For now, at least, the battle over a proposed house on a Magothy River island has come down to one word: standing.
Who - if anyone - has "standing" to challenge David and Diana Clickner's right to build on 7-acre Dobbins Island, which the couple bought four years ago?
It depends on whom you ask. In its members' view, the Magothy River Association has every right to take on the case. With all the time and money it's put into protecting the river - its reason for existence - what better standing could there be?
But legally, that argument just doesn't wash. As the county Board of Appeals ruled last year, and a judge affirmed last week, the MRA and the Chesapeake Bay Foundation have no right to challenge the Clickners because they're not uniquely affected by the construction as a neighboring property owner would be.
Peel the onion a bit, and you see that this fight is indeed about standing - but in a philosophical, not a legal, sense. The real question beneath the legal one is: Who should have the right to say what happens to this island?
The Clickners, not surprisingly, see it as a private property issue. The experience has "redefined frustration" for the couple, according to their lawyer, Harry Blumenthal. He said they know the fight's not over yet, but they're determined to carry on.
To Paul Spadaro, president of the MRA, it's about the rights of the "little guy." He said "creative lawyering" has denied residents a real day in court.
"That's the problem in our society," Mr. Spadaro said. "Some people feel that they're entitled, and if they can get their lawyer to find that wiggle room or loophole... ." He didn't need to finish the thought.
He compared fighting development to playing a card game where everyone else gets five cards and you only get three. The system is broken, favoring the deep-pocketed and those with good lawyers over the public interest, he said.
Well, that's not exactly breaking news.
I don't like the idea of building on Dobbins Island, either. But here's the thing: The Clickners own the island. They paid $850,000 for it, and they've played by the rules at every turn.
Because of critical area laws, they wouldn't ordinarily be able to build on the island, but they were granted an exception from the county administrative hearing officer in 2006.
The Clickners, who live in Glen Burnie, run a successful flooring business that has allowed them to build their dream home, Mr. Blumenthal said. (And an expensive dream it is: All materials would have to be taken to the island by barge, greatly inflating the cost of building a house.)
Perhaps environmental groups should have the right to challenge rulings like the one in favor of the Clickners. But that's not the law, despite recent attempts in the General Assembly to change the legal definition of standing.
As Mr. Blumenthal noted, the law already allows environmental groups standing in some state proceedings. But in many local cases, only people with property within 175 feet of the proposed construction have a right to challenge it.
"Common law is common sense," Mr. Spadaro said. "There is nobody within 175 feet of that island... . That does not give this person the right to have a blank check."
The fight is not over for the foreseeable future. Mr. Spadaro said he'll appeal last week's ruling, and a separate lawsuit he filed argues residents have a right of access to the island regardless of ownership because they've done so unfettered for more than 20 years.
The MRA has said it wants to buy the island. Mr. Spadaro said there is a "road map" to put it in public hands, though he declined to be more specific.
"We will be in this as long as we can," Mr. Spadaro promised - with or without standing.
Meanwhile, a short boat ride from Dobbins Island sits Little Island, with its monstrosity of a house, built without proper permits several years ago by homebuilder Daryl Wagner.
The county Board of Appeals ruled last year he could keep his house, bringing to mind a cruel irony: If the Clickners had just built their house and applied for retroactive permits, they might be in it by now, asking for forgiveness instead of permission. Either way, the litigation would have dragged on for years.
"It goes to prove the old adage that no good deed goes unpunished," Mr. Blumenthal said.