Communicating Carbon Removal in a Fractured Media Landscape

by Jason Aul

Apr 03, 2026

You can’t persuade someone who doesn’t know you exist. 63% of Americans have heard nothing at all about carbon removal.¹ In reality, that number is almost certainly higher when you factor in how many people often confuse carbon removal with carbon capture, which are two very different things.

Yet, once people learn what carbon removal is, they almost immediately support it. Just from a baseline perspective, we see 65% support for carbon removal policies across party lines.² This is a story of invisibility, not opposition to an idea, and in communications, invisibility is one of the hardest problems to solve, made significantly more difficult in how information sharing has shifted in the last 5+ years.

This is the harsh reality of climate communications in 2026. The traditional mediums through which messages travel has fundamentally collapsed and is currently being rebuilt anew, and climate organizations – particularly those focused on carbon removal – need to reckon with this new reality or risk shouting into a void.

We wrote this with a specific audience in mind. If you work in comms at a climate org, or you’re a CDR developer who’s tired of watching people’s eyes glaze over when you explain what you do, or you’re an advocate trying to make the case to a funder or a Hill staffer… you already know most of what’s in the next section. You’ve lived it. We’re naming it anyway, because the field has a habit of talking around its communications problems instead of through them.

What We’re Actually Up Against

The traditional model of institutional authority, where nonprofits and think tanks publish reports, secure media coverage, and watch understanding spread outward, is broken. Influence has shifted decisively from institutions to personalities, networks, and the algorithms that power them. People are now to curate their own reality and their own facts through social feeds and personalized bubbles. The shared factual foundation that collective action requires is eroding beneath our feet.

Meanwhile, media coverage of climate change and climate action has been declining since 2022, even as climate impacts have intensified and scientific warnings have grown more urgent.³ Editors prioritize geopolitical crises, economic turmoil, and the political fight of the moment. Or, in other words, what is most likely to get the most views. Climate conversations get crowded out. And when it does get coverage, it feels more like the climate field is playing defense.

For carbon removal specifically, we’re working with a blank slate that most people have never encountered, and one that presents an astonishing opportunity for outreach efforts (more on that below). The term “carbon removal” itself barely registers. We’re not fighting entrenched opposition, but for attention in the noisiest information environment in human history.

And then there’s the issue of trust. Trust in scientists remains reasonably high, around 71%.⁴ But trust in politicians on climate? Twenty-three percent, and shrinking every year.⁵ That’s a 48-point gap. People don’t doubt the facts when presented with the science. They doubt the people claiming to act on it – people who have all too many pathways to find our attention.

The Problems Run Deeper Than Messaging

Broadly, climate movement’s narratives have failed to connect with where most people actually are, made more difficult by the current political environment and continued economic uncertainty.

Climate action messaging too often leans heavily on fear and moral urgency, an “apocalyptic framing”. The implicit message can even turn people off to taking action: do the hard work now or everything burns. The urgency is real and the science is clear, however, when fear is the only tone in climate messaging, and when our audiences are regularly pummeled by economic and financial stress, political uncertainty (or worse), and about a thousand other crises demanding their attention, what happens? Disengagement – or worse, backlash.

We’ve also seen the greenwashing-to-greenhushing cycle play out in damaging ways. Companies made loud climate claims, got scrutinized, and went silent. That silence signals that climate action is something to hide, not celebrate.⁶

Carbon removal has one advantage here: it’s still a blank slate. The support we’ve built hasn’t come from slick campaigns and viral messaging, but has been earned through the trust we’ve built – trust through how we center justice by working alongside communities rather than around them.

But that foundation is fragile. Environmental justice communities have legitimate concerns about where infrastructure gets sited, who benefits, and whether this becomes an excuse to keep extracting fossil fuels. The “moral hazard” argument, that carbon removal lets polluters off the hook, remains contentious, and we can’t just wave it away. If we don’t address these concerns head-on, opponents will eventually define the narrative for us.

So What Do We Actually Do?

There’s real reason for hope here, grounded in what’s possible when we get strategic.

First, we have to reframe the conversation from burden to opportunity. Climate action has often been framed as sacrifice: what you give up, what you pay, what you lose. Carbon removal is a different story entirely. It’s not about taking something away from communities, but about building something new, a communal benefit and a public good. Policy centered in equity and justice. Community agency. Jobs. Innovation. American industrial leadership. This framing matters when engaging with any audience.

When we talk about direct air capture (a technological solution for carbon removal), we shouldn’t lead with climate salvation. We should lead with practical problem-solving: managing emissions that can’t be eliminated, creating domestic manufacturing opportunities, positioning the U.S. to lead in an emerging global industry. “Climate change” and “decarbonization” land differently than “equity”, “justice”, “jobs,” “energy security,” and “competitive advantage.”

Second, we need radical transparency. The biggest tool in our arsenal is credibility. That means disclosing methodologies, acknowledging uncertainties, and addressing concerns about permanence and community impact directly. If the CDR field is not transparent, critics could assume we’re hiding something, and they’d be right to assume it.

Third, we have to invest in local storytellers and trusted messengers. Organizations like Carbon180 have high credibility among policymakers and funders when compared to other climate action organizations, but a near-zero name recognition with the general public. We know it takes time to become a household name. But we do need to support the people who can speak to communities in credible, culturally relevant ways.

Our Making Waves initiative is a great example of how to do this the right way. We’re funding community-based organizations in Alaska, Hawaiʻi, and Puerto Rico to explore marine carbon removal on their own terms. Those who actually live and work in these coastal communities (fishermen, Tribal members, residents, etc.) are shaping what responsible deployment looks like. This is reality-based outreach and engagement, and is a force-multiplier for public engagement on CDR.

Fourth, we need to move from alarm to agency. There’s a concept called “hopeful alarm” which means stressing urgency while providing genuine belief that the future can be shaped to address the problems of the present.⁷ It’s how a doctor communicates a serious diagnosis: this is real, this matters, and here’s what we can do. That’s very different from doomsaying.

Another way to tackle this is to remember that facts inform, but stories resonate. Personal stories put real faces and communities behind the statistics and gives people something to connect with emotionally. Solutions journalism, covering what works rather than just what’s broken, has been shown to increase engagement and lead to more sustained action. We need to tell those stories relentlessly.

Finally, equity has to be central, not an afterthought. If carbon removal is going to grow in a real and lasting way, community and environmental justice cannot be treated like an afterthought. They have to be built in from the very beginning. That means talking with communities before key decisions are made, not presenting them with a finished plan once everything is already in motion. This means creating real community benefits with real local investment. Without that, the CDR field will struggle to earn the trust and public support it needs to succeed.

The Opportunity Hidden in the Challenge

The communications landscape in 2026 is harder than it’s ever been. Trust is fractured. Information ecosystems are fragmented. Political discourse has intensified. Media attention has waned.

But carbon removal isn’t fighting an entrenched opposition. It’s competing for attention, and when people learn about it, they support it. The collapse of traditional communication models forces innovation. The retreat of mainstream media opens space for community storytelling. The public’s skepticism of political and corporate claims creates this demand for authentic, transparent voices.

Carbon180 has been doing this work for over a decade. We’ve helped secure billions in federal funding for carbon removal. We’ve built trust with policymakers across party lines. And we’ve stayed committed to a vision where scaling carbon removal doesn’t come at the expense of the communities that host it.

What comes next won’t be about shouting louder. It’ll be about listening, rebuilding trust, and creating spaces where stories can bring people together again.