I woke up today with the “This Land is Your Land” song in my head. Things of this random nature happen to me sometimes. Okay, they happen to me all the time. I was singing it in the shower when I realized how utterly depressing this song is. It’s about manifest destiny – the idea that the land (in the States in particular) is “ours” through destiny. Through fate. Assigned to us by a superior being. “Made” for us to use and enjoy as we see fit.
Of course, there were many versions of the song, some of which were clearly politicized to show a disinterest in privatizing property. The idea that the land was something that belonged to everyone was a novel concept, perhaps, when the song was written. What about the novel idea that the land belongs to no one?
I read the song in two principal ways: either the land belongs to everyone, meaning that (1) no one can lay claim to particular resources because everyone has some kind of right to the resources, or, (2) since the land belongs to everybody, nobody can lay claim to those uses without universal consensus.
This is assuming of course that when you say this land belongs to “you and me” it’s referring to human-peoples rather than the plants and animals that live with the Earth rather than on it.
State history has usually (and predictably) followed version #1: if the land is not privately owned, then everyone has some kind of right to the resources within. Option #2 is laughable – when has humanity ever, as a species (or even a country) had the foresight to agree on land use options? Over-exploitation was the legacy of public land until fairly recently, and its roots still have a strangle hold in some areas. Take my beloved Oregon: in the southeast arid land of the State cattle grazers still think that the land there is appropriate for cattle even though over 30 years of scientific studies show that cattle destroy riparian habitat, seriously damage sage-steppe ecosystems by contributing to soil loss, and encourage the spread of invasive species that are not palatable to native grazers. Since this kind of practice is going on right now in what is typically considered a “green” state, it’s no surprise that this kind of folk song is celebrated in the States – land use and land exploration was one of the founding principles of the “American Spirit”. All the worse for us, I say. Manifest destiny cripples us because most people can’t move past the idea that conquering land, and people, and nature is a good thing. Destruction and overuse are nothing to be proud of. Why not conquer health-care problems, or education problems or cruelty to children and animals?
My guess is that those things don’t inspire the proper frontier spirit. I mean, dealing with such things means paperwork. And compromise. And lawyers. Are you shuddering? Most people do. But people don’t shudder when they think of a cowboy out on the range, or a farmer standing behind his plow. American Spirit has been, and still is, defined by sweat and blood and the spirit of exploration and overcoming the wilderness – whether that wilderness is actual or metaphorical!
Land users still have this perception that the land is there for them to use until it is used up, because if they don’t use it and capitalize on the resources, someone else will benefit. This is the Tragedy of the Commons, and it’s still very much alive today. And forget the famous field-and-cattle analogy – the Earth is the “commons” that we are all rushing to use for our immediate gain. Whoever gets there first and fastest has become whoever uses the most and fastest. Add on top of that unchecked human population growth and the tragedy of the commons is more than the tragedy of overuse: it’s resource-rape. The “Quiver-full” movement is a perfect example of the extreme side to the Tragedy of the Commons. In fact, I’ve had people tell me it’s a good idea to have children and fill up the Earth, because if you don’t do it first, someone else will take the resources meant for your cluster of cells. The essay is called a “tragedy” for a reason, folks. Garrett Hardin saw how open land use leads to exploitation. It’s never discussed directly in his essay, but there are underlying themes of human greed, inability to cooperate and lack of foresight. There is also Garrett Hardin’s perception that regulation is needed to control human activity on public land, which I think speaks to how ingrained the right for individual use and exploitation (for economic gain in particular) is in this country. I can’t speak for other countries, but I suspect this is a theme of human existence and land use everywhere.
![]() |
| Steens Mountain — public land in Oregon! |
The problem with this is that “getting there first” creates a relationship with the land that is use-based. Use the resources and move on, manifest destiny tells us. Conquer the world. Back when the United States was young the Earth was a huge place. Or so they tell us in the history books that romanticize the frontier spirit. They did not have the foresight to realize that as human population exceeds our planet’s generously calculated carrying capacity, the Earth’s resources become slim. And I’m just talking about resources specifically for human consumption – forget “aesthetic” (oh how I loath that distinction) resources like wilderness. Goodbye, manifest destiny; there is nothing left for you to conquer.
In summary: humanity, you suck. Please find a way to destroy yourself without destroying the Earth as well. Seriously, I wish you all the luck in the universe to that end.
In the alternative, my second solution would be to support more government regulation. That is, until I remember the government is run by humans as well. This flaw is easy to see in the history of public land management: a history of overuse in the form of timber harvesting, mining and exploitative grazing. Even the Taylor Grazing Act of 1834 did not solve the problem, even though it was largely written to tighten the use of public lands to prevent overgrazing. Range lands throughout the United States are still overgrazed, damaged, and unsuitable for wildlife and native plants. In fact, ranchers receive a subsidy to graze their cattle on federal land. To this day, fences, reservoirs, dams and seeding the land with non-native grasses are called “improvements” in our land management statutes. More proof that the concept of manifest destiny is still very much alive in the very framework of our government.
Perhaps the best solution would be to bow down to a robot overlord. We have created robots who can teach themselves to shoot a bow and arrows, or adjust their flight path to changing conditions, or visit Europa, or play chess. We have also created machines that have outgrown and surpassed their parents — they even commit patricide.
Let’s create something worthwhile for a change: a super intelligent ecosystem manager robot. Something that can regulate population growth and make laws that would protect the land without being prone to political wrangling or damaging human concepts like manifest destiny or religious puffery. Any robot who uses science – or is at least is programmed to err on the side of ecosystem protection when the science is unclear – would do a better job of land management than the system we have now.
And it would have to have lasers of course.


No comments:
Post a Comment