Growing up near the foothills of Dehradun, India, College of Forestry Professor Rajat Panwar always felt a deep connection with forests.
Scattered around the hillsides and in the valley where he lived were sal forests and riverine vegetation, in and around the famous Rajaji National Park. For Panwar, forests were associated with joy and playfulness.
Though he felt connected to the forests, he chose a fairly conventional path at university, studying physics and mathematics as an undergraduate and eventually completing his MBA. After school, he started his career at Coca-Cola in Bangalore but only stayed six months, quickly realizing that he wanted something different.
To figure out what he would do next, Panwar decided to take a vacation and travel north to Tashi Jong Khampagar, a Buddhist monastery in Himachal Pradesh. What was initially planned as a two-week break turned into nine months of reflection. The monastery, located within a natural, forest-filled landscape, was where something in him shifted.
During his frequent walks, he observed Indigenous and local communities gathering non-timber forest products like honey, mushrooms, medicinal plants and firewood. Some of these products, like Rauwolfia serpentina (Indian snakeroot), held significant market value elsewhere in India. Yet here, they were being sold for very little.
With his MBA in mind, Panwar began to ask: could better markets help these communities create more prosperous livelihoods? And if so, how?
He initially imagined starting a cooperative. Instead, he joined a World Bank-supported initiative — the Medicinal and Aromatic Plants Program in Asia (MAPPA) — working across India and Nepal. MAPPA aimed to help communities build livelihoods around the sustainable use of forest products. But in practice, Panwar encountered a deeper complexity.
During his work, he was often tasked with encouraging communities to adopt “sustainable” practices, only to find sustainability already embedded in their traditions and practices. They often took what they needed and knew the limits of the land because their lives depended on it.
At the same time, they also needed income.
In one village, Panwar was asked to speak with an older man about cutting trees. The goal was to encourage restraint and reinforce the idea of sustainability. The man listened, then said something Panwar still carries with him:
“Sustainability comes after breakfast.”
Panwar says that moment changed him. And further emphasized the complexities around sustainability and economic development including the key idea that economic security and well-being often must come first before sustainability can realistically be addressed or prioritized. At the same time, only recognizing forests for their economic value and reducing them to commodities alone overlooks their cultural, spiritual and ecological significance.
“Economic well-being depends on a healthy environment, just as environmental well-being relies on mindful economic practices,” Panwar said.
Seeking deeper understanding, Panwar turned to mentors at India’s Forest Research Institute. Those conversations ultimately led him to Oregon State University, where he pursued a Ph.D. focused on sustainability at the intersection of business and forestry.
Now a professor of responsible and sustainable business at the college, Panwar’s research and work reflects that same tension and possibility — what he finds most exciting about his work. In his role as interim director of the Center for the Future of Forests and Society (CFFS), he is closely engaged with efforts that align with these interests. The center supports research that explores how forests are living, interdependent systems — ecological, social and ethical — while helping set priorities and directs support toward work that serves the diverse people, communities, industries and lands connected to forestry in Oregon.
Panwar’s interdisciplinary approach to his work means he spends time teaching at the College of Forestry as well as at the College of Business, covering topics like how to mitigate climate change and biodiversity loss while contributing towards meeting sustainable development goals.
“In my teaching, I try to help students see the natural world not just as a resource, but as living systems we are part of — and to think carefully about what responsible engagement with those systems requires. That same perspective shapes how I approach the work of CFFS.”
Panwar says it is notable that in 2026, amid global turmoil, the theme of this year’s International Day of Forests was Forests and Economies. The theme was chosen by the Collaborative Partnership on Forests on behalf of the United Nations General Assembly.
Panwar sees what is important — and what may be missing — in that framing.
“In a year marked by such global turbulence, it is interesting that the focus is on forests and economies. That connection matters, of course. But forests also quietly teach us something deeper — about balance, coexistence and peace — and perhaps that is what we most need to be reminded of right now.”
Panwar does not point to a single solution, but to a tension he’s learned to work within. Forests matter, and so do the people who depend on them. His work continues in that space in between — where economic realities, cultural values and ecological limits all intersect, and where none can or should be considered in isolation.