This essay concerns President George W. Bush’s proposal to allow drilling in part of the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge (ANWR, pronounced “An-war”). The ANWR section where drilling is proposed is called the 1002 area, as defined by Section 1002 of the Alaska National Interest Lands Conservation Act of 1980. In March 2003, the Senate rejected the Bush proposal, but the issue remains alive.
We follow George F. Will’s essay with some comments about the ways in which he constructs his argument.
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GEORGE F. WILL
George F. Will (b. 1941), a syndicated columnist whose writing appears in 460 newspapers, was born in Champaign, Illinois, and educated at Trinity College (in Hartford), Oxford University, and Princeton University. Will has served as the Washington, D.C., editor of the National Review and now writes a regular column for Newsweek. His essays have been collected in several books.
This essay was originally published in 2002, so it is in some respects dated — for instance, in its reference to the price of gasoline — but it still serves as an excellent model of certain ways to argue.
Being Green at Ben and Jerry’s
Some Environmental Policies Are Feel-Good Indulgences for an Era of Energy Abundance
If you have an average-size dinner table, four feet by six feet, put a dime on the edge of it. Think of the surface of the table as the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge in Alaska. The dime is larger than the piece of the coastal plain that would have been opened to drilling for oil and natural gas. The House of Representatives voted for drilling, but the Senate voted against access to what Sen. John Kerry, Massachusetts Democrat and presidential aspirant, calls “a few drops of oil.” ANWR could produce, for twenty-five years, at least as much oil as America currently imports from Saudi Arabia.
Six weeks of desultory Senate debate about the energy bill reached an almost comic culmination in … yet another agriculture subsidy. The subsidy is a requirement that will triple the amount of ethanol, which is made from corn, that must be put in gasoline, ostensibly to clean America’s air, actually to buy farmers’ votes.
Over the last three decades, energy use has risen about 30 percent. But so has population, which means per capita energy use is unchanged. And per capita GDP has risen substantially, so we are using 40 percent less energy per dollar output. Which is one reason there is no energy crisis, at least none as most Americans understand such things — a shortage of, and therefore high prices of, gasoline for cars, heating oil for furnaces and electricity for air conditioners.
In the absence of a crisis to concentrate the attention of the inattentive American majority, an intense faction — full-time environmentalists — goes to work. Spencer Abraham, the secretary of Energy, says “the previous administration … simply drew up a list of fuels it didn’t like — nuclear energy, coal, hydropower, and oil — which together account for 73 percent of America’s energy supply.” Well, there are always windmills.
5 Sometimes lofty environmentalism is a cover for crude politics. The United States has the world’s largest proven reserves of coal. But Mike Oliver, a retired physicist and engineer, and John Hospers, professor emeritus of philosophy at USC, note that in 1996 President Clinton put 68 billion tons of America’s cleanest-burning coal, located in Utah, off-limits for mining, ostensibly for environmental reasons. If every existing U.S. electric power plant burned coal, the 68 billion tons could fuel them for forty-five years at the current rate of consumption. Now power companies must import clean-burning coal, some from mines owned by Indonesia’s Lippo Group, the heavy contributor to Clinton, whose decision about Utah’s coal vastly increased the value of Lippo’s coal.
The United States has just 2.14 percent of the world’s proven reserves of oil, so some people say it is pointless to drill in places like ANWR because “energy independence” is a chimera.1 Indeed it is. But domestic supplies can provide important insurance against uncertain foreign supplies. And domestic supplies can mean exporting hundreds of billions of dollars less to oil-producing nations, such as Iraq.
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Besides, when considering proven reserves, note the adjective. In 1930 the United States had proven reserves of 13 billion barrels. We then fought the Second World War and fueled the most fabulous economic expansion in human history, including the electricity-driven “New Economy.” (Manufacturing and running computers consume 15 percent of U.S. electricity. Internet use alone accounts for half of the growth in demand for electricity.) So by 1990 proven reserves were … 17 billion barrels, not counting any in Alaska or Hawaii.
In 1975 proven reserves in the Persian Gulf were 74 billion barrels. In 1993 they were 663 billion, a ninefold increase. At the current rate of consumption, today’s proven reserves would last 150 years. New discoveries will be made, some by vastly improved techniques of deep-water drilling. But environmental policies will define opportunities. The government estimates that beneath the U.S. outer continental shelf, which the government owns, there are at least 46 billion barrels of oil. But only 2 percent of the shelf has been leased for energy development.
Opponents of increased energy production usually argue for decreased consumption. But they flinch from conservation measures. A new $1 gasoline tax would dampen demand for gasoline, but it would stimulate demands for the heads of the tax increasers. After all, Americans get irritable when impersonal market forces add 25 cents to the cost of a gallon. Tougher fuel-efficiency requirements for vehicles would save a lot of energy. But who would save the legislators who passed those requirements? Beware the wrath of Americans who like to drive, and autoworkers who like to make cars that are large, heavy, and safer than the gasoline-sippers that environmentalists prefer.
10 Some environmentalism is a feel-good indulgence for an era of energy abundance, which means an era of avoided choices. Or ignored choices — ignored because if acknowledged, they would not make the choosers feel good. Karl Zinsmeister, editor in chief of the American Enterprise magazine, imagines an oh-so-green environmentalist enjoying the most politically correct product on the planet — Ben & Jerry’s ice cream. Made in a factory that depends on electricity-guzzling refrigeration, a gallon of ice cream requires four gallons of milk. While making that much milk, a cow produces eight gallons of manure, and flatulence with another eight gallons of methane, a potent “greenhouse” gas. And the cow consumes lots of water plus three pounds of grain and hay, which is produced with tractor fuel, chemical fertilizers, herbicides and insecticides, and is transported with truck or train fuel:
“So every time he digs into his Cherry Garcia, the conscientious environmentalist should visualize (in addition to world peace) a pile of grain, water, farm chemicals, and energy inputs much bigger than his ice cream bowl on one side of the table, and, on the other side of the table, a mound of manure eight times the size of his bowl, plus a balloon of methane that would barely fit under the dining room table.”
Cherry Garcia. It’s a choice. Bon appétit.
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GEORGE F. WILL’S STRATEGIES
Now let’s look at Will’s essay to see what techniques he uses to engage readers’ interest and perhaps enable him to convince them — or at least make them think — that he is on to something. If you think some or all of his strategies are effective, consider adapting them for use in your own essays.
The title, “Being Green at Ben and Jerry’s,” does not at all prepare readers for an argument about drilling in the National Arctic Wildlife Refuge. But if you have read any of Will’s other columns in Newsweek, you probably know that he is conservative and can guess that in this essay he’ll poke some fun at the green folk — the environmentalists. Will can get away with using a title that isn’t focused because he has a body of loyal readers who will read his pieces no matter what the topic is, but the rest of us have to give our readers some idea of our topic. In short, let your readers know early, perhaps in the title, where you’ll be taking them.
The subtitle, “Some Environmental Policies Are Feel-Good Indulgences for an Era of Energy Abundance,” perhaps added by the magazine’s editor, suggests that the piece will concern energy. Moreover, the words “feel-good indulgences” signal to readers that Will believes the environmentalists are indulging themselves.
Paragraph 1 offers a striking comparison. Will wants his readers to believe that the area proposed for drilling is tiny, so he says that if they imagine the entire Arctic National Wildlife Refuge as a dinner table, the area proposed for drilling is the size of a dime. We think you’ll agree that this opening seizes a reader’s attention. Although some opponents to drilling in the ANWR have contested Will’s analogy (saying the area would be much larger, perhaps comparable to the size of a dinner plate, or even a dinner plate broken in pieces, with roads and pipelines crossing between the fragments), the image is still highly effective. A dime is so small! And worth so little!
Another point about paragraph 1: Will’s casual voice sounds like one you might hear in your own living room: “If you have an average-size dinner table,” “The dime is larger,” “at least as much oil.” Your own essays need not adopt a highly formal style. Readers should think of you as serious but not solemn.
Will goes on to say that Senator John Kerry, an opponent of drilling and therefore on the side that Will opposes, dismisses the oil in the refuge as “a few drops.” Will replies that it “could produce, for twenty-five years, at least as much oil as America currently imports from Saudi Arabia.” Kerry’s “a few drops” isn’t literal, of course; he means that the oil is a drop in the bucket. But when one looks into the issue, one finds that estimates by responsible sources vary considerably — from 3.2 billion barrels to 11.5 billion barrels.
Paragraph 2 dismisses the Senate’s debate (“almost comic … actually to buy farmers’ votes”).
Paragraph 3 offers statistics to make the point that “there is no energy crisis.” Here, as in paragraph 1 (where he showed his awareness of Kerry’s view), Will indicates that he’s familiar with views other than his own. In arguing a case, it’s important for a writer to let readers know that indeed there are other views — which the writer then shows are less substantial than the writer’s own. Will is correct in saying that “per capita energy use is unchanged,” but opponents might say, “Yes, per capita consumption hasn’t increased; but given the population increase, the annual amount has vastly increased, which means that resources are being depleted and that pollution is increasing.”
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Paragraph 4 asserts again that there is no energy crisis, pokes fun at “full-time environmentalists” (perhaps even implying that such people ought to get respectable jobs), and ends with a bit of whimsy: These folks probably think we should go back to using windmills.
Paragraph 5, in support of the assertion that “Sometimes lofty environmentalism is a cover for crude politics,” cites an authority (often an effective technique). Since readers aren’t likely to recognize the name, Will also identifies him (“professor emeritus of philosophy at USC”) and then offers further statistics. The paragraph begins by talking about “crude politics” and ends with this assertion: “Now power companies must import clean-burning coal, some from mines owned by Indonesia’s Lippo Group, the heavy contributor to Clinton.” In short, Will makes several strategic moves to suggest that at least some environmentalists’ views are rooted in money and politics.
Paragraph 6 offers another statistic (“The United States has just 2.14 percent of the world’s proven reserves of oil”) and turns it against those who argue that therefore it’s pointless to drill in Alaska. In effect, Will is replying to people like Senator Kerry who say that the Arctic refuge provides only “a few drops of oil.” The point, Will suggests, is not that it’s impossible for the nation to achieve independence; rather, the point is that “domestic supplies can provide important insurance against uncertain foreign supplies.”
Paragraph 7 begins smoothly with a transition, “Besides,” and then offers additional statistics concerning the large amount of oil that the United States has held in proven reserves. For instance, by the end of World War II these reserves were enough to fuel “the most fabulous economic expansion in human history.”
Paragraph 8 offers additional statistics, first about “proven reserves in the Persian Gulf” and then about an estimate — but only an estimate — of oil “beneath the U.S. outer continental shelf.” We are not certain of Will’s point here, but in any case the statistics suggest that he has done some homework.
Paragraph 9 summarizes the chief position (as Will sees it) of those on the other side of this issue: They “usually argue for decreased consumption,” but they’re afraid to argue for the sort of gasoline tax that might indeed decrease consumption because they know that many Americans want to drive large, heavy cars. Further, the larger, heavier cars that the environmentalists object to are in fact “safer than the gasoline-sippers that environmentalists prefer.”
Paragraph 10 uses the term “feel-good indulgence,” which also appears in the essay’s subtitle; and now in the paragraph’s third sentence we hear again of Ben and Jerry, whose names we haven’t seen since reading the essay’s title, “Being Green at Ben and Jerry’s.” Perhaps we’ve been wondering all this time why the title mentions Ben and Jerry. Surely most readers know that Ben and Jerry are associated with ice cream and therefore with cows and meadows, and probably many readers know that Ben and Jerry support environmentalism and other liberal causes. Drawing on an article by Karl Zinsmeister, editor of the American Enterprise, Will writes an extremely amusing paragraph in which he points out that the process of making ice cream “depends on electricity-guzzling refrigeration” and that the cows are essentially supported by fuel that transports fertilizers, herbicides, and insecticides. Further, in the course of producing the four gallons of milk required for one gallon of ice cream, the cows themselves — those darlings of the environmentalists — contribute “eight gallons of manure, and flatulence with another eight gallons of methane, a potent ‘greenhouse’ gas.” As we’ll soon see in Will’s next paragraph, the present paragraph is largely a lead-in for the quotation he gives in the next paragraph. He knows it isn’t enough to give a quotation; a writer has to make use of it — by leading in to it, by commenting on it after inserting it, or both.
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Paragraph 11 is entirely devoted to quoting Zinsmeister, who imagines an environmentalist digging into a dish of one of Ben and Jerry’s most popular flavors, Cherry Garcia. We’re invited to see the bowl of ice cream on one side of the table — here Will effectively evokes the table of paragraph 1 — and a pile of manure on the other side, “plus a balloon of methane that would barely fit under the dining room table.” This statement is vulgar, no doubt, but it’s funny too. Will knows that humor as well as logic (and statistics and other evidence) can be among the key tools a writer uses in getting an audience to consider or accept an argument.
Paragraph 12 consists of three short sentences, adding up to less than a single line of type: “Cherry Garcia. It’s a choice. Bon appétit.” None of the sentences mentions oil or the Arctic Refuge or statistics; therefore, this ending might seem irrelevant to the topic, but Will is very effectively saying, “Sure, you have a choice about drilling in the Arctic Refuge; any sensible person will choose the ice cream (drilling) rather than the manure and the gas (not drilling).”
What, if anything, makes George Will’s essay interesting to you? What, if anything, makes it highly persuasive? How might it be made more persuasive?
In paragraph 10, Will clowns about the gas that cows emit, but apparently this gas, which contributes to global warming, is no laughing matter. The government of New Zealand, in an effort to reduce livestock emissions of methane and nitrous oxide, proposed a tax that would subsidize future research on the emissions. The tax would cost the average farmer $300 a year. Imagine that you’re a New Zealand farmer. Write a letter to your representative, arguing for or against the tax.
Senator Barbara Boxer, campaigning against the proposal to drill in ANWR, spoke of the refuge as “God’s gift to us” (New York Times, March 20, 2002). How strong an argument is this? Some opponents of the proposal have said that drilling in ANWR is as unthinkable as drilling in Yosemite or the Grand Canyon. Again, how strong is this argument? Can you imagine circumstances in which you would support drilling in these places? Why, or why not? Do we have a moral duty to preserve certain unspoiled areas? Explain your response.
The Inupiat (Eskimo) who live in and near ANWR by a large majority favor drilling, seeing it as a source of jobs and a source of funding for schools, hospitals, and police. But the Ketchikan Indians, who speak of themselves as the “Caribou People,” see drilling as a threat to the herds on which they depend for food and hides. How is it possible to balance the conflicting needs of these two groups?
Opponents of drilling in ANWR argue that over its lifetime of fifty years, the area would produce less than 1 percent of the fuel we need during the period and that therefore we shouldn’t risk disturbing the area. Further, they argue that drilling in ANWR is an attempt at a quick fix to U.S. energy needs, whereas what the nation really needs are sustainable solutions, such as the development of renewable energy sources (e.g., wind and sun) and fuel-efficient automobiles. How convincing do you find these arguments? Explain your response.
Proponents of drilling include a large majority — something like 75 percent — of the people of Alaska, including its governor and its two senators. How much attention do their voices deserve?
Analyze the essay in terms of its use of ethos, pathos, and logos.
What sort of audience do you think Will is addressing? What values do his readers probably share? What makes you think so?
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