Better Specs, Better Stewardship: What Public Contract Renewals Get Wrong About Trees and Landscapes
Most public servants treat contract renewals as paperwork. In natural resource management, the specifications we renew are the instructions that shape the next five years of public land. We need to write them like it.
Kyle D. Peczkowski
Board Certified Master Arborist & Urban Forester

There is a season in every public agency that does not appear on the events calendar: renewal season. Parks maintenance, tree care, invasive species control, landscape irrigation — the contracts that keep public land alive come up for renewal on staggered cycles, and one by one they cross a buyer's desk with a recommendation to extend. Most of the time, the extension is approved with minor adjustments to price and scope. The trees and landscapes that depend on those specifications get whatever the old contract said, whether the old contract still makes sense or not.
This is how public assets degrade in plain sight. A tree care contract written ten years ago may specify 'trim 1,200 trees annually' without defining what trimming means, when it happens, or to what standard. The result is predictable: the lowest-responsive bidder tops crape myrtles in summer, lions-tails coast live oaks in fall, and leaves structural defects in heritage trees because none of those outcomes are forbidden by the scope. The contract is technically fulfilled. The trees are worse off than if nothing had been done.
Landscape contracts are often worse. A 'sustainable landscape maintenance' specification that does not define weed management by species, irrigation by evapotranspiration zone, or soil health by organic matter content will almost always default to the cheapest possible interpretation: mow, blow, spray, and go. The contractor is not the villain. They are responding to the incentives the specification creates. If the document rewards speed and visual tidiness, the contractor will deliver speed and visual tidiness, and the sustainable landscape will quietly become a chemically dependent one.
The problem is not that public servants are careless. The problem is that contract renewal is treated as a procurement exercise rather than a stewardship exercise. The buyer's job is described as getting the best value for the lowest price. The forester's job is to keep the canopy healthy. Those two jobs are usually performed by different people, and the document that connects them — the specification — is written in language that satisfies procurement while leaving ecology underdefined.
Better specifications start with outcomes, not tasks. Instead of 'prune 1,200 trees,' a strong spec says: 'Prune in accordance with ANSI A300 standards for the species and objective, with no removal of more than 25 percent of live crown in any single growing season, no flush cuts, no climbing spikes on live trees, and no work on oak species during the high-risk window for oak wilt or other vector-borne pathogens.' It names the standard. It names the limits. It names the timing. A contractor can still bid against it, but the bid is now tied to a defined quality of care.
For landscapes, the same principle applies. A good sustainable landscape specification defines irrigation by plant type and soil moisture, not by clock time. It defines weed control by target species and acceptable methods — hand removal, flame, organic herbicides, or targeted spot treatment — rather than 'control weeds as needed.' It requires mulch replenishment by depth and material, not by 'annual mulch service.' It includes inspection criteria: a random sample of beds checked for weed pressure, soil coverage, plant health, and irrigation function. Without those criteria, there is no enforceable difference between a sustainable landscape and a maintained one.
There is also a training dimension. A contractor's crew is only as good as the instructions they receive on the first day. Specifications should require a pre-start conference that includes the project arborist or landscape manager, the crew lead, and the contract administrator. Everyone should walk the site together, look at the assets, and agree on what success looks like. A half-day walkthrough costs almost nothing and prevents thousands of dollars in corrective work.
Renewal is also the right moment to update for climate. A contract written before the 2020 heat domes may assume that the same irrigation schedule and species palette will work for the next five years. It will not. Specifications should require drought-response protocols, heat-wave protections for new plantings, and adaptive watering based on real-time weather data. If the contract does not mention climate, the contractor has no obligation to manage for it.
The public servant who writes these specifications is doing some of the most consequential natural resource work in government. No field crew plants, prunes, or protects more acreage than the contracts that person approves. A well-written specification multiplies good practice across hundreds of sites and thousands of trees. A poorly written one locks in mediocrity for another half-decade.
Renewal season should be treated as a planning season. Before any contract is extended, the agency should ask: what did we learn since this was last written? What species are struggling? What practices are outdated? What outcomes do we actually want? The answers belong in the specifications. Trees and landscapes do not read contracts, but they live with the consequences of what those contracts say. Public stewardship starts with writing the next one better.