The citizen ballot initiative, like many of Maui County’s newer residents, is a transplant from the mainland. A century ago, for example, the initiative was added to the California constitution, in order to enable then Governor Hiram Johnson to bypass the railroad-controlled California legislature.

Hawaii has borrowed this tool of democracy, but only at the county level. On November 4 Maui voters will get their first chance to act as citizen legislators. They will be asked to approve or reject a citizen-written law halting work by the seed corn companies, demanding that they prove their work is safe, and imposing stiff fines for non-compliance.

This measure reached our ballot, not because the County Council is controlled by Monsanto, but simply because the Council felt the intense passion of initiative proponents and opted to “let the people decide.”  This was clearly a prudent career move, if not exactly inspirational leadership.

A Monsanto Molokai field worker pollinates corn.

PF Bentley/Civil Beat

Four weeks out, support for this initiative looks strong.  Most likely, Maui Island alone will decide. Although Molokai will suffer the biggest impact, Molokai and Lanai combined do not have the votes to stop it. Proponents had no trouble collecting the 9,000 required signatures, even after half were disqualified.

The initiative messaging is quite skillful. It brings together those who see Hawaii as a paradise in the past with those who came here seeking paradise in the present. It plays on the widespread fears of invasive species, pesticide poisoning and corporate control of the food supply. It points to the potential catastrophe of escaped Frankenstein organisms running amok – a popular nightmare at least as old as the alien invasion movies of the 1950s.

Linked to these fears are sobering discussions of the autism epidemic and a host of other syndromes and diseases believed traceable to corporate farming. In the background flickers the historic reputations of Monsanto and Dow, corporations originally demonized by the anti-war movement of the 1960s.

For the average voter – which includes the present writer – this issue can be hard to sort. The doomsday scenarios are terrifying, but it’s less clear how banning seed research will save us. We can all agree that Hawaii is a small and fragile environment, with no surplus land or water. We can all agree that identifiable health risks should be addressed by government regulation and enforcement. But is deporting a whole industry really the best approach?

Where many of us get most confused is with the science. Both pro and anti GMO advocates bombard us with studies, findings and data. Unless you work in the industry, much of this amounts to “he said, she said.” How do the rest of us decide which studies are relevant, which scientists are objective, and which conclusions are right? It doesn’t help to accuse all industry spokesmen of bias, because the fears fanned by the antis can be just as distorting as the self-interest of the companies.

Given the passions it has aroused, this initiative seems like another battle in the long-running culture war between those who see science as a savior and those who see it as a menace. In the U.S., this war has raged at least since the Manhattan Project. After so much fighting, the two sides are no longer on speaking terms. When asked for advice, one side says, “Trust us;” while the other says, “Repent! The end is near!” Neither answer is particularly helpful.

If we voters are to be legislators, however, then we still have to decide: Is this a good law?

We might start by noting that the officials we elect to make laws under normal circumstances must do more than write impressive bills. In fact, their working motto must be: “the perfect is the enemy of the good, and even a good law, if it erodes civility, is a bad idea.” With each bill, legislators must consider the political context and the interface with existing law. They must try to defuse impending conflicts, balance competing interests, reconcile fundamentally different points of view, and anticipate negative and unintended consequences. This is all part of their job. If citizens are to become successful legislators, they will need to develop these skills as well.

Where many of us get most confused is with the science. Both pro and anti GMO advocates bombard us with studies, findings and data.

This initiative is sharply focused. It targets one set of activities. It anticipates legal challenges. It calls itself a moratorium, but sets hurdles high enough to force the corn companies to move their operations elsewhere. It achieves what it intends.

From a legislative standpoint, however, it also exhibits a charming or (depending on your point of view) a chilling innocence. First, it provokes rather than disarms its opposition. It pits right against wrong, health against greed, and purity against poison, leaving little room for reasonable people to disagree, or for opponents to save face.

Second, it ignores or slides over costs and collateral damage. In particular, it offers nothing to the hundreds of lower and middle income families who currently depend on this industry to survive. Even the Shaka website offers only a single conscience-clearing assertion that “there is no need for job loss as these companies can switch back to non-GMO seed crop production.”  In other words, if this initiative triggers massive layoffs, it will be the companies’ fault.

It is true that one main purpose of law is to protect the community. But another main purpose of law is to unite the community in support of rules perceived to be fair. Laws which target particular individuals or groups typically end up in court, being tested for fairness.

Come December, our County Council members may find themselves experiencing punter’s remorse. If this initiative passes, it will be their unenviable job to mollify bad feelings, find help for injured parties, and yet still enforce the new law to the satisfaction of its proponents.

No matter what happens in November, Maui County voters will come away wiser. After this battle, will they endorse initiatives more often?  Or will they shy away? California’s long experience offers a cautionary tale, but California is a poor model, because the initiative process there has been largely co-opted by special interests. (California voter guides are confusing, deceptive, and thicker than the Maui phonebook.) Notoriously, the California Initiative has also been used to legislate racism and homophobia.

One ironic result of Maui County’s experience could be a greater appreciation for the skills of our politicians. We impatiently want them to be on ‘our side.’ But their greatest value is their ability to hear different sides, bring sides together, and compromise.

Of course, to those passionately searching for purity, any compromise can seem like betrayal. Those who cherish Hawaii as a kind of Eden may be particularly zealous about expelling the “evildoers.” It may be particularly hard to persuade them that the flaws in our lives are innate, that humans have no natural niche, that we have always transformed our environment, and that we have survived thus far neither through fastidious virtue nor through diabolical cleverness, but mainly because of our scary adaptability.  This is why the search for purity is essentially a religious quest, and doesn’t really belong in the political arena.

The art of government, on the other hand, has at least this in common with the science of genetic engineering: It’s an attempt to solve existing problems without creating new ones that are worse.