Never let it be said that environmental disputes in Idaho can easily be solved through the unemotional application of facts and logic. That certainly hasn’t been the case in the recent issue of the possible interaction of bighorn and domestic sheep, but the diatribe by Craig Gehrke, et al., exceeds the norms even for our state (Reader’s View, Oct. 14). Let’s revisit the issue a bit.

First, there is the implication that domestic sheep are “disease ridden,” just waiting to share their ill health with any bighorn unlucky enough to share the same airspace. At best, the science on the potential for disease transmission is unclear, with one prominent researcher noting, “Transmission didn’t occur between domestic and bighorn sheep maintained at a distance of 10 meters for one month. … Transmission but not clinical disease occurred when these same groups were maintained with fence line contact for two months.” Basically, the science has never proven disease transmission between the two species in open range conditions, the kind of conditions where the two species coexist in Idaho and throughout the West. This lack of a definitive smoking gun is underscored by the outbreaks of disease within bighorn populations far from any potential contact with domestic sheep.

Never mind, don’t let the facts stand in the way of a good argument. So Mr. Gehrke and friends super-size that whopper with the dire prediction that five more years may well drive the bighorns past the point of no return. Really? Explain then, how bighorns have persisted in Hells Canyon since at least 1990, a 20-year period characterized by continued domestic sheep grazing in the same area. Now, there is no more grazing in Hells Canyon, and the sheep operation in the Salmon River canyon has been sold. So, “problem solved,” to use Gehrke’s words.

What really galls Idaho’s sheep producers is that in 1997, they — along with three state wildlife agencies, the Forest Service and the Foundation for North American Wild Sheep — signed an agreement that removed blame for any disease issues from the domestic sheep operators. This, essentially, allowed the augmentation of the Hells Canyon herds to proceed. Funny creatures that they are, the woolgrowers believed they had a reliable deal, only to find out that such an agreement has no currency in the tortured ethics of the environmental community where the end always justifies the means.

Now, those who have chosen to ignore such good-faith accommodations have made clear their intent to spread the flawed analysis of potential disease transmission used on the Payette to all other national forests in the West with bighorns and domestic sheep. There are about 54 million acres of bighorn habitat within the Western national forests, only 2.1 million acres of which include domestic sheep allotments. However, about a quarter of all the sheep in the nation depend on those 2 million acres. Lose grazing on that land, and you begin to truly impact the nation’s lamb and wool industry, from woolen mills to packing plants to the military, which purchases 20 percent of the nation’s wool production.

For the American sheep industry, that risk tipped the scales, and Rep. Mike Simpson agreed. He’s not looking out for just his friends, as many have alleged. He’s looking out for an entire industry and rightfully so, for the environmental community has overplayed its hand on this one, just as it has in its continued arguments on the wolf issue. The “five-year timeout” envisioned in Simpson’s language does two things — it provides an opportunity for very promising disease research to continue hopefully toward a permanent resolution, and allows time for reasonable parties to find ways to coexist on 1 million acres of national forest lands. Compared to the loss of a significant part of an iconic industry, that’s not too much to ask.

Margaret Soulen Hinson of Weiser is president of the American Sheep Industry Association.