NB: I originally developed a version of this piece under a different title for the ANA. Shared here, it carries many of the same themes—framed more through the context of my own work and personal reflections.
In the mid-1980s, during my first visit to France, I observed a simple yet profound practice: shoppers at the local supermarché repurposed the boxes in which products were delivered to carry their groceries home. This wasn’t labeled as sustainability—it was an intuitive act of resourcefulness. Inspired, I returned home with a net bag for produce and began using sturdy LL Bean canvas totes for my grocery runs in NYC. Initially, these choices were about practicality and, if I’m to be completely honest, a touch of European flair more than they were about environmental considerations. Yet, over time, I realized they were expressions of an untapped ethos—my subconscious alignment with practices that honored both utility and the planet.
My personal evolution mirrors a broader journey many of us undertake: small, seemingly inconsequential choices that, in hindsight, reflect a yearning for harmony with our environment. A reminder that the seeds of regeneration sprout as much from our individual choices and everyday actions as they do from corporate investments or institutional frameworks.
Ancient Wisdom: The original blueprint for sustainability
Long before sustainability became a corporate buzzword, ancient cultures embodied regenerative principles in daily living. Indigenous communities, for instance, practiced agriculture that replenished the land, fully knowing their well-being was inextricably linked to the health of the environment and the rhythm of nature. This cyclical perspective ensured resources were thoughtfully managed and respected, not simply extracted from Gaia.
Similarly, Eastern philosophies have emphasized balance and interconnectedness. The concept of Wu Wei in Taoism, often translated as “effortless action,” teaches alignment with the natural world’s rhythms—advocating for choices that harmonize rather than disrupt. These traditions were never about perfection. They were about presence, reciprocity and understanding that the health of the systems in which we live determine the health of the self.
From sustainability to regeneration: A paradigm shift
Modern sustainability has focused on minimizing harm—reducing carbon footprints, limiting waste, curbing resource consumption. There’s no doubt these are important goals. Yet they live within a framework of “less bad.” Regeneration challenges us to go further. To reimagine our role as more than stewards or managers of systems and as participants in their renewal.
Regeneration invites us to shift from extraction to reciprocity. From compliance to contribution. From offsetting damage to cultivating vitality.
It also asks us to reconsider what value truly means. As I explored in my book Do Good, many brands remain stuck in a zero-sum mindset—viewing social and environmental responsibility as a cost, a trade-off, a side campaign. Yet the brands that thrive over time—those that earn trust, loyalty and resilience—understand that doing good is not in opposition to doing well. Indeed, it’s the foundation of it.
Brands as a force for renewal
What if business adopts a regenerative mindset? What if brands see themselves as part of the ecosystem—not separate from it? As contributors to the emotional and material well-being of people, communities and the planet?
Some already do.
In collaboration with the rainforest conservation organization Third Millennium Alliance, the luxury Ecuadorian chocolate company To’ak, for example, manages a regenerative cacao project. Providing local farmers with resources and financial incentives to convert deforested land into cacao forests, To’ak restores biodiversity, sequester scarbon and creates economic opportunity.
Natura, the Brazilian cosmetics company founded in 1969 and a longtime B Corp, embedded environmental stewardship into its model at its inception. Sourcing ingredients from the Amazon through long-term partnerships with local communities, they aim to preserve biodiversity and support livelihoods. Natura’s commitment goes further than product, extending to reforestation, carbon neutrality and an ethos that regeneration is a shared responsibility. The brand doesn’t wear sustainability as a badge. It treats it as a way of being—or, well-being well, as their founding purpose once expressed.
And Interface, a global modular flooring company once rooted in petroleum-based production, transformed its entire business model after its founder experienced what he called a “spear in the chest” moment. Today, Interface is working toward becoming a carbon-negative enterprise—removing more carbon than it emits, restoring the ecosystems it once depleted and proving that legacy industries can be part of the solution, not the problem.
While none of these companies is perfect—perfection has never been the point—they share a commitment to coherence. A willingness to evolve. And an understanding that regeneration isn’t a single action—it’s a way of seeing.
A call to reimagine value
At its core, regeneration asks us to redefine value.
To move beyond transactions and toward relationships. To see business as more than a machine to be optimized and as a living system to be nourished.
When conducting the research that led to my model of Brand Citizenship and book Do Good, I was struck by how many people spoke about alignment—about wanting to support companies that reflected their values, cared about their well-being and contributed meaningfully to the world around them.
Trust wasn’t built on price or convenience alone. It equally was earned through enriching lives and behaving responsibly toward the planet.
Regenerative brands take this further. They see customers as collaborators, not simply consumers. Employees as advocates, not assets or human capital. And communities as ecosystems of potential, not solely markets.
Consider Seventh Generation, whose very name draws from the Iroquois principle of making decisions with the well-being of the next seven generations in mind. Long before it became fashionable, the brand was rooted in environmental responsibility—choosing plant-based ingredients, reducing plastic and pushing for ingredient transparency. Today, their relevance isn’t simply an historical case study. It’s instructive. And their early commitment a reminder that regeneration doesn’t require reinvention. It demands remembering. Reconnecting to values that nourish, not only extract. Producing products—and systems—that honor both our present needs and their future consequences.
And, importantly, Seventh Generation recognizes that value is not confined to financial returns. It includes restored landscapes. Restored dignity. Restored trust.
Purpose, practiced
Purpose, then, is not a campaign or a statement. It is a lived discipline. One that shapes decisions, behaviors and relationships over time.
Purpose invites businesses to move beyond the optics of sustainability and into something more grounded. To ask what they return—not only what they extract. To appreciate how they show up—not only what they promise. And to understand how they resonate with impact—not only how they measure it.
This isn’t solely a moral decision. Or even good ethics. It’s good business.
Environmental issues are no longer abstract. People today feel them firsthand. A recent Gallup poll found that more than one-third of U.S. adults have experienced extreme weather events in the past two years, with percentages rising significantly in the South and West. Nearly half of Southern residents, and 43% of Westerners, report being personally affected.
The climate conversation is no longer theoretical. It’s personal, visceral and increasingly urgent, reshaping expectations for how brands act—in their operations, investments and leadership choices, alongside their messaging.
Some brands have long practiced this kind of coherence. Lush, the UK-based cosmetics brand, has built purpose into every aspect of its business—from using ethically sourced, plastic-free ingredients to pioneering package-free products and standing firm in its values, even when that meant stepping away from social media. (Yes, the brand became “anti-social” in November 2021.) Lush’s choices aren’t always easy, but they’re clear. Consistent. Grounded in what matters most to the brand.
This gap—between intention and action—is where regeneration fits. Not as a silver bullet, and rather as a reorientation. A framework for reconnecting the why, the how and the who of the business.
An Invitation to Lead
As we celebrate Earth Day, I’m reminded that the future of brands, the future of business, is not separate from the future of human life on Earth. Indeed, it is bound up in it.
Regeneration offers us a way forward—to align ambition and growth with what endures. To redefine performance and value through the lens of reciprocity. Soil. Water. Breath. Care.
This moment invites sincerity over spectacle. Participation over perfection.
And for those who choose to lead with humility, curiosity and coherence—the opportunity is enormous. To build stronger brands and restore trust. To replenish hope. And to help renew the systems that sustain us all.