Reconnecting Conservatism and Conservation: A Call to Stewardship

The Untold Connection Between Conservation and Conservatism

For years, I stood as a progressive vegan chef in the bustling heart of Los Angeles, passionately advocating for the environment. My belief in the power of politics and regulation to safeguard our planet was unwavering. However, my journey took an unexpected turn when I transitioned from the kitchen to the farm, leading me down a path toward conservatism. This shift was not born from a diminishing concern for the environment; rather, it was my deepened commitment to it that reshaped my worldview.

There’s something profoundly transformative about walking the same pastures day in and day out. You learn to observe the subtle rhythms of nature—the return of birds in spring, the dwindling of creeks in the dry season, and the rejuvenation of soil over time. It is through this daily stewardship that a profound understanding of land emerges. As I tended to my fields, I learned that true stewardship belongs to those who live closest to the land.

The realization struck me: many of those making pivotal decisions regarding land management often lacked any meaningful relationship with it. My concern was never about their intentions, but rather the disconnect that existed between policymakers and the realities faced by those who depend on the land for their livelihood. Who, after all, should have more influence over land policy—those who’ve never set foot on it, or those who nurture it daily?

Interestingly, my knowledge of healthy ecosystems was not solely imparted by conservatives; it was a rich tapestry of voices. Yet, as I immersed myself deeper into agricultural life, I noticed a trend: the very individuals who were actively engaged in restoring grasslands, protecting water sources, and ensuring a sustainable future for their children were often conservatives. This correlation led me to question the apparent separation between conservation and conservatism. Perhaps they were always meant to be intertwined.

At its core, conservatism is about preserving what is good. It extends beyond political ideologies to encompass the preservation of families, faith, local communities, and the traditions that sustain civilization. But why should this preservation stop at the edge of our pastures? America’s farmers and ranchers have inherently understood this principle for generations.

A vast majority of those who work the land identify as conservative. They witness firsthand the challenges of declining water sources, eroding topsoil, and diminishing pollinator populations. Their lives, and the lives of their children, are inextricably linked to the health of the land they cultivate. They strive to leave it in a better state for future generations, understanding that their survival hinges on a thriving environment.

Yet, too often, environmental policies are crafted far removed from the landscapes they aim to protect. Well-meaning initiatives can lead to unintended consequences when they overlook the wisdom of those who live and work with these ecosystems daily. This disconnect poses a significant threat to effective conservation.

The solution is not to abandon conservation or those who champion it, but to bring it home—to integrate the principles of stewardship back into the fabric of our lives. The ancient command to “be fruitful and multiply” was historically intertwined with the imperative to care for the earth. A healthy populace relies on fertile soil, clean water, and abundant wildlife; these elements are not disparate issues but part of a singular crisis.

The emerging “Make America Healthy Again” movement seeks to reconnect these vital threads: healthy soil, nutritious food, vibrant communities, and thriving families. A civilization that neglects its land will inevitably struggle to regenerate itself.

Conservatives often speak passionately about preserving core values such as faith and family. Yet, these ideals cannot exist in a vacuum. Healthy families require nutritious food, clean water is essential for thriving communities, and productive farmland is crucial for national sustainability. If we believe that creation is a divine gift, then our stewardship of the earth is not just a duty—it is an act of gratitude.

The essence of conservatism extends beyond preserving abstract ideas; it encompasses the very conditions that allow civilization to flourish. What are we conserving if our fields can no longer yield food, our rivers suffer from pollution, and our children inherit a depleted world? The call to tend the garden and to be fruitful are not two distinct commands; they represent an inseparable narrative that has shaped humanity since time immemorial.