“Wild Future: How We Can Have Hope for Nature in the 21st Century” A review of Mark Cocker’s talk for Hen Harrier Action at Poole’s Cavern Visitor Centre, Buxton, on 14th October 2025

Mark Cocker opened his talk by recalling that when he submitted his book “Our Place” – a review of conservation efforts over the last hundred and fifty years – his editor described the book as depressing. Yet, in his talk (sponsored by Hen Harrier Action) as part of the celebration for Hen Harrier Day, Cocker shared an uplifting, far more optimistic perspective, emphasising the real potential for renewal.

To introduce his subject, Mark set the scene by discussing the earliest attempts to prioritise nature, beginning with the protests against the enclosures of the commons in the 19th century. At the time, it was widely believed that before human intervention, the UK was covered in trees, forming a vast, continuous primordial forest. According to this theory, a squirrel could swing from branch to branch all the way from John O’Groats to Land’s End.

The received wisdom was that humans created biodiversity by clearing the land. Conservation tried to freeze landscapes, often preserving cultural heritage at the expense of sustainable ecosystems. Pollen analysis, however, showed much of

the original landscape was covered in oak and birch pollen, complicating the image of an unbroken forest.

Building upon these shifting perspectives, Frans Vera, a Dutch ecologist, proposed the wood-pasture hypothesis (or megaherbivore theory), arguing that open and semi-open pastures, rather than just primordial forests, dominated post-glacial temperate Europe.

For this landscape to evolve, plant-animal interdependence is crucial. Nature, including humans, forms a complex web where all is interconnected. Removing one species can harm the entire ecosystem.

Efforts to replicate Vera’s theories have taken place at Knepp, Sussex, where formerly farmed land was left to regenerate without artificial fertilisers or chemicals, leading to unexpected outcomes.

As they write on their website:

“Knepp’s ethos is to enable natural processes instead of aiming for any goals or outcomes. Free-roaming grazing animals — cattle, ponies, pigs and deer — drive this process-led regeneration. They act as proxies for herbivores that would have grazed the land thousands of years ago. Their different grazing preferences are creating a mosaic of habitats — from grassland and scrub to open-grown trees and wood pasture.

Knepp has seen extraordinary increases in wildlife since rewilding began. Scarce species such as turtle doves, nightingales, peregrine falcons and purple emperor butterflies are now breeding here. Populations of more common species are rocketing.”

In contrast to Knepp’s inspiring natural regeneration, much of Northern England’s uplands remain managed for monoculture. Yet, these landscapes hold the potential to support thriving wildlife communities alongside traditional activities. While the focus is now on creating plenty of Red Grouse for the wealthy few to shoot, positive change could see a balance where more species are welcomed back, including the persecuted Hen Harriers.

Despite the results seen at Knepp, wilding has struggled to gain credibility. It is considered controversial by some because it fundamentally challenges the

established economic and cultural relationship between humans and the landscape. The primary opposition stems from farming communities, who fear the loss of productive agricultural land and the threat to livestock and livelihoods posed by the reintroduction of large predators like the lynx or wolf. Ethically, critics cite concerns over animal welfare, arguing that the strategy of minimal human intervention can lead to extreme suffering and starvation in unmanaged populations. Moreover, the shift from a traditionally managed, manicured countryside to a “messy” natural state is often perceived as an erasure of cultural heritage and a threat to established rural aesthetics, fostering division even within the conservation sector over funding priorities and ecological goals.

Nonetheless, as projects like Knepp demonstrate, the biodiversity benefits are undeniable. Building on these insights, Cocker emphasised the importance of entanglement and our interdependence within nature.

He highlighted the concept of the “wood wide web,” using mycelium as a prime example. This vast, subterranean network of fungal roots serves as the Earth’s primary biological infrastructure, fundamentally driving the interconnectedness of terrestrial ecosystems.

Mycelium plays two essential roles in ecosystems. First, it acts as a master decomposer, using powerful enzymes to break down tricky organic matter like lignin and cellulose, recycling vital nutrients—carbon, nitrogen, and phosphorus—back into the soil. Second, mycelium forms mycorrhizal networks with 90% of plant roots, exchanging carbon for water and nutrients, which enhances resource efficiency. This network also facilitates communication among genetically distinct trees and plants, promoting the health and resilience of the entire forest community.

Other ecologists, writers and lawyers are looking at the rights of the natural world. Macfarlane, in his latest book on rivers, poses the question, Are rivers alive? Polly Higgins, a barrister, wrote in her book Ecocide that the wilful destruction of nature should be a crime.

Mark explained that he only had time to cover one of the three pillars that he believes are vital to increasing the quantity and variety of nature. We look forward to hearing about the other two in due course.

One hopes that if Mark’s editor had been present, he would have seen that the message was positive: if we give nature a chance and recognise our need for a thriving natural world, recovery can be quick. He might even have smiled.

Words Simon Fussell

Photo Leah Mycock