Perceptions of landscape change in a rural British Columbia community

Available online at www.sciencedirect.com

Landscape and Urban Planning 85 (2008) 49–59

Perceptions of landscape change in a rural British Columbia community John L. Lewis ∗ School of Planning, Faculty of Environmental Studies, University of Waterloo, 200 University Avenue West, Waterloo, Ontario, Canada N2L 3G1 Received 14 February 2007; received in revised form 23 July 2007; accepted 16 September 2007 Available online 5 November 2007

Abstract As forest dependent communities throughout British Columbia transit from traditional timber dependence to alternative and sometimes less extractive uses of the forest, the challenge for landscape managers is to plan change that respects the attachments that local stakeholders have for their landscape. Examining local preferences and developing a fuller understanding of the dimensions or factors that local stakeholders use to inform their assessment of landscape change is an essential part of developing future landscape management frameworks that have broad local support. The following paper presents research conducted in the upper Skeena Valley of Northwest British Columbia, where local aboriginal and non-aboriginal community members were asked to describe the factors that affected their evaluations of alternative landscape management scenarios. In addition to engaging in a complex assessment of alternative consequences, participants provided lengthy commentaries on the cultural appropriateness of particular landscape conditions, and conceptions of landscape care or ‘visible stewardship’. © 2007 Elsevier B.V. All rights reserved. Keywords: Landscape change; Perceptions; British Columbia

1. Introduction A significant challenge for landscape managers is designing change that delivers commercially marketable products while sustaining local livelihoods and maintaining the quality of experience for a wide range of users. A key feature of the current policy environment in British Columbia is its increasing complexity regarding decisions about the forest. In the past, relatively few interests commanded attention in decisions about forest management. Today a host of interests and perspectives demand access and consideration in decision-making. For instance, in British Columbia’s upper Skeena Valley (i.e. the study area for this research, Fig. 1), Crown forests have contributed to the traditional and material way-of-life of the indigenous Gitksan community (pronounced git-san), and provided employment, recreation and solitude for contemporary First Nations and EuroCanadian residents alike. As such, the effects of forest management decisions can be felt by broad segments of a community. Recent research provides some insight into how differing groups perceive landscape change, and the potential meaning and human consequences of that change (Lewis and Sheppard,

∗

Tel.: +1 519 888 4567x33185; fax: +1 519 725 2827. E-mail address: [email protected].

0169-2046/$ – see front matter © 2007 Elsevier B.V. All rights reserved. doi:10.1016/j.landurbplan.2007.09.011

2005; Satterfield, 2002). Landscape alterations that landscape ecologists or professional land managers may consider a basic and necessary land management practice may be seen as a challenge to a community’s customary use of the landscape. On the other hand, what landscape professionals may characterize as unacceptable landscape alterations, such as the purposeful burning of shrub vegetation, may be defined by local residents as acceptable forms of land husbandry that are rooted in traditional subsistence or other material requirements. Thus, when resource managers and related landscape professionals attempt to balance differing conceptions of acceptable landscape change they need to know how to respond in a manner that respects landscape attachments of local stakeholders. Examining local conceptions of acceptable change and developing a fuller understanding of the dimensions or factors that local stakeholders use to form their assessment of landscape conditions is an essential part of developing landscape management alternatives that can gain broad local support. One approach to this requirement can be stated through the following research question: What are the dimensions that local stakeholders consider in acceptability evaluations of modified forest landscapes? To develop a fuller understanding of these dimensions, the relevant literature was reviewed and residents of the upper Skeena Valley were interviewed to explain what landscape change means to them. The broader focus of this research is

50

J.L. Lewis / Landscape and Urban Planning 85 (2008) 49–59

Fig. 2. Upper Skeena communities and landscape setting (image courtesy of Google Earth).

Fig. 1. The Upper Skeena watershed, British Columbia (map prepared by the author using ArcGIS rel. 9).

not new. Prior studies have investigated stakeholder conceptions of acceptable landscape change (Kruger, 2005; Shindler et al., 2002; Stankey, 1996), particularly within forest dependent rural communities. In addition to documenting conceptions of acceptable landscape change among a sample of aboriginal as well as non-aboriginal participants, the following study differs in one other key respect. In rural settings, where there has been an historical dependence on the timber economy, studies often (and for obvious reasons) focus on harvest patterns and silvicultural treatments as the main drivers of landscape change (Clark et al., 1999; Clausen and Schroeder, 2004). However, timber management has not historically been the only factor influencing landscape change in British Columbia’s northwest and, as the timber economy in this region of the province declines, it is unlikely to be the sole driver of landscape change into the future. Developing a fuller understanding of how local stakeholders’ react to diverse patterns of landscape change is essential as the economic evolution of many Northwest BC communities moves from near exclusive timber dependence to a more diverse spectrum of forest-based land-uses. Choices of landscape patterns or combinations of patterns, and how local stakeholders perceive them, are important for landscape managers working in a socially diverse and rapidly evolving economic context. 2. Research setting and landscape history Situated below the Alaska panhandle, the landscapes of the upper Skeena Valley are exceptionally diverse (Fig. 2). The environment through which much of the Skeena River passes is

very mountainous, and only in the immediate vicinity of the river is there any level land. Mountain slopes and valley floors are heavily timbered, and only on the central plateau of the Skeena’s eastern tributaries (i.e. the Kispiox and Bulkley rivers) near Hazelton is there any open grazing country. Both historic First Nations and more recent Euro-Canadian settlements have concentrated along the southern extent of the river at or near major river confluences. Stretching from Kitwanga in the west to Hazelton in the east, the upper Skeena Valley lowlands are the site of small-scale agriculture (mostly grazing and hay production); vast deciduous forests of cottonwood, poplar and aspen; and village and town settlements. This is the heart of the Gitksan territories, as well as the confluence of the Skeena and Bulkley rivers. These natural endowments provide access to BC’s coast and interior by way of two major river corridors and a relatively mild climate has made this part of the Northwest a natural choice for habitation, as well as a vital nexus for trade among coastal and interior First Nations peoples. By most accounts, human induced landscape change in the Pacific Northwest is a relatively recent occurrence as, it is believed, the indigenous inhabitants did not improve, cultivate or enhance the productivity of their landscape prior to European contact (Benedict, 1934; Flanagan, 2000). There is, however, a growing body of evidence suggesting that the precontact people of the region did in fact engage in some form of landscape modification. Despite its poor (but growing) representation in the historical ecology literature, there is clear evidence among much of the coast and interior of British Columbia (Gottesfeld-Johnson, 1994; Turner, 1999); Alberta (Lewis, 1988); Washington, Oregon and California (Agee, 1993; Lewis, 1973) for the indigenous cultivation of Black Huckleberry (Vaccinium membranaceum), Low-bush Blueberry (Vaccinium caespitosum), Thimbleberry (Rubus parviflorus), Soap Berry (Sheperdia canadensis) and other ‘ethnobotanical’ food plants through the controlled but large scale use of fire. In effect, though the forest environments of the Northwest are host to a rich variety of plant and wildlife resources, their availability varies considerably both seasonally as well as geographically. Thus, to overcome naturally occurring resource and nutritional deficits, the pre-contact First Nations in the Northwest modified

J.L. Lewis / Landscape and Urban Planning 85 (2008) 49–59

existing plant communities to provide nearby villages with staple foods that would otherwise have been dispersed too widely to permit surplus accumulation. This fire-based ‘cultivation’ is still somewhat debated (Baker, 2000; Lepofsky et al., 2003). However, there seems to be a growing consensus among fire ecologists and ethnoeologists that, prior to European settlement, regular burning did maintain or expand shrub and grassland ecosystems (Agee, 1993; Anderson, 1993; Bonnicksen, 2000; Boyd, 1999; Lewis, 1973; Lewis and Ferguson, 1999; Johnson, 1999; Peacock and Turner, 2000). The difficulty lies in finding absolute evidence because many of these fires were frequent, low severity fires that do not leave the same signatures as less frequent, more intense fires (Agee, 1993). Moreover, throughout the 19th and 20th centuries, visible evidence of First Nations plant cultivation gradually waned as population pressures from European diseases, introduced agricultural crops (i.e. potatoes), and fire prohibitions in the 1940s by the BC Forest Service put a stop to most traditional landscape burning practices (Parminter, 1995; Fig. 3). Timber management did not replace indigenous plant cultivation and natural fire disturbance as the dominant sources of landscape change until the 1970s as the demand for wood products from the Pacific Northwest exploded due in large part to the post-war baby boom, the associated housing boom, sustained economic growth, a westward shift in the national population, and the expansion of transportation networks. Combined with the entry of Japan onto the world stage as a major economic engine and consumer of North American raw materials, the demand for wood products from the more remote corners of British Columbia began to mount, and regions such as the Skeena Valley became commercially viable. Ultimately, to satisfy this rising demand, forestry officials in British Columbia’s

Fig. 3. A photograph of the village of Kispiox taken in 1948, showing the western side of a portion of Skeena range. From interviews conducted by the author in 2005, Gitksan elders identified the lightly colored areas (circled) as two berry patches maintained by their parents and grandparents using controlled burns. The size, elevation and western aspect is typical of many Black Huckleberry patches within the Gitksan territories. Regrowth of the forest canopy over the last six decades has rendered these patches indistinguishable from the surrounding forest matrix (image courtesy of the BC Archives, Photo #I-21896).

51

Fig. 4. The visible remains of a clearcut from the region’s period of intensive timber management in the 1970s and 80s (photo by the author).

Northwest shifted timber management policy from the more conservative selective harvesting methods that were prevalent during the inter-war and immediate post-war periods, to a more aggressive and “efficient” approach based on clearcutting (Weetman et al., 1990). The legacy of this management philosophy has produced large and often highly visible clearcut areas on mountainsides, lakeshores and roadsides (Fig. 4). In consequence, forest management has been among the most visible and hotly debated issues in the Northwest during the past two decades. The rapid liquidation of old growth forests in the region led to locally and internationally driven preservation movements that resulted in significant logging reductions on provincially regulated Crown lands. Perhaps the most significant contribution to the decline of the forest sector in the Northwest is that, in the 1970s and 80s, regional foresters set up plans knowing that harvests would drop precipitously as the Skeena’s stocks of merchantable timber could not keep pace with demands set by the province’s annual allowable cut, leading to probable mill closures in the late 1990s (Anonymous BC Ministry of Forests Informant, personal communication). Unfortunately, this is what happened. Harvests collapsed at the end of the 1990s, not decisively because of environmentalists or beetle infestations, but because planners set it up that way, perhaps assuming that it was a reasonable price to pay for getting the forests regulated as fast as possible. Although timber management will not completely disappear from the upper Skeena, change is likely to be a continuing part of the region’s landscapes through the advent of a different economic sector, one that does not extract resources in the conventional sense. This new sector in the Northwest’s economy finds aesthetic, marketable values in the lofty mountains, majestic views, and sprawling ‘pristine’ forests that have become valuable both to exurban immigrants and roving tourists alike (Chipeniuk, 2004). The same landscapes that were once regarded as difficult to conquer are now valued for hiking, skiing, camping, hunting and fishing, or simply living “close to nature” (Chipeniuk, 2004). The influx of new residents and visitors to the region come with expectations that impact the landscape. At a general level, the expectations of tourists and newcomers alike are for landscapes that are perceived as ‘natural’ or unmodified by the kinds of land-uses that were characteristic of the Northwest’s history. Such expectations have pitted recent immigrants against long-time residents (First Nations and Euro-Canadian alike) who characterize natural settings as ‘unproductive’ to

52

J.L. Lewis / Landscape and Urban Planning 85 (2008) 49–59

the extent that they fail to provide the kinds of material benefits that have historically sustained Northwest communities. Ultimately, the landscape transformations that are occurring in the Skeena Valley are causing many to worry about a new host of impacts and conflicts—i.e. loss of livelihood, overcrowding, habitat reduction, incompatible land-uses, etc. 3. Methods A case study approach (Miles and Huberman, 1994; de Vaus, 2001) was used to examine perceptions of acceptable landscape change within the physical and social context of the upper Skeena valley. Qualitative interview data were collected primarily because it would allow for an open and unbiased exploration of the participants’ responses to the interview question – What are the dimensions that local stakeholders consider in acceptability evaluations of modified forest landscapes – largely unconstrained by the researcher’s own preconceptions. In general, qualitative data collection methods are often used to provide ‘rich’ or detailed descriptions of concepts or ideas that are relevant to the research participants and, therefore, grounded in the data that is collected from them and other sources (Geertz, 1973). The sampling strategy used to identify suitable research participants can best be described as purposive (Henderson, 1991; Johnson, 1990). Commonly used in qualitative research, purposive sampling is based on the notion that in order to gain the most insight into a particular phenomenon, a sample needs to be selected that can provide the most relevant and insightful information. Ultimately, criteria were needed that would make the participant selection process focused, appropriate, systematic and logistically manageable. Criteria for the selection of participants were of two general types. The first of these (Criteria 1), refer to the innate abilities or characteristics of the participants. In essence, participants were sought who, in the estimation of key informants, have a demonstrated willingness to co-operate with researchers and possess good communication abilities. Implicit in both factors was the desire to select participants who would be at ease with the research experience, who would be comfortable in articulating their perceptions of the world, and would do so in a manner that honestly reflects their ideas and beliefs. Encompassed within Criteria 1 are Spradley’s (1979) conceptions of a good participant who not only knows their culture well, but also is willing to communicate about his or her world. In terms of Criteria 2, key informants were asked to recommend participants with a recognized interest in forest management. In effect, people were sought who are known by members of their community to be concerned about the current and future condition of the region’s forests, and who may play an active role in expressing their concerns through formal channels (e.g. public meetings, citizen committees, newspapers, etc.), as well as informal channels of communication (e.g. coffee klatches, social clubs, etc.). Although participants with a high level of engagement and interest in local planning issues may not be statistically representative of the larger population, it can be argued that they are potential leaders and influential

in local planning processes. They therefore, provide appropriate and illustrative data for a case study that will shed light on the dimensions of landscape preference within this and similar populations. Those participants who are most interested in a given subject matter also tend to be the most accurate and reliable in their reporting of issues and perceptions. This is consistent with the conventional wisdom in ethnographic research that ‘key’ or active people make good participants (Spradley, 1979). From an initial list of 35 participants, based on key informant and network referrals, and personal introductions, 30 people consented to participate in the research (15 First Nations and 15 Euro-Canadians, reflecting the roughly equal representation of First Nations and Euro-Canadians in the broader community). For qualitative research designs, Austin (1994) recommends a sample size of 8–10 participants per sample group when using semi-structured interviews (Miles and Huberman, 1994). According to McCracken (1988: 35), the first principle of participant selection in qualitative research is that “less is more.” In effect, it is important to work longer, and with greater care, with a few people than superficially with many of them. In addition, the sufficiency of the participant group was assessed, in part, according to Lincoln and Guba’s (1985) theoretical guideline for ending the data collection phase of the study—i.e. the appearance of regularities in the data. It was determined that, due to the repetition of information in the interviews, additional information from other community members would yield little new information of use to the research. The study involved multiple data collection methods, including: (1) review of documentary material (e.g. scientific reports, deputations to government hearings, and court transcripts); (2) attending meetings and informal discussions at community events; (3) accompanying community members into the field to visit sites affected by timber and non-timber forest products management; and (4) conducting semi-structured interviews with study participants. In addition to photography and field notes, the bulk of the data came from the recorded interviews. These primarily one-on-one, in depth interviews were guided by a list of questions, enabling researcher responses to ideas as they arose, so as to explore more fully the perspectives of each participant (Merriam, 1988). A form of photo-elicitation was employed in discussions with the upper Skeena participants (Ball and Smith, 1992; Collier and Collier, 1999; Harper, 1994). Visual materials can be useful in semi-structured interviews since they can help participants elucidate perceptions or concepts that may otherwise be difficult to articulate. They can also enhance the participant’s comfort with the interview process by shifting focus away from the participant and towards a common reference point for both researcher and participant. To elicit participant evaluations of hypothetical (i.e. non-existent) landscape change scenarios, computer generated (Visual Nature StudioTM , Release 2), photo-realistic simulations of the upper Skeena landscape were employed depicting a range of alternative landscape conditions (see Lewis, 2006 for a more detailed description). Existing-condition photography was obtained from three viewpoints identified with community members, which represented sites that are both accessible and familiar to most upper Skeena residents (Sheppard, 1989, 2001a). Four

J.L. Lewis / Landscape and Urban Planning 85 (2008) 49–59

Fig. 5. Aboriginal fire management simulations.

Fig. 6. Industrial timber management simulations.

landscape change scenarios were simulated for each viewpoint location (i.e. 12 images total, see Figs. 5–8). These represented possible future conditions in the upper Skeena’s forested landscapes, based on the reintroduction of historic management regimes and probable changes in the social and economic foundations of the region. For the scenarios that represented historical conditions, physical patterns that allowed the researcher to reproduce the past appearance of the Skeena Valley (as closely as possible) were obtained from archival photography of the Skeena landscape maintained by the provincial archives in Victoria, descriptions of the Skeena region written in the 19th and early 20th centuries by surveyors (Dawson, 1881; Poudrier, 1891, 1893) and Christian missionaries (Tomlinson, 1993), and interviews with local aboriginal and non-aboriginal elders. The assumptions on which the future appearance of the Skeena landscape was predicated were derived from landscape ecology specialists in Northwest British Columbia’s transition-zone landscapes (Haeussler et al., 1985) and local forestry officials. Pre-tests were conducted with key informants and a sample of eight Gitksan and Euro-Canadian participants to ensure the clarity and credibility of the following simulated landscape scenarios (Sheppard, 2001a): • Scenario 1 (Fig. 5), Aboriginal Fire Management: assumes the reintroduction of traditional burning practices by local First Nations for the management of ethnobotanical food products – i.e. berries, root crops, wildlife browse, etc. – based on growing demands to diversify the local economy through the management of non-timber forest products, as well as a

Fig. 7. Multi-Use Forest Management simulations.

53

54

J.L. Lewis / Landscape and Urban Planning 85 (2008) 49–59

Interviews were tape-recorded, transcribed and, together with the researchers’ field notes, subjected to a form of qualitative content analysis, based on the Constant Comparative Method (Glaser and Strauss, 1967; Goetz and LeCompte, 1984). The data were organized into a research database by iterative readings, development of a list of initial themes, and sorting comments into groups. These eventually emerged as conceptual categories or final themes used by the participants’ in their evaluations of the forest conditions. Interview transcripts were returned to the participants, and community members were invited to review interpretations of the data, as a verification review for accuracy. 4. Results Based on their appraisals of the simulated landscape conditions, the participants were able to describe at length the factors that influenced their acceptability judgments. In general, three dominant themes appeared to affect the participants’ landscape appraisals: 1. Perceived Balance of Impacts, 2. Perceptions of Cultural Disturbance, 3. Perceptions of Care or ‘Visible Stewardship’. Fig. 8. Natural condition simulations.

renewed interest by indigenous communities in the management of traditional resources. • Scenario 2 (Fig. 6), Industrial Timber Management: posits that large scale clearcutting may be reintroduced to suppress the proliferation of beetle infestations, provide incomes for local residents, as well as to control ‘decadent’ overmature stands. • Scenario 3 (Fig. 7), Multi-Use Forest Management: assumes that timber management will continue to be a part of the upper Skeena’s future, albeit at a reduced scale and with a different landscape footprint. As new residents enter the region seeking a bucolic rural lifestyle, forestry will need to compete with aesthetic interests and forest uses that are increasingly varied. The scenario depicts timber harvest openings that emulate natural disturbance patterns, and which coincide with range management, ethnobotanical products management (i.e. burning), and intensive riparian protection. • Scenario 4 (Fig. 8), Natural Condition: assumes that the region’s forestry sector will continue to decline and eventually be replaced by non-extractive, recreational land-uses. The scenario reflects a desire for visually pristine landscapes by allowing natural processes to determine dominantly the course of landscape patterns and processes. The interviews began with a general discussion of the participants’ perceptions of their environment and relationship to the forest landscape. Participants were then shown the simulations of the alternative forest conditions, in order to stimulate discussion. The interview schedule prompted discussion of important landscape features and evaluations of the alternative conditions.

4.1. Balance of impacts Consistent with the broader field of social acceptability research (Kruger, 2005; Stankey, 1996; Schindler et al., 2002), participant appraisals addressed the perceived balance of impacts associated with the different landscape conditions. In effect, the participants engaged in a complex evaluation of multiple consequences when evaluating the simulated conditions. As the comments discussed below attest, considerations of scenic quality factored into the participants’ evaluations, but they also discussed what is right for natural – i.e. erosion potential, habitat protection, etc. – and human communities – i.e. material livelihood, resource waste, public relations, etc. It was difficult to gauge whether the participants carried out a rudimentary form of multi-criterion analysis. However, the complexity of their evaluations and effort to consider multiple issues within the context of a single response is illustrated by the following interview comment: FN14: That’s what strikes me first about this picture. It’s not very cosmetic, but they’ve left the mountainsides alone. It’s all a matter of, if you’re looking at it just like fibre, fibre, fibre then that’s no good. There would be massive seepage into the creeks, and stuff like that. I’ve seen a lot of grazelands up the Kispiox Valley where’s there’s absolutely no in-stream vegetation, and the fish populations there have just been decimated. And here, what if you want to go shoot a moose, or what if you just want to walk through a nice forest? Yeah, there’s other values there besides the fibre. (Similar comments expressed by 5 other participants.) For many participants, the large-scale harvest patterns depicted by the Industrial and, to some extent, the Multi-Use

J.L. Lewis / Landscape and Urban Planning 85 (2008) 49–59

conditions reflected the management style that predominated in the region during the last 30 years and, from their perspective, failed to balance important forest attributes. In general, comments pertaining to both conditions reflected a common tension between conflicting material uses of the forest – e.g. the forest as a source of economic timber wealth, subsistence or non-timber forest products – and comments that addressed either the scenic quality of the landscape or its intrinsic importance for wildlife and aquatic habitat: EC11: . . .to me, you’ve got a larger visual impact because of the clearcuts, and then for wildlife. If you have smaller clearcuts it’s better for wildlife . . . and just for public relations too. (Similar comments expressed by 7 other participants.) While comments of this sort were anticipated for the industrial condition, participant evaluations of the Multi-Use harvest treatments were slightly more surprising. Despite the ‘naturalistic’ cutblock configurations, several participants focused on the large openings and effectively dismissed the attempt to soften the visual imprint through patch retention, smaller openings (40 ha and less), as well as irregular and feathered edges arguing, in effect, that “a clearcut’s a clearcut”: FN10: I’m a little more comfortable with this, but not much. These are still clearcuts. (Similar comments expressed by 6 other participants.) More directly, a group of First Nations and Euro-Canadian participants who depend on the forest for income from trapping, argued that clearcutting in any form – i.e. using geometric or naturalistic patterns – represents a threat to their material or subsistence livelihoods. In effect, the Industrial and Multi-Use treatments provide insufficient cover for small fur bearing animals, and the degree to which the conditions destroy habitat or render valued species vulnerable to higher levels of predation from other animals or recreational hunters, clearly affected their judgments: FN1: if that’s a trapline, and if it’s your trapline, you’d be pretty well heartbroken. Like I say, the animals don’t go in anything that’s charcoaled or if there’s nothing there to feed on. EC8: . . .if you do this, you’re asking for trouble. This isn’t going to stay anyways. It’s all just going to get washed out. We harvest and eat a lot of fish up here and this is one of the places they come up to lay their eggs. (Similar comments expressed by 6 other participants.) Addressing multiple values is an important principle in the management of Crown lands in British Columbia, and the evidence presented here reinforces the salience of balanced use to the Skeena participants. Rural communities approach landscape management with some sophistication in the breadth of issues that they consider. What this ultimately means for landscape managers is that they will need to work with local communities with more than a policy manual or guidebook approach to landscape management. Instead, landscape managers ought to come equipped with some awareness of local circumstances

55

such as the biophysical setting, prior land use history and, as the following discussion of aboriginal burn treatments attests, the cultural context in which the landscape modification is proposed. 4.2. Perceptions of cultural disturbance Participant evaluations of the burnt portions of the Multi-Use and Pre-Industrial conditions tended to elicit a broad range of opinions from comments that largely focused on material considerations, to expressions of concern or support that were rooted in competing notions of cultural identity. Comments that favored the burn treatments were generally of two types. The first emphasized the material benefits associated with the management of non-timber products, underscoring both the dietary and potential economic benefits that the community may realize from the cultivation of berries and other forest-based food products (e.g. wild mushrooms). In many cases, however, preferences for the burn conditions was qualified by reflections on the scale of the disturbances and the practical necessity of large berry patches for small communities: EC4: . . .it’s pretty positive, I think. You’re feeding people, and it’s local and it’s high quality. But boy it looks like a big burnt area. (Similar comments expressed by 8 other participants.) The second group of comments suggested that ethnicity mediates landscape appraisals, at least to the extent that the landscape condition being considered is an embodiment of cultural identity. For some of the First Nations participants, the reintroduction of berry cultivation would not only be conducive to a healthier lifestyle, but would also reinforce culturally based patterns of land-use: FN12: . . .it’s cultural and it’s cultural in that the Gitksan, and in other areas the Wetsuweten, have through the generations made use of non-timber forest resources. I think it’s important that we continue to have access to those values, to those activities, to those areas within our own traditional lands. (Similar comments expressed by 5 other participants.) In part, the reintroduction of aboriginal burning to the upper Skeena valley may serve as a marker of First Nations culture through the visible imprint that traditional land uses may leave on the landscape. On a more abstract level, activities themselves (i.e. the harvesting of traditional food plants) are capable of forging intimate bonds between settings and people who possess a distinct ethnic identity (Lewis and Sheppard, 2005). In effect, people who have historically been rooted to and derived their livelihood from the land will often characterize their relationship with the landscape in terms of “the earth is part of us” or “we are the land, and the land is us” (Lewis, 2000). These sentiments tended to be a common refrain among the First Nations participants. For other participants, considerations of ethnicity factored into their evaluations mostly to the extent that ethnobotanical products management by local First Nations would be a wasteful use of resources. Euro-Canadian participants who remain

56

J.L. Lewis / Landscape and Urban Planning 85 (2008) 49–59

actively employed in the local forest industry provided the most vocal expressions of opposition to the burn treatments. Initially, most of these participants quickly recognized the scorched coloration displayed by the simulations as an indication of some form of burning and concluded that these were clearcuts that had subsequently been broadcast burned: EC9: I think it’s an acceptable management tool. Fire has always been a natural part of forest disturbance up here anyway. (Similar comments expressed by 4 other participants.) However, these assessments changed with the knowledge that the burn patterns reflected aboriginal food plant cultivation rather than timber management. The four Euro-Canadian participants who had formerly supported the use of fire as a silvicultural tool, appeared to base their concerns on the appropriateness of aboriginal burning and, in particular, on the competence of First Nations as fire managers: EC9: I think that it’s not two hundred years ago now, that we know enough and there’s enough value in that timber that it would be stupid to burn it just to make some huckleberries. You see I take issue with the idea that anything the Indians do is just automatically good because they’re so in touch with the land because they’re Indians. (Similar comments expressed by 4 other participants.) Whether these statements are rooted in competing and questionable notions of cultural identity (i.e. they are our forests to manage and no longer belong to the ‘Indians’), or simply expressions of concern regarding the reintroduction of forest management practices that have unknown risks, are questions that were not explored in greater depth through the interviews. I am inclined to think that both factors may have contributed to this noteworthy reversal of opinion by a handful of the EuroCanadian participants. Other participants offered interesting suggestions on the potential for non-timber products management as a visible marker of active use and care for the forest landscape: EC14: Well when it’s clearcut, companies just come in, take the logs and then just disappear. At least this way, with people on the land harvesting and tending to the berry patches, people may actually start caring for these areas. (Similar comments expressed by 3 other participants.) Conventional timber management suffers from the public perception that, once the resource has been removed from the land, little (visible) interest or effort is expended into caring for the landscape to ensure that it will remain healthy and productive. As one participant described it, forestry appears to be characterized by a “make a quick dollar and just grab it and run (FN 7)” style of land management. Cultivating non-timber resources may be one means of providing a continuous stream of benefits from the landscape while the timber ‘crop’ grows, which ultimately places people on the land throughout the rotation and provides a visible human presence that reflects ongoing stewardship and care. This approach to ‘Visible Stewardship’ (Sheppard, 2001b) is discussed in more detail in the following subsection and in the concluding remarks.

4.3. Perceptions of care or visible stewardship Despite the overwhelming preference for natural landscapes, most participants expressed a pragmatism that affirmed the need for forest management largely to maintain the region’s standard of living. In effect, without returning to the conditions of the last 20–30 years, there was an unambiguous sense that forest management will remain an important part of the upper Skeena’s economic future, and that ‘pristine’ landscapes such as those depicted by the Natural scenario do not appropriately reflect the social and economic reality of the region: FN5: I would prefer this, but it’s not natural the way we live nowadays. You know. You have to create employment you have to live. (Similar comments expressed by 7 other participants.) However, recognizing the need for timber management of some form, a consistent statement made in reference to the Industrial and Multi-Use conditions was the degree to which they failed to demonstrate proper care for the forest: FN10: I think all this multiple-use stuff needs to be done with care because even the thinning where they do selective logging, because of things like mushrooms and medicinal plants, treat them with respect. (Similar comments expressed by 4 other participants.) When pressed to explain how they would recognize a carefully managed forest, some First Nations pointed to the burn treatments in the Multi-Use and Pre-Industrial condition to suggest that the smaller patchwork pattern of burning approximated the traditional practice of rotating burn treatments: FN4: When the old people did this (i.e. burn for berries) they used to burn off one area and leave the area nearby to grow and produce berries. Kind of like they do on a farm, you know, they would rotate the crop. Why can’t forestry do that? Why do they have to take everything and leave nothing behind for the other plants and animals? (Similar comments expressed by 4 other participants.) There is some evidence that aboriginal berry patches were managed according to a rotating system of applying fire to a subsection of a much larger berry producing area (Trusler, 2002). Only after a ‘sub-patch’ had reached its peak production capability would it be burned (usually, after 5–10 years of production), allowing the rhizome base beneath the soil to sprout more vigorous and productive shoots. While recently burned areas regenerate and reach a subsequent phase of peak production, adjacent areas that were burned 3–5 years earlier are fully productive and harvested for their fruit crop. In this manner, berry cultivation areas are maintained in a constant state of food production. From the perspective of both First Nations and EuroCanadian participants, emulating this pattern of traditional land management would embody ‘care’ to the extent that the disturbances are smaller than conventional timber cutblocks, the periodic burning of overmature vegetation returns nutrients to the soil and, moreover, a regular and more sustained presence

J.L. Lewis / Landscape and Urban Planning 85 (2008) 49–59

on the landscape may suggest that the forest is actively being tended: EC14: To me, it would be nice to see that these areas are being cared for. . . . At least this way, with people on the land harvesting and tending to the berry patches, people may actually start caring for these areas. (Similar comments expressed by 6 other participants.) For many of the First Nations and Euro-Canadian participants, selective stem removal represented the most obvious and preferred approach to careful land management. However, some Euro-Canadian participants expressed views that were consistent with their First Nations counterparts in that a sustained and visible human presence on the landscape would embody care. Among this group, suggestions for how to accomplish this varied from erecting built structures (e.g. silvicultural camps or growth monitoring stations) to direct community involvement in the restoration of damaged landscapes or recently harvested areas: EC14: . . .it might be good to see some kind of building or permanent camp set up in areas that have been disturbed. That way you could see that someone is looking after the area. EC15: Why not just get people out there looking after the land? I mean, if you have people involved in looking after their backyard wouldn’t that go a long way towards making people feel better about how the forest is managed? (Similar comments expressed by 5 other participants.) A few observations are worth noting about these comments. First, there is a clear recognition that humans are dependent on the environment and that some visible alteration of the forest is to be both expected and regarded as part of the ‘natural condition.’ Indeed, as one participant remarked, upon coming to the region 40 years ago, the desire to see untrammeled nature was tempered after several years by the realization that, whether for timber, grazing lands or berries, human beings have in various ways transformed the landscapes of the Skeena valley for generations: EC15: I guess when I came here as a young guy I expected to see more of a wilderness, and it really got to me, you know, how the forest was being abused. But I guess with age I’ve either just mellowed or come to the realization that using the forest is what makes this area tick. (Similar comments expressed by 2 other participants.) Second, where participants express a desire to see forest management conducted according to a standard of care, that standard may have its basis in familiar or culturally recognizable patterns of land stewardship. For instance, for some First Nations participants, care is implicit in the traditional pattern of berry patch rotation. Similarly, for the Euro-Canadian participants, care is seen largely through built structures and people present on and actively tending to the land, perhaps reflecting a more European conception of agricultural management. The implications of these findings for landscape management and research are addressed in the following discussion.

57

5. Discussion: implications for landscape planning and research A few basic caveats need to be stated before interpreting these exploratory study results. The participants selected for this study are from a local context and, as such, their perceptions may not reflect broader or more systemic landscape management issues (e.g. the value of forest resources to the provincial economy), or the landscape management perceptions of British Columbians in other regions of the province. In addition to being locally derived, the sample of participants is small when compared to most quantitative studies, and was purposively selected. Therefore, the results cannot be statistically generalized to other communities in British Columbia (or elsewhere) and should be replicated in another community setting. In addition, the possibility cannot be ruled out that, enabled by the semi-structured qualitative process, our explanations of the landscape conditions and questioning may have inadvertently influenced the preference responses. However, given the measures taken to minimize this possibility (e.g. participant review of transcripts and the research report) and, as revealed by repeated examinations of the interview transcripts, the disclosure of interview questions, and lack of obvious bias in the questioning, this explanation for the responses that emerged seems unlikely. However, there appears to be a strong degree of analytic generalizability (Miles and Huberman, 1994: pp. 27–8) as some patterns of landscape evaluation are clear and broadly consistent with other forest landscape evaluation and social acceptability studies (Kruger, 2005). For instance, participant comments demonstrated that multiple factors are brought to bear in the evaluation of alternative landscape conditions. The complexity of participant appraisals is reflected in the attention to visual factors, but they also care about how natural and human communities will be affected by landscape alterations. Sustaining multiple values in landscape management is an important principle in the management of British Columbia’s Crown forests, and the salience of balanced use to the Skeena participants reinforces its significance. No matter how harvest methods appear from a visual quality perspective, landscape managers will still need to address stakeholders’ concerns for a range of multiple and locally salient issues such as the location and extent of harvest operations and effects on non-timber resources (Lewis, 2006). The importance of fish, wildlife and plant harvests to both the residents First Nations and Euro-Canadian populations was a common refrain in the interview comments, and the future of landscape management in the upper Skeena will need to pay considerable attention to the integrity of these important values. Balancing trade offs between desirable and undesirable outcomes among multiple forest users will invariably make landscape management in the upper Skeena valley more of a diplomatic than a technical exercise. Further complicating matters for landscape managers is the finding that landscape appraisals may depend to an important degree on the type of knowledge that is activated at the moment of judgment (Ribe, 2006; Kearney, 2001). This was most clearly demonstrated by the Euro-Canadian forest workers who changed their generally favorable reactions to the simulated burn treatments with the

58

J.L. Lewis / Landscape and Urban Planning 85 (2008) 49–59

added information that the conditions reflected traditional patterns of aboriginal berry cultivation rather than a conventional silvicultural practice. In effect, the same landscape condition can be associated with different responses, depending on the particular knowledge that is contextually activated at the moment of judgment. In other words, the findings reported in this study provide some support for the argument that evaluations of landscape change may be information induced or situationally dependent (Kearney, 2001). A nascent body of research in forest management has documented the effects of information on public perceptions of forestry treatments, and research from fields as diverse as psychology and political science have demonstrated that the amount of information, prior experience with the attitude object, and the salience of information to particular audiences can have significant effects on preference formation and expression (Althaus, 1998; Davidson et al., 1985). On the basis of this study alone, it would be premature to derive theoretical insights or practical guidelines addressing information effects in the area of landscape management. By including larger participants samples, more diverse landscape types and controlled variation of the content and amount of information presented to research participants, future studies may gain more insight into the moderating effect of knowledge and information in landscape appraisals. Although landscape evaluations appear to be contextually dependent, a more definite finding is the notion that landscapes themselves convey information and that people actively seek information when they experience a landscape (Nassauer, 1995; Sheppard, 2001b). In effect, from natural as well as relatively developed or urbanized landscapes, people “expect to see the look of human intention” and, in particular the degree to which a landscape is perceived to be well cared for. For the upper Skeena Valley participants, there was a clear desire to see that forest companies and the provincial government are managing the forest with care: FN13: I’d like to see more care in how they design the blocks, the cutblocks, or how they take measures to protect riparian areas or areas which, this has wildlife. While the finding that people desire to see signs of careful human intention in the landscape is not new, particularly as it is reflected in selective patterns of timber removal such as retention harvesting and riparian leave strips, it was unexpected to find that the participants preferred or wished to see forest landscapes with a visible human presence such as built structures in forest openings, or indications of short-term ‘domestic’ cultivation and management (e.g. rotating harvest and ‘fallow’ patches with interim uses such as berry cultivation). In terms of the latter pattern, both aboriginal and non-aboriginal participants equated the ‘cultivatedness’ of the berry management patterns with human intention and with a deliberate, sustained and, therefore, careful approach to landscape management. For the First Nations who expressed a preference for the latter form of visible stewardship, their preferences were clearly rooted in a culturally recognizable pattern of land management. This finding resonates with Nassauer’s hypothesis that standards of care are predicated on culturally based expectations and recognizable patterns of husbanded landscape form (Nassauer, 1995). Future research

will need to investigate more thoroughly perceptions of differing patterns of short-term cultivation in the forest landscape, how perceptions of these patterns vary inter and intra-culturally, and how information about these patterns affects acceptability judgments. The finding that people evaluate the acceptability of landscape treatments in terms of indications of human intentionality and stewardship is highly relevant to decision making in the context of visual management policy. With regard to the assessment of visual interests, the finding that these may be assessed in a relatively objective manner through physical manifestations of careful stewardship suggests that it is feasible to develop practically applicable visual assessment frameworks based on objective landscape characteristics that reflect local concerns. However, before engaging in costly endeavors to adapt visual assessment frameworks, policy-makers and planners may first want to know how important visual indicators of care are to local communities, and how they may design landscapes to accommodate expectations of visible stewardship. By including larger samples of forest landscapes, or perhaps a broader range of modified landscape conditions than the four employed here, future studies may attempt to validate the present research findings and potentially gain more insight into the role and nature of physical indications of care in landscape evaluations. Acknowledgements The author wishes to gratefully acknowledge the anonymous reviewers for their comments on draft versions of this manuscript and, in particular, the participation and contribution of the Gitksan First Nation and residents of Hazelton, South Hazelton, New Hazelton, Kisipiox, Kitwanga, Gitsegukla and Gitanyow in the conduct of this research. I also wish to acknowledge the financial support of the Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council of Canada. References Agee, J., 1993. Fire Ecology of Pacific Northwest Forests. Island Press, Washington, DC. Althaus, S., 1998. Information effects in collective preferences. Am. Pol. Sci. Rev. 92 (3), 545–558. Anderson, M., 1993. Native Californians as ancient and contemporary cultivators. In: Anderson, M., Blackburn, T. (Eds.), Before the Wilderness: Environmental Management by Native Californians. Ballena Press, New York, NY, pp. 151–174. Austin, D., 1994. Incorporating cognitive theory into environmental policy making. Env. Prof. 16, 262–274. Baker, W., 2000. Fires and climate in forested landscapes of the Rocky Mountains. In: Veblen, T., Montenegro, G., Baker, W., Swetnam, T. (Eds.), Fire Regimes and Climatic Change in Temperate Ecosystems of the Western Americas. Springer-Verlag, New York, NY, pp. 120–157. Ball, M., Smith, G., 1992. Analysing Visual Data (Qualitative Research Methods Series, Vol. 24). Sage Publications, Newbury Park, CA. Benedict, R., 1934. Patterns of Culture. Houghton Mifflin, Boston, MA. Bonnicksen, T., 2000. America’s Ancient Forests: From the Ice Age to the Age of Discovery. John Wiley and Sons, London. Boyd, R., 1999. Strategies of Indian burning in the Willamette Valley. In: Boyd, R. (Ed.), Indians, Fire and the Land in the Pacific Northwest. Oregon State University Press, Corvallis, OR, pp. 94–138.

J.L. Lewis / Landscape and Urban Planning 85 (2008) 49–59 Chipeniuk, R., 2004. Planning for Amenity Migration in Canada: current capacities of interior British Columbian mountain communities. Mt. Res. Dev. 24 (4), 327–335. Clark, R., Stankey, G., Kruger, L., 1999. From new perspectives to ecosystem management: a social science perspective on forest management. In: Aley, J., Burch, W., Conover, B., Field, D. (Eds.), Ecosystem Management: Adaptive Strategies for Natural Resources Organisations in the 21st Century. Taylor and Francis, Philadelphia, PA, pp. 73–84. Clausen, D. and Schroeder, R., 2004. The social acceptability of alternatives to clearcutting: discussion and literature review with specific on southeast Alaska. Gen. Tech. Rep. PNW-GTR-594. USDA Forest Service, Pacific Northwest Research Station, Portland, OR, 37 pp. Collier, J., Collier, M., 1999. Visual Anthropology: Photography as a Research Method, sixth ed. University of New Mexico Press, Albuquerque, NM. Davidson, A., Yantis, S., Norwood, M., Montano, D., 1985. Amount of information about the attitude object and attitude–behavior consistency. J. Pers. Soc. Psych. 49 (5), 1184–1198. Dawson, G., 1881. Report on the Exploration from Port Simpson on the Pacific Coast to Edmonton on the Saskatchewan, Embracing a Portion of the Northern Part of British Columbia and the Peace River Country. Geological Survey of Canada, Montreal. de Vaus, D., 2001. Research Design in Social Research. Sage Publications, London. Flanagan, T., 2000. First Nations? Second Thoughts. McGill-Queen’s University Press, Montreal, QC. Geertz, C., 1973. The Interpretation of Cultures. Basic Books, New York. Glaser, B., Strauss, A., 1967. The Discovery of Grounded Theory: Strategies for Qualitative Research. Aldine, Chicago, IL. Goetz, J., LeCompte, M., 1984. Ethnography and Qualitative Design in Educational Research. Academic Press, Orlando, FL. Gottesfeld-Johnson, L., 1994. Aboriginal burning for vegetation management in Northwest British Columbia. Hum. Ecol. 22, 171–188. Haeussler, S., Pojar, J., Geisler, B., Yole, D., Annas, R., 1985. A Guide to the Interior Cedar-Hemlock Zone, Northwestern Transitional Subzone (ICHg), in the Prince Rupert Forest Region, British Columbia. British Columbia Ministry of Forests, Research Branch, Victoria, BC. Harper, D., 1994. On the authority of the image: visual methods at the crossroads. In: Denzin, N., Lincoln, Y. (Eds.), Handbook of Qualitative Research. Sage Publications, Thousand Oaks, CA, pp. 403–412. Henderson, K., 1991. Dimensions of Choice: A Qualitative Approach to Recreation, Parks and Leisure Research. Venture Publishing, State College, PA. Johnson, J., 1990. Selecting Ethnographic Informants. Sage Publications, London. Johnson, L., 1999. Aboriginal burning for vegetation management in Northwest British Columbia. In: Boyd, R. (Ed.), Indians, Fire and the Land in the Pacific Northwest. Oregon State University Press, Corvallis, OR, pp. 238–254. Kearney, A., 2001. Effects of an informational intervention on public reactions to clear-cutting. Soc. Nat. Resour. 14, 777–790. Kruger, L., 2005. Community and landscape change in southeast Alaska. Landsc. Urban Plan. 72, 235–249. Lepofsky, D., Heyerdahl, E., Lertzman, K., Schaepe, D., Mierendorf, B., 2003. Historical meadow dynamics in southwest British Columbia: a multidisciplinary analysis. Conserv. Ecol. 7 (3), 5–22. Lewis, H., 1973. Patterns of Burning in California: Ecology and Ethnohistory. Ballena Press Anthropological Papers 1. Ballena Press, Ramona, CA. Lewis, H., 1988. Yards, corridors and mosaics: how to burn a boreal forest. Hum. Ecol. 16 (1), 57–77. Lewis, H., Ferguson, T., 1999. Yards, corridors and mosaics. In: Boyd, R. (Ed.), Indians, Fire and the Land in the Pacific Northwest. Oregon State University Press, Corvallis, OR, pp. 164–184. Lewis, J., 2000. Ancient Values, New Technology: Emerging Methods for Integrating Cultural Values in Forest Management. Master of Science. University of British Columbia. Lewis, J., Sheppard, S.R.J., 2005. Ancient values, new challenges: indigenous spiritual perceptions of landscapes and forest management. Soc. Nat. Resour. 18 (10), 907–920.

59

Lewis, J., 2006. Culture and the Forested Landscape: Inter and Intra Cultural Perceptions of Modified Forest Landscapes. Ph.D. Dissertation. University of British Columbia, Vancouver. Lincoln, Y., Guba, E., 1985. Naturalistic Inquiry. Sage Publications, Beverly Hills, CA. McCracken, G., 1988. The Long Interview. Sage Publications, London. Merriam, S., 1988. Case Study Research in Education: A Qualitative Approach. Jossey-Bass Publishers, San Francisco, CA. Miles, M., Huberman, A., 1994. Qualitative Data Analysis. Sage, London. Nassauer, J., 1995. Messy ecosystems, orderly frames. Landsc. J. 14 (2), 161–170. Parminter, J., 1995. Human influence on landscape pattern in the Pacific Region: impacts of burning by First Nations and early European settlers. In: Presented at the Landscape Ecology Symposium, 76th Annual Meeting of the Pacific Division, American Association for the Advancement of Science. Vancouver, BC, June 20. Peacock, S., Turner, N., 2000. ‘Just Like a Garden:’ Traditional resource management and biodiversity conservation in the interior plateau of British Columbia. In: Minnis, P., Elisens, W. (Eds.), Biodiversity and Native America. University of Oklahoma Press, Tulsa, OK, pp. 133–179. Poudrier, A., 1891. Exploration Survey of New Caledonia. Part I. Crown Land Survey, Victoria. Poudrier, A., 1893. Report of the Bulkley Valley Survey. Commission of Lands and Works, Victoria. Ribe, R., 2006. Perceptions of forestry alternatives in the US Pacific Northwest: information effects and acceptability distribution analysis. J. Env. Psyc. 26, 100–115. Satterfield, T., 2002. Anatomy of a Conflict: Identity, Knowledge and Emotion in Old-Growth Forests. UBC Press, Vancouver, BC. Schindler, B., Brunson, M., Stankey, G., 2002. Social acceptability of forest conditions and management practices: a problem analysis. Gen. Tech. Rep. PNW-GTR-537. USDA Forest Service, Pacific Northwest Research Station, Portland, OR. Sheppard, S.R.J., 1989. Visual Simulation: A User’s Guide for Architects, Engineers, and Planners. Van Nostrand Reinhold, New York, NY. Sheppard, S.R.J., 2001a. Guidance for crystal ball gazers: developing a code of ethics for landscape visualization. Landsc. Urban Plan. 54, 183– 199. Sheppard, S.R.J., 2001b. Beyond visual resource management: emerging theories of an ecological aesthetic and visible stewardship. In: Sheppard, S., Harshaw, H. (Eds.), Forests and Landscapes: Linking Ecology, Sustainability, and Aesthetics. IUFRO Research Series, CABI, Wallingford, UK, pp. 149–172. Spradley, J., 1979. The Ethnographic Interview. Holt, Rinehart and Winston, New York, NY. Stankey, G., 1996. Defining the social acceptability of forest management practices and conditions: integrating science and social choice. In: Brunson, M., Kruger, L., Tyler, C., Schroeder, S. (Eds.), Defining Social Acceptability in Ecosystem Management: A Workshop Proccedings. Kelso Washington, June 23–25. US Department of Agriculture, Forest Service, Pacific Northwest Research Station, Portland, Oregon, pp. 99–112. Tomlinson, G., 1993. Challenge the Wilderness. Northwest Wilderness Books, Seattle. Trusler, S., 2002. Footsteps Among the Berries: The Ecology and Fire History of Traditional Gitksan and Wet’suwet’en Huckleberry Sites. Master of Science. University of Northern British Columbia. Turner, N., 1999. ‘Time to Burn:’ traditional use of fire to enhance resource production by aboriginal peoples in British Columbia. In: Boyd, R. (Ed.), Indians, Fire and the Land in the Pacific Northwest. Oregon State University Press, Corvallis, OR, pp. 185–218. Weetman, G., Panozzo, E., Jull, M., Marek, K., 1990. An Assessment of Opportunities for Alternative Silvicultural Systems in the SBS, ICH and ESSF Biogeoclimatic Zones of the Prince Rupert Forest Region. Contract Report. British Columbia Ministry of Forests, Prince Rupert Forest Region, Smithers, B.C., March 1990.