KELLY H. FERGUSON
is Editor.Pulp & Paper

Battles at the fiber front

I held my tongue as much as I could, but it was hard not to be sarcastic. The board chairperson of a non-profit organization I participate in began passing around a thick handout, and as he distributed them he made the comment, “Unfortunately, a bunch of trees had to die so that I could present these ideas.” I cringed and commented under my breath that I resented that remark. At lunch, he hadn’t made any comment about those “unfortunate chickens having to die so that we could eat a bland meal.” As an aside, he was right. It was unfortunate that trees had to die so that those ideas could be presented. And so ended another skirmish on the fiber front.

P&P has published several columns focused on the subject of “saving” trees and the increasing tendency for them to be portrayed as “living” creatures that can be “killed” rather than harvested. To some, such off-handed comments as those the chairperson made are a humorous way to belittle their own efforts. But to others, it truly is a matter of ’life“ and “death.” Take, for example, the story of Julia “Butterfly” Hill.

A MODERN DAY “LORAX.” The story is likely to be familiar to many in the forest products industry, especially those in the Pacific Northwest. On December 10, 1997, Julia Hill climbed into a 200-ft.–tall ancient redwood she named “Luna” that resided on Northern California property owned by The Pacific Lumber Company. For two years, Ms. Hill made her home there, never touching the ground.

The “tree sit” was an effort to call attention to the issue of protecting old–growth trees. As Ms. Hill put it, “Here I can be the voice and face of this tree, and for the whole forest that can’t speak for itself.” Dr. Suess’ story of “The Lorax” immediately comes to mind, with the image that California’s redwoods are our Truffula trees.

On December 18, 1999, Ms. Hill climbed down from the tree after reaching an agreement with Pacific Lumber. In essence, the company (in its own words), “agreed to enter into a Preservation Agreement and Covenant with Sanctuary Forest and with Julia ’Butterfly’ Hill to permanently protect an old-growth tree and a protective buffer zone, on the Company’s private property.” I can imagine that on the part of some in the logging community there was a desire to just fell the tree and see what happened–a publicity nightmare that no public relations professional would want to touch. But, numerous issues beyond just the existence of a single tree (or multiple trees) swirl around the action that Ms. Hill took.

What about property rights? What about the community and its ability to shape its own destiny? How does this action and its resolution affect other potential acts of what some would call environmental terrorism?

NO EASY ANSWERS. It’s easy to see Ms. Hill as a lunatic. But it’s also easy to admire someone for standing up (or sitting down) for what they believe in. Let’s face it, two years (730 days or 17,520 hours) in a tree is a long, long time. I couldn’t even stand two days in a tree fort when I was a kid spending the night with Vince Johnson.

Ms. Hill has, of course, has written a book– “The Legacy of Luna”–which guarantees that her 15 minutes of fame will be extend by at least another year of book tours, radio and TV talk shows, and maybe even a made–for–TV movie. Pacific Lumber, for its part, says that “the controversy surrounding timber companies and environmentalists on the North Coast must stop, and that it is imperative that common ground be forged between these two groups.” Well said, but it’s hard to believe that some peaceful coexistence can happen between two such passionate and volatile groups.

But in this case, score one for the individual. Was she right, and therefore Pacific Lumber was wrong? Was Pacific Lumber right, but didn’t press the issue strongly enough? Or is the outcome the right one and it took the act of an individual–lunatic or not–to produce that outcome? Hard questions. If you have any thoughts, send a letter or an email to kferguson@mfi.com