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Chesapeake Bay Blues: Science, Politics, and the Struggle to Save the Bay
The Chesapeake Bay restoration effort has been touted as the nation's premier environmental restoration program. Yet the Bay and the living systems it supports remain in dismally poor condition, with fisheries in decline and drinking water in danger. This book addresses the Chesapeake Bay as a political problem and reveals how the political process has worked against the interests of science, the public, and environmental advocates all at once. Author Howard Ernst shows that the forces driving environmental degradation are sown deeply into the political soul of America, posing menacing challenges to those fighting to restore large ecosystems like the Chesapeake Bay. The book serves as a political roadmap for the future, suggesting how a different course of policy action is needed to 'Save the Bay.'
- GenresNonfiction
220 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 2003
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Displaying 1 - 5 of 5 reviews
August 2, 2015
The Chesapeake Bay is an endangered estuary; everyone knows that, in theory. Yet even if you already knew that in the abstract, Chesapeake Bay Blues will make you very concretely aware of that unwelcome reality.
Author Howard R. Ernst, a political science professor at the United States Naval Academy in Annapolis, suggests that any attempt to manage the health of the Bay immediately runs into a wide array of problems – some of them scientific, but many of them political in nature. Politically speaking, the Chesapeake Bay watershed encompasses six states. For two of those states, Maryland and Virginia, the Bay sits at their geographic and historic heart; but four others (Delaware, Pennsylvania, West Virginia, and New York) have no Bay frontage at all, and therefore politicians in those states have little incentive to make the management of the Bay’s health a priority.
Moreover, the fact that politicians feel perpetually stretched for resources, and are always in need of votes, means that the health of the Bay often does not become a matter of general concern until a high-profile event – like the 1997 fish kill linked to a proliferation of the micro-organism Pfiesteria, a life form associated with Bay pollutants such as farm runoff – makes headlines and creates a sense of crisis. It is for these reasons that Ernst sees such a strong intersection among Science, Politics, and the Struggle to Save the Bay (the book's subtitle).
Because the industries that pollute the Bay are economically powerful and politically well-connected (agribusiness being a prime example), their power means that any attempt at forging a coherent environmental policy is hampered from the start. Politically, Ernst suggests, “The Bay’s greatest danger is the emergence of a cozy political partnership that provides plenty of opportunities for ‘success,’ but that produces few tangible environmental accomplishments” (p. 49).
Not one to let things get overly abstract, Ernst provides eminently practical examples of the impact of pollutants like nitrogen and phosphates entering the bay. The graphs and charts that he includes are telling, as when one graph reinforces Ernst’s point that “in recent years commercial fishermen have used more gear to catch fewer crabs than at any other time in history” (p. 94). Ernst points to the earlier collapse of the Chesapeake’s oyster industry and warns that “Without proper management and a healthy habitat, however, it may be only a matter of time before the [crab] population does in fact collapse” (p. 94).
The validity of Ernst’s conclusions, as set forth in this 2003 book, were brought home to me more than a decade after its publication; when my wife and I visited a Lower Delaware crab house with visiting family members from Texas, our party was informed (though not until after we had sat down and ordered drinks) that there were no hard-shell crabs available at the crab house. That experience could become more the norm than the exception, if the sensible recommendations that Ernst offers in Chapter 7, “Toward a Brighter Future for the Chesapeake Bay,” are not adopted.
The focus in Chesapeake Bay Blues is on public policy and the political process, and Ernst discusses these aspects of Chesapeake Bay preservation efforts very well. Yet I also found that Ernst provided me with a clearer sense of the science of Bay preservation than I have sometimes derived from more ostensibly scientific works.
Chesapeake Bay Blues made me think back to the year 2004, when Maryland Governor Robert Ehrlich, a Republican, worked with the state’s mainly Democratic General Assembly to pass the “flush tax,” a measure designed to upgrade the state’s sewage treatment plants. I was heartened by this example of across-the-aisle cooperation among politicians – a phenomenon that seems all too rare in 21st-century American politics. And a Baltimore Sun article from the time quoted an official of the Chesapeake Bay Foundation (an organization of which Ernst is sometimes quite critical) as saying that "This was a significant piece of legislation, no doubt about it….It started out as a great bill. It ended up being an incredible bill." Ernst, by contrast, was quoted in the same article as saying of the “flush tax” that “It's 20 years too late and five states short of what's necessary.” It is disturbing to wonder whether Ernst’s assessment may, in the long run, turn out to be the more accurate one.
If you care about the welfare of the Chesapeake Bay, and particularly if you are a fellow native of the Bay watershed, read Chesapeake Bay Blues; and when you have done so, don’t be surprised if you find yourself feeling that something needs to be done about the health of the Chesapeake Bay now rather than later.
Author Howard R. Ernst, a political science professor at the United States Naval Academy in Annapolis, suggests that any attempt to manage the health of the Bay immediately runs into a wide array of problems – some of them scientific, but many of them political in nature. Politically speaking, the Chesapeake Bay watershed encompasses six states. For two of those states, Maryland and Virginia, the Bay sits at their geographic and historic heart; but four others (Delaware, Pennsylvania, West Virginia, and New York) have no Bay frontage at all, and therefore politicians in those states have little incentive to make the management of the Bay’s health a priority.
Moreover, the fact that politicians feel perpetually stretched for resources, and are always in need of votes, means that the health of the Bay often does not become a matter of general concern until a high-profile event – like the 1997 fish kill linked to a proliferation of the micro-organism Pfiesteria, a life form associated with Bay pollutants such as farm runoff – makes headlines and creates a sense of crisis. It is for these reasons that Ernst sees such a strong intersection among Science, Politics, and the Struggle to Save the Bay (the book's subtitle).
Because the industries that pollute the Bay are economically powerful and politically well-connected (agribusiness being a prime example), their power means that any attempt at forging a coherent environmental policy is hampered from the start. Politically, Ernst suggests, “The Bay’s greatest danger is the emergence of a cozy political partnership that provides plenty of opportunities for ‘success,’ but that produces few tangible environmental accomplishments” (p. 49).
Not one to let things get overly abstract, Ernst provides eminently practical examples of the impact of pollutants like nitrogen and phosphates entering the bay. The graphs and charts that he includes are telling, as when one graph reinforces Ernst’s point that “in recent years commercial fishermen have used more gear to catch fewer crabs than at any other time in history” (p. 94). Ernst points to the earlier collapse of the Chesapeake’s oyster industry and warns that “Without proper management and a healthy habitat, however, it may be only a matter of time before the [crab] population does in fact collapse” (p. 94).
The validity of Ernst’s conclusions, as set forth in this 2003 book, were brought home to me more than a decade after its publication; when my wife and I visited a Lower Delaware crab house with visiting family members from Texas, our party was informed (though not until after we had sat down and ordered drinks) that there were no hard-shell crabs available at the crab house. That experience could become more the norm than the exception, if the sensible recommendations that Ernst offers in Chapter 7, “Toward a Brighter Future for the Chesapeake Bay,” are not adopted.
The focus in Chesapeake Bay Blues is on public policy and the political process, and Ernst discusses these aspects of Chesapeake Bay preservation efforts very well. Yet I also found that Ernst provided me with a clearer sense of the science of Bay preservation than I have sometimes derived from more ostensibly scientific works.
Chesapeake Bay Blues made me think back to the year 2004, when Maryland Governor Robert Ehrlich, a Republican, worked with the state’s mainly Democratic General Assembly to pass the “flush tax,” a measure designed to upgrade the state’s sewage treatment plants. I was heartened by this example of across-the-aisle cooperation among politicians – a phenomenon that seems all too rare in 21st-century American politics. And a Baltimore Sun article from the time quoted an official of the Chesapeake Bay Foundation (an organization of which Ernst is sometimes quite critical) as saying that "This was a significant piece of legislation, no doubt about it….It started out as a great bill. It ended up being an incredible bill." Ernst, by contrast, was quoted in the same article as saying of the “flush tax” that “It's 20 years too late and five states short of what's necessary.” It is disturbing to wonder whether Ernst’s assessment may, in the long run, turn out to be the more accurate one.
If you care about the welfare of the Chesapeake Bay, and particularly if you are a fellow native of the Bay watershed, read Chesapeake Bay Blues; and when you have done so, don’t be surprised if you find yourself feeling that something needs to be done about the health of the Chesapeake Bay now rather than later.
August 7, 2013
The Chesapeake Bay is an endangered estuary; everyone knows that, in theory. Yet even if you already knew that in the abstract, Chesapeake Bay Blues will make you very concretely aware of that unwelcome reality.
Author Howard R. Ernst, a political science professor at the United States Naval Academy in Annapolis, finds that any attempt to manage the health of the Bay immediately runs into a wide array of problems – some of them scientific, but many of them political in nature. Politically speaking, the Chesapeake Bay watershed encompasses six states. For two of those states, Maryland and Virginia, the Bay sits at their geographic and historic heart; but four others (Delaware, Pennsylvania, West Virginia, and New York) have no Bay frontage at all, and therefore politicians in those states have little incentive to make the management of the Bay’s health a priority.
Moreover, the fact of politicians feeling perpetually stretched for resources, and in need of votes, means that the health of the Bay often does not become a matter of general concern until a high-profile event – like the 1997 fish kill linked to a proliferation of the micro-organism Pfiesteria, a life form associated with Bay pollutants such as runoff from farms – hits the media and creates a sense of crisis.
Because the industries that pollute the Bay are economically powerful and politically well-connected (agribusiness being a prime example), their power means that any attempt at forging a coherent environmental policy is hampered from the start. Politically, Ernst suggests, “The Bay’s greatest danger is the emergence of a cozy political partnership that provides plenty of opportunities for ‘success,’ but that produces few tangible environmental accomplishments” (p. 49).
Not one to let things get overly abstract, Ernst provides eminently practical examples of the impact of pollutants like nitrogen and phosphates entering the bay. The graphs and charts that he includes are telling, as when one graph reinforces Ernst’s point that “in recent years commercial fishermen have used more gear to catch fewer crabs than at any other time in history” (p. 94). Ernst points to the earlier collapse of the Chesapeake’s oyster industry and warns that “Without proper management and a healthy habitat, however, it may be only a matter of time before the [crab] population does in fact collapse” (p. 94). The validity of Ernst’s conclusions, as set forth in this 2003 book, were brought home to me earlier in this year of grace 2014, when, visiting a Delmarva Peninsula crab house with my wife and my brother-in-law and sister-in-law, I and my family were informed (though not until after we had sat down) that there were no hard-shell crabs available at the crab house. That experience could become more the norm than the exception, if the sensible recommendations that Ernst offers in Chapter 7, “Toward a Brighter Future for the Chesapeake Bay,” are not adopted.
The focus in Chesapeake Bay Blues is on public policy and the political process, and Ernst discusses these aspects of Chesapeake Bay preservation efforts very well. Yet I also found that Ernst provided me with a clearer sense of the science of Bay preservation than I have sometimes derived from more ostensibly scientific works.
Chesapeake Bay Blues made me think back to the year 2004, when Maryland Governor Robert Ehrlich, a Republican, worked with the state’s mainly Democratic General Assembly to pass the “flush tax,” a measure designed to upgrade the state’s sewage treatment plants. I was heartened by this example of across-the-aisle cooperation among politicians – a phenomenon that seems all too rare in 21st-century American politics. And a Baltimore Sun article from the time quoted an official of the Chesapeake Bay Foundation (an organization of which Ernst is sometimes quite critical) as saying that "This was a significant piece of legislation, no doubt about it….It started out as a great bill. It ended up being an incredible bill." Ernst, by contrast, was quoted in the same article as saying of the “flush tax” that “It's 20 years too late and five states short of what's necessary.” It is disturbing to contemplate that Ernst’s assessment may, in the long run, turn out to be the more accurate one.
If you care about the welfare of the Chesapeake Bay, and particularly if you are a fellow native of the Bay watershed, read Chesapeake Bay Blues; and when you have done so, don’t be surprised if you feel that something needs to be done about the health of the Chesapeake Bay now rather than later.
Author Howard R. Ernst, a political science professor at the United States Naval Academy in Annapolis, finds that any attempt to manage the health of the Bay immediately runs into a wide array of problems – some of them scientific, but many of them political in nature. Politically speaking, the Chesapeake Bay watershed encompasses six states. For two of those states, Maryland and Virginia, the Bay sits at their geographic and historic heart; but four others (Delaware, Pennsylvania, West Virginia, and New York) have no Bay frontage at all, and therefore politicians in those states have little incentive to make the management of the Bay’s health a priority.
Moreover, the fact of politicians feeling perpetually stretched for resources, and in need of votes, means that the health of the Bay often does not become a matter of general concern until a high-profile event – like the 1997 fish kill linked to a proliferation of the micro-organism Pfiesteria, a life form associated with Bay pollutants such as runoff from farms – hits the media and creates a sense of crisis.
Because the industries that pollute the Bay are economically powerful and politically well-connected (agribusiness being a prime example), their power means that any attempt at forging a coherent environmental policy is hampered from the start. Politically, Ernst suggests, “The Bay’s greatest danger is the emergence of a cozy political partnership that provides plenty of opportunities for ‘success,’ but that produces few tangible environmental accomplishments” (p. 49).
Not one to let things get overly abstract, Ernst provides eminently practical examples of the impact of pollutants like nitrogen and phosphates entering the bay. The graphs and charts that he includes are telling, as when one graph reinforces Ernst’s point that “in recent years commercial fishermen have used more gear to catch fewer crabs than at any other time in history” (p. 94). Ernst points to the earlier collapse of the Chesapeake’s oyster industry and warns that “Without proper management and a healthy habitat, however, it may be only a matter of time before the [crab] population does in fact collapse” (p. 94). The validity of Ernst’s conclusions, as set forth in this 2003 book, were brought home to me earlier in this year of grace 2014, when, visiting a Delmarva Peninsula crab house with my wife and my brother-in-law and sister-in-law, I and my family were informed (though not until after we had sat down) that there were no hard-shell crabs available at the crab house. That experience could become more the norm than the exception, if the sensible recommendations that Ernst offers in Chapter 7, “Toward a Brighter Future for the Chesapeake Bay,” are not adopted.
The focus in Chesapeake Bay Blues is on public policy and the political process, and Ernst discusses these aspects of Chesapeake Bay preservation efforts very well. Yet I also found that Ernst provided me with a clearer sense of the science of Bay preservation than I have sometimes derived from more ostensibly scientific works.
Chesapeake Bay Blues made me think back to the year 2004, when Maryland Governor Robert Ehrlich, a Republican, worked with the state’s mainly Democratic General Assembly to pass the “flush tax,” a measure designed to upgrade the state’s sewage treatment plants. I was heartened by this example of across-the-aisle cooperation among politicians – a phenomenon that seems all too rare in 21st-century American politics. And a Baltimore Sun article from the time quoted an official of the Chesapeake Bay Foundation (an organization of which Ernst is sometimes quite critical) as saying that "This was a significant piece of legislation, no doubt about it….It started out as a great bill. It ended up being an incredible bill." Ernst, by contrast, was quoted in the same article as saying of the “flush tax” that “It's 20 years too late and five states short of what's necessary.” It is disturbing to contemplate that Ernst’s assessment may, in the long run, turn out to be the more accurate one.
If you care about the welfare of the Chesapeake Bay, and particularly if you are a fellow native of the Bay watershed, read Chesapeake Bay Blues; and when you have done so, don’t be surprised if you feel that something needs to be done about the health of the Chesapeake Bay now rather than later.
April 13, 2007
The author came to our school last semester to give a lecture about the politics about the Bay. It sounded interesting so when I saw the book in the school library, I checked it out. It was a pretty fast read despite the subject matter, though that might be because I'm a public policy major so I was used to policy case studies. Ernst's hypothesis is that the current policy is not enough to "Save the Bay." Instead, Ernst calls for greater and stricter political regulation. He emphasizes the need for the Chesapeake Bay Foundation, the largest Bay organization in the watershed, to take a political stance - something that it is currently unwilling to do so because of possible backlash from members.
The book is a very nice overview of what is wrong with our current policy. I highly recommend this for anyone who lives in the Chesapeake Bay watershed, which is Maryland, Virginia, Delaware, Pennsylvania, and parts of New York, as well as anyone interested in policy or politics, particularly environmental.
The book is a very nice overview of what is wrong with our current policy. I highly recommend this for anyone who lives in the Chesapeake Bay watershed, which is Maryland, Virginia, Delaware, Pennsylvania, and parts of New York, as well as anyone interested in policy or politics, particularly environmental.
May 10, 2011
I thought this did a good job of explaining the social, political, and economic problems behind actually fixing the pollution and damage in the Chesapeake. The science on what is wrong is clear, the actual, practical solutions are not. This helped explain the reasons why things in the Bay are very difficult to fix: from the farmers to the residents to the fishermen, there are serious consequences to the changes that they have to face.
August 12, 2008
very readable for non poli-sci/ public policy students. makes the case that current conservation efforts are inadequate and that much of the blame lies with the political infrastructure. offers possible solutions to address these shortcomings.
Displaying 1 - 5 of 5 reviews





