Four Bold Ideas To Save Greater Yellowstone (And Certain To Make Some Squirm)
Lee Nellis first wrote in Mountain Journal about the failures of conservation. Now he wants to provoke a real discussion about how not to become Colorado. Are we ready to take aversive action?
When planners pursue growth without any regard given to the natural processes that hold wild and pastoral landscapes together, communities that count such things as part of their character are destined to lose them. What good is "open space" if it vacant of inhabitants that used to live there? Poorly planned growth and development first rubs out wildlife migrations and then fragments agriculture and ultimately results in disjointed human spaces that have no memory of the actual place that drew them there. This is just part of problems that Nellis gets at in his essay. You can't save the essence of communities by adhering to consumptive models that failed in other places. Photo of a community along the Front Range of the Colorado Rockies courtesy Doc Searls/Wikipedia 2.0 Generic CC BY 2.0
EDITOR'S NOTE: No one here disputes the fact that humans are the dominant species on the planet and that in rare still-wild ecosystems like Greater Yellowstone justification for protecting places is often based on meeting human needs. In fact, a focus on fueling growing human needs at the expense of nature is why the Greater Yellowstone Ecosystem is one of the last of its kind. How can Greater Yellowstone avoid the same fate of other regions? Earlier at Mountain Journal, Lee Nellis, a planning consultant who previously worked with local counties and towns in the Rockies, develop planning and zoning, wrote a piece about the failure of collaboration to chart a different course from one focused on the consumption of nature. It attracted a lot of attention and was widely circulated. We asked him to write a follow-up and what appears below is his response following months of pondering what's at stake here for other bioregions like it. Nellis wanted to title this essay "Four Provocations: the Shape of a New Western Myth." We encourage you to circulate it widely.
by Lee Nellis
"If we cannot give people a compelling alternative story, then the narrative of domination—the story in which all values are reduced to dollars—will continue to define the space within which efforts to protect our landscapes and nurture sustainable communities succeed or fail. It will undermine conservation and planning efforts that fall outside the bounds it sets. We will lose much of what we love. We will pay dearly for little victories." —A passage from the essay "Has Collaborative Conservation Reached its Limits?" in Mountain Journal, October 5, 2020
Six months ago, I promised to expand on my essay about the limits of collaborative conservation by offering “specifications” for a new Western myth. The election and post-election drama slowed my follow-up. I feel as if I held my breath for weeks (you, too?). The Biden victory means there is still time left to start telling a new story. Everything down the ballot, including Montana’s decisive right turn, reminds us that the time left may be short.
When I finally caught my breath, I had a realization. Maybe it was after reading about the restoration of native mussels (how cool is that?) to the Laramie River in Wyoming Wildlife magazine. Maybe it was a Facebook post about carbon sequestration from the Western Stewardship Exchange? I realized that years of practicing collaborative conservation have taught us all about process.
What it has not done is equip us with a compelling vision of either the mythic or the policy frameworks into which our efforts should be fitting. We have goals—abundant wildlife, affordable housing, healthy towns—that are kept vague by the need to squeeze them into the box created for us by the dominant narrative.
Collaborative conservation sometimes fits into that box. But the values conservationists so hopefully bring to the table remain outside it. The narrative of domination is inclusive only when it must be, it exploits rather than honoring life, and it will not surrender the language of conquest. It suppresses new stories. It forbids transformation.
We have to clearly say that, however beguiling, the dominant narrative is wrong when It tells us—tells us with every ad we see or hear—that if we just pursue our individual interests an invisible hand (talk about a mythical creature!) will balance the books. We have to say that is not true. The balance between human needs and the survival of the wild (not to mention the welfare of our descendants), will be achieved only when a new myth informs us that human needs are neither unquenchable nor sovereign; that we need not allow our lives to be defined by what we can sell or buy.
We have to share the understanding that, however easy it makes life seem, moral people – people who want to live well and peaceably together – will refuse to measure everything in dollars. If there are no intrinsic values, we don’t have to think hard about quality or character. We don’t have to consider the impacts of our lives on the world. We don’t have to wait for the utter collapse of civilization to save us from being the “empty little bundles of enjoyment” that poet Robinson Jeffers feared we will become.
We have to point out that the dominant narrative is ruthless. If we don’t have the faith it requires, we must still further its ends, just to live. We can cheat. Buy meat and vegetables at the farmer’s market. Make medicines from the herbs of the field. Donate to the local land trust. But we cannot evade participation in the narrative of domination.
If we continue to play within the lines the dominant narrative sets on conservation efforts, we will make progress one inch at time, while the extent of the choices that remain is rolled up behind us by the yard. We need a new myth in Greater Yellowstone and throughout the West. We need it soon.
If we continue to play within the lines the dominant narrative sets on conservation efforts, we will make progress one inch at time, while the extent of the choices that remain is rolled up behind us by the yard. We need a new myth in Greater Yellowstone and throughout the West. We need it soon.
I chose myth because for most people, for most of history, myth has been foundational, truer than fact. It explained origins. It established meaning and morality. Homo sapiens has evolved to respond to myth. To call a myth a falsehood is settler logic; a way to undercut the belief system of people you intend to displace.
We have goals—abundant wildlife, affordable housing, healthy towns—that are kept vague by the need to squeeze them into the box created for us by the dominant narrative. Collaborative conservation sometimes fits into that box. But the values conservationists so hopefully bring to the table remain outside it. The narrative of domination is inclusive only when it must be, it exploits rather than honoring life, and it will not surrender the language of conquest. It suppresses new stories. It forbids transformation.
I also chose ‘myth’ because it applies so well to the story we are – willingly or not - living. The Narrative of Domination was powerful enough to displace the native human population of this continent. It has displaced or greatly diminished wildlife populations almost everywhere. It will eventually displace those of Greater Yellowstone.
I say reciprocity here where I could use a more familiar word like stewardship, because we take from this land and those who take have an obligation to repay. Reciprocity was, as I understand it, at the heart of the Native American way of living on the land. I will not try to represent or, worse yet, romanticize Native American philosophy here. That is not mine to do. I will just say that we need to learn from that tradition. We need to ask for help from those who have good reasons not to give it.
A creek still runs through the land. Riparian corridors are, from a wildlife perspective among the richest and most important habitat. Image courtesy Doc Searls/Wikipedia 2.0 Generic
That’s where humility comes in. Humility must also replace the projections of our egos onto the landscape. The wild is not a gym for our personal pleasure. Its not just that this landscape has a finite capacity to absorb human impacts. The wild has its own existence. We owe it the same respect we seek for ourselves. Among many other things, a myth rooted in humility will tell us where it is and is not appropriate to ride mountain bikes or put pack rafts in a stream. It will help us say clearly what is sacred. It will help us exercise the restraint that should grow out of gratitude and humility.
A myth rooted in gratitude, humility, restraint, and reciprocity will also restore the proper meaning of work, which is not to support consumption (though it does) nor to produce commodities (though it does that, too). The meaning of work in the New Western Myth will be to continually create and sustain our place in nature, the most inclusive community possible. There is so much to protect. So much to restore. So many people to be brought fully into the circle.
I invite your participation. As I pointed out last time, the new myth must be the creation of many. But to prime the myth-making pump, I propose four public policies that I think we would adopt if we were guided by a new myth. In doing so, I will enjoy the role of provocateur.
Provocation #1: Separate Landowner Incomes from Commodity Production
I have wanted to say this in public for at least 20 years. Farmers and ranchers are being paid for the wrong thing.They are the stewards, and in many cases, admirable stewards of rural landscapes. Society should pay them for that and pay them directly.
Cropland in eastern Idaho near the west side of the Tetons. As long as land is open and not covered in asphalt, concrete and human structures, even as monoculture it can function as passageway for wildlife and it holds potential for improvement as animal habitat. But when covered with scattershot development, options for safeguarding migrations can start to narrow rapidly. Nellis worked on planning issues with the intent of trying to protect rural landscapes in an Idaho county and despite progress conservation efforts were squelched. Nellis is a big fan of land trusts but given accelerating trends with land development and turnover of old ranches and farms to new buyers, conservation is not keeping pace with increasing development and land fragmentation. Photo by Todd Wilkinson
We do sometimes pay agricultural producers to achieve conservation goals, but indirectly. Programs like the Conservation Reserve have been successful on a limited scale, but they are always represented as payments in lieu of production. Let’s stop dissimulating. Let’s support stewardship of the landscape we want to live in while honoring rural people for their work.
We don’t need to stop genuinely sustainable commodity production. I am happy to have the steaks, blankets, and 2X4’s I buy come from private lands that are managed in a way that is consistent with my fundamental values: clean air, carbon sequestration, clean water, abundant wildlife, sacred wildness. Many of the landowners and managers out there have the knowledge and skills to accomplish that. They just need the incentive. They need a check.
I have wanted to say this in public for at least 20 years. Farmers and ranchers are being paid for the wrong thing.They are the stewards, and in many cases, admirable stewards of rural landscapes. Society should pay them for that and pay them directly.
There is a logistical issue here. Few rural people want to take government checks. And note that I did not say, ‘federal’ checks. Living now in the Adirondacks, where the wild lands are owned by the state, has shown me that people say “state” in place of “federal” in all the same complaints one hears throughout the West. Local government is more popular, but that’s usually (there are exceptions to this) in direct proportion to how many corners it lets developers cut. Who should pay landowners for their stewardship?
I’m not sure. What I do know for sure is that the payments must be direct so that the connection with landscape goals is clear. Any commodities produced must truly be understood as by-products. I know that the quality of stewardship must be specified in detail and subject to enforcement. We can do that. We know how to write landscape plans in a collaborative way. We know how, when we have the will, to see that exactly what is specified in those plans is what happens. But again, who pays?
I am not asking who raises the money. That can only be accomplished at the national scale. We’re all beneficiaries of a healthy rural landscape. We should all pay.
Could we trust towns or counties to administer the funds? I like working at the local scale, but the idea of 3,000 versions of this policy makes me uneasy. Could we channel the money through nonprofits? Maybe? I love land trusts, but this also raises questions. Does the answer have to be the same in all landscapes? Maybe not. There could be virtue in experimentation, with different states or localities taking different approaches.
We can work out how to make this happen. We can repair initial missteps. But first, we have to say that it is what needs to happen. Is it?
I cannot think of anything that would benefit the West more, protecting its resources, while keeping the essence of its rural culture. I cannot think of anything that would do a better job of telling rural people that we value them for their knowledge and skills, not for how cheaply we can buy what they produce.
Provocation #2: Remove the Public Lands from Partisan Politics. Place them in Trust.
I am thinking about our new President’s call for unity. And thinking that what might unite us more than anything right now is a mistrust of legislatures. We do not trust political parties and partisan dealings. We fear the influence of large donors. If you listen to Wyoming Public Radio you will hear almost every day how the state’s people and communities are adapting and moving on while the legislature is mired in the past.
So, let’s amend the Constitution to create a Trust that will manage the federal lands without partisan interference. Let’s guarantee that the extent of the public lands is never diminished, but not prevent beneficial exchanges. Let’s appoint the Trustees the way judges are appointed, without regard to partisan affiliation and for life. Let’s make it clear that competent public land management must transcend shifting partisan trends.
It would be ok by me to specify that a majority of the Trustees be residents of public lands states at the time of their appointment. Some of them should certainly come from the tribes. It would be ok by me if the simple phrase “without regard to partisan affiliation” were expanded to make the Trustees subject to the strictest conflict of interest prohibitions and that they be explicitly tasked with making evidence-based decisions guided by large landscape plans that are created in the most inclusive and collaborative way. It would also be fine with me if the Trustees could contract for the management of carefully selected public lands by adjoining private land stewards whose income has been divorced from commodity production.
I am thinking about our new President’s call for unity. And thinking that what might unite us more than anything right now is a mistrust of legislatures. We do not trust political parties and partisan dealings. We fear the influence of large donors. If you listen to Wyoming Public Radio you will hear almost every day how the state’s people and communities are adapting and moving on while the legislature is mired in the past.
Federal land management agencies and their earned revenue streams would be transferred to the Trust along with a substantial initial endowment from Congress. Beyond that, this idea won’t work if the Trust isn’t self-supporting. The Trust would not be allowed to change the mission or boundaries of national parks and monuments (and I hope Rangers would continue wearing the gray and the green, I liked that uniform). But the Trustees would generally be able to restructure land management.
It would take a great deal of political will to amend the Constitution to create the Trust. Yet think of the certainty it would provide. Think of how much energy both “sides” have expended on the recurring versions of the Sagebrush Rebellion. Is continuing that waste in anyone’s interest? Call me a dreamer. This is the right thing to do.
There are regulations against willy-nilly blockage of rivers, but are rivers of wildlife that have passed across landscapes for millennia any different. If their season movements are important to their survival, should their ancient routes be protected from impairment. The Wyoming Migration Initiative has prepared maps that help delineate where wildlife goes; unfortunately decades of development and its cumulative effects have made corridor protection on private lands urgent. Photo courtesy Tom Koerner /US Fish and Wildlife Service
Provocation #3: Grant Citizenship to Wildlife
This is a hazardous turn. I can hear people saying, and justly so, that I ought to be thinking first about people whose citizenship is diminished by the racism that is as pervasive in the West as anywhere. I am. I repeat that the New Western Myth must be created with the participation of Native Americans. And I will add the Latinos and their acequia culture. We white people have much to learn.
One thing I have learned is that it is not up to me to represent other cultures or appropriate ideas that I may not fully understand. The New Western Myth must incorporate the indigenous. But its not my place to say how. So, I continue with what I can say. The new mythology must allow wild voices to speak forcefully.
Again, there are practical issues. Bison don’t fit well in a courtroom or capitol building. But they need effective representation there. Perhaps there are times the process should come to them? I propose, for example, that future discussion of roaming Yellowstone and other wild bison by the Montana Legislature be held only under the open sky with bison in view. Do you think that would affect the outcome?
Bison don’t fit well in a courtroom or capitol building. But they need effective representation there. Perhaps there are times the process should come to them? I propose, for example, that future discussion of roaming Yellowstone and other wild bison by the Montana Legislature be held only under the open sky with bison in view. Do you think that would affect the outcome?
I propose further that elk, mule deer, and pronghorn be granted property rights in their ranges and migration corridors. Having those rights, they would have standing to be represented in any land use decision that affects them. They would have due process to challenge decisions that are not in their interest.
There are institutional problems with this expansion of rights to wildlife. But none are insurmountable. It is time to follow Aldo Leopold’s advice that we understand ourselves as citizens of a larger community. Let’s express our gratitude for the delight the wild brings us. Let’s practice humility and reciprocity by extending defensible rights to wildlife.
Provocation #4: End Land Speculation
I once tried to awaken an audience to the question of whether land speculation is consistent with the commonly stated rural value that people should earn what they have. I showed them pictures of two potato fields, each equally productive, served by the same irrigation system, farmed by the same family in the same way. Yet, one of those fields’ assessed value was four times that of the other. One was on the suburban fringe, the other a few miles out. Did the owners create that difference in value?
No, though they reaped it when the suburban field sold. Those who now live or do business there created the value. Why shouldn’t they, collectively, have kept what they created? The audience was befuddled. It wasn’t that they disagreed, though they might have. They couldn’t grasp the idea at all. But we are going to have to accept new ways of thinking about land ownership if our children are going to live in the West we want for them.
Those who have studied the history of economics know that my point is not original. Americans have been ignoring this blatant departure from our stated work ethic ever since Henry George published his observations on changing property values after the California gold rush.
Ending land speculation will slow exurban sprawl and the accompanying loss of habitat. It will facilitate the provision of housing affordable for working people. And unlike my other provocations, it would be easy to implement. Society can recapture the value it has created in land through a modification of the property taxes
Ending land speculation will slow exurban sprawl and the accompanying loss of habitat. It will facilitate the provision of housing affordable for working people. And unlike my other provocations, it would be easy to implement. Society can recapture the value it has created in land through a modification of the property taxes it is already charging (one important note for those new to the idea of land value taxation: Improvements are not taxed, only the unearned land value). George thought this would be the only tax necessary. Whether he was right about that is irrelevant. It is the impact on land use and the ethical benefit we seek, not revenue.
The dominant myth conceals a lust for easy money, for gain on paper, behind a fictional work ethic. I propose that the New Western Myth embody a genuine appreciation of hard work.
There are more potential provocations. Does our idea of wilderness need to change? Maybe. Does a new narrative demand political changes like, say, proportional representation? Almost certainly. But if I haven’t poked you enough to get a reaction by now, adding questions won’t help.
The elements of a new narrative surround us. We can put those elements together in the form of both a story of living in the West and policies like these. It should be easy to tell stories that are richer and more engaging than the boomtown fantasies of the dominant narrative.
Could a rancher tell us of finally really seeing just how the sunlight falls on pronghorn hide, driving off the road, and realizing that nothing less than a transformation of myths will do. Could there be a poem about the joy of renting an apartment to a teacher or a nurse instead of listing it on AirBnB? Could someone film the story of a cut slipping back into a stream and the CEO who caught it realizing that the hands which shape our world must be made visible? Could a couple whose truck bears a peeling Trump-Pence sticker get stuck on what passes for a road in the Red Desert, hear the wind in the sage, and write us a song about how exactly where we are, exactly how it is, is exactly enough?
I am now going contribute the story of a snowball fight.
The kids, the dog, and I were wandering the badlands after a November squall. Sunshine returned. The snow softened enough that it would hold together. That doesn’t happen often where the snow is all powder. We made the most of it.
A hilarious battle ensued among the mudstone spires and sandstone boulders. Sister sneaked up behind brother with a snow “ball” so big she could barely carry it. Sophie wagged and watched from a pinnacle 80 feet above. Snowballs whizzing through the air do not amuse her, but I don’t think that I have ever laughed so hard. We ended up covered with pink mud and a lasting sense of being at home in the wild.
We can have a New Western Myth if humility and gratitude prompt us to weave together enough stories like this. If we then act with restraint as those stories insist we should, if we give as much as we take, our children can live that new myth. Don’t you want them to?
dA question posed to Mountain Journal readers: If human population growth and the footprint of development rapidly expands, following patterns of sprawl that proliferate across America, will it be considered a planning success if elk migrations like those passing through the southern Gallatin Valley disappear because of landscape fragmentation? Or if moose and mule deer have their corridors of movement so constricted in southern Jackson Hole that they no longer make their seasonal pilgrimage? Or if ranch lands, like those that define the character of many Greater Yellowstone valleys, get whittled away? Or if the region develops the best outdoor recreation trails on public lands imaginable but wildlife abandon those same places where, because of survival, they want to be? A reminder of what's at stake is visible in the short film from the Wyoming Migration Initiative, below, which often reminds that protecting public lands alone does not guarantee that healthy wildlife populations can persist.
About Lee Nellis
Lee Nellis, best known in the Northern Rockies for being a community and land use planner, is currently a lecturer in Environment and Society at Paul Smiths College. "I see my role as helping young people connect the dots (systems thinking)," he says. Nellis also served as a guide and ranger in the Big Horn Basin, the Thorofare and other parts of Yellowstone. He continues to serve as an advisor on rural planning.
