Yeah, it's a big question — a really complex one. And I think part of what makes it so complex is that we still need basic acknowledgement before anything else. We need recognition of the need for climate reparations in order for the right research to even begin — research that can help us understand what reparations would actually look like in practice.

We also need the infrastructure to figure out what mechanisms would require corporations to contribute, especially within this very tangled global system of importing and exporting. For example, many countries produce the minerals that make renewable technologies possible, or they export oil, yet the pollution or the consequences often originate elsewhere. It’s all part of a deeply interconnected and entangled web.

I'm humble enough to say I don’t have the full answer for how we untangle that web. But I do think a crucial first step is simply acknowledging it — because that’s the only way we can begin to mobilize toward real solutions.

It's a very hard one. But something I will say is that one small victory, at least in comparison to something like the transatlantic trafficking of enslaved Africans — where slave owners received reparations for losing their so-called property — is that today we aren’t seeing conversations about paying reparations to oil companies for the ‘losses’ they might face from transitioning to renewables. That alone is a win. If this were another era, that might have been the conversation. So that’s a little brownie point.

It is a tangled web, but we are slowly unpicking it. And sometimes all it takes is a tipping point — like the ICJ decision — to make policy conversations move faster.

You asked about community, and I think there’s something we’ve seen with, for example, the Palestine protests or Pride: communities coming together for a shared cause, standing with others in solidarity even when the issue doesn’t directly affect them.

Have I seen examples of that in the climate space?
Massively. For example, at Friends of the Earth there’s a project called Planet Over Profit, which partners with communities in Indonesia facing the impacts of palm oil extraction. Communities in the UK have shown real solidarity with people on the ground.

I'd say that within the climate justice space there is a lot of solidarity. The difficulty sometimes is that solidarity can be framed as mere ‘allyship,’ rather than people — especially those of us in places like the UK, the belly of the beast — using our privilege to be part of the action rather than cheering from the sidelines.

When it comes to climate action planning, I actually see solidarity show up more through organisations or individuals rather than through coordinated organising groups. So, for example, my involvement with Friends of the Earth is connected to grassroots organising, but most of what I see relates to organisational climate action planning, not broad cross-movement organising.

Sometimes international partnerships do feature. For instance, one art organisation I worked with in Gloucester included artists — including one from Palestine — to explore the Palestinian experience. That work became part of their outreach and movement-building and helped link climate and social issues. But that kind of international collaboration doesn’t always appear in formal climate action plans. A lot of it depends on the organisation’s capacity and context.

When we talk about meaningful allyship, I actually see it as a bit of an oxymoron, especially when you compare allyship to solidarity. Solidarity means being part of the movement, not cheering from the sidelines — especially when you’re operating from the ‘belly of the beast,’ like in the UK.

So for me, meaningful allyship is solidarity. It means being actively involved in campaigns. A clear example of the difference is pinkwashing: meaningful solidarity might be organising equality initiatives for LGBTQ+ youth or creating spaces for communities to tell their stories. ‘Allyship,’ on the other hand, might look like a company changing its logo to a rainbow for one month of the year. There’s a big difference between those two.

Yeah, I think imagination is so important for the climate crisis, but also for wider social issues. And I think it's especially important for young people. We’re living in a technological age where young people use social media so much, but the algorithms are designed so they only see two things:

1. an echo chamber of what they already believe, and

2. content that triggers strong responses – often grief or anger.

So young people can get stuck in a loop of seeing posts that make them feel hopeless or in despair. And because of that, they’re starting to lose this natural skill of imagination that used to come so easily.

When working with youth, I almost think of imagination as a way of reconnecting individuals to themselves – reconnecting them to the natural instincts they have about how the world could be. And it’s really interesting to watch young people process that.

I remember once facilitating a session for Bristol Old Vic, and one of the young people said they felt like they were “glitching” between two possible worlds:
– one where communities come together and create beautiful, community-led change,
– and another shaped by what they see in the media, full of grief and despair.

So sometimes the work is helping young people navigate that glitching – helping them process it and find some sense of agency in deciding which world they want to move toward.

Mm-hmm. Yeah. So a lot of my nature connection work is motivated by the desire to plant that initial seed – the seed of reconnecting with the world. When everyone is so disconnected, it can be hard to even imagine connection.

I remember when I was younger, social media created a sense of disconnection because young people felt lonely seeing what their friends were doing. But now we’re in a completely different realm: people are living in very different worlds, with different conceptions of what’s happening around them. It’s a new kind of isolation we haven’t seen before.

Much of the nature connection work is about feeling more connected to oneself and to the world around you. Within a community space, we encourage interactions that are vulnerable and heart-to-heart, allowing people to connect beyond surface-level interactions.

This work aims to plant that initial seed that helps young people – and communities of all ages – reconnect with themselves. In doing so, they find a sense of meaning and motivation to care for and regenerate the world. Through this process, they become grounded – to each other, to themselves, and to nature. It’s a win on all fronts.