The Upside of Transparency: Why It’s Worth the Risk

Current talk about the Obama Administration’s trouble with transparency reveals a strong parallel with sustainability-oriented businesses: it’s easy (and sounds so nice) to say you’re committed to transparency; try to deliver on that promise and you’re likely to encounter walls of uncertainty, fear, and bureaucratic resistance.

When transparency means revealing unfavorable or unflattering information (and it usually does to some extent), companies and institutions often get cold feet. They consider the negative publicity that could ensue and decide they can’t risk it. What they often fail to consider is the risk of continuing to hide and the benefits of public confession.

Someone’s bound to find out your secrets eventually, and then you have no control over the story. On the other hand, social psychology research, along with plenty of anecdotal evidence, shows that organizations that acknowledge problems—and say what they’re doing to address them—are perceived as more credible. Telling the truth makes you trustworthy. This is why attention to challenges is a factor in the Thinkshift Credibility Quotient™ (see an earlier post on how this applies to companies introducing advanced technologies).

You may be familiar with one of the best examples of transparency and acknowledging challenges: Patagonia’s Footprint Chronicles program, which traces the company’s products through the supply chain. If not, here’s a look at the site in action:

I look up a jacket, and the website tells me the sustainability “good” (it’s recyclable), and the “bad” (the waterproof finish uses a chemical that persists in the environment). It also tells me they’re researching alternatives, but for now the finish stays because it’s essential to performance.

The fact that they’re telling me a negative thing makes the positives they point out all the more credible. It also has the interesting effect of making me as a potential purchaser share responsibility. They’ve told me about the chemical; if I want to reduce its incidence, I can forego waterproofing. If I want the waterproofing, I am partly responsible for the sustainability problem. Nice, huh?

What Works When Communicating About Climate and More

I wrote in April about what decision science research tells us about how people respond to environmental issues and what that means for communicators. Now the Center for Research on Environmental Decisions (CRED) at Columbia University has released an illustrated guide to the psychology of climate change communication—handily summarized by Grist blogger Jonathan Hiskes here.

Even if you’re not communicating directly or specifically about climate change, take a look. There are nuggets here that can be useful to people trying to influence behavior on a spectrum of environment-related topics—from clean tech companies trying to get staid industries to adopt new technologies to universities trying to boost participation in campus sustainability efforts.

Much of the advice boils down to the fundamental communications truth—it’s not about you; it’s about your audience. Know who they are, speak their language, put problems and solutions in their context, be concrete, don’t exaggerate, and give people easy ways to act. You’ve no doubt heard these rules before (we certainly can’t shut up about them), but this guide gives you the science behind why you ignore them at your peril, and may give you fresh ideas on how to to apply them.

FTC’s Draft Green Guides Set a High Bar

Companies making vague and poorly supported environmental claims are about to get a smackdown from the Federal Trade Commission’s upcoming revised Guides for the Use of Environmental Marketing Claims (aka Green Guides), according to Victor Bell of Environmental Packaging International, which has been giving the agency feedback on the long-awaited revision. That is, if the guidelines are enforced—and Bell believes they will be.

Bell’s presentation at the recent Sustainable Packaging Forum conference in Atlanta caused a stir—many in the audience seemed taken aback by the draft guidelines’ stringency (and possibly by Bell’s delightfully vehement presentation of them). For example, Bell said, a brand name like Eco‐Safe would be considered deceptive if it leads consumers to believe that the product or package has environmental benefits that the manufacturer can’t  substantiate. A wrapper labeled “environmentally friendly” because it wasn’t bleached with chlorine would be considered deceptive if production of the wrapper created other harmful substances. And claims that packaging is recyclable will be considered deceptive unless they’re recyclable in at least 60 percent of U.S. communities.

I preceded Bell on stage with a presentation on the Thinkshift Credibility Quotient—the public debut of  the official version of our system for measuring the credibility of any communication. I was happy to see that the criteria we’re using line up neatly with the FTC’s draft guidelines. (Bell told me later that he thought I was saying essentially the same thing; I was just nicer about it. Maybe I shouldn’t have been!)

I see credibility questions popping up more and more—and I think companies that believe they can continue forever to make grandiose, unsupported claims are in for an unpleasant surprise.

Bad Language: Why ‘Consumer’ Should Get the Boot

I like to work myself into a good froth before posting one of an occasional series of rants on words and phrases that make me want to spit nails. And I’m finally there on consumer, used to identify a person or people (as opposed to business jargon for a market sector).

In fact, I’ve stewed over this one so long others have beat me to it (see Joseph Romm in Grist). But consumer deserves a pile-on. As in, “Consumers value convenience above all else.”

Well yes, consumers would. But would citizens? Parents? Community members? Patriots? Environmentalists/sports fans/gardeners/name your identity here? The use of the word “consumers” to identify people at all times in all contexts encourages us to think of ourselves—and each other—as nothing more than engines of consumption. It frames our view on problems and solutions in a way that narrows the perspective to purely personal concerns (often amounting to unexamined habits) and positions us as passive recipients of whatever’s out there—we can accept or reject, but not direct.

A sentence like “Consumers care more about perceived effectiveness and than about exposing their household to hazardous chemicals” will be accepted as a truism. Yeah, consumers are like that. Would the sentence “Parents care more about perceived effectiveness and than about exposing their household to hazardous chemicals” seem quite as commonsensical? I’m going to say no.

I’m also going to take a vow: I will never again use the word consumer to refer to a person or people. (I admit it, I’ve done it.) And at the risk of sounding preachy, I think everyone who writes or talks about sustainability issues should do the same. The words we use to describe things affect how we see them. And even when we’re shopping—perhaps especially when we’re shopping—we need to stop seeing ourselves as simply creatures who buy things.

Help for Communicating Science Is on the Horizon

I just learned about Randy Olson’s forthcoming book, Don’t Be Such a Scientist: Talking Substance in an Age of Style, due out in September from Island Press. (Thanks to Andrew Revkin’s excellent NY Times DotEarth post on communicating climate change.)

Olson wants scientists to be able to tell their stories to the rest of us. I can’t wait to see what he has to say. Here are the chapter titles:

  • Don’t Be So Cerebral
  • Don’t Be So Literal Minded
  • Don’t Be Such a Poor Storyteller
  • Don’t Be So Unlikeable
  • Be the Voice of Science!

You can find out more on the book’s website. Olson is a filmmaker with a Ph.D. in marine biology and a master’s in filmmaking from the USC film school. He  co-founded The Shifting Baselines Ocean Media Project, a partnership between scientists and Hollywood to communicate the crisis facing our oceans. His films include Flock of Dodos: The Evolution-Intelligent Design Circus (2006; seen at the Tribeca Film Festival) and Sizzle: A Global Warming Comedy (2008).

While we’re on the subject, scientists (and anyone else in a technical field) could also take a lesson from Elizabeth Kolbert, who writes eloquently and plainly about matters environmental for the New Yorker. Her  latest book (highly recommended), Field Notes from a Catastrophe (2006), is about global warming.

Finally, please patronize your local independent bookstore or public library.