Do You Know What “Energy Transition” Means in Colombia?

Few expressions are repeated as frequently in today’s energy debate as “energy transition.” However, it is also one of the least defined.

Depending on who is saying it, it can mean anything from abandoning fossil fuels and electrifying the economy to reducing carbon emissions or diversifying the energy matrix. In some cases, it is even used to refer to all these things simultaneously, with varying degrees of urgency.

Do we actually know what we are talking about when we discuss the energy transition in Colombia?

In its simplest form, the energy transition refers to the process by which a country changes how it produces, transports, and consumes energy to reduce its environmental impact. In our case, the transition in Colombia is usually associated primarily with the expansion of renewable energies like solar and wind, the electrification of certain sectors of the economy, and the gradual reduction of dependence on fossil fuels (coal, oil, and gas).

Now, part of the problem with defining this term stems from the fact that the conversation happens in highly specialized circles: engineers, economists, regulators, and experts who frequently debate energy matrices, emissions, or emerging technologies. These terms are rarely translated into language that is clear and practical for the majority of Colombians, turning what should be a technical evolution into a challenge of public communication.

Understanding energy is crucial: when the key concepts of such an ambitious transformation are unclear, public debate becomes muddled. Other actors take advantage of this confusion to promote their own agendas. Consequently, the average citizen either flatly rejects what they don’t understand or simply ignores a topic they don’t perceive as relevant to their own lives.

The energy transition in Colombia implies much more than building new technologies or modifying regulatory frameworks. It also implies building a public conversation capable of explaining what is changing, why, and to what end.

Obviously, this doesn’t mean society needs to become experts in energy engineering. But it does mean that any transformation of this magnitude requires a language that is clearer, more accessible, and more connected to the daily lives of Colombians.

The Energy Transition Fails Not for Lack of Technology, but for Lack of Narrative

Whenever we talk about climate change or the energy transition, we assume the problem is purely technical: we need more renewable energy, more investment, more regulation, and more innovation. And yes, that is true. But there is something rarely discussed with the same level of seriousness: the way we talk about these processes can either accelerate or stall their progress.

The energy transition does not occur in a vacuum. It happens in public opinion, on Facebook, in family conversations, in political debates, in news headlines, and in private sector sustainability reports. In that arena, words matter.

It is not the same to speak of a “climate crisis” as it is to speak of “climate variability.” I recently read a CEO in Colombia suggesting we replace “energy transition” with “energy aggregation.” That choice of words is not minor. Just as it is not the same to refer to fossil fuels as “dirty energy” as it is to call them “traditional energy in transformation.” Each adjective activates different mental frameworks. Each metaphor constructs a different reality.

When we describe the energy transition as a “war on oil,” we are inviting confrontation. When we present it as an “evolution of the energy system,” we open space for adaptation. Metaphors are not literary ornaments: they are cognitive shortcuts that shape how we understand the world.

In Latin America, where a large portion of economies depend on the energy sector, language is not a trivial detail. If the transition is communicated as a punishment, it generates resistance. If it is communicated as a gradual and strategic process, it invites negotiation. If it is communicated as a threat to employment, it awakens fear. If it is communicated as a productive reconversion, it opens up possibilities.

Public policies can be designed with impeccable technical precision. But if the accompanying narrative generates distrust, the political cost multiplies. Social legitimacy is not built with figures alone; it is built with meaning.

That is why the way we communicate climate change matters—a lot. Not because it replaces action, but because it defines the ground upon which those actions will be accepted, debated, or blocked.

The energy transition is not solely a technological challenge. It is, above all, a narrative challenge.

And as long as we fail to understand that, we will continue to wonder why, despite having the technical solutions, change moves slower than expected.