Executive order banning mining in Minnesota's Boundary Waters renews decades-long debate

In a sweeping action Tuesday, Minnesota's governor banned mining near the Boundary Waters. It's the latest move in a decades-long, back-and-forth debate.

It's a place nearly untouched by time. A pristine web of woods and lakes spanning a million acres, flowing into the state's lone national park: Voyageurs and, eventually, the Arctic Ocean. It's a place where anglers go to catch walleye, where young campers discover themselves and where tourists flock for peace, serenity and rugged adventure.

For former mining industry worker Bob Tammen, of Soudan, it's more than that. It's cherished memories, traditions and a place to reconnect with his late wife, Pat.

"Pat and I went into the Boundary Waters a lot," he said. "I just go on write myself a pass and wander in and look out over the lake and think of the good times."

But for decades there has also been talk about what lies underneath the surface: one of the largest undeveloped copper-nickel deposits in the world, according to Twin Metals, an Ely-based subsidiary of Chilean mining giant Antofagasta. Over four billion tons of ore containing copper, nickel and other "strategic" minerals that are the backbone of electrification. Everything from electric vehicle batteries to electronics and even bombs.

Advocates tout domestic production as critical, while critics say it's not worth the trade-off in this sensitive location. 

In 2019, they proposed a mine nine miles southeast of Ely in the watershed that flows into the Boundary Waters. But a federal mining ban sidelined the proposal.

The possibility of mining in the area is intriguing to Al King. The Eveleth father of four says the industry changed his family's life.

"My dad is a band member of Bois Forte. Getting into the mines was like winning the lottery for him. After he got a job at Menorca in the mines, he did not have to work as hard. We got to see him more," King said. "I just have a unique perspective on just mining and how it can truly upgrade your life."

King is one of hundreds of Iron Range miners looking for work. His taconite mine in Virginia paused operations more than a year ago, which means unemployment benefits have run dry. 

"There was an issue with supply and demand," King said. "You feel helpless. It was terrible and it still is."

Still, he sees mining here as a critical lifeline providing high-paying jobs for families hoping to stay, with salaries and benefits topping $200,000 for a union worker, he says.

"I love this area. I want [my children] to actually have the chance to have a job so they could stay up here," King said.

Tammen worked decades in the mining industry and empathizes with people like King, but does not feel a mine is worth potentially jeopardizing the watershed.

"If we're going to look for jobs, I think mining is the wrong place to look," Tammen said. "My neighbors work in the mines, and so when I come out and say, 'I want clean water, even if we have to pay the price,' the price might be their job. You hate to think that, but sometimes we have to quit degrading our environment. At stake is our economic future and I don't think mining is our economic future."

"I believe that we need to protect it at all costs. If there is a study, and through the process of getting a permit to mine, and all this stuff, that it was exposed that there was an inordinate amount of risk, and there was no protective measures, I would definitely not be in support of it," King said. "Any semblance of hope of two more generations living up here is at stake if we can't figure this out."