We know real change takes time, but time is exactly what we don’t have.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

In the many conversations I’ve had over recent years with people working to restore and regenerate land and communities, the question of time comes up constantly. The prevailing view tends to be that change cannot be rushed, that it requires steadiness, patience, and careful observation. I deeply respect this perspective. Working with marginalised communities demands sensitivity and trust built slowly. Natural landscapes operate on their own timescales; certain ecosystems, particularly those approaching climax succession, can take decades or centuries to establish themselves.

However, we also need change, and we need it fast. Not hasty change, careless intervention can undo years of progress in both human and ecological systems. But urgent, purposeful, well-directed action. There is a difference between pace and haste.

The uncomfortable truth is that shifting human behaviour has historically taken generations. Cultural change moves slowly, embeds deeply, and resists pressure. But we don’t have generations. So the real question becomes: how do we honour the genuine need for slowness in certain processes, while dramatically accelerating others? How do we act with urgency without causing the very harm we’re trying to prevent?

That tension between necessary patience and necessary speed, might be the defining challenge of this work.

I would love to know your thoughts and perspective on this topic, as it comes up as a contentious point between people trying to make positive impact often.

I understand that a lot of people in these fields working to create positive change have accepted collapse, so that would position yourself already from a different starting point…