We need to be smarter in how we talk about climate predictions (Image: Keith Getter/Getty)

Like most areas of complex research, predictions of how climate will change as greenhouse gases accumulate in Earth鈥檚 atmosphere aren鈥檛 free of . But unlike economic forecasts 鈥� which are often taken at face value by the public despite proving wildly inaccurate most of the time 鈥� climate predictions are criticised for having error bars. They have become a stick with which to beat climate science and delay political action.

Lobbyists ideologically opposed to the regulation of industry continue to manufacture distrust around climate research. They exaggerate areas of uncertainty while dismissing those of strong consensus and agreement 鈥� just as their predecessors once did for the links between tobacco and lung cancer.

As a result, climate researchers spend a lot of time apologising for what they don鈥檛 know, rather than confidently stating what they do. Even without these distorting influences, the communication of uncertainty is still a big challenge. With crucial climate talks due in Paris later this year, the need to address this is urgent. That鈥檚 why a new guide which I co-authored and which is published this week, , is timely.

It urges scientists and other communicators not to downplay uncertainties in climate models and projections, but to get smarter about how they communicate them.

For starters, outside the lab the word 鈥渦ncertainty鈥� is loaded with negative connotations: most people expect certainty from science, and get frustrated when it doesn鈥檛 deliver it 鈥� so managing expectations is crucial.

Research suggests that talking about 鈥渞isks鈥� rather than 鈥渦ncertainties鈥� could help: it is part of the language of the insurance, health and national security that people are familiar with.

A focus on uncertainty is more common among those on the right of politics, so finding ways of talking that resonate across the political spectrum is essential. One suggestion is to focus on issues of resilience and security, which conservatives tend to prioritise.

Emphasising the scientific consensus on climate change is also important 鈥� as well as the in support of a transition to low-carbon energy. And, most crucially, we must remember that this is a human story as well as a scientific one.

The amount of carbon dioxide emitted over the next 50 years will determine how much our climate shifts. But burning just half of known fossil fuel reserves, possible if current trends continue, will unleash unprecedented change, even on the most optimistic assessment. So what we choose to do 鈥� and how quickly we can muster the collective will power to do it 鈥� is one uncertainty that dwarfs all others.

Read more: 鈥�33 reasons why we can鈥檛 think clearly about climate change鈥�

The Uncertainty Handbook: A practical guide for climate change communicators is a collaboration between the University of Bristol, UK, and the Climate Outreach and Information Network (COIN), a UK-based charity

The wettest January in the UK in 250 years followed by a stormy February have brought misery to many thousands. Floods have submerged large chunks of the south-west of the country, a key stretch of railway collapsed into the sea, and the river Thames spectacularly burst its banks, deluging towns and villages.

As a statement from the UK鈥檚 weather service, the Met Office, made clear, these are the . But a strange disconnect has run through mainstream media coverage and political discourse. Amid the clamour to apportion blame and political point-scoring, one conversation was conspicuously low profile: whether this is a bitter taste of what climate change has in store for the UK.

For a long time, social scientists have been interested in the impact of flooding and other extreme weather on public attitudes to climate change. Because it is regarded as a distant and intangible threat to people across much of Europe 鈥� not here, not now and not us 鈥� communicating its risks has proved to be a significant challenge. Intuition would suggest that personal experience of the sorts of events associated with climate change would cut through the psychological security blanket that usually keeps the issue at arm鈥檚 length. And sure enough, research has found a link between being flooded and elevated concern about climate change.

In a study published in 2011 (), people who had been flooded expressed not only higher levels of climate concern but a greater willingness to reduce their carbon footprints. In another more recent , those living in a recently flooded area were 10 per cent more likely to agree that the impact of climate change is already being felt.

Sudden and extreme events like flooding are a grim reminder that the climate is changing. But even mundane changes can play a role in shaping opinion. An over two decades found a clear and consistent relationship between average temperatures and belief in the reality and seriousness of climate change. The study even put a figure on this: for every degree that temperature rose above the average over the previous 12 months, there was a 7.6 per cent increase in agreement that the world was warming.

So will the 2014 floods catalyse a dramatic reduction in public apathy to climate change? A new study led by my colleague Stuart Capstick suggests that some people will be unmoved 鈥� because weather patterns are interpreted according to existing beliefs and values. The research focused on perceptions of climate change during a cold snap that engulfed the UK in 2011, analysing responses according to political views and values.

Those who were more individualistic and endorsed free-market economic principles were more likely to be climate sceptics, and this group saw the freezing temperatures as evidence that the world was not warming. But three times as many people viewed the disruptive, chaotic weather as proof of a changing climate.

Extreme weather, like every aspect of the highly polarised topic of climate change, is thus subject to powerful psychological, cultural and political filters, which conspire to produce confounding outcomes. The Daily Mail 鈥� a newspaper renowned for its sceptical editorials and reporting 鈥� responded to the floods in a predictable manner. Rather than criticise the government for failing to invest in climate change adaptation, the paper picked a familiar villain 鈥� the overseas aid budget 鈥� and argued that it should be redeployed to help flood victims.

As much as climate change is a scientific issue, the stories we read about it are important too.

快猫短视频s are understandably reluctant to make causal links between any single weather event and the complex dynamics of a changing climate. Definitive proof that this weather is the result of climate change is currently beyond us. But without a coordinated and consistent message that more flooding is on the way for the UK if ambitious action on climate change is not forthcoming, there is no guarantee that the public will join the dots. In the absence of a coherent narrative on this, uncertainty flourishes and scepticism is likely to grow.

The sociologist Robert Brulle tracked US public opinion on climate change over more than a decade, piecing together events and influences that had swayed views. Brulle鈥檚 analysis pointed strongly to the importance of 鈥渆lite cues鈥�; that is, signals and messages that people get from the media, politicians and other high-profile voices. What they say matters 鈥� especially when they say nothing.

Unsurprisingly, with such a muted national conversation in the UK, public interest has dwindled. A climate silence prevails.

A I wrote for the Climate Outreach and Information Network at the end of last year argued that the climate change debate urgently needs new narratives that make the link between the climate challenge and ordinary people. Climate change will have an impact on most aspects of society, yet it remains stuck in an environmentalist niche, as if only greens needed to concern themselves with the effects of a warmer world.

In flooded Oxford, residents held a that posed a simple question: can we talk about climate change now? Belatedly 鈥� and after thousands of homes have been damaged by floods 鈥� the issue of climate change is gradually re-entering the national discourse. It may be the only silver lining in an otherwise thoroughly gruesome winter鈥檚 tale.

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WHEN scholars of the future write the history of climate change, they may look to early 2008 as a pivotal moment. Al Gore鈥檚 film An Inconvenient Truth was bringing the science to the masses. The economist Nicholas Stern had made the financial case for tackling the problem sooner rather than later. And the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC) had just issued its most unequivocal report yet on the link between human activity and climatic change.

The scientific and economic cases were made. Surely with all those facts on the table, soaring public interest and ambitious political action were inevitable?

The exact opposite happened. Fast-forward to today, the eve of the IPCC鈥檚 latest report on the state of climate science, and it is clear that public concern and political enthusiasm have not kept up with the science. Apathy, lack of interest and even outright denial are more widespread than they were in 2008.

How did the rational arguments of science and economics fail to win the day? There are many reasons, but an important one concerns human nature.

Through a growing body of psychological research, we know that scaring or shaming people into sustainable behaviour is likely to backfire. We know that it is difficult to overcome the psychological distance between the concept of climate change 鈥� not here, not now 鈥� and people鈥檚 everyday lives. We know that beliefs about the climate are influenced by extreme and even daily weather.

One of the most striking findings is that concern about climate change is not only, or even mostly, a product of how much people know about science. Increased knowledge tends to harden existing opinions ().

These findings, and many more, are increasingly , but it is not clear that lessons are being learned. In particular, there is a great deal of resistance towards the idea that communicating climate change requires more than explaining the science.

The IPCC report, due out on 27 September, will provide communicators with plenty of factual ammunition. It will inevitably be attacked by climate deniers. In response, rebuttals, debunkings and counter-arguments will pour forth, as fighting denial has become a cottage industry in itself.

None of it will make any real difference. This is for the simple reason that the argument is not really about the science; it is about politics and values.

Consider, for example, the finding that people with politically conservative beliefs are more likely to . Accurate information about climate change is no less readily available to these people than anybody else. But climate policies such as the regulation of industrial emissions often seem to clash with conservative political views. And people work backwards from their values, filtering the facts according to their pre-existing beliefs.

Research has shown that people who endorse free-market economic principles become less hostile when they are presented with which do not seem to be as threatening to their world view, such as geoengineering. Climate change communicators must understand that debates about the science are often simply a proxy for these more fundamental disagreements.

Some will argue that climate change discourse has become so polluted by politics that we can鈥檛 see the scientific woods for the political trees. Why should science communicators get their hands dirty with politics? But the solution is not to scream ever louder at people that the woods are there if only they would look properly. A much better, and more empirically supported, answer is to start with those trees. The way to engage the public on climate change is to find ways of making it resonate more effectively with the values that people hold.

鈥淭he way to engage people is to find ways of making climate change resonate with their values鈥�

My colleagues and I argued in a recent for the Climate Outreach and Information Network that there is no inherent contradiction between conservative values and engaging with climate change science. But hostility has grown because climate change has become associated with left-wing ideas and language.

If communicators were to start with ideas that resonated more powerfully with the right 鈥� the beauty of the local environment, or the need to enhance energy security 鈥� the conversation about climate change would likely flow much more easily.

Similarly, a recent from the Understanding Risk group at Cardif University in the UK showed there are some core values that underpin views about the country鈥檚 energy system. Whether wind farms or nuclear power, the public judges energy technologies by a set of underlying values 鈥� including fairness, avoiding wastefulness and affordability. If a technology is seen as embodying these, it is likely to be approved of. Again, it is human values, more than science and technology, which shape public perceptions.

Accepting this is a challenge for those seeking to communicate climate science. Too often, they assume that the facts will speak for themselves 鈥� ignoring the research that reveals how real people respond. That is a pretty unscientific way of going about science communication.

The challenge when the IPCC report appears, then, is not to simply crank up the volume on the facts. Instead, we must use the report as the beginning of a series of conversations about climate change 鈥� conversations that start from people鈥檚 values and work back from there to the science.

This article appeared in print under the headline 鈥淭he world won鈥檛 listen鈥�