Ruckelshaus' First Year

"You're the enforcer," President Nixon told William D. Ruckelshaus when he swore him in as the Environmental Protection Agency's first administrator. As an afterthought, he added: "You're going to be called a lot worse."

Surprisingly, after a full year in office, Ruckelshaus, 39, has not been called anything a lot worse. Environmentalists generally praise the big, bespectacled ex-Justice Department lawyer as Nixon's best appointment. Even businessmen temper their complaints. In Washington, one good-humoredly introduced Ruckelshaus (who comes from a long line of Indiana Republicans) as "the greatest friend of American industry since Karl Marx." The consensus is that he has been aggressive but fair.

Visible Violators. The aggressive part was quickly established--even though his personal style is amiable. When the EPA was just a week old, Ruckelshaus startled the mayors of Atlanta, Detroit and Cleveland by giving them 180 days to come up with a plan to correct water-quality violations--or else. In ensuing months, he ordered action taken against some 185 other water polluters, including Armco Steel, U.S. Steel, Koppers, U.S. Plywood-Champion, ITT Rayonier and a host of municipalities. The agency recently broke all precedent by getting a federal court order forcing 23 plants in Birmingham to cut back on production during a five-day temperature inversion that was creating dangerous air pollution. Mercury discharges, thermal pollution, auto emissions--under Ruckelshaus' direction EPA has demanded (and got) action to help curb them all. EPA's general policy, Ruckelshaus told TIME Correspondent Sam Iker, is "to single out violators with the greatest visibility in order to get the message across."

Ruckelshaus has not hesitated to dispute other federal agencies' plans when they concern the environment. EPA opposed one of the Bureau of Reclamation's dam-building projects, the Interior Department's tentative approval of the trans-Alaska pipeline and, reportedly, the Atomic Energy Commission's nuclear test at Amchitka. As a result of such actions, Ruckelshaus has been called "the loneliest man in Washington." He shrugs:'"In a job like this, you're bound to ruffle some feathers."

Heavy Pressure. What makes his accomplishments even more impressive is the fact that EPA began as one of the most fragmented and confused bureaucracies in Washington --"a mess" is Ruckelshaus' word for it. It was supposed to amalgamate the functions of some 15 federal bodies with environmental responsibilities (air and water quality, pesticide tolerance, radiation). Some employees changed offices and telephone numbers more times than a harassed bookie. Ruckelshaus, charged with responsibility for an area of enormous voter concern, was under heavy pressure to produce instant results. It was, he recalls, "like trying to run a 100-yd. dash while undergoing an appendectomy."

He is proud that EPA is now developing a sense of cohesion and mission. Morale in the field, low in the beginning, has noticeably improved, especially in the enforcement area. A number of major programs, like approval of permits for cities and industries to discharge effluents into U.S. waterways, are finally starting to be implemented. Ruckelshaus also points out that EPA is overseeing a vast public works effort, doling out $2 billion a year to help localities build sewage treatment facilities.

Flip-Flop. Even so, Ruckelshaus' record is not unblemished. Take phosphate detergents. Last winter, he viewed them with alarm, arguing that the detergents could foul fresh water supplies. This fall, he seemed to join the Surgeon General and other prominent officials in backing their use. What he really meant, Ruckelshaus explains, is that caustic substitutes pose health hazards in households with small children; in all other homes, detergents with low (or no) phosphate content should be used. Still, his apparent flip-flop hurt EPA's creditability in the eyes of the public.

Persistent pesticides have been another problem. Federal courts have twice asked Ruckelshaus to consider halting the sale of DDT, and a panel of independent scientists recommended that the chemicals be phased out as soon as possible. While Ruckelshaus has limited the use of some forms of pesticides, he has committed himself to no final action on DDT pending the completion of exhaustive public hearings on whether to ban it. "It's vital that the decisions are taken in the open," he insists. "The public simply must believe that the decisions are taken to protect public health."

Public health is the key consideration in many of the laws that Ruckelshaus must enforce. But it is not the only standard; the EPA also has to take into account what one official directive terms "socioeconomic considerations." This broad mandate causes some environmentalists to fear that the EPA's role may be weakened by the Nixon Administration, whose first priority is clearly to stimulate the sluggish economy. Conservationists are thus keenly watching Ruckelshaus' every move--particularly in the enforcement of Senator Edmund Muskie's Clean Air Act--to spot any laxity. Another test: EPA's attitude toward Muskie's tough water bill now before Congress.

Ardent environmentalist though he is, Ruckelshaus is also a realist--and an unwavering Nixon supporter. So he will go along with such a balancing of all the priorities without sacrificing the environment. Ruckelshaus believes EPA has already laid the foundations for "a dramatic improvement in air and water quality within the next four or five years. The momentum is there." Indeed, his ostensible political opponents do not disagree--not even Muskie, who considers himself the original Mr. Clean of the environment. Says one of the Senator's top advisers: "Ruckelshaus would be the first holdover of a Muskie Administration."

This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so reader's discretion is required.