A reading-group guide

The book argues that protecting nature is in our economic interest as well as the right thing to do. How persuasive do you find that pairing, and where might the two motivations pull in different directions?

Parks like Kanha and Komodo were protected through a model that often kept people at arm’s length from the land. What might a fairer approach look like, and who should help shape it?

The book speaks of a case that appeals to “both the head and the heart.” Which spoke to you more as you began reading, and had that shifted by the end?

Do you think markets for “ecosystem services” such as carbon are likely to scale to the level needed, or does the greater opportunity lie in transforming the core activities that degrade nature, like agriculture and heavy industry? Where would you put your effort?

When carbon finance reaches a place like Ciénaga Grande, a lot depends on who holds the money and makes the calls. How would you want the benefits, and the say, shared between communities, governments and investors?

A mangrove is a home and a memory as much as a store of carbon. What is gained, and what might quietly be lost, when we describe it mainly by the carbon it holds?

Ecotourism can make a living reef or forest worth more standing than gone. Where do you think that model adds up well, and where does it struggle?

Tourism brings income, and it brings outside influence. How should communities such as those around Viani Bay balance the two, and what would help them stay in the driving seat?

Many of us travel a long way to feel close to nature. Is there a tension between that wish and the footprint of getting there, and how do you sit with it?

Knepp turned a struggling farm into a working example of rewilding. What do you think it would take for approaches like this to make financial sense for more farmers and landowners?

“Make room for nature” and “feed a growing world” are often set against each other. Where in the chapter did that feel like a false choice to you, and where did the trade-off feel real?

Rewilding asks us to step back and let a landscape find its own shape. How comfortable are you with that loss of control, and what do you think we gain by allowing it?

Freetown began counting and valuing its trees, and Singapore designs nature into the city. What would it take for your own city to treat green space as infrastructure worth investing in?

Access to urban nature is often uneven across a city. Whose neighbourhoods tend to get the parks and the shade, and how might that be made fairer?

What does a single street tree, or a patch of green on your commute, do for you day to day? How much should that quiet value count in a city’s plans?

The book holds that nature is “priceless, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t also have value.” Do you find that a workable basis for decisions, and where might putting a number on nature help, or mislead?

Once nature has a price, someone decides how it is measured and who gets paid. How do we keep that power accountable, and what, if anything, should stay outside the market?

Are there parts of the natural world you feel should never be valued in money, whatever the practical case? What sits on that list for you, and why?

New tools, from environmental DNA to satellites, can bring the measurement and trust that markets for nature rely on. Which do you think will matter most, and where might the data still fall short?

Better monitoring can hold powerful actors to account, and it can also concentrate information in a few hands. How would you want that knowledge shared and governed?

When a sensor can read a river from a cupful of water, what might we stop noticing for ourselves? Is there something worth keeping in our own direct attention to nature?

The chapter looks at turning the tools of finance towards restoration. Which instrument, from carbon credits to emerging biodiversity credits, struck you as most promising, and which felt least proven?

Financial innovation can move money at scale, and it can outrun the rules meant to keep it honest. How do we guard against greenwashing while still letting useful ideas grow?

Could turning nature into an asset change how we relate to it over time? How would you keep the deeper reasons for protection in view?

At Selenkay, Maasai communities trade some control over their land for income and security. What makes an exchange like that a fair one in your eyes?

The book is candid about conservation’s history of excluding Indigenous peoples. What would genuine partnership, as opposed to consultation, look like in practice?

Many Indigenous worldviews treat nature as kin rather than resource. What might the rest of us learn from that, and how could it change everyday choices?

Looking across the whole book, which economic idea do you now find most convincing, and which would you want to stress-test before relying on it?

If you could change one rule, incentive or policy to help nature and people together, what would it be, and who would need to act?

Christiana Figueres describes hers as a “stubborn optimism.” By the last page, where does your own hope sit, and what would it take to keep it alive this decade?