• by Benny Thomas , Op-Ed Contributor, September 10, 2014

Since about 10:30 am on Sept. 9, all the world can seem to talk about is the shiny new blockbuster-hopeful from Apple, which you dare not call the iWatch anymore. Critics have gushed over its sleek design, the “digital crown” navigation system, even the custom typeface that Apple has designed. But the central aspect of the device, while mentioned in every single report, has not generated all that much chatter. It’s the data. More specifically, it’s the potential impact of the data.

This is essentially a wrist-bound personal feedback machine. Out of the box, it will record your movements and tell you how far you are from your health goals. That’s just for starters, of course. With the new “Watch Kit” for developers, you can expect a slew of apps that build on this functionality – and this proximity to you – to monitor all your vital signs, suggest ongoing health programs, measure sleep patterns and so on. Think of the amazing possibilities – for all of us who are trying to shed a few pounds, for the diabetics who now have a real-time blood sugar monitor that can transmit information immediately to medical professionals, for the blood pressure patient who can now tell exactly when they’re heading for trouble – this is a godsend. 

What does all this have to do with saving the planet though? 

The principle behind the Apple Watch is a simple, but powerful idea: you cannot change what you cannot measure. I have spoken often in this column about how our brain’s tendency towards short-term thinking has made us insensitive to the perils of global warming. We simply cannot see that far, so as much as our rational brains agree that this is a problem, our instincts and reptilian brain leads us by the nose away from that and towards the next shiny object. 

But there’s one more culprit — the inability to measure and even comprehend the damage we are doing with each of our actions. Any number of studies have demonstrated that the simple act of showing people the consequences of their actions changes their actions. When fast food restaurants were required to list calorie counts for their meals, salads magically appeared on their menus. Why? Because while there are always people who will simply not read the information or ignore it, there are many who do – and then go on to say “No thank you, I’ll pass.” In the financial industry, a new breed of service providers are carving out a niche for themselves purely by taking complicated investment and spend data and making it easy to understand. Mint began the trend and now there’s SigFig, Personal Capital, Credit Sesame, to name but a few. If you can see what the next swipe of your credit card will do to your credit rating, it might give you pause.

So let’s find a way to visualize the implications of our activities on the environment. For example, if you could see the damage your drive to the grocery store did to the ozone layer, maybe you’ll walk next time. If your Nest thermostat’s dashboard had one more column that showed you how many polar bears died as a result of turning the heating up way beyond where it needed to be and keeping it on – not to mention how much extra money it cost you – maybe you’ll slip on a woolen jersey instead. And if all of us frequent fliers could see the size of our carbon footprint, well, maybe we would make more long-distance calls. TelePresence and Skype, there’s your new ad campaign. 

Find a way to visualize it and you will change the way we behave. SoCal Edison doesn’t know that – as I realized when I just spent 15 minutes trying to find my annual power consumption records on their site. On the other hand, the sales professional from Solar City took exactly 30 seconds to show me one simple graph of how my electricity bill would change if I switched to solar panels. That’s all it took. Pictures speak.

So if you’re in advertising or design or marketing, please treat this as your challenge. This is what you do. Make us feel the problem. Change our behavior. Make data sing. Do an Apple on climate change.