"The replacement of Indians by predominantly European populations in New England [and the West] was as much an ecological as a cultural revolution, and the human side of that revolution cannot be fully understood until it is embedded in the ecological one."

William Cronon (1983)

The premise of this chapter is that the land, the biological processes, and the physical presence of all living and non-living things are reality; we humans are part of that reality. Where does the intellectual human stand in relation to this definition of reality? As we perceive the non-human through our numerous cultural filters, we create the ideas of nature, wilderness, and wildness; we re-create the animals, plants, sky, and water by naming them and placing real and imagined boundaries around them.

To understand the meaning of natural phenomena and one's own relation to nature, people create myths. The word "myth" is not used here in a negative sense as a contrast to "real". Rather, myth stands for the cultural glue that binds people of like communities over time. Although myths evolve over generations, they are usually based on real people, places, and events. Myths become reality to the individuals and groups who create them. There is physical reality, and there is cultural reality. The latter consists of artificial codes, ideological identities, and objects re-invented by recombination and juxtaposition (Clifford 1988). Myths are shared within communities of interest and communities of place.

READING MYTHS

Solomon (1988) defines semiotics as the analysis of ordinary objects for signs of hidden cultural interests. His four principles of semiotics are:

1. Always question the "common sense" view of things, because "common sense" is really "communal sense," i.e., the habitual opinions and perspectives of the tribe.

2. The "common sense" viewpoint is usually motivated by a cultural interest that manipulates consciousness for ideological reasons.

3. Cultures tend to conceal their ideologies behind the veil of nature, defining what they do as "natural" and condemning contrary cultural practices as "unnatural."

4. In evaluating any system of cultural practices, one must take into account the interests behind it.

Why is semiotics relevant to forest ecosystem health? Perceptions of wildlands continue to "re-create" wildlands. Science, environmentalism, wiseuse, conservation, and popular culture interpret nature according to the mythologies of its own interest group. Behind all of these mythologies lies the physical reality of wildlands. Agencies concerned with forest ecosystem health must sift through the cultural constructs to find core reality. The Forest Service cannot manage mythological wildlands.

Long before the arrival of Europeans to the New World, Native Americans interpreted their physical and mythic ties to the land through oral traditions and ceremonies. Guided by a sense of oneness with the earth (Allen 1986), they sought to balance their lives with all things through reciprocity, giving back to the earth as they took food and shelter from it. Ceremonialism was geared to seasonal change; the relation of the rising and setting of the sun, moon, and stars to special features on the landscape signalled new religious cycles. Mountains were places where sacred energy could be received from spiritual beings (Leeming 1990). The Southwestern landscapes in which Native Americans lived were sacred to them.

Questing for gold, commerce, and converts, the Spaniards moved into the New World in the 16th century. Stories of Aztec and Inca gold hordes fueled imaginations and lured expeditions into what would later be named the Southwest. Attended by Fray Juan de Padilla, Coronado came to the New World to find the fabled wealthy and intellectually perfect Seven Cities of Antilla and reunite them with the Christian world (Kessell 1987). Although the golden civilizations of Mexico and Peru were never discovered in the northern lands, future converts to Catholicism for the greater glory of God and subjects and new lands for the King of Spain were found (Crosby 1972). For Spanish colonists, the Southwest was a harsh and inhospitable land, remote beyond compare (Kessell 1989). It was, however, a land granted to them forever by their King, and as such it took on the deep cultural meaning of the Spanish homeland.

Over 60 years after Coronado's expeditions in the Southwest, English settlements on the other side of the continent were thriving on materials grown in the New World and exported to Europe. Production of plants native to the Americas and plants and animals of European origins were the basis of this commerce (Crosby 1972). By 1607, English enthusiasm for New World settlement was fueled by the opportunity for religious freedom and the potential for commerce between England and these new settlements (Miller 1956). The wilderness was not a passive concept to the new American settlers; it represented an historical challenge. From wilderness, American farmers could build a life of independence, freedom, and fulfillment–the Jeffersonian Arcadia, an ideal garden. As Tocqueville noted from a visit to America, "...the wilderness was precious to most Americans chiefly for what could be made of it–a terrain of rural peace and happiness" (Marx 1964).

In the Southwest, these and many other contrasting mythologies came together in conflict and uneasy accommodation during the 17th, 18th, and 19th centuries as the territory passed from Spanish to Mexican to American rule. Mixing mythologies is the core of American life, and many mythologies relate to American perceptions of wildlands and wild processes. Preceptions have driven and continue to drive wildland management because people cannot be separated from the land and their myths of it.

SOME POPULAR AMERICAN LAND MYTHS

There Was No Land Management in America Before Europeans Arrived.

To what extent lands of North America were managed by American Indians before Columbus arrived in the Americas is not precisely known. Nabhan (1995) states,

"...we are often left hearing the truism, before the White Man came, North America was essentially a wilderness where the few Indian inhabitants lived in constant harmony with nature ... even though millions of people speaking over two hundred languages variously burned, pruned, hunted, hacked, cleared, irrigated, and planted in an astonishing diversity of habitats. And many people imagine that these indigenous peoples lived in some static homeostasis with all the various plants and animals they encountered".

Although Nabhan may have overstated the scale of this impact, his basic point is well taken. Although hunter–gatherers who harvested seasonal plant and animal resources may have affected animal populations more than their habitats, this was not true for all cultures. Sedentary people, agriculturalists, most assuredly modified the landscapes around them, whether living in groups of ten or over a thousand.

Before the horse was brought to the New World, land use was probably concentrated in localized areas around settlements. In the arid Southwest, settlements by native peoples or colonists concentrated close to the limited water sources, and exploited shallow, nutrient-poor soils for agriculture. Near these settlements, trees became building materials and firewood; and game was a major food source (Kohler 1992). How far might a resident of a 100-year-old village of 1,000 people have walked to find new fields, firewood, or game–5 to 10 miles?

Some scholars suggest that European diseases carried by the first explorers had an early and devastating effect on the native populations of eastern North America. By the time colonists and settlers first saw these "new lands", they may have been abandoned and untended for 50 to 200 years. What the colonists may have discovered was the regeneration of previously managed forests (Nabhan 1995, Cronon 1983). English visitors noted that large sections of the southern New England forest were burned twice a year by Indian villagers. According to Thomas Morton (Cronon 1983):

"The Savages are accustomed to set fire of the Country in all places where they come, and to burne it twize a yeare, viz: at the Spring, and the fall of the leafe, [a practice that produced] open and parklike [forests where there were] more ground fires than forest fires..."

Unlike the East and other parts of the West, this degree of burning was not documented for Southwestern native cultures. Given the frequency of natural fires, deliberate burning probably would not have been necessary (Swetnam and Baisan 1996). It is likely, however, that fire was used on a local scale for specific purposes. The Europeans who had not witnessed American Indian forest and grassland management would probably not have expected or recognized the land as having been managed.

American Wildlands are "Pristine" and "Untrammeled."

As discussed above, American lands were far from untouched when Europeans arrived in the New World. The Europeans brought with them overwhelming forces of change. From the standpoint of the land, however, the most profound invasion force to enter North American was not clad in armor but in fur, hide, feathers, shells, rinds, and husks. Within 200 years, much of the biology of North America was irrevocably altered by the cattle, oxen, horses, sheep, pigs, rats, birds, plants, insects, and fungi brought from the Old World.

Overgrazing coupled with continued burning of grasslands provided fertile ground for exotic plants and reduced more palatable native species. Many plants were purposely introduced by Europeans to provide foods to which they were accustomed and ornamentals that reminded them of home (Crosby 1972). The increase in crop plants like wheat, rice, and fruits, coupled with corn and potatoes, provided a rich food base that could support greater numbers of settlers. Using oxen, the rich sod of grasslands and meadows could be broken up to allow more intense cropping, large food supplies, and even more people (Crosby 1972).

By 1800, the flora and fauna of New England were very different from the land described in the journals of early colonists. In southern New England, beaver, deer, turkey, and wolves were near to extinction; hordes of cattle overgrazed lands opened by intensive burning; native grasses were striped off and soils desiccated. Once constant streams dwindled or disappeared as forests were removed (Cronon 1983). By the 1830s, machines began to assist humans in the re-shaping of landscapes (Marx 1964).

Southwestern lands were not spared intensive use. In the 17th century, Spanish demands for tribute compelled the Pueblo Indians of New Mexico to intensify agricultural production by expanding their irrigation farming. In addition to an array of domestic livestock (sheep, goats, cattle, horses, mules, hogs, chickens) and new crops (wheat, barley, oats, onions, lettuce, watermelon, fruit trees), the Spanish also introduced native Mexican Indian crops such as tomatoes, chiles, cultivated tobacco, and new varieties of corn and beans. These introduced species along with the introduction of metal tools had a significant impact on native flora, fauna, and soils in the Southwest (Wozniak 1995, 1987).

Early livestock use had an effect in the Southwest even before the later 1800s. By 1870, the sheep population in New Mexico increased to 619,000. By the 1880s, nearly 5 million sheep were grazing in New Mexico, and this number did not decrease to 3.5 million until after the turn of the century (de Buys 1985). Because sheep graze higher up on steep slopes than cattle, their impact on fragile mountain soils is more destructive and eventually leads to flooding (de Buys 1985). The number of cattle in New Mexico increased from 148,000 in 1870 to 1.32 million in 1890; in Arizona during the same period, the number of cattle increased from 249,000 to 970,000. As trampled and naked soils heated up without adequate plant cover, cool-season, perennial, native grasses could not re-establish and were sparsely replaced by annual weeds from southern deserts. The productivity of most northern New Mexican land was lost during this time of extreme use (de Buys 1985). Arroyo formation, long considered a natural, visual trademark of the Southwest, may have been accelerated by a combination of natural climatic fluctuation and overgrazing (Hastings and Turner 1965, Cooke and Reeves 1976).

With the best of intentions, people introduced exotic plants into the Southwest to restore degraded natural areas. Saltcedar (Tamarix ramosissima), for example, was introduced to hold soils on floodplains left bare from overgrazing; and Russian-olive (Elaeagnus augustifolia) became a favorite landscaping plant because it thrives in arid landscapes with little rainfall. Contemporary diversity of Southwestern riparian ecosystems has been greatly reduced by these two plants that were so successful in their own reproduction (Dick-Peddie 1993). Native riparian species could not compete with these exotics; animals dependent on native species for food and shelter were impacted.

Clearly, American wildlands have been modified by intentional and unintentional human actions over thousands of years. Adjectives such as "pristine" and "untrammeled" seem idealistic for describing current wildland conditions, especially given the events of the past four centuries. Although some wildlands may still exhibit minimum human impact, the primeval, virginal conditions conjured up by the words "pristine" and "untrammeled" simply do not exist.

Public Lands Were Created to Preserve America's Wildlands.

The myth that public lands were created to preserve America's wildlands ignores the historical, philosophical, and political contexts within which public lands were created. By 1832, America's infatuation with the machine had begun, and the impacts of the industrial age were evident on the landscape (Marx 1964). For 200 years, grazing, hunting, and timber harvesting gradually had re-shaped wilderness as "civilization" moved further west. But machines greatly accelerated this conversion of wildlands to farmlands and forest plantations as they facilitated the movement of raw resources to Eastern markets.

As wildlands disappeared, some American artists, philosophers, poets, and naturalists noted with regret the decrease in wild America. Although seldom removing themselves from civilization, they realized that much of what was considered uniquely American, its wild landscapes, was being lost. They sounded an environmental and philosophical alarm that continues to be echoed today. If Americans lose their wildlands, do they lose their identity as well as their resources? From Thoreau to Bierstadt and Emerson to Moran, artists' views of nature profoundly affected Americans' perceptions of wildlands. Artists substituted American landscapes for European classical heritage (Novak 1980). A young nation could not compete with the classical heritage of Europe, considered fashionable by wealthy Americans. But everyone in America, rich or poor, could be proud of the spectacular and wild landscapes that rivaled the grandeur of the Old World's heritage.

In 1872, Congress designated Yellowstone the first National Park; and by 1900, many more areas in the West were added. Parks were created for several reasons. First, with new technological developments in transportation, tourism for people of means was increasing. America's appetite for dramatic scenery was immense. It was now fashionable to see one's own country, and the railroads made it possible. Secondly, concerned citizens were fighting back against the land practices of "claim, grab, and raid" decried by Wallace Stegner (Athearn 1986).

A motivation similar to that which supported national parks also prompted a group of Americans to press for the establishment of forest reserves. In 1895, a system of forest reserves was established from the public domain. Although these lands were also set aside to prevent their imminent destruction, the long-range management goals of forests were different from those of parks. Parks were managed for scenic beauty and historical content; and forests were intended for the sustained yield of timber, water, and forage. By 1905, Congress, at the urging of President Theodore Roosevelt and Gifford Pinchot, created the Forest Service to scientifically manage national forests. In 1916, Congress established the National Park Service to manage the parks for the pleasure and education of the American public.

In 1913, an event that had been unfolding over many years reached its conclusion. In the arena of public land management, philosophical lines were drawn on the banks of the Hetch-Hetchy River in Yosemite National Park. Yosemite was the crown jewel of John Muir's many travels through American wildlands. An advocate of a national park system, Muir was incensed when the City of San Francisco applied to the federal government for water rights in the Hetch-Hetchy Valley. A dam would be needed to impound the water within the already established boundaries of Yosemite. Muir waged a running battle in the news media to keep all utilitarian projects out of Yosemite. But Gifford Pinchot, the new Chief of the Forest Service, supported the use of public water to meet the needs of a growing San Francisco. Muir lost the battle to preserve Hetch-Hetchy Valley, and his loss sealed his distrust of Pinchot's conservation ideology. If Pinchot was a conservationist (see Pinchot 1947), then Muir would be a preservationist (see Muir 1916). Muir and Pinchot, now mythic figures, symbolize the dichotomy of land use philosophies that had began over 100 years before (Nash 1967).

MYTH IN FOREST MANAGEMENT

Just as forest ecosystems have ecological mechanisms for maintaining stability, human cultural systems have myths to correct imbalances. When commodity forestry is perceived as too destructive, environmental groups are motivated to action by 150 years of concern for the preservation of wildlands. When protection of plants and animals is perceived to lock out economically dependent local residents, some individuals and groups rally around 150 years of myths that the Western garden provides their living and freedom. When the availability of natural resources for industry and business is perceived as threatened, the myth of endless Western resources and the American right to convert raw material into domestic products are perceived as violated. And when the interests and actions of outside groups are perceived as threats to traditional cultures, community and spiritual leaders respond in terms of beliefs about the sacredness of the land and prior land use rights.

Mythologies are also prominent within the Forest Service. Consider, for example, the myths surrounding the ideal of "multiple use". Although the term itself came later, the concept of multiple use is derived from Pinchot's (1947) utilitarian social philosophy of forestry, "the greatest good for the greatest number in the long run". Historically, multiple use assumes that there existed an array of discrete forest interests and commodities which could be objectively weighed and allocated by a public agency in a wise and fair manner. This allocation is to be made at the local level and in such a way as to ensure a continuous flow of use and commodity into the future. National forests are thus seen as storehouses of resources to be managed and regulated for the public good. The agency, it is assumed, with its cadre of trained foresters knows best how to accomplish this.

Fire fighting is also steeped in mythology. According to the 1905 Forest Reserves Use Book, "Officers of the Forest Service, especially Forest Rangers, have no duty more important than protecting the Reserves from forest fire." Armed with this belief, the Forest Service and other public agencies launched an aggressive and highly effective fire suppression program that has dominated forestry for over 60 years. The myth that fire is the greatest enemy of the forest was reinforced over the years by the powerful symbol of Smokey Bear and the most effective public service campaign ever waged.

Both the mythologies of multiple use and Smokey Bear influence land managers' perceptions of the land as well as their perceptions of a role as stewards of the nation's forests. Under these myths, management tends to be functional, technology-based, and output-oriented. The interdependence of natural resources, adapting to change, and non-commodity uses may be recognized but are given less weight. Professionalism and agency autonomy are highly valued. Public dissatisfaction, when encountered, is attributed to the public's failure to understand and the need to better educate the public.

THE SITUATION TODAY

How do mythologies play out today? The population in the Southwest has been increasing rapidly (see Figure 5.5). Unless states, counties, and towns place moratoriums on new growth and housing, populations will continue to grow. Many people and businesses moving into the Southwest bring entirely new mythology-based perceptions of wildlands with them. New mythologies are also at work within the Forest Service. As stated in the beginning of this chapter, mixing mythologies is at the core of American life. A diversity of mythologies may also be a source of insight and creativity in finding solutions to problems. Although it may not be an easy process, recognizing and respecting where others are coming from is a crucial step in the communication challenge now facing the Southwestern Region.

A review of Solomon's (1988) principles of semiotics may be helpful in looking into what people are really trying to say about their forests and themselves. Numerous people inside and outside the Forest Service continue to express a desire for national forests to be returned to "pre-settlement" conditions. Some individuals go so far as to want the Forest Service "to get out of the woods and let Nature heal herself". Still others see their independent way of life as loggers, ranchers, or farmers threatened by outsiders, both the government and the urban elite.

CONCLUSION

There were vibrant native cultures using Southwestern forests long before Europeans arrived; and words like pristine and untrammeled are more idealistic than practical in the context of forest health. Nonetheless, public perceptions of the land and what it should provide cannot be discounted. Neither can an agency's own perceptions of management responsibility go unexamined. Forest health depends on the ability of people to communicate and collaborate to find not the "right answer" from a single perspective, but a range of useful solutions and experiments from which we all can learn.

Aldo Leopold (1949) observes that "the outstanding discovery of the 20th century is not radio, or television, but rather the complexity of the land organisms." Are human ideologies and relations any less complex? Sustaining forest ecosystems requires all of us to recognize that the land and the culture are one. Nature matters because we are nature. There is a human dimension to ecosystem management. This is a difficult task in an already complex and contentious social and political environment. A collaborative approach to internal and external communications seems essential, although it may seem at odds with the former Forest Service myth of autonomy. New visions that better serve the times can, perhaps, better serve public land stewardship. The basic challenge is whether we can align our internal mythologies and external relationships to successfully address the issue of forest health.