The rise of Green Lairds: Scotland's new Era of land ownership

Ewan Paterson, Estate Manager for Highlands Rewilding and Keir Smith, head of woodlands for Highlands Rewilding, walk through part of the estate. Picture: Emily Macinnes/The Washington Post

Ewan Paterson, Estate Manager for Highlands Rewilding and Keir Smith, head of woodlands for Highlands Rewilding, walk through part of the estate. Picture: Emily Macinnes/The Washington Post

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TAYVALLICH, Scotland - In the picturesque landscapes of Scotland, the echoes of the Victorian elite’s passions for hunting and grand soirées still linger among the sprawling estates that dot the countryside. From Balmoral Castle—more palace than mere castle—to isolated highlands, these realms encapsulate generations of privilege and tradition. Yet today, as environmental urgency escalates, these historic properties are gaining a new breed of owners: the so-called “green lairds.”

Ewan Paterson, Estate Manager for Highlands Rewilding and Keir Smith, head of woodlands for Highlands Rewilding, walk through part of the estate. Picture: Emily Macinnes/The Washington Post

Unlike the barons of yore, modern buyers are drawn not by the allure of game or whisky, but by the promise of carbon credits and the lucrative potential of “natural capital.” With governments actively promoting investments in forestation and peatland restoration, energy companies, private equity funds, and various industries are now sinking their money into these once exclusive domains, deeply entrenched in the history of Scottish land ownership.

SCOTLAND, GREAT BRITAIN - NOVEMBER 14, 2024: Ewan Paterson, Estate manager for Highlands Rewilding attach a night camera to track for deer, which are having a detrimental impact on regeneration of natural vegetation.(Photo by Emily Macinnes/For The Washington Post)

At the heart of this movement are the stark statistics: just 421 families, trusts, and corporations control half of Scotland's private rural land, according to the "Who Owns Scotland?" database compiled by former lawmaker Andy Wightman. The influx of carbon credit-focused buyers raises significant questions about land ownership concentration and its implications for rural communities.

One pioneering figure in this movement is Jeremy Leggett, a former Greenpeace science director and champion of solar energy. His company, Highlands Rewilding, is converting vast estates into “natural capital laboratories.” His latest acquisition, the Tayvallich Estate, showcases some of Scotland’s most breathtaking terrain along its rugged coastline, making it a potential goldmine for carbon credits through responsible land management.

Leggett asserts that viable carbon storage and biodiversity cultivation must be financially incentivised; without profits, the ambition of restoring ecosystems globally remains unattainable. Yet, locals are often sceptical, voicing concerns about the sustainability of large estates becoming profit-driven ventures. There’s widespread unease that these projects may not compensate enough for the rising costs of land and homes that hardworking Scots can no longer afford.

Countering this scepticism is Danish billionaire Anders Povlsen, the largest private landowner in Scotland. With his hospitality group Wildland, Povlsen focuses on restoring habitats degraded by centuries of exploitation but also weaves luxurious ecotourism into the fabric of his estates. Yet even as these affluent owners tout their green initiatives, tangible impacts remain questionable. Local papers are littered with stories of failed projects and rising land prices, sparking debates about genuine ecological advancement versus corporate greenwashing.

The ongoing “green rush” in Scotland is not without its controversies. Activists are rallying for comprehensive land reform, aiming to diversify land ownership and elevate community voices in decision-making. Critics of the elite buyers warn that without careful oversight, the current trend could lead to further displacement of local populations, perpetuating historical injustices rooted deep in Scotland's land-use legacies.

Land use interventions, such as managing invasive species and reintroducing lost flora and fauna, demonstrate the complexities surrounding rewilding projects like Leggett’s. The challenges of eradicating Victorian-era introduced species, such as rhododendrons and overindulged deer, pose both practical and ethical dilemmas. The movement’s aim to restore ecological balances while generating profits remains a precarious dance between nature and capitalism.

Nevertheless, beneath the surface level of scepticism, some locals express cautious optimism. Ewan Paterson, the former manager of the Tayvallich Estate, and his team have been methodically analysing the area’s biodiversity and executing inventory control using high-tech methods like drones and thermal imaging. This level of engagement exemplifies a potential shift in land management paradigms, reflecting a mutual interest in co-existing with local communities.

As rewilding becomes a more prominent theme in Scottish land discourse, conversations persist around its implications for agriculture, community dynamics, and the ecological future of the region. With nuanced debates around the socio-economic landscape and environmental responsibilities, the fate of Scotland’s vast estates hangs in a delicate balance. - Washington Post