Casting forward: A conversation with 2025 Stevenson Lectureship Award winner Dr. Jacob Brownscombe

Imagine trying to fix a watch while it’s ticking. That’s the challenge aquatic scientists face when working to understand and protect ecosystems constantly in motion, impacted by environmental change, human activity, and the unpredictable nature of aquatic life. For Dr. Jacob Brownscombe, research scientist at Fisheries & Oceans Canada and winner of the 2025 Stevenson Lectureship Award, these challenges are at the heart of his groundbreaking work.

Aquatic ecosystems are among Earth’s most dynamic and complex environments, but traditional conservation methods often fall short in addressing their nuances. “We’re managing systems for a future we’ve never seen,” Dr. Brownscombe explains, “and that requires tools that can predict outcomes beyond our current understanding.” From leveraging machine learning to applying bioenergetic models, his research offers a glimpse into the future of ecosystem management, where data doesn’t only inform decisions, but helps anticipate the unexpected.

These predictions are not just academic exercises; they’re protecting species and shaping policies. One of Dr. Brownscombe’s most notable milestones was his team’s work in the Caribbean, where their research influenced the design of a marine protected area. By identifying critical habitats for reef fish and quantifying their energetic needs, they provided policymakers with actionable insights to balance ecological and economic priorities—a triumph of data-driven conservation in action.

The stakes are high, and so are the challenges. “Ecosystems are inherently messy,” Dr. Brownscombe admits. “You’re dealing with incomplete data, conflicting interests, and the relentless urgency of ecological crises. But that’s what makes the work so important.” Through collaboration across disciplines, his team is finding solutions that are not only scientifically robust but also socially and economically viable.

In this Q&A, Dr. Brownscombe shares the challenges and stories behind his research. From his thoughts on the future of machine learning in conservation to the mentors who shaped his career, he offers an inspiring glimpse into what it takes to tackle one of the most pressing puzzles of our time.

With over 120 publications and a focus on ecologically and economically important species, your work has certainly had an impact. Which of your studies are you most proud of?

That’s a good question. I think the studies I find most intellectually interesting are the ones tackling fundamental theoretical questions. However, the applied outcomes of our work are what I value the most—both personally and for their broader environmental and societal impact.

Two studies stand out to me. The first is our role in establishing the marine protected area (MPA) around Western Dry Rocks in the Florida Keys. Our research program was instrumental in supporting the creation of this MPA. It was a large team effort—not just my work—but being part of that process and seeing it result in tangible conservation outcomes is incredibly rewarding. Creating an MPA is a rare achievement, and it’s something I’m proud of, both for the work we did and for the opportunity to collaborate with incredible researchers, conservation practitioners, and managers.

The second study relates to my work at Fisheries and Oceans Canada (DFO) starting in 2020, where I led the science response to the proposed Grassy Mountain coal mine in Alberta. This was another extensive team effort, building on years of prior research. Our findings ultimately contributed to the decision to halt the project due to its environmental risks, particularly the impact on fish habitat and endangered species like the westslope cutthroat trout. Indigenous concerns over water quality and other factors were also pivotal. Supporting this decision, which I believe was the right one for both people and the environment, was deeply gratifying.

You’ve been doing some novel research using bioenergetics and machine learning. Could you tell us more about that?

We’re at an exciting point in science and society with the rapid advancement of technology. I’m particularly interested in machine learning because it focuses on developing predictive models that can perform across a range of conditions, including those outside the data used to train them. This generalizability is crucial in environmental science, where we often need to make decisions about future conditions we’ve never observed.

Traditional statistical models can describe past data well, but it doesn’t mean anything if you can’t use them to predict new conditions. After all, that’s what we’re going to start seeing with climate change; conditions that we’ve never seen before, conditions outside of any of our past datasets. Machine learning allows us to improve predictive power and understand the uncertainty surrounding predictions. This leads to better decision-making for managing both the environment and human activities.

What is one thing you wish more Canadians understood about aquatic ecosystems?

I think we’re at an interesting moment in the public’s relationship with science and scientists. There’s a concerning perception that scientists are motivated by personal gain or are somehow corrupt. Conservation isn’t a field you get rich in. We spend a ton of time getting education and countless hours in the field because we’re passionate about the environment, the services it provides to people and animals, and we want to conserve them. While we’re not infallible and errors happen—because the environment is incredibly complex—our intentions are overwhelmingly genuine. I think it’s important for Canadians to understand this commitment and to trust that the vast majority of scientists are working to benefit both people and the planet.

What inspired you to pursue a career studying aquatic ecosystems? Was there a defining moment or experience that set you on this path?

I was fortunate to have spent the summers at a cottage that’s been in our family since the 1890s. My family was outdoorsy, and I spent a lot of time with my grandfather and parents mucking around, catching frogs, and fishing.

I always had a strange connection to fish. In Peterborough, where I grew up, there’s a spring trout derby where fish are stocked in a local pond, and tagged fish come with prizes. When I was about three years old, my dad handed me a little Fisher-Price rod with a worm on the hook. I walked up to the pond, surrounded by experienced middle-aged anglers with technical fishing gear, tossed in the lure, and instantly caught a huge trout—a tagged one! I won a prize, and that moment stuck with me. I’ve always felt drawn to fish.

Your award nomination package included heartfelt recommendation letters from past students and mentees. What do you think makes a good mentor?

Mentorship is something I’ve been grappling with a lot recently, especially as a parent to an eight-month-old daughter. Supporting others is challenging but rewarding. Ultimately, I think it comes down to emotional intelligence—understanding where someone is coming from and adapting to their needs. Work-life balance, for instance, means different things to different people. I try to be supportive and help mentees develop their own skills and goals.

Being in a project management role for the last several years, I’ve also learned the importance of explaining the “why” behind tasks. When people understand the purpose and value of their work, it’s far more motivating. Another big part is understanding your team and their personal career goals. I recently supported a technician who wanted to publish a peer-reviewed paper, which is rare for that role. He expressed interest, worked hard, and produced excellent work, and I was happy to facilitate that.

Connecting with people and what they find meaningful and giving them support is really what leadership is about.

As a recipient of the Stevenson Lectureship Award, you’ll deliver a plenary lecture at the upcoming Society of Canadian Aquatic Sciences (SCAS) conference. What key messages do you hope to convey?

I’ve been pondering what I’m going to talk about, and given the nature of the award, I’d love to pepper in some sort of early-career advice and lessons I’ve learned—quite often the hard way!

One thing I will touch on is that being a scientist, especially being an ecologist, requires an incredible range of skills that we often don’t get direct education in. Obscure things, like doing construction to build research equipment or troubleshooting engines in the field.

You’ll get tons of different advice from people. For example, when I was studying, science communication was the new rage, so everyone was saying, “Oh, you have to get into science communication. You have to be on Twitter.” But I see people succeeding with all sorts of skill sets. Some don’t necessarily need to be great at science communication or great at data analysis. You need a basic understanding, yes, but you don’t have to be the world’s leading expert. Feel out what you like and what you’re good at and pursue that. You can find your way in this field in a variety of ways.

If there’s one universal skillset, it’s good people skills. When you look around in our field, the people who succeed almost universally have good people skills. The better you’re able to navigate and collaborate with people, the easier you are to work with and the more value you bring to a team.

How you handle relationships is probably the number one predictor of how successful you’re going be in this field. That’s just the nature of science now. The days of having an independent researcher working alone in a lab by themselves are gone. It’s all collaborative. It requires a diversity of skill sets and expertise to get done.

So that’s the number one thing to work on. Spend time thinking about and gaining experience in working with a variety of people on different types of projects.

Do you have a favourite story or experience from your time in the field?

In 2015, I landed a post-doc to conduct a tracking project in the Florida Keys on a sport fish called permit, which are notoriously difficult to catch and had rarely been studied. I reached out to many local fishing guides in the area, and Texas-born Florida Keys resident Travis Holeman immediately called me and said, “Yeah, I’ll help ya, come by the house in the morning.” I showed up bright and early and knocked on the door, only to be greeted by a giant hairy man in his underwear who growled at me. I came to learn this was Travis’ younger brother, aptly named Bear. We spent the day driving around in Travis’ truck, hanging out at local marinas, telling fishing stories, drinking energy drinks (I had to fit in), and going by West Marine where the staff treated them like celebrities (they were on multiple popular fishing shows). We didn’t even go out fishing that day, but it was still awesome. Over time Travis became one of my best friends, and he spent hundreds of hours showing us around the ocean, helping catch and tag permit, deploy tracking equipment, and fixing our boat. The project was wildly successful, generating a pile of scientific papers and even supporting the establishment of a Marine Protected Area. It would not have been possible without Travis and Bear. Unfortunately, Travis passed away in 2021, and we all miss him deeply. He left behind an incredible legacy. I’ll never forget many of his maxims, one of which was “see fish, move to fish, catch fish.”

When you’re not working, how do you recharge?

I’m simple that way—I enjoy golfing and fishing. As I’ve gotten older, I’ve come to value my relationships more, especially with family and close friends. These days, a lot of my time is spent with my daughter—changing diapers and playing with baby toys—and I’m loving it. Investing time and energy into my relationships has become a priority, and it’s been incredibly fulfilling.