Is Our Climate Crisis Really a Crisis of Imagination?
We talk a lot about carbon, politics, infrastructure, and economics when it comes to the climate crisis. But there’s another factor that might be just as important, and often overlooked. One that shapes what we build, what we believe is possible, and whether we can even picture the world we’re trying to save. Imagination.
From Jules Verne to Climate Tech
This thought came to me during a conversation with my sister, who had just attended Le Voyage Extraordinaire de Jules Verne, an immersive show in Paris recounting the life and work of one of science fiction’s greatest minds.
Jules Verne wasn’t just an author - he was a visionary. He imagined submarines before they existed, visualised what would become televised news, predicted climate displacement, and even described something eerily close to the internet, long before it was technologically feasible.
And yet, his influence wasn’t in building these technologies himself. It was in dreaming them up so vividly that future generations could imagine building them.
Which led me to wonder:
How much of what we choose to invent (what we prioritise and pour our energy into) is rooted in the futures we believe are possible?
What We’re Failing to Dream
When it comes to sustainability and climate action, it feels like we’re collectively struggling to imagine futures worth building.
Yes, we’re aware of the stakes. The science is clear. But the stories we’re told (over and over) are dominated by collapse. Sea level rise, ecosystem breakdown, irreversible tipping points. It’s not that these stories aren’t true. But their exclusivity in the narrative landscape has a psychological effect.
This endless repetition of dystopia quietly sinks into our collective unconscious. It numbs our hope. It shrinks our capacity to even see or assess potential solutions. It paralyses us.
And in that paralysis, we turn away. We tune out. Climate becomes something too heavy to look at directly, let alone act on.
We Need New Utopias (Yes, Really)
A.I. Generated Image Showing My Utopia - Valentine Aouad
This isn’t a call for blind optimism. It’s a call for visionary imagination - something between naïve hope and apocalyptic realism.
We need new utopias. Not flawless fantasies. But living, breathing visions of what life could feel like if sustainability were not a limitation on innovation, but the very foundation of it.
Right now, the climate conversation often feels caught between two extremes:
One that urges us to scale back, consume less, slow down, and even dismantle parts of the economic systems we rely on.
Another who believes humans are wired to grow, reach, create, and expand—and that “progress” means moving fast and building big.
And while both hold some truth, we haven’t yet done the imaginative work of reconciling them into a shared, desirable future.
A Third Path?
Is it possible to dream of a world that is both sustainable and full of wonder, curiosity, and abundance?
Not abundance in the extractive sense, but in a way that overflows with meaning, creativity, beauty, and care?
Can we imagine cities, technologies, systems, and lifestyles that regenerate rather than deplete - where art, science, nature, and equity are not separate efforts, but part of the same design?
Because if imagination is what has always propelled us to reach beyond what was thought possible, then maybe one of the most powerful climate tools we have today is to dream again. And to dream differently.
So, What’s Your Utopia?
This is the question I’m sitting with, and maybe you are too:
What is the utopia you are quietly holding onto?
And what would it take to bring it into the conversation, not as an escape, but as a blueprint for what comes next?