The Great Lithium Land Grab, Or

How to Rob the Public Without Them Noticing

It would appear that neither the stalwart defenders of American sovereignty in the DOGE team nor President Trump himself have caught wind of the latest scheme brewing in the sagebrush-dotted stretches of Esmeralda County. And one must ask, with a touch of astonishment—why, pray tell, is the great and honorable State of Nevada not throwing itself bodily in the way of this relentless march toward lithium land barony?

The Bureau of Land Management, in its infinite wisdom and bureaucratic beneficence, has extended a most magnanimous invitation to the public—to voice their opinions, fears, and perhaps even their bewildered outrage—regarding the proposed expansion of a lithium mine near Silver Peak. The mine, already sprawling across 6,462 acres, including 548 acres of land belonging to We the People, is poised to balloon further.

If approved, an additional 1,596 acres—1,053 snatched from the public domain—will be handed over for corporate excavation.

The fortunate beneficiary of this generosity is Albemarle Corporation, which, if permitted, will proceed to construct transfer pump stations, lay down pipelines, fashion brine ponds of dubious description, and drill additional wells—all in pursuit of that gleaming white gold of the 21st century: lithium. The BLM, with a straight face, also announces that it may consider bestowing retroactive blessings upon certain facilities that have already sprung up without prior authorization—a remarkable demonstration of bureaucratic forgiveness if ever there was one.

But fear not!

The public, that grand and indispensable participant in democratic governance, will be granted the privilege of attending not one but two virtual public meetings at the highly convenient hours of 2 p.m. and 5 p.m. on March 18, where the good people may listen, nod thoughtfully, perhaps even scratch their heads in dismay—but they may not, under any circumstances, voice their comments during the meetings. One must assume that the BLM believes discourse is best as silent contemplation rather than pesky public input.

And so, dear reader, the question remains: Why does Nevada, that mighty and untamed land of rugged independence, allow itself to become a patchwork quilt of corporate dominion? If the State is not bothered by the rapid dismemberment of its lands, one wonders who, if anyone, will be left to object when there is nothing left to claim but the dust.