as sediment pouuteci cree s ano rivers,
<br />filled in mill ponds and caused the closure
<br />of water-drven milis=on all but the largest
<br />streams.
<br />Sustainability is "6ftren'Ilk6ned to a three-
<br />legged stool, with the.legs representing
<br />social, economic and environmental
<br />systems and the seat representing
<br />the inescapable linkages among these
<br />systems.' Surely, the changes for the
<br />,Robs,ns and their contemporaries, the
<br />inexorable downward spiral of dependence
<br />on slavery, the diminished production
<br />and polluted waterways, and the ever
<br />increasing fragility of the economic
<br />validate this tripartite metaphor.
<br />The Civil War and the Reconstruction
<br />that followed brought new changes to the
<br />land and inaugurated a period of regional
<br />economic depression that would extend
<br />up to World War II. The Robson land, like
<br />that of so many neighbors, was put into
<br />foreclosure. Although tenant farming and
<br />sharecropping continued in some places,
<br />much land was simply abandoned.
<br />Most of the land along the Wooden
<br />Bridge trail was abandoned between 1870
<br />and 1910, and that fallow succession was
<br />repeated once again. Old field weeds were
<br />soon replaced with dog -hair thickets of
<br />pines. Through time, these pine thickets
<br />thinned to respectable forests. When Duke
<br />Forest was formally established in 1931,
<br />pine stands were about 40 to 60 years old
<br />,,and broadleaved trees —oaks, sweetgums,
<br />n aples and hickories —were prominent
<br />beneath them.
<br />The waters of New Hope Creek that
<br />flowed beneath the Wooden Bridge in
<br />1870 were red with sediment, and flash
<br />floods were common. But within a couple
<br />decades, the roots of regrowing forest
<br />trees and shrubs stabilized fragile soils
<br />and mitigated flows. Today, at least at
<br />that location, New Hope Creek runs clear
<br />and supports a diverse array of aquatic
<br />life. The fact that ecosystem change has
<br />repaired some of the impacts of those
<br />many years of unsustainable land use is
<br />reason for hope; but it is also true that no
<br />vestige of old- growth forest remains and
<br />that it will take many more decades, even
<br />centuries, to restore soils to their former
<br />productivity.
<br />DU,KENVIRONMENT 18
<br />;10 `0
<br />//i Om
<br />0
<br />,
<br />"change continues on this
<br />i 1 "
<br />,""1" � Once rurol laihd i$ „rapidly
<br />b ,pfnJ,n`4urban Forest is being replaced
<br />by ompldx, imperljious surfaces like roof
<br />tops, "parking; lots and roads that greatly
<br />alt°o'r local climate, the quality, quantity
<br />and timing of water flows, and wildlife
<br />habitat. Is all of this change sustainable?
<br />The word "sustainability" is tricky. "To
<br />sustain” is defined in many dictionaries
<br />as "to keep in existence, to maintain." To
<br />some this implies an idealistic sustainable
<br />endpoint —a destination. But if history
<br />tells us anything, it is that sustainability
<br />is a journey, not a destination, and that
<br />journey always occurs in the context of
<br />three kinds of change.
<br />First, the world is changing. The
<br />capacity for ecosystems to change is
<br />essential to their persistence. Forested
<br />landscapes and watersheds are
<br />constantly being disturbed and constantly
<br />undergoing change. Over the long term,
<br />change is essential to adaptation and
<br />survival.
<br />Second, we are changing. Each
<br />generation of human beings brings
<br />new technologies and values to the
<br />land. My interests and values are very
<br />different from those of my parents and
<br />grandparents, and the interests and values
<br />of my children and grandchildren are no
<br />less different from mine. And third, we
<br />are changing the world. This has always
<br />been true, but today there are more
<br />than 7 billion of us, and our individual
<br />effects on Earth's ecosystems are
<br />disproportionately magnified by the power
<br />of the technologies we employ to garner
<br />the things we need or think we need.
<br />We are today agents of unprecedented
<br />change. And we are hopeful that nature's
<br />change processes will mitigate our impacts,
<br />too. But history provides no guarantee that
<br />that will be the case. Our human population
<br />has increased over eightfold since the
<br />Robsons abandoned their land, and each
<br />of us individually consumes 10 times more
<br />energy and resources than did the Robsons
<br />and their peers. Furthermore, many of our
<br />insults to our planet's ecosystems have no
<br />precedent in either historic or prehistoric
<br />times.
<br />Sustainability, I would argue, is an
<br />inherently anthropocentric concept.
<br />For millions and millions of years,
<br />Earth's myriad ecosystems functioned
<br />wonderfully in our absence. It may be
<br />humbling, but it is good to remember
<br />that we are not an essential element
<br />to any of Earth's ecosystems. No other
<br />single organism has changed our planet
<br />to the extent that we have. But, were
<br />we to disappear tomorrow, ecosystems
<br />would continue to change and life would
<br />continue to evolve. Eventually, our portion
<br />of Earth's history would be reduced to a
<br />thin, albeit messy, layer in its geologic
<br />strata.
<br />I have a favorite Gary Larson cartoon.
<br />A stegosaurus stands at a lectern before
<br />an audience of other dinosaurs and says,
<br />"Friends the picture is bleak; climates
<br />are changing, mammals are on the rise,
<br />and here we sit with brains the size
<br />of a walnut." Dinosaurs are, unfairly I
<br />think, often depicted as the exemplar of
<br />unsustainability — unable to adapt, they
<br />were a cul de sac in the history of life.
<br />But, these remarkable beasts dominated
<br />Earth's ecosystems for a remarkable span
<br />of time -150 million years.
<br />Humankind has been around for about
<br />1 /1,000th of that amount of time, yet
<br />many seem to think that the entire history
<br />of life that preceded us occurred solely Z
<br />for our benefit. That view has encouraged
<br />the widespread belief that we cannot
<br />severely damage Earth's capacity to
<br />sustain us or our children. But ttv j if ory
<br />of our interactions: with the land teiI's us
<br />We are fond of calling attention to two
<br />of
<br />human features, inteilrgence ars, ;-
<br />awareness, that set us apart from all the
<br />rest of creation; we have, afterail, brains
<br />the size of a grapefruit. We are hopeful
<br />that these traits will lead us on a more
<br />sustainable path, although there is not
<br />much evidence in our history to support
<br />that hope. But I believe our future will
<br />hinge much more on two other traits —the
<br />empathy to care for the well-being of
<br />others living now and in the future, and
<br />the humility to understand our proper
<br />place in the world and our dependence on
<br />the health and diversity of its ecosystems.
<br />Norman L. Christensen is founding de
<br />the Nicholas School and professor eme .
<br />in the Division of Environmental Sciet
<br />and Policy.
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