Darrel,
Thank you sharing this. I think it provides an important perspective, one
that’s perhaps already familiar to many of us on BOO. Respectfully, I’d like
to add a couple of points or counterpoints:
1. While conservation activists have had, as you note, some victories of sorts
which have shifted policy in a “greener” direction -- e.g., Taylor Grazing Act,
Endangered Species Act, wolf re-introduction – there appears to currently be
mounting pressure in the other direction: to privatize significant chunks of
public lands. Maybe that’s not a big problem if those transfers were very
limited, scattered, and went into the hands of ranchers and loggers who
practice sustainably. But it’s naive to think they will. Economic pressures
inherent in our multinational financial world will push towards ownership by
large operators who, as experience shows, seldom harvest resources sustainably,
especially as competition from third-world resource abusers grows. It would
not surprise me to learn that already there may be large sums of money spent by
rich donors and corporations to lobby and fund these “patriot” groups, knowing
that ultimately they and the other smaller loggers and ranchers can be pushed
aside.
2. I have not seen conservation interests arm themselves and flaunt their
weapons the way the disturbed individuals in these militia groups have. Sure,
there’ve been rare incidents of monkey-wrenching by environmentalists, but none
so ominous and virulent as the threat posed by these militias throughout the
entire West.
Paul Adamus
From: 5hats@xxxxxxxx
Sent: Saturday, January 30, 2016 8:13 AM
To: boo@xxxxxxxxxxxxx
Subject: [boo] commentary (long)
Because I have no desire to make enemies, it is with certain reluctance I
offer a commentary on the recent takeover by militants of the Malheur National
Wildlife Refuge. Before offering it, there are a few things I would like to
say. First of all, I am in no way sympathetic to or supportive of the
militants. Secondly, my commentary is not really about the takeover at all,
but about the situation which provoked it, namely the delicate and sometimes
contentious relationship which exists between ranchers and the federal
government. I am in somewhat of a unique position to comment. Having been a
lifelong rancher/logger and birder, I have had often to give consideration to
both the environmental and economic complexities which surround the conflict
between environment and economics. It is not the purpose of this treatise to
convince anyone to agree with me, nor do I necessarily expect anyone to do so.
Rather, it is my purpose to encourage people to consider the complexities of
this particular issue in ways they have not do so previously by presenting a
historical view which is usually lacking from the discussion. To do so I would
like to present here, in full, a chapter entitled "How Green is Your Map", from
my 2000 book "A Voice in the Wilderness: economics, biodiversity, and man".
Darrel Faxon
It takes a long time to grow a tree; much longer to grow a forest. Even a tree
is something quite special. A Western Hemlock, for example, starts from a seed
no larger than that of a carrot, yet may grow to six or more feet in diameter
and two hundred feet in height. A really large Bigleaf Maple may have a canopy
that spreads over nearly a half acre of ground. The root system under the
ground may equal the mass of the tree visible above ground. Smaller species ,
such as Vine Maple which grow in the forest understory, may dazzle us with
their colorful fall foliage. It is small wonder that William Cullen Bryant
wrote, "The groves were God's first temples". The beauty and magnificence of
trees is something that has captured the imagination of man since the dawn of
history.
Beyond this purely esthetic view of trees lies a world of even greater mystery
and wonder. Through a complex procedure known as photosynthesis, trees take
water from the soil and carbon dioxide from the air and process them into the
sugar that cause the tree to grow. The exact chemical process by which trees
manufacture sugar by combining sunlight, water, and air is at best only
partially understood. The way in which water is moved from the soil to the
upper branches of a tree is equally astonishing. It travels upward through a
series of semi-permeable membranes that allows for its passage in a way that
has yet to be fully understood by science, or duplicated by our best technology.
If a tree is marvelously complex, a forest is ten thousand times more so. The
fact that a forest is made up of thousands of trees would make it a very
complex system even if all the trees were the same species. In a natural
forest, they are not. Such forests consist of many tree species, as well as a
complex web of other plants, animals, and bacterial forms of life, but it takes
a long time for all of this to develop. From the time a forest begins to grow
until it becomes mature, it passes through many transitional stages. This
process is known as succession.
It begins with the soil. Far from being simply the dirt in which trees grow,
soil itself is exceedingly complex. Its chemical composition, acidity, and
porosity, the depth of its humus layer, and its vulnerability to erosion vary
tremendously from site to site. Ash from volcanic eruptions, displacement of
topsoil by wind and water, and the decay of organic material all contribute to
a process of continual change in soil composition. The rate at which bacteria
disposes of organic material on the forest floor, and the growth of mycorrhiza
under the surface also add to the complexity of the soil.
The first plants to begin grow in in this complex medium are grasses and forbs.
In temperate regions, within a short time after a forest has been removed by
logging or fire, the ground supports a rank growth of these short lived plants.
Next in line comes a growth of woody saplings. As the saplings grow, the
leaves, needles and debris that fall from the trees begin to build a layer of
humus on the forest floor. This layer of decomposing organic material becomes
host to plants, both with and without chlorophyll, that replace the grasses and
forbs crowded out by the growth of the saplings. Out of this new soil grow
shade tolerant shrubs and bushes, forming a layer of vegetation only a few feet
off the forest floor.
At the same time, the maturing saplings form a canopy over the forest and begin
to produce fruit and seeds. As the forest matures, wind, disease, or some other
factor will occasionally cause a tree or group of trees to fall to the ground.
The additional sunlight reaching the forest floor promotes the growth of a new
generation of trees. As these trees grow, they form a secondary canopy at
mid-level in the forest. the slowly rotting wood from the fallen trees adds new
material to the soil.
At each level of succession the forest becomes host to a great number of
creatures that live within that particular biological niche. Beneath the soil,
worms, moles, and mychorrhiza carry out their unseen duties. Fungi, gastropods,
and bacterial life inhabit the decomposing humus and rotting wood. Each canopy
layer supports different types of insects and birds that feed on them. Fruit
and seeds are a food source on the trees for birds and squirrels, and after
they fall to the ground, for deer and other creatures. Dead trees become havens
for woodpeckers and other cavity loving birds, as well as for bats, flying
squirrels, and woodrats.
By the time a forest is fully mature, which may be hundreds of years, it is an
incredibly intricate system of old, middle-aged, and young trees; living a dead
wood; vertebrates and invertebrates, and a wide assortment of plants. It is
home to a complex variety of living creatures that are utterly dependent upon
it for their survival and have been for generations of their kind.
What the environmentalists are saying, correctly, is that when such a forest is
clear-cut by the hand of man, this complex variety of life is severely impacted
by a creature who is himself not impacted in similar fashion.
The irony of this position is that is has a counterpart on the economic side of
the balance sheet. It takes a long time to grow a person; much longer to grow a
culture.
By 1850 most of the territory which now makes up the United States of America
had already been annexed to that nation. Great Britain ceded the land between
the Appalachian Mountains and the Mississippi River to the U.S. in 1783. This
was followed in 1803 by the U.S. purchase, from France, of the Louisiana
Territory, a vast tract stretching from the Gulf of Mexico to Canada, and from
the Mississippi River to the Rocky Mountains. Texas was annexed to the union in
1845: the Oregon Territory ceded by Great Britain in 1846, and California and
most of the southwest ceded by Mexico in 1848.
Even prior to the official annexation of these lands to the union, in an effort
to raise money and open up the west, the federal government had encouraged a
steady flow of westward settlers. The chief inducement had been the offer of
cheap land. From 1780 until 1800 the federal government offered the public
domain for sale in 36 section townships and 640 acre sections for one dollar
per acre, payable in one year. In 1800 the acreage was reduced to 320 acres
with the going price of two dollars per acre, with five years to pay. By 1820 a
little over nineteen million acres had thus been transferred from public to
private ownership.
In 1820 the law was further modified, with a reduction in acreage to a minimum
of eighty, and in price to one dollar and twenty five cents per acre. In 1841
land began to be transferred from the government to private citizens by means
of private sales rather than public auctions.
After the annexation of the westernmost lands, the government offered even
greater inducements. The graduation law of 1854 made land that had been unsold
for thirty years available to the public at twelve and one half cents per acre.
In the next eight years twenty six million acres were taken off the hands of
the government. Then in 1862 the Homestead Act made up to 160 acres of land
available for free to anyone who would settle it and cultivate it for five
years. The Desert Land Act of 1877 offered 640 acres of desert land for sale at
one dollar twenty five cents per acre if the settler agreed to irrigate within
three years.
With such inducements, it is small wonder there was such a rush of westward
settlers in the nineteenth century. Likewise, it is not surprising that
practically all arable land east of the Rocky Mountains was transferred from
public to private domain during that period.
West of the Rockies it was a different story. Although there was some choice
land claimed by settlers, such as Oregon's Willamette Valley, much of the West
remained too mountainous, too heavily timbered, or too dry for successful
settlement. Thus, most of the farms and towns throughout the West sprang up in
or near the more fertile valleys, and the rest of the land remained in the
public domain.
This disparity between east and west of government owned land can clearly be
seen by looking at a map which shows federal land holdings in green. East of
the Rocky Mountains there is a small block of green here and there. West of the
continental divide, green is the predominate color.
The case is further borne out by statistics. Following is a list of the
percentages of federally owned land in the western states (excluding Hawaii).
Alaska 87.1; Nevada 85.1; Idaho 63.7; Utah 63.6; Wyoming 49.5; Oregon 48.7;
California 46.4; Arizona 43.1; Colorado 36.2; New Mexico 31.3; Montana 30.5;
Washington 29.2. Even more significantly, of all federal lands outside Alaska,
a whopping 87 percent of it is found in the eleven contiguous western states.
When pressure from a growing conservation movement brought about the passage of
the Taylor Grazing Acts in 1934, the fate of the West was sealed. The act
essentially put an end to the transference of land from public to private
ownership. It also empowered the Department of Agriculture to set grazing
quotas and fees on the 142 million acres left in the public domain. With the
passage of this act the federal government became, to the very people it had
encouraged to move west, both a next door neighbor and a landlord.
The result of this disparity is that generations of Westerners have grown up
under an entirely different set of conditions that the ones known to people
living in the East.
The economic conditions are different. Since grazing of cattle is the primary
occupation of many Westerners, the leasing of federal lands for grazing became
the lifeblood of the industry. Much of the western range land is arid. The
privately owned valleys are the only areas where irrigation water is readily
available and where hay for winter forage may be grown. It is essential to keep
cattle off these valley pastures during the growing seasons. The only practical
way of doing so is to have a separate summer range for the livestock. Most such
summer range is locked up in federal ownership. This situation puts westerners
into a landlord/renter relationship with the federal government. The same
principle applies to harvest of timber from national forests. Throughout the
timbered sections of the West, many local economies for decades have depended
upon the sale of timber from federal lands. Regardless of whether one thinks
these situations are right or wrong, the fact remains that the economy of the
West is dependent upon the federal government in ways of which those living in
the East know nothing.
The environmental conditions are different. On the surface, these differences
may not seem to be so great. Although the amount of both human development and
environmental disturbance has been far greater in the East than in the West,
both sections of the country have their environmental problems. If the
Northwest has its Spotted Owl, the Southeast has its Red-cockaded Woodpecker.
If California has its gnatcatcher, New England has its Roseate Tern. If Montana
has it grizzlies, Florida has its panthers. Endangered species and threatened
habitats are everywhere.
Where the real difference lies for Westerners is in how far-reaching the
effects of environmental litigation may be. In the East, where most land is
privately owned, the effects of such litigation may profoundly effect a few
people who are most directly linked to endangered species or ecosystems, but
most people will not need to be personally concerned. In the West, precisely
because most of the land is federally owned, the ramifications of such lawsuits
are far greater. What the courts decide concerning the fate of endangered
species, and how these decisions are applied to federal lands has the potential
of undermining the lives of hundreds of thousands of people living in the West.
Such a potential threat underscores the third major difference between East and
West. The cultural conditions are different. Oh, are they different!
This difference in culture can be properly understood only in its historical
context. It did not develop overnight. From the time Kentucky was frontier, it
was the bold and the rugged who pushed westward. In a wild, untamed land, it
was them against the wilderness. They fought against the Indians. The fought
the wild rivers that impeded their passage. They fought the prairie wind that
threatened their crops. They fought the grizzly bears and mountain lions that
preyed upon their livestock. The enemy may have varied from one occasion to
another, but the object of conquest never changed. They wanted the land.
At every juncture they were aided by the government. The bloody Indian wars
that raged from the 1850's through the 1880's subdued the native peoples and
ended their resistance to the westward migration. The Army Corps of Engineers
dredged and dammed the rivers and laid out routes for roads and railroads. The
Department of Agriculture encouraged the construction and maintenance of
shelterbelts. Bounties were paid on many animals considered to be detrimental
to the safety of grazing areas for livestock. Mountains lions, wolves, bears,
and even prairie dogs all at one time or another had a price on their head.
Governmental policy continually met and supported the clamor for more land.
Even after the passage of the Taylor Grazing Act, the government acted as a
willing landlord to stockmen grazing cattle on millions of acres of western
range land.
About eighty years after American settlement first pushed westward across the
Mississippi River, the cultures of the East and the West began to diverge. Once
the Industrial Revolution had begun, east of the Mississippi an agrarian
society slowly gave way to one based on manufacturing and related industries.
Large cities became the hub of the economy. Pittsburg and Chicago became known
for their steel mills; Detroit for its automobile production; New York for
shipping and banking. As these metropolitan areas grew in their importance as
points of commerce, they also came to be the standard bearers by which the
entire region found its definition.
West of the Mississippi ( and particularly west of the Rockies) towns and small
cities sprang up to meet the needs of local economies, but the axis of the
economy of the region as a whole remained the land.
Throughout the West, the distance between points of commerce and the ruggedness
of much of the terrain proved to be prohibitive to the development of industry.
So did the attitude of generations of settlers succeeding the ones who first
pushed westward across the Mississippi. The object of the single-minded pursuit
of their forefathers - the land - remained the defining point of their
existence. On the land, Westerners have toiled to support their livelihoods. In
the land, they have come to understand themselves. When Westerners whose
families have grazed cattle, cut timber, or tilled the soil for six generations
speak of being cattlemen, loggers, or farmers, they are not simply making a
statement about what they do. They are telling you who they are. The land is to
them both a source of their income and their identity.
With these differences in view it should be obvious that any changes in federal
policy regarding public land will have an impact on the rural West not felt or
even perceived in the East or urban areas in the West. Such a shift in policy
has already begun. Under pressure from environmental groups, the government has
once again placed wolves in Yellowstone Park - but not in Central Park.
Similar changes are likely to follow. At present many people in the East and
increasingly urban areas in the West are pressuring the government to halt all
logging in national forests and all grazing on federal land. They are
pressuring the government to change the primary use of public lands from a
source of subsistence for those who live near them to a source of recreation
for those who do not.
If they succeed, the lives of hundreds of thousands of rural Westerners and a
complex culture which developed, with the government's blessing, over many
generations, will be severely impacted by people who are not themselves
impacted in similar fashion. To paraphrase once secretary of Agriculture Earl
Butz, "There are a lot of people making the rules who are not playing the game".
