d States

wpartment of Wilderness Benchmark 1988:

Agkdture

Forest Service Proceedings of the

National Wilderness Colloquium

Southeastern Forest Tampa, Florida

Experiment Station January 13-14, 1988

General Technic&

Report SE-51
Whenever possible, authors supplied their papers as electronic recordings;

they therefore are responsible for content and accuracy. Opinions expressed

are the authors’ and do not necessarily reflect positions of the U.S.

Department of Agriculture.

The use of any trade, firm, or corporation names in this publication is for

the information and convenience of the reader. Such use does not constitute

an official endorsement or approval by the U.S. Department of Agriculture

of any product or service to the exclusion of others that may be suitable.

January 1989

Southeastern Forest Experiment Station

P.O. Box 2680

Asheville, NC 28802
Wilderness Benchmark 1988:

proceed ings of th e

NATIONAL WILDERNESS COLLOQUIUM

Tam pa, Florida, January 13- 14, I9 88

Compiler:

H ELEN R. FREILICH

South easte rn Forest Expe rim ent Station, U.S. D epartm ent of Agriculture, Forest Se rvice
FOREW ORD

Th e USDA Forest Service is required by

the Renewable Resources Planning Act (RPA)

of 1974 to prepare an Assessment every ten

years. This document includes assessments of

ah resources of the National Forests and other

public lands, including wildlife, range, water,

timber, minerals, outdoor recreation, and

wilderness.

In January 1988, the Forest Service

sponsored Benchmark 1988, a national

conference held in Tampa, Florida. The

Conference was divided into two parts: the

National Wilderness Colloquium and the

National Outdoor Recreation and Wilderness

Forum. Presentations and discussions at this

conference were asource of information for

the Forest Service’s 1989 Assessment of

Outdoor Recreation and Wilderness.

The Proceedings are being published in

two separate volumes. This volume includes

over twenty papers addressing the wilderness

resource and its (non-recreational) values and

benefits to the American people. The second

volume reports current research in outdoor

recreation, including additional descriptions of

the wilderness resource with emphasis on

recreational use.

The Colloquium

Forty persons from throughout the United

States participated in the presentations and

group discussions of the 1988 National

Wilderness Colloquium. Invited participants

came from the National Park Service, USDA

Forest Service, Bureau of Land Management,

universities, private research groups and

environmental organizations. “Nonrecreational

uses and values of wilderness” were the

colloquium’s themes, reflecting the need to

describe and quantify all uses of wilderness.

The 1964 Wilderness Act specifically

authorizes a number of uses of wilderness.

Section 4b of the Act states that “wilderness

areas shall be devoted to the public purposes

of recreational, scenic, scientific, educational,

conservation, and historical use” (78 Stat 894).

Notwithstanding, research into the extent and

value of nonrecreational uses lags considerably

behind those of recreational uses and values.

Th is volume begins with an overview of

the National Wilderness Preservation System -

what it is now and what it could be in the

future. The overview papers are followed by

thirteen papers addressing specific nonrecreational uses and values of wilderness.

Authors were asked to include descriptions of

1) legislative guideli.nes influencing the use; 2)

inventory of use; 3) value of use; 4) trend in

use; and 5) issues and recommendations.

A short summary of discussions at the

colloquium and the results of a national

telephone survey are included in the Appendix.

Many of the ideas expressed in the discussion

groups were used in the preparation of the

RPA Assessment and are valuable reading for

wilderness mangers and planners. A number of

authors in these proceedings referenced the

telephone survey in their papers. A short

description of the procedure and the results of

the survey are included here.

Numerous individuals contributed to the

planning and organization of the colloquium

and the publication of the Proceedings. Pat

Reed of Colorado State University was the

principle organizer and worked closely with the

Outdoor Recreation and Wilderness Assessment

Group of the USDA Forest Service in Athens,

Georgia in selecting participants and soliciting

papers. Reviewers of colloquium papers

included: Evan DeBloois, Ken Cordell, Sarah

Greene, David Cole, Bev Driver, Gary Davis,

Tom King, Steve McCool, Perry Brown, David

Porter, Roger Clark, Robert Greenway, Alan

Ewert, Greg Alward, Jim Absher, Pat Long,

Terry Hartig, Ted McConnell, Susan Bratton,

William McLaughlin Walter Cook, Doug

Welhnan, Ross Gorte, Sally Ranney, Robert

Lucas, Joe Roggenbuck, Jim Omemick, Larry

Phillips, and Larry Hartmann.

We hope these proceedings will spark the

interest of researchers, planners, and managers

and they will be encouraged to add to the

information base presented here. More

information is necessary if we expect all

mandated uses and values of wilderness to be

considered equally in land management

decisions.

Helen R. Freilich, compiler

ii
CONTENTS

Introductory Remarks

H . K en Cord ell. . . . . . . 1

Overview

The First 23 Years and Beyond

Patrick C. Reed . . . . . . . . 2

The National Wilderness

Preservation System:

Threats to the National Wilderness

Preservation System

Joh n Peine, Joh n Burd e,

and W illiam H am m itt . . . . 21

Defacto Wilderness: Lands

Complementary to the National

Wilderness Preservation System

Curt Sope r and

Joh n W . H um k e . . . . . . . . 30

Understanding the Demand for More

Wilderness

M ich a e l M cClosk e y . . . . . . 38

Compatible and Incompatible

Interactions Between Recreation

and Nonrecreational Uses

of Wilderness

Joyce M. K elly . . . . . . . . . 45

The Future Wilderness System

Barry R . Flamm . . . . . . . . 54

The Nonrecreational Use of

Wilderness in the

International Context

G.N. W allace and

H arold K. Eidsvik . . . . . . . 66

Preservation Values

Preservation of Natural Diversity:

The Role of Ecosystem

Representation Within

Wilderness

George D. D avis . . . . . . . 76

Wilderness and the Protection

of Genetic Diversity

Cultural

Ch ristine Sch onew ald -Cox

and Th om as J. Stoh lgren . . 83

iesources and Wilderness

Loretta F. Neum an and

K ath le e n M . R einburg . . . . 92

Scientific Values

Environmental Monitoring

in Wilderness

Susan P. Bratton . . . . . . 103

The State of Ecological Research in

Forest Service Wilderness

Sarah E. Gre ene and

Je rry F. Frank lin . . . . . . 113

Social Research in Wilderness

R obe rt E. M anning . . . . . 120

Education Values

The Wilderness Environment: Training

Wilderness Managers

R ich ard H . Spray and

Paul D . W eingart . . . . . . 133

Social Value-s

Wilderness and Subsistence-Use

Opportunities: Benefits and

Limitations

R obert M . M uth and

R onald J. Glass . . . . . . . 142

Therapeutic Value of Wilderness

Lynn Levitt . . . . . . . . . . 156

The Role of Wilderness in Human

Development

D aniel R . W illiam s,

Lois H aggard , and

R ich ard Sch reye r . . . , . . 169

. . .

ill
PIP

The Nontraditional Public Valuation

(Option, Bequest, Existence)

of Wilderness

R ich ard G. W alsh and

Joh n BLoom is . . . . . . . . 181

The Spirit of Wilderness: The Use

and Opportunity of Wilderness

Experience for Spiritual Growth

Barbara M cD onald ,

R ich ard Guld in, and

G. R ich ard W eth e rill . . . . 193

Commercial Values

Appendix paw

Optimizing Nonrecreational

Wilderness Uses and Values:

Recommendations and Strategies

for the Next Ten Years

Patrick Reed ,

H . K en Cord eN,

and H elen R . Freilich . . . 2 16

Nonrecreational Uses of the

National Wilderness

Reservation System:

A 1988 Telephone Survey

Patrick C. Reed ,

Glen H aas, and

Lois Sh e rrick . , . . . . . . . 220

The Commercial Production Values

of Wilderness

Te rence York s . . . . . . . . 208

iv
INTRODUCTORY REMARKS

H , Ken Corde ll*

The Renewable Resources Planning Act

(RPA) Assessment covers the various uses of

natural resources such as timber, wildlife,

range, recreation, wilderness, minerals, and

water. Its purpose is to communicate the

importance of those resources and their

condition. This requires a series of analytical

steps to describe the resource, how it is

managed, the cost of managing it, the societal

and economic demands placed on the

resources, and the improvements needed to

meet those demands through better resource

management. All of this is aimed at

identifying what the future could be and what

role the Federal government should play in that

future.

To my knowledge, this is the first time

that we have had the opportunity as a group to

look at wilderness from the perspective that it

is much more than a recreational resource. In

the past, recreational uses of wilderness has

seemed to be a primary focus. This

Colloquium recognizes the many different uses

and values of wilderness and acknowledges

that we know very little about those uses

which we might call “nonrecreational”. We

need improved understanding of the nonrecreational uses and values of wilderness for

the upcoming RPA Assessment.

You are the experts. You have an

understanding of both the questions and the

answers concerning nonrecreational uses and

values and can greatly help us to better

evaluate the wilderness resource as an RPA

Assessment focus. Where there are no answers,

you can help us better formulate the questions

and pose them as a research agenda. Such a

research agenda will help guide future RPA

Assessments. We are most anxious to hear

what you have to say.

For this Colloquium, each of you have

been asked to examine a particular aspect of

wilderness. The information you provide will

be used for natural resources planning through

the Administration and in the RPA Assessment

report to the Congress. With your help we

will be better able to communicate the

importance of wilderness relative to some of

the other uses of natural resources. We will

also recommend a research program to improve

knowledge of wilderness uses and values in the

future.

We hope to see a repeat of this meeting at

the appropriate time in the future. At this

meeting we will reexamine what we said here

about the non-recreational uses and values of

wilderness. When we reconvene let us ask,

“Are there still holes in our knowledge about

this vast and vital wilderness resource and its

uses?” The goal is to improve the

management of wilderness, to create a better

base of information, and to effectively

communicate this information to those who am

making decisions.

*Project Leader, O utdoor R ecreation and W ild erness Assessm ent Group, South e aste rn Forest

Expe rim ent Station, USD A Forest Se rvice, Ath e ns, GA.

1
TH E NATIONAL W ILDERNESS

PRESERVATION SYSTEM:

TH E FIRST 23 YEARS AND BEYOND

Patrick C. Reed*

ABSTRACT

Follow ing nearly 10 years of

congressional debate, th e National W ild e rness

Preservation System w as created in 19 64.

Since th en th e System h as grow n in size and

geograph ic d istribution and now totals nearly

89 m illion acres in 44 diffe rent States. Th e

System h as been sh aped by existing patte rns of

Fede ral land ow ne rsh ip and is concentrated in

Alask a and th e 11 W este rn States.

Consid e rably m ore acreage m ay be eligible for

w ild e rness status; but, as th e System m atures,

attention w ill b egin to sh ift aw ay from

designation of new w ild e rness to th e

m anagem ent of existing w ild e rness. Th is paper

briefly describes th e past and present size and

d istribution of th e System , as w ell as som e of

th e issues associated w ith its future

com position and m anagem ent.

INTRODUCTION

Just over 23 years ago, and after nine long

years of effort, the U.S. Congress passed the

Wilderness Act (PL 88-577) in 1964 in order

to “establish a National Wilderness

Preservation System for the permanent good of

the whole people” (78 Stat 890). The first

system of its kind in the world, the National

Wilderness Preservation System (NWPS)

provides for the protection and preservation of

congressionally designated wilderness areas, or

“areas where the earth and its community of

life am untrammeled by man” and which retain

their “primeval character and influence” (16

USC 1131). Wilderness has outstanding

opportunities for solitude and a primitive form

of recreation, but may also contain any of a

number of non-recreational amenities such as

“ecological, geological, or other features of

scientific, educational, scenic, and historical

value” (16 USC 1131).

Initially, the NWPS was homogeneous in

several senses. With the passage of the

Wilderness Act 1964, the nine million acres of

the NWPS were all located within the National

Forest system. With the exception of the

Boundary Waters Canoe Area in Minnesota

and some 25,000 acres in New Hampshire and

North Carolina, it was also all located within

the 11 Western states.

Over the past 23 years, the NWPS has

become more diverse both in size and

geographic range. With more than 460 units

located in all but six States, the NWPS now

totals almost 89 million acres, or about 4

percent of the total land area of the United

States. Its units are now managed by four

different Federal agencies: the Forest Service,

National Park Service, Fish and Wildlife

Service, and Bureau of Land Management.

The next 10 years are likely to hold both

opportunity and more challenges to the

development of the NWPS. Decisions about

future wilderness additions may need to be

made jointly by the four agencies if the NWPS

is to obtain the richest diversity of natural and

cultural environments. Increased attention will

be given to management in order to insure that

the areas already within the NWPS

permanently retain their wilderness character.

The value of the many non-recreational uses of

wilderness will gain more recognition.

A LOOK BACK

Th e road to a national system for the

protection of wilderness lands was rocky and

long. Both popular and political appreciation

* Faculty Afiliate, De partm ent of R ecreation Resources and Landscape Arch itecture, Colorado State

Unive rsity, Fort Collins, CO .

2
of wilderness built slowly throughout the early

history of America and well into the middle of

this century (Allin 1985, Hendee and others

1978, Nash 1982). However, the road to

Federal support for wilderness preservation in

1964 was not entirely uncharted.

A Federal Track Record

Several Federal agencies now managing

designated wilderness did have some prior

experience in managing de facto wilderness (or

lands exhibiting wilderness-like characteristics

but not officially designated by Congress).

The National Park Service Act of 1916 created

and charged the new agency with, among other

things, keeping park scenery and wildlife

‘unimpaired for the enjoyment of future

generations” (39 Stat 535). Although early

backcountry preservation was largely ignored

in favor of recreational use (Foresta 1984), the

intent of subsequent park legislation for the

Grand Tetons in the late 1920’s and the

Everglades in the early 1930’s became much

clearer in its effort to preserve wilderness

values in the parks (Hendee and others 1978).

Like the National Park Service, the Forest

Service in its early years was also reluctant to

stand in the way of “progress” (Robinson

1975). However, largely through the efforts of

people like Aldo Leopold and Arthur Carhart,

the Forest Service began to set aside lands for

wilderness recreation beginning with the

574,000 acre Gila Wilderness Preserve (the

forerunner of current wilderness areas) in New

Mexico in 1924. By 1929, the Forest Service

had adopted an internal policy (the G20

Regulation) to manage and protect a system of

“primitive areas.” In 1939, the U-l, 2, and 3

Regulations further developed the formal

practice of protection and management of

wilderness, wild lands, and roadless areas.

The other Federal agencies that now

manage wilderness in the NWPS, the Fish and

Wildlife Service (then known as the Bureau of

Sport Fisheries and Wildlife) and the Bureau of

Land Management, essentially had no formal

lands to manage prior to the 1950’s because

they had no “organic” acts. Any protection of

diverse wilderness values (as later described in

the Wilderness Act) in national wiIdlife refuges

or public domain lands was probably fortuitous

since the enhancement of habitat and range

were major management policies of the

respective agencies (Hendee and others 1978,

Reed and Drabelle 1984).

Not withstanding the policies of the

federal agencies, Congress had acknowledged

the idea and value of a national network to

protect “strict wilderness reserves” as early as

1940 in a joint Pan-American agreement (56

Stat 1354). Still, if the way to a national

wilderness system was no longer uncharted, it

was not necessarily to be smooth. Regardless

of their earlier flirtations with backcountry and

wildland preservation, both the National Park

Service and the Forest Service were initiahy

opposed to Senator Hubert Humphrey’s early

attempts to introduce and pass the first national

wilderness bill beginning in 1956. It was

contrary to the National Park Service’s then

new ‘Mission 66” program which encouraged

more recreation-related development in the

parks (Foresta 1984). For its part, the Forest

Service was concerned with a number of

issues, including water and timber rights in the

proposed wilderness lands, and was also

opposed to such legislation (Allin 1982).

An Idea Comes of Age

Real help for a national system of

wilderness came with the recommendations of

the 1962 Outdoor Recreation Resources

Review Commission. The Commission

identified more than 28 million acres of

Federal, State, and private lands with

wilderness qualities (ORRRC 1962). Table 1

lists the Commission’s inventory of potential

wilderness by Federal agency.

As shown in table 2, most of the ORRRC

acreage recommendations were located in two

Western Regions’ (eleven Western States), but

none in Alaska.

Finally, after almost yearly attempts and

failures on 65 different wilderness bills,

Congress reached a compromise and passed the

Wilderness Act on September 3, 1964. The

newly created NWPS would become an

“overlay” on the existing National Forest, Park,

and Wildlife Refuge systems (Hendee and

others 1978). The purposes for which the

wilderness areas were designated was to be

3
Table 1. -- A comparison of the 1962 Outdoor Recreation Resources Review Commission

inventory of potential wilderness and the National Wilderness Preservation System as of December

31, 1987 (by Federal agency)

1962 ORRRC 1987 NWPS

potential acreage’ acreage2

Forest Service 18,967,590 32,411297

National Park Service 7276,000

Fish and Wildlife Service3

36.756.382

694,540

Bureau of Land Management

19,330,335

220,740

Bureau of Indian Affairs

470,779

State

560,650

291,240 :

Private l 193,630 0

United States 28,204,390 88,968,793

’ Source: Outdoor Recreation Resources Review Commission 1962.

2 Source: U.S. Department of Interior 1987a.

3 The Fish and Wildlife, Service replaced the Bureau of Sport Fisheries and Wildlife.

Table 2. -- A comparison of the 1962 Outdoor Recreation Resources Review Commission

inventory of potential wilderness and the National Wilderness Preservation System as of December

31, 1987 (by RPA Region)

RPA Region’

1962 ORRRC potential 1987 NWPS

wilderness acreage’ acreage’

Pacific Coast 7,944,800

Rocky Mountains-Great Plains

67,176,085

17,512,730 17,807,232

North

south

705,680 1,456,855

2,041,180 2.528.621

United States (excluding AK) 28,204,390

United States (including AK) 28,204,390

’ See Appendix for listing of States within each RPA Region.

2 Source: Outdoor Recreation Resources Review Commission 1962.

3 Source: U.S. Department of Interior 1987a.

32,484,117

88,968,793

4
Figure 1. -- Composition of the RPA Regions (by State) used in this paper

Figure 2. -- Yearly additions and total acreage for the National Wilderness Preservation System

(1964-1987)

Million Acres

100

80

60

40

20

0

64 65 66 67 68 69 70 7172 73 74 75 76 77 70 79 80 8102 83 84 85 86 87

YEARS (1964 THROUGH 1987)

ezd Original Acreage m Amended Acreage - Total Acreage

5
“within and supplemental” to the purposes for

which the [National Forest, Park, and Wildlife

Refuge systems are established and

administered” (16 USC 1133). Regardless of

what the purposes of the other systems might

be, it is clear that the NWPS provides a

number of different benefits to the American

people (Driver and others 1987). These

benefits are both “personal” in nature (such as

self-actualization, mental and physical wellbeing, and spiritual) and “social” (including

commodity uses, economic, and cultural).

The Wilderness Act created 54 “instant”

wilderness units in the NWPS, totalling more

than 8.9 million acres. All of this acreage was

administered by the Forest Service and much

was former wilderness, wild, or roadless areas

under the U-Regulations. The act also

empowered the Fish and Wildlife Service and

National Park Service to manage wilderness.

The fiit wilderness within a National Wildlife

Refuge (the Great Swamp in New Jersey) was

designated in 1968 and the first two units

within National Parks (the Craters of the Moon

in Idaho and the Petrified Forest in Arizona)

were designated in 1970.

A System Takes Shape

As illustrated in fig. 2, over the next 23

years wilderness units were slowly added to

the NWPS through numerous public laws. In

addition, a number of existing wilderness units

had their acreages adjusted upwards in

subsequent acts. Most notable among the postWilderness Act legislation are the “Eastern

Wilderness Act”, the Federal Land Policy

Management Act (FLPMA), and the Alaska

National Interest Lands Conservation Act

(ANILCA).

Nearly all of the units originally created

by the Wilderness Act were located in the

Western United States. In 1973, Public Law

93-622, often referred to as the Eastern

Wilderness Act (Hendee and others 1978,

Wilderness Society 1984), designated 16 new

units in the Eastern United States. More

importantly, the act set a precedent for

including wilderness that had been previously

modified by human activity.

The authority for the Bureau of Land

Management to manage wilderness came with

the passage of the FLPMA (PL 94-579) in

1976. It required the agency to review all of

its 400 million-plus acres for suitable

wilderness. The first Bureau of Land

Management wilderness (the Bear Trap Canyon

Unit of the Lee Metcalf Wilderness in

Montana) was designated 7 years later in 1983.

Second only to the original Wilderness

Act in number of units added to the NWPS

was the 1980 ANILCA (PL 96-487). Signed

by President Jimmy Carter in the final days of

his administration, the 56 million acres of new

wilderness created in the National Forests,

Parks, and Wildlife Refuges of Alaska more

than doubled the total size of the NWPS with

the stroke of a pen.

In 1964, the Wilderness Act gave the

Forest Service, National Park Service, and Fish

and Wildlife Service 10 years to complete

studies of their respective lands for potential

wilderness. However, as the result of

extensions to this deadline, notably for the

Forest Service’s controversial Roadless Area

Review and Evaluations (RARE I and II), the

largest number of units (nearly 200) were

added in several State-specific acts in 1984.

Since then, there has been little additional

legislation designating more wilderness.

ALOOKAROUND

Today, the NWPS consists of 464 units

administered by four Federal agencies, totaling

88,968,793 acres’ (U.S. Department of Interior

1987a) [see Appendix]. It is a more diverse

system now, often with unusual contrasts. For

example, the largest unit, the 8.7~million-acre

Wrangell-St. Elias Wilderness in the National

Park of the same name in Alaska, is inland.

Less than one-millionth of that size is the

smallest wilderness, the 6-acre Pelican Island

Wilderness managed by the Fish and Wildlife

Service off the Florida coast. Two wilderness

areas lie within 35 miles of New York City’s

Yankee Stadium, but none within 300 miles of

Des Moines, Iowa. And the Bandalier

Wilderness in New Mexico, once the home of

the ancient Anasazi people, is less than 10

miles from the birthplace of the hydrogen

bomb in Los Alamos.

6
Because wilderness units are supplemental

to the purposes for which agency systems were

established, there are some differences in the

way that they are administered (Allin 1985;

Edwards 1986). The contrasts among the

principal charges of the four agencies are

somewhat perpetuated in the management of

their respective wilderness areas, particularly in

terms of their recreational use. Because the

recreational use of national parks is a

paramount objective of the National Park

Service, there are fewer distinctions between

wilderness and non-wilderness lands.

Recreational use in the national wildlife refuge

system wilderness is permitted only when it

does not conflict with the principal charge for

that system, which is the propagation of

wildlife habitat. Forest Service and Bureau of

Land Management wilderness use reflects the

historical multiple-use perspectives of these

agencies.

Subsequent legislation has also generated

anomalies within the wilderness of any given

agency, especially in mining activities and

motorized access. Permitted uses in any

Alaskan wilderness may vary markedly from

those of the lower 48 States due to special

provisions of the ANILCA.

A review of some key statistics helps to

put the size and distribution of the NWPS into

better focus. Because almost two-thirds of all

NWPS acreage is located in Alaska, the NWPS

is often described as having two different

components. Any such review of the size and

distribution of the NWPS needs to distinguish

wilderness in Alaska and in the other 49

States.

Federal Agency Wilderness Acreage

In terms of total wilderness acreape

managed, the National Park Service leads

other agencies with more than 40 percent

the

of

the total NWPS acreage (U.S. Department of

Interior 1987a) [table 31. This is primarily due

to their vast Alaskan holdings. For the same

reason, the Fish and Wildlife Service is second

with about 24 percent of the NWPS acreage,

followed by the Forest Service with 20 percent.

The Bureau of Land Management, which

manages almost twice as much total land

acreage as the Forest Service, National Park

Service, and Fish and Wildlife Service

combined, manages less than 1 percent of the

NWPS’s total acreage.

As graphically illustrated in fig. 3, the

picture changes radically if Alaskan wilderness

acreage is excluded. In the lower 48 States

and Hawaii the Forest Service is the largest

manager of wilderness by a rather large

margin. With more than 26 million acres, it

has about five times as much wilderness as the

National Park Service, Fish and Wildlife

Service, and Bureau of Land Management

combined.

In terms of agency land in wilderness status,

the National Park Service again leads the other

agencies with 50 percent. The Forest Service

follows closely with 36 percent of its total

acreage in wilderness and the Fish and Wildlife

Service with about 2 percent. The Bureau of

Land Management again is last with less than

one-half percent. All together, the 88.8 million

acres in wilderness status account for about 14

percent of the total land administered by these

four Federal agencies.

Not surprisingly, the Forest Service manages

the largest number of wilderness units in the

NWPS units (more than three-fourths), even

including those located in Alaska [table 41.

On a regional basis, the Pacific Coast and

Rocky Mountains-Great Plains Regions

together account for about three-fourths of ah

individual NWPS units.

Regional Wilderness Acreage

Because wilderness lands are an “overlay” on

Federal agency lands, their location necessarily

mirrors the existing distribution of those lands.

Primarily because 88 percent of Alaska is

federally owned, the bulk of the NWPS

acreage--over 75 percent--is located in the

Pacific Coast Region (U.S. Department of

Interior 1987a) [table 51. Another 20 percent

is located in the Rocky Mountains-Great Plains

Region. The other two Regions (with 37

States) share the remaining 4 percent of the

NWPS’s total acreage. Figure 4 illustrates well

the differences in wilderness acreage among

the four Regions as well as how Alaska

influences the Pacific Coast Region acreage.

7
Table 3. -- A summary of Forest Service, National Park Service, Fish and Wildlife Service, and

Bureau of Land Management acreage and the National Wilderness Preservation System acreage as

of December 3 1, 1987 (by agency)

Agency

Forest Service

National Park Service

Fish and Wildlife Service

Bureau of Land Management

Total Percent

agency 1987 NWPS agency in

acreage acreage wilderness

161,038,854 32,411,297 20.1

68,898,258 36,756,382 53.3

81,007,068 19,330,335 23.9

334,029,039 470,779 0.1

Agency

percent

of NWPS

36.4

41.4

21.8

0.4

United States 644,973,219 88,968,793 13.8 100.0

Source: U.S. Department of Interior 1987a.

Figure 3. --

31, 1987

National Wilderness Preservation System acreage by Federal agency as of December

Million Acres

FS NPS FWS

FEDERAL AGENCY

ELM

m Lower 48 B Hawaii m Alaska

8
Table 4. -- A summary of National Wilderness Preservation System units as of December 31,

1987 (by agency and RPA Region)

RPA Region’

Pacific Coast

Rocky Mountains-Great Plains

North

south

National Fish & Bureau All

Forest Park Wildlife of Land Federal

Service Service Service Management Agencies

119 26 172

125 :72 8 :!: 162

2

74: 6 :1 ! z

United States 360 37 65 27

Source: U.S. Department of Interior 1987a.

l See Appendix for listing of States within each RPA Region.

2 Total reflects sever@ units located in more than one State and/or agency.

489’

Table 5. -- A summary of total regional acreage and National Wilderness Preservation System

acreage as of December 3 1, 1987 (by RPA Region)

RPA Region’

Pacific Coast

Rocky Mountains-Great Plains

North

south

Total

regional

acreage’

589,692,OOO

749,449,OOO

446,176,OOO

37 1,990,OOO

United States (excluding AK) 1,937,726,000

United States (including AK) 2,315,969,000

Percent

1987 NWPS Region in

acreage’ wilderness

Region

percent

of NWPS

67,176,085 11.4 75.7

17,807,232 ;; 19.9

1,456,855

2528,621 0:7 2::

32,484,117 36.4

88,968,793 ::;I 100.0

1 See Appendix for listing of States within each RPA Region.

2 Source: U.S. Department of Commerce 1987.

3 Source: U.S. Department of Interior 1987a.
In terms of the proportion of total regional

acreage in wilderness status, the Pacific Coast

again leads with more than 11 percent. A

distant second is the Rocky Mountains-Great

Plains Region with 2 112 percent. In the North

and South Regions, less than 1 percent of all

regional acreage is in wilderness status. Taken

together, NWPS acreage represent less than 4

percent of the total land area of the United

States. Six States, including Connecticut,

Delaware, Iowa, Kansas, Maryland, and Rhode

Island, have no designated wilderness.

Wilderness Unit Size

One of every two wilderness units in the

NWPS is between5,OOO and 50,000 acres

(U.S. Department of Interior 1987a). About 4

percent of the NWPS is in units larger than 1

million acres, led by the Pacific Coast Region

with 14 one-million-plus wilderness units (all

in Alaska).

While not an absolute requirement, the

Wilderness Act recommends that a wilderness

unit be “at least 5,000 acres, or of a size

sufficient as to make practicable its

preservation and use in an unimpaired

condition” (16 USC 113 1). Nearly one of

every eight NWPS units is less than the 5,000

recommended acres, with most belonging to

the Fish and Wildlife Service and Bureau of

Land Management and occurring in the North

and South Regions.

For purposes of this paper only the

wilderness units have been arbitrarily divided

into seven different size classes: 0 to 4,999

acres (class 1); 5,000 to 49,999 acres (class 2);

50,000 to 99,999 acres (class 3); 100,000 to

499,000 acres (class 4); 500,000 to 999,000

acres (class 5); l,OOO,OOO to 4,999,OOO acres

(class 6); and greater than 5,000,OOO acres

(class 7). The relative distribution of these

size classes among the Regions is shown in

table 6.

Land-Surface Form and Ecoregion Diversity

As shown in table 7, hill and mountain landsurface forms (Hammond 1970; U.S.

Department of Interior 1982a) account for

almost three-fourths of the NWPS primarily

10

due to the influence of the Pacific Coast and

Rocky Mountains-Great Plains Regions. This

type of land-surface form includes lands with

less than 20 percent of the area gently sloping,

with local relief ranging from 300 to 5,000

feet. The next most common form is open hill

and mountain (19 percent), characterized by 20

to 50 percent of area gently sloping, with local

relief ranging from 100 to 5,000 feet. Plains

and tablelands, characterized by 50 percent or

more of the area gently sloping, total less than

5 percent of the NWPS.

Because of the Alaskan wilderness, tundra

and subarctic ecoregions (Bailey 1980; U.S.

Department of Interior 1982a) dominate the

acreage of the NWPS with more than 44

percent of the total [table 81. Marine

ecoregions account for some 23 percent and

steppe ecoregions another 14 percent.

Especially underrepresented in the NWPS are

the prairie (0.02 percent), rainforest (0.16

percent), and subtropical (0.8 percent)

ecoregions.

Wilderness versus Urban Acreage

Nationwide, there is a little less than twice as

much wilderness as there is urban built-up land

(U.S. Department of Interior 1987a; U.S.

Department of Commerce 1987) [table 91.

However, if Alaska is excluded, urban built-up

acreage exceeds wilderness acreage by about 3

to 2.

Alaska surely possesses the greatest ratio of

wilderness acreage to urban built-up land

acreage (although accurate data on Alaska’s

urban acreage is unavailable). Consequently,

the Pacific Coast Region has the highest

wilderness to urban built-up acreage ratio:

nearly 14 to 1. The Rocky Mountains-Great

Plains Region follows with about 4 acres of

wilderness for each urban built-up acre. The

North and South Regions have the lowest

ratios--as little as 0.07 acre of wilderness per

urban built-up acre.

Per Capita Wilderness Acreage

Nationwide, including Alaska, there is about

0.4 acre of wilderness for every American

citizen (U.S. Department of Interior 1987a;
Figure 4. -- National Wilderness Preservation System Acreage by RPA Region as of December 31,

1987

70

60

50

40

30

20

10

0

Million Acres

PACIFIC ROCKY MTS-GRT PLAINS NORTH SOUTH

RPA REGION

m Lower 48 & Hawaii m Alaska

Table 6. -- Percent of National Wilderness Preservation System units as of December 31, 1987 by

size class (by RPA Region’)

Pacific Rocky Mtns- AllRPA

Size Class (acres) coast Great Plains North South Region s

1 (0 - 4,999) 12.2 3.8 32.1 35.4 16.4

2 (5,ooo - 49,999) 43.0 57.5 64.3 61.6 54.0

3 (50,ooo - 99,999)

27.;

15.0 0.0 1.0

4 (100,ooo - 499,999)

512

19.4 1.8 1.0 1:::

56 (500,ooo (l,ooO,OOO- 999,999) - 4,999,999) :*f 2.51.9 1.8 0.0

7 (5,000,OOO and above)

1oo:o 1OE:X

kk: 1.0 ;:;

TOTAL, 1oo:o 1Oz 1oE

Source: U.S. Department of Interior 1987a.

1 See Appendix for listing of States within each RPA Region.

11
Table 7. -

by dominant

Percent of National Wilderness Preservation System acreage as of December 31, 1987

land-surface form (by RPA Region’)

Ezc

ARRPA

Land-surface Form2 North South Regions

Plains 2.50 0 4 7

$$;~;o-$?&~tams %Z

ll:o 9”:: 1::;

Tablelands 0:04 7E. ‘Z 7E

Plains with hills & mountains 0.80 5%) * -

TOTAL 100.00 10% 1OO:o 100”:; 10%

’ See Appendix for listing of States within each RPA Region.

’ Source: U.S. Department of Interior 1982a.

Table 8. -

by

Percent of National Wilderness Preservation System acreage as of December 31, 1987

dominant ecoregion (by RPA Region’)

AURPA

Ecoregion* EZZc EZPYZE North South Regions

Tundra Sbarctic 35.4

2E

E

31:3

% ::: :E. Warm continental .

Hot continental

Subtropical

:; iE! %. 1::

31:3 0:o

::: 28:0

::7’

E+?& 2:;

0.03 E 0:02

Mediterranean Steppe ;::

A::

6;:; :::

0”::

::: 1:::

Desert

Fso$savanna E

2:;

%

5::; :::

TOTAL 1OO:o lO!E 1OO:o loo”:: 1OEE

’ See Appendix for listing of States within each RPA Region.

* Source: U.S. Department of Interior 1982a.

Table 9. - A comparison of urban built-up acrea e

acreage as of December 3 1, 1987 (by RPA regionf

and National Wilderness Preservation System

RPA Region’

1987 NWPS Total urban

acreage* acreage’

Wilderness acres

per urban acre

Pacific Coast

goctib Mountains-Great Plains

south

United States I excluding AR)

United States including AR)

67,176,085 4,907,OOO

l;,i$J;; 4,222,OOO

% 4

2:528:621 $;O$‘OO(& 0:07

32,484,117 46:416:000 :::

88,968,793 ___ -_-

1 See Appendix for listing of states within each RPA region.

* Source: US Department of Commerce 1987.

’ Source: US De artment of Interior 1987a.

’ Does not incluse Alaska (data unavailable).

12
U.S. Department of Commerce 1987) [table

lo]. Excluding Alaska, that figure drops to

less than one-sixth of an acre per person.

Alaska residents enjoy the highest per capita

acreage of wilderness, more than 100 acres for

each person (much of that total, however, is

relatively inaccessible). Consequently, as a

Region, the Pacific Coast offers the highest per

capita acreage of wilderness, about 2 acres for

each resident. The next highest per capita

wilderness acreage is found in the Rocky

Mountains-Great Plains Region, with 1 acre per

person. Again, residents of the North and

South Regions have the least wilderness,

although it is generally much more accessible.

In these two Regions there is only about 0.01

acre of wilderness, or less, for every resident.

Given the expected national population

growth rate (U.S. Department of Commerce

1987), 6 million acres of additional wilderness

would be required to maintain the current

national ratio through the year 2000.

A LOOK AHEAD

What is to determine the ultimate nature

and composition of the NWPS--its size,

geographic distribution, natural resources and

environments, and management direction?

Will--and should--the same factors that shaped

it to date continue to control its future?

The pattern for the size and diversity of

the NWPS has already been effectively

outlined, albeit indirectly, in the language of

the Wilderness Act itself. For the act states

that the NWPS shah “be composed only of

federally owned lands designated by Congress”

(16 USC 1131). There are several important

consequences of this language. First, it

obviously eliminates the possibility of nonFederal lands from the NWPS. Therefore,

State and private wild lands are excluded from

consideration no matter how well they meet all

other qualifications or characteristics. Second,

it further limits the distribution of wilderness to

only &j_r Federal agencies. Regardless of their

merit, the lands of other Federal agencies, such

as those of the Bureau of Indian Affairs and

various Department of Defense agencies, are

excluded from wilderness review. Third, by

virtue of the fact that wilderness is an

“overlay” on the National Forest, Park, and

Wildlife Refuge systems and public domain

lands, it can only repeat the same pattern of

geographic distribution exhibited by the parent

systems. This means that the present pattern

of unequal wilderness distribution in Alaska

and the two Western Regions will continue for

most new wilderness acreage. If significant

changes are to occur in this pattern, some of

the limitations inherent in the Wilderness Act

may need to be re-evaluated.

Wilderness Recommendations and Study

Acreages

Despite these apparent limitations,

considerable additional acreage has already

been recommended to Congress for inclusion

in the NWPS and even more is under study for

its suitability as wilderness. Although this new

acreage could effectively double the size of the

NWPS, there are no guarantees how much will

eventually be added. Nor would the new

acreage necessarily insure regional equality or

representative diversity. To the contrary, it

may perpetuate most of the existing patterns.

The original lo-year inventory period

specified in the Wilderness Act has long

passed for the Forest Service, National Park

Service, and Fish and Wildlife Service. The

Bureau of Land Management has another 4

years to complete its inventory of suitable

wilderness areas and make its

recommendations. As of 1987, some 14.6

million acres of land have already been

recommended by the agencies for wilderness

designation. More than half of this total (8.7

million acres) would come from the National

Park System (U.S. Department of Agriculture

1986) [table 111. The remainder is divided

among the Forest Service, with 2.4 millions

acres (U.S. House of Representatives 1984),

and the Fish and Wildlife Service, with 3.4

million acres (U.S. Department of the Interior

1987b). None of the recommended acreage

would come from the Bureau of Land

Management’s public domain lands.

The recommended wilderness acreage is

concentrated in the Rocky Mountains-Great

Plains Region. The 9.8 million acres there

represent about two-thirds of the national total

of recommended acreage [table 121. (The four

Great Plains States of North Dakota, South

13
Table 10. -- Per capita National Wilderness Preservation System acreage and required acreage for

maintenance of existing per capita rate in year 2000 (by RPA Region)

1987 Estimated

1985 population

estimated

RPA Region’

1987 NWPS giita

population’ acreage

3

growth--

acreage 2ooo2

Pacific Coast 35036,000 67,176,085 1.9 20.1%

Rocky Mountains-Great Plainsl8,238,000 17,807,232

North 114,908,OOO 1,456,855 & -:*t:

south 70,557,OOO 2,528,621 0:04 29:2%

United States (excluding AKj138,219,000 32,484,117 0.1 ---

United States (including AK~38,740,000 88,968,793 0.4 ---

’ See Appendix for listing of States within each Region.

’ Source: U.S. Department of Commerce 1987.

3 Source: U.S. Department of Interior 1987a.

Additional

acreage

required to

maintain

1987 ratio

5707,508

24.57:

303,435

2,476,984

6,035,519

Table 11. -- A summary of acreage recommended to Congress and in study for inclusion in the

National Wilderness Preservation System (by agency)

1987 NWPS

Agency acreage’

Forest Service 32,411,297

National Park Service 36,756,382

Fish and Wildlife Service 19,330,355

Bureau of Land Management 470,77g3

United States (excluding AK) 32,484,117

Unites States (including AK) 88,968,793

’ Source: U.S. Department of Interior 1987a.

2 Source: U.S. House of Representatives 1984.

3 Source: U.S. Department of the Interior 1987b.

Recommended Under study

wilderness wilderness

acreage acreage

2,413,370 4,054,913

8,776,405 31,618,115

3,436,2242 57,748,8682

0 23,386,7143

14,626,754 31,346,491

14,626,754 116,808,610

Table 12. -- A summary of acreage recommended to Congress and in study for inclusion in the

National Wilderness Preservation System (by RPA agency)

Recommended Studied

RPA Region’ 1987 NWPS wilderness wilderness

acreage’ acreage

3

acreage3

Pacific Coast 67,176,085 3,698,089 95,804,989

Rocky Mountains-Great Plains 17,807,232 9,846,730 19,659,852

North 1,456,855 75,667 295,633

south 2,528,621 1,006,268 1,048,136

United States (excluding AK) 32.484.117 14,626,754 3 1,346,491

United States (including AK) 88,968,793 14,626,754 116,808,610

’ See Appendix for listing of states within each RPA region.

2 Source: US Department of Interior 1987a.

3 Source: US Department of Interior 1987b, US House of Representatives 1984.

14
Dakota, Nebraska, and Kansas share less than

50,000 of those acres, however.) Another 3.7

million is located in the Pacific Coast Region,

none of which is located in Alaska.

Particularly deficient (in terms of recommended

wilderness) is the North Region.

In addition to the recommended acreage,

another 116.8 mihion .acres of land within the

respective systems of the four agencies are

being, or have been, studied by the agencies

for possible recommendation to Congress.

Nearly one-half of this, about 57.7 million

acres, belongs to the Fish and Wildlife Service.

Within the National Park System there are 31.6

million acres of wilderness under study. The

Bureau of Land Management is studying 23.3

million acres and the Forest Service another 4

million acres.

Primarily due to Alaska, the Pacific Coast

leads all Regions in terms of wilderness under

study. Almost three-fourths of all remaining

wilderness under study, about 95.8 million

acres, is located there. The Rocky MountainsGreat Plains Region is second with about 19.6

million acres. A little more than 1 million

acres is being studied in both the North and

South Regions. Again under-represented are

the Great Plains and Northeast States, where

no further potential wilderness is being studied

for suitability.

Some Strategic Considerations

The prognosis for the inclusion of the

recommended and/or study areas in the NWPS

in not entirely clear. It may be politically

unrealistic to expect that all recommended

and/or study areas will eventually enter the

NWPS (Crandell 1987). This may be

primarily due to the potential for competing

interests in the energy resources, timber, water,

strategic minerals, and other commercially or

strategically important national resources within

these areas. It has been a long standing and

common perception that such resources are

“locked up” once they enter the NWPS (Irland

1979).

When the first wilderness units entered the

System directly through the Wilderness Act in

1964, they only needed to meet the basic

requirements stipulated in the act, such as

Federal ownership, roadless character, and size

(see 16 USC 1131). For the next half decade,

most National Park Service and Fish and

Wildlife Service wilderness additions to the

NWPS were also added largely if they met the

basic criteria in the act. However, in 1971 the

Forest Service undertook the RARE I

procedure. RARE 1 a~ .zd additional

objectives not necessarily spelled out in the

Wilderness Act to the selection process,

including optimization of resource and

wilderness value trade-offs, preservation of

representative ecosystems, and proximity to

densely populated areas. Despite the

innovations of RARE I, it also had some

methodological shortcomings and was roundly

criticized (Allin 1982). A second wilderness

inventory and evaluation process, dubbed

RARE II, was begun in 1977 and was to

experience its own criticisms. Regardless of

the problems of RARE I and II, they laid the

groundwork for consideration of objectives

beyond the general goal and criteria specified

in the Wilderness Act.

An integrated, interagency plan for the

future development of the NWPS may soon be

needed. Based on agreed-upon objectives for

the NWPS, such a plan might prioritize all

potential wilderness--irrespective of Federal

agency ownership--on strategic considerations

such as the following: (1) integrity and fragility

of wilderness character; (2) threats to the

wilderness character; (3) size and completeness

of ecosystems; (4) representativeness of

different natural ecosystems and culturaI

heritage; (5) productivity in terms of renewable

resources such as water and wildlife; (6)

proximity to population and transportation;

and/or (7) scientific and educational

opportunities and needs. Such a plan might

address the “rehabilitation” of existing Federal

lands that have been impacted by allowing

them slowly to regain wilderness qualities.

Finally, the plan might consider the outright

fee purchase (or even purchase of use

easements) of private lands with wilderness

qualities and significant opportunities to fill

“holes” in the strategic plan.

As mentioned earlier, the NWPS doesn’t

appear to have a wide-open range of options to

meet different strategic considerations. The

Great Plains ecosystems, for example, will

never be proportionally represented because

15
there is little Federal acreage in those States to

begin with. Likewise, the Northeastern urban

centers will never have a large amount of

nearby wilderness acreage. If the available

land base is to provide more opportunities--and

meet rising expectations for non-recreational

wilderness uses--then some new options should

be explored, even including the possible

amendment of the Wilderness Act itself. Ideas

that have been suggested in the past include

(1) stronger language regarding nonrecreational value and uses of wilderness; (2)

the creation of a separate wilderness

administration agency; or (3) incorporating

State or privately owned lands into the NWPS.

Many are loathe to consider amending the

Wilderness Act because it could also open the

door to changes that might adversely affect the

existing supply and management of wilderness.

But, much like other environmental legislation

in the past, there may be good reason to

review the goals and performance of the

Wilderness Act on its 25th anniversary in light

of nearly a quarter of a century’s experience

and changing expectations.

The Next Challenges

The preservation of wilderness involves

more than just its initial protection through

congressional designation however. Equally

important is the subsequent agency

management after designation. The next

challenge ahead then will be insuring that the

wilderness already in the NWPS is

administered “in such a manner as will leave

them unimpaired for future use and enjoyment

as wilderness” (16 USC 1131). Making basic

wilderness management tenets and objectives

operational, however, is yet to evolve fully and

is often the subject of intense debate. As the

process of fiig out the NWPS eventually

slows, more attention and energy must be

focused on the management practices of the

Federal agencies (Bolle 1985).

Part of this challenge will be to expand

and refine management practices for the many

non-recreation& uses of wilderness. A quick

review of the wilderness-specific sections

within the administrative manuals of the four

agencies shows that more attention has

traditionally been focused on recreation rather

than the other non-recreational uses, with the

possible exception of commercial uses (U.S.

Department of Agriculture 1973; U.S.

Department of Interior 1978, 1981, 1982b). If

the non-recreational values of wilderness are to

be more fully appreciated and protected,

additional management attention must be paid

to them--including better training for managers,

increased budget, and more coherent

management policies.

Still another challenge will be to develop

the sensitivity and methods to assign non_

commodity, if not non-economic, values to

wilderness planning and administrative

considerations--and the courage to equate those

values with the traditional economic values that

are more easily, though not necessarily any

more correctly, measured (Rolston 1986).

The last domestic challenge for the future

of the NWPS will be to stretch further our

recognition of still human-oriented

“anthropocentric” (Hendee and others 1978)

non-recreational wilderness values to include

the nonhuman “inherent/intrinsic” values of

wilderness (Driver and others 1987). Such

latter values assert that the wilderness has a

right to exist quite apart from any human

benefits. As noted by Driver and others

(1987), “wilderness preservation, as a form of

restraint, helps temper the tendency of

aggressive humankind to conquer and subdue

the entire Earth.”

A Worldly Epilogue

If the NWPS protects in perpetuity a piece

of this Nation’s natural heritage it will be a

tremendous achievement indeed. But, if it

serves, as with our National parks earlier, to

inspire other nations likewise to preserve

unique wildlands in a similar if not identical

way, then it may become a legacy for the

world as well. Perhaps the final challenge in

the long evolution of wilderness preservation in

this nation--as well as the world--is the

wholesale eradication of war, poverty, and

ignorance among humankind. For these are

the real threats to a planetary wilderness

preservation system.

16
REFERENCES

Allin, Craig W. 1985. “Hidden agendas in

wilderness management.” In Parks and

Recreation. Volume 20, Number 5 (May).

Allin, Craig W. 1982. The Politics of

Wilderness Preservation. Greenwood

Press: Westport, CN.

Bailey, Robert G. 1980. Bcoregions of the

United States. USDA Porest Service

Miscellaneous Publication No. 1391.

Belle, Arnold W. 1985. “Public groups turn to

management issues.” In Frome, Michael

C., ed. Issues in Wilderness Management.

Westview Press:-Boulder, CO.

Crandell, Harry. 1987. “Congressional

perspectives on the origin of the

Wilderness Act and its meaning today.”

In Proceedings-National Wilderness

Research Conference: Issues, State-ofKnowledge, Future Directions. US

Department of Agriculture. USDA Forest

Service Technical Report INT 220.

Driver, B. L., Roderick Nash, and Glenn Haas.

1987. “Wilderness benefits: a state-ofknowledge review.” In ProceedingsNational Wilderness Research Conference:

Issues, State-of Knowledge, Future

Directions. US Department of Agriculture.

USDA Forest Service General Technical

Report INT 220.

Edwards, Gregory W. 1986. “Keeping

wilderness areas wild.” In Virginia Journal

of Natural Resources Law. Volume 6,

Number 1 (Fall).

Foresta, Ronald A. 1984. America’s National

Parks and Their Keepers. Resources For

The Future: Washington, DC.

Hammond, Edwin H. 1970. “Classes of landsurface form.” US National Atlas Sheet

Nos. 1 and 2.

Hendee, John C., George H. Stankey, and

Robert C. Lucas. 1978. Wilderness

Management Handbook. USDA Forest

Service Miscellaneous Publication No.

1365.

Irland, Lloyd C. 1979. Wilderness Economics

and Policy. DC Heath: Lexington, MA.

Nash, Roderick. 1982. Wilderness and the

American Mind. 3rd ed. Yale University

Press: New Haven, CN.

Outdoor Recreation Resources Review

Commission. 1962. Wilderness and

Recreation - A Report on Resources,

Values, and Problems. ORRRC Study

Report 3. The Wildland Research Center:

Washington, DC.

Reed, Nathaniel P. and Dennis Drabelle. 1984.

The United States Fish and Wildlife

Service. Westview Press: Boulder, CO.

Robinson, Glen 0. 1975. The Forest Service.

Resources For The Future: Washington,

DC.

Rolston, Holmes, III. 1986. Philosophy Gone

Wild. Prometheus Books: Buffalo, NY.

Sierra Club. 1985. National Wilderness

Preservation System.

University of Montana. 1985. National

Wilderness Preservation System.

Wilderness Institute: Missoula, MT.

U.S. Code Annotated. 1985. Title 16-

Conservation. Sections 761-1150. West

Publishing: St. Paul, MN.

US. Department of Agriculture. 1986. Twentysecond Annual Wilderness Report on the

status of the National Wilderness

Preservation System for the calendar year

1985. USDA Forest Service.

U.S. Department of Agriculture. 1973. Forest

Service Manual. Chapter 2320:

Wilderness, primitive areas, and

wilderness study areas, USDA Forest

Service. Washington, DC.

U.S. Department of Commerce. 1987.

Statistical Abstract of the United States.

Bureau of the Census.

17
U.S. Department of the Interior. 1987a.

National Wilderness Preservation System.

U.S. Geological Survey.

U.S. Department of the Interior. 1987b.

Wilderness Opportunity Areas. U.S. Fish

and Wildlife Service.

U.S. Department of the Interior. 1982a.

Rcoregions and Land-Surface Forms of

the United States. US. Fish and Wildlife

Service.

U.S. Department of the Interior. 1982b.

National Wildlife Refuge Manual. Part 6,

Section 8: Wilderness area management.

US. Fish and Wildlife Service.

Washington,-DC.

US. Department of the’htterior. 1981.

Wilderness Management Policy. Bureau of

Land Management. Washington, DC.

U.S. Department of the Interior. 1978. National

Park Service Management Policies.

Chapter 6: Wilderness preservation and

management. U.S. National Park Service.

Washington, DC.

US. House of Representatives. 1984. House

Subcommittee on Public Lands and

National Parks. Forest Service and BLM

Wilderness Statistics as of December 1,

1984.

Wilderness Society. 1987. National Wilderness

Preservation System (Summary Data).

Washington, DC.

Wilderness Society. 1984. The Wilderness Act

Handbook. Washington, DC.

18
APPENDIX: Summary of National Wilderness Preservation System acreage by Federal agency

and RPA Region as of December 3 1, 1987.

RPA Region Forest

State Service

National Fish & Bureau All

Park Wildlife of Land Federal

Service Service Management Agencies

Pacific Coast:

Alaska

California

Hawaii

Oregon

Washington

(SUBTOTAL)

5453,366 32,355,OOO 18,676,310

3,920,050 1,990,034

142,370

2,077,08!:

2,521,495 :

13,971,998 34,487,404

141

0

495

838

18,677,784

Rocky Mountains-Great Plains:

Arizona 1,315,657

Colorado __ 2.585.802

Idaho 3,957,438

Montana 3,371,513

Nebraska 8,100

Nevada 64,677

New Mexico 1,388,735

North Dakota

South Dakota 9,s;

Utah 779,638

Wyoming 3,084,933

(SUBTOTAL) 16,566,317

North:

Illinois

Indiana

Maine

Massachusetts

Michigan

Minnesota

Missouri

New Hampshire

New Jersey

New York

Ohio

Pennsylvania

Vermont

West Virginia

Wisconsin

(SUBTOTAL)

12,93!

0

91,53:

798,309

63,130

102.932

9,70!

59.448

78;131

43,959

1,260,084

443,700

52,730

43,243

:

56,39;

29,920

64,250

:

690,235

:

:

131*88Z

0

:

1,363

0

:

:

133,243

:

64,53:

4,635

39,89!

9,732

:

118,8$

4,050

7,39:

2,420

25,309

6,180

7,730

10,34!

7;

! ’

0

65,5;:

0

15,216

0

16,543

7,140

38,899

272,520

72:

6,000

!

130,040

0

22,6$

43 1,88i

56,484,676

5,925,441

142.370

2,094;125

2,529,473

67,176,085

2,03 1,877

2.638,532

4,001,401

3442,048

12,735

64,677

1,615,065

39,652

74,074

802,238

3,084,9 33

17,807,232

4,050

12,935

7.392

21420

248,724

804,489

70,860

102,932

10,341

11363

9,7;;

59,448

78,131

43,988

1445,500

19
APPENDIX (cont’d): Summary of National W ilderness Prese rvation System acre age by Fede ral

agency and RPA Region as of De ce m b e r 31, 19 87.

RPA Region Forest

State Se rvice

National Fish 8z

Park W ildlife

Se rvice Se rvice

Bure au All

of Land Fede ral

M anagemen t Age ncies

south:

Alabam a

Ark ansas

Florida

Ge orgia

Ken tuck y

Louisiana

M ississippi

North Carolina

Ok lah om a

South Carolina --

Tennessee

Te xas

Virginia

(SUBTOTAL)

19 ,426

1151805

72.582

89;%8

18,056

8,700

5,500

100.218

16,52:

66,714

35,413

64,687

612,89 8

0

10,529

1,29 6,500

8.840

i

3,202

:

:

46,850

79 ,579

l& 5,500

2,1:

51,271

362,107

8,3460

8.78:

8,570

29 ,000

0

:

470,223

19 ,426

128,478

1,420,353

460,215

18,056

17,046

8,702

109 ,003

8,570

45,529

66,714

82,263

144,266

2,528,621

united states:

Total(e xcluding AK) 26,9 57,9 31 4401,382 656,581 470,779 32,484,117

Total(including AK) 32,411,29 7 36,756,382 19 ,330,335 470,779 88,9 68,79 3

Source: U.S. De partm ent of Inte rior 19 87a.

ENDNOTES

1. The four R egions used in th is paper are the sam e as th ose to be used in the Forest Se rvice ’s 19 89 R PA

Assessm ent. Th ese Regions do not correspond to the standard Forest Se rvice Regions. Fig. 1 above depicts

the com position of these R egionflAlask a and H aw aii are not sh ow n but are part of the Pacific Coast). A list

of States w ith in each Re gion m ay be found in the Appendix.

2. Th is total is according to the U.S. D e partm ent of Inte rior (19 87a). It sh ould be noted th at auth oritative

sources oflen d ige r on seve ral im portant statistical ch aracte ristics of the NW PS, including the num b er of

units, th eir acreage, and w h o m anages th e m (see, for exam ple, U.S. D e partm ent of Agriculture 19 86, U.S.

Code Annotated 19 8.5, Unive rsity o M ontana 19 85, Sie rra Club 19 85, and W ild erness Society 19 87).

D iscrepancies result from s eve ral Bactors, such as units in one or m ore States or agencies, ch anges in land

acquisition, boundary adjustm ents, refinem ent in m easurem ents, and com pletion of oficial m apping, as w ell

as w h e th e r gross (including w ate r and private inh olding) or net acreage is reporte d. Actually, failure of

agre em ent on the acreage of units is probably insignificant in assessing the true size of the NW PS since

nearly tw o doz en Alask an w ild erness units h ave only been reported to the nearest 100,000 acres!

20
TH REATS TO TH E

NATIONAL W ILDERNESS

PRESERVATION SYSTEM

John Peine, John Burde, and William Hammitt*

ABSTRACT

Influences by m an on natural ecosystem s

are escalating at an alarm ing rate, w ith

profound global effects on natural resources.

Resources of th e National W ild e rness System

are not im m une to th ose th reats. A review of

four surveys of w ild e rness unit m anage rs

conducted ove r th e last s even years reveals th e

w ide variety of inte rnal and exte rnal th reats to

w ild e rness, th e lack of und e rstand ing of th e

ram ification of th ose th reats on th e resource

base or w ild e rness expe rience, and th e trend

tow ard an increase in th e num ber and intensity

of th reats over tim e. Th e perception th at

w ilderness is forever m ay be a pipe dream .

M anagers are a long w ay from understan ding

th e. ram ifications of anth ropogenic influences

on th e natural ecosystem process w h ich

constitute th e essence of w ilderness values th ey

are ch arged to protect.

INTRODUCTION

The concept of threats is difficult to

define. As J. S. Burgess and E. Woolmington

(1981) note, the te rm “threat” is highly

anthropocentric: it is a social metaphor applied

to biological systems. It suggests human

concern that certain valued characteristics of

nature are in danger of degradation or

destruction. Ecologically, threats can be

considered suspected stresses, and “thus threat

can be said to roughly equal perceived (and

sometimes imagined) stress, often with

additional connotations relating to the interests

of the perceive?’ (Burgess and Woolmington

1981).

For the purpose of this discussion, the

term “threat” will be limited to those activities

by man which degrade valued characteristics of

nature. Unfortunately, “threat” is a loaded

term and means different things to different

people but is generally accepted to convey the

topic at hand.

From Rachel Carson in “Silent Spring” to

the Apollo mission astronauts who were the

first to see the earth as a finite planet, man has

gradually become aware of the ramifications of

his actions on the planet Earth.

Our understanding of the health of the

planet lags far behind our understanding of the

health of the human body. Our present

awareness of global health may be equivalent,

in the evolution of medical science, to a period

somewhere between the bubonic plague and

the discovery of the polio vaccine, It is

definitely at some point prior to the modem

era of extensive cancer research and treatment

technology.

Global health encompasses all terrestrial

and aquatic ecosystems. Threats to global

health most assuredly affect our wilderness

system. Man’s global population escalates at

an ever-increasing rate, and his adverse impact

on the natural environment escalates

exponentially. We are just beginning to take

the carbon cycling issue and resultant global

warming phenomenon seriously. Ozone

depletion in the stratosphere and artificial

formation in the atmosphere have recently

come to our attention. Massive global

deforestation is under way. Intercontinental

species introduction threatens native species

populations on every continent. As a result of

all this, scientists are predicting rises in sea

* Ch ief, Science Division, Great Sm ok y Mountains National Park , Gatlinburg, TN: Associate Professor,

D e partm ent of Fore stry, South e rn Illinois University, Carbondale, IL; and Professor, D e partm ent of

Fore stry,W ildlife, & Fish e ries, Unive rsity of Tennessee, Knoxville, TN.

21
level anywhere from 6 inches to 3 feet; major

shifts in climate, creating deserts in regions

with normally plentiful rainfall; and possible

loss of species critical to many other forms of

life. For example, Asian bee mites have

invaded Florida and threaten the future

existence of honey bees in North America.

This is not too important unless you want to

eat.

Assessment of anthropogenic threats

related to natural ecosystems has been focused

primarily on parks as opposed to wilderness

areas. Most studies of threats to parks have

been limited to specific parks or discussion of

geographically homogeneous parks. Much of

the research has been qualitative. A few

systematic studies of threats to parks have been

conducted, mostly *%I the United States. None

of them incorporate any of the issues of global

health previously mentioned in a broad context,

such as sea level size or climatic change.

Long-term ecological research sites have

varying histories in the type and length of

studies concerning ecosystem level processes

and species community dynamics. These

programs are laying groundwork for detecting

ecosystem response to environmental change

and anthropogenic influences. These programs

tend to be site-specific, and their relevance to

the landscape scale is not well understood.

Syntheses of research conducted at these sites

are not usually couched in terms of threats as

the concept is presented here.

The assessment of threats to wilderness in

this discussion will be based on a synthesis of

four studies. First, the National Park Service

1980 Report to Congress on the State of the

Parks will be utilized (NPS 1980). This

represents the only attempt made to assess

internal and external threats to 320 park units

of the National Park System The term

“threats” as used in the NPS report refers to

those pollutants, visitor activities, exotic

. species, industrial development projects, and so

on, which have the potential to cause

significant damage to park resources or

seriously to degrade important park values or

park experiences. The report had significant

impact in Congress, but the term “threat” has

since been dropped by NPS in order to avoid

the perception of sensationalizing the issues.

In 1983 Randel Washburne and David

Cole published results of a survey of

wilderness managers (Washbume and Cole

1983). The section of that report directed

toward impacts from recreational use on

wilderness values was utilized. This study was

limited to internal influences on wilderness.

The data were collected in 1980.

The third study utilized is an assessment

of the state of the world’s parks conducted by

Gary Machlis and David Tichnell (Machlis and

Tichnell 1985). Questionnaires were analyzed

from 100 parks in 49 countries.

The fourth data set was collected for this

paper, consisting of a telephone survey of

managers of 50 designated U.S. wilderness

areas. Data were collected by Mark Young, a

graduate student of Dr. William Hammitt of

the University of Tennessee, and Denise Ervin,

a graduate student of Dr. John Burde of the

Southern Illinois University. Data for this

study consisted of replication of a section of

Washbume and Cole’s questionnaire in order to

establish trends in recreation impacts and a

section devoted to external influences on

wilderness values in which managers indicated

on a scale the level of significance of the

threat.

All four of these studies utilized

qualitative, judgmental variables to assess

threats. All essentially were attempting to

establish a consensus of management opinion

concerning a broad range of issues. A case

study of wilderness management for the Great

Smoky Mountains National Park (GSMNP) is

also included in order to provide specific

examples of issues raised by the general

surveys.

OVERVIEW OF TH REATS

All four studies conclude that a wide

variety of threats exists concerning parks and

wilderness areas. Seventy-three different kinds

of threats were identified in the 1980 NPS

assessment. A total of 1,611 threats were

identified by park managers in the global park

assessment. Only 3 out of 100 global park

managers reported no threats to their parks.

These instances were due to extreme isolation

from areas of human activity. Washbume and

22
Cole found wilderness unit managers shared

common problems of resource degradation and

loss of solitude due to recreational use. None

of the 50 wilderness unit managers contacted

in the 1987 survey indicated an absence of

threats in their areas. At GSMNP; 41 threats

were listed.

Documentation as to the degree and nature

of impact from the threats is considered

inadequate. In the 1980 NPS assessment of

parks, 75 percent of all 3879 reported threats

identified by the 310 respondents to the

questionnaire were in need of research to

document adequately. As depicted in figure 1

from the 1980 NPS Report to Congress, none

of the categories of threats beyond esthetic

degradation had more than 70 percent of their

threats adequately documented. Responses to

the global park assessment portrayed in table 1

indicate that, on an average, over 40 percent of

the threats are not documented.

Despite 12 years of an established inhouse research program at GSMNP, most of

the recognized threats are not well understood.

For instance, the makeup of air pollutants and

their adverse effects on plants, animals, and

soils is just beginning to be understood. Of

approximately 300 exotic plant species

occurring in the park, only one, kudzu

(Pueraria lobata), has been thoroughly mapped

and populations treated. Long-term effects of

those treatments are not adequately monitored.

Eradication treatment for many species, such as

Microstegium, a Japanese grass that is taking

over the forest floor in disturbed areas, is just

now being studied, with no promising

treatment yet discovered. The illegal taking of

plants and animals is another activity that is

known to occur in the park, but the extent of it

is unknown.

RECREATION-CAUSED IMPACTS

Only 13 of the 252 area managers

included in the Washbume and Cole survey

indicated no recreation problems in their

management units. Perceptions of recreationcaused impacts by the 1987 sample of

wilderness unit managers is portrayed in table

2. Response summaries displayed are only for

those instances where managers considered the

impacts to be a problem in many places.

On an average, human-caused adverse

impact from recreational activity frequently

occurs in one out of four wilderness units.

Vegetation damage around campsites was most

frequently cited. It is considered to be a

problem at a few areas by 46.7 percent of the

respondents, and a problem at many areas by

36.7 percent of the respondents. The 7-year

trend indicates an increase in damage for 12

percent of the areas and a decline in damage in

10 percent of the areas.

At GSMNP from 1980 to 1985, a 50

percent decline occurred in backcountry

overnight use, from approximately 100,000 to

50,000 overnight stays. During that period, an

extensive mapping of bare ground at

backcountry campsites was conducted and

revealed significant recovery at a majority of

the sites. However, the trend in the Smokies

is not universal. The problem of crowding

occurred in 16 percent of the areas. The

problem of litter, of similar magnitude to

crowding, may show slight improvement.

Over 85 percent of the managers indicated

litter was a problem in at least some places in

their areas. A few more indicated an

improvement (14 percent) than a decline (10

percent) in this impact.

Comparisons of recreation-caused impacts

by Region size and agency are displayed in

table 3. Human-caused impacts on vegetation

are greater in the West than the East. This is

undoubtedly due in part to the fact that Eastern

areas are more likely to be mesic and have

greater species diversity so they may be more

resilient to human activity and recover more

quickly from it. Interestingly, large wilderness

areas are much mom frequently cited than

small areas (under 50,000 acres) as having

diverse impact from human activity. Sixty

percent of the managers of large areas cited

vegetation trampling at campgrounds as a

problem in many places. Soil compaction was

cited almost as frequently. Litter was cited as

a serious problem three times as often by

managers of large versus small areas.

23
Table 1. -- Status of reported threats in the Global Park Assessment

Subsystem

NS% N-%

Total

Water

Eil

Vegetation

Animal life

Management Other

Source: Machlis and Tichnell 1985

7.

Table 2. -- Trends in recreation-caused impacts for a 50-unit sample of the National Wilderness

Preservation System

% of units having

“a problem in

% Change

from 1980

Impacts

many places”

in 1987 Worse Better

Human-caused vegetation impacts

Trails Campsites 36.7 224 :t 1:

Waterbodies 28.6 16 8

Human-caused soil impacts

Trails 26.5 2 8

Campsites 28.6 10 10

Waterbodies 8.2 14 8

Pa&stock-caused vegetation impact

Trails Campsites 15.914 : :

Waterbodies 2.3 10 2

Pa&stock-caused soil impact

Trails Campsites 18.216 :: ;

W aterbodies 2.3 10 2

Other recreation-caused impacts

On wildlife

:f

10

Water pollution

16:3

:; :

Litter 14

Human waste 10.2 4

Crowding 18.4

::

6

Conflicts between users 4.1

Trailhead vandalism 12.2 :;

4

Theft within area 14.3 2; :

Boundary-related problems 28.6 22

Source: 1988 National Wilderness System assessment

24
Table 3. -- Comparison of recreation-caused impacts among subsets of the National Wilderness

Preservation System

Impacts

HuT,,n;caused vegetation impacts

Campsites 26.:

Waterbodies 17:6

Human-caused soil impacts

Trails 23.5

Campsites 29.4

Waterbodies 41.2

Pa&stock-caused vegetation impacts

Trails 13.3

Campsites 13.3

Waterbodies

Pa&stock-caused soil impacts

13.3

Trails 13.3

Campsites

Waterbodies 1%

Othe; reFe;on-caused impacts

Water pollution :,“9

Litter 11:8

Humanwaste 11.8

Crowding 11.8

Conflicts between users 5.9

Trailhead vandalism

Theft within area 1:*:

Boundary related problems 23:5

31.3 28.0 16.7 29.4 23.1

40.6 60.0 12.5 47.1 34.6

34.4 32.0 25.0 35.3 30.8

28.1

28.1

12.5

%

20.8

12:o :::

35.3 26.9

41.2 26.9

11.8 7.7

17.2

10.3

3.4

21.7

14.4 :;

0 4:8

26.1 9.5

17.4

0 :::

21.4

3;::

16.7

16.7

4.2

20.7

14.3

3.4

21.4 20.8

57.1 21.7

21.4 4.2

9.4

3.1

18.8

2;:;

1%

31.3

12.0

2% 34::

16:0 :;

20.0 16:7

20:o 1:: 14::

28.0 2;:;

17.6 3.8

2%

11:8

1:.:

11:5

11.8 26.9

::; 1:::

3i.3 1;:;

‘West = West of Great Plains

‘Large = greater than 50,000 acres

Source: 1988 National Wilderness System assessment

National Park Service managers were more

likely to cite recreation caused impacts than

were USDA Forest Service managers. One

exception to this is in citation of crowding,

where more than twice as many Forest Service

managers as Park Service managers cited it as

a widespread problem.

EXTERNAL THREATS

Cumulative rank order responses for the

significance of external threats are

displayed in table 4. Military operations,

namely overflights, was ranked frrst among all

threats listed. The all-pervasive airborne

pollution ranked a close second. As shown in

table 5, air pollution was the least often

mentioned as an insignificant threat. Fires set

by man was the next most frequently

mentioned threat of the slightly (2 level) and

somewhat significant (3 level) categories.

Exotic plant species was the most frequently

mentioned threat in the very significant (4

level) category, and military operations was

most often mentioned in the extremely

significant category. (The military operations

25
Table 4. -- Rank order of external threats to the National Wilderness Preservation System (n = 50)

External threat category Rank Order

Military operations (overflights)

Air pollution :.

Exotic plant species

Fires set by man :

Tourist

Poaching 2

Exotic wildlife species

Water pollution ;

Mining/prospecting for minerals 9

Industrial development

Livestock grazing ::

Logging activity

Exotic pathogens K

Exotic insect pests

Overpopulation of native species :f

Oil and gas mining 15

Incompatible use of inholding properties 17

Thermal mining 17

Source: 1988 National Wilderness System assessment

Table 5. -- The degree of significance of external threats to the National Wilderness Preservation

System (n = 50)

_

Significance Level

External Threat Category

2 3 4 5

(No; (Extremely)

Poaching 50 22 20 8 0

Incomp&ble use of inholding properties

Fires set by man

Exotic plant species

Exotic wildlife species

Exotic insect pests

Exotic pathogens

Overpopulation of native species

Livestock grazing

Military operations (overflights)

Logging activities

Air pollution

Water pollution

Tourism

Oil and gas mining

Mining/prospecting of minerals

Thermal mining

Industrial development

21

12

:

:

:;:

10

18

12

20

6

:

6

Source: 1988 National Wilderness System assessment

26
Figure 1. -- Number of known and suspected threats to National Parks (by threat category) which

require research to adequately document, as compared with threats which are adequately

documented by research _

Threat Category

Air Pollution

Water QltylQnty

Esthetic Degradation

Phy. Removal of Rea.

Exotic Encroachment

Viaitor Phya. Impact

Park Operatione

0 200 400 000 000 1000 1200 1400

Total Number of Threats Reported

m Docd.= m Reqd.-

* Adequately Documented by Research

** Known or Suspected Threats which Require Research to Adequately Document

Source: National Park Service, 1980 Report to Congress on the State of the Parks

Table 6. -- Comparisons of external threats among subsets of the National Wilderness Preservation

System (n = 50)

% of unit managers cons’derine threat not significant

East/West’ &ge/Small’ NPSKJSFS

External threats n=17/ n=33 n=25/ n=25 n=18/ n=26

Poaching 29

66; ::

60

Inholders :: ::

69

Fires by man

Exotic plants 41 :;

44 E 44 ;:

61

Exotic wildlife 71

: ;zi

Exotic insects 71

:5

i

Exotic pathogens 80

:;

76

t: ::

76;

:;

77

Overpopulation 85

Livestock 100 38; 56 54 !; 52

Military (overflights)

Logging ;; :: ;t ;:

28 46

67

Air pollution 53 :; 28 52 ;; :z

Water pollution

Tourism

4;

48

:; 48

64 ;:

oil dz gas 82 85

:: ::

;; 92

Mining Thermal 7688 7094 f! 96 76; 1;

Industrial development 76 76 80 61 81

l West = West of great plains

2 Large greater than = 50,000 acres

Source: 1988 National Wilderness System assessment

27
Table 7. -- Ten most reported threats of the Global Park Assessment (n=98)

Subsystem Threat N %

Animal life Illegal removal of animal life 74 76

Management Lack of personnel 72 73

Vegetation

soil

Removal of vegetation

Erosion g Z

Management Local attitudes 42 53

Management Conflicting demands

Vegetation Fire :; ::

Animal life Human harassment

Animal life Loss of habitat :; :;

Vegetation Trampling 46 47

Source: Machlis and Tichnell 1985

Table 8. -- Ranking of threats cited by 1980 State of Parks report

Threat Category Number of citations

Noise - motor vehicles and aircraft 153

Land development 120

Exotic plants 116

Utility access 110

Overcrowding and vandalism 107

Roads and railroads 106

:~l?ing

104

102

Soil erosion 100

Urban encroachment 193

Source: National Park Service, 1980 Report to Congress on the State of the Parks

category is somewhat misleading in that it

refers primarily to overflight, and some

respondents may have included commercial or

private air traffic within the category.)

Comparisons of responses to the external

threats question for various subsets of the

sample population of unit managers are

displayed in table 6. External threats were

more likely to be cited in the Western than

Eastern units, in large rather than small units,

and in those units managed by the Park

Service rather than the Forest Service.

Disparity between agencies was most extreme

for the threat categories of poaching, exotic

plants, exotic wildlife, air pollution, and

tourism. This dichotomy for these categories

held true for large versus small units as well

Agency differences probably reflect differences

in core agency missions as well as the fact that

the Forest Service units tended more to the

West, where they are more likely to be

surrounded by large buffer zones of Federally

owned land. Six of the 17 Eastern wilderness

units were managed by the Forest Service.

Machlis and Tichnell did not differentiate

between internal versus external or recreation

versus other internal activity, but their list of

most reported threats, as displayed in table 7,

is quite similar to that displayed in table 4.

Many on the list are human behavior problems.

28
Table 8 is a list of threats to parks from

the 1980 NPS study. Again, many recurring

themes occur

At GSMNP, the number one threat to the

park is the external threat of air pollution. The

extent of the adverse effect is yet to be

determined, but scientific study to date has

clearly indicated a significant decline in

visibility and a high degree of pollutants

loading in the high elevation forests. Ozone

damage to plant foliage is widely documented.

The high-elevation red spruce trees are in a

severe state of decline in vigor. Other external

threats of key importance are tourism-related

development adjacent to the park; poaching of

plants and animals; fires set by man; and

exotic pathogens, insects, and plants. The next

wave of extreme stress will be from the exotic

gypsy mom

CONCLUSIONS

The concept of wilderness in perpetuity

might be overly optimistic. Global climatic

change could drastically change biological

elements of our National Wilderness

Preservation System. The threats to the system

are numerous and not well documented. Those

that are most likely to receive ag essive

management action are associatefwith

recreational use, The National Park Service is

more likely to place restrictions on public use

of wilderness and more frequently cited threats

associated with exotic species and poaching.

The USDA Forest Service was more concerned

with crowding than the National Park Service.

There may be a problem with a lack of

recognition of threats in some circles. The

external threats are particularly troublesome

since the means to deal with them tend to be

beyond the authority of the unit manager.

The following recommendations are

suggested:

1. Establishment of a long-term, ecologically

based monitoring program for the

wilderness system to evaluate nature’s

response to anthropogenic influences.

2. More uniformity of wilderness

management policy among agencies.

3. A standard data base on wilderness.

4. A means of liaison between the site

manager and the perpetrators of the

external threats.

REFERENCES

Burgess, J. S., and E. Woolmington. 1981.

Threat and stress in the Clarence River

Estuary of Northern South Wales. Human

Ecology 9(4) (419-43 1).

Machlis, G. E., and D. L. Tichnell. 1985.

The state of the world’s parks. Westview

Press, Boulder and London.

National Park Service. 1980. State of the

parks, 1980. A Report to the Congress.

Office of Science and Technology,

National Park Service, U.S. Department of

the Interior, Washington, DC.

Washbume, R. F., and D. N. Cole. 1983.

Problems and practices in wilderness

management: a survey of managers. Res.

Paper INT-304, USDA Forest Service,

Intermountain Forest and Range

Experiment Station, Ogden, UT.

29
DE FACTO W ILDERNESS:

LANDS COMPLEMENTARY TO

TH E NATIONAL W ILDERNESS SYSTEM

Curt Sope r and Joh n W . H um k e *

ABSTRACT

Th e W ild e rness Act d efines w ild e rness in

part as land retaining its prim eval ch aracte r

and influence, w h ich is protected and m anage d

to preserve its natural cond itions, is of

sufficient size to m ak e practicable its

preservation and m ay contain ecological,

geological, and -oth e r features of scientific,

e ducational, scenic or h istoric value. In th e

United States th e re are Fede ral, State, and

private system s of land th at are of sim ilar

ch aracte r and serve to com plem ent th e

National W ild e rness System . Th e principal,

but not exclusive, purpose of th ese nonw ild e rness land system s is to ensure th e longte rm preservation and m aintenance of th e

Nation’s elem ents of natural d ive rsity. W ith

th is objective, th ese lands prim arily serve nonrecreational purposes, alth ough , lik e National

W ild erness System s lands, m an usually is

allow ed to com e as a visitor. Th e re are

natural preserve designations at all levels of

gove rnm ent, as w ell as oth e r recreational,

w ildlife, open space, and scenic land system s

th at, to a greate r or lesser d egre e, com plem ent

th e National W ild e rness System . Th is paper

w ill attem pt to treat public and private nature

preserves fairly com preh ensively because it is

th ese lands th at m ost closely replicate and

contribute to th e non- recreational aspects of

w ild erness.

MAJOR FEDERAL AGENCIES W ITH

NATURAL AREA PROGRAMS

Five major Federal agencies are

responsible for managing more than 723

million acres (BLM 1983). Together, these

agencies make up the bulk of the Federal

estate as well as the bulk of both established

and de facto wilderness Nationwide.

National Park Se rvice

Th e National Park Service administers 339

National Park System units encompassing 79

million acres (National Park Service 1986).

Lands are managed for recreation and

preservation under a variety of names,

including National Parks, National Monuments,

National Historic Sites, National Historical

Parks, National Recreation Areas, National

Seashores, and National Lakeshores.

It is difficult to ascertain precisely what

portion of the National Park System is

managed for natural diversity because the

agency generally has avoided using special

designations to indicate which lands serve

which purpose. Their current approach is to

recognize that lands may have several

attributes and to manage all lands as “jewels in

a crown of jewels” (National Park Service

1964). However, in the 1960’s and 1970’s the

Park Service categorized their lands as natural,

recreational, and historic. In 1975, 83 percent

of Park Service land was in the natural

category. If the same ratio holds true today,

and it should because the major additions have

been in Alaska, there would be 66 million

acres of natural lands. Some 36.8 million

acres of these lands are currently wilderness

(Wilderness Society 1987).

Within each park, regardless of the

management category or the natural or historic

theme it portrays, the Park Service classifies all

* Regional D irector of Preserve Selection & Design, W este rn R egion, San Francisco, CA, The Nature

Conse rvancy; R egional Vice President, M idw est R egion, M inneapolis, M N, The Nature Conse rvancy.

30
lands for management purposes on a land

classification system designed to recognize the

inherent qualities of park land, the visitor uses

they may serve, and the special uses allowed

by law or administrative regulations.

The National Park Service natural zones

are subdivided into wilderness/wilderness

study, environmental protection, outstanding

natural features, and natural environment

subzones. There also are historic development

and special use zones. The National Park

Service has also participated in the interagency

Research Natural Area Program (table 2).

Based on the premise that the National Park

Service manages its natural lands for their

inherent qualities, the 29.2 million acres of

non-wilderness natural-lands can be described

as contributing significantly ,towards nonrecreational wilderness objectives.

United States Fish and Wildlife Service

The US Fish and Wildlife Service

administers the 90million acre National

Wildlife Refuge System (U.S. Fish and

Wildlife Service 1985). The refuge system

includes National wildlife refuges, game

ranges, wildlife management areas, waterfowl

production areas, and areas for the protection

and conservation of fish and wildlife that are

threatened with extinction, The Service

administers and manages these lands for

purposes that range from strict protection of a

specific species or native habitat to major

habitat manipulation and change. Therefore, it

is difficult to say what percent of the total

non-wilderness portion of the refuge system is

maintained in a natural condition, It is, no

doubt, significant acreage.

In addition to the 19.4 million acres of

wilderness that the Fish and Wildlife Service

manages, they have an internal Public Use

Natural Areas Program and participate in the

interagency Research Natural Area Program.

A “Public Natural Area,” a Fish and Wildlife

Service administratively created designation, is

defined as ‘I. . . a relatively undisturbed

ecosystem or sub-ecosystem that can be

enjoyed by the public under certain restrictions

without destroying it” (US Fish and Wildlife

Service 1972). Along with Research Natural

Areas, Public Use Natural Areas serve to

preserve for the future valuable environments

that are essentially unmodified to man.

There are currently 37 Public Use Natural

Areas covering 210,673 acres and 186

Research Natural Areas covering 1,850,685

acres (table 1).

Table 1. -- Established Research Natural

Areas by Agency’

Agency

USDA

Forest Service

USDI

RNAs Acres

160 181,041

Fish & Wildlife Service 186 1,850,685

USDI

National Park Service 66 2,000,000

Bureau of Land Mgt. 100 190,138

Department of Defense _5 ?

Totals 517 4,221,864+

’ Data from personal communication between

authors and agency personnel.

The Fish and Wildlife Service also

administers the Federal Endangered Species

Act of 1973 as amended. This act requires all

Federal agencies to utilize their authority to

carry out programs for the conservation of

officially listed endangered and threatened

species. To facilitate this process, “critical

habitat” may be designated during the listing

process for each species; this constitutes the

geographical areas occupied by that species

that are essential to its conservation. There are

now a total of 101 species that have been

listed with designated critical habitat (U.S. Fish

and Wildlife Service 1988).

Bureau of Land Management

The BLM owns and manages some 341

million acres of the Federal estate, almost

entirely in the Western half of the country

(BLM 1983). These lands are managed under

31
a multiple use policy as outlined and specified

in the Classification and Multiple Use Act of

1965 and the Federal Land Policy and

Management Act of 1976 (FLPMA), Among

the expressed land use categories for BLM

property are wilderness and a host of other

designations that have non-recreational

wilderness values. To date, the BLM has

established 23 wilderness areas totalling

370,000 acres (Wilderness Society 1987).

Several State BLM offices are in the process

of analyzing a number of wilderness study

areas for potential Congressional designation.

Along with other Federal agencies, the

BLM has participated in the National Research

Natural Areas system (table 2). This agency

has also used many other special designations

but brings them all together in its Areas of

Critical Environmental’Concem (ACEC)

Mandated by the FLPMA legislation,

gz:i%as are designated when special

management attention is needed to protect

important historic, cultural, scenic, and/or

natural values. Those identified for natural

values best represent non-recreational

wilderness values. There are a total of 281

established ACECs covering 5.1 million acres

(BLM 1987). A majority of these have

substantial natural area values.

USDA Forest Service

The USDA Forest Service owns and

manages over 191 million acres (USDA Forest

Service 1986). As with the BLM, these lands

are managed under a multiple use concept.

Guidance has been provided by the National

Forest Management Act of 1976, which called

for the generation of individual National Forest

plans to allocate specific land uses. To date,

the Forest Service has 338 units of established

wilderness totaling 32.4 million acres (USDA

Forest Service 1987). Other protective

designations used internally by the agency

which have significant natural diversity values

include Research Natural Areas and Special

Interest Areas.

The Forest Service has traditionally been

the lead agency in the Federal Research

Natural Area program (see RNA section).

Much of the substance and direction for the

system has developed within the Forest Service

beginning in 1925 with the first official

designation, There are now 160 established

Forest Service RNAs totaling 181,041 acres

with over 500 new areas proposed in forest

plans and pending designation (tables 1 and

2)Special Interest Areas are designated

administratively under the recreation branch of

the Forest Service with their objective being to

protect and manage special recreation areas

with scenic, geological, botanical, zoological,

paleontological, archeological, or other special

characteristics (USDA Forest Service 1986).

Of these categories, only the botanical,

zoological, and geological themes contribute

substantial non-recreational wilderness values.

There are currently 45 such areas in the

National Forest system, with more likely as

forest plans are finalized (USDA Forest Service

1987).

Department of Defense

The defense agencies (Army, Air Force,

Navy, Marines, and Army Corps of Engineers)

together own and manage over 22 million

acres of the Federal estate (BLM 1983). The

Department of Defense recognizes natural

resource management for environmental

quality, which can include the selection of

lands as natural areas (Department of Defense

1965). The individual defense agencies have

participated in various Federal land protection

programs in a limited fashion by designating a

handful of Research Natural Areas, National

Wildlife Refuges, and National Monuments on

their lands (tables 1 and 3). Although the

Department of Defense has relatively few

established natural areas, their lands contain

substantial biological diversity and hold great

potential for adding to the National system of

de facto wilderness.

Research Natural Areas Program

The one Federal program that probably

best represents non-recreational wilderness

values is the Research Natural Areas system.

This designation is used by all the major

Federal land managing agencies and carries

with it a connotation of relatively strict

management practices for the preservation of

natural diversity. There are now 517

established Federal RNAs with more pending

(tables 2 and 3).

32
Table 2. -- Established and Proposed USDA FS RNAs by Region’

FS Region Established Proposed Total

1 (Northern) 20 75 95

2 (Rocky Mountain) 13

3 (Southwest) 14

4 (Intermountain) 19

5 (Pacific Southwest) 15

6 (Pacific Northwest) 39

8 (Southern) 22

_.

9 (Eastern) 12

10 (Alaska) 4

Totals 160

l Data from Mr. Russell Bums, USDA FS, W ash ington, DC.

12 25

29 43

89 118

84 99

80 119

17 39

140 152

_zz ae

549 709

Table 3. -- Major Federal De Facts Wilderness Designation Types

Agencies’

Designations’ USFWS NPS USFS BLM DOD Congress

Research Natural D,M D,M D,M D,M D,M --

Areas

National Parks --

and Monuments

M M -- M D

National Wildlife D,M -- -- -- M D

Refuges

Critical Habitat D,M M M M M --

Wild and Scenic M M M M -- D

Rivers

Areas of Critical --

Env. Concern

-- -- D,M -- --

Special Interest -- --

Areas

D,M __ __ __

’ USFWS = US Fish and Wildlife Service; NPS = National Park Service; USFS = US Forest

Service; BLM = Bureau of Land Management; DOD = Department of Defense.

2 D = Designation Authority; M = Management and/or Ownership Authority.

33
Guidelines for the identification,

establishment, and management of RNAs were

originally developed by the Forest Service.

Each agency that uses the RNA designation

has its own internal procedures for establishment, but the Forest Service manual provides a

good overview. Objectives for the RNA

system therein include preserving a wide

spectrum of pristine representative ecosystems,

preserving and maintaining genetic diversity,

and serving as reference baseline areas for

studying succession, and monitoring the effects

of resource management practices.

Management standards are designed to protect

RNAs against activities that directly or

indirectly modify ecological processes (USDA

Forest Service 1985).

Wild and Scenic Rivers

In 1968, Congress enacted the Wild and

Scenic Rivers Act. The purpose of this act is

to preserve selected rivers or sections thereof

in their free-flowing condition to protect water

quality of such rivers and to fulfill other vital

National conservation purposes. Three levels

of designation/protection are defined in the act:

Wild, Scenic, and Recreation. Of these, only

the Wild designation contains specific

management provisions which qualify it for

inclusion as de facto wilderness. A total o f

7,363 river miles of 72 individual rivers have

been designated Nationally as Wild and Scenic

Rivers to date. Of this total, 4,293 river miles

are designated as Wild (National Park Service

1986b). Ownership of these river miles

includes Park Service, Forest Service, BLM,

and Fish and Wildlife Service, among others

(table 1).

State Activities

Every State has some form of de facto

wilderness system within one or more of its

land managing departments. The entities of

State government involved range from

Departments of Transportation to Divisions of

Water Resources but most typically include

some forms of designation administered by

State Parks, Game and Fish, and/or Natural

Resource agencies.

Many States have established nature

preserve programs which are established and

managed exclusively for the preservation of

natural diversity. Some nine States have their

own internal wilderness systems similar to the

Federal system, set up via State law or

administrative regulation. These programs,

among all other State natural area activities,

contribute the most in terms of National nonrecreational wilderness values. Some State

nature preserve programs receive significant

State government funding and actively acquire

and manage new lands via purchase, while

others identify and designate the most

appropriate existing State-owned lands for

preservation. The nine States with wilderness

systems have established at least 50 areas

totaling more than 1.7 million acres (Natural

Areas Journal 1984).

Natural Heritage Inventories and databases

exist in 48 States. Developed originally by

The Nature Conservancy in the 1970’s. these

programs contain detailed manual and

computerized data on rare and endangered

species and native ecosystems. Jn most States,

Natural Heritage Programs are now partially or

wholly operated by State government. They are

used extensively by the private and public

sectors as a tool to help determine conservation

priorities of specific sites and to track the

status of species of concern.

Private Preserves and Related Systems

Systems of privately held preserves that

contribute to the protection of natural areas fall

into two categories: (1) National nonprofit

organizations and (2) local or regional land

trusts. Relatively few of the National

organizations are set up to acquire and manage

parcels of land. The Nature Conservancy and

the Audubon Society are the two most

significant ones.

The Nature Conservancy has established

the largest system of privately held reserves in

the world. Their preserves are identified,

established, and managed strictly for the

purpose of protecting natural diversity. To

date, the Conservancy has protected 2,866

preserves totaling 2.68 million acres through

various mechanisms including easements and

34
leases as well as outright ownership (The

Nature Conservancy 1987).

The Audubon Society operates a National

system of wildlife sanctuaries. The primary

objective of these sanctuaries is the long-term

protection of plants and animals, especially

threatened and endangered species. There are

a total of 68 Audubon sanctuaries Nationwide

totaling 133,332 acres (Audubon Society

1987).

Land trusts include local or regional

private conservation organizations working in

the direct protection of lands with open space,

recreation, or natural resource values. There

am 535 land trusts operating in 45 States

which own or have under conservation

easement 737,000 acres (Stone 1985). It is not

known what percentage of these lands could be

considered de facto wilderness.

CONCLUSIONS AND

RECOMMENDATIONS

There is a developed system of nonwilderness lands that contribute to the

preservation and maintenance of the Nation’s

natural diversity and that can be considered &

m wilderness. The mechanisms for

identifying and offkially protecting the most

significant sites have been developed, and a

number of areas have become established

under the various existing programs. The

important goals of these programs, however,

are far from being met. Biological diversity in

the United States is declining at an alarming

rate. Native habitats are being altered on a

large scale, and unless conservation efforts am

increased substantially over the next 10 to 15

years, many will be lost permanently. The

Federal land managing agencies need to place

more emphasis on their various natural area

systems and increase their level of participation

in certain geographical regions. Some Forest

Service Regions are lagging behind in

proposing and establishing RNAs, and the

identification and designation of biological

Special Interest Areas needs attention in most

regions. The BLM’s ACEC program is

inconsistent with a few States having virtually

no program at all. Management guidance and

practices on established ACECs also need

proper development if these important areas are

to be a valuable contributor to the National

system of protected areas. The Department of

Defense needs to develop its own formal

natural areas system or participate fully in the

existing RNA system.

States without nature preserve programs

designed specifically to protect natural diversity

need to develop them. State funding for the

acquisition of important sites should be a part

of each of these programs. Innovative

mechanisms for dedicating such funding have

been developed in several States and could be

utilized elsewhere.

private efforts aimed at preserving key

parcels of land must be redoubled. Many

important natural areas can only be

safeguarded through the expensive acquisition

of privately owned property. The Nature

Conservancy must continue to expand its

protection efforts and reach or exceed its goal,

set in 1986, to raise $300 million in private

funds by 1990 in support of those efforts.

Beyond 1990, they will need to set and reach

higher goals. Other National conservation

organizations and local land trusts will also

need to increase their land protection activities.

Finally, cooperation and teamwork

between the various non-wilderness land

protection programs should increase. More

Statewide or regional natural area committees,

with interagency and private organization

participation, should become active. Such

communication will help set important

priorities for each entity in the huge task

ahead.

35
REFERENCES

Audubon Society 1987. National Audubon

Society Properties.

Classification and Multiple Use Act. 1965.

Endangered Species Act. 1973. as amended.

Federal Land Policy Management Act. 1976.

National Forest Management Act. 1976.

Natural Areas Programs State Reports. 1987.

Fourteenth Annual Natural Areas

Conference. IIIinois Department of

Conservation, Division of Natural

Heritage. -.

Natural Areas Journ& 1984. Wilderness,

wiIdIands. Natural Areas Journal 4(4).

Nature Conservancy. 1982. Preserving our

naturaI heritage, Volume III - private,

academic, and local government activities.

U.S. Department of the Interior,

EFmment Pnntmg Office, Washington,

.

Nature Conservancy. 1976. Preserving our

natural heritage, Volume II - sta&

activities. U.S. Department of the Interior,

$vemment Printmg Office, Washington,

.

Nature Conservancy. 1975b. Preserving our

natural heritage, Volume I - Federal

activities. U.S. Department of the Interior,

Government Printing Office, Washington, nfl

UL.

Nature Conservancy. 1975a. The preservation

of natural diversity: A survey and

recommendations. U.S. Department of the

Interior, Government Printing Office,

Washington, DC.

Nature Conservancy. 1987. Preserve and tract

data bases. Stewardship Department.

Stone, P. K. 1985. 1985-86 National Directory

of Local and Regional Land Conservation

Organizations. Land Trust Exchange, Bar

Harbor, ME.

U.S. Department of Defense. 1965. Natural

resources - conservation and management.

Directive 5500.5. Washington, DC.

U.S. Department of Agriculture, USDA Forest

Service. 1986b. Land areas of the

National Forest System. Report #383.

U.S. Department of Agriculture, USDA Forest

Service. 1986a. Title 2300 - Recreation,

Wilderness, and Related Resource

Management. Chapter 2370 - Special

Recreation Designations. Forest Service

Manual.

U.S. Department of Agriculture, USDA Forest

Service. 1985. Series 4000 - Research.

Section 4063 - Research Natural Areas.

Forest Service Manual.

U.S. Department of Interior, Bureau of Land

Management. 1987. Areas of critical

environmental concern and other special

designations on public lands, fiscal year

1988. From: BLM (WO-760).

U.S. Department of Interior, U.S. Fish and

Wildlife Service. 1985. Lands under

control of the U.S. Fish and Wildlife

Service. Annual Report.

U.S. Department of Interior, Bureau of Land

h$n,nIeyt. 1983. Pubhc Lands

U.S. Department of Interior, U.S. Fish and

Wildlife Service. 1972. Wildlife Refuge

Handbook.

U.S. Department of Interior, U.S. Fish and

Wildlife Service. 1988. Listing and

recovery data bases. Washington, DC.

Personal communication with authors.

U.S. Department of Interior, National Park

Service. 1986b. Status of the wild and

scenic rivers program. National Park

Service Summary.

U.S. Department of Interior, Bureau of Land

Management. Undated. Managing special

areas on the public lands. A summary

report on special area policy and procedure.

36
U.S. Department of Interior, National Park

Service. 1986a. Park designations and how

the sites are managed.

U.S. Department of Agriculture, USDA Forest

Service. 1987. Discover your national

parks.

U.S. Department of Interior, National Park

Service. 1964. Administrative policies -

natural area category. revised 1970.

Appendix A-3, Memorandum from

Secretary of the Interior Stewart Udall to

George Hartzog, Director of National Park

Service.

Wild and Scenic Rivers Act. 1968, as

amended. -.

Wilderness Society. 1987. Wilderness units

and acreage of Federal agencies. Personal

communication with authors.

Wilderness Act. 1964.

37
UNDERSTANDING TH E DEMAND FOR MORE W ILDERNESS

Michael McCloskey*

ABSTRACT

Th e topic posed for m e -- “W h at If W e Do

Noth ing?” i.e., “w h at if the National

W ild erness Preservation System stays the sam e

in te rm s of siz e, location, d ive rsity, and

m anagem ent?” - - m ust be intended to provok e

inq uiry into th e case for m ore w ild e rness,

particularly in te rm s of th e non- recreational

values of w ild erness. Und er the h ypoth esis

posed, th e question m ust b e: w h at w ould

h appen if th e ptiic is frustrated by th e failure

of Gove rnm ent to respond to its dem ands for

m ore w ild e rness?

R ath e r th an try to cope w ith wh at I

regard as a totally unlik ely h ypoth esis, I w ill

inte rpret th e question as a w ay of getting at

und e rstand ing th e nature of public d em and for

m ore w ild e rness in all its aspects.

INTRODUCTION

In the 1960’s, recreational use of

wilderness achieved a central place in the case

of more wilderness. With the “baby boom”

generation growing up and changing attitudes,

wilderness use skyrocketed, increasing lo-25

percent per year (Hendee and Stankey 1973).

Now with an aging population, less leisure

time, and reduced mobility, wilderness use is

leveling off. However, the data presented by

the President’s Commission on Americans

Outdoors suggest that almost 20 million

Americans backpack, which is mainly done in

wilderness-type areas (President’s Commission

1987). Thus, the recreational constituency for

wilderness is substantial, even if it is no longer

growing explosively.

However, what is continuing to grow

explosively is the demand for quality in the

areas used, even though the frequency of use

may be less. A survey done for the President’s

Commission on American Outdoors by the

* Ch airm an, Sierra Club, W ash ington, D C

National Geographic Society found that “when

people go to parks their most important criteria

are the natural beauty of the area and whether

it is crowded or uncrowded”(Shabecoff 1986).

In that same survey, 68 percent of the public

said they “enjoy being in nature.” These

responses express a desire for quality in

outdoor experiences, and wilderness epitomizes

that desire.

The greatest change over the past 20

years in terms of the policy debate over

questions of wilderness and public lands is

toward the quality of the experience as

opposed to the quantity of users. To a certain

extent, this shift mirrors the changes wrought

by environmentalism. Questions of ecology,

biological diversity, and the maintenance of

geophysical systems’ integrity have displaced

discussion of recreational use patterns. The

gross number of users is no longer a

paramount concern, particularly with the

National Park Service demonstrating techniques

to limit and control numbers of users of

wilderness. In the context of wilderness,

accordingly the more relevant considerations

today are the non-recreational bases for valuing

wilderness: its ability to maintain natural

diversity, in situ germ plasm, ecosystem

integrity, nongame wildlife habitat; and its

contributions to geophysical system health and

watershed function. Various offsite uses,

including vicarious use and what some call

“existence and bequest” valuations, are another

consideration.

In some ways, the dialogue has shifted

toward what some might call a more

“biocentric” concept (Hendee and Stankey

1973) of wilderness valuation and away from

an “anthropocentric” concept. When John

Hendee suggested these terms 15 years ago,

they reflected the debate over “purism,” but

they ring truer today in terms of the valuations

just described. In short, the constituency for

wilderness wants it to be there regardless of

38
the fluctuations in recreational use of specific

areas. Many would say “we need wilderness

even if no one goes there.”

The constituency for wilderness expresses

its demands through pressures upon Congress

to add more units to the National Wilderness

Preservation System. To a limited extent, the

demand exerts itself on land management

agencies too, but because final and binding

decisions are made by Congress, the pressures

are directed primarily there. This may make it

seem that the subject can only be discussed in

the terminology of political debate, and clearly

management agencies yearn for a more

objective and even a scientific vocabulary for

discussion. But, if the discussion is to be

useful in the real world in which the decisions

are in fact made, there must be no flight from

reality into a vocabulary which is selfdeceptive, albeit comfortable.

The relevant discipline for analyzing

decisions made by the national legislative body

is political science. Underlying theory can be

analyzed, trends in public opinion can be

charted, the nature of the interests at stake can

be examined and their relative strength

assessed, and the behavior of the Congress in

dealing with wilderness questions can be

studied. Inquiries of this sort will shed light

on what is really going on and can at least

provide a realistic context for management

agencies to understand what is happening when

wilderness questions are decided. In this

paper, I will provide an introduction to this

mode of analysis, with some flavor provided.

More work would be needed to flesh out the

analysis.

An alternative discipline which purports to

offer an objective framework for discussing

this subject is economics. Economists are

devising techniques for assigning dollar values

to such concepts as “option demands” and

similar ones (Chichetti and Smith 1973). All of

these efforts involve guessing at how much the

public would pay for various values of

wilderness if a real market existed for buying

and selling wilderness. Some of these efforts

also assume that wilderness is really owned by

private commodity interests and that the public

is buying back the opportunity to have these

areas. Of course, the reverse is the case: the

public owns wilderness on public lands, and

private commodity interests are trying to buy

rights to take away wilderness values--to take

various natural resources for private gain

Rolston 1985). In any event, all of these

efforts--some of which are interesting--strain at

imagining what a market would look like in

wilderness values. The fundamental point to

remember is that all of these efforts are

imaginary; they do not describe anything real.

The real marketplace that exists is the

political one--the system by which Congress

makes decisions. If one wants reality, that is

the system to study, not systems of elaborate

imagination. Imagining what people would

pay to have wilderness under hypothesized

market systems says very little about what

Congress will in fact do in response to the

public demand that it sees. Congress’ decisions

reflect the actual value that the body politic

places on having wilderness.

Underlying Theory

Today wilderness advocates place less

emphasis on the recreational case for

wilderness than they did in the decade-long

struggle for the Wilderness Act.

In 1966, I summed up the case which had

been made for wilderness in an article

published in the Oregon Law Review entitled

“The Wilderness Act of 1964: Its Background

and Meaning” (McCloskey 1966). Eleven

bases for valuing wilderness were set forth,

five early and six contemporary, which I would

summarize as follows:

Early Valuations

(1) As a place of challenge and selfdiscovery of one’s capacity;

(2) As a setting for a religious

experience (e.g., “temple of nature”);

(3) As a setting for political reform (e.g.,

“return to nature”);

(4) As a place of refuge (e.g., simple life

of Walden Pond);

(5) As the center of conflicts over

threatened nature;

Contemporary Valuations

(6) As a cultural heritage (e.g., as an

historic or esthetic experience or source of

inspiration);

39
(7) As a setting of scientific value (e.g.,

benchmarks, in situ gene banks, discovery of

new species of economic value, center of

further evolutionary development);

(8) As an expression of ethical

obligations to nature (e,g., of an “ecological

conscience”);

(9) As a setting for an educational

experience (e.g., nature study);

(10) As a place for therapy (e.g., to

overcome the stresses of modern urban life);

(11) As a recreational setting (e.g., for

backpacking and what is now called “adventure

travel”).

Even during the campaign for the

Wilderness Act, recreation was of less

importance as the case was articulated;

probably less thaii half of the valuations listed

above can be immediately experienced by the

recreational user. In looking over some more

recent attempts to summarize the values of

wilderness, the non-recreational values stand

out even more, and a number of additional

valuations are proffered. Some are new, and

some are further variations on older themes.

They are:

(1) The value of wilderness in

maintaining life-support systems (i.e.,

geophysical systems, such as watershed

function and reduced CO, production)(Rolston

1985);

(2) Wilderness as a key component of a

system of “regions of biotic freedom” where

natural processes have a right to continue; here

the change is from man’s duty to nature to

nature’s rights (McCabe 1971);

(3) Wilderness as a hedge against future

imponderables in the need to protect the

biosphere (the concerns that we cannot afford

to lose any more and that “they are not making

any more”);

(4) Wilderness as a place of scientific

study; it is now identified as the uniquely

qualified place to study evolution to determine

how important competition between species

may be (Ralston 1985);

(5) Wilderness as a place to build

character, especially with youth, as in Outward

Bound programs;

(6) Esthetics benefits, now getting more

emphasis, even among recreational users, than

the rewards from sports such as

mountaineering and river-running.

From this review of the reasons

wilderness is valued, the recreational

experience can be viewed more as the occasion

for reinforcing all of the intellectual reasons for

valuing wilderness (e.g., historical, cultural,

ethical, religious, political, literary, scientific,

educational, and esthetics). The term

“recreation” does not begin to capture the

richness of the intellectual valuations. As

nature is hard pressed on more and more of

the land on this continent, and indeed on the

planet (McCloskey 1987); the sense of

desperation which many feel about the need to

maintain a balance between development and

nature becomes focused on the effort to protect

more wilderness. Wilderness has come to

embody the culture of more and more educated

professionals in our society and is the object

on which they project their hopes for a better

outcome in the struggles over the environment.

It is the one place, they believe, “we haven’t

spoiled . . . where we can start over.”

Thus, the demand for more wilderness to

be preserved has very little to do with trends

in recreational use of wilderness areas. As

long as there is a sense that the condition of

the environmen is getting worse rather than

better, the pressures for more wilderness will

continue. Wilderness is an expression of a

dominant cultural imperative among many

well-educated, urban professionals. This

culture is not likely to change soon.

The members of Congress who represent

these people will continue to press for the

protection of more wilderness. Even their

constituents who do not care about wilderness

have no opposing interests and thus do not

shape the outcome. With the population now

largely urban, there is no prospect that rural

legislators will ever dominate the process again

(though they may have temporary successes in

blocking the addition of certain units to the

system).

Public Opinion

Empirical evidence for the demand for

wilderness protection can be found in public

opinion surveys. Feelings underlying the

demand for more wilderness can be seen in the

results of surveys that measure public concern

over stresses affecting nature and the

40
I

environment. The responses to three questions

asked in recent years are particularly revealing.

Because some other queries of a more general

nature show incredibly high levels of public

concern, these questions posed tougher

tradeoffs or called for more discriminating

responses.

In a question asked annually from 1976

through 1986, the public was asked to choose

between two contrasting propositions: (1) We

must be prepated to sacrifice environmental

quality for economic growth, and (2) we must

sacrifice economic growth in order to preserve

and protect the environment. In 1976, 38

percent of the public called for sacrificing

economic growth; by 1987, that figure had

climbed to 66 percent -- a 28-point increase.

In contrast, only 19 percent called for

sacrificing environmental quality in 1987,

while the figure in 1976 was 21 percent

(Dunlap 1987) By a nearly 3 to 1 margin, the

public --and now a majority of it--favors

sacrificing economic growth over the

environment if forced to make a choice.

In the 1980’s, another question forced

even harder choices. Those polled were asked

whether or not they agreed with the following

proposition: Protecting the environment is so

important that requirements and standards

cannot be too high, and continuing

environmental improvements must be made

regardless of the cost. In 1981, 45 percent

agreed, while 42 percent disagreed; by 1986

the margin had shifted so that 66 percent

agreed, while only 27 percent disagreed. Now

there was more than a 2 to 1 margin for an

extremely strong proposition (Dunlap 1987).

That these results were not a fluke can be

seen in another survey which asked if

respondents “think there is too much, too little,

or about the right amount of governmental

regulation and involvement in the area of

environmental protection.” In 1982, 35 percent

said there was too little; by 1986 those

believing there was too little had grown to 59

percent. Those responding “too much” shrunk

from 41 percent in 1982 to 26 percent in 1986

--again a 2 to 1 margin for the environmental

position (Dunlap 1987).

Through the years, fewer questions have

been asked directly about attitudes toward

41

wilderness at the national level. However, one

study was done for the Western Regional

Council in 1978 by the fii of Yankelovich,

Skelly, and White. It found that 82 percent of

those surveyed “feel the government has a

responsibility to protect large areas of land for

wilderness and related environmental values”

(Yankelovitch 1978)).

The preceding year the American Forest

Institute commissioned a special survey to help

guide its public affairs strategy. It posed a

question relevant to the trdeoff between

having commercial timber available for logging

versus wilderness. Those surveyed were asked

to choose between two alternatives: ‘I. . .

increase the yield and sales of timber from

National Forests, or . . . preserve these trees in

their natural state.” Sixty-two percent of the

public called for preservation, while only 28

percent called for an increase in timber sales.

Again, the public made the environmental

choice by a 2 to 1 margin. In that same

survey, other questions asked revealed that

only 7 percent of the public felt there was “too

much” wilderness. Those making the survey

for the Institute concluded by saying: “It is

obvious that opposing wilderness or other set

asides on the basis of lost timber growing

potential has no appeal to the public”

(American Forest Institute 1977).

It is usually assumed that those residing

in the localities near wilderness oppose its

protection. However, a recent study by

Gundars Rudzitis contradicts this view.

Finding that the 227 counties containing

wilderness in the United States are

experiencing more rapid growth than other

areas, he interviewed a cross-section of

residents in four typical counties of this sort.

He found that among those who had moved

there in the past decade, “environmental

quality, pace of life, amenity, and the

recreational factors are most often cited as

reasons why they moved to these counties.

The presence of wilderness is an important

reason why they moved . . . and both migrants

and residents feel strongly about protecting

wilderness areas from any development”

(Rudzitis 1987).
Competing Forces

The decisions that Congress makes on

wilderness reflect not only public opinion but

the relative strength of the forces which lobby

for and against wilderness reservations. Over

the past decade, environmental groups have

been growing in size and strength. Both the

Sierra Club and The Wilderness Society have

doubled in size,. and other environmental

groups that participate in wilderness lobbying

have been growing too (Dunlap 1987).

Moreover, public confidence in

environmentalists is high. One survey showed

them near the top of groups commanding

respect in American society. Oil companies

were near the bottom of the list. The survey

found that environmentalists were “seven times

as popular as the major oil companies”

(Democratic National Committee 1982).

In the past few years, almost all industries

devoted to development of natural resources

have fallen on hard times. With the drop in

oil prices, the oil industry is in a depression,

with drilling activity down by 75 percent

(Famey 1987). Even if it revives somewhat, its

focus is likely to be primarily on private lands

since 88 percent of the producible oil and gas

is thought likely to be found there. In any

event, over 100 million acres of Federal land

have already been leased for oil and gas

development (Wilderness Society 1982). The

uranium industry is near collapse, being unable

to compete with higher grade foreign ores

(Famey 1987). The Western coal industry also

is facing bleak times as demand has not grown

as was forecast and prices are half of what

they were a decade ago (Famey 1987). The

domestic hardrock mining industry is also

fading away, with the U.S. copper industry’s

market share only half of what it was in 1970

Farney 1987). Only gold mining is showing

much strength.

The timber industry is still recovering

from its depression of 1982, and is absorbing

the lesson of having to give back sales on

which it overbid. The market could not support

the prices it paid in the late 1970’s. The

shakeout in this industry has reduced its budget

for government affairs and the number of

lobbyists it fields. In the meantime, many

National Forest managers are trying to reduce

allowable cuts in light of environmental factors

(including wilderness needs) as forest planning

struggles forward. Ultimately, all involved will

be mindful of the fact that 80 percent of the

commercial forest land in the country is in

private hands. Wilderness-type areas on public

lands are generally the least promising areas on

which to grow timber.

The grazing industry has also experienced

declining fortunes. Sheep numbers today are

less than one-third of what they were in 1960.

Cattle numbers have declined too, and again

deciders of public policy will recognize that 86

percent of the livestock production comes from

private lands (Wyant 1982).

Finally, one should note what has

happened under provisions of the Wilderness

Act that made concessions to commodity

interests. These provisions reflected concern at

the time that the claims of commodity interests

might have had more merit than was initially

apparent. Twenty more years was allowed to

file mining claims in wilderness. This period

came and went with no major discoveries

announced, and there was no successful effort

to extend the dispensation. The U.S.

Geological Survey was asked to study potential

wilderness areas to identify important mineral

potential; it found such potential in only 8

percent of the areas it studied. The President

was granted authority to permit water projects

to be developed in wilderness if he found an

overriding national need. He never has. Preexisting grazing permittees were allowed to

continue, but the number of such permittees

has declined.

The Record

. In response to public opinion and the

interplay of forces, the Congress has in fact

increased the size of the Wilderness System

from about 9 million acres in 1964 to nearly

90 million acres today (a tenfold increase).

Reserved areas are found in 44 States and 9

States have their own systems (President’s

Commission 1987). It is not difficult to foresee

the system growing to include as many as 150

million acres (about 8 percent of the nation’s

land, including Alaska) and some suggest it

should grow to include nearly 300 million

acres (Flamm 1988).

42
Table 1. -- Wilderness Legislation and USDA Positions’

Year FS recommendation Congress’s increase % increase

1981 no action

1982 10,010 acres

1983 340,068 acres

1984 4503,045 acres

1985 3,260 acres

Average increases:

l USDA Forest Service

2,943 a&G +ziJ.O%

25,506 acres +7.0%

2,006,936 acres +44.0%

0 acres 0

+41.8%

The demand is certainly there, and the

Congress has shown a general willingness to

add more to the system than administering

agencies recommend. They are more

conservative than the Congress in judging what

is politically viable and good public policy. I

recall that one study of the 1970’s found that

Congress on the average increased the size of

units added to the system by 25 percent above

what the agencies recommended. Data from

the first half of the 1980’s show that the

margin for the National Forests has jumped to

nearly 42 percent (table 1) (USDA Forest

Service).

Research is needed to put the whole

record since 1964 together by agencies.

Figures should be obtained on the original

agency recommendation for each unit, showing

the acreage put in the system by Congress and

the relative increase or decrease. The figures

should be organized by the years in which

Congressional decisions were made. This

information could be organized by States and

Regions also to show trends in handling

wilderness questions. It would be interesting

also to examine trends in the number of units

added to the system enjoying local

Congressional sponsorship. This information

could shed light on the changing popularity of

wilderness in the districts hosting the units.

This area of research could play an important

part in helping the Forest Service develop an

accurate appraisal of the political viability of

proposing larger areas for wilderness in the

Federal electoral jurisdiction closest to its

operations.

CONCLUSIONS

This paper suggests a series of inquiries

which could be pursued in greater depth to

assist agencies administering wilderness, such

as the USDA Forest Service, to develop

strategies to guide the process of making

recommendations on wilderness reservations in

the future.

While the inquiries pursued here are

limited, they clearly suggest continuing public

demand for wilderness as a reflection of

cultural and social preferences, and that

Congress is likely to ratify those preferences

by continuing to add acreage to the National

Wilderness Preservation System.

Each decision that Congress makes is

evidence of the value that American society

places on having such areas preserved. The

fact that none of these decisions has been

reversed later or even revisited suggests a high

degree of social consensus about the values of

adding areas to the wilderness system. The

strong demand and absence of any backlash

suggests that the process of enlarging the

system will continue and that a.rbitrariIy halting

this process is not a social option.

43
REFERENCES

American Forest Institute. 1977. Public

participation in outdoor activities and

attitudes toward wildemess.Research

Recap 10.

Chichetti, Charles J.; Smith, Kerry V. 1973.

Congestion, quality eterioration and

optimal use. Social Science Research 2 (1)

Democratic National Committee. 1982.

Memorandum re: national survey on

environmental issues; February 24, 1982.

p.8.

Dunlap, Riley E. 1987. Public opinion on the

environment&r the Reagan era.

Environment 29: 11, 32, 33, 35.

Farney, Dennis. 1987. Western gloom:

resources-rich basin finds its treasures

don’t bring prosperity. Wall Street Journal,

October 28, 1987.

Flamm, Barry. 1988. The future wilderness

system. In: Proceeedings of the 1988

National Wilderness Colloquium; 1988

January; Tampa, Florida.

Hendee, John; Stankey, George. 1973.

Biocentricity in wilderness management.

Bioscience(September): 535.

President’s Commission on American’s

Outdoors. 1987. Americans outdoors, the

legacy, the challenge. Washington: Island

Press. 420 p.

USDA Forest Service, Legislative Affairs.

Wilderness legislation and USDA

positions (undated mimeographed chart).

McCabe, John M. 197 1. A wilderness primer.

Montana Law Review 32:43.

McCloskey, Michael. 1966. The wilderness act

of 1964: its background and meaning.

Oregon Law Review 45: 288-321.

McCloskey, Michael. 1987. The world

wilderness inventory. InProceedings of

the Fourth World Wilderness Congress;

1987 September.

Rolston, Holmes III.1985. Valuing wildlands.

Environmental Ethics. (7):31-38.

Rudzitis, Gundar. 1987. How important is

wilderness: attitudes of migrants and

residents in wilderness counties.

Unpublished research paper, University of

Idaho, September.

Schabecoff, Philip. 1986. Survey finds outdoor

U.S. that wants nature areas kept. New

York Times, April 23, 1986.

Wilderness Society. 1982. Potentially

producible petroleum and natural gas in

the U.S. and western overthrust

belt.February (revised in January 1983).

Wyant, William K. 1982. Westward in eden,

Berkely:University of California Press.

Chapter 12.

Yankelovich, Skelly, White. 1978.

Memorandum to the Western Regional

Council dated September 27, 1978, p. 52.

44
COMPATIBLE AND INCOMPATIBLE

INTERACTIONS BETW EEN RECREATIONAL

AND NON-RECREATIONAL

USE OF W ILDERNESS

Joyce M . Ke lly*

ABSTRACT

Th e non- recreational aspects of

w ild e rness are an elem ent central to th e ve ry

concept of w ildness, but one th at is all too

often ove rlook ed and ignore d .

-.

I N T RODU CTI O N

Federal lands managed by the Forest

Service, National Park Service, Bureau of Land

Management (BLM), and Fish & Wildlife

Service provide the widest possible

opportunities for dispersed recreation. Nowhere

is this more true than in wilderness areas,

which are oriented to primitive recreation and

the virtues of solitude. Because these areas

provide recreation that allows the user a high

degree of freedom of choice, the potential for

impact or incompatible interaction is high.

Can the recreationist and nature coexist

harmoniously in the wilderness? Yes. To do

so means first articulating the values

(recreational and non-recreational) for which

the area was set aside and then defining

recreation use in the context of protecting those

values. Without the frrst step, compatibility

determinations become extremely haphazard, if

they occur at all.

That in essence is the focus of my

presentation. To assess how recreation and

non-recreation values were managed in

wilderness, 1 randomly selected six wilderness

areas based on geographic diversity and high

recreation use: four are USDA Forest Service

areas: Dolly Sods, W. Va., Monongahela

National Forest; Sandia, NM, Cibola National

Forest; Boundary Waters Canoe Area, MN,

Superior National Forest; Yellowstone

Ecosystem, WY and MT. (includes Bridger,

Teton, Absaroka National Forests; two ate

BLM areas: Table Rock, OR: Paria-Vermillion

Cliffs, AZ.

To determine what the wilderness values

were and what management actions were

proposed and implemented to preserve the

wilderness character, I looked at the legislation

establishing the area as wilderness, the

testimony and background documentation in

support of designation (values), and finally, the

management plan for the area. What I found

wasn’t encouraging. Most wilderness

management plans are so generic as to be

virtually useless.

It is a rare to find any recognition of the

wilderness areas’ special values. Without this

information, I maintain the compatibility

question cannot truly be answered.

Before discussing my “findings” for each

of these wilderness areas, let me set the stage

by briefing addressing the meaning of

wilderness, the tendency to overemphasize

recreation values in wilderness, and the

importance of the, wilderness management plan

in defining the values of an area.

SETTING TH E STAGE - TH E MEANING

OF W ILDERNESS

Let’s back up a moment and examine the

meaning of wilderness and how recreation fits.

As one colleague of mine in the Forest Service

stated: “Wilderness is clearly a place where a

recreational experience can be found, but

wilderness is not a recreational area.”

Wilderness has always been intended to

be more than a place for recreation. In Aldo

* Executive Director of W ildlife H abitat Enh ancemen t Council, W ash ington, D C

45
Leopold’s land ethic, wilderness was “a model

of ecological perfection. Unmodified, wild

country assumed significance as ‘a base-datum

of normality, a picture of how healthy land

maintains itself as an organism”‘(Nash 1967).

He stated that recreation was not the only or

even the principal utility of wilderness (Nash

1967). Bob Marshall stressed the psychological

and esthetic importance of wilderness. Sigurd

Olson wrote of the scenic beauty and the

wildlife associated with the great silences of

land lying Northwest of Lake Superior (Olson

1982). The Wilderness Society was formed in

1935 “for the purpose of fighting off the

invasion of the wilderness and of

stimulating...an appreciation of its multiform

emotional, intellectual, and scientific values

(Nash 1967). ._

It is clear from the Wilderness Act’ itself

that recreation is but one value in the

wilderness setting. Wilderness implies an

absence of civilization. Man is but “a visitor”.

“Wilderness values are so fragile that even

appropriate kinds of recreational use detract

from, and in sufficient quantity, destroy

wilderness.” Using the area for recreation must

be done on wilderness’ terms (Nash 1967). If

we are to define what constitutes compatible

and incompatible interactions between the

nature and our recreational use of it, we must

first describe the values (or character) of the

wilderness area. If we are to maintain the

wilderness character (where man is but a

visitor). then there is greater need for

specificity in the definition of uses and the

management prescription than may be the case

for other dispersed outdoor recreation uses on

public lands. Until the character and important

values of the area have been defined with their

locations, I maintain, you cannot determine

whether coexistence is possible.

THE RECREATION “TRAP”

We are finally beginning to realize that

wilderness provides a unique opportunity to

protect communities of species, total food

chains and ecosystems, in addition to geologic,

esthetic, historic and psychological values. Yet

we continue to place a singular value on

recreational use of wilderness. In most forest

plans any specificity accorded the wilderness

area will generally be stated in terms of

recreation visitor days only. It is a rare plan

that will contain a discrete listing of the

wilderness values with appropriate locations.

Why is it that we have placed so much

value on recreational use of wilderness, or

what I call the recreation “trap”? First, it’s

more difficult to define non-recreation values.

The concepts, as well as the inventory

methods, are in still in the developmental

phase. Second, existing recreation use patterns

by and large dictate the nature of management,

to the extent the wilderness is managed at all.

It’s simply much easier to use recreation (a

definable use) to justify management action

which is basically responsive to an existing

use. Third, training programs which focus on

developing understanding and awareness of

non-recreational values for wilderness managers

have been minimal at best. Hence managers

attitudes will most likely be attune to the status

quo and past practices - recreational use.

Fourth, much of the use of a wilderness area is

for its recreational values - the enjoyment of

solitude, physical and spiritual renewal.

The recreation “trap” has always been

there. Nash states that in 1918 new ideas

about the nonmaterial values of the National

Forests were beginning to challenge the

traditional utilitarian objectives of foresters.

The National Park Service was attracting

considerable attention to parks as recreation

meccas for the newly motorized public, The

Forest Service, fearful of losing land, countered

by giving unprecedented publicity to scenery

and outdoor recreation as major “products” and

commissioned a study of the forests’

recreational potential (Nash 1967). In 1938

Leopold expressed concern about the recreation

development focus in wilderness areas. We

have yet to commission a study of nonrecreation values or even require individual

forests to do so.

I shudder to hear Mike McCloskey

define wilderness for purposes of the

international inventory as an area through

which you can hike for two weeks without

ever crossing your tracks (McCloskey 1989).

It’s a definition focused purely and simply on a

primitive recreational experience and accounts

for none of the other values which a

wilderness area holds. It restates Leopold’s

early definition but loses sight of Leopold’s

own evolution toward a broader ecological

perspective of wilderness. Let us not deviate

46
from the definition in the Wilderness Act. It is

a more than satisfactory definition and

continues to serve us well.

The manager’s attitude is also a critical

factor, not to be overlooked. The perception of

incompatible recreation impacts is influenced

by the manager’s possessive interest in the land

he manages, his resource management training

and experiences, the historic role of protection

responsibilities, and the mandate to provide a

wide spectmm of recreation opportunities

(Bauscher 1981). In the case of the Forest

Service the timber management experience

influences what will be viewed as an impact or

an incompatible use. In the case of BLM, it

will be grazing, minerals and land adjustment

experience. 7.

Bob Lucas reminds us: “The tension

between recreation and regulation is intensified

in wilderness management. The Act defines

wilderness as an area that provides ‘outstanding

opportunities for solitude or a primitive and

unconfined type of recreation’. The Act also

requires managers to protect and manage

wilderness ‘so as to preserve its natural

conditions ’- an almost impossible mandate if

uncontrolled recreational use is allowed”

(Lucas 1983). Yet how often do agencies

attempt to control recreation use?

The results of a recent telephone survey

(Reed and others 1989) reveal startling

information, if our goal is to preserve

wilderness values. Only 39 per cent of those

interviewed had a completed and approved

wilderness management plan. Only 39 per

cent were conducting any environmental

research studies (determining baseline data).

The remainder were not, and had not done so

for the past three years, Only 14 percent were

doing studies on use. Further, 70 percent did

not have standards below which changes would

be unacceptable.

Based on general correspondence in the

wilderness files that I reviewed plus the survey

results above, I maintain that incompatible

interactions between recreational and nonrecreational values occur all too often with

little remedial action or mitigation, Why?

Because the wilderness values or the

acceptable limits of change for the area have

never been determined. They are, in fact,

generally ignored. Without an examination of

the relationship between the wilderness area’s

values and the objectives of current

management, it will be extremely difficult to

define appropriate mitigation measures,

educational programs and management

techniques. So the standard for managing

recreational use is to t it until there is some

destruction of the resource, then apply a bandaid.

I am not suggesting that we ignore the

recreation as a value. In fact recreation may

rank high in the list of values for which the

area was added to the wilderness system. My

concern is that the majority of the wilderness

management plans, to the extent they exist,

focus exclusively on existing patterns of

recreation use and fail to account for and

manage for all the values for which the area

was established.

How well are the Forest Service and

BLM doing in terms of ensuring compatible

interactions to the maximum extent possible?

The clue to how agencies view wilderness

values in the areas under their jurisdiction can

be found in policy statements, forest plans, the

management implementation schedules or

management plans, and in the attitude of the

local manager.

THE WILDERNESS MANAGEMENT

PLAN

In the new forest planning process with a

consolidated forest plan, that document alone

may contain the only management plan for the

wilderness area. There may not be any

additional prescriptions; if there are, they am at

the discretion of the manager.

In the Forest Service wilderness

management handbook, approved September

1986, the 6th wilderness principle states:

“Management should be guided by objectives

established in Forest Plans.” There is no

requirement to prepare a specific management

plan for the area, nor to inventory or ask for

public input if a separate management

document is prepared, The handbook

recognizes that the basic purpose of a

wilderness management plan is to give a clear

picture of what the wilderness should look like

47
in the future, what management actions are

necessary to achieve this, and how the

wilderness management strategy deals with the

relationship between all wilderness

resources/values. The handbook does not

focus too much on developing isolated

management strategies for individual uses and

resources. The key elements in the handbook

include recreation (2/3 of the text), range, fish

and wildlife, vegetation, and minerals.

The BLM Wilderness Management

Policy, issued in 1984, requires completion of

a management plan within two years following

designation of an area as wilderness. I believe

that requirement is a critical element in the

pTc7tection and preservation of wilderness

values. The plan-itself, based on the old Forest

Service MB0 model (which the Forest Service

no longer uses), requires a statement of

objectives, a description of the current

sih?ation, and specific management actions with

a schedule. This is accompanied by an

environmental assessment with a “no action”, a

resource protection alternative, and a recreation

development and use alternative.

Let’s turn to the six wilderness areas to

see how the policy guidance is interpreted.

1. Dolly Sods, West Virginia, a

wilderness area of 10,215 acres, was

established by P.L. 93-622, commonly referred

to as the Eastern Wilderness Act, in 1975. It is

a high, wind-swept plain offering unique

vegetation, climate and animal life comparable

to what might be found in parts of Canada

with outstanding opportunities for nature study.

The 1975 Wilderness Act Statement of

Findings addressed the need for areas in the

East that are managed to promote and

perpetuate the wilderness character of the land

and its specific values of solitude, physical and

mental challenge, scientific study, inspiration

and primitive recreation. While Dolly Sods

shares all these values, because of its unusual

ecosystem, it has particularly high scientific

values.

The Monongahela National Forest Plan

was disappointing in its coverage of the

wilderness area, but not unique. First, as a

member of the public and one familiar with

bureaucratic documents, I had some difficulty

locating the section dealing with Dolly Sods

wilderness. With the exception of the RVD

(Recreation Visitor Day) numbers listed for

each of the 5 wilderness areas within

Monongahela, the management prescription

was so generic that it would be applicable to

most wilderness areas around the country.

There was no mention of the unique natural

values which both Cranberry and Dolly Sods

share and which need to be protected. The plan

simply says “Allow recreation use consistent

with protection of the wilderness attributes.”

Materials developed in 1969 by an Ad

Hoc Committee on Dolly Sods, recommending

the area’s designation as wilderness, highlight

the scenic and ecological values of the area

and the need to protect and enhance these

values. The 1969 public comment discussed

the need to preserve wildlife habitat and

maintain low interaction among users, the need

for an expanded trail system, better signing and

more recreation information. None of these

were addressed in the forest plan.

In discussions with the staff on the

Monongahela Forest, 1 found that no inventory

of natural values exists. Fortunately, the

existing recreational use pattern lies outside

what is considered the unique tundra-like

ecosystem area. But this is accidental and not

planned, the result of existing use patterns.

The Forest anticipates initiating a LAC

(Limits of Acceptable Change) framework

study in 1988 which should provide better

definition of the important values of the area

and hence help define what may constitute

incompatible use. As a result of a monitoring

study completed this year, the Forest intends to

conduct an assessment of what the recreational

user expects. The LAC framework study is not

mandated. The potential for incompatibility is

high until the LAC is completed and

appropriate management actions are in place.

2. BWCA (Boundary Waters Canoe

Wilderness Area), Minnesota, in Superior

National Forest was established as a full

wilderness by P.L. 95-495 in 1978. The

BWCA, an area with which I am personally

familiar, has been studied more intensively in

terms of visitor use/carrying capacity than any

other wilderness area. The wilderness values

cited in the Congressional Record include: the

only lakeland canoe wilderness, a historic

48
portaging area, a remnant forest of “old

Northwoods”, wildlife (wolves are found in the

BWCA) and intact ecosystems. A 1981 Forest

Service briefing paper on the designated

wilderness gives priority to the non-recreational

values, stating that “management emphasis is

on the protection and perpetuation of the

wilderness resource while allowing use and

enjoyment by the people.”

Because of intensive use (it is the most

heavily used wilderness), the need for a

management plan manifested itself well before

the consolidated forest plan process was

adopted. The 1974 plan, which superseded an

earlier version, has an updated 1981

supplement. Thus, the BWCA benefits from a

fairly detailed management action plan

identifying the critical values that need

protection and how they will be addressed. It

is a precursor of the format used by BLM.

The management plan identifies various

elements: soil quality, water quality, vegetation,

fish, wildlife, wilderness, sensory, recreational

experiences. For each element there is a

description of the existing situation, a statement

of assumptions, management direction, and

policies. The level of detail is still general

enough to allow the manager sufficient

flexibility in implementation. Most important,

there is sufficient knowledge of the resources

values to enable prescriptions to protect those

values and to reduce the likelihood of

incompatible interactions.

In the House Committee hearings on the

BWCA, Congressman Sebelius, Kansas,

recommended to the Forest Service that it

“strengthen its commitment to make stronger

application of this (refers to all research on

use, attitudes, impacts) work to the

management of the area and to other

wilderness areas across the Nation. Of

absolutely critical importance is the

development and implementation of wilderness

carrying capacity thresholds and controls. It is

one thing to initially designate a wilderness,

but safeguarding its integrity in perpetuity does

not stop there. It is essential that appropriate

user limitations are recognized and adhered to

so that the wilderness qualities for which the

area was established are perpetuated

indefinitely for the sake of many generations of

users to come.” Sadly, that advice has gone

begging in all but a few areas, such as the

BWCA.

By managing entry via each portal, the

Forest Service has made a serious effort to

maintain solitude and other wilderness

opportunities while limiting the sense of

regulation in the BWCA. There are wilderness

purists who would argue that such regulation,

trail construction and maintenance, fireplace

grates, and primitive privies are incompatible

with the wilderness resource values. 1 c&agree

with that argument and maintain that thGse

facilities are necessary to protect the resource

and reduce incompatible interactions. The

mitigation plan for the BWCA provides solid

statements for why these “regulations and

facilities” are necessary. In my opinion the

management of the BWCA is unmatched

anywhere in the system. It is a model which

should be widely emulated.

The recreation mitigation plan calls for

designating campsites and controlling users in

order to safeguard water quality and soil and to

keep campsites away from known raptor and

loon nesting sites. The water component of

the management plan assumes that “water

sensitivity to nutrient inputs will be a primary

factor in developing recreation use capacity

guides.” The related policy calls for locating

and constructing needed sanitary facilities so as

to minimize pollution and contamination of

surface and ground water, and monitoring and

testing water quality on lakes and streams to

detect changes caused by recreation use; this

helps to determine visitor carrying capacity.

While this is hardly overly detailed or

constraining to the manager, it is sufficient to

indicate how the area will be managed to

protect the resource, as well as the user.

which

In summary, this is a management plan

should serve as a model for other Forest

Service wilderness areas. The only other Forest

Service area I reviewed with a comparable

management plan was Sandia, in New

Mexico’s Cibola National Forest. It is a new

plan, effective 1987.

3. Sandia was designated as wilderness

by P.L. 95-237, the Endangered American

Wilderness Act of 1978. Its inclusion in the

wilderness system was in large part due to a

concern that the Forest Service might allow

49
logging in the area. In testimony supporting

designation, the values cited included the

importance of the area as a scenic backdrop to

Albuquerque, recreational values for a major

metropolitan area, and watershed. Recreational

use ranked high as a value. Each year the La

Luz Run, an annual competitive event that

predates the wilderness designation, takes place

in the Sandia Wilderness. The La Luz Run is

clearly a recreational experience, but most

likely not a wilderness experience. In fact, it

may web be an incompatible recreation use.

Section 1 of P.L. 95-237, states: “These

and other undeveloped national forest lands

exhibiting wilderness values are immediately

threatened by pressures of a growing and more

mobile population, large-scale industrial and

economic growth and development and uses

inconsistent with protection, maintenance,

restoration and enhancement of their wilderness

characteristics.” Hence there is an

acknowledgment of the strong potential for

incompatible and conflicting uses in these areas

so close to urban centers,

The House committee report provides a

further clue to the values of this particular

wilderness. That report states that the

Committee expects the Forest Service to

maximize efforts to construct, maintain, and

improve trails and the trail system so as to

facilitate access and recreational use, as well as

to increase opportunities for high quality

wilderness experience for the visiting public.

The Committee report goes on to state that

Sandia is an important addition to the

wilderness system because it is readily

accessible to residents and visitors of a large

metropolitan area, and because recreation use is

on the increase. Urban sights and sounds

heighten the public’s awareness and

appreciation of areas with outstanding

wilderness values.

Without delving further in the legislative

history, one could reasonably argue that the La

Luz Run is a compatible use of the Sandia

wilderness given the strong emphasis on

recreation values for the Albuquerque public in

the legislative history.

4. The Yellowstone ecosystem includes

Yellowstone National Park and a number of

nearby wilderness areas including Teton,

Absaroka, Washakie, and Lee Metcalf; these

were early designations to the wilderness

system. The values cited in the original

wilderness designation files include big game

and other wildlife, unique geologic features,

spectacular mountain vistas, varied topography,

and historic fur trails.

The Yellowstone ecosystem area is one

of the largest assemblages of wilderness

acreage in the lower 48 States. Is it managed

in a unified way to enhance those values,

which were identified well before there was a

Wilderness Act? No! Only belatedly have

areas been closed to recreational use to protect

the grizzly - the consummate incompatible

recreation/non-recreation interaction. Even so,

the grizzly usually loses in a confrontation

with man. Management of this system is

dictated largely by existing recreation use

patterns and by the outfitter and guide industry.

A comprehensive wilderness management plan

does not exist for the area.

In a frrst step toward meaningful

management coordination, the involved Federal

agencies have recently completed an

Assessment of the Ecosystem. With respect to

management of the wilderness, the Assessment

points out only that the primitive character of

the area will be maintained, but this is

nowhere defined. It states that the

opportunities for managers am: (1) to provide

for quality wilderness experience for an

increasing number of users; (2) to ensure

visitor use does not adversely affect the

wilderness resource (undefined); (3) to ensure

rules for visitors are reasonably consistent from

one area to another.

The Assessment is, according to one of

its architects, simply an aggregation of

information, a snapshot of what’s there. There

is no analysis, no determination of what is

compatible and what is in conflict. Setting the

values has not been done. At this juncture

there has been no determination of what the

ecosystem should look like and what uses, and

where, are compatible with that vision. We

should applaud the desire and intent to move

to that stage of analysis; but we must also

lament our failure in waiting so long.

That is not to say that no baseline data

exists. Yellowstone Park benefits from the

50
efforts of some 150 independent researchers

each year. The Grizzly Bear Cumulative

Effects Analysis for the Greater Yellowstone

area is now 90 percent operational.

Information on other “heroic wildlife” species

also exists. The Grizzly Analysis has brought

requests from the public for similar information

on other species. The information data base is,

however, highly variable and developed as a

reaction to recreation overuse and misuse and

the needs of independent researchers.

According to one of the key Federal

managers in this area, when baseline data

exists, it is much easier to dictate a proactive

agenda that protects the wilderness resource

values, rather than waiting to develop a

reactive agenda in response to a crisis.

Hopefully, the Federal agencies responsible for

managing the Yellowstone ecosystem will

quickly move beyond the Assessment and

develop the proactive agenda. There is,

unfortunately, no timetable that requires them

to do that.

Let us turn now to BLM, currently the

only land-managing agency offering specific

guidance on how to develop a management

plan for wilderness and requiring that it be

done. For those unfamiliar with BLM, the

agency is truly in its infancy with respect to

the wilderness designation and management

process. Hence, only a few examples of

wilderness management plans exist. The Table

Rock Wilderness Management Plan may be

considered the best example of a BLM

wilderness management plan at this time

because it covers all the values of the area,

contains considerable public input, and sets

specific objectives and management actions.

5. Table Rock, Oregon, wilderness was

established by P.L. 98-328, the Oregon

Wilderness Act, in 1984. The Act cites the

outstanding natural characteristics of the area.

The Senate Committee report comments that

Table Rock represents an ecologically intact

island with rare and endangered plants and

wildlife.

LAC standards were to be established for

each element by September 1986. AM U~

monitoring of water, soil, vegetation, fish and

wildlife elements, as well as recreation, is done

to “detect changes before unacceptable

conditions requiring remedial work are

reached.” The LAC standard setting is in

process, but not completed.

6. The Arizona Wilderness bill, P.L.

98-406, added Paria Canyon -Vermillion Cliffs

Wilderness to the system. Values cited for

Paria in the legislative history include the

unique red slickrock canyon, opportunities for

hiking and other primitive recreation; and for

Vermillion, scenic, wildlife, and archeological

values were noted. Both areas have special

geologic and plant community values.

A management plan was completed for

Paria-Vermillion that has been criticized by the

Wilderness Society for: (1) failing to specify

what LAC field studies will be initiated for

which resources and when, and (2) developing

isolated, rather than integrated, management

strategies. This is an example of a plan which

may have met the requirements of the BLM

policy but where management commitment at

the upper levels was missing to ensure

implementation. This comment is made based

on my personal knowledge as Director of the

BLM wilderness effort for 4 years. The

commitment exists at the field working level, it

is not supported by management.

CONCLUSION

In summary, of the six plans, only two

Forest Service wilderness areas, BWCA and

Sandia, had detailed wilderness management

plans which provided a baseline against which

one could determine compatibility of values.

Both BLM areas had detailed wilderness area

plans, but in one the commitment may be

missing to implement it effectively. The Dolly

Sods qualified as having a management plan

under the rubric of the Forest Plan, but it was

so generic as to be virtually useless. The same

applies to the wilderness areas of the

Yellowstone ecosystem.

A policy statement supporting the

development of a wilderness management plan

is a critical first step. However, without a

specific mandated deadline for completion of

the plan the policy is all too often ignored

following designation of an area. Existing use

patterns often dictate management to the extent

it exists at all. The requirement to complete a

51
wilderness management plan within a specified

timeframe, however, forces the manager to

identify and articulate the values for which the

area was included in the system, and to

manage for those values. There should be

provision for monitoring to ensure management

is successful. The plan provides a tool for the

public to use to ensure the manager is carrying

out his wilderness management mandate

responsibly .

The key to a successful plan are the

identification of wilderness values (including

those unique to that area), integration of the

elements into the action plan, and an

implementation schedule. As noted earlier,

Bob Lucas has pointed out that the tension

between recreation and regulation is intensified

in wilderness management. Thus, it is critical

to control recreation use with as little

regulation and as much education as possible if

one is to enhance the wilderness experience,

preserve wilderness values and ensure

harmonious coexistence. This also means that

personnel must be available to implement the

plan and do requited monitoring. Otherwise,

incompatibility and conflict are inevitable.

According to Dave Porter, BLM’s

Wilderness Management expert, all BLM

wilderness management plans to date recognize

there are other reasons for managing

wilderness besides recreation use. This results

from the wilderness specialists, involved public

and some managers recognizing that most

BLM wilderness areas are not just “recreation

play areas”. The plans recognize this, but only

time will tell if actual management practices

also reflect this insight. Because BLM has

lands “where people are not”, the agency has

an opportunity to demonstrate excellent

management of the non-recreational wilderness

resources. Hopefully, it will rise to that

challenge.

Comprehensive wilderness management

plans, and proper implementation, updating and

monitoring of them will begin to assure the

compatibility of all uses and ensure that

recreational activity does not degrade the

wilderness character of the area. This requires

inventorying the area for its values and setting

up a schedule of actions to protect them The

absence of a plan increases the likelihood of

single use (recreation) management dictated by

existing use patterns. Until wilderness

managers become more attune to wilderness

values and the need to ensure their protection,

the plan serves as the only tool the public has

to force managers to protect these values.

Once values are defied, the

compatibility question becomes clearer but no

less challenging to deal with. We are now

faced with the carrying capacity question, and

the problem of defining the limits of acceptable

change (LAC). The carrying capacity concept,

which was never fully utilized throughout the

Forest Service, has been replaced by LAC,

with its emphasis on the conditions desired in

the area rather than on how much use the area

can tolerate.

Completing the LAC framework for each

wilderness area is unfortunately not a

requirement for the Forest Service. It should

be. The guidelines are there, examples of well

defined management plans exist, but the

concern for managing the wilderness resource

is still far from being of paramount

importance.

Until we begin to recognize a wilderness

area’s special values, we will be hard pressed

to answer the compatibility question. The

BLM requirement to do management planning

for each area is commendable. The Forest

Service should follow suit with a requirement

to complete a LAC framework for each

wilderness area. The BWCA management plan

provides an excellent model. To permit a

National Forest to pass muster with a generic

statement “to encourage good things and

discourage bad things”, such as exists for

Dolly Sods, is unfortunate.

Those ardent framers of the Wilderness

System eloquently argued for protection and

preservation of the wilderness resource. The

wilderness resources’ very existence depends on

such protection and preservation; the public

needs it; and future generations deserve it. A

plan defines what needs to be preserved and

how. We can afford to do no less. We will

then be on the way to developing an

environmental ethic that respects all the values

of the wilderness while permitting us to enjoy

its benefits.

52
REFERENCES

Buscher, Richard F. 1981. Wildland

Recreational Impact from the U.S. Forest

Service Land Manager’s perspective.

Recreation Resource Bulletin. Fall

1981:11-12.

Lucas, Robert C. 1983. The role of

regulations in recreation management.

Western Wildlands. (9)2:6.

McCloskey, Michael. 1989. Understanding the

demand for more wilderness. In:

Proceedings of the 1988 National

Wilderness Colloquium; 1988 January;

Tampa, Florida. *.

ENDNOTES

Nash, Roderick. 1967. Wilderness and the

American Mind. New Haven: Yale

University Press.

Olson, Sigurd F. 1982. The Singing

Wilderness. New York: Knopf, p. 5

Reed, Patrick; Haas, Glen; Beum, Frank,

Sherrick, Lois.1989. Non-recreational

uses of the National Wilderness

Preservation System: A 1988 Telephone

Survey. In: Proceedings of the 1988

National Wilderness Colloquium; 1988

January; Tampa, FL.

1. Section 4(b) of th e W ilderness Act (P.L. 88-577) states:” Except as oth erw ise provided in th is

Act, each agency adm in istering any area design ated as w ilderness sh all be responsible for

preserving th e w ilderness ch aracter of th e area and sh all so adm in ister such area for such oth er

purposes for w h ich it m ay h ave been establish ed as also to preserve its w ilderness ch aracter.

Except as oth erw ise provided in th is Act, w ilderness areas sh all be devoted to th e public purposes

of recreational, scenic, scientific, educational, conservation, and h istorical use.

53
TH E FUTURE W ILDERNESS SYSTEM

Barry R. Flam m *

It w ould prom ise us a m ore serene and

confid ent future if at th e start of our sixth

century of residence in Am e rica, w e began to

listen to th e land and h ear w h at it says, and

k now w h at it can and cannot do.

W allace Stegne r (19 81)

INTRODUCTION

Since the end of the 19th century,

various efforts by States and the Federal

Government have led to land designations

providing various degrees of protection to wild

resources. The establishment of Yellowstone

and Yosemite National Parks and New York

State’s Adirondack Park, as well as

administrative primitive and wilderness

designations by the Forest Service, serve as

notable examples.

It was not until after the mid-20th

century, however, that the United States

pronounced an official national policy on

wilderness. Congress enacted legislation--the

Wilderness Act of 1964 (P.L. 88-577)--that

created the National Wilderness Preservation

System.

The Wilderness Act immediately

designated 9.1 million acres of National Forest

land in 54 areas. Previously, these lands were

classified as wilderness, wild, and canoe areas.

The Wilderness Act also directed a

review of 34 National Forest primitive areas,

totaling 5.4 million acres, and roadless lands in

National Parks, monuments, National wildlife

refuges, and game ranges to determine the

suitability of each area for preservation as

wilderness. In 1976, Congress required a like

review--under the Federal Land Policy and

Management Act--on lands administered by the

Bureau of Land Management.

State and local Governments also have

the opportunity to set aside areas of land to be

preserved in their natural state and managed as

wilderness. Nine States have established

wilderness systems within their boundaries

totaling more than 1.7 million acres and at

least five areas (National Areas Journal, 1984).

California, with two areas totaling 97,000

acres, and New York, with 16 areas totaling

approximately one milhon acres, are the only

States that incorporated the Federal standards

for wilderness. Eighteen other States have

passed wilderness legislation or already

contained designated areas that do not meet the

Federal standards but do preserve lands in a

natural condition (RARE II EIS 1979). Soper

and Humke have further described de facto

wilderness systems owned and managed by

States and by private nonprofit organizations

and land trusts. (Soper and Hurt&e, 1988).

At present, the Wilderness Preservation

System includes 88.8 million acres. Nearly

two-thirds of these lands are found in the great

expanses of Alaska; 32.2 million acres are

located in the contiguous 48 States and Hawaii.

Yet despite this commendable commitment to

land preservation for future generations, the

finite wilderness resource on all land

ownerships has decreased in quantity and

quality. During the last 25 years, millions of

acres of wildlands were lost to development in

this country. The quality of wilderness

decreased through pollutants such as acid

deposition and under the impacts of grazing,

mining, and visitation. In addition, profound

ecological changes and perhaps direct effects

on our biota are occurring as tropical forests

around the world are destroyed. Predicted

global climatic changes in the next century--a

direct result of tropical forest liquidation and

air pollution--may be the biggest threat of all.

Americans currently enjoy the benefits of

de facto wilderness from wildlands not yet

roaded and developed. These lands provide

* Ch ief Foreste r, The W ild erness Society, W ash ington, D C.

54
enormous ecological services, such as

watershed and airshed protection, and serve to

enlarge the effective size of protected areas

such as designated wilderness, National Parks,

and wildlife refuges. But these lands will not

long survive in an undeveloped state without

affirmative action. Opportunities for

preserving wilderness values in the United

States are limited. Only an estimated 7 percent

of the Nation’s land outside Alaska remains

undeveloped, increasing to 16 percent when

Alaska is included.

I argue that the most effective means of

preserving pristine lands is congressional

designation of wilderness. While wilderness

areas are frequently portrayed by friend and

foe alike as simply primitive recreation areas,

others have long recognized the wide array of

values that wilderness offers. Indeed, the

Wilderness Act acknowledges that wilderness

“may also contain ecological, geological, or

other features of scientific, educational, scenic,

or historical value.”

Therefore, I am pleased to present this

paper on the additions that are essential if the

Wilderness Preservation System is to fulfill the

entire range of non-recreational needs in the

future. I congratulate the Forest Service and

the organizers of the colloquium for their

recognition of the broad importance of

wilderness and for this first-time effort to

collect information on the non-recreational

values of wilderness for the upcoming

Resource Planning Act Program assessment.

NON-RECREATIONAL VALUES OF

WILDERNESS

In w ildness is th e preservation of th e

w orld .

H enry David Th oreau (1862)

Th e preservation of wildness is an

essential form of land stewardship, providing

tremendously important societal benefits

beyond recreation. Among those are biological

diversity, geological and watershed protection,

scientific opportunities, and other values as

discussed below.

Biological Diversity

The estimated 30 million-plus species on

Earth constitute a genetic resource that is the

most valuable and irreplaceable resource we

have. Once lost, it is gone forever. Yet

humans are wasting and degrading this genetic

reservoir that provides food, clothes, clean

water, energy, building material, medicines,

psychological well-being, and many other

benefits. Simply put, unless we dramatically

alter current practices, the Earth will certainly

lose a large share of its species during our

lifetime. Biological diversity is also being

seriously affected through the loss of diversity

within species (genetic loss) and the

destruction of ecosystems.

Before solutions to the loss of biological

diversity can be achieved, we must have a

more complete and widespread understanding

of what biological diversity is. In basic terms,

biological diversity is the diversity of life. It

encompasses these related levels of diversity.

First, ecosystem diversity, defined as different

physical settings containing distinctive but

interacting communities of species. Second,

species diversity or species richness--the most

commonly used form of the term biological

diversity. It refers to the number of different

species that share the planet. Third, genetic

diversity which is the genetic variability that

exists among individuals of a species. Genetic

variation affects the ability of that species to

adapt to environmental changes.

Wildlands are necessary to the

conservation of biological diversity.

Experience has shown time and again that

human manipulation of the environment fails to

ensure diversity at its three basic levels. In

fact, preserving intact representatives of each

native ecosystem to allow for natural

ecological functions should be a primary

objective of the National Wilderness

Preservation System. It is estimated that 157

of the 261 ecosystem types in the United

States are currently included in the wilderness

system (Davis 1987), but they may not be

sufficiently represented or large enough to

sustain all species populations.

A second important objective should be

the preservation of species that are dependent

on wildlands for all or part of their lives.

55
Such species exhibit great differences in their

abilities to tolerate human disturbance. Some

disturbance-sensitive species, such as the

ivory-billed woodpecker, require vast expanses

of undisturbed forest. The Northern spotted

owl is equally particular, requiring large areas

of old-growth forests--primarily Douglas-fir--to

survive. Restoring grizzly bear, mountain lion,

and wolf populations to parts of their former

range requires large undeveloped areas.

Practically speaking, the National Wilderness

Preservation System is not now--and may

never be--of sufficient magnitude for the

long-term survival of these species. Therefore,

wildland areas must be combined with other

lands on which activities have been designed

or restricted so as to meet those species’ needs.

Finally, wildlands preservation plays a

critical role in genetic conservation. Although

gene banks, gardens, and zoos are a limited

means in genetic conservation, in situ methods

provide the only reasonable, cost effective

solution on the broader scale. Plant and

animal species existing in their natural habitats

have been vital to the development of drugs to

fight heart disease, of antibiotics, anti-cancer

agents, hormones, and anticoagulants. More

than 40 percent of modem pharmaceuticals are

derived from natural substances; yet, only one

percent of known plant species has been

studied thoroughly for human benefits. The

genetic reservoir is critical for future food and

fiber supplies, not only for new crops but to

“revitalize” existing commercial species.

To paraphrase Aldo Leopold, wilderness

serves a crucial role by allowing us to save

some of the ecological pieces as we tinker

wholesale with our natural environments. As

private lands are developed and modified and

as unprotected Federal lands are progressively

roaded, logged, and mined, the need for

permanently protected wilderness increases.

Geological Features

“Geologic and land form features are

evid ence of th e h istorical forces th at sh aped

th e evolution of living organism s and can

provide insigh t into past environm ents . . . .”

(Juday 19 87).

Outstanding and representative natural

geologic features should be preserved as an

important part of our National heritage. Of

course, geologic features are closely related to

biological diversity. Wilderness designation

provides protection for these features.

Watershed Protection

The value of wildlands for watershed

protection is undisputed. In the Western

United States, for example, the majority of all

flowing water used by industry, municipalities,

farmers, and ranchers ori inates

lands--most often on wilc!lands.

on public

Foresters and other resource managers

m any times argue that they can manage a

watershed better than nature. However, a

considerable body of research and experience

demonstrates the values of undisturbed forests

in providing high-quality water with the added

benefits of low cost and naturally regulated and

modulated flows.

There is little doubt that resource

extraction activities can disturb natural

waterways in such a manner as to cause

disastrous effects on water quality and aquatic

habitats. A classic case involves the South

Fork Salmon River on the Payette National

Forest in central Idaho. Once one of the most

important spawning areas for summer chinook

salmon in the Pacific Northwest, the South

Fork contributed 55 percent of the entire

Columbia River basin summer chinook

population. The river produced approximately

50,000 adult chinook annually, of which

10,000 later returned from the Pacific Ocean to

spawn. During the early 1960’s, more than 30

percent of Idaho’s chinook salmon angling

occurred on the South Fork.

This river has been severely impacted by

timber management practices. The South Fork

drainage is located atop the Idaho Batholith, a

highly unstable and erosive granite formation

that underlies much of central Idaho and

extends into Montana. In the mid-1960’s,

heavy rains fell on the winter snowpack,

causing a massive washout of Forest Service

logging roads and clearcut areas. The washout

dumped tons of sediment into the South Fork,

smothering fish spawning and rearing gravels

56
and devastating the fishery. This disaster

caused population numbers of anadromous fish

to decline drasticall

eJ

, The South Fork

drainage was clos to further logging for a

decade during which time the river slowly

began to cleanse itself of the sediment. In

1978, the Forest Service resumed logging on a

limited basis, These logging activities were

again halted after monitoring revealed

increasing levels of sediment in the river.

Today the South Fork, a fishery once

valued at $100 million, has a fraction of its

former capacity to produce fish. Only about

7,000 summer chinook smolts are now

produced annually, with as few as 300 adults

returning from the Pacific Ocean to spawn.

Federal officials have considered nominating

the South Fork’s salmon and steelhead

populations for listing under provisions of the

Endangered Species Act.

The Forest Service has recognized that

wilderness management provides the greatest

opportunity to protect and improve fish habitat

in the South Fork. In its draft management

plan for the Payette National Forest, the

agency explained:

A major opportunity exists to

improve anadromous fish habitat in

the South Fork Salmon River.

Near natural habitat potential could

be achieved by decreasing existing

erosion and sedimentation and

protection of habitat by wilderness

designation and Wild and Scenic

River designations. Fish habitat is

maximized within naturally

functioning ecosystems, in which

fish evolved or were created. The

adaptation process, which has

occurred over millennia, cannot be

improved upon by relatively shortterm human strategies. Therefore,

wilderness designation or Wild and

Scenic River designations, which

protect the integrity of naturally

functioning ecosystems to the

greatest extent possible, have the

indirect benefit of being optimal

from a fish habitat management

standpoint. (USDA Forest Service,

198%).

Unfortunately the final forest plan for the

Payette does not reflect this policy.

In addition, research in the Pacific

Northwest has demonstrated that undisturbed

old-growth forests produce the highest quality

water for human consumption and that streams

free of sediment are prime anadromous fiih

spawning areas. (Maser and Trappe 1984;

Mastrantonio 1987). From mountain tarns to

ovefflow river bottoms and from bubbling

glacier-fed brooks to braided river deltas, the

diverse nature of and benefits to humans from

untainted, free-flowing, and healthy watersheds

cannot be overstated. Protection for reasonable

portions of these systems relieves humans from

the onus of attempting to artificially duplicate

literally hundreds of within-system functions,

Cleansing water, supporting complex wildlife

systems, trapping and modrfying chemical

concentrations, recharging underground

systems, regulating annual water regimes,

recreation for man, and esthetics are all natural

contributions of watersheds. Clearly the

dilemmas of Southern Florida and the

everglades system indicate that nature is far

better and more cost effective at operating

watershed functions.

One of two original purposes in

establishing the National Forests was the

protection of watersheds. In the East, one of

the central aims of the acquisition of the

National Forests under the 1911 Weeks Act

was to protect watersheds. Through a series of

improvements in clean water and other related

legislation, the American public has

demonstrated its commitment to quality water

for human consumption, wildlife, and

recreation use. Wilderness designation

continues to offer the surest long-term

protection of watersheds at the lowest cost.

Most of the National Forest roadless lands

could be justified for addition to the wilderness

system based solely on their importance to the

protection and maintenance of high quality

waters.

Science

A most obvious non-recreational benefit

of wilderness is its ability to provide

benchmarks for scientific research, applied

forestry, and agriculture. In this sense,

57
wilderness is like a trust fund for the future,

holding answers to questions we have not yet

learned to ask. As examples, the study of any

species in its natural, undisturbed habitat

contributes to a more intelligent management

regime for the species elsewhere. This is

particularly important for forestry and wildlife

management. Wilderness watersheds, in

addition to the benefits I noted above, also

establish a benchmark against which to judge

the impacts of development activities

elsewhere. Wilderness waters ate being used

to conduct important studies on acid

deposition. Because these waters am largely

free of disturbances caused by human activity,

they can provide vitally needed base-line data

about the effects of atmospheric pollution.

Wilderness-offers a tremendous

opportunity for the study of patterns of

disturbance and recovery. As a USDA Forest

Service scientist has noted, “Wilderness

ecosystems are unique in their scale and in

their degree of naturalness, which provide

people with unique opportunities to learn.”

(Franklin 1987)

Heritage, Educational, Cultural,

Psychological, and Spiritual Values

Wilderness has been a major force in the

development of the United States. It has been

a source of important cultural differences, and

even today is viewed differently by individuals

and cultural groups. Native Americans

traditionally and now see the natural world

unlike European settlers and their descendants

see it. Chief Standing Bear of the Ogalala

Sioux made this clear in reference to contacts

with white civilization: “We did not think of

the great open plains, the beautiful rolling hills

and the winding streams with tangled growth

as wild. Only to the white man was nature a

wilderness and . . . the land infested with wild

animals and savage people” (Nash 1982). The

“wildness” shaped those who colonized North

America and helped form the National

character. Rod Nash describes this history and

has concluded it is a source of our democracy.

Remaining wildlands have enormous

importance for the preservation of Native

American cultural and spiritual values and for

saving a microcosm of what shaped the

heritage of the United States. Today’s

58

wilderness continues to shape our National

development and is widely heralded and

sometime used to develop leadership, personal

confidence, and social skills and to instill a

sense of pride and respect for our natural

resources.

In addition, wilderness is believed by

some professionals and lay people alike to be

important for mental health and well being.

Just the mere presence and availability of

wilderness may have psychological benefits.

Wilderness experiences increasingly are used

for therapeutic reasons and to help correct

social disorders.

Esthetics

Natural, undisturbed landscapes have a

special beauty and inspire awe in ways that

cannot be duplicated by the works of humans.

The National Wilderness Preservation System

contains many examples of such landscapes

and should encompass even more of the

Nation’s scenic wonders. But a landscape does

not have to be spectacular to be esthetically

pleasing. Wilderness should protect both the

grand and the simple natural land forms of the

country.

Moral

All the wilderness values discussed to

this point have a decidedly anthropogenic

approach or bias. However, there are those

who believe that nonhuman life and wild

ecosystems simply have a right to exist. The

basic intuition is that all organisms and entities

are equal in intrinsic worth (Devall and

Sessions 1985). No conventional economic or

biological analysis will encompass this

concern. It is more a religious belief or an

article of faith such as is found in the thinking

and writing of the “deep ecologists.”

THE FUTURE WILDERNESS SYSTEM

Preserving wilderness to protect the

values and insure the benefits described above

is a considerable challenge. Indeed, there are

some who would claim that we have already

“locked up” enough lands in the United States.
My own experience and research leads me to a

different conclusion.

A quick review of the present wilderness

system makes it clear that additional wildland

protection is necessary to meet the challenge I

have defined. First, only 4 percent--88.8

million acres in 463 areas--of the U.S. landbase

is included in the National Wilderness

Preservation System.’ Four Federal

agencies--the National Park Service, USDA

Forest Service, U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service,

and Bureau of Land Management--oversee the

lands in the system.

Approximately 16 percent of the Nation

remains in a relatively natural, roadless

condition. However,_these wildlands are not

distributed on an even basis in the

geographical sense. Most are located in

Alaska and in the 11 Western States.

Table 1 and figures 1 and 2 show the

amount of Federal designated wilderness by

Federal land system and give estimates of

acreage with the potential for inclusion in the

wilderness system.2 Acreage figures tell us

little, though, about the quality and types of

lands preserved as wilderness today. Ideally, a

full range of functioning, intact ecosystems

should be protected. But, as George Davis

reports in using a refinement of the

Bailey-Kuchler ecosystem approach, only 157

of the country’s 261 ecosystems are now

represented in the National Wilderness

Preservation System. I believe that many of

these ecosystems are under-represented with

respect to both their size and quantity.

In other words, simply saving

“representative” ecosystems is not sufficient.

Indeed, size may be the most important factor

in conserving biological diversity. Island

biogeographic theory and site specific studies

provide tools to estimate the relationship

between species and areas. The rough rule is

that a tenfold decrease in area corresponds to a

halving of the equilibrium number of species

present (May 1981 p. 231). This estimate

indicates we can eventually expect a significant

loss of species dependent on wildlands in the

United States, considering that only 7 percent

of the landbase on the contiguous 48 States is

wild.

As to quantity, redundancy of

representation is essential insurance for the

future. One cannot assume that all species

within an ecosystem are randomly and

uniformly distributed. We could miss entire

species or certainly key genetic variants if we

preserve only one of several like ecosystems or

fail to establish a properly designed

macroreserve. Replications of similarly

functioning ecosystems would provide a safety

net for little known invertebrate animals and

nonvascular plants, some of which could be

seriously endangered (Wilcove and Flamm

1986).

In addition, greater consideration must be

given to the problem of habitat fragmentation.

When continuous habitats are fragmented,

some habitat islands will be unable to support

viable populations of certain species. This is

often the case for animals requiring large areas

for survival such as the grizzly bear. A single

grizzly in the Yellowstone ecosystem might

range over an area up to 3,000 square

kilometers. Species with large area

requirements can be very difficult to conserve;

yet they are often the ones most in need of

protection (Norse and others 1986).

One solution is to ensure that each

eco-region (as defined by Bailey) contains at

least one “macro-wilderness” as a haven for

those species requiring large areas. Properly

managed, these large areas will provide a

protective umbrella for many species. To

achieve macro-wilderness, existing wilderness

areas could be enlarged by adding adjacent

roadless areas. In some cases, two or more

wilderness areas could be joined by restoring

roaded lands that link wilderness areas. The

effective size of these macro-wildernesses

could be further increased by restricting land

use activities in areas adjacent to the protected

areas. It is clear that such a solution to the

problems caused by habitat fragmentation will

require a high level of coordination between

private and public land managers, including

foreign Governments.

The Wilderness Society has proposed a

macro-reserve management approach for the

Greater Yellowstone Ecosystem (Wilderness

Society 1986). This region consists of all or

portions of the Gallatin, Custer, Shoshone,

Bridger-Teton, Caribou, Targhee, and

59
Table 1. -- Designated wilderness and potential wilderness by federal land system (millions of

acres)

Other 49 States

Alaska (Excluding Alaska) Total United States

Desig- Desig- DesigPoten-nated Poten- nated Poten- nated

Federal Land System tial (NWPS) Total tial (NWPS) Total tial (NWPS) Total

National Forest System 12.0 5.5 17.5 41.0 26.8 67.8 53.0 32.3 85.3

National Park System 19.0 32.4 51.4 6.0 4.4 10.4 25.0 36.8 61.8

National Wildlife

Refuge System 58.0 18.7 76.7 5.0 0.6 5.6 63.0 19.3 82.3

Public Lands (BLM) 75.0 00.0 75.0 50.0 0.4 50.4 125.0 0.4 125.4

Total Four System’ 164.0 56.6 220.6 102.0 32.2 134.2 266.0 88.8 354.8

State System Equivalent 1.1 1.1

to National Syctem

Total Acreage 379.1

’ Figures may not add to total due to rounding.

1902.0 2281.1

Table 2. -- A proposed future national wilderness preservation system (millions of acres)

Other 49 States,

Puerto Rico, and

Federal Land System Alaska Territories Total

National Forest System 15.0 50.0 65.0

National Park System 51.4 10.4 61.8

National Wildlife

Refuge System 76.7 82.4

Public Lands (BLM) 50.0 2% 75.0

New Areas 0.0 9:o 9.0

Total (rounded off) 193.0 100.0 293.0

60
Figure l.--Wilderness Today (Total United States)

Wilderness

Source: The Wilderness Society

Figure 2.--Wilderness Today (Excluding Alaska)

3.9%

oadless Public

11.7%

$;: 3 Roaded Pu

12.2%

Wilderness 1.7% Roadless Publi c 5.4%

dPublic 9.5%

blic

Source: The Wilderness Society

61
Figure 3.--Future Wildemess (Total United States)

Wilderness

Roaded Pu

14.9%

Source: The Wilderness Society

Figure 4.--Future Wilderness (Excluding Alaska)

Wilderness

blic

blic

83.4%

Source: The Wilderness Society

62
Beaverhead National Forests; Grand Teton and

Yellowstone National Parks; the National Elk

Refuge; and Red Rock Lake and Gray’s Lake

National Wildlife Refuges. In the Greater

Yellowstone Ecosystem, the opportunity exists

to link together critical Federal wildlands,

creating a macro-reserve that may well be

essential to the long-term health of the

ecosystem and the creatures it harbors.

Examples of other candidate macroreserves

are:

1. Appalachian Mountains - encompassing

the Chattahoochee, Cherokee, and

Nantahala-Pisgah National Forests to the South;

the Great Smoky Mountain National Park; and

the Jefferson, George Washington, and

Monongahela National Forests and Shenandoah

National Park to the North.

2. Northern Great Lakes - comprised of

Voyageurs National Park; the Superior,

Chequamegon, Ottawa, Nicolet, and Hiawatha

National Forests; the Seney National Wildlife

Refuge; and Quantico Park in Canada.

3. Northern Continental Divide - including

the Flathead and Lewis & Clark National

Forests, Glacier-Water-ton National Park, Swan

River National Wildlife Refuge, and adjacent

lands.

4. Pacific Forests - from Northern

California through British Columbia to

Southeast Alaska (requiring several

macroreserves).

5. Arctic Region - preserving the Brooks

Range, the South slope tiaga forests and

portions of the coastal plain, Arctic National

Wildlife Refuge, and Canada’s Northern Yukon

National Park.

6. Colorado Plateau - encompassing the

physiographic province located in Utah,

Colorado, New Mexico, and Arizona (bordered

to the North by the Uinta Mountains, to the

East by the Southern Rocky Mountains, to the

South by the Mogollon Rim, and to the West

by the Hurricane and Wasatch faults).

Despite the rapid pace at which wild areas

are disappearing in the United States, I believe

there are sufficient wildlands available in

Alaska and the Western States to meet most

ecosystem protection needs and to preserve

areas of sufficient size to conserve most

species. The Great Plains and much of the

East present different conservation challenges.

Cooperatively managed protective systems will

be necessary and new acquisitions for units

such as the Tallgrass Prairie National Park and

for linkage areas will be required.

Inclusion of the remaining ecosystems not

found on Federal lands would require a large

land acquisition program and commitment by

States for protection of the lands under their

jurisdiction. A report to The Nature

Conservancy nearly a decade ago stated that

“as of April I, 1978, 69 ecosystem types

appeared to have no definite Federal protection.

The top 11 States in terms of the number of

Federally unprotected major ecosystems which

they contain were as follows: Texas (14);

Oklahoma (lo), California (9); Minnesota (6);

and Florida, Illinois, Iowa, Michigan, Missouri,

Nebraska and Wisconsin (5 each).”

(Crumpacker 1979) Further study should be

made of the opportunity and legislation

requirements to complement the National

Wilderness Preservation System with State

wilderness systems.

SUMMARY CONCLUSIONS

Alaska.--Alaska is one of the few places

remaining in the world where all of the values

associated with wilderness still exist and where

we have an opportunity to protect large and

complete ecosystems for the future. Because

of the fragility of the Alaskan environment,

any development must be done with extreme

care. The biological needs of the large

Alaskan mammals and other migratory species

require large undeveloped areas. Alaska has

very diverse geology and some very dynamic

environments that also require protection.

For these reasons, I recommend that

approximately one-half of Alaskan lands

remain forever wild.

Contiguous United States--Designated and

de facto wilderness in the contiguous 48 States

falls short of the aggregate needed to insure

biological diversity in the long term and to

meet other needs. In addition, the wilderness

63
resource is inadequately distributed,

concentrated in the Western United States. An

estimated 104 ecosystems are not represented

in the National Wilderness Preservation

System. Some of these “missing ecosystems”

may occur on State or other Federal lands.

These ecosystems should either be transferred

for inclusion in the system or provided with

comparable long-term protection under other

authorities. Many of the missing ecosystems

will require acquisition and subsequent

restoration.

Islands, Aquatic and Underground

Ecosystems. --Most islands under United States

sovereignty have been greatly modified. Yet

each has unique and important ecosystems, I

believe that all of the remaining undeveloped

lands on these islands should be protected.

Representative aquatic and under-ground

ecosystems should also be protected and

included in the National Wilderness

Preservation System.

Ecoregion and Ecosystem Representation.--

Ideally each ecoregion (Bailey) should include

at least one macro-wilderness within a larger

macro-reserve complex. The system should

include three to five representatives of each of

the ecosystems (Davis 1987). Ecosystem

redundancy is needed for geographic and

genetic representation, as insurance against

catastrophes, and for inclusion of all narrowly

confined insular species. Ecosystem

representation should also ensure representation

of many of the Nation’s geologic features.

However, it will not completely capture the

geologic component of our natural heritage. A

geologic classification system should be used

to identify features that may have been missed

by the ecological approach. Such a

classification system was developed in 1978 by

a panel of professional geologists. The system

is process-oriented to provide a means of

classifying all geologic features of possible

National, State or local significance. The

classification system can be used in connection

with the ecological systems (Spicer 1987).

A National Wilderness Preservation

System that adequately protects natural

diversity can be expected to satisfy most of the

other non-recreational needs wilderness

provides. Lands that were excluded from the

above approach should be included on a

case-by-case basis.

It is my belief that these wilderness values

warrant protecting forever in a wild State at

least 5 percent of the lands of the coterminous

United States and 13 percent of United States

lands overall, (as shown in table 2, figures 3

and 4, a Future Wilderness System).

REFERENCES

Bailey, Robert G. and Charles T. Cushwa.

1981. Bcoregions of North America.

Washington, DC.; U.S. Geological

Survey.

Crumpacker, David W. 1979. Acquisition

priorities for major natural ecosystems in

the United States, Report to the Nature

Conservancy.

Davis, George D. 1987. Ecosystem

representation as criterion for World

Wilderness Designation, prepared for the

Wild Wings Foundation and presented at

the Fourth World Wilderness Congress.

September 1987.

Devall, Bill; Sessions George. 1985. Deep

ecology.

Franklin, Jerry F. 1987. In: Lucas, Robert C.

compiler, Proceedings, National wilderness

research conference; July 23-26, 1985;

Fort Collins, CO. Gen. Tech. Rept.

INT-220, Ogden, UT.

Juday, Glenn P. 1987. Selecting natural areas

for geological features: A rationale and

examples from Alaska. Natural Areas

Journal 7(4): 137.

Maser, Chris; Trappe, J. M. 1984. The seen

and unseen world of the fallen tree.

Pacific Northwest Forest & Range Exp.

Station, Gen. Tech. Rep. PNW 164.

Mastrantonio, J. L. 1987. Old growth forests

teach many lessons, Oregonian: July 30.

Portland, OR.

May, Robert. 1981. Theoretical ecology:

Principles and applications. 23 1.

64
Nash, Roderick. I Yi:. ‘:,‘ildemdss and the

anierican hiid. xiii. Natural Areas Joilmal.

1984.. Wilderness wildlands. 4(4).

Norse, Elliott, et al. 1586. Conserving

biological diversity in our National

Forests. The Wilderness Society.

Soper, C.; Htrrnke,J. W. 1988. De Facto

Wilderness: Lands’complementary to the

National Wilderness System prepared for

the National Wilderness Colloquium.

Spicer, Richard C. 1987. Preserving the

geological component of, our natural

heritage. Natural Areas Journal.

7(4):135-136.

Stegner, Wallace. 1981. American Places.

Thoreau, Henry David. 1862. Walking.

U.S. Department of Agriculture. IQrrest Service.

1985. Draft management pi;lu. i”ayette

National Forest; h4cCal1, ID.

Wilcove, David, and Barry R. Flamm. 1984.

Conserving biological diversity: A

challenge for National Forest management.

Paper presented at the IV InterNational

Congress of Ecology; Syracuse, NY;

August 15, 1986.

Wilderness Society [The]. 1986. Management

directions for the greater Yellowstone

ecosystem; Washington, D.C.

ENDNOTES

1. Th ese figures a!o not reflect privately protected lands such as th ose ow ned by Th e Nature

Conse rvancy.

2. Potential lands are based on th e follow ing: (1) National Forest estim ates from R oadless Area

R evieiv and Evaluation process (RARE II), includ ing roadless lands released by legislation; (2)

National Park acreage based on agency w ild e rness proposals; (3) VSFW S acreage based on

agency w ild e rness proposals; and (4) BLM acreage based on agency review as re quired by

FLPMA, adjusted upw ard 25 m illion acres to com pensate for faults--nam ely excessively stringent

standards--in the review process.

65
TH E NON-RECREATIONAL USE OF

W ILDERNESS IN TH E

INTERNATIONAL CONTEXT

Ge orge N. W allace and H arold K. Eidsvik *

ABS T R A C T

It is in th e developing countries th at th e

non- recreational uses and benefits of

w ild e rness h ave added significance. It is th ese

b enefits th at provide the m ost convincing

argum ents for w ildland protection and

m anagem ent. Th is is especially true in

countries w h e re basic h um an needs are still at

th e top of th e agenda and w h e re th e

recreational use of w ild e rness is, for th e m ost

part, a new or a foreign id ea. Th is paper

b egins w ith a general d iscussion of th e concept

of “w ild e rness” as it relates to th e w orld

beyond our bord e rs; goes on to exam ine th e

extent of th e w orlds w ildlands, includ ing an

estim ate of w h ich m igh t be said to h ave

“w ild erness quality”; th e n describes w h y th e

non- recreational b enefits are so im portant for

countries th at are trying to protect and

m anage th eir w ildlands.

TH E INTERNATIONAL

UNDERSTANDING OF W ILDERNESS

Not long ago the concept of wilderness

was, in the words of Roderick Nash, a “full

stomach phenomena” (Nash, 1978). It was the

invention of a few developed countries that

were blessed with abundant natural resources

and who had attained a high standard of living.

These countries, it was thought, were the ones

who could afford to set aside such areas.

This attitude has begun to change and the

concept of wilderness is now frequently

discussed in international circles in a serious

and considered way. Even in developing

countries that lack organized environmental or

recreational constituencies, there is a growing

awareness among decision makers about the

importance of wilderness protection. This

awareness is usually linked to concerns about

things like watershed management, biological

and genetic diversity, and the protection of

endangered species, which are now topics that

are difficult to escape if one is involved in a

country’s development. This understanding has

been fostered by those agencies (AID, CIDA,

GTZ etc.) offering development assistance, the

efforts of organizations like The International

Union for the Conservation of Nature (IUCN),

programs like The United Nations Man and the

Biosphere (MAB) and the World Wilderness

Congress -- among others.

While wilderness protection is an objective

of wildland managers worldwide, few countries

have chosen to designate wilderness through a

legal process. As of this writing, Canada,

Australia, New Zealand and South Africa ate

the only countries besides the United States to

have wilderness legislation and some of that is

at the provincial or state level. Protected areas

with limited resource utilization, however, exist

in 125 of the world’s 160 countries (IUCN

1985). “Wilderness”, in the international

context, more often than not, refers to the

wildlands within these protected areas that

have “wilderness characteristics”.

Even though the term “wilderness” is used

more frequently among members of the world

conservation community, it is still infrequently

used elsewhere. There are problems with the

translation of the word “wilderness” into

languages like Spanish and French (Dourjeanni,

1984), and words like “wildland” or “wild

area” (“area silvestre”, “aire sauvage”) are more

understandable and used more often.

* Faculty Associate, D e pt. of R ecreation Resources and Landscape Arch itecture, Colorado State Unive rsity,

Fort Collins, CO ; Ch airm an, Com m ission on National Park s and Protected Areas Inte rnational Union for

Conse rvation of Nature and Natural Resources, O ttaw a, O ntario.

66
The World Wilderness Congress has given

wilderness a formahzed international platform.

It has dealt with the concept, the reality, the

difficulties and the need for wilderness. In

spite of many cultural differences, each of the

four World Wilderness Congresses has worked

on a definition of wilderness that is acceptable

to the world community. The most recent

Congress adopted the following revision of

previous defiinitionti

“Wilderness is an enduring natural

resource which provides opportunities to

obtain those pristine elements which

comprise the spiritual and physical

wilderness experience.

It is protected as an ecological

preserve of natural diverse processes and

genetic resources, it is primarily affected

by nature, with human impact substantially

unnoticed, and where people are visitors,

without mechanical transport or

installation.

It must enjoy the highest legislative

protection. It should be of sufficient size

to realize its essential nature. It should be

managed so as to retain its wilderness

qualities.” (Estes Park -Colorado, 1987)

Subsequently, the Resolutions Committee

requested that IUCN further revise the above

definition in a way that accommodates

indigenous peoples who live within wilderness.

The following has been proposed:

“Wilderness is an enduring natural

area, legislatively protected and of

sufficient size to protect the pristine

natural elements, which may serve physical

and spiritual well being. It is an area

where little or no persistent evidence of

human intrusion is permitted, so that

natural processes may continue to evolve

(Eidsvik, 1988).

There is then, a marked difference between

this evolving definition and the US.

Wilderness Act . . . .“where the earth and its

community of life are untrammeled by man,

where man himself is a visitor who does not

remain’ (U.S. Wilderness Act, 1964). Nearly

all wildland areas in developing countries, if

not occupied by indigenous people, are

occupied by or under pressure from nearby

non-traditional subsistence peoples who engage

in shifting cultivation, grazing, hunting or

gathering. This is an important distinction

which we shall discuss later in the paper.

The Wilderness Congress also continues to

address the criteria for the size of wilderness

areas. Some feel that an area size standard as

small as the 5000 acres or more prescribed by

the U.S. Wilderness Act would make it

difficult to achieve the objectives of large size,

remoteness, and the protection pristine natural

elements. (Eidsvik, 1985; Mosley, 1986).

Others feel that area criteria may be

unnecessary and point out that an isolated

mountain valley or an island, which otherwise

meet wilderness criteria, might be excluded

from designation if size standards were not

flexible.

HOW MUCH WILDERNESS/WILDLAND

IS THERE IN THE WORLD?

The Sierra Club recently completed a

worldwide inventory using jet navigation charts

to see how many blocks of roadless and

relatively uninhabited land larger than 400,000

ha. could be found. They identified five

billion hectares or roughly one third of the

worlds land area that fit this description.

Much of this “de-facto” wilderness (> 60%).

however, is tundra, desert or unoccupied

because of it’s inhospitable nature (McClosky

1987). The Sierra Club survey gives a

preliminary overview of how much of the

world remains relatively undeveloped. Much

of this could be considered “wildland” but is

not “wilderness” under currently accepted

definitions which require some degree of legal

protection.

Another measure of the worlds wilderness

areas comes from the data kept by IUCN’s

Protected Areas Data Unit (PADU) which was

initiated in 1959 at the request of the United

Nations. This data which is kept at the

Conservation Monitoring Center registers the

legally designated or privately owned protected

areas found in 125 of the worlds 160 countries.

As of 1985 PADU describes the worlds

protected areas as presented in table 1.

67
Table 1. -- Protected Areas of the World

IUCN category

I Scientific, Nature Reserves

II National Parks, or Equivalent

:

National Monuments

Managed Nature Reserves

and Wildlife Sanctuaries

V Protected Land or Seascapes

TOTAL

Source: IUCN 1985

units

526

1,050

70

1,488

380

land area

38,106,074 ha.

256,029,904 ha.

6556,943 ha.

103,504,852 ha.

19,586,625 ha.

423,774,398 ha.

Of this total, about half, or more than 200

million hectares (772,200 square miles), are of

wilderness quality using U.S. standards

(Eidsvik 1987). Further observation indicates

that 100 million ha are North of 60 degrees in

the Northern Hemisphere.

This 200 million ha. of “wildland” having

wilderness quality includes about 39 million

ha. in the U.S. Wilderness Preservation System

and approximately 71 million ha. are in the

wilderness systems of Canada, Australia, New

Zealand and South Africa. “Wilderness areas”

in most countries are wildland zones within

legally protected areas found in IUCN

categories I-IV. The “core areas” of the

worlds Biosphere Reserves are good examples

of this type of zoning. The 50 countries in

Table 2 incorporate more than 90% of the

worlds’ protected areas (Eidsvik 1984).

North of 60 degrees there are 44 protected

areas over 50,000 in size which could be

considered as de facto wilderness areas. These

are dramatic numbers which include 25% of

the world’s largest park, the 70,000,OOO ha

Greenland National Park. There are few

permanent residents in any of the circumpolar

defacto wilderness areas.

One of the world’s greatest wildlands is

Antarctica, which is 99% ice, 1% soil and has

a negative heat supply for all but two months

of the year. It does, of course have unique

flora and fauna. The international treaties that

govern the area do include special conservation

and scientific interest sites, access to which is

prohibited except by permit. Members of the

Scientific Committee for Antarctic Research

(SCAR) feel that such areas will continue to be

protected by their climate and isolation

(IUCN/SCAR 1986).

The wildemess/wildland areas that are the

focus of the remainder of this paper are those

lying below or above circumpolar regions and

within developing countries (Table 2) that am

struggling to protect their wildlands. It is

here we find the tropical and neotropical

rainforests, the snow leopard, the great game

herds of the African Savanna, the cloud forests,

volcanos, waterfalls, coral reefs, condors,

mangrove swamps and thousands of other

examples of (known and unknown) flora,

fauna, land and seascape that the world is

beginning to treasure - and worry over. It

seems appro riate that we focus on these areas

and their ricK diversity of biomes principally

because most are under tremendous pressure

from inappropriate economic development as

well as from nearby human activity and

encroachment. These developments include the

over-exploitation of tropical forests, poorly

planned hydroelectric projects and the

conversion of forest lands to agricultural land

uses that are often not sustainable.

THE RELATIONSHIP BETWEEN

INTERNATIONAL DEVELOPMENT,

PEACE AND STABILITY AND

WILDLAND PROTECTION

There is consensus among all involved--

expressed at the Fourth World Wilderness

Congress--that the protection of wildlands can

only succeed if it is part of an overall strategy

for peace and development that will raise the

standard of living for the world’s poor and

make it less likely that individual nations will

sacrifice their natural resources in order to pay

their foreign debt or to win a war (Brundtland

68
Table 2. -- The world coverage of protected areas’, countries protecting more than 1,000,000 ha

COllntry Number of Areas Hectares

gztEa Angola

5 1517,700

5;; 2594,351

Bolivia

3;,74;;J&

:z.z””

11:644:000

11894.302

Cameroon 2;228;200

Canada

Fh-rpl African Republic

China

Colombia

Congo

Cz;;;;;tvakia

Ecuador

Ethiopia

gay!:

Fdr-!z”

Indonesia

Iran

Ivory coast

Japair

Kenya

Malawi

Malaysia

Mauritania

Mongolia

Mozambique

New Zealand

Norway

Pakistan

; yargua y

Senegal

South African

South West Africa

Spain

Sudan

Sweden

&ytia$

xza

United Kingdom

United States of America

Venequela

Zaire

Zambia

Zimbabwe

149

5:

6;

15

72

122

57

251

3t:

:I:

1,175,075

11,149,261

1;,;-7;,;;;

1:865:000

2,195,600

:.;B$,;;;

115581882

1,483,OOO

4,672,580

1,815,OOO

;,;=;,;;;

6153713 11

1,120,538

2,407,642

1;4;;,;;+

64:946:135

;>;gz;,9&

6:664:400

2,757,709

1 Adapted from IUCN? 1985. Thus about 50 countries incorporate more than 90% of the world

protected areas (Eidsvlk 1987).

69
1987). Without an integrated approach to rural

development in particular, wildlands in the

third world will remain under pressure from

people who need their resources to survive.

In much of the tropical and neotropical

realm, for example, there is no frost and

resident subsistence or near-subsistence

agriculture is possible year round - even on

lands that would never be farmed in temperate

or developed countries. Steep hillsides, rocky

or densely forested areas do not deter people

who have few other economic options and who

can survive by using the simple tools of fire,

machete, ax, grazing livestock, rifle or snare

to provide for themselves or their families. In

some of the poorer countries 60 to 75 percent

of the population still earn their living from

agriculture. It is convenient for politicians and

government officials to look the other way. In

many countries, search for wildlands are

pressure relief valves that temporarily absorb

hundreds of thousands of people who might

otherwise be in the streets demanding jobs,

housing and food.

Given the basic need for food and shelter

the encroachment of wildland protected areas is

continual even without the surges of new

settlement that are provoked by warfare,

economic downturns or the construction of a

new roads. This is explained not only by

increases in population but also by the fact that

many of the remaining wildlands and nearby

settlements occur on marginal lands. On such

lands the nutrients are frequently tied up in the

vegetative cover where decomposing plant

material is quickly recycled and where the soil

is protected from sun or wind and rain by the

native vegetation. The subsistence agricultural

cycle often entails clearing the land for it’s

timber or fuelwood, which enables the

cultivation of subsistence crops for a few years

until nutrients are depleted. This is often

followed by a few more years of grazing and

the felling of more forest for new cropland as

the cycle continues.

With only a limited ability to govern their

own destiny and an increasing international

debt, many of the lesser developed countries

are unable to sustain their economies or

provide effective rural development or resource

management programs. This exacerbates

conditions with the rural poor. With few cash

crops or the inputs necessary to intensify and

stabilize subsistence production, rural people

become increasingly dependent on limited

natural resources and find it difficult to sustain

themselves without encroaching on “protected

areas”. These areas in effect are their external

support system providing wild meat, firewood

and agricultural opportunity.

There are numerous instances where

wildlands have been located on or near

productive lands where people with money and

power have taken advantage of the

government’s reluctance to remove squatters

from protected areas in order to establish their

own farms and ranches. In most cases,

however, the encroachment of wildland

protected areas located on marginal lands can

rarely be said to be the fault of the person

wielding ax, torch or herding a few head of

livestock. Such people are typically landless,

have few other options for earning a living,

and little idea of the long term implications of

their actions or the extent of world resources.

It is also necessary to point out that there

are long time indigenous occupants of wild

areas who’s hunting, gathering and farming is

extensive (as opposed to intensive) enough that

it allows the land to recover with little long

term damage. In some cases Indian tribes

might be said to be living in harmony with

their ecosystem and guardians of valuable

knowledge (Gomez and Pompa 1987). Where

traditional cultures do use sustained yield

practices, indigenous people and protected area

managers can be appropriate allies but this

requires considerable mutual understanding

(IUCN/UNEP, 1986).

Subsistence pressure on wildlands has

been intensified by warfare and the resulting

numbers of refugees in places like Central

America, Africa and South East Asia.

Refugees entering neighboring countries who

do not have the means to care for them are

often allowed to settle in protected wildland

areas as a last resort. Guerrillas hide in wild

areas and use them intensively for their needs.

The government in power builds roads into

protected areas to facilitate the entry of

counterinsurgency forces and to “pacify” the

area. Combat zones experience considerable

damage from the fighting itself. War and

underdevelopment are usually related and have

70
many indirect repercussions for wilderness.

An example of indirect impact is provided in

Nicaragua. Their national treasury depleted by

years of strife the government has, in desperate

effort to pay for imported energy, recently

agreed to allow both Honduran and Costa

Rican companies to enter previously protected

wildland areas inside Nicaragua in order to

harvest timber.

The massive disruption of protected areas

by military and civil disturbance is

overshadowed by the human misery,

desperation and desolation caused by these

activities. From a long term conservation

perspective, however, one cannot ignore the

destruction of the protected area systems, for

example, of Angola, Mozambique, Uganda,

Ethiopia, Afghanistan, Iran, Cambodia,

Nicaragua and El Salvador.

TH E IM PORTANCE OF FOCUSING ON

TH E NON-RECREATIONAL BENEFITS

PROVIDED BY W ILDERNESS IN ORDER

TO FACILITATE PROTECTION

In developing countries that have large

numbers of rural and urban poor it goes

without saying that most people have neither

the time, m oney or th e cultural predisposition

for outdoor recreation that is found in the

developed world. In situations where a large

percentage of the population is still involved in

small scale farming it is less likely that those

who work physically in the outdoors will opt

to spend available free time in a wilderness

setting. Environmental groups that support the

protection of wildlands are beginning to appear

in the larger cities of many developing

countries. Few of these constituencies

however, have members that defend, or like

their counterparts elsewhere, demand

wilderness as a result of their coming to know

and love such areas via personal recreational

experiences (Barborak, Morales, 1987). On the

contrary, protected areas in developing

countries often lack the staff or budget to

provide access, facilities or information for

local people even though there may be

outfitters present who cater to foreigners who

come for recreation or nature tourism (Ingram

and Durst, 1987).

The in-country support that does exist for

protecting wildlands in most third world

countries has been achieved with difficulty and

has more often than not arisen out of a

growing awareness about the importance of the

following kinds of non-recreational benefits,

most of which are essential for sustaining

regional or local development:

1. Maintaining the environmental stability

of the surrounding region. This entails

stabilizing the water regimen or the intensity of

floods and dry periods, decreasing the rates of

soil and wind erosion and ameliorating local

microclimatic conditions such as protected

areas in India and Nepal like Manas NP.

2. Protecting the public’s investment in

infrastructure such as hydroelectric or irrigation

projects which are huge investments for any

developing country. The loss of reservoir and

power generating capacity as a result of

sedimentation and dramatic fluctuations in

water regimen have become serious problems

for many countries in recent years (Quesada

and Wallace 1985). As a result, watershed

protection is starting to be included as part of

the anticipated costs of most hydroelectric or

irrigation projects funded by the World Bank

or sponsored by USAID and other development

organizations. Examples include: Canaima NP

in Venezuela, Sinhara River in Sri Lanka, and

Dumoga-Bone NP in Indonesia.

3. The protection of quantity and quality

of domestic water supplies. The procurement

and treatment of water is a costly process.

These costs are frequently minimized by the

presence of protected watersheds and forest

reserves that are close to urban areas. Such

areas have the potential to serve as wildlands

that provide many benefits to the local

population and it is in such areas that there is

perhaps the highest level of interest in wildland

management (Wallace, 1985). La Tigra

National Park near Tegucigalpa, Honduras

comprises a minor portion of the watershed

land area but provides the city with a

disproportionate amount of it’s water supply the

quality of which requires considerably less

treatment than the water from the rest of the

watershed area. Among many other examples

are the Rio Macho/I’apanti Wildlife and

Watershed Protection Area in Costa Rica and

the Mome Trois Pitons NP in Dominica.

71
4. Maintaining the productive capacity of

ecosystems. Wildland protected areas serve as

sources of wild breeding stock for a variety of

plant and animal products that are important

renewable, harvestable resources for the local

economy. Protected areas serve as

indispensal~:le nesting, calving, spawning areas

for species uporl which local people depend for

bushmeat, wildlife products such as hides and

ve1!0m, or plants ‘a~(! animals reared from

wiidstock ior ~M~XH such ;!s cular$, periwG&le

crocodiles, ornamental fish or butt&lies

(HJCN,UNEP, 1.984).

5. Genetic and Species Conservation.

Increasingly, national leaders, government

officials and environmental groups, even in the

poorest countries; are being exposed to the

worldwide concern about the importance of

protecting a wide range of biomes and species

communities. The international scientific

community together with non-governmental

organizations like the IUCN, World Wildlife

Federation, Worldwatch, The Nature

Conservancy and programs like The United

Nations Man and the Biosphere Program, The

World Conservation Strategy, and others have

made an attempt to reach national leaders and

to move ahead with their own wildland

protection projects. In some cases this

awareness is, again, a result of stipulations

placed con money being loaned for development

projects by iuterllatiorlal lending and donor

organizations. Such external development

assistance now l’requently requires the analysis

of a projects impacts on species and genetic

diversity and may require mitigation which

includes the designation of protected areas and

interagency coordination to ensure their

v iabjlity.

6. Research. The benefits to all mankind

ftom wildland research in the areas of medical

pharmacology, plant breeding, environmental

tnodification etc, - both basic and applied have

been described adequately elsewhere in these

proceedings. It is important to note that the

interest in conducting research and the

presence of rriore research activity in

developing countries has helped to make

decision makers aware of the economic and

social t)enefi.ts cicrived from research. It has

also stin!r!la:ed “sci~:ntific tourism” and helped

to pt.Gflt out the I_~I~CIIIII~\C~S and importance of

previously unrecognized wildland values and

resources (I,aarman and Perdue, 1987).

7. Tourism that brings visible benefits to

the local economy. There is some resentment

about preserving third world wildlands (that

might otherwise be exploited for their

consumable resonrces) for the benefit of first

world tourists and scientists. In countries like

Kenya, Costa Rica or Nepal, however, the

benefits Fi)m wildland tnrlr;s~t! h:~vc been

raotlr.:ea1>?e e~ougi) r!lrar ipA deciGon makers

and the general public have come to recognxlizt:

the value of protected wildlands to the local.

economy. In these countries it has become

more acceptable to enforce the boundaries and

regulations of protected areas. Costa Rica

recently used their civil guard to remove

several hundred illegal subsistence gold miners

from remote and roadless areas of Corcovado

National Park. What would haye been seer, as

a bold and risky move in many countries went

smoothly and was accepted by the public.

Costa Ricans have come to recognize the value

of their wildland resources and the fact that

many tourists and scientists visit and return to

Costa Rica specifically to experience pristine

backcountry in a tropical setting (I,aarman and

Perdue, 1987).

This list of non-recreation;\! benefits is not

as exhaustive as those brought forth durir!g this

symposium, but it does serve to high.!i&t some

of the more significant reasons that

wildland/wilderness areas are being protected

in most of the world. Poverty and

underdevelopment have meant that the

protection of wilderness cannot yet be based

on a “love for wilderness” of the sort held by a

significant number of people i.11 the United

States and a few other developed countries. It

is a difficult and perilous business for

government officials to tell thousands of rural

poor that they cannot consume wildland

resources or to tell already established groups

that they must leave wildland protected areas.

‘I’here rnust be convincing reasons. As an

awareness about the long term benefits

provided by wildlands increases, especially

among the educated and urban public, it will

become more feasible to actually enforce the

regulations and wildland boundaries that often

only exist on paper ifI Irl:rny of the countries

that are li:tciil ir: ‘I’:\t:lc ’ L%ores and Flouseal,

1988).

‘72
Simultaneous with increasing the general

public’s awareness about the importance of

wildlands, perhaps the greatest challenges

facing officials and managers and others who

are concerned about wildlands am:

(a) being able to integrate the protection

of wildlands into regional land-use and

development planning, and

(b) improving the lot of and winning the

support of those who live immediately adjacent

to or within protected areas and who are

immediately affected by restrictions on their

use of the area.

It is a reality that the future of wilderness

in much of the world in a sense depends on

the future of development. If basic human

needs are not met we can only agonize at the

slow but continual loss of wild tissue.

Conventional politics, economics and

government processes tend to overlook the

values inherent in wilderness even when not

pressured by short term survival needs. It is

therefore important that these values be

carefully articulated and then brought forth - as

they have been at this conference - and

whenever possible put in the international

context.

THE ROLE OF U.S. AGENCIES

There now exists a considerable body of

knowledge that contribute to our understanding

about the relationship between world’s

undisturbed wildlands and their importance as

gene pools, for scientific research, (medical,

agricultural, industrial), and their long term

role in enabling sustainable national

development, hence peace and prosperity

between nations. Thoreau’s claim that, “In

Wilderness lies the preservation of the world”

has now been substantiated scientifically. That

the U.S. has a stake in the protection of the

world’s wildlands goes without saying.

Precedents for U.S. public land management

agency assistance to other counties have been

set and such assistance is likely to continue to

expand into the area of wilderness

management.

The interdependence that many species of

wildlife found in the United States have with

wildlands in other parts of the Americas has

long been known and is reflected in legislation

like the Migratory Bird Treaty Act involving

Canada, Mexico and the US. Likewise,

endangered plant and animal species worldwide

depend on agreements like those developed by

the Convention on International Trade of

Endangered Species (CITES) which has led to

the creation of the Office of Scientific

Authority by the U.S. Fish and Wildlife

Service. The National Park Service, the Forest

Service and the USFWS have established

international assistance units.

The interdependence of protected areas is

further underlined by the Convention for the

Protection of the World”s Cultural and Natural

Heritage. The World Heritage Convention

provides technical advice and financial

assistance to the most outstanding protected

areas in the world - known as World Heritage

Sites. The funds available, as with most

protected amas in the world, barely scratch the

surface of the needs.

The National Park systems that exist in

many countries am frequently patterned after

U.S. and Canadian parks and the Park Service

has a long history of technical assistance in

this area. Wilderness management is a

relatively new field within the USFS, NPS,

USFS and BLM (Wilderness Research Center

1985). The Forest Service has developed

perhaps the most extensive knowledge about

wilderness management. Many agency people

have themselves been trained in the field via

in-service training since University natural

resource management curriculums are just

beginning to incorporate wilderness

management courses. In spite of wilderness

management’s being a relatively new field in

the this country, Agencies like the Forest

Service should anticipate the need to assign

time, budget and personnel to international

programs that have already requested and will

continue to seek assistance in the areas of

wildland management, research, training and

other support necessary for the future

designation of wilderness areas per se and to

make effective wilderness and wildland

management a reality in more than just a

handful of countries which is now the case.

Such assistance can be an important part of the

overall international development effort that

must take place for many years to come.

73
REFERENCES

Barborak, J. and Morales, R., 1987,

unpublished papers, Wildlands Program,

CATIE, (Centro Agromomico Tropical de

Investigation y Ensenanza), Turrialba,

Costa Rica.

Dourjeanni, M. (personal communication with

author) June 1984, Gland Switzerland.

Eidsvik, Harold K. 1987. Wilderness Policy -

An International Prospective. ~~54-68, In:

Lucas, Robert C. Proceedings - National

Wilderness Research Conference: Issues,

State-of-knowledge, Future Directions.

1985. July 23-26; Fort Collins, CO. Gen.

Tech. Rep. INT-220. Ogden, Utah: U.S.

Department of Agriculture, Forest Service,

Intermountain Research Station,

Eidsvik, Harold K. 1988. “Wilderness

Sanctuaries”, forthcoming paper done for

the IUCN Commission on National Parks

and Protected Areas.

Eidsvik, Harold K. 1987. “The Status Of

Wilderness: An International Overview”,

unpublished paper prepared for: The

Natural Resources Journal, University of

New Mexico Law School, Albuquerque.

Eidsvik, Harold K. 1985. Proceedings -

National Wilderness Research Conference,

Ft. Collins, Colorado, July 1985.

Estes Park Colorado, 1987, Proceedings -

Fourth World Wilderness Congress”

Gomez Pompa and Andrea Kaus, 1987, “The

Conservation of Resources by Traditional

Cultures in the Tropics”, presented at the

4th World Wilderness Congress, Estes

Park, Colorado, 1987.

IUCN/UNEP, 1986, Managing Protected Areas

in the Tropics, MacKinnonJ and K., Child

and Thorsell, editors, IUCN Conservation

Monitoring Center, Cambridge, UK.

IUCN/SCAR, 1986, “Conservation in the

Antarctic”, report of the Working Group

on Long Term Conservation in the

Antarctic, Gland, Switzerland.

Ingram, C. and Denise and Patrick Durst,

1987. “Nature Oriented Tourism by U.S.

Based Tour Operators”, FPEI (Forestry

Private Enterprise Initiative) Working

Paper No. 28

IUCN, 1985, United Nations List of National

Parks and Protected Areas, IUCN Gland

and Cambridge, 1985.

Laarman J. G. and Richard R. Perdue 1987.

“A Survey of Return Visits to Costa Rica

by OTS Participants and Associates”, FPEI

Working Paper No. 6

McCloskyMichael J., and Heather Spalding,

1987, ” A Reconnaissance-Level Inventory

Of The Wilderness Remaining In The

World”, Sierra Club, Washington DC.

Mosley, G. “Our Last Great Wilderness,

Australian Conservation Foundation,

Melbourne, 1986.

Nash, Roderick, 1976, “Nature in World

Development”, Bellagio Lectures,

Rockerfeller Brothers, 197 8

Shores, J.and Brian Houseal, 1988, “Of

Partners and Paper Parks”, IN The Nature

Conservancy Magazine, Vol 38, number 1,

Jan.- Feb.

Quesada, C., and Wallace, G., 1985, “El

Manejo de Las Cuencas Hidrographicas”

( Watershed Management), audio- visual

with booklet, CATIE, Turrialba, Costa

Rica.

United States Wilderness Act, Public Law 88-

577, 88th Congress, S.4 Sept. 3 1964.

Wallace, George, 1985, “Cuanto Vale El Agua”

( How Much Is Water Worth), audio-visual

with booklet, produced for CATIE and

Acueductos y Alcantarillados (A y A, the

National Water Utility), San Jose, Costa

Rica.

Wilderness Research Center, 1985, “Wilderness

Management - A Five Year Action Plan”,

University of Idaho, Moscow.

74
World Commission on Environment and

Development, 1987, Our Common Future,

Gro Harlem Brundtland, chairperson,

Oxford University Press, New York.

75
PRESERVATION OF NATURAL DIVERSITY:

TH E ROLE OF ECOSYSTEM REPRESENTATION

W ITH IN W ILDERNESS

George D. Davis*

ABSTRACT

Th e value of preserving th e natural

d ive rsity of th e United States’ 261 m ajor

te rrestrial ecosystem s is defined and

preservation efforts on public lands in th e

National W ild erness Preservation System

(NW PS) are review e d . One h und red and four

m ajor ecosystem s not protected in th e NW PS

are id entified and som e opportunities to

include such system s w ith th e NW PS are

d iscussed. Inclusion w ith in th e NW PS of

representative sam ples of all 261 m ajor

te rrestrial ecosystem s of th e United States is

advocate d.

INTRODUCTION

Scientists have long extolled the

importance of preserving the widest possible

spectrum of life forms. It is only in recent

years, however, that lay conservationists and

political leaders have understood that the

preservation of natural diversity may very well

be vital to the survival of the human race.

The quality of life of future generations will

benefit significantly if this generation takes

steps to ensure the preservation of portions of

all the major ecosystems represented on this

planet.

By definition, natural diversity must

include both biological diversity and a diversity

of physical environments. Biological diversity

includes both species diversity and genetic

diversity within species. Natural diversity

incorporates the physical environment within

which species interact with biological diversity.

Natural diversity is, therefore, synonymous

with ecosystem diversity. The preservation of

the widest range of natural diversity, in a

practical sense, depends on the preservation of

a full range of functioning ecosystems.

The benefits, material and esthetic, of

maximum diversity are well documented, so I

will not reiterate in detail the myriad values to

be derived from ecosystem preservation. The

literature clearly documents both the

anthropocentric and the biocentric values of

such preservation (Norton 1985; Norse and

others 1986; Randall 1985).

Advocates of wilderness should never

forget, for all the heated debate, that wilderness

preservation is a mechanism for granting future

generations optimal enjoyment of an array of

natural landscapes and ecosystems. We must

recognize, however, that wilderness protection

is but one mechanism for protecting selected

portions of our natural landscape. National

parks, nature preserves, and similar legal

reservations also play important roles in

determining what this generation will pass on

to the next.

Legal Basis

The National Forest Management Act

(16 U.S.C. 1600) speaks to the importance of

natural diversity, and throughout the Act a

regard for future generations is clearly evident.

Preserving natural diversity for future

generations is only possible by understanding

political feasibility, recognizing resource

management limitations, and respecting

scientific integrity. Natural diversity is

provided by two methods: manipulative

management and preservation management.

Both are necessary to provide a true cross

section of diversity. In this paper I will limit

myself to preservation management and, more

specifically, to the inclusion of representative

* Principal partne r, D AVIS ASSO CIATES, Ch e vre H ill Farm , W adh am s, New York .

76
samples of our naturally occurring ecosystems

in the National Wilderness Preservation

System.

Preservation management insures

diversity through the process of unrestrained

ecological processes. In forested areas it can

provide for old growth, in a dynamic steady

state condition, which recent studies (Schoen

and others 1981) have shown to be among the

most complex, diverse, and productive of all

forest age classes.

Preservation management can and should

be pursued at various scales. The biosphere

reserve program of LINESCOp is intended to

eventually contain an international network of

protected areas representing the major natural

regions of the world (UNESCO 1984). This

initiative was undertaken by ‘the International

Union for Conservation of Nature and Natural

Resources (Dasmann 1972) and adopted for

UNESCO’s biosphere reserve program

(Udvardy 1975). A research natural area

program has been administratively operative on

Federal lands in the United States since 1927

(The Nature Conservancy 1977). The

biosphere reserve program generally seeks to

preserve large areas of the world’s major

ecoregions whereas the research natural area

program incorporates areas at a more detailed

scale for specific ecological baseline purposes.

Both programs exist primarily for scientific

purposes.

Wilderness at the national level and in

the legal sense can only be created by

Congress. Furthermore, the 1964 Wilderness

Act (16 U.S.C. 1131-1136). which created the

National Wilderness Preservation System,

specifies that whereas scientific value may be a

part of the basis for wilderness classification, it

is not mandatory and, at least by inference, not

preeminent. Still, it would be difficult to

overstate the scientific and educational values

of wilderness.

Although all of the preservation methods

we have are important, I intend in this paper to

dwell on the potential role of wilderness as a

method for preserving ecological diversity for

future generations.

Defining Ecosystem - A Matter of Scale

Tansley (1935) is credited with coining

the term “ecosystem”. He used the word to

describe a “biotic community interacting with

its physical environment” (Dasmann 1972).

Thus, in the sense Tansley used the term, an

ecosystem could be readily mapped by

delineating the boundaries of any particular

community. The scientific definition of

ecosystem has since become more complex,

incorporating energy flow, soils, and

physiography. Still, the basic concept as

expressed by Tansley is of immense value to

lay persons, generalists in the natural resource

field, public policy-makers, and government

officials.

The Tansley concept allows us to view

the earth as a series of ecosystems whose

components are dependent upon one another.

Yet these ecosystems also interact. As Bailey

has pointed out, “The boundaries of

ecosystems, however, are never closed or

impermeable; they are open to transfer of

energy and materials to or from other

ecosystems” (Bailey 1982). It is possible to

develop a defined hierarchy of ecological units

of different sizes that reflects a continuum of

ecosystems. The largest is formed by the

planet Earth; examples of small ecosystems

include a narrowly limited, homogeneous stand

of vegetation or a small pond. Since

ecosystems are spatial systems, they will be

consistently inserted, or nested, into each other

(Bailey 1982).

As an aside, it is useful to note that in

choosing an appropriate definition of ecosystem

and an appropriate hierarchical classification

system, the purpose to which the definition and

resultant classification system is to be put must

be considered. When the purpose behind the

choice of an ecosystem classification scheme is

to preserve representative samples of

ecosystems, the plant and animal components

of such systems determine the minimum

critical size for reserves. Larger reserves tend

to reduce or prevent the loss of individual

species and communities (Diamond 1975;

Torborgh 1975). Recent studies by Newmark

(1987) confii this insofar as mammalian

extinctions in Western North American parks

am concerned.

77
Early effn-s at mapping ecosystems

centered around the vegetative element. For

example, Clements (Weaver and Clements

1938) described and mapped major climax

plant communities. A year later Clements

worked with animal ecologist Victor Shelford

to develop the concept of the biome, an area

defined by climax vegetation and its associated

animal life (Clements and Shelford 1939). The

biome concept is particularly useful because it

is based on readily visible species. Since it

relies on the climax vegetative type, it is most

useful in areas where human disturbance has

been minimal--areas where a wilderness

classification has not yet been forgone.

THE SECOND NATIONAL FOREST

ROADLESS AREA REVIEW AND

EVALUATION (RARE !I)

In 1977 the Forest Service, an agency of

the U.S. Department of Agriculture, undertook

a review of 62 million acres (24,800,OOO

hectares) of roadless and undeveloped lands

under its jurisdiction to determine which of

these lands should be incorporated into the

National Wilderness Preservation System

(NWPS). Early in the process the Forest

Service decided that preference would be given

in allocating roadless areas to wilderness if the

addition of the areas would increase the

diversity of the NWPS (USDA 1978a).

In its RARE II program, the Forest

Service merged two widely accepted national

ecological classifications: Bailey’s ecoregion

concept (Bailey 1976) and potential natural

vegetation (Kuchler 1966; Ewe1 and Whitmore

1973). This produced a particularly strong

system emphasizing both factors from the

physical environment such as climate and soil,

and factors of the biological environment such

as vegetation. (Vegetation generally defines

the animal life in an area.) Using this system,

the Forest Service mapped 242 distinct

ecosystems in the United States and Puerto

Rico (USDA 1978a). Refinement by Bailey

(1980) and Davis (1980, 1984, 1987) brought

the actual number to 261. While other

classification systems could be designed to

describe the vast natural diversity found on

lands administered by the Forest Service in

perhaps as few as 50 or as many as 500 basic

ecosystems, the one chosen for use by the

Forest Service provides enough detail to be

biologically significant yet broad enough to be

easily understood by lay persons.

The Bailey-Kuchler system, as it became

known, readily lends itself to further

refinement; e.g., it places little emphasis on

aquatic ecosystems. Furthermore, the small

scale (1:7,500,000) obviously omits much

on-the-ground heterogeneity. Federal Research

Natural Area programs, the Experimental

Ecological Reserve program (Institute of

Ecology 1977). and the individual States were

encouraged to refine this system to help ensure

that representative samples of the United

States’ natural heritage would be set aside for

posterity.

In evaluating diversity in the National

Wilderness Preservation System, the Forest

Service defined adequate representation of each

Bailey-Kuchler ecosystem as two or more

distinct examples of at least 400 hectares

apiece. This definition left a margin of error

for mistaken or atypical classifications. In

addition, if preservation of a nation’s basic

ecosystems is a legitimate objective, it was

recognized that the areas selected as

representative must epitomize that particular

ecosystem. In reality, of course, optimum

spatial requirements would vary with

ecosystems; 400 hectares was determined to be

only a reasonable minimum.

The Impact of RARE II on Ecosystem

Preservation in the United States

As a result of the RARE II program and

the political process of formally designating

wilderness areas, 157 of the United States’ 261

basic ecosystems are now represented in the

NWPS (Davis 1987) compared to 131 prior to

RARE II (USDA 1978b). At least 11 more

unrepresented ecosystems are in national parks

and wildlife refuges that have been

recommended for wilderness designation but

are still awaiting Congressional action.

Thirteen others are represented in national

parks not recommended for the NWPS.

Since the Bureau of Land Management

(BLM) of the U.S. Department of the Interior

has also agreed to use the Bailey-Kuchler

concept of ecosystem representation as a

78
criterion in its current wilderness studies, it is

expected that diversity within the NWPS will

be considerably increased. Because of the

Forest Service and BLM decisions to adopt

diversification of the NWPS in the United

Sates as a criterion for wilderness designation,

I estimate that the number of ecosystems

represented in the NWPS will have been

increased by 50 percent, from 131 to an

estimated 200, between 1978 and the end of

the century--if our public land managing

agencies do not lose their commitment to this

criterion,

It is anticipated that most, but not all, of

the forest and desert ecosystems in the United

States will be represented in the NWPS by the

year 2000. Unfortunately, few of the fertile

native grassland ecosystems are likely to be

represented since most of these lands are in

private ownership and lack the scenic splendor

that spurs the citizenry to seek wilderness

designations. The scientific community must

play a more active political role if truly diverse

areas are to be preserved as wilderness.

More remains to be done, but an

impressive step forward to ensure the

preservation of ecosystem diversity has been

taken in the United States.

THE NEXT STEP

Whereas the Forest Service pioneered the

concept of using ecosystem representation a

decade ago, its leadership role has since been

eclipsed. First, the Bureau of Land

Management embraced the concept and

included it as a key criterion in its ongoing

roadless area review. Then, during an

international assemblage of government

officials and scientists at the Fourth World

Wilderness Congress in September 1987, a

major initiative was advanced. Representatives

of 62 nations voted unanimously for a

resolution calling for the preservation of

“representative samples of all major ecosystems

of the world to ensure the preservation of the

full range of wilderness and biological

divenity”. * This resolution went on to request

that the International Union for Conservation

of Nature and Natural Resources (IUCN)

“appoint a task force to prepare a status report

to be presented at the Fifth and future World

Wilderness Congresses. This report should

include recommendations for the designation of

additional wilderness or similar protected areas

to expand the representation of ecosystems and

therefore preserve a wider array of biological

diversity.”

hqeanwhile the i rest Service’s

commitment in the 197’7- 1979 RARE II

period seems to have waned. Anticipated

wilderness recommendations for the Mexican

Highlands-Grams Tobosa and PalouseWheatgrass Bluegrass ecosystems did not

materialize. Forest Service support for

wilderness recommendations in the Shortgrass

Prairie-Grama Buffalo Grass, Shortgrass

Prairie-Juniper Pinyon, and Upper Gila

Mountains-Grama Galleta Steppe ecosystems

was withdrawn. Precious few national forest

management plans developed in the last decade

use ecosystem representation as a criterion for

determining wilderness recommendation.

Forest Service testimony before Congress on

proposed wilderness legislation has been

generally silent about the desirability of

increasing the diversity within the NWPS.

This silence has resulted in lost opportunities

for preserving the last known undeveloped

remnants of at least two, and likely more,

major ecosystems. Although such areas often

lack the dramatic, high country appeal that has

come to be associated with wilderness,

professional resource managers should

emphasize the importance of preserving

samples of all resources.

One question in particular needs to be

asked: Why has the Forest Service lost

interest in preserving samples of the major

ecosystems it manages while other agencies

and nations are increasingly recognizing the

great importance of doing so? The 1989

Resources Planning Act (RPA) assessment

offers an excellent opportunity for the agency

to reassert its commitment both to the

preservation of natural diversity and to the

diversification of the NWPS.

Appendix A (available from the author

upon request) lists all units of the NWPS, as

well as equivalent State wilderness systems and

national parks, by the Bailey-Kuchler

ecosystem(s) they include. In addition, this

table identifies the 80 major ecosystems within

the United States that are not yet represented

79
in any preservation-oriented system, i.e.,

NWPS, national park, State wilderness, The

1989 RPA assessment might recognize these

“missing links” and encourage all public land

managing agencies to review their undeveloped

lands for opportunities to fill these gaps in the

preservation system.

OUR LEGACY, THEIR HERITAGE

What prouder natural resource legacy

could we leave future generations and what

richer natural resource heritage could they

enjoy than a wilderness system that includes

representation of all of this nation’s major

ecosystems?

Ecosystem-representation should be

adopted as a fundamental criterion for

wilderness designation. Such action would

show that our generation cares deeply for our

heritage and for the legacy we leave for future

generations. A fundamental charge to this

generation should be to help ensure that our

children and grandchildren may know and

cherish the wonders of all our natural systems,

SPECIFIC RECOMMENDATIONS

1. Congress should be encouraged to act

on those wilderness recommendations pending

before it, particularly those of the National

Park Service and Fish and Wildlife Service that

have been awaiting action for more than a

decade.

2. The Bureau of Land Management

should be commended for using ecosystem

representation as a criterion in its wilderness

studies; such representation should be a leading

criterion when ecosystems not presently

represented in the NWPS are considered.

3. The Forest Service should reassert its

commitment both to the preservation of natural

diversity and to the diversification of the

NWPS in the 1989 RPA assessment.

4. National Forest Management plans

should be required to include a review of all

roadless areas and to recommend wilderness

designation for those that would fill an

ecosystem gap in the NWPS.

5. After a national survey to determine

which ecosystems can only be preserved by

State action, the Federal government should

encourage, support, and, as appropriate,

subsidize effective State wilderness

preservation systems that protect ecosystems

not available for preservation in the NWPS.

6. The Forest Service should use its

international influence to promote the

worldwide preservation of representative

ecosystems either through expansion and

refinement of the UNESCO biosphere reserve

program or other, more detailed, programs.

7. The Federal government and academic

institutions should continue to investigate and

refine ecosystem classifications and define

adequate spatial requirements for their

preservation as functioning units.

REFERENCES

Bailey, Robert G. 1976. Ecoregions of the

United States. USDA Forest Service,

Intermountain Region, Ogden, Utah.

Map.

Bailey, Robert G. 1980. Description of the

Ecoregions of the United States. USDA

Forest Service, Misc. Pub. 1391,

Washington, D.C. 77 pp.

Bailey, Robert G. 1982. Classification Systems

for Habitat and Ecosystems. In:

Research on Fish and Wildlife Habitat.

U.S. Environmental Protection Agency

EPA 600/8-82-022: 16-26. Washington,

D.C. 248 pp.

Clements, F.E. and V.E. Shelford. 1939.

Bioecology. John Wiley, New York.

Crumpacker, David W. 1986. Status/Trends

of US. Natural Ecosystems. Office of

Technology Assessment, U.S. Congress,

Washington, D.C. 71 pp.

Dasmann, Raymond F. 1972. Towards a

System for Classifying Natural Regions

of the World and Their Representation

by National Parks and Reserves. In:

Biological Conservation 4(4): 247-255.

80
Davis, George D. 1980. The Case for

Wilderness Diversity. American Forests

86(8): 24-27, 60-63.

Davis, George D. 1984. Natural Diversity for

Future Generations: The Role of

Wilderness. Pp. 141-154 In: Natural

Diversity in Forest Ecosystems,

Proceedings of the Workshop, (Eds. J.L.

Cooley and J. H. Cooley) Institute of

Ecology, University of Georgia, Athens,

Georgia. 290 pp.

Davis, George D. 1987. Ecosystem

Representation as a Criterion for World

Wilderness Designatiorh Wild Wings

Foundation, c/o DAVIS ASSOCIATES,

Chevre Hill Farm, Wadhams, NY 12990.

86 PP.

Diamond, J. M. 1975. The Island Dilemma:

Lessons of Modem Biogeographical

Studies for the Design of Nature

Reserves. In: Biological Conservation

(7): pp. 129-146.

Ewel, J.J. and J.L. Whitmore. 1973. The

Ecological Life Zones of Puerto Rico

and the U.S. Virgin Islands. USDA

Forest Service, Research Paper ITF-18,

Rio Piedras, Puerto Rico. 72 pp.

Hendee, John C., George H. Stankey and

Robert C. Lucas; 1978; Wilderness

Management; USDA Forest Service

Misc. Publ. 1365.

Institute of Ecology. 1977. Experimental

Ecological Reserves: A Proposed

National Network. U.S. Government

Printing Office 038-000-00321-6,

Washington, D.C. 40 pp.

Kuchler, A.W. 1966. Potential Natural

Vegetation (Map). National Atlas of the

United States: pp. 89-92. USDI,

Geological Survey, Washington, DC.

The Nature Conservancy; 1977; Preserving Our

Natural Heritage, Vol. 1, Federal

Activities; USGPO.

Newmark, William D. 1987. A Land-Bridge

Island Perspective on Mammalian

Extinctions in Western North American

Parks. In: Nature 325 (29): pp. 430-432.

Norse, Elliott A., K.L. Rosenbaum, D.S.

Wilcove, B.A. Wilcox, W.H. Romme,

D.W. Johnson and M.L. Stout for The

Ecological Society of America. 1986.

Conserving Biological Diversity *in Our

National Forests. The Wilderness

Society, Washington, D.C. 116 pp.

Norton, Bryan G. 1985. Values and Biological

Diversity. Contract Paper No. 2, Office

of Technology Assessment, U.S.

Congress. Washington, D.C. 38pp.

Randall, Alan. 1985. An Economic Perspective

of the Valuation of Biological Diversity.

Contract Paper No. 1, Office of J/’

Technology Assessment, U.S. Congress,

Washington, D.C. 40 pp.

Schoen, John W., O.C. Wallmo and Matthew

D. Kirchhoff; 1981; Wildlife - Forest

Relationships: Is A Reevaluation of

Old-growth Necessary?; Transactions,

46: 531-544. 46th North American

Wildlife and Natural Resources

Conference.

Tansley, A.G. 1935. The Use and Abuse of

Vegetational Concepts and Terms. In:

Ecology (16): 284-307.

Terborgh, J. 1975. Fauna1 Equilibria and the

Design of Wildlife Preserves. pp.369-380

in: Tropical Ecological Systems: Trends

in Terrestrial and Aquatic Research (F.

Golley and E. Medina, editors).

Springer-Verlag, New York, NY.

Udvardy, M.D.F. 1975. A Classification of the

Biogeographical Provinces of the World.

IUCN Occasional Papaer No. 18,

Morges, Switzerland. 49 pp.

United National Educational Scientific and

Cultural Organization (UNESCO). 1984.

Action Plan-for Biosphere Reserves. In:

Nature and Resources (XX) 4.

U.S. department of Agriculture, Forest Service.

1978a. Roadless Area Review and

Evaluation (RARE II) Draft

Environmental Statement 78-04. USDA

81
Forest Service, Washington, D.C. 112 pp.

and 2 maps.

U.S. Department of Agricuhe, Forest Service.

1978b. RARE II National Analysis.

Updated mimeo. USDA Forest Service,

Washington, D.C.

Weaver, J.E. and F.E. Clements. 1938. Plant

Ecology, 2nd ed. McGraw-Hill, New

York. 601 pp.

ENDNOTES

1. From Resolution 25 adopted by th e Fourth W orld W ild e rness Congress at D e nve r and Estes

Park , CO, Septem b er 12- 18, 19 87.

82
W ILDERNESS AND TH E PROTECTION

OF GENETIC DIVERSITY

Christine Schonewald-Cox and Thomas J. Stohlgren*

ABSTRACT

M e rely “designating” areas or

establish ing law s does not guarantee th e

protection of biological and genetic d ive rsity.

Sim ilarly, it does not guarantee th e

preservation of naturally functioning

ecosystem s. To ach ieve protection w e m ust

reassess th e goals, objectives and uniq ue

contributions of w ild e rness in preserving

biological and genetic d ive rsity. W e m ust

study social and econom ic im pacts on

protection of w ild e rness areas. W e m ust

evaluate the relationsh ips betw e en w ild erness

areas and adjacent h abitats/land uses,

including critical h abitats not y et protecte d.

W e need also to establish jirm ly th e

advantages of designating w ild e rness areas.

“Each species is a storehouse of

irreplaceable genetic material

whose loss we cannot afford.”

- Dasmann 1978

We would like to begin by discussing

protection, the value of our specific types of

genetic diversity, and our concept of the

importance of wilderness to the protection of

genetic and biological diversity. In response to

the editors’ request, we will emphasize

threatened and endangered species and genetic

diversity of species yet undiscovered but of

potential value to humankind.

Maybe it was foresight that when

Yellowstone National Park was dedicated in

1872, its purpose was as a “reservation of its

territory from private occupancy so that it may

remain in unrestricted freedom.” Though it

may be common knowledge to most field

managers, the conservation research community

is only now beginning to appreciate that

humans pose a significant if not the greatest

threat to the survival of most species. This

includes the encroachment of rapidly growing

human populations that are placing increased

pressures on their habitats (Dahlberg and others

1985, Diamond 1987).

The National Wilderness Preservation

System (NWPS) has undoubtedly provided a

structural framework for preventing rapid

human encroachment and habitat destruction

within the boundaries of wilderness areas

(Reed 1988). Along with the designation of

wilderness areas, however, comes the challenge

to successfully develop a management

framework. This framework should (1) protect

naturally functioning ecosystems and (2)

actively protect biological and genetic diversity

within wilderness areas (Hendee and others

1978, Freeman 1986).

Definitions of terms used throughout the

text follow. Unlike “biological diversity” that

includes all the diversity comprising life,

“genetic diversity” is a specialized term

referring to the genetic variation existing at or

below the species level, within and between

populations.

The Endangered Species Act defines an

endangered species as one that is close to

extinction throughout all or a significant part

of its range. A threatened species is one m

to become endangered in the future. In

preserving genetic diversity, we must also be

concerned with “rare” species. Norris (1987)

defines a numerically rare species as one with

a few individuals, and a geographically rare

species as one that are abundant in a local area

but not found away from that small geographic

area. The latter may possess unique physical

and/or behavioral characteristics worthy of

preservation despite the lack of preservation

status given threatened and endangered species.

* Research Scientist and Ecologist respectively at the Coope rative National Par- h Resources Studies Unit,

Institute of Ecology, Unive rsity of California, D avis, CA.

83
PROTECTION OF BIOLOGICAL AND

GENETIC DIVERSITY

While some species are rare for reasons

such as low density or restriction to one

locality, and some species face natural

extinction, most of contemporary extinction is

at least anthropogenic. Space limitations,

pollution, and acid rain may be indirect causes

of decline, whereas. direct anthropogenic effects

such as poaching are more obvious contributors

to numerical declines. If we wish to slow and

halt the loss of species, to what values can we

appeal to insure dedication of land and funds

for their protection? Myers (1987) and others

(Oldfield 1984, Prescott-Allen and PrescottAllen 1986) have attempted to itemize the

values of nature to_humankind. We feel it

preferable not to have to do this. Esthetics and

cultural values are not generally shared,

however. Fortunately, within our culture we

are seeing some large-scale changes. A 1985

Harris poll, for example, showed the concept

of “value” in the U.S. has changed with 63

percent of Americans placing a greater priority

on “environmental cleanup” than on economic

growth (Harris 1985). Although the issue of

values is not resolved, we can appeal to values

at the economic and cultural (recreational and

esthetic, at least) levels.

Objective of Protection

What is the objective of threatened and

endangered species protection? At the very

least it is only to avert an inevitable extinction.

At the most, it is to maintain or increase

species numbers to viability in the face of

current ecological and evolutionary changes.

While major efforts are concentrated on the

subject of viability, there is no single formula

that works generically across species.

Requirements for viability are variable between

localities and within and between species. (For

a recent treatment of the subject see Soule

1987.) Instead, it is the demographic

estimates, ranges of desired growth, and

estimated genetic variability that can be

provided to synthesize estimates of viability

requirements. Some progress is being made in

this area for spotted owl and grizzly bear

(Bolger and others 1986). Restoring viability

of populations and species should be the

objective of protection of genetic diversity.

This would imply the ability to restore

resilience of a population to withstand

ecological pressures, natural selection and

random (unpredictable) fluctuations in local

survival. (See Shaffer 1981, Schonewald-Cox

and others 1983, and Harris 1986 for

treatments of these subjects.)

Accomplishing Protection

Protection can be accomplished for the

present by a variety of methods in-habitat and

out-of-habitat (used for in situ and ex situ,

respectively). In-habitat we have the

opportunity of setting aside sufficient acreage

of suitable land, preferably optimal habitat, that

is well protected. Enforcement and

management should be sufficiently strong to

restore the population (species) to short-term

stability, at least. Successive efforts towards

protection of genetic diversity, such as

protection by law with the Endangered Species

Act, Migratory Bird Act and a potential

biodiversity act, can increase the long-term

survival probability for focal populations and

peripheral fragments. These laws act together

with land management, modification of

behavior, and species management to achieve

protection.

Out-of-habitat protection can work to

insulate a gene pool from loss of habitat and

exploitation. Reproduction can be controlled

as can environment and competition or

predation. However, limited space, food and

medical care affect the evolution of the

species. Under such evolving conditions,

expanded measures of germplasm storage and

concurrent in-habitat protection can counteract

the inadvertent changes in genetic diversity.

They are also high-tech and comparatively

expensive management techniques, such as

embryo storage and transfer. These out-ofhabitat techniques can also act favorably to

increase the effective population size, shorten

generation time, and counteract stochastic

events at the demographic and catastrophic

levels, and are therefore essential to protection

in general.

84
HOW WILDERNESS CAN PROTECT

DIVERSITY

Wilderness designation may help protect

biological and genetic diversity. Wilderness

areas are usually greater than 5000 acres (Reed

1988). Large size wilderness confers

protection at an in-habitat scale and permits

species to express behavioral and other

phenotypic variation not otherwise possible. It

may buffer against boundary intrusion by

impacts, and facilitate natural forces to act on

large scales. Conversely, it is likely to soften

conflicts posing threats to surrounding land

ownership. I

There are costs resulting from this

preference for large+5000 acre) size.

Administrative decisions regarding protection

may be difficult to influence or enforce. For

example, day-today support for monitoring

species may not be available; complacence can

exist undetected; sampling may be forcibly

localized in planning and management and

may, therefore, miss some genetic diversity

(including ecotypes) existing in non-sampled

parcels.

Preference for large size can cause us to

miss inclusion in the wilderness system of

important habitats, such as in riparian zones,

natural islands, urban parks and corridors and

nodes in agricultural areas. Some areas are not

necessarily best protected in single, large

reserves (Quinn and Robinson, 1987).

Human Value of Genetic Diversity

We may assume that most endangered

species have been identified and their listing

lobbied for because someone knew of their

rarity and proposed a listing based partially on

(1) esthetics, (2) function of the species in the

ecosystem, (3) recreation, (4) curiosity and (5)

the notion that to value the species was seen as

a reflection of broader values. Regardless of

the motivating initiative for proposed listing,

those involved certainly sensed responsibility

(whether to the species, to themselves, to

human kind in general or all of these). They

likely sensed the irreversibility of the loss if it

were to occur, and likely felt a desire to

awaken others regarding the potential loss.

We have perhaps the greatest species

diversity in the humid tropics. But, we have

no guarantee that the impact of discovery is

greatest just from tropical species. The

variability we seek may be different major

phenotypes rather than taxa. Different

phenotypes within species respond differently

to “polarized” natural selection extremes across

a species’ range.

Economic Value of Genetic Diversity

In 1979, Arthur found that public support

for maintaining species diversity was based

largely on ecological and existence values.

Driver and others (1987) maintain that few

published articles on wilderness preservation

have contributed to the appraisal of economic

benefits of diversity. They note that while

only a small percentage of species are found in

designated wilderness, and their numbers are

comparatively small, even their future benefits

am unknown.

Questioned about the value of genetic

diversit

uses, ox

, what have others said? The range of

en including travel, pharmacy,

toothpaste, or bread made from stoneground

grain, reflects our dependence on diversity

(Myers 1987) The value of genetic diversity,

directly related to the quality of life, is more

than an inference. The replacement costs for

some species (including genes), were they to

disappear, would go beyond our affordable

monetary ranges. The fact is the value of a

species is more than just quantitative. This is

hard for some to reconcile, unfortunately, with

the concept of value.

Affixing Potential Value to Diversity

How does one defend the value of

species of yet undiscovered cultural or

economic value? As mentioned earlier, we

have not yet come across any means to assess

the broad array of values. If there were an easy

answer, our methods of proactive conservation

would be farther ahead, better received and

more soundly supported. There is yet no

failsafe path for making such assessments.

(Discovery does not necessarily occur where

the greatest investments have been made.)

Consider wheat, barley, oats, alfalfa, and rice.

85
Just these five species represent the majority of

the world’s nutritious consumption. It would

have been hard to predict that these few weedy

species could be so vital to human survival in

both temperate and tropical regions. These do

not represent great species diversity. They do,

however, represent enormous genetic

manipulation, investment, and learning. They

represent contrasting values related to profit,

trade, treaties, and good will that, taken as a

category of species, represent a keystone to

human survival.

Genetic diversity may increase in value

at an entirely different level, such as in

photography for commercials and magazines,

film making, and television tourism. In these,

the diversity and its value is contained in the

ambience, the poetic;, daring, affectionate, and

generally esthetic components of nature. The

diversity contributed by genes to this use is too

complex for us to dissect here. In contrast,

when something is awry and significant

components of diversity are lost, the value

judgement changes. Who could have guessed

one or two hundred years ago that someone

would lose sleep over condors, dusky seaside

sparrows, or African “killer” bees? It works in

both directions. How many are anxious today

to find whether something can be done with

the especially potent antibiotics secreted

naturally by an obscure toad? In the case of

the bees, the quality or value of genetic and

biological diversity can be undermined by

inadvertent changes in the constitution of gene

pools and the natural selection and ecological

processes that follow.

THE CONTEXT IN WHICH

WILDERNESS EXISTS

When we are faced with evaluating

wilderness, how much of it exists is only part

of the assessment. Several other factors are

appropriate. These have to do with locality,

biome, geographic context, regulations, uses,

and adjacent area interface (purpose of this

volume).

The wilderness area occurs in a

geographic/landscape context. It may have one

of many possible shapes, most likely defined

by things other than the limits of the

ecosystem (Schonewald-Cox 1988). While the

wilderness area cannot contain roads, it may be

bordered by them. Adjacent land use may

involve a policy of fire suppression in contrast

to regulated burning in a wilderness area, as

with Sequoia and Kings Canyon National Parks

(Bancroft and Partin 1979). Moreover, the

landscape may include nearby rural or urban

development. In the case of rural

development, mining, industry, agriculture, and

rural towns may be close to the border; in the

case of the urban development, the nearest

major city and associated industries may be

spreading rapidly to the borders of the

wilderness (as is the case with Saguaro

National Monument and the city of Phoenix).

Internal Control Over Wilderness

From the internal perspective, the

wilderness area is managed and regulations are

enforced to achieve protection. Enforcement

may take on many aspects depending upon the

regulations, what is and is not permitted within

the geographic limits of the wilderness area

(Schonewald-Cox 1988). It may be that

numerous visitors come, and regulations are set

down to limit the number of people that can

enter the wilderness at any one time.

Wilderness permits may assist in regulating the

numbers. Perhaps enforcement may entail use

of backcountry rangers or superintendents who

check for incorrect uses of camp sites, illegal

hunting, or illegal specimen collections.

Management may entail manipulation of

certain biological features to preserve a series

of natural features that would otherwise

disappear for lack of space or other resources

(such as fire or succession). Management may

just involve picking up after visitors to the

area, and monitoring the changes in species

and physical environment.

A National Park Service Example

Present NPS policy (USDI National Park

Service Management Policies 1978) states that

“the ecosystem will constitute the unit for

resources management purposes in natural

areas of the National Park Service” and that

generally this is confined to one community

type. The NPS, however, recognizes the “key

to successful management will be found in

86
identifying man’s adverse influences, correcting

them, and properly regulating his future

activities.”

It is easy to assume that by “maintaining

and restoring natural processes” we are also

maintaining primeval genetic and biological

diversity. The term “restoring” is loosely

interpreted. Whether or not contemporary

peoples of North America had interfered with

natural processes, there would still be

evolutionary shifts in both biological and

genetic diversity. Also, since we did interfere

in most cases (in some causing irreversible

impacts) (Freeman 1986), we cannot assume

restorations are at all similar to the effects of

that same process at an earlier time. For

example, 60 years of tire suppression in a

naturally high fire frequency area (i.e., every

20 years) may have resulted in the loss of

viability in fiie ephemeral herbs such as lotus.

Restoring the “process” of fire cannot restore

the viability of seeds, and lower genetic

diversity and perhaps lower species diversity

will result. Therefore, movements to recreate

the past can be easily misguided. Adapting to

modem and future selection with existing

diversity might be considered the priority

challenge. Restoring diversity lost to the

system may mean restoring genotypes no

longer capable of surviving current local

selection.

IMPACTS

Each wilderness area may suffer impacts

from inside or outside regardless of a

responsible agency and appropriate policies.

These impacts include tourism, acid rain, air

pollution, water pollution, and the propagation

of alien species. Those listed are among the

most widespread impacts likely to affect most

regions of the country.

Internal Uses

Tourism, the byproduct of development

and beauty, brings additional people to the

adjacent habitat where they rest, and

subsequently into the wilderness area to

participate in the wilderness experience. The

latter may be innocent in intent but may also

create pressures on a small area within a short

period, if only by trampling and crowding out

wildlife.

By contrast, use by visitors is likely to

communicate the existence, value, and purpose

of the ama to others who travel there and to

those who live near the wilderness. These

values are likely to be passed on further. To

this extent, the wilderness area serves as a

communication beacon pointing out the values

of such natural areas. Their shared use brings

communal value to an area. To communicate

a sense of value and to pass on this to others

still is very important to the survival of

wilderness and its constituent parts. This is. as

with species preservation mentioned earlier, in

the realm of esthetics; it is increasingly

important to this country.

Uses of Adjacent Habitat

Adjacent lands can contribute to

protection, recreation, residences, and economic

growth. In contributing to economic growth,

the areas adjacent to wilderness are likely to be

used for industry (as for mines, dams and

electricity, forestry and factories), urban

development and recreation, and for living

areas; these may be compact as with

developments of houses and apartments, or

may be low density housing. They may serve

for urban development, becoming crowded and

expensive. The lands may be used for

agriculture, including crop dusting or irrigation

systems. This may transfigure the land, as

may urbanization. as in Phoenix, Miami, and

Los Angeles.

Impacts and Genetic Diversity

Genes are immediately responsive to

pollution and other stresses. Whether

population and species flourish or become

extinct will be determined by their ability to

cope with the stresses. If some individuals

carry the genetic tolerance for new changes,

these will likely increase in frequency, while

others less fortunate may become dormant or

die out. Stress-induced changes may

demonstrate characters or bring to light species

or genotypes of particular commercial or

esthetic interest. One can predict with

certainty that diversity that is lost is not likely

to be of any use regardless of its previous

87
potential. Therefore, land use in and adjacent

to wilderness areas needs to be planned and

monitored, and additional support is needed for

cooperation and long-term inter-institutional

planning and monitoring.

While the focus of preservation may be

at the geographic level (i.e., to protect and

maintain representative habitats or ecosystems)

and will automatically include much diversity,

this is not all inclusive. Benefits can be

derived from protection at the species or

population level; such as has been done for

threatened and endangered species. Keystone

species and ecotypes are still overlooked as

justification for establishment of protection

despite their dominating roles in ecological

processes. -.

In establishing our goals, we should

assess continually the viability of all focal

species in our care. This should include

evaluations of population trends both within

and in areas adjacent to wilderness areas.

Proposed changes in land use and external

threats such as pollution, alien species,

invasions, etc. need consistent and thorough

evaluations. We should recognize and follow

through with the support to both research and

resources management.

Problems of Protecting Genetic Diversity in

Wilderness

Too little attention is given to how

wilderness areas are designed (recognizing that

in most instances there is little leeway for

choice). How will protection expectations be

matched to the size, complexity, and protection

investment? How will the management fit the

objectives of the agency, and of wilderness

systems in general? Are management and

research support sufficient to achieve

objectives? What will be done to ensure

cooperation, maintenance, and public

development of respect and appreciation for the

wilderness area? How can predispose our

network of wilderness areas to protect genetic

and biological diversity while, at the same

time, furthering international contributions

towards the protection of biodiversity and the

biosphere in general?

As for protection of species of yet

undetected value, or protecting diversity for

future generations, we do not know what future

generations will cherish. We can take only our

present values and carry these forward. So it

is especially clear that we need to identify

them, bearing in mind their implications for

protection and human development.

Unique Features of Wilderness

The title “wilderness area” is consistent

throughout the United States within and

between agencies. While the specific mandates

of agencies vary considerably, there are some

commonalities that are apparent in designated

wilderness. One of the interesting

characteristics of wilderness areas is that they

assimilate the collective benefits of their

agencies. They represent different scopes of

protection. They have different administrations

protecting them and therefore experience

different management techniques. This

provides the inter-agency wilderness system

with an insurance against overdevelopment and

exposure promoted by a single agency. There

is an associated spreading of risks. The

interagency network provides a supra-structure

of management that will ensure that some form

of wilderness protection persists into the future.

Besides offering us an opportunity to

learn different long-term effects of adjacent

land uses and management, the effort to protect

wilderness offers the opportunity to create

cooperative linkage between agencies. This

could strengthen the quality of wilderness

management and of cooperation between

agencies for other protection activities.

Unique Contributions of Wilderness

Wilderness gives us several intrinsically

variable strategies for putting land aside at an

intermediate scale.

The unique contributions of wilderness to

protecting genetic diversity, whether this

constitutes threatened and endangered species

or genes, is the geographic core. Wilderness is

likely to be the least disturbed of a network of

public and private lands set aside for

protection. Wilderness areas have the potential
to function like core areas of biosphere

reserves that serve as bench marks of

environmental change, as reservoirs of

diversity, and as focal points for protection.

Additional protected lands surrounding the

wilderness core areas can, by serving multiple

purposes, be directly responsive to local human

needs without compromising the buffer

properties they confer to the core area or

wilderness. The Biosphere Reserve model of

protection is respected globally. Following this

model enhances the value of Wilderness

designation.

There is a disproportionate shortage of

wilderness representing North central

grasslands and Northeastern forest. As Reed

(1988) points out, it may not be the additions

as much as the modifications of management

of wilderness areas that we may witness in the

coming years. How do we direct this

protection and management to increase or at

least project the current value of wilderness

areas into the future? It is easy to see from

the U.S. Geological Survey map that

wilderness areas increase in size inversely to

the colonization sequence of the United States.

Land cannot be requisitioned from dense

landscapes, but small wilderness areas will

have to be managed cooperatively in networks

of nodes and corridors up and down the

Eastern and in the agrarian States. Where

wilderness areas are small, we may have to

settle for more humble objectives of protecting

species and communities at a level appropriate

to the size of the system offered (SchonewaldCox 1983, Salwasser and others 1987). While

it may not change our expectations for

herbaceous species, it may change them for

large or medium sized vertebrates.

RECOMMENDATIONS

1. Wilderness areas require funds

specifically designated for repeated inventories

and monitoring of biological diversity. Genetic

diversity should be routinely examined for

selected species in the course of monitoring

activity. Selected species should include

keystone, threatened/endangered, environmental

indicator and popular species and their

ecotypes.

2. Funded research programs need to be

dedicated to the ecology, demographics,

behavior, genetic variability, and viability of

focal species. These programs require increased

inter-institutional cooperation and collaboration.

3. Specific proportions of annual funding

and long-term funding of wilderness areas

should be dedicated to the synthesis of

information regarding wilderness areas and

biodiversity/genetic diversity.

4. Continued attention must be given to

external threats (i.e., anthropogenic air

pollution, global warming, CO, increase, alien

species invasion, etc.). Management practices

such as use of prescribed fire, handling of

visitors, habitat rehabilitation, etc. in wilderness

areas and adjacent lands must also be

scrutinized.

5. Increased information is needed on the

relation of human behavior to protection of

biological and genetic diversity. Wilderness

areas provide an excellent focus, and should be

asked to contribute to our knowledge in this

subject.

6. Scientists in the conservation-related

fields should be encouraged to provide

sustained guidance to wilderness administrators

and field managers of adjacent lands on the

protection of biological and genetic diversity.

7. Wilderness areas should not be viewed

as single protected isolates. They should

function cooperatively both nationally and

internationally in habitat protection.

89
REFERENCES Freeman, J. 1986. The parks as genetic

islands. National Parks 60( l-2): 12-17.

Althur, L.M. 1979. The esthetic value of

wildlife: perceptions of the American

public and sportsmen. In: Daniels,

Terry C.; Zube, Ervin H.; Driver, B.L.,

tech. coords. Assessing amenity resource

values. General Technical Report RM68. Fort Collins, CO: U.S. Department

of Agriculture, Forest Service, Rocky

Mountain Forest and Range Experiment

Station; 1979:32-34.

Bancroft, W.L. and W.A. Partin. 1979. Fire

Management Plan, Sequoi and Kings

Canyon National Parks. National Park

Service. Three Rivers, CA.

Bolger, D.T., C.C. Biehl, M. Sorice, and M.

Gilpin. 1986. Estimation population

size for the Yellowstone grizzly bear

population: effects of non-poisson

family size distribution and breeding sex

ratio. Pp 3-16. In: Proceedings of the

Conference on Science in the National

Parks. Fort Collins, CO. July 13-16,

1986.

Dahlberg, K.A., M.S. Soroos, A.T. Feraru, J.E.

Hat-f and B.T. Trout. 1985. Environment

and the Global Arena: Actors, Values,

Policies and Futures. Duke University

Press, Durham, N.C., p. 95.

Dasmann, R. 1978. “Wildlife and

Ecosystems.” p. 18-27. In Brokaw, H.P.,

ed. Wildlife and America. U.S.

Eopmment Printing Office, Washington,

. .

Diamond, J.M., K.D. Bishop, and S.V. Balen.

1987. Bird survival in an isolated Javan

woodland: island or mirror? Cons. Biol.

1(2):132-142.

Driver, B.L., R. Nash and G. Haas. 1987.

Wilderness benefits: a state of the

knowledge review. Pp. 294-319, In:

Proceedings National Wilderness

Conference: Issues, State of Knowledge,

Future Decisions. R.C. Lucas (Compiler)

USDA Gen. Tech. Rep. INT-220.

Harris, L. 1985. Current public perceptions,

attitudes and desires on natural resources

management. Transactions of the 50th

North American Wildlife and Natural

Resource Conference. Washington DC:

Wildlife Management Institute.

Harris, CD. 1986. The fragmented forest:

island biogeography theory and the

preservation of biological diversity, Univ.

of Chicago Press, Chicago, IL.

Hendee, John C., George H. Stankey, and

Robert C. Lucas. 1978. Wilderness

Management Handbook, U.S. Forest

Service Miscellaneous Publication No.

1365.

Myers, N. 1987. Not Far Afield: U.S.

Interests and the Global Environment.

World Resources Institute Report No.

S786. Washington, D.C.

Norris, L.L. 1987. Uniform Appearance? Yes.

Uniform terms? Not yet. Park Science

8(1):6.

Oldfield, M.L. 1984. The value of conserving

genetic resources. USDI, National Park

Service, Washington DC.

Prescott-Allen, C. and Prescott-Allen R. 1986.

The fist resource: wild species in the

North American economy. Yale

University Press, New Haven, CT.

Quinn, J.F., and G.R. Robinson. 1987. The

effects of experimental subdivision on

flowering plant species diversity in a

California annual grassland. J. Ecol.

75:837-856.

Reed, Patrick C. 1989. The National

Wilderness Preservation System: The

First 23 Years and Beyond (this volume).

Salwasser, H., C.M. Schonewald-Cox, and R.J.

Baker. 1987. The role of interagency

cooperation in managing for viable

populations. In: M.E. Soule (ed.) Viable

populations. Cambridge Univ. Press,

Cambridge, U.K.

90
Schonewald-Cox, C.M. 1988. Boundaries in

the protection of nature reserves;

translating multi-disciplinary knowledge

into practical conservation. Bioscience

(In Press).

Schonewald-Cox, C.M., S.M. Chambers, B.

MacBryde and L. Thomas. (eds.) 1983.

Genetics and conservation. Benjamin

Cumming, Menlo Park, CA.

Shaffer, M.L. 1981. Minimum population

sixes for species conservation.

Bioscience 31:131-134.

Soule, M.E. 1987. ViabIe populations.

Cambridge Univ. Press, Cambridge, U.K.

(In Press). L.

USDI, National Park Service. 1978.

Management Policies Handbook. Part 2.

pp. 7-8. National Park Service,

Washington, D.C.

91
CULTURAL RESOURCES

AND W ILDERNESS

Loretta Neuman and Kathleen M. Reinburg*

ABSTRACT

Th is paper discusses issues of w ild e rness

m anagem ent and cultural resource protection

on Fede ral lands, based on th e d irections and

auth orities contained in fede ral preservation

law s, th e W ild e rness Act, and agency

auth orities and reguh z tions. Th e capabilities,

opportunities and constraints of w ild e rness for

th e appreciation and preservation of h istorical

and preh istorical sites and artifacts are

exam ine d . Alth ough conflicts m ay som etim es

occur, w e believe th at th e goals of natural and

cultural resource m anagem ent in w ild e rness

areas are com patible and can be m utually

b eneficial. Prope r planning and policies for

dealing w ith cultural resources in w ild e rness

areas m ay need legislation to be efectuate d.

INTRODUCTION

All Federal land managing agencies,

regardless of their specific missions or

mandates, are required to protect the cultural

resources on their lands--archaeological sites as

well as historic structures and artifacts. This

duty has become increasingly recognized since

the mid 1960’s, with enactment of major

environmental and preservation legislation.

In particular, two landmark laws were

enacted that had a profound impact on the way

that agencies in the Departments of Interior

and Agriculture manage their natural and

cultural resources. The Wilderness Act, signed

into law September 3, 1964, established the

National Wilderness Preservation System. It

provided a process to identify, designate and

protect areas of undeveloped Federal land

which retain their “primeval character and

influence, without permanent improvements or

human habitation” and which are “protected

and managed so as to preserve (their) natural

conditions.”

Two years later, the National Historic

Preservation Act was enacted on October 11,

1966. It created the National Register of

Historic Places maintained by the Secretary of

the Interior and established the Advisory

Council on Historic Preservation. Section 106

of the Act requires Federal agencies to take

into account the effects of undertakings on

historic properties and to give the Advisory

Council an opportunity to comment. Section

110 of the NHPA (added by Congress in 1980)

directs federal agencies to take responsibility

for preserving historic properties they own or

control; to locate, inventory, and nominate to

the Secretary of the Interior properties that

appear to qualify for the National Register; and

to carry out their programs and projects in

accordance with the purposes of the NHPA.

All of these requirements are in addition

to those contained in the National

Environmental Policy Act, which requires

agencies, among other things, to prepare an

environmental impact statement on any major

actions that significantly affect the human

environment. In 1979 a separate Act was

established to specifically help protect cultural

resources on federal lands--the Archaeological

Resources Protection Act (ARPA). The Act

provides for a system of permits to excavate or

remove archaeological resources, prohibits

nonpermitted activities and contains civil and

criminal penalties for violations.

While these Acts were well intended as a

means of protecting important resources, their

interpretation by Federal agencies have often

created conflicts with regard to the

management of cultural resources in proposed

and designated wilderness areas.

* Vice -President for Cons ervation, Environm ent, and H istoric Preservation and Director of

Arch aeological Program s respectively, Foresigh t Science and Tech nology, W ash ington, D C.

9 2
Some agencies initially took a very

“purist” approach. They attempted to eliminate

from consideration areas which contained

manmade resources, even historic ones, as

incompatible with “primeval” wilderness,

despite the fact that the standards of the

Wilderness Act provide for a more generous

interpretation. A later issue was whether the

full range of historic preservation activities--

inventory, evaluation and excavation--were

allowed by the Wilderness Act and, if so, the

extent to which limited agency resources

should be spent on such activities.

This paper will examine these and other

issues relating to wilderness management and

cultural resource protection on Federal lands

managed by the Forest Service in the U.S.

Department of Agriculture. The Forest Service

has the longest track record relating to these

issues and manages the largest number of

wilderness units of any Federal agency. It is

second only to the National Park Service in

wilderness acreage.’ The issues relating to the

management of cultural resources in national

forest wilderness areas are similar to those of

other Federal agencies and many of the

recommendations relating to them are

applicable to other agencies, such as the

Bureau of Land Management and Fish and

Wildlife Service and even to the National Park

Service.

CONFLICTS BETWEEN WILDERNESS

AND CULTURAL RESOURCES

For several decades, federal mangers

have been grappling with the question of how

to best integrate cultural resource management

into wilderness settings. Among the major

issues are the following:

* Whether the language referring to the

absence of evidence of man in section 2(c) of

the Wilderness Act includes historic properties

and archaeological sites and to what extent this

language is modified by the acknowledgement

of “historical value” in the definition of

wilderness under the same section and in the

uses of wilderness under Section 4(b).

* Whether historic and prehistoric structures

should be allowed to remain in wilderness if

they have no administrative function;

* Whether designation of a wilderness area

constitutes an adverse effect on cultural

resources and requires compliance with Section

106 procedures, especially if restoration or

maintenance of historic sites were not allowed

and they were thereby subject to deterioration

or removal.

* And, the age-old question of whether cultural

resources (and attendant management activities)

add to, conflict with or detract from

wilderness.

In examining these and related issues, it

is significant to point out that the Wilderness

Act does more than merely mention “historical

value” as contributing to wilderness. Section

2(c) of the Act defines wilderness as an area

that “generally appears to have been affected

primarily by the forces of nature, with the

unnoticeable

imprint of man

” (emphasis added). The Act does

’s work m

not state that the area must be pristine with no

evidence of human activity (Wilderness Society

1984).

In terms of on-the-ground cultural

resource management, however, the Wilderness

Act is less specific. Section 4(b) directs

agencies to administer a designated wilderness

area “for such other purposes for which it may

have been established as also to preserve its

wilderness character.” Section 4(c) simply

states that activities which could have negative

impacts on wilderness (such as temporary

roads, motor vehicles, and motorized

equipment) may be undertaken only “as

necessary to meet minimum requirements for

the administration of the area for the purposes

of this Act...” No mention is made of the types

of activities that would otherwise be carried

out for cultural resource management purposes

on non-wilderness lands nor is any direction

provided as to whether these activities are

allowed or precluded in wilderness.

Most of the guiding legislation for

federal agency implementation of the

Wilderness Act fails to acknowledge this issue.

For example, the Forest Service’s National

Forest Management Act, is silent on the

93
matter.2 Nor is any mention of wilderness

included in the relevant preservation legislation

(NHPA, ARPA etc.) As a result, most

agencies have been ambiguous and often

inconsistent on how to deal with cultural

resources in wilderness areas.

Some forest managers have taken a

hands-off attitude or, at best, have assumed

that the mere inclusion of an historic property

in wilderness (especially an archaeological site

which is underground and generally not

visible) will be enough to protect the site.

Some have concluded that cultural resources in

wilderness can be managed in much the same

way as they are in other areas. Exceptions

include non-motorized methods of treatment

and a focus on the natural processes (allowing

deterioration of non-significant properties, for

example).

Clearly, many professional wilderness

managers and cultural resource professionals

believe that wilderness designation does not

mean that human activities and the remains of

these activities will not occur in these areas

(Peters 1987). In Minnesota at the Superior

National Forest, for example, some of the best

examples of turn of the century logging camps

are in designated wilderness areas.

Furthermore, wilderness does not mean

that the area is in its original, unaltered state.

Many of these areas have undergone significant

alterations. “Wilderness,” as used in this

context, is a legal term defined by an Act of

Congress. It is not merely an esthetic

description of a state of nature. Any close

reading of the Wilderness Act and related

legislation shows that Congress did intend for

cultural resources to be included in designated

wilderness areas. The challenge, therefore, is

to determine how best these resources can be

managed in ways that are compatible with

preserving wilderness values.

FOREST SERVICE GUIDELINES

All federal land managing agencies have

agency regulations or manuals which deal at

least in part with cultural resource management

on their lands. The wilderness chapter of the

Forest Service Manual is quite specific

regarding the protection of historic and

prehistoric cultural resources. The legal

authorities governing protection and

management of cultural resources in wilderness

include the Acts discussed above,

implementing regulations in 36 CFR 800,

Executive Order 11593, and individual forest

and management plans.

The manual states that the Forest Service

policy is that cultural resources in wilderness

are available for scientific study to the extent

that the study is consistent with the concept of

wilderness, the intent of the Wilderness Act,

and cultural resource management objectives.

Cultural resources are also available for

recreational, scenic, scientific, education,

conservation, and historic uses, consistent with

management as wilderness.

The policy also directs that analysis will

be on a case-by-case basis and will ensure that

actions are compatible with wilderness and

cultural resources objectives as stated in the

forest plan. As a general rule, cabins, shelters,

or other structures approaching 50 years of age

should be examined for their cultural resource

value. Those sites or structures that do not

qualify for the National Register should be

removed or allowed to deteriorate naturally

unless they are deemed necessary to support

public purposes of wilderness3 or serve

administrative purposes4.

Within the Forest Service, management

direction for cultural resources eligible for the

National Register is subject to compliance with

Section 106 of the NHPA and the regulations

contained in 36 CFR 800. A decision to

remove, maintain, or allow a historic or

prehistoric structure to deteriorate naturally is

considered a Federal undertaking that will

affect the resources. Interpretation of cultural

resources located in wilderness shall generally

be done outside the wilderness area; verbal

interpretive services by qualified wilderness

rangers, volunteers, or permitted guides is

acceptable.

VALUE OF USE

One difficulty in dealing with cultural

resources in wilderness in a multiple-use

agency such as the Forest Service is the

difficulty of quantifying the values of these

94
resources or, for that matter, of the wilderness life and development in order to give a sense

itself. There is, indeed, no systematic method of orientation to the American people.”

to assess the value and method of treatment of

cultural resources within wilderness. Each archaeological site and historic

structure offers unique information about the

One way to deal with this is to include past. Thus each should be evaluated on its

specific provisions in the authorizing legislation own merits, and not judged merely on whether

for a wilderness area at the time it is or not it occurs in a wilderness area. This was

designated, such as was provided for the River stated very lucidly by Rupert Cutler, former

of No Return Wilderness in the Central Idaho Assistant Secretary of the Department of

Wilderness Act. That Act states that resources -~Agricultum, who participated in 1980 in the

management within the wilderness area.will k Societv for American Archaeologv’s annual

have protection and interpretation of

archaeological sites as one- of its purposes.

In addition, part of the comprehensive

management plan should encourage scientific

research, protect significant cultural resources,

provide public interpretation ,and report on the

location, significance, condition and

recommendations on any sites or structures. ’

‘meeting. He noted lessons that &r be learned

from prehistoric agricultural and conservation

practices; knowledge of long-term climatic

patterns based on archaeologically derived

information; understanding of ancient Indian

religious and cultural practices so that present

land management activities do not interfere

with their modem observance; and ways that

historic structures can be reused for modem

purposes. (Cutler 1980).

Although there are many social and

educational values for maintaining cultural

resources, these are hard to quantify or

measure. Human beings have an intellectual

curiosity about themselves and their past, and

cultural resources help answer their questions.

Knowledge gained from prehistoric and historic

sites and from archaeological excavation and

historical interpretation can enable scientists to

address modem problems. Cultural resource

preservation provides important information on

environment, geology, plant and animal

domestication, human health, and development

of society to name a few. The long term

effects of irrigation on soil formation, safe land

management practices, reintroduction of plants

thought to be extinct, environmental changes

and natural disasters can be examined through

the archaeological record.

Less tangible, but nevertheless real, is

the value that a great many people place on

preservation of a cultural resource for its own

sake. This is not mere rhetoric or wellrwishing;

it is part of our national public policy. In

Section 1, the preamble of the National

Historic Preservation Act, the Congress itself

found and declared that, among other, things,

“the spirit and direction of the Natian are

founded upon and reflected in its historic

heritage” and this heritage should be

“preserved as a living part of our community

CURRENT PROBLEMS GIVE FUTURE

DIRECTIONS

One of the major problems with the

Federal agency cultural resource management

in wilderness is the very lack of any

-affirmative management program and the

subsequent lack of an expanding information

base. This is in direct contrast to nonwilderness land, where, prior to an undertaking,

all agencies are required to conduct a cultural

resources inventory. It is not uncommon for

inventories to end with archaeological site

avoidance rather than excavation or mitigation,

which usually results in a list of sites which

need further evaluation and research. The list,

if evaluated properly, can aid land managers in

making other decisions relating to sites, such

as which ones should be preserved in situ and

which need additional research to add to the

historical and archaeological record.

Law enforcement and resource protection

am also major problems. Vandalism, looting

and pot hunting are destroying sites rapidly.

Although this occurs more frequently in roaded

areas, wilderness designation does not of itself

‘assume site protection. Since federal agencies,

for the most part, have not developed a

complete site inventory, except in response to

specific projects, many sites that are not

95
already identified are being damaged or

destroyed. The tragedy is that there is little

control over the situation and often no concept

of the extent of site loss. This is especially true

for wilderness areas in which cultural resource

surveys are rarely done. Yet archaeological

sites are non-renewable resources; once

destroyed they are gone forever.

According to the newly released General

Accounting Office report (1987) on cultural

resource protection, the federal land managing

agencies in Arizona, New Mexico, Utah and

Colorado (the Four Comers) ‘I... manage about

104 million acres of land in the Four Comers

states, yet the agencies had surveyed less than

6 million acres, or less than 6 percent of these

lands, to identify archaeological sites... estimate

that there are nearly 2 million archaeological

sites in the four states, of which only 7 percent

(about 136,000) have been recorded. Further,

most of the archaeological surveys performed

in recent years have been done to obtain

clearances for development projects and,

therefore, are not necessarily directed at those

areas having the greatest archaeological

resource potential.” (General Accounting Office

1987).

This points to another major problem --

lack of sufficient, trained personnel.

According to one Forest Service archaeologist,

for example, the five state Rocky Mountain

Region of the Forest Service has approximately

26.5 million acres of multiple use national

forests and grasslands but only 8 archaeologists

to provide protection and professional

judgement. How closely can 8 people monitor

26.5 million acres?

In the West, it is a particularly

challenging task. Forests with several million

acres can contain several hundred thousand

archaeological sites. Even to survey 10% of

the sites which are primary looting targets

would mean surveying approximately

20,000-30,000 sites. Public involvement has

been stressed as one way to help monitor large

expanses of land, but efforts thus far have been

merely exhortative and largely ineffective.

While federal land managing agencies

respond reasonably well to their Section 106

responsibilities on non-wilderness lands, there

have been problems meeting obligations for

site stabilization, interpretation and

enhancement of cultural resources for the

public, This has been documented by Dr.

Leslie Wildesen, Colorado state archaeologist.

As former regional archaeologist for the Forest

Service’s Pacific Northwest Region, Dr.

Wildesen worked with wilderness managers

from 19 national forests in an effort to

coordinate wilderness management and cultural

resource protection.

In a landmark article, Wildesen noted

that the complex relationship between cultural

resources and wilderness values is complex and

said that “it is often difficult to strike a balance

between preservation of cultural resources in

wilderness areas and preservation of pristine

wilderness.” She stressed that both the

National Historic Preservation Act and the

Wilderness Act have similar focus, to preserve

important resources for public enjoyment and

enlightenment and for scholarly use. She

added, however, that wilderness designation,

“traditionally has been the death knell for

affirmative cultural resource management on

millions of acres of federal lands. Conversely,

the presence of historical and archaeological

resources has been cited as a reason to prevent

an area from being included in the Wilderness

Preservation System” (Wildesen 1985).

Other problems occur when land

managers discourage archaeological research in

wilderness by limiting access to it or when

they assume that sites are protected merely

because no development will occur that might

damage the resource. Managers may fail to

take into account the value of cultural

resources during wilderness planning. Too

often, historical resources have been

deliberately destroyed because of a perceived

conflict with the purposes of wilderness --

despite the fact that no such destruction is

called for or condoned by the Wilderness Act.

Unfortunately, cultural resource

advocates have themselves sometimes

contributed to the conflict. Failure to identify

the cultural resource base in potential

wilderness areas and not being persuasive in

securing specific language in wilderness

legislation are some of the reasons there are

problems (Wildesen 1985).

96
Cultural resource professionals have felt

the need to work for specific statutory

language, as in the Central Idaho Wilderness

Act. That language was included as a result of

the efforts of Dr. Ruthann Knudson who

proposed the specific provision requiring

“affirmative management” of the historical and

archaeological resources within the wilderness

boundaries and requiring preparation of a

cultural resource management plan during the

wilderness management planning process.

There is, moreover, an ethical issue that

is raised by the manipulation of wilderness for

scientific ends, including the taking of artifacts ,

the ve ry action of which may destroy some

wilderness values. In a recent article on this

issue, it was noted that

, the apparent conflict with

hi0bhg freely functioning natural

conditions and basic ecological

process to proceed in wilderness

with minimal human-induced

interference and disturbance. Can

we indeed retain wilderness value

and character while at the same

time physically removing finite,

non-renewable components? . . .

Thus, the dilemma, does the

wilderness manager allow

destruction of potentially

significant scientific data in order

to preserve wilderness values? Or

does the manager allow the

removal of fossil and cultural

materials to facilitate the

preservation of scientific

knowledge at the expense of

wilderness values? (Berger et al.

1987).

However, to manage effectively a land

based resource, one must know where and

what it is. Inventory and evaluation are key to

this, but in wilderness areas are rarely done.

For example, the 3.5 million acre Superior

National Forest has approximately 80,000-

100,000 acres surveyed annually. Of this, only

300 to 500 acres are in wilderness, yet the

wilderness contains 1.2 million acres, or over

one third of the entire forest (Peters 1987).

At this rate, and despite efforts by

archaeologists and cultural resource specialists,

a complete survey may, never be completed.

Since the majority of federal land managing

agencies are project based agencies, most of

the work is project related. Funds for cultural

resource surveys come from each specific

project budget such as timber, minerals,

grazing, or recreation. Systematic surveys of

existing wilderness areas are a low priority for

Federal agencies due to lack of funding for

non-impacting program work, a heavy

em

B

hasis on areas where impacts am occurring,

an misguided beliefs on the part of wilderness

managers, cultural resources specialists and the

public that wilderness designation protects

cultural properties.

Furthermore, the emphasis on compliance

with federal regulations concerning the

identification, evaluation, and nomination of

historic and prehistoric resources can often

result in little time available to devote to the

development of long-term planning and

management strategies for cultural resources.

Considerable quantities of data have been

accumulated with little effort being spent in

developing techniques that would enable the

prediction of the location and densities of

cultural properties. This is especially true of

non-wilderness lands and is perhaps a major

reason why less attention and support is given

to cultural resource management in wilderness.

“We have been attempting to keep one step

ahead of the chainsaw and bulldozer with little

time to look at where we are going or should

be going.” (Cordell 1984).

SPECIFIC RECOMMENDATIONS

Progress has occurred since the

promulgation of many cultural resource

regulations. The Forest Service for example

states: “In reaching a decision, the long-term

needs of society and the irreversible nature of

an action must be considered. The Department

must act to preserve future options; loss of

important cultural resources must be avoided,

except in the face of overriding national

interest where there are no reasonable

altematives.“6

The biggest stumbling block is to

overcome the traditional tendency to view

responsibilities for cultural resource

management as a stepchild to important

97
activities or as a constraint on the management

of other resources. Rather, it should be seen

as an opportunity for broader service. One

way to do this is by better integrating cultural

resources into the full spectrum of

multipleresource management. In this regard,

there are a number of recommendations for

addressing specific needs. These include the

following:

* Develop cultural resource inventory strategies

which are more workable in wilderness areas;

refine sampling techniques and improve

accuracy while reducing the time and cost;

* Improve the use of remote sensing and other

nondestructive technological methods to

identify and protect cultural resource sites;

* Develop better methods of data collection,

including dating techniques to establish the

importance and value of archaeological sites

and better means of managing and exchanging

data and other information;

* Improve methods for assessing and

predicting potential impacts on cultural

resources, and for understanding what

motivates cultural resource vandalism and theft;

* Develop better means for cultural resource

interpretation to make cultural resource

programs relevant (Cutler 1980).

Another recommendation is use of

consistent cultural resource protection language

in all future wilderness legislation. It is

unfortunate but true that without language

which carries a specific inventory

responsibility, as in the case with the River of

No Return Wilderness, cultural resources will

remain largely unknown in these areas.

Wildesen provided the framework and rationale

for this in her article when she called for

a program of future research,

lx&ic interpretation, and historic

preservation to be carried out as

part of ongoing management of the

wilderness. The very concept of

“wilderness” implies that cultural

resources found in these places are

not routine, run-of-the-mill

properties. Rather, they represent

adaptation - or attempted

adaptations - to environments that

today we fiid too difficult, rugged,

or isolated to try to “civilize.” It

follows that these resources may

be the most informative of all

about the history of human success

and failure in these environments

over the past 10,000 years and that

we should therefore be vigorous in

our attempts to preserve them

(Wildesen 1985).

Until Federal land managing agencies

take more affirmative action for managing

cultural resources in wilderness under existing

authorities, the need remains to incorporate, in

certain instances, explicit legislative language

to protect historic and archaeological resources

in many new and existing wilderness areas. A

specific requirement could be included to

inventory, evaluate, and provide affiiative

management for significant resources.

Conflicts could therefore be resolved during

the early planning stages of wilderness

management.

CONCLUSION

The national direction is in place.

Federal law -- carried out through the agency

manuals and regulations -- mandates cultural

resource management and protection. The

long-term nature of management planning

allows sufficient time to build cultural

resources survey and protection into wilderness

management. Individual land managing units,

such as national forests, have unit management

plans. Most do not, however, prepare plans

for the management of individual wilderness

areas generally or cultural resources

specifically. This is an area which begs for

further attention.

Federal agencies should have no

difficulty integrating wilderness and cultural

resources into the context of multiple use

management, especially considering that they

have done so with other resources and other

multiple use tasks. Wilderness and cultural

resources may be separate, but they ate not

unalike. In the end, after all, their goals are the

same --to save a part of our heritage for

present as well as future generations to learn

from and enjoy.

98
REFERENCES

Berger, A.W., W.L. Overbaugh, G.H. Stankey.

1987. Extraction of Non-Renewable

Resources from Wilderness: A Dilemma

of Scientific Use.

Cordell, Linda S. and Dee F. Green, editors.

1984. Stage I Site Locational Modeling

in the Southwestern Region. Cultural

Resources Management Report 5, US

Forest Service Southwestern Region.

Cutler, M. Rupert. 1980. Cultural Resource

Programs in the Department of

Agriculture. Paper given at the Society

for American Archaeology Annual

Meeting, May 2;1980. Philadelphia, PA.

DeBloois, Evan I. 1984. Measuring Cultural

Resource Management Accomplishments.

Professional Development Program for

Outdoor Recreation Management, Forest

Service.

DeBloois, Evan I. 1987. Personal

Communication.

Peters, Gordon. 1987. Personal

Communication.

Society for American Archaeology. 1987.

Oversight Hearing on Forest Management

Activities. Testimony before the House

Agriculture Committee Subcommittee on

Forest, Family Farms and Energy, June

17, 1987.

U.S. Department of Agriculture. Forest Service.

1987. Discover Your National Forests -

An Information Guide for All Interested

in America’s Outdoors.

U.S. Department of Agriculture. Forest Service.

1986. Title 2300 - Recreation,

Wilderness and Related Resource

Management, Chapter 2320 Wilderness

Management.

U.S. General Accounting Office. 1987.

Cultural Resources: Problems Protecting

and Preserving Federal Archeological

Resources.

Wilderness‘ Society. 1984. The Wilderness

Act Handbook. The Wilderness Society.

Wildesen, Leslie E. 1985. Dilemma: Should

Wilderness Areas Preserve Historic and

Archaeological Cultural Resources7

Colorado Heritage News, 5,7. Colorado

Historical Society, Denver, CO.

Wildesen, Leslie E. 1986. Model Cultural

Resource Language for Special Areas

Designation.

99
APPENDIX ONE

Central Idaho Wilderness Language

Sec. 8 (a)(l) In furtherance of the

purposes of the Wilderness Act, the Wild and

Scenic Rivers Act, section 6 of the National

Forest Management Act, the Archaeological

Resources Protection Act, and the Historic

Preservation Act, the Secretary shall cooperate

with the Secretary of the Interior and with

agencies and institutions of the State of Idaho,

in conducting a cultural resource management

program with the River of No Return

Wilderness and within the Salmon River

component of the National Wild and Scenic

Rivers System ~1s designated in section 9 of

this Act.

(2) Such program shall have as its

purposes the protection of archaeological sites

and interpretation of such sites for the public

benefit and knowledge insofar as these

activities are compatible with the preservation

of the values for which the wilderness and

wild and scenic river were designated to

protect.

(3) To carry out the cultural resource

management program required by paragraph (1)

of this section, the Secretary shall, as part of

the comprehensive management plan required

under subsection S(a) of this Act, develop a

cultural resources management plan for the

wilderness and the river. Such plan shall -

(A) encourage scientific research into

man’s past use of the River of No Return

Wilderness and the Salmon River corridor,

(B) provide an outline for the protection

of significant cultural resources, including

protection from vandalism and looting as well

as destruction from natural deterioration;

(C) be based on adequate inventory data,

supplemented by test excavation data where

appropriate;

(D) include a public interpretation

program; and

(E) comply with all Federal and State

historic and cultural preservation statutes,

regulations, guidelines, and standards.

(b)(l) Within two years from the date of

enactment of this Act, the Secretary shall

cooperate with the Secretary of the Interior and

with agencies and institutions of the State of

Idaho in conducting an inventory of the ranch,

homestead, trapper and other cabins, and

structures within the River of No Return

Wilderness and within the Salmon River

component of the National Wild and Scenic

Rivers System designated by Section 9 of this

Act and submit to the Committee on Energy

and Natural Resources of the United States

Senate and the Committee on Interior and

Insular Affairs of the United States House of

Representatives a report on-

(A) the location of these structures;

(B) their historic significance, if any;

(C) their present condition;

(D) recommendations as to which of

these structures should be:

(i) stabilized;

(ii) restored;

(iii) maintained; or

(iv) removed;

(E) the estimated cost of such

stabilization, restoration, maintenance, or

removal; and

(F) the suitability of any of these

structures for inclusion in the National Register

of Historic Places.

(2) Until such time as the study under this

subsection is completed and the required report

submitted to the Committees, the Secretary

shall not knowingly permit the destruction of

significant alteration of any historic cabin or

other structure on national forest land within

the River of No Return Wilderness or the

Salmon River component of the National Wild

and Scenic Rivers System designated in section

9 of this Act.

100
APPENDIX TWO

Model Cultural Resource Language for

Wilderness as Proposed by Wildesen

In order to protect the unique

archaeological, historic, cultural, and other (e.g.

scenic, wilderness, recreation, geologic,

wildlife, ecologic, scientific) resources of the ,

there is hereby established the (Wilderness;

National Park; National Monument; Wild,

Scenic, or Recreational River; National

Wildlife Refuge; etc.).

ADMINISTRATION

e.

General

The Secretary shall manage the name of

area in a manner that will protect the

archaeological, historic, cultural and other

(listed as appropriate) resources and values of

the (type of area) and to provide for public

education about those resources and values.

Specific

The Secretary shall permit the full use of

the (name of area) for scientific research and

scholarly study, subject to such restrictions as

may be necessary to prevent degradation of the

(list of resources) resources of the area.

Management Plan

Within (time period) after the date of

enactment of this Act, the Secretary shall

complete a management plan for the (name of

area) in accordance with the requirements

contained in (name of authorizing legislation -

FLPMA, NFMA, etc.).

Such plan shall include but not be

limited to each of the following items:

(1) Specific measures for the preservation

of the known and potential archaeological,

historic, and cultural resources of the (name of

area);

(2) A schedule for the prompt

completion of a detailed archaeological,

historical and cultural resources management

plan, which shall meet each of the following

requirements;

(a) The plan shall be based on adequate

inventory data and shall include a schedule for

timely implementation of intensive field

inventory (if needed). Inventory data shall be

supplemented by archival research, oral history,

and archaeological test excavation data as

appropriate to enable evaluation of all

inventoried resources for the National Register

of Historic Places.

(b) The plan shall include a public

interpretation program, and shall take into

account the opinions of the public, including

appropriate agencies and scholars in the fields

of archaeology, history, anthropology, historic

preservation, and landscape architecture.

(c) The plan shall provide for the

protection of significant cultural resources,

including protection from vandalism and

looting as well as destruction from natural

deterioration or environmental degradation.

(d) The plan shall provide for long-term

scholarly use of archaeological resources, and

for continued use or adaptive reuse of historic

structures and buildings, insofar as possible

consistent with (name of managing agency)

policy and the National Historic Preservation

Act.

(e) The plan shall develop data on the

past and present use(s) of the (name of area)

by Indian [or other Native American, Eskimo,

Aleut, etc.] people sufficient to ensure their

nonexclusive access for traditional cultural and

religious purposes in accordance with the

American Indian Religious Freedom Act. Such

data shall be developed in consultation with

appropriate Indian tribes [or others--Eskimo,

etc.].

(f) The plan shall comply with all

federal historic and cultural preservation

statutes, regulations, guidelines, and standards,

including but not limited to the National

Historic Preservation Act and the

Archaeological Resources Protection Act.

101
(g) The plan shall, to the extent

possible, take into account the appropriate

Statewide Comprehensive Historic Preservation

Plan(s) for the State(s) of (name), in which the

(name of area) is located.

(3) Such other resource-specific topics

as may be necessary to comply with (name of

authorizing legislation).

ENDNOTES

Th e National Forest System h as 339 w ild erness units w ith a total of 32 444 737 acres

rbm pare d to 37 units w ith 36 7.54 9 80 acres at th e National Park Se rvice 20 units of 368 739

acres under th e jurisd iction Bu;eau’of Land Managem ent and 70 units containing 19 ,332,89 1 acres

at th e Fish and W ildlife. Se rvice.

2. Th e Nationa? Forest M anagem ent Act, (16 USC. 1600 et seq.) proposes to m anage th e use oft

d em and for and supply of renew able resources th rough a com preh ensive assessm ent of present and

anticipated uses, includ ing analysis of environm ental and econom ic im pacts and prom otion of a

sound tech nical and ecological base for efective m anagem ent, use and protection.

3. As set forth in section 4(b) of th e W ild e rness Act (16 U.S.C. 1121 et seq.).

4. Section 4(c) of th e W ild e rness Act.

5. Th e Central Idah o W ild e rness Act (Public Law 9 6- 312 July 23, 19 80).

6. US Forest Se rvice Manual, Title 2300 - R e creation, W ild erness and R e lated Resource

M anagem ent, Ch apte r 2320 W ild e rness Managem ent.

102
ENVIRONMENTAL MONITORING IN WILDERNESS

Susan P.

ABSTRACT

W ild erness legislation m ay inte rfe re w ith

field execution of m any types of m onitoring

stud ies, and confusion about m anagem ent of

scientific projects in w ild e rness h as

d iscouraged m any m onitoring projects from

utilizing w ild erness. Despite the inh ibition of

m onitoring, w ild e rness areas represent an

im portant long- te rm investm ent in m aintaining

ecosystem s w ith low levels of h um an

d isturbance. Th e prq ent paucity of m onitoring

projects in w ild e rness m ay be allow ing site

integrity problem s to d evelop undocum ente d.

Policy revision and clarification are needed to

encourage m onitoring for preservation of site

integrity as w ell as for th e purposes of th e

scientific com m unity at large. All agencies

responsible for w ild e rness sh ould consid e r

scientific research and m onitoring an

im portant product of a w ell- organized

w ild erness m anagem ent program .

INTRODUCTION

Since World War II, human impacts on

natural ecosystems have increased at an

alarming rate. Not only is direct human use,

such as clearing for agriculture, mining, and

logging, disturbing an ever-increasing

percentage of the Earth’s surface, but remote

human impacts, such as acid rain, pesticide

contamination, nuclear fallout, ozone depletion,

and global climate change, are affecting very

isolated regions with little continuing human

presence. Environmental monitoring, once rare

outside of urban and industrial zones, is now

under way in the Antarctic and the Arctic, in

the open oceans, in very arid deserts, and on

high mountain ridges. The purpose of this

paper is to discuss the present state and future

prospects of environmental monitoring in the

National Wilderness Preservation System of the

United States. The paper will then attempt to

determine if wilderness legislation has in any

Bratton*

way benefited monitoring efforts, and if present

policies concerning monitoring in wilderness

can be improved.

THE STRUCTURE OF

ENVIRONMENTAL MONITORING

PROGRAMS

Environmental monitoring projects vary

in their complexity, managerial goals, and

scientific purposes. Environmental monitoring

may be undertaken in a wilderness area

because:

(1) The integrity of the site itself is at

stake. The purpose of the monitoring is thus to

verify rates of change in ecosystem structure

and processes, or to verify the extent and

impact of undesirable anthropogenic influences,

such as human trampling or acid rain.

(2) The site is in a desirable geographic

location or contains species or ecosystems of

interest for a specific project. A wilderness

area might be used for environmental

monitoring because it incorporates the highest

elevations in a mountain range, for example, or

because it contains old-growth forest.

(3) The site is relatively pristine or free

from human disturbances, and thus may serve

as a control site in an impact study. Also, it

may act as a baseline for comparison with

other areas with greater human disturbance or

may provide information on background levels

of pollutants or other compounds.

The Wilderness Act incorporates lands

that appear “to have been affected primarily by

the forces of nature, with the imprint of man’s

work substantially unnoticeable” and that

“contain ecological, geological, or other

features of scientific, educational, scenic or

historical value.” The wilderness system has

thus purposefully incorporated properties that

* Unit Coordinator, U.S. National Park Se rvice Coope rative Studies Unit, Institute of Ecology, Ath e ns, GA.

103
have high value for scientific research and are

relatively undisturbed. The Wilderness Act,

however, has only general provisions for

scientific use. The act states ‘I. . . wilderness

areas shall be devoted to the public purposes

of recreational, scenic, scientific, educational,

conservation, and historical use . . . .‘I and

does not in any specific way provide for

establishment of scientific monitoring or other

types of scientific research. It should be noted

that the Wilderness Act does exclude certain

uses, some of which are common elements of

scientific monitoring projects. These include

the “use of motor vehicles, motorized

equipment, or motorboats, . . . landing of

aircraft, . . . other form@] of mechanical

transport . . .‘I and “structure[s] and

installation[s].” The Wilderness Act has no

provisions for monitoring to maintain site

integrity, much less for participation in other

types of monitoring programs, and essentially

leaves the scientific management of the site at

the discretion of the Federal agency responsible

for the area.

PRESENT DISTRIBUTION OF

MONITORING PROGRAM

Many wilderness areas are covered by

other legislation or participate in national or

international scientific or conservation

programs. Great Smoky Mountains, for

example, has National Park enabling

legislation, and is also a Biosphere Reserve

under a program sponsored by UNESCO. In

reviewing the distribution of environmental

monitoring programs now in wilderness, we

must first look at the overall pattern of

legislation and other mandates and determine

which portions of present monitoring programs

are forwarded by wilderness status and which

are being promoted by other designations.

According to a study by Butler and

Roberts (1986). between 1970 and 1980 onehalf of the research projects in Forest Service

wilderness areas were on recreational topics

(50 percent), whereas a majority of the projects

in National Park Service wilderness areas were

on biological topics (62 percent). For the 53

Forest Service areas included in the study there

was an average of 0.13 zoology projects per

site. For the 22 NPS areas included there was

an average of 10.3 zoology projects per site.

Thus nearly 80 times more zoology projects

were conducted per site in NPS areas. There

were 13 times as many botany projects per

site, and 15 times the general ecology projects

in NPS sites, while the Forest Service areas

had 3 times more recreation projects per site

than the NPS. If recreational projects are

counted, the NPS had 7 times as many

scientific projects per wilderness area as the

Forest Service. If recreational projects are

deleted, the NPS had 14 times as many per

area.

The present status of environmental

monitoring reflects the overall research use of

wilderness areas as described by Butler and

Roberts (1986). Comparing wilderness areas in

the Southeastern United States, the most

diverse monitoring programs are on National

Park Service properties. The two best

developed efforts are in the Great Smoky

Mountains and Everglades National Parks, but

there are also developing programs in smaller

areas, such as Cumberland Island and Gulf

Islands National Seashores. The NPS is still in

the process of expanding monitoring in the

Southeast, and several additions to present

efforts are already planned for fiscal years

1988 and 1989.

Within the NPS sites, those with

Biosphere Reserve status often have the largest

programs or are better integrated with the

activities of other institutions and agencies. The

Man and the Biosphere program has tended to

foster information exchange and interaction

between reserves, and has also drawn non-Park

Service scientists into the parks.

The trends apparent in the Southeastern

United States would seem to apply, with a few

exceptions, nationwide. For instance, in the

“Proceedings--National Wilderness Research

Conference: Current Research” (meeting held

in Fort Collins, CO, July 23-26, 1985), a

majority of the environmental monitoring

papers (not those discussing recreational

impacts) concerned NPS sites. Forest Service

scientific participation in the Biopshere Reserve

program has usually centered on the

experimental forests rather than on the

wilderness areas. Most of the larger, older

Forest Service wilderness areas do not have

long-term monitoring programs developed to

evaluate site integrity concerns, whereas most

104
of the larger, older National Parks (with or

without wilderness) have at least a small effort

under way.

The reasons for these differences

between agencies are complex, but several

factors are probably operating nationwide.

First, The NPS began as an agency with a

mission in preservation, whereas the Forest

Service began with a mission in conservation,

The NPS has a very high concern for

maintaining ecosystems in a “natural” or even

pre-Columbian state. Second, most parks had

long histories of supporting environmental

research before they fell under wilderness

legislation. This is not true of many Forest

Service wilderness areas. Third, most park

legislation includes mandates to protect “the

native flora and faun$’ or the “scientific

values” of the areas. Fourth, the NPS sponsors

extensive interpretive programs with onsite

staff and has been doing this for decades.

Although a majority of these programs are

aimed at “front country” visitors, they tend to

foster descriptive natural history studies and

the maintenance of park museums. Through the

years this has helped to expand scientific

knowledge of the parks. Forest Service

wilderness areas rarely have these programs

and facilities. Fifth, the NPS has slowly

expanded the number of field laboratories for

research use. Although small, very basic, and

outside the legislated wilderness, these work

spaces greatly facilitate access to wilderness.

Sixth, most of the larger parks were traversed

by major roads prior to wilderness legislation.

All parks (outside of Alaska) with high

mountain ranges, have roads leading to the

upper elevations. This facilitates establishing

monitoring stations along elevations and other

environmental gradients. Seventh, as a matter

of national policy, the NPS has greatly

expanded its air and water quality monitoring.

Eighth, the Park Service has had several

programs to evaluate site integrity of both

cultural and natural resources for all parks and

for all types of areas, wilderness and nonwilderness. One of these efforts, the “Threats

to Parks” program which began in 1980,

generated dozens of monitoring projects

directed at defining anthropogenic changes.

The Forest Service, in contrast, has been

much more oriented to the various user

constituencies. Since the service operates in a

conservation and production mode, the product

of wilderness areas has become recreation. In

the Forest Service, scientific research is often

viewed as a means of either increasing or

maintaining the productivity of timber

producing sites. The Service has, of course,

participated in hundreds of research projects

evaluating human impacts on forested and

grassland ecosystems. Much of this work was

economically motivated or aimed at providing

better services to the public. Research aimed

solely at native ecosystem preservation is less

common in the Forest Service than in the NPS.

Although the legislation indicates science is a

potentially important product of wilderness,

Forest Service managers have not tried to

increase scientific use of most wilderness areas.

This may be an artifact of long-term research

administrative policies of the agency where the

research centers on the products of the systems

- in this case recreation - and ignores other

concerns. (It should be noted that many NPS

managers are antagonistic towards university

based, and even Park Service based, research

and in some cases will try to limit research

programs to projects addressing the immediate

managerial concerns of the park.)

From this comparison we can infer that

wilderness legislation has done little to

encourage environmental monitoring. The sites

which have extensive monitoring programs

have them because of other legislation, or

because of management histories which have

little to do with the Wilderness Act. We

therefore need to ask three new questions.

First, if wilderness is not encouraging

environmental monitoring, is it inhibiting it in

any way? Second, does wilderness legislation

have any potential benefits for environmental

monitoring which are not being realized

because of agency policies? And third, since

monitoring is often used to evaluate site

integrity, are the present monitoring programs

adequate for future wilderness management

needs?

WILDERNESS AND FIELD EXECUTION

OF MONITORING

There can be little doubt that wilderness

legislation restricts many types of monitoring

activities. Lack of roads makes access to study

sites difficult, and prohibitions on the use of

105
motorized transportation slow trips into the

center of wilderness areas. For most types of

monitoring projects, these problems can be

overcome by adding increased person power or

person time to compensate the time lost

reaching study areas. Use of wilderness may

therefore add substantially to a project budget.

In some cases, the difficulties of wilderness

access may double or triple sample collection

effort and this is proportionately reflected in

personnel costs.

try to interpret the spirit of the Wilderness

for themselves. This leads to variability in

what is allowed (enclosures permitted in one

park, but not in another for example), and in

some cases has terminated monitoring

programs completely, at least within the

wilderness boundary.

This author, for example, has been

personally invoived in negotiations between

researchers and wilderness site managers over:

Looking at well-developed park

monitoring programs, we fiid much of the

monitoring is not actually done in wilderness

or is conducted a very short distance over the

wilderness boundary. Weather and pollution

monitoring stations are placed along roads to

allow easy vehicle access. Some types of

hydrologic and water-quality sampling are

conducted where motorized boats am

permitted, often at the periphery of a terrestrial

wilderness area. In Southeastern wilderness, a

majority of the scientific monitoring actually

under way in the center of wilderness zones

(away from roads) consists of permanent

vegetation plots which only need to be

resampled on an extended cycle, i.e., annually,

or every 5 or 10 years, or wildlife population

monitoring undertaken once annually, or

conducted from the air. As a general rule, the

shorter the sampling rotation, and the greater

the distance to the study sites, the more

difficult it is to use wilderness for monitoring.

(1) Construction of grazing enclosures.

(2) Placement of pollution monitoring

stations in wilderness.

(3) Construction of protective fences for

pollution monitoring stations.

(4) Power sources for pollution

monitoring stations.

(5) Use of all-terrain vehicles to survey

nesting sea turtles (at the edge of wilderness).

106

(6) Use of large bench marks.

(7) Establishment of vegetation plots

with numerous trees tagged or marked for

relocation.

(8) Use of gasoline-powered motors on

electro-shocking equipment for fisheries

Another major problem area for

environmental monitoring is the question of

structures (Franklin 1987). Many types of

pollution monitoring stations require protective

fences and power sources. Scientific equipment

may be visually intrusive, and even a solarpowered station may stand out as 20th century

technology in a “virgin” forest stand. Site

markers, bench marks, and fences vary greatly

in size and conspicuousness. In some cases, a

small “house” may be necessary, in others,

equipment may be left exposed. Some

sampling equipment looks very space-aged,

while other items can appear quite rustic.

Grazing enclosures for large ungulates may

require fences 10 feet high, while a vegetation

monitoring plot may require little more than an

aluminum tree tag. Since there is no national

policy on establishing scientific monitoring

facilities in wilderness, site managers usually

surveys.

(9) Use of boats rather than trucks to

access coastal sites.

(10) Construction of weirs for water

quality monitoring.

(11) Low elevation aerial survey.

(12) Delivery by helicopter of monitoring

hardware.

(13) Use of sleds rather than wagons as

horse drawn conveyances to move enclosure

materials.

(14) Establishment of research base

camps in wilderness.

Act
(15) Use of steel drums or boxes to

protect scientific supplies from bears.

Some types of destructive or

experimental large-scale scientific research are

certainly not in keeping with the intent of the

Wilderness Act. Since the act itself commends

the sites for scientific use, however, it would

seem that most types of nondestructive

environmental monitoring would be

appropriate. There is presently a large “grey

area”, where one site manager or one agency

may decide against a certain type of project

and another may decide in favor of it. Lack of

consistent policy discourages scientists from

using wilderness for monitoring as does the

history of argument between the Federal

agencies supervising the sites and the scientific

research community.

Over all, wilderness legislation may be

doing more to inhibit environmental monitoring

than to encourage it at the present time.

Working in wilderness often adds to project

expenses. In some cases, site managers may

prohibit monitoring projects entirely. It should

be recognized, however, that these trends may

be more a result of general agency

management patterns and of how wilderness

legislation has been interpreted than of the

Wilderness Act itself.

FUTURE WILDERNESS BENEFITS FOR

MONITORING

Although wilderness presently may

inhibit monitoring to some extent, wilderness

legislation is a very good long-term investment

in site protection. At designation, many Forest

Service wilderness areas were little different

from the surrounding region, except that they

were more remote or contained less disturbed

systems. As the decades pass, and the areas

around wilderness are repeatedly logged or

developed, wilderness will become even more

unique and may offer relatively disturbancefree systems in regions where they have

disappeared elsewhere. Even within National

Parks, which have enabling legislation

prohibiting many forms of human exploitation,

wilderness restricts the construction of new

roads, thus preserving watersheds and

preventing fragmentation of natural ecosystems.

Well-managed wilderness is “money in the

bank” as far as scientific monitoring is

concerned, and its value will increase greatly

through time. We should therefore be

concerned about the low level of baseline

information gathering in many wilderness areas

today. Future monitoring projects will need

background information, and, in some cases, an

established monitoring data base.

MONITORING AND SITE INTEGRITY

In general, there are several types of

monitoring and several levels of monitoring

effort. A program may only concern the

wilderness area, or it may concern several

related areas; it may be part of a national

network, or it may be part of an international

network. Although the value of a monitoring

project to the national welfare isn’t directly

correlated to scale, the national level programs

are generally of high importance. In terms of

monitoring human impacts, projects in

wilderness may concern primarily the effect of

wilderness recreationists. This may include

campsite and trail erosion surveys, creel

census, data from hunter check-in stations, and

some types of water quality evaluation.

Researchers may also evaluate the impact of

esthetic intrusions on wilderness users, This

includes such items as noise monitoring from

aerial overflights. The monitoring of human

impacts may expand to evaluate the spread of

exotic species, the decline of a large carnivore,

or the population status of a fish endangered

by hydroelectric projects outside the

wilderness. ln a well-developed program,

monitoring for variables of global

environmental concern may be implemented,

including evaluation of such phenomena as

acid rain, climatic warming, and sea level rise.

Environmental monitoring does not have

to address human impacts, and some programs

may be initiated just to analyze natural

ecosystem processes. Although these projects

are often the least favored by site managers

because they are of no immediate managerial

use, the “pure science” projects are often

among the best long-term investments, because

they are usually very sophisticated in design

and describe how ecosystems function in a

natural state. These theoretical studies provide

a foundation for determining what constitutes

undesirable change in wilderness.

107
At the present time, wilderness status

tends to forward visitor impact and esthetic

intrusion monitoring. Trampling, vandalism,

and wildlife harvest are of course very

threatening to site integrity, and efforts to

contain them are necessary to the long-term

preservation of wilderness. Many of these types

of studies deal with very local areas, however,

and do not tackle the larger scale threats. Most

types of visitor impact monitoring do not

require long-term placement of sampling

equipment or construction of small housings.

Nor do most of these types of studies

encounter serious access problems, as they are

oriented towards main visitor routes and do not

require heavy equipment. In some cases, such

as monitoring bacteria in lakes and streams

near campsites, getting the samples to the

laboratory quickly enough may be a problem,

but this is often resolved by use of small

coolers or holding media.

The introduction of monitoring aimed at

broader scale processes or developed as part of

a national network is less frequent in

wilderness and often adds more complications.

A pollution monitoring station, for example,

may have to meet nationally established

specifications, or may be part of a network

with a protocol developed for non-wilderness

sites. Most types of air and water quality

monitoring have a short sampling rotation,

which means even automated stations need to

be checked frequently. The more sophisticated

and the more nationally oriented the program,

the more likely wilderness status is to be a

problem.

The irony of the present situation is that

the broader scale human impacts are the ones

most likely to damage seriously large areas of

wilderness through time and to cause serious

loss of site integrity. In the Great Smoky

Mountains, for example, trail and campsite

erosion has displaced rare plant species and

caused some sedimentation in streams.

Campsites in old-growth stands may damage

valuable botanical resources. These localized

direct human impacts cannot compare,

however, to the disturbances caused by nonnative species, including the European wild

boar, the balsam woolly adelgid, and the

rainbow trout over the last 30 to 40 years, The

park is also suffering from red spruce dieback

and may soon lose thousands of large

hardwoods to gypsy moths. Acid rain and

elevated ozone levels have probably had

numerous subtle impacts on park ecosystems.

Dispersed anthropogenic disturbances to the

Great Smokies have tended to increase through

time, and legal protection, by itself, has not

been effective in preventing unnatural

disintegration of native ecosystems (White and

Bratton 1980).

The impacts of wilderness recreationists

are also less of a concern on Cumberland

Island National Seashore than a variety of

broader scale human-initiated impacts. Hikers

confined to designated campsites may disturb

shore birds, wading birds, and occasionally sea

turtles, but they do not compare to wild hogs,

feral horses and a very large white-tailed deer

population in terms of total disruption to interdune meadows, live oak forests and cordgrass

marshes. U.S. Department of Defense dredging

activities at the park boundary will probably

accelerate erosion of both beaches and

marshes, and are changing water quality within

park estuaries.

Despite the potential for loss of species

and perhaps entire biotic communities,

wilderness status tends to encourage monitoring

of more localized concerns. In areas like Great

Smokies and Cumberland Island, wilderness

status has precipitated trail and campsite and

visitor use and perception studies, but it is a

very minor component in exotic species or

dredging concerns.

At the very least, there is a national need

for basic environmental monitoring in

wilderness, to establish baseline information

banks for attacking site integrity questions.

This effort needs to encourage basic ecological

research, including all types of biological

surveys and descriptive studies. The attitudes

of the managing agencies toward science are

falling short of the needs of the scientific

community and of the wilderness areas

themselves.

THE FUTURE

Both the value of wilderness for

monitoring and the disturbance potential of

broad-scale impacts will probably increase

108
through time. Concurrently, agency funding

for wilderness monitoring projects is likely to

decrease on a per site basis. Recent additions

of large and relatively pristine areas in Alaska

alone will strain the capabilities of present

agency science budgets. The structure of field

research staffs is also liable to change. A

number of Park Service monitoring projects in

wilderness have relied heavily on volunteers to

assist with sampling or moving equipment.

Due to economic and demographic factors,

volunteers have become increasingly difficult

to recruit, thus the lack of “walking” field help

is further inhibiting research. Not just national

but international economic conditions are likely

to have a major impact on wilderness

monitoring, as will the availability of college

students and recent graduates who are willing

to work in remote areas. I

Several conceptual changes in wilderness

science management would be very beneficial:

(1) Science and education need to be

considered as legitimate products of wilderness

sites. Not all wilderness areas are equally

useful for these purposes, so not all wilderness

needs to support large numbers of projects.

Some wilderness is extremely valuable,

however, and agency management policies for

these locations should foster scientific use.

Policies concerning environmental monitoring

should be redrafted to require local site

managers to facilitate non-destructive research.

The agencies managing wilderness should ask

the scientific community which sites have

special value for research and adjust their local

management plans accordingly.

(2) The problems with placement of

structures, fences, and other developments need

review and more careful analysis. Scientists

need to know what to expect before planning

projects. Guidance in “grey areas” should be

provided for local managers who may wish to

avoid conflict, and who may be afraid to

authorize projects with unusual equipment or

site needs.

Standards for scientific work should not

be drafted to form a single national model but

should incorporate methods for dealing with

specific pending problems affecting certain

types of sites. Sea level rise on the coast along

with storm overwash makes lightweight bench

marking systems relatively useless, for

example. Dieback of high elevation forests in

several regions may warrant extensive pollution

monitoring facilities. Special provisions should

be made for cases where there are extreme

threats to site integrity.

Because of the interest in recreation as a

product and the relative lack of disinterest in

science, many wilderness areas have a double

standard for allowable damage. (This is true in

both the Forest Sexvice and the NPS areas.)

Recreation often requires extensive trail and

campsite systems which disturb hundreds of

hectares and crisscross watersheds. In building

trails, for example, it is common practice to

remove surface soil and to cut through tree

root systems. Should a researcher suggest

doing this to establish a weir, the plan would

be rejected by many wilderness managers -

despite the fact that the total disturbance to the

watershed is a small fraction of that caused by

a typical long-distance hiking trail. This

author believes that many wilderness areas

allow more damage than they should from

recreational users and their facilities. The

restrictions on environmental monitoring,

however, are often too strict. The decisions

should be based on long-term impacts, as well

as immediate visual intrusion problems. If there

are 100 campsites in a wilderness area and 3

monitoring stations, and all are causing the

same amount of site disturbance, it would seem

the monitoring stations are very reasonable

additions. New policies for environmental

monitoring would help to decrease

discrepancies in recreational and scientific

management. (3) All interested parties

should open dialogue on appropriate scientific

uses of wilderness. The managing agencies

should prompt discussion between scientific

and recreational users over problems of

concern to both. Issues might include

establishment of monitoring stations which are

visually intrusive, tagging and bench marking

systems, aerial overflights for research

purposes, establishment of grazing enclosures,

the use of small generating stations to power

sampling equipment, and reasonable action in

the case of serious threats to site integrity. ’

This dialogue might also open the issue

of when recreational users are willing to accept

scientific intrusion into their wilderness

experience; it might consider site closure

109
because of serious threats to site integrity by

disturbances which originate with the users. In

the case of dieback of high elevation

coniferous forest, for example, would

backpackers consider it acceptable to erect

visually intrusive pollution monitoring towers?

What if there were no dieback evident but

pollution levels were thought to be increasing?

(4) Standards should be set for all

wilderness in tern-6 of monitoring site integrity.

All agencies should identify major existing or

pending problems, on all scales. Even though

the NPS has taken the lead in this area, it

should be noted that many of their properties

have had major unnatural disturbances which

have gone undocumented for decades. Both

the European wild boar and the balsam woolly

adelgid were in the Great Smokies for 20 years

before any serious research on their impacts

was undertaken. Many Park Service

wilderness areas still do not have vegetation

monitoring systems or reliable census data for

endangered species. Although many parks have

made great strides in pollution monitoring,

most are ill prepared to deal with climate

change, and on the coast, with sea level rise.

In “State of the Parks 1980: A Report to

Congress” (NPS 1980) the Biosphere Reserve

parks, which certainly have some of the best

scientific data bases available, reported only 30

percent documentation of exotic species threats,

7 percent documentation of air pollution

threats, and 15 percent documentation of water

quality threats (see also Mack and others

1983).

Similar efforts need to be made to

determine the extent of threats to the ecological

integrity of wilderness, and then to expand

scientific research programs accordingly.

(5) The agencies should consider

expanding base operating facilities for scientists

desiring to work in wilderness. This might be

the addition of simple base camps or covered

shelters outside the wilderness, but with good

access to main trail systems or to valuable

study areas (lakes, undisturbed stream valleys,

high elevations, old-growth forest). Scientists

need places to keep supplies. Refrigeration,

electrical power, and running water are also

helpful for processing samples. These facilities

certainly do not need to be in wilderness, but

they need to be close by since working in

wilderness increases sample collection and

transportation time so greatly. In some cases,

universities or colleges may be willing to

cooperate in facilities maintenance.

With restricted agency budgets and the

problems of getting in and out of wilderness,

further cooperation between groups would be

highly desirable. University-based researchers

may be willing to find funding for wilderness

projects themselves and some wilderness areas

could be used for nondestructive class projects.

Private research foundations and conservation

organizations such as Earthwatch and the

Sierra Club may be willing to assist in

integrity monitoring. As the nation tackles

federal budget deficits, the agencies’ funding

may be too limited to carry the monitoring

burden on their own.

As of this writing, the U.S. National

Park Service was in the process of redrafting

its wilderness management policies, and was

adjusting and standardizing policies on

wilderness monitoring (“Wilderness

preservation and management,” U.S. National

Park Service, 1988). These proposed new

policies will shortly be available for public

review:

(1) Clearly encourage non-destructive

research within the management objectives of

the wilderness;

(2) Allow hydrologic, hydrometeorologic,

seismographic, and other research and

monitoring devices to be placed in wilderness,

if the desired information is essential and the

proposed device is the minimum tool necessary

to accomplish the objective;

(3) Directly instruct the parks to begin

wilderness monitoring programs for

anthropogenic impacts and physical and

biological change.

These policies will tend to solve some of

the difficulties surrounding the use of

structures and markers for permanent

monitoring, and should encourage a more

uniform program of site integrity monitoring.

Although many parks are already undertaking

wilderness monitoring, the new policies should

expand these activities.

110
The proposed policies may tend to

discourage certain types of basic research,

however, because they require that:

(1) A research project address a need

identified in a park’s resources management

plan;

(2) The project address a stated

wilderness management objective;

(3) There be no alternative to its being

conducted in the wilderness.

This author feels that wilderness status

places enough restrictions on most projects to

discourage casual efforts, and that forcing

science into a management framework tends to

inhibit many descriptive and ecosystem

oriented efforts. Wilderness managers should

in some cases try to attract projects that could

be done elsewhere so they obtain basic data on

the wilderness site. Wilderness managers

should consider the potential long-term benefits

of gathering scientific information, even if it

does not appear to be immediately useful; we

are, after all, frequently short-sighted about

what will be ecologically useful in two or three

decades. Further, the Wilderness Act itself

gives no indication that scientific research

should be restricted only to that which must be

conducted on the site, no more than recreation

should be restricted only to those activities

which have to be undertaken in wilderness.

Criteria concerning possible adverse research

caused impacts to wilderness are more

appropriate. Admittedly, in some parks with a

great deal of research use, a “carrying

capacity” might need to be established for

basic research projects, because multiple

projects may cause excessive disturbance of

sensitive ecosystems. It should be noted that

the proposed NPS policies do not consider

research an important component of wilderness,

nor is there a formal statement of service to

the scientific community. This author suggests

that limiting research to present management

concerns and to projects that “must” be done

onsite could discourage many desirable

research efforts.

As a final note on conceptual problems,

it is important to recognize that present

wilderness legislation reflects a late 19th and

early 20th century view of what threatens site

integrity and how science is conducted in

isolated regions. The legislation assumes that

direct human impacts will be of the highest

concern, and if activities such as logging are

stopped, the site will return to natural

condition. Site management then has to

concentrate on the potential impacts of

recreationists. Today, roblems originating

across a continent may damage distant

wilderness.

The legislation also seems to assume

(there is no direct mention of this) that science

will be conducted in a natural history mode.

Simply excluding roads and human exploitation

will make the site attractive. Today, many

types of research necessary for protecting the

wilderness areas themselves require

sophisticated equipment and laboratory

analysis. Wildlife census, bird observation, and

plant collecting are still very valuable, but we

may also need high towers to trap pollutants,

and special power sources to run sequential

samplers. If we cannot adjust our wilderness

management to meet today’s environmental

threats and today’s scientific methods, we will

not only inhibit scientific progress, but we will

ultimately lose the wilderness.

REFERENCES

Butler, Lisa M. and Rebecca S. Roberts, 1986.

Use of wilderness areas for research.

Proceedings - National WIldemess

Research Conference: Current Research,

Fort Collins, CO, July 23-26, 1985.

U.S. Forest Service, Intermountain

Research Station, Ogden UT, Gen. Tech.

Rep. INT-212, pp. 398-405.

Franklin, Jerry F., 1987. Scientific use of

wilderness. Proceedings - National

Wilderness Research Conference: Issues,

State-of-Knowledge, Future Directions,

Fort Collins, CO, July 23-26, 1985.

U.S. Forest Service, Intermountain

Research Station, Ogden UT, Gen. Tech.

Rep. INT-220, pp. 42-46.

Mack, Alison, William, P. Gregg, Susan P.

Bratton, and Peter S. White, 1983. A

survey of ecological inventory,

monitoring, and research in U.S.

111
National Park Service Biopshere

Reserves. Biol. Conserv. 26: 33-45.

U.S. National Park Service, 1980. State of the

Parks, 1980: A Report to Congress.

Office of Science and Technology and

i.t National Park Service, Washington,

. .

U.S. National Park Service, 1988. Wilderness

preservation and management. Draft

policies statement , mirmo. U.S. National

Park Service, Washington, D.C.

White, Peter S. and Susan P. Bratton, 1980.

After preservation< Philosophical and

practical problems of change. Biol.

Conserv. 18: 241-55.

112
TH E STATE OF ECOLOGICAL RESEARCH

IN FOREST SERVICE W ILDERNESS

Sarah E. Greene and Jerry F. Franklin*

ABSTRACT

Research on natural processes w ith in

Forest Se rvice w ild e rness areas is defined and

d iscussed. Current w iid erness research , oth e r

th an recreation- oriente d , is look ed at in th e

context of ecosystem research on natural

processes. Research needs are presente d . Th e

apparent lack of ecosystem research on natural

processes is a result of regulations, attitud e,

logistics, and fund ing- Re com m endations for

dealing w ith th ese problem s are m ade.

INTRODUCTION

The study of the natural processes of an

unaltered environment has become increasingly

important as humankind’s effects are becoming

more pervasive and apparent. Studies in

laboratories and on degraded ecosystems have

value, but ecological studies that collect

baseline data on and improve knowledge of

how natural ecosystems function is essential to

appraising and mitigating adverse effects on

the environment. Large natural areas, such as

are provided by wilderness areas, National

Parks, and research natural areas, are needed to

provide the laboratories or settings for the

study of truly natural processes.

Our definition of the study of natural

processes emphasizes research on how

ecosystems function, on the relationship of

natural biological processes to the abiotic

environment, and to the collection of baseline

data to describe the “natural” state. This

information is generally gathered in a

nondestructive and non-manipulative way.

What we learn is how nature functions in the

absence of human interference.

Many wilderness areas provide excellent

laboratories for this kind of scientific research

because they contain whole drainages where

land and water interactions can be studied on a

range of scales; they often contain animal

populations whose entire range and habitat

needs are met within the wilderness; they are

large enough to include a mosaic of vegetation

types and ages on comparable sites; and they

frequently provide excellent areas to study the

natural background levels of environmental

pollutants (Franklin 198 1).

Forest Service wilderness areas should be

playing an important role in providing these

natural laboratories but, unfortunately, they am

not. Research as a valid use of wilderness has

not been accepted and applied. Basic

ecological studies have generally not been

encouraged or supported in wilderness. In this

paper we examine the present and potential

scientific use of Forest Service wilderness areas

as it relates to understanding ecological

systems and determining trends in

environmental conditions. We also make some

recommendations on changes in present

wilderness policy.

TYPES OF WILDERNESS RESEARCH

The goals and objectives of the Forest

Service Manual (2320.2, 2324.4) concerning

scientific research in wilderness are aimed at

protecting naturalness and diversity. This can

involve two kinds of research--basic research

in wilderness and applied management research

on wilderness. Basic research in wilderness

has broad societal applications, in this case the

generation of knowledge. The knowledge may

have no direct benefit to wilderness but uses

wilderness as a control point. This kind of

research, which includes providing adequate

* Research Foreste r, Pacific North w est Research Station, Corvallis, OR ; Ch ief Plant Ecologist, Pacific

North w est Research Station and Bloedel Professor of Ecosystem Analysis, Unive rsity of W ash ington, Seattle,

W A.

113
baseline data, is frequently long-term in nature

and expensive.

The second type of research, applied

management research on wilderness, is

designed to help maintain and manage

wilderness. This most often involves an

assessment of effects, usually related to

recreational use of one kind or another, and

leads to recommendations for mitigation

measures. Because baseline information on

natural processes is needed to assess

adequately effects on natural systems, basic

research is badly needed.

PRESENT RESEARCH USE

Basic ecological research on natural

processes and their response to environmental

change has been limited in Forest Service

wilderness. Butler and Roberts (1986) made a

fairly exhaustive tabulation of research in this

wilderness and found at least 50 percent of it

was recreation-related; earth science accounted

for 26 percent (mostly U.S. Geological Survey

reports on geology of wilderness areas); botany

and zoology accounted for 14 percent, other

research for 5 percent, and general ecology for

4 percent. The category of general ecology

relates most closely to our concern for research

on natural processes and their response to

environmental change.

The senior author spoke to personnel in

every Forest Service Region and many

National Forests in the country to ascertain (1)

what research, other than recreation-oriented,

has taken place or is ongoing in wilderness

areas; (2) whether this research is ecosystemoriented; and (3) what perceived research

needs, other than recreation-oriented, exist.

Most of the reported research can be

categorized into six major topics: wildlife,

fii, vegetation, geomorphology,

riparian/aquatic, and atmospheric deposition.

Most wildlife research is species-specific,

with studies of habitat and patterns of

movement most common. Studies include

research on the gray wolf (Canis lupus) in

Region 9 (Eastern Region); transplants of

California bighorn sheep (Q$ canadensis);

movements of deer (Gdocoileus & and elk

(Cervus spp.) herds; feeding habits of elk,

autecology of the gray-crowned rosy finch

(Leucostict~ gctoa), mountain lion (I%&

concolor), and wolverine (Gulo luscus).

Studies relating to fii history, fire

effects, fire-return intervals, etc., have been

done in numerous wilderness areas (Regions 1,

2.3.5.8 [Northern, Rocky Mountain,

Southwestern, Pacific Southwest, and

Southern], and 9) with the purpose of hying to

reintroduce fire into an ecosystem(s) where

historically it has been suppressed. In the

early 1970’s an extensive fire history study was

begun in the Gila Wilderness in Region 3.

Fire-return intervals in ponderosa pine (Pinus

Donderosa) communities were determined and

the relationship of fire to succession and

wildlife was studied. Fire studies are being

used in the fire management plan for a

particular wilderness, but many questions

concerning air quality monitoring, such as

defining airsheds, still need answers. Other

fire studies in wilderness include the fire

history of the Boundary Waters Canoe Area in

Region 9, fire ecology of Coulter pine (Pin*

coulteri), fire ecology of chaparral, and the

relationship of burning to several rare and

endangered plants.

Vegetation studies in wilderness areas

have been s risingly limited. Very little

general classurr&! ’ cation of vegetation types has

been done within individual wilderness areas.

Region 6 (Pacific Northwest), which has a

strong vegetation classification program, has

discouraged its ecologists from sampling in

wilderness. Permanent plots designed to

follow growth and structural changes in a

chronosequence of forest stands have been

established in several wilderness areas in

Region 6, but most of these studies were

initially started in research natural areas that

were eventually included in wilderness. One

extensive vegetation study was done in the

Three Sisters Wilderness with support from the

Man and Biosphere Program. Cole (1982)

classified vegetation in two drainages in the

Eagle Cap Wilderness, Oregon, and discussed

the value of doing it. Several California

wilderness areas have been subjects of broad

vegetation classifications. Studies on

vegetation change in mountain meadows have

taken place in Regions 5 and 6, but these have

generally been in response to human damage.

114
Some of the most extensive research in

wilderness areas is geologic, including studies

of vulcan&m, glaciation, and geomorphic

processes. Much of this work is legislatively

mandated assessments of mineral potential

conducted by the U.S. Geological Survey.

Some studies on erosion and large landslides

have been done in Region 5.

Aquatic and riparian studies have been

mostly associated with fish rehabilitation

projects or fish introductions. Little work has

been done in the way of classification or

productivity. A National Science Foundation

study, which looked at changes in aquatic

community composition, production, and

energy flow, was conducted on the

River-of-No-Return Wilderness in Idaho.

The final category, atmospheric

deposition, has recently received much

attention. The U.S. Environmental Protection

Agency’s survey of lakes included many lakes

administered by Forest Service Wilderness.

Regions 2, 4 (Intermountain), and 9 have

studies in wilderness on air pollution and its

effect on lichens, and very general air quality

studies have been begun in Regions 1, 2, 4,

and 9. Some of these studies are only

monitoring visual quality and have little

baseline data to precede them.

Most of the research being done tends to

be short-term and lacks a holistic emphasis.

Although every study contributes to our overall

understanding of ecological processes, baseline

information on a wider range of natural

processes is needed. Such studies need to be

carefully designed to identify trends and

improve our understanding of natural

processes. A repeated series of measurements

on permanent sample plots with certainty of

funding is badly needed to identify trends.

Most of the support for research in

wilderness is coming from non-Forest Service

sources. The U.S. Geological Survey

supported all the mineral classification work.

The Environmental Protection Agency, the

Department of Energy, and the National

Science Foundation have supported much of

the atmospheric deposition research. Funds for

most of the research work reported in

California wilderness areas have been provided

by State universities.

In contrast, the National Park Service has

been more accommodating in opening its

wilderness areas to gathering baseline

ecological data and studying natural processes.

As an example, an ecosystem study on the

South Fork Hoh River in Olympic National

Park has provided useful information for

managed landscapes outside the park as well as

for park management. One of the research

results on the South Fork demonstrated the

importance of off-channel habitats to fish

production (Starkey and others 1982). This

has led to changes in attitude outside the park

where anadromous fisheries and timber

harvesting occur together. Two large elk

enclosures erected in 1978-79 have provided

dramatic evidence of the effects of elk on

vegetation composition and structure,

Additional ecosystem research has been added

to the Hoh drainage as part of the National

Acid Precipitation Assessment Program,

including quantitative studies of nutrient

cycling.

Specific research needs were repeatedly

mentioned by Forest Service personnel.

Everyone agreed that basic inventories of plant

and animal populations are needed. The most

commonly mentioned topic was fire and its

role in natural ecosystem processes. This topic

has many aspects: vegetative structure and

composition, successional processes, nutrient

dynamics, and air quality. Most people

seemed to agree that we need to know more

about succession to understand the effects of

grazing and fire suppression. Several people

expressed interest in studies of other natural

perturbations such as insect epidemics.

Diversity was another topic that was often

mentioned. Although the term was not usually

defined, the primary concern was lack of

knowledge about the effects of management

activities on diversity. Finally, air quality and

atmospheric deposition were stated as major

research needs. This topic is quite involved

and ranges from the complexities of acid rain

studies to merely defining the ah-shed for a

particular wilderness. Overall, the discussion

with Forest Service personnel indicated

consensus on the need to understand natural

processes occurring in wilderness and a

concurrent need to integrate this information

into wilderness management.

115
TRENDS IN RESEARCH USE

Scientific use of Forest Service

wilderness is minimal, especially as it relates

to the natural functioning of ecosystems.

Because there is no system to record what is

taking place, trends in research use are

extremely hard to discern. There does not

appear, however, to be any great increase in

research use since the first wilderness areas

were established. As discussed above, most

research tends to come about in reaction to an

adverse effect on the environment. The

wilderness areas most commonly used for

research are: (1) in California, especially the

heavily used areas near Southern California;

(2) areas close to universities; and (3)

wilderness areas in Region 1 where most

wilderness researchers in the Forest Service

reside.

Butler and Roberts (1986) found that

larger areas received greater research attention,

and that use increases from dry to wetland

areas. They also state that wilderness

management concerns tend to dictate the

dominant research topics. Because the Forest

Service has managed its wilderness primarily

for recreation, research has been primarily

directed toward recreation although recreation

yields no direct benefit to wilderness. Finally,

people in Regions 1 and 5 feel that

inaccessibility of wilderness is a major

deterrent to researchers.

PROBLEMS AND RECOMMENDATIONS

There are serious long-term implications

to society and to wilderness management

because of the low level of ecosystem-based

research. Though the wilderness system is

large and represents an impressive

commitment, society is not accumulating the

knowledge necessary to understand the basic

processes operating in natural ecosystems and

how these processes are affected by

environmental changes. This has several

consequences for wilderness preservation.

First, management is not getting the kind of

information it needs to identify threats to

wilderness and to develop management

practices consistent with the wilderness

concept. Second, scientific values as a

justification for maintaining and expanding the

wilderness system will be hard to substantiate.

Why, then, isn’t more wilderness research

being done on Forest Service land? First, we

must look at the formal limits imposed by

Forest Service regulations and then at other

limits.

Regulations and Non-Conforming Uses

Justification for the scientific use of

wilderness is documented in numerous Federal

statutes and has been discussed at length in

articles and at symposia (Lucas 1986, 1987).

The 1964 Wilderness Act, the 1969 National

Environmental Policy Act, the 1974 Resources

Planning Act, and the 1976 National Forest

Management Act all endorse the use of

wilderness for scientific research, either in the

context of an expressed use or for evaluation

of management practices. The Forest Service

manual direction is more specific than the

legislative acts, and this specificity can be

restrictive in nature. The research must be

shown to be compatible with the preservation

of the wilderness environment; research

proposals should be reviewed to ensure that

areas outside the wilderness could not provide

similar research opportunities; and exceptions

to the equipment restrictions are to be made

only if the research is essential to meeting the

minimum requirements for administering the

wilderness. These restrictions pertain to any

kind of research.

Wilderness legislation has allowed for

too many conflicting or non-conforming uses

that have created problems for wilderness

research. Jn some instances domestic livestock

grazing has compromised the naturalness of

meadows and riparian zones to the point where

the “natural” community no longer exists.

Hunting and trapping may detract from the

potential scientific value of studying natural

populations of game animals, and may have

subtle effects on the populations of nongame

animals. Fish stocking of previously barren

lakes has affected the trophic structure of many

lakes. Human traffic has sometimes caused the

introduction of exotic species (Franklin 1987).

Regulations relating specifically to

scientific use are also a problem. Marking of

116
I

permanent sample plots with stakes or re-bar,

essential for future relocation, has generally

been discouraged. Electronic equipment that is

necessary for many types of research but

requires a power source is prohibited. Shelters

for meteorological equipment or temporary

gauging stations are generally discouraged.

The inaccessibility and ruggedness of many

wilderness areas can make sampling much

more difficult. Often heavy equipment use and

the need to expedite transportation of samples

is prevented or inhibited by distance and

prohibition of any kind of motorized

equipment. However, in some instances the

use of motorized equipment, for instance

helicopters, may have the least impact on the

wilderness resource. In essence the very best

equipment and methods of research on natural

processes often cannot be, currently used within

wilderness boundaries under present policies.

Other Problems

Three additional problems concerning the

lack of scientific use of wilderness are attitude,

logistics, and funding. Attitude is, perhaps, the

most serious problem and the hardest to deal

with, To begin with, scientific research on

natural ecosystem processes has not been

highly valued as a part of management

planning. Managers have traditionally only

supported research to solve their immediate

problems. Such studies tend to be short-term

and lack a holistic perspective. Long-term data

that do not serve their immediate needs are

viewed as too costly and too vague in

objectives and likely results. Scientists, on the

other hand, have traditionally been

unappreciative of management’s problems or

concerns, have viewed managers as only

interested in short-term studies, and are often

ignorant of wilderness regulations. This

mutual misunderstanding has done little to

further scientific knowledge and has certainly

done a disservice to wilderness management

and preservation. What is lacking is a strong

advocate for scientific research on natural

systems and its relation to wilderness

management problems.

In justifying ecosystem-based research in

wilderness, one is often forced to define

whether this is applied management research

on wilderness or basic research in wilderness.

The latter category is usually thought to have

no direct benefit to wilderness, unlike a study

on user effects. Wilderness as a control site,

as a baseline ecosystem that can tell us

something about the world around us, is

currently not what wilderness is perceived as

providing, if the level of support is any

indication.

Logistics is complicated in wilderness

areas because of inaccessibility and ruggedness

of the terrain. Butler and Roberts (1986)

found that the larger wilderness areas received

the most research use, but our telephone survey

indicated that large size can also be a deterrent.

Many wilderness areas are in terrain that is

physically very difficult to get around in,

especially if you have to carry more than your

own personal gear.

Funding is a perennial problem that

severely restrains research programs.

Substantial research money is often spent on

logistics, out of concern for maintaining the

“wilderness character,” which then decreases

the amount available for actual research. With

less money available for sampling, the scope of

the research is reduced and the level of

uncertainty about one’s data often increases.

Managers and scientists mi ht have differences

of opinion on what level ofuncertainty is

acceptable. Who decides the balance?

Equitability is also an issue. East coast

wilderness managers believe that the vast

majority of money that is available for research

in wilderness goes to Western wilderness areas.

When funding is limited, resources are

generally allocated to immediate, critical (a

perception) problems.

Recommendations

How, then, can these issues be dealt

with? Changing attitudes is the major

challenge. What is needed is a strong sense of

advocacy, at national and regional as well as

individual forest levels, for scientific research

on natural ecosystems that includes wilderness

management problems as part of an integrated

package. Mechanisms need to be developed to

bring managers, at all three levels, together

with scientists to determine research needs and

options, and to formulate long-term plans.

Managers need to communicate to scientists

117
their needs and concerns, while attempting to

be more flexible in their regulations and time

frames. Scientists need to educate managers to

the potential benefits of long-term ecological

research, while showing interest and concern

for managers’ immediate needs. Users need to

provide feedback and support to both groups.

They need to make it clear that they care about

the naturalness and integrity of the wilderness

ecosystems, and they need to understand that

they are also part of the problem. A possible

mode of advocacy has appeared in Region 1.

A wilderness ecosystem committee has been

formed that includes managers and scientists

from the Forest Service, National Park Service,

Fish and Wildlife Service, State Parks, State

Game Departments, Intermountain Forest and

Range Experiment Station, and the University

of Montana.

A fresh look at wilderness regulations is

in order. Grazing, hunting, trapping, and fish

stocking of lakes needs to be reevaluated in the

context of the need for monitoring of

long-term baseline data and research on natural

processes. The use of shelters, permanent

sample plot stakes, and occasional motorized

equipment should be permitted after

considering the potential benefits of the

research. A case in point involves a large

study done by the Rocky Mountain Forest and

Range Experiment Station. The study involved

developing guidelines to assess current

conditions of wilderness ecosystems as part of

a larger program to protect air quality as

mandated in the Clean Air Act of 1977. The

research was ultimately sited outside wilderness

because of the resistance to power-driven

instrumentation, instrument shelters, etc. In

commenting on the problem of acquiring

exemptions from the regulations, the scientists

state “In all likelihood, then, a request for an

exemption is likely to be refused unless it can

be demonstrated unequivocally (emphasis

added) that the data to be gathered under the

exemption are absolutely necessary, and all

possible alternatives to the exemption have

been considered, and the data cannot be

gathered in any other manner” (Fox and others

1987). Yet their research was supposed to

yield information on current conditions within

wilderness ecosystems. Inflexibility in

regulations should be weighed against the

potential scientific information made available

to managers. At the same time, scientists need

to adopt new techniques for data gathering.

Perhaps specific areas within wilderness

might be designated for ecosystem research.

In the West, research natural areas have been

identified in wilderness with this specific

purpose in mind. Designated use does not run

counter to wilderness direction; wilderness

areas have many kinds of designated

uses--camping areas, grazing areas, stock-use

areas, stocked lakes for fishing, etc.

Wilderness management zoning is not a new

idea (Haas and others 1987).

Regarding the last issue, no one will be

surprised to hear that more money is essential.

Scientists and managers need to educate

decision makers about critical long-term

problems. Much can be learned from the

National Park Service which has a much better

record of research with an emphasis on

understanding natural processes. The NPS

often has proportionately more research staff

and money dedicated to this pursuit. For

instance, Glacier National Park has 10

scientists on its staff concentrating on

wilderness- ecosystem process research. Most

ecosystem research occurring in Forest Service

wilderness has relied on outside support such

as the National Science Foundation. The

Service itself needs to provide more support

for research of this kind. Service support also

needs to include more than just money. Ways

of expediting National Science Foundation,

university, and other Federally funded research

should be pursued, including changes in

attitude as well as more flexible regulations.

CONCLUSIONS

Th e Forest Service Manual (2320.2) lists

five objectives for wilderness management.

Number 4 states “Protect and perpetuate

wilderness character and public values

including, but not limited to, opportunities for

scientific study, . . .‘I, and number 5 states

“Gather information and carry out research . . .

to increase understanding of wilderness

ecology, . . .I’ Both statements stress scientific

study of ecological processes is both valid and

necessary. Such research involves

measurement of long-term processes, whether it

is changes in environmental conditions,

ecosystem succession, or population dynamics

118
ecosystem succession, or population dynamics

of various organisms. Carefully planned and

integrated, it can provide a holistic view of

wilderness ecosystems and improve

management for wilderness attributes. Very

little of such work is being done. Quite

simply, Forest Service wilderness areas are

under-utilized for ecosystem research,

considering the diversity of ecosystems and the

vast acreage that is rarely used by

recreationists.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

The authors thank P. Brown, D. Cole, B.

Ferrell, A. McKee, and S. McKool for

reviewing this manuscript. Their interest in the

topic and their thoughtful and incisive

comments added substantially to the fii

manuscript.

REFERENCES

Butler, Lisa Mathis, and Rebecca S. Roberts.

1986. Use of wilderness areas for

research. IN Robert C. Lucas. 1986.

Proceedings, National Wilderness

Research Conference: Current Research.

Fort Collins, CO. Intermountain

Research Station, Ogden, UT. GTR

INT-212. p. 398-405.

Cole, David N. 1982. Vegetation of two

drainages in the Eagle Cap Wilderness,

Wallowa Mountains, Oregon.

Intermountain Forest and Range

Experiment Station, Missoula, MT,

Research Paper INT-288. 42 pp.

Fox, Douglas D., J. Christopher Bernabo, and

Betsy Hood. 1987. Guidelines for

establishing current physical, chemical,

and biological conditions of remote

alpine and subalpine ecosystems. Rocky

Mountain Forest and Range Experiment

Station, Fort Collins, CO. GTR-RM

146. 148 p.

Franklin, Jerry F. 1987. Scientific use of

wilderness. IN Proceedings, National

Wilderness Conference: Issues,

State-of-Knowledge, Future Decisions.

Fort Collins, CO. Intermountain Forest

and Range Experiment Station, Ogden,

UT. GTR-INT 220. p. 42-46.

Haas, Glenn E. , B. L. Driver, Perry J. Brown,

and Robert G. Lucas. 1987. Wilderness

management zoning. Journal of Forestry.

58(12):17-21.

Lucas, Robert C., compiler. 1986.

Proceedings, National Wilderness

Research Conference: Current Research.

Intermountain Forest and Range

Experiment Station, Ogden, UT.

GTR-INT 212. 553 p.

Lucas, Robert C., compiler. 1987.

Proceedings, National Wilderness

Research Conference: Issues,

State-of-Knowledge, Future Decisions.

Intermountain Forest and Range

Experiment Station, Ogden, UT.

GTR-INT 220. 369~.

Starkey, Edward E., Jerry F. Franklin, and Jean

W. Matthews. 1982. Ecological

Research in National Parks of the Pacific

Northwest. National Park Service

Cooperative Park Studies Unit, Oregon

State University Forest Research

Laboratory, Corvallis, OR. 142 p.4.

Franklin, Jerry F. 198 1. Wilderness for

baseline ecosystem studies. IN

Proceedings of XVII IUFRO World

Congress. p. 37-48.

119
SOCIAL RESEARCH IN W ILDERNESS:

MAN IN NATURE

Robert E. Manning*

ABSTRACT

W ild e rness’ h as special value as a social

science laboratory for und e rstand ing m an’s

relationsh ip to nature. Th is paper review s

h um an use of w ild e rness w ith th e purpose of

und e rstand ing th is relationsh ip bette r and

illustrating th e value of w ild e rness for social

research .

INTRODUCTION ’

Human use of wilderness has been the

subject of considerable study. From this study

it is apparent that wilderness can have many

uses. The Wilderness Act itself is suggestive

where it states that “wilderness areas shall be

devoted to the public purposes of recreational,

scenic, scientific, educational, conservation, and

historical use” (Wilderness Act 1964). The

following is a brief survey of the multiple uses

of wilderness in contemporary American

society.

Like other authors in this colloquium, I

was assigned a topic. My topic was social

research in wilderness. The colloquium

organizers went on to describe my task as

addressing research on human use of

wilderness. But this is a big topic; social

research is broad and diverse and invites many

interpretations. After puzzling over my

assignment, I concluded that the greatest value

of wilderness for social research is as a

laboratory to study man’s relationship to nature.

After all, wilderness represents the natural

environment in its most pure and unmodified

form. What better way to study man and his

relationship to the natural world than to study

man in the wilderness?

Wilderness Recreation

But this is still a broad topic. How

could it be operationalized for the purposes of

this paper? I decided to focus on what I

believe is the key phrase in my assignment:

“human use of wilderness”. What does

research tell us about how we use and value

wilderness? A review of the literature on this

topic should provide important insights on

man’s relationship to nature while at the same

time illustrating the usefulness of wilderness to

social research.

Perhaps the most obvious or readily

apparent value of wilderness is for recreation.

People use wilderness directly as the focus of

and setting for outdoor recreation activity. In

absolute terms the statistics are impressive. It

is estimated that designated wilderness areas

within the National Forests accommodated 12

million visitor-days of recreation in 1985.

Backcountry areas within the National Parks

accommodated approximately 1.7 million

overnight stays the same year (Stankey and

Lucas 1986). Relative statistics, however,

present a somewhat different picture.

Wilderness recreation accounted for only 5.3

percent of all outdoor recreation within the

National Forests in 1985 (Stankey and Lucas

1986). Moreover, it is estimated that only 6 to

15 percent of the U.S. population has ever

visited a designated wilderness area (Opinion

Research Corporation 1977; Wallwork 1984;

Young 1980).

HUMAN USE OF WILDERNESS

But the value of wilderness for

recreation cannot be measured solely on the

basis of the number of people who visit.

Much of its value lies as an anchor of the

primitive end of a spectrum of recreation

opportunities. Recreation research has revealed

that there are many tastes in outdoor recreation

and that there needs to be a corresponding

* Professor, Sch ool of Natural Resource s, University of Verm ont, Burlington, VT.

120
diversity of opportunities to ensure a high

quality outdoor recreation system (Manning

1986). This concept has recently been

operationalized formally as the Recreation

Opportunity Spectrum (ROS) (Brown and

others 1978; Brown and others 1979; Clark

and Stankey 1979; Driver and Brown 1978).

Wilderness recreation is one specialized type of

recreation opportunity emphasizing naturalness,

solitude, and freedom.. As one type of

recreation opportunity it is inherently no more

nor less valuable than any other type that may

be found within ROS. Its value lies in its

distinct contribution to a greater system of

recreation opportunities. ,I

However, wilderness does hold special

recreation value to some people. Psychological

research indicates that, like ,most other human

activity, outdoor recreation is goal directed:

people participate in outdoor recreation to

satisfy certain motives. Driver and associates

have conducted extensive tests of recreation

motives using Recreation Experience

Preference scales (Driver 1976; Driver and

Cooksey 1977; Driver and Knopf 1976; Haas

and others 1980). A number of the motives

found important to selected samples of

recreationists are closely associated with

wilderness (see, for example, Brown and Haas

1980; Driver and others 1987; Knopf and Lime

1984; Schreyer and Roggenbuck 1978).

Examples of such motives include enjoying

nature, physical fitness, reduction of tensions,

escaping noise/crowds, outdoor learning,

independence, introspection, achievement, and

risk taking. Without wilderness recreation

opportunities, people seeking to satisfy these

motives may be unfulfilled.

Wilderness also holds special value for

more “pure” or highly developed forms of

recreation. Sax (1980), in reflecting on a

recreation policy for National Parks, references

the philosophical writings of Frederick Law

Olmsted who emphasizes the need for

opportunities for “reflective” recreation. Some

forms of recreation evolve to exercise the

“contemplative faculty” of participants where

the emphasis is placed on technique and setting

without the distractions of technology or other

societal intrusions. The philosophical literature

of fishing (Waltin and Catlin 1925), hunting

(Gasset 1972). and mountain climbing (Rowell

1977) is suggestive of the need for natural,

undisturbed environments to practice the

highest forms of these recreation pursuits.

Some writers refer to these forms of recreation

as “wilderness-dependent” (Hendee and others

1977). There is some limited empirical

evidence of this phenomenon. Evolution of

recreation activity from novice to more

specialized forms has been documented for

samples of fishermen (Bryan 1977), whitewater rafters (Munley and Smith 1976). and

campers (Burch and Wenger 1967). In each

case, preferences evolve toward more natural

settings which provide greater challenge for

enhanced skills and experience.

Spiritual Values in Wilderness

Nature is such an imposing, powerful

and all-embracing element of our world that its

relationship to things spiritual or even religious

is inevitable. Symbolic of this relationship is

the fact that the word “wilderness” appears

nearly 300 times in the Old and New

Testaments (Nash 1982). However, wilderness

has been subject to conflicting spiritual

interpretations. The Puritans of colonial

America, for example, viewed wilderness as

the antithesis of God. Within conservative

religious doctrine, wilderness was generally

interpreted as the physical and spiritual

opposite of the Garden of Eden (Nash 1982).

Perhaps nowhere is this more evident than in

the Book of Joel which, in recounting the story

of Adam and Eve, states that “The land is like

the garden of Eden before them, but after them

a desolate wilderness” (Joel 2:3).

Following the early colonial experience,

American religious interpretations of nature

became somewhat more benign, though their

outcome was no more favorable. Following

the teachings of Genesis, man was instructed to

“be fruitful, and multiply, and replenish the

earth, and subdue it: and have dominion over

the fish of the sea, and over the fowl of the

air, and over every living thing that moveth

upon the earth” (Genesis 1:28). Wilderness

was seen simply as a storehouse of raw

materials for man’s earthly use, Nature was

exploited accordingly and wilderness

diminished.

More recently, nature, and its ultimate

expression as wilderness, has been subject to

121
more favorable spiritual treatment. Beginning

in the 19th century, the Concord intellectuals,

led by Ralph Waldo Emerson and Henry David

Thoreau, formulated their complex philosophy

of transcendentalism. Postulating a series of

higher spiritual truths, transcendentalism

suggested nature as a setting or even metaphor

for such truths. “Nature is the symbol of the

spirit” wrote Emerson (Emerson 1883).

Thoreau went further, suggesting that nature

was God’s purest creation and that the best

way to know God and divine revelation was to

get as close as possible to nature. The wilder

and purer was nature, the better. In fact,

nature may even be the hysical manifestation

of God. “Is not nature, K‘ghtly read, that of

which she is commonly taken to be the symbol

merely?” asked Thoreau (Thoreau 1893a).

The transcendentalist interpretation of

nature has been eagerly accepted by many

wilderness enthusiasts. Notable among them is

John Muir who viewed nature as “a window

opening into heaven, a mirror reflecting the

Creator” (Muir 1911). Defending the Hetch

Hetchy valley within Yosemite National Park

from a proposed dam, Muir railed “Dam Hetch

Hetchy! As well dam for water tanks the

people’s cathedrals and churches, for no holier

temple has ever been consecrated by the heart

of man” (Muir 1912).

Today the transcendentalist tradition

continues. Environmental degradation is often

described as “desecration,” a term with obvious

religious overtones. John Denver celebrates

the “cathedral mountains” of the Rockies.

Spiritual values and personal introspection are

often cited as important motives for people

who visit wilderness areas (Driver and others

1987). A recent book by Graber has even

suggested that wilderness preservation might be

justified on the constitutional basis of

maintaining religious freedom (Graber 1976).

Wilderness and Culture

In the minds of many, wilderness has

contributed to the distinctiveness of American

culture. Nash, for example, notes that colonial

America, like most fledgling nations, was

defensive about its lack of established culture

(Nash 1982). Americans had no grand history,

art, or architecture which might compete with

that of their European ancestors. Rather, one

of the qualities which made America

distinctive was the grandness and wildness of

its nature. Many of America’s first

contributions to world culture celebrated its

wilderness heritage. William Cullen Bryant

was one of America’s first great poets to gain

international recognition and his subject was

the romantic American forests. James

Fennimore Cooper enjoyed a wide international

following for his novels about adventure in the

American wilderness. Thomas Cole, Frederick

Church, Albert Bierstadt, Thomas Moran, and

other American painters redefined the practice

of landscape art with their emphasis on the

power and sublimity of the American

wilderness landscape. The image of America

Enme;losely associated with its wilderness

Some suggest that wilderness shaped not

only America’s physical and mental image, but

its personality as well. The most definitive

treatment of this view is Frederick Jackson

Turner’s “frontier thesis” (Turner 1920).

Turner believed that the pioneers’ experience in

the wilderness of the American frontier marked

them with a sense of independence, rugged

individualism, and self-worth which defines a

distinctive American personality. Moreover,

these characteristics developed out of the

wilderness experience have been directly

translated into our distinctive form of

democratic government with its emphasis on

maintaining personal freedom. “Out of his

wilderness experience,” Turner wrote, “out of

the freedom of his opportunities, he fashioned

a formula for social regeneration--the freedom

of the individual to seek his own” (Turner

1920).

More recently, Wallace Stegner has

given contemporary meaning to wilderness as a

museum of our cultural heritage. The

wilderness of America presented an opportunity

for a new beginning, a place to build a better

society. Preserving wilderness now and into

the future celebrates our success and

symbolizes our continued potential. As such,

wilderness is “a part of the geography of hope”

(Stegner 1969).

122
Wilderness as Therapy

Wilderness has long been thought to

have therapeutic value in both a physical and

mental sense. Robert Marshall was one of the

fiit to write about these qualities in a serious

way. A prodigious hiker, Marshall’s own

adventures in the wilderness in the early 1900’s

convinced him of the physical benefits of

wilderness use. “Toting a fifty-pound pack

over an abominable trail, snowshoeing across a

blizzard-swept plateau or scaling some jagged

pinnacle which juts far above timber,” he

wrote, “all develop a body distinguished by

soundness, stamina and elan unknown amid

normal surroundings” (Marshall 1930). But the

fact is that most people don’t visit wilderness

often enough to develop or maintain a true

physical conditioning effect, Marshall also

claimed that wilderness had psychological

benefits. Marshall’s thinking was influenced

by Sigmund Freud and the developing science

of psychology which suggested that mental

dysfunctions were often caused by repressed

desires forced upon us by the constraints of

society (Nash 1982). Wilderness, argued

Marshall, provided an opportunity to release

those constraints and play out emotion and

instincts (Marshall 1930).

Therapeutic values of wilderness have

received considerable attention of late. A

substantial industry has grown up around these

potential values, led by Outward Bound and

the National Outdoor Leadership School. It is

estimated that there are now over 300 such

programs (Burton 1981). A large number of

studies have evolved at the same time which

attempt to explore and document the

therapeutic values of wilderness use’ Burton

(1981), for example, reviewed 72 studies of

Outward Bound-type programs. Most focused

on participant reports or tests of self-concept or

self-perception and most found a positive or

beneficial effect. Driver and associates have

conducted extensive tests of more general

wilderness recreationists using the Recreation

Experience Preference scales described earlier.

Self-concept-related preference items, such as

gaining a sense of self-confidence, are

consistently found to be important to a large

number of wilderness visitors (Driver and

others 1987). Though many of the wilderness

therapy studies have methodological

shortcomings, there is a growing body of

evidence to suggest that various therapeutic

benefits from wilderness are real and

forthcoming.

Esthetics of Wilderness

Esthetics is another area in which

wilderness has been subject to considerable

revision and reinterpretation. Mountains, for

example, were once generally considered as

“warts, pimples, blisters and other ugly

deformities on the Earth’s surface” (Nash

1982). The scientific advances of the

Enlightenment first suggested that the wilder

regions of the planet had some logic or order

to them. These places, in fact, must have been

created and shaped by God’s own hand. This

led to a more sympathetic and appreciative

view of nature which flowered in the Romantic

movement of the 17th and 18th centuries.

Edmund Burke formally expressed this new

esthetic of nature in his book “Philosophical

Enquiry into the Origin of Our Ideas of the

Sublime and Beautiful” published in 1757.

Wild nature, or wilderness, was still steeped

with horror and terror, but was beautiful at the

same time due to the awe and power it

signified within us. Wilderness was sublime.

It was this sublimity in nature that was first

captured and illustrated by the American

landscape painters described earlier (Nash

1982).

Robert Marshall developed additional

sophistication of wilderness esthetics. Marshall

recognized that nature possesses unique esthetic

characteristics: it is detached from all temporal

relationships in that it is not rooted in any one

period of human history; it has an

encompassing physical ambience in that we

can be literally surrounded by its beauty; it has

a dynamic beauty as it is always changing; it

has the potential to gratify all of the senses in

that it can be seen, heard, smelled, tasted, and

felt; and it provides the best opportunity for

pure or perfectly objective esthetic enjoyment

in that it is not created or affected by man

(Marshall 1930). Based on this philosophy of

esthetics, Marshall emphasized the special

contribution wilderness might make to the

quality of life. Asked how many wilderness

areas we need, Marshall replied “How many

Brahms symphonies do we need?” (Flint 1939).

Wilderness contributes to the quality of life

123
and we should have as many wilderness areas

as we can afford.

There is considerable evidence of the

esthetic value of wilderness today. The

photographs taken by millions of visitors to the

national parks and similar areas are symbolic

as are the calendars and coffee-table books

published by environmental groups and others.

The Recreation Experience Preference scales of

Driver and associates are again instructive.

The scale item “scenery” ranks as one of the

most important motives of wilderness visitors

(Driver and others 1987).

Ecology and Wilderkess

Ecology is a relatively new science. The

very word "ecology" (was not coined until the

1860’s by German evolutionist Ernest Haeckel

and means the study of living things and their

interrelation with their environment (Odum

1959). Ecology is a complex and emerging

science.

Rudimentary observations about

ecological relationships--and the meaning they

might have for wilderness preservation--were

made in the United States in the early 19th

century. It was during this time that George

Perkins Marsh witnessed the large-scale

clearing of Vermont hillsides for agriculture

(Curtis and others 1982; Lowenthal 1958).

Simultaneously he observed changes in

streamflow patterns--more flooding with

snowmelt and spring rains, and streams tended

to run dry more often in late summer. Marsh

theorized that it was the roots of trees which

helped bond the soil together and allow water

to percolate down slowly through the soil and

eventually filter into streams. This mechanism

provided a relatively constant source of stream

flow. Without trees and their roots, water ran

off the hillsides quickly, often washing the soil

away with it. Marsh published his

observations in 1864 in his important book

Man Bsed on man andNature. ’s tendency t o

disrupt the interrelationships in nature, Marsh

proposed keeping a large portion of “American

soil . . . as far as possible, in its primitive

condition” (Marsh 1864). His arguments were

influential in convincing the citizens of New

York to set aside the Adirondack region to

protect the quantity and quality of water which

flowed to downstate residents (Nash 1982).

This was one of the first actions of large-scale

wilderness preservation.

The environmental movement of today is

based largely on concern for ecological

relationships. Our current technological ability

to modify ecological relationships on a massive

scale may threaten our long term existence by

disrupting vital components of our environment

such as clean air and water, fertile soil, and a

stable climate. Setting aside large areas of our

natural environment as wilderness is viewed as

one way to protect our future well-being.

Wilderness serves another ecological

value in conserving biological and genetic

diversity. The number of species on earth is

unknown but generally estimated to exceed 10

million (Myers 1979). Although extinction of

species is a natural phenomenon, the rate of

extinction is believed to have increased sharply

in recent years due to human modification of

the environment (Ehrlich and Ehrlich 1981;

Myers 1979; Myers 1983). The loss of

biological and genetic diversity is of grave

concern because of its current and potential

usefulness to society. Plants and animals

provide many benefits to society through their

use in medicine, industry, and agriculture,

Since most species are still unidentified or

unstudied, their extinction poses a great

potential loss to society. Wilderness helps

preserve habitat, thus protecting endangered

species as well as providing for continued

evolution and speciation.

Wilderness and Science

It was noted above that the science of

ecology is relatively young. This means,

among other things, that there is much more to

be learned. Only about 3 percent of the

United States is designated wilderness. If

certain types of scientific knowledge can be

obtained only from natural ecosystems, then

wilderness holds special value for developing

scientific theory and knowledge. Wilderness

provides the only place, for example, to study

effectively large-scale ecological processes such

as forest succession and watershed function,

and to study wildlife such as grizzly bears and

wolves which have large home ranges. Some

suggest that we don’t yet fully appreciate the

124
knowledge that may be forthcoming from

wilderness. In the words of one environmental

writer, wilderness “holds answers to questions

man has not yet learned how to ask” (Nash

1982).

Evidence suggests that wilderness areas

are indeed used extensively as natural

laboratories. A recent study of only a sample

of officially designated wilderness areas within

the National Forest and National Park systems

found over 800 scientific publications focused

on these areas (Butler and Roberts 1986).

Scientific disciplines covered included ecology,

botany, zoology, and geology.

Wilderness can also serve the interests of

science as an environmental control or

baseline. In living out our,day-to-day lives we

must alter the environment around us. But

what long-term effects are we having on that

environment? Only through comparison to

environmental control areas--the natural

environments we preserve in wilderness--can

we be certain. Aldo Leopold was the first to

suggest this use of wilderness when he wrote

that wilderness is “a base-datum of normality,

a picture of how healthy land maintains itself

as an organism” (Leopold 1941).

Wilderness and Intellectual Freedom

Nash (1982) makes an interesting case

that wilderness is the ultimate source of

intellectual freedom or creativity. Piecing

together the writings of a number of natural

philosophers, Nash suggests that wilderness

provides the purest form of objectivity from

which original thoughts might be derived.

Unfettered by human influence, wilderness

inspires intellectual creativity and diversity.

Thoreau, for example, saw wilderness as the

“raw material of life” (Thoreau 1893b) while

Leopold viewed the history of human thought

as “successive excursions from a single

starting-point” which was the “raw wilderness”

(Leopold 1966). The contemporary words

“pathfmding, ” “trailblazing,” and “pioneering”

associate creative thought and scholarship with

a wilderness context (Nash 1982).

Intellectual freedom inspired through

wilderness has been found in several

disciplines of human endeavor, including

religion and the arts. The Puritans came to the

wilderness of the New World to find spiritual

freedom just as the Mormons went to the

deserts of Utah. Similarly Thomas Cole and

his followers found artistic inspiration in the

wilderness. More recently, wilderness has

even been suggested as a source of political

freedom. Abbey, for example, writes that

wilderness may someday be needed “not only

as a refuge from excessive industrialism but

also as a refuge from authoritarian government,

from political oppression” (Abbey 1968). Nash

also notes that George Orwell’s police state

society of 1984 abolished wilderness because it

“supported freedom of thought and action”

(Nash 1982).

Wilderness as Moral and Ethical Obligation

Most of the wilderness values discussed

thus far focus on human use of wilderness and

how we might benefit from such use. An

emerging notion suggests that wilderness and

its component parts may have intrinsic value

that we have a moral and ethical obligation to

support, This notion stems from several

sources.

Aldo Leopold was the first to suggest a

“land ethic.” As a scientist Leopold

recognized that man was part of a larger

ecological community. Just as we express

moral and ethical rights to other members of

our human communities, so should we extend

such rights to members of our ecological

community. “All ethics so far evolved,” wrote

Leopold, “rest upon a single premise: that the

individual is a member of a community of

interdependent parts. The land ethic simply

enlarges the boundaries of the community to

include soils, waters, plants, and animals, or

collectively: the land” (Leopold 1966).

Extension of moral and ethical

considerations to the natural world is also

supported by contemporary reinterpretation of

Judeo-Christian teachings. Given that we have

seriously depleted many of our natural

resources, White (1967) suggests that the

scripture contained in Genesis, as described

earlier in this paper, may suggest something

different than it has traditionally. Man’s

dominion over other life forms may be more

appropriately interpreted as expressing a

125
stewardship responsibility rather than

indiscriminate or unlimited use.

The “rights” of natural objects have even

been tested in the court system. In the

landmark case of the Mineral King Valley,

California, Supreme Court Justice Douglas

wrote that a wilderness had a right to legal

standing in the court (Stone 1974). His,

however, was a minority opinion.

Intrinsic rights of nature is a new and

evolving concept in the environmental

community. A Journal of Environmental

Ethics has been established and some of the

most thoughtful writing of contemporary

environmental philosophers is focused on this

subject (Elliot and Gare 1983; Regan 1983;

Rolston 1986; Rolston 1988; Stone 1987;

Wilson 1984). Some suggest that the

environmental movement is evolving from its

“shallow” anthropocentric traditions to a new

“deep” biocentric philosophy (Devall 1980;

Devall and Sessions 1985; Naess 1973). To

all those who believe in the intrinsic rights of

nature, preservation of wilderness is an

expression of man’s moral and ethical

obligation to the environment.

Economics of Wilderness

Though it may seem paradoxical at first,

wilderness is seen by some as having

substantial economic value. Indeed, this paper

has discussed many uses, values, or benefits

that wilderness might have to society and it

seems reasonable to assume that such values

might be measurable, at least theoretically, in

traditional economic terms. As it turns out,

some values are more readily measurable than

others. In any case, a substantial body of

economic literature has been developed that

focuses on various aspects of wilderness

valuation.

Some economic values of wilderness are

relatively straightforward. Wilderness

recreationists, for example, incur certain costs

for travel and equipment and these costs

constitute a minimum economic value of

wilderness for recreation (Clawson and Knetsch

1966). Actual costs are considered a minimum

measure of value because recreationists may be

willing to pay more than required and this

additional increment, or consumer surplus, is a

more accurate measure of actual value. Sorg

and Loomis (1984) reviewed a number of

willingness-to-pay studies of wilderness

recreationists and found that most values

ranged from $13 to $20 per activity day,

adjusted to 1982 dollars. Additional economic

value of wilderness recreation includes the

contribution of this activity to national, local,

and regional economies which provide related

goods and services to wilderness recreationists

(Alward 1986; Walsh and Loomis 1986).

Some wilderness values are highly

tangible. The high-quality water that flows off

protected watersheds is used for drinking and

irrigation. Compromises made in passing the

Wilderness Act allow some wilderness areas to

be used for commercial grazing and mineral

production. Certainly the biotic and genetic

diversity preserved in wilderness is increasingly

used in a wide variety of commercial and

medical applications. Little work has been

done, however, to quantify these values in

economic terms (bland 1979).

Other wilderness values are less tangible.

How do we value, for example, the vital

ecological “services” provided by nature such

as clean air and climatic stability? (Westman

1977) Due to uncertainty, how can we value

the future usefulness of biotic and genetic

diversity? (Bishop 1978) The therapeutic,

cultural, intellectual, esthetic, and spiritual

values of wilderness may all benefit society

through increased health and productivity,

sense of pride and self-worth, innovation, and

pure enjoyment. But these values are difficult

to quantify in dollar terms.

Finally, it has been suggested that

wilderness may have unique values involving

the preservation of natural environments.

Decisions to develop natural environments are

often irreversible. By preserving such areas as

wilderness we may be creating and capturing

option, existence, and bequest values (Krutilla

1967). By avoiding the irreversible decision of

development, wilderness remains available as

an option for those who do not now use

wilderness but may wish to do so in the future.

Alternatively, some people may have no

expectation of using wilderness directly, but

value the knowledge that such areas exist.

Finally, some people may be imbued with a

126
sense of social altmism and derive satisfaction

and value in knowing that future generations

have been endowed with or bequeathed

wilderness. Empirical tests suggest that option,

existence, and bequest values can be

substantial, even outweighing more tangible

wilderness benefits. A recent study of public

support for wilderness preservation in

Colorado, for example, found that the average

family would be willing to pay $14 per year to

preserve the State’s wilderness areas as

recreation reserves. These same families,

however, would be willing to pay even more--

an additional $19 per year--to be comforted in

knowing that such areas exist and are being

protected for future generations (Walsh and

others 1984).

WILDERNESS AS A LABORATORY FOR

SOCIAL RESEARCH

Earlier in this paper it was noted that the

Wilderness Act suggests that wilderness might

serve a number of values in contemporary

society. The survey of wilderness uses

outlined in this paper confirms and even

expands this expectation. Wilderness

advocates, philosophers, and researchers have

identified numerous and diverse ways in which

preservation of wilderness can serve the needs

of society now and in the future.

Some wilderness uses are more direct or

tangible than others. Wilderness recreation, for

example, would seem to require one’s direct

physical presence in wilderness. However,

maintenance of vital ecological services, such

as air and water purification, requires no direct

human use and, in fact, may be more

efficiently carried out under such conditions.

It seems clear that although only a minority of

the population uses wilderness in the direct and

narrow sense of the term, society can still find

great value in wilderness.

In preparing this summary of human use

of wilderness it became obvious that research

in this broad area of study is highly uneven.

Some wilderness uses, for example, are poorly

documented in the scientific sense, relying

instead on classical philosophical writings or

anecdotal evidence. There is a considerable

body of literature, for example, regarding

spiritual values of wilderness and, by

extension, man’s spiritual relationship to nature,

but there is a near total lack of empiricism. In

contrast, research on economic values of

wilderness has tended to be highly quantitative,

but lacks both breadth and depth.

It seems equally clear that research on

human use of wilderness can be of

considerable value in determining appropriate

wilderness policy and management. Recent

reviews of recreation research, for example,

present an impressive body of knowledge

which can be brought to bear on wilderness

management (Brown and others 1987; Cole

1987; Driver and others 1987; Hammitt and

Cole 1987; Manning 1986; Roggenbuck and

Lucas 1987; Stankey and Schreyer 1987). We

have developed profiles of wilderness visitors,

for example, including their psychological

motives for wilderness recreation and attitudes

toward management alternatives. We

understand that crowding in wilderness settings

is a normative concept and can be affected not

only by the number of interparty encounters

but by the type and behavior of groups and the

situation in which encounters occur. We know

that recreation use causes environmental

impacts and that these impacts tend to occur

quickly even under relatively light levels of

use. From research we have developed a

number of management concepts, such as

carrying capacity, Recreation Opportunity

Spectrum and Limits of Acceptable Change,

which assist in the effort to manage wilderness

for both its recreational and ecological values.

From this brief survey of wilderness use,

it is apparent that wilderness can be an

important laboratory for social research. But

its importance lies more in its potential than in

results now achieved. Not enough social

science research is occurring in wilderness.

Perhaps this is best illustrated in the

preliminary results of the Non-recreational

Wilderness Use Telephone Survey conducted in

preparation for this colloquium (Reed and Haas

1987). Only 14 percent of the wilderness

areas studied supported any social research

studies in 1987.

Finally, it should be noted that human

use of wilderness is clearly evolving.

Throughout this paper there is an historical

theme suggesting that wilderness values are

growing in type and intensity. Only through

127
social research will we be able to document

and understand man’s changing relationship to

nature.

REFERENCES

Abbey, E. 1968. Desert solitaire: A season in

the wilderness. New York: Ballantine

Books .

Alward, G. 1986. Local and regional economic

impacts of outdoor recreation development. A Literature Review: President’s

Commission on Americans Outdoors.

Washington, D.C.! U.S. Government

Printing Office, pp; V47-V58.

Barcus, C. and R. Bergenson. 1982. Survival

training and mental health: A review.

Therapeutic Recreation Journal 6( 1):3-7

Bishop, R. 1978. Endangered species and

uncertainty: The economics of a safe

minimum standard. American Journal of

Agricultural Economics 60(1):10-18.

Brown, P., B. Driver, D. Bums, and C.

McConnell. 1979. The outdoor

recreation opportunity spectrum in

wildland recreation planning:

Development and application, pp. 1-12 in

First Annual National Conference on

Recreation Planning and Development:

Proceedings of the Specialty Conference

(Vol. 2). Washington, D.C.: Society of

Civil Engineers.

Brown, P., B. Driver, and C. McConnell.

1978. The opportunity spectrum concept

in outdoor recreation supply inventories:

Background and application, pp. 73-84 in

Proceedings of the Integrated Renewable

Resource Inventories Workshop. USDA

Forest Service General Technical Report

RM-55.

Brown, P. and G. Haas. 1980. Wilderness

recreation experiences: The Rawah case.

Journal of Leisure Research 12(3):229-

241.

Brown, P., S. McCool, and M. Manfredo.

1987. Evolving concepts and tools for

recreation user management in

wilderness: A state-of-knowledge

review. Proceedings - National

Wilderness Research Conference: Issues,

State-of-Knowledge, Future Directions.

USDA Forest Service General Technical

Report INT-200, pp. 320-346.

Bryan, H. 1977. Leisure value systems and

recreational specialization: The case of

trout fishermen. Journal of Leisure

Research g(3): 174-187.

Burch, W. and W. Wenger. 1967. The social

characteristics of participants in three

styles of family camping. U.S.

Department of Agriculture, Forest

Service Research Paper PNW-48.

Burton, L. 1981. A critical analysis of the

research on outward bound and related

programs. Ph.D. Dissertation. Rutgers

University, Brunswick, N. J.

Butler, L. and R. Roberts. 1986. Use of

wilderness areas for research.

proceedings - National Wilderness

Research Conference: Current Research.

U.S. Department of Agriculture, Forest

Service General Technical Report INT212, pp. 398-405.

Clark, R and G. Stankey. 1979. The

recreation opportunity spectrum: A

framework for planning, management

and research. U.S. Department of

Agriculture, Forest Service Research

Paper PNW-98.

Clawson, M. and J. Knetsch. 1966.

Economics of outdoor recreation.

Baltimore, Maryland: The Johns Hopkins

Press.

Cole, D. 1987. Research on soil and

vegetation in wilderness: A state-ofknowledge review. Proceedings -

National Wilderness Research

Conference: Issues, State-of-Knowledge,

Future Directions. USDA Forest Service

7;;~;~ Technical Report INT-200, pp.

Curtis, J., W. Curtis and F. Lieberman. 1982.

The world of George Perkins Marsh.

Woodstock, Vt.: The Countryman Press.

128
Devall, W. 1980. The deep ecology

movement. Natural Resources Journal

20:299-322.

Devall, W. and G. Sessions. 1985. Deep

ecology: Living as if nature mattered.

Salt Lake City, Utah: Peregrine Smith

Books.

Driver, B. 1976. Quantification of outdoor

recreationists’ preferences. research:

Camping and environmental education.

Pennsylvania State University HPER

:;‘;‘“;8;‘“, 11, University Park, PA, pp.

Driver, B. and P. Brown. 1978. The

opportunity spectrum, concept in outdoor

recreation supply inventories: A rationale,

pp. 24-31 in Proceedings of the

Integrated Renewable Resource

Inventories Workshop. U.S. Department

of Agriculture, Forest Service General

Technical Report RM-55

Driver, B. and R. Cooksey. 1977. Preferred

psychological outcomes of recreational

fishing. Catch and release fishing as a

management tool: A national sport

fishing symposium. Humbolt State

University, Arcada, CA, pp. 27-49

Driver, B. and R. Knopf. 1976. Temporary

escape: One product of sport fisheries

management. Fisheries 1:21-29.

Driver, B., R. Nash and G. Haas. 1987.

Wilderness benefits: A state-of- ,

knowledge review in proceedings - ./

National Wilderness Research

Conference: Issues, state-of-knowledge,

future directions. U. S. Department of

Agriculture, Forest Service General

Technical Report INT-220, pp. 294-319.

Ehrlich, P. and A. Ehrlich. 1981. Extinction:

The causes and consequences of the

disappearance of species. New York:

Random House

Elliot, R. and A. Gare (eds.). 1983.

Environmental philosophy. State

College: Pennsylvania State University

Press.

Emerson, R.W. 1883. Nature in nature,

addresses and lectures, The Works of

Ralph Waldo Emerson, Standard Library

Edition (14 vols. Boston) I, 31,38; as

cited in Roderick Nash. 1982.

Wilderness and the American Mind (3rd

ed.). New, Haven: Yale University Press.

pq 85.

Ewert, A. 1983. Outdoor adventure and selfFlint,

concept: A research analysis.

University of Oregon, College of Human

Development and Performance, Eugene,

OK!.

E. 1939 “Robert Marshal& the man

and his aims”, Sunday Montana]

Misoulian, Nov. 19; as cited in Roderick

Nash. 1982. Wilderness and the

an&can mind (3rd ed.). New Haven:

Yale University Press. p. 203.

Gasset, J. 1972. Meditations on hunting.

New Yorlr: Charles Scribner’s Sons.

Genesis l:28

Gibson, P. 1979. Therapeutic aspects of

wilderness programs: A comprehensive

literature review. Therapeutic Recreation

Journal 13(2):21-33.

Graber, L. 1976. Wilderness as sacred space.

Washington, D.C.: The Association of

American Geographers.

Haas, G., B. Driver, and P. Brown. 1980.

Measuring wilderness recreation

experience preferences. In: Proceedings

of the Wilderness Psychology Group

Annual Conference, University of New

Hampshire, Durham, N.H., pp. 20-40.

Hammitt. W. and D. Cole. 1987. Wildland

recreation: Ecology and management.

New York: John Wiley and Sons.

Hendee, J,, G. Stankey and R. Lucas. 1977.

Wilderness management. U. S.

Department of A&culture, Forest

Service Miscellaneous Publication 1365.

129
Irland, L. 1979. Wilderness economics and

policy. Lexington, Massachusetts:

Lexington Books.

Joel 2:3

Knopf, R. and D. Lime. 1984. A recreation

managers guide to understanding river

use and users. U.S. Department of

Agriculture, Forest Service General

Technical Report WO-38.

Krutilla, J. 1967. Conservation reconsidered.

American Economic Review 57:777-786.

Leopold, A. 1941. Wilderness as a land

laboratory. Living wilderness 6:3; as

cited in Roderick Nash. 1982.

Wilderness and the American Mind (3rd

ed.). New Haven: Yale University Press.

p. 198.

Leopold, A. 1966. A sand county almanac

with essays on conservation from Round

River. New York: Ballantine Books, p.

239.

Levitt, L. 1982. How effective is wilderness

therapy? in Proceedings of the Third

Annual Conference of the Wilderness

Psychology Group, West Virginia

l&riversity, Morgantown, W.V., pp. 81-

Lowenthal, D. 1958. George Perkins Marsh:

Versatile Vermonter. New York

Manning, R. 1986. Studies in outdoor

recreation: Search and research for

satisfaction. Corvallis: Oregon State

University Press.

Marsh, G. 1864. Man and nature; or, physical

geography as modified by human action.

New York. p.228; as cited in Roderick

Nash. 1982. Wilderness and the

American Mind (3rd ed.). New Haven:’

Yale University Press. p. 105.

Marshall, R. 1930. The problem of the

~~~emess. Scientific Monthly, 30, p.

Muir, J. 1911. My first summer in the Sierra.

(Boston), p. 211; as cited by Roderick

Nash. 1982. Wilderness and the

American Mind (3rd ed.). New Haven:

Yale University Press. p. 125.

Muir, J. 1912. The Yosemite (New York),

pp. 261-262; as cited by Roderick Nash.

1982. Wilderness and the American

Mind (3rd ed.). New Haven: Yale

University Press. p. 168.

Munley, V. and V. Smith. 1976. Learningby-doing and experience: The case of

whitewater recreation. Land Economics

52(4):545-553.

Myers, N. 1979. The sinking ark: A new

look at the problem of disappearing

species. Oxford, England: Pergamon

Press.

Myers, N.. 1983. A wealth of wild species:

Storehouse for human welfare. Boulder,

Colorado: Westview Press.

Naess, A. 1973. The shallow and the deep,

long-range ecology movement. Inquiry

16:95-100

i

Nash, R.. 1982. Wilderness and the american \ mind (3rd ed.). New Haven: Yale

University Press.

Odum, E. 1959. Fundamentals of ecology

(2nd ed.) Philadelphia, Penn: W.B.

Saunders.

Opinion Research Corporation. 1977. The

public’s participation in outdoor activities

and attitudes toward national wilderness

areas. Princeton, N.J.: Report prepared

for the American Forest Institute.

Reed, P. and G. Haas. 1987. Preliminary

results to the non-recreational wilderness

use. Telephone Survey. Unpublished

manuscript dated December 14, 1987.

Regan, T. 1983. The case for animal rights.

Berkeley: University of California Press.

Roggenbuck, J. and R. Lucas. 1987.

Wilderness use and user characteristics:

A state-of-knowledge review.

Proceedings - National Wilderness

Research Conference: Issues, State-ofKnowledge, Future Directions. USDA

130
Forest Service General Technical Report

INT-200, pp. 204-245.

Rolston, H. III. 1986. Philosophy gone wild:

Essays in environmental ethics. Buffalo,

N.Y.: Prometheus Books.

Rolston, H. III. 1988. Environmental ethics:

Duties to and Values in the Natural

World. Philadelphia: Temple University

Press.

Rowell, G. 1977. In the throne room of the

mountain gods. San Francisco: Sierra

Club. \\

Sax, J. 1980. Mountains without handrails:

Reflections on the National Parks. Ann

Arbor: University of Michigan Press.

Schreyer, R. and J. Roggenbuck. 1978. The

influence of experience expectations on

crowding perceptions and socialpsychological carrying capacities.

Leisure Sciences 1(4):373-394

Sorg, C. and J. Loomis. 1984. Empirical

estimates of amenity forest values: A

comparative review. USDA Forest

Service General Technical Report RM107.

Stankey, G. and R. Lucas. 1986. Shifting

trends in backcountry and wilderness use.

Paper presented at the First National

Symposium on Social Science and

Resource Management, Oregon State

University, Corvallis, Ore.

Stankey, G. and R. Schreyer. 1987. Attitudes

toward wilderness and factors affecting

visitor behavior: A state-of-knowledge

review. Proceedings - National

Wilderness Research Conference: Issues,

State-of-Knowledge, Future Directions.

USDA Forest Service General Technical

Report INT-200, pp. 246-293.

Stegner, W.. 1969. The sound of mountain

water. Garden City, N.Y., p. 153; as

cited in Roderick Nash. 1982.

Wilderness and the American Mind (3rd

ed.). New Haven: Yale University Press.

p. 262.

Stone, C. 1974. Should trees have standing?

Toward legal rights for natural objects.

Los Altos, California: William Kaufman,

Inc.

Stone, C. 1987. Earth and other ethics. New

York: Harper and Row.

Thoreau, H.D. 1893a. A week on the

Concord and Merrimack Rivers in the

writings of Henry David Thoreau.

Riverside Edition. (11 ~01s. Boston) I,

504; as cited in Roderick Nash. 1982.

Wilderness and the American Mind (3rd

ed.). New Haven: Yale University Press.

p. 85.

Thoreau, H.D. 1893b. “Walking” in The

Writings of Henry David Thoreau,

Riverside Edition (11 vols., Boston) 9,

277; as cited in Roderick Nash. 1982.

Wilderness and the American Mind (3rd

ed.). New Haven: Yale University Press.

p. 88.

Turner, F.J.. 1920. The frontier in American

history. New York.

Wallwork, S. 1984. Montanans and selected

wilderness issues. Montana Business

Research Quarterly 22(4):15-18.

Walsh, R. and J. Loomis. 1986. Contribution

of recreation to national economic

development. A Literature Review: The

President’s Commission on Americans

Outdoors. Washington, D.C.: U.S.

Government Printing Office pp. V35-

V46.

Walsh, R., J. Loomis, and R. Gillman. 1984.

Valuing option, existence and bequest

demands for wilderness. Land Economics

60( 1): 14-29.

Walton, I. and C. Catlin. 1925. The compleat

angler. London: Navarre Society.

Westman, W. 1977. How much are nature’s

services worth? Science 197:960-964.

White, L. Jr. 1967. The historical roots of

our ecologic crisis. Science

155(3767):1203-1207.

131
Wilderness Act, 1964. Public Law 88-577.

Wilson, E. 1984. Biophilia. Cambridge,

Massachusetts: Harvard University Press.

Young, R. 1980. The relationship between

information levels and environmental

approval of the wilderness issue. Journal

of Environmental Education 11(3):25-30.

ENDNOTES

1. R e view s of th ese tudies can be found in Barcus and Bergenson 19 82; Burton 19 81; D rive r and

oth e rs 19 87; Ew e rt 19 83; Gibson 19 79 ; Levitt 19 82.

132
TH E W ILDERNESS ENVIRONMENT:

TRAINING W ILDERNESS MANAGERS

Richard H. Spray and Paul D. Weingart*

ABSTRACT

A case is m ade th at w ild e rness provides

th e m ost appropriate place to train land and

resource m anage rs for th e benefit of th e

W ild e rness Resource. Training in W ild e rness

for th e benefit of th e ind ividual participants

can be accom m odated but is of secondary

im portance. W ild e rness as a training ground

for m anage rs is furth e r justified as th e best

location for th e developm ent of sensitivity,

sk ills and basic ph ilosoph y th at w ill lead to

b ette r W ild e rness m anagem ent d ecisions. Th e

inte ragency training aspect w ill lead also to

m ore consistency in und e rstand ing and

m anagem ent of th e W ild e rness Resource,

across agency boundaries.

INTRODUCTION

From October 4-6, 1983, 300 managers

and other people interested in wilderness

management met in Moscow, Idaho, at the

First National Wilderness Management

Workshop. After meeting in general sessions

and small groups for three days, this group of

300 left the task of finishing an action plan to

a small task force. They had done their work

by arriving at five major action items that were

seen as essential to the survival of the

Wilderness System. Those five action items

fell into the categories of:

1. Educating the public.

2. Education and training of managers.

3. Capacity and concentrated use.

4. Interagency coordination and

consistency.

5. Wilderness management practices.

The second of these major action

categories is of importance to us here today.

There were several subtopics under the

category of “Education and training of

managers.” They are:

-- Institute and revitalize comprehensive

in-service wilderness management training,

focused on the value of the wilderness

resource, wilderness ethics, and low-impact

camping, utilizing expertise.

-- Conduct workshops and other programs,

nationally, regionally, and locally, as

cooperative ventures of agencies, educational

institutions, and interest groups in order to

share ideas, concerns, and techniques relating

to wilderness management.

-- Include wilderness management as a

course in university natural resource curricula.

Establish a basic course on wilderness as a

resource, including management of visitors.

Encourage accrediting groups (such as the

Society of American Foresters) to include it in

their curricula requirements.

-- Each agency should systematically

identify management personnel who would

benefit from additional training in wilderness

management.

This is our charge for educating and

training wilderness managers. It comes almost

20 years after the passage of the Wilderness

Act. It is surprising that coordinated and

systematic effort of this kind took this long.

Let’s look at some of the past history that led

to this action in 1983.

* Assistant D irector of R e creation and Director of R e creation, respectively. South w este rn R e gion of th e

Forest Se rvice, Albuquerque, NM .

133
HISTORY OF WILDERNESS AS A

“RESOURCE”

In the late 1950’s, the various versions of

proposed wilderness legislation were being

debated. At the same time the Forest Service

was nursing another bill through the legislative

process, the Multiple-Use Sustained-Yield Act

of 1960. This act is significant to our

discussion here because it is the first

legislative validation of wilderness as a

resource. In the latter part of Section 2 of the

act it states: “In the administration of the

National Forest due consideration shall be

given to the relative values of the various

resources in particular areas. The establishment

and maintenance of areas of wilderness are

consistent with the purposes and provisions of

the Act.” This validation of wilderness as a

resource is important to our consideration of

education and training of managers for the

management of wilderness because in our

world of management, it is “resources” which

require special skills.

Let’s look at this in a little more depth.

In 1964 the Wilderness Act came into being.

It is here that the definition of wilderness as a

resource is unmistakably strong and the charge

for management of wilderness as a resource is

given. In Section 2. (a) of the act it states: ‘I. .

It is hereby declared to be the policy of the

Congress to secure for the American people of

present and future generations the benefits of

an enduring RESOURCE of wilderness . . .‘I

(Emphasis added.) This is no mere

implication. It is an unambiguous statement

that wilderness, by definition of Congress, is a

resource.

Further along in the Wilderness Act in

Section 2. (b) it states, “. . . the area shall

continue to be MANAGED by the Department

and agency having jurisdiction . . .‘I

(Emphasis added.) In Section 4. (b) it says, ‘I.

each agency administering any area

designated as wilderness shall be responsible

for preserving the wilderness character of the

area and shall so administer such area for other

purposes for which it may have been

established as also to preserve its wilderness

character . . .‘I There are several other

references in the Wilderness Act which

substantiate that wilderness is a resource which

is intended to be managed by the agency with

jurisdiction.

Immediately after the passage of the

Wilderness Act, the Forest Service had 54

areas totalling 9.1 million acres to manage and

was the only Federal agency with wilderness.

Today the National Wilderness Preservation

System contains 465 wilderness areas totaling

89 million acres which are managed by four

Federal agencies. The need for trained

wilderness managers is evident.

In the Southwestern Region an Arizona

State University professor in the Department of

Leisure Studies, Dr. Rachel Robertson,

conducted a study of Southwestern National

Forest wilderness managers in 1984. Among

the six recommendations contained in Dr.

Robertson’s 1986 report is one which states:

“Wilderness schools, workshops, and training

conferences should continue to be a primary

means of technology transfer. “This followed

findings in the report that wilderness managers’

experience and training was, on the average,

quite low, and that most managers’ background

before coming to the wilderness responsibility

was either timber or range management, both

resources which require a good deal of

manipulation in their management. Turnover

rate in the wilderness management job was

also quite high.

HISTORY OF WILDERNESS

EDUCATION

Education “In” Wilderness

The purposeful use of a wilderness

environment to help educate is not new.

Indians have used a wilderness environment in

one way or another for this purpose for as long

as documentation is available. One of the best

described instances is the Indian vision quest.

This was a male passage to adulthood which

used a wilderness solo to gain knowledge

about nature on which the Indians depended

for their living. J. Donald Hughes describes

the process thus:

The vision quest took place for

several days alone in a special place

chosen carefully for its natural

setting, with fasting, thirsting, and

134
offering of the person’s own flesh cut

in small pieces from the body. At

some time during the retreat, the

animal who was to be the Indian’s

guardian spirit would appear and

speak, giving a significant message,

teaching a song, and designating a

special object or design to be used on

a shield, a tepee, or painted on the

body, that should always be kept as a

talisman of the ‘vision and the

guardian spirit itself, so that the

power could continue to be present

with him . . . , Black Elk said,

“Lamenting (the vision quest) helps

us to realize our oneness with all

things, to know that till things are our

relatives.”

In our culture Henry, David Thoreau was

one of the first to use a natural or wilderness

environment for educational purposes. His

approach was straightforward. Thoreau, even

in 1840, thought many people had lost touch

with their roots in nature, so he took young

people who were under his care for their

education into the woods and showed them

around. Other educators after Thoreau also

followed his lead. Thus summer camps have

been established, and such youth groups as the

Boy Scouts and CampFire Girls came into

existence leading to a well-established outdoor

education philosophy in American education

today.

This movement may have reached its peak

in 1962 when Outward Bound was founded in

Colorado. Up to this time outdoor education

nibbled around the edges of really using a full

blown wilderness environment to its fullest

degree for educational purposes. Outward

Bound changed that. This program uses

wilderness environments of the most pristine

kind to educate participants in mind, body, and

spirit much in the manner of the Indian vision

quest. Outward Bound is carefully and

deliberately programmed to obtain specific

desired results, but the wilderness environment

is a critical and indispensable part of the

educational process.

Outward Bound also represents perhaps

the culmination of what is called education

“in” the wilderness where the primary

objectives are benefits for the individual

participants.

Education “For” Wilderness

In 1965 a former Outward Bound

instructor, Paul Petzoldt, saw a deficiency in

the Outward Bound program and founded an

alternative program called the National Outdoor

Leadership School (NOLS). This new program

resembled Outward Bound, but a different

major objective was not only to educate “in”

the wilderness but to educate “for” the

wilderness. Thus education to perpetuate the

wilderness resource was begun and has since

been emulated by many other university and

private wilderness programs.

Coincidentally, at about the same time the

Wilderness Act passed and Paul Petzoldt

founded NOLS, the Pacific Northwest Region

of the Forest Service began educating

managers in the wilderness “for” the

wilderness. In 1964, 1965, and 1966.

wilderness workshops were conducted in the

Eagle Cap Wilderness, the Mt. Jefferson

Primitive Area, and the Glacier Peak

Wilderness, respectively. These workshops

were intended to bring managers up to speed

regarding implementation of the new

Wilderness Act. Each was attended by about

25 assorted Regional staff, Forest Supervisors,

District Rangers, Forest staff, District staff and

a few researchers. Camp locations were away

from travel routes in the wilderness and were

contracted with local outfitters and guides who

furnished the camp, meals, and transported

most of the personal gear. Participants were

restricted to foot transportation in order to

reduce the numbers of stock.

The program format of these workshops

was work in small groups in a specific, small

area within each wilderness (typically a small

lake basin). Groups were to identify and

propose solutions to management problems

using the new Wilderness Act and draft

regulations and manual guidelines, and then to

compare and discuss the consistencies and

inconsistencies between the results of the

several groups.

These workshops were true education

“for” the wilderness and were very popular and

135
well attended. Many graduates of these early

Forest Service wilderness workshops conducted

in the wilderness are still around today and

include Dr. John Hendee, then a young

researcher in Seattle and now Dean of the

School of Forestry, University of Idaho; and

Jim Overbay, then a District Ranger in

Southern Oregon and now Regional Forester of

the Northern Region. Regardless of the

success of the workshops, they were

discontinued because of a perception that they

were too expensive, and an underlying feeling

that the participants were having too much ffin.

To my knowledge, the end of the Pacific

Northwest Region wilderness management

workshops led to a long period of inactivity in

the use of wilderness environments to facilitate

the education of-wilderness managers. Many

wilderness workshops,, seminars, and

symposiums were held throughout the 1970’s,

but the record indicates that they were all

conducted in the style of the Holiday Inn

meeting room.

In 1983 the Southwestern Region

conducted a wilderness workshop within a

wilderness once again. Appropriately, it was

held in the first wilderness, the Gila

Wilderness in Southwestern New Mexico. The

intent of this workshop or school was to begin

a continuing education ‘effort for a small

number of wilderness managers each year.

The focus of the school was on integrated

management of the wilderness resource by

including topics and instructors dealing with

the several resources which together make up

the wilderness resource. It also aimed to give

the participants new wilderness skills and an

appreciation of some of the more subtle values

of wilderness. The school has been conducted

every year since 1983 and has rotated between

the Gila, Superstition, and Pecos Wildernesses

to change environments, impact, and job load.

In contrast to the Pacific Northwest

Region’s, workshops which relied on contracted

services with outfitter/guides, the Southwestern

Region’s schools have used in-house and

participant support (the Pecos school was an

exception). Horse and mule ,_packing

capabilities are greater in the Southwest and

local Ranger District pride is such that the cam

and feeding of the participants has been kept

in-house. Each of the three wilderness areas

have had slightly different modes of operation

due to differences between the Ranger

District/Forest personnel and the physical

location of the school.

The Gila school has evolved into a

central, packed-in camp setup operated in a

manner to demonstrate an ideal USDA Forest

Service, outfitter/guide, or permittee stocksupported camp. Participants travel by foot on

day trips from the central camp.

The Superstition school utilizes a camp on

the edge of the wilderness in order to minimize

impact. This camp is a special use, permitteedeveloped site and is organized and operated

by the local Ranger District personnel.

Participants travel by foot on several day trips

to areas of heavy recreation impact.

The Pecos school has been conducted only

once (but it is scheduled again for 1988), and

the camp and packing for that school was

contracted on the model of the Pacific

Northwest Region workshops. The camp was

located in the wilderness in a location away

from travel routes. The success of this mode

of operation is difficult to assess because this

one example occurred in a very large storm

that would have caused hardships regardless of

who was the host.

The program for all of the Southwestern

Region schools has been similar. Participants

have been restricted to about 20 with five or

more instructors. GeneraUy,if school’s total

enrollment threatens to exceed 25, instructors

ate rotated in and out so the total attending

will remain at that figure. The group has not

been broken into smaller groups, operating as

one large group for the most part. This has

been necessary because most of the instructors

are extremely skilled individuals whose

knowledge could benefit the entire group. This

difference also explains the language difference

in the titles: The small group works best in a

“workshop” format while the large group

works best when the format is a “school”.

The Southwestern Region plans to

continue their Wilderness School indefinitely in

the future. The next is scheduled for the Pecos

Wilderness in September 1988.

136
TYPES OF WORKSHOPS AND SCHOOLS

Here we will discuss advantages and

disadvantages of two basic types of wilderness

management workshops and schools and

comment on a third type that is different

enough to warrant special mention.

Classrooms or Conference Rooms

The most common format for almost all

agency-conducted workshops is the classroom

or conference room setup, usually in a

hotel/motel but sometimes in an office

conference room. The primary advantage of

such arrangements is that they are easy to set

up on short notice with little staff involvement.

The hotel/motel industry has made it very

convenient to call their sales staff and have all

the physical arrangements made. This is no

small matter for agency personnel who are

pressed for time and simply must turn such

details over to someone else.

This kind of arrangement is also

convenient for participants. Our agency

cultures are oriented toward air travel to major

urban areas, adopting the businessman’s

lifestyle of motel living and conference room

existence. We can virtually pack a bag in our

sleep with the necessary accouterments for a

week at any hotel, and a mole-like existence in

some windowless conference room. It may not

be particularly pleasant, but it doesn’t take

much preparation.

Whether the meeting is going to be a

series of lectures/papers, or a truer form of

workshop with small groups actually engaging

in problem solving, the conference setup makes

it relatively easy to construct an agenda and

format a program. This “advantage” is also a

disadvantage in certain respects. It is easy to

format because the classroom or workshop

nature only engages participants in a onedimensional way. From a wilderness education

point of view, classrooms can address only the

intellectual learning part of wilderness.

The Wilderness Environment

This leads to the most important

advantage of conducting wilderness

management education and training in the

wilderness. Perhaps the intellectual phase of

learning can not be programed in wilderness as

easily as in a classroom. Certainly distractions

are greater--a hawk in the sky or the work of a

squirrel--while an instructor is dealing with the

complexities of Limits of Acceptable Change.

On the other hand, these same complex

concepts take on real meaning in the

wilderness, and while the numbers and details

may not come across completely, they are

usually forgotten anyway. The concepts, basic

philosophy, and the workings of processes will

be remembered if learned in the wilderness; the

manager will understand wilderness as a

resource far better.

Another aspect of wilderness training that

is usually not addressed in classroom training,

is inadequately treated, is the physical aspect

of a wilderness manager’s growth. Wilderness

is “wilderness.” It is untamed wild land, and it

is the wilderness managers’ job to keep it that

way. This requires basic physical strength,

flexibility, and skills to be able to travel and

live comfortably in wilderness. As human

beings, our usual response to wilderness when

we encounter uncomfortable conditions is to

change the wilderness. Thus it is extremely

important that wilderness managers know their

strengths, correct their weaknesses, and have

the skills to be confident and comfortable in a

wilderness environment. These are things that

cannot be taught in a classroom very well, and

conversely can be taught extremely well in a

wilderness. A week in a wilderness, afoot and

sleeping on the ground, is not something many

agency managers are exposed to often, if at all.

This is a time individuals can assess their

bodies relative to the stresses of wilderness

living. The usual result is gaining confidence

in something that was already there but

untested, but it can also result in a

commitment to correcting problems which

come to light.

These are individual, internal matters for

participants of training conducted in a

wilderness environment. There are also some

physical, external aspects of training that are

programed right into the agenda. This is skills

training. Natural resource managers are not

automatically knowledgeable about the skills of

wilderness travel and living. Nowhere in the

curricula of forestry, range, or soil science

137
colleges are these subjects taught. Natural

inclination may have stimulated some natural

resource managers to learn some skills on their

own, but even then, they are seldom

knowledgeable in all needed aspects managers.

Travel skills include orienteering, stock

packing, horsemanship, general hiking, basic

mountaineering, and even some skills in winter

travel such as snowshoeing and ski

mountaineering., Living skills include the

basics of shelter, cooking, and most

importantly, low impact techniques both of

travel and living.

The third dimension of wilderness training

or education can hardly be addressed in a

conference room environment. This is the

emotional or sp@tual aspect of wilderness

education that a manager needs to know his

wilderness customers ‘and the resource

properly. There are many values of

wilderness. Many are specified in the

Wilderness Act, and others are addressed in the

intellectual phases of wilderness training

whether, in the classroom or in the wilderness.

There are still other values extremely important

to wilderness -- the reasons why American

society has decided to set aside 89 million

acres of real estate. Nash in 1976 identified

ten values of wilderness, many of which fit the

spiritual category. They are: (1) Wilderness is

a reservoir of normal ecological processes; (2)

Wilderness is a nourisher of American culture;

(3) Wilderness is a sustainer of American

character; (4) Wilderness is a historical

document; (5) Wilderness is an ego trip; (6)

Wilderness is a setting for fear and pain; (7)

Wilderness is a sustainer of human dignity and

diversity; (8) Wilderness is a church; (9)

Wilderness is a guardian of mental health; and

(10) Wilderness is an aid to developing

environmental responsibility . These concepts

are not easily taught in the classroom, but are

more easily taught in a wilderness

environment. A participant in a workshop

conducted in a wilderness first needs to be

made aware of these things. Then through

introspection during the session, the importance

of these values will become clear or lead to

further investigation. In brief, these values

make up the heart of what is described as a

“wilderness experience.” Participants of a

wilderness school realize fully the importance

of the factors contributing to that experience.

To sum up, we need to develop a basic

philosophy for managers as a starting point in

making management decisions concerning

wilderness. “Start the decision

viewing through Aldo P

recess from

Leopold s eyes.”

A final factor which should be discussed

is cost. Field wilderness schools are frequently

targeted for elimination because they are

considered too costly. A little thought about

this, however, reveals that a field-based school

has a huge advantage over a conference room

school. There is no dollar cost to using the

wilderness environment as there is to renting

rooms in a hotel. The cost is all in physical

effort and caring, which most attendees at a

field school are happy to contribute. In other

words, the cost of per diem and/or sustenance

in a wilderness is much less than in a

hotel/motel.

Several years ago we began to finance our

wilderness management school by charging

tuition. To some that may sound strange, but

we found ourselves in the position of not being

able to keep sufficient funds in our Regional

Staff account to pay for things. By charging a

tuition of $150 per student we are able to pay

for instructional materials plus the travel and

expenses of a couple of out-of-Region guest

instructors. No one has objected to this so far.

School in Wilderness, Living Outside

This is a type of wilderness training

environment that embodies a little of both of

the above formats. Participants live outside the

wilderness, either in a non-wilderness camp or

in more substantial housing, and day hike into

wilderness for the actual wilderness training.

We use this format for the wilderness school in

the Superstition Wilderness. This has some

advantages and some disadvantages. It is

easier to prepare, as in the conference room

format, but lacks many of the physical and

spiritual education advantages of the

field-based school. This third format costs

more than the field-based school only if

hotel/motel housing is used instead of a camp.

It may cost less if stock and packing are not

needed. Although it has advantages, a big loss

is the full impact of the physical and spiritual

education which may be the most critical

aspect of a wilderness manager’s training.

138
PROGRAMMING TH E FIELD-BASED

SCH OOL

A program or agenda must be created for

a wilderness workshop or school. This is not

an easy job, and our Southwestern Wilderness

School is still developing. The three elements

referred to earlier need to be included in the

program, but in different ways. We will

discuss the special characteristics of each

element.

Resource Training

This is the easiest of the three to deal

with and to present here. It is a more or less

traditional curriculum dealing with each of the

resources commonly found in wilderness and

with the wilderness resource itself. Help can

be found in agendas of other wilderness

workshops held around the country. Typically,

subjects dealing with range management, soil

and water management (engineering of trails),

air management, fiie management, wildlife

management, recreation management, and the

wilderness resource as a whole need to be

addressed by resource experts in those subjects,

relating each to the Wilderness Act and the

overall support of the wilderness resource. We

have utilized specialists from the Regional

Offtce, Forest staff, District staff, and

specialists from outside the Region for this job.

Since our school is conducted every year, the

lesson plans have the benefit of continuity and

growth. It has become a practice to pass the

instructor job around, usually to the host

Forest, along with the lesson plan. In this

way, many more people get the benefit of

instructing and contributing to the growth of

the lesson plan.

Skills Training

Much can be done in advance to prepare

for this element. Physical conditioning is an

individual’s responsibility, but an impending

foot trip to a wilderness is a powerful incentive

for action. Preparatory materials should

contain information on conditioning as well as

information on equipment needed and should

give references for additional study. We

include outfitter mail order catalogs with our

.39

preparatory materials to aid participants in

equipping themselves.

Skills training can be integrated into

virtually every aspect of a field-based school.

The trip into camp can include some basics on

orienteering, foot care, hydration,

acclimatization, day hiking, etc. Care should

be taken that all of the skills training

information is presented in a way that is

interesting and acceptable to participants of

varying skills. Enlist the more experienced

participants to help out. We have even found

ourselves with National Outdoor Leadership

School graduates in some of our schools. Use

every opportunity to encourage low-impact

traveling and camping. The base camp itself

must be a model of low impact. This should

not be optional, but a requirement. Use

contests and games wherever possible. We

have had a crosscut saw contest and a

mule-packing contest as part of our after-hours

events. Utilize participants as helpers or

leaders whenever possible for packing, camp

chores, and in leading groups for various

purposes. We haven’t done it yet, but it may

be a good idea to do a skills survey of

participants before the school begins.

At an appropriate time in the agenda,

formal sessions on backpacking, stock packing,

or whatever the particular wilderness lends

itself to can be intermixed with less formal

material to provide a break in intensity and to

take advantage of on-site opportunities.

Value Sensitivity

This is a topic often left to each

individual to cope with on his/her own. Many

believe mere exposure to wilderness will

accomplish value sensitivity. This is partially

true; probably most of us developed this kind

of sensitivity or spiritual attachment over a

period of years and many wilderness trips.

However, much can be done in the program to

facilitate this element of wilderness training.

While we have much to learn and no doubt

could learn faster with expert help, we have

deliberately chosen not to because we wish to

grow slowly. We feel participants can easily

feel “pushed” in this area and will push back,

so probably it is best to go slowly here.
As a way of preparation we furnish

reading references from some of the great

wilderness pioneers and philosophers such as

Aldo Leopold, Bob Marshall, and Dick

Costley. During the session we always try to

include a person from outside the USDA

Forest Service who is a current philosopher on

wilderness such as Mike Frome or a local

wilderness advocate. We had the opportunity

to have a South African wilderness manager

with us for an entire school. Everyone learned

a lot from this association. We must

remember wilderness is a world-wide resource

as evidenced by the broad participation in the

4th World Wilderness Congress held in

Colorado in September 1987. We try to make

sure the person we invite is a good speaker

and able to adjust his advocacy to our

circumstances. We also allow and encourage

time for introspection. This may be the most

important thing that we do to encourage a

spiritual feel for wilderness values.

PHYSICAL ARRANGEMENTS

To prepare for each school, a preliminary

trip is made several months in advance of the

scheduled school by the school director,

usually the person in the Regional Office with

wilderness management responsibility, the

Forest Staff, District Ranger, and District Staff.

Others may be involved depending on how the

Forest and Ranger District operate. During

this trip all aspects of the physical needs of the

school are studied including a trip over the

actual routes that will be traveled. Program

matters are also discussed since physical

arrangements and programming are closely

intertwined. Probably the most important

outcome of this meeting is agreement over

individual responsibilities.

Typically, the Ranger District is

responsible for all the physical arrangements,

and it is left to the District Ranger to decide if

he will take on the actual work of packing,

camp making, and meal preparation or contract

out all or part of that job. Due to the

cooperative nature of the preliminary meeting,

the Ranger usually can expect a lot of

cooperation from the Forest, and the Regional

Office, and helpful students, so s/he decides to

take on the job. During one school the Forest

R&L Staff decided to make the model base

camp his personal contribution to the school

and did an outstanding job.

Contracting should be approached with

caution. Outfitter/guides usually have the

experience and the equipment to do an

excellent job. However, sometimes the

motivation or the money isn’t there. You must

know your outfitters and understand the

consequences of the “low bid” before tying the

success of your school to the fortunes and

skills of someone else. I would recommend

starting with something that is a strength of

your outfitters but not critical to the school,

such as packing. If that proves successful, you

can include furnishing the camp another year.

The last thing you might consider contracting

are the meals. We had a slight hitch in our

Pecos Wilderness School due to the meals --

not enough quantity. It may have been poor

estimating, but we think it was due to the

extremely poor financial condition of the

outfitter coupled with a low bid. This is also

one of the jobs that students typically will

jump in and do, and do well.

We have a strict rule about travel in the

wilderness -- no horses. All travel, even by

dyed-in-the-wool horse-oriented wilderness

managers, is by foot. There are several

reasons. Lots of people would rather ride than

walk. We have to draw a line, so we exclude

horse transportation entirely (maybe an

exception for the host District Ranger!). We

keep travel distances short for travel into camp

and for the day hikes. Even though everyone

must walk, we don’t want to cause so much

pain they can’t absorb the messages being

given. This limits camp selection

opportunities, but so far has not caused

insurmountable problems.

Camp selection is important. The

campsite must be kept away from travel routes

both for privacy and so as not to disturb other

wilderness visitors. Camp is also selected to

access as many examples of resources and

conditions as possible. Because it is close to

the wilderness boundary and usually close to

heavily used areas, this has usually been no

problem. The campsite itself must be selected

to withstand the impact of the school for a

week and rapidly recover thereafter. In one

unfortunate instance many years ago, camp

selection was left to an outfitter, and when the

140
school arrived at the already setup campsite,

they found it in a wet meadow on a lakeshore

_- another reason for being careful when

contracting. In our dry Southwestern climate,

we need to be prepared to pack all camp

water. However, even in more watered parts

of the country it would be a good idea to

consider packing water to camp. This will

open up camp selection opportunities

tremendously and may .be the key to selecting

a camp that meets all the criteria.

PARTICIPANTS

Interagency

Our schools are interagency. When we

started we always reserved slots for Bureau of

Land Management and National Park Service

participants; we’ve always filled them. We

have also extended invitations and hosted State

Park employees. The school has been so

successful that we are now reserving 50% of

the slots for BLM employees. In the very near

future we hope to rotate the location of the

school to BLM wildernesses. So far the Park

Service has not participated to such an extent,

but I suspect that they will when they see how

the BLM/FS cooperation is working out. The

goal of interagency involvement in the schools

is consistency in management of wilderness

regardless of management agency.

Numbers of Participants

School slots are limited to 20 each

session. Our candidates are selected from

nominees sent in by District Rangers through

Forest Supervisors. Since the school is almost

always over-subscribed, decisions are made by

the Regional Office staff based on training

needs in current assignment. Instructors are

chosen in much the same way except that we

usually are aware of good instructors and will

promote their availability. Many times

students can also instruct in their specialty.

You need to keep in mind the multiple

resources in wilderness and not form a

recreation bias in choosing students or

instructors.

The annual nature of our wilderness

school prevents us from oversubscribing the

available. Supervisors who are unsuccessful

getting a candidate to a school one year are

assured that they have future opportunities.

The research indicates that wilderness manager

training will be needed continuously in the

future due to turnover in the ranks.

Instructors

Instructors should be knowledgeable about

their resource area as well as supportive of the

wilderness resource concept. We initially used

resource instructors from the Regional office in

order to convey to the representatives from

Forests and Ranger Districts that wilderness

management but an interdisciplinary approach

was critical to the best Wilderness management

goals. We now have instructors from all

managerial levels.

REFERENCES

Bloedel, Ed, “Managing Wilderness as a

Resource”, World Wilderness Congress,

1987.

Hendee, John C., George H. Stankey, and

Robert C. Lucas, “Wilderness

Management”, U.S.D.A. Misc. Pub., No.

1365, October 1978.

Miles, John C., “Wilderness As A Learning

Place”, Journal of Environmental

Education.

Nash, Roderick, “Wilderness: To Be Or Not

To Be?“, Yale University Bulletin # 90,

1976.

Robertson, Rachel D., “Wilderness

Management in the Southwest”, January,

1986.

Simer, Peter and John Sullivan, “National

Outdoor Leadership School’s Wilderness

Guide”, Simon & Schuster, Inc., 1983.

Simer, Peter and John Sullivan, “Wilderness

Management--A Five-Year Action

Program”, BLM, F&WS, FS, NPS, The

University of Idaho Wilderness Research

Center.

141
WILDERNESS AND SUBSISTENCE-USE

OPPORTUNITIES:

BENEFITS AND LIMITATIONS

Robert M. Muth and Ronald J. Glass*

ABSTRACT

Th e te rm “subsistence” is used to d enote

th e custom ary use of w ild , renew able natural

resources by rural sub- populations dependent

on fish , w ildlife, and plant species for ph ysical

survival, econom ic and social w ell-being, or

for th e m aintenance of trad itional culture.

Resource m anagem ent agencies and

m ainstream social- scientists com m only believe

th at subsistence hunting, fishing, and gath e ring

h ave all but d isappeared in m od e rn industrial

societies. Court suits ove r Native treaty righ ts

and an em e rging social science lite rature,

h ow eve r, suggest th e existence of resource use

activities th at are m otivated by nonrecreational considerations m ore appropriately

refe rred to as subsistence objectives. Both d e

facto and legally-designated w ild e rness, by’

m aintaining cond itions in w h ich resource

populations can be naturally sustaine d , h ave

th e potential to serve as a repository of m any

trad itional subsistence values, activities, and

lifestyles, as w ell as to preserve cultural

d ive rsity w ith in m od e rn societies. At th e sam e

tim e, h ow eve r, legally-classified w ild e rness

presents lim itations to subsistence use as w ell.

INTRODUCTION

For thousands of years, human beings

sustained themselves through such activities as

hunting, fishing, and other resource-gathering.

To this day, rural peoples in many areas of the

world continue to provide for themselves

through the subsistence harvest and use of

natural resources for food, fuel, shelter,

clothing, medicine, and barter. With the

advent of modem society, and its reliance on

the market economy, high levels of industrial

development, and other technological advances,

it is often mistakenly believed that subsistence

activities have all but disappeared in the United

States outside of Alaska. Most hunting and

fishing regulations in the United States, for

example, are designed to manage recreational

and commercial uses of fish and wildlife,

rather than to provide for users more

appropriately characterized by a subsistence

orientation. This view has been subscribed to

and incorporated into the operating assumptions

of resource management agencies; interest

groups such as conservation organizations,

sportsmen’s groups, and commercial

associations; and social scientists within the

mainstream of resource economics, cultural

anthropology, and rural sociology.

Studies of hunters, fishermen, and other

recreationists who participate in consumptive

uses of natural resources indicate that, in

addition to the opportunity to harvest fish and

game, they are often primarily motivated by

factors such as communing with nature,

observing wildlife, and interacting with close

friends. On the other hand, earning a

livelihood is usually the paramount objective

for engaging in commercial enterprises

involving fish and wildlife resources, although

lifestyle considerations are often important to

people involved in these activities--commercial

fishing or guiding, for example. Nevertheless,

it is often quite difficult to differentiate

between recreational, commercial, and

subsistence users on an operational basis

because often the same equipment is used to

harvest the same species in the same locations.

Nonetheless, it is our view that significant

human sub-populations exist in many rural

areas of industrialized North America whose

resource utilization strategies can most

accurately be characterized as subsistence,

although their harvesting activities are managed

* Regional Social Scientist, Alask a R egion, USD A. Forest Service, Juneau, AK; and Research Econom ist,

North e ast Forest Expe rim ent Station, U.S.DA. Forest Se rvice, Burlington, VT.

142
under policy umbrellas governing recreational

use, commercial use, or Native rights (Muth

and others 1987). For many of these people,

the primary benefits of fishing, hunting, and

gathering are supplementing income through

fur trading, obtaining food and fuel, and the

manufacture and sale of handicrafts. In short,

although some overlap exists, subsistence

practitioners ascribe a different array of social

meanings to renewable natural resources than

do recreational and commercial users.

Furthermore, one of the important, but poorly

understood, functions of both de facto as well

as legally-designated wilderness is to serve as a

geographic base capable of providing

naturally-occurring sustained-yield levels of

resource populations for use by

subsistence-based households.

It should be emphasized that there are

limited data on subsistence activities for the

United States outside of Alaska. At the same

time, there are significant socioeconomic

similarities between rural residents of Alaska

and sub-populations in rural areas of the rest of

the country. In both cases, community

economies represent mixed systems with

market, public, and subsistence sectors that

vary in importance by degree only. In fact,

studies have indicated that some Alaskan

communities have higher median household

incomes than the U.S. average (e.g., Glass,

1987). Through exploring the relationship

between wilderness and subsistence use, it is

the intent of this paper to stimulate discussion

and provide a basis for future research to

elucidate the complexities of renewable

resource use and management in the United

States.

What do we mean by “subsistence”?

There are a variety of different legal, cultural,

popular, and social scientific definitions and

interpretations of subsistence. While none of

these offers a precise or functional definition of

the term (Albrecht, 1972; Schneider, 1982), it

is commonly used in the absence of an

alternative terminology that captures the

meanings and behaviors characterizing

particular resource user groups with specific

resource dependencies. In the social science

literature, subsistence generally refers to I’. . .

the absolute minimum standard of physical and

mental survival and productive efficiency”

(Sharif, 1986). Subsistence lifestyles are

generally associated with small, self-sufficient,

dispersed societies that have limited impacts on

their environments. Traditional subsistence

activities are usually self-contained within a

kinship, tribal, or community group, or within

a geographic region (Ellen, 1982).

Subsistence desi bes a loosely defined

pattern of social and economic activities that

may include some forms of hunting, fishing,

gathering, herding, cultivating, trading,

tool-making, crafting, fuel production, trapping,

and food processing and storage. Although

most subsistence-based households existing

within industrial societies today are

undoubtedly involved in the market economy

and benefit from publicly financed activities,

subsistence activities most often provide for

near-term consumption and are governed by

personal use, in-kind barter, or minimal cash

transactions, rather than a profit orientation or

large-scale commercial exchanges.

We do not mean to suggest that

subsistence-based households are necessarily

primitive, socially isolated enclaves.

Embedded as they are within modem society,

they have made many economic, social, and

technological adaptations. For example,

chainsaws, gillnets, steel traps, fiberglass boats,

snowmachines, highpowered rifles, and

monofilament fishing line have replaced bows

and arrows, babiche snares, hand-held

harpoons, and dugout canoes as principal

harvest mechanisms. Under the forces of

modernization, subsistence has evolved from

the sole source of support for traditional

communities to an income-supplementing

activity in a mixed economic system. In

addition to customary subsistence resource use,

for example, wage labor, government transfer

payments as well as other programs, and

investment income are playing an increasing

role in traditional subsistence communi5es.

But modem adaptations notwithstanding,

relative to other social strata, subsistence-based

households consume most of what they

produce, sell little in the cash economy, rely

primarily on family labor, employ

labor-intensive practices, maintain a limited

economic standard of living, and often must

consider individual, family, and group survival

in decision-making (Glass 1987; Muth and

others 1987).

143
Finally, it is clear that subsistence, at

least as defined herein, is not culturally

dependent; rather, it transcends cultural and

ethnic groups. Many cultures within the

United States depend on natural resources for

ceremonial, religious, or other social functions.

Tlingit Indians in the community of Angoon,

Alaska, for example, cortinue to distribute deer

meat and salmon at community potlatches. As

such, subsistence resources continue to play

vital roles in many cultures existing within the

d<~minant industrial society. However, just as

the distribution of deer meat at a Native

potlatch may be one example of subsistence

distribution, so too is the deer harvest of a

marginally employed logger in rural Idaho or

the fifth-generation farmer in Appalachia. The

families of both of those ‘workers may depend

on deer meat as the major source of protein

due to income limitations and the prohibitive

cost of substitutes available through the market

economy. Here, too, subsistence distribution

may occur beyond the immediate family.

ADMINISTRATIVE GUIDELINES

The political context of resource

allocation in Alaska has resulted in legal

definitions of subsistence considerably different

than the traditional image of small, self-reliant

villages providing for their own survival.

During passage of both State and Federal law,

political realities dictated that legislatively

designated subsistence rights be conveyed to

all rural Alaskans, both Native and non-Native

alike, irrespective of income. Thus,

subsistence uses on public lands in Alaska are

viewed by Congress and the State of Alaska as

customary and traditional activities

differentiated only by rural versus non-rural

residency, rather than by ethnicity , economic

status, or length of residence. This has

resulted in rather anomalous situations in

which extremely wealthy rural residents (both

Native and non-Native) Ejossess subsistence

rights, while at the same time, urban

residents--regardless of their material or

cultural needs--have been denied subsistence

rights.

Nevertheless, Alaska has been in the

policy forefront with respect to recognition and

protection of subsistence-use opportunities

through State and Federal statutes.

Consequently, the administrative guidelines

designed to implement statutory requirements

regarding subsistence are relevant only to

Alaska. Although application of these

guidelines is not germane to the public lands in

States other than Alaska, a brief summary of

legislative requirements and agency

implementing regulations will illustrate

Congressional intent regarding subsistence as a

non-recreational use of public lands including

wilderness in Alaska.

The Alaska National Interest Lands

Conservation Act (ANILCA) of 1980 is the

principal law governing subsistence

management and use on public Federal lands,

including Congressionally-designated

wilderness, in Alaska. In Title VIII of

ANILCA, subsistence uses are defined,

subsistence rights are conveyed, and

subsistence management direction is provided.

As used in ANILCA, the term subsistence

means the customary and

traditional uses by rural Alaska

residents of wild, renewable

resources for direct personal or

family consumption as food,

shelter, fuel, clothing, tools, or

transportation; for the making and

selling of handicraft articles out of

non-edible byproducts of fish and

wildlife resources taken for

personal or family consumption;

for barter, or sharing for personal

or family consumption; and for

customary trade (U.S. Congress

1980).

In addition to defining subsistence uses,

ANILCA recognizes the importance of

providing continuing opportunities for

subsistence on public lands in Alaska. To

provide for the continuation of subsistence

opportunities, Congress mandated that ‘I. . . the

utilization of the public lands in Alaska is to

cause the least adverse impact possible on rural

residents who depend upon subsistence uses of

the resources of such lands . . . .‘I (U.S.

Congress 1980) Finally, in a visionary attempt

to ensure that subsistence opportunities are

maintained in perpetuity, Congress mandated

that I’. . . the taking on public lands of fish and

wildlife for non-wasteful subsistence uses shall

be accorded priority over the taking on such

144
lands of fish and wildlife for other purposes.”

(U.S. Congress 1980) This section of

ANILCA has been interpreted to mean that

subsistence users have priority access to fish

and wildlife resources over recreational and

commercial users during those times when it is

necessary to restrict hunting and fishing in

order to protect the continued viability of

resource populations.

In an attempt to’ ensure consistent

implementation of the subsistence provisions of

ANILCA, the Alaska Land Use Council

(composed of representatives from selected

Native regional corporations and various State

and Federal resource management agencies)

developed guidelines for incorporating

subsistence considerations into Federal land-use

decision-making processes in Alaska. These

guidelines have been integrated into the

land-use planning processes and on-going land

management programs of Federal agencies in

Alaska, such as the National Park Service, the

Fish and Wildlife Service, the Bureau of Land

Management, and the Forest Service.

Although the various Federal agencies having

authority for wilderness management in Alaska

have developed regulations implementing the

provisions of ANILCA into their management

programs, we will restrict our focus here to

administrative guidelines developed by the

Forest Service.

In addition to the provisions of ANILCA,

the Code of Federal Regulations, and

guidelines of the Alaska Land Use Council,

key Forest Service directives concerning

subsistence uses are contained in internal

manuals and handbooks governing agency

planning processes and management activities.

Consistent with ANILCA, subsistence policies

apply to all lands managed by the Forest

Service in Alaska, including wilderness. In the

management of wilderness lands designated by

Congress, it is Forest Service policy that the

provisions of the Wilderness Act of 1964 apply

in providing direction for wilderness

management unless specific exceptions are

provided by ANILCA.

In 1980, ANILCA created approximately

5,453,366 (net) acres of wilderness on Forest

Service-managed lands in Southeast Alaska.

Procedural guidance for incorporating

subsistence considerations into land use

planning and decision-making is contained in

the Forest Service (Alaska Region) handbook

2609.25 (Subsistence Management and Use).

Other guidance for managing subsistence uses

is provided in Alaska Region Supplement 34 to

Forest Service Manual (FSM), chapter 2320,

Wilderness, Primitive Areas, and Wilderness

Study Areas. FSM 2320 defines subsistence

uses, reiterates the policy of causing the least

adverse impact possible upon rural residents

who depend upon subsistence uses, and

reaffirms the priority of subsistence uses over

other uses of fish and wildlife when it is

necessary to restrict harvest in order to assure

viability of fish or wildlife populations.

In addition, FSM 2320 (p. 3) draws on

other provisions of ANILCA in order to ensure

that continued access to subsistence resources

is available in wilderness:

e. Rural residents engaged in subsistence

uses shall have reasonable access to

subsistence resources. This is not tied to

historic use areas but to availability of

resources. Hence, the areas used for

subsistence may shift as the fish and wildlife

populations or abundance shifts.

f. Snowmobiles, motorboats and other

means of surface transportation shall be

permitted for subsistence purposes, subject to

reasonable regulation to protect other resource

values. This does not foreclose the use of

new, as yet unidentified, means of surface

transportation, so long as such means ate

subject to reasonable regulation necessary to

prevent waste or damage to fish, wildlife, or

terrain (USDA Forest Service 1983).

In summary, subsistence uses have been

formally recognized by law in the State of

Alaska. Key Federal statutory and regulatory

guidance for managing subsistence uses on

both wilderness and non-wilderness public

lands is contained in the Alaska National

Interest Lands Conservation Act, guidelines

developed by the Alaska Land Use Council,

and agency procedures implementing ANILCA.

Within the Forest Service, principal policies for

managing subsistence in wilderness am

contained in FSM 2320.

145
INVENTORY OF USE

Outside of Alaska, subsistence has

received limited attention. Nonetheless, there is

an increasing body of research suggesting that

rural sub-populations, both Native and

non-Native, continue to rely on renewable

natural rzsources for subsistence in

technologically-developed regions of North

America (Bush 1982; Lichens 1977; Rattner ts&?. c-“lctor md Burrell Research and

c’oil:;~:li:~~g and others 1981). A study of

Nortii Fm ida farm families by Gladwin and

Butler (1982), for example, found that ‘I. . .

76% of the farmers surveyed raise their own

meat and/or hunt and/or fish, providing the

average farm family with 55% of the meat and

fish consumed.” Other studies indicate that

obtaining food is a key motivational force in

hunting and fishing by many rural residents.

In preparing for the National Wilderness

Colloquium held in 1988, the Colloquium

Executor, Patrick Reed, conducted an informal

telephone survey of wilderness managers in the

United States regarding a variety of wilderness

management issues. Of those managers

surveyed, it was perceived that 13 percent of

all wilderness areas are utilized by Native

Americans for subsistence. Discussion

indicated that subsistence included such things

as the customary use of herbs and plants for

medicinal and religious purposes in

Yellowstone National Park, access to

traditional hunting grounds by the Ute Indians

in the High Uintas Wilderness, and gathering

of cactus fruits in the Organ Pipe Cactus

National Monument (Reed 1987). Systematic

inventory will be necessary to verify and

extend these findings.

While the records of State resource

management agencies indicate that a large

variety of fish, wildlife, and plant species are

harvested, little data are available on personal

consumption, sharing (distribution and

exchange), barter, or involvement in the market

economy. We know, for example, that people

hunt big game, small game, waterfowl, upland

game birds, reptiles, and marine mammals.

They harvest all manner of shellfish and

fiifish. They gather ginseng, wild vegetables,

firewood, seaweed, mushrooms, berries,

rosehips, and nuts. They collect bark, conks,

burls, driftwood, ceremonial and medicinal

herbs, seed cones, mistletoe, insects, honey,

snails, and tree boughs. They trap lynx,

beaver, fox, muskrats, minx, and other

furbearers. What isn’t known however, is the

extent to which these activities are motivated

by economic, social, or cultural objectives

more appropriately characterized as subsistence,

rather than by commercial or recreational

values. These distinctions remain unclear even

in Alaska, where considerable effort has been

undertaken to understand them. Additionally,

we understand very little about the role of

wilderness in providing for these uses.

Subsistence Resource Use in Southeast

Alaska

In Alaska, contrary to other rural areas of

the United States, a substantial body of

research has emerged that illustrates the

importance of renewable natural resources to

rural communities. Since Alaska contains

relatively few miles of road in an area

one-fifth the size of the lower 48 States, a

significant proportion of subsistence use occurs

either in & m wilderness or in

Congressionally-designated Wilderness Areas.

Data from recent studies throughout

Alaska confirm the continuing participation in

fishing, hunting, and gathering activities by

rural households. Data from recent research

in Southeast Alaska illustrate these patterns. In

1979, State and Federal agencies cooperated in

conducting a research study referred to as the

Alaska Public Survey. This survey,

administered to a random sample of over 1,200

people in nearly all the communities in

Southeast Alaska, asked questions about

food-producing activities. Results indicate that

local fish and wildlife resources were used

extensively by Southeast Alaskan residents. As

reported by Alves (1980), approximately 80

percent of the adult population in Southeast

Alaska participated in hunting, fishing, and

gathering activities. By means of these

activities, people directly procured for

themselves a sizable portion of their own food

budgets: “Our data indicate that about 80

percent of the households surveyed provided

some of their own food; on the average,

households in the region directly supplied 30

to 40 percent of the meat, fish, and fowl

consumed.” (Alves 1980)

146
In addition to resource harvest, resource

sharing contributed to household food budgets

as well. Again, according to Alves (1980),

through a combination of harvest and sharing, 11 benefits of local food resources touch 90

p&&t of all households . . .‘I in the region.

More recently, community case studies

cooperatively funded by the Alaska Department

of Fish and Game and the Forest Service in

1984 and 1985 provide detailed,

resource-specific information on subsistence

uses (Muth forthcoming). A random sample of

148 households was surveyed in four remote

Southeast Alaskan villages--Tenakee Springs,

Angoon, Yakutat, and Klawock--regarding their

household harvest and sharing activities. The

total population of the four communities during

the study period was 1,771.

The study validated the continuing

reliance of rural households on a wide variety

of renewable natural resources including

seaweed, berries, herring eggs, and marine

mammals. Use data provided by respondents

indicate that, in terms of total weight

harvested, deer and salmon--the two principal

subsistence species in Southeast

Alaska--continue to make substantial

contributions to household food budgets in the

study communities (table 1).

Table 1. -- Estimated annual usable weight

(lbs.) per household of selected resources

harvested in four Southeast Alaskan

communities (148 sample households),

1984-1985

Species

Mean Weight

(Lbs.) Per

Household

All Edible

Resources

All Salmon

(5 Species Total)

Sitka Blacktailed Deer

889.4

295.4

118.4

Data on participation in harvest activities

indicate that three fourths (75.4 percent) of the

Native households in the study communities

harvested salmon for personal use, while

two-thirds (67.8 percent) of non-Native

households harvested at least one of the five

species of salmon present in Southeast Alaska.

Resource-sharing patterns also appear to have

retained their vitality. Slightly over one-third

(36.1 percent) of the Native households gave

salmon to households other than their own,

while 43 percent of the non-Native households

gave salmon to other households. In terms of

receiving, 44.3 percent of Native households

received salmon resources from other

households, while 55.8 percent of non-Native

households received salmon from harvesters

outside their own households.

In terms of total weight harvested, Sitka

black-tailed deer is the principal land mammal

taken by hunters in Southeast Alaska. Native

households had a mean harvest of about two

deer, while non-Native households averaged

slightly over one deer per household. The

Alaska Department of Fish and Game has

established a conversion formula that ascribes

80 pounds of usable meat, on the average, to

each Sitka black-tailed deer. Using this

conversion ratio, Native households harvested a

mean of 162.4 pounds of deer meat, while

non-Natives averaged 87.2 pounds of deer meat

harvested per household.

Although the residents of the four study

communities harvested fewer pounds of usable

deer meat than pounds of salmon, they shared

it with friends, family, co-workers, and others

at rates approaching those for salmon. On the

average, nearly one-third of all households

(29.5 percent of Native and 32.2 percent of

non-Native households) gave deer meat to

other households. At the same time, 36.1

percent of Native and 35.6 percent of

non-Native households received deer meat from

households other than their own.

While not comprehensive, these data

illustrate the importance of renewable natural

resources to remote villages in Southeast

Alaska. A considerable amount of harvesting

activity is concentrated on the limited road

systems near those communities that have

them. Examination of subsistence maps

detailing resource-harvest locations, however,

indicates that subsistence users cover an

extensive range that includes heavy use of

undeveloped wilderness lands in Southeast

147
Alaska. This may be partly due to the fact

that old growth forests in Southeast Alaska

appear to provide more ideal habitat for key

wildlife species than in other parts of the

nation where earlier stages of vegetative

succession usually associated with nonwilderness tend to support larger populations of

desired wildlife species.

Benefits to Society

Data cited above, as well as information

from other subsistence studies conducted in

Southeast Alaska (e.g., Gmelch and Gmelch

1985; Mills 1982; Mills aiPd others 1984;

Newton and Moss 1984), confimn the

continuing existence of resource harvest and

sharing patterns in the contemporary lifestyles

of Southeast Alaskan residents. Further, it is

evident that subsistence utilization has retained

its value for a number of psychological, social,

cultural, and economic reasons.

Psychological.--Those resource managers

and social scientists who acknowledge the

existence of subsistence activities often

mistakenly assume that subsistence resources

are important only as a supplement to cash

incomes. For many rural people, however, the

opposite may be true: cash serves as a means

by which to supplement subsistence

lifestyles--lifestyles that may be preferential to

full-scale participation in the market economy.

From a psychological perspective, the

opportunity to procure wild, renewable

resources contributes to a sense of self-reliance,

independence, and the ability to provide for

one’s self--values that social surveys indicate as

reasons why many non-Native people migrate

to or remain in Alaska (Alves 1980).

Social.--From a social perspective,

subsistence harvest and sharing contribute to

the cohesion of kinship groups, as well as to

the solidarity of occupational and friendship

networks. This cohesiveness is not unlike the

bonding which takes place as reported by

recreational sporthunters in numerous studies

conducted in the lower 48 states. Additionally,

subsistence distribution and exchange networks

may contribute to the stability of

resource-dependent communities as resource

sharing extends to multiple households, some

of which may contain the elderly, the

widowed, or the infirm (Charnley 1983; Fall

and others 1983; Muth forthcoming).

Cultural.--Harmon ( 1987) h&

convincingly argued that human cultural

diversity is a desirable social objective, and

that there is a definite relation between such

diversity and protected lands in undeveloped

status. He further contends that such lands can

be sensitively managed to promote continued

subsistence opportunities by local resident

populations dependent on them for physical

survival and socioeconomic wellbeing. Use of

wild, renewable resources contributes to the

maintenance of traditional cultural and

sub-cultural systems within modem industrial

society as well as in developing countries.

Natural resources are used in traditional rituals

and ceremonies, as well as to reinforce a

variety of institutional aspects of social life

including norms of obligation, wealth and

status hierarchies, and respect. Continued

access to subsistence resources by populations

culturally dependent on them will help ensure

the continued vitality of those cultural systems.

Economic.--Cash income and social

welfare programs are playing increasingly

important roles in traditional communities. By

supplying a variety of household needs,

however, subsistence harvest supplements

income and adds to the standard of living

regardless of the level of monetary income and

the benefits of public programs, In addition,

homemade handicrafts made from indigenous

forest resources (e.g., spruce roots crafted into

baskets, beaver-fur hats, etc.) are produced for

barter, or for sale in the commercial market.

In addition to the obvious importance of

sustenance and income derived from personal

or household subsistence use, anthropological

researchers (Drucker 1965; Oberg 1973) have

established that an important social function of

subsistence sharing among the aboriginal

people of Southeast Alaska during the period

prior to Euroamerican contact was as a form of

“social insurance.” Sharing of fish and game

based on norms of mutual obligation and

reciprocity served to provide security during

periods of resource scarcity and uncertainty.

As the subsistence-based system gradually gave

way to economies containing a subsistence

sector-private sector-public sector mix,

however, the contributions of subsistence

148
resources might be especially important during

downturns in the contemporary market

economy (Glass and Muth 1986; Wolfe 1984).

Muth (forthcoming) has suggested, for

example, that one reason for the continued

reliance on subsistence resources in Southeast

Alaska may be due to their functional

importance as social insurance in the seasonal

and cyclical resource-extraction-based economy

of Southeast Alaska.

In modernizing communities, subsistence

has become integrated into mixed economic

systems in which cash income provides the

basis to procure more efficient subsistence

factors of production, and in which public

programs reduce the threat of disaster

previously attributable to low resource harvest.

As a result, subsistence has undergone a

transition from an activity necessary for

physical survival to one in which

psychological, social, and cultural functions

may be paramount. As the following section

on Value of Use suggests, however, the

potential economic benefits provided by

subsistence harvest are still often considerable.

In summary, subsistence use of forest

lands in Southeast Alaska has shown

considerable persistence and adaptability.

Subsistence harvest, distribution and exchange,

and consumption serve a variety of

psychological, social, cultural, and economic

functions that include social group cohesion,

cultural diversity, and economic wellbeing.

Resource management, sensitive to subsistence

as an institutional element of social life, is

needed to help ensure that subsistence uses of

renewable natural resources continue to serve

these vital social functions.

VALUE OF USE

While it might be convenient to have all

values expressed in terms of a common

denominator such as money, the nature of

valuation precludes conducting such an

analysis. In fact, monetary values represent a

mere subset within the framework of total

valuation (Glass and Muth 1987a).

Unfortunately, little information is available on

the value (monetary or nonmonetary) of

subsistence uses of natural resources. In a

critical review of subsistence valuation studies,

Usher (1976) concluded that “attempts to

evaluate country produce in nonagricultural

subsistence economies have been few, and

although the literature in some respects has

been consistent, most is without theoretical

foundation.” This is lamentable, since failure

to assess the full economic value of

subsistence resources has often led to serious

underestimation of the contribution of

traditional and customary resource gathering

activities to the total regional economy.

Perhaps the most prevalent valuation

approach used involves assigning monetary

measures based on competitive market prices

of substitutes in order to impute economic

values to resources used for subsistence

purposes. Although this technique has a

variety of shortcomings (Glass and Muth

1987a; Glass and Muth 198713; Usher 1976). it

is often used to estimate the monetary value of

natural resources harvested for personal use. It

should be emphasized that such estimates are

aimed at measuring the value of tangible

outputs from specific subsistence activities in

terms of additions to household income and do

not attempt to measure the value of

participation itself, which cannot be effectively

expressed in monetary terms. Rather than

undertake a comprehensive review of

subsistence valuation efforts here, we will

present two illustrative examples--one from a

more traditional subsistence society, the

Canadian Arctic, and one located more firmly

within modern industrial society, New York

State.

Methodological shortcomings

notwithstanding, several attempts have been

made to assess the monetary value of

domestically-produced food, fuel, and

handicraft resources. In an insightful study

examining the valuation of subsistence food in

the Canadian North, Usher (1976) found that

on a protein-equivalent basis, the value of wild

P

ame such as caribou and moose approached

4 to $4.50 per pound, birds were valued at

$2.50, and fish at $2. He states that:

Given the monetary values

suggested, it becomes easier to see

why native people are so

concerned about the continued

availability of country food. A

family primarily dependent on the

149
land which obtained, for example,

a dozen caribou, 60 geese and 500

t:

ounds of fish in a year, would

ave obtained the equivalent of

$6,200 worth of meat. The total

estimated volume of the meat

harvest of [five communities in]

the Western Arctic . . . would, on

a substitution basis, probably be

worth over a million dollars

annually (Usher 1976).

In addition to the monetary value of

subsistence foods, Usher (1976) also noted a

number of non-quantifiable intangible values.

“Country food has nutritional, social, and

cultural values which cannot be replaced by

any substitute andcannot be measured by

market criteria or evaluated in cash. In short,

food is an integral part of a way of life.”

Thus, in a total valuation framework, cash

value may be only a small part of the overall

social value of subsistence resources. In a

study perhaps more applicable to the purposes

of this paper, Rattner (1984) examined the

economic value of household production

activities in the community of Crown Point,

New York. Crown Point is situated adjacent

to Adirondack Park in upstate New York. The

Adirondack Park is comprised of lands 60

percent privately-owned and 40 percent

publicly-owned; State-owned lands being

preserved in the forever-wild status by

constitutional law. It is managed by the

Adirondack Park Agency and the New York

State Department of Environmental

Conservation, whose management policies are

directed toward economic development outside

of forest preserve lands in the context of

protecting the Park’s environment.

In addition to raising gardens and

domestic animals, resource-producing activities

of Crown Point residents on private lands

included the use of forest products such as

firewood, fence posts, and maple syrup. Use

of resources that may have been taken from

either private or forest preserve lands included

fish, wild meats, wild plant materials, and

skins. In computing the economic value of

household resource production based on retail

values of similar commodities in local stores,

Rattner found that

the average household in the

study area generates about $1500

gross value a year of resource

products. Low income non-farm

households produce about $700 on

average while the average value of

non-low income household

production is about $1800. In the

aggregate, the gross value of

annual household resource

production for home consumption

and local markets for all

households in Crown Point was

estimated to be $910,780. This

makes household resource

production the third largest source

of community income after wages

and Social Security transfer

payments (Rattner 1984).

Unfortunately, data which might more

directly relate to subsistence resource use of

wilderness areas in the United States are

unavailable. These examples from Northern

Canada and New York State illustrate the

monetary value of subsistence resources to

selected local, rural populations. These data

suggest that the use of natural resources for

personal consumption or for sale at local

markets represents a significant contribution to

household incomes of rural residents. These

additions to household income can be as

critical to residents of economically depressed

areas in the lower 48 states as they are in

Alaska. That this would be true for elk

harvested in the Bob Marshall Wilderness

Area, salmon or trout caught in the Great

Lakes, or berries and mushrooms harvested in

the Glacier Peak Wilderness Area is perhaps

self-evident.

ISSUES AND RECOMMENDATIONS

Although a considerable body of research

literature has been developed regarding

subsistence use of resources in Alaska and

Canada, use of renewable natural resources for

non-recreational subsistence purposes by rural

populations in modem industrial societies is a

poorly understood phenomenon. We know very

little about the role of fish, wildlife, and plant

species in the livelihoods and lifestyles of

resource-dependent households. This is

especially true of use that may occur in

150
wilderness areas. But an increasing body of

research suggests the existence of a separate

set of values--subsistence values--that are

distinctly different from values associated with

commercial or recreational activities. Given

this situation, it will be important to identify

the extent to which wilderness serves as a

repository of subsistence use in an

ever-developing world.

A Program of Scientific Research

Review of the current state of knowledge

with respect to subsistence opportunities in

wilderness indicates that critical information

gaps exist. Establishment of a program of

scientific studies will be necessary to identify

the nature and extent of subsistence use on

undeveloped public lands in the lower 48

States. The most basic need, perhaps, is to

develop measures which differentiate between

subsistence, recreational, and commercial users

on a functional basis. In our view, this will

involve identifying the array of social

meanings that people ascribe to natural

resource use. In this way, it will be possible

to distinguish between groups whose values

and attitudes concerning natural resource use

are oriented more toward sustenance, rather

than toward recreation, or solely as a

commercial pursuit.

But a number of other research questions

suggest themselves. What are the

characteristics of resource users who define

their resource-harvesting activities as

subsistence? Which species are harvested and

what are they used for? What is the extent to

which both Congressionally-mandated and &

facto wilderness provide opportunities for rural

residents to engage in subsistence-related

activities? Does wilderness, through its

protection of naturally-occurring conditions and

processes, provide for lifestyle options--either

engaged in by necessity or adopted by

choice--that would otherwise be precluded

through other land-use designations? Or is

wilderness, because of use limitations and

maintenance of old-growth plant associations,

actually an inferior biophysical environment for

subsistence use?

From an economic perspective, it would

be important to know the extent to which

subsistence resources contribute to the

socioeconomic wellbeing of resource-dependent

rural populations. To what extent, for

example, do subsistence activities (e.g.,

firewood gathering, hunting,) supplement

incomes earned through the cash economy or

through income-transfer programs? How can

the overall benefits of subsistence be valuated

in terms comparable with other resource uses?

To what extent do the nonedible byproducts

of fish, wildlife, and plants contribute to

handicraft articles developed for sale in local

markets? If participation itself is the key

payoff, what fish and wildlife populations are

necessary to satisfy subsistence needs if other

economic sectors provide the necessities for

physical survival? What is the magnitude of

resource-related cottage industries, and what is

the extent to which they contribute to the

regional economies? Should current

restrictions on motorized use and commercial

activities in wilderness be relaxed to provide

for barter opportunities and small-scale market

transactions (such as horse-logging, for

example)?

From a social perspective, what are the

magnitude and importance of resource sharing?

What are the patterns of resource distribution

and exchange in local communities, and to

what extent do those sharing networks

contribute to physical survival, kinship

cohesion, the solidarity of occupational and

friendship groups, and community stability? Is

resource sharing primarily expressive, or is

there instrumental importance associated with

resource distribution activities?

From a cultural perspective, to what

extent does subsistence use of wilderness

resources contribute to the perpetuation of

cultural values and institutions (e.g., Indian

potlatches in Southeast Alaska)? Are local,

rural sub-cultures in danger of extinction?

How should wilderness management be

modified to provide human cultural diversity?

A research program directed toward

subsistence use of renewable natural resources

may ultimately identify relationships between

wilderness and opportunities for

subsistence-related activities. Answers to these

and other research questions regarding

subsistence use of renewable natural resources

in the United States, particularly in wilderness,

151
will provide information specifically focused

on resource users more accurately characterized

by a subsistence orientation.

Management Sensitive to the Needs of

Subsistence Users

As demands for intensive resource

management of public lands continue to

increase, potentially destructive effects on

subsistence uses may occur. Intensive timber

harvest, mineral extraction, recreation use,

these and other development activities threaten

both subsistence activities themselves as well

as the resource species upon which subsistence

users depend. Wilderness--with its

undeveloped status protected by law--may

serve as a repository for subsistence species,

thereby providing continued opportunities for

resource harvest by economically and culturally

dependent user groups.

But a biophysical environment capable of

providing subsistence species is only one

necessary condition for subsistence use to take

place. A second necessary condition is an

institutional arrangement sensitive to the needs

of subsistence users. In addition to the

beneficial effects of wilderness designation on

subsistence, wilderness status may present

certain limitations to resource harvest as well.

As Harmon (1987) has correctly perceived,

protected areas (such as National Parks and

wilderness) have the potential to present certain

constraints for people who are dependent on

natural resources for their subsistence. These

limitations must be recognized, and, in so

doing, it must be acknowledged that other

protected-area designations may be more

suitable in providing for subsistence use.

It is a common perception that

Congressional designation of wilderness results

in subsequent crowding and overuse. This

“designation effect” is believed to stimulate

increases in wilderness use through resource

agency information programs, private

marketing efforts, and word-of-mouth (h4cCool

1985). Although there is limited systematic

research empirically verifying this hypothesis,

in the event that wilderness classification

actually results in substantial use increases, the

impacts on subsistence users could be severe.

Overcrowding, resource degradation from

overuse, and competition for available

resources often result when human use of an

atea increases dramatically. A possible effect

would be to displace subsistence users out of

an area into alternative, less productive, less

desirable areas, perhaps foreclosing

opportunities for subsistence use altogether.

Another institutional barrier to

subsistence use of wilderness may be access

restrictions. In desiring to provide areas

essentially untrammeled by man, the

Wilderness Act disallowed road construction,

airplanes, snowmachines, powerboats,

motorbikes, and other motorized uses in order

to protect naturally-occurring wilderness

conditions. At the same time that these access

restrictions provide environmental protection,

however, they limit access to the subsistence

resources that may be available in wilderness.

While it is true that subsistence users would

continue to have the same access to wilderness

as recreational and other users, subsistence

activity is often characterized by optimal

foraging strategies dependent on efficient

means of harvest, processing, and

transportation. Packing deer meat out in a

backpack may contribute to a sporthunter’s

sense of self-reliance or communing with

nature. For many subsistence users, however,

it would represent an inefficient use of time

and labor, which could be more productively

employed elsewhere if only they could

transport their deer home by jeep instead.

Finally, wilderness presents one

additional limitation on subsistence use. One of

the precepts behind the Wilderness Act was to

preserve natural processes including,

presumably, naturally-occurring cycles of fish

and wildlife populations. In addition to

adequate habitat, the provision of

sustained-yield levels of fish and wildlife

populations often depend on intensive

management programs conducted by resource

agencies. Consequently, many fish and

wildlife management activities--such as creating

desired species-age vegetative classes, creating

openings, fish stocking, waterfowl nesting

boxes, prescribed fire to enhance moose

habitat, deer winter range improvements,

predator control, etc.--are likely to be

precluded in wilderness. Restrictions mandated

by the Wilderness Act (or by implementing

regulations developed by the various resource

152
agencies) often do not allow for the intensive

management programs necessary to provide the

levels of fish and wildlife populations

sufficient to meet the needs of all user groups.

More complete and dependable

information is needed in order to define the

appropriate role of wilderness in providing

subsistence opportunities. As previously

discussed, many subsistence activities are fully

compatible with wilderness, but there may be

others that are in conflict with wilderness

designation for various reasons. This raises

difficult questions regarding whether wilderness

policy should be modified in some way to

accommodate subsistence use by local, rural

populations.

CONCLUSIONS

One of the features frequently used to

distinguish modern societies from developing

countries is their respective orientations toward

renewable natural resources. In primitive

societies, household production strategies

continue to involve direct procurement of

renewable natural resources for subsistence.

Use of natural resources in modem societies,

on the other hand, is more commonly believed

to involve only recreation or commercial

exploitation. Within rural areas of modem

societies, the existence of resource uses more

appropriately defined as subsistence is rarely

acknowledged by natural resource policymakers

and managers. The result has been a situation

in which subsistence users are being provided

for only incidentally--under regulations

designed to govern recreational and commercial

uses--rather than through sound, pro-active

policy formation. The existence of subsistence

users as a distinct clientele sub-group

possessing a separate set of meanings and

values needs to be recognized. To do

otherwise risks overlooking an important

segment of the total set of values derived from

public sector natural resources.

Alves, William. 1980. Residents and

resources: findings of the Alaska public

survey on the importance of natural

resources to the quality of life in

southeast Alaska. University of Alaska,

Institute for Social and Economic

Research, Anchorage, AK.

Barsh, R.L. 1982. The economics of a

traditional coastal Indian salmon fishery.

Human Organization, 41: 170-176.

Charnley, S. 1983. Moose hunting in two

central Kuskokwim communities:

Chuathbaluk and Sleetmute. Technical

paper No. 76, Alaska Department of Fish

and Game, Division of Subsistence,

Juneau, AK.

Ellen, Roy. 1982. Environment, Subsistence,

and System. Cambridge University

Press, Cambridge, England.

Drucker, Phillip. 1965. Cultures of the North

Pacific Coast. Chandler Publishing Co.,

Scranton, PA.

Fall, James A., D.J. Foster, and Ronald T.

Stanek. 1983. The use of moose and

other wild resources in the Tyonek and

upper Yentna areas: a background

report. Technical Paper No. 74, Alaska

Department of Fish and Game, Division

of Subsistence, Juneau, AK.

Gladwin, C.H. and J. Butler. 1982.

Gardening: a survival strategy for the

small, part-time Florida farm.

Proceedings, Florida State Horticultural

Society, 95:264-268.

Glass, Ronald J. 1987. Subsistence as a

component of the mixed economic base

in a modernizing community. Paper

presented at the annual conference of the

American Association for the

Advancement of Science, Arctic

Division, Anchorage, AK, September

23-26, 1987.

REFERENCES

Albrecht, H. 1972. The concept of

subsistence. Zeitshrift fur Auslandische

Landwirtschaft, 11:274-288.

Glass, Ronald J. and Robert M. Muth. 1987a.

Pitfalls and limitations in the use of

fisheries valuation techniques.

Transactions of the American Fisheries

Society, 116:381-389.

153
Glass, Ronald J. and Robert M. Muth. 1987b.

Inadequate payoff evaluation as a

deterrent to integrated resource

management. Proceedings, 52nd North

American Wildlife and Natural Resources

Conference, pp. 101-111.

Glass, Ronald J. and Robert M. Muth. 1986.

Natural resource allocation decisionmaking in Alaska: systematic evaluation

of socioeconomic impacts on subsistence

lifestyles. Paper presented at the First

National Symposium on Social Science

and Resource Management, Corvallis,

OR, May, 12-16, 1986.

Gmelch, George and Sharon Bohn Gmelch.

1985. Resource use in a small Alaska

city--Sitka. Technical Paper No. 90,

Alaska Department of Fish and Game,

Division of Subsistence, Juneau, AK.

Harmon, David. 1987. Cultural diversity,

human subsistence, and the national park

ideal. Environmental Ethics,

9(summer):147-158.

Lichens, A.B. 1977. A case study in fish

management on the Deschutes River. In

Schwiebert, E., editor, Columbia River

Salmon and Steelhead. ,American

y;yly; Society, Washington, DC, pp.

Mills, Dave. 1982. The procurement and use

of abalone in Southeast Alaska.

Technical Report No. 40, Alaska

Department of Fish and Game, Division

of Subsistence, Juneau, AK

Mills, Dave, Valerie Sumida, Gabe George,

and Matt Kookesh. 1984. Salmon use

by residents of the Chilkat and Chilkoot

river drainages, 1983. Technical Report

No. 95, Alaska Department of Fish and

Game, Division of Subsistence, Juneau,

AK.

Muth, Robert M. Forthcoming. Community

stability as social structure: the role of

subsistence uses of natural resources in

Southeast Alaska. Accepted for

publication in a forthcoming textbook

entitled, Community and Forestry:

Continuities and Natural Resources

Sociology, edited by Robert G. Lee,

William R. Burch, Jr., and Donald R.

Field, to be published by Westview

Press.

Muth, Robert M., David E. Ruppert, and

Ronald J. Glass. 1987. Subsistence use

of fisheries resources in Alaska:

implications for Great Lakes fisheries

management. Transactions of the

American Fisheries Society, 116:510-518.

McCool, Stephen F. 1985. Does Wilderness

designation lead to increased recreational

use? Journal of Forestry, 83(1):39-41.

Newton, Richard and Madonna Moss. 1984.

The subsistence lifeway of the Tlingit

people: excerpts from oral interviews.

U.S.D.A. Forest Service, Alaska Region,

Juneau, AK.

Oberg, Kalervo. 1973. The Social Economy

of the Tlingit Indians. University of

Washington Press, Seattle, WA

Rattner, Shanna E. 1984. Diversified

household survival strategies and natural

resource use in the Adirondacks: a case

study of Crown Point, New York,

Masters Thesis, Cornell University,

Ithaca, NY.

Reed, Patrick. 1987. Personal communication

with the senior author.

Schneider, W. 1982. Subsistence in Alaska:

a look at the issue over time. Pages

169-180 in P.G. Cornwall and G.

McBeath, editors. Alaska’s Rural

Development. Westview Press, Boulder,

co.

Sharif, M. 1986. The concept and

measurement of subsistence: a survey of

the literature. World Development,

14555-577.

United States Congress. 1980. Alaska

National Interest Lands Conservation

Act. P.L. 96-487, 94 Stat., U.S.

pcvemment Printing Office, Washington,

154
U.S.D.A. Forest Service. 1983. Forest Service

Manual, Chapter 2320-Wilderness,

Primitive Areas, and Wilderness Study

Areas (draft). Region 10 Supplement

No. 34, U.S.D.A. Forest Service, Alaska

Region, Juneau, AK.

Usher, Peter J. 1976. Evaluating country food

in the Northern Native economy. Arctic,

29(2):105-120.

Victor and Burrell Research and Consulting,

J.E. Hanna Associates, Inc., and Hough,

Stansbury, and Michalski, Limited.

198 1. Methods for assessing the

socioeconomic impact! of acid rain on

Canada’s fisheries. Report prepared for

Canada Department of Fisheries and

Oceans, Toronto, Canada.

Wolfe, Robert J. 1984. Subsistence-based

socioeconomic systems in Alaska: an

introduction. Unpublished mimeo,

Alaska Department of Fish and Game,

Division of Subsistence, Juneau, AK.

155
THERAPEUTIC VALUE OF WILDERNESS

Lynn Le vitt*

ABSTRACT

D uring th e past fifty years, th e re h as

been grow ing recognition of th e th e rapeutic

value of w ild e rness for ind ividuals w ith

psych ological, social, and ph ysiological

d isord e rs. Cam ping in w ild e rness or

w ild e rness-lik e settings h as resulted in

personal, social, em otional, cognitive, and

psych om otor b enefts’for participants. Th ese

ind ividual b enefits in turn m ay lead to societal

and econom ic b enefits. Issues and

recom m endations includ e: im prove d

expe rim ental research designs, program

planning, expansion of and m ore gove rnm ent

support for such program s, and netw ork ing

am ong reh abilitative personnel and w ild e rness

m anage rs.

INTRODUCTION

Individuals with psychological, social and

physiological disorders would be labeled

‘exceptional” children and adults today. By

definition, exceptional children are “those who

require special educational and related services

if they are to realize their fullest human

potential” (Hallahan and Kauffman 1982). If

this definition is extended to adults, such

groups as the mentally retarded, emotionally

disturbed, physically handicapped, hearing or

vision impaired, learning disabled would be

included. Since the literature on camping

experiences for exceptional children and adults

is so vast over 500 studies (Vinton and others

1978)-- this paper will focus primarily on those

individuals with psychological and social

disorders, i.e., emotionally disturbed children

and adolescents and chronic mentally ilI adults.

However, many of the therapeutic benefits,

issues, and recommendations discussed in this

paper are similar to camping experiences for

other groups of exceptional children and adults,

Moreover, since most camping programs

for emotionally disturbed children and chronic

mentally ill adults do not take place in

backcountry wilderness, the term “therapeutic

camping” will be used throughout this paper.’

Although camping programs for

emotionally disturbed children and adolescents

have existed for over 50 years, camping

programs for chronic mentally ill adults have

evolved more recently. The goals of therapeutic

camping programs for emotionally disturbed

children and adolescents and chronic mentally

ill adults are similar. They are to foster

normal behavior patterns, emotions, and

attitudes by encouraging participants to interact

socially in an acceptable manner, to participate

in activities, to be independent, to show

initiative, to acquire new skills, and to make

individual and group decisions. (For other

groups of exceptional children and adults such

as the physically handicapped, enhanced

perceptual and motor skills and increased

physical stamina are also goals.)

When comparing therapeutic camping

programs, there is great diversity in the

duration of the camping period, type of

outdoor setting, the patients/clients, the staff,

and the camper/staff ratios. Although some

camping programs are day camps (Bergan

1958; Lee 1983; Orbach 1966). most are shortterm camping programs with overnight stays

ranging from a few days to a few weeks (Baer

and others 1975; Banaka and Young 1985;

Herr 1975; Kaplan and Reneau 1965; Lowry

1974; McCreary-Juhasz and Jensen 1968;

McFarland and others 1967; Reitman and

Pokomy 1974; Remar and Lowry 1974; Rerek

1973; Shearer 1975; Smith 1959; Weisman and

others 1966).

Only a few therapeutic camping

programs took place in rugged, backcountry

wilderness areas where participants camped in

tents (Coffey and Ferree 1974; Collingwood

* Professor of Psych ology, New York Institute of Tech nology, Sch ool of H um anities, O ld W e stbury, NY.

156
1972; Hobbs and Shelton 1972; Kistler and

others 1977; Kole and Busse 1969; Ohio

Department of Mental Health and Mental

Retardation 1979). Usually mountainous,

forested regions of this country such as

National Parks and Forests, State parks, or

forest preserves are used (Ackerman and others

1959; Bergan 1958; Hobbs and Radka 1976;

McDonald 1974; Neffiger and others 1984;

Reitman and Pokomy 1974; Shearer 1975;

Tuttle and others 1975). Typically camping

sites with developed facilities such as cabins, a

dining hall or recreational building are chosen

(Ackerman and others 1959; Acuff 1961;

Barker and Weisman 1966;, Henke and Kuhlen

1943; Herr 1977; McFarland and others 1967;

Middleman and Seever 1963.; Morse 1947;

Ramsey 1969; Reitman and Porkomy 1974;

Rerek 1973; Rickard and others 1971; Smith

1959; Weisman and others 1966; Winter and

Winter 1968).

Usually, small groups of less than 10 to

midsize groups of up to 50 participants are

taken camping (George and Gibson 1959;

Hobbs and Shelton 1972; Kistler and others

1977; McCreary-Juhasz and Jensen 1968;

Neffmger and others 1984; Orbach 1966;

Rickard and others 1971; Stimpson and

Pederson 1970; Tuttle and others 1975;

Weisman and others 1966). Camper/staff

ratios range from approximately l/l (Jerstad

and Stelzer 1973; McDonald 1974) to 3/l or

5/l (Neffiger and others 1984; Peterson and

Acuff 1955; Stoudenmire and Comola 1973).

Programs for emotionally disturbed

children and adolescents are usually restricted

to all males or all females with most programs

being all-male. The children and adolescents

are usually referred to the programs by service

organizations, schools, community mental

health centers, or state institutions. Programs

for children and adolescents include individuals

with a wide variety of disorders such as

phobias, low school achievement, hostility,

aggression, withdrawal, adjustment problems,

delinquency, sociopathic behavior, etc. On the

other hand, programs for chronic mentally ill

adults are invariably mixed-sex groups of

different ages although a few programs limit

their populations to geriatric patients/clients

(Lee 1983; Rerek 1973). The mentally ill

adults usually come from state mental hospitals

or institutions (e.g., Rerek 1973), but some

come from community mental health programs

or private hospitals (e.g., George and Gibson

1959; Orbach 1966). Camping programs for

mentally ill adults usually include chronic

schizophrenics or schizophrenics in

combination with other diagnostic categories

(Acuff 1961; Banaka and Young 1985; Bergan

1958; George and Gibson 1959; McFarland

and others 1967; Peterson and Acuff 1955;

Shearer 1975; Whittekin 1967).

Participants are usually volunteers

selected for such programs by the staff

involved (e.g., Lowry 1974; Orbach 1966;

Ramsey 1969; Stich and Senior 19084). While

criteria for selection/elimination are not always

clearly stated, certain children and adolescents

ate eliminated depending on the nature of the

program. For example, one program

eliminated delinquents with severe

psychopathology and a history of violent or

assaultive behavior (Kelly and Baer 1969).

Chronic mentally ill adults, those patients not

able to care for their personal needs, those with

some physical and/or medical impairment, or

those who could possibly be behavior problems

such as paranoid patients, homicidal patients,

or addicts in active withdrawal (Lee 1983;

McNeil 1957; Ramsey 1969; Remar and Lowry

1974; Stich and Senior 1984; Weisman and

others 1966) have been eliminated as well.

The staffs of therapeutic camping

programs consist of a combination of

professionals and non-professionals such as

clinical psychologists, rehabilitation therapists,

recreational therapists, medical physicians,

volunteer college students, cooks, and

professional guides. While the importance of

staff selection has been noted (Smith 1959),

the criteria for selection of the staff are usually

not stated. The staff for certain programs were

chosen because of their experience in working

with young chronic patients, for their skills,

backpacking experience, or interest and

motivation to participate in such programs

(e.g., Lowry 1974; Neffinger and others 1984;

Ramsey 1969).

157
INVENTORY OF USE

1987 Wilderness Use

Information regarding the total acreage

and location of the wilderness areas in use for

therapeutic camping programs is not available.

However, therapeutic camping programs for

exceptional children and adults exist in almost

all states in the United States. Although the

Minnesota Outward Bound School for the

Physically Disabled uses the Boundary Waters

Canoe Area, most of the therapeutic camping

programs do not use wilderness areas formally

designated by Congress but utilize other natural

environments such as State parks or national

forests.

Societal Benefits ’

Because individuals with psychological,

social, and physiological disorders derive

benefits from participating in therapeutic

camping programs (see Value of Use section),

societal benefits should also accrue. Since

results of some studies indicate that therapeutic

camping can lead to discharge from mental

hospitals/institutions, shorter hospital stays, and

reduced recidivism rates, considerable financial

savings to taxpayers should result. Taxpayers

will no longer have to pay for long-term

custodial care of these persons in institutions.

Moreover, if participants can be

rehabilitated to the point where they can

function competently in performing the

activities of daily living and/or obtain full-time

or part-time employment, they can lead active

and productive lives. The communities in

which they live and society in general benefit

in terms of their economic productivity, their

ability to pay taxes, and their increased

purchasing power. Thus, they reduce welfare

rolls and become less of a financial burden and

drain on already taxed resources of the

government (Federal, State, and local). By

helping to rehabilitate these individuals,

therapeutic camping programs may perhaps

contribute to reducing the numbers of homeless

mentally ill and the crime rate in our cities.

Thus, the quality of life for all citizens is

enhanced.

In addition, since prejudice and

discrimination exist against stigmatized groups

such as the mentally ill and physically

handicapped exists in our society (Levitt and

Viney 1973), having self-functioning citizens in

the community may lessen prejudices against

them because they may be viewed as more

“normal.” Vinton and others (1978) list several

programs in which handicapped and nonhandicapped children interacting at camp

actually improved attitudes toward the

handicapped.

Finally, through therapeutic camping

programs, exceptional children and adults may

come to appreciate the esthetic and spiritual

qualities of wilderness and hence contribute

toward wilderness conservation efforts in their

community and/or nation.

VALUE OF USE

Experimental Design and Methodology

Research on the effects of therapeutic

camping programs has been conducted by

professionals in a wide variety of disciplines

such as psychology, social work, criminal

justice, nursing, recreational therapy, and

education. When evaluating therapeutic

camping programs, the majority of researchers

have used either Campbell and Stanley’s (1963)

one-shot case study (Caplan 1967; George and

Gibson 1959: Jerstad and Stelzer 1973;

Kaplan and Reneau 1965; Kistler and others

1977; Remar and Lowry 1974) or the one

group pretest-posttest design (Jensen and others

1968; Kelly and Baer 1968; McCreary-Juhasz

and Jensen 1968; Orbach 1966; Stimpson and

Pederson 1970; Stoudemire and Comola 1973;

Tuttle and others 1975). In the one-shot case

study, participants are taken to some type of

natural environment and changes in their

behavior are assessed. In the one group

pretest-posttest design, measures are taken of

the participants before and after the therapeutic

camping program to assess any behavioral or

physical changes resulting from the camping

experience. Some researchers added control or

comparison groups (e.g., Banaka and Young

1985; Kaplan and Reneau 1974; Kelly and

Baer 1968, 1971; Ritter and Mock 1980;

Shniderman 1974; Stich 1983).

158
The data are usually observational or

anecdotal in nature (e.g., Byers 1978; Caplan

1967; Eells 1947; George and Gibson 1959;

Goodrich 1947; Jerstad and Stelzer 1973;

Landes and Winter 1966; Lowry 1974;

McDonald 1974; Middleman and Seever 1963;

Morse 1947; Neffinger and others 1984;

Peterson and Acuff 1955; Smith 1959; Stich

and Senior 1984). Some researchers have used

instruments such as personality tests, attitude

and rating scales, questionnaires, daily journals,

file data, or the Modified Bales Interaction

Matrix (Baer and others 1975; Banaka and

Young 1985; Collingwood 1972; Katz and

Kolb n.d.; Kelly and Baer 1968, 1969; Mondell

and others 1981; Ritter and Mock 1980; Stich

1983; Stimpson and Pederson 1970; Tuttle and

others 1975). In analyzing the data, only a

few researchers used statistical tests of

significance (Baer and others 1975; Banaka

and Young 1985; Henke and Kuhlen 1943;

Herr 1975; Hughes 1979; Kelly and Baer

1968; Mondell and others 198 1; Orbach 1966,

Ritter and Mock 1980; Ryan and Johnson

1972; Shniderman 1974; Stimpson and

Pederson 1970; Tuttle and others 1975). Also,

very few researchers have conducted any

follow-up studies (Baer and others 1975;

Banaka and Young 1985; Barker and Weisman

1966; Jensen and others 1968; Kistler and

others 1977; Ramsey 1969; Rickard and Dinoff

1967; Ritter and Mock 1980).

Personal, Social, Emotional, and Cognitive

Benefits of Therapeutic Camping Programs

The results of the majority of studies

indicate that therapeutic camping has beneficial

effects for emotionally disturbed children and

adolescents and mentally ill adults. The major

personal, social, emotional, and cognitive

benefits include the following:

(1) Improved physical health, fitness and

increased appetites (Caplan 1967; Collingwood

1972; Reitman and Pokomy 1974).

(2) Enhanced self-concept, self-esteem,

and self-confidence (Coffey and Ferree 1974;

Collingwood 1972; Hobbs and Shelton 1972;

Hughes and Dudley 1973; Kelly and Baer

1969; Kimsey and Frost 1971; McCrearyJuhasz and Jensen 1968; McDonald 1974;

Muller 1971; Shank 1975; Stimpson and

Pederson 1970; Weisman and others 1966;

Winter and Winter 1968).

(3) Increased initiative (Weisman and

others 1966).

(4) Increased atient enthusiasm and fun

(Kistler and others 977; Neffinger and others P

1984; Reitman and Pokomy 1974; Whittekin

1967).

(5) Improved school attitudes and

behaviors (Behar and Stephens 1978; Coffey

and Femx 1974; Rawson 1973; Rickard and

Dinoff 1967; Shnid&M! 1974)).

(6) Dischuge from hospitals, shorter

hospital stays, and reduced recidivism rates

(Acuff 1961; Baer and others 1975; Barker and

Weisman 1966; Jerstad and Stelzer 1973; Kelly

and Baer 1968, 1971; Lowry 1974, Peterson

and Acuff 1955; Rerek 1973; Weisman and

others 1966; Willman and Chun 1973).

(7) Changes in

\R$l.$ud and others f

oup

1

problem solving

75; Rlckard and others

.

(8) Fewer emotional problems and

pathological symptoms (Behar and Stephens

1978; Henke and Kuhlen 1943; Ritter and

Mock 1980; Rosen 1959; Shearer 1975;

Stoudenm$e and Comola 1973: Whittekin

1967; Winter and Winter 1966).

(9) Development of new interests and

improved skills (Bar&a and Young 1985;

McCreary-Juhasz and Jensen 1968; Reitrnan

and Polcomy 1974).

(10) Establishment of friendships (Barker

and Weisman 1966; Lee 1983; Remar and

Lowry 1974).

(11) Increased quality and quantity of

social interactions (Ban&a and Young 1985;

Herr 1977; Hobbes and Radka 1976; Hughes

1979; Kaplan and Reneau 1965; Kelly and

Baer 1968; Lowry 1974; McCreary-Juhasz and

Jensen 1968; Rawson 1973; Reitman and

Pokomy 1974: Shearer 1975; Smith 1959;

Tuttle and others 1975).

(12) Im oved patient-staff relationships

(George and &ribson 1959; Herr 1975; Kaplan

159
and Reneau 1965; McFarland and others 1967;

Ramsey 1969; Reitman and Pokomy 1974;

Rerek 1973; Smith 1959).

For other groups of exceptional children

and adults, Shea (1977) reports that additional

psychomotor, diagnostic, placement, and

remedial benefits as well as benefits to family,

teachers, counselors, volunteers and trainees

result.

However, some studies indicate that

therapeutic camping can have negative effects

including passive aggressive behavior,

regressive behavior, depression or suicide, or

no effects on certain behaviors (Byers 1978;

Henke and Kuhlen 1943; McDonald 1974;

Muller 1971; Orbach 1966; Polenz and Rubitz

1977; Ritter and Mock 1980; Shniderman

1974). Red1 (1974) even cautions against the

psychopathic risks of camp life.

Economic Benefits

The economic benefits of therapeutic

camping should be looked at in terms of the

cost-effectiveness of these programs and the

resulting economic savings to society. While

these programs must demonstrate costeffectiveness to influence policymakers, it is

difficult to determine the cost-effectiveness of

therapeutic camping programs. Heller and

Monahan (1977) state that the three types of

costs and economic benefits that must be taken

into account when analyzing community

programs include client costs (e.g., professional

salaries, administration, insurance); other public

costs and benefits (impact on public agencies

or the environment), and client-related costs

and benefits (e.g., nonfinancial benefits). In

evaluating the costs of therapeutic camping

programs, the client costs (e.g., professional

salaries, camping supplies, transportation)

would be relatively easy to compute.

However, the other public and client-related

costs and benefits would be more difficult to

assess. For example, if one prevents a juvenile

delinquent from entering a life of crime, should

one figure the costs that society would have

incurred in terms of crimes committed, costs

for reformatories or prisons, etc. (Heller and

Monahan 1977)? In addition to these

problems, how does one measure the

nonfinancial costs of a social program (Heller

and Monahan 1977)? How does one put a

dollar value on the behaviors and attitudes that

change as a result of therapeutic camping?

Can one place a dollar value on enhanced selfconcept? Heller and Monahan caution the

evaluation of social programs in purely

financial terms and state that the human factors

side must also be considered in the benefits.

Perhaps because of such difficulties or

lack of funds and resources to conduct

evaluations, to date most researchers have not

reported anything about the cost-effectiveness

of therapeutic camping programs. While some

caution against the expense of such programs

(Shea 1977), others claim that their programs

am cost-effective. Banaka and Young (1985)

claim that their camping program was costeffective when one compares the cost of one

month in a hospital with the costs of camp.

Six months after camp, Banaka and Young

state the control group had accumulated

hospital costs at twice the rate of camping

program participants. Stich (1983) stated that

participants in the Outward Bound Mental

Health Program had shorter hospital stays

which represent substantial savings.

Since calculating the costs of psychiatric

care is complex (Bloom 1984), it is difficult to

estimate how much money taxpayers save if a

patient is discharged from an institution, has

shorter hospital stays or is readmitted less

often. However, a nationwide study of the

costs of institutional cam for the mentally

retarded and the developmentally disabled in

the United States between the Fiscal years

1977 and 1984 gives us some clue as to the

costs (Braddock and others 1986). These

authors state that for the first time the

nationwide per diem exceeded $100 in 1984.2

In another study, the cost of one hour of

outpatient services at a community mental

health and mental retardation center averaged

$53.15 for adults and $52.32 for children

(Gorin 1986).

While some individuals argue that

services concerned with the rehabilitative

process cost less outside the institution

(Albrecht 1976). others claim they cost more

(Bloom 1984; Kirk and Therrien 1975; Smith

and Hart 1975). Bloom (1984) cautions that

the extra costs for community care might be

acceptable if the economic benefits of the care

160
(e.g., increased tax revenues, reduced welfare

support) exceed the costs. In fact, results of

one study show projected benefits of

community care over a lo-year period for 52

mentally ill or retarded individuals would

exceed the costs by $20,000 a patient (Murphy

and Date1 1976). The cost of mental illness is

rising and reached nearly $37 billion in the

United States in 1974, with $14.5 billion of

this expended for direct patient services

(Levine and Willner 1976). In the austere

fiscal climate now imposed by the Graham,

Rudman, and Hollings Bill and with an

increasing share of the costs of

institutionalization paid by the Federal

government (Braddock and others 1986),

policymakers should consider funding for

innovative programs.

TREND IN USE

Camping for exceptional children was

fiit recorded in the United States in 1888

(Vinton and others 1978). Since the 1930’s,

camping programs for exceptional children and

adults have grown tremendously. Today there

are over 225 camps for persons with special

health needs (National Easter Seal Society for

Crippled Children and Adults 1973). These

camps are located in all regions of the United

States.

Today backpacking in developed and

wilderness areas via organized or independent

camping is also gaining in popularity among

handicapped individuals (Vinton and others

1978). Groups such as Outward Bound

conduct wilderness trips for exceptional

children. The Minnesota Outward Bound

School has experimented with Outward Bound

schools for the handicapped, blind, hearingimpaired, and persons with a variety of

physical disabilities (Godfrey 1980). Results

of these pilot programs have indicated that

people with severe disabilities are far more

capable than previously supposed. Men

without legs have climbed a rock face and

portaged a canoe. The Federal and State parks

have expanded services in recent years to

include not only accessible outdoor facilities

but also total environment programming for the

handicapped (Vinton and others 1978).

Thus, the trend is toward exposing more

and more groups of exceptional children and

adults to camping therapy in some wilderness

or wilderness-like setting. However, it has

been estimated that only 10 percent of the

estimated 10 million handicapped children and

youth in the United States are now being

served by camp programs for handicapped

individuals (Vinton and others 1978).

ISSUES AND RECOMMENDATIONS

Environmental and Social Implications

With increasing groups of exceptional

children and adults expected to use existing

wilderness areas, parks, national forests, etc.,

further strain will be put on the already

existing wilderness areas. Therefore, more

wilderness areas need to be set aside to

accommodate the increasing needs and interests

of these groups. While designation of more

wilderness areas will be a partial solution, in

the future some difficult management decisions

will have to be made as to which areas should

provide necessary resources. Since results of a

recent telephone survey of wilderness managers

found that only 13 percent of wilderness

managers stated that there were any organized

programs for medical or therapeutic purposes

(Reed and Haas 1987), it would seem that this

is an area that certainly needs attention.

Needed Research

Experimental Design and Methodology

Although most research findings appear

to support the contention that camping in

wilderness or wilderness-like settings is indeed

therapeutic for emotionally disturbed children

and adolescents and chronic mentally ill adults,

the validity of these findings needs to be

questioned due to weaknesses in experimental

design and methodology. Because most of the

programs were evaluated without the use of

control or comparison groups and subjects

were not randomly assigned to treatment

conditions, the internal and external validity of

these designs is weak.

The internal validity of these designs is

weak because the treatment, therapeutic

161
camping, may be confounded with other factors

such as spontaneous remission, environmental

change, increased perceived control, or other

therapies used in conjunction with camping

therapy (Apter 1977; Clark and Kempler 1973;

Hobbs and Radka 1975; Hughes 1979).

Since most of the observations were

participant observation by the staff involved

and only a few .researchers reported interrater

reliability (Banaka and Young 1985; Orbach

1966), biases could have resulted. In addition,

the instruments used generally lacked reliability

and validity. Moreover, because statistical

tests of significance were rarely used in

analyzing the data, we do not know if the

results of these studies are statistically

significant. ATso, because of the use of small,

biased samples, it is unclear if the therapeutic

camping benefits generalize to other

populations. For example, do the benefits that

male adolescents achieved from therapeutic

camping apply to females? Since sex

differences in response to therapeutic camping

have already been found (Ryan and Johnson

1972), this issue becomes more salient.

Finally, it is crucial that short-term and

long-term follow-up studies be conducted

(Ben&e 1975; Hobbs and Radka 1976;

Mondell and others 1981; Perlman 1947).

Without follow-up studies we do not know if

the beneficial effects of therapeutic camping

programs generalize from wilderness to nonwilderness settings or how permanent the

effects are. Already there is evidence that

some benefits dissipate over time (Banaka and

Young 1985).

Therefore, if future research is to be

more acceptable to the scientific community

and is to provide a stronger data base from

which to argue for financial support of such

programs, there must be improvements in

experimental design and methodology. To

accomplish this, improvements in all of the

areas cited (e.g., use of control groups, reliable

and valid measures, follow-up studies,

statistical tests of significance) are needed.

Therapeutic aspects of camping

To date we still do not know what is

therapeutic about camping in a wilderness or

.62

wilderness-like setting. Is it the flora and

fauna of wilderness, the uniqueness of

wilderness, the low level of stimulation of

wilderness, the esthetic or spiritual value of

wilderness, the isolation of wilderness from the

stresses of the city, or the ability of wilderness

to evoke coping behaviors that produce

therapeutic gains? (Acuff 1961; Apter 1977;

Bernstein 1972; Neffmger and others 1984;

Thomas 1981) Or is it some other confounding

factor (e.g., increased perceived control,

environmental change) rather than wilderness

that is the therapeutic agent?

Moreover, since the nature of camping

therapies differ widely (e.g., duration of the

camping period, the camp activities, the

camper/staff ratios), it is unclear what aspects

of these programs contribute to the therapeutic

gains or if it is the interaction of the program

with the environment that produces these gains.

Finally, it is not known if the beneficial effects

of therapeutic camping programs are dependent

on the natural environment or if these same

benefits could be achieved in other settings.

Program planning

Several questions need to be answered

concerning the operation of therapeutic

camping programs (Gibson 1979). We need

information as to whether camping programs

should be designed differently for children

and/or adults with different diagnoses, ages,

chronicity, etc. It has already been suggested

that different type programs are needed for

adolescents, chronic mentally ill adults, and

less disturbed adults (Remar and Lowry 1974).

Juvenile delinquents may need action-oriented,

challenging programs with periods of high

excitement and real danger and therefore may

be particularly well-suited for programs that

emphasize camping in rugged, backcountry,

wilderness areas. However, certain qualities of

Outward Bound may make it an inappropriate

treatment for urban juvenile delinquents or for

students with psychological fears and

difficulties (Katz and Kolb n.d.). Programs for

exceptional children should emphasize what

they can do rather than cannot do, and must be

flexible enough to meet the needs of each

individual child (Vinton and others 1978).

More information is also needed concerning

programs in which patient and relatives, or
handicapped and non-handicapped individuals

interact (Muller 1971; Rerek 1973; Vinton and

others 1978).

Criteria for selection and elimination of

participants are needed. Usually the criteria

are based on diagnosis, but other criteria such

as psychosocial dysfunction or length of

hospitalization may be important (Ramsey

1969; Stich and Senior.1984). In selecting the

staff for the more rugged programs such as

Outward Bound, selection is geared to those

with the functionally relevant skills needed to

implement the program (Collingwood 1972).

More information on camper/staff ratio for

various types of participants is also needed as

staff can foster independence or can hamper

growth and development (Vinton and others

1978). A l/l ratio for adolescents and 3/l or

higher for chronic mentally ill adults has been

recommended (Remar and Lowry 1974).

Since negative effects of therapeutic

camping on patients and staff have been

observed, research is needed on the nature of

workshops and/or meetings for the participants

and staff both before and after the camping

experience. In particular, more information on

the negative effects of camping programs on

the staff is needed.

What should the duration of the camping

period be? It has been suggested that one or

two days may be too short to expect desired

behavior changes necessary for normal

functioning (Shea 1977; Turner 1976).

Research on the effects of repetitive camping

experiences is also needed.

Other aspects of therapeutic camping

programs not ordinarily looked at, such as the

esthetic and spiritual value of wilderness or

changing attitudes and/or behaviors regarding

nature and conservation, should be explored.

Vinton and others (1978) state that camping

experiences for children and youth stimulate

lifelong interests in camping and outdoor

recreation.

permanent element of either a preventive or

rehabilitative program.

Additional Issues and Recommendations

Three further issues and

recommendations need to be made regarding

the use of wilderness as therapy. First, since

groups such as the physically handicapped can

ride horses, boat, canoe, kayak, ski, and

participate in the Special Olympics and have

an increased interest in backpacking, expansion

of such programs into wilderness areas of this

country should be made for exceptional

children and adults (providing their personal

limitations and problems of access to such

areas can be overcome). For example, Belshaw

(1979) cites a two-day expedition where

individuals in wheelchairs used elbow crutches

to get a taste of the remote upland terrain of

the countryside. These individuals should be

given the opportunity to experience wilderness

firsthand, something their handicaps may have

caused them to miss.

Second, more government financial

support and resources should be allocated for

the development of innovative programs that

have possible economic and societal

consequences as well. Elpers (1986) suggested

an increase of at least 1 percent for research

into the treatment of the mentally ill.

Third, some type of networking of

rehabilitative personnel, wilderness managers,

and personnel in the USDA Forest Service,

Fish and Wildlife Service, and Bureau of

Management is needed if programs like these

am to succeed.

In conclusion, it is hoped that this paper

exposes more individuals to the therapeutic

value of wilderness or wilderness-like settings

for individuals with psychological, social, and

physiological disorders and that the issues and

recommendations raised in this paper are

addressed.

Finally, a cost-effectiveness analysis of

each program needs to be conducted and

disseminated to other professionals. Costeffective programs are a prerequisite if

therapeutic camping is to be integrated as a

163
REFERENCES

Ackerman, 0. R., Mitsos, S. B., & Seymour,

M. A. 1959. Patients go camping in

Indiana. Mental Hospital, 10: 16-17.

Acuff, S. H. 1961. Camping: Transition

between hospital and home for the adult

mentally ill. Journal of Health, Physical

Education and Recreation, 32: 24-2562.

Albrecht, G. L. 1976. Social policy and the

management of human resources. In G.

L. Albrecht (Ed.) The Sociology of

Physical Disability and Rehabilitation.

g;; IJiversity of Pittsburgh Press, pp.

- .

Apter, S. J. 197’7. Therapeutic camping: An

alternative strategy for troubled children.

Journal of Clinical Child Psychology,

Winter: 73-75.

Baer, D. J., Jacobs, P. J., & Carr, T.E. 1975.

Instructors’ ratings of delinquents after

Outward Bound survival training and

their subsequent recidivism.

Psychological Reports, 36: 547-553.

Banaka, W. H., & Young, D. W. 1985.

Community coping skills enhanced by an

adventure camp for adult chronic

psychiatric patients. Hospital and

Community Psychiatry, 36(7): 746-748.

Barker, B., & Weisman, M. 1966. Residential

camping: Imaginative program helps

chronic mental patients. Journal of

Rehabilitation, 32: 26-27.

Behar, L., & Stephens, D. 1978. Wilderness

camping: An evaluation of a residential

treatment program for emotionally

disturbed children. American Journal of

Orthopsychiatry, ,48: 644-653.

Belshaw, P. 1979. Accent on adventure: an

account of outdoor pursuits. In L.

Groves (Ed.) Physical Education for

Special Needs, London: Cambridge

University Press, 81-98.

Bergan, J. F. 1958. Day camp in Connecticut.

Mental Hospital, 9: 12-13.

Bernstein, A. 1972. Wilderness as a therapeutic

behavior setting. Therapeutic Recreation

Journal, 6: 160-161,185.

Berube, P. 1975. Survival camping: A

therapeutic modality. Journal of

Leisurability, 2: )4-20.

Bloom, B. L. 1984. Community mental health:

A General introduction (2nd Ed.),

California: Brooks/Cole Publishing Co.

Braddock, D., Hemp, R., and Howes, R. 1986.

Direct costs of institutional care in the

United States. Mental Retardation,

24( 1): 9-17.

Byers, S. E. 1978. Counselor skill-training in a

year-round therapeutic wilderness camp:

Effect on camper and counselor

behaviors during problem solving

sessions, Dissertation Abstracts

International, 39(3-B), 1469.

Campbell, D. T., & Stanley, J. C. 1963.

Experimental and Quasi-experimental

designs for research. Chicago: Rand

McNally College Publishing Co.

Caplan, R. B. 1967. Tent treatment for the

insane--An early form of milieu therapy.

Hospital and Community Psychiatry. 18:

145-146.

Clark, J., & Kempler, H. L. 1973. Therapeutic

family camping: A rationale. Family

Coordinator, 22: 437-442.

Coffey, J. V., & Ferree, J. 1974. Buddies,

backpack and blisters. School

Counselor, 21: 230-232.

Collingwood, T. R. 1972. Survival camping

with problem youth. Rehabilitation

Record, 13: 22-25.

Eells, E. P. 1947. From the Sunset Camp

Service League: Camp as a therapeutic

community. The Nervous Child, 6: 225-

231.

Elpers, J. R. 1986. Dividing the mental health

dollar: The ethics of managing scarce

resources. Hospital and Community

Psychiatry, 37(7): 671-673.

164
George, G. R., & Gibson, R. W. 1959.

Patient-staff relationships change with

;r$ronment. Mental Hospital, 10: 18-

Gibson, P. M. 1979. Therapeutic aspects of

wilderness programs: A comprehensive

literature review. Therapeutic Recreation

Journal, 13: 21-33.

Godfrey, R. 1980. Outward Bound Schools

of the Possible, New York: Anchor

Books.

Goodrich, L. 1947. How ,much decentralized

camping can do for the child. The

Nervous Child, 6: 202-210.

Gorin, S. S. 1986. Cost-outcome analysis and

service planning in a CMHC. Hospital

and Community Psychiatry, 37(7): 696-

701.

Hallahan, D. P., & Kauffman, J. M. 1982.

Exceptional children: Introduction to

special education, N.J.: Prentice Hall.

Heller, K. & Monahan, J. 1977. Psychology

and community change, Illinois: The

Dorsey Press.

Her&e, M. W., & Kuhlen, R. G. 1943.

Changes in social adjustment in a

summer camp: A preliminary report.

Journal of Psychology, 15: 223-231.

Herr,

Herr,

D. E. 1975. Camp counseling with

emotionally disturbed adolescents.

Exceptional Children, 41(S): 331-332.

D. E. 1977. Institutionalized

adolescents’ perceptions of a summer

camp program. Adolescence, 12(47):

421-431.

Hobbs, T. R., & Radka, J. E. 1975. A shortterm therapeutic camping program for

emotionally disturbed adolescent boys.

Adolescence, 10: 447-455.

Hobbs, T. R., & Radka, J. E. 1976.

Modification of verbal productivity in

shy adolescents during a short-term

camping program. Psychological

Reports, 39: 735-739.

Hobbs, T. R., & Shelton, G. 1972.

Therapeutic camping for emotionally

disturbed adolescents. Hospital and

Community Psychiatry, 23: 298-301.

Hughes, H. M. 1979. Behavior change in

children at a therapeutic summer camp as

a function of feedback and individual

versus group contingencies. Journal of

Abnormal Child Psychology, 7(2): 211-

219.

Hughes, A. H., & Dudley, H. K. 1973. An

old idea for a new problem: Camping as

a treatment for the emotionally disturbed

in our state hospitals. Adolescence, 8:

43-50.

Jensen, S. E., McCreary-Juhasz, A., Brown, J.

S., & Hepinstall, E. M. 1968. Brief

communications and clinical notes:

Disturbed children in a camp milieu.

Canadian Psychiatric Association Journal,

13: 371-373.

Jerstad, L., 8z Stelzer, J. 1973. Adventure

experiences as treatment for residential

mental patients. Therapeutic Recreation

Journal, 7: 8-11.

Kaplan, H. K., & Reneau, R. F. 1965. Young

patients enjoy therapeutic camping.

235-237.

Katz,

Katz,

R., & Kolb, D. Outward Bound and

education for personal growth.

Unpublished. Office of Juvenile

Delinquency, HEW Grant No. 66013.

A. H., & Martin, K. 1982. A handbook

of services for the handicapped, COM.:

Greenwood Press.

Kelly, F. J., Baer, D. J. 1969. Jesness

Inventory and self-concept measures for

delinquents before and after participation

in Outward Bound. Psychological

Reports, 25: 719-724.

Kelly, F. J., & Baer, D. J. 1968. Outward

Bound Schools as an Alternative to

Institutionalization for Adolescent

Delinquent Boys, Boston, Mass: Fandel

Press, Inc.

165
Kelly, F. J., & Baer, D. J. 1971. Physical

challenge as a treatment for delinquency.

Crime and Delinquency, 17: 437-445.

Kirk, S. A., & Therrien, M. E. 1975.

Community mental health myths and the

fate of former hos

Psychiatry, 38: 208 .

ita$d patients,

Kimsey, L. R., dc Frost, M. 1971. mterm

camping for emotionally disturbed boys.

Diseases of the Nervous System, 32: 35-

40.

Kistler, K. S., Bryant, P. M., Bt Tucker, G. J.

1977. Outward Bound - providing a

therapeutic experience for troubled

adolescents.& Ho#$t&tnd Community

Psychiatry, 28( 11): 807,812.

Kole, D. M., & Busse, HI 1969. Trail

camping for delinquents. Hospital and

Community Psychiatry, 20: 150-153.

Landes, J., & Winter, W. 1966. A new

strategy for treating disintegrating

families. Family Process, 5: l-20.

Lee, J. A. 1983. The group: A chance at

human connection for the mentally

impaired older person. Social Work with

Groups, 5(2): 43-55.

Levine, d. S., BE Willner, S. 0. 1976. .T%e

cost of mental illness. NIMH Statistical

Note 125. Wash., D. C.: U.S.

Government Printing Office.

Levitt, L., 8z Viney, W. 1973. Inhibition of

aggression against the physically

disabled. Perceptual and Motor Skills,

36: 255-258.

Lowry, T. P. 1974. Camping as a short term

private psychiatric hospital. In T.P.

Lowry (Ed.) Camping Therapy: Its uses

in psychiatry and rehabilitation. Illinois:

Charles C. Thomas, pp.59-62.

McCreary-Juhasz, A., & Jensen, S. E. 1968.

Benefits of a school camp experience to

emotionally disturbed children in regular

classrooms. Exceptional Child&n, 34:

353-354.

McDonald, M. C. 1974. Adventure camping

at Oregon State Hospital. In T.P. Lowry

(Ed.) Camping therapy: Its uses in

psychiatry and Rehabilitation, Illinois:

Charles C. Thomas, pp. 16-31.

McFarland, F. W., Martin, R. C., & Williams,

T. A. 1967. Staff attitudes and patient

behavior than

H$?g and f

e on a camping trip.

ommumty Psychiatry, 18:

- .

McNeil, E. B. 1957. The background of

therapeutic camping. Journal of Social

Issues, 13: 3-14.

Middleman, R., & &ever, F. 1963. Short-term

camping for boys with behavior

problems. Social Work, 8: 88-95.

Mondell, S., Tyler, F. B., 8z Freeman, R. W.

1981. Evaluating a psychotherapeutic day

camp with psychosocial competence and

goal attainment measures. Journal of

$ical Child Psychology, lO(3): 180-

.

Morse, W. C. 1947. From the University of

Michigan Fresh Air Camp: Some

problems of therapeutic camping. The

Nervous Child, 6: 211-224.

Muller, D. J. 1971. Post-camping depression:

A lethal possibility. American Journal of

Psychiatry, 128(l): 141-143.

Murphy, J. G., & Datel, W. E. 1976. A costbenefit analysis of community vs.

institutional living. Hospital and

Community Psychiatry, 27: 165-170.

National Easter Seal Society for Crippled

Children and Adults. 1973. The Easter

Seal Directory of resident camps for

persons with special health needs (8th

Ed). Chicago, Illinois: National Easter

Seal Society for Crippled children and

Adults.

166
Neffinger, J. W., Schiff, J. W., Jr Abrams, S.

1984. The wilderness challenge: An

adjunctive treatment. In B. Pepper and

H. Ryglewicz (Eds.) Advances in

Treating the Young Chronic Patient.

New Directions for Mental Health

Services, no. 21, March, San Francisco:

Jossey-Bass, pp. 99-102. 99-102.

Ohio Department of Mental Health and

Retardation. 1979. Camping program

therapy for youth. Mental Horizons. 7.

Orbach, C. E. 1966. Camping experiences for

psychiatric patients from a day care

hospital. Journal of Psychiatric Nursing,

4: 57 l-585.

Perlman, J. 1947. Camps for maladjusted

children. The Nervous Child, 6: 155-

160.

Peterson, B. F., & Acuff, S. H. 1955. An

experiment in living. Mental Hospital,

6: 8-9.

Polenz, D., & Rubitz, F. 1977. Staff

perceptions of the effect of therapeutic

camping upon psychiatric patients’ affect.

Therapeutic Recreation Journal, 22: 70-

73.

Ramsey, G. V. 1969. Sociotherapeutic

camping for the mentally ill. In A.J.

Bindman & A.D. Siegel (Eds.)

Perspectives in Community Mental

Health, Chicago: Aldine, pp 324-334.

Rawson, H. E. 1973. Residential short-term

camping for children with behavior

problems: A behavior modification

approach. Child Welfare, 52(8): 51 l520.

Redl, F. 1974. Psychopathologic risks of

camp life. In T. P. Lowry (Ed.) Camping

therapy: Its uses in psychiatry and

rehabilitation. Illinois: Charles C.

Thomas, pp. 76-88.

Reed, P., & Haas, G. 1987. Preliminary

results to non-recreational wilderness

telephone survey. Department of

Recreation Resources and Landscape

Architecture, College of Forestry and

use

Natural Resources, Colorado State

University, Ft. Collins, Colorado.

Reitman, E. E. & Pokomy, A. D. 1974.

Camping at a psychiatric day center. In

T. P. Lowry (Ed.). Camping therapy: Its

uses in psychiatry and rehabilitation,

Illinois: Charles C. Thomas, pp. 63-67.

Remar, M. E. & Lowry, T. P. 1974.

Camping therapy in the commonwealth

of Massachusetts. In T.P. Lowry (Ed.)

Camping therapy: Its uses in psychiatry

and rehabilitation, Illinois: Charles C.

Thomas, pp. 13-15.

Rerek, M. D. 1973. Senior citizen camping:

An innovative program in community

psychiatry. Journal of the Bronx State

Hospital, 1: 85-87.

Rickard, H. C., & Dinoff, M. 1967. Behavior

change in a therapeutic summer camp:

A follow-up study. Journal of Genetic

Psychology, 110: 181-183.

Rickard, H. C., Serum, C. S., & Forehand, R.

1975. Problem-solving attitudes of

children in a recreation camo and in a

therapeutic camp.

4(2): 101-107.

Child C&e Quarterly,

Rickard, H. C., Serum, C. S., dz Wilson, W.

197 1. Developing problem solving

attitudes in emotionally disturbed

children. Adolescence, 6: 451-456.

Ritter, D. R., & Mock, T. J. 1980. Carryover

effects of a summer therapeutic daycamp

program on children’s classroom

behavior: A one-year follow-up. Journal

of School Psychology, 18(4): 333-337.

Rosen, H. 1959. Camping for the emotionally

disturbed. Children, 6(3): 86-91.

Ryan, J. L., & Johnson, D. T. 1972.

Therapeutic camping: A comparative

study. Therapeutic Recreation Journal, 6:

178-180.

Shank, J. 1975. Therapeutic recreation

through contrived stress. Therapeutic

Recreation Journal, 9: 21-25.

167
Shea, T. M. 1977. Camping for special

children. St. Louis: The C. V. Mosby

co.

Shearer, R. M. 1975. Camping as a

therapeutic experience for depressed and

schizophrenic patients. Hospital and

Community Psychiatry, 26: 494,497.

Shniderman, C. M.. 1974. Impact of

therapeutic camping. Social Work, 19:

354-357.

Smith, B. K. 1959. Patients go camping in

Texas.

Smith, W. G., & Hart, D: W. 1975.

Community mental health: A noble

failure? Hospital and Community

Psychiatry, 26: 581-583.

Stich, T. F. 1983. Experiential therapy.

Journal of Experiential Education,

Winter: 23-30.

Stich, T. F. & Senior, N. 1984. Adventure

therapy: An innovative treatment for

psychiatric patients. In B. Pepper & H.

Ryglewicz (Eds.) Advances in Treating

the Young Adult Chronic Patient, New

Directions for Mental Health Services, no

21, March, San Francisco: Jossey-Bass,

pp 103-108.

Stimpson, D. V., & Pederson, D. M. 1970.

Effects of a survival training experience

upon evaluation of self and others for

underachieving high school students.

Perceptual and Motor Skills, 31: 337-

338.

Stoudenmire, J., & Comola, J. 1973.

Evaluating Camp Climb-Up: A two week

therapeutic camp. Exceptional Children,

39: 573-5

ENDNOTES

Thomas, J. C. 1981. Treed? Bushed? Stoned?

Implications of cognitive psychology for

wilderness therapy. Presented at the

Second Annual Convention of the

Wilderness Psychology Group, Missoula,

Montana.

Tuttle, L. P., Terry, D., 8z Shinedling, M. M.

1975. Note on increase of social

interaction of mental patients during a

camp trip. Psychological Reports, 36:

77-78.

Turner, A. L. 1976. The therapeutic

nature. Journal of Operational

Psychiatry, 7: 64-74.

value of

Vinton, D. A., Hawkins, D. E., Pantzer, B. D.,

8z Farley, E. M. 1978. Camping and

environmental education for handicapped

children and youth, Wash., D. C.:

Hawkins and Associates, Inc.

Weisman, M. N., Mann, L., & Barker, B. W.

1966. Camping: An approach to releasing

human potential in chronic mental

patients. American Journal of

Psychiatry, 123(2): 166-172.

Whittekin, R. G. 1967. Imaginative themes

enliven day camp. Hospital and

Community Psychiatry, 8: 237-238.

Willman, H. C., & Chun, R. Y. F. 1973.

Homeward Bound: An alternative to the

institutionalization of adjudicated juvenile

offenders. Federal Probation, 37: 52-58.

Winter, L. M., & Winter, W. D. 1966.

Therapeutic camping: An experience in

group-living. Corrective Psychiatry,

449-459.

12:

Winter, L. M., dz Winter, W. D. 1968.

Clinical experiences with therapeutic

camping. Adolescence, 3: 203-216.

1. H ow eve r, oth e r te rm s such as w ild e rness th e rapy, cam p, ch allenges (Banak a and Young 19 85;

Nefinge r and oth e rs 19 84; Th om as 19 81), expe riential th e rapeutic cam ping (Stich 19 83; Stich and

Senior 19 84), socioth e rapeutic cam ping (R am sey 19 69 ), cam ping th e rapy (R e m ar and Low ry 19 74)

and psych iatric cam ping th e rapy (Low ry 19 74) h ave also been used.

2. Pe r d iem in th is study refe rred to th e cost figure

institutional expenditures in a given State by th e num b er

th at State and th en divid ing by 365 (366 for leap years).

168

d e rived from d ivid ing th e total annual

of ave rage daily institutional residents in
TH E ROLE OF W ILDERNESS

IN H UMAN DEVELOPMENT

Daniel R. Williams, Lois M. Haggard, Richard Schreyer*

ABSTRACT

W ild e rness is a place w h e re people m ay

d evelop th eir sense of com petence th rough

m e eting th e ch allenges of nature, but it is also

m uch m ore. Th e w ild e rness is a fundam ental

sym bol of our national h e ritage, our biological

and evolutionary h e ritage as, m em b ers of a

natural ecosystem , and personal id entities th at

m ay be affirm ed by its m e re existence, in

addition to th e ch allenges posed by facing it.

In th is paper, w e ch aracte rize th e h um an

d evelopm ent functions of w ild e rness as th e

result of ind ividuals actively seek ing selfd efinition. Because th e w ild e rness is a rich

and potent source of personal, nationallcultural

and biological id entity inform ation, it plays a

significant and valuable role in self-de finition

on all th ree levels of h um an functioning.

INTRODUCTION

Wilderness is often thought of as a place

where humans can confront nature on its own

terms, as a place where humans might test

themselves, and as a consequence, gain a

greater sense of personal competence, develop

leadership skills in helping others to meet these

challenges, and to the extent that such

activities are carried out in a group context,

develop social interaction abilities. While

these types of human development benefits

have often been attributed to wilderness use,

the focus of this conference is the non-recreational values of wilderness, and our charge to

address human development benefits of

wilderness within a non-recreational context.

We have chosen to address the various

developmental benefits - personal competence,

leadership, and social interaction - under the

broader aegis of self-concept, and the ways in

which self-concept may be linked to wilderness

use, products, and symbols. Opportunities to

express and affirm one’s self-identity through

wilderness related behaviors and symbols may

in the long run facilitate individual growth and

development by giving the person a wider

repertoire of competencies through which to

anchor their day-to-day identity.

Though it is difficult to distinguish

between human development values associated

with the personal use of the wilderness

(recreational, educational, or therapeutic) and

the values of wilderness apart from actual

visitation, we begin with an important

distinction between selfdefInition and selfesteem The human development value of

wilderness has typically been viewed in terms

of narrowly defined benefits, such as enhanced

self-esteem, and self-actualization resulting

from personal contact with the natural

environment, usually in a recreation context.

Therapeutic uses of wilderness (Gibson 1979;

Levitt 1988), and benefits associated with

structured programs designed to specifically

enhance self-awareness and efficacy such as

Outward Bound are examples of this school of

thought.

At present, research has not examined the

role wilderness may play in self-definition as

opposed to self-esteem enhancement. This

restricted perspective is unfortunate in terms of

understanding the value of wilderness for

human development because when people are

given freedom to describe themselves, fewer

than 10 percent of their thoughts actually deal

with self-evaluation (McGuire and PadawerSinger 1978) of the kind that might be

associated with self-esteem Apparently, most

thoughts about the self deal with descriptive

information (what we ate like) as opposed to

evaluative information (how good we are).

Self-definition is one of the most fundamental

* Assistant Professor, D e pt. of R ecreation and Leisure; D octoral Candidate, D e pt. of Psych ology, Univ. of

Utah ; and Professor, D e pt. of Forest Resources, Utah State Unive rsity. W e w ould like to th ank Irw in Altm an,

Alan Ew e rt, and Carol W e rne r for th eir h e lpful com m ents on an earlier draft.

169
requirements for human development. It has

implications for our interactions with other

people, our success in adapting to the rigorous

demands of modem society, as well as our

sense of competence and worth. One of the

first distinctions an infant learns to make is the

distinction between “me” and “not me,” and

the process develops and continues throughout

one’s entire life-span.

Selfdefinition can take the form of

clarification we seek for our own sake, when

we are uncertain of who we are or what values

we stand for. Self-definition can also take the

form of defining, or interpreting ourselves to

others, so that the people in our social

environment have a clearer understanding of

who we are. Both forms of self-definition

require constant maintenance; affirming our

identity is as important to growth and

development as is enhancing our feelings of

self-worth. We continuously strive to

understand ourselves better, as well as to

insure that those around us are interpreting our

actions and words in ways that are consonant

with our preferred identity. We derive selfdefinition in almost every activity we perform,

every symbol of ourselves we present to the

world, and a signilicant proportion of our

private thoughts.

Wilderness environments serve identity

functions through their ability to provide

information and meaning to individuals about

how they are situated with respect to other

individuals, cultures, and species. The notion

that physical objects and environments provide

for self-definition is not new (Proshansky and

others 1983). Knopf (1987; 1983) has made

the same point with specific reference to the

role of nature in self-identity. In the first half

of the twentieth century, the sociologist George

Herbert Mead (1938) suggested that people,

animals, objects and environments can make us

“self-conscious,” or aware of who we are as

individuals, and thus develop our sense of self

or personality. More recent examples of

physical environments providing selfdefinitional functions include Rivlin’s (1982)

evidence of this phenomenon on the level of

an urban neighborhood, Appleyard’s (1979)

vivid example of a “city-wide” identity

threatened by the “Manhattanization of San

Francisco,” and Nash’s (1969) discussion of the

significance of the wilderness and frontier to

the development of American cultural identity.

Wilderness environments function to

provide individuals with a sense of who they

are through their use as symbols. In terms of

self-definition, the wilderness acts as the

physical object or environment that represents

abstract human values, beliefs, and

characteristics. During wilderness recreation,

the opportunities for self-definition are virtually

limitless. There are mountains to be climbed,

rivers to be forded, cliffs over which to rappel,

and climatic conditions to be dealt with, all of

which provide the individual with a wealth of

information about him or herself as being more

or less rugged, self-sufficient, adventurous,

hardy, appreciative of scenic beauty, and a

virtually unlimited list of other attributes. The

more pervasive use of the wilderness for selfdefinition, however, does not arise from

interaction with the wilderness directly, but

through its use as a symbol of personal and

cultural values. The actual number of people

who make pilgrimages to wilderness areas is

minute compared to the number that use the

wilderness for its symbolic content.

In the following sections, we examine

the nature of the self-concept. We will then

review some of the literature that exemplifies

the use of the wilderness in the cultivation of

our personal, cultural, and biological identities,

and finally address some issues and

implications pertinent to the assessment of

wilderness values within the Resource Planning

Act framework.

On the Nature of Self-Concept

Implicit in our formulation of the selfconcept is that the self is multidimensional.

Much of the clinical psychology and recreation

and leisure literature focuses on a single

dimension of the self, that of self-esteem, or

the evaluative (good-bad) dimension. Current

trends in the field of psychology view the self

in terms of cognitive processes and information

structures. From the cognitive perspective, the

preoccupation with a unidimensional selfesteem seems overly simplistic. One of the

founding fathers of psychology, William James

(1890) wrote of the self as being comprised of

a multiplicity of selves. Similarly, the current

170
orientation toward the self positions it as a rich

and highly-organized network of beliefs about

ourselves, including who we are, our likes and

dislikes, and our goals and aspirations. We

view the self as a complex phenomenon

composed of self-esteem (the affective or

evaluative dimension); an infinite number of

self-images (such as self-as-mother, self-as-anhonest-person, and self-as-a-naturalist); and, in

a broader context, aspects of the self that

motivate us to activelv seek out and create

opportunities for self-affirmation. It is

primarily through the self-images that a linkage

is provided between the mere existence of a

wilderness, its symbolic utility as a

representation of an abstract!human value, and

the benefits derived in terms of self-definition.

What the wilderness means to us -- symbolizes

to us -- becomes incorporated into our selfdefinition through changes in relevant selfcognitions, or, self-beliefs.

The motivational aspect of selfaffirmation is particularly important to

understanding the non-recreational value of

wilderness for human development. We act in

ways that organize and activate beliefs about

ourselves, that allow specific self-definitions to

be derived from our everyday environment.

Csikszentmihalyi and Rochberg-Halton (1981)

observed that the motivational aspects of the

self allow us to “cultivate” identities, as

opposed to having our social and physical

environments impose a given identity upon us.

Researchers such as Swarm (1983) and

Schlenker (1984) have proposed several

specific mechanisms people use to maintain

their self-images, such as displays of signs and

symbols of the self, selection of tasks or

hobbies that permit identities to be built and

maintained, and interpersonal behaviors

designed to elicit appropriate feedback from

others. An individual who is motivated to

maintain wilderness related self-images will do

so by infusing their everyday environment with

reminders of desired self-images using

mechanisms such those Schlenker and Swarm

propose. These mechanisms may serve as a

framework for research on the motivational

aspects of the self in wilderness and other

environments.

ln summary, the self is a complex entity,

consisting of an affect or esteem dimension, as

well as practically infinite numbers of

cognitive dimensions or self-images, many of

which arc human values, beliefs, and

characteristics which may be symbolized by

wilderness environments. There is also a

motivational, or dynamic aspect of the self that

actively searches for, and creates opportunities

for self-definition. In the course of human

development, we strive to understand ourselves,

as well as to be understood more clearly by

others. This motivational aspect is significant

because it makes human development less of a

wtion to one’s environment and more of an

active transaction with one’s social and

physical environments,

BENEFITS TO SELF-CONCEPT

THROUGH WILDERNESS *

What does this self-definition process

mean for wilderness as a contributor to human

development? What evidence exists that

wilderness, either through its recreational use

or mere preservation, provides these selfconcept benefits? As we noted earlier, human

growth and development occurs through

cultivation of beliefs about one’s self, and

wilderness may be a potent facilitator of

human development through this enhancement

of our understanding of ourselves, and through

an enhanced ability to communicate who we

are to others.

Specifically, the self-defining potential of

wilderness contributes to self-identity in terms

of three types of beliefs. First, individual

identities may be tied to wilderness such that

the use of wilderness (actual, vicarious, or

symbolic) affii important beliefs about the

personal self or who we are as an individual.

We may exhibit certain behaviors related to

wilderness that give us feedback that we ate

adventurous, self-reliant, independent,

physically fit, and mote generally competent.

Secondly, wilderness and national parks can, as

many have suggested (Nash 1982; Wellman

1987). give us feedback of our cultural self or

who we ate as Americans. In Nash’s view

wilderness is an important symbol of American

society. Historically, wilderness has served to

give Americans a cultural identity, when we

have felt inferior to our European cousins who

had a much richer cultural heritage. Finally,

and more speculative and philosophical, is that

wilderness provides identity feedback in terms

171
of our biolow self or who we are as human

beings. By this we are suggesting that

wilderness may enhance a person’s “human”

development by allowing that person an

opportunity to discover or affm who he/she is

as a member of the human species among the

many natural creatures in the world. Each of

these three aspects of wilderness and selfconcept has been examined to some extent in

the wilderness benefits literature. The personal

level has been the focus of the empirical

literature9 the cultural level, the province of

historical ‘and policy analysis, and the

biological the exclusive estate of philosophy.

Personal Identity

A potential de;elopmental benefit of wilderness-is its capacity ti help people to achieve

self-definition through affirmation of specific

identities. The major line of research is

exemplified by a number of scientific and

conceptual works (Ewert 1986; 1983; Gibson

1979; Kaplan and Talbot 1983) addressing

participants of formal or structured wilderness

challenge/adventure programs such as Outward

Bound and their potential to improve selfconcept (Burton 1981; Gibson 1979). This

topic is examined under the aegis of

“therapeutic” values within these proceedings

(Levitt 1988). In addition, some research has

examined developmental benefits of general

wilderness participants (Young and Crandall

1984; 1986). In either case the results

examining the potential to enhance self-concept

are far from conclusive. Burton concludes

from a review of 72 studies that structured

programs do appear to report positive effects

on self-concepts, but adds that the quality of

these studies is poor and there is little tangible

evidence that these perceptions have a lasting

impact. Schreyer and others (1987) discussed

a number of conceptual issues that plague this

area of research. The most important issues

are the degree to which these self-concept

improvements are maintained over the long

term, especially in the absence of recurring

participation, and the extent to which benefits

can be attributed to wilderness per se or the

social interaction and formal process

established by the program.

At present, little research has examined

the role wilderness may play in self-definition

as opposed to self-enhancement. Furthermore,

understanding the value of wilderness in terms

of self-definition is particularly relevant to the

non-recreational use of wilderness. The nonrecreational value of wilderness to self-identity

may be observed in terms of the self-defining

mechanism of displays of signs and symbols.

Knopf (1987; 1983) has written extensively of

the rich symbolic value of nature and its

capacity to affirm self-identity. Thus, the

symbolic values inherent in wilderness can

become a major source of self-concept expression. Identification with wilderness through

symbols such as those embodied in books, art

work, membership in wilderness organizations,

and perhaps most immediate and prominent,

the types of clothing a person wears, make

convenient vehicles for self-concept expression

and affirmation.

Finally, persons may seek to structure the

nature of social interaction to affirm

conceptions of self. One of the ways this may

be accomplished is through the evolution and

adoption of norms of wilderness and recreation

behavior in general. An entire lifestyle may be

created around the norms and values expressed

in the appreciation and manifestation of

appropriate behavior in wilderness and about

wilderness. This process of learning and

displayin behavioral norms has been

suggestJto account for the process

developing specialized styles of participation

(Bryan 1977) and may account for the

diffusion of formerly exclusive and elite

activities to a wider constituency (West 1984).

Continued interaction with others who share

similar values and norms is the essence of

what these authors are describing to account

for participation dynamics and the increased

sense of commitment and competency that

goes with acquiring and displaying the norms

and symbols of their sport and the

development of social reference groups. From

the perspective of self-definition, a social

reference group functions to affirm an

individuals self-definition by reflecting back to

the that person the images he or she desires.

Such reference group interaction, which

probably occurs more frequently in everyday

encounters than specifically within wilderness,

becomes a powerful means of self-concept

definition.

172
National/Cultural Identity

While the beliefs about one’s self as an

individual are defined largely through

wilderness use and symbolic products linked to

its use, beliefs about the cultural self are

affirmed independent of use, through mere

existence and preservation of wilderness.

Appleyard (1979) observed that the

environment in general functions to symbolize

individual and group identity and suggested

that environmental conflict is as much over

symbols as substance. As he puts it,

“environmental decisions are not only valuebased, but identity-based.” Wilderness and

natural landscapes seem to be a particularly

rich and powerful source of national identity

symbols (Nash 198z). Indeed, the American

character of freedom and democracy is

symbolized by wilderness. As Driver and

others (1987) observed, wilderness has always

been a refuge of the religiously and politically

oppressed from the Puritans and Mormon

pioneers to the modem political “freedom

fighters” in Central America and Afghanistan.

Wilderness has played a prominent

political role in this country because of the

way the American character is linked to it. As

a result, protecting wilderness serves to protect

America’s identity. As Nash (1969) observed,

“Our national ego is fed by both preserving

and conquering wilderness.” Nineteenth

century Americans, out of a desire for cultural

independence to accompany their new-found

political independence, sought to identify

something that was different and impressive

about their country: “sustenance for their

national ego” (Nash 1969). That something

was the untamed wilderness and abundant

natural resources. America lacked the refined

cultural symbols of art, architecture, literature,

history, and traditions that Europe possessed.

In addition, the commercial exploitation of

Niagara Falls, which drew. the greatest number

of European visitors in the mid-1800’s, was a

national embarrassment. The development of

our national ego demanded that America take

steps to preserve the “crown jewels” (as they

were described) in the form of national parks

and wilderness. Natural wonders as cultural

symbols coupled with the emergence of the

romantic movement in literature and religion,

endowed wilderness with spiritual and esthetic

uniqueness. Setting aside as national parks the

scenic wonders of the Western wilderness was

an opportunity demonstrate our cultural identity

to our European cousins.

At the same time, the vast and available

natural resources to be developed were also a

source of national identity (Wellman 1987). In

contrast to Europe, the abundance of natural

resources and the absence of a rigid social

class structure made America a place where

anyone could achieve identity and status,

primarily through settlement and development

of the wilderness (Wellman 1987).

Biological Identity

As with the cultural self, the biological self

is not dependent on the use of wilderness, but

its preservation. Wilderness serves to affirm

beliefs about who we are as homo saniens.

We value wilderness in part because it reminds

us of our biological and earthly heritage.

“Wilderness . . . may be the best place to learn

that we are members, not masters of the life

community sharing a common habitat”

(Rolston 1986b). Paraphrasing Rolston

(1986a), Driver and others (1987) suggest that

preserving wilderness is a “gesture of planetary

modesty” and an expression of humility, gratitude, and admiration for powers greater than

our own. Wilderness symbolizes biological

roots easily forgotten in the “high-tech”

modem world. At this level the bio/ecological

heritage we encounter in wilderness places our

personal and social identity in the perspective

of humanness. Expressions such as “becoming

one with nature” reflect a kind of unity, a

belief about how our self is connected to the

whole of the earth or even the universe.

Rolston (1986b) describes this as natural

history benefits. “Humans are relics of . . .

[the natural] . . . world, and that world, as a

tangible relic in our midst, contributes to our

sense of duration, antiquity, and identity.” He

goes on to say “Without an appreciation of this

evolutionary past, Americans cannot understand

who and where they are.” There is ample

evidence that the human species can adapt to a

life largely without direct contact with nature

(Knopf 1987; 1983), but at what cost?

Without wilderness and the natural processes

embodied within, we lose part of our self;

173
personally, culturally, and perhaps most

significantly, biologically.

ASSESSMENT OF THE VALUE OF

WILDERNESS

FOR HUMAN GROWTH AND

DEVELOPMENT

Issues in Measurement

In order to address the notion of value,

some semantic clarification is in order. Value

is presumed to be the worth, or willingness to

pay or make resource trade-offs in order to

obtain a benefit (Brown ‘1984). However, this

presumes the benefit is in fact known and

demonstrated to be a consequence of the

behavior undertaken (e.g., wilderness

participation or preservation). As we have

seen the human development benefits of

wilderness are not easily molded into

cause/effect analysis especially benefits

associated with cultural and biological heritage.

To the extent to which we believe that

developmental benefits are indeed forthcoming

from wilderness, there is also the question of

the magnitude of the benefits produced, in

relation to their value (Driver and Peterson

1987). Are two units of self competence

enhancement worth twice as much as one unit?

Is such a relationship in magnitude difference

even recognized and/or responded to in a

market?

Little research has been carried out in

assessing the value of wilderness benefits to

individuals. The only indirect indicator would

be the total expenditure by persons who buy

wilderness programs of one sort or another. It

would be difficult to use expenditures of

persons visiting wilderness in general, as it is

not known what proportion of those

expenditures could be attributed to selfconcept. Values for cultural and biological

self-identification are even more difficult to

tap. Sampson (1988), in his discussion of

individualism, addresses the efficacy of

individualism for fostering success in the

global economy. Sampson argues that “when a

person’s sense of self is defined through

relationships and connections,” rather than the

self-centered individualism which dominates

American culture, core cultural values of

freedom, responsibility, and achievement are

more likely to be affirmed. One could make

the case that a country with a strong national

identity, built on a connected self-identity (like

that which may exist in Japan) is better

equipped to compete in the global market

economy; thus suggesting national economic

benefits of national identity. While little

research has attempted to provide a value for

such benefits, Walsh and others (1984) have

done research to assess option, existence and

bequest values for wilderness. They suggest,

as we have suggested, that such values

nationwide far exceed the recreation

participation values of wilderness.

The nature of these benefits may be

measured in a variety of ways (Schreyer and

Driver 1988). They may be identified through

expert panels, using “Delphi” techniques or

people may be questioned concerning their

own perceptions of benefits. However, such

subjective inquiry may not be reliable, as

people may not be aware of or able to

articulate such benefits. As a result, indirect

methods such as obtaining self-reports of

reasons for engaging in wilderness activities

have been used to imply the nature of

wilderness benefits. This is where the largest

body of empirical research currently exists.

Another approach has been to administer

standard psychological scales related to various

dimensions of self-esteem, usually in a pre-test

post-test format, and to assess the nature of

differences resulting from participation, if any

(Schreyer and Driver 1988; Schreyer and

others 1987; Burton 1981; and Ewert 1983

discuss the limitations of these approaches).

Finally, more objective behavioral data may be

used. Benefits such as economic productivity

as it is related to national identity are difficult

link to wilderness and require time consuming

and expensive studies, which is why little of

this type of research has been carried out

(Driver in press).

Indicators of Value

The extent of use of wilderness for selfconcept benefits is hard to assess as no

comprehensive effort at evaluation has ever

been attempted. For structured programs, a

considerable body of research exists, but there

is little sense of how much benefit is provided,

and to whom, let alone establishing the value

174
of that benefit. A potential indirect indicator is

the number of programs that exist. Driver and

others (1987) cite Burton’s research (1981) as

estimating over 300 such programs nationwide.

As mentioned above, unstructured

visitation has been studied indirectly through

time in studies of visitors’ motivations for

participation in wilderness. These studies

examine visitors’ reasons for wilderness

visitation. Inferences may be made to the

benefits which such persons are seeking as a

part of that visitation. While this is not

conclusive evidence, it provides information

concerning visitors’ self-pemeptions of potential

benefits. A variety of such studies use

standardized measures of such potential

benefits, such as Driver’s (1977) Recreation

Experience Preference scales. This allows for

comparison across studies. However, such

research usually involves one-time studies of

visitors. It is therefore impossible to ascertain

whether such benefits are linked to ongoing

participation, or to the single episodic event in

which they were measured.

Interestingly, as noted above, many of

these studies do not show a self-concept

benefit as being a particularly major reason for

participation. Across 12 studies, Driver and

Brown (1987) found that experience

preferences related to personal efficacy

(introspection, achievement, and teach/lead

others) ranked in the middle to lower half in

importance among 16 scales compared. Of

course, this could be due to the fact that the

benefits to self-concept derive from being able

to engage in such behaviors and to act out

one’s sense of self, whether the pursuit is

conscious or not. Other reasons, such as the

desire to experience nature, may thus be the

rationale for acting out the nature of self in

that particular place (Schreyer and others

1985).

Trends in Use

Use of wilderness for self-concept benefits

may be assessed only indirectly through

tracking participation rates for wilderness

activities motivated by such purposes, or by

the increase in attendance at formal programs

such as NOLS or Outward Bound.

Unfortunately, readily accessible data do not

exist concerning such increases through time.

Assessments that such uses am increasing are

more subjective than empirical. Other indirect

indicators exist, such as the increase in formal

wilderness experience courses in colleges and

universities (Greenway 1987). There are also

no agency statistics concerning the magnitude

of such use. However, we have noted an

increasing tendency for Forest Service

personnel with wilderness management

authority to mention that “perhaps something

should be done” to regulate or control the

numbers of wilderness training programs,

which again serves as an indirect indicator of

the fact that such programs are growing in

popularity. The notable lack of trend data in

this area suggests that this is a major future

research need.

DISCUSSION

Environmental/Social Implications

The value of wilderness for providing

opportunities for self-concept maintenance

through participation would be maintained by

the current status quo. It is unclear the extent

to which a growing demand for such types of

opportunities may be frustrated if such

opportunities am not increased. The principal

concerns here surround the tendency for

agencies to seek control over users’ behaviors

for fear of impact to the resource, and whether

growth in wilderness opportunities might be

met with increasing restriction on the part of

administrators.

The capacity to engage in wilderness

activities for reasons of personal competence

and leadership can only be hindered by

regulation. By definition, if such activities

require the opportunity to demonstrate personal

autonomy, then actions which curtail that

autonomy will reduce the opportunity. The

key issue concerns the value of the benefit to

the individual. Any use causes impact, and

human uses of wilderness are tolerated, even at

the cost of that impact. There comes a point

when the impact may be too great and human

use must be curtailed. However, there are

currently few empirical indicators of how much

use is too much use in wilderness. Such

indicators must be developed through

175
subjective human judgment using systematic

processes such as the “Limits of Acceptable

Change” method (Stankey and others 1985).

When the resource is used for its symbolic

content, even subtle changes in the resource, or

the way it is perceived by other members of

society, can have an impact on its utility for

self-definition. The “Limits of Acceptable

Change” method of public involvement, then,

involves not only the limits of acceptable

change in the resource, but the limits of

acceptable change in one’s self-definition, as

well.

Another related concern is the extent to

which wilderness is unique in providing these

opportunities. Wilderness areas are seen as

particularly fruitful areas for testing the self

because of the prevalence of natural challenges.

-Of course, any reasonably natural setting,

regardless of its wilderness status, may provide

similar benefits. Further, nonnatural settings

may also provide many opportunities for selftesting, such as playing the stock market,

climbing up the World Trade Center, or

driving on L.A. freeways. Because of human

diversity, however, not all individuals are able

to employ nonnatural settings as effectively as

natural settings for competence testing. The

unique symbolic content of the wilderness

provides more compelling avenues for selfdefinition for these individuals. Furthermore,

and perhaps more importantly, natural settings

have associated with them a set of meanings

that nonnatural settings lack. By altering the

resource, we alter its symbolic value, and we

alter the identities of those people who find

self-definition through wilderness symbols.

Through changing the wilderness, we risk

changing the character of the American people.

The more abstract components of

wilderness benefits, national identity and

biological identity, have more indirect

relationships to the wilderness resource.

National identity is probably not as greatly

impacted by current wilderness management

policies, nor by the total size of the National

Wilderness Preservation System as it is by

American attitudes reflected in wilderness

policy. It is likely that if the amount of

acreage under wilderness designation were to

be halved or doubled, it would not impact the

identification value of wilderness. The fact

that wilderness exists and is protected provides

for national identification independent of size

(within limits, of course -- 10 acres of

wilderness in the nation would not provide

much benefit in this regard).

The biological identification component

is another matter. Such identification is

instrumentally related to the maintenance of

viable ecosystems reflecting natural processes,

gene pools, and biological diversity. These are

all related directly to the size of the wilderness

resource and to its management. The greater

the size of the wilderness system, the greater

the likelihood that such processes are fostered

and such identification values are enhanced.

There are also substantial indirect values

related to size, as the symbolic significance of

such biological identification is tied directly to

the moderation of human activity. Such

moderation represents a commitment to

partnership in the global ecosystem rather than

dominance. Moderation of human activity

means making tradeoffs between such acts and

commodity production. As we have no sense

of the magnitude of such values, we have little

to gauge the nature of such trade-offs, which is

why they are invariably made in the political

sector. It is also likely that the public has

little direct knowledge of the nature of such

tradeoffs, though it may value considerably the

identification with nature and the environment.

At any rate, such benefits are enhanced by

greater wilderness designation; they also point

to the need for greater articulation of such

values.

Issues, Concerns and Recommendations

One of the greatest concerns related to

this topic is the recognition of the value of

wilderness for non-commodity uses. Few

would argue that such outputs are likely to be

derived from wilderness. However, that

recognition has virtually no functional impact

on decision making. The underlying

implication is similar for most wilderness

values -- they are important because people are

willing to act politically to set wilderness

aside, but compared to the demonstrated importance of commodity values of resources in the

market sector, they do not appear to have

tangible significance. The ultimate challenge

of documenting these types of benefits is to

176
achieve a substantive change in the premises of

resource management. This change will

ultimately require the recognition that nonmarket, non-quantifiable values are substantive

and important, and in fact should affect

decisions about national resource policy. This

does not reduce the significance of commodity

resource production, so much as it underscores

the need to broaden the perspective of resource

management.

We appear to be at a point in our

resource history in which such changes are

becoming increasingly apparent, but in which

we have neither the moral/philosophical nor the

administrative rhetoric to accommodate the

significance of such phenomena. If anything,

such forces translated into the political arena

have been denigrated by association with cult,

fringe or extremist groups/philosophies.

However, the legislation of the past twenty

years exists as a testament to the power of

those philosophies in affecting resource policy.

Our point is underscored by the

guidelines for the desired structure of the

papers for this conference. We were not only

to cover the state of knowledge related to a

given resource use (meaning an attempt to

hammer such benefits into the commodity

model -- X units of self-concept output per Y

units of management input), but we were to

break that down by standard Federal Regions,

as if the sum total of human knowledge about

personal growth and development could be

reduced to regional units. The

inappropriateness of this mandate is an

indicator of the internal conflict which is

occurring among resource professionals who

have been trained to apply “rational” (i.e.,

objective unit production criteria) resource

management techniques that are poorly suited

to understanding complex processes such

personal growth and self-definition.

These concerns are structural, in that

they involve an organizational approach to

resource management which has been

institutionalized through 90 years of

bureaucratic activity. People are trained in

schools that emphasize these more “objective”

(and, by implication, fair) means of allocating

resources. But as with any bureaucracy, such

dogmas are inherently resistant to change, and

to the development of society. We assume

that through the adoption of ever more

sophisticated research and management

techniques (computer models and the like) we

can accommodate these changes. However, we

want to do that within the same quantitative,

objective models of management, losing sight

of the fact that the system is changing

aualitatively. These changes cannot be broken

down by Region, or by unit of commodity

production.

This is where the real challenge for the

Forest Service lies in the future. It is not a

matter of fitting changing societal values into

formal planning frameworks. Rather, it is a

matter of fitting agency decision making into

the changing values of society. Of course, this

wilI not occur without considerable resistance.

We all want the world to remain the same

forever, even though we know that, just as we

grow, so does the world around us. That

friction is inevitable, but so are the processes

of change, and we must seek to understand

how as professionals dedicated to the public

welfare we can adapt and accommodate to that

change.

One of the key concerns with respect to

the topic of this paper is the need to be able to

articulate more clearly and cogently the nature

of the values of wilderness for human

development. One reason why it is difficult to

break that down by standard Region or by unit

of output is the total lack of any systematic

data on this type of resource use. There is a

tremendous need to articulate the relevance of

these types of benefits to our culture, as weIl

as to generate reliable, useful, and systematic

data on the actual benefits provided by

wilderness for these purposes. We operate in a

situation of primarily anecdotal information.

Perhaps more significantly, there is little if any

information that is framed in ways in which

persons who are committed to resource

decisions based solely on commodity

production unit outcomes can understand. This

is where future research and writing on the

topic is most needed, as will be addressed in

the following section.

Research Needs

We have an intuitive belief that human

development values are a major benefit derived

177
from wilderness. Unfortunately, there is little

information resulting from empirical studies,

beyond structured training programs, which can

document such a benefit. This underlies the

content of our recommendations for future

research:

(1) There needs to be a data base on the

nature and extent of formal training programs

in wilderness, oriented toward human

development and identity needs, as well as

information tracking the changes in the number

and nature of those programs through time;

(2) There need to be investigations of the

benefits of long term paiticipation in

wilderness in general, independent of formal

training courses. What is it that people derive,

how does this compare to other aspects of life,

and how valuable is it to people? This

underscores the need for more longitudinal

studies, as opposed to single, time-dependent

studies;

(3) There needs to be a more systematic

consideration of the benefits of such

participation. We have a vast body of indirect

and/or anecdotal knowledge on the set of

benefits for the use of wilderness. However,

we have not been able effectively to capture

the relative value of such benefits in systematic

ways. In the past this has been tied to

economic value, which has resulted in attempts

to transfer these values into a standard metric.

However, we have yet to develop means which

adequately express these values in non-market

terms which have substantive impact on policy

making.

(4) There needs to be increasing scrutiny

of the agencies that provide for public benefits

through the management of these resources.

There is a growing gap between the premises

upon which people are trained in resource

disciplines, based primarily upon models

developed in another era, and contemporary

societal needs to which those persons have to

respond. We need to explore models of

resource management and decision making that

can accommodate the non-commodity, nonmarket values of resource uses. This

adjustment will occur whether policymakers

want to see it happen or not. The question is

merely how much pain is encountered by the

agency, and how much public strife is

necessary to make the transition.

(5) Finally, there needs to be an

increased emphasis on the psychological

processes involved in achieving wilderness

benefits, in addition to the nature of the

benefits, themselves. It is possible that an

understanding of the process through which

natural environments are transformed into

“improved conditions” or human development

benefits will improve our ability to understand

the & of natural environments for human

development. Once it is understood how

people use the wilderness to affirm their

personal, national, and biological identities, we

will be closer to understanding how certain

management actions may enhance or degrade

peoples’ ability to derive identity benefits from

the land.

REFERENCES

Appleyard, D. 1979. The environment as a

social symbol: Within a theory of

environmental action and perception.

American Planning Association Journal.

45143-153.

Brown, T.C. 1984. The concept of value in

resource allocation. Land Economics.

60(3):231-246.

Bryan, H. 1977. Leisure value systems and

recreational specialization: The case of

trout fishermen.. Journal of Leisure

Research. 9: 174-187.

Burton, L.M. 1981. A critical analysis and

review of the research on Outward

Bound and related programs. New

Brunswick, NJ: Rutgers Univ. PhD

dissertation.

Csikszentmihalyi, M. and E. Rochberg-Halton.

198 1. The meaning of things: Domestic

symbols and the self. New York:

Cambridge University Press.

Driver, B.L. 1977. Item pool for scales

J

designed to quantify the psychological

outcomes desired and expected from

recreation participation. USDA Forest

178
Service Rocky Mountain Forest and

Range Expt. Stn. Ft. Collins,CO. 31 p.

Driver, B.L. In press. Benefits of river and

trail recreation: The limited state of

knowledge and why it is limited. In S.

Seguire, ed., Proceedings, First

International Congress on Trail and River

Recreation. Vancouver, B.C.: Outdoor

Recr. Council of British Columbia.

Driver, B.L. and P.J. Brown, 1987. Probable

personal benefits of outdoor recreation.

In President’s Commission on Americans

Outdoors -- A Literature Review.

Washington, D.C.: U.S.’ Govt. Printing

Off., pp. 63-70.

Driver, B.L. and G. Peterson., 1987. Benefits

of outdoor recreation --An integrating

overview. In President’s Commission on

Americans Outdoors -- A Literature

Review. Washington, D.C.: U.S. Govt.

Printing off., pp. l-10.

Driver, B.L., R. Nash and G.E. Haas. 1987.

Wilderness benefits: A state-ofknowledge review. In R. Lucas ed.,

Proceedings--National Wilderness

Research Conference: Issues, State-ofknowledge, Future Directions. USDA

Forest Service, Gen. Tech. Report INT220, pp. 294-319. Ogden, UT:

Intermountain Research Station.

Ewert, A. 1983. Outdoor adventure and selfconcept: A research analysis. Eugene,

OR: University of Oregon, College of

Human Development and Performance.

Ewert, A. 1986. Values, benefits, and

consequences in outdoor adventure

recreation. In A Literature Review

Appendix to the Report to the President’s

Commission on Americans Outdoors.

Washington, DC: US Government

Printing Office.

Gibson, P.M. 1979. Therapeutic aspects of

wilderness programs: A comprehensive

literature review. Therapeutic Recreation

Journal. 13(2):21-33.

Greenway, R. 1987. A psychology of

wilderness “program” at Sonoma State

Univ. Paper presented at the Fourth

World Wilderness Congress, Estes Park,

co.

James, W. 1890. Principles of Psychology.

New York: Hall.

Kaplan, S. and J.F. Talbot. 1983.

Psychological benefits of a wilderness

experience. In I. Altman & J. Wohlwill,

eds., Behavior and the Natural

Environment, pp. 163-203. New York:

Plenum Press.

Knopf, R.C. 1983. Recreational needs and

behavior in natural settings. In. I.

Altman 8z J. Wohlwill, eds., Behavior

and the Natural Environment, pp. 205

240. New York: Plenum Press.

Knopf, R.C. 1987. Human behavior,

cognition, and affect in the natural

environment. In D. Stokols and I.

Altman, eds., Handbook of

Environmental Psychology. New York:

Wiley.

Levitt, Lynn 1989. Therapeutic value of

wilderness (this volume).

McGuire, W.J. and A. Padawer-Singer. 1978.

Trait salience in the spontaneous selfconcept. Journal of Personality and

Social Psychology. 33:743-754.

Mead G.H. (1938) The Philosophy of the Act.

Chicago: Univ. of Chicago Press.

Nash, R. 1969. The cultural significance of

the American wilderness. In M.

McCloskey & J. Gilligan, eds.,

Wilderness and the Quality of Life, pp.

66-73. San Francisco: Sierra Club.

Nash R. 1982. Wilderness and the American

Mind. Third Edition. New Haven, CT:

Yale University Press.

Proshansky, H.M. 1978. The city as selfidentity. Environment and Behavior.

10:147-189.

Rivlin, L.G. 1982. Group membership and

place meanings in an urban

179
neighborhood. Journal of Social Issues.

38:75-93.

Rolston, H., III. 1986a. Philosophy Gone

Wild. Buffalo, NY: Prometheus Books.

Rolston, H., III. 1986b. Beyond recreational

value: The great outdoors preservationrelated and environmental benefits. In A

Literature Review Appendix to the

Report to the President’s Commission on

Americans Outdoors. Washington, DC:

US Government Printing Office.

Sampson, E.E. 1988. The debate on

individualism. American Psychologist.

43:15-22.

Schlenker, B. ib84. Identities, identification

and relationships. In V. Derlaga, ed.,

Communication, Intimacy and Close

Relationships. New York: Academic

Press.

Schreyer, R. and B.L. Driver. 1988. The

benefits of outdoor recreation

participation, Paper presented at

Benchmark 1988: A National Outdoor

Recreation and Wilderness Forum.

Tampa, FL.

Schreyer, R., D.R. Williams and L.M.

Haggard. 1987. Episodic vs. continued

wilderness participation - Implications for

self concept enhancement. Paper

presented at the 4th World Wilderness

Conference, Estes Park, CO.

Schreyer, R., R. Knopf and D.R. Williams,

1985. Reconceptualizing the

motive/environment link in recreation

choice behavior. In G.H. Stankey and

S.F. McCool, eds., Proceedings -

Symposium on Recreation Choice

Behavior. USDA Forest Service Genl.

Tech, Rpt. INT-184. Ogden, Utah:

F;8mtn. For. and Range Expt. Stn., pp.

- .

Stankey, G.H., D. Cole., R. Lucas, M. Peterson

and S. Frissell. 1985. The Limits of

Acceptable Change (LAC) System for

Wilderness Planning. Ogden, Utah:

USDA Forest Service Intermm For. and

Range Expt. Sm. Gem. Tech. Rpt. INT176. 37 p.

Swarm, W. 1983. Self-verification: Bringing

social reality into harmony with the self.

In J. Suls and A. Greenwald, eds.,

Psychological Perspectives on the Self.

$:2. Hillsdale, N.J.: Erlbaum, pp.

- .

Walsh, R.G., J.B. Loomis and R.A. Gillam.

1984. Valuing option, existence and

bequest demands for wilderness. Land

Economics, 60(l): 14-29.

Wellman, J.D. 1987. Wildland Recreation

Policy. New York: Wiley.

West, P.C. 1984. Status differences and

interpersonal influence in the adoption

outdoor recreation activities. Journal of

Leisure Research. 16:350-354.

Young, R. and R. Crandall. 1984. Wilderness

use and self-actualization. Journal of

Leisure Research. 16:149-160.

Young, R. and R. Crandall. 1986. Selfactualization and wilderness use: A

panel study. In R. Lucas eds.,

Proceedings--National Wilderness

Research Conference: Current Research

USDA Forest Service, Gen. Tech. Report

INT-212, pp. 385-388. Ogden, UT:

Intermountain Research Station.

180
TH E NON-TRADITIONAL PUBLIC VALUATION (OPTION,

BEQUEST, EXISTENCE) OF W ILDERNESS

Richard G. Walsh and John B. Loomis*

ABSTRACT

In th e past, w e tended to view w ild e rness

as prim arily a recreation resource. M ore

recently, the contingent valuation m eth od h as

been applied to th e problem of estim ating th e

d em ands for w ild e rness preservation by th e

general public. Th e results provide an

em pirical test and confirm ation of th e

h ypoth esis th at the gene ral population is

w illing to pay for th e preservation of uniq ue

natural environm ents, and th at th eir option,

existence, and bequest values sh ould be added

to th e consum e r surplus of recreation use to

d ete rm ine th e total econom ic value of

w ild e rness to society. It is proposed th at th e

current b enefit estim ating proce dures of

Fede ral agencies be enlarged to include th ese

non- traditional public values.

INTRODUCTION

The purpose of the Wilderness Act (P.L.

88-577 Section 2 a) is to secure “for the

American people of present and future

generations the benefits of an enduring

resource of wilderness.” ln the past, two

myths evolved relating to the act: first, these

American people are solely recreation&s who

have the time and money to visit such areas;

and second, the values or benefits derived from

wilderness are solely recreation-related. Haas,

and others (1986) discuss reasons for the

myths as follows. A vast majority of the

popular literature focused on the recreation use

and enjoyment of wilderness. Federal land

management agencies included wilderness

administration within their recreation programs.

Moreover, these agencies reported wilderness

use as recreation visits or visitor-days. Finally,

resource economists attempted to develop a

dollar value for wilderness by studying the

travel patterns or expressed willingness to pay

of wilderness recreationists. ’

While this paper also is concerned with

the benefits of wilderness recreation, it differs

from earlier work by introducing nontraditional public values to the analysis of

wilderness designation. This is consistent with

guidelines of the Federal government which

recommend that agencies establish wilderness

programs consistent with the benefits to users

and the general public. To Max Peterson,

former Chief of the Forest Service, this means

that “first, we must establish the true value . . .

to the American people, and then recognize

that value in our planning and our politics.”

Wilderness managers and the public need to

have an understanding and appreciation of the

specific values for protecting wilderness.

Haas, and others (1986) summarize the

results of a household survey designed to show

how values of people who visit wilderness

areas differ from people who do not. The

question asked was:

Many reasons have been proposed for

valuing existing or potential

wilderness areas. For each of the

possible reasons below, check the box

which best describes how important it

is to you.

The 13 reasons are based on provisions of the

Wilderness Act. Each is rated on a 5point

scale of preference ranging from not important

to extremely important.

Table 1 compares the mean scores of

recreation users and the general public of

nonusers. A t-test of mean scores for each of

the 13 values indicates that the two groups are

not significantly different. The three most

important motivations relate to biophysical

* Professor of Agricultural and Resource Econom ics, Colorado State Unive rsity, Fort Collins, CO;

and Assistant Professor of Environm ental Stud ies, Unive rsity of California, D avis, CA.

181
resources--protecting water quality, wildlife

habitat, and air quality. The next two are the

option values of possible future recreation use

by current and future generations. Providing

current recreation opportunities is next, ranking

fii and sixth (including ties) in importance to

recreation users and the general public,

respectively. Providing income from the

tourist industries is of least importance to both

groups, although still considered moderately

important. The provision of recreation

opportunities is most relevant to the two myths

previously mentioned. While providing

recreation opportunities is important, it is not

the most important reason users and the

general public value wilderness.

TOWARD A DiFINITION OF TOTAL

ECONOMIC VALUE

As early as the mid-1960s, economists

began to recognize that on-site recreation

values did not capture the full social benefits

of protecting a natural area from irreversible

loss. Weisbrod (1964) first discussed what has

become known as option value: that people

were likely to be willing to pay some premium

over and above their expected recreation

benefits to maintain the option of possibly

visiting a natural area in the future. Arrow

and Fisher (1974) demonstrated that there

exists a quasi-option value to society for

maintaining future options when considering an

irreversible investment that would foreclose

forever preservation of a natural area. Krutilla

(1967) and Krutilla and Fisher (1985)

discussed the likelihood that many persons who

may never visit or intend to visit a unique

natural area might still gain satisfaction from

knowing that the area exists and is protected.

Krutilla (1967) suggested that the current

generation might be willing to pay something

to bequest a unique natural area to future

generations. As these concepts have evolved

in the economics literature, they are now

commonly though not universally referred to as

option, existence, and bequest values.

Table 1. -- Comparison of the mean scores of wilderness users and the general public when asked

to rate the importance of wilderness areas

General

t-test

Reasons for Wilderness Users’

public

non-users (Ztail)

Protecting water quality

:*; :*;

0.60

Protecting wildlife habitat

4:1

0.18

Protecting air quality 4:2 0.51

Knowing that future generations

will have wilderness areas 4.1 3.9 0.46

Knowing that in the future you

have the option to go there if you choose

Providing recreation opportunities :*:

4:o

Se:

0.19

0.23

Providing scenic beauty 3:8 0.19

Preserving unique plant and

animal ecosystems and genetic strains 3.9 3.6 0.06

Conserving natural areas for

educational and scientific study

Knowing that wilderness areas exist ;:: :::

0.01

0.73

Providing spiritual inspiration

::: ;:;

0.81

Providing income for tourist industry 0.41

l On-site wilderness users were those people who indicated that they had visited an existing or

potential wilderness area in Colorado (N=l56). Nonusers had never visited such areas (N=58).

Mean scores were based on a five-point scale: (1) not important, (2) somewhat important, (3)

moderately important, (4) very important, and (5) extremely important.

182
This and related literature has evolved into

a concept of the total contribution of

wilderness resources to national economic

development. Included in the total value

concept are the: (1) direct consumption

benefits of on-site recreation; and (2) indirect

consumption of (a) the flow of information

about these activities and resources in books,

periodicals, and videos consumed as indoor

recreation, and (b) preservation benefits,2 i.e.,

willingness of citizens to pay for the

knowledge that wilderness resources are

protected (option, existence, and bequest

values). This knowledge may be experiencebased or education-based. Individuals either

have visited wilderness (direct use) or they

have learned about it (indirect use). Based on

this knowledge, individuals report a willingness

to pay an amount roughly equal to the dollar

value of that satisfaction rather than forego it.

AN EM PIRICAL STUDY OF PUBLIC

VALUES

Th e preservation value of wilderness has

been measured by the contingent valuation

method (CVM) approved by federal agencies

(U.S. Water Resources Council 1979, 1983;

U.S. Department of Interior 1986) as providing

an acceptable procedure for estimating the

economic value of recreational and

environmental resources. Interagency

committees have established procedures for

surveying a sample of the affected population

about maximum willingness to pay contingent

on changes in the availability of an

environmental amenity such as wilderness.

Willingness-to-pay equations have been

developed using dollar values derived from the

CVM that allow decision-makers to determine

how benefits change with a small increase or

decrease in society’s stock of wilderness

protection. These incremental and site-specific

issues are the ones that are relevant to

management. While society as a whole values

wilderness (according to information from

opinion surveys), the US. Congress does not

debate whether to have wilderness or not, but

rather how many areas and where. The same

is true of State managers of natural areas. The

issue is not whether to have any natural areas

or not, but what are the benefits of more or

less. To make these types of resource

allocation decisions, the manager needs to

know how social benefits change when the

level of a resource is increased or decreased

from the current amount,

The question of how much wilderness to

protect in a single Western State is illustrated

in figure 1. It shows the marginal benefits of

wilderness in the State of Colorado compared

to the marginal costs of wilderness protection

including management and opportunity costs.

The marginal curves are simply the changes in

total value resulting from changes in the

amount of wilderness protected. They may be

more familiar as demand and supply curves,

with maximum benefits occurring where the

two intersect, i.e., where supply equals

demand.

Figure 1 shows the present value of

marginal benefits and costs. Present value is

estimated for a planning period of 50 years and

a discount rate of 7-3/8 percent to conform

with Federal procedures. The present value of

the sum of consumer surplus from recreation

use and public preservation benefits was

compared to the present value of the sum of

management and opportunity costs of

wilderness designation. For example, the

expected marginal benefit from adding 1

million acres to the present 2.6 million acres

was estimated as $148 per acre, compared with

marginal costs of $36 per acre. Without

preservation values, marginal benefit from

adding 1 million acres would be only $78 per

acre, but still more than twice the marginal

costs. Designating additional wilderness would

be warranted on grounds of economic benefits

to the people until marginal benefits with

preservation values equal marginal costs of

$100 per acre at approximately 9.6 million

acres. These results are relatively insensitive

to changes in the variables because of the

extreme flatness of marginal cost over most of

its range. Thus, even without preservation

values, marginal benefits equal marginal costs

of $67 per acre at nearly 9.5 million acres.

Even if opportunity costs should double, the

optimal amount of wilderness would equal 9.2

million acres with preservation values vs. 7.0

million acres without. The latter is nearly

three times the 2.6 million acres currently

designated. This relative insensitivity to

changes in the variables may be unique to the

study area, which has little or no commercial

183
Figure 1. Present Value of Marginal Benefits and Costs per Acre of Wilderness Designation, With

and Without Nontraditional Values

MC’

A

II ,

4 5 6 I 8 9 10

Million Acres of Colorado Wilderness

MB1 - Marginal benefits wihut prrsewation vahes.

MEt2 - Marginal values with preservation values.

MC’- Marginal costs.

i Costs included the net benefits of timber harvest, range improvements, mineral, energ , and

motorized recreation foregone less the costs of managing for these uses, as reported in LARE II

k

U.S.D.A., 19781. Also included were wilderness management costs of $1.75 per acre in 1977

ased on Guldin [1980] and a survey of Colorado wilderness areas. Costs were updated to 1980,

based on a 36.6 percent increase in the producer price index.

Table 2. -- Total Annual Consumer Surplus from Recreation Use and Preservation Value to

Colorado Households from Increments in Wilderness Designation, Colorado, 1980

Value Categories

Recreation Use Value

Per Visitor-Day

Total, Million

$l#

Preservation Value to ’

Colorado Residents

Per Household

Total, Million :z2

%?$%old &4

Total, Million

Existence Value

Per Household

Total, Million Z7

Bequest Value

Per Household

Total, Million Z’

Total Annudpye$yn Use * Va ue and ese at o

Va$e to Colorado Households, Million $28.5

%:Fl

$;$y $;$p

18.75

20.6 %O %3.

Z4

9.23

Z:? 10.2

?Z6 F ii::”

6.75 9.10 11.46

7.4 10.0 12.5

$41.6 $60.9 $93.2

184
timber value in most roadless areas and

excludes a number of sites with known mineral

or energy development potential.

These results, reported in Walsh and

others (1984), am based on a sample of 218

resident households that participated in a mail

survey during the summer of 1980.

Respondents were asked to make a series of

four budget allocation decisions based on total

annual benefits received from increments in

wilderness designation, i.e., to report the

maximum amount of money they would be

willing to pay annually for protection of

current wilderness, and for hypothetical

increases in wilderness depicted on four maps.

Once this budget allocation question was

completed, respondents.were asked to allocate

the highest amount reported among the four

categories of value: recreation use, option,

existence, and bequest demands.

Table 2 shows that the non-traditional

public (option, bequest, existence) values of

wilderness increased from about $14 per

household for 1.2 million acres to $19 for 2.6

million acres, $25 for 5 million acres and $32

for 10 million acres. These public preservation

values represent a substantial part of the total

value of wilderness, with onsite use value of

$14 per recreation visitor day.

The total value estimates omit

nonresidents of the State who are expected to

have some positive values for Colorado

wilderness designation, although much less

than instate residents. It is indicative that

residents of the State reported they were

willing to pay an additional $21 per household

annually to protect 125 million acres of

wilderness in other States. Extrapolating this

sample value to the general population of the

United States results in a willingness-to-pay

estimate of approximately $1.50 per household

annually for protection of 10 million acres of

wilderness in Colorado. Given the large

number of households involved, even this low

value would result in substantial aggregate

nonresident values for wilderness.

Attempts to measure the proportion of the

population that consumes preservation values

of natural areas find a substantial majority of

citizens throughout the United States report

they do so. This is the case for unique

wilderness resources such as the Grand Canyon

(Cummings and others 1986) and Colorado

wilderness areas (Walsh and others 1984). For

less unique wilderness resources with regional

rather than national significance, the proportion

of the population that holds preservation values

appears to be a declining function of the

distance that they live from the resource

(Barrick 1986; Pope and Jones 1987;

Sutherland and Walsh 1985). In addition,

there are important differences among the three

types of preservation value. Option value

appears to be positively related to income and

the probability of direct use of recreation

resources. It is negatively related to the

availability of substitutes. Indications are that

existence value is related to altruistic

motivations of individuals to preserve natural

scenery and ecosystems. Also, it is related to

the knowledge gained from direct recreation

use. Studies have shown that bequest values

are higher for retired persons who, motivated

by benevolence, receive satisfaction from the

interpersonal transfer of natural areas to future

generations. Apparently, all income groups

value existence and bequest demands

approximately equally.

VALIDATION OF PUBLIC VALUES

The values reported in the initial study

should be considered a first approximation

subject to improvement with further research.

No approach can measure the actual benefits

associated with environmental quality. AI1

estimates are limited by assumptions and

judgments affecting questionnaire design and

data analysis. However, the reasonableness of

the public value obtained in the initial study

has been tested by replication. In 1983, 198

households representing a subsample of the

population of the State were interviewed in

their homes. The study design followed

Randall and others (1981) in most respects,

particularly the introduction of possible

regional substitution among wilderness areas

and between wilderness and other

environmental resources. Group t-tests showed

no significant difference at the 0.05 level

between the average public values reported for

designation of 10 million acres of wilderness

in the two studies. This suggests that the

method used in the initial study produced

185
results consistent with those of more advanced

study design.

The Colorado studies also have been

replicated in the adjacent Rocky Mountain

States of Utah and Wyoming, and in the

Eastern State of Virginia. Pope and Jones

(1987) applied the CVM in a telephone survey

of 280 resident households in Utah during the

fall of 1986. The research method followed

the initial Colorado study in most respects.

Respondents were asked to make a series of

four budget allocation decisions based on total

annual benefits received from increments in

wilderness designation. Table 3 summarizes

the preliminary results’!of the study, where the

total values include both consumer surplus of

recreation use and non-traditional value

(option, bequestrexistence) of Utah

households. These results are comparable to

total values per household reported for

Colorado (bottom line of Table 2), adjusted for

33 percent inflation and dividing by 1.1 million

households in the State. For example, with an

increase in wilderness to 2.7 million acres, the

willingness to pay per million acres would be

$19.53 per household in Utah compared to

$18.84 in Colorado. Clearly, the value of

wilderness to people living in Utah is not

significantly different.

Barrick (1986) applied the CVM in mail

surveys of on-site use values and nontraditional valuation (option, bequest, existence)

for the Washakie Wilderness Area adjacent to

Yellowstone National Park in Wyoming. He

also sampled the population of the United

States with mail surveys of urban residents in

four cities and surrounding rural areas: Salt

Lake City, Portland, Nashville, and Orlando.

The cities are located 300 miles, 600 miles,

1,300 miles, and 1,900 miles, respectively,

from the study site. He reported average

annual non-traditional public values (option,

bequest, existence) of $46 for onsite users

compared to $9.70 for the urban residents and

$8.40 for the rural residents of the four cities.

Although public values tended to decline with

distance, the mean values reported in the four

cities were not significantly different. He

concluded that the relevant population when

estimating the benefits of wilderness

designation is the entire United States.4

Prince (1988) applied the CVM in a mail

survey of onsite users of Ramseys Draft

Wilderness Area in George Washington

National Forest, Virginia. It is reported to be

the nearest wilderness area to Washington,

D.C. Preliminary results indicate that

consumer surplus of recreation users averaged

$12 per day and that their willingness to pay

for non-traditional values (option, bequest,

existence) was equivalent to about the same

amount. Although no information was

obtained on the non-traditional values of the

general population of nonusers, these findings

suggest that consumer surplus estimates of

direct use value understate the total value of

users by half.

In a closely related study, Walsh, and

others (1985) measured the non-traditional

valuation (option, bequest, existence) of wild

and scenic river protection in the State of

Colorado. Most of the study rivers are located

in existing or potential wilderness areas. A

representative sample of 214 resident

households participated in a mail survey in the

spring of 1983. Sample size was satisfactory

based on recommendations of the United States

Water Resources Council (1983) for recreation

and environmental quality studies. Response

rate was 51 percent to three mailings. The

characteristics of the sample were very similar

to the population of the State, closely

approximating income level and income

distribution, age of household head, household

size, occupations and education. A random

subsample of 10 percent of the nonrespondents were contacted by phone. A

substantial majority favored river protection

and were willing to pay for it. Thus, nonresponse cannot be equated to lack of interest

or value from river protection.

Figure 2 shows that for the first river,

total household willingness to pay with nontraditional valuation (option, bequest, existence)

is high because of scarcity value. With further

increases in the number of rivers protected, the

willingness to pay for each additional river

decreases. As demand for river protection is

fully satisfied, marginal benefits fall to zero at

15 rivers. Statewide, the Cache la Poudre is

the most valuable river (designated in 1986),

followed by the Elk, Colorado, Gunnison,

Green, Yampa, etc., none of which have been

designated. Without

186
Table 3. -- Total Annual Willingness to Pay for Wilderness Protection in Utah, 1986

Percent of the State

Variables 5% 10% 15% 30%

Acres of wilderness (million) 2.7 5.4 8.1 16.2

Willingness to pay

per household (dollars) $53 $64 $75 $92

Aggregate annual value

(million dollars)’ $26.7 $32.5 $38.0 $46.7

l With 506,000 households

Figure 2. Annual Benefits per Household for Protection of Wild and Scenic Rivers, With and

Without Non-traditional Values

16

E Demand Curve or

h4arninal Benefit Function

ti = 13 - 0.88 (Q)

Number of Rivers Protected (Q)

187
information on non-traditional values, the

demand for designation appears to be about

one-fifth as much as with them (Figure 2). In

the future, these rivers may be restudied for

possible designation. Krutilla and Fisher

(1985) have shown that future benefits from

protection are expected to rise compared to

benefits from alternative uses. This is due to

the fixed supply of natural rivers and the effect

of technological change which increases

productivity and introduces substitutes for

alternative uses.

Unfortunately, it is not possible to

compare the CVM estimates of non-traditional

public benefits to the travel cost method

(TCM) or other behavior-based measures of

value. Howevercthe CVM estimates of the

dollar value of public benefits can be compared

to psychological preferences using standard

procedures. In the 1983 replication in

Colorado, Thurston’s method of paired

comparison is applied to half of the sample,

with wilderness protection paired against each

of six other environmental programs, and

respondents indicate which they prefer to see

improved. The fractionization method is

applied to the remaining sample, with each

respondent assigning 100 points to the most

important program, and indicating the relative

importance of other programs by assigning

values from 0 to 100. The statistical

correlation of the rank order of these

psychological preference measures to dollar

values is a highly significant 0.88. While there

remains some difference between the

psychological and economic measures of the

importance of wilderness protection programs,

there is a high degree of similarity.

Apparently, the CVM can provide a close

approximation of the social welfare effect of

wilderness programs.

There are two additional points that should

be made about this comparison. First, there

may be psychological values associated with

wilderness protection that exceed the economic

measure of values reported here. The demand

for protection, and therefore the economic

benefit estimate, is constrained by limited

consumer income, availability of leisure time,

and other variables. However, psychological

values may not be so constrained, i.e.,

satisfaction from preservation may be worth

more than people are willing and able to pay.

Second, there may be long-run ecological

values of protecting wilderness resources that

am not included here. It is difficult for

biologists to predict what these might be, let

alone measure and incorporate them into

psychological and economic value. For this

reason, it seems that economic values represent

a conservative estimate of the total benefits to

society from protecting wilderness resources.

The inability of economics to place a dollar

value on unknown ecological values should be

recognized in making decisions about

wilderness protection programs.

CONCLUSIONS

The study results provide an essential test

and confirmation of the hypothesis that the

general population may be willing to pay for

the preservation of unique natural environments

and that their option, existence, and bequest

values should be added to the consumer

surplus of recreation use to determine the total

economic value of wilderness to society. The

values reported should be considered first

approximations subject to improvement with

further research. No approach provides the

actual benefits associated with wilderness

protection. All empirical methods provide

estimates limited by their respective

assumptions. It is important to acknowledge

that judgment affects the CVM approach in the

questionnaire design, data analysis, and in the

specification of a decision model. The

findings of these studies could, however, be of

use in the preparation of indicators of social

net present value of alternative forest plans as

mandated by the RPA program review,

particularly if the results were replicated in

larger, more detailed surveys using a sample

more geographically representative of the U.S.

population. The total value concept represents

an important direction for future research.

During the 1985 and 1990 RPA program

reviews, it was not possible to measure all of

the benefits and costs of alternative forest

plans, in particular the nontraditional (option,

existence, bequest) values. Therefore, it was

assumed that the partial measures would be

satisfactory indicators of economic efficiency

as long as the benefits and costs not included

are either constant over alternative plans or

vary in direct proportion to the values that are

188
measured. This assumption can be tested, in

part, with the information available for nontraditional values. With respect to recreation

use and environmental protection programs, the

assumption appears to be reasonably accurate:

Information is not available on the proportion

of net economic benefits omitted from RPA

estimates of the value of other output such as

grazing and timber. However, it is likely to be

much less than for wilderness owing to the

nature of the supply of timber and livestock

forage. Thus, it seems that the RPA

assumption of constant or proportional

omission of benefits and costs would not be

correct. )

The results of the Rocky Mountain studies

are sufficient to demonstrate that measuring the

non-traditional valuation (option, bequest,

existence) of increments in wilderness

designation would represent a substantial

contribution to the present value of benefits

estimated by the travel cost method. In the

absence of information on the willingness to

pay for preservation values, insufficient public

land would be allocated to wilderness

protection in States where future water,

mineral, energy, and other development may

irreversibly degrade natural environments.

Thus, it is proposed that the benefit estimation

procedures of Federal agencies be enlarged to

consider preservation values. There is a need

for State-specific studies in each of the Forest

Regions. In the interim, estimates could be

prepared for each State based on the Colorado

equation. The value of variables such as acres,

population, income, education, household size,

etc. could be set at the appropriate level for a

sample of States in each Region.

REFERENCES

Arrow, Kenneth, and Fisher, Anthony C.

1974. Environmental preservation,

Uncertainty and irreversibility. Quarterly

Journal of Economics 88312-319.

Barrick, Kenneth A. 1986. Option value in

relation to distance effects and selected

user characteristics for the Washakie

Wilderness, Northeast Wyoming. National

Wilderness Research Conference: Current

Research. General Technical Report INT212, Intermountain Research Station,

Forest Service, U.S. Dept. of Agriculture,

Ogden, Utah. pp. 412-422.

Cicchetti, Charles, and Smith, V. Kerry. 1973.

Congestion, quality deterioration, and

optimal use: wilderness recreation in the

Spanish Peaks Primitive Area. Social

Science Research 2(Mar.):15-31.

Cicchetti, Charles, and Smith, V. Kerry. 1976.

The cost of congestion. Ballinger

Publishing Co., Cambridge, Mass.

Clawson, Marion, and Jack L. Knetsch. 1966.

Economics of outdoor recreation. Johns

Hopkins University Press, Baltimore.

Cummings, Robert G., David S. Brookshire,

and William B. Schulze. 1986. Valuing

public goods: An assessment of the

contingent valuation method. Rowan &

Allenheld, Totowa, New Jersey.

Deyak, Timothy A., and Smith, V. Kerry.

1978. Congestion and participation in

outdoor recreation: a household

production function approach. Journal of

Environmental Economics and

Management 5(Mar.):63-80.

Fisher, Anthony C., and Krutilla, John V.

1972. Determination of optimal capacity

of resource-based recreation facilities.

Natural Resources Journal 12(July):417-44.

Freeman, A. Myrick, III. 1979. The benefits

of environmental improvement. The Johns

Hopkins University Press, Baltimore.

Friedman, Milton. 1962. Capitalism and

freedom. Chicago: University of Chicago

Press, Chicago.

Guldin, Richard. 1980. Wilderness costs in

New England. Journal of Forestry

78(Sept.):548-52.

Haas, Glen E., Hermann, Eric, and Walsh,

Richard G. 1986. Wilderness values.

Natural Areas Journal 6(2):37-43.

Kneese, Allen V., and Brown, F. Lee. 1981.

The Southwest under stress: National

resource development issues in a regional

189
setting. The Johns Hopkins University

Press, Baltimore.

Krutilla, John V. 1967. Conservation

reconsidered. American economic review

57(Sept.):777-86.

Krutilla, John V., and Fisher, Anthony C.

1985. The Economics of Natural Environments. Johns Hopkins University Press,

Baltimore.

Leuschner, William A., Cook, Phillip S.,

Roggenbuck, Joseph W., and Oderwald,

Richard G. 1987. A comparative analysis

for wilderness user’!fee policy. Journal of

leisure research 19(2):101-l 14.

Low, Christophe;‘R. 1979.

for Alaskan wilderness.

Dissertation, University

Angeles.

The option value

Ph.D.

of California, Los

Menz, Frederic C., and Mullen, John K. 1981.

Expected encounters and willingness-topay for outdoor recreation. Land

economics 57(Feb.):33-40.

Milton, William J. 1975. National forest

roadless and undeveloped areas: develop

or preserve. Land economics

Sl(May):139-43.

Outdoor Recreation Resources Review

Commission. 1962. Wilderness and

Recreation: a report on resources, values

and problems, study report 3.

Washington, D.C.: U.S. Government

Printing Office.

Pope, C. Arden III, and Jones, Jeffrey W.

1987. Value of wilderness designation in

Utah. Unpublished paper. Department of

Agricultural Economics, Brigham Young

University, Provo.

Porter, Richard C. 1982. The new approach

to wilderness preservation through benefitcost analysis. Journal of Environmental

Economics and Management 9(Mar.):59-

80.

Prince, Raymond. 1988. Estimating recreation

benefits under congestion, uncertainty, and

disequilibrium. Unpublished paper,

Department of Economics, James Madison

University, Harrisonburg, Va.

Randall, Allan, Hoehn, John P., and Tolley,

George S. 1981. The structure of

contingent markets: some results of a

recent experiment. Paper presented at the

Annual Meeting of the American

Economic Association, Washington, D.C.

December.

Randall, Allan, and Stoll, John. 1983.

Existence value in a total valuation

framework. In Managing Air Quality and

Scenic Resources at National Parks and

Wilderness Areas (R. Rowe and L.

Chestnut, eds.). Westview Press, Boulder,

Cola.

Smith, V. Kerry, and Kopp, Raymond J. 1980.

The spatial limits of the travel cost

recreation demand model. Land

Economics 56(Feb.):60-74.

Sutherland, Ronald J., and Walsh, Richard G.

1985. Effect of distance on the

preservation value of water quality. Land

Economics 61(Aug.):281-91.

Tyre, Gary L. 1975. Average costs of

recreation on national forests in the South.

Journal of Leisure Research 7(2):114-20.

U.S. Department of Agriculture. 1978.

Colorado state supplement to roadless

area. Review and Evaluation (RARE II).

Forest Service, Washington, D.C.

U.S. Department of Agriculture. 1987.

Resource pricing and valuation guidelines

for the 1990 RPA Program. Report to the

Chief’s Technical Coordinating Committee

on Resource Values for the 1990 RPA,

Forest Service, Washington, DC.

U.S. Department of Interior. 1986. Natural

resource damage assessments: final rule.

Federal Register 51(148):27674-27753.

U.S. Water Resources Council. 1979.

Procedures for evaluation of national

economic development (NED) benefits and

costs in water resources planning. Federal

Register 44:242(Dec. 14):950-65.

190
U.S. Water Resources Council. 1983.

Economic and environmental principles

and guidelines for water and related land

resources implementation studies. U.S.

Government Printing Office, Washington,

D.C.

Walsh, Richard G. 1986. Recreation

economic decisions: Comparing benefits

and costs. Venture Publishing, Inc., State

College, Penn.

Walsh, Richard G., and Gilliam, Lynde 0.

1982. Benefits of wilderness expansion

with excess demand for Indian Peaks.

Western Journal of Agricultural Economics

7(July):l-12.

Walsh, Richard G., Loomis, John B., and

Gillman, Richard S. 1984. Valuing

option, existence and bequest demand for

wilderness. Land Economics 60(Febr.):14-

29.

ENDNOTES

Walsh, Richard G., Sanders, Larry D., and

Loomis, John B. 1985. Wild and scenic

river economics: Recreation use and

preservation values. Department of

Agricultural and Natural Resource

Economics, Colorado State University,

Fort Collins.

Weisbrod, Burton. 1964. Collectiveconsumption services of individualconsumption goods. Quarterly Journal of

Economics 78(Aug.):471-7’7.

Wetzstein, Michael E., Green, Richard G., and

Elsner, Gary H. 1982. Estimation of

wilderness use functions for California:

an analysis of covariance approach.

Journal of Leisure Research 14(1):16-26.

1. Seve ral stud ies h ave estim ated aspects of th e dem and for w ild e rness recreation (Leusch ne r and

oth e rs 19 87; Sm ith and Kopp 19 80; W alsh and oth e rs 19 84; W e& stein and oth e rs 19 82),

particularly th e effects of congestion on w illingness to pay (Cicch etti and Sm ith 19 73, 19 76; Deyak

and Sm ith 19 78; Fish e r and Krutilla 19 72; M enz and Mullen 19 81; Prince 19 88; W alsh and

Gilliam 19 82).

2. Th e preservation value h ypoth esis appears to be related to an insigh t by Claw son and Knetsch

(19 66). Th ey suggest th at th e total consum ption of w ild e rness is m ore th an th e on- site recreation

activity. Th e auth ors d efine th e recreation expe rience to include five ph ases: anticipation, travel

to th e site, on- site recreation activity, return travel, and recollection. Th e anticipation ph ase w ould

include th e option value of possible future recreation use. Th e recollection ph ase w ould includ e

both th e existence value of k now ing th at th e resource is protected and th e bequest value of

endow ing future generations w ith th e resource.

3. Th e USDA Forest Se rvice also uses a 4 percent d iscount rate. To conve rt th e 7- 318 pe rcent

d iscount rate to 4 pe rcent, m ultiply present value of b enefits and costs by rough ly 1.5.3.

4. Low (19 79 ) em ployed. th e contribution of tim e, m oney, and services by m em b ers of Alask an

conservation organiz ations in support of th e Alask a Lands Bill to estim ate w illingness to pay for

th e w ild e rness option. M em b ers w e re w illing to pay an ave rage of $218 to $846 pe r year, w ith

th e value of tim e in th e low e r estim ate based on th e w age value of s ervices provided and th e

h igh e r estim ate based on incom e of th e donor. It appears th at m em b ers of special inte rest groups

are w illing to pay substantially m ore for preservation or option d em and for w ild e rness, at least in

support of a cam paign of a few years’ duration, th an th e general public w ould pay annually in th e

long run.

191
5. Non-trad itional values for resident Colorado h ouseh olds range from a h igh of 7.5 pe rcent of

total value for w ild e rness protection to a low of 60 pe rcent for air q uality protection program s.

For m aintenance of standard recreation facilities, non-trad itional values are tw o-th irds of total

value (W alsh 19 86). M oreove r, non-trad itional values do not appear to vary appreciably w ith

recreation output. For exam ple, as th e recreation use value of w ild erness increases, th e

proportion of total value attributed to non- trad itional values does not ch ange significantly.

192
TH E SPIRIT IN TH E W ILDERNESS:

TH E USE AND OPPORTUNITY OF W ILDERNESS

EXPERIENCE FOR

Barbara McDonald, Richard Guldin, G. Richard Wetherhill*

ABSTRAC T

Spiritual grow th as a m otivation for or

spiritual growth has not been advanced in

recreation research, therefore spiritual growth

has not been measured or even adequately

addressed in the literature. Our goal is to

present a rationale for the importance of

wilderness for spiritual values, to present

some of the paradigms from related fields

that might be applied to wilderness settings,

and to suggest further awareness for

additional research in this area.

value of w ild e rness h as not been w id ely

research e d . A parad igm does not currently

exist to exam ine th e appropriateness of an

area for such grow th . W e e k am ine

w ild e rness expe rience in four categories:

sacred places and th ings, cultural h e ritage,

organized groups, and ind ividual expe riences.

Th e value of spiritual grow th is presented in

expand ing sph e res of com m uniry benefits,

ind icating pe rsonal and social value, and

possibly biocentric value. M anagem ent

ch allenges are presente d . W e conclude th at

w h ile spiritual grow th is subjective, th e re are

ind ications th at m anagem ent guid elines could

be developed to enh ance th e opportunity for

spiritual grow th .

INTRODUCTION

Spiritual rowth as a motivation for, or

value or bene!lt of wilderness has been

largely unexplored by researchers, or

recognized through the laws establishing

public outdoor recreation or culturally

significant lands. This dearth of attention

results from a variety of reasons, of which

two seem paramount. First, the connotation

of spiritual growth suggests a religious

association. The United States Constitution

empowers separation of church and state. In

practice this clause discourages government

involvement in promoting religious practices

and use of public resources fo? reli$ous

purposes. Second and more important to

thesis, a concise operational definition of

* Auth ors are respectively Outdoor R e creation Planne r, Institute of Beh avioral Research ,

Unive rsity of Georgia, Ath ens, GA; Assessm ent Coord inator, Resources Program and Assessm ent

Sta#,U.S.DA. Forest Se rvice, W ash ington, D C; and Managem ent Analyst, OfJie of M anagem ent

Planning and Analysis, U.S.DA. Forest Se rvice, W ash ington, D C.

OUT

SPIRITUAL GROW TH

Before discussing the use, capability,

opportunity, and constraints of wilderness for

spiritual reverence and growth, we first define

the concept of spiritual growth for this paper.

Some have suggested that spiritual

growth is the encounter between self and

God. While helping to place the term into a

context of meaning outside the day-today

experiences of normal consciousness, this

definition seems to require some agreement

on the idea of God. Rather than move into a

discussion of religious definitions and

meanings, it may be more helpful to deiine

spiritual broadly, and to allow each reader to

further interpret the implications according to

their own religious beliefs. This approach

has its shortcomings, but will facilitate a

discussion of wilderness-based spiritual

opportunities without becoming mired in a

discussion of wilderness-based spiritual

opportunities without becoming mired in a

discussion of religious definitions and

meanings. Only very general definitions of

“spirit” and “spiritual” are given in

dictionaries, however. Spiritual is defined as

relating to or consisting of spirit. Spirit is

defined as the moral part of man, which is

193
separated from the body at death. A second,

more useful definition of spirit is: “animating,

fundamental, or vital principle;” and

“religious, mental, or emotional part of man’s

nature” (MacMillan 1979). These definitions

are not operational, and therefore are not

specifically useful to researchers. How might

spiritual be more pragmatically defined?

To early Native Americans, spirituality

was “pervasively present and was in

complex interrelationships with all aspects of

peoples’ life-ways” (Brown 1982).

Traditional Native American Indians live their

religion; religion is part of their lifestyle

(McDonald, Kimla 1987). Borrowing this

concept and extending it outside the Native

American community, a more useful sense of

spirituality may be expressed in the idea of

interrelationships. Taoism, one Chinese

philosophy, is based largely on this concept

of interrelatedness. Central to Taoism is “its

notion of the relativity of all values” (Smith

1958). One definition of spiritual growth,

therefore, may be the development of a

mental or emotional awareness of

fundamental or vital interrelationships,

particularly between a universal force

manifested in human and non-human life

forms. This may occur suddenly (and be

called a spiritual experience) or may develop

over a period of time (and be called spiritual

growth). The sudden awareness experience

may be similar to the mystical experience,

embracing such characteristics as ineffability,

a feeling of knowledge, a short-lived

experience, and a feeling of abeyance (James

1936). Spiritual growth, on the other hand,

occurs over a period of time, but may include

sudden experiences of insight and

understanding. In the wilderness setting,

spirituality may be defined as the sudden or

gradual awareness of interrelationships among

plants, animals, the landscape, and indeed all

naturally- occurring things within a totally

natural environment, one that is

“untrammeled by man.” The wilderness

environment provides unique conditions

which enhance an awareness of

environmental and “self-other”

interrelationships.

In support of a notion of the

similarity between the natural environment

and God, Norton (1987) suggests, “Medieval

theologians who puzzled about how God

could exist eternally and yet be creator of ail

things, concluded that He must have created

Himself. God must be a self-moved mover.

So biology mimics theology. The force of

nature is in this respect Godlike; the earth’s

community of life is a self-moved mover.”

T.H. Watkins (1987) writes, “We humans are

related in life to all the life around us...The

species that produced the typewriter reaches

adulthood through the same process by which

the spider grows, shares in the same

mysterious spark and dance of creation.

Biologist E.O. Wilson has dubbed this

relatedness biophiliq- the brotherhood of life.”

Spirituality is a human concept. The

human species is therefore very much a part

of the concept of spirituality. It has been

suggested that spiritual growth should not be

described in a personal or social context, but

that spiritual growth is something welI

beyond healthy personal growth. While that

may be true, it seems more useful to describe

the wilderness experience as primarily a

personal discovery, and second, a discovery

of relationships. The deeper meanings and

interpretations are a third part of this

experience, but these meanings must be left

to individual interpretation. Wilderness

spirituality may be defined as the sudden or

gradual awareness of self-other

interrelationships. “Self” may be personal or

it may represent the human species, and

“other” may be the sacred, or God, or other

systems that are “not-self.” It is this “notself” that some would define as God,

necessarily having as a characteristic a

universal energy of life. It is here that

personal beliefs about God shape one’s

definition of spiritual. Buckminster Fuller,

for example, defined God (for himself) as a

verb, not a noun. It is the interaction of

“self’ and “other” within the wilderness

context that defines (solely on a personal

level) the true meaning of wilderness

spirituality.

This interaction and awareness impact

individuals to the degree that their view of

their “life-world” is changed, reflecting the

new awareness we labeled “spiritual growth”.

Spiritual growth, by definition, requires a

change in awareness, which is rarely planned

or calculated. Often it is only noticed after

194
the fact, and in fact, may never be recognized

as such. Further, people may have a spiritual

experience but find it difficult to verbalize

what they have felt. Consequently, even if

measurable, the occurrences of spiritual

growth in or because of wilderness

environments are not easily discernable.

Thus, it remains largely a speculative and

philosophical venture to discuss the spiritual

uses of wilderness.

ADM INISTRATIVE GUIDELINES

The United States Code does not

widely recognize the benefitiof spiritual

experience or growth on wilderness lands, or

on any public lands. The code identifies the

need for special management on public lands

to protect, among other values, “historic,

cultural, or scenic values” (43U.S.C.1702).

The National Historic Preservation Act

(16U.S.C.470) mentions specifically the

enrichment and maintenance of “cultural,

aesthetic, and inspirational benefits,” and the

Act establishing the Hells Canyon National

Recreation Area adds the caveat,“...and other

values contributing to the public benefits,”

The Forest Service Manual, section

2321, states, “The qualities of wilderness and

wild areas are expansive solitude and

unspoiled natural environment. These large

areas in the national forest invite adventure,

provide a refuge from civilization, give

spiritual comfort, and preserve the flora and

fauna for inspiration, enjoyment, and

scientific study.”

Specific documentation in the U.S.

Code not withstanding, much of the activity

surrounding the protection and preservation of

wild lands has had its foundation in the

spiritual and inspirational value afforded by

those lands. In A Sand County Almanac,

Leopold (1949) recommends the preservation

of wilderness: “To the laborer in the sweat of

his labor, the raw stuff on his anvil is an

adversary to be conquered. So was

wilderness an adversary to the pioneer. But

to the laborer in repose, able for a moment to

cast a philosophical eye on his world, that

same raw stuff is something to be loved and

cherished, because it gives definition and

meaning to his life. This is a plea for the

preservation of some tag-ends of

wilderness...”

During Congressional hearings on the

establishment of the National Wilderness

Preservation System, much evidence for the

spiritual value of wilderness was documented.

Mrs. William F. Unsoeld testified, “The value

to our nation of these expansive solitudes is

impossible to measure in concrete terms.

Statistical surveys of man-day usage simply

fail to encompass the re-creative value to

society of the primitive adventure or spiritual

inspiration which natural solitude so

strikingly stimulates” (Hearings before the

Sub-committee on Public Lands, November 6,

1961).

Wilderness areas were set aside by

Indo-Europeans as sacred groves or

sanctuaries, in an implicit recognition of their

intrinsic value (Vest 1987). In his discussion

of wilderness solitude, Vest states, “Religion,

then, is at the core of wilderness solitude.”

Even though the language creating the legal

basis for American wilderness does not

specifically discuss its religious roots, the

cultural and historical background of the

Wilderness Act suggests the important role it

played. “Hence, the act is not a scientific

statement of managerial technology, but a

Congressional mandate reflecting a rich

heritage of value.” (Vest 1987).

MANAGEMENT GUIDELINES

Spiritual or inspirational growth is not

subject to management regulations, although

management philosophy and action may

impact the opportunity of or likelihood for

those types of experiences. The U.S. Code

of Federal Regulations states that in carrying

out such purposes, “National Forest

Wilderness resources shall be managed to

promote, perpetuate, and, where necessary

restore the wilderness character of the land

and its specific values of solitude, physical

and mental challenge, scientific study,

inspiration, and primitive recreation” (36 CFR

1986).

The cultural foundations of society

may influence spiritual experience and growth

through symbolic representation. For

195
example, the sight of a soaring Bald Eagle

may be inspirational in part due to its

association with the United States as a

national symbol, or for others as a triumph

over its endangered status. Managers may

enhance Bald Eagle habitat and protection,

thus enhancing the opportunity for an

inspirational experience. But it remains for

the individual to have that experience,

interpret it, and recognize it as a benefit.

Regulations influencing the visual

integrity of an area, its level of water

pollution, air quality, and other standard

setting regulations may undoubtedly influence

the inspirational characteristics of the area.

But inspiration and spiritual growth lie

beyond the possibility of external or legal

regulation. In the case of wilderness

designation and management, it is perhaps the

recognition and preservation of spiritual

opportunity inherent in different ecosystems

that is important.

Spiritual growth may occur in any

setting, indoors or out, urban, rural, or

primitive. Places of worship seem to mimic

m some ways the characteristics of nature:

large, cathedral-like open spaces with large,

vertical dimensions, and a pleasing design

among other characteristics. It a pears likely

that the more natural, unconfuseB, and

peaceful the setting, the more likely it is that

an individual may reflect on self-other

interrelationships, and be influenced by them.

Wilderness environments may provide

outstanding opportunities for politicians,

planners, and managers to promote the setting

for inspirational outdoor experiences.

INVENTORY OF USE

The literature on inventory of use of

wilderness areas for spiritual purposes is, in

most cases, of the “fugitive” variety. Bits

and pieces may be found among agency files,

research monographs, oral histories, and the

like. In large, specific documentation on

selected sites is known to only a small cadre

of persons whose work is related to the

subject and tied to the location. Some work

does surface, however. A software system

for building and maintaining a data base of

cultural resource survey data specifically

relating to land exchanges is available from

the Chippewa National Forest. The software

is available to all U.S. Forest Service units,

but the total extent of its use cannot be

determined without contacting all of the more

than 900 computer sites in the Forest Service.

Another example from the U.S. Forest

Service is the extensive Inventory of Native

American Religious Use, Practices, Localities

and Resources (Institute of Cooperation

Research, 1981) conducted on the Mt. BakerSnoqualmie National Forest in the state of

Washington. This report divided its

inventory of religious sites on the forest into

five major categories: spirit sites, ceremonial

flora sites, cedar sites, legendary sites and

cemeteries and archaeological sites.

In general, however, a paradigm does

not exist to measure the relative fitness of an

area for spiritual growth. Therefore, it is not

yet possible to make independent estimates of

the “spiritual carrying capacity” of a

particular tract--wilderness or not. The

pragmatic approach is to observe use and use

rates, and from them infer the relative fitness

of an area for spiritual growth.

Use of wilderness for spiritual growth

may be examined in four interrelated levels:

1) Sacred laces and things, 2) Cultural

heritage, 3P Organized group experience, and

4) Individual experiences (Figure 1).

1. Sacred Places and Things

Sacred places and things are sites or

objects that hold special (and usually

religious) significance to individuals, groups,

cultures, or societies. Sacred space is

described by Graber (1976): “Some parts of

space are wholly different from others.

When the sacred reveals itself in space, man

gains a fixed point of orientation in the

chaotic relativity of the profane world.

Sacred space is the site of power, and makes

itself known by the effects of power

repeating themselves there, or by the effects

of power being repeated in ritual by man.”

The United States has recognized some of

these sites through preservation in the

National Park System, National Recreation

Areas, National Monuments, and the National

Wilderness Preservation System, among other

196
types of recognition and preservation

mechanisms. Native American societies,

particularly before the invasion of

Europeans, lived in “geopiety” (Graber 1976),

a life centered around the natural world and

oriented in physical space. These societies

identified physical locations for certain

purposes, many of which served religious or

spiritual functions. Some of these sites are

well known today, such as the Black Hills in

South Dakota or the “sun daggers” and

accompanying petroglyphs that dot the Four

Comers area. A rough rule-of-thumb for

identifying such sites is, “look to the high

places”. Unique physiographic elevations

provided and still provide and Native

Americans with ceremonial places, and as

was the case of the N@ah Waiya mound

along the Natchez Trace in Mississippi, they

sometimes had to construct ‘such high points

themselves.

In a recent article, Kimla McDonald

(1987) described the concept of geopiety:

“Freedom of religion is for some people an

environmental issue. Tribal religions are

land-based theologies, and reli

%

ious activity

in specific places [is] insepara le from

religious practice.”

In 1986, the Lakota (Sioux) Tribe

testified before the U.S. Senate Select

Committee on Indian Affairs to reaffirm the

boundaries of their reservation, and to secure

additional Black Hills lands from the federal

government. The testimony focused on the

Black Hills as sacred in the traditional Lakota

religion. Testimony of Lakota beliefs

interpreted by Charlotte A. Black Elk

included this statement, “Any segment of

creation cannot be isolated from any other,

however there are some parts of creation and

the earth that have a special and unique

character. The Black Hills is always

presented as the part essential for existence of

the Lakota” (Hearing before the Select

Committee on Indian Affairs 1986). Places

may hold special significance for cultures,

even those not ascribing to a land-based

religion. The Great Salt Lake and

surrounding area holds special meaning for

Mormons. Unique natural areas such as

Yosemite and the Grand Canyon offer

inspiration to visitors as well as serving as

focal religious sites for Native Americans

(Page 1982). Sub-cultural significance may

also be assigned to areas such as battlefields,

cemeteries, individual giant sequoia trees, and

to sites like Walden Pond.

Another example of attention to the

sacred is the reverence placed on ecologically

or otherwise significant things, such as

wildlife, plant species, and specific minerals.

Thus, Native Americans ascribed special

significance to totems, often animals such as

the bear. Americans today may feel inspired

by the sight of eagles, dramatic rock

formations, or even less spectacular but still

meaningful naturally occurring life forms or

systems. A new focus by some groups on

crystals ascribes that these minerals possess

certain energies and powers, and some

crystals may have special significance over

others.

2. Cultural and Religious Heritage

Prior to the Industrial Revolution (1810-

1840), American culture was based on the

land and spiritual beliefs were related, in part,

to a dependence on favorable physical

conditions. Until the 1930s and the advent of

mass communications media (radios,

television) the cultural heritage of a society

was still tied closely to geographic places and

experiences. But in recent decades, cultural

heritage was changed for many people,

becoming much less dependent upon places.

Material goods have become much more

prominent in the culture of many people.

Thus, the sacred places or things of an earlier

society may change in their significance to

later societies. An example of this change is

an area currently identified as Indian Springs

State Park in Georgia. The springs were

considered sacred by early Native Americans.

They visited the site annually to collect the

sacred water. When white settlers moved

close to the springs, the Native Americans

moved away. Finally, the springs began to

lose their sacred character for the natives

(personal communication, Lucy Lawliss).

Today, this site is preserved as a culturally

important site in Georgia history, and may

once again take on spiritually significant

characteristics to visitors. A similar pattern

of events can be found relating to the

extraction and use of crystalline quartz in

197
Figure l.---Levels for exam ining th e use of w ilde rness for spiritual grow th

\l WILDERNES S

n A A

cl

O rganized Group 0

Individual *

Sacred Place

Sacred Th ing

Figure 2.--Possible relationsh ip of outdoor oriented groups to th e w ilde rness expe rience.

___-----

_____ __ ___--_--_-- --

-0;s

----------

il e r e s s

- _-____ _____-_ ___ _- ---_----- -

Croup Fxp ULO.

cd o?pllisAuaM/Gro

Non-affiliate s

19 8
West-Central Arkansas by the Caddo tribes,

and by the preservation of numerous burial

mounds in the Southeast U.S.

3. Group Process and Organizations

Figure 2 describes the placement of

these groups in relation to wilderness

experience.

Small group experiences may have a

formal or informal organization. An informal

group may be a family group or a group of

friends. A more formal structure includes

group outings such as church youth groups or

the Boy Scouts. For these more formal

groups, wilderness trips are usually structured

to provide certain benefits. Putward Bound

groups, for example, are structured to provide

the opportunity for tangible and intangible

benefits, such as skill development, outdoor

knowledge, perseverance, and commitment.

The Outward Bound AM& Report (1986),

states: “Outward Bound has since evolved

into a modemday program for self-discovery

and personal development.” The Boy Scouts

program hopes to develop “American citizens

who are physically, mentally, emotionally,

and spiritually fit” (Chaplain’s Information, p.

2). Table 1 gives an example of some wellknown organized outdoor groups, indication

of whether spiritual benefits are implied in

their mission or purpose, and estimates of

1986 membership.

Small group experiences are only one

type of societal structure through which

wilderness may be experienced. Most larger

organizations are composed of smaller state,

regional, and local membership groups,

therefore, small group dynamics and

experiences are important even in national

organizations. As an example, the Sierra

Club offered outdoor adventures to 3,794

individuals in the National Outings program

(Annual Report 1985). It is estimated that

over 400,000 additional individuals

participated within one of the 58 local Sierra

Club chapters across the US. in 1987

(personal communication, Jim Absher,

November 10, 1987). Another example of

how small groups can be structured for

wilderness experiences is described in an

abstract from a paper presented at the 4th

World Wilderness Congress (Brown 1987):

“This paper describes an outdoor retreat

program the author has been conducting since

1976. [The paper] describes methods which

can be employed to develop human resources

such as imagination, intuition, inspiration, and

insight; tap the transformative potential of,

and facilitate the process of self-actualization

on wilderness and back country trips.”

As the size of organized groups gets

larger, it is less likely that the spiritual value

of wilderness for the aggregate group lies

directly in the actual wilderness visit. There

may be many who never set foot in a

wilderness area, yet are committed to the

values of wilderness. The concept of option,

existence, and bequest value are relevant

here. An organizational commitment to

wilderness is similar to a cultural and

community value, since many of the same

values and symbols are shared by the

members individually and the organization

collectively. Graber (1976) states, “The

striking uniformity of wilderness purists’

beliefs, their memberships in conservation

organizations, their sense of identity, and

their degree of emotional commitment

suggest the emergence of something like a

sacred community”. Therefore, the possibility

of spiritual benefit of wilderness may exist

even for those individuals and groups who

infrequently or never experience the

wilderness directly.

4. Individual Experiences

Individual spiritual experiences and

growth may occur during solo wilderness

visits, but solo experiences are probably not

necessary for individual spiritual growth. It

is difficult to identify and measure the

individual spiritual uses of wilderness, due

largely to difficulties with operational

definition of both wilderness and spiritual

value. Attributes closely related to personal

spiritual growth in outdoor recreation have

been explored in some studies. These studies

provide some indication of the relative

importance of the intangible benefits of

outdoor experiences to the individual.

Market Opinion Research (MOR), in a

report prepared for the President’s

Commission on Americans Outdoors

199
Table 1 .--Selected Outdoor/Conservation Groups

Group

Spiritual or related Estimated

benefits recognized 1986-87

in stated purpose? Membership’

’ Bov- -,Scouts Yes 4.754.479

Girl Scouts

Sierra Club

Outward Bound

Camp Fire, Inc.

Audubon Society

Wilderness Society

American Wilderness

AlIiance/Adventure ‘>

Yes

Yes

Yes

Yes

No

Yes’

2,871,OOO

349,797

15,300 (students)

400,ooo

550,ooo

190,ooo

No 4,(-)0

l Compiled from the Endyclooedia ef Organization& 1986-87.

2 land ethic as a philosophy

Table %.--Driver & Brown’s seventeen recreation experience preference domains and scales

1. Enjoy Nature

A. Scenery

B. General Nature Experience

C. Undeveloped Natural Areas

2. Physical Fitness

3. Reduce Tension

A. Tension Release

B. Slow Down Mentally

C. Escape Role Overloads

D. Escape Noise

4. Escape Noise & Crowds

A. Tranquility, Solitude

B. Privacy

C. Escape Crowds

D. Escape Noise

E. Isolation

5. Outdoor Learning

A. General Learning

B . Exploration

C. Learn Geography of Area

D. Learn About Nature

6. Share Similar Values,

A. Be With Friends

B. Be with People Having Similar

Values

7. Independence

A. Independence

B. Autonomy

C. Being in Control

8. Family Kinship

9. Introspection

A. Spiritual

B. Personal Values /

10. Be With Considerate People

11. Achievement/Stimulation

A. Reinforcing Self-Confidence/SelfImage

B. Social Recognition

C. Skill Development

D. Competence Testing

E. Seeking Excitement/Stimulation

F. Self Reliance

12. Physical Rest

13. Teach/Lead Others

A. Teaching/Leading Skills

B. Leading Other

14. Risk Taking

15. Risk Reduction

A. Risk Moderation

B. Risk Prevention

16. Meet New People

A. Meet New People

B. Observe New People

17. Nostalgia

200
classifies American adults as having five

types of motivations for outdoor recreation:

1. fitness

2. social

3. excitement

4. experience self and nature

5. conformist/space cramped

Those individuals with the motivations to

experience self and nature are probably the

most receptive to an experience involving

spiritual growth in the outdoors. The fact

that this dimension even emerged in the

MOR study is an indication of the importance

this type of outdoor experience has as a

motivator for Americans. The MOR report

also depicts a clustering of individuals with

like motivations, Figure 3. ,

“Getaway Actives” consider outdoor

recreation as a chance to be alone and study

nature, but they are not anti-social. They

participate in all kinds of sports, but like

quiet, in-the-woods-and-waters sport. They

are not into competition. Their median age is

35, 50% male, 50% female (Market Opinion

Research 1987). The “getaway actives”

would seem to be the most likely group to

visit wilderness areas for spiritual growth

although probably only a small proportion

would specifically admit to this as a primary

reason for the visit. These data help us to

broadly classify the motivations of possible

wilderness users, and give some indication

that spiritual growth (broadly defined) is a

possible benefit for some users.

The 1982-83 National Recreation Survey

conducted by the National Park Service asked

respondents why they enjoyed their favorite

outdoor activities. Several selected reasons

am closely associated with spiritual growth,

Figure 4.

Sixty-eight percent of the respondents said

that they enjoy nature and the outdoors, and

47% mentioned the quiet and peaceful aspects

of the site as reasons for enjoyment. These

data give some idea of the spiritually related

aspects of outdoor recreation benefits.

However, the data give little explicit evidence

of the presence or magnitude of spiritual

benefit. Driver and Brown (1987). in a paper

prepared for the President’s Commission on

Americans Outdoors, listed 17 recreation

experience preference domains and related

scales, Table 2.

Introspection (#9), as an experience

preference domain, consists of scales

identified as spiritual and personal values.

Baaed on these domains, some indication of a

more recent research concern with inspiration

and personal growth is evident.

In a theoretical model of commitment

and community awareness presented at the

National Recreation and Park Association

Annual Congress (McDonald 1987), spiritual

growth was theorized to be a possible

outcome of committed outdoor/skill challenge

activities (Figure 5).

Spiritual growth was defined by

McDonald as an increasing awareness of

community or of the interrelationships among

increasingly larger systems. If this model

could be successfully applied to wilderness

experience, then spiritual growth as a benefit

could be considered a part of a process that

includes such ex erlences as the sharing of

similar values, pRysical fitness, escaping

noise and crowds, enjoying nature, risk

taking, and achievement, as well as

introspection (these ex riences are all

included in Driver & Frown’s list of

recreation experience preference domains, and

all would likely be part of a wilderness visit).

In fact, it is difficult to describe spiritual

growth as an independent variable. It may be

better viewed as a dependent variable, having

as its independent variables a variety of

conditions or experiences, many of which are

listed in the Driver and Brown Experience

Preference Domains.

In the Driver-Brown paper, 16 of the

17 domains are ranked by mean scores for

eight designated wilderness areas and four

non-designated wilderness areas. The average

ranks for the 16 domains across the 12 areas

am shown in Table 3.

If the community model can be applied

to wilderness experience, and the assumption

of commitment to the experience (repeated

performance) is fulfilled, then five out of the

first eight domains, including the top two,

may be viewed as part of a process leading

201
Figure 3.--Market opinion research classification of motivations of American adults, by percentage

Healthy Sociables

Get Away Actives

33%

Exciting/Competitive

16%

Fitness Driven

10%

Unmotivated

8%

Figure 4.--Selected reasons why favorite outdoor recreation activities were enjoyed.

Percent

80

70

60

50

40

30

20

10

0

-

Enjoy Nature Exercise Escape Social

Reasons For Enjoyment

Peace\Quiet

202
Figure S.--The corn-model (model of community)

u Ch allenge /Expe rience

Com m itm ent

com m unity

Table 3. -- Average Rank of Experience Domains Across 12 Wilderness Areas

Experience Preference Average Rank

Enjoy Nature

Physical Fitness ;?t

Reduce Tensions 2:9

Escape Noise/Crowds

Outdoor Le arning :::

Sharing Similar Values

Independence 2-z

Introspection 6:6

Family Kinship

Considerate People ;:(:

Achievement/Stimulation

Physical Rest :*;

Teach/Lead Others 9:8

Risk Taking 10.5

Risk Reduction 11.8

Meet New People 12.0

203
to greater community awareness and possibly

to spiritual growth.

The implication of the community model

process is that spiritual growth may be a

multi-dimensional construct, and may be

manifested without either anticipation nor

immediate recognition in the course of other

wilderness experiences.

A PARADIGM FOR CONSIDERING

VALUE

The value of spiritual growth seems on

the surface to be primarily a personal value,

but the measurement of this value has not

been widely explored in research

methodology. Arlie Hochschild (1979)

describes what she calls “feeling rules”, social

guidelines that tell us how we think we

should feel. Examples of feeling rules are: a

feeling of reverence in church, sadness .at

funerals, sympathy at misfortune, etc.

Spiritual growth shares some characteristics

with the notion of feeling rules. Outdoor

recreation and wilderness experiences, like

church-going experiences, ma culturally and

socially prime individuals andygroups to feel

spiritually uplifted. Hochschild reports that

feeling rules do not apply to action but rather

are a precursor to action. Spiritual growth on

the other hand, is more likely the result of

some action, whether it be activity or passive

thought. For both concepts (feeling rules and

spiritual growth), “they tend to be latent and

therefore resistant to formal codification”

(Hochschild 1979). It is this characteristic of

latency that obscures the identification and

measurement of the value of spiritual growth.

If spiritual growth can be defined as an

awareness of self-other interrelatedness that

becomes part of the individual’s life-style and

world-view, and the wilderness setting

provides outstanding examples of this

interrelatedness, then the value of spiritual

growth may be viewed within perceptual

zones of community structures and

environments.

Based on the Driver and Brown

Recreation Experience Preference Domains, it

is apparent that some recent efforts have been

made to identify individual

spiritual/introspective benefits, and to assess

their role in recreation experience. However,

the occurrence of spiritual growth may have

social and environmental value well beyond

the individual, as depicted in Figure 6.

Spiritual growth is probably similar to

many other cultural values in that its

manifestation is rooted in cultural norms.

For example, a Christians’s view of spiritual

growth is different in many ways from a

Hindu’s, However, some of the values of

spiritual growth are universal; for example, a

concern for a relationship to the omnipotent,

omnipresent uniting force, whatever it is

perceived to be.

WILDERNESS MANAGEMENT

IMPLICATIONS

Land managing agencies have attempted to

identify the “isolation potential” of an area as

a measure of its fitness for solitude. The

USDA Forest Service listed physical

components of wilderness isolation to assist

in its inventory including, for example, size

of area, topographic screening, vegetative

screening, and size of area, While these are

sincere attempts to inventory areas suitable

for certain types of wilderness experience,

they lack a depth of insight into the solitary

experience, and the historical-cultural

foundations of spiritual and inspirational

wilderness experiences.

An inventory-like attempt to measure

wilderness solitude is incomplete, however.

Spiritual experiences need not be totally

solitary, and spiritual opportunities and

settings are undoubtedly infinite. However,

wilderness managers may consider such

attributes as proximity to wildlife or

opportunities to view and contemplate

wildlife, auditory protection from man-made

(mechanical, etc.) sounds, outstanding

aesthetic opportunities, and either open and

expansive or closed-in and protected natural

areas, high places, water resources, and

environmental quality and integrity.

Wilderness areas provide a unique

environment for contemplation of universal

life exemplified in nature. Wilderness areas’

unique character lies in their unaltered natural

204
Figure 6.--Expanding Spheres of Continuity

state (or one which is perceived by the user

as being unaltered). If an individual were

seeking a spiritual experience, to be truly

alone with God or with nature, that individual

would find few places for refuge. As world

population continues to grow and

metropolitan areas expand along

transportation corridors like the spokes of a

wheel, fewer untouched natural areas will be

available for the spiritual pilgrim seeking true

solitude. For those who come to their

spiritual growth accidentally, the wilderness

setting provides important opportunities for

serendipitous discovery that is conducive to

such growth and awareness. Therefore, a

paradox emerges. If the wilderness system

remains as it is, a growing population that

will be consciously or unconsciously seeking

its spiritual growth in wilderness will visit the

areas mote frequently, creating more crowded

conditions, which will be less conducive to

provide the spiritual benefits all seek. Some

spiritual opportunities will likely be

destroyed. In a spiritual sense for some

cultures and some places this has already

occurred. Perhaps most individuals and

cultures will adapt, and be content with

finding their spiritual attunement with nature

in more developed settings, such as backyards

or metropolitan parks and zoos. It is

inevitable that the population of the United

States will increase, bringing social and

environmental change that will impact the

uses, experiences, and physical integrity of

wilderness areas.

A recent Supreme Court Case (October,

1987) examined the relationship between the

Free Exercise (of religion) Clause of the First

Amendment and the government’s authority to

manage the public lands. At issue was a

tract of land in the Six Rivers National

Forest. Three tribes, the Yurok, Karok, and

Tolowa, claimed that Forest Service plans for

logging would destroy the religious and

spiritual quality of the area, and infringe on

their freedom of religion. The Forest Service

management plan was upheld by the court,

on the grounds that the Free Exercise Clause

guarantees the right of the individual to shape

their own religious conduct free from

coercive government action. and the Forest

Service plan could not be considered coercive

action. What is important to this paper,

however, is the recognition that if public land

management actions may impair, prohibit, or

destroy spiritual experience, the corollary

must also be considered: Management may

also enhance, promote, and preserve such

experience.

The spiritual questions and quest of man

have seemingly changed little over the

centuries. Herman Hesse, writing in 1929,

explored man’s spiritual quest through the

development of Steppenwolf, his main

205
character in the book of the same name.

During a conversation with his new-found

“spiritual guide,” she says to Steppenwolf:

“It has always been so and always

will be. Time and the world,

money and power belong to the

small people and the shallow

people. To the rest, to thereal men

belongs nothing. Nothing but

death...[and] eternity.”

It seems reasonable to assume that the

quest for spiritual understanding and

experience will remain as critical in the

future as it is today a&l has been in the past.

Yet, with fewer places for refuge from

modem “intrusions”, such as technology, man

may fiid that many of his spiritual questions

must remain unanswered.

Spiritual growth is primarily, “in the eye

of the beholder.” Can land managers really

enhance opportunities for spiritual growth? If

spiritual growth is also related to cultural and

religious norms, then broad guidelines may

be established. Native Americans, in their

minimal management of the land and in the

design of their villages, integrated spiritual

beliefs into all aspects of their lifestyle, e.g.

the thousands of Kivas (some in use today)

that may be found in the Southwest. With a

recognition of the possible spiritual value of

wilderness areas and other public lands,

resource management actions may be guided

by social, cultural, and environmental

principles that enhance or promote the

spiritual characteristics of the environment.

Research is needed to explore and

identify the universal characteristics of

environments conducive to spiritual growth

and awareness. Perhaps a research

partnership with departments of philosophy

and religion, landscape. architecture, social

sciences, and natural resource management

could address the question in an

interdisciplinary manner. More specific

attention should be given to the unique and

critical role that wilderness areas play in the

spiritual growth and awareness of Americans.

For only as we begin to understand these

topics better will we understand more fully

ourselves.

REFERENCES

Absher, James. Personal Communication,

November 10, 1987.

Annual Report, National Audubon Society.

1986. New York: National Audubon

Society 32 pp.

Annual Report. 1986. Outward Bound USA.

Greenwich, Connecticut. 17 pp.

Brown, Joseph E. 1982. The Spiritual Legacy

of the American Indian. New York: The

Crossroad Publishing Co., 135 pp.

Brown, Michael. 1987. Wilderness Vision

Quest: Exploring the Frontiers in Human

Resource Development. Paper presented

at the 4th World Wilderness Congress.

Estes Park, Colorado. September 14-18.

Chaplain’s Information, Boy Scouts of

America. Irving, TX.

Driver, B. L. and Perry J. Brown. 1986.

Probable Personal Benefits of Outdoor

Recreation. & President’s Commission on

Americans Outdoors: A Literature

Review. Washington, D.C.

Graber, Linda H. 1976. Wilderness as Sacred

Space. Washington, D.C., The

Association of American Geographers.

Eighth in a Monograph Series. 124 pp.

Hearing Before the Select Committee on Indian

Affairs. 1986. United States Senate.

Ninety-ninth Congress, second session, on

S.1453. July 16. Washington, D.C. p.

204.

Hearings Before the Subcommittee on Public

Lands of the Committee on Insular

Affairs, House of Representatives, 1962.

Eighty-seventh Congress, First Session on

S. 174, H.R. 293, H.R. 299, H.R. 496,

H.R. 776, H.R. 1762, H.R. 1925, H.R.

2008, and H.R. 8237. Serial No. 12, Part

III. Washington, D.C. pp. 980, 1033, and

1942.

206
Hochschild, Arlie Russell. 1979. Emotion

work, feeling rules, and social structure.

American Journal of Sociology. pp.

551-574; p. 563, 566.

Institute of Cooperative Research. 1981.

Inventory of Native American Religious

Use, Practices, Localities and Resources:

Study Area on the Mt. Baker-Snoqualmie

National Forest, Washington State.

Seattle: Institute ‘of Cooperative

Research. 743 pp.

James, William. 1936. The Varieties of

Religious Experience. New York: The

Modem Library. pp. 371-372.

Lawliss, Lucy. Personal Communication.

November 5, 1987.

Leopold, Aldo. 1949. A Sand County

Almanac. Oxford University Press.

New York. Ballantine books, A

Division of Random House, Inc. 295

PP.

Market Opinion Research. 1986.

Participation in Outdoor Recreation

Among American Adults and the

Motivations which Drive Participation.

McDonald, Barbara. 1987. Enhancing

Community Awareness and Spiritual

Growth Through Recreation

Participation. Paper presented at the

National Recreation and Park Association

National Congress, New Orleans,

Louisiana.

McDonald, Kimla. 1987. Sacred Land in

Environmental Planning. The

Environmental Professional. Vol. 9, No.

1, 1987. pp. 27-32.

Norton, Bryan G. 1987. The Spiral of Life:

How it all Works, with Examples.

Wilderness, Spring, 1987. The

Wilderness Society.

Page, Jake. 1982. Inside the Sacred Hopi

Homeland. National Geographic

(November): 606-629.

Smith, Huston. 1958. The Religions of

Man. Harper and Row. p. 211.

United States Code of Federal Regulations. 36

CFR Ch. 11 (July 1, 1986 Edition). Part

293- Wilderness-Primitive Areas.

Paragraph 293.2 p. 205.

United States Department of the Interior,

National Park Service. 1986. 1982-1983

Nationwide Recreation survey.

Washington, D.C.: Superintendent of

Documents, U.S. Government Printing

Office. 96 pp.

U.S. Department of Agriculture, Forest Service

Handbook Chapter 2310, Recreation

System Planning. October 1967.

Vest, Jay Hansford C. 1987. “The

Philosophical Significance of Wilderness

Solitude,” Environmental Ethics. The

University of Georgia, Environmental

Philosophy, Inc. Vol. 9, p. 307, 327, 304.

Watkins, T. H. 1987. The arachnid

connection, Wildemess:Spring:l 1; 1987.

207
TH E COMMERCIAL PRODUCTION VALUES OF W ILDERNESS

Te re n ce Yorks*

ABSTRACT

My target is to ad d ress th e use, capability,

opportunities, and constraints of w ild e rness to

produce renew able resources such as fish ,

w ildlife, and w ate r w ith in w ild e rness for

eventual consum ption outside of w ild e rness.

To go beyond th eory w ill re quire an increase

in specifically targeted fund ing. M e anw h ile, it

can be suggested th at th ree basic law s drive

all production: (1) as biological d ive rsity

increases, so does-th e presence of m ate rials of

use to h um ans, (2) pollution is absolutely

related to energy use, (3) as energy use

increases, d ive rsity decreases. Since

m anagem ent as w ild e rness re quires least

energy use, it is actually ,in th e best potential

position am ong land optim iz ation strategies to

support our econom ic as w ell as our psych ic

needs. Concentrating on exceptions and

m anagem ent e rrors in th e past h as left us blind

to th is m ore general rule. Social, rath e r th an

practical consid e rations, h old back th ese

h ypoth eses m ost sh arply, includ ing our failure

to separate inappropriate use of m ach ines from

potentials for com m e rcial production.

A CAVEAT

I am in absolute agreement with the

importance of hard numbers, and the utility of

the requested scheme for organization of

papers in this group. Unfortunately, useful

numbers always have been available only in

exchange for dollars, despite a mystique among

salaried scientists that they should simply be

given. The following paper was prepared

without financial support,to allow the full use

of the powerful tools, techniques, and collected

information already available for the task.

This is reflected in the lack of reference

citations. In assessing wilderness survey work,

one should begin by musing on the meaning of

“professional,” by definition work that is paid

for, with quality related to price.

TH E OTH ER SIDE OF TH E COIN

In th e interim, there are some important

points which can be made with logic, which

should be at the heart of a good scientific

undertaking, including observations that might

help uncover some of the funding needed to

begin the job aright. First is clarifying some

of the underlying reasons why wilderness has

the capability to produce far more renewable

resources than most people expect. In this

especially, numbers alone are not the whole

story; the context of wilderness is

indispensable. Accordingly, this sketch will

follow how the very constraints that make

wilderness areas require special management

actually allow maximizing any land’s overall

productive potential. The conclusion projects a

rather unique framework in which to organize

a more complete analysis of that potential now

and in the future.

YORKS’ FOUR LAW S OF

PRODUCTIVITY:

(1) In the long run, as biological diversity

increases, so does the production of materials

of use to humans.

(2) Pollution is absolutely and unalterably

related to energy use. This puts limits on

machinery in a most interesting light.

(3) As energy use increases, diversity

decreases. Production losses follow. This is

the reason for the two first rules’ importance to

wilderness and to economics.

(4) For each rule, many exceptions can be

found, but three questions should follow. Does

the argument using the exception obscure the

overall truth? Could the exception be

sustained for a million years? If a million

years seems irrelevant, how long should human

society last?

* Consultant on Natural Resource Issues, Great Barrington, M assach usetts.

208
TH E TH EORETICAL UNDERPINNING

OF W ILDERNESS CAPABILITY

Th e primary positive implication of these

controversial laws is that Buckminster Fuller’s

oft-misused suggestion to “do more with less”

can bear some surprising fruit, with wide

applications that even its author did not expect.

An oversimplified example of the first law

at work can be found on the high plains of

Wyoming and Montana. There, most of the

land is too dry to farm, and livestock grazing

is a principal industry. One scheme of

classification for analysis has three basic forms

of plants: grasses, forbs (that!& those with

broad leaves often thought of as weeds--or

flowers), and shrubs. Because competition for

the region’s limited rain fall is usually the first

restricting plant growth here, ‘any one type has

its ability to grow reduced by grazing that puts

another selective pressure it. Cattle concentrate

on grasses. Hence, shrubs and forbs tend to

increase over time where cattle are the only

grazing animal. The more cattle, the greater

the effect. As shrubs enlarge in response to

reduced competition, they further limit grass

reproduction through shading and chemical

secretions. They also limit the usefulness of

what grass remains because the cattle can no

longer reach through the brush canopy.

However, if antelope are added to the

livestock, these native animals browse shrubs,

thereby aiding grass growth. More antelope

(up to a point, of course) mean more grass,

just as cattle in increasing numbers mean more

shrubs and less grass. Hence, not only can

one harvest more meat by having antelope as

well as cattle on the land, but one can,

surprisingly, keep more cattle on a given piece

of land by having antelope there as well. As

each other animal type is added, the advantage

from maintaining plant balance is widened

through similar, though often more subtle,

interactions. Bison, for example, can break

through even heavy shrubs to reach grass that

cattle cannot, as well as survive winters

without supplementation.

There are a plethora of legal, historical,

and statistical anomalies which have obscured

the ought-to-be obvious overall superiority

through their complex adaptation of mixtures

of native animals over our domesticates. Land

managers have concentrated too long on the

historically familiar, and failed to catch the

overall drift of ecosystem development and

natural cycling. Just extending the logic of the

cattle-antelope-bison equation through the

variety of national plant and animal types helps

prove the first law: the longer the term and

the larger the area, and the more potential

products of value to humans that are included

in the survey, the more strongly diversity

correlates with productivity.

The second law is one engineers have

made great profits from overlooking, and

represents the inverse side of production

potential from wilderness or wilderness-like

landscapes. Pollution, in its broadest

definition, comes in many forms, from toxic

chemicals to too much sediment to noise.

Industry has bamboozled us into thinking that

some form of control is possible for any form

of waste. Unfortunately, it is only how much

energy we use, not how it is used, that

eventually determines final impacts. We were

easily misled by local anomalies, such as

highly toxic stuff that didn’t seem to take much

energy to make, or clean-ups that seemed to be

effective. The general rule is that it takes

effort to become really nasty. The more

energy used, the greater the overall pollution

that results. Period.

Sticking to the long term, large-scale,

vision, all that control technologies accomplish

is to move problems around. In a crude

example, many people switched to electricity

for cooking or heating so smells and dirt

would move out of their houses. Indeed, some

minor noxiousness did move away from the

individual home, so we were encouraged to use

ever more energy, though meanwhile the

inevitable by-products of combustion became

concentrated at central electric plants. We then

became offended by those generating units’

acrid smoke, so we built tall stacks, after

precipitating out the blackest part. Now we

are learning that the rest of the smoke, freed of

its basic ash, didn’t just go away, but continued

to build in the atmosphere to come down

increased in acidity many miles away, where it

is just starting visibly to kill huge areas of

trees and water-borne life.

It is here that wilderness comes to the

point. Pollution producing devices, of which

209
the internal combustion engine and

high-tension electricity are central examples,

are already illegal in a wilderness. So am all

forms of energy-intensive toxic chemicals.

The third law starts here and reflects still

more kinds of disturbance from energy use.

While natural systems are robust, they simply

cannot survive mechanized intrusion if all their

needed parts are t.o remain intact. An elk will

not come willingly within a quarter of a mile

of a highway. Sugar maples cannot survive

acid rain. Many, if not most, critical natural

pieces in the system are even more delicate.

With each loss, the overall productive potential

declines as well. Whatrmakes a natural system

especially efficient lies precisely among the

mutualistic effects of its constituents. The nice

part of the third law is that if present levels of

mechanized disturbance are reduced, the

declines in productive potential already

occurring may be reversed. This is true if, and

only if, more complex natural systems are

restored, and if energy use levels are kept

compatible with the natural flows. However,

only complete systems am self-healing, and

completeness requires quite large areas.

In counterpoint, we must eat to live, so

the best providers of food will be given the

most room on a crowded planet. Hence, the

only way to have geese in the sky or bison on

the plains is to assure its value on the plate.

Only then will they be given sufficient habitat;

only then will they be assured protection from

overuse or other abuse. Humanity watches out

for what we consider most, not least, valuable.

Cattle rustling was not stopped by prohibiting

trade in beef or leather, after all. The same

principle applies to producers of fiber or other

special human wants.

In the example of the return of the

American bison, it is paradoxical that the very

eating or other use of an animal or plant

allowed it to grow again in numbers. Only

when the selling price of bison rose did these

native animals in any number displace cattle

for whom land was taken 100 years ago.

Otherwise, American buffalo would have

remained isolated curiosities in a few zoos and

parks. It may seem unfortunate, but it is true

that only by having sufficient economic value

through sustainable consumption can

endangered species be given places to thrive,

as opposed to just (possibly) survive, in this

humandominated world. Luckily, for us and

for them, the direction of all natural systems is

to produce a surplus against adversity and to

spread themselves. This surplus is one that we

humans, with wisdom in seeing to the systems’

replacement needs, may harvest to mutual

benefit.

COMMERCIAL USE VERSUS

MECHANIZED INTRUSION

I do confess to bias when talking about

wilderness. The few remaining truly natural

places should be held sacred, honored by quiet

within them. Some of this feeling was

reflected by Congress in the 1964 Wilderness

Act through a prohibition, within formally

designated areas, of the use of machines of any

sort, or any commercial harvest. The need for

stillness in the woods remains, but it now

should be questioned whether the assumption

that machines and harvests are unalterably

intertwined is actually appropriate, and what

difference separating the two might make to

our thinking and subsequent practice.

Most of us agree that some use of

products from the land is essential for human

survival, and also that mechanization is

incompatible with wilderness for both spiritual

and practical reasons. Amidst this, there is an

alternative receiving little talk and less action:

commercial use of natural systems kept as

natural systems, but without bringing in fossil

fuel-driven machines. Given that commercial

harvests from most lands are needed by

humans, only this forgotten alternative can

allow expanding wilderness character into areas

now used for mechanized production; it could

also help us protect those many diminishing

habitats now faced by imminent human need.

Certainly, there is a real place for fully

undisturbed areas within the rigorous

conception of the current Wilderness Act, both

for scientific reference and for recreation. The

fight for these should continue unabated.

Many low productivity areas now formally

protected can tolerate relatively limited export

use. However, here I am suggesting reaching

out to far larger blocks of land than

commercial use prohibitions could ever

contain. More respect for an expanding “less

210
formal wilderness” could come from our own

needs for survival as well as for the

requirements of the soil and its creatures. This

approach could give us far more than what

even the most convinced purest-wilderness

enthusiast could foresee as retaining or

regaining any semblance of wildness, from

recreating prairies to full-scale Eastern forests,

as well as saving jungles and the veldt.

Where our affection for energy intensive

machines came from can be typified in a single

example. I’m among those who cut more than

enough wood with a human-powered cross-cut

saw. It ain’t fun for long, and takes too much

time if any quantity is needed. The “normal”

response is a chainsaw. However, from the

systems point of view, if one builds or refits a

house in a more respectful fashion, as Wendell

Berry suggests, the need becomes only a small

fraction of the wood now used, either in

construction or keeping the place warm once

built. The related techniques are essential for

the future, without doubt, and should give us

both quieter and more comfortable places to

live, including reducing that need to go into

the woods with greed in our hearts. But, in

cutting the wood still necessary, could there be

another choice?

At least one possibility has not yet been

followed far enough. I once worked a little

with electron microscopy. There, one has to

cut things incredibly thin to look at them, and

the tool of choice is called a microtome. A

microtome uses a knife blade made of finely

broken glass, not some magic material.

Nevertheless, we were warned that if we

dropped the thing, it would neatly slice off our

feet. Now, glass can be environmentally rather

benign, if used in reasonable quantities, and

cutting rather than sawing saves a great deal of

material that would otherwise become sawdust.

Not making sawdust also saves a considerable

amount of energy, which in turn makes things

quieter, as well as leaving a cleaner surface for

joints, along with more wood to work in the

first place. Interestingly, quiet (not muffling)

is the direction of true efficiency.

l The upshot is that there is no harvest task

that cannot be done, and done better, without

the use of our current assumption of a heavy

machine to do that job. Correspondingly, the

less energy intensive our tools, the closer we

come to the wilderness ideal. I chose to attack

chainsaws because they are among the hardest

to deduce an alternative for, and just a

hypothetical solution to illustrate the kind of

innovative thinking that is so badly needed.

The same kind of logic applies to

transportation and virtually every harvest or

management problem. If we can make a solar

powered word processor, we can carry off the

rest of our material tasks without needing a

drop of (imported) polluting oil.

As well as new ways, we should look

more seriously at the recent economic studies

concluding that by far the most profitable

agricultural operations in the U.S. are those of

the Amish and others who have eschewed

“progress” by retaining their horse-powered

equipment. In either event, we need to think

more carefully about the inevitability of seeing

commercial use and mechanized intrusion as

inseparable.

SO W H AT NUMBERS DO W E NEED?

Have we fully thought out exactly what it

is we are looking for? In thinking about

multiple use, have we come close to looking

for all of the potential outputs of more natural

ecosystems?

Have we bothered before to count the

mushrooms, in time and space, that could be

desired by a gourmet market? The few now

sought already draw impressive prices even

without fixed distribution channels. Potential

medicinals are in an exceedingly crude state of

analysis, understanding, and development.

Decorative plants and flowers are a major

greenhouse industry. How many new and

impressive ones could be safely harvested from

the wild, if they were taxed and protected by

the proceeds of those taxes? How much more

habitat could be created for them then?

With the evolving techniques for subtle

chemical, genetic, and mechanical tagging of

animal products to avoid poaching, how many

more furs, leathers, feathers, and high priced

meats could be sustainably harvested from our

forests and our prairies? We already have

plenty of evidence that the general interest

market, both here and abroad, will pay a

substantial premium for bison, elk or other

211
game meat, whenever it is available. Then,

too, what about specialty woods or other

fibers? We must remember, as a central point

in approaching this kind of analysis, that it is

in looking for the UNfamiliar actual progress is

made.

Therefore, if we are to step beyond the

valuable recreational uses of wilderness, or

beyond the more familiar products of the land,

and fully consider what wilderness has in its

stores, we must expand our inventories to what

we never considered before. Why not begin

by sending in teams of bright young (or old)

people with blank pieces of paper to look, to

record, to discuss everything that they see and

how it might be of use to humans? The

broader the diversity of background of these

next-generation explorers, the greater the

potential for new discoveries. For example,

something called “pine straw” is a significant

industry in North Carolina. To a scientist from

Wyoming, that was quite a surprise. Less

unexpected, but even more important to the

present case, I recently visited a restaurant in

Idaho that quickly sold out a shipment (at $20

for four ounces) of legal moose meat. There

must be literally millions of cross-cultural

connections to be made for otherwise

unexpected but useful, yet even more valuable,

goods.

I am among those who prefer to eat what

already has a track record for desirability, but I

also know that we have overlooked some

really good stuff that is already ready for

harvest from the wilderness. The kiwi fruit is

a recently commercialized example. David

Arkcoll, a friend in Brazil, spent several years

looking at Amazon rainforest fruits, working

under the assumption that if jungle were seen

as more valuable for the products already

there, those forests would no longer be

threatened with clearcutting. After surveying

more than 500 possibilities, he found at least

50 with full commercial potential, meaning at

least as tasty as a kiwi or a papaya.

We have never analyzed American

wilderness for its total edibles, either for those

of known goodness, like native raspberries and

strawberries, or for unexpected potential.

Perhaps following grizzly bears, who tend to

sham human tastes, to have a look at what

they are eating might have more virtues than

those who consider the bears as pests might

expect. In this, I do not mean to imply a

return to a gatherer culture, but rather an

enlightened harvest, utilizing low-impact

storage and distribution techniques unavailable

to our distant ancestors.

From this standpoint, I would like to

suggest our next generation of measurements

include total amino acid nitrogen, fats, and

carbohydrates that are produced by various

ecosystems. These are the literal basis of our

food needs. In my doctoral training as a food

technologist, I was thoroughly introduced to

the practicality of taking virtually anything and

making it more or less edible, if the nutrients

were there at the beginning. This might seem

distasteful, but if we do not work fast and

more effectively to limit our human numbers,

we are going to need a lot more food in a

surprisingly short time. Even more than is

presently the case, natural environments are

only going to survive if they seem productively

competitive.

Relatedly, if we were able to list the

totality of the available nutrients, we could

have the underlying basis of biological growth

cycles within the system, as well as our own

potential uses. From this, we should be able

to demonstrate conclusively whether natural

systems more efficiently harness their resources

than do artificial systems as I have suggested.

Cellulose and lignin summaries would give a

bottom-line indication of the available fiber

and miscellaneous chemicals that are the

eventual source of our clothing, renewable

shelter, and regrowable fuels.

From this data scheme, we could begin a

more effective comparison among alternative

land uses. Current agricultural statistical

thinking cannot even compare a two-acre field

with both corn and beans on it to two one-acre

fields, one with corn and one with beans. We

have abundant proof that a combination of

crops gives more overall in both the short and

the long run, especially since combining

reduces fertilizer requirements and soil erosion,

but the statistics of reporting cannot cope with

more than one crop at a time. The corn is

slightly more dispersed in the mixed case, so it

looks like it is giving less per acre in our

books, even though each plant is more

212
effective, and the space between them is

producing beans. For wilderness accounting,

we should go further, and also list the toxic

chemicals which would NOT be dispersed and

the soil that would NOT be lost, as well as the

more direct gains.

Clean water is a value of increasing

importance. There is no better essential

fiitration and purification system than an

undisturbed wilderness, although Girardia (and

other naturally occurring parasites or problem

organisms), no matter what their actual source,

often require some follow-up filtration.

Nevertheless, at $1 per gallon plus prices now

paid for bottled water, one can imagine a vast

profit potential for wilderness generated water

in an increasingly polluted world outside. The

value will vary, depending on the calculation

tool and the inventiveness of entrepreneurs, but

there is a very large market here.

Furbearers and large native ungulates are

worth spending a bit of time with, since they

are particularly valuable, but at the same time

a socially controversial product best grown in

wilderness. They are also especially likely to

stray beyond boundaries and cause immediately

apparent problems among their less visionary

human neighbors.

Landowners will tolerate a lot more deer,

beaver, or wolves, if they see a notable return

for the presence of those creatures. Otherwise,

they will continue dynamiting beaver dams to

keep their roads from being muddy, and

poisoning predators because the sheep are

worth more. The same increased toleration

could be true for National Forest managers, if

portions of funds gained by harvest were

returned to the land from which they came.

What needs to be bluntly repeated to the fur or

game use opponents is, “how many native

animals do you want to live at all?” The

purpose of the statistics of Wilderness should

be in part to illustrate how many more native

animals there could be if their harvests were

considered important enough.

As a social constraint in the world at

large, hunting and trapping did, of course,

exterminate species when no effective

regulation existed. However, a tax on a

valuable trade, properly channeled, can provide

for a much more effective regulatory police

against poaching than can absolute prohibition

of that trade. This is especially true where

control efforts must compete for funding

against bread subsidies or spending by the

military. Such taxes and targeted enforcement

were quite critical to the growth of the

domestic animal and fiber industries. The size

of an enforcement fund that could be generated

from furs, from sale of game meat, and from

any other products should be among wilderness

statistics.

Fur will always remains an expensive

resource in many ways, since several deer or

sheep may be needed to maintain one wolf.

But, seen from a more complete view,

fur-bearing predators tend to concentrate on

smaller herbivores. These small herbivores

often corn

P

ete directly with the larger game or

livestock or food and tend to be animals (such

as rats) that we are not willing to eat

ourselves. The furbearers serve, therefore, to

increase the carrying capacity for the higher

value ungulates (from our perspective), even if

they do eat one of them every now and again.

Land managers need to remember that it takes

just seventeen jackrabbits to consume as much

grass as one cow. It is more difficult to see

what coyote (or wolf) control of rabbits and

rodents gives to the sheep in the form of extra

grass than to relate to a gnawed-upon carcass,

but more thorough wilderness record keeping

could be a place to begin.

Furbearers unequivocally provide quality

control for disease in large animal herds; this

is also a very real use, and one that is the

opposite of competition with human harvest.

Furs last a long time, too, once harvested.

While the absolute number of furbearers may

be low, the effective number of coats which

can be produced is larger than might at first

seem, since each should last at least a human

lifetime. At $100 per pelt, even a few of these

animals can make a lot of difference to a

wilderness value balance sheet.

Fish and waterfowl fall even more into the

grey area of recreation utility versus absolute

food and by-product value than do large

ungulates. Because there are so many hunters

and fishermen who will pay more than the

animals’ value as a food source alone to collect

them, the total economic value of the animals

is heavily shifted toward the recreation sector.

213
An important potential tool in commercial

wilderness management lies in employing

sportsmen who will pay just for being able to

participate in the chase. If native fish and

waterfowl could go to the gourmet trade at

high prices, there are harvesters who will pay

well for the privilege of going on foot to do

the work. Already outfitting is allowed as a

commercial enterprise even in formally

designated wilderness areas. It is an activity

with considerable room for commercial

expansion.

The Nature Conservancy, probably the

most successful pure preservation organization,

has started recently to broaden its operations

by selling the native products of its lands (in

the first case, surplus bison). They have found

that with a more complete ecosystem, there is

valuable surplus that literally needs harvesting.

By reinvesting that recovered surplus value,

their acreage can continue to grow.

By far the biggest wilderness use

restrictions lie in the social sphere. We all

hear so many false promises that it is difficult

to believe in something better, especially if the

payback is not always immediate on that

investment. There am many faster ways to

make a buck than learning to work with

natural systems. Longer term costs of current

mechanized ways appear always pushable just

a bit further off. Management of lands for

wilderness values requires large contiguous

areas. This demands cooperation, and

reevaluation of concepts of private land

ownership. Any changeover requires both time

and vision. What the right set of statistics

could establish is that there have been vast

readjustments during the past 50 years in land

management. Then, there might be less reason

to doubt that there could be even more in the

next fiiy.

In the context of a group of scientists, it

may seem out of place to suggest that

wilderness is truly Eden, in the Biblical sense,

where the products we desire most are

produced free for the asking. But, if we begin

surveying our wildernesses from that

perspective--subject to our careful stewardship

in limiting our take and the manner in which

that take is made, we almost certainly will get

a better idea of the richness that actually is out

there. If we expand our vision to look for the

totality of what we might reap without the use

of a plow, we would finally begin to see why

the Creator was pleased with Creation, and did

not hand us the planet with the intent to see it

turned under or paved over.

PRACTICALLYANDFORTHE

PRESENT

One way to begin is with a comprehensive

literature review. I have collected many more

than 1,000 particularly cogent references on the

comparison of wilderness versus other land

use, with strengths and weaknesses on each

side, a great many of which would have added

depth and scientific credibility to the tale just

sketched, if they could have been cited

effectively. These and many others need to be

tied together in an “idea data base.” The

structure of the data base would include as

categories all the points thus far raised, along

with others such as the health benefits and

potential dangers of game meat. Even

cataloging the potential products from

wilderness management has never been done in

thorough detail.

When these ideas are structured and

supplemented from other data bases, a

side-by-side system comparison model should

be constructed for several representative areas.

Potential primary, secondary, and tertiary costs

and benefits should be laid out and evaluated.

There are many existing computer-based

“shells” within which such a comparison could

be handled. The target would be the

construction of a theoretical land management

plan, which would be weighed against current

management strategies. Creatively handled,

computers are amazingly flexible beasts.

Social barriers to changed wilderness use

will also need to be examined in more detail,

along with historical literature containing

suggestions on how these barriers, once

discovered, have been successfully overcome in

the past.

Once a management plan has been

sketched, practical questions such as

“What is the minimum size for a land

management unit?“, “How to minimize

fencing?“, and “How to make maximal use of

migration characteristics?” must

214
be answered, and the missing data elicited

through research.

These are all tasks that cost money. The

wisdom to begin spending is what I have tried

to suggest.

215
APPENDIX

OPTIMIZ ING NON-RECREATIONAL W ILDERNESS USES AND

VALUES:RECOMMENDATIONS AND STRATEGIES

FOR TH E NEXT TEN YEARS

Patrick C. Reed, H. Ken Cordell, and Helen R. Freilich*

ABSTRACT

Th e 19 88 National W ild e rness Colloq uium

brough t togeth e r professionals from a variety

of fede ral agencies, non- gove rnm ental

organiz ations and univefsities to review th e

stutus of non- recreational uses and values of

w ild erness. Part of th e colloq uium w as

d evoted to nom inal group sessions and th e

generation of a variety ,of recom m endations

and strategies for optim izing non- recreational

w ild e rness use ove r th e next ten years. Am ong

th e h igh est priority recom m endations w e re an

increased attention to fund ing, research ,

m anagem ent d irection and training, and th e

acq uisition of und e rrepresented w ild e rness

areas.

One of the primary reasons for holding the

1988 National Wilderness Colloquium was to

improve our understanding of the nonrecreational uses and values of the nation’s

wilderness for the upcoming 1989 Forest and

Rangeland Renewable Resources Planning Act

(RPA) Assessment. Accordingly, the nearly

two dozen papers found in these Colloquium

proceedings were commissioned to present

facts on the nature, extent, trends, and issues

of existing no-recreational wilderness uses.

But, equally important for the RPA

Assessment are informed professional ideas on

what changes should occur during the next 10

year RPA planning cycle in order to optimize

the status of non-recreational wilderness uses.

Because an end is no better than the means to

achieve it, thoughts on specific programs and

policies necessary to implement the desired

changes were also elicited at the Colloquium.

In order to maximize the synthesis of

information and exchange of ideas among the

invited representatives of federal agencies, nongovernmental organizations (NGOs) and

universities, the Colloquium included a day

devoted to the structured collection of

individual opinions using the “nominal group”

technique.

THE NOMINAL GROUP PROCESS

Developed by Delbecq and Van de Ven in

1968, the “nominal group” process was

developed to improve group decision-making

by (1) assuring that different and appropriate

processes are used for each phase of creativity,

(2) balancing participation among members,

and (3) incorporating mathematical voting

techniques in the aggregation of group

judgement (Delbecq et al. 1975).

Briefly, the nominal group process

generally involves the following steps:

1. Division of individuals into small

groups.

2. Silent generation of ideas by each

individual.

* Th e auth ors are respectively Faculty Aflliate in th e Departm ent of R ecreation Resources and

Landscape Arch itecture, Colorado State Unive rsity; Project Leader and Outdoor R e creation

Planne r, R e creation and W ild e rness Assessm ent Research , South easte rn Forest Expe rim ent Station,

USDA Forest Se rvice.

The auth ors w ish to th ank the follow ing for facilitating nom inal group sessions at the National W ild erness

Colloq uium : D on English , Larry Ph illips, and Allen R ow e11 (Forest Se rvice ). Th ank s also go to D r. Ed

Krum pe (Unive rsity of Idah o) for sh aring h is expe rience w ith nom inal group processes and Dr. Elw ood

Sh afe r (The Pennsylvania State Unive rsity).

216
3.

4.

5.

6.

7.

Round-robin recording of ideas by

facilitator.

Serial discussion for clarification of

ideas.

$nrdual ranking (prioritization)

Group ranking (prioritization) of

ideas.

Group summaries.

of

The nominal group pro

systematically and r:

ess was chosen to

objective y capture the

diversity of opinions for several reasons. First,

it is a proven methodcapable of synthesizing

the range of fields represented at the

colloquium. Second, it has been rather

successfully used in a similar context at a

previous wilderness management conference in

1984 (Krumpe 1985).

At the colloquium, three different groups

of approximately eight persons were formed.

Each group was given a question to work on

for two hours in the morning. Later, the same

groups were given a second question to work

on for another two hours in the afternoon

relating to the results of the first question.

THE QUESTIONS

Th e questions posed to the nominal groups

were designed to focus-in on ideas and issues

that are most relevant to needs for the 1990

RPA Assessment discussion of non-recreational

wilderness use, including major supply-demand

findings, opportunities for improvements, and

potential barriers to implementation as well as

recommended programs.

For the morning session three groups were

formed and asked to respond to the following

question:

“W h at ch anges, additions, and/or

events do you th ink sh ould occur in

th e next ten years in ord e r to

optim ize th e recreational uses and

values from w ild e rness (eg. scientific,

e ducational, and ecosystem

preservation values)?”

In the afternoon session the same group

members then addressed a second question

related to the top five changes, conditions, or

events identified at the end of the morning

session:

“W h at specific program s, policies,

and m anagem ent strategies sh ould th e

Forest Se rvice adopt to im prove nonrecreational values and uses af

w ild erness? ”

Th e responses of each of the three groups

were tallied and reported to the persons

attending the Colloquium before the end of the

day. The overall combined results of the three

groups were later tabulated to produce a master

list or recommendations and strategies.

10 PRIORITY RECOMMENDATIONS

AND STRATEGIES

More than 50 different changes or events

that would improve non-recreational wilderness

uses were recommended by the three nominal

groups during the morning sessions. Nearly as

many specific program and policy strategies

were then recommended in the afternoon

session to implement the changes or events.

Listed below, in order of importance as

determined by the three groups, ate the 10

highest priority recommendations and

implementation strategies for optimizing nonrecreational wilderness uses and values in the

National Wilderness Preservation System

(NWPS) and elsewhere (in most cases the

original language has been retained). Several of

the recommendations have more than one part,

Recommendation: Increase research into

non-recreational uses of wilderness

Develop a wilderness research initiative for

non-recreational benefits and values, including

definitions. Mandate a mission statement for

long-term social, cultural and ecological

research. To achieve this, establish guidance

for such studies, including the maintenance of

long-term studies, types and uses of

wilderness-compatible technologies, means of

access into the wilderness.

217
Fund research for baseline data

development for non-recreational wilderness

values. To achieve this, develop partnerships

with other organizations who can use data.

Develop challenge grants for research.

Recommendation: Acquire additional

wilderness

Review and inventory roadless areas for nonrecreational wilderness values, and additions

into the NWPS, for areas with high densities

of non -recreational wilderness values (use

geographic information systems, landform and

ecosystem data). To achieve this, develop a

national database on non-recreational

wilderness values in roadless areas during the

next ten years. With the next round of forest

plans, do proposa$ for wildernesses with high

densities of non-recreational values. Tie into

existing legislative efforts.

Establish more wildernesses and more

“wilderness-like” recreation opportunities on

non-wilderness public and private land. To

achieve this, establish more de facto wilderness

(special interest areas). Develop cooperative

programs with NGO’s; increase public

involvement.

Insure that opportunities exist for the

NWPS to include 13% of the United States

land base (5% coterminous). Acquire or

otherwise insure protection of “missing”

ecotypes. To achieve this, protect roadless

Forest Service land. Identify and protect

sensitive ecotypes from human impact. Place

greater emphasis on non-recreational values in

wilderness allocation/designation. Establish

policy to represent all biogeographic provinces

in wilderness.

Recommendation: Increase wilderness

funding

Funding needs to be adequate to manage

existing wilderness, acquire inholdings, and do

research. Provide budget increases to support

high priority items. To achieve this, have

Forest Service request additional funding.

Have NGO’s, wilderness fees, etc., support

agency budget. Earmark Land and Water

Conservation Fund monies for purchasing

inholdings. Use S & PF budget to support

uses on non-wilderness land.

Increase the wilderness sham of federal

dollars. To achieve this, provide greater

flexibility for local managers in allocating

funding. Establish a line item in the budget

for wilderness. Get authority to allow

permittees to “work off’ fee in lieu of dollars

payment (e.g., pack out litter, any physical

work, monitor overflights, etc.).

Recommendation: Develop explicit

wilderness management implementation

schedule or plan

To achieve this, guidelines need to be

developed for both natural and cultural

resource management plans. Develop designs

for prioritizing quantitative and qualitative nonrecreational values.

Recommendation: Increase awareness of

non-recreational values to non-traditional

users, managers, and decision-makers

To achieve this, establish interagency policy

review of non-recreational values and benefits.

Develop training courses and public outmach

programs to increase the awareness of nonrecreational values, and examine

interdependencies in them.

Recommendation: Require the Forest

Service to complete “Levels of Acceptable

Change (LAC)” studies for each wilderness

To achieve this, develop uniform standards

for areas with some similarities. Develop tools

to assess non-recreational wilderness values.

Increase the rate of technology transfer.

Develop prototypes for non-recreational LAC’s

(eg. water quality, exotic species intrusion,

habitat alteration). Each area should have an

LAC study for specific problem targets. May

be workable for collecting baseline data, or for

specific items or problems.

Recommendation: Establish a national

register of vital data for each area in the

National Wilderness Preservation System

To achieve this, inventory current efforts and

available data. Flag known discrepancies.

Design database elements, data sources, and a

prototype. Organize a working group; seek

budget funding and legislative responsibility.

Keep annual reports up-to-date and in a

standard place.

218
Recommendation: Create a “pro-active”

rather than If re-active” state-of-mind

To achieve this, have NGO’s publish

descriptions and information on nonrecreational wilderness values to inform/educate

publics. Mandate better education and training

of professionals and agency staff, including

certification X-118 standards and curricula at

all levels. Do not limit wilderness managers to

foresters. Develop job classification for

wilderness managers. Build bridges between

government agencies and constituencies

(partnerships). Give recognition for

achievement/service for outstanding efforts.

Recommendation: Incorporate nonrecreational values into wilderness

management plans__

To achieve this, include a greater

emphasis on non-recreatiohal values in RPA,

Forest Plans, and other program documents.

Incorporate a biodiversity element into the

wilderness element of Forest management

plans.

Recommendation: Conduct an assessment of

threats to wilderness

To achieve this, conduct a threats analysis

and amelioration strategy. Define legally

appropriate non-recreational activities for

wilderness.

CONCLUSION

It was a very large responsibility for

colloquium participants to attempt to represent

all other views from their particular disciplines

during the nominal group sessions. There is

no doubt that another group of experts might

have come up with a different set or priority of

composite recommendations and strategies than

those above. However, the diversity of

disciplines, interests, and groups represented at

the colloquium probably minimized the range

of other unrepresented views.

The general context of these and other

recommendations will be included in the

wilderness portion of the 1990 RPA

Assessment. It is hoped that other federal

agencies and non-governmental organizations

alike will also consider, cooperate with or

adopt these strategies for optimizing the nonrecreational use of wilderness and other

federal, state, regional, and private de facto

wildland preservation systems over the next 10

years.

REFERENCES

Delbecq, Andre L., Andrew H. Van de Ven

and David H. Gustafson. 1975. Group

Techniques for Program Planning: A

Guide to Nominal Group and Delphi

Processes. Scott, Foresman & Company:

Glenview, Illinois.

Krumpe, Edwin. 1985. Moving to Action. In:

Frome, Michael, ed. Issues in Wilderness

Management. Westview Press: Boulder,

Colorado.

219
NON-RECREATIONAL USES OF THE NATIONAL WILDERNESS

PRESERVATION SYSTEM: A 1988 TELEPHONE SURVEY

Patrick Reed, Glenn Haas, Frank Beum, and Lois Sherrick*

ABSTRACT

In connection w ith th e 19 88 National

W ild e rness Colloq uium , a teleph one survey of

non- recreational w ild e rness uses w as

conducted in th e fall of 19 87. W ild erness

m anage rs of all units of th e National

W ild e rness Preservation System w e re polle d

regard ing th e nature, extent, and trends of

various non- recreational uses. Th e results of

th e survey suggest ?h at, in general, a w id e

variety of non- recreationnl uses are occurring

in w ild e rness and th at increased attention to

th eir m anagem ent is becom ing increasingly

necessary.

Our knowledge of the current state of nonrecreational uses of the National Wilderness

Preservation System (NWPS), such as

preservation, scientific, educational, and

spiritual uses, is limited. In many cases we

have yet to begin to seriously explore the

values and inter-relationships of these and

other non-recreational uses. Even basic

information on the type, number and

distribution of non-recreational uses of

wilderness today is generally less available

than comparable information on the

recreational use of wilderness.

The 1988 National Wilderness Colloquium

was conceived of as a foundation for

improving our understanding and monitoring of

non-recreational uses of wilderness. A number

of research papers were commissioned for the

Colloquium to describe the variety of these

uses. Preliminary reviews .of existing research

indicated that, for the most part, there was

little existing information for reference. Many

of the papers were able to draw upon only

very limited data that was in any way current,

consistent or comprehensive.

In an attempt to supplement information

from the papers, Colloquium planners

conducted an independent nationwide

nonscientific telephone survey of all NWPS

units in the fall of 1987.

SURVEY RATIONALE AND

METHODOLOGY

The principal objectives of the informal

telephone survey were to gather current and

consistent data on (1) the nature and extent of

non-recreational wilderness uses and (2)

whether the trend in those uses has been

increasing or decreasing over the past three

years. In addition, other questions were

included to better identify specific elements of

the use and to better understand the

relationships between non-recreational and

recreational uses, management practices, and

other land uses. There were two overriding

concerns in the design of the telephone survey.

First, information on 100 percent of the

wilderness areas was desired. Second, the

survey should minimize the amount of time

that respondents needed to answer questions.

Consequently, individual questions were

designed so as not to require respondents to

refer to specific quantitative information from

files or other records to answer. Rather,

respondents answered in general from their

personal knowledge. For consistency, the same

wording was used for all four agencies.

From September to November, 1987, two

Colorado State University graduate students

interviewed “wilderness managers” by

telephone in each national forest, park, wildlife

refuge, and Bureau of Land Management

(BLM) district with designated wilderness’.

Additional telephone interviews were again

conducted in January, 1988, for 12 wilderness

units added to the NWPS in late December,

* The auth ors are respectively Faculty Aflliate, De partm ent Ch airm an, and graduate stud ents in th e

D e partm ent of R ecreation Resources and Landscape Arch itecture, Colorado State Unive rsity.

220
1987. Data for every unit in the NWPS--

current through the end of 1987--were

collected in the more than 200 hours of

interviewing.

Interviewers contacted national forests,

parks, and wildlife refuges, and BLM districts

administering wilderness and asked to speak

with that person who was most familiar (i.e.,

“wilderness managers”) with the different uses

and activities in each wilderness. Respondents

were then asked to identify uses and provide

general descriptions without looking up

detailed information. Answers were limited to

one of several pre-defined descriptions.

Due to the limitations in the survey

methodology, several sources of error were

possible.’ Foremost was the fact that the

beliefs of the wilderness managers may not

accurately reflect the actual conditions.

Similarly, some respondents may not have had

their current responsibilities for the past three

years and consequently might not have direct

experience of changes and trends. However, in

many cases such information may not have

been available even if respondents had tried to

locate it in files or records. Interviewers

estimated that more than 90 percent of all

questions were answered with apparent

confidence.

Another problem was that some of the

questions used in the survey may have been

rather broad in definition and scope, leaving

some room for personal interpretation. Certain

terms inadvertently may have been more

relevant to some agencies than others. In

nearly all cases though, interviewers were able

to assist respondents to their satisfaction in

understanding the intent of the questions.

MAJOR FINDINGS

While the survey does not provide the

definitive study of non-recreational wilderness

use, it does provide some insight into the

general status of such uses in the NWPS in

1987 (and over the past three years). In light

of the following major findings of the survey,

however, it is doubtful whether the federal

agencies can afford not to actively manage

non-recreational uses of wilderness:

1) There are indeed a wide variety of both

well-recognized and little researched nonrecreational uses occurring in the NWPS, with

nearly all units accommodating a number more

than type of non-recreational use;

2) For most of the non-recreational uses

the trend over the past three years seems to

have been fairly stable, with slightly more

types of non-recreational uses increasing than

decreasing;

3) With the exception of outfitting and

guiding services (which are apparently growing

markedly), traditional nonconforming uses such

as grazing and mining appear to be declining;

4) A number of non-recreational uses may

be coming into increased conflict with

recreational wilderness use; and

5) Most wilderness areas do not have

completed separate management plans,

especially as they address non-recreational uses

(although many are in progress).

As much as anything, the results of the

telephone survey probably suggest that we

don t know enough about the state of nonrecreational wilderness uses to ask the most

appropriate questions. We recommendation

that a more refined, detailed and coordinated

nationwide survey (written or telephone) survey

be conducted annually to monitor nonrecreational wilderness uses and trends.

SURVEY RESULTS

The following are the questions as they

were asked in the telephone survey. Below

each question are the pre-selected answers

which were possible and the percent of

wilderness areas falling into each category.

All percents represent combined Forest Service,

National Park Service, Fish and Wildlife, and

Bureau of Land Management wilderness.

As evident by the annotations for the

results, the understanding, concepts, and

terminology for non-recreational wilderness is

not well-defined and developed. This was true

not only among the four different agencies but

also within the agencies, particularly between

eastern and western wilderness areas.

221
1. Are there any environmental research studies regarding fish, wildlife, vegetation, soils, geology,

air, water, or ecological processes being conducted in the wilderness this year?

Response for 1987 (%)

Yes . . . . . . 37.43

No.. . . . . . 60.9

Don’t know . 1.6

Trend ove east three Years (%)

Itrcreasingr . . 20.7

Decreasing , . 4.1

Same 73.6

Don’t l;nb;v’: .1,6

2. Are there any social research studies regarding the public use or users being conducted in the

wilderness this year?

Response for 1987 (%)

Yes . . . . . 13.7 4

No Don’; Ib’dw’ ’ ;6$

Trend over nast three years (%)

Increasing . . 7.0

IILclclasing * 4. 9

87.1

Don’t I;nb;v’: 1.0

3. Are there any special resource management training programs being conducted in the wilderness

this year?

4. Are

church

Response for 1987 (%1 Trend over past three years (%)

Yes . . . . . 11.9’ Increasing . 7.4

No

Don’t’6;oi * g3

Decreasing . 0.4

Same

Don’t I;nb;v’: ?.\O

there any organized environmental or conservation education programs--such as Boy Scouts,

groups, secondary schools, or colleges--being conducted in the wilderness this year?6

Response for 1987 (%I

Yes . . . . . . 38.7’

No 59.1

Don’t’Ih;o’w’ ’ 2.2

Trend over past three years(%)

Increasing . 11.5

Decreasing . . 2.0

Same

Don’t l;nb;r’: if;”

5. Are there any organized environmental or conservation education programs--such as Boy Scouts,

Vision Quest, or Big Brothers for leadership, self-confidence, team-building, and decision making--

being conducted in the wilderness this year?

Response for 1987 (%) (%) Trend ove pa t three years (%)

Yes . . . . . 17.6 Increasingr . ‘5.9

No

Don’t lkdw’’ ?k6

IIITasing , 2. 0

87.9

Don’t lorow’: 4.1

6. Are there any organized programs for medical or therapeutic proposes--such as for the

rehabilitation of physical handicaps, mental disturbance, juvenile delinquency, or alcoholism--being

conducted in the wilderness this year?g

Response for 1987 (%I

Yes . . . . . . 12.1

No 86.3

Don’t.Ih;o’w’ ’ 1.6

Trend over past three vears (%)

Increasing . 5.1

Decreasing . . 0.0”

Same . 93.5

Don’t l&;ok’, 1.4

222
7. Are there any active cattle or sheep grazing allotments in the wilderness this year?

Response for 1987 (%I

Yes . . . . . . 35.2

No

Don’t’ knoi ’g8

Trend over past three years(%)

Increasing . 0.8

Decreasing . 6.5

Same

Don’t Low : k$’

8. Are there any active ‘surface or subsurface mining claims in the wilderness this year?

Response for 1987 (%I

Yes 11

No..:::: : &63

Don’t know 3.1 3,

Trend over past three years t%l

Increasing . . fi

::m:asmg ’ 92 8

Don’t l&o; : 3.1

9. Are there any active’ producing oil or natural gas wells in the wilderness this year?

ResDonse for 1987 (%)

Yes . . . . . . 0.6

No

Don’t* l&o; ’$’

Trend over nast three Years (%)

Increasing . . 0.6

Decreasing . . 0.2

Same 98.4

Don’t l;nb;v’: 0.8

10. Are there any active commercial outfitting or guiding services--such as hunting, fishing,

boating, horse packing, or air taxi--being conducted (permitted) in the wilderness this year?

ResDonse

Yes . . . . . . 43.8

No.. . . . . . 55.8

Don’t know 0.4

Trend ove past three years t%)

Increasingr . * 15.5

Decreasing . . 4.7

Same

Don’t I;nb;r’: :!b7

11. Is there any legislatively authorized non-recreational “subsistence” hunting, fishing, or gathering

permitted in the wilderness this year?

Response for 1987 (%) (%) Trend over past three years (%I

Yes . . . . . . 14.7

No.. . . . . . 83.8

Increasing . . 1.6

Don’t know . 1.4

I$C$raslng . . 0.2

Don’t ko;v’: ?i3

12. Are there any known or probable threatened and endangered species of plant or animal

protected in the wilderness?

ResDonse for 1987 (%)

Yes . . . . . . 58.7”

No.. . . . . . 33.9

Don’t know . 7.4

Tvoe of T & E s_pecies (o/o)

Plant only , , 11.5

Animal only 27.2

Both . . . , . . 20.0

Neither . . . . 41.3

223
13. Is there any habitat which is critical for the propagation--such as rearing, migration, or

wintering--of commercially important species of fish or wildlife--such as salmon, elk, or deer--in

the wilderness?

Response for 1987 (%)

Yes . . . . . . 38.413

Commercial species (%l

Fish only . . . 10.8

No.. . . . . . 57.1

Don’t know . 4.5

Wildlife-only 14.1

Both.. . . . . 13.5

Neither . . . . 61.6

14. Are there any’designated or probable cultural resource sites--such as prehistoric camp and

burial sites or historic cabins--protected in the wilderness?”

Response for 1987 (%I

Yes . . . . . . 72.4

No.. . . . . . 22.9

Don’t know . 4.7

CulturaI site type

Prehistoric only 17.4

Historic only 11.7

Both . , . . , , 43.4

Neither . . . 27.6

15. Are there any known or probable sites of specific religious or spiritual significance to Native

American or other groups in the wilderness?

Yes . . . . . . 20.0”

No.. . . . . . 71.8

Don’t know . 8.2

16. Are there any designated “research natural areas” in the wilderness?

Response for 1987 (%I

Yes . . . . . . 11.9

No . . . . . . . 85.7

Don’t know . 2.5

17. Are there any private land inholdings in the wilderness?

mnse for 1987 (%1

Yes . . . . . , 38.016

No.. . . . . . 60.9

Don’t know , 1.0

18. Would you estimate that the total recreational use in the wilderness this year is, or will be,

closer to 1000, 10000, or 1OOOOO recreation visitor days (RVDs)?

Response for 1987 C%)

1,000 RVDs 50.1

10,000 RVDs 39.1

100,000 RVDs 10.6

Don’t know . 0.2

Trend over past three Years (%I

Increasing , . 52.1”

D$r$sing . * 3.3

. 42.7

Don’t knbk’. 1.8

224
19. Is the public recreational use regulated--such as through permit systems, stay lengths, or

designated camp sites--in the wilderness this year?

Response for 1987 C%)

Yes . . . . . . 28.218

Trend ove east three years (%j

Increasingr . . 3.7

No.. . . . . . 71.6 Decreasing . . 1.6

Don’t know . 0.2 Same

Don’t kno;v’: it3

20. Are there any “significant” conflicts between recreational use and non-recreational uses--such as

preservation, scientific, education, cultural, subsistence, or therapeutic--in the wilderness this year?

&sponse for 1987 C%j

Yes . . . . . . 17.0

No . . . . . . . 82.8 :,

Don’t know . 0.2

Tre d ove past three years (%1

IncrZ?asingr , . 11.2

l3kc&ashg . . 2.2

84.5

Don’t knok’: 2.0

21. Is there legally authorized motorized access in the wilderness?

Resoonse for 1987 (%I

Yes . . . . . . 27.219

No . . . . . . . 71.4

Don’t know . 1.4

Type of motorized acces

Aircraft . . . , 3.7

Land or water 1.6

Both 7.8

Neither’ : : 1 : 69.7

Don’t know . 1.0

22. Are there any national recreational trails in the wilderness?

Response for 1987 (%I

Yes . . . . . . 17.820

No . . . . . . . 81.0

Don’t know . 1.2

23. Are there any darns, reservoirs, or water conveyances--such

the wilderness?

as ditches, canals, or pipelines--in

Response for 1987 f%)

Yes . . . . . . 15.7”

No.. . . . . . 83.0

Don’t know . 1.2

24. Are there any administrative structures--such as cabins or lookouts--in the wilderness?

Response for 1987 (%I

Yes . . . . . . 21.9

No.. . . . . . 78.1

Don’t know . 0.0

25. Are there any navigation or communication stations or equipment in the wilderness?

Resoonse for 1987 C%)

Yes . . . . . . 9.6

No . . . . . . . 89.8

Don’t know . 0.6

225
26. Are there any weather or snow monitoring stations or equipment in the wilderness?

&soonse for 1987 t%\

Yes . . . . . . 14.725

No.. . . . . . 81.6

Don’t know . 3.7

27. Are there any utilities--such as transmission lines or pipelines--in the wilderness?

28. Is there a completed and approved wilderness management plan for the wilderness?

No . : : : : : : 9i.o

Don’t know . 2.7

Response for 1987 (95)

Yes . . . . . . 38.2a

No.. . . . . . 61.6

Don’t know . 0.2

29. Is management zoning used--that is, division into different uses or capabilities--in the

wilderness?

Response for 1987 (%I

Yes . . . . . . 29.7*

No.. . . . . . 70.1

Don’t know . 0.2

30. Are quantifiable standards below which changes would be unacce table--such as standards

developed through the “limits of acceptable change” process-set for tRe wilderness?

Response for 1987 (%\

Yes . . . . . . 29.P

No.. . . . . . 70.3

Don’t know . 0.6

31. Is there a full-time person on your staff whose primary responsibility is wilderness management

this year?

&gQ,onse for 1987 MQ

Yes . . . . . . 26.0

No.. , . . , . 73.8

Don’t know . 0.2

32. Ate there any volunteers assisting in management this year?

Response for 1987 (%I

Yes . . . . . . 69.5

No ..a.... 30.5

Don’t know . 0.0

226
33. Did any of your employees

this year?

visit schools or other community programs to discuss wilderness

ResDonse for 1987 (%I

Yes . . . . . . 59.3%

No.. . . . . . 34.6

Don’t know . 6.1

34. Are there any wild and scenic rivers in the wilderness?

Response for 1987 (%I

Yes . . . . . . 8.2

No . . . . . . . 91.2

Don’t know . 0.6

35. Is any portion of the wilbemess located on an ocean coastline?

Response for l-987 C%)

Yes . . . . . , 1O.627

No.. . . . . . 89.4

Don’t know . 0.0

ENDNOTES

1. Th e auth ors w ould lik e to th ank th e Am enity Resource Valuation Project of th e US Forest

Se rvice’s R ock y Mountain Forest and R ange Expe rim ent Station in Fort Collins, Colorado for th eir

coope ration and use of facilities.

2. Survey results h ave been annotated w h e re th ey are open to possible inte rpretation.

3. M ay include som e routine w ild e rness resource m onitoring program s, especially air, w ate r

q uality, and acid rain stud ies.

4. M ay include routine w ild e rness visitor m onitoring program s.

5. D oes not include program s conducted outside th e w ild e rness.

6. Such program s are actively discouraged in m any w ild e rness areas because th ey are not

considered w ild erness-dependent activities.

7. Such program s are not conducted by agencies but by th e groups th em s elves.

8. Such program s are actively discouraged in m any w ild e rness areas because th ey are not

considered w ild erness-dependent activities.

9 . Such program s are actively discouraged in m any w ild e rness areas because th ey are not

considered w ild erness-dependent activities.

10. Th e num b er of allotm ents m ay not be decreasing but total anim al- unit- m onth s (AUM s) are

d ecreasing.

11. M ay include routine m aintenance of patented claim s.

227
12. Includes m igratory species and state designated species.

13. D e finitions of “critical” and “com m e rcially im portant” w e re subject to ve ry d iflerent

inte rpretations am ong agencies.

14. D oes not refe r solely to active m easures.

15. Actual total is ce rtainly h igh e r b ecause of poor inventories and reluctance of Native Am e rican

groups to d ivulge sensitive inform ation.

16. M ay include R atente d m ining claim s.

17. M ost com m only described as “sligh t”.

18. M ay include agency’s Code of Fede ral R egulations (CFR ) standards and special

adm inistrative ord ers. /

19 .

20.

21.

22.

23.

M ay include em e rgency uses for search and rescue.

Includes national scenic trails.

M ay include som e h istorical structures w h ich are no longe r m aintaine d .

Includes both tem porary and perm anent e quipm ent.

M ay include large r forest, -park , refuge, or d istrict m anagem ent plans. M any w ild e rness plans

w e re described as “in progress”.

24. M ay include standard Recreation Opportunity Spectrum (R OS) classifications in Forest Se rvice

w ild erness.

25. M any L& T (or com parable ) standards w e re described as “in progress. ”

26. Often in context of oth e r program about th e entire forest, park , refug

27. Actual lands below m ean h igh w ate r generally are prope rty of states.

*U.S. GOVERNMENT PRINTINCOFFICE:~ 9 8 9 -6 3 3 - 1 4 7/

228
I

-----_---___------------1

I

I Freilich, Helen R., camp. 1989. Wilderness benchmark 1988: I

I

I

Procbedings of the national wilderness colloquium: 1988 January

13-14; Tampa, FL. Gen. Tech. Rep. SE-51. Asheville, NC: U.S. I

I - Department of Agriculture, Forest Service, Southeastern Forest I

I

Experiment Station. 228 p.

I

I

Twenty papers addressing the wilderness resource and its

nonrecreational values and benefits to the American people are I

1 presented in six categories: Overview, Preservation Values, Scientific 1

I

Values, Education Values, Social Values, and Commercial Values. 1

]

Also presented, in an Appendix, are a short summary of the

discussions and the results of a national telephone survey.

I______________________J

Example for citing article in this proceedings:

Spray, Richard H.; Weingart, Paul D. 1989. The wilderness

environment: training wilderness managers. In: Freihch, Helen

R., camp. Wilderness benchmark 1988: Proceedings of the

national wilderness colloquium. 1988 January 13-14; Tampa, FL

Gen. Tech. Rep. SE-5 1. Asheville, NC: U.S. Department of

Agriculture, Forest Service, Southeastern Forest Experiment

Station:133-141.