Climate change is already present in the world, and much of it is caused by human beings. The purpose of this book is not to further establish or illustrate these facts, already supported by a strong scientific consensus, yet again. Rather, the purpose of this book is to examine the potential of improved, to some extent redirected, research-based communication efforts to contribute to the development of both individual action and collective societal will. We need to press for new policy solutions at the local, national, and global levels. We believe that a broad-based approach is essential to fully enable mitigation and adaptation with respect to our changing climate, as well as to identify some of the important research gaps and possibilities presented by the present communication environment. In order to move toward accomplishing these goals, the book considers and also critiques some of the streams of communication research that have generally dominated approaches to the issue of climate, pointing out a number of lessons, challenges, and opportunities. For those of us sincerely concerned about making a positive difference, communication research can help (although of course it cannot illuminate everything). Some paths and some concepts emerging from communication and other social science researchâmuch of this work going back many decadesâhave proven very likely to be helpful at the present juncture. However, myths about the nature of public opinion on science-related issues persist, and some of the available research paths remain seemingly neglected or forgotten, underexplored and underexploited in the fight against the present climate stalemate.
This book proposes that the communication research community and others interested in addressing the question of climate change, including scientists and practicing communicators, need to rethink some of their assumptions and approachesâwhile redoubling their already extensive efforts. In so doing, the book tries to chart a few new directions for the field of communication studies (and its newest subdiscipline, science communication studies), urging something of a return to the fieldâs roots in social science and a departure from over-dependence on both thinking and methodology drawn from research focused on the psychology of individuals rather than groups. We fully acknowledge that much of that work remains important and can guide some forms of practice very effectively, and we briefly survey it here (especially in Chap. 3). However, it is a key premise of this book that public opinion and societal will are, at root, collective phenomena rather than simply characteristics of individuals. Better understanding these phenomena and what it means to consider them at the collective level can also provide us with a better understanding of what it means to be human, to be an individual who may in some cases live and work almost entirely aloneâan option supported by contemporary technologyâbut who is inevitably tied by a thousand cords to the collective whole in which political, economic, and cultural dynamics that far transcend the individual play out. While often insightful, individual-level approaches to persuasion represent only part of the much bigger story. What we need in order to move forward is a multi-pronged approach in both research and practice.
In the United States, in late 2015, some important signs of positive change began to appear on the horizonâas well as some other important signs that appeared headed in the opposite direction. U.S. President Barack Obama had finally begun to speak openly about this issue and to raise it with other international leaders after years of near silence. Pope Francis also visited the Americas and came forward calling for action on climate, a hopeful development even for those of us who are not conventionally religious: The Catholic church claims well over a billion members worldwide, and the Pope has respect even beyond that group. Since public opinion is influenced by opinion visibility and the influence of that visibility on perceptions about what others think, these individuals and others like themâthe type of person that social scientists have long called âopinion leadersââplay a vital role, even where it is primarily a symbolic one. Opinion leaders can exist on many levelsâwithin a family, a neighborhood, a province or state, a professional or cultural group, or a nation. Obama and Francis are truly global opinion leaders, in positions allowing them to exert influence around the world. To get the climate message across, though, we also need opinion leaders at all levels and in many walks of life who follow their lead and speak openly and with a sense of urgency about the existence and importance of climate change.
And public opinion, as measured by poll results, continues to evolve. While the United States has sometimes been compared unfavorably to Europe, where recognition of climate problems seemed to have emerged earlier and more strongly, the Yale Project on Climate Change Communication reports that as of 2014, 63 % of Americans believed that climate change (âglobal warmingâ) was happening, and even though only 48 % believed that this is caused mainly by human activities, 77 % nevertheless supported research into renewable energy, 74 % supported regulating CO2 as a pollutant, and 63 % supported strict controls on CO2 emissions for coal-fired power plants (Howe et al. 2015). In other words, significant numbers of people support action on climate and energy even if they do not accept the idea of human causation of climate change and evenâfor some pointsâif they do not accept climate change at all. It is past time to stop focusing on the estimated 18 % (according to this same report) who simply do not believe in climate change and to find ways for the majority who do believe the science to move forward with solutions. In the United States, at 63 %, this group is over three and a half times as many people as remain âunbelieversâ.
Yet here is the less welcome news: The news coverage of the U.S. presidential candidates that was unfolding in 2015, accompanying the historic run-up to the party primaries preceding the November 2016 presidential election, very often featured Republican party (right of center) contenders initially in the forefront in the race for their partyâs nomination who are climate skeptics, including Donald Trump (who has called climate change a hoax invented by the Chinese to destroy the American economy; Desjardins and Boyd 2015) and Ben Carson (who has called the climate debate âirrelevantâ because temperature change is cyclic; Desjardins 2015). That individuals with these views could rise to national prominence, despite these unscientific perspectives on climate, in a nation that considers itself one of the most powerful on earth is not encouraging. Both Democratic party (left of center) candidates, Hillary Clinton and Bernie Sanders, stated they accept the reality of climate change, although neither made it a particularly central campaign issue. However, the science of climate in itself should never have become a political weapon in the first place. And the peculiar dynamics of this particular election cycle illustrate how easily the perception of collective public opinion can come to diverge from the reality, given the attention and implied credibility bestowed on the Republican candidates by the news mediaâthereby lending legitimacy and power to their âskepticalâ positions on climate.
This issue of distorted perception of public opinion is itself a challenge for defining a path forward on communicating climate change. Major funding from a variety of often untraceable counter-movement groups and organizations (Brulle 2012), as well as from the energy industry (Frumhoff and Oreskes 2015), promotes âdenierâ perspectives on the science of climate. This not only misrepresents the scientific consensus, it also contributes to the misperception that Americans more generally do not believe in climate change and do not want to do anything about it. The more denier voices are heard and seen, the more they will seem like majority opinionâeven if they are not. The issue is not limited to the direct effects of expressing âdenierâ ideas, or defining them as âscientificâ. Public perception of the range and valence of public opinion is also important.
News media cannot resist covering the provocative statements of candidates like Trump and Carson or other public figures, even though they are not actually typical of American or even necessarily Republican views. The Yale project has also highlighted differences within the Republican party, and their figures show that liberal and moderate Republicans also believe climate change is occurring (at 68 % and 62 %, respectively; Howe et al. 2015). It can be extremely important for those in the majority to realize that they are in the majority, part of what this book will discuss in its upcoming chapters. The new message should not be âclimate change existsâ or even âclimate change exists, and it is caused by humansâ, but âclimate change believers are a strong majority, and they want actionâ.
The present chapter is intended to provide us with a few specific starting points for considering these and other questions. We are concerned with the longer-term future, not just the immediate political context. We first need to grasp some of the recent trends and current thinking in science communication studies, which may be largely unfamiliar even to communication scholars who have not previously focused on science-related issues and therefore may be unfamiliar with these arguments, as well as to many natural scientists and communication practitioners. Science communication scholarship and practice have undergone major change over the past several decades. Science educators (including most practicing university-based scientists) are accustomed to focusing, naturally enough, on conveying accurate scientific information to their students. But for changing both individual and collective opinion, and for generating broader social change, that may not always be the most important thingâand it may not always be enough. To continue to move toward solutions, we also need to rethink a research paradigm that presently tilts sharply in the direction of studying individuals rather than groups. And we need to think more deeply about the broader purposes of communicating science, including climate science, as well as about how public opinion is actually formed.
Deficit Versus Dialogue
Both scholarly and applied approaches to science communication are sometimes described as having moved from âdeficitâ to âdialogueâ, a change that is in itself something of a social movement. Like most such catchy phrases that become popular, within as well as outside of academic circles, this shift means somewhat different things to different people. Changing attitudes toward science, or opinions on science-related issues, would certainly seem to require awareness of the science itself. No one who supports a science-based solution to something like climate change would really argue with this. However, at the same time, most people do not need or want to know all the science available, in order simply to make up their minds about an issue. They just need âenoughâ scienceâwhat is sometimes called âsatisficingâ or reaching some subjective internal threshold of perceived adequacy. How much information is enough is a matter of individual perception, in other words. And giving out information about science, while it can certainly help people reach that threshold, is not necessarily the best way to change peopleâs attitudes or beliefs, especially once their minds have been made up. It is not enough to change minds (for climate, âdeniersâ simply do not believe the evidence, however much they are offered), and it is also not enough to motivate action, in many casesâeven though it might help explain what kind of action will help and why.
To illustrate how this works, consider a different example. I can have an opinion about whether we should continue to invest in the space program without actually knowing how to build a rocket ship. I just need to know that the engineers know how to do this, so that the investment (not to mention astronautsâ lives) will not be too easily wasted, and I also need to have a general sense of what society will gain from that investment. On these specific points, I usually need to trust the judgments of the scientific and engineering communities. Broader policy issues, on the other hand, are often largely either value judgments or strategic choices; whether investing in the space program is a better choice than investing in some other program is not entirely a âscientificâ question. We hope that related public opinion will be scientifically informed, but it is not necessarily determined by science. Giving me more information (in this case, about the space programâor, say, about space science more generally) is unlikely to change my mind, unless perhaps it also excites and inspires me.
To consider another example, people generally support investments in medical research because they value good health and they can see an obvious benefit to themselves and others. This doesnât depend on their knowing everything that their doctor knows. Indeed, linking the general issue of climate change to a desire to protect our public health is a reasonable strategic approach, one some strategists have been pursuing and that even U.S. President Barrack Obama has occasionally mentioned (Subramanian 2013). Most people probably will not want all the details, however; it would ordinarily be enough simply to know that there is a link that makes sense in a general kind of way. For this, they need to trust the messenger as much as they do to understand the science.
Importantly, the same people who support health research or the space program may or may not see the benefit in supporting more basic research (say, in biology or astronomy) or environmental research (say, finding the best way to protect the habitat of an endangered species). The values that each of these activities appeals to are distinct. And when weighing benefits and costs, the gains involved are not always tangible economic ones. For example, for those who find natural environments inherently valuable, protecting habitat is inherently meaningful. And space initiatives clearly have symbolic value for the national pride of participating nations, as well as knowledge gains reflected in both basic science and in âspin-offâ innovations.
âPureâ science, on the other hand, is sometimes likened to art as something society should value for its own sake, and different people will disagree on how important this is. In other words, reasonable people can vary in how much they value different societal investments, including investments in different forms of scienceâor in science generallyâand those opinions do not depend solely on the known scientific facts. Neither do other science-related beliefs. It is unlikely that improved knowledge of science will dissuade people from rejecting evolution if their underlying worldview insists that God, not biology, is responsible. (There is no compelling evidence of a single, monolithic, âanti-scienceâ perspective; each specific issue is different.) To persuade people to invest time and resources in mitigating climate change, we need to appeal to their beliefs and values, not just get them to accept the science.
The idea that providing an abundance of scientific facts will necessarily alter peopleâs opinions in a direction more consistent with the opinions of the scientific community has generally proven false based on the empirical evidence. That is in large part why science communication scholars now refer to this older way of thinking as the âdeficit modelââthe belief that public opinion (and public relations) problems can be solved with improved dissemination of scientific information alone. For example, neither education nor knowledge is closely linked to opinions about biotechnology (Priest 2000). This is not to say that knowledge is unimportant (Sturgis and Allum 2004), but only that the relationships here are much more complex and nuanced than observers might initially supposeâand that peopleâs opinions are based on many factors other than possession of the scientific facts, notably their values and beliefs. Unfortunately, the so-called âdeficit modelâ that assumes people have a knowledge deficit relative to science and so teaching the science will âsolveâ the âproblemâ continues to be reinvented. Many people, including many natural scientists, intuitively assume that it is obvious that improving science literacy will get people on their side. However, this is just not necessarily the case.
Turning away from the âdeficit modelâ toward a more âdialogicâ or âpublic engagementâ approach has become assoc...