The Bill That Backfired: How Attempted Public Land Sales Destroyed Jason Chaffetz's Political Career
A warning to all politicians who vote for the selling of public lands
Do you remember Jason Chaffetz? No? That’s pretty much my point. (And if you do, you probably know where I’m going with this.)
Once one of the rising stars of the Republican Party, he’s now nothing more than a nearly forgotten footnote in U.S. political history. So, what happened?
Chaffetz eventually torpedoed his entire political career by attempting what’s arguably the most unpopular move in all of U.S. politics—selling public lands.
In the early days of 2017, newly re-elected Utah Congressman Jason Chaffetz strode into the 115th Congress with confidence, visibility, and ambition.
As chair of the House Oversight and Government Reform Committee, he had made a national name for himself investigating Hillary Clinton’s emails and posing as a watchdog of federal waste.
But within a matter of months, Chaffetz’s once-promising political trajectory had collapsed. By spring, he announced he would not seek re-election. By summer, he was gone from Congress.
In less than six months, he had managed to destroy his own career.
There were several factors in Chaffetz’s rapid unraveling—public backlash over healthcare remarks, controversies about his handling of investigations, and broader political fatigue.
But one issue in particular sparked a political firestorm that he never fully recovered from: his attempt to sell off 3.3 million acres of public lands. (Does that sound familiar?)
It was a bold move—and a spectacular miscalculation.
The Bill That Lit the Fuse
In January of 2017, Chaffetz introduced H.R. 621, a bill that would have ordered the federal government to “dispose of” over three million acres of federally-managed public land in ten western states.
The bill was rooted in a controversial idea long cherished by some conservatives and libertarians: that the federal government should divest itself of the vast tracts of land it owns in the West, returning them to state or private control in the name of “local control” and economic development.
Chaffetz and his allies argued that the lands were “unused” and that their sale would help balance the budget or spur private enterprise. But to millions of Americans who cherish public lands for hunting, hiking, fishing, camping, wildlife viewing, photography, and solitude, the bill was nothing short of sacrilege.
The reaction was swift and furious.
Conservationists, outdoor recreation businesses, and conservative sportsmen erupted in protest.
Social media campaigns under the hashtag #KeepItPublic flooded Congress with calls and letters. Hunting and angling organizations, typically right-leaning, denounced the bill. And perhaps most powerfully, thousands of angry constituents in Chaffetz’s own backyard mobilized against him.
Within a week, the congressman pulled the bill. In an Instagram post featuring him in camo gear holding a hunting dog, he wrote: “I’m a proud gun owner, hunter and love our public lands. I hear you and HR 621 dies tomorrow.”
But by then, the damage was done.
The West Turns on One of Its Own
The backlash Chaffetz faced over H.R. 621 exposed a deep and growing divide in the modern Republican Party: between extractive, privatization-oriented politics and a rising, bipartisan reverence for public lands.
That divide runs especially deep in western states, where access to federal lands is a way of life, a cultural identity, and, increasingly, an economic backbone.
Chaffetz misjudged that political landscape badly.
In Utah, where nearly two-thirds of the land is federally owned, outdoor recreation generates over $9 billion in consumer spending each year. Many of those who benefit from public lands—guides, outfitters, gear companies, breweries, restaurateurs—may lean conservative, but they depend on federal lands remaining open, accessible, and protected.
So when Chaffetz moved to sell those lands, he wasn't just stirring up environmentalists and conservationists. He was threatening the livelihoods of hunters, fishermen, ranchers, small business owners, and weekend hikers who made up a wide swath of his constituency.
Rallies erupted across the state, from Salt Lake City to Moab. Editorial boards rebuked him. Protesters showed up at town halls demanding answers—not just from Chaffetz, but from a whole slate of Utah Republicans who had supported the land transfer agenda.
The state’s own outdoor industry, led by powerhouse brands like Patagonia and Black Diamond, threatened to boycott Utah altogether.
Chaffetz, once a conservative golden boy, had become the face of an anti-public lands movement that few in the West were willing to support.
The Cost of Misreading the West
To understand how public lands became a third rail in western politics, it’s worth considering both history and culture.
Federal lands in the West include national parks, forests, wildlife refuges, and Bureau of Land Management (BLM) territory.
Many were set aside in the late 19th and early 20th centuries under presidents like Theodore Roosevelt, in response to rampant exploitation of natural resources. These lands are held in trust for all Americans, to ensure long-term access, conservation, and multiple use.
While land-use debates have always existed—especially in states like Utah and Nevada, where resentment of federal oversight runs deep—there is a growing consensus that selling off these lands is political suicide.
The swift and powerful backlash against Chaffetz proved just how deeply people care about access to public lands, regardless of party.
Chaffetz didn’t get the memo. Or perhaps he thought his anti-Clinton crusading would shield him. But it didn’t.
The Bigger Picture: A New Kind of Political Power
What happened to Chaffetz in 2017 was a watershed moment for public lands politics. It marked the first time a powerful congressional figure saw his career unravel—at least in part—because of a direct attack on public land ownership.
It was also one of the first major tests of a new, nimble generation of public lands defenders.
Groups like Backcountry Hunters & Anglers, the Theodore Roosevelt Conservation Partnership, National Wildlife Federation, and even the gun manufacturer Remington mobilized quickly and effectively.
They reached across ideological lines and framed the issue not just in environmental terms, but in language of patriotism, heritage, and freedom.
“For Mr. Chaffetz, you’ve kicked the hornet’s nest, and the army is amassing. And I will put my money on the people every single time. The only thing you can do to make this right is to pull those bills back.” - Land Tawney, CEO of Backcountry Hunters & Anglers (January 27, 2017)
They knew that the real threat wasn’t just a bad bill—it was a precedent. If a lands sell-off could happen quietly under Chaffetz’s leadership, it could happen anywhere.
And their success changed the calculus. Public lands became a mobilizing force. Politicians started thinking twice. Outdoor companies realized their economic clout could be political too. Public lands rallies in Salt Lake City, as well as other places, became flashpoints for civic engagement.
The fact that all of this unfolded in a red state like Utah—and over a bill introduced by a Republican—made the message even more powerful.
Exit Stage Right
By the time Chaffetz announced his decision to leave Congress in May 2017, he cited family reasons and a desire to enter the private sector.
He had also been under scrutiny for downplaying Trump administration ethics questions while aggressively pursuing those of the previous administration. His approval ratings had slipped, and his town halls had become battlegrounds.
But it’s impossible to understand his fall from grace without acknowledging the storm that H.R. 621 unleashed.
The episode exposed not just a tactical error, but a failure of vision. Chaffetz had mistaken federal lands as ideological abstractions—budget items to cut, assets to liquidate. His constituents saw them as birthrights.
He believed he could win political points by crusading against “big government.”
Instead, he alienated one of the most passionate, bipartisan, and organized coalitions in American politics: those who believe that public lands should remain public.
A Warning for Current and Future Politicians
Jason Chaffetz’s rise and fall are more than a personal story—they’re a cautionary tale for anyone who underestimates the political power of public lands.
In an era of deep division, federal lands remain one of the few unifying ideas in American life. They represent freedom, tradition, self-reliance, and shared stewardship. They are not just lines on a map—they are the places where people fish with their kids, ride horses, photograph sunsets, and find solitude.
Politicians, of whatever party, who ignore that reality do so at their own peril.
Any lawmaker who considers introducing a bill to “dispose of” the people’s land might want to remember Jason Chaffetz. He thought he could quietly pass a bill to sell three million acres of public lands.
Instead, he lit a fire he couldn’t control.
And that fire burned down his political career in a matter of months.
Let this be a warning to all politicians who vote for the selling of public lands.
Especially the Senators who are actively attempting this—Mike Lee (R-UT) and Steve Daines (R-MT), the latter of whom has repeatedly claimed to oppose public lands sales—are encouraged to think twice about pushing this through Congress.
Let’s remind them that—even though they might be feeling high and mighty in their Washington, D.C. offices—they’re nothing more than public servants. They’re supposed to work for the American public, not for private entities, donors, or sponsors.
And when they no longer serve the public, the next election will remove them from office.
Let’s remind them, these public servants, that selling off public lands is not in the public interest. That this is a hill many, many, many people are willing to die on—including, and especially, conservative outdoorspeople.
Let’s make it clear to them that selling public lands would be a gigantic blunder. Just like the fate of Jason Chaffetz shows.
For the record: Mike Lee isn’t up for reelection until 2028, but Steve Daines’ political career could be over much sooner. He’s up for reelection as soon as 2026.
Here’s How to Take Action to Protect Public Lands
There are a number of easy and convenient ways to voice your opposition to the selling of public lands. Especially :
Call your senator at 202-224-3121.
Contact your senator via 5calls.org.
Fill out the “Stop the Senate’s Plan to Sell Off Public Lands” form provided by Outdoor Alliance.