On June 23, Utah voters did something that hadn’t happened in modern state history: they fired a sitting Senate president in a primary. Stuart Adams lost to attorney Stephanie Hollist, an outcome that nearly everyone who studies Utah politics attributes to one thing: a hyperscale data center located in Box Elder County called the Stratos Project.

Now that the political dust has settled, I want to know, was the project itself actually a bad idea? What was actually being proposed? And was Box Elder County getting the raw end of the deal?

Below is the background, both sides’ most persuasive arguments, and then I’ll share where I landed after more research than I care to relive.

Some background

Sometime in 2025, Jason Chaffetz helped to introduce some Utah developers to his friend Kevin O’Leary, with a big, bold idea. Create a hyperscale datacenter in the middle of Box Elder County, powered by a $3.5 billion natural gas pipeline that was already sitting there.

Mr. Wonderful liked it.

So in January 2026, Kevin O’Leary met with Gov. Cox to pitch a hyperscale data center campus in Hansel Valley, a remote stretch of ranchland near the northern tip of the Great Salt Lake. The project, developed by O’Leary Digital and West GenCo, would span about 40,000 acres (although the datacenter itself would be less than 10,000 acres), and eventually draw up to 9 gigawatts of power from on-site natural gas plants. Utah’s entire statewide demand is roughly 4 gigawatts. O’Leary has said the buildout could eventually exceed $100 billion, with a first tranche of about $15 billion.

The approval ran through the Military Installation Development Authority, or MIDA, a state entity created to support defense-related development around Hill Air Force Base. Adams chaired MIDA’s board. Because MIDA has its own land-use authority, its involvement let the project bypass ordinary county zoning and public review. MIDA’s board authorized the project area with 100% property tax relief, and the applicable energy tax was cut from the standard 6% to 0.5%.

State law still required the county’s consent, and that’s where the public first got a real look at the proposal. On May 4, about 1,100 people packed the Box Elder County Fairgrounds; the three commissioners unanimously approved the two required resolutions while the crowd booed, chanted “people over profit,” and, at one point, was told by Commissioner Boyd Bingham, “For hell’s sake, grow up.” The commissioners left the room and broadcast their vote to the audience on a screen.

After that, quite a bit happened. In rough order:

• The water fight. An application to convert 1,900 acre-feet of ranch water to industrial use for the project drew nearly 4,000 formal protests, and was withdrawn. A second, smaller application drew about 700 protests and was withdrawn too. Developers say they’ll re-file with better hydrology, and that the campus will run closed-loop cooling using roughly 13,000 acre-feet of rights already attached to the land, of which they expect to consume 500 to 2,185 acre-feet a year.

• The referendum fight. A group of residents organized as the Box Elder Accountability Referendum (BEAR) filed to put the county’s consent on the November ballot. County Attorney Stephen Hadfield rejected the applications, ruling the resolutions were administrative acts under the MIDA Act and therefore not referable to voters. BEAR sued in 1st District Court to overturn that ruling; a separate nonprofit suit challenges MIDA’s code itself. Both cases are pending.

• The state’s course correction. Cox signed Executive Order 2026-03 on May 29, directing state agencies evaluating data centers to prioritize the Great Salt Lake, water, air quality, ratepayers, and public transparency. Days later, Adams publicly demanded a 75% cut to the project area, and O’Leary agreed to shrink it, first to about 20,000 acres and then, per O’Leary Digital, to a 10,000-acre campus.

• The June Primaries. Voters didn’t seem to feel that this reduction was enough. A Deseret News/Hinckley Institute poll found opposition to the project rose from 53% of Utah voters in May to 60% in June, with Republicans swinging from net-positive to net-negative on it, and only 24% saying the downsizing made them more supportive. On June 23, Adams took 34% in a three-way race against Hollist’s 43%. Commissioners Bingham and Lee Perry from Box Elder County lost their primaries too.

• O’Leary’s Chinese interference accusations. O’Leary went on national TV and claimed opposition groups were being funded by China — a claim he repeated across roughly ten media appearances. In June, he admitted he had no evidence for it. In July, the accused groups sued him and Fox News for defamation in Utah federal court. That lawsuit is still pending.

• The project lives on. The MIDA designation was unaffected by the election, and developers say they hope to break ground on phase one within a year, pending water and construction permits.

What critics of the Stratos Project are saying

• The physics of dumping this much heat and carbon into one desert valley are genuinely alarming.

• MIDA let a private developer bypass zoning, taxes, and the voters. That’s a governance problem.

• The State forced the project onto county leadership, leaving them with no good options to respond.

Robert Davies, a physics professor at Utah State University, told Grow the Flow that proponents' closed-loop and air cooling plans—meant to "reject the heat into the air—doesn’t eliminate the environmental issue.

“The thermal load from the proposed Stratos project is extreme. There is no way around the physics. This is the energy output of two-and-half New York Cities poured into a single confined desert basin, in a watershed that’s already in crisis. Of course it has effects. One of those effects is this: This facility imposes substantial drying on a watershed and ecosystem already in active collapse.”

In his preliminary analysis, Davies explained that “[In the daytime], elevated temperatures of 2-5 degrees Fahrenheit [occur] throughout Hansel Valley. This is nevertheless a significant increase. Nighttime is a different story [with] elevated temperatures of 8-12 degrees Fahrenheit. This is a very large impact.…. A permanent rise in nighttime temperatures of this magnitude... will essentially shut down this cycle. Condensation will not occur. This is the lifeblood of the ecosystem. The ecological impact resulting from the combination of elevated temperatures and suppressed nighttime condensation is likely extreme.”

In The Guardian, David Irvine, the attorney representing Alliance for a Better Utah and five Box Elder County residents in their lawsuit against MIDA, warned that the project could remove major decisions from local voter control.

“Under the Stratos plan, it would hold permanent, irrevocable control over public health, safety, taxation and land use across tens of thousands of acres of Box Elder County, with no voter recourse.”

Utah Clean Energy estimates the all-gas project could raise the state’s carbon emissions by 55% to 75%, depending on the system used.

Stephanie Hollist, the attorney who beat President Adams in the primary, argued the problem isn’t one project, but an agency with no voter accountability.

“What we’re seeing is an entity that has grown so big and has so many tentacles to unravel it will be challenging… We’re also seeing that MIDA is able to override land-use decisions and give developers benefits that a normal entity isn’t given…. There’s an energy tax benefit that is usually 6%. That was reduced to 0.5% for this project. Who is it that gets to make that call?”

House Speaker Mike Schultz placed a lot of blame on Kevin O’Leary.

“Kevin O’Leary spent his time lecturing Utahns instead of answering their questions. And it is a completely wrong approach. And I do blame Kevin O’Leary for this mess that’s out there, in large part.”

County Commissioner Lee Perry says the state backed the county into a corner where they made the only decision they could.

“Do I think that the data center vote cost me the election? Yes I do. Would I do anything different? … I wouldn’t vote differently, but I would push back against the state and make them come out publicly and tell everybody why they’re forcing it down our throat.”

What supporters of the Stratos Project are saying

• It’s a generational economic win for a rural county.

• America needs AI compute for defense and competitiveness, and this is the right place to build it.

• The scary claims don’t survive contact with the actual plan, and phased construction proves it.

The Box Elder County Commission FAQ page points to local jobs, better services, and the possible offsetting of property taxes (Box Elder County just had a 37% property tax increase last year).

“In Phase One, the county expects to receive $30 million in annual tax revenue. When fully built out, it could generate up to $108 million every year.

Revenues will first cover all county municipal services (like roads, police and fire). The remaining funds will be used at the county’s full discretion, and a portion of the taxes will go to local taxing entities, including the school district.

There will be thousands of temporary construction jobs. Once built, it will create 1,000 to 2,000 permanent jobs for IT workers, engineers, and administrative staff. These jobs will not just be at the data center, but will be needed for the power generation, manufacturing and other businesses and projects included in the project area.”

Gov. Spencer Cox, in an article with KSL, framed the project as part of a broader technology race with China and as central to our national security.

“We have an obligation, I think every state has an obligation when it comes to this space, to allow for these types of data centers to be built in their states. We have to do this. We can’t just say no and shut the doors and go home and let China win this technology race.”

On the environmental alarms, O'Leary says come look.

“Why not build it so people come and see it, like phase it in? And so you don’t build the whole thing. Remember, we’re permitted for seven and a half gigawatts. Okay, let’s scale that back. Let’s build a smaller amount and let people look at it, and let’s see if they like the jobs and they like what it looks like, and how much water it’s using, how much noise it makes, and how much heat it generates as opposed to building the whole thing,”

The Governor’s FAQ sheet says this water would actually result in more water flowing to the Great Salt Lake.

“The systems use only existing water rights attached to private property, which means the project will have lower net consumption than current agricultural or ranching use. This reduction in water use will create a net benefit to the Great Salt Lake watershed. Additionally, the advanced closed-loop system will result in less net consumption compared to traditional data center operations… ongoing water demand at the campus is projected to be similar to that of a large office complex, with most water use limited to everyday needs such as restrooms, sinks, and employee facilities.”

My take

• Winning the AI race against China is important, and this site is uniquely positioned to help.

• The datacenter is a genuinely exciting opportunity for Box Elder County, with some big “ifs”.

• Most of the environmental concerns will be reviewed before building. But the timing of the reviews is what caused backlash.

• I feel for the Box Elder Commissioners. I think that most of us would have made the same decision in their shoes.

If you don’t believe that AI is the future, China sure does. And they’re gaining on us.

They’re building datacenters across the country (without holding a single townhall if you can believe it), and they’re achieving AI computing results nearly as good as ours for a fraction of the cost, with lesser chips. Oh, and they’re banning our chips in their shiny new state-funded datacenters because, I must emphasize, they believe this could be an existential race.

And the U.S. is in real danger of losing. We need to build some shiny new datacenters too. But to do that, we need land, water, and an insane amount of readily available energy.

And surprisingly, Box Elder County might check all of those boxes.

Land ✅ Water ✅

Governor Cox claims that buying perpetual water rights for a closed-loop system might actually save water for the Great Salt Lake. And that argument might actually hold some water (har har). Once you’ve got enough water for the closed-loop cooling, you don’t really need much more. This looks like a possible win-win-win scenario where farmers gladly sell their rights above market prices, the land continues to be leased for grazing, and the excess water goes to the Great Salt Lake. Could this datacenter be a water conservation project in disguise? That’s the kind of deep-state back-door dealing I can get behind.

Energy ✅

This is where the match starts to get soul-matey. Box Elder County happens to have a 683-mile, 42” diameter steel pipeline running beneath it that’s absolutely packed with underutilized natural gas. So O’Leary Digital plans to build its own private natural gas power plant(s) on top of the line, which will then power the datacenter. Utahns’ electric bills stay the same, and America gets more supercomputing.

Pretty cool. And we haven’t even gotten into the county benefits.

Bonus County Benefits ✅

Box Elder County currently operates on a budget of $76 million per year. In phase one of the Stratos project, the county is projected to receive ~$30 million per year, raising their annual budget by ~39%. Then in phase two, they hope to reach $108 million per year. This would balloon the county budget to ~$184 million/year, while the county itself stays roughly the same size.

You’re essentially handing this rural county some resort town taxes. And if you’ve ever been to a resort town, you know those out-of-state tax payments are transformational. Better services. Better roads. Better schools. Better better better.

So come on, Box Elder residents would be certified dummies not to accept this deal, right? Right??

Maybe.

We actually have no idea. Because while all of this sounds perfect, and at least moderately plausible, we don’t have any studies to confirm it.

We don’t know what the closed-loop datacenter system looks like, or how much water will actually fill that closed-loop.

We don’t know how much of the purchased water rights were previously used for irrigation, skinnydipping, or just going unused.

We don’t know whether the valley will actually go up 8-12 degrees at night once the datacenter is complete (and by the way, if it does, there’s nothing we can do about it. There’s no “you’re allowed to heat up the valley by X degrees” permitting process.)

We don’t even know that the tax revenue numbers are accurate. Only $5.4 million is guaranteed.

And Utahns seem to have a problem with that.

I was struck by this sign a resident held up at the May 4 Box Elder County hearing. “Where’s the research?” Just a simple question. But I think it pretty accurately summed up where the resentment and anger of citizens is coming from.

The process here has been:

1. Grant irrevocable control of 40,000 acres to MIDA.

2. Persuade citizens it was a good idea.

3. Then do the research that proves it was a good idea.

It’s a bit like me persuading my wife that the new minivan I bought an hour ago was the right decision because it was a really good deal and she’s gonna love it and also we can’t return it because I already drove it off the parking lot and signed the paperwork.

Maybe she’d be ecstatic, love the color, and think it’s romantic.

Maybe she’d think I was just trying to sell her on a car that I really wanted.

I think that’s kind of how Box Elder residents felt.

Now, to be fair to the supporters, this was not a minivan. This was an opportunity to secure $108 million per year to the county. Utah’s leaders saw an incredible opportunity that they felt was time sensitive, and jumped on it.

Cox probably believed he was helping secure transformative revenue that would change the county for generations.

The County Commission believed they had been backed into a corner, and approval was the surest way to keep the project in check for their constituents.

And citizens believed that they were being written out of the decision process.

All three groups are probably right.

If I could change one thing about this whole fiasco, it would simply be to slow it down, and reverse the order of operations. Research, persuade, implement. If Box Elder county really is a uniquely perfect fit, then O’Leary Digital probably would have been willing to wait a few extra months to bring citizens along. It’s not like counties are lining up for datacenters these days.

But then again, that’s easy for me to say from my armchair in July. Our leaders were staring at a live offer. And if they’d missed it, Box Elder would be out a $100B minivan.

I mean hyperscale datacenter.

A Little Background

On March 11, the Department of Homeland Security finalized a deal to pay $145.4 million for an 833,000 square foot warehouse at 6020 W. 300 South, a property sized at approximately 24.9 acres about a ten minute drive from Salt Lake City International Airport. County records identify the seller as RREEF CPIF 6020 W 300 S, a Delaware limited liability company managed by DWS Group, the Frankfurt-based asset manager that was once part of Deutsche Bank and whose stock the bank still largely owns.

The price drew immediate attention. Salt Lake County’s assessor had the building and land valued at roughly $97.4 million, meaning the federal government paid tens of millions above that figure. It wasn’t an isolated case. A CoStar market analysis found federal purchases of ICE facilities to be 11 to 13 percent above the individual properties market value as an average across all purchases, with some properties being purchased more than 30 percent above comparable sales.

The Salt Lake City purchase was one piece of a much larger federal push. DHS’s plan called for eight large scale detention hubs around the country, each meant to hold 7,000 to 10,000 people, backed by sixteen smaller regional processing sites, at an estimated cost of $38.3 billion. Congress had separately approved about $45 billion for detention expansion nationwide.

Neither Mayor Erin Mendenhall’s office nor Governor Spencer Cox’s office was aware of the purchase before it closed. Cox himself was not entirely opposed to the concept. He had previously expressed interest in hosting an ICE facility in Utah, arguing it would relieve logistical issues at the detention center in Las Vegas that regularly runs over capacity. Days after the sale closed, Mendenhall sent a letter to a top ICE official requesting an urgent meeting. Salt Lake County Mayor Jenny Wilson said she was “deeply disturbed“ to learn of the purchase.

At the federal level, in late March, Markwayne Mullin took over as DHS secretary from Kristi Noem and inherited the warehouse program she had put into effect. Testifying before Congress in June, Mullin was candid about the results of his review. “There’s some [warehouses] that just, quite frankly, probably won’t work,” were his comments on the situation, adding that some due diligence steps may not have been completed before the purchases went through. Around the same time, the DHS Office of Inspector General opened an audit examining whether the agency had bought the buildings in a cost effective manner.

The legal dispute began on June 8, when Salt Lake City and Salt Lake County filed a federal lawsuit against DHS and ICE, naming Mullin along with ICE and its acting director as defendants. The complaint accuses the agencies of going around the environmental review processes required before converting a warehouse of that size. Among the specifics, ICE reportedly wrote “TBD” on a city utility application asking how much water and sewer capacity the site would need. Mendenhall’s take on this was that the facility “has no place in Salt Lake City,” citing the city’s limited water supply and the strain a facility of that size would put on public infrastructure.

By early summer, NBC News reported that officials were pausing further warehouse purchases while deciding what to do with the ones already acquired, and later reporting indicated the department was weighing selling or transferring at least seven of the eleven properties to other federal agencies, with Salt Lake City’s warehouse reportedly among them. DHS has not confirmed a final decision publicly. A department spokesperson told reporters the agency is focused on removing dangerous criminals quickly rather than housing people in detention for long periods “at the taxpayer’s expense,” and as of the most recent reporting, city officials said they had received no formal notice of a sale or transfer.

What critics of the detention center are saying

• The process may have violated federal law by not completing environmental review or consulting local government.

• The proposed scale could overwhelm local systems. City officials cite water, sewer, public-safety, traffic, health and air-quality concerns.

• The inflated purchase price and fuzzy paperwork raise questions about due diligence.

Salt Lake City Mayor Erin Mendenhall, whose administration would be responsible for many local services affected by the project, said:

“This kind of facility has no place in Salt Lake City, not only due to its inhumane nature but also because of our limited water supply, the increased strain on public utilities systems, and the potentially drastic public health and safety impacts it would have on our residents. Salt Lakers are legally entitled to public review and reasoned decision making on major actions by the federal government, and it is my responsibility as Mayor to defend these rights.”

Salt Lake County Mayor Jenny Wilson joined the lawsuit on behalf of the county.

“The proposed facility is a dire threat to the very essence of our community values. It would overwhelm the infrastructure in the region, harm area businesses, and strain public safety and public health resources. The Federal Government did not notify nor consult with local officials, including myself.”

Sen. John Curtis, a Utah Republican and former Provo mayor, criticized the process even though his party supports stronger immigration enforcement.

“The decision to move forward with this facility via back-door negotiations – bypassing input from local leaders – is shortsighted and likely counterproductive to supporting the strategic growth and long-term infrastructure plans of Salt Lake City's west side.”

Brent Ward, an attorney for Uproar Utah, argues that the objection is broader than neighborhood resistance.

“We're not claiming that we just don't want this in our backyard. This is insane. Period. No matter what.” His group's position is that warehouse-scale detention is an inappropriate way to hold people, regardless of where the building is located.”

What supporters of the detention facility are saying

• This helps solve Utah’s regional detention-capacity problem.

• Dedicated space could reduce transfers and relieve pressure on local jails.

• Federal ownership could create jobs and long-term capacity.

Gov. Spencer Cox has supported the idea of federal detention capacity in Utah, though he’s expressed concern with the way this situation has been handled.

“When this sale went through, we were not given any notice. No members of our congressional delegation were given any notice. No locals were given any notice. That’s, I think, a little frustrating for everyone. We have millions of people here that should not be here. And that means we have to figure out a way to get them back, which means there has to be a detention facility. Now, there’s a right way to do that and a wrong way to do that.”

Rep. Matt MacPherson, a Republican whose West Valley City district borders the site, has argued that additional federal space could ease pressure on county jails.

"I see it as a jail issue. Our jails are overcrowded, and if we have a facility where people who are being held on immigration violations can be housed instead of taking up county jail beds, that helps local law enforcement and public safety."

ICE argues that a network of government-controlled regional hubs could move people through immigration proceedings and removal more efficiently than a patchwork of contracts and long-distance transfers.

“The facility would fully comply with regular detention standards… its construction and operation would create nearly 10,000 jobs, contribute $1.1 billion to the gross domestic product and generate over $238.7 million in tax revenue.”

Utah Sheriffs Association President Tracy Glover shows why the disagreement is not simply pro-enforcement versus anti-enforcement.

“The goal of the sheriffs is just to achieve an efficiency with law enforcement in general – public safety, community safety in general, and so, to the extent we can be partners with ICE, I think we're willing to do that on a limited basis.”

My take

• The need for this facility appears legitimate. But the way this purchase was handled raises serious concerns.

• Concerns about local infrastructure and water use are fair, particularly during an ongoing regional drought.

• The federal government could have made meaningful progress on detention capacity had it worked collaboratively and in good faith with local leaders.

• Even if DHS ultimately sells the property, taxpayers could still be left absorbing millions of dollars in losses.

When I first started looking into this, it felt like a circus. But the more I dug into the story, the more I came to the conclusion that this facility is not necessarily a bad idea. In fact, I’d argue that additional detention capacity is absolutely necessary if the federal government intends to enforce immigration law and deport people humanely. Right now, detention facilities across the West are overcrowded, forcing detainees to be transported long distances to find available bed space. That’s not good for law enforcement, local communities, or the people being detained.

A detention facility in Utah may solve a lot of these problems. Which is exactly why it’s so frustrating to see how DHS handled this entire project.

The Department of Homeland Security wanted to increase a warehouse’s water use from 5,600 gallons per day to potentially 1 to 2 million gallons per day, without meaningfully involving local leaders before purchasing the property. Instead of bringing state and local officials into the planning process from the beginning, DHS appears to have assumed it could sort those details out afterward. That approach has left everyone further away from solving the detention capacity problem while potentially costing taxpayers tens of millions of dollars.

Of those local leaders, Gov. Cox was portrayed as a supporter of the detention center. I initially thought he’d embraced this specific, badly executed plan out of party loyalty. Reading his actual statements, I think that’s not quite right. He’s consistently argued that forcing Utah, Idaho, and Montana to funnel detainees to an already overwhelmed facility in Las Vegas is a logistical nightmare. His frustration about being left completely in the dark reads less like political posturing and more like someone blindsided by a federal agency that failed to coordinate with the people who know their communities best.

And it wasn’t just local officials raising concerns. DHS itself now appears to be reaching many of the same conclusions. There are widespread reports that the agency is looking to sell or transfer least seven of these warehouse purchases, including ours.

That may sound comforting to detention center critics, but it’s important to note that nothing has actually been confirmed. The city and county’s lawsuit remains completely active, the federal government still holds the deed to the full 47-acre property, and local advocates like Uproar Utah are rightly celebrating “with caution” until something is put in writing.

DHS refuses to comment publicly on the site, speaking only in bureaucratic riddles about “moving swiftly to utilize existing detention space” with local partners. Even if the agency ultimately pulls the plug, walking this decision back won’t be simple. Before the property can ever reach the open market, it must work its way through mandatory federal disposal procedures, including required screening under the McKinney-Vento homeless assistance process. Real estate analysts also expect the eventual sale to come at a significant loss after DHS paid an estimated 49% above the property’s assessed value. If DHS ultimately walks away from this project, taxpayers will likely absorb the multi-million-dollar loss.

The frustrating part is that this outcome was completely avoidable. Building additional detention capacity is a worthwhile goal. But when the federal government works around, instead of with, the local leaders who know and understand their districts best, expensive mistakes are made.

And this was one of them.

Those of us living in Utah - or even just consuming media related to our state - have consistently heard state leaders promulgate the idea that Utah is special. And US News & World Report provides some substantiation to the claim, ranking Utah the best state in the nation for three years running.

Meanwhile, CNBC recently named Utah as one of the ten worst states to live in for 2026. The report highlights some of Utah’s weak points, including healthcare, childcare, air quality, and worker protections. Though the methodology employed to determine this dubious distinction can be disputed, it’s clear that Utah’s ‘special’ status is not a foregone conclusion.

Regardless of how residents or onlookers view our state and its component parts, it’s common to acknowledge it reflects some degree of singularity. Some hold it up as a shining city on a hill, an aspirational model of what a state and community should be. Others see our state’s idiosyncrasies as problems, tainting a geographically beautiful state

So, which is it? Is there a secret sauce that makes Utah special? Or is it truly one of the worst places to live in the nation?

What Makes a Place Special Anyway?

If you’re like me, you likely assume a place is special because it has exceptional features: the most notable architecture, the most exciting events, memorable geographic features, famous landmarks, or the best dining. In other words, a special place is one you’d take a vacation to because it’s a must-see value proposition.

However, at the end of the day, no one finds meaning in their lives just because they live somewhere deemed cool by culture.

Instead, studies indicate a place becomes special through repeated positive experiences within a place, driving attachment to it. Interestingly, people are attached less to a physical landscape and more to the experiences and relationships that occur there. Place attachment significantly improves well being. And social capital, the intangible value derived from interpersonal connection, is a primary driver of both place attachment and well-being. There is even tangible wealth to be found in and generated through social capital. Places tend to feel like home - to feel special - when they have high rates of volunteerism, trustworthy neighborhoods, stable populations, active civic participation, and frequent informal connection (via parks, churches, shops, and events).

Additionally, nature is a critical part of what makes a place special as it contributes to well-being by enhancing place attachment and social relationships. A 2019 study found that the longer hikers spend somewhere, the stronger their place identity and social bonding becomes. Notably, surveys show that Utahns avail themselves of the outdoors at exceptionally high rates, with almost all walking or biking around their neighborhood, 82% visiting city parks, 78% walking local trails, and 67% recreating on public lands.

The “Utah is Awesome” Arguments

• Utahns are consistently among the happiest in the nation, indicating some formula for success is at play here

• Utah’s demographics and social structures drive social connectedness

• Utah’s scenic geography lends itself to greater time outdoors, increasing place attachment

Happiness

Happiness is a difficult phenomenon to measure and quantify, let alone define, but WalletHub’s “Happiest States in America” ranking has consistently placed Utah amongst the happiest states in the nation over the past 10 years. In fact, the average rank during that time is 3.2, second only to Hawaii. The methodology has changed over time but this ranking typically evaluates economic, health, and social metrics to derive a figure.

Of course, while happiness is generally a byproduct of several key elements - meaning, purpose, and others - it’s not so simple that it can be universally indexed across a large population given a few socio-economic inputs. Having said that, WalletHub’s top-ranked states are in-line with historical rankings related to happiness and well-being published elsewhere. For example, Gallup’s well-being rankings from 2009 positioned Utah first, followed closely by Hawaii. This data was derived from interviews with residents of the respective states.

While Utah’s current ranking has slid to its lowest level in a decade (6th), the relative consistency of our state in these rankings indicates there’s a formula at play that’s built into the state’s very fabric. To much of the Western world, happiness is a sisyphean pursuit, but for many Utahns it seems to be part of a steady state.

Youth and Family

In addition to happiness, Utah’s people exhibit a vitality that’s difficult to ignore nor dispute. Part of this is youth. Our state’s median age is the lowest in the nation and a full 7 years younger than the national median. Utah’s birth rate, while falling and certainly nowhere near the historic levels used to caricature Utah’s families, is still among the highest in the nation. That young population, combined with a relatively high fertility rate, makes Utah’s birth-to-death ratio the highest in the nation. And our average household size is largest, with a greater share of married couples than any other state.

Fertility can reflect, in part, a belief that the future is stable and worth investing in. And children build social capital by increasing connectivity points in a community. Children can be social bridges who connect adults through school, sports, playgrounds, and general play. And adults who grew up with one or more siblings have significantly higher social capital than those without, showing that Utah’s current fertility rate and household size can perpetuate benefits for years to come.

Economic Dynamism

Beyond vitality, Utah exhibits dynamism on par with states that generate far more attention. It led the nation in real GDP growth for the last full year measured (2024). This is certainly driven by a number of factors, but there are plenty of states with pro-growth policies and educated workforces that fall short of Utah’s numbers. Looking deeper at what stands out from an economic perspective, it becomes apparent that our state’s entrepreneurship scene punches well above its weight.

Utah ranks 4th among states in VC dollars per resident at about $323 per person, behind California, Massachusetts, and New York and slightly ahead of Washington. Given the unique and historical advantages of these other states, it’s no small feat to be in such company. Most Utah entrepreneurs begin building their business by choice, not out of necessity, according to Kauffman data. And the average Utah startup creates just over 6 jobs within the first year, a rate higher than all but 3 other states.

Job creation matters because it increases opportunity while reducing stress. Social capital decreases when members of the community feel they’re participating in a zero sum game. And many of us know just how difficult it is to focus on higher-order social connection when you’re not sure if you can pay your bills or provide for your family.

Religiosity

While Utah’s relative entrepreneurial success may surprise some, its religiosity does not. If there’s anything that Utah is known for, it’s an association with Mormon Christianity. 76% of Utahns identify with a religious affiliation, the highest of any state. Percentages vary by study and methodology, but a large percentage of the state’s residents are members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. And while the state has become more secular in recent years, religiosity is still the norm.

It’s certainly in vogue to criticize organized religion and its adherents, but active participation in religious communities is associated with higher levels of social capital. Those who regularly attend religious services are more likely to volunteer in the community - and much of that volunteering occurs outside of a religious organization. Religious participation increases friendship, civic engagement, and trust.

Natural Resources

Finally, no examination of Utah’s notable characteristics is complete without highlighting its natural beauty. Utah has 5 national parks, tied for third most among US states. Collectively, these attract 11-12 million visitors per year, only exceeded by California. Zion National Park alone attracts more visitors than most US states. But it’s not just Utah’s national parks down south attracting visitors, it’s also world-class snow up north. Utah consistently ranks second among US states, behind only Colorado, and has arguably the best resorts in the country. No wonder our state is poised to host a second Winter Olympics in just the first half of this century.

Beyond beauty, our state is a rich source of the natural resources that facilitate modern life. As the nation’s number 2 producer of copper and only producer of beryllium and magnesium metal, it holds a crucial place in mineral supply chains. Throughout US history, Utah is the 3rd-largest metal-producing state by cumulative production value.

The “Utah Stinks” Arguments

• The prevalence of mental health issues undermines the narrative that Utahns are happy, or at least indicates that some are left feeling isolated

• Not everyone is equally valued here, with gender equality among the worst in the nation and many groups feeling unheard and powerless

• Persistent air-quality issues literally overshadow an otherwise beautiful state

Mental Health

Although Utah consistently ranks among the happiest states in the country, it’s also one of the states with the highest prevalence of mental health problems. In fact, Utah has the second highest rate of adult mental health illnesses in the country - behind only Oregon. Yet, access to mental health care in our state is among the worst in the country.

It should be noted that individuals can report strong life satisfaction, community support, and optimism while still experiencing depression, anxiety, or other mental health conditions. Additionally, the drivers of this are myriad and difficult to attribute to any one cause. But, clearly, this is a widespread issue to be cognizant of. And a lack of resources could leave some individuals feeling isolated.

Social Spending and Resources

Utah consistently ranks among the healthiest states, but this is because of active lifestyles, low obesity, and low smoking rates. However, care remains a problem as primary care and mental health provider shortages persist, leading to long wait times.

Additionally, limited childcare availability, rising costs, and shortage of workers makes childcare difficult, particularly for dual income or single-parent families. Utah also has no paid family leave requirement and no paid sick leave requirement, potentially exacerbating childcare problems for working parents.

These may impact social capital indirectly as they reduce opportunities for connection and increase feelings of isolation. Additionally, a lack of resources can foster distrust and resentment, neither of which are desirable ingredients when building community.

Gender Equality

One of the most discussed issues among others in the state is gender equality. Utah’s women are among the healthiest in the nation, with excellent maternal and physical health outcomes, low smoking rates, relatively low obesity, and favorable health metrics. Additionally, women in Utah have relatively strong educational and employment outcomes. However, Utah has ranked last in gender equality for nearly a decade due to large gender gaps in earnings, executive leadership, and political representation. Some women feel these rankings are downstream from broader cultural norms.

It should come as no surprise that gender inequality - or even perceived inequality - can harm the trust and cohesion that are necessary to build social capital. Simply put, none of us enjoy being devalued. And individuals and groups who feel they have been are less likely to participate in the communities and organizations that foster that feeling.

Air Quality

Those of us who live along the Wasatch Front are all too familiar with regional haze and low visibility due to pollution. Utah’s unique geography, combined with western fires, extreme summer heat, ozone, and particulate matter make our state’s average air quality one of the worst in the nation. As alluded to, the drivers of this are myriad, and only certain portions of the state are subjected to poor air quality, but it’s a serious and unsightly issue nonetheless that threatens to undermine the benefits of healthy living and overshadow the state’s natural beauty.

In-groups and Out-groups

It’s genuinely difficult to quantify this, but anecdotal evidence and persistent talking points indicate many groups feel ostracized, unwelcome, or powerless. This phenomenon is certainly not unique to Utah, but decades of dominant religious and political groups have surely had an impact on minority groups. And feelings of alienation are likely to carry over into civic life. This may explain trends in political partisanship within the state. More specifically, Utah Democrats and unaffiliated voters tend to be more consistently liberal than their national counterparts, whereas Republicans appear to have a similar ideology to their national counterparts.

In 2016, Democratic gubernatorial candidate Mike Weinholtz held a fundraiser at a performance many members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints found offensive. The play, titled “Saturday’s Voyeur”, parodied Church beliefs, policies, and its founder Joseph Smith. When confronted, Weinholtz dismissed criticisms, saying those offended “aren’t going to vote for me anyway[.]” More recently, Democratic congressional candidate Nate Blouin called members of the same faith “a bunch of bigoted assholes”.

Presumably, these candidates are outliers. But their mentality reflects a desperation that no longer seeks to build bridges, but rather “stick it” to those in power whom they feel have ignored or actively thwarted them. Resentment breeds an unstable and destructive brand of political engagement. Our leaders would do well to ensure all Utahns feel heard.

My take

• Utah undoubtedly has its shortcomings, but they are largely superficial

• Overall, Utah is special because of its tight-knit communities and kind people

So, is Utah special? Yes.

I’m a 7th generation Californian and have lived in 9 different states. I don’t have any childhood memories or visceral ties to Utah. But I remain here of my own volition.

There are plenty of things I’d like to change or improve in this state. For one, housing prices are now patently absurd. I’m entirely unmotivated to pay $800,000 for a fixer upper in Sandy (no offense to Sandy). That, to me, is not the American dream. Any American having that dream on a recurring basis should seek professional help.

I’ve also seen a lot of gatekeeping in professional circles. Larger cities have a wealth of top-tier, high-paying jobs. But they are still relatively hard to come by here, and those who occupy them are frequently threatened by any competition. I don’t have any data to back this up, and I’m not sure such data exists, but I’ve observed the goodwill normally extended to strangers suddenly ends when it comes to giving a hand up in certain industries.

Having lived much of my adult life in DC and New York, I’d love more sit down restaurant experiences and fewer fast casual chains. I also wish there were more walkable shopping districts, more distinctive communities, and less crowded canyons. Although, having said that last part, I’d also love to see nimbyism banished to the depths of hell. Wise stewardship of public lands is one thing; prohibiting newcomers from enjoying the same access you do is entirely another.

But these are all relatively benign. And none are universal. Furthermore, many of them are improving daily. New shops, restaurants, and communities continue to be built, enhancing the diversity and quality of experiences available to us. Better jobs and wages are coming. And Utah is building more homes than any other state in the nation, with a goal to build 35,000 new homes by 2028.

Social capital has recently fallen in absolute terms, as measured by Utah Foundation’s Social Capital Index. This is driven by a lower religious participation, less time with friends and neighbors, and more time alone. While this is a worrying trend, it can be reversed. And Utah still ranked #1 overall in relative terms last year - particularly with regards to community life.

Utah’s outdoor opportunities are unparalleled. States like California may have more diverse terrain and national parks, but it’s exceptionally rare to find those offerings right in your backyard. And how fortunate are we to be surrounded by incredible mountains as we’re cut off by a lifted truck with a Monster sticker on I-15? Here, there’s always a silver lining.

Ingroups and outgroups are undesirable and we should all work to cultivate and exhibit greater empathy and love. But conflict between such groups is primarily at the macro level, not at the micro. It’s easy to “otherize” an impersonal group or a label, but most Utahns are quite amiable and giving in their personal interactions.

At our best, Utahns celebrate success and the successes of others. This state is filled with people who are ambitious and hungry. And Utahns have a reputation for being hard-working and industrious. Perhaps these are reasons economic and social mobility in Utah are among the highest in the nation.

What makes our state special is not just one thing, but a collection of strengths born of Utahn’s fundamental desire to be and do good. I have personally been welcomed into hundreds of Utah homes and treated with kindness and generosity. Utahns are quick to give. They get involved. Many communities are filled with families who know and care for their neighbors. They are safe havens where households trust each other. Ultimately, people and connections have always been what makes Utah special.

Last month, the Tenth Circuit Court of Appeals revived a First Amendment case between staffers at the Utah Legislature and Bryan Schott, editor-in-chief and sole owner of Utah Political Watch (UPW). The largely overlooked case could shape whether independent journalists — like bloggers, podcasters, and freelancers — are treated the same as traditional media when government officials decide who gets access to press spaces and events.

Schott sued four legislative staffers after they denied him a press pass, a privilege he had enjoyed since the Legislature started issuing them in 2013. Officially, the staff said it was because he was no longer tied to a major news outlet. Schott says the real motive was more nefarious: They didn’t like his reporting.

Either way, the bigger question is whether either rationale was legitimate grounds for denying him the same access given to other journalists.

Some background

Schott has covered Utah politics since 1999, working for established news outlets including UtahPolicy.com, KUER, KSL NewsRadio, and The Salt Lake Tribune. He held a legislative press credential every year after the Legislature began issuing them in 2013. But in 2024, he left the Tribune and launched Utah Political Watch, a subscription news site where he serves as owner, publisher, editor, and sole reporter.

That’s when his credentialing problems began.

What does a credential actually get you? It gets you access to the press room, designated workspaces in the House and Senate galleries, media parking, and in-person access to press conferences and “media availabilities” with elected officials, where you can ask questions.

After Schott first inquired about getting a press pass for the 2025 session, the Legislature revised its credentialing policy. An earlier version allowed bloggers and independent outlets to receive credentials in “limited, rare circumstances.” The new policy flatly excluded “blogs, independent media, or other freelance media” and reserved credentials for journalists working for an “established reputable news organization.”

The dispute escalated in December after Schott published a story about an ethics complaint involving Senate President Stuart Adams. The same day, Adams called Schott out on X. The senator referred to him as a “former media member” and described his work as “part of a troubling pattern of neglectful journalism that undermines the profession’s integrity.” His post was reposted on the Utah Senate’s Facebook and Twitter pages before being removed.

When Schott later reached out to Senate Deputy Chief of Staff Aundrea Peterson for comment, Peterson echoed Adams’ criticism in a text exchange, quoting parts of Adams’ post word-for-word. She referred to Schott’s news outlet as a blog five times and used phrases like, “someone who claims to be a journalist,” “failing to follow basic journalistic standards,” and “lack of journalistic integrity.” Schott asked whether she would deny his credential application because of the Adams story. Peterson replied that she would follow the credentialing policy.

Schott applied for a press credential December 17 and was denied under the new blogs-and-independents exclusion. His appeal to House Chief of Staff Abby Osborne and Senate Chief of Staff Mark Thomas failed on December 26. According to the letter from Osborne and Thomas, leaving The Salt Lake Tribune meant Schott was no longer a member of the professional media.

On January 22, 2025, Schott and Utah Political Watch, represented by the Institute for Free Speech, sued Peterson, Osborne, Thomas, and House Communications Director Alexa Musselman. They asked the court to order the Legislature to give Schott a press pass and award him $17.91 in damages (a nod to 1791, the year the First Amendment was ratified).

Legislative staffers say the denial had nothing to do with Schott’s reporting. Their position is that press passes aren’t protected by the First Amendment. The passes offer special access to limited Capitol spaces and events, so the Legislature may reserve them for reporters who work for established organizations with editors and institutional oversight.

Schott says that explanation is a pretext. In his view, staffers changed and applied the policy to shut him out because they disliked his viewpoints and combative reporting style. He also argues that the rules give officials too much power to decide which journalists count as legitimate. And he says they weren’t applied evenly. According to his complaint, the Legislature credentialed reporters from Utah News Dispatch when it was only a month old, Building Salt Lake despite its inclusion on a list of urban planning blogs, and solo editor-operators at the Davis Journal and Utah Policy, all while excluding Utah Political Watch.

Growing tension with the Legislature

Even before he left the Tribune, Schott’s reporting had drawn some heated responses from staff and legislators.

In addition to the clash over the Stuart Adams article, court documents cite several examples from the 2024 legislative session in which Schott criticized the Utah Legislature and its leaders. One article accused House Speaker Mike Schultz of dodging questions. Schultz later messaged Schott, accused him of bias, and told him, “You used to be the best reporter in the Legislature. It’s sad how far you’ve fallen.”

In a separate incident, Schott posted on social media about legislative staff struggling to set up a backdrop, and House Chief of Staff Abby Osborne publicly criticized him on X: “Bryan, you are a d***! As a reporter, I can’t believe you think it’s okay to blast staff for doing their job. You could have got up and helped, but you chose just to tweet about it.”

Staffers maintain that these clashes had nothing to do with Schott’s denial. In their letter rejecting his appeal, Osborne and Thomas wrote, “Any claim that recent updates to the policy were intended to prevent targeted individuals from obtaining credentials is inaccurate and completely unfounded.”

Where things stand

A federal judge threw out Schott’s lawsuit on Sept. 29, 2025, agreeing with legislative staffers that a Capitol press pass gives reporters special access, not a constitutional right, and that Schott could still cover the Legislature through public meetings and records.

However, on June 30, 2026, the Tenth Circuit Court of Appeals unanimously revived part of the case. The judges said Schott had alleged enough to continue pursuing his claim that officials denied him credentials because of his reporting. They did not decide whether he was actually targeted or whether the policy was unconstitutional. Instead, they found that the timing, staff criticism, and alleged exceptions for other independent outlets raised factual questions worth examining more closely.

In a 47-page opinion, Circuit Judge Timothy Tymkovich explained that the Legislature’s argument that Schott could still access the same basic information did not automatically end the First Amendment question. By creating a credentialing system for reporters who want access to Capitol media spaces and events, the Legislature created a limited public forum or a nonpublic forum. Both are government-controlled spaces where access can be limited. But those limits still have rules. Under past court decisions, the Legislature may decide who gets into that forum, but its criteria must be reasonable and cannot discriminate based on viewpoint.

Tymkovich also raised questions about how “neutral” the credentialing policy really is. He noted that phrases such as “reputable news organization” and “professional member of the media” are subjective, giving legislative staff broad discretion to decide who qualifies for a pass and who does not.

What Schott’s supporters are saying

• Freelance journalists are journalists. The new policy is outdated and out of step with modern journalism.

• When the government opens its doors to the press, it cannot admit only the reporters it likes. Which is what happened here.

• Our nation’s founders foresaw this tension, and legislated to protect journalists’ press access.

In the Salt Lake Tribune, Caitlin Vogus, senior advisor for Advocacy at the Freedom of the Press Foundation, said the policy excluding all independent journalism hurts Utahns:

“Lesson number one: Freelance journalists are journalists.

“It’s a principle that dates back to our country’s earliest days. The founders recognized that freedom of the press included not just newspapers and books, but also the pamphlets published by individuals that fueled the American independence movement. . . .

“Maybe lawmakers don’t believe freelancers who publish online are journalists. But the Supreme Court disagrees. So does Utah Sen. Mike Lee, who last Congress co-sponsored a federal shield law that would have protected freelance and independent journalists from being forced to reveal their sources. Utah’s own reporter-source shield law also covers independent reporters.

“More importantly, excluding independent journalists reduces Utahns’ access to information. These days, people across the political spectrum get their news through social media, podcasts, newsletters and even blogs. But Utah’s new policy would bar everyone from Joe Rogan to Paul Krugman from receiving a press credential.”

Charles Miller, senior attorney for the Institute for Free Speech and lead counsel for Schott, said the Tenth Circuit ruling was a win for independent journalism:

“Today’s ruling makes clear that, when the government opens its doors to the press, it cannot then pick and choose who gets to walk through those doors based on whether officials like what a journalist writes. Utah’s Legislature revised its credentialing policy to exclude independent journalists right after a veteran reporter who covered the Capitol for decades and was known for asking tough questions started his own news site. Schott was the only journalist denied credentials.”

The Foundation for Individual Rights and Expression (FIRE) argued that this situation was similar to Representative Aedanus Burke trying to expel newspapers from the House floor in 1789.

“The House rejected Burke’s proposals based on what members of the First Congress believed the First Amendment required. . . . This episode demonstrates that members of the First Congress, who were uniquely well positioned to understand the original meaning of the First Amendment, understood the Speech and Press Clauses to preclude the government from denying journalists access to legislative spaces based on (or in retaliation for) the content and viewpoints expressed in their reporting.”

What critics of Schott are saying

• A press pass provides access, not a separate speech right.

• Schott could still cover public proceedings without one.

• Staffers’ legal team says the appeals court created a new constitutional right.

In a response to the original complaint, Tyler Green of Consovoy McCarthy, lead counsel for the staffers, asserted that a press pass is access, not speech.

“The crux of [Schott’s] argument is that because [he] is a reporter, he has a right of access ‘equal to the rights of other credentialed media representatives.’ That reasoning would invalidate any attempt to credential some media but not others. Courts have rejected [this]’ theory as unworkable, and for good reason: Every self-proclaimed journalist or reporter — from blog-site owners to TikTokers — would have the same right of access as established, reputable news organizations. That is not the law.

“A government’s distinctions among members of the press in a limited or nonpublic forum are constitutional so long as they are reasonable and viewpoint neutral. The Legislature’s policy clears those thresholds. It ensures that established media maintain sufficient access while maintaining substantial alternative channels for news gathering.”

U.S. District Judge Robert Shelby initially ruled against Schott, reasoning that reporters can still cover the Legislature without a press credential.

“Any reporter has access to the legislative session and is not restricted in the content of any potential publication,” Shelby wrote. “A media credential permits access to the press room, workspaces in the Senate and House galleries, designated parking and press events with elected officials. However, members of the public have access to the chambers’ galleries and may observe committee meetings and legislative floor debates. Additionally, legislative agenda items and other materials are posted on the Legislature’s website, and all official legislative action is livestreamed and archived on the Legislature’s website.”

After the appellate court ruling, staffers’ legal team argued the three-judge panel invented a new constitutional right.

“The panel crafted a new, freestanding “constitutional right” of “viewpoint-neutral access to a government-created forum” — irrespective of whether the First Amendment protects [Schott’s] intended activities. . . .

“But credentialed media have no greater access to government information than the public. ‘[T]he Capitol is open to all’ to ‘attend committee meetings and floor time.’ Committee meetings, legislative floor debates, agenda items and materials are readily accessible on the legislative website.”

My take

• Schott may be combative and abrasive, but the First Amendment matters most when the government is dealing with critics it would rather avoid.

• The timing, uneven enforcement, and vague standards make the Legislature’s policy look less like neutral credentialing and more like an attempt to solve the Bryan Schott problem.

• The rise of independent media is a return to the decentralized press culture the First Amendment was designed to protect.

There is something wonderfully American about this whole dispute: the government made a decision, a citizen cried foul, and now everyone has to meet in court and argue about the First Amendment. Whatever we think of Schott, the fact that he can challenge the Legislature and force it to defend its decision to exclude him is worth celebrating.

This is not a failure of the system. This is the system.

Before the Constitution and Bill of Rights, British and colonial officials were largely free to prosecute (or persecute) anyone they believed guilty of “seditious libel.”

Which is why the Founders wrote the First Amendment without much room for equivocation:

“Congress shall make no law . . . abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press. . .”

Does Bryan Schott have a track record for antagonizing people in authority? Absolutely. Has that made him enemies? Almost certainly. Have public officials complained about his tone, methods, and coverage? Repeatedly. Has his approach sometimes veered into the inappropriate? Many would say yes.

So what?

If the First Amendment protects only reporters that public officials enjoy dealing with, what exactly is it protecting?

About the staffers in question. I can understand the desire to be free of Schott. A quick look at his news site and Instagram, and I’m glad he’s never had a reason to post about me. It’s not hard to imagine some staffers quietly celebrating when he left The Salt Lake Tribune, only to find out that their less-than-favorite reporter would in fact still be at the Capitol, this time with his own outlet and no Tribune-imposed guardrails to rein him in.

I suspect staffers saw the credentialing policy as a quiet way to solve what they viewed as the Bryan Schott problem. The timing is just too convenient not to be deliberate.

Schott had been credentialed for years while reporting for established news organizations. Then, on Nov. 5, 2024, he told legislative staff that he would be covering the 2025 session for Utah Political Watch and asked about obtaining credentials. Less than three weeks later, the media team created a revised policy categorically excluding “blogs, independent media outlets or freelance media.” The document’s metadata dates its creation to Nov. 24.

There is also the question of whether the Legislature applied its new policy evenly. The rules exclude blogs, yet Schott’s legal team points to Building Salt Lake, which received credentials and appears to fit that description rather comfortably.

Charles Miller, Schott’s lead attorney, noted that the site’s About page once described it as a “Top 100 Urban Planning Blog.” By the time of this writing, “blog” had been replaced with “source.” The link, however, still leads to a list of urban planning blogs — an awkward detail for anyone arguing that the distinction is perfectly clear.

If staffers expected Schott to accept the new policy and move on, they badly miscalculated. What may have looked like a quiet way to avoid dealing with him has instead produced a federal lawsuit, mounting legal costs, and far more scrutiny than the original credential request ever would have attracted.

That is the fundamental mistake. The staffers appear to have been using the policy as a shield. Instead, its vague language left them exposed. Standards based on reputation, ethics, and professionalism may sound reasonable on the surface, but they leave ample room for personal judgment (and personal grievances) to creep in.

A stronger policy would rely on concrete, measurable criteria: how often an outlet publishes, the size of its readership, whether it produces original reporting, and whether it provides bylines, public contact information, and a corrections policy. Had the Legislature adopted standards like these from the beginning, this lawsuit might never have happened.

Clarifying the policy now would not only make room for legitimate independent journalists. It would also protect legislative staff from being dragged into the next avoidable legal battle.

But the larger issue is not just Schott. The Legislature had already been tightening access for independent journalists before he applied. Until the November 2024 revision, blogs and freelancers could still receive credentials, but only as exceptions to a rule that otherwise excluded them.

Attorneys for the staffers said the change reflected concern about a growing number of independent journalists seeking access. Even if that is true, a point Vogus strongly disputes in her op-ed, restriction is the wrong response.

“The Legislature should be celebrating the enhanced coverage that independent journalists bring to the statehouse and finding ways to accommodate them,” she wrote in The Salt Lake Tribune. “If the Legislature actually received thousands of credential requests — an unlikely prospect for a statehouse — that would be a win for transparency.”

The revised credentialing policy seems to reflect a broader discomfort with the changing media landscape. Newsletters, podcasts, small investigative outlets, and independent commentators have blurred the old lines between reporting, opinion, and advocacy. The traditional model was easier to define. It was also easier to manage.

Schott’s case tests how far the Legislature can go in drawing those lines. It had credentialed him every year since 2013. What changed was not his experience covering Utah politics, but his employer. He no longer worked for a large, traditional news organization.

Rather than defending journalism standards, the revised policy seems designed to preserve the old media model.

But independent journalism is not a departure from the First Amendment’s roots. It is much closer to them. When the Bill of Rights was ratified, “the press” did not mean a professional class of reporters working for large institutions. Anyone with access to a printing press could weigh in on the government’s choices, whether the message was supportive, hostile, or somewhere in between.

Early American journalism was partisan, opinionated, and messy. What mattered was not whether officials approved of a publisher’s tone or credentials, but whether people were free to circulate ideas and challenge those in power.

The rise of independent media looks less like the collapse of traditional journalism and more like a return to the decentralized press culture the First Amendment was designed to protect.

I agree with Vogus, Miller, and the Institute for Free Speech. Independent journalism deserves clearer, more objective credentialing standards — and more room at the Capitol.