Regional council chairman Rex Graham this week declared "dire" economic consequences would ensue should a water conservation order for the Ngaruroro and Clive rivers go ahead.
He, and horticultural kingpin John Bostock, warned industries and livelihoods across urban and rural sectors were in peril if hoses were clamped.
The sentimentechoed through Twyford Hall in this week's meeting. Tractors were revving, "Hawke's Bay for Hawke's Bay" was the battle cry.
One could be forgiven for regarding the stance as a little insular and a tad regionalist.
Certainly it's a bit confusing.
Only two weeks ago regional council issued a statement claiming that the Heretaunga Aquifer was exhausted, that takes from the source were "at the limit of what is environmentally acceptable".
So who draws the line? Which and what volume of water is tenable?
The spectre of crunch time for the Fruit Bowl has shone a light on our ambivalence over just how much we're prepared to lose for the environment's gain; that uncomfortable personal juncture where sustainability becomes unsustainable.
I'll hasten to add I'm an example of a mildly green citizen. I solar shower in summer, set the washing machine to"'water save" mode at every load, never wash my car and never spray my garden. (Game changing stuff).
But, should my livelihood be threatened by water restrictions I too would rattle the sabre and start the tractor.
As designer David Trubridge reminded me years back, sustainability isn't about things that last a long time - it's about things that last forever. There's no middle ground.
What makes this harder is that even if we leap into a more dogmatic environmentalism, we'll still never live to see the benefits of our fiscal sacrifice.
Our descendants will, but most, like me, aren't prepared to wrap that gift, or, in Vincent O'Sullivan's words, we see little point in "buttering-up one's embalmers".
The past fortnight's mixed messages from council underscore two things.
The first is that water is all but minted as the new currency - and those who allocate it will be crowned Caesar.
Secondly, it's a contemplative reality that our well-intentioned species still boasts 50 shades of green.
