<figure><img src="image_1.png" /></figure>

HAL
open science

# Protected areas as zones of paradoxical composition. The case of an area “strictly protected for science”: The Lauvitel integral reserve (France)

Isabelle Arpin, Quentin Bouchu, Kewan Mertens

► To cite this version:

Isabelle Arpin, Quentin Bouchu, Kewan Mertens. Protected areas as zones of paradoxical composition. The case of an area “strictly protected for science”: The Lauvitel integral reserve (France). Environmental Science & Policy, 2025, 173, pp.104257. 10.1016/j.envsci.2025.104257. hal-05320619

HAL Id: hal-05320619

https://hal.inrae.fr/hal-05320619v1

Submitted on 18 Oct 2025

HAL is a multi-disciplinary open access
archive for the deposit and dissemination of sci-
entific research documents, whether they are pub-
lished or not. The documents may come from
teaching and research institutions in France or
abroad, or from public or private research centers.

L'archive ouverte pluridisciplinaire HAL, est
destinée au dépôt et à la diffusion de documents
scientifiques de niveau recherche, publiés ou non,
émanant des établissements d'enseignement et de
recherche français ou étrangers, des laboratoires
publics ou privés.

<figure><img src="image_2.png" /></figure>

Distributed under a Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License
# Protected areas as zones of paradoxical composition. The case of an area "strictly protected for science": The Lauvitel integral reserve (France)

Isabelle Arpin<sup>a, *, †</sup>, Quentin Bouchu<sup>a</sup>, Kewan Mertens<sup>a, b ‡</sup>

## ARTICLE INFO

Keywords:

Zone

Composition

Device

Protected areas

Science

Conservation

Lauvitel integral reserve

## ABSTRACT

This article adopts a spatial perspective to reconceptualise protected areas. We analyse protected areas as zones of paradoxical composition, that is, spaces where an objective of de-inhabitation and an objective of the selective reintroduction of human activities (re-inhabitation) are placed together —composed, in its etymological sense— in often complex and contested ways. Specifically, we examine the close association of conservation with scientific knowledge production, an activity historically intertwined with conservation efforts. Using a longitudinal case study of the Lauvitel integral reserve in France, an area 'strictly protected for science', we explore the devices enabling this composition through documentary analysis, semi-structured interviews, and participant observation. Our findings identify three interconnected, spatially distributed devices shaping this composition process: a filtering device at the reserve's boundary, which regulates selective access; a discretion device within the reserve, maintaining the illusion of an untouched landscape; and a (re)presentation device beyond the reserve, fostering mediated access while sustaining the reserve's exclusivity. We thus illuminate how protected areas are not simply exclusionary spaces but are shaped by negotiated and spatially differentiated forms of human presence. Our approach to protected areas as zones of paradoxical composition sheds new light on scientific presence in protected areas, engages with questions of Earth's habitability, and opens avenues for future research on environmental justice.

## 1. Introduction

Protected areas are expanding globally in response to international agreements and national policies (Ministère, 2022; UN, 2022). The International Union for Conservation of Nature (IUCN) defines a protected area as 'a clearly defined geographical space, recognised, dedicated and managed, through legal or other effective means, to achieve the long-term conservation of nature with associated ecosystem services and cultural values' (Dudley, 2008: 8). This definition underscores two key dimensions: the spatial character of protected areas and the inherent linkage between the primary objective —long-term nature conservation— and other objectives—ecosystem services and cultural values. What types of spaces can effectively accommodate these multifaceted aims in practice?

### 1.1. Protected areas: from whom, by whom?

The persistent and pervasive characterisation of protected areas as

'fortresses' (Brockington, 2002; Fletcher, 2010)—spaces where human activities are minimised or excluded to allow nature to thrive—is misleading (Therville, 2013). Protected areas are never completely insulated from human influence. Rather, they are spaces of compromise, where conservation objectives intersect with competing societal demands (Lascoumes, 1994). They are dynamic, contested spaces shaped by multiple projects, interests, and claims beyond conservation, including tourism (Rumore, 2012; Shih, 2019; Otsuki, 2023), environmental education, hunting (Coz, 2024), pastoralism (Unks et al., 2021), and scientific research (Alagona, 2012; Kupper, 2009, 2012; De Bont, 2017; Raby, 2019).

However, analytical tools are currently lacking to study how these competing agendas are practically and materially combined in specific places. We use the term 'compose' in its etymological sense— 'placing together'—to explore how protected areas are actively produced as spaces where multiple objectives coexist. We thus propose to study protected areas as zones of paradoxical composition. This composition, we hypothesise, is made possible by specific devices that integrate

<footnote><sup>a</sup> Université Grenoble Alpes, INRAE, LESSEM, St-Martin-d'Hères F-38402, France</footnote>

<footnote><sup>b</sup> Centre de Sociologie de l'Innovation (UMR 9217), Mines Paris, Paris Sciences et Lettres (PSL), 60 Bd Saint-Michel, Paris F-75272, France</footnote>

<footnote>* Correspondence to: Université Grenoble Alpes, INRAE, LESSEM, 2 rue de la Papeterie-BP 76, St-Martin-d'Hères F-38402, France
E-mail address: isabelle.arpin@inrae.fr (I. Arpin).</footnote>
conservation with diverse objectives. Our analysis focuses on these compositional devices and their role in shaping protected areas. In doing so, we aim to foreground the spatial dimension of building a shared world in times of environmental change, a dimension surprisingly largely absent from Latour’s early work on composition (Latour, 2004), but recently brought to renewed attention by research on patches of the Anthropocene (Tsing et al., 2019, 2024). While patches are a conceptual tool for noticing landscape structure in degraded or simplified landscapes (Tsing et al., 2019), zones of paradoxical composition highlight the spatiality of unequally inhabiting protected areas.

To ground this approach, we examine the Lauvitel integral reserve, located in the Écrins National Park in the French Alps. Our analysis focuses on the spatial and institutional devices that enable the composition of conservation with scientific knowledge production. As noted by the IUCN expert involved in the Lauvitel reserve's homologation:

*'The first IUCN category system of protected areas, which I think was established in 1978, already included this category [integral reserves]. So this is one of the oldest categories, and it has always been linked to scientific studies' (19/03/2011).*

Integral reserves were first legally recognised in France by Law No. 60-708 of 22 July 1960 on national parks and reaffirmed by Law No. 2006-436 of 14 April 2006. This legislation provides for the creation of ‘integral reserves’ within the core areas of national parks in order to ensure increased protection of certain flora and fauna for scientific purposes. As the first of its kind in a French national park, the Lauvitel integral reserve provides an ideal case to analyse the devices that enable and sustain the existence of areas that are ‘strictly protected for science’.

## 1.2. Zones and devices of composition

We draw on Etelain’s (2023) theory of zones to understand the spatial differentiation at the heart of protected areas. Etelain (2023: 266) defines a zone as ‘a portion of the Earth that differs from what surrounds it because of some special quality’ and argues that zones are socially produced through the amplification of spatial singularities shaped by geological and biological processes (Gaillardet, 2023). Zones are thus not static divisions but dynamic, open-ended formations with mutable boundaries, uses, and meanings. Zoning, in this framework, is not about dividing space but about multiplying it through processes of internal differentiation.

Etelain further notes that zones are sites of exception, granting specific rights to certain categories of users while excluding others. Protected areas epitomise such zones of exception: they are designed to enable some activities (e.g., research) while forbidding others (e.g., construction). We argue that protected areas also operate as zones of composition: spaces where the imperative to conserve nature is negotiated alongside other objectives. These zones embody a fundamental tension: they simultaneously facilitate de-inhabitation, by restricting or excluding certain human activities such as construction, and promote re-inhabitation, by inviting others, such as research, tourism, or education. Our core hypothesis is that the creation and maintenance of protected areas rely on spatial and institutional devices that enable the paradoxical composition of these opposing logics.

To develop this hypothesis, we complement Etelain’s philosophy of zones with the concept of devices. Dodier and Barbot (2016) define devices as heterogeneous assemblages that simultaneously constrain and support action. They operate as pre-structured sequences designed to qualify or transform states of affairs through the arrangement of material and linguistic elements. In the context of protected areas, the states of affairs to be qualified or transformed are the spaces themselves.

Among the various human activities integrated into protected areas, we focus here on the production of scientific knowledge. Historically closely linked to the conservation movement, scientists have played a pivotal role in the establishment of protected areas (Benson, 2012; De Bont, 2017). Their presence lends legitimacy to conservation initiatives

(Arpin and Cosson, 2021) and protected areas are frequently described as ‘scientific hotspots’ (Alagona, 2012; Kupper, 2009, 2012), and open-air or natural laboratories (Rumore, 2012; Hennessy, 2018; Debaive et al., 2021). Unlike other human activities, science—if acknowledged as an activity at all—is often perceived as inherently beneficial or, at least, neutral to conservation goals (Benson, 2012; Raby, 2019). However, science, like any human activity, involves the occupation, use, and transformation of space (Raby, 2019; Griffiths et al., 2023). Given their pervasiveness and status in protected areas, scientific activities warrant critical attention in terms of spatial implementation, differentiation and access.

The Lauvitel integral reserve offers a valuable case for exploring how scientific activity is composed with conservation. It reveals how zoning practices enable both access and restriction, and how scientific and symbolic value are produced in tandem. It also sheds light on the devices that anchor this paradoxical composition.

This article is primarily addressed to scholars in geography and environmental sociology, particularly those interested in the spatial politics of conservation, the creation and maintenance of protected areas, and the entanglements of science, space, and environmental management. Our aim is to contribute to interdisciplinary debates on how protected areas are materially and institutionally composed, with particular attention to spatial differentiation, scientific activity as a mode of inhabitation, and processes of inclusion and exclusion. While the article engages with literature from history of science and political ecology, its core contribution lies in advancing a spatially grounded conceptualisation of protected areas as zones of paradoxical composition. We focus here on theory-building rather than policy prescriptions, although our findings also have operational relevance for conservation practitioners.

After introducing the Lauvitel integral reserve and outlining our methodological approach, we analyse the spatial devices operating at the reserve's boundaries, within its core, and beyond its perimeter, showing how they sustain its dual framing as both a site of strict protection and a hotspot of scientific activity. In the discussion, we situate our findings within broader theoretical debates—highlighting how our approach sheds new light on scientific presence in protected areas, engages with questions of Earth's habitability, and opens avenues for future research on environmental justice.

## 2. Case study

### 2.1. The Lauvitel integral reserve

Covering 689 ha, or 0.7 % of the park's core area (Fig. 1), the Lauvitel integral reserve was officially designated by decree in 1995, making it a pioneering example of a space where conservation and scientific knowledge production are deliberately composed. However, this designation was only the latest stage in a long series of transformations.

Situated in the core of the Écrins national park in the Southern French Alps, the Lauvitel valley has been moulded by both natural processes and human activity. Just a few millennia ago, a major landslide formed a natural dam, creating lake Lauvitel (Delunel et al., 2010), which lies at an altitude of 1500 m. Locally known as the ‘Fond du Lauvitel’, the upper Lauvitel valley lies south of the lake. It is surrounded by high ridges (2500-3000 m) with steep, north-facing slopes. Access is arduous, requiring either a strenuous hike along a precarious ledge or transportation by boat, giving the area an island-like sense of isolation.

Despite its difficult access, the upper Lauvitel valley has a long history of human occupation. Archaeological evidence indicates prehistoric settlements, including a rock shelter that was subsequently supplemented with a built structure (Mocci et al., 2024). Over millennia, the upper valley has been used for diverse purposes. Historical accounts (Bocquet, 1995) document cattle grazing until the mid-20th century. The area also attracted outside users, including a sheep farmer from Arles and noble families who hunted chamois in the valley from the late
<figure><img src="image_3.png" /><figcaption>Fig. 1. Location of the Lauvitel integral reserve within the Écrins national park, with inset showing its position in France.</figcaption></figure>

19th to the mid-20th century. On the northern shore of the lake, six barely visible chalets stand on the dike. All but one are still owned by wealthy families with links to the valley. These successive uses of the upper valley have modified its fauna, flora and landscape through the construction of paths and stone walls.

Conservation initiatives began with the designation of Lake Lauvitel and its surroundings as a heritage site in 1941. The establishment of the Écrins national park in 1973 marked a turning point, as hunting was banned, prompting landowners to sell 974 ha of the valley to the state, officially transferred to the park in 1980. Leveraging the hunting ban, challenging access, and park ownership, the park director in the 1990s proposed designating the upper Lauvitel valley as the first integral reserve within a French national park. Following extensive consultations with the park's scientific committee and the French National Council for the Protection of Nature, the proposal resulted in the reserve's official creation in 1995.

## 2.2. Data collection and analysis

To investigate how the upper Lauvitel valley came to be framed as a 'strictly protected area for science', we combined documentary analysis, semi-directed interviews, and participant observation.

Our core documentary dataset included administrative documents related to the reserve's creation and management (e.g., scientific committee minutes, decrees, management plans, and visitor surveys) and research reports and publications (e.g., Landon, 2010). We

supplemented these with materials from a concurrent evaluation of the reserve conducted by the park authority and content from the park website. Taken together, these documents provided a comprehensive account of the reserve's administrative and scientific history and an overview of research activities undertaken since the 1990s (Fig. 2).

We conducted two waves of semi-directed interviews: the first in 2011 (n = 19) (Chabert, 2011) and the second in 2024 (n = 15, including three repeat participants from the 2011 campaign). Interviews were audio-recorded and fully transcribed. We targeted informants with a strong and sustained connection to the upper Lauvitel valley, focusing on their professional and personal experiences of the reserve, including its spatial and material layout, emotional resonance, and evolving uses. Interviewees included scientific, administrative and managerial park staff, as well as scientists involved in research related to the reserve or as members of the park's scientific committee. Additional informants in 2011 included an IUCN expert. In 2024, the interviews were expanded to include a local elected official, a descendant of a family who historically hunted in the valley and currently owns a lakeside chalet, and a writer drafting a novel inspired by the reserve. Our goal was not to cover every possible user group, but rather to capture the perspectives of individuals moderately or heavily involved in the reserve since its inception. These interviews provided rich insights into diverse perceptions of the reserve and, particularly through the repeat interviews carried out in 2024, into evolving access rules and environmental changes over time.

Participant observation complemented our interviews through supervised field visits to the reserve in 2011 and 2024. In 2011, we
<figure><img src="image_4.png" /><figcaption>Fig. 2. Timeline of scientific studies conducted in the Lauvitel integral reserve since the 1990s.</figcaption></figure>

accompanied naturalists monitoring common birds, and in 2024, we joined a postdoctoral researcher studying climate change impacts on mountain plant communities. These 'rubber boot' field visits (Bubandt et al., 2022) highlighted the practical challenges of conducting research in the valley's rugged terrain, including dense vegetation and a lack of trails. They also revealed landscape features bearing witness to the valley's layered history (Mathews, 2022), and the scientific infrastructure that now populates it. Additionally, we attended three seminars organised by the park's scientific department at the park chalet on the lake's northern bank. Field notes and photographs documented these experiences.

All collected materials—documents, interviews, and field notes—were systematically analysed using MaxQDA qualitative analysis software. Coding focused on identifying factors differentiating the reserve from the surrounding areas, the origins and effects of these distinctions, the spatial distribution of human activities and infrastructure, and the adaptation of scientific objectives and methods within the reserve.

### 3. Three compositional devices

Our analysis showed that the creation and maintenance of the Lauvitel integral reserve depend on three spatially distributed devices that collectively facilitate scientific research within a strictly protected area. Although they operate synergistically, the first two —filtering and discretion— are particularly interrelated in regulating access and activity. For analytical clarity, we treat them separately: filtering governs who is permitted to enter the reserve and under what conditions, while discretion addresses how scientific activity is conducted within the

reserve to minimise disturbance and visibility. This distinction highlights the spatial and procedural logics underpinning each device.

#### 3.1. On the boundary: Filtering

The demarcation and surveillance of the reserve's boundaries are central to its dual role as a conservation and scientific space. A filtering device ensures that the general rule of human exclusion is selectively relaxed for two specific groups: scientists, whose access is essential to the reserve's mission, and local residents, whose limited access is tolerated. The following sections explore how these exceptions are framed and implemented.

##### 3.1.1. Human exclusion as the default rule

The existence of the Lauvitel integral reserve is based on its differentiation from the rest of the Écrins national park, which in turn contrasts with its surroundings. While this differentiation is partly a product of the valley's topography—natural barriers such as the lake and steep ridges limit access—additional measures have been taken to reinforce exclusion.

Access is formally prohibited, except for selected scientists and a small number of supervised visitors (see below). Interestingly, this policy applies only to humans and domestic animals; even wild species often deemed undesirable, such as wild boar, are not prevented from entering.

In order to enforce this rule, the northern part of the valley, particularly the accessible shores of the lake, is closely monitored, due to the high number of tourists —up to 1000 per day and 100 per night in the summer. Informants noted a sharp post-pandemic increase and drastic
change in visitors to the lake, and criticised newcomers for lacking the
appropriate ‘mountain codes of behaviour’. Recent research (Fintz,
2024) confirms this growing diversity, identifying a majority of
seasoned mountaineers from higher-income, well-educated social clas-
ses, and a minority of newcomers from modest neighbourhoods in Lyon
and Grenoble. In response, field staff have intensified control efforts
through outreach, enhanced monitoring and enforcement:

> ‘To ensure that the integral reserve remains an integral reserve, we’ve had to change the way we work, with more surveillance, more policing, more support for the public, more awareness raising’ (park field staff n°2, 19/03/2024).<fnref n="1" />

Our informants viewed the reserve as an invaluable asset for the park and the wider area, with its dedication to the production of scientific knowledge seen as a self-evident outcome of its status: ‘It’s an open-air laboratory. It’s a space whose legal status means it’s made available for knowledge’ (park field staff n°2, 19/03/2024). However, some park agents also described the reserve as a ‘burden’ that diverts resources from other valuable areas of the park. Notably, much of this effort is not devoted to preventing entry, but to facilitating scientific access to the reserve.

3.1.2. *Generating and controlling scientific activity*

Scientific activity was the primary justification for establishing the
reserve, and this rationale remains widely accepted among informants.
However, maintaining this status requires that scientists actively use the
space.

The reserve offers several advantages to scientists: long-term obser-
vation sites, minimal disturbance, and secure infrastructure. However, it
also imposes significant constraints: obtaining permits, coordinating
logistics, and navigating strict protocols. In addition, there was no sci-
entific activity in the upper Lauvitel valley prior to the reserve's desig-
nation. This combination of restrictions and lack of prior studies initially
resulted in the number of entry permits being well below the authorised
quota (see Fig. 3). In response, the park's scientific department devel-
oped strategies to attract researchers and transform the reserve into a
'hotspot of scientific activity' (a soil scientist). These strategies included
marking observation sites in the field (Fig. 4), offering logistical and
scientific support, including the reserve in high-profile research pro-
grammes, seeking IUCN recognition and giving scientists a role in ac-
tivity regulation through the scientific committee. Ongoing scrutiny of
entry quotas (Fig. 3) aims to ensure that scientific activity meets ex-
pectations.<fnref n="2" /> Fig. 5

At the same time, the park authorities must demonstrate that sci-
entific activities do not compromise conservation objectives. From the
outset, access has been regulated through an annual quota of nominative
authorisations. This process involves early dialogue between researchers
and park staff, followed by a review by the scientific committee and final
approval by the park director. This procedure, which can take several
months, was described as generally smooth:

> ‘We issue about ten or twelve permits a year. It’s not a huge number, and it’s something that works. [...] By the time I receive the request to enter the reserve, it’s all sorted out. I know that everything is already in place’ (park administrative officer, 14/05/2024).

Once authorised, scientists remain under supervision. Except for
night work or highly experienced scientists, all are accompanied by park
staff:

> ‘We don’t hand over the keys of the reserve [...]. The park keeps control of what goes on in the integral reserve. This is really important’ (park field staff n°3, 29/04/2024).

Park staff thus take on multiple roles: guides, technicians, and
‘sherpas’, as one member of the park’s scientific department described
them, while also enforcing the reserve’s rules.

Scientists acknowledged the exclusivity of their access, often
describing it as a privilege. However, official documents sometimes
obscure this scientific exception. For example, the minutes of a 2010
meeting of national park directors state: ‘It is understood that integral
reserves are areas without human activity.’ This silence contrasts with
the minor exception made for local residents.

3.1.3. *Concessions to local people*

During the reserve's inception, limited firewood collection was
permitted for the owners of the Lauvitel chalets as part of a gradual
transition towards strict conservation. A further exception was intro-
duced following the IUCN homologation process in the early 2010s. To
avoid rejection due to a perceived lack of transparency, the IUCN expert
recommended opening the reserve to a certain degree. As a compromise,
the park director authorised up to 15 non-scientific visitors annually,
prioritised through a concentric system:

> ‘We prioritise the people who live in the chalets on the Lauvitel dike (...) That way they can see what we’re doing. It alleviates frustration and it gets people on board [...]. I’ve seen people who were angry that they couldn’t go leave with tears in their eyes, saying: thank you, we understand better. That’s it, I’m not angry with you anymore’ (agent of the park scientific department, 27/02/2024).

3.2. *Inside: maintaining discretion*

While informants presented discretion as standard practice for field
scientists, they repeatedly characterised the scientists' behaviour within
the reserve as particularly 'discreet'. This quest for discretion clearly
plays a key role in legitimising scientific activity. Achieving this requires
strategic adjustments to the organisation of research teams and scientific
protocols.

3.2.1. *Adapting team size and organisation*

The quota system requires scientific teams to limit their presence,
necessitating meticulous planning:

> ‘For the upper Lauvitel valley, I calculate the number of people we send out into the field as tightly as possible. In fact, I would send two more people to all the other field sites’ (ecology research programme leader, 20/03/2024).

This limitation often results in longer working days and more intense
sessions:

> ‘The aim was to get the most out of each intervention. So I slept for two or three hours a day at most. I was really on my toes. I was working day and night’ (entomologist, 26/03/2024).

Another tactic is task redistribution. For example, an entomologist
recounted how he collected butterflies in the reserve, while a colleague
sorted and prepared them outside:

> ‘So there was only one person in the reserve, but in the end there were two of us working’ (26/03/2024).

3.2.2. *Adjusting protocols and instruments*

Fieldwork involves specialised instruments, such as insect traps for
entomologists, and picks and shovels for archaeologists. However,
standard working practices are often modified to align with the con-
servation ethos of the reserve. This involves banning methods that are

<footnote n="1">¹ All the following interview excerpts have been translated from French.</footnote>

<footnote n="2">² See https://www.ecrins-parcnational.fr/thematique/reserve-integrale-du-lauvitel</footnote>
<figure><img src="image_5.png" /><figcaption>Fig. 3. Annual authorised and actual entries into the Lauvitel integral reserve (1996–2024). Source: Écrins national park.</figcaption></figure>

<figure><img src="image_6.png" /><figcaption>Fig. 4. Scientific equipments of the Lauvitel integral reserve.</figcaption></figure>

deemed overly intrusive, such as excavating anthills for invertebrate inventories. Similarly, vegetation clearance around archaeological sites was replaced with selective weeding:

‘I said: we know it’s very complicated for you but you’re in an integral reserve. We’re not going to allow you to remove all the vegetation around the rock shelter’ (agent of the scientific department, 27/02/2024).

However, outright bans remain rare, with alternative solutions such as the miniaturisation of observation instruments being favoured instead. For example, LIDAR technology was implemented using a drone rather than a helicopter:

‘The drone is a bit less impactful, it’s quieter and doesn’t use kerosene. There are no atmospheric emissions. Okay, it takes longer in the end and is probably more expensive (...), but that’s just the way it is. There’s no helicopter’ (former reserve manager, 14/03/2024).

Scientists are also using digital technology to reduce their impact. Since the reserve's creation, the overall trend has been to replace human presence with remote technologies, provided the production of scientific data remains unaffected. This trend is likely to continue, as both park staff and scientists are keen to adopt tools that reduce the environmental footprint as well as the logistical constraints of conducting research in a strictly protected area. As one soil scientist explained: "If I find techniques that help reduce impact, I try to apply them everywhere" (10/01/2024). These adaptations prioritise reducing the environmental impact and, crucially, the traces left on the landscape. Reversibility has become a guiding principle:

"There is no permanent equipment; everything is temporary. [...] Everything can be dismantled and easily removed" (park field staff n°2, 19/03/2024).

Discretion ensures that the upper Lauvitel valley aligns with
<figure><img src="image_7.png" /><figcaption>**Fig. 5.** Schematic map of the Lauvitel integral reserve showing the spatial distribution of the three compositional devices: filtering, discretion, and (re)presentation.</figcaption></figure>

expectations of a strictly protected area, despite heavy use by scientists:

*'Normally, in ten years' time, there will be no trace of the paint. The basic idea is to have as little impact as possible, whether it's visual, physical, or otherwise. The idea is to leave no trace'* (former reserve manager, 14/03/2024).

### 3.3. Outside: creating engagement

While traces of scientific activity within the reserve are minimised, visibility outside is actively cultivated. Facilities and heavy equipment for data collection have been set up on the northern shore of the lake, just outside the reserve. Furthermore, scientific findings are widely disseminated, and the reserve is represented externally through imagery and narratives, in stark contrast to the discretion maintained within its boundaries.

#### 3.3.1. Settling on the edge

Scientific infrastructure is deliberately located just outside the reserve to avoid internal restrictions. A notable example is the weather station, established on the northern shore of the lake in 2002. This location was chosen to provide optimal meteorological data for the reserve while remaining just outside its boundaries (see Fig. 4).

Another essential piece of infrastructure located just outside the reserve is the park's chalet (Fig. 6a and b). In 2001, the park rented and then purchased one of the six chalets located on the dyke on the northern shore of Lake Lauvitel. Over time, park staff have developed a close relationship with the other chalet owners, providing small services, while the owners occasionally report breaches of reserve regulations to park staff.

The chalet comprises a tiny kitchen with a wood stove (see Fig. 6b) and a shed on the ground floor, as well as two dormitories upstairs. It is pictured as a 'base camp' between the nearest car park and the upper

valley, enabling scientists to remain close to the reserve without having to camp out or descend into the valley on multi-day missions:

*'A polar expedition always has a rear base, or even front bases. It's the same here; the research needs it. We've found a solution to make it work'* (agent of the park scientific department, 27/02/2024).

Initially of the most rudimentary type, the chalet has been gradually improved, notably by renovating and insulating the roof and installing running water and electricity. However, it remains simpler than the mountain field stations described in the literature (Aubin, 2009; Coen, 2009; Audibert, 2019; Vetter, 2012; Heggie, 2016). The chalet provides the scientists with a place to sleep, eat, and prepare and continue their observations, measurements and specimen collections in the reserve. For example, taxonomists begin identifying specimens collected in the reserve at the chalet, and during our last visit an intern was pre-processing the leaves collected by colleagues in the reserve.

In addition to hosting scientists, the park's scientific department organises seminars almost every year at the chalet, making it a meeting and living space on the edge of the reserve. Its location enables the possibility that is inherent in field science to be transferred outside the reserve. The chalet's cramped, rustic layout deliberately encourages intimacy and interaction between the various people who stay there for different lengths of time: mainly scientists from different disciplines, park agents on patrol, trail maintenance workers, and occasionally journalists or photographers.

The presence of park staff at the Lauvitel chalet adds a convivial dimension to the scientists' experience, making the chalet a place where researchers and park staff share special moments while preparing and eating meals, discussing their respective activities, and appreciating the high mountain landscapes and nature. The scientists and students all spoke of the pleasure of spending time at the chalet during often intense work sessions:
<figure><img src="image_8.png" /><figcaption>Fig. 6. a Exterior view of the Park chalet. b: Interior of the Park chalet. c: View into the Lauvitel integral reserve from the Park chalet.</figcaption></figure>
‘It’s also a place to meet and talk. [...] N. said the next day that he’d rarely had such a cool evening in his life. [...] And so that’s part of it, it’s the... the unspeakable part, which also justifies the existence of the reserve’ (a soil scientist, 10/04/2024).

Finally, the chalet’s elevation above the lake enables the reserve to be observed, imagined and discussed from afar, without entering it physically (Fig. 6c):

‘The strength of Lauvitel is that you don’t have to be inside it to enjoy the Lauvitel experience. [...] You can enjoy it from the chalet or from all these peripheral paths, without entering the integral reserve and... without being counted among those who have crossed it or have had an impact on it’ (a botanist, 11/04/2024).

It is from the northern shore of the lake, and especially from the park chalet, that narratives and images of the reserve are crafted and then disseminated to both the scientists the park hopes to attract, and the non-scientists who cannot enter the reserve. These narratives and images contribute to (re)presenting the reserve beyond its boundaries.

### 3.3.2. (Re)presenting

The work carried out within and on the edge of the reserve shapes mediated representations that travel beyond the Lauvitel valley. One dominant narrative portrays the reserve as a space of ‘pristine’ nature, rewilled against the global tide of artificialisation. Building on the reserve’s relative remoteness and restricted access, this narrative evokes imagery of a ‘lost world’ or a ‘new world’ (park field staff). However, this perspective contrasts with the area’s long history of human use, as well as the significant activity generated by its designation as an area strictly protected for science. A second narrative employs the imagery of scientific expeditions:

‘It’s like an expedition, in the imaginary it generates. You can still have an adventure in France’ (agent of the park’s scientific department, 27/02/2024).

A central motif in these narratives is the experience of crossing the lake, which accentuates the sense of otherness and seclusion within the reserve. Scientists recounted this experience as transformative and memorable:

‘It was the first time I had to use a boat for my fieldwork. And we used this little rowboat. The beautiful atmosphere of foggy mornings made it quite extraordinary. [...] It was a truly exceptional research field. I have very strong memories of it’ (palaeoecologist, 09/04/2024).

These narratives are cultivated not only by science. Building on the growing momentum of science-art initiatives, park authorities actively foster creative projects inspired by the reserve, including photography exhibitions, plans for a novel and a comic strip:

‘I’m very happy that there’s an impetus beyond science. A writer is working on a novel about the reserve, and another is planning a comic strip about Lauvitel. [...] A photographer is also considering an exhibition on the reserve’ (agent of the park scientific department, 27/02/2024).

Additionally, park staff devote considerable effort to disseminating the outcomes of scientific research via publications, media articles, the park website, and an increasing number of conferences and exhibitions targeting local audiences, including residents and tourists. These outreach efforts often highlight the discovery of species new to science, France, or the park. As one member of the scientific committee explained, these efforts aim to make the reserve ‘transparent’ — enabling people to ‘see into it’ without physically entering:

‘The term “integral” must go hand in hand with a kind of transparency that allows people to understand what it means—to know what happens inside and what is expected of that space. In a way, people should be able to look inside’ (19/04/2011).

During our 2024 research campaign, the park’s scientific department was planning to develop virtual tours of the upper Lauvitel valley to enhance mediated accessibility while preserving the reserve’s exclusivity.

Altogether, these representations serve to imaginatively ‘inhabit’ the upper valley, enabling interest in, and appreciation of, the reserve from afar. This mediated engagement is expected to inspire scientists to participate in research, while cultivating public admiration for a space they cannot physically access.

## 4. Discussion

Our informants considered the opportunity to conduct intensive scientific activities within a strictly protected area for granted. Nevertheless, the expression ‘strictly protected for science’ provokes an intriguing question: how can a space be strictly protected if it is explicitly dedicated to a human activity? Through the case of the Lauvitel integral reserve, we have specifically studied the devices that allow the composition of conservation and scientific knowledge production in a given space. Beyond this specific case, we propose to reconceptualise protected areas as zones of paradoxical composition—spaces where an objective of deinhabitation and an objective of reinhabitation are simultaneously pursued.

While the Lauvitel integral reserve is a particularly specific case—small in scale, highly regulated, and relatively isolated—we argue that its apparent exceptionality makes visible a set of devices that may be less perceptible in larger or more accessible protected areas. Its spatial compactness and institutional clarity allow for an in-depth, fine-grained analysis of how conservation and scientific activity are composed. While not all protected areas operate under the same conditions, we believe the conceptual framework developed here—zones of paradoxical composition—offers a valuable lens for analysing them across varied scales and contexts.

### 4.1. Zones of paradoxical composition

According to Etelain (2017: 116), zones emerge from spaces ‘that stand out from the rest and impose themselves by virtue of their qualities’. Her theory of zones invites to envision space as dynamic and differentiated rather than uniform and static in a Euclidean sense. The Lauvitel valley exemplifies this spatial dynamism. Geologically recent, lake Lauvitel has significantly reshaped the use of the upper valley by human (and other-than-human) populations since prehistoric times. Human activities, such as pastoralism, have physically modified the space. The spatial differentiation of the space continues under the influence of climate change, which drives the upward shift of vegetation at higher elevations (Choler et al., 2021) and warms the lake, enhancing its appeal for urban dwellers seeking relief from overheated cities (Fintz, 2024). The case of the upper Lauvitel valley also highlights the specific qualities of the space. The high ridges and the lake encircling the area act as natural barriers, facilitating control, while evoking imagery of a secluded and pristine area.

The establishment of the integral reserve is therefore not about constructing space ex nihilo, as a radical approach to social constructionism might suggest. Rather, it is a matter of amplifying and reshaping its existing characteristics, and contributing to its ongoing differentiation. The upper Lauvitel valley remains part of human life and activity, and its designation as an integral reserve has intensified rather than reduced its human utilisation and inhabitation. Our analysis has revealed that this occurs through three spatially distributed devices. At the reserve’s boundary, a filtering device regulates access, permitting only selected individuals to enter and reinforcing the area’s perceived exceptionality. Within the reserve, another device ensures that scientific activities are conducted discreetly, thereby maintaining the illusion of an untouched, ‘pristine’ area. In contrast to this required discretion, a third device projects the reserve beyond its boundaries through the
establishment of peripheral infrastructure and the crafting and dissem-
ination of compelling narratives and imagery.

This approach to protected areas complements previous literature
informed by Foucauldian theories of biopower (see, e.g., De Bont, 2017;
Hennessy, 2018). Such studies have shown how protected areas govern
life by regulating the presence and absence of both human and
other-than-human actors. In particular, they have emphasised the
exclusion and, in some cases, eradication of certain species—such as
goats and feral pigs in the Galapagos (Hennessy, 2018)—to maintain
ecological purity and restore imagined baselines of biodiversity. While
valuable, this perspective tends to foreground the government of life and
species populations as the central mechanism of territorial control.

By contrast, our findings suggest that the Lauvitel integral reserve relies less on the biopolitical government of other-than-human life and more on spatial and institutional arrangements. In the case of Lauvitel, there is no active management of wild species —neither removal of invasive species nor reintroduction of native ones. Conservation is instead guided by a principle of minimal intervention. Rather than being oriented toward the restoration of an imagined ecological baseline, the reserve is left to evolve with minimal human interference. The three devices underpinning its creation and maintenance are not primarily about regulating life itself, but about managing the spatial, material, and symbolic conditions that sustain the reserve's paradoxical status as both strictly protected and scientifically intensively used.

This perspective opens new avenues for examining the role of sci-
entific activity in the spatial dynamics of conservation, the possibility
and desirability of de-inhabiting portions of the Earth, and the envi-
ronmental justice implications embedded in how access to and use of
protected areas are distributed.

The case of the Lauvitel integral reserve suggests that even the most
strictly protected areas are never merely left alone, at least not in the
European context. Rather, they are actively designed and managed as
hotspots of scientific research (or, in other cases, as sites for education,
green tourism, and sustainable pastoralism or controlled hunting).

## 4.2. Scientific activity, an unacknowledged mode of inhabiting protected areas

While the importance of science to nature conservation is well
acknowledged (De Bont, 2017; Hennessy, 2018), the physical presence
of scientific activity in strictly protected areas often goes unnoticed and,
when it is recognised, it is rarely considered a potential threat (Raby,
2015). The idea of science as an ally of conservation (Benson, 2012)—
unlike tourism, pastoralism, and hunting, which are often considered
more problematic— seems to preclude critical analysis of its activities.

In the Lauvitel integral reserve, science is not only an unquestioned activity; it is the official *raison d'être*. Integral reserves cannot be established within the core of a national park unless conservation is composed with scientific activity. Protected areas are frequently justified, sometimes retrospectively (Raby, 2019: 15), by the uniqueness of their biological or geological features, as seen in the Hawaiian volcanoes (Shih, 2019) or Barro Colorado Island (Raby, 2015). In other cases, justification is rooted in a long-standing history of research, as with the Galapagos Islands (Hennessy, 2018). In the upper Lauvitel valley, however, justification rested solely on its potential for future research. As an otherwise typical high-mountain environment with no prior studies, its scientific significance had to be actively constructed through the devices we have analysed. Other equally inaccessible places in the vicinity of the reserve have not acquired the same exceptional status, precisely because no scientific activity takes place there.

These findings raise broader questions about the relationship be-
tween knowledge production and spatial presence in protected areas. As
shown in the case of the Lauvitel integral reserve, scientific activity has
increasingly shifted toward remote sensing, digital instrumentation, and
minimal physical intervention. This trend aligns with the reserve's
conservation ethos and reflects a broader aspiration: to know without

disturbing, to observe without leaving a trace. However, such forms of
“remote knowledge” are neither neutral nor innocent. While knowing
from the outside—through the production of scientific data via remote
technologies—leaves no visible trace, it still constitutes a form of
inhabiting space. This mode of remote inhabitation likely diminishes the
sensory and affective attachments that develop through direct,
embodied engagement with a place (Lorimer, 2008). Moreover, it ex-
ternalises certain costs: the environmental and material toll of produc-
ing, powering, and disposing of technological devices is necessarily
borne elsewhere. The apparent erasure of human presence thus relies on
an uneven spatial distribution of ecological burden.

Strictly protected areas such as the Lauvitel integral reserve should therefore be understood as places that enable and shape new forms of inhabitation —especially scientific ones, rather than as zones of pure de-inhabitation.

4.3. *De-inhabiting the earth?*

Our epoch is haunted by the question of Earth's habitability (Chakrabarty 2021; Gaillardet, 2023; Etelain, 2023). Astrobiologists define habitability broadly as 'the ability of an environment to support the activity of at least one known organism' (Cockell et al., 2016: 2). The question of habitability highlights the need to re-inhabit the Earth differently—by imagining alternative modes of inhabiting the planet, whether radically new or inspired by human cultures that have cultivated respectful relationships with other-than-human beings, or even by the patterns and needs of other-than-human beings themselves (Tsing et al., 2019, 2024). At first sight, the establishment of protected areas seems to offer an alternative: de-inhabiting portions of the Earth, leaving certain portions of space to other-than-human beings to evolve independently. Our study, while not answering it, raises the question whether fully de-inhabiting a portion of the Earth is desired, desirable and possible. Are there examples of protected areas where all human activities—including scientific research conducted from outside the site—have been deliberately and permanently excluded? And if so, what have been the consequences for the human and other-than-human beings that were inhabiting these places? These questions highlight issues of environmental justice that we will address in future research.

4.4. *Avenues for future research on environmental justice*

Environmental justice has become a prominent theme in the litera-
ture on protected areas (Deldrève and Hérat, 2012; Rumore, 2012;
Hennessy, 2018; Blanc, 2020). We believe that reconceptualising pro-
tected areas as zones of paradoxical composition offers a productive lens
for understanding why such areas remain subject to contestation—even
in the context of escalating environmental crises. Precisely because they
combine an objective of de-inhabitation and forms of re-inhabitation,
protected areas necessarily involve choices: certain activities and
groups are excluded, while others—often with greater political, eco-
nomic, or scientific capital—are privileged. These asymmetries expose
protected areas to critiques rooted in environmental justice.

However, in the case of the Lauvitel integral reserve, overt contestation appears limited, despite clear inequalities in access and use. While further investigation—particularly through interviews with tourists and local residents beyond chalet-owning families—is needed to confirm this apparent absence of strong dissent, it raises a compelling question: to what extent do the spatial and institutional devices underpinning protected areas actively suppress, soothe, or prevent the expression of contestation and perceived injustice? This question opens a promising avenue for future research, which could examine not only the existence of inequalities, but the conditions under which they are recognised, challenged, or silenced.
# 5. Conclusion

Drawing on the recent theory of zones (Etelain, 2023) and the ety-mology of ‘composition’ —placing together within the same space— we have reconceptualised protected areas as zones of paradoxical composition, where objectives of de-inhabitation and re-inhabitation unfold simultaneously through human activities that reshape the landscape. This perspective has allowed us to highlight the spatiality of composing with environmental matters, an aspect that remains underexplored in Latourian scholarship on the composition of common worlds (e.g., Latour, 2004). Through the case of the Lauvitel integral reserve, we have specifically investigated the devices that facilitate the composition of conservation and scientific knowledge production.

We believe that further research building on this conceptualisation would be particularly valuable, and one of us (anonymised for the review process) has already outlined the orientations and methods for such a programme. By investigating protected areas across diverse economic, social, political, and ecological contexts, this research would examine how different agendas and logics intersect in their creation and maintenance, how diverse devices seek to compose these agendas, and how they generate or mitigate injustices and feelings of injustice among different groups. Of the three compositional devices identified in the Lauvitel integral reserve, we anticipate that the filtering device will be found in all protected areas, albeit in varying forms and intensities. The discretion and representation devices that we observed respectively inside and outside the reserve may be replaced or complemented in other protected areas by other devices that remain to be explored. We therefore hope that this study will serve as a first step towards a more nuanced understanding of protected areas as zones of paradoxical composition, and inspire further exploration of the complexities, compromises and contradictions inherent in these spaces.

# Funding sources

This work was supported by the Écrins National Park (Convention n°322/2023).

# CRediT authorship contribution statement

**Isabelle Arpin:** Writing – review & editing, Writing – original draft, Validation, Supervision, Project administration, Methodology, Investigation, Funding acquisition, Data curation, Conceptualization. **Kewan Mertens:** Writing – review & editing, Conceptualization. **Quentin Bouchu:** Writing – original draft, Visualization, Methodology, Investigation, Data curation.

# Declaration of Competing Interest

The authors have nothing to declare.

# Acknowledgements

We warmly thank the staff of the Écrins national park for their invaluable assistance in organising our stays at the Lauvitel chalet and facilitating our visits to the integral reserve. Their help in providing access to archival material and arranging interviews with scientists and residents was vital to our research. We are particularly grateful to Richard Bonet for a long, fruitful and enjoyable collaboration, and to François Couilloud for his generosity in answering our many questions and providing support far beyond expectations. We also thank all our informants for their time and insights into scientific work in a strictly protected area. We are grateful to the participants in the scientific seminars where we presented earlier versions of this work for their questions and suggestions. Finally, we thank Sarah Mermoud and Julien Vilman for their help with the figures and maps.

# Data availability

The authors do not have permission to share data.

# References

Alagona, P.S., 2012. A sanctuary for science: the Hastings natural history reservation and the origins of the university of california's natural reserve system. J. Hist. Biol. 45 (4), 651–680. https://doi.org/10.1007/s10739-011-9298-0.

Arpin, I., Cosson, A., 2021. Seeking legitimacy in european biodiversity conservation policies: the case of French national parks. Environ. Sci. Policy 116, 181–187. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.envsci.2020.11.011.

Aubin, D., 2009. The hotel that became an observatory: mount faulhorn as singularity, microcosm, and Macro-Tool. Sci. Context 22 (3), 365–386. https://doi.org/10.1017/S0269889709990056.

Audibert, C., 2019. Jungfraujoch. Lanceur d’alerte pour le climat. L’Alpe 84, 26–33.

Benson, E., 2012. Endangered science: the regulation of research by the U.S. Marine mammal protection and endangered species act. Hist. Stud. Nat. Sci. 42, 30–61. https://doi.org/10.1525/hsns.2012.42.1.030.

Blanc, G., 2020. l'invention du colonialisme vert. pour en finir avec le mythe de l'eden africain. Flammarion, Paris.

Bocquet V. (1995) Étude historique du vallon du Lauvitel. Parc national des Écrins, Gap.

Brockington, D., 2002. Fortress Conservation: The Preservation of the Mkomazi Game Reserve. Indiana University Press, Tanzania.

Bubandt, N., Oberborbeck Andersen, A., Cypher, R., 2022. Rubber Boots Methods for the Anthropocene: Doing Fieldwork in Multispecies Worlds. University of Minnesota Press. (https://www.upress.umn.edu/book-division/books/rubber-boots-meth-ods-for-the-anthropocene).

Chabert, A., 2011. Les réserves intégrales, une hétérotopie en actes ? Cas de la réserve intégrale du lauvitel. Mémoire De. Master Inst. D. ‘Etudes Polit. De. Grenoble.

Chakrabarty, D., 2021. The climate of history in a planetary age. University of Chicago Press, Chicago and London.

Choler, P., Bayle, A., Carlson, B.Z., et al., 2021. The tempo of greening in the european Alps: spatial variations on a common theme. Glob. Change Biol. 27, 5614–5628. https://doi.org/10.1111/gcb.15820.

Cockell, C.S., Bush, T., Bryce, C., et al., 2016. Habitability: a review. Astrobiology 16, 89–117.

Coen, D.R., 2009. The storm lab: meteorology in the Austrian Alps. Sci. Context 22 (3), 463–486. https://doi.org/10.1017/S0269889709990093.

Coz D. (2024) Humain-es, bêtes noires et dames grises: géographie plurielle des relations en humain-es et faune sauvage dans le grand delta du Rhône. Thèse de géographie de l'université de Montpellier.

De Bont, R., 2017. A world laboratory: framing the albert national park. Environ. Hist. 22, 404–532. https://doi.org/10.1093/envhis/emx020.

Debaive, N., Drapier, N., Gautier, G., et al., 2021. Forest protected areas and free evolution. Rev. For. ère Française 73, 339–365. : 10 20870/revforfr 2021 5474.

Deldrève, V., Hérat, A., 2012. Des inégalités garantes de la protection des calanques ? Un parc national dans l'agglomération marseillaise. VertigOla Rev. électronique En. Sci. De. l'Environ. 12. https://doi.org/10.4000/vertigo.12700.

Delunel, R., Hantz, D., Braucher, R., et al., 2010. Surface exposure dating and geophysical prospecting of the holocene lauvitel rock slide (French Alps). Landslides 7, 393–400. https://doi.org/10.1007/s10346-010-0221-0.

Dodier, N., Barbot, J., 2016. The force of dispositifs. Ann. Hist. Sci. Soc. 71 (2), 291–317. https://doi.org/10.1017/S2398568217000176.

Dudley, N., 2008. Guidelines for Applying Management Categories to Protected Areas. IUCN, Gland, Switzerland. (https://portals.iucn.org/library/node/9244).

Etelain, J., 2017. What do we call Zone? In search of a missed concept. Les Temps Modernes 692(1). Paris: Gallimard: 113–135. DOI 10.3917/ltm.692.0113.

Etelain, J., 2023. A Theory of Zones: Conceptualizing Space in the Planetary Era. Thèse de doctorat. Université Paris, p. 10.

Fintz, A., 2024. Un petit plouf ? Enquête Sur les pratiques et représentations des lacs d'altitude. Le cas des lacs de Pormenzan et du Lauvitel. Mémoire de master. Institut d'Etudes Politiques de Grenoble, p. 123.

Fletcher, R., 2010. Neoliberal environmentality: towards a poststructuralist political ecology of the conservation debate. Conserv. Soc. 8, 171–181. https://doi.org/10.4103/0972-4923.73806.

Gaillardet, J., 2023. La terre habitable ou l'épopée de la zone critique. La Découverte, Paris.

Griffiths, M., Mueni, F., Baker, K., et al., 2023. Decolonising spaces of knowledge production: mpala research centre in laikipia county, Kenya. Environ. Plan. E Nat. Space 6, 2340–2357. https://doi.org/10.1177/25148486231156728.

Heggie, V., 2016. Higher and colder: the success and failure of boundaries in high altitude and antarctic research stations. Soc. Stud. Sci. 46 (6), 809–832. https://doi.org/10.1177/0306312716636249.

Hennessy, E., 2018. The politics of a natural laboratory: claiming territory and governing life in the Galápagos islands. Soc. Stud. Sci. 48 (4), 483–506. https://doi.org/10.1177/0306312718788179.

Kupper, P., 2009. Science and The National parks: a transatlantic perspective on the interwar years. Environ. Hist. 14, 58–81. (https://www.jstor.org/stable/25473328).

Kupper, P., 2012. Wildnis schaffen. Eine transnationale geschichte des schweizerischen nationalparks. Haupt Verlag, Bern, Stuttgart, Wien.

Landon, J., 2010. Bilan de la réserve intégrale du lauvitel. Parc national des Écrins, Gap. Lascoumes, P., 1994. L'époque pouvoir. environnements et politiques. La Découverte, Paris.
Latour, B., 2004. *Politics of Nature. How to Bring the Sciences into Democracy*. Harvard University Press, Cambridge, MA.

Lorimer, J., 2008. Counting corncrakes: the affective science of the UK corncrake census. Soc. Stud. Sci. 38 (3), 377–405. https://doi.org/10.1177/0306312707084396.

Mathews, A.S., 2022. Walking in Italian forests and telling stories about global environmental change. In: Bubandt, N., Oberborbeck Andersen, A., Cypher, R. (Eds.), Rubber Boot Methods for the Anthropocene: Doing Fieldwork in Multispecies Worlds. University of Minnesota Press, pp. 39–66.

Ministère, 2022. Stratégie nationale pour les aires protégées 2030. Ministère de la transition écologique, France.

Mocci F., Tzortzis S., Dumas V., et al. (2024) Sites alpins de RILAUV. 01 et RILAUV. 02, Réserve intégrale du Lauvitel, Parc national des Écrins, rapport final d'opération archéologique 2022. Aix-Marseille Université; CNRS.

Otsuki, K., 2023. The violence of involuntary resettlement and emerging resistance in Mozambique's Limpopo national park: the role of physical and social infrastructure. Environ. Plan. E Nat. Space 6, 240–258. https://doi.org/10.1177/25148486221089161.

Raby, M., 2015. Ark and archive: making a place for long-term research on barro Colorado island, Panama. Isis 106, 798–824. (https://www.jstor.org/stable/26455497).

Raby, M., 2019. Slash-and-burn ecology: field science as land use. Hist. Sci. 57 (4), 441–468. https://doi.org/10.1177/0073275318819656.

Rumore, G., 2012. Preservation for Science: The Ecological Society of America and the Campaign for Glacier Bay National Monument. Journal of the History of Biology 45 (4). Springer: 613-650. DOI 10.1007/s10739-011-9301-9.

Shih, A., 2019. The most perfect natural laboratory in the world: making and knowing hawaii national park. Hist. Sci. 57 (4), 493–517. https://doi.org/10.1177/0073275319848966.

Therville, C., 2013. From protectionist clichés to integrative approaches: the example of France's nature reserves. Thesis from the University of Western Brittany-Brest.

Tsing, A.L., Mathews, A.S., Bubandt, N., 2019. Patchy anthropocene: landscape structure, multispecies history, and the retooling of anthropology: an introduction to supplement 20. S186-97 Curr. Anthropol. 60 (S20). https://doi.org/10.1086/703391.

Tsing, A.L., Deger, J., Keleman Saxena, A., Zhou, F., 2024. Field Guide to the Patchy Anthropocene - The New Nature. Stanford University Press, Stanford, California.

UN, 2022. Decision Adopted by the Conference of the Parties to the Convention on Biological Diversity. United Nations.

Unks, R., Goldman, M.J., Mialhe, F., et al., 2021. People should also look after the people: relational values of wildlife and collectively titled land in ilkisongo maasai group ranches in Southern Kenya. Ecol. Soc. 26 (3), 28. https://doi.org/10.5751/ES-12539-260328.

Vetter, J., 2012. Labs in the Field? Rocky Mountain Biological Stations in the Early Twentieth Century. Journal of the History of Biology 45(4). Springer: 587-611. DOI: 10.1007/s10739-011-9302-8.