TWICE I've cried in a movie. The first time I was 4 years old and saw Bambi. The second was in 1970, when I saw a tear-provoking "documentary" of a polar bear hunt.

The few polar bears I've seen in the wild inspired awe and admiration. But during this film, a faux-sportsman was flown onto an ice flow where he killed, with a long range shot, a she bear. She had two young cubs who presumably would die of starvation and neglect. This was a repulsive act, one contrived to make sensitive people feel embarrassed to be hunters. It worked for me.

People who share my interest and concern have no easy way to channel their feelings into effective action. As Adam Smith explained, when its hard to organize people, many worthwhile things aren't done. That's why we use government to protect endangered species - to reduce the difficulties of achieving group goals.

But all institutions have imperfections. For-profit firms discount or ignore values lacking market prices. No-profit organizations have serious problems with recruitment and motivation. And when tasks are given to political organizations, decisions are made by political calculus where ecology, economics and equity are trumped by politics.

So we have problems dealing with endangered species, especially those without commercial value. Corporations have weak incentives to preserve their habitat. No-profits find it difficult to mobilize support for species lacking romantic appeal. What about government?

Don Coursey, a University of Chicago economist, considered endangered species for a meeting of the American Association for the Advancement of Science. He identified the key issue: "At a practical level of analysis, the country must decide how much to spend on protecting endangered species and how to distribute this amount among each endangered plant and animal."

He went on to study the actual amount and distribution of spending on endangered species.

Coursey observed that expenditures are determined by a competitive, complicated political process.

Data from the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service showed total state and federal expenditures on 247 endangered species totaled $84,894,000 in 1990. This excludes hidden regulatory costs imposed on people in the private sector.

The 20 animals that receive the most attention and money tend to be "charismatic megafauna," big romantic creatures such as the grizzly bear, woodland caribou, eastern cougar and large birds of prey.

In contrast, the bottom 20 are obscure rodents, insects or snails. In a national survey, Coursey found that those animals that are highly rated by the public receive more money - a beauty pageant of endangered species.

Professional ecologists and wildlife biologists differ from the general public. They weigh ecosystem balance, interdependencies, and genetic information more heavily and advocate systems that enable every species to exist and adapt. They want ecological analogs to Noah's Ark.

But we can't have it all. Choices will and must be made. Noah's Ark is on a budget. And when these choices are made in the political arena, it is the public rather than the scientists' values that drive policy.

Popular versus elite preferences is a classic democratic problem. This creates ecological problems when the public's values conflict with the long term health of most species and ecosystems.

Even when scientists have their technical facts straight and understand ecological cause and effect, they often exhibit naivete when considering political economy. Many advocate keeping species protection a primarily public enterprise.

But as long as it remains with public, political institutions, it is dominated by the general public's values and superficial understandings. Healthy ecosystems require we shield management from misinformation and ill-informed democratic opinions.

Clearly, national and international governments must deal with large scale issues such as atmospheric pollution and migratory wildlife. However, many of the minor ecological treasures neglected by the public, the non-charismatic minifauna, have relatively modest requirements for their preservation.

These are best handled by community-based voluntary groups which include scientists. Private sector, not-for-profit organizations can respond to local interests just as museums and schools cater to specialized tastes. Such organizations can avoid the problems created when profits or political advantages are paramount.

Some scientists have a strong antipathy to property rights and the market process. They ignore private sector innovations and cling to the mirage of benevolent, environmentally sensitive federal government.

Following the Progressive Era myth of "scientific management" the government will someday empower them as philosopher kings of the ecological domain. Finally, they hope, after a 100 years of trying we may have finally got it right with Jack Ward Thomas running the U.S. Forest Service and Bruce Babbitt (temporarily) our Secretary of Interior.

Both experience and theory tell us they are surely wrong. It is no accident that political spending and ecological integrity don't easily mix. In the political calculus, scientific opinion counts less than popular enthusiasm. Non-popular but scientifically well-founded views are more likely to prevail in the voluntary sector. This is where environmentalists should focus their efforts as we seek preservation and sustainable future.