Future Visions: Fictionalising Climate Change with the Ministry of the Future

Every so often you read a book that changes how you see the world. The Ministry of the Future by Kim Stanley Robinson is one of those books.

Author of a score of sci-fi (or cli-fi) novels — many with a climate bent, where scientists and policy makers are often the unlikely heroes — this 2020 novel has been a hit during the World Economic Forum meetings at Davos in Switzerland which happen every year.

A Barack Obama TOP PICK

Barack Obama's tweet on his 2020 list of favorite books, including The Ministry of the Future
Barack Obama tweeted his favorite books of the year, which included The Ministry for the Future

 It seems the anyone who knows anything about climate knows about this book, so clearly I’m a bit slow off the mark. Late last year, two colleagues asked simply if I had read ‘The Ministry…’ Then I read a full-page interview with Robinson in the Financial Times

Described as a cult author, his ‘speculative fiction can offer real-life solutions to the climate crisis.’

More than that,  ‘Robinson has become a sounding board for politicians, economists and climate negotiators eager for his take on fringe ideas’. These include things like pumping water under glaciers to stop them melting or “‘carbon quantitative easing’ whereby central banks would pay the worst polluters to stop.’

Whooaaaggh. A fiction author influencing global policy?

Now, this piqued my interest. 

I’ve always loved novels. Then March 2020 happened. The world fell off a cliff and fiction seemed pointless… the world around me was more weird than any novel I could lay my hand on. 

Since then I’ve only been able to finish one slim novel… that is until I started Ministry of the Future. I devoured it. Now I’m reading Robinson’s backlist.  (He’s my official ‘author crush’.) 

As an author myself (I’ve written fiction and non-fiction), it’s fascinating to read his earlier work because I can see all the preparation that had to happen in his less good early novels in order to make this latest one sooooo good. You can see that it’s a book that has been 25+ years in the making. 

caring for the next generations

In brief, the book, spanning multiple continents and numerous points of view, is about the existential threat posed by the climate crisis. 

At the heart is the eponymous Ministry for the Future, an international organisation whose job is to represent the interests of future generations in the face of increasing environmental devastation. It is set in the current and near future, so it feels like you are reading a slice of reality… except it’s told at a slant. 

Despite the topic, Robinson writes with humour… teasing out the idea that ‘it’s easier to imagine the end of the world than the end of capitalism.’

Cover of Kim Stanley Robinson's The Ministry for the Future book
Cover of Kim Stanley Robinson's The Ministry for the Future

How characters bring the climate crisis to life

His characters are sharply drawn and offbeat: a doctor fleeing a war zone, a migrant holed inside a refugee camp for years, a young man enslaved on a fishing trawler who’s rescued by masked eco-terrorists.  

There are really only two characters you inhabit deeply in the story but it’s the fact that he writes from so many points of view that leaves you with a dizzying global perspective. It’s a whole-of-systems novel (very regenerative), where you experience life from all perspectives, including that of an atom.

Popularising scary scientific concepts

Image designed by W. Larry Kenney from Earth Sky journal.
Image designed by W. Larry Kenney from Earth Sky journal.

But it’s the scientific concept of ‘wet bulb temperature’ which Robinson describes in such a terrifying and realistic way that has caught the imagination. Previously buried in a 2010 scientific paper, this true-life phenomena happens when air temperatures rise at the same time as humidity, making it difficult and then impossible for people to sweat. 

If humans can’t sweat, we die. 

While this scientific concept was known, it was only through Robinson’s vivid portrayal of a mass Indian heatwave that policymakers understood the implications of this as a result of rising global temperatures. 

As the Financial Times notes, ‘Ministry is like the first mass-market, general cultural publication of this idea that is quite obvious.’ (Likely, too, that Australian business magnate Andrew ‘Twiggy’ Forrest knows of this concept. Last September he said, ‘It’s business which is causing global warming…  it’s business which is responsible for lethal humidity.’)

If it all sounds a bit bleak … stay with it.

The Ministry of the Future is also incredibly hopeful — even though there is hell to go through to get us there. Ultimately the story is about the power of human ingenuity, courage, and willpower to reimagine a much better, fairer, world and a fundamental reimagining of society and its values.

3 WAYS fiction can help us imagine a better world

  1. Humans are sensory beings. We understand the world through sight, touch, sound, smell and taste. When we read great fiction we are able to experience other people’s lives, as if they were our own. This creates real empathy. We genuinely care about characters and what happens to them.
  2. Fiction is great at world-building. Especially genres like speculative fiction, where authors spend a lot of time creating the world of their characters — giving the reader that sense of visceral immersion.
  3.  ‘Near future fiction’ plays with your sense of reality. The novel starts in 2025 when ‘the big heat wave strikes India’. And yet as I was reading it, some of the weather events described in the novel — atmospheric rivers for example — were on the nightly news. In February 2024, millions of Californians were under flood alerts amid warnings of excessive rainfall as ‘a powerful atmospheric river sat over Southern California’.

Robinson does a good job in mixing dollops of scientific information (or exposition as it’s known in novel-writing) with a plot that carries you forward. You need to stay with it and don’t be put off by the size. It’s worth it… It’s a book that I can feel in my bones. There aren’t many like that. 

But I am glad, after my own fiction drought, this one brought rain… and immense hope. There’s power in imagination that might just save us all. 

Hi, I’m Claire. Through my business Wordstruck we help companies bring their sustainability strategy to life. As the Founder of Regenerative Storytelling, we’re helping leaders do more for their people, their community and the planet. I publish regular content about storytelling, regenerative leadership and reframing how to address our rapidly heating world. To see more of my content, please sign up – and join the conversation by sharing a comment below.

Can ice cream change the world? Really?!

GIVING OUR WORK MEANING

Here’s what I’ve learned recently about 3 brands doing really cool things: for the planet, for their community and for themselves. It’s got me thinking about how Wordstruck can speak up louder about what we do.

First up, Ben and Jerry’s. This is a company who’ve shouted loud and long for the causes they support, the rainforests they save and how making the ‘world a better place gives their work meaning.’ That’s what we all want, right?

My niece Imogen Scobie, heard first hand what their European division is doing at a recent event in Bristol, ‘Why Business Need to Integrate a More Activist Mindset’, hosted by Enviral, an environmental and social communication agency. Alongside Ben & Jerry was Rory Atton, founder of Dewerstone, an outdoor clothing brand.

Amplifying the voices of others

Kerry Thorpe, Ben & Jerry's, speaking at the Enviral event in November

Ben & Jerry’s social mission is split between their impact, for example, choosing fair trade cocoa, and their influence. Both take time, said Kerry Thorpe, Head of Communications for Europe at Ben and Jerry’s. ‘You have to do it all year round. Not hop on a trend when it’s cool.’

This means doing it because you want to, not because you want your brand to look like it cares. It needs to ACTUALLY care 😉

Ben & Jerry's Activism Managers: how to influence

Influence is all about how you bring customers on board. At Ben & Jerry’s they have specific ‘activism managers’ whose role is to bring to life their progressive values through a multi-year strategy. (A new job title to me.) 

Activism managers will partner with NGOs or other grassroots groups. In the UK one of their focus areas is supporting refugees to resettle safely in Europe and they’ve teamed up with the International Rescue Committee. Globally their focus is more broadly on climate justice; plus lots of other causes.

Ben & Jerry's To Do List - for the British Home Secretary 😉

 

 

In addition to their specific ‘activism managers’, the company will also use their resources – and their talent (like their marketing team) to work on campaigns and social impact projects. You can see how they’ve done that here so well: in this mocked-up To Do List for the British Home Secretary shared on X (formerly Twitter). A brilliant way to use humour to make a point.

Finding your tipping point

Dewerstone - Feed the Families campaign, Indonesia

Rory Atton, founder of Dewerstone (and the other speaker at the Bristol event), gave a different perspective on how brand activism works – especially for smaller companies.

He described how you reach a ‘tipping point, when you cannot walk past something anymore and not do anything about it.’ (Yup, know that one! I call it a shift moment.) 

Currently their outdoor lifestyle brand supports a number of causes, including the Save Our Rivers movement in the UK.

But it was during the pandemic that they really swung into action. Many years before Rory had been to the Gili Islands in Indonesia. In 2020, they were about to open a Dewerstone store on Gili Trawangan. With no tourists, the island communities were going hnungry. ‘I got a phone call saying people are starving,’ said Rory. 

Dewerstone turned their store into a food parcel distribution hub and fed 10,000 people over 6 months. How? By selling t-shirts for £25 a pop and giving all the profits to their own ‘Feed the Families Campaign.’ 

Now the company is a member of 1% for the Planet. This means they give a minimum of 1% of total sales to environmental non-profit organisations like Save Our Rivers, Gili Eco Trust & Eden Reforestation.

Changing the way we shop

Reselfridges - Worn Again - the Edit

For the past three years Wordstruck has been working with Selfridges in the UK, supporting them with their strategic storytelling and internal messaging. They are a great example of a business who pioneered retail activism back in 2011 with Project Ocean and was one of the first department stores to ban fur. Over time this has evolved into Project Earth and Reselfridges (their eco-conscious range of pre-loved luxury items). 

A global brand like Selfridges can – and does – use its influence to help change minds. When Let’s Change the Way We Shop appeared in massive letters on the side of their Oxford Street stores, the media and the public took notice. Today they keep evolving their offer, experimenting with new ways of doing circular, repair and refill, as well as supporting lots of initiatives behind the scenes. 

So… can ice cream change the world? I reckon. Brand activism can move the dial.

Here are 3 sprinkles to takeaway…

  1. Don’t wait til you’re perfect before you act. Kerry Thorpe describes how it’s scary before they launch a campaign because they know that not all their audience will love it. In fact, some will hate it. ‘But you need to go ahead to stay true to your values.’   
  2. Use your skills to help people in whichever way makes most sense, says Rory Atton. ‘This could be cash, resources, time, space…’ or in their case, printing t-shirts. And their company’s mantra: ‘If you love it, fight for it.’
  3. Last word from Kerry. ‘Do 10 things. Talk about two. Don’t just do things because you can talk about them.’ 

Hi, I’m Claire. Through my business Wordstruck we help companies bring their sustainability strategy to life. As the Founder of Regenerative Storytelling, we’re helping leaders do more for their people, their community and the planet. I publish regular content about storytelling, regenerative leadership and reframing how to address our rapidly heating world. To see more of my content, please sign up – and join the conversation by sharing a comment below.

Ten tips on how to write about sustainability

Renewable Energy Systems

What is the difference between a sustainable vs a regenerative approach?

In a nutshell, sustainability tends to focus on external actions and achieving targets. In business it is measured by metrics. 

Nicky Sparshott, CEO of Unilever ANZ

 

‘If we’re just sustainable, the risk is we’re standing still,’ says Nicky Sparshott, CEO of Unilever ANZ when I interviewed her for my book.

How do we make sure that we are constantly renewing, rejuvenating, refreshing and learning with new information – so that we are not just doing no harm?’

In contrast, being regenerative is a way of seeing the world – and often requires inner work. This is why it takes longer but is more likely to lead to lasting behavioural change.

It’s helpful to think of sustainability on a knowledge spectrum, where we are evolving from sustainable towards regenerative actions.

how to write about sustainability that cuts through.

  1. Always think about your audience first. Understand where your audience is really at… not where you want them to be.
  2. Think about where your audience sits on the ‘sustainability spectrum’. If you’re a sustainability expert, you are likely to be much further along. This means adjusting your messaging – and often your expectations.
  3. Be clear where you want to take people on the journey. Are you educating your audience? This requires clear, precise information. Are you wanting to present a business case on how sustainability is good for the bottom line? Use statistics.
  4. Harness stories to get people to care. We know that throwing a whole load of facts and figures at people doesn’t inspire action. Instead, stories are a way to draw people into a subject that can feel very abstract. (I’ll be doing a deep dive on Stories for Sustainability in an upcoming post.)

'The youth climate movement was a generational push for change that changed communication,' says Alex McIntosh, UK-based Creative Director at Create Sustain.

5. Find a moment that is relatable to your audience. Remember when Greta Thunberg first spoke at the World Economic Forum in Davos in January 2019? That was a galvanising moment that triggered a worldwide movement.

Rebecca Huntley's How to Talk About Climate Change in a Way That Makes a Differenc

 

 

Australian social researcher and author, Rebecca Huntley, described how she flicked on the television and saw, ‘Hundreds of Australian teenagers skipping school… and protesting in the streets about climate change… It was, at that moment as if those teenagers, their signs both funny and grave, were speaking to me.’ (From How to Talk About Climate Change in a Way That Makes a Difference.)

6. Paint a clear visual of the ‘flag on the hill’. It’s easier with a technical subject like sustainability to get lost in the weeds. How are you trying to motivate your audience? What vision are you presenting? Anchor your communication towards that outcome.

7. Avoid being abstract. Climate change and sustainability can seem far away in space and time: think of Antarctic ice melting or net zero targets by 2050.We are more likely to listen if we think that sustainability matters to our everyday lives. 

8. Address ‘communication blockers’. Think ahead and be ready to address negative views on sustainability. It’s too expensive to change. We have other priorities (I hear this ALL the time with my clients.) There’s a cost of living crisis. Rather than argue against entrenched views, provide solutions to people’s genuine concerns and offer a roadmap to change.

A communication shift from information to involvement.

‘It’s not about trying to get people to understand that there’s a problem. It’s actually, how do you translate that into behaviour change. That involves thinking quite carefully about the triggers and levers that you can use to get people to act differently,’ says Alex McIntosh.

9. Find ways for your communication to change behaviour. This needs actionable steps. It needs people to care enough to do something differently. Often we need to address social norms. I.e. research consistently shows that if your neighbour puts solar panels on their roof, you are more likely to consider it. That is much more influential than just reading about how solar power can reduce your carbon footprint. As sustainability communicator your job is to find similar examples that are within the circle of influence of your audience.

10. Avoid being the expert: be the guide. So far we’ve covered content tips. But how you deliver this information: your tone of voice, the way you talk to your audience is also important. This loops back to point (1)… to meet people where they are at rather than talk down to them. Stay curious and you’ll be amazed at how much more likely your message is to land.

In writing this, I realise how I could have made this 20 or 30 tips! If you want to know more, tell me. What do you find most tricky in communicating sustainability? What would help you?

Hi, I’m Claire. Through my business Wordstruck we help companies bring their sustainability strategy to life. As the Founder of Regenerative Storytelling, we’re helping leaders do more for their people, their community and the planet. I publish regular content about storytelling, regenerative leadership and reframing how to address our rapidly heating world. To see more of my content, please sign up – and join the conversation by sharing a comment below.

Bugging Me

Orchid cuckoo bee from Levon Bliss Microsculpture. Beautiful green and blue colours.

Have you ever imagined being an insect? Like, really imagined. 

When we told friends we were going to Scotland, the first thing they said: don’t get midged. Summer on the west coast is notorious for black swarms of these microscopic biting flies. 

For the first week in August, no problem. My husband Aden and I kept the windows open. One evening, there was a brief rain shower, then a burst of sun. Perfect breeding weather. That night there were, literally, thousands of midges in the bedroom, on the wall, on the ceiling, on the lights. 

I shrieked. Ran around like a crazy person, arms flapping. Both of us desperately Googling for solutions. 

Bowls of apple cider vinegar with washing up liquid? Diffuser with lavender? Nothing worked. Luckily we’d kept the bedroom door shut so they were confined. The next two nights we camped in the lounge and Aden vacuumed the room enough times to get rid of them, until finally, they were gone.

The role of insects from a regenerative perspective

Worldwide insect populations are declining faster than scientists can identify them. We’re losing our pollinators (like bees) at an alarming rate. In the last three decades, insects have declined up to 75% in Europe. What purpose, we wondered, do midges have within our ecosystem? 

Surely, like so many insects, they are food for other species (birds, marsupials, snakes). Without insects as pollinators, says Prof Simon Potts from the University of Reading, our food supplies and quality are in peril. 

So, how can we care that bit more about these tiny creatures? (Clearly, I failed on the midge front.) They are integral to our biodiversity.

Three ways to care (regeneratively) for our critters.

Tortoise beetle microsculpture taken by Levon Biss. It has a intricate reddish brown pattern on its rectangular body.
Tortoise beetle, Platypria melli (Coleoptera, Chrysomelidae), China © Levon Biss.
Marion flightless moth microsculpture by Levin Biss. Long legs, and pincers on a brown and greyish body.
Marion flightless moth, Pringleophaga marioni (Lepidoptera, Tineidae), Marion Island, South Africa © Levon Biss.

1. See insects in a new light

Photographer Levon Biss has made an art form out of insects (see photos above). In collaboration with the Oxford University Museum of Natural History, his work marries creative innovation with science. I happened to see a tiny exhibition ‘Microsculpture’ of his massively blown-up, carefully-lit photos that capture the extraordinary form, colour and evolutionary detail of insects.

Each image is created from around 8,000 individual photographs, taking around three weeks to shoot and retouch. The result is a series of photos of insect specimens (they are from the museum collection and each is pinned ‘on an adapted microscope stage’) that change how you see them. 

His photos don’t make them look any less weird or strange. But the detail of the Tortoise Beetle, for example, with its scaly back and spiky spines is like a Genghis Khan of the insect world. I see it in a new light.

2. Name insects in your garden or park

My sister posted the picture below of a caterpillar on our WhatsApp ’virtual gardening’ chat. Anyone know the name? My other sister looked it up. 

Start with butterflies. They’re pretty. Try to name every new butterfly you see. You’ll be amazed at how you relate differently to them.

Naming helps us identify — and get closer — to our more-than-human world.

A picture taken by Claire's sister Jane from a book of insects. It shows sixteen species of caterpillars.
Picture taken by Claire's sister Sarah. It shows a close up of a yellow and brown fluffy caterpillar resting on bright green leaves.
Picture taken by Claire's sister Sarah.

3. House insects wherever you can

I’ve talked about rewilding in this post. Letting weeds grow and encouraging insect-loving plants in your garden all helps. Or, if there’s a patch of grass on the pavement, plant wild flowers. Central London have taken this one step further. In Regent’s Place there are now ‘Bug Hotels’ (see below). These encourage ladybirds, butterflies and beetles to ‘thrive on campus’.

A sad irony, though. Across the road are a row of tents where homeless people live. (The council is providing for bugs not people… obv, not a regenerative approach.)

A sign displaying information on a 'bug hotel' in Regents Place. It explains the role of insects and their importance for biodiversity.
On display in Regent's Place Plaza.
A picture showing a hexagonal wooden structure under a tree to help attract insects. Highlighting the important role of insects.
'Bug Hotel' in Regent's Place Plaza.

Insects face an existential crisis

However, there’s another framing for this. Aden commented on it when he read the blog. He’s First Nations, a Gumbaynggirr man from the east coast of Australia. He tends to see how everything is interrelated — he’s a pattern thinker. ‘While we’re facing a cost of living and a housing crisis,’ he commented. ’For insects, ”cost of living” has a whole new meaning: it’s existence itself.’

Something to ponder on, next time I go to swat a mossie.

What about you? Can you cope with the crawly, jumpy, flighty ones? If you can’t, can you try? 

Hi, I’m Claire. Through my business Wordstruck we help companies bring their sustainability strategy to life. As the Founder of Regenerative Storytelling, we’re helping leaders do more for their people, their community and the planet. I publish regular content about storytelling, regenerative leadership and reframing how to address our rapidly heating world. To see more of my content, please sign up – and join the conversation by sharing a comment below.

Doing community regeneratively

A photo taken by Aden shows the regenerative community of Tarbert - a row of pink, blue and white houses reflected in the water of the harbour, and green hills in the background.

Community — what does it look like for you? It’s something that I keep thinking about as we travel and stay in different places. What sort of community/communities do I want to be part of? To invest emotionally. To cheer on. To rely upon. 

Island communities buying land together (rural Scotland). Knitting groups and wellbeing walks in the city (central London). Wild swimming Wednesdays (Sheffield). In-person. Online. WhatsApp groups. There are many ways to do community. 

 Here are three examples that I’ve glimpsed upon recently. Each has regenerative aspects.

Community-owned castle: Inner Hebrides of western Scotland

We were staying near a small pretty harbour town called Tarbert (see above photo). It’s got a ruined castle: not unusual in this part of the world! The signage proudly describes how Tarbert Castle Heritage Park is ’owned by the community and entirely cared for by volunteers.’ 

They do the fun stuff: senior pupils from Tarbert Academy illustrated Medieval characters on the historical displays; and the less fun stuff: picking up litter and emptying waste bins. 

As a way to increase biodiversity of the castle ruins, the community have created a woodland and orchard, and own a flock of Hebridean sheep to keep the grass cut. They’ve partnered with a local supermarket and rely on donations to ‘achieve their sustainable maintenance plan’. 

I like the fact that the community are flipping the script on ownership and how well they’ve thought it through (including using sheep to regenerate the land). Their sense of pride is palpable. Even as a passing visitor, you sense it. 

A picture taken of Hebridean. They are used in the regenerative community of Tarbert.
Hebridean sheep. © Pinterest.

Community buy-out: Island of Gigha

Not far from Tarbert is the tiny island of Gigha (pronounced Gere, as in Richard). Scotland is notorious for absentee landlords. When the entire island came up for sale in 2001, the islanders clubbed together to buy it. 

With support from grants and loans from the Scottish government (via the National Lottery and another enterprise), they raised the millions of pounds required. From soup ‘n’ sandwich days to quiz nights and ‘sponsored rows around the island’ they made their vision a reality. According to the Gigha website, this put them ‘in the vanguard of the Scottish land reform movement.’ 

Clearly, they needed a structure and proper  governance to make it work. The Isle of Gigha Heritage Trust was formed. Its aim: to promote ‘community regeneration, employment and sustainability.’ 

A photo taken by Claire shows the regenerative community owned island Gigha - the green hilly landscape with some small houses nestled in the middle and the sea behind.
Dramatic landscape of the island Gigha.
A photo taken by Claire of a white sand beach in Gigha - the regenerative community owned island. Sunny blue sky spotted with fluffy clouds, turquoise clear water and white sand below.
A beautiful beach in Gigha.

‘The Island is part of me’

Island life might not be perfect. But this short clip gives you a flavour — watch it for the hypnotic Scottish accent. When we spent the day there (travelling via ferry), we were lucky to get a table at the renowned restaurant on the island, the Boathouse. The campsite was busy and so was the tourist trade. 

The islanders have overhauled run-down housing and the population decline has been reversed. Plus, they have a viable long-term income through their four wind turbines, selling renewable energy to the mainland grid with all profits ploughed back into the Trust. (According to their website, back in 2004, Gigha was ‘the first community-owned grid-connected windfarm in Scotland.’)

Regeneration: creating a sense of care in the community 

According to an article on the Seeds of Good Anthropocenes, not only has ‘community ownership built local self-confidence…. It’s changed the way people on Gigha relate to nature and one another.’ This speaks to the regenerative quality of care. So much easier to care about where we live if we have a vested interest in the place itself. (Another way we talk about this in regen is ‘place-sourced potential’: a bit jargon-ny, I know.)  

Green spaces and heatmaps

We left Scotland reluctantly. But now my husband Aden and I are finding our ‘London legs’, staying in Bloomsbury.  Just in the past day, I’ve seen a host of signs that point to the community initiatives here. From the Marchmont Community Centre to ‘improve the quality of life of local residents’, to farmers markets (everywhere in London these days, like in Sydney), to awareness about heatmaps. (Inevitably the less green in a city, the hotter they become. You can chart the hot-spots through heatmaps.) 

City community does things differently. In central London the garden squares create a focal point. I’ve missed Bloomsbury’s ‘tell the stories behind the trees’ event. But I’m signing up for the ‘wellbeing walk’ to increase my weekly step count. Last night our lovely 94-y-o neighbour, Betty, invited us for drinks. (Lovely, as we are only here a week!) She told us ALL about the colourful characters she’s known living here since 1976. 

Each place has certainly given me ideas on how I want to see communities thrive. 

What about you? How does community feed and nourish your life and work? Thoughts? Stories? 

Taken by Claire the image of a sign for a Farmers Market in Bloomsbury, London.
A picture taken of a sign for 'wellbeing' walks in the area of Bloomsbury.
"Not a guided tour".

Hi, I’m Claire. Through my business Wordstruck we help companies bring their sustainability strategy to life. As the Founder of Regenerative Storytelling, we’re helping leaders do more for their people, their community and the planet. I publish regular content about storytelling, regenerative leadership and reframing how to address our rapidly heating world. To see more of my content, please sign up – and join the conversation by sharing a comment below.

Why Stories About Climate Change Need a Hook

Catrina Davies reading from the start of her third book based on the recollections of Hedley Ralph Collard. Why Stories About Climate Change need a hook. She sits in a small marquee on a seat, with a guitar to the right of her.

Finding an emotional hook is the first place I start when crafting a story. Now, as I’m getting knee-deep into my next book, I’m grappling with how to do that when writing about two big, abstract topics: climate change and regeneration. 

In May, I caught up with my literary agent. She was clear: ‘You need people to care about the climate in an emotional way. Read this.’ 

She thrust a hardback book into my hands. Once upon a Raven’s Nest by Catrina Davies. It’s beautiful and sits (unopened) on my desk like a talisman. Meanwhile, I pace around, drinking too many cups of earl grey as I try to find this illusive ‘hook’.

Meeting author Catrina Davies

Last Saturday I saw Catrina Davies speak at an author event. It was pouring outside the marquee and the venue was noisy. She sat, quietly, wavy blond hair pulled back in a ponytail, and picked up a guitar at her feet. In a raspy voice, a voice that suited the wild weather of this temperamental English summer, she sang one of her own songs. My husband Aden nudged me. ‘You’ll have to expand your repertoire.’ 

Then, Catrina read from the start of her third book based on the recollections of Hedley Ralph Collard. She told us that when staying in Wales in 2014, she met him on a walk. He was in a wheelchair. They  struck up a conversation, and over time, developed a remarkable friendship. 

In her book, she writes as if she is him: in the first person. ‘The book wasn’t working when I was writing about him. I had to inhabit his voice,’ she said. With his permission that’s what she does. (No mean feat.)

Catrina Davies reading from the start of her third book based on the recollections of Hedley Ralph Collard. Why Stories About Climate Change need a hook. She sits in a small marquee on a seat, with a guitar to the right of her.

Regenerative storytelling: a bridge between us and the planet

What she’s done is really interesting — and smart. Catrina has interwoven the life of one man (who’s name has been changed to Thomas Hedley) and pitched it against the much larger backdrop of life on Earth, starting 4.5 Billion Years Ago.

 By interspersing his human story — which began in the mid-1950s, at the time that we as a species began directly, unalterably impacting the planet  — we care about the individual AND the whole. 

As the rain lashed down, Catrina explained how she’d been trying to capture the fragility of his life. ‘It expressed something universal and urgent about all of our lives at this moment in history.’ 

Thomas, she said, is both an everyman and an extraordinary individual. He grew up on Exmoor in southwest Britain and knew the names of all the trees. He had a tough, rural upbringing, accident after accident, until one left him paralysed from the neck down. 

Davies' book cover: Once Upon a Raven's Nest - Why Stories About Climate Change need a hook.

Stories work best when they are universal AND particular. It’s a Hollywood cliche but it’s true. When we can see ourselves reflected in the life of a protagonist on screen, we leave the cinema with that rush of having experienced a great movie. We feel validated, our lives that bit richer.  

At the end of the talk, I bought another copy of Catrina’s book as a present. I introduced myself and she asked my name. Her forehead puckered. ‘I know that name. What did you write?’ 

I think I stammered. ‘’My first book was Last Seen in Lhasa—’ 

‘Aagh,’ she exclaimed. ‘I read that. Came out about twenty years ago? I’ve still got a copy.’ She handed me hers. ‘It was a great book.’ 

I think I blushed because it’s been a while since I’ve had anything published. It was a sweet moment: my own validation. An unexpected endorsement that I am on the right track with this new work about climate change. 

I still haven’t opened her book. The time isn’t right. But I look at it differently now when I’m procrastinating. It gives me hope. 

Hi, I’m Claire. Through my business Wordstruck we help companies bring their sustainability strategy to life. As the Founder of Regenerative Storytelling, we’re helping leaders do more for their people, their community and the planet. I publish regular content about storytelling, regenerative leadership and reframing how to address our rapidly heating world. To see more of my content, please sign up – and join the conversation by sharing a comment below.

Cautious or curious. Which are you?

A image taken by Claire at The Do Lectures Festival of AI generated cartoons of a 'superhero puppy'.

This is both a cautionary tale and a tale of curiosity. 

What this isn’t, is a debate on the rights or wrongs of generative Artificial Intelligence (AI). There’s been A LOT written about that and I don’t feel qualified to talk about it. Instead this is a narrow aperture of using AI and seeing what it can do.

You’ll notice the photo above of two creatures. On the left is a weird, slightly scary Gothic dog-thing, wearing a twisted superhero outfit. On the right, is a pretty cute puppy, also wearing a red and yellow hero suit. Canine features are discernible: button-brown eyes, floppy ears, paws. 

Chris Branch, Founder and Marketing Director of Seedily, shared this image at the start of his presentation at the DO lectures (read here about DO if you missed that post). He used the two photos to illustrate how fast AI is evolving. 

While he covered AI across all media, he particularly focused on ChatGPT (for text) and Midjourney (for images). 

”This is a decentralised form of creativity,” Chris said. “Your idea can be a single idea and 30 seconds later you have a way to represent that one idea in many ways.”

Reluctantly on the journey

Midjourney, Magazine Cover - the AI art programme. It shows 'MidJourney' in capital letters. The background is a woman's face, pixled and with blue, red and yellow spots.
The Midjourney magazine cover.

Last year, Midjourney, an AI program and platform, made headlines when their free trial version was shut down because of ”extraordinary demand and trial abuse” said founder David Holz. I totally missed it, but deep fake photos of Pope Francis decked in a white puffer jacket and sporting a diamond chain went viral. 

In the words of BBC journalist, Alex Hughes, Midjourney, like other AI art programs “isn’t without its controversies”. However, continues Hughes, it leads in painting and Gothic/sci-fi inspired artwork, as well as regular updates “in techniques and advancements in its training database.”

This is where the puppy comes in. 

Getting the experts in early

During his talk Chris Branch said that the first 20,000 users of Midjourney were art directors from around the world – all part of the ‘training database’. He explained that the same prompt – along the lines of ‘puppy dressed as a superhero’ – was used in June 2022 and a year later, in June 2023. 

As you can see. The results are exponentially different. 

A year after testing and learning, harnessing global expert feedback, refining the technology, the AI-generated puppy image is transformed. 

No wonder there are likely to be new jobs coming, titled ‘Prompt engineer’. 

Rabbit wearing pom-pom-toque and red-white-sequined-christmas-scarf, in the snow, art in the style of jon klassen and atey ghailan.
The prompt: rabbit wearing pom-pom-toque and red-white-sequined-christmas-scarf, in the snow, art in the style of Jon Klassen and Atey Ghailan.
AI Generated pictures displayed on a projector screen. Left: headphones, a boy, Spider Man mask, football boots, The Joker at a picnic.
AI generated pictures.

Putting ChatGPT to work

About a year ago, when OpenAI ChatGPT3 launched, I typed in, ‘what is a regenerative business?’ In about 10 seconds it spat out an okay answer: vague, wordy, lacking any specificity. Still, I was impressed how it described an abstract concept. After that I switched off. As a writer, the ethical minefield of AI felt too deep to navigate. 

But I’m a pragmatist. 

So, a few weeks ago I thought it would be fun to experiment. I asked my niece Imogen Scobie, who supports me with social, to attend an online course. Lazy Discipline ChatGPT Edition is run by David Hieatt/DO lectures. Imogen got a first class degree in philosophy and is fascinated by the ethics question of AI.

Here’s the 3-step process Imogen took. 

Step 1: She created what David calls ‘Anchor Notes’ – a document giving the relevant context and prompt. In this case, says Imogen, “I started with a description of who Claire is and what she wants her LinkedIn posts to achieve. Then I wrote a piece of content in Claire’s writing style.” 

Step 2: Then she input that content PLUS an example of somebody else’s writing style. ‘In the style of…’ gives ChatGPT added context and a specific example to work with.

Step 3: Finally, she gave ChatGPT a prompt like: “Write three versions of this in the style of Claire so that it is more engaging and appealing for LinkedIn”. Imogen could then choose which versions she liked. “I also asked ChatGPT to alter the style, tone down the adjectives or make it more appealing to LinkedIn’s algorithm.”. 

While the results were pretty good, we both felt the posts were overwritten. (And btw, we haven’t published them yet. We’ll let you know if we do!)  

Imogen’s 3 top takeaways: 

  1. Use ChatGPT as a tool to make the quality of your copy better. Not as a quick fix. You might not save time, but you will be more efficient at coming up with better ideas… 
  2. “The quality of your questions determines the quality of your life”. Success in using Chat GPT comes down to the context you provide and the prompt you ask it. If you ask ChatGPT an unclear question, you will get a vague response. 
  3. It’s you versus you. Get better at being you, instead of trying to be like everyone else! At the end of the day, ChatGPT cannot write better than you can. 
Taken from the Do Lectures Lazy Discipline, ChatGPT Edition course on AI. Large writing in white with a background of a beach at dusk.

Decentralised creativity

Imogen and I would love to know how you are navigating AI. 

Are you running towards it, or veering away? Are you being honest when you use it (i.e. quite a few people have shared how they write their posts or emails with it). 

Is it a way to become more creative? If you’re experimenting, what are you discovering? 

Hi, I’m Claire. Through my business Wordstruck we help companies bring their sustainability strategy to life. As the Founder of Regenerative Storytelling, we’re helping leaders do more for their people, their community and the planet. I publish regular content about storytelling, regenerative leadership and reframing how to address our rapidly heating world. To see more of my content, please sign up – and join the conversation by sharing a comment below.

Doing the Do 

The Do Lectures have a global reputation. Rightly so. 

A friend Ruth Kennedy first told me about them. What stayed with me was not what she said but how she talked about her experience. Her energy. 

I started following Do co-founder David Hieatt’s blog, bought some of their books (Do Story by Bobette Buster is a goodie), and had it on my love-to-do-sometime-list. 

Getting there isn’t straightforward. It’s held in a field in south-west Wales. Ireland is closer than London. Even before that, you fill out an application form with questions that made me sweat. The hardest one: draw a doodle of yourself. My attempt is above. 

Immaculate vibes

Like all good festivals, there’s a price tag that goes with it. But this is a festival for the mind — and heart. (Interestingly they flip the events’ business model: participants pay, speakers don’t get paid; the talks are shared for free, with no advertising, to grow the worldwide Do community.) 

“The place had immaculate vibes”, said one Do-er. While it brought out the best in us, it would have been even better with more diversity throughout.  

Still, something extraordinary – and regenerative – can happen when you put one hundred pretty amazing humans in a field for three days; ask speakers to share the essence of who they are (which at times moves you to tears); have intentional provocations and real conversations; curate natural spaces with fire pits, an open-air amphitheatre, a Welsh choir and al fresco dining among the flower beds. 

Not to mention a gin bar and live music acts including a virtuoso sax performance by James Morton who had half of us pumping like pogo-sticks. 

I’m left with clothes smelling of wood smoke, a new yummy network of committed change makers and a brain fizzing with ideas. When my husband Aden picked me up, he summed it up nicely. “You look like your synapses are sparking like a V12 motor, the clean kind, electric-powered.” 

So, this will be the first of a few posts sharing what I heard.

The home of the Do Lectures. A picture taken by Claire of a sunny grassy bank with gentle steps and a grand brick house in the background.
Parcy Pratt Farm - home of Do.
James Morton sax performance with his band at the Do Lectures Festival. Claire's picture shows a group of people sitting around James Morton playing the piano.
James Morton and his band.

When you don’t know: muddle

I’m kicking off with an introduction to Omid Maleka, Explainer-in-chief of Blockchain Technology, who spoke about his journey into crypto… and how: 

“When you don’t know what to do … when we don’t know our story… muddle.”

He explained crypto in a way that I hadn’t previously understood. He held up the first CD he bought when he migrated to America as a teenager. 

“The scarcity of society has been an organising system for ever. Take this CD, if I gave it away, I would feel like I lost something… Now think about streaming. What happens if I share the music file instead?” 

Of course we all know the benefit and convenience of streaming, but we give up something of value. “That’s the trade off.” 

Pictures taken by Claire of slides from Omid Maleka' s presentation on crypto.
A journey into Crypto.
Pictures taken by Claire of slides from Omid Maleka' s presentation on crypto.
What is blockchain?

Reframe value

Omid described the difference between cash (universal, free and private) and Apple Pay (my words here – elitist, costly and monetising our data). 

“Apple Pay. Think how much they own,” said Omid. 

At the heart, he challenged us to reframe value. “Big tech and big banks are stuck in the old paradigm… which is to hoard. Crypto represents a very different story.”

Move faster-er and be braver

The point is this. At Do, everyone was there for change. Whether through our business or ourselves, or for the planet. 

We want to leave the world in a better place. We have no choice but to try. 

As Andy Middleton, MC and Sustainability Catalyst, reminds us on the last day. 

“In the time we’ve been here – the world has had the three hottest days in its history. Don’t go away being optimistic because we are in a s**t place. But go away and be braver.”

 

Hi, I’m Claire. Through my business Wordstruck we help companies bring their sustainability strategy to life. As the Founder of Regenerative Storytelling, we’re helping leaders do more for their people, their community and the planet. I publish regular content about storytelling, regenerative leadership and reframing how to address our rapidly heating world. To see more of my content, please sign up – and join the conversation by sharing a comment below.

Struck down: but not for long

A picture taken by Claire on her visit to the Peak District. The grassy banks and blue but cloud spotted sky are struck either side of the stacked rocks.

One day you’re striding the dales, and the next you can hardly move. That was my experience about 10 days ago. 

I knew they were a lot of flu lurgies around so I thought that’s what I had. It wasn’t until I realised I’d lost my sense of smell that it dawned on me… aargh, the dreaded COVID-19. The test confirmed it. I’d gone from a Novid (someone who’d never had it) to a Covid.

Aside from doing all the things you’re supposed to… resting, ginger honey and lemon for the sore throat, painkillers for the nightmarish headaches… I also read a lot. I tend to have a few books on the boil and all are linked to the theme of regeneration. (Sorry, I just can’t help myself ;)) 

This quiet time also gave me a chance to sift through my notes and interviews I’ve done so far for my book project. I’ve been wanting to distil what I know. It helps me figure stuff out. And I’m hoping it will help pique your curiosity too.   

So, what is regeneration?

Obviously, it’s the opposite of degeneration. That’s about loss. This is about life. 

Its basis is not in the material world of mechanics or engineering – the entropic world. Its roots are in the living world of life – or the negentropic world.

So it reflects what is deeply innate within us. As you read this, the cells of your body are regenerating. The ground beneath your feet is shapeshifting with the processes of millions of microbes. Your gut – or biome – is evolving.

  

View across the dales, the Peak District. Green grass and ferns stretch into the distance with two ridges visible in the distance.
View across the dales, the Peak District.

But what does this have to do with business?

Regenerative theory and development has taken some of the fundamental principles of living systems theory, together with complexity theory, philosophy, Indigenous cultures, new economics (to name but a few) and aims to put vitality and viability back into the system we all share. 

Simply put, to heal the damage done.

Regeneration: a verb not a noun

Unlike sustainability which tends to focus on metrics and targets. Being regenerative is not an end state. It’s not a noun. It’s a verb — and it’s a principle to live by. 

Former Head of Regenerative Design at the RSA, Josie Warden, puts it like this: Being regenerative is both “a mindset and a way of seeing and being in the world.”

3 questions to alter your perspective:

  1. How is this project/decision contributing to life? 
  2. Who do I want to be in this moment? (I find this question shifts where I put my attention before I meet with a client.) 
  3. How can I best serve the wider system that the person in front of me represents. (This question immediately reminds me of the vast hinterland behind each of us… and gives me a broader perspective than if I just approach the individual.) 

How about you? What systems do you have the opportunity — and the delight — to influence? 

I would love to hear your thoughts. 

A picture of Claire at Avebury Henge before being struck down by Covid. She is wearing a maroon rain jacket and standing with one arm stretched out to touch the rock.
Claire at Avebury Henge before being struck down by Covid.

Hi, I’m Claire. Through my business Wordstruck we help companies bring their sustainability strategy to life. As the Founder of Regenerative Storytelling, we’re helping leaders do more for their people, their community and the planet. I publish regular content about storytelling, regenerative leadership and reframing how to address our rapidly heating world. To see more of my content, please sign up – and join the conversation by sharing a comment below.

Caring: Regeneration in Action

A picture taken by Claire of the stunning coastline of Prussia Cove, Cornwall. To the left, clear turquoise water meets the steep cliff edge. The coastline is covered in green grass and pink flowers.

This week I’ve been on holiday walking some of the South West Coastal Path in Cornwall. Unlike in much of the UK, we’ve had glorious sunshine on this rugged peninsula. (The long winter I mentioned in my last post, a distant memory.) 

The Coastal Path is actually many paths. They are narrow and you walk pressed between wild flowers: magenta foxgloves, white cow parsley, wild gladioli, giant daisies. Walking gives me time to reflect, ponder and percolate ideas. Quietly, I’ve started to map out chapter headings for my next book. 

My friends keep asking what I’m writing about. They’re hoping for another novel. When I tell them I am writing about how we can apply regenerative principles to our work and life, they look a bit disappointed. 

But, that’s okay. I reckon, once they read what I’m learning about… they’ll be interested.

A picture taken by Claire of some of the native plants with their distinctive shapes and colours. They are pink, green and dark purple with some curved and spiky leaves.
Succulents only grow outdoors here.
A photo taken by Claire of the green verge of the coastline with tall pink foxgloves. The background is a clear baby blue sky with bright sunshine.
Tall and bright pink foxgloves stand out in the sunshine.

Paul Hawken: a world-leading author in regeneration

Right now I’m in the exciting phase of interviewing people across industries and from different fields. These include economist and environmentalist, Paul Hawken, author of Regeneration: how to end the climate crisis in one generation. It’s ballsy and bold, like him. There’s an urgency and intensity in the way he talks that is captivating – and makes you believe this is possible. 

And it’s also backed up by solid research. In 2014 Hawken founded Project Drawdown. Since then he’s collaborated with over 200 researchers on dozens of climate solutions – many of which are already happening to create “the largest social movement in history.” Behind the scenes he works with heads of state and global CEOs to help them accelerate economic and ecological regeneration.

When we spoke he reminded me that, “We are innately regenerative, all 30 trillion cells in us.” 

When I pressed him for more, he said simply, “Caring is regeneration in action… Unlike a concept like sustainability, regenerative is a principle. It is a way of seeing… This regenerative impulse is in all human beings. “ 



One of the books Claire is reading to gather research on regenerative principles.
Paul Hawken: a world-leader in regen.

Nature immersion: it works.

Walking in Cornwall felt so regenerative. The profusion of flowers, warm micro-climates where palm trees, succulents and grevillea grow (frosts are rare in the southwest so these species survive the UK winter) add to the rich biodiversity. Carpets of pink “pig face” tumble off cliff faces; gulls wheel above. 

Being immersed in nature like this helped me think more deeply on how to simplify some of the regenerative theories. It seemed apt that the South West Coastal Path spits and diverges… each path has its own character… each adapting to the shape of the land that it travels. There’s a certain etiquette as you walk – you shout “runner” and step aside when a jogger barrels past, you step onto the bank when the path is particularly narrow, and let a family walk by. 

Taking the time to slow down.

All of this spoke to me of the need to be attuned to your surroundings – to the place you are in. (Place-making is essential to regenerative thinking). It’s also about slowing down and taking the time to notice the micro-moments of nature.

This card I found in the port town of Mousehole summed it up well. We cannot direct the wind but we can adjust the sails. That is, our own sails…

By changing our way of seeing, we can achieve so much. Really we can.

A picture taken by Claire of a card. It is an artists print drawing in blue of a sail boat in the waves. Text below it reads, 'We cannot direct the wind but we can adjust the sails'.

                                                         Over to you. What inspires you the most when you are in nature / the bush / on country? 

Hi, I’m Claire. Through my business Wordstruck we help companies bring their sustainability strategy to life. As the Founder of Regenerative Storytelling, we’re helping leaders do more for their people, their community and the planet. I publish regular content about storytelling, regenerative leadership and reframing how to address our rapidly heating world. To see more of my content, please sign up – and join the conversation by sharing a comment below.