America’s expansive public lands and vital waters are far from abstract concepts; they are the tangible landscapes where citizens forge deep connections with nature, pursue livelihoods, and preserve cultural heritage. These diverse territories encompass the hunting grounds and hiking trails cherished by outdoor enthusiasts, the grazing pastures essential for ranchers, and the sacred ancestral sites revered by Indigenous tribes. They serve as weekend havens for families seeking respite and as vibrant classrooms where children discover the wonders of the natural world, from towering mountains to the depths of the ocean. Yet, beneath this rich tapestry of use and meaning, the foundational limits of the nation’s public land and water management systems are becoming acutely and dangerously evident.

A confluence of escalating challenges now tests these vital resources and the institutions charged with their stewardship. Across vast stretches of wilderness, wildlife populations face alarming declines, signaling a broader biodiversity crisis that impacts ecological stability. Recreation sites, experiencing unprecedented visitation surges, groan under the weight of popularity, often critically underfunded and strained beyond capacity. The very character of the land is transforming as wildfires grow larger, more intense, and increasingly destructive, outpacing traditional containment strategies and devastating communities and ecosystems alike. Simultaneously, the relentless march of climate change is rapidly reshaping natural systems, from the productivity of ocean fisheries to the critical snowpacks that feed arid regions, at a pace far exceeding the institutional capacity to adapt. In parallel, communities across the nation are grappling with the imperative to host new energy projects, expansive transmission lines, and mineral development — all critical for a modern economy and a sustainable future. However, these crucial transitions are frequently marred by opaque processes, insufficient resources, and a palpable lack of trust that decisions truly prioritize the public interest.

The very frameworks designed to manage these complex interdependencies are undeniably showing their age. Tracy Stone-Manning, president of The Wilderness Society and former director of the Bureau of Land Management under President Joe Biden, alongside Lynn Scarlett, former global chief external affairs officer at The Nature Conservancy and former United States Deputy Secretary of the Interior under President George W. Bush, bring decades of bipartisan experience to this urgent conversation. Both are advisory board members of Ground Shift, a newly formed initiative dedicated to fostering cross-partisan dialogue about the future of America’s public lands and waters. Their collective experience, spanning leadership roles within federal agencies and prominent conservation organizations across both Democratic and Republican administrations, offers a unique perspective on the systemic pressures at play. They have witnessed firsthand the unwavering commitment of frontline land managers, dedicated scientists, and courageous wildland firefighters, yet they have also observed how often these professionals are hamstrung by antiquated laws, fragmented authorities across various agencies, chronic underfunding, and bureaucratic processes that render even common-sense solutions painstakingly slow and often ineffective.

What becomes increasingly clear is that many of today’s formidable challenges are not merely technical or financial in nature; they are deeply ingrained and structural. These issues reflect institutions and policies that were conceived and built for a profoundly different era, under distinct assumptions, and facing entirely different realities. The legislative bedrock of much of America’s public land management was laid in the mid-20th century, a time largely predating the widespread recognition of climate change, the explosion of mass recreation, the urgent need for large-scale renewable energy development, and the current, accelerating biodiversity crisis. This historical context compels a fundamental re-evaluation, leading to a simple yet profoundly urgent question: What do Americans truly want from and for their public lands and waters now – in a nation that is hotter, more populous, and far more economically and culturally complex than ever before?

This pivotal moment demands more than incremental adjustments or piecemeal fixes. It necessitates a paradigm shift, a commitment to fresh thinking, and a deliberate expansion of the voices at the decision-making table. Such a comprehensive reflection cannot be confined to any single ideology, constituency, or regional interest. America’s public lands and waters are a shared inheritance, belonging to and serving everyone: from the ranchers whose livelihoods depend on healthy rangelands to the recreationists seeking solace and adventure; from Indigenous peoples whose ancestral homelands these are to urban families yearning for natural escapes; from energy workers driving the nation’s future to wildlife biologists safeguarding biodiversity.

To effectively navigate the multifaceted challenges of this century, the nation must harness the full diversity of American experiences and perspectives. The goal is to forge a durable, widely supported vision that ultimately delivers more – not less – from these shared lands and waters. This expanded vision includes more accessible parks and outdoor opportunities for all citizens, ensuring equitable access to nature’s benefits. It means securing more clean water and fostering resilient watersheds, crucial for public health and economic stability. It entails striving for more abundant wildlife and connected habitats, vital for ecological integrity. It demands more healthy forests capable of resisting megafires and restored rivers that sustain vibrant ecosystems. Crucially, it requires more authentic collaboration with tribal nations in stewarding their ancestral homelands, recognizing their inherent sovereignty and invaluable traditional ecological knowledge. It also means granting more voice to local communities in decisions that directly impact their lives and landscapes, fostering a sense of ownership and trust. Furthermore, this vision encompasses more clean energy development and responsibly sourced minerals, essential for national security and the transition to a green economy. Ultimately, it calls for more Americans actively engaged in shaping the destiny of these irreplaceable places.

Achieving this transformative vision, however, demands a deliberate departure from familiar silos and entrenched patterns of engagement. For far too long, critical conversations about public lands have been confined to narrow circles: agency experts primarily consulting with other agency experts, conservation groups predominantly speaking to their existing supporters, rural communities often feeling marginalized from decisions that profoundly affect their livelihoods, and tribal nations continuing to battle for meaningful recognition of their sovereignty and stewardship rights. If the nation is honest, even well-intentioned reform efforts frequently remain constrained by the very institutional habits and political divides that have perpetuated today’s pervasive gridlock.

The current status quo is anything but neutral; it generates tangible and often severe consequences on the ground. These impacts manifest as communities waiting years, sometimes decades, for essential restoration projects that could mitigate fire risk or improve water quality. They are evident in tribal nations struggling to achieve co-management authority over lands they have stewarded for millennia. They are felt by wildland firefighters stretched beyond their capacity, battling increasingly uncontrollable blazes. They are experienced by families navigating overcrowded national parks, diminishing the quality of their outdoor experiences. And most critically, they are reflected in species slipping ever closer to extinction, a irreversible loss for future generations. If a different, more sustainable future is desired, then fundamentally different questions must be asked, and new approaches must be embraced.

Historically, when public land policy reached a critical inflection point, the country responded with periods of profound reflection and institutional reinvention. The most influential example emerged in the 1960s, a transformative era marked by a rising environmental consciousness. During this time, Congress convened a bipartisan group of leaders and experts to comprehensively rethink how public lands should be managed. That seminal effort culminated in the landmark 1970 report, "One-Third of Our Nation’s Lands," which provided the intellectual and policy groundwork for much of modern federal land policy, including legislation like the Federal Land Policy and Management Act (FLPMA) and the National Environmental Policy Act (NEPA).

Sixty years later, the nation stands at another critical inflection point, facing an even more complex array of environmental, social, and economic pressures. However, today, the kind of big-picture, systemic rethinking required is unlikely to emerge from within government alone. Federal agencies are often stretched thin, operating with limited resources and mandates. Congress is deeply polarized, making consensus-driven, long-term policy solutions exceedingly difficult. And political cycles, driven by immediate electoral concerns, often reward short-term gains over the patient, visionary work of long-term system design.

This reality does not mean that the vital work of reform should be postponed. Instead, it signals that the scope of this work must broaden significantly. The civic space – encompassing universities and research institutions, tribal governments, local governments, experienced land managers, dedicated ranchers, diverse conservationists, forward-thinking industry leaders, and grassroots community organizers – can and must play an expanded role in shaping the next chapter of governance for America’s public lands and waters. Their involvement is not intended to replace public institutions but rather to invigorate and help them evolve, providing external perspectives, innovative solutions, and broad-based support.

There is an urgent need for neutral spaces where unconventional ideas can be explored and tested without the immediate imposition of partisan framing; where individuals and groups who hold differing views on specific policies can nonetheless come together to grapple with shared realities such as megafires, prolonged drought, and accelerating biodiversity loss. These spaces must foster an environment where reform is understood not as a threat to established interests, but as a necessary and collaborative means to achieve better, more resilient stewardship for the benefit of all.

In a nation frequently characterized by deep divisions, public lands and waters offer some of the strongest points of common connection. They are the places where countless Americans still encounter something profoundly larger than themselves: the intricate workings of a river system, the resilience of a fire-adapted forest, the delicate balance of a desert ecosystem, or the epic journey of a wildlife migration corridor. These shared natural wonders serve as a powerful reminder that beyond political differences, all Americans share a fundamental physical and ecological commons. How this invaluable commons is managed in the decades ahead will profoundly shape the nation’s communities, economies, cultures, and ecosystems. The systems inherited have brought the country this far, but the world for which they were built no longer exists. The pressing question now is whether the nation is willing to step back, listen more widely, and courageously create the necessary space for new ideas to take root – not as a superficial branding exercise or a calculated political maneuver, but as a truly necessary and collective act of stewardship for a rapidly changing nation.