Why Climate Tech Must Get Gen Z — and How to Build for Meaning, Not Just Metrics

If you're building in climate tech, you’ve already got something big going on. Something the world actually needs - so, thank you, really.

But caring deeply about this work unfortunately doesn’t guarantee that Gen Z will notice you — or trust you at all.

The time in marketing when we talked about “audiences”, “clients” and “users” is long gone. Something important happened — something that honestly makes me really happy.

We remembered that “users” are actually humans. And once we saw that, we can’t unsee it.

It changed everything — how we sell, how we talk, even how we build products. The clean, predictable funnel turned into a messy human journey. A million touchpoints that don’t line up neatly. Because people — especially Gen Z — don’t move in straight lines. They wander, they ghost, they double back. They might buy from you after seeing a random meme six months ago, or never actually buy but evangelise you persistently online. Like, with feeling.

And they don’t care about your shiny ads, because they can tell real from fake in 0.3 seconds.

I saw this theory on TikTok the other day — that AI is everywhere now and might soon, weirdly, bring the death of the phone. Because if nothing inside your phone is real or authentic anymore… you’ll have to go outside and actually talk to people again.

Well, who knows? Maybe that’s where we’re heading.

But, as a marketer, what I can tell you with full confidence is that to build your business and actually make sales today in 2025, you need to know and care about the humans who buy your product.

Like — truly know them. As people. Not as “customers.”

It’s a lot of pressure, but the good news is that we know where to start.

The theory of generations at least helps us build our first hypotheses about how different people think, shop, and find meaning.

So, let’s talk about Gen Z — what we know (so far) about them — and how climate tech brands can build for them without greenwashing or huge budgets.

Who They Are (and Why You Should Care)

You might already intuit that Gen Z has power. Here are some stats I collected to make it more concrete (source - GlobeNewswire):

• In the U.S., Gen Z + Millennials now represent 32% of consumer spend, up 8 points from 2020. Meaning younger households are driving more of what people buy.

• Adult Gen Z households (18+) have more than doubled their share of CPG (consumer packaged goods) spending in the last five years — from about 2.6% in 2020 to over 6% in 2025.

• Gen Z is one of the most active online shoppers: 44% have made purchases via social media platforms in the past month. They’re also more influenced by digital-first touchpoints.

They’re not “the next generation.” They are the generation. The ones shaping culture, redefining cool, and deciding which brands get invited to the table.

They’re the reason your ads suddenly sound softer and your website got a personality. They’re the reason climate tech startups talk about hope instead of guilt. They’re the reason you can’t get away with greenwashing — they see through it immediately.

If millennials asked brands to “do better,” Gen Z expects you to already be doing it — quietly, consistently, and aesthetically.

Refusal as Identity: The Power of Saying No

Gen Z builds identity not through what they consume, but through what they refuse. It’s kind of fascinating, actually — they construct logic and morality through the act of opting out. Alcohol, fast food, toxic beauty standards, burnout — each rejection becomes a symbol of who they are. It’s their way of saying, “That’s not me, I’m not like that.”

But here’s the sad irony: every refusal of course gets monetised almost immediately. The “no alcohol” movement created an entire category of non-alcoholic wines and zero-proof spirits. Saying no to fast food gave us oat-milk cafés and $15 adaptogenic smoothies. “Clean” beauty turned into a $7 billion industry.

Gen Z isn’t naive about it either — they know their rebellion is being packaged and sold back to them. But that doesn’t necessarily bother them. Because for them, consumption itself has become symbolic. They buy the things that help them refuse better.

So if you’re building in climate tech, remember this: you’re not selling sustainability as a moral choice. You’re offering a tool of refusal. You’re giving them a language to say, “I’m choosing differently.” That’s incredibly powerful — if, of course, you actually do it with honesty.

The Aesthetic Economy

Gen Z doesn’t separate utility from beauty. Everything — from a spreadsheet app to a water bottle — must carry an aesthetic charge. Because aesthetics are how they communicate meaning.

You’ve probably seen it online — the endless stream of “core” subcultures: #cottagecore, #officecore, #cluttercore, “clean girl aesthetic”. Every object becomes part of a curated visual narrative. Even emails get stylised into “performative mail.”

In this world, rationality doesn’t matter. The object itself doesn’t need to be necessary or important — it just needs to feel right. Nostalgia for times they never lived through (Y2K, the 90s, analogue anything) only deepens this effect. It’s not the product they fall in love with; it’s the emotion the product packages.

So, fortunately or unfortunately, your brand isn’t just competing on product features anymore. You’re competing on emotional semiotics. Your ability to fit into their aesthetic language — visually, verbally, emotionally — determines your relevance.

That’s why a hypermasculine energy drink and a cosy handmade sweater can coexist in the same moodboard. They’re both aesthetic artefacts, not opposites.

And I know you might think, “Come on, we’re talking climate here - you can’t truly expect me to worry about aesthetics”. Well, let me hold your hand when I tell you this…

Asia as the New Creative North Star

Something else happened quietly while the Western world was busy debating attention spans: Asia took over as the creative engine of global pop culture.

K-pop, anime, minimalist packaging, hyper-precise colour palettes — Gen Z grew up immersed in this visual universe. It shaped how they read design and storytelling. There’s a meticulousness, a sincerity in detail, a kind of emotional sharpness that Western brands often miss.

This “hypervisual literacy” means your design and storytelling have to operate on multiple layers. You can’t just tell them something is sustainable; it has to look and feel sustainable in a way that’s intuitive, kind of automatic, not stated.

The brands that understand how to translate this — how to adapt Asian-inspired ritual, precision, and fandom culture into local contexts — will win. Because what they’re really translating is not style, but thought patterns.

So, my advice - maybe consider working with a Gen Z designer who “gets it”. Just trust them to do whatever, don’t try to understand it, your head might hurt. And you still have all those investors to charm. Just do your thing.

Home as Refuge (and Stage)

For Gen Z, home isn’t just a place to live — it’s both a shelter and a stage. The pandemic hardwired that duality into their psychology. The home is where they feel safe, but also where they perform safety. It’s both control and self-expression.

So when you think about where your brand lives, think about how it fits inside that emotional architecture.

Products that blend into these domestic rituals — from climate-friendly air purifiers to cosy LED lamps and compostable cleaning refills — aren’t just convenient. They represent control in a world that - to them - has always felt uncontrollable.

Big things, like buying property or “saving the planet,” feel distant, unattainable. So micro-joys — small, aesthetic, sustainable pleasures and little “good choices” — become survival tools. They give structure to chaos.

And brands that understand this dynamic — that design for stability, not status — become tiny emotional anchors.

From Owning to Meaning

Millennials consume to own; Gen Z consumes to mean. And you might think - OK, that kind of sounds like Baby Boomers. Here’s the difference - Baby Boomers chose products that communicated their status, their wealth and success. Gen Z choose products that communicate their “otherness”. Their uniqueness.

For them, consumption is language. Every purchase is a statement. Every brand they wear, follow, or - important one - boycott becomes a piece of their self-narrative.

They’re not waiting for brands to send messages — they’re waiting for opportunities to co-create meaning. Which means your role as a brand isn’t to “communicate values” anymore; it’s to build tools for identity construction.

So stop talking in demographics and segments. Start thinking in cultural codes and emotional triggers. Don’t build funnels — build rituals. Don’t talk about your mission — give people a way to live it, visually and emotionally.

Because Gen Z isn’t buying products. They’re collecting language.

What does this mean in practice for climate tech founders

If you’re reading this and going “cultural codes - huh???”, I’ve got you. Let’s translate all those beautiful words I wrote into actual actions.

1.Stop trying to “educate the market.” Start helping people express who they are.

Most climate startups think their job is to inform — to explain CO₂, to show impact numbers, to teach people why their tech matters. But Gen Z doesn’t want another lecture.

So instead of saying, “Our packaging is made from seaweed to reduce ocean waste,” try:

“We’re turning seaweed into something you can hold — so you can literally touch your impact.”

They don’t want your brand to tell them what to care about. They want to borrow it — to use it as a fragment of who they already are.

2. Translate your mission into daily rituals.

If your product requires effort or guilt to use, it won’t survive. Gen Z needs sustainability to feel like a habit, not a burden. So ask yourself: how does my tech fit naturally into a small, satisfying daily ritual?

For example:

• Notpla doesn’t sell “biodegradable packaging.” They sell the satisfaction of throwing away nothing — the tiny joy of dissolving guilt.

• Aether Diamonds doesn’t say “lab-grown.” They say, “Diamonds made from the air we breathe.” That’s not science — that’s poetry.

Your product should live inside those small emotional loops: moments of control, of calm, of beauty.

3. Design for emotional signals, not just product functions.

Gen Z doesn’t buy based on what works best — they buy based on what feels most aligned with their inner world. Your visual language, tone, and rituals communicate as much as your tech ever could.

If your product cleans air, don’t just show clean air. Show the feeling of breathing easier. If you sell solar tech, show what freedom looks like — actual people on video calls in some forest, or a house humming quietly off-grid. Although your challenge is to make it look and feel real, not polished.

It’s not about explaining; it’s about creating an atmosphere.

Take PANGAIA, for example - I know, not really original, but they do a great job, so they are my example. They do talk a lot about fabrics or fibres, sure, BUT it’s also about the vibe, the mood, the colours, the minimalism, the storytelling — it all signals care, creativity, and progress. I especially love how they collaborate with influencers - check this story with travel bloggers Elias & Kajsa for inspiration.

4. Build community before campaigns.

Funnels don’t work when people move in circles. Build loops instead of ladders — invite your users to co-create.

Gen Z wants to belong to something. They want a story they can help write.

Look at Intersectional Environmentalist, founded by Leah Thomas. She’s not just spreading facts — she’s building a community. Every post, every thread, every campaign feels like an invitation to belong, to be part of something bigger. It’s not about guilt or fear; it’s about showing people that their actions matter, and that climate care is also about justice, equity, and connection.

So instead of saying “Let’s reduce maritime emissions,” invite them to join your cause with something powerful and emotional like “Let’s take the ocean back.”

5. Make your sustainability visible and shareable.

Gen Z uses products as social language. If they can’t show it, it doesn’t exist.

That doesn’t mean you need to chase virality — it means your product should look like its purpose. Let your impact be photogenic, tactile, or emotionally resonant.

Think of Slow Factory, who don’t just talk about climate, they make it feel. Their visuals are bold, thoughtful, alive — every post carries purpose, culture, and a sense of movement. That’s how you build a cultural code around change, not just a product.

6. Give them control, not perfection.

Gen Z doesn’t expect you to fix everything — they expect you to let them participate and show them the real journey.

Be transparent. Show process, not polish - NEVER polish. Invite their feedback, let them choose both big and little things. Admit what you’re still figuring out. That kind of vulnerability, especially from a founder, builds credibility.

It’s not about being the brand that “saves the planet.” It’s about being the brand that says, “We’re in this together — here’s what we’re trying next.”

TL;DR

If you’re building in climate tech and want Gen Z to care, start here:

Gen Z isn’t waiting for another “sustainable” brand to tell them what’s good for the planet. They already know. What they want now is agency, authenticity, and aesthetics — the ability to show who they are through what they buy.

They use refusal as identity.

No alcohol, no fast fashion, no toxins — every “no” is a signal that says, “I’m not like them.” Ironically, that refusal has become its own economy — from alcohol-free wine to electric bikes. So if your brand sells an alternative, you’re already part of that story. Just make sure you’re not moralising about it.

They also aestheticise everything.

Nothing is “just functional.” Even climate action needs to look good. Think vibe, not virtue. Your visuals, tone, and rituals are part of your credibility. You’re not competing on tech specs anymore — you’re competing on emotional language.

Their world is shaped by Asia’s hyper-visual culture, internet irony, and home rituals born out of pandemic burnout. Their lives are hybrid — part digital, part domestic — and they look for small anchors of stability. Every little purchase is a micro-joy, a sense of control in an unstable world.

And consumption itself has changed.

Millennials bought things to own. Gen Z buys things to mean. A product isn’t an object — it’s a signifier. It’s a way to say, “this is who I am.”

So if you’re a climate tech founder trying to connect with them — stop trying to educate, and start helping them express themselves. Make sustainability visible, shareable, and emotionally charged.

They don’t want a brand that preaches.

They want a brand that speaks their language of meaning. Because for Gen Z, climate tech isn’t about saving the world.

It’s about making the future feel like something they want to belong to.

💬 Final Thoughts

The world doesn’t need more noise. It needs more clarity. You don’t have to be everywhere, do everything, or sound like everyone else. You just have to sound like you — honest, curious, and ready to make a difference.

Marketing isn’t about hype. It’s about helping your idea reach the people who need it most. Let’s build marketing that feels human again. If you’re ready to stop overcomplicating and start focusing on what truly matters, reach out to schedule a free session with me.

We’ll map out a simple 90-day plan that aligns with your purpose — and keeps your sanity intact.

🪶 Disclaimer

Written by a human (hi, that’s me - Elena) — with a little help from ChatGPT to organise my ideas. The thoughts, experiences, and occasional anxious opinions are all mine.