An Urban's Rural View

When an algae bloom renders sectors of a lake or ocean uninhabitable by fish, environmentalists and fishermen fret but the general public snoozes. No skin off me, most people think -- if they think about it at all.

They wake up and start thinking when an algae bloom forces authorities to tell 500,000 people not to drink tap water.

That's what happened in Toledo over the weekend. The algae bloom that's been blossoming on Lake Erie gave birth to a toxin that scientists say is more toxic than cyanide. Once the toxin, called microcystin, was found in Toledo's drinking water, officials issued a blanket ban: Don't drink the water, don't give it to pets, don't boil it (that only enhances the toxicity) and don't prepare food or brush teeth with it. For children and people with weak immune systems, don't even bathe in it.

Pandemonium ensued. Toledo denizens fled the city to fill up makeshift containers with H2O in other communities. Bottled water disappeared from store shelves. Restaurants closed.

After two dry days, Toledo's mayor declared the water drinkable again. But the repercussions are only beginning. You can bet farmers in Ohio and Michigan will feel their effects. Farmers elsewhere could too. This incident has national wake-up-call potential.

As the public comes to realize that the damage from dead zones isn't confined to fish, pressure to do something about "hazardous algae blooms," or HABs, will build. While fertilizer and animal-waste runoff aren't the only causes of the blooms, agriculture's role in the problem won't escape attention.

Governments have three tools for dissuading farmers from practices that contribute to HABs. They can disseminate information on desirable alternative practices. They can enact regulations and penalize those who disobey. Or they can shower subsidies on those who adopt the desirable alternatives.

Arguably the third tool would do the most good. Alternative practices will usually cost more -- if not, more farmers would already have adopted them -- so education alone is unlikely to prove persuasive. Compliance with regulations is often grudging, enforcement difficult.

No doubt farmers would embrace subsidies more enthusiastically than regulation, and their enthusiasm -- or lack of it -- would have a bearing on how effectively they controlled runoff. In subtle but important ways the carrot is mightier than the stick.

The problem with the third tool is finding someone to pay for it. From the beginning, farm-bill conservation programs have been underfunded. As originally conceived they were to take money from traditional Title I farm subsidies, but that never happened. Over the years they've been the first place Congress looked when it needed to make farm-spending cuts.

Farm groups are partly to blame. They have continued to push Congress to protect Title I. Conservation programs they've viewed as a nice-to-have.

In the future they may want to rethink their priorities. One or two more tap-water cutoffs and the stick may be inevitable.

Urban Lehner can be reached at urbanity@hotmail.com

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