Bridging issue #66

On behalf of everyone who’s lives Leith has touched, I want to thank Leith’s family —for sharing Leith with us, for walking beside her as she gave so much of herself to others.

Leith didn’t tolerate pretence. She was sharp, clear, honest. She could walk into a room full of noise and find the one voice that needed to be heard. And she used her influence not for status, but for service.

Whether it was in the Murray–Darling Basin, the National Water Commission, the Peter Cullen Trust, or mentoring young leaders in regional communities—Leith led with fierce fairness, deep wisdom, and a calm strength that earned her deep respect.

Leith once told me, “You don’t have to be loud to be powerful.” And she lived that.

She was the kind of mentor who didn’t always tell you what you wanted to hear—but she always told you what you needed to. And she was usually right.

In my own journey, there were many times when her quiet, thoughtful words of wisdom caused me to stop and re think. That moment of self reflection is a lesson that still guides me—and I imagine it will continue to guide many of us for years to come.

Leith faced her illness the same way she lived: with quiet determination, dignity, and grace. Even while undergoing treatment, she kept showing up—writing, mentoring, engaging. She gave everything she had to the end.

Her legacy is already living on—in the PCT Leith Boully Award, the upcoming WaterTrust oration in her name, and most importantly, in all of us who carry forward her values.

Leith didn’t just leave a mark. She left a path. To walk that path means speaking honestly, acting fairly, leading with humility, and always staying true to your purpose.

Leith taught us all so much. Thank you for your courage. Your friendship. Your belief in others. And your deep, unwavering love for the land, the water, and the people who live on it.

We miss you already—but we will carry you with us, always.

Keeping with the ‘flavour’ of PCT’s approach to leadership development, Leith didn’t ever teach me anything about delivering the programs (after all, we don’t teach…right?). And yet over the years since our 2021 conversation, she left me with no doubt about everything that was important about the programs. Moreso, she empowered me – and the Trust more broadly – to truly take ownership of the Program and make it the PCT’s Leadership Program, rather than Leith’s program. This was an act of great generosity on Leith’s part and is a big part of why her ripples will continue to reverberate throughout PCT and beyond for a long time.

To be clear – she always retained her passion for the PCT and its Programs. After every program activity there’s nothing she loved more than getting a detailed debrief (preferably with a cuppa and good pastries), and she was always excited to have a chat about Program plans when I had a crazy new idea to test out. When we developed the new Program location in south east Queensland in 2023, Leith accompanied me on the early recces. And after our long-term collaborators at Outback Initiatives had prepared the first draft plan of activities for the new location, Leith was an enthusiastic guineapig to join me in a road test of the plans (and was quietly relieved at the end of the day that we ‘made it’ in respectable time – I think the Fellows reading this will know what I mean!). 

Leith’s approach to ‘passing the baton’ to me, is the same as her approach to the programs, and her approach to her own leadership – such was the nature of her clarity about herself and what she stood for. For me that’s summarised in a few questions and challenges that play in my head at key times (in Leith’s voice of course):

• What will be in the interests of the greater good?
• Are you really being honest with yourself?
• What do you stand for?
• Time to put fear in its proper place. Where’s your courage?

And most importantly: 

• What are you going to DO about it?

All of this underpinned by a sense of generosity, grit, and deep commitment to Peter Cullen’s example and legacy. 

Leith looked to widen the circle of connection and involvement, to send out ripples that would create even more ripples. She sought to create personal change in the individuals she worked with, and to create impact collectively in our world. 

That’s the baton she passed to all of us. 

So, what are we going to do about it?

Leith was on the Board of the then Land & Water Resources Research and Development Corporation that appointed me as Executive Director in late 1999, replacing the inimitable Dr Phil Price.  It was a great organisation, with an exceptional board chaired by Alex Campbell from Western Australia.  In addition to Leith, we benefited from the diverse skills, wisdom and counsel of Mike Logan, Jason Alexandra, Dave Pannell, Sheila Donaldson, Warwick Watkins, and later (trading as Land & Water Australia) Peter Cullen, Ted Lefroy, Tim Fisher, John Childs and Bobbie Brazil.

Leith obviously had considerable expertise to offer our water-related research programs, including the National Program for Sustainable Irrigation, Cotton BMP, Riparian Lands, the Ord-Bonaparte Program and the National River Contaminants Program.  In my first CEO role, I most remember Leith’s insights and guidance on leadership.  Always constructive, with a warm, friendly, caring approach, Leith was able to make observations and give advice that would be acutely uncomfortable and challenging coming from anyone else.  

Along with Peter Cullen, Leith was the board member who most often asked the deeper questions of me as a leader, about what I had learned from a given initiative (especially those that hadn’t met our objectives), what I might do differently next time, and where and how I could improve.  

With a cheeky grin and a twinkle in her eye, Leith always stood her ground, exemplifying ‘frank and fearless’ in her advice, happy to be the grit in the oyster that ultimately leads to a pearl.

Leith was only one week older than me, yet she always seemed to have way more experience and wisdom.  I knew she served on many boards, but only at her memorial service did I learn about more than thirty director and chair roles.  She was an exceptional board member and chair.  No doubt the other CEOs Leith worked with would have similar reflections about her immense value as a critical friend and advisor.

Leith’s extraordinary contribution to the Peter Cullen Trust, notably through its leadership programs, are covered well elsewhere in this edition of Bridging.  Hundreds of Peter Cullen Fellows will have long careers shaped in distinctive ways by Leith Boully.

I know Leith also had an indelible impact on the Murray Darling Basin Commission, the National Water Commission, Murrumbidgee Irrigation Ltd, the Australian Landcare Council, the Cotton R&D Corporation, the Wentworth Group of Concerned Scientists and the Australian Broadcasting Corporation.

Along with Peter Cullen, Rick Farley and Phillip Toyne, Leith has been one of the most influential people in my own career.  Like those three, her life was far too short.  As with Farley and Toyne, she was not honoured by her country in her lifetime, which strikes me as a major oversight on our collective behalf, and a sad reflection on the Australian Honours system.

Vale Leith Boully, a true champion of and for Australia, its water resources and environments, its emerging leaders and rural communities.

The first time I met Leith Boully was in 2002; I was in awe of her ability to influence conversations and people. Her ability to say so much with so few words born of deep reflection and clarity of purpose. Leith, (as a then Director on the Board of the Australian Broadcasting Commission, a role she had from 2000 to 2005) and I were undertaking the Australian Institute of Company Directors’ five-day residential Company Directors Program in Canberra.  Twenty people from all walks of life in the Hyatt Canberra. Leaders from the public and private sector, the military and diplomatic core. Leith had turned up to learn as much as she could that would make her more effective pursuing her passion for the environment, rural communities and livelihoods. Her purpose showed. At that time Leith was also the Chair of the Community Advisory Committee of the Murray Darling Basin Ministerial Council; Board member, Land and Water Australia; Chair, CSIRO Biodiversity Sector Advisory Committee; and member of the Australian Landcare Council. So many hats. 

Although our paths crossed many times over the next two decades, in 2020, during COVID, I had the great privilege of working with Leith, Karlene Maywald and Michelle Campbell on the Australian Water Partnership’s publication “Community Voices”. The project involved many in-depth discussions on principles, values, and the lessons Australia should share with the world on what it did well, and not so well, in water resource planning and management. Her insights and experiences provided a clear purpose on lessons from Australia’s water management. Leith wanted to leave the best legacy from the story telling in the publication.

When I took up the role of CEO of the Peter Cullen Trust in early 2021 our first conversations were about the intent of the Leadership Program to attract the leaders who were ready to be challenged and to help them be the best version of themselves.  The Leadership Program was not intended to compete with other leadership programs but have a transformative impact on management of water and environment through the Fellows. Leith was the architect, curator and director of the program, but remained grounded in the values that she shared with Peter Cullen. Respect for people, community, and wisdom through both science and life experiences.  

As Leith’s health required her to step back from directing the Leadership Program, I asked Leith to deliver the Graduation Address to the Science to Policy Graduates in 2022. It was an opportunity to say thank you to Leith for the legacy she created for the Trust, through the Fellows.  It was an uncomfortable request for Leith, who was not usually at a loss for words. But a challenge she accepted, after some encouragement, knowing how important it would be to capture her insights and issue a challenge to Fellows. Who could forget her “recipe for leadership” unveiled in the address:

1. Close your eyes and envisage a large pot in the middle of a catchment.
2. Fill the pot with the fresh, pure, clear water of undiluted human spirit and curiosity.
3. Take special care not to contaminate with preconceived ideas, or to pollute with excess control.
4. Fill slowly; notice that the pot only fills from the bottom up. It’s impossible to fill it from the top down.
5. Stir in equal parts of people focus and pride in good work.
6. Bring to boil and blend in a liberal portion of diversity, one part self-esteem, and one part tolerance.
7. Fold in accountability and courage.
8. Simmer until smooth and thick, stirring in shared goals.
9. Season with a dash of humour and a pinch of adventure.
10. Let cool, then garnish with a topping of core values.
11. Serve to all in the Fellows Network and their extended networks. Notice how the magical powers of the combined ingredients break down silos, inspire action and provide hope for the future.

Vale Leith Boully, a friend, mentor and leader of leaders who was always humble and fun. 

I am privileged to be working with many, many others in now leading the Living Murray and driving forward its stewardship for communities and the River Murray. But I am ‘new’ on the scene. I only arrived in 2017 when a lot of the hard work had been done. A time when we were on the cusp of transitioning from the building to the doing phase – the water had been recovered, the works had been built and commissioned, and now the business of making best use of water and works to improve river health could really begin.

I have been in water long enough to have followed along with the Living Murray journey, but I wasn’t there at the start when it was an idea, a hope, a need, and a call to action.

Leith was there. 

Leith was one of those leading through her role as head of the Community Advisory Committee. I called that sunny afternoon because I was curious – what had it been like? What was she most proud of? Why did she think TLM has worked? What are the enduring lessons from then that still apply now?… so many questions! 

Such a long and warm conversation, but three things stood out that will be no surprise to those who have listened to and learnt from Leith over the years:

• People: Active community people with strong credible voices involved throughout.
• Transparency in science: Everyone got to interrogate the science and take time to understand upstream and downstream issues which built trust.
• Direct access to decision-makers: The Community Reference Group and Community Advisory Committee pulled together one page of advice – short, succinct and compelling messages – and handed it directly to the MDB Ministerial Council – and the thing that stood out most that there was a united community voice. No-one opposed.

After our chat the next few hours were spent with Leith rummaging through her archives and me rummaging through MDBC archives, finding all sorts of hidden and forgotten gems. The hard work, many conversations, good science, and the collective influence that got The Living Murray across the line.

My regret is that I didn’t call Leith again after that. We didn’t stay in touch, I didn’t call to share more stories. I would have loved for Leith as one of our TLM ground-breakers to have been well enough to see for herself some of the transformations. To hear from communities about what has changed, to see her impact on-ground, to see her contribution live on in the passionate and professional people who work in TLM today, to hear about what more is needed, and ideas for the next tangible steps. 

So many stories we need to keep telling and listening to – to connect across our network old and new. Stories of why, stories of how, stories of then, and stories of now. The magic in the passion in the people around us and realising just how much is possible with a shared idea, a hope and commitment to work hard.

On a personal note, I admit that when I first went to call Leith it was with some nervousness and trepidation. Leith had been my small group facilitator on the PCT science to policy course in 2016. I knew her as passionate, intelligent and fierce. An eyebrow raise that could make you squirm in your boots that often alternated with an incredible twinkle in her eye that sparkled with humour and warmth. I couldn’t see her infamous eyebrow on our phone call but I am almost sure I felt the twinkle. 

The gift she gave me as advice 10 years ago, still stays with me today and I would like to share it with you:

“Learn to walk alongside others, to teach and support, but not to jump in and rescue – to believe in nurturing the incredible potential in others, to make space for creativity, and marvel as you watch people grow.”

Thank you Leith. Your legacy lives on in so much of what you have contributed to, but also in all of us.

Brad quietly and respectfully makes clear that whilst we are making progress in valuing Indigenous Science – for example through last year’s inclusion of ‘elevating Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islanders knowledge systems’ in the National Science and Research Priorities – now is the time for our scientific systems, institutions and Academies to evolve, to commit to bringing the two knowledge systems together, to acknowledge that ‘Country is watching, and that our old people were scientists’.  

This kind of approach requires a profound letting go on the part of non-Indigenous peoples and systems.   

Brad made clear it’s about doing research by Indigenous peoples, with Indigenous peoples, for Indigenous peoples. This means the intellectual property generated rests with those Indigenous peoples – they decide what to do with their knowledge. Brad is asking for no less than a worldview change – this is as deep as it gets. 

In my view, this kind of worldview change holds profound opportunity for better management of our lands and waters, for reconciliation here in Australia, and for growing our collective ability to make better choices in response to the increasingly complex challenges that surround us all. 

Following a national plenary session where I shared reflections on systemic inequity in the water sector, delivered respectfully and anchored in truth, the ripple effects came quickly.

I had to escalate through my national networks to seek support to recommit to a contract my business had already earned due to the discomfort of my voice. During that uncertain time, I lost three employees, people who couldn’t afford the wait and had to sell a company vehicle just to continue to sustain operations.

This wasn’t about capability or performance. It was about the perceived discomfort of my message. The message wasn’t new. It was, as always, grounded in lived experience and a call for shared responsibility.

But it seems that even now, in 2025, some parts of the sector are happy to honour Aboriginal leadership, until it speaks too loudly, too clearly, or too truthfully.

This contradiction cuts deep.

In 2024, I was humbled to receive the late Leith Boully Award, a recognition of leadership that is “respectful, engaging, empathetic, challenging, and most certainly courageous.” The citation acknowledged my commitment to service, cultural connection, and driving systemic change:

“Speaking truth to power is in her DNA, and Kiara is never afraid to call a spade a spade, while creating space for everyone to come along on the journey forward together.”

And yet, shortly after this very leadership was celebrated on a national stage, it was questioned behind closed doors, my voice seen not as a pathway, but as a problem.

That is the lived tension of being an Aboriginal woman in leadership: awarded for truth, then penalised for telling it.

One of the clearest revelations from this experience is this, middle management is often where equity efforts stall.

It’s not usually executive leadership who oppose change, but their doors are often shut, and their eyes can be closed to it. Only to be reassured by their non Indigenous staff that ‘all is ok’.

It’s not always policy that gets in the way, even when we still lack the co design. 

It’s simply fear.

Middle managers (not leaders), consciously or not, often become the roadblock, not due to malice, but due to discomfort, control, or a desire to preserve harmony over honesty. These individuals often wield quiet power, making decisions about who gets access, who gets heard, and whose voices get labelled “challenging.”

So, to you, are you a middle manager maintaining the comfort of the status quo?

Or are you a leader with courage, seeking to grow? 

We see you.
We know the difference.
And your choice defines whether the sector truly changes and grows or simply pretends to. Hiding behind their Reconciliation Action Plans.

My business isn’t a consultancy in theory; it is a place of employment and empowerment for Aboriginal people. 

When my staff see what happened to me, when my community watch, when they see an awarded Aboriginal leader have to defend a contract due to the discomfort of her message, it sends a powerful, damaging message:

“Cultural safety is not real if truth is still punishable.”

True allyship demands more than agreement, it requires intervention. It requires you to:

• Call out fragility in your own ranks.
• Elevate Aboriginal voices without policing their tone.
• Protect livelihoods, not just reputations.
• Ask yourself if you’re enabling access or gatekeeping comfort.

The water sector is filled with good people. But, good intentions mean little when they crumble under pressure. When we celebrate Aboriginal voices at awards nights but exclude them in procurement decisions, we are part of the problem.

This Is the Line. Will You Cross It?

As I said at Voices from the Bush:

“This is what opportunity looks like.”

But opportunity isn’t opportunity if it vanishes the moment an Aboriginal leader speaks up.

It doesn’t look like uncertainty.
It doesn’t look like fear-based decision-making.
It doesn’t look like a sold vehicle, or a shrinking team, or silent avoidance after a powerful panel appearance.

It looks like leadership that can hold discomfort without retaliation.
It looks like systems that can absorb truth without treating it as threat.
It looks like courage, not in speech, but in action.

To the sector, I say this:

The bridges you say you want to build must be strong enough to hold the weight of truth.

Are they? Because if Aboriginal voices like mine continue to bear all the cost for truth-telling, while others hide behind structure, policy, or silence, then reconciliation remains a veneer.

And as the legacy of Leith Boully reminds us: real leadership isn’t about staying comfortable.
It’s about staying the course.

Always was. Always will be. Aboriginal land.

WSAA and PCT came together in 2018 to develop this unique Young Utility Leaders Program. There are now nearly 40 graduates who continue making a positive impact in the urban water sector and beyond.

The purpose of this Program is to build leadership capability across the WSAA membership community by supporting early career leaders to develop foundational leadership skills and the confidence required to lead and influence the water services industry in coming years. The Program also strengthens the connection of high-potential individuals to the industry, illuminating career pathways and future opportunities, and so enhancing retention within the industry.

This bespoke program is facilitated by the fabulous Benny Callaghan and is unique in providing a structured learning framework in conjunction with practical exposure in WSAA industry leadership forums. 

Congratulations to the latest round of graduates

• Tifhany McGeary – Urban Utilities
• James Larner – Mebourne Water
• Jack Davison – TasWater
• Nicole Zacher – SAWater
• Catherine Corkill – Southern Rural Water

Big thanks to our collaborators at WSAA including Erin Cini, Adam Lovell and Sandi Kolbe. Big thanks also to Dr Bek Christensen who played a key role in the program while serving as Programs Director with the Trust.

Natasha joins us with her lifelong commitment to environmental issues, biodiversity, community engagement – and, of course, to water.  She will continue to deliver on that commitment through her role with us and also as a Director of Greening Adelaide and the Parks and Wilderness Council. 

When she and I caught up recently I asked Natasha how she maintains her commitment and energy for these important causes in times of great uncertainty and crisis. Natasha lives on Kuarna country where the algal bloom is having a devasting impact on the environment and people. Her answer was immediate – we must foster hope and key to that is taking positive actions and strong communities. 

I pressed her more in terms of maintaining her own energy levels – we all know the personal call on leaders leading through transitions. Again, her answer was immediate and clearly something else that she is ever conscious of, though her answer also had a sprinkling of joy. I play the piano! I discovered that Natasha was a pianist as a child and has recently taken up piano lessons again along with her son. As a stress release her piano teacher recently left sheet music at her door. Natasha also spends as much time in nature as she can and is delighted her teenage kids share the family love of camping and the natural world. She also disclosed a secret (now not so secret) dream to write a novel that embeds nature. 

Talking about the why of wanting to write that novel led us to her why of joining the Peter Cullen Trust in this important role – ways to bring people in to the changes we want to see, unlocking the power of storytelling, honouring and centering the environment, interweaving diverse voices and perspectives and of course learning.

I invite you to be in touch with Natasha and share your journey with PCT, share your why and understand more about Natasha’s why. Her email is natasha@petercullentrust.com.au.

He stepped into his leadership role in Government shortly after the 2023 referendum ‘No’ vote. While not heavily involved in advocacy at the time, the outcome left an unexpected personal impact. For Ricky, this moment catalysed a change in focus, and a deeper commitment to shaping a more inclusive and purpose-driven approach to his work. As Director, he has focused on strengthening relationships with traditional owners, placing deserving Indigenous people in leadership roles, and embedding cultural values into the core of jointly managed National Parks. 

Based in Darwin, by deliberate choice over Canberra, Ricky emphasises the importance of proximity and trust in managing jointly owned parks. His frequent and easy access to being present on Country supports meaningful engagement with Elders and communities, ensuring his statutory responsibilities align with his cultural obligations.

Leadership, for Ricky, is rooted in lived experience and community. He has participated in several national and international leadership programs, but he attributes much of his growth to the influence of his father, mentors, and cultural upbringing. His leadership style reflects a values-based approach: one that prioritises family, relationships and trust.

Throughout his career, Ricky has been guided by a strong sense of personal and cultural alignment. While he admits he’s not sure how to define cultural safety, he knows when it’s absent, and that matters. He is committed to honouring his responsibilities to the Traditional Owners he works with in the Parks by repairing historically strained relationships, creating safe spaces, and fostering opportunities for growth. As he puts it, he manages the park lands and its people as he would his own country, with care, respect, and a deep sense of duty. 

With a clear focus on balance, Ricky models a leadership style that recognises personal wellbeing and professional purpose as deeply interconnected. His story is a reminder that leadership is a personal journey, one that must feel right for you, and for those you lead and walk alongside.

From Darryl Day

Vale Lucy Lytton, 2016 PCT Fellow. Lucy was an extraordinary and visionary leader who dedicated her life to leaving the world a better place through her work in groundwater, water policy, governance and advocacy. An inspiration, a friend, and a champion of science, Lucy, the hydrogeologist, dedicated her life to seeing the invisible – as shown in the title of her 2022 World Bank publication “Seeing the Invisible: A Strategic Report on Groundwater Quality” with co-author Peter Ravenscroft. 

Lucy was generous in both her professional and personal life. From her public profile, Lucy obtained her Bachelor of Science (BSc) from Curtin University, her BSc Honours in Geology from the University of New South Wales and a Master of Science in Hydrogeology from the University College London. Her work was transformative on policy development for groundwater allocation in the Murray Darling Basin. Perhaps less well known was her humanitarian support missions to Senegal, Chad and Sri Lanka.

In 2017 Lucy moved to Washington and took on the role of Senior Water Resources Management Specialist at the World Bank until her retirement in February 2024. In my role at ICE WARM, I was fortunate to work with Lucy on water policy, governance, and capacity development in South Asia. In formal sessions, and over dinner in Delhi or Kathmandu, we strategised on options to advance reform, and capacity development. Her focus was not only in-country, but globally, seeking to advance gender equity in water management, reducing over exploitation of groundwater, and addressing increasing levels of contamination of groundwater. Lucy was driven by the need to leave the world a better place. To shine a light on the importance of groundwater which is the source of drinking water for 1/3 of the world’s population.

What may not be known, was that Lady Lucy, who did not use the courtesy title, was the second daughter of the 4th Earl of Lytton. A very worthy Peter Cullen Fellow.

From Tara McCormack (2016)

Lucy was a generous member of our cohort, willingly sharing her vast experience and knowledge and it was clear to us all that she was passionate about hydrogeology in a way that was difficult to describe but was almost like a life force within her. 

In a program such as the Peter Cullen Trust a group of leaders come together and are challenged in someways to take a step back from launching into decision making and stop to listen to ideas, be open to being questioned and to learn how to receive honest feedback. Lucy embraced this with both hands, learning and sharing feedback with honesty and good humour. Her unique background enabled us to look at things through different eyes. She was absolutely a one in a million! 

We are proud to have had this opportunity to meet and share this unique experience with Lucy. The world has lost a passionate, generous person who we will all never forget.

From Bruce Campbell (2017)

I worked closely with Lucy at the MDBA on groundwater planning for the Guide to the Basin Plan over 15 years ago. Despite its infamy, the Guide represented the first attempt at holistic groundwater management for the entire MDB, which hitherto had many gaps and inconsistencies. Lucy and Tariq Rana provided specialist hydrogeology skills and experience that was instrumental in helping form the first comprehensive plan for groundwater management in the MDB at Basin scale, that featured new policy significant in scale and innovative in approach.

Lucy was dedicated to her field and was one of the most passionate advocates for the “underground underdog” of water resource management. In some ways Lucy was the perfect candidate for this advocacy, as it takes commitment to stay the course for a career in groundwater management in contrast to the surface water paradigm behemoth and Lucy’s strong character, along with her self-deprecating humour and sense of perspective, was just what was needed.

My last encounter with Lucy was at a Fellows event several years ago, when I was rapt to discover that she had completed the program. In joining the World Bank, Lucy had found a higher calling, expanding her advocacy to a global setting.

Vale Lucy. Hydrogeology will miss your passion and focus. We will miss your friendship.

From Jo Ellis

Lucy appeared right at the entry to my career. She gave a presentation in 2006 at a British Geological Survey conference on Groundwater in Emergencies, on her work developing groundwater resources for refugee camps in Chad. Her presentation was the confirmation and the inspiration I needed to pursue hydrogeology as a profession, with the mission of improving water security for people in water scarce regions. 

My career mirrored hers rather closely, geographically. After the UK, we overlapped in Australia, where she worked for Geoscience Australia, and I for Power and Water in the NT. I was fortunate to form a closer friendship with Lucy when she moved to the NT to work at the Office of the Supervising Scientist, where she established a much needed groundwater monitoring and assessment program for the closure of Ranger Uranium Mine. More recently, we both lived in the US, where she worked as a Senior Water Resources Specialist for the World Bank with responsibility for groundwater program development for two high priority countries for the World Bank, India and Pakistan – no mean feat. 

Alongside a mysteriously synchronous geographical footprint, we shared a love of walking, nature watching, botany, and politics. When I was in DC, we’d usually meet. Despite the often poor weather and the terrible American coffee, I always enjoyed a brisk walk with Lucy along one of her many routes around DC, and an intense discussion of the political affairs of the day. 

I will remember her for her passion and her commitment to her work in water, her dry wit and en pointe humour, and for her open ears and heart. She was an energetic advocate for many people and for many causes in the field of water. She contributed hugely to the institutions that she worked and volunteered at.

She will be sorely missed by many people, around the world. 

Vale, Lucy.

From International Association of Hydrogeologists

31 Jul 2025 – authored by Jane Dottridge, Francois Bertone

We are deeply saddened to learn of the passing of Lucy Lytton.

Lucy was a Senior Water Resources Management Specialist with the World Bank, working mainly on groundwater in South Asia. Before this she worked with the Australian government and with the United Kingdom water industry. She undertook humanitarian support missions to Senegal, Chad and Sri Lanka. Her concerns about pollution causing further water scarcity, adding to the pressures from changes in demography and climate, led to her more recent focus on groundwater quality.

Lucy brought a rare combination of technical excellence, integrity, and unwavering dedication to sustainable groundwater management. She consistently sought to elevate the role of science in policy and project design, believing that sound, evidence-based approaches were essential to protecting and managing groundwater resources. Her thoughtful insights and collaborative spirit left a lasting impact on colleagues and friends around the world. Lucy approached every challenge with humility and purpose, always advocating for the responsible stewardship of groundwater.

Lucy will be remembered for her kindness, generosity, and the quiet strength with which she served communities globally. Her legacy lives on in the work she helped shape and the people she inspired.

Jane Dottridge, who taught Lucy as an MSc student said, “I was honoured to have helped her to make such a positive contribution to applied hydrogeology.” Our thoughts are with her family, friends, and all those who had the privilege to work alongside her.

From Professor Craig Simmons, Pro Vice-Chancellor, College of Engineering, Science and Environment, University of Newcastle Australia

Lucy possessed an extraordinary ability to make complicated groundwater problems seem achievable. Her work combined technical excellence with a deep human understanding to solve complex groundwater problems with human-centred approaches. The groundwater profession will continue to benefit from her contributions throughout future decades.

The greatest qualities I recognised in Lucy were her intellectual abilities together with her strong but quiet and unassuming character. She preferred listening over speaking but her brief words emerged with meaningful purpose alongside graceful delivery. Her integrity stood unshakeable and her professional and personal generosity made a lasting impact on those who worked with her.

Lucy understood groundwater issues require a justice perspective and recognised their fundamental human nature. Through her work in Senegal and Sri Lanka she demonstrated a fundamental commitment to equity and access. She showed us that scientific work needs to serve human populations particularly those at greatest risk from environmental challenges and resource constraints.

Lucy established a lasting impact through her leadership of policies and projects as well as through her ability to create meaningful emotional connections. She entered every space with a warm presence which together with her thoughtful wisdom enhanced all interactions.

Her passing creates an enormous empty space, but her example shows us how to move forward.