Some Observers Take a Dim View of Bright Lights

Remember me telling you recently that conflict abounds in our society, that controversy lurks where you least expect it?

I cited a dispute in which biologists objected to high school science students removing bugs from Upper Newport Bay.

Not exactly up there with the prayer-in-school debate.

In short, conflicts don’t get much more esoteric than bug-napping.

Or so I thought.

Now, along comes the International Dark-Sky Assn. to enter the sweepstakes for the year’s Most Unforeseen Bone of Contention.

Last week, I rode around with a Costa Mesa man who convinced me the street lights in his neighborhood were too dim.

Brighter lights, he said, would encourage people to take walks at night.

Completely sold, I pictured a brighter, better world in which neighbors--formerly strangers confined to their sofas--danced and hugged under high-wattage street lights.

I don’t mind admitting, I wept with joy at the prospect.

Who could argue with that?

Enlightened on Darkness

Quite a few people, apparently. The trail eventually led to the 11-year-old International Dark-Sky Assn., headquartered in Tucson and with its own Web site (www.darksky.org).

In a nutshell, the association thinks America is already too artificially bright, a malady that diminishes people’s ability to see the natural beauty of the moon and stars.

Besides that, an association official says, brighter lights don’t automatically translate to greater safety or better aesthetics.

A couple of Orange County men, while not members of the association, echo that.

“There’s a lot of enjoyment in being able to see the stars and the Milky Way, and so few places in an urban area where you can do it,” says Richard Boyer, a 40-year-old San Clemente resident.

“I have to go to the desert or the Sierra to remind myself that, wow, there’s a whole universe out there.”

What people typically get in cities, he says, is a “dull sky glow” caused by inefficient and excessive lighting systems.

Boyer says he supports the dark-sky movement because he grew up with an appreciation for nature’s nocturnal beauty and thinks modern technology has chipped away at it.

He and the association official say that street-light technology often is outdated, mentioning by example that lots of lights in America point upward instead of downward.

“I’ve found myself camping out in the desert outside Phoenix and just lying under the stars and marveling,” Boyer says.

“Every five minutes, you’d see a shooting star. I almost guarantee that if you walk around Costa Mesa, you won’t see any.”

Fault Lies Not in the Stars

Stan Glaser is also a dark-sky devotee.

He lives in Yorba Linda and has rekindled an interest in astronomy in the last couple years.

A nearby city park, he says, is lighted like Edison Field.

“The lights are burning bright almost every night,” he says. “You look up at the sky and you can’t see anything, just a haze. No stars.”

Glaser and Boyer say they understand the Costa Mesa man’s lament about dark streets but suggest darkness and aesthetic pleasure often lie in the eye of the beholder.

Glaser says he went out recently to count stars and came up with 12.

A few weeks earlier in the desert, he says, the number was uncountable.

Liz Alvarez, the International Dark-Sky Assn.’s associate director in Tucson, says she’s never been to Costa Mesa, so isn’t sure what’s going on there.

But, she says, the association’s thinking is that “more is never better” when it comes to lighting and that she’s not convinced that brighter lights would lead to more after-dark walks.

I’m weary of the debate and amazed, once again, at the endless number of things about which people can disagree.

Here I thought I was taking a courageous stand last week in coming out for neighborhood walks. Now, hopelessly confused.

Does the world have to be so complicated?

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Dana Parsons’ column appears Wednesday, Friday and Sunday. Readers may reach Parsons

by calling (714) 966-7821, by writing to him at

The Times Orange County Edition, 1375 Sunflower Ave., Costa Mesa, CA 92626, or by e-mail at dana.parsons@latimes.com.