top of page

Nature Wouldn't Exist Without Culture

American culture teaches us that the outside is separate from society. We learn that what we do in cities, towns, at home, or work is different from the natural landscape. The expectations of how we act, dress, speak, and move are all linked to where we are. We believe when we are in the woods we reconnect to something that is without these cultural restraints. Landscape has been separated from the complexities of culture, economy, politics, social structure as a whole, but the reality is that nothing exists outside of culture.


Human beings are social creatures. We learn and grow together, engaging unconsciously with cultural systems all everyday. What we know, what we do, and how we do it are all part of our cultural understanding of what is normal, expected, and accepted.


A tree I encountered on a walk through Descanos Gardens while home in Los Angeles over the winter holidays.

Nature is a funny thing. The word itself makes it feel as though it is separate from anything that humans create. Nature would exist without humans. The outdoors does not need us to continue to function in the complex ecosystems that have existed for millions of years. And yet, nature wouldn’t exist without people because nature is a category we have created, in a system of meaning that we have grown to accept as normal.


Take Wilderness for example, we use this word frequently and interchangeably with others that we think are similar, nature, the outdoors, wild, the woods…. Of course there are small differences between these terms. Some of these words carrying more meaning, or more specific meaning. Saying “wilderness” implies something more desolate and isolated than “the outdoors.” We think of nature as slightly different from the wild. People I’ve asked say nature is everywhere, the wind, the neighbor’s lawn, but wilderness is out there, away from people.


Wilderness was made up. Wilderness is a classification of space, defined by legislation, approved by the federal government, and regulated by land management agencies such as the National Park Service, the Bureau of Land Management, and the United States Forest Service.

Wilderness as defined by the 1964 Wilderness Act states:


“wilderness, in contrast with those areas where man and his work dominate the landscape, is hereby recognized as an area where the earth and its community of life are untrammeled by man, where man himself is a visitor who does not remain. An area of wilderness is further defined to mean in this Act an area of undeveloped Federal land retaining its primeval character and influence, without permanent improvements or human habitation, which is protected and managed as to preserve its natural conditions…”


Wilderness is a place, defined and constructed through human culture.


The difference between what is deemed forest and what is designated Wilderness may not be seen by the blind eye, those lines are arbitrary. They carry great cultural, legal, and environmental meaning, this is not to say they are not important, but rather to speak to the human creation of the idea, the system in which we understand the idea, and the structures in which this idea has meaning.


The trail following the McKenize River as it cascades over Sahalie and Koosah Falls on the Willamette National Forest. The river and falls are a short walk from the parking lot.

So, nature, like Wilderness, and all the other words we might use, are part of our cultural system. These ideas operate in opposition and through association to other concepts. Thus, while we may interpret nature to be separate from society, or wilderness to be unique from culture, truthfully they are interconnected.


In this same way, our cultural expectations of how we act, dress, speak, and move are all linked to where we are, anywhere, not just society. There are expectations of how one should dress outside and what type of gear one should carry. People are judged based on their knowledge of the lingo and jargon of outdoor pursuits, or how they recreate.


This connection between landscape and culture, understanding that what we may perceive as separate from our social expectations is intricately linked to them, allows us to acknowledge the ways outdoor culture has become exclusive.


Perhaps chatting with a new hiker about peak bagging on some fourteeners will isolate them. Maybe placing rigid definitions on thru hiking or romanticizing backpacking instead of car camping is condescending and elitist. Perhaps the nature we encounter is our neighborhoods is no less valuable than the desolate wilderness.


By exploring the ways our culture has shaped our understandings of what we do in cities, towns, neighborhoods, we can better understand what we have, perhaps unknowingly, carried to other spaces.


A foggy day in Eugene, OR. This photo was taken on the local bike path that parallels the Willamette River in town.

By recognizing our own biases and expectations we can question the importance we have placed on certain things. Does it matter if someone isn’t wearing hiking boots? Is it only camping if you carry everything you need on your back instead of in a car? Is a picnic in any way a less legitimate way of engaging with public lands than taking a hike?


Breaking down our expectations and being more kind and accepting to others allows both a pathway for more people to enjoy our public lands, and relieves some of the pressure that outdoor culture has placed on each of us, to live up to an expectation.


A wise friend of mine, Ruby McConnell, said it best, “all outdoor experiences are unique, and totally valid.”

14 views0 comments

Recent Posts

See All
bottom of page