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3 things the U.S. climate movement must do differently

In 2006, Al Gore’s “Inconvenient Truth” warned us that climate change was both real and dangerous. Almost 20 years later, we have largely accepted this reality: 70% of Americans acknowledge the climate crisis and 57% are alarmed or concerned about it.
Yet Americans just re-elected Donald Trump president — a man who calls climate change a “hoax” and wants to dismantle the biggest climate law in history. Moreover, Democratic nominee Vice President Kamala Harris tried to win Pennsylvania by defending fracking and bragging about oil drilling.
Politically speaking, can you blame them? Exit polls estimate that only 7% of voters listed climate change as the country’s most important issue.
This reveals an even less convenient truth: even as the climate crisis kills us in ever-greater numbers, voter support for climate leadership is a mile wide and an inch deep — most people want it, but almost nobody votes based on it.
Politicians know this, and if we don’t embark upon a crash course to dramatically increase the climate movement’s political power, we are in deep trouble. To start, we must make three big changes to how we approach climate politics: we must reframe how we tell the story of the climate crisis, we must focus more on voters than on politicians, and we must campaign year-round at every level of government.
Countless scientific studies show that humans are hardwired to tell stories. We have evolved to use narrative as a survival technique — like other animals use camouflage or echolocation — and our stories give us the power to cooperate and solve enormously complex problems.
When we adopt the role of protagonist, name a villain with evil motives, and then collectively strive towards a common goal, we can cure diseases and win world wars. Yet the climate movement hasn’t created a narrative like this to maximize our cooperative power, largely because the fossil fuel industry beat us to it.
Voter support for climate leadership is a mile wide and an inch deep — most people want it, but almost nobody votes based on it.
The greatest trick the fossil fuel industry ever played was convincing us that the climate crisis is a suicide, rather than a homicide. With slick PR campaigns and carbon footprint calculators, fossil fuel companies got us to ignore their coal-fired power plants, and instead view ourselves as the villains due to our consumer habits. In the current narrative, we, regular people have been cast as the villains.
But individuals didn’t cause the climate crisis by heating our homes or buying bottled water; rather, our society is so locked into carbon-intensive transportation systems and energy infrastructure that no amount of lifestyle changes could possibly address the climate crisis — a point brilliantly illustrated by MIT students who calculated that even if Americans lived without homes or as itinerant monks, our carbon footprints would still be twice the global average.
Our second task is to dramatically increase the number of voters who demand climate leadership. This might sound obvious, but the climate movement rarely focuses on generating new climate voters. Instead, we focus on campaigning for particular candidates, on the assumption that if we elect climate leaders in a few big elections, they will automatically supply good climate policy.
This supply-side theory of political change is faulty for a number of reasons. First, voter turnout is not static: it has fluctuated from 139 million in 2016 to 160 million in 2020, back down to an estimated 156 million in 2024. Politicians win based on an ever-changing group of specific voters in specific elections, so we must maximize the number of climate voters in those elections by both increasing turnout among climate-concerned Americans and also by persuading existing voters to view the climate crisis as a political problem, rather than a personal one.
Also, we must recognize that, even when we do elect good climate leaders, they can’t just snap their fingers and make good policy happen. They still must choose what to spend their political capital on, and it’s incredibly hard for them to justify spending it on an issue that so few voters prioritize.
The greatest trick the fossil fuel industry ever played was convincing us that the climate crisis is a suicide, rather than a homicide.
We saw this dynamic play out in 2009 — when 20% of voters listed healthcare as a top priority versus just the 4% who listed climate change — and the Obama administration, even with Democrats controlling all three branches of government, felt they had to de-prioritize passing the Waxman-Markey climate bill so they could spend their political capital on the Affordable Care Act. In short, voter demand drives policymaking, and the climate movement needs more voters.
And third, the climate movement doesn’t just need to change how we do politics, we must also change when we do politics. Climate policies are made at every level of government, and mayors want to win elections just like presidents do, which means they too are subject to the whims of their voters.
Thousands of local and state elections will occur in 2025 and 2026, many of which could yield significant climate victories if climate voters show up to vote. Moreover, these smaller elections don’t just provide opportunities for climate policy wins, they can also help build a bloc of consistent, habitual climate voters who will no longer need billion-dollar presidential campaigns to convince them to vote.
Our crash course begins now. The climate crisis has arrived — moving infinitely faster than our politics — and if the climate movement doesn’t radically alter how and when we campaign, we may not accrue enough political power to save ourselves.
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