FLIRTING WITH CLIMATE COMMUNICATION

 

Every now and then, a climate scientist wakes up with a dangerous level of confidence.

The assumption is that once the science is clear, communicating it should be straightforward. Scientists may believe that presenting data, explaining findings, or publishing reports is enough to make people understand climate change and act on it.

After all, they have just completed a 120-page technical report on climate modelling. They have defended a PhD with the calm composure of a seasoned gladiator. They have run simulations predicting rainfall patterns in 2050 with the precision of a Swiss watch.

Surely tweeting, designing a poster, or addressing the public should be child’s play. So they roll up their sleeves and decide to handle the communication themselves.But communication does not work that way. What follows is usually disastrous!

In one instance, as I observe a scientist take over communication, it was quite an interesting scene. The fonts clashed like two goats fighting over cassava peels. The colours quarreled like rival political parties during election season. The message read like a conference abstract that mistakenly wandered into a village durbar. Somewhere in the corner sits a stretched logo looking like it survived a flood and was still recovering. The design gasped quietly for oxygen. But unfortunately he saw nothing wrong with it.

For decades, I have worked at the intersection of climate science and communication, and I have watched brilliant scientists, people capable of explaining atmospheric circulation and carbon fluxes with breathtaking clarity, unintentionally sabotage their own impact by treating communication as an afterthought.

Hey! communication is not decoration. Communication is strategy.

Climate science does not change the world simply because it exists. It changes the world when people understand it, trust it, and act on it. The journey from data to decision is not automatic. It requires translation. It requires narrative. It requires knowing who the audience is and how they listen.

This is where communication professionals enter the conversation.

A good communicator does not dilute science. We interpret it. We translate it. We turn dense knowledge into living meaning. We know that a farmer in Tamale, a policymaker in Accra, and a schoolchild in Wa do not hear climate change in the same way.

Science speaks in precision. Communication speaks in connection, and that difference matters.

One reason climate change still circulates comfortably within conferences and policy corridors is not because the science is weak. It is because the communication often is. Reports are written for peers rather than people. Graphs speak to specialists rather than citizens. Messages travel through channels that never reach the communities whose crops are failing or whose coastlines are disappearing.

Meanwhile, public conversation about climate is often shaped by those who communicate better, not those who know better.

That should worry scientists. Because if the science cannot travel beyond academic journals, it cannot move societies.

Communication, therefore, is not a side hustle. It is a profession. It is why organisations invest in communication strategies, brand guidelines, storytelling techniques, and audience research. A well-crafted message can shift public understanding faster than a thousand PowerPoint slides filled with graphs.

Yet many scientists still believe communication is simply the art of “simplifying” their work. So they produce their own posters. 
They stretch institutional logos like rubber bands. They mix brand colours like experimental paint. They design slides so dense with text that geologists might classify them as sedimentary formations.

Then they present proudly and wonder why the audience looks confused. Let me say this gently but firmly. Climate scientists are experts in science. Communication professionals are experts in communication. Both crafts require discipline, training, and experience.

Just as I would never attempt to model atmospheric carbon cycles after a weekend of reading journal articles, scientists should resist the temptation to improvise communication strategy simply because PowerPoint exists.

This is not a turf war. It is an invitation. Climate change is too serious for disciplinary ego. Scientists and communicators must work together. When they do, something powerful happens. Evidence meets narrative. Data meets imagination. Precision meets persuasion.

So to my friends in the climate science community, allow me one final appeal from a communicator who deeply respects your work.

Honour communication as a craft. Work with communicators. Let them help you translate your science for the audiences that matter.

Because the world does not only need climate science. It needs climate science that people can hear, remember, and act upon.