BY
SHARON VAN WYK
Having
read Geoffrey Lipman’s views on what he calls sustainable
“travelism” I would like to add a point of view from the southern
reaches of the Dark Continent, Africa, which may put into perspective
some of the points Geoffrey raises.
Firstly,
I have to say that I am a supporter in principle of sustainability,
and of putting “green before growth,” but living and working in
Africa, and traveling throughout its sub-Saharan expanses over the
last 40 years has provided me with an altogether less Utopian outlook
and one which may burst a few bubbles.
No
matter how admirable the ethics of sustainable growth and
development, and how cognizant the “west” has become of the need
to adapt and evolve the way we live, work, and play to be less
impactful on the planet on which we depend, the simple fact is that
we are fighting a losing battle. Sustainability, in its present form
at least, is a myth.
The
brand of sustainability we are practicing is delaying a process
rather than arresting it completely. Why? Because there are simply
too many human beings on this planet to enable us to stop what we
have started, and of those human beings, the vast majority are living
below what those in the developed nations commonly call the poverty
line, with little or no education and, therefore, no direct or
meaningful input into the governmental systems they are bound by
other than casting a vote (in democratic countries).
I
agree that we, as an industry, now largely recognize the need for
sustainability (which Geoffrey so aptly likened to an elephant) but
we still largely ignore the elephant in the room and that’s the
need to protect and conserve the one thing we are running out of
rapidly – space.
Growth,
by its very nature, is not sustainable because eventually we will run
out of space – space to build, space to work, space to play, space
to expand into, space to put aside for “nature.” Space is not a
renewable resource. It is finite. Here in Africa, where I live and
work, it is perhaps the most valuable commodity, next to water. And
it is the one thing that draws tourists in their millions… The
sweeping great plains of East Africa, the impenetrable forests of
Congo, Uganda, and Rwanda, the vast arid beauty of the Kalahari and
Namib deserts… But year by year these spaces are put under more and
more pressure by human expansion.
Tourism
is part of that expansion, and no matter how much we would like to
think that we can touch the Earth lightly, there is simply no way to
not make an impact, no matter how small. I would challenge anyone who
has been there not to marvel at the miracle that is the Maasai Mara
at the peak of the annual wildebeest migration. But when darkness
falls and the lights of countless resort-type developments on the
gentle hills surrounding the plains becomes inescapable, where is the
attraction? You may as well be in Central Park Zoo for all of the
spirit of wilderness it conveys.
This
industry has to be accountable for its actions. We strive to attract
more and more people to the world’s last wild places – at what
cost? And why? To show them the beauty and majesty of this planet in
its natural state or to make money? I don’t think there is a
tourism operator on this planet that runs their business as a
charitable institution. We provide a service for people who want to
escape and explore, and we charge for that privilege. Money is the
single biggest driver of human society and expansion and has been
since it and the economic systems it has spawned came into being.
We
make money from showing people different places, cultures, and sights
and from giving them experiences beyond the realm of their everyday
lives. A few of us would like to think that we change a few mindsets
in the process and even create a few activists along the way. In
Africa we have an enormous number of “repeat” visitors – people
who have been “wowed” by the continent’s incredible natural
resources to the extent that they return year after year in order to
get their “fix” of the wilderness experience and even contribute
to its protection. But that wilderness is getting smaller year on
year. And we have to own up to our role in helping to drive that.
Consider
the Victoria Falls and the two countries which share it – Zimbabwe
and Zambia. Forty years ago there was minimal development on both
banks of the mighty Zambezi river and virtually no traffic on the
river itself above the falls. Livingstone was a small border town
with little infrastructure, and its neighbor – the town of Victoria
Falls – was little more than a weekend escape for then Rhodesians.
Now
a concrete jungle competes with a somewhat diminished rain forest on
both sides of the falls. The air is filled with the sound of
helicopter rotors and the river is choked with pleasure vessels
bearing tourists on cruises. Hotel developments line the banks of the
upper Zambezi on both sides for a considerable distance. And
floodlights have been placed in the Batoka gorge below the falls to
light them at night. Both towns on both sides of the river have
become tourism hubs for their respective countries. Developments
abound. Communities prosper. Tourism stakeholders reap the rewards.
Where
do we draw the line? Is there a point at which we say “enough?”
In a truly sustainable model there has to be a time when critical
mass is achieved, above which anything more would render that model
not sustainable, not just from a business perspective but from an
environmental one. Once land is cleared for a new tourism development
the reality of sustainability diminishes and the myth kicks in. The
truth is that the only truly green development is no development at
all. Is the tourism industry ever going to say yes to no development?
While
tourism is held up as the unilateral tool for community upliftment,
poverty eradication and sustainable growth, especially in rural
areas, who is looking at the bigger picture? Human-wildlife conflict
is increasing in every corner of this continent (Africa), we are down
to fewer than 20,000 lions left in the wild, mostly through a loss of
range and deaths at the hands of cattle farmers (even though research
has shown that hyena are the main culprit where stock losses are
concerned), our wild dog population is probably less than 6,000.
These are our apex predators. If we lose them, our eco-systems
collapse.
Tourism,
and particularly eco-tourism, has a huge role to play in this
scenario, but to date it is missing the boat completely by choosing
to put the words green and growth into the same sentence and clinging
to the myth of sustainability rather than recognizing exactly what is
and what is not actually sustainable.
Sustainability
is not something which can be measured in purely scientific or
economic terms. Indeed, I would argue that much of it is instinctual
at almost a primeval level. Our forebears understood implicitly how
much they could take from the land without adversely affecting it and
some tribal societies still exist in this state of harmony, far from
the reach of modern existence.
For
all but a few these instincts have become obfuscated by greed to the
extent that humanity is likely past the point of no return and beyond
salvation and no amount of political rhetoric or gatherings of world
leaders can change this.
We
need to ask why we do what we do, not examine how we do it. Why do we
do what we do? It’s a question particularly pertinent to the
tourism industry. Why do we need more people to come and visit our
countries? Why do we want more hotels? Why do we want to find a piece
of pristine wilderness and put a five-star lodge on it rather than
leave it just the way it is? Why, when we know what a carbon
footprint is, do we insist on creating one where none existed?
Geoffrey
speaks of the industry harnessing the “immense, positive reality”
of sustainable tourism and travel. I agree there is much to be said
for all moving in the same direction with a united goal, but is
anyone checking to make sure the destination we are headed to is the
best option? After all, progress isn’t automatically a positive
thing.
When
I travel in Africa I occasionally come across the most incredible
stories which give me hope that perhaps all is not lost and that
there may be a better future for those who will come after me, where
real sustainability is a given, and politics and greed have no role
to play. They are invariably driven by outstanding human beings who
are prepared to buck the system, fly under the political radar, fight
against the odds, and give their all to make lasting change for good
a reality without any thought of personal gain – quite the opposite
of the people who supposedly govern them.
As
a global industry, tourism is largely regarded by politicians and
governments as insignificant, much in the same way that environmental
policy is seen as a hindrance to economic growth. The world’s
leaders only pay it lip service when it is politically necessary or
prudent to do so, largely engaging in filibustering to avoid changing
the status quo of power. For most First World countries, recycling
has become a “green” placebo for the lack of political will to
tackle the real issues which face us as a species. The population
explosion is swept under the carpet, renewable energy offers no
financial rewards, climate change is no longer regarded as a crisis,
and the price of oil still drives economic policy. Land is owned and
wealth and power go hand-in-hand – all to benefit a few at the
expense of the majority.
Without
the political will to understand and fully grasp the impact we, as a
species, are making on this planet and while political agendas are
still tied to inherently flawed economic systems and non-renewable
resources, there can be no sustainability in any aspect of our lives,
let alone “travelism.” And while we, as societies, still support
fiefdom and greed as pillars of our existence, what green there is
left on this planet is ultimately doomed, and tourism, travelism, or
whatever you choose to call it will only add to its demise.
We
are part of the problem, and only once we understand that we are part
of the problem can we find a sustainable solution.
The
author, Sharon van Wyk, is an award-winning writer and natural
history film-maker based in Pretoria, South Africa. She specializes
in the relationships between “responsible” eco-tourism,
conservation, and rural communities in sub-Saharan Africa. She has
been involved in the South African tourism industry for the last two
decades and has served on the national executive committee of the
Southern Africa Tourism Services Association (SATSA) as Chairperson
of the Gauteng chapter.
Source
http://www.eturbonews.com