This spring, two black bears wandered down from the Santa Ynez Mountains above Santa Barbara, California. One lumbered across the manicured lawns and paths of the University of California at Santa Barbara (UCSB) campus, which is perched on the bluffs above the Pacific Ocean. Seemingly bewildered by gawking students and flashing police lights from officers called to the scene, the bear climbed up a small tree. Authorities then blasted sirens to haze it off campus.

In the weeks that followed, a black bear — possibly the same one — was struck and killed by a vehicle about 15 miles down the coast. Another was seen roaming Santa Barbara’s beaches and neighborhoods, either lost or curious about what suburban life could offer. Black bears — extinct in Southern California for thousands of years until re-introduced in the early 1930s — now abound.

The same cannot be said for California’s official state mascot, the grizzly bear, which roams over a patch of green under a red star on every California flag. Before the Gold Rush, there were about 10,000 grizzlies in the state, including many in the mountains near Santa Barbara, but the species was hunted and trapped to extinction by the 1920s. Now a team of UCSB researchers is investigating whether, as black bears did in Southern California, the grizzly could make a comeback in the Golden State. In a new feasibility study, published earlier this year, they explore what reintroduction might entail and highlight three regions in California where grizzlies would have a chance of a future.

The grizzly bears’ range once extended over much of North America. While about 60,000 grizzlies, also known as brown bears or Ursus arctos, still live on the continent, 97 percent of that population is concentrated in Alaska and British Columbia, Canada. With its population and range drastically diminished, the grizzly was officially listed as threatened under the Endangered Species Act in 1975. In 1982, the US Fish and Wildlife Service (USFWS) designated six recovery zones in Montana, Wyoming, Idaho, and Washington, which either had remnant populations or were recent grizzly habitat. Since then, the grizzly population in the Lower 48 has doubled. USFWS considered the Sierra Nevada mountain range in California as potential habitat but ultimately did not include it as a designated recovery zone, citing the numerous roads in the region as a deterrent.

A week before the black bear made its appearance at UCSB, I spoke with Peter Alagona, an environmental studies and history professor at the university and one of the lead authors of the 2025 feasibility study, Recovering Grizzly Bears in California. Alagona first began studying the history of California grizzlies 15 years ago. At that time, little had been written about California grizzlies for nearly a half century. “The prevailing opinion was that extinction was inevitable and recovery was impossible. It took me a while to embrace a different story — that extinction is not inevitable, and that the species can be brought back,” he said. “We want people to realize it isn’t just a wild idea.”

In 2016, he formed UCSB’s California Grizzly Study Group to gather data about the grizzly’s natural history. The group included specialists and graduate students in geography, genomics, political science, ecology, and zoology. More recently, Alagona established the California Grizzly Alliance to advocate for the grizzly’s return, pointing to the ecological benefits, including ecosystem engineering, as well as the cultural benefits of their recovery. This network, which backed the study, combines academics along with representatives from the nonprofit Center for Biological Diversity, the outdoor equipment retailer Patagonia, and the Tejon Indian Tribe.

Alagona says that California has the terrain and food resources to sustain a healthy grizzly population, and based on grizzly population densities in other areas, he and his coauthors assert that California’s backcountry offers suitable habitat for about 1,100 grizzlies. In their study, they suggest the best way to reintroduce the species and ensure its survival, while minimizing conflicts with humans, is to establish small populations that have a preponderance of young females who are likely to stay near release sites to breed and raise cubs.

The study proposes three potential areas in California that could offer rich terrain for grizzlies and room for a small population while curtailing human interaction. The first is the state’s northwest forest, which includes the redwoods of Klamath National Forest, as well as the mixed woodlands of Trinity, and Shasta National Forests. The second area is the 400-plus-mile Sierra Nevada range; and the third is the Transverse Ranges that run east to west and stretch from the Mojave Desert to the foothills above Santa Barbara. Ideally, a wildlife corridor of natural habitat would connect the Sierras with the Transverse Ranges.

The report also digs into the ecological benefits. Grizzly bear droppings, for example, help distribute plant life, and the animal’s long claws, used to dig for roots and tubers, aerate the soil. With its bulk and power, the grizzly opens new trails for other game and flora. In the long term, a re-established grizzly population might suppress the number of black bears, which have become a challenge in some California mountain towns.

The cultural benefits, too, cannot be overlooked. The Tejon people of central California, who coexisted with grizzlies for millennia, have longstanding cultural and spiritual ties to the bears. As Tejon Tribe Chairman Octavio Escobedo III notes in the forward to the feasibility study, “In the Tejon worldview, Hunaet [the grizzly] was here even before us — before the sun first illuminated our homelands…. Our ancestors understood the grizzly, possessing deep knowledge, passed down since time immemorial, of how to coexist with the bear.”

Numerous other North American Native tribes are among the grizzly’s staunch supporters. In 2016, when the US government considered removing the grizzly’s protected status in Yellowstone National Park to open the door to hunting, members of more than 170 North American tribal groups signed The Grizzly: A Treaty of Cooperation, Cultural Revitalization, and Restoration to protect what they regard as a sacred animal.

Despite the rewards, reintroduction will not be straightforward. “The main challenges are not ecological but social and cultural,” Alagona says.

Those challenges include concerns about human–grizzly conflicts. Like the black bear, the grizzly has an incredible sense of smell, and given an option, may choose the easiest calories available. While conflict can flare up over livestock and unsecured food and trash, research has shown that unprovoked attacks are rare. Despite the grizzly’s great size, strength, and potential ferocity, its diet — unlike that of other large predators such as mountain lions — is 70 percent plants. Fully grown versions of these omnivores eat nearly 90 pounds of vegetation per day, and could be thought of as apex consumers rather than apex predators. The Grizzly Alliance report states that grizzlies, like mountain lions, “studiously avoid” human settlements, preferring higher elevations and natural food sources. Alagona notes that over the past 50 years, bears have been responsible for only 1.5 human deaths per year in North America. This is 20 times less than deaths from lightning strikes or dog attacks.

The new study argues that what risk there is could be minimized with proper funding, management, town halls in affected areas, and additional public education about how to avoid conflict — especially around securing garbage and food.

Not everyone is convinced. Peter Tira, an information officer with the California Department of Fish and Wildlife, expressed doubt about the prospects for bringing back the large bears, noting that the state’s human population has grown immensely since grizzlies last roamed. Tira points out that male grizzlies in particular are prone to long-distance wandering. Reintroduction would almost certainly lead to bear deaths on highways, and interactions that could mean human injuries or bear eradication. “We might be setting them up for failure,” Tira says.

Tira argues that remote areas simply don’t exist anymore in California, and that his department lacks the resources to educate the public and manage yet another wild animal population. (The Grizzly Alliance study estimates that $3 million per year could fund a successful recovery program.) Tira adds that his department doesn’t dictate policy, but rather takes its lead from the state legislature, the governor, and the people of California. “We’re open to this conversation, but it will be a tough sell.”

Compounding existing fears are news reports of black bears breaking into garages, automobiles, and refrigerators, and trashing homes in California mountain communities such as Lake Tahoe and Mammoth Lakes. In 2023, a black bear killed and partially ate an elderly woman in Downieville — a small town 70 miles northwest of Lake Tahoe. This was the first human fatality ever associated with a black bear attack in California.

When asked about the dangers such powerful animals might pose, Alagona says, “They need respect,” but he adds that he also worries about simply “talking about risks and benefits.” Human convenience is not the sole consideration, he says, noting that “grizzlies are animals with their own culture, ways of caring for their young, and intelligence.”

“The reality is both [black bears and grizzlies] are dang smart and clever,” adds biologist Kyle Garrett, who has managed human-bear conflicts in California and in states with grizzlies. This could lead to clashes. “No matter what happens, you will have happy and angry people,” Garrett says.

While the reintroduction may not be frictionless, members of the Grizzly Alliance believe the rewards would be immense. In an era of mass extinctions, helping this keystone species return to former habitat could shift our perception of the natural world. “In conservation, there’s something of an attitude that big things are impossible these days,” Alagona notes. “I think restoring the grizzlies could provide an intangible source of inspiration.”

An earlier version of this article misidentified the Tejon Tribe Chairman. We regret the error.