The sky above Fire Lake in the Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness is alight with stars in this 2018 photo. (Mark Vancleave/The Minnesota Star Tribune)

When Republican Congressman Pete Stauber of Duluth announced legislation to allow mining near the Boundary Waters earlier this month, he forgot to mention one thing: what the rest of us want.

Stauber wants to overturn a Biden-era protection of a huge swath of federal land upstream of the Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness, Voyageurs National Park and Canada’s Quetico wilderness. The Biden administration blocked mining there for 20 years, calling the location a “unique natural wonder and one of the jewels of the National Wilderness Preservation System.”

The Biden move temporarily blocked a Chilean-owned mine, Twin Metals, from developing an underground copper-nickel mine 9 miles southeast of Ely, Minn. Stauber, who supports Twin Metals, said he wants to turn Minnesota into a “critical mineral powerhouse.”

Oh, glory. Maybe Stauber can make Minnesota to mining what Iowa is to corn. Wouldn’t that boost our quality of life?

“President Trump is the most pro-mining President in our nation’s history, and I look forward to working with his administration to get important mining projects across the finish line here in Minnesota, and nationwide,” Stauber said in the Feb. 5 statement.

Not a word about making sure the Boundary Waters would be protected from any pollution resulting from new mines. No olive branch to the vast majority of Minnesotans who want to safeguard the Boundary Waters, which includes protecting the waters that feed into the wilderness area.

Never mind that past polls have found that most Minnesotans, including those in northern Minnesota, don’t want mining near the Boundary Waters. Never mind that they have said they value environmental protections over jobs. Never mind that a U.S. Forest Service study found that mining near the Boundary Waters could spill toxic metals and chemicals downstream, hurting fish and risking public health.

I called Stauber’s state office to give him a chance to comment. I never heard back.

Stauber’s Trumpian tough-guy talk hearkens back to the era when Minnesota politicians divvied the state up for the highest bidder, shearing off its majestic white pines and draining its wetlands, environment be damned.

And Stauber’s hardly the only one pushing this agenda.

“We must farm, mine, travel, and work as we please,” wrote Larry Arnn in the November 2024 issue of Imprimis, the publication of conservative Hillsdale College where he is president. “That is the spirit of a free people.”

Arnn, at least, nodded to the necessity of national and state parks and open expanses.

Guys, we don’t live in the 1800s anymore. We now know about the interdependence of ecosystems, hydrogeology and the importance of wetlands. These are not areas you can just barge into on horseback, shouting, “Mine, baby, mine!”

Protecting the Boundary Waters is an arduous, ongoing process. Part of its range and watershed sits on the Duluth Complex, the world’s largest unmined deposit of copper, nickel, cobalt and platinum. There’s even the likelihood of gold. There’s no dispute that a growing human population could very much use these metals for pipes, wiring, batteries and all the other items used in modern society.

As time passes, no doubt the pressures to mine near the wilderness area will grow.

But as our society expands, there’s also a growing need to protect our special places. We need to know there are wilderness areas where we can see the stars at night and listen to the sound of a paddle dipping into still water. We need to know we can safely drink the water we pump from its lakes and rivers as we camp on its shores. We need to know the fish are safe to eat. We need to know that the wild rice harvested by local tribes will continue to be there, and that there’s a safe place for moose, bear and other iconic critters of the North Woods.

Minnesotans, including those who live near it, know what a treasure the Boundary Waters is. Every trip there is unique. You might startle a moose in a winding river or dodge falling branches during a windstorm. You can witness the regrowth of the forest after a fire. Or get stuck overnight, as one of my friends did, in January. (Level-headed and experienced, she built a fire to keep warm.)

It’s easy to write a love song to the Boundary Waters. The many gem-bright moments that remain in you long after you’ve hung up your paddle. The space and time to contemplate, to glide through mirror-like lakes, to doze off to the sound of raindrops on the tent.

It exists in a nonpartisan place. Its beauty appeals to nature lovers while its need for rugged self-reliance will entice the staunchest bootstrapper.

Stauber, Minnesota born and bred, needs to acknowledge the concerns that so many of us share, especially if he intends to seek statewide office someday. And ensure that the Boundary Waters waters remain pure.