The fire this time

Here in New Mexico, June was a hideous month of smoke and fire. The mountains -- mostly National Forest land -- burned. I could see from my back yard aerial tankers flying low over rugged terrain and through blinding smoke to drop fire-stopping slurry. Helicopters carrying vast water buckets flew circuits all day from lake to fire and back. Athletic fields at the edge of Santa Fe were tent cities housing firefighting crews brought in from other states.

I tried to imagine the response to wildfires in a Randian/Tea Party world. Surprise! What they call freedom becomes a country dominated by insurers and litigators. The Las Conchas fire – which is now the largest wildfire in New Mexico history – is a good example. The blaze started on a privately-owned ranch when a power line was pulled down by a falling tree. Fire spread quickly across public, private, and tribal land. In Randworld, of course, all of the involved land would be privately held and all firefighting privately paid. The ranch owners where the fire started would need insurance against damage to their own property plus coverage in case their fire spread to neighboring property. The bank holding the mortgage would also insist on coverage against fires due to uninsured neighbors. This would be similar to auto policies covering uninsured drivers. Insurance premiums would skyrocket in times of drought – meaning now – as fire risk increased. And, there, once again, is the big hole in Randite logic. Why would any private insurer risk catastrophic losses from large wildfires? Expect them, instead, to cancel existing policies outright or indirectly by demanding exorbitant premiums. Think of a cancer survivor trying to buy health insurance.

The Randite market may be wise, but it is not stable. Without insurance, property values plunge. Banks will call in mortgages. Land owners may abandon their holdings, but can not escape their responsibilities. Coping with fires – whether due to lightning, felled power lines, or carelessness – remains the land owner's responsibility. Neighbors, who likely also hold canceled insurance policies, can try to help put out the flames or can help pay professional firefighters. What if that's not enough? The Las Conchas fire went from start to 43,000 acres in half a day. Imagine a raging fire three times the size of Manhattan. It is now close to 150,000 acres. The firefighting costs tens of millions of dollars. Will the newly destitute sue the newly destitute? Will land owners turn over their mutually charred property to the bank or firefighting company? How many Mediterranean Avenues can anyone want?

Try a different scenario. Your privately-owned mountain paradise is parched by drought. Fires are demolishing thousands of acres of similar land near home and in adjacent states. You are like a rancher whose cattle are dying of thirst, or a farmer tending withered crops. You have been a conscientious steward of your property. You cleared tinder-dry underbrush from the forested areas. But, that's not enough. Living trees are so badly desiccated that fire can jump easily from crown to crown. In the Las Conchas fire, trees tops burned so fiercely that fist-sized burning embers were blown up to half a mile ahead of the fire line. Yes, you must destroy your land in order to save it. Cut down the trees and haul the logs away. (To where?) Cool mountain forest is transformed into rocky, sun-blanched high desert. The fire, if – or when – it comes, will rage around or over whatever remains. Breathe a sigh of relief. But, what happens when the rains come or winter's snow piles high? The water you craved in fire season is now the enemy. Nature serves up erosion, avalanches, and mudslides. Your fate – and bank account – are again entwined with your neighbors' after run-off from your property floods a neighbor's house, or barn, or buries their pick-up truck with sixteen tons of muck.

In the Randian United States, e plurbus unum is replaced with Go Fuck Yourself. Unrestricted selfishness generates endless bickering, threats, and counter-threats. Limited-imagination Randites believe that guns and more guns can maintain peace. They don't get it. The big problems will start when routine commerce operates without the guarantees now provided by government. Every Main Street transaction will needed to be hedged against the newest, ugliest economic catastrophe. If libertarian bozos complain now about lawyers getting in the way of everyday life, just wait until all buying and selling requires hold-harmless agreements, arbitration requirements, and specifications for a myriad of other contingencies. Insurance companies and litigators will inherit the earth.