Is this what the climate movement’s been missing?

For more than a century, the fossil fuel industry has told the same story: energy means prosperity, prosperity means stability, stability means a good life. It’s a simple, sticky story. One that’s been woven into the fabric of our society.

Meanwhile, those of us working for a more fair, just future seem to change our language every few years. Global warming. Net zero. Scope 3. Transition. We craft clever messaging, polish talking points, fight misinformation, then wonder why the public conversation still feels like swimming upstream…

An Australian Financial Review piece recently made the point bluntly: “Social licence must be treated as a strategic priority, not an afterthought.” It stuck with me, because that’s exactly what the fossil fuel industry has done for a hundred years — and exactly what climate movements often fail to do.

A story that sticks

The fossil fuel industry hasn’t needed to reinvent itself. Ever. As Drilled noted, their core story — prosperity, security, identity — has remained consistent for generations. Not because it’s true, but because it’s familiar. People trust what they know.

Our story, by contrast, can sound like a policy memo: abstract, complex, distant from daily life. In that gap, misinformation thrives — not because it’s convincing, but because it’s clear and consistent. Because there’s no simple, trusted alternative story to hold on to.

But remember, trust isn’t built in a press release. It’s built in the everyday.

So, how is social licence won?

Look no further than Woodside. In Western Australia, they sponsor Nippers surf lifesaving programs, the Fremantle Dockers, and even have their fingerprints on classroom lesson plans. The company isn’t some distant corporate entity; it’s part of Saturday mornings and school assemblies.

That’s what social licence looks like. It’s quiet and powerful. It doesn’t rely on persuading people to defend their climate record — it makes them part of community identity. Once something is embedded in your community — into your culture — it’s far harder to challenge.

This is where climate movements often falter. We treat engagement as a campaign activity. We show up when there’s something urgent to say. Meanwhile, fossil fuel companies just… show up. All the time. Their presence isn’t conditional. It’s cultural.

The short window problem…

Here’s the catch: they’ve had a century to build that licence. We don’t have that luxury. This is a decisive decade for climate action. So the question isn’t just how to build social licence — it’s how to build it, fast.

That means shifting from messaging to embedding. From reactive comms to presence. From policy language to stories that live in communities.

What building it fast can look like

It starts with finding trusted local entry points — schools, sports clubs, community groups, cultural institutions — and partnering not to deliver a message, but to be part of people’s everyday experience.

It means picking a few simple, resonant ideas and repeating them consistently, not chasing the language of the moment. It means showing up beyond campaign cycles. Sponsoring the local fun run or supporting the school solar program. And it means understanding that belonging beats information every time.

People won’t defend what they only understand. They’ll defend what they feel part of.

Playing our own long game — quickly!

We can’t undo a century of fossil fuel storytelling overnight. But we can learn from it. If they built power through identity and presence, we can too. Our advantage is that we’re offering a future that actually sustains communities — but it needs to feel like it belongs to them.

Social licence isn’t won at election time. It’s earned year-round. And in this critical decade, we can’t afford to treat it as an afterthought.

This decade will be defined not just by the policies we pass, but by the stories we embed. If we want to win, we have to make climate action part of the culture.