Jun
10
Filed Under (Commentary, Words) by waterwordsthatwork on 10-06-2007

Louis Harley’s retirement merits a nice feature story in Washington Post today. He’s the last full-time Potomac River commercial fisherman in the Washington metro area, and his story strikes a chord with those of us who share and admire his intimacy with the river, but how do stories profiling Harley and his peers influence everday citizens’ feelings about the health and economic role of the river today?

Photo by Andrea Bruce. Click to buy from the Washington Post

The Post reports that Harley has made his living hauling fish out of the Potomac for 65 years, and he has watched the once-pristine river become fouled with pollution and its wildlife disappear. And has has also seen it rebound somewhat in the late 1970s and 1980s. And although age prompts his retirement rather than the state of the fishery, he watches with amazement as new mini-mansions and yachts close in on his small business and “muddy, fish-smelling skiffs.”

Your humble blogger has fought both alongside and against commercial fishing interests over the years, depending on the issue. I always mourn their loss. There will be one less person on the water keeping a trained eye on the river next year. One less person for whom the word “habitat” is more than something they hear about on the Discovery Channel.

But stories about vanishing ways of life do not motivate the public to protect the river, at least not as broadly or strongly as the words that work. One reason is that the economic message is weak and unconvincing. Regular citizens are highly skeptical that recreational and even commercial fishing amount to significant economic activities. The article underscores that by playing up Louis as the last of his breed.

Another is that evoking the past generally doesn’t do much to motivate Americans. About anything.

Articulate your vision “in terms of the future, not the past or present,” advised message-meister Frank Luntz in his famous leaked message memo to Republican legislators a few years back. Others concur and that’s good advice for you, too. Americans respond much more strongly to concerns about their families, children, and the well-being of future generations than tales of days gone — or going — by.

If Louis Harley had gone into retirement voicing his concerns about positive aspects of his life on the river that future generations won’t be able to share, that would be powerful. But the mere fact that the once-thriving and profitable fishing industry has all but disappeared from the river is something that will evoke nostalgia from most people who read this article, but not alarm and resolve.

Read the feature story about Louis Harley’s life along the Potomac River.

See the Washington Post’s photo gallery for this story.

Apr
20
Filed Under (Commentary, Recommendation) by waterwordsthatwork on 20-04-2007

EnvMovement

One of the inspirations for Water Words That Work is the Gallup Poll Daily Briefing, where Dr. Newport, editor in chief of the polling firm, narrates the company’s latest findings on a wide variety of topics (Yes, yes, they have a nicer set and fancier graphics than I do). Every year around Earth Day, Gallup does a poll on the environment.

This year, one of the findings they reported is how remarkably steady public opinion and behavior on environmental matters seems to be throughout this decade — despite a huge surge in news coverage around global warming this year.

Check out the trends in the chart above. If you allow for a 3% to 5% margin of error, there’s barely any perceptible motion here at all. How can this be?

One possible explanation is that the public has been losing faith and tuning out traditional print and broadcast news sources for a decade or more. And the result is that even huge surges in news coverage like the one Al Gore kicked off with “An Inconvenient Truth” just don’t have as much influence as they used to. What are Americans doing with those hours they used to spend reading, watching, and listening to the news? Surfing the net, of course.