Editorial: Call them what they are

It sounds so logical and simple.

Shouldn’t those men and women in turnouts, jumping from planes, trudging through the wilderness with axes and other hand tools they use to battle some of the most destructive blazes in history be called what they are? Wildland firefighters.

They’re not. Officially, under decades-old federal policy, they’ve been classified as forestry technicians, range technicians and even biological fire technicians. There’s one exception. When they’re killed in the line of duty they’re called firefighters, usually with the words “hero” or “brave” in the same sentence.

So why should it literally take an act of Congress to change those designations, which apply in the U.S. Forest Service, the National Park Service, U.S. Fish & Wildlife Service, Bureau of Indian Affairs and the Bureau of Land Management?

It shouldn’t, but we’re talking bureaucracy here — huge bureaucracy run by seasoned power players.

So Rep. Doug LaMalfa, R-Richvale, recently introduced a bill that would remedy the misnomer. It’s about time somebody did. Surprisingly, it’s not the first Congressional effort. A similar bill was passed by unanimous consent in 2006, but somehow got lost on its way to the Senate and never was adopted.

Casey Judd, executive director of the Federal Wildland Fire Service Association, has been working to get the language changed for two decades.

He contends that failing to acknowledge the firefighters with a proper title is a morale killer that has contributed to substantial exodus of trained employees to other fire departments like Cal Fire.

But the federal Office of Personnel Management says it’s up to the Forest Service to make the change, while in typical bureaucratic fashion the Forest Service points right back at the OPM and says it’s their responsibility.

Result? Nada.

Though Judd says he doesn’t think politics are involved, it’s a good possibility that the Forest Service is reluctant to make the change because of an overall federal philosophy that trusts nature to take its course on federal lands, including the vast National Forests of the North State. Fire suppression is kind of a last resort, as evidenced in the Reading Fire that exploded out of control in 2012 after burning and spreading through Lassen Volcanic National Park for a good two weeks. Before it was finally contained it had threatened Old Station and other populated areas nearby. Cost? $17 million.

LaMalfa agreed that the Forest Service philosophy — the relatively hands-off approach — “could be a subtext” to the refusal to call a firefighter a firefighter.

At the same time, the Forest Service is removing roads through public lands and setting up other barriers to good forest management, he said.

Land Management is a “fundamental issue” in the firefighters’ situation, Judd said.

It “has everything to do with a land management agency managing the largest fire department in the world ... it’s like having a municipal fire department managed by the parks and recreation department,” he said.

He contends the “huge chasm” between the managers and firefighters can lead to poor decisions on the fire line and policies that simply don’t make sense to someone without fire management training.

Those issues aside, a simple classification change shouldn’t be so complicated.

But it’s important to the firefighters who have battled their own bureaucracy for 20 years.

If the bureaucracies are unwilling to do anything to end this silliness, Congress should step in.

Once in a while it’s a good idea to step back and apply common sense to a problem.

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