Do UN climate talks have a point any more?

A photograph, captured a decade ago in the vibrant city of Paris, now stands as a poignant relic of a bygone era. In it, a formidable lineup of world leaders, dozens strong, stands united in dark suits before a colossal banner proclaiming "COP21 Paris." At its heart, then-UK Prime Minister David Cameron beams, flanked by the future King Charles III and China’s Xi Jinping. Further along, the then-US President Barack Obama is deep in conversation, partially obscured by the sheer multitude of dignitaries. The image speaks volumes of a moment of collective ambition, a united front against the gravest threat facing humanity, where photographers genuinely struggled to fit all the attending heads of state into a single frame. This assembly included not only those pictured but also figures like Vladimir Putin and Narendra Modi, all gathered with a shared, palpable sense of purpose to forge the historic Paris Agreement.

Fast forward to the present, and the "family photograph" from this year’s COP30 summit in Belém, Brazil, tells a starkly different story. The grand procession of leaders is conspicuously absent. Xi Jinping and Narendra Modi were notable no-shows, alongside the heads of government from approximately 160 other nations. Most significantly, the US President Donald Trump, who has actively disengaged from the process, did not attend, and his administration made it clear it would not dispatch any high-level officials. This dramatic shift raises a critical question: why persist with a two-week-long, resource-intensive multinational gathering if so many of the world’s most influential decision-makers are absent?

The skepticism is not new. Christiana Figueres, the former head of the UN’s climate process, whose tireless leadership was instrumental in securing the Paris Agreement, openly stated during last year’s gathering that the COP process was "not fit for purpose." Echoing this sentiment, Joss Garman, a seasoned climate activist who now leads the Loom think tank, starkly observes, "The golden era for multilateral diplomacy is over." He contends that contemporary climate politics is increasingly defined by the struggle for economic advantage, "about who captures and controls the economic benefits of new energy industries." With global carbon dioxide emissions continuing their upward trajectory despite 29 previous conferences explicitly aimed at reducing them, the efficacy of additional COPs becomes a pressing concern.

Donald Trump’s return to office has undeniably cast a long shadow over international climate efforts. On his very first day, he wielded his signature marker pen to formalize the US withdrawal from the Paris Agreement, the landmark 2015 UN treaty designed to limit global warming to 1.5°C. His rhetoric has been consistently hostile to climate action, famously declaring at the UN General Assembly 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."

His administration’s actions have matched his words: a systematic rollback of restrictions on oil, gas, and coal, the signing of billions of dollars in tax breaks for fossil fuel companies, and the opening of vast federal lands for extraction. Furthermore, Trump and his team have aggressively pressured 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 committed to tens of billions of dollars in US hydrocarbon imports. The objective is unequivocally clear: Trump aims to establish the US as the "number one energy superpower in the world" through fossil fuel dominance.

Concurrently, he has systematically dismantled his predecessor Joe Biden’s clean energy agenda. Subsidies and tax breaks for wind and solar projects have been drastically cut, permits withdrawn, and numerous projects canceled. Research funding for clean energy initiatives has also seen significant reductions. US Energy Secretary Chris Wright, when pressed on the administration’s policy, argued in September, "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." Conversely, John Podesta, a senior climate adviser to both Obama and Biden, views these actions as "taking a wrecking ball to clean energy" and a regressive step, aiming to "take us back not to the 20th Century, but the 19th." The impact of this policy extends globally; last month, a crucial deal to cut global shipping emissions collapsed after the US, in alliance with Saudi Arabia, successfully torpedoed the talks.

Many supporters of the COP process are deeply concerned about the potential ripple effect of the US stance. What if other nations, seeing America’s recalibration, also dial down their 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" given Trump’s position. She emphasizes, "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."

Trump’s "fossil fuels first" strategy places the US on a direct collision course with China, which has, over decades, pursued a contrasting path to dominate global energy supplies through clean technology. In 2023, clean technologies were the engine of roughly 40% of China’s economic growth, according to Carbon Brief. Despite a minor slowdown last year, renewables now account for a quarter of all new growth and represent over 10% of China’s entire economy. Crucially, China, much like Trump’s America, is engaging internationally far beyond mere participation in COP; it is actively globalizing its entire clean energy model. Rows upon rows of solar panels stretch across Chinese landscapes, a testament to its commitment to green tech.

This diverging approach has fundamentally reshaped the climate debate, transforming it into a geopolitical struggle between the world’s two superpowers for control of the most vital industry on Earth. This leaves nations like the UK, Europe, India, Indonesia, Turkey, and Brazil caught in the complex middle ground. A government source from a major developed country, speaking at this year’s conference, admitted, "Of all the things they’re most terrified of, the biggest is being seen to criticize Trump."

The President of the European Commission, Ursula von der Leyen, recently issued a stark warning that Europe must avoid repeating past mistakes by losing another strategic industry to China. She cited the 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 an astounding €2 trillion (£1.74 trillion) within a decade, with Europe aiming to capture at least 15% of this growth. However, this ambition might 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 (a similar share), electric vehicles (70%), and wind turbines (over 60%) is, he argues, "virtually unassailable." He vividly likens it to attempting to beat the Chinese national team at 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." China achieves this dominance by producing these technologies at phenomenally low prices. The EU’s recent decision to raise tariffs on Chinese EVs highlights the immense dilemma: an open market risks collapsing Europe’s domestic car industry, yet protectionist measures could hinder the achievement of green targets by making clean tech more expensive. 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 seismic shifts in global politics and priorities, Anna Aberg now anticipates that COP will evolve into an annual forum primarily for "holding to account" countries and other organizations, a role she believes remains "important." The gathering in Brazil takes place against a backdrop of grave warnings. UN Secretary-General António Guterres has acknowledged that the 1.5°C target set in Paris will be breached, a failure he describes as "deadly negligence" by the global community. Last year was the hottest ever recorded, and in June, 60 leading climate scientists projected that the Earth could breach 1.5°C in as little as three years at current emission levels. These alarming realities fuel further questioning of the need for an annual, large-scale gathering.

Michael Liebreich, founder of Bloomberg New Energy Finance and host of the "Cleaning Up" podcast, suggests a more streamlined approach: "I think we need one big COP every five years. And between that, I’m not sure what COP is for." He contends that politicians cannot be expected to make endless commitments without allowing time for industries to develop and for the "real economy to catch up." Liebreich advocates for more productive, smaller meetings focused on dismantling barriers to clean energy implementation. He also believes that crucial discussions about funding should occur in more relevant locations, such as Wall Street, "where people can actually fund stuff," rather than in a humid town on the edge of the Brazilian rainforest.

Nevertheless, significant negotiations are still underway at this year’s COP. Among them is the push for a multi-billion-dollar fund dedicated to supporting the world’s vital rainforests, including the Amazon and the Congo Basin. Michael Jacobs, who advised Gordon Brown on climate policy and is now a politics professor at Sheffield University, maintains that continued collective support for the COP process is "crucial." He argues, "It’s 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, remains a staunch defender of these meetings, crediting them with driving real progress by compelling countries to confront climate change and implement policies that have fueled the renewable energy revolution. He describes the process as "dry, it’s complicated, it’s anguished, it’s tiring," but concludes, "and it’s absolutely necessary."

While many now accept a strong argument for scaling down these international gatherings, the underlying choice for numerous attending nations ultimately boils down to aligning with a China-led clean energy revolution or doubling down on a fossil-fuels-first agenda. This evolving dynamic leads many observers to conclude that the process of decarbonization will increasingly be less about the grand, multi-country commitments of COPs past, and far more about big-money deals and strategic alliances forged between individual nations. This new reality will undoubtedly shape how COPs may well play out in the future, transitioning from broad consensus-building to a more complex, economically driven landscape.