Why We Shouldn’t Call the Climate Debate a “Culture War”

For months, I’ve been reading posts from environmental news sources saying that belief in the existence of climate change has become a “culture war.” Framing the issue this way is destructive because it draws a line in the sand, further polarizing an already divided community.

Notice that I said “a community.” Regardless of political spin, the United States is  *one* community. Our country is a composite community of many parts, some of which disagree with each other. Isn’t internal disagreement typical in any neighborhood, let alone a nation?

If one spends a lot of one’s time on the Internet – as news reporters often do – it’s tempting to generalize the polarization one sees online to the rest of the world. But people do not communicate the same way offline as they do online. Online, discussions become polarized quickly and easily. If I want to resolve a disagreement, I usually take it off the Internet as soon as possible.

I hesitate to frame *any* ideological disagreement as a “culture war.” Calling a heated discussion a “war” is a self-fulfilling prophecy. It tends to escalate the debate rather than reducing tension. And it makes it almost impossible to build bridges.

If David Roberts, Andrew Hoffman and other writers are genuinely interested in resolving the climate change debate and not escalating it, they should skip the military metaphors and start calling the conversation what it is: a controversy. Yes, it’s a culturally loaded controversy. But that is all it is. It’s not a war.

There are more than enough climate scientists receiving violent hate mail as it is. We need to use de-escalating language.

How does one de-escalate conflict to reach solutions? I’ve been studying this topic intermittently for years. Here are some ideas:

1. Find common ground. What values do you share with the people who oppose you? What can you agree on – at least, provisionally?
2. Set ground rules about civility and basic respect.
3. Don’t make assumptions about the people who disagree with you. This is especially true if you have not talked with them and don’t really understand their perspectives.
4. Take difficult conversations off the Internet. If you aren’t able to do so, moderate online conversations assertively and reduce anonymity. Research has shown repeatedly that online communication is polarizing.
5. Find ways of getting people out of the “us vs. them” mindset. There are organizations such as Public Conversations Project which specialize in doing this.
6. Stop seeing the political spectrum as a one-dimensional line between conservative and liberal. The best websites I have seen about political affiliation all agree that there are multiple dimensions to political preference. The Political Compass is a two-dimensional example. There are other models which are more complex.
7. Get to know people who are different from you in person and preferably offline. Go out in the community and talk to someone who isn’t dressed the same way as you are.
8. Stop taking things personally. (This is good advice for life in general.)

With that said, I find it completely understandable that Americans confronted with the need to dramatically scale back their lifestyles in response to an environmental threat would retreat into arguments that aren’t logical, oppose change, and dig in their heels.

We live in a country where wealth, productivity and consumption are highly valued by many people. Expecting our entire national community to suddenly put its values and materially based self-image on hold, even in response to a dire environmental need, would be extremely naive.

The environmental movement needs to offer hope, collaborate, and build constructive solutions in the face of intense fear, global risk, and polarized debate. Let’s stop talking about “culture wars” and start talking about solutions. We need new hope, better ideals, and a value system that doesn’t depend on what kind of car we own.

Translating Science Is Translating Culture

When I jazz information up to present it in this blog, I’m aware translating science can be risky. When I started introducing myself as a journalist at parties, some people backed away. There’s a perception that professional communicators aren’t trustworthy – and that polishing information for presentation makes it less real or less reliable.

I put some grit into the branding for this website because I am used to working with skeptical factory workers and scientists who distrust marketing’s varnish and gloss. I wanted to show people who value authentic and direct presentation of information that I do speak their language.

However, even though I speak their language, I still polish it. This puts me between multiple cultures. I see “facts-only” presentation as a statement of its own – either a statement that the presenter hasn’t had communication training or a statement that they are speaking to an audience which values facts.

There is no completely objective way to present information. One can seek facts supporting multiple viewpoints; that’s balanced journalism. But using the formats and buzzwords that convey scientific neutrality is a cultural statement; one could put data in Comic Sans font without changing the facts.

Marketers and nonprofit professionals have their own buzzwords too. The use of the word “outreach” instead of “marketing” is my favorite example of how social justice organizations avoid advertising language. This poses a challenge for me when I am thinking about advertising, branding and promotion for nonprofits.

Information technology (IT) buzzwords are especially difficult to translate. I’ve had several conversations with nonprofits in which I explained the value of crowdsourcing (as well as its occasional disadvantages). Other concepts, such as research database sharing, are less easy to describe. For nonprofits with few resources, sharing databases internally or externally makes sense, but this resource sharing doesn’t happen very often in organizations I know.

I organize a meetup, NetSquared Boston, with the goal of sharing information about media and technology innovation with Boston nonprofits. This meetup is one example of IT resource sharing. But it’s difficult to promote ideas like this when IT vocabulary is new to nonprofits.

While buzzwords can establish credibility, I believe competent researchers should also be able to translate their work into simple explanations. In my conversations with scientists, I find that they do this with their families and friends often.

Science translation is an ongoing and enjoyable challenge. But it isn’t just a translation of science; it’s a translation of workplace culture and values. Translating culture is a much more complicated art than simplifying vocabulary.

I learn from each encounter with a new culture and value those experiences.

Can Humor and Science Communication Mix?

“Why does it seem so taboo to be funny when talking about sustainability?” Larry Washington asks in the Shelton Group environmental marketing blog.

I think about this question often. Because I’ve spent so much time with science professionals, I have some insights about why humor might seem jarring to them.

When scientists meet marketers, they tend to be cautious and skeptical. Scientists understand that marketers can sell their ideas, but the suggestions jolt them out of their comfort zones. If the marketers don’t produce numbers that show their outreach ideas will work, the scientists may discount the suggestions.

Scientists are cautious for a good reason; they have a great deal to lose. They value their professional reputations very highly. If someone has worked for 10 years to complete a Ph.D. and has gone on to build a portfolio of publications, that person is not going to want to throw away the credibility he or she has worked so hard to build.

Scientists work hard to construct their reputations. So asking a scientist to put humor on a website can be like asking an architect to put an explosive under a newly completed building without knowing whether it will detonate or not.

Marketers should communicate to scientists that humor and other expressive forms of writing can be used in ways that are both professional and credible.

Although humor can increase public interest in science, it can backfire and reduce scientists’ credibility. In some settings, addressing this concern directly might help to resolve the problem. Involving scientists in the outreach process – for example, inviting them to tell stories, make podcasts, or participate in video projects – is another way to build support for nontraditional communication.

In person, scientists do appreciate humor – despite media stereotypes that say otherwise. They are often good storytellers, especially if they teach. But these stories don’t go into their public portfolios. Their official presence says, “Just the facts.”

What’s for Dinner? Sociologists Ask…

At what point can one say one’s addicted to reading a website? I contemplated this last night while paging through Sociological Images, a site which published an article on food deserts six days ago. The article opens with a blotchy map of the United States (shown below). The red and brown spots show locations where over five percent of the population is living without a car and is more than a mile away from the nearest supermarket.

This graphic shows lack of access to supermarkets impacts large numbers of people, especially in southern states. In contrast, Wyoming – a state which I drove through twice without seeing a single supermarket – is in much better shape. Is this because people in Wyoming are more likely to own cars than people in Tennessee are? It’s hard to say without more information.

When we do have access to groceries, what are we buying? An earlier article from the same website shows regional differences in meat, vegetable, fruit, soda and fast food purchases. California is especially interesting; areas of high meat consumption alternate with areas of almost no meat consumption. In Texas, there’s an area near the border where people are buying large amounts of produce.

The graphic also shows people in eastern Massachusetts, where I live, aren’t shopping for any of these products very often. Maybe we are eating pasta, fish or cheese instead. It’s a mystery.