In a rare display of institutional sanity, the Vermont Supreme Court just told a coalition of professional wildlife worriers and their legislative allies to pound sand. In what is a significant victory for evidence-driven conservation, the ruling upholds the state's new coyote hunting and trapping regulations, affirming that science, field experience, and basic competence beat performative compassion and bureaucratic nitpicking.
This whole saga started in 2022 when Vermont lawmakers passed bills requiring the Fish and Wildlife Board to modernize rules for hunting coyotes with dogs, which was previously unregulated in the state, and update trapping best management practices. At the time, a temporary moratorium on hounding went into effect until the adults in the room could write something reasonable. The Board eventually delivered with science-informed regulations, including GPS collars for dogs, permitting requirements, defined seasons, and sensible trap setbacks with exemptions for water and ice sets.
Predictably, the Legislative Committee on Administrative Rules (LCAR) objected to portions of the rules, and sided with the usual nonprofit suspects (Protect Our Wildlife and friends) who went ahead and decided the rules weren’t restrictive enough. They claimed the "control" definition via GPS wasn’t strict enough (pushing for dogs in sight at all times), quibbled over the public trail definition, and challenged the water/ice exemptions. It wasn’t long before a laundry list of lawsuits followed, aiming to keep the moratorium in place and invalidate key provisions.
Thankfully the Supreme Court wasn’t buying it and, on appeal, sided decisively with the Fish and Wildlife Department. In its June decision, the justices ruled the Board’s regulations consistent with legislative intent and grounded in evidence. In the end, they upheld the practical definitions of dog control via technology and training, reasonable public trail setbacks, and the water/ice exemptions that allow effective management of species like beaver without unnecessary restrictions.
“People feel very passionate about these issues, which I think is a good thing. They don’t advocate for resources that they don’t know and love,” said Catherine Gjessing, general counsel for the Vermont Agency of Natural Resources.
This outcome should serve as a reminder (and perhaps a precedent) that sound biology and field experience guide policy, not pressure from well-funded activist organizations that often push toward de facto bans on sustainable practices.
Courts occasionally remembering that agencies staffed with experts should get some deference (when they earn it) is a small but important bulwark against the administrative state being hijacked by whoever shouts loudest at committee meetings. The ruling also reinforces that legislative oversight committees aren’t supreme overlords — they review, they don’t rewrite science by fiat.
Cases like this matter well beyond the state of Vermont. Across North America, predator management is up against increasing challenges from urbanized voices disconnected from rural realities. When courts affirm agency expertise over committee objections influenced by advocacy groups, it strengthens the foundation for conservation that actually works.
In an era where every rural tradition is under cultural siege, this case serves as something of a refreshing win where science and tradition continue to hold the line.
