Land-Rich, Cash-Poor: Idaho’s Forgotten Wealth Idahoans have never been afraid of hard work.
We’re the kind of folks who build roads in the morning, mend fences by noon, and debate politics over a strong cup of coffee in the evening. But despite our grit, there’s one challenge that sheer determination alone can’t fix: a land economy controlled by Washington, not by the people who live here.
It wasn’t always this way. In the days of the Homestead Act of 1862, land was given to settlers who were willing to roll up their sleeves and make something of it. Under the Enabling Acts that led to statehood, states like Idaho were promised land to support schools, infrastructure, and economic growth. The premise was simple: land was wealth, and states needed it to prosper.
Fast forward to today, and Idaho finds itself in a perplexing predicament. Over 62% of our total land base is locked under federal control, meaning much of our natural wealth sits idle—or worse, is managed from afar with policies that stifle rather than support local economies. The result? Public lands that serve national ideals but shortchange Idaho’s economic health.
This isn’t about turning every mountain into a subdivision or every forest into a strip mine. It’s about “balance”—about ensuring that public lands serve both conservation and communities. Right now, we’re stuck in an outdated model where vast tracts of land are kept from productive use, and Idahoans shoulder the costs: struggling schools, underfunded infrastructure, and rural economies forced to do more with less.
While Payment in Lieu of Taxes (PILT) offers some compensation, it’s a fraction of what we could gain from putting that land to work in sustainable ways. If the Homestead Act was about empowering individuals, and the Enabling Acts about empowering states, then today’s challenge is about empowering “local stewardship”.
It’s time we take a critical look at what’s being kept out of production and ask tough questions: “Who benefits from this arrangement? Why is Idaho subsidizing a land policy that limits its own prosperity? And how can we find solutions that both honor conservation and support economic vitality?” Because here’s the hard truth: “Wealth locked away is not wealth at all.” Idaho should no longer be holding bake sales to fund basic school supplies while sitting on a land base that could support “economic health, healthcare, and education with proper management”.
The future must be one where Idaho is no longer forced to beg for scraps but instead can harness its own natural wealth “for its own people”.