Eco-topia.

ON my first morning in Costa Rica, the world capital of "ecotourism," I awoke to find a maid diligently spraying insecticide just outside my window. Poor thing, she did not realize that a good ecotourist enjoys a healthy biodiversity in his hotel room.

She'll learn. Ecotourism, which began as a left-wing offshoot of the adventure travel business, is the fastest growing sector in the tourism industry, worth well over $200 billion a year. It is loosely described as tourism which has a "low impact" on the environment and which contributes to the local economy (and what kind of tourism doesn't?). Eco-tourism has therefore grown to encompass everything out of doors, save blood sports. If you like a good walk in the woods, you may be an ecotourist too.

The success of ecotourism is fueled by that endlessly renewable resource, liberal guilt,. in this case caused by the fact that people occasionally need to take vacations even while the rain forest is dying. Smart hotel and tour operators have created packages that offer tourists a chance to "do something" about the environment while on vacation. In response, thousands of busybodies are marching south, like a parade of army ants, in search of a guilt-free holiday.

Fun-free too, by the look of things. The dismally purposive activities on offer include researching the habitats of blue whales, experimenting with herbal remedies for AIDS, and testing water samples in the Bahamas. Perhaps the greatest irony is that the liberal classes, who pioneered the idea of paying people not to work, are so thoroughly opposed to any form of unbridled leisure.

Third World governments, from Indonesia to Ecuador, are actively promoting ecotourism as a source of foreign exchange. Costa Rica, a country the size of West Virginia wedged between Nicaragua and Panama, is the undisputed leader of the field.

Costa Rica's eco-chic must be attributed in part to the Left's adoration of that country's politics. Army-less (thanks to the U.S. guarantee of its neutrality), democratic, and perennially incapable of hosting a decent coup, the country has been described as a slice of Scandinavia in Central America. Costa Rica also happens to be, as the scientists say, a "biological bridge" between North and South America, hosting a tremendous variety of wildlife. It is, in fact, a country of great physical beauty (if one may impose a value judgment).

Monteverde is an obligatory stop for all ecotourists in Costa Rica, because it is in a "cloudforest," which is what you call a rain forest on a mountainside. Monteverde was founded by American Quakers who refused to subsidize the Pentagon with their tax dollars (but evidently had no objection to the tax-free benefits of the Monroe Doctrine). Their lasting legacies are a cheese factory and a strict left-wing party line.

Which is the first problem with ecotourism: wherever it holds sway, you can bet that a perfectly pleasant vacation will be spoiled by incessant liberal proselytizing. For example, during one tour of Monteverde the guide announced: "I am sure that you do not agree with the philosophy of a certain Mr. Reagan, who said 'seen one tree, seen 'em all.' " One tour participant delivered a heartfelt apology simply for being American.

The ecotourist orthodoxy combines superficial sensitivity with a profound contempt toward the local population. All roads to prosperity, other than ecotourism, are suspect. The ecotourists particularly condemn Costa Rica's growing agricultural sector because crops and grazing lead to deforestation. However, ecotourist-driven land speculation has raised the price of pastureland to the point where grazing may cease to be a "problem." The country is now more dependent on the whims of left-wing trendsetters than on its banana exports.

Of course, there is another, larger problem with ecotourism: it is counter-productive. It is, after all, a trend which encourages economic development of the wilderness. And not just any old wilderness. You won't get proper ecotourists to stay unless you set up shop in a virgin rain forest that is chock-a-block full of endangered species -- precisely where you'll do the most damage.

For example, in Nepal, one village alone has had to cut down a hectare of virgin rhododendron forest each year in order to heat the meals and baths of eco-trekkers. This, in turn, causes soil erosion, landslides, and floods. Not long ago, a ship carrying 300 ecotourists ran aground off Antarctica. Because it was deemed too expensive to salvage, the ship was abandoned and has spilled 250,000 gallons of oil into an area where some 20,000 penguins nest. In Kenya, obliging guides take their jeeps off trail so that ecotourists can get a better look at the animals they're saving. The practice is now blamed for the decline of the cheetah population in at least one wildlife park.

Meanwhile, back in the rain forest, Costa Rica's Manuel Antonio Park is getting 1,000 tourists a day -- who unwittingly turned the famous howler monkeys into garbage foragers. On top of this, Costa Rica has one of the fastest rates of deforestation in the world, ranking first in Latin America for percentage of deforested land.

The inescapable fact is that ecotourism, even when tastefully advertised on recycled paper, is intrusive. Naturally (so to speak), the ecotourists cannot appreciate that the wilderness --like the economy -- is best left alone.