Jane Goodall, the pioneering primatologist whose quiet observations in Tanzania’s jungles reshaped humanity’s understanding of the animal kingdom, died on October 1 at her home in California at the age of 91. Her passing, announced by the Jane Goodall Institute, marks the end of an era for conservationists, but it also spotlights a legacy that has inspired generations to bridge the gap between scientific inquiry and worldwide activism. From her groundbreaking fieldwork with chimpanzees in the 1960s to founding global programs that empower youth against environmental threats, Goodall’s journey exemplified how one determined individual could evolve from a lab-clad researcher to a tireless advocate on international podiums.

Born Valerie Jane Morris-Goodall on April 3, 1934, in London to a businessman father and a novelist mother, Goodall grew up in a household that nurtured her fascination with nature. As a child in Bournemouth, England, she spent hours hiding in a henhouse to witness a hen laying an egg, a tale she often recounted as the spark of her lifelong curiosity. Lacking formal university training—a rarity that later became a point of pride—Goodall worked odd jobs as a secretary and model to fund her dream trip to Africa. At 23, she arrived in Kenya in 1957, where she met archaeologist Louis Leakey, who recognized her potential and hired her as an assistant at the National Museum of Kenya. Leakey, impressed by her enthusiasm, arranged for her to study chimpanzees at Gombe Stream Chimpanzee Reserve (now Gombe Stream National Park) in Tanzania, backed by National Geographic funding.

Goodall’s arrival at Gombe in July 1960 thrust her into uncharted territory. Armed with little more than binoculars and a notebook, she immersed herself in the chimpanzees’ world, rejecting the detached, numbered-labeling methods of traditional ethology. Instead, she named the animals—David Greybeard, Fifi—treating them as individuals with personalities, emotions, and societies. Her persistence paid off dramatically in 1960 when she observed Greybeard stripping leaves from a twig to fish for termites—a eureka moment that proved chimpanzees fashioned and used tools, upending the scientific dogma that tool-making was uniquely human. This discovery, detailed in her reports to Leakey, forced a reevaluation of evolutionary theories and earned her a Ph.D. in ethology from Cambridge University in 1965—without a bachelor’s degree, a testament to her raw talent.

Over the next decade, Goodall’s Gombe research expanded into a comprehensive study of chimpanzee behavior, revealing complex social structures, maternal bonds, and even instances of warfare among troops—insights that humanized our closest primate relatives. She documented emotions like joy in play, grief in loss, and the capacity for empathy, challenging anthropocentric views in biology. By the 1970s, Gombe had become a hub for international researchers, many of them young women whom Goodall mentored, breaking gender barriers in a male-dominated field. Her work there, spanning over 60 years, produced volumes of data on a declining population threatened by habitat loss and poaching, laying the groundwork for her shift from pure science to urgent advocacy.

The pivot came in 1986 at a Chicago primatology conference, where Goodall confronted the scale of chimpanzee endangerment—deforestation, the bushmeat trade, and lab exploitation. “I arrived as a scientist and left as an activist,” she later reflected, a turning point that propelled her from the seclusion of Gombe to the world’s stages. In 1977, she established the Jane Goodall Institute (JGI), initially to support Gombe research but soon evolving into a global force for conservation. JGI now operates in over 30 countries, focusing on chimpanzee protection, sustainable livelihoods, and community-led initiatives. One flagship program, TACARE (Roots of Uplift), launched in 1994 along Tanzania’s Lake Tanganyika, integrates reforestation with women’s health education and microfinance, empowering locals to safeguard chimp habitats without economic sacrifice.

Goodall’s activism extended beyond Africa. In 1991, she founded Roots & Shoots, a youth-led program starting with 12 Tanzanian teens and now boasting 150,000 members in 120 countries. It equips young people with tools for environmental projects—from beach cleanups to anti-poaching campaigns—fostering a generation of stewards. “Only if we give young people hope can we build a better future,” Goodall emphasized in a 2021 TIME interview, a mantra that drove her 300-day annual travel schedule well into her 90s. As a UN Messenger of Peace since 2002, she addressed the General Assembly on climate change and animal rights, advocating for plant-based diets and ethical research. Her 32 books, including the children’s series My Life with the Chimpanzees, and documentaries like National Geographic’s Jane (2017) amplified her message, blending science with storytelling.

Goodall’s personal life mirrored her resilient spirit. She married twice: first to filmmaker Hugo van Lawick in 1964, with whom she had a son, Hugo Eric Louis (known as Grub); the marriage ended in 1974 amid her growing activism. Her second husband, Tanzanian parliamentarian Derek Bryceson, died of cancer in 1980. A vegetarian since the 1970s, Goodall lived modestly, often citing her Christian faith as a source of optimism amid despair. Honors poured in: the Kyoto Prize (1990), French Legion of Honor (2004), and, posthumously, the U.S. Presidential Medal of Freedom in 2025.

News of her death elicited an outpouring from peers. David Attenborough hailed her as the first to prove “scientists and primates could be true friends,” revolutionizing ethology. Britain’s Prince William posted on X: “The world has lost an extraordinary voice… She challenged us all to make a difference.” The World Economic Forum remembered her as a beacon of hope, urging continuation of her work amid climate crises. Environmental groups like the Sierra Club echoed her final plea: “Together, we can change the world.”

Critics occasionally noted her optimistic tone clashed with grim realities—chimp populations have halved since the 1960s, per JGI data—but supporters credit her with mobilizing action. Roots & Shoots alumni have planted millions of trees and influenced policies in dozens of nations. As JGI vows to press on, Goodall’s evolution from Gombe observer to global crusader endures as a blueprint: Science informs, but activism transforms. In a world teetering on ecological edges, her whisper from the wilds still calls for balance—and belief that it’s not too late.