America’s vast public lands, a patrimony of grasslands, mountains, and vital ecosystems, are increasingly at the center of a contentious debate over economic utility versus environmental stewardship, with a bedrock federal subsidy program for livestock grazing now benefiting some of the nation’s wealthiest individuals and corporations. This system, originally conceived to support family ranchers and prevent ecological devastation, has evolved into a significant financial boon for an elite few, raising questions about taxpayer fairness and the long-term health of Western rangelands. At the heart of this controversy stands figures like Stan Kroenke, a billionaire magnate whose estimated $20 billion fortune, derived from vast property holdings and stakes in iconic sports franchises like the Denver Nuggets and Arsenal soccer club, hardly suggests a need for government assistance. Yet, Kroenke, whose wife is an heiress to the Walmart fortune, significantly benefits from one of the federal government’s long-standing subsidy programs.

As the owner of Nevada’s expansive Winecup Gamble Ranch, a property that stretches across nearly a million acres of varied terrain east of Elko, Kroenke leverages federal public lands to graze his cattle at a fraction of the cost he would incur on private acreage. He pays the government approximately $50,000 annually in grazing fees for the Bureau of Land Management (BLM) land associated with his ranch, a staggering 87% discount compared to prevailing market rates. This arrangement allows his operation to sustain an estimated 9,000 head of cattle, showcasing how a program formalized in the 1930s to mitigate the rampant overgrazing that fueled the Dust Bowl now disproportionately serves interests far removed from its original intent. Beyond billionaire hobby ranchers, the public-lands grazing program extends its benefits to mining conglomerates, utility companies, and massive corporate outfits, providing advantages unimaginable by its founding legislators.

The current administration has signaled its intent to further expand the generosity of this program, pushing to open even more of the 240 million acres managed by the Bureau of Land Management and Forest Service to livestock grazing, while simultaneously advocating for reduced oversight of potential environmental damage. Proponents within the administration frame this expansion as a strategy to unlock the economic potential of public lands, asserting it will fuel the economy and contribute to reducing the national debt. Secretary of the Interior Doug Burgum articulated this perspective during his January confirmation hearing, stating, "That’s the balance sheet of America, and, if we were a company, they would look at us and say, ‘Wow, you are really restricting your balance sheet.’" This economic-first approach to public land management reflects a long-standing tension in Western states, where debates over resource extraction, conservation, and traditional uses frequently clash.

An extensive investigation into the grazing system’s transformation into a substantial subsidy program reveals a stark financial reality. While Congress in the late 1970s attempted to align public land grazing fees with open market prices, these fees have remained virtually stagnant for decades. Today, the government charges ranchers a mere $1.35 per animal unit month (AUM), a unit representing the forage consumed by a cow and her calf in a month. This fee represents, on average, a 93% discount compared to grazing prices on private lands. The financial implications for taxpayers are immense: in 2024 alone, the federal government channeled at least $2.5 billion into various subsidy programs accessible to public-lands ranchers. These benefits extend beyond discounted forage, encompassing disaster assistance for droughts and floods, heavily subsidized crop insurance, funding for critical infrastructure like fences and watering holes, and compensation for livestock lost to predators.

These substantial benefits, however, do not flow equally. Data analysis reveals a significant concentration of control, with a select few ranchers dominating the public lands. Approximately two-thirds of all livestock grazing on BLM acreage falls under the control of just 10% of permittees. On Forest Service lands, the top 10% of permittees manage over 50% of grazing activity. This highly concentrated control is not a recent phenomenon; a similar study conducted in 1999 found the same proportion of grazing within BLM jurisdiction controlled by the largest ranchers. This enduring disparity challenges the notion that the program broadly supports the ranching community, instead highlighting its function in solidifying the economic power of major agricultural players and wealthy landowners.

Meanwhile, the federal agencies responsible for safeguarding public lands have seen their capacity for environmental oversight severely diminished. Legislative changes have increasingly allowed grazing permits to be automatically renewed, even in instances where crucial environmental reviews remain incomplete or when the land itself has been identified as being in poor ecological condition. This trend exacerbates concerns about the long-term health of these fragile ecosystems. On Kroenke’s Winecup Gamble Ranch, for example, the Bureau of Land Management has already identified degradation due to overgrazing. Attempts to seek comment from Kroenke’s representatives went unanswered, while Paul Fireman, the former Reebok CEO who previously owned the ranch, declined comment. Fireman, before Kroenke, had used losses from ranch-affiliated companies to claim a staggering $22 million in tax write-offs between 2003 and 2018, according to internal IRS data, illustrating another layer of financial benefit for ultra-wealthy owners. The ranch’s lineage of notable owners even includes Hollywood legend Jimmy Stewart, further cementing its appeal as a luxury asset.

The administration’s push to further bolster the livestock industry unfolds largely behind closed doors. In May, the BLM submitted a draft of proposed revisions to federal grazing regulations—the first significant updates since the 1990s—to the U.S. Department of the Interior. These proposed changes precede a comprehensive "Plan to Fortify the American Beef Industry," released in October, which specifically instructs the BLM and Forest Service to amend grazing regulations. These amendments target critical aspects such as the process for obtaining grazing permits and the methods for assessing environmental damage caused by livestock. The plan also advocates for increasing existing subsidies related to drought and wildfire relief, compensation for predator-killed livestock, and government-backed insurance, underscoring a broader governmental strategy to embed and expand support for the beef industry across the Western landscape.

In response to queries, a BLM spokesperson affirmed the agency’s mandate includes "sustaining a healthy and economically viable grazing program that benefits rural communities, supports America’s ranching heritage, and promotes responsible stewardship of public lands." The statement further highlighted grazing’s role in local economies and land management tools, such as reducing wildfire risk and managing invasive species. The U.S. Department of Agriculture echoed this sentiment, emphasizing livestock grazing as a "federally and statutorily recognized appropriate land use" and a "proven land management tool" for enhancing ecosystem health.

Ranchers, including those like Bill Fales, whose family has run a ranch in western Colorado for over a century, argue that taxpayers benefit indirectly from these programs. Fales contends that public-lands grazing helps prevent private land from being sold and developed, thereby preserving open ranch land crucial for wildlife. As urban sprawl encroaches on habitats elsewhere, the public and private lands grazed by his cattle increasingly serve as shared territories for elk, bears, and mountain lions. Ranching, they assert, is not merely an economic activity but a cultural anchor, preserving a distinct American way of life and providing essential commodities like meat, leather, and wool. However, major trade groups representing public lands ranchers did not respond to requests for comment, leaving their perspectives on the record largely unarticulated in this investigation.

Despite these arguments, critics and many ranchers alike concede a fundamental truth: without these substantial subsidies, many smaller operators would struggle to remain in business. This acknowledgement underscores the intricate and often paradoxical nature of the federal grazing program. Historically, the uncontrolled grazing of the mid-1800s, spurred by westward expansion and policies promoting "manifest destiny," led to widespread ecological degradation. As settlers, backed by federal power, appropriated Indigenous lands for the public domain, the consequences of unchecked livestock populations became dire. Colorado Democrat Rep. Edward Taylor, observing the "waste, competition, overuse, and abuse of valuable range lands and watersheds" in the 1930s, warned that "the livestock industry, through circumstances beyond its control, was headed for self-strangulation." The Taylor Grazing Act of 1934, enacted during the Great Depression and Dust Bowl era, was a direct response, establishing a permit system to manage grazing on public domain lands and prevent further ecological collapse. Subsequent legislation, like the Federal Land Policy and Management Act of 1976, aimed to modernize public land laws, mandating federal agencies to balance competing uses, including grazing, mining, and recreation.

While ranching interest groups highlight the industry’s economic contributions, citing Agriculture Department research that public lands ranching generates $3.3 billion in annual economic output and supports nearly 50,000 jobs, the actual proportion of national beef production derived from these lands is remarkably small. Grazing on public lands accounts for just 2% of the nation’s beef cattle, representing a vanishingly small segment of the country’s overall agriculture industry. This fact amplifies the argument that the disproportionate federal investment does not align with its contribution to the national food supply.

The investigation further identified J.R. Simplot Co., a multinational agricultural conglomerate that made its fortune selling potatoes to McDonald’s, as the largest rancher on BLM land. This corporate behemoth benefits from a $2.4 million annual discount on market rates, grazing nearly 150,000 AUMs on federal lands last year. Across the entire industry, the $21 million collected by the BLM and Forest Service from ranchers last year was approximately $284 million below the market rate for forage, representing a significant revenue loss for the public treasury. Fales, the Colorado rancher, acknowledges his reliance on cheaper federal forage, explaining that private leases typically involve more productive land, and public leases often require ranchers to shoulder infrastructure maintenance costs beyond agency funding. However, the full financial and environmental cost to taxpayers remains largely unquantified.

Diminished federal oversight compounds the environmental challenges. The number of BLM rangeland managers plummeted by 39% between 2019 and 2024, with another 9% reduction projected by June 2025 following a mass exodus of federal employees. Each remaining manager is now responsible for an average of 716 square miles, rendering comprehensive annual inspections impossible. This understaffing creates a critical vulnerability for the vast public lands, leaving them susceptible to unchecked environmental damage from excessive grazing.

The phenomenon of public-lands grazing extending beyond traditional ranching is starkly evident in other cases. Media mogul Rupert Murdoch, for instance, acquired Montana’s Beaverhead Ranch for $200 million in 2021. While advertised as encompassing 340,000 acres, two-thirds of this expansive property consists of public land leased from the Forest Service and BLM. Beaverhead Ranch paid less than $25,000 in federal grazing fees last year, a 95% discount below market rate. One of its BLM allotments, Long Creek AMP in the scenic Centennial Valley, is already failing environmental standards due to grazing. Murdoch, through a spokesperson, described the purchase as a "profound responsibility," expressing privilege "to assume ownership of this beautiful land and look forward to continually enhancing both the commercial cattle business and the conservation assets across the ranch." Wealthy families like the Murdochs and Rockefellers often own such ranches for a blend of luxury, status, property tax breaks, and federal tax deductions for business expenses. Critically, federal grazing permits are often assigned to owners of nearby private "base properties," thereby inflating the value of these private holdings and transforming them into stable, long-term investments.

Beyond media moguls, public-lands grazing permits also serve the strategic interests of other industries. The Southern Nevada Water Authority, constantly seeking new water sources for the Las Vegas Valley, purchased land hundreds of miles from the city primarily to secure groundwater rights. These properties came with inherited public-lands grazing permits, which the utility maintains as part of its "maintenance and management of property assets, ranch assets, and environmental resources." Similarly, major copper-mining companies like Freeport-McMoRan, Hudbay Minerals, and Rio Tinto operate extensive cattle operations in Arizona, often using grazing permits to gain greater control over areas surrounding their mines. Hudbay Minerals stated that "Ranching and mining have coexisted in Arizona for generations, and we operate both with the same commitment to land stewardship and care for our neighboring communities." The largest of these, Nevada Gold Mines, a joint venture between the world’s two largest gold-mining companies, holds millions of acres of grazing permits around its northern Nevada operations, including the largest gold-mining complex globally. Chris Jasmine, the company’s manager of biodiversity and rangelands, candidly explained, "We own them for access. Access to mineral rights, water rights and mitigation credits." These permits facilitate participation in environmental restoration programs, allowing the company to earn or sell credits to offset its own environmental impacts and expand its mining operations. Jeff Burgess, who monitors grazing subsidies through his Arizona Grazing Clearinghouse website, questions the efficacy of such massive government assistance for taxpayers, asking, "When does the spigot stop? When do we stop throwing away money? It’s a tyranny of the minority."

The Barta family’s BTAZ Nevada operation in central Nevada’s Reese River Valley exemplifies the ongoing consolidation within the livestock industry, the pervasive reliance on subsidies, and the environmental degradation that often accompanies it. Despite the dilapidated state of the former Hess Ranch headquarters, BTAZ Nevada, owned by the Fremont, Nebraska-based Barta family, founders of the online prescription medication provider Sav-Rx, has assembled a vast livestock empire spanning approximately 4,000 square miles of public lands across Nevada, Oregon, and Nebraska. Last year, BTAZ paid the government $86,000 in grazing fees, a staggering $679,000 below market rate. This operation, despite its scale, is not without controversy; the family patriarch, Jim Barta, was convicted in 2013 on felony bribery charges, though the conviction was later overturned.

Environmental consequences of BTAZ’s extensive grazing are evident. In the Toiyabe Range of Nevada, where BTAZ’s BLM and Forest Service allotments converge, an investigation found cow feces covering the ground around stock tanks fed by mountain streams, with a dead raven floating on the water’s surface. The BLM has repeatedly flagged allotments in this area as failing land-health standards due to grazing in both 2020 and 2024. Higher in the mountains, the damage is more pronounced: swaths of ground are chewed bare and trampled, discarded plastic piping litters the landscape, and cow feces and bones are found in unfenced creeks. These very streams once provided critical habitat for the native Lahontan cutthroat trout, a threatened species whose range has shrunk to only 12% of its historical extent due to such degradation. Paul Ruprecht, Nevada director of the Western Watersheds Project, decries the situation as "completely unnecessary," arguing it neither significantly supports the local economy nor provides substantial food, while being heavily subsidized and detrimental to scenery and wildlife.

While smaller ranchers do have access to many of the same subsidies, these financial lifelines often prove insufficient to shield them from severe economic pressures. Approximately 18,000 permittees graze livestock on BLM or Forest Service land, yet the bottom half collectively accounts for less than 4% of AUMs on BLM land and under 10% on Forest Service land. These smaller operations lack the economies of scale enjoyed by larger corporations, making it difficult to navigate the inherently thin profit margins of agriculture. They are also acutely vulnerable to evolving environmental conditions, particularly the megadroughts and aridification exacerbated by climate change across the Southwest, which have strained water supplies. Further competition for forage comes from over 70,000 wild horses and burros roaming public lands. The consolidation within the meatpacking industry, where the four largest operations control over 80% of the market, grants them immense leverage to depress prices paid to ranchers, further squeezing profit margins.

Burgess, the Arizona Grazing Clearinghouse founder, contends that the federal government should cease propping up ranchers who are no longer economically viable. He asserts that the system represents "a vestige of the past," arguing that authorities "refuse to face the reality that a lot of people aren’t going to be able to raise cattle profitably, so they’re just throwing money at it." This perspective highlights the challenge of balancing historical practice with modern economic and ecological realities.

The potential ripple effects of ending public support, however, are significant, threatening to shutter businesses in rural towns and force small ranchers to sell their private lands, potentially to developers or to already wealthy owners like Kroenke or BTAZ. Mike and Danna Camblin, who operate a smaller cattle ranch near Colorado’s Yampa River, exemplify this predicament. Years of drought have compelled them to reduce their herd size, and despite record beef prices, they acknowledge they could not turn a profit without subsidized drought insurance and access to cheap federal grazing land. Mike Camblin recognizes the long-standing family connection to federal leases, stating, "Most of these BLM leases have been in the family for years and years, and, if you take care of it, the BLM will allow you to continue to stay." He expresses mixed feelings about the government assistance, noting it "tethers us to those subsidies," and critically observes that "they screwed up, they started subsidizing a lot of these guys clear back in the Dust Bowl," referring to the larger ranches that exploit the system. He favors income-based metrics to limit access for wealthier producers.

The precarious financial situation of smaller ranchers can inadvertently lead to environmental harm, as they might be compelled to overstock federal lands where grazing is more affordable. The Camblins, however, prioritize environmental stewardship, meticulously monitoring soil and plant health and rotating their several hundred cattle among pastures to allow the ground to recover. This responsible management, while beneficial for the land, adds to their operational costs. Mike Camblin, observing a fresh cow pat, notes, "A cow turd will tell you more than anything else," explaining that its flatness indicates sufficient protein intake from grass, and rapid degradation suggests healthy insect activity. "I spend more time looking down than at the cattle," he quips. Their operation leverages technology like virtual fencing, where cattle wear collars that administer a mild shock if they stray beyond red polygons displayed on Danna Camblin’s smartphone. These virtual fences, costing nearly $18,000 annually in leasing fees, offer flexibility to redraw boundaries instantly, shifting cattle to less-grazed areas without impeding migrating wildlife.

Silvia Secchi, an economist at the University of Iowa specializing in agriculture, argues for a fundamental reimagining of federal grazing subsidies to benefit the American public, rather than solely enriching the wealthiest ranchers. She proposes solutions such as subsidizing co-operatives to grant smaller ranchers economies of scale, imposing caps on the size of ranching operations eligible for below-market-rate forage, and phasing out disaster payments for climate change-driven droughts that are becoming a permanent feature of the landscape. Secchi warns, "We have baseline subsidies that are going up and up and up because we are not telling farmers to change the way you do things to adapt." Both Secchi and the Camblins agree that a complete cessation of public support would have severe repercussions for rural communities and landscapes, potentially jeopardizing the existence of small ranching operations like theirs. "You’re going to lose your small rancher," Mike Camblin concludes, highlighting the complex dilemma at the heart of America’s public lands grazing policy.