**Park, Fish, Salt and Marshes: Participatory Mapping**

### **Brett Milligan 1,\*, Alejo Kraus-Polk <sup>2</sup> and Yiwei Huang <sup>3</sup>**

**and Design in a Watery Uncommons**


Received: 2 October 2020; Accepted: 15 November 2020; Published: 17 November 2020

**Abstract:** The Franks Tract State Recreation Area (Franks Tract) is an example of a complex contemporary park mired in ecological and socio-political contestation of what it is and should be. Located in the Sacramento-San Joaquin Delta, it is a central hub in California's immense and contentious water infrastructure; an accidental shallow lake on subsided land due to unrepaired levee breaks; a novel ecosystem full of 'invasive' species; a world-class bass fishing area; and a water transportation corridor. Franks Tract is an example of an uncommons: a place where multiple realities (or ontologies) exist, negotiate and co-create one another. As a case study, this article focuses on a planning effort to simultaneously improve water quality, recreation and ecology in Franks Tract through a state-led project. The article examines the iterative application of participatory mapping and web-based public surveys within a broader, mixed method co-design process involving state agencies, local residents, regional stakeholders, consultant experts and publics. We focus on what was learned in this process by all involved, and what might be transferable in the methods. We conclude that reciprocal iterative change among stakeholders and designers was demonstrated across the surveys, based on shifts in stakeholder preferences as achieved through iterative revision of design concepts that better addressed a broad range of stakeholder values and concerns. Within this reconciliation, the uncommons was retained, rather than suppressed.

**Keywords:** co-design; transdisciplinary practices; public participation geographic information system (PPGIS); softGIS; parks planning; Delta; structured decision-making

#### **1. Introduction**

#### *1.1. Background*

The Franks Tract State Recreation Area occupies two flooded areas of formerly reclaimed land, Franks Tract (3000 acres flooded since 1938) and Little Franks Tract (330 acres flooded since 1982), hereafter collectively referred to as Franks Tract, located in the Western Sacramento-San-Joaquin Delta of California (Delta) (Figure 1). These shallow, tidal lakes-novel to the Delta-were created after multiple levee failures, after which they were abandoned. They have since evolved into a major water recreation and navigation hub for the entire Delta. The tidal lake has also become the home of expanding numbers of aquatic introduced weeds that blanket its surface and fill the water column, making navigation difficult and deeply affecting local ecology. Franks Tract is dominated by predatory introduced species that thrive in these altered conditions, such as black bass, which support economically significant tournaments, but reduce the habitat value for critically endangered species such as Delta smelt and

Chinook salmon. As some have claimed, Franks Tract is more akin to a lake in Arkansas and its associated fish species, than a California Deltaic environment [1]. There are fishing tournaments year-round here. During March, April and May, there is a tournament every weekend, the largest of which can generate a half a million dollars in economic activity [2].

Franks Tract is also a problematic source of salinity intrusion into the western Delta from the saltier Bay. In increasingly frequent drought conditions, salinity threatens water supply reliability of regional diverters and contentious Delta exports [3,4]. These exports provide water to the Southern Bay Area, San Joaquin Valley agriculture, and Southern California cities, often at the expense of Delta ecology and local communities [5]. Franks Tract Futures (FTF) is the latest in a string of planning efforts seeking to address water supply reliability issues related to Franks Tract. Tied to water supply reliability are restoration mandates, which are "heavily driven by the detrimental effects of water exports and the reengineering of the Delta as logistical infrastructure for its conveyance" [6]. Restoration mandates across the Delta call for the recreation of tidal marshes, which were 98% eradicated during the diked reclamation of the region in the late 19th to early 20th century [7], along with the eradication of what was left of nomadic to semi-nomadic native American Delta tribes, which had been largely decimated by colonial persecution and European-introduced diseases prior to that time.

Current ecological restoration mandates for Franks Tract are guided by multitudes of scientific and legislative literature. A Delta Renewed [8] is an influential state-funded science-based guide that draws from extensive research on historical ecology [7], landscape change [9] and future scenarios to "discuss where and how to re-establish the dynamic natural processes that can sustain native Delta habitats and wildlife into the future" [8]. The guidelines in A Delta Renewed were specifically applied in initial FTF planning efforts to help set performance goals for conservation, including the size and design of tidal marshes and their dendritic channels.

Unlike previous planning efforts [10,11], the FTF effort has expanded goals of providing enhanced recreational opportunities and community benefits and benefiting native and desirable species by reestablishing lost ecological habitats and processes (The project website: https://franks-tract-futuresucdavis.hub.arcgis.com/). Thus the FTF effort exists within a dynamic context of interconnected efforts of landscape-scale mitigatory restoration, coordinated adaptation planning on public lands, and a massive and controversial proposed water conveyance project.

Similar conveyance projects, which originated as part of the State Water Project (SWP) and Federal Central Valley Project (CVP) but were never implemented, have been proposed several times. The current project entails a tunnel underneath the Delta that would allow water exports to draw water from the fresher Northern Delta, mitigating issues related to salinity intrusion, water quality and export restrictions related to the endangered species act. Over the course of the FTF project, a new governor took office and downsized the current proposal from two tunnels to one. Yet the project remains contentious, seen by many Delta locals as a water grab, and many FTF stakeholders were skeptical that the Franks Tract project was connected, for example by serving as a repository for *tunnel spoils*. As noted by Milligan and Kraus-Polk, regarding the Delta's indeterminate future water infrastructure, "Many plans to alter or sustain these logistical works are uncertain (both in execution, budget, and timeline) and likely to be changed and superseded by new propositions. Given the dominant agency of this planning arena, it renders planning in all others challenging and unpredictable" [6].

**Figure 1.** Co-evolution of Franks Tract: 1900-present.

We understand Franks Tract as a contested part of the Sacramento-San Joaquin Delta's far-flung infrastructural landscape, a boating highway, a world-class bass fishery, a novel ecosystem and a chronically underfunded state park. As such, we approach Franks Tract as an uncommons [12,13], meaning there are divergent realities and presuppositions of what the landscape is, all of which exist simultaneously and in relation to one another. Accordingly, our work attempted to engage with the diverse and entangled "ecologies of practice" of this place [14,15].

In practice, we contend that working within an uncommons, of which there are multitudes in the socio-political and ecological crises characterizing the current neo-liberal, late capitalist dominated Anthropocene era, entails accepting that planning and design processes begin and possibly end with a diversity of participant perspectives on what a landscape is and should be [16,17]. This acceptance requires the development and application of methods to "establish a shared understanding of knowledge for action across multiple knowledge domains," [18] or what is referred to as boundary objects [19–21]. Boundary objects are coproduced and adaptable to different viewpoints, but yet are also robust enough to maintain identity across those viewpoints. In co-planning and design contexts the creation of boundary objects can "allow local understanding and interests of participating groups to be reframed in the context of some wider collective activity, which can promote cooperation among stakeholders." [18] Franks tract, as the spatial milieu of an uncommons, is itself a boundary object. It is a place that is empirically present and aesthetically accessible to all who enter it. Yet it is used, valued and interpreted in radically different ways. To quote from Joan Nassauer, "While we might 'see' the landscape through different disciplinary or experiential frameworks, we can point to the same locations or relevant characteristics in a landscape or in a spatial representation of the landscape, and describe what we see there" [10].

In this manuscript, we will present a series of public surveys and co-mapping efforts as landscape boundary objects that facilitated the *boundary work* of "bridging boundaries between groups of people with differing views of what constitutes reliable or useful knowledge in a co-design process" [18,22] to engender mutual learning and equitable cooperation [23].

Some see Franks Tract as "nature" or "natural." Some understand Franks Tract, colonized with a fluctuating mix of native and introduced aquatic weeds, as ecologically broken. Those that rely on South Delta exports and diversions perceive Franks Tract as a threat to water supply reliability. For others, Franks Tract is working just fine, and any State-led intervention is unnecessary or malicious meddling: "If it ain't broke don't fix it". These and other ontological differences are part of the 'politics of nature' that defines many conservation challenges in the Anthropocene [24] in general and the Anthropocene Delta [25] in particular.

#### *1.2. The Need for Co-Design and E*ff*ective Transdisciplinary Practices in Park Planning*

Both national and state US park plans have a history of being imposed by outside actors with little to no regard for endemic inhabitants and their co-formative relationships to place, for example, Native Americans [26,27]. While there have been many examples of planners and designers of parks and protected areas considering affected communities, there remain many that have not [28]. There are several motivations driving a recent emphasis on public and stakeholder engagement. However, they can broadly be said to concern issues of social justice and ecological efficacy or some combination thereof, based on the understanding that communities affect and are strongly affected by park management [29]. Research on these social dimensions of parks has focused on collecting, analyzing and utilizing social knowledge. Methodologies include visitor counts, participatory mapping, surveys, interviews and focus groups, text analysis, meta-analyses, scenario planning, structured decision-making [30,31] and co-design.

Co-design broadly refers to designers and people and publics not trained in design, working collaboratively in the design development process [32]. In co-design, the team of participants design with, rather than for those who will use or inhabit the designed landscape, through meaningful and integral stakeholder engagement in the process [33]. We see co-design for parks and protected areas as challenging opportunities to improve upon transdisciplinary processes [34], in that a successful process must integrate and share knowledge from a variety of disciplines (such as engineering, design, social and physical sciences), with the knowledge and values of locals, publics and other stakeholders [35,36].

When properly employed, design research [37–44] can expose differences within the affected communities themselves, and find ways to integrate and design for those differences, especially in complex cultural landscapes with diverse social actors [6,37–39]. However, faulty or insufficient research may fail to discern differences [39,40]. False ascription of homogenous non-scientific perspectives, while perhaps convenient, can threaten the trust necessary for transdisciplinary collaboration. Grappling with difference is harder, but necessary for socially just and ecologically efficacious co-design [41].

Planners, designers, and managers have used participation geographic information systems (PPGIS) as one method to give voice to diverse user values in park and conservation planning [42,43]. Brown and Weber describe PPGIS as, " ... the practice of GIS and mapping at local levels to produce knowledge of place" [44]. PPGIS was developed to engage and empower user communities, especially marginalized populations [45], and deepen understanding of perceptions, preferences and spatial issues [46]. However, effective public participation can be challenging due to uneven power relations, level of participation, technological access and experience [47,48]. Moreover, as with other participatory methods, PPGIS can be "superficial, obligatory, or token" if no broader, meaningful engagement is encouraged by planning proponents [45]. These challenges persist despite methodological advances, expanded options and greater acceptance by academics, practitioners, and the public [45].

SoftGIS refers to an online PPGIS survey approach developed in response to some of the identified challenges associated with PPGIS, particularly the one-way interaction between communities and planners [49–52]. The "soft" refers to subjective, qualitative and experiential local knowledge as opposed to the "hard" knowledge of technical professional expertise [49,52]. A rationale for softGIS is that attaching soft knowledge to place by means of a planner-produced map-based survey renders it legible and thus usable in a planning context, where it can be processed alongside other spatial information [49]. For our purposes softGIS had the additional appeal of supporting relatively easy survey set-up and online data visualization. SoftGIS has primarily been deployed in urban planning contexts, however, it is applicable to conservation contexts [53], as well as park planning [49,50], as we will show.

Structured decision making (SDM) is a participatory decision analysis support tool that is considered a conservation social science method [31] and has been used by park planners [54]. SDM relies on clearly articulated objectives, recognition of scientific prediction and uncertainty and the transparent response to societal values to guide decision making [55]. SDM integrates technical information with value-based deliberation and seeks to provide a clearer picture of tradeoffs and uncertainties associated with complex decisions. Most importantly, the SDM approach focuses on reciprocal co-learning and knowledge production for all involved in the project.

The Franks Tract Futures planning effort highlights an innovative application of SoftGIS (in the form of map-based surveys), choreographed into a mixed-methods SDM process to create diverse knowledge for the co-design of a complex and politically fraught park landscape. Our effort proceeded with an awareness of some of the critiques of collaborative and communicative planning related to neglecting power and difference [56]. While we were drawing from established urban SoftGIS approaches, our application was adapted to the parks, public, and infrastructural context of Franks Tract as well as its diverse stakeholders and their varied familiarity with the process. Thus we created survey questions that were widely accessible, and assumed limited project background. While charting a path for collective future action and place remaking, the process and tools also gave representation to ontological differences and 'uncommon' understandings of what the park is or could be and applied those differences, rather than suppressing them.

We write as researchers and designers who participated in the Franks Tracts Futures planning effort's engagement and co-design components. While together we have more than a decade of experience working in the Delta, we began without any significant personal or research-related connection to Franks Tract. When planning and designing with Franks Tract, we recognize that we are engaging a wide array of people, including those who see Franks Tract as central to the way of life and livelihoods. We also sought to engage with, or at least consider potential or prospective users, such as those who might frequent Franks Tract should public access options expand or new recreational features be created. We recognize there is no way of determining this stakeholder population, and thus no way of conducting representative sampling. However, we did assume, based on previous experiences in the Delta, that stakeholders would hold particular sets of interests and many perspectives not held in common about what Franks Tract is, its past and its potential futures.

#### **2. Design Research Methods**

In this section, we detail the SoftGIS and other co-design research methods that were applied in the FTF park planning effort. We describe these methods in relation to the process, timing and sequencing of how they were developed and deployed. We feel this is the most effective way to detail the methods, since the FTF case study is useful both in terms of what it did and did not do well (it got off to a difficult start), and to detail how learning and adaptation might occur in transdisciplinary co-design efforts.

#### *2.1. Survey 1: First Feasibility Study*

Public engagement for FTF began with an initial Franks Tract feasibility study of a previously developed State plan for Franks Tract. The first survey was conducted from 12 December 2017, through 22 April 2018, after the inadvertent public release of the State plan, and thus captured responses to that design concept. The process was backwards, from a co-design perspective, as the design preceded public and stakeholder output. In developing the survey, we intended for it to

provide insights into the demographics and landscape values of a substantial group of people who live, work and play in and around Franks and Little Franks Tracts. (Community perspectives had been gathered as part of a 1985 State Parks planning initiative entitled the Optimum Plan [10]. Prior to that, there were community perspectives gathered as part of the writing of the State Parks general plan for Brannan Island and Franks Tract (which remain co-managed) [57], and as part of a Parks general plan for Brannan Island and Franks Tract (which remain co-managed) [57], and as part of a February 25, 1972, California Senate hearing on Natural Resources and Wildlife [58]. However, little information existed on present-day use). These insights would aid the design refinement of a project that recognized the multiple values of Franks Tract. Thus instead of creative input, we largely received critical feedback on a design concept that only met narrow, state defined criteria, actualized in a manner that was perceived as detrimental to those who live, work and recreate in the area (We attribute the large response numbers, relative to other surveys conducted in the area, to the availability of the early design plan, and the strong response it generated).

The feasibility study recognized its flawed process whereby public engagement came after plan formulation. As part of this recognition, the study highlighted an alternative plan developed by a local resident that was fostered by our outreach and interview efforts. The limited but positive reception of the "locally proposed alternative" indicated the potential for a design that addressed certain local concerns. The study's recommendations, supported by the Delta Conservation Framework, which was being developed simultaneously, called for early, consistent and transparent public engagement in any future co-design/co-planning process [59].

The feasibility survey was complemented by a series of in person, semi-informal interviews with multiple stakeholders, wherein we were able to ask similar questions, but also had the chance to ask follow-up questions and questions prompted by the online survey. The survey was anonymous and any identifying information that was provided was erased prior to analysis (Data was collected in a Google Sheet that was synced to the live Google Form. The Google Sheet was converted to .csv and .xlsl for analysis in various platforms including Excel, Qualtrics, MaxQDA, Kepler.gl, and R. Each tool allowed for a different view of the data and we found that using one would raise certain questions that would inform our use of the other. After considerable experimentation, we decided to use Qualtrics XM and RStudio 1.1.463 for the majority of the quantitative and qualitative analysis. The geospatial analysis was conducted in Kepler.gl and Excel 2019). Quantitative analysis was conducted using Cross Tabs in Qualtrics and pivot tables in Excel. Self-defined user category was the primary variable used to group responses. Analysis of quantitative variables such as age, length of relation to Franks Tract, and visitation frequency was then conducted within and between groups). See Appendix A. for initial feasibility study survey results.

Our recommendation at the end of the feasibility study stated that the, "community is wary of significant change to the region as well as any top-down decision-making that does not take their interests into account" [60]. And that "local communities are highly interested in being involved in the design and planning process for any potential changes to Franks and Little Franks Tracts" [60]. The study resolved that "more detailed restoration planning will take into account the social, economic, and recreational interests of the affected local communities and user groups" [60]. Reflecting on the conclusion of the feasibility study, we noted that the value of the survey remains contingent on the willingness and ability of facilitators, designers, planners and managers to integrate this information into this next phase of thinking about the coevolution of Franks Tract and the diverse group of people and communities who have a relationship to it.

#### *2.2. Survey 2: User Survey*

The second survey was part of a follow-up, and highly revised planning effort built upon the lessons learned from the previous efforts (see Figure 2). The survey was conducted from 11 July 2019 through 13 September 2019.

**Figure 2.** Survey sequence diagram showing the location of the surveys in the overall project timeline.

The primary focus of the second FTF planning effort was determining if a multi-value project could be designed to benefit local and regional communities (by addressing concerns raised in the first effort and via the creation of recreational amenities), and to minimize detrimental impacts of the project to these same communities, while still meeting ecological and water quality goals. The FTF engagement process started in June 2019 and ended in September 2020 (For more information see Final Report Appendix A. Public and Stakeholder Engagement: https://ucdavis.box.com/s/hl3qpglcu9ibf919sfby1txeb8qu6unl). The effort began with creating a steering and advisory committee, which participated in regular design charrettes and reviews. At the packed, public kickoff meeting (approximately 150 attendants), the team openly solicited feedback on the objectives of the project, described the structured decision planning process and expressed a commitment to meaningful engagement with the public to co-design the project design concepts.

The project team pursued this design challenge by engaging the public and stakeholders throughout the design process. During the co-design process, a diverse group of experts in different realms were involved in the design development, including engineers, scientists, public agency representatives, boaters, fishers, hunters and local residents and business owners all contributing their own knowledge of the landscape as well as unique, i.e., uncommon, perspectives. The project team used multiple engagement methods, including two map-based surveys and a non-map-based survey, iterative stakeholder-driven research by design, group and individual interviews, and two public meetings, including a webinar necessitated by COVID 19 restrictions on public gatherings.

Structured decision making (SDM) was used as a decision analysis tool to develop and evaluate performance criteria related to these multiple interests and concerns. The SDM approach was also used to guide and integrate technical design and engagement results during planning. Design and engagement results were integrated using a research by design [61] approach in which design concepts were iteratively refined and narrowed down through inclusive rounds of review by participants, including advisory and steering committee members. Refinements occurred primarily during in-person meetings with the steering and advisory committee. Public meetings provided another opportunity for broader public participation. Map-based surveys were the primary platform for public participation in the co-design process. Surveys were conducted at the start and finish of a second planning round, after initial comments from the public kickoff meeting were integrated.

The user survey, launched at the public project kickoff meeting, was intended to collect information on where and how people recreate in Franks Tract and identify areas of Franks Tract that were deemed to need improvement and where tidal marsh might optimally (or least detrimentally) be located within the shallow lake. After extensive research on map-based survey platforms we selected Maptionnaire, "an advanced example of PPGIS methodology enabling the mapping of environmental experiences, daily behaviour practices and localised knowledge and ideas for spatial development" [50]. See Appendix B for a link to the no longer active survey (Quantitative analysis was conducted in

google sheets and Excel. Spatial analysis was conducted in ArcGIS Pro 2.6.1). We chose this platform, in part, because it allowed for intensive customization and data transferability across other software platforms, per our specific needs. Asking demographic questions, informed by the previous feasibility survey, enabled an analysis of the relationship between demographic variables, such as age, income, area of residence, user category and perspectives. The maps created from this survey are crowdsourced and user-drawn rather than primarily authored, and composed or decided on by the consultant team (Figure 3). We also asked participants to rank concerns and state their perspective regarding climate change in relation to Franks Tract.

The project team used the information solicited from the second survey to revise design features, which were then presented and discussed in the following design charrettes and later publicly on the project website. During the design charrettes, steering and advisory committee members had another opportunity to modify the designs and ask questions.

**Figure 3.** Image of the user survey interface.

#### *2.3. Survey 3: Design Concept Survey*

The design concept survey gathered feedback on three design concepts that were developed with input from the previous survey, and the FTF advisory and steering committees. Before taking this survey, we encouraged participants to attend or watch a recording of a live webinar (129 registrants), which presented all the design concepts and how they were developed.

We designed the design concept survey using an updated version of the same Maptionnaire platform for user familiarity. Photographs, rendered images, flyover videos (See Appendix D for links to concept flyover videos), and links to the previous survey results were embedded within the survey to provide project background and give a better sense of the proposed concepts. The survey was designed to allow participants to indicate what they like, didn't like and ask questions spatially. After placing a like or dislike pin, follow-up questions related to location and access were asked in order to discern the reasons for liking or disliking a feature more clearly. A question pin could also be placed by participants to ask about a specific location or feature (Figure 4). The third survey also contained a final question where participants were asked to rank the design concepts and no action alternative. See Appendix C for a link to the defunct design concept survey. (3D models of the designs were created in Lumion 10 to produce animated flyovers. Detailed still renderings of site features-such as beaches, day use areas and waterfowl hunting ponds, were finessed in Adobe Photoshop CC 2019. Quantitative analysis was conducted in google sheets and Excel. Spatial analysis was conducted in ArcGIS Pro).

**Figure 4.** Image of the design concept survey interface.

#### **3. Results**

#### *3.1. Survey 1. Feasibility Survey*

Feasibility survey results provided a picture of participant demographics, the majority of which are older, local and identified as the boater or angler category (Figure 5). The majority of participants provided a local zip code of residence; however, participants were distributed across California as well as adjacent states. The presence of participants on Franks Tract is seasonally influenced and dependent on type of activity and affiliations, but overall is heavily used and recreated in year-round, with activity highest in the summer (Figure 6). Of note, approximately 45% of survey respondents (308 of 728) were firmly against the project, and preferred that Franks Tract be left as it is.

Extensive qualitative survey results captured the strong response to the initial state proposal map (Table 1) and a widespread desire for Franks Tract to be left alone (Table 2). Survey responses were coded inductively for themes and subthemes, although there were similar themes from the previous survey. The subthemes included in Tables 1 and 2 include major concerns that emerged through other modes of engagement.

**Figure 5.** Which user category do you identify with most?

**Figure 6.** Calendar chart derived from categorized responses to the question: In what months are you out in Franks Tract or Little Franks Tract? Note October through November corresponds to the duck hunting season.


**Table 1.** Select sampling of state distrust/dissatisfaction survey responses.


#### *3.2. Survey 2. User Survey*

User survey results reassessed user demographics and types from the previous survey, and created new knowledge of geospatial use patterns in and around Franks Tract as well as divergent perspectives on Franks Tract's potential futures. See Table 3 for main geospatial takeaways and associated figures.


**Figure 7.** If tidal marsh areas are created in Franks Tract, where would they be best located? Where would they have the least detrimental impacts and greatest amenity value (such as new hunting opportunities, wildlife viewing, non-motorized boating, etc.) for how you and others use Franks Tract? How could tidal marsh be designed for recreational uses (I.e., hunting, fishing, kayaking, boating)?

The user survey had roughly the same demographic composition of participants as the feasibility survey. The user survey results related to activities and desires validated those of the feasibility survey and other methods of research and engagement while adding a spatial dimension that could more directly inform concept co-design.

The results from the public access-related questions both indicate (spatially) where public access is desired and allude to a tension between those who support greater public access (51.6%) and those who do not (48.4%). The relationship between distance from Franks Tract of participant's zip code and their public access perspectives proved statistically insignificant. However, a tension between locals and visitors became evident in later design charrettes, primarily related to the impact of new, free public access on existing businesses on Bethel Island that charge for access.

Results indicate the persistence of concerns related to the site and smell of tidal marsh that were raised in the initial feasibility study. Desired locations tended to be located in the Northeast of Franks Tract furthest away from the waterfront residence and business on Bethel Island, as well as in Little Franks Tract.

The map-based questions' results were directly integrated into the iterative concept design process, particularly the siting of public access, the preservation of highly trafficked boating routes, and the general preference for marsh placement in the North and Northeastern portion of Franks Tract. The geospatial data was analyzed in ArcGIS Pro and the preliminary results were presented in the August advisory and steering committee meeting before the design charrette. By overlaying the results on top of each other as semitransparent layers, a strong correlation showed up in terms of improvement areas (Figure 11) and preferred marshland best locations (Figure 12).

**Figure 8.** (**a**) Tidal marsh survey responses. (**b**) Superimposed on preferred alternative.

The visualizations of the first survey sparked conversation of meeting participants, allowing for more thinking on the pros and cons of proposed marshland configurations. The geospatial result was compared with other sources of spatially explicit knowledge that was co-produced during design charrettes and stakeholder interviews, and was also made available to the public through an online interactive map hosted on the project website. These maps allowed users to explore both the spatial data (points, lines, and polygons) and the associated qualitative data (map-based comments). Sharing the data in this way increased transparency and trust building, which is a critical factor in engendering equitable PPGIS approaches [50].

**Figure 9.** Where do you recreate and what activities do you do at this location? Results indicate the diversity of recreational uses and their use patterns across Franks Tract. Fishing appears to be most common along the vegetated remnant levees, which was validated in conversations with local anglers.

**Figure 10.** What are your regular boating routes across and within Franks Tract? Results indicate that Franks Tract is a major boating hub for both trips within Franks Tract as well navigation in the greater region. Results also reveal distinct traffic flow patterns across and within Franks Tract itself.

**Figure 11.** Where are desired sites for public access? What would you like to see? Results indicate that public access points are desired throughout Franks Tract, especially on the Bethel Island shoreline on Franks Tract's West side. Common types of access included non-motorized and motorized launch sites as well as general public access to the water, which is non-existent currently. Contradictory opinions were presented at a later design workshop by Bethel Island residents and business owners.

(**a**) (**b**)

**Figure 12.** Where are the areas in Franks Tract that most need improvement? What improvements can be made? Results identify many types of desired improvement throughout Franks Tract, with some comments in opposition. Common improvements include addressing boating hazards (which includes removal of weeds, snags, submerged levee remnants and deepening of shallow areas).

#### *3.3. Survey 3. Concept Design Survey*

Concept design survey results include substantial and detailed consideration (likes and dislikes) of the design concepts. This result alone represents a significant change from the feasibility survey, where nearly all the comments on the plan were negative. Participants still voiced similar concerns as those collected in the feasibility survey. However, there were also new concerns and detailed

design questions (such as placement of features, the design of tidal marsh to optimize recreational and ecological benefits) that indicate an investment in a future for Franks Tract other than the continuation of a status quo.

The above figure (Figure 13) represents the average comparative ranking for each concept scenario, with 4 corresponding to the lowest ranking and 1 corresponding to the highest on average the Design Concept B (Central landmass) was the highest ranked (2.35). The NAA (No Action Alternative) was the lowest-ranked (2.66), but only by a small margin with Design Concept A (2.60). (Open water berm and channel) only closely ahead, and Design Concept C (Eastern Landmass) slightly more preferred (2.49).

**Figure 13.** Boating route survey responses (white lines) superimposed on the preferred alternative.

What is notable in the design concept survey is that there was, on average, similar support across the NAA and the design concepts (Figure 14). Such similarity implies that there was considerably more 'most preferred' voting for the design concepts (collectively) than for the NAA. Specifically, although 36 (39%) respondents chose the NAA as their most preferred option over two times as many (75) selected at least one of the three design concepts as their most preferred, suggesting significantly higher preferences overall for the design concepts over a NAA.

Supportive comments for the NAA focused on unique features such as open water, spawning areas, fishing, hunting, good flows and access. Some respondents were concerned that these features might be lost or diminished if a project were implemented.

**Figure 14.** Overall comparative ranking of design concepts.

However, there were also supportive comments regarding potential modifications with the design concepts that could enhance these unique existing features, address current concerns and create new opportunities based on improved navigability, additional features and the general diversification of Franks Tract (Figure 15).

**Figure 15.** No Action Alternative (NAA) community comments. (**a**) Places or features you dislike for NAA (**b**) Places or features you like for NAA.

Beaches were a common liked feature across the design concepts. However, there were concerns voiced about their proximity to hunting areas and their potential to become too popular and thus an attractive nuisance. There was a recurrent concern voiced regarding the channel widths and navigability in the design concepts. Comments to this effect included potential problems with inexperienced boaters, the narrowness of the channels and the hazard created by adjacent tidal marsh. There were also concerns that channels would silt in.

In general, there was widespread support for the proposed modifications to Little Franks Tract (which were the same across all design concepts). There were concerns raised about the potential exclusion of motorized boats in the area. Some thought this unfair, while others questioned the accessibility of the area for non-motorized boaters. Others were supportive of the idea of a portion of Franks Tract in which motorized boats are excluded.

There were many comments across all concepts related to hunting. Several voiced concerns about the potential eradication of existing hunting opportunities, where others appeared supportive of new marsh-based hunting opportunities, often contingent upon the resolution of access issues, and the inclusion of hunter preferences in the marsh habitat design. There were also concerns about the potential conflict between hunting and other recreational activities, especially where hunting and recreational features might be nearby.

Comments diverged regarding the benefits of creating marshlands and dividing Franks Tract into two separate water bodies (Figure 16). While many supported the idea based on improved navigability, habitat, and recreation, others were concerned about navigation, local businesses, aesthetics and existing recreational opportunities. Participants commented on mosquitoes and the marsh smell, which had come up in previous surveys and elsewhere in the process.

**Figure 16.** Concept B (the preferred concept)-Central Landmass community comments. (**a**) Places or features you dislike for Concept B (**b**) Places or features you like for Concept B.

As with the second user survey, geospatial results were shared with the public through an online interactive map hosted on the project website. Ranking results were also included. These results were shared shortly after the release of the final report, and although they were not integrated into the final designs, they are now available to the public and other stakeholders and can be used to inform future design development.

#### **4. Discussion**

The approximate demographic makeup of survey participants was consistent and similar across all three surveys (Figure 17). The majority of the participants were local, and most participants categorized themselves as boaters or anglers, which we understand to be the most prevalent Tract activities.

**Figure 17.** Comparing participant categories across surveys.

These surveys were some of our primary means of co-creating knowledge with a very broad public, and were combined with public and stakeholder meetings, design workshops, social media and other forms of stakeholder engagement. Echoing Kahila-Tani et al., these map-based surveys [50] were an important tool for the deliberative phase of a sensitive and complex planning project. Making the collected data visible allows for and catalyzes collective analysis and debate, during which for all involved, planners and the public alike, assumptions can be questioned, and perceptions can shift.

To our knowledge, no prior survey has been performed targeting those who live, work and play in and around Franks Tract. What little information exists from past surveys indicates that those who responded to our survey are quantitatively distinct from the average Delta recreationalist. Past engagement with Franks Tract users indicates a concern with safety, conservation, and recreation that resonates with the concerns of our survey respondents [10,58]. Our response numbers were substantial compared to other surveys conducted in the region. Whereas past surveys focused on regional boating and recreation [62–64], ours were more geographically specific and sought to identify broader use trends as well as perspectives related to landscape change.

We recognize we have no way of knowing whether we surveyed a representative sample of those who live, work or play in Franks Tract currently or may be inclined to do so in the future. We used an aggressive, multi-pronged approach to dissemination that included local and regional canvassing, social and conventional media, duck hunting forums and direct emails to hunting permit holders. Yet based on comments on social media and responses to the draft report, there remained some people who are unaware of the project or its particulars. Additional follow-up approaches to reach these people were not attempted due to time, limited financial resources and COVID-19 restrictions on attempting in-person survey methods.

Given our dissemination approach, we cannot discern a response rate. However, we did see decreasing participation numbers from survey 1 through survey 3. This decrease could be attributed to a variety of factors, including the length of time the surveys were open, which also decreased from survey 1 through survey 3, as well as accessibility associated with the map-based surveys (2,3). We also note the possibility that the decrease in participation could also be attributed to increased acceptance, or at least decreased outrage about the design of the project.

Looking across the sequence of surveys, we can observe a measurable shift in perspective away from a no-action alternative. The first survey unintentionally captured initial reactions to a remarkably unpopular State plan prepared without public input. When asked, "Are there any suggestions you have for the future design and management of Franks Tract/Little Franks Tract?" roughly 45% of participants responded that Franks Tract should be left alone. The second survey was launched at the beginning of a new round of public engagement and co-design. When asked, "What are your other concerns related to Franks Tract?" approximately 40% either expressed concern with a potential project or a desire for Franks Tract to be kept or left as it is. However, this survey also revealed more

diversity in user opinions, as revealed when asked how Franks Tract could be improved or modified according to their desires, which resulted in a wide range of suggestions, some common and some not, and dissatisfaction with the status quo. The third survey asked participants to rank three design concepts and the NAA. Results showed nearly equal support across both the design concepts as well as the NAA. Though it is difficult to empirically draw firm conclusions from the surveys regarding increased acceptance of the project's ecological and water quality goals specifically, comments at project meetings and project presentations with stakeholders, the public and the advisory committee highly support this conclusion as being expressed in the final survey responses. Specific to ecological goals, as these were expanded beyond the state's initial focus on Delta Smelt to a broader and equal support for additional threatened species (with commercial value) and sport fish, as well as upland species, like waterfowl for hunting, ecological goals gained more acceptance.

While the three surveys empirically showed demonstrable shifts in attitudes and movement towards proactive design interventions for Franks Tract (in contrast to the NAA) what we also consistently read across the surveys was ontological diversity-a plurality of realities and notions of what Franks Tract currently is to various persons and constituencies. Those plural views configured themselves around proposed changes to the landscape. There remains a strongly voiced contingency that rejects any intervention on multiple grounds, ranging from the conspiratorial who see a "water grab", whereby Delta exporters are seeking to take more water (through the improved water quality the project would provide), to the skeptics who want examples of similar successful projects before they can support a project in the place they love. There remains a contingency that sees Franks Tract as *Nature* and intervention as hubristic and doomed to fail.

There were certain features that were identified in the user survey and design charrettes that prompted considerable design effort, with input from the advisory committee members and technical support from project team members. One example is a particularly dangerous blind corner located in the Southeast corner of Franks Tract, where multiple navigation routes intersect and wave and wind action are prevalent. The results from the concept design survey indicate recognition of efforts to make this corner safer as well as unresolved issues. We bring this up as an example of the benefits of and need for sustained and iterative co-design as well as the importance of humility. Rather than seeing persistent concern as a failure, we embrace it as an indication of engagement.

There appears to be a growing contingency that sees the FTF project as a way to advance or enhance their interests, or at the least, arrest an undesirable decline. We see in the growth of this contingency evidence of what Seijger et al. refer to as the affective and informal "soft implementation" related to shifting prospects for change that precedes the "hard implementation" of more formal and detailed project plans [65]. If our observation is correct, this in itself would constitute a success based on the objectives and expectations for the planning process.

We feel it is important to emphasize that the learning and knowledge creation involved in this "soft implementation" was in no way exclusive to the public. The placement of the surveys throughout the planning process exemplify different approaches to knowledge mobilization that provide lessons for the project team and the agencies involved. The flaws of the feasibility study were clear in the results of the feasibility survey and provided the impetus for the more participatory approach of the user survey. The design concept survey reaffirmed a commitment to co-design and the results validate its efficacy. Each survey alone would have had limited influence. However, cumulatively the surveys created, mobilized and applied knowledge, in what we hope will continue to be an iterative cycle of reflexive co-design.

In this way, the sequence of surveys informed and contributed to an iterative co-design process. Although the surveys were not the only means of collecting information that informed the design, they were the most inclusive of a broader stakeholder public. Additional information was solicited from an advisory and stakeholder committee and consultation with biologists, recreation consultants, economists, engineers and hydrologic modelers. In line with Brown and others, we recognize these methods of engagement as critical irrespective of the PPGIS [45].

#### **5. Conclusions**

In their review of two decades of PPGIS application, Brown et al. argue that "the mapping of place values will need to become more than a spatial technology enhancement to public participation, but a political force that can compete against powerful interests that currently dominate land-use decision processes at multiple levels of government [47].

Our role in the Franks Tract project was to use co-design research methods to inform multi-value project design in a complex and contentious park landscape. We employed softGIS surveys to bridge identified gaps, related primarily to ease of use and accessibility, between many research-oriented PPGIS methodologies and the practices of meaningful participatory planning [51]. SoftGIS supported the iterative creation of relatively inexpensive surveys by members of the planning team as well as the creation of online visualization tools.

The surveys and co-mapping techniques deployed in the FTF project provided tangible, co-generated representations of Franks Tract as a contested boundary object. It did so within a larger, multi-faceted co-design process (that included meetings, design workshops, structured decision making techniques, iterative design development and modeling, etc.) that allowed for the consultant team and all involved to perform the needed work of "bridging boundaries between groups of people with differing views of what constitutes reliable or useful knowledge in a co-design process" [18,22].

Rather than suppress diverse conceptions of what Franks Tract is, ways it is inhabited, and what it may become, we sought to find ways that those realities and virtual desires could co-exist in new design configurations. The map-based surveys were strategically timed within the design process, generating spatially explicit public feedback when it was most influential and usable. These surveys co-created knowledge about what Franks Tract is becoming and could become without design intervention and provided space for more qualitative descriptions of preference and desires, informing and being informed by categorical and spatial responses. This feedback was incorporated with input from advisor and steering committee members and technical experts into a structured decision-making framework. The concept designs that emerged sought to integrate these shared understandings in the form of desired design features.

Yet despite structured decision-making efforts to include these understandings and transparently address conflict and tradeoff, there remains some skepticism of the designs based on different understandings of what the landscape fundamentally is and how it should be used and inhabited. Rather than seeing the persistence of ontological differences or understandings not held in common (i.e., uncommons) as a failure, we recognize their inevitability in such complex and contentious planning processes. Furthermore, we advocate for the inclusion of the uncommons in this and other consensus-building processes, and exploring the degree to which the spatio-physical design of the landscape can embody and facilitate this diversity.

Questions of representation associated with survey sampling remain. Our non-probability sampling methods, which included convenience, purposive and snowball, were required based on our judgment, due to an unknown and sometimes hard to reach population. While our surveys had a diversity of participants, we cannot know whether these participants represent the diversity and distribution of those who live, work and play in Franks Tract currently or may in the future. This issue will likely occur in other applied project-based planning research.

Based on our study results (and above caveats) we conclude that the potential for a co-designed, multi-value design concept for Franks Tract that can preserve and enhance existing desirable features, while also emplacing new values, is "feasible", and becoming more widely embraced by stakeholders [66]. For this reason, we see the combination of map-based surveys and structured decision making as a viable approach for the co-design of multi-value landscapes, including parks and protected areas.

The FTF futures effort was a conceptual feasibility study, though a very thorough and detailed one at that. To move forward, state agencies will have to build support for the design concept and find ways to fund construction and long-term maintenance for a massive, unique type of eco-social-techno infrastructure. Also, like other feasibility and landscape planning efforts, additional rounds of more detailed planning and design will need to happen if the project does garner widespread support. How this will all be approached and whether or not there will be fidelity to the final FTF report, remains to be seen. Will all the recreational features carry through? Will long term Park maintenance remain a priority? The indeterminacy of what will happen leaves us with many questions about how co-design processes and the trust, knowledge and understanding they build can be sustained beyond conception through construction and long-term stewardship.

**Author Contributions:** B.M. and A.K.-P. contributed to conceptualization and methodology; A.K.-P., B.M., Y.H. contributed to formal analysis, Investigation, and writing original draft preparation; B.M. contributed to resources, supervision, project administration, funding acquisition; B.M. and A.K.-P. contributed to data curation; B.M., A.K.-P., Y.H. contributed to writing, review & editing; B.M., A.K.-P., Y.H. contributed to visualization. All authors have read and agreed to the published version of the manuscript.

**Funding:** Funding for the Franks Tract Futures project was provided by the Safe Drinking Water, Water Quality and Supply, Flood Control, River and Coastal Protection Bond Act of 2006 (Proposition 84). Alejo Kraus-Polk and Brett Milligan were funded by the California Department of Water Resources under grant number 4600012167.

**Acknowledgments:** The authors would like to acknowledge that this project took place on the traditional lands of the plains Miwok in the Delta. We would also like to thank our fellow Franks Tract Futures project team members as well as the members of the steering committee, advisory committee and public for their trust, knowledge sharing and co-making of the FTF conceptual designs.

**Conflicts of Interest:** The authors declare no conflict of interest.

#### **Appendix A**

The survey appendix from the initial feasibility study can be accessed here: https://ucdavis.box. com/s/wexg2o6atl8jd6ikznbbkmq3wzua244s.

#### **Appendix B**

The no longer active user survey (survey 2.) can be found here: https://app.maptionnaire.com/en/ 6547/.

#### **Appendix C**

The no longer active design concept survey (survey 3.) can be found here: https://new.maptionnaire. com/q/62k27e2783g6.

#### **Appendix D**

Concept A flyover: https://youtu.be/DEEQ9Xh0amU; Concept B flyover: https://youtu.be/ T6h9FxsRFVg; Concept C flyover: https://youtu.be/xJQi7AMSQCQ.

#### **References**


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## *Article* **Knowledge Mobilization in the Beaver Hills Biosphere, Alberta, Canada**

#### **Clara-Jane Blye 1,\*, Elizabeth A. Halpenny 1, Glen T. Hvenegaard <sup>2</sup> and Dee Patriquin <sup>3</sup>**


Received: 1 August 2020; Accepted: 29 October 2020; Published: 31 October 2020

**Abstract:** This study explores how knowledge was and is mobilized to advance the objectives of the Beaver Hills Biosphere Reserve, located in Alberta, Canada. Established in 2016, a 12-year collaborative effort worked to establish the biosphere reserve and achieve formal UNESCO designation. Subsequent efforts to grow the newly established biosphere reserve have accelerated in recent years. Our study documented how different types of knowledge were accessed, created, curated, and shared between partners during these two time periods. Focus group interviews were conducted with 14 participants, who are affiliated with Beaver Hills Biosphere Reserve partner organizations, and revealed the following findings: (1) not all knowledge is equally valued or understood; (2) partnerships are highly valued, and were essential to successful knowledge mobilization, but were stronger among individuals rather than organizations; (3) fear of the loss of autonomy and potential complications due to the establishment of a biosphere reserve slowed the exchange of information and engagement by some regional actors; and (4) knowledge mobilization is and was impeded by staff and agency capacity, finances, and time scarcity. This was further complicated by entrenched norms of practice, existing successful working relationships impeding the development of new partnerships, and embracing alternative forms of knowledge.

**Keywords:** knowledge mobilization; social science; natural science; local knowledge; traditional knowledge; indigenous knowledge; parks and protected areas management; biosphere reserve

#### **1. Introduction**

Biosphere reserves, whose objectives include biodiversity conservation, sustainable development, and capacity building in support of education, research and learning, provide a rich context in which to study knowledge mobilization. Centered on protected areas with strong preservationist and conservation goals, biosphere reserves lie within highly modified landscapes that host evolving and diverse livelihood activities and complex human–environment interactions. Typically, biosphere reserves are managed regionally, by park and other governmental agencies, environmental non-government organizations (ENGOs), research institutions and other partners. Biosphere designation recognizes the capacity to share and generate new understandings of the socio-economic and natural aspects of the landscape among these partners, to achieve regional, coordinated land management through collaboration. This complexity demands the application of different types of knowledge to achieve sustainability and ensure the continuity and celebration of the "sites of excellence" contained within these biosphere reserves. Studying how knowledge is mobilized to achieve biosphere reserve objectives can support the efforts of partners engaged in the collaborative management of biosphere reserves, and is the focus of this paper.

Knowledge mobilization is defined here as the movement of knowledge into active service for the broadest possible common good [1]. Knowledge may include findings from natural and social science studies, or humanities and arts-based research, the accumulated knowledge and experience of these researchers, or the accumulated knowledge of stakeholders and rightsholders concerned with the issues that the knowledge is being mobilized to address [1–4]. Knowledge exchange [5] is a term that is frequently used by environmental management researchers to represent similar actions and meanings. A wide range of activities can be encompassed by knowledge mobilization, but may include knowledge transfer, knowledge translation, knowledge management, knowledge production and creation, and knowledge action [3,4]. In this paper we discuss knowledge that is generated through scientific methods, informed by disciplinary traditions of agreed to principles or processes of study, including reliability and validity [6]. We also include other ways of knowing about the landscape, including the local experience of recreation, work, and residence within a specific ecological setting [3,7,8], traditional ecological knowledge (TEK) [9], and Indigenous knowledge. We consider local knowledge as distinct from TEK in that "the former has been derived from more recent human–environment interactions (e.g., a few generations) rather than being embedded in deeper cultural practices" [6]. We define Indigenous knowledge as local knowledge held by Indigenous peoples, or local knowledge unique to a given culture or society [10]. We acknowledge that Indigenous knowledge and TEK share characteristics, yet TEK has an explicit ecological emphasis [11].

#### *1.1. Study Objectives*

Through this study, our research team documented the diverse experiences of agencies and partners within the Beaver Hills Biosphere (BHB)1, in their engagement with different forms of knowledge. The BHB provided an excellent case study location, given its structure and governance. The group includes federal and provincial park agencies and five municipal governments who manage lands within the BHB, as well as research, ENGO and industry organizations with active interests in the landscape. The BHB is a voluntary collaboration of these partners, and members participate as time and capacity allows, on working groups and projects contributing to regional and more localized management objectives. Such projects offer the potential to share knowledge generated and maintained through social and natural science, as well as Indigenous (i.e., Canadian First Nations and Metis), traditional ecological and local knowledge systems. We asked how park and conservation agencies, as a central component of biosphere reserves, as well as other land managers within the BHB, such as municipalities and NGOs are able to (or not) access knowledge when making management decisions. In addition, we focused on how the Beaver Hills Initiative (BHI) in particular used knowledge to create a biosphere reserve, inclusive of its eventual successful designation in 2016 (i.e., the BHB), supported by the knowledge mobilization efforts of its partners and how being a biosphere reserve allows for the ongoing use of knowledge mobilization amongst partners.

Study findings highlight some of the challenges and successes the biosphere reserve partners have experienced when it comes to knowledge mobilization. Our observations will assist the BHB, other biosphere reserves, and similar collectively managed landscapes in their efforts to achieve more effective and efficient [5] knowledge mobilization to attain sustainability and sustainable development.

#### *1.2. Literature Review*

Parks and protected areas must manage for a diverse set of goals, including protection, conservation, and visitor enjoyment [12]. The majority of parks-related scientific effort has focused on the monitoring and management of natural systems and elements within park boundaries, e.g., [13]. However, the protection of this natural heritage is intertwined with economic, social, and cultural interests,

<sup>1</sup> The Beaver Hills Biosphere has chosen to call itself a "Biosphere", not a Biosphere reserve. We have therefore chosen the acronym "BHB" for the Beaver Hills Biosphere and will refer to Biosphere Reserves in more generic applications.

within and adjacent to their boundaries, and thus, park managers must access and use knowledge from a wide variety of disciplines outside of their normal information sources to make effective management decisions [14]. Unfortunately, the use of Indigenous [15–18], local [6,19,20] and social science [21,22] sourced knowledge to inform park and larger ecosystem management efforts remains limited.

Environmental management and park-related knowledge mobilization challenges have been documented previously [5,23,24]. However, this dialogue has largely focused on the use of natural science research and achieving nature conservation rather than other mandates such as social benefits. The importance of social forces that affect environmental and park management has been documented by park researchers [25,26], practitioners [27–30], and overviews of social science in conservation efforts [4,14,21,22,31,32].

In Alberta, a recent research priority setting exercise emphasized the need for social science research in protected area management [33]. Based on a series of regional and provincial workshops with parks staff and experts, 64% of the questions generated related to social science topics (including policy and economics). This trend is not unique to Alberta [22,34] or to protected areas [32]. Key gaps include an understanding of the processes that can facilitate knowledge creation and exchange [2,5], including interactions between actors [4], and the role of context as an influence on that process [2,4]. These researchers and others call for study further study of the factors that shape knowledge mobilization, including its creation, management, sharing, use.

In making decisions, many studies show that people and agencies more often draw on intuition, personal experience, collective experience, and other types of informal knowledge, rather than on empirical or evidence-based information [35,36]. Critical barriers have been identified as inhibiting knowledge exchange among scientists and decision-makers involved in land and park management [2,21]. These barriers include the inaccessibility of science to decision-makers, poor communication among knowledge generators and potential users, inadequate training, as well as capacity issues and cultural, institutional and personal perception (worldview) barriers that limit the extent to which scientists and decision-makers can participate meaningfully in knowledge exchange activities [2,35,37,38]. In Canadian parks, the top barriers for accessing and using evidence for management and planning were limited financial resources, lack of staff, lack of time, inadequate timeframes for decision-making, lack of monitoring programs, and the disconnect between researchers and decision-makers [39]. Barriers to knowledge mobilization will vary by type of knowledge (e.g., for Indigenous knowledge see [15–17] and, for local knowledge studies see [17,20,40]). Generation of, access to, and use of knowledge derived from Western science (natural or social science), local, or Indigenous knowledge are characterized by different barriers and potential solutions.

Various solutions have been proposed or used to mobilize knowledge more effectively and efficiently. These include educating knowledge generators about the policy-making process, educating decision-makers about the research process, reforms to institutional environments, using knowledge brokers, establishing job exchanges, and other informal mechanisms to share ideas (e.g., workshops, training events, and brainstorming sessions) [2,41].

#### *1.3. Biosphere Reserves*

UNESCO's biosphere reserves are areas designated based on their high social and ecological significance and their capacity to demonstrate sustainable development principles. Introduced under the UNESCO Man and the Biosphere (MAB) Programme in 1969, biosphere reserves are settled landscapes, with a core protected area or areas surrounded by a buffer zone of lower impact land use and beyond that, a transition area with higher levels of human activity. Importantly, these are areas where people live and work within a natural landscape: sustainable development is a key goal of land management in all zones, and requires collaborative land management among land management agencies. Globally, there are 691 reserves in 124 countries that form a World Network of Biosphere Reserves, including the 18 sites distributed across Canada [42].

Successful biosphere reserve nominations must meet the goals of the MAB Programme to provide key functions of biodiversity and cultural conservation, sustainable development, research, and education [43]. Further, biosphere reserves must be managed under an established system of regional governance capable of creating and sustaining on-going programs to deliver these functions. Established biosphere reserves are now evaluated every 10 years to measure their progress toward the MAB goals, expressed within specific Action Plan objectives intended to address topical issues (e.g., climate change), or to ensure balance among the biosphere reserve functions. Past Action Plans have focused on initiatives resulting from United Nations Conferences on Environment and Development (UNCED) meetings, including the 1992 Rio de Janeiro meeting that resulted in the Convention on Biodiversity, UN Framework Convention on Climate Change, and 'Agenda 21' [43]. They have also emphasized improved functional elements of biosphere reserves, informed by global assessments of the progress of biosphere reserves toward MAB goals.

Key policies guiding these evaluations include the 1995 Seville Strategy and the Statutory Framework that now guide biosphere reserve designation, management, and evaluation [44]. Critically, Article 9 of the Seville Strategy allows Member States of the UNESCO MAB Programme to withdraw biosphere reserves that do not meet the criteria of sustaining both the three biosphere reserve zones and a functional governance system. The 2008 Madrid Action Plan added additional, specific targets relative to climate change, the increasing loss of biological and cultural diversity and urbanisation, and the Millennium Development Goals (2000). The current MAB Strategy (2015–25) and Lima Action Plan (2016–25) build on these objectives and emphasize the need for biosphere reserve to focus on five strategic areas: (1) biosphere reserves as sites demonstrating effectively functioning models of sustainable development, (2) collaboration and networking, (3) partnerships and sustainable funding, (4) communication, information and data-sharing, and (5) governance.

Functional biosphere reserves rely on effective collaboration and measurable progress toward sustainable development goals. The current policy objectives address complex, 'wicked' problems that require pooled knowledge and expertise, as well as cooperative management strategies. biosphere reserves are implicitly founded on inter-disciplinary and trans-disciplinary approaches that such sustainability problems demand, yet their effectiveness in promoting this aspect of sustainability science is little understood [44]. The MAB Strategy (2012–25) now emphasizes sustainability science, and its unique, integrated problem-solving approach, drawing on a full range of scientific, local, traditional and Indigenous knowledge as a key means of achieving sustainable development through biosphere reserves. Further, the Strategy emphasizes the roles of coordinators, managers and scientists associated with biosphere reserves in operationalizing and promoting such approaches within their sphere of influence [44].

The Beaver Hills Biosphere (BHB) provided a relevant location for a case study exploring knowledge mobilization in the context of sustainable development. The 1600 km<sup>2</sup> Beaver Hills Moraine is a distinct ecological area, with rolling hills, abundant wetlands and forests, located immediately adjacent to the Edmonton Capital Region, one of the fastest growing metropolitan areas in Canada. It has over a century of conservation history, resulting in several federal and provincial protected areas embedded in a mixed agricultural and rural residential landscape, and a strong community, government and institutional interest in protecting this unique area from urban expansion [45,46].

The Beaver Hills Biosphere was designated in 2016, 12 years after the organization of its regional management board (the Beaver Hills Initiative, BHI). The board comprises representatives of federal, provincial and municipal government agencies, academic institutions, environmental non-governmental organizations industry, each with land management interests in the Beaver Hills moraine. The success of the BHB lies in its governance. The municipalities and park agencies retain independent jurisdiction over their respective lands, and participation by all partners in the group is voluntary. The BHB (and the BHI before it) offers the potential for shared resources, collaborative research and joint management programs where relevant to the respective agencies, but the BHB cannot require participation by any of its members. Critically, it must also involve local and Indigenous interests in management of the biosphere to meet designation requirements, but must recruit such involvement. Although the moraine was an important place for Indigenous peoples historically, reserves created in the late 1800s and settlement by Europeans, severely disrupted those ties. Restoring a relationship with local Indigenous communities has been a key challenge for the BHB, as well as addressing urban development, climate change and other sustainability concerns. With its first 10-year evaluation coming in 2024, it was timely to evaluate the progress of the BHB toward the Lima Action Plan (2016–2025) and in particular, its effectiveness in mobilizing the collective knowledge and expertise held by its members towards these sustainability goals. Since knowledge mobilization in the BHB relies on the willing participation of individual participants and their home organizations, barriers become even more evident.

#### **2. Materials and Methods**

Research design and project methods were guided by knowledge mobilization research questions posed in biological, ecological and conservation-related refereed literature, e.g., [5,6,24,33]. Proposed principles that can and should shape knowledge mobilization processes [47,48] also informed study design. These included Nguyen et al.'s [4] Knowledge–Action Framework and Bennett et al.'s [21] Framework for Collaborative and Integrated Conservation Science and Practice. We also recognized high levels of interconnectedness among all participants in the effort to translate knowledge into practice [49].

Recognizing the interconnectedness and complexity of the case study site, we approached this research through qualitative methods, as they are ideal to explore topics where little is known, make sense of complex situations, gain new insights about phenomena, construct themes in order to explain phenomena, and ultimately foster a deep understanding of the phenomena [50]. As researchers, we employed a pragmatic research paradigm to this study. Pragmatism, while relatively new to conservation literature, is a philosophy based on common sense, that simultaneously is dedicated to the transformation of culture, and to the resolution of the conflicts that divide philosophers and researchers alike [51]. Within this philosophical worldview we believe that in the single reality of the world with multiple perspectives and experiences of that reality, knowledge is therefore constructed and based on that reality [52].

Pragmatism reminds us that research questions are not inherently "important," and methods are not automatically "appropriate" [53]. Instead, it is we as researchers who make the choices about what is important and what is appropriate. Hence, our research goal of understanding how the BHB used knowledge to create a biosphere reserve, and continues to mobilize knowledge for effective conservation and land management practices through voluntary collaboration lends itself to a qualitative case study approach.

This study followed a case study approach [54] to further examine biosphere reserve actors' views regarding the use and access to biosphere reserve-relevant knowledge. Case studies are an effective method when research is exploratory, explanatory, and/or descriptive [54]; as such, this case study was an effective method for understanding and exploring the experiences of the various actors within the BHB and knowledge mobilization. This particular case study is a part of a broader research project partnership, focusing on knowledge mobilization in parks and protected areas. The research partnership includes park and conservation agencies and universities from across Canada. The BHB was chosen as it is uniquely positioned for such an assessment, given the objectives of knowledge sharing within a biosphere reserve to inform sustainable development, and the need of the various actors and partner agencies to exchange social, natural and cultural knowledge in order to achieve the biosphere reserve goals. Biosphere reserve actors will continue to require a knowledge-based approach to achieve their own goals, as well as to advance the biosphere reserve objectives, but must do this through voluntary, rather than mandated arrangements for sharing and co-production of knowledge.

We reviewed grey and peer-reviewed publications about research and decision-making in the BHB. Next, we developed a set of interview questions focused on respondents' experiences with different

forms of knowledge (social science knowledge, natural science knowledge, Indigenous knowledge, traditional ecological knowledge and other forms of local knowledge) and how agencies are able to (or not able to) access knowledge when making management decisions (see Appendix A for complete list of questions). In addition, we focused on how the BHB in particular used available forms of knowledge (e.g., natural, social, local and Indigenous) to create a biosphere reserve supported by the knowledge mobilization efforts of its partners and how being a biosphere reserve allows for the ongoing engagement in knowledge mobilization amongst partners.

#### *2.1. Sampling*

This study followed purposeful sampling as described by Creswell and Poth [55] in which the researchers select individuals and sites as they can purposefully inform understanding of the research problem and central phenomenon of the study. Within purposeful sampling, Creswell and Poth describe various types of strategies; this study followed maximum variation so as to document diverse variations of individuals and partners within the BHB. We attempted to interview leaders and influential members of partner agencies and organizations within the BHB who were familiar with the designation process and subsequent activities of the BHB, recognizing that there are no set criteria for sample size within qualitative research. Our goal was to understand the case in rich detail, and with continuity across designation through operation phases of the BHB, and have representation from the various organizations. Criteria for the sample included all BHB partner organizations who have had or currently have influence over and expertise in land management within the BHB, and were familiar with the designation process and transition into the BHB.

The BHB Board includes representatives from local municipalities (Beaver County, Lamont County, Strathcona County, Leduc County), federal park staff working at Elk Island National Park, provincial park staff employed by Alberta Environment and Parks, researchers based at the University of Alberta, and NGO representatives from Alberta Fish and Game Association, Alberta Lake Management Society, Beaver Hills Dark Sky Preserve, Canadian Parks and Wilderness Society, Ducks Unlimited Canada, Edmonton and Area Land Trust, Friends of Elk Island Society, Land Stewardship Centre of Canada, Miistakis Institute, Nature Alberta, Nature Conservancy of Canada, North Saskatchewan Watershed Alliance, and the Royal Astronomical Society of Canada. Not all current representatives to the BHB Board have been involved over sufficient time to meet criteria for study participation. Indigenous groups and governments are not currently on the Board, but have worked with the BHI toward biosphere designation. They, and local landowner associations, were invited to participate but representatives were not available for engagement.

We invited 21 candidates to participate in the study. Fourteen participants agreed to participate; others declined for logistical and timing reasons. From January to September 2019, we conducted seven focus group discussions (five in person at the University of Alberta and Miquelon Lake Provincial Park and two by phone). Group size in the discussions ranged from one to four individuals. Focus group arrangements were based on location and availability of participants, and in some cases, were based on agency representation (i.e., municipalities in one focus group, provincial agencies in another). The two one-on-one interviews were conducted with academics who have been involved with the BHB for over 15 years and provided in-depth expertise to the UNESCO Biosphere application as well as many future land management documents and policies. The one-on-one format allowed for transparency and anonymity. The discussions ranged in length from 61 to 126 minutes.

#### *2.2. Analysis*

Guided by Braun and Clarke [56], this study followed a thematic analysis approach. Thematic analysis is a method for identifying, analyzing, and reporting patterns (themes) within data. It minimally organizes and describes the data set in rich detail. However, it goes further than this and interprets various aspects of the research topic [57]. This process follows an inductive approach to coding and development of themes, meaning that the themes identified are strongly linked to the data

themselves [58]. This approach involved reducing the empirical material into categories guided by the participants' narratives without losing sight of the research aims, a process which allowed for the identification of emergent themes [59]. Thematic analysis follows a six-step approach as described by Braun and Clarke, the process followed by the research team is outlined in Figure 1 [56]. Phase one begins with familiarizing yourself with the data; in this phase, all audio recording of focus groups and interviews were transcribed, and each author read and re-read the transcripts. Phase two involved the authors generating initial codes using NVivo 12; the ideas captured in the focus group discussions were coded in an iterative process. During the third phase the research team began discussing and searching for themes by re-focusing the analysis at the broader level of themes, rather than codes. This involved sorting the different codes into potential themes and collating all the relevant coded data extracts within the identified themes. Phase four allowed for the authors to review themes, remove, and combine as necessary, and reflect on the inductive process by considering why the data were within the theme. Phase five allowed the research team to define and name themes, while keeping the perspective that themes do not have to be what is talked about the most, but rather should be a reflection of what is important and interesting in relation to the research questions and the data themselves. Phase six of the thematic analysis process focused on crafting this manuscript and selecting quotes to support the themes. After triangulating our respective individual interpretations from this process, further joint discussion facilitated the development of the interpretations that follow.

**Figure 1.** Phases of data analysis.

#### **3. Results**

In this section, we present how knowledge was described, understood, and used in the creation of the Beaver Hills Biosphere (BHB) and the ongoing partnerships within the BHB. Overwhelmingly participants acknowledged the contribution of scientific studies to planning and management activities in the BHB, whilst also recognizing the plurality and tensions within the various conservation agencies and the field more broadly when it comes to the creation, application, curation, and storage of knowledge.

#### *3.1. All Knowledge Is Not Equally Valued or Understood*

While many, if not all conservation agencies, including those who represent the BHB, noted the use of evidence-based decision-making practices, our findings reveal that evidence utilization is subject to availability, accessibility, and preference in most instances. Rather than utilize the most appropriate, holistic or robust knowledge, partners in the BHB still appear to turn to knowledge that they are most familiar with and avoid or undervalue other forms of knowledge. For example: *"Both with the BHI and with environmental planning in Strathcona [County] we don't really focus on social science; we rely more on natural science. Like if we are talking about the interactions with people and the environment there is no study that we are basing it o*ff *of, to me it's just common sense" (Municipality #1).*

One respondent described the interplay between land use planners and ecologists in the creation of the BHB's Land Management Framework, a foundational document to the BHB's designation. During development of the framework, the value of social science compared to natural science was questioned: *"the recognition of the value of [social science] in the land management framework, which was very*

*much seen as being a tool to facilitate more informed decision making by the five counties is very strongly by physically base. And the marine report, which is very comprehensive in terms of the biophysical and I use that term in the broader sense of the term, and what is covered in the socio economic [social sciences] is dare I say pretty rudimentary. a lot of my experience has been in the land use planning side of things ..." (Academic 1).* The value of social science is downplayed as "common sense" rather than considered a scientific discipline with training, expertise, and merit in management scenarios.

Even when social science is conducted within the BHB, the application of findings and the ability to effectively mobilize social science knowledge is not realized; for example, "*Now there were people like you who have done studies dealing with some of the [human] behavioural elements and stu*ff *like that. But it hasn't been incorporated at this point in time in terms of major decision making and the future the biosphere reserve" (Academic #2).*

The idea that knowledge is supported by science or evidence is not untrue; it appears, however, that science typically refers to natural science. The use of social science is largely underutilized, misunderstood, and seen as costly or time consuming within the BHB. Many actors within the BHB struggle to identify what social science is, identifying visitor satisfaction surveys or public consultation as examples of social science, but unable to elaborate. For example: "*I think a lot of natural scientists look at that and go, it's pretty easy to catch a fish, measure it, release it, etc. But getting into peoples' behaviours and why they love fishing, holy moly, that's hard, I'm going to leave that alone!" (Park Agency # 4).* However, natural science appears to be highly valued, relatively easy to access, and support: *"I think natural science can definitely be worked in [to park*/*land management practices] easier. We claim we are science-based decision making so I guess it's easier, but I think natural science [is easier], I mean people expect that when they come to a park." (Park Agency #5).* Natural science is better understood and is communicated to politicians and decision-makers more often as it is considered more tangible and quantifiable: "*I'd say the physical sort of biological sciences are easier for us, most of us have a background and they're easier in some way to measure."* (NGO#3)

This bias is not just driven by individual preferences or training, but also agency traditions; focus group participants acknowledged it would take a major incident to inspire use of 'other' knowledge:


Furthermore, as Canada searches for meaningful reconciliation between colonial settlers and Indigenous peoples, the value of traditional and Indigenous knowledge is beginning to be considered in BHB management and practices. However, that same knowledge was critically missed in the BHI's first attempt to be designated a biosphere reserve: "*The first time the BHI nomination went in for designation as a biosphere reserve, it was totally silent on Indigenous use of this landscape except in a historical context" (Academic #1).* While this realization led to many months of research and extensive historical exploration to ensure accurate and authentic representation was made in the subsequent application document, it does not appear to be understood and used in the same manner as other forms of science and knowledge. In part, this may stem from a lack of understanding among decision-makers of how Indigenous knowledge is shared, compared to Western science, and a need to rebuilt trust with potential Indigenous partners. One park agency described:

*"You can spend an awful lot of time with Indigenous people in the field and get invited to sweat but you've really got nothing to show for it – there is no widgets at the end to say I produced this thing, you may reap the benefits in 5 years time and that's sometimes hard for managers and directors to say we poured \$150,000 into this, what did we get out of it? Well I went on a sweat and I went to the pow wow and we're friends now and that's hard to justify to the public, but we well know there are benefits. So 3, 4, 5 times meetings would go beyond the hours of what they had costed out. You just have to appreciate that it is di*ff*erent, and you need to understand that. It takes time and you may not have a widget within the first year or the second, but five years down the road you are getting something out of it and the appreciation of that and little things" (Park Agency 4).*

The BHB and partner agencies also recognize the challenge of integrating traditional and Indigenous knowledge into management decision making and knowledge mobilization. Canada is still grappling with the effects of colonialism on Indigenous societies and cultures. *"The Truth and Reconciliation committee is really a big challenge, Strathcona [County] doesn't have an overall policy or advisory statement and neither does the BHI at this point, although that's a target with some funding attached, so work has been done." (NGO #2).* A park agency employee summed up current practices with the following statement: *"Honestly, with Indigenous knowledge, I don't have much experience because that is usually not really accessible, I get more from historical resources and books." (Park Agency #6)* Accessing Indigenous knowledge related to the Beaver Hills is a challenge, in part due to the historical displacement of Indigenous peoples from the moraine. However, this may also indicate a lower value attributed to lay knowledge, relative to natural or social science. Focus group participants rarely spoke to other sources of Indigenous or local knowledge, such as landowners' or long-time recreational users' insights.

#### *3.2. The Potential Value of Partnerships*

Knowledge can be informed by various sources, including non-traditional sources. Partnerships allow access to these information sources. Participants reflected on how integral partnerships and "outside" sources (i.e., outside their own agency) were to accessing and generating information, highlighting the value of the BHB and the relationships developed through the creation and ongoing work as a biosphere reserve. Many BHB agencies commented on how participating in the biosphere reserve development process improved their ability to access knowledge even within their own organization:

*". . . to mobilize knowledge internally, I seek those opportunities out [when] training seasonal employees, the firearms instruction crews, [mixing] fisheries researchers with bios, getting into Cooking Lake Blackfoot and actually meeting the people there now I know if I need to mobilize knowledge from these people they're not just someone with an Outlook email address, I can actually reach out to [Joe So-and-so] or whoever and I can ask them, [I need a solution for] enforcement challenges in X, and they know who I am. It's like hey how are you doing? I'll share this information rather than here's some dude who works for the division but he is in Edmonton and 'I don't know with your esoteric questions.' So they are more likely to relate to that, so I think that in terms of mobilizing knowledge works better within an organization." (Park Agency 4)*

External agency relationships within the BHB partners are also a direct result of the biosphere reserve designation process. ". . . and then externally, meeting Parks Canada people, working with the Land Stewardship Centre, or Nature Alberta, or ECA—those personal relationships are invaluable in actually mobilizing good knowledge sometimes." (Park Agency #4). External partnerships allow for easier access to knowledge, which in theory makes it easier to mobilize, and for some partners in the BHB (mainly the smaller organizations), this seems to be a tremendous benefit, "I found the open sharing within the Biosphere in the initiative has been really nice and I know that that data report that was done in 2015 is really good for getting a general sense of data within the region, especially very locally." (NGO #4). Reading through focus group transcripts, we wonder, however, if the external partnership benefits are strong and meaningful or if they are perhaps more surface level. It appears to be mainly agency staff and politicians with experience of working with the BHB who embrace the partnerships rather than their fellow colleagues and organizations. It is for this reason we feel that partnerships have the potential to be incredibly valuable but do not appear to be fully capitalized.

#### *3.3. The Reality of Partnerships*

Partnerships and collaboration only work when all parties are engaged and participate; whilst external partnerships are the strength and purpose of forming the BHB they do not always come to fruition nor are they welcomed by all. For example: *"With the FireSmart plan, we said as the BHI we are paying for this work, do you want to be included? We thought it was like a no brainer, but we had one county who refused, we couldn't get them on board." (Municipality #1)* The information developed in this project [FireSmart Plan] provided an understanding of fire risk and prevention measures in the moraine, but it may not have been equally valued by, or immediately useful for all partners. Yet if shared with all regional land managers and owners, it could have reduced risk of wildfires increasingly prevalent with climate change. The need to show the utility of information to encourage use by partners was highlighted by another participant, who said: *"We just got a bunch of information sitting around, and we are not talking to each other, right. And then I think at some point it'd be good to have projects that utilize that information that you have somebody that goes in there and pulls information down and does some kind of meta-analysis or something uh even for some of the indicators that we had in the Beaver Hills report maybe a reason for that." (NGO #3)*

Furthermore, the struggle to create meaningful partnerships was a factor right from the beginning. As discussions commenced regarding the establishment of the biosphere reserve, control was an imposing barrier. Some agencies were worried about giving up control while others were clearly seeking to share management responsibilities and strategies. For example: *"I think a lot of the stumbling blocks and time wasted, I think there was always, particularly from the elected o*ffi*cials' side, concerns that the BHI would become a decision making body as opposed to a facilitator, providing a range of tools, and being able to implement and use those tools to the betterment of the broader interest. So that was one of the biggest problems um I think uh depending on the people around the table the e*ff*ectiveness of them and the agency or interest they represented depended very much on those people." (Academic #2).*

Regional partners did not want another decision-making body, telling them what to do, and feared the BHI and later the BHB would assume that role, adding another layer of bureaucracy to the region, and reducing the autonomy of smaller municipalities and organizations. This is well represented in the narrative below which details a small municipality's reticence to become a formal partner in the biosphere reserve: *"I remember going to Camrose Council and a counselor that was pretty resistant to the whole BHI idea. Initially, someone had said the words biosphere reserve and it triggered a whole negative response and backlash really. He spent a whole council meeting in that part of the BHI presentation trying to barter [his region out of the project]." (Academic #1)*

Knowledge mobilization to advance conservation, sustainability and social benefits is retarded when not all regional partners are willing to engage in the process. The BHB and its predecessor, the BHI, struggle, like all biosphere reserves, to cultivate and secure partner engagement on a long-term basis.

#### *3.4. Knowledge Mobilization and Decision Making Is Layered and Complex*

Participants described a complex and dynamic system of knowledge creation and use. Many decisions that are made for parks and conservation management were described as reactionary or based on previous experiences, therefore creating layers to the use of various forms of knowledge. Even when the BHB consciously plans to use knowledge to inform their planning and facilitation efforts there are a host of factors that affect their ability to do so. These include such things as time, finances, and training required to "do" science, fears of what research will find and how to apply and communicate those findings, various government and bureaucratic policies, and challenges associated with collaborations and partnerships.

Time is one of the most frequent barriers; time to lobby organizations and governments to invest in a knowledge creation project, time to circulate new knowledge to co-workers and superiors, time to engage the public in meaningful outreach were frequently cited time scarcity examples provided by study participants. Participants felt pressure to react to problems or management decisions rather than prepare and conduct future planning and relevant research:

*"Yeah, because you know you are dealing with the day-to-day, which is the problem you do some research, but you don't always have the time to get the data sorted, so you need to find some students or something and look around at di*ff*erent sources. It's the name of the game you see the problem, try to put out the fire and then try to put the research knowledge out there so you have it for the future and a better understanding of the problems and issues. You are reacting big time." (Park Agency #6).*

Efforts to promote new ideas within regional organizations, which takes time but also influence and ability to push information "up-" and "down-stream" in an organization is reflected in this comment: *"The real di*ffi*culty I think, and this applies not just to the government only, but also to NGOs and so forth, is how do you get that information back up the line to make the people who basically decide policy and allocate resources that is the important issue." (Academic #2)*

Biospheres are areas where people live and work close to and within a natural landscape, which poses unique questions and management strategies that require pooled knowledge and expertise. However, fear appears to be holding the BHB back from realizing some of the potentials of their partnerships and pooled expertise. While some are afraid of admitting a mistake and thus not allowing others and themselves to learn from that mistake, others are afraid of not having the expertise required to engage in research. Instead of relying on partners within the BHB (i.e., academic or NGO institutions with specific research skills) they simply avoid certain opportunities: *"so it's that kind of thing about improving business and admitting we made a mistake and to learn from it but there's this, whoa we can't admit fault, error, we can't talk to people." (Park Agency #1).* A second quotation supports this issue:

*"So I think having a go back to our comfort level of you know if we see X species that we know it's there that is something we can be sure about whereas if you have to disseminate that information socially for the social sciences in a way that is e*ff*ective and also representative I think it's something that I struggle with. How do we know that we're talking to the right people or have a good representation of the data from the area and it's not just the opinion of one person that may or may not be accurate." (NGO #5)*

A biosphere reserve also poses a unique challenge in regards to knowledge creation, as they often encompass peri-urban areas and developed lived-in landscapes. This urbanization and development are accompanied by layers of government, and biosphere reserves must continually adapt to municipal, provincial and federal election cycles and competing political agendas. This timing creates additional pressure for BHB agencies and partners to react, and hinders their ability to conduct in-depth or longitudinal research projects: *"Yeah it completely forces us into short term projects." (Park Agency #5). "Council only has four years and they need to make their mark in that short amount of time. Research, we know goes year and years and that's the trick with municipal government and decision making, you may have a decision for four years." (Municipality #2)*

Capacity and training appear to be lacking in certain areas; however, it is unclear why the BHB and its partnership is not being called upon in more significant ways to address the capacity gaps between one organization and another. Specifically, an interest in but lack of capacity to conduct social science research, access and understand social science findings, and engaging with local and Indigenous knowledge is articulated well in these quotations:

*"The challenge right now is to demonstrate enough capacity to the leadership that they'll trust in me that I'm taking them on a path forward right, because no disrespect to the past but the path might not have been as straight as we needed it to be. So, I think about it now as how can we [accomplish this] as a biosphere, the evaluation of e*ff*ort of the social science e*ff*ort. So, we talk about the extension of programming if I had tools and resources that could demonstrate the e*ff*ectives than that would resonate with partners even more so." (NGO #1)*

*"Probably more resources or more a better understanding amongst the rest of us that don't do it typically about how that could be utilized or how that would feedback to the work that we do. So um with the Friends [of Elk Island National Park] for instance if I could figure out what drives people to go out in the park or to get involved in citizen science or to want to learn about those kinds of things. In fact, that kind of information would be useful for us in terms of shaping our programs for our o*ff*ering so that we could engage more people." (NGO #3)*

Similar sentiments relating to capacity and training were noted for engaging with Canada's Indigenous peoples and the knowledge exchange and co-creation that would arise from that effort.

In short, the knowledge created, used, and mobilized within the BHB is a representation of the efforts of many years of dedicated and passionate individuals and agencies. However, long-entrenched traditions of how "things are done", limitations in terms of time, capacity and finances, and complexities of the landscape and actors involved (i.e., political process, relations, influence, trust and control) have shaped decision making throughout the biosphere's lifespan and may continue to do so.

#### **4. Discussion**

Study interviewees struggled to provide specific examples of knowledge used for the biosphere reserve application or ongoing landscape management collaboration efforts that were sourced outside of traditional natural science fields of study. Park visitor statistics, information gathered at public consultation campaigns, and economic impact studies were consistently and solely identified as 'social science,' when interviewees were pressed to provide non-natural science examples of knowledge that could be used for management and planning within the BHB or that had been used to support the BHB's application for biosphere reserve status. This trend corroborates findings from other studies [21,22,31] that highlight the need for more social science research and application of its findings in biodiversity and environmental management efforts. Two examples of this include Head's [60] study of the use of human dimensions research in addressing invasive species and Harris, McGee, and McFarlane's [61] examination of local municipalities' emergency preparedness for wildfire, including the use of social science. Invasive species and wildfires are two challenges that are increasingly prevalent for the peri-urban context of the BHB. Wildfire has long been of interest to the BHB and generated substantial research and management action, based entirely in natural sciences (fire history and risk prediction). Such studies do not readily translate to management action though, and as some participants noted, this information has not been embraced by partner agencies as quickly as expected. In other regions, social aspects of management such as perception of risk have been well studied, and used to communicate risk in community education and awareness programming, e.g., [62]. A broader understanding of the applications and benefits of social science would be helpful to the BHB, and other similar initiatives.

When asked about the potential of Indigenous knowledge, traditional ecological knowledge or local, land-based knowledge for achieving BHB management objectives, replies were more apologetic in tone or interviewees had no examples to share. Engagement with the diverse Indigenous peoples who have historic and cultural ties to the Beaver Hills region has been limited, and, as articulated in the Findings section, led to, in addition to lack of public outreach in general, the failure of the first application for biosphere reserve status. This lack of engagement with 'others' and alternative ways of knowing is not uncommon. Lemieux et al. [63] in a survey of 121 Canadian conservation professionals found that while traditional (including local and Indigenous) knowledge was valued to a moderate degree (i.e., 2.9 out of 4, where 1=Not valued at all and 4=Very Valuable)), it was used much less often, scoring 2.2 out of 4 on a similarly framed "Use" scale. Lemieux and colleagues also noted that Indigenous knowledge was significantly less valued by professionals who were male or had longer professional service records. Calls for Indigenous knowledge, characterized by some researchers as traditional ecological knowledge have been made for at least two decades now [15–17], however the shift to embrace this knowledge as an equally valued tool for supporting conservation and sustainability objectives has been slow. Based on findings from a study of the potential for traditional and local ecological knowledge to contribute to biodiversity conservation in the US Pacific Northwest Coast, Charnley et al. [19] suggest knowledge holders must be directly engaged as active participants in conservation efforts. However, social, economic and policy constraints must be addressed to facilitate this involvement. In Canada, the capacity of Indigenous governments and communities to collaborate is oversubscribed at present—this is a real constraint of which the BHB is mindful. The BHB also recognized the need for its network partners to increase their capacities to engage with Indigenous

actors. Efforts to promote cross-cultural awareness and communications challenges, adoption of a more holistic socio-ecological systems thinking, and identification of common goals are a few of the overarching recommendations for addressing the pluralistic and dynamic perspectives that characterize the efforts to manage large scale landscapes [64–67].

Unexpectedly, very few of the focus group participants cited examples of local knowledge being employed to advance the development of the BHB, its application package, or its current collaborative activities. Undoubtedly, within a wide-ranging landscape such as the Beaver Hills, the agencies and partners involved in the BHB collect and utilize local knowledge in their daily and annual efforts (e.g., in land use planning), but these forms of knowledge failed to surface as common sources of information amongst interviewees. In comparison, appreciation of and use of local knowledge in Lemieux et al.'s [63] survey of Canadian conservation professionals, identified patterns of valuation (3.2 out of 4) and use (2.6 out of 4) of local knowledge for the evidence-based management of Canada's protected areas; this was slightly higher than scores relating to Indigenous knowledge from the same survey. The study also documented experiential expertise of managers was more valued and frequently used by conservation practitioners. The subordinate role that lay or local knowledge plays in comparison to technical or scientific knowledge has been documented in other contexts, including van Tol Smit, de Loë, and Plumber's [68] examination of collaborative environmental governance in New Brunswick, Canada, and may explain why, even when prompted, local knowledge was rarely discussed as a source of knowledge from decision making by BHB actors during our focus groups. Hockings et al. [3] call for greater integration of science and local knowledge to strengthen biosphere reserves, suggesting they are excellent laboratories for testing integration of scientific, local and Indigenous forms of knowledge. Raymond et al.'s [6] comparison of three projects that attempted integration of local knowledge into environmental management efforts noted there is no single optimum approach for integrating local and scientific knowledge and observed the need for future efforts to be systemic, reflexive and cyclic.

Study participants noted the partnerships and network afforded by the BHB and its establishing board, the BHI, were invaluable for improving their access to knowledge. Study participants suggested knowledge was created and exchanged more often between organizations because of their involvement in the BHB. The BHB and its predecessor, the BHI, could be labelled as a boundary organization, bridging the divide between knowledge creators and keepers, and knowledge users [69]. Boundary organizations, often NGOs, have traditionally bridged the gap between science organization and knowledge users [69]. The BHB, on a monthly basis at its board and advisory committee meetings, through its newsletters and related communications tools, and via initiatives such as the biosphere reserve application process or FireSmart preparations facilitate communications and knowledge exchange [2]. However, the BHB and its predecessor the BHI, have tread a fine line, working to maintain neutrality and autonomy, and not appearing to align with one partner agency vs another. The perceived influence of one of its main funders, the largest of five municipal partners, has at times, slowed the buy-in of other neighbouring municipalities. This was exemplified in the FireSmart program and a municipality's refusal to get involved, gaining access to and exchange information that would have helped it prepare for wildfires. To be a successful boundary organization, the BHB must strive to represent all sides in efforts to facilitate the exchange of information between knowledge users and producers, maintaining its independence. As an example, finding ways to better solicit and integrate local knowledge, would help to remove perceptions of bias. Similarly, working with Indigenous partners to explore areas of potential collaboration, in ways respectful of capacity constraints, and the need to develop shared cultural understandings would help to build trust, an essential starting point.

Study participants also claimed their participation in the BHB, as board members or advisers, improved their ability to bring knowledge from other organizations into their own agencies, but also move information within their agencies more effectively. BHB leadership (i.e., board members and advisory committee members) appear to be performing knowledge brokering within their respective agencies, especially when it comes to the sharing and curation of Beaver Hills environmental

data. Knowledge brokers facilitate the exchange of knowledge among policy makers, practitioners, and knowledge creators and keepers [2]. Amongst study participants, numerous examples of sharing and generating natural systems knowledge was alluded to, however, while the importance of acquiring and applying cultural and social knowledge was acknowledged, many of the participants interviewed noted the lack of training and easy access to this knowledge.

Co-creation of knowledge that advances biosphere reserve objectives such as sustainability, biodiversity conservation, cultural heritage conservation and social benefits also needs to be adopted by the BHB and regional actors. Our understanding of co-creation of knowledge is that it entails people exchanging perceptions of a particular phenomena and collaborating to learn more about that phenomena together. The objective of these efforts is the co-creation of knowledge, which will inform action, leading to biosphere reserve-relevant goals such as social, cultural and environmental benefits [70]. A few focus group participants noted partnerships between agencies and individual staff were productive in advancing a shared understanding of a complex problem, such as ungulate management (i.e., moose (*Alces alces)* and elk (*Cervus canadensis*)) in the Beaver Hills. They also mentioned citizen science activities, whereby residents and visitors helped to collect data, particularly in the region. It was unclear if the latter project was co-creation or co-production of knowledge.

We acknowledge the terms co-creation and co-production are often used interchangeably by some environment and knowledge mobilization experts, i.e., [2,71,72]. However, we understand co-production of knowledge to be an activity that does not include all actors in the planning process (e.g., debating what data collection method to use or what research question is most salient). Despite these subtleties in definition, the intent is the same—knowledge mobilization for conservation through collaboration. The importance and efficacy of co-creation and co-production processes were documented by Nel et al. [71] in their study of a 4-year conservation planning project in South Africa. They found that knowledge co-creation stimulated dialogue and negotiation and built capacity for multi-scale implementation beyond the original project—in short, it led to conservation action. Though not explicitly carried out as a co-creation project, the effort to document and share information (primarily about biological resources) between BHB conservation and land management agencies, with an aim to enhance landscape management and the creation of the biosphere reserve, shared many of the characteristics of the study detailed by Nel et al. [71]. However, diversity of voices (i.e., the public at large, Indigenous communities) and subject matter (e.g., social, cultural, economic) were less richly debated and documented during the BHI's efforts to obtain biosphere reserve status for the region. The effort appears to have been more focused on finding common cause, and support to drive the biosphere reserve forward toward designation. Acknowledging differences then may have defeated the main goal of designation.

Study participants unanimously agreed the BHB, and its predecessor the BHI were effective catalysts and facilitators of knowledge mobilization in the Beaver Hills region. However, knowledge mobilization collaborations were not always easily formed, needed time to develop, and key organizations were not consistently involved due to political and economic forces or the pull and push of power personalities. As a result, knowledge mobilization efforts have been stymied at times. As noted earlier, focus group participants noted that some potential partners were difficult to bring to the collaboration because of a fear of losing control. They did not want to support a biosphere reserve that could, in their minds, add another decision-making organization to the region with whom they would have to negotiate. Over time, with the right mix of personalities, the patient building of trust, and the recognition of common goals and values were used to reinforce nascent relationships and the forging of new partnerships. The development of strong personal relationships has been observed as an essential ingredient in successful partnerships [73]. Trust emerges from these personal relationships as does social capital. In her study of the factors that lead to the success of the BHI, Patriquin [45] observed these phenomena were essential ingredients to its success. She also observed that trust was built more often between people than agencies, which corroborates our speculation that the bonds that

bind the BHB and facilitate its success as a knowledge mobilization organization, are driven more by individuals than agencies.

Stronger personal relationships bring higher levels of social capital, which can be utilized for more effective problem-solving and result in an expectation of reciprocity, resulting in long-term obligations between people [74]. Brown [75] suggests this can help bridge the gaps created by different levels of power and knowledge [73]. Patriquin [45] observed in her study of the BHI that trust and social capital were essential in advancing new knowledge and evidence-based management initiatives. These included data sharing, funding raising, and effort to seek biosphere reserve allocation. Shared cultural understandings, specifically a long-term history of conservation value of the moraine, also played a role. The value of the natural environment was a rallying factor for the nomination, more so than its cultural history, a factor that may contribute to the challenges in engaging local and Indigenous understandings in the BHB's management initiatives.

Gavin et al. [64] note that conservation is often called a crisis discipline, as much of its research output is focused on declining species and landscapes, and ineffectual debates about the best path forward to address these declines. Crisis is often used as a springboard inspire action, but actors are not certain if it is the right action at the right time. This sentiment was articulated by many of the BHB focus group participants who lamented that much of their work was reactive, lacking long term resourcing or leadership support. Many of their projects were short term due to political electoral cycles and related ability to access funding and permissions to engage in data collection or evidence-based policy and management recommendations. Efforts to engage in long-term knowledge creation and curation is perceived as a central challenge to the BHB and similar collaborative efforts. Straka et al.'s [66] study of muskrat populations in Canada's Peace-Athabasca Delta, illustrates the efficacy of long-term ecological monitoring that includes partners such as Indigenous communities.

To facilitate these collaborations, constraints and deficiencies such as time and financial resources, as well as the capacity of individuals (i.e., conflict resolution, cultural awareness and appreciation of diverse world views and disciplinary approaches) and organizations need to be addressed. The environmental management knowledge mobilization literature provides insights on how to address some of these challenges (see [37,47,64,66] for examples).

#### **5. Conclusions**

#### *5.1. Study Limitations*

The story of Indigenous knowledge mobilization as it relates to the formation of the BHB and its ongoing administration, governance, and collaborative activities is not fully understood from the interviews conducted for this study, as Indigenous representatives did not participate in the focus groups. However, focus group participants who work closely with different Indigenous communities who have historic and cultural ties with the Beaver Hills, did reflect on some of the challenges and opportunities relating to Indigenous knowledge mobilization. We also did not ask interviewees about their use and valuation of professional knowledge or the experiential knowledge accumulated and employed by managers [3,8,76]. Probing for information about this type of knowledge from practitioner participants may have contributed a more fulsome and realistic understanding of management and planning decision making in the BHB, and should be included as a focus in related studies.

Our sample size could be critiqued as being small, given the scale of the Beaver Hills region, and number of BHB partners and organization staff involved. However, our desire to assess knowledge mobilization over the timeframe leading to designation of the BHB, from the perspective of its various partner organizations, constrained selection of potential participants. Most current BHB leadership (i.e., board and advisory committee members who work for government, academic, and NGOs) were interviewed, as well as a number of previous participants who also served with the BHI. Finally, we suspect the longitudinal focus of our study made it difficult for participants to name and describe

their perceptions of knowledge and knowledge use over such a long-time frame; the study could have benefited from a narrowed temporal focus.

#### *5.2. Future Research*

In addition to social science, the contributions of humanities and the arts research traditions to advancing the effective management of protected areas and landscapes such as biosphere reserves should be explored. These disciplines can also be used to critique and suggest alternative ways forward to advancing conservation and sustainability [77]. The arts and humanities articulate and inspire diverse ways of knowing in unique and challenging ways, often helping regional actors reflect on relationships with nature and each other. In the near future, examining the efficacy of the application of the arts in the BHB, in knowledge translation and negotiation may prove to be a fruitful avenue for the BHB to engage new constituencies with. As an example, profiles of the current and past residents of the moraine, in a manner similar to that used to document its natural heritage, could help build connections with local and Indigenous communities, and engagement with the BHB.

To engage in knowledge mobilization relating to Indigenous knowledge, deeper relationships are needed with individual Indigenous persons, groups, and governments. Relationship building will develop trust and advance reconciliation efforts, which are ongoing throughout Canada. Understanding of epistemological perspectives and ethical protocols will be needed to pursue joint research initiatives, but firstly, a deeper understanding of the colonial history that has influenced Indigenous connections to this landscape is needed to facilitate reconciliation and then encourage partnerships. This process will need to include skills and knowledge development of BHB leadership and staff within the biosphere reserve, but also key partners of the reserve. This is already occurring at protected areas located in the BHB such as Elk Island National Park, Cooking Lake Blackfoot Provincial Recreation Area, and Strathcona Wilderness Area. These parks are co-creating programs and policies with Indigenous communities. Research activities must involve "more collaborative and empowering forms of participation, and the use of Indigenous epistemologies and methods" [78,79]. This effort will have to be facilitated by the increased capacity of Indigenous communities to co-create and co-produce knowledge (e.g., financial and technical assistance, Indigenous controlled research infrastructure) and respectful dialogue to gauge interest in such activities. Traditional institutions (e.g., universities and their funders) must also recognize the complexities of ethics and financing that are needed to develop research relationships, co-production of knowledge, and secure knowledge asset management [67,79].

Our focus group interviews did not allow us to delve deeply into past and potential BHB co-creation and co-production of knowledge activities. Noting Cvitanovic et al.'s [2], Onaindia et al.'s [70] and other's [78,80] identification of the potential for these approaches to engage regional actors, build relationships and produce knowledge that is more supportive of biosphere reserve goals, we recommend a more expanded inquiry into how knowledge co-creation and co-production occurs in complex lived-in landscapes such as the Beaver Hills. Follow up studies of citizen science, public history curation, and wildlife preparedness planning are topics the BHB is pursuing that may provide further lessons that will enhance knowledge mobilization efficacy and efficiencies.

#### *5.3. Concluding Thoughts*

Returning to our original objectives, we asked how park, conservation, and other land management agencies associated with the BHB are able to access knowledge when making management decisions. In short, access depends on the type of knowledge, level of collaboration, and potential for application. In addition, we asked how the BHB allows for the ongoing use of knowledge mobilization amongst partners. Similarly, effective knowledge mobilization requires patience, long-term collaboration, equality among partners (perception and reality), and an appreciation of how complex knowledge really is.

As the BHB moves into its first decade of operating as a biosphere reserve, building on an additional decade of foundation building by the BHI, the organization and partnership must be mindful of several challenges. This is particularly salient for addressing calls by international experts who suggest biosphere reserve success will be contingent upon efforts to "engage with and support diverse knowledge holders and knowledge systems" [81]. First, the diversity of knowledge sources is important, namely a broader incorporation of social science, humanities, and arts generated disciplinary outputs are essential to advancing sustainability and related biosphere reserve goals. Equally important in achieving these goals will be Indigenous engagement and knowledge exchange, as well as partnerships and information sharing with local communities, landowners, and traditional users. The BHB is taking steps toward this through applied research projects in partnership with local universities. One example of this is a humanities-informed project in which historians are interviewing local residents and collecting archival materials for a public history project [82] to deepen and empower public connection with the BH's past. Additional capacity development within the BHB, with respect to Indigenous history and culture will be necessary to ensure respectful, and equitable collaboration.

Second, as the BHB formalizes its governance, stabilizes its revenues, expands staffing, and establishes strategic priorities, it must work hard to maintain a commitment to being an "open system —philosophically and operationally" [83] ensuring access to diverse perspectives, skills, and resources of individuals and organizations. Through interviews with leaders associated with the Yellowstone to Yukon (Y2Y) initiative, Mattson et al. [83] noted that as large-scale conservation organizations mature, consolidation of power around a long-standing formula reduced the effectiveness of Y2Y. As a biosphere reserve, and based on the BHI's previous successes of partnership building, this openness and dialogue must be maintained (this has been the case with most conservation agencies and municipalities) and expanded to other groups such as the public at large and specific actors (e.g., Indigenous governments and individuals, landowners, recreation users, and industry). These efforts will build trust and exchange of ideas, and relatedly for this article, the mobilization of knowledge that can be used to advance the broad array of park management objectives including biodiversity and cultural heritage conservation, and social benefits. To foster successful governance of the BHB and biosphere reserves like it, Vasser [84] recommends the pace of governance and management must consider "spatial and temporal scales of ecological processes within a socio-ecological system" (p. 309) and in particular consider different cultures' approaches to time, process and procedures. He cites Canada's Indigenous Circle of Experts (ICE) process to generate recommendations to achieve Canada's commitment to its Aichi Target 1 biodiversity protection goals, as one example [85].

Third, partners and especially leadership within the BHB must work hard to be conscious of the inherent economic and discursive power that coalitions within the Beaver Hills wield in the prioritization of biosphere reserve activities, based on narratives that are exchanged and promoted. These narratives are rooted both in local experience and knowledge as well as scientific data and the professional 'know-how' and influence of politicians and practitioners. One of the most contentious challenges of the region, the management of beaver populations, especially during years with high levels of precipitation, shares many parallels with observations made by Robbins [86] in his review of ecological knowledge relating to wildlife management and ranching in Northern Yellowstone and Maderson and Wynn-Jones' [87] examination of beekeepers' knowledge and participation in pollinator conservation and tensions with agricultural production. In short, efforts to listen to silent and silenced constituencies need to be a long-term commitment of the BHB as it moves towards its biosphere reserve objectives.

Finally, we would like to acknowledge that Canada has a history of land management that devalues community integration and consultation and rather imposes parks based on ecological and conservation science [88–90]. As such, in this paper, we assert that social science research, characterized by distinct disciplinary theories and methods but focused on advancing social knowledge, has not received the same recognition as natural science within North America and Western conservation contexts [21]. Globally, there may be different understandings of and valuations of social science as a practice; within the BHB, understandings of what social science is and what it may contribute to conservation management is still very much at an early stage of development. We believe that all forms of knowledge are essential to effective conservation and land management and therefore are advocating for interdisciplinary approaches in park and land management.

**Author Contributions:** Conceptualization, C.-J.B., E.A.H., G.T.H. and D.P.; Methodology, C.-J.B., E.A.H. and G.T.H.; Validation, C.-J.B.; Formal Analysis, C.-J.B.; Investigation, G.T.H., E.A.H., C.-J.B. and D.P.; Resources, E.A.H. and C.-J.B.; Data Curation, C.-J.B.; Writing—Original Draft Preparation, C.-J.B., E.A.H., G.T.H., and D.P.; Writing—Review and Editing, C.-J.B., E.A.H., G.T.H., and D.P.; Supervision, E.A.H.; Project Administration, E.A.H.; Funding Acquisition, E.A.H. All authors have read and agreed to the published version of the manuscript.

**Funding:** The authors would like to thank all funding partners, specifically Canada's Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council, Alberta Environment and Parks Innovation Fund, and The University of Alberta.

**Acknowledgments:** The authors would like to thank all BHB partner organizations and research assistant Carolyn Cook.

**Conflicts of Interest:** The authors declare no conflict of interest.

#### **Appendix A**

#### **Research Interview Questions**

#### **Opening Section (Participant Background)**


#### **Knowledge Mobilization Section**

#### *Case-specific Management Decision-making Processes:*

	- a. For each decision, would you please describe how the decision was made (open ended start to discussion)?
	- b. Now would you outline what kinds of information were used to assist in making each decision (probe for possible types of information, e.g., colleagues, government documents)?
	- a. Can you describe any difficulties or barriers in accessing or applying appropriate social science information in making decisions such as this, at this case study location? (Relate this back to theoretical context, and known barriers/enabling factors.)
	- a. Can you describe any difficulties or barriers in accessing appropriate traditional ecological knowledge, Indigenous knowledge or other forms of local knowledge in making decisions? Any enabling conditions that helped access scientific information useful for decision-making? (Relate this back to theoretical context, and known barriers/enabling factors.)

#### *General Process of Knowledge Application:*

	- a. Would you agree with this assessment, and why or why not?
	- b. What would it take for either social science or Indigenous knowledge to be more fully integrated into Beaver Hills Biosphere planning and management?

#### **References**


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© 2020 by the authors. Licensee MDPI, Basel, Switzerland. This article is an open access article distributed under the terms and conditions of the Creative Commons Attribution (CC BY) license (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/).

## *Article* **Mobilizing Indigenous Knowledge through the Caribou Hunter Success Working Group**

#### **Hannah Atkinson**

Western Arctic National Parklands, P.O. Box 1029, Kotzebue, AK 99752, USA; hannah\_atkinson@nps.gov; Tel.: +1-907-442-8342

Received: 30 September 2020; Accepted: 28 October 2020; Published: 31 October 2020

**Abstract:** The caribou stewardship practices of the Iñupiat have persisted through cycles of abundance and decline for the Western Arctic Caribou Herd (WACH). This research seeks to address the challenges and opportunities faced when mobilizing Indigenous Knowledge in the National Park Service (NPS) management of the herd. Motivated by Indigenous stewardship concerns, NPS staff facilitate and participate in an informal working group focused on caribou hunter success. Using Indigenous Knowledge methods, this study examined the outcomes of the working group and the use of "rules of thumb" to identify and share stewardship practices. In the two cases, the Caribou Hunter Success Working Group created space for subsistence hunters to develop educational materials based on Indigenous Knowledge to address specific hunter success issues. Subsistence users participate in the federal subsistence programs and related subsistence forums, and it is the work of the NPS to mobilize the knowledge they contribute to improve subsistence management for both the users and the resource. There are two additional benefits for the NPS: (1) a better understanding of the use of the resource, and (2) when regulations are informed by Indigenous Knowledge, there is a greater likelihood of adherence. The mobilization of Indigenous Knowledge leads to more effective management.

**Keywords:** Indigenous Knowledge; traditional knowledge; traditional ecological knowledge; subsistence, caribou; Iñupiat, Alaska; national parks; co-management

#### **1. Introduction**

The Iñupiat of northwest Alaska have an intimate relationship with caribou going back millennia, as both a primary food and material resource, and as a feature of their collective identity. The 1980 Alaska National Interest Lands Conservation Act (ANILCA) established National Parklands encompassing much of the range of the Western Arctic Caribou Herd (WACH). Kobuk Valley National Park (NP) and Cape Krusenstern National Monument (NM) are specifically directed at protecting the viability of subsistence resources and subsistence uses.

In carrying out ANILCA National Park Service (NPS), managers work alongside neighboring state and federal land management agencies, and rural subsistence users who depend on the parks. NPS managers for Kobuk Valley NP and Cape Krusenstern NM work in Kotzebue, located in northwest Alaska. The majority of subsistence users are of Iñupiaq heritage and rely on Indigenous Knowledge (IK) to steward resources for the next generation [1,2]. IK is the "cumulative body of knowledge, practice, and belief, evolving by adaptive processes and handed down through generations by cultural transmission, about the relationship of living beings (including humans) with one another and with their environment" [3] (p. 1252). The use of the term Indigenous Knowledge recognizes that the Iñupiat have generations of knowledge related to the WACH, as well as adaptive relationship to the resource. The knowledge used to harvest and manage is evolving.

To integrate IK into the ANILCA framework of subsistence management, the Caribou Hunter Success Working Group (CHSWG) has formed to address specific concerns about the stewardship of caribou. This study will explore the IK shared through the CHSWG, as well as the challenges to and opportunities for mobilizing that knowledge in NPS management.

The WACH is the largest caribou herd in Alaska. The herd migrates across northwest Alaska, with a range estimated at 157,000 square miles, the route taken varying year to year. Generally, the fall migration takes them from Alaska's North Slope southward through the Noatak, Kobuk, and Selawik river drainages, and along the coast of the Chukchi Sea. The range spans lands owned and managed by the State of Alaska, Native Corporations, and Federal Lands (Bureau of Land Management, Fish and Wildlife Service, and NPS). With virtually no roads in the region, subsistence hunters' best access to the fall season's prime bull caribou is to intercept migration by boat along waterways near their communities. Roughly 40 villages harvest from the WACH for an estimated annual harvest of 10,000–15,000 caribou. This study focuses on two of those communities in the Northwest Arctic Borough: Kiana, on the Kobuk River, and Kotzebue, located on the coast of Kotzebue Sound [4].

The size of the herd fluctuates following natural trends of abundance and decline. The past century included scarcity in the early 1900s, an increase in the 1930s–1950s, and another decline of the herd in 1975 when the population was estimated at the lowest on record, 75,000 caribou. The herd again increased until 2003, reaching a population of 490,000 caribou. Since 2003, the herd's size has been reduced by half. The recent decline has charged regulatory discussion, as subsistence users and managers have heightened concerns about sustaining the herd [4].

For the Iñupiat of northwest Alaska, caribou is a cultural keystone species [5–8]. That is, the WACH "play a unique role in shaping and characterizing the identity of the people who rely on them ... that become embedded in a people's cultural traditions and narratives, their ceremonies, dances, songs, and discourse" [9] (p. 1). Traditionally, caribou were hunted through a community-wide effort to herd the caribou into locations that would make for easy harvest. This includes but is not limited to rivers, lakes, and constructed corrals and snares [10]. The relationship to the herd was understood to be one of interdependence. The Iñupiat way of life, including seasonal settlement patterns, were determined by the caribou movements and hunter behavior could alter the migration of the herd. [5].

In the modern management context, the caribou herd is the shared interest that brings both NPS staff and Iñupiaq subsistence hunters to the same table with other land management agencies. As the NPS aims to mobilize IK in subsistence management, they are working against the NPS legacy of erasing Indigenous people and use from the land [11]. The erasure began with removal of Indigenous people from their homelands for the establishment of parks, as was the case for Yellowstone National Park, Yosemite National Park, and Grand Canyon National Park [12]. For many tribes, the disruption of traditional use of plants, fish, and wildlife accompanied removal [13].

In Alaska, ANILCA and the Alaska Native Claims Settlement Act (ANCSA) that preceded it in 1971, define almost all aspects of federal land management and federal relationships with native peoples. ANCSA was the settlement of land claims from the Alaskan natives, opening the gate for federal conservation units to be established through ANILCA. In ANCSA, legislators also promised to uphold Alaska Native subsistence land use on federal lands. In practice, ANILCA provides a subsistence priority for all rural residents, Alaska Natives among them, and establishes a framework for subsistence users to give input to federal managers on subsistence uses [14,15].

The enabling legislation for Cape Krusenstern NM and Kobuk Valley NP in ANILCA directs managers to "protect the viability of subsistence resources" as well as to work with Alaska Natives to preserve and interpret resources [16] (Title II, Sec 201). Title VIII, setting the framework for subsistence management in national parks, establishes Subsistence Resource Commissions (SRCs) [16] (Sec. 808). The commissions have a direct channel to the Secretary of the Interior and the Governor of Alaska, inform NPS management, and feed into the Federal Subsistence program. Also enabled by ANILCA, the Regional Advisory Councils (RACs) are formed of rural subsistence users and advise on subsistence management across federal lands [16] (Sec. 805). In addition to the SRCs and RACs formed through ANILCA, NPS participates in the Western Arctic Caribou Herd Working Group (WACHWG). Formed in 1997, this group evaluates herd status based on the most current herd demographics, then chooses a

management level centered on population size, growth rate trend, and harvest rate. This management level comes with regulatory recommendations, and the management plan is used to inform regulatory proposal reviews [4].

SRC and RAC meetings are typically held in Kotzebue twice a year. Subsistence users appointed to the commissions and councils who come from IK systems of knowing are motivated to volunteer by the desire to improve management through sharing their IK [15]. They become skilled at working in two vastly different management systems and asserting IK, despite several obstacles presented by the SRC program. Because the meetings are held in Kotzebue, participation from outlying communities is not common, functionally limiting participation to the appointed representatives and removing the discussion of specific resources from the context of seasonal harvest. In a study that sought to understand the relationship between the Qikiqtagru ˙ ŋmiut, Kotzebue tribal members, and the NPS, the majority of respondents spoke of "restrictions in general" as a concern; and the number of tribal members who want to know more about regulations suggests the SRCs are falling short of broad public engagement [17] (p. 30). The fact that the meeting follows a standard agenda and Roberts Rules of Order presents another barrier. These parameters can limit the conversation necessary to discuss the nuances of IK. In the end, the management integration of IK shared at these meetings is the responsibility of Park Service managers; however, vacant positions and staff turnover have made such integration difficult in the past and have caused frustration for Kotzebue tribal members [17].

These SRC limitations affect the managers' ability to understand and mobilize IK. Subsistence management is only as effective as the framework established by ANILCA allows it to be [15]. In addressing effective management, this study builds on a 2003 report completed through a Cooperative Agreement with Cape Krusenstern NM and Kobuk Valley NP management titled "The Western Arctic Caribou Herd Barriers and Bridges to Cooperative Management" [18]. In the report, co-management opportunities and levels of control were identified in different functions of management. The authors argued that co-management groups have proximate authority, meaning co-management groups are created by and bought into by the agencies, so there is a social expectation that they will be listened to [18]. Risks involved in co-management, such as conflicting understandings among managers, can be mitigated by increasing the number of actors in the co-management network, such as by the formation of a working group [19]. Mobilizing IK is identified as one of the central strategies and opportunities in the co-management of the WACH [18]. The CHSWG, created by the SRCs and facilitated by NPS staff, has the potential to mitigate some of the risks involved with co-management by engaging more participants in management and increasing the understanding of IK for both managers and subsistence users for the more effective management of the WACH.

Effective management is the ability to respond to resource decline with measures that protect subsistence use and conserve the resource [20]. The recent decline of the WACH has necessitated increased collaboration between the NPS, partner organizations, and subsistence users. In 2015 and 2016, biologists reported that hunting would soon impact the population if the decline continued. Regulatory boards and commissions responded with conservative regulation changes [21]. At the same time, disagreement within subsistence hunting communities over the traditional stewardship of the herd climaxed.

The setting of this disagreement was the Kobuk River, as subsistence hunters, following traditional patterns of use, boated upriver to harvest fall caribou where their migration crosses reliably each year [5]. One such reliable crossing, a small channel of the Kobuk River to the east of Kiana, attracts hunters from neighboring communities, including Kotzebue, the region's population center. Because the fall caribou migration has taken place considerably later in recent years, subsistence hunters' access to the prized bulls has become increasingly uncertain. Competition among subsistence hunters has increased. Issues with hunting on the Kobuk River have included overcrowding, the unsafe use of firearms, not sharing, non-traditional hunting practices, and waste [22]. For the people of Kiana, the small channel of the Kobuk River that was the focal point of disagreements over use, has been

identified by the Elders as their traditional hunting grounds. In 2015, the Kiana Elders Council addressed the hunter issues by putting out a list of guidelines based on traditions of their ancestors:


They requested compliance from all hunters using the area [22] but were presented with the challenge of communicating with hunters from the seven villages that harvest from the Kobuk River [21].

At the fall 2016 meeting of the Kobuk Valley and Cape Krusenstern SRCs, members talked at length about hunting issues on the Kobuk River. Members agreed that hunter congestion in the river was putting others in danger and turning the herd back from their crossing. In discussion, members first suggested regulatory change to address the issues. However, SRC member and Kiana Elder Larry Westlake explained the IK behind hunting on the river: "that's our traditional way of hunting ever since they start crossing, and we learned it from our Elders. It worked out for everybody, everybody got what they wanted. It's common sense, you can't get in front of a herd and chase it back and get your catch. You have to continue the migration. You can get your catch and the migration continues" [21]. The Commission dropped the regulatory proposal in favor of an educational initiative and formed the CHSWG to support the Kiana Elders Council efforts.

The CHSWG formed in order for subsistence hunters to work with managers to utilize and develop educational materials based on IK. The IK-based conflict speaks to the complexity of managing subsistence use. The issue is not just maintaining the herd population needed for harvest, it is also about equitable access to the resource, the traditional and cultural practices surrounding harvest, and preserving the way of life for future generations. This study analyzed the records from the CHSWG to determine the effectiveness of identifying IK and opportunities to mobilize the knowledge. The outcome of this model has implications for co-management. With the recent decline of the WACH, the NPS is motivated to gain a better understanding of the use of resources and to integrate formal regulations and Indigenous Knowledge, for a greater likelihood of adherence. In the analysis we will look for new IK presented through the working group and for an increase in the number of people engaged in the management system as indicators of IK being mobilized. By deepening understanding of subsistence and engaging more users in the subsistence management systems, the mobilization of IK leads to more effective management.

#### **2. Materials and Methods**

The current effort to document caribou hunting IK began with the CHSWG meetings. The CHSWG formed to address "Hunter Success" issues from an IK perspective, with a focus on public outreach. "Hunter Success" comes from the "Iñupiat Ilitqusiat", a program created by northwest Arctic leaders and Elders to define the values of the Iñupiat. Hunter Success is one of seventeen values aimed at passing on knowledge to the next generation. The definition of "Hunter Success" is getting meat for your family. It is tied to traditions and knowledge passed down from Elders [23]. When addressing the subsistence hunting issues on the Kobuk River, the Kiana Elders Council chose to frame their IK as Hunter Success [22].

At the direction of the SRCs, NPS staff facilitated the group made up of federal and state managers, along with subsistence users. Participants are self-selecting and because of the informal nature of the group, attendance varies. The contact list notified of CHSWG meetings is comprised of 24 participants. Of the 24, seven participants are Elders or hunters with IK about caribou hunting. Because these participants have or are currently serving on the SRCs, they can be described as key informants

with established relationships of information sharing. The agencies, along with the NPS, involved in the working group include: the State of Alaska Department of Fish and Game, the Alaska State Wildlife Trooper, Selawik Fish and Wildlife Refuge, NANA Regional Corporation (the ANCSA Native Corporation for northwest Alaska), The Native Village of Kotzebue (Kotzebue's tribal organization), northwest Arctic Borough, Maniilaq Association (the Native non-profit for the northwest Arctic), and Teck Alaska (a mining and development corporation). The agencies involved are also self-selecting. Participants include biologists, educators, and managers—all with interest in the management of the hunt from the WACH. Since 2017, seventeen working group meetings have been held. The meetings served as "analytical workshops". Huntington described the benefit of this approach: "a workshop that brings together scientists and the holders of TEK can allow both groups to better understand the other's perspective, and to offer fresh insights. By cooperating in the analysis of data, the two groups may also find common understanding and jointly develop priorities" [24] (p. 1271).

The CHSWG was designed to be informal by not making decisions and providing a space to discuss IK and public outreach efforts. Each meeting is held at the NPS office and through teleconference. Rather than setting a formal agenda, the facilitator moves through discussion items, and the group is consensus-driven, with hunters and Elders holding the authority on IK, the main topic of discussion. Elders and hunters often ask managers for information on state and federal regulations and the WACH status. Outcomes of the working group are reported to the RACs and the SRCs at their biannual meetings.

The primary goal of the CHSWG is to support the transmission of IK. While the subsistence hunters in the group were primarily motivated by lax adherence to traditional hunting values, they also acknowledged a lack of awareness of current hunting regulations and the health of the herd, as this information changes from year to year. To increase communication in the villages, tribes hosted interagency informational meetings in the villages prior to the fall caribou hunting season. Since 2017, fifteen meetings were hosted in seven villages [22]. The community hunter success meetings were "analytical workshops" considering localized IK; for example, the discussion in Kiana was focused on IK specific to the small channel of the Kobuk River, their traditional hunting grounds.

Community meetings were designed with several considerations for the cultural context of IK transmission. Firstly, meetings are held in the village right before the hunting season. This encourages the sharing of location-specific knowledge during the time of year when it is most relevant. The meetings are hosted in partnership with the local tribal government and are organized with local recommendations for a successful meeting. For example, a prayer is said at the beginning of the meeting if that is customary in the community. Secondly, participation in the community meetings is self-selecting. A raffle for all attendees may be offered as an incentive. Thirdly, as with the CHSWG meetings, Hunter Success community meetings are driven by consensus and Elders hold the authority on IK. Finally, agencies provide information in a question and answer style discussion. Village hunters who do not regularly meet with agency staff take the opportunity to ask questions about regulations that they do not understand.

For this study, the meeting records for subsistence meetings during the period 2016–2019 were analyzed using qualitative methods to determine if the CHSWG has created opportunities to mobilize IK. SRC and RAC meetings are recorded and transcribed. Working group meetings and community meetings are documented in a summary of discussion generated by the NPS. The records from the meetings were analyzed by the author to identify the "rules of thumb" in use for Iñupiaq caribou stewardship. The term "rules of thumb" is defined as "simple prescriptions based on a historical and cultural understanding of the environment". They are often backed up by religious belief, ritual, taboos, and social conventions [25] (p. 194). Rules of thumb can be expressed in a sentence, though the historical and cultural understanding of the environment make up a deep body of knowledge that the short form is meant to reference. In some settings, IK is transmitted in long form, for example, through an elder telling a story. Short-form rules of thumb are often engaged in co-management settings [26].

Literature on IK has identified an issue with the way that it is mobilized in management in that IK is only partially understood by managers and removed from its context [25]. IK is multifaceted, but the most commonly utilized part of IK is factual observations about the environment [27]. The CHSWG aims to share IK in a holistic sense. The success can be measured, in part, by the analysis of materials for new facets of IK identified. Mobilizing IK in the existing structure of management will only serve to remove it from its context, however, mobilizing IK can affect management if it is integrated in a system that engages Indigenous people. One measure of integration is the number of people involved in the management structure. This method acknowledges IK as dynamic and responding to social context, rather than a static data source removed from the system of Indigenous management that it is derived from [28].

#### **3. Results**

The CHSWG identified IK related to hunting issues brought up by Elders and hunters. The outcome of the CHSWG and the community meetings was the identification of IK rules of thumb. In two cases, the identification of IK happened through discussion at community meetings, semi-formal interviewing, and educational publications in the form of flyers, radio announcements, and social media campaigns. In each case, the CHSWG relied on publications that attempted to transmit IK in the form of rules of thumb. "Iñupiat Ilitqusiat Aŋunialgułik: Hunter Success for Caribou Hunting" (Figure 1) was developed by the Kiana Elders Council and "Iñupiat Ilitqusiat Guidelines on Winter Caribou Hunting" (Figure 2) was developed by the Native Village of Kotzebue with assistance from the CHSWG.

**Figure 1.** "Iñupiat Ilitqusiat Aŋunialgułik: Hunter Success for Caribou Hunting" flyer published by Kiana Elders Council first in 2015 and updated in 2017.

**Figure 2.** "Iñupiat Ilitqusiat Guidelines on Winter Caribou Hunting" flyer published by Native Village of Kotzebue in 2018.

The CHSWG resulted in further definition of the Hunter Success issues on the Kobuk River. Larry Westlake, participating in the CHSWG to follow up on his work on the Kiana Elders Council and SRC, explained his motivation for educating his community:

"It is close to 60 years since caribou crossed near Kiana. When caribou came through the narrows, hunters in Kiana would wait two days after the caribou started crossing. After the first had crossed and established the migration, the Elders say, we would have caribou all our lifetime. Now-a-days there are more hunters and less caribou, all in a six-mile area on the Kobuk River. There are too many hunters. That's why we brought Hunter Success back. They are not regulations but guidelines for a more successful hunt, for example, keep heads and horns out of the river side. Take care of the river" [22] (p. 4).

In order to address the issues with hunting on the Kobuk River, community meetings were held in the villages that hunt from the Kobuk River. The first part of the community meetings was dedicated to discussing traditional Iñupiaq values around hunting. "Iñupiat Ilitqusiat Aŋunialgułik: Hunter Success for Caribou Hunting" (Figure 1) was shared and used to start a discussion of differences and similarities between the values in neighboring communities. Then, agency staff provided information about the health of the herd and the changes in hunting regulations for the year. The information was presented in a two-way conversation with attendees; and throughout the communities, residents were consistent in questions about land ownership, jurisdiction, and enforcement [22].

Table 1 shows the number of community meetings held during the period 2017–2019 and the attendance at the meetings relative to the population of the community. The attendance of community meetings shows the increase in the number of subsistence hunters participating in the co-management of the herd. This is in contrast to the representatives from those communities that serve on the SRCs, RACs, or WACHWG. There are four representatives from Kiana that serve on either the SRCs, RACs, or WACHWG, so it can be concluded that holding a meeting in Kiana increases the number of Kiana participants in the co-management of the WACH.


**Table 1.** Table of results from the Caribou Hunter Success Working Group community meetings showing the population of the village and attendance for 2017, 2018, and 2019.

#### *3.1. Caribou Hunting on the Kobuk River*

In the case of the Kobuk River Hunter Success issues, community meetings provided space for IK rules of thumb to be further defined to address the issues identified. The community had defined the IK rules of thumb in their 2015 flyer "Iñupiat Ilitqusiat: Hunter Success for Caribou Hunting". In 2017, the Kiana Elders Council along with the CHSWG revisited their 2015 document, and edits were made to the flyer to include a recent change in enforcement of caribou registration permits (Figure 1). Following hunting regulations and Iñupiaq values were both considered a part of a successful hunt [22]. In 2018 and 2019, the Kiana Hunter Success meeting started with the rules of thumb expressed in short form, then with Elders and hunters explaining the experience of hunting informed by IK, thus rules of thumb were thereby reshaped [22].

This process included forming a committee of Kiana residents to shape the rules of thumb and to transmit the rules to their community [22]. The Kiana committee worked to put together a call to hunters to wait twenty-four hours after the first migration of the herd before hunting, and to avoid the little channel of the Kobuk River. This guidance was based on the IK shared by the Kiana Elder Larry Westlake concerning how the caribou hunt was managed by his ancestors. The twenty-four hours after migration timeline falls under protecting the lead caribou rules of thumb. The request to avoid the little channel was directly tied to positioning of the hunter rules of thumb. The Hunter Success meeting gave space for the deep IK context of these rules of thumb to be explained, and for multiple Elders to explain their experiences with it. The flyer communicated IK in short form. Some members of the Kiana committee also hope to codify the rules of thumb in state hunting regulations [22].

Before the hunting season, agency partners in the CHSWG shared the IK-based guidance created by the Kiana Committee. In the working group meetings that followed, Kiana community members reported less boats on the river, though effectiveness of their efforts was difficult to measure as the migration of the caribou did not include the crossing near Kiana in 2018. Boats were not there because the caribou were not there [22].

#### *3.2. Caribou Hunting by Snowmachine*

The next case we will discuss was brought to the CHSWG after formation and the Kobuk River case served as a model to address the issue through the identification of IK. To give some background, we will first start by saying the migration pattern of the WACH is highly variable. However, a relatively new pattern of movement brings the herd along the coast of the Chukchi Sea and across Kotzebue Sound in November, after ice has formed, to surround Kotzebue while snow is on the ground [29]. Subsistence hunters from Kotzebue and nearby areas hunt these migrating caribou from snowmachines. This method, combined with the herd's proximity to the large community of Kotzebue, provides greater access than fall hunting by boat in the rivers. As Cyrus Harris, an Iñupiaq subsistence hunter from Kotzebue, Alaska, explained during a Working Group meeting: "The migration around Kotzebue after freeze-up is, for some people, their first time seeing caribou. People likely have the tools to harvest a caribou for the first time. All you need is a snowmachine and a gun. It is an educational wake-up call" [22].

The needed education included more detailed IK rules of thumb on how and when to hunt caribou by snowmachine. The issue involved both formal regulation and the IK management system enforced by community standards [22]. Snowmachines allow hunters to position themselves and the animals, herding caribou so they are easier to harvest. Snowmachines have been utilized since the mid-1960s when they replaced dog teams as the main form of winter transportation. In general, the use of the machines for hunting developed out of traditional methods of intercept hunting [5]. On NPS and other federal lands in northwest Alaska, federal subsistence regulations set the parameters for hunters, such that: "a snowmachine may be used to position a hunter to select individual caribou for harvest provided that the animals are not shot from a moving snowmachine". Under general statewide "Subsistence Restrictions" on federal lands, hunters are prohibited from using snowmachines to "drive, herd, or molest" caribou [30] (p. 16–20).

Subsistence users maintain that the appropriate use of snowmachines to hunt and harvest can be negotiated through IK management systems. IK management systems allow hunters the most agency to apply IK to specific hunt situations [26,31]. The CHSWG, using the Kobuk River case as a model, set out to work with the Native Village of Kotzebue to identify IK rules of thumb in this case [22]. The rules of thumb identified were approved by the Tribal Council and published in a document titled "Iñupiat Ilitqusiat Guidelines on Winter Caribou Hunting" (Figure 2). However, in this case, it was determined by the CHSWG that community meetings would not be effective, given the low turn out of one community meeting held in Kotzebue (Table 1).

Agency staff from the CHSWG used semi-formal interviewing to guide the discussion of IK. Questions were informed by the rules of thumb that surfaced each time the working group discussed traditional caribou harvest, including: protection of the lead caribou, rules positioning the hunter, rules for selecting and positioning the animal, salvage practices to use all parts of an animal, knowing the land/respecting the land, sharing, hunter safety, and following regulations [22].

The resulting conversation covered knowledge passed down over generations focusing on the rules of thumb for hunter positioning and the positioning of animals. The following quote from Robert Schaeffer, an Iñupiaq hunter from Kotzebue, provides an example of a story used to transmit IK in long form.

"I remember when I first came back from school dad took us out and we needed to get a couple [of caribou], that we needed really bad, so we went over to the Noatak Flats toward the Hatchery area. It was colder than hell that day ... and anyway we got there, we saw the

herd down there, and he didn't want to chase because he was more concerned about the health of the animals, he don't want to chase in the cold because it will freeze their lungs and will affect them. So he said 'what we'll do is, I'll sit up here, and you'll go down and around them to the river. And you'll come up at them slowly, and almost come to the top side. I'll just wait here ... all we need is four.' And, sure enough, they headed to the top side. He picked out his four, got his four ... Working together is really important. I think when we went out there with our younger folks afterwards, and ran into a caribou herd, we'd plan out what we are going to do before we even take off. We don't just go out and go dashing into the herd, hoping like heck we can get something. Planning something like that is really important" [32].

In the conversation surrounding this story, the hunters discussed landscape features that help in a hunt, such as the tendency of animals to run to high ground when they are threatened and the use of deep snow to slow a fleeing animal. Elders' stories were transmitted through short-form assertions meant to be easily remembered, though they referenced a larger system of knowledge surrounding the assertions [26].

The short form that was included in the hunter flyer reads, "Use the terrain: look for high ground, hills or cover, or deep snow. Caribou will often go to high ground if they are being approached. You can make a plan or take advantage of this. Or you can try to move caribou toward deep snow, which will allow you to get closer to them" (Figure 2). The risk of sharing this information without the original conversation involves removing short-form information from a context of generational knowledge. Other methods of sharing information were suggested, such as school programs and hunter mentorships [22]. While this was discussed at the working group, it would require the expansion of the program, including funding and possibly more staff.

It is challenging to measure the success of this educational initiative. Because community meetings were not used to spread the information, we do not have attendance numbers to gauge participation. The flyer was shared at the Native Village of Kotzebue Annual Meeting as well as at the 2018 RAC meeting. In early winter 2018, after a full year of circulating the "Iñupiat Ilitqusiat Guidelines on Winter Caribou Hunting" flyer (Figure 2), parts of the caribou herd again migrated in November through the ice-covered Kotzebue Sound, bringing caribou right through town. Two young hunters killed a caribou by hitting it with their snowmachine. The Iñupiaq community was outraged at the lack of respect for nature [33]. While the information shared by the CHSWG had not prevented the incident, the working group provided a space for hunters to communicate with the Alaska Wildlife Trooper on how the case was being handled, to discuss the disconnect between the traditional ways of hunting and the youth, and to recommend educational and service-oriented sentencing when the case went to court [22].

#### **4. Discussion**

For managers of Kobuk Valley NP and Cape Krusenstern NM, mobilizing IK is the next step towards cooperative management. Subsistence hunters participating in formal subsistence management groups bring their IK perspective into NPS management, and the CHSWG has succeeded in creating opportunities to mobilize IK. In both Kiana and Kotzebue, IK rules of thumb were identified in order to address hunter success issues. In this work, there is the opportunity to make NPS management more effective through a deeper understanding of caribou harvest and by integrating IK into regulation, legitimizing NPS management [18]. We can learn about similar challenges and inform our recommendations by looking at two studies on IK mobilized in the management of the Porcupine Caribou Herd on Alaska's northern border with Canada [26,34]. Wray analyzed the Porcupine Caribou Management Board (PCMB) educational materials for rules of thumb and compared them to government regulations for caribou hunting [26]. The PCMB also worked with government officials to establish formal regulations to protect the lead caribou migrating around the Dempster Highway in Canada's Yukon and northwest territories [34]. Finally, our discussion includes limitations of the current efforts to document IK through the CHSWG and recommendations for expanding the program.

The community meetings held by the Working Group in villages prior to the hunting season are an educational effort where IK rules of thumb are identified alongside Federal and State regulation. Spaeder et al. called the educational programs "the primary strategy in which resource agencies attempt to address resource conflicts and the gulf that exists between law and customary practice" [18] (p. 88). At the 2018 Hunter Success Meeting in Kiana, community members discussed who has the power to make change in local hunting practices: the tribe, the federal government, or community members [22]. This discussion of who holds the power of change is integral in landscapes split by jurisdiction and layered with multiple management systems. The hunter's experience is shaped by the regulatory system as well as the management systems associated with the IK of the local people. Some Kiana community members called for change in the state regulations to reflect rules of thumb around the protection of the lead caribou [22].

Kiana community members, over the course of three years of Hunter Success Community meetings, were able to identify and refine IK rules of thumb to address issues in the river channel east of town. Each meeting ended in consensus, but the consensus did not extend to the community members not in attendance [22]. The study of the PCMB in Canada is helpful in the discussion of the challenges associated with reaching consensus on IK rules of thumb. Padilla and Kofinas found that "intercommunity conflict and intergenerational divide" in first nations groups created resistance to the formal regulations enforced by the Canadian government that were based on IK rules of thumb. The meaning of the "lead caribou", when defined by the Indigenous Elders, is "highly context-dependent" [34] (p. 212). The regulations to protect the lead caribou focused on closing portions of the road for weeks at a time. This method took the agency away from individual hunters to exercise IK as it fit the situation [34]. In the case of the "Iñupiat Ilitqusiat Aŋunialgułik: Hunter Success for Caribou Hunting" (Figure 1), consensus over IK rules of thumb is challenged by intercommunity conflict. The Kiana Elders Council wants to have hunters across the region comply with their values, but there is some variation in the IK shared in different traditional groups. In Noorvik, the community closest to Kiana, the IK was affirmed by a local Elder at a 2017 Hunter Success Meeting as he told stories based on his own experience of hunting on the Kobuk River. However, in Kotzebue, further from the hunting grounds where this IK was developed, hunters may be less educated in IK specific to the Kobuk River [22].

In the case of caribou hunting by snowmachine near Kotzebue, there are similar aspects of intergenerational divide and the agency granted to the hunter to apply the guidance to specific hunting situations. When rules of thumb are shared through stories, such as the hunting story shared by the Iñupiaq hunter from Kotzebue, Robert Schaeffer [32], the application of the rule of thumb to the specific hunting situation is communicated in ways hunters can learn and model. In Wray's observation of the PCMB, shorthand versions of rules that are also communicated through stories and shared experiences serve an important function. "The use of such shorthand may be the only means of ensuring compliance with particular norms without the necessity of communicating all meaning in all instances" [26] (p. 177).

However, sharing rules in shorthand assumes young hunters have the deeper understandings it is supposed to recall [26]. In the Padilla and Kofinas case study, the interviewees expressed concern about youth in their community understanding traditional knowledge [34]. In the case of caribou hunting by snowmachine around Kotzebue, the effectiveness of the educational efforts is limited by the youth's lack of knowledge about the use of landscape, caribou physiology, and herding techniques. Because of gaps in the experiential learning required to be a successful hunter, all of the knowledge needed to have a successful hunt is not being communicated well through the short-hand IK rules of thumb that can be shared through a flyer.

Efforts to address subsistence issues surrounding Kotzebue winter caribou hunting will likely require a combination of hunting regulation enforcement and education through IK. In the development of the "Iñupiat Ilitqusiat Guidelines on Winter Caribou Hunting from the Native Village of Kotzebue" (Figure 2), hunters were encouraged to develop IK rules of thumb to respond to the evolving hunting

issue. Rules of thumb have the potential to hold hunters to values and ethics that will sustain the herd, while also allowing agency to the hunter [26]. Some subsistence users have asked for agencies to enforce IK rules of thumb, and at times have gone through the regulatory process to codify the unwritten law of the land [18]. The outcome for the PCMB is a caution that without consensus, the NPS enforcement of IK may be perceived as further infringement on the individual hunter's subsistence rights and as a result, could delegitimize both systems of management [34]. In the informal discussion around IK rules of thumb, the Kotzebue hunters flowed between regulatory changes and IK allowing all of the management tools to be explored—the alignment between hunter actions and IK ethics and values being the ultimate goal.

The CHSWG is expanding on the framework laid out in ANILCA. This follows recommendations, from Spaeder et al., to establish space for NPS and subsistence users to discuss issues outside the formal management structure and to facilitate collaborative efforts to solve issues [18]. Looking at the way the conversation about Kobuk River hunting developed, we can see that when it was brought up at the 2016 SRC meetings, managers and subsistence users were unable to fully understand and address the issue. By forming this working group with a special focus on IK, federal and state managers and subsistence users worked together to identify IK rules of thumb. Participating in the working group meetings and community meetings as "Analytical Workshops" [24] (p. 1271), the NPS has gained a deeper understanding of what is meant by "the lead caribou" and traditional methods of harvesting caribou by snowmachine [22]. This knowledge can be mobilized in NPS interactions with subsistence users such as community meetings, subsistence commissions, and enforcement interactions. The informal setting allows Elders and hunters to discuss the intergenerational and intercommunity disconnect, and the agency staff are able to ask questions and generate solutions.

In the discussion of whether this working group approach leads to the effective management of the WACH, it is important to note that the impact on the WACH population and harvest numbers is outside of the scope of this study. Future research directions may include the impact of co-management initiatives on the WACH population and would need to be monitored over the course of decades. While a qualitative analysis of materials from the CHSWG shows that new information was gained, it is difficult to measure the reach of the educational materials used by the working group. Participation at the community meetings hosted by the working group give us some idea of the expansion of the co-management network, but it does not capture the reach of the message and does not directly correlate to the success of the educational effort. Because of the interpretive aspect of IK, it is also hard to measure success in terms of compliance. In both cases, the local conflicts around subsistence hunting continue. It is not the role of the NPS to fix this conflict, but it is clear that the NPS has an important role in management and that management of the herd should involve IK. This study shows that the collaborative relationships between the NPS and local entities is a step towards effective management.

Limitations to the organization and the reach of the CHSWG do exist. Because the aim is to bring subsistence users and agencies together to work informally, participants have loose obligations to attend. The working group reports back to the Kobuk Valley and Cape Krusenstern SRC; the decision-making power is with the NPS and other land management agencies. With an educational focus, the CHSWG operates within these limitations. Expansion of the efforts of the working group would require commitment from the NPS or other resource management agencies [22].

This study has used three years of data gained through participation and observation. Further analysis could result in a better understanding of where IK originates and the outcomes of sharing that IK. Regardless of the limitations of the working group and research, this should be looked at as part of a broader management effort. The NPS is working to recognize, document, and mobilize IK through multiple efforts. IK is shared with the NPS at SRC meetings and through tribal consultation. Baseline documentation such as Traditional Use Studies are in progress in Noatak National Preserve and Kobuk Valley National Park [7,8]; and IK is integrated into Natural Resource and Cultural Resource projects.

The NPS managers for Cape Krusenstern NM and Kobuk Valley NP can further efforts to mobilize IK following several recommendations that come from our analysis of the CHSWG. First, intercommunity dialogue should be supported. As is customary in IK management systems, decision making is driven by consensus. It may take multiple conversations across different communities to reach a consensus. However, to mobilize IK based on just one source could result in the defiance of the guidelines and/or regulations by the hunters excluded from that by an incomplete consensus [34]. Efforts to bolster IK must focus on long-term discussion, as IK is constantly forming and adapting to new situations. Rules of thumb should not be shared in short form without access to the deeper context [26]. Mentorship programs have been suggested as a solution [32]. Elders hold the authority on IK, and agency staff must be cautious to maintain that dynamic. IK-informed regulations enforced by government agencies threaten to delegitimize both the agency and IK. Lastly, the formation of a working group to focus on specific topics has proven to be a successful informal environment in which to discuss IK.

**Funding:** This research was undertaken as a part of the Western Arctic National Parklands Subsistence Program and funded by the National Park Service.

**Acknowledgments:** This study would not have been possible without the work of the Caribou Hunter Success Working Group. Larry Westlake has contributed greatly to this effort. Cyrus Harris has also provided consistent insight. Thank you to Alex Whiting, Susan Georgette, Raime Fronstin, and Justin Junge for the time spent reviewing and commenting on this manuscript. Thank you to Douglas Deur for insightful discussion that shaped parts of this paper and well-timed advice.

**Conflicts of Interest:** The author declares no conflict of interest.

#### **References**


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## *Article* **Informing Protected Area Decision Making through Academic-Practitioner Collaborations**

#### **Grant Murray 1, Carleigh Randall <sup>2</sup> and Rick Rollins 3,\***


Received: 31 July 2020; Accepted: 2 October 2020; Published: 7 October 2020

**Abstract:** This study examined knowledge mobilization and collaboration practices of practitioners in a Canadian provincial park agency, BC Parks. Data was collected through four focus groups, an on line survey (N = 125), and a follow up workshop. Results showed that the most important information sources used by the agency were "internal" (e.g., policy and management guidelines), while "external sources" such as academic researchers or journals were rated lower. However, those who collaborated with outside groups, including academics, and those working in a science capacity within the agency, rated external information sources more positively. Barriers and enabling conditions for effective knowledge mobilization were identified.

**Keywords:** knowledge mobilization; protected areas; evidence-based decision making

#### **1. Introduction**

For at least the last two decades, there has been a growth in the literature that describes the need for, but suggests a lack of, evidence-based decision-making among conservation practitioners [1–6]. Somewhat more recently, a number of contributions have sought to explain the persistent gaps between science and decision-making by conservation practitioners, and to offer solutions for bridging those gaps [7–10]. Despite this growth in the literature, however, relatively few contributions examine these gaps [10,11], and this has been noted for decision making within protected areas (PAs) [3,11]. Accordingly, this article provides a specific, empirical focus on the relationships between academic researchers, and practitioners within British Columbia (BC) Parks, North America's third largest parks system.

The specific questions of this study were: (1) What is the overall perceived importance of research to BC Parks practitioners in fulfilling their job responsibilities? (2) What levels of importance do BC Parks practitioners assign to different information sources in guiding decision-making? (3) With whom do BC Parks practitioners interact or collaborate with to gather information to guide decision-making? (4) What are the perceived advantages and disadvantages of collaboration with university-based researchers? These questions have been elaborated into hypotheses, described later in the paper. This paper describes the relevant literature (next section), methods used to conduct the study, research findings, discussion, and conclusion.

#### **2. Literature Review**

Several authors have charged that conservation practitioners, for a variety of reasons, tend not to rely on scientific evidence in decision-making, but rather adopt ad hoc processes, relying on experience,

anecdote, and informal relationships to make decisions [1,5,9]. Descriptions of, and suggested solutions to, the gaps between science and practitioner decision-making tend to fall into two overlapping general perspectives. The first, sometimes described as the 'engineering', 'linear', or 'science push' model frames scientists and practitioners as being in somewhat different domains, and essentially posits that 'good' science produced by scientists will be valued and used by decision-making practitioners [8,10,12]. The characteristics that make for 'good science' vary in the literature, though there are some common themes. For example, authors have pointed to the importance of asking better/different questions, including adopting interdisciplinary approaches, bringing in the social sciences, attacking 'real-world' and/or 'relevant' problems, and producing results within time-frames that more closely match the needs of practitioners [7,10,13,14]. In addition to this attention to the nature of science produced, others have focused on the importance of science communication. Authors in this vein have emphasized factors such as the lack of access to scientific sources (e.g., subscription journals), prohibitively complex language, inadequate 'translation' and the absence of explicit connections to decision-making, and the tendency of some scientists to simply avoid policy/decision-making arenas [7,10,15–17]. This engineering model has implications for the present study, as the model suggests that those conservation practitioners employed in a science capacity may be more supportive of the use of science in decision making, and attach more importance to the use of information sources external to the agency.

The engineering model has also been criticized for being overly simplified. In contrast, the social or 'two-way' model focuses on the interactive social aspects of knowledge utilization. For example, researchers have pointed to (a lack of) opportunities for direct interactions between scientists and practitioners such as informal personal contacts, participation in committees, and other mechanisms [10,18]. Some authors have suggested that cultural, organizational, or ideological differences between scientists and practitioners can lead to difficult communication and barriers [10,14,19], while others have suggested that developing more participatory and inclusive processes of research objective setting and knowledge production (including the useful roles that intermediary 'knowledge brokers' and/or boundary spanners can play) will lead to better understanding and uptake [8,9,20]. This social model has implications for the present study, as the model suggests that those conservation practitioners who have collaborated with other groups external to the agency may be more supportive of the use of science in decision making, and attach more importance to the use of information sources external to the agency.

Despite the elaboration of these conceptual models, and the wide range of barriers and solutions identified, there has been relatively little empirical investigation of how these apply in practice [2,9,21]. There are important exceptions, however, some of which are useful to mention here. For example, in a study of Australian protected area managers' use of evidence-based knowledge (derived from research, monitoring, and/or formal assessment), Cook et al. [3] found that 2% to 20% of conservation managers used evidence-based knowledge exclusively to support their management decisions. Managers tended to use multiple sources of evidence, including general and specific management plans (termed "intermediate evidence"); and observational and anecdotal data ("experience-based evidence") in addition to evidence-based knowledge. Further, the type of evidence used varied substantially depending on the management issue at hand. For example, 57% of managers used experience-based evidence when addressing visitor impacts, whereas approximately 20% of managers reported using evidence-based sources to address management of cultural heritage use [2,3]. Findings also indicated that although managers valued empirical evidence, they reported insufficient access to empirical evidence to support decision-making [2]. Similarly, Sutherland et al. [1] found that practitioners (wetland managers) in the UK overwhelmingly favored 'common sense', personal experience and talking to other managers over the primary scientific literature. Likewise, Pullin et al. [15] surveyed compilers of management plans within UK conservation organizations and found that existing management plans, opinions from outside experts, reference to previous management plans and public reviews were accessed much more frequently than published science.

Although the gaps between science and decision-making in conservation are well documented, recent evidence suggests there appears to be much consensus regarding the barriers and solutions. For example, a recent global survey involving 758 respondents, selected to represent the fields of policy, practice, and research in 68 countries were asked to describe barriers to knowledge mobilization, and possible solutions [22]. The top 10 barriers reported in this study were: (1) lack of policy relevant science; (2) lack of a political priority for conservation; (3) mismatch of time scales; (4) complex uncertain problems; (5) little understanding of science by policy-makers; (6) lack of funding for conservation science; (7) priority of the private sector agenda over conservation; (8) insufficient consideration of stakeholders; (9) lack of understanding by scientists about how policy is made; and, (10) bad communication between scientists and policy makers. Five solutions emerged from the study: (1) provide incentives for scientists to work on policy issues; (2) translate key findings in journals into different languages; (3) create more collaborations between scientists and policy makers (meetings, projects, etc.); (4) provide more knowledge brokers and; (5) tailor evidence to audience (blogs, open access, policy briefs, etc.). These listings of barriers and solutions to knowledge mobilization can be linked to the present study, in that they suggest, in part, that those conservation practitioners who are based at BC Parks headquarters in Victoria will have better access to academic researchers (that is, near to 5 universities) and may be more supportive of the use of science in decision making, and attach more importance to the use of information sources external to the agency.

Further insights into social processes involved in knowledge mobilization are provided by Reed et al. [23]. Moving beyond describing the barriers to knowledge mobilization, the authors suggest that the social learning model of knowledge mobilization can be improved through the application of five principles, developed from interviews conducted with 32 researchers and stakeholders involved in 13 environmental projects in the UK: (1) incorporate knowledge mobilization as part of research processes from the outset of a project, to develop trust and shared ownership; (2) understand the needs of all stakeholders in a project; (3) build long term, trusting relationships; (4) deliver tangible results as soon as possible; and (5) consider how to sustain stakeholder relationships beyond the life of a project.

Of course, 'science/scientist' and 'practitioner' are general (and overlapping) categories and science-practice gaps can occur across a wide range of contexts. Further, we recognize that there are different types of knowledge that are pertinent to decision making in the context of conservation and PAs [24,25], and this would include: academic knowledge (natural sciences and social sciences); local knowledge; indigenous knowledge; and expert professional knowledge (e.g., knowledge gained from experience by PA managers). In this article, we are particularly interested in the relationships between academic (university-based) research related to decision-making by BC Parks, a government agency that administers Provincial Parks in British Columbia, Canada. Parks and protected areas have long been the sites of academic research, and Canadian PAs are no exception. For example, a ProQuest dissertation search revealed a listing of 734 theses and dissertations completed at 98 Canadian universities, but we have no sense of the impact of this research on decision making in PAs. Further, we have little knowledge of the needs of practitioners (such as government park agencies), how they perceive the advantages and limitations of working with academic science/scientists in relationship to other sources, and how they utilize it in decision-making information (see also [4,26,27]). Accordingly, this paper explores the usefulness of academic research as perceived by practitioners within a conservation agency, BC Parks, and examines three possible explanatory factors identified in this literature review, leading to the following hypotheses:

**Hypothesis 1 (H1).** *External information sources of information (outside of BC Parks) will be perceived to be more important by those practitioners who have collaborated with "external sources" (such as academics); are employed in a science capacity; or are employed in Victoria headquarters.*

**Hypothesis 2 (H2).** *Overall importance of research is perceived to be more important by those practitioners who have collaborated with "external sources" (such as academics); are employed in a science capacity; or who are employed in BC Parks headquarters in Victoria, BC.*

#### **3. Methodology**

#### *3.1. Study Background: BC Parks*

BC Parks, as part of the Provincial Ministry of Environment, is responsible for the designation, management and conservation of a system of protected areas located throughout the province. BC Park's mission is to protect representative and special natural places within the Province's Protected Areas System for world-class conservation, outdoor recreation, education, and scientific study. BC Parks' services and management are delivered through a headquarters office in Victoria and regional offices in five regions located throughout the province. As of 2019, the system managed by BC Parks included 1034 protected lands, covering approximately 14.4% of BC or approximately 14 million hectares [28]. British Columbia's protected areas system is the third largest in North America (after the Canadian and United States national parks systems) and the largest provincial/territorial system in Canada [28]. There are a number of employment categories within the organization, including natural science, visitor management, planning and protected area designation, and field operations.

#### *3.2. Research Design*

The research incorporated a phased design that was developed in close collaboration with two senior staff affiliated with BC Parks. Data collection consisted of two main stages: the first stage was a series of four focus groups, the primary purpose of which was to inform the development of an online survey comprising the second stage of the research. Results of these two stages were presented to attendees at a subsequent annual BC Parks employee conference. Though unstructured, this feedback process generated some useful insights, some of which are presented here. All of this work was conducted with the approval of the relevant University research ethics boards.

Focus groups were led by university-based researchers (authors on this study). Groups were designed to include a number of different types of BC Parks employees (working in different job types), and to include representatives from different parts of the Province. The first focus group was conducted by telephone with seven resource conservation officers employed by BC Parks, representing different administrative regions within the Province. The second focus group was conducted by telephone with six visitor service officers employed by BC Parks, also representing different administrative regions within the province. The third and fourth focus groups were undertaken in a face-to-face format at two provincial parks with two BC Parks employees at each venue. At each focus group, we asked questions relating to: (1) pressing management issues or challenges faced (these data are not presented here); (2) types of information used (or planned to use) in developing policy or decisions regarding those management issues; and (3) experience with university researchers, including professors and students, in helping to make management decisions.

#### *3.3. Questionnaire Survey Design*

Findings from these focus groups were incorporated into the design of an online questionnaire, used to collect data from all BC Parks employees located in Victoria, B.C. head office and regional offices located throughout the province.

Two dependent variables indicated in the hypotheses were included in the questionnaire. The first dependent variable was "overall importance of research", measured on a five-point Likert style scale from 1 'not too important' to 5 'extremely important'. The second dependent variable examined the importance of 16 information sources (identified during the focus groups as potentially being important) including external sources (such as university research) and internal sources (such as government reports and websites) to fulfilling their job responsibilities. Response categories to these items also were measured on a five-point Likert style scale from 1 'not too important' to 5 'extremely important'. This response scale is ordinal, but was analyzed as interval data in order to produce mean scores and to generate t test findings when comparing mean scores between groups, as indicated in the research hypotheses and tables of findings below. Treatment of ordinal data in this way is a common procedure in social sciences [29].

Three independent variables were indicated in the hypotheses as possibly influencing the responses to the dependent variables described above. The first independent variable is "collaboration with an external group", where respondents were asked to indicate how many times in the past 12-month period they had collaborated with external groups, through a partnership or short term research contract. A three-category response format was provided: 'never', '1 to 5 times' and 'more than 5 times'. For analysis, these responses were collapsed into two categories: (1) did collaborate; and (2) did not collaborate. It was reasoned that respondents who had collaborated with an external group would rate the use of science more highly, as well as the use of external sources of information.

The second independent variable was "type of employment", where respondents were provided with the following response categories: natural science, visitor management, planning, or field operations. BC Parks staff informed the researchers that the agency employed scientists in the natural science category but not in the other categories. Therefore, for analysis, type of employment was later recoded as (1) science (natural science) or (2) other (merging the other remaining categories). It was reasoned that respondents with a science type of employment in the agency would rate the use of science more highly, as well as the use of external sources of information.

The third independent variable was "location" where respondents were coded as (1) located in the park headquarters in Victoria; or (2) located in one of the regional offices located in more remote areas of the province. It was reasoned that respondents located in Victoria would have greater access to other external information sources, compared to respondents located in more remote locations, and would rate the use of science more highly, as well as the use of external sources of information.

Lastly, an open-ended response format was used to capture the perceived advantages and disadvantages of having university researchers undertake studies for BC Parks.

#### *3.4. Pilot Studies and Survey Administration*

In April, 2016, two pilot studies were undertaken prior to administering the questionnaire to assist with questionnaire development and field-testing. Questionnaires were then administered online in May, 2016, using Grapevine Online Survey Tool to 178 BC Parks employees located in Victoria, B.C. head office and regional offices located throughout the province.

These efforts resulted in 125 useable questionnaires and an overall response rate of 70%. Of the 125 respondents, 78% were located in regional offices throughout BC and 22% of respondents were located at BC Parks head office in Victoria. Data on attributes of respondents were not recorded. Quantitative data was exported from the online format and analyzed using SPSS software. Differences in mean responses between groups on Likert-style questions were tested using the student's *t*-test for independent samples. Effect sizes were measured with Cohen's d [29], which can be interpreted as "minimal" (d = 0.20), "typical" (d = 0.50), or "substantial" (d = 0.80). Qualitative data gathered from open-ended questions was analyzed for themes using an inductive approach within the range of responses to each open-ended question. In this paper, we focus on the findings obtained from the online survey, though we occasionally add insights from the focus groups and feedback workshop that inform the analysis of the results.

#### **4. Results**

In this section the results of the on-line survey are presented, focusing on the two dependent variables: (1) importance of specific information sources in making decisions; and (2) overall importance of science in decision making. Both of these independent variables are examined with three independent variables: (1) location; (2) type of employment; and (3) collaboration.

#### *4.1. Importance of Specific Information Sources by BC Parks Employees*

Respondents were asked to rate the importance of information sources to their work, using a 5-point scale ranging from 1 = not too important, to 5 = extremely important. Table 1 displays the mean responses, standard deviation, and rank order (based on mean scores). These results indicate that the five most important information sources used to make management decisions were internal to BC Parks and include, (1) advice from BC Parks staff; (2) advice from Ministry of Environment (MOE); (3) PA management plans; (4) BC Parks policy; and (5) in house workshops. External information sources ranked lower, including: (6) informal meetings with interest groups; (8) advice from consultants; (10) consultant reports; (11) advice from academic researchers; and (16) academic journal articles, which ranked the lowest of all information sources.


**Table 1.** Mean importance rankings of internal and external information sources.

#### *4.2. The E*ff*ect of Type of Employment on Importance of External Information Sources*

External sources of information are of particular interest in the present study, and were examined more closely in the next stage of analysis. The first comparison (Table 2) compares those BC Parks employees involved in "science", with those employed in "other" capacities. As described in the methods section, the "science" group consisted of natural scientists employed by the agency, and the "other" group consisted of those employees assigned to other positions, including visitor management, planning, or field operations. The independent samples *t*-test analysis indicates that those employed in science tend to have higher mean ratings for most external information sources, including: advice from consultants, consultant reports, advice from academic researchers, professional conferences, and academic journals. D values ranged from 0.49 to 1.63, suggesting typical to substantial effects [29].


**Table 2.** The effect of type of employment on importance of external information sources.

#### *4.3. The E*ff*ect of Location of Employment on Importance of External Information Sources*

The analysis was repeated to compare mean importance scores for those working in Victoria with those working in other regions of the province. These comparisons indicated no significant differences between these two groups for any of the external information sources.

#### *4.4. The E*ff*ect of Collaboration on Importance of External Information Sources*

Respondents were asked to indicate how many times in the past 12 months they had collaborated with different groups to undertake research. The majority of respondents had collaborated with consultants (65.6%), local clubs or organizations (65.8%), and students (50.4%). Respondents collaborated the least with instructors or professors (39.2%). Each of these four types of collaboration were explored separately to determine possible relationship with each type of external information (Table 3).

The first column of Table 3 lists the four types of collaboration and the six types of external information sources. Columns 2 and 3 compare the mean importance scores between those respondents who collaborated with the mean importance scores of those who did not. For example, the first segment of the table examines the effect of collaborating with consultants. The first line examines the importance of academic journals, comparing the mean importance scores for those who did collaborate with consultants (mean = 2.3), with those who had not collaborated with consultants (mean = 2.2). This difference was not statistically significant, as indicated by the *p* value of 0.306. However, this part of the table indicates that those who collaborated with consultants rated three types of external information sources significantly higher than those who did not collaborate with consultants, as follows: advice from academic researchers, advice from consultants, and consultant reports.

The rest of Table 3 indicates a number of significant comparisons, with higher importance scores in all cases for those respondents who had collaborated. The second segment of the table examines the impact of those who had collaborated with local groups, and indicates just one significant finding, a higher mean importance score for informal meetings by those who had collaborated with local groups. The most consistent difference in importance ratings occur between those BC Park practitioners who collaborated with students or instructors/professors and those that did not. For those that had collaborated at least once with students, five of the six possible comparisons were significant, with effect sizes (d) between 0.29 and 0.57. Similarly, for those BC Parks' practitioners who had collaborated with instructors/professors, four out of six comparisons were significant, and effect sizes (d) varied between 0.25 and 0.66.



*Land* **2020**, *9*, 375

#### *4.5. Overall Importance of Research to Their Work*

When asked about the overall importance of availability of research to their work, the majority (54%) of respondents stated that research studies were extremely important (10%) or very important (44%) in decision-making. Less than half the respondents felt that research was moderately important (28%) or slightly or not important (18%). The average response for the importance of research was 3.39 on a five-point Likert-style scale. These findings suggest variability in perceptions of the overall importance of research, an observation that is taken up in the following sections that examine the effect of collaboration, type of work, and location of work.

#### *4.6. The E*ff*ect of Collaboration on Overall Importance of Research to Their Work*

Table 4 examines each type of collaboration and compares those who collaborated with those who had not collaborated. Those respondents who collaborated with consultants, local clubs, or with students indicated significantly higher overall importance of research compared to those who had not collaborated. For example, lines 1 and 2 compare those respondents who collaborated with consultants with those who had not collaborated with consultants. The mean importance score of those who had collaborated with consultants was 3.5, compared to 2.9 for those who had not collaborated with consultants, and this difference is statistically significant. Similar results are apparent for those who collaborated with local clubs, and with students. D values ranged from 0.32 to 0.57. However, this pattern did not extend to those who collaborated with instructors/professors, where observed differences were not significant.


**Table 4.** The effect of type of collaboration on the overall importance of research.

#### *4.7. The E*ff*ect of Type of Work and Location of Work on Overall Importance of Research to Their Work*

The "type of work" analysis involved a comparison of those who were employed in a science capacity with those employed in other areas. Those employees involved in science had a significantly higher mean rating for the overall importance of research to their work (mean = 4.0) compared to other BC Parks employees (mean = 3.3; df = 33.8, t = 3.54, *p* = 0.001, d = 0.86).

Analysis by "location of work" involved comparisons similar to those in Table 4, but in this case comparing mean responses of those respondents living in Victoria (near to park headquarters) in with those living in more remote regions of the province. These comparisons were not statistically significant.

#### *4.8. Advantages and Disadvantages of Collaboration*

Respondents were asked to provide open-ended responses about their perceived advantages and disadvantages of having university/college instructors or students undertake research studies for BC Parks. These findings are presented in Table 5. The most cited advantage was the low cost (for BC Parks) of university research (46%), followed by increased information (27%), and a cutting-edge perspective (23%). Disadvantages cited included more work for the respondents to supervise, manage and provide permits for outside research (27%), low quality of research (22%), and that the research was not useful

(17%). Fewer respondents reported lack of organizational understanding (of academic scientists of BC Parks), available time (of BC Parks employees for collaboration), and lack of access to findings as disadvantages.

**Table 5.** Perceived advantages and disadvantages of University- British Columbia (BC) Parks collaborative partnerships.


Further analysis of this data was not carried out, due to concerns stemming from lower response rates to this question, and the subjective nature of qualitative data obtained in this question. Hence comparisons by location, type of work, or collaboration are not provided.

Findings from the focus groups and workshop shed additional light on impediments to collaboration between university researchers and BC Parks employees and/or the use of collaboratively generated research findings, including: time lag for academic researchers to complete the research, lack of contact with researchers, lack of confidence and trust in the information, and lack of communication of research findings.

Respondents were also asked whether the agency should give, more, less, or the same attention to developing academic partnerships (if funding could be secured for 'applied research projects in BC parks'). The majority (57%) felt that more attention, and 27% felt that 'much more' attention should be placed on this type of partnership.

#### **5. Discussion**

This study examined the types of information used by BC Parks in decision making, and specifically the role of external sources such as academic research. The main findings of this study can be summarized as follows: (1) internal sources of information are generally more important to BC Parks practitioners that are external sources of information; (2) those employed in science roles within the agency tend to attach greater importance to external sources of information than do those working in other capacities; (3) those respondents who had recently collaborated with external groups (including academics), tend to attach greater importance to external sources of information compared to those who had not collaborated recently; (4) respondents identified many advantages of collaborating with academics, including obtaining low cost, increased information, and cutting edge perspectives, and, (5) disadvantages of collaborating with academics included needing to do more work, low quality perspectives, and collaboration not always being useful. These findings are discussed in the following sections.

#### *5.1. Relative Importance of Internal and External Information Sources*

One of the interesting outcomes of this project lies in the relationship between the findings that suggest, on the one hand, BC Parks practitioners value research in decision-making and wish to see more university partnerships, but that on the other, 'typical' academic products (journal papers, conferences, interaction with academics) are seen as among the least important sources of information. These findings are consistent with many other studies [1,5,9,30,31]. Together, these findings demand attention towards other 'pathways' by which scientifically derived information can enter into decision-making, including the role of collaborations with different groups (including, but not limited to, scientists) and drawing on information sources other than typical academic products. There are several other findings that are worth highlighting in this vein.

For example, the results suggest that internal sources such as advice from BC Parks staff, MoE employees, BC Parks policy, and management documents are more important to respondents (as a whole) in fulfilling their work responsibilities than external sources, such as advice from academic researchers, conferences and academic journal articles. These results resonate with other studies that have found conservation managers tend to rely on informal sources, internal interactions, and 'experience' [1,3,5,15].

#### *5.2. The E*ff*ect of Type of Work and Location of Work*

The findings indicate that BC Parks practitioners vary somewhat in their opinions, with those employed within the science realm of the agency attaching greater importance to external sources of information, such as consultant reports, advice from academics and academic journals. In contrast to Landry et al. [7], who found no evidence that position predicts knowledge utilization across several policy domains, this study found that although BC Parks practitioners as a whole valued research highly, there were differences among these practitioners in terms of the importance assigned to different information sources. 'BC Park practitioners' are not a homogeneous group, but rather represent an amalgamation of employee 'types' with different responsibilities and information needs. Specifically, regarding overall importance of research, the mean importance reported by employees involved in 'science' was higher than for employees in other roles. Further, importance ratings for half of the external information sources, including advice from academic researchers, professional conferences, and academic journal articles, were significantly higher for those in science than those in other positions. On the other hand, employee work location (BC Parks headquarters or outside of headquarters) provided little or no explanatory power for variation in mean importance rankings for external information.

Further, just because a source is 'internal' (or what Cook et al. [3] might call 'intermediate') does not mean that the internal source is not itself built on, or informed by, other sources of information (including academic science). However, Cook et al. [3] express some concern towards some intermediate information sources that have not verified the information through monitoring or other reliability testing. This is an area warranting further research.

#### *5.3. The E*ff*ect of Collaboration*

The findings highlight the importance of collaboration, which often involves knowledge transmission. Up to two thirds of BC Parks' practitioners had engaged in some forms of collaboration but about 40% had not, a finding similar to Crona and Parker [20], who found that 44% of scientists and practitioners had no interaction with each other. However, while many BC Parks practitioners had collaborated at least once with other groups, this study did not explore the nature or meaningfulness of these collaborations. This is an area for future research.

Collaboration (with various groups) was correlated with BC Parks practitioners' overall perceptions of the importance of research (Table 4). BC Parks practitioners who have collaborated with instructors/professors and students tend to perceive academic journal articles, advice from researchers and professional conferences as more important than those who do not collaborate. The implication that university collaboration may enhance knowledge utilization has been supported in previous studies that found the number of direct contacts and intensity of links between policy makers/decision-makers and researchers to be good predictors of knowledge utilization [20,27,32,33]. Belkhodja et al. [32], for example, examined organizational determinants of research use in the Canadian health system and found that formal linkages between producers and users of research as the most important organizational determinant of research use. Overall, these studies identify the importance of personal interaction and linkages between producers and users of research [20,22,23], with calls for more empirical work examining collaboration processes as a means of improving knowledge utilization [17].

#### *5.4. Perceived Advantages and Disadvantages of Collaborations*

This study provided several insights about the perceived advantages and disadvantages of practitioner-academic collaborations (Table 5). Several advantages to University-BC Parks collaboration were directly identified in the results, including low cost, increased information and the provision of a cutting-edge perspective. At the same time, several disadvantages were also identified, including more work for BC Parks practitioners, low quality and usefulness of research, lack of contact with researchers, lack of confidence and trust in the information, and a lack of access to findings (though this last one was mentioned by a small number of respondents). Responses related to a lack of understanding of BC Parks and a lack of access to available research resonate with previous research that has identified similar barriers [2,7,10,15–17]. Many of these barriers may be related to instances of lower collaboration or ineffective collaboration, such that relationships of trust and mutual understanding are not developed leading to lost opportunities for mutual understanding of agency needs (see [22,23]). As McNie [4] states, simply providing more research is often inadequate if it does not correspond to the information needs of the decision makers. Participants in focus groups also noted that this mismatch can stem from the fact that BC Parks has a limited budget to initiate research and that collaboration between BC Parks and academics tends to occur when academic institutions choose to initiate collaboration with BC Parks.

On the other hand, both lack of access and a lack of fit with BC Parks needs were mentioned much less frequently than practical considerations related to the time/work demands of supporting university research, as well as concerns about the quality of work. These two disadvantages were frequently discussed in focus groups, and often centered on the role of students. Students were described as playing central roles in academic efforts in BC Parks and, on the one hand, were frequently described as providing fresh, timely perspectives at low cost. At the same time, however, they were often described as requiring a lot of work (mentorship, oversight, and guidance), and producing results of uneven quality. These finding suggest that effective collaborations may take time to initiate and sustain, to allow for academics to better understand the needs of a PA agency, and for a PA agency to realize the benefits that can accrue from investing some time and effort with an academic partner. In this vein, Reed et al. [23] describe how knowledge mobilization should be part of a research project, not just a component added once the research is completed, in order to create relevance, reliability, and accessibility to academic research.

The role of internal BC Parks scientists in bridging the academic knowledge/decision-making gap emerged from this study as an important area for additional research. For example, while many BC Parks practitioners tend not to utilize traditional academic outputs, those that identify as scientists appear more likely to do so. Additionally, by far the most important sources of information for decision-making are advice from BC Parks staff, as well as the 'codified knowledge' present in management plans (what Cook et al. [3] call 'intermediate knowledge'). Presumably, internal scientists play a role in providing this advice and developing these 'intermediate' forms of knowledge. The importance of another informal pathway created by internal scientists was highlighted in a description, offered in more than one focus group, of a former employee who took it upon himself to act as a 'boundary spanner' by providing, via email, a brief summary of current, relevant research findings to interested employees. Many participants noted how important this source of information was, and how disappointed they were when this employee stopped doing so. These findings point to the utility of adopting a perspective that looks at the complex ways, often based on personal interactions, by which science can move into

decision-making [8,9,20,27,33]. Network analysis, as adopted by Crona and Parker [20], shows promise as a tool to investigate these types of interactions.

In considering these findings, it should be noted that they are case specific, and limited to the context of BC Parks and collaborations with academic scientists. Further, this study focused on the importance of research and specific information sources—findings cannot speak to the impact or influence of research on actual policy making. Future research could incorporate knowledge utilization measures, as adopted in other studies [20,27,34] to address levels of impact and influence of scientific knowledge on decision-making.

#### **6. Conclusions**

This study explored the use and relevance of research to BC Parks practitioners, the level of collaboration with university researchers and other external groups, and the influence of this collaboration on perceptions of the importance of research. We found that while BC Parks practitioners consider research to be important in their work, and would like to see more collaboration with academic scientists, they also rank traditional academic venues (journal articles, conferences, etc.) as among the least important sources of information. Rather, they tend to rely on personal interactions within their own agency, and on 'intermediate' forms of knowledge as embedded in policy guidelines and management plans [3]. These findings suggest that cultural and/or ideological differences do not play simple roles as barriers; nor do they suggest that producing 'more or better science' (as suggested by linear model ways of thinking) are likely to bridge the science–practice gap in isolation. Those in 'science' positions within the agency also appear to play an important role in processes by which academic types of knowledge are utilized. Moreover, collaboration levels positively influence perceptions of research and the perceived importance of information sources. Given the findings in this study and others [20,27], future research adopting a social interactions framework to examine social linkages between researchers and practitioners and the influence of those linkages on knowledge utilization is warranted. As described in Allen [24], this process involves moving beyond the engineering model described in this paper toward a multi stakeholder approach in which participants, including decision-makers, scientists, and other stakeholders are empowered to work collaboratively to develop the research project. This approach is more likely to create a shared understanding of the findings and contribute to on the ground decisions.

While this study has examined the barriers and enabling conditions for the mobilization of academic knowledge within the context of protected areas, future studies could expand this research to examine other types of knowledge thought to be relevant to the management of protected areas, including local community knowledge and indigenous knowledge, as outlined in Allen et al. [24].

**Author Contributions:** Conceptualization and methodology used in the project was undertaken by G.M. and R.R. Project funding and project management was undertaken by G.M. Data collection and storage was undertaken by R.R. and G.M. Data analysis and visualization (tables) was undertaken by C.R. Initial drafts of the paper were developed by C.R. and G.M. Review and editing of the paper was undertaken by R.R. All authors have read and agreed to the published version of the manuscript.

**Funding:** This research received no external funding.

**Conflicts of Interest:** The authors declare no conflict of interest.

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