I left The Guardian’s Climate Forum 2026 feeling both frightened by the scale of the issues but also fired up to be more actively engaged. There is plenty to worry about, from worsening food security, the €444 billion European fossil-fuel subsidies, to the snail’s pace of our energy transition. But what stayed with me wasn't a nightmare-inducing statistic. It was a point about the power of storytelling. 
 
Amy Fairman, head of campaigns at River Action, was talking about how we counter the anxiety that increasingly accompanies climate news. She said: “Storytelling is actually the key to overcoming despair.” 
 
That hit home. As communicators, we spend our working lives turning complicated issues into stories people understand and care about. Yet when the subject is as serious, and frankly as overwhelming, as climate change, are we actually engaging people or just adding to the noise?  

Urgency doesn't have to mean hopelessness 

The Forum didn't pull its punches. Professor Andy Haines, from the London School of Hygiene & Tropical Medicine, described the growing health risks of climate change. Dr Gareth Thomas, chief executive of the National Biodiversity Network Trust, pointed to the UK's poor progress against environmental targets. And Friends of the Earth's Asad Rehman argued that climate, nature and inequality crises cannot be tackled in isolation. 
 
These aren't messages we should dilute. If we continually repeat the scale of a problem without encouraging action, we risk leaving audiences feeling powerless rather than motivated. 
 
There's a world of difference between communicating urgency and communicating hopelessness. Good storytelling must be grounded in the facts, while helping audiences  understand what can be done in response.  Unfounded optimism is as futile as relentless doom. 

Make it relevant, make it real 

Some of the most effective moments during the discussion were when speakers gave complicated ideas a human scale. 
 
Prof Haines explained the “wrong pocket problem” - one government department paying for an improvement, while another sees the saving. Retrofitting homes, for example, can make people warmer and healthier, reducing healthcare costs. Suddenly, this knotty funding issue is simplified through a relatable example. 
 
Energy minister, Katie White used another everyday analogy, comparing our dependence on imported fossil fuels with renting a property, and investment in home-grown energy with buying a home. You don't have to agree with every aspect of government policy to recognise that the comparison made an abstract investment argument easier to follow. 
 
Dr Thomas went on to describe how ten volunteers in Derbyshire verified 155,000 moth records in a year. It's an extraordinary contribution to the evidence needed to understand biodiversity changes – and a compelling illustration of how individual action can make a difference. 

These examples reminded me that effective environmental communications aren't about making complex challenges seem simple. They're about showing why they matter and, crucially, what people can do about them. 

For organisations making environmental claims, that combination is vital. The evidence gives the story credibility, while the people involved give it meaning. 

Are we talking to people, or at them? 

One of my biggest takeaways was the need to understand the audience before trying to change its mind. 
 
Mr Rehman described Friends of the Earth's work listening to communities. People spoke about high energy bills, poor housing, buses (or lack of them) and wanting safe green spaces for their kids to play. They weren't necessarily framing their concerns as a debate about carbon targets and yet the reality is that environmental decisions are already shaping their daily lives. 
 
The same applies to farming, where the stakes are particularly high. Farmers are expected to produce affordable food, manage costs, adapt to policy changes and deliver environmental improvements. It's not enough to tell them what needs to change without acknowledging what that demands of their businesses. 
 
And here's something that slightly irked me. A Forum discussing agricultural pollution, food security, changing diets and biodiversity didn't have a farming representative on the panel. There were important perspectives from researchers and campaigners, but little opportunity to hear directly from the people producing our food. A missed opportunity, surely, when meaningful progress depends on their involvement. It's also a useful reminder for anyone working in comms – if we want to influence behaviour, we need to involve the people we're asking to adapt the most. 

Tell the story of what could be different 

Mr Rehman made a sharp observation about environmental campaigning, stating that we spend a lot of time saying what we don't want, and not enough describing what we do. That's also a challenge to those of us in communications. 
 
It's easy to lead with the problem: declining biodiversity, fragile food systems, polluted rivers. Harder, but far more valuable, is showing what progress looks like, what the evidence supports and where people or businesses can realistically contribute. 
 
Helping audiences understand both the challenge and the potential opportunities is fundamental to encouraging meaningful engagement. 
 
I didn't leave the Forum with easy answers, but I was reminded that credible environmental communications must acknowledge the scale and complexity of the challenges we face, without leaving audience feeling powerless. 
 
The stories we choose, the voices we include and how we communicate what progress could look like, all influence whether people feel alienated or involved. Good storytelling isn't about making difficult truths more palatable. It's about helping people understand what they can do to empower themselves. 

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