When protecting nature means prohibiting the future

Every civilization transforms nature. A house replaces virgin soil, a crop modifies an ecosystem, and a dam alters the course of a river. Even producing medicines, food, or energy requires intervening on resources that previously had another destination. The sensible question was never how to live without leaving a footprint, because that would only be possible by ceasing to produce. The real question is which institutions allow progress while holding accountable those who cause real harm.

The discussion about salmon farming raises that dilemma again. The government of Tierra del Fuego banned industrial salmon farming in 2021, and Greenpeace celebrated the decision as an environmental precedent. When the province partially relaxed that ban in 2025, the organization denounced an “environmental regression.” Meanwhile, in the Falklands, a consultation is underway regarding a project that contemplates initially producing 50,000 tons of salmon annually at 16 locations.

The environmental risks are not imaginary. Salmon farming can generate waste, escapes of non-native species, and health problems, and Greenpeace has documented these effects for years. In the Falklands, even local organizations question the available information and demand more rigorous environmental assessments before proceeding. Recognizing those risks, however, does not force one to conclude that the only rational response is to prohibit the activity.

Here lies the difference between conservation and extreme environmentalism. Conservation means managing risks; extremism seeks to eliminate the risk by eliminating the human activity that produces it. Under that logic, uncertainty ceases to be a problem that must be resolved through knowledge, technology, and responsibility, and automatically becomes an argument to prevent.

The problem is that all innovation begins under uncertainty. No one knows in advance all the consequences of a new technology, an industry, or a productive method. If the condition for allowing an activity were to demonstrate beforehand that it will never cause harm, a good part of economic progress would have been impossible. A society that demands zero risk also ends up achieving zero innovation.

Moreover, prohibiting has costs that environmental discourse often renders invisible. The project analyzed in the Falklands could diversify an economy heavily linked to fishing. An assessment commissioned by the island administration estimated that a production of 30,000 tons could contribute about 35 million pounds annually and 133 jobs. These are projections, not certainties, but they remind us of something fundamental: giving up production also has economic and human consequences.

A liberal perspective offers a more demanding alternative than prohibition. If a company pollutes someone else's property, harms a fishery, or causes demonstrable damage, it must be held accountable. The role of serious institutions is precisely to define rights, assign responsibilities, and ensure that costs fall on those who generate them. Environmental damage should not be socialized, but it should not be used as a license to socialize the decision about which activities can exist.

Technology also modifies what once seemed inevitable. New monitoring systems, better sanitary methods, and changes in production processes can reduce impacts that previously seemed inseparable from an industry. The entrepreneur has incentives to discover those solutions when they must bear the cost of their mistakes and can reap the benefits of innovation. Prohibition, on the other hand, shuts down that process before it can begin.

That is why the debate about salmon transcends Tierra del Fuego and the Falklands. A free society should not choose between growth and nature, but rather build rules so that those who produce also bear the consequences of producing. The difference may seem small, but it separates two conceptions of society.

Environmentalism becomes dangerous when it stops asking how to do things better and starts deciding which things should never be done. Nature deserves protection, but the future does too. A civilization progresses when it learns to reduce the costs of transforming the world, not when it turns the fear of transforming it into a virtue.