It's Not Too Late for Ancient Futures
Helena Norberg-Hodge's 50 Years of Work, Now Bearing Fruit Among Ladakh's Youth
By Yumi Sato
©︎ NPO greenz - 25 March 2026
When I opened the door, the hall was filled with Ladakhis — well over 500 of them. From children to elders in traditional dress, everyone’s eyes were fixed on the stage, where Helena Norberg-Hodge was speaking. In fluent Ladakhi, she delivered a speech that felt as if she were addressing each person, with waves of laughter rippling through the crowd. Organized by a local NGO, the gathering celebrated fifty years since Helena first arrived in Ladakh in 1975. It was held in a local school hall.
As village representatives and longtime leaders offered their tributes, voices rose from the audience: “Achey Helena!” with affection and respect. Applause rippled through the hall, and the warmth in the air seemed to say it all: the impact Helena has had here.
In 1975, shortly after Ladakh in northern India was opened to foreign visitors, Helena arrived there for the first time as a linguist. The region had only just been thrust into contact with the outside world and the global economy— road construction, development and the opening of the area to tourism. Watching up close as globalization began to disrupt traditional ways of life, she spent her days asking what human well-being means.
She went on to live in Ladakh for sixteen years before writing her book 'Ancient Futures'. Speaking the language fluently, she had built relationships with community leaders and worked with them on practical initiatives—from renewable energy to strengthening the voice of women. Her book 'Ancient Futures' is a record of the Ladakh she encountered and fell in love with, and a sharp question directed at a world racing headlong toward economic growth-first thinking. Helena went on to spend a good part of every year in Ladakh until 2015.
September 2025. When I heard that Helena would return to Ladakh — her “place of beginnings” — and that Planet Local Summit would be held by Local Futures, the international nonprofit she leads, I decided to go to Ladakh for the first time.
Where is the world headed after the pandemic?
From Ladakh — what do we need to relearn, now?
Is it not too late for “Ancient Futures”?
“Ancient Futures” : Ladakh, Here and Now
Leh main bazaar is where the past and the present intersect — and where many cultures meet. Once a thriving hub on the Silk Road, the town has long lived with diversity: rooted in Tibetan Buddhism, it has also welcomed Islam, Sikhism, Christianity, and more, coexisting side by side.
It had been ten years since Helena last visited Ladakh. Based in Australia and the UK, she has continued to stay involved with Ladakh. On the drive from the airport into town with her husband John, her longtime collaborator, she was shocked by changes greater than she had expected. At the same time, she sensed signs of a different kind of change.
Helena:
“ The big, visible change is destructive development. There are more cars, more pollution, more waste and more guest houses and hotels. In the summer, there are thousands of outside business people and tourists. You can sometimes feel as though there are no Ladakhis left.
But it’s the invisible change, the change in thinking among Ladakhis, that is actually more significant. It has been so inspiring to see a clear understanding, from the young to the old, that they need to be thinking more seriously about what kind of development they want.
An encouraging aspect of this is that when young people graduate from schools and colleges in other parts of India, more and more they tend to want to come back to Ladakh.”
Changes like development, tourism, and the resulting environmental issues are visible. But more than that, Helena has continued to focus on the inner changes in people. Since 1975, she has felt deeply that the reality is one where formal education and urban professions are valued more than livelihoods and wisdom rooted in the land, and where values coming from the outside are quietly eroding people’s pride.
Helena:
“ About 15 to 20 years ago, I visited a nomadic village near the Chinese border. It was so sad to see that the nomads, who were actually living in the most traditional way, had the lowest self-esteem. They were absolutely convinced they had to get their child to school, so they could become an engineer in the city.
In the traditional culture, the villagers - old and young - would bring their animals to graze at the high pastures in the summer. That was the most wonderful experience. I have never seen happier, healthier people. It was so beautiful...”
Because she knows that former beauty, she cannot stand by and watch that pride being lost. Helena has traveled all over this land, continuing to engage with its people.
Helena:
“ I definitely am seeing a big change now — people are looking at their own culture as something valuable again. This is partly due to my work, but it’s also partly because of many tourists who truly value the culture.
However, for that to be genuine and deep, it needs a deeper community connection and a strong local economy. And that is very hard to re-establish. This is true everywhere for all of us.”
Re-establishing those broken connections.
To not let it remain a mere ideal, she has spent 50 years working on the ground. Through that long journey, Helena developed the concept of "Localization".
Putting Ideals into Practice
What Was Happening on the Ground with "Localization"
What Helena started in Ladakh was not merely a call for "preserving tradition". In 1978, she established the "Ladakh Project", presenting practical measures to reorganize life within the local conditions of the land, without being swayed by outside values.
Helena:
“ The main goal was essentially providing information about the impact of development in other parts of the world. This convinced local leaders to pursue a different development direction — one that was more ecological and based on decentralized renewable energy. We also put a lot of effort into communicating the dangers of agriculture using chemical fertilizers and pesticides, and promoting organic farming. Here, thanks to the glacial meltwater, vegetables and herbs grow so beautifully and taste wonderful, without having to rely on any fertilizers.”
Helena:
“Much of our work was also about telling the truth about the Western 'fake idea' — the so-called 'American Dream'. Rather than trying to tell the Ladakhis what to do, we focused on informing them about the reality and the consequences of all these changes. This included sponsoring community leaders to come to the West to see with their own eyes what was actually happening there. And so, yeah, we did a lot of work."
Stories of Helena, who spoke fluent Ladakhi, raced across the mountains, and she quickly became a well-known figure throughout the region. At the same time, she was sometimes suspected of being a spy by the authorities.
In 1983, the Ladakh Project evolved into a locally-led NGO, the Ladakh Ecological Development Group (LEDeG), which continues to be a central pillar supporting community-based regenerative development today.
Helena also focused on building a network for women, and in 1991, she established the Women’s Alliance of Ladakh. She traveled from village to village to hold meetings, steadily empowering the local women.
Helena:
“My impression was that traditionally, Ladakhi women held a lot of respect and a lot of power. You might have an image of Sweden or Scandinavia, where I grew up, as having a very high status for women. But here in Ladakh, women actually had a stronger position than in Scandinavia, because of the whole way of life. In a decentralized local economy where everything was within walking distance, women were at the center of life. They were able to look after children and others while also making decisions in the agricultural economy. Women held so much influence.”
However, the impact of globalization gradually separated work from daily life. Men left their villages to find work outside, and women began to lose their influence within the community. The Women’s Alliance Helena started to reclaim women's inherent power and rebuild the connections between people, and between people and the land, resonated deeply. It grew into a powerful network dedicated to protecting Ladakh’s traditional values.
Helena’s concept of "Localization" is a methodology nurtured through her on-the-ground practice in Ladakh, working hand-in-hand with the local people to resist the forces of globalization. To prevent similar tragedies from repeating across the globe, she continues to share its vital importance through her books, films, lectures, and social media.
While localization is defined in many ways, here I would like to quote the definition shared on Local Futures’ Instagram:
Local Movements from Around the World Unite
Planet Local Summit
The Planet Local Summit was held in Ladakh over five days, from September 3 to 7, 2025. Around 200 participants from 25 countries gathered, engaging in cross-border and intergenerational exchange and vibrant discussions. With venues scattered throughout the town of Leh, at an altitude of over 3,500 meters, we participants found ourselves breathlessly walking from one spot to another.
Helena:
“What moved me most was seeing people connecting with one another—coming from such a diversity of cultures, yet with a clear understanding that we need to collaborate for a very different development path and a very different future. So many of the people who came were already aware of this, but they didn't know it was happening all around the world. I think it’s very empowering and deeply inspiring to see these wonderful people together. It truly warmed my heart.”
As Helena described, the summit program was designed to naturally foster connection. It wasn't just about listening to speakers on a stage; people brought their concerns to small circles and learned from the youth and children. Every venue was filled with an unreserved, genuine warmth.
There were many factors that cultivated this atmosphere. Above all, I believe it was because the participants were able to experience Ladakh — the "Ancient Futures" they had long imagined — with all five of their senses, right here and now.
Moving between the venues scattered throughout Leh, sometimes getting lost in back alleys, we shared meals prepared by local mothers and wrestled with traditional “dry toilets.” This immersive experience let us feel what it truly means to be rooted in a place.
And in those moments, it was the local Ladakhi youth who always reached out to us. Though we knew so little, they served as our guides to their culture. Throughout those five days, what I felt most strongly was their incredible energy.
The Youth Embodying the Ladakh of Today
Helena:
“For me, the high point was seeing so many young Ladakhis being so active. It was quite intergenerational, with people of different ages from high school students to university graduates. They are very appreciative of me, but as I keep telling them, that really means they are appreciating their own culture. It’s very positive.”
The summit was run by about twenty volunteers, nearly half of whom were young Ladakhis, including high school students. They actively took on the role of interpreting from Ladakhi to English. At times, they appeared in traditional attire, and when it was time to dance, they became our teachers with their impressive steps. They were so dependable and brilliant.
One talk session that drew a particularly high level of interest was titled “Young Ladakhis Returning to the Land.” In this session, young people who had once left for the city shared their personal stories of how they found their way back to their roots.
The words of one speaker, Sonam Angmo, left a lasting impression. When asked why she decided to return to her village, her answer was incredibly simple.
“I just missed my family and my village so much... so I came home.”
Her words echoed within me throughout my time in Ladakh. While I attended several sessions led by international speakers, I eventually found myself drawn to the circles hosted by the local Ladakhis, where they discussed their own community issues. Seeing these young people gathered around leaders like Angmo, engaged in such earnest discussion, I couldn't help but ask:
“Are all of you here special? Or is every young person in Ladakh like this?!”
They burst into laughter, warmly welcoming my simple question, and shared a variety of perspectives with me. Among their words, these stayed with me the most:
“Today, tourism is the main industry in Ladakh, but it’s only grown significantly in the last twenty years or so. We call it ‘fast money’ — the kind of work that brings in cash immediately. In contrast, the agriculture we’ve traditionally practiced takes a lot of time and effort before it ever becomes profitable. That’s why people shifted toward the easy money. But the pandemic was a symbolic turning point; when tourists stopped coming, the industry collapsed instantly. I think for many young people, that was a huge wake-up call.”
“A friend of mine borrowed money from his parents to start a motorbike rental business. When the pandemic hit, it went under immediately and left him with nothing but debt. But the hardest part wasn't the financial loss. It was losing the trust of his family and the community. Because of that, he fell into a deep depression, and he still hasn't been able to recover.”
“Many children in Ladakh leave home at a very young age for their education and stay in dormitories. I’ve been away from my parents since I was four years old. That’s why I only realized how incredibly delicious the vegetables in Ladakh are after I grew up and was back to the village. It’s all thanks to the glacier water, which is so rich in minerals. Once I understood that, I think my heart was set. I knew I wanted to protect this environment and culture, and that I wanted to live my life here in Ladakh."
When the topic turned to the vegetables, they all broke into joyful cries of “Exactly!” and “They really are delicious!” This wasn’t a set of values imposed on them by anyone else. Through their own experiences of leaving home, and through encounters with peers, elders, and friends from all over the world, they have each chosen their own path and are moving forward.
The seeds Helena began sowing fifty years ago are sprouting across generations and bearing fruit in the young people living today. It showed me the immense power that comes from being rooted in the land and honoring one’s own culture. Meeting them in Ladakh, I felt my own conviction grow stronger and more unshakable than ever.
The COVID-19 Pandemic: Light or Shadow?
The awakening brought about by the pandemic was a major turning point, as the young people in Ladakh described. During this interview, the one question I absolutely wanted to ask Helena was: “Did the pandemic push the movement toward localization forward?”
Looking at my own surroundings, I see that more people are choosing to live closer to nature, driven by the shift to remote work and changing values. Yet, at the same time, we have seen the rise of isolation and division, and the shadows of war continue to loom without end.
Helena:
“The pandemic was certainly a major push for localization. In many countries, we saw a movement of people returning from the cities to the villages. There was also a significant increase in the interest and awareness of the importance of local food. People began to see clearly just how vulnerable life in a big city can be.
We’ve also seen a rise in initiatives to start alternative, nature-based schools in many places. Even here in Ladakh, several of these initiatives have begun to take root.
But at the same time, the division is incredibly destructive, and enhanced by technology. We must realize that the internet, smartphones, and AI algorithms were not created by human beings deciding to make something useful for our own needs. Instead, they emerged from a centralized structure of wealth extraction and control from the top. They destroy our direct human connections and leave us isolated behind our screens.”
Helena emphasizes that we must understand the inherent nature and risks of technology. Instead of being dependent and “used” by it, we should “use” it as a tool to convey local practices and share a different vision for the future.
The survey results Helena mentioned are deeply symbolic. According to a 2025 BSI study, 47% (nearly half) of young people aged 16 to 21 said they would prefer a world without the internet or smartphones. A backlash against social structures that breed isolation is clearly beginning to emerge.
Helena also points out a trap that many of us fall into today. When we feel lonely or anxious, we tend to our inner world. While mindfulness and spiritual practices are vital for reconnecting with ourselves in these chaotic times, they can sometimes be reframed as “purely individual issues.” This can obscure the systemic distortions in our society.
Helena:
“Localization fosters human-scale, smaller, slower, and more caring relationships. These include deeper, more spiritual ways of relating. But the problem with spiritual movements is that they have tended not to look at the practical side of things. We must be more holistic and see the connection between the spiritual, the material, the practical, and the economic.”
The pandemic brought both light and shadow. Rather than reducing our struggles to purely individual issues, we must question the unnatural structures of our society. Helena’s unwavering conviction was forged through her formative experience in Ladakh, where spirituality and society were seamlessly woven together.
Moving Our Own Lives:
Where True Happiness Begins
Helena:
“Ever since I first arrived in Ladakh, people have told me that I’m so special. But I always explain: what mobilized me into a 24/7 activist didn't come from within me. It was Ladakh.”
Helena spoke these powerful words once again during her final speech at the five-day summit.
Surrounded by rugged mountains where summers are short and winters are locked in ice, the people of Ladakh developed a unique culture by remaining acutely conscious of the limits of their economy and the natural world. It was a balanced way of life founded on Tibetan Buddhism, a culture of intergenerational collaboration where the feminine and its nurturing nature were held in high status. Helena encountered this miraculous situation by chance, and it has been the force that has mobilized her ever since.
Reflecting on these words during the interview, I also asked Helena about her own “ROOTS.”
Helena:
“It was my childhood in Sweden that nurtured my deep love for nature. Even living in a town, I had so many experiences in the natural world, like going mushroom picking. But ultimately, it was Ladakh that shaped my life. It was there that I witnessed the human well-being that comes from a more interconnected, intergenerational way of living.”
After spending sixteen years in Ladakh, Helena lived in various parts of the world. I asked her how she had integrated those experiences into her daily life.
Helena:
“The most important thing I discovered in Ladakh was the significance of community. It’s about a deeper and richer relationship that isn’t confined to nuclear families — especially intergenerational connections. But honestly, even though I tried, I couldn’t bring that back into my own life. We even bought land once, trying to build a community with like-minded friends. However, everyone was pulled in different directions within the current economic system, and it was very difficult.”
Even so, Helena shifted her focus toward practices that could be initiated even in urban settings and continued to move forward. Her local food initiatives led to the promotion of farmers' markets in various regions, and she also played a key role in the founding of the Global Ecovillage Network. In this way, the localization movement began to spread throughout the world.
Helena:
“What existed in Ladakh was the tangible feeling that your actions and your labor were truly useful for yourself and for others. Being able to see that impact with your own eyes is what gives you the empowerment of being in charge of your own life.
Within those intimate relationships, you aren't trapped by a single label like 'accountant,' 'nurse,' or 'carpenter'; you can remain multitalented. Men and women alike — everyone knew a bit about how to build a house, how to weave, and everyone could sing, dance, and make music. Don't you think true human happiness lies in such a way of living?”
To those of us who have lived with a suffocating obsession — the feeling that “I must become someone” or “I have no value unless I am a professional”... the people of Ladakh show us the true richness of life through their very way of being.
Moving our own lives.
Human happiness begins from this feeling.
Taking Back Our 'Ancient Future'
At the end of the summit, a large circle of dance formed, accompanied by traditional dances and live performances by local bands. The people of Ladakh didn't stay glued to the stage. They danced freely in their own way. When I happened to glance to the side, I saw Helena herself, dancing with pure joy with total freedom. That is Ladakh.
Helena:
“In the global system, we are imprisoned in a deadly monoculture where one single star sings to the whole world and the rest become spectators. The phenomenon itself is highly commercial, competitive, and unhealthy.
But you see, the local is much more participatory. Anyone can play music, listen, and dance. That way, we can connect more deeply, feel more fulfilled, and above all, it’s just so much more fun!”
Helena continues to urge us: we must not remain mere spectators, but instead take back our lives into our own hands. To do so, she insists, we need to understand the “Big Picture” of what is happening in our world today.
Helena:
“The root causes of almost all our problems are connected to the very same system. It’s not just the environmental or economic crises. Even personal struggles, like eating disorders, are created within this unnatural system. That is why we must first learn and understand what is truly happening. Once we do, we can look for ways of moving in the opposite direction.”
Unnoticed, we have become deeply immersed in the global economic system. Why is it that food transported from a distant country is cheaper than what is grown locally? Why do we trust invisible blockchains? What lies on the other side of this bloated system? That is exactly what local is.
Helena:
“Once we start learning about the local initiatives happening all over the world, we can regain hope within ourselves much sooner than we might expect. There isn't just one path forward; there are countless paths, because as we become more localized, we are respecting diversity.
Try reducing the time spent on work just to earn money. Then, use that free time for something more meaningful — to liberate your mind and to build community we want to bring about meaningful change.”
The hope of Ancient Futures is what Helena has discovered during her fifty-year journey alongside Ladakh. As we live in an uncertain world, the reason her words resonate so powerfully is that they are not mere ideals. They are a tangible sense of reality, built through decades of action.
Without losing sight of the Big Picture, we touch the soil beneath our feet, look into the eyes of our neighbors, and begin to cultivate our own small-scale economies. In doing so, we can reclaim technology — not as something to depend on, but as a tool to share our stories and encourage our companions across the world.
There are moments when we feel as though we might be crushed by the sheer power of the mighty system. Yet, I have truly seen the young people of Ladakh, carving out their own "Ancient Futures". That future is not somewhere far away. It begins the very moment we rise from our seats as spectators and join the dance of our own lives.
This article was originally published in Japanese language on Greenz.jp.
Read also Yumi Sato's second article on Ladakh: 'Young Ladakhis Returning to the Land'.
Credits:
Photography: Yumi Sato
Special Thanks: Katie Conlon, Jin Young Lim, Stanzin Angmo
©︎ NPO greenz
About the author
Yumi Sato is a writer, storyteller, photographer, and communication designer whose work explores cultural storytelling through encounters with indigenous wisdom and local communities. She is the author of 'ROOTS to the Future' for greenz.jp, sharing stories of people rooted in their lands and cultures. For over 25 years, Yumi has performed as a Chindonya, a traditional Japanese street performer, reviving communal celebration through music and rhythm. She is also a Bon Odori dancer, carrying on a traditional circle dance. Across her work, she weaves together ancient wisdom and the way we live today, bringing diverse voices into conversation and opening space for social imagination and transformation.