What do we mean when we say “rewilding”. The British Isles have been continuously occupied by humans since before written history. Not one of the constituent regions and nations of these islands can be said to contain a true wilderness, as we would today understand it. When the Middle English term wilderness was coined at some point in the late 12^th to early 13^th centuries, it was understood to mean land that was “wild or uncultivated”. It is important to place this within the British context. Even woodland that seems ancient to modern eyes is in fact very new when set besides the nations in which it resides. After all, ancient woodland is defined as having existed continuously since 1600, in England, Wales and Northern Ireland, or 1750, in Scotland.

Prehistoric Britain was, as with much of Continental Europe, heavily forested and swamped. During the Neolithic period the forests began to be cleared for farmland, a process which accelerated over the Medieval era, while the process of draining the Fens began in the 17^th century, before concluding successfully in the 19^th century.

Can we define clearing primeval forest and draining fenland as “successful” in the lights of the modern rewilding movement? After all, the destruction and degradation of natural habitats to benefit human settlement and land cultivation flies completely in the face of the principles of ecological restoration. Had the Neolithic peoples and the successors to have abided by these principles, then the fields that would one day become Blake’s “green and pleasant land” would have remained the “lost rainforests” described by Guy Shrubsole.

Clearly there exists a tension between human needs from the environment and the ecosystem’s continued viability. Some go as far as to characterise humanity as an invasive species, one whose presence has and can only lead to catastrophic impacts on the wider biosphere. Indeed, the World Wide Fund for Nature asserts that “the sixth mass extinction is driven by human activity” placing most of the emphasis on the conversion of land for food production.

Can we square the circle of rewilding Britain, particularly southern England, with our domestic agricultural needs? Rewilding Britain defines rewilding as “the large-scale restoration of nature until it can take care of itself – and us – again. It’s about restoring nature’s remarkable web of life, including habitats, natural processes and, where appropriate, missing species”.

Looking at this definition, several questions immediately come to mind:

1. What constitutes “large-scale” restoration, as opposed to medium- or small-scale?
2. How do we know whether the restoration has reached the point where “nature … can take care of itself – and us – again”?
3. Can we restore the “remarkable web of life”, in light of our continuing use of the land?
4. How do we go about rewilding?
5. How do we judge whether a particular project or programme has succeeded or failed?
6. How do we change these criteria?
7. Who decides what is good practice and what is not?
8. Is rewilding desirable?

The last question is particularly important. In my work as a project manager, specialising in implementing transformation programmes, I have seen organisations (and what is a nation but the most sophisticated organisation yet invented) embark on major transformation programmes (rewilding Britain) without properly understanding the requirements of these programmes (fundamentally altering our land use practices), the scope of the transformation (how much land, for how long, how much effort, and how much money) and the conditions by which a programme is considered to have been successfully delivered. It is one thing to say that we would like to preserve Red Squirrel habitat in Cumbria and Northumberland, and quite another to say that we will do so by culling the Grey Squirrel population throughout Britain.

Rewilding Britain provides the following examples of rewilding in practice:

• Protecting, expanding and connecting ancient woodlands to enable a diverse range of wildlife to establish and disperse, and increasing carbon storage
• Reducing high populations of grazing animals to help trees and other vegetation grow
• Removing fishing pressure and creating proper marine protection to stop dredging and bottom trawling so that sea life can recover and flourish
• Restoring wetlands and introducing beavers to boost biodiversity, store carbon and help flood prevention
• Bringing back missing species to plug crucial gaps in the ecosystem, and re-forge key relationships between species (for example, between predators and prey and scavengers)
• Restoring key marine ecosystems such as kelp forest, seagrass and oyster beds to boost biodiversity, suck in carbon and get natural processes working
• Removing dams so that fish can move freely and the forces of erosions and deposition are allowed to re-establish themselves
• Reconnecting rivers with floodplains, restoring their natural course to slow the flow, easing flooding and creating habitats for fish and other aquatic and wetland wildlife
• Connecting up habitats and providing wildlife bridges so wildlife can move and disperse naturally, helping them adapt to climate change and build resilience.
• Setting aside large areas for nature so that nature can truly evolve on its own terms, maximising biodiversity, carbon storage and essential eco benefits
• Creating a wildlife-friendly garden and helping wildlife move through it to help nature on a smaller scale

Looking through these examples I can see further issues arising. Land use is, unfortunately, a zero-sum game. With the exceptions of the United Arab Emirates and the Netherlands, no-one is making any more of it at scale. If a field in East Anglia is sold for a housing development, then it cannot, of course, be simultaneously used to grow hops for brewing. Similarly, if a hillside field in Wales is reforested with the intention of “protecting, expanding and connecting ancient woodlands” then it cannot be used for grazing livestock. Cutting down on “high populations of grazing animals” necessarily means that we produce less of a combination of meat, dairy products, wool, leather and other products.

As a passionate sailor I can support stopping dredging and bottom trawling, but a fisherman may have considerable complaints on the grounds of providing for his family.

Bringing back missing species is a fascinating topic, and one which I suspect is most associated with rewilding in the public mind. Reintroducing Wood Ants, Kelp and European Sturgeon may be one thing, but reintroducing lynx, wolves and even bears is another matter entirely. I note with some surprise the entry on Wild Boar. I will come back to look at Boar in the future, but it is extremely amusing to see my near neighbour described as “free-living” which sounds remarkably hippie-ish when compared to the massive, tough and fast beast renowned locally for eviscerating impetuous dogs, devastating gardens and wrecking cars.

The list of examples goes on in this idealistic way. The matter of “setting aside large areas for nature” is particularly vague. Again, we come to the issue of who decides and according to which criteria. What may be a single ranch in the state of Montana may be more accurately described as “Yorkshire” for England. The list ends with the charming entry of “creating a wildlife-friendly garden and helping wildlife move through it”, a policy suggestion that seems rather less fraught with peril than many of the earlier examples.

About George Rist

I’m George Rist, a Monmouth-based Management Consultant, dedicated to helping organisations achieve transformative change through strategic, sustainable, and measurable solutions. With expertise in digital transformation, project management, and operational excellence, I’m passionate about making a positive impact across industries.