Scientific Communication Techniques

“Our messaging is not working” Enrique Ortiz, a veteran conservationist and founding member of the Andes Amazon Fund, has spent decades translating the complexities of ecosystems into action. But in his recent commentary for Mongabay, he issues a striking critique—not of science itself, but of how it’s conveyed. “Facts are not the most important part,” Ortiz writes. “The current narrative needs a re-thinking.” That rethinking, he argues, begins not with more data, but with deeper insight into how people process information, make decisions, and respond emotionally to the world around them. Ortiz’s concern is not that people are unaware of climate change. In fact, the majority of the global population acknowledges it. But many remain unmoved, caught in a web of abstract language, ideological filters, and emotional distance. Scientific accuracy, while essential, often falters in the face of cognitive and cultural barriers. Ortiz points to the findings of cognitive scientists and neuroscientists: facts rarely shift belief systems. Instead, people gravitate toward stories, experiences, and social cues. “When facing uncertainty,” he notes, “humans make decisions that are satisfactory, rather than optimal.” This disconnect, Ortiz argues, is especially clear in environmental communication. Words like “rewilding,” “green,” or “ecological” may have once inspired clarity, but have since become muddled through overuse or conflicting interpretations. Worse, they sometimes trigger skepticism or backlash. In this fog of abstraction, the human connection is lost. What’s needed, Ortiz suggests, is a new narrative strategy—one that harnesses the emotional power of stories and speaks to how people actually think and feel. He draws from his own experience as an educator: while his lectures on plant-animal interactions faded from memory, it was the stories that lingered. This phenomenon, known as “narrative transportation,” isn’t mere sentimentality. It’s a neurological reality that helps ideas stick—and decisions shift. Rather than continuing to warn of catastrophe, Ortiz believes we should share stories of adaptation and resilience. From Andean farmers modifying how they grow quinoa and potatoes, to everyday consumers making environmentally conscious choices, these narratives offer agency and hope. They bridge divides and foster shared values. “Our messaging is not working,” Ortiz writes bluntly. “We need a revolution in narratives—and in how we tell them.” That revolution may begin not in the lab or the newsroom, but in the quiet space where empathy meets understanding—and where change can finally take root. 📰 His piece: https://lnkd.in/gmrWBcc5 📸 Hoatzin. My photo.

🌍 The Playbook of Resistance: How Industries Deny, Delay, Derail, and Deflect From tobacco to fossil fuels, meat, and beyond, the tactics remain strikingly familiar. When faced with the need for transformation, industries deploy the same well-worn strategies: deny, delay, derail, deflect. Here’s how it works: ❌ Deny: “They deny the science and the harm, just like the tobacco industry once did.” Whether it’s the dangers of smoking, the role of fossil fuels in climate change, or the environmental impact of industrial farming, denial is the first line of defense. ❌ Delay: *“Strategic dialogues” or “stakeholder engagement” are often used to create the illusion of progress. The goal? Buy time while real solutions are stalled. ❌ Derail: “Billions are poured into biased studies and campaigns aimed at distorting facts. The message? No need for change—everything is fine just the way it is.” Sound familiar? Fossil fuel companies have been doing this for decades, as have industries defending factory farming and unhealthy food systems. ❌ Deflect: “They spread unscientific narratives to shift blame and focus elsewhere.” Whether it’s greenwashing or promoting marginal, unscalable “solutions,” the aim is to divert attention from the systemic changes truly needed. 💡 Why it matters: This playbook isn’t just about one industry—it’s about all industries resisting accountability. Fossil fuels, tobacco, meat, big agriculture—the pattern is clear. They oppose change, not because it isn’t possible, but because it threatens their profits. This isn’t just about industry tactics—it’s about our future. 📢 How do we fight back? By flipping the corporate playbook—using creativity, storytelling, and community power to outsmart denial, delay, derailment, and deflection.

“If you can’t be simple, you will be ignored.” That sentence is an oversimplification. I used it anyway. Not because the truth is simple, but because simplicity is the price of entry. In academia, we are trained to embrace nuance, caveats, and complexity. In public debate, especially around climate and energy, that instinct often works against us. Attention is scarce, timelines are short, and if experts refuse to offer clear answers, others will gladly fill the gap with simpler and often misleading ones. The title of my latest blog post is deliberately blunt. It’s the hook. What follows is the detail: an argument for thinking about communication as a ladder, where we lead with a clear takeaway and then layer in context, trade-offs, data, and uncertainty for those who want to go deeper. Simplifying is not dumbing down. It’s an act of translation. This comes with risks. Taking a position invites criticism. Being visible invites pushback. But in contested debates, silence and excessive caution are also positions, just ones that cede the ground to louder and less rigorous voices. If we want research to matter beyond the ivory tower, we need to learn to speak two languages at once: the rigorous language of the lab and the accessible language of the public square. Being right is not the same as being heard. https://lnkd.in/egnRHi8k

The sustainability debate has shifted terrain. The new climate contrarianism no longer denies the data. It 𝗰𝘂𝗿𝗮𝘁𝗲𝘀 it. In my latest System Economics newsletter 👇, I expose three tactics used by the ecomodernist school of thought, those who argue technology and markets will fix our sustainability problems, and why these tactics are harder to spot than outright denial. 𝟭. 𝗙𝗼𝗰𝘂𝘀 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘀𝘁𝗼𝗿𝘆 Root everything in a mythologised Enlightenment where Reason, Progress, and growth are the same thing. Anyone who doubts the model is not just wrong. They are irrational, standing against the direction of history. The framework is self-sealing: every environmental failure becomes evidence that we need more innovation, never evidence against the model. 𝟮. 𝗗𝗮𝘁𝗮 Don't invent numbers. Select them. Show per-capita emissions, not totals. Show selected countries, not the global panel. Show the last decade, not the last century. The result? Genuine green growth, absolute decoupling at Paris-compatible rates, is across 200 years of industrial history essentially anecdotal. Every episode that did occur was reversed when growth resumed. 𝟯. 𝗥𝗲𝘀𝗲𝗮𝗿𝗰𝗵 Test a straw man and call it science. Formalise a theory in a way that strips out its most important content. Use a proxy that doesn't match the concept being tested. Present the resulting falsification as settled. That is what they did to the doughnut idea (a social ceiling and ecological floor). Meanwhile the actual doughnut data, properly measured and published in Nature, tells a different story. Chemical pollution is currently 3,174% above its planetary boundary. Ecological overshoot is worsening nearly twice as fast as social shortfall is improving. The richest 20% of countries generate more than 40% of annual ecological overshoot while experiencing just 2% of global social shortfall. The ecomodernist does not invent numbers. They select them. That is not science. That is 𝗰𝘂𝗿𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻. The mirror is flattering. But it is also facing the wrong direction. See the full Substack version here 👉 https://lnkd.in/eFHHpvqc

Discourses of Climate Delay 🌎 Discourses of climate delay subtly undermine urgent climate action by framing it as either unnecessary, too disruptive, or impossible to achieve. These narratives don't deny climate change but instead promote inaction through complex messaging, effectively slowing progress toward meaningful environmental goals. One common approach is to redirect responsibility. This discourse suggests that the burden of action lies primarily with individuals or other entities, rather than addressing the systemic changes required from industries and governments. By focusing on personal responsibility alone, broader, impactful initiatives can be sidelined. Another tactic is to emphasize the downsides of change, portraying climate action as a source of economic hardship or social disruption. This discourages support for essential policies by highlighting potential challenges rather than long-term benefits, impeding collective progress. The push for non-transformative solutions is also prevalent. This narrative often suggests superficial fixes, like minor fossil fuel improvements, as adequate steps. By promoting incremental changes rather than systemic transformation, these approaches can delay necessary shifts in energy and resource management. Finally, surrender narratives frame climate change as an unsolvable problem, encouraging resignation rather than action. This viewpoint implies that adaptation is the only feasible response, discouraging mitigation efforts. Addressing these delay discourses requires a clear focus on accountability, transformative solutions, and sustained commitment. Recognizing these tactics is critical to advancing genuine progress in climate action. #sustainability #sustainable #business #esg #climatechange #climateaction

The big mistake in climate communication – and why half the population never even hears the message. In my feeds, climate and transition are often discussed as if the problem were information. As if more reports, more charts, or louder warnings would make people change their behaviour - if only we communicated them more clearly. That doesn’t seem to work. Instead, polarization grows. What if climate communication only reaches half of humanity? In my exploration of the ”ancient group” and our different cognitive orientations, it’s becoming clear that “climate denial” doesn’t necessarily come from unwillingness. Our nervous systems are simply calibrated in different ways. Some are attuned to concrete threats, social stability, and the here-and-now - not to abstract, systemic, long-term risks. That, to me, is fascinating. In the early human group, there were always two core orientations: The open orientation focused on future, patterns, abstraction, change The social orientation focused on order, concrete reality, proximity, continuity Both were needed. Both were forms of intelligence. Both helped us survive. But in today’s society these two polarities have been pulled apart. Which means we often speak in a language only some people can hear. Others hear something entirely different - not a threat to the planet, but a threat to identity, security, and belonging. That’s why we can look at the same graphs and interpret them in completely different ways. And this, I think, is essential for the work ahead. To succeed with transition, climate communication can’t rely on facts alone. It has to find a better balance: between change and stability, abstraction and the concrete, global ethics and local identity, the future and the present, the open and the social. So the climate crisis isn’t only ecological. It’s also a communication crisis, an identity crisis, and perhaps at its core - a crisis of duality. And as long as climate communication keeps: - speaking in abstractions - triggering guilt - overlooking identity …we’ll miss the people who are currently doing their best to stabilise a world that feels overwhelmingly threatened. If we assume this is true (and the research supports it), then climate communication would need to: create safety before it calls for change include all our different perspectives build relationships, not just arguments make risks more tangible offer role, dignity, and meaning in the transition The more I read and reflect on the ancient group, the more convinced I am that we need to create spaces where different nervous systems, different polarities, and different forms of wisdom can form a whole again. Where everyone contributes something essential. Only then can the climate crisis become a shared reality, and only then can we act as the species we actually are - built for collaboration, not fragmentation. * This is from the work for my upcoming book The Starting Point. Follow and support the work - link in bio.

Are you ready to ditch the jargon? 🤐 It's the best way to connect with the public about sustainability, but hardly anyone is doing it. New research shows that most people in the UK struggle to grasp basic climate terms and policies: - 'Circular economy'? Only 4% of people claim to understand it - 'Carbon neutral'? 'Traceability'? They don't fair much better. - Even the concept of 'reducing single-use plastic' is only grasped by a minority of the public For those of us working in the sector, these terms are vital and specific. But that doesn’t mean they’re the right ones to use in the public domain. So what do we do about it? Luckily the answer is fairly simple. We need to speak plainly, specifically, and meet people where they're at. You see brands like Oatly and Fjällräven do this every day. More need to follow suit. I like to think we get this right at Hubbub, more often than not. Our Manchester Is Green campaign was a nice example, engaging football fans to adopt more sustainable diets by talking about 'tactical substitutions', not regenerative agricultural practices. When we skip the jargon, we start to strip away the confusion about the climate crisis and show that taking action makes sense. And when businesses speak plainly, highlighting specific benefits and results instead of generic sustainability claims, everyone can understand the role they have to play. What examples have you seen of companies who do this well? (A longer version of this just appeared in PRWeek. I'll post it below for anyone with an account. The research was by Trajectory Partnership and Fleet Street.) ++ P.S. I'm Alex Robinson, CEO of environmental charity Hubbub. We bring business, government and civil society together to create campaigns that make it easier and more possible for all of us to make choices that are good for the environment. Follow me to find out how, or get in touch for more. #sustainability #environment #communications

We have been telling people the world is ending. And then wondering why they feel paralyzed. A review published in Sustainable Development, by Su, Kaburu, and colleagues across institutions in China, Ireland, Australia, Brazil, and beyond, takes on one of the quieter contradictions in climate action: the communication strategies meant to mobilize people may be actively undermining their capacity to act. The argument is not that climate urgency is overstated. It is that fear, deployed as the default register of climate messaging, produces a paradox. It captures attention, briefly, and then generates the very psychological conditions that make sustained engagement impossible. Eco-anxiety, helplessness, climate doomism, the belief that it is already too late and that responsibility therefore belongs to no one, are not failures of audience character. They are predictable responses to a communication environment that offers apocalypse without agency. The numbers are uncomfortable to sit with. A survey of 10,000 young people across 10 countries found that 59% were very or extremely worried about climate change, and over half reported feeling sad, anxious, angry, powerless, or guilty. These are not people who lack awareness. They are people drowning in it, without a clear sense of what their hands can actually do. The paper proposes a reorientation: toward messaging that is positive, personal, and people-centred. Positive, not in the sense of denial or false reassurance, but in the psychological sense, mobilizing hope, curiosity, and joy as motivational states rather than fear and guilt. Personal, meaning closing the distance between the crisis and the individual, moving away from glaciers and polar bears toward the concrete texture of daily life, health, food, cost of living, the morning coffee. People-centred, meaning grounded in what people can actually do, within their real agency and real constraints. This is precisely where Eco-Affective Health thinking enters. The field has long understood that emotional states are not incidental to environmental behavior. They are the medium through which the relationship between people and their environment is negotiated. Fear activates threat responses, which can produce short bursts of protective action, but sustained engagement with a long-horizon problem like climate change requires something different: a felt sense of efficacy, of connection, of meaning. These are broaden-and-build emotions, as the paper frames it, states that expand the repertoire of possible responses rather than narrowing it to fight or flight. Article link: https://lnkd.in/d98vMNAG Follow our work at ewahlab.com #EWAHLab #EcoAffectiveHealth #ClimateCommunication #ClimateAnxiety #PlanetaryHealth #ClimateMentalHealth #EcoAnxiety #ClimateAction #EnvironmentalPsychology #PublicHealth #GlobalSouth

How do you talk about sustainability and climate issues in your company? If you’ve ever found yourself struggling to make sustainability resonate with your team, you’re not alone. At Microsoft, for example, they’ve found that speaking the right "language" makes all the difference. Being a tech company, their conversations around sustainability are deeply rooted in a quantitative, data-driven approach after all, they’re engineers at heart. They use the same principles that drive their technology to frame sustainability risks and opportunities. But what if your company isn’t full of engineers? Every organization speaks its internal language, whether that’s the analytical mindset of finance, the creativity of marketing, or the operations-driven approach of manufacturing. Tailoring sustainability messaging to align with these unique perspectives can bridge the gap, making it easier for employees to see how it connects to what they do every day. One thing is clear across all industries though: the language of science is essential. Whether you're talking to your marketing team, engineers, or executives, scientific facts are the backbone of any meaningful conversation about sustainability. Data on carbon footprints, climate risks, and environmental impacts provide a foundation everyone can work with. According to the IPCC, we need to reduce global greenhouse gas emissions by 43% by 2030 to stay on track with climate goals numbers. Take Unilever, for example. They made sustainability a part of their company culture by translating climate goals into everyday actions for each department. Their marketing team talks about sustainable sourcing, while their R&D team focuses on lowering the carbon footprint of products. By embedding sustainability into every part of the business, Unilever is empowering all employees to contribute, leading to a 32% reduction in their environmental impact. Sustainability isn’t a one-size-fits-all conversation. But when you frame it in terms that make sense to your team, it becomes part of how your business thinks and operates every day. So, how will you start the conversation within your organization?

The era of "casual climate language" is over. Terms like "carbon neutral," once a badge of leadership, are now a liability. We're seeing this play out in high-profile lawsuits against companies like Delta Air Lines and EnergyAustralia, who are being challenged for using offsets to market their products as green. Even Apple, with its carefully crafted brand image, recently faced a German court ruling that its "carbon neutral" Apple Watch claim was misleading due to the short-term nature of its offsets. This is a pivotal moment; the credibility of a company’s climate action is no longer just about its targets, but rather about the language it uses to describe them. Take, for example - 🟢 A recent report found that only 53% of the UK public can correctly define “net-zero.” 🟢 Klarna, for example, avoids "carbon neutral" and instead applies an internal "carbon fee" to fund high-integrity climate projects, positioning its efforts as a financial contribution rather than a compensatory claim. 🟢 Microsoft, in outlining its strategy, emphasizes that deep emissions reductions come first, with carbon removals reserved for addressing truly residual emissions. This kind of transparency builds stakeholder trust. 🟢 Brands like Nestlé and easyJet have also dropped “carbon neutral” pledges, acknowledging that the term no longer aligns with consumer expectations. This shift signals a move toward a new lexicon—one that is humble, verifiable, and clear. For those of us in the industry, this is a call to action. We must advocate for and implement precise, **simple**, and honest communication that truly reflects what we're doing. This matters because the risk of getting it wrong can lead to greenhushing— whereby companies go quiet on their sustainability efforts to avoid scrutiny. This is something you've likely heard me call out before. To be clear - I think the ambition towards "carbon neutrality" is awesome, and we should applaud these companies' efforts. Instead, we can't let the fear of not being perfect become the enemy of the good. While consumers care deeply about sustainability, research shows they prioritize tangible actions like more sustainable packaging and reduced waste over complex carbon metrics and accounting. The only way to move forward is with radical transparency and a commitment to speaking a language of action, not just aspiration. Check out this great op ed in ESG Dive - https://lnkd.in/ermaxtuZ #Sustainability #CircularEconomy #Greenwashing #CorporateStrategy #ClimateAction