The 30th United Nations climate summit, COP30, concluded in Belém, Brazil, with a mix of thunderous Amazonian rain, tense all-night negotiations, and a sense of urgency that seemed to match the climate crisis itself. Yet, as delegates, activists, and observers departed the rain-soaked conference center, the outcome left many wondering: did the world make any real progress, or did powerful corporate interests and political divisions once again stall the fight against global warming?
From the outset, COP30 was marked by the unprecedented presence of industry lobbyists. According to an analysis by the Kick Big Polluters Out (KBPO) coalition, more than 1,600 fossil fuel lobbyists and over 300 representatives from industrial agriculture gained access to the summit. That meant one in every 25 attendees was a fossil fuel lobbyist—a 12% jump compared to last year’s COP29. Over the past five years, nearly 7,000 fossil fuel lobbyists have been accredited at UN climate summits, a trend that has alarmed climate advocates worldwide.
The combined presence of oil, gas, meat, dairy, grain, and pesticide interests at COP30 actually surpassed the delegations of most individual countries. KBPO found that fossil fuel lobbyists received nearly 60% more passes than the combined delegations of the 10 most climate-vulnerable nations. For some countries, the imbalance was staggering: the Philippines, battered by 21 major storms this year, had a delegation outnumbered by fossil fuel lobbyists by nearly 50 to 1. Jamaica, still reeling from the devastation of Hurricane Melissa, faced a 40-to-1 ratio. Iran, struggling with drought, saw a 44-to-1 imbalance.
Brazil’s President Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva opened the summit, calling it the “COP of truth.” Yet, the enduring influence of oil and gas interests was unmistakable. Major trade associations, such as the International Chamber of Commerce and the International Emissions Trading Association, sent large delegations, including representatives from ExxonMobil, BP, and TotalEnergies. Several European governments even embedded fossil fuel executives within their official delegations. The scale of this participation sparked renewed warnings about what some activists call the “corporate capture” of UN climate negotiations.
“Another COP, same playbook. This is corporate capture, not climate governance,” Lien Vandamme, a senior campaigner at the Center for International Environmental Law, told DeSmog and The Guardian. Elisa Morgera, the UN special rapporteur for climate change, went further, likening the fossil fuel industry’s influence at COP30 to tobacco lobbying in global health negotiations: “States at COP should recognize the irreconcilable conflict of interest of the fossil fuel industry.”
The summit’s final declaration, known as the “mutirão” agreement, was notably silent on the subject of fossil fuels—a glaring omission given that language on this had been agreed at COP28 in Dubai. The declaration also refused to integrate Brazil’s Tropical Forests Forever Facility (TFFF), a forest conservation financing initiative. Even rainforest protection, despite the summit’s Amazonian setting, received only a fleeting and vague mention.
Industrial agriculture lobbyists also made their presence felt. Their numbers—302 at COP30—rose 14% from the previous year, with meat and dairy companies sending the largest group. JBS, the world’s biggest meat company and responsible for roughly 24% of global meat and dairy emissions, sent eight lobbyists, including CEO Gilberto Tomazoni. The company has supported controversial metrics, such as the “Global Warming Potential Star” (GWP), which critics say could significantly lower reported methane emissions without actually reducing cattle numbers. JBS has also faced regulatory fines in Brazil for purchasing cattle from embargoed, illegally deforested areas.
The agribusiness sector’s influence extended to biofuels, fertilizers, and pesticides. Brazil, the summit host, pushed for a fourfold expansion in global biofuels use, despite a recent study showing that biofuels can emit 16% more greenhouse gases than fossil fuels when accounting for land-use impacts. This expansion of agribusiness lobbying—up 71% since COP27—has critics worried that meaningful climate action is being sidelined in favor of industry-friendly frameworks and voluntary incentives.
Transparency, or the lack thereof, was another major concern. While new rules required participants to disclose their sponsors, official national delegations were exempt, allowing many industry representatives to remain hidden. Transparency International found that more than half of all national delegates listed no organizational affiliation, obscuring the extent of private-sector involvement. Countries including Russia, South Africa, Tanzania, and Mexico provided no information about the institutional affiliations of their delegates.
Meanwhile, civil society groups protested what they saw as heightened restrictions for Indigenous peoples and frontline communities. “While local Indigenous peoples struggled to enter the conference, fossil fuel lobbyists walked in freely,” Pim Sullivan-Tailyour of the UK Youth Climate Coalition told reporters. The sense of exclusion was palpable, with many arguing that the UN Framework Convention on Climate Change (UNFCCC) is in need of urgent reform.
Negotiations themselves were fraught and chaotic, with the summit wrapping up 24 hours later than planned after an Amazonian rainstorm battered the venue. The Paris Agreement, the backbone of global climate efforts, was described as “on life-support” by veteran observers, according to Sumaúma. Yet, after tense, last-ditch talks that stretched into the early morning, the agreement survived—barely. The outcome, however, fell short of what’s needed to keep global heating below 1.5°C, and there was a considerable shortfall of finance for adaptation by the countries hardest hit by extreme weather.
Brazilian President Lula and Environment Minister Marina Silva tried to inject new momentum by proposing a global roadmap for countries to draw up their own plans, at their own pace, to move toward a fossil-free future. “Finally something has been put on the table to debate what really matters,” Silva told Sumaúma, though she acknowledged, “we should have been working on this for the last 30 years.” More than 80 nations backed the initiative, but it was ultimately pushed off the main negotiating text. Brazil has promised to continue developing the idea during its COP30 presidency.
There were some incremental steps forward. The conference increased participation for Indigenous groups, quilombolas, and scientists. Wealthy nations agreed to triple climate adaptation finance by 2035, and there were vague references to stronger policies for a just transition to clean energy. Yet, these advances were overshadowed by political fractures, a global leadership vacuum, and the ongoing wars in Gaza, Ukraine, and Sudan, which sapped both attention and resources from climate action.
In the end, COP30 left many with mixed feelings. As Raj Patel, a professor at the University of Texas, put it to The Guardian, “This is a hostage negotiation over the future of the planet. The companies holding the detonators—soy barons, beef cartels, pesticide firms—are seated at the table as honest brokers.” With global emissions still rising and 2025 projected to be one of the hottest years on record, the world’s hopes for decisive climate action now rest on whether the process can be reformed to put the planet’s future ahead of short-term industry interests.
For now, the sickly sumaúma tree outside the COP30 entrance stands as a symbol—struggling for life, not quite finished, but slipping ever further from vitality. The same could be said for global climate governance, still fighting for a future that remains uncertain.
