How to confront division
On approaching the storm
It has been a while since I last wrote anything here, which I regret. This has been a challenging year, but with support from those around me, I have been able to reflect.
Looking at my life and work, I find them divided into personas. Each persona operates in a separate paradigm where different rules and relationships hold sway.
Therefore, I’m seeking a change – a fresh start. To live, as far as possible, in a single reality.
In this post, I explain why I think this is a microcosm of the struggle for a better world. While the story is mine, I hope you’ll be able to relate it to your own.
From the top
If you have come to In the Balance recently, you might not be familiar with my background and the original intent behind this publication.
It feels like time to (re)introduce myself.
For almost a decade, I have been researching and advising big institutions (governments, corporates, international organisations) on policies to tackle climate change. I started out in non-profit and university roles, then became a freelancer.
The aim of this work is to inform and influence decisions made by people in positions of power to increase sustainability – including nature and people’s wellbeing as well as climate. That means looking at how money gets spent, which projects get implemented, and who is involved in the process (including the decision-making itself).
Organisations like those I have worked for subscribe to a ‘theory of change’. That theory usually looks something like this: climate change and inequality can be overcome by marshalling evidence, presenting the arguments, and communicating these with people who can do something about it.
The trouble is that in almost every context, there’s a similar story. People in key roles are often willing, even desperate, to do things better, but they feel blocked. They face opposition. They hear the evidence and the arguments and they ask, “great – how can it be done?”
And the wheel turns.
Recent tales from Planet Earth
The richest man in the world was appointed to public office. He used his tenure to dismantle USAID, the leading superpower’s vehicle for international support, thereby withdrawing life-saving assistance from millions of vulnerable people. For this crime against humanity, he remains unaccountable (in terms of public justice, not private capital).
Not long after, the UK government also cut its international support as a share of GDP, contrary to its earlier, stated intention to reverse a prior cut by the previous government. Its treatment and arrests of protestors supporting Palestine Action – after parliamentarians voted that group onto a terrorist list – open the door to similar treatment for environmental organisations. (Bear in mind that legal proceedings against climate activists have already been disproportionate.)
In July, French coastal police used knives to deflate a boat (while in shallow water) carrying people trying to cross the English Channel to migrate to the UK. They did so in full view of a BBC news crew – who, as tabloid paper The Sun put it while resharing the video, were “conveniently on hand to film it”.
Meanwhile, the planet’s systems are shifting and disrupting the conditions that have sustained human life and flourishing for so long.
has the score:“6 of the 25 global tipping points identified in the 2023 Global Tipping Points Report are close to being met today: warm water coral reefs, the ice sheets of Greenland and West Antarctica, the North Atlantic subpolar gyre circulation and parts of the permafrost subject to abrupt thawing.”
The stories above make it harder to imagine a future where the world avoids the worst effects of these enormous changes. They also explain why the effects will not be felt evenly. Or as Williams puts it: “we’re experiencing what others – namely indigenous communities and nations – have felt for a very long time now.” As for migration, more people will be displaced, and their suffering will increase.
Yet to understand why, as
explains, we have to look further than some band of populist boogeymen.Not only Western governments but their state apparatus, including in some instances their legal and media institutions, are steadily turning against expressions of solidarity – whether in word and deed – with the majority world.
Sustainability, disconnected
One of my projects this year involved reviewing and scrutinising the UK’s recent climate aid spending. Another aimed to support large companies and private financial firms to monitor their climate and social investments more effectively. Both are trends in decline.
The opposition within the political right to all forms of solidarity and sustainability, especially in the West, appears to be hardening so quickly that it might pose an existential threat to entire organisations and professions created to address the climate and nature crises.
The threat itself represents a failure to build and sustain a truly public consensus in the value of these institutions.
As such, disillusionment within my professional field has turned increasingly into alarm, and even fear.
To process this and to change course, I believe we have to look at the social context within which we work. Behavioural paradigms often curtail the connection and relationships, with each other and with ourselves, that truly generate change.
(To be clear, I am writing based on my own experience, about established NGOs and research institutions focused on influencing policy and finance, and the operational worlds of corporates and governments. The raft of local action groups and public campaigns working for sustainability, for all the challenges they face, might see the issue differently.)
As
writes, in a post worth reading in its entirety:“At the moment I’m afraid we’re talking our way past the change. Day after day. In every meeting… Right now, I’m surrounded by theories and infographics about how things should be. And I’m afraid we’re externalizing everything - making it something “out there,” rational, measurable - instead of changing how we relate to one another. To ourselves. To the life we live every day.”
The climate movement alone is rife with factional disagreements and unhealthy egos. Heavy workloads and constant talk of ‘urgency’ are worsened by bureaucratic processes, often required by funders. Teams working under stress are frequently marked by exchanges without listening, and not often enough by humility in the face of uncertainty.
One rarely finds spaces to be emotionally open and vulnerable with colleagues, despite working with themes that are frightening, depressing, and overwhelming. Tools like statistics and models make this worse: they alienate people from the real meaning of what we’re talking about – including those of us using them.
Unsurprisingly, burnout has soared, especially among younger colleagues who carry the load when things get tough yet are given the least space for self-expression.
The limits to reciprocity, openness, and reflection within and between organisations extend to how they approach the wider public, and their own critics. Outreach and ‘stakeholder engagement’ can be interpreted to mean speaking more to those who already (mostly) agree with us.
Our theory of change has failed to describe reality.
The task at hand is to update our understanding and expectations, and act from there.
Becoming whole
There is no ending just around the corner.
Instead, as
and guests outline on the new podcast Overshoot: Navigating a world beyond 1.5°C, we are at the edge of the storm, about to sail into it. What counts now is how we update our “mindset and strategy” to sail through. How do we keep the crew together as the gale lashes the boat?To find greater integrity and cohesion in our movement and in wider society, I am looking for it in myself first.
By no means am I turning my back. I’ll keep trying to use my skills to make a difference, from the position I have access to. (It is also my livelihood, after all.) But I’m committing to make decisions and give advice with eyes wide open to how the world and its social fabric are changing. I need to know that I am not leaving anything vital – however heavy – outside the room. And I want to know that my colleagues and collaborators feel the same.
In the Balance, its content, and the meaning I have tried to bring into the world by writing it have always been imbued with a sligtly different worldview to my other work. It seeks to bring out the messiness and the human-ness. It doesn’t aim to be ‘expert’ or to give clear prescriptions.
For a while, I thought that separation was a strength. Consider a DJ and producer who performs under various names. Some rhythms are best heard in certain settings, their particular frequency best felt just so; an alias offers a signal for listeners to recognise and tune into.
Yet now I wonder if my effort at self-delineation has denied myself certain degrees of awareness, skills and knowledge. Might nurturing and linking these different faculties more completely produce something meaningful for others too?
I’m not sure yet what form it will take, but I know that whatever emerges from all of this will do so gradually. Building from a core that includes this newsletter and some related projects (see below), I intend to prioritise work that speaks to the values set out above – that is truly honest about how we relate to the world amid the storm.
The motivation behind this post was to share my experience.
Equally important is to ask questions: those that are difficult and point to challenges we might prefer to ignore; and those that are sensitive and invite a moment of awareness.
Even if the outcome doesn’t (or can’t) change this time, because of structures and patterns that constrain us, awareness has an echo.
The louder that echo becomes, the better the chance of using it to navigate, and of finding possibility amid the chaos.
Where to go next
I’m excited to be hosting more climate circles. These are confidential, open and reflective spaces to talk about and listen to each other on climate change, nature loss, and anything those bring up for you. Get in touch if you’d like to join one (whether here, LinkedIn, or Instagram).
There are essential findings in the 2025 update of Britain Talks Climate and Nature, produced by Climate Outreach and More in Common. For instance: “people are more likely to trust those speaking about climate change who are credible, passionate, and empathetic”. While credibility might mean ‘high-quality experience working on the topic” or a scientific qualification, there is a “pervading general distrust of statistics”. And – unsurprisingly given recent political narratives – people are twice as likely to think that those who are members of protest or activist groups are less trustworthy than more trustworthy (37 percent versus 18 percent). Check out their toolkit for communicators to navigate this skilfully.
Over 80 percent of the global population support stronger government action on climate change, or so suggests Covering Climate Now. I want to know what lies beneath that number – who are those people and what do they (and don’t they) really support? What do they think of, when they think about climate action? I’m watching to see how journalism can illuminate these questions.
Please note: earlier this year I paused paid subscriptions and deactivated the option for new ones. If you’re in that small group, I’m hugely grateful for your support, and I would love to write frequently enough to warrant it. I’m still experimenting to find a rhythm that works.
If you’ve made it this far, please let me know if there’s anything you’d like to learn about here or themes and topics that you’d like to see covered.
Thank you for reading,
Rob
Brilliantly written. Sadly, so true and relatable...
I feel you. I too am a lifelong environmentalist, climate activist. It's so grim just now with this regime. There is just so much crap going on environmental issues barely get mentioned.