Nature Travelogues, 1920s–1970s: How State-Sponsored Cinema in Tasmania Shaped Conservationism

-National parks and other categories of protected areas are often assumed to enhance regional economic development due to park tourism. The current study attempts to estimate the impact of the Hohe Tauern national park (Austria) on tourism by exploring whether and to what extent the national park may have had an influence on tourism development. For most national park communities, the results suggest that the establishment of the national park had some impact by enforcing an already positive trend or by weakening or reversing a negative trend of tourism. However, breakpoint tests exhibit turning points up to several years after the establishment of the park, indicating that taking a national park as the basis for tourism development is a medium to long term development strategy. In the short term, the impact of a national park on tourism is not measurable. Tourism increased by 1 to 3% annually after the breakpoint, indicating that the establishment of a national park has to be incorporated into the tourism and development strategy of a region right from the start. The causal relationship between the establishment of the national park and tourism development may be weak, in particular in communities where the difference between the actual and the forecast numbers of overnight stays is small. Marketing national park tourism and building up a brand or distinctive label may therefore contribute to regional development particularly in the long term.Key words: Tourism, national park, protected area, time series, stationarity, breakpoint test, ARIMA.JEL classifications: R110, L830, C220.Parole chiave: Turismo, parco nazionale, area protetta, serie temporale, stazionarietŕ, test di breakpoint, ARIMA.

C onservation has a long history of bringing together diverse interests around a common cause. But “the conservation movement” is, of course, neither singular in what is to be conserved nor in the philosophical principles underpinning it. Here I attempt to explore some of the variations in conservation ethics that have made the conservation movement complex, compelling, and challenging to those involved. ### UNITED AND DIVIDED IN CONSERVATION One of the long-existing philosophical tensions within the conservation movement has been between a preservationist strain (with the objective of protecting resources, habitats, and species for their own sake) and a “use but use sustainably” strain (with the objective of conserving natural resources so that humans can continue to use them productively into the future). Such philosophical contrasts existed over a century ago as personified by John Muir and Gifford Pinchot. A number of environmental historians and philosophers (e.g., Miller 1991; Norton 1991; Katz 1996) have described the friendship and philosophical parting of ways between Muir and Pinchot. Muir founded the Sierra Club and is well known for his writings on wilderness preservation and for advocating the establishment of national parks. Pinchot was the first chief of the US Forest Service, …

Is a national park the way to save Taiwan's endangered cypress forest?

This research examines relationship between documentary film and history and evaluates role of documentary film about recording history. In 1977, director Suha ARIN shot a documentary film, “Time in Safranbolu” in a historical place that is famous for its traditional houses and famous for its historical objects in Anatolia in Turkey. The director devoted his film for history of people and remind people their history, and their valuable accumulations via his film and recorded all historical heritage on his film. Many historical accumulation can be chained via documentary film against destruction of time. Thousands of documentary films have been shot about social life, traditions, wars and art works, about historical remains and documents, about buildings, monuments and ceremonies, about wild nature, animals and plants and about human since Robert Flaherty shot “The Nanook of the North” in 1922. Documentary film always documents accumulation of people who tried to constitute a civilization since the beginning and as a historical role, documentary film conveys great accumulation of humanity to next.

In "Appalachian Coal Culture and the Residue of Fossil Capital, 1968-Present," I examine literary and visual representations of coal waste in contemporary American culture. Though much has been written on energy and culture, most energy humanities scholarship emphasizes the dominant social formations of a global petroculture, a perspective which emphasizes how this culture is maintained through financial markets and consumer practices. Little scholarly attention has been given to contemporary cultural formations in regions shaped by and through extractive industries. As a result, energy humanities scholarship often fails to account for the particular experiences of communities that have long fought against social inequality and for environmental justice, much less what such perspectives contribute to human understanding of a world that rapidly warms. <br> <br>I consider coal waste products such as slurry, ash, and acid mine drainage as important social processes that reproduce fossil capital. By treating waste as both product and process, I demonstrate that coal waste is a significant material force that devalues people, communities, and environments in extractive regions such as Appalachia. By engaging with documentary film, fiction, photography, studio art, and landscape design, I argue that expressions of coal waste enable audiences to see the material, social, and historical structures of fossil capital. Across these cultural texts, coal waste connects similar experiences of environmental violence across time and place. In works like the documentary film Sludge, Ann Pancake’s novel Strange as this Weather Has Been, J Henry Fair’s photography project Industrial Scars, John Sabraw’s painting series Chroma, and the AMD &amp; Art acid mine drainage reclamation project, I show that coal waste permeates local identity and historical memory. By situating Appalachia’s particular experience of fossil capital in the context of the need for a global energy transition, my dissertation illuminates the crucial intersection of energy, waste, and contemporary environmental criticism.<br><br>

Why teach Pennsylvania environmental history? How can teachers use it to improve students' understanding of the history of the state, the region, and the nation? I have found through my teaching at West Chester University that environmental history grounds American history in the physical realities upon which human history unfolds: the natural resource bases, both renewable and nonrenewable, that all societies use to construct their economies, cultures, and political systems. Recognizing this grounding, students can better understand the complex world in which they live, and thus better respond to the challenges they will face as citizens and consumers.

PurposeThe purpose of this study is to provide a harmonisation framework for the diverse accounting practices by extractive industries.Design/methodology/approachThe study takes a three-stage approach. The first involves a comprehensive literature review of the historical evolution of accounting regulations by extractive industries. The second involves constructing an accounting practice index for extractive industries. The third involves constructing a harmonisation framework.FindingsThe accounting practice index provides empirical evidence of the wide diversity of accounting practices by extractive industries. Analysis of the literature review addresses the several attempts by accounting and regulatory bodies to standardise the diverse practices of accounting by extractive industries and reasons for the lack of successful standardisations. The authors extract lessons from these previous attempts and propose a harmonisation framework.Research limitations/implicationsThe proposed harmonisation framework can be used to align together the diverse accounting practices by extractive industries and enhance comparability and consistency of accounting figures and statements produced by these industries. Harmonising the diverse accounting practices is crucial for investment decision-making.Originality/valueThe harmonisation framework is the first of its kind that could enhance the comparability of accounts of extractive industries’ firms and be used to harmonise diverse accounting practices by other industries.

The history of conservation in Latin America offers insights into the dramatic environmental transformations the region has undergone, particularly in the twentieth century. Sterling Evans’s Green Republic explores the history of conservation in Costa Rica, with an emphasis on environmental policy. While journalists, policymakers, and others have pointed to Costa Rica as a model of conservation policy, Evans questions whether it is appropriate to call Costa Rica a “green republic.” Using a wide range of sources, including interviews, archives, and newspapers, Evans paints a complex and nuanced picture of how conservation emerged in twentieth-century Costa Rica.Costa Rica’s exemplary and well-publicized conservation projects have emerged as a response to an equally dramatic but less well-known process of environmental destruction. Between 1950 and 1990, Costa Rica lost 65 percent of its forest cover. The causes of this deforestation included the expansion of export agriculture (particularly bananas and coffee), cattle ranching, and forestry. Government programs to distribute land to landless peasants (precaristas) also inadvertently promoted forest destruction. Evans argues that Costa Rica, like many other countries in Latin America, has faced an “agricultural dilemma” in which policymakers try to balance the drive for agricultural development with the need for environmental conservation.Part 1, “Costa Rica’s History of Conservation,” traces the emergence of conservation policy in Costa Rica as a response to this agricultural dilemma. Until the 1950s, most conservation policy in Costa Rica was ad hoc. The government created a few national parks, and some wildlife conservation agencies. Several conservation laws had been decreed in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries, but they were never adequately enforced. Evans argues that the key turning point in Costa Rica’s conservation policy was the Ley Forestal of 1969. The law did not improve the problem of deforestation overnight—indeed, some of Costa Rica’s worst deforestation happened after the law had passed—but it did provide the basis for later conservationist action.The centerpiece of Costa Rica’s official conservation programs was its system of national parks. This system was the brainchild of Mario Boza, an energetic Costa Rican naturalist who worked for the government. Boza began building the system of national parks during the 1960s and 1970s, with the political backing of international conservation groups and influential Costa Ricans such as Karen Olsen de Figueres, the wife of the president. His projects bore fruit, and conservation efforts in Costa Rica continued unabated even through the economic crisis of the late 1970s and early 1980s. Government agencies became more entrepreneurial, soliciting funding from international organizations such as the Sierra Club and the World Wildlife Federation. In the late 1980s, the national park system underwent a “philosophical change in strategy,” that emphasized incorporating national parks and preserves into the nation’s larger socioeconomic context. Once again, Costa Rica’s fiscal problems were turned into a conservation oppor tunity, through the “debt for nature swap” programs that allowed Costa Rica to write off parts of its foreign debt in return for placing more lands under conservation.The chapters of part 2, “Building a Green Republic,” explore other forces that promoted conservation in Costa Rica. Environmental education at all levels has contributed to forming a rudimentary environmental ethic in Costa Rica, although Evans questions how deeply rooted it is. Costa Rican and foreign non-governmental organizations have played an increasingly important role in promoting conservation through research, training, grassroots activism, and legislation. Ecotourism took off during the 1980s and 1990s, bringing the hoped-for economic boom to Costa Rica. But it has become such a success that it threatens to harm the very flora and fauna that attract the visitors in the first place. Costa Ricans have also organized a national institute for biodiversity (InBio), to do a survey of Costa Rica’s biological resources.While Costa Rica is not the “ecotopia” that many people claim, Evans argues that it has enjoyed a number of short-term conservation successes. This lucid and thoughtful work will be useful to historians and policymakers, and as a textbook for graduate and undergraduate courses on agriculture, development, and conservation in Latin America.

National parks are vital institutions for conserving biodiversity and preserving biocultural heritage that safeguard exceptional natural resources and sustain key cultural ecosystem services (CESs), such as aesthetic appreciation, nature-based recreation, and environmental education. However, the essentially subjective and intangible characteristics of CESs are obstacles to effectively collecting data and measuring their diverse values. This study developed a supply-support-demand framework for analyzing nature-based tourism in national parks, using Giant Panda National Park, one of China's earliest national parks, as the case study site for the years 2009-2023. To investigate the impact of national park establishment, we employed a difference-in-differences (DID) approach to assess its effects on counties within national parks. We found that tactile and visual impressions play a key role in shaping visitors' experiences, whereas olfactory, gustatory, and auditory perceptions exhibit cooccurring, supportive influences on visual and tactile impressions, as revealed through the rich expressions captured in social interactions. The establishment of national parks has the potential to enhance nature-based tourism experiences by increasing local fiscal expenditure and expanding the tourism industry. The effects exhibit clear regional heterogeneity and differences in policy intensity. At the regional level, Sichuan and Shaanxi, regions with relatively stronger infrastructure and resource endowments, show better improvement in nature-based tourism experiences, whereas Gansu shows an insignificant effect. In terms of policy intensity, stronger interventions are accompanied by stricter ecological protection constraints. As a result, the improvement in nature-based tourism experiences is significantly greater in the low-intensity policy group than in the high-intensity policy group.

The article deals with the unity of the national cultural heritage and historical time in Kazakh documentary films. The purpose of the article is to analyze the features of the use of time in the depiction of the spiritual world, national customs and traditions in the films of documentary film masters OrazAbishev, BakhytGafu-Kaiyrbekov and others. Based on the formal stylistic method, the significance of historical time in documentary films is explored. The author, considering the unity of the national cultural heritage and historical time in the Kazakh documentary, concludes that in the Kazakh documentary film, the reflection of the unity of the national cultural heritage and historical time has gone through several stages of formation, and was closely connected with the social, political phenomena taking place in the country. In conclusion, the stages of the formation of Kazakh documentary cinema are listed from the point of view of reflecting historical time and it is argued that: 1) the first stage is associated with the establishment of Soviet power in Kazakhstan, with the ideology and politics of socialism (1927–1930); 2) the second stage is connected with the reflection of people's memory and history on the documentary film screen in the conditions of the political, social atmosphere of Kazakhstan in the 1960s (1960–1970); 3) the third stage reflects the processes of returning to the origins of national consciousness, people's historical memory (1990–2020).

This thesis is an examination of Louisville Times editor Tom Wallace's fight to prevent the construction of a hydroelectric dam at Cumberland Falls, Kentucky between 1926 and 1931. By mining Wallace's recently cataloged personal papers, this study provides a narrative of Wallace's lead role in the campaign that resulted in the preservation of Cumberland Falls and the establishment of a state park on the site in 1931. More importantly, however, as a case study of conservation activism during the understudied period from late 1920s and early 1930s, this thesis illustrates how Wallace developed certain arguments and strategies that were especially effective in confronting the social, political, and cultural currents of the era. As this thesis argues, Wallace's activism highlights a transitional and creative period in the conservation movement's history. By crafting and disseminating arguments in direct response to emerging trends like the consumer economy, the rise in auto tourism and recreation, and the growing public distrust for power trusts and lobbyists, Wallace's activism mobilized a number of interests previously untapped by conservation activists. For this reason, his preservation campaign succeeded at Cumberland Falls at a time when conservation activism waned at the national level. The thesis is divided into five sections, an introduction and four chapters. The introduction situates the Cumberland Falls episode in the broader context of conservation history and considers the historiography of the conservation movement. In addition, it outlines Wallace's arguments and strategies during the Falls campaign and explores why his campaign was ultimately successful. Chapter one has two main objectives. First it provides a brief history of Cumberland Falls prior to the controversy. Second, it considers Wallace's background leading up to the episode. The remaining chapters examine Wallace's role in the complex chain of events that culminated in the preservation of the Falls in 1931. The final chapter also briefly discusses Wallace's rise to prominence and his evolution as a conservationist in the wake of the Cumberland Falls campaign.

Drawing from literature on social movements, we investigate how movements in uncertain political contexts can challenge extractive and natural resource–intensive industries such as coal companies. Scholars have analyzed how citizens in Western democracies can confront powerful industries, yet comparatively little research has focused on challenges to coal elites in politically unstable settings. We focus on the community of Libkovice, Czech Republic, to examine how anticoal activists strategically protested against a coal industry in the midst of a transition from state control to corporate ownership. The data for this research were collected between 2000 and 2014, including in-depth interviews, documentary and raw organizational film footage, and archival materials. Findings reveal that ambiguous targets and uncertain political contexts can significantly influence how activists develop tactical repertoires. We conclude by discussing the implications of this research for future work on social movements generally and citizen efforts to challenge powerful extractive industries.

Pursuing a regional approach to history puts twenty-first-century historians in the strange position of unconsciously echoing their nineteenth-century predecessors, though with differing goals. When historian Frederick Jackson Turner pronounced the Mid-Atlantic region “typically American,” he was of course intent upon divining an elusive national character, not currently a goal of historians. But Turner's frontier thesis emphasized geography and region in a way that would still be recognizable to environmental historians today. For example, Turner's observations concerning the Mid-Atlantic region hinged upon the physical geography of place, property ownership, and use of land. He noted that the Mid-Atlantic was a doorway for emigrants from all of Europe, who “entered by New York harbor” and were then intermixed; that the residents were “rooted in material prosperity” based on the land; and that the region, “with no barriers to shut out its frontiers from its settled regions, and with a system of connecting waterways,” was uniquely situated as a mechanism for the admixture of peoples. In this way, the Mid-Atlantic served as a microcosm of Turner's conception of the frontier as a churning machine that intermingled people from regions and nations to create an essentially American temperament.1Putting aside the intent behind Turner's “typically American” label, it is still possible to apply that judgment to the environmental history of the Mid-Atlantic. The region possesses the most significant concentration of urban centers in the nation, a long history of extractive industry, the legacies of early water-powered industrialization, and the remnants of some of the worst pollution disasters in American history. Along with those built environments, the region contains extensive forests with a long history of human management, complex river systems and bays, diverse colonial and pre-Columbian pasts, agricultural systems both past and current, and biological complexity in fields, forests, rivers, mountains, and shores. This diversity does not make the region unique—but it does mean that almost all of the major themes of environmental history appear in the places roughly bounded by the Atlantic, the 36th parallel, the western edge of the Appalachians, and the northern reaches of the Adirondacks.The environmental matters covered in this article have long been under discussion by scholars, but the emergence of the Marcellus shale issue has served to refocus attention on these topics, some of which had seemed to slip at least slightly from the attention of the field of environmental history. I am particularly interested in two intertwined approaches: environmental history that details the politics, policy, and popular consciousness that shape decisionmaking; and environmental history that explores the impacts of those decisions on nature and landscapes. I refer to these approaches as the history of modern environmental politics and the history of human impact on place. The distinction here lies in what the scholar initially sets out to study: (a) a political process, philosophy, or force by which environmental decisions are made, or (b) a place, landscape, topic, or species that may be transformed by those decisions. Despite this attempt at differentiation, much of the environmental history of the region remains intertwined: no matter the locale, tugging at any thread in the weave of environmental issues eventually pulls on the entire mess. Whether by examining politicians, activists, legislatures, cities, markets, corporations, landscapes, forests, or fish, the histories examined in this essay demonstrate that studying environmental topics in the Mid-Atlantic region involves a bewildering welter of forces and effects, no matter the label.Multiple works published in the last decade have focused on individual politicians or historical actors with connections to the Mid-Atlantic, with the goal of explaining their connections to larger issues in environmental politics. Char Miller produced an early example of this with his work on Gifford Pinchot, arguing that the first chief of the U.S. Forest Service “was at the forefront of those seeking international agreements to check environmental devastation.” From an outdoorsy rest cure in the Saranac Lake region of upstate New York to the managed forests of the family's “summer castle” in Milford, Pennsylvania, Miller continually links the peripatetic Pinchot to the Mid-Atlantic region.2 Similarly, Thomas G. Smith's Green Republican and J. Brooks Flippen's Conservative Conservationist attempt to explain how Republican politics were once connected to the roots of environmentalism in a way rarely seen today. Flippen locates some of Republican attorney and EPA administrator Russell Train's conservationist impulses in a personal attachment to his farm on Maryland's Eastern Shore, while Smith connects Congressman John Saylor's political action to his personal experience of nature in western Pennsylvania.3This attempt to interpret individual actors as bellwethers of larger events also frames recent studies of liberalism. A recent article by Peter Siskind on Nelson Rockefeller, for example, concludes that he “proved the most powerful and influential governor in the nation during the 1960s era, and New York continued in the vanguard of social policy experimentation.” As such, “the unfolding of racial and environmental politics explored here reveal important facets of the evolution of and tensions within post–World War II American liberalism at the state and local level.” In a similar vein, Adam M. Sowards's The Environmental Justice details the life and evolving environmental ethic of the politically active Supreme Court Justice William O. Douglas, complete with stories of his hearty and physically demanding outdoorsy life, and his mid-1950s public defense of the Chesapeake and Ohio Path in Maryland.4It is obvious that many historians have chosen biographies of individual political figures as a means to narrate historical change in the politics of the environment, but there are a few scholars with the even larger goal of narrating transformations in philosophy and culture. Ben Minteer takes this approach when arguing that Benton MacKaye's cofounding of the Wilderness Society, his writings, and his commitment to creating the Appalachian Trail justifies elevating him into the company of great environmentalist writers such as Lewis Mumford and Aldo Leopold. Similarly, Char Miller's immensely readable biography also argues that Pinchot's “conviction that the power of politics and government … must be employed to expand the benefits of democracy to those often excluded from civic life remains an article of faith among contemporary progressives.” Along the same lines, Adam M. Sowards declares that in increasing public involvement in resource management, Justice Douglas and the larger conservation movement “democratized conservation [as] part of a larger reform process to open up the process of governing.”5These works demonstrate that using the examples of individual actors may certainly be a fruitful route for historians to portray larger stories of environmental politics, but the increasing availability of the archival records of environmental organizations also offers a new path to the same end. Frank Uekoetter's The Age of Smoke compares air pollution control policy in Germany and the United States, with much of the focus on Pittsburgh. Uekoetter ends up analyzing eras of cooperation and confrontation in policymaking, concluding that “the age of smoke emerges as even more crucial: never before or since was the nation-state so well suited to defining and enforcing codes of acceptable conduct and creating institutions to that effect.” My own Citizen Environmentalists fits into this category. This project sifted newly available archival records to more closely examine Pittsburgh's environmental policy in the 1960s and 1970s.6 Dyana Furmansky's 2009 Rosalie Edge, Hawk of Mercy, demonstrates how new archival sources both create and complicate new narratives of movements history. “Before Rachel Carson, Rosalie Edge was the nation's premier example of how one person could wed science to public advocacy for the preservation and restoration of the wide natural world,” writes Furmansky, but it was only through using letters and materials from the Hawk Mountain Sanctuary in Pennsylvania, uncatalogued before 1999, that the author could tell this story.7Possibly the best example of a new scholarly focus on political activism within the narrative of a well-known topic comes from Elizabeth Blum's Love Canal Revisited, which re-examines the famous incident through archival records of a variety of environmental groups, producing a topical analysis distinct from that previously offered by the historical actors involved. Shifting the attention from the story of the individual activist displays the complexity of issues, ending with the argument that “environmental activism can be used to measure the acceptance of other social movements and general ideas about race, class, and gender by different groups over time.” Along the way, Blum calls our attention to the multiplicity and complexity of activist groups at Love Canal, extending the story from Lois Gibbs's Love Canal Homeowners Association to include the Ecumenical Task Force and the Concerned Love Canal Renters Association, and placing all of this in context with the contemporaneous group Women Strike for Peace. Re-examining a well-known story through newly available archival sources has yielded a very different history of environmental activism and its meaning.8While neglected overall, activism as a subject of inquiry is still at the center of many historians' work, including Olga Polmar on New Jersey's toxic heritage and unequal distribution of risk, and Heather Fenyk and David Guston on citizen activism and wetlands in Maryland.9 Michael Egan has attempted to locate models for environmental activism in nineteenth-century New York's battles over regulating milk for public health purposes, starting with the undeniably engaging declaration that “this essay is a fraud.” With the reader's attention firmly in hand, he explains that “this essay is a fraud, because it trades on the anachronistic notion that the urban reformers who pushed for quality control and public health were early environmentalists.” Still, he continues, such a mental trick is useful in understanding the roots of activism.10 Explorations of environmental activism can occur in studies of a bewildering array of environmental issues: in thinking about the sources and shapes of popular environmental protest, scholars have explored topics ranging from activists' attempts to ban logging altogether in the Allegheny Forest, to reconstruction of the devastated Nine Mile Run in Pittsburgh, to activism and real estate in New York, and to the century-long battles over development and industry on the Hudson River.11Whether concerned with an individual political actor or a group of activists, the histories of involvement in environmental politics are highly dependent on the available sources. While new sources are prompting revision, a lack of archival documents has left obvious gaps in our narratives of twentieth-century environmentalism. For example, activism that grew in response to nuclear power and weapons seems to have been barely scratched, with Thomas Peterson's book on local activism in Allegany County, New York, a rare example that demonstrates further opportunity for work. It seems odd that antinuclear activism can be such a major part of European Green politics and yet receive fairly little attention in the United States, with several major clashes in the region remaining unexamined by historians using archival sources. For example, further research is needed on Ralph Nader's Critical Mass, a mid-1960s national antinuclear group based in Washington, DC. Other organizations and nuclear plants remain unexamined, including the Indian River site on the Hudson, the Calvert Cliffs site in Maryland, and the formation of the Shad Alliance in opposition to the Shoreham site on Long Island. Calvert Cliffs seems particularly promising for future research, with late-1960s opposition to the site leading to an important 1971 federal case testing the boundaries of the new National Environmental Policy Act.12While the histories of environmental politics discussed in the previous section start with individual politicians, activists, political battles, or organizations, the works in the next category seem to focus on a place and subsequently examine the impact of changing policies on that subject. The works grouped below begin with a locale, landscape, flora, fauna, ecosystem, or region as a subject. By necessity, they also include explorations of the attempts of institutions, organizations, and governments to choose and pursue a certain path in relation to that subject.There are a few trends among these works on the national level. For example, it has become standard practice for environmental historians to adopt a city or a region as a topic, with prominent examples dealing with Seattle, Boston, and St. Louis. The particular advantage here is the opportunity to narrate the long-term impacts of changing policy on a specific environment. Matthew Klingle's account of Seattle, for instance, shows the human alteration of land and water that latecomers to the city might assume were natural formations, while Michael Rawson demonstrates the surprising interplay of science, politics, and culture in fashioning both the city of Boston—built in large measure from landfill—and the expectations of its inhabitants.13Another scholarly trend is the way that environmental historians have been pulled into newly invigorated discussions of the developing powers and responsibilities of governments in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries. Following William Novak, many scholars outside of environmental history are describing a complex evolution of conflicting and competing forces within a multilayered and occasionally contradictory American state. These historians question the traditionally derided weakness of federal government in the nineteenth century. Many explore the foundations of private property, the police power to infringe upon that property, and alternative locations of power within municipal, civic, or voluntary institutions.14 This has obvious implications for those who are writing histories of human impacts on the environment. A 2012 article by Jessica Wang that is ostensibly about dogs and animal control in New York City, for instance, actually ends up being an example of “one of innumerable areas of everyday public policy in which voluntary associations continue to wield police power, perform public functions, and exercise state authority alongside formally constituted governmental agencies.”15 These words could clearly apply to hundreds of different conservation agencies, sportsmen's groups, county foresters, and state departments of natural resources.Within the Mid-Atlantic, choosing to write about a region, watershed, or metropolitan area can the and impact of government the for example, is a that an wide array of to on the complex at the of the The of this work both with and from their concluding that “the Chesapeake story is a for those who would to on the of a very or understanding of the way the a long of on fish, and William the concluding essay for the that are as many of the past of the Chesapeake as there are and scholars to The here the of any government or decisions based on an understanding of the physical on a the other recent works have attempted the same of analysis on the state and metropolitan with an on government New Jersey's on both the natural and the of the region that have in an that New important for understanding the twentieth-century and their natural Similarly, on and its and the the use of power to or that who from that produced environmental and who the health and on race, class, and work is also to scholars outside of the field of environmental and ends with a essay from that all historians of environmental activism on the of these David The of New York attention in the category of regional environmental While it does not extensive new research, it is a argument for the of regional environmental to a general or it is possible that many could be examined in this way, in history While still that the of human using as a category of argues that boundaries often are the physical boundaries of even more that policies have in environmental and in New York the state as a him to examine the specific and long-term physical impacts of state policy on forests, air and urban or preservation of forests, and to be a popular topic for historians. historians have focused on the forests of the Mid-Atlantic region in the last including on and in on and on New York's David on the on activism and the and on the in Many of these are concerned with and preservation and the powers and of organizations and with those project is as argues for the of and New policies in the early twentieth the state of Appalachian forests today. is of the of conservation in New York, an approach that to the that early also how the human and natural of a were to be these there is also significant work on the the of New York and New and in the of process by which private or public into has been particular in the of state and This is a subject that explores in his on the Allegheny while at a popular also G. on the political battles groups, private property and state and federal Similarly, Adam Sowards's The Environmental Justice an of the over the Chesapeake and Ohio Canal into a national This in the a prominent for Mid-Atlantic as it the to nature in places were The over often larger policy to who declares that examining the complex history of the Appalachian Trail of the complex conservation and social of water that the Mid-Atlantic seem to have significant attention from scholars, particularly in attempts to explain policy This of takes this approach in Long Similarly, The and examine the histories of Maryland's and battles environmental groups, the industry, and are also of particular with and David works on the River as to a more obvious example of John New York's River as one of its case studies of the of actually an essay that explores both the of urban water policy and a regional understanding of urban environmental David has built on a long of historical writing about New York water the development of the water system from the nineteenth through the the of a regional approach to urban echoing William and Matthew and have all about the and the and environmental legacies of that as with its natural the extensive systems its and past and the impact of political of to historians of the are the in which in the nineteenth had and often on a of and As writes in an of system of water a new built that the emergence of a in the of both and Peter have situated and the of the Canal with the formation of the modern American state. As puts the history of the demonstrates a the of the United as a power and as a in the and focus on the of the private the of federal and state action in the This is as an history by seemed to a in a multiplicity of to the over as to significant urban the Mid-Atlantic would seem to many more for ranging from metropolitan to the of in the and of the Hudson River air pollution is also of to historians studying a region that was once the center of and is still to its urban These historians often out that the impact of air pollution is rarely about the it also the larger and of As David writes about smoke the and could which of urban such as and and which such as the of private property and private and have all on air pollution topics in New York City, Pittsburgh, and the pollution and its control is clearly a significant topic of research, but New York and there is work on the topic, with the possible of Mile of from water to air to the built has significant attention in the The Mid-Atlantic was the of the first and the area is with for historical analysis of the and impact of The topic is immensely at the municipal, and all to the and of and historical subject of the twentieth century. Adam emphasized the of in his work The in the on the New locates a powerful and a activism that from major As he “the was a in a in public in a of private and public many other scholars have examining of in New The of is one of works in that has a book on Pittsburgh's while works on and to topic a decade has an of on that explores the racial and of as have environmental so to or control The impacts of those and policies on and are clearly an area of The Mid-Atlantic has produced significant on extractive industry, with and and being offers into the impact on and culture of an that nineteenth-century that as well as the their very of the its and how those be managed and has examined the of state in producing different in the of nineteenth-century and arguing that the evolution of impacts of major extractive industry in these histories of and make it surprising that has so little for this and political By and in have been the of and many to the and local response in historical For example, while with a land ethic that with also that the region was a for opposition and policy was in the Appalachian that the first state and a for federal of the and had such major is as a to historians because it takes place essay with a to Frederick Jackson Turner and his that the Mid-Atlantic was the one “typically American” region in the historians are not of but there is an of his of politics and place in the works As a regional Turner many of the of historians interested in environmental politics and his thesis on the of upon defining regions by physical and with the of industry, and resource by that and these topics once recent studies of the Mid-Atlantic noted this significant for further work in the region The environmental twentieth-century with topics to the activism of the environmental movement has left explored by scholars in environmental or political but by environmental historians. As such, there are important gaps in the to histories of environmental organizations and The the Mile and the the Shoreham nuclear power in more histories through archival and about Marcellus and the of for histories of land in New York and work on the history of antinuclear activism is as new have been in 2012 for the first nuclear plants to be built in the United since Mile has other western nations to from nuclear of specific also seem at least by environmental has a story as complex as the Hudson has as many stories to tell as the the metropolitan of the Eastern a regional and the subject of could be as as The of from power plants the forests, and of the region for a and to international attention in the and but the subject has not yet been explored through archival sources. 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In this deeply researched monograph, the author explores the relationship between environmental risk, transnational extractive industries, and grassroots efforts to claim and practice citizenship in the Andes. International extractive projects in the Peruvian Andes have increased, following the shift toward neoliberal policies in the 1990s and the slow evolution of environmental regulations. These projects are often welcomed by the state and local communities, driven by the widely held belief that they will contribute to “development,” a promise often echoed by transnational companies but one that conjures different images at national, regional, and local levels. Vladimir R. Gil Ramón focuses on the Antamina project initiated in 1996 in Ancash Department near the Huascarán National Park. The book traces the development of the project, skillfully considering the logics of the state, the transnational corporation in charge of the project, several Andean communities, and nongovernment organizations (NGOs) and international bodies that became involved as investors or were drawn into disputes over the environmental consequences of the project design. Ultimately, the author argues that efforts by local communities to demand compensation and mitigation of environmental degradation constitute claims to citizenship and the right to participation, challenging both the state's virtual absence and the rhetoric of “corporate social responsibility.”The first chapter lays the groundwork for the reader to understand the Antamina project, its relations with the state, its transnational networks and investors, and the underlying logics that shaped its interaction with local communities and with other interested parties (such as the World Bank and environmental NGOs). It also establishes the importance of the environmental impact assessment (EIA), meant to establish the criteria for assessing socioenvironmental impact yet a product of privatized transnational networks closely linked to the extractive industries. The EIA legitimized the mining project while minimizing local participation in decision-making, a factor that the author identifies as central to social sustainability. The second chapter considers the conflicts related to the relocation of affected populations. Based on previous experience and the expectation of steady employment, local communities sold land to the mine in the hope of initiating a reciprocal relationship. In contrast, the mine's corporate culture was impersonal and professional, basing land transactions on rates determined at the time of sale. The local communities' unmet expectations laid the foundation for future confrontations by undermining trust between the two sides.The third chapter, perhaps the book's most intriguing, follows the conflicts over plans to construct a road through the Huascarán National Park to transport ore. Here the company met with resistance from local communities as well as NGOs concerned for the park's fragile environments. The demand for participation and the status of the land helped broaden the networks of those who opposed the road, creating international pressure on the Antamina project to pivot toward a subterranean pipeline. This connection of NGOs and investors produced fruitful dialogue, applied pressure at a crucial phase in the project's development, and helped temporarily level the playing field between local interests and those of the mine. The fourth chapter considers the development myths that influence the state, the company, and local communities in their ongoing relationship. Preference for a “great work” emerged out of the expectation of reciprocity—particularly in the form of employment—which the mine's labor regime left unmet. The final chapter explores the conflicts between the power of state and mine authorities and the knowledge of local communities. Both sets of actors held differing definitions of environmental risk and the valuation for compensation. Through community claims regarding the impact on their environment, local actors developed a clearer understanding of their rights and connection to the state.This is an excellent case study of the conflicts that can emerge between Indigenous and vulnerable populations and extractive industries, as well as the international networks of financing and regulation that shape these conflicts. The text also documents how unexpected connections can produce effective results—as when the Mountain Institute connected environmental concerns to the investors of the Antamina project. The book speaks to the context of the Peruvian Andes, approaching debates over environmental degradation as instances of cultural conflict. The text is at its best when it demonstrates the intersection between the uniquely local and the homogenized transnational, presenting circumstances at once singular and yet broadly recognizable to scholars of the Andes. Another strength is the author's mastery of legal, economic, and anthropological literatures in addition to an impressive base of primary sources and interviews. Despite the prose's occasional density, the book will find a ready audience among scholars and graduate students interested in the strategies available for defending vulnerable environments and populations.

This article discusses the tasks and features of the organization of nature parks within the boundaries of the Baikal Natural Territory, the phenomenon of which is reflected in Russia’s only federal law of a natural site, Lake Baikal, a UNESCO World Natural Heritage Site and the main purpose of which implies not only natural environment conservation but also a further development of the infrastructure ensuring visits to natural sites. It is found that the category of protected natural areas of a regional significance, “nature parks”, meets best the aforementioned objectives. An overview of international experience of the establishment of regional nature parks is presented. A classification of nature parks has been carried out, which subdivides them into three conditional groups according to the distance from large settlements, the location relative to the other protected areas, the type of visitors, the quality and level of visited natural, cultural and historical sites as well as the state of the environment. The situation with the dragging out the establishment of new nature parks within the Baikal Natural Territory is discussed, in spite of the numerous initiatives and the previously prepared ecological-geographical substantiations for them. Only one nature park, Ivano-Arakhleiskii, has been established within the boundaries of the Baikal Natural Territory, and a further two parks, Shumak and Arei, are located in the vicinity of the boundaries of this territory. It is concluded that, in view of high anthropogenic pressures on the coast of Lake Baikal, they will provide access to the other natural territories by establishing the necessary infrastructure thus “drawing” to them the excessively great interest in the lake coast. This paper presents a list of 25 nature parks within the Baikal Natural Territory. Three nature parks in Irkutsk oblast: Nature Park of the City of Angarsk (the Angarskii and Usol’skii administrative districts), Vityaz’ (Shelekhovskii district) and Okunaiskii (Swan Lakes) (Kazachinsko-Lenskii district) located in the ecological zone of atmospheric influence of the Baikal Natural Territory, are used as an example to show their place in the suggested classification and the characteristic of the organization of future protected areas.