KILLING WOLVES is a dramatic and highly controversial wildlife management practice. Alaska has recently proposed this as a way to boost caribou, moose, and deer populations for tourists and hunters.

But many people find gunning wolves from airplanes offensive and are outraged.

The logic underlying the killing seems clear, but the issues are complex. Wolves do kill caribou, elk and moose - especially their young. Reducing wolf populations should increase the numbers of these ungulates, but by how much? There are bitter disputes among scientists over the size of predator impact upon prey populations.

According to Dr. Fred Wagner, Director of the Ecology Center at Utah State University, wildlife managers see three options:

-- First, with no controls, predators and prey will reach a long-run equilibrium with low numbers of both.

-- A second option - elimination of predators - allows herds to rise dramatically in the short term, but in the long run small populations result from degraded habitat.

-- The third way is to moderately decrease predator numbers, providing a sustainable rise in ungulate populations. Alaska seems to follow this third, moderate control option, thereby enhancing big-game hunting.

But the link between predator and prey is questioned by some scientists. They contend that herbivore numbers are primarily determined by habitat, that predators play only a marginal role in determining numbers of caribou, moose and elk. Only renewed habitat, such as that created by fire, can significantly increase populations. And regardless, they say, accurately determining the "optimal" wolf populations is hard to achieve.

What precedents do we have for wolf-control programs?

Yellowstone Park is a prime, if discouraging example. Wolves were deliberately eliminated from the Yellowstone ecosystem decades ago. Like most well-intentioned interventions in ecological and economic systems, the results have been different and more severe than anticipated.

Elk populations in the Park have erupted, causing massive over-grazing and the prospect of mass starvation during severe Rocky Mountain winters. Whole plant and animal species have been decimated, drastically changing the park's ecology. What will be the results in the delicate Arctic tundra?

Wolf controls have been tried in Alaska but without great success; bears, not wolves, were found to be taking the largest share of ungulates. So wolf numbers may, or may not, significantly impact prey numbers in Alaska.

And as Dr. Kenneth Raedeke, a wildlife specialist at the University of Washington observes, "having a brown bear control program, even in Alaska, is not (politically) acceptable." This gets to the heart of the matter: the nature of political decision-making. The decision to control wolf populations was made on the basis of political power, not science, economic efficiency or environmental sensitivity. Wolves, apparently, are thought to be politically acceptable targets while bears are not.

In Alaska, Gov. Walter Hickel and special-interest groups such as the Alaska Outdoor Council, a coalition of outfitters, hunters

and bush pilots, have used the levers of political control over natural resources to their advantage, regardless of ecological effects. They want to make it easier for hunters to kill moose and caribou by increasing their populations, even though, as the director of Alaska Division of Wildlife Conservation admits, "there are no real shortages of big-game animals in Alaska." This is the predictable result of bureaucratic management in a political environment.

As public-choice economics teaches, more than ecological concerns are being sacrificed to special interests.

The consequences, while clear for the wolves, may be equally bleak for Alaska's reputation for its important tourist economy. The state has already received "hundred of letters" protesting the plan. Last week, the National Parks and Conservation Association canceled its 75th anniversary board meeting scheduled for Anchorage. A decline in tourism may match the decrease in wolf population.

By responding to a small, vocal constituency, Alaska's government may have damaged a far broader, but less-well-organized and focused group. This decision once again illustrates the pitfalls of political-bureaucratic natural resource management, where special interests can run the decision-making apparatus to their benefit while ignoring the costs imposed on many.

The Alaskan wolf example demonstrates that sound environmentalism must recognize the dangers of political management. In a greener political economy, environmental management should be guided by science and constrained by economic realities. We can learn from Alaska.