Outdoor education and travel professionals that are contemplative and serious about their work often find themselves grappling with an existential equation on a regular basis. As I approach the seven year anniversary of my first job in environmental education, now seems as appropriate a time as ever to really grapple with the calculus involved and air my feelings on the matter. Does the sum total of my impact on the lives of people and the conservation movement exceed the harm my work does? On one hand, I have a direct line of communication with thousands of people every year through which I am able to testify on the almost divine grandeur of nature. There is no fire and brimstone in these testimonies - and the beauty of the story unfolding before our eyes need not be painstakingly carved into marble or shaped into stained glass to be appreciated. It is there beneath every leaf and in every cubic foot of soil. Chiefly, my job is to bring that story to those willing to hear it and share it is as authentic a fashion possible. I consider myself good at this work, but still doubts persist. After tens of thousands of miles worth of flights, I wonder about the effectiveness of nebulous carbon offset promises. As I sit within view of a glacier eating avocado and watermelon far closer to the Arctic Circle than to the equator, questions of sustainability gnaw much like the mosquitoes beyond my window.

Though I’ve framed this question with mathematical, cost-benefits verbiage, there is truly no way to arrive at an an objective answer. This makes the endeavor all the more frustrating. In many ways, just asking the question drives me insane. The fact that the answer isn’t obviously “Yes, you are maximizing your potential to positively impact the world” is infuriating and cause for deep reflection. Yet the mere act of reflection shows a commitment to the principles that led me to pursue this work. If the work had such glaringly negative externalities, I would have ceased to perform it long ago.

I have written on this before, but an interesting part of my work is that I have very little by way of tracking the fruits of my labor. Casting people adrift with messages for conservation is much akin to blowing dandelion seeds across the meadow. I have certainly catalyzed the potential for growth, but whether or not potential will be realized is beyond my purview. So, too, are the components of my expeditions that predate my arrival. The sourcing of food, building of ships, travel to destinations mundane and exotic - I can speak in no certain terms about the human or environmental impact of any of this.

This isn’t an idea unique to my life or my profession. I believe that people are overwhelmingly good and seek to do the most good they possibly can. The concept of tossing and turning at night in fear of being insignificant or an unsightly blemish on the good you seek to enact is, I suspect, universal. It is the reason why we have sayings and stories about practicing what one preaches. Resigned to never knowing exactly what impact I will have, my current working model is to do all I can each day to offset whatever negatives I bring to my world.