How exactly Minnesota Gov.-Elect Tim Walz could talk a good game during the recent campaign about the importance of Minnesota's fish and wildlife and their habitats and not include on his 29-member transition advisory board anyone from the groups that sustain these resources is a puzzler.
Corn growers are represented, also the Mille Lacs Band of Chippewa and the Prairie Island Indian Community. Even a rabbi and the mayor of Fergus Falls made the cutoff. But no one from Ducks Unlimited, Pheasants Forever, the Ruffed Grouse Society, the Minnesota Deer Hunters Association, Trout Unlimited, Muskies Inc., the Minnesota Outdoor Heritage Alliance — or similar, more regional groups, such as the Nicollet Conservation Club.
It is true Paul Austin, executive director of Conservation Minnesota, made Walz's top 29. Austin is a good guy and Conservation Minnesota does what it does, which is promote conservation. But in the scheme of things, with total 2017 revenue of $1.25 million — about half contributed by its top five foundation- and corporate-funders — it cuts a somewhat narrower swath in Minnesota than, say, Ducks Unlimited (approximately $8 million expended annually here, with 42,000 paid state members) and Pheasants Forever (about $19 million, with 21,000 state members,) among others.
Omission from Walz's transition bunch is worrisome, but not in the way some might expect. Walz's Gang of 29, after all, likely will accomplish what advisory committees with 29 members usually accomplish: not much.
Yet there remains concern among at least some sporting types that once again they're being taken for granted.
A longtime conservation leader in southern Minnesota said neither Walz nor his staff had ever contacted his organization during the representative's days in Washington. But that changed when Walz announced his run for governor.
Now, as Walz strategizes ahead of his January inauguration, the bigger conservation issue — the one most everyone who owns a gun or fishing rod in this state is watching — is his selection of a Department of Natural Resources commissioner.
Tom Landwehr, DNR boss for eight years under Gov. Mark Dayton, was an early and not-too-subtle backer of Walz's campaign. Indications are Landwehr wants to stay on the job, and Walz doubtless has a finger to the wind to gauge among people who count the prospect of retaining Landwehr.