Why We Disagree on Climate—and How to Bridge the Divide
Climate change is widely recognized as a crisis, yet political action often lags far behind what scientists urge. This gap between urgency and action frustrates many citizens. For example, the United States recently passed a major climate bill with zero support from one political party, and nearly a third of Americans still believe human activity has little or no impact on climate change (1). Such deep divisions over climate science and policy reflect broader political polarization. In personal life, these divides can strain relationships—family gatherings or workplace conversations become battlegrounds over climate facts and values. Climate change is no longer a purely scientific issue; it is deeply social and moral, entangled with identity and values. As a result, discussions can turn emotional or combative. Research shows that when people see an issue in moral terms, they become strongly convinced of their own righteousness and may react viscerally to those who disagree (2). This helps explain why conversations about climate often feel so fraught: they tap into our core beliefs about right and wrong, fairness, responsibility, and even our vision of society.
Understanding the psychological roots of these conflicts can be a first step toward easing them. For me, two theories from social psychology help me understand into why well-intentioned people can respond so differently to climate change and environmental policies. These are Moral Foundations Theory and System Justification Theory, which each shed light on the values and motivations driving people’s beliefs and behaviors. By integrating these theories, we can better grasp why some people champion bold climate action as a moral imperative while others resist or deny such efforts, and how to bridge the divide. In the sections below, I introduce each theory and then synthesize their insights to explain the spectrum of responses to climate change.
How Values Shape Climate Attitudes
Moral Foundations Theory (MFT), developed by Jonathan Haidt and colleagues, posits that humans share several basic moral values or "foundations" that guide our judgments of right and wrong (2). These foundations are intuitive ethics that evolved to help us live cooperatively. They are natural human responses that help us reason through the diverse circumstances we encounter as we go through life. Classic formulations of MFT identify five primary moral foundations: (1) The Care/Harm foundation valuing compassion, caring for others, and preventing harm to the vulnerable. (e.g., suffering of people or animals due to climate disasters); (2) The Fairness/Reciprocity foundation valuing justice, equality, and fair treatment. (e.g., the fairness of current generations imposing costs on future generations, or holding polluters accountable.); (3) The Loyalty/In-group foundation valuing loyalty to one’s group, community, or nation. (e.g., protecting one’s country or community, preserving traditions.); (4) The Authority/Respect foundation valuing order, tradition, and respect for authority and social hierarchy. (e.g., maintaining social order and following respected leaders’ stances on climate.); and (5) The Purity/Sanctity foundation valuing purity, sanctity, and cleanliness (often with a sense of disgust at degradation; e.g., revulsion at pollution and desecration of nature, or conversely, suspicion of “contaminating” influences on society.)
Importantly, individuals (and political ideologies) differ in how much weight they give to each moral foundation. Liberals (progressives) tend to prioritize the Care and Fairness foundations most strongly, expressing great concern for preventing harm and treating people (and other beings) justly (2). Conservatives, by contrast, typically endorse the Loyalty, Authority, and Purity foundations relatively more than liberals do (2). In other words, conservatives often place additional moral emphasis on group loyalty, social order, respect for tradition, and guarding purity or sacredness. Liberals are morally offended foremost by suffering and injustice, whereas conservatives are also morally offended by betrayal, anarchy, or degradation of what they hold sacred (2). These are broad tendencies, but they are backed by extensive cross-cultural research on moral profiles (2).
How does this relate to climate change? Climate change and environmental protection can be framed in many moral lights, but in contemporary discourse they are most often discussed in terms of harm/care and fairness. Appeals to save polar bears, protect future generations, or ensure everyone has clean air and water all invoke caring and justice. Indeed, analyses of environmental speeches and media find that they overwhelmingly use harm-based moral language (e.g. emphasizing the damage and suffering caused by climate impacts) (2). This resonates strongly with liberals, for whom such care/harm arguments hit deep moral nerves. Liberals therefore tend to view environmental issues in moral terms—as matters of right and wrong, duty and obligation—more so than conservatives (2). This moral framing contributes to the well-documented ideology gap in environmental concern: liberals generally express greater pro-environment attitudes and urgency about climate action than conservatives do.
However, Moral Foundations Theory suggests that this gap is not inevitable. The difference arises in part because the typical moral framing of climate issues speaks to some values more than others. If one can reframe environmental protection in terms of the moral foundations that conservatives deeply care about, conservatives too may see it as a moral imperative. Empirical research supports this. In a set of studies, Feinberg and Willer (2013) found that reframing pro-environmental messages to emphasize Purity/Sanctity (a domain more valued by conservatives) dramatically increased conservatives’ pro-environment attitudes (2). In fact, reframing an environmental appeal to invoke purity (e.g. describing pollution as contaminating and disgusting, and environmental stewardship as maintaining the purity of our natural world) largely eliminated the attitudinal gap between liberals and conservatives (2). In other words, when environmental protection was cast as protecting something pure and sacred (rather than the usual harm-based appeal), conservatives became almost as supportive as liberals. This finding underscores a powerful point: people across the political spectrum can care about the environment, but the moral lens matters.
Consider a concrete example of moral reframing in practice. If you want to persuade a skeptical relative about climate action, a straightforward plea about “saving others from harm” or “the injustice of climate impacts” may not move them—those appeals align with your moral framework, not necessarily theirs. But you might try an argument centered on patriotism and loyalty, such as “we have a duty to protect our country’s lands and ensure America remains beautiful and strong for future generations.” You could also invoke respect for authority/tradition by noting that even past conservative leaders advocated conservation, or purity by lamenting how pollution “desecrates our sacred earth.” Social scientists call this moral reframing—couching your position in terms of the listener’s moral values (3). Robb Willer, a researcher on polarization, explains that a typically liberal argument about climate (emphasizing harm to people or animals) is often unpersuasive to conservatives, whereas “making an argument in terms of patriotism – about the need to protect the country and uphold national traditions of respecting the land – or in terms of purity, the need not to desecrate our pure and sacred habitats, would be more likely to resonate with conservatives because they fit with their moral values” (3). In essence, Moral Foundations Theory reveals that different people can view the same issue through very different moral lenses. Climate change can thus be seen as a grave moral failing (to protect the vulnerable) or as overblown hype (if one’s moral focus is on other priorities like loyalty or liberty being threatened by proposed solutions). Recognizing these differing moral frameworks is key to understanding why climate debates become so heated and how they might be bridged.
It’s worth noting that there may even be additional moral concerns at play beyond the five classic foundations. Some scholars point to a Liberty/Oppression foundation – a moral emphasis on personal freedom and resistance to control. In climate politics, this is highly relevant: many people morally oppose government regulations or taxes on principle, viewing them as infringements on individual or economic liberty. For instance, a person might object to carbon taxes or bans on certain fuels not because they don’t believe in climate change, but because “freedom” is a core moral value for them. Research indeed finds that one pathway to climate skepticism is a strong commitment to economic freedom and free-market principles (4). Such individuals perceive climate policies as government overreach that could “cripple the economy” or “take away our freedoms,” triggering a moral backlash in defense of liberty. Moral Foundations Theory (especially if expanded to include liberty) helps illuminate these reactions: to someone with this moral stance, aggressive environmental regulation feels morally wrong, akin to an authoritarian imposition, even while to others it feels morally necessary. In sum, MFT teaches us that divergent moral values can lead to polar opposite stances on the same climate facts.
Why the Status Quo Resists Change
While Moral Foundations Theory explains which values people prioritize, System Justification Theory (SJT) examines a different psychological force: our motivation to defend the existing social order. SJT, pioneered by John Jost and colleagues, proposes that many people (to varying degrees) are motivated to view the current status quo as legitimate, fair, and good, even if that status quo is imperfect or unjust (5). In other words, we have an impulse to justify “the way things are” in our society. This tendency serves a psychologically comforting function – it satisfies needs for stability, certainty, and belonging. Believing that our social and economic systems are basically sound and right can reduce anxiety and discord. By contrast, acknowledging that the system is flawed or in crisis can be unsettling. Thus, people high in system justification have a status quo bias: they resist change and view alternatives with suspicion (5). They may downplay problems in the current system and prefer to think everything is going fine, or at least that radical changes aren't needed.
When it comes to climate change, System Justification Theory offers a powerful explanation for denial, skepticism, or apathy in the face of looming threat. Climate change, by its very nature, calls into question the sustainability of our societal status quo. Combating climate change often requires rethinking our energy systems, economic models, and lifestyles – essentially, challenging business-as-usual. For people who are psychologically inclined to defend the status quo, this poses a direct threat. It’s not just a scientific debate; it’s an existential threat to the familiar world they live in (fossil-fuel driven economies, consumer lifestyles, established industries and jobs, etc.). One study explicitly found that resistance to acknowledging climate change is linked to the motive to defend the societal status quo against threat (6). In their research, Irina Feygina and colleagues describe how evidence of environmental destruction threatens people’s sense that “the system is okay”; as a defensive response, some engage in denial – downplaying the problem or rejecting the evidence – as a way to justify the status quo (6).
Empirical findings bear this out: individuals who score higher on system justification measures are significantly more likely to deny environmental problems and oppose pro-environmental actions (6). They might say climate change is exaggerated, claim it’s part of a natural cycle, or insist it will somehow fix itself through the market or technology – all arguments that serve to justify continuing with the status quo (i.e. not requiring disruptive changes). Such individuals also show less personal commitment to eco-friendly behaviors, presumably because they don’t feel a need to change what they’re doing if the overall system seems fine (6). Notably, system-justifying tendencies can cut across typical partisan lines, though they often correlate with conservative ideology. In fact, researchers found that some of the effect of political conservatism on climate skepticism is explained by system justification tendencies (6). Conservatives, on average, tend to have stronger needs for order and tradition, and thus higher system justification, which in turn leads to more climate denial. But even beyond left-right labels, anyone who finds comfort in the current social/economic system may have a hard time accepting the idea that this very system is causing an ecological crisis.
System Justification can manifest in subtle thoughts and conversations. Perhaps you’ve encountered someone who, when confronted with climate warnings, immediately responds with “Our economy would collapse if we tried to stop using oil and gas – it’s just unrealistic” or “Climate scientists have been wrong before; things always work out, and our way of life shouldn’t change.” These arguments exemplify a justified-system mindset: our current way of life is fundamentally right or inevitable, so information calling for big change must be flawed. Even feelings of fatalism (“nothing we do can really change the course, so why bother?”) can be a form of system justification – it defends the status quo by implying that alternatives are futile.
Importantly, System Justification Theory also highlights that people can defend the status quo even against their own self-interest. For instance, someone in a region prone to climate-exacerbated disasters might still deny climate change because admitting it would mean questioning the industries or government policies they have relied on. SJT was originally used to explain why disadvantaged groups sometimes support systems that disadvantage them (because of a deep need to see the world as just) (5). In the climate realm, we similarly see people in harm’s way or who stand to benefit from green jobs nonetheless opposing climate action if it challenges their identity or faith in the current system (consider coal miners who protest the phasing out of coal despite the economic hardship the industry’s decline will eventually bring – their identity and community are tied to the old system).
One silver lining in the research is that if the perception of threat to the system can be reduced, system-justifying individuals may become more open to change. Feygina et al. (2010) called this finding “system-sanctioned change.” They discovered that if you frame pro-environmental actions not as radical disruptions but as upholding core aspects of the system, it neutralizes the defensive resistance (6). For example, messages that portray environmental conservation as patriotic, as a way of preserving our nation’s greatness and protecting our homeland, can appeal to those wary of change. In Feygina’s study, when participants were encouraged to see pro-environmental change “as patriotic and consistent with protecting the status quo”, the negative effect of system justification on environmentalism essentially disappeared (6). In other words, people high in system justification became much more supportive of environmental actions once those actions were cast as reinforcing (rather than tearing down) the societal status quo. This has huge practical implications: it suggests we should communicate climate solutions in ways that affirm people’s fundamental values and sense of order. For instance, emphasizing how renewable energy can strengthen the economy, create jobs, and keep our country competitive can make transition seem like a continuity of national prosperity (a system-enhancing change) rather than a threat. Similarly, highlighting that communities can uphold their traditions (like farming or hunting heritage) through sustainable practices can help align environmental change with preserving valued lifestyles.
In summary, System Justification Theory helps explain the psychological inertia behind climate inaction. It’s not simply ignorance or lack of information that keeps people from embracing climate policies; for many, it’s an emotional need to defend the world they know. Climate change demands acknowledging that our status quo has unintended destructive consequences – a tough pill to swallow. Hence, denial or opposition often has less to do with doubting science and more to do with defending one’s worldview against upheaval. Understanding this can foster empathy: the coworker who scoffs at climate news might be feeling an existential need to believe in the stability and goodness of our society, rather than merely lacking intelligence or compassion.
Integrating Moral Foundations and System Justification
Moral Foundations Theory and System Justification Theory each offer a piece of the puzzle as to why people diverge so sharply on climate change. But these frameworks are complementary, and together they provide a richer understanding of the range of psychological responses. Integrating them, we see that people’s stance on climate issues is shaped both by what they value morally and by how they cope with challenges to the societal status quo.
Notably, there is a significant intersection between the two theories in the context of climate attitudes: political conservatism. Conservatives as a group tend to exhibit a distinctive moral profile (emphasizing loyalty, authority, purity) and higher system justification motives (valuing stability and tradition), which jointly make them more skeptical of climate action than liberals. In fact, as mentioned, the correlation between conservatism and climate-change skepticism is partially mediated by system justification (6). But moral factors are also at play: conservatives are less likely to view environmental protection in moral terms under the prevailing harm-based narrative (2). Thus, a conservative individual might be doubly inclined to resist climate policy: morally, they don’t perceive it as an ethical priority (and might even see proposed policies as violating their moral values like liberty or loyalty), and systemically, they feel a need to defend the established economic-social order against what climate activism represents. Little wonder that climate change has become so polarized along ideological lines.
Consider how these dynamics might unfold in real life. Imagine a family discussing a new environmental regulation. The environmentally conscious son argues passionately that failing to act on climate is immoral because it will harm millions and violate principles of fairness to future generations – he’s invoking the Care and Fairness foundations strongly. His father, however, responds that this regulation will hurt our country’s economy and way of life, perhaps even suggesting that forcing such change is un-American; he’s expressing a mix of Loyalty (to country or community), concern for Authority/Tradition (maintaining the economic system as is), and System Justification (belief that drastic changes threaten societal stability). The conversation gets heated: the son sees the father as callous or selfish, while the father sees the son as naive or disloyal to their community’s livelihood. In truth, both are moral people – but they are moral in different ways. Their talk past each other is fueled by differing foundational values and differing tolerance for system change.
Now add a third voice: the mother chimes in that perhaps they should “take care of the environment because it’s part of our family’s legacy and God’s creation – we’ve always prided ourselves on being good stewards of our land.” This reframing appeals to Purity/Sanctity and tradition (a moral angle the father can appreciate), while also reassuring that caring for the environment is not a rejection of their way of life but rather an extension of the best parts of it (system-sanctioned change). Suddenly, the father nods in agreement on that point – he can see environmental action as consistent with his values after all. This hypothetical illustrates how recognizing both moral and system-justification dimensions can open up new paths in otherwise stalemated climate debates.
From a broader societal perspective, integrating MFT and SJT helps explain several empirical patterns in climate opinion:
First, these frameworks offer two pathways to climate skepticism. Researchers have identified that resistance to climate science often stems from two moral-political motivations: a strong desire to maintain social order and a strong belief in economic freedom (4). The former aligns with the Authority/Loyalty moral foundations and System Justification (upholding the established order), and the latter aligns with the Liberty moral sentiment (and also with an anti-regulatory, pro-status quo market ideology). Both pathways tend to correlate with conservative worldviews. This means a climate skeptic might be driven by one or both of these deep convictions: “Don’t upend our social/economic system” and/or “Don’t infringe on my freedom with government solutions.” Understanding this can guide more nuanced engagement than simply labeling them “anti-science.”
Second, people’s support or opposition to specific environmental policies can hinge on whether the policy is framed as consistent with their moral matrix. A policy like renewable energy investment might gain conservative support if linked to national pride or job creation, but lose support if seen as merely driven by egalitarian or harm-focused appeals (which they might distrust). Meanwhile, liberals might bristle at an environmental policy framed in terms of religious duty or national greatness, even if they agree with the policy goals, because it doesn’t connect with their dominant moral concerns. In short, the framing of climate solutions can either bridge or widen the moral divide.
Third, when climate topics come up, a person with strong moral conviction (MFT) on the issue will feel that their fundamental sense of right is challenged if someone disagrees. Another person with strong system-justifying instincts will feel their fundamental sense of security and order is challenged by talk of drastic change. Both will experience not just an intellectual disagreement, but an emotional one – leading to the kind of conflicts that split friends and families. Recognizing these underlying drivers can help each side take the disagreement less personally. It’s not that your friend or relative is heartless; they may be unconsciously shielding themselves from a worldview that scares them (a world where the systems they depend on are culpable or must change). Conversely, the resistant person might realize the climate advocate isn’t trying to attack their way of life, but is driven by genuine moral compassion that can be respected even if one disagrees on solutions.
In essence, Moral Foundations Theory and System Justification Theory together paint a picture of climate change attitudes as rooted in identity, values, and psychological needs. People filter the facts of climate change through their value systems (shaped by moral foundations) and through their comfort (or lack thereof) with societal change. This integration moves us beyond the simplistic idea that climate skeptics are “uneducated” or climate believers are “hysterical.” It shows that everyone has reasons that make sense in light of their worldview. Understanding those reasons is crucial if we are to find common ground.
Toward Better Communication and Understanding
For readers feeling exasperated by the lack of climate action and the social rifts it’s causing, the theories above offer not just an explanation but also hopeful strategies. By applying insights from Moral Foundations Theory and System Justification Theory, it’s possible to improve communication and reduce interpersonal conflict over environmental issues. Here are some evidence-based approaches to consider:
First, consider reframing your message to appeal to others’ values. Instead of arguing on your moral terms, try to speak to the values of your audience. If a family member seems unmoved by animal extinctions or global injustice, recognize that these harm-based appeals may not resonate with their moral framework. Consider reframing the issue in terms of loyalty, authority, or purity that they value. For example, talk about protecting your community’s way of life, honoring a faith-based call to stewardship, or keeping your hometown’s water and air clean and pure. Research shows that such moral reframing can significantly increase receptiveness (2, 3). By doing this, you aren’t compromising the truth of the issue—you are connecting it to something they already care about.
Second, emphasize “System-Sanctioned” solutions. To reduce the feeling of threat, frame climate solutions as improvements or continuations of what is good in the current system. Highlight how climate action can bolster the economy, create new jobs and industries, or strengthen national security. When pro-environmental change is seen as patriotic, stabilizing, and supportive of the status quo’s goals, it defangs the defensive reaction (6). For instance, you might discuss how investing in clean energy is the next chapter in your country’s tradition of innovation and leadership. This approach helps someone see that they can support change without betraying the system they trust. It allows them, as one scholar put it, to “still be who you are and agree with me on this” in terms of core identity (3).
Third, seek out common moral ground. Even people with different moral profiles often share some foundational values. Care and fairness might be universal enough if framed appropriately (few people want to harm others unjustly, though they may dispute who counts as harmed or what’s fair). Loyalty can be bridged by defining the in-group broadly (e.g. loyalty to humanity or one’s children’s future). In conversation, try to identify and emphasize any shared concerns. Do you both value responsibility? Perhaps agree that wasting resources is bad (thrift can be a conservative moral sentiment related to purity or stewardship). Starting from a point of agreement can lower defenses and build trust.
Fourth, avoid moralizing and shaming. While climate change is a deeply moral issue for many, moralistic blame can backfire. Telling someone they are immoral or ignorant for not recycling or for doubting climate change will likely trigger defensiveness and further entrenchment (thanks to system justification, they may double-down on justifying their behavior or beliefs). Instead, approach discussions with curiosity and empathy. Ask questions to understand why they hold their view. Often, if you listen for underlying values or fears, you’ll hear something you can relate to (concern for economic security, love of country, etc.). Acknowledge those legitimate concerns before gently introducing your perspective. This can transform a confrontation into a conversation.
Fifth, use stories and examples. Abstract statistics often fail to persuade, especially if they threaten one’s worldview. Personal stories or community examples can be more effective. For instance, rather than citing remote polar ice data, talk about a local farmer adapting to drought, or a neighbor’s solar panels saving them money. If you can connect climate action to individual or local identity (e.g., “as farmers, our family has always respected the land, and that’s why we...”), you merge moral intuition with lived experience, which is harder to dismiss. Such narratives can satisfy both moral emotion and the need to see continuity with the past.
Sixth, practice patience and persistence. Attitude change, especially on charged issues, rarely happens overnight. Recognize that you likely won’t “win” an argument in one sitting. Instead, think of these conversations as planting seeds. Research on difficult social issues (like marriage equality) shows that repeated, empathic conversations over time helped shift public opinion by appealing to values of love and commitment. Likewise, calmly sharing your passion for climate action while respecting the other person’s identity can, over time, humanize the issue. It may chip away at the perception that environmentalism is alien or antagonistic to them. Remember that even if someone doesn’t openly agree, you may have given them food for thought that they will process later. And if nothing else, maintaining the relationship keeps the door open for future understanding.
Finally, it’s encouraging to note that common ground is possible. Surveys show that despite loud polarization, a large majority of people do support many pro-environmental measures when presented without partisan baggage. Depolarizing climate change “doesn’t mean moderating on climate mitigation,” one expert notes, “it just means creating policies that link different morals and values” to the same goal (3). In other words, we don’t have to abandon strong climate action; we have to package and discuss it in inclusive ways. By using Moral Foundations Theory and System Justification Theory as guides, those of us concerned about climate change can become more skillful communicators—able to stand firm in our convictions while also respecting where others are coming from.
Conclusion
Climate change confronts us not only with a planetary challenge but with a human one: how to unite people with very different worldviews to take collective action. Moral Foundations Theory and System Justification Theory together illuminate why this is so hard. They remind us that people’s responses to climate policies are not random or perverse; they flow from deeply held values and psychological needs—whether it’s a moral call to care for the vulnerable, a principled stand for freedom, or a need to defend the familiar world. By understanding these drivers, we can transform frustration into empathy and strategic dialogue. Rather than simply accusing others of ignorance or indifference, we can ask: What values are guiding them? What fears are holding them back? These theories encourage us to meet people where they are, morally and psychologically.
In practical terms, a synthesis of MFT and SJT suggests that bridging the climate divide requires both moral imagination and assurance of belonging. We need to frame climate solutions in a variety of moral languages so more people see their own values reflected, and we need to show that supporting change doesn’t mean betraying one’s group or way of life. This might mean a religious leader talking about creation care, a veteran touting solar panels as energy independence, or a conservative lawmaker pitching climate resilience as preserving the American dream. Such approaches take the fervor for climate action out of its ideological silo and integrate it into the broader tapestry of societal values.
For someone struggling with interpersonal conflict over climate, these insights offer a path forward. Instead of writing off your skeptical relatives or angry coworkers, you can try to understand the moral foundation of their concern (be it loyalty, liberty, or tradition) and the source of their system defensiveness. This doesn’t mean conceding on the facts – it means connecting on the values. It means finding aspects of climate solutions that can be framed as fulfilling their morals, not violating them. By doing so, you respect their identity and lower their defenses, increasing the chance of genuine engagement. Even if agreement isn’t reached overnight, this respectful approach can preserve relationships and keep the conversation going, which is crucial in a time when polarized silence is common (7).
In conclusion, Moral Foundations Theory and System Justification Theory together help explain the full spectrum of psychological responses to climate change – from fervent activism to stubborn denial – and, importantly, they offer clues for healing our divides. Climate inaction need not be a permanent fate of partisan gridlock and broken discourse. By learning to speak to all hearts and soothe existential fears, we can broaden the coalition for environmental action. The climate crisis is a test of our ability to cooperate despite differences. Through understanding and applying these theories, each of us can become a more effective bridge-builder in our families and communities. In a time of great ecological urgency, that skill – to align moral worlds toward a common purpose – may be one of the most important tools we have.
Ultimately, confronting climate change isn’t just about deploying solar panels or drafting legislation; it’s about engaging human nature. When we integrate moral values and the need for system stability into our approach, we honor that human complexity. We create space for former opponents to join the cause without feeling that they must surrender who they are. And in doing so, we increase the odds that our shared future on this planet will be brighter, forged by a truly inclusive and empathetic commitment to change.
