Article
Climate
Comment
Politics
5 min read

Climate meets politics at UN summits, so who will save us?

It's that time of year when commitments to change are sought. Is there a different way to power the energy transition?

Juila is a writer and social justice advocate. 

A fallen statute with tyre tracks over it lies on the steps to a government building, in a form of protest.
Climate protest, Berlin.
Nico Roicke on Unsplash.

We’re coming up to a tipping point: the autumn equinox, when the balance of light and dark shifts. For some, this season change still carries the possibility of September – new term, fresh notebook; for others, myself included, there’s more a feeling of ‘here we go again’ with the nights closing in and the hurtle to the end of another year. 

On the global scale, it also kicks off the pattern of international summits and negotiations to drive progress on making this world, our world, a bit fairer, safer, and more hopeful. World leaders gather in New York for the United Nations (UN) General Assembly; then it won’t be long until the next UN Climate Summit (COP29) in Baku, swiftly followed by discussions in Busan to create a new UN Treaty to end plastic pollution. Perhaps that draws another sigh; here we go again.  

But there’s something new this time on the agenda in New York: the UN’s Summit of the Future on 22-23 September. It is being touted as a ‘once-in-a-generation’ opportunity to forge a better way forward. Will this be the moment that saves not just us, but future generations and the natural world too?  

A few years ago, I was involved in organising an event that brought together experts in sustainable development from science, government and civil society. To get the conversation going, we wrote this question on a flipchart: What will save us over the next decade? We asked people to cast their vote with a sticker, giving them just three options: government; society; technology.  

As people gathered around, we noticed a general pattern emerging: 

  • the scientists voted for government  

  • the civil servants voted for society  

  • people from civil society voted for technology 

There seemed to be subtext to all this: 
 
‘Who will save us?  

Not me.’ 

I wonder if in that moment, the people voting – knowledgeable and connected, experts in their industries – were feeling the limits of their power.

When we brush up against our own limitations, it can be tempting to look elsewhere for reassurance. I find hope in a too-little-known story of change, a kind of David and Goliath story  , that cuts across government, society and technology. A story that has seen leaders held to account, voices heard and literally billions of dollars shifted out of fossil fuels and into clean energy. 
 

It might seem distant from our day to day lives, such wrangling over exact punctuation at global summits. But these commitments can have long-lasting influence.

People said it was impossible, because no one had ever done it before. For decades, the UK and other wealthy nations provided billions in taxpayers’ money for fossil fuel projects in other countries around the world. People’s taxes were spent on a gas plant in Mozambique, oil fields in Brazil, thereby fuelling the climate crisis and risking locking low-income countries into using fossil fuels for decades to come instead of investing in the clean energy transition. 
 
This is a transition that has begun. In most places around the world, solar and wind are cheaper and more easily accessible than oil, gas or coal. Power is transformational; it fuels homes, schools and hospitals, it unlocks jobs, education and healthcare. And it’s getting to the point where there’s little reason it can’t be renewable.  
 
With the technology getting there, it became time for the political will to shift too. So, a few years ago, a small group of campaigners came together to push for an end to this funding in the UK. They built relationships with MPs and civil servants, they got the media interested in this fairly niche issue, and they worked with the communities affected by UK-funded projects, coming with a straight-forward message that got to the heart of the injustice: stop funding fossil fuels overseas.  
 
And it worked. In December 2020, the UK announced an end to all taxpayer support for overseas fossil fuel projects, the first high-income country to do this. But not the last. In the run up to the 2021 UN Climate Summit, campaigners and civil servants worked to get 38 more countries and large banks to make the same commitment to end funding for fossil fuels and shift it into renewable energy projects. With Norway and Australia joining at COP28 last year, that group now numbers 41, and represents over $28 billion a year that could be shifted from fossil fuels and into clean energy.  
 
It’s not been plain sailing, and it’s not fully in the bag. For a few years, I got work alongside the incredible advocates at the frontline of this work. A few weeks ago, some of them published a new report which found good progress on the fossil fuels part of the pledge but much more work needed from governments on getting that money into the renewable energy projects that could be transformative for the 685 million people who currently don’t have access to electricity.

This story reminds me that ‘saving us’ isn’t a once and done thing. It’s bigger than that; something to be lived out, imperfectly, with others, over the years.

One of the hot topics at the Summit for the Future, is whether the leaders can agree to transition away from fossil fuels in a new ‘Pact for the Future’, echoing language that was fought for, weakened, then mostly put back into the final commitment made at COP28 last year. (This counts as a high stakes drama in the climate policy world). It might seem distant from our day to day lives, such wrangling over exact punctuation at global summits. But these commitments can have long-lasting influence. For nearly 80 years, the Universal Declaration of Human Rights has been protecting people – or showing the gap when their rights are being violated.

And really, this isn’t just about words, it’s about power.

Part of the problem with our question on that flipchart was that it divorced people and opportunities, rather than bringing them together. The best way of driving change is to build collective power, holding each other and our decision-makers to account.

Perhaps thinking of the future brings more fear than hope. But this story reminds me that ‘saving us’ isn’t a once and done thing. It’s bigger than that; something to be lived out, imperfectly, with others, over the years. And lived out with God. This is a partnership that he invites us into: to join in his work of seeing a world full of potential being nurtured and restored. We might not see the whole change we hope for, but sometimes we’ll get to see the scales tip.

The energy transition has begun – but it’ll take the collective influence of a movement of people to ensure that it’s fast, fair and serves those who need it most. With a big gap remaining between the finance needed and the finance pledged, all eyes are on this year's COP29 in Baku to see tangible progress.

Here we go again.

Article
Comment
Leading
Politics
War & peace
3 min read

This security lapse signals much more about character

Sharing inflammatory emojis with the bros doesn’t inspire trust.

Krish is a social entrepreneur partnering across civil society, faith communities, government and philanthropy. He founded The Sanctuary Foundation.

Screen grab of messages with text and emojis.
The Atlantic

I have - on more than one occasion - sent a sensitive message to the wrong person. It makes me cringe even to recall those mistakes, and so I have a certain amount of sympathy with senior US government leaders who, this week, have been caught out by private messages that got into the wrong hands.  

The messages at the heart of this scandal were sent on a Signal chat between National Security Adviser Michael Waltz, Secretary of Defence Pete Hegseth, Marco Rubio, Secretary of State, J.D. Vance the Vice President, and Tulsi Gabbard, Director of National Intelligence. What none of them had realised was that inadvertently included in the group was Jeffrey Goldberg, editor of The Atlantic.  

Needless to say, screenshots of the chat went viral. The problem, however, wasn’t just what was overheard, - which by itself amounts to a major security breach, - but about what that revealed about the participants – which, I believe, signals a much deeper problem: a breach of character. And there, my sympathy ends.  

The White House team was discussing the recent bombing campaign targeting Iran-backed Houthi rebels who have been disrupting navigation in the Red Sea and the Bab-al-Mandab strait. According to reports, the strikes left at least 53 people dead and injured almost 100 more. Some reports say that civilians and children were among the dead. But in the confines of the walls of power of Washington, these lives were written off in a crude series of emojis: a raised fist, the US flag and fire.  

Dehumanisation is a dangerous path. Once we stop seeing one another human beings with intrinsic value, dignity and worth our world becomes a far less safe place. It seems a dark day where people on one side of the planet can launch a drone attack on people on the other side and then brag about it on a messaging platform in emojis, like a bunch of mates celebrating a board game win.  

The messages on Signal were not just dismissive of those deemed to be enemies – but also of those they call friends. The comments highlight the disparaging way that members of the highest-ranking leaders in the US government view Europe, their faithful and long-term ally. “I fully share your loathing of European freeloading. It’s PATHETIC” writes Pete Hesgeth, US secretary of defence.   

As a European and British person, these are difficult words to read.  It seems our transatlantic relationship has descended into a transactional relationship. Viewing our historical partnership as some kind of profit / loss accountancy does not bode well for world peace. Anyone whose commitment to you is based solely on financial return is an unreliable ally, and that is why Hesgeth’s words are toxic for global security. 

Having recently divorced ourselves from Europe with Brexit, now it feels as though we are on the other end of annulment proceedings. The longstanding bonds between Europe and the US that once seemed unbreakable are now fragile, and the global landscape is shifting in ways that may leave us isolated at a time when cooperation and solidarity are more crucial than ever.  

It is difficult to hold those in power to account, as Jeffrey Goldberg of The Atlantic, knows only too well. It would perhaps have been easier for him to refrain from going public with the compromising information he found in his possession. However, when public servants are not who they seem, it is time for private individuals to speak up and demand better.    

We need to speak up in outrage not only about the security lapse, but about the character failings, not just about the breakdown in international relations, but in the breakdown in the ethical fabric of leadership. We must expose those who view human life as disposable, those who view friends as pawns in a financial game. We must hold those in power accountable for the values they uphold, or risk further erosion of the principles that underpin peace. Only by demanding higher standards from our leaders can we hope to restore the trust and integrity necessary for a more secure global community.  

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