In the heady champagne of federal policy debates, proposals to sell off federal lands are merely one small bubble. But over the past year that bubble has risen to the top. It also may have popped.
The first century of U.S. history was an active time of acquisition and disposal of federal lands as the new republic spread across the continent, giving geographic, demographic, and social content to the concept of manifest destiny. There followed a pause in which park and forest lands were reserved from disposal, even while croplands and some grazing lands continued to make their way into private hands. By the 1930s, with the economy in shambles and important areas of the country suffering from wind and water erosion because of imprudent use, the era of disposal came to an effective halt. This shift was formalized by the recommendations of the Public Land Law Review Commission in 1970 and by the enactment of the Federal Lands Policy and Management Act of 1976, which committed the government to intensive, multiple-use, environmentally sensitive management of most remaining federal lands—a management style that already had been gathering momentum for a quarter-century.
Rebels, right turns, revenue raising
With the issue apparently so firmly and recently settled, what should one make of the current effervescence? It appeared first as the Sagebrush Rebellion, in which a few western states sought to assert claims to the federal lands—lands which in some cases comprise half or more of their territory. But that was only the most dramatic manifestation of a growing frustration with federal management felt by many ranchers, foresters, and recreationalists. Stricter laws and regulations, rising prices for the potential output of federal lands, and greater competition as the land has grown more valuable all focused unprecedented attention on federal land management.
This stirring coincided with new ideological and budgetary pressures. Although conservationists and some political liberals continue to place their faith in scientific management and (somewhat inconsistently) in politically responsive solutions to federal land use problems, many other citizens are turning away from the long ascendancy of American liberalism toward a more constricted view of the role of government. At the same time, the Reagan administration, faced with an embarrassingly large deficit, perceived a double-edged opportunity to raise some revenue through land sales while diminishing the size and reach of government. Under the flag of "asset management," proposals were advanced for modest sales of federal lands, with the hint of more to come.
Of course, there is no one correct line between the private and government sectors in modern societies, but in the United States the general rule and most of the public rhetoric is on the side of private management unless special circumstances prevail against it. What, then, explains the persistent anomaly of federal ownership of almost one-third of the nation's land, most of it used primarily for commodity production of a sort identical to that occurring in the private sector? History, inertia, and balance among competing interests each play a role, but the intellectual rationale for this outcome is far from clear.
Contending views
Classic conservation arguments stressed the danger of resource exhaustion (especially of timber) under private management, watershed and environmental damages charged to private operators, and the lack of long-run private interest in maintaining the productive capability of the land. Trained government managers were seen as appropriate guardians of the long-run viability of resources using scientific management criteria that in many cases would not appeal to private owners.
However, as Marion Clawson has noted, while the land has been publicly owned, most of the uses on it have been privately managed. As ranchers, recreationalists, environmentalists, timber operators, miners, and local communities all learned to defend their interests in the use of federal land, the ideal of scientific management became bound in uneasy partnership with political decisions that sought to balance the competing interests—a system some term interest-group liberalism. Criteria of efficient management have been attenuated, and political decisions have come to predominate. With so many interests contending, the inevitable course has been to pry open the federal treasury to satisfy them.
Critics of federal management see these problems as the predictable result of the lack of private property rights. They argue that the original fears of resource shortage were misguided. As the age of resource plenty has receded, private operators have proved quite willing to grow trees or grass. Moreover, the critics expect private operators to do so more efficiently because they are motivated by the discipline of the market to be agile in their management and investment: decisions and more responsive to changing circumstances.
Nonmarket benefits
But are there other products of the federal lands that public management can provide that would be neglected by private owners? Most of the federal land question is in the multiple-use category and is expected to produce not only marketable commodities but nonmarketable benefits as well, including watershed protection, wildlife habitat, and recreation.
Private firms usually lack incentives to produce optimum amounts of nonmarketed goods. Presumably they could be Induced by a combination of regulation and incentive to protect the environment and provide habitat for wildlife in addition to producing commodities efficiently for their own account. But neither defenders nor critics of public ownership have focused much on this possibility. One reason may be that no one knows even how to define an optimum mix—under either system of management—much less how to secure it.
Most people feel that unique scenic and ecological resources, such as are found in the national parks and much wilderness land, should remain in federal hands to assure their continued existence for all Americans, present and future. When one departs from these lands, however, to examine the more ordinary timber, grazing, and recreation lands that make up most of the federal estate, this consensus begins to dissolve.
It is easy to imagine various ways in which private or local public entities could substitute for federal control on much of the land. Public corporations might be used to ensure greater financial responsibility in management. Long-term leases could be contracted under which private managers would produce the output. Responsibility for recreational and watershed lands used by local or regional populations might be turned over to local authorities. Or lands with obvious commercial uses could be sold outright. In all cases the terms of the arrangement could, if desired, provide for environmental protection and some degree of public access much like that presently enjoyed.
Vested interests
In truth, the present system has powerful inertia. The parties at interest know fairly well where they stand and have adjusted to that situation: changes could be risky for them. And, because the federal government spends a good deal to manage the land, any change that weakens the federal commitment threatens to reduce support that benefits the most influential parties.
Ranchers, once ardent Sagebrush Rebels, have grown concerned that competitive sales of grazing lands might place them in competition with better-funded oil companies and urban cowboys. By contrast their below-market federal grazing fees and routinely renewable permits to use the land look attractive. Miners like their free access to hardrock minerals and the comparatively open-handed approach of leasing of other minerals. They are content to hang onto that while badgering the government to limit wilderness and other withdrawals of land. Some forest industry firms would welcome a chance to buy timberlands, but others depend on the right to bid for federal stumpage—a standoff. Most recreational use is free or at nominal charge, and users are not anxious to see changes. State and local governments already receive most of the revenues generated on federal lands while providing only minimal services to them. Absent any clamor from their citizens, they are in no rush to claim responsibility except on a selective basis.
Those who lose under the present arrangement are the nonusers—mainly eastern taxpayers who subsidize western commodity producers and recreationalists. However, most easterners are neither vitally interested nor widely informed on these matters and they are not easily inflamed over remote resource issues. Even when they are concerned, often they are inclined to romantic notions about a pristine West in which they own a share; they, too, become defenders of the status quo.
Federal mismanagement?
Meanwhile, serious-minded complaints about federal management abound. Both the forest and grazing lands operate at large deficits even though no capital charge is made for the land. Most national forests outside the Pacific Northwest are not commercially viable for sustained timber production. Analysts have figured that managing the surface estate of grazing lands costs about four to five times the revenues generated by that use. Are these discrepancies matched by the value of nonmarketed goods produced on the land? No one ever has established that to be the case. In fact, it seems implausible for much of the land, which is without any special distinction.
Some who are committed to federal ownership plead that management deficiencies can be corrected. One suggestion has been to inject more economic analysis into the planning process and to seek to produce a result similar to that which would be attained were markets able to operate. But the cost of planning in the case of Bureau of Land Management (BLM) land has become grossly disproportionate to the value of the resource, and Forest Service planning also has been severely criticized as unwieldy, even by its one-time supporters. Although nearly all economists agree that a nondeclining even flow of timber from national forests makes no economic sense, the Forest Service persists in its adherence to the concept. And lightly timbered forests in the Rockies that have low potential for sustained output nonetheless are managed as if they were productive for wood. Thus, many serious analysts are not sanguine that managerial improvements can succeed. Indeed, they find the problems endemic in the very nature of public bureaucracies.
Backing off
Still, the disposal bubble may have popped. Early in 1982 the air was rife with rumors of plans for large-scale disposal of federal land. Government and private economists were discussing the idea of "privatizing" public lands, and a high-level property review board was established within the government to facilitate the transfer of unneeded properties as a means of reducing federal debt. Now, however, a somewhat different tone prevails. The limited character of the program is being emphasized, and the immediate target is only some 4 to 5 million acres, most of it identified over decades of planning as unsuited to federal administration. An ultimate target of no more than 35 million acres, or 5 percent of all federal land, also is being mentioned. Great attention is being given to the use of established laws and procedures in identifying candidates for sale on the BLM lands. The Forest Service has identified only a very small acreage as immediately available for sale and hints that very little of that termed subject to further study would make it through the screening process and be offered for sale. Any extensive sale of National Forest System land would require new legislative authority.
The cautious tone evident in recent discussions of disposal seems to reflect current political realities. With principal user groups not keen on disposal—or at least not united on it—the primary advocates have been a coterie of academics and some conservative think tanks and advocacy groups. In the face of unbending opposition from most environmentalists and conservation groups, that simply is not a constituency sufficient to move policy.
Political realities aside, however, there remain major problems with the management of federal lands. Unless more rational solutions can be found than now appear on the horizon, the issue almost surely will rise again.
Author Sterling Brubaker is senior fellow and associate director of RFF's Renewable Resources Division.