Picture a map of the U.S. Identify those places with bountiful natural amenities, e.g., great views with expanses of open space, easily accessible waters, mountains, forests, and wildlife. Next consider recreational opportunities including hiking trails, ski areas, parks, and blue-ribbon fisheries.

Eliminate from your map those places with high pollution, congestion, and crime. Likewise, scratch out areas you would consider boring places to live.

Focus on places where you could be modestly prosperous and have access to good medical care and cultural activities. Add a good college or university.

Now consider your map. Your personal cartography shows a place at risk of serious degradation. When a place becomes highly attractive to many people, its very attractiveness erodes its qualities. Congestion, pollution, crime, and loss of open space threaten these locations.

As population grows and we become ever more wealthy, house and lot sizes ratchet upward and open space is consumed. Farms and ranches become "farmettes" and "ranchettes" with grown men playing on small equipment, stuff closer to Tonka Toys than Cat and Case equipment. (I also plead guilty to "ironitus", the irrational desire for toys with diesel engines.)

This result is neither inevitable nor beyond our control. It's possible to influence our destiny and reduce sorry outcomes. The solutions, however are neither costless nor certain. They require leadership, innovation, courage, and a sense of justice which trumps selfish, insensitive motives.

It is irresponsible to ignore or pretend away the strong economic forces removing land from agriculture. And it's tempting to use government to strip farmers of their rights to develop. However, we can reduce this injustice if we consider the well-being of those who spend their lives working these lands. Simply refusing them opportunities to sell their holdings for development is an uncompensated taking. Although I place an high value on open space, my preference doesn't trump fairness.

An alternative to 10-40 acre ranchettes gobbling up landscapes is high-density planned unit developments (PUDs).

I appreciate the appeal of ranchettes. However, many developments fragment habitat and disrupt wildlife corridors. They also decrease winter range and increase human-wildlife encounters and conflicts. Further, the extensive spacing fosters the spread of noxious weeds such as Dalmation toadflax, spotted knapweed, and Canadian thistle.

PUDs also fragment wildlife habitat but they hold advantages over ranchettes. PUDs, such as Elk Grove, a proposed 300-acre community in the Gallatin Valley exemplify "cluster" development. This includes undeveloped greenways as well as parks and picnic areas.Elk Grove would place nearly 300 residential units on 150 acres, leaving the remainder as open space. If these units were 20 acre lots, 6,000 acres would be taken out of agriculture.

Elk Grove would use a central water and sewer system, minimizing impact to groundwater, and provide fire hydrants. In contrast, sparsely distributed ranchettes rely on septic tank systems, which may contaminate groundwater. Many make no provision for fire fighting capabilities.

This ranchette versus PUD issue is relevant to all the attractive places on your mental map, e.g., the Bitterroot Valley in western Montana and the Ogden Valley outside Salt Lake City. The pressure on agricultural lands poses ethical and ecological challenges to the most attractive Western communities. Rejecting innovative approaches including PUDs, is both intellectually and ethically irresponsible.

The case of Lucille Donlan, the widowed owner of the 300 acres upon which Elk Grove could be built, illustrates these ethical problems. She leases the ranch to a neighbor, an excellent operator. Because it complements his family holdings, he pays top dollar. Yet, after property taxes, Mrs. Donlan receives only $13,000 per year. "I don't want much," Ms. Donlan says, "Just a condo in town where I can be close to my friends, my church, and my health club."

In an open letter to the Gallatin County Planning Board, she recalls the struggles of an agricultural life. Her family's investment lies in the "equity in our land…. My husband's last wish for me was to sell the property to someone who would do it justice through a quality development."

Because we live near it, Elk Grove's development would adversely affect my wife, Ramona, and me. Yet, given the mounting pressures on ag lands in our valley, such developments offer a preferable alternative to lower density sprawl.

(This column reflects my bias towards open space and agriculture. Both Ramona and I have spent the majority of our lives on farms and ranches. I am a member of the Gallatin County Open Lands Board and Ramona is on the Gallatin County Planning Board.)