Reforestation has long been hailed as one of the most hopeful responses to the climate crisis, offering the dual benefits of carbon capture and ecosystem restoration. But as sociologist Thomas Rudel makes clear in a sweeping new study, the regrowth of forests is rarely a passive, automatic event. It is a deeply human process one shaped by politics, economics, migration, and, most crucially, the decisions of the people who live and work closest to the land.
In a wide-ranging interview with Mongabay, Rudel reflected on the ideas behind his latest book, Reforesting the Earth: The Human Dimensions of Reforestation. Drawing on decades of research across South America, Africa, and Asia, Rudel challenges the conventional belief that forests simply bounce back on their own. Instead, he argues that reforestation happens when people allow it when smallholder farmers leave overused land, when Indigenous communities defend primary forests, and when institutions, both global and local, find ways to collaborate.
“Natural climate solutions are not just about planting trees,” says Rudel. “They’re about recognizing that humans are agents of both destruction and renewal.”
One of his key critiques is aimed at top-down climate pledges and global declarations, such as the New York Declaration on Forests, which often fail to translate into action on the ground. These plans, he says, overlook smallholder farmers and Indigenous communities groups that are central to forest loss and recovery but are rarely consulted in formal restoration efforts.
What works better, according to Rudel, are “corporatist coalitions” partnerships that link large-scale funders with local communities. In places like China, where reforestation programs like “Grain for Green” have succeeded, strong ties between local authorities and small farmers have ensured that new forests are not only planted but protected. In contrast, efforts in parts of West Africa have faltered because seedlings were abandoned after planting, with no local buy-in.
Rudel also introduces the idea of a “double movement” in forest history: first deforestation driven by economic expansion, followed by a second wave of regrowth as lands are abandoned or reclaimed. This pattern, he explains, is not just theoretical it’s observable in regions from the Amazon to Southeast Asia.
Crucially, Rudel cautions against relying solely on carbon-focused plantations, like fast-growing eucalyptus or acacia monocultures. While these trees store carbon quickly, they often come at the cost of biodiversity and community access. True reforestation, he argues, balances ecological health with local needs.
In many cases, the most promising restoration is not happening in wealthy nations, but in overlooked corners of the Global South peri-urban fringes, abandoned farm plots, and kitchen gardens transformed into community forests. Rudel points to southern India and rural Mexico as examples of small-scale, people-led forest recovery that deserves more global attention.
At the heart of Rudel message is a quiet but powerful reminder: forests don’t just come back because we want them to they come back when people have the power and incentives to protect them. Reforestation, he says, is not a silver bullet. But in a world facing the twin crises of climate breakdown and biodiversity loss, it remains one of our best tools if we can learn to wield it wisely, with people, not just trees, in mind.