Steve Pearce and the future of the BLM
By Benjamin Alva Polley EBS COLUMNIST
If you care about hunting elk in crisp October air, floating a clear-running river for cutthroat trout, or simply taking your kids camping beneath a sky unspoiled by drill rigs, you should be outraged that Steve Pearce was ever considered to run the Bureau of Land Management.
The BLM is the largest landlord in the West. It oversees nearly 245 million acres of public land—millions of those acres in and around Montana’s most cherished places. This land is the backbone of our elk and mule deer herds, our sage grouse leks, our pronghorn migration routes and our blue-ribbon trout streams. It’s also the stage on which Montana’s hunting, fishing and outdoor recreation economy plays out.
Putting someone with Steve Pearce’s environmental record in charge of that land is like handing your cabin keys to the arsonist who’s always hated it. In the four months since Pearce was first nominated, it emerged that, if confirmed, he and his wife would divest from more than 1,000 oil and gas leases in Oklahoma to address potential conflicts of interest. While some senators strongly support his “active forest management” approach, he still faces opposition from groups alarmed by his record on public land transfers. On March 4, the Senate Energy and Natural Resources Committee voted 11-9 to advance his nomination, despite concerns from conservation groups.
Pearce’s track record is no mystery. He has consistently sided with extractive industries at the expense of wildlife, habitat and public access. He has supported opening more public lands to oil and gas drilling, weakening bedrock environmental safeguards and undermining science-based management. His votes and public statements have signaled again and again that he sees wild country as an obstacle to be overcome, not a legacy to be stewarded.
For Montana, that posture is an existential threat. Our big-game herds rely on intact winter range and unfragmented migration corridors across BLM lands. Aggressive drilling, poorly planned roads and relaxed reclamation standards shred those habitats. Once you carve up a landscape with pads, pipelines and traffic, you don’t get solitude—or mature bull elk—back with the stroke of a pen.
Anglers should be just as alarmed. Headwater streams and riparian corridors on BLM ground are the life support system for native bull trout, cutthroat and wild trout. A BLM director hostile to environmental safeguards is far more likely to greenlight development that increases sediment, degrades water quality and depletes the cold, clean flows our rivers depend on.
If Pearce takes office, outdoor recreation—and the rural economies built around it—will not be spared. In Montana, hunting, fishing and outdoor recreation pump billions of dollars into local businesses, guiding operations, gear shops and main-street cafes. People travel here precisely because of the open space, healthy herds and functioning ecosystems that BLM lands help sustain. When those landscapes are sacrificed to short-term profit, we don’t just lose scenery; we lose jobs, identity and a way of life.
This is not a partisan issue, especially in Montana. Public lands are one of the few things we truly share: ranchers who graze allotments, tribal communities with cultural ties to these places, hunters and anglers who’ve long defended habitat, and families who just want a place to pitch a tent. A BLM director should be a careful, science-driven steward accountable to all Americans—not a politician with a history of dismissing environmental protections as red tape.
Montanans know what’s at stake. We’ve fought bad ideas before—land transfers, giveaway leases, rollbacks to bedrock conservation laws—and we’ve won when we stood together. Steve Pearce’s nomination should have been dead on arrival. The fact that he was even on the list tells us how vigilant we must remain.
Our outrage must translate into action: calling elected officials, packing public hearings, writing letters and voting as if our public lands are on the line. Truly, they are. The BLM needs a director who sees these landscapes the way Montanans do: as sacred ground, not a balance sheet.
Anything less is a betrayal of the wild inheritance we’re supposed to pass on.
Benjamin Alva Polley is a place-based storyteller. His words have been published in Rolling Stone, Esquire, Field & Stream, The Guardian, Men’s Journal, Outside, Popular Science, Sierra, and WWF, among other notable outlets, and are available on his website.
