At the heart of this essay—which appeared first in the Journal of Policy History (2009) and was revised for Steve Wilent, ed. 193 Million Acres (SAF 2018)—lies what is now a quaint set of assumptions. That whatever transformations might occur in the structure and mission of the US Forest Service, that they would be devised in collaboration with Congress, in consultation with a wide array of interest groups, and abide by then-current federal laws. There were, I thought, sturdy guardrails in place that, regardless of the structural changes, would ensure the continued stewardship of the national forests, wildernesses, and grasslands. Since January 20 th , those assumptions have been blown to pieces. This administration’s dismantling of the agency’s capacities has been disturbingly intense—the firing of hundreds of employees, the retirement (forced or voluntary) of hundreds more, has left the Forest Service bereft of rangers, supervisors, and directors. Their departure is by design, of course: without staff, the agency cannot enforce the laws its public servants swore to uphold (and did). Absent these principled individuals, the administration seems poised to off-load federal lands to the states (see Martin Nie’s brilliant discussion of this threat in The Smokey Wire, April 21, 2025); or let them be picked apart by private interests (as an example, see David Mertz’s discussion of the Maude family case in The Smokey Wire, May 7, 2025).
So, if you’d like to step outside of the current (and cynical) chaos, and contextualize it by reading how the Forest Service has evolved over time and how change might have occurred in a more transparent, consultative, and democratic fashion, read on.
Here’s a link to the original piece in the Journal of Policy History.
As I did yesterday, I’ll pick some pieces out from the 2009 paper that I find interesting, which might not be yours, so feel free to comment on anything in the paper.
Scenario One: Evolutionary Dynamics
Since these laws were adopted, the agency has appeared to be wandering in the forest. Pounded in federal court, faced with drastic budget cuts and sharp reductions in personnel, it has struggled to find its way, leading one former chief to argue that it is mired in “analysis paralysis,” a logjam preventing it from doing its proper work. Complicating this struggle to define its contemporary mission has been steep declines in timber harvests, escalating population pressures along the urban-wildland interface, increased recreational use, intensifying forest fires, and serious water-management issues.
No wonder the agency’s morale is low. 10
The footnote goes to 10. Jack Ward Thomas, “What Now? From a Former Forest Service Chief,” in A Vision for the Forest Service: Goals for Its Next Century, ed. Roger Sedjo (Washington, D.C., 2000), 10–43; Char Miller, “Identity Crisis,” Forest Magazine, Winter 2008, 44–47. I don’t recall my morale being low in 2009, and if it had been low, it would have been more about irritating supervisors or employees, byzantine hiring practices, and inscrutable computer applications, and not so much about an agency identity crisis. But that’s just me.
And “analysis paralysis” was actually part of a broader social tendency, which we find in articles about “why we can’t build things” and similar topics. Although when we worked on it (I was the NEPA person on the Process Predicament team) we never thought ourselves as part of a larger societal movement. For example in the recent discussions of Abundance by Brink Lindsey (April 25, 2025 to be exact:
The irony, as Klein and Thompson point out repeatedly, is that this new progressivism has ended up empowering an especially hidebound kind of conservatism: an enervating “procedure fetish” within government, combined with a hydra-head “vetocracy” outside. This combination has saddled us with a woefully underperforming public sector generally, and an especially profound disability with respect to any project involving the large-scale rearrangement of atoms in the physical world.
The FS was talking about this in the 90’s, but no one was listening. The change that I see is that due to climate change mitigation, different and more important folks want to rearrange atoms.
Scenario Two: Devolutionary Process:
Indeed, a proposed alteration that the Forest Service has faced—and to date has fended off —is the devolution of its lands and authority to the individual states in which its forests and grasslands are located.
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Much more plausible are calls for the creation of a cooperative conservation strategy in which local groups and federal land managers together develop forest plans. Th is has a historical basis, too: Circular 21 (1898), which promoted the agency’s cooperation with private landowners, found its analogue in other initiatives that encouraged forest rangers to discuss with local communities and economic interests how best to manage the forests. More recently, cooperative actions have been nurtured by the National Forest Management Act and the Endangered Species Act, which require public participation and interagency coordination. They have also been energized by community environmental initiatives promoted at the 1997 Seventh American Forest Congress. Bolstered by university-sponsored think-tanks,such as the Public Policy Research Institute at the University of Montana, they have launched several successful ventures, including the Quincy Library Group (1992) and the New Ranch program developed by the Quivira Coaltion (1997). The latter seeks to operate within what it calls the “radical center—a neutral place where people could explore their interests instead of argue their positions—and at the grassroots, literally the ‘grass’ and the ‘roots,’ where, we believed, trust needed to be built anew.” 16 The “Lubrecht Conversations,” held outside Missoula, Montana, in 1998, shared this commitment to a “bottom-up” approach to national-policy reform. Local consensus management would evolve to include wider water-shed and bioregional perspectives that then would shape the national agenda.
Most captivating was the group’s call for the creation of a “virtual” Region 7 within the Forest Service wherein districts and forests would propose “to develop practical collaborative decision-making processes at the local/regional level, which might eventually evolve into a national restatement of basic mission.” If acceptable, the Forest Service would fund the experiment but would not retain authority over its design or implementation. 17
Although to date “Region 7” remains but a tantalizing idea, other experimental formats have been enacted. One on-the-ground example is the Valles Caldera Trust (2000), a government-owned entity that provides management and administrative services for the Valles Caldera National Preserve in northern New Mexico. This national preserve suggests the array of options that have been emerging in timber towns and ranch country in response to decades of political discord, legal wrangling, and bureaucratic entanglement.
This development received another push in August 2005, when the White House Conference on Cooperative Conservation convened, a sign that community-oriented, collaborative conservation has captured considerable political interest and generated significant momentum. 18
I thought all this was interesting because it makes me wonder what happened to those groups? QLG, Quivera, Valles Caldera? And if Collaborative Conservation was a thing in 2005, how did we end up with the recent Rock Springs RMP, Lava Ridge Wind Project (granted those were BLM, and therefore more overtly/organizationally political). Are “bottom-up” efforts to some extent overwhelmed by national partisan political inclinations and the wills of key Admin allies?
Scenario Three: Revolutionary Impulse
The creation of a new Department of Conservation in the executive branch, by contrast, would expand the federal managerial presence and its regulatory authority. With a seat in the cabinet, this department would house the nation’s most important land-management agencies—the Bureau of Land Management, the Bureau of Reclamation, the Fish and Wildlife Service, the Forest Service, the Geological Survey, the National Resources Conservation Service, and the National Park Service, among other entities. By creating economies of scale and greater efficiencies of action, this new department would save money and would serve as a standard bearer for the modern environmental movement.
Miller has a history of related efforts on pages 98-99
Despite the failure of these various presidents to create a conservation superagency, there are signs that an integration of agency function is under way. In 1997, Congress authorized a program called Service First: Working Together, in which the Forest Service and the Bureau of Land Management were authorized to merge various functions. One such joint venture is the Durango Public Lands Center. Th rough it, the two agencies manage their lands in southwestern Colorado. Th e leadership of the San Juan National Forest and the San Juan Field BLM Office, like the twelve-person staff , is “cross delegated.” Because each employee is responsible for “all aspects of the two agencies’ work and is equally responsible to the USFS Regional Forester and BLM State Director,” because each is required to be fluent in both agencies’ statutory regulations and wears the two uniforms, this is an innovative, even unusual, arrangement. The San Juan is “the only organization in the country with a single team providing leadership in all aspects of land management and public service for the two federal agencies.” 23
These interchanges are part of a larger attempt to merge scarce skills and resources among the nation’s land-management agencies. Forest policy expert
Sally K. Fairfax has argued that more should be done to facilitate the convergence of the identities and missions of these agencies. Noting that “the historic distinctions and feuds” between the Forest Service, the National Park Service, and the Bureau of Land Management “no longer matter,” she observes: “The hostility between the advocates of forest reserves and park reserves that began before either agency was formed conceals the fact that for most of their existence, they have been more alike than not. As timber fades as a Forest Service preoccupation, and recreation emerges as dominant [in] present and future concerns, the justifications for having multiple and distinct federal management agencies fade as well.” 24
The often-prescient Fairfax said this in 2005. Of course, both BLM and the FS have fuel management as goals, and BLM has the additional responsibility for minerals.. but still her views seem eminently reasonable.
Lending further credence to her argument is a November 2006 Memorandum of Understanding that the Bureau of Land Management and the Forest Service signed in partnership with the Fish and Wildlife Service and the National Park Service. It committed the four agencies “to carry out shared or joint management activities to achieve mutually beneficial resource management goals.” Service First authority has been utilized primarily for merging offices, issuing joint permits, sharing management, and creating single points of contact for resource programs. Given the patchwork of lands each agency manages and the proximity of their holdings, this integrative approach makes considerable sense, so much so that the Bureau of Indian Affairs, the Bureau of Reclamation, and the Army Corps of Engineers are considering seeking Service First authorization. In this incremental fashion, the dream of a Department of Conservation that has eluded several presidents.
Whatever happened to Service First? Often critics of rapid change will argue that change should occur slowly, but organizational antibodies tend to react strongly to change. For example, I was told by a knowledgeable person that the San Juan experiment was stopped by one State Director. I found this hard to believe, but organizations survive, I guess due to their strong immune systems.
I should note here that the alignment of the Dept of Conservation is not the same as moving the FS to Interior and not the same as “one Wildfire Agency”. Still it gives us the picture of the long-term signal versus any individual reorganizational effort.
From Miller’s summary:
Separately, none of the three scenarios sketched out here—evolution, devolution, revolution—will have much chance of redefining the Forest Service’s twenty-first century structure or its guiding perspectives. None of these possibilities will be achieved without reference to or in combination with the others. Moreover, although any change in the agency’s land-management mission will require internal support from the leadership and staff of the Forest Service, the real locus of any such transformation lies in Congress and the executive branch.
But of course many structures can support the same mission. What do you think?