Using Disability as a Cover to Undermine Conservation

And here we go again — another attempt to use “disability access” as a cover to roll back conservation protections.

Senator Mike Lee and Representative John Curtis recently introduced the so-called Outdoor Americans with Disabilities Act. At first glance, it sounds like something worth celebrating. Who wouldn’t want to see more opportunities for people with disabilities to access public lands? The name suggests improvements like accessible water access at reservoirs, better adherence to Forest Service Outdoor Recreation Guidelines, or expanded access for Other Power-Driven Mobility Devices (OPDMDs) like adaptive bikes and Class 2 e-bikes.

But once you dig in, the reality looks very different.

This bill isn’t about increasing access. It’s about building more roads and bypassing the National Environmental Policy Act (NEPA), all under the guise of helping people with disabilities “drive farther” into protected areas. In short, it uses the language of disability inclusion to push an anti-conservation agenda.

There’s a long and troubling history of this kind of maneuvering — where the idea of “helping” people with disabilities is used as a shield to justify weakening public land protections. In my work, I’ve seen firsthand how this narrative is weaponized. The assumption is that if a policy claims to improve access, it must be good for the disability community. But accessibility and conservation are not opposites. In fact, they depend on each other.

Accessible trails, adaptive recreation programs, and inclusive outdoor spaces thrive in healthy, well-managed ecosystems. Destroying fragile landscapes in the name of access doesn’t create inclusion — it undermines it. It sends the message that the only way people with disabilities can experience nature is by driving over it, rather than engaging with it meaningfully and sustainably.

Yes, a few organizations that specialize in off-highway vehicle (OHV) recreation for people with disabilities have voiced support for this bill. But they do not represent the broader disability or conservation communities, both of which have made their opposition clear. Most of us recognize that this legislation doesn’t address the real barriers to outdoor access: inaccessible infrastructure, poor implementation of accessibility guidelines, and lack of funding for adaptive recreation programs.

As Anneka Williams from Winter Wildlands Alliance put it, “The proposed bill uses adaptive recreation as a scapegoat to further advance an agenda that favors development and unsustainable use of our public lands.” That statement captures the issue perfectly. This is not about disability rights. It’s about dismantling environmental safeguards — and using our community as a convenient excuse.

If lawmakers truly wanted to make outdoor spaces more inclusive, they could start by investing in what actually works. Fund trailhead redesigns that meet accessibility standards. Support adaptive recreation programs that already partner with the Forest Service and local parks. Expand training for land managers on implementing the U.S. Access Board’s Outdoor Guidelines. Those are tangible actions that create real, lasting access.

Accessibility and conservation should always work hand in hand — not against each other. People with disabilities deserve genuine inclusion in outdoor spaces, not to be used as political cover for policies that threaten the very places we’re fighting to protect.

Let’s call this bill what it is: a step backward for both disability access and conservation.