For any journalist, both parts of that statement are very important. All U.S. citizens enjoy the right of the First Amendment, and courts have very clearly upheld the rights of a citizen to take
—even the unpopular ones, and even ugly, boring ones of trees and mountains.
And as for "duties as citizens of the State." Well, it's called the Fourth Estate for a reason. That's what the U.S. Forest Service is hurting here: The understanding that the public has a right to this land, and right to know about it, with media more expressive than words.
She said the agency was implementing the Wilderness Act of 1964, which aims to protect wilderness areas from being exploited for commercial gain.
"That's kind of a distortion," says Peter Essick, an award-winning
National Geographic photographer who has worked with the Forest Service before, as well as the other
agencies that oversee American wildernesses for years to produce truly remarkable work.
"When the Wilderness Act was created in 1964, there were plenty of people doing photography," he says. "Nothing in the Wilderness Act says photography is not approved or banned."
When he goes out to shoot, Essick takes the utmost care to the follow the rules of "leave no trace," and he does it with 65 pounds of gear on his back. He's a nature photographer: Not trashing the place is pretty much rule number one.
There's another layer to this, too. The USFS and the other agencies have used photography since their inception to tell the story of the wilderness. All the words in the world can't show you as much as one beautiful Ansel Adams photo. Coincidentally, Essick spent lots of time photographing the Ansel Adams Wilderness, named for the famous photographer, for his own
book.
Over and over again, the establishment of an American wilderness, the National Parks, the core idea that you can escape to a more primitive, but nonetheless essential part of this country, has been referred to as America's best idea. It's why city-dwelling, suburb-raised punks like me can have so many feelings toward land that has filled our lungs with fresh air and our hearts with wonder. It's why I swell with pride when my little sister, gritting her teeth through cuts and tears, finished her first hike. It's why I look forward to enjoying it with my children when they come along.
That feeling needs to stick around.
And, believe me, I get it. No one wants annoying reporters or photographers damaging the environment, even if "breaking news" is happening. (This is the only case in which this rule wouldn't apply—and it happens to be entirely unenforceable.)
Wilderness areas have it bad enough already. The United States pumps "on the order of nearly 60 million 'short tons'" of carbon monoxide into the air every year, the EPA
tells us. We dump 1.2 trillion gallons of untreated sewage stormwater, and industrial waste into the water that—eventually—is supposed to make it back to your faucet, your hot shower, the water bottle you give your kid on his hike. And no one likes seeing headlines like
"Sequoia National Park is Stuck in Pollution Hell" or
"Where the Smog Ends Up."
But do the good people running the USFS really think that charging a journalist $1,500 for a permit—and a fine of $1,000 per shot to those who don't get one—is going to aid that cause? Do they think adding a roadblock to the essential act of newsgathering and to the creation of free publicity for the forests is a wise decision?
Read more here
The U.S. Forest Service Wants to Fine You 1 000 for Taking Pictures in the Forest - Esquire