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COP30 must be the summit that moves beyond the transactional nature of past negotiations to embrace ideas that recognize the intrinsic value of nature and the need for global solidarity in protecting it.
COP29 in Baku, Azerbaijan has come and gone, leaving behind a sense of cautious reflection rather than the transformative shift many had hoped for. While the summit certainly brought some progress, it has left us with the bittersweet feeling that the climate crisis, with its urgent and pervasive impacts, still seems to be an issue addressed by small steps rather than bold, immediate action. In this sense, COP29 could be seen as both a missed opportunity and a call to rethink our approach to climate change.
A key discussion centered on mobilizing $300 billion annually by 2035 for climate mitigation efforts in vulnerable countries. While this figure might seem substantial, experts argue that at least $1.3 trillion is needed to address the crisis effectively. Even more concerning, however, is the lack of clarity about the sources of this funding; whether public or private, and how it will be allocated. While the commitments made are modest, they underscore a greater issue: the need for a radical shift in how climate finance is understood and structured.
Despite reservations, COP29 provided space for relevant debates about how to create a more inclusive and just financial system. The mobilisation of resources for the Global South is undoubtedly pressing, and the conversation is really just getting started. What is increasingly clear is that we must rethink the economic structures we have inherited, which often fail to address the systemic inequalities that underpin the climate crisis. Financial solutions must be holistic, incorporating the needs of vulnerable populations and the environment in ways that go beyond traditional market-driven approaches.
The environmental crisis cannot be solved by perpetuating existing power dynamics but requires finding solutions rooted in equity, justice, and a deep respect for the interconnectedness of all life.
Meanwhile, at the G20 summit, which ran in parallel to COP29, discussions on Universal Basic Income (UBI) for countries most affected by climate change gained traction. Countries in Latin America, including Brazil and Colombia, championed this idea, seeing it as a preventive measure against the growing polycrisis. UBI could offer a crucial safety net for populations already feeling the severe impacts of climate disruption. Despite its growing relevance and the goals set for COP30, UBI was sidelined at COP29, with market-based solutions taking center stage—solutions that largely overlook the root causes of the climate emergency.
The insistence on market-driven solutions, such as carbon credits, remains a central feature of international climate discussions. These mechanisms, which allow wealthy countries and corporations to offset emissions by purchasing credits from poorer nations, have yet to deliver the necessary reductions in global emissions. What is more concerning is that these market-based solutions reinforce a narrative of economic growth over environmental sustainability. Until the global conversation shifts away from this paradigm, meaningful progress will remain elusive.
The focus on market mechanisms at COP29 underscores the persistent power imbalances that shape climate action. Current international decision-making continues to rely on "realpolitik"—power dynamics that have failed to address both environmental and peace crises. This approach reinforces the dominance of wealthier nations and multinational corporations, while the voices of the Global South remain marginalized.
Although COP29 did not embrace the bold ideas needed to tackle the climate crisis, it has made one thing clear: The future of climate action lies in transforming how we relate to the planet and to each other. Climate change is a social justice issue that disproportionately affects vulnerable populations, yet their voices continue to be overlooked in global decision-making. The environmental crisis cannot be solved by perpetuating existing power dynamics but requires finding solutions rooted in equity, justice, and a deep respect for the interconnectedness of all life.
One potential avenue for transformative action underrepresented at COP29 is the Cap and Share model. This proposal advocates for a carbon tax on the largest polluters, with the revenue redistributed to support vulnerable populations. By holding major emitters accountable and ensuring the most affected communities are supported, Cap and Share challenges the economic systems that have exacerbated both environmental degradation and social inequality. Such an approach would lay the foundations for a fairer and more sustainable global response to the climate crisis.
Looking ahead to COP30, there is an opportunity to break the cycle and center discussions on a more profound philosophical reimagining of our relationship with nature. It is time to ask ourselves: What does a "good life" mean in the context of the climate crisis, and how can we redefine it in a way that prioritizes ecological harmony over economic interests? COP30 could be the moment to rediscover the wisdom that reminds us that humanity is not separate from nature, but an integral part of the web of life that sustains the planet.
To make this shift a reality, we must draw inspiration from initiatives that can empower local communities, particularly in regions most affected by climate change. The principles of Cap and Share can materialise not just through international policy but by supporting initiatives in local territories that engage communities who have suffered the consequences of climate change while also playing a critical role in preserving biodiversity. These initiatives could provide the foundation for overcoming the structural inequalities that perpetuate social and environmental harm, giving rise to a more just and sustainable world.
COP30 must, therefore, be the summit that moves beyond the transactional nature of past negotiations. It should be the moment when we embrace ideas that recognize the intrinsic value of nature and the need for global solidarity in protecting it. But for that to happen, we must first ask: Are we prepared to rethink the way we relate to the planet and each other in order to build a more just and sustainable future?
Minnesota's three-year-old Guaranteed Income for Artists pilot program offers a small yet mighty payment that has unlocked creative freedom and opened new opportunities that ripple through our communities.
If you were driving by a remote stretch of Minnesota County Highway 210—connecting Wahpeton, North Dakota and Fergus Falls—you would see a massive billboard depicting a painting of three goats. It looks out of place—colorful and vibrant on a desolate stretch of highway mostly used by westbound truckers and locals. On the top left-hand corner of the billboard rests a stark reminder to anyone looking up: "In rural we tend to the herd."
My wife and I share a farm with Edith, Willa, and Milagro—our three goats and the willing subjects of the billboard—and 10 laying chickens, two inside dogs, and three outside cats. As a recipient of Minnesota's three-year-old Guaranteed Income for Artists pilot program, I was inspired to create the billboard as a tribute to the state's guaranteed income pilot, which tends to the community and is changing the lives of artists like myself.
Since moving to Otter Tail County in 2017, I've deepened my connection to the land and the rhythms of rural life. I am attuned to the changing of the seasons, and the serene landscape outside my windows becomes inspiration for paintings in my home studio. Living in a rural setting provides the space I need to get into the creative flow. And the quiet, slower pace of life has unlocked the creative freedom to make my large-scale narrative paintings.
As policymakers and community leaders consider implementing guaranteed income programs, I hope they look to Minnesota's example.
But making a living as an artist in rural Minnesota is no easy feat. It often requires having many different income streams to stay on top of student loans, car payments, and grocery bills. So, when I received an email telling me I had been chosen by lottery to participate in a new pilot providing guaranteed income for rural artists, I breathed a sigh of relief.
The program is set to expand, soon providing no-strings-attached $500 monthly payments to 100 artists for five years—far exceeding typical 12-18-month pilots. This growth cements its position as the nation's longest-running guaranteed income pilot focusing on both urban and rural creators. For me and my fellow artists, this small yet mighty payment has unlocked creative freedom and opened new opportunities that ripple through our communities.
As Minnesota finds itself in the national spotlight following Gov. Tim Walz's candidacy for Vice President, our state's innovative approaches to social and economic policy are garnering renewed attention. As of 2024, 10 states have introduced legislation attempting to ban guaranteed income programs. The misplaced fear stems from ideological and economic concerns about the effects of guaranteed income even though more than a dozen studies have shown that it leads to higher employment rates, housing and food security, and more family time.
When artists have the freedom to create and engage, we become catalysts for positive change that benefits entire communities. Take Jess Torgerson, a multidisciplinary artist and community organizer in Fergus Falls, Minnesota. Before the guaranteed income program, Jess was working 60 hours a week. Now, she has partnered with another artist to create sculptures from found materials, simultaneously making art and ridding her community of unwanted waste. Then there's Torri Hanna, a fiber artist. The program helped Torri and her daughter improve their living situation and stabilize her yarn store business. Torri, too, has expanded her community involvement, working with the local senior center to create art for downtown storefront windows.
Recent data from the program shows its remarkable impacts. Participants reported a decrease in financial stress, an increase in their ability to pay for basic needs, and an increase in their ability to take on creative and community projects they wouldn't have otherwise pursued. The success of Minnesota's program is part of a larger movement, with over 100 pilot programs across the United States testing the impact for different groups of people. Programs like the Works Projects Administration coming out of the New Deal made it possible for artists to make a living and beautified our nation's infrastructure. We have a history to look back on in guiding public investments in artists—we already know that investing in artists pays back manifold.
In my community, we understand the value of tending to the herd—and we've all taken an important lesson from Edith, Willa, and Milagro, who sit in formation with their backs to each other so that they can share body heat, and each can observe a different direction to keep an eye out for threats. Our communities are strengthened when we tend to each other with the same dedication. This, to me, is what guaranteed income does for artists. It says, "We've got your back."
As policymakers and community leaders consider implementing guaranteed income programs, I hope they look to Minnesota's example. Include artists in your pilots. Recognize the unique value they bring to your communities. Understand that by supporting artists, you're nurturing the creativity, resilience, and interconnectedness that make our communities thrive. In Minnesota, we know that the strength of the herd depends on how well we tend to each individual. We know our rural parts of the state enable our strong urban centers to thrive. As you consider the future of your own communities, look out for each other. Share your warmth. Face different directions, but always stay close and connected.
The recent COP16 underscored the need for inclusive conservation strategies in Latin America, where social conflicts and environmental vulnerabilities intersect. A Universal Basic Income could be the answer.
The recent 16th Conference of Parties (COP16) to the United Nations Convention on Biological Diversity, or COP16, has highlighted the urgent need to rethink conservation strategies, particularly in Latin America, where the convergence of social conflict and environmental vulnerability creates a complex, high-stakes landscape.
The global environmental crisis, manifesting in the accelerated loss of biodiversity, is exacerbated by deep socio-economic inequalities. Yet communities most affected by environmental degradation are often those that can play a crucial role in its protection. Traditional approaches are no longer sufficient; conservation efforts must be both innovative and inclusive. Therefore, it is vital that communities are included in the formulation of policies that impact their lives. And to take an active role in conservation, they require support through financing mechanisms tailored to their specific needs.
The intersection of conservation and social justice is not merely an ideal; it is an urgent necessity that we must embrace to achieve a sustainable future for all.
In this regard, Universal Basic Income (UBI) emerges as an essential tool for empowering vulnerable communities and promoting equitable conservation strategies. It is not merely about mitigating environmental impacts; these actions also strengthen community resilience and contribute to peace, helping to prevent conflicts. However, the true potential of UBI is only fully realized when supported by financing mechanisms such as Cap and Share.
The Cap and Share model generates socio-economic equality through emission reductions and biodiversity protection. And by redirecting these resources towards UBI, we can create a virtuous cycle in which vulnerable communities benefit directly from conservation actions.
Cap and Share enables communities to receive regular, unconditional payments, providing them with crucial financial security. This not only alleviates pressure on natural resources but also facilitates active community participation in the conservation of their surroundings. UBI is not simply economic assistance; it is a model of climate justice that ensures those most affected by climate change receive direct support, empowering them to become agents of change.
In Colombia, where the intersection of urgent environmental challenges and violent conflict is particularly evident, a pilot project implementing UBI could be pivotal. This initiative would provide regular income to affected communities, offering them economic relief and the opportunity to engage in conservation practices. Such a project would not only generate immediate benefits for the communities involved but also serve as a vital case study for scaling UBI initiatives across similar contexts. The evidence gathered from this pilot could demonstrate the effectiveness of UBI in reducing poverty, enhancing food security, and fostering peaceful sustainable practices, thereby making a compelling case for broader implementation.
Global evidence suggests that regular income from UBI can have significant positive effects on food security and community autonomy. Communities receiving cash transfers can diversify their income sources and improve their agricultural practices, thereby reducing pressure on ecosystems. In Colombia, this could mean a reduction in practices that contribute to deforestation, as communities empowered by financial security are more likely to invest in sustainable land management.
Armed conflict in Colombia has left deep scars on the country’s social and environmental fabric. Displaced communities and areas of high ecological degradation serve as constant reminders of the interconnectedness of social and environmental issues. Restoring the environment and reducing inequalities must be tackled together to achieve lasting peace. Implementing UBI, supported by Cap and Share, could be a crucial step toward rebuilding the relationship between communities and nature, creating a foundation for sustainable development.
As we look forward, it is essential that the conversation around inclusive financing does not stall. Every dollar allocated to conservation should be seen as an investment in the communities that care for our most precious ecosystems. Both international and national actors must recognise the importance of these initiatives and collaborate to ensure that vulnerable communities have access to the resources they need.
The implementation of UBI, alongside mechanisms like Cap and Share, not only offers an economic solution but also addresses the root causes of social and environmental injustice. In doing so, we not only protect biodiversity and ecosystems but also build more just and resilient societies, capable of facing present and future challenges. The intersection of conservation and social justice is not merely an ideal; it is an urgent necessity that we must embrace to achieve a sustainable future for all.
Concluding this chapter of COP16, it is clear that the path to effective conservation must be inclusive. Promoting dialogue around financing mechanisms that empower vulnerable communities is essential to ensure that conservation strategies are fair and effective. Only by doing so can we strengthen the resilience of our communities and contribute to a more equitable world, where nature and humanity coexist in harmony. A pilot project in Colombia can provide the necessary evidence to scale these initiatives, offering a replicable model on a larger scale, which can be advocated in upcoming scenarios such as COP29 and COP30.