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It is time to count the true cost of the climate crisis, and for those responsible to pay their fair share.
Big Oil and Gas CEOs are raking in obscene profits from the energy shock triggered by the war in Iran, in some cases rivaling the GDP of entire African nations. Meanwhile, ordinary people are left to shoulder the consequences: soaring energy bills, rising food prices, higher costs for medicine, and even the closure of schools. If this crisis does not expose who truly benefits from the world’s dependence on fossil fuels, nothing will.
Wealthy countries justify cutting aid budgets by pointing to fiscal constraints, yet continue to pour vast sums into supporting fossil fuel production. In 2024 alone, implicit fossil fuel subsidies amounted to an estimated $6.7 trillion. But when communities on the frontlines of climate impacts call for reparations or compensation for the losses and damages they have suffered, the conversation suddenly becomes politically contentious and financially unthinkable. The irony is not lost on ordinary people.
This double standard is at the heart of the climate justice debate. It is time to count the true cost of the climate crisis, and for those responsible to pay their fair share.
The International Court of Justice’s (ICJ) recent advisory opinion on climate change offers hope for environmental justice. The world's highest court affirmed what communities have said for decades: Countries have a legal obligation—not just a moral one—to prevent environmental harm, and those harmed may be entitled to reparations. It is telling that some leaders needed the ICJ to remind them of their duty to care for our common home. After 30 climate conferences relying on voluntary, unaccountable processes, we hope this opinion brings real accountability to the United Nations Framework Convention on Climate Change.
Reparations are not charity; they are a necessary investment in the future of people historically harmed by environmental destruction.
As the negotiations in Bonn continue, amid political tensions, a standing agenda item on loss and damage, a theme which has been missing from the majority of the negotiations, will ensure compliance with legal obligations, including on climate reparations, as clarified by the ICJ.
Developing countries must stand their ground. We need an honest, collective reckoning about who causes the harm, who is most affected, and who must pay for the damage. These principles underpin any fair legal system, and there is no justification for treating them as optional
I, along with many others, have argued that dependence on fossil fuels drives rising inequality. Just as importantly, climate change—caused by burning those same fuels—disproportionately devastates vulnerable communities. What happens in the Strait of Hormuz doesn't end there; it ripples through our global energy security. As the war looms in Iran, frontline communities worry about the impending fossil fuel crisis.
The world’s energy dependency is built on extraction, profit, and vulnerability. But who pays the price? It is always the same people on the losing end of this broken system—the very same communities brutally affected by the climate crisis. Those least responsible for conflict pay the price for disruptions to the fossil fuel supply chain, threatening agricultural access and food security. Similarly, those who contribute the least to the climate crisis pay the highest price for its impacts. The system thrives on their vulnerability.
Fossil fuels account for about 86% of global carbon emissions. They are not just an insecure energy source vulnerable to weaponized interdependence; they are the primary driver of climate breakdown. They have disrupted weather patterns and accelerated disasters like intense droughts and devastating floods, harming food systems, cultural heritage, water access, and critical infrastructure like hospitals. This continuous burning has escalated climate injustice in the Global South, Indigenous territories, and Black communities in the United States.
This unequal distribution of burdens is unconscionable. According to Oxfam, a person from the richest 0.1% produces more carbon pollution in a day than someone in the bottom 50% produces all year. Developed countries have already exhausted their carbon budgets, yet they continue expanding extraction. Nations like the US—responsible for over 20% of historical CO2 emissions—carry a massive climate debt that must be repaid.
Meanwhile, developing countries are paying a devastating price for a crisis they did little to cause. Africa is responsible for less than 4% of global historical emissions, yet a single climate disaster can wipe out 5-15% of an African nation’s annual GDP, leaving communities to rebuild alone. This devastation is a lived reality in the Horn of Africa, where millions face climate-induced malnutrition, and in Southern Africa, which is battered by an unending pattern of floods and cyclones.
At the same time, these nations are trapped under mounting debt burdens as they confront escalating impacts with little financial support. It is a harsh reminder that not everyone reaps what they sow. Those on the winning side often do not care, so long as the harm stays far from their doorstep. Someone once asked me if the world would respond to the climate crisis if there was a "major tragedy." My instant thought was that major tragedies are already unfolding in Indigenous territories and the Global South.
The question of reparations remains highly contested because it speaks truth to power and demands true justice. Climate harm has been primarily driven by corporations and Global North governments. The rich nations that benefited from burning coal, oil, and gas must pay their fair share for repair. Through movement assembly work led by Taproot Earth, frontline communities defined what climate reparations must entail: the restoration of healthy relationships, debt cancellation, and accountable systems grounded in Black and Indigenous sovereignty.
Reparations are not charity; they are a necessary investment in the future of people historically harmed by environmental destruction. Current climate finance systems perpetuate injustice by offering loans instead of grants. True climate reparations demand both the abolition of debt and the provision of grant-based finance.
Reinvesting just 15% of global military spending, roughly $387 billion, would be more than enough to cover the annual costs of climate adaptation in developing countries. The money exists. The will does not.
Last week, the British government quietly informed the United Nation's Green Climate Fund that it would halve the contribution it pledged just two years ago, not because the climate crisis has eased, but because it is spending more on weapons. The move was framed as a "hugely difficult decision," not ideological, and necessary to deliver what United Kingdom Foreign Minister Yvette Cooper called "the biggest increase in defence spending since the Cold War." The planet, apparently, can wait.
It cannot.
The UK's retreat from climate finance is not some isolated budget decision. It is part of a choice being made across the Global North: to rearm, to retreat from development commitments, and to leave the countries least responsible for the climate crisis to deal with its worst consequences on their own.
Global military expenditure reached $2.887 trillion in 2025, pushing the global military burden to 2.5% of GDP, its highest level since 2009. Europe's alone surged 14% to $864 billion, the highest level ever recorded for the continent. Meanwhile, the UN's own analysis found that reinvesting just 15% of global military spending, roughly $387 billion, would be more than enough to cover the annual costs of climate adaptation in developing countries. The money exists. The will does not.
More conflict and more military spending will only deepen the crisis and make millions more people vulnerable to it.
The UK's Green Climate Fund cut does not happen in a vacuum; the US has refused to deliver any further money to the GCF under President Donald Trump and has also given up its seat on the fund's board. According to the Organisation for Economic Co-operation and Development, international development assistance fell by 23.1% in 2025, the steepest annual decline on record, with the United States slashing its aid budget by 57%, Germany by 17%, and France and the UK by 11% each.
The countries that industrialized on the back of fossil fuels, with the highest historical emissions and the highest per capita carbon footprints, are the ones least bothered by any of this.
And yet for the Global South, the signal being sent today is unmistakable: The nations least responsible for the climate catastrophe bearing down on them will have to bear its consequences largely alone, watching the world burn while the architects of that burning pivot to missiles and military budgets. The prospect of just and equitable climate finance from the developed world is beginning to look not merely uncertain, but futile.
The same wars that are killing climate finance are generating record profits elsewhere. Oil and gas companies' profits are soaring as the Iran conflict continues. Chevron, Shell, BP, ConocoPhillips, Exxon, and TotalEnergies are projected to make $2,967 a second in profits in 2026, nearly $37 million more per day than in 2025, with total projected profits across the six companies reaching approximately $94 billion for the year. None of that windfall is going toward the energy transition. BP has slashed planned investment in renewable energy and increased oil and gas spending, Shell has watered down its 2030 climate targets, ExxonMobil has cut its planned low-carbon investment by a third, and TotalEnergies has declined to adopt a transition plan aligned with 1.5°C of warming.
If a handful of fossil fuel corporations are posting billions in profits in a single year, profits made possible by geopolitical instability, then holding them liable through regulation and taxation is not radical but logical. Windfall profit taxes on fossil fuel companies, long discussed and rarely enacted, could generate precisely the kind of revenue that developed governments claim they no longer have for climate finance.
A February 2026 report by Climate Action Network Europe shows the framework already exists, recommending a differentiated corporate tax on fossil fuel profits with revenues recycled directly into the energy transition and international climate finance. Oxfam makes the same case, calling for a Rich Polluter Profit Tax and an equity-based road map that reflects the historical responsibility and financial capacity of different states. The United States and Europe built their wealth on fossil fuels. Many countries in the Global South remain dependent on them not by choice, but by circumstance. Demanding they exit on the same timeline is neither fair nor realistic.
The tools and the arguments exist. What is missing is political will, and the Global South cannot afford to keep waiting for it. The path forward lies in demanding structural reform of the international tax regime that allows fossil fuel super profits and billionaire fortunes to escape accountability; of the debt architecture that forces climate-vulnerable nations to choose between servicing loans and financing adaptation; and of the COP process itself, which has too long allowed wealthy nations to treat climate finance pledges as suggestions rather than obligations.
So, while the world heats up and vulnerable countries face worsening heatwaves, floods, and disasters, while thousands lose lives and livelihoods, one thing is becoming painfully certain: More conflict and more military spending will only deepen the crisis and make millions more people vulnerable to it. The Global South did not start these wars. It should not be made to pay for them, not with its people, its economies, or its climate.
Gov. Hochul must reverse course and demonstrate that New York is serious about implementing the Climate Leadership and Community Protection Act, and that it is committed to building a future powered by renewable energy.
Growing up, my family was nothing if not outdoorsy: summers spent swimming in lakes, winters spent walking on frozen streams. My grandmother taught me to swim before I could walk. But as I reflect on those cherished memories, it’s hard to ignore the disconnect between the natural world as it was then and the reality of it today. All around me, I see the relentless impact of climate change: from more frequent hurricanes to smokey air and extreme heat.
That's why it’s galling to see how New York Gov. Kathy Hochul gutted New York’s Climate Leadership and Community Protection Act (CLCPA). Despite the clear-and-present danger of climate change, Gov. Hochul watered down the CLCPA by pushing back important emissions deadlines and changing the way we calculate methane. She moved us from a 20-year accounting framework to a 100-year framework. That matters because methane is extremely potent in the short term, so using a 100-year timeline makes fossil fuel emission appear less severe.
When the CLCPA was signed into law in 2019, it represented a high point in New York State’s fight against climate change. For the first time, it introduced emissions targets that the state was legally-mandated to achieve. If actualized, the CLCPA promised to meaningfully reduce our state’s climate emissions—bringing cleaner air to our communities and a better shot at a more livable future for us all.
But Gov. Hochul seems to have abandoned those goals. Instead, her ongoing effort to defer the CLCPA is moving us in the wrong direction; it’s locking New York into a fossil fuel-based energy infrastructure. She has also delayed the ban on oil and gas in new buildings, halted the cap and invest program that would fund the energy transition, and cut successful solar initiatives. While the governor claims these decisions are motivated by an “all of the above” approach to rising energy costs, the reality is that she has largely neglected investing in renewable energy. And that’s despite the fact that renewables are, increasingly, the most affordable source of new electricity.
Gov. Hochul must follow through on the vision the state has already set—and stop trying to delay and dilute the CLCPA.
Moreover, Gov. Hochul’s behavior is also taking place amid relentless misinformation campaigns about renewable energy. President Donald Trump regularly parrots falsehoods—and outright lies—about solar and wind energy. The fossil fuel industry is also waging a public relations campaign of its own against a rapid transition to renewable energy. All of this is stymieing the types of policy initiatives, and clean energy investment, that are absolutely indispensable in this moment.
But here’s the reality we’re facing: Electricity demand is projected to grow significantly in the US. That’s a product of electrification campaigns—buildings, vehicles, and the like—alongside the phenomenal growth in data center construction that’s happening right now across the country. By refusing to invest in renewables, our elected officials are functionally selecting for rising fossil fuel use at precisely the moment when we must be doing the opposite. That will only deepen the climate crisis and expose consumers to higher and more volatile costs in the process.
Meeting this demand with renewable energy, by contrast, offers a path to stable, affordable, and sustainable growth. For businesses considering investments in renewable energy or clean-technology manufacturing, policy matters. To that end, Gov. Hochul must demonstrate that New York is serious about implementing the CLCPA, and that it is committed to building a future powered by renewable energy.
I volunteer with Dayenu, a movement of American Jews confronting the climate crisis with spiritual audacity and bold political action. When I think about my own motivation for taking action, I think about a teaching from the Midrash Ecclesiastes Rabbah, a Jewish commentary on the Book of Ecclesiastes. The midrash warns us: “Take care not to spoil or destroy My world, for if you do, there will be no one to repair it after you.” This ancient insight could not be more relevant today. Climate change is already shaping our lives through extreme weather, rising costs, and worsening pollution. The responsibility to act falls squarely on us.
The CLCPA recognizes our responsibility and points clearly toward renewable energy as the path forward. It even embedded climate justice into the energy transition by requiring investments in disadvantaged communities.
As faith communities, we understand the importance of long-term responsibility. Jewish tradition teaches that we are not merely consumers of the world, but also stewards of it. The decisions we make today echo across generations. Choosing renewable energy is one of the clearest ways we can fulfill that responsibility. Gov. Hochul must follow through on the vision the state has already set—and stop trying to delay and dilute the CLCPA. New York helped lead the nation once before. With determination and courage, we can do so again.
Failing to address climate change is a failure for our planet and for humanity. Why pay trillions in disaster relief, conflict mitigation, aid, and migration management when the solutions are at our feet today?
Climate change is now the single biggest health threat facing humanity. The Emergency Events Database reports a record rise in natural disasters globally since the 1960s, detailing over 26,000 mass disasters. The number of reported extreme weather incidents increased from 39 in 1960 to 399 in 2023.
According to the World Economic Forum, climate-related weather disasters will cost the global economy over $2 trillion annually by 2030, with costs escalating dramatically to an estimated $38 trillion per year by 2050, according to the Potsdam Institute for Climate Impact Research (PIK).
Since the Industrial Revolution, global economies have been built around the fossil fuel industry. In 2025, the global oil and gas industry's revenue was estimated at $4 trillion. Despite all the devastating warnings, we are still failing to meet almost every target aimed at curbing emissions.
The burning of fossil fuels comes at a massive price for people, the planet, and our economies. Not only are we spending exorbitant amounts on climate damage, but we are also paying more than ever at the pump and on our energy bills.
Policymakers and world leaders need to start thinking longer term and take steps to prevent the huge economic losses from climate disasters in the first place.
As the US-Israeli war on Iran rages, prices are set to rise further. Targeted attacks on energy facilities have all but closed the Strait of Hormuz, a shipping lane which facilitates the transportation of 20% of global oil and gas supply. The price of crude oil is already 20% higher than it was before the first strikes on Iran on February 28.
Despite the known fact that adaptation is far cheaper than inaction, politicians continue to sit on their hands. Meanwhile, they continue to subsidize the fossil fuel industry, fail to adequately invest in the energy transition, and pass the costs of climate change on to taxpayers.
In the last two full years alone, global economic damages reached $451 billion—a 19% increase compared to the previous eight years. An amount significantly more than that needed to close the global climate adaptation gap.
"Climate change will cause massive economic damages within the next 25 years in almost all countries... We have to cut down our emissions drastically and immediately—if not, economic losses will become even bigger in the second half of the century, amounting to up to 60% on global average by 2100," says Leonie Wenz, a scientist at PIK.

Climate change is not a future problem; it is affecting each and every one of us today.
According to the National Bureau of Economic Research, climate change costs the world 12% in gross domestic product (GDP) losses for every 1°C of warming. This puts the social cost of carbon at around $1,056 per metric ton of carbon dioxide emissions. The report predicts that by the "end of the century, people may well be 50% poorer than they would've been if it wasn't for climate change."
Heatwaves, wildfires, droughts, and storms cost the world more than $120 billion in 2025 alone as 55 billion-dollar weather disasters pounded the Earth. The US bore the brunt with the devastating Californian wildfires, which caused $60 billion of damage and led to the deaths of more than 400 people.
No continent, however, was spared from crippling climate disasters in 2025. It was also noted that disasters are becoming increasingly expensive and their impact underestimated. The Global Assessment Report on Disaster Risk Reduction (GAR) 2025 estimates the annual cost of weather disasters at $202 billion. When other impacts, such as ecosystem costs, are taken into account, the true cost is likely to exceed $2.3 trillion.
Some of the most damaging climate events in 2025 hit poorer nations, including the Philippines, Thailand, Indonesia, Sri Lanka, and Vietnam. These countries have historically contributed little to the climate crisis, have the fewest resources to respond, and are often on the front lines of climate disasters.

"On climate finance, the world must pay up, or humanity will pay the price... Climate finance is not charity, it's an investment; climate action is not optional, it's imperative."—António Guterres, United Nations secretary-general.
In relation to the climate crisis, the Polluter Pays Principle states that those who have historically contributed the most to greenhouse gas emissions should bear the costs of repairing the damages caused and adaptation measures. It also acts as a deterrent to end massive investment and subsidies into the fossil fuel industry and instead promotes the development and integration of clean energy sources.
The Loss and Damage fund was created at COP27, the 2022 climate conference. This fund is to compensate developing countries for losses and damages (L&Ds) from natural disasters caused by climate change, for which wealthy countries are disproportionately responsible. It was hailed as a major milestone at the time, but financial commitments have fallen well short of the $400 billion needed annually to address L&Ds and climate injustices adequately.
Over the past four decades, the costs of wildfires, storms, hurricanes, droughts, and floods have spiraled. These disasters have become more frequent and far more severe. The cost of all disasters between 1985 and 1995 was $299 billion. Yet the same figure for between 2014 and 2025 was $1.4 trillion.
Below, we list the five most costly disasters over the last three decades. The figures provided are estimates, and likely the true cost was much higher. They are adjusted for inflation and, of course, do not include the social costs, such as the devastating human toll, the health crises that follow, the psychological impact, massive displacement, ecosystem destruction, resource depletion, habitat loss, and agricultural fallout.

Climate adaptation is the process of adjusting to the impacts of climate change to reduce damage, prevent loss of life, and protect people and infrastructure before disaster strikes. It also includes reducing global carbon emissions by transitioning to clean energy to prevent climate change from worsening even further.
Adaptation requires upfront investment, but it is far more cost-effective than inaction, which allows the climate crisis to escalate, causing irreversible damage and out-of-control social and environmental costs.
Examples of adaptation measures include flood defences, the creation of urban wetlands, drought-resistant crops and climate resilient agriculture, ecosystem restoration and conservation, and investment in early warning systems.
There is a huge funding gap in climate adaptation, and the longer governments postpone, the greater the need and the higher the costs become. Annual estimates for developing countries alone range from $215 to $387 billion.
Once we reach 2°C of warming, the global annual cost to protect everyone exposed to climate hazards will reach $1.2 trillion, equivalent to almost 1% of GDP. Heat and drought are the most pressing challenges, with more than three-quarters of adaptation funding needed to provide adequate protection.
Estimates indicate that the benefits of adaptation exceed the upfront costs by a factor of seven. Policymakers and world leaders need to start thinking longer term and take steps to prevent the huge economic losses from climate disasters in the first place.
Adaptation investments also have wider secondary benefits such as improved health and social welfare, a more resilient agricultural sector, stable levels of biodiversity, lower levels of migration and conflict, and reduced inequalities.
The 2019 Global Commission on Adaptation Report found that every $1 invested in adaptation can generate up to $7.1 trillion in total benefits globally by avoiding damages and building social and environmental value.

Climate inaction is already leading to massive economic losses from extreme weather. The International Federation of Red Cross and Red Crescent Societies' 2019 Cost of Doing Nothing report estimates that those in need of annual international humanitarian assistance for climate-related disasters could double to over 200 million by 2050, costing an additional $20 billion annually.
The Climate Policy Initiative estimates the financial cost of inaction to be $1,266 trillion. The social cost is much higher:
The two-year Global Stocktake for the Paris Agreement at COP28 confirmed that we are way off track from the targeted 1.5°C target. The window for achieving the Sustainable Development Goals and specific climate goals is rapidly closing.
If governments won't act on climate change for people or the planet, they should at least be motivated by the trillions it will cost them if they continue to do nothing.
Failing to address climate change is a failure for our planet and for humanity. Why pay trillions in disaster relief, conflict mitigation, aid, and migration management when the solutions are at our feet today?
As the Climate Policy Initiative says, "The longer our home remains aflame, the harder and more expensive it will be to extinguish the fire and repair the damage."
We must demand a new comprehensive legal framework for climate refugees to safeguard vulnerable populations and protect those who may be at risk in the future.
The consequences of our planet's changing climate extend far beyond warming temperatures, rising sea levels, and extreme weather events. Human displacement as a result of the climate crisis is now one of the world's most pressing issues, as estimates predict that there could be more than 1 billion climate refugees by 2050.
The plight of these people is neglected and forgotten as they remain unprotected by the law and are excluded from international aid programs.
Climate refugees are forced to flee their homes as the environment degrades and climate-related disasters take hold. Climate change is now one of the leading causes of mass forced displacement.
Climate change is also increasing rates of poverty, instability, and violence—further drivers of migration.
Climate migrants remain in a murky legal space that neither recognizes nor protects them. In fact, the term is not recognized at all in international law.
Those on the front lines of climate change are often in countries that contributed the least to it. The vast majority of climate migration is internal, which puts an unsustainable strain on the already limited resources of these nations.
"When people are driven out because their local environment has become uninhabitable, it might look like a process of nature, something inevitable... Yet the deteriorating climate is very often the result of poor choices and destructive activity, of selfishness and neglect," said Pope Francis.

Climate migrants remain in a murky legal space that neither recognizes nor protects them. In fact, the term is not recognized at all in international law.
The Refugee Convention, which entered into force in 1954, was established to protect those who had fled persecution from the atrocities of World War II. Its protections extend only to those who must leave their home countries due to war, violence, conflict, or any other kind of maltreatment. It also does not protect those who have been displaced in their own countries.
As the vast majority of climate refugees are not crossing borders nor fleeing violence, their status is outside of the convention's reach. These facts do not mean that these people are less in need of assistance or that their lives are not equally in danger, yet the law overlooks their plight.
Climate migration is a form of adaptation. We can build new pathways for safe and regular migration.
Refugee advocates are pushing for an expansion to the convention to include the rights of those forced to move due to environmental factors, but have met with significant political pushback. Critics argue it would lead to the weakening of protection for those experiencing serious persecution. The difficulty in proving the causal factors of climate migration is a further barrier.
The 1998 Guiding Principles on Internal Displacement help bridge the gap in protecting climate refugees; however, its nonbinding nature limits its practical effect and gives it no legal force. It also does not protect those who must cross borders.
The Global Compact for Migration was adopted in 2018. It was the first United Nations framework on international migration. For the first time, climate change was officially recognized as a driver of migration, but it still does not grant legal protection for climate refugees. Instead, the compact promotes safe, orderly pathways for migrants, including planned relocation, visa options, and humanitarian shelter.
The United Nations Framework Convention on Climate Change (UNFCCC) is both the process and the treaty that help countries mitigate the causes and consequences of the climate crisis. It was signed by 154 countries in 1992. Climate migrants aren't explicitly protected by the UNFCCC.
As it stands, although some countries have enacted domestic laws that provide temporary protection for climate refugees, the lack of recognition under the Refugee Convention means there is still no international, legally binding mechanism for them.
Countries are reluctant to sign up to yet another agreement, especially as it may make them responsible for climate migrants who arrive at their borders and promote larger migrant influxes to favored countries. There are many political obstacles which ultimately exacerbate the humanitarian needs of millions.
We must begin to address internal climate displacement in the most vulnerable countries. Tackling the issue at its root is imperative, and the nations historically responsible for the damage must be made to pay.
Climate migration is a form of adaptation. We can build new pathways for safe and regular migration.
The Loss and Damage Fund was established in 2022 at COP27 to address the financial needs of communities severely impacted by climate change. The money would support rehabilitation, recovery, and human mobility. While a brilliant initiative, as of late 2025, rich nations have delivered less than half of what they initially committed to the fund.

The climate justice movement recognizes that climate change disproportionately affects marginalized and vulnerable communities. It demands that the Global North, which has massive historical accountability, should bear the burden of the solutions. The movement brings social justice, racial justice, human rights, and economic equality into the climate debate.
In July 2025, years of activism by a bold group of law students from the University of the South Pacific paid off. The Vanuatu ICJ Initiative spearheaded legal action that led to a historic advisory opinion from the International Court of Justice (ICJ).
The following was adopted unanimously by all 15 judges: Nations have a legal duty to combat the planetary crisis.
The ICJ has, for the first time, officially categorized the climate crisis as an "urgent and existential threat" and emphasized that "cooperation is not a matter of choice for states but a pressing need and a legal obligation." The ICJ opinion can now be used to demand more ambitious climate protection measures, to ensure compliance with the Paris Agreement, to implement national and international climate laws, and potentially to help protect climate migrants.
The initiative also highlighted the vulnerability of small island nations and demonstrated that collective action and legal accountability are essential tools on the journey to justice and sustainable development.
Any justice for climate-induced migration must be human-rights focused. Humanitarian visas, temporary protection, authorization to stay, and bilateral free movement agreements would all help to ease the suffering of those forced to leave their homes.

"When we refugees are excluded, our voices are silenced, our experiences go unheard, and the reality of the climate situation in the Global South is blurred" says Ugandan climate justice activist Ayebare Denise.
Climate migrants have remained invisible in climate and migration debates for years. The International Organisation for Migration have been working hard to bring climatic and environmental factors into the spotlight. They are establishing a body of evidence that will definitively prove that climate change, both directly and indirectly, affects human mobility.
The UN Refugee Agency advocates for states' responsibilities and obligations to address the migration crisis caused by climate change. They view climate change as a threat multiplier and are working toward protection frameworks.
Countries must begin cooperating on this global issue and ensure the fair treatment of all refugees.
The debate over establishing a climate refugee status is ongoing, and while a legal definition would be helpful, it would be only a partial solution. The vast majority of climate migrants do not want to leave their homes, their livelihoods, or their communities. Admittedly, this is no easy feat, but we must fix the root of the problem—climate change itself.
Without urgent action, we are all at risk of becoming climate refugees.
While working to address immediate needs, climate discussions should continue to focus on preventive measures. Climate mitigation, adaptation, and a just energy transition are essential.
Countries must begin cooperating on this global issue and ensure the fair treatment of all refugees. We must demand a new comprehensive legal framework for climate refugees to safeguard vulnerable populations and protect those who may be at risk in the future.
Supporting climate refugees is our moral obligation.
While Brazil positions the summit as an “Implementation COP,” the reality is a conference dominated by the very corporations expanding fossil fuel extraction.
Analysis from the Kick Big Polluters Out coalition shows more than 1,600 fossil fuel lobbyists have been granted access to COP30 in Belém, Brazil. That means 1 in every 25 participants represents the industry that is accelerating climate chaos.
Lobbyists from ExxonMobil, BP, TotalEnergies, and major trade associations roam freely while delegates from the 10 most climate-vulnerable nations combined are vastly outnumbered. Indigenous peoples and civil society activists are squeezed to the margins, sometimes literally, as protesters blockaded entrances to be heard. Meanwhile, fossil fuel executives are in the rooms where decisions or the lack thereof will shape our collective future.
Inside COP30, the contradiction is stark. While Brazil positions the summit as an “Implementation COP,” the reality is a conference dominated by the very corporations expanding fossil fuel extraction. Nearly $250 billion in new oil and gas projects have been approved since COP29, even as the world burns. Indigenous communities, guardians of the Amazon for generations, struggle to enter decision-making rooms, while fossil fuel lobbyists walk in with ease. The people on the frontlines of climate devastation are silenced; the industry that profits from it is amplified.
Protests in Belém, from Indigenous flotillas along the Amazon River to the blockade of COP entrances, are acts of survival and resistance. Indigenous leaders like Raoni Metuktire speak for the forest, the water, and the air that sustain life. Civil society groups push for mechanisms like the Belém Action Mechanism, aiming to put communities at the center of climate solutions. Yet in the halls of negotiation, these voices are often drowned out by the hum of corporate self-interest and the whir of greenwashed PR campaigns.
To expect hope or justice from a world run by billionaires is a delusion.
True climate justice requires more than aspirational statements. It requires dismantling the structures that allow wealth and power to concentrate in the hands of the few while the majority bear the consequences. It demands a serious rethink of the COP system itself: enforceable conflict-of-interest rules, accountability measures for governments and corporations, and meaningful participation for the communities on the frontlines of the crisis.
It is time for the people to call out this hypocrisy and expose this façade for what it is: a fiesta of corporate power, a spectacle of interests flexing muscles through Big Oil and fossil fuel lobbyists. COP30, like its predecessors, has become less a climate forum and more a playground for polluters.
Perhaps one can draw a strong parallel with the genocide in Gaza. I say this because the system is rigged: rigged against the people, the weak, and the vulnerable. Witnessing Gaza makes one feel powerless in front of structures built by and for the powerful, at the expense of the oppressed. And I write not just because of genocides in Gaza or Sudan, but because of the enduring sense of helplessness experienced by the poor and working classes across the globe. Systems rigged by corporate and neoliberal interests have fueled record levels of inequality, leaving ordinary people to bear the brunt of stagnant wages, spiraling living costs, and environmental devastation. This is not a problem confined to the so-called Global South. The endemic inequality extends to the West as well: The richest 1% now control more wealth than 95% of humanity.
The global cost-of-living crisis shows the same structural inequality at work. Inflation is surging worldwide, with food and energy costs pushing millions into poverty from sub-Saharan Africa to South Asia, and even in developed countries. People are skipping meals, forgoing medicine, or working multiple jobs just to survive. Governments scramble with subsidies or cash transfers, but these measures often fail to reach the most vulnerable or merely offer temporary relief, leaving structural inequities intact. The climate crisis and economic injustice are deeply intertwined, both fueled by concentrated wealth and corporate influence.
To expect hope or justice from a world run by billionaires is a delusion. Unless these entrenched systems of inequality are dismantled, unless wealth is distributed more equitably, climate justice like all other lofty promises of fairness will remain a mere pipe dream.
It is time to reset priorities and take an honest stock of COPs. If the conference cannot stay committed to its original purpose to protect people and the planet perhaps it is time to roll it back. Enough of greenwashed pledges and photo ops for polluters. The climate emergency is urgent, but these gatherings, as currently structured, serve only those who profit from the destruction, not those who suffer it.
As ministers arrive in Belém for the final COP30 sprint, the world must move from words to action: That means ending fossil fuel expansion and unlocking the public finance needed to build a fair, fast, and funded energy transition.
At COP28 in Dubai, countries finally agreed to transition away from fossil fuels. That pledge signaled the beginning of the end of the fossil fuel era. But words alone won’t cool the planet, and in the years since, fossil fuel production has only continued to rise, driven primarily by rich countries.
As ministers arrive in Belém for the final COP30 sprint, the world must move from words to action. That means ending fossil fuel expansion and unlocking the public finance needed to build a fair, fast, and funded energy transition.
Oil Change International's recent analysis shows that just four countries—the United States, Canada, Australia, and Norway—increased their oil and gas production by nearly 40% since the Paris Agreement, while production in the rest of the world dropped by 2%. These countries, despite their wealth and historic responsibility for the climate crisis, are dragging the world backwards. The impacts are clear: worsening climate disasters, rising energy costs, and growing injustice.
Meanwhile, the finance to support the transition is nowhere near what’s required. A fossil-fuel phaseout isn’t just about avoiding runaway climate change, it’s about making energy cheaper, safer, and more reliable in an increasingly unstable world. Cutting dependence on oil and gas shields countries from price swings, lowers bills, creates jobs, and supports climate-resilient development. But to ensure everyone shares in the benefits, international cooperation, and government planning and funding is key. This is illustrated by today’s fast but unequal renewable energy deployment, the energy access gap, and NDCs lacking concrete plans to phase out oil and gas.
A just transition is the only way to deliver real climate action. And it won’t come from voluntary pledges or corporate-led initiatives.
During the first week of COP two topics were at the center of discussions: Brazilian Environment Minister Marina Silva’s push for a road map to transition away from fossil fuels, and developing countries’ insistence on centering wealthy countries’ legal obligation to deliver public climate finance under Article 9.1. A road map cannot be successful without the latter. Massive investments are needed in grids and storage, energy access and just transition plans, particularly in developing countries, and private finance is poorly suited to meet these needs. It also adds to already unsustainable debt levels, while many Global South countries already spend more on debt repayments than on education, healthcare, or climate action. Rising debt is choking climate action.
And yet, the European Union, United Kingdom, Canada and Japan, among others, are overselling the role of private finance in covering the energy transition bill. This not only disregards their legal obligation to provide public climate finance at a scale that meets needs, affirmed recently by the world’s highest international court. It also sets the world up for energy transition failure.
It does not have to be this way. The public money needed for a fair fossil fuel phaseout, a just transition, and adaptation exists. As rich countries cut overseas aid, while they increase their military spending, it is important to remember that governments have a choice. They can unlock $6.6 trillion every year through fair taxes, ending fossil fuel subsidies, cancelling unjust debts, and supporting reforms to the unfair global financial system.
COP30 offers a chance to course correct. Governments must stop issuing new licenses for fossil fuel extraction and launch a formal process to implement the COP28 decision to transition away from fossil fuels. That means equitable national phaseout plans, support for just transitions, and an end to fossil fuel finance. It also means wealthy countries fulfilling their Article 9.1 obligations, and providing the public money needed for a transformation rooted in justice.
A just transition is the only way to deliver real climate action. And it won’t come from voluntary pledges or corporate-led initiatives. It must be driven by governments and shaped by people on the frontlines of the crisis: workers, Indigenous Peoples, and communities across the Global South.
Movements are rising to demand a fossil-free future that is equitable and achievable. At COP30, world leaders must choose whose side they are on. The choice is clear: Plan a fossil fuel phaseout, pay your fair share, and deliver a just transition for workers and communities, or fuel the fire while the planet burns.
Hurricane Melissa was no “natural disaster.” It was the predictable result of choices made by powerful interests that continue to profit from a warming planet.
The wind began howling shortly after midnight on a Tuesday morning. My husband and I gathered the children and moved them into our designated “safe space.” We couldn’t sleep. The roof groaned. The windows rattled. By dawn, the sun broke through to reveal the aftermath. Debris and fallen trees littered the area around our home, but we were fortunate—though we’d lost power, our house was intact. But as I scrolled through the images now flooding social media, primarily from the western side of the island, my emotions swung from relief to despair to sorrow. Black River, Savanna-la-Mar, Santa Cruz, Treasure Beach, Montego Bay, and many other communities were devastated.
Hurricane Melissa, a Category 5 storm at landfall, approached Jamaica slowly before drifting westward along the southern coast. Meteorologists struggled to predict its path. The storm’s slow crawl and eventual path across Jamaica brought something even more dangerous: hours of torrential rain, widespread flooding, and destructive winds.
It’s already considered among the most powerful Atlantic hurricanes in recent history. Yet as the media breathlessly warned of the dangers, few spoke of the connection between this storm and the climate crisis. We kept hearing the term “natural disaster.” Hurricane Melissa, however, was anything but natural.
While hurricanes are natural hazards, the scale of destruction we now face is man-made. Over the past century, the burning of coal, oil, and gas has supercharged our atmosphere with greenhouse gases, trapping heat and warming the oceans that fuel storms like Melissa. Warmer seas mean more intense hurricanes, heavier rainfall, and slower-moving systems that linger and devastate. Meteorologists continuously emphasized how warm the Caribbean Sea was before Melissa made landfall, and how deep the warm water extended, fueling the hurricane.
As the media breathlessly warned of the dangers, few spoke of the connection between this storm and the climate crisis.
While fossil fuel companies have known about the correlation between the warming and a changing climate for decades, they have spent billions sowing doubt, funding misinformation, and lobbying against climate policies that could have curbed emissions. Their profits have come at the expense of our safety and our future. Countries like Jamaica, responsible for less than one percent of global emissions, are left to shoulder the costs of adaptation, recovery, and rebuilding. Longer recovery times and deeper economic strain are becoming the norm.
So, no, Hurricane Melissa was not a “natural disaster.” It was the predictable result of choices made by powerful interests that continue to profit from a warming planet. If global emissions are not drastically reduced urgently, these events will only escalate.
After a disaster, we often applaud those who are able to recover quickly. But we cannot just be resilient in the face of climate chaos —we must be climate resilient. This type of resilience goes further: it’s about the capacity of individuals, communities, and ecosystems to anticipate, prepare for, and respond to the impacts of the climate crisis. That ability to recover means more than rebuilding roads, bridges, hospitals, schools, and homes. It means enforcing environmental laws that prevent unsafe development, investing in nature-based solutions, and ensuring that recovery reaches everyone. It also means supporting community-led adaptation initiatives that are rooted in local knowledge and collective care.
Preparedness must become a culture, not a scramble, before a storm makes landfall. That includes maintaining drainage systems year-round, preserving wetlands that buffer storm surges, enforcing no-build zones and ensuring that technical experts, including meteorologists, hydrologists, and climate scientists—not just politicians—play visible roles in guiding public communication and action.
Hurricane Melissa forces us to confront this issue of climate justice. That’s why the Caribbean Climate Justice Alliance, a coalition of grassroots leaders, creatives, academics, and activists, is calling for bold, unified, justice-centered action at COP30 happening right now in Brazil. The message to world leaders is clear:
This message reflects the lived realities of people across our islands. Hurricane Melissa has reminded us of our vulnerability, but also of our strength, our knowledge, and our capacity to lead. In the coming weeks and months, as relief turns to recovery, we must also keep an eye on transformation. The choices we make now about how we rebuild our towns and cities, as well as how we support farmers, fishers, and community groups will determine whether the next storm brings the same level of devastation.
Let Hurricane Melissa mark not just a moment to rebuild, but a turning point for radical and just changes that are long overdue.
The rich world—represented mostly by the US, though with parts of Europe and Canada playing supporting roles—has decided that if anyone’s going to deal with climate change it’s not going to be us.
In a rational world, it would have made sense for the rich countries to take the lead in fighting climate change. After all, it was rich countries got that way precisely by burning fossil fuel in the two centuries since the Industrial Revolution, and it’s the Global South that is paying most of the price in terms of drought, flood, and fire.
That’s why, since the international climate negotiations began 30 years ago, the assumption has been that the Global North should lead the way—we had “common but differentiated responsibilities” for the future, and the job of the north was to help finance the transition away from dirty energy.

But as this year’s round of global climate talks get underway in Belém, it’s becoming clear that this commonsensical (and moral) understanding of the situation has been essentially turned on its head. If there’s going to be a solution, for now it’s mostly going to come from the poorer nations of the world. The chart above shows China—it’s emissions of carbon dioxide have apparently now peaked, or at least plateaued. It should come as no great wonder to readers of this newsletter why: Their barely believable expansion of clean carbon-free energy has been the most important technological story since… the Industrial Revolution. And it shows no signs of stopping. Here, for example, is a picture of a new offshore wind turbine that the Chinese are testing.

You might notice that it has two heads instead of one. As You Ziaojing reports in Scientific American:
With a capacity of 50 MW, this supersized structure is designed to float on the ocean’s surface and can withstand typhoons, according to the company, which plans to start making the turbine later this year and to deploy it next year.
Han Yujia, a researcher of renewable energy at the California-based nonprofit Global Energy Monitor, is most impressed that Ming Yang intends to increase a turbine’s capacity by more than 20 MW in one go, far outpacing the industry’s average rate of increase of 2-3 MW each year.
If you want to read more about the spectacular events in China, the Economist has a special issue on the subject—the key articles are here, here, and here, and just to give you a sense of what’s happening there:
The scale of the renewables revolution in China is almost too vast for the human mind to grasp. By the end of last year, the country had installed 887 gigawatts of solar-power capacity—close to double Europe’s and America’s combined total. The 22m tonnes of steel used to build new wind turbines and solar panels in 2024 would have been enough to build a Golden Gate Bridge on every working day of every week that year. China generated 1,826 terawatt-hours of wind and solar electricity in 2024, five times more than the energy contained in all 600 of its nuclear weapons.
In the context of the cold war, the distinctive measure of a “superpower” was the combination of a continental span and a world-threatening nuclear arsenal. The coming-together of China’s enormous manufacturing capacity and its ravenous appetite for copious, cheap, domestically produced electricity deserves to be seen in a similar world-changing light. They have made China a new type of superpower: One which deploys clean electricity on a planetary scale.
But this miracle is verging on "old news—I’ve been telling the tale since my book came out earlier this year, always to somewhat amazed audiences.
The next half of the story is what’s unfolding around the rest of the developing world, as countries increasingly look to China, not the US, for leadership. Here’s what André Corrěa de Lago, the Brazilian diplomat chairing the COP30 conference, told reporters earlier this week:
“China is coming up with solutions that are for everyone, not just China,” he said. “Solar panels are cheaper, they’re so competitive [compared with fossil fuel energy] that they are everywhere now. If you’re thinking of climate change, this is good.”
You can see this showing up in many ways around the world. In Pakistan, for instance:
Between 2022 and 2024 trade statistics show Pakistan’s annual imports of Chinese-made solar panels increasing almost fivefold to 16 gigawatts. In the first nine months of 2025 it imported another 16GW. By the end of this year, its cumulative solar imports are expected roughly to match the installed generation capacity of the national power system—capacity augmented quite recently by four spanking new coal-fired plants built and financed by China as part of its global Belt and Road infrastructure scheme.
Since 2022 the power providers responsible for that legacy capacity have seen their revenues plummet. Power consumption from the grid has dropped by around 12%. With new solar users increasingly likely to install Chinese-made batteries that allow them to enjoy access to electricity after sunset, that fall looks likely to continue.
Never to be outdone by Pakistan, word comes from India that giant conglomerate Tata—biggest provider of everything from defense equipment to tea—is now building the country’s biggest factory for making the polysilicon ingots that are the foundation of solar cells. As N.R. Sethuraman reports:
Some Indian companies have shifted focus to producing cells as well as ingots and wafers, as higher US tariffs on Indian products have made solar module exports less attractive.
“We find that there’s already adequate capacity of modules and many cell plants are under construction in India,” Sinha said on a post-earnings call, justifying his firm’s plan to set up a wafers and ingots factory.
So far, Adani Group has set up a plant to produce 2 GW of ingots and wafers annually.
Tata Power’s plans align with the Indian federal government’s push for increased use of locally made ingots and wafers for solar panel manufacturing to cut reliance on imports from China towards the end of the decade.
But it’s not just at the high end of the business world. Consider Yamuna Mathewsaran’s report on how Jordanian mechanics are building a big business out of recycling EV batteries to backup home solar systems:
EV batteries that are classed as end-of-life may still retain up to 80% of their original capacity, according to the International Energy Agency, which means they can still be used in second-life applications, such as household energy storage.
“I’ve seen and heard of spent batteries being hooked up to solar systems or other local power setups, often at family farms or vacation homes in semi-remote areas,” said Fadwa Dababneh, C-Hub’s director.
As well as saving money on bills and reducing battery waste, using spent batteries for energy storage stabilises the electricity grid as Jordan aims to get half of its power from renewables by 2030, up from 29% today.
This, of course, is in dire contrast to the abdication of responsibility underway in the West, especially in the US. I’m not going to go into more bloody detail than is necessary, but:
At COP26 in Glasgow in 2021, the UK, the US, the EU and other countries forged the global methane pledge, requiring a cut in methane of 30% by 2030. About 159 countries subsequently signed up.
Yet emissions from some of the main signatories have increased, data from the satellite analysis company Kayrros shows, which is likely to further raise global temperatures. Collectively, emissions from six of the biggest signatories—the US, Australia, Kuwait, Turkmenistan, Uzbekistan and Iraq—are now 8.5% above the 2020 level.
Kuwait and Australia have made progress on cutting their emissions but emissions from US oil and gas operations have increased by 18%.
Again, this is disgusting, and it will get worse. Under fracking exec energy secretary Christopher Wright, America is rolling back its modest methane reporting requirements
US consumers—who Mr Trump promised lower bills—will end up paying more because he also made renewable energy more expensive.
And that’s to say nothing of the impact on carbon emissions.
This “greenlash” has extended to other parts of the Western world—as the always sage activist and analyst Luisa Neubauer writes from Germany:
When searching for explanations for the paradoxical decrease in governments’ efforts at a time when climate threats are dramatically increasing, many land on three forces: public fatigue, financial constraints, and geopolitical instability. All three are real.
But none, as she points out, are good reasons for slowing down, and indeed:
Decarbonising economies that have throughout their existence depended on fossil fuels is complicated, and will only become more so. But there is no more important task for governments than finding ways through these challenges and forging alliances of the willing to protect life. If common politics doesn’t grow a spine, then public commentators must—for the sake of, well, everything.
In fact, a new report from the think tank Ember makes clear that Europe will benefit immensely from quick electrification. And indeed, there are signs that Europe will still push ahead. They’re coming, interestingly, from the central European countries long considered the continent’s coal belt. As Gavin Maguire writes:
Power systems across Central Europe—hardly known for its sunny skies—are emerging as surprise leaders in global energy transition efforts through canny use of solar parks and locally-made battery energy storage systems.
Several major Central European economies—including Austria, Hungary, Romania, and Poland—have sharply boosted the share of utility electricity production from solar farms since 2022 as part of efforts to boost home-grown energy supplies.
Between 2022 and 2025 there has been a 472% rise in battery energy storage capacity within Austria, Hungary, and Romania alone, according to local utility filings.
Even in America there are signs of life. Some of these are built on sheer momentum: Texas, for instance, just signed up two huge new solar farms, which together will deliver a gigawatt of power. But there are also signs of spirited resistance. California Gov. Gavin Newsom went to Belém representing the world’s fourth largest economy, and he said Trump was “doubling down on stupid” when it came to climate. Illinois Gov. JB Pritzker keeps winning high marks for his climate policy too, and shows no sign of slowing down.
But as Wen Stephenson points out in a new essay in The Nation, overall it’s been the worst year ever for American climate politics, with many theoretically environmentally conscious politicians retreating under the cover provided by the likes of Bill Gates. In Stephenson’s Massachusetts, for example, despite the noble leadership of Boston Mayor Michelle Wu and Sen. Ed Markey, and the behind-the-scenes steadfastness of Gov. Maura Healey’s crack climate team, the state legislature is considering cutting and running. Rep. Mark Cusack is pushing hard for a bill to weaken the state’s climate goals, in essence arguing that Trump is making it too hard. In essence, the state’s plan to cut emissions in half would become “advisory and unenforceable.” Meanwhile, in New York, the increasingly egregious Gov. Kathy Hochul (named to Time’s Climate 100 list despite an almost year-long blockage of congestion pricing laws) has not only come out for a new gas pipeline backed by Trump, but also, to use the headline supplied by Politico, “approved a permit for a gas-fired cryptocurrency miner.” Now there’s leadership for the ages!
What it all adds up to is that the rich world—represented mostly by the US, though with parts of Europe and Canada playing supporting roles—has decided that if anyone’s going to deal with climate change it’s not going to be us. We got so rich burning fossil fuels that any sacrifice—or any change at all, since at this point sun and wind are the cheapest forms of power we know—seems like an impossible affront. Some of us will keep working hard to change that immorality, but in the meantime it’s apparently up to the poorest people on Earth to deal with the problems we caused. As Somini Sengupta and Brad Plumer report from Belém:
Countries like Brazil, India, and Vietnam are rapidly expanding solar and wind power. Poorer countries like Ethiopia and Nepal are leapfrogging over gasoline-burning cars to battery-powered ones. Nigeria, a petrostate, plans to build its first solar-panel manufacturing plant. Morocco is creating a battery hub to supply European automakers. Santiago, the capital of Chile, has electrified more than half of its bus fleet in recent years.
Nothing fair about it, but the only consolation for those countries is that they’re building low-cost energy economies that before long will outcompete lazy and complacent America.
This is the new face of global inequality: Countries that contributed least to the crisis are being made to pay twice—first through climate impacts, and then through debt.
As deadly storms ripped through the Caribbean, a new United Nations report delivered a sobering warning: The world is failing to prepare for the climate it has already created.
The UN Environment Programme’s Adaptation Gap Report 2025, aptly titled Running on Empty, finds that developing nations will need between US$310 and $365 billion annually by 2035 to cope with intensifying climate impacts. Yet, international public finance for adaptation fell to just US$26 billion in 2023, down from US$28 billion the previous year. The result: Only one-twelfth of what’s needed is being delivered.
This gap is not an abstract number. It’s visible in the wreckage of homes, farms, and economies across our region. Last month, Hurricane Melissa, the strongest-ever storm to hit Jamaica, tore through the Caribbean, leaving destruction equivalent to nearly 30% of the island’s GDP. With at least 75 lives lost and damages exceeding US$50 billion, Melissa is not just another storm; it is a case study in the cost of global inaction.
A rapid attribution study found that climate change made Melissa four times more likely and increased its wind speeds by 7%, raising damages by around 12%. For Haiti, Jamaica, and other small island developing states (SIDS), such storms bring unbearable losses eroding livelihoods, tourism revenues, and vital infrastructure. These countries contribute the least to global emissions yet bear the highest costs.
Adaptation finance should not create more debt.
The pattern repeats globally. This year’s monsoon floods in Pakistan displaced 7 million people and destroyed thousands of homes. Whether in South Asia or the Caribbean, the message is clear: The failure to invest in adaptation is costing lives.
Adaptation is not a distant goal; it is an urgent necessity. It means building stronger flood defenses, adopting climate-smart agriculture, and developing social protection systems that safeguard the most vulnerable. Research by the International Institute for Environment and Development (IIED) shows that every US$1 invested early in resilience saves more than US$5 in avoided losses. Yet, the world continues to spend far more on disaster relief than on prevention.
Every dollar delayed multiplies the human and economic toll. In Haiti, where communities are already grappling with political instability, weak infrastructure, and high poverty, each storm magnifies vulnerabilities. The Caribbean, with its densely populated coastal areas and economies heavily dependent on tourism and agriculture, cannot afford to treat adaptation as optional.
At COP29 in Baku, governments pledged through the Baku to Belém Roadmap to mobilize US$1.3 trillion by 2035, including at least US$300 billion annually for developing nations. On paper, this looks ambitious. In reality, it falls far short of what is needed. Adjusted for inflation, adaptation costs could reach US$440-520 billion per year by 2035, and the US$300 billion target covers both mitigation and adaptation, with no separate adaptation goal yet defined.
Adaptation finance was meant to help nations prepare for rising seas, harsher droughts, and lethal floods. Yet, when those funds don’t arrive, countries are forced to borrow. In 2023, 59 least developed countries (LDCs) and Small Island Developing States (SIDS) paid US$37 billion to service their debts and received only US$32 billion in climate finance. These aren’t productive investments but emergency debts taken just to rebuild what has already been lost.
This is the new face of global inequality: Countries that contributed least to the crisis are being made to pay twice—first through climate impacts, and then through debt. And while the rhetoric of “resilience” fills summit halls, the financial architecture remains rigged against the Global South. Only 15% of adaptation finance in recent years has been delivered as grants; the rest comes as loans. For every dollar of “climate support,” developing nations are paying back many more in interest.
The IIED notes that less than 10% of global climate finance reaches the local level, while international credit rating systems penalize small and vulnerable economies for their exposure to climate risks making it harder for them to attract investment in resilience. These structural barriers are blocking climate justice.
So what should change?
Adaptation finance should not create more debt. Countries hit by climate disasters need grants, not loans, because these crises are caused by global emissions, not their own failures. Second, global lending rules must change. The IMF and World Bank should consider pausing repayments after major disasters. Forcing countries to rebuild while paying high interest is unfair and makes recovery harder. Third, regional cooperation must grow stronger. Shared projects prove that joint action works. Regional funds, supported by concessional finance and local expertise, can deliver faster results than slow global systems.
Adaptation is not charity. It is justice and economic common sense. Without equitable support and reparations, the Global South would sink further and keep on building the same roads and homes after every flood, hurricane, and storm. This is not only senseless but also highly unjust. It is time for the Global North to take responsibility, after all its only fair that the poor and vulnerable shouldn’t have to fix a crisis they didn’t create while drowning in debt.