Say the word Goldilocks and virtually everyone knows you’re talking about a happy middle state: not too extreme in either direction. The Goldilocks principle spans developmental psychology, biology, economics, engineering, and even Buddhism. In astronomy, planets that orbit suns at just the right distance are said to exist in the Goldilocks zone, a requirement for the development of intelligent life.

I believe climate communications should also exist in a kind of Goldilocks zone: not too hot to cause overwhelm, not too cold to see the message relegated to ‘future concerns’, but rather, just right for your audience. As with planets, just-right climate messaging is a precondition for the development of intelligent discussion and meaningful action.

So how do we get it just right?

Although I’m calling this The Goldilocks Model, the hot/cold framing is an idea I lifted initially from the science of willpower and self-restraint. Janet Metcalfe and Walter Mischel claim that humans can operate out of either a cool, cognitive “no” system and a hot, emotional “go” system. Where the hot system is impulsive, the cool system is all about self-control.

To better tap into our overwhelmed reserve of willpower, we should attempt to make enticing things (say, a donut), which are naturally hot, into cold things — say, reading the ingredients or imagining our future blood test results. Kids suffering through the marshmallow test will have a better chance at resisting if they can make the marshmallow ‘cooler’, such as by turning away from it, placing it in another corner of the room, or imagining it in black and white or depicted on a TV screen, rather than right there ready for the eating. Likewise, we want to make cool things, say, going for a run, into something hot and exciting.

Effective climate messaging thus attempts something similar: we want to either heat up what seems to many to be a cool, distant, or abstract concern, or, similarly, cool down what could be a very hot and alarming message.

The ‘too hot’ realm is the realm of doom and gloom, blame and shame, and “by the way, the apocalypse is coming.” ‘Too hot’ is a frequent tactic of mainstream media, and I’m not sold on its effectiveness. It’s too all-consuming and too immediate to be properly digested.

While hyper-dramatic descriptions may in fact correctly characterise the problem, overwhelm leads not to action but to paralysis – close the tab, think about it another time.

Sometimes climate messaging is simply overwhelming, but oftentimes it appears underwhelming (in scope, magnitude, or immediacy) to our audience. This is often the case when numbers like 1.5° are thrown around or units like ppm are presented to lay audiences (4 parts per million won’t sound particularly alarming to most people).

Climate messaging has also historically suffered from being framed as a future problem – something that seems to be changing now. The most effective climate messaging will be tightly tied to present-day consequences (or, failing that, very near-term future consequences). That’s not to say there’s no place for a discussion of long-term danger, but don’t use this as your urgency hook.

The most important step in crafting Goldilocks messaging is to acknowledge that there is no universal just right: what is too hot for one audience may be perfect for another (much like Papa Bear probably enjoyed his excessively hot porridge). Likewise, what is too cold or abstract for one audience may ring alarm bells in another audience — swathes of data and abstract units may be just right for technical leads but far too cold for other audience profiles. So there is no effective messaging without a deep and intuitive understanding of the intended audience.

The last element to consider doesn’t really fit the Goldilocks framing at all, but I think it’s probably more important than anything, and that is: find the right messenger. Knowing your audience is a critical first step, but your next step should be selecting a messenger who will resonate with that audience.

Recently I’ve been pondering the idea that the person delivering a message is far more important than the message itself. I think about my predilection for Barack Obama and my willingness to believe what he says, despite us diverging politically. I think about Gary Stevenson, and how many people have spoken of inequality but, lacking Gary’s authenticity, have not achieved anywhere near the kind of cut-through Gary has in a few short years.

We’re only human; we’re desperate to connect with others. We’re suckers for charisma and we love hearing from people who seem to affirm that they understand what it is like to be us because they, too, are like us.

Climate change is an unwelcome message for many people, and the best way — perhaps, the only way — to deliver an unwelcome message is to have it delivered by someone the audience either knows, or at least feels they can trust. Increasingly I believe we will need human faces and voices that do the communicating, rather than brand logos or government departments.

📚 Book: The Reverse Centaur’s Guide to Life After AI, by Cory Doctorow

Going through a bit of a Doctorow phase at the moment, but this short and funny book is a must-read for anyone thinking about AI and the workplace. Doctorow’s basic premise is that a tool like AI becomes either an enabler or an enshittifier based on how it’s used. When people are given the freedom to use AI as they find most useful, they typically report efficiencies and breakthroughs. When employees are forced to use AI, as is happening increasingly in larger organisations (i.e. when the use of AI becomes the target), stupidity reigns.

▶️ Video: Surprise…

Haven’t been on the podcast train lately, so here’s a fun video surprise for you.