Who Owns the Wild? Reclaiming Our Right to Breathe, Be, and Belong in Nature
As fences rise across fields and wild places shrink under pressure, recent wins in the UK, US, and beyond remind us that the right to connect with nature is worth defending — not just for ourselves, but for the soul of the planet.
I remember the first time I felt shut out by nature.
I had just moved to the UK, and during my workdays, I would look for a quiet green spot to have lunch — somewhere to breathe, disconnect from the digital noise, and reconnect with something real. It turned out to be surprisingly difficult. Nearly every piece of land, even those that looked wild or open, was fenced, gated, or signposted in a way that made it clear: You’re not welcome here.
I once stopped at the edge of a field, sandwich in hand, simply to soak in the stillness and greenery. The next time I went back, a large metal gate had been installed — out of nowhere, in the middle of the countryside. I don’t even remember what the sign said, only the message it sent: You don’t belong here.
We talk so much about “getting back to nature”, but when you really try, you realise just how many barriers we’ve built — physical, legal, psychological — between ourselves and the wild.
The Wild Is Shrinking — and So Is Our Access
In so many places around the world, nature is treated not as a living system we’re part of, but as a commodity to own, enclose, and extract from. If it doesn’t belong to you — or if you don’t pay — you can’t enter. The right to simply be in a natural place is being eroded in real time.
We put up fences, gates, and invisible walls. We treat wildness as something to contain or “manage”, rather than to experience and be humbled by. We replace the value of open, untamed spaces with theme parks, curated gardens, or “natural retreats” you have to book online. We forget that just sitting quietly under a tree or beside a stream shouldn’t be a luxury. It’s a birthright.
Nature Belongs to All of Us — And We’re Starting to Remember
That’s why some recent legal victories hit home so deeply. They’re not just wins for conservation — they’re wins for reconnection, for freedom, for the fundamental idea that nature doesn’t have to be bought to be valued.
In the UK, the Supreme Court recently ruled that people have the right to wild camp on Dartmoor — even without landowner permission. This restored a long-standing tradition that had been under threat and was hailed by campaigners as a triumph for public access and the right to roam.
In the United States, a dangerous proposal to sell off public lands for private development was recently dropped from the so-called “Big Beautiful Bill”, after massive public backlash. It’s a huge win for people who believe that national parks, forests, and open lands should remain accessible to all — not carved up for profit.
And in California, the largest land-back deal in state history has just been finalised. Over 47,000 acres of ancestral territory are being returned to the Yurok Tribe, who have already announced plans to establish a salmon sanctuary and community forest — restoring a deep and sacred relationship between people and place.
These are glimpses of a better path — one that acknowledges the living spirit of the land and our place within it, not above it.
Indigenous Wisdom: Land Is Not Property — It Is Kin
For many Indigenous cultures, land is not something to own, but something to care for — a living relative, a teacher, a provider. As the Māori say, “Ko au te whenua, ko te whenua ko au” — I am the land, and the land is me. This isn’t poetic metaphor. It’s worldview. It’s law. It’s life.
Among the Yurok people, whose ancestral lands are finally being returned, there is no separation between environmental stewardship and cultural identity. Restoring the forest means restoring ceremony, restoring memory, restoring life.
As Robin Wall Kimmerer, author and Potawatomi ecologist, writes:
“What would it be like to be raised on gratitude, on reciprocity, on the understanding that the Earth is not a warehouse, but a gift?”
We desperately need to learn from this. Not just to protect what’s left of the wild, but to reclaim our own wildness — the part of us that thrives in open air, that knows silence as medicine, that longs for a slower, more rooted kind of belonging.
The Wild Is Not a Luxury — It’s a Necessity
In a world of constant digital connection, algorithms, and artificial everything, the need for real connection — to earth, to air, to trees and water and silence — has never been more vital. We are biological beings. And nature is not a nice-to-have. It’s a need-to-breathe.
The truth is: if we fence off every field, commercialise every view, and sell off the commons, we don’t just lose access to land. We lose a part of ourselves.
Pushing back. Protecting public lands. Supporting land back movements. It’s the same thing as fighting for the right to roam, to wander, to sit on a patch of grass without needing to ask permission.
Because in the end, wildness doesn’t just belong to us. We belong to it.