A landscape can look untouched because the hands that shaped it are no longer recognized.

A landscape can look wild because the shaping is old enough to be invisible. Cleared woodland, managed grazing, controlled burns, drained ground: generations of work absorbed into scenery, then admired as untouched by people who no longer recognise the hands involved. The absence of visible labour reads as the absence of labour.

The habit transfers. Anything that works smoothly tends to look like it was always that way, whether it is a household, an institution, or a piece of infrastructure. Ask who maintains what you are enjoying. Recognition costs nothing, and the work usually becomes visible only when it stops.