Do UN climate talks have a point any more?

A photograph from a decade ago in Paris captures a moment that now feels like a relic of a bygone era. At COP21, dozens of world leaders, impeccably dressed, lined up before a massive banner, a testament to collective ambition. Among them, David Cameron and the future King Charles III smiled, while China’s Xi Jinping and then-US President Barack Obama, deep in conversation, underscored a shared commitment, however fragile, to address climate change. So many dignitaries were present that the photographer struggled to fit them all into a single frame, including figures like Vladimir Putin and Narendra Modi. That gathering in 2015 produced the landmark Paris Agreement, a universal accord to limit global warming to well below 2°C, preferably to 1.5°C, above pre-industrial levels. It represented the pinnacle of multilateral climate diplomacy, signaling a global consensus on the urgency of the climate crisis.

Fast forward to the COP30 summit in Belém, Brazil, and the stark contrast is undeniable. The "family photograph" taken this year showed a dramatically reduced attendance of heads of state. Notably absent were China’s Xi Jinping and India’s Narendra Modi, leaders of the world’s two most populous nations and significant carbon emitters. Even more striking was the complete absence of US President Donald Trump and any high-level officials from his administration, which has effectively disengaged from the UN climate process. This raises a pressing question: what is the purpose of a two-week-long multinational gathering when so many key global players are not present at the highest level?

The decline in high-level participation reflects a broader shift in the global political landscape. Christiana Figueres, the former head of the UN’s climate process who oversaw the Paris Agreement, voiced concerns last year that the COP process was "not fit for purpose." This sentiment is echoed by Joss Garman, a former climate activist now leading the Loom think tank, who bluntly states, "The golden era for multilateral diplomacy is over." Garman suggests that climate politics has evolved into a fierce competition for economic dominance, centered on who can "capture and control the economic benefits of new energy industries." With global carbon dioxide emissions still on the rise despite nearly thirty such annual meetings, the effectiveness and future trajectory of COPs are increasingly under scrutiny.

Donald Trump’s return to the US presidency has profoundly disrupted global climate efforts. On his first day back in office, he reportedly used his signature marker pen to withdraw the US from the Paris Agreement, fulfilling a long-held promise. His rhetoric has been consistently dismissive, famously declaring at the UN General Assembly that "this ‘climate change’ – it’s the greatest con job ever perpetrated on the world." He added, "If you don’t get away from this green scam, your country is going to fail." True to his word, his administration has systematically dismantled clean energy policies, rolling back restrictions on oil, gas, and coal, and signing billions of dollars in tax breaks for fossil fuel companies. Federal lands have been opened up for extraction, and the US has actively pressured allies like Japan, South Korea, and European nations to purchase American hydrocarbons, threatening punitive tariffs for non-compliance. Trump’s objective is clear: to establish the US as the "number one energy superpower in the world" through fossil fuel dominance. This agenda directly counteracts his predecessor Joe Biden’s clean energy initiatives, slashing subsidies for renewables and cutting research funding. John Podesta, a senior climate adviser to both Obama and Biden, starkly describes Trump’s actions as "taking a wrecking ball to clean energy" and pushing the US "back not to the 20th Century, but the 19th." The impact extends beyond domestic policy; a recent landmark deal to cut global shipping emissions was reportedly abandoned after the US, alongside Saudi Arabia, ended the talks. This aggressive stance by a major global power creates significant concern among supporters of the COP process, fearing a cascade effect where other nations might also dial down their climate commitments. Anna Aberg, a Research Fellow at Chatham House’s Environment and Society Centre, acknowledges the "really difficult political context" created by Trump’s position, stressing that "it’s more important than ever that this COP sends some kind of signal to the world that there are still governments and businesses and institutions that are acting on climate change."

This US strategy sets it on a direct collision course with China, which has for decades pursued a contrasting path to energy dominance through clean technology. In 2023, clean technologies were a formidable engine for China’s economy, accounting for roughly 40% of its growth, according to Carbon Brief. Despite a slight slowdown, renewables now contribute over 10% to China’s entire economy. Unlike the US, which has withdrawn from the formal UN process under Trump, China, while its top leader might skip the photo op, continues to engage globally through its "Belt and Road Initiative" which increasingly includes green energy projects. Its influence extends far beyond mere participation in COPs; China is actively globalizing its entire energy model. Rows of solar panels stretch across its landscapes, and its factories churn out the vast majority of the world’s solar cells, advanced batteries, and electric vehicles (EVs).

The economic split between the world’s two superpowers has fundamentally reshaped the climate debate. It has transformed the effort to decarbonize into a strategic competition for control over the planet’s most essential industries. This leaves other major economies, including the UK, Europe, India, Indonesia, Turkey, and Brazil, caught in a precarious middle. European Commission President Ursula von der Leyen recently warned against repeating past mistakes, referencing Europe’s loss of its solar manufacturing base to cheaper Chinese rivals as "a cautionary tale we must not forget." The EU forecasts that the market for renewables and other clean energy sources will balloon from €600 billion (£528 billion) to €2 trillion (£1.74 trillion) within a decade, with Europe aiming to capture at least 15% of this. However, this ambition might be too late. Li Shuo, director of the China Climate Hub at the Asia Policy Institute, asserts that China is already the "clean-tech superpower," with its dominance in solar, wind, EVs, and advanced battery technologies being "virtually unassailable." He humorously compares competing with China in this sector to trying to beat the Chinese national team at table tennis, suggesting that to succeed, competitors needed to act 25 years ago, as "now, you have no hope." China produces over 80% of the world’s solar panels, a similar share of advanced batteries, 70% of EVs, and more than 60% of wind turbines, all offered at remarkably low prices. The EU’s recent move to raise tariffs on Chinese EVs illustrates the profound dilemma: opening markets risks collapsing European industries, while closing them could hinder the achievement of green targets. Joss Garman acknowledges that restricting Chinese market access might slow emissions reductions but argues that ignoring "economic security, jobs, [and] national security" risks undermining broader public and political support for climate action.

Given these tectonic shifts in global politics and priorities, experts are re-evaluating the role of COPs. Anna Aberg believes COP will increasingly serve as an annual forum for "holding to account" countries and organizations, a function she considers "important." This comes as UN Secretary-General António Guterres acknowledged that the 1.5°C target from Paris will likely be breached, labeling it "deadly negligence." Last year was the hottest on record, and 60 leading climate scientists warned in June that the 1.5°C threshold could be crossed in as little as three years at current emission rates. This grim reality fuels questions about the need for annual gatherings. Michael Liebreich, founder of Bloomberg New Energy Finance, suggests a more pragmatic approach: "I think we need one big COP every five years. And between that, I’m not sure what COP is for." He argues that politicians cannot endlessly make commitments; industries need time to develop, and the "real economy to catch up." He proposes smaller, more focused meetings to remove barriers to clean energy, and suggests that discussions on implementation and funding should occur in places like Wall Street, "where people can actually fund stuff," rather than "on the edge of the Brazilian rainforest."

Yet, even in this changed landscape, many argue for the continued necessity of COPs. This year’s COP in Brazil, for instance, aims to secure a multi-billion-dollar fund to support the world’s rainforests, such as the Amazon and the Congo Basin – a tangible outcome distinct from broader emissions targets. Michael Jacobs, a politics professor at Sheffield University and former climate policy advisor to Gordon Brown, emphasizes the crucial "big political message" that continued collective support for the process sends. It counters efforts by figures like Donald Trump to undermine collective action and signals to businesses that governments will persist in enacting climate policies, encouraging continued investment in decarbonization. The UK’s Energy Secretary, Ed Miliband, maintains that these meetings have driven real progress by engaging countries and fostering policies that enabled the renewable energy revolution. He describes the process as "dry, complicated, anguished, [and] tiring," but insists it is "absolutely necessary."

While many now accept the strong argument for scaling down these international gatherings, the fundamental choice for attending nations remains: align with a China-led clean energy revolution or double down on a fossil-fuels-first agenda. This profound geopolitical and economic bifurcation suggests that the process of decarbonization will increasingly hinge less on the grand, multi-country commitments of past COPs and far more on high-stakes, big-money deals between individual nations. This shift will likely define the contours of climate action in the coming years and reshape how future COPs, if they continue in their current form, will play out.