Across the United States, the National Park Service (NPS) is facing what many insiders and advocates describe as an unprecedented crisis, with deep budget and staffing cuts threatening the core mission of America’s public lands. From the sunbaked trails of the Grand Canyon to the lush valleys of Ohio’s Cuyahoga Valley National Park and the windswept dunes of Cape Cod, the ripple effects of these reductions are being felt by employees, visitors, and local economies alike.
Maria Burks, a former superintendent of the Cape Cod National Seashore with nearly 40 years of NPS experience, described the situation as “horrifying and sickening.” She recalled how the mantra during her tenure was always, “We must do more with less.” But, as she wrote in a recent op-ed, the current wave of cuts goes beyond belt-tightening—posing “a grave threat to the Outer Cape’s economy, environment, and quality of life.” According to Burks, the National Seashore began its 2025 season with 20 vacancies out of 68 permanent positions, while deferred maintenance needs have ballooned to $93 million. Yet, the park continues to welcome close to four million visitors a year, a record high that only amplifies the strain on its diminished staff.
This story isn’t unique to Cape Cod. In Arizona, public lands such as the Grand Canyon and Coronado National Forest are experiencing longer wait times, overflowing trash, unkempt trails, and heightened wildfire risk, as reported by Axios. A coalition of environmental organizations has been touring the West to raise awareness, warning that the Trump administration and a Republican-led Congress are targeting public lands for workforce and spending cuts. Bill Wade, executive director of the Association of National Park Rangers, put it bluntly at a Tucson press conference: “It seems clear to us that this is a demolition of the National Park Service unlike anything else that’s occurred in the almost 110-year history of the National Park Service.”
Wade noted that the NPS has lost about a quarter of its permanent staff in 2025 alone, echoing Burks’s figures. The agency had pledged to hire 7,700 seasonal employees for the summer, but many of those positions were never filled. In the Grand Canyon, at least 10 NPS employees were laid off, resulting in longer lines and wait times for visitors. The lone hydrologist at Coronado National Forest was also let go, raising serious concerns about wildfire control and forest maintenance. Even so, both visitor centers at Saguaro National Park managed to resume daily operations after a federal court ordered the Trump administration to rehire more than 24,000 federal workers, some of whom were NPS employees.
Meanwhile, in Ohio, Cuyahoga Valley National Park (CVNP) is facing similar challenges. Pam Machuga, a beloved ranger with 34 years of service, retired in April 2025 amid national efforts to cut staff and resources. She received a $25,000 severance package—far less than she would have earned had she stayed until her planned retirement. “Maybe me going saves a younger person from losing their job,” she reflected in an interview with the Akron Beacon Journal. Machuga described how CVNP, the 12th most visited park in the nation in 2024, relies on 95 permanent employees, just 18 temporary workers (down from the usual 40 to 45), and a vast volunteer network. Despite these efforts, staff are “busting their butts so that you don’t know that they’re short staffed, and that’s just in their DNA.”
Yet, the consequences are visible. Two restrooms have been closed since April, and visitors have reported overflowing trash, dirty or shuttered bathrooms, and delayed maintenance on trails and facilities. “You could do more with less, just for so long then eventually you just you can’t do it anymore,” Machuga warned. The park’s base budget is $12 million, but the looming $1.2 billion cut to the NPS for the fiscal year ending September 30, 2025, casts a long shadow. On top of that, the Legacy Restoration Fund—a crucial source of repair dollars—is set to expire unless Congress acts.
Many park staffers and advocates are also sounding alarms about another, less visible threat: efforts to censor or sanitize the historical narratives presented in national parks. Burks recounted how the Trump administration ordered parks to scrub interpretive materials of anything that might cast American history in a less-than-heroic light. At the Stonewall National Monument in New York, for instance, references to transgender history were removed, along with biographies of two transgender women leaders. In Ohio, Machuga described how she was told to remove references to “RISE culture”—Respect, Inclusion, Safety, and Engagement—from training materials at Mount Rushmore, and how new signage appeared in CVNP urging visitors to report “anti-American” sentiments. “The Park Service’s job is to preserve all aspects of history—the good, the bad, and everything in between,” she insisted. Eilis McGee, a former CVNP intern who later worked at President’s Park in Washington, D.C., left the NPS after being asked to “peel back” stories about LGBTQ+ and First Amendment history. “There was a whole wave of us who got hired to talk about these stories,” McGee said. “So, it was very disheartening.”
Not everyone sees the situation in such stark terms. A National Park Service spokesperson told Axios that monitoring and preservation efforts remain active and that “narratives suggesting the national parks system is in decline don’t match the reality on the ground.” The U.S. Department of the Interior characterized the Center for Western Priorities, which is leading the public lands campaign, as an anti-Trump organization that misleads the public. Similarly, CVNP spokesperson Pamela Barnes said, “The visitor center has been busy, and we’ve been happy to serve thousands of people every week from the local area, around the country and around the world.” The Conservancy for Cuyahoga Valley National Park echoed this, crediting the park’s continued accessibility to strong partnerships, dedicated staff, and community support.
Still, the numbers tell a sobering story. National parks contributed $55.6 billion to the U.S. economy last year, supporting hundreds of thousands of jobs, according to Burks. The Cape Cod National Seashore alone brought in $730 million. Every dollar spent by the Park Service is estimated to generate about ten dollars in economic benefits, making the cuts seem, in Burks’s words, “short-sighted” and counterproductive.
For those who cherish America’s public lands, the message is clear: vigilance and advocacy are needed now more than ever. “Public land—that’s not a party thing,” Machuga emphasized. “It’s not you have to be a Democrat or a Republican to love your public lands. Everybody loves and uses these lands.” Her parting advice? Contact your representatives, make your voice heard, and remember that the future of the parks depends on the actions of today’s citizens as much as on those of the rangers who protect them.
As the fiscal year draws to a close and the fate of billions in funding hangs in the balance, the debate over the stewardship of America’s national parks has never felt more urgent—or more personal for those who have dedicated their lives to these treasured places.
