“The least common use of forest land is simply leaving it alone—the idea of wilderness. Wilderness is a debated concept: What is wilderness? Was there ever wilderness? Should there be wilderness? Managing a forest “sustainably” for pleasure or other uses is more common, but fewer people and mechanisms focus on just letting the forest be.“
Rob advocates for preserving forests in their natural state and maybe recreate wilderness, a concept that gained prominence with national parks in the late 19th and conservation efforts in the 1960s-80s. Initially, he considered using his trees for construction but shifted to valuing untouched forests. He purchased 880 acres of historically wilderness land, now logged, intending to preserve it without cutting trees:
“We're not cutting the trees down. No, we don't. I just observe the forest doing its thing. I just think “What's the forest doing?” Whatever it's doing. The tree falls down or the trails get encumbered by something. Then that's just what's happening. Are the animals using it in a different way? That's the brilliance of it—the ability to go back every year and see it change, recognizing we're not actually managing it. Every forest nowadays is one that's being managed for the human perspective. That's one of my favorite parts about life, just recognizing that the forest is just doing what it's doing.“
He benefits from a tax program that keeps costs low while allowing him to showcase what a recovering, growing, natural forest looks like without logging. He believes that without this tax advantage, he would have to log the forest to sustain it financially. Although meaningful changes in his forest will take decades to become apparent due to the slow growth of the trees, he hopes that if the public visits the parcel and sees the big trees, they will realize the potential for such growth and preservation. He likes to think that:
“If you leave something alone long enough, just trust that there will be beauty.”
Rob believes the lack of protected wilderness close to communities is unfortunate for our kids, as it offers educational and inspirational value. He emphasizes that recognizing and preserving what remains, even if imperfect or if forests are scarred from previous logging, is valuable, since we're left with remnants from history:
“You can't say “I'm choosing this land” or “I'm gonna buy this land because it is the most beautiful that needs to be preserved”. We are looking for scraps from the table. [...] In a way it's sad that this is the forest that I got but I'm so happy and so proud and so fulfilled with the fact that it happened but it's sad that this is our reality. That you can afford a forest that's been cut seven or eight times, maybe ten times, that doesn't have nearly the ecosystem that it had once upon a time, that has drainage and watershed issues which are different, that has invasive species, but this is what we have. This is what we inherited and I think that recognizing that is still a beautiful thing.[...] I think you take what you can get and I took what I could get and it was serendipity and we got lucky.”
Rob observes that small land trusts and individual efforts increasingly contribute to conservation, indicating a cultural shift. He references California’s "30 by 30" initiative, which aims to protect 30% of its lands and waters by 2030, and Doug and Kristine Tompkins' donation of 10 million acres of land in Chile which resulted in the creation of 10 national parks, showing how resource redistribution can benefit conservation. He notes that California Forever’s efforts to acquire large tracts of land to build a new city show that similar market-based strategies could apply to conservation. Historical land transactions highlight shifts in land value and priorities. For instance, the government had to spend $700 million to reacquire 300 acres of Redwoods by 1970, a stark contrast to the $2 per acre settlers paid in 1860. He recalls the Manhattan Project in New York, which envisioned blending wilderness with development, a concept lacking practical implementation but highlighting the need for preserving existing natural areas. He sees potential for laws to allow conservation, such as eminent domain:
“Eminent domain is a legal concept in the States where if the government decides that it needs to build a highway, and your house sits on the thing that's for the greater good, the government can claim your property. Usually it's people of color or people that are economically disenfranchised who get affected the most. And they did that in the middle of Brooklyn to build a new basketball stadium recently. The idea that you can take from somebody for a greater good exists, but it's never for wilderness. It's only for building something.”
To potentially protect more land in the future, Rob references Edward O. Wilson’s “Half-Earth” concept, which advocates for conserving half of the planet’s surface. He suggests economic incentives could help encourage relocation but acknowledges that reorganizing human settlements to make space for large conservation preserves is complex and politically sensitive.
Whether it's a small, expensive parcel in Europe or a large, unwanted desert land in the U.S., preserving and potentially re-aggregating these areas sensibly is valuable for forming large preserves, moving closer to the “Half Earth” concept. Despite the complexities, he remains optimistic, that increasing conservation efforts in the future, driven by cultural and political shifts, will to prioritize conservation over logging.