Positive Advertising About The Climate Crisis

Is our glass half full or half empty? Unfortunately, negative news cycles encourage us to look at what’s not there; what divides us instead of unite us; on the everyday becoming a little harder instead of what can make it easier.

How on earth is talking about the climate crisis going to help and what are we supposed to be advertising?

Carbon Copy asked Chris Baker, the founder of Change Brands, an accomplished creative agency helping brands become positive catalysts for change, on what it takes to shift the narrative on climate action into a positive force. Chris is also the author of the book “Obsolete: How Change Brands are Changing the World”.

CC: We believe tackling the climate crisis is foremost a communications challenge, not a technical one. Would you agree?

CB: Completely. Technically, we already know what to do. We have renewable energy, heat pumps, electrified transport, regenerative agriculture, and so much more. The solutions exist. What we lack is mass adoption.

The challenge isn’t invention, it’s inspiration.

In Obsolete, I talk about how every major shift happens only once culture flips. Not when a better product exists, but when people can see themselves choosing it. That’s a communications problem: most climate communication has focused on fear, guilt and sacrifice. Change doesn’t happen when people feel bad. It happens when they feel part of something exciting, possible, inevitable.

The climate crisis isn’t a science problem. It’s a story problem.

CC: Why do you think the carbon footprint is potentially “the greatest trick the devil ever pulled”?

CB: Because it reframed a systemic issue as a personal failing.

Oil companies literally invented the concept of the “personal carbon footprint” – with a bit of help from some leading advertising agencies – to shift blame onto individuals. Instead of questioning fossil fuel extraction, we were encouraged to question stuff like whether we boiled too much water in the kettle.

If you convince people the problem is their fault,
you remove responsibility from the systems causing the harm.

In the Usual Suspects film, Verbal Kint talks about how ‘the greatest trick the devil ever pulled was convincing the world he didn’t exist’. And while oil companies didn’t quite manage this, they did get people to look the other way so they could shift responsibility away from themselves.

CC: This carbon footprint tool has been very effective in pushing the responsibility for climate change onto individuals. What was it about the campaign that made it stick and tar us?

CB: It used the psychology of shame and self-surveillance. The campaign made climate change feel like an exam you could never pass. No matter what you did; recycle more, turn off lights, it was never enough.

And when a problem feels unwinnable, we disengage. We move from agency to apathy.

The narrative should never have been: “You’re the problem.”

It should always have been: “Together, we’re the solution.”

CC: Does advertising have the power to turn this on its head and shift the conversation from individual responsibility to taking action together?

CB: Absolutely, because advertising shapes cultural norms.

We copy what we see. That’s the entire insight behind the Carbon Copy film.

Once people see others taking action, neighbours installing solar, communities transforming spaces, councils leading change, the behaviour becomes socially contagious.

Advertising can take climate action from a niche behaviour to a social default.

We don’t need everyone to lead. We just need enough people visibly taking part that the rest follow.

CC: How do the rules of advertising apply to communication about the climate crisis?

CB: In Obsolete, I argue that brands don’t win by educating people – they win by inspiring changes in culture.

The same rules that sell trainers or chocolate apply to climate:

1. Make it simple- People don’t remember complexity; they remember clarity. One big idea beats 100 facts.
2. Make it positive – We move towards things that feel exciting, not things that feel heavy or guilt-ridden. Optimism works.
3. Make it socially normal – Behaviour spreads through imitation. When people see others doing something, it becomes the default.

Most climate communication tries to inform people into caring. But information doesn’t change behaviour – identity does.

If you want behaviour change, don’t lecture. Invite people into a better story.

CC: ChangeBrands worked on a film for Carbon Copy, titled Copying is human nature. Why do you believe this insight is so powerful?

CB: Because it’s true at a biological level. We are wired to copy. We learn language, culture, behaviour, all through imitation. Instead of fighting that, we use it.

The ad shows ordinary people copying positive climate actions from each other, making progress feel easy, normal, human. And most importantly, contagious. It’s designed to create a new collective norm with groups of people working together to make a positive impact.

It reframes climate action from “Be the first” to “Just copy someone who’s already doing it.”

That removes friction and make it far easier for people and communities to get involved.

CC: Is there a role for positive advertising in shifting attitudes and behaviours about taking climate action?

CB: There’s not just a role. There’s a responsibility. Fear paralyses people, whereas optimism mobilises them. People don’t change because they’re scared of the future. They change because they’re excited to build a better one.

Positive advertising makes climate action feel desirable and socially rewarding. If climate action feels good, people repeat it. If people repeat it, systems shift. This is how movements happen.

CC: Anything else you would like to add?

CB: The future isn’t written yet. But the story we tell now determines the ending.

If we change the narrative, we change the behaviour.
If we change the behaviour, we change the world.

That’s one of the great things about the campaign. It shows we don’t need heroes. We just need people willing to copy better behaviour.