Having spent the past week in the forests of the Cascades learning about the diverse and complex ecosystems of our nation’s woodlands, I am more convinced than ever of the duty we have to preserve these areas for generations to come.

Though I have long had respect for nature, my admiration has sprung from a dreamy sense of philanthropic duty to nature.

My experience in the past week has connected these abstract concerns to concrete examples of the complexities of nature and its susceptibility to even the smallest changes.

The protection of these wildlife areas is also critical for preserving our national heritage. Though it would be absurd for politicians to suggest the destruction of presidential homes or the development of historical battlefields, some have suggested selling national parks in order to raise money for the massive federal deficit.

And though those suggestions were never implemented, national parks and natural monuments suffer from sparse funding. This manifests itself not in an absence of park luxuries but in the inability to maintain necessities. In my recent trip to the Mount St. Helens National Volcanic Monument, a significant amount of road was closed because the park wasn’t given funding to repair the roads from natural deterioration.

Moreover, national parks and wildlife areas can imprint on others the value of addressing environmental challenges by connecting them with what we have to lose — at the hands of both politicians and global climate change.

In many ways, the decline of individual stewardship of public lands and the environment in general is a collective action problem. When most people choose the rational option — like saving time by driving instead of riding the bus — they produce a worse outcome for everyone involved, including themselves.

I myself have this tendency — driving somewhere I could walk in order to save time, using disposable cups because of their convenience or leaving lights on out of simple carelessness. The problem is so persistent because we are all so inclined to act in our own immediate self-interest.

Since it is improbable that humanity will change this way of behaving, I argue that the most promising way to motivate individuals to accept the demands of environmental stewardship is to emphasize their own potential loss. This awareness is never more acute than when one possesses an appreciation and respect for nature — something that our collective natural lands cultivate in those who behold them.

While looking over some grand natural vista or admiring a mammoth tree that appears unshakeable, it’s easy to assume that these natural wonders are here to stay, unsusceptible to the frailty of people. However, it is important to never assume their permanency.

Though initial attempts at auctioning off public lands have failed, there is nothing stopping renewed attempts.

Both in the voting booth and in the small decisions of everyday life, it is important to continually protect these ecological monuments of our national heritage and identity, even though they may not be built of granite or bear the visage of a famous leader.