Open almost any article about eco-anxiety, and the framing is the same: it's a problem, a pathology, something to be treated or overcome. But that is only half the story. "Probably even the less important half," says Michel Bourban, assistant professor in Environmental Ethics at the University of Twente.
What is eco-anxiety?
Michel studies eco-anxiety, also known as climate anxiety, and his view is clear: "Eco-anxiety is a fitting emotional response to ecological risk. It's based on an accurate understanding of the situation we're in. Ecological problems are already severe, and likely to get worse before they improve." He speaks from experience. "I think it's impossible to study and teach environmental problems without being at least minimally anxious." Michel, who wrote Eco-Anxiety and Ecological Citizenship: Navigating an Ecological Emotion, has been working on these questions for years.
His colleague Barbara Kump, associate professor of Business & Sustainability, recognises that feeling too. "For me, it's more sadness," she says. "Seeing trees dying and many species going extinct gives me a kind of future-oriented grief. We are going to lose things, and we cannot really prevent all of it." As someone who studies how organisations respond to sustainability challenges, she sees this grief reflected in the people she researches as well.
From anxiety to action
That grief, that anxiety, they are not signs that something is wrong with you. Research shows that people who feel eco-anxious tend to want to learn more about environmental risks, and once they know more, they tend to want to act. Michel calls this epistemic behaviour: the urge to understand what's happening and do something about it.
“But anxiety alone doesn't automatically translate into action,” Barbara adds. "It really only motivates if it's paired with a sense that you can actually change something. If you don't believe that, anxiety tips into paralysis." At low to moderate levels, it can be a genuine motivator, but let it spiral too high and the opposite happens: withdrawal, paralysis, even serious mental health consequences.
The real danger, Michel argues, is not anxiety itself but what lies beyond it. The Dutch philosopher Spinoza wrote that there is no hope without fear, and no fear without hope. Michel agrees: "The opposite of hope is not anxiety, it's despair. You're anxious precisely because you still hope things can be different. When that hope disappears entirely, that's the emotion we should really be worried about."
Why your carbon footprint is not the answer
Here's something that might reframe how you think about your own behaviour: the concept of the personal carbon footprint was invented and popularised by BP, the oil company. "BP deliberately shifted the burden and the blame to individuals," says Barbara. "And that has led to enormous amounts of eco-guilt." The problem with guilt, besides being emotionally crushing, is that it doesn't work.
Flying less and eating less meat are meaningful courses of action to reduce one’s individual contribution to climate change and other environmental problems. They can help reducing levels of eco-anxiety. At the same time, individual consumption choices do not automatically lead to changes at the systemic level. This is where the concept of the Green Handprint comes in, a complement to the footprint frame.
In her book The Green Handprint at Work: How to Be an Employee Activist for Sustainability, that she has written together with Babette Brinkmann, Barbara explains: "A handprint is about what you initiate. It shifts the question from 'how do I damage less?' to 'how do I contribute more?' Our aim was to show that everyone can contribute from exactly where they are at their workplaces or communities."
Change happens in community
"There was a technology graduate who joined an energy company and found that nobody there really cared about sustainability," Barbara says. "He started small conversations over lunch. He convinced one or two colleagues. And whenever he had to prepare slides for his manager, he'd quietly slip in a sustainability fact or two. Sometimes they were noticed and kept in, sometimes they were just presented without anyone remarking on them."
It sounds modest, but it is also real. One of the most important insights from both researchers is that change happens through community, not isolation. "Many young people find that their family or friends don't take their emotions seriously," says Michel. "When they manage to connect with like-minded people, through an NGO, a community group or even just classmates or colleagues, that connection itself reduces anxiety."
Every job can be a climate job
There is a trap both researchers are careful to name. Activism can itself become a source of burnout. You swap despair for exhaustion, and neither serves you or the cause. "You are one piece of a very large puzzle," says Barbara. "You can contribute, but you are not required to solve it alone. Think about what you care for and ask yourself how that could be part of the solution. Every job can be a climate job."
"Change is happening," Michel says. "It may not feel sufficient, and it isn't. But many cities are implementing serious mitigation plans. Diets are shifting. Renewable energy is growing faster than most projections. That's worth holding onto." And on eco-anxiety itself? "If you feel it, you're not broken. You're paying attention. The question is just what you do next."
