international journal of wilderness, vol 03 no 3, september 1997

I N T E R N A T I O N A L

J O U R N A L OF W IL D E R N E S SSeptember 1997 Volume 3, Number 3

FEATURES

3 RENEWING THE WILDERNESS CHALLENGE

by Alan Ewert, Acting Managing Editor

4 SOUL OF THE WILDERNESS

“With Only the Howl of a Timber Wolf …”by Daniel L. Dustin

7 ANTARCTIC TOURISM

A Frontier for Wilderness Managementby Gordon Cessford

STEWARDSHIP

12 SOCIAL AND ECOLOGICAL MANIFESTATIONS

IN THE DEVELOPMENT OF THE WILDERNESS

AREA CONCEPT IN NEW ZEALAND

by John Shultis

EDUCATION AND COMMUNICATION

17 MAINTAINING WILDLIFE NATURALNESS

IN WILDERNESS

by Dick Carter

SCIENCE AND RESEARCH

22 ENVIRONMENTAL MANAGEMENT FOR

ANTARCTIC WILDERNESS

by Paul R. Dingwall

27 ANTARCTICA’S CHALLENGE

FOR THE 2 1ST CENTURY

Managing Cumulative Environmental Impactsby Janet C. Dalziell and Maj De Poorter

INTERNATIONAL PERSPECTIVES

31 ENVIRONMENTAL MONITORING

Measuring the Damageby David W. H. Walton

35 CONCEPTS OF WILDERNESS

IN THE ANTARCTIC

by Rosamunde Codling

WILDERNESS DIGEST

40 LETTERS TO THE EDITOR

41 BOOK REVIEWS

by James R. Fazio, Book Review Editor

44 ANNOUNCEMENTS AND

WILDERNESS CALENDAR

46 SOUTH AFRICAN DIGEST

48 REMEMBERING OUR FRIENDS AND HEROS

by Vance G. Martin, Executive Editor(International)

Front cover photo of Antarctica, the world’s largestwilderness by Roland Kreher. Inset photo of emperorpenguin.

Special thanks to guest editors for this issue, Paul R.Dingwall and Gordon Cessford, Department of NatureConservation, New Zealand.

2 THE IN TERNA TIONAL JOU RNAL OF WILDERNESS Volume 3, Number 3

EXECUTIVE EDITORSAlan W. Ewert, University of Northern British Columbia, Prince George B.C., Canada

Vance G. Martin, WILD Foundation/ICEC, Ojai, Calif., USAAlan E. Watson, Aldo Leopold Wilderness Research Institute, Missoula, Mont., USA

James R. Fazio, University of Idaho, Moscow, Idaho, USAMargaret Petersen, USDA Forest Service, Portland, Oreg. USA

ACTING MANAGING EDITORAlan W. Ewert, University of Northern British Columbia, Prince George B.C., Canada

MANAGING EDITOR (ON SABBATICAL)John C. Hendee, Director, University of Idaho Wilderness Research Center, Moscow, Idaho

PRODUCTION EDITORMichelle S. Mazzola, Conservation District Manager, State of Washington

ASSOCIATE EDITORSGreg Aplet, The Wilderness Society, Denver, Colo., Hugh Barr, Federated Mountain Clubs of New Zealand, Wellington, NZ, Liz Close, U.S. Forest Service,Missoula, Mont., Dave Cockrell, University of Southern Colorado, Pueblo, Colo., Dave Cole, Aldo Leopold Wilderness Research Institute, Missoula, Mont.,Don Duff, U.S. Forest Service, Salt Lake City, Utah, William Forgey, Medical Doctor, Crown Point, Ind., Nancy Green, U.S. Forest Service, Washington, D.C.,Glen Haas, Colorado State University, Fort Collins, Colo., Dave Harmon, Bureau of Land Management, Portland, Oreg., Steve Hollenhorst, West VirginiaUniversity, Morgantown, W. Va., Jon Jarvis, Wrangell-St. Elias National Park, Glennallen, Ark., Kris Kennett, British Columbia Parks, Williams Lake, B.C.,Canada, Ed Krumpe, University of Idaho, Moscow, Idaho, David Lime, University of Minnesota, St. Paul, Minn., Les Malloy, Department of Conservation,Wellington, NZ, Bob Manning, University of Vermont, Burlington, Vt., Joe Mazzoni, U.S. Fish & Wildlife Service, Albuquerque, N. Mex., Michael McCloskey,Sierra Club, Washington, D.C., Richard Meganck, United Nations Environment Programme, Osaka, Japan, Jonathan Miller, Environment Australia, ChrisMonz, National Outdoor Leadership School, Lander, Wyo., Bob Muth, University of Massachusetts, Amherst, Mass., Connie Myers, Arthur Carhart Wilder-ness Training Center, Huson, Mont., Roderick Nash, University of California, Santa Barbara, Calif., Max Oelschlaeger, University of North Texas, Corrales,N. Mex., Ian Player, South Africa National Parks Board and The Wilderness Foundation, Howick, Natal RSA, Marilyn Riley, Wilderness Transitions and theWilderness Guides Council, Ross, Calif., Joe Roggenbuck, Virginia Polytechnic Institute, Blacksburg, Va., Holmes Rolston III, Colorado State University, Ft.Collins, Colo., Ron Rutledge, U.S. Forest Service, Fort St. John, B.C., Canada, Mitch Sakofs, Outward Bound, Garrison, N.Y., Susan Sater, U.S. Forest Service,Portland, Oreg., Tod Schimelpfenig, National Outdoor Leadership School, Lander, Wyo., Alan Schmierer, National Park Service, San Francisco, Calif., WonSop Shin, Chungbuk National University, Chungbuk, Korea, Jerry Stokes, U.S. Forest Service, Washington, D.C., Ralph Swain, U.S. Forest Service, Missoula,Mont., Jay Watson, The Wilderness Society, San Francisco, Calif., Pamela Wright, Simon Fraser University, Burnaby, B.C., Canada, Tom Zimmerman, NationalPark Service, Boise, Idaho, Franco Zunino, Wilderness Associazione Italiana, Villavallelonga, Italy

International Journal of Wilderness

International Journal of Wilderness (IJW) published three issues in 1996(May, August, and December) and quarterly issues in 1997 (March, June,September, and December). IJW is a not-for-profit publication.

Manuscripts to: University of Idaho, Wilderness Research Center, Moscow,ID 83844-1144, USA. Telephone: (208) 885-2267; fax: (208) 885-2268;e-mail: [email protected].

Business Management and Subscriptions: WILD Foundation, Inter-national Center for Earth Concerns, 2162 Baldwin Road, Ojai, CA 93023,USA. Fax: (805) 649-1757; e-mail: [email protected].

Subscription rates (per volume calendar year): Subscription costs are inU.S. dollars only—$30 for individuals and $50 for organizations/librar-ies. Subscriptions from Canada and Mexico add $10; outside NorthAmerica add $20. Back issues are available for $15.

All materials printed in the International Journal of Wilderness copyright ©1997 by the International Wilderness Leadership (WILD) Foundation. In-dividuals, and nonprofit libraries acting for them, are permitted to makefair use of material from the journal. ISSN # 1086-5519.

Submissions: Contributions pertinent to wilderness worldwide aresolicited, including articles on wilderness planning, management,and allocation strategies; wilderness education, including descrip-tions of key programs using wilderness for personal growth, therapy,and environmental education; wilderness-related science and researchfrom all disciplines addressing physical, biological, and social aspects ofwilderness; and international perspectives describing wilderness world-wide. Articles, commentaries, letters to the editor, photos, book reviews,announcements, and information for the wilderness digest are encour-aged. A complete list of manuscript submission guidelines is availablefrom the editors.

Artwork: Submission of artwork and photographs with captions areencouraged. Photo credits will appear in a byline; artwork may be signedby the author.

Reprints: Manuscript reprints are available from the managing editor’soffice for a nominal charge.

Printed on recycled paper.

SPONSORING ORGANIZATIONS• Aldo Leopold Wilderness Research Institute • International Center for Earth Concerns (ICEC) • InternationalWilderness Leadership (WILD) Foundation • National Outdoor Leadership School (NOLS) • Outward Bound • TheWilderness Society • University of Idaho Wilderness Research Center • University of Montana School of Forestry,Wilderness Institute • University of Northern British Columbia (Faculty of Natural Resources and EnvironmentalStudies) • U.S.D.A. Forest Service • U.S.D.I. Bureau of Land Management • U.S.D.I. Fish and Wildlife Service • U.S.D.I.National Park Service • Wilderness Education Association • Wilderness Foundation (South Africa) • Wilderness Inquiry• Wilderness Leadership School (South Africa) • Wilderness Watch

The International Journal of Wilderness links wilderness professionals, scientists, educators, environmentalists, and interestedcitizens worldwide with a forum for reporting and discussing wilderness ideas and events; inspirational ideas; planning, management,

and allocation strategies; education; and research and policy aspects of wilderness stewardship.

THE IN TERNA TIONAL JOU RNAL OF WILDERNESS Volume 3, Number 3 3

FEA TU RE

WITH JOHN HENDEE ON SABBATICAL, it is withgreat pleasure that I assume the responsibilities ofacting managing editor for the International Journal

of Wilderness. Let me also welcome Woody Hesselbarth andsay good-bye to Dr. Jim Fazio. Woody comes to us from theU.S. Forest Service (USFS) and will be assuming responsibilityfor the Wilderness Digest section of the IJW. We welcome Woodyand look forward to the information he provides. Jim Faziohas very capably managed the IJW’s Book Review section, andwe are indeed grateful for his time and expertise in puttingthat effort into operation. Jim will be stepping down from thatposition to assume other responsibilities, and IJW will be seek-ing to fill in behind him. I would also like to extend an enthu-siastic welcome to our new executive editor for our Stewardshipsection, Margaret Petersen. Margaret is a senior executive witha strong wilderness background, coming to us from the USFSin Portland, Oregon. We look forward to utilizing Margaret’smany talents to complement the IJW.

Last spring I had the opportunity to attend the 3rd Interna-tional Conference of Science and the Management of ProtectedAreas. During that conference it became crystal clear to me thatthe threats to wilderness and other protected lands are not di-minishing, but rather are growing more prominent. While it istrue that society has now begun to recognize the value of wilder-ness in all its many forms and varieties, the new and emergingthreats facing our protected lands tend to be more diffuse andinsidious. Many would agree with providing more housing andamenities for our various societies. Our colleagues in the extrac-tion industries have become more adept at promoting develop-ment under the flag of minimum disturbance and impact.

The wilderness move-ment across the globe hasmade tremendous progressby instilling in our citi-zenry a sense of awe andrespect for wildlands andundeveloped areas. Readabout wilderness in thecoldest, iciest, windiest,highest, and remotest ofthe worlds continents,Antarctica, our featurecountry for this issue. Fiveauthors have providedtheir unique perspectiveson this great place.

Let us not lose sight of the values wilderness and otherprotected lands bestow on our society. Part of these values havenow been quantified by Robert Costanza, et al., in the May 15issue of Nature. Costanza and his colleagues suggest that glo-bally, nature provides services to humankind worth approxi-mately 33 trillion dollars (U.S.) per year. Whatever the economicvalue, we know that wilderness provides all of us with muchbeyond dollars and cents. Our challenge will be not to losesight of that fact and to continue to strive to protect our wilder-ness resources. While cherishing our past, our gaze needs tobe focused on our desired future.

As Aldo Leopold once said, “The richest values of wilder-ness lie not in the days of Daniel Boone, nor even in the present,but rather in the future.” IJW

RENEWING THE WILDERNESS CHALLENGEBY ALAN EWERT, ACTING MANAGING EDITOR

IJW acting managing editor Alan Ewert.

6 T H W O R L D W IL D E R N E S S C O N G R E S S P O S T P O N E DThe chairman of the 6th World Wilderness Congress (Mr. M. A. Partha Sarathy) has announced through the WILD Foundation that the 6thWWC will be postponed for 12 months. This unanticipated decision is the result of recent political and economic changes within India.An unexpected vote of no confidence in the government of Prime Minister Gowda has resulted in political and economic uncertainty thatwill likely last until the next general election. Anew government has been formed under Prime Minister Gujral, and the dates for nationaland state elections are being determined.

The 6th WWC Planning Committee in India was reluctant to make this decision, but acted in the best interests of WWC sponsors,speakers, and delegates. According to Vance Martin, president of the WILD Foundation at the International Center for Earth Concerns,“Our most important goal is that the wilderness and wildland objectives of the WWC have maximum impact and effectiveness. Thischange supported that goal.”

The new date for the 6th WWC is the end of October 1998. New brochures will be issued in due course. In its announcement, theWILD Foundation also emphasized that increasing interest by media outlets in the work and objectives of the WWC will be a new andimportant expansion of the 6th WWC when it meets next year. For a full copy of the announcement and upated 6th WWC information,contact Vance Martin on e-mail, [email protected], or Partha Sarathy in India, partha@giasbg01 .vsnl.net.in.


ITH ONLY THE HOWL OF A TIMBER WOLF … ”What is the meaning of this line? What doesthe howl of a timber wolf tell us about nature,

FEA TU RE

SOUL OF THE WILDERNESS“With Only the Howl of a Timber Wolf...”

BY DANIEL L. DUSTIN

Were you ever out in the Greot Alone, when the moon was awful clear,And the icy mountains hemmed you in with a silence you most could hear;With only the howl of a timber wolf, and you camped there in the cold,A half-dead thing in a stark, dead world, clean mad for the muck called gold;While high overhead, green, yellow and red, the North Lights swept in bars?—Then you’ve a hunch what the music meant … hunger and night and stars.

—From Robert Service’s “The Shooting of Dan McGrew”

own question by suggesting that the extirpation of the wolfsymbolizes the destruction of the American wilderness, the clos-ing of the American frontier. According to Lopez, it was thetransformation of wildlands into cultivated ones, that markedthe “progress” of American civilization. Wolves were to wilder-ness as cattle and sheep were to farms and ranches. Neithercould fare well in the absence of the other. As historian RoderickNash concluded, “In the morality play of westward expansion,wilderness was the villain, and the pioneer, as hero, relished itsdestruction. The transformation of wilderness into civilizationwas the reward for his sacrifices, the definition of his achieve-ment and the source of his pride.”

It was only when the end of wilderness and the end of thewolf were at hand that voices were raised in opposition tocivilization’s relentless march forward. Much in the same waythat Leopold saw something that unnerved him in the dyingfierce green fire of the wolf’s eyes, so too did some Americansbegin to see something that unnerved them in the disappear-ance of wilderness. What was that something? What promptedHenry David Thoreau to proclaim, “In wilderness is the pres-ervation of the world”? And what prompted John Muir to fighthis last breath to save Hetch Hetchy? What was it they under-stood that so many others didn’t and still don’t?

The Wolf Is an Indicator SpeciesThe answer, it seems to me, must be in that same revelationthat came to Leopold in the middle of this century. The answermust be in what he saw in the wolf’s eyes. Distilled into thatone dramatic moment was the culmination of a lifetime of learn-ing about the wolfs place at the apex of the biotic pyramid, alarge carnivore at the top of a diverse food chain that had takenmillennia to unfold in its complexity. Leopold recognized, asdid the poet Robinson Jeffers when he said, “What but thewolf’s tooth whittled so fine the fleet limbs of the antelope,”that the wolf’s presence symbolized a healthy, symbiotic natureand, conversely, that its absence foretold of a natural world in

“Wabout ourselves, about the condition of the world? In A SandCountry Almanac, Aldo Leopold writes:

A deep chesty bawl echoes from rimrock to rimrock, rollsdown the mountain, and fades into the far blackness of thenight. It is an outburst of wild, defiant sorrow and ofcontempt for all the adversities of the world.

Every living thing (and perhaps many a dead one aswell) pays heed to that call. To the deer it is a reminder ofthe way of all flesh, to the pine a forecast of midnight scufflesand of blood upon the snow, to the coyote a promise ofgleanings to come, to the cowman a threat of red ink at thebank, to the hunter a challenge of fang against bullet. Yetbehind these obvious and immediate hopes and fears therelies a deeper meaning, known only to the mountain itself.Only the mountain has lived long enough to listenobjectively to the howl of a wolf.

This, then, is our challenge: to ponder what Leopold’sbiographer, Susan Flader, calls the “hidden meaning in the howlof the wolf.” What is it that the mountain knows about thewolf’s howl that we do not? Why is it that when Leopold onceshot a wolf and then watched “a fierce green fire dying in hereyes,” his worldview changed? What did he understand at thatprecise moment about what is lost to the world in the absenceof wolves? And what did he then begin to understand aboutwhat the world gains when wolves reappear?

The End of Wilderness?In Of Wolves and Men, Barry Lopez writes of the history of theeradication of wolves in the United States outside of Alaska.He asks the question: “When a man cocked a rifle and aimed ata wolf’s head, what was he trying to kill?” Lopez answers his


distress. To Leopold, the howl of a wolfwas reassurance that everything was as itshould be, that everything was in itsplace. That, in his mind, was the hiddenmeaning in the howl of the wolf.

Plain Member and CitizenBut to suggest that Leopolds insight waslimited to an acknowledgment of the wolfas an indicator species, does an injustice,I think, to the depth of his soul search.Of more telling significance is what elseLeopold must have come to grips withwhen confronting his own role and, in alarger sense, humankinds role in jeopar-dizing the wolf and ultimately the bal-ance of nature. Leopold must haveexperienced the guilt that comes with ac-cepting responsibility for disrupting na-tures delicate balance. These feelings, inturn, must have prompted him to rethinkand subsequently redefine the role of ourspecies from conqueror of the land-com-munity to plain member and citizen ofit. Leopold must have felt awful—that is,full of awe—when facing up to all thathe had yet to learn about nature’s work-ings. Fortunately for us, he sorted thesefeelings out eventually in A Sand CountyAlmanac, a book that still, almost 50 yearslater, is considered the bible of the envi-ronmental movement.

Of What Use Is aGuilty Conscience?It is not particularly fashionable to feelguilty about much these days. Guiltdoesn’t get us anywhere, people say It’sunnecessarily burdensome. Better topurge ourselves of the unwelcome bag-gage. Better to leave it behind. I wonderabout that. So too does WislawaSzymborska, the Polish writer and 1996Nobel Peace Prize winner for literature,in her poem “In Praise of Feeling BadAbout Yourself.”

The buzzard never says it is toblame.

The panther wouldn’t know whatscruples mean.

When the piranha strikes, it feels noshame.

If snakes had hands, they’d claimtheir hands were clean.

A jackal doesn’t understandremorse.

Lions and lice don’t waiver in theircourse.

Why should they, when they knowthey’re right?

Though hearts of killer whales mayweigh a ton,

In every other way they’re light.

On this third planet of the sunAmong the signs of bestialityA clear conscience is Number One.

What Szymborska compels us tothink about is what separates our spe-cies from the rest, what separates us fromthe rest, what distinguishes us. Her an-swer is clear. Guilt is a reminder that wehumans are endowed with a conscience,a conscience that all too often has notbeen our guide. Feeling guilty is healthyfeedback for a species that has an extraor-dinary capacity to effect change. It is re-straining.

To speak of restraint is to usher usinto the ethical realm, a realm alien tothe likes of lions and tigers and bears.For ethics are a decidedly human en-deavor; the exercising of free will, thedistinguishing of right from wrong, theworking out of what should and shouldnot be done.

Ethics are also a work in progress.How we should conduct ourselves in re-lation to a world of living, breathing oth-ers is and always will be our principalhomework. Stewing over such things,worrying about such things, feeling guiltyabout such things, reassures us that weare humane beings after all. Feeling oth-erwise, I fear, would make us less so.

We AreNature Watching NatureAs we approach the 21st century, the wil-derness of which Thoreau, Muir,Leopold, Lopez, Nash, and others havewritten is most assuredly dwindling. In-deed, in his book The End of Nature, BillMcKibben argues persuasively that thereis no place on Earth that has not felt insome way the imprint of the human hand.Whether you agree or disagree withMcKibben, or whether or not you findthe disappearance of wilderness trou-

bling, I think we might all agree that wil-derness has played a significant role inthe unfolding of the American experi-ence. “All America lies at the end of thewilderness road,” said historian T. K.Whipple, “and our past is not a dead pastbut still lives on in us. ... Our forebearshad civilization inside themselves, thewild outside. We live in the civilizationthey created, but within us the wilder-ness still lingers. What they dreamed, welive; and what they lived, we dream.”

As I have written elsewhere, “Themost significant thing about the Ameri-can wilderness is that it is free. It is thatplace where we escape the bonds of so-cial convention. It is that place where,unshackled, we recast ourselves each inour own fashion. It is that place wherewe build anew.” Wilderness, in the wordsof Bob Marshall, “provides the ultimatedelight because it combines the thrills ofjeopardy and beauty It is the last standfor that glorious adventure into the physi-cally unknown ... .”

Safeguarding what is left of America’swilderness is the right thing to do, I think.Not only for its scientific, aesthetic, andrecreational value, but as testimony to thepossibility for human restraint and ethi-cal modesty, as a sign of compassion forour fellow mortals. In this regard, I amtaken with environmental philosopherMax Oelschlaeger’s proposition that hu-mankind may be nature s way of keep-ing track of itself. The idea that naturecould evolve a self-reflective organismthat has the capacity to step outside it-self, to reflect on its circumstances, andto change its ways when necessary, iswonderfully inviting to me. Could it ac-tually be, as Oelschlaeger speculates, thatwe are nature watching nature?

We are at a critical juncture in defin-ing the role of our species in shapingthe future. We can continue indulgingour appetites for more physical goods.We can continue our consumptive pat-terns. We can continue to make ourpresence felt. Or we can back off a bit,exercise restraint, and extend ethicalconsideration outward to other people,to other living things, and ultimately tothe Earth in its entirety. I would like tothink that we have the capacity to choosethe latter path, and recent events makeme cautiously optimistic.


According to newspaper accounts,U.S. Secretary of the Interior Bruce Babbitthad tears in his eyes when he assisted inthe reintroduction of gray wolves into theYellowstone ecosystem. A grown man. Canyou believe it? I wonder what got into him?

Were they tears of guilt for being amember of the species most responsiblefor the extirpation of the wolf? Were theytears of joy for being able to right wrongs,

to correct injustices, to make injuredthings whole? Was he moved by the senseof privilege and obligation that comeswith the recognition of our human capa-bility to mend consciously the errors ofour ways? Were they tears of delight,humility, or awe, in having helped reig-nite a fierce green fire in the eyes of ananimal, a species, an ecosystem? Werethey tears, then, of transformation? Do

you think Secretary Babbitt came to un-derstand, as all of us hopefully will some-day in our own way, the hidden meaningin the howl of the wolf? IJW

DANIEL L. DUSTIN is a faculty member in theDepartment of Health, Physical Education andRecreation, Florida International University,Miami, Florida, 33124 USA. Telephone:(941)625-3346.

REFERENCESDustin, D. 1997. With only the howl of a timber

wolf. The J. B. Nash Scholar Lecturepresented to the American Association forLeisure and Recreation at the AmericanAlliance for Health, Physical Education,Recreation and Dance Convention in St.Louis, Missouri on March 21.

————-. 1993. The wilderness within: reflectionson a 100 mile run. In The Wilderness Within:Journeys in Self Discovery. San Diego: Institutefor Leisure Behavior, San Diego StateUniversity, 130–145.

Flader, S. 1974. Thinking Like a Mountain: AldoLeopold and the Evolution of on EcologicalAttitude Toward Deer, Wolves and Forests.Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 2.

Leopold, A. 1949. A Sand County Almanac.New York: Oxford University Press, 129.

————-. 1944. Thinking like a mountain.Holograph, April 1, 3 pp., General Files—Aldo Leopold, Series 9/25/10-6 Box 18,University of Wisconsin Division ofArchives.

Lopez, B. 1978. Of Wolves and Men. NewYork: Charles Scribner’s Sons, 138, 269.

Marshall, R. 1937. The universe of the wildernessis vanishing. Nature, April, 236.

McKibben, W. 1989. The End of Nature. NewYork: Random House.

Nash, R. 1967. Wilderness and the AmericanMind. New Haven, Conn.: Yale UniversityPress, 24–25.

Oelschlaeger, M. 1991. The Idea ofWilderness: From Prehistory to the Age ofEcology. New Haven, Conn.: YaleUniversity Press, 350.

Service, R. 1 907. The shooting of Dan McGrew.In The Best of Robert Service. New York:Dodd, Mead & Company, 12–15.

Szymborska, W. 1995. In praise of feeling badabout yourself. In View With a Grain ofSand. New York: Harcourt Brace &Company, 124.

Thoreau, H. 1893. Walking. In Excursions: TheWritings of Henry David Thoreau (11 vols.)Boston: Riverside edition, 275.

Whipple, T. 1943. Study Out the Land. Berkeley:University of California Press, 65.


DEBATE OVER WHETHER ANTARCTIC TOURISM ISGOOD OR BAD IS NOT MUCH HELP. It is interna-tionally accepted as a legitimate activity, Antarctic tour-

ist numbers are growing, and recently even a comprehensive Ant-arctic tourism guidebook has been published (Rubin 1996). All thesigns show that Antarctic tourism is here to stay. Now the importantdiscussion must focus on how tourism can be encouraged to oper-ate in ways that minimize disturbance and further enhance the wil-derness and scientific values already attributed to Antarctica. Thismay require determining how tourism activities take place on-site,promoting better interactions between tourism and the operationof scientific programs and stations, and identifying ways to enhancethe experiences of tourists so they become stronger advocates forAntarctic conservation and science after their return home. To gaina perspective on how this could occur, it is helpful first to under-stand the current features of Antarctic tourism and tourists.

A visit to Antarctica is a unique and wonderful experience.Understanding Antarctica will tell us much more about the globalprocesses affecting the world environment and our place in it, and aspecial regime of international cooperation is required to manageour interactions with Antarctica—it is not “owned” by anyone. Fol-lowing is an Antarctic tourists response, when asked the main thingsshe would tell other people about her Antarctic experience. It cap-tures some of the key issues about Antarctica as a growing tourismdestination and as a place valued by humans: “The vastness andpeace. The importance of the Antarctic in determining climate,weather, and oceanic features in the rest of the world. The necessityof international planning and cooperation to protect this area.”

The Context for Antarctic TourismAlthough Antarctic tourism is growing rapidly, it is only a tinyfraction of the international tourism industry. While hundreds

of millions of tourists travel internationally each year, num-bers in Antarctica are now reaching 10,000 in the four-monthsummer season (see Figure 1). This may seem a small num-ber for a wilderness continent larger than the United Statesand Mexico combined (14 million square kilometers), butvisits are focused on only a few accessible natural and his-toric features. Most are in the less than 0.5% of the surfacearea (56,000 square kilometers), which is free of permanentice and is an area equivalent in size to Denmark, Sri Lanka,or West Virginia. But the largest single ice-free area (the DryValleys) is only 2,500 square kilometers, approximately thesame size as Yosemite National Park. The remaining ice-freeareas are mainly mountaintops and coastal outcrops speck-led widely over the vast Antarctic continent. Antarctica’s sparseterrestrial life is highly concentrated on these rocky “islands”in a “sea” of ice, particularly in the coastal areas close to the

FEA TU RE

ANTARCTIC TOURISMA Frontier for Wilderness Management

BY GORDON CESSFORD

[Editor’s Note: Antarctica is the largest contiguous area of wilderness on Earth. As inhospitable to humans as it may bemost of the time, the Antarctic is nonetheless a vital and valuable area. The IJW is pleased to feature five articles onAntarctica in this issue, more exposure to one subject in one issue than we have given previously. Special thanks go tothe efforts of IJW guest editors Gordon Cessford and Paul Dingwall of the Department of Conservation, New Zealand,for coordinating a comprehensive, up-to-date perspective on the great southern wilderness.

—Vance G. Martin, Executive Editor (International)]

Abstract: Antarctic tourism has grown rapidly in recent years, bringing an influx of new visitors to add to thetraditional scientific occupants of the continent. To date, tourism impacts on the wilderness environment have beenrelatively benign, and tourists accept that their visits may be subject to limitations. But the prospect of continued growthand diversity of activities brings some concerns about the adequacy of existing rules for managing tourists and calls forcontinued surveillance and research.

Do tour vessels at heavily visited historic sites on the Antarctic Peninsula representovercrowding? Photo by Antarctica NZ.


of seaborne tourism options as well asthe range of sites able to be reached. Dueto ease of accessibility and the concen-tration of attractions on the peninsula,most future growth in all types of Ant-arctic tourism is likely to occur here.

Smaller numbers of vessels travelfrom New Zealand and Australia to desti-nations mainly in the Ross Sea region, usu-ally complemented by visits to the NewZealand and Australian Subantarctic is-lands (recently nominated for World Heri-tage status). This, however, involves about10 days voyaging across the notoriouslystormy Southern Ocean, compared with3 to 5 days to the peninsula. The longerseatime raises travel costs, reduces the pro-portion of time spent ashore, is less com-fortable for passengers, and limits the typesof vessels that may safely visit (see Figure2). In addition, there is often uncertaintyabout reaching some sites when ice con-ditions are unfavorable. It is unlikely thatseaborne tourism to the Ross Sea will growsubstantially in the next few years unlessmore voyages using Russian vesselsbecome available.

Aircraft also travel from SouthAmerica, usually carrying small numbersof adventure-oriented tourists to inlandsites for climbing, skiing, and wildernessexpeditions. Other opportunities for air-borne access are currently being investi-gated elsewhere in the Antarctic, includingtrials of flights from South Africa (IAATO1997). Antarctic sightseeing overflightsfrom New Zealand were also provingpopular before ceasing after a tragic crashin 1979. These have resumed recentlyfrom Australia and are again proving popu-lar. Even when viewed from great heightand at considerable expense, Antarctica isa highly attractive tourist destination, re-flecting the commonly stated desire ofpeople to visit it someday.

The Impactsof Antarctic TourismAny wilderness manager confrontedwith tourist demand for visiting rare andhighly specific natural and historic fea-tures would have difficulty coping witha series of sites spread widely over a vastcontinent. Adding complexity is the lackof on-site management presence, thecommercial pressures driving tour

Seaborne tourists view an iceberg. Photo by Paul R. Dingwall.

life support provided by thesea. The direct human influ-ences that occur in Antarcticaare also highly concentratedin the more accessible of theseice-free coastal areas, includ-ing past and present scientificstations and current tourismactivities. So while the conti-nent is vast and the humannumbers low, the interaction ofpeople and environment oc-curs largely in the very limitedecosystems most important forthe marginal life that exists. Inthis situation, the presence andbehavior of even relativelysmall numbers of people takeon added significance.

The Pattern ofAntarctic TourismHuman activity in Antarctica isoverwhelmingly concentratedon the Antarctic Peninsula (seep. 23 of Dingwall article in thisissue for map), which containsalmost half of the 40 or so sci-entific stations in Antarctica,and over 90% of tourism ac-tivity (see Figure 2). In essence,Antarctic tourism consists ofship visits to the Antarctic Pen-insula, combining scenic cruis-ing with brief visits ashore toview unique wildlife and his-toric sites. Most Antarctic tour-ists voyage from Punta Arenas(Chile) or Ushuaia (Argentina)in vessels ranging from com-fortable cruise ships carrying400 or more passengers, toexpedition-style yachts carry-ing fewer than 10. Most ves-sels between these extremesare chartered craft, especiallya variety of ice-strengthenedRussian research vessels andicebreakers, which have beenconverted for tourism use andcarry 30 to 100 passengers.The availability of these vesselsfrom the early 1990s and theincreasing use of shipborne he-licopters has significantly in-creased the volume and scope


providers, and the lack of a clear man-date to make binding decisions. For thoseconcerned about the continued viabilityof Antarctic ecosystems and the integrityof the many historic sites, the prospectof growing tourism numbers in these cir-cumstances is not a welcome one. Tour-ists will inevitably have impacts, andthese may be particularly acute becausetourists specifically seek the most valuednatural and historic features. People maytry and get “just a little bit closer” for theirpenguin photograph; want to pick upthat historic hut item for a closer look;souvenir “just a few” wind-sculpturedstones; or walk “just a little” way into thatspecially protected area and maybe un-knowingly trample unnoticed lichens,mosses, soils, or rock features.

However, the localized impacts oftourism on features at Antarctic sitesshould be seen in the wider context ofnatural environmental fluctuations, glo-bal and regional human activities, andthe ongoing localized effects of stationoperations and science programs. Al-though tourists greatly outnumber sci-entists, Headland (1994) compared therelative tourist and nontourist “pres-ence-days” in Antarctic environments(i.e., how many people were present,what they were doing, and for howlong), and estimated that less than 1 %of direct human effects in Antarcticacould be attributed to tourists. This doesnot mean that tourism impacts shouldbe ignored, as they add to the cumula-tive effects of stations and science pro-grams (see Dalzeill and De Poorter articlein this issue), but shows that thereshould be a focus on station operationswhen prioritizing actions to reduce hu-man impacts. Tourist impacts should besubject to exclusive focus only wherethey particularly threaten the naturaland/or historic values. In the vicinity ofexisting stations, it is unlikely that en-vironmental impacts from tourist activ-ity would be more significant than thoseassociated with the station.

The most pervasive impact fromtourism has actually been on the opera-tion of the stations themselves. Touristsdisplay a particular interest in stationvisits, which are usually seen as an inte-gral part of the Antarctic experience. Inpositive terms, this provides welcome

changes in station routines, allows moredirect advocacy of the research beingdone to an interested audience, providesopportunities for generating revenuefrom postal and souvenir services, andhas enabled greater logistical coopera-tion between station and tour opera-tions. In some cases, tour vessels haveprovided transportation of staff andmaterials for management and researchpurposes.

As the number of tourist visits hasincreased, however, the physical distur-bance of station operations and scien-tific programs has become particularlyacute at stations on the Antarctic Pen-insula. Some stations now impose lim-its on visits allowed, or at least requireconsiderable advance notice and visi-tor adherence to strictly enforced codesof conduct while ashore. This providesthe control required to ensure that boththe tourists and the managers can ob-tain the benefits of station visits, with-out seriously compromising stationoperations. This outcome can beachieved for station visits because of theon-site presence of management au-thority, and its acceptance by both tour-ists and tour providers. Achieving thesame outcome at those sites where no

direct management control by officialauthorities is possible represents themain challenge for Antarctic tourismmanagement. But how does one stoptourists from going closer to get thatpenguin photograph when there is no-body there to inform them?

Managing AntarcticTourism ImpactsPart of the answer to this question lieswith the tourists themselves. A high de-gree of Antarctic interest and motivationis suggested by their choice of an Ant-arctic trip in the first place. They aremaking an expensive choice comparedwith other tourism options, and in mostcases they are accepting the probabilityof experiencing considerable discomfortat sea for relatively short visits ashore.Coming from the more affluent and bet-ter educated sectors of society (predomi-nantly from Europe and North America),generally being from older age groups,and mostly having professional andmanagerial backgrounds, these touristshave high expectations of quality visit-experiences, featuring spectacular scen-ery, fascinating wildlife, and significantheritage in a wilderness context.


The few studies made of Antarcticand Subantarctic tourists have indicatedthat these high expectations are beingachieved. Furthermore, research con-ducted by Cessford and Dingwall (1996)found that there was a high degree oftourist acceptance of the regulations im-posed for controlling visits ashore and noreal demand for development of any visit-related facilities. Apart from some inter-est in provision of toilet options while

environmental messages managers maywish to convey. In essence, there do notappear to be any significant “customer-demand” pressures on tour operators toundertake their tours in ways that mightseriously compromise Antarctic wilder-ness values or ecological integrity.

Because almost all Antarctic tourismvisits are on self-contained ships, thereis no need for any onshore facilities. Thisremoves the main source of most pos-

mans, and what are the long-term con-sequences of their short-term behavioralresponses? While recognizing that thereis much to learn, and acknowledging thevulnerability of the values involved, thereis still a need to provisionally establishsome working guidelines.

Substantial progress has been madetoward achieving site-managementguidelines. On the one hand, nationsadministering activities in Antarctica un-der the Antarctic Treaty have adopted theMadrid Protocol, which provides a sys-tem under international law for environ-mental management of all humanactivities in Antarctica (see p. 22 ofDingwall article in this issue). While notdistinguishing between different types ofhuman activity, the Protocol does providea basis for treaty nations to develop theirown management policies specific toAntarctic tourism. For example, NewZealand recently passed domestic legis-lation providing for regulations andguidelines governing visits to the Ross Searegion (anon 1997). In this situation,New Zealand has extended its ability topromote these regulations by requiringthat an official government representa-tive accompanies each visiting ship.While this requirement can be legallyenforced in New Zealand’s Subantarcticisland territories, in the internationalrealm of Antarctica it can only beachieved through mutual agreement be-tween authorities and operators. To datethis arrangement has worked well, de-spite the costs involved for both parties.The managers establish some oversightof visits, while the operators achieve agreater measure of official endorsement,and sometimes the added interpretiveservices of an experienced professional.

On the other hand, the InternationalAssociation of Antarctic Tour Operators(IAATO), which includes almost all Ant-arctic tour operations, has also developedits own bylaws, codes of conduct, andvisitation guidelines. Thus, in most cases,visits to Antarctic sites will be controlledby groups under the supervision of ex-perienced guides who are applying es-tablished visit protocols. This enablesvisitors to enjoy an informative, interest-ing, and safe experience, while avoidingsensitive areas or inappropriate behaviors.These voluntary codes and guidelines also

How do you stop tourists from going closer toget that penguin photograph when there isnobody there to inform them?

A tourist interacts with emperor penguins. Photo by Antarctica NZ.

onshore, a need that all public space andwilderness managers would recognize,the only notable developmental prefer-ences expressed were for enhancing thealready extensive interpretation and in-formation opportunities associated withvisits. In general, it appears that in manyways Antarctic tourists are already par-ticularly receptive to the need for someregulation of visits ashore, to the types ofregulations managers would wish to ap-ply, and to the types of conservation and

sible impacts from human activity at sites,and places the focus more specifically onsimply minimizing the effects of the briefsite-visits. In turn, this requires morespecific and localized tasks for researchand monitoring related to impact assess-ment and site management. To achievethe best management of sites, more un-derstanding of specific human-environ-ment interactions is required. Forexample, how do different wildlife spe-cies perceive the repeated presence of hu-

THE IN TERNA TIONAL JOURNAL OF WILDERNESS Volume 3, Number 3 11

extend beyond the normal competitivebehaviors of business, going as far as in-cluding cooperation between differenttour operations to minimize visit conges-tion at particularly popular sites.

ConclusionClearly, a growing consensus betweentourism and management interests, com-bined with the willingness of most tour-ists to accept environmental controls ontheir visits, is an encouraging basis for

achieving an environmentally sustainabletourism industry in Antarctica. Followingthe precautionary approach representedby the Madrid Protocol and IAATO initia-tives, the working rules represented by thedeveloping guidelines can continue to beapplied as the best practices available. Butongoing research, monitoring, and con-sensus are still required in order to con-tinue improving our understandings of theimpacts and, if necessary to further refinethese working rules. IJW

GORDON CESSFORD is a recreation and tourismresearcher with the Department of Conservationin Wellington, New Zealand. He has researchedAntarctic and Subantarctic shipborne touristsand has spent time in both areas. He can bereached at the Department of Conservation,Science and Research Division, P.O. Box 10-420,Wellington, New Zealand. Telephone:64-4-471-0726; fax: 64-4-471-3279; e-mail:[email protected].

REFERENCESAnon, 1997. Guidelines and procedures for

visitors to the Ross Sea region. Ministry ofForeign Affairs and Trade, Wellington,New Zealand.

Cessford. G. R., and P. R. Dingwall. 1996.Tourist visitors and their experiences atNew Zealand subantarctic islands.Science and Research Series No 96.Science and Research Division,

Department of Conservation, Wellington,New Zealand.

Headland, R. K. 1994. Historical developmentof Antarctic tourism. Annals of TourismResearch, vol. 21 (2): 269–280. (Thisvolume was a special issue on Antarctictourism, including several useful papers.)

IAATO, 1997. Overview of Antarctic tourismactivities: a summary of 1996–1998 and

five year projection 1997–2002.Information Paper 75 (XXI ATCM/IP75),submitted by IAATO (InternationalAssociation of Antarctica Tour Operators).Antarctic Treaty: XXI Consultative Meeting,May 1997, Christchurch, New Zealand.

Rubin, J. 1996. Antarctica: Lonely Planet TravelSurvival Kit. Lonely Planet Publications,Melbourne, Australia.


L IKE THE EARLIERCONCEPT OF THENATIONAL PARK, the

American concept of wildernesshas dispersed throughout theworld, particularly in temperatenations settled by the British.Countries such as Australia,Canada, New Zealand, andSouth Africa have all begun toexpand the acreage and numberof designated wilderness areas intheir territories.

This article outlines theorigin of the wilderness areaconcept in New Zealand, dis-cussing the country’s modifica-tions of the wilderness areaconcept in the mid-1980s, andthe biogeographical evolution

and human settlement that have had important implicationsupon the perception of the indigenous landscape.

From Gondwanaland to Aotearoato New ZealandApproximately 80 million years ago, the islands of what is nowknown as New Zealand broke away from Gondwanaland and

began to drift away from the super-continent in an easterly di-rection. One of the most conspicuous outcomes of the resultingbiogeographical isolation was the evolution of a high number ofendemic species, particularly in bird and insect populations.Whereas earlier, more primitive species in less isolated landmasses were slowly replaced by competitors better adapted tochanging environmental conditions, in New Zealand theseatavistic species—evolving at a much slower rate and in lessconventional directions—continued to flourish (Burns 1984).Most notably, these islands evolved without the presence of mam-malian predators: the only native land mammals are three spe-cies of bats. Many indigenous species have since beenexterminated by the activities of humans (the first mammalianpredators to invade the islands), particularly through huntingpressure, landscape modification, and competition with intro-duced species (Salmon 1975; Veblen and Stewart 1982).

Present-day New Zealand remained completely isolatedfrom human influence until approximately 1,000 years ago,when Polynesians began to make what is thought to have beena series of migrations to the land they came to call Aotearoa(Davidson 1984; Biggs 1990). The Maori had considerableimpact upon the New Zealand landscape (Orbell 1985).Approximately 30 avian species became extinct (Veblen andStewart 1982; Cassels, 1984; Atkinson 1989), and fromone-third (Nicholls 1980) to one-half (McGlone 1989) of theoriginal forest cover was cleared by approximately 1800.

Nevertheless, the arrival of Europeans in Aotearoa heraldedeven more significant changes for the New Zealand landscape.

S TEWARDSHIP

SOCIAL AND ECOLOGICALMANIFESTATIONS IN THE DEVELOPMENTOF THE WILDERNESS AREA CONCEPT

IN NEW ZEALANDBY JOHN SHULTIS

Abstract: Wilderness, like national parks, is an American innovation that dispersed to New Zealand soon after itsoriginal foundation. While the philosophies behind the establishment and management of national parks has remainedconsistent in Western nations, the conception of wilderness areas has begun to develop in unique directions in NewZealand. With the wilderness policy of 1985, the New Zealand government applied more stringent criteria thateliminated “developments such as huts, tracks [trails], bridges, signs, and mechanized access.” This paper discussesthe new concept of designated wilderness in New Zealand and outlines the social and ecological antecedents of thesechanges.

Article author John Shultis.

(Peer Reviewed)


Though first sighted in 1642 by AbelTasman, sustained European settlementdid not begin until 1788, the year NewZealand formally fell under the jurisdic-tion of the newly formed New SouthWales colony in Australia.

The Development ofProtected Areas in NewZealandIn 1840, the signing of the Treaty ofWaitangi cleared the way for organized Brit-ish settlement of New Zealand. Just onemonth after the Treaty of Waitangi had beensigned, the Royal Navy requested that suit-able areas of kauri forest in the Northlandregion be set aside for naval use before fur-ther settlement of the area took place. How-ever, the Colonial Land and ImmigrationOffice opposed the establishment of forestreserves, as they perceived them to be in-compatible with settlement. Eventually, anational system of forest reserves wasestablished through the New Zealand For-ests Act (1874) and the Land Act (1877).In 1881 the Thermal-springs Districts Actwas passed, which allowed the governmentto reserve hot springs and related featuresfor recreation and tourism purposes: an ex-cerpt from the Yellowstone park legislationwas quoted during discussions of the Bill(New Zealand Parliamentary Debates,1881, vol. 40) to help elucidate the prin-ciples behind the protection of naturalfeatures for park purposes.

New Zealand was the fourth countryin the world to establish a national park.The nucleus of present-day Tongariro Na-tional Park was deeded to the New Zealandgovernment by the Maori chief Te HeuheuTukino IV in 1887, and enabling legisla-tion was passed in 1894. The delay wasdue to confusion over the concept of thenational park, and concern that the areawas suitable for settlement or resourceextraction (Shultis 1992). One member ofparliament attempted to alleviate theseconcerns using typical New Zealand im-agery: he “pitied the unfortunate sheepthat had to try to get a living out of [theproposed park area]” (New Zealand Par-liamentary Debates, 1893, vol. 79).

As these early parks were primarily seenas tourist resorts, where possible the wilder-ness was “improved” with facilities suitablefor the establishment of tourist resort desti-

The Evolution of Wildernessin New ZealandThe idea of providing wilderness areasin New Zealand was first discussed in the1930s, soon after activity to protect wil-derness in the United States occurred.However, the Federated Mountain Clubs(FMC)—the most influential of all non-governmental groups lobbying for theestablishment and management of pro-tected areas—tended to conceive of these

United States in the late 1940s to studymanagerial techniques utilized in Ameri-can protected areas (Molloy 1983a; Thorn1987). McCaskill discussed the conceptof wilderness while visiting Leopold andother American advocates of the wilder-ness concept. But it was the visit of OlausMurie, then president of The WildernessSociety in the United States, that providedthe crucial impetus to the establishmentof designated wilderness areas in NewZealand. In addresses to the Auckland and

A typical scene in Fiordland National Park, the park that best typifies New Zealand wilderness.Two designated wilderness areas—Glaisnock and Pembroke—are found within this park. Muchof the park remains de facto wilderness. Photo by Arnette Browne.

As opposed to wilderness areas in the UnitedStates, Canada, and Australia, wildernessareas in New Zealand have become muchmore stringently defined: areas designated assuch “will not have developments such as huts,tracks, bridges, signs, nor mechanised access.”

nations catering to the upper classes. Whilein theory the lands and biota within parkboundaries were subject to varying levels ofprotection, in actuality parklands provedto have little defense from unauthorizedexploitation apart from their remotenessand their “worthlessness” for anything otherthan recreation and tourism.

areas as being of little use for recreation,though perhaps of some use for searchand rescue training operations (TararuaTramping Club Collection, unpublished).

The concept of wilderness areasgained momentum when LanceMcCaskill, a celebrated advocate of pro-tected areas in New Zealand, visited the


Christchurch branches of the New ZealandGeographical Society in 1949, Murie ex-pressed his dismay over the chaotic stateof national park administration in NewZealand and discussed the American ex-perience with wilderness areas (McCaskill1949). A recent popular history of NewZealand’s national parks states that Murieprovided a “direct American input” intothe appearance of a section dealing withwilderness areas in the 1952 NationalParks Act (Thorn 1987). McCaskill him-self stated that the concept of wildernessareas was “introduced to New Zealand byOlaus Murie” (McCaskill 1965).

Similar to the earlier national parkconcept, the provision of wilderness ar-eas was made possible by the American

Act passed by the United States Congressin 1964. However, unlike the 1952 and1980 NPA, foot tracks were now specifi-cally prohibited in designated wildernessareas. Where such facilities such as huts,tracks, bridges, and route markers existed,they were to be “removed or no longer ...maintained” (Wilderness Advisory Group[WAG], 1985).

This new policy, endorsed by both theNPAu and the FS, signaled a significant al-teration of the wilderness concept amongthe FMC, other lobbying groups, and gov-ernment officials. As opposed to wildernessareas in the United States, Canada, andAustralia, wilderness areas in New Zealandhave become much more stringently de-fined: areas designated as such “will nothave developments such as huts, tracks,bridges, signs, nor mechanised access”(WAG 1985). Where such facilities—stillconsidered “improvements” in other pro-tected areas—exist, they are required to beeither removed or allowed to weather andage until consumed by the elements. Bufferzones between road access and wildernessboundaries are also encouraged. Thus, wil-derness areas in New Zealand have becomemore strictly geared toward the actual pres-ervation of relatively unmodified landscapesthan in other countries. Though recre-ational use of wilderness is welcomed inNew Zealand, it is neither actively encour-aged (through the identification of wilder-ness areas in national park/ topographicalmaps) nor facilitated (through the tradi-tional establishment of vehicular access andrecreational facilities such as huts, tracks,bridges, and signs).

precedent and mirrored the Americanconception of wilderness areas and wil-derness recreation.

Since the 1970s, the FMC had beentenaciously lobbying for changes in thelegislative concept of wilderness areas.Les Molloy of the FMC spearheaded thissustained effort that finally culminated inthe FMC silver anniversary wildernessconference and the consequential estab-lishment of the Wilderness AdvisoryGroup in 1981 (Molloy 1983b).

The resulting Wilderness Policy(WP), established in 1985, provided analtered version of the vision contained inthe 1952 and 1980 National Parks Act(NPA) and an earlier joint policy producedby the National Parks Authority (NPAu)

and the Forest Service(FS) in 1980. Wilder-ness areas were nowto be preserved andperpetuated in theirnatural state, withonly minimal signs ofhuman interferencetolerated. The con-tinuing affinity withthe American wilder-ness system was re-flected in the wordingof the definition ofwilderness, much ofwhich (as in similarCanadian legislationand policy) reveals amarked resemblanceto phrases containedin The Wilderness

Manuka forest in Tongariro National Park. When this picture was taken in1988, the area was within the Hauhangatahi Wilderness area. However, in themid-1990s, this and two other designated wilderness areas were reclassifiedas remote experience zones, as they did not meet all the criteria contained inthe 1985 Wilderness Policy. Photo by Arnette Brown.


Wilderness areas designated after theestablishment of the WP in 1985 werenormally larger, had fewer existing recre-ational facilities, larger buffer zones, andwere more likely to incorporate ecologi-cal principles than earlier wilderness ar-eas. Indeed, as stipulated in the WP,Otehake, Te Tatua-Pounamu, andHauhungatahi wilderness areas were laterdowngraded to “remote experience zones,”as they did not conform to required stan-dards (principally minimum size). Table1 lists the designated wilderness areas ex-isting in New Zealand as of 1996.

Social and EcologicalManifestations in theDevelopment of WildernessAreas in New ZealandThe reasons behind the New Zealandtransformation in the concept of wilder-ness areas are: (1) first and foremost, thestrengthening of the New Zealand iden-tity. New Zealand, like other excolonies,has developed a more robust nationalidentity one familiar to itself and to othernations; (2) development of the environ-mental movement; and (3) the growinginfluence of ecological principles in themanagement of protected areas. These areboth international and national trends.While the field of ecology is not strictly a20th-century phenomenon (Worster1977), the second half of the 20th cen-tury has seen an explosion in its scientificsignificance and public awareness(Bramwell 1989). In New Zealand, thefield of ecology is particularly significantbecause of the high number of endemicspecies and the endangered status of manynative animals, a result of its bio-geo-graphical isolation and the enormous im-pact of introduced species. The instabilityand singularity of the New Zealand ter-restrial ecosystem is much more conspicu-ous than in North America or Europe. Inthis way, the idiosyncratic biogeographyof New Zealand has had a decisive impactupon the way in which the New Zealandwilderness is perceived by its citizens.

These three primary factors—thestrengthening of the New Zealand iden-tity, the growth of the environmentalmovement, and the increasing impor-tance of ecological principles—providedmuch of the basis for the change in the

New Zealand concept of wilderness dur-ing the 1970s and 1980s. Secondary rea-sons behind the change is the belief inNew Zealand that remaining indigenousspecies are of greater value than exoticspecies. Plants or animals that best typifyor support the national identity, and thathighlight the uniqueness of New Zealand(the kauri, kiwi, or kakapo, for example)are more valued than species that do nothave these characteristics. The precari-ous existence of such indigenous speciesas the Chatham Island robin, kakapo,kiwi, and tuatara have helped ignite pub-lic support and sympathy for these ani-mals. Similarly, research based uponecological principles has emphasized thedestructive power of introduced speciessuch as rats and deer on indigenous spe-cies and landscapes. Also, both the NewZealand public and government agencieshave become more comfortable with un-modified (wilderness) environments. Thestrengthening of the New Zealand iden-tity has led to increasing identificationwith and pride in so-called “typical” NewZealand landscapes and species, whichin turn has resulted in the increased af-fection for the unmodified, uniquely NewZealand environment (i.e., wilderness).

ConclusionBeginning in the early 1970s, and culmi-nating in the mid-1980s, policy makers

began to envisage a new more indigenousconception of wilderness areas. Thestrengthening of the New Zealand iden-tity and increased public knowledge aboutendangered indigenous landscapes andspecies are deemed largely responsible.Increased support for unmodified repre-sentative New Zealand landscapes was alsonecessary for the recent more stringentmodification of the wilderness area con-cept. As recreational and commercial pres-sures increase over the years, it remains tobe seen if New Zealand bureaucrats andpoliticians will be content to allow theserelatively undisturbed wild-lands to re-main as designated wilderness areas. Thelaudable goal of creating these tiny islandsof primordial New Zealand, largely unvis-ited, but still deeply valued representationsof the original New Zealand landscape andthe contemporary national identity, maybe considered as yet a largely unknownand uncontested ideal. IJW

JOHN SHULTIS is assistant professor of resourcerecreation and tourism, University of Northern BritishColumbia. He earned his Ph.D. from the Departmentof Geography, University of Otago, New Zealand,where his research focused on historical andcontemporary perceptions of wilderness and naturalenvironments in New Zealand. Contact John at3333 University Way, Prince George, BC, V2N4Z9, Canada. Telephone: (250) 960-5640; e-mail:[email protected].

In 1983 a large part of Stewart Island was proposed for wilderness status by the FMC. This and otherproposals have not yet been acted upon. Despite the importance of marine landscapes in New Zealand,no wilderness areas currently incorporate this landscape.


Atkinson, I. 1989. Introduced animals andextinctions. In D. Western and M. Pearl,eds., Conservation For the Twenty-firstCentury. New York: Oxford UniversityPress, 50–53.

Biggs, B. 1990. In the beginning. In K. Sinclair,ed., The Oxford Illustrated History of NewZealand. Auckland, New Zealand: OxfordUniversity Press, 1–19.

Bramwell, A. 1989. Ecology in the 20thCentury: A History. New Haven andLondon: Yale University Press.

Burns, C. W. 1984. Protected areas andintroduced species in New Zealand. In J.A. McNeely, ed., National Parks,Conservation and Development: The Roleof National Parks in Sustaining Society.Washington, D.C.: Smithsonian InstitutionPress, 402–411.

Cassels, R. 1984. The role of prehistoric man inthe faunal extinction of New Zealand andother Pacific islands. In P. S. Martin and R.G. Klein, eds., Quarternary Extinctions: APrehistoric Revolution. Tucson: University ofArizona Press, 741–767.

Davidson, J. M. 1984. The Prehistory of NewZealand. Auckland, New Zealand:Longman Paul.

McCaskill, L. W. 1965. General aspects ofrecreation in national parks. NZ J. ofForestry 10(2): 155–157.

————-. 1949. Wild life preservation in NewZealand and America. NZ GeographicalRecord, 7: 16.

McGlone, M. S. 1989. The Polynesiansettlement of New Zealand in relation toenvironmental and biotic changes. NZ J.of Ecology 12(supplement): 115–129.

Molloy, L F. 1983a. Wilderness recreation—the New Zealand experience. In L. F.Molloy, ed., Wilderness Recreation in NewZealand: Proceedings of the FMC 50thJubilee Conference on Wilderness.Wellington, New Zealand: FederatedMountain Clubs of New Zealand, 4–19.

————-. 1983b. Wilderness Recreation inNew Zealand: Proceedings of the FMC50th Jubilee Conference on Wilderness.Wellington, New Zealand: FederatedMountain Clubs of New Zealand.

Nicholls, J. L 1980. The past and present extentof New Zealand’s indigenous forests.Environmental Conservation, 7: 309–310.

Orbell, M. 1 985. The Natural World of theMaori. Auckland, New Zealand: Collins/Bateman.

Salmon, J. T. 1975. The effect of man on the biota.In G. Kuschel, ed., Biogeography and Ecologyin New Zealand. The Hague, Netherlands:Dr. W. Junk Publishers, 643–661.

Shultis, J. D. 1992. Natural environments,wilderness and protected areas: an analysisof historical Western attitudes and utilisation,and their expression in contemporary NewZealand. Unpublished Ph.D thesis. Dunedin,New Zealand: Department of Geography,University of Otago.

Tararua Tramping Club. N.d. Tararua TrampingClub Collection. MS/Papers/1858.Wellington, New Zealand: AlexanderTumbull Library.

Thorn, D. 1987. Heritage: The Parks of the People.Auckland, New Zealand: Lansdowne Press.

Veblen, T. I, and G. H. Stewart. 1982. The effectsof introduced animals on New Zealandforests. Annals of the Association ofAmerican Geographers, 72(3): 372–397.

Wilderness Advisory Group. 1985. WildernessPolicy. Wellington, New Zealand:Department of Lands and Survey and theNew Zealand Forest Service.

Worster, D. 1977. Nature’s Economy: The Rootsof Ecology. San Francisco: Sierra Club.

REFERENCES


AS SNOW DRIFTED THROUGH THE SKY on the edgeof the High Uintas Wilderness in 1989, Tom Lyon, notednaturalist, longtime wilderness advocate, and profes-

sor of English at Utah State University, spoke these words atthe fifth anniversary of the Utah Wilderness Act:

We suddenly realize that the world has nothing more precise,more worth saving, more worth fighting for, than the songof one hermit thrush, or the quick appearance and flowingdisappearance of one marten, or the way the sunlight lookson the deep brown velvet of a moose’s rack. These thingsare alive to us now, and uncannily potent in their wildness,because our wildness is coming alive. One of the greatpowers, one of the great gifts, of wild country is to restorethis birthright attentiveness (Lyon 1989).

Roderick Nash (1973) notes the word “wilderness” liter-ally translates into “a place of wild beasts.” Leopold (1949)wrote a benediction, often overlooked, but of profound im-portance, for the last grizzly shot in Arizona: “Mt. Escudillastill hangs on the horizon, but when you see it you no longerthink of bear. It’s only a mountain now.”

Wildlife makes wilderness worth preserving. It remindsus in the plainest terms that we are living with, not at the ex-pense of, other creatures. But managing wilderness (designatedor not) let alone wildlife in wilderness, is a paradox. Such aconcept implies forcing a modern and planned human systeminto a chaotic and untrammeled wild place. Controlling wil-derness (wildness) is the purpose of management, preciselythe arrogance that destroys wilderness (wildness). Maintain-ing naturalness and solitude should be the focus of wildernessmanagement (Hendee, et al. 1990).

At the same time, wilderness does not exist in a vacuum.Songbirds head south, ungulates head down, wolves followthem, and native cutthroat trout swim up and down only tomeet non-native rainbow or brook trout. And research hasshown that few natural areas in the lower 48 states are largeenough to singularly harbor wolverine, grizzly bear, and oth-ers within their boundaries (Newmark 1987; Newmark 1995;Noss and Cooperrider 1994; Noss, et al. 1996).

Wildlife Management in WildernessThus the question becomes, “What kind of wildlife man-agement in wilderness?” While direct habitat manipula-tion is largely prohibited in wilderness, game and fisheriesmanagement has escaped close inspection. Many of ourwilderness areas are full of non-native trout raised in fishhatcheries and introduced to wilderness streams at theexpense of native trout and amphibians that don’t com-pete well with the introduced species (Bahls 1990; Duff,1995; Knapp 1996; Murray 1994). Hunting and trappingpressures vary, but often the focus is on hunter and anglersuccess.

The Wilderness Act (TWA) (PL. 88-577, 1964) seemsclear. Wilderness is defined as a place “where the earth andcommunity of life are untrammeled ... retaining its prime-val character and influence ... which is protected and man-aged so as to preserve its natural conditions ... affectedprimarily by the forces of nature ... .” Hunting and fishingauthorized by state wildlife agencies are allowed, but notrequisites. The overriding governance of the legislation isthat wilderness must be untrammeled and human activitiesmust be subordinate to the perceived natural life processes.Naturalness, primitiveness, and solitude dominate.

EDUCA TION AND COMMUNICA TION

MAINTAINING WILDLIFENATURALNESS IN WILDERNESS

BY DICK CARTER

Abstract: Naturalness and wildness. The keys to what is most valuable about wilderness are directly threatened byrecent U.S. Forest Service (USFS) wildlife and wilderness management policy changes with respect to stockingnon-native fish species in wilderness waters and the introduction of non-native wildlife to wilderness lands.

Article author Dick Carter.


Unfortunately, most state wildlifeagency programs require considerablehuman domination such as recreational-based non-native fish stocking, game pro-duction, introduction of non-nativeterrestrial species—such as mountaingoat (Oreamnos americanus) in some Utahwildernesses—and predator control.

The purpose of wilderness shouldnot be to maximize game managementopportunities, but rather to secure wildenvironments for wild native species.Wildlife in wilderness should not be sym-bolic of our management prowess. Wil-derness must be a refuge for wildlifewhere our efforts are directed at restrain-ing our management and control. It istime to allow ourselves to be absorbedby wilderness and think like Leopold’smountain.

Wilderness andWildlife Policy—Undesirable ChangesRegulations that implement wildernessand wildlife policy within the USFS, forexample (see Hendee, Lucas and Stankey1990, for a comparison of wilderness/wildlife regulations), have always setpolicy that recognizes state jurisdictionover wildlife, consistent with wildernessobjectives that state “the forces of natu-ral selection and survival rather than hu-

man actions determine which and whatnumbers of wildlife species exist” (USDA1990).

While the idea that wildlife manage-ment must also protect wilderness val-ues has always been espoused, it has notalways been practiced. In fact, that policyseems to be unraveling. Many activitiessuch as non-native fish stocking have lit-erally evolved with the wilderness sys-tem and have helped promote the originalcontext of wilderness as a primitive rec-reational resource. With growing recog-nition that wilderness also must play animportant part in the preservation of eco-logical and biological diversity and integ-rity (Noss 1996), issues such asnon-native recreational-based fish-stock-ing programs and big-game managementhave grown increasingly controversial.

In a dramatic change of policy theUSFS emphatically stated in a Septem-ber 6, 1996, memo from the chiefs officeto regional foresters that because “statesmanage most resident fish and wildlifepopulations,” while the USFS “primarilymanages habitats for wildlife and fish,”public wildlife policy decision making bythe USFS will be confined only where afederal action will be met (USDA 1996).

On the surface this policy seems notso dramatic—there has always been arecognition that states managed wildlifeactivities such as hunting and fishing

(Wilkinson, 1985). The USFS has uppedthis context to mean wildlife, not neces-sarily wildlife management activities, butthe resource itself. Because fish stocking,for example, is not generally a federalaction, the agency may allow state wild-life agencies to continue stocking non-native fish in wilderness waters withoutthe requisite analysis of the impacts ofthis long-term activity on indigenousaquatic species—not to mention the bio-physical impacts upon wilderness envi-ronments resulting from intensive fishingpressure.

This emphasis comes at a particu-larly troubling time because of increas-ing concerns over recreational-based fishstocking. Management bias toward a rec-reational fishery over other indigenousaquatic species comes as no surprise. Butthe willingness of the USFS to disregard,as a matter of policy the connection be-tween the critters and habitat is discon-certing. This disconnection at a policyand management level flies in the faceof the often stated goals of ecosystemmanagement: it defers meaningful issuesto state wildlife managers who oftenhave vastly different public input andreview processes and managementobjectives. Though this policy does callfor consultation and cooperation,and allows conflicts to be moved upthrough the USFS bureaucracy, it isimportant to realize that this new direc-tion came from higher levels, raisingquestions and suspicions as to how con-flicts will be resolved at local levels.

Fish Stocking andNaturalnessIn Utah, for example, this issue prevailson the High Uintas Wilderness and sur-rounding roadless lands. As in most west-ern states, the majority of high mountainlakes in places like the High Uintas werehistorically fishless (Bahls 1992). Mostmajor lakes in the Uintas have in recenttimes been stocked with rainbow andeastern brook trout, both nonindigenous,as well as hatchery-raised cutthroat trout.Under USFS regulations (USDA 1990),those species are now considered nativeas they have survived (with incrediblehelp from fish stocking programs) in theirnew environments. Conservationists have

Photo by John Hendee.


long complained about this process, cit-ing heavy recreational use by anglers inmany lake basins, and more recentlyabout concerns over nonindigenous fishstocking as it affects the inherent biologi-cal diversity of these aquatic systems.

In 1993, conservationists led by theUtah Wilderness Association proposed aColorado River Cutthroat Trout Refugiumconsisting of the Yellowstone River drain-age on the south slope of the High UintasWilderness (Utah Wilderness Association1993). This proposal consisted of about 100square miles of alpine, subalpine, anddensely forested spruce and lodge-pole pinedrainages and basins. Some pure Coloradocutthroat trout populations have alreadyfound hiding places within this huge area(Shiozawa 1993), though the area is rou-tinely stocked by state wildlife managers.The proposal outlined fishing regulationsthat would have prompted the removal ofnon-native fisheries over a ten-year periodand, because native Colorado cutthroattrout are sensitive to angling pressure, fu-ture fishing regulations would have focusedon “see and release” or the more traditional“catch and release” policy. While many inthe USFS privately supported this concept,the agency argued that it was up to the UtahDivision of Wildlife Resources (UDWR),which noted the proposal went too far toofast (Salt Lake Tribune 1993).

Concurrent with this proposal, thetwo national forests managing the HighUintas Wilderness (Wasatch-Cache andAshley) initiated a wilderness manage-ment planning process called Limits ofAcceptable Change (LAC). (For a discus-sion on opportunity classes and the Lim-its of Acceptable Change see McCoy, etal. IJW, December 1995). Conservation-ists pursued the cutthroat trout refugiumproposal through this effort with no suc-cess. The Utah Division of Wildlife Re-sources objected strenuously to thatstrategy, noting fisheries are the sole pur-view of state wildlife managers: “It is nosecret that several members of the LACcommittee openly desire to eliminate ac-tive management of fish and wildlife inthe wilderness area. The LAC process isa tool being used by these individuals toattempt to diminish the divisions man-agement authority and thereby accom-plish their desires” (UDWR 1993). TheUSFS response? The draft environmen-

tal impact statement for High Uintas Wil-derness management refused to entertainthe cutthroat trout refugium concept, not-ing it was a state wildlife managementissue requiring the preparation of a (yet-to-be-completed) memorandum of un-derstanding between the USFS and theUDWR. In essence, this process sets wild-life policy for wilderness on federal landsand affects habitat therein, largely di-rected by the more narrowly focused statewildlife management agency, and is notsubject to public scrutiny or involvement.

of the areas now harboring goats and pro-posed for goat introductions were desig-nated as wilderness, thus subject toWilderness Act guidance and USFS regu-lations, which note wilderness is to har-bor indigenous species. Simultaneously,the concern over wilderness as a refugiumfor natural processes and biodiversity wasgrowing.

While observing the prohibitionagainst placing nonindigenous speciesdirectly into designated wilderness, theUSFS in 1988 allowed the UDWR to in-

The purpose of wilderness should not be tomaximize game management opportunities,but rather to secure wild environments fornative species.

Mountain Goatsand Wilderness in UtahThis issue is not confined to fisheries. Theintroduction of mountain goats into anumber of high elevation landscapes inUtah has become exceptionally contro-versial. Most available scientific literaturesuggests goats are not native to Utah(Chapman and Feldhamer 1982; Johnson1977; Rideout and Hoffman 1975;Zeveloff 1988). The UDWR acknowl-edges that while mountain goats were notfound in Utah during the Holocene, Pleis-tocene mountain goats did exist in whatis referred to as Utah. And existing habi-tats appear to be adequate for mountaingoat survival (UDWR 1995). Aside fromthe “Pleistocene argument,” the forestservice and UDWR cite a USFS districtrangers diary from the early 1900s inwhich he notes mountain goats were seenin the Uintas. However, additional cor-roboration, archaeological evidence, andan oral history, including hunting stories,of mountain goats in the Uintas or else-where in Utah are notably lacking.

Mountain goats were introduced intomany Wasatch Front areas in the late1960s, long before this was even perceivedas an issue. However, with passage of theUtah Wilderness Act in 1984, a number

troduce mountain goats in an area adja-cent to the High Uintas Wilderness, thefirst controversial mountain goat intro-duction. It was opposed by conservation-ists, and it was widely acknowledged thatthese goats would migrate into the moresuitable high elevation habitat of the HighUintas Wilderness. The goats came fromOlympic National Park, with a warningto the USFS about introducing mountaingoats in habitats and designated wilder-nesses in which they are not indigenous(Olympic National Park 1988). Thiswarning was not heeded.

After years of often heated discussion,the USFS in 1994 finally agreed that a sig-nificant environmental analysis should becompleted on the goat introductions incooperation with UDWR and interestedpublics, prior to any future mountain goatintroductions in Utah, particularly in des-ignated wilderness. Unfortunately, thisdecision by Utah National Forest supervi-sors and the Inter-mountain regional for-ester was subsequently abandoned by newand radically departing USFS policy, whichdeemed it the state wildlife agency’s re-sponsibility to determine whether speciesare indigenous and where they should betransplanted or introduced (USDA 1995).This decision was followed by the sepa-rate and already noted September 1996


policy, which further restricted the USFS’sability to analyze and managenonindigenous wildlife on public forestservice lands, including wilderness. Fur-thermore, the USFS did not complete astatewide environmental analysis beforeallowing an August 1996 transplant of 15mountain goats from the Tushar Moun-tains. The goats were relocated from theFishlake National Forest to additional ar-eas adjacent to the High Uintas Wilder-ness, this time without public notification.They were simply transported by helicop-ter from an area where they were overgraz-ing, and they were released.

Further transplants have been pro-posed by the UDWR for 1997, utilizinghelicopters to catch mountain goats in the

with the UDWR and independent biolo-gists to determine whether mountaingoats are indigenous to Utah. Unfortu-nately, the mountain goat is now becom-ing an icon of a myopic view ofwilderness that embraces the introduc-tion of non-native species.

WildernessHunting and FishingRecreational hunting, fishing, and trappinghave long been considered integral usesof wilderness and are legally allowed inareas administered by the USFS and theBureau of Land Management. However,the U.S. view of wilderness is changing.The reorientation from a utilitarian view

regional foresters (USDA 1996), directedthat because “states manage most residentfish and wildlife populations,” while theUSFS “primarily manages habitats forwildlife and fish,” public wildlife policydecision making by the USFS will be con-fined to where a federal action will bemet. This, combined with new USFS di-rection that dictates it is the states respon-sibility to determine whether species areindigenous—and thus where they shouldbe transplanted or introduced (USDA1995)—empowers western wildlife agen-cies who favor fish and wildlife stockingof non-native species to support recre-ational fishing and hunting. In Utah, thetranslocation of mountain goats to wil-derness and adjacent areas where they arenot native, long a contentious issue,seems a fait accompli.

Naturalness and wildness, seeminglymandated by TWA, and the key to whatis most unique and valuable about wil-derness, are directly threatened by stock-ing non-native fish species in wildernesswaters and the introduction of non-na-tive wildlife to wilderness lands. Ques-tions about what is and is not nativeshould be referred to qualified scientificcommittees for resolution, not to localmanagers responsive to hunting and fish-ing clientele. Management policy for fed-eral lands should remain in federalcontrol for the benefit of all Americans,and not be deferred to local state wildlifeagencies who are most responsive to lo-cal consumptive constituencies.

Wilderness should be a refugium forwildlife without the penalties so oftendealt by human insistence on control-ling wilderness. Only then will we beginto understand the real differencebetween tame wilderness and the mean-ing of wildness. IJW

DICK CARTER founded the High UintasPreservation Council in 1996. For 17 years heserved as coordinator of the Utah WildernessAssociation, which he founded in 1979. He wasthe Utah/Nevada representative for TheWilderness Society from 1975–1979 andearned a B.S. in forest science from Utah StateUniversity in 1974. Contact Dick at the HighUintas Preservation Council, P.O. Box 72,Hyrum, Utah 84319, USA. Telephone: (801)245-6747; e-mail: [email protected].

Questions about what is and is not native shouldbe referred to qualified scientific committees forresolution, not to local managers responsive tohunting and fishing clientele.

Mt. Timpanogos Wilderness and transplantthem to the Mt. Nebo Wilderness. An en-vironmental assessment analyzing the im-pacts of helicopters on wilderness valueswill be completed, but it will not focus onthe real issue of concern—the transloca-tion and introduction of nonindigenousmountain goats to wilderness.

A separate study has been proposedby the USFS to study the environmentalimpacts of the mountain goat populationsintroduced in 1967 on Lone Peak (des-ignated as wilderness in 1978) and intoMt. Timpanogos in 1981 (designated aswilderness in 1984). This would be thefirst systematic study of mountain goatimpacts on any Utah transplant sites.Studies were not proposed for the Mt.Nebo Wilderness or High Uintas trans-plant sites. By way of a memorandum ofagreement (Ashley National Forest/UDWR 1996) for the Uintas introduction,the USFS has pledged to initiate habitatstudies with the huge caveat, “as fundsare available.” The USFS has also sug-gested a scientific review in cooperation

of wilderness resources to a broader rec-ognition that wilderness represents a liv-ing and changing ecosystem is altering ourview of the world. Should wildlife and fish-eries be managed for crop productionwithin wilderness? The answer to thisquestion raises additional questions suchas: “Should salamanders be as importantas rainbow trout?”; and “Should cougarsbe as important as elk?” Guidance is of-fered by existing USFS policy and estab-lished wilderness management principles.Those principles remind us that “naturalprocesses must operate freely,” that humanbenefits are secondary to “preserving wil-derness character,” and that “wildernessdependent activities” must be favored(Hendee, Lucas, and Stankey 1990; USDA1990; USFS 1987). In wilderness, wild-ness matters.

Summaryand ConclusionsRecent policy changes by the USFS, trans-mitted in a letter from the chief’s office to


Ashley National Forest and NortheasternRegional Office of the Utah Division ofWildlife Resources. 1996. Memorandumof agreement.

Bahls, P. 1992. The status of fish populationsand management of high mountain lakesin the western United States. NW Science,66(3): 183–193.

———. 1990. Ecological implications of troutintroductions to lakes of the SelwayBitterroot Wilderness, Idaho. Master’sthesis, Oregon State University.

Chapman, J., and G. Feldhamer. 1982. WildMammals of North America. Baltimore andLondon: Johns Hopkins University Press.

Duff, D. 1995. Fish stocking in U.S. federalwilderness areas. IJW, 1 (1 ):17–19.

Hendee, J., G. Stankey, and R. Lucas. 1990.Wilderness Management. Golden, Colo.:North American Press: 270–272.

Johnson, R. L. 1977. Distribution, abundanceand management status of mountain goatsin North America. First Annual SymposiumMountain on Goats: 7pp.

Knapp, 1996. Non-native trout in natural lakesof the Sierra Nevada: an analysis of theirdistribution and impacts on native aquaticbiota. Sierra Nevada Ecosystem Project(III): 363–407.

Leopold, A. 1949. A Sand County Almanac.New York: Oxford University Press.

Lyon, I 1989. Wilderness—a precious heritage.Utah Wilderness Review SpecialCommemorative Issue (Autumn).

McCoy, K., E. Krumpe, and S. Allen. 1995.Limits of acceptable change planning—evaluating implementation by the U.S.Forest Service. IJW, 1(2): 18–22.

Murray, M. 1994. Reconsidering fish stockingof high wilderness lakes. Wild Earth(Fall):50–52.

Nash, R. 1983. Wilderness and the American Mind.New Haven, Conn.: Yale University Press.

Newmark, W. 1995. Extinction of mammalpopulations in western North American parks.Conservation Biology, 9(3): 512–526.

————-. 1987. A land-bridge island perspectiveon mammalian extinctions in western NorthAmerican parks. Nature, 325: 430–432.

Noss, R. 1996. Soul of the wilderness. IJW,2(2): 5–8.

Noss, R., and A. Cooperrider. 1994. SavingNature’s Legacy. Washington, D.C.: IslandPress.

Noss, R., H. Quigley, M. Hornocker, T. Merrill, andP. Paquet. 1996. Conservation biology andcarnivore conservation in the Rocky Mountains.Conservation Biology 10(4): 949–963.

Olympic National Park, 1988. Letter to AshleyNational Forest, Vernal Ranger District,August 30.

Rideout, C, and R. S. Hoffman, 1975. Oreamnosamericanus, mammalian species no. 63.American Society of mammalogists.

Shiozawa, D., and R. P. Evans. 1993.Relationships between cutthroat troutpopulations from ten Utah streams in theColorado River and bonneville drainages.

Interim Report to Utah Division of WildlifeResources, Contract No. 292–2377.

UDWR. 1993. Utah Division of WildlifeResources letter to Utah WildernessAssociation, February 10.

———. 1975. Management plan for the UtahRocky Mountain goat.

USDA Forest Service. 1996. NEPA andmanagement of fish and wildlife withstates. Letter from the Chief. WashingtonOffice: Washington, D. C.

———. 1995. Forest Service manual chapter2640. Washington, D. C.: U. S. GovernmentPrinting Office.

———. 1990. Forest Service manual, chapter2320. Washington, D.C: U.S. GovernmentPrinting Office.

USFS Wilderness Office. 1987. An enduringresource of wilderness: managementprinciples. Washington, D.C: U.S.Government Printing Office.

Utah Wilderness Association, special edition.1993. A proposal for a Colorado Rivercutthroat trout refugium, Yellowstone River,High Uintas Wilderness (Fall).

Wharton, T. 1993. Group wants area of HighUintas to be refuge for rare Utah trout. SaltLake Tribune, November 5.

Wilkinson, C, and M. Anderson. 1985. Landand resource planning in the NationalForests. Oregon Law Review, 64 (1 and2), University of Oregon.

Zeveloff, S. 1988. Mammals of the IntermountainWest. Salt Lake City: University of Utah Press.

REFERENCES


ANTARCTICA IS A WORLD OF ITS OWN. It is the cold-est, iciest, windiest, highest, and remotest of the world’scontinents, girded by the stormiest ocean. Equivalent

in area to the United States and Mexico combined, it expandsto more than double its size each winter as the surroundingseas turn to ice. The vast Antarctic ice sheet, on average 2,000meters thick, stores about 90% of the worlds fresh water—enough to raise the global sea level by 60 meters if all the icemelted. Ice covers virtually everything, and life on the fewscattered patches of bare land is very impoverished. Onlyprimitive forms of vegetation can survive—lichens, mosses,liverworts, and algae—and there are only two higher-levelplants, a low-growing cushion plant and a small grass. Thelargest true land animals are two kinds of tiny wingless midges,while the sparse, stony soils harbor only small nematodeworms and a variety of springtail insects. Life in the freshwa-ter lakes is confined to tiny shrimps and other small forms ofaquatic animals.

In contrast, life in the Antarctic seas is abundant. Thenutrient-rich southern waters sustain a massive web of life,at the base of which are large numbers of plankton, whichin turn sustain fish, squid, seabirds, seals, and whales. Abouthalf of the biomass of animal plankton is made up of justone species—the small crustacean, krill (Euphausia superba),occurring as vast swarms in surface waters. Krill is the staplefood of the great whales, and the multitudes of seals, pen-guins, and other seabirds. The total population of crabeaterseals, which are the most numerous of the six types of Ant-arctic seals, may be about 20 million individuals, while thereare around 10 million breeding pairs of penguins (sevenspecies) and in excess of 100 million pairs of albatrossesand petrels.

Human Interest in AntarcticaThe history of human contact with Antarctica is a short one.The English navigator/explorer James Cook, who in the late18th century was the first to penetrate the Antarctic realm,dismissed Terra Incognita Australis as “not worth the discover-ing,” though he reported the coast of South Georgia teemingwith seals. Not surprisingly, it was sealers who first set foot onthe continent in the 1820s, and they were followed in quicksuccession by whalers, explorers, scientists, and, in the last 30years or so, by tourists. Scientist/explorers opened up the con-tinent in the so-called “heroic era” around the turn of this cen-tury, but the major catalyst for scientific research was theInternational Geophysical Year of 1957–1958. This, in turn,gave rise in 1959 to the Antarctic Treaty, a unique internationalagreement among 12 nations who pledged to maintain Antarc-tica as a realm of peaceful scientific cooperation. When theTreaty entered into force in 1961, Antarctica became, as it re-mains today, the only significant region on Earth, apart fromthe high seas, governed under international law.

Today the number of treaty states has grown to include 26Consultative Parties (who have active research programs in Ant-arctica and full decision-making powers) and a further 14Nonconsultative (acceding) Parties. They meet together annu-ally and make decisions, expressed as recommendations, by con-sensus. Treaty recommendations normally require enactment indomestic law to make them binding on citizens of the treatynations. While the treaty covers all land and sea poleward oflatitude 60 degrees south, the legal system was extended northinto the Southern Ocean in 1980 by the Convention for theConservation of Antarctic Marine Living Resources (CCAMLR), es-tablished to regulate sustainable fisheries in Antarctic waters. Simi-larly, the Convention for the Conservation of Antarctic Seals (CCAS)of 1972 provides regulations for management of commercial


ENVIRONMENTAL MANAGEMENT FORANTARCTIC WILDERNESS

BY PAUL R. DINGWALL

Abstract: The most barren and inhospitable wilderness on Earth, Antarctica is of vital importance to humanity. Itsrocks and enveloping ice sheet hold the keys to unlocking our planet’s history; its huge landmass and surrounding seasexert great influence on the world’s oceans and weather systems; its waters nourish vast quantities of marine life ofgrowing importance as food for sustaining human societies; and its immense scenic beauty has the power to inspireand uplift those who visit it, and the many more who will never experience it firsthand. Today, however, in this, theworld’s last great wilderness, we face a monumental challenge: How can we safeguard the immeasurable conservationvalues of Antarctica in the face of mounting economic, commercial, and political interest in the region and its resources,and the attendant threat of environmental deterioration? Recent agreement among the countries who collectivelygovern Antarctica on comprehensive rules for environmental management holds great promise that the challenge canbe successfully met.


sealing, should such activities ever resume.The Antarctic Treaty Parties are advised bya Scientific Committee on Antarctic Re-search (SCAR) established in 1958, whilecooperative action and information ex-change among national Antarctic researchprograms are promoted by a Council ofNational Antarctic Program Managers(COMNAP).

Human Impact on AntarcticaLocated well beyond the frontier of per-manent human settlement, Antarcticaremains, for the most part, an untram-meled wilderness, but it is by no meanspristine. Soon after it was discovered,Antarctica felt the onslaught of humanexploitation, which first targeted themarine resources. In just a few decadesof the early 19th century, Antarctica’s furseals were brought to the brink of extinc-tion, and the subsequent onset of whal-ing in the 20th century saw stocks ofwhales exhausted one species after theother. Today, although the whales are pro-tected by a moratorium on commercialharvesting and establishment of a hemi-sphere-wide sanctuary under interna-tional law, the recovery of whalepopulations may never be complete. Incontrast, with the cessation of the seal-ing industry, Antarctica’s fur seals haverebounded spectacularly to at least theirpre-exploitation populations. From thelate 1960s, new fisheries commenced inthe Southern Ocean for the massiveswarms of surface-living krill and for rockcod and ice fish. All these experiencedthe classic short-term episodes of “boomand bust,” which are neither economi-cally nor ecologically sustainable. Todaythe new target is the highly valuablePatagonian toothfish, and already thereis evidence of excessive harvest, much ofit taken illegally in breach of agreed catchlimits set under CCAMLR.

On land, steadily expanding researchprograms have witnessed the establish-ment of more than 40 scientific stations,including buildings, airstrips, and otherfacilities, as well as increased ship andair traffic. A small but burgeoning tour-ist industry is adding to the traffic con-gestion, particularly around scientificstations, and raising concerns about cu-mulative human impacts. Local pollutionfrom garbage and other disposed wastes

and fuels have been added to by pollut-ants such as DDT and polychlorinatedbiphenyls (PCBs), originating from dis-tant industrialized areas. Of even moreconcern is the recognition that multi-source global pollution from chlorofluo-rocarbons and other chemicals causesserious depletion of stratigraphic ozoneover Antarctica, and the impact of “green-house” gases on global warming may havea significant impact on the melting ofAntarctic glaciers and ice shelves.

Taken together, these pressures andrisks of environmental damage make the

case for urgent action to ensure that thewilderness qualities of the Antarctic re-gion are not damaged by further uncon-trolled human exploitation. The AntarcticTreaty nations took action accordingly.

Environmental ManagementIn 1991, on the 30th anniversary of theAntarctic Treaty, the governing nations ofAntarctica introduced the most sweepingreforms in the treaty’s history In signingthe Protocol on Environmental Protectionto the Antarctic Treaty (the Madrid Proto-col), the treaty parties declared Antarctica

Antarctica is a world of its own. It is the coldest,iciest, windiest, highest, and remotest of theworld’s continents, girded by the stormiest ocean.


to be “a natural reserve devoted to peaceand science,” and committed themselvesto the “... protection of the Antarctic en-vironment and its dependent and associ-ated ecosystems, and the intrinsic valueof Antarctica, including its wilderness andaesthetic values ... .” The wide-rangingprovisions of the Protocol assemble andrevise all existing environmental regula-tions under the treaty, and establish newrules applying to all human activities inthe Antarctic. Significantly, the Protocolimposes a ban on mining in the Antarc-tic for 50 years. The Protocol also estab-lishes some fundamental environmentalprinciples; promotes cooperative plan-ning and conduct of activities in the treatyarea; establishes an institutional frame-work for implementing the Protocol; andspecifies the legal obligations on the par-ties with respect to compliance, inspec-tion, reporting, and dispute settlement,among others. Environmental rules areset out in a series of five technical an-nexes, dealing in turn with environmen-tal impact assessment, conservation offlora and fauna, waste disposal, preven-

tion of marine pollution, and area pro-tection and management.

Environmental Impact AssessmentAll activities are subject to environmen-tal impact assessment procedures, thoughdiffering restrictions apply, depending onwhether a proposed activity is assessedas having less than or more than a minoror transitory impact. Activities with lesserimpacts proceed through an Initial Envi-ronmental Evaluation (1EE) only, whilethose of greater potential impact undergoa Comprehensive Environmental Evalu-ation (CEE), which includes public noti-fication, consultation among allConsultative Parties, and final approvalat an Antarctic Treaty Consultative Meet-ing. Once an approved activity has be-gun, monitoring and reportingprocedures must be set in place to deter-mine whether or not an activity is beingconducted in accordance with the CEEand the principles of the Protocol.

Conservation of Flora and FaunaRules established for conservation of na-tive flora and fauna require that permitsbe obtained to authorize scientific collec-tions, sampling, and any research activ-ity that might cause harmful interferenceto plants and animals and their habitats.There are special provisions governinginterference with a listed group of Spe-cially Protected Species, and strict rulesfor avoiding the introduction to Antarc-tica of non-native species, parasites, anddiseases. Controversially, this included arequirement for the removal by 1994 ofall dogs from Antarctica, including thehuskies traditionally used to pull the sledsof field expeditions.

Waste DisposalThe Protocol requires that the amount ofwaste produced, or disposed of, in theAntarctic be reduced as far as is practi-cable. Past and present waste disposalsites, including abandoned work sites, areto be cleaned up. Some materials, suchas PCBs, nonsterile soil, polystyrenebeads used in packaging, and pesticides(except for approved scientific or hygienicpurposes) are prohibited in Antarctica,while others have to be removed, includ-ing radioactive materials, electrical bat-teries, excess liquid, solid fuels,

containers, rubber, lubricating oils, andplastics. Burnable wastes not removedhave to be incinerated in ways that re-duce harmful emissions, and open burn-ing of rubbish is to be completely phasedout by the 1998-1999 season. Sewageand domestic liquid wastes must not bedisposed of onto sea ice or ice shelves,but may be discharged directly into thesea where conditions exist for rapid dis-persal. Waste management plans, super-vised by a designated officer, are requiredfor all scientific stations and work sites.

Marine PollutionRules for preventing marine pollution areintended to reduce the impacts of shipoperations on marine and littoral ecosys-tems by prohibiting discharges of oil,noxious substances, plastics, and all othergarbage. Moreover, it is forbidden to dis-charge untreated sewage or food wastes(which must be passed through a grinder)into the sea within 12 nautical miles ofthe land or ice shelves—though smallvessels such as yachts are exempted.

Area Protection and ManagementUnder the Antarctic Treaty all sovereigntyclaims are set aside, and ordinary rulesof ownership of territory do not apply.Special protection and management pro-visions, however, are required for areasacknowledged as having significant natu-ral, scientific, historic, or landscape val-ues, or for areas where multiple usesmight cause undesirable environmentalimpact or give rise to disruption betweenconflicting activities. Thus, the Protocolprovides for designation of Antarctic Spe-cially Protected Areas (ASPAs) to protectunique terrestrial or marine ecosystems,key wildlife breeding sites, and impor-tant historic sites, such as huts from theheroic era of exploration. Managementplans are required for ASPAs, which mayrestrict access or the types of activitiesconducted in them, and permits are re-quired to enter ASPAs. Similarly, Antarc-tic Specially Managed Areas (ASMAs)may be designated where additional plan-ning and coordinated management ofactivities are required. Typical examplesinclude areas where scientific stations,historic sites, research areas, andpopular tourist landing destinations co-incide, and there are risks from mutual

Scientific station port facilities at McAAurdo Station.Photo by Gordon Cessford.


interference or cumulative environmen-tal impacts. Management plans are alsorequired for ASMAs, but entry is notcontrolled by permit. Considerableprogress has been made already in sys-tematically reviewing and redesignatingas ASPAs the 55 existing protected ar-eas and more than 70 historic sites, andseveral areas, such as Ross Island in theRoss Sea Region, are proposed for des-ignation as ASMAs.

Future RequirementsThe Madrid Protocol establishes an envi-ronmental management regime, which isas sophisticated as any comparable re-gime in any other major region of theworld. But it is not yet complete.

Six years after its adoption the Pro-tocol has still not entered into force, asthere remains one Consultative Party,Russia, still to ratify it (though ratifica-tion is apparently imminent). Thus, thework done to date in implementing theProtocol has been undertaken on a vol-untary basis by the treaty countries. ATransitional Environmental WorkingGroup has conducted the work to bedone eventually by the principal institu-tion created under the Protocol—theCommittee for Environmental Protection(CEP). This committee, representative ofall Protocol parties, is to provide adviceon, among others, application of environ-mental impact procedures, operation andelaboration of the protected area system,inspection and reporting procedures,collection and exchange of information,and the need for scientific research andmonitoring. The committee is encour-aged to consult as appropriate with SCARand the scientific committee of CCAMLR,the heads of which are invited observersat meetings of the CEP Other relevant sci-entific, environmental, and technical or-ganizations, such as the United NationsEnvironment Program (UNEP) and theWorld Conservation Union (IUCN), mayalso be invited to participate as observ-ers at meetings of the CEP

Issues of compliance also remain in-complete. In particular, the rules and pro-cedures to address liability forenvironmental damage and remedial re-sponse action have yet to be decided.Several special meetings of the Treatyparties have worked on the development

of an Annex on Liability for the Protocol,but an agreement on rules governing thiscomplex, but vital, element of the regimeremains elusive.

Some questions remain about theadequacy of the coverage of the Proto-col. For example, the Protocol doesn’tapply to activities carried out under otherlegal instruments of the Antarctic TreatySystem, such as CCAS and CCAMLR,which govern sealing and fishing activi-ties, respectively. Moreover, jurisdictionunder the Protocol is confined to theAntarctic Treaty Area, bounded by 60

north into the Southern Ocean as theAntarctic Convergence—the naturalouter limit of the Antarctic marine realmat 45–55 degrees south.

Nor is it clear whether the Protocolapplies in the case of the sea floor, orwhether jurisdiction of the seabed is con-fined to the International Seabed Author-ity under the UN Law of the SeaConvention. In a worst-case scenario,deep seabed mining for oil or other re-sources might be able to proceed legallyin Antarctica despite the Protocols banon mining.

There are special provisions governing interferencewith a listed group of Specially Protected Species,and strict rules for avoiding the introduction toAntarctica of non-native species, parasites, anddiseases.

degrees south latitude; however, this areadoesn’t entirely encompass the naturalfeeding range of important Antarcticwildlife species, such as petrels and pen-guins. Given the Protocols aim to pro-tect the totality of the Antarcticenvironment, including its dependentand associated ecosystems, there is astrong argument for extending theboundary of jurisdiction at least as far

Some concerns have also been ex-pressed that the Protocol doesn’t specifi-cally address the management oftourism, which is the fastest growing hu-man activity in Antarctica and, apartfrom fishing, the only commercial one.The Protocols provisions, in fact, applyto all human activities, but treaty coun-tries that are either “gateways” for tour-ists to the Antarctic, or which have major

The unique ice-free Dry Valleys of Antarctica’s Ross Sea region. Photo by Antarctica NZ.


tour companies organizing Antarctic ex-peditions, will be required to elaborateon the Protocol to provide rules to gov-ern the growing tourist traffic. NewZealand, for example, has recently devel-oped a set of guidelines and proceduresfor visitors to the Ross Sea Region, basedon its own ratifying legislation, coveringaspects of environmental impact assess-ment, notification and approval of activi-ties, environmental codes of conduct,reporting procedures, and the placementof official government representativesaboard tour vessels (see p. 7 of Cessfordin this issue).

Thus, there are several issues yet tobe resolved before the Protocol is fullyelaborated and firmly established as law,so that its implementation can begin inearnest. But it signifies recognition by theTreaty countries of the global significance

of Antarctica, and their commitment toenvironmental protection and sustainableuse of its resources. The real test, however,lies ahead. In the face of an ever-increasinghuman presence in Antarctica and mount-ing pressure for use of its resources, canAntarctica remain wild and beautiful withits biota and landscapes intact? The prom-ise of the Madrid Protocol gives muchconfidence for an affirmative answer.IJW

PAUL R. DINGWALL is a scientist and policyadvisor in the New Zealand Department ofConservation. He has 15 years’ experience inAntarctic law, policy, science, and conservationand has been a consultant on Antarctica to theWorld Conservation Union (IUCN). He can bereached at the Department of Conservation,Science and Research Division, P.O. Box10-420, Wellington, New Zealand. Telephone:

64-4-471 -0726; fax: 64-4-471 -3279; e-mail:[email protected].

SUGGESTED READINGBonner, W. N., and D. W. H. Walton, eds.

1985. Key Environments: Antarctica.Oxford, New York: Pergamon Press, 381pp. (This remains among the bestinstructional texts on Antarctica).

Two of the few published sources of the MadridProtocol are:

Verhoven, Joe, Philippe Sands, and MaxwellBruce, eds. 1992. Antarctic Environmentand International Law. London: Graham& Trotman, 228 pp.

Watts, Arthur. 1992. International Law and theAntarctic Treaty System. GrotiusPublications, Ltd., Cambridge, U.K.(Hersch Lauterpacht Memorial LectureSeries 11) 469 pp.


AS WE APPROACH A CENTURY OF HUMAN CON-TACT WITH ANTARCTICA, the quantity and range ofhuman activities in the frozen continent are rapidly

expanding. While hardy adventurers are still emulating theAntarctic explorers of the “heroic era,” we now also seeincreasingly Caribbean-style seaborne cruises, the movementand storage of vast quantities of diesel fuel, the possibility ofdrilling into subglacial lakes millions of years old, the intro-duction of jet skis, and the filming of a tobacco advertisement.

To ensure that this ever-widening range of activities and playersdoes not threaten the Antarctic wilderness, rules and regulationsare increasingly being introduced in this, the worlds last “unowned”continent. The Protocol on Environmental Protection to the Ant-arctic Treaty (Madrid Protocol) states that the protection of theAntarctic environment and dependent and associated ecosystems,and the intrinsic value of Antarctica (including wilderness, aes-thetic, and scientific values), shall be fundamental considerationsin the planning and conduct of all activities in the Antarctic TreatyArea. Accordingly, the Protocol provides for a process of environ-mental impact assessment as a key way in which potential im-pacts are identified in advance of an activity proceeding with theintention of avoiding or mitigating the impacts.

So far, so good. But in a continent where individual opera-tors—both governmental and nongovernmental—run largelydiscrete and independent operations, and where each govern-ment considers itself sovereign within its own program, howcan the whole range of activities in Antarctica be effectivelymanaged to avoid or mitigate environmental impacts? Envi-ronmental impact assessments—done by individual operatorsfor their own activities—do not offer mechanisms by whichthe additive impact of an activity, when combined with thoseof other activities, can be assessed.

In September 1996, the World Conservation Union (IUCN)organized an international workshop of invited experts to discussand stimulate progress on practical aspects of minimization andmanagement of cumulative environmental impact in Antarctica(De Poorter and Dalziell 1997). This article is based on the ideasand recommendations of direct use to Antarctic operators, policymakers, and scientists that emerged from the workshop.

The Fraught Question of Cumulative ImpactsChanges to the environment caused by human activities are notsimply the product of individual impacts occurring indepen-

dently of each other but rather are the consequence of manyinteracting factors, the combined effects of which are not alwayswell understood (Cocklin 1989). Human activities may produceenvironmental impacts that are considered insignificant, but theinteraction and combination of these impacts over time and placemay well be significant. This has sometimes been referred to as“the nibbling effect” or “destruction by insignificant increments”(Dupuis 1997). The existence of such cumulative impacts meansthat dealing only with individual environmental impacts will notresult in adequate environmental management.


ANTARCTICA’S CHALLENGEFOR THE 21ST CENTURY

Managing Cumulative Environmental Impacts

BY JANET C. DALZIELL AND MAJ DE POORTER

Long-term impacts from footprints in moss vegetation. Photo by BritishAntarctic Survey.


There are several components to theconcept of cumulative impacts: (1) smallactions whose impacts seem “insignifi-cant” when viewed alone, can contributeto significant cumulative impacts whenviewed along with other past, present, orforeseeable future actions; (2) larger-scaleactivities can produce a “stream” of im-pacts, and the totality of impact from ac-tions includes indirect and secondaryimpacts and any activities or impacts thatmay be induced by the original activity(Dames, et al. 1981, quoted in Martin1991); (3) the interaction of impacts canbe additive or interactive (e.g., synergism,antagonism, biomagnification); (4) im-pacts may spread in time and/or space;and (5) several different operators maybeinvolved.

tive (e.g., synergistic, antagonistic,biomagnified).

Minimizing andManaging CumulativeImpactsWorkshop participants identified fiveexisting mechanisms that provide oppor-tunities for addressing cumulative im-pacts. Cumulative impacts can beassessed, managed, and avoided through:(1) use of the environmental impact as-sessment processes under the Protocol; (2)innovative use of existing area protectionmechanisms; (3) improved informationexchange and management; (4) increasedinternational cooperation; and (5) specificand targeted research and monitoring.

assess the cumulative impacts of multipleactivities over time and/or space.

Workshop participants agreed thatin order to ensure that environmentalimpact assessments and reviews or au-dits better address cumulative impactsthat: (1) wherever obligations regardingenvironmental impact are identified, itshould be taken that this includes cumu-lative impacts; and (2) that environmen-tal audits, along with monitoringprograms, should be encouraged as a wayof assessing cumulative impacts from ex-isting activities.

Protected Area MechanismsAnother major component of the Proto-col is its system for designating AntarcticSpecially Protected Areas (ASPAs), whichrestrict entry for scientific and/or protec-tion reasons, and Antarctic Specially Man-aged Areas (ASMAs), which are areassubject to high and/or multiple uses. Inboth cases, management plans are the keyto ensuring that the values of the area areprotected. It is the ASMA category, how-ever, which seems to offer a particularlygood means of addressing area-specificcumulative impacts. Essentially, the pro-cesses of writing and operating a man-agement plan for a multiple-use area will“internalize” the impact. By widening thescope of the activities being consideredin a single plan, the likelihood increasesthat activities whose impacts are contrib-uting to the overall impact are consid-ered and managed within that plan.Permits are required to authorize activi-ties in ASMAs, and, by providing a recordof activities, they could contribute to bet-ter management of cumulative impacts.

Other ways in which protected areamechanisms could and should be used inthe management of cumulative impactsinclude: (1) designation of short-termASPAs to provide interim protection whilelong-term operations are developed; (2)identification of pristine or near-pristineareas and the setting aside of large areas toprotect the integrity of remote regions; and(3) designation to allow time for recoveryof areas degraded in the past.

However, it cannot be overemphasizedthat these mechanisms will only work ef-fectively in a climate of strong and effectivecooperation and communication among alloperators in the area in question.

Effective and efficient exchange andmanagement of information among operatorsis critical for the minimization of cumulativeenvironmental impacts.

Although the existence of cumula-tive environmental impact has long beenacknowledged, the formal study of it isrelatively recent (Cocklin 1989,Damman, et al. 1995). The earliest Ant-arctic study specifically focusing on cu-mulative impact did not take place untilthe early 1990s (Martin 1991).

Definition of CumulativeImpact in the AntarcticContextWorkshop participants adopted the follow-ing definition of cumulative impact in theAntarctic context: “a cumulative impact isthe impact of combined past, present, andreasonably foreseeable activities. These ac-tivities may occur over time and space.”

Cumulative impact may, for ex-ample, be the result of the repetitive oc-currence of a single activity, the combinedeffect of multiple activities by one or sev-eral agents, or individually minor butcollectively significant activities. Cumu-lative impact may be additive or interac-

Environmental ImpactAssessment ProcessesThe Madrid Protocol sets in place a tieredsystem of environmental impact assess-ment as one of the primary means bywhich activities in Antarctica come un-der scrutiny. However, the system workson a project-by-project basis and does notimmediately and obviously providemechanisms for assessing cumulative im-pacts. Environmental impact assessmentdone jointly by governmental and/ornongovernmental operators could over-come some of the problems inherent inthis piecemeal approach.

Another mechanism frequently em-ployed by national Antarctic programs—although not required by the Protocol—is that of environmental reviews or audit-ing, where the environmental impacts ofexisting projects or programs are assessed.These studies are also subject to the sameshortcomings with respect to cumulativeimpacts as are EIAs. However, they could,if constructed in the right way, be used to


Information Exchangeand ManagementEffective and efficient exchange andmanagement of information among op-erators is critical for the minimizationof cumulative environmental impacts.Those unfamiliar with Antarctica wouldprobably be surprised at the difficultyfaced in trying to build up a picture ofactivities that are taking place, or havetaken place, in a particular location. Oncloser consideration, however, this isnot so surprising, given the diversityof governmental and nongovernmentalorganizations that conduct activities inAntarctica, and the complete absenceof a central repository for this sort ofinformation.

Antarctic Treaty governments havedeveloped some rudimentary forms ofinformation exchange, but they are notgeared toward the requirements of en-vironmental protection and manage-ment. One of the outgrowths of thisworkshop was the recommendation thatthis system be reviewed in order to pro-vide information more useful for thesepurposes. For example, there needs tobe timely and frequent distribution oflists of completed and planned environ-mental impact assessments and permitsissued, so that someone considering anactivity can identify potential overlapsor conflicts.

Along with increased informationexchange comes an ever-increasing callfor effective systems of managing theinformation so that it can be accessedquickly and easily by those who needit. It was also suggested that in areaswith multiple operators (e.g., wherethere are several stations) a commondatabase of activities in the area wouldbe very useful. Workshop membersnoted that it will not be possible to meetcumulative impact obligations withoutan effective data management system.This statement is easily made, but inpractice such a system will require: (1)links with national Antarctic programdata systems; (2) links with data fromAntarctic scientists and operators; (3)consistency of data for comparability;(4) cost and cost effectiveness; (5) en-suring public access; and (6) global in-formation systems (GIS).

International CooperationIt is obviously preferable to avoid cumu-lative impacts from the start. A key wayin which the overall impact of human ac-tivities in the Antarctic can be reduced isthrough a reduction in duplication ofactivities, particularly the logistical infra-structure.

As well as the clear benefits that ac-crue to the environment from differentoperators pooling their logistic resources(e.g., through sharing stations), a widerconcept of international cooperationshould also be considered. In particu-lar, in areas of high and multiple-opera-tor use, there is room for considerablymore interoperator cooperation andeven joint planning. It will not be pos-sible for operators planning an activityto be able to assess and mitigate cumu-lative impacts unless they have fullknowledge of activities conducted in thepast and planned for the future by otheroperators in the area.

To address these needs, one couldenvisage regional planning and manage-ment groups composed of all those whooperate in a given area. Such groupswould jointly plan activities so as to avoidoverlaps and conflicts, and would be ableto foresee where, for example, multipro-gram environmental impact assessmentexercises would be useful. Such workmight lead to tourist operators decidingto vary their routes, scientists choosing a

different study site, or two stations shar-ing new fuel facilities. It will also be im-portant that all operators—even thosethat may not (yet) be inside the AntarcticTreaty System—plan and conduct theiractivities in the same spirit of interna-tional cooperation.

Further ResearchMany aspects of cumulative impacts arenot well understood, and a wide field ofresearch is opened up by questions suchas: “What are the mechanisms, path-ways, and processes by which impactsaccumulate,” and “Which parametersshould be studied or monitored to mea-sure impacts on wildlife?” For example,changes in population seem obvious, butother measures such as habituation ofrecruitment or age distribution may bejust as important.

Long-term ChallengesIn the long term, yet another level ofcomplexity will need to be addressed.For example, the effect on dependentand associated ecosystems, including themarine ecosystem and Subantarctic is-lands, from Antarctic activities will haveto be included in any assessment andmanagement of cumulative impacts. Theeffects of activities outside Antarctica,such as global climate change andtransboundary contamination,will alsoneed to be tackled.

Cumulative human impacts from scientific base facilities and tourist visits are evident in places such as thisAdelie Penguin colony. Photo by Paul R. Dingwall.


Management of cumulative impactsis undeniably a major challenge for thosewho have guardianship over Antarctica.Almost by definition, cumulative impactsare difficult to foresee and avoid or miti-gate, but the obligations set by the Pro-tocol mean that these are challenges thatmust be met. IJW

JANET C. DALZIELL and MAJ DE POORTER havecontributed for a number of years to the AntarcticPrograms of Greenpeace and the Antarctic andSouthern Ocean Coalition. They are membersof the World Conservation Union’s AntarcticAdvisory Committee. They can be reached c/oGreenpeace New Zealand Inc., 113 Valley

Road, Mt. Eden, Auckland, New Zealand.Telephone 64-4-630-6317; fax: 64-4-630-7121;e-mail: [email protected] [email protected]. Theyboth live in Auckland, New Zealand.

REFERENCESCocklin, C. 1989. Methodological approaches

to the assessment of cumulativeenvironmental change. EnvironmentalScience Occasional Publication CEC–01.University of Auckland, New Zealand.

Damman, D. C, D. R. Cressman, and M. H.Sader. 1995. Cumulat ive ef fectsassessment: the development of practical

frameworks. Impact Assessment, 13:433–454.

De Poorter, M., and J. C. Dalziell. 1997.Cumulative impacts in Antarctica:minimization and management. In Proc. ofthe IUCN Workshop on Cumulative Impactsin Antarctica, Washington, D.C., September18–21,1996. IUCN, Gland, Switzerland.

Dupuis, S. 1997. Concept of cumulative impact.Paper presented at the Workshop onCumulative Impacts in Antarctica,Washington, D.C., September 18–21, 1996.

Martin, L. M. 1991. Cumulative impacts atCape Royds, Ross Sea, Antarctica. MScThesis, University of Auckland, NewZealand.


Human Impacts on Antarctica:Global, Regional, and Local

Global ImpactsIn trying to understand changes in the world’s environmentwe need to know what is natural and what is induced by ouractivities. The best place to measure the elements of change isa place free of industry and people—and Antarctica has noindustry and very few people. Atmospheric mixing transportspollutants around the world and incorporates many of them inthe snow falling on Antarctica, thereby providing a record ofthe atmospheric changes. The snow turns to ice, preserving anhistorical record stretching back almost 500,000 years. Analy-sis of these snow and ice samples has identified long-term pat-terns of change in the greenhouse gases CO

2 and methane, and

recent changes in global levels of radionuclides (from atmo-spheric nuclear testing) and lead (from mining and leaded fuel).Combining these historical data with current daily atmosphericmeasurements enhances our ability to identify current trendsin CO

2, CH

4, nitrogen oxides, and CFCs. For example, such

measurements have already alerted the world to serious deple-tion in levels of atmospheric ozone. The Antarctic data providethe baselines against which changes in the rest of the world aremeasured.

There are also other global baselines established by Ant-arctic monitoring. Nobody uses pesticides in Antarctica, someasurements there can establish the baseline for global levelsof these pollutants (Bidleman, et al. 1993). Organochlorinepesticides, polychloro-biphenyls (PCBs), and mercury havebeen clearly detected in penguins and petrels (Luke, et al. 1989),fish (Subramanian, et al. 1983), and even mosses and lichens(Bacchi, et al. 1986). Increasingly sensitive and sophisticatedanalytical equipment is even providing leads to where the pes-ticides might have originated.

Regional ImpactsThere is detrimental impact on the Antarctic environment bythe natural transfer of pollutants manufactured elsewhere. Thenext stage is to ask what changes are occurring, traceable to

human activities, at a regional level in Antarctica? There arethree areas of concern—one on land and two in the sea.

On land the use of leaded fuel by aircraft has providedtrails of lead contamination in the snow below the regular flightpaths, as has the burning of leaded fuel in station generators(Wolff 1990). However, the extent of this problem is rapidlydeclining as newer aircraft are introduced and stations changeto cleaner fuel. In the Southern Ocean the problems are associ-ated with fishing and involve monitoring organized by the Con-vention for the Conservation of Marine Living Resources(CCAMLR). There is international agreement that the fisheriesaround Antarctica should be managed sustainably and in amanner that protects the integrity of the marine ecosystem. Tocheck that catches are not too large, thus endangering the foodsupplies for seabirds and marine mammals, CCAMLR runs aninternational monitoring program that measures changes in thepopulations of indicator species. At present these include furseals and four species of penguins (Adelie, chinstrap, gentoo,and macaroni) as well as Antarctic petrels and the blackbrowedalbatross. The second area of concern is the increasing amountof marine litter found throughout the Southern Ocean. Plasticstraps entangle fur seals (Croxall, et al. 1990), and plastic bags

IN TERNA TIONAL PERSPEC TIVES

ENVIRONMENTAL MONITORINGMeasuring the Damage

BY DAVID W. H. WALTON

Abstract: The pure white of the snow is often assumed to imply that Antarctica is a pristine wilderness. Yet recentlythere have been increasing reports of how the continent is being seriously polluted. The truth lies somewhere betweenthese extremes. Only through monitoring the changes occurring can the “environmental health” of Antarctica beestablished confidently. Recently, there has been a rapid increase in many types of environmental monitoring inAntarctica. Why is this, and what wider relevance does it have?

McMurdo Scientific Station (USA), Ross Island, is the largest scientific base inAntarctica. Photo by Gordon Cessford.


and granules are eaten by birds, fillingtheir crops and causing starvation. Regu-lar surveys of particular beaches aroundthe Antarctic, using a standardized re-cording format, document the amountand possible origin of the wide range ofmaterials discarded overboard, mostly bythe fishing fleets.

to ensure that the measurements madeare critical, scientifically defensible, anduseful both for understanding ecosystemprocesses and for modifying human ac-tivities (Walton and Shears 1994).

Deciding what to monitor as mea-sures of local impacts is at present thesubject of considerable discussion andresearch. The continent is a biologicaldesert. There is less than 1% ice-freeground, and it is on this that essentiallyall the terrestrial flora and fauna occur.However, the diversity is low in both theplants (only two flowering plants andaround 300 species of lichens andmosses) and animals (about 120 speciesof invertebrates with the largest beingonly a few millimeters long). All the birdsare seabirds, coming ashore only to breedand molt, as do the seals. In the sea thereis much greater diversity but all the spe-cies grow very slowly because of the lowwater temperature.

One of the most effective forms ofmonitoring outside Antarctica is to mea-sure the success of a key species known tobe sensitive to specific stress or disturbance.However, our knowledge of the biologyof many Antarctic species is too limitedat present to be able to choose any keyspecies with a degree of certainty. A fo-cus of research at present is establishingwhether particular species of fish or mol-lusks can be key indicators. A secondmonitoring method is to look for changesin community structure or the abundanceof several species. Here again the slowgrowth and reproduction of many Ant-arctic species makes this difficult, al-though long-term measurements canprovide important indicators.

Choosing What to MonitorWhat are the most important local im-pacts that human activities can produce?We can consider three categories: directdisturbance and damage, chemical pol-lution by local activities or accidents, andintroduction of alien species.

DisturbancePenguins are abundant in many areas ofthe Antarctic and are known to react todisturbance by humans. Various investi-gations have been undertaken recently tosee if this can be quantified either physi-ologically (Culik, et al. 1990; Nimon, et

limited to the areas directly around theresearch stations, but concern has alsobeen expressed about remote fieldcamps, as well as the activities from re-search vessels. There is no doubt thatat some stations with a long period ofoccupancy (in some cases over 50years) there is evidence of activitiesundertaken in a less environmentallyenlightened age (Lenihan 1992). Care-fully angled photographs and a degreeof media hype have drawn attention towaste dumps at several stations, whichdo need serious attention, but thesewaste dumps are highly localized andare not significant sources of continen-tal-scale pollution.

Today, with a much heightenedresponsibility for a clean environment,these historical rubbish dumps are gradu-ally being removed. Far more important isthe change in mentality brought about bythe Madrid Protocol (see Dingwall article,p. 22, in this issue). The requirement thatall activities must be subject to Environ-mental Impact Assessment (EIA) beforebeing undertaken has brought with it achange of attitude among all the nationsoperating on the continent. The acceptanceof good waste management, such as recy-cling schemes and oil-spill contingencyplanning, in the conduct of all operationsis a very positive leap forward.

Monitoring of ImpactsAlong with this emphasis on good stew-ardship comes the need to monitor im-pacts to ensure that predictions of their

Open burning of waste, now banned under the MadridProtocol. Photo by Artarctica NZ.

The Antarctic is the world’s last greatwilderness and, with the judicious use ofmonitoring, not only can we keep it that waybut we can use it as a control area forassessing damage to the rest of the Earth.

Local ImpactsMost publicity and public concern havefocused on the localized impacts causedby scientific research and its logisticalsupport operations. Impacts are largely

effects are accurate. In undertaking thismore applied monitoring, a partnershipis being developed between the Antarc-tic science community and the nationaloperators of Antarctic research programs


al. 1995) or in terms of breeding success(Fraser and Patterson 1997). The studyof Culik used implanted electrodes tomeasure heart rate and showed that at-tacks of other penguins and the presenceof people and helicopters indicated in-creased stress. However, there was someevidence that birds could become habitu-ated to the presence of humans. Thestudy by Nimon used heartbeat measuredby an artificial egg. These measures indi-cated increased stress when people ap-proached the brooding bird, eventuallyresulting in desertion of the nest. Addi-tionally, their data indicated that attacksby other penguins also produced elevatedheart rates as the penguin defended itsnest. Both studies concluded that thesestresses might impair the ability of theparents to raise viable chicks, especiallyif the disturbance occurs frequently.

Other researchers have tested thehypothesis that rookeries visited fre-quently by tourists are likely to showlower breeding success than those notvisited at all. Fraser and Patterson (1997)measured the size of two such rookeriesof Adelie penguins at Anvers Island onthe west side of the Antarctic Peninsulaover a period of 13 years. Their data showthat it was the nonvisited control siterather than the tourist site that sufferedmajor decline in breeding success. Thissuggests there may be wider environmen-tal changes significantly affecting the lifecycle of these penguins.

PollutionPollution of the environment can be at-tributed to poor waste management, care-lessness, or accidents. Small fuel spills haveoccurred at many stations over the yearsbut more rigorous controls and carefulmonitoring now provide a great deal moreprotection against this occurrence. Some-times an accident occurs and provides aready-made test of how the ecosystem re-sponds to large-scale pollution. Such anaccident was the sinking of the Argentinesupply ship Bahia Paraiso at Anvers Islandin 1989. The ship spilled an estimated600,000 liters of diesel fuel, causing slicksthat dispersed over 100 square kilometersof sea surface among the surrounding is-lands and bays (Kennicutt 1990). An in-ternational monitoring effort wasundertaken over several years to assess the

effects of this and came to some surpris-ing conclusions (Penhale, et al. 1997).First, after a period of only two monthsthere was no evidence in the subtidalbenthic communities that the spill hadever happened, with only minor tracesof hydrocarbons in the sediments(Hyland, et al. 1994). Second, there wasevidence for rapid uptake into limpets,with up to 50% mortality in some areas.This probably caused a secondary effectof immediate food shortage for Domini-can gulls, but surprisingly the populationhas continued to decline rather thanshowing long-term recovery as might beexpected. Similarly, Cormorants lost100% of their chicks that year and activenests have since shown an 85% decline.Other birds suffered from the direct ef-fects of the oil, with Adelie penguins los-ing 13% of their numbers immediately,but no further decline in later years. Gi-ant petrels were not directly affected byoil on the water, or uptake via the foodchain. However, the high level of heli-copter activity around the wreck and thecontinuing disturbance by attempts to re-cover other materials frightened the birdsaway from their breeding grounds.

Introduced SpeciesIn the species-poor Antarctic environ-ment the introduction of alien speciescould cause important changes in com-munity structure if the introduced spe-cies survived. A considerable concern isat the microbiological level. What hap-pens to the fecal bacteria flushed out intothe Southern Ocean in the sewage outfallsof the scientific stations? Studies byMcFeters, et al. (1993) suggested lowwater temperature might aid long-termviability, especially if the bacteria wereincorporated into sediments. However,recent experiments by Statham andMcMeekin (1994) have shown that fecalE. coli, Salmonella, and Streptococcus arealways inactivated by solar radiation, sothe problem may only exist when bacte-ria are discharged under the protectionof an ice cover. More recently there havebeen reports of viruses in penguins(Gardner, et al. 1997). As yet we haveinsufficient data to decide if there is aproblem. Keeping Antarctic animals freeof introduced disease, however, mayprove to be increasingly difficult. Scientific drilling of ice cores. Photo by Antarctica NZ.

ConclusionsUnder the Madrid Protocol we have anexcellent set of rules for sensible man-agement of the Antarctic environment.Environmental monitoring in Antarcticaplays an important part in ensuring thatlocal impacts are minimized, regionalimpacts are identified and traced to thesource, and for enabling global pollutionbaselines to be identified and main-tained. In addition the long-term mea-surements of atmospheric compositioncan give us clear warnings of the patternsof future climatic change. The Antarcticis the world’s last great wilderness and,with the judicious use of monitoring, notonly can we keep it that way but we canuse it as a control area for assessing dam-age to the rest of the Earth. IJW

DAVID W. H. WALTON is an ecologist and head ofthe Terrestial and Freshwater Life SciencesDivision of the British Antarctic Survey based inCambridge, England. He is convenor of theGroup of Specialists on Environmental Affairsand Conservation, within the ScientificCommittee on Antarctic Research (SCAR). Hecan be reached at the British Antarctic Survey,High Cross, Madingley Road, Cambridge,England CB2 OET, United Kingdom. Telephone:44-1223-251 -592; fax: 44-1223-362-616;e-mail: [email protected].


Bacchi, E., D. Calamari, C. Gaggi, R. Fanelli,S. Focardi, and M. Morosoni. 1986.Chlorinated hydrocarbons in lichen andmoss samples from the Antarctic Peninsula.Chemosphere 15: 747–754.

Bidleman, T. E, M. D. Walla, R. Roura, E. Carr,and S. Schmidt. 1993. Orga-nochlorinepesticides in the atmosphere of theSouthern Ocean and Antarctica. MarinePollution Bulletin. 26: 258–262.

Croxall, J. P., S. Rodwell, and I. L. Boyd. 1990.Entanglement in man-made debris ofAntarctic fur seals at Bird Island, SouthGeorgia. Marine Mammal Science 6:221–233.

Culik, B., D. Adelung, and A. J. Woakes. 1990.The effects of disturbance on the heart rateand behaviour of Adelie penguins(Pygocelis adeliae) during the breedingseason. In Antarctic Ecosystems: EcologicalChange and Conservation, K. R. Kerry,and G. Hempel, eds. Berlin: Springer-Verlag: 177–182.

Fraser, W. R., and D. L. Patterson. 1997. Humandisturbance and long-term changes inAdelie penguin populations: a naturalexperiment at Palmer Station, AntarcticPeninsula. In Antarctic Communities:Species, Structure and Survival, B.

Battaglia, J. Valencia, and D. W. H.Walton, eds. Cambridge: CambridgeUniversity Press: 443–450.

Gardner, H., S. Brouwer, L. Gleeson, K. Kerry,and M. Riddle. 1997. Poultry virusinfection in Antarctic penguins. Nature387: 245.

Hyland, J., D. Laur, J. Jones, J. Shrake, D.Cadian, and L. Harris. 1994. Effects ofan oil spill on the soft-bottom macrofaunaof Arthur Harbour, Antarctica comparedwith long-term natural change. AntarcticScience 6: 37–44.

Kennicutt, M. C. 1990. Oil spillage inAntarctica: initial report of the NationalScience Foundation-sponsored quick-response team on the grounding of theBahia Paraiso. Environmental Science &Technology 24: 620–624.

Lenihan, H. S. 1992. Benthic marine pollutionaround McMurdo Station, Antarctica: asummary of findings. Marine PollutionBulletin 25: 318–323.

Luke, B. G., G. W. Johnstone, and E. J. Woehler.1989. Organochlorine pesticides, PCBsand mercury in Antarctic and sub-Antarcticseabirds. Chemosphere 19: 2,007–2,021.

McFeters, G. A., J. P. Barry, J. P. Howington, etal. 1993. Distribution of enteric bacteriain Antarctic seawater surrounding a

sewage outfall. Water Research 27: 645–650.

Nimon, A., R. Schroter, and B. Stonehouse.1995. Heart rate of disturbed penguins.Nature 374: 415.

Penhale, P. P., J. Coosen, and E. R. Marschoff.1997. The Bahia Paraiso: a case study inenvironmental impact, remediation andmonitoring. In Antarctic communities:species, structure and survival, B. Battaglia,J. Valencia, and D. W. H. Walton, eds.Cambridge: Cambridge University Press:437–442.

Statham, J. A., and T. A. McMeekin. 1994. Survivalof faecal bacteria in Antarctic coastal waters.Antarctic Science 6: 333–338.

Subramanian, B., S. Tanabe, H. Hidaka, andR. Tatsukawa. 1983. DDTs and PCBisomers and congeners in Antarctic fish.Archives of Environmental Contaminationand Toxicology 12: 621–626.

Walton, D. W. H., and J. Shears. 1994. Theneed for environmental monitoring inAntarctica: baselines, environmental impactassessments, accidents and footprints.International Journal of Environmental andAnalytical Chemistry 55: 77–90.

Wolff, E. W. 1990. Signals of atmosphericpollution in polar snow and ice. AntarcticScience 2: 189–205.

REFERENCES


ANTARCTICA IS OFTEN REFERRED TO AS A WILDER-NESS. But what does this term actually mean in theAntarctic context, and how does it relate to the use of

the term elsewhere?Some of the countries that have signed the 1991 Protocol

on Environmental Protection to the Antarctic Treaty have noareas that could be accurately described as “wilderness.” Thus,transferral of ideas directly to the Antarctic community, with-out taking into consideration both national differences and thegeographical uniqueness of the Antarctic, can cause confusion.An attempt is made to clarify the issue by looking at commentsof some of the early Antarctic explorers, before examining whatthe Antarctic Treaty System (ATS) has said about wilderness.These interpretations are then examined in the context of widerwilderness thinking, and possible directions for future conser-vation planning are developed.

The Views of Early ExplorersIn their writings, early Antarctic explorers, especially in the“heroic age” at the beginning of this century, give a fascinatingaccount of the physical environment and of their personal re-sponses to the polar landscape. In 1903 famous British Antarc-tic explorer Robert Falcon Scott wrote that the interior ofVictoria Land “must be considered the most desolate region inthe world. There is none other that is at once so barren, sodeserted, so piercingly cold, so windswept, or so fearsomelymonotonous.” (Scott 1929: 607).

Yet, Scott also wrote of the continent in more favorableterms. Even when sledging on the arduous three-month South-ern Journey in 1902, he recorded the beauty of snow crystalsfalling on a calm night:

As one plods along towards the midnight sun, one’s eyesnaturally fall on the plain ahead, and one realizes that thesimile of a gem-strewn carpet could never be more aptlyemployed than in describing the radiant path of the sun onthe snowy surface. It sparkles with a myriad points of brilliantlight, comprehensive of every color the rainbow can show,and is so realistic and near that it often seems one has but tostoop to pick up some glistening jewel. (Scott 1929: 441).

For those exploring the coast, such as the French navalcaptain Charcot in 1910, the ever-present ice brought bothdanger and beauty:

The mighty sea and the monstrous icebergs are playing theirgiant’s games under the grey and lowering sky, caressing orfighting, and in the midst of these marvelous manifestationsof nature, which are not made for man, we feel that we aremerely tolerated, although a kind of intimacy may be createdbetween us and our magnificent hosts (Charcot 1978: 289).

While many of the early visitors to the Antarctic graphi-cally described their surroundings in great detail, they rarelyused the word “wilderness.” This term has appeared regularlyonly during the last 30 years or so, and is now frequently usedin descriptions of the continent, especially in environmentaland popular writings.

The Antarctic Treaty SystemIn the more than 35 years since the Antarctic Treaty enteredinto force, a vast collection of documents has amassed includ-ing those from the Treaty’s Scientific Committee on AntarcticResearch (SCAR). From these we can find that the concept ofwilderness in the Antarctic has only gradually emerged.

Initially, the treaty nations focused on the development ofscientific research. As other activities such as tourism began todevelop (Reich 1980) concerns widened. In 1980 SCAR pro-duced “A Visitors Introduction to the Antarctic and Its Environ-ment,” a 28-page booklet that included recognition of “a generalawareness of the value of unspoilt nature or wilderness. The last

CONCEPTS OF WILDERNESSIN THE ANTARCTIC

BY ROSAMUNDE CODLING

IN TERNA TIONAL PERSPEC TIVES

The icy grandeur of Mt. Erebus, the active volcano on Ross Island, Antarctica.Photo by Antarctica NZ.


remaining extensive wilderness is theAntarctic.” (SCAR 1980: 26). Referencewas also made to the uniqueness of thecontinents scenery and wildlife, but thestatements were very general.

Shortly after, SCAR and the Interna-tional Union for the Conservation of Na-ture and Natural Resources (IUCN)jointly produced Conservation in the Ant-arctic (1UCN/SCAR 1986), a report thatrecognized the need to explore protectedarea concepts such as wilderness or parkdesignation, but the subject generally wasstill being treated in a broad-brush man-ner. One of the most expansive ATS com-ments concerning wilderness came fromthe SCAR document Objectives of Con-servation in the Antarctic. It was consid-ered necessary “to minimize disturbanceby human activity so that … unique fea-tures, localities or complexes of featuresand sites of scientific importance are un-disturbed ... cultural values, such as sce-nic beauty, inspirational quality,wilderness status and recreational poten-

tial can be maintained.” (1989: 182).However, no attempt was made to de-fine methodology to assess such values,or suggest appropriate management plansto protect them.

These generalizations continued inthe late 1980s, including a Recommen-dation from the XV Antarctic Treaty Con-sultative Meeting in Paris in October1989 calling for comprehensive measuresfor the protection of the Antarctic envi-ronment and dependent and associatedecosystems. In turn, this led to develop-ment of the Protocol on EnvironmentalProtection to the Antarctic Treaty, whichwas adopted in 1991.

At the heart of the Protocol is Article3, which covers a range of principles ap-plying to all Antarctic activities. The open-ing section of the Article refers to theintention to protect “the Antarctic environ-ment ... and the intrinsic value of Antarc-tica, including its wilderness and aestheticvalues.” Similar phraseology occurs threemore times in the Protocol or its Annexes,

but no closer definition is offered for theseterms (Article 3, section 2[b]vi; Annex V,Article 3.1 and Article 3.2 [g]).

These examples illustrate the patternthat has emerged from examination of themore formal Antarctic documents. Whileit is commendable that there has been agrowing recognition of wider environmen-tal concerns, there is as yet no firm under-standing as to how they are to beconsidered. Moreover, although the term“wilderness value” is now well-establishedin the ATS, there have been no attemptsto define what it means, or to identify spe-cific wilderness areas or develop compre-hensive management safeguards.

Explaining theConcept of WildernessThree writers have endeavored to expoundon the concept of polar wilderness. Mosley(1986) defined the “value of the Antarcticwilderness” as maintenance of natural ben-efits, political cooperation, and long-termenvironmental stability, although he didnot identify potential conflicts, such as per-manent structures and the issue of motor-ized transport.

Roots took an approach that was his-torically wider, giving an analysis thatseparated the European fascination withpolar wilderness from the indigenousview. He suggested that northern peopleshad been able to prosper within the Arc-tic environment because they had becomepart of the ecosystem. He concluded:

What do polar wildernessescontribute? They have providedessential elements of history, culture,knowledge, psyche, and spirit, forbetter or for worse, for at least thepast 2300 years. Today, particularly,they are important to our self-awareness, our environment, and towhat actions we can take towards asustainable future. To whom do theycontribute? To each of us, no matterwhere we live (1995: 127).

The most analytical examination camefrom Watts:

Any human activity in Antarcticawill have some environmentalimpact, and the only form of


complete protection for the Antarcticenvironment would be one whichexcluded human activity therealtogether (and even then, theenvironment would remainsusceptible to influences fromoutside Antarctica). The questions tobe faced in practice are whether thevalue of the activity to be undertakenoutweighs the environmental impactwhich will inevitably accompany it,and whether those impacts can beminimized without undermining thevalue of the activity giving rise to it.In short, a balance has to be struck(1992: 253).

The Dilemma ofHuman DevelopmentWilderness areas are usually thought ofas having minimal incursion from humandevelopment and associated technologiesand structures. How can this generallyaccepted requirement for wilderness bemarried with the needs of survival of anyhuman being in the region? It may be dif-ficult for those who have not experiencedthe southern environment to realize thatsafety is fundamental to the discussion.Inadequate clothing or equipment, whichmight cause temporary discomfort in an-other wilderness area, may lead to seri-ous injury or death in the Antarctic. Thehostility of the environment cannot be ig-nored, which raises the question of ac-commodation. So far, most nonscientificvisitors come in the austral summer,with the greatest numbers as cruise-based tourists. Other recreational visi-tors, such as mountaineers, are able touse tents for relatively long periods.Fieldwork parties may also use such ac-commodation. But without the backupof more substantial station buildings, thevariety and quality of scientific studieswould be seriously affected.

As far as Antarctic transport is con-cerned, there has been no truly feasibleand environmentally acceptable alterna-tive to the internal combustion engine.Huskies, beloved by many were removedfrom the continent in 1994, and althoughsome visitors, such as the mountaineerMessner, have occasionally been able touse parachute sails to assist them whenskiing, the scope of scientific work, for

example, would be considerably limitedby the absence of airplanes and vehicles.Tourists visiting by ship carry their ac-commodation and their means of propul-sion with them, but while they may bespectators to the wilderness that is theland, they live and move through the wil-derness that is the sea. The adventurers,whether mountaineers or skiers, alsocome either by ship or airplane. They maynot depend on further transport if theirplans go well, but all responsible expedi-tions have to have emergency backupplans. The conclusion is simple. If anyform of human activity is to continue onthe continent, there will be buildings,ships, airplanes, and motorized vehicles.

Wilderness in AntarcticConservation PlanningFor conservation planning purposes, aworking approach to the concept of wil-derness in the Antarctic could considerthe following two propositions: (1) be-gin by the acceptance of the Antarctic,including its surrounding seas and is-lands, as a wilderness, and (2) declassifyfrom this area only those parts that donot conform to generally accepted defi-nitions of wilderness, such as scientificstations and transport corridors.

Scientific StationsThe methodology used by the Austra-lian National Wilderness Inventory

Tourists visiting by ship carry their accommodationand their means of propulsion with them, butwhile they may be spectators to the wildernessthat is the land, they live and move through thewilderness that is the sea.

Tourists aboard an inflatable craft look small compared with the scale of the Antarctic landscapesurrounding them. Photo courtesy of the Department of Conservation, New Zealand.


refuges, masts, and so forth, plus an “as-sessment of visibility” from the sur-rounding land and sea. As showndiagrammatically in Figure 1, an “Areaof human influence” could be repre-sented by the outer of two circles, al-though in practice the actual area wouldbe influenced by local topography. In thecase of Rothera, a British coastal station,

forward designation of “Antarctic wilder-ness” could be made in all areas wherethere is no indication of human presence.

Transport CorridorsWith present technology, there seems tobe no adequate alternative to the use ofmotorized transport in the Antarctic forscientific work and the support of rec-reation and tourism. Yet there is contin-ued pressure for enjoyment by “simple,quiet, non-polluting and non-intrusivemeans of travel”—the description of-fered by the International Union for theConservation of Nature (IUCN 1994:18). Given this preference, perhaps thefollowing proposal might be debated.Some have called for the establishmentof inviolate or pristine control areas forscientific comparison with localities thathave been disturbed by humans (LewisSmith 1994; Protocol 1991, Annex V,Article 3.2[a]). Taken to the logical con-clusion, motorized transport and over-flying would also be prohibited in theseareas, so as to avoid contamination.These locations, with a surroundingbuffer zone would lie within the greater“Antarctic wilderness.” Perhaps motor-free recreation could be permittedwithin the buffer zone.

ConclusionWilderness needs to be seen in a globalcontext, as part of a continuum of hu-man impact that begins with highly ur-ban areas and ends with remainingpristine regions. If this hierarchy of“paved to pristine” is recognized, theneach element should be valued for thepart it can play in the life and work ofpeople. In the case of the Antarctic, theremay be the temptation to assume that theareas of human influence are of little orno consequence. However, some of theproblems associated with cumulativeimpacts have already been identified (seep. 27 of Dalziell and De Poorter article inthis issue). The wise use of all areas tothe highest environmental standards isessential, even if they appear to be “onlyan odd hectare or two” in the middle of acontinent 14 million km2 in size. A pos-sible planning approach to assist in meet-ing these ends is suggested above, theimplications of which go beyond the1991 Madrid Protocol. IJW

(Lesslie, et al. 1993) offers some help inthis regard. In this system, four indica-tors are applied: remoteness from settle-ment, remoteness from access, apparentnaturalness, and biophysical natural-ness. The first two indicators dealingwith remoteness merge in the Antarctic,as roads and tracks on the continent arelimited to settlements (taken to include

Scientific stations, such as New Zealand’s Scott Base, are highly visible as human intrusions into theotherwise stark Antarctic landscape. Photo by Antarctica NZ.

Wilderness needs to be seen in a global context,as part of a continuum of human impact thatbegins with highly urban areas and ends withremaining pristine regions.

both existing and former stations) andtheir immediate surroundings. Anymodifications resulting from the thirdindicator, apparent naturalness, will alsobe predominantly linked to stations, al-though there may also be isolated areaselsewhere, which have been modified byhuman action. Thus, three of the fourindicators coalesce into a single indica-tor suggesting evidence of the presenceof people.

On the ground, this would corre-spond to the total station area, includ-ing all outlying structures, such as

the whole Rothera Point would be in-cluded, with a somewhat arbitrary outerline at the 5-kilometer radius, suggest-ing an “assessment of visibility.”

The final indicator in the Australiansystem is biophysical naturalness. Ecolo-gists may identify areas on the continent,over and above the defined “areas of hu-man influence,” which show degradationof “biophysical naturalness.” If such ar-eas are present, grading of their condi-tion could modify wilderness values,suggesting greater or lesser quality. How-ever, it seems more likely that a straight-


ROSAMUNDE CODLING is a landscape plannerresearching aspects of conservation associatedwith the 1991 Madrid Protocol. She can be

reached c/o Scott Polar Research Institute,Univesity of Cambridge, Lensfield Road,Cambridge, England, CB2 1 ER, United

Kingdom. Telephone: 44-1223-337-733;fax: 44-1223-336-549. She lives inNorwich, England.

REFERENCESCharcot, J. B. A. E. 1978. Voyage of the

“Pourquoi-pas?” London, Hurst. (Reprint ofthe 1911 translation under the title Voyageof the “Why Not?” in the Antarctic.)

IUCN/SCAR. 1986. Conservation in theAntarctic. Cambridge, England: SCAR.

Lesslie, R., D. Taylor, and M. Maslen. 1993.National wilderness inventory: handbook ofprinciples, procedures and usage. Canberra,Australia: Australian Heritage Commission.

Lewis Smith, R. I. 1994. Environmental-geographic basis for Protected AreaSystem. In Developing the AntarcticProtected Area System: Proceedings of the

SCAR/IUCN Workshop, R. I. Lewis Smith,D. W. H. Walton, P. R. Dingwall, eds.Conservation of Southern Polar Regions 1.Gland and Cambridge: IUCN, 27–36.

Mosley, G. 1986. Antarctica: Our Last GreatWilderness. Hawthorn, Victoria, AustralianConservation Foundation.

Reich, R. J. 1980. The development of Antarctictourism. Polar Record 20(126): 203–214.

Roots, F. 1995. Polar wilderness: what does itcontribute and to whom? In Arcticwilderness: The 5th World WildernessCongress, V. G. Martin and N. Tyler, eds.Golden, Colo.: North American Press.

SCAR. 1989. Objectives of conservation in theAntarctic Polar Record 25(153): 181–183. (Also in SCAR Bulletin 93, April1989).

————-. 1980. A visitor’s introduction to theAntarctic and its environment. Cambridge,England: SCAR.

Scott, R. F. 1929 [1905]. The Voyage of theDiscovery. London, England: John Murray.

Watts, A. 1992. International law and theAntarctic Treaty system: HerschLauterpaucht Memorial Lecture Series, vol.11. Cambridge, England: GrotiusPublications.


Dear Editor,In his letter to the IJW (vol. 2, no. 3), Reed Noss laments thedifficulty of enlisting wilderness recreationists in support ofhis vision of what should be done for biodiversity The diffi-culty is real. But it may be less because of the obduracy of theserecreationists and as much because his focus is misplaced.

A crusade for biodiversity ought to be focused on the landswhere biodiversity (i.e., richness of species and genetic varia-tion) is found, which is not high elevation wilderness in theAmerican West. Rather it should be focused on seminatural lowerelevation lands, with particular emphasis on the Southeast.

It is true that remnant populations of hard-pressed largemammals and predators inhabit these wilderness areas, buttheir viability depends on ranges that extend well beyond clas-sified wilderness. Their survival is keyed to appropriate man-agement regimes for their entire ranges, not to changing themanagement of wilderness areas. Nor is it likely that these pro-tected areas can be expanded to include their entire ranges.

Noss’s desire to appropriate federal wilderness areas intohis intellectual framework is like trying to draft ants into anarmy. They are the wrong conscripts. They have little to offer,and little is gained by turning their management on its head.

Wilderness areas are designed to be areas that are notmanipulated to produce any given vegetative look (viz: “handsoff” policy). His desire to manipulate them is misplaced. Ma-nipulating them will do little to advance the cause of biodiversity(both because the ranges are large and the biodiversity is largelyelsewhere).

Let’s work together to design a new formula and managevegetation to protect biodiversity where it is found and leavetraditional western wilderness alone.

Michael McCloskeyChairman, Sierra Club

WILDERNESS DIGEST

LETTERS TO THE EDITOR

Dear Editor,I would like to correct a few comments made in the June1997 issue of IJW regarding the Hells Canyon Rim Road bill(HR 799).

In the page 3 editorial you speak of building a road throughthe wilderness. Actually, no road building is contemplated. Theroad in question has been present for over 40 years and wasintended by Congress to be left out of the Hells Canyon Wil-derness when it was created in 1975. But through a mappingerror the wilderness boundary crosses over the Rim Road by afew feet in several spots. HR 799 would correct this error.

On page 39 of your June issue, there is mention of WesCooley who is no longer a member of Congress. The bill isbeing sponsored by Representative Bob Smith in the Houseand Gordon Smith in the Senate. The primitive one-lane RimRoad, which runs parallel to the Hells Canyon Wilderness, willprovide greater hiker access and better photographic opportu-nities but will not affect game migration in the wilderness it-self. The U.S. Forest Service will continue to manage the roadand, of course, can close it if there is any adverse impact onany game species.

Thank you,

George M. Burns, M.D.Co-chairman, Committee to Reopen Rim Road (CORRR)


A challenging feature of the High Arctic environment is thepersistence of fog. Whether crossing the tundra, climbing peaks,or negotiating the seas, clouds of fog can appear out of no-where. Travel becomes tedious and difficult, obscuring the goal.Reading Deep Ecology in the High Arctic reminds me of the fogdrifting in and out of the harsh, yet incredibly beautiful land-scape: There are some valuable insights and salient reflectionsin this publication, but as a collected work I wonder about itsintent and scope.

In all fairness, this is not a comprehensive book on thesubject, but a collection of papers from a small symposiumheld in Longyearbyen in the High Arctic archipelago of Svalbardin 1994. The event drew speakers from Norway as well as fromother continents and highly different environments, all pre-sumably with some interest in deep ecology. The volume cov-ers a wide and disparate range of contributions, including atreatise on deep ecology arguments by Norwegian philosopherArne Naess, perspectives on environmental philosophy, descrip-tions of traditional Sami terminology, discussions on how tochange human behavior, experiences with environmental pro-tection in polar regions, as well as the obligation of scholars toengage in controversial issues—all of which are relevant con-cerns in the Arctic as well as in ecophilosophical thinking.

As befits new and alternative ways of thinking, deep ecol-ogy is both contested and acclaimed. It is welcome and timelythat deep ecology also addresses its issues to the Arctic. Theattempt, however, is problematic both in terms of intellectualand pragmatic aspects. In other words, what is there to belearned about deep ecology here, and how does it apply to theHigh Arctic? Deep ecology is a young field of inquiry, and thecurrent literature offers little consensus on concepts, theory, orimplications. Having read a good deal of the existing literatureon deep ecology, I must admit that this publication did notadd much clarity to the conceptual aspects of the subject. Theauthors, who mostly draw on their experiences from settings

outside the Arctic, generally fail to make an argument withinthe context of deep ecology Throughout the reading I won-dered: What are some of the deep ecology implications of theirarguments, and what could it mean within the context of theArctic? Few, if any, of the authors attempt to answer this.

Perhaps I view this too narrowly. Yet, deep ecology is aphilosophy urging us to be more concerned about our futurethrough asking fundamental questions about our relationshipwith the land. In a very general and decontextualized way interms of the High Arctic, some of the authors attend to this.But deep ecology is also a kind of framework with some basicprinciples, it’s not just any type of broad environmental phi-losophy. The High Arctic represents a unique environment witha lot of peculiarities as regards resources, history, and its popu-lations. A discussion of deep ecological perspectives on thedynamics of the current management regimes, and the varioussettlement acts with indigenous peoples around the Circum-polar region, would have been very enlightening. So wouldsome reflections on the very real and imminent problems ofthe region, such as waste dumping in the oceans, military ac-tivities, mining, oil and gas exploration, increasing tourism,and the increasing dependency of local economies on interna-tional economies, as well as other sociocultural problems thatabound in these northern communities. In my mind these aresome of the issues that really need attention by people who areequipped to make good deep ecological arguments.

Despite the lack of grounding between the philosophy andthe unique context of the Arctic, there are some interestingreflections in several of the papers. You may not learn a wholelot about deep ecology or the Arctic, but the report is never-theless a contribution to the debate on how to sustain the mar-ginal environments of the globe.

*Reviewed by Bjorn P. Kaltenborn, senior research scien-tist, Eastern Norway Research Institute.

WILDERNESS DIGEST

BOOK REVIEWSJAMES R. FAZIO, BOOK REVIEW EDITOR

Deep Ecology in the High Arctic. International Ecophilosophical Symposium, Svalbard, August 29–September 2, 1994. Available from Norwegian Polar Institute, P.O. Box 505, N-9170,Longyearbyen, Norway.*


Childhood experiences often lead to aproductive lifetime career. This was truefor Miron (Bud) Heinselman who as a boyexperienced the wonder of the Bound-ary Waters and after an outstanding sci-entific career returned to serve as anadvocate for preservation of this wilder-ness. This book is his effort to providethe reader with a sense of the “fascinat-ing diversity complexity, and beauty ofthe natural systems of the Boundary Wa-ters ... .” and to bring together a com-plete and accurate picture of the area forpotential educational, scientific, manage-ment, and cultural use. Well designed andillustrated, this is no “coffee-table” vol-ume, but is instead a substantial schol-arly book that in its 16 chapters considersevery aspect of the Boundary Water Wil-derness (BWW), its physical environ-ment, history, biota, fire ecology, anddynamics. The BWW is the primary fo-cus, but Heinselman often calls attentionto conditions in the two neighboring wil-derness areas, the Canadian Quetico andVoyageurs National Park.

The book’s chapters are arranged inlogical order. A brief introduction is fol-lowed by consideration of climate andclimatic extremes, such as drought andthe relationship of drought to fire years.A third chapter outlines the geologic his-tory and physiography, the extent andgradual departure of the Ice Age, and theorigins of soils, lakes, and wetlands. Thefourth chapter discusses the BWW plantcommunities, both trees and understoryvegetation, and considers these commu-nities in the context of disturbance in thenorthern forest. A fifth chapter relates thechanges in the postglacial forests as spe-cies gradually returned from their glacialrefuges and colonized the exposed land.Climatic shifts during postglacial time arenoted, and the author also gives us aglimpse of early human inhabitants thatreached our continent across the BeringStrait. The impact of the fur trade onNative Americans and on the BoundaryWaters biota completes the early history.

The intriguing and complex story ofwildfire is illustrated in chapter six whereHeinselman describes his methods for

and ages that resulted from natural firesbefore 1910, pointing out that the mo-saic resulting from these earlier fires de-pended on many factors, such as patchshape and size, conditions at the time ofburn, stand age, and fire intensity. Theage-class mosaic may shift, and the fireregime may change with fluctuations inclimate and may also change with con-tinued effective fire control.

After establishing the critical impor-tance of natural fire, Heinselman devotesa chapter to his recommendations for firemanagement programs essential to restorethe forest mosaic that has developed since1910 under fire control, a period that hasseen a great increase in aging stands. TheSuperior National Forest has been effec-tive in fire control but often at high cost.Heinselman states that the present policymay eventually result in much larger firesand notes the potential consequences ofinaction. The mammals, birds, and humanvisitors likewise are important compo-nents of the BWW ecosystem and are in-fluenced by and also influence thefunctioning of the system. In the chapteron mammals, major species and their com-plex interactions (e.g., the moose, deer,caribou, beaver, and wolf grouping), areexamined based on studies by early andmodern researchers and on the authorspersonal observations. Every mammalknown in the region, from black bear toleast shrew, receives attention.

Similarly the birds of the BWW (andthe Quetico) are listed, from the year-round residents (18 species), the wintervisitors that breed elsewhere (10 species),and the migrants en route to other breed-ing locations (50 species), to the warm-season residents that come to breed (110species). Much of the information onbirds Heinselman attributes to othersources. However, his own observationsare included, especially on the influenceof fire, insect infestation, blowdown, andother disturbances that result in changesin habitat, behavior, and bird numbers.

Lakes and streams are integral partsof the BWW, the Quetico, and Voyageurs.Lake shape, water quality, and other char-acteristics are determined largely by the

establishing fire histories in the virginforests. Heinselmans description of theprocess illustrates his careful attention todetail and his determination to under-stand, in scientific terms, the relationshipof fire to the mosaic pattern in the for-ests. The work resulted in maps of fireextent, estimates of fire intensity, recog-nition of natural fire regimes, and solidconclusions regarding the role of fire inforest development. The next chapterdescribes ecosystem properties, for ex-ample, nutrient cycling, biomass storage,reproductive strategies, and forest struc-ture, as these properties influence or areinfluenced by fire.

The two major logging periods, BigPine Logging (1895–1930) and the Pulp-wood Era (1935–1978) are discussed inseparate chapters. The logging companiesinvolved, the areas in which they logged,and the fires associated with that loggingare documented as are the relationshipsbetween fire and reproduction. Loggingin the Big Pine period often led to devel-opment of modern red and white pinestands. Logs were moved by horse towater and floated to nearby mills. In someinstances short rail hauls were included.Slash fires were common and many ar-eas lost seed trees and shifted to aspenand birch. Heinselman stated that,“Within the logged regions in these earlypine operations, fully half of the total landsurface may be occupied by vegetationthat was not changed substantially by thelogging.”

During the Pulpwood Era, use ofmotorized equipment grew rapidly. Ma-jor sales and logging operations are docu-mented as are their impact on the BWW.In 1945 a large area was sold, beginningdevelopment of a major road networkwith greater use of motor driven equip-ment and trucks for hauling. This andlater large sales led to major changes inforest composition. Here Heinselmanoutlines events leading to the Burton-Vento Bill and the amendment to TheWilderness Act (TWA), that finally pro-hibited logging in wilderness areas. Heemphasizes the importance of the mosaicof patches of stands of different species

The Boundary Waters Wilderness Ecosystem by Miron Heinselman. 1966. University of MinnesotaPress, Minneapolis, Minnesota. 334 pp., $24.95 (hardcover).*


nature of the bedrock and the surround-ing vegetation. The lakes are affected byfire in various ways. Much of this chap-ter discusses fish in relation to lake types.Building on research in the Quetico, fourspecies are emphasized: northern pike,walleye, lake trout, and small mouth bass.These are major predators that impact theentire aquatic system and are also a ma-jor attraction for visitors. (Tables are in-cluded that indicate lake characteristicsand lakes favorable for certain fish spe-cies.) This chapter also includes a clearfactual discussion of acid rain and mer-cury deposition and the potential eachhas to alter the aquatic system. Charac-teristically, Heinselman approaches bothproblems with solid facts rather thanscare tactics and so provides reasonedconclusions that support is needed forcorrective action.

Visitors may also produce change inthe ecosystem. Heinselman begins withquotes from TWA of 1964 and theBoundary Waters Canoe Area WildernessAct of 1995 to establish the purposes forwhich the BWW was established. Hedemonstrates growth in use for both the

BWW and the Quetico and documentschanges in regulations relative to motors,length of stay, and size of party. A visitordistribution system is now operating inboth the Quetico and the BWW and re-search on campsite selection and main-tenance has helped to reduce siteexpansion, erosion, and other problems,including water quality. The problem oftoo many people remains. Managers ofparks and similar public properties otherthan wilderness will likely find some use-ful techniques.

In his last chapter, “Tomorrows Wil-derness,” Heinselman speculates on thefate of the BWW and the entire northernforest in the event of global climate change.He outlines the impacts on vegetation,birds, mammals, streams, lakes, and fish.He is convinced that global warming hasbegun and that major effects will be feltsoon unless drastic measures are takenworldwide. He suggests that planning startnow to avoid the possible loss of majorforest communities and to avoid ignitionof catastrophic fires. To reduce thesethreats he advocates increased use of fireto reduce excessive fuel accumulation and

to regenerate the large areas of aging standsof jack pine and spruce, and fir, aspen,and birch forests. Despite changes that hebelieves are almost inevitable, Heinselmanremains optimistic that if his suggestionsare implemented many characteristics ofthe wilderness can be maintained and thatits scientific, educational, and inspirationalvalues may be preserved. In a short epi-logue the author states his personal feel-ings and his path toward understandingthe nature and meaning of wilderness.Perhaps one day the essence of that knowl-edge will be shared by every thinking per-son. This is a unique book that delivers amix of sound science, solid practical ad-vice, and inspiration. Its pages beckon toall whether they be fishing enthusiasts,hunters, historians, teachers, students,philosophers, politicians, woodworkers,or urbanites. This book should be a life-long companion for everyone who feelsthe pull of wilderness and the challengeof the northern forest. IJW

*Reviewed by Forest Stearns, professoremeritus, University of Wisconsin,Milwaukee, USA.

Due to a problem in the production process after the completion of editing, several errors and omissionsoccurred in the Book Review section of the March 1997 issue of IJW Specifically:

1. The reviewer of Wilderness Therapy: Foundations, Theory, and Research was omitted. She is Rocklynn Culp,graduate student in the University of Idaho’s Department of Resource Recreation and Tourism.

2. In the review of Thelon—A River Sanctuary reviewed by James R. Fazio, most paragraph indentations wereomitted, resulting in run-on type.

3. In the review of Northern Wilderness Areas: Ecology, Sustainability, Values reviewed by Bjorn Kaltenborn,the editor of the book’s name was misspelled. It is Anna-Liisa Sippola.

We regret these errors and have taken steps to prevent their reoccurrence.

—Alan Ewert, Acting Managing Editor


Artists, Scientists, and ConservationistsCooperate to Save the StoltmannWhen in 1993, the British Columbia (B.C.) government decidedto protect only one-third of Clayoquot Sound on the wild westcoast of Vancouver Island, it spurred massive global protest, in-cluding the largest act of civil disobedience (logging road block-ades leading to the arrests of over 900 citizens) in Canadianhistory. Unless Glenn Clark’s 1996 decision to protect only 20%of Canada’s Stoltmann Wilderness is countered by a similar publicoutcry, this precious B.C. rainforest will be lost.

Already thousands of people have signed a Western CanadaWilderness Committee (WCWC) petition demanding the protec-tion of the entire 260,000-hectare Stoltmann Wilderness. Severalhundred WCWC volunteers have carved a 30 km. hiking routedeep into the rainforest of the Elaho, the largest of the Stoltmannvalleys. Suspension foot-bridges now span rushing canyon creeks,giving the forest path the feel of an exotic Amazon rainforest.

With the help of donations from Stoltmann Wildernesssupporters, WCWC will build canopy research platforms in agrove of towering Douglas fir trees, similar to those it built in1991 in the Sitka spruce trees in the Carmanah Valley. Theywill allow scientists to explore the tree-top world and find new“old-growth dependent” species. In Carmanah, the uppercanopy research led to the discovery of hundreds of insect spe-cies never before known to science.

WCWC aims to show the world that the Stoltmann Wil-derness is a global natural treasure and to convince the B.C.government that it must be preserved.

For more information contact WCWC, 20 Water Street,Vancouver, B.C. V6B 1A4, Canada. Telephone: (604) 683-8220;e-mail: [email protected]; web page: http://www.web.apc.org/wcwild/welcome.html. (Excerpted from WCWCEducational Report, vol. 16, no. 1.)

“Wilderness LoversSay the Darndest Things”These are actual comments left last year on U.S. Forest Serviceregistration sheets and comment cards by backpackerscompleting wilderness camping trips:

“A small deer came into my camp and stole my bag ofpickles. Is there a way I can get reimbursed? Please call.”

“Escalators would help on steep uphill sections.”

“Instead of a permit system or regulations, the ForestService needs to reduce worldwide population growthto limit the number of visitors to wilderness.”

“Trails need to be wider so people can walk whileholding hands.”

“Ban walking sticks in wilderness. Hikers that usewalking sticks are more likely to chase animals.”

“All the mile markers are missing this year.”

“Found a smoldering cigarette left by a horse.”

“Trails need to be reconstructed. Please avoid buildingtrails that go uphill.”

“Too many bugs and leeches and spiders and spiderwebs. Please spray the wilderness to rid the area ofthese pests.”

“Please pave the trails so they can be plowed of snowin the winter.”

WILDERNESS DIGEST

ANNOUNCEMENTS ANDWILDERNESS CALENDAR

• Artists, Scientists, and Conservationists Cooperate toSave the Stoltmann

• “Wilderness Lovers Say the Darndest Things”

• Publications and Proceedings Available

• Upcoming Conferences

• South African Digest


“Chairlifts need to be put insome places so that we can getto wonderful views withouthaving to hike to them.”

“The coyotes made too muchnoise last night and kept meawake. Please eradicate theseannoying animals.”

“Reflectors need to be placed ontrees every 50 feet so people canhike at night with flashlights.”

“A McDonalds would be nice atthe trailhead.”

“The places where trails do notexist are not well marked.”

“Too many rocks in themountains.”

“Need more signs to keep areapristine.”

Publications andProceedings AvailableManaging Americas Enduring WildernessResource, the book published in conjunc-tion with the 1989 international confer-ence of the same name. The conferenceand book commemorate the 25th anni-versary of the 1964 Wilderness Act andthe establishment of the National Wilder-ness Preservation System. Containing 118papers, the collection remains an excel-lent source of information for anyone in-terested in America’s wildlands and parks($15.00).

Fourth International Outdoor Rec-reation and Tourism Trends Symposiumand 1995 National Association of Recre-ation Resource Planners Conference. In1995 the Fourth Outdoor Recreation andTourism Trends Symposium and NationalRecreation Resource Planning Conferencewas held in Minneapolis-St. Paul, Min-nesota, USA. More than 400 individualsfrom 48 states, 5 Canadian provinces, and10 other countries participated in theevent. The proceedings include 119 pa-pers and 650 pages, in 12 subject areas.The cost of this publication is $70.00.

Recreation Fees in the National ParkService: Issues, Policies and Guidelines for

Future Action. This publication is basedon a workshop held in August 1996. Sev-enteen papers discuss the backgroundand overview of the workshop, recreationfee issues in the larger context, fee poli-cies and programs of federal and stateagencies, and guidelines for policy, man-agement, and research. It is a valuable re-source for anyone interested in, orresponsible for, pubic recreation facilitiesand services ($9.00).

Congestion and Crowding in the NationalPark System: Guidelines for Management andResearch. This publication contains currentideas and principles about congestion andcrowding in parks and related settings. Sixpapers highlight discussions of informationgaps, trends, carrying capacity, direct andindirect management techniques, and ex-pert systems concerning congestion andcrowding ($9.00).

All four publications are available bycontacting David W Lime, University ofMinnesota, Cooperative Park StudiesUnit, Department of Forest Resources,115 Green Hall, 1530 North ClevelandAvenue, St. Paul, MN 55108, USA. Tele-phone: (612) 624-2250; e-mail:[email protected]. Make checkspayable to University of Minnesota.

Upcoming ConferencesWilderness Science in a Time of Change:May 23-27, 1999, in Missoula, Montana,USA. Since the first National WildernessResearch Conference in 1985, interest inwilderness has increased, internationaland societal definitions of wildernesshave evolved, and wilderness science hasimproved. This conference will presentresearch results and synthesize knowl-edge and its management implications.The conference should result in a state-of-the-art understanding of wildernessrelated research. It will also improve ourunderstanding of how research can con-tribute to the protection of wilderness inthe 21st century Considerable attentionwill be devoted to the ever-changing roleof wilderness in society and the need tobetter integrate diverse social and bio-physical sciences.

For more information, contact Natu-ral Resource Management Division, Cen-ter for Continuing Education, Universityof Montana, Missoula, MT 59812, USA.Telephone: (406) 243-4623 or (888)

254-2544 (toll-free); e-mail: [email protected].

South African Digest

National Wilderness SummitInitiates Action PlanForty conservation professionals from awide range of regional, national, and non-governmental organizations met May 8–10, 1997, and created a new nationalinitiative to consolidate and strengthenthe wilderness movement in South Af-rica. This national wilderness colloquiumwas held at the Geelhoutbos Field Sta-tion in the Bavianskloof Wilderness Areain the Eastern Cape to conceive ways tostrengthen the role of wilderness in thehealth, security, and economic well-be-ing of all South Africans. The major ele-ments of the new National Initiative are:

• A comprehensive national inventoryof wilderness and wild areas.

• Creation of a National Wilderness Coun-cil, representative of multicultural andregional interests, to resolve issues andrepresent wilderness to the public.

• Preparation of a Strategic Plan to en-hance and strengthen the role of wil-derness in the future health, security,and well-being of all South Africans.

• Formulation and promotion of newnational legislation for the identifica-tion and protection of additional wil-derness in South Africa.

The colloquium was sponsored by theInternational Wilderness Leadership(WILD) Foundation (United States), TheWilderness Foundation, Wildlands Trust,Thaba-Manzi Estates, the Department ofEconomic Affairs, Environment and Tour-ism (Eastern Cape), and the U.S. EmbassyThe meeting was facilitated by three wil-derness leaders from the United States:Dr. John Hendee, professor and director,University of Idaho Wilderness ResearchCenter; Vance Martin, president, theWILD Foundation and InternationalCenter for Earth Concerns; and MarilynRiley director, Wilderness Transitions Inc.

For further information contactAndrew Muir, executive director, Wilder-ness Leadership School. Telephone: 03142-8642; e-mail: [email protected].


Wilderness Leadership SchoolConvenes Symposium on Ritesof Passage for Youth at RiskMay 1, 1997—The Wilderness Leader-ship School convened a symposium attheir headquarters in Durban on the im-portance of “rites of passage for at riskyouth” as an approach to helping com-bat youth crime and gang violence inSouth Africa. This historic relevance ofyouth rites of passage in wilderness andnature was one area of emphasis. Thesymposium was attended by 20 invitedpersons representing universities, govern-ment departments of justice, privatefoundations, wilderness guides, and non-government organizations such as theWilderness Leadership School and Out-ward Bound.

The symposium focused on a bookby Don Pinnock, Gangs, Rituals and Ritesof Passage, documenting the serious youthcrime and gang violence problems inSouth Africa and unhealthy rites of pas-sage evolving among some youth. A key-note of ideas was provided by CredoMutwa, noted South African scholar, phi-losopher, and prophet. Other speakerswere Dr. Ian Player of the WildernessFoundation; and from the United States,John Hendee, professor and director ofthe University of Idaho Wilderness Re-search Center and Marilyn Riley directorof Wilderness Transitions Inc.; AndrewMuir, executive director of the Wilder-ness Leadership School, will convene afollow-up meeting with a limited groupto develop an action proposal.

Peace Porks UnderwayA bold regional initiative is underwayin Southern Africa, spearheaded by thePeace Parks Foundation, headquarterednear Capetown. “Peace Parks” aretransfrontier conservation areas, whichbind together two or more countries ina partnership of regional cooperation,economic opportunity, and biodiversityconservation. Nature does not abide bypolitical boundaries, and therefore thePeace Parks initiative is an importantecosystem-based approach to interna-tional nature conservation and wildlandprotection.

The idea of Peace Parks is not new.The pioneering effort in this concept was

in 1932, when official cooperation wasestablished between Glacier andWaterton National Parks (United Statesand Canada). However, this new initia-tive in Southern Africa is the first suchproactive initiative with a nongovernmentorganization completely dedicated to themission, and with a professional staff fo-cused on the objectives. Dr. John Hanks,formerly of WWF (International) andWWF (South Africa) is the executive di-rector. The regional importance of thisinitiative is underscored by the fact thatpresidents Mandela (South Africa),Nujoma (Namibia), and Muluzi (Malawi),and King Letsiell (Lesotho) are the Hon-orary Patrons.

The Peace Parks Foundation sup-ports and initiates projects that specifi-cally promote Peace Parks. Forexample, further to a request from theMozambican government, the Founda-tion injected emergency funding intothe Maputo Elephant Reserve in South-ern Mozambique. These funds providedbasic salaries and infrastructural re-quirements of the reserve, pending itsincorporation into the much largerMaputoland Peace Park. This PeacePark will link the Tembe Elephant Re-serve in South Africa with the MaputoElephant Reserve, re-establishing an an-cient elephant migration route.

As with all effective nature conser-vation initiatives, the success of PeaceParks depends on facilitation with manysectors: local authorities, communities,landowners, development banks, privateinvestors, tourism officials, conservationprofessionals, and others. Implementa-tion of the complex arrangements forPeace Parks is enhanced if the message iscommunicated to everyone who has astake in the environmental and economicfuture of southern Africa.

The Peace Parks concept has signifi-cant implications for wildlands. One ofits most important objectives is the con-servation en situ of biological diversity.In most cases, this requires wild natureto freely evolve and adapt, and therebymaintain a strong genetic base to sup-port life on earth. In addition, these largeareas will provide enduring sanctuary forwildlife and humans in a rapidly devel-oping Southern Africa.

For more information about thePeace Parks Foundation, and to urgethem to designate wilderness areas andintegrate wilderness management plansinto the Peace Parks, contact them at 29Magnolia Street, P.O. Box 227, SomersetWest, 7129 Republic of South Africa;fax: (27-21) 855-3958; e-mail:[email protected].


Umfolosi WildernessUnder ThreatWilderness conservationists in South Af-rica and around the world have ex-pressed shock and dismay at a proposalby the Natal Parks Board to build a tour-ist camp with 100-140 beds in themiddle of the Umfolosi Game Reserve,Kwazulu, Natal. The proposed TshevuCamp would be located directly adja-cent to the core wilderness zone in thereserve and violate the integrity of oneof the best known wildlife and wilder-ness areas in South Africa.

This is no “ordinary” wilderness area.The Umfolosi wilderness is an interna-tional icon in the evolution of the wil-derness concept. It was the first such areaproclaimed in South Africa (1958) andhas been the site of numerous conserva-tion milestones. This is the area in whichIan Player and his team pioneered cap-ture and translocation techniques that arenow widely recognized for saving theWhite Rhino, established the South Afri-can Wilderness Leadership School,launched the idea of officially protectedwilderness for South Africa, and con-ceived the World Wilderness Congress.

Currently the Environmental ImpactAssessment is underway which will de-termine if Tshevu or an alternative loca-tion is more desirable. Because of thedepth of concern expressed about thisproposal, a public information meetingwas scheduled at Natal Parks Board head-quarters on September 22.

The Tshevu proposal raises manyconcerns. Chief among them is that itcontradicts the principle of peripheral de-velopment. For the sake of providing thecamp visitor with a completely “natural”setting, it lowers the wildland and natu-ral values of the entire area within thereserve. The increased lights, traffic,noise, and other elements associated withsuch a large camp impact a major por-tion of the Umfolosi, especially the corewilderness area that is immediately adja-cent to Tshevu.

Wilderness managers and support-ers in all countries can easily imagine asimilar scenario within their own area of

work. As population pressures increaseon the boundaries of parks and reserves,pressures will amount to abandon ormodify the principle of peripheral devel-opment. The EIA process has begun onthe Tshevu concept, and it must be full,free and unfettered.

You are encouraged to contact theNatal Parks Board directly voice your con-cern that the integrity of the wildernessarea and its values be considered sacro-sanct, and encourage them to use alterna-tive sites on the periphery of the reserve.The Chief Executive, Natal Parks Board,P.O. Box 667, Pietermaritzburg, 3200,South Africa; fax: (27) 331-471-037.

The moon over the Black Umfolozi River in the Umfolozi Game Reserve, Kwazulu, Natal, SouthAfrica. Photo by Vance Martin.


Nick SteeleThe wilderness and nature conservationmovement in South Africa lost a pioneer andleader, Nick Steele, who died in May. Nickwas only 63 when he succumbed to cancer,and is survived by his wife Nola and two sons. Well known for his love of horses, espe-cially their early role in game capture and trans-location, Nick Steele was a pioneeringconservationist. He was a founding memberof the Operation Rhino team, which saved thewhite rhino from extinction, and first directorof what became the Kwazulu Department ofNature Conservation. He was one of the origi-

nators of the community conservation concept, through whichlocal rural people could benefit from adjacent wildland reserves.

Always a force for the “new” South Africa, it was NickSteele’s initiative in the mid-1980s that helped the first blackSouth African candidates graduate from technical colleges witha National Diploma in Nature Conservation, and that also se-cured better working and career conditions for black game rang-ers in the conservation services.

Nick also wrote four accounts of his conservation career,the best known of which was Game Ranger on Horseback.Through it all—the brutal politics of apartheid South Africa,the rough and tumble of Zululand nature conservation, andthe uncertainties of fighting to save wild Africa—Nick was evera gentleman and always a champion of wild places. Go well.

Wally O’GradyThe majestic Cape York Peninsula in Northern Queensland,Australia, will remain beautiful and wild for a lot longer becauseof the efforts of this very unusual, unassuming, unaffected—yetvery effective—man. In the early 1970s, he and a small ban offollowers stopped in its tracks the relentless devastation of thewood-chipping industry that was expanding into the magnifi-cent Cape York rainforest. He and Percy Tresize explored, cam-paigned for, and eventually saw the designation of the Quikan

WILDERNESS DIGEST

REMEMBERING OUR FRIENDSAND HEROES

BY VANCE G. MARTIN, EXECUTIVE EDITOR (INTERNATIONAL)

For the second time in as many issues of the International Journal of Wilderness, I bring you news of pioneers in theinternational wilderness movement who have left our midst. Nick Steele (South Africa) and Wally O’Grady (Australia)were giants among us. Like emergent trees in the rainforest canopy, they were guardians over the rest of the forest.They both fought hard battles over long years to protect and sustain the green glory, the savannah stillness, and thewild song. While we are saddened by the loss of their leadership, friendship, and presence around the campfire, intheir passing they continue to teach and challenge us. Their message is clear. Do not allow the gap in the canopy toremain unfilled. Be leaders, train other leaders, and, when appropriate, follow leaders. Continue the important yetcommonsense work of assuring that wild nature has a place to live and prosper on this earth.

Reserve, which protected hundreds of square kilometers of ab-original rock art. Wally, along with Verne McLaren and few oth-ers, lobbied for and eventually brought to Australia the 2nd WorldWilderness Congress, of which he was named chairman.

Wally was a sugar cane farmer. In fact, he was Queensland’syoungest ever cane farmer when he took over the family farmupon the death of his father in 1926. He was just 16 and, as hetold it: “1 went into the bush and stood on a hill and said to myselfthat I would have to make a decision about how to care for thisland. Not only does it belong to me, but it also belongs to all otherAustralians. And to the birds and the creatures as well.”

He was a cane farmer with a difference. In a radical and pre-viously unheard of plan, he dedicated part of each of his canefarms to wild nature, “so all the creatures would have a home aswell.” A life-long bachelor, he dedicated all of his personal fundsto nature conservation. I’ll never forget in 1982 when Kate and Iarrived at Wally’s to stay for a week, with two toddlers in tow, tofind an old farmhouse with hardly any furniture or amenities andjust a few bits of aboriginal art on the walls. Wally’s quiet com-ment later was that he just never got around to buying furniture—too much work to do on the farm and for the wilderness.

Wally was a quiet and gentle person, with a profound,even telepathic, connection to animals. In many ways, he wasas much like a child as a grown man. He was also focused,hardworking, steadfastly committed to wild nature, and anadvocate for human cooperation. He was always saddened bythe fight—he felt that harmony was our true destiny—but henever hesitated to speak, act, and persevere. Thank you, Wally.

Nick Steele (1934–1997)

Wally O’Grady (1910–1997)

international journal of wilderness, vol 03 no 3, september 1997

Documents

university of vermont

university of minnesota

colorado state university

wilderness society

n t e r n

paul r

usda forest service

t i o n