by Paul Caputo
“Of all the things that confuse human beings, perhaps nothing trips us up so much as what it means for something to be simple or complex.”
At first glance, this quote from Jeffrey Kluger’s book Simplexity: Why Simple Things Become Complex (and How Complex Things Can Be Made Simple) seems easily refuted. Advanced calculus: complex. Basic addition and subtraction: simple. The science of the human digestive system: complex. Is ice cream delicious? Simple.
End of question. I win. Jeffrey Kluger loses.
It is with this approach to the world that I take to the streets on my bicycle every day for my commute to work. Biking to work: good for the environment. Driving to work: bad for the environment. Then I read something that called this frame of mind into question. By biking to work, I burn more calories than I would if I were sitting in a car. Using simple math (ha!) to figure the resources consumed to produce and transport the extra food my body requires for fuel, my environmentally friendly, fat-burning commute suddenly loses some of its luster.
It’s not that biking to work is not environmentally friendly; it’s just that it’s not that simple. Before I can consider my commute to work environmentally friendly, I must consider further choices about what type of materials my biking gear and supplies are made of, what the construction of bike trails in Fort Collins does to natural habitats, where my food originates, and surely many other factors that I haven’t yet thought of.
Sustainable tourism, as a concept, seems that it should be relatively simple: If you’re going to travel, patronize businesses and sites with a strong environmental ethic and don’t step on the endangered species. However, as you may have already guessed, it’s not that simple.
Sustainable tourism addresses the “triple bottom line” of environmental, social, and economic factors. A tourism destination that is truly sustainable does not simply minimize its carbon footprint and promote conservation; it preserves culture, unites communities, and provides financial benefits to those who live and work at or near a site. Consumers must consider whether the detriment to one of these bottom lines (for instance, the fuel used to travel to a site has a negative impact on the environment) outweighs the positive impact on another bottom line (the financial benefit to a community that hosts an interpretive site).
Further complicating the issue, even the terminology associated with sustainable tourism can be confusing. Green tourism, responsible tourism, contrarian travel, ecotourism, place-based tourism, and heritage tourism are just a few of the terms associated with this field. Because of a lack of consensus on specific definitions, these terms are used either interchangeably or as subsets of one another.
Then, as if this is not enough to consider, there’s “greenwashing,” a term coined in the mid-1980s by environmentalist Jay Westerveld, who was frustrated with hotels that promoted green practices but did not implement them. The term has come to encompass all organizations that use “green” buzz words to appeal to an increasingly environmentally aware public, but who do not actually implement environmentally friendly practices.
So, not only do consumers need to consider the environmental, social, and financial impacts of whatever type of socially responsible tourism they think they’re participating in, they need to investigate whether what they’re being told about the environmental practices of a particular site or business is actually true.
This issue of Legacy addresses a variety of perspectives, including the traveler wishing to engage in sustainable tourism, the tour operator that seeks to conserve the environment in which it operates, and the communities that welcome and rely upon tourists.
Like any socially responsible cause, sustainable tourism takes commitment from a variety of people and institutions, whether it’s the visitor making the determination to travel responsibly, the site or business promoting itself honestly and implementing appropriate practices, and even government agencies and leaders committing to serving their communities and protecting their natural and cultural habitat.
It’s simple, really. Or maybe it isn’t.
Paul Caputo can be reached at pcaputo@interpnet.com. Send letters to the editor intended for publication to legacy@interpnet.com.
