In the face of a warming climate and accelerating human impact in Greater Yellowstone, former Montana State Representative Dorothy Bradley writes that we have a critical responsibility
As we consider our responsibility to be stewards of nature and its wildlife, Dorothy Bradley writes that with the acceleration of climate change and human impact in Greater Yellowstone, we have a shrinking window of opportunity to do the right thing. Photo by Neal Herbert/NPS
by Dorothy Bradley
A new—and old—accusation keeps popping up these days
with some folks: “You are just one of those Montanans who wants to come to
paradise, and once you have your little piece of it, just lock the gate behind
you. How can you justify that?”
Well, quite easily, is my response. I was raised and
imbued with the doctrine of “stewardship.” Actually, it was the second
commandment in our family, right after “Honor your father and mother.” The
concept of stewardship mandated us to pass forward our spot on this planet in as
good or better condition than we received it.
That doctrine applied to all
activities whether it was packing garbage out of mountain campsites, or never
littering highways with candy wrappers. It seems hard to believe, but both were
new lessons in those days. They were among many rules we had to institute
because of the increasing use of the land.
Today, every time I see green algae in the Gallatin
River, high mountain trails trenched beyond walkability, or plastic dog poop
bags stacked up on the walls of public latrines, I know our generation is
falling short. Our habits and rules have not kept up with human numbers,
increasing demands and more impactful toys for recreation. Most serious, we
have failed to imbue any sense of accountability for the wreckage we are
leaving in our wake. When discussing the fragility of the grizzly population,
one person was overheard saying, “Well, I sure hope I get mine before they are
all gone.”
I was raised and imbued with the doctrine of “stewardship,” a concept that mandated us to pass forward our spot on this planet in as good or better condition than we received it.
And now today, when we contemplate the reality of
climate change, it’s clear what’s at risk is not just our little piece of the
planet, but the planet itself. That is stretching our stewardship capacity beyond
all bounds.
In any case, it’s easy to see that our obligation to
institute some restraints and hold ourselves to high standards is not akin to
shutting and locking the gate behind us. There’s not enough of the Gallatin
Canyon or Gallatin Valley to house every desiring resident or accommodate every
recreational adventurer. The bigger question is whether there is enough to
maintain critical animal populations with sufficient space to survive and
multiply.
I was telling a cousin in Upstate New York about our
effort to provide maximum protection for maximum acreage in Greater
Yellowstone, and she exclaimed, “Oh, to just have wilderness like you do!”
We who are among the fortunate to live here must
shoulder the responsibility to protect the last of this unique ecosystem, not
just for us, but for the whole country, and for the future; and all this in the
face of climate change. I am certain we all want some of this openness and
wildness still here for our great grandchildren—for them, but as important, for
the creatures who live here and whose existence as a species is in our hands.
We are the last ones who will have this decision to make: what to protect and
what to release.
This is a weighty decision, but we still have time to think.
So long as we enforce the protections for the Wilderness Study Areas in the
Custer Gallatin National Forest, which were established by our forefathers and
mothers when they set them aside almost 50 years ago, we can take a little more
time to make these forever decisions.
When we contemplate the reality of climate change, it’s clear what’s at risk is not just our little piece of the planet, but the planet itself. That is stretching our stewardship capacity beyond all bounds.
The recent proposal of the Gallatin Forest Partnership
to divvy up the lands largely to recreational uses and release the leftovers, fails
to seriously consider the accelerating and devastating impacts of climate
change. It is critical that we assess the future of these lands through the
climate lens and grapple with the new information that is now at our fingertips
(the Greater Yellowstone Climate
Assessment). Wildlife populations are going to have to move around more
just to survive, and confining them to ever-smaller islands is the beginning of
their end.
We are all deeply grateful that past generations left
us extraordinary, protected areas right here in our homeland: Yellowstone
National Park, the Lee Metcalf Wilderness, the free-flowing Yellowstone River.
Those beautiful gifts came with their greatest dedication and unrelenting work.
It’s not just their gifts which we must embrace, but also their work ethic, as
we try to do justice to the final, final decisions they entrusted in our
hands.
About Dorothy Bradley
Dorothy Bradley, who makes her home today in Clyde Park, Montana in the northern reaches of the Greater Yellowstone Ecosystem, is a former eight-term Montana state representative. Bradley ran for governor in 1992 and narrowly lost to Republican Marc Racicot. At age 23, she helped organize Montana’s first Earth Day and won a seat in the Montana House where she was the only woman in 1971. She was among the young people present during Montana's constitutional convention in 1972 who helped produce a modern constitution touted as being among the most foresighted in the country. Among its provisions is that all citizens have "the right to a clean and healthful environment." Bradley also was at the forefront of women's rights, conservation and pondering water policy, which is especially important now in a time of climate change.
