Sustainability professionals now face an even steeper uphill battle. Yet, despite alarming reports, participants at the Tarfala Think Tank leave with renewed energy and determination. Suston’s Editor-in-Chief, Gabriel Arthur, tries to uncover the secret behind this popular conference.
Pinned onto the walls of the conference room at Hotel Vatnahalsen are around thirty notes. Each one bears a handwritten question, all responding to the prompt: “What question do you carry ‘top of mind’ in your life?”
Gathered in the room are nearly thirty participants – scientists, business leaders, NGO representatives, mountain guides, communicators, investors, and more. They all share two things: A mission to contribute to a more sustainable society, and a passion for backcountry skiing in pristine mountains.
Given their professional backgrounds, one might expect the questions to be practical and work-related. And some are – like how to take a crucial project to the next level. But many in this group of “doers” seem to wrestle with deeper concerns. “Is this still a world we should choose to bring children into?” Several existential questions are clearly top of mind right now.
And that’s hardly surprising. The climate and environmental policies of the United States is taking a sharp nosedive under the Trump administration, which seems intent on dragging Europe down in the fall. Global tech giants like Meta and Google are compromising sustainability efforts in their race to dominate AI. The year 2024 was the warmest on record, and the Paris Agreement’s 1.5-degree target is beginning to seem unattainable. Of the nine planetary boundaries, six have already been breached. Etcetera, etcetera…
“What question do you carry top of mind in your life?”
A physical and emotional journey
We are in a remote mountain hotel along the Oslo-Bergen railway in Norway. No roads lead here. There is no village—only the hotel, a few private cabins, and some railway structures. The surrounding mountains are covered in pristine snow, with no ski lifts in sight. Instead, skiers leave zigzagging trails as they ascend with climbing skins, followed by graceful turns on the descent.
Tarfala Think Tank is hosted by Professor Johan Rockström – one of the world’s leading researchers on planetary boundaries – along with consultants Brita Staal and Alexander Crawford and mountain guide Carl Lundberg.
Over five days, we will spend our days skiing in the mountains and our afternoons and evenings in the conference room.
Staal explains that this experience will likely feel like a psychological journey, shaped like the letter “U.”
“The first few days can feel like a steep descent. But then I believe we’ll level out and start climbing back up together.”
She’s not talking about skiing.
The first evening is time for the yearly Planetary Health Check.
Global research and world politics
A Tarfala Think Tank tradition is Johan Rockström’s Planetary Health Check, a condensed summary of the latest research on planetary boundaries.
This is my third year attending and I’ve come to recognize the familiar pattern in my own and others’ reactions.
The facts and figures are not new to most in the room. But hearing them compressed into a one-hour presentation, with starkly clear PowerPoint slides, is still a jarring experience. There’s no escaping it – and each year I have attended, the situation seems to worsen.
The same “hockey-stick curves” appear, showing alarming negative trends since the 1980s. But in the fall of 2024, a new element entered the picture: Recent changes can no longer be fully explained by existing climate models.
Have scientists underestimated the way different systems amplify each other? Perhaps the world’s oceans have begun to lose their capacity to absorb carbon dioxide?
“The new data makes us really nervous. The simple answer is: We don’t know,” Rockström concludes.
A conference room with a view.
Grasping for hope and solutions
At dinner that evening, I find myself seated next to Johan Rockström and two other professors: Sonia Kéfi from the University of Montpellier and Adrienne Grêt-Regamey from ETH Zurich.
Kéfi studies how ecosystems persist – or collapse – under external pressure. What makes them resilient, and what makes them vulnerable? She shares that warning signs are everywhere, and that retaining researchers in her field is becoming increasingly difficult. Facing a growing ecological crisis every day is simply too heavy a burden for many.
Rockström explains that he usually ends his presentations by highlighting positive developments worldwide. But this time, he skipped that part:
“You’re already part of the movement,” he told the group.
Grêt-Regamey, who leads a major research institute focused on environmental science and landscape planning, isn’t convinced.
“Right now, we really need to hear about what’s going right,” she says.
Rockström agrees to give a separate talk later in the week to balance things out. It’s a relief.
Finding the rhythm – in skiing and conversation.
A newfound mecca for ski touring
Vatnahalsen Hotel dates back to the 1896, with periods of both prosperity and crisis. Nine years ago, entrepreneur and ski enthusiast Petter Andreasen took over and transformed it into a ski touring hub. From here, a short approach leads to several impressive fjells.
On the first day, we summit Tarven. On the second, we ski into Myrdalen to explore more slopes. We move in four separate groups, each led by a mountain guide. Unlike the Alpine guiding culture, Scandinavian mountain guiding is more inclusive, with guides frequently stopping to share knowledge about the mountains, snow conditions, and ski technique.
Some participants ascend with effortless grace, but most of us struggle up the inclines. We zigzag uphill, and our kick-turns – where we switch direction on steep terrain – drain energy when not executed correctly.
It’s hard not to draw parallels to sustainability work. What in our professional lives drains energy in the same way as a poorly executed kick-turn? How do we find better flow?
As the terrain flattens, conversations start – about yesterday’s sobering insights, about projects and ideas, and about skiing. The sun is shining, the air is crisp. Ahead lies a long, exhilarating descent.
For now, the weight of last night’s discussion feels distant.
Norwegian playgrounds are all around us.
Have we already reached tipping points?
Back in the conference room, tonight’s first speaker, oceanographer Ola Kalén, begins with a heads-up: “I want to warn you – this is not a positive presentation.”
The theme for today is water. We hear about rising ocean temperatures, melting ice sheets, sea-level rise, coral bleaching, and marine heat waves.
Next, Anders Finnson from the Swedish Water & Wastewater Association outlines the challenges of PFAS contamination and water purification. Glaciologist and sustainability consultant Erik Huss provides a grim update on the world’s glaciers.
Then, finally, a more hopeful story. Maja Tössberg, COO of Sweden’s Hydroelectric Environmental Fund, shares how nine energy companies have invested nearly a billion euros to improve environmental conditions in hydropower stations and waterways.
“Over 120 projects are already underway, and we’re seeing results – like salmon returning just a week after a 100-year-old dam was removed,” Tössberg says.
Three distressing reports, one hopeful story. A familiar ratio in sustainability circles. Could the balance also tip the other way?
Brainstorming in working groups around the next steps.
Working groups with diverse perspectives
Including the train journeys to and from Vatnahalsen, many of us spend an entire week together. Some have attended multiple times, while for others, this is their first experience. The U-shaped psychological journey that Staal described early on – plunging downward, leveling out, then rising again – seems to hold true.
On the third day, we break into five working groups, each tackling different themes, such as “Mobilizing the masses through storytelling” and “Getting nature on the financial balance sheet.”
The discussions are broad and sometimes scattered – it’s not easy to shift between global crises and the small, tangible actions we as individuals can take. Yet, concrete ideas that could be put into action begin to take shape. There is energy and curiosity in the room.
Psychological research confirms that receiving alarming news is easier to process when one feels empowered to act rather than passively absorb it.
But the spontaneous workshops and emerging project ideas aren’t the main reason behind the growing sense of optimism. Something deeper is at play.
Mountain guide Carl Lundberg at his office.
A successful fusion of practice and theory
On the final evening, we gather in one of the hotel’s beautiful old rooms. One by one, participants share their reflections and experiences. Many are deeply moved, some even shedding tears. And clear patterns emerge.
* Hearing about the work and passion of others provides hope and inspiration.
* Being in a safe space where it’s okay to express fear and doubt fosters openness and trust.
* Taking a step back from the relentless news cycle and demanding workloads allows for a deeper perspective – both professionally and personally.
And perhaps most importantly: Spending days together in the mountains, on skis, has a profound impact on the group. Inspiring conversations, deep discussions, philosophical musings – all interwoven with physical exertion and immersion in the natural world. Sweating, freezing, feeling hunger, worry, exhilaration, euphoria, harmony – a reminder of a different way of being.
Outside the hotel, the mountains stand silent, white, and still. The night sky is clear, lit by a full moon. It’s as if the mountains and nature whisper: “Why don’t you take better care of us? And why do you lock yourselves away in offices? We are always here – come join us.”
Photos: Gabriel Arthur
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