ROANOKE TIMES

                         Roanoke Times
                 Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.

DATE: SATURDAY, March 4, 1994                   TAG: 9403050001
SECTION: EDITORIAL                    PAGE: A-11   EDITION: METRO 
SOURCE: By EDWARD T. WALTERS
DATELINE:                                 LENGTH: Long


VIRGINIA NEEDS A NEW DEAL FOR THE ENVIRONMENT

ONE OF the basic planks in Gov. George Allen's political platform has been to give government back to the people. Most observers in Richmond regard this promise to involve the electorate directly in the running of the state's affairs as a fine bit of campaign rhetoric, but something that would be impracticable, if not impossible, to implement in any meaningful way.

There could, however, be one exception. A big exception. In a critical area.

And it could be accomplished by using an organization that already exists. A grassroots organization that could, indeed, assume and effectively discharge many of the responsibilities now jealously guarded in Richmond. With a bit of imagination and skillful tailoring, this organization could be used by Allen and his secretary of natural resources, Becky Norton Dunlop, as a conduit for delegating more authority and responsibility to the local level for dealing with increasingly critical issues - environmental issues.

This organization, which has been around since the late 1930s, was designed, ironically, by the architects of the New Deal. It is a heritage from the era of the Depression and the dust bowl. It is a national network of about 3,000 operating units. Forty-five of those units, incorporating all counties and 98.5 percent of the state's territory, are in Virginia.

These 45 units are manned and directed by locally elected officials. They are the directors of the local soil and water conservation districts, an organization that remains little known and something of a mystery even to those voters who conscientiously elect a pair of these "conservation directors" every three years.

The original idea, during those dust-bowl days, was to organize local groups of farmers and community leaders to work closely with the recently (1935) created Soil Conservation Service of the U.S. Department of Agriculture. In addition to preaching, those leaders were to spread, both by example and neighborly cooperation, the gospel of conservation.

Encouraged by Washington, the individual states subsequently passed the legislation needed for setting up these hybrid units of government. Virginia signed up in 1938. A year later, some 88 million acres were included under the protective umbrellas of these conservation districts; today the national total is more than 2 billion acres.

The enabling legislation in Virginia gave its soil and water conservation districts some strong tools to bring an end to eroded farmland and muddy streams. Tools such as the power of eminent domain. In practice, however, the districts never resorted to such drastic measures. No land, no matter how badly treated, was ever appropriated by a conservation district in Virginia. The power of persuasion and education have been the primary tools for accomplishing conservation goals.

In recent years, the districts' responsibilities have broadened as a result of developments such as the Chesapeake Bay program and state-mandated erosion, and sediment-control ordinances. And with these added duties have come funding for the hiring of technical personnel coupled with a degree of operational independence. No longer (at least for the moment) do the districts with their unsalaried directors have to rely upon the Soil Conservation Service or the Extension Service to do their work. The districts have become increasingly professional. And increasingly effective.

Partially as a result of this growing professionalism, there are some who believe that the districts could - and should - play an expanded and more diverse role in Virginia's environmental affairs. A role that would fit in nicely with Gov. Allen's expressed views on how he wants his administration to do its job.

For the districts to assume this new role, there must be changes. First, there would be a new charter - a broader mandate - for the districts. No longer would they be concerned primarily with soil and water problems, with agricultural or forestry practices or erosion and sedimentation plans. With this new mandate, the districts would have a primary concern with all the conservation and environmental issues within the commonwealth.

This new mandate would mean the districts would work closely not only with traditional collaborators, such as the Soil Conservation Service, the Department of Forestry, the Extension Service and the Department of Conservation and Recreation, but also with agencies such as the Department of Environmental Quality, the Department of Game and Inland Fisheries and even federal agencies like the Corps of Engineers and the Environmental Protection Agency. By design, the conservation district would become the operating focus for any agency - state, federal or local - involved with environmental matters within each district's geographical boundaries.

By using the organizational framework of the districts, Allen could effect a radical decentralization of the environmental bureaucracy within Virginia. Professional personnel (and funding) would be moved from Richmond to the districts - to the grass roots. The districts, in turn, would become multidisciplinary with a multiple-agency but unified staff on board. Modern communications will enable technical and agency personnel to maintain daily contact with their regional headquarters while living and working in the field. Living and working, that is, where the problems are. Which really means working more efficiently, more effectively.

With their new mandate and personnel, the districts would become to an even greater degree the locus of environmental resources and knowledge at the local level. County and city governments, as well as individual citizens, would look first to the districts for advice and help with environmental questions. How much easier for the landowner in Pounding Mill to visit North Tazewell to talk about an eroding stream bank than to telephone Richmond.

There would have to be other changes, painful for some. There would have to be room for other voices to be heard, voices that could express (and ears that would listen to) the views of interested individuals and groups such as the Izaak Walton League, Trout Unlimited, the Nature Conservancy and the Sierra Club. The districts should provide a much-needed forum for discussion, debate, education and - eventually - consensus and action on environmental issues.

The growing body of environmental laws, rules, regulations and ordinances is a confusing mass of arcane and scientific legalese for most of the public. Many remain ignorant of these relatively new laws, some of which are sending people to jail. These are other reasons for decentralizing the environmental bureaucracy: to better educate the public about the existence and, more importantly, the rationale for these laws; gauge public reaction; get public cooperation; and implement the policies designed to protect all of us and our environment.

It's an unlikely trio: a conservative Republican governor (who seldom, if ever, mentioned the environment during his campaign) with his populist political philosophy; his environmental watchdog, a protege of the infamous (in the eyes of environmentalists) James Watt; and a New Deal grassroots organization. But this trio could, by combining forces to implement one of the governor's political promises, bring about a basic organizational reform that could enhance Virginia's environmental programs. And, most important, do a better job of protecting our environment.

Edward T. Walters is a farmer in Bath County. He was a member of the Mountain Soil and Water Conservation District for more than 20 years.



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