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