Water Works 53 - 9/7/04

We Finally Explain What We’ve Been Up To Here

“There are some enterprises in which a careful disorderliness is the true method.” – Moby-Dick.

Having reached our second Labor Day since this series began, we seem to have held the NJDEP off for another year. What’s left of Quakertown’s water is probably out of danger until next spring. All we know for sure is that Trenton is taking much longer to move forward with its plans than anyone expected. But unaccustomed as I am to optimism about anything, and at the risk of mistaking whatever may be going on down there for thinking, even I’ve conceded that we have gained the upper hand in this affair.

You could not have guessed that from anything you read here. It took a while to get used to it myself. When I was working on our last episode I was certain the state was only days away from finally inflicting even more harm on the Lockatong watershed than it already has, despite obvious hints I was wrong.

Governor McGreevey dropped a big one back in July when he finally made official Lockatong Creek’s designation as a C-1 stream (36), in a public ceremony and photo-op in Hunterdon that few people here had a chance to read about and almost no one saw. Local newspapers were left reprinting the statehouse press release describing that long-awaited event, and the original sponsor of the Lockatong’s promotion wasn’t invited to the alleged celebration.

Which is the kind of stunt that has to make you wonder what kind of huckleberries the folks in Trenton take us for – until you see the implied compliment. If the governor’s people knew anything about Franklin Township they at least expected a picket line, but making politicians hide is not considered a big deal around here. We’ve been doing that for years. What convinced me that Franklin may be winning this fight was a report from one of our scouts that copies of Water Works had been spotted in the case files of the NJDEP, which is something completely different.

All that Water Works ever set out to do – aside from my efforts to keep you awake along the way – was to explain the basic facts in this controversy, show you how the state exercised its duties, and ask whether the NJDEP’s actions here meet the minimal standards for competence, due diligence and ethical conduct we should expect from the state agency charged with the mission of protecting all of New Jersey’s water – including ours. (50-52)

I believe I established beyond doubt that the state failed that test. I’m sure the NJDEP would disagree, but now that Water Works is part of their official record, what the state’s Bureau of Water Allocation and Geologic Survey can’t do is claim ignorance of the questions raised here about how they discharged their responsibilities. That’s about all I can hope to accomplish with the NJDEP, which means my job is done until we see what happens next. We may be in for a long wait, so except for occasional updates our story is effectively over too.

We still have plenty to talk about. For example, I paid less attention than I probably should have to the larger, regional context in which our story was set (43-44) (i), and if the recent controversy over the Jersey Highlands is any indication, there is still a lot of folklore about water that needs debunking. I was surprised to learn just how widespread the notion is – even among people who don’t work at the Bureau of Water Allocation – that the water New Jersey drinks comes from something akin to a vast, underground sea. Another bit of science fiction which should be put to rest is the idea that when we run out of groundwater we will simply pump more from the Delaware River. If we don’t come up with something better than magic incantations of that sort we will be out of water sooner than we think.

There’s nothing new about New Jersey’s problems with water, including the worst news – our future runs out the day we run out of groundwater within our borders. Everything else has been spoken for. The largest watershed feeding New York City flows to the Delaware River, not the Hudson. They’ve had that locked up for nearly 80 years – New Jersey sued and lost. More than 40 years ago, one of the most influential works on metropolitan land use ever published warned us we sat smack in the middle of the largest concentration of modern urbanization in the world (ii) – but you can’t sue someone for that. And if you think the Highlands Water Protection Act is a fine idea, think of the state planners who first suggested those watersheds would be important someday and how they must feel – if any are still living – about all the progress we’ve made since 1934. (iii)

But I’m getting ahead of myself, and getting over-excited again. Spinning tales so tall that I can barely believe them is harder work than you imagine. Fact-checking them is murder. This whole business has taken its toll on all of us here for a year and a half now, and we’re all very tired. Both Fellow Correspondent and I have been left at wit’s end more often than either of us would care to make routine, unless we had the spare time to enjoy it. Wilfredo hardly shows up for work anymore. No, instead of sounding exasperated I should be celebrating.

This turn of events gives Water Works a chance to return to our roots in a way. The relatively straightforward editorials I began with – before things got completely out of hand – make a much more appropriate format to address what I will talk about next. It will take some practice, but doing the policy-wonk again and sounding like any normal op-ed guy is something I’ve been looking forward to. And I’m long overdue to break the habit I’ve picked up of referring to myself here as a character called “Water Works,” before that apparently harmless, stylistic tic grows into a serious character (“But I am Water Works!” – Stop that!) disorder.

“If I’d a knowed what a trouble it was to make a book I wouldn’t a tackled it, and ain’t a-going to no more.” It’s time we moved on too. We’ll put Red Green’s territory behind us, and light out for Mr. David Brooks’ neighborhood. Until we get there, you may have some catching up ahead of you. (Episodes 50-52, at least.) Don’t feel as if I’ve dropped all the hard work on your desktop though. Remember, while you’re wrestling with that I’ll be the one working out in a starched shirt – learning to adopt more civilized ways and trying to slouch less when I type. I can stand it. I’ve been there before.

Ron Gutkowski