Ivy Kinyua (ELP 2024) | Senior Research Associate (Policies and Institutions for Climate Action), Alliance of Bioversity International & International Center for Tropical Agriculture (CIAT), Kenya

Nowadays, environmental headlines often read more like warnings than victories and for good reason. 

In 2023, scientists confirmed that we have transgressed six of the nine planetary boundaries: the thresholds that keep Earth stable and safe for human life. These include climate change, biodiversity loss, land-system change, biogeochemical flows (like nitrogen and phosphorus cycles), chemical pollution (novel entities like plastics), and freshwater change.

Crossing these limits signals that Earth’s life-support systems are actively being destabilized.

Sadly despite billions of investments into conservation, climate adaptation, and pollution control, such data paints a grim picture, revealing that our efforts have not been enough to turn the tide. Still, as economist Thomas Sowell once said, “Whatever we wish to achieve in the future, it must begin by knowing where we are in the present—not where we wish we were, or where we want others to think we are, but where we are in fact.”

And where we are is sobering: human activity is now the dominant force reshaping the planet.

This dominance plays out in many ways, some visible, others insidious. Take mining, for example: Cobalt in the Democratic Republic of Congo, Lithium in Bolivia and Chile, Manganese in Gabon, even deep-sea extraction. These operations often devastate local ecosystems, contaminate freshwater sources sometimes with carcinogenic compounds and displace indigenous communities. Acid lakes, toxic runoff, and social conflict are part of the price.

The fashion industry, too, leaves a heavy environmental footprint, emitting 10% of global emissions more than all international flights and maritime shipping combined. Beneath the seams, the fibers themselves are a problem with approximately 35% of all ocean micro plastics coming from the laundering of synthetic textiles like polyester widely used in the production of clothes.

Taken together, these examples paint a picture of a world out of balance—one where convenience and consumption are prioritized over planetary health. But even amidst this overwhelming damage, we have seen what can happen when human activity slows.

In 2020, when the COVID-19 pandemic brought many activities to a standstill, nature responded. Smog lifted from city skylines. Waterways ran clearer. We were reminded, however briefly, of the Earth’s incredible capacity for healing, and of our own need for connection to it.

A walk in the sun. The hush of waves. The breath of fresh air under ancient trees. These were not luxuries. They were lifelines. These moments did not just offer relief, they revealed what is at stake. That is why I show up for the quiet moments I enjoy when I take long walks in the forest, sleeping to the sound of rain, the smell of wet earth and birds chirping in the morning. They are reminders of what we stand to lose.

I show up by speaking, writing, and training because stories move people, and people change systems. I show up by supporting local environmental conservation efforts. I show up because of the people who do not give up. Like Wangari Maathai, who started with the simple act of planting trees and ended up sparking a global movement. Despite facing arrest, beatings, and ridicule, she persisted, because forests mattered, communities mattered, and the future mattered. Her Green Belt Movement did not just restore degraded land; it restored dignity, especially for women who were often excluded from environmental decision-making. I also show up for the everyday change makers, the friend who bikes to work come rain, come shine, the smallholder farmers practicing regenerative agriculture, the students striking for climate justice. I learn from them. I amplify their voices. They remind me that real change does not come from grand gestures alone, it is built on quiet, steady acts of courage.

Because in the end, what is at stake is not only Earth’s survival, it is the beauty of living on it.

[Blog image sourced from Jordi Vich Navarro on Unsplash, and is available for free use.]