The rise of Soft Outdoor

As the Outdoor market continues forward on an ever-expanding trajectory known as "lifestyle," people are understandably a little edgy as they try to keep things in focus.

The backdrop for Outdoor Lifestyle's growth is comprised of some big numbers. Really big.  In a recent study for this widely recognized $646 billion market, “Outdoor” folks now include more than 60% of American consumers -- people living mainly in cities, being mainly in their younger years, and spending at least an hour a week and $450 a year on outdoorsy stuff (LINK).

As with all Outdoor data, the most recent study relies heavily on the market's historic affinity for measuring itself agains the yardstick of the activities it supports. The report leads with dozens of “Traditional” core market metrics like camping, canoeing and climbing, but also factors in a boatload of “Non-traditional” pastimes like walking, picnicking and simply chilling outside.

In this widening pool of data sources, the clear takeaway is that the biggest sustained growth in Outdoor is in the definition of what "outdoor" actually means. And the clear challenge is using that knowledge to forge a path through an often blurry Lifestyle landscape.

Because in the new Soft Outdoors, there is no true center, no easy-to-explain hub of activity, no silver bullet that will make everything good and right at the retail counter. Soft Outdoor sees Traditional and Non Traditional activities as true equals, because at the cash register there’s no difference at all between a badass whitewater paddler and a once-a-year beach reader.

Understandably, Soft Outdoors is causing some stress on the micro level, as staying one-step ahead of a practically unlimited pool of outdoor activities is kind of like running a 100-yard dash without knowing which direction to go or when to start. 

Soft Outdoors is also unsettling for some on the macro level. An increasingly vague definition of Outdoor could easily be seen as setting the stage for assimilation by a broader market controlled by fewer brands with deeper pockets: a price-first place where people don’t really care if the logo on their chest is representative of a group that sacrifices annual profits to conserve gazillions of acres of land for their grandchildren's outdoor access. They just like the way it looks when they’re wearing jeans.  

Fortunately, there's another group for whom Soft Outdoor is very, very good news:  active brands.

As Outdoor has widened and breakthroughs have been diluted by sheer Lifestyle volume, active brands have replaced innovation as the number one thing marketers are telling stories about. With words and images, personalities and partnerships, these rising brands have become the axis around which the outdoor world spins.

Consider a list of the 100+ short-sleeved button-front shirt brands in the Outdoor market. While differences may be laughably indistinct from across the trailhead -- at a brand level there’s more than enough nuance to fill the closet for you and everybody you know with a unique and distinct personality for every day of the week. There's the yoga brand. And the environmentalist. The badass Vancouver. The Montana fly fisher. The quirky New Zealander. The Santa Barbara creative. The Jackson Hole local. The Truckee dirtbag. The Upper Midwest made-in-America. The Seattle fun-hog. The Texan.  And plenty more.

With $100 small brand shirts thriving right next to REI plaids at half the price, there's clearly an audience out there that's far more concerned with the label than the price tag.  

These plaid shirt brands -- as well as other Outdoor Lifestyle success stories -- are the ones that hold the future of Outdoor Industry in their hands. They're the ones bringing in new converts to Soft Outdoor. They're the ones satisfying the cravings of their devoted fans. They're the the ones who are defining the Outdoor Lifestyle, not just by what they make but by how they live. 

Because while things like contrast pockets and ombre plaids are all-to-easy to knock off for a mega brand looking for a line extension in a hot market, one thing that can never be replicated is outdoor culture.  And an Outdoor market without an outdoor soul is just another room full of people selling plaid. 

Land hurts: Why the LWCF matters

One of the formative tales in outdoor culture is the origin story of the Conservation Alliance, when four iconic companies (Kelty, The North Face, Patagonia and REI) gathered together – very likely all sporting their mid-1980s short shorts, cateye Vuarnets and mink-oiled wafflestompers – and penned a single-minded charter. The idea was to create a streamlined organization that pooled resources to protect wild places where people play, that kept things lean, and that gave their funds straight to the people working on conservation’s front line. 

As the story goes, the foursome decided to make their annual membership contribution a big one – $10k a year each, right out of the gate – because “it needed to hurt” to remind them all of the importance of their shared mission.

Inside the outdoor industry, that idea of "hurt" has been a popular one, spawning an Alliance that now includes 190 members and an expected giving budget of $1.6 million in the coming year. To support that effort, each of those member companies makes an annual contribution that is sizable enough to make a small bruise, yet essential enough that the check gets written without complaint.

Outside the outdoor industry, as card-carrying members of the good old US of A, we’ve got it way easier. Since 1965, we’ve had a heftly pool of money wrapped up with a bow and placed at our feet. A federal conservation piggybank known as the Land and Water Conservation Fund, this porcelain change jar fills itself each year by carving out a tiny percentage of federal leases paid by offshore oil and gas drilling operations. You get to drill and make a ton of money, we get to set aside some land.

Quietly and painlessly funding itself over the last last 50 years, the LWCF has funded $16.8 billion of postcard-worthy success stories like Grand Canyon National Park, the Appalachian National Scenic Trail, the White Mountain National Forest, and Pelican Island National Wildlife Refuge, the nation’s first federal refuge. 

The fund works on the federal side by buying stuff (through agencies like the National Park Service, the US Forest Service, the Fish and Wildlife Service and the Bureau of Land Management), and on the state and local side by evenly distributing grants for parks, land preservation and easements. Chances are, your favorite outdoor place was paid for with an LWCF check. 

Unfortunately, the LWCF turns into a pumpkin this September when its original 50-year charter expires. Even more unfortunate is the political climate that will surround it when it hits the floor of the Capitol.

The good news is that this obviously integral and simple mechanism only needs Congress to come together, unite behind it, and reauthorize it. The bad news is that this obviously integral and simple mechanism only needs Congress to come together, unite behind it, and reauthorize it.

“The good news is that this obviously integral and simple mechanism only needs Congress to come together, unite behind it, and reauthorize it. The bad news is that this obviously integral and simple mechanism only needs Congress to come together, unite behind it, and reauthorize it.”

During the Outdoor Industry Association lobbying event last May in Washington, DC, reauthorizing the LWCF was at the top of its very short Congressional wish list. And while it was a clear slam dunk -- barely worth talking about -- for some members of Congress, it was clearly not clear at all to other Congresspeople who seemed fond of the term "restructuring."

No doubt, this is a decision about money ... about the $900 million dollars a year that comes out of the pocket of oil and gas companies, and often goes to the preservation and protection of other public lands from just that kind of drilling.

Pitting conservation interests versus oil and gas interests is a fight that few have the stomach to pick.  People like cheap gas, love driving, and have all but forgotten that Al Gore was a filmmaker.  In a modern world fueled by fuel, drawing a line in the sand across from the oil and gas crowd is a half-step away from picking a fight with oxygen. And yet, there’s more than enough room between “not here, not now, not ever” and “anywhere, anytime” to make a legitimate stand.

The LWCF is essential not merely because of its effectiveness as a funding mechanism, but also because it is the banner holder for the whole idea of public land – land funded by the government and preserved in a way in which everyone has a stake, everyone gets a benefit, and has a say. 

Flipping the pancake over, the other side is far darker. Failure of the LWCF would be clearly devastating to private conservation groups, whose work relies hugely on matching grants from the fund (as just one example, from 2007 to 2013, Conservation Alliance projects received more than $99 million from the LWCF).

Perhaps more devastating, failure of the LWCF to live beyond September would also effectively take the idea of proactive public land conservation and cut it off at the knees.

At this point, there’s a lot that can be done. There’s educating, there’s active legislation that can be supported, and there’s the all important reckoning that it's gonna have to hurt a little to remind us all how important this really is.

LINK: The Conservation Alliance weighs in on the LWCF

LINK: Contacting the Congress

LINK: LWCF Coalition