Human stories behind climate data and statistics

Why facts alone won’t save the planet When I think about what makes someone care about the natural world, it rarely begins with statistics or graphs. It begins with a moment. For me, it was an encounter I had at age 12 with frogs in an Indigenous community in the Ecuadorian Amazon (https://lnkd.in/g882Ui8X fascination that turned to urgency when I later read about an oil spill near where I had stayed. Since then, I’ve come to believe that connection, not just information, is what stirs people to act. During a recent conversation with Jessica Morgenthal for her Resilience Gone Wild podcast (https://lnkd.in/gpsw-B7i), we spoke about that idea: how empathy for one being can lead to concern for an entire ecosystem. When people talk about “a herd of gazelles,” it’s abstract. But tell the story of one gazelle—its habits, its struggle to survive—and suddenly it matters. We often relate most to individuals, not collectives. The same is true for human stories of conservation. When Mongabay reported on a community in Gabon fighting to protect its forest, it wasn’t primarily the data that moved the environment minister to intervene—it was meeting the people whose lives were entwined with those trees and realizing how their stewardship sustained a healthy and productive system. I’ve found that even the smallest connections can shift perspective. When snorkeling, I sometimes encounter a fish that swims beside me and seems to remember me when I revisit the site the next day. We don’t share language or biology, yet there’s an unmistakable recognition. If we can connect with a fish (https://lnkd.in/gxz9fJtd), surely we can connect with one another. That belief has shaped my journalism. Facts establish credibility, but stories create meaning. In a world where trust in science and media has increasingly faltered among many audiences, storytelling offers a bridge—a way to make people feel before they analyze. The same principle applies beyond conservation. Whether we’re talking about communities, politics, or technology, change begins with empathy. We don’t protect what we don’t love, and we don’t love what we don’t understand. The task, then, is to help people see the world as alive, particular, and personal—and to remember that even one small connection can open the door to care.

Imagine standing on a mountaintop in the Carpathian Mountains of Romania, one of Europe’s wildest and most breathtaking regions. The view stretches endlessly—rolling forests, deep valleys, and a sense of timelessness. But what truly makes this place remarkable isn’t just the landscape—it’s the people. Last year I had the privilege of spending time with a community of Romanian shepherds, people who live and breathe this land every single day. Their lives revolve around the rhythm of the mountains, their sheep, and the changing seasons. For generations, they have managed livestock in harmony with nature, preserving biodiversity without fanfare. They don’t call it ‘rewilding’ or ‘conservation’—it’s simply their way of life. Yet, this way of life is deeply fragile. In the entire expanse of the Carpathian Mountains, there is no formal climate research taking place. None. These shepherds, who observe the land so intimately, are our only reliable witnesses to the subtle changes taking place: shorter winters, lower spring water levels, dwindling grass in the valleys. One shepherd shared how he is forced to drive his flock earlier into the mountains, higher into the alpine meadows, despite the lingering wintery conditions there. Their knowledge isn’t written down. It’s not captured in data sets or headlines. It’s stored in the rhythm of their daily lives, passed down through generations. And if we don’t take the time to listen—truly listen—it risks being lost forever. These lived experiences provide invaluable insights into the impacts of climate change, the kind of insights that data alone can’t reveal. They remind us of what’s at stake, not just for these communities, but for all of us. The question is: are we listening? Photos by Jasper Doest #onassignment for National Geographic in #Romania #rewilding #rewild #CarpathianMountains #ClimateChange #Shepherds #TraditionalKnowledge #Biodiversity #Sustainability #Storytelling #ConservationMatters

Many data analysts approach data storytelling as a numbers game - they simply analyze trends, patterns & statistics, draw conclusions based on findings and educated guesses, provide a basic CTA, and call it a day. At a glance, it might look like a solid approach, but the real strength of a data story often comes not just from basic analysis of raw data, but also from sources that data alone cannot reveal. I’m talking about PEOPLE. Behind every dataset there are real people whose behaviors, choices, and experiences shape the numbers we see. In order for you to gain real insight , the first step is to identify the “heroes” of your data story - the people whose actions drive the data and those who have the power to change it. These could be customers, employees or even patients, and speaking with them directly can reveal completely unexpected insights, motivations, or unspoken challenges that numbers alone would never expose. For instance:  👉 Data may show that online sales are underperforming compared to physical store sales, mainly due to a high rate of abandoned shopping carts during checkout. While there may be lots of technical explanations around it, directly speaking to the customers reveal that issues like high shipping costs, complicated checkout process, or payment security concerns are the real barriers for them. Now, I understand you may not always have direct interaction or feedback from the people behind the data, but when the opportunity arises, please do seek it, whether directly or indirectly. This is important because, when a data story is centred around real people, it creates emotional connections, and makes the message more compelling and encourages action. And it’s this “human impact” of the data that will resonate with the management and make them feel more engaged and invested in finding a solution. 

𝗪𝗵𝘆 𝗜 𝗗𝗶𝗱𝗻’𝘁 𝗩𝗶𝘀𝘂𝗮𝗹𝗶𝘀𝗲 𝗡𝘂𝗺𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗰𝗮𝗹 𝗗𝗮𝘁𝗮 𝗶𝗻 𝗠𝘆 𝗡𝗲𝘄 𝗔𝘂𝗱𝗶𝗼𝘃𝗶𝘀𝘂𝗮𝗹 𝗜𝗻𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗹𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 In data design, one principle guides me: “𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘃𝗼𝗶𝗰𝗲 𝗶𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗺𝗼𝘀𝘁 𝗵𝘂𝗺𝗮𝗻 𝗱𝗮𝘁𝗮 𝘄𝗲 𝗽𝗼𝘀𝘀𝗲𝘀𝘀.” This truth feels especially poignant in a world where so many voices are being silenced by war and conflict. In projects like Frequencies of Belonging (https://lnkd.in/d6GkCGvz), design stops being just about aesthetics – it becomes an act of listening. This immersive installation turns more than a hundred personal voice recordings into a living soundscape of what “home” means. It weaves individual memories into a collective story – almost a unified cry for belonging and peace. In a world where wars and conflicts have silenced so many voices and forced millions of people from their homes, seeing those voices come alive through data visualisation techniques is incredibly powerful. It reminds me that behind every data point is a real human story, waiting to be heard. 𝗪𝗵𝘆 𝗱𝗼𝗲𝘀 𝘀𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱 𝗺𝗮𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗶𝗻 𝗱𝗮𝘁𝗮 𝗱𝗲𝘀𝗶𝗴𝗻? Here are a few key reasons: ▪️ 𝗘𝗺𝗼𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 & 𝗔𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗶𝗰𝗶𝘁𝘆: A human voice carries tone, emotion, and personality that no spreadsheet can capture. By listening to the data (literally), we retain its authentic soul and nuance. ▪️ 𝗘𝗺𝗽𝗮𝘁𝗵𝘆 𝗶𝗻 𝗗𝗲𝘀𝗶𝗴𝗻: Starting with sound helps us design with empathy. It ensures the final visualisation resonates with lived experiences and feelings of those behind the data, instead of being a sterile graphic. ▪️ 𝗜𝗺𝗺𝗲𝗿𝘀𝗶𝘃𝗲 𝗦𝘁𝗼𝗿𝘆𝘁𝗲𝗹𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗴: Integrating audio or insights from sound can turn a static visualisation into an immersive story. Sound engages additional senses, making the experience more memorable and impactful. In an age of information overload, simply visualising data isn’t enough; we need to 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭 it too. That’s why I often resist the urge to “clean up” audio or remove its irregularities. Instead, I let the pauses, accents, and cracks remain – because those imperfections are where the real story lives. Perhaps today data design is exactly that: a space for 𝘷𝘪𝘴𝘶𝘢𝘭 𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨, where our role as designers is to amplify voices, not flatten them. I dive deeper into this perspective in my latest Substack article, 𝘓𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘉𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘝𝘪𝘴𝘶𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨: 𝘞𝘩𝘺 𝘚𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘔𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘋𝘢𝘵𝘢 𝘋𝘦𝘴𝘪𝘨𝘯. If this message resonates with you, I invite you to read the full article and share your thoughts: 𝗥𝗲𝗮𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗳𝘂𝗹𝗹 𝗮𝗿𝘁𝗶𝗰𝗹𝗲 𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲: https://lnkd.in/dnhABZwa Happy Italian Liberation Day 🇮🇹 #datadesign #datavisualization #sounddesign #empathy #creativeleadership