The Work: Whether your employer is the Justice Department, a polluter in need of defense, or a nonprofit organization, you'll spend the bulk of your time poring over case documents—investigation reports, Forest Service logging proposals, and scientific materials—doing pretrial administration work, or arguing
to a jury that a man accused of smuggling 200 exotic parrots across international borders should go to jail. Or get lucky like Sierra Club attorney Mark Massara, who logs billable hours on the beach building support for coastal preservation.
Time Outside: 10—20 percent at most. You commune with paper more than with nature, though the occasional investigative foray to inspect a clear-cut or the scene of a grizzly bear kill isn't out of the question.
Payback: $20,000 in the public sector, up to $250,000 for private attorneys working on high-profile litigation. Of course, there are those who take a virtual vow of poverty for the Earth. "If I earned more, I'd consume more," says Marty Bergoffen, an attorney for the Southern Appalachian Biodiversity Project, who banked
a measly $10,000 last year. "And that only leads to more environmental degradation." (We didn't pay him to say that.)
Prerequisites: Vermont Law School (888-277-5985; www.vermontlaw.edu) and the University of Oregon's School of Law (541-346-3846; http://www.law.uoregon.edu) are choice trolling grounds for
talent scouts from private firms and NGOs. Along with your law diploma, you'll need a passing score on your state bar exam and—to land the best jobs—a B.S. in ecology or environmental science.
Networking: Bring a stack of résumés to the University of Oregon Land-Air-Water Association's annual environmental law conference in Eugene in March.
Peon to Pro: Seven years from exam-weary law school grad to partner or head counsel.
Drudge Factor: 80- to 90-hour workweeks during trials. And if you work for a private firm, you don't always represent the good guys.
Outlook: Promising. Tightening environmental regulations mean plenty of opportunity for prosecution and defense. Eighty percent of current openings are in corporate law.
The Work: State and federally employed special agents (most punch the clock for the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service or the Environmental Protection Agency) spend their days incognito, tracking and busting violators of the Clean Air, Clean Water, and Endangered Species Acts. Agents do everything from stinging renegade
taxidermists to foiling coral smugglers to cruising airports with contraband-sniffing German shepherds.
Time Outside: 25—75 percent, depending on the post. "The criminals don't come to you," says Special Agent Doug Goessman, who tracks grizzly poachers for the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service in Montana. "You've got to take your spotting scope, your video camera, your binoculars, and get out there and beat the
bushes."
Payback: $21,000 a year for entry-level agents with previous law-enforcement experience; $60,000 for senior agents.
Prerequisites: Start with a B.S. in criminal justice from a school like Southern Illinois University—Carbondale (618-453-2121; www.siu.edu/~ajsiuc). Once hired, you'll be taught high-speed pursuit driving, interrogation, federal conservation laws,
and the limits of your own stamina: Flunk the physical evaluation battery—20 push-ups in two minutes, for starters—and you're out.
Networking: The Federal Wildlife Officers Association (www.fwoa.org) and the International Association of Fish and Wildlife Agencies (202-624-7890; www.sso.org/iafwa) are must-surf Web sites for job
openings.
Peon to Pro: Expect to spend at least five years in the field before making senior agent, and at least 15 years for top billing: chief of law enforcement. * Drudge Factor: Rummaging through cargo loads of reptile-skin boots, live tropical fish, and caviar at an international customs
booth.
Outlook: Dog-eat-dog. With only 230 special-agent positions in the Fish and Wildlife Service, competition is stiff. In 1998, 980 applicants wrangled over 15 openings.
The Work: Your mission is clear—to valorously protect the environment!—but your job description isn't, especially if you work for a small, grassroots venture. A typical day could have you rallying local businesses and labor groups against a proposed golf course, penning press releases, lobbying legislators
for tighter emissions restrictions, or trekking Alabama forests to inventory the endangered Eastern indigo snake.
Time Outside: For grassroots activists, 25—90 percent. Lobbyists for the citybound national organizations, 40 percent.
Payback: $12,000— $35,000 a year.
Prerequisites: Come one, come all: The job is open to anybody, says Tom Price, communications director at Southern Utah Wilderness Alliance, "with an aversion to making money and a healthy dose of moral outrage."
Networking: The Sierra Club posts reams of archival information on hot-topic enviro issues, organizations, and high-profile campaigns around the country (415-977-5500; www.sierraclub.org).
Drudge Factor: With such minuscule budgets, there's never going to be anyone to bring you coffee or take dictation.
Peon to Pro: Four to seven years to make executive director on the local level. Promotions aside, you know you've hit your stride when a pissed-off rancher calls at 2 a.m.
Outlook: Put your save-the-world face on: Rampant burnout results in high turnover, meaning there may a job for you at one of the country's 250-plus organizations.
