Op-Ed: Real Leaders Must Walk the Walk

Every candidate makes public-lands promises, but real leadership is what they do next.

I’ve spent most of my life avoiding politics. I’d rather disappear into Montana’s wildest places—that’s why I became a wildlife filmmaker—but I can’t stay on the sidelines anymore.

Like most Montanans, I believe in common-sense stewardship. I believe in responsible public land management grounded in access and long-term thinking—approaches that strengthen our towns and families—and common-sense policies to secure a good future for us all.

I believe public lands should stay in public hands, and I believe our leaders should be honest with us about their priorities.

That’s not what I’m seeing.

Instead, I see a willingness to promise voters one thing while doing another. It’s a pattern that shows up over and over in Montana politics, especially regarding public lands: Candidates say what they think voters want to hear about protecting access, clean air and water, and habitat. Then the election ends, and their actions tell a different story.

Public lands belong to me, like they belong to everybody —rich or poor, no matter where you come from.

They support policies that give billionaires more influence over public lands management, push cuts to the Forest Service and National Park Service, defund programs that support healthy forests and keep our communities safe, and back policies and decisions that shut the public out. They vote for agency heads who support privatizing our public lands.

They make choices that erode the policies and institutions that keep our public lands healthy, accessible, and public.

The places they’re risking are probably personal to you. They certainly are to me.

It started when I was 9. My brother and I were in the backyard, throwing rocks into the irrigation ditch behind our house when my parents called us over. My dad started to speak, but before he could, my mom said it: “Your dad and I are getting a divorce.”

I just ran—past the ditch, through the grass, toward the creek and into the trees, into the public land behind our house. The further I went, the quieter it got, the voices replaced by the sound of water in the creek and the wind in the cottonwoods. Out there, nothing had changed. The world still made sense.

Public lands have been my anchor ever since. They belong to me, like they belong to everybody —rich or poor, no matter where you come from. I want my kids and your kids to have them too, but I’m worried that our elected officials are slowly giving that opportunity away.

It’s hard to see in real time, because public lands disappear piece by piece, generation by generation, as they get divvied up, fenced off, and privatized. Over time, these changes add up, until one day you look around and realize something important is missing.

That’s the result of deliberate decisions. In Montana, candidates understand how much public lands matter to voters, so they campaign as supporters of public lands because it’s politically smart, not because it reflects what they’ll actually do once they’re in office.

Here in Montana, we want it straight. We don’t need political talk. We need real, honest leadership and leaders who stand by what they say.

Montanans deserve better. Candidates owe voters honesty about where they stand from the start. If someone is committed to protecting public lands, they should say so clearly and prove it with their votes. If they’re not, they should have the courage to be upfront about it, so voters can make their decisions with clear eyes.

Because true leadership isn’t about what you say—it’s about what you do. When there’s a gap between the two, it’s not just politics as usual; it has real consequences for the places we care about.

Here in Montana, we want it straight. We don’t need political talk. We need real, honest leadership and leaders who stand by what they say, because public lands are on the ballot this election year whether candidates admit it or not.

This year, we’re paying attention to what people do, not what they say. This year, we won’t just disappear into the wild places we love. We’ll show up and vote like our public lands depend on it.

Because they do.

Casey Anderson is a filmmaker who’s spent 30 years documenting wildlife worldwide, with a focus on protecting the wild places that shape us. He lives in Paradise Valley with his wife and children.