drop of rain falls from the sky, seized
by a thirsty plant
that serves as a nest for a family of baby sparrows. If too much or
too little rain falls, the plant will die, the sparrows will be rendered
homeless, and the ripple effect will skid up and down the food chain.
Such is the interconnectedness of an ecosystem.
Society is not unlike an ecosystem. Scientists,
politicians, CEOs, and citizens collectively drive our way of life,
much like the water,
sunlight, plants, and animals that work in tandem to sustain life
on Earth. But there’s a snag in the machinery—a gap in
communication and collaboration across disciplines. This can result
in poor decision
making, and one of the most vulnerable victims in our society is
the environment.
Laws regulating human impact on the environment
in the United States date back to the country’s infancy,
mostly dealing with deforestation and exploitation of natural resources.
Following the Baby Boom
and a subsequent 20-year growth in development and industry, the
1970s
saw a reactive surge in environmental consciousness. The Environmental
Protection Agency was born, and many major regulations were passed,
including the Clean Air Act, the Clean Water Act, and the Endangered
Species Act. But as populations grew and more lands were developed,
environmental issues became more complex.
At the University of Miami, departments, schools, and colleges
are forging new ties on topics related to the environment, developing
models that may some day help policymakers make the best, most-informed
decisions.
The Science-Policy Gap
ight
now the issue of global warming exemplifies a disconnect between
science and policy,” says Jacqueline Dixon, associate professor
of marine geology and geophysics at the Rosenstiel School of Marine
and Atmospheric Science. “There is strong scientific consensus
that human activity is altering the Earth’s climate.
But the media in this country, as well as the current administration,
have tended to focus on the uncertainties.”
The uncertainties are in the details, she says, such
as how
much the average global temperature will rise, when this
will happen,
how much drought this will cause, and which species
will go extinct. “Given
what we know and what we don’t know, the prudent thing to do
would be to limit the growth of hydrocarbon burning.”
But passing environmental laws requires consideration
of more than just science. “Scientists who advise policymakers have to understand
the pressures those policymakers face—from constituents, public
interest groups, or other politicians,” says Mary Doyle, professor
of law and codirector of the University’s new Center for Ecosystem
Science and Policy (CESP). Doyle and Otis Brown, dean of the Rosenstiel
School, designed the center to teach current and future generations
of scientists and legislators the importance of working together. “From
my experience as a public policymaker, I realized that the nexus between
science and policy is critical and that it is very impaired,” she
says.
Doyle was assistant secretary for water and
science in the Department of the Interior during the Clinton administration
when Congress authorized
the $7.8 billion Comprehensive Everglades Restoration Plan. Approved
in December 2000, the plan aims to remedy the damage caused by more
than 50 years of drainage and development in the region. Solutions
include a system that will store rainwater and rehydrate the River
of Grass during dry seasons as well as the creation of treatment
marshes to keep phosphorous and other agricultural pollutants in
check. It is the world’s largest-ever ecosystem restoration
project, right in the University’s backyard.
“My solution for the Everglades was to have
organic rice instead of sugar cane as a crop, but the politics dictate
something else,” says
Richard Weisskoff, associate professor of international studies
in the College of Arts and Sciences and author of Missing Pieces,
the
Economics of Everglades Restoration. An international economist
who has worked for the United Nations, the Interamerican Development
Bank, and the U.S. Department of Agriculture, Weisskoff explains
the bitter-sweet consequence of having the U.S. sugar cane industry
grounded in South Florida.
“Sugar cane needs dry soil,” Weisskoff says. “In
the middle of a marsh that needs flowing water you’ve got to
create an island of dryness, so there’s a lot of runoff that
goes downstream and hurts the environment.”
Organic rice in lieu of a water storage and
recovery system is an example of how Weisskoff and his team at
PRENDE—Program on
the Environment and Development in Latin America and the Caribbean—like
to solve environmental problems. Three years ago, an offer by the
Latin American Studies program to fund cross-disciplinary research
linked him with Helena Solo-Gabriele, B.S.C.E. ’87, M.S.C.E. ’88,
associate professor of civil, architectural, and environmental
engineering, and Daniel Suman, associate professor of marine affairs
at the Rosenstiel
School. Supported by a $400,000 grant from the V. Kahn Rasmussen
Foundation, PRENDE presently operates environmental research
projects in Panama, Honduras, and Peru.

Weisskoff beams when talking about Peru, a true
success story of how experts in many disciplines developed a grassroots
solution
for deadly, recurring mudslides flooding the city of Ica. Peru’s
national government prescribed a $60 million project to construct
concrete walls and deep canals. “But it’s so expensive
that it won’t happen in our lifetime,” Weisskoff explains.
PRENDE investigated why the mud was sliding and discovered that
goat herding and wood cutting had destroyed all the trees. The
PRENDE
solution is to build a national park, which also could generate
income for the region via new jobs and the sale of fruit produced
from the
planted trees. A small, nongovernmental group of scientists and
sociologists in the region is partnering with PRENDE to implement
the concept. “That’s
the low-cost fix to prevent a city from flooding that’s doable.
The idea is to use science, technology, and social analysis to
prevent ecological disasters.”
A Natural
Step for Academia
rossing
disciplines in research leads to better policy decisions, but
the concept is just gaining a foothold in academia. The process
of tenure and evaluating faculty based on productivity in their
own field has traditionally prohibited them from branching
out into new areas. “For me it would be a lot easier
to just teach and do research in hydrology,” says Fernando
Miralles-Wilhelm, a hydrologist and assistant professor of
civil, architectural, and environmental engineering at the
College of Engineering.
Miralles-Wilhelm is spearheading the Iraq
AWARE project, a joint effort between CESP, the Center for
Wetlands at the University
of Florida, and the University of Basrah in southern Iraq
to restore the Tigris-Euphrates watershed, which was drained
by
Saddam Hussein, driving the Marsh Arabs out of their homeland.
Lessons learned from this restoration would benefit threatened
wetlands worldwide. “So now I’m learning biology,” Miralles-Wilhelm
says, “which is cool.” By requiring a collaborative
component to grants, agencies like the National Science Foundation
are prompting shifts in the academic modus operandi. “So
if you don’t want to be interdisciplinary,” Miralles-Wilhelm
says, “you’re going to have a harder time getting
funding.”
To stimulate ideas for collaborative projects,
faculty in the College of Arts and Sciences conducted a series
of faculty
brainstorming sessions to explore new topics, themes, and
initiatives
that no one department could develop on its own. Out of
the sessions came the Institute for Theoretical and Mathematical
Ecology and the Tropical Research Center. The first is
a
melding of mathematicians, computer scientists, and ecologists
focused
on issues like loss of habitat and global warming; the
latter is a network of biologists, geologists, anthropologists,
political scientists, and marine scientists who study ecosystem
function
in the tropics.
Within the Tropical Research Center is the
Punta Cana Association on Sustainability and Biodiversity,
founded by Eloy Rodriguez,
professor of chemistry and senior associate dean of the
College of Arts and Sciences. He oversees faculty, students,
and
scientists who conduct research on Caribbean ecosystems
from a ten-acre
field station in the Dominican Republic.
The University of Miami is a logical epicenter
for innovative environmental research. We are a neighbor to
the Everglades,
and our proximity to tropical South America and the
Caribbean opens doors for ecological efforts of global impact,
especially in regions mired by governmental or economic
problems.
But there’s another factor. “It’s the natural
beauty of our setting,” Doyle says. “The aesthetics
of the environment are felt here all the time.”
Living in a lush coastal city whose emerald-blue
waters satiate large appetites for both recreation and cuisine,
it’s
easy to assume that the bounties of the seas are limitless.
But research at the Rosenstiel School of Marine and Atmospheric
Science has increasingly been proving otherwise. “Forty
or 50 years ago we viewed the oceans’ resources as infinite,” says
Dean Brown. “It’s really important for the public
and for us to understand that we do have to manage them. The
question is, is there an ear out there that wants to listen?”
Ellen Pikitch, an internationally recognized
expert in ocean conservation and executive director of the
new
Pew Institute
for Ocean Science at the Rosenstiel School, says
that more effective communication in recent years
has made
people
aware of the fragility of the oceans. “The alarm has sounded,
and it’s being heard,” she says.
Listening to and learning about the outcry
of the oceans is the mission of the Pew Institute, a partnership
between the
Rosenstiel School and the Philadelphia-based
Pew
Charitable
Trusts, which provided a $2.9 million per year
renewable grant for the endeavor. The institute
will sponsor
marine research,
consult on fishery management issues, promote
conservation solutions to governments and the public, and administer
the Pew Fellows Program in Marine Conservation.
Pew Fellows are
a select group of researchers, five per year
internationally
who receive $150,000 to develop innovative solutions
for serious problems affecting the seas. Pikitch
is among 133
Pew Fellows
chosen since the 1990 inception of the award.
“There’s a need for good scientists
to also be good citizens,” notes
Diane Thompson, a representative from the Pew Charitable
Trusts. “It’s
the whole concept of encouraging the scientific community
to engage in the process of public policy debate. That is what
we at the Pew Charitable Trusts see as one of the enormous
promises in our partnership with the University of Miami.” Communication Aids Collaboration
rompting
discussion about environmental issues among scientists, policymakers,
and the public at large also inspired
Sanjeev Chatterjee’s
latest endeavor, The Water Project. Chatterjee, associate professor
of broadcasting and broadcast journalism in the School of Communication,
spent four months last year in rural villages of South Africa,
India, the Canary Islands of Spain, Peru, and the United States
to capture images from regions where clean, safe water is scarce.
Chatterjee and colleagues produced a 20-minute, nonverbal high-definition
film infused with a moving score composed by Thomas Sleeper,
director of orchestral activities at the Phillip and Patricia
Frost School of Music. The film, One Water, was screened recently
at UN headquarters in New York City.
The Water Project is part of the Modern Media
Collaborative, which generates media projects that increase awareness
of social and environmental
issues. The Department of English in the College of Arts and
Sciences shows the film to students who are writing on environmental
topics,
and the best student efforts will appear on the Water Project
Web site. Chatterjee also hopes the film will bolster improvements
in the areas that need it most. Communication vehicles such as
films
are a necessary first step toward change, he says, because problems
are not always widely known. “People are very surprised
to see that some people are willingly bathing in very dirty water
and
drinking it at the same time.”
The media is playing an ever-larger role in
helping researchers communicate their discoveries. Just one or
two decades ago, the
popular press
rarely provided major coverage on new research
findings. Today daily newspapers and network television programs—not the scientific journals—are
the primary media for breaking news on scientific discoveries. 
Although the popular press can sometimes sensationalize
and distort true science, the
overall benefit is that scientific discussion is no longer
confined to the labs. The information gets to the people
who ultimately
support
science—the taxpayers.
Some of the greatest environmental success stories
were propelled by media exposure. Jacqueline Dixon cites depletion
of the
ozone layer from use of chemicals in aerosol sprays and
refrigerants. “The
companies responsible for producing these chemicals were reluctant
at first to admit the connection, but within a decade the science
was so compelling that they decided to act in advance of government
regulation. That’s a nutshell history of the 1992 Montreal
Protocol. It’s a great example of policy from the ground up … and
it pretty much solved the ‘big hair’ problem.”
It’s also an example of how society is learning from Mother
Nature’s design—that no one component in an ecosystem
can operate independently from the group. “I can’t suddenly
become a scientist,” Chatterjee says. “That’s
what they are doing. What we are doing is getting good information,
putting
it together, and communicating it the best way we can.”
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