As the 30th Conference of the Parties (COP30) to the United Nations Framework Convention on Climate Change wrapped up in Belém, Brazil, on November 22, 2025, a sense of disappointment pervaded the international climate community. Despite grand ambitions and the symbolic location at the mouth of the Amazon, the summit’s final outcomes left many wondering if the world is truly prepared to tackle the climate crisis—or if, in fact, it’s simply treading water while the seas continue to rise.
From the outset, COP30 was billed as more than just another climate summit. Its setting in Belém was meant to underscore the urgency and immediacy of the crisis, with the Amazon’s fate hanging in the balance. According to The Conversation, the city itself became a protagonist, with oppressive heat and a dramatic thunderstorm flooding streets, knocking down trees, and causing power outages—turning the climate emergency from an abstract threat into an all-too-real presence inside and outside the negotiating rooms.
Yet, despite these reminders of what’s at stake, the core negotiations delivered what many observers, including academics and environmentalists, described as an underwhelming deal. The final agreement, dubbed the Belém package, notably omitted any mention of “fossil fuels”—a striking absence given their centrality to previous climate pacts like the Glasgow Climate Pact and the UAE Consensus. As The Conversation reported, this omission was all the more glaring considering that fossil fuels are widely recognized as the main driver of global warming.
Peter Espeut, writing for The Gleaner, was unsparing in his critique of COP30’s outcomes. He pointed out that, while 88 countries (including Jamaica) pushed for a roadmap to transition away from fossil fuels and phase out subsidies, the final text did not even include the words “fossil fuels” after fierce opposition led by Saudi Arabia. “The adjective ‘sustainable’ has become a meaningless catchphrase,” Espeut lamented, highlighting a disconnect between the rhetoric of sustainability and the reality of continued industrialization and environmental degradation.
This disconnect is reflected in the latest scientific assessments. The 2025 Emissions Gap Report, presented at COP30, found that global warming projections based on countries’ stated plans now hover between 2.3°C and 2.5°C above pre-industrial levels—while projections based on actual actions are even higher, at 2.8°C. The Paris Agreement’s target of limiting warming to 1.5°C appears increasingly out of reach unless greenhouse gas emissions peak before 2025 and decline by 43% by 2030, a goal that seems more aspirational than attainable at this point.
Meanwhile, the summit’s much-touted focus on people and implementation fell short. According to The Conversation, over 5,000 indigenous people attended COP30, but only 360 secured passes to the main negotiating “blue zone,” compared to 1,600 delegates linked to the fossil fuel industry. This imbalance did not go unnoticed, with many indigenous leaders and youth negotiators expressing frustration at being sidelined from the core decision-making processes, even as their communities bear the brunt of climate impacts.
One of the few concrete outcomes from COP30 was the launch of the Tropical Forests Forever Facility (TFFF), described by Mexico Business News as one of the largest forest-conservation funding commitments ever announced at a UN climate conference. Unveiled at the leaders’ summit ahead of COP30, the TFFF secured US$6.7 billion in public and private investments—an impressive sum, but less than one-quarter of the US$25 billion in “sponsor” capital needed for a full launch. Brazil’s ambitious plan is to raise US$125 billion from public and private sources to reward countries for maintaining standing tropical forests, with annual payments of US$4 per hectare, 20% of which would go to Indigenous peoples and local communities.
Major pledges came from Norway (US$3 billion over a decade), France (US$577 million by 2030), Germany (US$1.15 billion as a grant), and Indonesia (US$1 billion). China expressed political support but stopped short of a financial commitment, prompting speculation about its future involvement. The United Kingdom, citing budget constraints, declined to commit public funds but encouraged private-sector participation. Brazilian officials, including Environment Minister Marina Silva, expressed optimism that the US$10 billion threshold could be reached by the end of Brazil’s COP presidency in 2026, potentially leveraging US$40 billion in private capital for a total operating fund of US$50 billion.
Despite its promise, the TFFF was ultimately left out of the final COP30 declaration, along with a deforestation roadmap proposed by Brazil. Negotiations broke down after the roadmap became tied to language on transitioning away from fossil fuels—a linkage some critics suggest may have been intentional, given Brazil’s interest in expanding oil exports. Still, support for a global roadmap to end deforestation reached 92 backers through the COP30 Action Agenda, a voluntary platform outside formal negotiations. Mexico, for its part, expressed interest in integrating the Biocultural Corridor of the Great Mayan Forest into the TFFF, a move that could help conserve 5.7 million hectares of forest and protect roughly 7,000 species.
The broader context, as The Conversation observed, is one of growing “climate fatigue.” Years of catastrophic headlines, stalled policies, and political gridlock have left many people feeling powerless and emotionally overwhelmed. Psychologists Gulnaz Anjum and Mudassar Aziz argue that what’s needed is “grounded hope”—stories of resilience and adaptation that reflect real struggles and successes, rather than just gloomy predictions and unmet goals. The summit’s location and the lived experiences of those present—floods, protests, even a fire that briefly evacuated the negotiations—served as powerful reminders that the crisis is no longer an abstract future threat, but a present reality affecting lives and livelihoods.
Amid the frustration, there were moments of clarity. Dr. Fernando Barrio of Queen Mary University of London put it bluntly: “There is no path to 1.5°C that does not involve ending deforestation this decade.” Yet, with the voluntary nature of many new initiatives and the persistent influence of fossil fuel interests, the path forward remains uncertain.
As the world looks ahead to COP31 in Türkiye, the question remains whether world leaders will heed the lessons of Belém. The crisis is no longer outside the venue—it’s flooding the streets and overheating the negotiating rooms. Whether that will finally prompt meaningful action is the question hanging over the road to the next summit and beyond.
