The bulk of conservation-speak comes across as "hippie-speak." I mean, who wants to wear burlap moccasins and drive a recycled cardboard boxcar? Granted, these visions are extreme, but even the most progressive mainstream economists, journalists, and politicians refuse to entertain the notion that the entire 20th Century (and the 21st Century)  have been an ever-inflating bubble. 

A "healthy" economy, to most, looks like an ascent up Mt. Everest, with an arrowhead at the end indicating that the growth will continue upward. The graph you never see is one representing the baseline needs of every person living on this planet (and/or the planet itself). This curve would also slope upward, to account for humanity's increasing population, but the slope would be closer to level. Certain technological breakthroughs might cause the graph to slope downward, as we come to need less energy, for example. 

 Andrew Leonard, in his recent Salon post "Forget about ordering sushi for lunch," he points out that our current reduced rate in consumption is not cause for worry, but a return to the "norm." The spirit of this comment is good, but what calculations have determined this norm? None, that I know of.  

For most, I'd say driving cars is normal; disposable cups are normal; dishwashers and laundry machines in each home are normal; air travel is normal. These things are certainly normal to me -- I grew up with them, like most Americans. But are they sustainable? Realistically? 

I'm not saying I know the answer. I am saying our obsession with a perpetually growing economy -- also known as a pipe dream -- distracts from the basic question, "How much does it actually take to cloth, feed, and house the human race, and how much icing can we put on that cake?" Nobody seems to be asking this question, even though it's the only one that matters.