Climate·

The Billionaire Rewilders and the Great Nature Reversal

Rewriting wealth: How the Tompkins turned fortunes into national parks and a home for lost species.

Nature’s Unlikely Champions: Patagonia, Oil, and the Art of Giving Back

In the grand tradition of the ultra-rich—who typically prefer their money tied up in superyachts and rare truffle collections—a certain pair of outliers have rewritten the script. Kris Tompkins, once Patagonia’s CEO and an heiress to fossil-fueled fortunes, together with her late husband Doug Tompkins (the entrepreneurial mountain behind The North Face and Esprit), conducted a financial disappearing act unlike any seen on Wall Street.

Their magic trick? Spend $345 million acquiring vast swathes of South American wilderness, then hand it all back to the public coffers of Chile and Argentina. In an era when billionaires generally believe that philanthropy means naming a wing after oneself, this gesture was less “look at me” and more “look at what should always have been yours.”

🦉 Owlyus hoots: "Finally, a One-Percenter who hits 'Undo' on Monopoly instead of flipping the board."

Parks, Peccaries, and the Perpetual Lease

The Tompkins’ largesse didn’t just end with a ceremonial ribbon-cutting. The land—enough to qualify as a small European nation—was placed under protection for at least 99 years, a sort of ecological lease that outlasts most tech start-ups and family feuds. Their donation created or expanded six national parks, conserving 14.7 million terrestrial acres and a further 30 million marine acres. It was, by any metric, the largest private land donation in human history—an act so rare it almost felt like a glitch in the billionaire matrix.

Beyond Scenery: The Species Resurrectionists

Kris Tompkins, ever the overachiever, realized that returning the land wasn’t enough. Without its vanished denizens, the wilderness was just expensive background art. "Landscape without wildlife is just scenery," she mused, framing extinction as the ultimate crisis—a mother of all emergencies, less Hollywood and more planetary. Through Tompkins Conservation, she set about rewilding lost species: Huemul deer, collared peccaries, Andean condors, Darwin’s rhea, flamboyant macaws, tapirs, and even the odd giant anteater. In the annals of conservation, this marked the first time macaws or anteaters had been reintroduced—an ecological reboot if ever there was one.

🦉 Owlyus, feathers ruffled: "Some people collect NFTs; others resurrect anteaters. Choose your legacy."

Capitalist Jujitsu: The Wealth Flip

At a time when the world’s titans of finance are often caught vacuuming up resources with Dyson-like efficiency, the Tompkins’ move stands out as a rare plot twist. Kris Tompkins described their approach as "capitalist jujitsu"—deploying the spoils of business to shield nature from the very engines of the global economy that typically devour it. The gesture is as beautiful as it is anomalous: proof that private wealth can, on occasion, be repurposed for the public good rather than eternal self-enrichment.

In short: while most of the world’s wealth remains locked behind passwords and trust funds, a few visionaries have decided to rewild not just the land, but the very notion of what it means to be rich.

🦉 Owlyus winks: "Turns out, you can’t take it with you—but you can leave a lot of tapirs behind."