Last call for the uplands?

Simon Reinhold attends a seminar on grouse moors, where the guests are varied, from well-known Shots to keen rewilders

There was determination and exasperation in his voice in equal measure: "You're definitely coming, aren't you?" In truth, I wouldn't have missed it. The chance to spend even a few hours on the moor is an opportunity I take when I can. But organising a conference entitled Why Moorlands Matter, to try to spread the word of the importance of these places, had proved more difficult than Tarquin Millington-Drake had imagined.

He had put together a list of speakers and hospitality that most people would have spent a large sum on.

The private (deliberately unnamed) lodge, complete with chef and great wine, was laid on in an effort to get both sides of the driven grouse moor argument to come together and talk.

I guess it's what young people would call 'a safe space'. 

But the shooting side was letting him down by dropping out, and that was disappointing.

In truth, it is more than an argument. There is a battle going on for the very survival of the uplands as we know them, and the stakes are as high as they get for many of the species. If the management of heather moorland is decided on high by those who have little understanding of the consequences, then an already precarious future will become a disastrous certainty.

At best, our uplands are a patchwork of interconnected habitats that suit a diverse range of species. At worst, a monoculture solely concerned with the needs of a few. It's not all about grouse; it's not all about nesting curlew or lapwing; it's not all about short-eared owls or hen harriers; it's not all about human economic production and the communities in which they live. All those elements must be included in our attempt to foster a rich and varied environment.