Do UN climate talks have a point any more?

A photograph taken ten years ago at COP21 in Paris serves as a stark relic of a bygone era. In it, dozens of world leaders, immaculately suited, lined up before a massive COP21 Paris sign. The image captures a moment of apparent global consensus and shared purpose, with figures like the UK’s then-Prime Minister David Cameron, future King Charles III, China’s Xi Jinping, and then-US President Barack Obama all present, almost too numerous for the photographer to frame. This unified front led to the landmark Paris Agreement, a universal treaty committing nations to limit global warming to well below 2°C, preferably to 1.5°C, above pre-industrial levels. It represented the zenith of multilateral climate diplomacy.

Fast forward to the family photograph taken on Thursday at COP30 in Brazil, and the contrast is striking. The once-crowded stage is noticeably sparse. China’s Xi Jinping and India’s Narendra Modi were conspicuous no-shows, along with the heads of state from approximately 160 other countries. Most notably, the US President Donald Trump was absent, his administration having completely exited the process and refusing to send any high-level officials. This significant drop in top-tier participation raises a critical question: why persist with a two-week-long multinational gathering if so many of the world’s most powerful leaders are opting out?

The disillusionment is not new. Christiana Figueres, the former head of the UN’s climate process who was instrumental in forging the Paris Agreement, openly declared during last year’s gathering that the COP process was "not fit for purpose." Echoing this sentiment, Joss Garman, a former climate activist now leading the think tank Loom, contends that "the golden era for multilateral diplomacy is over." Garman suggests that "climate politics is now more than ever about who captures and controls the economic benefits of new energy industries." With global carbon dioxide emissions still on the rise despite 29 previous COPs ostensibly aimed at reducing them, the underlying utility of these annual gatherings is under intense scrutiny.

A primary driver of this shift is the resurgence of Donald Trump and his staunchly anti-climate change stance. Upon returning to office, Trump swiftly used his trademark marker pen to formally withdraw the US from the Paris Agreement, fulfilling a campaign promise. His rhetoric has been consistently hostile to climate action, famously declaring to the UN General Assembly in September that "This ‘climate change’ – it’s the greatest con job ever perpetrated on the world. If you don’t get away from this green scam, your country is going to fail."

Trump’s policy agenda reflects this conviction. He has systematically rolled back environmental regulations, lifted restrictions on oil, gas, and coal extraction, and signed into law billions of dollars in tax breaks for fossil fuel companies. Furthermore, his administration has actively opened up vast federal lands for further exploration and extraction. Internationally, Trump and his team have aggressively lobbied governments worldwide to abandon their "pathetic" renewable energy programs in favor of purchasing US oil and gas, even threatening punitive tariffs for non-compliance. Countries like Japan, South Korea, and various European nations have already agreed to substantial deals worth tens of billions for US hydrocarbons. The overarching objective is unambiguous: Trump aims to solidify the US as the "number one energy superpower in the world" through fossil fuel dominance, while simultaneously dismantling his predecessor Joe Biden’s clean energy initiatives, slashing subsidies for wind and solar, withdrawing permits, and cancelling projects. US Energy Secretary Chris Wright, defending the administration’s stance, argued, "Wind power in the United States has been subsidised for 33 years – isn’t that enough? You’ve got to be able to walk on your own after 25 to 30 years of subsidies." This approach, however, has drawn sharp criticism from figures like John Podesta, a senior climate adviser to both Obama and Biden, who warns that "The United States is taking a wrecking ball to clean energy. They’re trying to take us back not to the 20th Century, but the 19th."

The impact of this US policy is already being felt globally. Last month, a crucial deal aimed at cutting global shipping emissions collapsed after the US, in concert with Saudi Arabia, successfully ended the negotiations. This aggressive pivot by a major global power leaves many climate advocates deeply concerned. The worry is that the US path will embolden other nations to scale back their own climate commitments. Anna Aberg, a Research Fellow at Chatham House’s Environment and Society Centre, acknowledges that COP is "taking place in a really difficult political context" due to Trump’s position. She stresses, "I think 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."

Paradoxically, Trump’s strategy places the US on a direct collision course with China, which has, for decades, pursued a contrasting path to global energy dominance: through clean technology. China’s investment in renewable energy, electric vehicles (EVs), and advanced battery technologies has been colossal. In 2023, clean technologies were responsible for roughly 40% of China’s economic growth, according to Carbon Brief, and now account for over 10% of its entire economy. Like Trump’s America, China’s engagement extends far beyond mere participation in COP; it is actively exporting its entire clean energy model globally.

This emerging geopolitical split has fundamentally reshaped the climate debate. It is no longer solely about environmental stewardship but has evolved into a fierce economic and strategic rivalry between the world’s two superpowers for control over the planet’s most critical industry. This leaves other significant global players, including the UK, Europe, India, Indonesia, Turkey, and Brazil, in a precarious middle ground. A government source from a major developed country, speaking at this year’s conference, articulated the prevailing fear: “Of all the things they’re most terrified of, the biggest is being seen to criticise Trump.”

European leaders, particularly, find themselves in a bind. The President of the European Commission, Ursula von der Leyen, recently warned Europe against repeating "the mistakes of the past" by losing another strategic industry to China, citing the prior loss of Europe’s solar manufacturing base to cheaper Chinese rivals as "a cautionary tale we must not forget." The European Commission projects that the market for renewables and other clean energy sources will balloon from €600 billion (£528 billion) to a staggering €2 trillion (£1.74 trillion) within a decade, with Europe aiming to capture at least 15% of this burgeoning market.

However, many experts believe this ambition may be too little, too late. Li Shuo, director of the China Climate Hub at the Asia Policy Institute, asserts that "China is already the world’s clean-tech superpower." Its dominance in solar panels (over 80% of global production), advanced batteries, EVs (70%), and wind turbines (over 60%), coupled with phenomenally low production costs, is "virtually unassailable." He vividly compares trying to surpass China in clean tech to challenging the Chinese national team in table tennis: "If you want to surpass China, you had to get your act together 25 years ago. If you want to do it now, you have no hope." The EU’s recent decision to impose tariffs on Chinese EVs highlights the immense dilemma: opening markets risks devastating domestic industries, while closing them could impede green transition targets. Joss Garman acknowledges that restricting Chinese market access might slow emissions reductions but argues that "If we ignore questions about economic security, jobs, national security, that risks undermining public and political support for the entire climate effort."

Given these profound shifts in global politics and priorities, what future, if any, remains for COP? Anna Aberg believes COP will transform into an annual forum primarily for "holding to account" countries and other organizations, a role she still considers "important." The urgency of this accountability is underscored by the dire climate reality: UN Secretary-General António Guterres has acknowledged that the 1.5°C target set in Paris will be breached, a failure he termed "deadly negligence." Last year was the hottest ever recorded, and in June, 60 leading climate scientists warned that Earth could permanently breach 1.5°C in as little as three years at current emission rates. These alarming statistics only amplify the questioning of an annual, large-scale gathering.

Michael Liebreich, founder of energy consultancy Bloomberg New Energy Finance and host of the "Cleaning Up" podcast, suggests a radical re-evaluation: "I think we need one big COP every five years. And between that, I’m not sure what COP is for." He argues against expecting politicians to make ever more commitments annually, stressing the need for time for industries to develop and the "real economy to catch up." Liebreich advocates for smaller, more focused meetings aimed at removing barriers to clean energy, suggesting that discussions around implementation and funding should occur in more relevant venues, such as Wall Street, "where people can actually fund stuff," rather than in a humid town on the edge of the Amazon rainforest.

Despite these criticisms, proponents argue for the continued necessity of COP. This year’s summit, for instance, aims to secure a multi-billion-dollar fund to support the world’s rainforests, including the Amazon and the Congo Basin, demonstrating that concrete, if challenging, negotiations still take place. Michael Jacobs, a politics professor at Sheffield University and former climate policy adviser to Gordon Brown, emphasizes the importance of sustained collective support. He views COP as sending "a big political message, because Donald Trump is trying to undermine the collective process, but it’s also a message to businesses that they should continue to invest in decarbonisation because governments will continue to enact climate policies." The UK’s Energy Secretary, Ed Miliband, maintains that these meetings have delivered tangible progress by fostering country engagement with climate change and facilitating the renewable energy revolution. He acknowledges them as "dry, complicated, anguished, it’s tiring," but ultimately, "it’s absolutely necessary."

While many now accept a strong argument for scaling down these international gatherings, the fundamental choice facing attending nations boils down to their alignment: with a China-led clean energy revolution, or with a fossil fuels-first agenda championed by the US. This ideological and economic schism suggests that the future of decarbonization will increasingly hinge not on broad, multi-country COP commitments, but on strategic, big-money deals forged between individual nations, reshaping how COPs, if they continue in their current form, will play out in the years to come.