forests

Gov. Gavin Newsom has vetoed a bill aimed at deprioritizing commercial logging in a unique state forest system, arguing the measure would jeopardize the ability to test best management practices.

At issue are the state’s 14 demonstration forests — managed by the California Department of Forestry and Fire Protection, or Cal Fire — which are billed as “living laboratories” for forest management practices. Under existing law, they’re directed to produce as much timber as can be sustained over time, while considering factors like recreation and wildlife.

Assembly Bill 2494 would have eliminated what’s often characterized as a logging mandate in favor of prioritizing values such as carbon storage, wildfire resilience and biodiversity conservation. It also would have directed state officials to seek agreements with Native American tribes to integrate their traditional knowledge into managing the land.

In Newsom’s veto message, he said the forests “produce cutting-edge strategies that inform forest management on public and private lands across California,” which is key for fighting climate change and improving wildfire resilience.

“By narrowing the management of these forests to a limited set of public benefits, this bill risks the state’s ability to fully demonstrate the best science-based practices,” he wrote Friday. “At a time when California is racing to keep pace with a rapidly changing climate, we cannot afford to lose the flexibility needed to safeguard our forests for future generations.”

The move deals a blow to a grassroots coalition that included tribes, environmentalists and mountain bikers, some of whom have fought for decades to rein in logging at Jackson Demonstration State Forest in Mendocino County. In recent years, activists have staged protests and tree sits, harkening back to the “timber wars” of the 1980s and ‘90s.

The bill grew in part out of discussions with constituents who wanted to see the forest run differently, according to its author, Assemblymember Chris Rogers (D-Santa Rosa).

Rogers, who represents the North Coast, called Newsom’s veto message “nonsensical” and said it didn’t reflect the language of the bill.

“Current law says that the guiding principle for the management of the forests is maximum sustained production of high-quality wood products,” he told The Times. “That’s much more narrow as a directive on how to manage those lands than by expanding it to include biodiversity, carbon sequestration, research, recreation.”

Polly Girvin, who pushed for changes at Jackson along with her late partner and tribal leader Priscilla Hunter, said the fight will continue under California’s next governor. She wants to see Native Americans take an even stronger leadership role going forward, pointing to rights afforded to them by state law.

“Our local tribal voice is not pro-logging; it’s really to keep the world in balance, to honor the cries of the ancestors, to try to save the trees from commercial logging,” said Girvin, a retired attorney focused on Native American law.

Leaders in Mendocino and Humboldt counties backed the measure. Humboldt County Supervisor Steve Madrone saw it as codifying practices that could help rebuild trust in the community, which he said Cal Fire had lost.

“It was not going to restrict it from being able to do all kinds of things,” he said. “Frankly, it was going to be better than just letting them kind of focus on board feet.”

Cal Fire’s Kevin Conway, who oversees the state’s demonstration forests, said he could not comment on the measure.

The bill was opposed by the Rural County Representatives of California, an advocacy group representing 40 counties, along with many in the timber and agriculture industries.

Staci Heaton, senior policy advocate for RCRC, echoed Newsom’s concerns that the legislation would have limited what could be done in the forests to achieve resilience, such as the ability to harvest trees of different sizes and types. She said they also had concerns about the funding structure and what she described as vague definitions in the bill, which could invite litigation.

“We appreciate the governor signaling that we’re going to continue to use sound forest management in California,” Heaton said.

Asked about the disagreement among some counties, she said there tends to be “more of a split in what people think good forest management looks like” when it comes to coastal redwood forests.

“We maintain that a lot of our forests really aren’t healthy in their current condition, and there’s too many straws in the ground, and there does need to be, in some areas, more aggressive management,” she said.

A sweeping bipartisan bill that seeks to prevent catastrophic wildfires and restore fire-ravaged forests has revealed a schism in the nation’s environmental movement as some conservation advocates find themselves allied with a longtime foe: loggers.

The Fix Our Forests Act, which Congress is close to passing, aims to speed up forest management projects on public and tribal lands by reducing regulatory and legal hurdles.

The proposed legislation comes at a time of increasingly devastating wildfires and has garnered wide support among Republicans and the timber industry.

However, the traditional Democratic coalition of environmental groups is split over the role humanity has to play in forest management. Some argue ecosystems are best protected when humans leave them alone — a view that dominated during the timber wars of the ’80s and ’90s. Others argue that humans have a responsibility to intervene — an increasingly popular idea as climate change threatens ecosystems around the world.

Among the major environmental groups that oppose the legislation are the Sierra Club and Center for Biological Diversity. They worry that limiting environmental review and litigation will allow timber companies to heavily log these areas instead of gently thinning them. Meanwhile, some Southern California groups worry the bill would allow well-meaning land managers to approve misguided projects that ultimately harm local shrublands, which have a very different relationship with fire than the bill’s namesake, forests.

“It’s really handing the keys to the Trump administration to be able to push forward a lot of their timber agenda,” said Anna Medema, deputy legislative director for forests and public lands at the Sierra Club.

But the Nature Conservancy and other groups have voiced support for the bill, citing the constant and imminent threat that increasingly severe wildfires pose to communities and ecosystems.

“We do advocacy at a twofold level. We are doing defensive work to fight back against bad things, and we’re also trying to promote the good things that are happening on the ground,” said Morgan Cashwell, North America director of legislative affairs for the Nature Conservancy. Right now, that good work needs to “meet the moment in the current wildfire crisis.”

That sentiment appears to have motivated Western lawmakers in particular.

In the House of Representatives, roughly half of the Democrats from Western states voted for the bill, compared to about a quarter of Democrats from elsewhere in the country. Republicans voted overwhelmingly in favor. The legislation is now awaiting a final vote in the Senate. Congress has until Jan. 3, 2027, to pass it.

“Wildfires today are very different than wildfires from a generation ago,” said Sen. Alex Padilla (D-Calif.), who co-introduced the Senate version of the bill. “Oftentimes, they’re irreversibly devastating ecosystems and watersheds.”

“So,” he said, “ the status quo is clearly not working.”

Rep. Bruce Westerman (R-Ark.), center, chairman of the House Committee on Natural Resources, delivers remarks at the Capitol in March 2023.

(J. Scott Applewhite / Associated Press)

The act was born when Rep. Bruce Westerman (R-Ark.), a former forester, stole a seat on a plane next to Rep. Scott Peters (D-San Diego). He used the opportunity to talk Peters’ ear off about a beloved species of tree that is under threat from worsening wildfires: the giant sequoia.

The two introduced a bill to protect them, called the Save Our Sequoias Act, and quickly saw an opportunity for something bigger.

“I knew right away that this could be a gateway to talking about permit reform,” Peters said. So, “we started working on a bigger, nationwide reform of forestry practices which have been really, really clogged up.”

While California grasslands, shrublands and woodlands are adapted to different frequencies and intensities of wildfire, research has found that high-severity fires — which kill the vast majority of trees in their path — are scorching 30 times more land area than in the 1980s.

The result: California is losing, on average, more than 200,000 acres of forest every year — or roughly 2.5% of all woodlands in the state every decade. U.S. Forest Service efforts to resuscitate these ecosystems have failed to keep pace. In recent years, the agency has reforested only about 1% of woodlands that are unlikely to recover on their own.

Californian supporters of the Fix Our Forests Act argue the problem has more to do with permitting delays than finances.

Marin County firefighters train during a prescribed burn in June in San Rafael.

(Heather Diehl / Getty Images)

Rep. George Whitesides (D-Santa Clarita), who co-sponsored the Fix Our Forests Act, pointed to nonpartisan research that found it takes the Forest Service more than five years on average to complete a full environmental review and begin work on forest thinning projects that use mechanical equipment like bulldozers and wood chippers. For prescribed burns, it takes more than seven years on average.

“That’s insane,” he said, that it “takes as long as a kid growing up to be a first grader to be able to move on this.”

The Fix Our Forests Act would exempt projects from the full permitting process if they were in areas with the most extreme fire risk and would expand existing exemptions for projects under 3,000 acres to cover projects up to 10,000 acres. It also would limit the window during which environmental groups can sue over project approvals.

These projects tend to employ a combination of harvesting timber and thinning smaller trees and plants with heavy machinery (often the favored tools of Republicans and the timber industry) and using prescribed fire to clear out the forest floor (often favored by environmental groups).

The “environmental left” has “made it endlessly time-consuming and ultimately cost prohibitive to maintain our forests, all with the promise that this would improve the forest environment,” said Rep. Tom McClintock (R-Elk Grove), a co-sponsor who authored some of the permitting exclusions. “Well, after 50 years, I think we’re entitled to ask, how’s the forest environment doing?”

In March 2025, President Trump issued an executive order that blamed “our inability to fully exploit our domestic timber supply” as a contributor to disastrous wildfires. In response, the U.S. Forest Service set a goal to increase the amount of timber open to logging by 25% nationwide over five years.

Scott Dane, executive director of the American Loggers Council, argued the nightmare scenarios of expansive clear-cutting from the timber wars are not on the table for America’s public lands.

“It’s a boogeyman position that they love to take from 100 years ago,” he said. “It’s not, in reality, in modern forest management at all.”

Watchdogs in Southern California have a different concern: While research shows forest thinning is an effective tool in overgrown Sierra Nevada woodlands, the state’s coastal shrublands are not denser than they historically have been. Consequently, the type of projects the Fix Our Forests Act would expedite are far more controversial and contested in shrublands. Local advocates fear the act would undermine their ability to push back on proposals with questionable scientific backing.

Goats and sheep graze on top of Kite Hill in May 2025 in Los Angeles for wildfire prevention.

(Juliana Yamada / Los Angeles Times)

In contrast to projects in conifer forests that aim to decrease the density of trees and vegetation across the landscape, shrubland projects are typically centered on creating a network of corridors hundreds of feet wide with no vegetation throughout the wildlands and clearing plants away from existing buildings.

While firefighters rely on these networks of fuel breaks to access the wildlands during fires and build containment lines, research has found that when firefighters cannot reach the fuel breaks — which is often the case during extreme winds — the lines only stop fires about 13% of the time. If they are not routinely maintained, they also risk supporting the growth of flammable invasive grasses.

In Los Padres National Forest, near Santa Barbara, officials proposed in 2022 creating roughly 187,000 acres of fuel breaks and structure defense zones. After organizations like Los Padres ForestWatch pushed back on the plan through the environmental review process, the national forest ultimately scaled the proposal down to about 22,000 acres this July.

“You had community input, and you had the federal government incorporating that input into a plan that is grossly improved,” said Benjamin Pitterle, director of advocacy and field operations at Los Padres ForestWatch. “It’s arguably a perfect example of how the process should work.”

California lawmakers have voted to shift a state forest system away from commercial logging and pave the way for tribal co-management, delivering a win to a movement rooted in the historic timber wars.

Managed by the California Department of Forestry and Fire Protection, or Cal Fire, the state’s 14 demonstration forests are currently required to produce and sell timber to show — or “demonstrate” — sustainable practices, while considering factors like recreation and wildlife.

AB 2494 eliminates what’s often cast as a logging mandate, instead prioritizing values such as carbon storage, wildfire resilience and biodiversity conservation. There could still be logging, but it would need to support those principles.

It also directs state officials to seek agreements with Native American tribes to integrate their traditional knowledge into managing the land. The bill now heads to Gov. Gavin Newsom’s desk.

“We don’t need more demonstrations of what clear cutting does to a forest — we have plenty of those,” said Assemblymember Chris Rogers (D-Santa Rosa), who authored the bill. If the forests are being used to show how to boost commercial logging gains, “then that is not how we want to use our public assets.”

At the center of the discussion is Jackson Demonstration State Forest, spanning nearly 50,000 acres in Mendocino County. For decades, loggers and environmentalists have clashed over the fate of its stately redwoods.

About five years ago, tensions reignited when community members caught wind of plans to cut towering trees near the coastal town of Caspar.

Tribes whose historic homelands fall within the forest became leading voices in the effort to halt logging, with the Coyote Valley Band of Pomo Indians’ Priscilla Hunter emerging as a major force. She has since passed away but her legacy looms large in the movement.

While running for his assembly seat representing the North Coast, Rogers heard from constituents and local politicians who wanted to see the forest run differently. The bill grew in part out of those discussions.

Polly Girvin, Hunter’s former partner and a retired lawyer focused on Native American issues, called AB 2494’s passage by the Legislature “nearly miraculous.”

“We’re at a time right now where scientists are going to have to reach across the table to the Indian voice,” she said. “They feel they have a sacred obligation to manage their forest, not for commercial logging per se. So I think it’s really a meeting of science and the sacred.”

Some backers say the bill offers a new economic path forward for communities behind the so-called redwood curtain. With the decline of logging and cannabis as livelihoods, they see income from tourists attracted by ultramarathons, mushroom foraging and other outdoor activities as a financial savior.

But the push to reshape forest management is fiercely opposed by loggers and mill owners, who say their work is sustainable and provides blue-collar jobs in a region where they’ve dwindled. Already California imports most of its wood from Oregon, Washington and Canada.

The Mendocino County Board of Supervisors has supported the bill, but it’s opposed by the Rural County Representatives of California, an advocacy group representing 40 counties.

Staci Heaton, senior policy advocate for the organization, said they’re concerned that the new management goals are so vague they would expose forest projects — including wildfire research — to costly lawsuits.

“We’ve experienced the majority of the largest wildfires across the state over the last decade, and it is paramount that research and forest management knowledge be fostered in these demonstration state forests so that it can be used statewide,” Heaton said.

Currently, money from logging — roughly $8.5 million a year — pays for management of the demonstration forests. Under the latest iteration of AB 2494, it will remain one source of funding but not the only one, Rogers said.

Cal Fire’s Kevin Conway believes that if the bill becomes law, it will, in practice, limit funding. So they’d likely look to bring in money by charging day-use and other new recreation fees.

Conway, who is the agency’s chief for resource protection and improvement, added that some aspects of their mission wouldn’t change; the land would remain “actively managed.” For instance, he called wood products “a big part of our climate strategy in the built environment” and suggested it would still be prudent to understand how they’re produced in California.

“We don’t think that just locking up your forest and making a tree museum longterm will deliver biodiversity, carbon, recreation — all these things,” he said. Cal Fire has not taken a position on the legislation.

Newsom has until Sept. 30 to sign or veto the bill.