Here’s what I do know; that day in the mall, watching all the shoppers shuffle in and out of JC Penney, I couldn’t help but think this is the inevitable fallout of our relentless consumption. The companies that once shaped entire industries are now running on fumes, desperately trying to maintain store footprints and pumping out product pipelines so quickly that there was no way they could be resilient in times of economic downturn.

This week, I’m letting you in on a family secret. I’m not quite sure how my husband will feel about me sharing it so publicly, but I can’t help but share something that has profoundly impacted my life.

For nearly 10 years, my husband has been telling me the same thing: Do less.

In the wake of major corporations scaling back their DEI initiatives, denial of climate change amidst Los Angeles' catastrophic wildfires, and the ushering in of a new era under Trump, it’s clear we progressives need to face a hard truth: it’s time to come to terms—literally.

The language we are using is limiting our reach to broader audiences and isolating our ability to make effective, wide spread change.

What some people don't know about forest fires and trees. Arm yourself with these surprising facts about the science and resilience of trees to set the record straight. (Then get your loved one some glasses and take their phone away.)

Centralized urban planning, once hailed as a modern solution, isn’t aging well. While it was designed for efficiency, it limits a community’s adaptability and resilience. Centralized urban planning emerged during periods of rapid growth, fueled by industrialization and urban migration.

The Crocodile Hunter, corporate greenwashing, and fun facts. Buckle up, I’ve got a lot in here: “I want to save the world, and you know, money—money's great. I can't get enough money. And you know what I'm gonna do with it? I'm gonna buy wilderness areas with it. Every single cent I get goes straight into conservation. And guess what? I don't give a rip whose money it is, mate. I'll use it, and I'll spend it on buying land.”

Back in the day, I taught science to preschoolers. Every week, I would lead a 45-minute activity introducing concepts like polymers, buoyancy, electrical circuits, and chlorophyll. The key was using scientific language—real terms—not watered-down versions. My job was to define the terms clearly but not shy away from their complexity.

The idea of simplifying bathrooms by removing gendered labels is a perfect example of what’s known as the curb cut effect—a principle that highlights how solutions designed to help a specific group often end up benefiting everyone.

She couldn’t believe it. For the rest of the trip, she loudly declared, “That’s plastic. That’s trash. That’s going in the hole.” Every aisle. Every shelf. At first, I was mortified. Her voice carried, and other shoppers definitely noticed. She wasn’t wrong, of course, but her unfiltered commentary was a little, well, embarrassing.