The Guardian - Nicky Hawkins*
The climate story must balance talk of urgency with hopeful and creative ideas if we are to inspire positive change
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| ‘The future of our planet – and how it is possible to save it – is a
story worth telling.’ Extinction Rebellion activists in London.
Photograph: Jamie Lowe/Courtesy of Extinction Rebellion |
“Hell is coming,” one weather forecaster
tweeted this week, warning not of further political turmoil but of the
hottest heatwave
in decades that’s advancing across continental Europe. Extreme weather
events like this remind us that climate change is not a remote and
distant threat – but a reality that is already taking an unacceptable
human toll.
In recent months, Extinction Rebellion and the school climate strike
have turned up the heat on the climate debate. They’ve both done an
astonishing job of getting the climate change back on the public and
political agendas. Their warnings of impending apocalypse, disruptive
tactics and robust demands that others “tell the truth” about climate
change have made huge waves. Parliament has
declared a climate emergency. The Guardian has updated its own editorial guidelines to
use language that accurately reflects the threat that climate change poses.
These demands and promises to tell the truth are based on a
core premise: if people knew how bad this was we’d do differently. My
organisation studies how we respond to and are shaped by the stories the
we hear. I welcome the renewed energy within the climate movement – and
the recognition of the power of language. But I fear we risk
underplaying the part of “the truth” that could set us free.
Most people in the UK know climate change is a big problem. We
understand it poses a grave threat to the future of our world. But we’re
not trying to save ourselves – at least, we’re not trying hard enough.
Communications science offers some clues as to why we might be locked
in this collective paralysis – somewhat able to see the problem but
unable to deal with it. Our brains are hardwired to jump to conclusions
without us noticing we’re doing it. When faced with serious and complex
challenges such as climate change, we jump to “can’t be done” more
readily than “let’s work through this problem and see the solutions”.
While bleak, “nothing can be done” is a more rewarding conclusion
because it’s quicker and easier to think.
The tendency to think fatalistically is fuelled by the stories we
hear every day. The word “crisis” appears in our media dozens of times
each week, appended to everything from poverty to patisseries, climate
change to chick peas. It is background noise. Stating loudly that
problems exist and have reached crisis point does not help us to move
beyond said crises, especially if they are hard to understand and tough
to tackle.
The stories we hear and tell matter. They shape how we understand the
world and our part within it. Just as hearing migrants described in
dehumanising ways flips a switch in our minds and creates automatic
negative responses, a steady stream of wholly negative language and
ideas creates mental shortcuts to despair and hopelessness.
Research is clear that to overcome fatalism and inspire change we
must balance talk of urgency with talk of efficacy – the ability to get a
job done. Too little urgency and “why bother?” is the default response.
Too much crisis and we become overwhelmed, fatalistic or disbelieving –
or a disjointed mixture of all three, which is where most of us get
stuck when anyone talks about climate change.
We are all swayed by what we think other people think and what we see as normal. In post-war Rwanda
a radio soap opera succeeded
where other attempts to change relationships and interactions failed.
By depicting positive relationships between opposing ethnic groups, the
soap made these relationships seem normal and improved dynamics.
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| ‘Extinction Rebellion and the schools climate strike have
turned up the heat on the climate debate.’ Student climate protests in
London. Photograph: Peter Marshall/Alamy Stock Photo |
We
need to change what’s normal and what’s perceived to be normal. And at
the moment we think, and are constantly told, that most people don’t
care enough. And the ones who do care are often not relatable to most
people. We’re led to believe that inaction is the norm and that not much
can be done. Upping the ante only by doing more to illustrate the scale
of inaction and the high stakes doesn’t change this, it compounds it.
When Martin Luther King inspired a nation and the world he led with
the dream, not the nightmare. When JFK persuaded the American public to
support the Apollo programme he balanced the need to act with the
ability to do so: “We choose to go to the moon in this decade and do the
other things, not because they are easy, but because they are hard;
because that goal will serve to organise and measure the best of our
energies and skills, because that challenge is one that we are willing
to accept, one we are unwilling to postpone, and one we intend to win.”
This is not the story being told about climate change. Instead we’re
stuck in a climate disaster movie – and it’s not even a very good one.
The threat is complex and can feel remote, but we’re told the chances of
survival are slim. There are constant warnings but few heroes in sight.
Our response is predictable: we switch off or we change the channel.
The climate story can evolve from its current emphasis on
chastisement and detachment. The future of our planet – and how it is
possible to save it – is a story worth telling. And retelling in ever
more interesting and inspiring ways.
To help us avoid the worst effects of climate change we need a steady
stream of stories that bring to life our capacity to dream big and get
things done. We need high doses of creativity and ingenuity from a wide
range of different voices. We need stories that show real life – and
real life as it could be. We need to be able to see, feel and taste what
we could do if leaders led and hope triumphed.
*Nicky Hawkins is a communications strategist for the FrameWorks Institute
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