BY BERT BURNETT
Rewilding or Revenue-Chasing?
The rewilding lobby has done it again. In their latest bout of ecological romanticism, the Nottinghamshire and Derbyshire Wildlife Trusts have secured £15,000 to “study” the feasibility of reintroducing elk—or, more accurately, what Europeans insist on calling elk but which the rest of the world knows as moose (Alces alces). This is not conservation; it is a circus act, a distraction from the real issue: the systematic vilification of Britain’s native deer in pursuit of grant money and headlines.
The Deer in the Room
Rewilding advocates are quick to paint our existing deer populations as voracious tree-killers, demanding culls to “save the forests.” Yet these same enthusiasts now propose introducing a far larger, more destructive ungulate—one that can weigh over half a tonne, bulldoze saplings with ease, and has a notorious temper when provoked. The hypocrisy is staggering.
Red deer, roe deer, and fallow deer already perform the ecological role these rewilders claim to desire: controlling undergrowth, shaping woodland edges, and maintaining biodiversity. But native deer don’t generate the same PR buzz as a headline-grabbing megafauna revival. Worse still, they don’t unlock the same funding streams.
Let’s be clear: the “elk” proposed for reintroduction are moose. The British public, already struggling with the concept of wild boar reintroductions (which have led to escaped populations and farmer outcry), is being sold a fantasy. Moose are not docile landscapers—they are temperamental, territorial, and, when protecting calves, lethally aggressive.
In Scandinavia and North America, moose collisions cause hundreds of deaths annually. A full-grown bull can total a car with a single charge. Are we really to believe that the Peak District, crisscrossed with narrow country lanes, is the ideal habitat for an animal that regularly strays onto highways?
Follow the Money
Rewilding Britain, the organisation funding this study, is part of a growing industry that thrives on taxpayer subsidies and charitable donations. The playbook is simple:
- Demonise existing species (deer, in this case) to justify culls.
- Propose a charismatic replacement (elk/moose, beavers, lynx) to attract funding.
- Secure grants for “feasibility studies,” which inevitably conclude that reintroduction is “essential.”
- Release the animals, then absolve yourself of responsibility when they damage crops, cause accidents, or disrupt ecosystems.
It’s a lucrative cycle. Once the elk are introduced, who pays for the fencing? The road signs? The compensation to farmers when a moose demolishes a hedgerow or charges a dog walker? Not the rewilding trusts—they’ll be too busy applying for the next round of funding to reintroduce wolves.
The Forgotten Precedent
Rewilding’s track record is mixed at best. Beavers, hailed as wetland saviours, have flooded farmland and forced expensive mitigation efforts. White storks, another vanity project, now compete with native birds for nesting sites. And let’s not forget the ill-fated attempt to reintroduce sea eagles to East Anglia, which saw the birds promptly decimate local wader populations.
Yet when these schemes go awry, the rewilding lobby shrugs. There is no accountability—only an insatiable demand for more experiments, more disruption, and more public money.
If we truly care about restoring balance to Britain’s ecosystems, we should start by managing what we already have. Proper deer management—through controlled culling and habitat planning—could achieve the same “ecological landscaping” rewilders crave without introducing an unpredictable, dangerous species.
But that doesn’t make for a sexy press release. And it certainly doesn’t unlock the same funding.
Bert Burnett is a retired gamekeeper of more than fifty years’ experience.