Utah’s public lands are part of who we are, but recent devastating wildfires remind us we cannot take them for granted. Nearly everyone has a story connected to these landscapes. They are where family traditions begin, where a love for the outdoors takes root and where generations of Utahns have developed the resilient, community-minded spirit that defines this state.
Trails in the Uintas, campsites near Moab and countless other sites are places people return to with their children. Now, as we watch hundreds of thousands of acres of our public lands burn, I am reminded that we must focus on policies that protect rather than divide.
Congress considers an endless stream of proposals aimed at protecting Utah’s public land, but few are actually effective. In 2025, Mike Lee put forward proposals to make federal land easier to sell or transfer, raising important questions about how these lands should be managed as Utah continues to grow. It was a bold notion, widely misunderstood and ultimately abandoned.
Public lands are part of daily life. They carry memory, meaning and connection until they become political.
More recently, President Donald Trump signed presidential proclamations modifying the boundaries of both Bears Ears National Monument and the Grand Staircase-Escalante National Monument. Whether you agree or disagree with that action, there is a strong case for bringing decision-making closer to the communities that live near and rely on these lands. Arguably, recent massive fires demonstrate that federal land management is not always optimal. These real challenges deserve real attention.
Too often that is not what happens. The productive conversation around Lee’s proposal quickly devolved. What could have remained a focused discussion about housing, access and land management instead became a broader political fight. Even as Lee worked to pull back the proposal, the respective sides had all gone to “DEFCON 1.” Strong reactions from all sides and competing narratives turned what should have been a nuanced discussion into a binary and bitter debate.
In the process, the opportunity to focus on practical, cooperative solutions was lost.
The debate over Trump’s actions is already heating up. Before we reach a boiling point, we need to take a breath and consider the impact the policies have on the lands themselves, not just the political implications.
Why? Because Utah is facing the consequences. Our state is on fire while housing and transportation demand continues to skyrocket. Communities face limited access, infrastructure gaps and decisions made far from the people most affected. It has never been so obvious that the current system leaves almost everyone unsatisfied and our lands too often poorly managed.
We owe more to the places that have given us so much.
Public lands are a part of what makes Utah feel like home.
A family seeing their favorite campground reduced to ashes is not thinking about partisan politics. They are thinking about losing the trail their kids love, the places they know and the time they spend together. Public lands are part of daily life. They carry memory, meaning and connection until they become political.
Utahns share a commitment to access, stewardship and responsibility for future generations. But getting there requires more than broad proposals, not all-or-nothing debates. It requires focusing on what can actually be done and done well.
Some of that work is already happening. Rep. Celeste Maloy helped lead in developing the Utah State Parks Adjustment Act to show what a more practical approach can look like. The bill has already passed Congress and is now being implemented. It brings specific parcels under state ownership, where they can be better managed and utilized in ways that serve Utah families. In doing so, it allows for local decision-making — rather than just the federal bureaucracy — in shaping our land’s future.
These kinds of efforts tend to draw broader support because they focus on practical needs instead of political agendas. Public lands are a part of what makes Utah feel like home. They are where families reconnect, where traditions are passed down and where people experience the landscapes that shape this state and its future. Protecting these places is not about choosing sides. It is about doing the work together to ensure they remain part of our lives for generations to come.