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It really pains me to write the above statement. I have spent my entire career devoted to restoring streams, rivers, and watersheds to help recover salmon and steelhead.
We proved we could rebuild the “bones” of a river. So why, after three decades of success, am I saying it simply isn’t enough?
We have come a long way in restoring rivers over my 33-year career as a stream and watershed restoration expert, but it’s also clear that reaping the rewards of habitat restoration requires a truly holistic approach to recovery. I began as a fish habitat biologist with the Tulalip Tribes, focusing on forest practices in the Snohomish and Stillaguamish basins. In the mid-1990s, we were among the first to identify and repair blocking culverts to rebuild highly depleted populations of wild coho salmon.
Later, I collaborated with Dr. Tim Abbe to build some of the first engineered log jams (ELJs) in the North Fork Stillaguamish. The idea was considered radical at the time. Critics thought we were nuts for placing wood in large rivers. They were convinced it would all be washed away in the next flood. But we leaned on the historical record and the laws of physics; the wood stayed, and the vital holding pools for Chinook salmon returned.
Science and implementation evolved further on the Elwha River, where I worked with Mike McHenry of the Lower Elwha Tribe. Mike installed ELJs a decade before dam removal, and when the dams finally came down, those jams proved their worth by maintaining deep pools despite the massive surge of sediment.
Eventually, our work moved into the classroom and the library. Alongside colleagues like Phil Roni and Tim Beechie, I co-authored the book on river restoration and helped practitioners understand how reconnecting floodplains creates essential habitat for juvenile salmon and steelhead.
We proved we could rebuild the “bones” of a river. So why, after three decades of success, am I saying it simply isn’t enough?
Later, I collaborated with Dr. Tim Abbe to build some of the first engineered log jams (ELJs) in the North Fork Stillaguamish. The idea was considered radical at the time. Critics thought we were nuts for placing wood in large rivers. They were convinced it would all be washed away in the next flood. But we leaned on the historical record and the laws of physics; the wood stayed, and the vital holding pools for Chinook salmon returned.
Science and implementation evolved further on the Elwha River, where I worked with Mike McHenry of the Lower Elwha Tribe. Mike installed ELJs a decade before dam removal, and when the dams finally came down, those jams proved their worth by maintaining deep pools despite the massive surge of sediment.
Eventually, our work moved into the classroom and the library. Alongside colleagues like Phil Roni and Tim Beechie, I co-authored the book on river restoration and helped practitioners understand how reconnecting floodplains creates essential habitat for juvenile salmon and steelhead.
We proved we could rebuild the “bones” of a river. So why, after three decades of success, am I saying it simply isn’t enough?
Elwha Chinook Salmon seeking cover in a logjam
The Elwha Lesson: The "All H" Alignment
There are two reasons.
The first is my experience during the Elwha River dam removal project, which I’ve been a part of since 1999. I worked with several other scientists to develop hypotheses, monitoring plans, and study designs to track the fish and river before, during, and after dam removal.
I’m humble enough to admit that I didn’t know what to expect. My only real hypothesis was that fish would eventually flourish in the upper basin and that my daughters, and others, would one day be able to see those fish in their historic habitat. I learned so much through this large-scale experiment. Not only did they quickly move into former habitats, but their life histories changed – rapidly – particularly for O. mykiss.
Summer steelhead went from single digits to a peak of almost 1,000 in 5 years; winter runs and the number of steelhead life histories increased from less than 300 to over 2,500 and from 18 to 39, respectively, in just over 10 years. All of this happened while steelhead and life history diversity on the other side of the Olympic Peninsula, in rivers like the Hoh and Quillayute, were declining. Rivers with the same high proportion of protected, intact headwater habitat inside the Olympic National Park.
Why? Because in the Elwha, every lever was pulled simultaneously. A dam was removed (Habitat). Harvest stopped for over 10 years (Harvest). And hatchery practices were adjusted to minimize competition with the recovering wild population (Hatcheries). It truly was an “all H” approach where hydropower, harvest, hatcheries, and habitat were all aligned.
There are two reasons.
The first is my experience during the Elwha River dam removal project, which I’ve been a part of since 1999. I worked with several other scientists to develop hypotheses, monitoring plans, and study designs to track the fish and river before, during, and after dam removal.
I’m humble enough to admit that I didn’t know what to expect. My only real hypothesis was that fish would eventually flourish in the upper basin and that my daughters, and others, would one day be able to see those fish in their historic habitat. I learned so much through this large-scale experiment. Not only did they quickly move into former habitats, but their life histories changed – rapidly – particularly for O. mykiss.
Summer steelhead went from single digits to a peak of almost 1,000 in 5 years; winter runs and the number of steelhead life histories increased from less than 300 to over 2,500 and from 18 to 39, respectively, in just over 10 years. All of this happened while steelhead and life history diversity on the other side of the Olympic Peninsula, in rivers like the Hoh and Quillayute, were declining. Rivers with the same high proportion of protected, intact headwater habitat inside the Olympic National Park.
Why? Because in the Elwha, every lever was pulled simultaneously. A dam was removed (Habitat). Harvest stopped for over 10 years (Harvest). And hatchery practices were adjusted to minimize competition with the recovering wild population (Hatcheries). It truly was an “all H” approach where hydropower, harvest, hatcheries, and habitat were all aligned.
The Biology of Success
The second reason I no longer believe habitat is enough is because of my Doctoral research at the University of Washington. After evaluating recolonization data across Alaska, Washington, and British Columbia, it was clear that the biology of the fish was at least as important as the habitat.
By biology, I mean essential questions: How many fish actually return? Are they able to adapt to the new environment? To understand that process, I had to look at all of the factors that make salmon and steelhead so difficult to predict. What I found is: salmon and steelhead are like weeds. Give them a real opportunity and they will move into former habitats quickly.
However, if those biological elements, including sufficient escapement, habitat capacity, and life-history diversity, are not aligned, habitat alone cannot bridge the gap.
The second reason I no longer believe habitat is enough is because of my Doctoral research at the University of Washington. After evaluating recolonization data across Alaska, Washington, and British Columbia, it was clear that the biology of the fish was at least as important as the habitat.
By biology, I mean essential questions: How many fish actually return? Are they able to adapt to the new environment? To understand that process, I had to look at all of the factors that make salmon and steelhead so difficult to predict. What I found is: salmon and steelhead are like weeds. Give them a real opportunity and they will move into former habitats quickly.
However, if those biological elements, including sufficient escapement, habitat capacity, and life-history diversity, are not aligned, habitat alone cannot bridge the gap.
A Balanced Path Forward
We can recover salmon and steelhead populations in the Pacific Northwest if we protect habitat, ensure harvest and hatchery practices are compatible with wild fish recovery, and allow fish to express the life histories they need to adapt.
We can recover salmon and steelhead populations in the Pacific Northwest if we protect habitat, ensure harvest and hatchery practices are compatible with wild fish recovery, and allow fish to express the life histories they need to adapt.
Salmon and steelhead are remarkable animals. In our most intact remaining watersheds, if we over-harvest or create an over-reliance on hatchery production that truncates life-history diversity and reduces productivity, recovery becomes a moving target. The cold hard reality is that all the habitat restoration in the world cannot make up for the other pieces not working. Last year alone, Washington, Oregon, and California spent roughly $600 million on habitat restoration. While well intended, habitat restoration by itself will not produce a high return on investment unless all the H’s are aligned.
Engineered logjam on the Elwha River
This is not an indictment of hatcheries in every river. In highly altered systems that can no longer support self-sustaining wild runs, hatcheries may be the only way to provide harvest and connection with cultural heritage. And small-scale, well-designed hatchery programs can stave off extinction. On the other hand, we still have rivers with the potential for true wild recovery. In those places we must be careful not to let industrial-scale hatchery production mask the decline of wild fish or outcompete them for limited resources. We must be careful with our harvest practices.
Fortunately, we have clear examples that recovery is possible where habitat conditions and fish management are aligned:
- The Fraser River
- Pink salmon populations increased by 400% in two generations when fish ladders (Habitat), minimal harvest, and a lack of major hatchery interference aligned with improved ocean survival.
- The Elwha River
- Steelhead are thriving because they have been left to their own devices, and the hatchery influence was managed to allow wild fish to lead the recolonization.
- The Oregon Coast
- Over 160,000 wild coho salmon returned in 2024. That represents a 135% increase after managers prioritized wild salmon productivity and diversity by eliminating almost all hatchery production, greatly reducing harvest, and restoring important estuary and tributary habitats. They adaptively managed based on solid science. Oregon coho represent one of the truly successful recovery efforts in all of the lower-48.
Conclusion
To be clear, I’m not saying hatcheries are always limiting. Nor am I saying we can’t sustainably harvest salmon. What I am saying is that only addressing one limiting factor – habitat – has not provided the results we hoped for.
Declines happened because many pressures acted on them at once. Recovery must follow the same logic. The Elwha resurgence in bull trout and summer steelhead happened because they were not harvested, they were not supplemented with hatchery fish in the upper basin, and they were allowed to reconnect to intact habitats.
The recovery of Oregon coho salmon has occurred because of managers identified limiting hatchery and harvest influences with years of rigorous science. Based on those results, they then took action to reshape harvest and hatchery practices. That is a gold-standard example of adaptive management.
If we give fish a chance, they will figure it out. They have been doing this for more than 120 million years. My guess is they know a thing or two more about survival than we do.
To be clear, I’m not saying hatcheries are always limiting. Nor am I saying we can’t sustainably harvest salmon. What I am saying is that only addressing one limiting factor – habitat – has not provided the results we hoped for.
Declines happened because many pressures acted on them at once. Recovery must follow the same logic. The Elwha resurgence in bull trout and summer steelhead happened because they were not harvested, they were not supplemented with hatchery fish in the upper basin, and they were allowed to reconnect to intact habitats.
The recovery of Oregon coho salmon has occurred because of managers identified limiting hatchery and harvest influences with years of rigorous science. Based on those results, they then took action to reshape harvest and hatchery practices. That is a gold-standard example of adaptive management.
If we give fish a chance, they will figure it out. They have been doing this for more than 120 million years. My guess is they know a thing or two more about survival than we do.
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