Imagine you own some land.
  It's belonged to your  family for 150 years.
  It's potentially worth over $30 million.
  You've got big plans for it.
  Well, at least you did,
  until you get a call
  from the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service.
  You see, sir, your land  used to be a habitat
  for the dusky gopher frog.
  Now, nobody's seen the frog in your state
  in over 50 years, that's true.
  But it could hypothetically be a habitat
  for the little fella.
  All you'd have to do is rip up every tree
  across 1,500 acres of your property,
  replace all of it with  a very specific tree
  that doesn't grow there anymore,
  ensure that there are ephemeral ponds
  that dry up seasonally,
  ensure that those ponds  don't have any fish
  that'll feed on the frogs' eggs,
  do controlled burns a few times a year,
  and presto, it's habitable.
  Of course, by this standard,
  here's a mock-up of a potential habitat
  for the dusky gopher frog.
  (crickets chirping)
  If this sounds ridiculous,
  that's because it is.
  But this is what happened  to Ed Poitevent in 2012.
  His family has owned a  tract of land in Louisiana
  for over 150 years.
  He sees it as a family heirloom of sorts,
  something to pass on to his children.
  The land could be worth over  $30 million, if developed.
  Because of the critical  habitat designation,
  the Poitevents can't do much with the land
  without triggering a complicated
  and burdensome consultation process
  with U.S. Fish and Wildlife Services.
  They can't do anything that  would require a federal permit,
  which, in Ed's case, could  apply to just shoveling dirt.
  Almost anything that's  done on this land is likely
  to require a Clean Water Act permit.
  Just moving dirt around in an area
  that the Army Corps decides
  to call a water United States  can trigger federal liability
  and a federal permit.
  And that's the hook.
  Conservation work is so challenging
  because the dusky gopher frog needs
  a very specific landscape to thrive.
  Ephemeral ponds, open canopy forests,
  and periodic fires to  rejuvenate the grasses.
  And even then, it's unclear  that they would thrive.
  And here's why:
  this is the nature conservancy
  in Old Fort Bayou, Mississippi,
  100 miles east of Ed's property.
  They've been working to  recover the frog's population,
  no small task, given its  highly specific conditions.
  The conservancy took some tadpoles
  from the existing frog population
  to raise them in filtrated  aerated aquariums
  with a steady diet of algae wafers,
  which, trust me on this,
  should not be confused with  that healthy Trader Joe's snack.
  At their Old Fort Bayou pond,
  they've released nearly 3,800 tadpoles,
  and 5,500 metamorphs,
  which sounds like a Gundam Wing character,
  but is actually a technical term for frog.
  The results thus far:
  fewer than 50 frogs have survived
  at their specially designed,
  exhaustively nurtured site.
  Now, this is not uncommon result
  when you're transplanting a species.
  Even the most ideal circumstances,
  the frog's ability to  thrive is challenging,
  uncertain, and very, very labor-intensive.
  What's someone like Ed  Poitevent supposed to do?
  In a case like this, you're options are:
  A: comply with owner's rules,
  and run your very own conservation effort,
  overseen by a federal agency
  that would quite honestly  prefer to take all your land,
  B: give up, and leave the land as is,
  or C: fight back, and sue.
  Ed opted for C.
  Pacific Legal Foundation  is representing him
  on the case, free of charge.
  It's taken six years of  litigation and fighting,
  but it's finally before the Supreme Court.
  But the case isn't just about Ed's land,
  or a frog that doesn't live there.
  If a federal agency can do  this to the Poitevents' land,
  which, remember, the frog  does not, and cannot live,
  it can designate any piece of land,
  just about anywhere, as critical habitat.
  It's a tough case because we care
  about protecting endangered species
  like the dusky gopher frog.
  Biodiversity is important.
  But this heavy-handed route  does nothing for the frog,
  and it severely punishes  ordinary citizens.
  So what's a better way  of protecting the frog?
  Tate Wadkins, research fellow
  at the Property Environment  Research Center,
  has some thoughts.
  - [Tate] The bottom line  is that endangered species
  like the dusky gopher frog don't benefit
  when the law makes  enemies out of landowners.
  Channeling those resources to  on-the-ground recovery efforts
  like the nature conservancies,
  would actually benefit at-risk species.
  But a more collaborative approach
  to dealing with property  owners in the first place,
  might make them more receptive
  to partnering with groups  like the nature conservancy.
  And in the long run,
  that could make a real  difference for conservation.
     
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