The news landed last week, and it’s a profoundly sobering moment for anyone who cares about this planet: Dr. Jane Goodall has passed away at 91.

She was the pioneering primatologist and probably the top biologist of her time. Her groundbreaking discoveries—that chimpanzees use tools, have distinct personalities, and complex social lives—didn’t just change science; they forced humanity to look at itself in a new, humbler mirror. Incredibly enough, she first went to Tanzania in 1960 without a college degree. She was a young woman who dared to get up close and personal with animals most people thought were just “things.” You can read her definitive obituary here.

This news hit my wife and me especially hard because we attended her last conference, which was right here in Mexico City, the Saturday before her passing. Being in the room and hearing her voice—still sharp, still full of fire—was a powerful, final experience.

Goodall had long since transitioned into an activist, dedicating her time to defending nature and fighting against climate change. She spent a good part of her talk emphasizing the need to radically shift our behavior. She spoke directly to us, the most “intellectual species,” about our crazy consumption. She wasn’t just talking about carbon emissions; she was talking about the moral costs of our modern lifestyle.

Then she dropped a line that was truly unforgettable, driving her entire message home:

“We must remember that we have not inherited this planet from our parents, we have borrowed it from our children. But we have not been borrowing their future, we have stolen it and we keep stealing it.”

That phrase reframes the entire climate crisis. It’s not just a technical or scientific problem; it’s an ethics problem driven by our demand for more, more, more. It’s a powerful challenge for every investor and founder in Latin America and beyond: is your innovation truly solving problems, or is it just accelerating the theft?

Her life, in the end, wasn’t just about watching chimpanzees. It was a masterclass in challenging the status quo, in patience, and in demonstrating that the “impossible” is just a story we tell ourselves.

Goodall didn’t offer blind optimism. Her hope was active—it was a mandate to roll up our sleeves and work harder. She showed us that the solution lies in our hands, pointing to the incredible resilience of nature and, crucially, the indomitable human spirit.

The world lost a true titan. But her legacy isn’t an epitaph; it’s a challenge to every single person: what kind of difference will you choose to make?