Regeneration Archives - Regenerative Storytelling

Ten tips on how to write about sustainability

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.

‘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.

Always think about your audience first. Understand where your audience is really at… not where you want them to be.
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.
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.
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.

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.

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.

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.’

‘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?

Anthropocene Bloomsbury community Gigha island islander land reform nature regeneration Regenerative Scotland seed stories

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.)

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.

Getting people to care: how stories do this

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.

books fiction Human nature regeneration Regenerative regenerative principles stories

REGENERATIVE STORYTELLING