The Bee Emissary Chapter 15

Entomology faculty members were required to teach an advanced graduate course every four years.

Chapter 15:

Entomology faculty members were required to teach an advanced graduate course every four years. As his graduate student, taking my major professor’s course, The President and the Environment, was in my best interest. The course lasted six weeks, with meetings twice a week for two hours, starting in mid-October.

The class had only ten entomology students and, unexpectedly, five students from the political science department. I had never been very interested in politics and had little to contribute, but much to learn. I wondered how this course would help me as a scientist. When I posed that question to Dr. Carlson, he responded in his fatherly way. “It might help you grow as a person.”

We met in a small conference room. Photographs of past department chairs decorated the wall. Polished oak made up the conference table and captain’s chairs. A large, dark oak bookshelf took up an entire wall and rose from floor to ceiling. Copies of doctoral theses dating back to the 1890s filled each shelf. I pulled some at random to see what graduate students had worked on in the past. Dr. Carlson arrived, and everyone took a seat.

After setting his coffee cup and laptop down, Dr. Carlson stood at the head of the table and began by taking attendance and handing out the course syllabus. The first item on the syllabus was Introduction.

“One might say presidential interest in environmental issues started with President Theodore Roosevelt. Starting in 1901, Roosevelt used executive orders to create national parks and forests, established the U.S. Forest Service, and took many steps to protect wildlife, including the bison, which some call the buffalo, from extinction.”

One student spoke up. “Professor, that wasn’t the start of the modern environmental movement.” The student, bearded and wearing gold earrings, was dressed in black denim and had to be in the political science department.

“True. The modern movement launched around 1962 with the publication of Silent Spring by Rachel Carson. She described the destructive effects of pesticides like DDT, which killed pests, but also killed beneficial insects, birds, and fish; pesticides also entered the food chain, harming human health.”

“Professor, was the Environmental Protection Agency established at this time?”

“Tom, is it?” The student nodded. Tom’s flannel shirt and blue denim pants marked him as an entomology student and one of the few black students in the department. “You are correct, but the government waited until 1970 to establish the EPA. It took time to get the requisite political support. President Nixon, a Republican, championed and signed significant environmental legislation.”

“Nixon! The Watergate guy?”

“Let me see.” Dr. Carlson checked the class roster. “You are Fred?” The student wore thick glasses and a T-shirt that read “What Me Worry”—a definite nod to political science.

Dr. Carlson chuckled. “Yes, that president. Is anyone else surprised?”

I raised my hand. “Professor, why would that surprise me?”

The political science and a few of the entomology students chuckled and shook their heads.

“Rob, you reminded me that many of you were born after 2000. For some of you, this is truly ancient history. Nixon was an astute politician who did these things for political reasons. Nixon became President in 1968 and wanted to be reelected in 1972. It was a tumultuous time in American politics because of opposition to the Vietnam War.”

Fred asked, “Okay, so why was it politically helpful for Nixon to support environmental legislation?”

“Good question. The well-known historian Michael Beschloss recently gave a talk on the Madison campus. He answered this question. He felt Nixon’s support was due primarily to political pragmatism. Nixon knew environmental issues were popular. He defensively championed these issues, undercutting his Democrat opponents.”

Tom said, “And because of this political calculation, we got the EPA, the National Environmental Policy Act, the Clean Air Act, the Clean Water Act, and the Endangered Species Act.”

Tom then asked, “Was Nixon an eco-warrior?”

Dr. Carlson, who had been standing, sat down. “No, far from it.” Dr. Carlson paused. “Many consider Nixon the consummate politician.” Dr. Carlson looked around the room to gauge the reaction to his last statement. “Are you surprised politics motivates politicians, not morals?” He looked around the conference room again. “Don’t deceive yourself; elected officials are political animals. They do what it takes to get elected or re-elected.” The professor clicked his tongue. “If Nixon attempted to do today what he did in the 1970s, fellow Republicans would label him a socialist, commie, or liberal and deny him any role in the government.”

Rachel, a political science student, piped up. “Professor, make sure and talk about how the Supreme Court gutted all that environmental legislation in 2024.”

The professor looked dismayed. “Rachel, we are getting ahead of ourselves. But essentially, you are correct. In 2024, the Supreme Court upended 40 years of legal precedent by overturning the Chevron doctrine.” A bewildered look on the students’ faces showed they were unfamiliar with the Chevron doctrine.

Dr. Carlson continued. “Until 2024, regulations governing businesses were products of the experts at government agencies like the EPA. The Supreme Court ruled that the regulation violated an earlier law from 1946, the APA or Administrative Procedures Act. The act established procedures for establishing regulations. As part of the APA, it is up to the courts to decide if a regulation is fair. The Supreme Court ruled Chevron violated the APA and deprived the courts of their role in determining regulatory issues. It is now up to the courts to decide what the EPA, among other agencies, can and cannot do about environmental and other regulatory issues.”

Rachel again spoke up. “Yeah, so what good is the government and all the money it throws away on the toothless agencies?”

With eyebrows raised, Dr. Carlson looked at Rachel and shrugged his shoulders. “Good question.”

Tom again raised his hand. “Wait a minute. I bet you’re excited about the Good Deeds Party’s political platform,” Tom said.

I could tell the professor was enjoying the give-and-take.

The bearded polysci student blurted out, “They should call it the death to democracy party.”

I turned toward him and blurted out, “What’s the Good Deeds Party?”

My question met with outright laughter.

I heard one student say, “Who is this rube?”

Dr. Carlson furrowed his brow and said sternly, “Hey! That is quite enough! We are here to learn. Many of us are at various stages of that process, so be respectful or leave now!” Two students got up and left. The remaining class became quiet, and people beside me turned and apologized.

As the two students walked out, one student roared, “Okay, that’s enough BS for one day. I thought this was an advanced graduate course!”

Dr. Carlson watched the two students leave and then said, “Hmmm, that will probably get me sent to the principal’s office.” There was a nervous chuckle in the room.

“Okay, since it has come up, what do you know about the GDP or Good Deeds Party?”

Tom’s hand shot up. “It is a third party that has nominated a presidential candidate and candidates for the U.S. Senate and Congress. A major part of their platform is to address climate change aggressively.”

“Excellent, Tom. Now, what do people know about the GDP presidential candidate?”

A new hand shot up, and Dr. Carlson looked at his roster. “Brenda?” She nodded.

“The candidate is retired General Deed Walters, who graduated from West Point, fought in Vietnam, and commanded troops in the two Iraq Wars. He rocketed through the ranks to become a general at age 30. He retired from the military in 2005. Some say he stalled in his military career because of his hawkish views on Russia and China. He only recently entered politics.”

“Brilliant, Brenda. What else do you know?”

“Can you be more specific?”

“Okay, what do you know about the GDP?”

“Only that it came into existence a little over a year ago.”

“This is true, but it’s been in the works for over a decade.” Brenda looked surprised.

“Who’s funding the GDP?” Dr. Carlson looked at Brenda. “Any idea, Brenda?”

Brenda’s expression went blank.

“Okay, this is politics 101.” Dr. Carlson smiled, feeling the students’ growing engagement.

“As with many things in this modern world, you must follow the money.” Dr. Carlson took a sip of coffee. He made a face, likely because the coffee had gone cold.

“A group of billionaires intending to fix America recruited Walters as an advisor while he was still a general. A military genius, he excelled at battlefield strategy and psychological warfare. His seminars were required at the Army War College in Carlisle, Pennsylvania. His benefactors felt that these war strategies could win elections.” Presumably forgetting his earlier experience, Dr. Carlson sipped his tepid coffee. He quickly put down the mug and pushed it away from him.

Brenda’s hand shot up. “How does this relate to the GDP?”

Dr. Carlson smiled. “I’m getting there. You need to know one other thing. The man who recruited Walters as an advisor was Ben Bolton of Bolton Semiconductors, a multibillionaire. Bolton saw something special in Walters. After Bolton’s death from stomach cancer in 2012, he bequeathed his entire estate to Walters, who established a research institute aimed at solving the problems hindering America’s global dominance. The group was called The Bolton Promise. Walters and his billionaire buddies are behind the creation of the GDP, which, as you said, occurred a little over a year ago.”

The bearded student spoke sarcastically. “Yeah, a real man of the people.”

I looked around the room. The word dominance caused the political science students to raise their hands.

“You there—Susan?” She fidgeted in her seat.

“Professor, what do you mean when you say dominance?”

The bearded student became agitated. “Are you that clueless? It’s code for taking over the world.”

Dr. Carson looked displeased. “We will keep this discussion civil.” He looked directly at the bearded student. “Do you hear me, Zach?”

Zach scoffed and looked at the floor, clenching the sides of his seat with both hands.

After clearing his throat, Dr. Carlson continued, “Fair question, but I’m going to let retired General Walters answer for me.” He broadcast a YouTube video of Walters speaking at one of his political rallies.

“My message resonates with many Americans tired of financial insecurity, global crises, pandemics, and government incompetence. The U.S. is no longer the world’s only superpower. Simply put, prior administrations degraded our standing in the world through poor leadership and lousy decision-making, and sank us to the level of Russia and China. Only my America First policies can defeat our foes.” With that last statement, the crowd went wild, clapping and screaming, “Walters, Walters, Walters.”

Dr. Carlson expected a barrage of questions. Instead, there was a palpable chill in the room.

Dr. Carlson stirred the pot, egging the students on to express an opinion. “It sounds like he is asking us to elect him as king?”

Finally, one of the entomology students piped up, “Damn straight! Finally, someone with some guts and a plan.” He almost spat out the words.

Brenda respectfully asked the student, “Aren’t you concerned that someone like that might just take over the government and rule by decree? Do you want a dictator?”

Zach added, “Yeah, man, what’s your problem?”

The student turned toward Zach with his fists clenched. “I’ll tell you something: people are sick and tired of being sick and tired. If Walters rules by decree, so what? Look where democracy has gotten us. Hell, China is more advanced and more organized than we will ever be! We solve nothing. Each year, our economy only benefits the wealthy, our environment continues to deteriorate, we fight pointless wars, and if you try to get an education, you go into debt. If you’re lucky enough to get a job, they treat you like shit!” The student stood. He took a step toward Dr. Carlson and screamed. “I’m sick and tired of being sick and tired! I’m sick and tired of you fucking elites.” His fists clenched, his eyes unfocused, and then I saw tears.

Crimson-faced, the student left the room and slammed the door behind him. The rest of us stared at the door in stunned silence—even Dr. Carlson.

Dr. Carlson struggled to find the words. His voice cracked as he spoke. “Listen, I’ve lived seven decades. I would say that I have seen a lot: wars, riots, protests, 9/11, financial meltdowns, a worsening climate, and pandemics. What we see today, in this classroom, in this country, and in the world, results from accumulated trauma. There might be differences between countries, but every country is experiencing unrelenting stress. Today’s climate extremes worsen the trauma. The political polarization worsens the trauma. What we saw today in this classroom was only the tip of a melting iceberg. Has anyone else noticed that people wear T-shirts and sweatshirts emblazoned with the words We, the people, are pissed?” Dr. Carlson paused and surveyed the room.

“Should we rewrite the Declaration of Independence to enshrine resentment as our core national value? Historically, extreme emotions have led to extreme choices, which rarely end well for a democracy. All I can say is that I fear for everyone.”

Dr. Carlson looked down, then up again, looking sequentially at every student’s face. “I need to say one more thing. I teach this class to illustrate that we have passed environmental legislation for the benefit of all. Despite everything that is going on in the world today, I am still optimistic that we can do it again, but only if we work together.”

Zach stood and looked Dr. Carlson in the eye. “Fuck this shit. What planet are you from, man? Don’t you get it? It’s every man for himself.” He tore the syllabus in half and threw it on the floor. “Work together on that, asshole.”

One student after another followed his example and walked out, until there was just me, one other student, Dr. Carlson, and a floor littered with torn syllabi.

Rho was a first-year graduate student who had recently arrived from. Petite and with long black hair, she sat silently, the syllabus before her. Both her hands lay flat on the table, palms down, bracketing the syllabus. She slowly rose, tore her syllabus in half, and returned the halves neatly to the table. She walked slowly toward the door, and as she was about to leave, she turned and uttered one word.

“Boomer.”

She quietly closed the door behind her.

The room was now empty except for me and Dr. Carlson. I heard Dr. Carlson sigh, and he looked at me. “Well, that was interesting.”

He wiped his eyes with a tissue. I nodded sympathetically. He looked defeated.

In a weary voice, laden with the scars of fighting for a better world, Dr. Carlson spoke. “Rob, I no longer know this world. What does a person do when they refuse to take sides? What does a world become without thoughtful compromise? I thought by teaching, I could make a difference. Now, I know better.”

With that said, Dr. Carlson got up, collected his papers and laptop, and left the room, leaving the door open.

I had enormous admiration for my professor. It saddened me that he appeared so alone and maybe even despised. I wondered, if a man like him felt despondent, what hope did I have? I needed to pay more attention to the world to survive and hopefully prosper.

Dr. Carlson left the room a different man. I went around the conference room, picking up the torn pieces of paper and putting them in the recycling basket. He had left his coffee mug on the table. I went to the break room and washed it out. Someone had just made a fresh pot of coffee, so I filled his mug and found Dr. Carlson in his office. He was sitting in the dark, staring at his desk. I quietly put the mug down on his desk. Dr. Carlson didn’t look up, but said, “Thank you, Rob. Please close the door on your way out.”

Later that day, every student in the class received an email announcing the course’s cancellation. The university would refund the course fee. Dr. Carlson did not come to work the next day. I heard he spent the day with the angry student, Stewart. I later learned that just before class, Stewart had learned from his dad that they had just lost the family farm.