Communicating climate when disaster strikes
The fires tearing through Los Angeles. The deadly floods in Texas. Hurricane Helene's devastation. Each of these should serve as what political scientists call “focusing events” for the climate crisis—those sudden, dramatic occurrences that draw widespread attention to a particular issue and catalyze policy change or reform.
But we're so polarized that half the population refuses to make the connection while the other half often engages in smug “told you so” language.
When people are suffering and dying, it feels gross to immediately pivot to climate policy. But if we don't acknowledge the correlation between these disasters and our changing climate, we're allowing more suffering and death down the road.
This tension sits at the heart of one of our most challenging sustainability communication dilemmas. How do we connect the dots to systemic issues that require urgent action without sounding like a jerk?
The focusing events that aren't
Focusing events are supposed to break through the normal “noise” of politics by creating shared experiences that make abstract policy problems concrete and urgent. They shift public opinion, elevate issues on the policy agenda, and create windows of opportunity for previously stalled reforms.
But in our current environment, climate disasters often do the opposite. Instead of bringing us together around solutions, they drive us further apart. One side retreats into denial about causation, with some (*cough Marjorie Taylor Greene *cough) more amenable to fantastical conspiracy theories like weather control devices than science. Meanwhile, the other side (often the side of the corporate sustainability professional) retreats into righteousness about being right all along.
Neither response helps the people whose lives have been destroyed. And neither response advances the systemic changes we need to prevent future disasters from being quite so devastating.
Five principles for communicating climate around extreme weather
After years of watching these dynamics play out—and participating in more than a few conversations that went south—I've developed some guidelines for how we might do better:
Lead with empathy. Don't gloat about other people's suffering. Yes, people vote against their interests constantly, and yes, some communities have actively resisted climate action. We can't let our frustration fester into indecency. The moment we start treating human suffering as vindication for our policy positions is the moment we lose the moral high ground—and our effectiveness.
Give it time. Disasters require focusing on immediate needs like saving lives and helping those in trouble. Don't jump straight to the post-mortem. There's a time for rescue and relief, and there's a time for reflection and reform. Conflating the two makes us look callous and damages trust when we most need to build it.
Focus on solutions. People who are resistant to climate action are often more open to adaptation strategies. With these floods, we can discuss investing in better emergency response systems for earlier warnings, improved infrastructure, or smarter land-use planning. This builds trust in scientists and experts, who become seen as helpers rather than scolds. It may open doors to eventually discussing mitigation as well.
Get your facts straight. Not every disaster is directly caused by climate change. What's accurate is that the climate crisis increases the likelihood of more severe and unpredictable disasters. It's like performance-enhancing drugs in baseball—they help a player hit more home runs, but not every home run is because of the drugs. Be precise about what we know and honest about what we don't.
Use disasters to break down barriers. We're all human. We all feel love, pain, fear, and hope. Climate disasters hurt everyone regardless of political affiliation. Even when others are being nasty, we need to take the higher road and use these moments as opportunities to connect on our common humanity rather than score political points.
Remembering these guidelines the next time a climate disaster strikes will go a long way in helping us to develop stronger approaches to channeling public awareness into political capital that allows for meaningful change.
The high stakes of getting this right
The sustainability communication choices we make around climate disasters matter more than we might realize. Every time we handle these conversations poorly, we make future progress harder. Every time someone feels lectured or blamed during their moment of crisis, we lose a potential ally. Every time we prioritize being right over being helpful, we undermine our own cause.
But when we get it right—when we show up with genuine empathy and practical solutions—we create space for the kinds of conversations that actually change minds and build support for necessary policies.
The climate crisis demands that we become better sustainability communicators, not just better scientists or policymakers. The stakes are too high for us to keep screwing it up.
This piece appeared in the July 2025 ENGAGE newsletter. Sign up for the newsletter here.
