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 pot 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 and-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 :If 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 pubic wilderness area is a new kind of public land reservation, distinct
from )ublic forests and public parks. It is rather a new kind of land-dedication ovithin our system
of
public forests and parks, to be duly correlated with ledications to the other uses which that system
is already obligated to ccommodate.
Lastly, to round out our definitions, let us exclude from practical considration any
degree of
wilderness so absolute as to forbid reasonable protecion. It would be idle to discuss wilderness
areas if they are to be left subject o destruction by forest fires, or wide open to abuse. Experience
has demnstrated, however, that a very modest and unobtrusive framework of rails, 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.
From 'Wilderness as a form of land use'
Aldo Leopold, 1925