The World Gathers to Preserve Biodiversity: Insights From My Experience at the IUCN Congress
By Paul-Emile Pissier
In October 2025, thanks to the support of CIERP, I had the opportunity to travel to Abu Dhabi, UAE to attend the International Union for Conservation of Nature (IUCN) World Conservation Congress (WCC).
A Global Gathering for Nature
Once every four years, the IUCN organizes a global gathering where conservationists, government representatives, NGOs, businesses, Indigenous leaders, activists, and scientists from across the world cross paths in the same corridors in a rare convergence of worldviews around one shared purpose: protecting life on Earth.
Inside the gigantic halls of the Abu Dhabi National Exhibition Centre (ADNEC), the Congress offered a forum alongside an exhibition during its first half, before IUCN members gathered in plenary sessions to discuss and vote the motions during its second half. The forum was a knowledge platform on the science, practices and innovation of conservation and nature protection. Through thematic sessions, it addressed the multifaceted economic, social, scientific, and technical aspects of a wide range of issues from wildlife and protected areas to oceans, land use, human rights, and COP30 preparation. In an adjacent part of the ADNEC, the exhibition served as a platform of exchange where more than 140 exhibitors (including IUCN members and commissions, NGOs, businesses, and institutional networks) showcased their research, innovations, and conservation projects.
At a time when biodiversity is collapsing faster than ever and very few people seem to truly measure the scale of the disaster, it was impressive and energizing to be around so many people engaged in the safeguarding ecosystems, humans, and animals.
Inside the Congress: Between Engaging Dialogues and Dissonances
Walking through the vast halls of the Congress, conversations oscillated between moral imperatives in the face of planetary urgency, presentations of technical conservation tools, and cautious attempts at inclusivity.
On Protected Areas and Good Governance
Setting standards for and managing protected areas is one of IUCN’s core missions. Despite a global goal of protecting 30% of Earth by 2030, more than 300,000 protected areas existing in 2025 only cover about 17% of land and 8% of oceans; and the latter figure falls to roughly 3% if we exclude paper parks: areas protected in name but not in practice.
I attended several collaborative sessions and panels on protected areas, from good governance and coherent planning to efficient management. I discovered the backstage of the Green List label, a standard by which IUCN certifies the management quality and governance efficiency of parks.
It was interesting to see how stakeholder inclusion is central to the good governance criteria. Yet when I asked whether the protected nature itself was considered a stakeholder, the answer was a timorous no. Earlier in the Congress, I had heard a quote that in this context made me smile ironically: “If there is no relationship with what is being governed, then it is government, not governance.” That sentence lingered as a reminder of how often conservation frameworks still separate humans from the very ecosystems they aim to protect.
On Rights of Nature
Over the past decade, roughly 50 years after the publication of Stone’s famous article, the recognition of Rights of Nature, and its legal and political implications has been the topic of many theoretical debates and symbolic declarations. As it is one of the core elements of my research at Fletcher, I was eager to learn more about it at the WCC.
One particularly fascinating panel, ‘Operationalizing the Rights of Nature in the Territories,’ explored how governments and local communities can plan human activities in synergy with the rights of ecosystems. In this regard, the presentation of the concept of ‘natural legal entity’ status by French researcher Victor David was eye-opening. He explained how the incorporation of this new category of subject of law in the French Code Civil would transform the legal frameworks inherited from the Roman Summa Divisio, and foster the recognition of natural entities for their intrinsic, cultural, or spiritual worth.
However, it was also interesting to hear that following past criticisms that IUCN prioritized nature over people, some Indigenous Peoples voiced concern that Western-style Rights of Nature laws could once again lead to their exclusion from ancestral lands under new legal pretexts.
On Indigenous Worldviews in Conservation
My capstone project at Fletcher focuses on revitalizing European Cultural and Ecological Heritage through a comparison with Indigenous stewardship of nature in North America. It was therefore among my main goals at the WCC to learn directly from Indigenous voices.
As part of the WCC, the IUCN was proud to host a dedicated high-level Indigenous Summit alongside the first-ever Indigenous Pavilion—a milestone in the recognition of Indigenous rights, leadership, and knowledge in environmental stewardship. Indigenous Peoples are not peripheral stakeholders in conservation, but rightful stewards of life on Earth.
As knowledge keepers, guardians of ancestral territories, and visionaries of sustainability, Indigenous leaders stand at the heart of conservation initiatives and action to shape a future rooted in relational care and respect for all living beings. And yet, I was struck by a paradox. While everyone praised the importance of inclusion, very few non-Indigenous participants attended the Pavilion sessions. Beyond the speeches, authentic dialogue still seemed to require courage and humility.
I attended various panels at the Pavillion and had the opportunity to have deep discussions with several Indigenous speakers. We discussed the sacredness of lands and the importance of nurturing relationships with the rest of the natural world. Humans are indeed part of nature, while other species, both biotic and abiotic entities are our kin. One speaker said something that resonated deeply: that relationships are about trouble. Thus, if one wants everything to be clean, polished and perfectly planned, it means everything is already dead. This sentence echoed my research and captured the feeling I have long felt on the matter: spirituality and emotions are the roots of conservation. And they have been disregarded and neglected by Western science. But caring for the natural world is not about protecting it from our actions with distance, it can only be about nurturing meaningful relationships with it.
The Lessons I Take Home
Looking back on what I’ve lived and experienced at the Congress, I will remember several lessons for my academic work and professional pathway as well as for my personal life.
On Conservation Initiatives and Behavior
Facing the 6th planetary mass extinction, putting conservation efforts at scale is absolutely necessary. Species are going extinct at unprecedented rates, so it is more urgent than ever to place biodiversity at the core of every political, business, or community engagement and project. However, conservation efforts alone won’t save the planet. Real change happens when it comes from within, when people genuinely feel a moving force to transform their habits for better respect and care.
During a plenary session, Robert Ian Bonnick said “ancient cultures hold the key to the challenges we are facing.” This quote captures the essence of my capstone research and reminds us that genuine sustainability will not come from technological innovations or better conservation management practices, but from resonance with cultural identity within a territory and with its ecosystems. This is a powerful thing Western peoples have to learn from Indigenous cultures.
On Conservation as a Work Field and Professional Ambition
My main goal at the Congress was to network with conservation professionals to hopefully secure a job for when I graduate. The different people I talked with told me how difficult it is for the sector in these times. This will make my job search tougher, because there are very few open positions; but above all it made me realize how important it is to support NGOs and conservation efforts in an era of terrifying environmental backlash and disinterest.
On Attending a Global Summit
I was very skeptical on how encounters and conversations in this kind of international Congress truly shape collaborations that can lead to genuine environmental progress. To be honest, I am still not sure to what extent this is true. Nevertheless, now that I’ve experienced it, I can say that the energy I felt in the place revived my optimism. In spite of some political greenwashing (when I hear the French Ambassador for the Environment explaining how committed her government is to protect biodiversity, I can only smile nervously), being surrounded by more than ten thousand people who know that there is no other way that to repair, protect and care for nature was a dopamine shot I needed.
Extra Lesson: On Taking a 13-hour Flight to Attend an Environmental Conference
When I began considering whether to attend the WCC, the question of the flight inevitably arose. For a couple years now, I’ve been fighting any argument that tries to downplay how problematic long-distance travel is. My goal here is not to argue in favor of the stance I’ve been fighting for years, nor to justify my choice of embarking on a 13-hour flight to attend the WCC. It is rather an attempt to lay out and write down my reflections on the matter and hopefully, by sharing them, to encourage two kinds of readers: those who never question their flights to start doing so, and those who never allow themselves to fly to take a step back and let go of the guilt when they occasionally do.
Globally, aviation accounts for about 2.5% of all human-caused CO₂ emissions. And this figure only captures carbon dioxide—when the non-CO₂ effects of flying are included, aviation’s contribution to total human-induced warming rises to roughly 3.5% to 5% To put this in personal terms: the global “fair share” of emissions compatible with the Paris Agreement is about 2 tonnes of CO₂-equivalent per person per year. A single long-haul round-trip flight, like Boston to Abu Dhabi, emits around 3 tonnes of CO₂-equivalent per passenger—in other words, such a trip wipes out an individual’s entire annual carbon budget. For many in wealthy regions of the world, air travel is framed as an almost inalienable right—the freedom to move around the world. But it is important to bear in mind that the main carbon emitters are the wealthiest populations, while the first victims of the consequences of climate change are and will remain people who, for the most part, have never been on an airplane. Indeed, between 80% and 90% of the world population never boarded an airplane while only 1% emits roughly half of CO2 from commercial aviation.
Whenever I have the opportunity to travel, I choose low carbon means of transportation. I went twice to Montreal from Boston last year for example, and I took the bus—I did not even consider flying. When considering an overseas trip; one can’t legitimately say that there is no alternative to the plane. Indeed, when one has the above-recalled carbon figures in mind, the alternative to going overseas by plane is not going at all.
So, when I weighed the decision to attend the WCC, I was profoundly hesitant because of the paradox I was facing between attending a global environmental congress but having to fly across half the globe for it.
The IUCN had made mandatory the compensation of the WCC participants’ flight by paying a proportionate gift to selected carbon-positive projects. Even though this is a great thing to do, offsetting is often only an illusion. Who would agree to have their knee deliberately broken if the aggressor promised to pay the hospital and recovery costs afterwards? It is the same with our planet: tentative repair never cancels harm. And yet, I decided to go. Not because I thought this flight was worth it because it was for some good cause—after all, my presence there would make absolutely no difference in the political outcome of the negotiations. Instead, I envisioned this opportunity as a sort of carbon investment. Was it worth it? I think a humble answer can only be no. But it is now my responsibility, and I will put all the efforts I can in, to build on the connections and knowledge I gained from this trip to have a positive impact on the health of our planet and its people in my future work and life.
The only sustainable stance, I think, is lucid responsibility: being aware and recognizing the true cost of our actions (here: flying), acting where the impact is worth it, and refusing normalized excesses. While I did take that flight, I will continue to question—and, most of the time, avoid—every future one.
Acknowledgments
I wanted to thank Pr. Charles Chester, my capstone advisor, who encouraged me to attend the Congress and guided me on the spot. I am also profoundly grateful to Jillian DeStone, the CIERP team and the FEEF donors for their support in making this trip possible.
Paul-Emile Pissier is a MALD student specializing in environmental policy and ecological diplomacy, currently completing a dual-degree program with HEC Paris' Master in Management. Inspired by Indigenous environmental stewardship in North America, his work focuses on reconnecting European history, landscapes, and ecosystems.