The Shift with Christiana Figueres: Popular culture and inner work as catalysts for hope and change
What we watch, listen to, and experience every day shapes more than our taste—it shapes our world. In The Shift, UN Live’s thought leaders explore how music, art, media, and even everyday spaces—from stadiums to dinner tables—become stages for stories that connect us, inspire empathy, and spark collective action. In today’s Q&A, Katja Iversen, UN Live CEO speaks with Christiana Figueres, global climate leader, as she shares how inner grounding and empathy can be powerful tools in climate leadership.
It’s time to rethink—and imagine the futures we want to create.
A conversation with Christiana Figueres and Katja Iversen.
Q: You’ve guided the world through some of its most complex climate negotiations, yet it has often been described as both strategic and deeply human. How has your own inner life—values, spirituality, or personal reflection—shaped the way you approach climate action and leadership?
A: My approach to climate leadership has long been grounded in inner work. As a child in Costa Rica, I fell in love with the golden toads of Monteverde—bright flashes of life that later vanished as the forest floor warmed. Their extinction became both wound and compass in my life. Over time, I learned that the outer work of transformation cannot be sustained without inner grounding. In other words, systems change is ironically deeply personal. In negotiations, I often found that progress depends somewhat on technical detail, but more importantly it is affected by the capacity to listen, to respect, and to invite others to imagine a shared future. My practice of mindfulness has taught me that even in the toughest moments, the other person across the table carries their own fears and hopes. Approaching them with an open heart and open mind did not weaken a possible outcome—it strengthened it, because it created space for trust. Leadership, then, is not controlling outcomes but creating the conditions where collective wisdom can emerge. Ultimately, my inner life has taught me that we are not separate from each other or from the Earth. That awareness fostered my commitment to build agreements not just as contracts between governments or corporations, but as covenants of care among people and with the planet itself.
Q: Climate change can feel overwhelming and distant to many people. How do you see the role of storytelling, culture, and creative expression in helping individuals feel both the urgency and their own agency to act?
A: Facts alone rarely, if ever, move people. Climate change is not just a scientific curve; it is the story of who we are and above all, who we choose to be. Storytelling, culture, and creative expression bridge the gap between abstract numbers and lived experience. A song, a film, or a painting can carry urgency more powerfully than a chart ever could. But beyond urgency, culture carries agency. When people see their values and daily lives reflected in climate narratives, it ceases to be distant—it becomes theirs. Creative expression invites people not as bystanders but as protagonists. I’ve seen this in Indigenous songs carrying ancestral wisdom, in youth poetry demanding justice, in films that bring climate realities into our homes. These stories remind us that solutions are not only technical but cultural and relational. The challenge is to weave a new narrative of possibility—one where caring for Earth is not a sacrifice but joy; not a burden, but the expression of our deepest humanity.
Q: In initiatives like Mission 2025 and your recent work to scale climate finance for vulnerable countries, collaboration across governments, businesses, and communities is key. How do you bring empathy and shared vision into these highly technical and high-stakes processes? Are there spiritual or ethical principles that guide how you cultivate these connections, even in moments of disagreement or tension?
A: In climate negotiations, technical expertise is essential but never sufficient. At the front of every negotiation there is a human being, and behind every model or policy is a community that will feel its impact. Empathy must therefore be at the table, not as sentiment but as commitment. Shared vision is built by listening—truly listening—to the fears and hopes of others. For me, Buddhist practice has been an anchor: the principle of interbeing reminds me that none of us stands alone. If we fail the most vulnerable, we fail ourselves. This principle guided Mission 2025 and my work on climate finance, understanding that collaboration is not charity but mutual survival. In practice, that means ensuring all voices—small islands, investors, civil society—see their concerns reflected in the outcome. Disagreement is inevitable, but it need not fracture trust. When held with patience and respect, tension can yield deeper clarity. Empathy is not a soft skill—it is a discipline. It requires us to stay present in discomfort, keep the human face visible amid technical detail, and remember the ethical truth: we are all in this together.
Q: At UN Live we seek to amplify and harness culture as a force for driving empathy and collective action. Looking at your experiences, how do you think popular culture platforms can inspire people, not only to care about the planet, but to take concrete action in ways that feel meaningful and connected?
A: Popular culture has extraordinary reach—it shapes what we aspire to, normalize, and celebrate. If culture can make us crave a new brand of shoes, it can make us crave a livable planet. Platforms like UN Live can translate climate action into the universal languages of music, film, sport, and gaming—spaces where billions already find meaning. But the key is to go beyond awareness into action. A concert that celebrates Earth can also invite audiences to adopt plant-rich diets, support frontline communities, or advocate for policy change. A streaming platform can embed climate choices into the very fabric of its storytelling. The most powerful cultural interventions don’t just say “care”—they show what caring looks like in daily life. In my experience, people long to act when action is framed as caring and belonging, not obligation. Popular culture can create that belonging at scale. It can tell us: you are not alone, you are part of a global chorus, and your voice matters. When culture shifts, politics and markets follow.
Q: Many of your public reflections touch on hope as a radical practice. How do you personally sustain hope while facing global crises, and how can that practice of hope be shared through culture, art, or storytelling to inspire others?
A: Hope, for me, is not naïve optimism. It is a deliberate commitment to face challenges and transform them into agency. Every morning I recommit to it, because without hope we cannot act. Hope is not the guarantee of success, but the commitment to try our utmost. It is radical because it defies the cynicism that paralyzes. Personally, I sustain hope through three practices: gratitude, connection, and perspective. Gratitude roots me in the miracle of life. Connection reminds me we do not carry this burden alone—we are upheld by countless others. And history shows that change often feels impossible until suddenly it becomes inevitable. Through culture, art, and storytelling, this radical hope can be contagious. A song that lifts our spirits, a mural that depicts resilience, a film that imagines justice—all remind us despair is not the only lens. When hope is practiced collectively, it becomes unstoppable. That is the alchemy we need now: turning pain into purpose, and despair into determination.
We extend our sincere gratitude to Christiana Figueres for sharing her wisdom and insights on how we can build a world rooted in empathy—with each other and the planet.