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Reclaiming Water as a Commons
By Darryl Birkenfeld, Ph.D.   © 2003

  Though the High Plains is a vast semi-arid region, the modern society that we know today grew out of an ancient commonwealth of water. When human beings first wandered across the Llano country, they drank from the springs and pools along the Yellowhouse and Blackwater Draws, two watersheds that converge north of the Texas Tech University campus. These surface water sources were tethered to the Ogallala Aquifer, the world's largest freshwater aquifer, currently underlying approximately 174,000 square miles in parts of eight Great Plains states. Composed almost entirely of fossil water from the primeval uplift of the Rocky Mountains, the Ogallala Aquifer also evolved with an amazingly slow but steady recharge system, made possible by thousands of playa lakes that dot the region. Because of clay basins with large cracks and their dry/wet cycles, these playa lakes allow some water to filter back into the aquifer.

  Dominated by shortgrass prairie and plagued by periodic droughts, the Southern Plains still possessed a hydrology that enabled Native American hunters and Hispanic New Mexicans to gather plentiful sustenance from its ecological wealth for several centuries. Traveling across a land devoid of large rivers or permanent lakes, Hispanic traders gave poetic names to the Llano water commonwealth such as: Ojo del Llano (Plains Spring), Laguna Plata (Silver Lake) and Arroyo Aqua Corriente (Running Water Draw). Ironically, the very same country was named the "Great American Zahara" by 19th century Anglo explorers.

  In the 20th century, springs and draws were the first places that ranchers claimed and privatized as permanent settlement began. By the 1950s, deep well irrigation created an agricultural bonanza on the Llano, but resulted in a severe decline in the Ogallala Aquifer's water level. In the wake of the boom, most of the shortgrass prairie disappeared, draws were filled in and dammed, springs flows slowed and dried up, and playas were altered by road building and sedimentation from soil erosion. Though abundant water was the lifeblood of the new society erected on the High Plains, a somewhat unforeseen consequence that occurred was the carving up and diminishment of an integrated water cycle. Nowadays, groundwater levels in the High Plains region decline annually anywhere from half a foot to several feet; and recharge, when compared to such rapid depletion, is negligible or nonexistent.

  John Wesley Powell, the first head of the United States Geological Survey, had predicted the dangers of water depletion in the western U.S. more than a century earlier. Around the time of his Report on Arid Lands made to Congress in 1876, he advocated that states west of the 100th Meridian be organized as "watershed commonwealths," according to river watersheds instead of rigid political boundaries like states in the East. Even though Powell's advice was not heeded, we who face the daunting challenges of water use and depletion in this new century are left to ponder the possibilities of a "watershed commonwealth" in the High Plains.

  Can we reclaim water as a commons in today's complex society, especially in the state of Texas where "rule of capture" is the guiding principle for groundwater law? It depends on what one means by the word commons. The commons as that which is not legally owned or controlled by private entities--things like air, public lands, oceans, and yes, public water supplies. From another perspective, any practice of the commons seems foolish and anarchical in the eyes of many free enterprise proponents. "You can't trust management by the masses or by a bureaucracy," many would opine. This follows the view popularized by Garret Hardin's "tragedy of the commons" theory1. In a capitalist system, attempts at commons-use management are mistakenly decried as "communism" or at the very least, state socialism. But this framework is much too narrow to describe the commons that are at the heart of civilizations and communities.

  Viewed broadly, the commons is the topos or place that defined a node within a network where many levels and types of interactions take place and are integrated. "The commons is the place in which dynamic natural history evolves, diversifies and complexifies, and the base from which cultural history develops in all its intricacy."2 Historically, the commons was understood as a place in or near a village that was not privately owned and could be used by all inhabitants, such as a pasture for grazing animals. It was also the place where two rivers or streams converged and trading centers or villages emerged. In the field of geo-political planning, the term bio-regionalism is increasingly being employed to define the topos/place where key interactions between the natural and social ecology intersect to form the commons or homeland. The rich history of the commons holds much promise for responding to the challenges of water use and preservation.

  On a philosophical level, the commons, as the foundation of community and polity, is a place of interchange, of enrichment. Despite modern historical examples to the contrary, the commons is not primarily an arena for profiteering through raw material extraction. It is a living endowment that humans can use wisely and carefully, but not something we can own or exhaust. The commons is a place where the entire community of creation is energized, rather than impoverished or exploited. Truly, the commons exists for the common good, providing common goods for the benefit of the world.

  The commons thrives when there exists an atmosphere of "common sense" nurtured by education, formation, and beauty...realities that are best sustained by diverse cultures and vibrant arts. When these wellsprings of education and arts are flourishing, there is a firm basis for an economy and an ecology of sustainability. At its most authentic level, the commons appears as an ongoing conversation, and an invitation to conversion. The commons can be neither established nor maintained by special interest groups, but only by "common interest" and its subsequent partners: sacrifice and humility. The law of the commons is generativity, not greed, and the fundamental actions in the commons are based on dominion and not domination...on home-building and husbandry that preserve the world of being.

  A full illustration of the commons requires more than historical analysis and philosophical ideas. We must dig deep into the level of the poetic, employing metaphors to adequately describe the commons and how it can work. Therefore, the commons could be likened to a tree grounded by the sturdy taproots of partnership, education, and creative enterprise. In this way, the commons is a home for all life, a house that is inclusive and diverse. The commons is also like a bank, where gifts and capital of all types are offered/deposited, in order to generate new wealth from the base principle.

  The language of theology and spirituality is also insightful in evoking the commons, giving it a much needed ethical context. In early Christianity, St. Gregory of Nazianzen, one of the leading Greek Fathers, preached eloquently in regards to the commons. "To all earth's creatures, God has given the broad earth, the springs, the rivers, the forests. God has given the air to the birds, and the waters to those who live in water. God has given abundantly to all the basic needs of life, not as private possession, not restricted by law, not divided by boundaries, but as common to all, amply and in rich measure."3 In a more contemporary writing on the commons, theologian John Hart clearly evokes its radical inclusivity. "The commons is shared habitat and shared place for all, and its human inhabitants are responsible for caring about it and for it where they live and work, and when they are engaged with it, intervening in it, or altering it to meet their needs or the needs of other creatures."4

  Drawing from these different currents of philosophy, history, poetry, and spirituality demonstrates how powerful a renewed notion of the commons can be for conserving the fragile water of the High Plains. Advocating for the commons does not mean getting rid of private property. On the contrary, the commons is a harkening back to an older understanding of ownership predating capitalism. According to St. Thomas Aquinas, private property is a right of all people, yet one that carries a higher obligation, a social mortgage. In other words, one cannot own private property and reject its contingent responsibilities toward society--requirements of the polity that are intertwined with ownership. In the present age, our social mortgage is a responsibility that we owe not only to human beings, but to all creatures...the nonhuman community of creation. A social mortgage broadly described here is really not a hindrance to economic development as much as it is a recipe for citizen empowerment and regional interdependence. Ultimately, the key question posed by a vision of the commons is not primarily one of ownership (Who owes the commons?) but rather, one of belonging (How do we belong to the commons?).

  According to forecasts that extend out to 2040, there will not be enough water in Texas (or any other Plains states) to meet the burgeoning demands of a growing human population while maintaining necessary environmental flows for natural habitats.5 When it comes to water, continuing along down the same path that we have been trodding in the 20th century will lead to depletion. Finding ways to reclaim and renew water as a commons would be a better road to walk. Some concerned citizens have recently begun a community development resource network for revitalizing depressed economies in the High Plains region of the Great Plains, based on the idea of the commons. The resource network is called Ogallala Commons (www.ogallalacommons.org). The leaders of Ogallala Commons view the High Plains region (stretching from White River, South Dakota in the north to Midland, Texas in the south) not as something that is divided politically into eight states, but as a "watershed commonwealth" foreseen by John Wesley Powell. This year, Ogallala Commons will host two public education conferences on water, one in Ogallala, Nebraska on Oct. 10th, and one in Nazareth, Texas on February 7, 2004 (see related article). In 2003, Ogallala Commons has begun work in four key areas: partnership building, educational outreach, celebration of cultures and arts that foster a sense of place, and incubating projects for self-reliant communities. Year by year, Ogallala Commons is looking forward to working with its partners like the Southwest Collection to reclaim the commonwealth of water that is the basis for any sustainable future.    (This text is copyrighted material, 2003.)


Footnotes:      

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See Garret Hardin, "The Tragedy of the Commons" in Science, Vol. 162, no. 13 (December 1968): 1243- 8.

John Hart, "Living Water: A Sacramental Commons" in Catholic Rural Life, Vol. 45, no. 2 (2003): 7.

t. Gregory of Nazianzen, "Oratio 14: De Pauperum Amore" in The Liturgy of the Hours, Vol. II (New York: Catholic Book Publishing Company, 1976), 96-97. Italics mine.

John Hart," Living Water", 8.

See "Texas: The State of Water" in Texas Parks & Wildlife Magazine, Vol. 60, no. 7 (July 2002).