An article, published in the...
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An article, published in the Atlantic Monthly magazine, tells of a valley near the
small town of Fowler, Kansas, known as the Artesian Valley. The reason for the valley's
name is the artesian wells, or springs, that are plentiful there. As one longtime resident
describes it (or, at least, as he describes the way things used to be): "There were hundreds
of natural springs in this valley. If you drilled a well for your house, the natural water
pressure was enough to go through your hot-water system and out the shower head."
The authors of this article explain that, back in the 1920s, there were marshes in the Artesian Valley of Kansas where cattle used to sink up to their bellies in mud. But no longer. The bogs and springs of years past are gone, and the inhabitants of the valley must dig ever-deeper wells to bring up water.
You can clearly see the reason for this from the air. If you fly over this part of Kansas in a plane, you can see hundreds upon hundreds of green discs, each one surrounded by barren areas of brown. Each of the discs represents the area covered by a mobile irrigation system that circles around a central pivot. The more years these irrigation systems operate, the more the underground aquifer becomes depleted -- and the more difficult it becomes for all the farmers to draw the water they need.
The authors of the Atlantic Monthly article compare this midwestern agricultural valley with another valley that shares similar geographical characteristics: the region around the city of Valencia, in Spain: "... the waters of the River Turia are shared by some 15,000 farmers in an arrangement that dates back at least 550 years and probably longer. Each farmer, when his turn comes, takes as much water as he needs from the distributory canal and wastes none. He is discouraged from cheating -- watering out of turn -- merely by the watchful eyes of his neighbors above and below him on the canal. If they have a grievance, they can take it to the Tribunal de las Aguas, which meets on Thursday mornings outside the apostles' door of the Cathedral of Valencia. Records dating back to the 1400s suggest that cheating is rare. The huerta of Valencia is a profitable region, growing at least two crops a year.
Two irrigation systems: one sustainable, equitable, and long-lived, the other a doomed free-for-all. Two case histories cited by political scientists who struggle to understand the persistent human failure to solve "common-pool resource problems."
The only way to avoid abuse is self-restraint. And yet nobody knows how best to persuade the human race to exercise self-restraint. Sometimes we must be partners in assuring that "waters shall break forth in the wilderness" (Isaiah 35:6).
(From Matt Ridley and Bobbi S. Low, The Atlantic Monthly, September 1993.)
The authors of this article explain that, back in the 1920s, there were marshes in the Artesian Valley of Kansas where cattle used to sink up to their bellies in mud. But no longer. The bogs and springs of years past are gone, and the inhabitants of the valley must dig ever-deeper wells to bring up water.
You can clearly see the reason for this from the air. If you fly over this part of Kansas in a plane, you can see hundreds upon hundreds of green discs, each one surrounded by barren areas of brown. Each of the discs represents the area covered by a mobile irrigation system that circles around a central pivot. The more years these irrigation systems operate, the more the underground aquifer becomes depleted -- and the more difficult it becomes for all the farmers to draw the water they need.
The authors of the Atlantic Monthly article compare this midwestern agricultural valley with another valley that shares similar geographical characteristics: the region around the city of Valencia, in Spain: "... the waters of the River Turia are shared by some 15,000 farmers in an arrangement that dates back at least 550 years and probably longer. Each farmer, when his turn comes, takes as much water as he needs from the distributory canal and wastes none. He is discouraged from cheating -- watering out of turn -- merely by the watchful eyes of his neighbors above and below him on the canal. If they have a grievance, they can take it to the Tribunal de las Aguas, which meets on Thursday mornings outside the apostles' door of the Cathedral of Valencia. Records dating back to the 1400s suggest that cheating is rare. The huerta of Valencia is a profitable region, growing at least two crops a year.
Two irrigation systems: one sustainable, equitable, and long-lived, the other a doomed free-for-all. Two case histories cited by political scientists who struggle to understand the persistent human failure to solve "common-pool resource problems."
The only way to avoid abuse is self-restraint. And yet nobody knows how best to persuade the human race to exercise self-restraint. Sometimes we must be partners in assuring that "waters shall break forth in the wilderness" (Isaiah 35:6).
(From Matt Ridley and Bobbi S. Low, The Atlantic Monthly, September 1993.)
