Access to nature - but for whom?

Large-scale conservation relies on a nature-connected population, which is achieved not by perpetuating exclusion but a radical equity of access to nature.

Andrew Wang | Opinion | All views expressed are my own

Walking along a nature reserve woodland trail on the edge of a local common, a heath atop a chalk escarpment, I notice a printed sign bearing the text, ‘Please stay on the path to avoid trampling the fragile wildflower populations’. There are no barbed-wire fences - exclusion is rarely physical - but I obliged, walking away none the wiser about the wild pasqueflowers and chalkhill blue butterflies I was supposedly protecting, a wasted chance to connect with my local ecology and be inspired to support and fund the wildlife trust’s conservation work.

Ironically, when we think of anthropogenic ecological destruction on this important chalk grassland, we should instead turn our attention to the majority of the remainder of the common - occupied by Royston Golf Course - where habitats have been wasted and public access has been barred for the hedonism of the few.

Conservation requires connection

A recent article by Lloyd et al. in The Ecologist promotes an “improved understanding of the rights of non-human animals” by keeping us away from them. However, this is a parochial argument that falls to the classic fallacy of privilege - we already care about nature, so we shall dictate who gets to benefit from it - never mind those who have never, to no fault of their own, had a chance to even experience it. “Wildlife […] needs us to make these calls and set aside areas purely for wild nature” - but why should “us” be only those who have already witnessed the joys of being in nature and hold societal and institutional power to make these decisions? From their argument a green supremacy emerges: a rotten green saviourism that pervades conservation’s relation with us.

While all readers will agree that accessing nature benefits our health and wellbeing and engenders our connection with it, the underlying principle is that conservation requires nature connection for all. It is what inspires us to donate to the RSPB, to respond to the climate crises, to take outrage at sewage dumping in our rivers, to not let our dogs chase ground-nesting birds, to “leave a positive trace”.

This dependence is reinforced when exclusionists mention overcrowded nature hotspots. One recent summer, I was running along the natural skyline above Dovedale national nature reserve, watching the stream of visitors, more diverse than I’d ever seen it, process along the linear trail that winds its way through the ravine. Litter, noise and traffic complaints fill local news throughout the season. You are in nature. Stick to the path. It’s the only one we’ve got. Follow our unspoken manners. You must not do this, nor that. Go back home, to your dirty city. Especially if you’re Muslim. As I watched the single file ushered across the limestone-reinforced stepping stones, I saw that if nature must always be accessed through control and institution, these folk will never feel empowered to choose to respect nature out of a belonging and identity in it - let alone to “savour the squelch”.

Connection requires access to nature

It is no wonder that fell runners, who follow groughs and trods rather than legally-enshrined paths, are unintentional witness-conservationists whose respect fuels their campaign against peat bog destruction. But perhaps unsurprisingly, fell running is one of the most undiverse outdoors sports. Why would the ethnic minority child give heed to the destruction of our peat bogs when they are half as likely to have a right of way on their doorstep to experience nature, let alone to venture off the path? Why would they volunteer for conservation work when there is no-one who looks like them to inspire them?

Inequity of access

Widespread nature connection can only happen when we shift from the regressive privileged attitude of gatekeeping nature to that of empowering those who need it most, through an equitable access to nature. It requires the empathy to listen to diverse, marginalised and grassroots voices, those who don’t have the same privileges, whether that’s income, land, ethnicity, gender, disability. The authors’ insensitivity to these inequities is laid bare: “We all recall how under the lockdown, wild species became objects of fascination in our daily lives” - in fact, lockdown exacerbated and laid bare our inequities of access to nature. Perhaps the authors’ “all” only included those with back gardens, rights of way on their doorsteps, or simply the energy to care.

The multifaceted-ness of access

Access can be physical. We need a right to roam in England and Wales, as Jon Moses writes. We need a democratised path network that prioritises how we use them. We need a resilient National Trails network which prioritises accessibility to our best landscapes. But it’s also much more than physical. Yes, racism still exists, and we need diversity and representation to create welcoming communities, and to fund and uplift those grassroots projects that are doing the work for us. We need to consult and hire lived experience: institutional racism and decision-making boards with a lack of diversity too often fail to truly support meaningful access projects.

Systemic issues

Invoking hierarchy and gatekeeping to protect nature ultimately appeals to those (who exist in decision-making roles) that prefer to welcome only the ‘good’ sort of nature-seekers - white, well-spoken and middle-class - such that we preserve our ‘pristine’ English countryside from the incursion of the urban, overcrowding, littering masses. We cannot continue this xenophobic conservation model that synonymises “native” with “good” and “wild” with “white” - it is simply too dangerous, especially in an era of fascist hate on our streets.

Worldwide, looking at where, to varying degrees, marginalised people are excluded from nature under the name of conservation, we can’t help but draw links: from British green nationalism, to Muirist white supremacy, and to Zionist settler-colonialism in Palestine.

Any conservationist who limits, jeopardises, gatekeeps or commodifies access to nature actively perpetuates nature disconnection, ultimately undermining the long-term success of their work.

Now, time for a walk in my little right-wing-but-not-dangerously-so corner of the Scottish borderlands. But should I get accosted with a potential racial motive again, this time, I’m armed with intimate knowledge of the Land Reform Act. I know my rights to access nature.

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Andrew Wang is an activist for better access to nature and the outdoors for everyone. Get in touch.