NORTON WILL HAVE a much harder time outmaneuvering the opposition over the most bitterly disputed issue of all: drilling for oil in a 1.5-million-acre portion of the 19-million-acre Arctic National Wildlife Refuge. Allowing oil exploration in ANWR is a big deal in part because, unlike other federal lands, ANWR isn't a multiple-use space. Created by President Dwight Eisenhower in 1960, it's supposed to be off-limits to just about everything that would interfere with the birds and caribou and polar bears that live thereno snowmobiling, no hunting, no oil exploration. Greens are fiercely protective of that hands-off status, fearing that if Norton and Bush succeed in pushing their way onto ANWR, it's only a matter of time before other protected wilderness areasand maybe national parksget drilled.
By now, the arguments are familiar enough: Environmentalists claim drilling in ANWR would damage pristine tundra and caribou and polar bear habitats, all for a six-month supply of oil that won't be available for at least ten years. In the other corner, Norton and the Republicans say the refuge sits atop a vast sea of crude that can be softly, safely sucked out of the ground without leaving a trace.
Both sides exaggerate to make their case. The "six month" supply of oil that environmentalists talk about is a loose statistic based on the U.S. Geological Survey's 1998 estimate that there are roughly 3.2 billion barrels of recoverable oil under the refuge. But there could be much more. No one can know without drilling.
Meanwhile, Norton and her allies insist that new methods make it possible to tap oil without making a mess. "Certainly, the technology has improved," Norton says. "I don't think we were focused on the use of ice roads when we looked at development in the 1980s, or the ability to do horizontal drilling from far away. The environmental impacts are far less today."
But such assurances only tell half the story. Once oil is found, wells and pipelines will proliferate across ANWR's surface. And no matter how good the technology, oil wells leak. Alaska's Prudhoe Bay oil fields average 400 spills a year.
Even Norton's own staff has gotten in her way on ANWR, sometimes refusing to serve up the sort of data she'd like. When Norton tried to argue her case for ANWR exploration to a Senate committee last year, she offered statistics that showed the 120,000-strong Porcupine Caribou Herd wouldn't be significantly affected by the drilling. Her own Fish and Wildlife biologists strongly disagreed, however, and produced solid evidence that herd animals often calve in the very spot where the oil rigs would go.
Norton didn't include that evidence. Instead, she based her testimony on a competing study sponsored in part by the oil industry. Even then she botched a critical fact, saying that the herd usually calves mainly outside the drilling area. In reality, Fish and Wildlife studies showed that the calving took place inside the proposed site 27 out of the last 30 years. Greens accused Norton of deliberately lying to Congress. Her beleaguered press aide Mark Pfeifle called it an unintentional error.
This exasperating back-and-forth seems destined to go on forever. Last summer, the Republican House appeared to break the stalemate when it successfully tucked an ANWR drilling provision into the president's energy plan. No one was more delighted than Norton, whose backstage maneuvering may have done the trick. She endured marathon days chatting up Republican members of Congress, letting them know just how much the president would appreciate their supportand how terribly disappointed he'd be if he didn't get it. Gulp. "She almost lived up here for a while," Utah Representative Jim Hansen, who wrote the bill, told The Denver Post at the time.
Unfortunately for Norton, the Democrats aren't bewitched. Daschle has bluntly told Bush and Norton that no matter what the House does, no Arctic drilling plan will get past him. These days, Norton's closest ally in the Senate may be Frank Murkowski, 68, the ornery, oil-fed Alaska Republican. Early last year, Murkowski took Norton on a guided tour of the oil fields in Prudhoe Bay, where they delivered fresh navel oranges to locals. The two became fast friends.
"I'll say this," Murkowski laughs. "She is a hardy Westerner. We went up to Barrow and Fairbanks. It was 78 below with windchill. She didn't complain once. I kept telling her she'd make a fine Alaskan."