Investing in nature to address climate change, support biodiversity, and protect ocean health—and more—is expected to reach record levels this year in response to more regulation and market demand, according to Cambridge Associates, a global investment firm.
Still, the amount of private capital invested to support natural systems will fall far short of what’s needed, according to the annual “State of Finance for Nature” report published in December from the United Nations Environment Programme.
A big reason is that nearly US$7 trillion in public and private finance was directed to companies and economic activities in 2022 that caused direct harm to nature, while only US$200 billion was directed to so-called nature-based solutions, or NbS—investments that protect, conserve, restore, or engage in the sustainable management of land and water ecosystems, as defined by the United National Environment Assembly 5, or UNEA5, the report said.
“Without a big turnaround on nature-negative finance flows, increased finance for NbS will have limited impact,” it said.
But the report also said that the misalignment “represents a massive opportunity to turn around private and public finance flows” to meet targets set by the United Nations Rio Conventions on climate change, desertification, and biodiversity loss.
The conventions aim to limit climate change to 1.5 degree Celsius above pre-industrial levels, protect 30% of the earth’s land and seas by 2030, and to reach “land degradation neutrality” by 2030. Reaching those goals will require more than double the amount of current levels of nature-based investing by 2025, to US$436 billion, and nearly triple today’s levels to US$542 billion by 2030, the report said.
Most of the US$200 billion invested in NbS today is by governments, but private investors contributed US$35 billion—including US$4.6 billion via impact investing funds and US$3.9 billion via philanthropy. The largest source of private finance was in the form of biodiversity offsets and credits. [An offset is designed to compensate for biodiversity loss, while a credit is the asset created to restore it].
Many wealthy individuals and families concerned about climate change and the environment so far have focused their investment dollars on climate solutions and innovations in technology and infrastructure, or in technologies supporting food and water efficiency, says Liqian Ma, head of sustainable investment at Cambridge Associates.
But “increasingly there is growing awareness that nature provides a lot of gifts and solutions if we prudently and responsibly manage nature-based assets,” Ma says.
Investments can be made, for instance, in sustainable forestry and sustainable agriculture—which can help sequester carbon—in addition to wetland mitigation, conservation, and ecosystem services.
“Those areas are not in the mainstream, but they are additional tools for investors,” Ma says.
Finance Earth, a London-based social enterprise, is among the organizations working to make these tools more mainstream by creating a wider array of nature-based solutions in addition to related investment vehicles.
Finance Earth groups nature-based solutions into six themes: agriculture, forestry, freshwater, marine/coastal, peatland, and species protection. Supporting many of these areas are an array of so-called ecosystem services, or benefits that nature provides such as absorbing carbon dioxide, boosting biodiversity, and providing nutrients, says Rich Fitton, director of Finance Earth.
Each of these ecosystem services are behind existing and emerging markets. Carbon-related disclosure requirements (at various stages of approval in the U.S. and elsewhere) have long spurred demand for carbon markets, the most mature of these markets.
Cambridge Associates, for instance, works with dedicated asset managers who have been approved by the California Air Resources Board to buy carbon credits, Ma says.
In its annual investment outlook, the firm said California’s carbon credits should outperform global stocks this year as the board is expected to reduce the supply of available credits to meet the state’s emission reduction targets. The value of these credits is expected to rise as the supply drops.
In September, the G20 Task Force on Nature-Related Financial Disclosures released recommendations (similar to those put forward several years ago by the Task Force for Carbon-related Financial Disclosure) that provide guidance for how companies can look across their supply chains to assess their impact on nature, water, and biodiversity “and then start to understand what the nature-related risks are for their business,” Fitton says.
The recommendations will continue to spur already thriving biodiversity markets, which exist in more than 100 countries including the U.S. In the U.K., a new rule called “Biodiversity Net Gain” went into effect this month requiring developers to produce a 10% net gain in biodiversity for every project they create.
Though developers can plant trees on land they’ve developed for housing, for example, they also will likely need to buy biodiversity credits from an environmental nonprofit or wildlife trust to replace and add to the biodiversity that was lost, Fitton says.
This new compliance market for biodiversity offsets could reach about £300 million (US$382 million) in size, he says.
Finance Earth and Federated Hermes are currently raising funds for a U.K. Nature Impact Fund that is likely to invest in those offsets in addition to other nature-based solutions, including voluntary offset markets for biodiverse woodlands and for peatlands restoration.
The fund was seeded with £30 million from the U.K. Department for Environment, Food and Rural Affairs—money that is designed to absorb first losses, should that be needed. The government investment gives mainstream investors more security to step into a relatively new sector, Fitton says.
“We need the public sector and philanthropy to take a bit more downside risk,” he says. That way Finance Earth can tell mainstream investors “look, I know you haven’t invested in nature directly before, but we are pretty confident we’ve got commercial-level returns we can generate, and we’ve got this public sector [entity] who’s endorsing the fund and taking more risk,” Fitton says.
Since December 2022, when 188 government representatives attending the UN Biodiversity Conference in Montreal agreed to address biodiversity loss, restore ecosystems, and protect indigenous rights, several asset managers began “creating new strategies or refining strategies to be more nature or biodiversity focused,” Ma says.
He cautioned, however, that some asset managers are more authentic about it than others.
“Some have taken it seriously to hire scientists to do this properly and make sure that it’s not just a greenwashing or impact-washing exercise,” Ma says. “We’re starting to see some of those strategies come to market and, in terms of actual decisions and deployments, that’s why we think this year we’ll see a boost.”
Fitton has noticed, too, that institutional investors are hiring experts in natural capital, recognizing that it’s a separate asset class that requires expertise.
“When that starts happening across the board then meaningful amounts of money will move,” he says. “There’s lots of projects there, there’s lots of things to invest in and there’ll be more and more projects to invest in as more of these markets become more and more mature.”
Rugged coastal drives and fireside drams define a slow, indulgent journey through Scotland’s far north.
A haven for hedge-fund titans and Hollywood grandees, Greenwich is one of the world’s most expensive residential enclaves, where eye-watering prices meet unapologetic grandeur.
Their careers spanned the personal computing, internet and smartphone waves. But some older workers see AI’s arrival as the cue to exit.
Luke Michel has already lived through two technology overhauls in his career, first desktop publishing in the 1980s and online publishing later on. But AI? He’s had enough.
So when his employer, the Dana-Farber Cancer Institute, made an early-retirement offer to some staff last year, the 68-year-old content strategist decided to speed up his exit. Before, he had expected to work a couple more years.
“The time and energy you have to devote to learning a whole new vocabulary and a whole new skill set, it wasn’t worth it,” he said.
It isn’t that he’s shunning artificial intelligence—he is learning Spanish with the help of Anthropic’s Claude. But, at this point, he’s less than eager to endure all the ways the technology promises to upend work.
“I just want to use it for my own purposes and not someone else’s,” he said.
After rising for decades and then hovering around 40% in the 2010s, the share of Americans over 55 years old in the workforce has slipped to 37.2%, the lowest level in more than 20 years.
The financial cushion of rising home equity and stock-market returns is driving some of the decline, economists and retirement advisers say.
But for some older professionals, money is only part of the equation.
They say they don’t want to spend the last years of their career going through the tumult of AI adoption, which has brought new tools, new expectations and a lot of uncertainty.
Many people retire when key elements of their work lives are disrupted at once, said Robert Laura , co-founder of the Retirement Coaches Association and an expert on the psychology of retirement.
“Maybe their autonomy is being challenged or changed, their friends are leaving the workplace, or they disagree with the company’s direction,” he said.
“When two or three of these things show up, that’s when people start to opt out.”
“AI is a big one,” he adds. “It disrupts their autonomy, their professionalism.”
Michel, whose work required overseeing and strategizing on website content, has been here before.
When desktop publishing arrived in the 1980s, he was a graphic designer using triangles and rubber cement.
The internet’s arrival changed everything again. Both developments required new skills, and he was energized by the challenge of learning alongside colleagues and peers.
It felt different this time around. “Your battery doesn’t hold a charge as long as it used to,” he said.
He would rather spend his energy volunteering, making art, going to operas and chairing the Council on Aging in North Andover, Mass., where he lives.
In an AARP survey last summer of 5,000 people 50 and over, 25% of those who planned to retire sooner than expected counted work stress and burnout as factors.
About half of those retired said they had left work at least partly because they had the financial security to do so.
In general, older Americans are less likely than younger counterparts to use AI, research shows.
About 30% of people from ages 30 to 49 said they used ChatGPT on the job, nearly double the share of those 50 and older, according to a 2025 Pew Research Center survey of more than 5,000 adults.
Baby boomers and members of Generation X also experienced the sharpest declines in confidence using AI technology, according to a ManpowerGroup survey of more than 13,900 workers in 19 countries.
“We as employers aren’t doing a good enough job saying (to older workers), we value the skills that you already have, so much so that we want to invest in you to help you do your job better,” says Becky Frankiewicz , ManpowerGroup’s chief strategy officer.
Jennifer Kerns’s misgivings about AI contributed to her departure last month from GitHub, where the 60-year-old worked as a program manager.
Coming from a family of artists, she said, it offends her that AI models train on the creative work of people who aren’t compensated for their intellectual property. And she worries about AI’s effect on people’s critical-thinking skills.
So she was dismayed when GitHub, a Microsoft-owned hosting service for software projects, began investing heavily in AI products and expecting employees to incorporate AI into much of their work. In employee-engagement surveys, the company had begun asking them to rate their AI usage on a scale of 1 to 5.
When it came time to write reports and reviews, colleagues would suggest that she use ChatGPT.
“I’d be like, ‘I have no idea how to use that and I have no interest in using AI to write anything for me,’” she said.
It would have been more prudent to work until she was closer to Medicare eligibility, she said. But by waiting until her children were out of college and some of her stock grants had vested, the math worked.
Her first act as a nonworking person: a solo trip to Scotland, where she took a darning workshop and learned how to repair sweaters.
“The opposite of AI,” she said.
Employers already under pressure to cut workers—such as in the tech industry—may welcome some of these retirements, said Gad Levanon , chief economist at Burning Glass Institute, which studies labor-market data.
“The more people retire, the fewer they have to let go,” he said.
Some of the savviest tech users are also balking at sticking around for the AI upheaval. Terry Grimm, who worked in IT for 40 years, retired from his senior software consultant role at 65 last May.
His firm had just been acquired by a bigger firm, which meant learning and integrating the parent company’s AI and other tech tools into his work.
Until then, Grimm expected he might work a couple more years, though he felt that he probably had enough saved to retire.
“I just got to the point where I was spending 40 hours at work and then 20 hours training and studying,” said Grimm, who has since moved with his wife from the Dallas area to a housing development on a golf course in El Dorado, Ark.
“I’m like, ‘I’ll let the younger guys do this.’”

