Gathered at a seminar table during the Aspen Institute’s Environment Forum was a group of outstanding young leaders, the Catto Fellows, who will help determine the future of our nation, perhaps the world. The Fellows, 20 of them, were selected by the Institute to explore approaches to global leadership and global challenges, through a series of four seminars taking place over two years.

There was a buzz of expectation as the Fellows were asked to summarize the Forum, which explored an often disquieting series of topics. On the table were climate change, species extinction, peak oil, peak food, peak water, and the viability of contemporary civilization in a world being shaped by new limits and new opportunities.

Each Fellow spoke eloquently of the challenges, revealing a depth of understanding and concern that was both commanding and comforting. It’s hopeful to know that bright, active young minds are addressing these critical topics.

However, when asked if they would consider going into politics, most of them declined, agreeing that today’s political atmosphere stifles honest debate and personal truths. One young woman, an executive at Yahoo, bluntly stated that politics is “bullshit” because it is ineffectually mired in special interests. “I chose business,” she said, “because that’s where the real influence is today.”

As I listened to these promising leaders, I felt a refreshing dose of optimism. But it wasn’t only the Catto Fellows who helped brighten my view. I had had my epiphany a day earlier during a discussion about the environment with three panelists from New York City.

These environmental activists described different approaches for practical solutions for their city. They wanted to breathe clean air, improve drinking water and reclaim shorelines fouled by industry. I realized that if environmentalism is alive and well within the tumult of NYC, then it can thrive anywhere. My own eco-passion is derived from wilderness areas, national parks and forests, which inspire in me a fervent moralistic ethic. The activists from NYC are inspired more by a sense of community, defined by a vast urban complex far removed from my reality.

I suddenly realized that human beings are diverse creatures, made that way through evolution as a survival attribute, and that there is no single ethic that will sweep the planet with change. Rather, myriad ethics must rise to the many challenges before us.

I felt hope from the vitality created when diverse ethics converge on common themes. I was humbled to realize that my ethic is not THE ethic, that our challenges are too complex for one vision, one motivation, one set of solutions.

Listening to the Catto Fellows on that final day of the Forum, I recalled how last September I guided them into the mountains above Ashcroft during their first seminar. At the end of the program, during closing remarks, ideas and solutions flowed at such a volume that the time ran over an hour and a half. There was no stopping the flow of constructive energy.

We had planned a last hike to Cathedral Lake that afternoon, but got a late start. When we finally hit the trail, the Fellows spread out in a Darwinian model, with the fleetest fairly running up the trail toward the lake. All felt an urgency to distance themselves from the gravitas of world issues by hiking into the wilderness.

I hustled after the leaders, hoping to rein them in for our planned return to town.

When I rounded a bend in the trail, just 15 minutes below the lake, they were headed back. “We can’t go on to the lake,” they said, obviously disappointed. “We’d like to get there, but we’re part of the group. We need to go back for the others.” As we headed down the trail, the metaphor became clear: Some will always go higher and faster than others, but it’s not enough to have only a few reach the goal.

Turning back for the group is essential for any shared purpose because we’re all part of a larger community. Whether it’s New York City or Aspen, whether we’re Catto Fellows or just plain citizens, we need to travel this path together. It’s the only way we’ll get to where we need to go.

<i>Paul Andersen’s column appears Mondays.</i>