extends well beyond land it sits upon

In days of yore, small towns often featured a central area where citizens could congregate and interact on a social and business level. A focal point for the community, this area was called the commons. Everyone was free to use it as much or as little as they liked.

The concept of the commons also has been linked to the resources that we all share: land, air, water and other aspects of the natural world that we depend on. The commons has greatest value when it is equitably shared and not exploited. Unfortunately, throughout the ages human society has fallen into a self-made trap; the overuse of the commons by some leads to its ultimate degradation at the expense of all.

For example, imagine a village surrounded by open land where there are plentiful green meadows and large tracts of forest. Each villager is able to graze a few cows or goats, cut some wood or hunt in the forest at will. There is no cost for this since the land is a form of commons that is available to all. The village has everything it needs for sustenance including food, fresh water and clean air.

Since there is no cost for using this land, one farmer decides to graze more animals than he needs so he can sell some excess and make a profit. Another starts a business as a woodcutter, creating more efficient ways to turn the forest into cash.

Once this process begins, it snowballs as others want to get their share of the pie. Eventually, this results in land that is overgrazed and prone to erosion; forests that recede, no longer providing habitat for deer and other game; and ultimately the demise of not only the commons, but the village itself. Wells dry up, dust storms are frequent and the air is no longer clear. This effect is known as “the tragedy of the commons.”

Yes, there was a temporary spurt of economic growth that at least some citizens were able to profit from. For a time, everything looked rosy. There was excitement about the future and everyone focused on growing the economy and attracting more residents, more visitors and more businesses to create more profit. Some who did well moved on since, as the fields and forests withered, the village became less attractive. In the end, those who were left suffered most.

This village was a victim of the over-expansion of its environmental footprint.

Everyone and everything has a footprint, be it large or small (see www.earthday.net/Footprint/ to calculate yours). Our modern society has exceeded the footprint that can be sustained by the planet. By definition, this can only be a temporary condition. What can we learn from this?

Let’s look at a typical home’s footprint on the commons. First, the land it occupies was once home to indigenous plants and animals. The wood most likely came from the Pacific Northwest where runoff from a clear-cut may have damaged a stream, affecting spawning salmon and other wildlife.

Natural gas may have been piped in from Canada or even from overseas via ship. Electricity was likely generated in a coal plant whose fuel may have been the former mountaintops of Appalachia or from the vast pits of the Powder River Basin in Wyoming. Using this energy expands our footprint across the globe, contributing to global warming and mercury contamination in the ocean.

Precipitation that fell on vast areas of the western slopes of the Rocky Mountains quenches our thirst and waters the yard, but not the river’s former delta that is now dry. Furniture may have been manufactured in China from rapidly disappearing rain forests in Asia. Everything from clothing to light switches to dishes and televisions contain plastic made from petroleum extracted from thousands of feet beneath the deserts of Saudi Arabia.

These are just a few examples of the footprint for a typical American home. Our precious commons is now indeed global in scale. The important lesson is that it’s time to reduce our footprint, to preserve our commons and return to equilibrium.

Gaylord Nelson, former United States senator from Wisconsin and founder of Earth Day, understood this lesson. He rejected the suggestion that economic development takes precedence over environmental protection, stating, “The economy is a wholly owned subsidiary of the environment, not the other way around.”

This is uncommon wisdom among current leaders in our country, but that doesn’t mean we cannot collectively choose a new path. A steady-state, ecological economy can provide a vibrant, rich community experience that matures and improves rather than just grows and degrades. This is not a simple task for our community. It requires deep consideration, openness and a willingness to change. Growth has boxed us in, exceeding natural limits on land, air, water and energy; thus it is only appropriate that we look out of the box for a means to restore the gift of the commons.

Steve Rypka is a green living consultant and president of GreenDream Enterprises, specializing in renewable energy, green building, alternative transportation and lifestyle choices for both residential and commercial clients. The company is committed to helping people live lighter on the planet. Rypka can be reached via e-mail at steve@greendream.biz. More information relating to this column is posted at www.greendream.biz.