Getting arrested at a government meeting to protest the wanton destruction of Planet Earth makes for great television. There’s that super-cool sense of nobility in cause, yelling truth to power, sacrificing for the greater good and, of course, the mugshot for posterity.

It doesn’t accomplish much, though. The handful of protesters arrested during this week’s Land Use Regulatory Commission hearing only delayed Plum Creek’s plans for Moosehead Lake by a few minutes. They spoke their peace when it was least effective, but offered maximum exposure.

If this sounds harsh, tough. We’re losing patience for demagogues of all political stripes, those who prefer to scream against everything, instead of doing the proverbial “heavy lifting” necessary to make smart, practical, sensible progress.

This is the less glamorous side of the public process. Interminable meetings, discussions, debates and, gosh, compromises, to ensure problems are solved and fears are assuaged. This happened with Plum Creek: its four-year sojourn toward approval of its development plans in the North Woods spurred perhaps the largest land conservation deal ever in the United States.

Negotiation brought this about, not confrontation. A commitment to working within the channels of authority to achieve mutual benefit. This has made Plum Creek’s proposal better for Maine and its wild lands.

There’s another chance to benefit Maine’s territories this week.

Public hearings are scheduled in Portland, Augusta and Presque Isle about the Comprehensive Land Use Plan, also known by the clunky acronym CLUP, for Maine’s 10 million-plus acres of Unorganized Territory. Although not a binding document, the plan is the guiding force for future development, use and protection of Maine’s natural resources.

It’s worth paying attention to; the last time this plan was reviewed, it was 1997, a lifetime ago in the rapidly changing landscape of the “UT.” Twelve years ago, the North Woods were still known as the paper plantations and public access was assured through the historic respect of Mainers for the land.

Things are changing, however. The paper lands are gone, replaced by private landowners like Plum Creek and others whose interests are different. The assumption of access for recreation shouldn’t be considered automatic. And camps in the UT are evolving from the rustic to the palatial, triggering concerns about utility service, roads and environmental effects. 

There’s nothing sexy about hearings for a planning document. Attending one won’t likely get your picture on television. It is mundane. It is also tremendously important.

Drafts of the plan are available online. At first review, it seems to strike a good balance between the pressures of development and conservation. It also recognizes that it’s high time for determining where in the UT further development is warranted, and where it should be dissuaded.

One area where it skimps, however, is on the makeup of its governing body — LURC. The days of having one, smallish government agency be responsible for the management of 10 million acres of territory are over. The future demands on the UT require the services of a more robust regulator. Or, many regulators. County governments, for instance, with tracts of the UT within their borders could easily assist or augment LURC’s duties in a rational way.

These are the discussions that need to happen about the North Woods and the rest of unorganized Maine. Real progress toward its protection for future generations comes in smart planning, not the screaming of protest.

It is almost poetic that as one major issue for the UT concludes, the next is beginning. Any leftover fervor for the fight should go into this plan.

The fate of the North Woods could depend on it.

[email protected]