Zealous Lord of a Vast Domain

Interior's Watt: determined, righteous and on the move

Any number of fierce advocates surround Ronald Reagan these days, all determined to carry out last November's election mandate. Each seems, however, to interpret the mandate as his very own, as an individual summons to overhaul his special part of the System. No one is more zealous than James Watt, 43, the lanky, brusque Secretary of the Interior. His soft voice and thick glasses make him seem a little like a benign mortician, but that could be misleading. For Jim Watt has all the self-righteous conviction of the born-again Christian that he is, and his goal is no less ambitious than converting America's soul about harvesting its vast natural resources.

In a way, Watt represents Reaganism in all its extremes: the single-mindedness, the bluster, the aching for a glorious past. His whole aggressive demeanor, his background as head of the Mountain States Legal Foundation, which thwarted environmental regulations, have convinced some environmentalists that his ultimate goal is to snatch the national treasures from the people and turn them over to powerful industrial interests. Since more than a few conservation activists are every bit as determined and self-righteous as Watt, that could prove a dangerous mission.

Of course, that was precisely why he was picked for the job. After Nevada Senator Paul Laxalt called Watt to his office and sized him up, he excitedly phoned the President—who had never set eyes on the keen lawyer—and said he had found just the right man. Watt was razor smart, Laxalt told the President, a steely manager who knew his field. Best of all, Laxalt declared, Watt could take pressure: he had the hide of a rhino.

In two short months the thick-skinned man who manages 550 million acres of public land has stunned environmentalists and lawmakers with the way he has decisively altered policymaking at Interior. Watt has accelerated the sale of oil and gas leases, moved to expedite the surface mining of coal, opened up wilderness areas to allow exploration of strategic minerals, halted the acquisition of more lands for national parks. He says he wants a bold, sensible program that will renew the country's growth. Says one of Watt's top aides, Stan Hulett: "Nobody could have survived making these proposals a few years ago. It took a major economic crisis to let us finally change direction."

The environmentalists have roared back, warning of ecological nightmares. "This is the first time in my memory," says former Senator Gaylord Nelson, who now lobbies for the Wilderness Society, "that the country's chief conservation officer has been an antienvironmentalist."

Watt is an autocratic and cocksure man who is quick to show his impatience with poor performance. Wary colleagues sensed long ago not to swear in his presence. He neither smokes nor drinks—no coffee either. His unbending sense of propriety is so well known that, although Watt claims he never uttered a word about it, rumors swept the Interior building that women workers should wear skirts, not slacks, on the job.