Bushcraft, often defined as the art of survival in nature through the use of skills like fire-making, shelter-building, and foraging, has garnered significant attention in the modern world as a way for people to reconnect with the wilderness and practice self-reliance. Enthusiasts of bushcraft engage in what might be described as a nostalgic return to simpler, more primal ways of living, reviving skills that are often seen as endangered in a highly industrialized, urban world. However, beneath this popular portrayal lies a deeper historical context—one shaped by colonial expansion, exploration, and the conquest of foreign lands.

This article seeks to unpack the colonial roots of bushcraft and its related fascination with adventure and travel. The rise of bushcraft as a modern outdoor movement can be traced back to the age of European colonialism, where survival skills, navigation techniques, and knowledge of the wilderness were essential tools for explorers, settlers, and soldiers alike. Yet, what was once a tool of imperial conquest has been romanticized, rebranded, and stripped of its colonial connotations in modern narratives. Understanding the historical roots of bushcraft can help us critically examine the ways in which adventure, travel, and survival skills are intertwined with colonial ideologies, and how these legacies continue to shape perceptions of wilderness today.

Bushcraft’s Colonial Foundations: The Age of Exploration

To understand bushcraft’s origins, we must first look at the age of European exploration and colonization, beginning in the 15th century. During this period, European powers embarked on voyages of discovery, seeking to expand their territories, establish trade routes, and exploit the resources of newly “discovered” lands. As these expeditions ventured into unfamiliar environments—whether the jungles of Africa, the forests of North America, or the deserts of Australia—European explorers, settlers, and military forces found themselves in need of survival skills that went beyond their experiences of temperate, agrarian Europe.

For these colonizers, the ability to live off the land, navigate through vast wildernesses, and adapt to extreme conditions was not only a matter of personal survival but also an essential tool for imperial expansion. These skills, learned either through trial and error or by observing and often appropriating Indigenous knowledge, became indispensable for the colonization of lands far beyond Europe’s borders. Bushcraft, in its nascent form, developed as part of this larger colonial project, intertwined with the idea of European superiority over nature and the peoples who inhabited these lands.

Explorers like Sir Richard Burton, Sir Henry Morton Stanley, and John Wesley Powell became celebrated figures in European societies, often portrayed as heroic adventurers who conquered the unknown through a combination of skill, bravery, and resourcefulness. Their expeditions were seen as missions of discovery, and their survival in the wilderness became symbolic of European dominance over the “untamed” world. The skills they used, now recognizable as bushcraft techniques, were romanticized and written about in memoirs, travelogues, and adventure stories that captivated the public imagination.

However, what these narratives often failed to acknowledge was that much of the survival knowledge employed by European explorers was borrowed from Indigenous peoples. Native communities in the Americas, Africa, and Australia had been living in harmony with their environments for millennia, developing sophisticated techniques for hunting, foraging, shelter-building, and navigation. Yet, in the context of colonialism, this knowledge was often appropriated without recognition or credit, reframed as part of the heroic exploits of European explorers.

The Romanticisation of Wilderness: From Conquest to Adventure

As European empires expanded, the wilderness began to be seen not just as a space of conquest but also as a site of adventure and personal transformation. By the late 19th and early 20th centuries, the concept of the “great outdoors” had shifted from being a dangerous, hostile environment to a place of escapism and spiritual renewal for those who felt stifled by urbanization and industrialization.

This transformation in the perception of wilderness was deeply influenced by colonial narratives. In the writings of figures like Rudyard Kipling and Robert Baden-Powell, the founder of the Boy Scouts, wilderness was idealized as a proving ground for masculinity, self-reliance, and resilience. Baden-Powell, who served as a military officer in the British Empire, drew heavily on his experiences in Africa, where he encountered Indigenous peoples and witnessed their survival skills firsthand. He translated these experiences into the foundational principles of the Scouting movement, which aimed to instill in boys the virtues of adventure, resourcefulness, and respect for nature.

At the same time, popular adventure literature, such as H. Rider Haggard’s King Solomon’s Mines and Joseph Conrad’s Heart of Darkness, portrayed Africa as a mysterious, exotic land ripe for exploration. These narratives not only reinforced the idea of wilderness as a space for adventure but also perpetuated colonial ideologies of racial superiority and the “civilizing mission.” The European adventurer, in these stories, was often portrayed as a brave hero who brought order and knowledge to a savage and chaotic world. The wilderness, in turn, was depicted as something to be mastered and tamed, rather than understood on its own terms.

This romanticization of wilderness was closely linked to the rise of bushcraft as a modern movement. The skills that explorers, soldiers, and frontiersmen had used to navigate the wilds of colonial territories were repackaged as recreational pursuits, marketed to a growing middle class in Europe and North America who longed for adventure and escape from the constraints of modern society. Bushcraft, in this context, became less about survival in a hostile environment and more about personal development, self-discovery, and communion with nature.

The “Outsider” Perspective: Indigenous Knowledge and Its Appropriation

While the modern bushcraft movement often claims to celebrate self-reliance and a deep connection to nature, it remains deeply problematic in its treatment of Indigenous knowledge. Much of the skill set that forms the basis of bushcraft—fire-making, foraging, tracking, and shelter-building—has been passed down through generations of Indigenous peoples who have lived in harmony with their environments for thousands of years. However, in many cases, this knowledge has been appropriated, commodified, and presented as part of a European or settler colonial tradition, without giving proper credit to the Indigenous communities from whom it was taken.

One striking example of this is the popularity of Indigenous-inspired techniques in modern bushcraft courses, such as the use of the bow drill for fire-making or the creation of traditional hunting traps. While these techniques are often taught as part of a broader bushcraft curriculum, there is rarely any acknowledgment of their cultural origins or the Indigenous peoples who developed them. Instead, they are framed as part of a universal, human tradition of survival, divorced from the specific ecological and cultural contexts in which they originated.

The erasure of Indigenous knowledge in bushcraft reflects a broader pattern of appropriation in the outdoor and survivalist communities. Just as European explorers borrowed and rebranded Indigenous techniques during the colonial era, modern bushcraft enthusiasts often adopt Indigenous practices without recognizing the ongoing struggles of Indigenous peoples to maintain their lands, cultures, and sovereignty. This disconnect between bushcraft as a recreational activity and the realities of Indigenous land rights and cultural preservation is a legacy of colonialism that persists to this day.

The Colonial Gaze: Wilderness as an Exotic Other

The colonial gaze, which views wilderness and non-European peoples as objects of fascination, remains a powerful force in the contemporary bushcraft movement. In much the same way that European explorers once ventured into “exotic” lands in search of adventure, modern bushcraft enthusiasts often seek out remote, “untouched” wilderness areas where they can test their skills and escape the pressures of modern life. This desire for adventure and authenticity is often accompanied by a sense of entitlement to these spaces, as if the wilderness exists solely for the benefit of the adventurer.

This perspective is problematic for several reasons. First, it reinforces the idea that wilderness is a blank slate, an empty space waiting to be discovered and conquered. In reality, many of the world’s so-called “wilderness” areas are home to Indigenous communities who have lived there for centuries. These lands are not uninhabited or unspoiled; they are cultural landscapes that have been shaped by human activity, often in ways that are invisible to the colonial gaze. For example, the Amazon rainforest, long considered the epitome of untamed wilderness, has been managed by Indigenous peoples for millennia through practices such as controlled burning, selective planting, and agroforestry.

Second, the colonial gaze exoticizes both the wilderness and the Indigenous peoples who inhabit it. Just as European explorers once viewed Indigenous cultures as primitive and otherworldly, modern bushcraft enthusiasts often romanticize Indigenous ways of life as somehow closer to nature, more authentic, and free from the constraints of modernity. This fetishization of Indigenous cultures, while seemingly positive, ultimately serves to reinforce colonial power dynamics by framing Indigenous peoples as objects of curiosity and admiration rather than as equal partners in the global conversation about conservation, sustainability, and land management.

Decolonizing Bushcraft: A Call for Reflection and Responsibility

As the bushcraft movement continues to grow in popularity, it is essential that practitioners, educators, and enthusiasts critically examine the colonial roots of their interests in adventure, travel, and survival skills. This examination should go beyond surface-level acknowledgments of Indigenous knowledge and delve into the deeper histories of colonialism, land dispossession, and cultural appropriation that have shaped the way we understand wilderness and survival.

One way to begin this process of decolonization is by actively engaging with Indigenous communities and learning from them in ways that are respectful, reciprocal, and grounded in solidarity. Rather than treating Indigenous knowledge as a resource to be extracted and commodified, bushcraft practitioners should recognize the rights of Indigenous peoples to their lands, cultures, and intellectual property. This might involve supporting Indigenous-led conservation efforts, advocating for land repatriation, or simply acknowledging the cultural origins of the skills and techniques that are taught in bushcraft courses.

Additionally, it is important to challenge the romanticization of wilderness as a space of escape and adventure. While spending time in nature can be a valuable and restorative experience, it should not come at the expense of Indigenous land rights or environmental stewardship. Bushcraft enthusiasts must recognize that the landscapes they cherish are not empty or pristine; they are inhabited, managed, and cared for by Indigenous peoples whose relationships with the land are deeply rooted in cultural and ecological knowledge.

By critically examining the colonial legacies of bushcraft and working to decolonize its practices, the outdoor community can move towards a more ethical, responsible, and inclusive relationship with the land and its original inhabitants. In doing so, bushcraft can become more than just a hobby or a pastime—it can be a powerful tool for reconnecting with nature in ways that honor the histories, cultures, and knowledge of the people who have been its caretakers for generations.