Letter to the Editor

 As published in the Glenrock Independent (08/06/2025)

-- by Joe Benedetta

(Author’s note: As Wyoming faces a wave of green energy projects, it is essential that we critically examine the promises being made and the costs they impose on our communities and landscapes. While green energy has been heralded as the future, the reality behind these projects is often more complicated than the glossy pamphlets and optimistic slogans suggest. The following explores the influence of the green energy lobby, the inflated economic promises, and the lack of community involvement in the approval process. It calls for a deeper, more transparent evaluation of the true price we pay for progress.)

The Hidden Costs of Pronghorn H2
In the rolling expanse of Wyoming, where the wind whispers through endless plains and the shadow of the mountains stretches long at dusk, a new kind of promise emerges on the horizon. It arrives not as the hopeful song of the meadowlark, but in the crisp speeches and glossy pamphlets of Green Energy Lobbying organizations, their pockets lined by the very industry they champion — and, curiously, by the government they petition.

Developers, lured by assurances of ‘smooth sailing’ and the siren call of slogans — ‘Wyoming is open for business’, ‘We’re all of the above for energy’, ‘It’s all about property rights’, ‘Save the ranching legacy’ — find themselves welcomed with open arms. State officials, eager to showcase progress, point to the ready availability of state lands for lease, advocating these public assets as fertile ground for innovation and economic revival.  

Thus, a new slogan has emerged: ‘Coming to a piece of state land near you’. The handshake is warm, the path appears clear, and the horizon gleams with opportunity. These developers are welcomed as heroes, honored with the badge of arrogance. After all, the slam dunk permit process has begun.

But beneath the surface, the true machinery hums quietly. Members of these lobbying organizations are not distant advocates, but deeply entwined in the local ecosystem: consultants, advisors, attorneys, and government liaisons — all poised to partake in the windfall should the developer choose Wyoming soil for their enterprise. Their interests are woven into the very fabric of the project, their fortunes rising with each new permit granted. Publicly, the trumpeted benefits are heralded with relentless optimism. Economic booms are predicted, tax revenues tallied before a single blade turns, the morning light touches the first solar panel, or the first kg of hydrogen begins its journey toward potentially changing the future, jobs conjured from the ether are celebrated, and the planet’s salvation invoked as the noble goal. 

Yet, these claims often swell beyond their true measure, each positive aspect inflated to float above the doubts that linger below.

As for the shadows, the potential harm, and the costs not borne by spreadsheets, the voices of local communities are muted or swept aside. The negative impacts — real, lasting and woven into the land —are not shouldered by the lobbyists or facilitators who champion these projects, but by the future generations destined to live in their shadow. These burdens, quietly accumulating, are rendered hypothetical by those in power, easily dismissed in the heady rush toward approval.

‘If we place restrictions on these projects, they will go somewhere else’, is often heard from the groupthink of the lobbying community. The process, though garlanded with the rhetoric of progress, is marked by haste. Agencies charged with the solemn duty of safeguarding communities find themselves pressed by the very officials meant to champion the public interest, their independence quietly corroded by political pressure.

Community input, the cornerstone of genuine democracy, is rarely solicited and even more rarely woven into the fabric of decision-making. And so, the circle closes: The original promise fulfilled not through evaluation or deliberation, but through expedience. The permit, it seems, is always a slam dunk — granted as predicted, without a hint of meaningful scrutiny.

As the sun sets behind Wyoming’s ragged peaks, one cannot help but wonder at the cost of such promises, what is gained and by whom, and what, seen and unseen, are quietly lost forever. Now, more than ever, the future of Wyoming’s landscapes — and the communities that depend upon them — rests in your hands.

If you care about balanced progress, transparent decision-making, and the true preservation of Wyoming’s heritage, make your voice heard. Attend meetings, engage with your representatives, and demand that every project be evaluated for both its promise and its price. Together, we can ensure that the legacy we leave is one born not of convenience, but of genuine stewardship.