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The United States has spent, and continues to commit, billions of dollars to reverse the decline in the abundance of wild (in contrast to hatchery-origin) salmon and steelhead along the West Coast of North America (California, Oregon, Washington, and Idaho).  After spending billions, success, if any, has been limited and rare (Gustafson et al. 2007, Jaeger and Scheuerell, 2023, Bilby et al. 2024, Ford et al. 2025).  How can so much money be spent for so long with such disappointing results?  Perhaps an even more interesting question is why the situation is likely to continue.

The focus here is on 6 anadromous West Coast salmonid species:

  • Chinook salmon (also called king salmon), Oncorhynchus tshawytscha
  • Coho salmon (also called silver salmon) O. kisutch
  • Sockeye salmon (also called red salmon) O. nerka
  • Chum salmon (also called dog salmon) O. keta
  • Pink salmon (also called humpback salmon) O. gorbuscha
  • Steelhead (the anadromous form of rainbow trout) O. mykiss

Although steelhead are classified as trout, I include them when I refer to West Coast “salmon.”

I assert that the lack of West Coast salmon recovery is disappointing, but it is rarely because of a lack of scientific information or understanding.  Rather, it is because the policy problem has been treated simplistically, and with a bureaucratic and legal approach is doomed to fail.  My perspective on the full complement of politicians, bureaucrats, scientists, technicians, and policy advocates engaged (and usually funded) in some aspect of salmon recovery is partly inspired by President Eisenhower’s famous 1961 speech about the risks of creating a Military Industrial Complex (MIC).  For salmon recovery, I will label the analogous assemblage of individuals and organizations, funded by the multibillion-dollar expenditures from many sources, as the Salmon Recovery Industrial Complex (SRIC).

Currently, SRIC is well funded by a mix of government and private support.  Individuals employed in the SRIC are paid directly, often through contracts or grants, by governments (Federal, State, local, and tribal administrative units and State and private universities), or private parties (advocacy or interest organizations, foundations, professional groups, companies and corporations, and consultancies).  Nominally private funding organizations are often supported by tax-advantaged (i.e., tax-deductible) donations from individuals and organizations.  Such private funding is, therefore, subsidized by taxpayers.  Policy advocacy groups representing many different political perspectives abound, and many have extensive paid scientific, legal, and lobbying staff to advance their goals.  Such advocacy organizations (either by their paid staff or under contract to outside experts) often produce peer-reviewed scientific products that align with their organizations’ policy preferences.

Delusional policy realities and pervasive optimism abound despite sustained multibillion-dollar expenditures and little recovery success.  All this exists, despite a massive, ever-expanding peer-reviewed scientific literature, and, perhaps, partially driven by a pervasive, but unfounded optimism (Figure 1).  For example, based on my personal interactions, it is frequent within the SRIC for individuals to assume some variation of the notion that “if the public and policy makers just understood the science relative to the 200-year decline of West Coast salmon, then the path to restoration would be obvious, and the difficult, but necessary political decisions would be broadly supported.”  To some scientists in the SRIC, this belief leads to the maxim:  “Everyone knows what the salmon recovery goal should be.  We understand the science, now listen to us about what should be done.”  But what is the recovery goal?  Is it to avoid an Endangered Species Act listing, levels which could be a few percent of historic numbers?  Is the goal to sustain runs to support a limited fishery, perhaps a third of the historical (1850s) run size?  Is it to return salmon runs to 100% of historic (1850s) levels?  What role, if any, should hatchery fish play in sustaining or increasing run size?  If the overarching goal is to return wild runs to some historical level, why should any harvest of hatchery-origin salmon be permitted because some wild fish are killed in the process?  Although these questions are central to any recovery program, they are rarely explicitly agreed to by all participants.

Why does the SRIC continue unabated when there is essentially no significant indication of success (i.e., there is little evidence that wild runs are increasing as a result of the SRIC’s actions)?  If the path to salmon recovery is clear, why is it not supported more generally across the political spectrum?  Or, perhaps SRIC is an example of symbolic politics (i.e., the implementation of an aggressive effort to meet a publicly stated policy goal that is unlikely to be successful, but will demonstrate to concerned citizens and, more broadly, the electorate that the problem is being addressed)?  Or, perhaps, it is an example of virtue signaling (i.e., expressing sympathy for a popular policy goal without the expectation of the action making much difference)?

My goals here are to propose answers to two questions:  (1) why did the billions spent by the SRIC not successfully recover salmon runs, and (2) why is it likely that this expenditure will continue, with the same outcome?

This policy case study is not new, and the basic facts about the overall salmon recovery failures are well documented (Nehlsen et al  1991;  Gustafson et al 2007; Waldman and Quinn  2022;   Quinn 2018, 2025).  Further, the choices that have been made about West Coast salmon since the mid-1800s are fundamentally similar to those in other 3 places where salmon originally occurred (i.e., the Asian Far East, Western and Northern Europe, and Eastern North America).  Lack of scientific understanding was rarely the primary cause.  The general pattern of decline nearly always followed a well-established inverse correlation:  as the number of people and their associated activities increased, the size of salmon runs decreased.

Although not well documented, the current West Coast salmon decline arguably began in the early 1800s in what is now Idaho, Oregon, Washington, and British Columbia (at the time, called the Oregon Territory) with conflicts between Great Britain and the United States over the lucrative beaver fur market.  The British Hudson’s Bay Company (HBC) tried to keep American beaver trappers from moving northward into what is now British Columbia by implementing a policy of aggressively trapping all beaver inhabiting the Columbia River Basin and the surrounding area.  This created a large “fur desert,” an area largely devoid of beaver.  The hope was that American beaver trappers would shun these areas of disputed sovereignty.  With the demise of the beaver population, the ubiquitous beaver dams soon disappeared.  At the time, the effect on salmon runs was unknown and not a concern to the HBC, but it was likely ecologically significant because beaver dams generally benefit some salmon species.  Politically, the beaver eradication plan worked as intended.  The American fur trappers avoided areas where beaver populations had been eliminated or much reduced.

The subsequent (1848) discovery of gold at Sutter’s Mill, Coloma, California with the ensuing influx of gold miners, soon followed by widespread West Coast mining activities, accelerated the decline of salmon.  This decline is generally well known and documented (Lackey et al 2006).  Beyond California, in Oregon, Washington, and Idaho, the salmon decline began in the 1860s with extensive mining, logging, agriculture, and dam construction.  By the late 1800s, even the Columbia River Basin — once home to legendary runs — had lost most of its salmon.  The decline in salmon runs was obvious, and hatchery programs, initiated in the 1870s, became the primary approach to sustain the West Coast salmon runs.  Supplemental stocking from hatcheries has long been employed to sustain or increase declining runs (and harvests) (Courter et al. 2023; Harrison et al. 2026). Even with hatchery supplementation, over decades and centuries, wild salmon runs dwindled to very low numbers, as they are now.  Today, most salmon in West Coast streams and rivers are the progeny of parents who spawned in hatcheries, and the existing recreational, commercial, and tribal harvest is principally supported by hatcheries.

The West Coast salmon decline followed the pattern that previously played out in (1) the Asian Far East at least a thousand years ago, (2) Europe starting 500 years ago, and (3) eastern North America starting in the 1600s.  At its core, the pattern is that when human populations (and the associated economic activities) expanded and landscapes transformed, salmon runs diminished.

Salmon consumers, unfamiliar with the West Coast’s current salmon status (i.e., many current runs have been extirpated while the remaining runs are at single-digit levels of the 1850s run sizes), may wonder how salmon can be available year-round in their local retail market, yet are now a remnant of their former abundance in West Coast streams and rivers.  The much-reduced size of the runs is obscured for them because (1) pen-raised salmon, usually grown in marine environments (British Columbia, Chile, Norway), are readily available year-round in the retail market, and (2) wild Pacific salmon are abundant elsewhere, especially in Alaska and the Russian Far East, and these harvests also support the West Coast retail market.

It is indeed ironic that retail salmon are available year-round on the West Coast, yet the local current runs are shadows of their former levels, and many are listed as either threatened or endangered under the U.S. Endangered Species Act.  Today, roughly 80% of salmon in the region are hatchery-origin.  While hatchery salmon releases support most fishing, they complicate recovery by masking declines and potentially introducing genetic and ecological risks to wild stocks (Lackey et al. 2006;  Harrison et al.  2026).

Salmon are resilient animals.  In fact, no species of Pacific salmon faces extinction, but many local populations (i.e., stocks, runs, distinct population segments, or evolutionarily significant segments) are gone, and hundreds more are at risk (Gustafson et al. 2007, Ford et al. 2025).  Of the over a thousand geographically distinct populations in California, Oregon, Washington, and Idaho that existed before the early 1800s, nearly 30% are extinct, and most surviving runs are less than 5% of historical numbers.  The causes — habitat alteration, dams, irrigation, harvest, climatic changes, competition with non-native fish species, interactions with hatchery-origin salmon, and many others — are well-documented in a massive peer-reviewed scientific literature (Quinn 2018, 2025).  What remains contested is the relative importance of these factors and, more fundamentally, the willingness of society to make the trade-offs necessary for recovery.  The stark reality is that, despite billions of dollars invested and decades of scientific effort, the recovery of wild salmon remains elusive.

It is important to reiterate that the geographic scope of this article is limited to the West Coast (California, Oregon, Washington, and Idaho), and, indirectly, the North Pacific Ocean to the extent that salmon originating from those four States use the marine environment during their life cycles.  Especially in the far north (adjacent to Alaska and the Russian Far East), the North Pacific Ocean is warming, and this correlates with important ecological changes.  For historical context, the overall salmon abundance in the North Pacific is higher now than at least since the 1970s.  Whatever ecological conditions or human interventions are driving the change (e.g., warmer temperatures, industrial-scale major increases in stocking from Alaska, Japanese, and Russian hatcheries, or others) have primarily benefited pink and chum salmon (Connors et al. 2025).

This two-century, persistent, and predictable West Coast salmon decline raises two fundamental policy questions:  (1) What precisely does society wish to recover? and (2) Why have recovery efforts nearly always failed their publicly stated goals?  I will argue here that the answer lies not in inadequate science or bad actors,  but a suite of policy realities that capture the interplay of ecological constraints, societal priorities, individual (personal) preferences, and a failure to incorporate overall policy realities into recovery goal setting.  Even in those few cases where runs have greatly increased (at least temporarily), it is rarely linked clearly to specific SRIC recovery efforts.

Scientific information is useful, even necessary, to unraveling the causes of the long-term decline of West Coast salmon, but unraveling the policy context is essential to selecting a salmon recovery program that would actually work.  Here are the core policy realities that have, and will, drive (and constrain) any West Coast salmon recovery program.  It is within these policy realities that provide the explanations of (1) why past SRIC recovery efforts have predominantly not succeeded, and (2) which policy changes must happen if wild salmon recovery is to be achieved.

From the political science perspective, sustaining (or increasing) the size of salmon runs is a classic “wicked” policy challenge.  A wicked policy problem is intractable, has no definitive solution, involves multiple stakeholders, and is characterized by uncertainty, conflicting values, and interdependent causes (Termeer et al. 2019).  The salmon recovery case study meets all these criteria.  Additionally, the SRIC operates in a political environment where any proposed efficacious (for salmon recovery) policy choice results in unmistakable (and vocal) policy losers (a zero-sum feature).  Predicting with high confidence the economic and political consequences of many recovery policy choices is problematic, and this uncertainty skews policy-makers away from bold changes that have uncertain outcomes.  For those employed in the SRIC, but without a sense of the overall policy context, the sense of a possible “win-win” policy choice sounds tantalizing.  However, it is an unachievable target that becomes apparent after routine policy analysis.  In short, there are always policy winners and losers in salmon recovery policy, but pitching the win-win is certainly tempting.  An old policy cliché is especially apropos for the SRIC:  “Policy making is all about picking winners and losers.”

ESA has been the dominant policy driver of West Coast salmon policy and management for four decades. For salmon recovery, some critics of the status quo assert that ESA has fostered “lawfare” (i.e., suing, or the threat of suing, to achieve desired salmon policy objectives) rather than supporting recovery programs that might actually work (Figure 2).  They may point to the fact that the cost of some construction and development is inflated for no demonstrable improvement in salmon runs.  Conversely, ESA supporters typically argue that the law is the only tool available that has any chance of being effective.  Also, for some advocacy organizations, it has proved to be a powerful weapon in their arsenal.  In direct response to such lawsuits (or the threat of lawsuits), the SRIC’s overall budget has increased significantly.  Return on Investment (ROI) analysis of Columbia River Basin expenditures, for example, has indicated that billions of dollars are now spent annually by the SRIC to comply with salmon ESA-compliance issues, but salmon runs have rarely improved  (Franks and Lackey,  2015;  Jaeger and Scheuerell  2023;  Ford et al. 2025).  Beyond the substantial economic cost, ESA enforcement continues to create seeming policy paradoxes:  (1) ESA-listed salmon are still routinely harvested under government approval;  (2) hatchery supplementation, mandated by other legislation to sustain fishing, is often challenged by ESA lawsuits as putting wild salmon at genetic risk;  (3) unlike most other ESA-listed “species,” no biological salmon species is at risk of extinction because ESA enforcement treats “populations” as “species”;   (4) it is now typical along the West Coast for most salmon in a particular run (of one species) to be of hatchery origin rather than the offspring of salmon that spawned naturally in a stream;  and (5) most salmon in the retail market are raised in net pens and are not derived from natural spawning or the product of hatcheries, thus there are abundant salmon available in grocery stores and restaurants.

Unlike a few other ESA-listed species (e.g., wolves and grizzlies), no one has ever sought to eradicate salmon, but sustaining or increasing salmon runs competes with a diverse and sizable set of individual and collective personal priorities.  For example, people also want (1) low-cost and desirable food, (2) abundant, reliable, and cheap energy, and (3) an economy that creates and sustains high-paying jobs.  For salmon, adequate water of sufficient quality is an ecological necessity.  For food production, farmers need water, and often in large amounts, which reduces the amount or quality of water available for salmon.  For energy needs, baseload production in many high- and medium-income countries is generated by hydro power (which is detrimental for salmon).  As for high-paying jobs, energy production and national wealth are highly correlated:  the more energy produced, the higher a country’s GDP (not an advantageous political landscape for salmon recovery advocates).   As for providing salmon for the retail market, there is high demand.  The market, however, is not supplied by free-living salmon, but by aquaculture (mainly net-pens in marine, near-shore environments).  In California, Oregon, Washington, and Idaho, in spite of the poor state of West Coast runs, salmon in the retail market are available year-round.

As it is for many ecological policy challenges, competition for water (as well as watersheds) is often a defining flashpoint in salmon policy.  In the western United States, competing demands — for agriculture, municipal use, forest products, industry, artificial intelligence data centers, and energy — usually mean wild salmon advocates are competing for an essential commodity (of which the water itself is only part) that many other policy advocates also value highly.  For example, the recent removal of several relatively large West Coast dams, such as the two on the Elwha River (Washington) and four on the Klamath River (California/Oregon border, involved structures that were no longer economically viable as electricity producers, afforded minimal flood protection, and supplied a relatively small number of farmers with irrigation water (Figure 3).  Had these six dams generated substantially more electricity at lower cost, provided greater flood protection, or supplied irrigation water to politically powerful farmers, then it is likely that there would have been insufficient political support for their removal.

Because the West Coast is a “fill-in” region in demographic terminology, the size of the future human population is particularly difficult to predict.  Regardless, the demands of the human population are a major factor limiting recovery options.  For example, the current population of California, Oregon, Washington, and Idaho is approximately 54 million.  Although birthrates have declined markedly in many countries to much less than the   ̴2.1 per female needed for population stability, the West Coast population is growing relatively rapidly, mostly from new residents from within the U.S., as well as immigration.  Without the typical age profile (i.e., “skewed old”) of most regions of the world, the West Coast will assuredly grow at least by half, from the current 53 million to 80 million by 2100, possibly many more.  Regardless of the actual West Coast population at the end of this century, the residents will collectively require housing, schools, roads, airports, mass transit, energy production, reliable electrical grids, food, and recreational opportunities — demands that translate (for salmon) into less or suboptimal habitat, poorer quality water, competition for water with energy intensive computer farms to support artificial intelligence computer programs, agriculture growing and processing operations, and others.  Yet, in most salmon policy analyses and discussions, the additional human population effect on salmon runs is rarely explicitly considered in recovery strategies.  Rather, it is often treated as an unstated policy constraint, and, if considered, is buried in ambiguous wording and rarely noticed, much less discussed.

Worldwide, energy use (especially electricity) is positively correlated with the standard of living.  There are no high-income, low-energy-use countries.  For energy production, the West Coast has many large, high-gradient rivers, the requisite for a large hydroelectric facility.  Hydro generation is reliable, relatively cheap, and overall, an ideal source of baseload power.  Irregular or intermittent energy sources (primarily solar and wind) must have sufficient baseload power generation (or battery storage) to offset their intermittent nature.  In regions where it is viable, hydropower has proven to be a reliable (and relatively cheap) source of baseload electricity.  Conversely, there is a well-known downside:  those people prioritizing anadromous fish runs are policy losers when rivers were dammed.  From a scientific perspective, there is no “right” balance between baseload power production, irrigation water, flood control, data center operations, or recovering salmon runs.  Rather, it is an excellent example of the previously stated assertion that “Policy making is all about picking winners and losers.”

Floods have been feared by people for millennia, and much of the West Coast is exceedingly flood-prone.  For example, in the winter of 1861-62, the entire California Central Valley, the Klamath River and its tributaries, the lower Columbia River and its tributaries, and many others experienced catastrophic floods.  Not surprisingly, flood control has long been a political priority on the West Coast.  The ability to decrease flood risk has increased markedly since 1861 with the increasing capability to build large, reliable dams that partially regulate flows.  However, dams block or at least hinder migrating salmon (both those returning to freshwater to spawn and those leaving freshwater nursery areas for the sea).  Nor are the lakes created behind the dams helpful to sustaining salmon abundance.  Fishways of many designs are successful to varying degrees, but a free-flowing river is nearly always superior for salmon returning to freshwater or leaving freshwater for the ocean.  Other flood control activities (i.e., channelization, filling flood-prone areas, bank armoring, levee construction, etc.) further alter the landscape upon which salmon are dependent.  Despite most people’s inherent political support for sustaining salmon runs, this support does not often override the desire to avoid future floods. 

For the foreseeable future, net pen production in Europe, North America, and South America will provide sufficient salmon for the retail market.  However, for the West Coast, sustaining a substantial salmon harvest (recreational, commercial, and tribal fishing) without hatcheries is unrealistic.  Most remaining runs of wild salmon in California, Oregon, Washington, and Idaho are at a fraction of their 1850s run levels and will not sustainably support substantial fishing pressure.  Juvenile salmon releases from hatcheries currently number in the many billions, and these fish (as returning adults) provide most of the West Coast salmon fishing opportunities.  Perhaps, as some argue, continuing to rely on hatcheries dooms any future recovery of wild salmon runs, but others observe that wild salmon are currently such a small percentage of most West Coast runs that they could not support sustained harvests.  For those who value harvest (recreational, commercial, and tribal) on the West Coast, there is no other realistic near-term option to sustaining fishable run sizes except hatcheries.

Scientific information should be an important component of salmon debates, but “facts” are only a part of policy disagreements because most such conflict is over competing values.  The scientific enterprise comprises individuals who nowadays are highly partisan in their political leanings (Motta 2018,  Ross et al. 2018).  In some cases, scientific information used in policy debates is little more than policy advocacy masquerading as relevant science.  Such normative science is used to covertly advocate for a particular and predetermined policy preference.  Perhaps not surprisingly, it is typical for every policy advocate or advocacy organization in salmon policy deliberations to offer science that implicitly supports their particular policy inclination.  Conversely, rather than demand policy neutrality, some policy makers appear to encourage scientists to “tell us what we should do,” even though the core of most salmon policy debate hinges not on scientifically-driven, but on value-driven policy preferences.  If scientists are to play a helpful role in such policy debates (and they should), policy makers must trust in their impartiality.  Ultimately, scientists must be trusted, or their input will be categorized as simply another advocacy pitch and categorized accordingly.

The lack of West Coast salmon recovery was not caused primarily by ignorance, much less can it be ascribed to a lack of sound scientific understanding.  Rather, it is a reflection of the failure to describe openly the mix of evolving, uncertain, competing, politically divisive, and often mutually exclusive policy choices.  Every potential policy choice has its own set of policy winners and losers, and in most cases, “paying off” the losers has not led to a stable political compromise.  Future salmon recovery strategies that ignore this policy reality are destined to fail, as they have for at least the past two centuries.  Technical fixes (fish ladders, hatcheries, habitat restoration) cannot overcome core policy drivers such as the ecological effects of human population growth, market and personal economic choices, lifestyle preferences, and individual choices about a host of decisions.  Such realities should be clearly explained to policy makers, the public, and other interested parties, even if it is reasonably certain that the political dynamic will only support the current, failed recovery strategy.

Meaningful salmon recovery requires transformative changes that are politically unsettling to many:  (1) revising ESA to enable strategic prioritization as is typically allowed for policy tradeoffs as occurs for most public issues, (2) confronting unpleasant ecological realities such as the fact that many aquatic environments are now better suited for the now thriving nonnative fish species, as West Coast salmon slowly decline to remnant runs), (3) finding a better way for the public to weigh in on balancing the various water demands such as weighing the importance of sustaining baseload power generation vs. restoring wild salmon runs, and (4) accepting that nearly everything that humans value directly competes with restoring salmon runs (e.g., reducing the risk of floods almost always adversely affects salmon runs).  Such policy changes entail major costs — economic, political, and cultural — that society has historically been unwilling to bear.  In other words, along with the political winners, there will be political losers:  for the losers, they know they will be losers, and they most likely must be accommodated to create a viable, stable political compromise.

Considering the remainder of this century and absent transformative change in society’s priorities, salmon recovery efforts will continue as largely symbolic gestures:  expensive but politically useful, tangible but largely ineffective.  Perhaps these expenditures will continue to successfully serve as “guilt money,” a collective salve (and political cover) for the discomfort of ecological loss.  If the policy goal is genuine recovery to anything approaching fishable runs, candor about trade-offs is imperative, and the legal constraints caused by ESA need to be explicitly addressed.  Otherwise, scientists, policy makers, and the public must confront the uncomfortable and ongoing truth:  returning wild salmon to “fishable” abundance is ecologically and theoretically possible, but only if society is willing to make currently unpopular choices that fundamentally alter how people live.  To imply that wild salmon recovery can be done otherwise is to perpetuate a delusional reality.

Bilby, R.E., Currens, K.P., Fresh, K.L., Booth, D.B., Fuerstenberg, R.R., and Lucchetti, G.L. 2024.  Why aren’t salmon responding to habitat restoration in the Pacific Northwest?  Fisheries, 49: 16-27.  https://doi.org/10.1002/fsh.10991

Brummett, R.E., I.G. Cowx, and D.M. Bartley.  2026.  Genetic and ecological management of Pacific Salmon fisheries for the 21st century.  Fisheries Management and Ecology.  1-13.  https://doi.org/10.1111/fme.70069.

Connors, B.C., G.T. Ruggerone,  J.R. Irvine.  2025.  Adapting management of Pacific salmon to a warming and more crowded ocean, ICES Journal of Marine Science, 82:1. https://doi.org/10.1093/icesjms/fsae135

Courter, I. I., T. Chance, R. Gerstenberger, M. Roes, S. Gibbs, and A. Spidle.  2022.  Hatchery propagation did not reduce natural steelhead productivity relative to habitat conditions and predation in a mid-Columbia River subbasin.  Canadian Journal of Fisheries and Aquatic Sciences.  79(11): 1879-1895.  https://doi.org/10.1139/cjfas-2021-0351

Ford, M.J., Lindley, S.T., Barnas, K.A., Shelton, A.O., Spence, B.C., Weitkamp, L.A., Holzer, D.M., Boughton, D.A., Holmes, E.E., Myers, J.M., Jordan, C.E., Fish, H., Liermann, M., O’Farrell, M.R., Mantua, N.J., Johnson, R.C., Satterthwaite, W.H., and Williams, T.H.  2025.  Abundance trends of Pacific Salmon during a quarter century of ESA protection.  Fish and Fisheries.  26: 1087-1106.  https://doi.org/10.1111/faf.70019

Franks, S. E., and Lackey, R. T. 2015. Forecasting the most likely status of wild salmon in the California Central Valley in 2100.  San Francisco Estuary and Watershed Science, 13(1).  https://doi.org/10.15447/sfews.2015v13iss1art1

Gustafson, R.G., Waples, R.S., Myers, J.M., Weitkamp, L.A., Bryant, G.J., Johnson, O. W., Hard, J.J.  2007. Pacific salmon extinctions:  quantifying lost and remaining diversity.  Conservation Biology, 21: 1009-1020. https://doi.org/10.1111/j.1523-1739.2007.00693.x

Harrison, H. L., Ø. Aas, V. Berseth, et al.  2026.  A review of a decade of anadromous salmonid hatchery (and stocking) research:  insights for policy, management, and a changing climate.  Fish and Fisheries  27(3): 431-450.  https://doi.org/10.1111/faf.70056.

Jaeger, W.K., and Scheuerell, M.D.  2023.  Return(s) on investment:  restoration spending in the Columbia River Basin and increased abundance of salmon and steelhead.  PLOS ONE, 18(7), e0289246.  https://doi.org/10.1371/journal.pone.0289246

Lackey, R.T.  2015.  Wild salmon recovery and inconvenient reality along the west coast of North America:  indulgences atoning for guilt?  WIREs Water, 2: 433-437.  https://doi.org/10.1002/wat2.1093

Lackey, R.T., Lach, D.H., and Duncan, S.L. (Editors).  2006.  Salmon 2100:  The Future of Wild Pacific Salmon.  American Fisheries Society, Bethesda, Maryland, 629 pp.

Motta M.  2018. The polarizing effect of the March for Science on attitudes toward scientists.  Political Science & Politics. 51(4): 782-788. https://doi.org/10.1017/S1049096518000938

Nehlsen, W., Williams, J.E., and Lichatowich, J.A. 1991.  Pacific Salmon at the crossroads: stocks at risk from California, Oregon, Idaho, and Washington.  Fisheries, 16: 4-21. https://doi.org/10.1577/1548-8446(1991)016<0004:PSATCS>2.0.CO;2

Quinn, T.P.  2018.  The behavior and ecology of Pacific salmon and trout (2nd ed.).  University of Washington Press.  http://www.jstor.org/stable/j.ctvcwnvv1

Quinn, T.P.  2025.  Changing themes in Pacific Salmon research and conservation.  Reviews in Fisheries Science and Aquaculture, 1-25.  https://doi.org/10.1080/23308249.2025.2595550

Ross, A. D., Struminger, R., Winking, J., & Wedemeyer-Strombel, K. R. 2018. Science as a public good:  findings from a survey of March for Science participants.  Science Communication. 40(2): 228-245.  https://doi.org/10.1177/1075547018758076

Termeer, Catrien J. A. M., A. Dewulf, R. Biesbroek.  2019.  A critical assessment of the wicked problem concept:  relevance and usefulness for policy science and practice. Policy and Society, 38(2): 167–179.  https://doi.org/10.1080/14494035.2019.1617971

Waldman, J.R., Quinn, T.P.  2022.  North American diadromous fishes:  drivers of decline and potential for recovery in the Anthropocene.  Sci. Adv. 8, eabl5486   https://doi.org/10.1126/sciadv.abl5486

            An especially muddying factor in unraveling ecological policy disputes is identifying the role of religious views in shaping scientific information.  These days, religious, ethical, or moral values are often embedded in “science” to form a type of information that is no longer entirely scientific.  I call this type of information Religious Ecology, which is now prevalent even in the peer reviewed scientific literature.  Such information superficially resembles Scientific Ecology, but rather than being policy neutral, it incorporates particular religious or ethical assumptions, often in ways that are opaque to the average reader or listener (see figure below for how this happens).  Thus, Religious Ecology is normative science, a form of policy advocacy often unrecognized because the embedded and assumed policy preferences are difficult to detect.

            Religious Ecology assumes a set of norms about how humans should live and make decisions about ecological policy issues.  After reviewing many peer reviewed scientific articles that exhibit embedded values and policy preferences, I have modeled an analog to the well-known Judeo-Christian Ten Commandments.  In practice, the Ten Commandments of Religious Ecology (see box below) are not rigid, but provide insight into how the policy advocate (i.e., the “believer”) perceives policy choices and thus why those values and policy preferences are embedded in the resulting scientific reporting.

           

            Of course, many religious and ethical-based philosophies offer their preferred “rules” or “guidelines” for ecological policy issues, but within Religious Ecology, the values-based and science-based ideas are intertwined and difficult to separate.  Specifically, in ecologically oriented science, at their core, they share some version of the well-known Judeo-Christian Garden of Eden’s Romantic View of Nature, wishing humans to live harmoniously with the natural, non-human world.  The Garden of Eden was a paradise on Earth, but the fall from Grace began with humans succumbing to temptation and greed and enduring the resulting pollution.  The Ten Commandments of Religious Ecology similarly delineate a path back to the Garden of Eden, the natural and optimal state of ecosystems.  Thus, Religious Ecology is either a form of science infused with ethical values or, perhaps more accurately, a religion imbued with science.

            Let me illustrate with an example.  Consider Commandment #1 and how it is sometimes stealthily embedded in Scientific Ecology.  Referring to a piece of land as a “wheat field” is a policy neutral statement of information (i.e., science or a scientific fact).  It is the essence of classic Baconian science.  In contrast, referring to the same field as a “degraded or disturbed ecosystem” or a “healthy and thriving ecosystem” is not policy neutral because it has an embedded, assumed policy preference (i.e., Commandment #1 is accepted as the preferred policy).  Nothing has changed scientifically;  only the labeling differs.  Thus, it is normative science.

            Frequently, incoming students in my graduate-level ecological policy class are initially unaware of the impact of word choice and subtler forms of normative science.  Realistically, should professors expect graduate students (much less undergraduates) in ecology, environmental science, natural resources, fisheries and wildlife, and conservation science to understand issues such as normative science and stealth policy advocacy?  Or do they understand the arguments, but choose to advocate their preferred policy preferences, nonetheless?  Perhaps a more accurate answer is the observation (paraphrased) from one student,

Students in this class often accept that this assertion reflects contemporary reality and is, therefore, professionally acceptable.  Further, many students also accept the Ten Commandments of Religious Ecology as self-evidently true and appropriate for scientific communication.

            Like other simplified summaries of religious doctrine, nothing in their application is unequivocally absolute or consistent.  However, the Ten Commandments of Religious Ecology afford insight into how many ecological policy advocates (including professional scientists) tend to embed their values in the scientific information they develop and provide.  Rarely will such advocates explicitly categorize their scientific information as influenced by religious or faith-based values, so “users” of scientific information must be alert and not assume that all scientists are playing it straight.  Perhaps most stick to science, but others intentionally do not.  Hence, it is not surprising that public trust in the impartiality of scientists has declined.

            I encourage caution when assessing the scientific impartiality of professional ecologists who use their scientific credentials to promote their personal (or their employer’s) policy preferences.  For example, without resorting to the Ten Commandments of Religious Ecology, nothing in science says that a dam should be removed or maintained.  A free-flowing river is different ecologically than that same river dammed, but it is not “better or worse” without applying a value-based benchmark or baseline (i.e., often one or more of the Ten Commandments of Religious Ecology).  Consequently, there is no exclusively scientific basis for labeling an ecosystem’s condition as “healthy” (or “degraded”) unless a value or policy preference is applied to scientific information.

            It is easy for readers or listeners inexperienced with policy analysis to interpret “benchmarks” or “baselines” presented by scientists as the implicitly preferred policy choice when that may not be the scientist’s intent.  Such value choices (i.e., healthy, degraded, better, worse) arise outside the scientific enterprise, at least in a democracy.  Conversely, concepts like “healthy” are common in medicine because there is general public and political agreement about what constitutes a healthy individual human.  Thus, the metaphor of a healthy ecosystem analogous to a healthy individual human is weak and misleading.  Unlike individual humans, ecosystems do not get sick and die unless someone, using specific values and policy preferences, defines the desired, undisturbed, benchmark, or otherwise preferred state of that particular ecosystem.

            For scientists working on contemporary and highly contested ecological policy issues, sticking to science and policy neutrality requires sustained commitment, but it is the right thing to do.  Graduate training, professional mentorship, and institutional standards of practice can help ensure that scientists operate within scientific “good practices” and avoid becoming just another confusing advocacy voice struggling to be heard by misusing science.  The public is best served when scientists (sticking to Scientific Ecology) are honest brokers of scientific information.  Conversely, those slipping into Religious Ecology or other value-based policy constructs are working in the realm of policy advocacy.

Author Info:

            Robert T. Lackey (Robert.Lackey@oregonstate.edu) is a professor of fisheries at Oregon State University, where he teaches a course in ecological policy and mentors graduate students.  He was previously deputy director of the U.S. Environmental Protection Agency’s 350-person National Environmental Research Laboratory in Corvallis, Oregon, from which he retired in 2008.

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Robert T. Lackey

Department of Fisheries, Wildlife, and Conservation Sciences

Oregon State University

Corvallis, Oregon  97331

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https://media.oregonstate.edu/media/t/1_xoz803bc

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Seminar Summary: The overall public policy goal of restoring Pacific salmon wild runs in the Columbia River Basin appears to enjoy widespread public support.  Billions of dollars have failed to reverse the long-term, overall decline.  To answer the question of whether the effort to rebuild wild runs through the release of hatchery-produced salmon, I asked 58 well-known salmon scientists to predict (anonymously) how the overall abundance of Columbia River Basin salmon (including steelhead) would change after 20 years if fishing was stopped and hatcheries were closed.  About 83% predicted that current (wild plus hatchery) salmon abundance (overall Columbia Basin run) would decline without hatchery stocking and fishing.  Most surveyed experts predicted that stopping fishing and closing hatcheries would not greatly change the current overall wild-only abundance in the Basin.  Based on these results, salmon fishing and hatchery additions are not currently believed to be among the major drivers of the low abundance of wild salmon in the Columbia River Basin.  The current overall abundance of wild salmon in the Columbia River Basin (roughly 3-5% of pre-1850s levels) is within the expected range, given the amount and availability of high-quality salmon habitat, past and current ecological changes, and overarching trends in oceanic and climate conditions.  Thus, stopping fishing and closing hatcheries likely will not drastically change the current wild salmon abundance in the Basin — and it may well drive wild runs even lower, according to many experts.

*Presented at a Pacific Salmon Commission (Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada) seminar on November 29, 2023.

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Click Here for the Seminar Link

by 

Robert T. Lackey

Many of today’s ecological policy issues are politically contentious, socially wrenching, and replete with scientific uncertainty.  They are often described as wicked, messy policy problems (e.g., reversing the decline of salmon;  deciding on the proper role of wildfire on public lands;  what to do, if anything, about climate change;  worries about the consequences of declining biological diversity;  making sense about the confusing policy choices surrounding notions of sustainability).

Wicked, messy ecological policy problems share several qualities:  (1) complexity —  innumerable options and trade-offs;  (2) polarization — clashes between competing values;  (3) winners and losers — for each policy choice, some will clearly benefit, some will be harmed, and the consequences for others is uncertain;  (4) delayed consequences — no immediate “fix” and the benefits, if any, of painful concessions will often not be evident for decades;  (5) decision distortion — advocates often appeal to strongly held values and distort or hide the real policy choices and their consequences;  (6) national vs. regional conflict — national (or international) priorities often differ substantially from those at the local or regional level;  and (7) ambiguous role for science — science is often not pivotal in evaluating policy options, but science often ends up serving inappropriately as a surrogate for debates over values and preferences.

As if they are not messy enough, ecological policy issues may become further clouded by skepticism about the independence of scientists and scientific information.  Much of the available science is tendered by government agencies, companies and corporations, and public and private organizations, as well as myriad public and private interest and advocacy groups.  Each arguably has a vested interest in the outcome of the debate and often promulgates “science” that supports its favored position.

All ecological policy problems have unique features, thus there are exceptions to every generality, but are there lessons learned that can be broadly applied?  Like all axioms, mine are not universally true, but are applicable in most situations.

  • Ecological Policy Axiom 1 — The policy and political dynamic is a zero-sum game

Probably the most sobering reality for the uninitiated is that selecting any proposed policy choice results in winners and losers.  The search for a “win-win” choice, which sounds so tantalizing to decision makers, is hopeless with even superficial policy analysis.  There are always winners and losers even though people running for office may try to convince the voters otherwise.  This axiom is why policy making is sometimes described as “the political process of picking winners and losers.”

  • Ecological Policy Axiom 2 — The distribution of benefits and costs is more important than the ratio of total benefits to total costs

Benefits are the consequences of a policy option or decision that are categorized as good outcomes.  Benefits are sometimes measured solely in terms of money, but are more broadly encompassed by all the desirable things that are most likely to happen.  Conversely, the costs are the undesirable outcomes that are likely to happen (often, but not always, measured in monetary terms).

  • Ecological Policy Axiom 3 — The most politically viable policy choice spreads the benefits to a broad majority with the costs limited to a narrow minority of the population

Democracies operate on delegated compromise validated by periodic voting.  To gain sufficient political support (votes) for a proposed policy, it is prudent for the decision maker to spread the benefits across a sufficiently large number of people to garner majority support.  The corollary is that those (including future generations) who bear the costs should be a minority and the smaller the better.

  • Ecological Policy Axiom 4 — Potential losers are usually more assertive and vocal than potential winners and are, therefore, disproportionately important in decision making

With many ecological policy questions, those who bear the costs, the losers, have a disproportionately greater influence on the decision making process.  While policy analysis tends to evaluate the rationality of competing policy arguments, the political process tends to weigh breath and vigor in support of each competing policy option.  Issues of perceived fairness are important in the political process, but difficult to quantify in policy analysis.

  • Ecological Policy Axiom 5 — Many advocates will cloak their arguments as science to mask their personal policy preferences

Technocrats, as I apply the label, are individuals with scientific training who are responsible for implementing law or ecological policy.  There is an understandable impulse by technocrats to insert what they think is or should be the appropriate public policy goal or option.  For example, should ecological restoration be aimed at recreating the ecological condition that existed at the beginning of the Holocene, just prior to 1492, or at the end of last week?  The answer requires making a value judgment — a policy choice that is necessarily a political judgment — and it is not a scientifically derived decision.  Ecologists and other scientists should assess the feasibility and ecological consequences of achieving each possible restoration target.  Selecting from among the choices, however, is a societal enterprise.

  • Ecological Policy Axiom 6 — Even with complete and accurate scientific information, most policy issues remain divisive

The lament that “if we just had some better science, we could resolve this policy question” is common among both scientists and decision makers.  Calls for more research are ubiquitous in ecological policy debates.  In most policy cases, even if we had complete scientific knowledge about all aspects of an issue, the same rancorous debate would emerge.  Root policy differences are invariably over values and preferences, not science and facts.

  • Ecological Policy Axiom 7 — Demonizing policy advocates supporting competing policy options is often more effective than presenting rigorous analytical arguments

Scientists and policy analysts become frustrated when they fail to recognize that political debates are partly logical argument and partly image.  Negative images are often considered more effective in swaying people than positive ones.  In fractious ecological policy debates, proponents often spend more energy demonizing their opponents than sticking to rational policy analysis.  My experience is that such tactics are often effective in policy debates;  many people are moved by negative arguments.

  • Ecological Policy Axiom 8 — If something can be measured accurately and with confidence, it is probably not particularly relevant in decision making

In my experience, most scientists prefer to talk about things that they can measure with some degree of confidence.  Fish population abundance, recruitment rates, optimal habitat, toxicity levels, and field surveys are within our comfort zone.  We can put confidence limits on these numbers;  we can duplicate the data gathering year after year;  we can often forecast future conditions with some degree of confidence.

  • Ecological Policy Axiom 9 — The meaning of words matters greatly and arguments over their precise meaning are often surrogates for debates over values

In my experience, many citizens get frustrated in ecological policy debates because the advocates of various competing choices often seem to argue over semantic nuances rather than getting on with making decisions.  The precise meaning ascribed to key words is important and is often the battleground over what policy option is ultimately selected.  The debate over definitions is really a policy debate.  How should pivotal words such as “ecosystem health,” “sustainability,” “degraded,” “biological integrity,” “endangered,” “wild,” and “impaired” be defined?  Definitions chosen will lead (at least in the mind of the uninformed) to a particular policy option.  Thus, the debate over what might appear to be semantic nuances is really a surrogate debate over values and policy preferences.

Conclusion

Many of today’s ecological policy issues are contentious, socially divisive, and full of conundrums.  They are, however, typical of those that professional natural resource and environmental scientists will confront, both now and for the foreseeable future.  Those of us who provide information to help inform the participants involved in ecological policy debates need to be cognizant of and appreciate the importance of scientific information, but we also must recognize the reality that scientific information is just one element in complex political deliberations in a democracy.

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by

Robert T. Lackey

More than two decades ago, while Deputy Director of EPA’s national research laboratory in Corvallis, Oregon, I presented a talk to a group of community activists about why salmon populations along the West Coast have dropped to less than 5% of their historical levels.  I’ve given such talks many times so I was confident that I had heard just about every question that might be asked.  I was wrong.

The opening question was asked by a well-known political activist.  He was direct, pointed, and bursting with hostility:  “You scientists always talk about our choices, but when will you finally tell us what we SHOULD do about the dramatic decline of West Coast salmon?  Quit talking about the science and your research and tell us what we should do!  Let’s get on with it!”

From the nods of approval offered by many in the audience, his impatience with science and scientists was broadly shared.

What does the public expect from scientists regarding today’s ecological policy issues? Some examples of such policy challenges include the decline of salmon;  deciding on the proper role of wildfire on public lands;  what to do, if anything, about climate change;  the consequences of declining biological diversity;  and making sense of the confusing policy choices surrounding “sustainability.”

The lament “if we just had some better science, a little more data, we could resolve this policy question” is common among both scientists and decision makers.  Calls for more research are everywhere in ecological policy debates.

In most cases, even if we had complete scientific knowledge about all aspects of an issue, the same rancorous debate would emerge.  Root policy differences are invariably over values and preferences, not science, data, and facts.

In a pluralistic society, with a wide array of values and preferences competing for dominance, the ecological policy debate is usually centered around whose values and preferences will carry the day rather than over scientific information.

So what was my answer to the emotionally charged question from the political activist?

It was: “Science, although an important part of policy debates, remains but one element, and often a minor one, in the decision-making process.  We scientists can assess the ecological consequences of various policy options, but in the end, it is up to society to prioritize those options and make their choices accordingly.”

He wasn’t pleased.

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by

Robert T. Lackey

In science, when you see the words “natural,” “healthy,” “degraded,” and “biological integrity,”  all these terms, and many others, have embedded assumptions about what someone or some organization regards as a desirable value choice, a preferred policy choice.

These and similar words have no place in science.  They are classic examples of normative science.  Their use in scientific publications is simply policy advocacy disguised as science.

The words are fine for management, expected in policy advocacy, but not OK in science.

Here is a test:  first, put on your science hat.  Now imagine that the public owns a 5,000-acre stand of old-growth (never logged) forest which is being considered by a government agency for an alternative use.  Scientifically, is it preferable to (1) preserve this landscape as is, or (2) remove the trees and build a wind farm?

Neither ecological state is preferable scientifically!   At least not without assuming, perhaps unwittingly, a policy preference, a value choice.  If the science relevant to this policy question is presented in such a way to subtly favor either policy option, it is a classic example of normative science.

It may look like a scientific statement.  It may sound like a scientific statement.  It is often presented by people who we assume to be operating as scientists.   But, such statements in science are nothing more than “policy advocacy masquerading as science.”

Anyone following basic scientific principles should say:

            “Pristine ecosystems are neither superior, nor inferior, to human-altered ones.  Different, for sure, but not better or worse.”

Let me wrap up by offering Charles Darwin’s advice to scientists.  Remember that he was under a lot of social pressure to make his scientific findings conform to the dominant political and theological views of the time.  He offered pithy guidance to scientists:

          “A scientific man ought to have no wishes, no affections, a mere heart of stone.“

Strict, uncompromising, and unequivocal advice, but spot-on for scientists both then and now.

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by

Robert T. Lackey

Several years ago, toward the end of my career with the U.S. Environmental Protection Agency, one of the “outreach” staff in Washington, DC, telephoned me in Corvallis and posed a question:  “In science, why isn’t the notion of ecosystem health a useful metaphor to convey scientific information?  I see the metaphor used all the time.”

When I provided a long-winded, complicated, technically rigorous answer, the staffer was obviously disappointed. Evidently, he was looking for something simple and clear-cut.  I then asked, ever so diplomatically, to provide a brief written answer that could be published in the EPA internal blog.  What follows is an edited version of what was submitted.

Very young children have a habit of asking innocent, but thorny questions.   My grandson, however, has reached an age where innocence no longer passes for an excuse for his questions;   he knows enough now that his questions reflect the traits of a budding intellectual troublemaker.

A case in point:  here is my answer to his question about the increasingly popular term:  ecosystem health.

          “Grandpa, in school today in my science class, we talked about healthy ecosystems. My teacher says that when we are not feeling well, we go to a doctor to find out how to get healthy. If I have a sick ecosystem, she says that I should go to a scientist to find out how to make the ecosystem healthy. Dad says you are a scientist, so what is a healthy ecosystem?”

It is a good question and one that I, as a research scientist who has worked on such issues for over 40 years, should be able to answer with ease.

This seemingly straightforward question, however, does not have a simple answer. Further, the answer requires a clear understanding of the proper role of science in a democracy.

First, how is a person to recognize a healthy ecosystem?  Many might identify the healthiest ecosystems as those that are pristine. But what is the pristine state of an ecosystem? Is it the condition of North America prior to alterations caused by European immigrants, say 1491?  Or perhaps it is the condition of the land sometime well after the arrival of immigrants who came by way of the Bering land bridge, say 1,000 years ago? Or maybe it is the state of North America prior to the arrival of any humans, say more than 15,000 years ago?

Ultimately it is a policy decision that will specify the desired state of an ecosystem. It is a choice, a preference, a goal.

Scientists can provide options, alternatives, and possibilities, but ultimately in a democracy, it is society that chooses from among the possible goals.

For example, a malarial-infested swamp in its natural state could be defined as a healthy ecosystem, as could the same land converted to an intensively managed rice paddy.  Neither the swamp nor the rice paddy can be seen as a “healthy” ecosystem except through the lens of a person’s values or policy goals.

Once the desired state of an ecosystem is specified by someone, or by society overall through laws and regulation, scientists can determine how close we are to achieving that goal. They might even offer some approaches that might better achieve the goal.  Ultimately, though, it is society that defines the goal, not scientists. One person’s sick ecosystem is another person’s healthy ecosystem.

So, the answer to my grandson’s provocative question is that human health is not an appropriate metaphor for ecosystem health.  There is no inherently “healthy” state of ecosystems except when viewed from the perspective of societal values.

Pristine ecosystems (e.g., wilderness watersheds, Antarctica, uninhabited tundra) are certainly very different than highly altered ecosystems (e.g., farms, city parks, harbors) but neither a pristine ecosystem nor a highly altered ecosystem is scientifically better or worse — just different.

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