Spaces that spark change: Reflections on the Skoll Week in Oxford

In this insight piece, Sofia Papadakaki, Fundraising and Partnerships Manager at Unearthodox, shares her experience at the Skoll Week in Oxford.

What do collective social innovation, trust-based philanthropy and ethics-centered AI have in common?

As I discovered during the Skoll World Forum week in Oxford, they are all deep conversations we need to have – to question our own biases, to challenge our dominant ways of thinking and being, and to find pathways towards meaningful learning and change.

Even with a full workload in a busy month, I am glad I took the time to attend, learn and connect to help drive critical social change. Here's why.

The Skoll World Forum is just the tip of the iceberg

While the forum was the central event, what stood out were the spaces orbiting it – Marmalade Festival and TheSidebar. These open-source, participant-led events are shaped not by a central agenda but by the interests, pressing questions and shared challenges that people bring to it, creating space for the conversations that truly need to happen.

For an organisation like Unearthodox, these spaces are precious. We nurture bold ideas that aim to radically change the way we care for nature. And like a seed, ideas need a fertile ground to grow. For me, this week at Oxford was exactly that. From fishbowl conversations, interactive workshops and storytelling games to more traditional discussions, the formats were varied, but what stood out was the diversity of voices that made this experience so special. Hyper-local and hyper-global, people of all backgrounds and ages came together with curiosity, a thirst to learn and genuine care; giving me so much to reflect upon and remember.

Learning starts with curiosity, not data

The first day started with a powerful reframing from the Botnar Foundation and the Collective Impact Agency: “We keep getting more data, but it’s not helping.”

Our systems often equate learning to data collection and analysis. But this session invited us to think differently – how to rehumanise learning. It challenged us to make it less about content or control and more about care by nurturing the relationships between those who learn together, and creating safe inclusive spaces for reflections. This really resonated with me – at Unearthodox, we recognise that tackling complex nature-society challenges is a messy uncomfortable journey, but that’s where deep, meaningful learning and change happens.

Collective approaches are reshaping social innovation

Throughout the week, one theme echoed – collective approaches are essential to reshape social innovation. From the Schwab Foundation’s “The Future is Collective” report launch to RINGO’s workshop on "Reverse Call for Proposals", it was clear that collective action is no longer optional. Social innovation and systemic change cannot be driven by individuals alone. It takes ecosystems coming together and holding more power than any sum of individual parts ever could.

Photo taken during the session ‘Hacking the Wealth Defense Industry: How We Might Direct the Great Wealth Transfer Towards Justice’ .

Reimagining capital for systemic change

Capital – how it flows, who it empowers and what it values – was at the heart of many conversations. At Unearthodox, we’ve been exploring how the Future of Philanthropy should evolve as a practice rooted in equity, relationships and long-term systems thinking. From Wasan Network’s "Beyond Financial Capital", to JRF’s and the Wealth Hackers Initiative’s "Hacking the Wealth Defense Industry", to Menjadi’s and Planet Indonesia’s session on "Integrating Equity into the Practices of Funding Intermediaries", they all converged on a shared understanding: we must redefine capital.

For real systems change, capital must be rooted in trust, care, time, relationships and equity. It can’t just be a checkbox; it has to be a core practice of how we work.

Whose voices shape AI?

Given that Unearthodx is currently exploring questions around the kinds of knowledge embedded in AI systems and whose values they reflect, I was naturally drawn to a session on "The Human Side of AI". My main takeaway? Changing systems starts with changing whose voices are heard.

A personal note

I feel privileged to have been part of this vibrant sharing space; thankful for the inspiring discussions and connections; blessed by an atmosphere of solidarity, courage and openness; and overwhelmed by the sheer magnitude of the agenda. I even came back with some small treasures – Kevin L. Brown’s new book "Fundable and Findable", and Movement Generation’s "Just Transition" booklet shared by the Good Ancestor Movement.

My one piece of advice? If you go, bring an open mind and heart. Be prepared to listen deeply and share genuinely. You may feel overwhelmed at times, but trust me, so does everyone. Take a breath and go with the flow. You will meet old and new friends, make unexpected connections and, if you’re lucky, get a few tips from local attendees about hidden-but-must-see Oxford gems.

See you there next year!

Weaving Cultural Memory and Imagination to Transform Chaos into Creativity

Sarah Queblatin is a regenerative design and development specialist who has been weaving collective experiences in peacebuilding, biocultural heritage, mental health, and humanitarian innovation for more than 15 years. She founded Living Story Landscapes, which works with cultural memory and imagination as a response to the polycrisis. Previously, she founded Green Releaf Initiative working with regenerative solutions in disasters and displacement. She is also an artist working with the arts for personal and collective healing.  In this conversation she shares insights on bioregional wisdom, scaling deep, and the role of creativity in transformative change.

How do you define/explain the term regeneration? And what distinguishes regenerative practices from sustainability efforts?

The general understanding of sustainability is that it's about reducing harm, but regeneration is about doing more - doing better. Sustainability often focuses on security. Whereas regeneration is committed to sovereignty. It is  life-giving and constantly evolving. It’s not growth for the sake of growth. It imitates life, is inspired by life, and gives life. For example, in post disaster recovery, we do not promise that the supertyphoon will not happen again, but we say that if we design from life, we can co-create ways to reduce impacts or have enough means to recover easier. Sustainability meets the needs of being a survivor. Whereas regeneration creates the conditions for people and habitats to become thrivers. 

In your experience as both an artist and a regenerative design specialist, how have you used creativity to inspire collective action?

Yes, I've worked with creativity in different ways. I work through two stages in applied creative practice: from illusion to intuition, and from intuition to imagination. 

From Illusion to Intuition 

In the first stage, we discover and understand loss, and regenerative design invites us to be trauma-informed at this stage. Illusion is the experience of  realising that something we once thought was true is no longer valid, like the current system, once seen as self-sustaining and that is now falling apart. In this stage, we confront the loss of the world we once knew—not just a home, a belief or a system, but a familiar way of being. This is where healing arts come in, such as art therapy, ceremony, and ritual. It’s a space where I often work with people who have lost homes, family, or the familiarity of a belief or system they once relied on. These practices help individuals and communities recognise their loss and begin the grieving process. Rituals help bridge this gap, guiding us back to intuition—our deeper knowing, the wisdom we already carry—which is where healing begins. 

Intuition is remembering our resilience, what we already know—what’s within us and around us. This is where I work with tools like mandalas or community maps. These help people piece together the parts of themselves or their communities, making visible what’s already present. In bioregional storytelling, for example, we map what is sacred, what is valued, and what narratives are held in a place that holds meaning to people. It’s a process of remembering—reclaiming what was always there, despite loss. These creative tools resonate deeply, especially since not everyone is literate; using symbolic methods cuts across language and meaning. 

The transition from illusion to intuition invites us to engage in solutions that support immediate assistance in the short term but one that has long term continuity. For example, when it comes to food security, in our work with permaculture in disaster zones, we offered not just immediate food packs but we sourced from nearby farms, encouraging people to donate to these farmers to support our community kitchen partners. In camps, people cook these through appropriate technologies we demonstrated through rocket stoves and water harvested from roofs. Seeds saved and cuttings were used to grow gardens, creating a regenerative cycle of food abundance. This sovereignty allows communities to be self-sufficient, with autonomy, through local solutions.

From Intuition to Imagination 

The next phase is moving from intuition to imagination. Once people reconnect with their resilience, they can begin to envision new narratives from a place of wholeness, where whole systems design aptly enhances this process.However, I often caution that imagination without a grounded understanding of what we need to let go of — such as old beliefs and illusions - can feel disconnected. True imagination emerges when we know we are whole and have the resources to create something new. While imagination involves creating what doesn't yet exist, it also requires a foundation of resilience. It is vital to be trauma-informed about imagination. In communities experiencing historical trauma, imagination is a privilege. I cannot count how many times I’ve heard how “young people do not dream anymore,” given the extreme experiences they have been through. This is why the journey to regeneration requires meeting capacities for resilience — reclaiming memory, how people and habitats can recover what they have lost.  I love using mapping tools to bring parts of a whole together. Bioregional maps, for instance —which help communities identify what is sacred, valuable, and invisible in their landscapes offer  more meaning when we make the invisible, visible. In the next stage of imagination, we work with visioning and planning tools. I especially love using community vision mandalas for this.  We then translate this vision into an action plan. In one exercise we used a tree map, where the fruit represents the ultimate project outcome, the flowers are the outputs, the branches are the activities, and the trunk and roots symbolise the objectives and resources. This approach allowed the community to visualise their goals in a way that was both cyclical and life-giving before converting it into a more linear design to meet donor requirements. 

I used to work for a museum earlier, I quit to focus on environmental education, but in doing so, I lost track of my creative life. Recently, I’ve been trying to marry my soil work with my soul work. Over the years, we have helped people rediscover their traditional ecological knowledge through their food, recipes, and local biodiversity. But now I’m working on how we can make these visible, where bioregional learning centres can also serve as museums—places where people can plan, design and integrate their cultural memory and imagination.

After closing my non-profit, I continued this work through my passion project called ‘Living Story Landscapes’, where I work with wisdom keepers of the land, as well as artists, wisdom keepers, and ecologists.

What are the biggest challenges you’ve faced in promoting regenerative approaches? Have you faced resistance to change and, if so, how do you overcome resistance to these transformative ideas?

I can't speak for all Global South countries, but we've faced challenges in the Philippines where we collaborated with international organisations that introduced western concepts of regenerative culture and innovation.

Our design innovation aimed to listen to the land and communities, but the institutional pressures to deliver outputs and reports — often with limited and delayed funding — constrained our ability to engage meaningfully. The old, colonised model of development often dictates that an international office instructs local partners to implement and localise approaches, reinforcing a top-down structure.

While we strive to engage people in collaborative design, inherited development plans — shaped by old models and  dominantly western agendas — limit  genuine representation. For instance, while designing training for bioregional governance in Asia, I initially felt sad by the lack of references from the region. However, I eventually realised that many practices were already in place, rooted in earth wisdom-based systems and practices. This highlighted that the principles of bioregional governance are already deeply embedded and embodied within communities.

Instead of imposing a new framework, we need to draw from what already exists. Capturing and understanding these existing narratives and wisdom can be daunting, given the emotional and material complexities involved. The challenge lies in defining and articulating these practices in ways that resonate with local contexts.

What do you see as the most critical factors that can drive large-scale regenerative change globally?

The Philippines, my country, ranks first in the World Risk Index for facing the most disasters and hazards. Working in such an environment requires working with emergence and emergency. While an emergency demands immediate action, it also paradoxically invites us to slow down, allowing innovations to come from emergence.

It’s not just about scaling up for influence or scaling out to replicate, but also scaling deep—to deepen relationships, to strengthen cultures of trust, wisdom traditions, and connections to local heritage and knowledge. These locally rooted practices — already being carried out by many first nations and global south efforts — are what make regeneration impactful.

When we introduced a tree-planting initiative in a supertyphoon-affected community, people were hesitant—past experiences with falling trees had caused serious damage and loss of life. But our team explained that, planted in the right places, trees act as natural barriers. We shared the importance of using native species, whose deep roots stabilise the land and reduce risk. It reminded me how deep roots strengthen trees—just as deep connections to land strengthen communities in difficult times.

I believe we need large-scale institutional change woven with smaller, deeply rooted efforts. Without the latter, meaningful or lasting change isn’t possible—they fill the cracks as weavers and bridge builders.

What is your vision for a regenerative future?

Imagining a future is challenging, especially for nations in the frontlines of the polycrisis, but I think the wisdom we have already gained from thousands of years of evolutionary learning is urging us forward. We can tap into that wisdom to move from chaos to creativity, to co-create new narratives for a regenerative future.

Of course, this future must be a thriving, equitable world. I believe we are also recognising the deeper awareness that spans across seven generations which indigenous worldviews base decisions on. Wisdom keepers speak of a sense of belonging to something much larger beyond time, and I believe the decisions we make from that place will guide us to a more regenerative way of living.

Read the previous insight piece in the Regenerative Futures series: “Towards a deeper, reciprocal relationship with the planet” by Nisha Mary Poulose here.

Towards a deeper, reciprocal relationship with the planet

Nisha Mary Poulose is an architect and bioregional planner with a passion for socio-ecological transformation and regenerative systems. She is the founder of Woven Design Collaborative—a firm that designs, strategises and weaves at the confluence of human habitat, planning, and the environment.

In this piece, Nisha highlights humanity’s role in co-evolution with the Earth rather than mere conservation, and stresses the importance of validating ancestral wisdom and rebalancing aspirations with environmental realities. Nisha envisions a regenerative future with local abundance, collective well-being, and thriving ecosystems—where both nature and people coexist in freedom, embracing their interdependent roles within the planet’s cycles.

Question: How do you define or explain the term regeneration? And in your view, what distinguishes regenerative practices from sustainability efforts?

I like to talk about regeneration as a process as old as the Earth itself—something intrinsic to the way life unfolds. The simplest way to understand it is by looking at how an organism, or even part of one, regains or re-evolves its ability to function fully. What I find fascinating is that when something regenerates, it doesn’t always look the same as it did before. It may have changed, adapted, or taken on a new form, yet it’s still whole, still fully itself.

When we talk about regeneration in today’s world, I see it as a way of rediscovering our deep, intrinsic connection with the Earth. It’s about moving back into a state of co-evolution—where we actively support the planet’s ability to regenerate. The Earth already regenerates at an ecosystemic level, with countless interconnected subsystems co-regenerating in a natural, continuous cycle. For us as humans, that connection has been severely disrupted, largely due to colonial processes that interrupted this co-evolution in much of the world.

Somewhere along the way, we lost the sense that we are one among millions of species living on this planet—participants in a larger regenerative process. The sustainability movement emerged as a response to this, and while it was important, I’ve always felt that it had a certain limitation. It was framed in a very scientific, structured way, focusing on how we manage resources to ensure survival beyond our time. But at its core, it still treated the Earth as just a set of resources—asking, "How much can we take while ensuring the supply continues?" It remains human-centric and rooted in extraction, but now with limits in place.

Regeneration, on the other hand, asks a different question: "How do we collaborate with the Earth?" As a species, we have a function within this planetary system, just like any other organism. So how do we rediscover what that function is, rebalance our role, and reintegrate into the natural cycles of continuous regeneration?

That said, I don’t see regeneration and sustainability as separate movements. Sustainability emerged as a response to the processes of global colonisation, environmental destruction, and mass extinction. It was a necessary response to an urgent crisis. But for me, sustainability is just one part of a larger regenerative process. We still need resources, and the Earth is both a provider and a living organism that we are a part of. Regeneration encompasses sustainability, but it goes beyond it—towards a deeper, more reciprocal relationship with the planet.

I read that you've been working on human ecology rebalancing and have initiated and worked on specific projects or initiatives in this space. Could you talk us through the key strategies you used and share more about what you've done in this area?

My background is in architecture, followed by a Master’s in International Cooperation in Urban Development, and a second one in Urbanism and Habitat. This path led me to regional planning, which, in most countries, falls under public administration. I spent a couple of years working as a planner with the Karnataka government, but even before my Master’s, I was involved in planning projects as an architect.

Through that experience, one thing became clear: Our governance systems are currently highly technocratic. They are largely dominated by engineers and bureaucrats who treat urban development as a problem to be solved through infrastructure—bridges, roads, and technology-driven solutions. But we’re not machines. We’re living organisms, and our cities should reflect that.

This realisation shaped my practice and led to the creation of The Woven Design Collaborative. We approach urban spaces not as ‘settlements’—which implies dominance over land—but as ‘habitats’, acknowledging interdependence with the environment. A habitat isn’t just for humans; it includes multiple species and natural systems that sustain life. When any element is out of balance, the whole system suffers. Our work focuses on shifting urban spaces from static settlements to dynamic, living ecosystems.

Take, for instance, the Hampi project. Hampi is an ancient site, dating back a few thousand years and holds deep historical, cultural, and mythological significance. It's also home to a living community whose relationship with the region can be traced back through the generations. Despite the area's rich natural and cultural legacy, these communities exist in severe poverty, a reality shaped by centuries of systemic oppression.

The mainstream development approach in Hampi has revolved around tourism and, more recently, pilgrimage infrastructure. While tourism is an economic driver, it cannot be the sole focus of development. The challenge was to reactivate Hampi as a living, thriving community rather than just a spectacle for visitors.

Our strategy aimed to integrate conservation, cultural heritage, and community well-being into a holistic development framework. Rather than imposing large-scale external interventions—like five-star hotels and generic infrastructure—we looked at how to create a regenerative economy led by the local community. For instance, instead of generic tour guides, why not have locals share their lived knowledge? Why not use indigenous materials and craftsmanship rather than importing mass-produced structures? Development should enhance a place, not erase it.

People on the ground—whether local communities or government employees—often already know the best solutions. Yet, top-down decision-making and a one-size-fits-all approach keep them from being implemented effectively. Development needs to move beyond rigid bureaucratic templates and listen to those who truly understand the land.

This brings me to wonder: who are we to tell them what they should or should not aspire to?

You're absolutely right. That’s a very powerful question. I mean, who has the right to decide the future, right? Who has the right to say, "this should be"? Of course, there’s a power dynamic at play because we’re all a very privileged, educated layer of society deciding this for others. But the only thing I’d say about that is, what is true aspiration versus what is built or created aspiration? What is someone saying you should be, versus what do you genuinely want?

For me, one important thing is to place awareness on this disconnect. We have two disruptive layers. One is the colonial layer that came and said, "We are savage, everything we do is wrong." We’re still trying to figure out what part of history was altered; we don’t even know. Even people who spend so much time understanding coloniality—people who research, read and contemplate —find it difficult to unravel. So, for those without access to education, it’s even harder, right? Especially in the pluralistic context of India, where the British reinforced this narrative, and the upper classes and castes perpetuated it even further. That layer needs to be peeled away.

I think it’s important to provide a platform where there is validation for this wisdom. When people feel valued in their root contexts, that’s often all that’s needed to tip the scales.

How do you envision the future of regenerative practices or regenerative future? What's your vision for it?

The future I imagine is one where we truly embrace our local systems. A future where everyone experiences abundance and joy from their own surroundings—where life is about living, not about earning, proving a point, or anything beyond simply existing. I believe that, wherever you are in the world, there is an indigenous way of life that allows you to live abundantly within the available resources.

The future I envision is one where people find joy and abundance at a bioregional scale. This is a scale I'm deeply engaged with, both conceptually and practically, and I find it incredibly meaningful. It’s about doing enough to thrive, not striving for excess. It’s about building a community where collective aspirations matter, where we recognise that we rise together. When we think about gain or resources, it should be for the benefit of all.

In the future, I imagine, nature is free. This is the essence of a regenerative future—where rivers flow freely, forests flourish undisturbed, and biodiversity thrives. It is a future in which nature’s authentic and wild systems are no longer colonised, excessively controlled, unduly altered or exploited—free from dams, overfishing, overgrazing, mindless infrastructure, and other human-imposed oppressions.

Follow Nisha on LinkedIn or Instagram.

To read the previous piece in the Regenerative Futures series: “How soil, communities and law can save our future” by Sumru Ramsey click here, and to read the next piece “Weaving Cultural Memory and Imagination to Transform Chaos into Creativity” by Sarah Queblatin click here.

How soil, communities and law can save our future

Sumru Ramsey is an environmental advocate whose journey from finance to activism has shaped her mission to create regenerative futures. With a background in business and finance from Queen Mary University of London and London Business School and a qualification in garden design, Sumru believes that we need to move from intentions to actions. 

Sumru highlights the power of law to hold corporations accountable, the importance of healthy soil and the need to rethink our relationship with nature. Her advocacy spans issues such as plastic reduction, greenwashing and regenerative farming, inspiring others to help create a sustainable future.

Your work with ClientEarth involves leveraging philanthropy for environmental justice. How do you believe philanthropic initiatives can best support regenerative futures, especially in areas where environmental and social needs intersect?

For the future of our planet, it is crucial we learn to live in a healthy symbiosis with nature. One million species are threatened with extinction; 20 million people are forced to move due to climate change – climate health and social justice are closely linked. Ninety per cent of the world’s forests have already disappeared and 7.25 million tons of plastic ends up in the ocean every year. It is essential to protect our planet, our health and future generations. 

I am a member of the development board for an environmental law charity – ClientEarth.

By using the power of law, ClientEarth holds corporations and governments to account for their commitments. The biggest challenge today is not just the commitments, but their actual implementation. We need to move from intentions to actions. 

I believe that using the force of law is incredibly powerful to defend and preserve life on Earth. Our planet will survive but we won’t if we don’t restore nature. The high density of concrete-built cities next to vast deforested land farmed for intensive, industrial-based agriculture inevitably leads to severe natural disasters. 

Environmental and social needs are deeply interlinked. Environmental disasters, climate change, biodiversity loss, floods and droughts all have a deep impact on society. These can lead to mass migration, malnutrition or even starvation, the spread of disease or deepening inequality in most affected areas. 

Building regenerative futures requires a resilient and long-term sense of purpose. It is about shying away from a short-term, extractive mindset. Philanthropic foundations often have this long-term time horizon by design. They are therefore ideally set up to change habits and behaviours to build a more sustainable society for future generations.

In your advocacy and board work, you have likely witnessed how environmental policies affect local communities. What strategies have you found effective in empowering communities to engage with and influence these policies?

It is important to ensure that communities can use the law to ensure that companies and governments uphold their obligations on environmental issues.

One example that ClientEarth is working on involves representing people in the US who have been burdened with abandoned oil and gas wells polluting their properties. There are over two million such wells across the US that have been abandoned by fossil fuel companies, who should have ‘plugged’ the wells once they stopped producing. The farmers and property owners involved in the case are asking the court to establish their right to collect clean-up costs from the companies, which they allege fraudulently sold the wells to escape their obligations. 

Another interesting area of ClientEarth’s work relates to community-based forest management in Gabon, undertaken together with local NGO Brainforest. This project aims to empower communities with the legal knowledge required to set up and sustainably manage community-owned and -operated forests.

Community-based forest management is one of the most effective ways to protect against commercial loggers and deforestation while supporting local economies.

You've been an advocate for reducing pesticides in our food chain for over 25 years. What first inspired your passion for a non-toxic approach to gardening and food?

Originally Turkish, in my early twenties I was very worried that our beautiful blue coast was not being protected adequately from over-construction by massive fisheries being built and managed with little or no regulations. The area in which these fisheries are located is home to very potent Mediterranean seagrass. Seagrass can capture large amounts of carbon, it cleans the water from pollutants and it forms a habitat for marine life. At the time, I was deeply inspired by the book Silent Spring by Rachel Carson, in which she clearly outlined the urgent need to move away from pesticides. This year is the 100th anniversary of Rudolph Steiner’s agricultural lectures on biodynamic farming and organic agriculture, which was known to many ancient civilisations but was abandoned for toxic monocultural farming. 

The true cost of producing monocultures was never taken into account and now we are faced with a crisis in soil fertility. But people today are starting to realise the importance of having healthy soil. I am following regenerative farmers who collect data and use AI to help navigate trends in illnesses and pests in plants. I am learning every day from nature and its interconnections. Plants have immune systems very much like ours. Healthy plants reduce the need for pesticides. 

Everything in nature is related, so it is very important to understand the soil our food is grown in, as this determines the level of nutrients. What has your food eaten? For soil to be healthy and nutrient-rich, it needs to be balanced. We need a deep, systemic approach with an analysis of why certain diseases are appearing. Science shows us the relationship between plant health and pests. Producing healthy crops diminishes the need for pesticides. 

I believe regenerative practices will become mainstream in the next 20 years. We cannot afford to continue in this pesticide-centric model. Three-quarters of the Earth’s soil is degraded. The trillions of micro-organisms in our soil are dead and water can no longer be absorbed. Soil has many functions, from being a carbon sink to purifying water, preventing floods through absorption and giving us food. We should nurture it, not abuse it.

You’ve highlighted how our everyday choices impact nature – from food to consumer goods. How can a greater awareness of these connections help us address issues like climate change?

I would like to inspire others to grow their own food and to feed their soil correctly or support biodynamic practices near them. Keeping childlike curiosity is crucial, such as asking questions about where things come from. 

One way for each of us to get involved is to become micro-activists on the issues that interest us most. Just spending your money more consciously is a start. Consumers also need to be aware of greenwashing, where a corporation makes misleading claims about the sustainability or climate impact of its product.

How do you think we can encourage families, especially children, to connect with nature and understand the cycles of life through hands-on activities like gardening?

Our daughter started collecting seeds at the age of five and planting her own vegetables. This helped her understand our power to reproduce plants and strengthened her connection with nature and its vulnerability in times of heavy rain, early frost and heatwaves. The natural circular cycle of composting and using our waste to feed our plants and animals, which in return feed us, offered her an understanding of our interconnections and translated into a deeper respect for our interdependencies. You can experiment in your own garden, test the soil’s pH levels, give it the right natural feeds, rotate crops, and add wood chips, leaves and straw. At home, we compost rabbit and chicken manure. All this allows for mycelium to form and helps plants absorb water and nutrients as well as helps with plant immunity. 

A sense of purpose is very important for our happiness. Giving back to nature by allowing certain parts of your garden to go wild will bring back the insects, butterflies, bees and birds. Going back to the basics of kitchen gardens, allotments or buying from regenerative farms can help connect children to nature in tangible ways that also keep us healthy.

We need to move from intentions to actions and what better way than to start in your backyard, where you can learn a lot more than you think!

To read the previous piece in the Regenerative Futures series “When human innovation and nature’s processes become one” by Nadya Skaljic click here and to read the next piece “Towards a deeper, reciprocal relationship with the planet” by Nisha Mary Poulose click here.

Sparking Regenerative Futures: Highlights from the Unearthodox Retreat

What does it take to turn bold visions into actions that truly regenerate our world? How do we shift from sustaining life to empowering it to thrive?

In November 2024, Unearthodox hosted our Regenerative Futures Retreat, an inspiring gathering of 40 thinkers and doers united by one shared goal: reimagining futures where all forms of life flourish together.   

Reflecting on the experience, one participant, Charly Karamanian, shared on LinkedIn: “Personally, it was an extremely moving experience. I found my tribe 11,000 kilometres from home; a selection of personalities and dreamers from different cultures, backgrounds and perspectives, with whom we share a purpose. Conservationists, biologists, scientists, lawyers, entrepreneurs, visionaries, activists and defenders of human rights, diversities and aboriginal communities – hailing from Argentina, Australia, Belgium, Bolivia, Brazil, Canada, France, Germany, India, Italy, Kenya, Panama, the Philippines, South Africa, Spain, Switzerland, the United Kingdom and the United States.”

What an extraordinary week it was! The retreat marked a significant milestone in our flagship Regenerative Futures Programme. Over five days (18–22 November), participants from around the world gathered in a stunning natural setting in northern Italy. Together, we explored some of today’s most pressing challenges, such as:

Through dynamic workshops, thought-provoking discussions and moments of deep reflection, participants didn’t just dream about a better future, they began building it. The focus extended beyond actions we might take to what we must stop doing to prevent persistent harmful actions. 

Participant Shweta Srivastav, reflected on LinkedIn with a poignant question: “What persistent harmful actions do you think need to be stopped in your context to unchoke its regenerative potential?” Her words resonate deeply with the essence of the retreat, urging each of us to critically examine the systems and practices we perpetuate.

The journey of regeneration

From creative storytelling to somatic movement and meditative practices led by Marika Heinrichs, the retreat invited participants to embrace regeneration from the inside out, both as an internal and external process. 

The week began with a visionary talk by Bayo Akomolafe, who challenged us to rethink regeneration. Instead of mastering or solving the crisis we are in, we were encouraged to ‘become with it’, embracing uncertainty and discomfort. Regeneration, he explained, is often misunderstood as an exit strategy or a solution. Like early humans creating art in caves during times of crisis, regeneration calls us to make sanctuary, attending to the present moment without the pressure of immediate answers.

Bayo Akomolafe
Bayo Akomolafe

Modernity’s obsession with newness traps us in cycles of repetition, argued Bayo, similar to an ant death spiral where movement feels progressive but remains circular. Solutions are like doors, anticipated within existing systems. Instead, regeneration should embrace cracks and unpredictable disruptions that open space for new possibilities, rather than solutions and mastery. 

Building on these ideas, Lua Couto and Nisha Poulose guided participants through deep reflections on rebuilding relationships with the land, with each other and with ourselves. They encouraged us to celebrate connection over consumption, embrace pluralistic and decolonial learning systems, and shift toward economic models that prioritise life over profit.

Nisha Poulose
Nisha Poulose
Lua Couto
Lua Couto

The retreat concluded with Bill Sharpe’s facilitation of the Three Horizons Framework, mapping bold pathways toward 2050 and a future where justice, interdependence and innovation replace extraction, exploitation and inequality.

Bill Sharpe
Bill Sharpe

A transformational experience

Engaging in these conversations was both challenging and exhilarating. Supporting one another with empathy and acceptance made the journey possible and fostered a deep sense of gratitude. For many, the retreat was transformational, made possible by the unique conditions that brought us together in a spirit of respect, collaboration and humility. Though not always easy, the experience was consistently inspiring, leaving participants ‘switched on’ with real hope for regenerative futures. This hope is sustained by a plurality of ideas, emotions and a profound sense of connection.

Unearthodox retreat illustration

This is just the beginning

The retreat marked another powerful step in Unearthodox’s flagship Regenerative Futures Programme. In early 2025, we will publish a State of Knowledge Report. Along with insights from our recent Voices of Regeneration Creative Call and the retreat, the report will guide our next phase: moving from reframing regeneration to sourcing innovations that operationalise this new understanding. 

At Unearthodox, we are profoundly grateful for the individuals who joined us in this retreat. Their passion, openness and courage to explore bold ideas and tackle complex challenges made this gathering not just an event, but a transformative experience. Each participant brought unique wisdom, creativity and heart, sparking meaningful connections and inspiring new ways of thinking.

Moments like these, where diverse voices come together to reimagine what’s possible, are where real change begins. This is just the start of a powerful journey, and it is an honour to walk this path alongside such extraordinary changemakers. Together, we are planting the seeds for a thriving, interconnected world.

For that, we are deeply grateful.

The Unearthodox Team

Acknowledgements 

We would like to thank:

Bayo Akomolafe, Executive director of the Emergence Network

Lua Couto, Founder at Futuro Possíve

Nisha Poulose, Founder & Lead Planner- Woven Design Collaborative

Laura Pena Zanatta, Owner of MetaMorf

Marika Heinrichs, Co-Founder of Embodied Ancestral Inquiry

Bill Sharpe, Independent Researcher and Futures Practitioner in Science, Technology and Society

When human innovation and nature’s processes become one

Nadja Skaljic is a legal executive working across the green, financial and tech industries and is one of only two lawyers admitted into The Club of Rome, the global systems change think tank. With Unearthodox, she shares her socioecological systems logic for a future of complete synergy between humanity and nature.

You have long advocated for biodiversity conservation and environmental sustainability and currently, there is an emerging concept called ‘regeneration’. What does regeneration mean to you? How do you define it? What defines regenerative practices from sustainability efforts? 

Early in my career as an international lawyer, I understood that the critical connection between rights and our natural world makes pursuing environmental justice an urgent priority. However, I also understood the limits of litigation. We cannot sue ourselves out of the Triple Planetary Crisis. We cannot prosecute our way to a stable climate. 

During my graduate studies at the Harvard Kennedy School of Government, I had the privilege of studying under John Ruggie, the architect of the UN Guiding Principles on Business and Human Rights, which set the global soft law standard in this field. To my surprise, working with Ruggie sparked my interest in business. I supported his work with Unilever’s Sustainability Advisory Council and witnessed firsthand the potential of business as a powerful force for good—benefiting both people and the planet.

Since then, my career has spanned public and private sector work. I recognise that the dysfunction in our systems is a design issue. Most structures underpinning modern society are designed to foster competition, short-term profits and growth at all costs. We lawyers have significant ethical and environmental responsibilities. We can help free our societies from unfit anthropocentric frameworks and reinvent organisations and processes for a new purpose. There is a better way to practice law, do business, and finance.

We have made significant progress since Ruggie’s responsible business principles. Today, we have hard laws for environmental crimes, with financial penalties of 4% of global turnover for companies engaging in greenwashing or depleting water resources. Alternatively, fines can be up to €40 million, depending on the nature of the crime. Individual environmental offences today are punishable by up to ten years in prison. 

Yet none of these advances are helping us achieve real systems change. Most sustainability initiatives focus on preserving resources in their current state, such as reducing waste and using renewable energy sources. What is needed is a shift from a limited industrial and business logic to a holistic socio-ecological systems logic. This is where regeneration begins.  

Regeneration is an ambitious term with diverse meanings. At its most basic, it recognises humanity as a part of nature – the interconnectedness of our legal and financial systems, individuals and society with the natural ecosystems. 

It asks how we can empower nature in co-creation with humanity towards emergence. 

What are the biggest challenges you see in promoting and implementing regenerative initiatives? What opportunities do you believe still need to be explored or awaiting? 

In business and finance, we lack board competency for basic climate and nature governance, never mind regeneration. At the same time, regulatory pressure from the European Union and others now sets out specific commitments and actions, including, for example, establishing legally binding nature restoration targets. Corporate boards are putting extraordinary pressure on middle management responsible for implementing our transition into this new economy. The outcomes achieved thus far have fallen significantly short of expectations.

There is also tension between profit and sustainability. Many advocates insist that sustainability and regeneration create value for business and the environment. Business and finance remain sceptical, often paying lip service to change by only formally claiming to operate following ESG – the various environmental, sustainability and governance standards. This has most recently manifested in a withdrawal from ‘green’ commitments and investments. I often say you can be anti-ESG, but you cannot be anti-responsibility. That is, you may not like the existing sustainability laws, investment products or risk assessment tools, but your obligation as a money manager or business owner to act responsibly remains. 

We can no longer continue eating into the capital of our planet. Our transition towards regeneration requires us to answer: what is humanity’s store of value going forward? In most countries, nature only has the legal status of mere property. This means that our current laws protect nature mainly for the benefit of people and corporations and not for nature itself. Contracts are written to protect the property rights of individuals, corporations and other legal entities at the expense of nature. Even our environmental protection laws legalise environmental harm by regulating how much pollution or destruction of nature can occur within the law. If we were to grant legal personhood to nature, that may help us to begin to see it as a stakeholder in our governance and policy decisions. 

I see significant potential in a new generation of lab-based companies dedicated to addressing this question I too am focused on – what is the new store of value? These companies recognise the functional interdependency of Earth’s life support systems. They operate at the intersection of hardware, software, and wetware, seamlessly integrating organic components, such as in vivo neurons, into computational systems. At this nexus, we begin innovating both for nature and in collaboration with it.

How is your philanthropic work supporting regenerative initiatives? Any special examples? 

Sedative philanthropy—initiatives that create the illusion of progress while ultimately preserving the status quo—is a relic of the past. Its time is over. The new era in philanthropy is human. Together with André Hoffmann and Carlos Alvarez Pereira, I wrote an article for the World Economic Forum explaining why we support this evolution in our ecosystems. In essence, we believe how we make money should matter the most, not how we spend it. 

As a board member of several foundations, I carry various fiduciary responsibilities. Some time ago, I committed to holding myself to a standard of accountability that surpasses legal requirements by asking, ”If nature held this board seat instead of me, how would it vote? Would it approve this investment of our foundation's capital?” What started as an intellectual exercise to align decisions with deeper values has since evolved into the guiding principle of our operational policy.

Unsurprisingly, in most jurisdictions, nature cannot be formally appointed to corporate or non-profit boards. However, we can appoint directors to serve as ‘nature guardians’ – individuals empowered to represent nature and vote on its behalf, provided they possess the requisite expertise. Their role is to ensure that boards consider the environmental impact of the company or charity on nature. 

I worked to define the duties and responsibilities of the ‘nature guardian’ in the terms of reference and contract with the appointed person. In a corporate context, this requires also amending the articles of association and determining the scope of the nature guardian's reporting obligations to the board – but it is feasible.

In my view, the main limitation of this model for representing nature is the burden placed on a single individual. I envision this role evolving within our ecosystem by rotating it among different people, each bringing their unique expertise in service of nature.

How do you see the role of philanthropy evolving in the next decade to support this vision? 

The lines dividing philanthropy from other industries will continue to blur. We are already witnessing public, private and philanthropic partnerships, so-called 4P models, where philanthropic entities are integrated into traditional P3 delivery mechanisms. Notable examples of such models include the 100 Resilient Cities initiative by the Rockefeller Foundation or Kenya's M-Pesa Financial Inclusion Ecosystem.

The corporate world finally understands that philanthropies can be powerful allies in tackling the planetary emergency. They have longer time horizons, higher risk tolerance, intergenerational and justice perspectives and so much more to offer. On the other hand, philanthropic organisations themselves are looking inward. Difficult conversations are taking place about the decolonisation of wealth and the end of philanthropy as a tax shelter for the wealthy. 

My greatest challenge in moving the philanthropies I am involved with towards regeneration revolves around questions of power and impact. Perhaps philanthropies aiming for regeneration should abandon authority and control and instead act on principles of reciprocity, such as those found in natural systems. Does moving forward mean ceding power, for example not being in charge of selecting the enterprises to support? If the future of philanthropy is human, as we believe it is, should the beneficiaries be the only ones to determine how, when and where to use the designated resources? 

Closely tied to power is the question of impact and who gets to define what it means. Assessing success in philanthropic efforts can be subjective, with definitions of impact often formed within echo chambers that overlook the critical perspectives of those most directly affected by the issues at hand. 

Most recently, I have been contemplating whether our philanthropic ecosystem should focus on preserving its capital indefinitely or work towards redistributing resources in a way that ultimately makes it obsolete, fostering a network of mutual stewardship. I have created a regulatory sandbox with partners to live-test one innovative solution. Let’s see what lessons we can learn from one another. 

What is your personal vision for a regenerative future? 

It is a future of complete synergy between nature and humanity. I see human innovation and nature’s processes becoming one while recognising that the interconnected whole is much greater than the sum of its parts. However, the challenge with innovation lies in its ability to reshape the world fast, without democratic consent – that is, the consent of the people it impacts. We must remain ever mindful of the fundamental importance of participatory governance in shaping a just and sustainable future for all. 

In this new regenerative world, we grow products made from CO2 via carbon-degrading technology. 

After humans finish consuming the item, the product returns to the soil to grow, for example, an edible fruit plant. Before we get there, however, I am profoundly concerned by the far-reaching impact of escalating geopolitical volatility worldwide – across industries, supply chains, and asset classes. As states, ecosystems, and the global economy unravel before our eyes, the fragile thread of world peace grows ever more tenuous.

We cannot find peace among ourselves without also finding peace with the larger entity from which we originate – life, nature. So how we live matters enormously. Changing the world requires us to live, relate, produce and consume in fundamentally different ways. Regeneration urges us to recognise that what is existential for the planet is equally existential for ourselves.

To read the previous piece in Regenerative Futures series: “Rooted in Wisdom” by Lua Couto click here and to read the next piece “How soil, communities and law can save our future” by Sumru Ramsey click here.