by Lewis Loflin
In Appalachia, environmentalism often takes on a quasi-religious fervor, prioritizing ideology over the practical needs of local communities. Al Gore’s 1992 book *Earth in the Balance* mentions Southwest Virginia, framing the region as a battleground where well-meaning activists “help” the “down-trodden and ignorant locals”—a perspective that reveals a deep cultural disconnect. As a Deist, I value reason and science as tools to improve human life while stewarding the natural world, but the “Green Religion” preached by some environmentalists, with its pantheistic undertones and technophobic tendencies, offers little to address Appalachia’s real challenges: poverty, education, and economic opportunity. Drawing on Michael Fumento’s *Science Under Siege*, this article critiques the imposition of this ideology and its failure to deliver meaningful progress after decades of intervention.
Al Gore’s *Earth in the Balance* captures the quasi-religious mindset of some environmentalists in Appalachia. Quoting Presbyterian minister Richard Cartwright Austin, who worked among the poor in the region, Gore writes: “I learned early on from my years as a pastor in Appalachia… that the only defense those mountains have from exploitation by the energy conglomerates’ bulldozers is the poor, isolated people who live in those hollows, who care so deeply that they would fight for that land. Take those people away and the mountains are totally defenseless… From the biblical point of view, nature is only safe from pollution and brought into a secure moral relationship when it is united with people who love it and care for it.” This rhetoric, while poetic, elevates mountains to a sacred status, suggesting they have rights that supersede human needs—a hallmark of the “Green Religion” Fumento critiques in *Science Under Siege* (*Science Under Siege*, p. 358).
Fumento notes that some environmentalists indulge in “earth worship to the point of idolatry,” a trend evident in Austin’s words. The idea of a “moral relationship” with nature echoes the Gaia theory, which posits the Earth as a living organism, a concept more spiritual than scientific (*Science Under Siege*, p. 358). For locals in Appalachia, where 9 out of 10 voted for Trump in recent elections, seeking the return of high-paying mining jobs, this focus on worshipping mountains over addressing human needs is a profound disconnect. As I’ve argued in my critique of environmentalism’s technophobia, such ideology often rejects the very technologies—like clean energy innovations—that could balance economic growth with environmental protection.
Environmentalists in Appalachia often act like missionaries in a third-world country, more interested in imposing a cultural agenda than addressing local priorities. They view the region’s residents as too “ignorant” to know what’s best, a paternalistic attitude that alienates communities. People here need practical education—skills like financial literacy, avoiding self-destructive behaviors, and training for viable jobs—not sermons about “moral relationships” with nature. The Green Religion’s focus on pantheistic ideals, as Fumento describes, mirrors a broader trend where environmentalists see themselves as “prophets, would-be transformers of the world,” seeking a “new vision” rather than practical solutions (*Science Under Siege*, p. 358).
This disconnect is compounded by the influence of liberal churches, which have increasingly abandoned traditional faith for New Age-style thinking. Austin’s biblical framing of nature as a sacred entity reflects this shift, blending Marxist undertones—evident in the anti-industrial rhetoric—with pantheistic nonsense. Mountains are not beings and have no rights; they are resources to be managed responsibly for human benefit. As a Deist, I find this quasi-religious approach antithetical to reason, echoing Fumento’s observation that environmentalism often prioritizes faith over science (*Science Under Siege*, p. 358).
The Appalachian Regional Commission (ARC), established in 1965 to address poverty in the region, exemplifies the failure of ideologically driven interventions. The ARC claims to have reduced the number of “distressed” counties from 295 to 90 by 2017. Yet, a 2004 Associated Press report stated that the ARC had spent $10 billion over 40 years, reducing distressed counties from 223 to 91 since 1965. This discrepancy raises questions: if the ARC initially identified 223 distressed counties, why does it now claim 295? And why does the region, defined as 423 counties in 2025, include states like Mississippi and Alabama as the largest grant recipients, despite Appalachia’s core being in states like West Virginia and Southwest Virginia?
These inconsistencies suggest a lack of clear goals and accountability, compounded by political corruption. Many locals, myself included, support shutting down the ARC, seeing it as a waste of money. After nearly six decades, the persistence of high poverty in 90 counties—despite billions spent—indicates a failure to address root causes. The ARC’s focus often aligns with the Green Religion’s priorities, such as opposing mining and promoting “sustainable” development, rather than supporting the economic opportunities—like mining jobs—that locals desire. This mirrors Fumento’s critique of environmentalism’s moral crusades, which divert resources to symbolic battles while neglecting more pressing human needs (*Science Under Siege*, p. 359).
The Green Religion’s technophobic tendencies, as discussed in my earlier article on environmentalism’s fear of technology, exacerbate Appalachia’s economic struggles. Environmentalists often oppose mining, particularly strip mining, as Austin did, framing it as an assault on sacred nature. Yet, mining has historically provided high-paying jobs that sustained families in Southwest Virginia and beyond. The Green Left’s push to “destroy” these jobs, ostensibly for the locals’ own good, ignores the economic reality: alternative “green” jobs, like those in renewable energy, often pay less and require skills that many locals lack.
Fumento highlights this technophobia in *Science Under Siege*, noting that some environmentalists fear abundant energy because of what society might do with it, with figures like Amory Lovins calling it “disastrous” (*Science Under Siege*, p. 356). In Appalachia, this mindset translates to a rejection of technologies that could modernize mining—such as cleaner extraction methods or carbon capture—potentially preserving jobs while reducing environmental impact. Instead, the Green Religion’s anti-industrial stance, rooted in a romanticized view of nature, leaves communities economically stranded, unable to benefit from the very innovations that could bridge their needs with environmental goals.
As a Deist, I believe in using reason and science to improve human life while responsibly managing natural resources. The Green Religion’s approach in Appalachia fails on both counts. Its quasi-religious worship of mountains, as seen in Gore’s and Austin’s rhetoric, prioritizes ideology over practicality, echoing Fumento’s observation that environmentalism often subjugates science to a “vision of the sacred” (*Science Under Siege*, p. 359). Its technophobia, as I’ve previously critiqued, rejects the tools—like advanced mining technologies—that could sustain jobs while minimizing environmental harm. And its inefficacy, as evidenced by the ARC’s track record, wastes resources on symbolic gestures rather than addressing poverty’s root causes.
Appalachia needs practical solutions: education in financial literacy, vocational training for diverse industries, and infrastructure investments that create sustainable jobs. Mining can be part of this future if paired with modern technologies that reduce environmental impact. The Green Religion’s Marxist and pantheistic undertones, which romanticize a pre-industrial past, offer nothing to the people of Southwest Virginia. As Fumento notes, environmentalists like Jeremy Rifkin idealize the life of the feudal serf, ignoring its “nasty, brutish, and short” reality (*Science Under Siege*, p. 355). Locals here aren’t interested in worshipping mountains—they want to work, provide for their families, and build a future.
The Green Religion won’t save Appalachia, but a reason-based approach can. Environmentalism must shed its quasi-religious trappings and focus on science-driven solutions that balance human needs with ecological care. This means supporting technologies that modernize industries like mining, investing in education and infrastructure that empower locals, and holding programs like the ARC accountable for clear, measurable outcomes. As my climate studies have shown, natural variability and human activities both shape our environment, and addressing these challenges requires innovation, not ideology. Appalachia deserves better than a gospel that preaches mountain worship while ignoring the people who call this region home.
Updated 2025 by Lewis Loflin. Extracts from *Science Under Siege* by Michael Fumento.
Acknowledgment: I’d like to thank Grok, an AI by xAI, for helping me draft and refine this article. The final edits and perspective are my own.
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