The Training of a Forester

by Gifford Pinchot

The Forester can not succeed unless he understands the problems and point of view of his country, and that is the reason why Foresters from other lands were not brought into the United States in the early stages of the forest movement. At that time practically no American Foresters had yet been trained, and the great need of the situation was for men to do the immediately pressing work. Foresters from Germany, France, Switzerland, and other countries could have been obtained in abundant numbers and at reasonable salaries. They were not invited to come because, however well trained in technical forestry, they could not have understood the habits of thought of our people. Therefore, in too many cases, they would have failed to establish the kind of practical understanding which a Forester must have with the men who use, or work in, his forest, if he is to succeed. It was wiser to wait until Americans could be trained, for the practising Forester must handle men as well as trees.

One of the most difficult things to do in any profession which involves drudgery (and I take it that no profession which does not involve drudgery is worth the attention of a man) is to look beyond the daily routine to the things which that routine is intended to assist in accomplishing. This is peculiarly true of forestry, in which, perhaps more than in any other profession, the long-distance, far-sighted attitude of mind is essential to success. The trees a Forester plants he himself will seldom live to harvest. Much of his thought about his forest must be in terms of centuries. The great object for which he is striving of necessity can not be fully accomplished during his lifetime. He must, therefore, accustom himself to look ahead, and to reap his personal satisfaction from the planned and orderly development of a scheme the perfect fruit of which he can never hope to see.

This is one of the strongest reasons why the Forester, whether in public or private employment, must always look upon himself as a public servant. It is of the first importance that he should accustom himself to think of the results of his work as affecting, not primarily himself, but others, always including the general public. It is essential for a Forester to form the habit of looking far ahead, out of which grows a sound perspective and persistence in body and mind.

One of the greatest football players of our time makes the distinction between a player who is "quick" and a player who is "soon." In his description, the "quick" player is the man who waits until the last moment and then moves with nervous and desperate haste in the little time he has left. The man who is "soon," however, almost invariably arrives ahead of the man who is "quick," because he has thought out in advance exactly where he is going and how to get there, and when the moment comes he does not delay his start, makes no false motions, and thereby makes and keeps himself efficient. Forestry is preëminently a profession for the "soon" man, for it is the steady preparation long in advance, the well-thoughtout plan well stuck to, which in forestry brings success.

In my experience, men differ comparatively little in mere ability, in the quality of the mental machine, through which the spirit works. Nine times out of ten, it is not ability which brings success, but persistence and enthusiasm, which are usually, but not always, the same as vision and will. We all have ability enough to do the things which lie before us, but the man with the will to keep everlastingly at it, and the vision to realize the meaning and value of the results for which he is striving, is the man who wins in nearly every case. This is true in all human affairs, but it is peculiarly true of the Forester and his task, the end of which lies so far ahead.

In a class below me at Phillips-Exeter Academy was a boy who had just entered the school. His great ambition was to play football, and he came to the practise day after day. His abilities, however, were apparently not on the same plane with his ambitions, and his work was so ridiculously poor that he became the laughing stock of the whole school. That, however, troubled him not at all. What held his mind was football. Undiscouraged and undismayed, he kept on playing football until in his last year he became captain of the Exeter football team.

Every man of experience has known many similar cases. It is clear, I think, that the master qualities in achievement are neither luck nor mere ability, but rather enthusiasm and persistence, or vision and will.

In a peculiar sense the Forester depends upon public opinion and public support for the means of carrying on his work, and for its final success. But the attention which the public gives or can give to any particular subject varies, and of necessity must vary, from time to time. Under these circumstances, it is inevitable that the Forester must meet discouragements, checks, and delays, as well as periods of smooth sailing. He should expect them, and should be prepared to discount them when they come. When they do come, I know of no better way of reducing their bad effects than for a man to make allowance for his own state of mind. He who can stand off and look at himself impartially, realizing that he will not feel to-morrow as he feels to-day, has a powerful weapon against the temporary discouragements which are necessarily met in any work that is really worth while. Progress is always in spirals, and there is always a good time coming. There is nothing so fatal to good work as that flabby spirit under which some weak men try to hide their inefficiency—the spirit of "What's the use?"

It has been the experience of every Forester, as he goes about the country, to be told that a certain mountain is impassable, that a certain trail can not be travelled, that a certain stream can not be crossed, and to find that mountain, trail, and stream can all be passed with little serious difficulty by a man who is willing to try. Most things said to be impossible are so only in the mind of the man whose timidity or inertness keeps him from making the attempt. The whole story of the establishment and growth of the United States Forest Service is a story of the doing of things which the men who did them were warned in advance would be impossible. Usually the thing which "can't be done" is well worth trying.

Perhaps I ought to add that I am not urging the young Forester to disregard local public opinion without the best of reasons, or to rush his horse blindly into the ford of a swollen stream. Good sense is the first condition of success. I am merely saying that in ninety-nine cases out of a hundred, when a thing ought to be done it can be done, if the effort is made with that idea in mind.