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    Feeling AI-lienated …. and what we can do about it

    It's been more than a year since I first drafted a post trying to express why the rapid integration of AI across work and society - and especially its normalisation in environmental communication - feels so eerie and uncomfortable. Maybe I didn't finish or publish it back then because I was quietly hopeful that the hype wouldn't last or that the loudest voices would be more critical of the 'AI boom' (or maybe more aligned with my own perspective on it)...


    But I’m writing this now for three practical reasons: 

    1. 📋 To summarise the main concerns I have about ubiquitous, unregulated AI becoming so quickly integrated across society with the idea that short summaries of the issues in each area would be a useful to anyone - either as an overview or as a starting point for deeper research or communication.
    2. 🤖 To address the dominant pro-AI arguments I’m now hearing all over the place - from my work contexts to chats with strangers at weddings in the hope this can contribute to us all having more constructive, critical conversations about AI, however much we have or have not embraced it.
    3. 💭 To share my approach to AI to explain my stance to people interested in working together, and to highlight some of the actions we can all take to challenge and limit the harm AI is contributing to.


    … and also for a more emotional reason:

    • 🫀 Seeing so much pro-AI content - and a wide acceptance of it - is really, really getting me down. If this does nothing else but show to somebody out there that they're not alone in feeling concern, frustration, confusion (amongst other emotions), it will have been worthwhile.


    AI is affecting me personally and professionally. Over the past year alone I’ve seen my own writing used to train models that have then ‘replaced’ the paid roles I used to feel confident I was having a positive impact doing (and used to be able to rely on for the rent!). I’ve seen a massive downturn in the quality and availability of writing and research roles, with an increasing proportion of opportunities in sustainability explicitly prioritising the use of AI within them. I'm fairly sure I’ve received AI-generated rejection emails off the back of job applications I’m not convinced a human ever read. Where I have managed to pick up work, I’ve sometimes been given frustrating AI-written tasks that don’t make sense or aren’t possible to complete due to ‘hallucinations’ within them. I’ve been asked to test supposedly 'groundbreaking' AI platforms that do nothing to address any of the major problems I come up against in sustainability communication or action. 


    But this is much bigger than me. The rise of AI affects all of us, especially if we care about the Earth remaining habitable and want to see fair, equitable societies existing upon it. 



    What do you mean by AI?

    Artificial Intelligence (AI) is used to refer to a whole host of different computational systems that process lots of data. Throughout the 2010s, most of what I was hearing about as “AI” was in academic meetings, usually where researchers were using machine learning approaches to discover patterns hidden deep within large datasets.  Those ‘traditional’ systems were (and still are) doing things that humans could not do without them, for example finding tiny regions of similarity in the medical scans of thousands of patients with the same disease and applying that learning to inform the diagnosis of others.


    What we have seen recently is a huge explosion of AI with a much broader scope: replicating - or attempting to replicate - human reasoning, decision-making or creativity for tasks that humans could already do without it. It's these applications I will be referring to when I talk about “AI” here, primarily ‘smart’ tools and features such as AI agents, chatbots, image/video generators etc that generate ‘content’ upon command.

    


    What's triggering my AI alarm?

    👣 AI has an enormous, direct environmental footprint… which is increasing rapidly

    It could not be more urgent that we slash greenhouse gas emissions, protect freshwater supplies and move towards much more regenerative systems, but right now AI is dragging us in the opposite direction. [click for detail]

    The lack of detail and transparency in reporting makes it very difficult to put precise figures to the impacts, but the best estimates I could find indicate that AI systems in 2025:

    1. directly drove carbon emissions at a similar rate to the whole of Greece or Chile, or New York City (~30–80 million tonnes); and
    2. directly drove water consumption on a par with global annual consumption of bottled water, or the entire water footprint of Iceland (~300-800 billion litres). 


    This is rising fast with AI-induced water consumption and carbon emissions from data centres alone projected to double - if not quadruple - over the next four years. In the UK the climate impacts of AI datacentres were dramatically underestimated, with recent government data suggesting they could be ten times higher than previously calculated. These could add over 100 million tonnes to UK CO2 emissions over the next decade alone, which is hard to see as compatible with the UK’s legally binding commitments to cut approximately this amount from its annual emissions every five years. 


    Despite talk of their commitment to sustainability, around 5 years on from making pledges to radically cut CO2 emissions, tech companies’ footprints look worse than ever as they pour resources into AI. Analysis of tech giants’ self-reported data showed: “Google’s emissions jumped nearly 50%. Amazon’s rose by 33%, Microsoft’s more than 23% and Meta’s more than 60%.” 


    AI-driven electricity demand is serving to maintain and even increase the demand for fossil fuels and other destructive, unsustainable forms of energy generation. This has already meant the maintenance of coal plants where they were otherwise due to be phased out, more gas plants, more opportunities for unsustainable biomass projects, and ultimately even more profit for polluters at the expense of a habitable planet for us all. 


    The additional water stress caused by AI data centres is about the last thing we need amidst the absolute necessity to protect freshwater supplies in a heating world. But nonetheless it’s already leading to restrictions in households’ access to water, contributing to ‘mega-droughts’, and devastating ecosystems.


    Impacts linked to AI data centres and the wider supply chains span much further too: exacerbating air pollution, affecting land use, driving e-waste and the harms caused by mining for minerals to name a few. And this is before the effects of what AI is used to do are even factored in (see below).


    💥 How AI is used: Fuelling consumption & facilitating escalations in disinformation, surveillance and violence.

    Technology itself is not inherently ‘bad’, but within our current societal context it is being leveraged to do incredibly destructive things with less care and conscience. [click for detail]

    Whilst there are lots of possible positive applications for them, most of what I’m seeing AI tools used for is in assisting us to continue carrying out all the harms we’ve been wreaking on ourselves and the world around us… only now we can do so with more speed, less thought, less effort and often more error (see below). I think this is what has saddened me the most. 


    It’s turbocharging overconsumption when we are already beyond the limits where our systems can recover from it. It’s being used to promote dangerous political agendas, as a tool for manipulation and misinformation. It’s facilitating mass surveillance at a time where authoritarianism is on the rise. Amidst high and escalating global tensions, we are seeing its creeping use in warfare (for example in autonomous weapons).  It’s burning us out, isolating us and further dividing us when we need to be connecting with one another and working together.

    💰 Stark inequity in who benefits, who loses out, and who is exploited along the way.

    Highly extractive and unjust processes are routinely used to build, train and operate AI models. This primarily benefits a comparatively small group of already privileged, powerful people. [click for detail]

    Enormous investment in AI has made a small number of people extraordinarily wealthy (or even more extraordinarily so) but will benefit ‘trickle down’ to the rest of us? And could that benefit possibly justify the social and environmental harms we are seeing? In the absence of very careful planning, requiring significant involvement of and leadership from workforces, new technologies have tended to benefit the most powerful at the expense of the majority. What we are seeing right now with AI shows no sign of bucking that trend. 


    Training the models that underpin major AI platforms has required massive amounts of data, much of it taken without consent or compensation made to the creators of that data. Adding insult to injury, this kind of “brazen theft” is undermining the ability of writers and artists to make a living. [As a result a whole host of plaintiffs including authors, publishers and artists have resorted to suing Meta, Open AI, Anthropic and others for copyright infringement].


    Less well-publicised are the stories of how the proliferation of AI systems and infrastructure is fuelling exploitative working practices in some of the poorest communities in the world. This includes low paid, precarious work, which can be physically dangerous, mentally traumatising or both (examples in mineral extraction and content moderation). 

    ❌ AI tools replicate bias and make serious mistakes.

    Underlying prejudice and authentic-looking ‘hallucinations’ plague AI outputs. Those biases and errors have real-world consequences. [click for detail]

    The large language models (LLMs) underlying text-based AI tools (such as chatbots) are probability-based: they predict the next words based on everything that’s been used to train them. This makes them very prone to reproducing and reinforcing the underlying biases of their training data, and liable to create entirely fictional statements presented as if they’re factual . 


    Far from being neutral information sources, AI tools have shown covert racial bias, gender bias, and a shift towards the political right. Since the use of AI has become so widespread, this is already widening equality gaps, contributing to discrimination in hiring procedures, policing, healthcare provision and even medical diagnosis to name a few. 


    And whilst tools and their training might be getting more sophisticated, their outputs are still a long way from being reliably accurate. A recent study led by the BBC highlighted that AI assistants “routinely misrepresent news content no matter which language, territory, or AI platform is tested”, with “significant” issues in nearly half of the responses studied.  


    Errors and ‘hallucinations’ like this are misleading and risky for users of AI tools: they stand to degrade the quality, trustworthiness and overall value of work that has been produced using it. And whether we choose to use those tools or not, we are all at risk from the impacts of their mistakes.  We already know that AI-created falsehoods are making their way into everything from health and wellbeing advice to evidence at criminal trials. The consequences can be extremely serious: for example, errors in facial recognition are known to have led to numerous wrongful arrests - and lengthy imprisonment - of people who could not possibly have committed the crimes they are accused of.


    Despite safeguards, AI tools such as chatbots have been directly linked to severe mental health outcomes and dozens of tragic deaths. As their use increases we can expect to see more cases where they cause serious harm to users, override human instructions or are used maliciously

    🧠  Rapid adoption of AI may be degrading our human abilities and accelerating the commodification of 'intelligence'.

    By outsourcing learning and communication tasks to AI, we run the risk of losing the cognitive and interpersonal skills essential for addressing the complex and escalating crises we face. [click for detail]

    Emerging experimental evidence indicates that interacting with AI tools might progressively and rapidly undermine our ability to learn effectively. It stands to degrade our analytical, creative, relational and critical thinking skills, contributing to reliance on technologies we don’t fully understand… and don’t have free, equal nor guaranteed access to. 


    Earlier this year the CEO of OpenAI (the company that owns chat GPT) said publicly“We see a future where intelligence is a utility, like electricity or water, and people buy it from us on a meter”.  That future - one that sounds deeply dystopian to me - is much more likely to be enabled the more we offload tasks to AI that we could otherwise do (or learn to do) independently. 

    👀 A worrying lack of oversight, foresight, regulation and consequence for unethical practices. 

    Swept up in the hype around AI, corporate interests continue to be prioritised over public protection. [click for detail]

    With the rapid pace of AI integration and with millions in corporate money being ploughed into pro-AI lobbying, it’s perhaps unsurprising that regulation of AI has been pretty limited. Where governments have legislated on AI, policies often explicitly emphasised enabling “innovation” over proceeding with caution. This has come at the expense of preventing harm and upholding other ethical principles (see above). 


    Transparency and accountability are severely lacking across the sector, all whilst companies are building increasingly more complex, more autonomous AI systems without credible plans to prevent or deal with catastrophic outcomes.  


    The loudest narratives

    Despite all of these causes for concern and caution, we are now exposed to a range of arguments, often made uncritically, about why we should embrace AI’s increasing entanglement into our lives. These narratives are used to shut down challenges to the rapid normalisation and pervasive integration of AI across society; they’re being used to delay action to regulate or even properly discuss how and where AI is used. 


    It can feel exhausting and alienating to be on the receiving end of these narratives and to have very legitimate concerns be dismissed. But we don’t have to do this alone. So, in the interest of sharing some learning from my (often failed) attempts to have more constructive conversations about AI, here are the most common discourses I’m brushing up against, alongside how I’ve been responding.


    Note: One provocation to anyone whose instinct is to dismiss the concerns above or the responses below, is to ask who benefits the most when we do so: who are these pro-AI narratives really serving?

    Pro-AI narrative

    Response

    👣“AI can be used to help the environment”

    ‼️ AI fuels environmental destruction far, far more than it contributes to addressing it.  


    The vast majority of AI use is not being directed towards protecting people or the rest of Nature. Instead it is being used predominantly in ways that drive up already-unsustainable fuel burning, water extraction and consumption behaviours. (see above). A recent analysis of claims that AI would be of ‘net climate benefit’ found that the vast majority were unsubstantiated. It also “did not uncover a single example where consumer generative systems such as ChatGPT, Gemini, or Copilot were leading to a material, verifiable, and substantial level of emissions reductions”


    If we want to see these powerful tools and resources used for overall environmental benefit, we need to push for very careful evaluation and regulation of AI use, rather than accept or support the unrestricted expansion and integration of AI across society.

    🧠 “AI is making complex knowledge more accessible”

    ‼️Right now LLMs are too error-prone to disseminate trustworthy information and are compromising our ability to learn critical skills.  


    Mistakes and biases are extremely prevalent and can have serious consequences.  There is also a growing body of evidence to suggest AI tools diminish the cognitive and interpersonal abilities of users, making us progressively more dependent on them for tasks we could otherwise manage competently ourselves. Far from democratising knowledge, tech giants stand to gain significant control over access to AI tools and the kind of ‘intelligence’ they may unlock (see above). 


    With disinformation already such a huge problem, the last thing we need is unregulated AI turbo-charging it, or otherwise adding to confusion and misunderstanding. 

    When I’m speaking to scientists and academics I often emphasise other ways we could (and arguably should) be contributing to making information and understanding more accessible.  This includes communicating our work in more inclusive and public ways as well as pushing to remove barriers to and inequalities in education.

    💼 “It’s good for jobs and the economy”

    ‼️ Which jobs/sectors are benefitting from the rise of AI… and at whose expense?


    This is an industry built on extractive, exploitative and destructive practices that has yet to see proportionate or equitable value realised (see above). 


    It also seems quite unclear whether the AI industry is itself profitable, or whether most companies are particularly benefitting from using it. To realise tangible benefits that AI-enabled technologies could hold the most promise for, “a fundamental reorientation of the industry” is likely necessary: essentially this would mean it refocussing on systems that are able to generate reliable information for specific practical applications (rather than those than attempt replicate or replace human speech, creativity and interaction).

    🏆 “AI helps me do my important work better/more competitively” and/or “We will be left behind if we don’t embrace it”

    ‼️ Leaning on AI can stand in the way of us learning and maintaining the skills and confidence that enable us to be creative and effective.  


    If we outsource tasks to AI, we are less likely to develop or sustain a deep or intuitive understanding of what we are doing. This can make it harder for us to notice errors or to troubleshoot when things go wrong, and also leaves us vulnerable when we don’t have access to the tools e.g. if we are ‘offline’ or in the event tools get withdrawn or heavily monetised (see above). 


    For many people right now, using AI may, on balance, be contributing to - rather than relieving - overload and burnout.  And for businesses/individuals selling creative work, I’ve asked why customers or clients would choose to buy something from a third party that they could create themselves with similar AI tools.


    Critical thinking, creative and interpersonal skills may well become especially desirable in the age of AI ‘slop’. Rather than going along with the widespread adoption of AI, it could be more strategic for us to focus on identifying and investing in the distinctly-human capabilities that make us each uniquely valuable.

    🤖 “It’s inevitable”  i.e. The rise of AI is now unstoppable so the best thing to do is to [be quiet about the problems and] embrace it.

    ‼️ The unregulated, unrestricted integration of AI throughout our lives and systems is not inevitable.  We have agency and collective power to steer how the development and adoption of AI proceeds.


    The technology is already with us, but there are plenty of possible futures for it.  We do not have to embrace it uncritically. We can choose to make a fuss about the damage being caused and the risks being taken. We can stand in the way of AI-enabled harm continuing and expanding.  And we can advocate for effective regulation that makes it more possible for AI applications with genuine potential to be beneficial for all of us to emerge from the noise.


    What can we do about AI?

    1. ⁉️ Communicate & Question: It can feel from all the advertising, LinkedIn chat etc like everybody is on board with it, but the more I talk with people the more I realise that there is widespread concern and skepticism about the AI boom. I also think that the rise of AI will continue to gather pace and wreak havoc in its wake if we don’t challenge the myths and the hype that are being touted. We don’t have to be experts to that bold claims are evidenced, or to probe about how much attention and consideration is being given to the very real harms and risks.
    2. ❎ Refrain or Abstain where we can: We can each be critical and considerate about whether our own use of AI tools aligns with our values and/or is worth any of the negative impacts it contributes to. Personally I avoid knowingly using it, supporting it and feeding it… I don’t need to use it and I haven’t found a good enough reason for me to start incorporating it into anything I’m doing. This doesn’t have to mean ignoring it nor being completely closed-minded to any potentially positive applications. 
    3. ✊ Campaign & Resist: We are most effective when we work together, as evidenced by the groundswell of grassroots organising against AI data centre expansions that threaten to drain the water, pollute the air and compromise power supplies for communities around the world.  There are broader campaigns gathering momentum too and they are undoubtedly looking for more support. Some examples are Pause AI, Pull the Plug & Stop Killer Robots.



    Thoughts, suggestions or recommended resources? Let me know and I'll include them here.

    In the meantime you may be interested in John Oliver's recent segment about AI chatbots, want to follow Ketan Joshi for commentary or find this massive list of articles useful.




    Image description

    The cover star for this blog post is Mavis, a mostly-blind guinea pig who loves lettuce but is alarmed by many things including (but by no means limited to) the rapid adoption of AI, especially if this could  disrupt or threaten supplies of lettuce.

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    Changing mindsets, not just lightbulbs

    Image description

    📣 Published today:

    "The Sustainability of Science: How Science Impacts the Environment, and What Can Be Done" a Royal Society of Chemistry book, edited by Dr Martin Farley.


    I wrote the following essay as part of its final chapter, which addresses the wider role of science and scientists in climate action.


    The essay "Changing mindset, not just lightbulbs" is reproduced here with permission under the terms of a Creative Commons CC-BY-NC-ND 4.0 licence


    At the time writing in 2023, from my then position as a postdoctoral research scientist based in a university, I introduced the chapter and my motivations for writing it as follows:

    

    “UK universities and research institutes have been centres of my own education and work for half my lifetime. Since 2019, I’ve tried to balance a scientific research career with communicating and acting on the warnings of climate and environmental scientists. In that time I have encountered significant resistance to the idea that scientists and their institutions can – and should – use our privileged positions to contribute to rapid systemic change. I often hear that something else is more important, it’s too difficult, or it’s somehow not our place to try. By distilling some of what I’ve learned as part of the scientist/activist community, I hope to counter some of those narratives and motivate others to embrace pushing for environmental and social justice as part of the role of 21st century scientists."


    

    Matching Rhetoric with Action


    Centres of scientific research – such as universities and research institutes – exist to generate and disseminate knowledge often with the stated aim of improving lives and societies. These institutions often pride themselves on being host to, and developers of, thousands of minds trained to understand and communicate complex problems and innovate to solve them. But is this what the scientific institutions of today are really prioritising or achieving? And are they responding effectively to the escalating threats of climate, ecological and societal breakdown?


    Over recent years many institutions have made public declarations of a state of Climate Emergency and announced ambitions to be part of solutions. But how much evidence is there of these same institutions realigning their practices and priorities proportionate with emergency action? Working in a place like this you may well have seen stickers reminding you to turn equipment off, a reusable cup scheme, awards for sustainable practice on the walls. But has your daily reality noticeably changed? Is what you research and how you do so largely similar to how it was before environmental sustainability was part of the discourse? Have you and your colleagues received any training to help you understand the scale of the biospheric emergency we are part of, and what we can do about it? Are conversations about how our academic systems can/should/must respond in a rapidly changing world part of your experience at all?


    How can the transformative potential of science and scientists be unlocked? Institutions’ current modes of operation tend to stifle the changes needed to do so, but it is also within their power to facilitate and nurture cultural shifts. This needs to go far beyond reminders to turn off equipment and the elimination of single-use coffee cups; true sustainability in research requires seeing the big picture and embracing commensurate systemic change in how we work and what we value. This will mean realignment of the priority areas of research and teaching, a more holistic approach to mitigating the harms caused by our activities (explored in other sections of the book) and also looking to expand our conception of the institute’s role – acting as a hub for collaboration, a resource for wider communities and a fertile ground for empowering advocates and change-makers.



    Scientists’ Privilege, Power and Responsibility to Accelerate Systemic Change


    At its core the job of a scientist or academic is to pursue knowledge that enables us to understand specific elements of the world we are part of. Inevitably this involves evaluating and integrating information from a range of sources and disciplines, distilling what we learn into messages and principles that can be usefully shared. As such we have much of the expertise needed to comprehend and communicate the threats that all life and societies now face. When scientists publicly sound the alarm, or otherwise act to address the biospheric crises, we can be powerful messengers and advocates because of the position of trust and/or authority that is often afforded to us. We can find that our words and actions have a wider reach and a greater resonance as scientists than they would do otherwise. We might find we have greater access to platforms of communication, and that our taking action lends legitimacy to environmental movements that can suffer from unhelpful stereotyping about who it is that cares and participates.


    Scientists have been warning for decades that human actions are driving irreversible and escalating climate and biodiversity threats. Could, and should, the wider scientific community be mobilising as a result, showing solidarity with the scientists who have raised alarm, and acting on the basis of the findings of our colleagues around the world? Can we expect these warnings to be listened to if we do not? Do we have greater responsibility to do so, given our privileged position to be able to understand these complex crises and our power to contribute to systemic change? What does it mean for our own role, the impact of our work and the existence of the structures that allow us to do scientific research if we do not see the kind of transformative action that is needed to protect societies as we know them from collapse? After all, there’s “no research on a dead planet”.



    Scientific Institutions as Hubs for Environmental Learning and Communication


    To respond proportionately to the climate & ecological emergency, institutions must do much more than replace lightbulbs and nudge their employees to make small behavioural adjustments. By taking a more systemic view, we can see that there are many more-impactful actions open to scientific institutions (summarised in Figure 1). Institutions and their funders need to turn their attention towards what research areas they prioritise and whether those make sense in the context of the biospheric emergency. In early 2020, scientists across many disciplines were rapidly re-mobilised in response to the Covid-19 pandemic.* Can we build on that experience to support the realignment of scientific research focus, centring the pursuit of the knowledge needed for societies to mitigate and adapt to climate and ecological breakdown? Key to achieving this will be institutional support for researchers to learn about the threats we face and – informed by that knowledge – apply our skills in new areas. Institutions, many of which are publicly funded, could also be playing a much more public role in supporting societal responses. This includes opening their doors to, supporting, learning from, collaborating, communicating, and sharing resources with local communities, under-represented groups and grassroots movements. Importantly, institutes stand to hugely increase their societal impact by cultivating conditions where their members are encouraged and empowered to be visible and effective advocates for environmental education and action.


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    Figure 1: Actions scientific research institutes can take to enable transformative change in the age of climate and ecological breakdown.

    

    

    Collective Action by Scientists Holds Unrealised Potential to Accelerate Systemic Change


    As individuals subject to the specific pressures of academic research careers, pushing the structures we operate within to improve can often feel frustrating and futile. Whilst there is much we can do as individuals to challenge harmful practices, signpost better ones and lead by example with our own choices (see Figure 2), we are more effective when we organise! Joining or forming climate action groups and unions can enable us to amplify calls for systemic change whilst reducing the work required and/or risk inherent in doing so. Collective action also creates communities that are ripe for learning, connection, and support. As scientists we can play valuable roles in the wider environmental movement, providing and receiving evidence and education, acting as trusted messengers and contributing to building fairer, more resilient alternative systems. As threats to a liveable future mount rapidly, what are we waiting for?


    Image description

    Figure 2: Actions research scientists can take to be part of transformative change in the age of climate and ecological breakdown.”


    *I was one of these scientists…within weeks of the pandemic’s spread in the UK my biologist colleagues and I found ourselves studying the SARS-CoV2 virus, designing and running testing pipelines, communicating with the public, health providers and politicians and more. This was supported – and often celebrated – by our employers, funders and government.

  • Published on

    Are scientific institutions failing us?

    Reflections on an evening at the Royal Society


    “Responsible science activism” was the topic of discussion at a Foundation for Science and Technology event at the Royal Society in London this week. Three scientist activists - Dr Charlie Gardner, Prof Jeff Waage and myself - were invited to share the motivations behind our actions, setting out our perspectives on how the scientific community can respond effectively to the escalating Emergency and why it is vital that we do. The challenges, comments and questions that followed ranged from constructive, thoughtful, insightful to troubling and harmful. Constraints of the format meant that we couldn’t examine more than a few there and then....so I’d like to take the opportunity to share some reflections here now. 


    The harmful narratives


    Within the walls of this 365 year old institution, with all its grandeur and prestige, it was no surprise to be met with some hostility having challenged the ‘established’ way of being a scientist through our activism. Whilst we acknowledged the value of the ‘traditional’ routes for scientists to engage with politicians and the wider public, we know that on their own they’ve been insufficient to drive the kind of change necessary to prevent the existential danger every person and every species now faces. So the question is what do we do now? How does the scientific community’s approach need to evolve and expand to inform and energise a society-wide Emergency response at a time this is so desperately needed?


    I remember how deeply uncomfortable it felt years ago grappling not just with how serious a predicament humanity is in, but also with how profoundly that changed how I felt about my own achievements, priorities and ambitions especially in relation to a scientific career that formed such a strong part of my identity. So I can empathise with a broad spectrum of defensive reactions. But however charitable I try to be, the tone of some of what was levelled against scientist activism and environmental action more broadly at this event has added to my frustration and disillusionment with our institutions. 


    I had expected plenty of critique about the role and perception of scientists as activists, but I was less prepared (and more alarmed) to notice the prevalence of recognisable ‘discourses of delay’: narratives leveraged - knowingly or unwittingly - as reasons not to act robustly to stave off climate, ecological and consequent societal collapse.

    These included:


    Deflecting responsibility.

    We heard politics and voting framed as the most (or potentially only) effective way to bring about change, with sweeping assertions made about the actions and priorities of the wider public e.g. that they “vote against the interests of younger people” and more generally that climate action is unpopular and thus unachievable. Even if this were true (which it isn’t*), perceived apathy and lack of care by others is no justification for replicating this ourselves, especially as scientists who are in a prime, privileged and trusted position to recognise the severity of the issues, communicate them effectively, and act constructively, bravely and creatively in response.


    Casting doubt on the urgent need for transformative action.

    At points I really wondered whether some of the senior figures who spoke had anything close to a broad and up-to-date knowledge of the science underlying the Emergency. We heard arguments often made in favour of fossil fuel use that made me wonder whether their proponents even knew how far beyond safe limits we already are, let alone what it means for our near-term survival that heating and its impacts have accelerated and will continue to do so especially now tipping points have been crossed. Our arguments as to why we view it as is proportionate and effective for scientists to take bolder, more vigorous action were dismissed quite casually; the vibe I felt emanating from the more vocal members of the scientific establishment was dispassionate and complacent, entirely misaligned with the enormity of the danger.


    Emphasising potential costs of action disproportionately in the context of the hugely higher cost of continued delay. Incredibly, “intergenerational equity” was seemingly used as a reason not to pour resources into rapid decarbonisation, positioning action taken to protect future generations as incompatible with meeting the needs of people alive today. Were it not the case that a rapid worldwide transition to renewables is now considered feasible and highly cost effective, or were it not the case that energy efficiency, pollution reduction and nature restoration come with substantial health and wellbeing benefits, this still wouldn’t be a defensible position when millions are already experiencing the devastating, avoidable impacts of a lack of Emergency mitigation and adaptation.**


    Defeatism dressed up as realism.

    Encapsulating this were the very final words from the panel: “I’m afraid Thomas Malthus was probably right”. What a choice that is from a respected figure of authority in science, to end by referencing 18th century predictions of mass starvation caused by population growth… rather than to end with a call to action that scientists try everything we [responsibly] can to intervene in today’s unfolding climate and ecological catastrophes.

    

    Image description

    A figure from my infographics deck, based on the typography established by Lamb et al. mapping the most common narratives used to delay climate action. 

    

    As anticipated there were also plenty of criticisms of activism and activists e.g. that disruptive action is counterproductive, that by taking action using our scientist identities that we’re implying we are somehow superior etc etc, which I at least felt we were able to push back on at the time***. But in doing so we didn’t have the opportunity to give the wealth of constructive contributions and questions from the rest of the audience the airtime they deserved.


    The constructive questions


    I've felt heartened by the many positive and supportive interactions that were also part the event and its aftermath. These came from a broad range of representatives across science and policy, many of whom were keen to share how their own views did not align with the ones I have described here as harmful. Conversations about various experiences trying to create change within different roles, workplaces and contexts have continued throughout the week and I'm grateful for the new connections, insights and potential collaborations this has sparked. Some of the questions raised that I would have loved there to have been more discussion of at the event itself related to themes like:


    🚧 How to address structural barriers to scientists participating in activism

    This would have been a great opportunity to talk about the various issues affecting the science and education sector and how they might be overcome in ways that enable climate and social action as well as benefitting research and scientists themselves, drawing on the ideas such as the academic doughnut and work around how universities etc can facilitate advocacy and activism.


    🛡️ How mounting attacks on, and declining trust in, science can be countered

    The societal and political drivers of this are complex and something scientists are often quite naive to, but they are crucial for us to grapple with and confront. Emerging insights from scientists who have had to deal with such attacks for a long time (e.g. climate researchers, vaccine advocates etc) feel especially valuable to learn from here. 


    🤳 How scientists can interface more effectively with the media and the public

    News content around the Emergency has long been problematic, and as the crisis gets more severe, coverage appears to be declining in both volume and quality. Meanwhile climate misinformation on social media is surging. Debunking myths is an important skill but ‘innoculation’ against disinformation is perhaps an even more important work that scientists can be involved in too. I wrote about what I think makes effective Emergency science communication recently here, but ultimately actions speak louder than words, which is a huge part of our case that scientists be bolder and more visible as activists. 


    Leadership and role modelling from scientists and their institutions

    This could have been an opportunity for rich discussion on how research institutes can transform to rise to the challenges of our times, and to talk about the behaviour change research on leading by example, (e.g. in low-carbon transitions). 


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    Photographs from the during the event (left) and afterwards with some of my favourite 'responsible science activists' (right). 

    

    Personal Reflections


    Across the breadth of the scientific community we do have common ground: we recognise climate and ecological breakdown as serious threats and that current action is insufficient. What constitutes appropriate and responsible, productive actions is nuanced and was always going to generate some disagreement…. but I was much less troubled by this than I was by what felt like a palpable lack of collective urgency and commitment to transformative action. Most concerning to me was where harmful - not to mention inaccurate, misleading and/or and unevidenced - delay narratives were coming from: the proponents of these ideas were scientists currently or previously in leadership roles within academic institutions, learned societies and/or policymaking. And they were some of the loudest, most confident and most influential voices in the room. 


    I’m left questioning more deeply than ever the role of our institutions and those chosen to lead them. Most have undeniably positive intentions - my former workplace aspired to be a “University for Public Good” whilst the Royal Society positions itself as proponent of science “for the benefit of humanity”. They could be playing a key role in informing and enabling necessary, systemic changes… but as a result of embedded resistance to adapting and evolving as the world around us profoundly changes, how many are doing more harm than good? 


    At the end of National Emergency Briefing in November, Prof Mike Berners-Lee urged senior figures in politics to be truly honest with themselves, and to step aside if they weren’t up to the job of leading with integrity and courage in the knowledge of how much danger we are all in. If we want our scientific institutions’ aspirations to translate into impact, I think we should be bringing this ultimatum to their leaders too. We can’t yet rely on our institutions - nor can we afford to wait for them - to change by themselves. To unlock their potential we have to apply pressure strategically, working in collaboration with the allies we find both within and on the outside of them. And as we do this, there are so many opportunities to contribute our skills as scientists in every movement and every community that needs them.  


    * Polls and studies repeatedly show that concern remains high about environmental issues, that the vast majority of the UK want stronger climate action, and that willingness to take various forms of action is widely underestimated


    ** To list but a few examples ”climate-related disasters forcibly displaced 250 million people globally over the past decade”, “hundreds of millions of people are unable to safely go about their daily lives at the hottest times of the year”, “costs of heatwaves, droughts, and floods across the EU in summer 2025 reached €43 billion and could climb to €126 billion by 2029”, “climate change-induced food price shocks are on the rise leading to malnutrition, political upheaval and social unrest” … with the severity and range of all such impacts escalating all the time. 


    *** See Charlie’s opening address for a snapshot of the evidence for the power of social movements and disruptive protest, as well as research on the ‘radical flank’ effect. In the recording Jeff and I both respond to why we choose to identify ourselves as scientists in the course of our activism (and it's not that we think we are superior!)

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    When Head meets Heart

    Pro-environmental choices are often framed as “sacrifices” but there is power and peace in aligning our actions and values. 


    Surrounded by chatter about making resolutions and by advertisements for all the ways a “new you!” can be purchased as a new year begins, I'm prompted to think about what has actually brought me closer to being the kind of person I aspire to be. Spoiler: the significant things haven’t been any products I’ve bought nor any new pursuit I’ve started specifically in the name of self-improvement. Instead, the slow, ongoing personal process of working out how to respond to a world on fire has been unexpectedly revealing.    


    This past year cinemas, academic institutes and community groups around the country have been hosting screenings of Plan Z, a short film that captures the motivations of scientists (including myself) who have become climate activists. It’s often shown alongside complementary documentaries about how we respond to the Emergency we find ourselves in - whether that’s climate denial, anxiety and/or action.  I’ve repeatedly found myself thinking back to a specific moment from one of those films: it’s a moment where a student activist reflects on a protest where they’d climbed on top of an oil tanker and been arrested. They describe an unexpected sense of peace - and a relief from the often overwhelming anxiety they were accustomed to - in ‘doing something tangible’, in spite of how terrified they felt taking that action. 


    This student’s seemingly paradoxical response - to experience calmness in an unfamiliar, high stress, high intensity situation - has started to sound familiar to me. Several of the authors in our book Scientists on Survival allude to something like it.  I’ve felt it myself too. In today’s world, many ‘normal’ ways of going about life conflict with values that many-if-not-most of us hold dear. It can feel impossible to do the ‘right thing’ and I often struggle encountering this in seemingly trivial daily decisions. So at those times where we act in certain ways that might look rash or radical, maybe that feeling of relief isn’t so strange. 


    When I worked in academia I found some of these conflicts - the clashes between our stated aspirations and the realities of how we were going about pursuing them - particularly stark. Essentially I found the experience of studying a dying world in the knowledge that we were further endangering it in the process paradoxical and deeply uncomfortable*. I worked in settings where we incinerated kilos of contaminated single-use plastics every single day, where flying halfway around the world for a few days at a conference was considered a perk of the job, and where an increasing proportion of our research was financed and influenced by some of the most destructive organisations (or billionaires) on Earth**. If questioned, these kinds of behaviours were swiftly justified as necessary for, or simply an accepted and acceptable part of, advancing human knowledge… as if it wasn’t relevant that the foundations that’d allow any benefits of that knowledge to be realised (stable climate, intact biosphere, functioning societies) are crumbling. 


    Having left academic science behind with a heavy heart,  I thought I’d feel envious of other researchers who could handle the contradictions I had tried and failed to reconcile. But whilst I did (and still do) feel some loss about the career and identity I stepped out of, the stronger sense has been one of relief. The extent to which mental gymnastics had sapped my energy and self-esteem only really became clear once I no longer needed to perform them. Lifting that weight, even though it meant inviting more uncertainty and risk into my daily life, has been freeing. We all have different levels of comfort in breaking with conventions and expectations, as well as different vulnerabilities to the associated repercussions.  But I also think that more of us than we might realise would benefit on a personal level from doing so. Psychologists use the term “cognitive dissonance” to describe the often-severe discomfort we experience when holding conflicting ideas in our heads, whereas one aspiration of therapy is to foster “congruence” or harmony between how we see ourselves and how we live our lives. To me this speaks to the value of resolving the incompatibilities between our values, our identities and our actions wherever we can. 


    The realities of our imperilled world do not make aligning our actions with our values straightforward…but where we can do so it stands not only to make positive ripples but also to bring us joy as well as relief in the process. The narrative that acting more sustainably or ethically inherently involves sacrificing your happiness is a powerful one, but it’s often wrong. You can see this in the testimonies of people who have shifted their approach to food or travel, you can see this in the stories of activists who find purpose and community in pushing for change. The idea that evolving in line with our ideals is a noble but ultimately futile and joyless endeavour needs to be challenged, now more than ever. One simple way we can do this  - and one resolution I can commit to this year - is to notice, celebrate and share the pleasure and peace we experience as we take the plunge. 




    *I’ve touched on this in a previous post and in the concluding paragraphs of a review article I co-wrote, and recommend this perspective article about the underlying social and psychological factors that allow this ‘double reality’ to exist in academia


    ** I frequently saw research funded by or conducted in partnership with fossil fuel companies, militaries or weapons manufacturers, agribusiness giants etc, or billionaire’s foundations (Gates, Bezos or Musk) when I worked in the environmental or biological sciences. See the work of the Mapping Fossil Ties project (for example) for why these relationships, however attractive they may seem in a challenging and competitive research environment, are so problematic.


    Cover image credit: Paul Kelly, York, UK

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    Communicating Science with Impact

    Reflections on effective climate and nature communication, following the National Emergency Briefing

    

    You might have heard or read that last month (November 2025) over 1000 influential figures across UK politics, society and culture gathered for a first of its kind National Emergency Briefing on climate and nature. Ten experts laid out the facts about the polycrisis we are in, how all of our lives will be radically reshaped by it, and the actions that will make a positive impact in response. Since June I’ve worked with the NEB team as their science adviser, which has involved collaborating on the messaging and content of the briefing, as well as working with some of the scientist speakers to increase the clarity and impact of their talks. 

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    The National Emergency Briefing’s expert panel, fielding questions after their talks

    Academics usually aren’t taught, nor really encouraged, to communicate research findings clearly, simply and impactfully. Throughout my time in research science, I’d attend seminars with reluctance and restlessness, frustrated by the all-too-common experience of learning very little from long, excessively detailed presentations that lacked relevance for most of the (often largely disengaged) audience… So nobody is more surprised than I am that it was a lecture in 2018 that marked such a clear turning point for me. It was a Thursday afternoon in the Autumn, and all 400 of the ‘postdoc’ scientists at the medical research institute I worked at were expected to attend a talk by a guest speaker, a doctor who was talking about the connections between climate and health. This was a subject I, naively, thought I already had a decent understanding of… but I was not prepared for what I heard that afternoon, when the doctor laid bare the imminent threats to our survival. I don’t remember the statistics or the graphs, but I vividly remember the moment he said he feared his own future and felt terrified for his kids’. I remember how I felt receiving the dire news over the course of that hour and how I felt when I left the room. It changed the course of my life. 


    Seven years later that same doctor, Prof Hugh Montgomery, was among the ten experts presenting the National Emergency Briefing. And seven years on, our prognosis is no less frightening… the lack of political and societal leadership - and the lack of proportionate, emergency intervention - means the picture is much bleaker. When we’ve needed to be stepping up en masse, empowering one another with knowledge, galvanizing and collaborating on society-wide action, we’ve instead had misinformation, denial, temptations to delay and very understandable, very human wishful thinking get the better of us. This has already, and will continue to, cost us all dearly. But in the words of another of the briefing’s speakers, food system expert Prof Paul Behrens: “The best time to act was yesterday, the second best time is today.”


    I have enormous respect for every one of my fellow academics, science communicators and activists who have taken on the often-uncomfortable yet vital task of speaking clearly and unequivocally on the Climate & Nature Emergency. None of us have a tried-and-tested formula for it: a different audience, or even the same audience on a different day, will respond differently. However carefully we do it, there will be those who criticise us - fairly, less-than-fairly, or downright maliciously. When we probably have a lot of competing pressures and demands on us, the necessary time, energy, confidence and emotional resilience can take a lot to muster. But given the escalating state of Emergency, we can’t let the difficulty and discomfort of the task stop us. Working together, sharing our knowledge openly and supporting one another allows us to face those challenges, so in this spirit, and drawing on the recommendations I made for National Emergency Briefing, here are some of the principles I use to guide my science communication. 



    Simplicity wins

    There’s something I see as a troublesome myth in science communication: that using complicated words and visuals makes you seem more credible. In my book, seeing that someone has taken the time and thought to select the most important information and present it in the clearest, most compelling form they can is a much stronger signal to trust the messenger. The stakes are high here - if we overwhelm or confuse our audiences, we risk causing them to disengage at the expense of taking on board vital, consequential information. Here are some pointers:

    • Be selective and concise: choose the most important messages your audience need to take away with them and focus on landing those well as opposed to packing everything you can into the time or length that’s available or most appropriate. You can always signpost sources of more information that you’ve chosen not to include. 
    • Simplify graphics, statistics and technical terminology: Data! Scientists need it and we can be drawn to presenting lots of it to make our case. But overusing complex graphics or sharing a deluge of statistics in overly technical language might be the quickest ways to lose your audience. So make sure you choose data carefully, avoiding “number overload”, and make sure any graphs you do present are simple enough to be understood quickly. 
    • Emphasise key messages: You can use formatting and structural tools (e.g. subtitles in articles and clear titles on slides) to do help this. Repetition can also be useful to consolidate the most important points; providing a summary of key take-aways throughout and/or at the end is often appreciated by audiences. 


    Image description

    Less can be more: Examples at the top are slides from the UK chief scientific advisor’s briefing to a former prime minister, and below are from Climate Central’s key facts slide deck as of November 2025. Of course different levels of detail are appropriate for different contexts and audiences, and there are situations where technical detail is important: I’ve included these to illustrate that complex information can be more immediately understandable and impactful once simplified and distilled to emphasise the core messages. 


    Know your audience

    It would be incredibly useful and convenient if a one-size-fits-all approach to climate & nature communication existed! But in reality each specific audience and their specific context matters a huge amount to what will be most effective. Your impact will almost always be enhanced if you take the time to:

    • Tailor your approach and message to align with your audience’s context, interest and what’s most likely to resonate with them. For example, you could choose examples from their “world” to illustrate your points, and explicitly join the dots between what you’re talking about and how their priorities will be impacted. 
    • Avoid assuming knowledge, because not feeling included or that you’re ‘not clever enough’ to understand* is alienating. Providing enough background and choosing phrases appropriate to those less familiar with the subject can be done without patronising or boring those who are more comfortable with it. 
    • Involve the audience (where possible). For trainings or events, engagement, interest and impact are usually increased wherever if it feels like a shared, participatory experience. I often ask the audience questions, encourage them to speak with one another, and/or include activities that mix up the format.  

    * Very regularly I hear workshop participants tell me that they’re ‘not good at science’ or that they don’t see themselves as very capable of understanding scientific ideas. This is often based on bad experiences at school or with poorly-pitched science communication and rarely reflects their actual abilities. 


    Engage with emotion

    True understanding is not just about knowledge - there is an emotional component too. We can know a fact but until we feel why that fact matters to us, we are unlikely to act on it. It can feel daunting, exposing or “unscientific” (and for many people I know “un-British” too) to bring emotion into our communication… but I’d argue strongly it’s both rational and important to do so. I’ve often asked myself how much scientists’ cultural tendency to communicate in a dispassionate, “objective” way has detracted from the urgency of our messages. However I also wouldn’t generally recommend delivering the difficult realities of our polycrisis through floods of tears, however proportionate that might be. Striking the right balance allows us to convey immediacy and severity of the Emergency without compromising our clarity and credibility. Here are some of the approaches I often use to thread this particular needle: 

    • Show why this matters. Rather than simply stating what the implications are, illustrate it with something tangible to your audience. A photograph or a newspaper headline can communicate instantly what a screen full of graphs never could. Human stories are particularly powerful.
    • Share how the knowledge you are sharing has impacted you such as how it’s made you feel and what it’s motivated you to do in response. If this is a step you’re wary of taking, you might consider quoting other people. 
    • Consider the emotional “journey” of your audience, thinking about how they would ideally come away feeling. I have found aspects of The Work that Reconnects useful inspiration here.
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    Show as well as tell: Data can be “brought to life” by showing its tangible, human impacts, for example via news headlines, powerful images such as these portraits by Gideon Mendel, and quotes or stories from affected people.


    Emphasise agency

    “Fear without agency” is often talked about as something to steer well clear of when communicating about difficult subjects: it can lead to inaction, whether through avoidance or fatalism. Doing the following can help you tip the balance away from (further) disempowerment and towards motivation:

    • Match threats with responses, and emphasise co-benefits of action. This doesn’t mean you should be naively positive, nor does it mean creating a misleading sense of reassurance: we cannot “solve” the Emergency but we already know what actions are most effective in slowing, limiting and adapting to the impacts. Whilst often framed as sacrifices, these actions often come with huge advantages e.g. in health and wellbeing
    • Highlight where/how your audience has particular strength to act. This can help to energise participants but it also guards against the enticing idea that it's somebody else’s responsibility to respond (rather than all of ours, albeit to different extents depending on our relative power, capacities, positions and privileges).
    • Be aware of delaying narratives… and avoid them dominating. Whilst outright science denial is relatively rare (though appears to be making a comeback), it’s still likely you’ll receive defensive reactions from audiences who are in the process of confronting some uncomfortable realities. ‘Delay’ arguments are very common here, but none are legitimate reasons not to act. It takes some time and practice, but once you learn to recognise these it becomes much easier to respond to them compassionately and steer the focus back onto more constructive ground. 
    • Actions speak louder than words, which is all the more reason to show how you and/or your communities are aligning your actions with your knowledge. This can demonstrate to your audiences that it’s both possible and empowering for us to move from passive observers to active participants. 
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    Highlight the power - and possibly responsibility - of your audience: This is an example of a slide I often use when talking to scientists.  Rather than just rattling through these points, it works best when I ask participants to discuss why scientists are in a strong position to accelerate action. This generates a bit of a ‘buzz’ , and they often come up with even more reasons than I have on this slide.


    Trust yourself

    However many times I do it, and however thoroughly I prepare, I’m not sure I’ll ever feel properly confident standing up in front of an audience and talking about anything, let alone about something as important to “get right” as the climate and nature Emergency. But the risks of getting it not-quite-perfect are far outweighed by the risks of not finding the courage to try. I’ve found it helpful to:

    • Be upfront about your knowledge and limitations. You can’t be expected to have all the answers. Communicating about your background, motivations and nerves can help build empathy and trust with your audiences. 
    • Resist getting defensive. When misinformation and even blatant attacks on science are becoming alarmingly normal, it can be tempting to vehemently defend your points, sometimes at the expense of communicating them clearly. My best advice would be to back yourself: lay out the science and case for proportionate action in a compelling way, then be prepared to respond to common delay narratives if they come to you. 

    

    What now?

    Your communication may be ‘done’ when the audience leaves the room, when your article is published etc… but that’s just the start of the impacts it’ll have. It can take time for people to process the experience they’ve had and what their next steps may be, and in most cases you’ll never know the ripples you create. In some situations it might not be possible or appropriate to “follow up” with audiences but in most cases there are useful things you can do to help enhance the positive impact of your work. These include:

    • Providing summary resources that enable audiences to recall, consolidate and feel confident talking about what they’ve learned. 
    • Sharing your sources and recommendations for deeper learning. 
    • Signposting appropriate actions, support and community. This helps to guard against leaving people feeling disempowered or alone. 


    I hope you find this encouraging and informative. I feel conscious that it’s imperfect and non-exhaustive… but that by my own admission that’s not a good enough reason not to share it! Please feel free to contact me if you have suggestions to improve it, or if you’d like to collaborate on future communication projects. 🌱


    This blog was updated in May 2026 to include the section on agency!

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    2025: Stories & Strains

    This year has seen some big projects and big ideas become reality. It’s also seen new collaborations and plenty of opportunities for learning and evolution. But it’s also been a turbulent year globally, personally and professionally. Here’s a quick run down of where I’ve been focussing my energy, what’s been difficult and what I’ll take from this year into next. 

    

    The Projects

    One highlight was launching our bookScientists on Survival’, which coincided with touring the UK with screenings of the film Plan Z. Both the book and the film communicate the stories behind our actions as scientist-activists, sharing our personal responses rather than depending on facts, figures and graphs alone to convey the enormity and urgency of the crises facing life on Earth. 


    Having stepped away from research science last year, I’ve been re-engaging with the academic world via workshops, talks and panels at universities from Edinburgh to Exeter. These have drawn on many of the themes and ideas woven into the book and film, challenging different audiences with the question of how scientists respond effectively in, as the Global Tipping Points conference described it, “a post 1.5℃, post-truth era”. 


    In parallel, I’ve continued to explore the much less familiar grounds of corporate sustainability, primarily by working with AimHi Earth on updating and re-invigorating their training content. I’ve also taken on some paid campaigning roles for the first time, bringing scientific communication expertise to a range of grassroots and more professionalised organisations that aim to inform policy, activate people and empower communities. Fresh in my mind as I write this is perhaps the most consequential of those roles, collaborating and advising on the National Emergency Briefing on the climate and nature crisis. 


    Amidst all these different strands of work, one constant has been my Fridays with York Community Energy, where we have been gearing up to establish our first community-owned renewable energy projects in 2026. 

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    Want to know more? Some of this year’s major “outputs” include...

    🦠 A farewell to microbiology research, in our review Protists & Protistology in the Anthropocene. Latter sections summarise key messages, applicable across many disciplines. 


    📗 Scientists on Survival: Personal Stories of Climate Action, which is now available as an ebook and audiobook, as well as in print. 


    🏛️ Our new campaign to ‘Bring Science to Politics’. Updates to be posted here.


    🧪 Our research paper on how scientists can contribute to social movements and climate action.

    

    ⚠️ A first of its kind National Emergency Briefing. See coverage by Forbes, New Scientist and The Guardian, and recordings of the talks


    🪲 A series of community workshops and networking events in York.



    The Challenges

    Watch any news bulletin or your social media feed and you may well feel like I do - that hope is harder and harder to hold on to. Throughout this year especially I’ve struggled to make sense of a world that’s lurched further into denial instead of embracing transformations we know are needed for our own survival. And I’m terrified to see so much power in the hands of a dangerously self-serving or misguided few whilst freedoms, rights and safety are ripped away from pretty much everyone else. When we desperately need action, inspiration, compassion, community and solidarity, we’re getting yet more delay, deception, disillusionment, division and despair. Against this backdrop, it's no wonder that climate work has been more challenging than ever. These are some of the aspects I’ve been grappling with for the first time in 2025:


    1) Shifting demands. Last year (2024) most of my work was sharply focussed on delivering complex information about climate and Nature in clear, accessible, engaging and (hopefully!) motivating ways. I’ve written before about why this is still so vital to do: a necessary precursor to effective actions being taken. It’s also the niche where I feel I can apply my own skills and experience most effectively. However, I find demand for this kind of work evaporating, fast. Climate and Nature have plummeted down the political agenda, sustainability is no longer seen as a priority for most businesses, and drawing proportionate media attention to the most pressing issues of our existence? Like getting blood from a stone. Where doors have been left ajar rather than closed completely, I’ve felt under increasing pressure to “tell a nicer story” or to fast forward to recommending actions - usually simple, measurable, immediate, non-transformative actions - rather than facilitating the learning that would allow organisations and leaders to make well-informed decisions and deeper, systemic shifts that will ultimately benefit them (as well as everybody else!). 


    2) Precarity and power dynamics in freelance work. Without the protections of formal employment, nor the security of knowing you’ll be offered ongoing work, pushing back things like these shifting demands or raising any other concerns can feel difficult and dangerous… because it is. Being perceived as critical, negative, demanding, idealistic or emotional (all of which are something of an occupational hazard when you’re tasked with delivering uncomfortable information or campaigning for change) can end working relationships abruptly. Add to this that it’s easy, and perhaps convenient, to undervalue freelancers/contractors, with pay being just one salient aspect of this. Once you factor in all the costs, time and accountability clients pass on by not employing someone formally - think holiday and sickness allowances, pensions, insurance, equipment, software, workspace etc - paying a freelancer equivalent to an annual salary at UK living wage would mean offering a day rate of at least £300 - something that is incredibly rare to come across in climate communication.* I don’t know of anybody who does this kind of work for the money nor for an easy life - we do it because we care deeply about it. But as a consequence, I recognise I have accepted or tolerated conditions and behaviours that have undermined the foundations of my ability to do good work. This runs far deeper than the financial precarity I knew was a risk; I was not prepared for the impacts on my self-confidence, trust and safety in relationships, and physical & mental health. 

    * See (for example) the methodology, calculations and guidance from the Creators Rights Alliance Freelance Day Rate Guide. In 2025, I’ve worked two single days for rates higher than £250. For a variety of reasons almost half of the work I have done this year has ended up being unpaid.


    3) Generative AI. To summarise my personal resistance to embracing generative AI, I (legitimately!) fear that it’s enabling and turbocharging so many of our most destructive activities and behaviors. Naively, I hadn’t anticipated that my own work would be particularly impacted by it. But this year I have been surprised by how readily and how rapidly tools like chatGPT have been normalised, even within environmental communication and activism.* I have lost creative work to AI. I’m aware that my words have been fed to LLMs that have then been used to write like me… yet say things I wouldn’t. However ‘good’ AI models appear to be, they can’t reliably nor critically evaluate whether they’re serving up the best-available information, nor can they draw on the uniquely human experiences that allow you to carefully consider specific audiences and the nuances of what is (and isn’t) likely to resonate with them. Precisely because of how LLMs are built and trained, they’re extremely prone to reinforcing already-dominant ideas, which is a particular problem for anyone seeking to challenge those often-harmful norms and pave the way for us to create better ones together. It has felt surreal and quite demoralising to have had to advocate for the value that real humans bring to climate communication. I know that this will be something we will have to keep responding and rising to. 

    * I could accidentally turn this into a long dissection of the issues around generative AI and the specific harms I am most concerned about, but for now here are just some of the environmental and ethical reasons to bear in mind when considering using it. Also, to be clear it is not my intention to judge others for using it, especially in situations where I know there has been careful consideration of whether and how to do so.


    4) Communication and conflict in spaces where exhaustion, burnout and financial pressures are rife. I get to work closely with committed, caring, talented people, which is an enormous privilege and joy; almost all of my colleagues, collaborators and clients quickly become people I hold a lot of respect for, trust in and would consider friends. At the same time as being incredibly valuable, this raises the stakes when stresses or conflicts flare up. I've seen multiple once-positive relationships break down lately, some catastrophically, often without a clear reason. Where I’ve been directly involved or affected, it’s felt painful and confusing. My best explanation is that the strains of this work and of the times we live in are really starting to show themselves. The work we do can be distressing, enraging, unforgiving, isolating. Many of us have experienced repeated defeat and personal attacks in the course doing our (imperfect!) best in pursuit of a safer, fairer world… yet so many of us (myself absolutely included) have been slow to acknowledge and attend to the toll this takes. When worn-down people are trying to do difficult work together, it can create conditions for a ‘perfect storm’ (by which I mean an extremely crap storm): we place ourselves in intense, often stressful environments that demand we communicate clearly and that we take time to properly listen to and support one another… all whilst our capacity for either is compromised. Experiencing how this can play out has forced me to take stock and start to be more intentional about finding a sustainable balance between action, rest and recovery.

    

    The Learning

    It’s been a tough year. But without meaning to sound clichéd I’m grateful for all I’ve learned from it. A few things I will be taking forward with me are:

    • Choosing projects carefully, prioritising balance instead of pushing further beyond my limits, seeking and contributing to supportive working environments and relationships.  
    • Courage to advocate more assertively both for the value of my own work and for conditions that make continuing to do this work sustainable. 
    • Remembering the power in honesty and vulnerability. Communicating through personal stories, despite initially feeling intimidating, has unlocked better, kinder conversations with a broader range of people this year.


    Without meaning to sound even more clichéd I’m hugely thankful for all the people who have made this learning possible, for their wisdom, experience, support, care and love. This year I’d like to specifically acknowledge how much I’ve appreciated Caroline, Emma, Viola, Shana, Susi, Sophie, Jen, Lynn, Aaron, Rich, Kirsten, Sophia, Simon, Nick, Amy, Dom, Curly, Molly, Pete & Rob. 


    Signing off for 2025 🥼💚