Buffalo National River watershed finally gets permanent protection from industrial agriculture

I've written a great, great deal about the Buffalo National River over the years, including when a hog CAFO was sited on the banks of one of its tributaries in 2012.  After a great deal of wrangling, that CAFO was ultimately bought out by the State of Arkansas for $6.2 million under former governor Asa Hutchinson.  

Here's an excerpt from a post about these recent events on Arkansas Outside, which explains that .  

The Arkansas Legislative Council on Friday gave final approval to a permanent moratorium on medium- and large-scale hog concentrated animal feeding operations (CAFOs) within the Buffalo National River watershed, cementing over a decade of advocacy from conservation groups and marking a significant milestone in the state’s environmental policy.

The decision, passed without debate, follows years of temporary protections and stems from heightened concerns about the impact of industrial swine farms on water quality in the nation’s first designated national river. The new rule permanently bans CAFOs, as defined by the Environmental Protection Agency, that are medium or large in size, based on animal count and waste production.

Environmental groups, including the Buffalo River Watershed Alliance, the Ozark Society, and the Arkansas chapter of the Sierra Club, hailed the decision as a crucial step to safeguard the river’s karst terrain, which is particularly vulnerable to groundwater pollution.

The move follows years of public outcry sparked by C&H Hog Farms, a large-scale swine operation permitted in 2012 under a general permit process that lacked public input. The farm, located near the town of Mount Judea, drew criticism and concern after manure from thousands of hogs was applied to fields near tributaries that feed the Buffalo.

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Agricultural interests, including the Arkansas Farm Bureau and the Arkansas Cattlemen’s Association, opposed the permanent moratorium. In comments to the state, they argued the ban was based on public perception rather than scientific evidence, and they warned of regulatory overreach that could limit farmers’ land use rights.

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The rule change came under the broader context of Senate Bill 290, legislation initially intended to overhaul the state’s rulemaking process. The bill was amended during the legislative session to preserve moratoriums on CAFOs in the Buffalo River and Lake Maumelle watersheds. Future bans will now require legislative approval, reducing the ability of state agencies to act independently.

Governor Sarah Huckabee Sanders, who has expressed support for protecting the Buffalo River, reportedly threatened to veto the original version of the bill until amendments preserving the moratorium were included.

Read more about this year's legislative wrangling over the Buffalo and CAFOs here.  

A sustainable transition (Part V): How and why

If you’ve read the preceding blog posts in this series, thank you for sifting through my life as I try to sift through these issues. Here is the crux of it all: 

I offer three main reasons by which localized renewable infrastructure situated on brownfield sites is a legitimate—and possibly necessary—component of the green transition.

First, giving local control of renewable sites to rural communities would allow these communities the financial wiggle room to transition. There is no payment plan directed only directed at the individuals affected, which may prove problematic if it incentivizes individuals to merely stockpile that money as they search for other employment. The primary benefit of this program, if properly enacted by the local government, would serve as a form of Universal Basic Income to the entire community. This mirrors the Alaska Oil surplus payment program, which has been well-received by the community and has been compared to a “Universal Basic Dividend.” Such a scheme would also not require an application process and a congressionally allocated stockpile of dollars, which has doomed the other federal transition policies. 

Furthermore, now that this community has a bit of a financial windfall, it could stock its own coffers and be more protected from fiscal spin. It could also use that excess energy to improve the quality of life of the area by subsidizing air conditioning and heating or alternatively diversify its economy into more energy-dependent fields like coding, telecommunication, and business. Finally, the community could even sell the excess energy as a source of local revenue. 

Second, by benefiting cities, any city initiatives in funding nearby rural areas will be seen as investments in a collective future, not a bailout of “the other.” Not only would a decentralized grid lower costs for cities, but it would also reduce the strain on the grid for times of emergency. While an isolated power grid can be disastrous, one that is independent but still connected could provide necessary power in times of strife but cut back on the possibility of overextension. This is further bolstered by the fact that many fossil fuel communities are located where things have died, not where there live. While humans tend to settle along water, arable land, and protection, fossil fuel communities spring up around and because of a resource, including Death Valley. 

Third, by harmonizing rural-urban relations, communication is fostered between rural and urban areas, instead of a game of telephone between corporations who have every interest in disrupting this transparency for their benefit. By eliminating the corporate middleman, we can start to have an honest conversation of what we both need, and what we can both provide. Yes, rural areas provide the majority of food, energy, and natural resources, to urban areas. But they do so through corporations. In this proposed solution, cities and rural areas would be able to negotiate with each other and see each other. And yes, the conversation may not always be fully amicable, but I believe that to be necessary to establishing a more proper relationship between these social units. 

What I advocate is not necessarily a just transition. I do not have a plan to introduce similarly lucrative jobs into a community. What I advocate is not necessarily environmental justice, as pure environmental justice would balk at neutering brownfields that might otherwise be more fully remediated, and argues for some degree of infrastructure in places that have been heavily damaged by industry. But what I advocate is some consideration that as we transition, we need a safety net, and as we pursue environmental justice, we cannot paternalistically deny a community’s decision to take on the costs of such a project. What I advocate is a fully transparent, remedial, and voluntary middle ground between just transitions and environmental justice, and a way to harmonize the Economy and Environment components of the sustainable development triangle. A transition can’t happen overnight, and justice forced on an unwilling participant is rarely just. So, there it is, and there I’ll let it lie.

A Sustained Transition (Part II): Place, Personality, and Progress

Leo Tolstoy’s novel Anna Karenina opens with “All happy families are alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way.” This beautiful opening, once mulled over and mulched through by a stable of intellectuals and thinkers, birthed the “Anna Karenina Principle,” which dictates that a deficiency in any one of a number of factors results in failure, while success requires that every possible deficiency has been avoided. That is, while the avoidance of failure is not sufficient for a successful condition, it is necessary. This does not deal with personal or metaphysical concepts of success, but rather individual iterations of success. In plain language, a successful outcome requires an absence of failure, as explained below. 

My favorite example of this principle is in examining why so few species have been domesticated. Six groups of reasons have been advanced, and for a species to be domesticated, all six must be satisfied. Garbage-disposal type eaters have a diet that allows fluctuations in feed;  a quick growth rate allows for slaughter or servitude; complicated mating rituals requiring privacy or protracted time will rule out a species from the day-to-day speed of human transaction; hale beasts cannot also have a hard-headed temperament; an animal that is prone to fighting or flighting with vigor will prove difficult to control; and a herd-mentality makes for a good herd—independence goes against the grain. 

As stated in Part I of this series, the current literature about a green transition fails to consider how we keep fossil fuel communities alive. “Just transitions” protect individuals from the loss of their livelihood. “Environmental justice” protects places from the intrusion of pollution and other environmental costs. But there is no meaningful discussion about how to protect the communities, once the fossil fuel aspect is removed. Just transitions could easily incentivize a worker to leave their community to find work elsewhere. Environmental justice could easily incentivize urban siting of renewable industry and infrastructure. While this reduces pollution in rural areas, it could also remove much-needed economic infrastructure in these areas. 

Furthermore, a fossil fuel town is not comprised of barracks of derrickhands. It is a community with retail workers, teachers, retirees, and so on. The concept of just transitions is insufficient in that while it compensates workers, it does not compensate the community that will also be affected by the loss of these jobs. It is one thing to ask a person to give up their livelihood. It is another to ask them to give up their life. 

I don’t mean a true death, but the death of a person’s routine, community, friendships, proximity to family, and even their home. This transition is arguably not “just” if it simply compensates workers and does nothing to preserve the community in which they live. 

Therein lies the Anna Karenina principle, as applied to the green transition:  failing to incorporate a plan to maintain these communities represents a deficiency that is simply unacceptable to rural people. Even if people are willing to accept new jobs, they aren’t as willing to accept lives that are altogether new. 

The rural concept of “place” is not wholly urban, but land use and a strong relationship between existing buildings and the landscape can be helpful in discussions surrounding what it means to be rural. Furthermore, Paul Cloke advocates, in his handbook of rural studies, that “scholars are continuing to recognize and study community as both an important social scale of analysis and a cultural unit in the discourses and social relations that shape people’s experiences.” 

This is echoed by a brilliant quip I heard earlier in the semester, that “you aren’t from a town until your great-great-grandfather is buried there.”

 On the other side of the coin is the notion of work. In academic circles, two groups of “low-status whites” are separated by the idea of work—generally speaking, “the settled working class” work consistently while the “hard living” do not. Staying on the right side of the ledger is paramount to staying in the good graces of the community. If you’re not working, you’re draining a bit of that that little we have. Back in my bartending days, I had a friend laid off. I asked him if he was pursuing welfare and he said, “No. Not only am I taking welfare, I will have had taken welfare. I don’t want that following me around. You think a wife wants a husband who has scraped by on somebody else’s dime when they still have poverty? It'm struggling, but I'm not poor.” 

I think, in some way, the social safety net is thought about as something that you grab as your falling, not as your stumbling. If you’re still vertical, your compatriots expect you to grab it and deny it, as you stay upright. The safety net is for those who have fallen, not those who are falling; and they should be the one who lands ok. If enough of us stretch out the net, landing on it is going to feel like concrete instead of cool water. 

Past transition attempts have been insufficient in mono-economic communities. For the sake of simplicity, here is what I will give as the definition: Mono-economies refer to economic systems that rely heavily on the production and export of a single crop or resource, limiting economic diversity and often leading to vulnerability. These economies are typically characterized by their dependence on external markets for a single commodity, which can create significant risks when market prices fluctuate. It is best to think of a fossil fuel economy, and other extractive communities, as a subset of a mono-economy. Detroit was the car manufacturing capital of the world, and when this industry collapsed so did the economy of the surrounding area. IBM Endicott employed the majority of the Endicott, New York in producing computers, and the decline of the manufacturing economy took its toll quickly and ruthlessly on the area, as the company transferred these operations to larger U.S. cities and overseas. 

Much in the same way, an economy predicated primarily on fossil fuel extraction will leave itself open to collapse if that resource collapses. While there are numerous examples, the “boomtown” model represents the stark dangers of a mono-economy, where a massive influx of workers to extract a natural resource of an area can lead to the wholesale collapse of a town when such extraction is no longer feasible, Analyzing these examples together reveals the same patterns of transitional insecurity. Pardon my French, but how do you pull piglets off a sour tit? I think in our calculations of what to do, we miss that there are fathers on the foot of beds, stinking of coal and oil and gas, and telling their sons that they have the same opportunity to keep the family afloat if they just start working in these industries. 

I will be as brief as I can here, because if you really want to get a masterful analysis of these policies, you should read Ann Eisenberg’s Just Transitions article. Within it, she analyzes four federal transitional policies— (1) The Trade Act of 1974, (2) The President’s Northwest Forest Plan, (3) The Tobacco Transition Payment Program, and (4) the POWER initiative. There were common problems with all of these programs, but there are four that I want to highlight. 

First, the Trade Act did not meaningfully combat the increased competition for displaced workers, resulting in nearly forty percent of those workers unable to find new jobs within one to two years after job loss.  Second, the President’s Northwest Plan did not create any meaningful jobs—it paid out money to individuals but did little to “provide long-term economic growth and security” for former timber counties. 

Third, the Tobacco Transition Payment Program paid out compensation to those engaged in the trade but ended up compensating large tobacco corporations (the same ones that invested aggressively in science-denial) far more than they did individual farmers. Fourth, the POWER initiative, though focused on direct payments to workers affected by the coal and power industry, has failed to make its way out of congress.  Even when there is a way to compensate workers, other warring interests can prevent that compensation. 

Further complicating this relationship is a deep shame inherent in some rural communities associated with engaging in social safety nets like welfare. This is described in depth in Arlie Hochschild’s “Stolen Pride” as well as J.D. Vance’s “Hillbilly Elegy.”  There is also Jennifer Sherman’s book, Those Who Work, Those Who Don’t. In these highly proud communities, it is not enough to tell a breadwinner that “those who work, just can’t anymore.” By providing a payment, you are injecting much-needed money into a family unit. But that is a spitball of gauze aimed nicely into a mortal wound. A lot of these people consider work their worth, and a government payout is not only insufficient, but can even be insulting.

So, a transitionary process that merely pays out money to individuals (especially any payment plan which has to be sought out instead of merely given) will not be sufficient. 

Finally, there is also the problem of “fiscal spin,” wherein communities that hemorrhage people are stuck in a tailspin. As people leave, there are less taxes to support local infrastructure and improvement. With less taxes, these projects are abandoned or delayed. As these projects are abandoned or delayed, the quality of life in the area deteriorates. As the quality of life deteriorates, more people leave. As more people leave, the cycle continues. Similarly, when jobs evaporate, so too can labor unions. As labor unions evaporate, so too does their connection to the Democratic party. Furthermore, governmental regulations can disallow local governments from retaining revenue from new wind and solar projects, while exempting oil and natural gas revenue, thus incentivizing both profits and dependency. 

People cling to what they have and viciously defend what they once had. Thus, any just transition has to incorporate employment but also livelihood. How do you approach this problem fairly when the green transition is not only taking away jobs, but the primary jobs associated with a community? All this rigmarole dictates the following simple premise: the green transition must compensate communities as much as it aims to compensate individuals.

A sustainable transition (Part 1): Sustainable development and the green transition

Up until mid-twentieth century, miners would carry bright yellow canaries down into coal-blackened tunnels to carve out a meager living from the walls. Canaries are particularly sensitive to carbon monoxide, an odorless gas which can cause drowsiness, weakness, loss of consciousness, and death. Mining is hard, physical work, and miners would often fail to recognize the symptoms of carbon monoxide poisoning. The common canary exhibits distress in the presence of carbon monoxide poisoning and will die well before a human would begin to feel the effects of carbon monoxide poisoning. Thus, miners began to bring canaries down to warn them of the presence of the gas and thus escape its effects.

Although canaries helped save the lives of miners, the miners’ livelihoods are not threatened. Climate change and the pursuant public pivot away from fossil fuels, market volatility, the inconsistent distribution of mineable materials, and an increasingly globalized economy, can all contribute to significant job loss amongst miners. Furthermore, a miner's livelihood is tied to the amount of material present in the mine

A mine exists to extract a metal or mineral, and when the supply is exhausted, the mine is worthless supply, it is worthless. In addition, global politics and shifting market demand can lead to sudden and premature closure of otherwise stable mines, with with the workers the first to feel the impact of these shifts.  While whole swaths of miners lose their jobs, the owners of the mines feel relatively little impact. Ironically, coal workers can function as the “canary in the coal mine” for the coal industry itself. This is true for many extractive industries such as timber, oil, and natural gas. 

Furthermore, there are entire communities that depend on fossil fuel production to sustain their existence. But the world is facing a climate crisis that will require an energy transition on an unprecedented scale. We are left with a predicament: while we need to transition away from the fossil fuel industry, doing so requires the communities of workers that rely on that industry to sacrifice their way of life and their economies. Corporations have also perpetuated these extractive industries and have a strong interest in delaying this transition. 

So, here’s the trillion dollar question I will take up in this series of five posts: how do we transition a national urban-centric economy away from fossil fuels without destroying the rural communities that produce them? 

There is substantial literature on two aspects of the transition from fossil fuels to renewable energies, widely known as the “green transition.” First, the idea of “environmental justice,” and second, the idea of a "just transition."

Environmental Justice

As we all heard growing up, “the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few.” But that is a maxim that should be invoked in times of disaster and crisis, not in city planning.

“Environmental justice” asks that the environmental costs associated with renewable energies be borne fairly instead of concentrated within low-income or majority-minority areas. Environmental justice is not a concept limited to the green transition; it has become increasingly relevant in discussions about where to site renewable energy industry and infrastructure.

I first came across the concept while working for the Department of Toxic Substances Control in Sacramento. Consider the car battery recycling process, which can infinitely recycle the lead component of the battery, melt and reform a substantial amount of the plastic casing, and neutralize the sulfuric acid or convert it to sodium sulfate, a product used in laundry detergent. Ninety-nine percent of car batteries are recycled. However, the recycling plant produces air emissions and a risk of lead contamination in air, soil, and groundwater. Battery recycling is an industry that benefits the community as a whole, but the smaller community near the plant suffers. For example, Exide Technologies shut its plant in May 2015, after years of fines and citations by the Department of Toxic Substances Control, leaving a five-square-mile brownfield site with elevated lead levels, near predominantly working-class and Latino neighborhoods. The cleanup in Vernon is ongoing. 

Another example of this conundrum is found in solar panel production. While the energy created by renewable energies is “clean,” the production of solar panels requires silicon, which must be mined, refined, and disposed of if the panel fails or is irreparably damaged. This both threatens health and safety due to emissions and environmental contamination and impacts the quality of life in an area through habitat destruction and a loss of natural beauty. 

Just Transitions 

A “just transition,” as articulated by Ann Eisenberg in a phenomenal law review article with that title, is a labor-driven principle of easing the burden that decarbonization poses to those who depend on high-carbon industries. It emphasizes a fair distribution of the risks and rewards of the green transition. Privately and publicly driven transition attempts have met varying degrees of success. 

In 2017, a nonprofit called Mined Minds came to West Virginia with promises to teach West Virginians how to write computer code, and then get them well-paying jobs. Many West Virginians quit their jobs or dropped out of school to participate, but almost none who signed up for the program are working in programming now. 

Alternatively, there are retraining programs that exist to train wind and solar installation technicians, and workers involved in zero-emission vehicle construction. However, these programs are not widespread and presently are neither widely targeted nor made free to fossil fuel workers. This may hamper their use as a transitional tool. 

In the past, the United States has provided some form of financial benefit to workers displaced by federal policy, such as compensating workers displaced by the Trade Act, the President’s Northwest Forest Plan, the Tobacco Transition Payment Program, and the POWER program. These payment programs have their own problems, which are discussed later in the series. 

Even successful non-fossil fuel climate transition projects, such as the USDA’s Rural Energy for America Program (which uses grants and loans to pay for clean energy projects for farmers and small business owners) and Climate Smart Commodities Program (which helps participating farmers implement production practices that help build soil health, sequester carbon, and enhance productivity) have been shut down or delayed by Trump’s USDA, casting some doubt on the integrity of long-term federal transition programs. 

California is “committed to achieving a just and equitable transition to carbon neutrality by 2045.” Although this will create a significant amount of jobs, only 56% of current fossil fuel workers will have “promising employment opportunities outside fossil fuel industries.” This number is likely to rise as renewable energy industry increases, but not enough to provide for all workers.

So, What’s Missing?

Nestled within the concepts of “environmental justice” and “just transitions” is the sustainable development triangle, a nexus between competing issues and interests like environmental stewardship, economic growth, and human well-being, to meet the needs of the present without compromising the ability of future generations to meet their own needs. Equity, Economy, and Environment lie at the three corners of the triangle. For example, “sustainably developed” housing can be pursued in a way that minimizes environmental impact in the surrounding area, drives improvements in Human Development Index and Multidimensional Poverty Index outcomes, and multiplies community jobs while improving household stability and providing opportunities for home-base. In this example, the issues considered can range from “good health and well-being” and “climate action” to “industry, innovation, and infrastructure” and “responsible consumption and production.”

Eisenberg explains that the existing policies of “environmental justice” and “just transitions” can be seen as lying on the sides of the triangle between ‘Equity and Environment’ and ‘Equity and Economy,’ respectively. 

What, then, lies between ‘Economy and Environment’? 

Extractive economies are unique in the fact that their economy is inextricable from their environment—these communities are ‘stapled’ to the resources they extract. In the late 19th and early 20th centuries, mill towns sprouted as forests were clearcut for the burgeoning timber industry. Mining towns cut into the rock to extract coal. Oil towns drilled down to start drawing up crude oil. However, the fate of many extractive economies is the same—once the resource has been fully extracted, the town fades away.

And What Comes Next? 

While environmental justice asks to distribute the costs of industry equitably, it may also take away the benefits from communities that find the costs acceptable. While just transitions aims to compensate individuals who will lose their employment in the green transition, that same person may be forced to relocate to find employment. 

This series of blog posts aims to discuss complex issues such as place, pride, and progress, and home in on a crucial aspect of the transition—how do we keep these communities intact? 

Here is a quick view of what’s to come: 

Part II of this series will cover the rural concept of “place” and how it factors into the identity of fossil fuel towns, even when there has been a past exploitative relationship with fossil fuel corporations, as well as how past transitions away from rural mono-economies have failed to adequately acknowledge this concept. 

Part III will examine Ann Eisenberg’s concept of rural America as a “commons,” and how this can help drive governmental investment in local communities instead of corporate investment in utility-scale renewable energy projects. 

Part IV will expose how the current renewable energy industry echoes past extractive economies like fossil fuels, and how localized renewable energy production could help decentralize the United States energy grid. 

Part V will examine several ways in which localized renewable energy siting could provide long-term stability for fossil fuel towns.

Marin County declares shelter crisis crisis after farmworkers displaced by historical Point Reyes settlement

Nearly 100 Marin County farmworkers and tenants are set to lose their homes. This comes as a result of a recent settlement to cease ranching operations throughout California's iconic national park -- the Point Reyes National Seashore. The settlement and its effects raise concerns over whether California’s environmental prerogatives are exacerbating the state’s housing crisis.

John Beck has reported extensively on the Point Reyes Settlement in The Press Democrat (Sonoma County). This post relies heavily on his reports which can be found here, here, and here.

In response to the settlement, the Marin County Board of Supervisors unanimously voted in mid-March to pass a shelter crisis declaration. The declaration will allow the County to bypass certain housing regulations, in order to rapidly develop emergency shelters for displaced farmworkers. The declaration will also provide for a number of different temporary shelter types, including buildings without permanent foundations, according to PublicCEO, an outlet for California local government reporting.

The Board's vote was met with broad support from impacted farmworkers and the community at large. "This is a huge win for the community," Jasmine Bravo, a Marin County farmworker advocate, said. However, some community members are concerned that the temporary housing initiative will only delay the inevitable -- the relocation of Marin County's long-established farmworker community.

As of 2024, Marin County ranked third in most expensive housing amongst all California Counties, according to a California Association of Realtors report. In light of this, Marin County housing advocates have expressed a desire to outline a long-term solution to the current crisis. Bravo commented: 

We are hoping that the [temporary housing initiative] is just an interim solution towards a much bigger project. And, hopefully, [the impacted farmworkers] have the opportunity to be homeowners in the future.

The County's declaration will remain in place for three years, but it could be extended afterwards. Funds to support the development of temporary shelters will "come from county housing trust funds," Marin County Supervisor Dennis Rodoni said.

The cause of the crisis -- the Point Reyes settlement -- was itself the product of a years of litigation among environmental conservation groups, the federal government, and Marin County ranchers.

In 2016, three conservation groups sued the National Park Service ("NPS"). The lawsuit challenged the NPS' decision to issue new 20-year commercial farming leases to several Marin County ranching operations, the Resource Renewal Institute ("RRI") explained. The conservation groups argued that the leases were issued without any analysis of potential environmental impacts and without public input, in violation of the National Environmental Policy Act.

The parties eventually settled the 2016 case. That settlement led the NPS to update its Point Reyes land management plans, "which proposed expanded ranching, livestock diversification, and mobile slaughterhouses in the national park," the RRI reported.

However, the conservation groups once again sued the NPS once again in 2022 to halt implementation of the updated plan. This time, the conservation groups argued that the plan violated the NPS's founding mandate to "conserve the scenery, wildlife, and natural and historic objects in national parks, monuments, and reservation . . . for the enjoyment in a way that leaves them unimpaired for future generations.”

An association representing several Marin County ranching operations joined onto the 2022 lawsuit. That same year, all parties involved in the litigation entered into settlement negotiations. Then, in 2023, the Marin County ranchers agreed to cease their operations , in exchange for around $30 million compensation.

The settlement itself has been met with mixed responses. On this point, The Press Democrat’s John Beck observed:

The settlement has proven divisive in the area, as some environmental advocates hail its benefits for the seashore’s watershed and wildlife, including tule elk, while agriculture supporters and others worry about the fallout on local businesses and schools, as well as the region’s farming legacy.

The Point Reyes settlement, and its resulting displacement of the County's farmworkers, is illustrative of the on-going tension between California's pro-environmental policies and its growing housing crisis.

Over the last two decades, California's pro-environmental reforms have come at the expense of pro-housing efforts. Take the California Environmental Quality Act ("CEQA"), for instance. CEQA was passed to combat climate change and prevent environmental degradation. And, in many respects, it has achieved this goal. However, CEQA has also infamously become the go to litigation tool for affluent community groups that oppose the construction of new, high-density housing projects. Thus, in a state that desperately needs to increase its housing supply, CEQA has operated to exacerbate California's housing crisis.

The Point Reyes settlement was similarly the result of conservation group efforts. The settlement's proponents may have accomplished their goal of mitigating the rancher's ecological impacts on the national park. This could only accomplished, however, at the expense of housing for nearly 100 farmworkers. Now, as a result of soaring housing prices in Marin County, many lower-income families are at risk of being forced out of the community where some of their families have lived for generations.

For a detailed discussion on CEQA’s impact on California’s housing crisis, check out this article by land use attorney Jennifer Hernandez.

The Point Reyes settlement is now another chapter of the growing saga that is California's struggle to reconcile its pro-environmental positions with its unprecedented housing crisis. This struggle shows no sign of relenting, as the state's housing crises continues to worsen, and the effects of climate change continue to surge.

The ripple effects of a pivot away from clean energy reach Humboldt County

Efforts to develop offshore wind infrastructure off the coast of California have run into a confluence of Trump administration priorities: reducing federal spending, eliminating clean energy projects, and undoing anything related to the Biden administration. In a widely expected move, the Trump administration announced that they were pausing all offshore wind leasing and reviewing existing leases for potential termination. 

Since that announcement, companies planning to build wind turbines off the coast of Humboldt County announced significant layoffs, a sign that those projects may no longer be moving forward. While the Trump administration's announcement did not immediately revoke the permits for the planned offshore wind sites off of Morro Bay and Humboldt County, development of these sites and the onshore infrastructure needed to build the wind turbines and carry the electricity to its destination markets requires a huge investment that offshore wind supporters believe would almost certainly require federal funding. Given the current administration's posture towards wind and other clean energy sources (not to mention towards the entire state of California), that funding will not be coming anytime soon. Thus, it is not surprising that the companies who already paid the U.S. government $757.1 million to lease tracts of the ocean for wind energy appear to be rolling back those plans and cutting jobs that would have been focused on those projects.

In addition to the direct impacts on those losing their jobs with these wind energy developers, the Trump administration's decision to pull support for offshore wind will affect those in Humboldt County who were hoping for the economic benefits that were promised to accompany these projects. As part of the lease bidding process, bidding companies were required to "commit to mak[ing] a qualifying monetary contribution to programs or initiatives that benefit the greater Humboldt County community." The agreement with the federal government provided for about 7.5% of the bid amounts to go to local stakeholders, a not-insignificant amount considering that the total bids amounted to over $750 million for parcels off Morro Bay and Humboldt County. It is unclear how much of that money the County and other local stakeholders have received.

Beyond the direct payments, however, local communities stood to gain from accompanying investments in electric infrastructure and in making significant upgrades to the Humboldt Bay Harbor District, as well as accompanying increases in economic activity in the local area. Now, whether any of those benefits will materialize is an open question.

Even before the Trump administration moved to scuttle clean energy development, many locals in Humboldt County were skeptical about the promised benefits from wind projects. Calmatters' Julie Cart, in her excellent reporting on offshore wind development in California, noted that local communities would bear social costs and face strains on infrastructure, including higher housing costs and utility upgrades. 

As previously discussed on this blog, Humboldt County has experienced a series of boom-and-bust cycles from different industries, including timber, fishing, and cannabis, that have brought prosperity to the region only to collapse and give way to economic despair. Humboldt County's Director of Economic Development, Scott Adair, shared that locals "are cautious about the flimflam, if you will, the over-promisers."

Adair also noted that, even if locals are skeptical, the fate of the project is out of their hands.

“This is a federal project that is happening to us,” Adair said. “We have a limited ability to be involved and to help steer or shape the outcomes of the project.”

County supervisors expressed some cautious optimism that underscores how the region stood to gain and how it has suffered from prior economic hardships: 

The supervisors said they are excited about the possibilities, but they also worry about the pitfalls and are bracing for disappointment. “I go into this with my eyes wide open,” said Supervisor Rex Bohn. “I pray this happens. I hope like hell this happens.

From outside of Humboldt County, offshore wind is considered critical to achieving California's zero-carbon targets for electricity. 

“There is an undeniable urgency,” said David Hochschild, chair of the California Energy Commission. “California has had unprecedented climate challenges. There is a fierce urgency to respond. We have to stop being academic on this. We have to build.”

But this urgency is not enough to justify the project's presence in Humboldt for many locals who have felt burned by prior experiences with extractive industry. Phillip Williams, a member of the Yurok Tribal Council, was extremely skeptical about relying on this project for economic benefits to the local communities:

“Everybody's lining up. It's almost like there's a predator. ‘Okay, these guys are weak. We can come in here and take advantage of this community that’s this desperate for dollars, because they've already depleted all their natural resources. What else can we extract from these communities, and these communities are so desperate, that they're willing to jump off the bridge blind, in hopes that there's gold at the bottom,’” he said.

Like other communities along the North Coast, Williams said the Yuroks need sustainable jobs, but not at any cost. More than a third of tribal members live below the poverty line, 60% of them children.

 Now that it appears likely that the project will be delayed, if not abandoned, skeptics in the local community may be breathing a sigh of relief. Their reactions to the proposed project certainly show the importance of local input and the potential pain that can be caused by major infrastructure development in rural and economically depressed areas. But the climate crisis continues unabated, and the Trump administration has not announced any proposals for economic development in Humboldt County to lessen the impact of the potential loss of offshore wind. 

Ndala and Cyclone Freddy: the harsh reality of climate change

On March 13, 2023, Ndala, a village in northeastern Mozambique, was almost entirely submerged in water. Heavy rains caused the river running through the village to overflow. The torrent of water and rocks cleared everything in its path: houses and people inside them, roads, bridges, livestock, and vehicles. The cause of these tragic events was Cyclone Freddy, the longest tropical cyclone on record. Two years later, Ndala still faces the effects of the storm. The population endures isolation, illness, and deepening poverty. The cyclone injured many, tore families apart, and destroyed livelihoods. 

 

The people most affected by extreme weather, particularly in places like Mozambique and across Africa, are often the least responsible for the climate crisis. Those affected live in communities with the least resources to adapt to climate disasters such as Cyclone Freddy. As a result, these countries and population pay the heaviest price for climate change with their lives. 

 

This vulnerability is not unique to Mozambique. In his blog post “Rural vulnerabilities in a changing climate”, Ryan Chen highlighted how rural areas with weak infrastructure are the most vulnerable to the effects of climate change. He cites Texas’ Rio Grande Valley, where drought is worsening due to it. Similarly, Ndala also lacks infrastructure and has trouble dealing with flooding. 

 

The increased frequency of floods and droughts directly impacts agriculture, threatening crop yields and livestock, primary sources of income sustenance for many rural communities in Mozambique. The cost of adapting to these drastic changes strains already limited financial resources of rural communities.

Malawi, a neighboring country of Mozambique, was also impacted by Cyclone Freddy. Recognizing the previous challenges, the International Fund for Agricultural Development (IFAD) and the government of Malawi launched a US$53 million agricultural development program in 2023. The initiative aims to commercialize agriculture, enhance small-scale farming resilience, and improve food security and nutrition across the country. As part of this effort, the seven-year Sustainable Agriculture Production program will equip farmers with the skills and resources needed to combat food insecurity, increase income, and improve rural livelihoods. In addition, the program allows funds to be reallocated to address immediate needs such as repairs to infrastructure that was damaged or destroyed by climate disasters. 

Nevertheless, while the IFAD has been actively involved in improving food security and resilient livelihoods for rural transformation in Mozambique, it didn't provide direct assistance to the country following Cyclone Freddy.

 

Climate disasters often lead to migration. Cyclone Freddy left thousands in Mozambique without homes, forcing them to migrate in search of safety and stability. However, under international law, these people do not qualify as refugees because their displacement is climate-related rather than a result of persecution based on race, religion, nationality, political opinion, or social group, as defined by article 1 of the Geneva Convention. 

Climate-displaced individuals are classified as internally displaced persons (IDPs) if they remain in their country or migrants if they cross borders. Under the Geneva Convention, refugees are entitled to the right to seek asylum, non-refoulement (not being sent back to danger), access to healthcare, education, and work in host countries, unlike IDPs and migrants.

 

This legal gap has sparked an ongoing debate about the legal recognition of “climate refugees”. The UNHCR (United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees) advocates for the expanded definition of refugees to include those displaced by climate change. However, many countries that ratified the Geneva Convention oppose this change, fearing it would increase migration and legal obligations. Amnesty International argues that concerns over mass migration are overblown. Instead, the organization emphasizes the need for humanitarian assistance, as climate change continues to displace communities worldwide. 

 

The case of Cyclone Freddy and Ndala underscores the growing urgency of this debate. Moving forward, the international community can no longer afford to ignore the impact of climate change on rural communities. Without action, climate migrants will remain trapped in legal limbo, denied the protections they desperately need.

Wolves in Colorado

In the 1940s the Grey Wolf was hunted to local extinction in Colorado by locals who were fearful of the dangers wolves poised to livestock, and for the overhunting of Elk populations by the wolves. 

80 years later, in 2020, Colorado voters in a close election voted to reintroduce wolves. Proposition 114, which aimed to reintroduce wolves was passed by a split of 50.91/49.09. It was not the first attempt to reintroduce the apex predator to the centennial state. Previous measures to bring wolves back to Colorado had failed in the years prior, crucially in 2016 when the Colorado Parks and Wildlife commission had voted against reintroducing wolves (citing the impact it might have on big game hunting and ranching in the state). The election was crucial and historical- it was the first time a state, not the federal government, had taken steps to reintroduce wolves into their natural habitat. 

Wolves had already been in Colorado when Proposition 114 was passed. In 2021, a few months after the measure, but well before the first reintroduction took place, Colorado reported that the first grey wolf pups were born in the state since the 1940s (the pack had migrated from Wyoming). In the winter of 2020/2021, the state also had its first confirmed killing of a livestock by a wolf since the 1940s, due to the pack that migrated from Wyoming.

The 2020 vote on reintroducing the wolves, in a presidential election year, was the closest statewide vote of the night. Other results from the night showed big partisan swings that made it clear Colorado was now a strong blue state-the presidential election went 55.40/41.90% in favor of President Biden and the senate race went 53.5/44.2 in favor of Democrat John Hickenlooper. 

But the wolf measure did not follow the general trends of partisanship. Instead, it followed geography. On the mostly rural Western Slope (population around 590,000), the only counties that had a majority of votes in favor of the wolves reintroduction were Pitkin, Summit, San Miguel, San Juan, and La Plata. This is in stark contrast to the presidential race where 15 counties went for Biden.  Further, across the 5 counties that voted for Biden and the wolves on the Western Slope, the wolves measure on average lost around 10 points of support compared to the President. There were no counties on the rural Eastern Plains (population around 160,000) that voted in favor of the wolves.

This degree of separation between urban and rural carried clear implications in this vote. The rural areas are where the wolves will be reintroduced. 

Colorado immediately set to work on how to devise a plan to reintroduce the wolves. It involved the recommendations of two groups-a stakeholder group (comprised of ranchers, outfitters, and others speaking for communities in Colorado affected) and a technical working group (composed of wildlife experts and professionals). Colorado state officials took rural concerns seriously when it came to reintroducing the wolves, not just relying on experts but also those in communities affected. Adam Gall, a member of the stakeholder group, gave high praise to Colorado’s work, saying that Colorado Parks and Wildlife had done their due diligence in gathering diverse opinions for the stakeholder group and was respectful when it came to hearing how the stakeholders wanted reintroduction to take place. 

On Dec. 18th, 2023, three years after voting for the measure, Colorado Parks and Wildlife released the first five wolves into Colorado on the Western Slope. Colorado then released five more wolves four days later, again on the Western Slope. The state plans to release ten to fifteen wolves each year for the next three to five years, having just released the second set in January 2025.

The wolves in Colorado raise major questions about the role of rural areas, and the burdens placed on them. As one rancher put it, “Colorado livestock producers are now carrying the burden for America’s interest in wolves.” Wolves however provide many benefits to ecosystems in rural areas. Reintroducing wolves, as an apex predator, means that local prey populations are likely to not reach overcapacity, allowing fauna to flourish, and will allow other species to return to areas. 

As we go into this new era of climate change, destruction from wildfires, efforts to conserve nature, and declining wildlife populations-it seems more and more likely that conservation efforts will involve urban areas voting to pass measures that will need to be enforced in rural ones. It seems crucial to follow in Colorado’s footsteps here. State’s must make sure that rural communities' voices are heard, since they are unlikely to hold as much sway at the ballot box; yet are likely to hold up the hard end of the bargain, such as living with wolves at the doorstep. 

Rural areas rely on federal employment, and the Trump Administration’s job cuts hit those communities the hardest

The federal government owns vast swaths of land across the Western United States, and rural communities are sprinkled throughout. There is a symbiotic relationship between the federal government and these rural communities. The federal government employs people in rural communities to manage its landholdings, and rural communities rely on the federal government for their livelihoods. However, President Trump has upended this balance.

The federal government is one of the largest employers in many rural communities. This includes the United States Forest Service (Forest Service), the Bureau of Land Management (BLM), and the National Park Service (NPS), to name a few. The Trump Administration has initiated mass layoffs of federal employees across many Federal Agencies. These layoffs have already decimated the NPS and its workforce.

The Forest Service and the BLM have also been hit hard by these layoffs. Rural communities are already feeling the effects of the layoffs, and rural people are suffering.

One example is the town of Salmon, Idaho. Salmon is located next to the Salmon-Challis National Forest and is a popular recreation spot. In the town of Salmon, 25 federal lands employees have been laid off. In a town of 3,000 people, this is a devastating economic blow.

One of the hardest hit federal agencies is the Forest Service. Employees within the Forest Service who engage in work related to climate change have been laid off. Many of these employees have not completed their probationary period and can be fired at any time. However, there is considerable debate over how many Forest Service employees have been let go. The Trump Administration asserts that only 2,000 Forest Service employees have been affected by the layoffs, but many believe that number to be much higher.

The effects of Forest Service and BLM layoffs go far beyond the economic impact on rural communities. The Forest Service manages 193 million acres of land, while the BLM manages 245 million acres of land. Much of this land is prone to catastrophic wildfire events if not properly managed.

While the Trump Administration's layoffs exempt firefighting personnel, many of the people who lost their jobs engaged in “trail maintenance, fuels reduction and other forestry projects.” These other projects helped reduce wildfire risk, and, as mentioned above, employed thousands of people in rural communities, many of whom were seasonal workers.

Many have already expressed concerns about how these layoffs will affect the upcoming wildfire season. Nevada State Forester and Firewarden Kacey KC stated that she is concerned with “staffing emergency management teams with dispatchers, technicians, and GIS workers, none of whom would likely qualify for the exemption for direct firefighters but are still a vital part of wildfire prevention and mitigation.” When wildfire season inevitably rolls around, firefighting crews may not have the necessary resources to do their job.

Wildfires are incredibly destructive and often decimate rural communities. With crews being understaffed, the task of fighting wildfires, already a difficult task, will become even more difficult. This presents the risk of increased property loss and even an increased risk for the loss of human life.

Given all concerns with the layoffs of Forest Service and BLM employees, many people, especially those in rural communities, have voiced their concerns to elected officials. One example of this is a recent town hall meeting in Oregon where House Representative Cliff Bentz met with nearly 400 of his Eastern Oregon constituents.

During this town hall meeting, many people were angry and protested Bentz’s support of the Trump Administration. Many people expressed the same concerns raised above, including the economic impacts on rural communities that depend on federal employment opportunities and the fear that wildland firefighting crews will be critically understaffed. Bentz eventually became so frustrated with the crowd that he asked, “If you just came here to yell, I can leave — do you want me to do that?”

This exchange between Rep. Bentz and his constituents shows how divisive this topic is. Rural people's livelihoods have been affected by the Trump administration's decision to lay off thousands of government employees. People are frustrated and upset due to the potential for increased economic hardship and wildfire risk in rural areas.

Currently, the Trump Administration has no intentions of reversing the layoffs of thousands of federal government employees. While the true effects of these layoffs are not yet known, states are likely not able to fill the gap left behind by the federal government. People in rural areas will continue to suffer economic hardship as federal jobs disappear and the risk of catastrophic wildfire events continues to grow.

The federal funding freeze forecasts uncertainty for rural farmers and communities

Over the past month, President Trump's administration has been characterized by chaos and his actions have left just about everyone disoriented. Confusion intensifies as to what the future has in store, and the federal funding freeze is no exception. On January 27, 2025, the Office of Management and Budget released an administrative order freezing federal grants and loans. This sparked public outrage from recipients scared of losing their jobs, educational funding, and livelihoods.

Although the order was rescinded only a few days after its implementation, and despite federal judges opposing the pause on funding, some government agencies are still withholding funding from those who need it. Troublingly, Vice President J.D. Vance chimed in on X regarding this battle between the executive and judicial branches, commenting, "[j]udges aren't allowed to control the executive's legitimate power."

So, if you're wondering if there is a federal funding freeze currently, the answer seems to be that it depends on which government agency you're asking about. And if you're wondering whether there will be a federal funding freeze, that might depend on to what extent President Trump disregards the will of the federal courts.

In other words, who knows?

Unfortunately, the Trump administration's will-they-won't-they approach to the funding freeze has already begun impacting rural business owners, particularly farmers. 

For example, Hugh Lassen's family in Cherryfield, Maine, runs a small organic wild blueberry farm called Intervale Farm. The family shared with the Associated Press their worries that the pause on funding will keep them from receiving needed reimbursement for purchasing environmentally friendly equipment. Particularly, the Lassens spent $25,7000 on solar panels, a blueberry sorter, and 14 freezers under the impression they would receive an $8,000 grant through the Rural Energy for America Program. They now have no way of knowing whether they will get anything.

This uncertainty is only compounded by the reality that farmers are particularly vulnerable to unpredictable changes in the weather and shifts in the economy. Farmers' ability to earn a living can vary significantly year-to-year due to circumstances beyond their control, such as natural disasters or inflation. As such, rural farmers will disproportionately feel the impact of Trump's federal budget cuts.

On top of all those "typical" destabilizing forces, the looming threat of discontinued funding will not only hurt individual farmers, it will hurt rural economies. Rob Larew, a "sixth-generation farmer from West Virginia" writing for MSNBC, lays out numerous examples of the freeze's potential impacts. He argues that while the funding freeze has most immediately impacted "climate-smart agricultural projects," pushing rural families into bankruptcy will gut rural economies.

Larew forecasts a bleak future, where fewer farmers in rural areas will mean fewer families, and fewer families will result in "less money spent on local businesses, fewer kids in the local schools, and fewer tax dollars for roads, hospitals and emergency services." Further, Larew points out the potential ripple effects of a federal funding freeze, including disrupted market prices, limited food science research, fewer food safety inspectors, and an inability to maintain rural infrastructure. You can read more about issues relating to rural infrastructure here, here, and here.

One thing's for sure: The last thing small farmers need is more uncertainty. For now, however, uncertainty may be the only thing the Trump administration can guarantee business owners and farmers in rural communities. 

As domestic water wells run dry in California, many rural individuals cannot afford to drill another one

Access to water is becoming more of a challenge in California, especially for rural communities in the Central Valley. Many rural families across California get water from domestic wells that tap into groundwater, but some of these wells are drying up due in part to climate change and the overconsumption of groundwater resources. This sets the stage for many political and legal battles across California.

Many households across California are not connected or do not have access to municipal water or sewer services. My family was one of them. 

When my family and I lived in Mount Shasta, California, we had a domestic water well that sat about ten yards from the house. When my parents began to have problems with the well, a pump company we paid to investigate the problem told us the well was dry. The only solution was to hire a drilling company to drill a new domestic water well.

My parents soon discovered that there were only nine drillers licensed to drill domestic water wells in all of Siskiyou County. All were booked out for months due to the high demand for water wells in Siskiyou County. In the meantime, my parents bought a 1,000-gallon water tank and would have potable water trucked in every two weeks.

After two months, the well-drilling company called with an opening for the next week. My parents promptly said yes, but the cost was beyond what anyone anticipated. While this was four years ago, the price of drilling a domestic well has only increased. Today, drilling a well costs an average of $5,500 in the United States, but the price “can range between $1,800 and $24,500, or around $25 to $65 per foot.”

Well Drilling. Credit: Paul Hamann

Well Drilling and Pipe Welding. Credit: Paul Hamann

My family was fortunate enough to be able to afford the hefty price tag for the new 360-foot well, but many California families cannot.

The past two years have been relatively wet, reducing the number of domestic wells going dry. As as result, press coverage of the issue has also fallen. Before that, California was experiencing a major drought, and thousands of wells went dry. Climate change and overconsumption of groundwater mean that policy makers and politicians cannot ignore this problem. 

In 2023 the Rural Community Assistance Corp. published a study analyzing water supply issues in California’s Central Valley. The study found that “32% of the 29,567 domestic wells analyzed are at risk” and that this creates a “burden that’s likely to fall disproportionately on rural disadvantaged communities.”

In numerous instances, the California State Government has stepped in. The Sustainable Groundwater Management Act (SGMA) was implemented in 2014 to help tackle groundwater management issues in California. The Rural Community Assistance Corp. study also identified the overpumping of groundwater as a major concern for those in rural communities. Large farming operations often have more resources and can afford to drill deeper wells than the surrounding residential homes and communities, but agricultural overpumping of groundwater lowers the water table, which raises the risk of domestic wells going dry. 

With so many domestic water wells going dry, non-profit organizations, like Self Help Enterprises have stepped in to help people in the Central Valley. Self Help Enterprises owns 1500 water storage tanks that they loan out to people whose wells have gone dry. While these tanks are not a permanent solution, they help those who cannot afford immediately to drill a new domestic well. Self Help Enterprises also offers domestic well drilling services to those who qualify for the program.

While the past two years have provided more rainfall to California than prior years, many people's wells are still drying up. Many of these wells are dated and were drilled before the effects of climate change and overconsumption of groundwater were fully recognized. Rural communities and families will be hit the hardest as many will not be able to afford the massive price tag for a new domestic well.

This is a very complicated issue, and many stakeholders are implicated. All Californians will continue to fight for access to dependable sources of water. Future policy decisions regarding groundwater usage need to consider potential impacts on rural communities as domestic water wells in rural areas will continue to be at risk.

Public land access for those who can buy it

This (public) land is your land - or is it? That is the question in a dispute between a group of hunters and a wealthy landowner in Wyoming that might be heading to the Supreme Court soon. One normally understands public lands to be open to all. Yet some in the rural West, like the plaintiff in this case, Fred Eshelman, would like to keep access to the public lands to themselves.

In Wyoming and other parts of the West, federal lands intersect private ones in a checkerboard pattern that dates to the construction of the transcontinental railroads. In order to limit access to these public lands, landowners like Eshelman are trying to prevent corner crossing, in which people pass from one square section of public land to the next. Instead, they want to maintain sovereignty over the air and the tiny sliver of land at the very corner of their properties that abut the public lands, and prevent hunters and others from entering those ostensibly public areas.

Keeping public lands private seems to be a largely unpopular stance in Wyoming, which has the highest proportion of hunters of any U.S. state. While hunting’s origins as a livelihood and means of subsistence persist in rural parts of the U.S., in recent years, as discussed on this blog, its perception as a working-class activity has begun to evolve. The hunters in this case drove from Missouri for a weekend of recreational hunting and camping, but even so, the blockading of public hunting areas by a wealthy businessman has the feeling of a distinct class conflict.

The reason this story smacks of injustice is that the landowner doesn’t simply want to block access to his own land, but also wants to prevent anyone from accessing a large swath of public land that happens to be prime hunting ground. The lawsuit he filed against the hunters alleged $7.75 million in damages for trespassing in the air above the corner of his property, a claim that implies that his 22,000-acre ranch would lose a significant amount of value if the public were allowed to access the public lands adjacent to his property.

The desire (of an out-of-state pharmaceutical magnate) to prevent others from accessing the public lands strikes me as greedy and unfair. It also seems distinctly un-neighborly. While common decency prevents hunting on your neighbor’s front lawn, it is not uncommon where I grew up, in a fairly rural part of New Hampshire, for hunters to make their way onto private land, as public lands are much less prevalent on the East Coast than they are in the West. We still wear blaze orange when we go for walks or hikes in fall and early winter so we aren’t mistaken for potential targets. Typically, unless there are lots of No Hunting signs visible, hunters are free to hunt in whatever stretch of woods they wish. I have heard about big-game ranches in Texas with fences tall enough to keep deer from escaping, but I imagine that in most rural areas, absent those lofty fences, a similarly open custom to that in New Hampshire prevails.

That may no longer be the case in Wyoming. Lawyers on both sides of this case

agreed that Wyoming has changed from an idealized time when ranchers were open to hunters who respectfully asked to cross their land. Those days have faded, they said with an influx of money and people.

Another important aspect of the public land access debate is the impact of technology, which has made it significantly easier to identify potential areas to hunt. Local knowledge and relationships are no longer as crucial as they once were, because apps like onX have

allowed anyone with a smartphone and a subscription to identify both good hunting spots and the property lines that permit and limit entry to them.

This kind of technology has helped increase the number of hunters in places that were once the exclusive terrain of guides or in-the-know locals. If I were a hunter who lived in one of these places, I would probably be bothered by an influx of newcomers on local turf. But making it easier for people to avoid trespassing on private land doesn’t seem like such a bad thing for the owners of that land. And facilitating access to public land seems to be in keeping with the spirit of making lands public in the first place. It’s not surprising that, in a state where many of the locals are hunters, some Wyoming legislators have proposed a bill that would make corner crossing legal. It will be equally unsurprising if that bill faces significant opposition, considering the wealth and power of those seeking to prevent increased public land access.

The hunters’ attorney summed up the significance of this debate between two important - and notably rural - values:

It asks a fundamental question about our country and what we stand for. . . We do care about private property and the right to be left alone, but also we are a country of outdoors people and adventurers, hunters and travelers. . . . To me it’s this quintessentially American question of, Which one of our principles takes precedent?

But does your “right to be left alone” extend to the public lands next door?