by Daniel Pava, FAICP

When I was an idealistic teen in the early 1970s who supported most any environmental cause, one of my most favored poster quotes was that of Henry David Thoreau, “In Wildness is the Preservation of the World.” Many people then and even now think that the transcendentalist of Walden said, “In wilderness..” adding the “e” and “r” as in “error”.

Certainly, wildness can be found in the wilderness, but it can be found in more accessible places closer to where most of us live. I believe that this is particularly the case in our western states where much of the 1.8 billion acres of federal lands are situated; varying from about 35% in New Mexico to over 80% in Nevada.

Map of Federal Lands - National Atlas of the United States - http://nationalatlas.gov/printable/fedlands.html, "All Federal and Indian Lands"

Being an environmental planner, I am clearly aware that there are differences between wilderness and other wild areas and open spaces. Each has its place, so to speak, and each serves as a way to preserve the world.

The Wilderness Act of 1964 stated, “A wilderness, in contrast with those areas where man and his own works dominate the landscape, is hereby recognized as an area where the earth and its community of life are untrammeled by man, where man himself is a visitor who does not remain. An area of wilderness is further defined to mean in this Act an area of undeveloped Federal land retaining its primeval character and influence, without permanent improvements or human habitation…” The Act also established that such areas be 5,000 acres or more and have outstanding opportunities for solitude or a primitive and un-confined type of recreation, and may also contain ecological, geological, or other features of scientific, educational, scenic, or historical value.

“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 non-Indian was nature a “wilderness” and only to him was the land infested with “wild animals.” To us it was tame. The Earth was bountiful and we were surrounded with the blessings of the Great Mystery.”

— Chief Luther Standing Bear

*The Cliffs of Green River, Wyoming Territory - Thomas Moran; Cincinnati Art Museum*

If the Act was a painting, it would probably look like one of Thomas Moran’s romanticized depictions of the old wild west. When admiring such works, I often ask myself, “Where is anyone?” Native Americans were certainly living and affecting their environment long before European settlers came ashore. Chief Luther Standing Bear- of the great Oglala Nation- maybe said it best when he stated: “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 non-Indian was nature a “wilderness” and only to him was the land infested with “wild animals.” To us it was tame. The Earth was bountiful and we were surrounded with the blessings of the Great Mystery.”

Is access to the wild any less necessary than to “true” wilderness? Is what is wild merely a matter of perspective? Are there degrees of wildness that we can approach to preserve the world? I submit that all kinds of wildness are necessary no matter what your perspective, and that all kinds of wildness preserve the natural world and sustain humankind. A trek into a primeval forest, a light rail ride to the Rocky Mountain Arsenal wildlife refuge just outside Denver, or an afternoon hike along Rio Grande in Albuquerque are all wildness experiences.

Wallace Stegner's "Wilderness Letter“ of 1960, which was written to Congress in support of the Wilderness Act noted that, “What I want to speak for is not so much the wilderness uses, valuable as those are, but the wilderness idea, which is a resource in itself. Being an intangible and spiritual resource, it will seem mystical to the practical minded—but then anything that cannot be moved by a bulldozer is likely to seem mystical to them….We simply need that wild country available to us, even if we never do more than drive to its edge and look in. For it can be a means of reassuring ourselves of our sanity as creatures, a part of the geography of hope.” I’m certain many western planners and our constituents could agree with Stegner as they see familiar and treasured landscapes transformed into ranchette estates, walled and gated McMansions, look-alike big boxes and chain stores along strips in our small towns, and the like.

Surely, the words of Aldo Leopold writing in Sand County Almanac back in 1949 come to mind, “We abuse land because we regard it as a commodity belonging to us. When we see land as a community to which we belong, we may begin to use it with love and respect.”

“We abuse land because we regard it as a commodity belonging to us. When we see land as a community to which we belong, we may begin to use it with love and respect.”

— Aldo Leopold

Thus, I am reminded how natural settings often influence the appearance of our western settlements, towns, and cities. Picture the gentle adobe hues of historic Santa Fe, the riparian ribbon of Albuquerque’s Bosque, the interplay of mountains and plains in Denver, or the wide open horizons of surrounding towns in the Dakotas.

When reviewing cases as a planning commissioner in Santa Fe, we are told that the proposed project is either in the “public interest” or it is not. One test for approval is whether the project upholds the public health, safety, and welfare. Well, that’s a moving target these days! Are we in favor or against a specific project because it is sustainable or not? Sometimes while meeting the details of compliance, the project is still completely inappropriate because of its context and intensity. Sometimes, the devil is in the design: a large lot single-family development abutting public lands may be antithetical to maintaining your community’s physical, cultural, and socio-economic goals; whereas a conservation subdivision might allow both housing and the western landscape to coexist. Sometimes, modifying signs and lighting can go a long way to maintaining local character.

Recently, while being fortunate to sail into many ports in the eastern Mediterranean, I observed that these cities of antiquity each had unifying features that seemed to complement the surrounding landscape. They both fit in and defined their surroundings. I also noticed that in most cases, this harmony was disrupted by at least one very out of place modern structure, be it an ugly tall hotel or office building, a telecommunications tower, or something similar.

During my career as a planner in city, county, and federal arenas, and as a planning commissioner, I had opportunities to influence public open space decisions. Sometimes these instances were direct such as park design and trail locations. Other times influence was indirect and manifested by the outcomes of decisions about master plans, land use categories, subdivision design, landfill locations, and the like.

Planners in the west need to consider how we work with others to establish, maintain, and provide access to wildness – be it an urban park or a nearby nature preserve, or federal lands close to the boundaries of growing western communities. In this way, we enable the ability to experience the outdoors, be it simply wild and nearby, a bit farther afield, or a wilderness we may never get to see but is there just the same.

About the Author

Dan Pava is an environmental planner and a Fellow of the American Institute of Certified Planners. He retired from Los Alamos National Laboratory in New Mexico in 2020 after serving 30 years. Dan also worked for cities and counties preparing comprehensive and general plans. He served on the Sustainable Santa Fe Commission and on the city’s planning commission. Pava is on the board and was president of Western Planner, and a former president of the APA New Mexico chapter. He holds masters degrees in community and regional planning, and public administration from the University of New Mexico. Currently, he also serves on the Santa Fe Planning Commission and the board of Temple Beth Shalom. Pava and his very patient wife Carol, and his daughter Shoshana, live in Santa Fe, along with their loyal Akita, Bella.

Wilderness and Wildness – An Environmental Planner’s Perspective