Professional Documents
Culture Documents
Walck, Strong
/ September
/ LEOPOLD’S
2001 LAND ETHIC
Articles
CHRISTA WALCK
KELLY C. STRONG
Michigan Technological University
Aldo Leopold’s notion of a land ethic provides a useful conceptual framework for interpret-
ing environmental histories, which in turn may be used to plan more effective land use poli-
cies for the future. In this article, the authors use a Leopoldian framework as a heuristic
device to interpret the environmental history of the land in one small place—the Keweenaw
Peninsula of northern Michigan—where successive human purposes altered the landscape
dramatically over time. This article identifies the historical roles that power relations and
the land ethic have played in land use and land health. The article concludes by identifying
the need for community action based in a land ethic to maintain a healthy forest through sus-
tainable use. Although it is unlikely the Keweenaw forest will return to its preindustrial state,
the community can aim for a forest that exemplifies Leopold’s qualities of integrity, stability,
productivity, and beauty.
Once you learn to read the land, I have no fear of what you will do to it, or with it.
—Aldo Leopold (1949)
Authors’ Note: An earlier version of this article was presented at the 2000 Academy of Management Meeting in Toronto, Canada. We
would like to thank Barbara and Eric Ribbens, Gordon Rands, John Jermier, Blair Orr, Carol MacLennan, and the anonymous
reviewers for their encouragement and exceptionally helpful comments.
Organization & Environment, Vol. 14 No. 3, September 2001 261-289
© 2001 Sage Publications
261
262 ORGANIZATION & ENVIRONMENT / September 2001
landscapes that reveal changing processes and attitudes regarding land use and
resource consumption in a northern hardwood forest ecosystem.
For our conceptual framework, we turn to Aldo Leopold, whose vision of a land
ethic and the restoration of degraded landscapes resonates with the history we will
tell. In his classic work, A Sand County Almanac (Leopold, 1949/1970), he read the
environmental history of the sand counties of Wisconsin and called for a land ethic
to restore land degraded by misuse. We have read his text closely to make visible the
structure of his argument, which serves as our heuristic framework for conceptual-
izing the relationships between human activity and land health over time. We sup-
plement Leopold’s argument with two additional current views on power relations
and land use.
Our approach may seem unorthodox for scholars interested in overarching ques-
tions of the relationship between organizations and the natural environment. We
are, after all, using a piece of nature writing to frame the history of a remote place
that few readers ever visit. Yet our purpose is to demonstrate how a close reading of
the environmental history of a place, guided by Leopold’s vision, can point the way
to a future in which a clearly articulated land ethic promotes the sustainable use of
land resources by human collectivities, whether they be tribes, organizations, or
nation-states. We hope to encourage scholars interested in sustainability to think
seriously about the role of a land ethic for organizations.
and wolves have begun to migrate from Minnesota. Of course, black flies, mos-
quitoes, and red squirrels are also members of this forest community. With little
industry nearby and a scattered population of about 38,000, the air and water are
relatively clean. All of these characteristics—rock, forest, water, and wildlife—
combine to create a landscape of unique beauty.
Today, the visitor’s first view of the Keweenaw is the wooded hills north of “the
Portage,” a waterway ending in Portage Lake, which separates the Keweenaw Pen-
insula (locals call it “the island”) from the mainland of Michigan’s Upper Peninsula
(see Figure 1).
The hills of the Keweenaw present a forest of green in summer, a blur of orange
and yellow leaves in autumn, and spindly brown sticks studded with a white frost-
ing of snow in winter. This gateway to one of the “last best places” beckons the visi-
tor with a compelling text: Here is the ancient forest of heart’s desire.
It is not the ancient forest, however, that greets the visitor. Although the
Keweenaw is a place of splendid beauty, we must read the text of the hills today as a
degraded landscape, a second growth of maple, aspen, cedar, and hemlock where
white pine once grew thick and tall. In the early 1900s, these hills were bare, their
trees felled for use as props and stulls in the mineshafts, fuel in the mine works’ fur-
naces, and lumber for building the fast-growing cities of an expanding nation. It is
hard to imagine the earlier pine forest on these hills. Now, only a tiny remnant of the
long-lived pines are left in the Estivant Pines sanctuary in the remotest northern tip
of the Keweenaw, where the big trees grow 3 to 4 feet in diameter.
There is a lesson for us here. If we are unable to read the land as it is (a degraded
forest), we will read our own desire (the ancient forest) into the landscape. In
264 ORGANIZATION & ENVIRONMENT / September 2001
Leopoldian terms, there will be a disparity between the way we view land and how
the land actually behaves (Tallmadge, 1987). If we cannot read the land as it is, we
can hardly prepare to write its future well.
Land Health
The core of our framework rests on Leopold’s vision of land health. Leopold
(1949/1970) defined land as a community that includes “soils, waters, plants, and
animals” (p. 239, LE8) and urged us to see land as a complex organism. Land health,
he argued, is the “capacity of the land for self-renewal” (p. 258, LE). In “The Land
Ethic,” Leopold emphasized the need to preserve the integrity, stability, and beauty
9
of a biotic community (p. 262, LE) and consider these attributes in conjunction
with the economic value of land. In “The Round River,” Leopold argued that
biodiversity offers land more chances for self-renewal in the face of human impact,
and he defined diversity as “a food chain aimed to harmonize the wild and the tame
in the joint interest of stability, productivity, and beauty [italics added]” (p.199,
RR). Leopold thus offers four attributes by which to assess land health: integrity,
stability, productivity, and beauty.
First, integrity. Integrity refers to the wholeness of the community, represented
by a set of interdependencies in which each member participates.10 Today, we refer
to this interdependent community as an ecosystem. Leopold captured the image of
integrity in an energy circuit: Land is a “fountain of energy flowing through a cir-
cuit of soils, plant and animals” (p. 253, LE) using a mechanism of dependencies
called food chains (p. 252, LE). The destruction of a key member of the community
violates integrity by blocking the flow of energy through the system and disrupting
the complex network of food chains.
Second, stability. By stability, Leopold does not mean stasis but rather a condi-
tion in which land thrives. Leopold evoked the image of a stable “land pyramid”
(p. 251, LE), which rests on a base of good soil. Although the pyramid may look
like a “tangle of [food] chains so complex as to seem disorderly,” it is in fact a stable
system, a “highly organized structure” (p. 252, LE). As members of the land com-
266 ORGANIZATION & ENVIRONMENT / September 2001
Land Use
(Human purposes)
Land Health
• integrity
• stability
• productivity
• beauty
FIGURE 2: Model of the Influence of Land Ethic and Power Relations on Land Health
munity, humans ensure stability by working with natural processes, not against
them. This is the goal of conservation, which Leopold defines as “a state of har-
mony between men and land” (p. 243, LE). Although absolute harmony is as lofty
and unachievable an ideal as absolute justice, said Leopold, we should nevertheless
aspire to it (p. 210, NH).
It should be noted that natural forces can also destabilize land. Leopold observed
the impact of fire, flood, snow, and ice on biota and therefore on land health, and we
could add tornadoes, windstorms, and other climatic events to his list. Nonetheless,
some natural forces, such as fire, may appear destabilizing from a human perspec-
tive yet contribute to a natural process of succession, and natural events such as fire
and desertification are sometimes responses to human agency and land use (see
below) rather than the result of natural forces.
The third attribute of land health is productivity. For the entire land community,
including humans, to survive, the land must produce what this community needs to
survive. The question for Leopold was whether the productive use of land by the
human community will allow the land itself to remain ecologically productive. An
overemphasis on the economic or commercial value of land blinds us, said
Leopold, to the uneconomic parts that allow the land to function with integrity. We
will discuss this further in the section on land use.
The fourth attribute is beauty. Beauty is perhaps the most difficult attribute of
land health to define. Although Leopold did not explicitly define what he meant by
beauty, he was talking about more than scenery. His conceptualization of a land
aesthetic—“the only genuinely autonomous natural aesthetic in Western philo-
sophical literature” (Callicott, 1987b, p. 168)—is derived from pleasurable experi-
Walck, Strong / LEOPOLD’S LAND ETHIC 267
ence with nature but also requires a certain way of seeing, which Leopold called
“perception.” This idea is developed in his essay “Conservation Esthetic,” in which
Leopold saw the “intrinsic beauty of the organism called America” in “the incredi-
ble intricacies of the plant and animal community” (p. 291, CE). A land aesthetic
requires “perception of the natural processes by which land and the living things
upon it have achieved their characteristic forms (evolution) and by which they
maintain their existence (ecology)” (p. 290, CE). Wildflowers, birds, and “unpro-
ductive” trees all contribute to the beauty of a place, but we need to be perceptive to
see them. Finally, such perception “entails no consumption and no dilution of any
resource” (p. 290, CE). Thus, the beauty of land is, for Leopold, “an important mea-
sure of the rightness and wrongness of actions” (Callicott, 1987b, p. 158). Such aes-
thetic perception has a direct bearing on land use.
All four attributes are interwoven. An ecosystem with integrity tends to be stable
and productive for members of the land community. Beauty resides in the ability to
see and value that integrity.
Land Use
Land use will be defined here as human exploitation of land and its resources for
human purposes. Some uses contribute to land health, whereas others do not. Uses
that preserve the integrity of the system contribute to land health. Uses that shorten
the food chains or damage the soil, the base of the land pyramid, contribute to insta-
bility and diminish land health.
A practicing forester, Leopold recognized that humans will alter, manage, and
use land and its resources to ensure human survival. However, Leopold believed
that the greater the alteration of the land by land use, the lower the probability of
recovery and therefore of land health. From his historical reading of many land-
scapes, Leopold concluded that “mechanized” and industrial human activities
tended to degrade land. Single-species tree plantations and single-crop agriculture
of wheat and corn on prairies destroy complex chains of life, and industrial farming
contaminates soil and water.
Although Leopold (1949/1970, p. 256, LE) believed that with significant con-
servation efforts, land degraded by agriculture and industry may readjust, he argued
that such degraded land recovers at a reduced level of productivity, which in turn
has a reduced carrying capacity for people, plants, and animals. Such human land
use may not be sustainable over time. Moreover, his reading of the land suggested
that recovery was rarely synthesized from nonnative, imported plants and animals
(p. 255, LE) and that reintroduction of native species was more likely to speed
recovery, rebuilding ecosystem integrity. King (1995) echoed Leopold’s view
when he noted that in the extreme, land management optimized for a single envi-
ronmental attribute can destabilize the ecosystem sufficiently to create irreversible
ecosystem collapse.
Like Leopold, Batterbury and Bebbington (1999) also emphasized the interac-
tive nature of land health and land use. They argued that we must recognize that the
land responds to the ways in which land is used and that this response influences
subsequent patterns of human land use and resource access. King (1995) docu-
mented that sometimes the ways in which the environment chooses to respond are
unpredictable, causing unpleasant surprises. In our own age of “extreme weather
events,” scientists argue over the causes of these surprises—long-term climate
cycles or human actions that have an impact on climate.
268 ORGANIZATION & ENVIRONMENT / September 2001
Land use thus affects land health, and reduced land health in turn affects the pro-
ductive use of land. Because land health and land use exist in an interactive relation-
ship, any definition of sustainable land use must incorporate a notion of land health.
A historical perspective on land use. Leopold (1949/1970), Batterbury and
Bebbington (1999), and King (1995) emphasized not only an interactive perspec-
tive but also a historical one. To see the interaction of land health and land use most
accurately, we must view it over time.
Leopold (1949/1970) demonstrated this perspective when he used the rhetorical
device of sawing through a lightning-struck oak to reveal, ring by ring, the history
of the sand counties of Wisconsin from 1865 to the 1940s. With relentless attention
to detail, he chronicled the degradation of the biotic community by the combined
efforts of both natural forces of drought, flood, and blizzard and human forces of
public policy, legislation, and commerce. He concluded that “historical events
[italics added], hitherto explained solely in terms of human enterprise, were actu-
ally biotic interactions between people and land [italics added]” (p. 241, LE).
Batterbury and Bebbington (1999) reached a similar conclusion as they studied
land and resource degradation in the developing world. Calling for a historical anal-
ysis of landscapes and a more penetrating interpretation of the social and institu-
tional dynamics that structure access to and use of resources, they emphasize
nature-society interactions over time—the multiple dimensions of interactions
between people, their institutions, and a range of biotic resources (trees, soil, water,
and animals). Only a historical perspective, they argued, can provide an appropriate
context for understanding the often slow and sporadic human and natural processes
that affect landscapes as well as allow us to identify factors that are consistently
important over time.
King (1995) demonstrated the effectiveness of this historical perspective when
he turned to the historical record to find communities that had successfully avoided
“ecological surprises.” He discovered four factors that he hypothesized were con-
sistently important in preventing surprises or, stated positively, creating land health
through appropriate land use. These four factors include common ownership of
important natural resources (i.e., community), a shared understanding that land use
rights were not absolute (i.e., cooperation), acceptance of a public right to constrain
conditions for personal gain (i.e., limitations that entail responsibility), and local
political autonomy. The first three factors are remarkably consistent with the under-
lying principles of Leopold’s land ethic, to which we now turn.
A Land Ethic
Because human land use has such a profound impact on land health, Leopold
proposed that we need a land ethic to govern sustainable land use (this concept is
most clearly articulated in the essay “The Land Ethic”). Key principles of his land
ethic are the concepts of community, cooperation, and responsibility.
Leopold first defined an ethic “ecologically, [as] a limitation on freedom of
action in the struggle for existence” and “philosophically, [as] a differentiation of
social from anti-social conduct” (p. 238, LE). He went on to state that “all eth-
ics . . . rest upon a single premise: that the individual is a member of a community of
interdependent parts” (p. 239). Ethical conduct is thus conduct that benefits the
community. Leopold then argued that we must enlarge our notion of community to
include plants, animals, soils, and waters that we collectively call the land and of
which we are an inextricable, interdependent, symbiotic10 part. Although our
Walck, Strong / LEOPOLD’S LAND ETHIC 269
instincts prompt us to compete for a place in this community, Leopold believed that
a land ethic should prompt us to cooperate as well, “perhaps in order that there may
be a place to compete for” (p. 239). A land ethic should remind us of our place in the
community and cause us to carefully consider how our instinct to compete—to use
the land solely for human purposes and human survival—will affect the ability of
other members of the land community to survive and be productive.
By emphasizing the idea of a biotic community, Leopold tried to shift human
land use patterns away from the prevailing notions of “economic biology,” which
focused on maximizing yields through monocropping for market (Bradley, 1999,
p. 14). In “The Land Ethic,” Leopold observed that “land, like Odysseus’
slave-girls, is still property. The land-relation is still strictly economic, entailing
privileges but not obligations” (p. 238). If an ethic entails “a limitation on freedom
of action in the struggle for existence” (p. 238), then a land ethic should entail a lim-
itation on the freedom of land use, grounded in the understanding that cooperation
entails obligations, that is, responsibilities. Violating these obligations—degrading
land in ways that break down the ecosystem and deprive others of the rights to
existence—is thus unethical. Although Leopold supported actions by the federal
government to restrict activities that degraded land (and spent much of his life in
government service), he also knew from experience that this was not the only rem-
edy and decried the tendency to “relegate to government all necessary jobs that pri-
vate landowners fail to perform” (p. 250, LE). An ethical obligation—a land
ethic—that assigned responsibility to the private landowner for maintaining and
improving the health of his or her land was needed (p. 250, LE). Such a land ethic
generates an ecological conscience in which each individual takes responsibility
for land health.
Power Relations
Adopting a land ethic for sustainable land use has significant implications for
the many groups in society that compete for access to land and its resources. This
access and use is significantly affected by the way in which power relations are con-
structed in a society. A critical issue in the construction of these power relations is
the notion of a common good as reflected in public policy and enacted by the
agency of the state.
Batterbury and Bebbington (1999) studied the social and institutional forces that
distribute and redistribute power in ways that affect access to resources and land
use. They identified the importance of four institutions—government, community,
market, and property—as determinants of land use and land quality and concluded
that no one institution is always necessarily better for sustainable use. Moreover,
they argued, land management depends greatly on land, labor, capital, and informa-
tional resources, although better access to resources, including knowledge, may not
result in more sustainable use.
Batterbury and Bebbington (1999) also observed that how land is used depends
on dominant policy ideas about resource use and reflects the balance of power in
society between local, national, and global interests. A “local political ecology”
developed from an agenda set by local people may lead to very different land uses
than a national political ecology focused on preserving natural resources. National
environmental protection programs managed at the federal level in the United
States over the past 30 years have met with considerable success, reducing the use
of harmful pesticides and reversing the decline of water quality in many rivers and
lakes. Global initiatives for managing rainforests and pollutants have also started to
270 ORGANIZATION & ENVIRONMENT / September 2001
make some headway. However, national and global policies may not solve all prob-
lems of land health and land use, including controversies over land access. If land
health depends on the integrity of the ecosystem, policy must be set at the level of
the ecosystem being affected.
Interestingly, in the historical examples of environmental recovery cited by King
(1995), central governments played limited roles in each of the recoveries. Instead,
successful communities were characterized by local autonomy. King suggested
that “community property management” can be a successful organizing principle
that will prevent ecological surprise and thus promote sustainable land use. Com-
munity property management grants access to clearly defined and often competing
users of resources according to clearly understood (either implicitly or explicitly)
rules, such as zoning covenants and land use restrictions. In his theoretical synthe-
sis of sustainability literature, King extended the work of Ostrom (1990) and
Holling (1980) in an important way. King’s theoretical framework evolved in part
from Ostrom’s demonstration of the wisdom of using collective action in the treat-
ment of natural resources as the property of the commons as well as from Holling’s
contention that environmental assessment and behavior must be viewed from the
historical framework of behavioral changes over time.
As noted earlier, Leopold (1949/1970) also believed that the federal government
was not solely capable of solving land health problems, although it did have a sig-
nificant role to play. Although he advocated government regulation, intelligent
management of public lands, and the creation of wilderness preserves, he also
opposed expanded federal government policy on some issues, greatly increasing
government ownership of land, and government land-use subsidies. He feared that
turning over the task of conserving land to public agencies would not prevent “good
private land from becoming poor public land” (p. 201, RR).
Nonetheless, Leopold realized that because “most members of the land commu-
nity have no economic value” (p. 246, LE), they have no voice in the public policy
arena and cannot effectively compete for their place in the community. A conse-
quence, therefore, of operating only from an economic ethic for land is that we are
likely to eradicate “unproductive” species, that is, those that have no economic
value at the present time. Although the wildflowers and songbirds that he classified
as without economic value are now, 50 years later, recognized as economically use-
ful for their medicinal value and their role in a booming wildlife industry (feeding
wild birds is big business), the same cannot be said of species of trees, which
Leopold observed “have been ‘read out of the party’ by economics-minded forest-
ers because they grow too slowly, or have too low a sale value to pay as timber
crops: white cedar, tamarack, cypress, beech, and hemlock are examples” (p. 249,
LE).12
Thus, a land ethic that defines a land community broadly rather than narrowly is
more likely to prevent the unproductive species that provide integrity, beauty, and
13
stability to the ecosystem from slipping from the view of public policy.
that is partially modified yet multipurpose with multiple species is good, others
believe that a managed forest that is simplified and market oriented is good, and yet
others entertain a populist notion of a good forest as one used by the people in what-
ever way they choose (Batterbury & Bebbington, 1999; see also Brown & Harris,
1998).14 Although indigenous forest management may not always yield the most
sustainable practice (Conte, 1999), whether contemporary “best management prac-
15
tices” for forest land represents an improvement over historical practices can only
be determined by investigating a particular forest.
As we proceed to examine the forests of the Keweenaw over time, we will draw
on our framework of land health and land use to discern the presence of a “good for-
est.” In particular, we will assess three areas:
The lessons learned from this historical perspective on land use and renewal will
provide insight into possibilities for sustainable use.
acidic soil. About 3,000 years ago, the modern communities of plant and animals
that characterize the northern hardwood forest were established, and by 2,000 years
ago, the modern lake levels had been reached.
Soon after the glaciers departed, people moved in, taking advantage of newly
habitable land. Classified as Late Paleoindian by archaeologists, these colonists
lived in small mobile groups near water and were the earliest copper users on the
continent. A site in the Keweenaw may be the earliest copper-working site in east-
ern North America, possibly dating to 7000 B.C., but a more likely date for the
beginning of copper use in the region is 5500-4800 B.C. These colonists would be
the first of many who came to the Keweenaw to exploit its rich natural resources.
As the climate warmed, people adapted to the locally available supply of plants
and animals as well as copper. An assemblage of copper and other artifacts in the
Keweenaw belonging to “the Old Copper Culture” most likely represents periodic
and specialized use of the region for its resources, rather than sustained settlement
through about 500 B.C. Trade of copper artifacts, which were often symbolic rather
than practical in nature, was probably accomplished in family groups through trade
links that dispersed copper throughout North America. In approximately 500 A.D.,
life began to change. The new Woodland culture, although continuous with the
past, is marked by intensification of subsistence and increasing interaction, includ-
ing trade, with neighboring regions (Martin, 1999).
Burial grounds and settlements near Lake Superior testify to the Woodland cul-
ture, which belonged to the Algonquin language group. Its descendants are the
Ojibwa.16 In historical times, the Ojibwa practiced a subsistence pattern of land use
based on hunting and fishing. With only 120 to 140 frost-free days per year, there
was limited potential for Indian agriculture (Tanner, 1987). The land was sparsely
settled. There were probably only a few hundred Ojibwa living in the Keweenaw at
any one time by the 18th century (Lankton, 1997). Maps of Indian villages and
tribal distribution show only one village at the mouth of Keweenaw Bay by 1768
and another on the Portage by 1810 (Tanner, 1987, Maps 13 and 20).
Ojibwa culture suggests that the forest was revered. Ojibwa traditions place
plants prior to animals because plants could exist alone and were not dependent on
other beings for their existence. Each plant is considered to have a unique
soul-spirit, and each earth form such as a hill is thought to possess a mood that
reflects the state of being of that place. Destroying, altering, or removing a portion
of the plants was thought to change the mood of that place (Johnston, 1976). These
traditions point to an Ojibwa land ethic, but low population density alone prevented
land use that significantly altered the landscape.17
The first recorded European exploration of Lake Superior occurred in the early
17th century. In approximately 1620, Etienne Brulé, a Frenchman employed by
Samuel de Champlain as an interpreter, was probably the first European to see the
ancient copper mines in the Lake Superior region. By 1658 a reasonably accurate
map of Lake Superior opened the door for the arrival of French missionaries and fur
traders (Nute, 1944).
Commercial development evolved slowly over the next century and a half. The
first decked sailing ship sailed Lake Superior in 1735, and the first commercial
schooner in 1778. By the early 1800s, word of massive copper and timber reserves
had reached the nation’s capital at Washington, D.C., and the eastern industrialists
in Boston and New York (Nute, 1944). Henry Rowe Schoolcraft, the mineralogist
and “Indian” expert who accompanied Michigan’s territorial governor, Cass, on a
geological survey of the region in 1820, kept a journal that reveals a common
Euro-American attitude toward the Keweenaw forest:
Walck, Strong / LEOPOLD’S LAND ETHIC 273
One cannot help fancying that he has gone to the ends of the earth, and beyond the
boundaries appointed for the residence of man. Every object tells us that it is a
region alike unfavorable to the productiveness of the animal and vegetable king-
dom; and we shudder in casting our eyes over the frightful wreck of trees. . . . Such
is this frightful region through which . . . we followed our Indian guides . . . in
which there is nothing to compensate the toil of the journey but its geological char-
acter and mineral production. (cited in Lankton, 1997, pp. 7-8)
Instead of beauty, Schoolcraft saw a “frightful wreck” with no value but for the
copper under the forest floor. The Keweenaw was dense forest from end to end at
the time of Schoolcraft’s survey (Lankton, 1997). A small remnant remains in a
local nature preserve, the closest approximation of the presettlement forest,
although this preserve has been affected by logging and mining operations along its
perimeter.
Assessment of the presettlement period. Prior to 1840, the Keweenaw forest was
a healthy forest, little changed by the subsistence land use of sparsely settled
Ojibwa. The tribal organization of the Ojibwa, along with the harsh living condi-
tions, made community orientation and cooperation a necessity of life. Ojibwa cul-
ture suggests a positive aesthetic for the Keweenaw forest with a great sense of
responsibility and even reverential respect for the land and its inhabitants. Because
there were no organized markets beyond native trade networks, no concept of prop-
erty rights, and limited codification of conduct (beyond tribal custom), power was
shared within the local community. Land use was based on subsistence, with some
minor consumption for symbolic purposes. Land health was therefore good, char-
acterized by stable ecosystems and natural beauty. Although land was
nonproductive from a modern economic standpoint, the land was productive for its
inhabitants. The strong land ethic and localized power relations of the Ojibwa stand
in contrast to those of Euro-American explorers, whose journals suggest a primary
interest in land use centered on the exploitation of mineral resources, with no evi-
dence of an accompanying land ethic. The journals of these early explorers were
predictors of the attitudes that would come with Euro-American settlement.
Schoolcraft’s early reports of rich surface copper deposits led to many early
attempts to establish copper mining operations. In 1822, Congress proposed to
work the ancient copper mines of Lake Superior. Although the proposition did not
win congressional support, it created momentum for greater examination of the
Schoolcraft and Cass expedition reports. Poor infrastructure, harsh winters, and
labor shortages caused most of the early small-scale mining operations to fail. In
the late 1830s and early 1840s, Douglass Houghton began well-organized commer-
cial surveys of copper deposits. His report of vast, almost pure copper deposits
along the ridge of the Keweenaw Peninsula, where it could be accessed by Lake
Superior shipping, fueled the first copper rush in 1843. The copper was of a purity
not found anywhere else in the world at that time and was deposited relatively close
to the surface, although in a narrow vein up the spine of the peninsula (Krause,
1992; Nute, 1944).
By the mid-19th century, the combination of more developed mining and trans-
portation technologies along with the influx of cheap labor from European immi-
gration made large-scale mining operations economically feasible. Investors from
274 ORGANIZATION & ENVIRONMENT / September 2001
the eastern United States funded large-scale copper mining that was organized
around company towns. Copper mines were active in the Keweenaw from the
mid-1840s until the late 1960s, although the boom era ended shortly after World
War I. At the turn of the century, 20,000 people were employed in the mines in
Houghton County, site of the Quincy Mine above the Portage waterway, and the
operations of the mining companies supported a population of 100,000 people in
the Keweenaw (Merk, 1982). Copper mined during the boom in the Keweenaw
generated between 80% and 90% of annual U.S. production of copper. Peak pro-
duction of copper was reached in 1916, when 270 million pounds of copper were
shipped from Keweenaw locations (Krause, 1992). However, by 1920, employ-
ment and population were already in decline because of reduced demand for copper
at the close of World War I (Murdoch, 1943; Nute, 1944).
Although the Keweenaw was covered in dense forest at the start of the copper
boom, mining operations soon devastated the forest in the regions immediately sur-
rounding the mines. This is evident in Figure 3, a photograph taken in 1898 of
Quincy Hill, site of one of the most heavily mined areas in the Keweenaw. The Por-
tage waterway is in the foreground, and mineshafts are visible in the upper right.
Most of the hardwoods and larger conifers described in original surveyors’ notes
have been logged off. A few small conifers remain, scattered about the hill and
along the waterfront.
The photograph in Figure 4 of Quincy Hill was taken 22 years later, shortly after
the end of World War I, further east along the Portage. Figure 5’s photograph, taken
about the same time, is a view from the top of Quincy Hill, looking down to the
waterfront. Virtually no trees survive. It should be noted that copper mining took
place underground—the devastation is not due to surface mining.
As Alexis De Tocqueville noted in 1831, Americans did not dwell on the won-
ders of nature—they did not see the marvelous forest until it had been cut down
(Murdoch, 1943). Forests burdened the worker and were viewed as an obstacle to
be removed to uncover the copper beneath the forest floor. Dense forests slowed
infrastructure development, and several miners and surveyors became hopelessly
lost while searching out new mine or rail bed locations. Forests were cleared of
human necessity, but the by-products of this clearing were used as lumber in mining
towns to house the immigrant miners as well as in the construction of railroad cars,
railroad ties, and bridging and rafters in the mine shafts and as a source of energy.
The forest was thus a cheap, locally available material to support mining opera-
tions. The mines required 2,600,000 board feet of pine and hemlock plus an addi-
tional 13,000 railroad ties above ground. An additional 18,000,000 board feet of
timber were used annually underground at the Calumet and Hecla mine (Nute,
1944).
The Great Depression hit the Keweenaw particularly hard. By 1930, mining
employment in Houghton County had dropped to less than 2,000, whereas the
regional population dropped to less than 70,000.18 By the start of World War II, few
mines remained active, and population fell further to 47,600 people (Murdoch,
1943). Some mines reopened to fulfill copper orders created by war demand, but the
copper boom was over, and most mines closed in the 1950s, unable to compete with
copper mined more cheaply elsewhere in the world. The last active mine in
Houghton County closed in the late 1960s, and the last copper mine in the region
closed in the early 1990s.
The mining companies did not truly inhabit the Keweenaw. They moved on
when the economic value of the copper fell, and the boomtowns of the early 20th
century dwindled as miners too moved on in search of employment. They left
Walck, Strong / LEOPOLD’S LAND ETHIC 275
FIGURE 3: Bird’s Eye View of Quincy Hill and Hancock, Michigan, Circa 1898
Source: Courtesy of Michigan Technological University Archives and Copper Country Historical Col-
lections, Michigan Technological University.
behind decimated forests, huge piles of mine rock left over from shaft blasts, and
acres of black sand stamped of its copper.
Assessment of the copper boom period. Mining destroyed forest health in the
vicinity of the mines, which covered a large area up the spine of the Keweenaw.
Reduction of habitat devastated many species, creating a forest ecosystem of low
integrity and declining stability. Although the land was productive from an eco-
nomic standpoint, the productivity was centered on a single resource sold to distant
276 ORGANIZATION & ENVIRONMENT / September 2001
Away from the mines, the forest remained virtually untouched during the early
part of the mining boom. As late as 1917, diaries of high school students contain
stories learned from their mothers and fathers of vast forests in the Keweenaw when
the parents were young (Lankton, 1997). However, as the pine forests of New Eng-
land and the Lower Peninsula of Michigan were cut over by the mid-1800s, the vast
timber reserves of Michigan’s Upper Peninsula, including the Keweenaw,
increased in value.
The prevailing wisdom of the era was that railroads and lumber companies, as
benefactors of the country, should be given unlimited land and be allowed to charge
what markets would bear. Anything that stood in the way of profits was treason
(Reimann, 1981). Between the late 1870s and mid-1900s, timber was harvested for
Walck, Strong / LEOPOLD’S LAND ETHIC 277
lumber for the fast-growing cities of the Midwest and the new paper mills along the
Great Lakes. With average yields of 4 million board feet per square mile of forest,
early timber barons thought the white pine of the Upper Peninsula was inexhaust-
ible (Reimann, 1981). In fact, one of the early lumber traders stated that it would
take centuries to exhaust the pine supply. During this era, there was also a great faith
that providence would provide resources as required, and the purpose of the frontier
was to provide a natural abundance to be exploited for the advancement of civiliza-
tion (Cronon, 1991).
No place in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan is very far from a big river or lake,
and this proved to be a critical factor in the rapid exploitation of timber reserves.
Much of the timber was floated to mills and then shipped via waterway to Chicago,
which was the center of the lumber trade. River jams caused by saw logs were com-
mon, with many accumulating more than 100 million board feet of lumber at the
jam; the largest recorded jam exceeded 500 million board feet (Cronon, 1991). To
put this in perspective, 500 million board feet represents almost 85,000 logs, each
of them 2 feet in diameter and 16 feet long.
Pine, cedar, hemlock, spruce, and balsam fir were all felled, but white and red
pine were in huge, rapidly growing demand by builders and railroads. More than
250,000 white pines were felled in a single year at peak production. The Chicago
Lumber Exchange shipped 220 million board feet of lumber in 1860, 580 million
board feet in 1870, and more than 1 billion board feet in 1880. Already by the late
1880s, supply problems were starting to appear, especially in terms of lumber qual-
ity and tree diameters. Compounding this problem, trees felled in later years were
further from the rivers and lakes used to transport them, increasing costs. Timber
company bankruptcies started to increase in the mid-1890s, and by the late 1890s,
the boom was clearly over and the pine supply had been decimated. Michigan white
pines were the first to run out, and by the turn of the century, the countryside was
largely treeless where magnificent pine forests had stood 40 years earlier (Cronon,
1991).
In addition to pine harvests, pulp and paper companies required large stocks of
aspen and other pulpwood. With no thought for the land and its future, the forest
was stripped bare. Even railroad companies clear cut19 their rights of way for the
timber value. Huge tracts of white and red pine, along with thousands of acres of
hardwood forest, were clear cut between 1850 and 1900, and slash fires burned hot
in the tree tops and on the ground, where small limbs, pine needles, and leaves
remained from clear cutting.
When the timber was gone, land companies and speculators moved on just as the
copper mining companies had, leaving towns abandoned and indebted. Even while
they were operating in the region, timber barons, like company towns, were not
always good neighbors. One timber baron spent much of his time warding off appli-
cants for gifts for various charities (Reimann, 1981).
Assessment of the pine timber era. Clear cutting huge tracts of pine forest clearly
reduced forest health by degrading the stability and integrity of the ecosystem over
large areas of the Keweenaw. Clear cuts are certainly not beautiful. The land was
economically productive, but that productivity was based largely on a single
resource and did not account for the value of other land resources. Like the copper
mining companies, the timber barons were interested in economic land use, extract-
ing trees instead of copper, but not in a sustainable way. It was falsely assumed that
the land and its resources were inexhaustible. Again, like the copper mining compa-
nies, the timber barons did not have a long-term commitment to the communities in
278 ORGANIZATION & ENVIRONMENT / September 2001
which they operated. Once the resource was gone, so were the companies. Power
was in the hands of outside corporate interests who were given free reign to exploit
the land. Large tracts of property were held by timber barons who made decisions
based on market conditions, reinforced by a government philosophy that elevated
property rights and avoided market regulation. This made communities dependent
on timber barons who were not inclined to cooperate and did not recognize a
responsibility for the land.
The clear cutting and fires, as devastating as they were to the original forest,
cleared the way for a new cycle of forest growth or succession. Most of the species
native to the Keweenaw have very wide habitat tolerances and are adapted to distur-
bances such as fire, wind, flood, and ice. Unlike natural disturbances, however,
human disturbances are often more severe and wide ranging. The type of human
disturbances common in the Keweenaw favored species such as maple and birch,
which have small, wind-dispersed seeds and tolerance to disturbances created by
logging. Forest fire suppression (putting out fires quickly once they start) and
abatement (removing fuel and clearing lines and breaks before a fire starts) are also
forms of human disturbance, which favor northern hardwood succession as
opposed to pine and oak (Barnes & Wagner, 1981). Although the human distur-
bances of the past century removed most of the large pine from the Keweenaw, they
have created an ideal habitat for today’s hardwood forest.
Much of the early logging and timber operations bypassed the hardwoods in the
Keweenaw, favoring the softwood pine and pulpwood species. Prior to widespread
development of rail lines in the Upper Peninsula in approximately 1890, all timber
was floated to mills. Because maple (and many other hardwoods) does not float,
they were not candidates for logging. In 1900, there were an estimated 7,000,000
acres of hardwood stands across the Lake Superior region (Reimann, 1981). How-
ever, as the pine ran out and railroad access improved, the timber industry and the
mining companies turned more and more to hardwoods for lumber. By the end of
the copper boom, hardwood forest reserves had shrunk to 140,000 acres (Nute,
1944). With the demise of mining and intensive logging in the early part of the
1900s, hardwood forest reserves rebounded to their present level of almost 5 mil-
lion acres, which represents the largest reserves in the Midwest (Gagnon, 1996).
From 1980 to 1993, timber reserves increased by about 3%. Sugar maples and yel-
low birch make up more than 50% of the stands in the Keweenaw and have
remained relatively stable, whereas pine stands have almost doubled and aspen has
declined by 20% (North Central Research Station, 1999).
The reforestation of maples is a natural process, aided by the production of
nearly 1 million seedlings per acre each year, scattered by wind and taking shallow
root in the humus of decaying leaves. Yet only about 100 of these seedlings will sur-
vive, growing slowly for up to 300 years. After 30 years, a sugar maple in the north-
ern hardwood forest will stand less than 3 feet tall. At maturity, they will tower more
than 100 feet, with a broad canopy shading the forest beneath them. Maples need
clean air and infrequent fires to thrive, which are conditions that are prevalent in the
Keweenaw (Gagnon, 1996).
Evidence of this natural reforestation process is visible in Figures 6 and 7. These
photographs are views of Quincy Hill today in the same locations as in Figures 3
and 4, which were taken more than 80 years ago. Mixed hardwoods with some coni-
Walck, Strong / LEOPOLD’S LAND ETHIC 279
FIGURE 7: View of Quincy Hill and Hancock, Michigan, July 19, 2000
fer stands show a forest returned, albeit different from its earlier state. Sugar
maples, birch, hemlock, balsam fir, and aspen now dominate the region.
Maples grown in the Keweenaw are one of the most sought-after hardwoods in
North America because of the clear, almost white wood they produce and the small
diameter heartwood, which makes them ideal for veneer logs. Keweenaw maple is
280 ORGANIZATION & ENVIRONMENT / September 2001
shipped all over the world for use in furniture and flooring, and the type of Birdseye
maple typically found in the Keweenaw is highly sought after (Gagnon, 1996).
Maple from the Keweenaw continues to increase in value. In the mid-1990s, it
sold for as much as $2,000 per 1,000 board feet (Gagnon, 1996). Today, maple
veneer logs garner $6,000 per 1,000 board feet, and good-quality maple saw logs
get $4,000 to $5,000. By contrast, saw bolts of other regional tree species are only
worth $200 per 1,000 board feet, and low-grade pulp stock sells for a mere $30 per
1,000 board feet. Birdseye maple is the most highly valued of all maples, bringing
between $5,000 and $50,000 per 1,000 board feet or as much as $25,000 per tree
(Schwandt, 1999). Lake Superior Land Company estimates 60% of its production
is pulpwood and that only 1% to 2% currently is select prime maple 18 inches in
diameter (Schwandt, 1999). The average yield per acre in the northern hardwood
forests is 1,000 board feet of maple plus three to four cords of pulpwood. Each
1,000 board feet represents 15 logs of 12-inch diameter, approximately 12 feet in
length. In professionally managed forests, only about five to eight maples per acre
are felled each year, along with four to six companion species for use as pulpwood
(Gagnon, 1996).
Northern Hardwoods (a division of the Rossi Company) is the largest commer-
cial hardwood forest products company in the region, processing 21 million board
feet of maple each year in the Keweenaw. This is comparable to the 18 million
board feet annually consumed by the mines during the copper boom. The difference
is that the large commercial forest products companies in the region spread their
cuts over much larger tracts of land than the mining companies did, and they use
selective cuts to professionally manage the forests for long-term sustainable use.
Because of the great economic value of the Keweenaw maples, there is pressure
to overcut. Whereas professional foresters and some commercial forest products
companies take a long-term perspective of proper forest management with the goal
of increasing their harvest of high-grade saw logs compared to pulpwood, many
small landowners succumb to short-term economic pressures. Many foresters will
double mark the trees selected for cut (one mark on the trunk, the other mark on the
ground) to prevent overcutting by contract loggers. Although some commercial
forest products companies have created logger incentive programs to reduce
overcutting, abuses still occur. Clear cutting that results in same-age stands (all sap-
lings, all seedlings, etc.) causes a sudden disruption to forest progression. It can
take 50 years or more for a maple forest to begin to regenerate after a clear cut, even
if it is professionally managed (Gagnon, 1996). Maple clear cuts can quickly
become aspen stands (if there is some aspen already present), because aspen is a
pioneer species that grows rapidly in open tracts.
In addition to the regeneration of trees, another measure of forest health is the
presence of a complex animal community. Hardwood forests support substantially
more species than a plantation pine forest.20 After a long absence from the
Keweenaw, the gray wolf, the apex predator of the northern forests, returned in the
1990s. The return of the gray wolf is a clear sign of the return of a good forest.
Improved forest health can be attributed to several factors, including changing
human attitudes, higher standards of living in the region, decreasing rural presence
and lower population densities (because of the decline of outlying mining commu-
nities), the adoption of professional forestry management techniques, and the
emergence of land champions. The degree to which each contributes to forest
health cannot be accurately determined because the factors are highly interrelated
and difficult to untangle. Certainly, the process of returning the forest to a healthy
Walck, Strong / LEOPOLD’S LAND ETHIC 281
state is slow and almost imperceptible at times, but when viewed over the course of
a 60-year interval, the change is quite dramatic.
Assessment of the hardwood forest products era. As the forest regenerates, forest
health returns, measured by both stability and integrity of plant and animal commu-
nities in the regional ecosystems. The land is very productive, with the current for-
est products industry consuming as many resources as the mining companies did.
Professional forest management, selective cutting, and governmental policies have
promoted more sustainable land use programs, along with multiple uses of the land
through the Commercial Forest Act. The beauty of the renewed forest attracts new
residents and tourists, who may someday change the balance of power in the region.
Today, large landholders representing outside corporate interests still dominate
land ownership, and some local governments continue to resist efforts to control
access and use through means such as zoning. Although government action and
community involvement in decision making on land use is increasing, significant
power still rests in the hands of external interests. Keweenaw County, at the very tip
of the peninsula, is the poorest county in the region, and good jobs are hard to find,
increasing the likelihood that a powerful landowner can sway local decision mak-
ing about land use. Market factors and property rights are still very strong determi-
nants of power in the region. The promise of outside developers to improve the
quality of lives of the local citizens holds a strong appeal to many people in the
Keweenaw. Communities are becoming more aware of the issues involved in land
management, and there is an evolving sense of cooperation between large forest
products companies and the local communities, both of whom are beginning to rec-
ognize their responsibility to the land.
Assessment of the environmental history of the Keweenaw forest. The land ethic
and power relations of each historical period and the resultant impact on land health
and land use are summarized in Table 1.
The material wealth extracted from the natural resources of the Keweenaw dur-
ing the past 150 years was purchased at the expense of geologic formations and for-
ests that took thousands of years to accumulate (Cronon, 1991). The reforestation
has only occurred in the past 50 years, and there are still scars on the land from min-
ing and timbering operations. Obviously, the forest has returned, albeit in a much
altered state, and land health has not returned to preindustrial levels. Land health is
improving, but the land is unlikely to return to its original state of health. This cre-
ates the difficult situation of reaching agreement in the community on how much
health is enough.
The environmental history of the Keweenaw forest points out some of the short-
comings of current definitions of sustainability. For example, the mining compa-
nies removed less than one third of the copper in the region, so it could be argued
that they have preserved resources for use by future generations. The hardwood for-
ests have regenerated, and the pine stands are slowly recovering. The companies
that have historically exploited the forest resources have thus met many of the tech-
nical definitions of sustainability, but they have been no friends of the forest. The
copper mining companies and early timber and forest products companies did not
manage with a land ethic as part of their operating philosophy. They competed for
resources, demonstrated little commitment to the long-term viability of the local
human or biotic community in which they operated, and saw no obligation to limit
their land use. Although current forest products companies show some evidence of
a developing land ethic, the challenge for the future will be to learn from our history
282 ORGANIZATION & ENVIRONMENT / September 2001
how to better identify and promote opportunities for land use that do not compro-
mise a land ethic and that preserve the integrity, stability, productivity, and beauty
of the Keweenaw forest.
unique local knowledge and history suggest that local autonomy will be critical to
developing a land ethic. Beck (1997) advanced a related idea when he warned that
the existing power relations of macropolitics are ill-suited to solve the problems of
sustainable use. He calls for a new order of subpolitics in which coalitions of actors
gather at social sites to take action. Frequently, the coalition will be composed of
actors who would not normally join forces.
Even though centralized governmental control is problematic, there is also a risk
associated with local community control, both with small landholders and large
corporate ownership of the land. For small landowners, asymmetric knowledge of
best forest management practices creates a climate for opportunism. For instance, if
local landowners log their parcels once every 10 years, they will be infrequent pur-
chasers of logging services. The logging companies, however, will be frequent sell-
ers of logging services. This asymmetry in market participation creates an informa-
tion imbalance that is fraught with moral hazard.
For large, commercial ownership of the land, commercial improvement of the
land often results in the loss of certain species, such as basswood and white cedar.
Because these species are not dominant in the local forest, their loss might hardly be
noticed by the casual observer or occasional visitor. However, the loss of
biodiversity and change in biological structure of the forest would have conse-
quences for forest health. Last, issues of roads and road quality affect the health of
the forest. If access to the land is to be maintained, some road policy will be needed.
Whether roads should be built or improved to increase access to remote areas of the
Keweenaw remains controversial. For all of these reasons, a well-informed local
citizenry, along with the availability of outside experts such as the Michigan
Department of Natural Resources or the Nature Conservancy (among others), will
be critical to the success of any local coalition trying to balance land access with the
economic and environmental needs of the community. The federal and state gov-
ernments also have a role to play in enforcing the balance and providing checks on
collateral damage that may be caused to other ecosystems by actions taken in the
Keweenaw. For instance, a road cut through the Keweenaw forest may shift animal
migration patterns, causing negative but unintended consequences for another eco-
system. Leopold (1949/1970) argued that ecosystem management should involve
extraregional government to prevent such damage shifting.
Beyond the economic and market implications of typical ownership tract size,
there is another barrier to community-based decision making in the Keweenaw that
must be addressed. Many of the local users of the land are migrants. There is a sub-
stantial postsecondary student population in the Keweenaw of almost 6,000 indi-
viduals. Many of them enjoy bird-watching, hiking, hunting, fishing, camping,
canoeing, and so forth in the local forest. In addition, there are a large number of
tourists who visit the Keweenaw each year to fish, camp, hike, snowmobile, ski, and
hunt on local lands. Last, the number of second homes serving part-time residents is
growing rapidly. Migrant land users have little interest in the economic develop-
ment of the local community, are vocal about maintaining land access, and are
unavailable for ongoing community dialogue and decision making.
For many years, there was little interest in the Keweenaw in developing a com-
prehensive regional land use plan that incorporates economic development. This
exposes land health in the region to adverse risk. Frustration over the lack of spe-
cific land use guidelines can cause entrepreneurial, creative, innovative individuals
to leave the area. The result of an out-migration of innovative leaders can be that
less competent, more conservative guardians of the status quo will take leadership
positions in community decision making (Lentz, 1988). The withdrawal from the
Walck, Strong / LEOPOLD’S LAND ETHIC 285
CONCLUSION
Leopold’s (1949/1970) insights into the relationship between land use and land
health, the impact of power relations on land use, and the potential impact of an eth-
ics of land use—a land ethic—provide a useful framework for thinking about the
dynamics of land use over time. This framework also informs our ideas about
sustainability and the role that human collectivities, including organizations, have
played in degrading land and can play in restoring land health. We hope that the case
of the Keweenaw will encourage organizational scholars interested in
sustainability to enlarge their notion of sustainability to include the whole biotic
community that organizations inhabit, to think clearly about the power that organi-
zations wield, and to consider seriously the role of a land ethic for organizations.
Although our case study focuses specifically on forest land and forest resources, we
encourage others in different landscapes, with different human uses and organiza-
tions, to read their own environmental histories and discover the relationships
between people and place. The more we learn about the environmental histories of
specific places, the sooner we can develop a grounded global vision of
sustainability for the future in which Leopold’s vision of integrity, stability, produc-
tivity, and beauty are realized. The Keweenaw forest may never be the preindustrial,
ancient forest of our heart’s desire, but it can be a healthy one for future generations
to enjoy.
NOTES
1. Succession models and the permanence of climax species are the subject of debate
among forest ecologists. For the purpose of our study, we refer to the ecological theories that
suggest plant communities develop in some form of succession process. Succession involves
gradual, continuous replacement of one plant species by another until the community
reaches a self-maintaining and quasipermanent state called climax. The early stages of suc-
286 ORGANIZATION & ENVIRONMENT / September 2001
cession are characterized by communities with few species, and each stage of succession
increases in diversity, although some ecological communities demonstrate a decline in diver-
sity in later stages. Events that interrupt the natural succession process, such as fire or log-
ging, are called disturbances (Daniel & Sullivan, 1981).
2. Beech, however, is curiously absent in the western Upper Peninsula, including the
Keweenaw Peninsula.
3. In the academic literature, the term sustainable development predominates. The term
development implies growth, which is at the core of many disputes about the very possibility
of ecological sustainability. We will sidestep this debate about growth and development by
focusing instead on sustainable use of resources.
4. Because Leopold died before A Sand County Almanac (SCA) was published in 1949
and because subsequent editions have included additional essays, most notably “The Round
River,” and undergone editorial changes, Leopoldian experts prefer the original edition of
SCA. For this article, we cite the easily accessible 1970 paperback edition published by
Ballantine, which suffers from the changes noted above; however, we have focused on two of
the essays that constitute Part 3 (“The Upshot”) of the original SCA, namely, “Conservation
Esthetic” (CE) and “The Land Ethic” (LE). Moreover, we have carefully checked citations to
ensure that the paperback edition reflects no editorial changes from the original. Nonethe-
less, we do on occasion cite the essays “The Round River” (RR) and “Natural History” (NH)
included in the paperback edition but not the original edition; we will clearly note when we
are using these essays by using the abbreviations CE, LE, RR, and NH in the citations in the
text so that readers are clear about the source.
5. As a founder of the Wilderness Society, Aldo Leopold is most closely associated with
efforts to preserve wilderness. This is not his only contribution to the discussion of land use,
however. He also outlined the urgent need for a land ethic for private and industrial landowners.
6. The Society of American Foresters (SAF) is currently debating what kind of land
ethic the forestry profession should embrace. In 1991, its professional journal devised a land
ethic political test, which placed Leopold’s views left of center, and in 1992, the SAF voted
to modify its code of ethics to include an emphasis on land stewardship. In a recent survey
applying this test, Brown and Harris (1998) found that professional foresters tended to adopt
a multiple-use ethic, whereas natural science professionals such as wildlife ecologists
favored a Leopoldian or ecosystem management ethic. The survey also revealed that only
those SAF employees who were members of the Association of Forest Service Employees
for Environmental Ethics favored Leopoldian views. See also Zeide (1998), Zeide et al.
(1998), and Callicott (1998) for a further discussion of foresters’ views on Leopold (Brown &
Harris, 1998).
7. Here and elsewhere in this article, we limit the concept of land use to human agency
and thus separate human agency from natural agency, although obviously humans are part of
nature, not separate from it, and natural agencies such as fire can have a quick and profound
impact on the land. We are defining natural agency (and uses animals and plant make of land)
as part of the construct of land itself and human agency as distinct from land to focus on the
ways in which human agency influences land health. In Leopoldian terms, “man-made
changes are of a different order than evolutionary changes” (Leopold, 1949/1970, p. 255,
LE).
8. See Note 4, above.
9. According to Meine (1987), this is the most quoted passage from “The Land Ethic”
and is the focus of the essay.
10. Fritzell (1987) contrasted a holistic conception of the human place in nature, in which
humans are “plain member[s] and citizen[s] of the land community” irrespective of their dis-
tinctive linguistic and cultural behavior, with a dualistic conception, in which humans are
“conqueror[s] and exploiter[s] of the land community” (pp. 140-141). He argued that
Leopold wove both perspectives into his narrative, arguing in favor of holism.
11. Plant and animal communities develop modes of cooperation and interdependence,
which Leopold (1949/1970, p. 238) called symbioses. Ecological studies confirm that
plants and animals both compete and cooperate in establishing biological niches, but an
Walck, Strong / LEOPOLD’S LAND ETHIC 287
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