Red Tape BLOCKS $5M College Revival Plan

A once-promising plan to revive a shuttered Vermont college collapsed under state red tape—so the owner now says he’ll give the entire campus away, but only to a group that shares his Christian “revival” vision.

Quick Take

WhistlePig founder Raj Bhakta bought the former Green Mountain College campus in Poultney for $5 million in 2020 and floated a major hotel-and-distillery redevelopment.
Vermont’s Act 250 land-use process repeatedly deemed Bhakta’s permit application “substantially incomplete,” and the application was withdrawn in September 2025.
Bhakta is now promoting a conditional donation—“The Gift”—restricted to a Christian organization aligned with the “revival of the United States and Western Civilization.”
Poultney leaders and residents are left with renewed uncertainty after years of waiting for jobs and economic activity tied to the idle campus.

A Redevelopment Pitch Meets Vermont’s Act 250 Wall

Raj Bhakta, known for founding the Vermont whiskey brand WhistlePig, purchased the more than 200-acre Green Mountain College campus in Poultney after the school closed in 2019. He pitched an ambitious redevelopment: a luxury hotel, a distillery, and related amenities that he said could bring major investment to a small town still absorbing the economic hit from the college’s shutdown. The plan ran into Vermont’s Act 250 process, where regulators flagged key deficiencies.

Regenerative Land Holdings LLC, an entity tied to Bhakta, filed an Act 250 permit application in March 2024. State correspondence later deemed the submission “substantially incomplete,” with another notice following in April 2025. By September 12, 2025, the application was withdrawn, and Bhakta described the process as cumbersome and expensive. For residents who hoped the dormant campus would become a jobs engine, the withdrawal signaled yet another reset.

From Hotel-and-Distillery to “The Gift” With Deed Restrictions

With the redevelopment plan effectively shelved, Bhakta publicly shifted to a different path: offering the property as a donation he calls “The Gift.” The offer is not open-ended. Reporting indicates the intended recipient must be a Christian organization aligned with a stated mission focused on spiritual renewal and the “revival” of Western civilization, and the concept includes deed restrictions intended to limit future uses. No finalized recipient has been publicly identified.

The practical effect is that a high-value campus—dorms, dining facilities, farmland, and institutional buildings—could be placed beyond reach for other proposals the town might consider, including secular education, workforce training, or community services, depending on how restrictions are written and enforced. That matters in a rural area where the former college functioned as an anchor employer and a steady source of local activity before its closure.

Small-Town Consequences After Years of Waiting

Poultney’s situation is shaped by hard realities: a small population, limited tax base, and a long hangover from the 2019 campus shutdown. Local voices have described the closure as an ongoing “wound,” with ripple effects that include reduced economic opportunity and community strain. When Bhakta’s project was marketed as a large-scale revival, expectations rose. When the permit effort collapsed, local business advocates described the outcome as discouraging—essentially forcing the community back to square one.

What This Episode Reveals About Regulation, Property Rights, and Local Control

This story sits at the intersection of two forces conservatives track closely: heavy regulatory regimes that can freeze development, and the power a single private owner holds over a major local asset. Act 250’s repeated “incomplete” determinations show how process can become policy, especially when timelines stretch across years. At the same time, Bhakta’s ability to impose ideological conditions through a donation underscores a separate truth: communities can’t “vote” a property into a preferred use.

Publicly available reporting leaves key details unresolved, including the identity of the receiving organization and the final language of any deed limits. Until those facts are clear, residents, town officials, and potential alternative bidders remain stuck in limbo. The campus is not entirely dormant—activities on-site have included a tasting room and a school connected to Bhakta’s family. But the larger question—whether Poultney gets broad-based economic renewal or a tightly defined institution—remains unanswered.

For a town that watched a historic college fade out and then waited years for a promised rebuild, the immediate takeaway is simple: the future of a public-facing community landmark is being decided through a private transaction shaped by regulation, leverage, and conditions that may or may not match local needs. The next turning point will be whether a qualified recipient accepts the terms—and whether those terms leave any room for Poultney’s broader recovery.