2024 was a year that demanded reflection—on loss, resilience, and the enduring connections between humanity and the natural world. It was a year that tested our resolve to protect what is irreplaceable, but also one that offered glimmers of hope through collective action and stories of recovery.
In my writing, I often grappled with the fragility of life—both human and non-human—and the profound responsibility we bear in safeguarding the planet’s biodiversity. From the mournful tones of an obituary for the vaquita to a heartfelt letter to my three-year-old daughter about the peril of the Sumatran rhino, each piece was an attempt to bridge the emotional and the factual, to honor the losses while rallying for change.
The extinction crisis loomed large in 2024, as species like the slender-billed curlew and vaquita teetered on the edge or disappeared entirely. These stories are not just about vanishing creatures; they are about what their absence signals for ecosystems and humanity. Each loss is a tear in the intricate web of life that sustains us all. Yet, even in the shadow of despair, there was room for action. My writing called for urgent, tangible steps to prevent further loss, emphasizing that extinction is a choice we still have the power to reject.
Hope emerged as a recurring theme—not as blind optimism but as a deliberate, informed belief in the possibility of change. Stories like the astonishing recovery of mountain gorillas demonstrated that conservation, when fueled by determination and collaboration, can yield remarkable results. Similarly, the resilience of ecosystems and the people who fight for them offered a counterbalance to narratives of despair.
I reflected on 25 years of running Mongabay, sharing lessons that shaped our approach to journalism. Among these were the importance of humility, recognizing the role of luck, and modeling values that foster trust and collaboration. Transparency, respect, and persistence were recurring touchstones in these reflections, guiding not just our work but our relationships with contributors, audiences, and the communities we cover.
The year also brought moments of profound gratitude. Jane Goodall’s acknowledgment of Mongabay as a trusted source for truth underscored the importance of journalism in a time of crisis. Her call to “Vote for Nature” resonated deeply, amplifying a message that conservation and civic action are inseparable. Through her words and presence, she reminded us of the stakes and the power of collective effort.
At its core, 2024 was about connection—to nature, to each other, and to the larger purpose of ensuring a livable planet. The obituaries I prepared for species like the vaquita and slender-billed curlew were not just memorials but calls to action. They asked readers to consider what it means to live in a world diminished by our inaction and what it might take to reverse course.
I also explored the ethical dimensions of storytelling. Journalism, I argued, must avoid being extractive. It should not only inform but also uplift the communities it covers. Initiatives like Mongabay’s Indigenous News Desk and Fellowship programs reflected this ethos, striving to create narratives that are both accurate and empowering.
The fight for biodiversity was not limited to species alone. It extended to the protection of cultural and ecological knowledge. The role of Indigenous peoples and local communities emerged as a critical thread, highlighting their stewardship of lands that serve as refuges for endangered species. From the Queñua forests of the Andes to the rainforests of Borneo, these narratives emphasized that conservation is as much about people as it is about nature.
2024 also underscored the power of investigative journalism to drive real-world change. Stories about illegal shark finning, timber laundering, and deforestation exposed the mechanisms of environmental harm and held perpetrators accountable. These investigations were a testament to the impact of persistence, collaboration, and evidence-based reporting.
Through it all, I sought to inspire a sense of agency. Whether writing about the role of elder animals in ecosystems or the intricate connections between biodiversity and human well-being, my aim was to show that individual and collective actions matter. Conservation is not an abstract ideal; it is a series of choices made every day, by each of us.
As 2024 drew to a close, I found myself reflecting on the resilience of nature and the human spirit. From the towering coast redwoods to the jaguars of the Americas, the year’s stories were reminders of what is at stake and what remains possible. They called on us to act, not out of fear, but out of love for the intricate, wondrous world we are privileged to inhabit.
The future is unwritten, but 2024 showed that the path forward depends on our capacity to care, to adapt, and to persist. It is a future worth fighting for, and one that I hope my writing helped illuminate.
