When I was young I camped along the North Fork of the Umpqua River. I hiked along the banks, looking into the deep pools where the Umpqua cutthroat were resting from their thousand-mile journey, seeking refuge from predators. These fish were nearing the end of their journey, and the end of their lives. I was witnessing their last act, the returning of these salmonids to the stream of their origin to spawn and die.

I was impressed that a fish could swim so far and that it could find its way back to a stream it hadn't known since it was two inches long. I felt a great respect for the power of instinct, the power of nature to direct the course of a species' life. Unlike humans, these slippery, wet creatures had little to say about the course of their own destiny.

At fifty-four, I am still in awe of the salmon and its powerful instinct to assure its survival. As a fairly new father, I think about this instinct in humans. Each of us works hard to provide for our own children, yet our collective actions are undermining the health of the natural systems that sustain us. In the quest for our own betterment, we are jeopardizing the survival of other species: timber wolf, whooping crane, murrelet, tiger, cheetah, humpback whale, salmon...and the list goes on. We are compromising the ability of our natural systems to regenerate and restore themselves.

It took the Earth several billion years to bury the most toxic of materials, spawned with her creation, and what was left was a thin crust of earth where life could exist. Then, over the next two billion years, life evolved from simple one-celled organisms to very complex forms—the most complex of which is probably us, Homio sapiens. And here we are, perhaps the most intelligent beings on Earth, and we are busy digging up and redistributing those buried toxics, and moving the planet away from diversity and back toward monoculture.

The great scientists, naturalists, and philosophers of the last century—people like Albert Einstein, Aldo Leopold, Rachel Carson, Henry David Thoreau, Gifford Pinchot, John Muir, and Edward Abbey—have been telling us for decades that our management of the Earth is flawed. And they remind us that everything is connected—that humans are an intricate part of the web of life. If our collective actions tear down that web, we are also compromising the survival of our own species.

We have been reluctant recipients of this message. The environmental consciousness that was born in the late sixties all but disappeared in the late seventies and eighties. It emerged again in the nineties, with renewed momentum in the Northwest brought on by the decline of salmonids.

In Oregon, we are better off than most places on Earth. Our people and our environment are healthier and wealthier, if not wiser. This is probably due partly to the relatively recent advent of European settlement, but I think it is also due to a kind of Oregon ethic.

There is an Oregon identity—and ethic—that differs from all other places I have visited. It includes a strong identity with the land, a need for healthy natural systems including clean air and clean water, a craving for the wild, freedom of spirit, an abhorrence of waste and litter, and humility, most often coupled with a need to be fiercely independent. Oregonians will admit they do not know it all, but will accept change only if it is not forced upon them.

In Oregon, we understand that our quality of life is tied both to a healthy environment and to a healthy economy. Yet our economy is at an all-time high, while our environment is in crisis.

In response to this crisis, Oregon is doing what it does best. With a little encouragement and funding, communities across Oregon are coming together to solve the problem. Stream by stream, watershed by watershed, we are diagnosing the ills and prescribing the remedies. It is the role of government to clear the path for these solutions, and to support these local efforts to the maximum extent possible.

But there is more that we must do if we are to turn the tide of environmental degradation and set ourselves on a sustainable path. As a people, we must identify a set of principles that will allow us to coexist in an Oregon that is healthy, diverse, and sustainable. We must join the ranks of the founders of the new Northwest to change our personal and business practices to reflect our interdependence with nature.

A growing number of companies are pursuing programs that seek to "close the loop" in their manufacturing process—to produce their products without using non-renewable resources from the Earth's crust and without producing wastes. These forward-thinking companies are not just anticipating environmental benefits from their actions, they expect social and economic benefits to accrue as well. And right they should, or our goal of long-term survival on this planet will never be realized. Again, a role for government: We can make it easier and cheaper to do what's right. We can encourage these leaders in business by providing flexibility and incentives in our regulatory and taxing structure.

I would also like to see state government take the lead by setting the example. As a major land manager, developer, and employer, the state is well-positioned to demonstrate the advantages of living sustainably.

During my life in Oregon, I have come to know what is important to me. The peace in my soul is tied to the beauty of the forest, the mountains, and — most of all — the wild rivers. I have been guided by the words of John Muir: "Keep close to nature's heart...and break clear away, once in awhile, and climb a mountain or spend a week in the woods. Wash your spirit clean..."

I want there to always be that place where our children can go to replenish themselves. It is a responsibility that has guided me for the last several decades. I want to further the momentum that I feel is building to live within the means of our planet.

Will this collective interest in restoring our environment and living sustainably have the power to last over time? Will the Oregon ethic grow and mature in Oregon— as well as in other states and other countries— and eventually become a world ethic?

I put my trust in the people to make the right choices when they are given the knowledge and the opportunity. I believe we hold the right values. What we lack is a clear and bold vision based on our own desire to survive on this planet. It should be a vision that leaders at all levels help provide. Without that vision, we will be unwilling as a people to make the needed sacrifices for the future. With that vision—and encouragement from our leaders—we can trust in people to have the strength of spirit and commitment to make it happen.

As a parent, a spouse, a doctor, and a leader, I do not resist change; rather I seek to embrace and guide it. At the same time, we should take our lessons from the Earth, and follow the principles that have been working for two billion years to support life and increase diversity. We must protect and nurture the Earth, as it has nurtured us.

John Kitzhaber was elected Oregon's thirty-fifth governor in 1994 and was re-elected in 1998. He served in the Oregon House of Representatives from 1978 to 1980 and was then elected to the first of three terms in the Oregon Senate, representing Douglas County and parts of Jackson County. Throughout his public career, preserving Oregon's environment has been a priority for Kitzhaber. During his first term as governor, he developed and implemented the Oregon Plan for Salmon and Watersheds, a collaborative plan that encourages federal, state, and local government agencies to work with private landowners to restore watershed health and recover endangered salmon species. Kitzhaber is an accomplished fly fisherman and enjoys Oregon's wild rivers.

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