15 minute read

From Skeptic to Advocate

My Changed Perspective on Conservation Easements

Article by DAVID K. LANGFORD

Writer’s Note: The following is excerpted from the preface of the forthcoming book Replenishing Our Hills by Brent Evans. The book will be published soon by the Texas A&M University Press.

The Texas Hill Country has left its mark on me and me on it for almost eight decades. My Giles family staked its claim here in 1887. Our ranch, where my grandchildren are part of the sixth generation born to this land, still bears the name of my ancestral home, which is Hillingdon Middlesex England.

I was reared in San Antonio, but spent many of my weekends, most of my holidays and every summer into adulthood on much of the 13,000 or so acres that make up Hillingdon Ranch. While I eagerly anticipated these days in the country, they were not vacations. As a member of a ranching family, we were all expected to do our parts.

One of my earliest jobs centered on the water bucket and dipper my grandparents kept on their kitchen table. In those days, providing water for the family required a trip to a nearby spring with bucket in hand.

Carrying that heavy, water-filled bucket over uneven ground taught me lessons of conservation that I’ve never forgotten. Water is vital to life. Abundant water appears through someone’s work, not magic. Water is too valuable to waste.

An uncle demonstrated to us all that wildlife like native white-tailed deer have a place on a ranch as surely as cattle, sheep and goats. Each successive generation has managed Hillingdon’s native grass, forbs, browse and trees so both wild animals and domestic livestock thrive.

The convergence of time, experience and opportunities allowed me to carve out a career as a professional photographer who specialized in livestock, wildlife, ranch landscapes and the western lifestyle. In 1985, the relationships with my clients that I forged and treasured earned me an invitation to an early organizational meeting of the Texas Wildlife Association, a group that was being put together as a voice for landowners with an interest in wildlife. I left the meeting as a member of the executive committee.

Four years later, I left an executive committee meeting with a temporary job serving as Executive Vice President; it lasted 11 years in its first act. I flunked retirement in 2001 and came back for a second act overseeing water policy development and other special projects. My second act lasted eight years.

In 2011, I turned in my business cards, retired for the final time and came back to where I started as a volunteer again serving on the executive committee. My volunteer service continues today.

As TWA’s Executive Vice President, I spent a lot of time in the public policy arena, especially in Austin. In those days, I spent a lot of time standing behind microphones in countless conference rooms in front of a mixed bag of legislators, agency personnel, traditional environmental groups, lobbyists and the general public.

As the 80s bled into the 1990s, Texas, especially its private lands, became a contentious arena. Two little-known bird species, Golden-cheeked Warblers and Black-capped Vireos that nest solely in the cedar-spotted hills of Central Texas and the Edwards Plateau, found themselves in the headlines. The U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service under the auspices of the Endangered Species Act devised a plan to designate portions of 33 Texas counties as critical habitat for the songbirds.

At that time, it appeared as if a “coalition” of environmental groups and land trusts were going to “save” the birds by permanently wrestling control away from private landowners either by taking it or purchasing it at fire sale prices from landowners who found themselves in a financial fix. The tool of choice? A conservation easement. The goal? To manage natural resources by removing virtually all human activity.

The reaction—and rhetoric—was swift and heated. Across the state at microphones in hearing rooms and in reporters’ hands, I and others with like minds decried conservation easements as plots promulgated by landgrabbing Communists.

Against this backdrop, Blair Calvert Fitzsimons, a volunteer landowner advocate who ranched in South Texas with her husband Joseph, and I were invited to a meeting hosted by Texas Parks and Wildlife. As private property proponents, we were in the minority. Most of the invitees represented land trusts, traditional environmental groups and parks at the national, state and local levels.

As the day progressed, speaker after speaker identified the problems that estate taxes created for landowners. Because of their experience and focus, these speakers wore blinders. While they were able to see and showcase the solutions offered by conservation easements and land trusts, the speakers only saw the application for landowners managing beautifully pristine properties. Most were committed to preserving properties with magazine cover views.

These well-meaning crusaders didn’t understand that farmers, ranchers and family foresters, the people who fed, clothed and sheltered us, faced the same pressures from estate taxes and market forces. In their zeal for pretty places, they didn’t give working lands much thought. Apparently, those of us in production agriculture had managed to hide our challenges as effectively as we’d hidden our conservation.

As these discussions were taking place, the economy of Texas was changing. Through much of the 20th Century, Texas got its wealth from the ground through oil and agriculture. In the late 80s, after one of the periodic busts that marked the energy industry, state leaders decided to add another leg to the economic stool. They made it clear that Texas was open for business, especially technology. The Lone Star State entered a period of unprecedented growth.

Growth, as we came to learn from studies conducted by the American Farmland Trust between 1990 and 2000, comes with a hidden cost. Initially, leaders in rural counties were ecstatic as developments sprang up, but the jubilation was short-lived. Why? While new residents bring new tax dollars, they also require increased services, which cost money…big money.

According to the American Farmland Trust’s Cost of Community Services surveys, the cost of providing those public services far exceeds the amount of tax revenue provided by residential taxpayers. On the other hand, agricultural and open space land, even with lower tax valuations generate more tax money than they require in public service costs.

This was an important realization for those who valued open spaces. We spent a lot of windshield time contemplating this and tucked it into our hip pockets for future use.

Fast forward to 2005 when Blair asked me to attend a Partnership of Rangeland Trusts meeting in Billings, Montana. I went because I respect Blair and I like Billings. I still wasn’t particularly fond of land trusts or conservation easements.

As I sat there, though, I quickly figured out these land trust cats understood agriculture from a first-hand perspective.

A Q&A WITH TALT CEO CHAD ELLIS

TWA: For people who may not be familiar with TALT, describe your land trust and its goals.

CE: TALT is a land trust founded by three major associations across Texas: the Texas Farm Bureau, the Texas and Southwestern Cattle Raisers Association, and, of course, the Texas Wildlife Association. As an organization, our land goals are simple: we focus on keeping working lands in Texas working and in the process conserve agriculture, natural resources and wildlife habitat.

TWA: What sets TALT apart from other land trusts in Texas?

CE: We’re the only land trust in Texas that is solely focused on agriculture. We concentrate on partnering with producers, whether they’re ranchers, farmers, foresters or wildlife managers, and help empower them to keep their land working—and productive in perpetuity.

TWA: In its 10-year history, what has TALT accomplished and what is its next steps?

CE: As of today, TALT holds 30 easements, which conserve 236,000 acres across Texas. In the first decade, conservation easements have been our primary tools for keeping land working, but now we’re developing other tools such as free markets for ecosystem services that can help landowners diversify and keep their operations financially sustainable.

TWA: What is happening in Texas— and across the nation—that makes conservation easements and land trusts important conservation tools?

CE: Just look at Texas. We lost 2.2 million acres of working land between 1997 and 2017; we lost 1.5 million of those acres in the last five years. Texas has the unfortunate distinction of losing more working land than any other state in the nation.

Lay that on top of the state’s growth. Our population increased 48 percent in the same time period. Our current population is 25 million. At the moment, about 1,300 people are moving to Texas every day. The divide between urban and rural Texas is getting wider and deeper.

Ironically, the population growth that is driving much of the land fragmentation is also increasing the demand for natural resources such as clean water and air that come from working lands. We’ve got to come up with practical solutions that keep working lands working so they can continue to produce both food and fiber as well as critical ecosystem services.

TWA: What is the value of TALT to landowners?

CE: TALT is a trusted partner—in perpetuity. Forever is a long time.

As a landowner who is committing to a conservation easement, it is important to have a partner who understands agriculture and working lands and is aligned with your goals. The boots of our board and staff members are grounded in land and ag, so we don’t lose sight of the landowner perspective.

TWA: What is the value of TALT to all Texans?

CE: Working lands provide immense value to everyone in our state. Agriculture alone brought in $23 billion in cash receipts and an estimated $135.5 billion to the food and fiber sector during 2018. Taxes generated from agricultural inputs and land fund critical infrastructure and other government services that benefit the entire Lone Star State.

We also must look beyond the number of acres conserved. Currently, TALT holds easements covering 236,000 acres, but thanks to that land, Texas has netted 180,000-acre feet of water. That’s enough

water to supply the city of San Antonio for 200 years.

Our value as an organization, like the value of the state’s land stewards, extends far beyond the fencelines.

TWA: What is the difference between a donated conservation easement and the purchase of development rights?

CE: In a donated conservation easement, the landowner donates the value of the land’s development rights in exchange for federal tax benefits. When development rights are purchased, the landowner receives a payment for the full or partial value of the development rights as well as federal tax benefits. Both are real estate transactions that will exist in perpetuity and both can be customized to meet the landowners’ needs.

TWA: In Texas, what resources are available to fund purchase of development rights?

CE: Currently, there are two sources of funding to purchase development rights: The Texas Farm and Ranch Lands Conservation Program, a state program administered by the Texas Parks and Wildlife Department and the Agricultural Conservation Easement Program, a federal program administered by the USDA’s Natural Resources Conservation Service.

TWA: In addition to conservation easements, what other solutions is TALT exploring to help support conservation of open space land?

CE: While conservation easements are valuable conservation tools, they don’t fit every situation. We need other solutions to conserve all the land that needs conserving, which is why it is so important that we identify and develop other income streams that allow landowners to keep their working lands intact. Developing markets for ecosystem services such as water, biodiversity and carbon sequestration makes the public that benefits from these resources partners in the progress.

Aldo Leopold identified the potential of these solutions when he wrote, “Conservation will ultimately boil down to rewarding the private landowner who conserves the public interest.”

TWA: Why is TALT an appropriate organization to facilitate these markets?

CE: TALT is a leading advocate for conservation and landowners. We are often invited to speak with nonprofits, foundations and top decision makers in Austin who want to understand the value of working lands. As advocates, we have the ability to help bridge the gap between landowners and the agricultural goods and ecosystem services they provide and the “consumers” who depend on these goods and services and seek to support working lands.

TWA: As the state legislature convenes and Congress goes back into session, how can people help raise the profile of this issue?

CE: The dialogue between landowners and state and federal official boils down to the benefits that extend beyond the fencelines: plentiful, high-quality water, clean air, carbon sequestration, biodiversity, wildlife habitat and scenic vistas that define our country from “sea to shining sea.” The public benefits from private land stewardship, and yet land stewards bear the full burden of responsibility and cost of providing society’s very lifeblood. It is important that we continue to provide tools to support landowners and keep working lands working.

TWA: Why is conserving open space working lands important to all Texans?

CE: Working lands produce our environmental and economic lifeblood. Without working lands, there is no food, no fiber, no water, no air—no sustainable life. It’s not hyperbole. It’s fact.

Tellingly, at least for me, production agriculture groups in these western states, where private land butts up against public land, were forming land trusts to conserve their land, their legacy and their way of life.

By the time the folks from the Colorado Cattlemen projected their guiding principles on the big screen, the tectonic plates of my paradigm had shifted. I looked at Blair. She looked at me. We both realized that we’d been angry about the wrong thing. The problem wasn’t the conservation easements, but our perception of how they were being used.

As we came to see, a conservation easement is a tool like any other, so the way it’s used determines whether it’s detrimental or beneficial. Thanks to those westerners, we both flew back to Texas, which by this time was losing open space agricultural land faster than any other state in the nation, thinking, “This just might work here after all.”

Soon after we got home, we got together with representatives from the Texas Farm Bureau and the Texas & Southwestern Cattle Raisers Association to talk about the possibility of forming an agricultural land trust in Texas. We agreed that forming an agricultural land trust would help give farmers, ranchers and family foresters access to the tools necessary to combat estate taxes and keep their working lands intact in perpetuity.

While many farms, ranches and forests may not have jaw-dropping views, they have productivity, both tangible as food, fiber and shelter, and environmental as clean water and clean air. Productivity merits its own conservation value as does the lifestyle and livelihoods built on it.

In 2007, the Texas Agricultural Land Trust was born from our collective efforts. During its first decade, TALT became the second largest land trust in Texas and currently oversees easements on 236,000 acres of working lands across Texas with more in the works.

This land will continue to produce food, fiber and shelter along with a myriad of other benefits such as cleaner air, better quality water, more vibrant river flows, aquifer recharge, the aesthetics of scenic open spaces, and wildlife and pollinator habitat that benefit every Texan in perpetuity. These landowning families will continue to voluntarily steward their own land, footing the bill for its care while paying their taxes and contributing to the health and growth of their local communities.

At the moment, a conservation easement is the only tool available for landowners who want to keep their working lands open forever. This legal document, which requires much thought, commitment and planning, provides a reinforced, retaining wall around a family’s land legacy. Succeeding generations can’t convene at the courthouse to squabble over the land’s destiny and dismantle their heritage a lawsuit at a time. A conservation easement is legally unassailable.

In addition to keeping the land legacy intact, a conservation easement ensures that the best interest of the land is always an essential factor regardless of what is being discussed or what is being considered. When a conservation easement is present, the land has a seat at the table— forever. I would argue that of all the longterm benefits of this conservation tool, this is the most powerful and most lasting.

As I write this, Myrna, our children, and I have finalized a conservation easement that will keep the Laurels Ranch, our piece of Hillingdon Ranch, open and development-free forever. We have poured ourselves into this process for almost four years; it is exceptionally challenging—and taxing—to predict what will be right forever.

The Texas Agricultural Land Trust is our partner in perpetual conservation. The organization’s guiding principles align with our family’s guiding principles. Ours is a partnership, like all good partnerships, where both sides win. A conservation easement held by TALT is a voluntary solution that works for us.

I’ve unashamedly come full circle. Today, I find myself extolling the benefits of conservation easements to my extended family. As preceding generations died land ownership was spread into more hands. Hillingdon is collectively owned by more than 20 family units with some controlling a few acres and others several hundred.

Until now, the family has relied on shared memories and common experiences to keep the ranch intact. The last generation to spend summers here is silver-haired now. Succeeding generations are scattered by geography and interests. Without a series of conservation easements, there is no guarantee that the legacy that is Hillingdon Ranch will pass to the seventh generation. I hope the Laurels Ranch conservation easement will serve as template for my extended family and make the monumental task of keeping Hillingdon Ranch intact a little easier.

While our story and struggle are personal, we’re not alone. Conservation easements preserve our past, but they also assure our future. We cannot live without the land and its natural bounty— and we shouldn’t be foolish enough to try. Conservation easements, which preserve open space land and voluntary stewardship by committed landowners forever, are the key to replenishing our beloved hills, our beloved plains and our beloved rivers, lakes and streams, day after day, year after year, generation after generation.