Thoughts on Land, Part 1
Since my trip to Appalachia, I've continued to grapple with the concept of land ownership. As usual, I am still trying to find a coherent way of thinking about it. In the meantime, my son has been meandering around the house singing (with gusto) "This Land is Your Land," courtesy of his kindergarten choir. So here are some preliminary thoughts.
As noted in an earlier post, this thinking began when Bishop Dunkin of the Western Maryland-West Virginia Synod informed me and my colleagues in Church and Society that coal companies owned the land under his house. In short, if a natural resource was found under his house that a company wanted to acquire, they hold the rights, and he would be forced to move. This is the case for 75% of the land in West Virginia. This felt somehow intuitively wrong.
We also heard the testimonies of two women who were suffering from the effects of land degradation. The biggest issue was water contamination. They were asked by one of my colleagues why they did not simply up and leave. The response was something along the lines of, "My family has lived on this land for 250 years. This is my land. The coal companies should be the ones going." (While I could sympathize to a certain degree, I also wondered to myself, What about the Native Americans before her? What about the flora and fauna before all of us? Can we really lay claim to something that existed long before us and will continue to exist long after we are gone?)
The director of the Washington advocacy office, Drew Genszler, brought the Israel-Palestine issue into this discussion of land ownership. A key component (perhaps the key component) in that conflict is defining who has the rights to the land. How many other violent conflicts around the world have rights to the land at the center?
These three stories of land ownership highlight for me some of the tensions inherent in our current conceptualization of land ownership. The two big problems for me are 1) The abuses (both to each other and to the earth) that can be justified because of a sense of ownership and 2) The conflicts that inevitably follow a claim to the land.
All of this said, some good can come from a clear definition of who has rights to the land. First, it strikes me as somehow fundamental to our sense of wellbeing to have a "place." Perhaps it is learned, but the idea that coal companies could kick people out of their houses and off the land on a whim just doesn't feel right. Second, in the current system, land and property rights make development possible. If someone knows that they own the land, they will make personal investments, knowing that they will be able to reap the benefits. Likewise, outsiders will be more likely to make investments, trusting that the owner of the land will be able to make good on his or (much less often) her promises, and if not, the bank or the lender will receive the collateral.
In this post that is already too long I've painted a picture in pretty broad strokes. I will follow up later this week with some theological musings on the topic. In the meantime I welcome your feedback and insight on the question.
David Creech
As noted in an earlier post, this thinking began when Bishop Dunkin of the Western Maryland-West Virginia Synod informed me and my colleagues in Church and Society that coal companies owned the land under his house. In short, if a natural resource was found under his house that a company wanted to acquire, they hold the rights, and he would be forced to move. This is the case for 75% of the land in West Virginia. This felt somehow intuitively wrong.
We also heard the testimonies of two women who were suffering from the effects of land degradation. The biggest issue was water contamination. They were asked by one of my colleagues why they did not simply up and leave. The response was something along the lines of, "My family has lived on this land for 250 years. This is my land. The coal companies should be the ones going." (While I could sympathize to a certain degree, I also wondered to myself, What about the Native Americans before her? What about the flora and fauna before all of us? Can we really lay claim to something that existed long before us and will continue to exist long after we are gone?)
The director of the Washington advocacy office, Drew Genszler, brought the Israel-Palestine issue into this discussion of land ownership. A key component (perhaps the key component) in that conflict is defining who has the rights to the land. How many other violent conflicts around the world have rights to the land at the center?
These three stories of land ownership highlight for me some of the tensions inherent in our current conceptualization of land ownership. The two big problems for me are 1) The abuses (both to each other and to the earth) that can be justified because of a sense of ownership and 2) The conflicts that inevitably follow a claim to the land.
All of this said, some good can come from a clear definition of who has rights to the land. First, it strikes me as somehow fundamental to our sense of wellbeing to have a "place." Perhaps it is learned, but the idea that coal companies could kick people out of their houses and off the land on a whim just doesn't feel right. Second, in the current system, land and property rights make development possible. If someone knows that they own the land, they will make personal investments, knowing that they will be able to reap the benefits. Likewise, outsiders will be more likely to make investments, trusting that the owner of the land will be able to make good on his or (much less often) her promises, and if not, the bank or the lender will receive the collateral.
In this post that is already too long I've painted a picture in pretty broad strokes. I will follow up later this week with some theological musings on the topic. In the meantime I welcome your feedback and insight on the question.
David Creech
Labels: environment, Holy Land, land
posted by David Creech |
1 Comments:
Hi David,
The concept of a split estate has been around for a long time. Much of American law concerning the split estate developed in Montana in the late 1800's during what is known as the war of the Copper Kings. This is where Anaconda Copper began.
One of the mining companies would dig down vertically and then at depth, dig horizontally, presumptively following a vein of ore. Because the surface of the land above where they were digging belonged to another mining company, it resulted in a series of law suits over the issue of who owned the vein of ore when it crossed under surface property lines etc.
The nationally upheld ruling resulted in the concept of the split estate. Surface rights and mineral (subsurface) rights are recognized as separate real estates. This has become a highly specialized practice of law. The mineral rights may be bought and sold without regard to the surface owner. This creates another set of issues around access to subsurface property.
In addition, water rights are another completely separate issue and are mostly independent of surface and mineral rights. At one time, I was looking at a small acreage at the junction of Stickney Creek and the Missouri River for a self-sufficient and sustainable farm. I wasn't able to get the water rights (to irrigate) from either source so I passed. Water rights is another highly specialized area of law.
Montana has been facing the issue of Coal Bed Methane drilling for another of years. This can be a disaster of apocalyptic proportion. Fresh water is pumped into the ground to force the methane to the surface. The water as it comes back to the surface is highly saline - to the point that it kills alfalfa, and later almost all vegetation. It pollutes the streams killing fish etc.
Because water is mobile, and a shared resource through the water cycle (natural recycling), what one owner does to water on his own property may affect many people as well as, in our rural situation, a regional economy.
(The technology exists to remove the salt from captive water. The energy companies complain that they cannot afford to remove the salt from the water. The life expectancy of a well is 7 years and the well pays for itself in the first 6 months.)
Huge grassroots advocacy efforts have resulted in some compromise solutions for us.
So, that's a bit of a simplified version of the issues of the split estate that you observed in West Virginia. The same issues are played out daily in many ways, in rural America and are usually invisible to the vast majority of us who live in cities. The same types of issues become more complex, with more severe consequences in the third world.
Mark
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