Behavioural science is the study of how people’s thoughts, emotions, values, and social context influence the decisions they make and the behaviours they adopt. In agriculture, this can include anything from adopting a new farming practice, using new technology, or even how someone copes with stress or change.

In the water quality space, agronomists, scientists or extension staff might identify a problem or have a new management practice they want farmers to adopt. But if we don’t understand the people we are trying to connect with, we may not get farmers to adopt our solution or practice.

Behavioural science identifies what helps or hinders adoption. For example, most farmers are part of family-run farms that are deeply tied to the land and their local community. That sense of identity matters, and any messages of change need to be framed with that identity. Another example is cognitive overload or the mental suitcase. Farmers juggle constant decisions, from weather, crop health, equipment, to finances – and sometimes this gets too much because our suitcase is full. When information is too complex or poorly timed, it can overwhelm. Behavioural science shows people default to familiar habits when overloaded, and may reject or resist when they are being shown new and unfamiliar information.

By understanding human factors, behavioural science helps maximise the uptake of better practices and support real, lasting change in agriculture.

Often it is assumed people make poor decisions because they lack the right information – and if we provide them with the right data, they will change their behaviour. But if this were true, action against climate change would’ve been solved decades ago and we wouldn’t still be driving emissions-heavy cars. People would’ve quit smoking in the 80s. McDonalds wouldn’t exist. And lattes wouldn’t come in disposable cups.

Humans are not purely rational beings. To give facts to people and for them to immediately change their behaviour would be a rational response. This oversimplifies human behaviour. We all have individual emotions, habits, religious beliefs, values and identity – shaped by social and community context. Who we feel we are, who we think we are, what's important to us... those are the values that underlie our identity. And our identity drives decision-making. It's actually this complex interweb of all these components that forms a person’s individual identity. People are complicated and unique – so naturally, changing human behaviour is too.

So, yes, facts and data are essential drivers of behaviour change, but information alone doesn’t motivate. Framing science in a way that is relevant and meaningful provides the evidence people need to understand a problem, believe it affects them, and trust that a solution will work.

Sometimes we feel accuracy is everything when communicating science. But often in the effort to get every detail right, the message can get buried in jargon, graphs, and acronyms. There is a fine balance between being scientifically accurate and being meaningful. If the meaning doesn’t land, none of it matters.

One common mistake is overloading farmers with data, like using technical terms, complex caveats, or long explanations. This can be confusing and creates a sense of uncertainty. And for most people, uncertainty is uncomfortable and creates anxiety. This can lead to doubt and resistance – and farmers may ignore, resist, or dismiss facts. And unfortunately, in the past, there’s been a lot of mistrust in science, distant and confusing messages, and sometimes conflicting science. So it is easy for farmers to reject the science altogether. They will fall back on familiar beliefs or anecdotal stories to create that familiar sense of certainty – even when they aren’t accurate.

So recognising and working closely with farmers in a way that acknowledges their expertise and have them involved in the science is important. A lot of projects now undertake water quality monitoring with farmers, and are working with them to come up with solutions.

To build trust and support change, we need to make science meaningful and relevant. That means using local data, clear language, and showing a practical path forward. We’re already making strides in this space, and continuing to improve how we communicate is just as important as the science itself.

Over the years, farmers have often been portrayed as environmental villains, blamed for land clearing, reef degradation, or poor water quality. While not always explicit, terms like "environmental vandals" have done real damage. This term was publicly used in the 1990s, framing farmers as careless polluters – people who didn’t value the environment. Farmers felt victimised.

It's important to recognise that farmers see themselves as stewards of their local land and community. Most farmers are deeply connected to the land. They live and work in it every day. Their livelihoods depend on healthy soils, clean water, and functioning ecosystems. When you consider this, you can see how this kind of blame-based language can be very insulting to their identity.

Over time, this language eroded trust in the water quality space. Nobody likes to have their entire livelihood criticised and degraded. Farmers felt attacked, misunderstood, and that their lived experience and values were being dismissed. When this happens, farmers are more likely to reject science, avoid engagement, and align with voices that validate their frustration.

Those working in the water quality space with industry and farmers are working really hard to overcome these barriers. Every time this blame-based language pops up in the media again, even in the slightest form, farmers may fall back into feeling unfairly blamed and shut down.

So we need to understand the local historical context, recognise that it is a collective community and industry approach, and be aware of the current issues, and acknowledge collective solutions and that we all have a role to play. It’s an ongoing barrier for behaviour change, but building those close connections, using trust chains, listening and having empathy is making a lot of difference.

Misinformation can derail even the best-intentioned efforts to improve water quality. In agriculture, it can spread through communities via hearsay, old habits, or frustration. This includes beliefs like ‘nutrients are natural, they come from the environment like rainforests,” “new practices lower productivity and yields” or “water quality isn’t improving, so it’s not us”.

Misinformation doesn’t always occur intentionally but is difficult to shift. It can start with a misunderstanding, a misquote from a report, media sensationalising an issue, industry motivations, or even a single bad experience that gets repeated as truth. When trust in science or government is already low, people are more likely to believe personal stories or community anecdotes over official sources.

When information feels threatening or disconnected from daily reality, people double down. So the reason why people cling on to misinformation is often because it is more familiar and makes them feel safer. So, “new practices lower productivity and yields” – a farmer may have farmed using the same practices for decades. He knows how much he is producing and the profits he gets. It is familiar. It is safe. Telling a farmer he can no longer do those practices he has done his entire life feels threatening.

What works is listening, showing respect for farmers’ knowledge, and building trust through shared goals. The point is more about correcting misinformation through replacing it with something people don’t get overwhelmed with and can act on, and that can be achieved through trusted local voices, and clear, consistent messaging grounded in local data.

Absolutely. One of the major challenges in past communication has been psychological distance, especially with Reef messaging.

We’ve focused heavily on telling farmers, “Do this for the Reef, the Reef is suffering.” But for many farmers, the Reef feels far away – many have never even been there. It’s hard to visualise and care deeply about something you have no connection to.

It’s a similar issue we saw in early climate change campaigns, remember the polar bear on the melting ice? It was alarming, but not relatable. Most Australians have never seen snow, let alone ice sheets. When the problem feels too distant or overwhelming, people tune out. Fear-based messaging often backfires too. When the threat feels abstract or unsolvable, people shut down. We’ve seen this with smoking, obesity, and other health campaigns. It takes decades to shift behaviour, and even longer if the message is irrelevant or accusatory.

The Reef is renowned around the World and is deeply valued by conservationists, policymakers, UNESCO, scientists and people living in our capital cities. But the change we want from farmers won’t come from pushing those broader values. It comes from connecting with their values. Everything that improves water quality also improves farming outcomes and their local environment. So instead of saying “Do it for the Reef,” we need to say “Do it for your farm, your rivers, your community.” That’s what farmers can see, touch, and care about. Farmers can visualise and connect with this.

Social norms are the unwritten rules about what’s seen as normal or acceptable within a group. There are two types: descriptive norms (what we see others doing) and injunctive norms (what we think we should be doing). But these often conflict. For example, a farmer might know they should use less fertiliser (injunctive), but if no one else in their area is doing it, they’re unlikely to change (descriptive). Descriptive norms are generally an unconscious process, so people are not even aware they are doing it - that’s why it is so powerful.

One of the biggest mistakes we make is over-emphasising negative descriptive norms. We constantly say what’s going wrong – how few people are following best practice. But when we do that, we normalise the very behaviour we want to change.

If farmers keep hearing, “Most farmers are still using a harmful pesticide” or “Runoff is widespread,” it is inadvertently sending a message, “Well, everyone’s doing it, so why should I be different?”

Instead, we need to highlight positive trends like “More and more farmers are switching to safer pesticide options.” Or “Most farmers in your area are refining irrigation practices.”

This reinforces a sense of momentum and belonging “People like me are already doing this.” Nobody likes being singled out as the problem. But if you connect messages to identity and consistently show that change is already happening in their peer group, then you create new, positive social norms that stick.

Scientists, government representatives and policymakers may be the holders of information, but we’re not always the right messengers.

Just like we sometimes hold generalised beliefs about farmers, often farmers hold generalised beliefs about us. Many farmers have received difficult news from governments and scientists in the past, so there’s often an immediate resistance to trust.

Trust chains matter. Information is far more effective when it’s delivered by someone the audience already trusts like a neighbour, peer, local advisor or extension staff. These people act as bridges. They understand the culture, they speak the language, and they carry credibility.

An example of this is Reef Regulations, which had a huge impact on the grazing community. This eroded a lot of trust between government and graziers resulting in an automatic resistance. But extension staff have made a big difference in local grazing communities in building bridges to communicate science and management practices. They live in the community and they’re seen as practical, grounded, and on the side of the farmer. They have that trusted voice.

There is room for scientists or policy communicators to rebuild trust chains by consistently showing up, listening and working with farmers. But we also need to recognise that we don’t always have to be the messenger. Sometimes, our role is to equip those who can be.