For the past decade, “nudging” has been the Swiss Army knife of public policy: neat, clever, and just the thing if you happen to be in a cafeteria moving apples closer to the till. The idea was simple: change the way choices are presented, and people will make better decisions without even noticing. No shouting, no taxes, no revolutions.
It was clever. It was tidy. And, according to Ralph Hertwig, Susan Michie, Robert West and Stephen Reicher in their recent Cambridge University paper, it’s also hopelessly underpowered for the crises we now face.
Because while nudges might help you eat more fruit, they won’t decarbonise the energy grid, reverse biodiversity loss or stop the next pandemic. They might not even get you to the polling station if it’s raining.
Why boosting is different
Nudging assumes people are basically well-meaning but hopeless. We are a species that can’t be trusted to remember passwords, let alone act in its long-term interest. So policy quietly works around our cognitive potholes, hoping we don’t notice.
“Boosting” turns that on its head. It’s about giving people the skills, tools and confidence to make better choices themselves, and crucially, to act together. Not so much “Here’s your nudge towards the salad” as “Here’s how to run the kitchen.”
A boost might be teaching statistical literacy so you can smell a dodgy COVID claim from ten paces. Or giving communities the means to debate and decide on local climate plans. Or, more radically, making sure institutions are set up so co-operation is easier than sabotage.
Where nudges are polite little taps on the elbow, boosts are gym sessions for your collective decision-making muscles. You leave stronger, not just slightly repositioned in the queue.
The collective dimension
The paper makes the point, diplomatically, but firmly, that global crises aren’t solved by a billion lone heroes each making “better” choices in isolation. They need coordination. And not the sort you get on WhatsApp family groups.
Boosting isn’t about turning everyone into a Nobel laureate; it’s about creating the skills, opportunities and motivation to work with people who might not look, vote or eat like you. That could mean community-owned renewables, participatory budgeting, or just not turning public health briefings into partisan sport.
What this means for policy and practice
This isn’t a call to ban nudging. There’s still a place for clever defaults and well-timed reminders (yes, even about pensions). But it’s a reminder that changing the font on the energy bill won’t solve the energy crisis.
A boost-oriented approach means:
- Thinking long-term, capacity takes time to build, unlike a nudge, which you can install before lunch.
- Redesigning institutions so they invite participation rather than treat it as a security risk.
- Actually talking to people and not just in focus groups where the biscuits are the main attraction.
The real challenge
Boosting is slower, messier and politically braver than nudging. It requires trusting the public, even the bits of it you secretly wish would stay off Facebook.
But as Hertwig and colleagues argue, it’s the only way to get the scale and solidarity our global problems demand. Nudges might win you a few battles. Boosts are how you stand a chance in the war.
And if we can manage that, perhaps one day the salad will choose us.
You can read the paper here.