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indigenous rights
Reject the Budget Bill That Sells off Alaska and Our Rights Along With It
Buried in Congress’ latest budget proposal is an unprecedented power grab that threatens both wild Alaska and the foundations of public oversight.
May 07, 2025
The House Natural Resources Committee majority just unveiled the worst piece of legislation for the environment in history—a bill that wouldn’t just sell off Alaska but that would threaten democracy and environmental protections across the country. The proposed “budget” reconciliation legislation is saturated with destructive provisions that would set our nation’s conservation legacy back for decades.
Don’t be distracted by the chaos. This “energy dominance” bill is not about good budgeting. It’s a clear handout to fossil fuel executives and a key part of President Donald Trump’s plan to sell off your public lands to wealthy oil, gas, and mining corporations for unchecked industrialization.
Starting with the threats to wild Alaska alone, you can find an unprecedented and sweeping giveaway of our nation’s lands and waters. Mandated industrialization, the override of environmental standards, cutting out the public—the text reads like something drafted in an oil tycoon’s boardroom.
This is not a budget. It’s a backroom deal for billionaires that steamrolls tribal rights, community voices, and our nation’s most iconic wild places.
First, the Arctic. Despite a well-documented history of failure, the bill would force the Department of the Interior to reinstate leases from a failed 2021 oil and gas lease sale in the pristine Arctic National Wildlife Refuge. That sale intended to pay for the last round of Trump billionaire tax cuts—a sale for which not one major oil company showed up to bid and less than 1% of projected revenues were collected. Taxpayers are still waiting for their money. Nevertheless, today’s bill would mandate four more lease sales in the refuge over the next decade, as well as lease sales in the Western Arctic every two years.
From there, the bill attempts to rewrite environmental law by declaring that rushed approvals are automatically in compliance with landmark statutes like the National Environmental Policy Act (NEPA), Endangered Species Act (ESA), Marine Mammal Protection Act (MMPA), and Alaska National Interest Lands Conservation Act (ANILCA).
That’s not laziness—it’s an attempted authoritarian overreach.
In practice, that could look like agencies having just 30 days to approve permits—like those deciding whether seismic blasting can legally harm or kill polar bears—with no public input and zero accountability.
Then comes the most egregious power grab: The bill attempts to strip away judicial review of government decisions in the Arctic Refuge. Only the State of Alaska or oil companies could sue. The Gwich’in people, who have stewarded this place as their cultural homeland since time immemorial? Silenced. The basic democratic rights of the American public? Quashed. The same gag order appears for the Western Arctic, attempting to halt litigation over the Willow project and prevent future legal challenges to drilling by Iocal Indigenous communities or others.
And the hits keep coming.
The bill would require another six offshore oil and gas lease sales over the next 10 years in the waters of Cook Inlet, each covering no less than a million acres. Once again: environmental review sidestepped, public legal challenges all but erased.
The bill would also amend ANILCA to mandate approval of the Ambler Road, a 211-mile industrial corridor that would cut through National Park and Bureau of Land Management lands, disrupt caribou migration, and threaten subsistence for Alaska Native communities. Just like with Arctic drilling, this provision lets corporations sue the government to fast-track approvals while denying that same legal access to impacted Indigenous communities and the public. This language should terrify anyone who cares about tribal sovereignty or public lands.
Also hidden within the bill is language that would increase national timber harvest by 25%, possibly including the old-growth forests of the Tongass National Forest in Southeast Alaska—some of the most carbon-rich and ecologically important temperate rainforests on the planet. And it would slash funding for federal land management, threatening the long-term care of public lands from Denali to the Everglades.
So, what do Americans get in return? Not much. These fossil fuel handouts won’t lower energy prices, fix the deficit, or benefit future generations. The last Arctic Refuge lease sale brought in pennies on the dollar and had no impact on gas prices or our dangerous dependence on oil. This bill won’t boost revenue; it just fast-tracks extraction while silencing oversight.
Here’s the truth: This is not a budget. It’s a backroom deal for billionaires that steamrolls tribal rights, community voices, and our nation’s most iconic wild places.
We need Congress to reject this toxic package. Because our public lands—and our democracy—aren’t up for sale.
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Greenland Will Never Be for Sale
My brief but deep immersion into Inughuit culture leaves me profoundly hopeful—believing that it will not come to pass that Trump’s rapacious nature shall determine the eventual fate of Greenland.
May 06, 2025
U.S. President Donald Trump, casting a covetous eye on Greenland, has my attention. I have a history in that place, so little known to Americans in general, having spent the entire year of 1964 at Thule Air Force Base, now Pitufik Space Station, 250 miles north of the Arctic Circle. The road I’ve traveled since has me deeply concerned about Trump in every respect—believing that everything he represents and wants is contrary to the best interests of our country, the world, and mankind altogether, excepting perhaps oligarchs.
At Thule I was responsible for overseeing the maintenance of our air-to-air missiles and for supervising the loading of those missiles on board our F-102 fighter jets in the event of declared hostilities with our great “bugaboo,” the Soviet Union.
Many years later, after volunteering for and spending a year in Vietnam, I became a full-fledged “peacenik,” an adjunct professor of peace studies at the University of Maine, angry and in despair about this country’s militarism and particularly agitated about our vast empire of military bases on foreign lands. My experiences in Greenland and Vietnam were surely foundational to my conversion. I had become well-aware of the wide-spread, anti-base movement and sympathetic with the neighbors of these bases who, so often, experienced profound environmental degradation, noise pollution, and violence.
Speaking of Trump and his eye on Greenland, the senior statesman Aqqaluk Lynge had this to say on “60 Minutes”: “He mentioned Greenland like it was a toy or something. It was ugly!”
The heartless displacement of the Inughuit people of Thule, done without forenotice to enable the construction of a military base in 1951, 13 years prior to my assignment there, offers a good case in point. The place they called Uummannaq had been their home for centuries, and was the sacred burial grounds of their ancestors. In May of 1953, 300 men, women, and children, having been given four days to vacate their modest sod homes, set off by dogsled for a place called Qaanaaq, 150 kilometers across the icecap. No promised houses awaited them, and they were forced to live through the cold, wet summer in the tents they’d been given. They were denied the right to return to or hunt in their ancestral homelands.
I’d also learned that in 1968, a B52 had crashed on the icecap while attempting to make an emergency landing at Thule, spreading radioactive debris across the land. Four nuclear weapons were on board; one, never to be recovered.
This history and my developing curiosity about the real stories behind our military empire inspired my quest to visit Qaanaaq, a trip I was able to realize in 2008. That journey, and the people I met, provide the basis for my perspectives on Trump’s covetous ambitions.
The Principals
Aqqaluk Lynge: Former member of the Greenland Parliament, former chair of the Inuit Circumpolar Council (1995-2002), member of the United Nations Permanent Forum on Indigenous Issues, honorary doctorate in humane letters—Dartmouth College (2012), and uthor ofThe Right to Return: 50 Years of Struggle by Relocated Inughuit in Greenland.
I had the good fortune to meet and to interview Mr Lynge, who at the time was a visiting scholar at Dartmouth College. He enabled my subsequent meetings with Qaanaaq people who had been among those evicted.
Uusaqqak Qujaukitsoq: Hunter, fisherman, and leader of the so-called Hingitaq 53, the group of nearly 500 Inughuits who launched legal proceedings against Denmark seeking their right to return. Uusaqqak had been a 12-year-old boy, living at Uummannaq, at the time of the eviction.
Tautianguaq Simigaq: Simigaq, a hunter, had been one of 13 Inuit who worked on the B52 crash site, 11 of whom had died by the time of my visit. He was among several hunters who reported seeing deformed walrus, seals, and foxes in the area of the crash in the years since.
It is no exaggeration that my visit with the people I met in Qaanaaq and Siorapaluk, the northernmost year-round inhabited settlement in Greenland, remain in my soul all these years later. Uusaqqak and his wife, Inger, invited me into their modest home and, though their English was limited, we spent many comfortable hours together, he sharing his life story to include the trauma of the dislocation, hunting and fishing, and education in Copenhagen. His travels had taken him far and wide. As a representative of the Inughuit people he had proudly once met Nelson Mandela. Their 30-year-old son, Magssanguaq, a virtual renaissance man, spoke English and Danish, and was a teacher, a musician, a poet, and an accomplished photographer. He had a keen sense of the injustices his people had suffered as victims of colonialism and would become my interpreter and guide.
Mags and I devoted much of our time in Qaanaaq to visiting and interviewing elders who had been victims of the displacement. Those sessions were, without exception, emotional in the telling and the listening.
My immersion into Inughuit culture, a deep one during my brief visit, but a lasting one of reflection, leaves me profoundly hopeful—believing that it will not come to pass that Trump’s rapacious nature shall determine the eventual fate of Greenland. I was made mindful of Syracuse University Scholar Philip Arnold’s The Urgency of Indigenous Values, in which he argues that the very future of the world is dependent upon the ascendency of “green values” of Indigenous populations everywhere, as opposed to the “raider” values of our dominant culture. The history of the Inughuits who had lived on their sacred lands at Uummannaq for centuries is known by all Greenlanders, 89% of whom are of Inuit descent. I would assert that Trump represents, even personifies, “raider” values, and is seen that way by a large majority of all people of Greenland.
I have recently read that Trump is bringing Columbus Day “back from the ashes.” Hmmm! How might that play with Indigenous people?
Speaking of Trump and his eye on Greenland, the senior statesman Aqqaluk Lynge had this to say on “60 Minutes”: “He mentioned Greenland like it was a toy or something. It was ugly!”
Watch it. They’re not words of casual sentiment.
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Trump's Rogue Deep-Sea Mining Order Endangers Our Ocean and Our Future
We must defend international law. We must defend the oceans. And we must reject a broken economic model that gambles our planet's future for corporate gain.
May 01, 2025
On April 24, U.S. President Donald Trump signed an executive order to fast-track deep-sea mining in U.S. and international waters that sidelines international law and puts fragile ocean ecosystems, Indigenous rights, and millions of lives that depend on a healthy ocean at risk.
While this is being sold to the American public as a bold move to secure America's mineral supply chain, address climate change, or boost the clean energy transition, science and the tech and auto industries have already debunked that ruse. In the current climate, it will surprise very few that this is instead another giveaway to well-heeled corporate interests that will gamble away the health of our oceans and future for the short-term profit of a few corporations.
Once destroyed, deep-sea ecosystems are likely gone forever, taking with them species and processes vital to planetary health.
The Broligarchy is not just burning fossil fuels and sending rockets into space or dismantling American institutions. They are also gearing up to mine the depths of our last great wilderness in the deep sea. And as we've seen, they won't let details like the well-founded concerns about the cost to people, the climate, or our shared future get in their way.
Breaking the Rules of the Global Commons
For decades, the international community has worked through the United Nation's International Seabed Authority (ISA) to regulate whether and how deep-sea mining might proceed, recognizing the deep sea as the "common heritage of humankind," not a resource to be plundered by any one country or corporation.
Trump's executive order tramples that principle of shared stewardship, reviving a Cold War-era U.S. law that bypasses the U.N. framework and green-lights corporate plunder of the seafloor. This reckless move undermines global legal norms, threatens to unravel international cooperation, and could trigger an unregulated race for the ocean's resources at a time when stronger protections are most needed. As ISA Secretary General Leticia Carvalho warns, dismantling multilateral ocean governance threatens the very foundations of global cooperation, setting a dangerous precedent for the future of all shared global commons.
A Business Model Built on Sand
The economic case for deep-sea mining is collapsing. There is no current shortage of minerals like cobalt or nickel, and advances in battery chemistry, recycling, circular economy models, and alternative materials are rapidly reducing projected future demands for deep-sea minerals. Even if mining started today, it would likely take more than a decade for the industry to bring deep-sea minerals to market at scale.
Early ventures like Nautilus Minerals and Loke Marine Minerals have already failed, exposing the financial risks. On Tuesday, The Metals Company (TMC) upped the ante on its risky bet to fast-track deep-sea mining when it submitted its application under the U.S. Seabed Mining Code to begin commercial mining in areas licensed by the International Seabed Authority. For the president, with his track record on casinos, backing a company like TMC is a gamble whose cost will be borne by coastal communities, Indigenous rights, and investors alike.
Americans already face $150 billion annually in costs from climate change. And our children and grandchildren born in 2024 may have to bear the weight of $500,000 over their lifetime. We can't afford to absorb the cost of another failed venture while the billionaire class does not even pay their fair share of taxes and does little to fix the problems their corporations have created.
A New Colonialism in the Pacific
Perhaps most shamefully, Trump's executive order green-lights a new wave of colonialism, opening the deep sea of Pacific waters to corporate plunder without the consent of Pacific Peoples—communities whose lives, cultures, and economies are deeply intertwined with the ocean.
Trump's executive order shows exactly why the world needs a strong, binding global moratorium on deep-sea mining.
The Pacific has already spoken: American Samoa, Hawai'i, and several Pacific Island nations have called for moratoriums to protect their fisheries and heritage. Indigenous leaders have made it clear—the deep sea is not a sacrifice zone. Yet TMC, which leveraged its partnership with Nauru to fast-track negotiations at the ISA, is now looking to shift its strategy and cut deals under U.S. law, sidelining Pacific voices.
By moving to open adjacent U.S. federal waters for mining, without meaningful consultation, the United States perpetuates a familiar and painful pattern of resource extraction without consent. We cannot allow history to repeat itself in the deep sea.
No Science. No Safeguards. No Justification.
Despite industry assurances, we still know remarkably little about the deep ocean. In mining target zones such as the Clarion-Clipperton Zone, over 90% of species have yet to be formally described by science, and essential life-sustaining ecosystem functions like carbon sequestration and nutrient cycling are barely understood.
There is no credible scientific evidence demonstrating that deep-sea mining can be conducted without causing irreversible harm, nor any proven way to prevent, mitigate, or repair it. Once destroyed, deep-sea ecosystems are likely gone forever, taking with them species and processes vital to planetary health.
This week's congressional hearing on deep-sea mining underscores the urgent need for democratic oversight of an industry advancing without sufficient scientific, legal, or public scrutiny. Congress must act to protect the public interest, not hand over our oceans to private companies chasing speculative profits.
The Path Forward: A Global Moratorium
With a dearth of independent science, no enforceable global safeguards, and no justification, deep-sea mining isn't just risky--it's reckless.
Trump's executive order shows exactly why the world needs a strong, binding global moratorium on deep-sea mining.
We must defend international law. We must defend the oceans. And we must reject a broken economic model that gambles our planet's future for corporate gain.
The deep sea belongs to all of us, and we have a duty to protect it, not destroy it. The future of the oceans—and the future stability of global commons governance—demands nothing less.
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