Wouldn’t it be ideal if we could stop the further disruption of ecosystems through small behavioral changes? These kinds of social tipping points are appealing—but do they actually exist? 

Currently, there are nine places on Earth where sleeping giants are stirring. These are the terrifying tipping points. Most are well-known: the collapse of coral reefs, the halting of the Atlantic Ocean’s current, the disappearance of the Amazon rainforest. Some of these giants may already be awake, while others are on the verge of awakening. Some scientists believe certain tipping points, such as the loss of coral reefs, can no longer be stopped. 

Such a tipping point pushes an ecosystem into a fundamentally different state in a short time. Irreversible. Take the melting of the Greenland ice sheet. Once melted, you won’t get it back—at least not for a very long time. Not even if temperatures were to suddenly drop again after the fact. What’s more, various tipping points can reinforce each other once triggered—a nightmare scenario. 

Scientists often use the example of a marble sitting in the dip of a curve. In that dip, the ecosystem is stable: the ice sheet lies firmly on Greenland’s bedrock and isn’t bothered by minor temperature fluctuations. One year might differ slightly from another, but the equilibrium remains. You’d have to give the marble a strong push to move it out of that dip and into another—i.e., to a new equilibrium. That doesn’t just happen. Unless temperatures rise significantly in a short time. Due to global warming, one of the upward slopes of that curve flattens more and more, until it becomes a horizontal line. At that point, the marble can suddenly roll away into the next valley: the tipping point has been reached. 

Ten water molecules are just ten separate molecules—but once a critical threshold is crossed, they become a liquid. Physicists call this a phase transition. This kind of transition is marked by the adage coined by P.W. Anderson in 1972: “More is different.” The whole isn’t merely the sum of its parts, as is often claimed—it’s entirely different from the sum of its parts. A tipping point precedes such a phase transition and is often difficult to pinpoint. It is a hypersensitive moment, crossing which changes everything. 

These tipping points are so unpredictable that they aren’t even included in the future scenarios of the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC), even though warnings are issued about them. Timothy Lenton, chair of Climate Change and Earth System Science at the University of Exeter, has long studied tipping points. In 2019, he urged politicians, economists, and scientists to take tipping points far more seriously than they had. “The evidence is mounting that these tipping points are more likely than previously assumed, that they have a high impact, and that they’re interconnected through various biophysical systems—potentially committing the world to long-term irreversible changes,” he wrote in Nature. 

Five years later, the threat remains just as grave. 

Because I often lie awake thinking about these nine giants, I’m heartened to learn from scientists like Lenton that there are also so-called positive tipping points. These are social, technological, and/or economic processes that can reinforce one another, pushing the marble of our current fossil-fueled system into a better valley: a gentler one of circular sustainability. And we are the solution. Not we as individuals added together—but we as a collective, humanity as a force of nature. 

A key role is played by shifts in norms and behavior. We know countless examples. Forty years ago, it was completely normal for schoolchildren to mold an ashtray from clay as a Mother’s Day gift. Every living room had an ashtray—even in non-smoking households—as a courtesy. Today, even the most committed smoker smokes outside, apologizing profusely if the smoke drifts into someone’s face. Slavery was abolished, women got the vote, same-sex couples can marry in many places. Social norm changes can take a long time—and then, with a small spark, shift relatively quickly. 

This gives hope to Jan-Willem Bolderdijk, professor of sustainability and marketing at the University of Amsterdam: “There are quite a few examples of nonlinear social change and positive feedback loops.” A textbook case is the Black Lives Matter movement. “Such views were ignored for a long time. But suddenly, the ideas went viral, and it quickly became unacceptable not to speak out.” 

Bolderdijk sees the same with the activism of Kick Out Zwarte Piet. “At first, you were seen as a nag if you talked about the racism of Zwarte Piet, but now in many circles—especially in big cities—it’s not done to defend it.” Institutions play a big role here. “When the Sinterklaas Journal decided to stop showing Zwarte Pieten, the snowball started rolling—and there was no turning back.” 

After such a tipping point, there’s often a group that reacts against the new norm. Think of neoconservative tradwives baking cookies on social media or opponents of the transgender law stoking fear about gender-neutral bathrooms. 

“Right before a tipping point, you also see that early adopters of new behaviors—like vegans—can evoke intense irritation,” says Bolderdijk. Yet this social friction is a necessary part of change. In a recent paper on so-called moralized change, the authors (including Bolderdijk) emphasize that because certain behaviors (like flying for holidays or eating meat) have become moralized, social friction is the logical consequence of a shift in norms. “Everyone wants to see themselves as a good person. Pioneers of new behavior can therefore evoke mixed reactions. It holds up a mirror: ‘I could have done that too.’ And that’s uncomfortable.” 

While norm changes around flying and meat consumption haven’t yet triggered mass behavioral shifts, Bolderdijk believes there’s much broader support for drastic government intervention. “A lot of people do want change—but they see that the government needs to act to make that possible.” 

The fact remains: such government measures haven’t (yet) been taken, and widespread behavioral change in response to potential social tipping points is still lacking. A recent report from the Dutch Environmental Assessment Agency indirectly underscored the importance of such change: if the Dutch continue flying, eating meat, and consuming at current levels, then dramatic and controversial measures will be required to make the Netherlands climate-neutral by 2050. 

Depending on the newspaper you read, this was presented as either good or bad news. But it didn’t exactly exude confidence in the possibility of behavioral change. 

Sometimes I wonder whether the idea of social tipping points as a grand solution might just be wishful thinking. Are they comforting straws to clutch at—or do they really exist? 

In a video interview, Manjana Milkoreit, postdoctoral researcher in sociology and human geography at the University of Oslo, shares her reservations. She understands the concept’s appeal: “It’s a nice alternative to the dominant, yet problematic, narrative of gradual change—linear steps over short time spans.” 

This idea underpins IPCC scenarios, predictable funding flows, and projections for renewable energy growth. But linear models can’t grasp the complexity of reality, especially when human behavior is involved. Think of the sudden spike in COVID infections, the unforeseen boom in solar and wind energy, or the potential for radical social and economic shifts. “The concept of social tipping introduces an important alternative—and is a useful addition to the social sciences toolkit.” It also offers hope—and that’s something everyone needs. 

Still, we should be cautious, Milkoreit warns. “There’s very limited evidence for the existence of social tipping points, and we have no clear examples of them occurring. At least not in terms of norm change.” 

Timothy Lenton stresses that tipping points involve more than just behavioral change. They’re also social, technological, and economic processes that interact to shift an entire system. Lenton is one of the founding thinkers behind the idea of physical and social tipping points. He is deeply concerned about physical ones—but appears cheerful during our video call. “I consider myself a conditional optimist.” 

Just before our call, Lenton submitted the manuscript for his new book on social tipping points (due in 2025). “The development of wind energy in Denmark is an example of such a positive tipping point. As early as the late ’70s, the Danish government promoted wind energy—for instance, by covering 30% of wind turbine construction costs and sharing revenues with nearby residents. That prevented the typical NIMBY reactions. At the time, wind was just a tiny part of the energy market, but thanks to innovation and entrepreneurship, Denmark now offers incredibly cheap wind power.” 

No one had anticipated the energy system’s complexity, where reinforcing effects can make growth initially slow—and then suddenly exponential. 

“That Danish wind development triggered another tipping point: the rise of electric vehicles in Norway,” Lenton continues. “Do you know the story of the Norwegian pop band A-ha? In 1989, Norway claimed to support sustainable development on paper—but remained a major oil producer. A-ha challenged the government and campaigned for years. This pressure led to incentives to transition from gasoline to electric cars. In 2010, boom—suddenly there was significant market share and supporting policies, making EVs beat gas cars.” 

As EV prices fall, more people buy them. That gives manufacturers economies of scale—lowering prices further and spurring innovation. More charging stations are built, infrastructure improves—leading even more people to buy EVs. Voilà: your first positive feedback loop. 

The same applies in reverse. Fossil fuel subsidies make gasoline cars more attractive, reinforcing the old system. These negative feedback loops dampen the positive ones. But once EVs dominate and we reach a lock-in, it’s hard to go back. 

Lenton cites these examples because they’re seen as “real” social tipping points. But even these are open to debate. Milkoreit again: “A tipping point implies a fundamental reorganization of a social system into a different, stable state. The Amazon could tip from rainforest to grassland. Fortunately, such natural tipping points are rare—but when they happen, they’re fast and irreversible due to self-reinforcing mechanisms. But with new technology, it’s unclear whether the system has truly reconfigured. Sure, we have EVs—but we still have cars. It changes supply chains and materials, yes—but the roads remain, and so do consumption patterns. Is that a tipping point comparable to the Amazon turning into grassland? How fundamental is this change?” 

Another problem is that tipping points often allow for multiple equilibria, says Rick van der Ploeg, professor of economics at Oxford University and Vrije Universiteit, and former Dutch State Secretary for Culture. “That’s why it’s more important to offer a clear vision of the future—setting expectations. Decisions to invest green depend partly on what people believe about future production and consumption. If everyone assumes the world will stay the same, it likely will. But if green production and demand increase, change can accelerate. We need a big push to move from a dirty to a clean equilibrium. Governments must signal direction and provide generous, temporary subsidies.” 

To Van der Ploeg, social tipping points are “the flavor of the week.” He notes how much research looks backward—but has limited predictive power. And he finds the lack of empirical support “disappointing.” 

While Bolderdijk highlights social friction as an inevitable and necessary outcome of moralized behavioral change, that same friction can also lead to dangerous polarization. Van der Ploeg: “The result might just as well be one group going full woke and the other becoming deeply conservative. The social tipping literature usually overlooks this total polarization—but the risk is real.” He’s especially worried about “norm erosion—how people are increasingly trapped in their own echo chambers. That’s another kind of bifurcation—and arguably the biggest societal risk we face.” 

A major push could bring about a social tipping point and a greener equilibrium. Bolderdijk believes there’s more support for such a push than most assume: “We tend to resign ourselves to how the system works. That’s what I keep hammering on: stop assuming that. Ask people what they actually want. You’ll be surprised. In the Netherlands, for instance, there’s strong support for banning short flights within Europe. The problem is that we still operate under the hyper-rational economic model. But people aren’t purely rational or consistent. Preferences can’t be read from behavior alone.” 

Social activism can help build support for that big push. 

Extinction Rebellion (XR) explicitly references social tipping points in its long-term strategy. “In the classical system, linearity is the norm—I call it billiard-ball logic,” says Chris Julien, PhD candidate at Utrecht University, senior research fellow at Waag Futurelab, and XR Netherlands spokesperson. “One billiard ball hits another—cause and effect are always one-to-one. If you see yourself as one of those balls, it’s pretty hopeless. Everyday Activism (the title of the book Julien is writing) is really a search for how social tipping points can shift society.” 

At XR’s founding, the idea was that you needed 3.5% of the population to create a social tipping point—a figure from a Harvard study. But that study applied to nonviolent uprisings in mainly authoritarian regimes. “That 3.5% figure motivated people,” says Julien. “It gave the movement confidence to take things further and break norms. But the number has since been let go. It’s more about leverage—applying pressure at small, strategic points. XR, for example, targets fossil subsidies because they undermine the fossil industry’s social license to operate.” 

Activists also exert strong pressure in small places through other actions. Take the campaign ‘Concerned Beavers’: Fossil Free NL urged outdoor retailer Beversport to reconsider its relationship with ING Bank, because ING in turn invests in the fossil fuel industry. “Beversport’s business model is built around a love for nature. That’s why the group asked them to start a conversation with ING. That happened, and it really was a mini tipping point. It works like a kind of matryoshka doll, where systems are nested within larger systems. By starting with the smallest doll, you can make a lot of progress.” 

Several studies have now been conducted on the so-called critical threshold at which public opinion in a group can shift. Depending on the issue, that percentage typically lies somewhere between 25 and 40. The exact number might not be that important, thinks Julien. “You just feel it. If you watch Trump speak, you understand that he intuitively has a very good grasp of what a tipping point strategy looks like. Trump isn’t speaking to me, but to his base. The same goes for the so-called asylum and migration crisis in the Netherlands. The key was to find a very small point from which to shift the entire narrative. I don’t agree with it, but it is clever.” 

The question keeps nagging: what exactly is a social tipping point? And does it even matter when it comes to what you're trying to achieve? 

“Maybe not,” says Manjana Milkoreit. “In the end, it’s about a desired acceleration in social change. And that’s urgently needed. With tipping points, this acceleration happens through positive self-reinforcing mechanisms. Assuming those mechanisms do exist, we mustn’t forget that there are always also negative self-reinforcing mechanisms that try to keep the system in place. That’s true for physical systems, but even more so for social systems. After all, societal institutions in social systems always create a certain stability and often act as dampers. That’s why social systems may be less sensitive to tipping—maybe even more robust—and therefore harder to shift into a fundamentally different state.” 

Another issue Milkoreit identifies—like Rick van der Ploeg—is the challenge of finding empirical evidence for a social tipping point. “This is relatively new ground in the social sciences. We’re trying to understand these mechanisms and to see whether we can intentionally set such changes in motion. At the moment, we don’t have any empirical research on this. To properly study a social tipping point in practice, you’d need to collect social data over a long period of time. But no one is going to fund that.” 

Milkoreit doesn’t want to throw cold water on hopeful thinking, but she believes there are risks to too eagerly embracing this new concept. “Even if it were truly possible to force a social tipping point, it could still have unintended effects.” 

Even if the net result of a new equilibrium were reduced or zero emissions, that says nothing, for instance, about the justice of that new equilibrium. “The enthusiasm in a time when we feel we’re in a race against the clock has led to this idea that nonlinear solutions are going to save us. Especially among policymakers, there’s sometimes talk as if they can just pull a rabbit out of a hat. But there are no simple solutions, even though the way we talk about them now sometimes suggests otherwise.” 

Author: Sanne Bloemink 

Published in De Groene Amsterdammer on June 12, 2024. Translated by the Institute for Advanced Study.