Public lands – preserving their wonders, anyway – is my passion, but with all the political difficulties and human tragedies that crowd the headlines, is public lands a reasonable place to focus life energy and precious time? The Parkland, Florida, shooting victims were laid to rest. New immigration enforcement separates families, and the threat of nuclear war is higher than at any time since the Cold War. Arctic sea ice reached record lows this January, and species extinction now occurs at record highs. The Utah Legislature won’t pass laws to prevent early deaths and health problems caused by polluted air. The world’s oceans are drowning in plastics. The problems loom large, the challenges easily overwhelm, and it’s hard to see how to make a difference. Nationwide, Giving USA reports that only 3% of a record-breaking $390 billion total in charitable giving went to Animals/Environment, so there’s not exactly a tidal wave of resources devoted to conservation work, let alone the subset of public lands preservation. Nonetheless, from my work at Torrey House Press where we promote conservation through literature to my board service at Utah Sierra Club and Wild Utah Project, fighting to protect public lands from privatization and development is where most of my time and energy goes. Will it help? Read the rest of this entry
Have you seen your favorite nonprofits urging you to join Am*zon Smiles: You Shop Am*zon Gives program? Sign up, and your favorite public radio station, environmental organization, homeless shelter, you-name-it will receive a percentage of every purchase you make at Am*zon, at no additional cost to you. Seems pretty win-win. And so feel-good. But don’t let the smile fool you: here be dragons.
First of all, the contribution the selected nonprofits get is small. Tiny, really. It sounds great to have a portion of your next order of printer paper going to your favorite children’s hospital, but only 0.5 percent of each purchase goes to the designated nonprofit. That means if you wanted to give $50, you’d have to spend $10,000 through Am*zonSmile. Which means $10,000 to Am*zon, $50 to your charity. Who’s the winner here?
Second, the donations are made by the Am*zonSmile Foundation, not you, so one of the biggest companies on earth gets a tax deduction rather than you. Now, that may not be the worst thing in the world. Tax deductions aren’t the most important reason people give, and big isn’t by definition always bad. I certainly don’t begrudge Bill and Melinda Gates their tax benefits that result from their education and public health efforts around the globe. But Am*zon’s market share is so big in some sectors that it is changing local and industry landscapes, which comes with its own consequences.
Third, while signing up for the program can give would-be givers a charitable, warm fuzzy feeling, doing so may actually reduce overall giving. Researchers at the University of British Columbia’s Sauder School of Business found that “if people are able to declare support for a charity publicly in social media it can actually make them less likely to donate to the cause later on.” While this study focused on social media, the similarity between a “like” and choosing a charity through Am*zonSmile is not insignificant. While the program may help people be more charitable in theory, it may make folks less charitable in reality.
Finally, nonprofits promoting Am*zonSmile can inadvertently end up hurting their own communities. For instance, this week, a public radio station in Grand Junction, Colorado, urged listeners to sign up for the program, thus giving free advertizing to its local businesses’ biggest–and most dangerous–competitor. Grand Junction is fortunate to have some terrific bookstores including Grand Valley Books and Out West Books, and independent stores like these are on the front lines of Am*zon’s march toward being, indeed, The Everything Store. By steering business away from these hometown businesses, the public radio station manages to both injure important friends in the community and deprive itself of donations from local business owners who depend on their local customer base. Seems much more effective to ask those stores for a $50 donation rather than wait for $10,000 in designated Am*zonSmile sales. That’s win-win.
Salt Lake City, Grand Junction, Durango, Reno, Prescott–like other cities Mark and I love, these all have thriving independent bookstores, which invigorate the cultures and economies of their lucky communities. Booksellers at Maria’s Bookshop, Sundance Music and Books, and Peregrine Book Company are terrific champions of Torrey House Press books, and we The Salt Lake City area boasts a half-dozen indie bookstores, each with a slightly different focus and often different customers. The stores employ well over a hundred employees between them, adding to local economic activity in numerous ways, and authors from near and far come to read, sharing ideas and stories that stimulate intellectual life. Without these bookstores, Salt Lake’s economy would be flatter, its cultural landscape less diverse. It would be a much less vibrant and attractive place to live.
There’s no question that Am*zon has mastered delivering just about anything faster and more cheaply than anyone. It has invested staggering amounts of money and astonishing engineering talent to do so. Fast and cheap is expensive, but it’s good customer service, and Am*zon is committed to that. So good that it can be hard to see the harm. But single-minded efficiency often comes at a cost we might not be willing to pay if we could see all its outcomes. For example, back in the 1880s, the West was introduced to one of its best growing, most productive grasses, one that state and federal land managers still plant in forests and deserts around the West to benefit public lands livestock growers. Much like the Kentucky bluegrass gracing front yards everywhere, smooth brome grass has a strong and elegant rhizomatous root system and a prolific seed cycle that easily take over plant communities that once boasted a variety of native bunch grasses and wildflowers, with pollinators buzzing about, stimulating the food chain. But smooth brome is a great forage producer, and a big meadow of it hardly looks like a smokey factory or dull, forgettable strip mall. Alas, in the arid and semi-arid West, what it really is, though, is a biodiversity destroyer, a horticultural monopolizer. Where you could have this: you eventually end up with what is essentially a single-species monopoly, like a Kentucky bluegrass lawn. I like lawn just fine, but I’d hate to have it everywhere, and I don’t want to be responsible for helping it take over the landscape.