How humans quietly shape the “wild” landscapes we love

When you stand in a forest, do you ever wonder how much of it is genuinely wild and how much reflects centuries of human influence?

After years of studying conservation biology and diving into the founding of protected areas and the preservation of flora and fauna, I started to ask myself the question:

What illusion do we try to preserve?  What is wild? Are we conserving a human-made environment? 

Photo by Sebastian Unrau on Unsplash

By reading this article, you will begin to uncover the hidden stories of the landscapes we often cherish as ‘wild.’ These stories reveal that what we see as untouched and pristine is, in reality, the result of centuries of human influence, stewardship, and intervention. Far from being isolated from humanity, these environments have been shaped, cultivated, and managed by people who understood their rhythms and needs in ways modern conservation often overlooks.

This deeper understanding will challenge you to rethink conservation—not as a quest to freeze nature in an imagined, untouched state but as an opportunity to honor the histories and legacies of those who have shaped these environments. It’s an invitation to move beyond romanticized ideals and embrace a more nuanced view, one that values the complexity of these landscapes and the people who have been integral to their evolution.

The illusion of pristine Wilderness

When we speak of “wild” landscapes, what we often imagine is an idealized vision: untouched forests, pristine mountaintops, and unspoiled valleys free from human influence. This vision is not just a misrepresentation of history but also a deeply ingrained illusion we strive to preserve. It reflects a longing for a version of nature that feels separate from the human world—a refuge from modernity and a symbol of something pure, eternal, and sacred.

So, what illusion are we preserving? It is the illusion of nature as a pristine sanctuary, frozen in time and disconnected from human history. This vision comforts us, offering a sense of purity in a world dominated by human influence. Yet, it is also a vision that marginalizes the role humans have historically played in shaping landscapes and the ongoing struggles over identity, land use, and resource management within these spaces.

Are we protecting untouched wilderness? 

When we speak of conservation, the goal often seems straightforward: to protect nature from human influence and preserve its “natural” state. But a closer look at the landscapes we aim to conserve, raises a profound question: Are we truly protecting untouched wilderness, or are we conserving environments that are, in fact, deeply shaped by human activity?

Many iconic natural spaces, from Yellowstone to the Serengeti, are celebrated as pristine wilderness, free from human impact. Yet these areas have long histories of human habitation and stewardship. Indigenous communities lived, hunted, and managed these landscapes for generations, shaping ecosystems through practices like controlled burns, selective harvesting, and habitat management. Their actions helped maintain biodiversity and ecological balance, making these spaces what we now perceive as “wild.”

When Yellowstone National Park was created, Indigenous tribes who had lived there for generations were forcibly removed. The ‘wilderness’ we celebrate today was shaped not just by nature, but by human displacement. Many other so-called 'pristine' landscapes share a similar history—where human presence was not absent but erased.

The management practices employed in conservation today further highlight the human hand in these environments. Controlled burns to prevent catastrophic wildfires, culling of overabundant species, and efforts to control invasive species are all human interventions essential to maintaining the balance of these ecosystems. Without them, many so-called natural landscapes would degrade or transform in ways that contradict the image of wilderness we strive to protect.

Conservation reflects human values

This raises a challenging truth:

Conservation is not about preserving a state of nature untouched by humanity but about maintaining a particular vision of nature that aligns with human values.

Even efforts to rewild areas or restore ecosystems are guided by our ideas of what these landscapes should look like, often based on historical baselines that are themselves products of human influence.

Recognizing this reality does not diminish the value of conservation—it enhances it. By acknowledging that we are conserving human-shaped environments, we can approach conservation with greater humility and inclusivity. This means integrating the knowledge and practices of local and Indigenous communities, whose stewardship has been integral to the health of these landscapes. It also means moving away from the myth of pristine wilderness and embracing conservation as a dynamic process that balances ecological health with social justice.

In this way, the environments we aim to conserve are not just remnants of the past but collaborative spaces where nature and humanity intersect. By understanding conservation as a partnership rather than a separation, we can create strategies that honor both ecological integrity and the human histories intertwined with the landscapes we cherish.

So, the next time you step into a forest, pause for a moment. Instead of asking yourself, “Is this wild?” consider a deeper question: “Whose hands have shaped this landscape over time?” Look around and imagine the centuries of interaction between humans and nature—the careful tending of the land, the controlled fires that renewed growth, the footsteps of those who lived in harmony with these ecosystems long before the idea of wilderness was invented.

Reflect on the histories that have been erased or overlooked in the pursuit of preserving an illusion of untouched nature. Ask yourself, “How can we honor the people who have shaped these spaces—not by excluding them, but by recognizing their integral role in maintaining the balance we now seek to conserve?”

By shifting the way we think about nature, we can move beyond the romanticized idea of pristine wilderness. We can begin to see these landscapes not as untouched relics of the past but as living, evolving spaces intertwined with human histories. In doing so, we open the door to conservation strategies that respect the complexity of these connections, ensuring that both nature and the communities that depend on it thrive together.