The “environmental movement” began back in the 60s. That generation was the largest and loudest in American history. “Boomers” were born during the post-war baby boom and raised by Dr. Spock never to hear the word “no” from parental lips. They reached puberty virtually en masse, and seeking a cause on which to focus the moral superiority characteristic of pubescence, they found what they called “the environment.” The cause of the environment was thus adopted—and nature was thereby lost.

They spoke with the authority of scientists, of “ecologists.” They knew. You didn’t. It was politically dangerous to ignore them because of their numbers, their righteousness, and their volume. And so they were duly fed that toxic puritan wine of moral flattery, assured that they, and only they, really “cared.” Thus they became a part of that political party whose business it is to condemn others as uncaring.

Hijacked for political purposes, nature’s politicization assured its death. (Politicization kills via two distinct deadly forces: First, because of its exclusionary nature, it divides, and thus sets up its own opposing force; second, because of a problem’s perceived political usefulness as an issue, no solution is ever found.) “Nature” was thus lost to all who loved it; it had been abducted by a political party who changed its name to “the environment” and used it to gain political power.

But let’s think about that term “environment” for a moment. Your environment is the room you’re sitting in right now. And there’s no such thing as a remote environment. That’s an oxymoron. Whereas biology is the study of nature and includes us, ecology, as the study of our “environment,” doesn’t include us. We are thus unnaturally divorced from nature. “Environment” by its definition separates us; we are not part of it.

The word has now replaced the word “nature” in all but poetic contexts, and that’s significant. Nature is non-scientific, dirty, fecund, and it includes us in ways that are often very humbling—mortality, for example. Moreover, nature can’t be contemplated exclusive of the laws which govern it (and us). “Environment,” however, is scientific, clean, sterilized, and we can think of it in terms of our power over it, for good or ill. Because it’s not part of us and we are not part of it, it gives us the illusion that we are not subject to natural law, the illusion of immortality.

By those laws which govern it (and should govern us, if we were not removed from it), nature is orderly, logical. Conversely, environment can be as illogical as it likes, so long as it looks like, sounds like, a righteous concern. Here’s one example of righteous environmental illogic: Environmentalists tell us to “go paperless” to save the trees. Does anyone ever ask why timber farmers grow trees? No other single environmental campaign so completely guarantees the destruction of forests as the campaign to “go paperless.”

Aligned politically with anti-life, “the environment” works against life. Here’s an example I heard about recently (I haven’t checked it out, but I believe it): Chemical birth control has been excreted into our groundwater for some time now, though nobody has mentioned it. The problem is that it can’t be eliminated. (It’s in bottled water, too, so you can’t escape consumption.) Fish are dying. They’ve stopped reproducing. Little girls are reaching puberty now at eight years old, and our children are sexualized too young (It’s not just pop culture, it’s chemistry.) Another effect is the feminization of men—loss of height, muscle mass, and facial hair, an increase in both sterility and impotence (Maybe it’s not just the advent of feminism, but also a little chemistry?) And estrogen is the hormonal contributor to body fat; excessive estrogen causes obesity. Chemical birth control has caused the rate of breast cancer—which used to be a rare disease—to skyrocket. And speaking of breast cancer, never mind what the “experts” tell you about diet—do they mention that a single abortion increases your risk by 40 percent? Just think what several will do for you. (Don’t give those pink ribbons another dime until they start telling the truth.)

In reaction to the politics with which the “environmentalists”long ago aligned themselves, people like me have been derisively called “tree-huggers.” I confess it’s true: I love nature. I’m part of it, and it’s part of me. Together—one thing and not two—we are the creation of a loving God. And the environment is killing nature. That’s why I’m opposed it.