Fix our Forest Act

Rep. Doug LaMalfa has made the Fix Our Forests Act his wildfire platform, pitching it as “proactive forest management” that cuts “bureaucracy” to get more chainsaws on federal lands (Western Caucus, 2025). Strip away the branding, though, and the Fix Our Forest Act does something far more consequential: it expands categorical exclusions. It short-circuits environmental review and public accountability for large-scale logging on National Forests, BLM lands, and Tribal lands (Congress.gov, 2025a, 2025b). That might suit the timber lobby. It does not suit Northern Californians who need evidence-based fire safety, intact watersheds, and functioning ecosystems to survive longer, harsher fire seasons.

What the Fix Our Forest Act actually does (not the sales pitch)

The House bill text (H.R. 471) and Senate companion (S. 1462) are explicit: The Fix Our Forest Act’s core aim is to “expedite” NEPA for forest projects by widening fast-track categories and limiting review — exactly where public vetting and scientific scrutiny make the most significant difference (Congress.gov, 2025a, 2025b). Conservation, legal-advocacy, and health groups warn that the bill weakens bedrock safeguards (NEPA and the Endangered Species Act), trims community input, and hard-tilts planning toward commercial logging rather than community protection (Earthjustice et al., 2024; Earthjustice et al., 2025; UPHE et al., 2025). In plain English: The Fix Our Forest Act makes it easier to push through big landscape-level projects with less analysis of wildfire trade-offs, water, wildlife, and downstream risk — precisely the corners you should not cut in a hotter, drier West (CRS, 2025).

LaMalfa’s own message discipline centers on “lawsuits” and “red tape” (Western Caucus, 2025). But the data do not support the caricature that reviews “block” everything: the federal government already processes the vast majority of routine projects via categorical exclusions (CEs) — the lightest form of NEPA review — and agencies have added even more CE tools in recent years (CRS, 2025; USDA, 2025). Fix Our Forest Act’s answer to a problem that isn’t actually the bottleneck is to widen the shortcut anyway — reducing the very checks that keep risky projects from backfiring on communities (CRS, 2025; DOI, n.d.).

The science LaMalfa glosses over

LaMalfa conflates “more logging” with “more safety.” The research doesn’t back that blanket leap. A 2024 meta-analysis finds targeted thinning and prescribed fire can reduce wildfire severity — especially near communities — when treatments are designed and maintained properly (Davis et al., 2024). That is not a green light for indiscriminate commercial logging deep in backcountry forests. Other syntheses show that poorly conceived post-fire “salvage” logging and large, remote “fuel reduction” entries can harm biodiversity, increase erosion, and sometimes worsen fire behavior if they leave slash, remove shade, or fragment canopies in ways that dry fuels and invite severe winds (Thorn et al., 2017; John Muir Project, 2024). In short: location, objectives, and design matter. Fix Our Forest Act’s bias toward speed and volume, coupled with weaker review, is exactly how you get high-risk projects rubber-stamped while life-saving, home-centric measures (home hardening, defensible space within ~100 feet, evacuation planning) remain underfunded relative to their proven risk-reduction payoff (Davis et al., 2024; John Muir Project, 2024).

Why CA-01 loses

Northern California’s forests are already under compound pressure from heat, drought, and wind-driven fire weather. What CA-01 needs is surgical, community-first work: harden structures, maintain defensible space, conduct prescribed fire and strategic thinning near towns and infrastructure, and protect old-growth and riparian systems that store water and moderate microclimates. What the Fix Our Forest Act delivers is a policy funnel that prioritizes the fastest-to-approve logging footprints, paired with narrower public recourse if projects are mis-designed (Congress.gov, 2025a, 2025b; Earthjustice et al., 2025). That’s a recipe for more landslide-prone slopes, dirtier water after storms, degraded fish and wildlife habitat, and avoidable project-level fire hazards — all while siphoning scarce dollars away from the home ignition zone, where risk is actually determined (Davis et al., 2024; Thorn et al., 2017; UPHE et al., 2025).

The politics behind the policy

LaMalfa’s alignment is no mystery: Fix Our Forest Act is a marquee package for the House GOP’s natural-resources bloc, and he’s one of its loudest salesmen (Western Caucus, 2025). When industry and party leadership want speed and volume, that’s what the Fix Our Forest Act supplies. But the constituent math in CA-01 runs the other way. Families in Paradise, Greenville, Berry Creek, and foothill towns don’t need another slogan; they need projects that actually cut risk where they live, with accountability if agencies or contractors cut corners. By championing the Fix Our Forest Act as a cure-all, LaMalfa is trading long-term public safety, water quality, and biodiversity for short-term industry wins and talking points. That’s not “fixing forests.” That’s fixing the process to favor the wrong work, in the wrong places, for the wrong reasons (Congress.gov, 2025a, 2025b; CRS, 2025; Earthjustice et al., 2025).

CA-01 deserves an evidence-driven wildfire policy. The Fix Our Forest Act is not it. LaMalfa’s push would weaken guardrails, diminish public input, and tilt scarce funds away from the home ignition zone toward broad commercial logging that research does not show will make rural towns safer. It’s scathing but fair to say: on the Fix Our Forest Act, LaMalfa chose the logging lobby over the North State — and his constituents will bear the costs (Congress.gov, 2025a, 2025b; Davis et al., 2024; Thorn et al., 2017; Earthjustice et al., 2025; UPHE et al., 2025; Western Caucus, 2025).