by Lou Hass

Is growth essential to the Centre Region’s prosperity?

The problem with urban expansion is that most of us perceive it through myopic eyes. We recklessly barge ahead looking at tomorrow or next year or even the next decade without somehow sensing, or perhaps ignoring, the long-term consequences of our decisions. We fail to recognize that, barring natural catastrophes (droughts, earthquakes, hurricanes, floods, etc.), humankind has advanced to the point where, for the most part, it is capable of not only controlling its own environment, but that of the entire biosphere as well. This is indeed frightening because if we destroy the latter, we will surely obliterate ourselves.

Despite its sophistication, the human community, in general, still perceives itself as being totally separate from, rather than an integral part of, the biocentric norm. As a result, the archaic notion that anthropocentric growth represents progress stubbornly persists.

One of the most foreboding aspects of anthropocentrism is the realization that many of our influential leaders belong to a consortium of shortsighted, “progress-minded” individuals whose collective interests reside in aggressively promoting growth—not for the common good, but for purely personal gain. Without batting an eye, these are the individuals who would strip a mountain naked, blast its heart out and ultimately crush the pieces to make a roadbed. These are the “public benefactors” who would hack down an ancient, majestic oak simply because it is in the way and “has stood there long enough anyway.” These are the illustrious “patrons of progress” who would wittingly destroy the life of a stream to build a dam, a road or a bridge. They are the developers, clearcutters, contractors, bankers, architects, quarry owners, realtors and building suppliers who couldn’t care less about the impact of growth on the welfare of the land. Moreover, they are masters of propaganda.

Consider, for example, the words of a well-known State College architect expressed during an address to a public forum on growth and sprawl in Centre County: “Growth is under way and we can’t stop it, but I’d like to see the management of growth occur in a way that doesn’t stop attracting people to this area.”

To some, the above statement will sound benignly compromising when, in reality, it is a simplistic, cyclic expression for the perpetuation of urban metastasis. People, such as our architect, are the engines that power the “Urban Growth Machine.” These people tend to be wealthy, organized and politically influential: They’re to be regarded with a wary eye.

One can reasonably argue that because the Centre Region is part of an unusually attractive area and the seat of a large, prestigious university, expansive growth is inevitable. Undeniably, Penn State, with its 43,000 plus students and its 10,400 staff, has been the prime mover for such growth over the past five decades.

The amazing irony of the Penn State scenario, however, is that instead of encouraging growth, the University puts the Centre Region in an incredibly unique position to experience immense prosperity without extensive proliferation. How is that possible? The answer lies with the less than arcane concept of inviting visitors to the area and subsequently encouraging them to depart after a moderate sojourn. Some refer to this as tourism, but with the University’s extensive cultural and athletic programs in place, it is indeed that and more. For example, Penn State football alone attracts hundreds of thousands of spectators who, in turn, contribute tens of millions in revenue to the local economy each year. Multiply this by the dozens of other money-generating campus events and one is forced to acknowledge the enormity of a regional, academically-spawned affluence—an affluence whereby the indigenous ambiance remains in a dynamic steady state; that is, neither expanding nor contracting, but sustaining a continuous ingress and egress of people.

“The steady-state principle” is equally applicable to the university’s circumambience as well. The region’s all-encompassing panorama of hills, streams, forests, meadows and farms is poetry without words...to be enjoyed by all, and especially by big-city dwellers who claim the monolithic concrete jungle as home. Uncorrupted areas such as ours will always be pursued by individuals who wish to experience nature’s solace through activities such as hunting, fishing, birding, hiking, camping, kayaking, skiing, bicycling or, for that matter, simply touring. But one of the most fascinating aspects of our locale is that, over the years, it has generated a plethora of places and events that are particularly enticing to leisure-seeking people (e.g., arts festivals, farmers markets, museums, state parks, antique villages, golf courses, historic sites, summer playhouses, ski areas, winter festivals, gourmet restaurants, grange fairs, etc.). From experience, we know that tourist participation in all of these attractions contributes immensely to the local coffers (over $500 million yearly). But, without growth-delimiting regulations in place, the area eventually will fall prey to urban proliferation. When that occurs, many attractions will be subsumed, leaving some coffers devastatingly bare. We will have begun to destroy the eco-tourism that we have worked so long and so hard to develop.

Before it is too late, now is the time to emulate other conservation-minded communities across the nation and adopt the prosaic philosophy so often expressed on their road signs, “Welcome! Enjoy our beautiful area, and when you’re finished, go home.”

Lou Hass is an emeritus professor of Biological Chemistry at the M.S. Hershey Medical Center.