A new independent film called the People’s Emergency Briefing has been screened more than 1,400 times across the country in recent months. The 50-minute documentary, hosted by TV presenter and environmentalist Chris Packham, reviews and critiques the UK’s handling of the climate and nature crisis. After screenings, prompts given by the local screening host facilitate conversations that encourage the audience to debate and assess action plans among themselves.
Designed to resonate with people who have tuned out of conventional climate messaging, this film stems from the national emergency briefing on climate and nature that was presented to more than 1,200 MPs and influential leaders at Westminster in November 2025.
The film’s hardest job is not making people understand the climate crisis. Agreeing there’s a problem isn’t enough to trigger tangible change. The film’s success depends on leaving viewers feeling mobilised, not passive. There is a risk that in-depth discussions replaces a meaningful emergency response.
At the four screenings we attended (in a punk rock venue, a church hall, a community centre and a university lecture theatre), audiences agreed that someone else – like another generation or politician – should be watching this. This repetition from viewers to “inform the masses” shifts the call to action from active participation to passive viewership. It’s not about what was viewed, but who was present.
This predictable response is not a failure of the film, rather an outcome of how the public reacts to this type of information. Understanding why it happens is more important than assigning blame.
Through a series of vignettes, the film guides the audience along high-level issues from various positions: ecological, health, security and economy.
Read more: What we told UK leaders about climate and nature at a national emergency briefing
The film is designed to change behaviour. It turns a distant, unseen threat into something tangible, concrete and nearby. People respond to specific and visible stimuli, not the wide-angle abstraction of climate change. For example, the film shows a graph of spikes in carbon dioxide concentrations since the industrial revolution. This highlights how the stable climate that has allowed civilisation to flourish is quickly untangling.
There’s precedent for visualisation leading to shifts in policy promoting positive environmental action. The gruesome removal of a plastic straw from a turtle’s nose inspired retailers to switch to paper straws, a bottom-up approach which led to formalised legislation.
On a much larger scale, images of a growing hole in the ozone layer over Antarctica used in the media helped make an abstract chemistry problem more relatable to the public. Growing awareness of the problem led to the fastest introduction of an environmental treaty in history, the 1987 Montreal protocol, which phased out the chemicals destroying the ozone layer, putting it on a path to recovery.
People act when they have the tools to do something, a genuine chance to do it and a reason that motivates them.
The film gives people clear, digestible information about the crisis. Structured discussion that follows every screening can motivate viewers if the tone is deliberately hopeful rather than despairing.
In one example from the film, economist Angela Francis outlines the staggering financial benefits of transitioning to net zero. She highlights that the narrative of net zero’s financial burden is driven by those who stand to lose the most, the fossil fuel industry itself.
In another, Lt General Richard Nugee, reports that when farmers are economically burdened they can be recruited by terrorist organisations, which in turn effects food prices for the UK citizen. To make Britian safer, if the government improves legistation for clean energy, the country belong less reiliant on foregin oil.
The blame game
The gap between what the film encourages and what audiences actually do is a form of moral licensing. Watching the film and joining the discussion can serve as a symbolic moral act, allowing viewers to feel engaged without making real behaviour changes. People are drawn to defend approaches that are familiar to their beliefs, as these values feel more stable, safe and predictable than change.
In a climate context, this means some people justify high-impact decisions by relying on their previous eco-friendly actions.
The film shows eco-conscious parents recognising their environmental footprint and accepting extreme heat – yet they insist their own children deserve energy-intensive air conditioning. This mindset reinforces the very patterns the film aims to challenge. We need to look beyond the solutions we have always depended on, and approach the issue with a wider systematic mindset – that hinges on stopping doing what we have always done while expecting a different result.
Read more: The UK’s year of climate U-turns exposes a deeper failure
The film suggests solutions like contacting MPs to improve environmental laws, but unintentionally shifts blame away from viewers to external entities. This displacement allows viewers to recognise their role in the crisis while implying that action lies with others, enabling them to feel somewhat accountable without compromising their sense of identity. Essentially, they think, “I am part of the solution because I am informed.”
In the screenings we attended, discussions frequently descended into debates over who should take action, resulting in a lack of personal commitments or consensus. This demonstrates that merely bringing people together does not address generational resentment. In fact, it can often intensify it. To effectively transition from talk to action, there needs to be a definitive next step that yields tangible results, rather than just good intentions.
Global action
Policy-based solutions are far more complex than shifts in personal lifestyle or community-based action. Any policy changes are often dictated by economic incentive and a tendency for short-term solutions in line with voting cycles. The Montreal protocol succeeded not because nations were concerned about the ozone layer, but because the cost-benefit lined up.
In contrast, the Kyoto protocol, a landmark treaty introduced in 1997 by the UN, stalled largely because it placed legally binding cuts to greenhouse gas emissions on developed nations but not on developing ones. This led to several major emitters dropping out of the agreement, mostly due to the perceived net loss of participation.
Meanwhile the UN’s Paris climate agreement softened the ask even more: suggesting nations volunteer pledges, on the assumption that peer pressure is a substitute for personal gain. Now, parties are falling short of even their own modest targets, with little sign that reputational pressure can close the gap.
That’s moral licensing at the treaty level: pledging substitutes for stronger commitments. At the community level, goodwill isn’t enough without structural support, like a council commitment or visible local stakes, to drive real change.
This begs the question, what can you do? To start, you should go see the film. Bring your friends, tell your neighbour and write to your MP. When the conversation starts, try exploring solutions that take you out of your comfort zone, and redirect any mention of blame towards actionable suggestions.
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