Finding reliable guidelines is only the first step. To test whether a traveler can reasonably apply these ideals to a real vacation and make a difference without sacrificing real comforts, I decided to take a trip with a mission: to do no harm; to support eco-friendly, labor-friendly, and animal-friendly practices; and to enjoy myself in luxury settings from start to finish. And I would do it all in a place where social responsibility is such an alien concept that the lessons learned could be applied anywhere in the world.

Morocco seemed the perfect destination for such an experiment. This struggling North African country of 35 million—where less than half the adult population can read and unemployment officially hovers around 12 percent—established an ambitious plan in 2000 to create 510,000 new tourism jobs by 2010. Over that same period, Morocco aims to nearly triple the number of tourists from 3.9 million per year to 10 million and to build six new megaresorts along the coast, averaging 20,000 beds apiece. Tourism-related revenue has already jumped from $3.2 billion in 2000 to $6.5 billion last year. Such rapid growth has some sustainable-tourism advocates worried that Morocco might be creating a future marked by low-wage jobs and exhausted natural resources.

"There is always a tendency on the part of tourism ministries to equate numbers with success," says Martha Honey, executive director of the Center on Ecotourism and Sustainable Development, in Washington, D.C. "But you end up killing the local flavor of a place if you put in tons of high-rise box hotels."

Lost In The Wilderness
For me, Morocco as a destination would be particularly challenging. I prefer (for moral reasons) to eat vegetarian and avoid products made from animal hides. This wouldn't be easy in an animal-dependent culture where grazing flocks represent tomorrow's dinner, shoes, and a lot more. An early dilemma: As an ethical traveler, am I supposed to support local traditions even when I have misgivings about the practices?

"It's appropriate to be who you are one hundred percent of the time," says Jeff Greenwald, executive director of Ethical Traveler, a Berkeley, California–based travelers alliance that advocates for human rights and the environment. "You would not expect Muslims to feel pressured into having a drink at your home if they philosophically don't believe in drinking alcohol. There's absolutely no reason why you have to compromise your own moral code when you travel."

Despite such reassurances, I quickly found myself in a wilderness. There is no guidebook for touring Morocco in style and with a clean conscience. When I searched the Internet for high-quality riads (guesthouses built around tree-shaded courtyards) in Fez, Marrakech, Essaouira, and the High Atlas Mountains, I turned up 15 with slick Web sites boasting luxe digs. But when I e-mailed a list of questions about such matters as recycling, linen reuse, and training opportunities for staffers, I received just one reply with real answers. (It came from Marrakech's Riad Farnatchi.) Green Globe, a certifier of eco-friendly properties, had no online listings for Morocco. Intrepid Travel, which brings ethical concerns to bear on its group tours, had stopped going to Morocco because the quality of its accommodations was inconsistent. To patronize true visionaries, I thought, I would need to enlist the help of a Morocco travel expert. I asked four agencies to propose an itinerary for an ethical luxury trip. What I received ran the gamut from helpful to hellacious.