Montana’s Prosperity Depends on Industry, Not Vacation Homes

A recent article published by Representative Llew Jones argues that Montana’s economy has “shifted” from natural resource industries to tourism, service work, and high-end real estate — and that our tax system and future economic vision should shift along with it. In other words, we should accept this new direction and reshape our economic policies and tax structure to serve wealthy newcomers rather than the working industries that built Montana.

I couldn’t disagree more.

Montana earned the name “The Treasure State” long before luxury homes and tourism brochures became our calling card. Our prosperity was built on copper, coal, timber, oil, gas, agriculture, and the hard work of the men and women who turned raw resources into real opportunity.

Yet today, some in Helena argue that Montana should lean even further into tourism, seasonal service-sector jobs, and tourists’ spending habits. That approach isn’t just misguided — it’s risky. It ignores how we ended up here in the first place.

Montana didn’t outgrow its industry — we regulated it to death. Federal agencies, activist groups, and layers of red tape choked off the very jobs that built this state. It became easier to construct multimillion-dollar vacation homes than to build sawmills. Our younger workers were left chasing short-term service jobs while the industries that once gave them real futures disappeared.

Our economy didn’t change because Montanans wanted it to. It changed because we allowed it to. It changed because we stopped fighting for our right to work in our own state.

Tourism is a fine supplement, but it is not a foundation. When the economy dips, tourism is among the first industries to suffer. We saw it during the 2008 real estate crash and again during COVID — travel stopped, paychecks vanished, and entire communities suffered. And today, a large share of those tourist dollars doesn’t even remain in our state; they flow to corporate owners with mailing addresses far from Montana.

But the bigger issue is this: a tourism-based economy cannot sustain Montana’s families, schools, or infrastructure in the long term. A resource-based economy can.

This is where Llew Jones’ argument truly fails. Building Montana’s future around ever-higher taxes on wealthy newcomers isn’t a strategy; it’s a gamble. Wealth tied to tourism, second homes, and luxury properties isn’t an industry — it’s a preference — preferences change, and markets shift. Those people can sell tomorrow, and many do whenever a state’s tax climate changes or another destination becomes more appealing.

When a state pins its tax base to one narrow, affluent class of property owners, it’s not “modernizing the economy” — it’s putting all of Montana’s eggs in one very fragile basket. That isn’t stability. That’s volatility.

A strong, diverse economy can include tourism. Still, its foundation is built on tangible production — industries that cannot be outsourced, relocated, or shut down based on a trend. Mining. Drilling. Timber. Ranching. Farming. Manufacturing. These sectors anchor families, support schools, stabilize communities, and generate year-round revenue because they are rooted in the land itself.

Montana’s natural resources are blessings, not burdens. God placed abundant mineral, timber, grazing, and energy resources beneath and around us. But instead of stewarding them responsibly and using them to provide prosperity for our people, we’ve locked them away behind red tape, activist lawsuits, and federal micromanagement.

And when we stop utilizing our resources, we don’t “protect” Montana — we weaken it. We turn Montana into a playground for visitors and a vacation haven for the elite, rather than a place where our children and grandchildren can build real lives and futures.

Montana doesn’t need to surrender to the “minerals to mansions” narrative. We don’t need to accept an economy built on postcards and property speculation. We need to reclaim the industries we allowed to be regulated out of existence and restore a Montana where hardworking families can build real lives rooted in real production.

Tourism may bring cash, but industry brings stability. Industry brings families and builds communities that last.

Montana’s future won’t be saved by catering to elites — it will be saved when Montanans get back to work. And that starts with real permitting reform.

We need a system that allows responsible mining, drilling, and timber projects to move forward without years of bureaucratic delay and red tape. Common-sense permitting reform doesn’t mean cutting corners — it means cutting waste. It means trusting Montanans to do the work safely, efficiently, and sustainably, instead of letting distant agencies hold our economy hostage.

If we want to rebuild Montana’s industrial backbone, we must make it possible to actually build again.