For several years I served on the board of a rural school district, and every year, when our draft budget was presented at our monthly public meeting, the audience would fill with people concerned about higher taxes. Seniors on fixed incomes spoke about the precarity of their budgets, while people of significantly greater means railed against “irresponsible” spending. As a board, we were trying to keep class sizes small enough for good learning outcomes and to avoid having to cut art and music and Spanish classes. I typically let the more senior board members handle the tough questions, but one year, as a young mom, I felt compelled to speak on behalf of the intergenerational social contract: the idea that when we were in school, we benefited from the investment of the generations before us, and it is therefore our moral obligation as adults today to invest in schools for the generations coming after us.
The intergenerational social contract is an old idea, far older than the U.S. government, Social Security and Medicare. It is not about entitlement. It’s about intergenerational caretaking — the recognition that there are no isolated moments of history, that we are obliged to pass on a world of hope and possibility to future generations. Indigenous communities have always understood this, which is why traditional ecological knowledge is increasingly being looked to for ways of managing the land for long-term health and sustainability. It’s a line of thinking that respects, and assumes a responsibility to, future inhabitants of Earth.
The intergenerational social contract also applies to public lands. Land-management agencies in the U.S., including the Bureau of Land Management, Department of the Interior and the Forest Service, have a legal responsibility to manage lands and resources with the future in mind. The words “to the benefit of present and future generations” are all over the charters and laws governing these agencies. Current proposals to sell off public land are not only a blatant violation of the social contract, but a violation of the very idea of public land. Transferring a public good into private hands is a crime against future generations.
The reckless actions of the Department of Government Efficiency (DOGE), as charted by Jonathan Thompson in this issue, are another blatant assault on the public good, slashing budgets for public land and firing its caretakers. Cutting funds for cancer and climate research is an assault on present and future generations, as is defanging the Endangered Species Act and the National Environmental Policy Act. This activity should be considered un-American: enriching the wealthiest while stealing from the everyday Americans of today, tomorrow and as long as our republic shall stand.
We welcome reader letters. Email High Country News at editor@hcn.org or submit a letter to the editor. See our letters to the editor policy.
Republish our articles for free, online or in print, under a Creative Commons license.
