Jane Goodall (1934 – 2025): The Woman Who Taught Humanity to See

Few scientists have so gently, and so completely, changed the way the world sees itself. Jane Goodall, who has died at 91, was not merely the world’s most famous primatologist; she was the conscience of an age that had to relearn its relationship with the living world. Through her patient observations of chimpanzees in the forests of Gombe, she redrew the boundary between human and animal—replacing it not with a line but with a mirror.

When Goodall first stepped onto the red soil of what was then Tanganyika in 1960, she was a young Englishwoman with no formal scientific degree and little more than a field notebook, a pair of binoculars, and a restless curiosity. The scientific establishment doubted her from the start: she was a woman, untrained, and unorthodox. Yet Louis Leakey, the famed paleoanthropologist, saw in her what few others did—a mind unburdened by convention, and a capacity for patience that could outlast the forest itself. What she lacked in credentials, she made up for in imagination and empathy.

In those early months she endured long days of solitude, the chimpanzees vanishing at the first hint of her presence. Then came the moment that would define her life. Sitting quietly one afternoon near a clearing, she watched as an older male chimpanzee—later named David Greybeard—approached a termite mound. He broke off a twig, stripped it of its leaves, and used it to fish for insects. Goodall’s heart raced. A non-human animal had just made and used a tool—something science had long claimed was uniquely human. “We must now redefine man,” Leakey told her when she reported the discovery, “or accept chimpanzees as human.”

Her revolution, though, went beyond that single observation. Where others numbered their subjects, Goodall named them—David Greybeard, Flo, Fifi—recognizing individuality where science had insisted there was none. She refused to deny emotion, tenderness, and grief when she saw them. To her critics, that was sentimentality; to Goodall, it was truth. Her journals chronicled not only tool use but social bonds, power struggles, and mourning—the full range of primate life. In doing so, she gave the scientific world a vocabulary of empathy. The chimpanzees were no longer shadows of humanity’s instincts; they were kin, each with a story of their own.

Beyond the forest, Goodall became an unexpected pioneer for women in science. In a discipline still dominated by men, she forged a path defined not by confrontation but by quiet defiance. She proved that intuition, patience, and compassion—traits once dismissed as feminine weaknesses—could be powerful scientific tools. Her success opened the door for a generation of women who saw in her a living argument that curiosity and conviction mattered more than pedigree. To countless young scientists, she was proof that there was no single mold for what a researcher should look or sound like.

Her influence widened into environmentalism, long before the term became fashionable. In 1977 she founded the Jane Goodall Institute, blending research with conservation and community engagement. She argued that protecting wildlife was inseparable from improving human lives. Her “Roots & Shoots” program, launched in 1991, gave young people around the world the tools to act locally for the planet—proof that the empathy she found in the forest could be taught, not just felt.

Over the decades, Goodall’s voice—soft but firm—became one of moral authority. She travelled tirelessly, often more than 300 days a year, urging action for forests, animals, and the climate. Her message was neither apocalyptic nor naïve: it was a call for courage and cooperation. She embodied a form of activism that was not loud but enduring—a science anchored in love, and a love disciplined by observation.

Jane Goodall’s legacy lies not only in what she discovered, but in what she taught us to notice. Before her, animals were objects of study. After her, they were neighbours in a shared moral world. She made empathy scientific and curiosity revolutionary.

Her life was a long act of listening—to the forest, to the animals, and to the questions that hum quietly beneath the canopy of existence. She leaves behind not only a body of research but a way of seeing, and for countless women in science and environmentalism, a map of what is possible. In the end, her greatest discovery was not about chimpanzees—it was about ourselves, and the grace that comes from recognizing we are part of, not apart from, the rest of life.

Unmaking the Green Revolution? The "Big Beautiful Bill" and America's renewable energy investment

A new legislative push from House Republicans—dubbed the “One Big Beautiful Bill”—seeks to dismantle core pillars of the Inflation Reduction Act (IRA), a signature Biden-era law responsible for catalysing an unprecedented boom in renewable energy investment across the United States. The bill, passed by the House in May, proposes an accelerated repeal of clean energy tax credits and incentives. Its prospects in the Senate remain uncertain. But the signal is clear: the politics of America’s energy transition remain as volatile as the climate it hopes to influence.

A Shortened Lifespan for Long-Term Incentives

Chief among the bill’s provisions is the truncation of key tax credits that have underpinned the growth of clean energy. These include the Clean Electricity Production and Investment Credits (Sections 45Y and 48E), which are now slated to vanish for any project that does not begin construction within 60 days of the bill’s enactment or enter service by the end of 2028.

Also on the chopping block are credits supporting advanced manufacturing and clean transport—most notably those for electric vehicles and battery components. These had spurred a nascent manufacturing renaissance in regions long left behind by globalization, and their removal could leave many such communities in limbo once again.

Economic Consequences, Political Irony

Analysts warn that the bill could dramatically undercut investment in wind, solar, and battery storage—sectors which, since the passage of the IRA in 2022, have attracted over $185 billion in announced manufacturing commitments. A recent study by the Rhodium Group estimates that clean energy capacity additions could fall by 57–72% by 2035 if the repeal takes effect. That would, in turn, raise annual U.S. emissions by up to a billion metric tons over the next decade.

The economic fallout would be uneven but ironic. Many of the Republican-held districts that voted for the repeal are precisely those that have benefited most from the IRA’s incentives. According to the Solar Energy Industries Association, some 330,000 clean energy jobs could be lost nationwide, with Texas alone potentially forfeiting over 34,000. Thirteen House Republicans who backed the bill represent districts collectively in line for more than $40 billion in clean energy investment.

Musk vs. MAGA

Perhaps the most surprising opposition to the bill has come from Elon Musk, the electric-vehicle magnate and erstwhile ally of the Republican right. In a rare rebuke, Musk accused Donald Trump and House Republicans of undermining energy independence and damaging American competitiveness. Mr. Trump, never one to shrink from a fight, responded with characteristically personal barbs. The spectacle of two of the right’s highest-profile figures trading blows over tax credits adds a surreal flourish to what is otherwise a highly consequential policy debate.

The Senate's Quiet Calculus

Despite its theatrical branding, the bill’s path forward is far from assured. Some Senate Republicans—mindful of the economic gains their states have enjoyed under the IRA—are reportedly uneasy about the scale and speed of the proposed rollback. There is speculation that the upper chamber will soften the bill’s more draconian elements, perhaps by phasing out credits more gradually or preserving support for certain industries.

A Fork in the Grid

Whether the “Big Beautiful Bill” dies in the Senate or is reborn in a tamer form, it is a stark reminder that America’s energy transition remains hostage to political whims. The IRA may have brought capital and confidence to clean energy markets, but its durability was always contingent on electoral math. In the coming months, investors and project developers will be watching Washington—not the weather—for clues about the future of the American grid.

This article was published with the help of AI.