On a brisk Highland morning, the first light slid over peat-silenced moorland and ancient Scots pines, and with it came a sense of change — for the land, for the wildlife, and for the people who steward it.
In Scotland, a long-awaited piece of legislation is shifting the ground under our feet and beneath our feet, as much as over the hills.
The newly passed Wildlife Management and Muirburn (Scotland) Act 2024 — formerly the Bill discussed in the article you provided — is not simply another environmental law.
It is built on years of painstaking analysis, grassroots activism, and the demands of a public that increasingly sees nature not as a backdrop but as an active part of its future.
The article from the Scottish Greens heralds it as “a momentous step forward for our landscapes and nature and in bringing Scotland’s wildlife management into the 21st century.”
And in that simple phrase—bringing Scotland’s wildlife management into the 21st century—lies both the promise and the urgency. Because Scotland’s nature, for all its rugged beauty, has been in decline.
A Nature In Crisis, And A Nation Waking Up
For decades, conservationists have warned that Scotland’s ecosystems were being stretched to breaking point. As RSPB Scotland observed in early 2025: one in nine species in Scotland is at risk of national extinction, and the country ranks among the most “nature-depleted” in the world.
At the same time, outdated land-management practices persisted: uncontrolled muirburn (the managed burning of moorland heather), snares and glue traps still in use, and a deer population that now exceeds a million, grazing and suppressing natural woodland regeneration.
Against that backdrop, the legislation becomes more than a list of rules; it becomes a statement of values. The Greens’ article highlights key measures: “tougher restrictions on the use of inhumane wildlife traps … a full ban on snares … restrictions on muirburn.”
What does this feel like on the ground? Picture a stalker pausing — not only to monitor grouse but to count the number of curlews returning to a cliff ledge, the way a teacher counts returning children to class.
A forest manager standing in a newly planted native woodland and imagining the deer that will no longer trample the saplings before they become trees.
A wildlife crime investigator, given new tools and a clearer legal path by which to pursue offenders. These are human stories embedded in the legislation.
From Bill To Living Landscape
Let’s walk through some of the main changes, with an eye not just on policy but on their human and ecological implications.
Ban On Snares And Stronger Trapping Regulations
The Act introduces a licensing scheme for certain traps that previously were lightly regulated — including requirements for training and tagging. For rural communities, this means change in how gamekeeping and land-management traditions operate.
It won’t be easy: as the British Association for Shooting and Conservation (BASC) noted, some deer-management interests feel burdensome training and licensing might reduce the number of stalkers, at a time when they say more are needed.
But for wildlife advocates, the measure offers the chance to end long-standing loopholes in illegal predator control.
Muirburn Licensing And Updated Moorland Management
The Act brings muirburn firmly into licensing territory: for the first time, land managers must obtain permission to burn heather outside of tightly controlled windows and especially on peatland, recognising the climate-role peat plays. For the hill-farmer, shepherd or estate worker, this is a seismic change in practice — but for nature it is a lifeline. Peatlands store carbon, harbour unique species and act as living memories of thousands of years of landscapes.
Tackling Deer Over-Grazing And Woodland Regeneration
Though this Act deals primarily with wildlife and land-management practices, it links to the broader forthcoming Natural Environment (Scotland) Bill, introduced in February 2025 and likely to demand legally binding nature-recovery targets including better deer-management.
RSPB Scotland notes that deer numbers have doubled in 30 years and are damaging peatland and preventing native woodland from regenerating. The Act lays groundwork for future interventions.
New Enforcement, New Hope
Perhaps most quietly profound is the strengthening of inspectors’ powers, the tagging of traps, new codes of practice for land-owners, and the involvement of welfare organisations like the Scottish Society for Prevention of Cruelty to Animals (SSPCA) in wildlife-crime detection. When the law gives tools to the people doing the work every day, the culture of consequence begins to shift.
Voices Of Hope And Challenge
In the corridors of the Scottish Parliament, some were jubilant. Green MSP Ariane Burgess said: “This is a momentous step forward … standards that our country has for wildlife and their habitats.”
Meanwhile, rural voices sounded cautious: for some estate-managers the fear is that blanket regulation may overlook local nuance; for some stalkers, that training requirements and licences could reduce flexibility.
Nature Scots – the country’s conservation agency – has noted that laws are only as strong as their delivery. As one of their senior figures said: “The rate of nature loss in Scotland over recent decades is deeply concerning … legal targets will not have the success we want to see unless they are underpinned by action and investment.”
So the story is not only of legislation but of partnership — government, estates, conservation organisations, local communities and land-workers all standing at the same threshold. What happens next will decide if this moment becomes momentum.
What This Means For Scotland’s Future
Imagine this: the peat moss, instead of being compacted and drained, begins to breathe again. Ground-nesting birds, long silent in the glens, return in flickering numbers.
Native woodlands, scarred by decades of deer grazing, begin to grow upward once more. Communities who live with the land for generations begin to feel that the landscape they inherit is richer for the next generation, not poorer.
The Act doesn’t promise to fix everything overnight. It asks for patience, investment, adaptation and reflection — but it asks something else, too: a collective belief that nature matters, deeply and immediately.
The legislation becomes a mirror of what Scotland values, what kind of home it wants to be for wildlife and people alike.
And for people who walk those hills, work those estates, watch the skies for eagles and osprey, it changes the way they mirror the land: no longer only as a resource, but as a co-inhabitant.
The Path Ahead
Of course, challenges remain. Implementation will require funding, clear targets, and cooperation across sectors. Some rural stakeholders fear the law may inadvertently stifle tradition; conservationists caution that without robust metrics the Act risks being “law on paper” only.
For example, the Natural Environment Bill is powerful in draft, yet still needs to fill in the detail of what “legally binding nature-recovery targets” will look like and how they will be enforced.
And yet — in politics as in nature, it is the subtle shifts that build into big change. This legislation provides a hinge point: a pivot from “nature-managing” to “nature-recovering.”
Conclusion — And An Invitation
So here is Scotland at a threshold. With law in hand and timber-fresh ambition in the air, this country has chosen to ask not only how we manage land but why. And when “why” leads with respect, curiosity and hope, landscapes begin to shift.
For those who live in Scotland’s glens and by its shores, for every hill-walker, moor-stalker, game-keeper, and biodiversity-lover, this is a moment to lean in. Observe what changes, ask questions of what doesn’t, and nurture the vision of wildness returning.
Because the real victory will not be a statute. It will be the sound of a raptor returning, the first sapling of a native Scots pine surviving deer browse, the drum of life in a peat bog breathing back. It will be the interwoven story of land, nature and people.
And if there is a lesson for the rest of the world, it is this: when we legislate with heart and account for the future of all species — including our own — hope can take root and grow.
Sources:
Scottish Greens
Cieem
Parliament
