Beyond Carbon and Hectares: The Human Heart of Climate Action

For more than twenty-five years working in conservation and climate action across Latin America and Asia, one truth has become increasingly clear to me: sustainability is not achieved through technical design alone, it is built through trust, inclusion, and the ability of people to see themselves as co-owners of the solutions that shape their future. I have led strategies for REDD+ type projects, biodiversity conservation, and community resilience in some of the world’s most critical ecosystems, from the Amazon and the Chocó to climate-vulnerable landscapes in Latin America and Asia. Yet despite the diversity of geographies and cultures, the success or failure of every initiative has always hinged on one factor: how deeply it connects with the people who live in those territories.

We tend to think of environmental projects in terms of metrics, tons of CO₂ avoided, hectares restored, species protected. These are important outcomes, but they tell only part of the story. What truly determines whether a conservation effort endures is the strength of the social fabric behind it. When communities are engaged not as beneficiaries but as decision-makers; when women, Indigenous groups, youth, and local leaders shape the vision of a project from its inception; when people see tangible improvements in their well-being and dignity, only then do conservation and climate actions become transformative and lasting.

One of the most powerful lessons I have learned is that participation is not a workshop, a consultation, or a checkbox. It is a system of governance. It is the act of recognizing that local knowledge is not supplementary, it is foundational. In every successful project I have facilitated, the turning point came when communities stopped seeing conservation as something being done to them and started claiming it as something they were leading. Consent, when free, prior, and informed, is not just a safeguard mechanism, it is the birth of collective ownership.

Another key insight is that monitoring and evaluation must go beyond reporting numbers to donors. Good monitoring tells a story: it reveals how behaviors are changing, how governance structures are strengthening, how benefits are being distributed fairly, and how ecosystems are recovering in ways that support human well-being. The most meaningful indicators are those that illuminate whether a project is shifting power, restoring agency, and creating pathways for economic and social resilience.

Over the years, whether as Regional Head of Conservation for BirdLife International, Director of Water Programs at Rare, or Community Strategy Director for Permian Global, I have repeatedly seen that technical excellence is not enough. The environmental challenges we face today, climate instability, biodiversity loss, and inequity, are complex and deeply human. This means our leadership models must evolve. Today, leading conservation initiatives requires emotional intelligence, cultural respect, gender sensitivity, conflict mediation, and the ability to hold long-term visions while navigating short-term pressures. It requires not only strategic planning, but also care.

Across every project I have supported, I have seen that when local people feel seen, respected, and empowered, the results go far beyond conservation, they catalyze new models of governance, local economies, and community identity. In Ecuador, Colombia, Mexico, Brazil, Malaysia, and beyond, I have witnessed communities become guardians of their landscapes when they are trusted as partners. I have also seen projects with extraordinary funding and scientific backing fail because they overlooked the human heart of conservation.

Today, as we enter a new era of climate finance, carbon markets, and nature-based solutions, we are presented with both a tremendous opportunity and a significant ethical responsibility. We must ensure that these mechanisms do not replicate extractive models under the language of sustainability, but instead become vehicles for equity and regeneration. The future of conservation will be determined not only by how much carbon we can sequester or how many species we can protect, but by how well we can integrate ecological integrity with social justice.

After a lifetime dedicated to this work, my purpose is clear: to ensure that conservation is not only about protecting nature, but about transforming lives. To support models where climate action strengthens local governance, restores ecosystems, and enhances human dignity. Where projects are not temporary interventions, but legacies of resilience that communities can carry forward for generations.

Conservation is ultimately an expression of care, care for the land, for the people, and for the future. When we center that care in everything we design and implement, sustainability stops being a goal and becomes a way of life.