Access to healthcare supports climate resilience everywhere, but especially in rural America

Salinas River near Greenfield, CA
© Jillian Gronnerud (2018)

Human health and environmental health are undeniably interdependent. Clean air and water, limited exposure to pollutants, a preserved natural environment, and adequate protection from occupational health and safety hazards are a few of the ways that robust environmental protection can support human health. As the effects of climate change become more visible and more severe, so too do the effects on human health and well-being. 

The World Health Organization's overview on environmental health tells us that climate change is profoundly affecting human health: natural disasters, infectious diseases, heat-related illnesses and death, effects on food production, migration, and economic instability are among the direct and indirect impacts. According to the WHO, more than 13 million people worldwide die each year due to modifiable environmental conditions. 

Zooming in on food production, climate change is already having major impacts on agricultural operations around the world. In the United States, impacts manifest directly as higher average air temperatures, changing precipitation patterns, and rising concentrations of atmospheric carbon dioxide. Indirectly, productivity is harmed by changes in disease occurrence and insect and weed populations. According to one USDA report, "research has documented cases where elevated atmospheric levels favor the growth of weeds over the growth of the crop species with which they compete." 

Taking a more nuanced look at climate change effects on the economics of US agriculture, the same USDA report notes that agricultural production is chronically vulnerable to environmental stressors (dry spells, insect damage, disease outbreak), making the added unpredictability of climate impacts unwelcome. In some cases, climate change effects render agricultural operations economically non-viable. 

In a March 2026 piece for Inside Climate News, Jordan Gass-Pooré interviewed a family farmer from upstate New York who stopped growing vegetables because "they were afraid extreme weather events would ruin their crops." Reflecting on the decision, Samantha Kemnah told ICN: "'We really enjoyed growing vegetables [. . .] [b]ut we couldn’t continue to commit to people, to raise food, and then have a hailstorm wipe it all out.'"

Photo Credit: US Department of Agriculture (2016)

A lack of formal, institutional support for farmers like Kemnah complicates the picture further. Diversified farms and smaller family farms face a lack of governmental support, in part because subsidies remain geared toward commodity crops and often come with a minimum base acre requirement. The result? Small family farms are hemmed in by stiff financial conditions and unable to access capital needed to run their business. Recent USDA research reveals that "[m]any farmers face steep hurdles to diversify their crop rotations. More diverse rotations may make management more complex and may require new equipment. Farmers may also need to learn how to grow new crops."

When farms like the Kemnah's are forced away from diversified crops and toward subsidized commodities, they are also driven away from crop rotation and other environmentally beneficial practices that could serve as part of the farm's climate change mitigation strategy. 

Cows in field near Duncan Mills, CA
© Lisa Pruitt (2025)

With a clearer picture of the impacts of climate change on US agriculture in mind, the remainder of this post will focus on one key aspect of the nexus between the environmental and human health. The basic argument goes – and research supports – that access to high quality healthcare might be one of the best preventative measures we can implement to promote climate resilience for American farmers, farmworkers, and the lands they live and work on. 

The recent Inside Climate News article by Gass-Pooré paints a picture of the current relationship between healthcare and those with agricultural livelihoods:

In the U.S., nearly half of rural residents, including farmers, are uninsured or insured by government-funded programs such as Medicaid or Medicare. Nearly one in four people under the age of 65 [...] have Medicaid coverage [...] Now, even this system is in peril as millions of Americans are expected to lose coverage as a result of pending changes and cutbacks to Medicaid [...] As a result, some farmers risk losing their lifeline and becoming uninsured. It would leave them even less prepared to do farm work and to tackle the oncoming impact of climate change. 

These dynamics suggest that healthcare access is not merely a social service for farmers, but a critical component of resilience, both at the individual and systemic level. Rates of work-related death for farmers are seven times the national average. Working in the elements, with heavy equipment, and near chemicals mean that farmers face increased rates of occupational risks, injury, and chronic illness. Demanding work, economic instability, and isolation manifests in the form of mental health challenges at rates far higher than the general population (a 2021 CDC report shows a male suicide rate of 52.1 per 100,000 among farmers and ranchers, compared to 32.0 per 100,000 among male working-aged adults across all occupations).

Despite this risk profile, farmers routinely encounter barriers to care, including provider shortages, cost, and the associated prospect of medical debt.  In a 2022 study by Florence Becot & Shoshanah Imwood, researchers reported that 20.3% of American farm households had medical debt exceeding $1,000, and that 55 percent of these households were not confident they could cover the costs of a major illness or injury.

The concurrent loss of Affordable Care Act subsidies and challenging economic conditions means that health insurance will become outright unaffordable for many farmers. The decision then becomes whether to continue working and forgo coverage – a risky proposition in such a dangerous occupation – or to leave the industry altogether in search of a job that will provide health insurance.

By contrast, Gass-Pooré's article documents describes not-for-profit health plans in Germany, which are not tied to employment and strictly limit how much patients must pay out of pocket. These plans enable farmers to work full-time and "take advantage of reliable government support" as they implement farming practices meant to improve soil health and provide other climate mitigation benefits.

The situation in America is something else entirely. Gass-Pooré summarizes the current state of affairs: 

Climate change makes it harder to maintain a productive farm, health care cuts threaten farmers’ ability to work the land and cuts to the programs that could help with both mean their lives are more uncertain than ever. 

The connections between environmental health, agricultural viability, and human well-being are increasingly difficult to ignore. Climate change places growing strain on farmers and farmworkers, while structural barriers, from limited healthcare access to outdated and failing subsidy systems, compound their vulnerability. 

As this post has explored, improving healthcare access offers a tangible pathway to support both individual resilience and broader environmental outcomes. By treating healthcare as part of the infrastructure that sustains agriculture, policymakers can better equip rural communities to withstand climate pressures while preserving the systems that feed and sustain us all. 

Left to burn: how federal cuts are abandoning rural America's wildfire defenses

My memory of leaving Sonoma County for San Francisco includes a period of about four years where California wildfires progressively escalated in severity, oftentimes blanketing the city in smoke. In 2017, that included ducking inside to avoid breathing in the ashes of the town where I went to high school. It culminated in 2020 with the North Complex Fire causing the orange, alien sky that enveloped San Francisco. That fire was caused by a freak "lightning siege" attributable to climate change.  

My friend took this photo outside her apartment in September, 2020.
(c) Rose Barry, 2020

The Palisades Fire early last year should have emphasized the apocalyptic urgency of addressing wildfire dangers in California and beyond. But in the name of limiting "waste and abuse" the Trump administration ignored this urgency and instead proceeded to cut federal funding to fight fires in rural America. 

The Cuts 

Like the rest of the Trump administration's 2025 efforts, these cuts are as chaotic as they are dramatic, attacking wildfire prevention and response from multiple angles. 

First, the administration cut 10% of workers at the Forest Service. The Forest Service manages Federal land, and many of their responsibilities include fire prevention and firefighting. Fewer workers means fewer people clearing the brush and fewer people trained to fight fires. This puts California in a precarious position, with the Federal government managing 57% of forests in the state. Nevada is arguably in even worse shape, with 86% of their land being federally managed. 

Critics of the policy include members of the previous Trump administration. Former Forest Service chief Vickie Christiansen posits that the policies amount to "$40 million saved now for $4 billion in wildfire expense" later. Ryan Zinke, Trump's former Secretary of the Interior, says that the cuts shift the question of hiring from "'are we paying them enough” (to) “are we even going to have the bodies?'"

Firefighters from Stockton, CA putting out a fire off Hidden Valley Road. 
Source: Creative Commons, 2013.

The administration has also merged disparate firefighting groups from the Department of Agriculture and the Department of the Interior into a single U.S. Wildlife Fire Service. While there have been proposals to this effect in the past, they were previously rejected due to a 2008 Congressional report finding this consolidation had significant drawbacks. The consolidation shifts the focus away from fire prevention and towards suppression. The Forest Service ideally fights fire through its land management duties, and separating the two functions increases the risk of catastrophic fires that cannot be adequately suppressed. 

Despite some of the most high stakes firefighting occurring in rural spaces (especially in California), rural firefighters are often volunteers. As a previous post on this blog puts it, "volunteer firefighting is a rural issue." California has 200 volunteer fire departments, with many rural spaces completely lacking professional firefighters. Communities often fund these departments partially through local fundraisers. As people leave these communities, staffing these departments becomes even more difficult. Willow Creek in Humboldt County finds their department shrinking as calls increase.  Cuts to the Forest Service means these towns already lacking in resources have even less ability to serve their community even as the fire season grows ever larger. 

Volunteer Fire Station in Occidental, CA. 
(c) Lisa R. Pruitt 2025.

 States and localities have also suffered from the suspension of FEMA Building Resilient Infrastructure and Communities (BRIC) grants in 2025, with a lawsuit forcing the resumption of grants only last year. A massive backlog has resulted, with two years worth of applicants applying for one year of grant funding. This affects infrastructure for fire prevention as well as other disasters. 

This backlog disproportionately affects rural towns. Larger municipalities frequently have full-time grant-writers, where small towns often rely on a thin secretarial support staff, if that. These towns have no ability to fund their own improvements, with necessary infrastructure often costing several times the town's budget. 

The Response 

California moved relatively swiftly to counter the Forest Service cuts, deploying $72 million in Cal FIRE grants to "rake the forest" and fast track critical fire prevention projects. While certainly helpful, the State can only work with the 3% of forest land it manages directly and must work with private landowners who own the other 40% of the land. With a majority of the land in California under Federal management, this effort is limited. 

Utah also increased their wildfire funding by $150 million and joined the Great Plains Interstate Fire Compact. The compact enables coordination and resource sharing with other western states to fight wildfires and prevent wildfires. While this likely won't make up for the gap left by the federal government, this more coordinated local effort is cause for optimism. 

The Department of the Interior also announced a $20 million grant to equip "small, remote emergency response agencies with practical, deployable tools," i.e. modern water tanker trucks. While not unwelcome, this targeted funding does not make up for the larger structural damage done by the Trump administration. 

Notably, none of these responses make efforts to alleviate the specific burdens on rural communities. They simply attempt to fill in the gaps left by the federal government's retreat, failing to address the prior inequities. 

Conclusion  

On our current trajectory I find it difficult to be optimistic about anything involving climate change. As a Californian, there are few things that seem more immediately pressing than addressing the increasing severity of wildfires. The current administration's efforts harm everyone by failing to address these systemic issues, and rural communities will bear the brunt of the impact. 

The carcinogenic classification of glyphosate faces new pressure

Glyphosate, the most widely used herbicide in the world, is a controversial product in agriculture due to its potential carcinogenic effects. In 2015, the International Agency on the Research for Cancer (IARC) published a monograph concluding that glyphosate is “probably carcinogenic to humans.” However, in February 2020, the U.S. Environmental Protection Agency (EPA) issued an interim registration review decision (ID) finding glyphosate poses “no risks of concern to human health when used in accordance with its current label.”

© Kristy Ardalan 2024.

On March 20, 2020, the Natural Resources Defense Council challenged the EPA’s ID in the U.S. Court of Appeals for the Ninth Circuit. In May 2021, the EPA requested—and the court granted--a partial voluntary remand without vacatur of the ecological portion. The EPA later withdrew the entire ID, and the status of glyphosate remains under reconsideration.

As of 2026, the EPA maintains that there is no evidence glyphosate causes cancer in humans; there is no indication glyphosate is an endocrine disruptor; that residue on food items are safe for consumption; and that ecological risks are low, with the exception of potential harm to bees.

Despite these conclusions, public skepticism remains high. The widely publicized Monsanto Roundup litigation—through which Monsanto has paid nearly $11 billion to tens of thousands of plaintiffs alleging cancer caused by Roundup—has intensified doubts about the EPA’s classification. Additionally, organizations such as the Environmental Sciences Europe and the World Health Organization have criticized the EPA for failing to adequately consider individuals with heightened exposure, such as farmworkers and nearby residents. The Center for Food Safety has also cited emails between an EPA scientist and a Monsanto officer that suggest “coordinated efforts to undermine the legitimacy of IARC’s… determination.”

White House Easter celebration 2023.

© Kristy Ardalan 2024.

On February 18, 2026, President Trump signed an executive order titled “Promoting the National Defense by Ensuring an Adequate Supply of Elemental Phosphorus and Glyphosate-Based Herbicides.” A related fact sheet states that the order is intended to “protect domestic production of elemental phosphorus and glyphosate-based herbicides” which are “essential to military readiness and America’s agricultural strength.” The fact sheet emphasizes that currently only one domestic company produces elemental phosphorus and glyphosate-based herbicides. It also notes that the demand in the U.S. far exceeds current output, which “gravely endangers national security and defense” including food-supply security.

A particularly controversial provision of the order grants immunity to domestic producers that comply with federal law.

The famously polluted Potomac River in Washington, D.C.

© Kristy Ardalan 2023.

Environmental groups, such as the Waterkeeper Alliance, have strongly criticized the order arguing that “it puts chemical industry profits above public health and clean water.” Granting immunity for industrial chemical producers that follow federal directives makes it harder to hold them accountable for harm to human and environmental health. As discussed in this prior blog post, critics also point to broader legislative trends—such as provisions in the recent farm bill—that may weaken environmental protections, including removing dozens of pesticides from health and environmental safety reviews, granting the USDA power to block EPA health and environmental safeguards, removing Clean Water Act protections that limit pesticide pollution, etc.

However, there are signs of legislative pushback. On February 20, 2026, Representatives Thomas Massie (KY) and Chellie Pingree (ME) introduced the bipartisan “No Immunity for Glyphosate Act” to Congress in effort to undo the February 18 executive order. Representative Pingree stated “If there was ever any doubt about whose side this Administration is on, this Executive Order makes it crystal clear: Big Chemical comes first, and the health of Americans comes last.” Representative Massie similarly argued that “If the goal is to 'Make America Healthy Again,' the federal government should not be using its authority to promote or protect the production of glyphosate.”

© Iowa Environmental Council and The Harkin Institute, Environmental Risk Factors and Iowa’s Cancer Crisis, p. 9. Data from the National Cancer Institute state cancer profiles.

The No Immunity for Glyphosate Act was introduced to Congress shortly before a disruptive report from the Iowa Environmental Council and the Harkin Institute for Public Policy and Citizen Engagement titled “Environmental Risk Factors and Iowa’s Cancer Crisis” was released on March 25, 2026. The report focuses on pesticides, PFAS, Nitrate, Radon, and other industrial contaminants in Iowa. The Executive Director of the Iowa Environmental Council stated that the report “demonstrates clear links between environmental pollution and our health and well-being.” As found in the 2020 census, the majority of Iowans live in rural areas and the rural areas are surrounded by endless fields of corn all likely sprayed with glyphosate. The graph below shows that rural residents in Iowa experience and live around the most dense pesticide application areas in the United States and the cancer rates reflect that.

A map of counties depicting high and low cancer rates

© Investigate Midwest, National Cancer Institute, and the CDC

Iowa’s cancer rate exceeds the national average by more than 10%, with a particularly elevated rates among individuals under 50. The state has the highest number of concentrated animal feeding operations (CAFOs) in the country, a number more than 2.5 times as many CAFOs than the next highest state. With emerging research linking glyphosate and other environmental contaminants to adverse health outcomes, pressure is mounting for legislative action—and soon.

Public lands and rural economies

Over spring break, I took a short trip to Yosemite National Park and hiked the Upper Falls trail. As I made my way up the trail I was struck by the natural beauty of the park and also a sense of gratitude that our society has undertaken the difficult task of facilitating access to these places.

Half Dome and Yosemite Falls from Upper Falls Trail. Source: Chris Hayward (2026)

Something about a well maintained trail thousands of feet up the side of a cliff-face feels just as impressive as massive public works projects like dams and highways, and for good reason. Maintenance of the type of tourism economy generated by our National Parks is a staggering task that is largely undertaken by rural communities surrounding them.

The economic benefits of public lands

The National Park Service manages 17,000 miles of trails across the nation, along with 5,500 miles of paved road, and 25,000 buildings that are in need of constant maintenance and repair. This effort provides massive returns for the U.S. economy that have grown in recent years, as has interest in outdoor recreational activities. In 2024, outdoor recreation activities accounted for 2.4% of GDP. As a proportion of America’s GDP, outdoor recreation is now three times larger than air transport or auto manufacturing, twice as large as agriculture, and larger than oil and gas development. This revenue is especially important in rural states like Montana and Wyoming, where outdoor recreation accounts for at least 4.7% of GDP. In 2024, national parks alone accounted for $56.3 billion in output, 340,000 jobs, and $29 billion for local gateway regions.

The economic benefits of a National Park are nearly immediately apparent in local communities. One study estimated that designation of a National Park causes a 4% increase in employment and a 5% increase in income in communities near national parks within four years of a park being designated. Public lands attract high-wage job opportunities in areas like forestry management and infrastructure maintenance, while generating investment and revenue for local businesses.

Snow, a resident of Priest, CA, relies on tourism to Yosemite for attention. Source: Chris Hayward (2026)

Another study by Headwaters Economics examined the effect of public lands (not limited to the National Park Service) on surrounding communities and found that it provided massive benefits. The study compared the population growth, employment, personal income, and per capita income in western non-metro counties with the top 25th and bottom 25th percentiles of proportion of federal land. Headwaters found that these economic indicators grew two times faster or more in non-metro counties with the highest share of federal lands, though there was a smaller increase in per capita income.

 

Graphic courtesy of Megan Lawson, Ph.D., at Headwater Economics (2017)

The Trump administration and national parks

Despite longstanding bipartisan support for the National Park system, the Trump administration has launched an attack on the Park Service in very classically Trump manner; by slashing funding while politicizing National Parks however possible.

The Trump administration recently cancelled free admission to national parks on Martin Luther King, Jr. Day and on Juneteenth, while instead instituting free admission on his own birthday. As an additional insertion of “culture war” politics into national parks, the Trump administration has removed or censored exhibits discussing slavery, LGBTQ history, Native American expulsion from national narks, and climate change. Further, the Trump administration implemented a $100 per person additional fee for non-residents on top of existing fees for 11 popular national parks, including Yosemite.

Bridalveil Falls Source: Chris Hayward (2026)

In addition to these attacks on the inclusivity and historical accuracy of national parks, the Trump administration has made a series of more concrete attempts to gut the National Park System. In the first half of 2025 alone, 24% of National Park Service employees were fired, resigned, or otherwise departed the agency. The Trump administration has significantly increased logging, oil drilling, and coal mining on federal land, while ignoring National Environmental Policy Act (NEPA) and Endangered Species Act (ESA) requirements.

Continued support for national parks

While national parks are under attack by the Trump administration, public support for the national parks remains strong. The National Park Service is the most popular agency in the federal government, with 78% of Republicans and 79% of Democrats viewing it favorably. There has even been bipartisan pushback on the Trump administration’s attempts to gut the National Park System.

In the summer of 2025, a Trump backed provision intended to sell off large portions of public land introduced by Sen. Mike Lee (R-UT) as part of the “Big Beautiful Bill” was withdrawn after it drew strong backlash, even from other Republican members of Congress. Similarly, the Trump administration’s proposed 37% reduction in the National Park Service’s 2026 budget was rejected by the Senate.

Conclusions

While public support for our national parks remains strong, the Trump administration has still managed to do significant harm in 15 short months since he returned to office. Many are concerned that the extreme volatility of the administration may have irreversibly damaged the institutional knowledge of the National Park Service. Rebuilding the expertise of our federal agencies will be an extremely long and difficult task, but so was the effort to protect and maintain these places in the first place. Thankfully, even many Republicans see value in our parks, even if only for the benefits they provide to rural communities. 

Rastafari roots of plant-based eating

An Ital meal of rice, ackee, callaloo, and veggie chunks.

Source: Wikimedia Commons (2009)

In considering a vegan diet, I imagine a young, progressive urban consumer motivated by environmental or animal welfare concerns. In other words, someone who likely shops at a Whole Foods. In the West, veganism is packaged as something performed through individual consumer choices. That framing obscures the structural conditions shaping diets, and reinforces the mistaken belief that veganism is a modern invention. The “Ital” tradition complicates the popular narrative of modern veganism. Long before plant-based eating carried a price premium in Los Angeles, it was ordinary in the hills of rural Jamaica. 

The Rastafari movement began in the 1930s in Jamaica among the working poor who had been devastated by the global financial crash of 1929 and prolonged colonial mismanagement. These forces created mass unemployment and rural-to-urban migration into the slums of west Kingston. Rastas fled to the rural mountains where they could access land and practice self-governance without persecution.  

Leonard P. Howell, an early Rastafari leader, drew on the practices of Hindu indentured laborers in Jamaica to promote what became known as Ital living. The word “Ital” comes from “vital,” dropping the first letter to emphasize the pronoun “I”. This linguistic practice signals unity with the speaker, the listener, and Jah (God). Ital eating is an expression of “livity,” a Rastafari concept that the individual can embody and express spirituality through the practices of daily life.  For Rastafarians, Jah exists in all of creation, including plants, animals, and people. As such there is a divine force or energy in everything. 

What one puts in one’s body either enhances or degrades this life force. Food that has been processed or chemically altered is considered corrupted and further from Jah’s creation. Life force does not begin at the moment of consumption. Powell’s research participants described farming, cultivation, and conservation as the literal pouring of one’s energy and emotion into the earth. The sincerity of this effort determines how the earth responds and reciprocates that energy. 

Rural Rastafari food is shaped by what the land yields. Coconuts are naturally abundant across Jamaica. They are cracked, drained, grated, and squeezed into milk that forms the base of most dishes. Vegetables and aromatics are sautéed in coconut oil. The food typically contains beans, spices, chili peppers, and the coconut milk, stewed for hours over low heat and eaten communally. A strict Ital diet rejects salt as “a needless adulteration” of what Jah placed on the earth, so herbs and dry seasonings are key. Scotch bonnet peppers, thyme, lemongrass, allspice, and nutmeg build complex flavor without salt. 

The one-pot stew is a practical response to the rural conditions of Rastafari life. Land access is limited, so the range of available produce is narrow. A single pot stretches what is on hand to feed the community. Cooking takes place outside in clay pots often balanced over a wood fire by three stones. Metal cookware is avoided on the belief that it harms the body. 

In Saint Lucia, a young Rasta farmer described conversing with plants throughout their life cycle to transfer positive energy to them. He explained that during planting one must ensure a positive heart is present because this very energy will be transmitted to the earth. The same is true of cooking. Ital food involves preparing food with a clean heart to transfer life force into the food. Food must be cooked slowly, with intention and gratitude. This preserves and transmits the life energy that began in the soil. Food is not just physically nourishing; it is also spiritually nourishing.

Food that is rushed or processed severs the energy force and transmits a lower form. It follows too that food grown under corporate conditions is spiritually degraded. Jahson Peat, who runs a vegan restaurant in London called Zionly Manna, presents Ital as a process of relearning that strips away the method of eating brought about by colonialism. This is inseparable from a rejection of capitalism itself. Commitment to Ital eating is tightly linked to a broader turn away from the imported industrial and materialist ways of life, which are all combined under the Rastafari concept of “Babylon.” 

By contrast, mainstream veganism operates according to market logic. It converts diet choices into an ethical identity. For some, it is an exercise in personal branding, where what you eat signals who you are. This channels genuine ethical concerns for animals and the environment into demand for plant-based products. In this sense, the market-based vegan movement can be seen not as a challenge to the current food system, but a force that risks expanding it further, as seen through the IPO of Beyond Meat. The growth of this plant-based segment does not depend on replacing meat consumption, only on expanding overall consumer demand. The Ital diet is not a consumer identity. It seeks to reject the economic system and the very notion of consumerism upon which it relies. 

However, Ital does not operate entirely independent of market forces. Jaffe’s concept of “Ital chic” describes the convergence of middle-class consumerism and the Ital diet. In Kingston, Rasta symbols have been used to market artisanal soap lines and premium vegetable products. When a brand sells coconut-milk products with Rasta packaging, it co-opts a tradition built on self-sufficiency and places it inside the very market that tradition was designed to reject. This dynamic is similar to that explored in a blog post from this semester about rural tourism. It noted that rural culture is often packaged to meet consumer expectations, with authenticity operating as a selling point. 

Plant-based eating did not begin with a farmer’s market or with a marketing campaign. It owes some of its roots to rural Jamaica, where people grew what the earth offered based on a theological conviction. That story deserves to be remembered before it is repackaged.

The fast and the curious-ly large urban pickup

Acura Integra, Outside of Yosemite, Spring 2025

I have more than a passing interest in classic cars, particularly those of the Japanese domestic market (See some “JDMs” here). I inherited this interest from my father, who has raised me in an exclusively Honda/Acura household. His affinity for Acura began in the 1980s when he lived and worked in Osaka, where he purchased a Honda Quint (now known as a first generation Acura Integra).

My father’s Integra was an original model three door coupe, with a four-cylinder engine that displaced 1.6L of standard 87 octane and produced about 91 horsepower at a base weight of 2,000 pounds. In the thin, often crowded streets of Osaka - and most of Japan, for that matter-  that compact size and its modest horsepower were more than sufficient for his needs. This design philosophy can be found in many JDM cars, with the informal gentleman’s agreement capping original JDM output at around 276 horsepower at the wheel.

Acura watch given to salesperson
for making quota, circa 1990s

Today, I also drive an Integra. It is ostensibly of the same lineage as the original production. (Read more about the fifth generation Integra here). However, despite the fact that my Integra is classified as a “subcompact,” it weighs 1,200 pounds more than the original JDM Integra, typically cruising around 3,200 pounds. Despite this (in my mind unnecessary and deeply upsetting) size update for modern tastes in cars, it remains one of the smallest vehicles on asphalt, with American markets now dominated by SUVs and pickup trucks.

As anyone who drives on country roads in America can attest, one of the common classes of vehicle on the road today is a full-size pickup; think the F-150, the Ram 1500, or the Chevrolet Silverado 1500. Read more about driving in rural spaces on this blog here. ]. Looking closer at the 2024 F-150 as an example, the standard powertrain is a 325Hp 2.7L V6, with the typical model weighing in around 5,500 pounds. That is by no means the top of the scale. Many non-commercial super pickups can go upwards of 7,000 pounds. (For example, read about the F-250.)

In many rural contexts, these vehicles serve legitimate irreplaceable needs. Pickups are necessary for anyone who has to haul in day-to-day life, whether from hunting. (Read more about hunting to eat on the blog here) or work, and their standard four wheel differential transmission is more suited for off road travel than a forward wheel drive or a rear wheel drive. However, these justifications simply do not apply to urban environments. Urban roads are well developed; urban spaces do not typically require hauling of loads in daily life.

Cultural factors help explain the popularity of these monster trucks in situations where their practicality is in question. Much has been said about the cultural ethos associating rural practices with country, blue collar work and conservative politics. Read more on this association. As mentioned, you can’t listen to a modern country playlist without hitting three allusions to a truck. Trucks are one of the most popular vehicle types, owing I believe some amount of success with this association.

That said, I have a serious interest in limiting these vehicles to urban environments. If vehicle choice was purely aesthetic, then I’d let it rest there, with the only discomfort being visual. However, this choice of vehicle is not harmless in an urban environment.

Larger vehicles increase the survival rate of their own occupants while increasing the mortality for others from a collision (A study about increasing vehicle sizes and lethality here). Increased fuel consumption, wear on roads, and congestion are negative externalities that are put onto the public. With every pound that a car carries, its wear on asphalt becomes exponentially greater).

Today, addressing pickups and other automobiles through regulation has regrettably become a culture war problem. Current contentions surrounding car emissions and sizing are much the same as the rural/urban divide elsewhere: idealistic urban elites are intruding on the necessities of rural life. Read more about rural contentions on emissions standards and the adoption of electric vehicles here and here. 

To address this issue in a less controversial way, I propose to localize vehicle regulation. Municipal policymakers should have greater authority to regulate vehicles purchased and used within counties, rather than this power being solely vested in the state and federal systems and resulting in deeply unpopular legislation between rural and urban areas. (One such example involving taxing larger vehicles at the state level here). As such, localized vehicle standards would no longer place unnecessary burdens on rural communities. At the same time, vehicle emission standards should remain federal and state, as air remains shared amongst both rural and urban areas and across state lines.

This increased municipal power could come in many forms. The simplest would be a increased municipal tax of some sort on the purchase and registration of larger vehicles in urban areas. The easiest way to implement this would be an excise "sin tax" on vehicles of a certain size that are deemed unnecessary outside of work purposes. Alternatively, or in addition, bylaws that regulate the usage of vehicles over a certain size in some areas such as parking lots and school zones would serve to decrease congestion and potential safety risks.

My final proposal is to allow the local importation of JDM vehicles that are not marketed in the United States. As these vehicles are often smaller, their fuel consumption and negative externalities are correspondingly smaller. Read about “Kei trucks,” a JDM only smaller pickup, here. Subsidies could also be incorporated into prices for subcompact automobiles and their drivers, preferably those who drive Hondas or Acuras.

By making these vehicle regulations local, cities can better manage their own safety, infrastructure, and environmental concerns without deepening the cultural divide that often accompanies broad, uniform mandates between the rural and urban. I am happy to report that I have no conflicts of interest in any of these proposals.

Acura Integra, Yosemite, Spring 2025

A 2026 Farm Bill enters the House…

On February 13, 2026, the Farm, Food, and National Security Act of 2026, an updated version of the Farm Bill, was introduced in the House of Representatives. Shortly afterwards, on March 4th, the House Agriculture Committee voted 34-17 to advance the bill to the House floor, marking the first major legislative step in process likely to be long and contentious, given the recent extreme polarization on the U.S. Congress.

Supreme Court of the United States in 2023

It's high time for a new farm bill-- the last official version, the Agriculture Improvement Act of 2018, was authorized for 5 years, spanning from 2018 to 2023. Updates to the Farm Bill after 2023 were stalled by political gridlock. Instead of passing a new Farm Bill in 2023, Congress opted for two consecutive one-year extensions of the outdated 2018 framework.

At last, lawmakers are attempting to move forward with a new Farm Bill that will update how the federal government supports or defunds a range of programs affecting agriculture, food systems, conservation, and rural communities across America.

Farm bills have been introduced to Congress starting in 1933. The first one followed the catastrophic impact the Great Depression and the Dust Bowl had on American farmers. In response, the federal government created programs designed to stabilize farm income, conserve land, and ensure a stable food supply. You can read more about the history of the farm bill here or in this prior blog post. Indeed, many posts going back to this blog's inception in 2007 mention the Farm Bill.

Throughout the years, the Farm Bill has grown into one of the federal governments largest and most comprehensive policy packages, typically spanning hundreds or thousands of pages. Programs housed under the Farm Bill include SNAP funding, crop insurance, conservation programs, rural development programs, agricultural research, food distribution programs, and beyond. 

This Farm Bill claims to “expand investments in rural communities, bring science-backed management back to our national forests, and restore regulatory certainty in the interstate marketplace.”

Within the report, two sections specifically caught my eye—the MAHA section and the discussion surrounding California’s Proposition 12. Both sections highlight how the Farm Bill increasingly serves as a platform for broader political debates.

Somerset, El Dorado County, California

(c) Lisa R. Pruitt 2025

MAHA Section
The highlighted MAHA section references the Make America Healthy Again (MAHA) movement within the current administration led by Robert F. Kennedy. MAHA aims to address national health issues. As expressed in the one-pager released by the House Agriculture Committee on MAHA in this Farm Bill, the goals of MAHA are to “renew our lands, reforming dietary guidelines to focus on sound nutrition science, ensuring that rural America has access to quality healthcare, and making whole foods such as fruits and vegetables more affordable and accessible for everyday Americans.”

This Farm Bill codifies recent reforms to the Dietary Guidelines for Americans (DGAs) which include prioritizing whole, high-quality protein and full-fat fluid milk and hard cheeses. This Farm Bill also proposes the incorporation of these guidelines into SNAP which may impact which foods are promoted within federal nutrition assistance programs. 

Sign in Sonoma County

(c) Lisa R. Pruitt 2024

Another initiative highlighted in this one-pager is the establishment of a “local procurement program” that will in theory strengthen partnerships between local producers and the “food distribution community” in effort to ease fresh food distribution.

On paper, the idea sounds promising. Strengthening local food systems could support farmers while improving access to healthier foods. However, the proposal remains vague-- it is not clear (at least to me) who, how, or where these programs will take place.

Another major component of the MAHA section focuses on rural healthcare, an issue that has become increasingly urgent as rural hospitals close and rural healthcare systems become increasingly stressed, as I discussed in this prior blog post.

Clinic in McCloud, California

(c) Lisa R. Pruitt 2018

This bill proposes expanding programs affecting rural healthcare including the Distance Learning and Telemedicine Program, the Community Facilities Program, and the Rural Hospital Technical Assistance Program (RHTAP). RHTAP is codified within the bill with the goal of “improv[ing] the financial and operational sustainability of rural healthcare facilities, bolstering essential health services for rural residents and preventing hospital closures in their hometowns.” This program originally received funding through the Rural Development Hospital Technical Assistance Program Act of 2025, which appropriated up to $2 million per year from 2025-2029. The proposed Farm Bill extends that funding window, restating the maximum funding for the fiscal years 2027-2031. As I mentioned in this blog post, politicians use policy packages such as this to signal their support of rural farms, families, systems, etc.. Yet the monetary value proposed in each case is insignificant to the cause. Here, $2 million spread among the countless rural healthcare systems that are in serious need is negligible.

Proposition 12 Section
Another section highlighted by the House Committee on Agriculture focuses on California’s Proposition 12 (Prop 12), one of the most controversial livestock welfare laws in the United States. Passed by 63% of California voters in 2018, Prop 12 prohibits the sale of certain pork, veal, and egg products in California unless they are produced according to certain animal welfare standards. These standards focus on enclosure size compliance. 

Chickens in transportation truck in Northwest Arkansas

(c) Lisa R. Pruitt 2017

Corporations like the National Pork Producers Council (NPPC) advocate for repealing Prop 12 to allow for the sale of animal products from animals raised in smaller and confined spaces. The American Farm Bureau Federation and the National Pork Producers Council brought suit against the California Department of Food and Agriculture asserting that Prop 12 violated the Dormant Commerce Clause. The Supreme Court upheld Prop 12, yet the current administration and House Republicans have attempted to overturn the decision and influence public opinion or legislatures not to support it anymore—for example, through this one-pager. In this one-pager, the House Committee on Agriculture calls Prop 12 “arbitrary and unscientific.” They state that “retail pork prices in California have increased 18.7% compared to a 6.3% increase nationwide. They then state that “[c]ompliance costs disproportionately affect small and mid-sized producers, who face tighter margins and less access to capital.” While small or mid-sized facilities may be affected more than large ones, Prop 12 has been fully in effect since 2022. I support Prop 12 and find that since the majority of California voters supported it, the NPPC and the MAHA movement should reassess their priorities.

Ultimately, the Farm Bill has increasingly incorporated broader policy debates, but the 2026 rendition highlights how influential national debates and administrations can be on this hallmark legislation. Programs initially intended to support farmers, rural communities, and ecological conservation are now debated at length in an effort to gain an inch of power or influence. However, a new Farm Bill was desperately needed to address the everchanging landscape—especially post-COVID and entering a likely recession.

Waterlogged boundaries, the case for bioregionalism, and its unfortunate demise

Fording a river, Grouse mountain, British Columbia, Summer 2021

If you’ve ever been in the Pacific Northwest, you've seen the local “uniform.” Amongst the water-resistant (nothing is waterproof!) Carhartt pants, flat-billed trucker hats, and colourful spectrum of flannels, there is a waterproof jacket in the armoury. This jacket must have a hood so that you do not need an umbrella, a sin that only a tourist would make.

A bad idea, Squamish mountain, British Columbia, Spring 2022

The jacket is necessary because in the wet winter months, any person caught on the scenic trails of Squamish (known for the Chief, one of the largest granite domes in the world) would think that Noah’s flood was upon him, that the sun would never reappear, and that rain has so consumed reality that any imagination of the world can only find a cloudy mist covering a canopy of pine trees. In short, the water cycle of the PNW calls for the jacket.

In contrast, in a place like the Central Valley, deciding how to dress requires taking into account the overhead sun and the dust. Therein lies the non-ironic donning of cowboy hats and boots respectively (A recent blog post about western apparel is here). Continue further east on the Interstate 70 past the plains and the Mississippi river and you will find the habit of tucking long sleeve shirts into pants, which are then tucked into socks, a necessity in the tick laden bushes of Appalachia. (A study from Nebraska Medicine about the migration of tick populations west).

Each of these clothing outfits make sense in the place where they are adopted. Sartorial culture reflects the ecosystem hydrological and biological of the region where people live. This understanding is one key tenet of bioregionalism. Bioregionalism (defined by one non-profit here) is a philosophy which holds that political systems should reflect naturally definable, local regions rather than artificial political boundaries. (Read more about this philosophy as taught by a Bay Area theatre here). Bioregions are drawn by the natural lines drawn by watershed boundaries, topography, as well as the socio-cultural human histories of the area.

10% water capacity, Lake Hensley, California, 2025

Bioregionalists seek several core goals: including matching political boundaries with the aforementioned bioregions; prioritizing the usage of local resources and materials; and building regional sustainability and supply chains rather than global ones. This local focus benefits the making of policy that is suited to local ecological needs, rather than the difficulty of federal or state systems that cannot possibly take account of all local conditions and ecosystems. (Read more about federal funding to rural water systems here)

Current political divisions force rural and urban communities into statewide policy frameworks that, through competing interests and compromise, can poorly fit all. Agricultural water use in arid basins is legislated alongside, and often in, coastal zones where the flow of rivers can power 98% of electrical grids (read more about BC Hydro here). Or consider the current issue of the banning of or restriction of gasoline vehicles being impractical in rural regions that remain dependent on generators and gasoline vehicles (read more here).

Currently, the rural-urban divide is often framed within a structural power antagonism, where cosmopolitan elites- with vastly greater urban resources- intrude on traditional rural communities. The physical distance between these two groups sharpens these perceived differences. These urban elites live far from rural denizens, often in ecosystems that are vastly different. Consider the common epithet, “coastal elite.” (Read more about water disagreements between the rural and the urban here and here).

As the reasoning goes, how could someone in the Bay understand the water struggles of the Central Valley? A bioregionalist approach would instead link governance between metropolitan and rural communities wherever and whenever they are linked by watersheds and water cycles requiring literal downstream cooperation.

Of course, bioregionalism is not without flaws. Even from this brief inventory of bioregions, readers will see issues with assuming histories and shared interests in fluid boundaries that are anachronistic, ambiguous, and would be contentious and complex to draw. Land-based identity idealizes lives that are pre-urbanization, occasionally even pre-industrialization, and is often isolationist and exclusionary of any political change as a result.

In a globalized economy, high technology requires supply chains that cannot be localized efficiently, or at all. Anything that would require national coordination (national defense, macroeconomic policy, large scale infrastructure projects) would be difficult if not impossible under bioregional governance. Of course, there is also the potential of extreme inequality between natural resource-rich and natural resource-poor regions. Without national redistribution and the needs of national and global economy, spatial inequality would be all but guaranteed.

I finish with a point about Cascadia, the former bioregionalist movement stronghold within the PNW that spanned from Juneau, Alaska to San Francisco. Prior to the 47th American president, most money spent within Cascadia, (defined here, as in my heart, as Oregon, Washington, British Columbia), remained within Cascadia. Now with rising tensions between the United States and Canada, this seemingly unbreakable cross-border relationship is strained by the Canadians' general boycott of American goods (read more). Alas, the Cascadian identity, nascent if it ever truly existed, has yielded to national lines for now.

Superbloom, California, 2017

Sale of Loyalton Ranch and land return in California's historic gold country

Willows along the Creek at WélmeltiɁ Preserve.
Photo courtesy of Feather River Land Trust.

On February 10, the City of Santa Clara finalized the sale of Loyalton Ranch, a scenic 10,274-acre property located 35 miles north of Lake Tahoe, to the Washoe Tribe of Nevada and California. The property will now be known as the WélmeltiɁ Preserve and will be held by the Washoe Tribe's newly-created Wašíᐧšiw Land Trust.

The City of Santa Clara purchased the property in 1970 for $1.6 million, with hopes for potential geothermal energy development. The projects never materialized, and in 2024, much of the property was razed by a wildfire. A heretofore divided city council came together to look for a buyer.

The deal came together with the help of a $5.5 million dollar grant from the California Wildlife Conservation Board, a state agency, and support from private foundations and donors. The acquisition results from a successful collaboration between the Washoe Tribe of Nevada and California, the Feather River Land Trust, the Northern Sierra Partnership, and other conservation organizations and public partners. 

This sale is significant for its status as one of the largest land returns in California history, and the largest in the Sierra Nevada. The land area contains over 30 protected-status species, herds of pronghorn deer, golden eagles, and mountain lions. Twenty-seven miles of creeks and numerous springs on the land feed the headwaters of the Middle Fork of the Feather River. Beyond the boundaries of the Preserve, this project represents a step toward re-establishing tribal management of lands in the fragmented landscape characteristic of much land in the Sierra Nevada. 

Map of Project Area reveals checkerboard land ownership
in the region. Photo courtesy of Sierra Sun.

To understand the significance of land return in the Sierra Nevada, it is useful to examine the federal policies that contributed to the fracture of tribal landholdings. In 1862, Congress passed the Pacific Railway Act of 1862, granting millions of acres of public land to railroad companies to finance construction of the transcontinental railroad. The statute created a "checkerboard" pattern of alternating private and public sections along the rail corridors, permanently reshaping land ownership across the West. 

In California and throughout the Sierra Nevada, this pattern consolidated vast tracts in private hands, often without regard for existing tribal presence. The legacy of that policy remains visible today in the fragmented ownership patterns that complicate cohesive land management and habitat restoration efforts. 

This post examines the myriad potential benefits of land return efforts like the one here in the Sierra Nevada. First, returning land directly to ancestral stewards creates new opportunity for Traditional Ecological Knowledge (TEK) practices to flourish. California wildlife agencies recognize TEK to some extent, and these practices are increasingly integrated alongside western conservation methods, but the ability of tribal land managers to direct conservation efforts means TEK and place-based management can take place more readily. Second, greater focus on opportunities for land return in the Northern Sierra Nevada presents a viable way out of the strange pattern of private inholdings and "checkerboard" arrangement of public and private lands. 

Map of checkerboard land surrounding Lake Tahoe.
Map courtesy of  Truckee-Donner Historical Society.

Returning land to tribal stewardship provides tribal community members with meaningful opportunities to reconnect with ancestral lands. In the case of the WélmeltiɁ Preserve, tribal leaders and conservation partners said the acquisition represents a major step toward addressing generations of displacement:

“The return of this land is deeply meaningful for our people,” said Chairman Serrell Smokey of the Washoe Tribe of Nevada and California. “These lands are part of who we are and have been stewarded by the Washoe people since time immemorial.” [. . .] "This return is about more than acreage," said Corey Pargee, executive director of the Feather River Land Trust. "It's about restoring stewardship to the people who have cared for this landscape for thousands of years." 

Access to culturally significant sites strengthens intergenerational knowledge transfer and traditional practices tied to specific landscapes. Land return thus supports not only environmental restoration, but also cultural continuity and community health. 

Land return also removes administrative barriers that often limit the used of TEK as a primary conservation framework. When tribes hold title to land through tribal governments or land trusts, they can design management regimes that respond to local ecological conditions and long-standing cultural priorities. These strategies may even go on to inform and strengthen regional conservation efforts.

Finally, increasing the number of tribally managed acres in the Northern Sierra boosts possibility of greater habitat connectivity, more cohesive management regimes, and increased climate resilience. Larger contiguous areas under aligned stewardship reduce the inefficiencies created by fragmented ownership. Coordinated management improves wildlife corridors, watershed health, and fire resilience.

Land return efforts like the creation of the WélmeltiɁ Preserve demonstrate how restorative justice and environmental stewardship can move forward together. These projects have the potential to repair both social and ecological systems in the Sierra Nevada. In the Northern Sierra, land return offers a path toward a more equitable and ecologically coherent future.