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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.
AI that monitors planetary health without a justice framework becomes sophisticated surveillance rather than equitable care.
Seven of nine planetary boundaries have been breached. Climate change, biosphere collapse, freshwater depletion and, for the first time, ocean acidification. These boundaries are the vital signs of a planet teetering beyond the range that sustained human civilization for 12,000 years. Alarm bells ring in every chart and graph of the Planetary Health Check 2025, yet our collective response remains inadequate.
Meanwhile, a technological revolution is underway. Artificial intelligence now processes vast satellite datasets to deliver near-real-time indicators of Earth's health. Initiatives from the Potsdam Institute and Stockholm Resilience Centre envision leveraging the latest satellite data and AI to create enhanced Earth monitoring systems, where machine-learning algorithms track carbon dioxide emissions, detect deforestation as it happens, and flag ecosystem stress long before human eyes register the crisis. AI promises faster, more precise environmental intelligence than ever before.
But there is a troubling blind spot in this approach. These powerful systems can quantify atmospheric CO2 down to decimal points, yet they cannot capture which communities suffer first when planetary boundaries break. They report that 22.6% of global land faces freshwater disturbance in streamflow, yet satellite dashboards remain silent on who lacks safe drinking water. They classify aerosol loading as within "safe" global limits even as monsoon disruptions devastate millions of farmers. Precise metrics obscure systemic inequities.
When aerosol pollution over South Asia weakens the monsoon—a lifeline for more than a billion people—satellites detect changing moisture indices but ignore caste-based water access, rural poverty, and entrenched social vulnerabilities that determine who drowns and who survives. Scholars warn of "computational asymmetries" and neocolonial dynamics in AI for climate action, perpetuating power imbalances by extracting information without empowering affected communities.
If AI-driven planetary monitoring is to fulfill its promise, it must be designed to protect everyone, especially the most.
Moreover, who controls these AI systems? Research centers in Europe and North America design and deploy them. Satellites are launched by NASA, the European Space Agency, and private firms. Datasets and codes are often proprietary. Access barriers exclude local researchers and grassroots organizations from meaningful participation. As a result, climate solutions driven by AI risk concentrating power in the same institutions that shaped the crisis rather than democratizing environmental protection.
This is not a call to reject AI in environmental science. On the contrary, these tools can transform early warning systems, improve emissions accounting, and optimize conservation strategies. The challenge lies in embedding justice at their core. We must ask urgent questions: Who has access to the data? Who shapes the algorithms? Who defines the metrics of success? AI that monitors planetary health without a justice framework becomes sophisticated surveillance rather than equitable care.
First, codesign monitoring systems with frontline communities. Indigenous Peoples, smallholder farmers, informal settlements—they possess critical local knowledge about changing environmental conditions. Participatory data collection initiatives, community-controlled sensor networks, and open-source platforms can bridge global datasets with ground truth.
Second, adopt data sovereignty principles. Data gathered from the Global South must remain accessible to local stakeholders. Intellectual property should not become a barrier to research and advocacy. Partnerships between Western labs and regional institutions must prioritize capacity building and fair data governance, following frameworks like CARE Principles for Indigenous Data Governance.
Third, expand AI metrics beyond biophysical variables. Incorporate indicators of social vulnerability—income inequality, water access, health outcomes—to contextualize environmental data. For example, freshwater disturbance indices should be mapped alongside demographic data on marginalized groups.
Finally, dedicate funding to interdisciplinary teams blending Earth system scientists, social scientists, and justice advocates. Building equitable AI systems requires collaboration across domains. Grant programs should support projects that integrate algorithm development with community engagement and policy analysis.
The machines watching our planet's vital signs can tell us when thresholds are crossed. They cannot tell us who pays the price. If AI-driven planetary monitoring is to fulfill its promise, it must be designed to protect everyone, especially the most vulnerable, rather than just refine our awareness of a crisis we're already failing to solve.
Here, justice must guide the next revolution in environmental intelligence.
One researcher called the projections "an impending disaster" for low-income nations.
An ominous new study in the Lancet medical journal projects that deaths from cancer will surge over the next two-and-a-half decades, with lower-income countries set to be the hardest hit.
The study, which was released on Wednesday, estimates that there will be 18.6 million cancer deaths and 30.5 million cancer cases in 2030. The estimated number of cancer deaths would represent a nearly 75% increase from the estimated 10.4 million cancer deaths in 2023.
The study explains that the forecasted death increases "are greater in low-income and middle-income countries" than in wealthy nations, and that most of the projected increases are likely to come from an older population, not a rise in the lethality of cancer overall.
All the same, the study warns that the total increase in cancer cases and deaths will put a strain on global health systems.
"Effectively and sustainably addressing cancer burden globally will require comprehensive national and international efforts that consider health systems and context in the development and implementation of cancer-control strategies across the continuum of prevention, diagnosis, and treatment," the study says.
Meghnath Dhimal, chief research officer at the Nepal Health Research Council, who worked on the study, told Euronews that the projections showed "an impending disaster" for low-income nations. Dhimal also said that these nations needed to do more to improve their citizens' access to cancer screenings and treatments to prevent their systems from potentially being overwhelmed.
"There are cost-effective interventions for cancer in countries at all stages of development," he said.
Dr. Theo Vos, a researcher at the Institute for Health Metrics and Evaluation who helped author the study, told Euronews that the incidence of cancer could be significantly reduced by lowering tobacco use, unsafe sex, obesity, and high blood sugar, among other factors.
"There are tremendous opportunities for countries to target these risk factors, potentially preventing cases of cancer and saving lives," Vos explained.