Playing the Long Game for Nature: Kaaren Lewis Finds Hope in Collective Action

In conservation, progress rarely arrives overnight. It unfolds over years, sometimes decades, through relationships built patiently, trust earned carefully and sharing a commitment to a future that no single person will ever fully see.

“The stars were sort of aligning,” Kaaren says. “It was the biggest investment that I’d ever seen in my career for conservation purposes. The fact that it was dealing with biodiversity, climate and reconciliation all at once felt like the only way to move forward.” 

Time after time, Kaaren found herself inspired by the willingness of people to share knowledge openly and work toward common goals. “There was very quick chemistry,” she recalls. “A lot of open, transparent sharing. It’s been one of the pleasures of the work.” 

That spirit of collaboration has become one of the defining values of the B.C. Conservation Fund. Rather than acting alone, the fund works alongside a diverse network of partners, including Indigenous Nations, conservation organizations, philanthropic foundations and public agencies. Trust, transparency and shared purpose, Kaaren says, are essential ingredients for success.

One project that exemplifies those values is taking place in Clayoquot Sound. Long regarded as an iconic landscape because of its globally significant coastal temperate rainforest and old-growth ecosystems, the region reflects many of the priorities that guide the B.C. Conservation Fund’s investments. For Kaaren, who began her conservation career during the era of the “War in the Woods” protests against logging, Clayoquot Sound has occupied a special place in her imagination for decades. 

Early on, the fund contributed to long-term stewardship support for the region, complementing work that had been initiated, and continues to be led, by Indigenous Nations. 

“We don’t feel in any way responsible for the wonderful outcome,” she says. “It was just important to be able to contribute to the funding need there.” That humility reflects a broader lesson she has learned throughout her career: conservation is fundamentally a long game. “You can’t find a successful conservation project that hasn’t been in the works for 10 or 20 years,” Lewis says. “Everything we do every day is hopefully inching things toward the right decisions.” 

Despite the scale of environmental challenges facing Canada and the world, she remains deeply optimistic. Much of that hope comes from seeing what happens when communities, Indigenous leaders, scientists, funders and advocates come together around a shared vision.

“Every conversation leaves me feeling hopeful,” she says. “We’ve started something. We’re helping with something. It’s good work. It’s meaningful.” 

In many cases, she explains, success cannot be measured solely by protected-area designations. The process itself creates value through relationship-building, capacity, knowledge-sharing and opportunities for Nations to spend time on the land and reconnect with places that hold deep cultural significance. 

Asked what advice she would offer to others who want to make a lasting difference for nature, Kaaren returns to the themes that have guided her career: Be patient enough to embrace the long game; celebrate each step; invest in relationships; stay grounded in your values; and when an opportunity arises to help move conservation forward, lean into it.

“If you think you’ve got something that can really contribute, lean into it even when there are headwinds,” she says. “Trust yourself.” 

At a time when environmental challenges can feel overwhelming, Kaaren believes hope is found not in grand gestures but in collective action: people from different backgrounds, organizations and communities working together to care for the places they love.

“It’s absolutely foundational to our survival,” Kaaren says of conservation. “But it’s also foundational to our well-being, our health and our communities. In a world that can feel very uncertain, this is where I find hope.”