That statistic — borrowed from EY — doesn’t shock him. After a decade at Tesco, where he led energy and engineering across 4,500 sites in five countries, he knows just how hard it is to turn strategy into action. But he also knows it can be done.

At Tesco, he helped them beat their 2025 science-based target ahead of time — not through grand gestures, but through a detailed, iterative plan. “Every store, every year. Forecast, act, measure, iterate,” he says.

“It’s like nudging an oil tanker. But you can nudge it.”

What Makes a Plan Credible

Now at Avison Young, Chris leads sustainability and decarbonisation strategy in the built environment sector — one of the heaviest emitters and slowest movers. The challenge? Many firms are stuck in “paralysis,” staring down the total cost of transformation and freezing in place.

His advice is simple, but pointed:

“Start somewhere. Don’t start with the hardest bit. Start with the wins.”

For Wright, a credible plan doesn’t mean perfect forecasting. It means creating a live blueprint that links ambition to operations and procurement. A plan that can flex — forward, back, sideways — but always points in the same direction. “It becomes the bedrock of decision-making,” he explains.

“Without it, you’re just reacting.”

The Engineer’s Advantage

Chris is, first and foremost, an engineer. But unlike the stereotype, he doesn’t get lost in the technical. He uses it to cut through the noise.

“Good engineering is about why we can do something, not why we can’t,” he says. That mindset has served him well — not just on site, but in boardrooms.

He’s clear that decarbonisation isn’t just an ESG issue. It’s a business planning issue.

“Investors want to know what you’re doing, when, and why. A plan shows them the opportunity.”

Culture Change, One Word at a Time

Despite his systems-level focus, Chris repeatedly comes back to something softer, less tangible: culture.

At Tesco, adding a single word — “planet” — to the company’s purpose statement had a bigger impact than expected.

“It gave people something to rally behind,” he reflects. “It made it real.”

That clarity of purpose now fuels his work in the real estate sector, where leadership often means aligning dozens of players with conflicting incentives. The solution? “Shared vision equals reduced cost,” he says.

“We’re not competing here. We’re all heading the same way.”

Is It Really Possible to Lead Responsibly?

Chris’s answer is unequivocal: yes — but not in the abstract. Responsible leadership, he insists, is not about virtue signalling or mission statements. It’s about discipline, detail, and follow-through.

“Climate action isn’t just about ethics,” he says.

“It’s about sound corporate planning.”

In a world that loves to talk about the destination, Wright is a rare voice focused on the route map — and on making sure the wheels actually turn.

Edward isn’t your average paint entrepreneur. He’s a historian by training, an interior designer by trade, and, in his own words, “a slightly reluctant businessman” who stumbled into the world of paint-making when a project at Goodwood Estate opened his eyes to an uncomfortable truth: the stuff we use to coat our walls is, quite literally, covering our homes in plastic.

It was a revelation that sent him down a rabbit hole of history, chemistry, and corporate accountability. What he discovered wasn’t pretty.

“Since the 1950s, we’ve embraced polymer technology — plastic — to make modern paint,” Edward explains.

“It’s marketed as water-based, eco-friendly, safe. But look behind the label, and it’s often anything but.”

His response? Edward Bulmer Natural Paint — a range rooted in what he calls “ancient wisdom and innovative science”, using natural, plant-based ingredients rather than fossil fuel derivatives. But his mission goes beyond tins of paint. It’s a challenge to business as usual itself.

The Problem With Business as Usual

Edward’s views are shaped not only by his career but by his upbringing. Growing up in rural Herefordshire, surrounded by the legacy of his family’s cider business, he saw a model of capitalism that felt personal, connected, and — crucially — fair.

“Family businesses, when they work well, understand that looking after people and place isn’t a bolt-on. It’s part of the DNA,” he reflects.

“But too often, when businesses scale or float, that gets lost. The pursuit of endless profit takes over.”

It’s a sentiment that feels especially relevant in today’s fraught sustainability landscape. With political backlash brewing against ESG, and greenwashing rife, Edward believes transparency is now the most radical act a company can undertake.

His magic wand wish? Simple: ingredient labelling on paint tins.

“We declare what goes into food, cosmetics, cleaning products. Why not paint? If you knew you were coating your home in microplastics and petrochemicals, would you?”

Sustainability Isn’t Optional — It’s Survival

Beyond paint, Edward’s critique runs deeper. He’s blunt about the existential nature of the climate crisis, but also about the cognitive dissonance that allows large swathes of the commercial world to carry on as though business as usual is still an option.

“The climate effects are accelerating. The science is clear. But money still drives decisions,” he says.

“Until business understands that sustainability isn’t a nice-to-have — it’s the key to permanence — we’re stuck.”

It’s not just philosophical. It’s practical. Edward’s business model is a masterclass in solving multiple problems at once: healthy homes, heritage protection, reduced carbon footprint, and, yes, turning a profit.

“Every part of what we do can be profitable. Sustainability isn’t a sacrifice. It’s good business.”

The Optimism We Need (and the Honesty We Lack)

For all the frustrations, Edward isn’t cynical. He’s driven by a quiet, pragmatic optimism — one rooted in action, transparency, and a refusal to sugar-coat the challenges ahead.

“I couldn’t do business any other way now,” he says.

“We all need to start asking harder questions — of the products we buy, the companies we support, the systems we’ve inherited.”

Because whether it’s the paint on our walls, the food on our plates, or the future of our planet — ignorance might be easy, but it’s never harmless.