You have taken care of the million-dollar question when it points out that both bills call for $1 million, H.R. 25 and this one.

The other point which strikes me rather forcibly is that H.R. 25 was even less of a 2-year bill than this one is because H.R. 25 calls for authorizations for 2 specific fiscal years. It doesn't start with the date of enactment. It says 2 specific fiscal years.

Furthermore, under H.R. 25 the Secretary of the Interior is required to submit his report no later than January 30, 1970. Time is marching on and, although the bill has passed the House, it still has not passed the Senate.

Mr. LENNON. Will the gentleman yield at that point?

Mr. DREWRY. I yield.

Mr. LENNON. I meant to bring up that question, too. Has the Department of the Interior notified our counterpart in the Senate of its support of H.R. 25 and asked for immediate action on this legislation? Mr. FINNEGAN. The Senate committee has asked for our report on the bill. We have not cleared the report through the Budget Bureau. Mr. LENNON. That has been about 60 days ago that the House passed

it.

Mr. FINNEGAN. I don't recall the exact date, sir.

Mr. LENNON. February 8.

Yes, it has been 2 months ago.

Mr. FINNEGAN. The Senate committee has asked for a new report on the bill.

Mr. LENNON. Do you have the report in yet?

Mr. FINNEGAN. We have already reported to them, sir, on H.R. 25. When we reported to your committee, we gave them the copies of our report, but they have now asked for a report on the House-passed bill which has some differences from what we had recommended last August.

Mr. LENNON. I hope you get it to them.

Mr. FINNEGAN. Yes; we will. We will expedite it.

Mr. LENNON. I want, through people from 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue on down, to get moving on it.

Mr. LENNON. The next witness is Dr. Edward Deevey, Head of the Environmental and Systematic Biology, National Science Foundation. Doctor, do you have a prepared statement?

STATEMENT OF DR. EDWARD DEEVEY, HEAD, ENVIRONMENTAL AND SYSTEMATIC BIOLOGY SECTION, DIVISION OF BIOLOGICAL AND MEDICAL SCIENCE, ACCOMPANIED BY NORRIS HOYT, OFFICE OF THE GENERAL COUNSEL, NATIONAL SCIENCE FOUNDATION

Dr. DEEVEY. Yes, sir; I do.

Mr. LENNON. The members will find the copies of the doctor's statement in the folder, gentlemen.

Go right ahead, Doctor. I am sorry we are so late getting to you. Dr. DEEVEY. Mr. Chairman, my name is Edward Deevey. I am Head of the Section of Environmental and Systematic Biology, National Science Foundation. To be precise, I am on temporary duty in that position, being on sabbatical leave from an academic post.

I have with me today a representative from the Office of the General Counsel, Mr. Norris Hoyt.

As a biologist and professor, I am particularly grateful for the opportunity to appear before you to speak on H.R. 11584 and several similar bills that would authorize the Marine Sanctuaries Study Act. Although I speak as a working scientist and will not attempt to address myself to organizational matters or details, I believe I speak for a large number of scientists when I endorse the general purpose of these bills, which is to study and preserve the vitally important but still largely unknown aquatic resources of our Great Lakes, coastal margins, and continental shelves. With respect to the specific provisions of these bills, however, and in particular to the assignment of the responsibilities called for to the Secretary of the Interior, I would prefer to defer to the position being taken by that Department.

There are many reasons for preserving segments of the marine environment, free of such human disturbances as would destroy their character. One thinks first of coastal areas, where scenic and other recreational values become harder to enjoy as more people learn to enjoy them, and where existing property values are threatened by changes in hydrology, by redistribution of sand and mud, or by the more obvious forms of pollution. Commercial and sports fisheries belong mainly to the coastal zone, and constant vigilance is needed to protect them against inadvertent damage, including overfishing.

If I were to take a conventional conservationist position, and specify parts of the coastal zone as requiring protection, I would make a special plea for coastal marshes and other wetlands as functional rather than merely decorative or even wasteful portions of our estuarine systems. I would certainly call attention to some places I know fairly well, such as Blue Hill Bay and Laguna Madre, and to many places I have not even seen, such as Bahia Fosforescente, Glacier Bay, the Dry Tortugas, and the Door County Peninsula in Lake Michigan.

When we think about the continental shelves, though, we are forced to think about water out of sight of land and especially about the largely invisible seabed. This focuses attention on "resources," with scenic and recreational resources a minor component. The usual meaning of sanctuary sounds a little odd here, and the usual conservationist position, though not wrong, is inadequate and can even be misleading.

I stress the fact that the resources of our continental shelves and slopes are still largely unknown. A great deal of scientific research will be needed just to tell us what those resources are. The main reason for considering marine sanctuaries, as I see it, is to allow that research to proceed, unhampered by premature exploitation, by shortsighted policies requiring multiple use, or by inadvertent disturbance. Since some modes of research, such as dredging and drilling, can be major disturbances in themselves, some inner sanctuaries may be needed to protect the seabed against too enthusiastic scientists. And a lot of hard thought, and no doubt some fieldwork, as well will be needed before intelligent decisions can be reached about which areas should be reserved, what purposes they should serve, and how many there should be. I repeat, the resources are largely unknown. It is easy to think of mineral deposits, or of topographic features of military significance. But what about using the deep ocean as a heat pump? What about recycling nutrients from deep water to floating gardens in floating cities? What about the biochemical diversity of organisms and deposits that are as yet undiscovered?

There is an even more difficult question to be faced: How many sanctuaries can we afford to have? To put that question in context, I should like to digress to consider American experience with reserved areas in general. Up to now, of course, these areas have almost all been terrestrial.

Nearly a hundred years ago, Congress established the world's first national park. The name, we can see now, was not particularly well chosen. A park connotes a playground, and in our Puritan value system there is always something sinful about play. If all the land were playground, obviously, the world's work would not get done. "Yellowstone Common" might have been a better term. In New Zealand it might have been called Yellowstone Domain. New Zealanders consciously translate the Norman legal term "demesne"-crown land, or the King's domain-being well aware that in their country, as in ours, every man is king.

Whether despite the name or because of it, the idea spread. By the turn of the century our grandfathers' generation, led by some farsighted men, had established a conservation policy that was the wonder of the civilized world. Wonder is exactly what it was, and is, for the rest of the world marveled at it, but still-except, perhaps, in New Zealand and Scandinavia does not comprehend it. "Maybe Americans can afford to be so generous with each other," they say, "just wait until their population really presses on their resources, and we will see how long they can substitute elk for cattle."

Reading the writings of those early conservationists, we sometimes smile at the semireligious fervor and the rhetorical language. The smile turns a bit sheepish, though, when we realize that that "posterity" they were always prating about is us. Today, when our national park system is the envy of all nations, we are only beginning to understand its true worth. Even by the simple yardstick of cost accounting-by "estimating and amortizing benefits foregone"-that cost is enormous. By that yardstick, the dollar value of my "personal" investment in Yellowstone Park exceeds the value of my mortgaged house in Connecticut. When I remember that I also have investments in Mauna Loa, in Mount McKinley, and in thousands of square miles of country that I may never see, I know that I am a rich man, indeed. It is true that the per capita value of "my" investment declines as there are more people to share it. But its market value also rises rapidly, in direct proportion as some other American real estate deteriorates in quality.

Grand as it is, our national park system, and the conservation policy that it reflects, has two defects. They really are twin facets of a single defect, but for the moment I will treat them as separate. The first is that the system suffers from absence of planning. The second is that insufficient provision is made within it for scientific research.

It may seem strange to speak of "absence of planning," in view of the extraordinary foresight I have already referred to. Every piece of public property is precious, of course, and our national parks have been conspicuously well chosen for their many purposes. Policies for their use have been carefully worked out. They are open ended policies that permit modification as needs arise. For instance, national seashores and lakeshores can be added to the system, and a certain amount of "trading off" is permissible within the older domains, as Congress and the State of California have recently agreed. The "planning" that

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I see as absent is needed, however, at a higher level of abstraction and prediction. It would give a reasoned answer to that question necessarily raised first by other countries: How long can Americans afford to substitute elk for cattle?

We have no answer to that kind of question, yet, because, up to now, it has not seemed to us necessary to raise it. Americans have been unusually capable, among the world's peoples, of looking beyond the immediate tomorrow, but their sights have always been raised one generation at a time. We can see, now that population is really pressing on resources, that this is no longer far enough. We have to decide, and soon, at what level we can allow the population increase to level off. No set of resources is infinite, not even ours. And since, for some kinds of land, "multiple use" is simply not practicable, these difficult decisions, about population and resources, must entail some kind of national zoning. It is not merely wilderness and scenery that must conform to such a policy, but all land, and especially agricultural and urban land. In other words, there is some mix of land use that is appropriate to a healthy, productive population of-say-1 billion Americans in-saythe mid-21st century, and that mix must certainly include some wilderness, but we have no idea what the mix should be.

It is for decisions of this sort that scientific research is so urgently needed, and this is why I say that research and planning are aspects of the same problem. The National Park Service has sometimes been accused of "lack of research orientation," but that accusation, even if true, would be beside the point. Research inside the parks might be very good indeed, and still be too deeply committed to the system to enable us to change it. Wildlife management and forestry are fairly well understood in this country, and the wildlife and forests are at least as well managed in our national parks as they are elsewhere. The real problem lies outside the parks. Part of it lies in the public attitude, shared by the National Park Service and the Congress, that the primary function of the parks is as playgrounds. Beyond that, it lies in our refusal to face the issue of national zoning.

No amount of research on the welfare of an elk herd will tell us how many elk herds we can afford to exchange for cattle, or for housing. That question, being fundamentally sociopolitical and economic, is not for game biologists to answer. Before social science and economics can answer it, though, those professions will have to look realistically at the total system of resources, of which "playgrounds" are an essential part, but only a part. It will then turn out that our conservationist forebears planned better than they knew. The real or primary function of national parks, I suggest, is as national laboratories. For that function, their value is beyond price and beyond belief, because, had they not been reserved in time, they could not be established de novo at any price.

It is in this context that I hope this subcommittee will look at the idea of "marine sanctuaries." Mankind has not many options left in the use of land, but the rational exploitation of the seas is just beginning. At least we must hope that is true. When I learn that our continental shelves already carry 20,000 miles of pipeline, rusting and capable of releasing a disaster that would make the Torrey Canyon look like a grease spot, I wonder whether it may not already be too late. I am not comforted, either, when I learn from the Public Health

Service that the number of new compounds currently reaching the sea, whose ability to process them is uncertain, now approaches half a million. But at least these examples point to a political advantage for marine reserves that wilderness and wildlife lack. If we can see the problem as resources threatened by pollution, rather than as "recreational opportunities threatened by developers," the economic benefits of reserving marine domains will tend to speak for themselves.

At any rate, we still have some options open in the use of the sea. Because the resources are mainly unknown, we have very little idea of what those options are, but we have them. The bills before you do not request establishment of marine domains, or sanctuaries, but only possessions, out to the 200-meter contour. Special reference might be request that the feasibility of such establishment be studied.

The bills before you list several reasons why marine sanctuaries might be desirable, but there is no explicit reference to "scientific research" among them. I hope that this omission can be repaired. You may not agree with me that research should be the primary function of any and all sanctuaries, but it ought to be mentioned as at least one of the purposes.

I note, also, that the several bills refer explicitly to certain areas as warranting preservation. I would prefer to see general authority established to survey the possibilities and needs in the United States and its possessions, out of the 200-meter contour. Special reference might be made to offshore islands, whose eligibility might be in doubt. Obviously, atolls, none of which stand on United States-owned continental shelves, are of special significance. But canyons, trenches, seamounts, abyssal plains, and closed submarine basins also have some significance, which I can guess at but would not care to prejudge. However, the choice of particular areas can follow any studies which may be decided upon.

Any such study would, of course, be preliminary. It cannot give a final answer to the question, "How many reserves can we afford?" The first answer is, of course, "As many as we need." How many that is, only time will tell.

Mr. LENNON. Thank you, Doctor.

The gentleman from Massachusetts.

Mr. KEITH. That is a very extraordinary and welcome statement. It is nice to have men of your vision, even though you are only on loan to the Federal Government, come before this committee and raise its sights.

Dr. DEEVEY. Thank you, sir.

Mr. KEITH. I am very pleased at your contribution. I don't want to take the time with questions at the moment, but would you tell me from what city or from what educational institution you are taking your sabbatical?

Dr. DEEVEY. From Yale University, sir.

Mr. KEITH. I appreciate very much your coming and the assistance that you have given the committee in its consideration of this problem, and I really feel more like a pioneer than I did before you commented. I do want you to know that I come from the home of the Puritans but I think perhaps you have been a little rough on us with reference to them.

Dr. DEEVEY. They are my people too, sir.