Re-considering my reactions to re-wilding

Recent travels, meetings and assignments have got me thinking hard about why I find re-wilding conversations so difficult.

I've spent a good part of my life bringing more nature into man-made landscapes, and ensuring that forestry practice and policy enhances the ecology of a place. My journey has taken me from resisting flawed economic forestry models, to re-designing plantations, to over-seeing sustainability certification and designing regulation policies - all because I passionately believe that helping nature to flourish alongside humanity is a good thing. So a few years ago I was surprised to find myself getting a bit cross reading George Monbiot's book 'Feral', and that the subsequent debate and discussion made me very uncomfortable.... and quite angry.

An event at Windsor Castle last month threw me in a room with vocal and articulate re-wilding activists, enthusiasts and supporters. I felt like an old cynic and that I had to stand up for economically productive land use. What was going on? Why was I so unsettled by newly passionate activists advocating for the use of ecological values and principles in how we manage our land? This should be a hallelujah moment as kindred spirits emerge. Instead my instinct has been to argue against these new 'spokespeople' for nature, even though I agree with a lot of what they say. I'm using this blog to un-pack what's going on for me, understand my emotional response a bit better and see what insights it can offer.

"A panacea for the climate, nature, people and the economy is as rare as a functioning magic wand"

My first reaction was probably driven by my deep-seated intolerance of hyperbole and bullshit. Over-selling of the re-wilding concept is rife, and is being turbo-charged by Twitter-debate and social media. We need a super-sized and diverse toolbox of solutions for the ecological and climate crises. Sometimes the tool for helping one also helps the other - but not always. A panacea for the climate, nature, people and the economy is as rare as finding a functioning magic wand in your toolbox, so my response to the emerging re-wilding evangelists was probably similar to my thoughts about magic wands: great for inspirational stories, but too new-agey for my taste and I wouldn't rely on one in a crisis.

As voices for re-wilding become louder and more insistent, the more my inner sceptic / scientist seeks the counterfactual and feels ignored. My family and friends would probably say that this is just down to my bloody-minded and argumentative nature (they may be onto something there), but there is more to it. Enabling more natural processes to function in our landscapes can make things more resilient and sustainable, and seems to improve our general well-being. I am a huge advocate of natural flood management for example - the evidence is clear that we often don't need over-engineered, over-concreted solutions downstream if we take care of things upstream. But re-wilding advocates can often get carried away, taking a specific example and extrapolating without pausing for breath, reflection or wider consideration (eg. the wonderful Knepp estate is economically viable because it is a rarity and lots of people visit - 100 Knepps in the South of England could not operate on the same model). We could learn more here from the climate debate: we can't afford to wait for all the science that might prove things one way or the other, but a bit more 'confident humility' from re-wilding commentators and a recognition of the uncertainty in their arguments would go a long way to persuading people like me.

"...a bit more 'confident humility' from re-wilding commentators and a recognition of the uncertainty in their arguments would go a long way"

The language around re-wilding compounds any difficulty I might have with its evangelists. The new word 're-wilding' is brilliant for communicating to a new audience. From a public engagement perspective it ticks all the boxes: anglo-saxon root, 'active', visual and open to wide interpretation. From a scientific and technical perspective it's a nightmare: subjective, vague and ambiguous. As I am a technical professional I'm sure you can understand how this presses my buttons. I can't help but question the usefulness of a term that is used for everything from roadside verge-management (see picture above) to landscape change over thousands of hectares. As a bit of a language nerd, it's been fascinating watching how this new word bounces around the internet, adapting, morphing and evolving as it goes: deified and demonised by different communities as it develops. And it becomes a whole new level of interesting when you look at it in the international context. I am currently supporting a 12-country forest-habitat restoration project which I think is totally within the scope of even a narrow definition of re-wilding, and I have yet to hear the word used amongst the international team of over 100 technical and scientific professionals. This may be down to the technical difficulties of the word, or the challenge of translation between several languages (I suspect both are at play), but this doesn't feel right. There is a problem then with the language - 're-wilding' is used both to include activities which are probably only tangentially related, and at the same time is not being used amongst professionals who are actually getting on with the technical practice of real-world re-wilding.

"How dare they!" screams the little voice in my head...

If these first three aspects (over-selling the concept, evangelism and immature language) are about the debate, the next one is about me. I am an engaged, open-minded and progressive member of the forestry profession, with 30 years or so of experience. These new people and ideas are trampling all over my turf (so to speak), and not recognising what me and my peers have been banging on about for years. "How dare they!" screams the little voice in my head... immediately falling into the trap of lack of humility etc that was winding me up in the first place. A coaching conversation with myself and a bit of journalling clarified this uncomfortable truth: my expertise is feeling threatened, so part of my reaction has been defensive. I'm also deeply uncomfortable with how much aggressive, chest-thumping confrontation seems to be the lingua franca of the debate - as a time-served pragmatist I feel attacked for not being fully signed up to the re-wilding gospel, and so I get defensive. As I say, these two aspects are my issue to handle, and it's been helpful to understand these emotions underlying my response so I can keep that little voice under control and really listen to what people are saying as I engage a bit more and help others to meet in the middle.

"Much of the re-wilding comment and chat sounds like it values nature over people....these are value-judgements that are important to me, so I listen with my ears pricked, primed to take offence..."

The final part of the puzzle of my response is political - or more accurately it's about conflicting values. At their root, most disagreements or conflicts are about mis-communication, different perceptions of 'truth', or using different values to make judgements. My concern here is with contrasting values. Much of the re-wilding comment and chat sounds like it values nature over people, and environmental goods and services over socio-economic goods and services. It can also impinge on the rights and responsibilities associated with land ownership, and the balance of local needs and wishes. All of these are value-judgements that are important to me, so I listen with my ears pricked, primed to take offence. Watching the discussions play out in England and Scotland I've seen the Twitter-storm erupt as southern sensibilities are applied to northern landscapes (often making sweeping assumptions about the people who live and work there), with each 'side' fiercely believing that their values system is universal. Unlike England, the discussion in Scotland (where I am based) is taking place within a mature system that has long been grappling with difficult land-use questions such as land rights and responsibilities. There are examples of considerable sensitivity to local community aspirations - such as the Trees for Life Dundreggan re-wilding centre and Cairngorms Connect. However, the #GreenLaird debate is also raging, as new and existing land-owners (usually wealthy, often from 'elsewhere') make changes in the name of re-wilding which are seen by some to undermine the prospects of local communities. The excellent Scottish Land Commission is unpacking a lot of this debate through the lens of natural capital and ecosystem services - technical language that I find much easier to use in practice but admittedly a tough call when trying to engage a wider audience.

"Land-use is always political, and its value is subjective and rarely captured in price."

The re-wilding movement brings new energy, language and people to land-use conversations. This is making it more accessible and exciting to many - particularly younger people. I am excited about this change and all the new minds, innovations and insights it brings to 'my' profession. But, I am also worried that re-wilding risks being over-sold as a panacea, by over-zealous activists who are using language in ways that can exclude, and that doesn't help practitioners, scientists and policy-makers to make things happen. As an established 'expert' in land-use I feel a bit threatened by this new kid on the block, and I need to get over that so I don't shut down or avoid potentially interesting and valuable conversations. But most of all, we should all remember that land-use is always political, and its value is subjective and rarely captured in price. Without a common measure of value, all of us engaging in this fascinating subject have to be super-aware of the assumptions we make about each others' values and priorities.