The testimony has been heard. Opinions have been registered. Analysis has produced clearly defined alternatives. The next step for the Land Use Regulation Commission is to give itself a deadline to adopt an updated comprehensive plan.

LURC was established in 1971 by the Legislature to make development and land-use policies for the state’s unorganized townships. Lawmakers understood the process would be dynamic — zoning regulations can’t be set in concrete — so they sensibly ordered LURC to update the plan every five years.

The process, however, also has been controversial and politically charged. LURC was lobbied hard by environmentalists during their heyday, the first 10 to 15 years of the agency’s existence. Meanwhile, some landowners never accepted, and probably will never accept, living in LURC’s dominion. In the past quarter century, ranks of opponents to wildland zoning have been swelled by frustrated real-estate buyers, sellers, developers and speculators, and the emergence of the property and landowners’ rights movements.

Legislation, meanwhile, has had unintended negative as well as positive consequences for the terrain within Maine’s working forest.

The end of the log drives in the 1970s, aimed at restoring river quality, resulted in an expanded road network to log the back country. The paper companies blazed the trails, and cars, campers and motorhomes quickly followed. Some visitors turned into seasonal or even year-round settlers, but all have put constant pressure on the land, including the rivers and streams.

The 40-acre minimum for subdivisions was supposed to discourage development. It didn’t. It just meant the parcels would be larger, and many were sold after being stripped of marketable fiber.

The past 11 years have been tumultuous in LURC`S 10-million-acre jurisdiction. Maine went through an unprecedented period of subdivision an sale of its wildlands. The identities of the state’s major landowners — the people who historically provided built-in stability for raw acreage — changed repeatedly. As paper mills have been sold and downsized, the continued integrity of large tracts of land, once taken for granted, has become questionable.

With that as context, it should come as no surprise that LURC hasn’t revised its regulations since 1983. Lack of action, while easy to understand, is not something Maine should accept. Fortunately, even after 11 years of delay, the commission hasn’t run out of time, or luck.

Actual development, stacked against the huge volume of acreage, has consumed only a tiny portion of LURC’s jurisdiction. There is no immediate crisis in the outback. The issue is one of dealing with potential problems. It’s an enviable position for the agency to be in, provided it keeps to a schedule and completes its work. However, following a productive fall in 1994, the LURC process appears to be bogging down as the panel reaches its hour of decision.

The commission still is on course to complete its work by late spring or early summer. Although its members are pulled by different philosophies on zoning, a strong consensus on a new document is possible if the commissioners build on areas of agreement and focus on LURC’s historic mission of guiding, not preventing appropriate development in the unorganized territories.

At its next meeting, the commission should set a date for themselves to deliver an updated land-use plan. Continued inaction only guarantees that crisis someday will force a decision. A self-imposed deadline is far preferable and should result a more thoughtful, balanced product.