Driving to St. Cloud on the outmoded and dangerous State Highway 23 to attend the DNR Roundtable, I mused how it was unlikely that anything of consequence would occur at the annual event. All aspects of Minnesota¹s infrastructure and services are in a long-term decline that has accelerated in recent years like a toboggan plummeting down an ever-steeper hill. Two days of ³citizen input² was unlikely to bring trigger significant change.
Driving to St. Cloud on the outmoded and dangerous State Highway 23 to attend the DNR Roundtable, I mused how it was unlikely that anything of consequence would occur at the annual event. All aspects of Minnesota¹s infrastructure and services are in a long-term decline that has accelerated in recent years like a toboggan plummeting down an ever-steeper hill. Two days of ³citizen input² was unlikely to bring trigger significant change.
Still, I was interested to hear about ³bioenergy,² the top topic of the Roundtable, and specifically why it was so important that hunters and anglers from across the state should spend two days learning more about it. Later that day, after sitting through four hours of mind-numbing Power Point presentations by environmental eggheads, I asked that very question of a panel of presenters. Neither I nor anyone else who I spoke with in the audience was satisfied with their ambiguous answers.
In short, ³bioenergy² refers to everything from corn-based ethanol production and using wood waste to power paper mills (already happening) to pie-in-the-sky plans to make gas from prairie grass. Since future bioenergy demands have the potential to hammer our already overtaxed natural resources to oblivion, the DNR believes it needs to be engaged in the bioenergy game. Maybe so, but Roundtable attendees could have learned all they needed to know about bioenergy in one 20-minute presentation.
At any rate, the 2008 Roundtable was the most top-down and off-the-mark event this reporter has attended in a long, long time. When you go to church, you know part of the service will be devoted to a sermon. Roundtables are no different you expect sermons from the DNR commissioner, bureaucrats, and politicians. But the grist of the event ought to be a give-and-take between the government and its constituents regarding hunting, fishing, and conservation issues.
It wasn¹t. In nearly all sessions, attendees watched Power Point presentations, had a brief opportunity to ask questions, and then were told to write their comments or concerns on paper. This approach avoids those uncomfortable moments when the unwashed masses challenge authority or express passionate opinions. It also ensures that nothing new or noteworthy emerges from the Roundtable. Some attendees expressed dismay the public wasn¹t included in the agenda planning, which typically happened at past Roundtables. I suspect the omission of citizen input wasn¹t an accident.
While the Roundtable agenda was obscured in egghead ether, fortunately Mark Holsten is an especially gregarious DNR commissioner. This guy is not only approachable, he¹s also likely to come up and strike up a conversation with you. No doubt he heard an earful about real issues from attendees during the Roundtable and after hours. Of course, it is one thing to listen to folks and quite another to act on their concerns and suggestions, but I¹m willing to give him the benefit of the doubt.
While some may argue the annual Roundtable, initially focused on fishing, became diluted when Wildlife and Eco-Services were added to the mix, a greater concern to me is nearly all presentations are focused on what matters to the St. Paul bureaucracy. If you came to the Roundtable from Crookston, Winona, or Eveleth, you found very little that was of relevance to you or the place where you live. I heard several folks complaining there was nothing on the agenda about groundwater contamination from ethanol plants, the rapid decline of the northeast moose herd, or similar topics of great importance to Minnesotans who live outside the metro region. In fact, someone mentioned this St. Paul myopia is exactly why state politicians and bureaucrats can¹t be trusted to make wise decisions about spending dedicated conservation funding if and when that ship comes in.
For me, the Roundtable came to an abrupt end not long before the fat lady (in this case, state legislators) got up to sing. Someone started yet another Power Point presentation about a ³state conservation plan² with a graphic that looked like a flashback from a bureaucratic acid trip. By that time, I¹d had my fill of Power Point presentations. And after many years of reporting and participating in state conservation, I am sick and tired of plans. We don¹t need any more plans. We need ACTION. I stepped out and didn¹t look back.
Others have opined on hunting and fishing topics the Roundtable could have addressed. They are correct in doing so. But the malaise crippling the Roundtable has deeper roots. Our public servants who put on the Roundtable have forgotten they work for We the People. That¹s why we get endless sermons and Power Point gobbledy-gook rather than a weekend in St. Cloud where citizens have a real chance to be heard and contribute to a positive future for hunting, fishing, and conservation. The Roundtable has instead morphed into an annual dog-and-pony show for a self-absorbed state bureaucracy and a Legislature mired in mediocrity.
Please, DNR, at the 2009 Roundtable smash the laptops and muzzle the eggheads. Step up, show some courage, and engage in a real conversation with citizens who attend the event. Not only do we pay your wages, but we also expect you to earn them. Boring the hell out of us with two days of Power Point charts, graphics, and bullet-points doesn¹t cut the mustard. Stop wasting our time and make the Roundtable worth our while to attend.