SPEAKER_04: I'm Eli Chen from the Overheard team. All of June we're playing some of our favorite episodes. Here's This Indigenous Practice Fights Fire with Fire. What you're hearing is the sound of grass burning in a dense forest in Northern California. It's full of coniferous trees, brush, and shrubs.
SPEAKER_00: And tons of branches and tons of dried out foliage because the area is so dried up thanks to the warming climate. As you walk around you can hear the crunching of the branches, the crunching of leaves and everything so it's dry and hot.
SPEAKER_04: And there are a bunch of people here, the ones who set the spot on fire, and Keely Rehan, a National Geographic photographer observing the scene.
SPEAKER_00: And as they're walking around dripping fire out of their torches, which basically look like giant oil cans, kind of the fire drips out and forms a thin little line and they're able to create these lines of fire and the fire spreads downhill.
SPEAKER_04: Keely then watches the fire creep slowly, burning leaves and branches as it goes.
SPEAKER_00: Maybe the flames get as high as six feet at the maximum as they kind of climb up these bushes and these small trees and open up big areas in the forest underneath the main canopy.
SPEAKER_04: Some of the people leading the burn are members of the Yurok tribe, carrying out a tradition that's been practiced for thousands of years here in their ancestral homeland. They're training fire lighters to carry on the tradition.
SPEAKER_00: They're learning an important thing which is how to heal the land. They're learning how to have a relationship with fire and land again and they're starting to understand that that relationship with fire means that it's not about mastery and control but it's about moving with nature.
SPEAKER_04: Even though the world around them is going up in flames, everyone is calm. They're working with the fire, not against it.
SPEAKER_00: What you don't see is all of this background knowledge that everyone has in their heads. Their mental maps, what was going on was completely different than mine, right? Because they're looking at what's going on and they know. They know exactly where that fire is going. They have that entire landscape mapped out in their heads and they know where that fire is going and where it's going to end and where that fire is going to be burned to by the end of the day.
SPEAKER_03: Send it! Yeah, yeah.
SPEAKER_04: And that speaks to the level of knowledge that these people who've been working with fire for millennia basically have had, right?
SPEAKER_00: Yeah, yeah, absolutely. Because I know I grew up in an era when Smokey the Bear was all the rage with national parks, right? And fire is always the thing where Smokey was like, you know, only you can prevent forest fires. Like, yeah, by burning.
SPEAKER_04: I'm Eli Chen, and this is Overheard, a show where we eavesdrop on the wild conversations we have here at Nat Geo and follow them to the edges of our big, weird, beautiful world. This week, we'll talk about fire. It's not just that agent of destruction that Smokey kept warning us about. It's also a necessary element that heals natural spaces, keeps wildfires at bay, and gives people and animals food and resources to live. And we'll learn about cultural burning, an indigenous practice that the U.S. government suppressed for decades, and how climate change and increasingly disastrous wildfires in the West have made its revival critical to our future. More after the break. But before we get on with the episode, thanks for listening. If you like what you hear, consider a National Geographic subscription and get exclusive access to stories published daily, curated newsletters, and 130 years of archives. Subscribe today at natgeo.com slash explore more. Cultural burning is pretty straightforward. It's lighting low intensity fires, which burns up the fuels in the forest and helps living things there regenerate. And Keely says that the Karuk, Yurok, and Hupa tribes in Northern California have been burning the land for 13,000 years.
SPEAKER_00: Like back in the day, I think estimates are that about 8 million acres of California was burned every year in these cultural burns, these low intensity burns. In fact, they've been doing it for so long that there are certain species of tree that a lot of the pines there, for example, can't germinate unless they are, the cones are opened by fire. And you might think, oh, well, that's because it's evolved alongside wildfire. But that's not going to be true. If you think about it, a wildfire is so hot that when it comes through, it'd burn up the cones and it would burn up the seeds as well. So it's amazing to think about how long that's been happening for.
SPEAKER_04: Cultural burns can change the environment in pretty dramatic ways.
SPEAKER_00: Basically, the air turns this smoky dark gray and then the sun turns into this red thing and it looks like the end of the world.
SPEAKER_04: And that can have some fascinating effects on animals like salmon. Salmon need cold water to migrate, and research suggests that the smoke from cultural burns may actually cool the rivers that they swim through.
SPEAKER_00: You're talking about using the smoke from the cultural burns to specifically to help the salmon on their trip up. It's an amazing thing. I mean, it's all another thing. Everything's interrelated, you know, so it's hard when you start talking about these single issue things, especially with indigenous knowledge, it's so holistic. Everything is related to everything else. The cultural burning is related to the removal of the dams, saving the salmon, the fire, all of it's all related, you know, so super cool.
SPEAKER_04: For thousands of years, indigenous people managed forests, land, and other natural resources in the Americas and developed what's known as traditional ecological knowledge. Then European settlers arrived, and Keely says that initially they weren't opposed to cultural burns.
SPEAKER_00: People even way back when in the 1800s and 1700s actually knew that Indians were burning and a lot of them actually saw the wisdom in doing that kind of burning.
SPEAKER_04: Nonetheless, Europe had a cooler and wetter climate that didn't really depend on fire the way areas of the American West or Australia do. And as settlers moved west, they and their descendants became concerned about fires damaging their homes, farms, and businesses. That along with the forced removal of Native American tribes from their ancestral homelands led to a decline in cultural burning activity in the 19th century. Then in the early 20th century, there was a major event that really became the turning point for how Americans viewed fire. The Great Fire of 1910, also known as the Big Blowup or the Devil's Broomfire, burned over 3 million acres of the Rockies, killing 78 firefighters. The U.S. Forest Service had just been formed a few years prior in 1905. The agency received a lot of attention for how it responded to the Great Fire of 1910 and emphatically pursued a policy of fire suppression.
SPEAKER_00: Officially, the Forest Service stance became to avoid burning, avoid doing that kind of burning precisely because the Indians were doing it.
SPEAKER_04: Burns of all kinds, including cultural burns, were suppressed in law and culture. Like in 1944, when the U.S. Forest Service created the mascot Smokey Bear to promote forest fire prevention. You know, I had read that that campaign is like, it's the longest running American public service announcement. It's really fascinating how long that messaging has sort of been pervasive in our society. Yeah, I think that the Smokey the Bear is a funny kind of relic of a bunch of things.
SPEAKER_00: You know, it started out with a sort of racist notion that the Indians were doing something and thus we shouldn't do it. But you know, I think even more than that, there's sort of a deep-seated cultural bias among them. What Westerners in general, I would say, is a fear of fire. Fire is this big, scary thing. Even Europeans almost certainly used cultural burning at some point in time, but they forgot. You know, and then it became a scary thing.
SPEAKER_04: To be clear, it's not that people who invented Smokey were necessarily thinking about cultural burns. It's more that Smokey reflected this larger fear of fire among the American public.
SPEAKER_02: And also, you have Smokey the Bear in very much an educational paradigm of, you know, only you can prevent wildfires. And so much of that wildfire narrative has been at the expense of indigenous peoples' cultures and being able to use fire.
SPEAKER_04: That's Frank Lake, an ecologist for the U.S. Forest Service who studies climate change, drought, land fire, ethnoecology, and traditional ecological knowledge. He actually worked on the study looking at how cultural burns might affect salmon. And he's a member of the Karuk and Yurok communities.
SPEAKER_02: So I grew up a lot around that tension between the federal government and local tribes around environmental and resource management, around the effects of fire exclusion and fire suppression, and heard the stories, oh, our people used to burn a lot more, we're dependent upon fire for healthy wildlife, like the deer and elk we would hunt, the connection between water is sacred and by burning, you reduce the plants or the trees that use up the water.
SPEAKER_04: I take it that most people maybe of your generation or older have not seen very many cultural burns, is that right? That's correct. Coming up after the break, we'll get into how one wildfire devastated a Karuk community and meet a woman who's leading the way in training the next generation of firelighters. Over the years that cultural burning has been suppressed, wildfires have become more frequent and destructive. In the 1990s, wildfires burned an average of 3.3 million acres a year. That rate more than doubled in the 2010s, during which wildfires burned an average of 7.5 million acres a year. Many of these impacted areas are in California, and they often hit communities where native people live.
SPEAKER_02: You also have the tribes here who lived with some of the highest census levels of smoke and emissions, where you had severe air quality days that were so bad that they had to develop like a new chart for relating how dangerous and how thick the smoke was. Imagine being an elder with emphysema or other heart and lung complications, and then now you have a power outage, you can't run the air purifier, you don't have air conditioning, you're breathing smoke, you're a disadvantaged and low-income family so you can't be smoke refugees and go out to the coast or get a hotel someplace else. You have to stay here and eat it.
SPEAKER_04: In the fall of 2020, Keely went to Happy Camp, a town with many Karuk residents. It had just been devastated by the Slater wildfire, which burned nearly 200 homes, many of which belonged to Karuk families.
SPEAKER_00: I mean, even massive trees were completely torched, you know, were burned to cinders and structures were only just metallus standing, there were tons of vehicles that were just pulled off the side of the road, there was nothing left. Yeah, it was incredible to see the level of devastation of it. Yeah, it looked like an apocalypse had come through.
SPEAKER_04: Keely was traveling with a Karuk friend who lived there and was seeing it for the first time in person.
SPEAKER_00: We got out of the car, we were looking at this devastation, this burned out hulk of a wreck of a vehicle and nothing left of the structure except some tin sheets on the ground that were all burned up. And the first thing she did was she hauled out a bucket from the car and I asked her, I was like, what's in the bucket? And she started tossing acorns around and she said, this is an opportunity, this is an opportunity for me to heal the land by planting these acorns here. Right here in this place originally, there weren't that many oaks, this is a chance for us to heal the land. And she said also that in healing land and planting the acorns and doing cultural learning, all of this was also a chance for me to heal myself.
SPEAKER_04: In your conversations with members of the Karuk and Yurok tribes, how do people talk about fire and what can we learn from these tribes about how we should think about fire?
SPEAKER_00: You know, my friend Ron told me that when he was a kid, his grandmother gave him a box of matches one day when he was out playing in the yard and told him to not come back in until he had used up the whole box of matches. Right and yeah, it's so different. She was teaching him to not fear it and also to how to learn how to deal with fire. Like clearly she wasn't afraid of the fire and she knew that it's possible that it could get out of control, but she would be watching and she would deal with it. And so she knew that by teaching him very young not to fear it and learn how fire works that she would be creating someone who would keep their culture going through cultural learning.
SPEAKER_03: Right. Yeah, that's sort of the antithesis to what I think a lot of people have heard when they were kids, which is don't play with matches, right?
SPEAKER_00: Yeah, right. Exactly. That's right. It's right up there with running with scissors. Yeah, don't run with scissors and don't play with matches. But I would definitely say my Karukan Yurok friends would say otherwise.
SPEAKER_04: To be clear, Keely isn't encouraging kids to play with matches. It's more about encouraging kids to have a healthy relationship with fire. Even though there's no absolute way to control fire, Keely says the damage that a cultural burn could cause would be small compared to a wildfire. And there is a greater risk to consider in not burning the land regularly.
SPEAKER_00: When a wildfire does actually go through and you've missed the chance to stop that wildfire, that wildfire is going to destroy way more, way more than a cultural burn ever would. In a cultural burn, something gets out of control and you burn out a couple of houses by accident or something like that. When a wildfire comes through, that entire place is just burning to a cinder. There's not going to be anything left. Entire settlements, entire towns are going to be burned to a crisp like in Paradise, California where everything's gone. And it's unrecoverable.
SPEAKER_04: According to the U.S. Forest Service, 99.8 percent of prescribed burns stay where they're supposed to. The agency is currently reviewing its approach to prescribed burns.
SPEAKER_00: I definitely think that cultural burning is a real, legitimate tool. It's one of the few legitimately scalable tools that we as human beings, as a species, have to actually combat things like climate change. It's an amazing tool.
SPEAKER_04: Fire is also necessary for indigenous tribes to carry on their traditions. Margo Robbins, a Yurok tribe member, is a basket weaver, so she depends on cultural burns in order to grow basket weaving materials.
SPEAKER_01: When our babies are born, we carry them in baskets. We use baskets to cook, eat, carry things. And we use baskets to lift up prayer. And finally, when our time on this earth is done, we send off the person's spirit by feeding them on a basket.
SPEAKER_04: The baskets Margo weaves are made of California hazelnut. On its own, hazelnut grows into a bush. But when you burn it every now and then, new shoots come up straighter and stronger, excellent basket weaving material. Up until 10 years ago, government officials wouldn't allow Margo to burn the land.
SPEAKER_01: There's no paper any place in existence that says we gave up our right to use fire.
SPEAKER_04: In recent years, the Forest Service has come around to seeing the value of cultural burns. But to conduct a cultural burn, you still often have to get a permit from the government. And often emergency personnel have to be stationed nearby in case the fire gets out of control.
SPEAKER_01: It's very frustrating to have to ask people who some have never even seen our land to get permission to burn. They don't have enough knowledge, really, to be in the decision-making place that they are. And so it's frustrating, but it is what it is.
SPEAKER_04: So Margo started advocating for cultural burns. The movement gained steam, and she got to actually attend her first cultural burn in 2012, one where she watched hazel burn. Margo says that was the moment she realized that it was really possible to bring fire back.
SPEAKER_01: And it really cemented our drive to continue to make that happen. We knew that this would be the first of many that once we started, we would not stop, that we would continue to grow this ability to put fire on the lands and that we would have our own people from our own homelands trained so that they could legally put fire on the land and not have to risk going to prison.
SPEAKER_04: In 2015, Margo co-founded the Indigenous Peoples Burn Network, a growing organization that works to bring cultural burns back. The organization is made up of various Native nations, nonprofit organizations, researchers, and government agencies. Today, Margo doesn't just advocate for fire. She trains fire lighters.
SPEAKER_01: We are teaching the next generations how to burn. The time is long past when they shoot people for using fire. So I'm able to take my grandkids and my kids out on the land and we can burn. I teach them how to burn. You know, start at the top, you bring your fire slowly down the hill. If things are dry, you put a line around it. Make sure that you have water.
SPEAKER_04: Frank meanwhile has been using a scientific approach to advocate for burns. He has been running research to see what the data says about the effect of cultural burns.
SPEAKER_02: Lo and behold, that Indigenous knowledge and cultural practice usually results in a better, higher quality resource, such as acorns, such as hazel shoots for basket material, such as greater berry abundance. That changes the game because now you're saying, here, look, we've demonstrated we don't need Western science to validate or substantiate Indigenous knowledge and cultural practices, but it certainly could corroborate that and say this is where they're aligned.
SPEAKER_04: He's found that when groups burn underbrush regularly, the brush doesn't build up and turn into massive wildfires.
SPEAKER_02: They've reduced that wildfire threat because the wildfire burned into a recent cultural burn and was able to easier to contain. Right? So the more you break up the high fuel loading areas and you reduce the wildfire risk based on your treatments and your prescribed fires or your cultural burns, the less you have a wildfire risk actually threatening your life and property and your community.
SPEAKER_04: So that has been demonstrated that conducting multiple cultural burns or prescribed fires in a year, that can help combat wildfires.
SPEAKER_02: It definitely reduces the fuels, reduces the fuel continuity, and how much fuel is there that could burn under the most severe conditions, moderates it or reduces that fire intensity and makes it less damaging. I'm just curious, you know, in the 20 years that you've been at the Forest Service, have
SPEAKER_04: they become a lot more receptive to Indigenous knowledge?
SPEAKER_02: Very much so, even down to the current administration and the Council on Environmental Quality's direction on Indigenous traditional ecological knowledge, the USDA, Department of Agriculture's direction on how the agency, particularly the Forest Service and Research and Development, is going to respond to that.
SPEAKER_04: This year, the White House announced that it was committed to using Indigenous knowledge in policy dealing with the relationship between humans and the environment. Frank currently helps the Forest Service run cultural burns.
SPEAKER_02: When it comes to the fall time, there's an indicator where usually the infertile and buggy acorns, brown top bad fall first, and then you start to see this transition of the white top acorns falling. And that's our indicator locally for burning. And I try to time that just right before the next rainstorm to burn off clear, nice little understory fire under the acorn trees that reduces the buggy acorns, clams up the small sticks and leaves. And then you have on that open charred understory, white top good acorns falling on there that are easily obscene and picked up.
SPEAKER_04: Keely actually visited one of Frank's acorn burns in the Klamath River Valley.
SPEAKER_00: You kind of like look over the Klamath River, which is a river that's just sort of like always painted with rainbows. And there's this beautiful, bright green forest full of conifers. So even in the wintertime, it's always green.
SPEAKER_04: He recalls what the ground looked like after the burn was over.
SPEAKER_00: The whole ground was this carpet of black, you know, kind of this black ash that was strewn everywhere. And on top of it was sitting tons of acorns and they were all beautiful and they were like big and plump and none of them had any holes in them. And the thing that Frank said was, well, they don't have holes in them is because the cultural fire burned up and killed all the acorn pests. We time it so that the acorn weevils and the acorn moths that normally go down there, they get burned up in that cultural fire. So we time that fire just right so that it does that. And then, you know, while we were there, we gathered a bunch of acorns to take home to make into food. Frank says that it's important his kids understand how these fires are
SPEAKER_04: connected to the food they eat and the things they use in their house.
SPEAKER_02: My kids see good acorns. They know what a good soup tastes like. They know the deer we've hunted, the nice bucks we've shot in the areas that have been burned. They see the basket material that made the hazel sticks for their cradle that they were carried in.
SPEAKER_04: Frank was partially inspired to teach his kids about fire by visiting Australia. There he visited the Martu, a group of Aboriginal Australians living in the country's Western desert.
SPEAKER_02: And I got to see Aboriginal kids take a lighter and go burn off a small patch. And then I saw the teenagers and older ones burn off a bigger patch. And then I got to go out with the men and burn off like a whole big valley. Like we're talking like, you know, quarter mile to like a two mile plus burn across Spinifex and through other patches of forest and shrubs and then hunt kangaroo. And so for me, it was like, oh, you know, most of the time we tell kids not to play if matches and we kind of scold them and Smokey the Bear says, be careful of fire. But we need to teach our kids to respect it.
SPEAKER_04: Frank thinks kids need to start off with that mindset when they're young. Kids help burn sometimes.
SPEAKER_02: My kids are fifth grade and third grade. They talk about it, especially Leland. It's like more of a matter of fact to kids like, well, you just think fire is bad, but there's this, this, this, this and this. And there's these plants and these are your medicines and these are your berries. And we share those foods with the animals and the bears and the squirrels. And like my kids can burn off a small little 50 by 100 foot area under a few acorn trees. They're going to be when he's 20 or 25 years old, going to be able to carry out much bigger landscape burns that have multiple types of places like that. Right. We're going to be able to know the direction of the wind, the sounds of the birds or the animals that are there that are indicators. You're going to know when it's the right time to use fire in the best way and a good way for safety, for security and to the benefit of, again, your family and the community.
SPEAKER_03: Yeah, I have to say I love the idea of like, you know, your kid teaching other kids about the value of fire. It's really great.
SPEAKER_02: They need to. And particularly with what we see in the news and how sensationalized the catastrophic fires, we need the hope stories, right? We need to know that there is a positive relationship that people can have in living with fire.
SPEAKER_04: That's coming out in the July issue of the magazine. And if you want to hear more from Keely, you can also listen to a previous Overheard episode where he shares stories about the man who killed his mother. And if you want to learn more about the fire, you can check out his other episodes on the YouTube channel. And if you want to learn more about the fire, you can check out his other episodes on the YouTube channel. And if you want to learn more about the fire, you can check out his other episodes on the YouTube channel. And if you want to learn more about the fire, you can check out his other episodes on the YouTube channel. And if you want to learn more about the fire, you can check out his other episodes on the YouTube channel. And if you want to learn more about the fire, you can check out his other episodes on the YouTube channel. And if you want to learn more about the fire, you can check out his other episodes on the YouTube channel. And if you want to learn more about the fire, you can check out his other episodes on the YouTube channel. And if you want to learn more about the fire, you can check out his other episodes on the YouTube channel. And if you want to learn more about the fire, you can check out his other episodes on the YouTube channel. And if you want to learn more about the fire, you can check out his other episodes on the YouTube channel. And if you want to learn more about the fire, you can check out his other episodes on the YouTube channel. This week's episode of Overheard is produced by Alana Strauss. Our producers are Kyrie Douglas and Marci Thompson. Our senior producers are Brian Gutierrez and Jacob Pinter. Carla Wills is our manager of audio. Our executive producer of audio is Devar Ardilon, who also edited this episode. Our fact checkers are Robin Palmer and Julie Beer. Our copy editors are Caroline Braun, Amy Kolczak, Cindy Lightner, and Jennifer Villaga. Hansdale Hsu composed her theme music, sound design, and engineered this episode. This podcast is a production of National Geographic Partners. The National Geographic Society, committed to illuminating and protecting the wonder of our world, funds the work of National Geographic grantee, Keely Rehan. Michael Tribble is the vice president of integrated storytelling. Nathan Lump is National Geographic's editor-in-chief. And I'm senior editor and host Eli Chen. Thanks for listening and see y'all next time.
