A Conservation Agenda for Conservatives

Reclaiming the Vision of Theodore Roosevelt

By Nate Uldricks, ACC Member & Conservationist

In the summer of 1903, President Theodore Roosevelt camped with naturalist John Muir in Yosemite Valley. He later called the trip one of the most formative experiences of his life. That encounter helped give rise to the modern conservation movement—not as a preserve for wealthy elites, but as a living inheritance for everyday Americans. Roosevelt did not merely preserve wilderness. He sought its wise use, so that future generations could hunt, fish, farm, explore, and draw strength from the land. “There can be no greater issue than that of conservation in this country,” he declared in 1912. Just as we must conserve our people, he argued, we must conserve the resources upon which they depend.

For much of the past half-century, environmental policy has been shaped by a different vision—one that drifted from stewardship toward abstraction. A vast regulatory system emerged, achieving in places real gains in cleaner air and water and the protection of critical habitats. Yet over time, the focus shifted toward global temperature targets, technocratic mandates, and sweeping economic change. For many Americans, this approach feels detached from daily life—less about the environment around them than about models and metrics set by urban elites. The United Nations’ recent decision to retire its most extreme and implausible climate scenarios—long used to justify sweeping mandates—validates longstanding concerns and creates a clear opening for conservatives to advance a practical, stewardship-based alternative rooted in local knowledge, innovation, and tangible results rather than abstract global targets. What Americans continue to desire is simpler and more enduring: clean water, healthy forests, abundant wildlife, and the freedom to enjoy them.

This divergence presents not only a political opportunity, but a philosophical one. Conservatives do not need to invent a conservation ethic; we inherit one. Theodore Roosevelt showed what it means to treat the natural world not as an obstacle to prosperity, but as one of its foundations. In his time, a limited federal government confronted an immense public domain, and national action was the natural expression of a young republic securing its birthright. Ours is a different moment. The federal government has grown so vast and remote, while stewardship now rests most immediately with states, communities, and private citizens—those closest to the land and most invested in its future.

The task before us is not to replicate Roosevelt’s model, but to recast his vision. He conserved a young nation’s frontier; we must conserve a mature nation’s home. That requires a shift from centralized control to a more grounded approach rooted in local knowledge, private stewardship, and civic responsibility. Conservation remains what it has always been: the wise use of what we have been given. It favors incentives over mandates, responsibility over abstraction, and participation over exclusion.

But conservation is not merely a matter of policy. It is a matter of civic virtue. The natural world is not simply a resource to be managed; it is a source of physical strength, mental clarity, and spiritual renewal. John Muir called it a “temple,” and the biblical call in Genesis to “work it and keep it” reminds us that stewardship is both a privilege and a duty. A people cut off from the land becomes restless and unmoored. A people rooted in it becomes resilient, self-reliant, and patriotic.

We do not preserve nature by keeping Americans out of it. We preserve it by inviting them back in.

What would a modern conservative conservation agenda look like?

First, balance economic growth with environmental stewardship. Across the country, abandoned industrial sites stand as scars of a previous era. These brownfields should be seen not as liabilities, but as opportunities. By expanding support for cleanup and repurposing while empowering states to streamline permitting and offer targeted tax incentives, we can transform neglected and often polluted land into new businesses, parks, trails, and productive community spaces. In doing so, we create jobs, strengthen local tax bases, and relieve pressure to develop untouched landscapes. A nation rebuilding its industrial strength must also restore the land on which that industry once stood.

Second, mobilize voluntary stewardship of our land and waters. The success of the “Adopt-a-Highway” program shows the power of civic participation. That model can extend to rivers, parks, forests, and neighborhoods. By offering modest incentives to civic groups, churches, veterans, and sportsmen, we can foster shared responsibility for the places we inhabit. Expanding master naturalist programs and citizen-led efforts will equip Americans to restore habitats, monitor wildlife, and care for local lands. Community cleanup and beautification should become a common civic practice. Conservation, in this sense, is not just policy—it is habit, pride, and a renewal of citizenship.

Third, align incentives to conserve working lands and natural assets. Private landowners are among the nation’s most important conservationists, and public policy should support that role. Enhanced incentives for conservation easements, zoning reforms that reward preservation of mature trees and natural buffers, and responsible forest management practices can protect habitats while sustaining rural economies. The goal is not to freeze the landscape, but to ensure it remains healthy, productive, and enduring.

Fourth, expand access to the outdoors and renew a culture of engagement. Too often, public lands are protected but difficult to access. By investing in trails, access points, and recreational infrastructure – and reducing unnecessary barriers – we can reconnect Americans with the natural world. Programs that empower states, support wildlife conservation, and encourage citizen involvement should be strengthened. We should also reinvigorate institutions like the Boy Scouts and Girl Scouts, which have long introduced young Americans to outdoor life and stewardship. A renewed national effort to get families outdoors would not only improve public health, but cultivate habits of responsibility and care no regulation can impose.

This approach succeeds not only because it is effective, but because it reflects the American character. It respects property, rewards responsibility, and places trust in citizens rather than distant authorities. More than that, it understands conservation as a form of civic virtue. When a family walks a restored trail, when a landowner preserves a stand of old trees, when a young person helps restore a stream, they are not merely improving the landscape—they are strengthening their connection to the country itself.

Theodore Roosevelt understood this deeply. “The nation behaves well,” he said, “if it treats the natural resources as assets which it must turn over to the next generation increased and not impaired in value.” That principle remains as urgent today as it was a century ago. We are not the owners of this inheritance, but its stewards.

A conservative conservation agenda, rooted in that understanding, can deliver healthier lands, stronger communities, and a renewed sense of national pride. It can restore not only our lands, but our sense of obligation to our nation and to those who will follow us. That is not merely good policy. It is a duty—to hand down a country not diminished, but renewed.

Nate Uldricks is a master naturalist and Cub Scout leader, and previously served in senior roles at the White House and Pentagon. He is an also ACC member.