It is a dream world, where chemists can turn a sow's ear into a silk purse, where bioengineers can put a little bit of a sheep into a wolf, or vice versa, and where the life-styles of the rich are beamed by satellite{{U}} (36) {{/U}}every upwardly mobile village on the planet. Thanks to science and technology, more people are consuming a more amazing array of worldly goods than at any time in history.
But beneath the surface all is not well. Like Oscar Wilde's fictional creation Dorian Gray, who stayed forever{{U}} (37) {{/U}}while a portrait of him in the attic aged horribly. The modern economy masks a disfigured planet. The engine of consumption has scarred the land and stained the sea,{{U}} (38) {{/U}}away at the foundations of nature and threatening to destroy humanity's only means of survival. Today's elderly, born at the beginning of last century, started life in a world{{U}} (39) {{/U}}about 50% of its ancient forests still standing. Though far from pristine, it was a world of oceans and land masses teeming with all kinds of life. But those who will be born after the turn of the millennium will{{U}} (40) {{/U}}of age to find that previous generations have squandered and defiled their inheritance, foreclosing some options even as new ones were created. Our grandchildren may have{{U}} (41) {{/U}}to conveniences that further reduce the drudgery of everyday life, but they will also inherit a planet with less than 20 % of its original forests{{U}} (42) {{/U}}, with most of the readily available freshwater already spoken for and much of the arable{{U}} (43) {{/U}}under plough. They will inherit a stressed atmosphere and an unwanted legacy of toxic waste in the soil and water. Missing from the estate will be countless species, most{{U}} (44) {{/U}}out before even{{U}} (45) {{/U}}catalogued by scientist.