What
is a wilderness area?
The term wilderness,
as here used, means a wild, roadless area where those who
are so inclined may enjoy primitive modes of travel and subsistence, such as
exploration trips by pack-train or canoe.
The first idea is that
wilderness is a resource, not only in the physical sense of the
raw materials it contains, but also in the sense of a distinctive environment which
may, if rightly used, yield certain social values. Such a conception ought not to be
difficult, because we have lately learned to think of other forms of land use in the
same way. We no longer think of a municipal golf links, for instance, as merely soil
and grass.
The second idea is
that the value of wilderness varies enormously with location. As
with other resources, it is impossible to dissociate value from location. There are
wilderness areas in Siberia which are probably very similar in character to parts of
our Lake states, but their value to us is negligible, compared with what the value of a
similar area in the Lake states would be, just as the value of a golf links would be
negligible if located so as to be out of reach of golfers.
The third idea is that
wilderness, in the sense of an environment as distinguished
from a quantity of physical materials, lies somewhere between the class of non-
reproducible resources like minerals, and the reproducible resources like forests. It
does not disappear proportionately to use, as minerals do, because we can conceive
of a wild area which, if properly administered, could be traveled indefinitely and still be
as good as ever. On the other hand, wilderness certainly cannot be built at will, like a
city park or a tennis court. If we should tear down improvements already made in
order to build a wilderness, not only would the cost be prohibitive, but the result would
probably be highly dissatisfying. Neither can a wilderness be grown like timber,
because it is something more than trees. The practical point is that if we want
wilderness, we must foresee our want and preserve the proper areas against the
encroachment of inimical uses.
Fourth, wilderness
exists in all degrees, from the little accidental wild spot at the
head of a ravine in a Corn Belt woodlot to vast expanses of virgin country–
Where nameless men by nameless rivers wander And in strange valleys die strange deaths
alone.
What degree of wilderness
then, are we discussing? The answer is, all degrees.
Wilderness is a relative condition. As a form of land use it cannot be a rigid entity of
unchanging content, exclusive of all other forms. On the contrary, it must be a flexible
thing, accommodating itself to other forms and blending with them in that highly
localized give-and-take scheme of land-planning which employs the criterion of
"highest use." By skilfully adjusting one use to another, the land planner builds a
balanced whole without undue sacrifice of any function, and thus attains a maximum
net utility of land.
Just as the application
of the park idea in civic planning varies in degree from the
provision of a public bench on a street corner to the establishment of a municipal
forest playground as large as the city itself, so should the application of the
wilderness idea vary in degree from the wild, roadless spot of a few acres left in the
rougher parts of public forest devoted to timber-growing, to wild, roadless regions
approaching in size a whole national forest or a whole national park. For it is not to be
supposed that a public wilderness area is a new kind of public land reservation,
distinct from public forests and public parks. It is rather a new kind of land-dedication
within our system of public forests and parks, to be duly correlated with dedications
to the other uses which that system is already obligated to accommodate.
Lastly, to round out
our definitions, let us exclude from practical consideration any
degree of wilderness so absolute as to forbid reasonable protection. It would be idle
to discuss wilderness areas if they are to be left subject to destruction by forest fires,
or wide open to abuse. Experience has demostrated, however, that a very modest
and unobtrusive framework of trails, telephone line and lookout stations will suffice for
protective purposes. Such improvements do not destroy the wild flavor of the area,
and are necessary if it is to be kept in usable condition.
Aldo Leopold; 1925
