More and more frequently, words and phrases that sound pleasant to the ears of foresters—bioeconomy, circular economy, the “Green Deal”—are being heard from all kinds of trumpets. Yet, what management might look like under these new conditions remains merely a matter of conjecture…

The opportunities could indeed be vast, but there is no room for excessive optimism until the content of these new trends or initiatives becomes clear. What will it mean for landowners and forest managers? It is much like a Soviet-era gift pack, which contained one item that everyone desperately needed and wanted (and which was in short supply at the time!), bundled with something useless and unwanted—in other words, an item that was effectively unnecessary. Why such a sharp tone? Often, even in these “new times,” something unattractive or unnecessary is hidden “under or inside” the beautiful packaging. Furthermore, there are a couple of, to put it mildly, “suspicious” issues.

So: in 2021, the so-called nature census in Latvia is supposed to conclude so that the subsequent consequences can be understood. Voices from Europe are being heard clearly, urging that European-importance habitats in Latvia not only be identified but also protected, even though from the perspective of biodiversity, Latvia is significantly richer compared to a number of other EU member states. Although there are no official data yet, an outcry is already being raised that more than 200,000 hectares could qualify for European-importance habitat status. If forests of this scale are “withdrawn” from economic circulation, it will mean that the owners of those forests will not be able to work these areas (including their own land) with an axe or a saw, while timber industry workers can prepare for “price wars” over logs. A million cubic metres of roundwood will be left to rot in the forest, but… surely the state is rich enough, and a few million lost or uncollected euros in taxes is just a trifle! And then there is the question: will Latvia or the EU pay compensation for these additional restrictions? The Latvian state treasury has already suffered significant blows from Covid-19, and finding another tens of millions of euros for adequate compensation payments will be problematic. It is quite naive to hope that politicians will be able to find money for compensation to landowners if there is still no clarity, for example, on the financing for the new passenger train procurement, not to mention the missing funds for healthcare, education, roads, and bridges...

There are also several “nature lover” initiatives that, in the best-case scenario, can be used to “scare” foresters, but in the worst-case scenario, could be brought to life. For instance, nature defenders have collected signatures to introduce a silence period in Latvian forests from April to July during bird nesting time—in other words, timber harvesting would be prohibited. The parliament, being a political formation, may or may not respond to the call of its citizens—the voters. But the next Saeima elections are coming in 2022, and in this “beauty pageant,” the votes of well-organised nature lovers may be important to some. In such a scenario, a silence period in the forests cannot be called utopian. What do “nature lovers” care if such a three-month downtime turns heads grey and forces people to find ways not only to pay salaries to loggers but also to cover loan obligations for their employers? Will there be anyone left to work the harvesters after such a “lockdown-holiday”? Of course, one could comfort oneself that common sense will prevail, as nothing of the sort has been implemented in other countries—Lithuania, Germany, Estonia, Finland, Sweden, or Norway. Naturally, it would be very strange if Latvia introduced a silence period in its forests while neither its northern nor southern neighbours did the same; thus, such a decision would be veeeery advantageous for our competitors. An interesting conclusion? Not at all!

Latvia intends to measure the quality of life of its residents in its National Development Plan based on a bird index. In which other country would anyone want or be ready to measure quality of life by a bird index? It seems the highest bird index is found at rubbish dumps, but I have not heard of people clamouring to live there. The life index in a Latvian winter would certainly drop “sharply,” because, well, the migratory birds would head off to warmer lands. An exaggeration?! Hopefully, hopefully...

We should not forget the favourite and endless ditty of bird lovers: “How badly many bird species are faring in this country.” (Composer unknown) In order for our winged friends to have a better life, money is needed here in Latvia for research, which, as usual, “shows or will show an increasingly sad picture,” which in turn will mean new measures that often turn into yet more restrictions on economic activity. Those who call themselves experts will immediately “point out” the falsehood, because “in Latvia, so unfriendly to birds,” 40% of the world’s lesser spotted eagle population resides. Strange! Is it strange? No, it is logical! That, however, is not an argument for the “brotherhood” of bird lovers, who continue to hum the same old tune, demanding new restrictions on economic activity.

Surprising!? Not in the least! Here is just one example—Latvian forest owners are more strictly regulated (controlled, monitored) compared to their competitors in Scandinavian countries. A number of “all sorts of friends” believe: the state has not only the right but even the duty to interfere in forest management, at the same time preventing the owner from freely disposing of their property. This situation, however, does smell a bit like a complaint to the Constitutional Court or even the European Court of Human Rights.

In the corridors of European bureaucrats, an externally pleasant—heart-warming—dream is being crafted: to promote the processing of wood into timber products and only once the lifespan of these products has ended, to use them for energy. Initially considering this, Latvia should have at least several high-capacity timber processing plants where firewood resulting from the logging process would be processed into some kind of product (not pellets or other fuel wood products). In reality, this could mean leaving the firewood to rot in the forest because there will be no processing opportunities. Wood decay creates CO2; how will the climate impact be assessed in such a situation? Will the owners of such forests be forced (or become forced) to pay a CO2 tax (who knows if anyone will scrap the “polluter pays” principle)? Ah, yes, perhaps the “voluntary” wood rotters will not have to pay a pollution tax!

It may happen that in Latvia’s large cities and their vicinities, heating with firewood will be banned so that, in their view, “inefficient” stoves do not create air pollution. The delusions of a lifelong forest dweller?! Not at all! A few years ago, such an initiative was not just talked about, but attempts were made to “shoehorn” it into relevant policy documents (claiming Latvia has a special situation with emission sources because there are few large polluters but very many small ones, and therefore, stove users in large cities and their surroundings should be forced to connect to centralised heating networks). It is a good thing that the “pushers” of these ideas were stopped in time! But who can guarantee that such ideas will not recur? Especially in cases where local politicians tend to “pin” the adoption of unpopular decisions on “directives” from Brussels, thus offloading responsibility onto some eurocrat, while simultaneously protecting their own skin from the anger of potential voters and maintaining even small hopes of steering into the parliament building for another four years.

Nature lovers have interesting or even strange standards—if a private forest owner does something, it is a sin, a crime, and damage to nature, but if their own people or “our people” do it—everything is fine, and furthermore, any action is labelled a natural process. Just a few examples. The large (even giant) clear-cut in the territory of the Ķemeri National Park is like a fat full stop on the “i”: saying, what a forest owner or manager cannot do, a “friend of the friends” of nature can do on an area of nearly 300 hectares. Want more? Wood is alive, so why must it be girdled to perish? Such a measure was implemented in the Gauja National Park. Thanks to the vigilance of the public, a few years ago, deliberate—controlled—forest burning was stopped. The burners were somehow indignant at the attitude of the local natives, who in no way understood the “huge contribution” of forest fires to nature’s diversity. Strange: every year, forest fires in Latvia (unfortunately) are not a rarity—if anyone wants to be convinced of what happens after such a cataclysm and how it proceeds, it is possible to study it for years rather than deliberately setting fire to a forest.

Ah, yes, and there is also a desire to introduce a requirement that any clear-cut needs an environmental impact assessment!