So we decided to compromise. We reached an agreement with the dining hall administration to recycle the disposable plates. Superficially, it seems that we have made progress. But now that the recycling program has started, it will be even harder to persuade the dining hall to switch to reusable plates. Recycling should be an intermediate stage. Instead, it seems to be the final one.

In Dunster House, we settled for half a loaf. We compromised. Usually, a compromise represents the solution most beneficial to both parties. But in the case of environmental conservation, a compromise hurts both parties, because both parties share the destiny common to all inhabitants of the planet. Compromise is not a long-run solution. Eventually, environmental activists will have to overcome past agreements.

OF COURSE, not all compromises are the same. Temporarily settling for recycling in Dunster House seems less a problem than compromising the lofty ideals of Earth Day in the interest of a mega-celebration. (On Saturday, for example, Earth Day organizers threw a huge bash at Jamaica Plain, where hundreds of people gathered to enjoy a barbecue served on disposable plates, cups, knives, forks and spoons.)

The motto of Earth Day, "Every Day is Earth Day," implies that Earth Day is an ideal after which to model all other days. If Earth Day is the best we can do, our planet is in a heap of trouble.

The gap between being environmentally conscious and being environmentally conscientious is huge, and Earth Day did a poor job of bridging that gap. Promoting awareness of environmental problems is important, but more important is carrying on the struggle to enforce environmental responsibility among the institutions that perpetuate these problems. In this sense, the compromises of Earth Day are a total disappointment.

Julie E. Peters '91 is a Biology concentrator living in Dunster House. She conserves water by flushing the toilet infrequently.