The writers on my team have a rule. Whenever they interview a source—whether it’s a humanitarian responder, an expert in resilient infrastructure, or our CEO—they always ask one question before the discussion ends: What gives you hope?
This question can be jarring in a conversation about social inequity, pandemics, and planetary tipping points. But the responses should come as no surprise. These are people who’ve built their lives and careers around taking action; action that they genuinely believe is worth taking. They’re not driven by fear, but by hope.
This focus on hope has become our hallmark. Fear grabs attention and conveys urgency, certainly, but stories of progress, resilience, and action are more effective at inspiring change than stories of doom and despair.
The science of behaviour change supports this. Research consistently shows that while fear can momentarily shock people into awareness, it often triggers defensive responses—denial, apathy, or a sense of helplessness. For example, a 2021 study in ‘Nature Climate Change’ found that messages framing climate change as an insurmountable crisis led to feelings of fatalism, reducing the likelihood of new behaviours.
Hope, on the other hand, is empowering. It builds agency, inviting people to envision themselves as part of the solution. When individuals see a pathway to impact—whether by adopting sustainable practices, voting for climate-friendly policies, or joining collective action—they’re more likely to engage and sustain that engagement over time.
Consider the campaigns that have successfully shifted attitudes and behaviours around renewable energy. Stories of innovation, resilience, and progress have driven a groundswell of support for wind and solar power. Communities celebrating milestones—such as achieving 100% renewable energy—spark curiosity and inspire replication.
These narratives remind us that our battles are winnable, provided we all play a role.
This approach is not about sugar-coating reality. Positive messaging must acknowledge the gravity of the challenges while emphasising tangible steps forward. The Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC), for instance, has made a deliberate shift in its communications to highlight solutions alongside the risks. Rather than leaving people overwhelmed by catastrophic predictions, the IPCC’s newer reports emphasise achievable targets, such as halving global emissions by 2030.
At Palladium, we’ve seen firsthand how hope-driven communications can catalyse change. In one of our recent projects, aimed at scaling sustainable agricultural practices in low-income countries, we found that emphasising local success stories—farmers increasing yields while restoring ecosystems—encouraged others to adopt these practices far more effectively than warnings about land degradation alone. By showing what’s possible, we transformed scepticism into participation.
There is also an ethical dimension to this approach. Fear-based messaging targets vulnerabilities, exacerbating anxiety, especially among young people who already bear the psychological weight of an uncertain future. Offering hope is an act of responsibility: it respects people’s need for mental resilience while inviting them to contribute to solutions.
As communicators, our words matter. We have the power to shape not just how people understand a crisis, but how they respond to it. By framing climate change and other global threats as opportunities for innovation, collaboration, and growth, we can tap into humanity’s innate capacity for hope and ingenuity.
Fear may get us to pay attention, but hope gets us to act. Let’s choose hope—not because it’s easy, but because it’s more likely to work.
For more, contact info@thepalladiumgroup.com.