I take my beliefs seriously; so do you. So do the people we disagree with.
Six years ago I received an email from a young woman in Mississippi. She apologized for reaching out, but had read my op-ed in the Guardian about the American South and Climate Change.
Pink trashcan in Biloxi, Mississippi, 2019
I want you to help me speak to my conservative parents about climate change, she said. She told me several of her friends were looking for guidance and we arranged a call. These young people knew the science and the stakes for their future, but they couldn’t break through their parents’ conservative ideology. They felt shut down by the people they loved most, and were afraid to push the conversation forward.
This is, mind you, six years before medicines would be over-heating in the mail due to extreme heat and before Canada’s boreal forests were burning so often they lacked time to regrow. Carbon dioxide in the earth’s atmosphere hit a new record in May 2024, and temperatures in some cities were up 20-30 degrees in June. We still have 123 climate change deniers in our current Congress who have received $52,071,133 in lifetime campaign contributions from the fossil fuel industry. This is beyond unsustainable - and every day I wake up and think: how do we get more people to care? How do we change more minds?
A waitress from Joanie’s Crab Shack in the Everglades, FL, who did not believe in climate change or want to talk about it, but who made me a very nice sandwich, January 2019
I have some experience with engaging with people of different beliefs, as most progressive southerners do. In my capacity as a journalist and as a human, I’ve encountered conversations which were full of grace, and some which made me sick and furious.
I once canoed 8 miles of a flooded Mississippi River outside of Natchez with someone who didn’t believe explicitly in climate change, but who was kind and willing to talk about the flooding at hand. We didn’t agree on all points, but we observed the flooding, and its impact on ecosystems and people. This person felt like he wanted to think about the issue more; he was respectful of my beliefs. I’d like to think we had some mutual influence on one another - he with his firsthand knowledge of the river, me advocating for the larger climate picture.
Canoeing the Mississippi at flood stage, January 2019
For the last 6 years I’ve helped scientists, NGOs, and lawyers create accessible stories to shape policy and public opinion, and spoken with fishers and hunters on our shared concerns for environmental health. I’ve come to believe we’re leaving serious environmental progress on the table because we no longer talk to one another about our shared interests.
Ideology can be a savage gatekeeper. Deep down, we want to stay ideologically safe. We don’t want to be wrong or disrupted or admit that we may have caused harm with our beliefs, votes, or actions. Disagreement feels personal, sometimes a matter of life, death, or dignity. No one wants to believe they aren’t standing on moral high ground, me included.
But - disagreement is a fundamental ingredient in a functioning democracy. Stanford professor Dan Edelstein says: “One of the main goals of the citizenship class is to normalize the fact that people don’t always agree, and to highlight why that’s so invaluable. In fact, disagreement is a feature, not a bug of democracy.” He advocates for more active deliberation in society. (I find deliberation a better alternative to Civil War, personally).
View from a houseboat outside of New Orleans, early morning, 2019
Our current polarization has a steep cost.
The Carnegie Endowment for International Peace makes these points in a recent paper about the perception of intense polarization in American culture:
1 - American voters are less ideologically polarized than they think they are, and that misperception is greatest for the most politically engaged people.
2 - American politicians are highly ideologically polarized. In other words, they believe in and vote for different sets of policies, with little overlap. This trend has grown in a steady, unpunctuated manner for decades.
3 - Even though Americans are not as ideologically polarized as they believe themselves to be, they are emotionally polarized (known as “affective polarization”). In other words, they do not like members of the other party.
What I see in this research: there’s more that we agree upon than we are able and willing to admit (clean water, for example). Our political party culture makes collaboration and conversation taboo, and we end up distrusting, if not hating, others. I’ve felt this myself, if I’m honest. What I also see here: there are minds we can change.
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It’s hard to change our minds, particularly in public (in 2015 the NYT noted that politicians began using the word “evolving” instead of “changing their minds” because the cost was so steep). Research shows that people stick with what they know because of laziness and social cost.
Growing up in evangelical communities I’ve long been wary of evangelizing of any sort. I felt nothing short of white hot rage when classmates used to put Bibles on my desk in South Carolina. It feels impolite and dangerous to step into a conversation about beliefs.
Mississippi roadside, 2019
But - if we’re going to make shifts toward a more compassionate, just, and science-informed society, we’re going to have to change some hearts and minds.
I know changing minds is hard, but I also know that it is possible. I have changed my own mind about many core issues in the arc of my life. When I was younger and mired in small town red state culture, I didn’t truly understand how my core beliefs mapped to policy and party. I needed someone to be kind and clear with me. I needed repeated exposure to new ideas. I needed a welcoming path.
Here’s what I know about the work of changing minds: we can’t just lob explosives from our bunkers and feel intellectually smug and expect change. We have to engage in order to change outcomes - and for those of you who want to engage in this work, I’d like to share what I know.
This kind of engagement is undeniably complex. It feels complicated - if not impossible - to de-personalize a conversation on beliefs and affiliations which feel entirely personal.
The following ideas are not must-dos. These are considerations and tips from me and from my friends, who are lawyers, NGO professionals, academics, parents, artists:
1 - Don’t focus your energy on rabid ideologues. People without sense or compassion are not a good use of your time and emotional energy. Focus on the disaffiliated, the moderates, the uncertain folks, those who may belong to a different belief system but are open-minded, those who are questioning their radicalization or what they were brought up to believe.
2 - Arrive to the conversation with equanimity and calm. No reasonable person responds to angry and defensive Facebook Manifesto Energy. You know your values. Be the sane person in the room. As my friend Caleb Dean says in his list below - be an ambassador for your position. Also, research shows that people become more resistant to ideas if they feel like they are in an unpleasant situation.
3 - Plan the conversation beforehand - stay away from sweeping, high level indictments, accusation, and party spin. Focus on a particular topic (climate change, a woman’s right to choose), come with strong evidence-based points, and anticipate pushback with prepared counterpoints.
4 - Settle into curiosity - Ask your conversation partner: why do you feel this way? What led you to believe this? Where did you get your data from? See what you can uncover.
I like what Edelstein says about this curiosity: “Even if what the person across the table is saying to you seems completely orthogonal to everything you believe, it can still be interesting to figure out, why do some people seem to be so persuaded by a completely different worldview than yours? It’s important to not write people off as stupid or inferior, which can happen when we get heated and we’re responding more based on an emotional reaction than a reflective one.”
5 - Practice understanding - See if you can restate your conversation partner’s beliefs. “So if I have this right, you believe that X.” Feeling understood often lowers the temperature of a disagreement, and allows you to prepare a counterpoint.
6 - Express yourself using language that promotes mutual respect and understanding. One of my former students Olivia - who spoke with fur trappers in Maine about climate change - says in her experience, language matters most. “People understand each other but lack vocabulary or use a different vocabulary when speaking about the same issues.” Accessible language promotes understanding and helps reduce perceived elitism in the room. Try to leave out jargon. Be maximally human.
7 - Offer one key point in many formats: Howard Gardner wrote a book about the science behind changing minds. One of his major insights is that we have to share a point in several formats to break through - using what he calls representational re-descriptions. Gardner says that representational re-descriptions “may include engaging stories, startling numerical information, graphic depictions such as charts or cartoons, humor, demonstrations and simulations, vivid descriptions of enticing or disturbing scenarios, and, most important, embodying the message in your own behavior.”
8 - Braid emotional stories with rational stories. You can give people percentage points and historical data, but stories with an emotional core change hearts and minds. This is a chance to share your own stories - what experiences led you to your beliefs? Or - what are the stakes? Why does this issue matter today, and what current world events unfolding does it relate to?
9 - Be okay with not “winning” - you may not convert someone to your way of thinking in that moment, but you might plant a seed. You could suggest resources for further reading. It’s okay to agitate a deeply held belief, to complicate it, to shift someone from believing to questioning. I’ve heard it takes being exposed to an idea roughly 3 times for someone to begin to open up to it.
10 - Understand that not all priorities are shared - My sister recently made the insightful point that in her circles, it’s not always about disagreeing - sometimes it’s about understanding what’s of primary importance to a particular person. She begins a lot of her conversations by establishing what common ground exists between her and the person she’s speaking with.
11 - Choose a smart channel for your message. If a sit-down conversation isn’t possible, consider social media and op-eds, which research shows can have a 20% efficacy rate in changing minds.
12 - If possible, end the conversation on a note of inspiration and motivation. Adam Grant suggests that “Instead of trying to force other people to change, you’re better off helping them find their own intrinsic motivation to change.” Grant calls this process “motivational interviewing.” By asking open-ended questions and listening deeply — you are essentially “holding up a mirror so they can see their own thoughts more clearly.” Grant suggests if your conversation partner expresses a desire to change, you can guide them toward a plan.
13 - Consider (mindfully) grabbing the mic. I’ve often heard that environmentalists are too reticent and polite in town meetings and conversations. The truth is, on environmental degradation, we’re out of margins, out of runway. So, while I believe in kind conversation, I also believe in speaking up for what you believe in. If you need an inspiring pep talk to do this - try Diane Wilson’s Goldman Environmental Prize acceptance speech. “Sometimes the home needs defending, the line needs drawing.”
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I spoke with several people prior to putting this list together. I heard from Caleb Dean, a writer who has worked in conservation and conflict resolution. He told me that “engaging with those we disagree with is something I've long held as critically important.”
I’m posting some of his thoughts below, because I think they’re beautiful as stated. Caleb writes:
When I worked in conflict resolution and conservation in rural communities throughout the interior west, this was our approach. The organization I worked for was started during the Timber Wars to act as a bridge between the logging industry and environmentalists. Our approach was slow and somewhat simple: get people in a room together, ideally over food, and listen. We worked (and they still do) in places like John Day County that once declared itself a "UN free zone" and hung a sign declaring it such as you drive in because they were convinced Agenda 21 was a plot for the UN to take their land. But within each of these communities were people who, if given the time and space, would share how they felt, what they thought, listen, and ask questions.
Here's how Caleb summarizes his approach to persuasive conversation:
Decide that engaging is truly the only way to avoid the worst possible outcomes.
Think of yourself as an ambassador for your community and model the best of what you represent.
Approach every conversation with a posture of understanding vs needing to be right.
Ask questions and listen, really listen, keep listening. If you only ask questions, great! They'll remember that you were curious and listened.
Allow for more time and space than you think you'll need.
Don't give up.
Talk in person and not online (if possible).
Don't let cynicism in.
I’ll be offering a free op-ed writing workshop on September 17th at noon (see below). Even if you don’t consider yourself a writer, let’s try to get some short environmental op-eds in local papers before the election. (If you enter your email here, I’ll send you the zoom link and follow-up materials you can use). Please share widely - anyone is welcome at this session, including students.
To the cycle of effort and rest - and modeling the best of what we represent,
xo
MMB
PS - new workbook & recorded lecture on Writing the Sacred coming for paid subscribers (of any amount) later this month!
One reality that tends to go unnoticed is that there are many, many folks out there (because our economy is so dependent upon fossil fuels and fossil fuel infrastructure) who have felt victimized, at one time or another, by unnuanced environmental messaging that resorts to this sort of blanket demonization of how they make a living. To expect these folks to then embrace anything that has to do with "going green" is like asking them to hug their bully. As someone who works to advance the decarbonization of existing fossil fuels infrastructure (which preserves the existing workforce), I come across this dynamic regularly. It's stubbornly pervasive - oftentimes multigenerational - and I've had to develop my own creative strategies to subvert it. This is all to say that to change someone else's perspective, you often first have to change your own. 🤝
Just discovered your writing today, and I so appreciate this post. Much of my work involves talking with people of faith and conscience about climate change, and this is a terrific summary of what I've found to be true. Two immediate thoughts: first, I'd strike "If possible" from #12. Hope is a powerful motivator, far more than statistics, doom-and-gloom stories, or fear-based language. It's critical, not optional, for our conversations. I think that hearing the stories of the places where we've made progress or the people who have made an impact helps people to see that they truly are part of the solution. Second, being clear about language can help, particularly for politicized terminology. For example, I tend to use "climate disruption" or "climate crisis" rather than "climate change," and instead of "climate anxiety" I more often say "eco-anxiety," since that encompasses the many environmental disruptions one might feel anxious about. Thanks for this helpful list - I'll definitely be adding this to a reading list I'll be using when I talk with congregational leaders and members.