In the previous post I suggest that wildlife and rural communities both suffer from ineffective conservation.
From the viewpoint of a resident, one can look at the Delaware Bay as a graveyard of well intentioned but mostly unsuccessful attempts to manage natural resources. Most of these efforts come and go with only modestly positive effects. Many have huge potential, but this potential never quite crystallizes into tangible benefits. The accumulation of land devoted to public use sparkles the brightest in this meager constellation of semi-successes.
Public land undeniably protects the habitat and wildlife that resides within its borders. It also presents a host of potential benefits for residents – better quality of life, improved tourism, and increased recreational opportunities highest among them. This potential, however, never quite morphs into reality. Agencies have almost no funding to manage lands for wildlife or for the people that use them, and so most habitats go unmanaged. Adding to this lack of stewardship, the private lands and waterways surrounding public lands suffer a yearly draining of resources by commercial interests, leaving them ecologically impoverished.
Once you could hunt a state wildlife management area and bag the limit bobwhite quail, or take to a Delaware Bay creek and bring back a family-size bucket of large blue claw crabs. No more. Poorly regulated hunts mopped up the rapidly dwindling quail population after farmers implemented intensive farming techniques that left nothing for beleaguered wildlife. Most blue claw crabs find themselves scooped up by commercial operations, which pepper the bay with commercial traps and gather nearly all legal-size crabs. Ever wonder why every crab that tugs at your crab line measures just shy of legal?
The greatest negative impact of public land, however, is on property taxes. Public lands or lands devoted to conservation yield far less property tax for local governments than private land, thus contributing to the obscenely unfair property tax rates that prevail in New Jersey. State and federal agencies offer assistance to rural communities to offset this inequity, but the state owns most of the public land and offer miserly payments that always seem to be on the budgetary chopping block.
Many other examples of unfulfilled or outright failed programs exist. Residents endure the steady onslaught of these well-meaning conservation programs both public and private, knowing they won’t endure. They harbor little hope that the programs will alter the generally degraded condition of the land they know and love. Adding insult to injury, the programs rarely give substantive roles to locals, despite the fact that these are the people who arguably have the most to gain or lose. Usually they are advisers, or have no role at all. I saw this once in my hometown of Greenwich, New Jersey.
Next Post: alienating rural communities with good intentions.