The Problem of Wilderness

In America, and increasingly around the world, a dangerous dichotomy between human perceptions of the natural world is developing. Nature is seen either as wilderness, totally untouchable and sacred, or it is seen as a wasteland open to development and exploitation. Neither of these views foster a healthy relationship between humanity and our envionment, and these views are dependent upon one another.

In America our wilderness areas are defined as a place "where man himself is a visitor who does not remain." In essence, wilderness areas are areas that lack humanity and the influences of humanity. They are areas defined by our absence. However, there are very few surviving areas that lack human influence. In response to this, the National Forest Service will tear down evidence of human habitation, such as old fences or miners cabins, that happen to be found inside a wilderness area. This is not nature preservation, and I can think of few old miners’ cabins or broken down fences that interfere with the flora or fauna of any area. Instead of preserving the natural world, the Forest Service is re-writing history to achieve a certain modern ideal: Wilderness.

Closed off to the past, this wilderness is also not open to the present. The experience of wilderness areas is limited to those who have the knowledge, equipment and time. Individuals with these opportunities far too often fall in the middle to upper class, and the notion of wilderness begins to exclude to poor or marginalized. Wilderness becomes a playground, or an escape, only for those who can afford it.

I believe that, despite these problems, the preservation of undeveloped spaces is essential. The problem with the American notion of wilderness is not the wilderness itself, but the responses that idea generates. American wilderness is untouchable. Visitors may not light fires, must pack out all trash, and are strongly encouraged to "leave no trace" of their visit. In short, a human visit to the wilderness is always destructive and always requires cleaning up and covering tracks. The best thing humanity could do for this environment would be to stay home, to never venture into this sacred area which will ultimately suffer as a result of a human visit.

If wilderness excludes humanity, where are we to go? Humanity must find somewhere to live, build houses and grow crops. Because we are not excluded from our "useable" lands, these areas become inferior to wilderness. In short, they are not sacred. They are exploitable.

If wilderness is sacred and untouchable, it must be somehow different from the land on which we grow crops or build houses. Our unreachably high standards of purity for our wilderness preservations fosters the idea that the land we live and work on are seen as second class, inferior to wilderness. There are no striking geological features around Salt Lake City, Utah, so it’s acceptable to mine and develop the land there. The forests in Maine are all second-generation new growth, so it’s acceptable to clear-cut them.

Environmentalists often look to the Native Americans as an example of the ideal human-environment relationship. The Native Americans did not separate their environment into untouchable wilderness and usable land. For them, all land was sacred, yet all land was useable. Native Americans on the East Coast often set fires to clear land, a cycle that the flora adapted to and exploited, especially the red maple. The Anasazi practiced forestry at Mesa Verde to build their houses and light their fires. The plains tribes hunted and established semi-permanent camps, leaving refuse in their wake. The Native Americans did not practice "leave no trace" camping. Instead, they lived in and interacted with the natural world. Yet they knew and respected the limits and cycles of that world, being careful not to overexploit the resource they depended on.

In America, there is often talk of our wilderness areas being threatened by development. If this is true, it is true because we have disregarded sustainable relationships with our environment. The perceived difference between sacred wilderness and usable cropland developed into the idea that useable land is somehow different from wilderness, an attitude that invites exploitation. It is as if nature exists only in human-defined areas, and the world outside of those boundaries is somehow dead, impervious to our manipulation. It becomes acceptable to dump waste into Boston Harbor or drive dune buggies through the desert, because these environments are empty, devoid of the special features that make them sacred enough to call wilderness.

This problematic dichotomy, however deep-rooted and prevalent, can be overcome, if only because modern Americans are becoming more and more concerned about our natural world. The solution does not lie in abolishing the national parks. Instead, we must expand our definition of the sacred. The natural world can be found everywhere, from buffaloes in Yellowstone to a scraggly elm growing in the inner city to the squirrels outside Miller Library. This world, no less than that within our boundaries of wilderness, is sacred. The sacred nature of these sites does not mean that we are excluded from them. Instead, we should learn how to treat even the smallest elements of the natural world with respect. Housing created to blend with and respect natural surroundings has existed since the Native Americans build their adobe houses in Mesa Verde. Many modern architects, such as Frank Lloyd Wright, believe the harmony between house and environment is key. The recent debates over urban sprawl are bringing the issue of unobtrursive human habitations to the limelight.

A respectful relationship with the natural world does not stop at housing. It is possible to foster healthy environmental relationships even in regard to croplands and forestry. Sustainable forestry does exist, and with elaboration could make old-growth forestry obsolete and unnecessary. The preservation of old growth can co-exist with the harvesting of specific, sustainable plots. Similar measures are possible in agriculture, where increasing knowledge of the importance of soil microbial activity and the predator-prey relationships of pest insects has already been creating respect for the natural cycles of usable land.

Solving the problem of wilderness does not mean that wilderness areas should be destroyed. The problem of wilderness is mental, and the problem with wilderness areas is the perceived difference between what is inside and what is outside of their boundaries. Totally undeveloped areas are important for our spiritual health, and destroying the dichotomy of sacred and exploitable natural areas will not destroy these untouched areas. Muir woods will remain open and undeveloped, but we will be able to find equally impressive natural wonders in our backyards, our croplands and our timber-producing forests.