Tragedy of the Commons
I was at the shop working a Saturday shift about a month ago. Sometimes we get busy and our back-of-house spaces miss out on the care we provide to the public spaces. One of those areas is our staff kitchen, specifically the fridge. I noticed the state it was in— random juices stuck to the shelves, unidentifiable items in the freezer. It was what you might call a tragedy of the commons, a space that everyone has the freedom to use but people lack the responsibility to care for. An example of the phrase, “Not my problem.”
Pike’s Peak, CO is a common space to be enjoyed and cared for by all.
It’s a scenario that plays out all over our cities, our wild spaces, and this planet. We often lack the feeling of ownership that could improve a whole lot of things. You see a pile of trash on the curb that blows down the street; you watch people hike down the trail and step over the fallen branch instead of dragging it to the side and improving the path for everyone. You, the passerby, didn’t cause these problems, others did, but what are you doing to solve them? Do you say to yourself, “This isn’t my space, this isn’t my problem?” Do you think, “Someone else will come along and take care of this?”
When you walk through the backcountry and stumble across a campsite with trash in the firepit and beer cans in the bushes, what do you do? When you see garbage piled up at the trailhead, do you leave it there or do you haul a bag out? I can’t tell you the number of cans and bottles I’ve hauled out of Red River Gorge, the collective bags of garbage I’ve picked up in Clifton. I’m not here to brag, I’m here to share a thought. What if we all treated the world around us with care and attention? What if we acted instead of making excuses or thinking ourselves out of making a difference?
Trail work, such as this in Red River Gorge, KY, is a way to give back to wild spaces.
We talk about Leave No Trace, we talk about stewardship of our outdoor spaces, and we have conversations about the increasing number of people recreating on our public lands. We should also talk about how we give people a sense of ownership in both the places they recreate and the public spaces we inhabit. It’s a tough thing to do. You cannot teach ownership; you cannot teach people to care. It must grow naturally.
I take people backpacking, kayaking, and climbing in the wilderness. After they see magnificent views and take a dip in crystal-clear water, they come back to the frontcountry relaxed, refreshed, and happy. We often find ourselves in this conversation. They start to think about how they can care for the space they are in. They have a sense of ownership.
If everyone took inspiration from the vast green forests, rushing rivers, or rocky alpine landscapes they find themselves in, we might make a collective difference in how we think. If each of us picked up a few pieces of trash and switched a few things about the way we live and what we consume, we’d have a chance to keep this little blue dot a beautiful place.
A trash free beach is a rare example where the tragedy of the commons doesn’t prevail.
Next time you go outside, think about your impact— the positives you provide and the negatives you create. Think about how you would want a space to look if it was your responsibility. At the end of the day, it is. Together we’re responsible for the way our world goes. If enough of us accept responsibility and take action, this’ll be a pretty good rock to live on in this big ol’ universe.
by: Ben Shaw
Some folks I’ve ran into have their various issues with the national parks, from overcrowding to the extent of the protections there but, national parks stand out to me for various reasons. It might be that they’ve been set aside from the rest of the world to be protected and treasured. It could be that I’ve been lucky enough to make some of my best memories in these places. It may be that they provide a window into a world before people touched it. I think everyone that goes to a national park has a different reason for loving it, but they all relate back to the same thing… Our national parks allow us to get back to the basics and enjoy a simpler life. They also show us what an environment not touched by humans looks like in all its rugged, untarnished beauty, and natural glory.
I remember the first friend trip I took, as opposed to a family one, we visited Zion National Park, Utah and Great Sand Dunes National Park, Colorado. I can still, remember that feeling of awe when we got to the top of Angel’s Landing and sat there staring out across the canyon, three years ago. The only reminder of the outside world was the winding road down below and the paved trail that we had hiked up on. These things raised a question to me, “Are these places still truly wild with all that we’ve built in them?” I ask myself this question repeatedly in the many places I have visited and still do to this day.
I’ve stood on the edge in these places, climbed their tallest peaks, shared adventures with friends that I can never forget and because of these things, these places will forever have a special place in my heart. As always with places that are special to us, we think about their longevity and continued existence for others to enjoy.
Our national parks aren’t necessarily under assault as some might suggest, but they are going through a state of change. With more people getting involved in outdoor activities than ever before and more people visiting our national parks each year the Parks Service has a responsibility to make sure that these places remain protected for generations to come. Whether they do that through increased fees, permit quotas or even shutting down areas of certain parks, it makes you wonder if their various tactics to protect these lands might be hurting them. Wouldn’t it be helpful in the long run to have more people out there being able to visit these places and getting them to have strong feelings about them so that they might be compelled to join the conservation effort? Wouldn’t it be more beneficial to have high attendance and teach those attendees about the proper outdoors practices (i.e. Leave No Trace) so that those wishing to par-take in the beauty of the outdoors know proper conduct? These are tough questions, but they’re questions that we need to keep asking to ensure the continued unspoiled beauty of these places, and to make sure our access to them is not minimized.
For me, this is how I protect these places: I continue to ask these questions every day. I’ll continue to try and help ensure the things I got to enjoy in the past are there for future generations to do the same. I’ll keep dipping my toes in new waters, suffering through the dry mountain heat to get to the summit and hiking for days on end to find the hidden beauty in the places I visit. Most of all, I’ll continue to make new memories that inspire me to continue trying to protect these places, so others can enjoy them the way I did.
