The Climate Crisis Is a Story Problem — And We’re Telling It All Wrong
We are not just living through a climate crisis; we are living through a communication crisis. For decades, scientists have sounded the alarm with facts, data, and charts, but the planet continues to burn. Why? Because facts don’t change minds. Stories do.
Across disciplines–journalism, environmental psychology, ecolinguistics–the evidence is resounding: the stories we tell shape not only how people understand climate change, but whether they act on it.
The case for stories.
Climate fiction, for example, can shape attitudes and emotions around the issue, creating psychological closeness and empathy with those affected by climate disruption. While the effects may be modest or fade over time, even short-term shifts in attitude show the power of narrative immersion–what researchers call “transportation”.
Other studies show that stories trigger emotional responses more reliably than fact-based communication. When climate messages are framed as emotionally resonant narratives, especially ones with stakes, characters, and resolution, people are more likely to feel engaged, less likely to counter-argue, and more inclined to act.
Change the frame, change the outcome.
It’s not just about using stories. It’s about how we frame them. Research shows that messages that use “adaptive framing”–language that emphasizes practical solutions and community resilience without invoking polarizing phrases like “global warming”–can actually increase agreement and optimism, even among climate skeptics. These subtle shifts in wording can bypass ideological resistance and foster a sense of shared agency.
Language is power.
Beyond framing and emotion, there's a deeper layer: the metaphors we live by. The dominant “master narrative” of our time, that economic growth is synonymous with progress, has shaped public consciousness and policy for decades. This narrative actively suppresses alternatives like degrowth, sustainability, or common ownership of resources. If the stories we tell are the scaffolding of belief, then challenging dominant narratives becomes an act of climate resistance.
Why I study cognitive science–and why it matters now.
This is why I study cognitive science. Not just to understand how people think, but how stories shape thought–and therefore action. We are in a moment of escalating ecological crisis under a political administration openly hostile to environmental protections. At the same time, corporate actors are co-opting climate language to delay regulation while appearing virtuous. Understanding the psychology of belief formation, narrative framing, and meaning-making is no longer optional: it’s a frontline climate tool.
And whether we’re drafting public policy or writing a corporate sustainability report, the central question is no longer just “What should we do?” It’s “How do we tell the story so people care enough to act?”
Because if we can’t change the story, we won’t change the ending.
