Her entry point wasn’t a runway or a flagship store. It was the gym. “I was carrying my sweaty kit in single-use plastic bags,” she recalls.

“I thought: we can make something better.”

That “something” became a range of reusable, stylish, and functional bags — designed to outlast trends, survive a decade of use, and replace the endless churn of plastic and low-grade polyester.

The Unsexy Side of Sustainability

This episode is refreshingly light on green-washed marketing language. Rouch doesn’t promise to “save the planet” with a tote. Instead, she talks about the unglamorous, often hidden layers of responsible production:

• Working with mills that meet strict environmental standards

• Manufacturing in small runs to avoid excess inventory

• Designing for durability so replacements aren’t needed every season

It’s the side of sustainability that doesn’t get Instagram likes — but actually moves the needle.

Luxury’s Dirty Secret

Having spent years in high fashion, Rouch knows the industry’s contradictions. The luxury sector markets permanence but thrives on novelty; it tells stories of craftsmanship while quietly overproducing to maintain shelf presence.

“The most sustainable thing you can do is make something people want to keep,” she says.

That philosophy runs through La Pochette’s entire model: timeless designs, repairable hardware, and materials chosen for both performance and longevity. In a culture obsessed with ‘newness’, it’s a direct challenge to fashion’s growth logic.

Small Brand, Big Responsibility

For a founder, leading responsibly means wrestling with trade-offs daily. Scaling production could cut costs but increase waste. Moving manufacturing overseas might improve margins but lose oversight. “Every decision has a sustainability cost,” she admits.

“You have to know your red lines.”

It’s a principle she believes applies beyond fashion: responsibility isn’t just about the material you use, but the model you build.

The Real Question

The Responsible Edge asks whether it’s really possible to lead responsibly in today’s commercial world. For Rouch, the answer is yes — but only if you define success on your own terms. That means rejecting the idea that growth must be infinite and accepting that “luxury” should mean not just high price, but high principles.

Because sometimes leadership isn’t about scaling up. It’s about knowing when not to.

It’s a startling image, and a potent reminder: our baseline for environmental degradation shifts quietly, generation by generation. Today, she’s a documentary producer with Cornwall Climate Care, but it’s this early, tactile confrontation with pollution that laid the groundwork for her uncompromising approach to environmental truth-telling.

From Tabloid Stings to Truth-Telling

Claire’s path wasn’t linear. A former international journalist, she cut her teeth in the ethically murky waters of 1990s tabloid journalism — wiretaps, stakeouts, and all. One assignment required her, aged 25, to go undercover with a hidden mic to entrap a man allegedly dealing drugs. He wasn’t. “He was a lovely man,” she says.

“That was a huge wake-up call. I didn’t want to be part of that world.”

What followed was a redirection, not just away from journalism’s darker corners, but toward a more constructive, values-led mode of storytelling. Reporting stints in the Philippines and Venezuela exposed her to the vast chasm between natural abundance and human deprivation — insights that now inform her climate work.

Microplastics, Macro Awakening

Returning to Cornwall years later, it wasn’t oil but plastic that struck Claire.

“The whole beach looked like it was covered in confetti — except it was microplastics,” she recalls.

The scene catalysed her founding of Rame Peninsula Beach Care, a local clean-up group that grew into a movement. “You can’t clean a beach on your own,” she says — a phrase that could double as a metaphor for climate action.

But it was a scientist’s despair at a marine plastics conference that triggered her shift to climate filmmaking:

“He said, ‘Plastic is terrible, but the real issue is climate change — and we’re not talking about it.’”

That comment became the seed for Cornwall Climate Care, which now produces powerful documentaries on how climate change affects local communities.

No Voiceovers, No Preaching — Just Real People

Claire’s films are pointedly non-preachy. They’re fronted by “real people” — a farmer, a fisherman, her own hairdresser — to break down social and political polarisation.

“We interviewed a climate sceptic for our latest film. He was lovely. We agreed on far more than we didn’t,” she says.

That intentional dismantling of echo chambers is part of her ethos. In a media landscape often soaked in outrage and binary conflict, Claire’s approach is quietly radical: listening.

The Power and Peril of Film

The tension between storytelling and impact looms large.

“Film is powerful, but it can also greenwash,” Claire warns.

Referencing a recent Mintel article and Hollywood’s reluctance to mention climate change even in disaster films, she calls it “a cowardly, commercially driven neglect of artistic duty.”

But she’s not naïve about the industry’s carbon footprint either. Disney’s “Snow White”, she notes, had higher emissions than the latest “Fast and Furious”.

Her team uses electric vehicles and rechargeable kit — modest measures, perhaps, but ones that reflect her core belief: if you’re going to critique the system, you’d better examine your own house first.

The Real Risk: Not Being Fair

When asked what she’d change with a magic wand, Claire doesn’t hesitate: “Fairness.” She believes climate action fails not due to facts, but because people sense — often rightly — that the burden will fall on those least able to carry it. “People at the bottom are told to give up things, while the wealthy fly private,” she says.

“We need to tax the rich, and tax the corporations dodging responsibility.”

It’s not just a moral point. It’s a strategic one. “You can’t build a movement on resentment,” Claire suggests.

“But you can build one on fairness.”

A Vision Worth Watching

For Claire, the antidote to fear-based messaging is not false optimism — it’s agency. Her screenings aren’t just passive viewings; they’re catalysts for discussion, community action, and change. “Don’t just tell people it’s all terrible,” she insists.

“Give them something they can do.”

Whether or not climate cinema can “save the world” may be an open question. But in the hands of people like Claire, it can certainly make us want to.

The guests—Kate Humphreys (Chief Communications Officer), Edouard Minc (ESG Director), and Alma Santo (Format Manager and Banijay Green Co-Chair)—represent the rarely-aligned triangle of strategy, storytelling, and systems. Together, they reveal how one of the world’s most prolific entertainment firms is tackling ESG not as a comms challenge or compliance box, but as a cultural operating system.

“We produce 17,000 hours of content a year. That comes with serious responsibility.” — Kate Humphreys

🎬 The Real Battleground for ESG? Behind the Camera

Banijay’s influence spans over 70 countries and household names like Big Brother, Survivor, and MasterChef. But the ESG frontier, as Edouard Minc points out, doesn’t lie in splashy climate specials. It’s embedded in format bibles, carbon audits, and the design of studio kitchens.

From measuring emissions across hundreds of decentralized productions to embedding welfare guides in every format package, the company is building what Minc calls a “dual ESG strategy”: one for behind the scenes (decarbonisation, compliance, HR policies), and one for what appears on screen (storylines, casting, subtle norm-setting).

“Calculating emissions was step one. But our biggest challenge now is decarbonising how we create.” — Edouard Minc

🧠 Beyond Greenwashing: Authenticity as a System, Not a Slogan

The team’s approach to greenwashing is refreshingly clear-eyed. Rather than dodging the term, they interrogate its causes: stakeholder pressure, disconnected comms, and a temptation to lead with ambition instead of truth.

For Humphreys, the key is radical internal transparency—communicating internally before externally, and ensuring every campaign is “earned through action.” For Santo, that means making sustainability desirable and routine. Not every message needs a megaphone. Some should feel as normal as putting leftovers in the fridge.

“My utopia? That sustainability no longer needs to be said. It’s just how we do things.” — Alma Santo

🌍 Local Markets, Global Impact

With 23 countries and wildly diverse regulatory and cultural contexts, Banijay’s ESG strategy isn’t a top-down playbook. It’s a patchwork of locally tuned initiatives: from e-waste drives in Spain, to mandatory bibles that ensure green practices in unaffiliated production houses.

This decentralized model isn’t just practical—it’s philosophical. It reflects the media itself: local in flavor, global in influence.

“We’re not just a production company. We’re part of the media ecosystem that shapes norms. That comes with power—and pressure.” — Kate Humphreys

🪄 If They Had a Magic Wand…

• Minc would make cross-industry ESG collaboration mandatory: “You can’t decarbonise in isolation.”

• Humphreys wants companies to honour their values under pressure: “Authenticity is when you stick to your position even when it’s hard.”

• Santo dreams of sustainability so embedded it no longer needs a name.

Katie is the co-founder of enough., a new venture launching later this year that aims to empower survivors of sexual violence with a revolutionary new form of reporting. But this isn’t just a tech solution. It’s a design rethink of the power dynamics, pain points, and psychological weight that survivors face—often alone.

“The problem is not a lack of awareness anymore,” she explains. “We’re asking people to take on so much responsibility in a broken system. What if we redesigned the experience instead?”

🧩 Reframing the Challenge

Katie’s path to enough. wasn’t linear. She built her career in brand strategy, helping global firms innovate, position, and grow. But it was her own lived experience—and deep frustration with the status quo—that inspired her to step away from client briefs and into system-level change.

“This isn’t about replicating what exists or trying to make institutions slightly more efficient,” she says. “It’s about meeting people where they are, especially in moments of trauma, and creating something radically more human.”

With enough., survivors can document their experience in a way that feels safe, supported, and non-linear. The platform is built around behavioural science—acknowledging that trauma affects memory, decision-making, and timing. Reports can be time-stamped but held until a survivor is ready to act.

It’s not just empowering. It’s preventative. If a survivor chooses to release their report, the tool can alert others who have reported the same perpetrator, creating a network of patterns and protection.

🛠 What Happens When You Design For Survivors?

Katie describes how much of the current system is built around protecting institutions—from HR departments to law enforcement. But her lens, honed from years in innovation consulting, flips the script.

“I wanted to create something that protects survivors instead,” she says. “We can use design as a form of justice.”

Her approach is iterative, not prescriptive. During beta testing, Katie and her co-founder worked closely with a diverse group of users to prototype features, gather feedback, and refine their tone and timing. One insight? Survivors often want to share their experience—but not necessarily with authorities. So, enough. supports anonymous documentation, giving survivors a form of control even when they’re not ready to pursue action.

It’s a reminder that systems aren’t just broken because of bureaucracy—they’re broken because they weren’t designed with the user in mind.

🔮 What Would It Look Like to Shift the Culture?

Katie’s work intersects with a broader reckoning across sectors—from business to media—around how power operates. But what makes enough. stand out is its unwillingness to wait for cultural change. Instead, it builds micro-actions that could shift the ecosystem.

“We talk about ‘culture change’ all the time,” Katie says, “but culture is made up of small systems, actions, and choices. If you change the experience, the culture will follow.”

As her team prepares to launch in October, Katie hopes the platform can become both a tool and a statement. That we don’t need to wait for institutions to evolve—we can create new tools, new language, and new rituals for justice.

And if we’re serious about responsible business, perhaps this is what responsibility really looks like: not just acknowledging harm, but designing systems that make it harder to do harm in the first place.

There’s the kind of story you expect on a business podcast—and then there’s the kind Seneca tells. Her career-defining moment didn’t start with a sustainability framework or an MBA thesis. It started in the Atlantic Ocean. Alone. At night. Having just been flung from a sinking boat.

The experience left her with PTSD, temporary memory loss, and a recalibrated view of value—personal, professional, and environmental.

“I realised I couldn’t just make money—I had to leave a legacy,” she reflects.

That moment didn’t just mark her survival; it sparked a transformation.

Today, as Head of Sustainability at Alshaya Group—one of the Middle East’s largest retail franchise partners—Seneca isn’t just driving ESG from within; she’s reimagining what sustainability leadership looks like when it’s grounded in lived experience and systems insight.

🔄 Circular Thinking in a Linear World

At the core of Seneca’s philosophy is a simple but powerful idea: most waste isn’t rubbish, it’s misrecognised value.

Drawing on the article “Zero Waste Isn’t Just an Environmental Strategy—It’s a Business Strategy,” she underscores how waste—whether plastic, packaging, or people’s time—starts with procurement decisions. “Buy smarter, waste less,” she says. It’s not just about being lean. It’s about being honest.

Seneca recounts a pilot with Ericsson that slashed landfill waste by nearly 40%. Scale that, and you’re looking at over a million dollars in savings.

“But it still took me nine months to convince the right people,” she notes.

That delay? Not cost. Not tech. Just the drag of disbelief.

Her magic wand, if she had one? Not more regulation. Just awareness. “I’d wave it and everyone would go: ‘Ahhh.’ That’s the shift. That moment of realisation.”

🛍️ The Myth of the Virtuous Consumer

Seneca’s realism extends to the market. She’s seen enough to know that sustainability doesn’t sell itself.

“Consumers say they care—but they still shop for value. That’s not hypocrisy. That’s human.”

Referencing a BCG study showing the gap between climate concern and consumer action in the Gulf, she calls on brands to ditch eco-performative marketing. “Don’t lead with guilt. Lead with utility. No one pays more for less—no matter how green the packaging.”

Her call isn’t for less ambition—but more behavioural honesty.

🧠 Recovery, Systems, and Emotional Labour

What sets Seneca apart isn’t just technical competence—it’s her willingness to bring her full humanity to the table.

From navigating post-traumatic stress to completing Harvard Extension courses at 1am from Kuwait, she models a rare integration: academic depth, operational grit, and emotional insight. Every story she tells is a lesson in the unseen cost of change.

Whether it’s pushing back on inefficient legacy systems or holding space for team wellbeing, she sees transformation not as a directive—but as an act of seeing.

“Change doesn’t come from pressure alone,” she says. “It comes from people being able to see.”

Final Thought

Seneca’s leadership is quietly radical. She’s not broadcasting slogans. She’s modelling a different way of thinking—where clarity is hard-won, waste is reframed, and courage looks a lot like consistency.

In a world hungry for breakthrough solutions, her gift is something subtler: behavioural clarity forged through lived experience. Less hype. More vision. And a deeply human kind of wisdom.

In a world teetering on ecological tipping points, Kat is betting on something smaller, more agile, and often overlooked: the SME.

“Each small business is part of a bigger business,” Kat says. “And if we’re going to shift the system, this is where it starts.”

🧩 Why SMEs Matter More Than You Think

Kat’s experience spans some of the biggest names in finance, tech, and facilities management — from Barclays to ISS. But it’s through working with small and medium-sized enterprises that she’s seen the most rapid, tangible change.

SMEs:

• Are closer to their people, suppliers, and communities

• Can make big changes without long bureaucratic chains

• Often have leaders directly involved in sustainability decision-making

• Can drive transformation up the supply chain, influencing bigger players

“I helped a relocation company switch from diesel to hydrotreated vegetable oil (HVO). Overnight, they cut emissions by 90% — and it took one conversation with the CEO.”

📉 What’s Holding SMEs Back?

Despite the potential, many SMEs are still lagging behind. The barriers Kat identifies are both structural and cultural:

• ❌ Limited budgets

• ❌ Lack of in-house expertise

• ❌ Unclear standards or frameworks

• ❌ Misconception that ESG is a luxury, not a necessity

She argues that the watering down of CSRD reporting requirements for SMEs is a missed opportunity. “Ironically, they’re the ones who would benefit most from frameworks like double materiality. It helps them understand where they should act — and why it’s not just about carbon, but risk, resilience, and opportunity.”

📈 Small Businesses, Big Influence

Kat is clear: action at the SME level doesn’t just result in smaller footprints. It creates pressure from below, challenging larger corporates to evolve.

“It’s not just about compliance. It’s about value creation. SMEs can offer sustainable products and services that make their clients’ ESG strategies easier.”

Think: sustainable relocation services, circular supply chain solutions, low-carbon facilities support — all being developed by nimble, purpose-led SMEs.

🌱 A Personal Model for Systems Change

Kat now balances her consultancy work with local sustainability projects in Spain — including drought-resilient garden design. The personal connection with nature keeps her work grounded and energised.

“There’s no growth in the comfort zone. You have to do the hard thing. That’s how change happens — in businesses and in life.”

And what does her magic wand moment look like?

“If I could change one thing, it would be to instil ethics and a sense of responsibility in every business leader. That’s when real change happens — when leadership walks the talk.”