Seite - 286 - in Biodiversity and Health in the Face of Climate Change

286 steep slopes, on relatively unfertile soils and far away from cities and productive agricultural land (Pressey et  al. 2002; Joppa and Pfaff 2009). Typically, the human population density is low in these areas and, as such, they are shielded from use by people by default. Indeed, the physical distance between human settlements and the location of protected areas can impose a substantial barrier to their recreational use (Kareiva 2008). Protected areas that are close to or within towns and cities tend to be smaller, more fragmented and in poorer ecological condition than those in remote locations (Jones et  al. 2018). Second, there has been a growing emphasis in recent years on proactive conser- vation strategies, such as those that aim to safeguard the last of the world’s major wilderness areas (Sanderson et  al. 2002; Mittermeier et  al. 2003; Watson et  al. 2017). This is based on the recognition that the predominant threats to biodiversity spread contagiously across landscapes (Boakes et  al. 2010), suggesting that if an area can be protected while it is still intact, the risk of eventual habitat clearance or degradation is much lower (Klein et  al. 2009). By definition, the absence of a high density of people, and the pressure they bring to bear on landscapes, is a key com- ponent of wilderness quality (Venter et  al. 2016), thus further building a case for protected area designation in places away from human settlements. Finally, there is often tension among management agencies about permitting rec- reation inside protected areas that have been designated for biodiversity conserva- tion, with many viewing the two things as incompatible and preferring that people are actively excluded (Smith 2013). A prime example of this is mountain biking where, arguably, the impact on biodiversity is usually minimal, but is perceived as being much greater by managers and other types of green space user (Hardiman and Burgin 2013). A further complicating factor is that funds for managing protected areas for recreation are often derived from different sources to those centred on biodiversity (Miller et  al. 2009). This means that interagency cooperation might be needed to effectively provide facilities for human use, or zoning configurations that minimise recreational pressures (Stigner et  al. 2016). This can require substantial investment to deliver and be complex to achieve. In spite of the historical bias where most protected areas are located away from regions of intense human activity, there is some evidence that new protected areas are now being established in closer proximity to towns and cities. Global biodiver- sity targets mandate protecting threatened species and landscapes that currently lack formal designation (Butchart et  al. 2015), and many of the remaining high conserva- tion value areas occur in fragmented landscapes nearer to human settlements (Brooks et  al. 2006; McDonald et  al. 2008). For example, recently established Australian protected areas are being preferentially sited in places with high human population density and large numbers of threatened species (Barr et  al. 2016). Likewise, 32 cities within the European Union contain Natura 2000 sites (ten Brink et  al. 2016). Some protected areas have successfully integrated human health and well-being objectives into their remit more proactively. For instance, Secovlje Salina Nature Park in Slovenia hosts the Lepa Vida Spa, which has generated jobs and income in both the tourism and health sectors. In turn, this has provided better public access to Z. G. Davies et al.