With wildfires continuing to ravage Canadian forests, I’m reminded of my research trips through Appalachia and how sad I’d be to see all of those trees disappear.  But there was a time in West Virginia’s history where most of the forest was in fact gone—not due to fires, but because of irresponsible logging practices.  As I was digging into the troubled history of West Virginia’s timber industry, I was surprised how many parallels there were to the way many major media companies operate today.

Until the late 1800s, most of West Virginia was covered with forests that were centuries old.  With new advances in technology that made clearing forests quicker and easier, many outside companies saw the economic opportunity in logging and flocked to the state.  Sawmills started appearing everywhere, and West Virginia saw an industrial logging boom that lasted decades.  The industry was highly profitable but also highly problematic.  As a timberman from that era put it, “All we want here is to get the most we can out of the country, as quick as we can, and then get out.”  Because the companies were largely motivated by profit, they did whatever would get them the most amount of money in the least amount of time—even if that meant using harmful and unsustainable harvesting methods.

The repeated slashing and burning of forests wreaked havoc on the environment, leading to severe soil erosion, flooding, and poisoned streams.  By 1920, most of the 16 million acres of forest that had originally covered the state had been stripped bare.  Once the timber was gone, the logging companies moved elsewhere, leaving once-thriving communities behind to wither away.  Thankfully, since trees are a renewable resource, the story doesn’t end here.  The damage caused by logging led to an increase in conservation efforts and the introduction of national forests in West Virginia.  Because of more responsible forest management and more sustainable timber harvesting, large areas of forest have since returned.

I believe this story is being replayed today in another context, where artists play the part of the forests and select media companies resemble the logging companies.  The minds of creative people are a beautiful ecosystem of ideas and dreams.  Media companies know there’s potential to make a lot of money from quality ideas and seek to harvest as many as possible.  When they find success with a particular idea, they capitalize on its popularity by increasing the rate and volume of its production.  But they’re so focused on immediate profits that they don’t consider the damage they’re causing in the process.  Eventually, the overwhelming demand to keep producing strips the artists bare and burns them out.  Once the companies find there’s nothing left to profit from, they move on and repeat the process somewhere else, leaving  the artists’ minds—once lush and vibrant—nothing more than a smoldering pile of ashes.

Fortunately, similar to trees, creativity is also a renewable resource, and fresh ideas can bloom again in what was once a desolate wasteland.  Sometimes it will happen organically.  Just as an empty field left untouched can turn into a forest again, taking time to be still and present can lead to new growth within our minds.  We can also take a more active role in the process.  A forest can be regrown by planting seeds and saplings.  In a similar way, we can repopulate our creativity by seeking out meaningful experiences and relationships, which may act as seeds of inspiration down the line.  In either case, this period of regrowth happens in its own time and requires patience, which is a mentality that seems lost in such a fast-moving culture and entertainment industry.  If we all slowed down, prioritized the welfare of people over economic demands, and moved forward at a more sustainable pace, life would likely be healthier and more enriching for us all.