Provoke, Don’t Preach: Freeman Tilden’s Interpreting Our Heritage

If you love the outdoors, chances are you’ve got a mental list of influential figures. John Muir, who insisted mountains have “rapt, religious consciousness;” Teddy Roosevelt, the “conservation president,” who doubled the number of National Parks in existed at the time of his presidency; Aldo Leopold, a leading advocate for ethical land use and wilderness conservation; Ernest Shackleton, who redefined “roughing it;” and Ernest Thompson Seton and Ansel Adams, whose art makes us want to pack our bags and walk into their images.

There’s one name that is just as influential as those above – arguably more than some if you’ve worked in parks, museums, or historic sites – but far less likely to come up in casual conversation: Freeman Tilden.

Outside the world of interpretation, his name may get a polite nod and a glimmer of recognition. Inside it? Tilden is often referred to as the “father of interpretation,” and his influence echoes throughout national parks, historic homes, museums, and campfire discussions across the country. If you’ve ever left a site feeling something – inspired, unsettled, curious, protective – you can probably trace the feeling back to him.

His book, Interpreting Our Heritage, was first published in 1957, but has refused to become irrelevant. As Theresa G. Coble puts it, the book continues to “ensure that future generations have abundant opportunities to connect to the meanings and significance of the special places for which we all serve as stewards.” Not bad for a non-fiction book that’s nearly 70.

So, what is interpretation anyway? It certainly is not just about talking at people. According to The Handbook for Interpretive Guides, “Interpretation is any communication process which aims to reveal meanings and relationships through first-hand experience with objects, artifacts, landscapes, or sites.” In other words, interpretation is the difference between telling people the what, but rather the why it matters. 

Early in Interpreting Our Heritage, Tilden gives us his six principles of interpretation. They’re often quoted, paraphrased, simplified, and rehearsed in training weeks everywhere – with good reason! 

In simple terms, they boil down to this:

1. Make it personal

If what you’re interpreting doesn’t connect to something in the visitor’s own life, it runs the risk of feeling sterile. People don’t tend to remember dates, but they will remember how something made them feel.

2. Facts aren’t enough

Information alone isn’t interpretation! Interpretation uses facts to reveal meaning. Google can give you data. Interpretation gives understanding.

3. It’s an art

Interpretation is creative! It blends storytelling, performance, design, history, science – you name it. And like any art, it’s teachable and can be improved upon.

4. Provoke, don’t preach

The goal isn’t instruction; it’s provocation. Good interpretation doesn’t tell you what to think, it says, “Have you ever considered…”

5. Show the big picture

Interpretation should present a whole idea and speak to the whole person – intellectually, emotionally, even spiritually. Humans are complicated, and so is history.

6. Kids are a different breed

Interpretation for children shouldn’t be a watered-down adult program. Children are fundamentally different, so their program should be just as thoughtful as the adults’. 

Simple? Yes. Easy to execute? Not always.

One concept that pairs beautifully with Tilden’s ideas is verisimilitude – the appearance or semblance of truth (Baskin Robbins has Flavor of the Month – I have Word of the Week. This one might be worth 5/5 points). It’s what allows us to accept a story as authentic within its own rules, even if it’s a little fantastical.

In interpretation, verisimilitude is everything. Visitors don’t need perfection – they need believability. They need to trust that what they’re experiencing feels real enough to matter.

That’s why “showroom” clean historic houses can often feel sterile or hollow, and why the splash against a washboard or smell of a forge can transport someone through time. Verisimilitude helps bridge the gap between past and present. It says, “Yeah, people back then weren’t much different from you.”

One of the most refreshing – and challenging – ideas tied to Tilden’s philosophy is resisting “preachy” interpretation and romanticized history. Not everything needs to be heroic and grandiose. Really, most of history wasn’t. 

Good first-person interpretation embraces the mundane. Wash your clothes with a washboard (save money at the laundromat!), cook dinner outside, make adobe bricks. Do the boring, repetitive, and admittedly occasionally miserable daily tasks. Live life as people actually lived it – there’s no Instagram algorithm to impress. That’s where connection happens! Visitors don’t need history to be shiny, they need it to be human. 

Tilden believed people are intrinsically connected to nature. He believed interpretation should inspire reflection, not dictate conclusions. He believed that interpretation could change how people care. 

Nearly 70 years later, his belief holds up. In a world where we are so often overloaded by information, interpretation reminds us that meaning matters and adds that je ne sais quoi to fact. Stories need authenticity – that verisimilitude – to create understanding. When people understand something, they are far more likely to protect it. Not bad for a guy whose name outside the field oftentimes isn’t recognized. 

I leave you with a quote from the father of interpretation himself:

“Through interpretation, understanding; through understanding, appreciation; through appreciation, protection.”

Mountain Girl