Post-Disturbance Futures: Reflections from the 9th American Forest Congress
I recently had the chance to attend the 9th American Forest Congress, representing both my new venture Interface and the Environmental Policy Innovation Center (EPIC). It was bittersweet.
Bittersweet because just a few months ago, I was still on the inside working in federal land management, trying to shape the future from within government. I showed up every day with urgency about where technology, policy, and society were headed. I advocated for AI literacy, environmental data modernization, and cross-sector collaboration. But few around me believed that AI, or any emerging technology, was more than a passing trend. I wasn’t heard. I felt, at times, like I was shouting into the void.
And then I stepped away. Not from public service, but from the part of it that made meaningful change feel impossible.
So walking into the Forest Congress this year, no longer a federal employee, was deeply emotional. There was sadness, but also clarity - everything I’d been trying to voice was finally being discussed - just from the outside.
A Rare and Historic Gathering
For those unfamiliar, the American Forest Congress doesn’t happen often. In fact, there have only been nine since 1882. Each one marks a kind of turning point.
The first Forest Congress helped set the stage for a national approach to conservation.
Later ones helped give rise to the Forest Service, the Civilian Conservation Corps, and landmark legislation like NEPA (1970) and NFMA (1976).
These gatherings don’t just talk—they tend to move things.
This year’s Congress was no exception. The energy was palpable: a mix of cross-sector leaders, tribal representatives, young foresters, agency veterans, and tech entrepreneurs. There was an undercurrent of “something has to change” - and fast.
The Unexpected Value of Disturbance
One of the most impactful moments for me came in a quiet conversation with a keynote speaker. She spoke about the value of post-disturbance states - how, ecologically speaking, not all disturbance is bad. Sometimes, it clears the way for transformation. But often, what emerges in the transformation is unlike what existed before.
That idea has stayed with me. Because I think we’re in a post-disturbance moment, not just ecologically, but institutionally.
It made me reflect on the work I’ve been doing at Interface: crafting a new environmental ethic that doesn’t just aim to restore ecosystems to a former state, but acknowledges the need to design for future conditions. Sometimes, that means geoengineering landscapes for resilience. Sometimes, it means welcoming emerging technologies - not to dominate nature, but to understand and coexist with it differently.
Where Was AI?
The one thing I found conspicuously absent from most sessions (yet embedded in each person’s pocket)? Artificial Intelligence.
I don’t mean in a “tech for tech’s sake” way. I mean real conversations about:
How AI will reshape land management
How it will impact stewardship values
How it changes the nature of the workforce
How it challenges our governance structures
There were glimmers, small moments of interest. A few of us found each other and asked the harder questions. But mostly, AI floated in the background, unnamed. And that’s risky - these systems are already being adopted in ways that undermine environmental ethics, or even democratic processes. We must guide their development.
Stewardship vs. Management
Something else that surfaced again and again: the split between land management and environmental stewardship. It’s a subtle but important distinction, and one I’ve been thinking a lot about.
Land management is often about meeting targets, maintaining productivity, or complying with regulatory frameworks.
Stewardship is about care, ethics, interdependence, and responsibility across generations and ecosystems.
We often conflate the two, but they lead to very different kinds of decisions. Especially when we’re talking about technology integration. Are we managing for efficiency? Or stewarding for resilience?
This question is foundational to how Interface is approaching our work and how I think the environmental sector needs to reframe its digital future.
Voices of the Future
One of the most meaningful conversations I had was with a young woman representing the Society of American Foresters. She told me that my decision to leave government wasn’t a failure - it was leadership. She reminded me that empathy, not efficiency, might be our greatest tool in this moment of cultural drift and anti-humanist sentiment. I needed to hear that. For the four months I stayed within government, acting out of my value-alignment, I felt terrorized. That was the intent. This young woman recentered me, and I am forever grateful for her courage and presence.
It was also clear from the panels on workforce development that we’re not doing nearly enough to build real pathways for the next generation. People talked about the need for “modern skills,” but few offered a strategy to get there. That’s work I’m committed to: developing future-oriented skills taxonomies, partnering with certification and licensure bodies, and helping environmental professionals prepare for roles that don’t exist yet, but soon will.
What I’m Taking Forward
I came back from the Congress with a renewed sense of direction, and a few concrete next steps:
Interface will continue building tools and training frameworks that bridge stewardship and digital modernization. We're focused on AI literacy, future skills, and value-aligned technology adoption.
I’ll be offering free consultations for mission-driven startups navigating government partnerships because I spent nearly a decade in the public sector and I know how daunting that interface can be.
I’m developing a GovTech toolkit to help small orgs understand public sector dynamics while respecting the cultural and policy landscape of government - not bulldozing through it.
At EPIC, I’ll be pushing for a shift from “awareness” to actionable policy innovation, clarifying what true innovation requires, what’s standing in the way, and how we safeguard democratic values in the age of tech acceleration.
I’ll also be diving deeper into how federalism itself is changing under technological and political pressure and what that means for environmental governance and information systems.
Don’t Throw Out the System
One thing I heard repeatedly at the Congress was frustration with government - particularly around slowness, complexity, and bureaucracy. I get it. I lived it.
But I’m wary of how easily that frustration can slip into language that romanticizes tearing it all down.
If we hollow out our public institutions and replace them with private or technocratic control, we lose more than process - we lose the core ideals of representation, accountability, and equity. Democracy is slow on purpose. It’s one of the last guardrails we have.
We must be careful not to discard it in the name of speed.
“To make peace with the land, we must first make peace with our tools.”
I believe the future of environmental stewardship depends on us building new tools, new systems, and new mindsets without losing sight of what we’re here to protect.
If you’re working at the intersection of environment, technology, and ethics - let’s talk.