Thanksgiving dinner in America has always been about more than just turkey and trimmings. It’s a time for families to gather, share stories, and—sometimes—debate the big issues of the day. This year, as millions sat down to their holiday feasts, climate change unexpectedly took center stage, with environmental groups, scientists, and even public figures weighing in on the environmental impact of the traditional meal and how to talk about it with loved ones who might not see eye to eye.
On November 26, 2025, the Environmental Working Group (EWG) sounded an alarm about the carbon footprint of turkey consumption, just as Americans prepared to carve their holiday birds. According to Axios, EWG’s Iris Myers explained, “Raising and processing a four-ounce turkey serving is the equivalent of nearly three miles’ worth of tailpipe emissions.” While turkey is less damaging to the climate than beef, it still produces more greenhouse gas emissions than chicken, Axios reported. The environmental impact doesn’t stop with what’s on the plate—where you live can make a difference, too. A 2016 study cited by Axios found that Thanksgiving dinners in Democratic-leaning states like Washington and Vermont emitted the lowest amounts of carbon dioxide, while Republican strongholds such as Wyoming, West Virginia, and Kentucky had the highest so-called Turkey Day emissions.
This intersection of food, geography, and politics has become a microcosm of the larger national debate about climate change. According to Axios, climate change is “fading in importance on some U.S. lawmakers’ priority lists,” even as activists insist that “even small steps from the public are needed.” The shifting political winds are evident in policy changes, too: California regulators recently repealed their mandate requiring large companies to buy more electric trucks—a move seen as a victory for the Trump administration and a sign that, for some, the urgency around climate action is waning.
Yet, the conversation isn’t just happening in the halls of government or the pages of policy reports. It’s playing out around family tables, where differing viewpoints can lead to heated arguments—or thoughtful exchanges, if handled with care. Rebecca Fishkin, director of communications for the nonprofit C-Change Conversations, published a timely guide on November 26, 2025, offering advice on how to discuss climate change with skeptical parents during Thanksgiving dinner. “Let’s be honest: telling your parents they might be wrong about something has never been easy. Now, throw in politics, Thanksgiving dinner and climate change? That’s a recipe for disaster – and indigestion,” Fishkin wrote for The Invading Sea.
Fishkin’s approach centers on respect and empathy. She encourages starting by listening to others’ opinions and acknowledging the truths everyone can agree on. “Yes, the climate has always changed—we’ve had ice ages and warming periods. What’s different now is that it’s happening at an unprecedented speed—10 times faster than normal climate swings—and human actions are driving it,” she explained. With nearly eight billion people living in a complex, interconnected global economy, simply relocating in response to climate shifts (as hunter-gatherers once did) is no longer an option.
Fishkin emphasizes that fossil fuels have historically been “extraordinary friends,” enabling modern medicine, global trade, and even Sunday football. But now, burning them is altering the atmosphere in ways that threaten to undo that progress. “Financial and insurance experts—and all of the major scientific institutions—warn that burning them is changing the composition of our atmosphere and will trigger disastrous changes in our natural systems,” she wrote. These changes, she warned, could shrink GDP, threaten security, and undermine quality of life, especially for future generations.
Rather than getting bogged down in jargon, Fishkin suggests using a “risk calculator” approach familiar to many Americans. She lays out the evidence: longer, hotter summers; more frequent wildfires; shifting rain patterns leading to both floods and droughts; and rapidly rising sea levels causing coastal flooding. “Every major scientific institution has recognized that climate change is happening and is a real threat. Every country except Yemen, Iran and Libya have recognized it as a real threat. Importantly, insurance companies and investment rating companies do, too. It’s not just likely, it’s already happening,” she wrote.
The potential consequences are dire. “Credible projections predict temperatures and humidity levels will soon become too high for even young, healthy humans to safely be outside in some parts of the world. Crop yields are expected to plummet as heat thresholds are crossed and water systems are disrupted. Coral reefs—the nurseries to 25% of sea life—will die. Many cities and shoreline infrastructure will be under water. Conflicts will arise over dwindling natural resources and increased migration pressures,” Fishkin warned. These aren’t just the worries of environmentalists; they’re echoed by military, scientific, and economic experts alike.
Despite the grim projections, Fishkin maintains that hope and practicality should guide the conversation. Solutions exist and are gaining traction. Renewable energy costs have plummeted, and renewables are expected to provide half of all global power generation by 2030. Notably, 80% of clean energy jobs are in areas that voted for President Donald Trump, highlighting that the transition to cleaner energy is not a partisan issue. “Renewable energy has boosted jobs and grid security, particularly in conservative areas, and costs less than fossil fuel power sources,” she wrote. Innovations like next-generation nuclear, geothermal, and carbon capture have broad support, and acting now, she argues, will save money and hardship in the future.
Fishkin also advises tailoring the conversation to values that resonate across the political spectrum: prudence, stewardship, self-reliance, and responsibility. She points out that prominent Republicans, including George W. Bush, Kevin McCarthy, James Baker, and George Shultz, have all taken climate change seriously. Even young conservatives are increasingly vocal about the need for action. “Drive home that this topic isn’t a ‘their side’ versus ‘your side’ one—it’s about ‘all’ of us, because we all want to protect what we love: our families, our communities and our way of life,” she urged.
Ending on a note of optimism, Fishkin calls for conversations that inspire hope rather than guilt or defeatism. “It’s not too late. We can adapt and mitigate. We can, and do, innovate. We can act in ways that make the economy stronger, our communities healthier and the world more stable.” She invokes a lesson familiar to many: “Take responsibility. Clean up your mess. Leave things better than you found them.”
Even as climate change debates simmer at the national level and policies shift with the political tides, it’s clear that meaningful progress depends on conversations at the most personal level. Whether over turkey, tofu, or pumpkin pie, the dinner table remains a place where Americans can find common ground—and perhaps, a path forward on one of the most pressing issues of our time.
