To better understand the challenges facing Mount Robson and other iconic parks in Canada, a little context might be helpful.

The issues began, in many ways, with the railway. Why? Because it didn’t just bring together a nation, it also gave us parks.

When the railways were constructed – first Canadian Pacific to the south and then further north, Canadian National’s precursors the Canadian Northern and the Grand Trunk Pacific –easterners became exposed to what Indigenous nations have known since time immemorial: This is a beautiful land.

Canadian Pacific completed Canada’s first trans-continental railway on November 7^th, 1885, and just over two weeks later, on November 25^th, 1885, Canada’s first national park was created: Banff.

That wasn’t a coincidence, explains cultural anthropologist Sierra Dakin-Kuiper

“We can see a clear timeline of the expansion of Canada and the creation of these national parks. They’re all connected.”

Mount Robson – BC’s second oldest provincial park – was created under similar circumstances, with the Grand Trunk urging its creation.

In both cases, the goal of the parks wasn’t to conserve nature for future generations. After all, at that time, wilderness seemed limitless across North America and especially in Canada.

No, early parks were created with one intention: Economics.

Don’t believe me? Consider the famous northern archway to America’s Yellowstone National Park, stating it was established for “the benefit and the enjoyment of the people”.

Mount Robson? It was created for “public enjoyment”.

And unless you lost your land in the creation of the parks, it’s hard to deny that many have come to enjoy Mount Robson, Banff, Jasper and other well-known and beloved parks in Canada.

But here’s the problem: At some point in the last 125 some-odd years, wilderness has disappeared – habitat has been settled and altered, leaving species’ ranges in retreat or populations in decline or both. What was created to help new railways grow their economic base has now become something else:

Canada’s protected areas – national parks, provincial parks, heck even municipal parks – in many ways have become our reservoir of biodiversity: Conservation’s Noah’s Ark, if you will.

Yet people cling to those founding statutes, with some believing parks still must be managed for people, not nature. And it’s a perception that’s been furthered with the infrastructure we’ve built in parks.

Unlike many famous US protected areas, major Canadian parks – like Banff and Mount Robson – don’t just have railways running through them, but as you know, they’re also home to major highways. And with that infrastructure constructed, entire communities were established in the parks to service tourism and transportation needs.

The growth of these communities inside of parks drove the need for more economic opportunities – and more infrastructure.

In Banff, ski resorts and a golf course were constructed in prime grizzly habitat. 

And none of that touches on the hundreds of kilometres of trails, park roads, park maintenance compounds, campgrounds and picnic areas, resorts, tourist shops and information centres that are littered across prime wildlife habitat in the mountain national parks.

Many of these decisions to put people-first happened long ago and were rooted in how and why the parks were founded. But the perception that parks continue to exist for recreation isn’t just reflected in how some visitors act, but also in the decisions made by our national park agency, Parks Canada. As an example?

In recent years, Parks Canada has sought to create a stand-alone paved bike lane through areas where grizzlies raise their cubs and, in the case of Jasper, allowed a bus company to construct a private skywalk-viewing platform in prime mountain goat habitat – an animal some scientists believe is threatened with a changing climate.

Before the devastating wildfire, Jasper declined the opportunity to speak with Nature Labs and explain their management decisions, but what’s clear is that the founding principal of parks – a resource for the people – continues to shape today’s national park decisions, biologist Victoria Lukasik explains.

“If you say that this is a park, but you’re doing tons of high impact recreation, then you’re not necessarily protecting the area or the wildlife like you say you are.”

Why does it matter? Well, in part, the integrity of the mountain parks matters because of its scale, as biodiversity champion Harvey Locke explains.

“The entire (Rocky Mountain parks) complex constitutes one of the world’s greatest assemblages of protected areas and the aggregate is the size of the entire country of Switzerland.”

With connections to provincial and national parks, the entire mountain parks complex is not just a UNESCO World Heritage site, it’s also the scale of conservation necessary to protect biodiversity across this ecosystem, Harvey argues.

“The Rocky Mountain Parks together have a viable population of grizzly bears. The Rocky Mountain Parks individually do not.”

In other words, the inter-connected nature of all the mountain parks is what allows for the area to do its part to sustain biodiversity. And it is a net positive for biodiversity, Harvey continues.

“So, you have this full assemblage of large mammals, including the large carnivores, which are the hardest things to keep.”

But for animals that don’t understand imaginary human lines on a map – which is every animal other than us – the threats to biodiversity outside the parks also pose a challenge to biodiversity inside the parks, as Parks Canada’s Louis-René Sénéchal tells us.

“Animals go in and out of these parks. So, unless you plan some buffer space, some corridors, some links for these animals to reach other spaces they want to spend time in, then you’re alone with your small protected space and that’s not going to work.”

Victoria Lukasik agrees.

“These animals, especially the ones who have larger ranges, like carnivores, need more than just a little stamp of land. They need to be able to move and they need to be able to disperse.”

The argument is that buffer zones around parks will create transition areas that help flora and fauna adjust to human presence and give parks more room for error.

Mount Robson’s Elliott Ingles understands why some advocate for the idea.

“In a perfect world I mean, of course. I’m in the in the protection business.”

But Elliott also understands that “it’s very important that our economy is strong and people are getting jobs and working.”

For that reason, Elliott says, “I think we can just do everything we can within our boundaries to protect wildlife and biodiversity.”

But no matter how old a park’s boundaries might be, its continued existence and ability to help biodiversity depends on public support. And continued local buy-in depends on there being enough jobs around – and inside – of a park to justify making a place off-limits to development, notes Bruce Wilkinson.

“In Valemount (near the west border of Mount Robson), when we moved here in 1986, there was a vibe where people didn’t think the park did anything for them.”

Bruce literally created the tourism industry in Mount Robson and the Robson Valley.

“BC provincial parks provided an opportunity to run a business in a park – which hadn’t happened before – to help promote the park.”

Bruce built the visitor centre, established many of the region’s tourism programs and had both the vision and the drive to make the industry thrive. But it wasn’t an easy sell.

“I had a hard time selling that we should be tying the Valemount flag to Mount Robson Provincial Park. The park is known around the world, but Valemount isn’t known at all.”

Bruce succeeded because he took it slow and used a community-first approach to his work.

“Once you got out there and learned, it was all of a sudden, your community starts to buy in, thinking ‘hey, we’ll we’re a pretty cool place’.”

And, today, Valemount increasingly embraces Mount Robson because of tourism, adds Mount Robson’s Elliott Ingles.

“The park wouldn’t be here without tourism.”

Loraina Stephen agrees.

“The jobs and the positions that we have, contribute hugely to the economy.”

Loraina is the Park Operator for Mount Robson – she’s built a private business helping deliver the park’s front country services on behalf of the BC government.

“This collaboration allows us to provide some of the best services you’re going to see in the world.”

The jobs she provides – the tourism she helps sustain – trickles down to help other businesses in nearby communities.

“It helps pay for our wages.”

It’s why Loraina believes parks help economic growth: “We have a lot of parks and a lot of opportunities for jobs.”

Indeed, multiple studies have quantified the economic value of both provincial and national parks. A recent study commissioned by the Canadian Parks and Wilderness Society shows that park visitors contribute 2.6 billion to Canada’s Gross Domestic Product or GDP – one of our best tools for measuring the health of our economy.

The same study also shows that “National, provincial and territorial parks in Canada support 64,000 full time equivalent jobs across the country (and) contribute $6 to Canada’s GDP for every dollar invested by governments. Forty percent of these investments are then returned to various levels of government through tax revenues.”

But the economic impact of parks is even bigger than that, says the former head of Tourism Vancouver and global tourism expert, Rick Antonson.

“One of the reasons that people from around the world visit Vancouver is because it’s got the best back yard in the world.”

That doesn’t just matter for rural communities, struggling to find economic opportunities, but it also matters for entire regions – for provinces and the country even.

As Rick explains, “protecting our lands, inviting people to come and experience them, is an absolute cornerstone to Canada’s image around the world.”

That’s big business and big business means big pressure on parks to keep making decisions that ensure the good times keep rolling.

“Someone from Germany or someone from Asia isn’t going to come all this way for only two or three nights in Vancouver. They will come all this way for two or three weeks in Vancouver because they can see (our protected places).

Is that an issue for our protected places? Ricks says “90% of the people that go through a Banff National Park never get more than about 100 yards off the roadways. But because they are there, they understand and appreciate – and ideally become advocates for – the protection of the rest of the land. What they consume is the concept and what they get is that those lands are protected.”

But Neil Fletcher thinks parks can actually prevent people from advocating for nature.

“When you take people’s ability to go hunt on the landscape out of the picture, it actually removes them from the landscape – from caring about the landscape – and takes away a connection that they have to the landscape.”

Neil is a biologist with the non-profit BC Wildlife Federation – a member of the Canadian Wildlife Federation. And Neil says the BCWF’s position on parks is “a managed hunt is really our position.”

In other words, if hunting can’t happen, the park shouldn’t exist. It’s why groups like the BC Wildlife Federation have opposed new national parks in places like BC’s Flathead Valley, south along the Rocky Mountains, and in the highly endangered Okanagan desert ecosystem.

Why?

Because national parks ban hunting and activities like ATV use.  

“Recreational activity, or roads, can have just as much of an impact as can hunting, if not more.”

And, you might say, hold on one second: BC Wildlife Federation is against the type of tourism that goes hand-in-hand with parks, but also wants parks to allow for more types of recreation? Yes, and it makes sense, according to cultural anthropologist Sierra Dakin-Kuiper.

“So, roads, campgrounds, that sort of thing…would actually take away what (rural communities) so loved and really valued about that landscape.”

Conversely, hunters, anglers and ATV users usually don’t visit landscapes by the busload, often overwhelming the community’s culture in the process. But by the same token, the economic impact isn’t the same either.

And it’s not that rural communities don’t want economic opportunity, but often they don’t want it at the expense of their culture, explains Sierra Dakin-Kuiper.

“There comes a lot of concern and worry and fear that there has to be a great deal of sacrifice to have protected areas.”

That’s the thing: Balancing people and nature in many ways is about addressing cultural fears.

For some, the recreational infrastructure that exists in our parks – roads, ski resorts, golf courses, bike trails, cottages and more – is part of their cultural upbringing and they don’t want it to disappear, even if it benefits nature.

For others, parks are a critical source of employment and the very reason a community – a culture – exists.

And still for others? Creating new parks raises concerns that the local culture will be changed – some activities banned, while others are allowed, forcing communities to share a beloved treasure they really don’t want to share.

But in each case? The vision for what a protected area is or should be or will be is rooted in that founding belief that parks were created for people – that they’re a public resource for public use.

That’s fine until you ask yourself this question: If parks are for people, what’s for nature?

“Environmental issues, environmental policy, protected areas: Animals can be ghosted in that.”

Barbara Cartwright is the CEO of Humane Canada and she believes there’s a disconnect in our society – we assume parks are for human recreation, but we also assume we’re doing right by wildlife because of the number of parks that exist in Canada.

“As Canadians, we think if we’re protecting this large acreage of land, then obviously the animals in it will do better. And we don’t realize we’re logging in there; we’re hunting in there.”

Here’s an example of what Barbara means: Even though national parks ban hunting, most provincial parks allow hunting – including most BC Parks, though not Mount Robson.  And provincial parks across the country account for the majority of Canada’s protected areas.

It’s why Barbara says “when we’re writing policy or thinking about protected areas or thinking about wilderness, (we need to ask) how are we going to ensure that the animals that are in that space going to have their best chance.”

And whether you agree or not – whether you think hunting should be allowed in all parks, to help more people connect to nature, or whether you believe parks should be sanctuaries where animals get to come first – the bigger point is this:

When we don’t understand the context of an issue, it’s hard to make the right decisions because we simply don’t have all the facts.

And in Canada, too few understand how our parks are managed or why – and even fewer can agree on why parks should exist; whether the founding principal still holds true or needs to be updated to match environmental realities.

That’s challenging for park managers trying to balance people and nature – cultural traditions and political realities.

It’s even more challenging when trying to understand where we stand on biodiversity – in Canada and beyond.

Worse still? In the absence of a common understanding or definition, division forms, explains Janet Austin.

“This is a challenge with the polarization of news. The echo chamber we see growing from technology and social media reinforces the biases that we have.”

Janet served as BC’s lieutenant governor and ran Vancouver’s YWCA. It’s work that has given her unique insight into the growing divides in our society that centre on cultural differences.

“I am increasingly concerned about the fragility of democracy. I think this is an extremely dangerous situation.”

As Janet explains, cultures do change, “but I do believe that cultural change takes time.”

It’s why some argue that, in this context – to speed up change and help more people get on the same page – we need to prioritize people in parks to save nature so they understand the connection between our daily reality and biodiversity.

After all, Dr. Kerry Bowman says, “we just don’t see how the pieces fit together at all. And there are many people in this country and in many Western countries that interact with the natural world in extremely minimal ways.”

Kerry is a medical ethicist with the University of Toronto and consults with governments, organizations and citizens the world-over who are grappling with debates just like this one. And it’s why Kerry knows this issue is more complex than just getting people to care about nature.

“It’s a tough balance. I think we have to take a long, hard look because what’s happening is that nature is being used, essentially, as a money maker and no real limits are being put on it.”

What to do? Kerry says “I’m very conflicted on this.”

If the right balance can’t be struck in Mount Robson, what will that mean for neighbouring parks, like Jasper, especially after the devastating fire of 2024?

That, of course, raises an even bigger question: If the balance is lost across the Rocky Mountain ecosystem, what will that mean for biodiversity nationally or globally?

As importantly, if too few get to experience nature, what will that mean for the politics of biodiversity? Or what happens if the balance struck doesn’t work for enough people? Will that just deepen wounds exposed by the pandemic, igniting issues of freedom and choice?

For an issue that should be simple, park stewardship is anything but. Perceptions and assumptions mix with differing realities – differing cultures – making easy answers elusive. And yet we must find answers.

How?

Well, sometimes before taking a step forward, we need to take another step back.