The Mirror and Compass: A Conversation with Dr. Nelson Thiffault

In the foothills of the Canadian shield, stands of sugar maples and yellow birch stretch towards the sky. Their roots thread through a thin soil, which has been slowly building to cover the barren bedrock exposed when the last of the ice sheets melted tens of thousands of years ago at the end of the ice age. Today, mosses and fungi cover fallen logs, turning decay into renewal. There are millions of species here, from the moose ambling between the ferns to the bacteria that cling invisibly to every surface.

For Dr. Nelson Thiffault, a senior research scientist with the Canadian Forest Service of Natural Resources Canada, behind every dataset is a landscape like this, with species competing and cooperating, soils transforming, and disturbances reshaping interactions. For a researcher, that complexity comes with a paradox. How do you study ecosystems that operate on hundred-year timelines when most experiments last only three to five? Understanding the long-term forest processes that support resilience and climate change adaptation is essential for sustaining biodiversity, carbon storage, and the social values forests provide in a warming world.  

In this conversation, Dr. Thiffault shares insights on what makes forest ecosystems so resilient, why humility matters in science, and takes us on a mountain bike ride through the woods. He also reflects on his career and how a single experience as an undergraduate student changed his trajectory, leading him all the way to his newest role as Co-Editor-in-Chief of the Canadian Journal of Forest Research. 

What led you to become a forest researcher?  
 
I completed my bachelor’s degree in forest management with the goal of becoming a registered forest engineer in Québec. In my final year, I had to write a bachelor’s thesis, and one option was to carry out a small research project and present the thesis as a research paper. I was fortunate to find a professor who helped me identify an interesting topic and guided me through the entire process, from defining objectives and hypotheses to writing the report. That experience was decisive: I realized that if I could make a living doing research, I would do everything I could to become a research scientist. Soon after, I began looking for graduate study opportunities, and everything gradually fell into place over the following years. 

Much of your research focuses on how forests recover and adapt. Is there something you find particularly surprising or striking about the resilience of forests? 
 
What strikes me most is the remarkable ability of forest ecosystems to bounce back, most of the time, after major disturbances, whether natural or human-caused. Some species quickly occupy newly available niches, setting recovery in motion. Of course, the composition, structure, and pace of recovery may not always align with forest management objectives, which raises its own challenges. But the sheer capacity of ecosystems to re-establish themselves in most cases, whether as forests, shrublands, or even grass-dominated systems, continues to impress me. 

In many disciplines, there’s tension between long natural timelines and the demand for immediate results. What lessons from forestry might help other researchers navigate that balance? 
 
Forestry and forest science are especially challenging in this respect. What are three to five years, the usual span of project funding, compared to the life of a forest stand where individual trees may live for more than a century? And how do we balance the knowledge gained over such short periods, through the scientific method, with the traditional knowledge of First Nations, built over millennia of living on the land and passing it from generation to generation? For me, there are two guiding lessons. The first is to cultivate a deep and genuine sense of humility, recognizing that our contributions are only a small part of the broader human experience on this planet. The second is to do everything possible to ensure that even these small contributions can benefit future generations. In other words, whatever we do, we should strive to do it as well as possible with the resources available, and take pride in our achievements, while always remembering their relative place in the grand scheme of things. 

If you could take someone on a walk through one forest, where would you take them and what would you hope they notice? 
 
I would take them for a hike (or even better: a mountain bike ride!) in the forests on the foothills of the Canadian Shield, just north of Québec City, where I live. There, stands are dominated by yellow birch and sugar maple, interspersed with conifers such as balsam fir and spruce. I would hope they notice how the many different species, trees, shrubs, herbs, and mosses, each occupy their own niche in the ecosystem. We could dig a small pit to observe how fallen litter accumulates on the surface, becomes humified within just a few centimetres, and transitions into mineral soil that changes colour with depth. Ideally, our walk would also take us past a rocky outcrop, offering a view of the landscape and showing how forest composition shifts along the topography.

In your opinion, what makes a scientific article not just well-written, but impactful? What do you look for as an editor? 
 
Assuming the science is sound and has been validated by subject experts, what I look for is whether the study places its findings in a context that extends beyond the immediate local or regional setting. Well-designed experiments, especially when framed to improve our understanding of the mechanisms behind the phenomena being studied, can generate results that are not only directly useful to practitioners, policymakers, and resource managers at various scales, but also inspire new ideas and perspectives for scientists working in entirely different ecosystems or even disciplines. That, to me, is the real mark of impact: when a study advances both applied practice and fundamental understanding. After all, that is the role of science: to help us better understand the world we live in.

As co-Editor-in-Chief of the Canadian Journal of Forest Research, how do you see the journal’s role evolving in a world increasingly shaped by climate urgency and biodiversity loss? What does it mean to you, as an editor, to steward a journal that not only reflects a discipline, but also helps move it forward? 
 
I see the Canadian Journal of Forest Research as both a mirror and a compass. Our journal reflects the incredible diversity of forest science, but also helps point the way forward at a time of climate urgency and biodiversity loss. For me, being Co-Editor-in-Chief means helping to steward a community resource, making sure the science we publish is rigorous, but also fostering new ideas and voices. I am a firm believer that diversity of voices is a strength to science, and I see the journal as a place where this diversity can thrive. I consider that our journal has a key role to play in connecting local experiments to global challenges, and in bringing together different ways of knowing, from Western science to Indigenous Knowledge. My hope is that the journal continues to inspire solutions and spark ideas that future generations can build on, just as I was inspired, years ago, when I chose to become part of this research community.