Should We Abolish the UN Climate Conference?

Climate Justice Requires Reparation, Abolition, and Decolonization

70,000 people marched through Belém do Pará demanding an end to “green capitalism,” denouncing COP30 as an ineffective method for delivering climate justice, and chanting the slogan, “we are the real solutions” on November 15, 2025. (Photo by the author.)

Michael Wilson Becerril
Nov. 2025

Parades of heavily armed troops always within sight in the Amazonian city of Belém do Pará. Countless pavilions and panels promote nuclear energy, AI-driven solutions, and market mechanisms to solve the climate crisis. A well-dressed white man cuts in line for a free coffee, served in plastic cups. Colombian Vice President Francia Márquez declares unswervingly that “the UN system as a whole is a racist space.” These ethnographic data signal deep fissures at the heart of UN climate negotiations. 

In a moment of consolidating global fascist oligarchy and multiplying crises, it is more clear than ever that climate justice requires reparations, abolitionism, and decolonization. This is crucial not only because climate change is already severely harming the marginalized communities least responsible for the problem, but also considering the co-opting forces that dominate the highest-level discussions about how humanity will respond to the crises of capitalism. 

Climate Colonialism at COP

Despite decisive contestation by Indigenous, Afrodescendent, and marginalized communities inside and outside of the conference venue, the UN’s most recent Conference of Parties was a site of unchecked white supremacy, climate colonialism, and the continued selling out of the planet. 

The drivers of the problem were presented as solutions at COP30, couched in rhetoric of “sustainable development” and a “green economy.” Tellingly, this has been the official rhetoric since the UN climate talks were first held in Río de Janeiro in 1992. What exactly has changed in this period? 

Carbon emissions have nearly doubled (a result of an economic system that demands constant growth) and climate disasters are decimating vulnerable communities, causing millions of deaths and pushing us past the planetary boundaries identified by climate scientists. The world is increasingly unstable, characterized by growing fascism, militarism, and extractivism, all of which will only worsen our problems. 

Marginalized people have been theorizing how deeply entwined these issues are, and their links to capitalism, for centuries (and even longer, since before these systems consolidated and had a name). As emphasized throughout the conference, most Indigenous communities have long understood that greed will strategically divide us for short term gain but consume us as a whole.

It is through the counter-conference spaces they have organized that the work of climate justice is happening: building solidarity, sharing ideas, growing networks, getting agitated, and bringing those things into action across their communities. Contrast this to the official conference, captured for years by polluting industries and, unsurprisingly, resulting this year in a statement that does not even name fossil fuels. 

The making of the conference itself exhibited signs of environmental racism. As Dr. Adrião Oliveira noted, a sewage plant was built for wealthy conference guests in an impoverished, predominantly non-white neighborhood that does not itself have sewage services. Moreover, a highway to the conference was built through the territory of a Quilombo, a community established through struggle by self-liberated, formerly enslaved people and their descendants. Can the COP be reformed, when its very existence requires extractivism and when its contents mostly serve the interests of private plunderers, expanding the unequal status quo and derailing progress? 

Angela Davis and others have argued that abolition is a world-making project, where we do not just destroy oppressive institutions but also replace them with new forms of relationships that effectively render them obsolete. For example, we would not only fight to close all jails and prisons but also build the kind of society where they are simply not needed anymore. Perhaps this is exactly what the counter-conference organizers are doing, resisting the capitalist false solutions at COP and weaving together the alternative climate justice mechanisms that will obviate such colonial spaces.

The Allure of False Solutions

As the Black Alliance for Peace reported, more than 1,600 extractive industry lobbyists were within the exclusive “blue zone” where the conference concentrated. The world simply does not have time for more profiteers in expensive suits taking up much-needed space to peddle nuclear energy, volunteer contributions, carbon capture, more growth, and cap-and-trade markets. 

The latter, essential to Article 6 of the Paris Agreement, has long been denounced as a new site for profit-making that will only encourage greater emissions. Carbon credits are currently devastating the land and displacing Indigenous people in Kenya. These false solutions exculpate the culprits, help them skirt accountability, and exacerbate the problem.

The scale and complexity of this destructive economic model are understandably scary, and it is alluringly convenient to believe that we can continue playing by similar rules as our current systems. Solutions are “sold,” literally for profit, in highly technical terms, bureaucratic abstractions, and absurd timelines. But climate scientists agree that we must radically change how we live, reconnect with all living and nonbeing things in solidarity, not competition, and abandon the status quo as quickly as possible. 

The urgent problems we face cannot be solved by their leading accelerators. We must strike at the root of the issue and avoid individualist and capitalist solutions like fortified borders. We are not going to find a profitable, private technological innovation that finally saves us, and the people who place their faith on more extraction are self-deluded. That societies are organized around profit is exactly what has led us to this point: wars, pandemic illness, hunger, impoverishment, white supremacy, cis-hetero patriarchy, ableism, authoritarianism, xenophobia, militarism, colonialism, fascism, and more. 

When profit has primacy, none of us are safe and institutions will be designed in harmful ways. For example, there is poison in your brain, breastmilk, lungs, and more–and this is perfectly legal. And the inherent colonial injustices of the problem are obvious: whereas the largest emitters have been overwhelmingly white, wealthy, and in the global North, the worst effects of these interlinked crises are experienced by Black and Indigenous people, people of color, religious minorities, trans and queer people, people with disabilities, women, self-subsistence farmers, low-income workers, undocumented/overexploited migrants, and youth, especially in the global South. 

This is precisely why we need a bold, militant, unapologetic, and intersectional analysis that can connect the climate crisis to fascism and capitalism, the exploitation of undocumented workers in the global North to tech corporations’ reliance on child labor for cobalt mining in the Democratic Republic of Congo, and the expansion of policing and prisons to the rate of femicide and other forms of gender-based violence on stolen land. We must stop the greenwashing and listen to Indigenous and Afrodescendent women and elders who have made it clear: capitalism will not save us from itself.

“The Answer is Us”

To resolve the climate crisis, we must rapidly decarbonize the economy. This means we also need to demilitarize. Military expenditures are oppressive, always weaponized against the marginalized for the sake of imperial exploitation, but they are also wasteful, financially draining, resource intensive, and of course very polluting. The U.S. military is the world’s largest consumer of fossil fuels and emitter of greenhouse gases. In turn, this also means that we must confront and replace capitalism, which requires militarization and war in its inherent pursuit of constant growth. 

At COP and beyond, grassroots and frontline communities have been loud and clear. Real solutions center on restituting Indigenous sovereignty to better care for and protect their territories; redistributing assets so the poor (who are already the best at resource conservation and restoration) can live sustainably without depending on polluting industries for their basic needs–and then being victim-blamed for not recycling); democratizing the economy away from private profiteering; taxing billionaires; phasing out carbon; prohibiting further extractivism; and repaying the climate debt that the world’s wealthy countries owe to the most exploited and harmed.

In panels that countered dominant rhetorics, daily demonstrations at the venue, marches through the streets of Belém and other cities, and the People’s Summit counter-conference hosted at the Federal University of the State of Pará, it was obvious that real solutions abound and are already being practiced. Such ideas and proposals are synthesized in documents like the Belém Action Mechanism, drafted by the Climate Action Network and the Women & Gender Constituency and endorsed by hundreds of organizations, cities, and intergovernmental bodies. 

The People’s Summit, organized by more than 1,100 organizations from 62 countries, also collectively drafted its own declaration. Its seven affirmations and fifteen proposals form nothing short of a beautiful statement that, despite its lucidity and compelling approach, failed to garner much media attention. 

The problem is not that we don’t know what needs to be done, but that the real solutions are being ignored. This is why Munduruku communities blocked the entrance to the venue on the first week (demanding the rescinding of a decree selling out their lands and an audience with Brazilian and world leaders), why 70,000 people marched on Nov. 15, and why countless people have staged demonstrations in support of Palestine as inherent to climate justice and world liberation. 

“It’s the people who have the answer, and only the people,” according to Quilombola leader Leticia Queiroz, speaking to a film crew from Brasil de Fato. 

“Everyday people are just struggling to survive,” explains a video by the Climate Justice Alliance’s delegation at COP30 and the People’s Summit. “We are battling fear, anxiety, and lies because they’ve replaced the love–the love that we have for the land, that we have for each other, and that we just have in general.” 

For the same reason, frontline communities also have the answer. “We are our own first responders,” according to the Climate Justice Alliance. “We have to show up first because we know first hand what we’re experiencing, we know first hand what are the solutions, and when we come together, we can make things move and shake.”

As long as spaces like the UN Climate Conference exist, dissenting voices should shape discussions therein through various pressure points, including negotiation and disruption. However, we should not be naive enough to believe that the solutions will be granted from the top-down from the same colonial-capitalist order that has separated us from nature and each other, and now threatens our survival.

Climate justice requires reparation, abolition, and decolonization. Abolish fossil fuels. Abolish capitalism and the state violence that sustains it. Abolish false solutions. Abolish all COPs. Repay the debt owed to those most exploited and reinstate Indigenous sovereignty over their lands–for all our sakes. Heed their lessons on how to live in better relations with the cosmos. Anything short is a fool’s errand for which we have no time

***

Michael Wilson Becerril is an activist-scholar specialized in the political ecologies of violence and justice, with a focus on Latin America. His book, Resisting Extractivism, was named ACRL’s Choice Outstanding Academic Title. His writing has also appeared in Al Jazeera, The Washington Post, and other venues. He teaches in the Department of Peace and Conflict Studies at Swarthmore College, where he directs the @PeacePraxisLab. Please reach out via linktr.ee/mwilsonbecerril.

Young people wearing black and red clothing march through Belém do Pará carrying signs, a large one of which says, “Sustainable capitalism doesn’t exist! The solution to the climate emergency is socialism!” Other flags among the group mention the organization “Popular Unity towards Socialism.” Photo by the author.

Climate Reparations Now

by Chris Stone ’23 (he/they)

On the bus from the airport to my hotel, my first sunset in Sharm el-Sheikh.

Where are you from?

I’m from the US.

Okay, but where are you really from?

It’s a question I’ve often been asked at the COP 27 conference.

It’s a question that usually makes me cringe, as an Asian American and one of the few in my family to be born in the US. It’s a question that comes tinged with a sense that somehow every Asian is a new pervasive immigrant despite several hundreds of years of Asians in America (see: The Making of Asian America by Erika Lee, 2015). With it goes the myth of the American Dream, of being a “model minority” who can achieve being “American” if we just pick ourselves up by the bootstraps.

However, here at COP 27, it’s a question I am, for once, excited to answer:

I’m Burmese Chinese, and my parents immigrated from Myanmar.

And after some chatting, we get to the point where I clarify that Myanmar is not at this conference.

Neither were they last year, after the return of the military coup in February 2021, striking violence across the country in the midst of a worldwide pandemic. I remember that day, feeling my face getting heated, my throat closing up, and my eyes starting to water. I remember the unbearable frustration I shared with the few other peers with ethnic heritage from Myanmar I had, seeping out and spilling over. Just as we had grown up struggling to search for legitimate streams of information about what was going on in the country outside what we knew from those we were directly connected to—some of us furthermore illiterate in our native languages—our calls to action for international support made far from the headlines, or the headlines that did were riddled with disinformation.

Yet, as the country is a member of the UN, I still found this sign in the overflow room for the plenary.

A sign that says Myanmar on a table in a room with many other tables in front facing rows.

I’m excited to share my ethnic heritage with people in the hopes I might find someone else out there from an ethnic group of Myanmar. To have a connection with more than a plastic sign here. Even with my complex feelings about the notion of a “national identity” around “Myanmar”, I knew the exclusion of the country would be one of the largest defining factors in my ability to find other members of the diaspora. I knew it would mean the global conversations around climate change would move on without acknowledging the people in that country, my friends and family, who have been undergoing floods at unprecedented scales across the recent years, putting a global biodiversity hot spot at risk. It’s my fourth day here, and I have been thankful to the many people who have tried to connect me to groups that might be able to help… but I still haven’t succeeded.

This will not stop my search.

On the other hand, what I did find were other youth who shared similar sentiments:

Oh, I am/We are also from a community that is not represented at this conference, attending through other means.

These peers too understood the experience of being of communities that are silenced from the international political dialogue, one that has been structurally designed to erase us. We sit as observers in negotiation rooms as jargon flies by, we sit as the pressure of what all these conversations are supposed to mean to us creeps in. We ask each other:

So… why we even here?

And is that enough?

Am I doing enough, to carry the burden of all my ancestors before me who worked hard so I could be here now?

It’s hard to watch, as people move in groups all around me, connected by one thing or the other, while feeling so incredibly aware of how, if not for colonialism, imperialism, you name it… there would be others like me too. It’s certainly not a new feeling, but it is one that hits different each time it comes up again.

Suddenly, I feel so small.

Though, having someone that understands makes me feel, a little less small, and a little more of a sense of belonging.

I am reminded of a quote that too, re-emerges just as often:

There’s really no such thing as the ‘voiceless’. There are only the deliberately silenced, or the preferably unheard.

Arundhati Roy

Marginalized peoples, whether acknowledged by international political powers or not, have never been “voiceless”. We have been fighting for hundreds of years. Our voices continue to ring on.

There have been many references to the centerpiece of this COP:

This is the year that COP 27 actually moves towards acting on implementation.

This is the year that COP 27 actually centers food systems.

This is the year that COP 27 actually supports youth participation.

This is the year that COP 27 actually addresses loss and damage.

Well, I can tell you for a fact that this is the year that COP 27 has a Climate justice Pavilion in the Blue Zone, in spite of representing people that would otherwise be in the Green Zone, one-off events to check off the “diversity” requirement of their programming, or not present at all. I am thankful to have had the invitation to volunteer with them during my time in the conference through one of the main organizers WeACT for Environmental Justice. One of WeACT’s top community priorities is energy security and I connected with them through Young Professionals in Energy-NYC’s mentorship program.

I am continuously starstruck to meet environmental justice leaders whose works I’ve read in class or podcasts I’ve listened to while on the subway or online webinars I attended from my bedroom, and to be actively part of the work to support them. I could only describe this as a fraction of the amount of gratitude I have. Their work has pushed me to further dive into decolonizing my own identity, and working for and with community.

Dr. Beverly Wright introducing the first panelists and opening of the pavilion

As the first event “Global Afro Descendant Climate Justice Collaborative” unfolded, the energy could be felt in the room:

One chants: What do we want?

All join in: Climate Justice!

One: When do we want it?

All: Now!

Now. Now!

Now is and always has been and always will be, across every moment in the movement for social justice, the time for those responsible for the climate chaos we are experiencing to compensate those from which they have extracted from and disproportionately sacrificed, from Black and brown communities in the Global South and the reconstructions of Global South within the Global North.

There is no climate justice without social justice. Until then, none of us are free.

The panelists made it explicit: racism is baked into COP27 proceedings. Climate reparations must be in dialogue, must be paid up, and must be noted as only a piece to addressing a history of systemic injustice.

Having voices from climate justice communities be represented for the “good optics” is not enough. They need to be centered, and actions must be taken to implement the solutions that will genuinely address the needs for/with/by those at the frontlines. An example of an approach to this is what Dr. Robert Bullard would refer to as “community-based participatory research”.

My hand holding a copy of Hoodwinked in the Hothouse

A member of Climate Justice Alliance stopped by to hand off copies of the latest edition of Hoodwinked in the Hothouse: Resist False Solutions to Climate Change. I recognized it right away. After all, one of the contributing organizations, Energy Justice Network, collaborate along with Chester Residents Concerned for Quality Living (CRCQL) to engage Swarthmore College students in the Environmental Justice courses and Campus Coalition Concerning Chester (C4) in the fight against the nation’s largest incinerator for “waste to energy” (a common false solution) located in the city of Chester.

Chester, less than 4 miles away from our campus, is a predominantly low-income African American community faced with generations of health conditions due to the toxins they were being forced to live with in the air. Air that travels along to even our seemingly unaffected predominately white institution located on an arboretum designed on stolen land. CRCQL has been in this fight for over 20 years, and they have been told before that if did not take the trash coming in from all across the US, then it would be sold to be shipped and dumped to another country in Africa—perpetuating the global waste trade (see: Resisting Global Toxics: Transnational Movements for Environmental Justice by David Pellow, 2007).

If you don’t think you live in an environmental justice community, then you’re living next to one.

Zulene Mayfield, while visiting our class last year

After the second event of the day at the pavilion, “Climate Litigation in South Africa: Vulnerable communities resisting fossil fuels and protecting their right to participation (Earthjustice)”, members from the audience joined in to share their experiences, their fights, their wins, and their strategies, from Liberia to Zimbabwe to Puerto Rico, picking up between each other while sharing their truths. Local revolutions collectively all part of one big revolution, reminding me of The Next American Revolution: Sustainable Activism for the Twenty-First Century by Grace Lee Boggs, 2011.

The Blue Zone’s dominant operating narratives put global climate justice stakeholders at a dissonance from one another. Climate Justice Pavilion is not just a site of resistance to dismantle these narratives, it is a site of healing and grounding. The Climate Justice Pavilion structurally configures itself subversively, building power and kinship in solidarity for a just climate transition across cultures, faiths, and generations.

The founders of the three main organizations leading the Climate Justice Pavilion on stage for the Keynote Panel