Editor's note: Who doesn't long for a warm, sandy beach and thatch hut ... with a well-stocked bar and a renowned chef in the kitchen -- in the middle of winter. But if you're heading to an ecotourism hot spot, is it really as eco friendly as it appears? Guest writer Bill Borrie takes on that question.

As the palm fronds sway in the warm afternoon breeze, Johannes Mueller relaxes on the porch of the Bounty Island Resort. He’s glad to be escaping the gloom of a Hamburg winter. Although a committed environmentalist, Johannes doesn't particularly care that Bounty is a prize-winning ecotourism resort. All that matters, as he takes another swig from his can of Becks, is the sun, the quick and easy access to the beach, and that evening’s party.

He was on vacation after all.

So what about all that green marketing and certification that surrounds ecotourism these days? It sounds good, but is ecotourism all it claims to be? Once established, does the inevitable cycle of tourism development change the very environment and local culture that ecotourism is meant to protect?

There are three common aspects of ecotourism. Foremost, it should enable protection of the natural environment. It is said that an elephant in southern Africa is worth more alive than dead. In the short-term, shooting the elephant for bush meat, ivory, or other body parts can be pretty lucrative. But, more money can be made in the long-term from tourists wanting to see the wild elephant.

Secondly, we expect ecotourism to benefit local communities. Many resorts and guides try to hire locals and purchase local produce. But, the profits might go elsewhere, and the constant push to trim costs can mean importing employees and goods from outside the area. The impacts of ecotourism, however, are almost always seen locally. Is it any wonder the host communities wonder who is getting the best end of the deal?

Finally, ecotourism is also supposed to engage visitors with the local setting where tourists can learn about a local culture or participate in a local service project. Ecotourism is more than just a relaxing vacation with a scenic backdrop. Ecotourism is supposed to make a difference.

And therein lies the rub. Johannes, who takes his environmental responsibility very seriously, feels enough guilt at home. He worries so very much about his carbon and ecological footprint. He thinks carefully about what he buys and where it came from. But, on vacation, Johannes just wants to get away from it all. He isn’t seeking more education. He doesn’t want to have to worry about his impacts. He just wants to have fun.

Ecotourism resorts are different; typically comfortable but not overly luxurious. They are low-key, and full of happy, young people all enjoying a full range of adventure activities such as sea-kayaking, snorkeling, and windsurfing. Guests like the relative isolation, the friendly staff, and the close proximity to the resort bar.

And like any good business ecotourism is responsive to the wants and needs of the customer. Which often means isolating the guest from the local reality. For example, tourists need to feel safe so many resorts have become gated communities. Tourists also demand safe water and this can mean an independent or separate water supply. But, sometimes environmentally-sensitive installations don’t prove very popular. Low flow showerheads, low wattage lighting, and ceiling fans (instead of air conditioning) all elicit complaints from guests.

Do we leave our ecological consciousness at home when we go on vacation?/Kut Repanshek

In towns mobbed with backpackers, such as Cairns, Australia, and Istanbul, Turkey, it is not unusual for ecotourists to be found in their own pubs and clubs, far distant from where locals eat and drink. It is just easier, more comfortable, and more fun to relax around similar people with like interests. As a result, these tourists become even more isolated, almost as though they are trapped inside an eco-tourist ‘bubble’. They can see the authentic location, but they struggle to escape their own needs and their own people. It is difficult for tourists to truly see how life is lived by the locals. Instead, they encounter a counterfeit version of the local culture put on for their entertainment.

But, what happens when all of these ecotourists descend upon beautiful places? Typically, we get more places to stay, more places to eat, more traffic on the roads, and more places to spend our money. The cycle of tourism development just seems inevitable. As rare and unique places get discovered and developed, more people are attracted to visit. In response, local business people plan for even greater expansion, seeking even more visitors to fill their beds and tables, perpetuating the cycle.

Soon there is a gold rush as new people move to town. Low-skilled workers seek new opportunities for themselves and their families. Out-of-town investors and managers see opportunities, too. Resentments can fester between young and old, between men and women, and between outsiders and locals.

All the change seems overwhelming and unstoppable. All of those new workers, enthusiastic developers, and outside investors begin to dominate the local communities, changing local politics, and driving the tax base. Now, dependent on tourism dollars, locals see tourism as the only option to fund local employment and infrastructure needs.

Similarly, on the environmental side, once spoiled, much remains spoiled. Habitats are razed, filled-in, and built upon. Much that was once unique or quaint is lost to hasty, often ugly, construction. Older neighborhoods get bulldozed because it is cheaper rehabilitating them. Ports and mangroves are dredged. Waterways are soiled by diesel pollution and sewage. Public access to the coast and the resources of the land is frequently curtailed. Away from the tourism development there is often inadequate infrastructure: poor waste disposal, unpaved roads, and patchy communications, for example. But many of these profound environmental impacts aren’t seen by tourists.

So, while ecotourism is frequently and successfully marketed as a different form of tourism, the guests may not be fully aware of the consequences of their visit. Johannes Mueller certainly cares about the underlying objectives of ecotourism, and it may well have influenced his choice to visit the untouched land, tropical gardens, golden beach and clear waters of Bounty Island. But, he didn’t want to be confronted with the environmental, political, and social impacts of his vacation. The sun was warm, everything seemed idyllic, and the locals who worked at the resort all seemed happy and healthy. Why spoil paradise? 

Bill Borrie lives and teaches in the mountains of western Montana