Mongabay

She built a newsroom across 7 countries—Here’s how she did it 🛠️ As Mongabay expands its impact globally, few leaders embody its mission more fully than María Isabel Torres, the Program Director of Mongabay Latam. Based in Lima, Torres has spent the past nine years not only managing Mongabay’s Latin American bureau but also shaping its identity. Under her leadership, Mongabay Latam has grown into a regional powerhouse for environmental journalism, known for its investigative rigor, collaborative ethos, and commitment to spotlighting urgent environmental issues. This interview is part of Conversations with Mongabay Leaders (https://mongabay.cc/yZVPX5), a series exploring the people driving change within our organization. Torres’s story is one of vision, resilience, and deep belief in journalism as a force for accountability. Torres didn’t begin in environmental journalism. Her early career was rooted in political reporting during one of Peru’s most turbulent eras. Inspired by journalism that exposed corruption under the Fujimori regime, she developed a lasting respect for its public value. Later roles in the NGO sector and Peru’s Ministry of Environment revealed the complex links between environmental and political issues, setting the stage for her return to journalism with a new focus. When the chance came to lead Mongabay’s Latin America initiative, Torres saw it as more than a job — it was an opportunity to build something lasting. Her training in anthropology, deep regional understanding, and journalistic instincts helped her create a newsroom that transcends borders. She envisioned Mongabay Latam as a collaborative platform able to report with depth, context, and nuance. Torres stands out as a leader who nurtures both talent and purpose. She has built a multicultural, multidisciplinary team spanning seven countries and working with over 90 partner media outlets. She looks for alignment with Mongabay’s values, not just technical skill. Her leadership style emphasizes empathy, clarity, and mutual respect — all essential for building a resilient newsroom. At the heart of her work are people: Those defending land and biodiversity, and those who trust journalists to tell their stories with dignity. She is especially committed to amplifying the voices of women — journalists, scientists, and Indigenous leaders — whose contributions are too often overlooked. As Mongabay Latam nears its 10th anniversary, Torres is focused on the future: How to grow, how to innovate, and how to foster a culture of integrity and safety in a region where journalism can be both vital and dangerous. Through it all, she remains guided by curiosity and the belief that journalism, when done with care and collaboration, can truly make a difference. In this conversation, Torres reflects on her path, the lessons she’s learned, and what it takes to lead a newsroom committed to impact. The interview: https://mongabay.cc/I0j3ci

Why we pair crisis reporting with stories of hope 🌈 I often return to this series of images, which I took in 2022 in Jambi, Indonesia. At first glance, it seems to capture something hopeful: a full-circle rainbow arcing over a lush green landscape. But look closer, and you’ll see what lies beneath the beauty—a vast palm oil plantation, carved out of what was once native rainforest. For me, the photos encapsulate one of the central paradoxes we face in environmental journalism: the coexistence of wonder and loss, resilience and destruction, all in the same frame. The deeper we go into environmental journalism, the more paradoxes we encounter. At Mongabay, we sit with a particularly difficult one: The more intimately we understand the scale of ecological loss, the harder it becomes to stay hopeful—yet the people living closest to the crisis are often the ones imagining the boldest futures. Our work demands precision. It requires us to report on vanishing rainforests, vanishing species, vanishing time. To bear witness to lives uprooted by mining, by heat, by flood. To document not just data, but grief. There is no room to look away. And yet, only telling what’s broken isn’t enough. A steady drumbeat of devastation can numb readers, or worse, convince them that nothing can be done. That’s where the other side of the paradox comes in: when we highlight real-world responses—stories of reforestation, Indigenous leadership, coral restoration, and agroecology—we don’t dilute the truth. We expand it. We show that amid the unraveling, people are still choosing to protect what they love. This is the premise of our solutions journalism: that spotlighting success doesn’t deny the crisis: It helps prevent burnout, fuels action, and fosters resilience. It’s not about cheerleading or false optimism. It’s about documenting the full picture of what’s happening, including what’s working, so that others might learn, replicate, or support it. The people we interview often embody this paradox. A park manager in Indonesia rewilding a degraded forest without recognition. A fisher in Madagascar rebuilding local governance structures without external financial incentives. A scientist in Colombia restoring trust between communities and conservation, without formal support. They carry loss in one hand and possibility in the other. They keep going not because they’re certain of victory, but because not trying would be a deeper betrayal. Their stories—and the solutions they point to—are not afterthoughts. They are strategies for survival. They are how we stitch meaning back into the work, especially when the data alone feels too heavy to hold. Hope, then, is not the opposite of truth. It is what allows us to live with truth without giving up. In amplifying what’s working, we give readers—and ourselves—permission to keep imagining, and building, a future still worth fighting for.

From sports desk to nature’s frontlines: David Akana’s unlikely path to lead Mongabay Africa In an era when biodiversity, climate, and development challenges are mounting across Africa, Akana is helping shape a model of journalism rooted in rigor, inclusion, and long-term impact. As the head of Mongabay Africa, he oversees editorial strategy, partnerships, fundraising, and newsroom operations. But his role is also deeply personal, informed by a career spanning sports reporting, international development communications, and frontline environmental journalism. Akana’s path into the field began over two decades ago in Cameroon. A former sports journalist with a deep love of football, he changed course in 2002, joining IUCN in Central Africa. At the time, the decision was pragmatic—financial stability & editorial opportunity—but it marked a turning point. “Once I was out in the field,” he says, “I realized how high the stakes truly were.” For Akana, journalism isn’t just about facts—it’s about helping people make sense of the systems shaping their lives, particularly where power is concentrated & rights are tenuous. In such contexts, he argues, journalism can still amplify marginalized voices, expose wrongdoing, and inform communities. At Mongabay Africa, Akana brings a deep understanding of the continent’s diversity & its overlooked environmental narratives. Since taking the helm, he’s built a 17-person team, launched multilingual editorial programs, and expanded reporting from the Congo Basin to coastal West Africa & the Horn. He’s especially focused on the future: launching a Swahili-language edition & laying groundwork for coverage in other languages. “Reporting in local languages,” he says, “is how Mongabay can succeed in Africa over the long term.” He’s also realistic about the challenges. In today’s fragmented information landscape, where greenwashing and disinformation thrive, environmental journalism doesn’t create instant impact. But Akana believes credibility & consistency still matter. “Impact and influence take time,” he says. “But when done well, journalism can shape policies, empower communities, and change narratives.” That belief is evident in Mongabay’s recent work—from investigating extractive industries in the Democratic Republic of Congo to reporting on REDD+ schemes & land-use conflicts. In some cases, this coverage has led to corporate accountability, influenced investment decisions, and brought community voices to global forums. What distinguishes Akana’s leadership is his focus on mentorship & team-building grounded in Africa’s diversity. He doesn’t see himself as exceptional—just someone who stayed curious, kept learning, and was willing to make mistakes. “Any journalist,” he says, “can become an environmental journalist if they have the commitment.” With biodiversity & climate defining Africa’s future, Akana sees Mongabay as playing a vital, steady role in equipping citizens to navigate and shape these changes.

I’ve been studying nonprofits for months and I finally understand why some get funded and others don’t. In the business world, founders have stopped hiding behind logos. They show up as themselves. They talk about what they believe. They build trust by being human. But in the nonprofit world? Too many leaders are still hiding behind the organization’s logo behind abstract missions, third-person bios, and generic social posts. Here’s the truth: People follow people. Not logos. Not carefully-worded taglines. Not mission statements that sound like they were written by a committee. We follow people with a story. People who show up. People who care and aren’t afraid to say why. Look around: Which organizations are making the most noise, getting the most funding, building the biggest movements? It’s not the oldest ones. Or the ones with the biggest staff. It’s the ones where someone steps forward and says: 🪼 “Here’s why I care.” 🪼 “Here’s what I’m doing about it.” 🪼 “Here’s how you can help.” That kind of clarity and leadership is magnetic. Take Rhett Ayers Butler for example. I’ve had people boldly tell me he deserves a price for his work. I 100% agree, but why people believe in his mission so much? Because we can tell why he cares. Because we resonate with his values. Because his personal story fascinates us. Because so many have started caring because of him. Do you want more examples? Look at Roberta Boscolo Nonprofit leaders who make us feel their mission as if it was ours. So if you’re leading a nonprofit, big or small, remember this: Your mission needs your voice. Your passion. Your story. Because people don’t just donate to causes. They rally behind the people who bring those causes to life. If you’re ready to stop hiding and start connecting, I’m cheering you on. Let’s make your mission personal. Because that’s what moves people to care. #NonprofitLeadership #Storytelling #MissionDriven #SocialImpact #ClimateAction #ScienceCommunication #FounderVoice #TrustBuilding #nonprofit #ClimateAction #climatechange #conservation #storytelling

From a jungle creek in Borneo to a global environmental newsroom My journey into sustainability didn’t begin in a classroom or a boardroom—but in a rainforest in Borneo. I was a teenager, cooling my feet beside a jungle creek, when a wild orangutan emerged in the canopy overhead. We made eye contact—just for a few seconds—but that moment stayed with me. A few months later, I learned the very forest where that encounter happened was slated for destruction to make paper. That news devastated me—and lit a fire that still burns today. I began researching tropical rainforests and wrote a book in college to raise awareness. When the publisher said it wouldn’t have the budget for color photos, I uploaded the entire manuscript online so people could read it for free. That became the foundation for Mongabay, named after an island off Madagascar. It started as a side project. But I left a job in Silicon Valley to run it full-time from my apartment, publishing articles that people began translating into dozens of languages. The appetite for credible, accessible environmental information was clear—especially from regions overlooked by mainstream U.S. media. In 2011, I founded a nonprofit and launched Mongabay-Indonesia, the first independent environmental news service in Bahasa Indonesia (Indonesian) covering issues across the archipelago. Within three months, it became the most-read outlet of its kind. More importantly, it was helping inform policy, support frontline and Indigenous communities, and hold powerful interests to account. That success shaped a bigger vision: a decentralized, global network of environmental journalists. Today, Mongabay has bureaus in Latin America, India, and Africa. We work with more than 1,000 journalists in over 80 countries and publish in multiple languages. Our stories are freely republished by outlets ranging from grassroots newsletters to national newspapers. We support emerging reporters through paid fellowships in low- and middle-income countries, and our coverage spans ocean health, Indigenous rights, and science-based conservation. Our aim is simple but ambitious: Ensure that credible environmental information is available to everyone—especially those in a position to act. We don’t just report on problems; we highlight solutions. And we measure success not by pageviews, but by real-world outcomes. At its core, Mongabay exists to help people make better decisions—whether they’re policymakers, investors, conservationists, or community leaders. I didn’t set out to build a news organization. I set out to tell stories that mattered. Along the way, I found a mission—and a responsibility—that continues to grow. [This post is an abbreviated response to a recent media question about my journey into sustainability]

For World Rainforest Day: The 10 biggest tropical forests June 22 marks World Rainforest Day, launched by Rainforest Partnership to highlight the critical role of tropical forests. These ecosystems stabilize the climate, regulate rainfall, store vast amounts of carbon, and support much of the world’s biodiversity. Yet despite their importance, 2024 proved to be a devastating year. Fires ravaged vast areas, and several regions experienced record levels of primary forest loss. Here’s a snapshot of the ten largest tropical rainforest regions: Amazon The Amazon is Earth’s largest rainforest, essential to continental rainfall patterns & global climate regulation. It’s renowned for its rich biodiversity & Indigenous cultures. More than half of the tropics’ primary forest lies here, but it also accounts for the greatest total loss—nearly 44 million hectares since 2002, an area the size of Iraq. Fires in 2024 hit Brazil & Bolivia especially hard. Congo Basin Home to gorillas, bonobos, and the elusive okapi, the Congo rainforest spans Central Africa, with 60% located in DRC. Deforestation remained relatively low until recently but surged lately. Australasia New Guinea is a biodiversity stronghold with species found nowhere else—like tree kangaroos and cassowaries. Though still among the least disturbed major forest regions, threats from oil palm expansion, mining, and logging are rising. Sundaland Comprising Borneo & Sumatra, this region has seen the highest proportional forest loss since 2000 due to industrial plantations. It remains a critical habitat for rhinos, orangutans, and other iconic species. Indo-Burma Stretching across parts of SE Asia, Indo-Burma features diverse forest types and iconic wildlife such as tigers & Asian elephants. Human pressure has led to widespread fragmentation and degradation. Mesoamerica From southern Mexico to Panama, Mesoamerica’s rainforests are hotspots for birds and amphibians. Deforestation, driven by agriculture and fire, is accelerating in some areas. Wallacea Sulawesi and nearby islands are home to highly endemic species. Forest loss has grown due to plantations and infrastructure development. Guinean forests Heavily impacted by agriculture and logging, many of these West African forests are now fragmented, but the remaining patches are still ecologically rich. Atlantic forest Once stretching along Brazil’s coast into Argentina and Paraguay, the Mata Atlântica/Selva Misionera has lost more cover than any other region listed. Restoration efforts are now underway. Chocó-Darién Running from Panama to northern Ecuador, this is the world’s wettest rainforest. The outlook is sobering—but not yet hopeless. Many rainforests can still be saved if we can garner sufficient political will & sustained funding. Indigenous and local communities—proven stewards of these ecosystems—are critical. On this World Rainforest Day, the message is urgent: time is short, but there is still a path forward.

7 lessons from author Kim Stanley Robinson Five years after The Ministry for the Future was published, Kim Stanley Robinson says there’s little he would change. The novel, he explains, was meant to serve as a “cognitive map” for navigating the climate crisis & economic upheaval of the 21st century. In an interview with Mike DiGirolamo, Robinson reflects on the book’s lasting relevance as global temperatures rise & politics grow more volatile. He’s less concerned with idealized futures than with the messy process of getting there. Rather than advocating “degrowth,” Robinson imagines a “growth of goodness”—especially for the world’s poorest—as part of a shift toward what he calls “post-capitalism,” a more equitable and sustainable political economy. Still, his outlook is far from naïve. Ministry acknowledges the likelihood of reversals, from political backlash to social unrest, and explores how righteous anger can curdle into unproductive violence. Several lessons—both implicit and explicit—emerge from the conversation: 1️⃣ Storytelling shapes reality. “We are in a science fiction novel that we’re all co-writing together.” Lesson: Narratives matter. Fiction, journalism, and oral tradition influence real-world choices. Strategic storytelling can shift culture and mobilize action. 2️⃣ Utopias are processes, not endpoints. “Mostly I’ve written future histories in which the ‘getting there’ is the entire point.” Lesson: Better futures emerge through incremental struggle. Focus on present choices, not perfect outcomes. 3️⃣ Language matters—especially with “degrowth.” “Degrowth…is a spiky, negative, counterproductive name.” Lesson: Words frame meaning. Messaging that alienates the Global South may backfire. Reframe sustainability as growth in justice and resilience. 4️⃣ Economic systems evolve. “Capitalism has residual aspects of feudalism…and something else emergent…post-capitalism.” Lesson: Today’s economy contains traces of past systems—and seeds of future ones. Change is possible. 5️⃣ Tech alone isn’t enough. “The better prepared we are…in every way, the less the mortality rate will be.” Lesson: Innovation helps, but must be paired with local capacity—like solar power, infrastructure, and equity—to protect the vulnerable. 6️⃣ Despair is not an option. “Even the bad news should not lead to despair…we’re just in the most pitched moment of the battle.” Lesson: Grief is real, but giving up is dangerous. Hope is a strategy, not a delusion. 7️⃣ Tell the good stories. “You’ve got to tell the stories of the successes along the way.” Lesson: Solutions journalism is crucial. Highlighting progress sustains morale—and momentum—for change. These lessons underscore Robinson’s central argument: The future is not yet written. It is shaped by the stories we tell, the systems we question, and the solidarity we forge. 📰 https://lnkd.in/gmshZtnS

Rigorous, not righteous: How S. Gopikrishna Warrier helped build Mongabay India’s newsroom. In the polarized world of environmental discourse, Gopi Warrier offers something rare: steadiness. As editorial director of Mongabay-India, Warrier has helped shape a newsroom defined by clarity, credibility, and curiosity. Since 2017, he’s worked alongside Program Director Sandhya Sekar to grow Mongabay’s Indian bureau into a trusted voice—publishing thousands of deeply reported stories in English and Hindi, from coastal islands to Himalayan hamlets. Warrier’s path to this role spans nearly four decades of experience across media houses, NGOs, and international research institutes. He formally trained in journalism after studying zoology and English literature and was inspired early on by pioneers like Darryl D’Monte. From the start, he’s sought to understand the deep connections between society and nature. At Mongabay, Warrier has drawn a clear line: the work is journalism, not advocacy. The mission, he says, is to inform—not inflame. His belief in editorial rigor and teamwork has helped Mongabay-India shape national conversations, from forestry investment reform in Himachal Pradesh to pre-election coverage on environmental politics. Building the bureau required more than editorial instinct. Warrier and Sekar prioritized fit and collaboration over credentials when hiring, knowing a newsroom’s strength lies in how well its members work together. Now, as Mongabay-India explores new formats like short video explainers, Warrier remains energized by the opportunity to combine science, storytelling, and accessibility for broader audiences. Yet what drives him remains unchanged: a lifelong curiosity. Outside the newsroom, he indulges in “proxy flying”—watching aviation videos and marveling at landscapes from the window seat. In conversation, that same quiet wonder comes through—along with a sense of purpose rooted in history, humility, and the long view. Key lessons from Warrier's approach to journalism: ☑️ Clarity over conflict: “We bring more light than heat.” Avoid combative reporting—focus on understanding. ☑️ Rigor, not advocacy: Journalism must inform. Let others take inspiration; your job is accuracy and depth. ☑️ Teamwork beats talent: Skills matter, but collaboration and alignment with mission are essential. ☑️ Stay curious: A learner’s mindset fuels both professional growth and personal resilience. ☑️ Connect the dots: Link environment, society, economics, and politics to tell the full story. The interview: https://lnkd.in/gRNRpfkn