Archaeologists have long recognized that wilderness, and we’ll use the term in the strictest sense here, is an effective means to protect fragile and irreplaceable remnants of the human experience on this planet. Roads into the isolated pristine results in easier access to those who would loot and destroy the past. More development inevitably leads to the destruction of sites caught in the path of new pipelines or well pads. Irresponsible use of off-road vehicles is damaging the scientific record at an unprecedented rate.
It should seem obvious that archaeology and conservation are natural partners in the many efforts to preserve wilderness qualities on Western lands where the archaeological record is so abundant and well preserved. Then again, the obvious can become obscured by the tyranny of traditional assumptions about wilderness and what it really means.
As succinctly stated in the Wilderness Act (and strictly interpreted by many of my friends in the wilderness battles), wilderness is a place where “the earth and its community of life are untrammeled by man, where man himself is a visitor who does not remain,” where it retains “its primeval character and influence, without permanent improvements or human habitation,” and where “the imprint of man’s work substantially unnoticeable.”
As one acquaintance quipped, “wilderness is the purity of nature with no evidence man has screwed it up.”
And therein lies the rub. Archaeology by its very nature is the study of mankind, an attempt to explain the human experience, good and bad, through all that people left behind during their sojourn here. It is a landscape of homes and fields, granaries and places of worship, of roads and water control features. Yes, roads and dams.
In fact, any site more than 50 years old is a “historic property” recognized under the National Historic Preservation Act. In effect, there is no legal difference between a Chacoan road constructed a thousand years ago and a CCC road constructed in the 1930s.
Given that humans have occupied every nook and cranny of the American West for the past 14,000 years, there really are few, if any, places that are in the purest sense “untrammeled by man,” and in many instances, the imprint of “man’s work” is indeed quite noticeable. The ubiquitous cliff dwellings and granaries found in the Four Corners, each left behind by the ancestors of modern Puebloan peoples a thousand years ago or so, would appear to meet most definitions of “permanent improvements or human habitation.”
Few would argue that Cedar Mesa in southeastern Utah is a landscape worthy of wilderness protection. And indeed it is a wild and wonderful place. But what we are really talking about with Cedar Mesa is wilderness protection for the estimated 100,000 archaeological sites found there – remnants of the past that constitute the fundamental core of the wilderness experience enjoyed by tens of thousands every year.
As a conservationist and an archaeologist, I am frequently caught on one side or the other of the “man bad, nature good” paradigm. It is a false premise, certainly, but one that nonetheless persists on its own inertia. Such notions deter us from the broader reality that people have always been a part of the landscape, that the remnants of the collective human experience, whether grand or subtle, help us all to understand better our own place on Earth and our responsibility towards its resources.
Preservation of archaeology and history is unfortunately an accidental byproduct of wilderness protection, typically relegated to the “other” values mentioned in the Wilderness Act. In reality, archaeological resources should be a fundamental component of any wilderness discussion. Wilderness inherently includes the human experience. It always has.
Jerry D. Spangler is a professional archaeologist and executive director of the Colorado Plateau Archaeological Alliance, which advocates for the protection of cultural resources on federal lands in Utah, Colorado and Arizona. He is a research curator at the Utah Museum of Natural History and a member of the Utah Bureau of Land Management Resource Advisory Council. CPAA works closely with The Wilderness Society, the Colorado Wilderness Network and the Southern Utah Wilderness Alliance.
I enjoyed this article Mr. Spangler. I was fortunate to go on some “archeology expeditions” with my father a few years back and it has left an impression on me ever since to understand the past and how humanity has evolved. However, your article leaves me a little confused and need of further clarification, most likely because of my lack of understanding of the subject. You said that you are a conservationist and are for the preservation of nature because of the scientific benefit that it offers. Then to my understanding, which again, may be from ignorance and lack of knowledge of the subject, is that you say that man’s impressions on nature are in fact not bad and are actually good. I guess I don’t understand if you are against or for man leaving remnants of its actions, whether it is for search for resources or the building of societies that may be in a place where others may have lived hundreds or thousands of years ago. Thanks for the article. I hope I get to go on more archeology adventures with my dad before he falls off the grid and moves somewhere unknown down in southern Utah
To Bryan Spangler,
To use the author, Jerry Spangler’s, own words:
I am frequently caught on one side or the other of the “man bad, nature good” paradigm. It is a false premise, certainly, but one that nonetheless persists on its own inertia.
I think you are confused because this isn’t an issue that is black and white, and it seems that the author is acknowledging that by not saying “man bad, nature good.” Rather, it’s a complicated issue that there is no easy answer for. How do you show reverence for the early dwellers and what they left behind, without acknowledging that we too are inhabitants of the land and perhaps have the same right our ancestors did of living on and using the land?
As the author says, humans have always been part of the landscape. I think the reason for introspection and heightened concern on the parts of activists like Jerry Spangler is because of the reality that the humans that are part of today’s landscape have the power to inflict a much greater footprint on wilderness than their ancestors could ever have imagined, for good or bad.
To Jessica Spangler,
Very well said. I’m proud to have such analytical minds share the name, “Spangler.”