The history of Douglas County and the surrounding counties is vital to understanding the role of power and knowledge influencing forest management in the area. After Oregon became a state in 1859, the land was seen as a highly valuable area to settle, as many outside parties were interested in the area. In order to achieve this settlement, the Oregon and California Railroad Company (O&C) was given federal lands surrounding the plans for a railroad that stretched from Northern California to Portland, Oregon. The land was intended to be split into portions and sold cheaply to settlers, in hopes that the area would develop.
Unfortunately, settlers at the time had little interest in the land, so O&C began to illegally sell the land to logging industries and other companies. When the government found out, they took back the land, labeling it revested land. Congress again wanted to sell the land to other industries, this time taking the timber land and attempting to sell to agriculture industries, but yet again, agriculture industries were not interested in mountainous forest land.
The next chapter of the Douglas County history began when the federal government agreed that logging could continue, with an agreed 50/50 split in revenue between the county and the government. This provided a wealth of money and resources to Douglas County for many years, until the Northern Spotted Owl was listed as an endangered species, and the forests in which they inhabited were to be protected – meaning void of all degradation from human activities, including logging. This not only meant that the forests were considered off limits, but also meant that Douglas County (and all counties affected by the decision) also lost a huge portion of their revenue as a county.
It may not seem like losing logging as an industry would be harmful beyond any job loss, but as Douglas County is about 50% federally owned forests, very little land can be taxed. Most states, counties, and cities pay for resources like police, fire, libraries, etc. through taxes. In a place with very little taxable land like Douglas County, they rely on the timber industry to provide the resources that taxes cannot, meaning that their jobs, health, safety, education, and more are all in danger. In an attempt to reconcile, the county wanted the government to pay the equivalent to the previous logging revenue. Instead, the government offered the county the equivalent for the first year, and then a reduced amount every subsequent year for ten years, hoping that by then the problem would be solved. The problem was not resolved, and the county has been able to extend the safety measures, but by now the amount has been reduced to such an extreme that the county is looking for other solutions before declaring bankruptcy. This includes cutting cost such as libraries and other community resources.
Needless to say, Douglas County is in a tight spot. If the county were to be described as a battle-field, the main opponents would be the federal government and environmental groups who are fighting for the spotted owl and anti-deforestation. Douglas County, a seemingly benign region with little urban-growth, has been the hot-spot for a history of power plays. Growing up, and now going to school in two different PNW urban centers branded with sustainability (Seattle and Portland, in case you were wondering…), I went down to Douglas County with a few biases that I once held to be truth:
- Environmentalists are from cities or intentional/eco-communities. They compost and ride bikes or are tech-loving cosmopolitanists. They probably love to hike and have some degree of skill with a tent. They are not loggers. WRONG.
- The Endangered Species Act is inherantly good because it is more important to save endangered species, even if it is annoying for loggers. It is about nature and therefore does not directly affect humans in a meaningful way. WRONG.
- Religious conservatives, especially in a place like southern Oregon, are not environmentalists because their values do not follow environmental values. WRONG.
Having made my way to ENVS 350, and all the complex, interconnected glory that is the ENVS major, I assumed that I understood my own bias and that while knowledge was not inherantly absolute, mine was grounded in absolute college academics. From the first five minutes of listening to Doug Robertson speak, to the jeep with the huge Confederate flag that I saw as we drove out of Roseburg on our way home, I realized that I was wrong. It doesn’t even feel like I need to spend hours reflecting to reach this point. Instead it hit me in the face so forcefully that it was all that I could think about. I left the Douglas County Courthouse feeling mind-blown, and we had been in Roseburg for 2 hours, tops.
The reason I write this little bit o’ history for you is because it prompted me to think critically about history and the power that is in play. If you take a look at my first praxis proposal, you can see a little bit of the direction that I would like to take my inquires.
Much of this history was provided by Doug Robertson , a former Douglas County Commissioner, and Chris Boice, a current Douglas County Commissioner.