Why the Government Would Rather Fine You $25,000 Than Pay You to Catch an Arsonist

There’s something unsettling about the way the system works. Step off a marked trail, wander into the wrong patch of forest, and you could find yourself slapped with a $25,000 fine — all in the name of “protection.”

But catch someone in the act of lighting that same forest on fire? There’s no fat check waiting for you. No $25,000 reward for stopping destruction before it spreads. No incentive to protect the woods beyond the vague satisfaction of “doing the right thing.”

It raises a question most officials seem unwilling to answer: Why is the hammer of punishment always heavier than the hand of reward?

The Stick Over the Carrot

In theory, deterrence is supposed to keep people in line. Harsh penalties send a message — or so the narrative goes. But what if that same logic, flipped on its head, could actually save more forests, lives, and resources?

Imagine a system where vigilant hikers, hunters, and locals could be the first line of defense against arson. Imagine turning the public into a network of watchful eyes, incentivized with serious rewards to prevent fires before they become infernos.

Instead, governments seem more interested in controlling movement than encouraging prevention. They’d rather punish a nature lover for straying off-trail than empower them to stop the very disasters those rules are supposed to prevent.

The Dark Incentive

The uncomfortable truth is that fines make money, and rewards cost money. A $25,000 fine is revenue. A $25,000 reward is an expense. One fills the coffers; the other empties them.

And when policies are written in budget rooms rather than in the ashes of burned-out forests, priorities shift. Safety becomes a talking point. Punishment becomes policy. Prevention becomes an afterthought.

This isn’t just about hiking. It’s about how our institutions value control over cooperation, fear over trust. And until that balance shifts, we’ll keep seeing the same story play out: people punished for being in the wrong place at the wrong time, while the real criminals slip away into the smoke.