It’s been a rough few weeks for those who care about the fate of the planet, the wellbeing of others, and the health of the information ecosystem. In moments like these, it’s easy to feel overwhelmed—to wonder whether the effort is worth it, whether the tide of setbacks is too strong to push against.
This post isn’t going to change that. I recognize that words on a screen don’t do much if you’ve lost your job or community, if funding for your project or organization has been cut, or if you’ve become the target of personal attacks. It can be devastating, demoralizing, even paralyzing. But resilience isn’t about grand gestures; it’s about what we choose to do next.
Resilience isn’t just about endurance—it’s about adaptation. Nature shows us this again and again. In places where we assumed life was gone forever—Chernobyl, Bikini Atoll, and Ujung Kulon—wildlife has returned, not because destruction is acceptable, but because recovery is possible when given a chance.
We should take our cue from that. When the path forward looks bleak, when solutions seem out of reach, it’s not a signal to stop—it’s a call to think differently, to shift strategies, to find new ways forward.
Conservation isn’t just about preventing loss. It’s about rebuilding what’s been broken. And the same goes for movements, for institutions, for hope itself.
The work we do today won’t undo all the damage. But it can shape the landscapes of tomorrow. And that’s reason enough to keep going.
