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Part II - Designing Effective Governance Mechanisms

Published online by Cambridge University Press:  22 November 2024

Ottavio Quirico
Affiliation:
University of New England, University for Foreigners of Perugia and Australian National University, Canberra
Walter Baber
Affiliation:
California State University, Long Beach

Information

Type
Chapter
Information
Implementing Climate Change Policy
Designing and Deploying Net Zero Carbon Governance
, pp. 169 - 328
Publisher: Cambridge University Press
Print publication year: 2024
Creative Commons
Creative Common License - CCCreative Common License - BYCreative Common License - NCCreative Common License - ND
This content is Open Access and distributed under the terms of the Creative Commons Attribution licence CC-BY-NC-ND 4.0 https://creativecommons.org/cclicenses/

Part II Designing Effective Governance Mechanisms

10 European Green Deal, Climate Policies and the Energy Dilemma: Investment Protection versus Sustainable Investment?

10.1 Introduction

As two-thirds of the world’s greenhouse gas emissions are generated in the energy sector,Footnote 1 energy-related investment is essential to sustainability. Fossil fuel still provides the basis for powering the world’s industry and transport, and for producing its electricity, heating and cooling.Footnote 2 According to the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC), it is essential that both ‘governments and the private sector’ make sure that ‘investment in clean and sustainable energy innovation increases’ to tackle the climate crisis.Footnote 3

From a regulatory standpoint, in line with the Sustainable Development Goals,Footnote 4 the United Nations Framework Convention on Climate Change (UNFCCC) regime establishes fundamental norms for mitigating greenhouse gas emissions,Footnote 5 while the Energy Charter Treaty (ECT),Footnote 6 which is largely an initiative of the European Union (EU), is a critical instrument for the governance of investment in the energy sector.Footnote 7 Both instruments were adopted in the 1990s; however, whereas the UNFCCC relies heavily on the implementation of new technologies and a transition to clean energy (preamble), these are not the priorities of the ECT, which is still anchored to a model of investment that affords broad protection to cross-border investors.

It is therefore necessary to explore the relationship between the UNFCCC and related regulatory instruments on the one hand, and the ECT on the other, to assess their reciprocal consistency. The research proceeds along the lines of the ‘systemic integration’ principle codified in article 31(3)(c) of the Vienna Convention on the Law of Treaties (VCLT)Footnote 8 and the Vienna Convention on the Law of Treaties between States and International Organisations or between International Organisations (VCLTIO).Footnote 9 As treaties must not be considered in isolation, but should rather be construed in their international legal context,Footnote 10 this contribution assesses the possibility of a regulatory conflict between the UNFCCC and the ECT in the area of energy-related investment. It argues that, if the ECT supports investment in renewables and fossil fuel equally, it might clash with the objective of stabilizing anthropogenic greenhouse gas emissions within sustainable limits under the UNFCCC, thus largely hindering the implementation of the European Green Deal.

This chapter proceeds in two parts. The first outlines obligations under the UNFCCC and the ECT, aiming to identify a possible conflict and its scope by evaluating both UNFCCC and ECT obligations, and their implications for climate change, in turn. The second aims to chart some possible ways forward, particularly in the context of the modernization of the ECT, with respect to both substantive and procedural norms. This part elaborates on the flexible approach to investment protection developed by the EU.Footnote 11 It applies some proposals that have been put forward de lege ferenda to green investment, such as the Model Treaty for Climate Change Mitigation and Adaptation (TSICCMA) and the Green Investment Protocol (GIP),Footnote 12 to the ECT within the framework of the modernization process.

10.2 United Nations Framework Convention on Climate Change and Energy Charter Treaty: Clashing Commitments?
10.2.1 The United Nations Framework Convention on Climate Change and Climate Change Obligations

The UNFCCC established the governing regulatory regime for climate change: it outlined the foundations for the parties to achieve sustainable greenhouse gas emissions. Currently, 197 sovereign entities have joined the Convention, including the EU, which is classified as an industrialized party under annex I.Footnote 13 While the degree to which the UNFCCC is binding is contested, there is little doubt that duties under the UNFCCC are compulsory, at least to a certain extent, with respect to both substantive action and attendant procedural obligations.

Substantively, UNFCCC article 2 establishes the main ‘objective’ of stabilizing greenhouse gas concentrations in the atmosphere to prevent dangerous anthropogenic interference with climate, allowing sufficient time for sustainable development. It is considered that this rule establishes a duty to prevent climate change.Footnote 14 According to UNFCCC article 3, the parties ‘should’ protect the climate system ‘for the present and future generations of humankind’, in line with the precautionary principle and common but differentiated responsibility (CBDR). In the light of its non-imperative nature, this rule is generally considered soft law.Footnote 15 UNFCCC article 4(1)(a)-(b) further posits that the parties ‘shall’ establish national inventories of greenhouse gas emissions by sources and removals by sinks, in the context of mitigation programs. In this framework, developed country parties are to take the lead under UNFCCC article 4(2)(a). Procedurally, under article 4(2)(b) the parties commit to providing detailed information on mitigation policies and under article 4(2)(e) they agree to co-ordinating their economic and administrative instruments and to periodically reviewing their policies. Overall, it is considered that these rules impose on the parties an obligation to implement measures to stabilize greenhouse gas emissions.Footnote 16

In the context of the UNFCCC, the Kyoto Protocol first and the Paris Agreement subsequently have outlined specific emissions reduction targets.Footnote 17 Under article 3(1) of the Kyoto Protocol, developed annex I countries committed to ensuring that their aggregate anthropogenic carbon dioxide equivalent emissions included in annex A diminish by at least 5%, as compared to 1990 levels, between 2008 and 2012. The Geneva Ministerial Declaration clarified the strictly binding nature of this obligation.Footnote 18 Under article 2 of the Paris Agreement, in line with the objectives of the UNFCCC, the parties aim to ‘strengthen the global response’ to climate change, including by ‘holding’ global average temperature ‘well below 2°C above pre-industrial levels’ and ‘pursue efforts to limit’ increase to 1.5°C, which would ‘significantly reduce’ the impact of global warming. Article 4 further specifies that the parties try to reach the peaking of greenhouse gas emissions ‘as soon as possible’ and ‘shall’ adopt appropriate national mitigation measures. On the one hand, article 3 compels the parties to determining national contributions on a voluntary basis, on the other hand, article 4(2) and (9) establishes an obligation to report on measures adopted to progress towards the stabilization of greenhouse gas emissions. These are mostly regarded as duties of conduct.Footnote 19

Under this framework, over 100 countries and sovereign organizations have committed to net-zero carbon policies, whereby anthropogenic emissions of greenhouse gas into the atmosphere are matched by carbon sequestration. Thus, for instance, the People’s Republic of China (PRC) has committed to net-zero carbon emissions by 2060, and each of the EU, the United States, the United Kingdom, Japan, and New Zealand by 2050.Footnote 20 Key elements of the European Green Deal involve, for example, promoting renewable energy, energy system integration and hydrogen, phasing out coal, and decarbonizing gas.Footnote 21 The Deal requires ‘massive public investment’Footnote 22 and the Sustainable Europe Investment Plan seeks to mobilize investment in renewable energy for €1 trillion in the period 2020–2030 to achieve carbon neutrality by 2050.Footnote 23 The European Investment Bank has committed to phasing out ‘support to energy projects reliant on unabated fossil fuels’ by the end of 2021.Footnote 24 The Proposal for a Regulation of the European Parliament and of the Council Establishing the Framework for Achieving Climate Neutrality envisages a ‘far-reaching reform’ of ‘energy and infrastructure investment policies’.Footnote 25

10.2.2 The Energy Charter Treaty, Investment and Sustainability
10.2.2.1 Essential Energy Charter Treaty Investment Mechanisms

The ECT was adopted in 1994, along the lines of the European Energy Charter,Footnote 26 which was adopted in The Hague on 17 December 1991, in the context of the so-called Energy Charter Process.Footnote 27 The ECT is a binding multilateral treaty, adopted upon the initiative of the EU and specifically governing the energy sector, with a focus on long-term co-operation (article 2). In line with the European Energy Charter, it governs investment protection, trade, energy transit and efficiency, environmental protection, and dispute settlement.Footnote 28 The ECT currently includes 57 signatories, encompassing all EU Member States (save for Italy), the EU itself, the European Atomic Energy Community (Euratom), and Group of 20 (G20) economies such as Japan, Turkey, Australia, and the UK, with Belarus applying it provisionally, and neither Russia nor Norway having ratified it.Footnote 29 Other major economies, such as Canada and the United States, are not parties, but the ECT aims to expand, particularly to African and Asian States, according to the so-called ‘CONEXO’ policy (of consolidation, expansion, and outreach).Footnote 30

As regards cross-border investment, ECT part III aims to establish a ‘level playing field’, creating a stable framework for investors and limiting non-commercial risk.Footnote 31 To this end, the ECT regulates the access of investment to foreign markets and investment protection. The parties make their best efforts to ensure freedom of investment transfer.Footnote 32 Once investment enters a foreign market, the ECT establishes an obligation for the parties to ensure fair and equitable treatment (FET: article 10(1)), which cannot be less favourable than that required by international law. For instance, in Nykomb Synergetics Technology Holding AB v. the Republic of Latvia it was considered that the ECT parties have an obligation not to treat a foreign investor differently without appropriate justification, ‘comparing like with like’.Footnote 33 The last sentence of ECT article 10(1) embeds an ‘umbrella clause’, which compels a contracting party to ‘observe any obligations it has entered into with an Investor or an Investment of an Investor of any other contracting party’.Footnote 34 The ECT also compels an endeavour to implement the most-favoured-nation (MFN) treatment (article 10(2)–(3)) and the national treatment principle (NT: article 10(7)). ECT article 10(12) further provides that a contracting party establishes effective domestic enforcement measures for investment rights. Expropriation of foreign investment is only allowed exceptionally in the public interest under ECT article 13(1) and entails full compensation, according to fair market value.Footnote 35

Under part V of the ECT, inter-State disputes are to be resolved amicably via diplomatic channels, that is, negotiation, mediation, and conciliation (article 27(1)). Otherwise, a party may resort unilaterally to ad-hoc arbitration (ECT article 27(2)), except for trade-related investment disputes under article 5 and trade-related interim provisions under article 29, whereby consent is requested to commence arbitration under article 28. Under ECT article 26, when disputes between an investor of a State party to the ECT and another State party cannot be resolved amicably (ECT article 26(1)), the investor can choose between domestic adjudication (ECT article 26(2)) and international arbitration or conciliation, as each contracting party gives unconditional consent to such a means for settling disputes (ECT article 26(3)(a)).Footnote 36

In the case of a contracting party included in annex IA that has not given unconditional consent with respect to investment disputes, ECT article 26(2)(4)(a)(i)) establishes that, when an investor chooses to submit an investment dispute to arbitration, it further accepts the jurisdiction of the International Centre for Settlement of Investment Disputes (ICSID), under the 1965 ICSID Convention on the Settlement of Investment Disputes between States and Nationals of Other States (ICSID Convention),Footnote 37 provided that both the contracting party of the investor and the contracting party to the dispute are parties to the ICSID Convention. ECT article 26(4)(a)(ii)) further establishes that the ICSID is seized under the rules governing the Additional Facility for the Administration of Proceedings by the Secretariat of the Centre (Additional Facility Rules), in the case that only one party among the contracting party of the investor and the contracting party to the dispute is a party to the ICSID Convention. Additionally, the investor consents to submitting an investment dispute to a sole arbitrator or an ad-hoc arbitration tribunal established under the Arbitration Rules of the United Nations Commission on International Trade Law (UNCITRAL) (ECT article 26(4)(b)) or to proceedings via the Arbitration Institute of the Stockholm Chamber of Commerce (SCC; ECT article 26(4)(b)). Dispute resolution means under ECT article 26 are not subject to exhaustion of local remedies or contractual dispute resolution mechanisms.

Under ECT article 26(6), tribunals decide issues presented before them in accordance with the ECT and other ‘applicable rules and principles of international law’. Thus, a tribunal deciding energy-related investment disputes will apply, first and foremost, the ECT and, additionally, international law, including conflict of laws rules that may lead to the application of domestic law, particularly that of the host State or of another State. The forum choice under ECT article 26(2)–(3) has implications as concerns applicable law. For instance, ICSID Convention article 42 prioritizes the law agreed by the parties over that of the contracting State party to the dispute and international law. Under article 27(1) of the SCC Arbitration Rules and article 35(1) of the UNCITRAL Arbitration Rules, arbitral tribunals apply the law determined by the parties and, alternatively, the law that they consider most appropriate.

ECT article 36(8) establishes that arbitral awards are final and binding upon the litigating parties: each contracting party implements the awards without delay and makes provision for effective enforcement. As of 2024, the ECT Secretariat reports 135 arbitration cases established under the ECT and more have been initiated confidentially, as reporting is a right, not a duty, under ECT article 26.Footnote 38

10.2.2.2 Sustainability under the Energy Charter Treaty

Concerning environmental protection, the preamble to the ECT mentions the UNFCCC and the importance of sustainable development and energy efficiency. Along these lines, article 19, concerning environmental protection, establishes that the parties pursue sustainable development and take into account environmental obligations under international agreements, striving to minimize environmental impacts arising from activities in the energy cycle, in an economically efficient way. This framework entails that the parties ‘shall’ take into account environmental considerations in formulating and implementing energy policies (article 19(1)(a)), reflect environmental costs and benefits throughout the energy cycle (article 19(1)(b)), improve energy efficiency, develop renewable energy sources, cleaner fuels, and technologies (article 19(1)(d)), and co-operate in the research, development, and implementation of energy-efficient and environmentally sound technologies, practices, and processes (article 19(1)(g)). This framework is complemented by a duty to co-operate (article 19(1)(c) and (g)), collect, and share information (article 19(1)(e)), to promote public awareness on environmental impacts (article 19(1)(f)), and to encourage conditions favourable to the transfer and dissemination of technologies (article 19(1)(h)), as well as to conduct environmental impact assessments and monitor investment projects (article 19(1)(i)). While article 19 is prima facie construed in imperative terms (the parties ‘shall’), its compulsory effect may be limited by soft terminology such as ‘encouraging’ and ‘promoting’.

The ECT Protocol on Energy Efficiency and Related Environmental Aspects (ECT PEEREA) outlines policy principles for energy efficiency and reducing the negative environmental externalities of the energy systems (article 1(a)). The Protocol was adopted on 17 December 1994 and entered into force on 16 April 1998, at the same time as the ECT. Key objectives under article 1(b) include the development of energy-efficiency policies consistent with sustainable development and the establishment of framework conditions for using energy economically, efficiently, and in an environmentally sound way, notably via efficient energy markets better reflecting environmental costs and benefits. For this purpose, the parties formulate transparent strategies to improve energy efficiency and reduce the environmental impacts of the energy cycle (article 5). The Protocol also envisages the adoption of environmental impact assessments and initiatives, such as the use of the most energy-efficient technologies (article 8).

In the light of these rules, some scholars assume that the ECT establishes a framework that is sufficient for achieving sustainable investment, in line with the UNFCCC,Footnote 39 promoting and protecting investment in clean energy, including via the ISDS.Footnote 40 Concerning incentive schemes for renewables, it is noted that, in cases such as Charanne and Construction Investments v. Spain,Footnote 41 Isolux Netherlands, BV v. Kingdom of Spain,Footnote 42 and Blusun SA, Jean-Pierre Lecorcier and Michael Stein v. Italian Republic,Footnote 43 arbitral tribunals have ruled against investors in fossil fuel, with an equal number of disputes won by investors and States, whereby the outcome depends particularly on the way in which the schemes are framed.Footnote 44 More fundamentally, it is noted that the cost of carbon-neutral energy, such as solar photovoltaic energy, is becoming progressively lower as compared to fossil fuel generation.Footnote 45 This trend will remove the necessity of incentive schemes for carbon-neutral energy, and thus the root cause of arbitral disputes for fossil fuel producers under the ECT.

The prevailing opinion is nonetheless that the ECT is not aligned with the UNFCCC regime, as it affords a high level of protection to cross-border investors in fossil fuel without outlining a preferential track for investment in renewable energy.Footnote 46 Critiques go as far as labelling the ECT ‘an anti-climate agreement’ and ‘the antithesis of the UNFCCC’.Footnote 47 The ECT thus creates a regulatory clash, and establishes an insurmountable obstacle to the implementation of climate-friendly policies required under the UNFCCC. A string of cases, either already decided or currently being pursued, illustrates the economic implications of the clash.

Aura Energy Limited v. Sweden and Uniper v. The Netherlands are particularly meaningful emerging cases concerning the establishment of a preferential treatment in favour of investors in carbon-neutral energy.Footnote 48 On 4 November 2019, the Australian company Aura Energy, owner of the Swedish limited liability company Vanadis Battery Metals AB for its mining activities in Sweden, filed a notice of dispute against Sweden under ECT article 26. Aura Energy requested compensation, estimated at US$1.8 billion, for the 2018 decision to outlaw uranium mining in the country on environmental grounds, in breach of the FET, precipitating ‘an effective collapse of the Swedish uranium mining market’. On 30 April 2021, Uniper, a company mining coal and lignite for electricity, gas, steam, and air conditioning supply based in Germany and operating in the Netherlands, entered a request for arbitration under ECT article 26 against the Dutch government, based on the outlawing of coal-based power generation by 2030. The ban is part of the advanced policy adopted by the Dutch State to become carbon neutral,Footnote 49 in the light of the Supreme Court of the Netherlands’ decision in the Urgenda case, holding the Dutch State responsible for excessive greenhouse-gas emissions.Footnote 50

Among cases that have already been decided, Eiser Infrastracture Ltd and Energia Solar Luxembourg Sàrl v. Kingdom of Spain illustrates the risk involved in rolling back incentive schemes for carbon-neutral investment.Footnote 51 In this case, two companies incorporated under the law of Luxembourg requested the institution of an arbitral tribunal under ICSID rules against Spain for modifying an incentive scheme for electricity produced from renewable energy sources adopted via Law 54/1997, in compliance with EC Directive 2001/77.Footnote 52 The scheme established preferential dispatch, premiums, and feed-in tariffs, particularly based on the quantity of electricity generated. The success of the scheme resulted in a tariff deficit, which prompted a reform via Law 24/2013, guaranteeing a yearly rate of return based on installed capacity and introducing a new tax on investors in renewable energy electricity generation. While the scheme did not absolutely exclude the possibility of a regulatory change, the Arbitral Tribunal held that the sudden and drastic reform program initiated by Spain in 2013 constituted a form of indirect investment expropriation, in breach of investors’ legitimate expectation, according to the FET standard under ECT article 10(1), duly awarding compensation for €128 million.

10.2.2.3 The Sunset Clause and the Modernization of the Energy Charter Treaty

The EU Energy Factsheet states that 75% of greenhouse gas emissions come from the energy sector and establishes that a reduction of at least 55% by 2030 demands ‘higher shares of renewable energy’, ‘greater energy efficiency’, and an ‘integrated energy system’.Footnote 53 Non-renewable energy is indeed responsible for 65% of greenhouse gas emissions.Footnote 54 For this purpose, according to the Factsheet, it is essential to foster investment in renewable energy.Footnote 55 The aim is therefore improving the target in renewables from 19% to 40% by 2030 under the Renewable Energy Directive.Footnote 56 Additional measures target an increase in energy efficiency from 17% to between 32% and 39% by 2030, reinforcing the ETS and creating separate ETS obligations for buildings and transport fuels.Footnote 57 It is nonetheless considered that continuing to protect foreign investment in fossil fuel under the ECT up to 2050 would lead to some €2.15 trillion in stranded fossil fuel assets, that is, more than twice the sum required to finance the European Green Deal across the next 10 years. This would increase cumulative carbon emissions under the ECT regime from a minimum 87 gigatons by the end of 2019 to a minimum 216 gigatons by the end of 2050, that is, more than one-third of the global carbon budget remaining to limit global warming to 1.5°C by the end of the century.Footnote 58

In practice, in 2015, claims for compensation triggered by cutbacks on subsidies to investment in renewable energy caused by the 2008 financial crisis prompted Italy to withdraw from the ECT.Footnote 59 The EU, which fathered the adoption of the ECT, considers that the ECT in its current form is such a serious impediment to the implementation of the Green Deal that it is resigning from the treaty, given that the clash has not yet been resolved in the context of the negotiations for the modernization of the Treaty.Footnote 60 However, if a party withdraws from the ECT, article 47 (the ‘sunset’ clause) provides that it remains bound to honour its investment obligations for a period of 20 years following the effective date of withdrawal.

One possibility for resolving the implications of the sunset clause would be for the parties to invoke ‘a fundamental change of circumstances which has occurred with regard to those existing at the time of the conclusion of a treaty’ under the clause rebus sic stantibus, allowing an unencumbered withdrawal from or termination of the ECT, according to article 62 of the VCLT and the VCLTIO. It could thus be assumed that climate imperatives were not adequately taken into account in the ECT at the time when it was adopted, as the Treaty was inspired by the model of bilateral investment treaties (BITs) and multilateral investment treaties (MITs) that prioritize investment protection and do not foster sustainable investment, while climate change currently requires an ‘unprecedented shift’ to carbon-neutral investment.Footnote 61 It could also be considered that the impact of climate change ‘radically transforms’ the ‘extent of obligations still to be performed under the ECT’, as required by VCLT and VCLTIO article 62(1)(b). However, the availability of the rebus sic stantibus provision is not obvious, as VCLT and VCLTIO article 62 demands a demonstration that climate change was not foreseen by the parties when the ECT was adopted in 1994, which essentially requires a ‘drastic’ change compared to the time when the ECT was adopted.Footnote 62 In the 1990s, the international community had a clear awareness of the problem of climate change, which is proven by the fact that the ECT was adopted at about the same time as the UNFCCC in 1994. It would therefore be difficult to argue that the absence of climate change ‘constituted an essential basis of the consent of the parties to be bound’ by the ECT, as required under VCLT and VCLTIO article 62(1)(a).

Reportedly, achieving sustainability entails a reduction of between 73% and 97% in the use of coal by 2050, 81% and 87% of oil, and 21% and 74% of gas, coupled with an increase in the share of renewables in global electricity supply of at least 63–77%.Footnote 63 The International Energy Agency (IEA) considers that low-carbon investment is currently inadequate to meet targets established under the UNFCCC and Paris Agreement,Footnote 64 and estimates that around US$44 trillion in investment is required to achieve them.Footnote 65 This only leaves as a solution for implementing the European Green Deal the avenue of bringing the ECT into conformity with the UNFCCC, which is the way forward envisaged in the 2010 Road Map of the Energy Charter Secretariat for the modernization of the ECT.Footnote 66 The EU has indeed proposed a ‘[m]odernised ECT’ that aims to ‘facilitate investment in the energy sector in a sustainable way between the ECT Contracting Parties’ via ‘a coherent and up-to-date legally binding framework’ fostering ‘legal certainty’ and ‘a high level of investment protection’.Footnote 67 According to the EU, the ECT should ‘reflect climate change and clean energy transition goals and contribute to the achievement of the objectives of the Paris Agreement’,Footnote 68 allowing the extension of EU environmental requirements to market participants from third-party countries.Footnote 69 NGOs have also requested a modernization of the ECT to facilitate a quicker transition to carbon-neutral energy, including a differential treatment for developing countries.Footnote 70

10.3 Turning the Energy Charter Treaty into a Climate Friendly Agreement?
10.3.1 Modernizing the Energy Charter Treaty

In 2015, a High-Level Ministerial Conference adopted the International Energy Charter (IEC) in The Hague.Footnote 71 The IEC aims to update the principles of the European Energy Charter within the global markets,Footnote 72 focusing on the energy ‘trilemma’, concerning energy security, economic development, and environmental protection. Fostering harmonized energy policies, the IEC acknowledges as ‘objectives’ under title I ‘energy efficiency’ and ‘environmental protection’, and promotes energy efficiency and the climate objectives established in the Paris Agreement and Sustainable Development Goal No. 7. With specific regard to investment, the IEC aims to remove barriers to energy-related investment and to foster stable investment conditions. The Charter notably supports the creation of conditions favourable to profitable investment in energy efficiency and environmentally friendly energy projects.

The IEC has paved the way for a reform of the ECT. In October 2017, the Energy Charter Strategy Group started discussions on the modernization of the ECT and established a Subgroup on Modernization. In November 2017, the Energy Charter Conference commenced consultations on modernization,Footnote 73 and in 2018 that Conference adopted the topics for the modernization of the ECT,Footnote 74 with a focus on investment issues. Climate change and binding obligations under the UNFCCC regime are key to the process of modernization. Furthermore, the ISDS system is under heavy criticism as a means for requesting multi-million dollar compensation from governments in private tribunals, along the lines of the work carried out by the UNCITRAL Working Group III and the ICSID.Footnote 75 From publicly available documents it can be seen that specific provisions on climate change,Footnote 76 including corporate social responsibility, have been proposed by sovereign entities, particularly the EU, and States such as Switzerland, Luxembourg, Turkey, and Georgia.Footnote 77 However, the path to sustainability is littered with hurdles. Substantially, modernization must take place in accordance with the just transition envisaged in the Paris Agreement (preamble), for instance, ensuring sufficient time for the fossil fuel sector to adjust,Footnote 78 along the lines of the EU Additional Submission to its Text Proposal for the Modernization of the ECT.Footnote 79 Not all States agree with the imperative of a change and, with coal-heavy economies such as Japan opposing a fundamental revision of the ECT,Footnote 80 negotiations stalled in June 2022.Footnote 81 Between 2019 and 2024, discussions on the modernization of the ECT have focused on issues spanning pre-investment, the definition of economic activity in the energy sector, and investment protection provisions.Footnote 82 Within this context, the EU has proposed a carve-out of fossil fuel from the ECT and the Secretariat has developed relevant options for discussion in line with the Paris Agreement.Footnote 83

10.3.2 Establishing a Preferential Track for Sustainable Investment

The most suitable option for aligning the ECT with the UNFCCC is extending protection for carbon-neutral investment already in place under the ECT.Footnote 84 De lege ferenda, some model proposals have been put forward in the field of investment, such as the TSICCMA, GIP and the Multilateral Treaty for the Encouragement of Investment in Climate Change Mitigation and Adaptation (MTEICCMA).Footnote 85 These proposals essentially aim to harmonize currently existing BITs and MITs under the umbrella of the UNFCCC.

The need to protect low-carbon investment could be embedded in the ECT by mentioning the stabilization of greenhouse gas emissions under the UNFCCC and the Paris Agreement as fundamental objectives in the initial provisions, notably the preamble and article 2.Footnote 86 Along the lines of TSICCMA article 2(3), GIP article 1 and the statement of objectives and principles of the proposal for a Framework Convention on Investment and Sustainable Development,Footnote 87 the ECT could thus affirm the commitment of the parties to meeting their duties under the Paris Agreement, in line with the Sustainable Development Goals. The EU Proposal for the Modernisation of the ECT envisages recognition of the Sustainable Development Goals and other key international environmental instruments, as well as the acknowledgement that the parties commit to ‘promoting the development of international trade and investment in energy-related sectors in such a way as to contribute to the objective of sustainable development’.Footnote 88 In more detail, the Proposal includes a provision stressing the ‘urgent need’ to pursue the stabilization of greenhouse gas emissions under the UNFCCC and the Paris Agreement, including commitments with regard to nationally determined contributions, effectively combating climate change and enhancing the contribution of trade and investment to mitigation and adaptation.Footnote 89

More specifically, in order to create an investment environment that eliminates carbon-intensive schemes and does not disincentive investment in carbon-neutral energy, in harmony with the UNFCCC regime, the ECT should prioritize low-carbon energy investment, particularly renewables, over investment in carbon-intensive energy,Footnote 90 along the lines of GIP article 4.Footnote 91 The distinction between carbon-neutral and non-carbon-neutral investment could be specified from the very inception of the ECT in the definition of ‘investment’ under Articles 1 and 19, which is currently uniform.Footnote 92

On this basis, it would be possible to exclude the application of the principle of non-discrimination, and thus of the MFN and NT principles, with respect to carbon-intensive investment, along the lines of TSICCMA article 3(2)(3), which provides that carbon-neutral and non-carbon neutral investments do not attract ‘like’ circumstances.Footnote 93 This would pave the way towards the elimination of existing incentives for carbon-intensive investment, as proposed under TSICCMA article 2(5) (on Limitation of Advantages and Rights of Unsustainable Investors and their Investments). Additionally, the application of ECT article 16, which prioritizes ECT obligations over other investment agreements less favourable to investment or investors, could be excluded in the case of carbon-intensive investment.Footnote 94

It would also be important to positively affirm the right of sovereign entities to adopt potentially disruptive mitigation and adaptation measures for climate change in the public interest, as proposed in TSICCMA article 5(1)(1), MTEICCMA article 20, articles 5–6 of the Green Investment Treaty (GIT),Footnote 95 and GIP article 12. A correlated fundamental change for withdrawing protection for unsustainable investment schemes is proposed in article 5(1)(3) of the TSICCMA;Footnote 96 such a provision establishes that the Model Treaty is not to be construed to compel the payment of compensation for a party that adopts non-discriminatory measures to protect the environment. This approach adjusts the FET standard to sustainability, consistent with GIP article 10.Footnote 97 The system is essential to excluding the possibility that international investment tribunals consider that State policies fostering carbon-neutral investment are in breach of investment protection duties under the ECT, as illustrated in the cases of Aura Energy and Uniper.Footnote 98 At the same time, it shields a State from compensation in the case of regulatory reforms rolling back incentive schemes for carbon-neutral energy, as illustrated in the case of Eiser Infrastructure.Footnote 99

A radically innovative approach aligns with the EU view that investment protection cannot be interpreted as an absolute commitment for governments not to change regulation in the future, shifting the focus from the negative impact on investors’ expectations and profits to the public interest.Footnote 100 The EU Text Proposal for modernization also requests that national sustainable development policies and priorities, although freely determined by the ECT parties, ensure consistency with commitments under internationally recognized agreements.Footnote 101 Notably, the Proposal affirms the right of the parties ‘to adopt or maintain measures’ implementing multilateral environmental agreements to which they have subscribed.Footnote 102 More specifically, the Proposal aims to commit the ECT parties to ‘removing obstacles to trade and investment concerning low-carbon energy technologies and services such as renewable energy production capacity’, via adequate policy frameworks.Footnote 103

Some provisions directly addressing investors, and thus individuals and corporations, rather than States and international organizations, could be inserted in the ECT to compel them to ensure that investment is consistent with environmental agreements, particularly the UNFCCC and the Paris Agreement, along the lines of TSICCMA article 4(1) and GIP articles 8 and 14. This aligns with the EU Proposal for the modernization of the ECT, which supports ‘responsible business practices in contributing to the goal of sustainable development’, whereby the parties commit to promoting corporate social responsibility and responsible business conduct, consistent with the Organization for Economic Co-Operation and Development’s Guidelines for Multinational Enterprises,Footnote 104 the UN Guiding Principles on Business and Human Rights,Footnote 105 and other relevant regulatory instruments.Footnote 106

Such reforms entail a radical rethinking of the text of the ECT. In this respect, the 2010 Road Map elaborated by the Energy Charter Secretariat for modernizing the ECT is quite restrictive, as it envisages that ECT investment provisions ‘should remain untouched in their fundamentals’.Footnote 107 Reforms could be facilitated by the fact that they are in line with the ECT PEEREA, although the Protocol is subordinate to the Charter according to ECT PEEREA article 13.

10.3.3 Designing Procedures for Carbon-Neutral Investment

As concerns decision-making and primary rules, the modernization of the ECT should be developed from both an ex-ante and ex-post perspective, establishing effective climate impact assessment procedures and adjudication mechanisms.

Ex ante, the ECT should include a duty to carry out environmental impact assessments for large-scale investment projects.Footnote 108 A model provision is embedded in GIT article 27 and TSICCMA article 6(2),Footnote 109 compelling the parties to ensure that their national laws require investors to conduct high-standard pre-establishment assessments on the positive and negative impacts of prospective investment regarding climate change mitigation and adaptation, including a quantification of greenhouse gas emissions. Additional procedural safeguards aiming to ensure effectiveness require that the assessment be carried out via an independent entity, include input from independent experts, be transparent and accessible, and involve affected communities. This aligns with recent corporate social responsibility regulatory measures undertaken by the EUFootnote 110 and the pathway traced in the Oxfam Novib, Greenpeace Netherlands, BankTrack and Friends of the Earth Netherlands (Milieudefensie) v. ING decision.Footnote 111 Similarly, the EU Proposal for the modernization of the ECT includes a modification of ECT article 19, requesting that the legislation of the ECT parties compel an impact assessment involving public participation prior to granting authorization for energy-related projects with significant environmental and climatic implications.Footnote 112

Ex post, some scholars consider that a reform of adjudication mechanisms under the ECT is fundamental for greening energy-related investment,Footnote 113 In particular, the ISDS system is seen as one of the root causes of massive compensation claims, owing to a lack of transparency and independence.Footnote 114 It has thus been proposed that the ECT establish a centralized appellate mechanism, a specialized ECT court, or a roster of arbitrators for ECT cases.Footnote 115 These solutions would align the ECT with the reform of the ISDS system envisaged by the EU, and particularly with the proposal for a Multilateral Investment Court.Footnote 116 Further prospective solutions include limiting the scope of application of the ISDS clause under the ECT, allowing class action and introducing State-to-State dispute settlement mechanisms, in addition to investor–State dispute settlement, as in the WTO Dispute Settlement Understanding.Footnote 117 It is considered that such mechanisms would prevent action against climate-friendly investment policies.Footnote 118

Prospective solutions go further and include ad-hoc procedures for violations of environmental provisions, as foreshadowed in the EU Text Proposal for the Modernization of the ECT.Footnote 119 A possibility would be including the right for natural persons and civil society organizations (that is, a right to class action) to lodge complaints with national contact points when an ECT party does not comply with its obligations to prioritize sustainable investment over carbon-intensive investment, along the lines of TSICCMA article 7(3). Following the expansion of substantive green investment obligations, the ECT could depart from the investor–State dispute settlement model and extend the spectrum of dispute settlement procedures to include, for instance, claims by the host State that an investor has breached climate-related obligations, along the lines of TSICCMA article 9(1) (on ‘Dispute Prevention and Settlement’).

An additional remedy to prioritize sustainable investment is the exclusion of international procedural avenues for unsustainable investors. Thus, TSICCMA article 9(1) allows investors in carbon-intensive energy to only put forward their claims in domestic courts and tribunals. The necessity of such an additional safeguard, reducing procedural remedies for unsustainable investment, should nonetheless be attenuated by substantive provisions prioritizing sustainable investment over unsustainable finance.

An improvement in transparency is also invoked for decision-making and adjudication procedures, in order to facilitate public understanding of investment and sustainability.Footnote 120 In this respect, the EU proposal for modernization provides that the contracting parties ensure ‘awareness’ and ‘reasonable opportunities’ for the participation of interested persons and stakeholders.Footnote 121

10.4 Conclusion

A systemic analysis of investment obligations under the UNFCCC and the ECT reveals several clashing obligations in the area of investment. While decarbonization is an absolute priority for States and international organizations under the UNFCCC, the ECT is still based on the model of BITs and MITs that protect investment in fossil fuel and clean energy alike, disregarding climate externalities. Such a clash has the potential to trigger requests for billions in compensation, seriously hampering the capacity of States and the EU to achieve their objectives under the UNFCCC.

This chapter argues that resignation from the ECT should not be the preferred option, particularly in the light of the ‘sunset clause’, which binds sovereign entities to respecting investment obligations under the ECT for an additional 20 years after the taking effect of resignation. Therefore, it is argued that the preferable solution for avoiding investment obligations under the ECT impeding the implementation of effective climate policies (mise en oeuvre) under the UNFCCC is rethinking the ECT in the context of the current modernization process, establishing a preferential track for investment in renewables.

Consistent with de lege ferenda model treaties in the area of investment and EU proposals for the modernization of the ECT, a preferential track for carbon-neutral investment should be established on grounds of environmental necessity, including additional environmental rights and obligations for sovereign and non-sovereign entities as well as reasonable adjustments to the FET standard. Substantive preferential measures should be complemented by improved ex-ante and ex-post ad-hoc enforcement procedures, including impartial environmental impact assessments, investor–State and State–State litigation, as well as the possibility of action by interested third parties.

11 Twin Transitions? Implementing Climate Policies in the European Union through Digital Transformation

11.1 Introduction

‘Digitalisation’ is the process of running a company through procedures that take place in digital format.Footnote 1 It involves the ‘digitisation’ of data and is at the basis of ‘digital transformation’, that is, the progressive digitalisation of business, which is a major societal challenge in our times. Because of its manifold implications – for instance, as regards our capacity to make informed decisions – digitalisation has been associated with the green transition, along the lines of the ideas of ‘digital sustainability’ and the ‘twin transitions’.Footnote 2

While the green transition and digital transformation have been traditionally pursued as part of separate policy areas, the United Nations (UN) has long underscored the need for States to adopt technologies that enable environmental sustainability and low-emission pathways.Footnote 3 Along these lines, in 2014 Singapore launched the Smart Nation Vision, a holistic policy aiming to achieve, inter alia, climate sustainability.Footnote 4 The programme includes a high-speed broadband network, establishing sensors across the island for monitoring purposes and training public agents in data science. To this end, a special regulatory framework has also been established to foster investment outside existing regulations. Concretely, the State makes water usage data readily accessible to residents for easy management of water consumption,Footnote 5 a technique that is considered to have wide positive impacts on climate.Footnote 6 Advanced urban congestion pricing has also been combined with a global navigation satellite system, allowing constant monitoring of traffic flow and improvement of traffic conditions. Testing projects co-ordinated by different government agencies helping to assess charging technologies and cybersecurity eventually led to the extensive adoption of electric cars and buses.

Particularly since 2015, the EU has started to promote the implementation of a joint approach, underscoring the beneficial outcomes expected from a digital policy designed to face environmental and climate issues. As pointed out by the Council of the EU in its conclusion on the Digitalisation for the Benefit of the Environment, information and communication technologies are fundamental tools for implementing environmental protection and tackling hazardous climate change. On this basis, the Council invited the Commission to adopt initiatives that aim at combining the European digital strategy with the objectives of the European Green Deal.Footnote 7 The benefits of a harmonised (‘twin’) strategy seem to be confirmed by pilot projects and studies highlighting how digital technologies and data analytics within residential buildings, in energy production processes as well as in the transport and agricultural sectors, can contribute to a significant reduction of greenhouse gas emissions.

Considering relevant cases, this chapter explores critically the potential of an integrated and co-ordinated approach between digitalisation and sustainability. First, the chapter illustrates the EU roadmap to make digitalisation and the green transition converge. Second, the chapter explores the pros and cons of the twin transitions. On the one hand, the chapter explores the role that diverse digital technologies can play in accelerating the transition towards a circular economy with net-zero emissions. This part of the research considers the possibility of exploiting digital technologies, such as artificial intelligence, the ‘Internet of Things’, and so-called ‘big data’, to achieve the sustainable development goals included in the UN’s 2030 Agenda and, more specifically, the EU’s binding goal of climate neutrality by 2050. On the other hand, the chapter considers the need to limit the adverse environmental effects deriving from the development and increased use of digital technologies. On this basis, the chapter develops several key suggestions for a better co-ordination of these twin transitions.

11.2 The European Union Roadmap to Digitalisation for Sustainability: A Holistic Approach

The EU has been particularly proactive in prompting the implementation of digital technologies for climate policies. In 2015, the European Commission adopted the Digital Single Market Strategy, which is one of the 10 political priorities of the Union.Footnote 8 The Strategy aims to join Member States’ digital markets as one, complementing the monetary union and single market, and facilitating seamless access to digital services and the digital economy to bolster the free movement of capital, goods, services and persons. This is a cornerstone of sustainability, as an essential step to achieving climate neutrality by 2050.Footnote 9 Indeed, the Strategy is based on three pillars, encompassing: (1) access, (2) secure and trustworthy infrastructures, and (3) maximising the growth potential of the European digital economy.

The first pillar seeks to implement better access for consumers, including individuals and corporations, to digital services across Europe. This necessitates the harmonisation of regulation on matters such as copyright, non-discriminatory contracts, and value-added taxation vis-à-vis digital data consumers.Footnote 10 The second pillar aims at creating trustworthy digitalised networks and a level playing field for network operators, through regulation ensuring competitiveness and data privacy across the borders.Footnote 11 The third pillar fosters investment in information and communications technology (ICT) infrastructures and techniques, such as cloud computing and Big Data, and inclusiveness.Footnote 12 This third pillar in particular is underpinned by the idea of ensuring that European industries are at the forefront of industrial processes for a sustainable economy.Footnote 13

Within this framework, the EU has adopted a variety of regulatory tools, whereby climate change and sustainability emerge as core objectives. In particular, in March 2021 the Commission adopted a Communication on the Digital Compass 2030,Footnote 14 which affirms the necessity of a sustainable and energy-efficient digital environment and EU leadership in evolving technologies such as 6G and quantum in the fight against climate change and environmental challenges.Footnote 15 Indeed, the Communication underscores the centrality of digitally enabled green solutions, including the institution of a European digital product passport to disseminate information on sustainable value chains and the necessity of massively investing in developing a digital technology industry in the EU.Footnote 16

Along these lines, in 2020 the European Commission adopted a Communication on a new industrial strategy.Footnote 17 This instrument seeks to leverage the internal market to make the EU a leader in industrial value chains across the spectrum, whereby energy-intensive sectors have a key role to play in reducing the Union’s carbon footprint. Such a transformation is underpinned by the enhancement of critical digital infrastructure, notably via the implementation of highly secured and state-of-the-art 5G and 6G networks.Footnote 18 More specifically, ‘smart sector integration’ and ‘trans-European energy networks’ emerge as core vehicles for achieving energy efficiency and creating new markets for climate neutral and circular products, such as steel and basic chemicals.Footnote 19 Digitalisation is therefore key to the aim of ‘modernising and decarbonising energy-intensive industries’ as ‘a top priority’, which necessitates ‘novel industrial processes’ as well as ‘more clean technologies to reduce costs and improve market readiness’.Footnote 20 The EU Emissions Trading System Innovation Fund is thus envisaged as an instrument to deploy ‘large-scale innovative projects’, such as the Comprehensive Strategy for Sustainable and Smart Mobility, and for integrating ‘clean products in all energy-intensive sectors’.Footnote 21

On 23 February 2022, the Commission put forward a proposal for a Regulation on data, which is seen as ‘a core component of the digital economy, and an essential resource to secure the green and digital transitions’.Footnote 22 Grounded in article 114 of the Treaty on the Functioning of the European Union (TFEU), which allows the approximation of rules for the establishment and functioning of the internal market, the regulation aims to allow ‘a greater and fairer flow of data in all sectors’, spanning business-to-business, business-to-government, government-to-business and government-to-government interaction.Footnote 23 The Regulation thus provides an obligation for the producer to make available to the consumer and, upon request, to third parties, data related to a product in business-to-business and business-to-consumer relations (chapter II). Similarly, in case of need, a data holder must make available data to public institutions, for instance, when necessary to respond to emergency situations or for the fulfilment of public tasks (chapter III). For the purposes of ensuring competitiveness and flexibility, chapter VI establishes rights such as the possibility of terminating a data-processing service contractual agreement, after a maximum notice period of 30 calendar days. To ensure interoperability, chapter VIII establishes that operators of data-processing spaces ensure that data set content, use restrictions, licences, data collection methodology, data quality and uncertainty be sufficiently outlined to allow the recipient to find, access and use data. Procedurally, Member States are requested to designate adequate independent authorities to monitor the implementation of the regulation, with broad competence spanning the investigations of alleged violations and the monitoring of technological developments relevant to the availability and use of data (chapter X).

On 14 December 2022, the Parliament, Council and Commission adopted Decision 2022/2481, confirming the Digital Decade Policy Programme 2030, aiming to make digital infrastructure and technology more sustainable, resilient and energy- and resource-efficient and contributing to a sustainable circular and climate-neutral economy and society along the lines of the Green Deal.Footnote 24 The programme harmonises national policies via Member States’ digital decade strategic roadmaps and co-operation between these and the Commission, in consultation with stakeholders (articles 7 ff.). The day after, this was followed by the solemn proclamation of the Declaration on Digital Rights and Principles.Footnote 25 The Preamble to the Declaration not only acknowledges that the digital transformation affects every aspect of peoples’ lives, and offers significant opportunities for sustainability (per paragraph 2), but also challenges fundamental rights (per paragraph 3). The aim is to establish a model of digital transformation that ‘strengthens the human dimension of the digital ecosystem with the Digital Single Market at its core’, ensuring that ‘technology assists in addressing the need to take climate action and protect the environment’ (preamble, paragraph 5). Besides the essential right to the protection of personal data under chapter II, in line with article 7 of the EU Charter of Fundamental Rights, the Declaration embeds an entire chapter (VI) on sustainability. This provides that, in the context of a circular economy, digital products and services should be produced, used, repaired, recycled and disposed of so as to mitigate their negative impact on the environment, avoiding premature obsolescence and implementing effective universal access to information to allow responsible choices (per paragraphs 24–25). For this purpose, the EU particularly commits to promoting innovative digital technologies with a positive effect on the environment and climate, accelerating the green transition (per paragraph 25).

This brief overview of EU regulatory initiatives shows that the Union takes a holistic approach to the ‘twin’ transitions. Digitalisation is thus comprehensively embraced as a key means, if not the fundamental panacea, to achieve the objectives of the Green Deal and ultimately climate neutrality by 2050. While regulatory initiatives and studies commissioned by EU institutions,Footnote 26 notably the Declaration on Digital Rights and Principles, indicate that the EU is fully aware of regulatory problems raised by the necessity of achieving digital harmonisation in the common market, for instance, as concerns competitiveness and cybersecurity,Footnote 27 the idea is essentially that smart grids are the way forward to achieve the green transition.

11.3 Digitalisation and Climate Change
11.3.1 Digital Transformation and Sustainability

Digitalisation entails business procedures that take place in digital format. It therefore involves digitisation, to the extent that information stored in non-digital format – including images, words, sound and signals – is fundamentally captured as a digital representation. This is based on binary numbers, facilitating processing by computer machines. Digital business resulting from digitalisation involves both digital and physical activity, with the digital format at its core. Thus, for example, social media, manufacturing and monitoring take place in dual format.

Although other features are also important, it is predominantly the Internet, blockchains, and the Internet of Things which are crucial to the digital world. Digitalisation involves several advantages, as it accelerates activities, facilitating data processing, storage, and transmission. Digital data can thus be processed and transmitted indefinitely without degradation, at high speed and negligible cost. The Internet can be defined as a global system of interconnected computer networks, that is, a set of networked electronic, wireless and optical technologies.Footnote 28 Within the Internet framework, blockchains are distributed ledgers involving expansive lists of records (that is, the ‘blocks’) that are interconnected via cryptographic hashes.Footnote 29 In a broad sense, the Internet of Things defines the material technology, including items such as computers and mobile devices, that are necessary to the functioning of the digital world, while in a narrow sense it indicates the connection of the Internet to the real world via sensors.Footnote 30 Everyday items such as home appliances, cars and electricity grids are indeed connected to communication networks, delivering a range of services.Footnote 31 Naturally, the Internet facilitates the exchange of digitalised data by connecting private, public, academic, business and government networks on a local and global scale. For instance, a document transmitted in digital format can be communicated via the Internet to the other side of the world much quicker than in hard copy via courier. It is considered that Internet traffic has tripled over the past five years and more than three and a half billion people – that is, essentially half of the global population – currently use the Internet, in an upward trend from only half a billion in 2001.Footnote 32

For the reasons above, among others, the digital transformation has unique and significant potential to foster sustainable development. According to the World Economic Forum, digital technologies can reduce global greenhouse gas emissions by 15%, that is, a third of the reduction needed by 2030 to achieve the objectives of the Paris Agreement.Footnote 33 In the agricultural sector, mobile devices and drones are used to facilitate the monitoring of soil conditions and field spraying, as well as in collecting data on promising crop varieties and field-specific sustainable agricultural practices.Footnote 34 In the area of transport, digital technologies improve efficiency in cargo transportation and facilitate managing traffic data, thus, for example, alleviating or obviating traffic jams, inefficient fuel consumption and polluting greenhouse gases. Moreover, the implementation of digital conferences and emails significantly contributes to reducing travels and thus carbon emissions.Footnote 35 As paper is made out of wood, digitalisation can help to save paper consumption, and thus forests as a core carbon sink. Blockchains and the Internet of Things can meaningfully contribute to protecting biodiversity. For instance, blockchains are useful to track practices such as deforestation and overfishing. Big data collected via Earth remote sensing through satellites can be relied upon to monitor phenomena such as marine, soil and air pollution, fishing, bushfires, floods, earthquakes, hurricanes and droughts, thus facilitating the planning of mitigation measures and the implementation of adequate adaptation policies.Footnote 36 For example, sensors connected to the Internet (‘Internet of the environment’) can contribute to controlling deforestation, which is responsible for around 15% of greenhouse gas emissions worldwide.Footnote 37 Last, but not least, digitalisation facilitates disseminating information about sustainability – it contributes in this way to creating and sharing knowledge among businesses and individuals.Footnote 38

11.3.2 Digitalising the Energy Sector

The most promising sector for matching digital transformation and climate sustainability is that of energy. Fundamentally, the current energy cycle is based on the extraction of fossil fuel, which directly powers the bulk of global industry, transport, and buildings. Indirectly, fossil fuel or low-carbon energy sources – particularly solar and wind energy – are used to generate electricity, which further powers industry, transport and buildings.Footnote 39 Since the 1970s, the energy sector has been a pioneer in digital technologies and the pace of digitalisation is increasing, with investment in digital technologies by energy companies on the rise. Indeed, digitalisation can improve the efficiency and cost-effectiveness of energy production, transmission, distribution and consumption.

From the standpoint of energy production and delivery, the oil and gas sector has traditionally relied on digital technologies, particularly in the upstream value chain. Digitalisation also has the capacity to optimise production processes related to coal. For instance, big data sets obtained via seismic surveys of land and oceans contribute to outlining reservoirs and oil, gas and coal extraction. Prospectively, miniaturised sensors can improve the extraction of coal, oil and gas from reservoirs. In fact, companies rely on digital technology for activities such as modelling and automating the exploration and production of oil and gas and to operate grids. Drones and other digital techniques can be deployed to monitor the functioning of remote pipelines and prevent or repair malfunctioning; this is particularly important for low-cost detection of methane emissions potentially occurring at any stage of oil and gas production and transportation. Sensors can also help to provide information on the state of transmission and distribution in electricity networks and blockchains are particularly efficient in simplifying a decentralised management of energy resources. Furthermore, digitalisation facilitates the integration of electricity produced via renewable energy sources into electricity markets. For instance, smart grids allow the matching of demand and electricity, with consumers also exporting electricity to the grid when equipped with solar panels,Footnote 40 whereby the use of blockchain technology facilitates peer-to-peer electricity trading.Footnote 41 It is calculated that improving electricity storage can lead to avoiding around 30 megatonnes (Mt) of carbon dioxide (CO2) emissions within two decades.Footnote 42 Thus, for example, investment in digital electricity infrastructure and software has increased by more than 20% yearly since 2014.Footnote 43

At the intersection between energy and other industrial sectors, on the consumption side, industry accounts for about 38% of global final energy consumption and 24% of CO2 emissions.Footnote 44 It is considered that the industry sector is currently undergoing the fourth industrial revolution (industry 4.0), which relies on digitalisation rather than automation, including the modular production of smart objects via smart factories.Footnote 45 Internally, digitalisation can lead to energy savings via improved production process control, supporting a shift towards a sustainable business model.Footnote 46 For instance, 3D printing, also known as ‘additive manufacturing’, allows the production of both plastic and metal parts layer-by-layer,Footnote 47 leading to a reduction of wastage in the form of excess scrap materials, lower inventory costs and the possibility of delivering manufactured parts in shapes.Footnote 48 Externally, digitalisation enhances connectivity between producers in value chains, improving, for instance, the recycling of materials.Footnote 49

In the building sector, which accounts for almost one-third of global final energy consumption and some 55% of global electricity demand,Footnote 50 digitalisation has the potential to cut energy use by around 10% by 2040.Footnote 51 Notably, smart energy management can contribute to ensuring that energy is consumed when and where necessary by improving the responsiveness of energy services to the environment, for instance, through reliance on technologies such as the use of smart sensors in lighting, heating and cooling. Smart energy management can also maximise efficiency in energy consumption by effectively predicting consumer behaviour and simplifying the monitoring of the energy performance of buildings, facilitating the identification of where and when maintenance is required, thus maximising investment.

Transport accounts for around 28% of global final energy demand, and roughly 23% of global CO2 emissions from fuel combustion,Footnote 52 with a growth in energy consumption for transport of almost half to 165 exajoules expected by 2060. Digitalising the manufacturing process for electric- and hydrogen-powered modes of transport, including cars, ships and planes, would significantly reduce greenhouse gas emissions. Introducing viable hydrogen engines into widespread, mainstream production would lead to a significant reduction in greenhouse gas emissions and possibly to the end of the oil era – or, at the very least, to its sharp curtailment. Cars, trucks, planes, ships, trains and their supporting infrastructure are indeed becoming smarter and more connected, improving energy efficiency and reducing maintenance costs. For instance, commercial aircraft and ships are progressively being equipped with sensors, generating big data that optimise route planning and reduce fuel consumption.Footnote 53

11.4 Twin Transitions?
11.4.1 Digital Pollution

Systemic studies demonstrate that digitalisation has an overall positive impact on climate change and sustainability.Footnote 54 However, together with its significant advantages, the digital transformation also entails relevant shortcomings for the green transition. Some scholars indeed speak of the ‘false green label’ of digital transformation, thus reaching the diametrically opposite conclusion that ‘digital consumerism’ is unsustainable.Footnote 55

Fundamentally, while facilitating information transfer, the global digital data flow affects data protection, in turn affecting the reliability of the system in the eyes of the consumer. In particular, concerns are raised by personal data, which amount to about half of the data traded by companies, notably in the telecommunication, financial and business services sectors.Footnote 56 Moreover, the digitalisation of the economy raises the question of large companies, which can create monopolies and the corresponding risk of abusing dominant positions. Besides these problems of trust and market management, there is no agreement on the extent to which the digital transformation effectively contributes to the green transition. Thus, while some estimates determine savings triggered by a paperless environment at around 25%, others are far more sceptical, considering that most logging does not necessarily go into papermaking and is rather driven by mere economic considerations.Footnote 57

In the energy sector, it is calculated that digitalisation, in conjunction with advances in electrification, might result in substantial greenhouse gas emission impacts, but estimates are uncertain, so much so that energy consumption in road transport might either drop by about half or double, particularly in the light of the interplay between policy and technology.Footnote 58 Notably, in the building sector, considerations of a technical and economic nature affect the consumer’s choice as to whether to install control systems such as smart sensors and lighting, whereby financial incentive schemes play a critical role. The extent to which a company engages in digital production is volatile and depends on issues such as the flexibility of supply chains, the impact of digital technologies on employment and cybersecurity; thus, for example, in 2017 the functioning of a nuclear power plant in the United States was disrupted by phishing attacks. In this respect, governments can play a crucial role by supporting research and developments that mitigate investment risk. In the coal, oil and gas production sectors, projects usually take years to develop, whereas digital technologies evolve rapidly and it is therefore difficult to incorporate changes into conventionally defined, multibillion-dollar projects. Moreover, it is considered that the use of digital technologies has the potential to improve technically recoverable oil and gas by around 5% on a global scale, with particular regard to tight oil and shale gas production, that is, more than 10 years of current world oil and gas consumption.Footnote 59 Digitalisation also discloses the possibility of further improving geological modelling and mining for coal.Footnote 60 Extended exploitability of fossil fuel fosters linear growth and consumption and naturally contributes to an increase in greenhouse gas emissions.

Furthermore, the digital transformation itself is (invisibly) polluting.Footnote 61 On the one hand, there are indirect emissions triggered by the production of digital devices, such as mobile phones and computers, that is, the Internet of Things lato sensu, involving the extraction of materials such as cadmium, which contribute to greenhouse gas emissions. For instance, mobile phones have a manufacturing phase that accounts for between 85% and 95% of their carbon footprint.Footnote 62 Moreover, the use of digital devices leads to the production of about 50 million tons of so-called ‘e-waste’ on a yearly basis, mostly in developing countries, around only 20% of which is recycled, the remainder being dumped into the subsoil in developing countries.Footnote 63 Recycling is particularly complex because e-waste involves common elements, such as lead and chromium, as well as rare minerals, such as scandium and lutetium, which are highly polluting and demonstrably harmful to health.Footnote 64

On the other hand, there are direct emissions from digital activities, as the functioning of the digitalised world entails massive electricity consumption. This leads to a predicted use by ICT networks at about 20% of total world electricity consumption by 2025, and consequent greenhouse gas emissions.Footnote 65 Thus, improved product efficiency is largely offset by increased overall use because of the so-called ‘behavioural response’. According to some estimates, digital technologies emit around 2% of global emissions, but with a significant increase expected in the mobile communication sector.Footnote 66 Other estimates determine the share of global emissions from digital technologies between 3% and 4% by 2020, increasing from 1.5% in 2007.Footnote 67 Indeed, global email usage generates as much CO2 as seven million cars and each email user in the UK sending one less email a day would lead to reducing emissions by 16,433 tons of CO2, the equivalent of 81,152 flights from London to Madrid.Footnote 68 So too, message services and video-streaming have a carbon footprint: considering that using a mobile phone over one hour generates 1.25 tons of CO2, it is estimated that using a mobile device for 10 years would equal 85–95% of the carbon footprint in the production phase. On average, though, mobile devices have a serviced life of roughly two to three years, following the marketing of new models, according to a system that is profitable to business and increases emissions in the production phase. The European Environmental Bureau considers that extending the use of electronic devices by one year would save the EU a total amount of carbon emissions equivalent to those produced by two million cars.Footnote 69 Even devices on standby have a carbon footprint, which a study sets at around 23% of household electricity consumption,Footnote 70 whereby it is calculated, for instance, that the largest share of a computer’s global warming potential is due to non-use phases.Footnote 71 Indeed, electronic devices such as televisions and computers count for half of the idle load of a household, and appliances such as washers and fridges with electronic controls and improved Internet connectivity add around 1300 kilowatt-hours – that is, US$165 on current exchange rates– to a household’s electricity bills.Footnote 72 According to the International Energy Agency, 50% of household electricity demand for appliances by 2040 will come from connected devices – on the one hand, creating opportunities for smart responses, but increasing consumption of standby power on the other.Footnote 73

In sum, the current trend of digital consumption in the world is unsustainable.Footnote 74 In this context, most ‘digital’ greenhouse gas emissions come from developed countries, which raises questions of human rights implementation.Footnote 75 To make this situation more sustainable, we need to think about digitalisation as a constitutive element of transitions and a driver of sustainability in transitions, problematising implications for a just and low-carbon future.Footnote 76 Responsible consumption and production is at the core of the transformation and of the implementation of the UN Sustainable Development Goals, calling for industrial processes that implement an efficient use of natural resources, reduce waste generation and adequately manage polluting products.Footnote 77 Notably, responsible conduct by digital consumers is required, extending the life of computers and mobile devices as much as possible, turning off videos in online conferences and unsubscribing from mailing lists that are not of interest.Footnote 78 Policy and market design are core to achieving these objectives, thoroughly harnessing the potential of digital tools towards sustainability.Footnote 79

11.4.2 Data Choices

Where the EU takes climate policy digitalisation from here may seem an entirely practical matter of how far that technical process can be stretched and at what marginal cost. But certainly, if the point is to improve our understanding of climate change and its impact on human concerns, we must at the very least recognise the existence of a broader normative context within which that question arises. Digitalisation, after all, is but one element in a larger process of reducing to numeric form elements of our shared experience that, heretofore, are encountered in some other form. This reductive process is premised upon several assumptions.

First, reducing all of human experience (or, as much of it as possible) to numeric form assumes that, in so doing, we increase humanity’s information database. Of course, this does not mean that we actually know more at that stage of the process. It does, however, mean that more of what we know (or, think we know) can be transmitted electronically and can be ‘processed’ at high speed by artificial minds. This achievement, it is assumed, will ultimately allow us to create new knowledge by combining and recombining what we already know in new ways.

A second assumption underlying numeric reductionism is that the new information it enables us to create has utility – that (in one way or another) it will prove to be of value. Now, there are many who will become wary at the first mention of value. And they will become more anxious still when reminded of Sir Francis Bacon’s observation that knowledge is power.Footnote 80 But there is, of course, a third, less obvious assumption buried just beneath the surface of the second one. It is that whatever normative challenges may arise from the quantum leap in size that the human database takes as a consequence of digitalisation can be managed by the same technology that allowed us to do the leaping. After all, our cellular phones already sort out nuisance calls for us and either label them as spam or consign them to a subfile with an appropriately dismissive label – thereby giving us permission to simply ignore them.

Much of the information overload imposed on human beings by digitalisation is managed in just this way – the ‘excess’ material is simply ignored. That coping mechanism imposes costs of its own, of course – a fact with which everyone in complex organisations everywhere is thoroughly familiar. And one aspect of that familiarity is the sneaking suspicion that the organisations to which we ‘belong’ may be plotting our disposal in favour of a mechanised mind that has been taught to do our jobs. This suspicion, and the plotting that inspires it, is based upon the assumed identity of the mind and the brain. It is assumed that ‘computer processes like searching, comparing, classifying, adding, and deleting are used by the brain to process information’ and that what the human brain does is what we generally think of when we speak of making up our minds.Footnote 81 So, the next logical step in the process of digitalisation and the broader numerical reductionism of which it is a part is the development of artificial ‘minds’ that will compensate for human carelessness and sloth in the handling of our newly created information avalanche.

The development of artificial intelligence as a means for handling the information overload in governance is an ambition of longstanding.Footnote 82 The course of artificial intelligence’s development has been structured by the problem of finding the things that a human mind can do that an artificial brain currently cannot and then teaching the computer that new skill. So, when confronted with the fact that no computer has ever become world chess champion, artificial intelligence developers will often respond with but a single word – ‘yet’. And it is true enough that to conclude something cannot be done simply because it never has been is rarely warranted. In this field, as in so many others, embarrassing failures are often the precursors of dramatic breakthroughs. In the light of this, it might seem futile to problematise the role of artificial intelligence in complex governance contexts such as climate policy implementation. However, there may be some advantage to turning the artificial intelligence developer’s motivating question on its head. Instead of asking what a human mind can do that an artificial brain cannot, perhaps there is value in asking what a computer can do that human beings cannot.

As the digitalisation of climate policy implementation continues – as we reduce to numeric form more of what we experience and ‘know’ – the temptation will grow to use our information processing capacities not to expand our database so much as to sift, combine and recombine its contents in an effort to interpret that content. In short, our search for knowledge will drive a search for understanding. Here, the abilities that computers have that we poor humans lack can be significant. For instance, humans are generally incapable of ‘processing’ information that has no context. The human ability to interpret our experiences is culturally dependent in innumerable ways, while the computer’s ability to process meaningless data is so well known that it has its own acronym: GIGO (‘garbage in, garbage out’). Our inability to process data without clarity on its context (and, thus, its significance to us) is the primary reason that whereas a computer can always reach a decision, humans instead must often simply choose. This simple fact may mean that artificial intelligence will be incapable of answering our toughest questions ‘because it is not in contact with the reality we all must live within’ and, so, cannot help us with ‘the dilemmas of cultural debate and hard personal choice’.Footnote 83 However, their ability to process gibberish may not be the weakest point in the armour of artificial intelligence. There may be another even more troublesome thing that computers can do which human beings cannot.

In the 1983 motion picture War Games, the defence of the United States has been consigned to an imponderably complex super-computer. The disaffected programmer who developed the computer has failed to communicate to it his central normative commitment on the subject – that nuclear wars have no winners. In this fraught moment, the computer is ‘attacked’ by a teenaged hacker in search of new and more challenging video games. The hacker inadvertently starts a countdown to Armageddon that is forestalled only when he is able to lock the computer into endless rounds of tic-tac-toe with itself. At length, the computer decides to give up both its games of tic-tac-toe and Global Thermonuclear War in favour of chess. The world was saved, and an aspiring young actor launched a successful career. But it remained unclear how the computer managed to grasp the logically difficult concept of unprovable truths. A mathematician confronted with Golbach’s Conjecture (that every even number can be written as the sum of two prime numbers) must ultimately accept it as an act of faith, as an unprovable truth. They may offer any number of justifications for the choice of when to stop looking for a proof, but it is always a choice rather than a rationally explicable decision.

Confronted with such a problem, a computer would only be able to arrive at a decision if it had been provided with some bit of automatic program that imposed a limit on search functions with the substitution of some sort of probability algorithm. As a practical matter, the substitution of that kind of routine runs the risk of creating a ‘technological black hole, in which humans will not be able to understand the reasoning behind computer results that make key decisions’.Footnote 84 But from a normative perspective, it reveals perhaps the most important thing that computers can do which human beings cannot. When pressed to explain one of its decisions, a computer would ultimately have to respond with some variation of ‘because you told me to’.Footnote 85 Unlike humans, a computer must uncritically take a programmer’s word for it. Humans must never do this. And, in particular, those humans involved in any form of climate governance can never do it because policy implementation in that field (to an even greater degree than most others) is a form of communicative action – a search for consensus among humans who ultimately must choose because they will never be able to genuinely decide. That search produces actionable results only in the form of ‘moments of unconditionality’ that embody ‘criticisable validity claims’ whose legitimacy lies in the ‘conditions of processes of consensus formation’ that produced them.Footnote 86 And, this kind of human action cannot be programmed for the same reason that Goldbach’s Conjecture cannot be proven.

11.5 Conclusion

The EU has holistically embraced the digitalisation of the internal market as a priority and a key means towards the implementation of the Green Deal and climate policies. Digitalisation indeed provides several advantages in terms of climate change mitigation and adaptation, spanning smart grids, improved monitoring of environmental phenomena such as earthquakes and hurricanes, and limited pollution in extracting oil and gas. However, at the same time, digitalisation entails critical shortcomings, spanning increased greenhouse gas emissions from improved availability of oil and gas reservoirs to the heightened carbon footprint of digital devices actively operated or on standby and the difficulty of managing digital and climate choices. Advantages and shortcomings are strictly intermingled, and scholars are divided as concerns the viability of digitalisation for sustainable policies and the implementation of the European Green Deal, as proven by the experience of other jurisdictions.

While a holistic approach to digitalisation for sustainability seems a viable option, it is suggested that the EU couple this fundamental policy choice with a careful balance of pros and cons in outlining the prospective digital transformation of its economy for climate sustainability. In this sense, EU policies correctly aim to create a competitive playing field and promote adequate information among producers, service providers and consumers, within and outside the energy sector, to optimise the choice and use of digital technologies. Besides such measures, it is essential that the EU monitor the impact of digitalisation on overall energy demand, avoiding an excessive increase in energy consumption. For this purpose, EU policymakers might couple the holistic acceptance of digitalisation with a ‘learn by doing’ attitude, setting a variety of real-world experiments across supply chains to test the viability of its digital policy, in close collaboration with stakeholders.

12 Carbon Sequestration and Ocean Governance: Emerging Challenges between Traditional Sovereign Rights and the Need for Global Regulation

12.1 Introduction

Climate change has noticeably demonstrated its ability to provoke noxious impacts on any component of the Earth’s environment, including oceans.Footnote 1 The most patent example of this deleterious impact on the seas is provided by the increasing presence of carbon dioxide (CO2) gathering therein. This presence is due to different reasons: on the one hand, the increasing CO2 in the atmosphere is absorbed by the oceans that typically serve as a natural carbon sink.Footnote 2 For this reason, the amount of CO2 is significantly more sizeable in the oceans than in the atmosphere.Footnote 3 On the other hand, the increasing presence of CO2 that is observed in the oceans originates from ship-born carbon emissions that directly affect seawater.Footnote 4

The rising CO2 presence also brings about the acidification and rising temperature of the oceans. These chemical and physical alterations are the reasons for the dramatic modifications of marine ecosystems: the shrinking of living resources, such as coral reefs, and relocation of animal species towards different latitudes. The degradation of the marine environment also affects human populations, especially those whose lives depend on the exploitation of marine resources.

Finally, the higher temperatures of the atmosphere and oceans bring about sea-level rise. This type of alteration does not only have a negative impact on marine ecosystems; the rise of sea levels may also alter the geophysical configuration of State coastlines and, consequently, the extent of the maritime areas that are subject to State jurisdiction. In the most serious circumstances, entire territories, such as small islands, may be submerged. Thus, even the statehood of small island States may be threatened. In fact, the permanency of the sovereign rights of these States is questionable because it is unclear in which territory such rights might be exercised.Footnote 5

As affirmed above, oceans are threatened by climate change like any other component of the Earth’s environment. However, they also play an important role as a natural carbon sink, in which CO2 is sequestered and stored.Footnote 6 In order to mitigate the degradation of the global environment, scientists have suggested enhancing this function of the oceans by means of some anthropogenic interventions, such as carbon sequestration.Footnote 7 For the purposes of the present paper, carbon sequestration is ‘the long-term storage of carbon in plants, soils, geologic formations, and the ocean’ that is artificially enhanced through human interventions.Footnote 8 At present, these interventions are not yet entirely practicable. In addition, the safety and long-term impact of these activities on the oceans is still uncertain. However, the urgent need to mitigate climate change may compel States or private persons to resort to actions the safety of which is not entirely verified.Footnote 9

In the light of the above, the identification of proper technical and legal solutions seems to be necessary to safeguard both the rights of States and individuals and the conservation of the oceans. Carbon sequestration at sea is indeed key among prospective carbon sequestration methods, which fundamentally also include carbon capture and storage on land and via chemical processes such as the construction of absorption towers. While carbon capture is essential to achieving the objectives set in the United Nations Framework Convention on Climate Change (UNFCCC) and the Paris Agreement, all of these techniques are in their infancy and entail overcoming complex issues in order to be cost-effective. This chapter underscores the pros and cons of carbon sequestration at sea as a test case and aims to ascertain whether existing international provisions are suitable for a broader and more evolutionary interpretation or if new specific substantive norms are required to regulate and control activities, such as carbon sequestration, that may mitigate the noxious impact of climate change on the oceans. The interaction between climate change and the preservation of the oceans primarily involves two international regimes, namely, those concerning climate change and the law of the sea. The climate-change regime does not have specific provisions concerning the impact of climate change on the oceans, but its norms apply with respect to both land and seas in the same manner.Footnote 10 The law of the sea regulates several aspects concerning the conservation of the marine environment. Together with the general obligations that are included in the UN Convention on the Law of the Sea (UNCLOS),Footnote 11 more precise provisions are established in the maritime conventions that have been adopted within the International Maritime Organization (IMO) framework with the aim of preserving the marine environment, such as the Convention on the Prevention of Marine Pollution by Dumping of Wastes (‘Anti-Dumping Convention’)Footnote 12 and the International Convention for the Prevention of Pollution from Ships (MARPOL regime).Footnote 13 Nevertheless, none of these norms regulates the impact of climate change on the oceans.

Therefore, existing international provisions seem to require co-ordination and adaptation to the emerging challenges affecting the oceans due to climate change. In spite of the absence of specific substantive norms concerning this matter, the most significant discrepancy between the climate-change regime and the international law of the sea concerns jurisdictional provisions. While the UNFCCC and Paris Agreement primarily establish obligations with respect to the States from the territory of which carbon emissions and other greenhouse gases originate, the international law of the sea recognises the powers and responsibility of States exercising sovereign and exclusive rights over some maritime areas. In addition, the management of the deep seabed is governed according to rules that must be internationally agreed, at least according to Part XI of the UNCLOS.

This discrepancy between the jurisdictional provisions of the climate-change regime and the law of the sea is justified by the fact that climate-change measures, unlike the law of the sea, are usually aimed at the mitigation of rather than adaptation to the noxious impacts of climate change on the environment.Footnote 14 However, the State-centric approach emerging from both the climate-change regime and international law of the sea does not seem to provide adequate solutions to mitigate the adverse effects of climate change on the oceans. In this regard, some form of global governance seems to be required in order to safeguard and manage sea waters in the common interest regardless of the fact that these goods appear to be under State jurisdiction. Similarly, the mitigation of climate change requires the co-ordinated conduct of all States and private entities in order to be effective. Attention must be paid to some international legal regimes, for example, the Antarctic Treaty System (ATS), which establishes common rules and obligations with respect to States setting aside the jurisdictional criterion that is based on territorial sovereignty.

In short, the purpose of this chapter is to analyse the current norms of international law of the sea with the aim of identifying the appropriate legal instruments to regulate both the emerging challenges affecting the oceans due to climate change and the performance of the mitigating and adaptive measures that scientists have recently proposed to fight these challenges.

12.2 Anthropogenic Carbon Sequestration in the Oceans

Carbon sequestration is a natural function of the oceans, as they capture CO2 from the atmosphere and store it in their depths. Scientists have suggested enhancing this natural function through human intervention. One of the most frequently proposed solutions is ocean afforestation. Ocean afforestation ‘involves offshore transport and concurrent growth of nearshore macroalgae (seaweed), followed by their export into the deep ocean’.Footnote 15 In fact, some living species, such as mangrove forests, saltmarsh and seagrass, are effective natural carbon sinks.Footnote 16

Ocean afforestation may occur in both coastal and open waters. However, there is a significant difference between these two hypotheses as concerns applicable norms. If human intervention is aimed at enhancing the growth or introduction of new seaweeds in sea waters that are close to the coastline, the role of coastal States is crucial for the management and control over these activities. By contrast, according to the international law of the sea, ocean afforestation activities that are carried out in international waters might be barely monitored by States other than the one performing such activities. Offshore afforestation is even more difficult to control when it is carried out by private entities.Footnote 17

In spite of the fact that ocean afforestation undeniably facilitates carbon sequestration, scientific evidence has also demonstrated that seaweeds grow rapidly and have short lifespans. This effect results in the production of an extensive quantity of residues that remain in the oceans. In addition, the proliferation of seaweeds, which provide food for fish, enhances the increase of fish stocks.Footnote 18 Thus, ocean afforestation patently entails the alteration of the marine ecosystem including the modification of ocean chemical, physical, and ecological features.Footnote 19 Moreover, navigation may be hindered by the excessive presence of seaweeds floating offshore. As such, regardless of the legal implications that may originate from the performance of afforestation activities in the different maritime areas, even from a merely scientific point of view, these activities seem to require a meticulous assessment in terms of their impact on the marine ecosystem.Footnote 20

Another activity that has been proposed by scientists in order to enhance the function of carbon sequestration of the oceans is fertilisation, that is, the addition of nutrients, such as iron or nitrates, to the upper layers of the oceans.Footnote 21 This activity partially overlaps with ocean afforestation. In fact, iron fertilisation may facilitate the growth of ocean phytoplankton that, as affirmed above, is a biological pump sequestrating inorganic carbon.Footnote 22 Moreover, iron fertilisation may favour the formation of carbonate sediments on the sea floor that are capable of dissolving calcium carbonate minerals in the sea waters. Consequently, both the volume of CO2 in the atmosphere and the amount of ocean acidification would decrease significantly.Footnote 23

In spite of these positive effects, ocean fertilisation fundamentally entails the dumping of external matter into the oceans. Dumping at sea has been regulated under international law for at least five decades. In addition, as has been highlighted by scientists,Footnote 24 ocean iron fertilisation might have a negative impact on climate change because it can increase ocean nitrification, more precisely the presence of nitrous oxide (N2O) in the oceans and atmosphere, which is a much more powerful greenhouse gas than CO2.Footnote 25 Therefore, the appropriateness of this type of measures for the mitigation of the noxious effects of climate change must be scrutinised from both the scientific and legal perspectives.

Finally, carbon sequestration may entail the storage of CO2 in the oceans. This type of sequestration may occur either in the mid-depth ocean,Footnote 26 or by means of the injection of CO2 directly into the ocean floor. The latter solution combines geological sequestration and ocean sequestration.Footnote 27 Thus, the burial of CO2 into the seabed might affect one of the most controversial issues that are dealt with under the law of the sea, namely the management and control of the deep seabed. In addition, uncertainty concerns the safety of an activity, such as CO2 burial, which entails the creation of stationary CO2 sinks in the oceans.Footnote 28

In sum, waiting for more precise scientific information concerning the feasibility and safety of ocean carbon sequestration, an analysis is required to ascertain whether and how such an activity may be regulated under the current provisions of the international law of the sea.

12.3 Carbon Sequestration and the Law of the Sea

As affirmed above, there are no specific provisions of the law of the sea that are aimed at mitigating the noxious effects of climate change on the oceans. This is not surprising, in the light of the fact that the most significant legal instrument concerning the law of the sea – the UNCLOS – was adopted in 1982 when the issue of climate change had not yet attracted the attention of mainstream political and legal audiences.

Nevertheless, the UNCLOS outlines general principles including the duty to protect the marine environment. These principles must be considered to ascertain if and to what extent UNCLOS norms may guide the adoption of measures aimed at the mitigation of the adverse effects of climate change. Moreover, in the light of the highly invasive capacity of climate-change adaptation methods, such as carbon sequestration, their legitimacy must be scrutinised in relation to the UNCLOS principles.

Among general rules, the fundamental duty to protect the marine environment is sanctioned in article 192 of the UNCLOS. To this end, article 194 recognises the obligation of States to adopt preventative and control measures. Most specifically, under articles 207 and 208 of the UNCLOS, States must adopt legislation for the prevention of marine pollution originating from activities that are carried out on land and in the seabed under State jurisdiction, respectively. In both these cases, the State that is competent to adopt such legislation is the coastal State that has jurisdiction over the land and seabed, namely, its territory and continental shelf. By contrast, according to article 209, the protection of the marine environment corresponding to the Area – that is, the seabed and ocean floor and subsoil thereof, beyond the limits of national jurisdiction (UNCLOS article 1(1)) – is ensured by means of agreed international rules. An example of this type of rule is the Agreement on the conservation of marine biological diversity beyond national jurisdiction recently finalised at the UN.Footnote 29 Article 7, setting the fundamental principles of the Agreement, establishes an obligation to preserve marine biodiversity against the adverse effects originating from climate change.Footnote 30

As set out above, even ship-borne CO2 emissions may enhance the noxious impact of climate change on the oceans. Therefore, the UNCLOS recognises regulatory and control powers over vessels in order to prevent their polluting activities. In this regard, vessels are primarily subject to the jurisdiction of their flag State according to the criterion of ‘nationality’.Footnote 31 This is particularly so with respect to cases in which a vessel carries out polluting activities in international waters. Moreover, coastal States may exercise their territorial jurisdiction over foreign vessels that have caused or may cause pollution in their territorial sea and exclusive economic zone (EEZ).Footnote 32 However, according to article 211(5) of the UNCLOS, which regulates the activities that occur in the EEZ, coastal States can only adopt domestic legislation that is consistent with generally recognised international obligations. In recent times, some States have attempted to enact national legislation that is aimed at safeguarding the marine ecosystem within their jurisdiction against the adverse effects of climate change.Footnote 33 Nevertheless, other States may claim that this legislation is too restrictive and, thus, inconsistent with some of the existing international rules of the law of the sea, such as the norm recognising the freedom of navigation. For this reason, agreed international norms are needed to avoid conflicting views relating to the fundamental issue of the conservation of the marine environment.

Finally, port States may carry out controls over foreign vessels that are voluntarily within their ports in order to ascertain if these vessels comply with technical requirements that ensure that their navigation is not detrimental for the marine environment.Footnote 34 In addition, according to article 217 of the UNCLOS, port States may conduct investigations with respect to foreign ships that are assumed to have carried out polluting activities in international waters.

Thus, under the UNCLOS, the governance of the oceans resides in the hands of a few States that may regulate and control the human activities that affect the marine environment. This may prevent the uniform and effective enforcement of general international obligations. This is particularly so with respect to the non-environment-friendly conduct that, in international waters, may be carried out by the vessels flying the flag of a State the legislation of which is not particularly concerned with the conservation of the oceans.

The duty to prevent the adverse effects of climate change on the marine environment seems to be implicitly sanctioned in the abovementioned provisions of the UNCLOS due to their very general content. However, these norms just define the framework within which more specific provisions are adopted.Footnote 35 In addition, the jurisdictional criteria that underpin the UNCLOS do not guarantee the conservation of the oceans in the common interest. By contrast, both the UNFCCC and the Paris Agreement seem to allow States to adopt measures that are applicable to mitigate the negative impact of climate change on the areas that are located beyond national jurisdiction, such as the international seas.Footnote 36 Therefore, the co-ordinated application of the norms of the climate-change regime and the law of the sea might facilitate the adoption of the most appropriate regulatory measures. In particular, the synergy of these two legal regimes seems to be necessary to face the new challenges that are affecting the governance of the oceans.

One of these challenges concerns the delimitation of the maritime areas, over which coastal States exercise their jurisdiction. According to the UNCLOS, the extent of the territorial sea, continental shelf, and EEZ is measured from the low-water line along the coastFootnote 37. Increasing sea-level rise, which is one of the detrimental effects of climate change, may shift the inner limit of the territorial sea and EEZ inward so as to expand their actual breadth beyond the maximum extent allowed under the law of the sea (which is 12 and 200 nautical miles, respectively). In this case, the strict application of the law of the sea would compel coastal States to move the outer limits of their maritime areas inward so as to guarantee that the maximum extent of these areas is respected. Nevertheless, the recognition of the duty of co-operation between States that is sanctioned in the climate-change regime in order to fight the adverse effects of climate change should also justify a more flexible application of UNCLOS provisions concerning the delimitation of maritime areas. This approach seems to have been also adopted by the International Law Association, which, on the grounds of legal certainty and stability, has suggested that the outer limits of maritime areas be maintained as they were originally defined in spite of the changes occasioned by any future sea-level rise.Footnote 38 Indeed, the law of the sea already establishes exceptional rules when particular geographic conditions are present, for example, the cases in which coastlines are deeply indented or face fringes of islands. In these cases, straight baselines joining projecting coastal points may be drawn.Footnote 39 Along these lines, the peculiar physical conditions of coastlines that originate from sea-level rise might justify the application of special rules for the delimitation of corresponding maritime areas.

Most dramatically, in the case of the disappearance of entire territories, such as small island States, the maritime areas corresponding to such territories no longer have a reason to exist according to the law of the sea. In fact, the exclusive rights that coastal States enjoy over their maritime areas are the extension of the sovereign rights that are recognised over their territory. In this regard, a distinction must be drawn between the rights of the State (that is to say, the governmental organisation with respect to which international personality is recognised) and the rights of the population of such a State. In fact, if the territory of a State totally disappears under the sea, the State loses one of the main features allowing the recognition of its international personality. The termination of the rights of a State should not necessarily entail the cessation of the rights of the population of this State over marine natural resources that are located in the waters that used to be the maritime areas of the disappeared State.Footnote 40 It has indeed been suggested that the population should retain its human right to self-determination,Footnote 41 which encompasses both civil and economic rights, such as the right to preserve its land, waters, and cultural identity and the right to have access to the marine resources on which these persons have habitually based their life.Footnote 42 Thus, current challenges that are raised by adverse climate-change conditions require adapting the existing norms of the law of the sea to the new physical and legal status of the oceans. Within this context, a further challenge affecting both the climate-change regime and the law of the sea concerns the need to regulate and control those human interventions aimed at enhancing natural processes with a view to mitigating the adverse effects of climate change, such as ocean afforestation and fertilisation. In this regard, the law of the sea can supplement the climate-change regime with some substantive rules and enforcing instruments that may ease control over human intervention. In fact, human activities that are aimed at enhancing natural carbon sequestration may also have a noxious impact on the marine environment.Footnote 43 Agreed international rules and enforcing instruments are necessary to avoid States and private actors enacting ocean afforestation and fertilisation measures independently. These measures have so far remained on paper, although some States have recently shown interest in testing their effectiveness.Footnote 44 In this regard, the norms of the UNCLOS concerning land-originated pollution may be of assistance to establish some limitations to ocean afforestation that may harm the marine environment. According to article 207 of the UNCLOS, coastal States are responsible for those noxious effects created by activities such as the planting of new mangrove forests in their territorial sea. In fact, under article 1(1)(4) of the UNCLOS,Footnote 45 ocean afforestation may be considered as a polluting activity when it results in the alteration of the chemical, physical, and ecological features of the marine ecosystem. The responsibility of coastal States may be also envisaged when navigation in international waters, which are close to the coast, is hindered by the excessive presence of seaweeds floating offshore due to afforestation activities on the land or in the maritime areas under the jurisdiction of a State.Footnote 46

Similarly, ocean fertilisation may be in some way equated to dumping activities. In fact, under articles 1(1)(5)(a)(i) and 4(1)(1) of the UNCLOS and the 1996 Protocol to the Anti-Dumping Convention, respectively, dumping is defined as ‘any deliberate disposal of wastes or other matter from vessels, aircraft, platforms or other man-made structures’. Although fertilising substances may be beneficial to enhance the carbon sequestration capability of the oceans, they are undoubtedly extraneous elements that are introduced into the sea. This view has been also embraced in the Anti-Dumping Convention regime, including two non-binding resolutions prohibiting ocean fertilisation save for scientific purposes (and subjecting such activity to the assessment framework for scientific research).Footnote 47 More recently, the Parties to the Anti-Dumping Convention have made some amendments to existing obligations so as to make binding the provisions of the abovementioned resolutions. These amendments, which are not yet into force, also encompass the definition of both ‘marine geoengineering activities’ and ‘ocean fertilisation’, which are considered anthropogenic interventions affecting the natural features of the marine environment.Footnote 48

The law of the sea may also govern activities affecting the burial of CO2 in the seabed. For example, according to Annex 1 to the 1996 Protocol to the Anti-Dumping Convention, CO2 streams may be injected into the sub-seabed only if CO2 is their primary component.Footnote 49 In addition, under article 6(2) of that protocol, the export of CO2 streams may only occur upon the agreement of the exporting and importing States.Footnote 50 This is also in line with the provisions of article 210(5) of the UNCLOS, which requires the express prior approval by a coastal State for dumping activities that are carried out within its territorial sea, EEZ, and continental shelf. The rights of coastal States to permit, regulate, and control dumping activities in the waters under their jurisdiction are supplemented by the right and duty of control that flag States may exercise over the vessels flying their flag and the power of investigation that port States may carry out with respect to foreign vessels that are assumed to have carried out polluting activities in the international sea.

In addition, scientific uncertainty concerning the feasibility and safety of carbon sequestration measures requires carrying out some impact assessment, as highlighted by both scientists and lawyers.Footnote 51 The obligation of carrying out such an assessment, which is sanctioned in articles 206 of the UNCLOS, seems to reflect the basic features of the precautionary principle, although this rule was not yet explicitly recognised at the time of the adoption of the UNCLOS. The need to adopt a precautionary approach is also reflected in the regime originating in the Biological Diversity Convention,Footnote 52 which in 2012 established a moratorium with respect to ‘geoengineering activities that have a potential to cause significant adverse transboundary effects, and those deployed in areas beyond national jurisdiction’.Footnote 53 In addition, express reference to the precautionary principle is made with respect to innovative actions that States may enact in the oceans in the Declaration on ‘Our ocean, our future, our responsibility’ that was adopted during the 2022 UN Conference to Support the Implementation of Sustainable Development Goal 14.Footnote 54

Thus, the synergic application of the provisions of the climate-change regime and the law of the sea may contribute to the regulation of specific maritime activities, such as those aimed at ocean carbon sequestration. In fact, on the one hand, States must carry out such activities with a view to the common interest of mitigating the adverse effects of climate change. In this regard, the provisions of the climate-change regime establishing global goals may allow a more flexible application of the norms of the UNCLOS sanctioning the rigid distinction between the governance of maritime areas that are under State jurisdiction and those in international waters. On the other hand, the scientific uncertainty of carbon sequestration measures makes their performance at sea potentially harmful for the conservation of the marine environment. Therefore, according to the more flexible interpretation and co-ordinated application of the UNCLOS norms with the provisions on climate change, States might also exercise their enforcing powers that are recognised under the law of the sea to ensure that carbon sequestration measures are lawfully carried out in international waters.

12.4 Global Governance and Ocean Carbon Sequestration: The Antarctic Treaty Model

Ocean carbon sequestration measures, like other instruments aimed at mitigating the adverse effects of climate change, require the active involvement of the entire international community for at least two reasons. First, the anthropogenic activities that provoke the alteration of climate conditions touch upon nearly every part of this planet. Thus, global co-operation is needed to adopt co-ordinated rules to eradicate the problem: carbon sequestration measures may be effective only if they are applied at the global level. Second, conservation of the oceans affects the interests of the entire international community because the marine ecosystem and its resources permit the physical, economic,Footnote 55 and, in some cases, cultural existence of States, private entities, and humankind as a whole. For this reason, the oceans are included in the category of the so-called ‘global commons’, namely those goods that must be preserved in the common interest.Footnote 56 Thus, the oceans must be preserved against the detrimental effects that may derive from both climate change and carbon sequestration measures entailing hazardous activities.

Existing international norms do not provide a satisfactory solution to this problem. The provisions of the climate-change regime identify common goals in view of the common interest in the conservation of adequate climate conditions, but they do not establish detailed enforcing measures to achieve such goals. By contrast, the provisions of the law of the sea only establish precise obligations with the aim of safeguarding the exclusive rights that States enjoy in the maritime areas under their jurisdiction. The only detailed provisions aiming at satisfying the common interest are the norms of Part XI of the UNCLOS concerning the management of the Area, which, as is well known, is considered part of the ‘common heritage of humankind’. However, Part XI establishes an excessively rigid regulatory and institutional system that cannot be replicated to ensure the safeguard of the goods that have not been declared as ‘common heritage of humankind’, such as territorial and international waters.

Therefore, the emerging challenges affecting the oceans due to climate change and the uncertainty of the appropriateness and safety of the mitigating instruments that have been so far proposed by scientists call for the adoption of regulatory measures that both identify common goals and establish effective enforcing instruments to ensure the conservation of the marine environment. In this regard, the ATS,Footnote 57 which originates in the eponymous Antarctic Treaty,Footnote 58 provides a model for an international regime governing an area of global importance without resorting to the criteria of ‘State territorial sovereignty’ and the ‘common heritage of humankind’. In fact, according to the so-called ‘bifocal approach’,Footnote 59 ATS obligations concerning the management of Antarctica are equally applicable to both the State parties claiming sovereign rights over some of the Antarctic territories and those State parties that deny the legitimacy of these claims.Footnote 60 In line with this approach, the Protocol on Environmental Protection, which was added to the Antarctic Treaty in 1991,Footnote 61 embraces an ecosystem-focused approach, according to which comprehensive protection must be ensured with respect to any Antarctic lands, waters, and resources.Footnote 62 Consequently, the safeguarding of these areas and resources is guaranteed by paying attention to their intrinsic physical characteristics rather than to the condition of being under the jurisdiction of a State. If similar provisions were established to safeguard the oceans against the detrimental effects of climate change, all maritime areas, whether under or beyond State jurisdiction, would enjoy the same level of protection.

Furthermore, in order to ensure the effective conservation of the Antarctic environment, the Protocol on Environmental Protection adopts a rigid precautionary approach according to which a prior environmental impact assessment must be carried out with respect to any human activity that is planned in Antarctica.Footnote 63 Impact assessment procedures are also subject to the scrutiny of an international body, the Committee for Environmental Protection, aiming to provide scientific and technical advice to the State parties to the Antarctic Treaty.Footnote 64 In line with this rigid precautionary approach, article 7 of the Protocol establishes a moratorium on the exploitation of mineral resources, except for scientific purposes, in order to prevent irreversible detrimental effects on the Antarctic environment.Footnote 65 Such an approach would also be beneficial to ensure the adoption of safe carbon removal measures, such as ocean afforestation and fertilisation activities, which may have a significant impact on the marine ecosystem.

Although the ATS is aimed at regulating all the activities occurring in Antarctica in order to provide the overall protection of the land and marine environment, it does not include detailed provisions concerning the mitigation of the adverse effects of climate change on the Antarctic environment. In spite of the fact that governmental and non-governmental organisations had already raised this issue at the end of the twentieth century,Footnote 66 the State parties to the Antarctic Treaty only paid their full attention to the matter in 2009, when a special meeting of experts was established to study the interaction between climate change and Antarctica.Footnote 67 This group adopted 30 recommendations indicating which measures should be adopted, within and outside the Antarctic area, with the aim of mitigating the impact of climate change on the region.Footnote 68 For example, according to recommendation 7, State parties should consider the risk deriving from climate change when they carry out impact assessment procedures for the future construction of permanent structures in Antarctica. Most recently, the Committee for Environmental Protection adopted the Climate Change Response Work Programme,Footnote 69 and established the Subsidiary Group on Climate Change Response to facilitate the implementation of the programme.Footnote 70 The group must identify the goals to be pursued and the actions that must be prioritised with a view to the mitigation of the detrimental effects of climate change in Antarctica. The relocation of alien species and ocean acidification are at present some of the main concerns of the Climate Change Response Work Programme. As observed above, both the presence of alien species and ocean acidification equally affect the oceans in other areas of the planet. However, in some unfortunate circumstances, these matters may also be the result of the adoption of carbon sequestration measures, such as ocean afforestation and fertilisation. For this reason, measures should be implemented with caution.Footnote 71

Arguably, a regime regulating the impact assessment of the activities that are carried out in the oceans should be inspired by the same rigid precautionary approach that has been adopted within the ATS. The success of this system has so far resided in the capacity to identify common goals that could be achieved by the States parties by means of their enforcing powers that are definitely more effective than those included in any existing international regime.

12.5 Conclusion

The increasing adverse effects of climate change, particularly on the oceans, calls for a rapid and effective response by the international community as a whole. Scientists have so far proposed solutions that may facilitate CO2 reduction in the atmosphere by means of mechanisms allowing carbon sequestration in the oceans. Other means include carbon capture and storage on land and via chemical processes such as the construction of absorption towers. Scientific tests on these mechanisms cast doubts on the future possibilities of controlling carbon emissions. The increase of phytoplankton originating from anthropogenic afforestation and fertilisation significantly enhances the carbon-storing capacity of the oceans; nevertheless, scientific certainty does not yet exist as to the safety of these carbon sequestration mechanisms. This is due to the fact that the application of carbon sequestration methods is more difficult in the oceans than on land. In fact, carbon sequestration measures may have noxious effects on marine ecosystems and provoke some unforeseeable chemical interaction between the oceans and atmosphere.Footnote 72 It is therefore necessary to establish agreed international standards for the performance of climate-change mitigating measures in order to avoid the autonomous initiatives of some States or private entities resulting in the aggravation of the already dreadful climate conditions of the oceans.

The adoption of common rules requires States to abstain from pursuing selfish interests if, in so doing, they would jeopardise the global goal of improving climate conditions. This renunciation does not entail the denial of those sovereign rights that the international law of the sea recognises in favour of coastal States over their maritime areas. Rather, State sovereignty and corresponding enforcing powers may serve to hinder noxious activities affecting marine ecosystems. Thus, coastal, flag, and port States should act as the custodians of the maritime areas that are under and beyond their jurisdiction with the purpose of accomplishing the global goal of safeguarding the oceans for the sake of the international community as a whole.

In addition, the agreed international rules governing climate-change policies and adaptive mechanisms should also pay attention to the diverse interests of States and private entities that are at issue. In a context where an evolutionary interpretation is required to recognise the rights of the populations that may lose the terrestrial and marine sources essential to their physical, economic, and cultural existence, the obligations of exchanging information and providing scientific and technical assistance should be guaranteed with respect to developing countries in accordance with both the climate-change regime and UNCLOS, in line with the principle of ‘common but differentiated responsibility’ established in article 4(1) of the UNFCCC.Footnote 73 The sharing of scientific knowledge concerning carbon removal, such as ocean afforestation and fertilisation, is even more significant because it is necessary to ensure compliance with the rigid precautionary approach that must be adopted to enact these techniques.Footnote 74

Finally, an effective regime for the global governance of crucial issues, such as climate change and corresponding carbon sequestration mechanisms, requires enhancing co-operation between different international legal systems to facilitate the adoption of similar rules within each system with the purpose of achieving common goals.Footnote 75 In this regard, the co-ordinated application of the climate-change regime and the law of the sea would be beneficial to ensuring the conservation of the oceans against the adverse impact of climate change.Footnote 76 These international legal systems appear to be more similar than expected if their basic principles and objectives are compared with each other.

13 Climate Change and the Arctic: A Study of Paradoxical Linkages in Complex Systems

13.1 Introduction

Given that the Arctic region has only about four million human residents, little industrial activity other than operations associated with the exploitation of natural resources, and no large-scale agriculture to speak of, it may seem reasonable to conclude that the high latitudes of the northern hemisphere are relatively unimportant in terms of the global problem of climate change. Certainly, it is true that direct anthropogenic emissions of greenhouse gases originating in the Arctic are extremely modest, especially when calculated as a fraction of global emissions. Yet it would be a serious mistake to ignore the role of the Arctic in the dynamics of climate change as a global concern. There are at least three reasons why this is the case, all of them featuring what I will argue in this chapter are paradoxical linkages in complex systems with important implications for what goes on in the mid-latitudes.

Arctic processes play roles of fundamental importance in the dynamics of the Earth’s climate system. This is not only a matter of incremental developments like the lowering of the albedo of the Earth’s surface – that is, the measure of diffuse reflection of solar radiation by the Earth’s surface – arising from the melting of sea ice and snow cover on land. It is also a matter of critical tipping elements in the climate system featuring Arctic processes. In addition, the impacts of climate change are showing up more rapidly and dramatically in the Arctic than anywhere else on the planet. Temperatures are rising in the Arctic today at a rate that is at least three times the global average. As a result, issues of adaptation to the impacts of climate change now top policy agendas throughout the Arctic, despite the fact that human activities in the Arctic are not major sources of greenhouse gas emissions. At the same time, the impacts of climate change in the Far North have increased the accessibility of recoverable reserves of Arctic hydrocarbons, opening up new opportunities for the exploitation of the region’s large deposits of oil and especially natural gas and stimulating major international investments in systems for producing and shipping these energy resources to consumers in the industrialized societies of Europe and Asia. Notably, the development of Arctic hydrocarbons has become a cornerstone of the reconstruction of the economy of the Russian Federation following the 1991 dissolution of the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics, creating a national interest of vital importance to policymakers in Moscow.

In this chapter, I examine these roles of the Arctic in climate change, paying particular attention to paradoxical linkages that play out in complex systems. In the next three sections, I consider each of the mechanisms identified in the previous paragraph. With an understanding of these mechanisms in hand, I turn in the penultimate substantive section to an assessment of efforts to make use of international arrangements to address issues arising from the roles of the Arctic in climate change. Because the Arctic consists in large part of areas under the jurisdiction of leading states, such as Canada, Russia, and the United States, there is a sense in which the issues I identify are suitable for consideration in global arenas like the Conference of the Parties to the United Nations Framework Convention on Climate Change (UNFCCC) and the Meeting of the parties to the 2015 Paris Agreement. Nevertheless, the Arctic has an intergovernmental body of its own known as the Arctic Council, established under the terms of a ministerial declaration in 1996 with a mandate to deal with matters of environmental protection and sustainable development of interest to the Arctic States.Footnote 1 Climate change has been a topic of primary interest to the Arctic Council from its inception through to the present time. The council operates under severe restraints with regard both to its authority to make decisions on matters of substance and to the availability of material resources needed to engage in programmatic activities. The current war in Ukraine has had a disruptive impact on the operations of the council. Nevertheless, the council has played a role of some importance when it comes to documenting what we now regard as the climate emergency and to identifying means to address the challenges of climate change. I explore ways in which the Arctic Council has been able to take steps that are relevant to the problem of climate change, despite the severe constraints under which it operates. I also note the adverse circumstances facing the Council today and what they mean for its work relevant to the problem of climate change. In the concluding section, I turn to the future, using the case of climate change and the Arctic as a vehicle for discussing ways to think about resilience and to respond to critical transitions in complex systems.Footnote 2 What are the options for those responsible for dealing with situations in which it is known not only that critical transitions will occur from time to time and that these transitions may feature non-linear developments of an abrupt character, but also that there is no way to produce confident predictions regarding either the exact timing or the precise form of these developments?

13.2 The Arctic in the Earth’s Climate System

One way to think about the roles of the Arctic with regard to climate change is to focus on incremental changes in key variables that can be tracked quantitatively through the compilation of time-series data. A prominent example involves measurable increases in temperature at the Earth’s surface. Temperatures in the Arctic have risen by 2–3°C in recent decades, whereas the global rise in surface temperatures stands at a little over 1°C. This trend, observable in the divergence of the two trajectories starting in the 1990s, is expected to continue during the foreseeable future. In fact, the gap between the trend line in the Arctic and the global trend is growing. An assessment completed in 2021 by the Arctic Monitoring and Assessment Programme, a working group of the Arctic Council, confirms that temperatures are now rising in the Arctic at a rate that is at least three times the global average.Footnote 3

A similar picture emerges from data documenting declines in the abundance and distribution of sea ice in the Arctic over the course of the last few decades. The extent of sea ice in the Arctic varies seasonally, reaching a maximum annually in March and a minimum in September. The extent of sea ice in the Arctic Basin has declined sharply since the 1980s. Most experts expect this trend to continue during the coming years, opening up the prospect that the Arctic will be largely ice-free for several summer months as early as the 2030s and 2040s.Footnote 4 Some have even begun to speak of a ‘death spiral’ of Arctic sea ice, anticipating a future in which what is generally regarded as a defining feature of the Arctic becomes a thing of the past.Footnote 5 Whether or not this development comes to pass, it is clear that the shifting ice regime in the Far North is a critical feature in the rise of what many now speak of as the ‘new’ Arctic.

What makes these Arctic developments critical with regard to the dynamics of the Earth’s climate system is the operation of positive feedback mechanisms. Rising temperatures accelerate the melting of snow and ice exposing darker surfaces which have a lower albedo and absorb more solar radiation than snow or ice. This, in turn, drives temperatures higher, giving rise to the thawing of permafrost rich in carbon dioxide and methane and creating conditions conducive to the outbreak of massive fires in the high latitudes of the northern hemisphere. In central Siberia, known for its historically extremely low temperatures, the temperature reached an all-time high of 38°C in the summer of 2020, and there is no reason to treat this as a fluke. Similarly, the melting of sea ice produces great increases in expanses of dark seawater, which absorbs far more solar radiation than ice, giving rise to a continuing feedback loop and contributing to the general warming of the oceans.

While these incremental developments play a significant role in the dynamics of the Earth’s climate system, there is another way to think about the role of the Arctic in the climate system that sharpens the paradoxical nature of this relationship and makes the idea of a global climate emergency even more compelling. The key idea here concerns tipping elements or mechanisms that could trigger what are known as critical transitions or bifurcations (in contrast to oscillations) producing fundamental shifts in the character of the Earth’s climate system.Footnote 6 Experts have identified a number of these tipping elements, including some like transformative change featuring replacement of the Amazon rainforest with open savannah-like ecosystems that centre on developments occurring in the mid-latitudes. A striking feature of this line of thinking, however, is that several of the most prominent tipping elements in the climate system involve Arctic or Subarctic processes.Footnote 7 These include the emergence of an ice-free Arctic Basin, the decline and eventual collapse of the Greenland ice sheet, die off in the vast boreal forests of Siberia and North America, and more or less drastic shifts in the Atlantic Meridional Overturning Circulation (AMOC) system. While it is notoriously difficult to assign probabilities to the likelihood of such occurrences, it is worth emphasizing the magnitude of the mechanisms involved. The Greenland ice sheet, for example, contains enough ice that its collapse would raise sea levels on a global scale by some 6–7 metres. Most assessments of the mass-balance of this ice sheet suggest that the melting of the Greenland ice sheet may take several centuries. There are good reasons to believe that the process is already underway, however, with evidence collected from ice-core drilling projects in Greenland indicating that sharp shifts in the condition of the ice sheet have occurred over remarkably short periods of time in the past.Footnote 8

Evidence assembled in recent years reinforces this picture of the critical role of the Arctic in the Earth’s climate system. It is now understood, for example, that there is more carbon dioxide locked in the permafrost of high northern latitudes than the total of all anthropogenic emissions of carbon dioxide since the beginning of the Industrial Revolution; the shallow coastal waters of Arctic seas are rich in methane clathrates.Footnote 9 The melting of permafrost and the warming of coastal waters could lead to a destabilization of these reservoirs of greenhouse gases and a resultant migration of some of them into the atmosphere. The mechanisms involved in these processes are subjects of considerable debate within the scientific community at the present time. There is certainly no justification for assuming that these greenhouse gases will migrate from terrestrial and marine systems to the atmosphere in a mighty flood. Still, continuing scientific research on the Earth’s climate system is reinforcing the basic proposition that the Arctic plays a critical role in the Earth’s climate system, despite the low level of anthropogenic emissions of greenhouse gases emanating from the region. Serious efforts to meet the goal of the 2021 Glasgow Climate Pact to limit temperature increases to 1.5°C relative to pre-industrial levels on a global basis must pay attention to the role of the Arctic in the Earth’s climate system.

13.3 Adaptations to the Impacts of Climate Change in the Arctic

These observations set the stage for a discussion of a second major paradox involving complex linkages associated with climate change and the Arctic. Anthropogenic emissions of greenhouse gases originating in the Arctic are minuscule as a proportion of global emissions. But the Arctic is ground zero with regard to the impacts of climate change – the biophysical and socioeconomic effects of climate change are showing up sooner and more dramatically in the Arctic than anywhere else on the planet.Footnote 10 As a result, some observers have taken to treating the Arctic as the canary in the coal mine when it comes to monitoring the onset of climate change on the planet and thinking about the challenges of adaptation. Although this image is somewhat distasteful in humanitarian terms, it does capture the sense of urgency regarding the status of the Arctic as the leading edge when it comes to recognizing and (hopefully) responding to the onset of climate change. Equally important from the perspective of policy is the fact that Arctic communities and all those concerned with the future of the Arctic must now turn their attention to matters of adaptation to conditions arising from the impacts of climate change. Of course, there is great variation from one subregion to another and even from one community to another within the same subregion when it comes to identifying and responding to the challenges of adaptation. Nevertheless, the Arctic today does offer an opportunity to begin to think rigorously about what is involved in efforts to adapt to the impacts of climate change and the relative merits of a variety of response strategies ranging from local initiatives to international measures.

For Arctic communities, the challenges of adaptation are associated with the biophysical impacts of climate change.Footnote 11 The recession of sea ice has increased the vulnerability of coastal areas to the impact of storm surges. As a result, many areas are now experiencing severe coastal erosion causing shorelines to move landward by many metres each year. Human communities dependent on resources derived from the sea (such as marine mammals and fish) are typically located in close proximity to the coast to afford easy access to the sea and to minimize the energy required to engage in harvesting and processing marine resources. The result, in a growing number of cases, is that the land on which coastal communities are located is literally collapsing into the sea. In some cases, there is room to adapt in a defensive fashion by constructing seawalls or relocating the most exposed houses and related facilities. For all this, more and more coastal communities are facing the necessity of relocating altogether, moving to higher ground and more defensible situations. Relocating entire communities, however, turns out to be extraordinarily challenging not only due to social differences within communities regarding specific options and political hurdles relating to the legal status of alternative sites, but also because the cost of relocating even small communities can easily run into tens or hundreds of millions of dollars. Not surprisingly, adaptation in such cases typically becomes a protracted process fraught with numerous pitfalls and obstacles to progress.

A somewhat similar picture emerges from a consideration of pressures to adapt to the impacts of thawing permafrost. Most infrastructure in the Arctic (such as buildings, roads, airports, pipelines, and utility systems) is built on frozen ground. So long as conditions remain stable, it is possible to take this fact into account at the design stage and to construct facilities that are compatible with these conditions. But the impacts of climate change are leading to rapid increases in the depth of the active layer of the permafrost in many parts of the Arctic, and it is difficult to predict what to expect in this regard over a period commensurate with the normal lifespan of most types of infrastructure. Already, reports of more or less severe damage caused by the thawing of permafrost are mushrooming, and the costs of developing effective solutions to this challenge are likely to be daunting. In all those cases where successful adaptation is likely to be beyond the means of local communities, complex questions concerning the roles and responsibilities of local, state/provincial/oblast, and national governments come into focus. At this stage, the way forward with regard to adapting to the impacts of permafrost thawing is anything but clear.

Other challenges of adaptation of a somewhat similar nature are coming into focus across the Arctic. Ice roads, which are critical for winter travel in many parts of the Arctic, are now useable for shorter and shorter seasons. Massive fires, attributable to higher temperatures and drier conditions, now rage out of control in large parts of Siberia, the Canadian Arctic, and Alaska. In areas that are rich in peat, these fires can continue to burn on a year-round basis, affecting tens of thousands of square kilometres. In other areas, acceleration in the pace of spring melting of snow and ice has led to the repeated flooding of major rivers, and the water released as a result of thawing permafrost has caused the water-logging of soils, interfering with normal activities in many human communities. Rising temperatures have made it possible for destructive insects (for example, the spruce bark beetle) to survive winter conditions and to thrive in the new climate regime. One result is the dieback of sectors of the boreal forest stretching across the Arctic and Subarctic, encompassing thousands of square kilometres. The impacts of these consequences of climate change are by no means uniform. But taken together, they add more layers to the challenges of adapting to the impacts of climate change facing human communities in the Arctic.

One notable consequence of climate change in many parts of the Arctic is an accumulation of shifts in the distribution, abundance, and condition of populations of fish and game. Commercially important stocks of fish are moving to the north as in the case of pollock in the Bering Sea, to the north-east as in the case of cod in the Barents Sea, and to the west as in the case of mackerel in the Norwegian and Greenland Seas.Footnote 12 Species of wildlife that are important to subsistence harvesters, like marine mammals dependent on sea ice (such as polar bears and walrus) and terrestrial mammals subject to food shortages and insect infestations (like reindeer and caribou), are experiencing increased stresses that reduce their value to human users. There are bright spots in this picture. Cod stocks in the Barents Sea, for example, have held up well so far, despite the fact that the physical features of the Barents Sea ecosystem are changing rapidly. Nevertheless, the overall effect of these changes affecting fish and game is to make life for many Arctic residents riskier and more uncertain.

Of course, climate change is not the only type of change affecting the well-being of the Arctic’s human residents. As Arctic residents know well and as numerous analysts have documented in detail, social change has been a major feature of life in the Arctic for a long time.Footnote 13 Communities that were largely ‘off the grid’ in the not so distant past are now fully connected with the outside world through modern forms of transportation and advanced information and communication systems. Even so, the challenges of adapting to the impacts of climate change have intensified social change in the Arctic, making it increasingly difficult for individuals to flourish and maintain a sense of well-being in today’s world. Developments involving reductions in the relevance of traditional knowledge, shifts in gender roles, and increases in dependence on outside sources of support have all had the effect of eroding established ways of life without offering a straightforward or easily adoptable alternative. Under the circumstances, it is not surprising that there is an association between the onset of climate change and social problems including suicide among young people, substance abuse, and domestic violence in many Arctic communities.

These observations should suffice to make it clear that adaptation to the impacts of climate change in the Arctic, which are largely attributable to non-Arctic drivers, is a multi-dimensional challenge with no easy solutions. What works in one part of the Arctic may prove irrelevant or outside the bounds of the possible for one reason or another in other parts of the region. Clearly, there is no substitute for unified and energetic community responses to the challenge of adaptation. Reports from case after case show sharp differences between communities in which coherent community-wide efforts to tackle issues arising from the onset of climate change have arisen and others in which the challenge of adaptation has fed internal differences and intensified pathological behaviour on the part of individuals. But it is equally clear that it is inappropriate to leave Arctic victims of climate change to fend for themselves, scrambling to find workable responses on a community-by-community basis in the absence of external assistance. So far, debates about policy issues relating to climate change at the international, national, and even subnational levels have focused largely on issues of mitigation in contrast to adaptation. In the final analysis, of course, mitigation in the sense of finding ways to reduce (or even reverse) emissions of greenhouse gases is essential. But in areas like the Arctic where the impacts of climate change are upon us, there is no excuse for failing to devote greatly increased imagination, energy, and resources to addressing the challenge of adaptation. There is a lot to be learned in this regard from the experience of the Arctic where efforts to cope with the impacts of climate change are today’s realities rather than tomorrow’s worries.

13.4 Energy from the Arctic

The preceding discussion opens the way to a consideration of another paradoxical consequence of complex linkages involving climate change and the Arctic, a consequence that some regard as a type of adaptation to recent developments but that others see as a dramatic step in the wrong direction in terms of coming to terms with the global challenge of climate change. The point of departure here is the fact that the impacts of climate change on the Arctic have increased the accessibility of the region’s natural resources and made it easier and more cost-effective to deploy innovative methods of moving these resources to southern markets. The Arctic has significant deposits of numerous resources, including iron ore, lead, zinc, copper, gold, diamonds, uranium, and rare Earth elements. But the critical concern with regard to the role of the Arctic in climate change arises from the fact that the region has massive recoverable reserves of fossil fuels, as well.

There is nothing new about the attractions of Arctic oil and gas. In the 1980s, some two million barrels of oil pumped from fields located on Alaska’s North Slope flowed through the Trans-Alaska Pipeline each day. The North Slope also has a very large gas cap, although efforts to find ways to market this resource profitably have met with repeated failures. Norway is a petro-State, dependent upon the production of offshore oil and gas for its remarkable economic prosperity in recent decades. Starting with the development of fields located in the North Sea, Norwegian interest in the development of hydrocarbons under its jurisdiction has shifted northwards in recent times. Norway is now offering leases to companies interested in exploiting deposits of oil and gas in the Barents Sea.

The centre of attention regarding the exploitation of the Arctic’s oil and gas, however, lies in Russia. Even during the USSR era in the 1970s and 1980s, Russian developers extracted large quantities of natural gas from massive fields (for example, Urengoy and Yamburg) located in north-western Siberia, using some of the gas to fuel domestic industries and shipping sizable quantities via pipeline to consumers in western Europe. What is new in this regard is the opening of massive new reserves of natural gas further north on the Yamal and Gydan Peninsulas, the growing engagement of key private firms (such as Novatek) as well as state-owned firms (chiefly Gazprom and Rosneft) in the production of energy from the north, the development of technologies allowing for the shipment of liquified natural gas both eastward and westward in state-of-the-art tankers along the Northern Sea Route (NSR), and the participation of foreign enterprises such as France’s TotalEnergies and the China National Petroleum Company (CNPC) based in the People’s Republic of China (PRC) as key investors in the production and shipment of Russia’s Arctic natural gas.Footnote 14

With the completion of the new Port of Sabetta on Ob Bay and the delivery of the first of a fleet of Arc-7 liquified natural gas supertankers built by the Republic of Korea’s (ROK) Daewoo Shipbuilding and Marine Engineering Company, shipments of Yamal natural gas produced by Novatek got underway in 2018–2019. Making use of the NSR, it is now feasible to ship natural gas to consumers in Asia during the summer months and to consumers in Europe during the rest of the year. These markets are subject to many forces that make predictions about future trends difficult, including the impacts of the current Russian war in Ukraine. But there is no doubt that the extraction and shipment of Arctic natural gas has developed into a critical component of Russia’s economic strategy in the post-Soviet era and of Russia’s campaign to achieve international recognition of its role as a great power under conditions prevailing in the early twenty-first century. One knowledgeable Russian analyst observed in 2019 that ‘[t]his sector generates about [15] percent of Russia’s current GDP, and this share is projected to increase’.Footnote 15 Among other things, this means that Arctic gas is a critical contributor to the Russian government’s revenue stream. At present, the coalition between the country’s political leaders and its industrial leaders in support of the continued growth of this sector remains solid.

Novatek is presently hard at work adding to its capacity to produce natural gas on the Yamal and Gydan Peninsulas, with additional projects slated to come on stream during the 2020s, and Gazprom and Rosneft are exploring the scope of recoverable reserves of natural gas in adjacent areas of the Kara Sea. Reliable estimates now suggest that Russia’s Arctic reserves taken together are large enough to justify comparison with the massive reserves of the Middle East and the Gulf of Mexico. What is more, continued development of these reserves fits well with Russian plans for the growth of ship traffic using the NSR and dovetails with the PRC’s interests in raising its profile as a ‘near Arctic state’ and as a player to be taken seriously in thinking about the future of Arctic affairs. Russia’s interest in engaging in bilateral economic co-operation with the PRC grew rapidly in the wake of Russia’s 2014 annexation of Crimea and invasion of eastern Ukraine 2014, and the resultant imposition of sanctions on Russia by the United States and a number of European states. The 2022 invasion has likely accelerated this development. For its part, the PRC has created an investment mechanism known as the Arctic Silk Road Fund and taken steps to integrate its emerging interest in the development of Arctic resources into its comprehensive Belt and Road Initiative.Footnote 16 Whatever the consequences may be in the realm of climate change, geopolitical forces continue to stimulate both Russia’s commitment to the extraction of Arctic hydrocarbons and a willingness on the part of China and Russia to make common cause in exploiting the natural resources of the Arctic. Others, like the Japanese and the South Koreans, have demonstrated a willingness to become active players in this enterprise; even those European States that have taken the lead in efforts to promote decarbonization as a response to the problem of climate change have been unable to reduce the role of Russian natural gas in fuelling their economic systems. The current Russian War in Ukraine Russian may alter this picture significantly. So far, however, natural gas continues to flow from Russia to Europe, and European payments are helping to shore up the Russian economy.

The paradoxical nature of these developments is glaring. The Arctic plays a critical role in the Earth’s climate system, and the challenge of finding ways to adapt to the impacts of climate change is a matter of extreme urgency to Arctic communities. However, at the same time, the impacts of climate change have increased the accessibility of the Arctic’s natural resources; they have played a key role in making the production and shipment of energy from the North profitable. Russia is a signatory to the 2015 Paris Agreement and has promised to reduce its emissions of greenhouse gases by 30% from 1990 levels by 2030. As chair of the Arctic Council during the 2021–2023 biennium, Russia announced a commitment to the pursuit of sustainability and indicated that efforts to combat the problem of climate change constitute a significant priority in its Arctic policy.Footnote 17 A focus of particular interest appears to be an effort to alleviate negative impacts of climate change in the Russian Arctic. Yet there is a pronounced disconnect between the two domains. Work proceeds at a vigorous pace on efforts to expand the production and shipment of Arctic natural gas, even while the Russian leadership expresses concerns about the problem of climate change. It remains to be seen when and how policymakers will seek to come to terms with this contradiction.

The disconnect between economic development relying on the consumption of fossil fuels and the recognition of the role of the Arctic in climate change is not exclusive to Russian policymakers and analysts. It is a striking feature of numerous conferences and workshops on Arctic issues occurring in a variety of venues that participants are able to move directly from a session highlighting the onset of the climate emergency in graphic terms to another session focusing on the ins and outs of plans for the production and shipment of Arctic energy resources. What has emerged in this regard has the attributes of a dialogue of the deaf. Members of the two communities are perfectly civil to one another as they move from session to session and converse in the corridors of Arctic venues. But they do not hear one another when it comes to thinking through the implications of the discourses that underlie the development of their ideas. Apparently, one way to respond to paradoxical linkages in complex systems is to compartmentalize thinking in a manner that marginalizes the sources of the difficulties and makes the consequences invisible, at least in the short run.

13.5 The International Relations of Climate and the Arctic

Are there institutional arrangements available to address the paradoxical linkages associated with climate change and the Arctic? The Arctic lacks a comprehensive international regime similar to the Antarctic Treaty System under which the ‘Parties commit themselves to the comprehensive protection of the Antarctic environment … hereby designate Antarctica as a natural reserve, devoted to peace and science’ and adopt rules calling for the demilitarization of Antarctica and the prohibition of ‘[a]ny activity relating to mineral resources, other than scientific research’.Footnote 18 But this does not mean that there is a vacuum with regard to arrangements designed to respond to needs for governance relating to matters of importance to the Arctic. In the years since the close of the Cold War, in fact, the Arctic has emerged as a focus of attention among a sizable collection of players interested in promoting co-operative responses to an array of Arctic issues.

The most prominent element of the resultant complex of arrangements is the Arctic Council established under the terms of a 1996 ministerial declaration as a high level forum to ‘provide a means for promoting co-operation, co-ordination and interaction among the Arctic States, with the involvement of the Arctic indigenous communities and other Arctic inhabitants on common Arctic issues, in particular issues of sustainable development and environmental protection in the Arctic’.Footnote 19. In many respects, the council is a weak mechanism. It is grounded in the provisions of a ministerial declaration rather than an international legally binding instrument. The council has no authority to make binding decisions, although it has on several occasions provided a convenient venue for informal consultations on the content of provisions to be included in formal agreements. And the council lacks a source of material resources that would allow it to engage in programmatic activities that could make a significant difference with regard to matters like adaptation to the impacts of climate change in the Arctic.

Still, it would be a mistake to regard the council as ineffectual when it comes to responding to the issues relating to climate change and the Arctic discussed in the preceding sections of this chapter.Footnote 20 The Arctic Council’s working groups, which have established a reputation for producing scientifically sound products, are able to engage in activities involving monitoring and assessment to track the course of climate change in the Arctic and to document trends with regard to the onset of climate change in the high latitudes of the northern hemisphere. Because the council has strong links to diplomatic establishments (the Senior Arctic Officials are representatives of the foreign ministries of the member States), it is able to communicate findings relating to climate change and the Arctic to international bodies concerned with climate change like the Conference of the Parties of the UNFCCC and the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC). This has given rise to the idea that the council can play the role of what some analysts call an Arctic messenger, delivering news regarding the dramatic development of the impacts of climate change to audiences in a position to absorb the relevant information and to integrate it into their efforts to address the problem of climate change.Footnote 21 What is more, the council has a category of Observers, which has grown to include 38 non-Arctic states, intergovernmental organizations, and non-governmental organizations. Today, all the major emitters of greenhouse gases are either members of the council or Observers, and major intergovernmental bodies like the United Nations (UN) Development Programme, the UN Environment Programme, the International Maritime Organization, and the World Meteorological Organization are included in the ranks of intergovernmental observers. This provides the council with what may be thought of as convening power. While the council lacks the authority to make formal decisions, Arctic Council gatherings bring together representatives of most major actors concerned with climate change and provide them with opportunities to engage in off-the-record interactions about ways to address various aspects of the challenge of climate change.

What roles have these institutional mechanisms been able to play in dealing with the concerns discussed in the preceding sections of this chapter? In 1999, the Arctic Council acting in conjunction with the International Arctic Science Committee launched an initiative known as the Arctic Climate Impact Assessment (ACIA) that eventuated in a landmark report including a summary for policymakers delivered at the council’s 2004 Ministerial Meeting in Reykjavik, Iceland. ACIA explored the critical role of the Arctic in the Earth’s Climate System and assembled for the first time a body of clear evidence concerning critical feedback mechanisms and the role of the Arctic as ground zero regarding the impacts of climate change.Footnote 22 The Arctic States worked hard to communicate ACIA’s findings to global forums like the Conference of the Parties of the UNFCCC – indeed, several of the council’s working groups (such as the Arctic Monitoring and Assessment Programme, the Working Group on the Conservation of Arctic Flora and Fauna) have continued to track the accelerating impacts of climate change in the Arctic. This experience reflects both the strengths and the weaknesses of the Arctic Council in addressing climate change and the Arctic. There is general agreement that the compilation of evidence regarding the role of the Arctic in the Earth’s climate system and the proactive efforts of the council to play the role of the Arctic messenger in this domain have made a difference. But at the same time, the experience with ACIA and a series of follow-up reports documenting trends during the years from 2004 to the present makes it clear that the ability of the council to make a difference in this realm is limited to providing early warning regarding emerging concerns and assembling evidence for participants in other arenas to use in support of their efforts to forge agreement on stronger measures needed to come to grips with what is now widely seen as a global climate emergency.

Given the character of the challenges of adapting to the impacts of climate change, it may seem that the Arctic Council as a body dedicated to international co-operation and interaction among Arctic states regarding Arctic issues with the participation of Indigenous peoples and other Arctic residents would be an important mechanism for tackling this challenge. And several of the council’s working groups, including the Sustainable Development Working Group and the Working Group on the Protection of the Arctic Marine Environment, have taken an interest in issues associated with the impacts of climate change on Arctic communities and ecosystems. Nevertheless, several factors have limited the performance of the council in this realm. At the national and international levels, policymakers have devoted their attention largely to issues of mitigation in the sense of measures designed to reduce emissions of greenhouse gases in contrast to adaptation in the sense of finding ways to adjust to changes resulting from the impacts of climate change. Local variations in the impacts of climate change and in the feasibility of implementing various response strategies limit the ability of an international body like the Arctic Council to contribute effectively to crafting effective adaptation strategies. More specifically, successive chairmanships have imposed their own priorities on the agenda of the Sustainable Development Working Group, a situation that has made it difficult for this working group to engage in longer-term efforts to address questions involving adaptation strategies. Still, this does not mean that there is no role for the council to play in promoting successful adaptations to the impacts of climate change. Among other things, the council provides a venue in which key players concerned with adaptation can meet at regular intervals to engage in both on-the-record and off-the-record consultations about the merits of a variety of adaptation strategies and to launch joint initiatives to raise the profile of this concern on policy agendas inside and outside the Arctic.

Perhaps counterintuitively, the Arctic Council has not been able to play a significant role with regard to the paradoxical linkage underlying the region’s growing role as a source of hydrocarbons to fuel industrial systems. There are several reasons for this. As the prior discussion makes clear, the development of Arctic energy has assumed a critical role in the political economy of the Russian Federation. Unless and until this situation changes, it would be unrealistic to expect Russia to pay attention to the views of other members of the Arctic Council regarding the perils of aggressive measures to produce and ship Arctic hydrocarbons. What is more, the bilateral co-operation between Russia and the PRC in this realm fits comfortably into the approach to Arctic issues that the PRC favours as a non-Arctic State limited to observer status in the Arctic Council. Likewise, India, Japan, and the ROK, which are also Arctic Council Observer States, have interests in the development of Arctic hydrocarbons as a measure to provide assurance in the event of disruptions in the supply of hydrocarbons from other areas like the Middle East. It is possible that the Arctic Economic Council, a body that is formally independent but closely aligned with the Arctic Council, could play a constructive role in this realm. For example, the Arctic Economic Council has promoted the idea of an Arctic Investment Protocol, a measure intended to encourage the application of principles of responsible investment with regard to Arctic initiatives. But there is no doubt that the ability of the Arctic Council to make a difference regarding the exploitation of the Arctic’s reserves of fossil fuels is severely constrained.

At this juncture, the operation of the Arctic Council is suffering from the disruptive impacts of the war in Ukraine. In the immediate aftermath of the 2022 Russian invasion, the western members of the council suspended their participation in the activities of the council.Footnote 23 The effect was to produce a halt in the operation of the council, including in the activities of its various working groups. As the war has dragged on, it has become increasingly clear that this situation is untenable. The Arctic itself remains a zone of low tension. Addressing key issues, including climate change as a prominent example, requires communication and collaboration on a circumpolar basis. Under the circumstances, interest is rising in working out what the members have described as ‘necessary modalities’ for resuming the work of the council in a number of areas. As of the time of writing (June 2022), however, the way forward remains unclear. In this regard, the political convulsions triggered by the war in Ukraine have cast a shadow over efforts to deal with the roles of the Arctic in climate change as they have over many other efforts to come to terms with the climate emergency in international settings.

13.6 Managing Paradoxical Linkages in Complex Systems

There is nothing unusual about the occurrence of paradoxical linkages in the world of complex systems of the sort under consideration in this chapter.Footnote 24 Hyperconnectivity, including what analysts of complex systems call telecoupling, is a prominent feature of such systems. The facts that greenhouse gases emitted in the mid-latitudes produce dramatic consequences in the high latitudes and that the impacts of climate change in the Arctic trigger feedback mechanisms whose consequences are felt on a global scale are entirely compatible with the behaviour of a complex system like the Earth’s climate system. Similarly, non-linear changes are regular occurrences in complex systems. An important case in point regarding climate change and the Arctic centres on the transition between circumstances in which it is possible to protect communities from the effects of climate change and situations in which there is no realistic option other than the wholesale relocation of communities. Another centres on the prospect that temperature increases attributable to activities in the mid-latitudes may trigger large-scale releases of carbon dioxide and methane now locked in permafrost and methane clathrates. In effect, such systems generate critical transitions that are known to occur from time to time but whose actual occurrence generally takes people by surprise because these events involve a form of complex causation that is difficult – often impossible – to grasp in a manner that allows for meaningful prediction.Footnote 25

Are there insights from the case of climate change and the Arctic that will command the attention of those who have a more general interest in managing paradoxical linkages in complex systems? Many – perhaps most – people are fearful of critical transitions or bifurcations, especially when they involve non-linear and surprising shifts for which those affected are unprepared. As a result, they are apt to make heroic efforts to shore up existing systems and to ward off dramatic state changes in these systems, even when the performance of the systems leaves a lot to be desired in terms of a broad range of evaluative criteria. Undoubtedly, this is a major source of the fashionable interest today in the idea of resilience construed as the ability of a system to adjust its internal workings to address a range of pressures or threats without experiencing major changes in its defining features or attributes.Footnote 26 Resilience, on this account, is a good thing – policymakers are well advised to study the determinants of resilience and to invest both political capital and material resources in actions aimed at enhancing the resilience of biophysical, socioeconomic, and what are now often described as socioecological systems.

Thinking about climate change and the Arctic, however, raises questions about the adoption of this line of thinking as a dominant perspective in a world of complex systems. For one thing, as the discussion of the role of the Arctic in the Earth’s climate system makes clear, there are many settings in which critical transitions will occur from time to time, although it is impossible to predict when they will occur with any precision and to anticipate the nature of the chain reactions that will unfold once key thresholds are breached. What is more, the performance of many systems leaves a great deal to be desired, even though those who occupy privileged positions in existing systems can be expected to make every effort to defend or shore up these systems in the interests of maintaining their positions. Conditions prevailing in many Arctic communities are anything but ideal. While it is extremely difficult to generate consensus regarding the choices involved in relocating a community in response to the impacts of climate change, there are cases in which a new start made possible in the course of relocation can provide an opportunity to address a sizable range of problems in a constructive manner. And there are cases in which key features of prevailing systems are part of the problem rather than part of the solution when it comes to dealing with systemic challenges like climate change. The paradoxical linkages underlying growth in the production and shipment of the Arctic’s hydrocarbons, for example, have the effect of reinforcing a system that must give way to some more appropriate alternative in order to come to terms with the challenge of climate change. It is hard to defend initiatives aimed at increasing the resilience of this system in a setting in which finding ways to come to terms with the climate emergency has emerged as one of the twenty-first century’s grand challenges of planetary governance.Footnote 27

What are the policy implications of this line of thinking? Needless to say, it makes sense to monitor complex systems closely to identify tipping elements and to evaluate whether they are approaching thresholds where the probability that critical transitions will occur increases. But it is unrealistic to expect that we can acquire the capacity to forecast the occurrence of bifurcations with any confidence. What this means is that we need to create systems that are agile in the sense that they have the capacity to act quickly and decisively take advantage of windows of opportunity that arise when non-linear processes destabilize entrenched arrangements and make it possible to introduce major changes that would be impossible under normal conditions.Footnote 28 Just as there is an important distinction between what Kahneman and others have called thinking fast and slow, there may well be a similar distinction between acting fast and slow.Footnote 29

With regard to climate change and the Arctic this means developing systems that can respond promptly to the collapse of sea ice, growing indications of instability in the Greenland ice sheet, and increased releases of carbon dioxide and methane from thawing permafrost. It also means putting in place mechanisms that are capable of taking decisive action once it becomes clear that there is no alternative to relocating Arctic communities in the face of the growing impacts of climate change. Developing a capacity to act fast is difficult in human systems featuring a multiplicity of players with divergent interests and the existence of numerous institutional checks and balances that serve to slow down processes of making and implementing social choices. But finding ways to enhance this capacity without falling into the trap of authoritarianism may turn out to be the key to success in a world in which paradoxical linkages in complex systems constitute a central feature of the policy landscape.

14 The European Union’s Carbon Border Adjustment Mechanism as a (Generally Lawful) Countermeasure

14.1 Introduction

In order to implement the European Green Deal, in 2019 the European Union (EU) foresaw the adoption of carbon border adjustment measures (CBAMs) as a key instrument to level differences with carbon pricing schemes other than the EU Emission Trading System (ETS).Footnote 1 These are now becoming a reality via legislative measures included in the ‘Fit for 55’ package.Footnote 2

The lawfulness and impact of CBAMs is debated and, despite a delayed application, just foreshadowing their adoption has triggered doctrinal confrontation.Footnote 3 CBAMs are usually seen as ‘corrective mechanisms’, essentially as a means to level the cross-border playing field for trade and prevent carbon leakage.Footnote 4 Taking into account the distinction between ‘primary’ and ‘secondary’ norms,Footnote 5 CBAMs are usually considered within the framework of primary rules under international law, even though their ‘defensive’ and ‘punitive’ purpose is sometimes mentioned.Footnote 6 This contribution proposes the alternative view that CBAMs should rather be construed through the lens of secondary international norms. More precisely, the idea is that CBAMs could be framed as international countermeasures taken in response to the breach of a primary obligation, with specific regard to environmental duties, and should thus be justified in derogation from the obligation to ensure free trade (and investment). This approach helps to assess the relationship between economic and environmental regulation under the concept of sustainable development. Arguably, seeing CBAMs as countermeasures provides a lens to assess their viability with respect to the international trade regime, with particular regard to international economic agreements.

The analysis proceeds in two parts. The first part of the contribution presents CBAMs, notably as envisaged by the EU in the European Green Deal and the Fit for 55 Package. This part of the chapter further illustrates problems of consistency raised by CBAMs with respect to general international economic law, on the one hand, and the General Agreement on Tariffs and Trade (GATT) and the General Agreement on Trade in Services (GATS), on the other, via the national treatment principle as a test case. The second part of the contribution assesses CBAMs from the perspective of countermeasures under international law. In the light of this premise, the research considers whether obligations under the United Nations Framework Convention on Climate Change (UNFCCC) can be universalised beyond the relative effectiveness of treaties, and consequently whether States and international organisations can apply CBAMs on an erga omnes contractantes scale under the GATT and the GATS.

14.2 The Debate on the International Legality of Carbon Border Adjustment Measures
14.2.1 Carbon Border Adjustment Measures in the European Green Deal, the Fit for 55 Package and Other Carbon Border Adjustments

As announced in the European Green Deal, in March 2021 the European Parliament passed a resolution invoking the introduction of a CBAM compliant with World Trade Organisation stipulations and EU free trade agreement (FTA) norms, paralleling the EU ETS, in order to implement UFCCC obligations.Footnote 7 According to the European Commission, the EU CBAM would apply to the power sector and energy-intensive industrial sectors to reduce the risk of carbon leakage, ensuring that the price of imports reflects accurately their carbon content.Footnote 8 The measure needs to comply with WTO rules and EU FTAs.Footnote 9

On 14 July 2021, the EU adopted the ‘Fit for 55 Package’, aiming to curb greenhouse gas emissions by 55% by 2030, through a mix of instruments, including the ETS, renewable energy, energy taxation, land use, emissions from aviation, cars and ships, and the CBAM.Footnote 10 Within the context of the revision of relevant policy instruments in the EU under the package, the CBAM is essential to meeting the objective of climate neutrality by 2050, in line with the Paris Agreement. It intends to level divergences with carbon pricing schemes and climate policies in third-party countries: when foreign policies do not include measures equivalent to the EU ETS, an EU importer is compelled to buy CBAM certificates to cover green differences in production costs.Footnote 11 The measure is grounded in article 192(1) of the Treaty on the Functioning of the European Union (TFEU), which provides that, in consultation with the Economic and Social Committee and the Committee of the Regions, the European Parliament and the Council may decide on action to implement the objectives under TEFU article 191, aiming to preserve, protect and improve the quality of the environment, and promoting international measures to combat climate change. The CBAM indeed aims to level the economic field for carbon pricing in the EU internal market as compared to imported products. Building on Regulation 2018/1999,Footnote 12 which establishes that EU Member States adopt national measures within the context of a national energy and climate plan (article 3) and report on implementation to the European Commission every two years (article 17), EU organs have now outlined the details of the CBAM mechanism via the Proposal for Regulation 2021/0214,Footnote 13 on which the Council and the Parliament reached a political agreement on 12 December 2022, leading to the adoption of Regulation 2023/956 on the implementation of CBAMs.Footnote 14

Concerning the scope of application of the CBAM, Regulation 2023/956 applies to energy-intensive products at risk of carbon leakage, including imports of electricity, cement, aluminium, fertiliser, as well as iron and steel products – that is, sectors that are at high risk of carbon leakage (recitals 31–40). Reportedly, Russia is the largest exporter of CBAM products to the EU, followed by Turkey, the United Kingdom (UK) and the People’s Republic of China (PRC).Footnote 15 See Figure 14.1.

Figure 14.1 Exporters of CBAM products to the EU

(source: A Dumitru, B Kölb, M. Wiffelaars, The Carbon Border Adjustment Mechanism Explained. www.rabobank.com/knowledge/d011297275-the-carbon-border-adjustment-mechanism-explained).

Under article 3, Regulation 2023/956 is only concerned with direct greenhouse gas emissions, that is, essentially emissions of carbon dioxide (CO2), nitrous oxide (N2O) and perfluorocarbons (PFCs), arising from the production processes of goods directly controlled by the producer. The proposal does not encompass indirect emissions, that is, emissions arising from the production of electricity, heating and cooling consumed during processes towards the production of goods. The production process encompasses chemical and physical activities from the time of production in an installation to that of import into the territory of the Union (article 3 and recital 19). According to article 36, the CBAM will be implemented in 2026 and, in line with recital 57, free allowances will be phased out between 2026 and 2035, following a transition period of three years, starting on 1 October 2023, which is only concerned with data collection. While this is the scope of the measure currently envisaged by the EU, the Commission has the power to extend it so as to encompass, for instance, indirect future greenhouse gas emissions (article 30).

From the standpoint of the procedure, in principle, EU importers of non-EU products must pay a levy, with the exception of markets linked to the EU, particularly the members of the European Free Trade Association (EFTA). According to article 5, prior to importing energy-intensive goods, any importer shall apply to the competent authorities designated by Member States (article 11) for an authorisation to introduce goods into the customs territory of the Union. Furthermore, under article 6, any authorised importer shall submit a yearly CBAM declaration specifying the quantity of imported goods, embedded emissions and the corresponding CBAM certificates to be submitted. Embedded emissions are calculated based on procedures to be spelled out in annex III (article 7) and verified by an accredited organisation (article 8), withholding carbon price paid in the country of origin. Under articles 18–21, the competent authority sells CBAM certificates based on the price of ETS allowances and may review a CBAM declaration within four years, following the year when the declaration is, or should have been, submitted. The importer must surrender to the competent authority a number of CBAM certificates corresponding to declared emissions (article 22). Enforcement takes place via customs authorities, which cannot allow the importation of goods that are not authorised by the competent authority (article 25). The emission declaration and verification process provides that national authorities verify allowances surrendered by companies and apply a levy in case there is a difference between the foreign and domestic allowances surrendered. The European Commission oversees the implementation of the CBAM mechanism, including products that do not have ‘sufficient due cause’ or ‘economic justification’ other than avoiding obligations under Regulation 2023/956 (article 27).

The EU is not the only sovereign entity that is working on carbon border adjustments. A similar mechanism is already in place, for instance, in the electricity market in California.Footnote 16 Furthermore, Canada, Japan and the United States are considering the possibility of adopting equivalent measures.Footnote 17 Although they are inspired by the same aim of levelling the international economic playing field, carbon adjustment mechanisms are not identically designed (see Figure 14.2). For instance, under the so-called Coons–Peter Bill,Footnote 18 like the EU CBAM the U.S. Border Carbon Adjustment (BCA) covers steel, aluminium, cement and iron. However, unlike the EU CBAM, the U.S. BCA does not cover fertiliser, includes ‘fuel’ in the notion of a ‘good’ and encompasses any relevant product identified by the Secretary of the Treasury and any product which has a composition greater than 8.5% consisting of steel, aluminium, cement or iron (article 9901, subsections (7) and (15)). For the purpose of the BCA, the cost of greenhouse gas emissions is calculated based on the average sector cost incurred by companies in the United States (article 9902). The implementing procedure is also only generally defined by providing that, in consultation with the Administrator of the Environmental Protection Agency, the United States Trade Representative and the Secretary of Homeland Security, the Secretary of the Treasury is able to prescribe regulations and guidance to implement BCAs (article 9905(a)). Scholars consider that, while the EU CBAM is mostly grounded in an economic rationale, the U.S. BCA is mostly underpinned by an environmental objective.Footnote 19 The U.S. BCA is based on the green standard of State environmental policies, which entails improved environmental aims but whose determination entails a margin of discretion and arbitrariness.Footnote 20 The EU CBAM is based on the green standard of single products, which is theoretically more precise, but becomes in practice complex, inter alia, in the light of the number of steps involved in the production chain.Footnote 21

Figure 14.2 Summary map of regional, national, and subnational carbon pricing initiatives.

Source: Figure reproduced from Bruegel’s blog post written by André Sapir, www.bruegel.org/blog-post/european-unions-carbon-border-mechanism-and-wto.
14.2.2 Carbon Border Adjustment Measures, General International Law and the World Trade Organisation Framework: Particularly the National Treatment Principle

International economic law stands on the tenet of non-discrimination, which provides a basis for the most-favoured-nation (MFN) treatment and national treatment principles.Footnote 22 This is confirmed in article 3(5) of the UNFCCC, on ‘Principles’, which provides that the parties should ‘cooperate to promote an enabling and open international economic system that will facilitate sustainable economic growth and development’, with ‘measures taken to combat climate change, including unilateral measures … not [to] be used as a means of arbitrary or unjustified discrimination or covert restrictions on international trade’. Within this framework, the CBAM is a duty on imports that aims to level the cross-border economic field with respect to internal duties imposed on domestic products,Footnote 23 and thus arguably the most relevant regulation is the national treatment principle. Indeed, this principle establishes that domestic and imported products cannot be subject to different internal taxes. In the light of article 38 of the Statute of the International Court of Justice (ICJ), the international lawfulness of CBAMs must be assessed, on the one hand, under general international law, and, on the other, under international economic agreements.

As concerns general international law, it is understood that customary economic law only embeds a few fundamental principles, including State immunity, ‘minimum standards’ for the treatment of foreign nationals and diplomatic protection.Footnote 24 General principles of economic law are limited to obligations such as the duty to make reparations for injury and State succession to credits and debts.Footnote 25 As such, fundamental tenets that are relevant to the lawfulness of CBAMs, particularly the national treatment principle, do not form part of general international obligations.Footnote 26 On this basis, as there is no specific general duty for States to guarantee an economic playing field, it can be concluded that CBAMs are lawful from the standpoint of primary and general international obligations.

International economic agreements, spanning WTO treaties, regional economic agreements, such as the Treaty on European Union and the TFEU, and bilateral agreements such as the EU–Australia FTA, embed key principles of international economic law, particularly the MFN treatment principle and the national treatment principle. Within the framework of the WTO, the lawfulness of CBAMs is particularly relevant to the GATT.Footnote 27 Indeed, CBAMs apply to imports of goods and the GATT is the most general agreement governing the matter. In this regard, scholars underscore that the lawfulness of CBAMs is problematic in several respects. For instance, it has been noted that, by determining the extent and quality of the climate policy of other WTO Members and choosing which imported products are subject to emission certificates and to what extent, the EU would discriminate between ‘like’ products, in breach of the MFN principle under GATT article I.Footnote 28 For the purpose of the present analysis, it is sufficient to consider as a test case that, as they are levies on imports, CBAMs are particularly relevant to the basic tenet of the national treatment principle under GATT article III.Footnote 29

The CBAM requirement to annually purchase and surrender certificates is a normative measure that affects the internal sale of imported products and matches the obligation of EU companies to purchase greenhouse gas allowances under the EU ETS. As such, while a case-by-case assessment must be carried out to determine the lawfulness of a CBAM, the measure is in principle allowed, to the extent that it fulfils a genuine non-protectionist purpose with respect to the national treatment principle (GATT article III(1)). This requirement seems to be particularly fulfilled in the light of the environmental aim of CBAMs pursued by the EU under the UNFCCC regime. Indeed, derogations from the principle of free trade may be permitted for environmental purposes as general exceptions under GATT article XX, based on the jurisprudence of the WTO.Footnote 30 The WTO dispute settlement bodies have in fact interpreted extensively the possibility of adopting derogatory measures to protect ‘human, animal or plant life or health’ (article XX(g)) or relating to ‘the conservation of exhaustible natural resources’ (article XX(g)).Footnote 31

Notably, in U.S. – Shrimp, the WTO’s judicial organs did not absolutely exclude the possibility of an exception to free trade based on the environment under GATT Article XX(g), subject to engagement in negotiations to achieve an environmental agreement.Footnote 32 On this basis, in U.S. – Taxes on Automobiles, a WTO Panel did not in principle exclude that environmental protection under GATT article XX(g) might justify a different calculation of average fuel economy for imported and manufactured cars.Footnote 33 In U.S. – Standards for Reformulated and Conventional Gasoline, the WTO Appellate Body considered the U.S. Clean Air Act Amendments of 1990,Footnote 34 requiring different specifications for domestically produced and imported gasoline, covered by environmental exceptions under GATT article XX(g).Footnote 35 In Brazil – Tyres, the WTO Appellate Body confirmed the viability of environmental exceptions under GATT article XX.Footnote 36

Furthermore, a charge is allowed on ‘like’ products, provided it is not ‘disproportionate’ (GATT article III(2)). The requisite of proportionality seems to be fulfilled by CBAMs in the light of the calculations envisaged under article 7 and verified in accordance with article 8 of Regulation 2023/956. This should also ensure that imported products be accorded treatment no less favourable than that accorded to like products of national origin with respect to laws, regulations and requirements affecting internal sale, offering for sale, purchase, transportation, distribution or use, according to GATT article III(5). As concerns the notion of ‘likeness’, it is fundamentally considered that products are ‘like’ when they satisfy the same aims from the standpoint of the consumer, that is, when they are ‘directly competitive or substitutable’.Footnote 37 It is clear that Regulation 2023/956 seeks to fulfil the requirement of ‘likeness’, as underscored in recital 27, particularly as CBAMs apply to goods listed under specific annexes, consistent with article 6.Footnote 38 However, scholars have underscored that the EU CBAM might be inconsistent with the principle of ‘likeness’, as, under the ‘disparate impact’ test, it would affect the ratio of imported goods more than domestic goods.Footnote 39

For a proper implementation of CBAMs, it is also important to consider whether energy, particularly electricity mentioned in recital 40 of the Regulation 2023/956, qualifies as a good or a service. In Re Erving Industries, the U.S. District Court for Massachusetts held that electricity is measurable and identifiable, as it passes through a customer’s meter, and is thus a ‘good’.Footnote 40 Conversely, in PMC Marketing Corporation, the U.S. District Court for Puerto Rico considered that electricity is a movable and identifiable ‘service’ provided by a business company affording a public utility.Footnote 41 If so, import of electricity into the EU should be governed by the GATS, rather than the GATT. In this case, the national treatment principle applies under article XVII, which provides that, with regard to all measures affecting service supply, the EU and its Member States should accord to services and service suppliers from any other GATS Member treatment no less favourable than that they accord to their own like services and service suppliers. However, exceptions to free trade in services are allowed under article XIV for scheduled sectors and under conditions defined by States via specific schedules according to article XVI(1).

14.3 Carbon Border Adjustment Measures as Countermeasures
14.3.1 Countermeasures and Carbon Border Adjustment Measures as a Response to a Breach of the Obligation to Stabilise Greenhouse Gas Emissions under International Economic Agreements, Particularly the General Agreement on Tariffs and Trade and the General Agreement on Trade in Services

CBAMs have been dealt with in the literature as ‘adjustment mechanisms’.Footnote 42 While reference is usually not made to CBAMs as ‘countermeasures’, some scholars have approached the question as to whether CBAMs may attract retaliation from foreign countries.Footnote 43 Others have referred to climate ‘countermeasures’ as a general set of policy measures, not as a specific mechanism of reaction to the breach of a primary obligation under international law.Footnote 44 It is therefore interesting to consider whether CBAMs can, or should, be considered countermeasures under international law and whether their legality can be understood within this context.

The Draft Articles on State Responsibility (DASR) and the Draft Articles on the Responsibility of International Organisations (DARIO) define countermeasures under multiple provisions in part 1 (on the ‘Internationally Wrongful Act of a State’), chapter 5 (on ‘Circumstance Precluding Wrongfulness’) and in part 3, chapter II (on ‘Countermeasures’). In part 1, article 22 (on ‘Countermeasures in respect of an Internationally Wrongful Act’) establishes that ‘the wrongfulness of an act of a State not in conformity with an international obligation towards another State is precluded if and to the extent that the act constitutes a countermeasure taken against the latter State in accordance with chapter II of part 3’. As acting in countermeasure is a ‘circumstance precluding wrongfulness’ (part 1, chapter V), conduct (positive or negative) that is not in conformity with a primary international obligation becomes lawful if it is taken in response to the breach of a primary obligation.

According to DASR and DARIO article 49 (on the ‘Object and Limits of Countermeasures’), ‘[a]n injured State may only take countermeasures against a State which is responsible for an internationally wrongful act’ to ‘induce that State to comply’ with its primary obligations. In order to be permissible, countermeasures must ‘be limited to the non-performance for the time being of international obligations of the State taking the measures towards the responsible State’ (article 49(2)). Furthermore, countermeasures ‘shall, as far as possible, be taken in such a way as to permit the resumption of performance of the obligations breached’ (article 45(3)).

As there is no specific obligation of non-discrimination under general international economic law, CBAMs should be allowed on a general scale, outside the framework of specific economic agreements. In this context, they do not specifically qualify as ‘countermeasures’, as they are not taken in response to the breach of a primary obligation. They can, for instance, be lawfully taken against those States that are not parties to the WTO for protectionist purposes. If they are adopted as a measure to compel green conduct, they must be considered unfriendly retaliatory measures. Naturally, the adoption of CBAMs remains subject to the respect of existing international conventions, particularly the UNFCCC. Thus, a State party to the convention should undertake dispute settlement procedures, starting with negotiations, under the UNFCCC, notably, under article 14, prior to adopting CBAMs.

Within the context of international economic agreements, particularly the GATT and GATS, CBAMs are measures that derogate from the fundamental obligation to ensure free trade. Even when they are in principle justified under GATT article XX and GATS article XVII, CBAMs run the risk of breaching a complex regulatory framework, starting with the problem of their precise definition.Footnote 45 As we have seen,Footnote 46 while the EU is definitely doing its best to shape CBAMs so as to respect WTO norms, the complexity of the regulation and practical factors such as production processes make it extremely difficult to shape CBAMs that are perfectly compliant with the national treatment principle in all its aspects.Footnote 47 This is particularly demonstrated by the interpretation of the concept of ‘likeness’ in the light of the ‘disparate impact’ test. The complexity is such that, rather than thinking about designing a WTO-compatible CBAM, some scholars reverse the approach and support a reform of the WTO system including environmental and climatic sustainability, envisaging the possibility of CBAMs and BCAs.Footnote 48 However, under the current system, as the rationale for CBAMs is remedying a competitive distortion created by States that do not adopt adequate carbon pricing schemes, they may fall under DASR and DARIO article 49 as countermeasures taken against a State which is responsible for an internationally wrongful act’ to ‘induce that State to comply’ with its primary obligations. In other words, if GATT or GATS State α does not comply with its primary obligation to curb greenhouse gas emissions, GATT or GATS State β should be allowed to adopt CBAMs in countermeasure, even in breach of the national treatment principle as a primary obligation: the breach of the national treatment duty would be legalised by the fact that CBAMs are adopted as countermeasures in response to the breach of the duty to curb greenhouse gas emissions.

Primary obligations breached are in this case asymmetric, as, while State α is in breach of an environmental obligation, the CBAM adopted by State β is in breach of the duty of non-discrimination in economic relations embedded in the national treatment principle, which is why it is particularly difficult to calibrate CBAMs in terms of proportionality with respect, for instance, to the ‘disparate impact’ test. Certainly, once it is established that CBAMs are lawful as countermeasures, they could still be contested (by State α) as concerns their necessity and proportionality. However, the burden of proof would shift from State β – that is, the EU and its Member States as those adopting the CBAM – to State α as the State not adequately implementing carbon pricing and greenhouse gas targets. If State α was able to demonstrate that the CBAM were not necessary and proportionate, it could claim compensation to recalibrate economic relations. However, this would not be an easy task and would not fundamentally exclude the lawfulness of CBAMs per se, which would remain legal.

The question is therefore identifying the primary obligation, or obligations, breached by States that do not adopt climate measures comparable with those adopted, notably, by the EU and its Member States. According to the principle of systemic integration between different international regulatory regimes, under article 31 of the Vienna Convention on the Law of Treaties (VCLT) and the Vienna Convention on the Law of Treaties between States and International Organisations or between International Organisations (VCLTIO),Footnote 49 relevant primary obligations should be found in the UNFCCC regime. In particular, UNFCCC article 4 establishes for States an obligation to stabilise greenhouse gas emissions in the atmosphere at a level that would prevent dangerous interference with the climate system. Article 2 of the Paris Agreement further spells out the duty as an obligation to contain temperature increase within 2°C, and possibly 1.5°C. The binding nature of these obligations has been discussed, in the light of the terminology of such norms and the difficulty of defining precise standards of conduct.Footnote 50 In principle, however, there is enough consensus that the UNFCCC and the Paris Agreement establish at least a duty to make all available efforts to prevent carbon emissions.Footnote 51 It could therefore be argued that the EU can impose CBAMs on States that do not implement all possible efforts to adopt adequate carbon reduction measures, and are thus in breach of their duty to prevent carbon emissions under the UNFCCC system.

14.3.2 Stabilising Greenhouse Gas Emissions: An Obligation of Conduct or Result?

When can CBAMs be adopted? The time for the adoption of CBAMs depends largely on their nature as obligations of conduct or result. It is, indeed, unclear whether UNFCCC article 4(2), which regulates mitigation policies, establishes a duty of conduct or one of result. While obligations of conduct only require best efforts to achieve the objective, those of result necessitate the achievement of a specific objective, that is, a maximum increase in average temperature of 2°C or 1.5°C. Naturally, if the obligation to curb greenhouse gas emissions is one of result, the fact that a State does not adopt climate policies and carbon pricing schemes adequate to achieve the objective would allow another State to adopt proportionate CBAMs in countermeasure as a reaction based on measurable data.

Guideline 3 of the International Law Commission’s Draft Articles on the Protection of the Atmosphere provides that the State obligation not to cause transboundary pollution is an obligation of due diligence in taking appropriate measures.Footnote 52 It has therefore been noted that the obligation does not establish clear parameters for compliance.Footnote 53 Along these lines, as concerns the obligation to curb greenhouse gas emissions, it is considered that the UNFCCC and the Paris Agreement establish an open-ended obligation of conduct, which can be subsequently specified by the Parties via nationally determined contributions (NDCs) as an obligation of result.Footnote 54 In the light of the categorisation developed by Wolfrum, the obligation to curb greenhouse gas emissions could be classified as a goal-oriented duty to achieve Paris Agreement targets in a distant future.Footnote 55 Indeed, article 2 of the Paris Agreement establishes as its ‘ultimate objective’ the stabilisation of greenhouse gases at a level that prevents dangerous interference with the climate system.Footnote 56 Furthermore, UNFCCC article 4(2)(a) requires the parties to that convention to adopt adequate policies for ‘longer-term trends in anthropogenic emissions’, consistent with the objective of sustainability.Footnote 57

In any case, even assuming that the obligation to curb greenhouse gas emissions is one of conduct, scholars underscore that such an obligation remains all the same quite effective and can be even more compelling when followed by adequate sanctions, via the effective monitoring of available means of compliance.Footnote 58 Thus, the fact that a State does not adopt adequate mitigation measures and carbon pricing schemes would in any case be measurable against Paris Agreement targets based on available means – while the assessment would be more complex, it would remain possible, triggering CBAMs in countermeasure.

14.3.3 Relative or General Environmental Obligations: Carbon Border Adjustment Measures as General Agreement on Tariffs and Trade and General Agreement on Trade in Services Erga Omnes Contractantes Countermeasures

Obligations to address climate change arise from treaties. The reference is currently provided by the UNFCCC and the Paris Agreement, particularly articles 4 and 2, respectively. According to a relativist approach, the duty to curb carbon emissions remains a specific obligation within the context of interstate conventional obligations, as codified in VCLT and VCLTIO article 34. Within this paradigm, the EU could adopt CBAMs vis-à-vis other States and international organisations that are parties not only to the GATT and GATS, but also to the UNFCCC and the Paris Agreement. As these have quasi-universal application, essentially, this means that the EU and its Member States may adopt CBAMs vis-à-vis all GATT and GATS (erga omnes contractantes) States that are not in compliance with the obligation to curb carbon emissions. However, there have been States that have at times withdrawn from the UNFCCC Protocols, such the United States under the Trump administration. With regard to such a case, that is, that of a State party to the GATT and GATTS, but not to the UNFCCC Protocols, the EU could not adopt CBAMs in countermeasure, save entering negotiations and outlining an agreed greenhouse gas reduction standard. Alternatively, based on quasi-universal participation in the UNFCCC and the Paris Agreement and support by civil society,Footnote 59 the obligation to curb carbon emissions could be approached as a universal one under general international law. Within this framework, the obligation could be further seen as an erga omnes duty and even a peremptory norm.Footnote 60 This would entail that the EU and its Member States may adopt CBAMs vis-à-vis all GATT and GATS States that are not in compliance with the obligation to curb carbon emissions. If the EU and its Member States intend to further impose a standard for climate policies and carbon pricing that is higher than the standard established under the UNFCCC regime, they should enter into negotiations with the concerned State or States bilaterally or multilaterally.

By broadening the analysis to other environmental obligations, a State party to the GATT and GATS could adopt CBAMs vis-à-vis all other GATT and GATS States, that is, erga omnes contractantes, by invoking the no-harm rule and sustainable development as an essential component. The ‘no harm’ rule was first outlined in the Trail Smelter arbitration as an obligation to compensate for transboundary harm.Footnote 61 It has been subsequently confirmed in cases such as Lac Lanoux,Footnote 62 and is codified in articles 3–4 of the International Law Commission’s 2001 Draft Articles on Transboundary Harm from Hazardous Activities,Footnote 63 as well as in principle 21 of the 1972 Stockholm Declaration on the Human Environment.Footnote 64 The no-harm rule is currently considered a customary norm under general international law. Indeed, in its advisory opinion in Legality of the Threat or Use of Nuclear Weapons, the ICJ determined that there is a ‘general obligation of States to ensure that activities within their jurisdiction and control respect the environment of other States or of areas beyond national control’, which ‘is now part of the corpus of international law relating to the environment’.Footnote 65 Arguably, it is also the case that the principle of sustainable development, as part of the no-harm rule, constitutes a general obligation under international law.Footnote 66 Inadequate climate policies and carbon pricing schemes could therefore be invoked by the EU and its Members States as a breach of the no-harm rule to adopt CBAMs erga omnes contractantes within the WTO, particularly under the GATT and GATS (Figure 14.3).

Figure 14.3 WTO, obligation to curb GHG emissions and carbon border adjustment measures.

14.4 Conclusion

The EU’s attempt to establish its CBAM to level differences between carbon pricing schemes and to implement adequate climate policies has raised a debate on the lawfulness of such mechanisms under international economic law. Under general international law, there is no obligation of non-discrimination in economic relations, and thus the national treatment and MFN principles do not apply. The EU and its Member States are therefore free to adopt CBAMs vis-à-vis third-party countries that are not parties to the WTO or other international economic agreements grounded in the principle of non-discrimination. Within this framework, CBAMs can be adopted for any purpose, be it economic protectionism rather than environmental protection, in which case they will qualify as retaliatory measures. Naturally, CBAMs must be adopted within the limits of existing treaty obligations (lex specialis derogat legi generali).

Under particular economic agreements, seeing CBAMs as countermeasures allows decisive insights to demonstrate their lawfulness. Considering the key example of the national treatment principle under the GATT and the GATS, arguably the EU and its Member States are currently allowed to adopt CBAMs in breach of the national treatment principle as a secondary lawful response to the breach of the primary obligation by a third-party State to curb greenhouse gas emissions. This establishes the fundamental lawfulness of CBAMs and shifts the burden of proving the absence of necessity and proportionality to the third-party State, overcoming the difficulty of shaping a perfect CBAM respectful of complex rules such as the ‘likeness’ requirement interpreted in the light of the ‘disparate impact’ test. Vis-à-vis third-party States that are members of the GATT, GATS and parties to the UNFCCC regime, the EU and its Member States can invoke the breach of the primary obligation to curb greenhouse gas emissions. As regards third-party GATT and GATS States that might not be parties to the UNFCCC regime, the EU and its Member States can invoke the no-harm rule as a general obligation, that is, an erga omnes right and duty, under customary international law.

15 Corporate Self-Regulation and the Climate: The Legal Trajectory of Sustainability Due Diligence in the European Union

15.1 Introduction

The business sector has a well-recognised role to play in achieving the development goals of the United Nations’ (UN) 2030 Agenda, in a ‘fair transition’Footnote 1 to a green economy (EU Green Deal), and in the system for the protection of human rights (via the UN Guiding Principles on Business and Human Rights; UNGPs).Footnote 2 The aim of this chapter is to examine the transformation of the notion of corporate social responsibility (CSR) by putting it in a historical and contemporary context, with a special focus on the EU space in the last 20 years. The questions posed herein are: what are the factors driving this rethinking of CSR, what does the change consist of, and how is that change likely to bear on corporate compliance and sustainability performance?

Corporate social responsibility has been a polarising concept due to its governance ramifications. Private ordering and self-regulation have been the domain of CSR scholarship and practice for decades in their attempt to define the private sector’s role and competitive strategies. The divide between CSR hopefuls – pointing out that business can innovate and contribute without drastic legislative mandates – and CSR sceptics – arguing for legal intervention and deterrence – persists. Corporate voluntarism and industry self-regulation extoll virtues of flexibility, innovation, rapidity and costs-saving presumably out of reach for public regulators.Footnote 3 With its positive connotations CSR was often presented as an alternative to the derided ‘command and control’.Footnote 4 These ideas carried on in the human rights area, where business self-regulation appeared as a viable response to gaps in international law and States’ unwillingness to regulate transnational companies.

This chapter contributes to climate change scholarship by examining CSR from the ‘business and human rights’ (BHR) vantage point. This treatment is chosen for several reasons: human rights are a significant normative element in the ‘fair’ transition, developments in BHR have changed the understanding of CSR in the last two decades, and advances in human rights due diligence are spilling over into the environmental pillar of CSR. The chapter’s main argument is that older notions of CSR have been abandoned in BHR at two significant turning points: first, in 2011 when the UNGPs prompted the EU to redefine CSR away from ‘voluntarism’ and toward ‘smart regulatory mixes’, and second since 2017, when the EU began moving towards the Green Deal and building a regulatory regime for sustainable finance.Footnote 5

The following two sections examine in more depth the two turning points in the last decade of BHR. The fourth section explores some considerations regarding the regulatory regime surrounding CSR nowadays and implications for a fair transition and addressing climate change. In terms of sources, the chapter relies primarily on EU laws, policies, regulatory evaluations and expert reports, as well as academic literature.

15.2 Corporate Social Responsibility in the Pre-Green Deal Period

Corporate social responsibility reached prominence in the United States context in the 1960s, marked by Friedman’s famous critique.Footnote 6 It developed fast primarily on the environmental side, which emphasised quantitative measurements, technological solutions and importance of innovation, which shaped the CSR discourse towards emphasising flexibility and self-regulation.Footnote 7 By the 1990s, the EU began promoting this notion of CSR and expanded it to the social area.Footnote 8 This fit the deregulatory vein of the time, with CSR appearing as ‘neoliberalism’s answer to the social and environmental externalities it was enabling’.Footnote 9 In the EU, CSR was mentioned in the 2000 Lisbon strategy with its ambition of EU becoming the world’s most competitive economy by 2010.Footnote 10 The EU elaborated on CSR throughout the first decade of the 2000s with four CSR strategy papers.Footnote 11 At this time, the UN was proceeding with Global Compact (2000) as a ‘learning platform’ and largest CSR initiative worldwide, and the doomed attempt to devise UN Norms on human rights responsibilities for multinational companies.Footnote 12

15.2.1 Corporate Social Responsibility as Voluntarism and Beyond Compliance

The relation of CSR to the regulatory sphere was a contentious issue. For the EU, CSR was defined as inherently voluntary,Footnote 13 with new regulations promoting CSR being seen as red tape, stifling and incompatible with CSR. Thus, CSR writings and policy documents presented CSR as a matter of ‘beyond-compliance’, while compliance with existing laws being a given. Notably this understanding of CSR developed in the highly regulated space specific to EU welfare States – or the rule of law levels of developed countries as previously in the United States – and this helped preserve an emphasis on voluntarism, flexibility and innovation with governments taking a supportive role only (these being positive incentives for CSR). This rosy view of legal reality made sense only superficially even in industrialised countries; indeed, this simply assumed away regulatory gaps and business influence on the legislative process. It assumed that adequate laws were in place and properly enforced thus delivering compliance.Footnote 14 By comparison, in developing countries where multinational enterprises and their supply chains were operating, such assumption was misplaced. Sweatshop abuses and environmental degradation were happening regularly as companies operated with impunity, taking advantage of gaps in national and international human rights frameworks.Footnote 15 In such a context, CSR as ‘beyond compliance’ was fundamentally inadequate.

Corporate social responsibility received criticism from both ends of the political spectrum. Critics of CSR from the left exposed CSR as a deregulatory ploy and denied corporate self-regulation any significance in advancing human rights.Footnote 16 Critics of CSR from the right questioned the legitimacy of CSR from both a private-interest perspective (in its use of shareholders’ money)Footnote 17 and a public one (that is, accumulation of power in private hands without democratic oversight).Footnote 18 Promoters of CSR drew attention to the learning and socialization merits of CSR (that is, ‘enlightened self-interest’ combining profits and principles)Footnote 19 while acknowledging – expressly or tacitly – its limits and indeed fundamental incapacity, if presented as an alternative to public law.Footnote 20 For some corporate accountability non-governmental organisations (NGOs), the glaring governance gaps and unwillingness of States to regulate meant a conditional and perhaps temporary support for CSR; such NGOs collaborated with the commercial sector in the form of direct engagement with companies, partnerships and voluntary sustainability standards.Footnote 21

Seen through regulatory governance lenses, there were also notable differences. In legal doctrinal treatments, international soft law and CSR were often merged into one category due to their non-binding nature. Such was also the case with non-State actors at international law, as Alston insightfully noted.Footnote 22 A certain role in the evolution of law was implied for (public) international soft law, but rarely fleshed out for (private) regulation through CSR.Footnote 23 In comparison, political science and international relations perspectives proved more able to handle regulatory evolution, and CSR looked like a step in a much longer process of consensus-building and norm formation.Footnote 24 From this perspective, private regulation’s merits might even extend beyond such a temporary usefulness as norms crystallise into laws. Indeed, CSR or self-regulation could have a permanent role in ‘smart mixes’ of measures that create legal, market and societal incentives; human rights should not be understood as only legal rights, especially in transnational settings fraught with regulatory gaps, Ruggie wrote.Footnote 25

15.2.2 Corporate Social Responsibility Redefined During the Ruggie Mandate

During his UN mandate (2005–2011), Ruggie reshaped CSR thinking. Tasked to bridge the gap left open by the UN Norms shelved in 2004, Harvard international relations professor John Ruggie elaborated a concept of CSR fit for the human rights area and international commerce. He exposed the voluntary–mandatory dichotomy as a ‘red herring’Footnote 26 and unproductive way of understanding the relation between private and public authority. He also noted UN’s previous failed attempts to advance corporate accountability through international legal instruments. Ruggie thus challenged orthodoxies on both sides of the CSR spectrum: CSR is not inherently voluntary, and a UN treaty is not necessarily the best first step to progress towards corporate accountability. This set his mandate on an innovative track and planted the seeds for the EU redefining CSR in 2011.Footnote 27

Regarding CSR, Ruggie established ‘do no harm’ as the minimum expected from all businesses in all situations and measured against international human rights standards. With this he exposed the window-dressing effects of CSR where companies tended to highlight positive impacts and offset their negative impacts with commendable societal or environmental actions. Such offsets are not legitimate, Ruggie argued. Furthermore, his CSR concept is more expansive and covers the entirety of supply chains. With this Ruggie delegitimised CSR orthodoxy which confined itself to direct contractors only (that is, the first tier of supply chains) where strong leverage over business partners (such as direct contractors and controlled subsidiaries) exists; the rest of the supply chain where serious human rights abuses lie would be ignored. He argued that corporate responsibility should follow from ‘impact’ instead of ‘leverage’; so what creates a responsibility to act is involvement with adverse impacts wherever in the supply chain and not the existence of leverage. Even more, Ruggie changed how businesses should prioritise risks. Instead of addressing risks to business, as is often done in CSR, companies should address risks to human rights-holders, and ‘severe’ human rights impacts should be dealt with priority and wherever in the supply chain they occurred. This ran counter to common wisdom in CSR steeped into stakeholder management and business case thinking that made CSR about managing societal threats to the company itself. Together, these clarifications reframed CSR and redirected this management exercise to deal with human rights abuses in supply chains.Footnote 28

Regarding regulation, Ruggie rejected legalistic framings embodied in the UN Norms project and also problematised the push for UN treaty as commonly conceived in human rights circles. Instead, Ruggie enmeshed responsible business conduct in a ‘polycentric governance’ framework that depends less on State action and an international treaty.Footnote 29 He achieved clarity and simplicity by promoting ‘human rights due diligence’ as the main operational concept in CSR, supported by a more flexible ‘polycentric governance’ view. He pushed relentlessly for a stakeholder agreement to build momentum for change, including regulatory changes, and embraced ‘principled pragmatism’ as his approach to CSR. In this way, Ruggie recognized the limits of CSR,Footnote 30 and private governance,Footnote 31 without diminishing their value while still recognising the need for intervention of public authority, including through legislation. His mandate culminating in the UNGPs primed the CSR field for the ‘smart regulatory mix’ revolution in the EU.

15.2.3 Corporate Social Responsibility and the Incipient Regulatory Mix in the European Union

The EU immediately endorsed the UNGPs and began acting on this new thinking on CSR. In its 2011 CSR paper, the EU redefined CSR away from being ‘inherently voluntary’ and towards the ‘regulatory mix’ approach.Footnote 32 It began adopting transparency and sectoral regulations inspired by the United States, especially the Dodd–Frank Wall Street Reform and Consumer Protection Act.Footnote 33 Examples are the EU laws on revenue transparency in extractives in 2013,Footnote 34 corporate transparency on ESG in 2014,Footnote 35 and conflict minerals in 2017.Footnote 36 During this period the EU had a strong focus on transparency laws, which was by turns both significant and disappointing at the same time. On the one hand, it marked a change of course from soft law to hard law in CSR; this added much-needed legal incentives for responsible business conduct (RBC).Footnote 37 On the other hand, disclosure laws offered no remedies to victims, and did not generate the ‘name and shame’ or ‘benchmarking’ effects to significantly advance the corporate accountability movement.Footnote 38 These laws did not generate reliable data and lacked appropriate metrics of performance, which meant that markets and investors did not have either the possibility or the incentives to demand CSR from companies.

By the EU’s own assessments,Footnote 39 such disclosure laws failed to achieve their policy objective and shift corporations towards RBC. Furthermore, established means of connecting international trade and development, such as trade agreements and preferential trade schemes, were largely seen as a separate discussion concerning inter-state relations. Indeed, with the 2006 CSR paper the EU attempted a more holistic treatment of CSR and international economic legal regimes, but ultimately did not manage to persuasively connect the two domains because of the original sin of seeing CSR as inherently voluntary.

The effects of CSR – including private sustainability standardsFootnote 40 and multistakeholder partnershipsFootnote 41 – are still being debated and remain dependent on one’s evaluative framework and initial expectations about what CSR is meant to achieve.Footnote 42 As such, variation in assessments is to be expected. Where there is growing agreement is about the limits of CSR, its inherent incapacity to substitute for public regulatory frameworks, and the need for States to re-engage, support, mandate and impose sanctions. As the next section demonstrates, the EU has shifted to mandatory measures backed by sanctions for both RBC and trade agreements areas. Whether by NGOs or by leading companies, there is recognition that some human rights abuses have systemic rootsFootnote 43 and can only be tackled effectively and at scale by co-ordinating in the spirit of ‘shared responsibility’.Footnote 44

In hindsight, the early EU approach to CSR could be seen as minimally demanding, naïvely enabling, and poorly integrated in a coherent policy whole. However, with CSR as voluntarism being revealed as conceptually inadequate to the BHR area and finally put to rest in 2011, the ‘smart regulatory mix’ is beginning to emerge – if in a rather rudimentary form, and with excessive confidence in transparency laws. The application of established notions of CSR to the BHR context at a time of ‘global supply chains revolution’ has led to a redefinition of the notion of CSR. Ruggie’s versatile concept of human rights due diligence facilitated this rethinking of CSR. The term RBC is increasingly used and can be boiled down to corporate due diligence and, coupled with the ‘regulatory mix’ thinking employed by the UNGPs and the EU, has now superseded CSR as voluntarism. The defining shift in CSR in this period was from voluntarism to light touch regulation within an incipient regulatory mix.

15.3 Corporate Social Responsibility in the Green Deal Period

After examining the EU’s CSR approach in the pre-Green Deal period and the shift in CSR that occurred in 2011 on the heels of the UNGPs, this section analyses a second shift in CSR in the Green Deal period. The section has a twofold aim: first to explain the EU model of sustainable growth to which CSR now belongs, and second to identify the drivers for the EU’s changed approach to CSR. The main point is that the EU is moving fast to erect a comprehensive and more demanding ‘regulatory mix’ in CSR and that a constellation of new and old drivers is propelling CSR into a new phase of its evolution. The turning point in the EU is arguably the work on sustainable finance that it began in 2017. This EU objective is coupling finance and the real economy to raise capital and thus enable the transition to green economies,Footnote 45 and is transforming not only the climate and environmental responsibilities of businesses, but is also serving as the major boost regarding their human rights responsibilities.

Some key moments in developing the EU sustainable growth model have been the establishment of the High-Level Expert Group (HLEG) on sustainable finance in 2016Footnote 46, which was followed up by the Technical Expert Group (TEG) on sustainable finance in 2018,Footnote 47 and lately by the permanent advisory expert body, the Platform on Sustainable Finance (PSF) in 2020. Drawing on such expertise, the EU has moved fast with the Action Plan on Financing Sustainable Growth (2018),Footnote 48 the Green Deal Communication (2019),Footnote 49 a Green Taxonomy (2020),Footnote 50 and a Financing Strategy (2021),Footnote 51 as well as a host of legislation and commitments to legislate in an array of discrete areas. In just a few years the EU has erected an entire regulatory ecosystem.

In this context, the EU acknowledged deficiencies regarding its previous approach to CSR. These shortcomings regarded both the few hard laws the EU had employed, as well as the attempted but failed policy coherence in RBC. The EU has conducted its own evaluations and assessed whether reliance on corporate voluntarism and transparency regulations is sufficient, or if passing more stringent legislation is warranted. From this process, the limitations of voluntarism and light touch regulation have emerged strikingly clearly time and time again in the areas of reporting,Footnote 52 due diligence,Footnote 53 and corporate governance.Footnote 54 Juxtaposed with such damning assessments is the urgency of climate action.

15.3.1 Corporate Social Responsibility as Responsible Business Conduct Powered by a New European Union Regulatory Ecosystem

In a significant break with corporate voluntarism, the European Commission proposed in February 2022 a Directive to mandate environmental and human rights due diligence, called the Directive on Corporate Sustainability Due Diligence (CSDDD).Footnote 55 The Commission’s announcement in April 2020 that EU legislation on due diligence was forthcoming was a surprise for all bar those following very closely the sustainable finance discussions in the EU.Footnote 56 The first hint appeared in the 2018 Action Plan which focused on sustainable finance and identified three priorities, one being to ‘foster transparency and long-termism in financial and economic activity’. Regarding this priority, the Plan outlined two specific actions, one regarding the Non-Financial Reporting Directive and the other regarding corporate governance. It was in the latter that ‘due diligence throughout the supply chain’ was mentioned, in rather tentative language.Footnote 57 The final report issued months earlier by the EU High-Level Expert Group on sustainable finance made no such reference to supply chain due diligence.Footnote 58

Thus, in the 2018 Action Plan, due diligence regarding supply chains was briefly referred to, almost obliquely, as part of the corporate governance section, and drowned among numerous actions targeted at the financial sector. It was in this detailed and technical plan focused primarily on finance (rather than real economy) and on environmental impacts (rather than social impactsFootnote 59) that the first reference to mandating CSR for companies appeared. This mention was followed by an ample study on the necessity and regulatory options for due diligence published in early 2020.Footnote 60 The Commission went through its regular procedure consulting externally through public feedback and internally with the Commission’s Regulatory Scrutiny Board, which criticised and twice rejected the Commission’s proposals.Footnote 61 Eventually, the proposal for a Directive was published in February 2022, and will go through the usual reconciliation process with the European Council and Parliament and be followed by the two-year transposition period.

The CSDDD is part of a complex regulatory ecosystem that could be described as a core set of laws applying to the real economy and finance (RBC package) and flanking measures aimed at supporting compliance and complementing these supply chains laws (international trade and development package). In a nutshell, the current CSDDD design establishes obligations for large companies to conduct due diligence to be enforced through civil liability and administrative sanctions.Footnote 62 Due diligence draws on the UNGPs as a risk management approach to prevent and correct adverse impacts on human rights, environment and even climate change.Footnote 63 However, transposing a seemingly clear norm from soft law (UNGPs) to hard law (CSDDD) is a complex process fraught with numerous design options that have been thoroughly contested during the public consultation process.Footnote 64 Indeed, the Commission explained the reasons that triggered this Directive. Among these policy aims that need to be reconciled are legal certainty and predictability, levelling the playing field, avoiding fragmentation of the EU common market, and scaling-up the protection of human rights and the environment.Footnote 65

15.3.1.1 The Responsible Business Conduct Package

Regarding the ‘RBC package’, this is a set of EU laws directed at market actors – basically commercial actors (private or public) – across both businesses and finance. The CSDDD, together with other laws, create a host of legal and market incentives to ensure compliance and promote sustainability. On the one hand, for businesses (that is, the real economy), the EU already has the 2014 Non-Financial Reporting Directive (NFRD) in place,Footnote 66 to be revised and strengthened into the Corporate Sustainability Reporting Directive (CSRD).Footnote 67 On the other hand, for investors (finance), the EU has the Sustainable Finance Disclosure Regulation (SFDR, 2019), and the Green Taxonomy Regulation (2020).Footnote 68 A complementary Social Taxonomy was also considered.Footnote 69 The proposed CSDDD itself goes to some lengths in pointing to the existence of, and relationship between, these laws for reasons of policy consistency.Footnote 70

These hard law instruments reveal a deliberate coupling of investors and investee companies that create new legal and market incentives across supply chains. The EU uses a range of regulatory techniques. Some are purely enabling for the investors, like the Taxonomy regulation, offering a classification that provides clarity on which investee activities can be considered sustainable.Footnote 71 Others remove constraints and thus increase discretion to take ESG factors into account without mandating new conduct. For example, the CSDDD corporate governance provisions ‘liberate’ corporate directors from the ‘tyranny’ of ‘short termism’,Footnote 72 and the public procurement directives (2014) ‘liberated’ agencies to take CSR into account.Footnote 73 Yet some other laws are more prescriptive, such as the NFRD (2014) and the SFDR (2019), which impose reporting obligations,Footnote 74 but do not mandate changes in decision-making and count instead on market incentives to indirectly achieve such changes. Finally, a law like the CSDDD will be closest to the prescriptive end as it makes risk management mandatory and creates both legal and market incentives. Some financial institutions are already covered by the CSDDD, but a future law might impose due diligence obligations for financial actors that currently have only reporting obligations under the SFDR.Footnote 75

What these new and older forms of CSR legalisations have in common is that they are all targeted directly at market players, whether from finance, business or governmental procurement agencies. They create legal and market incentives and are meant to be reinforcing through the company–investor interface. Notably, laws that are prescriptive for companies are enabling for investors that gain access to indispensable data so they can themselves comply with their obligations. It is not surprising that some of the most vocal supporters of a stringent CSDDD are financial institutions.Footnote 76 The quality of corporate CSR reporting, despite decades of private ESG standardisation,Footnote 77 has made such data effectively unusable to investors.Footnote 78 Despite the oft-recited growth in responsible investment,Footnote 79 and interest of investment funds demonstrated with figures in the trillions of U.S. dollars invested based on ESG criteria, the latest EU actions reveal the sobering reality and lasting deficiencies in CSR reporting and the inability of investors to act on such information. Alliances for responsible investment are nothing new,Footnote 80 but as the EU’s assessments of the NFRD recognised, legislators mistakenly assumed that corporate voluntarism, private standardisation of ESG metrics, and reporting regulations such as the NFRD were the perfect light-touch regulation, and would be sufficient to pull the financial sector into sustainability.

Its merits notwithstanding, the current CSDDD draft reveals discrepancies regarding climate change provisions: climate is not part of the environmental due diligence provisions, but appears under the corporate governance provisions where directors have duties to identify climate risks, reconsider the business model, set climate target plans, and adjust renumeration.Footnote 81 Still, the proposed CSDDD claims complementarity of sustainability due diligence with the European Climate law and the ‘Fit for 55’ package of proposals.Footnote 82 As such, full consistency and policy coherence is still work in progress in the RBC package. In sum, the ‘regulatory mix’ approach of the EU is visible from the diversity of instruments but also their cross-linkages in the RBC package.Footnote 83

15.3.1.2 The Trade and Development Package

Regarding the ‘trade and development package’, it contains a mix of prescriptive and supportive measures targeted at other actors that are not covered by the RBC package (such as large companies and finance organisations) but that have roles in the operation of supply chains. Such actors include exporting states, suppliers, and even civil society groups. The measures in question consist of trade and development instruments that the EU has used for some time: unilateral trade schemes (the Generalised Scheme of Preferences; GSP),Footnote 84 bilateral free trade agreements (FTAs), multilateral development co-operation agreements,Footnote 85 and national official development assistance (ODA). All these instruments refer sustainability topics such as human rights, worker rights, and environmental protection. However, it is only recently that the EU has fully recognised the complementarity and synergies between measures in the two packages to govern supply chains.

A more stringent mix of measures is emerging through the strengthening of older instruments and the addition of new ones linked to CSDDD. Older measures are inter-State instruments creating obligations for States, but not for commercial actors. For example, under FTAs and GSPs, commercial actors do not acquire obligations, but it is instead exporting states that undertake to change the regulatory frameworks. This can result in more stringent national law obligations on suppliers in exporting states and stricter enforcement. Notably, these inter-State approaches were set in motion in previous decades: GSPs since 1971, development co-operation agreements with human rights conditionalities since 1991,Footnote 86 and FTAs with social clauses which appeared in the 1990s,Footnote 87 and which have contained trade and sustainable development (TSD) chapters since 2011.Footnote 88 Thus they precede CSR and sustainability due diligence as a way of connecting international trade and values (sustainability). Such social conditionalities in development co-operation and trade have received their own criticism for lack of effectiveness and problematic enforcement.Footnote 89

One development in this area is the strengthening and reform of these old State–State instruments. This is particularly evident in EU trade policy, which reveals a newfound assertiveness.Footnote 90 It is a requirement under EU law that all EU trade agreements include TSDs nowadays.Footnote 91 Recently, the EU acted on its commitment to more stringent TSDs in FTAs,Footnote 92 and a seeming willingness to use access to the EU market.Footnote 93 In 2022, the Commission proposed a ban on imports tainted by forced labour,Footnote 94 and reformed its approach to FTAs to utilize trade sanctions to enforce TSDs.Footnote 95 The EU is also involved in reform of international investment law, especially through addressing the much criticized arbitration system.Footnote 96

Another development is the addition of flanking measures to complement mandatory due diligence. The risk is that large companies comply with their new due diligence obligations under CSDDD in ways that shift responsibility for improvements to their suppliers. Indeed, the CSDDD uses the ‘cascading’ approach in which EU companies rely on contractual assurances from, and audits of, direct contractors, which in turn replicates these expectations for their own suppliers and thus drives improvements throughout the entire chain. To help all these suppliers respond to CSR requests from the large companies, the CSDDD refers to ‘accompanying measures’ for small and medium-sized enterprises that use ODA support, standards, information, and support for multistakeholder initiatives among others. Indeed, two months after issuing the CSDDD proposal the EU published a detailed report outlining these accompanying measures.Footnote 97 Furthermore, to support large companies covered by CSDDD, the CSDDD also applies to large non-EU companies. This aims to level the playing field; non-EU companies have to perform the same due diligence under the CSDDD in order to places product on the EU market and are thus prevented from operating to put EU companies at a competitive disadvantage.

The EU has developed a more coherent and encompassing approach to supply chains. Most notable are the EU trade policies, contained in the 2015 and 2021 communications from the Commission.Footnote 98 These trade policies are notable because they take into account the supply chain revolution, and also link trade to human rights, labour rights, and environmental protection under the ‘value-based trade’ discourse.Footnote 99 Historically speaking, the inter-State track of trade and development has evolved in almost clinical conceptual isolation from the voluntary, business-driven CSR track. In contrast, the current trade policies – as well as the recent decent work policyFootnote 100 – establish the link between trade, supply chain regulation, and values, and thus advances policy coherence. This creates an encompassing policy mix of legal and market incentives throughout supply chains, and does not shy away from including legal incentives that were taboo during the CSR and trade liberalisation period powered by neoliberalism.

The EU’s comprehensive regulatory mix approach does not reflect a command-and-control approach to global supply chains from industrialised States and/or their multinational enterprises (MNEs) subjected to new laws. The EU approach indicates a rejection of overreliance on legal incentives. This is detectable in both packages. On the one hand, in the RBC package, the civil liability provisions for failures of due diligence are carefully calibrated in a fault-based liability system. If liability remains as it is in the CSDDD proposal it marks a significant development and begins to lift carefully the corporate veil that has protected parent companies for so long.Footnote 101 However, the way in which the CSDDD specifies due diligence and balances legal certainty and meaningful compliance triggered criticism as a departure from the UNGPs.Footnote 102 On the one hand, in the trade and development package, there are continuing limitations despite reform being underway. Thus, under EU FTAs with sustainable development chapters, workers and unions have no standing and still have to rely on States to further their claims. In 2022 stringencies were added regarding both complaints mechanisms (Single Entry Point), but also regarding trade sanctions for TSDs that alter the traditionally promotional EU approach.Footnote 103 Regarding investment, shortcomings are recognised, but there is not a shift towards affected individuals and communities acquiring standing and rights in the Investor–State Dispute Settlement (ISDS) system. In sum, the turn to comprehensive regulatory mixes in CSR adds much-needed legal incentives, but does deliver the deterrence that would be created through stricter legal liability and/or actionable rights.

A final observation as the EU advances with its model of sustainable growth: does the urgency of climate change still allow time for these regulatory mix dynamics to unfold, or does this to constitute a flaw of the entire regulatory design? The ‘smart mix’ approach is a recalibration to address the inadequacies of CSR and a reversal of the retreat of the public sector from markets. Furthermore, two packages of measures have emerged in the context of the EU Green Deal and its continued reliance on markets to achieve a green and fair transition. Private finance is seen as essential to the SDGs and Green Deal, and the use of regulation is meant to enable sustainable finance and have impact at scale. However, the merits of this elegant ‘regulatory mix’ reasoning could pale into irrelevance if the pace or very destination – the ‘sustained growth’ model and vision of a ‘green economy’ – are incorrectly judged.Footnote 104

In sum, the strengthening of regulatory incentives in both packages is detectable. New legal and market incentives are created at the interface between finance and the real economy. The EU shows that CSR as voluntarism has become outdated in concept and practice. The defining shift in CSR in this period is from light-touch regulation within an incipient regulatory mix to a more stringent and fully fledged regulatory mix. The ‘regulatory mix’ to ensure responsible business conduct is advancing at a furious pace. There is a move towards policy coherence given that both the RBC package and the complementary trade and development package deal with one main target, the international supply chain. The major driver regarding RBC has emerged to be the EU’s bet on sustainable finance, as the centrepiece of its Green Deal and ‘fair transition’ due to the climate emergency. The next section explores further the why question and drivers behind EU’s CSR transformation.

15.3.2 Drivers Behind the European Union’s Revised Approach to Corporate Social Responsibility

In less than a decade, the EU dramatically changed its approach to CSR, first by abandoning CSR as voluntarism and beyond compliance after 2011, and second by developing its comprehensive ‘regulatory mix’ through the EU Green Deal process after 2017. It is thus clear that the climate emergency, the emphasis on sustainable finance, and the insistence on a ‘fair transition’ to a green economy are the key drivers for CSR in the EU at present. The analysis of the RBC package and trade and development package explained the EU’s regulatory strategy centred on corporate sustainability due diligence and flanking measures such that new legal and market incentives were purposively created at all levels of the supply chain.

This section further develops the explanation by pointing out three additional drivers that potentially shape the EU approach to CSR. They refer to the multilateral human rights system of the UN (as an international human rights law driver) where the human rights due diligence concept first appeared in the UNGPs; developments at national level in EU Member States; and geostrategic considerations, as the EU is still the largest market in the world in relation to trade with the United States and People’s Republic of China (PRC).

15.3.2.1 Driver 1: The International Human Rights System

International human rights law, through the UN General Assembly, recognised in 2022 the right to a clean environment as a human right.Footnote 105 Furthermore, human rights bodies routinely refer to climate change as the greatest threat to the protection of human rights nowadays. A significant contribution of the international human rights law system to CSR has been the human rights due diligence concept and enabling framework delivered by the UNGPs. By now due diligence has now moved from human rights to the broader Environmental, Social, and Governance (ESG) area with notions of climate due diligence and sustainability due diligence being in use. Because the UNGPs are inherently limited as soft law instruments, States in the UN Human Rights Council embarked in 2014 on an attempt to harden such soft law norms in a legally binding instrument. Deliberations on this treaty on business and human rights are proceeding slowly in what is bound to be a contentious and long-term effort.Footnote 106 Until 2022, the EU has followed such deliberations as an observer, voicing concerns where it considered it necessary.

The international human rights law system as the legal repository of human rights values and commitments of States has structural weaknesses. These seem even more difficult to overcome at the multilateral level (the UN) nowadays with a push back against human rights from authoritarian States. Thus, a number of States align for economic or political interests with the PRC’s ‘State multilateralism’ grounded in sovereigntist impulses and a deliberate rejection of human rights.Footnote 107 From a different angle, some corporate accountability advocates have decried what they perceive as a shift in the UN system from multilateralism to ‘multistakeholderism’. This shift that occurred at the turn of the millennium is embodied in the UN opening up to the private sector – through the UN Global Compact regarding CSR, the SDGs regarding development, and sustainable finance (such as green bonds) in the climate area – which critics identify with neoliberalism and an oversized role for commercial interests.Footnote 108 To counterbalance this, some civil society groups emphasise civil and political rights and/or the indivisibility of human rights as developed in the UN system, and support ‘inclusive multilateralism’. This would preserve and enlarge the space for civil society to participate in UN work and resist relegating human rights as the exclusive precinct of sovereign States (State multilateralism) and/or subject to the profit-driven interests of corporations (multistakeholderism).

The discussions around corporate accountability and the human rights responsibilities of multinational enterprises are shaped by this triangle of visions surrounding the UN human rights system: State multilateralism, inclusive multilateralism, and multistakeholderism. In this context, one could say that the current negotiations for a BHR treaty merely reflect the latest instalment of a half century attempt to deal with transnational corporations at the multilateral level.Footnote 109 During this long period, the regulatory mix approach appeared haltingly, and has only been embraced hesitantly in the UN. Indeed, the 2011 UNGPs have been the exception in their articulation and embrace of polycentric governance thinking, while pre-UNGPs (2003 UN Norms) and well as post-UNGPs (BHR treaty drafts) default on more coercive regulatory regimes for multinational enterprises.Footnote 110 Furthermore, the international human rights law system is pursuing a parallel track that partially overlaps with the analysis in this chapter and where these three visions also clash. Thus, there are deliberations around the right to development following a process initiated by the PRC and some participants in the Non Aligned Movement.Footnote 111 The ambition again is to harden soft law, that is, develop the 1986 Declaration into a legally binding convention.Footnote 112

It is then difficult for a strong RBC driver to emerge from within the multilateral human rights system to begin with, and uncertain if it would naturally align with the EU model. Indeed, the model of State multilateralism advanced by the PRC and like-minded developing countries increasingly rejects human rights, and thus implicitly the BHR agenda, while some advocates for ‘inclusive multilateralism’ reject the ’smart mix’ as a concession to neoliberalism. Furthermore, the above-mentioned initiatives within the UN also aim high, that is, towards adopting treaties, which adds significant negotiation and ratification challenges. It is, however, predictable that the EU will seek to promote its approach to RBC in multilateral settings. Driven by considerations to ‘level the playing field’ for EU businesses, the EU signalled in 2021 an intention to engage more closely with the UN treaty process. The Organisation for Economic Co-operation and Development (OECD) and the World Trade Organisation (WTO) might offer alternative arenas where the EU might push its model of mandatory due diligence. Thus in 2022 OECD issued guidelines for States, and in 2020 the WTO began negotiations on investment facilitation that open space for RBC to be included.Footnote 113 In this way, not only is the UN system not a driver for the current EU approach to RBC, but the reverse is conceivable, with the regional EU model instead being a driver for CSR in other regions through the so-called ‘Brussels effect’.Footnote 114

15.3.2.2 Driver 2: Developments at the National Level in European Union Member States

The Commission’s decision to propose the CSDDD was explicitly based on a desire to harmonise national legislation in EU Member States.Footnote 115 The last few years have seen European States adopt due diligence laws, or ponder their adoption, which has created a risk of fragmentation within the internal market and the divergence of legislative requirements for European companies in that space. Furthermore, strategic litigation in the EU and other industrialised States, for both human rights and environmental harms, has dramatically increased in the last decade.Footnote 116 With the arrival of new due diligence laws, some of them containing civil liability provisions (for example, with France and the CSDDD), case law can change in unpredictable ways. Indeed, courts can now factor into their tort law analyses a company’s failure to observe statutorily defined obligations of due diligence, and thereby find it causative of harm in supply chains. Such complex determinations of causation might easily lead to diverging case law in EU countries.

Notably, there has been a surprising level of support in business circles for mandatory due diligence. Groups of large multinational enterprises and/or investors, sometimes calling for the inclusion of civil liability clauses, have issued public statements of support.Footnote 117 At times such letters have been signed by both business and NGOs together. As is to be expected, there has been opposition, and lobbying efforts to water down the CSDDD proposal, as was revealed during the lengthy EU public consultation processes. To this end, gauging the level and areas of business support is a delicate task painting a complex picture.Footnote 118

Nevertheless, the CSR experience together with evidence on CSR accumulated in the last three decades have counted in the birth of the CSDDD. CSR allowed the EU to build on business practice to demonstrate the feasibility and necessity of mandatory due diligence. So, even though meaningful CSR remains confined to a fraction of businesses, leading businesses tend to support the regulatory mix reasoning precisely due to disincentives in the competitive marketplace and the difficulty they encounter in addressing deeper causes of abuse in supply chains. Nevertheless, even though the maturation of CSR is a notable development, this in itself cannot shift markets and have an effect at scale on sustainability, as EU evaluations have persuasively established. In sum, pioneering legislation in some EU member States, CSR experiences, and civil society advocacy have created a groundswell of demand and support for RBC that prompted the EU to intervene and pursue harmonisation through CSDDD.

15.3.2.3 Driver 3: Geostrategic Shifts

The EU puts forward a model of ‘sustainable growth’ to its geopolitical rivals, particularly the PRC, described as rival, competitor, and partner.Footnote 119 This is particularly evident vis-à-vis EU trade policy, which reveals a newfound assertiveness. Trade is thus part of a geopolitical rearrangement where the EU tries to position itself in relation to the United States and PRC as a global standard setter and promotor of values-infused, rule-based multilateralism.Footnote 120 The EU position, with RBC forming a part of a broader vision, is thus evolving in response to the PRC’s rise with its own model of State-capitalism and governance, and its concerted effort to reshape the human rights system.Footnote 121

The EU is currently answering a challenge from the outside (that is, the PRC’s rise and the United States’s hesitancy regarding multilateralism and free trade) as well as from the inside (that is, to succeed with its ‘just transition’ or succumb to climate change and vulnerabilities in its social market model). Responsible business conduct, understood as due diligence powered by regulatory mixes, is nowadays valued for its role in answering both the external and internal challenges the EU faces. The Russian war in Ukraine has only further compelled the EU to examine its energy and economic dependencies, and to double down on the green transition, while hundreds of western companies went beyond doctrinaire compliance and decided to withdraw from Russia entirely to protect their domestic and international reputations.Footnote 122

15.4 Conclusions

This chapter set out to examine the concept of CSR as it evolved in the last two decades as part of the BHR agenda. The question was how and why CSR has changed, in particular in the EU. The main findings are that these changes have happened primarily because of the climate emergency and the policy response that relies on sustainable finance. Notions of corporate due diligence play a key role in two ways. On the one hand, corporate due diligence proved to be a unifying concept. The EU brings together human rights and environmental sides of CSR throughout EU value chains. Originally it was the UNGPs that emphasized human rights due diligence, and the EU has now embraced and expanded the concept as sustainability due diligence. On the other hand, the EU has advanced significantly with the ‘regulatory mix’ ideas in the UNGPs. Not only was the ‘voluntarism’ aspect of CSR abandoned, but the EU is now mobilising a broad set of regulatory techniques to create legal and market incentives for sustainability. Within just a decade, the regulatory landscape around CSR has changed dramatically in the EU space, where a comprehensive regulatory ecosystem is being erected at a rapid pace. With its Green Deal, the EU has set its objective a ‘fair transition’ to a green economy that emphasizes the environmental and social sides of CSR in a European model of sustainable growth.

What does this exploration of CSR from a human rights and historical perspective add to the question on whether CSR measures can be effective in implementing climate policies? The business and human rights experience has exposed the ‘voluntarism versus law’ framing as a ‘red herring’ and a less-productive way to think of global governance and the private sector. CSR as corporate voluntarism is a concept that has outlived its usefulness and remains wedded to a neoliberal era when State intervention was anathema and growth within planetary boundaries was not an issue.Footnote 123 The concept now, as exemplified by the EU example, is responsible business conduct understood as due diligence backed by a regulatory mix. The lesson from the CSR period is that it cannot deliver without an enabling regulatory environment, whether in the climate area or the human rights area. In particular, it cannot deliver at scale and cannot achieve transformations at industry and systemic levels. When problems are systemic in this way, private governance encounters limitations despite its claimed speed, flexibility, and innovation. These incentives are simply not sufficient, either for the real economy or the financial sector.

The current regulatory mix experiment in the EU indicates that CSR has to be understood not as pure voluntarism, but rather as a level of corporate discretion that is guided by a battery of legal and market incentives.Footnote 124 Notably, the EU is not erecting a command-and-control system. Corporate social responsibility is not about voluntarism, but instead about meaningful compliance in a complex legislative ecosystem and the responsible exercise of discretion. It is premature to gauge corporate compliance in supply chains under this regulatory system, but the comprehensive approach and addition of legal incentives are transformative. Significantly, new opportunities arise in this exercise of discretion – for companies, investors, and States – to develop new competitive strategies such as ‘shared value’ for companies and participation in ‘value-based’ trade for States.Footnote 125 Responsible business conduct appears as a key ingredient in the EU policy framework for sustainable finance, production, and consumption, and has a significant role to play in the large-scale transformation to a green and rights-based economy.

16 Extending Ecolabelling in Response to Climate Change

16.1 Introduction

Following the Paris Agreement – the central outcome of the eponymous 2015 climate summitFootnote 1 – the parties decided to implement the objectives envisaged since the beginning of the 1990s via the United Nations Framework Convention on Climate Change (UNFCCC)Footnote 2 as the result of the United Nations Conference on Environment and Development (UNCED) of June 1992.Footnote 3 The set goals are to be achieved gradually between now and 2035 and, within this framework, agriculture and food security featured prominently in the Conference of the Parties (COP) 28 that took place in December 2023. Against this backdrop, precise sustainability policies are remarkably at the heart of the 2030 UN Agenda for Sustainable DevelopmentFootnote 4 and the Governments Step Up Action on Agriculture and Food SecurityFootnote 5 has arisen as a key climate change challenge: food production that reduces carbon emissions contributes significantly to improving sustainable policies and the development of a circular economy is a critical factor in this process. Thus, in order to ensure a sustainable future with low-carbon emissions, it is necessary to outline production processes that are responsible and transparent. For this reason, it is essential not only to identify specific policies that enable healthier and less-polluting production cycles, but also to inform the consumer in a proper way to allow an economic and sociocultural transformation.

A clear example of how sociocultural sustainability can be achieved is the establishment of a comprehensive labelling system that provides not only nutritional information but also data on the environmental impact of food products. Arguably, the progressive extension of environmental labelling from non-food products to food products is emerging as a key factor within the context of climate change policies. In this process, there is a profound interest in identifying new labels, notably environmental labels, with a dual purpose: outlining certifying processes suited to a sustainable and safe development on the one hand, and helping the consumer to make conscious choices when purchasing products on the other.

This contribution aims to explore the possible evolution of a new food environmental labelling system. It analyses the increasing interaction between climate change and food and the implications it may have for labelling. The research first explores the international trajectory and subsequently delves into the implications it may have on the EU’s ecolabelling system.

16.2 Food Security and Climate Change: Towards a Nutritional Environmental Label

Ecolabelling has evolved over time – albeit voluntary, it is progressively expanding to new products. New impetus for such developments has particularly come from the awareness of the link between food security and climate change.

At the domestic level, in 2010 the British Food Standards Agency commissioned a report on the effects of climate change on food.Footnote 6 In 2015, awareness that food production and climate change are closely intertwined arose in the international community, particularly via COP21, and the messaging of both the Food and Agriculture Organisation (FAO) and UN. Indeed, the FAO determined that the food system ‘must be considered in the context of … climate change and the depletion of natural resources’.Footnote 7 As they are ‘major contributors to [greenhouse gas] emissions, amounting to about one-third of global emissions, it is imperative that food systems evolve to sustainably meet the growing demand globally’.Footnote 8 In this context, agriculture emerges as ‘a significant source of greenhouse gas emissions’ and the targets of the Paris Agreement make it ‘essential that agriculture and other land-use sectors be part of the climate solution’.Footnote 9 Indeed, ‘it is increasingly clear that the goals of achieving food security and sustainable agriculture and addressing the challenges of climate change are intertwined and need to be addressed in a coordinated manner’.Footnote 10 Along these lines, in 2019 the newly established Lancet Commission on healthy diets from sustainable food systems,Footnote 11 established under the auspices of the world-leading Lancet medical journal, underscored that the ‘transformation to healthy diets from sustainable food systems is necessary to achieve the UN Sustainable Development Goals and the Paris Agreement’.Footnote 12 Developed countries should therefore ‘share views on how to encourage more balanced diets and minimize emissions per calorie’,Footnote 13 raising the question as to ‘what are the financial and technological solutions for achieving just transition for food security and climate resilient food systems’.Footnote 14

Along these lines, the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC) adopted a strategy and commissioned a report on food securityFootnote 15 that will be undoubtedly debated in upcoming sessions of the IPCC. The idea that sustainable food systems can contribute to ‘lowering emissions of critical climate-warming gases, including methane and carbon dioxide’ has thus become a cornerstone of the UN 2021 Food Systems Summit. Similarly, the International Food Policy Research Institute (IFPRI) considered that ‘food systems contribute substantially to greenhouse gas emissions and must play a role in mitigation through changes in agricultural practices and land use, more efficient value chains, and reduced food loss and waste’Footnote 16. Food therefore scores high on the COP28 agenda, as demonstrated by initiatives such as FAST (Food and Agriculture for Sustainable Transformation Initiative),Footnote 17 iCAN (the Initiative on Climate Action and Nutrition)Footnote 18, and the Roadmap for More Sustainable Food Systems.Footnote 19

This approach triggers the necessity of installing responsible consumption and production under sustainable development goal 12 and to create a synergy with reduced environmental impact and climate action under sustainable development goal 13.Footnote 20 Central to this strategy is the need to inform the consumer about products that follow high-yielding, resilient and adaptive practices (HYRAP),Footnote 21 particularly via food environmental labelling.Footnote 22 Support instruments are thus being created by institutions directly involved in the sector, claiming a precise role for ecolabels as a solution to climate change mitigation.Footnote 23

16.3 The European Union Trajectory
16.3.1 From the ‘Community Eco-Label Award Scheme’ to the ‘EU Ecolabel’

Environmental labelling has essentially developed as a voluntary, and therefore not compulsory system, including three mechanismsFootnote 24: (a) type I environmental labellingFootnote 25; (b) type II self-declared environmental claimsFootnote 26; and (c) the International Organisation for Standardization (ISO) type III environmental product declaration.Footnote 27 These all contribute to the environmental information process and help to identify and promote environmentally friendly products and services that have a higher environmental performance standard. Given that schemes (b) and (c) provide no certification by an independent body and rely on mechanisms such as information communicated by companies,Footnote 28 this chapter will focus on type I labels, which require certification by an independent body through a series of criteria and assessment and verification requirements.

A clear example of type I labelling is the Ecolabel certification, which has been around for three decades, evolving from the ‘Community eco-label award scheme’ to the current ‘EU Ecolabel’. As far back as 1992, a petition of the EU Council proposed an eco-labelling scheme covering environmental impacts during the entire life cycle of a product.Footnote 29 This established the ‘Community eco-label award scheme’, a system that initially expressly excluded eco-labelling not only for pharmaceutical products but also for beverages and foods.Footnote 30

The importance of improving the regulation of the eco-label system led to a revision of the 1992 resolution, introducing a new scheme based on two regulations that came into force in 2000. In this context, the ‘Community eco-label award scheme’ was revisited via Regulation (EC) No. 1980/2000,Footnote 31 which was later repealed in 2010 by the ‘EU Ecolabel’Footnote 32 ‘for reasons of clarity and legal certainty’.Footnote 33 This gradually extended the range of goods or services so as to encompass drinks and foodstuffs, only excluding medicinal products for human use.Footnote 34 A key feature of the ‘EU Ecolabel’ regulation is that it is not compulsory.Footnote 35 The complexity of this labelling system is progressively increasing, necessitating the creation of a European Union Ecolabelling Board (EUEB) contributing to the development and revision of ecolabelling criteria and implementation schemes.Footnote 36 Group product development is also envisaged; although mostly relating to non-food products and services in the clothing and textile sectors, it also takes in such fields as coverings, do-it-yourself enterprise, electronic equipment, furniture, gardening, lubricants, others household items, paper, and personal care products. Even though Regulation 66/2010 of the European Parliament and Council on the EU Ecolabel is applicable to food (per article 6.5), more care is required for food ecolabelling, not only because information provided to the consumer is a safety requirement,Footnote 37 but also because of the express need not to mislead the consumer.Footnote 38

This further led to the creation of the European Food Safety Authority and to laying down targeted food safety procedures, raising the need for a study in relation to food labelling.Footnote 39 The study was completed in 2011,Footnote 40 and the EUEB supported its findings for food and feed products, despite the opposition of a majority of stakeholders.Footnote 41

16.3.2 Ecolabelling after the Green Deal

With the approval of the Green Deal in 2020, the European Union has clearly moved towards a new market for products that is sustainable and fulfils proper circular economy flows. In this context, the labelling system crosses the challenge of balancing climate change, food security and sustainability. Thus, in November 2022, the European Commission underscored the need to transform the food system via a ‘sustainable productivity growth’ based on technology and innovation for agricultural productivity that address climate change challengesFootnote 42. On this basis, the Commission is considering the need to ‘examine ways to create a sustainable labelling framework that covers, in synergy with other relevant initiatives, the nutritional, climate, environmental and social aspects of food products’.Footnote 43At the same time, the Union adopted a directive on corporate sustainability reporting and the need to provide detailed information on sustainability.

Amid other initiatives aiming to accelerate the transition under the Green Deal,Footnote 44 in March 2022 the European Commission adopted the proposal for a regulation on eco-design for sustainable products.Footnote 45 The proposed regulation determines technical standards for sustainability, establishing a ‘digital product passport’ that provides for ‘the setting of mandatory green public procurement criteria’.Footnote 46 This legislative proposal considerably bolsters the importance of the EU Ecolabel,Footnote 47 setting a presumption of product conformity to the ecodesign requirements.Footnote 48 However, labelling continues to be non-compulsory, and the Directive does not apply to food.Footnote 49 Similarly, forthcoming legislation on packaging and packaging waste adopted at the end of November 2022 bears witness to the effort to thoroughly trace the life of a product, environmental sustainability and labelling,Footnote 50 but without express reference to food labelling.

As such, the EU Ecolabel, albeit strengthened via significant legislation and policies after the adoption of the Green Deal, remains secluded from food labelling. It is therefore not yet included in binding regulation, although a trend is emerging towards the inclusion of food products in EU ecolabelling legislation in line with recent international developments, de lege ferenda. Notably, the environmental footprint initiative is a proposal of the Commission that aims to measure and communicate the life-cycle environmental performance of organisations and their food and their products ‘from a supply-chain perspective, including all stages from raw material acquisition through processing, distribution, use, and end of life processes,Footnote 51 and all relevant related environmental impacts (instead of focusing on a single issue)’.Footnote 52 This effort takes place in the context of the implementation of the EU’s Product Environmental Footprint (PEF) in the course of the Environmental Footprint (EF) pilot phase, which is constantly evolving,Footnote 53 and will hopefully lead to a future PEF label also relating to food products,Footnote 54 as provided for in its guidelines.

Domestically, some EU Member States have started to include food in their ecolabelling. Notably, in the light of the EU’s front-of-pack labelling initiatives,Footnote 55 France is considering the possibility of adopting ‘Nutri-Score’ – a key nutrition information labelling scheme – while simultaneously introducing an environmentally considered food labelling hierarchy. Thus, initially, Nutri-Score should have been complemented by ‘Eco-score’, a further food environmental labelling system with the same iconographic structure.Footnote 56 More recently, Eco-score has been partly revised with the new proposal for a different labelling system called ‘Planet-score’.Footnote 57 This is an improved mechanism that takes into account additional indicators including values such as biodiversity, climate, and pesticides.Footnote 58 This model fits into a pathway towards achieving sustainable greenhouse gas emission levels that commenced in 2009 with statutory law Grenelle I,Footnote 59 was subsequently strengthened via statutory law Grenelle II,Footnote 60 and which was completed via statutes on energy transition for green growth,Footnote 61 the circular economy,Footnote 62 and climate change and resilience.Footnote 63

16.4 Conclusion

While environmental labelling was initially designed merely for the purposes of environmental cleanliness, based on the idea of waste prevention,Footnote 64 international regulation is now widening its scope of application with a particular view to spanning greenhouse gas emissions This particularly entails an extension of ecolabelling from non-food to food products, as the food production sector – particularly agriculture – is responsible in itself for one-third of global greenhouse gas emissions. Although the EU Ecolabel Scheme still embraces a restrictive notion of ecolabelling, in the light of evolving regulation in countries such as France, environmental labelling is desirable. It is therefore likely that the EU will de lege ferenda move to an extensive ecolabelling approach, covering both non-food and food products, thereby in part fulfilling the objectives of the Paris Agreement, the UN Agenda 2030 for Sustainable Development and the European Green Deal. In such an evolving framework, it is important to avoid over-information via targeted policies, providing correct consumer information and guaranteeing fair treatment.

17 The Role of Judges in Implementing Climate Policies A Comparative Perspective on the Separation of Powers

17.1 Introduction

The world faces a global climate emergency due to the negative impacts of climate change, not only on biodiversity and ecosystems including species loss and extinction, but also on livelihoods, health, water supply, food security, economic growth, and human security.Footnote 1 Currently, ‘global warming is likely to reach 1.5°C between 2030 and 2052 if it continues to increase at the current rate’.Footnote 2 In order to mitigate climate change and adapt to its negative impacts on natural and human systems, urgent and unprecedented measures are needed. However, even though an international climate change legal regime is in place, states’ measures are lagging behind what is needed to meet the mitigation, adaptation, and financial flow goals set in the Paris Agreement. In fact, between 2010 and 2019, the average annual emissions of greenhouse gases were higher than in any previous decade, and progress on the alignment of financial flows remains slow, heavily focused on mitigation, and has developed heterogeneously across sectors and regions.Footnote 3 Thus, the impacts of climate change continue to cause serious harm as the global temperature keeps increasing, glaciers continue to melt, and environmental disasters such as hurricanes and bushfires are sweeping through countries with increasing regularity.

To achieve more ambitious climate action, particularly through mitigation measures, proactive climate change litigation has emerged as a global trend in recent years.Footnote 4 Cases have been filed by a variety of claimants, such as individuals, local authorities, and non-governmental organisations (NGOs), mainly against national governments and corporations, holding them accountable to their legal obligations and, eventually, engendering policy change. In general, climate cases have several objectives,Footnote 5 ranging from increasing the alignment of national laws and corporate commitments with the Paris Agreement to debating compensation for damages caused by climate change, up to creating awareness of climate change-related human rights violations. Overall, 2,027 climate change-related cases have been recorded until July 2022 before judicial and quasi-judicial bodies at the international, regional, and domestic levels.Footnote 6 With the continuing increase of climate change cases worldwide, questions regarding the role that the judiciary can, and should, play have come to the fore. Not only in cases against governments but also in cases against corporations, the doctrine of the separation of powers has been used as a counterargument in domestic climate change cases.

The doctrine of the separation of powers, with its divisions of the three branches of government (legislative, executive, and judicial), is a vital ingredient of democratic political thought and practice. In the context of climate change litigation, it has called the justiciability of climate change matters, such as climate change legislation and climate targets, into question. Specifically, disagreement exists between advocates for an active judicial role in the climate crisis and those who favour legislative policy discretion. Proactive climate change litigation, which focuses on engendering policy change, especially raises the question as to what extent the judiciary can oblige the other branches of government to take urgent preventative action, and to implement or adjust climate policies. As the doctrine of the separation of powers can be, and has proven to be, an impediment to judicial engagement, climate change litigation faces a dilemma between urgently needed measures against the serious threats of climate change on the one hand and compliance with the doctrine of the separation of powers on the other.

This contribution analyses the role of judges in implementing climate policies as a global issue by taking into consideration the theoretical debates on the doctrine of the separation of powers in different legal systems, along with relevant case-law from different jurisdictions. In consideration of the comparative perspective adopted, the chapter connects international and domestic issues, and highlights to what extent those issues can be overcome to foster an effective implementation of more ambitious climate policies.

17.2 The Role of the Judiciary in Climate Governance: A Global Issue

The global and life-threatening effects of climate change pose an imperative that all nations must independently and co-operatively address with urgency. Climate change is a super-wicked problem,Footnote 7 with devastating and widespread consequences for the international community, making urgent preventative action a global responsibility. Unfortunately, at various levels of governance, cohesive and effective policy efforts to combat climate change have notably failed.Footnote 8 Climate change litigation has become an increasingly popular avenue for tackling the issue of climate change. It is being adopted as a strategy to push States, government bodies, large companies and/or everyday citizens to reconsider their stances and action plans vis-à-vis climate change.Footnote 9 However, it is important to note that not all climate change cases are intended for a social change or outcomes beyond what is associated with an individual case.Footnote 10 The main takeaway is that climate change litigation is becoming a more creative mechanism in pushing States towards redefining their climate action into more ambitious climate laws and policies. If it is within the domain of the judiciary to exercise its authority in response to this global imperative, how, and in what way, may its decisions influence or direct the outcome? Is the rapid increase in climate change litigation around the world undermining the doctrine of the separation of powers?

Since its origins, when the concepts of governmental functions and the theories of mixed and balanced government started to evolve,Footnote 11 the doctrine of the separation of powers has been a vital ingredient of democratic political thought and practice.Footnote 12 It is, standing alone as a theory of government, a political thought that has all along involved several discussions about its definition and use of terms.Footnote 13 The doctrine has been developed, modified, interpreted, and implemented in different ways, leading to various applications in, and understandings of, governmental structures. However, combined with other political ideas, such as the theory of mixed government, the notion of balance, and the concept of checks and balances,Footnote 14 the doctrine of the separation of powers has served as a basis for political systems around the world.Footnote 15 Fundamentally, there are three functions of government according to the doctrine of the separation of powers – legislative, executive, and judicial. In this way, State power is not concentrated within a single State body, but is rather organisationally divided and gives different functions to different actors. Therefore, the separation of the principal institutions of the State limits the possibility of arbitrary excess by the government, while securing citizens’ liberty and individual freedom.Footnote 16 This is also intended to prevent one branch from having more influence or intervening in the affairs of another branch. In turn, achieving a continued balance of power is the end goal.

Accompanying climate change litigation is a major concern for the status of the doctrine of the separation of powers.Footnote 17 For instance, the judicial branch may deem a government’s climate policies inadequate or call for specific legislative action, breeding concerns about whether the judiciary is overstepping its remit with such rulings, and where exactly the separation of powers lies within a State.Footnote 18 Given that climate change is not an issue that will be disappearing soon, the international community is increasingly likely to hear of such concerns associated with climate change cases. Among these concerns is the so-called doctrine of ‘majoritarianism’, according to which the legislative and the executive are elected while the judiciary is not (at least, in most countries).Footnote 19 Therefore, a court ruling against the legislature or the executive ‘would be going against the majority of the country’.Footnote 20 This is similar to the argument on the accountability of the judiciary, whereby the legislators are held accountable to the public, while the judiciary is not, and on public participation, which is generally restricted in the judicial process. Another argument against more proactive climate litigation is the pretended incapability of the judiciary to deal with a complex issue such as climate change, which involves implications of varying nature, concerning economic, scientific, technical, geopolitical, or even national security matters.Footnote 21

On the other hand, several other reasons can be mentioned in favour of a proactive judicial role in climate governance: keeping the other branches in check, defending constitutional values, providing public goods in the long term (which is contrary to the short-termism typical of the elected branches of the State), and ensuring that rights are enforced and/or established. Rights enforcement seems particularly relevant in this historical period, notably after the adoption of Resolution 48/13 by the United Nations (UN) Human Rights Council (in October 2021) and Resolution 76/300 by the UN General Assembly (in July 2022) recognising that having a clean, healthy, and sustainable environment is a human right under international law, and calling on UN Member ‘States, international organizations, business enterprises and other relevant stakeholders to adopt policies, to enhance international cooperation, strengthen capacity-building and continue to share good practices in order to scale up efforts to ensure’ this right.Footnote 22 In general, judicial activism has always been an important source of legal developments around the world, despite presenting an element of opposition to legislators, executives, and even much of the population. This has been demonstrated in the case of the abolishment of segregation in schools by the United States Supreme Court,Footnote 23 or of the death penalty by the Hungarian Alkotmánybirósága (Constitutional Court).Footnote 24 It is also important to consider the typical phenomenon – and political science notion – of ‘regulatory capture’, by which lobbies and special-interest groups influence regulation and effectively exercise more power than the will of the majority. This puts the judiciary in a more independent and impartial position than the executive and legislative branches. While the judiciary cannot legislate, it can shape jurisprudence that might be conducive to evolution in climate policy, through the responsibility of interpreting the law. Moreover, the strategic function of climate litigation is to be carefully taken into consideration as a vehicle for raising awareness and social mobilisation, and, therefore, for encouraging executives and legislators around the world to foster their ambition in climate policies.

To what extent is the judiciary merely checking that ‘the actions of the legislative and administrative branches conform with the existing law’?Footnote 25 This should be done by making clear through judgements whether the governmental environmental policies are not fulfilling legal obligations and by demanding compliance with those.Footnote 26 Undoubtedly, courts have also had a role in ensuring that any limitations on human rights are justified. By bringing climate cases before courts or quasi-judicial bodies, civil society and other actors are attempting to correct the functioning of the rule of law in a time of emergency. Furthermore, it cannot be emphasised enough that climate cases are not placing an extraordinary task on judges, but rather that the judiciary is performing an ordinary and appropriate function when determining whether the other branches of government are operating within the limits of the law.Footnote 27 Finally, the doctrine of the separation of powers should not be such a crucial problem for climate governance after all, as the judiciary is effectively occupying the void left by the other branches.

17.3 The Separation of Powers in Climate Change Litigation: Theoretical Debates

Considering the analytical and theoretical perspectives on the separation of powers in climate change litigation, several arguments have been advanced on both sides of the debate. What it boils down to is that the role of the judiciary in climate change litigation, and especially when it comes to climate policies, is disputed, between those advocates of absolute policy discretion, and those in favour of a progressive judicial role in the climate crisis.

17.3.1 Policy Discretion

Courts play a powerful role, particularly in democratic States. They protect individual rights and civil liberties, provide checks and balances on the other state branches, adjudicate as an ‘impartial guardian of the law’, and ‘articulate constitutional values and ensure government compliance with the law’.Footnote 28 In the case of climate change litigation, domestic courts offer a critical forum to address global and local consequences as well as the implications of climate change, especially considering the absence of an international environmental law court.Footnote 29 However, when it comes to the question of whether courts have a role in defining and developing climate policies, several concerns exist in legal scholarship that if they do, the doctrine of the separation of powers is disobeyed.

Due to the complexity of climate change policies, a concern that arises is whether courts are capable of deciding on such matters. On the one hand, climate policies must take several elements into consideration such as complex harms, ecology, economy, and effects on society, which can be led back to the polycentric nature of climate change.Footnote 30 On the other hand, courts are limited to interpreting existing law. In order to comply with the doctrine of the separation of powers, ‘it is imperative that courts are not assigned with tasks that are more properly accomplished by other branches’.Footnote 31 As the late U.S. Supreme Court Associate Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg commented, other bodies are ‘better equipped to do the job than individual district judges issuing ad hoc, case-by-case decisions. They can hold hearings and balance the many interests involved’.Footnote 32 As such, if courts decide on climate change policies, they might overstep their powers – as the other two branches and their institutions might be better equipped to decide on those policies. In addition to the complexity of climate change policies, concerns exist regarding the judiciary’s lack of expertise in the field of regulating greenhouse gas emissions.Footnote 33 Questions related to science, economy, and technology must be answered when regulating greenhouse gas emissions, which are ‘consigned to the political branches, not the judiciary’.Footnote 34 If the judiciary regulates greenhouse gas emissions, it could overstep its powers as it interferes with the competence of the political branches.

Some scholars even go as far as to argue that litigating climate policies is per se ‘anti-democratic’, as the judiciary interferes with the workings of democracy when it rules on climate policies.Footnote 35 If climate change policies have been adopted by the means of a majoritarian decision taken by a democratically elected body, which represents the people, litigating those policies could be seen as bypassing the will of the people. As a result of these ‘anti-democratic’ concerns, climate change cases have been described as ‘political stunts’ addressing questions that no judge is qualified to answer.Footnote 36

In addition, voices agreeing that the doctrine of the separation of powers is violated when the judiciary rules in climate change cases can be found when looking at scholarly work that covers cases which have already been litigated. For example, regarding the landmark Dutch case Stichting Urgenda v. State of the Netherlands,Footnote 37 some authors argue that the Rechtbank den Haag (District Court of The Hague) ‘should have shown more restraint in the light of the discretionary powers of the government’.Footnote 38 Similarly, some scholars have raised concerns after a famous climate-related decision of the German Bundesverfassungsgericht (Federal Constitutional Court) in 2021,Footnote 39 accusing that court of crossing the line between jurisprudence and politics and, therefore, violating the separation of powers.Footnote 40

17.3.2 Progressive Judicial Role

While these voices about the judiciary violating the principle of the separation of powers in climate change litigation exist in legal scholarship, there are also voices in favour of a progressive judicial role in climate litigation. As voices in favour of absolute policy discretion boil down to a democratic argument, Burgers uses Habermas’ political theory on deliberative democracy to assess the role of the judiciary in climate change litigation.Footnote 41 According to Burgers’ analysis, the ‘climate litigation trend is likely to influence the democratic legitimacy of judicial decisions on climate change, as it indicates a growing recognition that a sound environment constitutes a constitutional matter and is therefore a prerequisite for democracy to be protected by judges’.Footnote 42 By bringing in political theories on democracy, as well as philosophical arguments, some scholars observe that ‘[a]fter all, the case must be decided one way or another. Judges cannot remain suspended in aporetic reverie, however intellectually enticing’.Footnote 43 Novak even goes as far as to argue that ‘[i]f courts continue to dismiss climate cases as political questions, this may eventually undermine the legitimacy of the judiciary, as well as the rule of law itself’.Footnote 44

Instead of describing climate cases as ‘political stunts’, supporters of a progressive judicial role in climate litigation have classified those disputes as ‘the civil rights cases of the 21st Century’.Footnote 45 As civil rights cases have invoked the authority of all State branches in the past, with each branch playing its role in promoting and protecting the rights and liberties of the people, it would be no different from climate cases.Footnote 46 On the contrary, according to the former Magistrate Judge Thomas Coffin, of the U.S. District Court for the District of Oregon, it is ‘even more important for the Courts to step up to their role as a co-equal and independent branch, and to perform their duty to address the civil rights challenges of the 21st Century’.Footnote 47 Indeed, it can be argued that if the judiciary does not act as a co-equal and independent branch, its legitimacy might be in greater danger than if it plays an active role in climate change litigation.

Just as there are scholars who argue that judges have overstepped their powers and, therefore, have violated the doctrine of the separation of powers in already litigated climate cases, there are scholars who welcome the decisions taken by the respective courts. Taking the judgements in the Urgenda and Neubauer et al. cases again as an example, Eckes holds that judges do not ‘undermine separation of powers as a time-honoured achievement of modern constitutional democracies in order to force political branches to take urgently necessary actions’.Footnote 48 In general, in human rights-based climate change cases, ‘[j]udges should – pursuant to formal rules – oblige the policy-maker to justify her choices in public in light of their impact on human rights’.Footnote 49 Given the nature of human rights, which protects citizens from unjustified oppression, those who exercise public power in a way that restricts human rights are required to provide legitimate reasons for so doing.Footnote 50 According to Eckes, this is where the function of the judiciary comes in. The separation of powers ‘is needed to ensure the sincerity of the reason-giving process. It reconciles law and politics in practice in a way that one never fully dominates the other and must therefore still answer to the other’.Footnote 51

Other scholars, examining the Urgenda case and two other decisions, argue that the ‘judiciary should … take an important role in climate change policymaking in order for the State to comply with its duty to instigate emission limits’.Footnote 52 While the latter scholars advocate for a progressive judicial role in climate change litigation, the different views in legal scholarship as illustrated above demonstrate that there are disagreements between support for absolute policy discretion and for a progressive judicial role in climate change litigation. More broadly, this applies to tensions between law and politics.

However, as noted in the sections above, the judiciary’s role in climate change litigation has grown, and continues to grow, as more climate cases are filed not only at the domestic level but also at the regional and international levels. Thus, it is certain that as long as climate change cases are brought before the courts, the debate in legal scholarship about the ‘appropriate role’ of the judiciary in climate change litigation will continue. Beyond that, to find possible answers to the question of the role of the judiciary in climate litigation and in implementing climate policies, it is essential to examine not only different stances in legal scholarship but also opinions within the judiciary itself.

17.4 Comparative Case-Law

The tension between urgently needed climate measures and compliance with the doctrine of the separation of powers has played out with varying outcomes in recent climate change cases. The following selection of cases can be seen as representing different degrees of adherence to the doctrine in climate change litigation, moving from more progressive judicial stances to more policy discretion.

17.4.1 Pakistan

Shortly before the adoption of the Paris Agreement, in the Leghari case, the Lahore High Court decided that ‘[t]he existing environmental jurisprudence has to be fashioned to meet the needs of something more urgent and overpowering [that is] climate change’.Footnote 53 The plaintiff alleged the violation of his fundamental rights, such as the right to life and the right to dignity, in conjunction with environmental principles, as a result of the Pakistani government’s neglect in the implementation of climate change policies. Because of ‘the delay and lethargy of the State in implementing the Framework’ and the impact of this on the ‘fundamental rights of the citizens of Pakistan’, the court ruled in favour of the plaintiff. In doing so, the Lahore High Court directed several governmental ministries to nominate a ‘climate change focal person’ and to present a list of action points. In addition, it created the Climate Change Commission with various powers to ensure that its ruling was duly implemented.

17.4.2 The Netherlands

A rights-based approach was taken by the claimants in the Urgenda case in the Netherlands. Until the last decade, the Netherlands had played a central role in establishing cohesive international environmental policies,Footnote 54 maintaining the position that further climate action, beyond the European Union’s (EU) minimum requirements, would not be pursued unless Dutch interests would significantly benefit from it.Footnote 55 This policy course began to falter when 886 Dutch citizens, represented by the Urgenda Foundation, brought a class action suit against the Dutch government in 2013. The main request was that the Dutch government commits to limiting greenhouse gas emissions to 40% below the 1990 level by 2020.Footnote 56 The Rechtbank den Haag ruled in favour of Urgenda in 2015, ordering the Dutch government to reduce its greenhouse gas emissions by at least 25%.Footnote 57 The Court did not specify how the government was to achieve this target, as that policy process is the government’s prerogative. However, the Dutch government almost immediately began to file an appeal after the announcement of the decision, stating inter alia that the court’s verdict was in breach of the separation of powers,Footnote 58 arguing that it is not within the court’s mandate to rule over policy on reduction targets for greenhouse gas emissions. The Gerechtshof den Haag (Court of Appeals of The Hague) reaffirmed the government’s duty of care to the Dutch population. In line with the European Convention on Human Rights (ECHR) provisions (articles 2 and 8, respectively, on the right to life and right to family and private life), the Court considered that it is the responsibility of the judiciary to offer protection to the Dutch population, even from their own government.Footnote 59 Making its way to the Hoge Raad der Nederlanden (Supreme Court of the Netherlands), the case was eventually won by the claimants, ordering the government to reduce its greenhouse gas emissions by at least 25% compared to 1990, by the end of 2020. This was based on an unwritten duty of care as well as on the positive obligations to protect human rights under articles 2 and 8 of the ECHR. According to the court,Footnote 60 even if governments ‘have a large degree of discretion to make the political considerations that are necessary … it is up to the courts to decide whether, in availing themselves of this discretion, the government and parliament have remained within the limits of the law by which they are bound’. Moreover, the Hoge Raad held that the decision ‘does not amount to an order to take specific legislative measures but leaves the State free to choose the measures to be taken in order to achieve’ this target. Shortly after the decision, the Dutch government announced an ‘action plan’ containing several climate initiatives for a value of three billion euros in spring 2020. Climate actions include inter alia the expansion of renewable energy, the reduction of coal-fired power stations, speed limits during daytime hours to control nitrogen dioxide emissions, and many more. An extension of the plan in scope and costs has already been announced.Footnote 61

17.4.3 The Republic of Ireland

In Friends of the Irish Environment v. Government of Ireland, the Cúirt Uachtarach na hÉirann (Supreme Court of the Republic of Ireland) brought an assertive judicial approach to climate policies. The Supreme Court overruled the Republic of Ireland’s National Mitigation Plan 2017 due to its lack of specificity, which does not clearly state how Ireland will achieve its 2050 goals. By putting the Plan to the side, the Cúirt Uachtarach made clear that ‘a compliant plan must be sufficiently specific as to policy over the whole period to 2050’.Footnote 62 While the government argued that ‘the Plan simply involves the adoption of policy, and that … courts have frequently indicated that matters of policy are not justiciable’, the court found that:

[m]ost legislation has some policy behind it … It may have been the policy of a particular government to introduce the legislation in question but once that legislation is passed it then becomes law and not policy … [W]hether the Plan does what it says on the statutory tin is a matter of law and clearly justiciable.

The government is currently working on a Climate Action and Low Carbon Development (Amendment) Bill 2021 (Ir.), which ‘will support Ireland’s transition to Net Zero and achieve a climate-neutral economy by no later than 2050’ in the form of a ‘legally binding framework with clear targets and commitments set in law’.Footnote 63

17.4.4 Germany

The German Bundesverfassungsgericht also took a position in favour of judicial engagement in its Neubauer et al. decision concerning inter alia the Bundesklimaschutzgesetz (Federal Climate Change Act). According to the court, the legislature has a wide margin of discretion in specifying the emission reduction objectives. This is based on the open formulation of a constitutional norm, notably article 20a of the Grundgesetz (the ‘Basic Law’, or constitution), which obliges the German State to protect the climate. It further held that it is not the judiciary’s task to derive concrete limits for global warming, as well as corresponding reduction targets from an open-worded constitutional norm. However, a norm must not run empty as a climate protection requirement. The court concluded that it is the judiciary’s task to ensure that the outer normative boundaries are respected. It found that proportionate and non-discriminatory allocation of greenhouse gas reduction burdens on an inter-temporal scale is necessary to prevent the violation of the young claimants’ constitutional rights. Consequently, it ordered the parliament to produce new concrete plans by 31 December 2022. The German government started the amendment process of the Bundesklimaschutzgesetz without delay and announced a programme for immediate action to support ambitious goals, alongside the draft legislation.Footnote 64

17.4.5 The United Kingdom

In a recent decision, the High Court of Justice has ordered the United Kingdom government to outline exactly how its net-zero policies – contained in the net-zero strategy published in October 2021 – will achieve the set emissions targets. In the R (on the application of Friends of the Earth) v. Secretary of State for Business Energy and Industrial Strategy case, the environmental groups Friends of the Earth, ClientEarth, and the Good Law Project challenged the government’s climate change strategy, arguing that it had illegally failed to include the necessary policies to cut down emissions.Footnote 65 While that case was not decided in favour of the claimants, the judgment stated that the government’s strategy lacked any explanation or qualification regarding how its emissions targets would be achieved. As such, the UK had failed to meet its obligations under the Climate Change Act 2008 (UK). Following the decision, the Department for Business, Energy and Industrial Strategy was required to prepare a report explaining how the policies in the net-zero strategy contribute towards emissions reductions and submit it to Parliament by April 2023.

17.4.6 Belgium

The decision in VZW Klimaatzaak v. Kingdom of Belgium in Belgium follows the rulings of the German and Dutch courts.Footnote 66 In this dispute, the Brussels Rechtbank van Eerste Aanleg (Court of First Instance) ruled that the federal State and the three regions jointly and individually breached their duty of care by failing to implement good climate governance, in turn leading to a violation of the Burgerlijk Wetboek (Civil Code) and to a violation of their human rights obligations under articles 2 and 8 of the ECHR. The Belgian court took a step further than the Dutch and German courts by recognising that 58,000 citizens, acting as co-plaintiffs, are in direct, personal, and real danger because of climate change. However, the court rejected a demand for the imposition of new carbon targets on the State, as this would have been a breach of the separation of powers:

If the judiciary is competent to establish the fault committed by the public authority, even in the exercise of its discretionary power, it cannot, on this occasion, deprive the latter of its political freedom nor substitute itself for it … The extent and pace of Belgium’s [greenhouse gas] emission reductions and the internal distribution of the efforts to be made in this direction are and will be the result of political arbitration in which the judiciary cannot interfere.Footnote 67

Therefore, the Brussels Rechtbank van Eerste Aanleg found a violation of human rights and domestic law, yet declined to issue an injunction ordering the government to set the specific emissions reduction targets that were requested by the plaintiffs.

17.4.7 The United States

To date, the United States maintains the largest number of pending climate change litigation cases in a legal system.Footnote 68 Being the first climate change case heard in the U.S. Supreme Court, Massachusetts v. Environmental Protection Agency gained significant national and international attention. Beginning in 2003, the U.S. Environmental Protection Agency (EPA) deemed that, under the Clean Air Act of 1970, it was not in its statutory authority to regulate greenhouse gas emissions on the basis of climate change concerns.Footnote 69 In a milestone 5:4 majority decision by the U.S. Supreme Court in 2007,Footnote 70 it was determined that greenhouse gases are in fact ‘air pollutants and the responsibility to regulate lies with the [Clean Air Act]’.Footnote 71 Therefore, the EPA does have the mandate to regulate greenhouse gas emissions standards for vehicles.Footnote 72. The outcome of this case is long-lasting in the sphere of climate change litigation and, having been the first of its kind, it marks a new path for enacting and enforcing climate change action. However, concerns regarding the sanctity of the separation of powers have grown ever more present, as this case set a precedent that legal action can be taken to determine the regulatory responsibilities and powers of bodies that fall under the legislative branch of government. This has contributed to concerns that climate change litigation paves a way for the judicial systems to impede other key government functions, disrupting the balance between powers. Recently, another critical decision was adopted in West Virginia v. Environmental Protection Agency, where the U.S. Supreme Court invoked, for the first time, the ‘major questions doctrine’ – according to which any issue with major economic or political consequences requires a ‘clear congressional authorisation’ – to limit the scope of powers granted to the EPA through the Clean Air Act.Footnote 73

There are many other climate litigation cases that have failed or are at a critical point. This is due to the judges’ determination that the judiciary has no responsibility or scope to rule on climate change. In the ongoing case of Juliana v. United States, 21 young claimants argue that the federal government has violated their constitutional rights by causing dangerous carbon dioxide (CO2) concentrations and seek relief for governmental action in regulating CO2 pollution.Footnote 74 The plaintiffs have leaned heavily on the ‘public trust’ doctrine and argued that the government’s commitment to the fossil fuel industry and lack of targeted climate action will only contribute to further environmental damages.Footnote 75 Concern for the separation of powers was underlined by the plaintiff’s request that the court ‘[o]rder[s] Defendants to prepare and implement an enforceable national remedial plan to phase out fossil fuel emissions and draw down excess atmospheric CO2 so as to stabilize the climate system’.Footnote 76 It was considered in Juliana that calling for compensation or relief for the damages caused by the governmental actions is completely different from demanding courts’ intervention in the (legislative) policy sphere: partly based on protecting the doctrine of the separation of powers, the plaintiffs’ requests were denied.Footnote 77

17.4.8 Switzerland

In Verein KlimaSeniorinnen Schweiz and Others,Footnote 78 the claimants in that case argued that the Swiss government has failed to reduce greenhouse gas emissions and thereby violated the human rights that are enshrined in the Swiss Bundesverfassung (Federal Constitution) and the ECHR. They requested a ruling asking federal agencies to develop a regulatory approach to achieve necessary emissions reduction. However, the Swiss Bundesgericht (Federal Court) decided that ‘[s]uch matters are to be advanced not by legal action, but by political means, for which purpose the Swiss system with its democratic instruments opens up sufficient opportunities’.Footnote 79 Therefore, the case was dismissed. Following this decision by the Bundesgericht, the claimants (the Association of Swiss Senior Women for Climate Protection) made a recourse to the European Court of Human Rights (ECtHR) in December 2020. They alleged inter alia that their right to effective access to a court (article 6(1)) and the right to an effective remedy (article 13) had been violated, as no national authority assessed the dispute and examined the substance of their complaint. The case was considered admissible at the preliminary stage and was communicated to the Swiss government in March 2021. In April 2022, the ECtHR announced that the case will be dealt with by the Grand Chamber, considering whether the case raises ‘a serious question affecting the interpretation of the [ECHR] or the Protocols thereto’, or whether ‘the resolution of a question before the Chamber might have an outcome inconsistent with a judgment previously delivered by the Court’.Footnote 80

17.5 Comparison and Recommendations

While considering the cases discussed in the previous section, one can begin to piece together that the judiciary’s role is not static or homogenous among different legal systems. Instead, it takes varied forms. This leads to the question of why, and how, the different interpretations of the doctrine of the separation of power might influence this role? Moreover, considering some of the more restrictive judgements, how can the doctrine of the separation of powers be less of an impediment and lead to more proactive judgements in the future?

17.5.1 Different Interpretations of the Doctrine of the Separation of Powers

As discussed in the first section of this chapter, the doctrine of the separation of powers has been developed, modified, interpreted, and implemented in different ways. Although the doctrine provides a classical division of the judicial, executive, and legislative powers of government, it is applied differently depending on the country and its constitution. When considering the case-law mentioned above, in Pakistan, it was possible for the judiciary to create a Climate Change Commission with various powers to ensure that the judgement was implemented. On the other hand, in Belgium, the judiciary went only so far: it found a human rights violation, but denied the injunction ordering the government to set specific emissions reduction targets. Therefore, the implementation and interpretation of the doctrine of the separation of powers influence the judiciary’s role in climate change litigation, and in the implementation of climate change policies.

Considering the different interpretations and implementations of the doctrine of the separation of powers, Colby and others have explained that ‘[w]hen comparing Juliana, Urgenda and [Friends of the Irish Environment], it is necessary to highlight that the separation of powers is interpreted differently across jurisdictions’. A paradigmatic example is provided by the United States, which has ‘a more rigid interpretation of the separation of powers than the Netherlands’. The same authors keep arguing that ‘the relation between the trias politica in the Netherlands is not a strict separation of powers but rather a balanced system in which the judiciary reviews the legality of governmental actions in individual cases’.Footnote 81

17.5.2 Recommendations for the Future

As long as the climate emergency continues, civil society will attempt to correct the functioning of the rule of law by bringing climate cases before the courts. As such, the role of the judiciary is becoming even more important when it comes to climate change litigation and the implementation of climate policies.

To find an appropriate balance between the doctrine of the separation of powers on the one hand and progressive judicial stances within the judicial power on the other, three recommendations are proposed:

  1. 1. Instead of justifying judicial law-making as a necessary intrusion in climate policy, a reconceptualisation of the doctrine of the separation of powers is needed. Considering that the doctrine was originally conceived as a protection against autocracy, the judiciary must act in its power to keep the balance. In fact, by adjudicating climate change cases, the judiciary is effectively occupying the void left by the other branches.

  2. 2. To give judges the possibility of making decisions based on the law and within their powers, countries should adopt national frameworks including remedies that are safe for judges in their respective jurisdictions.

  3. 3. Although domestic law differentiates between countries, it is important that ‘cross-pollination’ and dialogue continue between courts. This can be fostered through conferences, workshops, or judicial training in the field of climate change litigation.Footnote 82

17.6 Conclusion

There is a strong debate on the role of judges in implementing climate change policies. Between legal scholarship and the judiciary, the role of judges is classified differently. While some are in favour of a more activist judicial role in climate change litigation, and in implementing climate policies, others are in favour of policy discretion, and assign the implementation of climate policies to the legislative and executive bodies of government. However, most climate policies are not sufficiently meeting the climate targets that are urgently needed to ensure sustainability. An ever-growing number of climate change cases are being filed before judicial and quasi-judicial bodies, targeting these insufficient policies. As a result, the role of judges in climate change litigation is becoming increasingly important.

The question to be answered is whether it is possible to overcome the concern of breaching the doctrine of the separation of powers in climate change litigation. It is also important to consider if a common reference in this field can be found, which might offer some interesting arguments to be circulated in future climate change litigation in different legal systems. It is important to keep in mind that the doctrine of the separation of powers is applied and understood differently across the world. A divide emerges between EU countries, where courts tend to overcome the division of powers, and other countries, particularly the United States, which is notably the major emitter of greenhouse gases worldwide, where courts tend to respect the autonomy of the legislative and the executive in the matter of climate policy. Lastly, it is interesting to note that many of these cases have determined that action must be taken by States, but do not stipulate how legislative and governmental bodies are to do so.

18 Private Climate Litigation Enforcing Corporate Climate Responsibility through Dispute Resolution? A Taxonomy

18.1 Introduction

Why would anyone file a legal action about climate change against a company?Footnote 1 Prima facie, the idea of holding a corporation (or any other individual actor) accountable for the ‘super-wicked’ collective problem of anthropogenic climate change may indeed seem rather surprising.Footnote 2 And yet, at closer inspection, it is not as farfetched as it might at first seem. The increasing trend of climate lawsuits against private actors is underpinned by two main considerations. First, collectively and in some cases individually, large corporations have caused vast quantities of greenhouse gas emissions since the Industrial Revolution.Footnote 3 The emissions attributable to the largest industrial greenhouse gas emitters (sometimes referred to as ‘carbon majors’) rival or even exceed those of entire States.Footnote 4 Corporate activities have historically contributed substantially to anthropogenic climate change and continue to do so. Second, the role of the business sector is essential in the global transition to a ‘net-zero’ global economy by around mid-century: having a fair chance of achieving the Paris Agreement’s peak temperature goal entails ‘deep emission reductions in all sectors, a wide portfolio of mitigation options and a significant scaling up of investments in those options’.Footnote 5 Accordingly, both looking backward and looking forward, the role of the business sector is essential. And yet, the crucial query is whether there is a legal responsibility (that is, liability in case of non-fulfilment of such responsibility) for corporations to take (or to refrain from taking) certain actions concerning climate change, and if so, what such responsibility would look like more specifically. Clear answers cannot always be found in black-letter law, and so interested groups increasingly resort to ‘Private Climate Litigation’ (PCL). These cases often explore uncharted waters.

Throughout the three decades since the adoption of the United Nations Framework Convention on Climate Change (UNFCCC) in 1992, anthropogenic climate change has been approached as an issue to be dealt with by States, co-ordinated at the intra-governmental level under the aegis of the United Nations (UN). This State-centric approach assumes that States are willing to, and actually capable of, collectively ‘governing’ climate change, thereby achieving the ultimate goal of the UNFCCC – stabilising atmospheric greenhouse gas concentrations at a level that would prevent dangerous anthropogenic interference with the climate system (UNFCCC article 2) as specified through the Paris Agreement’s peak temperature goal.Footnote 6 However, global greenhouse gas emissions continue to reach new record levels each year.Footnote 7 The lack of sufficient action and ambition on the part of governments is expressed through their Nationally Determined Contributions (NDCs) under the Paris Agreement, which are far from being aligned with a pathway compatible with the Paris Agreement’s peak temperature goal; worse, emissions are projected to further increase based on current NDCs.Footnote 8 Accordingly, considerable doubt arises as to whether placing responsibility to address climate change on States alone – while neglecting the business sector – is justified.Footnote 9 The situation just described calls for taking a closer look at the responsibility of non-State actors,Footnote 10 and in particular corporations, whose enormous greenhouse gas emissions and global influence due to their economic power are comparatively ignored in the climate change context.Footnote 11

Traditionally, and although this has been contested, only States are viewed as subjects of international law, including in international climate change law.Footnote 12 Since the 1970s, numerous attempts to define corporate obligations under international law concerning environmental and social issues were made (for the most part, under the aegis of the UN), but failed.Footnote 13 Thus, by and large, corporations and other non-State actors have been ignored (or rather, excluded on purpose) as relevant actors with responsibilities to ‘address’ climate change at the international level (either through mitigation, adaptation, or any form of redress for loss and damage).Footnote 14 Notably, some large corporations and industry associations have lobbied heavily against the introduction of stronger climate regulations.Footnote 15 Due to the perceived lack of responsibility under international law, companies are primarily concerned with climate-related national regulations, which clearly apply to them directly. At the domestic and regional (European Union) levels, corporations (and in particular ‘multinational’ or ‘transnational’ enterprises) operate in a complex and highly fragmented web of technical regulations consisting mainly of carbon taxation schemes, product standards, corporate reporting obligations, and (increasingly, and especially in Europe) due diligence requirements.Footnote 16 And yet, although it would thus seem that corporations are largely unaffected by international climate change law, the ostensibly clear lines between the public sphere (where international law is undoubtedly applicable) and the private sphere (where this is less clear) are heavily blurred. The separation between the public and the private sectors is particularly delicate in the context of climate change. In fact, many of the world’s largest industrial corporate greenhouse gas emitters and the vast majority of the world’s remaining fossil fuel reserves are state-controlled.Footnote 17 This public/private divide is rarely discussed in climate law literature,Footnote 18 and will not be explored further here, but it is important to keep in mind in the broader context of PCL.Footnote 19

Together with growing regulatory activity across jurisdictions, financial market developments due to the broad recognition that climate change entails significant financial risks to corporate and global financial stability, and increasing shareholder engagement on climate change, PCL can be viewed as one of the main drivers of the increasing focus on ‘Corporate Climate Responsibility’, as the author has argued elsewhere.Footnote 20 And yet, as Bouwer observes, ‘the extent of private law’s potential contribution [to climate change litigation] tends to be overlooked’.Footnote 21 Aiming at contributing to filling this gap, this chapter offers a brief conceptualisation and taxonomy of PCL. The remainder of the chapter is structured as follows. The second section proposes a definition for the term PCL and identifies its main categories. The third section sketches various characteristics of PCL. The chapter then concludes by offering brief remarks as to whether PCL can be viewed as a tool for implementing climate change policies. The chapter does not by any means attempt to provide a comprehensive overview of the complex topic, but rather aims at systematising the phenomenon of PCL via select cases in order to outline a foundational taxonomy.

18.2 What is Private Climate Litigation?
18.2.1 Definition

Climate change litigation is a complex phenomenon that ‘cuts across multiple levels of governance, areas of law, and sectors of the economy’.Footnote 22 Despite a growing body of specialised literature,Footnote 23 no generally accepted definition of climate change litigation has emerged.Footnote 24 Proposed definitions range from ‘narrower’ conceptions, which require that climate change or greenhouse gases are an explicit (albeit not necessarily the only) subject-matter of the case,Footnote 25 to ‘broader’ definitions that also consider the motivation of the plaintiffs or that include cases where climate change is not the central issue,Footnote 26 but rather a peripheral one.Footnote 27 One may further distinguish between ‘strategic’ climate litigation, which aims at putting ‘bottom-up’ pressure (be it on public or private actors), and ‘non-strategic’ climate litigation where climate change represents a secondary component of a legal action.Footnote 28

While most cases are directed against State actors (public climate litigation), there is an increasing trend of legal actions in the private sphere (PCL). Notably, due to the blurred lines between the public and the private spheres, there may be cases where the allocation to either public or private climate litigation is debatable – notably, the categorisation as either public or private climate litigation is merely declaratory and does not have any legal consequences per se.

What does this chapter mean by PCL? Ganguly, Setzer, and Heyvaert define strategic private climate litigation as ‘cases launched with the explicit aspiration to influence corporate behaviour and strategies in relation to climate change’.Footnote 29 While such framing tends to focus on high-profile cases, the concept of PCL in this chapter is more encompassing in that it also includes ‘non-strategic’ cases as well as cases where climate change is rather a ‘secondary’ theme, at least to the extent that there is a reasonably clear (rather than just a remote) link to climate change in the plaintiffs’ claim. Whereas this last criterion (a reasonably clear link) leaves room for interpretation in some cases, PCL as defined here is focused on objective criteria (the legal status of the involved parties; the legal basis that the claim is based on – see Section 18.3) rather than subjective or ‘soft’ factors such as the motivation or even ‘ultimate goals’ of the plaintiffs. Of course, this is not to say that these ‘soft’ factors are not interesting or worthwhile exploring, but arguably they are of little help to identify a claim as PCL because: (a) they do not form part of the plaintiff’s legal argument and are thus not detailed in their claim, making them unidentifiable to the objective observer; and (b) where there is more than one plaintiff in the same legal action, their individual motivations are not necessarily identical. In the light of the foregoing, PCL here refers to legal actions (brought before either courts or non-judicial dispute resolution bodies) that have a reasonably clear link to climate change, are directed against a private actor, and have their legal basis in private law.

The following example illustrates how ‘non-strategic’ cases that do not necessarily put climate change front and centre of their claim may nevertheless qualify as PCL. In the vast amount of private litigation that has ensued worldwide in the aftermath of criminal proceedings in the so-called ‘Dieselgate’ scandal,Footnote 30 it is unlikely that plaintiffs were invoking climate change arguments to claim compensation for buying a vehicle with much less ‘green’ credentials than advertised by the seller. And yet, at their core, these disputes concern greenhouse gas emissions (in the Dieselgate context, vehicle emissions). There is thus a ‘reasonably clear link’ to climate change in such a case.

18.2.2 Main Categories

The ‘first wave’ of climate lawsuits against corporate emitters (spanning the period from around 2005 to 2015) was litigated mainly before United States courts. Key cases include Comer v. Murphy Oil USAFootnote 31 and Native Village of Kivalina v. ExxonMobil.Footnote 32 In both instances, the plaintiffs’ argument that the defendants (both companies in the energy sector) were responsible for climate-change-related injuries suffered by the plaintiffs was dismissed by the courts.Footnote 33 While this ‘first wave’ of climate change lawsuits against major greenhouse gas emitters in the United States remained largely unsuccessful (that is, from the perspective of the plaintiffs), a second, perhaps much stronger ‘wave’ began to build up across a broader range of jurisdictions.Footnote 34 The ‘first wave’ at least partially attempted to draw on strategies deployed in tobacco and asbestos litigation, whereas the second is characterised by a wider range of litigation strategies and arguments.Footnote 35 Early indicators such as the District Court of The Hague’s ruling in Milieudefensie and others v. Royal Dutch Shell (Milieudefensie) in May 2021 show an increased likelihood of success for plaintiffs.Footnote 36

At least two main categories of PCL cases can be identified.Footnote 37 The most obvious difference is the type of plaintiff, which influences the legal basis relied upon: from a company’s perspective, a claim is either brought by a ‘third party’ (meaning a legal subject that does not stand in a direct legal relationship, contractually or otherwise, with the company), or a ‘corporate constituency’ (meaning a legal subject that stands in a direct legal relationship, contractually or otherwise, with the company). We can thus differentiate between ‘external’ and ‘internal’ cases.

The first type of PCL is cases brought by or on behalf of individuals against large heavy-emitter corporations (here referred to as David v. Goliath cases, or ‘external’ cases). These lawsuits typically claim that companies have a (partial) responsibility for having contributed to climate change and seek redress in the form of compensation or – in some more recent cases – declaratory or injunctive relief (in particular, with a view to reducing the respondent’s greenhouse gas emissions). The second category is cases brought by ‘corporate constituencies’ (‘internal cases’, typically filed by shareholders or beneficiaries of pension funds). Often, but not always, this type of PCL takes place in a financial market context. The subject matter of these legal actions varies, but the main theme is allegations of inadequate disclosure and management of climate change-related financial risks.Footnote 38 The emergence of ‘internal’ cases is an expression of the fact that climate risks are ‘bidirectional’ for corporations.Footnote 39 On the one hand, major corporate emitters have significantly contributed to the creation of climate change risks and impacts. On the other, climate change has become such a serious issue that it also represents a financial risk to corporations, even threatening global financial stability.Footnote 40 The recognition of climate change risks as financial risks calls for adequate corporate governance measures (in particular, in the areas of risk management and disclosure), which in turn triggers fiduciary duties directors owe to the company they oversee.Footnote 41 A potential third category (which may not always fall under the definition of PCL as framed here, because it typically represents public enforcement) is ‘climate-washing’ cases, where corporations face legal challenges over their climate-related advertisements.Footnote 42

Data extrapolated from the two main (and interlinked) open-access databases on climate change litigation give indications as to the magnitude and geographical spread of PCL.Footnote 43 In September 2022, the first database listed 98 lawsuits against corporations (outside the United States) in a broad range of jurisdictions.Footnote 44 Within the United States, it is more difficult to ascertain the number of PCL cases, as the part of the first database on U.S. cases is organised by type of claim rather than the category of respondents.Footnote 45 The second database, which covers only non-U.S. cases, identifies a total of 276 results for litigation involving a corporate actor.Footnote 46 Although still by far outnumbered by cases in the public sphere, the data suggest that the share of PCL cases within climate change litigation as a whole is substantial and potentially growing. Notably, the amount of PCL cases would be much higher if cases with a rather ‘incidental’ (but nevertheless reasonably clear) link to climate change were to be included. Although the databases consulted are not searchable by the key characteristics of PCL as proposed here (type of respondent, legal basis, reasonably clear link to climate change), the above-mentioned figures are useful indicators.

18.3 Characteristics of Private Climate Litigation
18.3.1 Dispute Resolution Forum and Parties

Across jurisdictions PCL cases are brought not only before courts and supervisory authorities (whose decisions are typically subject to judicial review), but also before non-judicial bodies such as National Contact Points (NCPs) under the Organisation for Economic Co-operation and Development’s (OECD) Guidelines for Multinational Enterprises.Footnote 47 Further, climate change is perceived as an increasingly relevant subject matter in commercial arbitration, but due to confidentiality around these matters, there are no reliable data available for analysis.Footnote 48 Moreover, as a sign of growing shareholder engagement on climate change, there is a trend of ‘Say on Climate’ shareholder resolutions at annual general meetings.Footnote 49 Notably, raising an issue at an annual general meeting can represent a pre-litigation stage to a PCL claim.

On the side of the plaintiffs, the parties vary depending on the category of PCL. David v. Goliath or external cases are commonly brought by or on behalf of individuals (ranging from one single person to tens of thousands of citizens), with non-governmental organisations (such as foundations and associations) often serving as co-plaintiffs or supporters (that is, they are not formally parties to the proceedings).Footnote 50 In some instances, cases are even brought in the interest of future generations (in addition to the interest of currently living individuals).Footnote 51 ‘Internal’ cases, by contrast, are typically filed by shareholders, often in a derivative suit.Footnote 52 In a subset of cases, beneficiaries have brought legal actions against their pension funds, and in some cases the trustees of these pension funds, typically alleging inadequate transparency about climate-related risks.Footnote 53 Obviously, the applicable rules and precedents determine who has standing to bring a PCL claim, but within these boundaries, litigation strategy considerations are likely relevant as well to the selection of the plaintiffs. Further, some jurisdictions are rather favourable of bundling mass claims (for instance, the Netherlands, the United States) and third-party funding arrangements, while others are not. Instances where authorities launch public enforcement type of proceedings against companies (for instance, under corporate law, competition law, consumer protection law, or criminal law)Footnote 54 typically do not qualify as PCL as defined here. But in some instances, private plaintiffs will be entitled to attach their private claims to public enforcement types of proceedings (or public authorities may attach civil claims to civil proceedings), making the public/private distinction less clear-cut. Further, especially in some ‘anti-regulatory’ cases, corporations appear as the plaintiffs in climate change litigation.Footnote 55

On the side of the respondents, PCL is usually directed against corporations.Footnote 56 In some instances (especially in the United States), company directors and senior officers are targeted as co-respondents, typically facing allegations of having breached their fiduciary duties by inadequate disclosure and management of climate change risks.Footnote 57 Many PCL respondents operate in the energy and fossil fuel sectors, but plaintiffs have more recently broadened their spectrum to other greenhouse gas-intensive industries including manufacturing,Footnote 58 building materials (in particular cement),Footnote 59 finance (that is, organisations such as banks and pension funds),Footnote 60 transport (particularly aviation and shipping),Footnote 61 and animal agriculture.Footnote 62 Further, third-party litigation funders have begun to show interest in climate-related disputes.Footnote 63 These actors have a financial incentive and can choose to support either side of a dispute.

18.3.2 Remedies

Two main types of remedies sought by PCL plaintiffs can be distinguished. In most cases (both ‘external’ and ‘internal’ cases), plaintiffs seek financial compensation. For instance, plaintiffs claim a financial contribution to local measures needed to avert or mitigate imminent climate change-related harm (for instance, the construction of anti-flooding works).Footnote 64 In some recent cases filed in Europe, PCL plaintiffs have sought declaratory or injunctive relief such as a court order compelling a corporation to reduce its greenhouse gas emissions, or the production of internal documents in order to be able to assess the adequacy of climate-risk management.Footnote 65 Notably, compensation claims can be combined with seeking declaratory and injunctive relief in the same PCL action.Footnote 66

PCL plaintiffs explore largely uncharted waters, which has led to remarkable decisions in some instances. One main example is the unprecedented ruling of the District Court of The Hague in Milieudefensie. For the first time worldwide, in May 2021, a corporation (specifically, the top holding company of the Shell group) was ordered by a Court to reduce its greenhouse gas emissions – in this case, to reduce the carbon dioxide emissions (both direct and indirect emissions) of the entire group by at least 45% until 2030 (relative to 2019 levels).Footnote 67 The case builds on precedent in public-sector litigation against the Government of the Netherlands (Urgenda v. The Netherlands),Footnote 68 which points to potential ‘cross-fertilisation’ between PCL and public-sector climate litigation.

The pending case of Lliuya v. RWE is the first legal action in Germany concerning whether major greenhouse gas emitters – in this case, Germany’s largest producer of electricity – can be held liable for climate change-related damages.Footnote 69 The plaintiff, a Peruvian farmer threatened by the consequences of melting glaciers above his home town in the Andes, claims compensation proportional to the RWE’s alleged historical contribution to climate change (0.47% of global industrial emissions between 1751 and 2010). The court of first instance (the Landesgericht Essen) rejected the claim for lack of causation between the respondent’s greenhouse gas emissions and the alleged infringement of the plaintiff’s property rights.Footnote 70 However, in 2018, the appellate court (Oberlandesgericht Hamm) held in an interlocutory decision that the fact that there are multiple tortfeasors does not of itself exclude the individual (partial) responsibility of each single tortfeasor, provisionally accepting the plaintiff’s legal standpoint in this regard.Footnote 71

A further example showing the diversity of legal remedies in PCL is McVeigh v. REST, an Australian case heard before that country’s Federal Court.Footnote 72 In this matter, a member of one of Australia’s largest superannuation funds (the Retail Employees Superannuation Trust, or REST) alleged that the fund’s failure to provide information concerning its exposure to climate change risks and any actions taken to address them prevented the plaintiff (as a beneficiary of that fund) from making an informed judgement about the fund’s management and financial condition. The case was resolved through a settlement that included REST’s commitment to take various measures concerning climate risk management including by implementing a long-term objective to achieve a net-zero carbon footprint for the fund by 2050 and measuring, monitoring, and reporting outcomes on its climate-related progress and actions in line with the Recommendations of the Task Force on Climate-related Financial Disclosures (TCFD), among other things.Footnote 73

18.3.3 Legal Basis

As noted earlier, there are at present no specific legal obligations for corporations directly derived from international climate change law – with possible exceptions with regard to State-controlled entities. Accordingly, PCL plaintiffs (must) resort to their domestic laws as a primary legal basis for their claims. These domestic norms are localised primarily in tort law (in particular, the torts of negligence and nuisance) or its civil law equivalents (such as non-contractual law and delicts),Footnote 74 corporate law and financial market law, and potentially other areas such as consumer protection law or antitrust law.

And yet, international law may be applicable ‘indirectly’ in PCL. Domestic laws commonly provide for openly framed (or ‘open-ended’) standards that purposefully leave room for specification or interpretation. A primary example in the present context is the duty of care (or its equivalents in civil law systems).Footnote 75 Arguably, domestic laws do not comprehensively regulate corporate responsibility concerning climate change. Accordingly, at least in Europe, PCL plaintiffs seem to increasingly invoke other sources of the law to give more specific meaning to open standards in national law. Such ‘secondary’ sources include, in particular, international human rights law (in Europe, especially, the rights to life and to respect for private and family life under the European Convention on Human Rights) and international standards on business conduct (in particular, the UN Guiding Principles and the OECD Guidelines for Multinational Enterprises).Footnote 76 ‘Secondary’ here means that these sources of the law, albeit not directly enforceable against a corporation (either because they are considered to only apply to States or to be some sort of ‘soft law’), may well serve as interpretive sources to specify a broadly framed standard in domestic law; through this mechanism, they are applied ‘indirectly’ to specify corporations’ and directors’ legal obligations.Footnote 77 Due to differences between legal traditions, creating such ‘indirect’ effect through the judiciary may have more chances of success in some jurisdictions (such as in the Netherlands) than in others.Footnote 78 Generally, courts seem to be increasingly open to novel arguments. For instance, the New Zealand case of Smith v. Fonterra begs the question whether there may be a specific ‘common law climate tort’ that is forward-looking and preventive in nature.Footnote 79

18.3.4 Novel Legal Questions

PCL triggers novel, complex, and uncomfortable questions that most judges are not accustomed to answering. Typically, legal hurdles for PCL plaintiffs relate to justiciability (especially, but not only, in the United States), standing, and proof of causation and damage.Footnote 80 Obviously, additional practical hurdles exist, especially due to the high legal costs that such cases entail. In cases concerning compensation for climate change-related damages, the establishment of causation and damage commonly builds on findings of climate science.Footnote 81 Some commentators argue that the emerging science on extreme weather attribution may alleviate the burden of proof in this respect.Footnote 82 By contrast, in ‘internal’ cases, the question of causality refers to whether inadequate attention to or insufficient disclosure of climate related risks has led to a financial loss to shareholders or unduly puts a pension fund’s beneficiaries’ financial entitlements at risk.

Even if liability can be established in principle, questions remain as to its precise scope. For instance, does a corporation’s responsibility extend to the full range of direct and indirect emissions (scope one, scope two, scope three)? Does a parent company’s responsibility extend to all group emissions (that is, the emissions of all its subsidiaries)? These questions were addressed in substance – to the author’s knowledge for the first time by a court in this depth – in Milieudefensie. With respect to the first question, the court there affirmed that a company’s legal responsibility goes beyond its direct emissions (scope one), stating that there is an international consensus that corporations bear responsibilities concerning their scope three emissions.Footnote 83 Remarkably, the court further held that mainly due to its corporate policy setting position for the entire group, Royal Dutch Shell as the primary holding company is in principle responsible for all its subsidiaries’ greenhouse gas emissions.Footnote 84 Milieudefensie for the first time discusses the substance of key legal questions, which is in itself a major development. And yet, more research and case-law is necessary to delineate the contours of corporate climate responsibility more clearly.

As Bouwer points out, ‘[PCL] requires judges to engage in deeply normative processes, for instance in determining what might be reasonable, or the extent to which parties might be required to foresee problems’.Footnote 85 As for now, commentators are divided in their opinions about PCL. For some, PCL (and climate change litigation generally) is a useful tool to put pressure on both heavy corporate emitters and the directors of those companies – even more so considering that regulatory efforts in this direction seem difficult to achieve.Footnote 86 Others view going after individual emitters to be a pointless effort, among other reasons arguing that any corporate action following a lost lawsuit (say, a court-ordered reduction in greenhouse gas emissions) will be offset by the actions of competitors.Footnote 87 As the ‘wave’ of PCL can be expected to grow and develop further, this controversy will certainly continue.

18.4 Conclusion

International law and national climate regulations barely address the responsibilities of corporations and other non-State actors. And yet, it is impossible to ignore the crucial role of corporations (and their key corporate governance constituencies including the board of directors, shareholders, and others) in the transition to a global net-zero economy by mid-century. Undoubtedly, corporations are increasingly affected by the growing focus on corporate climate responsibility. PCL is one of the drivers of this development, in addition to increasing regulatory activities, shareholder engagement on climate change, and the growing recognition of unprecedented climate change-related financial risks. In that sense, PCL points to (and potentially contributes to filling) an accountability gap for corporations.

When thinking about the effectiveness of PCL to implement climate policies,Footnote 88 one key aspect to consider is that, as is well-known, judicial proceedings may take years until a final decision is rendered. For instance, the matter of Lliuya v. RWE has reportedly suffered substantial delays due to the COVID-19-related inability of German judges to travel to Peru.Footnote 89 Against the need to achieve substantial reductions of greenhouse gases by 2030 in order to keep somewhat realistic chances of limiting temperature rise under the Paris Agreement’s peak temperature goal,Footnote 90 can litigation deliver results fast enough, even if the plaintiffs succeed? Or is the judicial process simply too slow in the face of escalating climate change impacts, rendering PCL a moot exercise? Be that as it may, recent examples show that quicker outcomes are possible through settlements,Footnote 91 and that the effectiveness of PCL may be increased by courts declaring their orders to be immediately effective.Footnote 92 Further, non-judicial bodies such as NCPs under the OECD Guidelines for Multinational Enterprises may provide ‘results’ more swiftly.

As regards the need for further research, in addition to the multitude of legal questions triggered by PCL, more systematic research on PCL extrapolated from national law settings would be useful to better grapple with the phenomenon of PCL from a comparative point of view. Such research would benefit from improved accuracy of the existing climate change litigation databases. On a final note, while only time will tell whether PCL will contribute to deliver on what is probably its main purpose, to affect corporate behaviour as regards climate change, we can conclude that this type of litigation has reached a level of sophistication and likelihood of success that corporations and diligent directors certainly cannot ignore.

19 The International Court of Justice Facing the Existential Threat of Climate Change What Legal Questions and for Whom?

19.1 Introduction

The data speak for themselves: to limit the increase in global average temperature (well) below 2°C, carbon dioxide (CO2) emissions need to decline by about 25% with respect to 2010 levels by 2030, and reach net zero around 2070. Deep reductions are required for non-CO2 emissions as well.Footnote 1 Contrary to what would be necessary, the projected total greenhouse gas emissions level in 2030 is expected to be some 16% higher than in 2010.Footnote 2

As summarised in a report issued by the Secretariat of the Conference of the Parties (COP) serving as meeting of the Parties to the Paris Agreement in September 2021, reported data urgently demand a significant increase in the level of ambition of nationally determined contributions (NDCs) thus far adopted by the State parties by 2030 in order to attain the emission levels suggested by the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC) for keeping the increase in the global average temperature well below 2°C, and possibly limiting it to 1.5°C.Footnote 3 Indeed, even if all States fully implemented their current NDCs, the trend would continue well above the 1.5–2°C target. The future does not bring good news – as the United Nations (UN) Environment Programme’s Emission Gap Report 2021 shows that, despite the pledge that COVID-19 recovery spending would prioritise a transformation towards a low-carbon economy, recovery funds have been insufficiently supporting clean energy and natural capital investments.Footnote 4

Given this state of affairs, it does not come as a surprise that in the last few years many civil society movements have wisely started strategic lawsuits against governmentsFootnote 5 in the national tribunals of several States,Footnote 6 as well as in international human rights courts and treaty bodies, to complain about insufficient efforts to cut greenhouse gas emissions. The aim of such legal actions is putting pressure on States to accelerate efforts and adopt effective mitigation and adaptation measures to address a phenomenon that does not leave more time to act. For this reason – as is well known – plaintiffs usually do not ask national tribunals to condemn governments to seek reparations for injuries caused by State inaction to prevent climate change, but only demand to order the improvement of efforts to mitigate climate change and bring emissions in line with the obligations stemming from the United Nation Framework Convention on Climate Change (UNFCCC) and the Paris Agreement.

An identical rationale is in the drawback of the debate on the utility of a judgment or an advisory opinion of the International Court of Justice (ICJ) on States’ obligations and responsibility as regards climate change. Many studies have also highlighted the positive implications of an ICJ advisory opinion or judgment for strategic ligation in national and international tribunals and treaty bodies, sometimes confusing it with the contribution an ICJ judgment or advisory opinion may give to resolving disputes between States in this same field. The purpose of this study is first to distinguish these different playgrounds and second to elaborate on how a prospective ICJ stance on the existence and content of some rules of international law may effectively help national tribunals and international tribunals and treaty bodies to overcome the legal arguments usually governments oppose to contest jurisdiction, or otherwise rebut the plaintiffs’ claims. While several studies have already dealt with this topic,Footnote 7 these have not clearly taken into account the nature of the appeals brought before national and international tribunals and treaty bodies, as civil rather than constitutional or other complaints, as well as the rationale underpinning such strategic litigation. This has resulted in a missing link between, on the one hand, questions that it is suggested the ICJ should properly deal with in a prospective judgment or advisory opinion, and on the other hand clarifications on the existence and scope of international rules that national and international tribunals as well as treaty bodies apply to resolve disputes.

This study is even more necessary in the light of the fact that in March 2023 the UN General Assembly adopted a resolution concerning the respect for an Advisory Opinion of the International Court of Justice on the Obligations of States in respect of Climate Change, upon a diplomatic initiative by Vanuatu.Footnote 8 The UN General Assembly asked the Court to provide an opinion on the following:

Having particular regard to the Charter of the United Nations, the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights, the International Covenant on Economic, Social and Cultural Rights, the United Nations Framework Convention on Climate Change, the Paris Agreement, the United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea, the duty of due diligence, the rights recognized in the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, the principle of prevention of significant harm to the environment and the duty to protect and preserve the marine environment, (a) What are the obligations of States under international law to ensure the protection of the climate system and other parts of the environment from anthropogenic emissions of greenhouse gases for States and for present and future generations? (b) What are the legal consequences under these obligations for States where they, by their acts and omissions, have caused significant harm to the climate system and other parts of the environment, with respect to: (i) States, including, in particular, small island developing States, which due to their geographical circumstances and level of development, are injured or specially affected by or are particularly vulnerable to the adverse effects of climate change? (ii) Peoples and individuals of the present and future generations affected by the adverse effects of climate change?Footnote 9

Our study will thus seek to understand how some of the questions the Court has been requested to answer may impact pending and prospective cases before national and international tribunals and treaty bodies.

19.2 The International Court of Justice’s Contribution to Inter-State Disputes on the Violation of the No-Harm Principle

It is not disputed that the ICJ will not be, in the near future, called upon to resolve disputes concerning the violation of the obligation to adopt mitigation measures as they stem from conventional rules (UNFCCC and Paris Agreement). Indeed, at the time of their ratification no States Parties, except for the Netherlands,Footnote 10 have adopted a written instrument that, in respect of any dispute concerning the interpretation or application of climate change agreements, recognises the jurisdiction of the ICJ as compulsory, in relation to any party accepting the same obligation.Footnote 11

By contrast, an inter-State dispute based on the violation of the customary no-harm rule, imposing upon any State the obligation not to allow activities under its jurisdiction or control that impair the territory and environment of other States, may be brought before the ICJ on the basis of those declarations that recognise the jurisdiction of the Court as compulsory (Article 36(2) of the ICJ Statute).Footnote 12 The ICJ has iterated the existence of such a rule on several occasions, and in the Pulp Mills on the River Uruguay case held that this was an obligation of due diligence, as ‘[a] State is … obliged to use all the means at its disposal in order to avoid activities which take place in its territory, or in any area under its jurisdiction, causing significant damage to the environment of another State’.Footnote 13 This provides the Court with the opportunity to take a clear stance on interesting questions concerning the application of the principle to climate change.

First, the Court could clarify whether the no-harm rule is applicable to harm deriving from lawful activities that cause the emission of greenhouse gases. In particular, the Court should clarify whether in the case of harm arising from climate change a sufficient causal nexus can be considered to exist between the alleged and ineffective defendant State’s conduct and the injury suffered by the complaining State, triggering the international responsibility of the defendant State. Second, in the case of a positive answer, the Court should consider the applicable standard of due diligence.Footnote 14 Third, in a contentious case the Court could be called to clarify the consequences of the violation of the no-harm rule.Footnote 15

Furthermore, any ICJ judgment would have to deal with the complex questions of the division of responsibility among States and the content of the obligation to provide reparation for injury caused by climate change.Footnote 16 This entails explaining whether and how, in the case of wrongful conduct based on raising global temperatures, involving a plurality of States, article 47 of the 2001 International Law Commission’s Draft Articles on Responsibility of States for Internationally Wrongful Acts (ARSIWA) is applicable,Footnote 17 or rather other customary rules have developed, superseding article 47, as some scholars argue.Footnote 18 As is well known, article 47 provides that, where there is a plurality of responsible States for the same wrongful act, each State is in principle separately responsible for attributable conduct.Footnote 19

Moreover, the Court will have to assess what the content of the obligation to provide reparation for injury is; namely, whether there is an obligation to make full reparation, as established in customary international law codified in the ARSIWA, or whether this duty is superseded in climate cases by a new rule establishing an obligation to provide alternative forms of reparation, but not necessarily full reparation.Footnote 20

19.3 Strategic Litigation before National and International Jurisdictions and Treaty Bodies

Although an ICJ judgment on an inter-State controversy concerning climate change would be challenging and interesting for international scholars and the development of international law, this remains a theoretical exercise rather than a concrete possibility, at least in the near future. According to some scholars, it wouldn’t even be desirable to enter such a dispute, as no complaint could be brought against the main greenhouse gas emitters, namely the United States – which withdrew its acceptance of the ICJ’s jurisdiction after judgment was handed down in ‘Military and Paramilitary Activities in and Against Nicaragua’ – the People’s Republic of China (PRC), and Russia, which have never accepted the compulsory jurisdiction of the Court.Footnote 21

Be they convincing or not, these reasons make it preferable to set aside the hypothesis of an inter-State dispute and to focus on the impact that an ICJ advisory opinion may actually have on noteworthy strategic litigation currently ongoing in national and international tribunals and treaty bodies. An impressive number of claims have indeed been brought before national tribunals against governments. Some cases have recently been decided by human rights treaty bodies and others are pending in international tribunals. Thus, it is more likely that an ICJ advisory opinion concerning the interpretation of well-selected rules of international law actually support national and international tribunals that are confronted with the new challenge of climate change.

Appeals lodged before national tribunals usually concern the civil liability of governments towards individuals or private legal persons, particularly non-governmental organisations (NGOs), because of their ineffective policies to counter climate change or the unconstitutionality of laws implementing the State international obligation to limit greenhouse gas emissions, which are considered too vague, and thus not in conformity with constitutional obligations (where applicable) to protect individuals as well as the natural environment or the constitutional individual right to a healthy environment. Before appeals, national tribunals must frequently face similar legal obstacles. Governments usually contest the locus standi of the claimants, especially their victims’ status, the competence of the tribunal to deal with the complaints – mainly by invoking the political question doctrineFootnote 22 – as well as the impossibility of establishing the State contribution to climate change or its irrelevance, given that global warming involves several States. However, while several claims have been unsuccessful, national tribunals have sometimes overcome defensive arguments, duly adopting historical judgments.

Positively, the Netherlands’ Hoge Raad (Supreme Court) compelled the Dutch Government in its Urgenda ruling to cut al least of 25% of its greenhouse gas emissions a result of a duty of care construed from the European Convention on Human Rights (ECHR).Footnote 23 The German Bundesverfassungsgericht (Federal Constitutional Court) held the provisions of the Bundes-Klimaschutzgesetz (Federal Climate Protection Act), governing national climate targets and annual emission amounts allowed until 2030, incompatible with the basic constitutional rights of the plaintiffs to the extent that they lack sufficient specifications for further emission reductions from 2031 onwards, making reductions after 2030 necessary to avoid infringing practically every individual constitutional freedom.Footnote 24 The French Conseil d’État set aside the implicit refusal of the French Government to take appropriate measures to curb greenhouse gas emissions produced in France and ordered the Government to adopt all necessary measures to bring greenhouse gas emissions into conformity with reduction objectives set forth in the Code de l’énergie (‘Energy Code’, Law 100–4) and in annex I to EU Regulation 2018/842 before 31 March 2022.Footnote 25 The Supreme Court of the Republic of Ireland quashed the Government’s National Mitigation Plan as inconsistent with the Climate Action and Low Carbon Development Act 2015,Footnote 26 as this law failed to specify the way to achieve the ‘transition to a low carbon, climate resilient, and environmentally sustainable economy’ by 2050. The Court held the Plan ‘excessively vague or aspirational’.Footnote 27

Negatively, the Swiss Bundesgericht (Federal Court) dismissed the appeal of the ‘association of climate-seniors of Switzerland’ and four elderly plaintiffs because it denied their status of victims. The Court there found that the plaintiffs were not sufficiently affected in terms of individual rights as protected under the ECHR, especially the right to life and the right to respect for private and family life, in order to assert an interest worthy of protection within the meaning of the Bundesgesetz über das Verwaltungsverfahren (Federal Law on Administrative Procedure).Footnote 28

The Norwegian Høyesterett (Supreme Court) applied the political question doctrine to limit the judicial review of laws and governmental legislative acts concerning environmental protection and established a very high threshold for review. Indeed, the Court found that article 112 of the Grundlov (Constitution), which embeds the right to a healthy environment, can be invoked directly before national tribunals in cases concerning the alleged unconstitutionality of legislative acts, but limited judicial review to cases where the claimants allege that the Parliament grossly neglects its duties under article 112. On the basis of such a restrictive interpretation, the Supreme Court upheld the validity of a royal decree awarding petroleum production licences concerning the Norwegian continental shelf in the Barents Sea.Footnote 29

The lawsuits lodged with international tribunals and treaty bodies are all concerned with the alleged violation of individual rights, including the rights to life, private and family life, cultural identity and the right not to be discriminated protected under human rights treaties.Footnote 30 These have encountered common procedural and substantial obstacles. Frequently, the plaintiffs have not exhausted domestic remedies before acting in international fora, justifying the omission on the basis of various claims. In fact, first, because the claimants act simultaneously against several States, exhausting domestic remedies would allegedly require too much time and money. Second, as global warming is rapidly increasing, no time would be left to resort to domestic litigation. Another recurrent difficulty is that several plaintiffs are not under the territorial jurisdiction or control of the States they sue in international human rights tribunals or treaty bodies. To date, only two cases have been decided, that is, Sacchi et al. v. Argentina et al. in the UN Committee on the Right of the Child (UNCRC),Footnote 31 and Daniel Billy et al. v. Australia in the UN Human Rights Committee (UNHRC). Although the UNCRC dismissed the claim based on non-exhaustion of domestic remedies,Footnote 32 it adopted a very forward-looking interpretation of the notion of ‘jurisdiction’ under article 2 of the Convention on the Rights of the Child, leaving the door open to future climate complaints.Footnote 33 The UNHRC considered that by failing to discharge its positive duty to implement adequate adaptation measures and protect the plaintiffs’ home, private life and family, Australia violated their rights under article 17 of the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights. Likewise, the UNHRC found that Australia’s failure to adopt timely adequate adaptation measures to protect the plaintiffs’ collective ability to maintain their traditional way of life and to transmit to future generations their culture, traditions, and use of land and sea resources discloses a violation of the State positive obligation to protect the right to enjoy a minority culture (article 27). The UNHRC duly recommended that Australia not only provide the plaintiffs with adequate compensation for the harm suffered, but also that it engage in meaningful consultations with their communities to conduct need assessments and uphold and effectively improve measures to secure the safe existence of communities in their islands, including measures to prevent similar violations in the future.

19.4 Issues the International Court of Justice Should Deal With
19.4.1 General International Law and Future Generations

Various studies have identified rules whose existence and content an ICJ advisory opinion should clarify. These span the general principles of international (environmental) law – such as intergenerational equity,Footnote 34 the no-harm rule,Footnote 35 international co-operation, public participation in climate decision-making, and common but differentiated responsibility – and conventional rules establishing the obligation for States to reduce polluting emissions and to provide financial support, technology transfer, and capacity building to developing States.Footnote 36 However, on a closer analysis, taking into account the aim of strategic litigation as well as the nature of legal actions brought before national and international tribunals and treaty bodies, the Court should take into consideration only a few rules to advance national and international proceedings.

Fundamentally, as provided in the Request for an Advisory Opinion on the Obligations of States in respect of Climate Change, States should request the ICJ to clarify the nature and scope of their obligations to protect the rights of present and future generations against the adverse effects of climate change. The Court should thus shed light on the question whether the principle of intergenerational equity has only a moral value or if it has also become a general principle of international law.Footnote 37 The Court might further consider whether this is at least a general principle common to several domestic legal systems under article 38(1)(c) of the ICJ Statute, given that an increasing number of national constitutions provide for the public authorities’ duty to protect future generations.Footnote 38

In its Advisory Opinion on the ‘Legality of the Threat or Use of Nuclear Weapons’, the Court observed that ‘the environment is not an abstraction but represents the living space, the quality of life and the very health of human beings, including generations unborn’.Footnote 39 As the destructive power of nuclear weapons cannot be contained in either space or time,Footnote 40 the Court held that, although treaties relating to the protection of the environment have not deprived a State of the exercise of its right to self-defence under international law nor have prohibited the use of nuclear weapons, they have nonetheless limited the lawfulness of military action, as the obligations stemming from environmental treaties have to be taken into account when assessing whether the use of armed force is consistent with the principle of necessity and proportionality.Footnote 41 Without excluding the lawfulness of the threat or use of nuclear weapons in an extreme circumstance of self-defence, where the very survival of a State is at stake,Footnote 42 the Court held that States believing they can exercise nuclear self-defence have to remember the catastrophic effects of such arms on present and future generations in order to make a proportionate use.Footnote 43

In its Gabčíkovo-Nagymaros Project ruling, the ICJ recognised that the protection of the natural environment is an essential interest of the State within the meaning of article 25 of the ARSIWA.Footnote 44 Indeed, the Court endorsed the concept of ‘sustainable development’ and upheld the existence of an obligation to interpret and apply treaties taking into account norms and standards set forth in several environmental conventions and soft law documents.Footnote 45 The ICJ also observed that these norms and standards are the result of new scientific insights and of a growing awareness about the risks caused to present and future generations by decades of anthropogenic interference with nature.Footnote 46

The Court has, therefore, taken into account the interest in the protection of future generations on two occasions, stopping short of clarifying whether this only reflects an ethical stance or represents a binding rule under international law. Nor did the Court consider what obligations a binding norm on the rights of future generations would entail for States other than that of interpreting international law in conformity with environmental treaties.Footnote 47

Furthermore, in its advisory opinion the Court should clarify whether a new customary rule laying down the right to a clean, healthy and sustainable environment as an individual human right has come into existence. In July 2022, the UN General Assembly adopted a historical resolution affirming the individual human right to a sustainable environment.Footnote 48 The Court’s endorsement of this important resolution would be a step further in the consolidation of a customary rule.

19.4.2 Obligations Stemming from the Paris Agreement

The ICJ advisory opinion should also shed light on the Paris Agreement’s obligations to hold the increase in global average temperature well below 2°C, and possibly 1.5°C, above pre-industrial levels under article 2 of the Paris Agreement,Footnote 49 and to consequently adopt consistent NDCs.

The nature of the obligation to contain temperature increase within sustainable levels is unclear vis-à-vis whether it is a best effort obligation or one of collective result, to be achieved via proportionate co-operation between all States. Scholars usually qualify the duty as a due diligence obligation,Footnote 50 while judicial practice in at least a couple of States seems to support the idea of an obligation of result to be achieved collectively. Indeed, both the Dutch Hoge Raad and German Bundesverfassungsgericht have rebutted the defensive thesis that taking national mitigation measures in conformity with governmental international obligations would be useless if other States do not act seemingly, or that a State contribution to climate change is limited and therefore no responsibility could stem from it. Both courts held that what matters is that each State does its part, and that the global nature of climate change does not affect a State obligation to take climate action.Footnote 51 While, at first, this seems to be a merely political reply, nevertheless it may also be seen as reading an interpretation of the nature of the duty stemming from article 2 of the Paris Agreement as an obligation of result to be achieved collectively.

As concerns the related obligation to adopt consistent NDCs, the ICJ should address the question whether this is only a procedural duty, simply requiring the adoption of mitigation plans, irrespective of their content, or whether it is a duty that also implies the adoption of mitigation plans that contribute substantially to achieving the general objective of keeping the increase in global average temperature well below 2°C, and possibly 1.5°C, above pre-industrial levels, under article 2 of the Paris Agreement. In order to satisfy such a request, the Court should explain whether in interpreting the obligation to adopt NDCs, as laid down in article 4(2) of the Paris Agreement, subsection 3 of the same provision – governing the obligation to adopt NDCs that reflect State parties’ highest ambitions – may limit State freedom to draft NDCs. In this respect, it is also important to clarify whether the employment of the effet utile principle, positing a presumption of usefulness in interpreting legal norms, may be relied upon to justify a reading of article 4(2) that warrants satisfaction of the Paris Agreement’s main purpose under article 2.

19.4.3 The Notion of ‘Jurisdiction’ under Human Rights Treaties

Litigation pending in international human rights tribunals and at least one already decided by the UNCRC has been commenced not only by individuals under the jurisdiction and control of the defendant State, but also by individuals outside the State of location, residence, or nationality and its control. Thus, the question arises whether such claimants can be considered under the jurisdiction of the defendant State for the purpose of human rights treaties, and it requires clarification by the ICJ.

While some human rights tribunals are not in favour of an excessive enlargement of the notion of ‘jurisdiction’, others have already endorsed a reading of this notion that includes individuals who are not within the territory or under the control of the defendant State, but claim to be injured by its ineffective activities against climate change and environmental degradation. Particularly, the Inter-American Court of Human Rights (IACtHR) and the UNCRC have supported an extensive interpretation of the notion of jurisdiction.

The IACtHR has held that, for the purposes of the American Convention on Human Rights,Footnote 52 when transboundary damage occurs that affects treaty-based rights, the persons whose rights are violated are under the jurisdiction of the State of origin if there is a causal link between the act that originates within its territory and human rights infringements outside its territory.Footnote 53 In the opinion of the Court, in the case of transboundary damages, the exercise of jurisdiction by a State is grounded in the understanding that the State where the activities are carried out has effective control over them and is in a position to prevent transboundary harm.Footnote 54

The UNCRC has endorsed the position of the IACtHR, adding that, for the scope of the notion of jurisdiction, the alleged harm victims suffer must be reasonably foreseeable by a State party at the time when wrongful conduct takes place.Footnote 55

19.5 How an International Court of Justice Advisory Opinion May Support National and International Tribunals

Once introduced in the domestic legal systems of States that do not yet recognise them at the constitutional level, the general principle of international law on intergenerational equity and the customary rule on the individual human right to a clean, healthy and sustainable environment might be relied upon by national tribunals to interpret domestic law in conformity with them, where general international law ranks higher than national legislation. Moreover, constitutional courts might declare national legislation unconstitutional when not in conformity with such international norms.

An ICJ advisory opinion interpreting the obligation to adopt NDCs so as to impose on States effective mitigation policies might allow constitutional courts in States where treaties have some constitutional bearing to declare vague domestic laws adopted to implement ineffective NDCs not in conformity with constitutional law. Furthermore, it would be important for the ICJ to endorse a reading of the obligation to adopt NDCs that really contributes to achieving the UNFCCC and Paris Agreement’s main aims of stabilising greenhouse gas emissions at sustainable levels. To this end, the Court might argue that reduction targets recommended by the IPCC manifest the consensus of the Members States,Footnote 56 as the Supreme Court of the Netherland stated in Urgenda.Footnote 57 This would provide national tribunals with a powerful tool to rebut the argument States have frequently put forward against the competence of national judges, namely the political question doctrine. The ICJ would in doing so neither overstep its role nor intrude in the law-making process and would compel States to acknowledge their responsibility.

Lastly, an ICJ pronunciation on the extraterritorial application of human rights treaties as those adopted by the IACtHR and the UNCRC would suggest to international tribunals and treaty bodies a uniform path to follow when they are asked to interpret the notion of jurisdiction in the case of harm caused by global warming. If the Court favoured an extensive interpretation of the notion of jurisdiction, it would encourage cautious tribunals, such as the European Court of Human Rights (ECtHR), to support an extensive view without, at the same time, fully embracing the so called ‘functional’ approach to the notion of jurisdiction. The ECtHR has indeed adopted a case-by-case interpretation of extraterritoriality, shaping it along the lines of the specific features of the dispute. On the other hand, the fear that such a reading may open the door to an excessive number of lawsuits before international tribunals and treaty bodies might convince the ICJ not to support it. However, there are remedies to this side effect. Notably, the ECtHR can rely on the pilot judgment procedure to contain the multiplier effect of lawsuits addressing human rights violations stemming from global warming. If the applicants were to complain about the existence in a State of a systemic policy deficiency to reduce greenhouse gas emissions, according to its Rules of Procedure,Footnote 58 the Court could – even ex officio – postpone the examination of all actions arising from the same plea against the same State pending the adoption of remedial measures by that responsible State. This would help the Court to manage the claims and limit the submission of further lawsuits at least against the same State, in line with the rationale that underpins strategic litigation in national courts. In fact, if the Court found a violation of the ECHR, it should then indicate the type of reparatory measures (both individual and general) that a defendant State must adopt to bring a dysfunction in line with that Convention.

19.6 Conclusion

This contribution has provided an attempt to identify what international law rules the ICJ should necessarily take into account, among the many it was asked to consider in the Request for an Advisory Opinion on the Obligations of States in respect of Climate Change, to make a real contribution to strategic climate litigation in national and international fora. In particular, it would be urgent for the Court to provide an advisory stance on the nature of the duty to curb carbon emissions via NDCs, its extraterritorial effects and implications for future generations. In all likelihood, not all States would be ready to submit to an opinion of the ICJ on essential climate issues. This is particularly the case for the conventional rule obliging States to adopt NDCs, and the notion of jurisdiction under human rights treaties. States might prefer keeping the content of rules on NDCs and extraterritoriality undefined to be free and adopt softer mitigation measures that are less demanding on private (energy) companies operating within their jurisdiction, as well as for individuals living there.

20 ‘The Story Is Part of the Success’ Narrating Climate Change

Stories matter for the Earth.Footnote 1

20.1 Introduction

Climate change is not only about science, and science is not all we need to mitigate climate change. Science has little impact on how societies perceive themselves and the world around them, and thus it has little direct impact on communal and individual behaviours and attitudes. It is a social discourse shaped by dominant social attitudes and cultural convictions, fashions, politics, and media content that has the most significant impact on a broader social response to climate change. Ultimately, these are stories we tell that inform our attitudes, motivate our actions, and have the potential to influence policies.

Enric Sala, the conservationist and former academic, confesses that it was only when he left academia that he realised that having enough information does not necessarily lead leaders, policymakers, or broader society to making rational decisions. Neither do increasingly alarming reports on climate change and environmental degradation spur people into action. There are two basic assumptions Sala points to that are crucial for thinking about climate action. The first one is that climate change action is, to a large degree, about communication, which so far has seemed insufficient and ineffective. The second assumption is that simply stating the facts is far from adequate.Footnote 2 Irrespective of the evidence, gravity, or relevance of the information, as Sala insists, ‘[e]nticing both a lifestyle and policy decisions that diminish climate change needs more than communicating facts’.Footnote 3

However, climate change is a complex problem to communicate. Talking about environment and climate does involve a lot of science. It is not easy to translate scientifically understood urgency into a call for action to be taken seriously by individuals for whom climate change is slow and unobservable on an everyday basis. If something cannot be seen or fully recognised, is not relatable or contextualised, it is unlikely to engage an audience on a personal level and trigger emotions that may motivate action. If we do act, our action does not usually bring immediate results and in this sense is meaningless. If talking about climate change is limited to communicating abstract and distant risks, we are discouraged from listening critically and engaging. After all, people prefer to leave difficult and unrelatable problems, even those considered important, to be taken care of at a higher, collective, and non-personal level. We are content to think government will know what to do, will take proper and informed action and implement relevant public policies, even though we know well that public policies are driven by the preferences and demands of citizens. Finally, talking about climate has become a politically polarised issue, and is often considered biased, manipulative, and divisive, not only along the line separating those who believe in science from those who distrust it. As such, narrating climate change to encourage deep reflection, change thinking patterns, inspire action, and, ultimately, decision-making processes, has become a major challenge in responding to climate change.Footnote 4

Over the years numerous analyses of environmental discourse have been developed, approaching the subject from various political, sociological, and cultural perspectives.Footnote 5 Particular approaches to nature have emerged as the main elements defining and differentiating these approaches. Examining the existing literature, Gustafsson identified three most common approaches to nature:Footnote 6 (1) nature narrated as a resource for society; (2) nature as an ethical entity and the sources of emotional and moral values; and (3) nature as an object of knowledge. Within these views of nature, particular environmental discourses emerge: (1) the sustainable development discourse and the discourse on ecological modernity; (2) the Arcadian discourse and the poetic discourse (with humanity being outside or part of nature respectively); and (3) scientific discourse and the ecosystem discourse.Footnote 7

Similarly, there are various approaches to communicating science and different forms of public engagement. They include the contextual model or the public engagement model,Footnote 8 the lay expertise model,Footnote 9 the fear and security argument,Footnote 10 or the economic argument.Footnote 11 These models offer different opportunities and challenges in their attempt to expand the way we understand, deal with, and frame science communication with the public.Footnote 12 This chapter focuses on an approach that still does not have a unified or coherent theoretical framework, but has been proven to engage audiences, allow diversity, accept abstraction, and encourage multiple interpretation and creativity. Assuming that most effective communication incorporates social and cultural contexts, and that climate change is a societal and cultural story, as Max Boykoff explains,Footnote 13 the chapter suggests a narrative approach to storytelling as a means of overcoming imaginative limitations and radically rethinking climate change and human impact on the Earth. Because facts and figures are ‘at best necessary but rarely sufficient to create active behavioural engagement’,Footnote 14 the chapter argues that culturally situated storytelling, when informed and enriched by deeper reflection on the Anthropocene and human–nature relationship, offers a valuable approach to climate change, the contemporary condition, and to thinking who we are as humans.

For the purposes of this chapter, storytelling means sharing stories that enable us to make sense of the world, events, and ourselves. It is a way of sharing content to provoke reflection by describing events, contextualising them, engaging emotions, and identifying personal connections and universal patterns. In this way, storytelling improves understanding, affects worldviews, and stimulates action.Footnote 15 Culturally situated narratives and individually relatable stories neither oppose a rational stance on climate change nor challenge scholarly deliberations about climate change, but are believed to be necessary sources for deeper reflection, motivation, and moral impact.Footnote 16 They are also a necessary component of climate literacy and thus of individual, regional, and global responses to climate change. If treated seriously, as Moezzi, Janda and Rotmann call for in their 2017 special issue of the Energy Research and Social Science journal, stories can become tools in effective climate risk communication that brings effective behavioural changes, entices moral reflection, and motivates a more sustainable living.Footnote 17

Building on the existing literature, Harris provides a concise overview of the features of storytelling relevant in the context of communicating social concerns such as climate change.Footnote 18 It is relevant and useful to quote the fragment in full:

Storytelling engages directly with the politics of perception, identity, and imagination (Gottschall 2013). It is useful for communicating and translating complex realities across different audiences (Cameron, Mearns, and McGrath 2015). It is often derived from and enacts counterepistemological and ontological projects (Blaser 2010). It is a democratic form of information creation and sharing (Rice, Burke, and Heynen 2015) and can be a culturally appropriate way of representing multiple truths in which the storyteller, rather than the researcher, retains control (Bishop 1999). Further, as an art form, it is able to respatialize and retemporalize a listener’s experience of the world (Hawkins and Kanngieser 2017). If climate change is difficult to perceive because of its spatial and temporal span (Markowitz and Shariff 2012), then it seems that storytelling has much to offer in the study of climate change specifically (Moezzi, Janda, and Rotmann 2017).

(Harris Reference Harris2020, p. 310)

The special issue of Energy Research and Social Science edited by Moezzi et al. presents research that looks into ‘collecting and interpreting stories as data, as modes of inquiry and as forms of engagement’.Footnote 19 The issue acknowledges the multitude of directions climate research can take using stories as research objects. It presents various ways in which research in climate change uses the notion of stories to deal with specific topics such as climate change communication, news coverage of extreme weather events, traditional weather knowledge systems, public apathy and engagement, or institutional ‘storytelling’ – that is, methods used to convince the public to adopt certain mindsets.Footnote 20

The 2018 book Climate Change and Storytelling: Narratives and Cultural Meaning in Environmental Communication by Annika Arnold also discusses methods and stresses the value of narrative and literary theory in improving our understanding of social and political issues of the climate change debate. Referring to the existing research and approaching stories as modes of inquiry and effective forms of engagement with a broader public (through media and public initiatives), the chapter opens with a discussion on effective communication and transformations taking place in the approach to communicating climate change that have a potential to motivate communities, challenge social passivity, and encourage agency. The chapter adopts a broad understanding of ‘story’ and ‘storytelling’ to refer to ways of conveying information, events, and ideas that include a character and a plot, are contextualised and personalised, engage emotions, and allow space for interpretation. It adopts Kieran Egan’s view that ‘[s]tory’ does not necessarily imply a fictional narrative; rather, it involves ‘the narrative shaping of any content’.Footnote 21

While a shift from reporting facts to telling stories has been taking place, and the significant role of emotions, personalisation, and relatability of a story has been widely recognised, both in research and popular media, what is also observable is the ongoing split (in mainstream media and public discourse) between social/cultural topics and topics dealing strictly with science and the environment. This division, and its consequences for communicating climate change, will be discussed in the first section of the chapter in the form of a brief analysis of data gathered for the report on climate change narrative’s shortcoming developed by ‘The Twenties’ initiative.Footnote 22 This split seems to replicate a centuries-long and still prevalent paradigm of duality between culture and nature. It also resonates a broader philosophical reflection on our inability (or resistance?) to break thinking paradigms, surmount imaginative limitations and, ultimately, overcome our inability to ‘see things’.

This chapter argues, particularly in its last section, that a broader acceptance of a narrative approach and storytelling as a mode of inquiry may help the efforts of interdisciplinary scholarship focused on reconfiguring concepts,Footnote 23 renegotiating established paradigms, and reformulating premises and theoriesFootnote 24 in response to an ‘Anthropocene turn’.Footnote 25 It can provide means and channels for this higher-level reflection to enter popular discourse, by facilitating inter- and trans-disciplinary exchanges and strengthening the connections between science and humanities. Even though the use of stories in communicating science and the knowledge of the world has been long recognised, strong reservations persist. Stories remain associated with subjective and unverifiable information, and are treated as being firmly within the realm of arts and humanities, rather than science. According to Moezzi et al., ‘stories simplify, lie, change, and resist verification. They do not lend themselves to experiments, tests, or sampling. This makes them relatively unsuitable, and in fact uncomfortable to deal with, within current scientific paradigms’.Footnote 26 Breaking these paradigms has become a goal of the reflection on environmental rhetoric of the twenty-first century with storytelling proving its potential.Footnote 27 The main question is broad and focuses on how we should talk about climate change, both in terms of framing the climate change narrative to encourage change in everyday behaviours and reframing existing paradigms, patterns, and approaches to inspire deeper transformation, including a radical reconfiguration of concepts we use to make sense of the world.

20.2 Communicating Climate Change
20.2.1 Changing Narrative Approach

Telling a story is a more complex process than simply commenting on climate change in the media. Still, the most obvious and immediate means of communicating climate change (and generally science), and of reaching the public, is via media coverage. The approach to communicating climate change in media has been evolving, gradually shifting the focus from reporting facts to emotions, from global and distant issues to local problems, from general to personal concerns, and from apocalyptic visions to resilience-focused messages.

For many decades, a popular approach to science communication has been the information deficit model, which ‘assumes that gaps between scientists and the public are a result of a lack of information or knowledge’.Footnote 28 It is a relatively simple model, but does reflect the way researchers often think about the production of knowledge. According to this approach, it seems sufficient to provide the public with relevant information to impact their attitudes and behaviours. In his 2011 work Who Speaks for the Climate? Making Sense of Media Reporting on Climate Change, Maxwell Boykoff emphasises that such an approach presumes that ‘audiences are ignorant and need to be ‘supplied’ with good, factual information’.Footnote 29 The deficit model has been widely criticised – importantly for ‘inaccurately characterising the relationship between knowledge, attitudes, beliefs, and behaviours’,Footnote 30 and has been debunked by scientists themselves. Yet, it is still used in various kinds of communication and governs what and how we learn from mainstream media, social media, websites, reports, films, and books.Footnote 31

While reporting facts to fill in gaps in our knowledge is still practised by scientists, media commentators, advisors, or policy makers, it has been widely recognised that contextualised and personalised communication will more easily grab attention and trigger emotions. Hence, personal and emotional connections are being made with increasing frequency in media coverage on climate change. We could see this clearly, for example, in the coverage of the bushfires that engulfed much of Australia across the summer of 2019–2020. In addition to learning about extreme weather patterns, temperature records, and drier climate, we predominantly heard the stories directly from those who endured the fires, about loss and personal tragedy, as well as resilience, courage, and kindness. While we were advised by the experts that it is ‘very difficult in general to attribute climate change impacts to a specific event’ (Richard Thornton) and that ‘[i]t’s not every weather event that is the direct result of climate change’ (Glenda Wardle),Footnote 32 it was clear that whatever was happening resulted in loss, grief, and, hopefully, recovery that would follow. It was the lived experience of individuals that gained prominence in Australian media and beyond.

The article published in The Guardian by Graham Readfearn and his team, ‘Inside Australia’s climate emergency: the new fire zone’, is one of the examples of such an approach.Footnote 33 It does not overload readers with scientific facts, but rather weaves the text about human-caused – as it was stressed – climate change and high-risk bushfire weather, together with short videos of a father and daughter taking readers through the surroundings of their burnt family property and telling about ‘memory in the place’.Footnote 34 The readers can read the text in between the videos or have it imposed onto the recorded scenes. The format of the story with all its sensory elements, visuals and sounds, including the victims’ voices, facilitates emotional reception of the story and supports empathetic connection that develops throughout the reportage. At the end, readers are likely to find themselves nodding to the father’s words: ‘I’m calling it a climate change fire – some of the firemen might disagree but, to me, that’s what caused this fire.’ A certain degree of interactivity allowed by the format of the reportage – that is, navigable textual sections, which are less personal and more factual, together with video and audio – conveying very personal experience of two individuals, gives a sense of immersion (even if minimal) and of agency. While we cannot change the story, we have some choice as to how we will engage with it, what elements of it we will allow to impact our interpretation, and how we will imagine its broader context.

It is also the lived experience of cultures that has become more visible and important in media coverage of recent climate change events. Another interactive article in the same series of The Guardian, ‘The frontline Inside Australia’s climate emergency: the killer heat’ (2021) by reporters Helen Davidson, Adam Morton, and Lauren Molan, informs its audience that Australia is heating faster than the global average.Footnote 35 The climate change facts are provided within the context of a story from the siblings from Tennant Creek located on Warumungu land, one of the hottest regions of Australia, telling about extreme heat affecting lives of Wupurarni people and breaking ‘a connection with the land that stretches back millennia’. The relevance of this personalised communal experience is particularly important as the severity of climate change consequences remains under-recognised not only by policymakers but also by the wider community that is living through these changes.Footnote 36

So, there has been a clear shift from reporting facts (following the deficit model) to reporting the lived experiences of individuals and cultures. This shift is based on the recognition that relatable and personalised stories of ordinary people and communities more directly and effectively communicate the urgency and consequences of climate change. They are more likely to capture the imagination, build connections, foster empathy and have a lasting impact. And yet, stories about the experiences of ordinary people, which are relatable and personal, rather than abstract and distant, are still to a large extent missing from climate change communication.Footnote 37

One of the reasons is the reluctance to recognise emotions as reliable and informative. However, Sabine Roeser, in her article ‘Risk communication, public engagement, and climate change: a role for emotions risk communication’, suggests that ‘Emotions might be the missing link in effective communication about climate change in a two-fold way: they lead us to more awareness of the problems and to being motivated to do something about climate change.’Footnote 38 She refers to Elke Weber’s argument that ‘risk communication strategies should explicitly appeal to emotions’ and to the reasoning of Meijnders et al.,Footnote 39 who argue that ‘communication about climate change should appeal more directly to feelings such as fear’. Roeser supports her claims with philosophical theories and trans-disciplinary research to suggest that emotions are important determinants in risk perception, make things relatable, enable our moral and practical judgments, stimulate reflection, and support critical decision-making.Footnote 40 They are essential for effective communication and motivation to act, and thus, according to Roeser, for integrating emotions into the debate about climate change:

[This] can lead to a more thorough understanding of the moral impact of climate change, by sympathizing with its victims and future generations, but at the same time, it can serve as a more reliable source of motivation than purely rational, abstract knowledge about climate change.Footnote 41

Of course, there is more to it – emotions differ, and are not always positive. They include feelings of justice, sympathy for victims, care, worry, but also fear, distress or anxiety. Moreover, emotional responses may lead to ethical problems, such as manipulation,Footnote 42 or errors in risk perception.Footnote 43 Roeser suggests that emotions trigger critical reflection that should not be underestimated, and thus appealing to moral emotions about climate change can enable more thorough ethical reflection, provided these appeals are not ‘limited to alarmist images’ but also offer ‘narratives and portraits of people who undergo the effects of climate change’.Footnote 44

What this research points to is that to be more effective, communication about climate change should appeal to emotions and feelings to entice moral reflection and motivation.Footnote 45 It should also convey emotions and the ethical concerns of experts and scientists themselves.Footnote 46 But perhaps the role of emotions in climate change communication should be understood from a broader perspective. In order to understand what advice should be offered to scientists on how to tell the story of climate change, Dylan Harris conducted semi-structured interviews with self-identified climate storytellers in Appalachia and Alaska.Footnote 47 According to the interviewees, what matters to them is ‘context and connection’. In other words, abstract and universal concepts should be communicated in a way that connects with people and specific, contextualised (personal and collective) experiences.Footnote 48

Harris’ research focuses on a small group of storytellers working with specific communities. Yet, understanding contextualised experiences is essential also when communicating to a broader audience.Footnote 49 This implies knowing audiences and their different ways of responding to climate change, as Leiserowitz argues in his research Global Warming’s Six Americas.Footnote 50 But this also requires scholars, educators, and communicators to make the effort to better understand communities and cultures, specific local concerns and anxieties, reaching beyond strict climate science and becoming better ‘listeners’ – after all ‘storytelling is a conversation’.Footnote 51

The focus on the contextualised and personal does not need to divert from universal truths, just like emotions do not have to be inferior to reason and analytical procedures. The outcomes of Harris’ interviews with self-identified storytellers from the Appalachia and Alaska regions suggest that what holds ‘the contextual and the universal in is some degree of abstraction which is a useful element of climate change communication’ and ‘abstraction gives ability to tie universal issues with specific context, encourages analysis and creative interpretation’.Footnote 52 The Guardian series ‘Inside Australia’s climate emergency’ shows this approach well both by tying abstract facts to place-based experiences, and by drawing on ideas that are emotional and reinforce particular feelings.

Storytellers interviewed by Harris also argued that, in telling climate stories, some degree of ambiguity is quite useful. It helps to engage the audience, but most importantly it gives the audience agency and allows them to interpret the information themselves. Contrary to what might be expected from climate change communication, some interpretative freedom does not necessarily imply the acceptance of insufficient knowledge or bypassing truth,Footnote 53 but rather encourages the audience’s active engagement with the content. Research suggests that some degree of uncertainty stimulates critical thinking and decision-making both about how audiences relate to the conveyed message and about the acceptability of risks.Footnote 54 The sense of agency and the ability to make sense of what we hear ourselves inspires responsibility. This is in addition to the responsibility assigned by the very structure of a narrative and roles played by its actors, heroes or villains; as Krauß and Bremer observe: ‘[n]arratives assign responsibility for risk governance; who is to be held accountable and who is entitled for action’.Footnote 55

How stories and storytelling are or could be operationalised in the context of science and climate change communication needs to be explored further. Lessons from storytellers working with communities are very valuable, particularly on how to connect with local audiences and how to account for the cultural specificity of places.Footnote 56 Equally important is cultural and literary scholarship, especially on features of narratives, structures, semiotic processes, and techniques of storytelling which over the centuries enabled people to engage with phenomena they may not have observed themselves, or the complexity of which they may not have fully understood. Most importantly, it is crucial to think about narratives and stories outside of their traditionally perceived disciplinary boundaries. The term ‘narrative’ has been evolving to become an interdisciplinary concept,Footnote 57 and in the context of the climate change communication does not simply stand for a translation of scientific facts into a popular vernacular. As Krauß and Bremer emphasise, ‘the narrative approach challenges the exclusivity of the scientific definition of the climate problem and opens up new ways of dealing with a changing climate’.Footnote 58 Without those new ways and without contextualising changes to connect with local experiences, practices, and knowledges to make sense of a global phenomenon, we may not have any useful narrative to tell.

20.2.2 Narrative’s Shortcomings

In a focused and practical context, the report How to Word It: The Nature and Climate Change Narrative’s Shortcomings (2021), created by The Twenties team led by Mateusz Galica and Marta Marczuk, and supported by the European Climate Foundation, suggests that the inability to ‘see things’ results from the ‘lack of convincing narrative’.Footnote 59 The report makes an interesting attempt at capturing dominant narratives about climate change by text-mining several hundred publications focused on this topic.

The study’s goals were ‘to locate the primary threads of the story about climate change, to find factors and phenomena that have an exceptionally strong impact on the social imagination, and to verify the hypothesis regarding competing narratives built around the discussed problem’.Footnote 60 The report also attempted at providing better understanding of how media discourse perpetuates culture–nature dualism and deals with scientific diagnoses calling for social and cultural changes. The study analysed 17,458 articles on climate change published on five most widely read English-language news pages responsible for 70% of news content on the Internet: BBC, CNN, the New York Times, the Daily Mail, and The Guardian. The analysed articles were published over a period of five years, between 1 April 2016 and 31 March 2021, marking the signing of the Paris Agreement and the United Nations Framework Convention on Climate Change, respectively. The data were collected by purpose-built software – a web-scrapping program – and analysed by the software.Footnote 61

A general message of the report is that the discussion on climate change emerging from the examined media sources is not only about climate change itself, but is more complex and multifaceted. The most important finding is that there are two clear dimensions of the climate change discourse: one dealing with social aspects and the other with environmental aspects. The split is presented in the form of network graph which shows a distribution of 2000 most frequently used words, e.g.: ‘people’, ‘work’, ‘live’ (for social aspects) and ‘world change’, ‘climate’, ‘national’, ‘government’, ‘global’ (for environmental aspects). The most important thematic groups (presented as words combined into clusters) reinforced the split: ‘climate change and the environment’; ‘transnational institutions and projects’; ‘national politics’ (for environment aspects), ‘media and information’; and ‘social life’ (for social aspects). Social and environmental topics are not directly connected and are rather treated as separate issues.Footnote 62 They are indirectly connected by concepts (presented as two phrase clouds) dealing with political issues and scientific issues. Political references mediating between these two dimensions include ‘national politics’, ‘government’ and ‘industry’ and topics intertwined with global dimensions, transnational institutions and projects.Footnote 63 Science is another mediator between the two dimensions, but it is shown as focusing mostly on physical dimensions of climate change (species, wildlife, habitat) and environmental disasters. Science is also linked with general and abstract information, such as ‘devastation, pollution, catastrophe or destruction’.Footnote 64

From the report we learn that the divide between thinking about social and cultural aspects of human life and environmental and climate issues is deep and has a major impact on thinking patterns and further communication. We learn that articles locating their topics closer to social issues are drawing a more optimistic image of the reality, focused on the future, economy, action, and agency. Another finding is that government-focused topics are likely to involve discussions on progress and development, and that scientific topics tend to present a more apocalyptic vision of the reality and are detached from everyday life.Footnote 65 There is a clear distinction between talking about ‘humans’ and about ‘people’, with the former being a biological term used in articles which emphasise the impact of climate change, and the latter term being a social category occurring in texts of less environmental focus.Footnote 66 The split explains – as the report also notices – that approaching climate change from cultural and identity perspectives, thus showing its complexity and multidimensionality, is not common and does not constitute a coherent approach.Footnote 67

The report isolates 30 of the most significant collocations for the words ‘climate’ and ‘change’, demonstrating how we understand the issue of climate change. Among them are: ‘combat’, ‘fight’, and ‘tackle’ as well as ‘global’, ‘real’, ‘systemic’, and ‘radical’. It shows that media present climate change as a serious and global threat.Footnote 68 This message, however, is not consistently supported. While the analysed articles imply that there is an element of specificity – for example, the implied relationship between climate change and disadvantaged groups such as indigenous communities, disabled people, and those below the poverty line – they also suggest that climate change affects primarily young people. Among articles focusing on solutions, topics dealing with national politics dominate, which gives a sense that everything is under control and being taken care of at the higher governmental level. It also implies that nature can be controlled and managed, and in this sense is subordinate.Footnote 69

What the report shows is that, in spite of the acknowledged value of climate change communication becoming more personalised, contextualised, and appealing to emotions, information conveyed in mainstream media often follows deeply ingrained thought patterns according to which environmental and social concerns, science and social life, nature and culture belong to separate domains. It hence shows that changes at the higher level of social discourse are also needed, involving a ‘“climate correction” of our concepts and discourses’ that can be achieved through an engaged exchange between scientists, sociologists, philosophers, and cultural scholars.Footnote 70

20.2.3 Environmental Rhetoric

Understanding climate change depends on the environmental rhetoric and discourses within which it is articulated. Ewa Bińczyk stresses that ‘the twenty-first century began with a surprising reconfiguration of concepts’, such as the concept of an ‘Anthropocene’ used to expose the current impact of man on the planet.Footnote 71 The term introduced by natural scientists quickly achieved media success much greater than the earlier concept of sustainable development. Its first uses in American media were recorded in 2010,Footnote 72 and the concept entered the Oxford English Dictionary four years later. However, it has not ordered and systematised our thinking about the values, purposes, and responsibilities towards the world and ourselves. Researchers argue whether it can be used as ‘a broad metaphor to motivate [a] holistic understanding of human impacts’ and some see a narrative approach and some storytelling as a potential to enable that.Footnote 73 Specifically, Kunnas highlights storytelling’s capacity to present ‘a multifaceted picture of human agency in the Anthropocene’ and evade fatalistic visions frequent in media.Footnote 74 The storytelling approach also encourages and facilitates a more nuanced reflection on tropes of the Anthropocene discourse and other concepts dominating the imagination.Footnote 75

Although most of the environment discourses involve interdisciplinary perspectives and to some extent employ humanistic questions concerning culture, society and values, there seems to be a persistent resistance to considering disciplines such as literature, philosophy, gender, or postcolonial perspectives a crucial part of a meaningful discussion on environment and climate. In the early 2000s, an article published in the Australian Humanities Review by Deborah Bird Rose and Libby Robin brought about a new perspective on integrating humanities and natural sciences in environmental thinking. Their article, ‘The ecological humanities: an invitation’, introduced the concept of ecological humanities as a multidisciplinary domain aimed at traversing ‘the great divides between the sciences and the humanities, and between western and other ways of knowing nature’.Footnote 76 In 2012, Deborah Rose and Thom van Dooren established the interdisciplinary periodical Environmental Humanities. Acknowledging that the field of environmental humanities is growing rapidly, the editors called for a qualitative research engaging with ‘fundamental questions of meaning, value, responsibility and purpose’, via a more sensitive and conceptually extensive approach to environmental issues and, at the same time, ‘rethinking the ontological exceptionality of the human’ and unsettling of dominant narratives.Footnote 77

Thus, the voice of humanists has become essential in the context of environmental rhetoric.Footnote 78 It is through this humanist lens that we learn that ‘nature’ is no longer objectified by technoscience as ‘natural resources’, but has become a deeply normative and problematic concept.Footnote 79 We learn, following Dipesh Chakrabarty, that the idea of freedom can easily become ‘a blanket category for diverse imaginations of human autonomy and sovereignty’.Footnote 80 We realise that our understanding of the living world is instantly unsettled if we attempt to overcome the nature/culture binary that locates humans in a separate imaginary realm, outside of nature.Footnote 81 We also learn that the environmental rhetoric of the Anthropocene often points to the conditions of ‘disappointment’ and ‘helplessness’ in the context of climate policy. We learn about the rhetorical practices and strategies of the so-called denialism and greenwashing that are important industry propaganda tools in the twenty-first century.Footnote 82 We also get insights into indigenous knowledge of climate systems but also, most importantly, into different ways of comprehending human presence on the Earth.

The evolving rhetoric of the Anthropocene is essential to understanding the situation in which we have found ourselves, but also to enabling changes – profound social and economic changes that need to happen. Bińczyk claims that ‘there are connections between the conceptual structures of the Anthropocene and a kind of stagnation characterising contemporary climate policy’.Footnote 83 These connections may not be immediately obvious, but what is clear is that there is something in our thinking about the world that legitimises this stagnation. There are, as Bińczyk continues, thought mechanisms most likely growing from the European tradition of thinking about nature that legitimise approaches such as ‘discounting the future, denialism, paternalistic ignorance of alternative values against the value of economic growth, setting “safe” risk limits and contingency plans, believing that future innovations will save us (the so-called technical imperative), nihilism’.Footnote 84 And so what Bińczyk and other eco-humanists insist we need is a post-anthropocentric, environmentally focused correction of our concepts and theories, transformation of many key philosophical ideas (not only of nature and man, but also of time, history, agency, responsibility, and even politics and society). An attempt at renegotiating concepts that can be used to both unsettle dominant narratives and offer new constructive approaches to thinking about the human and non-human world has been taken at a higher level by, for example, The Environmental Humanities journal. The Living Lexicon series, published in a special section of the journal, offers 1,000-word essays that focus on particular terms such as ‘endangered’, ‘fossil’, ‘mitigation’, or ‘memory’. The authors discuss the terms from scholarly perspectives, but also challenge their dominant meanings by using more creative and personal approaches.

Among the concepts important for climate change communication to reflect the reality experienced by individuals and communities are loss and trauma. The irreversible loss of nature and the world as we used to know it has become one of the key issues of discussion on the Anthropocene. This results in more common than ever experience of pain, anxiety, chronic distress, as well as grief by individuals and communities. Examining the experiences of citizens in the Upper Hunter region in Australia, resulting from the impact of open-cut coal mining on their everyday lives, Glenn Albrecht created in 2003 the concept of ‘solastalgia’. He explains that, combining the concepts of ‘solace’ and ‘desolation’, ‘solastalgia’ captures a ‘feeling of chronic distress caused by negatively perceived changes to a home and its landscape’.Footnote 85 Although developed to conceptualise the experiences of a specific community, the term quickly became very popular both in research and popular culture. It became one of those terms that, by identifying and naming emotions, feelings, and reactions to climate change, allow us to understand and respond to them more effectively. It allows us to better understand, for example, the experiences of climate change observed on Australia’s Erub Island in the Torres Strait, its gendered nature, and a deteriorating connection to self and country.Footnote 86 However, perceptions of loss resulting from climate change may vary and they remain an understudied area.Footnote 87

Dobrowolska and Ormond-Skeaping propose looking at climate change through the prism of trauma research and claim this may ‘help create a coherent, global narrative about climate change and its effects’.Footnote 88 As visual artists, they use art to explore representations and expressions of loss and destruction. Psychologists argue that a narrative engagement with loss, pain, and suffering is essential if the communication on climate change is to reflect and shape ethical attitude towards reality. Such an attitude can be shaped, but we need ‘a real sense of tragedy’ to develop a deep narrative that refers to the core values of who we are as people.Footnote 89 Only by having an in-depth understanding of the tragedy can we develop a meaningful sense of hope,Footnote 90 which, as studies show, is lacking among the public, together with ideas about what may promote hope.Footnote 91 As Marlon et al. conclude, ‘this hope gap is especially relevant in the face of increasing climate impacts and insufficient national and international actions thus far to address the root causes of the problem’.Footnote 92

A narrative approach can also help with a philosophical reflection on the very inability to see things. One of the ideas aimed at improving our understanding of where we are at in a climate debate and correcting our thinking patterns is the philosophical concept of a ‘hyperobject’ created by Timothy Morton.Footnote 93 A hyperobject is something that cannot be seen because it is too big to notice or immobilised due to its being omnipresent, both in time and space. However, its symptoms can be documented, such as the effects of hurricanes, the melting of glaciers, or the displacement of people due to floods. While for Morton we cannot see the ‘object’, clearly because of its enormous size, for Rob Nixon it is the speed of the process that hampers our perception.Footnote 94 His idea of slow violence refers to almost invisible, gradual and slow changes related to environmental degradation, which stand at the opposite pole to spectacular events and natural disasters. Because they are slow, we cannot see them or perceive them as threatening.

This inability to ‘see things’ and act accordingly, the lack of understanding and vision and insufficient ways of knowing, have been increasingly identified as the ‘crisis of the imagination’. In his 1995 book The Environmental Imagination, Lawrence Buell examines cultural reflections on nature and environment and arrives at the diagnosis that the environmental crisis involves ‘a crisis of the imagination’ and thus requires ‘betters ways of imagining nature and humanity’s relation to it’.Footnote 95 Two decades later, Amitav Ghosh repeats this observation: ‘the climate crisis is a crisis of culture, thus of the imagination’.Footnote 96 While still potentially connected to the size and speed of climate change, the crisis of imagination seems to have deeper roots and results not from the loss but from an ontological deficit of adequate imaginative frameworks, models and approaches. These are being developed with the humanities and social sciences being, on the one hand, redefined as integrating the human and non-human, and undermining the dominant discourse of the duality of culture and nature, and, on the other hand, integrated with life sciences. These transformations are both supported by and themselves support new ways of narrating the world, ourselves, and the change itself.Footnote 97 This is a good start. However, in the face of the climate crisis, but also stagnation of the debate on climate change and the initiated transformations, a more focused and informed narrative engagement is crucial.

If the destructive actions of people are indeed caused by harmful ideas about the natural environment or by a complete lack of imagination, journalism offers a limited set of tools. To address the crisis of imagination we need to understand that these new ways of communicating climate challenges are more likely to appear at the intersection of science, literature, and art. There is a lot to learn from historic narratives and artistic expressions of the understanding of places and place-based experiences.Footnote 98 But there are also new initiatives, involving new methods and approaches. These include artistic, literary and performative interventions, community projects and participatory actions.Footnote 99 Importantly, as Baztan et al. highlight in their research on community trust-building for climate services through arts, the integration of art and science is not to use the arts to communicate scientific findings, but rather to gain ‘access to elements that are generally excluded from scientific inquiry to convey a more complete picture of the challenges at hand’.Footnote 100 It is at this intersection where re-configuring concepts,Footnote 101 re-negotiating established paradigms,Footnote 102 and re-articulating the scientific description of the worldFootnote 103 may most effectively take place.

20.3 Conclusions

Climate change is the most serious challenge of the Anthropocene, and so climate change communication needs to be taken suitably seriously, enriched with new ways of conceptualising, understanding, and imaging the world and its transformations. Over the centuries, telling stories was used to confront the unknown, encourage thinking about solutions, illuminate opportunities, and give hope. Now stories and storytelling can be more useful than ever.

The focus on stories and storytelling in the climate change communication means, among other things, actively listening to communities and their stories to understand specific contexts and connections; drawing on and developing narrative techniques and knowledge to connect and motivate individuals, communities, and a broader audience; and strengthening the connections between science and humanities to open new perspectives in conceptualising and communicating climate change. Such a focus can provide a different set of data and tools to include emotional, psychological, symbolic, cultural content and perspectives.Footnote 104 It can challenge our thinking about, or rather through, grand concepts such as the ‘truth’, ‘nature’, or ‘human’, effectively reshaping the framework within which our understanding of the world and ourselves evolves. This includes challenging, for example, the idea of duality of nature and culture (human versus natural history), thus connecting social issues with environmental issues in the public discourse. Stories reduce the abstract dimension of science, bringing ‘the abstract risk closer to the individual’, while still using some degree of abstraction to inspire creative thinking.Footnote 105 This helps to encourage trust in science and what may be a more effective use of facts in public space. Stories and storytelling allow space for interpretation and agency to think critically and, most importantly, act imaginatively. Finally, they encourage inter- and trans-disciplinarity, and thus novel perspectives, stressing the fact that, ultimately, discussions on climate change are discussions about who we are. In this sense, storytelling has a great potential to motivate individuals, communities and, as a result, legislators, to act.

Footnotes

10 European Green Deal, Climate Policies and the Energy Dilemma: Investment Protection versus Sustainable Investment?

1 L. Cozzi, T. Gould, What would it take to limit the global temperature rise to 1.5°C? 2019. www.iea.org/commentaries/what-would-it-take-to-limit-the-global-temperature-rise-to-15c.

2 R. Lyster, A. Bradbrook, Energy Law and the Environment (Cambridge University Press, 2006), p. 11 ff.; S. Tagliapietra, G. Zachmann, Towards a zero-carbon and digital energy system: what policy challenges for Europe? European Energy Journal 2018, 7: 1632, at pp. 17 ff.; V. Bruggeman, B. Delvaux, EU energy policy and legislation under pressure since the UNFCCC and the Kyoto Protocol, in M. Peeters, K. Deketelaere (eds.), EU Climate Change Policy: The Challenge of New Regulatory Initiatives (Edward Elgar, 2006), p. 233.

3 IPCC. Energy Is at the heart of the solution to the climate challenge. 2020. www.ipcc.ch/2020/07/31/energy-climatechallenge.

4 UN General Assembly, Sustainable Development Goals. 2015. https://sdgs.un.org/goals.

5 Opened for signature 4 June 1992, 1771 UNTS 107, entered into force 21 March 1994.

6 Opened for signature 17 December 1994, entered into force 16 April 1998.

7 A. Boute, Combating climate change through investment arbitration. Fordham International Law Journal 2012, 25(3): 613664, at pp. 626–627.

8 Opened for signature 23 May 1969, 1155 UNTS 331, entered into force 27 January 1980.

9 Opened for signature 23 May 1969, 1155 UNTS 331, entered into force 27 January 1980.

10 ILC, Fragmentation of international law: difficulties arising from the diversification and expansion of international law. UN Doc. A/CN.4/L.682. (2006), at p. 243, paragraphs 479–481.

11 EU, Text proposal for the modernisation of the Energy Charter Treaty, 2020, at pp. 4 and 11. https://trade.ec.europa.eu/doclib/docs/2020/may/tradoc_158754.pdf.

13 Status of Ratification of the UNFCCC. https://unfccc.int/process-and-meetings/the-convention/status-of-ratification/status-of-ratification-of-the-convention. On this basis, it could be argued that the UNFCCC has universal application (O. Quirico, Towards a peremptory duty to curb greenhouse gas emissions?’ Fordham International Law Journal 2021, 44: 923–965, at pp. 932–933).

14 C. Voigt, State responsibility for climate change damages. Nordic Journal of International Law (2008) 77(1–2): 122, at p. 5.

15 M. Fitzmaurice, Responsibility and climate change. German Yearbook of International Law (2010) 53: 90, at p. 106.

16 B. Mayer, Obligations of conduct in the international law on climate change: a defence. Review of European, Comparative and International Environmental Law 2018, 27: 130140, at p. 135.

17 Kyoto Protocol, opened for signature 11 December 1997, entered into force 16 February 2005; Paris Agreement, opened for signature 22 April 2016, entered into force 4 November 2016.

18 UNFCCC, Geneva Ministerial Declaration, UN Doc. FCCC/CP/ 1996/15/Add.1 (1996) at para. 8; Mayer, Obligations of conduct, p. 135; M. Fitzmaurice, The Kyoto Protocol compliance regime and treaty law. Singapore Yearbook of International Law 2004, 8: 23, at p. 28.

19 D. Bodansky, The legal character of the Paris Agreement. Review of European, Comparative and International Environmental Law 2016, 25(2): 142150, at p. 150.

20 U.S., International Climate Finance Plan, 2021; European Commission, European Green Deal: delivering on our targets. 2021. https://ec.europa.eu/commission/presscorner/detail/en/fs_21_3688; J. Murray, Which countries have committed to legally binding net zero carbon emissions? NS Energy, 2021. www.nsenergybusiness.com/news/countries-net-zero-emissions.

21 European Commission, The European Green Deal, Communication from the Commission to the European Parliament, the European Council, the Council, the European Economic and Social Committee and the Committee of the Regions, COM(2019) 640 final. 2019.

22 Footnote Ibid at p. 2.

23 European Commission, Financing the Green Transition: The European Green deal investment plan and just transition mechanism. 2020. https://ec.europa.eu/commission/presscorner/detail/en/ip_20_17.

24 European Investment Bank, Energy lending policy supporting the energy transformation (2019), at p. 4.

25 European Commission, Proposal for a Regulation of the European Parliament and of the Council Establishing the Framework for Achieving Climate Neutrality and Amending Regulation (EU) 2018/1999 (European Climate Law), Explanatory Memorandum, Doc. 4.3.2020 COM(2020) 80 final 2020/0036(COD) (2020), paragraph 1.

26 Adopted 17 November 1991.

28 K. Hobér, Investment arbitration and the Energy Charter Treaty. Journal of International Dispute Settlement 2010, 1(1): 153190 at p. 154; M. S. Peters, Critical commentary on the Energy Charter Treaty. European Energy Journal 2018, 7(4): 47–54; C. Benson, C. Yim, V. Orlowski, The Energy Charter Treaty, in D. Bishop, G. Kaiser (eds.), The Guide to Energy Arbitrations (Law Business Research Ltd, 2nd ed., 2017), p. 33.

30 International Energy Charter, CONEXO, 30 November 2015. www.energycharter.org/what-wedo/conexo/overview.

31 Hobér, Investment arbitration and the Energy Charter Treaty, pp. 156–162.

32 Energy Charter Secretariat, Sub-Group on Modernisation, Room Document 1 (2019) at p. 5.

33 Nykomb Synergetics Technology Holding AB v Republic of Latvia, SCC Arbitration Institute, Arbitral Award of 16 December 2003, at p. 34.

34 T. Wälde, Contract claims under the Energy Charter Treaty’s umbrella clause: original intentions versus emerging jurisprudence, in C. Ribeiro (ed.), Investment Arbitration and the Energy Charter Treaty (Jurisnet, 2006), p. 205.

35 A. Sheppard, The distinction between lawful and unlawful expropriation, in Ribeiro, Investment Arbitration, pp. 169–199.

36 Save if a State party under annex ID has excluded arbitration or conciliation in the case that the investor has taken action in domestic courts (ECT article 26(3)(b)). Additionally, State consent is optional if a State party included in annex IA has not given unconditional consent with respect to disputes concerning any obligations it has entered into with an investor or an investment of an investor of any other contracting party, under ECT article 10(1) (ECT article 26(3)(c)).

37 Opened for signature 18 March 1965, 575 UNTS 159, entered into force 14 October 1966.

38 Energy Charter Treaty, List of cases (2024). www.energychartertreaty.org/cases/list-of-cases.

39 A. Boute, Combating climate change through investment arbitration, p. 617; Q. Zhang, Analysis of the impact on sustainable development by investment regulations in the Energy Charter Treaty. Journal of World Energy Law and Business 2015, 8(6): 542548, at pp. 550551.

40 K. Tienhaara, C. Downie, Risky business? The Energy Charter Treaty, renewable energy, and investor–State disputes. Global Governance 2018, 24(3), 451471, at p. 452; T. Restrepo, Modification of renewable energy support schemes under the Energy Charter Treaty: Eiser and Charanne in the context of climate change. Goettingen Journal of International Law 2018, 8(1): 101137.

41 Case 062/2012, 17 December 1994. www.italaw.com/cases/2082.

42 SCC Case V2013/153, Final Award of 17 July 2016. www.italaw.com/cases/5893.

43 ICSID Case ARB/14/3, Final Award of 27 December 2016. www.italaw.com/cases/5739.

44 Tienhaara and Downie, Risky business?, pp. 459 and 463–465.

45 Footnote Ibid., p. 457.

46 Boute, Combating climate change, p. 656.

47 Public Services International, The Energy Charter Treaty is the antithesis of the Paris Agreement (2021). https://publicservices.international/resources/news/the-energy-charter-treaty-is-the-antithesis-of-the-paris-agreement?id=11642&lang=en; TNI, The Energy Charter Treaty is an anti-climate agreement (2021). www.tni.org/en/ECTpetition.

48 Claim for Damages under the Energy Charter, Union Law and European Law, 4 November 2019. www.italaw.com/cases/7847; Uniper SE, Uniper Benelux Holding B.V. and Uniper Benelux N.V. v. Kingdom of the Netherlands, ICSID Case ARB/21/22.

49 Government of the Netherlands, Climate policy (2019). www.government.nl/topics/climate-change/climate-policy; Minister of Economic Affairs and Climate Policy of The Netherlands, Letter to the House of Representatives about the Proposal for a National Climate Agreement (2019). www.government.nl/topics/climate-change/documents/parliamentary-documents/2019/06/28/letter-to-the-house-of-representatives-about-the-proposal-for-a-national-climate-agreement.

50 Stichting Urgenda v. The State of The Netherlands (Ministry of Economic Affairs and Climate Policy), Hague District Court, Case C/09/456689/HA ZA 13–1396, Judgment, 24 June 2015; The State of The Netherlands (Ministry of Economic Affairs and Climate Policy) v. Stichting Urgenda, Hague Court of Appeal, Case C/09/456689/HA ZA 13–139, Judgment of 9 October 2018; Footnote Id., Supreme Court of The Netherlands, Case 19/00135, Cassation Judgment of 20 December 2019.

51 ICSID Case ARB/13/36; Tienhaara and Downie, Risky business?, p. 456.

52 EC, Directive 2001/77/EC of the European Parliament and of the Council on the Promotion of Electricity Produced from Renewable Energy Sources in the Internal Electricity Market.

53 EU, Energy system factsheet (2021).

54 U.S. Environmental Protection Agency, Global greenhouse gas emissions data (2021). www.epa.gov/ghgemissions/global-greenhouse-gas-emissions-data.

55 EU, Energy system factsheet, p. 2.

57 Footnote Ibid. at pp. 3–4.

58 ISDS Platform, Modernisation of the Energy Charter Treaty (2020), at p. 4. www.isds.bilaterals.org/?modernisation-of-the-energy.

59 A. De Luca, Renewable energy in the EU, the Energy Charter Treaty, and Italy’s withdrawal therefrom. Transnational Dispute Management 2015, 1. www.transnational-dispute-management.com/article.asp?key=2232.

60 D. Keating, EU governments under pressure to quit Energy Charter Treaty (2019). www.forbes.com/sites/davekeating/2019/12/10/eu-governments-under-pressure-to-quit-energy-charter-treaty/#38bb572163ed; European Commission, Proposal for a Council decision on the withdrawal of the Union from the Energy Charter Treaty, COM(2023) 447 final, 7 July 2023.

61 N. Bernasconi-Osterwalder, M. D. Brauch, A. Cosbey, et al., Treaty on sustainable investment for climate change mitigation and adaptation: aligning international investment law with the urgent need for climate change action. Journal of International Arbitration 2019, 36(1): 735, at p. 8.

62 D. F. Vagts, Rebus revisited: changed circumstances in treaty law. Columbia Journal of Transnational Law 2005, 43(2): 459475.

63 N. Bernasconi-Osterwalder, M. D. Brauch, Redesigning the Energy Charter Treaty to advance the low-carbon transition. Transnational Dispute Management 2019, 1, at p. 3.

65 IEA, Energy technology perspectives. 2017. www.iea.org/reports/energy-technology-perspectives-2017.

66 Energy Charter Secretariat, Road Map for the Modernisation of the Energy Charter Process. 2010.

67 Energy Charter Secretariat, Policy Options for Modernisation of the ECT. CCDEC 2019 08 STR (2019), at p. 2.

68 Emphasis added.

69 EU, Text proposal (2020) at pp. 4 and 11.

70 NGOs, Open letter on the Energy Charter Treaty. December 2019. https://isds.bilaterals.org/?open-letter-on-the-energy-charter.

71 Adopted 20 May 2015.

72 P. Aalto, The New International Energy Charter: instrumental or incremental progress in governance? Energy Research and Social Sciences 2016, 11: 9296, at p. 92.

73 Energy Charter Conference, Modernisation of the Energy Charter Treaty. Doc CCDEC 201723STR (2017).

74 Approved topics for the modernisation of the Energy Charter Treaty. 28 November 2018. www.energycharter.org/media/news/article/approved-topics-for-the-modernisation-of-the-energy-charter-treaty.

75 Energy Charter Secretariat, Sub-Group on Modernisation, Room Document 1.

76 Energy Charter Treaty, Modernisation. www.energychartertreaty.org/modernisation-of-the-treaty.

77 Energy Charter Secretariat, Policy options.

78 Osterwalder et al., Treaty on sustainable investment for climate change mitigation and adaptation, p. 30.

80 Energy Charter Secretariat, Policy options, 3; J. Lo, Japan blocks green reform of major energy investment treaty. 2020. www.climatechangenews.com/2020/09/08/japan-blocks-green-reform-major-energy-investment-treaty.

81 Energy Charter Treaty, Agreement in Principle. 24 June 2022. www.energychrter.org.

82 European Commission, Public Communication on the Third Negotiation Round on the Modernisation of the ECT (2020). https://trade.ec.europa.eu/doclib/press/index.cfm?id=2206.

83 European Commission, European Green Deal: delivering.

84 Q. Zhang, Analysis of the impact, p. 550.

86 Bernasconi-Osterwalder and Brauch, Redesigning the Energy Charter Treaty, p. 18; Zhang, Analysis of the impact, p. 553.

87 M. C. Porterfeld, Reforming the international investment regime through a Framework Convention on Investment and Sustainable Development. 2020. https://uncitral.un.org.

88 EU, Text proposal, sustainable development – Context and objectives. https://trade.ec.europa.eu/doclib/docs/2020/may/tradoc_158754.pdf.

89 Footnote Ibid., Sustainable development – Climate change and clean energy transition, para. 1.

90 C. Campbell, A. Trigo, A vision for green foreign direct investment: proposals for an investor–state collaborative effort. Journal of International Arbitration 2019, 36(1): 135160, at p. 145; M. D. Brauch, Tackling climate change through sustainable investment: all in a treaty? 2018. http://sdg.iisd.org/commentary/guest-articles/tackling-climate-change-through-sustainable-investment-all-in-a-treaty.

91 Bernasconi-Osterwalder and Brauch, Redesigning the Energy Charter Treaty, p. 11.

92 Footnote Ibid at pp. 18 and 24.

93 Campbell and Trigo, A vision for green foreign direct investment, p. 151.

94 Bernasconi-Osterwalder and Brauch, Redesigning the Energy Charter Treaty, pp. 18 and 24.

97 P. Henin, J. Howley, A. Keene, N. Peart, Innovating international investment agreements: a proposed green investment protocol for climate change mitigation and adaptation. Journal of International Arbitration 2019, 36(1): 3770, at p. 60.

98 Osterwalder et al., Treaty on Sustainable Investment for Climate Change Mitigation and Adaptation, pp. 19–20.

99 S. N. Elrifai, H. Rusinek, S. R. Sinsel, A model multilateral treaty for the encouragement of investment in climate change mitigation and adaptation. Journal of International Arbitration 2019, 36(1): 7194, at p. 88.

100 Energy Charter Secretariat, Policy options (2019) at p. 15; EU, Text proposal, Part III, Regulatory Measure, para. 2.

101 EU, Text Proposal, Sustainable Development – Right to Regulate and Levels of Protection.

102 Footnote Ibid. at para. 3.

103 Footnote Ibid. Sustainable Development – Context and Objectives, para. (c).

104 Adopted in 2011.

105 UN, Guiding Principles on Business and Human Rights (2011).

106 EU, Text Proposal, Sustainable Development – Responsible Business Practices.

107 Energy Charter Secretariat, Road Map, p. 6.

108 Bernasconi-Osterwalder and Brauch, Redesigning the Energy Charter Treaty, p. 18; M. Gehring, A. Kent, Sustainable development and international investment agreements: from objective to practice, in A. De Mestral, C. Lévesque (eds.), Improving International Investment Agreements (Routledge, 2013), pp. 286288.

109 D. Magraw, L. Chennoufi, K. Cowling, et al., Model green investment treaty: international investment and climate change. Journal of International Arbitration 2019, 36(1): 95134 at p. 121.

110 European Commission, Study on Due Diligence Requirements through the Supply Chain, Final Report (2020).

111 Netherlands National Contact Point for the OECD Guidelines, Final Statement, 19 April 2019.

112 EU, Text Proposal, Sustainable Development – Impact Assessment.

113 Bernasconi-Osterwalder and Brauch, Redesigning the Energy Charter Treaty, p. 15.

114 Elrifai et al., A model multilateral treaty, p. 88.

115 C. Verburg, Modernising the Energy Charter Treaty: an opportunity to enhance legal certainty in investor–state dispute settlement. Journal of World Investment and Trade, 2019, 20(2–3): 425454, at p. 437.

116 Energy Charter Secretariat, Policy Options, 2–3; EU, Text Proposal, Part V, ECT Dispute Settlement.

117 Opened for signature 15 April 1994, 1867 UNTS 3, entered into force 1 January 1995.

118 Bernasconi-Osterwalder and Brauch, Redesigning the Energy Charter Treaty, pp. 15–17.

119 EU, Text Proposal, Sustainable Development – Impact Assessment, New article 28A: Settlement of Disputes on Trade and Sustainable Development Provisions between Contracting Parties.

120 Public Communication on the Second Negotiation Round on the Modernisation of the ECT, 11 September 2020. See Zhang, Analysis of the impact, p. 554.

121 EU, Text Proposal, Sustainable Development –Transparency.

11 Twin Transitions? Implementing Climate Policies in the European Union through Digital Transformation

1 M. E. Mondejar, R. Avtar, H. L. B. Diaz, et al., Digitalization to achieve sustainable development goals: steps towards a smart green planet. Science of the Total Environment 2021, 794: 1483539, at p. 2.

2 Y. K. Dwivedi, L. Hughes, A. K. Kar, et al., Climate change and COP26: are digital technologies and information management part of the problem or the solution? An editorial reflection and call to action. International Journal of Information Management 2022, 63: 102456, at p. 3.

3 UNDP, Handbook for Technology Needs Assessment for Climate Change (UNDP, 2010), p. 4.

4 SmartNation Singapore. www.smartnation.gov.sg.

5 SmartNation Singapore, Smart water meter. www.smartnation.gov.sg/initiatives/urban-living/smartwatermeter.

6 Dwivedi et al., Climate change and COP26, p. 4.

7 European Commission, European Green Deal, striving to be the first carbon-neutral continent. https://commission.europa.eu/strategy-and-policy/priorities-2019-2024/european-green-deal-en.

8 European Commission, A Digital Single Market for Europe, Communication from the Commission to the European Parliament, the Council, the European Economic and Social Committee and the Committee of the Regions. 6.5.2015COM(2015) 192 final, p. 8.

9 European Commission, A Europe fit for the digital age (2024). https://commission.europa.eu/strategy-and-policy/priorities-2019-2024/europe-fit-digital-age_en.

10 Footnote Ibid. at p. 4.

11 Footnote Ibid. at p. 9.

12 Footnote Ibid. at p. 13.

13 Footnote Ibid. at 14.

14 European Commission, 2030 Digital Compass: The European Way for the Digital Decade, 9.3.2021 COM(2021) 118 final, Communication to the European Parliament, the Council, the European Economic and Social Committee and the Committee of the Regions.

15 Footnote Ibid. at pp. 1, 3 and 19.

16 Footnote Ibid. at pp. 3–4.

17 European Commission, A New Industrial Strategy for Europe, Communication to the European Parliament, the European Council, the Council, the European Economic and Social Committee and the Committee of the Regions, 10.3.2020, COM(2020) 102 final.

18 Footnote Ibid. at p. 4.

19 Footnote Ibid. at p. 8.

20 Footnote Ibid. at p. 7.

21 Footnote Ibid. at p. 8.

22 European Commission, Proposal for a Regulation of the European Parliament and of the Council on Harmonised Rules on Fair Access to and Use of Data (Data Act), COM(2022) 68 final 2022/0047 (COD).

23 Footnote Ibid. at p. 2.

24 See article 3(h).

25 European Commission, European Declaration on Digital Rights and Principles for the Digital Decade (2022). https://digital-strategy.ec.europa.eu/en/library/declaration-european-digital-rights-and-principles#Declaration.

26 See, for instance, European Commission, Five Digital Solutions for a Greener Europe (2022). https://joint-research-centre.ec.europa.eu/jrc-news/5-digital-solutions-greener-europe-2022-07-05_en.

27 S. Muench, E. Stoermer, K. Jensen, et al., Towards a Green and Digital Future: Key Requirements for Successful Twin Transitions in the European Union (Publications Office of the European Union, 2022).

28 OECD, Definition of Electronic Commerce Transactions and Guidelines for Their Application (2022).

29 E. Barteková, P. Börkey, Digitalisation for the transition to a resource efficient and circular economy. OECD Environment Working Papers No. 192, 2022, pp. 5859.

30 Footnote Ibid. at p. 56.

31 Mondejar et al., Digitalization to achieve sustainable development goals, p. 2.

32 Cisco, Visual Networking Index: forecast and methodology, 2016–2021 (2018). https://library.cyentia.com/report/report_001291.html; ITU, Measuring digital development: facts and figures 2022. www.itu.int/en/ITU-D/Statistics/Pages/facts/default.aspx.

33 B. Ekholm, J. Rockström, Digital technology can cut global emissions by 15%. Here’s how (2019). www.weforum.org/agenda/2019/01/why-digitalization-is-the-key-to-exponential-climate-action; World Economic Forum, Five ways digitalization can help build global resilience in 2023. 13 January 2023. www.weforum.org/agenda/2023/01/5-ways-digitalization-can-help-build-global-resilience-davos2023.

34 Mondejar et al., Digitalization to achieve sustainable development goals, p. 3.

35 See, for example, S. Griffiths, Why your internet habits are not as clean as you think. BBC (6 March 2020). www.bbc.com/future/article/20200305-why-your-internet-habits-are-not-as-clean-as-you-think.

36 S. N. Bobylev, O. Yu. Chereshnya, M. Kulmala, et al., Sustainability indicators for digitalization of sustainable development goals in PEEX program. Geography, Environment, Sustainability 2018, 11(1): 145156, at p. 149.

37 A. Ryzhenkov, L. Burinova, Current issues of using digital technologies for environmental protection: legal aspect. SHS Web of Conferences 2021, 109: 01033, at p. 3.

38 E. Barteková, P. Börkey, Digitalisation for the transition to a resource efficient and circular economy. OECD Environment Working Papers no. 192 (2022), p. 16.

39 IEA, Digitalization and Energy (IEA, 2017), p. 85.

40 Mondejar et al., Digitalization to achieve sustainable development goals, p. 10.

41 A. D. Andersen, On digitalization and sustainability transitions. Environmental Innovation and Societal Transitions 2021, 41: 9698, at p. 97.

42 IEA, Digitalization and Energy, p. 83, Dwivedi et al., Climate change and COP26, p. 7.

43 IEA, Digitalization and Energy, p. 25.

45 Mondejar et al., Digitalization to achieve sustainable development goals, p. 13.

46 A. Maffei, S. Grahm, C. Nuur, Characterisation of the impact of digitalisation on the adoption of sustainable business models in manufacturing. Procedia CIRP 2019, 81: 765–770, at p. 769.

47 Barteková and Börkey, Digitalisation for the transition, p. 61.

48 See, for example, Additive Engineering, About additive engineering, 2023. https://additiveengineering.com.au/about-additive-engineering.

49 Dwivedi et al., Climate change and COP26, p. 12.

50 IEA, Digitalization and Energy, p. 42.

51 Footnote Ibid. at p. 29.

52 Footnote Ibid. at p. 35.

53 Footnote Ibid. at p. 31.

54 A. Burinskienė, M. Seržant, Digitalisation as the indicator of the evidence of sustainability in the European Union. Sustainability 2022, 14(14): 8371.

55 J. Yanes, Digital technologies: the climate impact that hardly anyone talks about (2022). www.bbvaopenmind.com/en/science/environment/climate-impact-digital-technologies.

56 F. Casalini, J. L. González, Trade and cross-border data flows. OECD paper, 2019, p. 33.

57 J. Achieng Owuor, L. Giessen, L. C. Prior, D. Cilio, G. Winkel, Trends in forest-related employment and tertiary education: insights from selected key countries around the globe. European Forest Institute report (2021). https://efi.int/publications-bank/trends-forest-related-employment-and-tertiary-education-insights-selected-key.

58 IEA, Digitalization and Energy, p. 29.

59 Footnote Ibid., p. 17.

60 Barteková and Börkey, Digitalisation for the transition, p. 40.

61 Ryzhenkov and Burinova, Current issues of using digital technologies for environmental protection, p. 4.

62 L. Belkhir, A. Elmeligi, Assessing ICT global emissions footprint: trends to 2040 & recommendations. Journal of Cleaner Production 2018, 177: 448–463.

63 Ryzhenkov and Burinova, Current issues of using digital technologies for environmental protection, p. 4.

64 European Environmental Bureau, Cool products don’t cost the Earth (Report Briefing, 2019).

65 Dwivedi et al., Climate change and COP26, p. 7.

66 A. Fehske, G. Fettweis, J. Malmodin, G. Biczok, The global footprint of mobile communications: the ecological and economic perspective. IEEE Communications Magazine 2011, 49(8): 5562.

67 Belkhir and Elmeligi, Assessing ICT global emissions footprint, p. 448.

68 H. Evangelidis, R. Davies, Are you aware of your digital carbon footprint? 2021. www.capgemini.com/gb-en/insights/expert-perspectives/are-you-aware-of-your-digital-carbon-footprint.

69 European Environmental Bureau, Cool products don’t cost the Earth.

70 P. Delforge, L. Schmidt, S. Schmidt, Home idle load: devices wasting huge amounts of electricity when not in active use. NRDC Issue Paper, 2015, p. 4.

71 European Environmental Bureau, Cool products don’t cost the Earth.

72 Delforge et al., Home idle load, pp. 4 and 16.

73 IEA, Digitalization and Energy, p. 43.

74 Shift Project, Rethinking the digitalization for low-carbon transition (2020). https://theshiftproject.org/en/article/implementing-digital-sufficiency.

75 H. Dough, The Impact of New and Emerging Internet Technologies on Climate Change and Human Rights: Submission to the Advisory Committee to the UN Human Rights Council (2019), para. 2.

76 S. Sareen, H. Haarstad, Digitalization as a driver of transformative environmental innovation. Environmental Innovation and Societal Transitions 2021, 41: 9395, at p. 94.

77 J. Martínez, R. Puertas, J. M. M. Martín, D. Ribeiro-Soriano, Innovation and environmental policies aimed at achieving sustainable production. Sustainable Production and Consumption 2022, 32: 92100.

78 Evangelidis and Davies, Are you aware of your digital carbon footprint?

79 UNDP, Technology Needs Assessment for Climate Change (UNDP, 2010), p. 4.

80 Meditationes Sacrae (1597); J. Bartlet, Familiar Quotations (Little, Brown and Co., 10th ed, 2019), p. 168.

81 W. F. Baber, The arts of the natural: Herbert Simon and artificial intelligence. Public Administration Quarterly 1988, 12(3): 329347, at pp. 331–37.

82 See, for example, H. A. Simon, The Sciences of the Artificial (MIT Press, 1969).

83 T. Roszak, The Cult of Information (Pantheon, 1986), at p. 133.

84 D. Miche, Computers that learn could lead to disaster. New Scientist 1980, p. 160.

85 J. Weizenbaum, Computer Power and Human Reason (W.H. Freeman, 1976), p. 230.

86 J. Habermas, The Theory of Communicative Action: Vol 2 – Lifeworld and System: A Critique of Functionalist Reason (Beacon Press, 1981), p. 399.

12 Carbon Sequestration and Ocean Governance: Emerging Challenges between Traditional Sovereign Rights and the Need for Global Regulation

1 For a thorough analysis of the impact of climate change on the environment, see D. Bodansky, J. Brunnée, L. Rajamani, International Climate Change Law (Oxford University Press, 2017).

2 See D. T. Maher, M. Call, I. R. Santos, C. J. Sanders, Beyond burial: lateral exchange is a significant atmospheric carbon sink in mangrove forests. Biology Letters 2018, 14(7): 20180200, p. 1.

3 U. Siegenthaler, J. L. Sarmiento, Atmospheric carbon dioxide and the ocean. Nature 1993, 365: 119125.

4 For a recent analysis of the impact of ship-born emissions on climate change see T. Van Geelen, The Paris Agreement’s White whale: the hunt for greater ambition on shipping emission. ILA Reporter (2 September 2021). https://ilareporter.org.au/2021/09/the-paris-agreements-white-whale-the-hunt-for-greater-ambition-on-shipping-emissions-tess-van-geelen.

5 For a thorough scrutiny of this matter, see G. E. Wannier, M. B. Gerrard, Disappearing states: harnessing international law to preserve cultures and society, in O. C. Ruppel, C. Roschmann, K. Ruppel-Schlichting (eds.), Climate Change: International Law and Global Governance (Nomos, 2013), pp. 615, 649.

6 On the relevance of the role of the oceans as carbon sinks to mitigate climate-change effects see also UNFCCC, Report of the Conference of the Parties on its Twenty-Sixth Session, held in Glasgow from 31 October to 13 November 2021, Glasgow Climate Pact, 13 November 2021, 17 Decision 1/CP.26, FCCC/CP/2021/12/Add.1, para. 50.

7 The need to reduce CO2 in the oceans and, thus, protect the marine environment has been recently highlighted in a declaration supporting the sustainable use of the oceans that was adopted during the 2022 UN Ocean Conference. See UN Conference to Support the Implementation of Sustainable Development Goal 14: Conserve and sustainably use the oceans, seas and marine resources for sustainable development, Declaration on ‘Our Ocean, Our Future, Our Responsibility’, Lisbon 17 June 2022, A/CONF.230/2022/12, para. 4.

8 For a definition of ‘carbon sequestration’, see N. E. Selin, Carbon sequestration, in Encyclopedia Britannica (16 January 2019). www.britannica.com/technology/carbon-sequestration.

9 For example, in some cases, private companies have attempted to enhance carbon sequestration in some marine areas by means of iron fertilisation. See the Haida Salmon Restoration Corporation case that occurred close to the Canadian coast, as referred to by K. N. Scott, Mind the gap: marine geoengineering and the law of the sea, in R. C. Beckman, M. McCreath, J. A. Roach, Z. Sun (eds.), High Seas Governance (Brill, 2019), p. 34 (footnote 82).

10 See D. Bodansky, The Ocean and climate change law. Exploring the relationships, in R. Barnes, R. Long (eds.), Frontiers in International Environmental Law: Oceans and Climate Challenges. Essays in Honour of David Freestone (Brill, 2021), p. 317. This author highlights that the UNFCCC only mentions the oceans and marine ecosystems in article 4(1)(d) in relation to the commitment to a sustainable management of carbon sinks and reservoirs. Similarly, the Paris Agreement only refers to the oceans in its preamble.

11 UN Convention on the Law of the Sea (UNCLOS), opened for signature 10 December 1982, 1833 UNTS 396, entered into force 16 November 1994.

12 Convention on the Prevention of Marine Pollution by Dumping of Wastes and Other Matters, opened for signature 29 December 1972, 1046 UNTS 120, entered into force 30 August 1975 (‘Anti-Dumping Convention’).

13 The MARPOL regime includes the 1973 International Convention for the Prevention of Pollution from Ships and Its Protocol (opened for signature 17 February 1978, 1340 UNTS 61, entered into force 2 October 1983).

14 Mitigation entails the general attempt to reduce the occurrence of a change in climate conditions, while adaptation is primarily aimed at fighting the noxious effects of such a change. On the different roles of climate-change norms and the law of the sea, see D. Bodansky, The ocean and climate change law, pp. 318–319.

15 P. W. Boyd, L. T. Bach, C. L. Hurd, et al., Potential negative effects of ocean afforestation on offshore ecosystems. Nature Ecology and Evolution 2022, 6: 675683.

16 Maher et al., Beyond burial, p. 1. The growth of mangrove forests in the coastal areas with the aim of reducing the presence of CO2 in the oceans has been also promoted within the framework of the 2022 UN Ocean Conference. See Secretary-General, 2022 UN Conference to Support the Implementation of Sustainable Development Goal 14: Conserve and sustainably use the oceans, seas and marine resources for sustainable development, Concept Paper, ‘Interactive Dialogue 2: Managing, Protecting, Conserving, and Restoring Marine and Coastal Ecosystems’, 29 April 2022, A/CONF.230/2022/10, para. 73(b). In his concept paper, the Secretary-General of the Conference highlights the significant contribution of some non-governmental programmes, such as the Blue Carbon Initiative and Global Mangrove Alliance, which currently carry out research studies to make ocean carbon sequestration effective.

17 For example, in the Haida Salmon Restoration Corporation case, a private company performed ocean fertilisation unbeknown to Canadian authorities. See Scott, Mind the gap, p. 34 (footnote 82).

18 Boyd et al., Potential negative effects of ocean afforestation, p. 675.

21 See A. L. Strong, J. J. Cullen, S. W. Chisholm, Ocean fertilization: science, policy, and commerce. Oceanography 2009, 22(3): 236261.

22 See Division on Earth and Life Studies National Research Council of the National Academies, National Academies of Sciences, Engineering, and Medicine, Climate Intervention: Carbon Dioxide Removal and Reliable Sequestration (The National Academies Press, 2015), pp. 46, 56.

23 Footnote Ibid. at p. 47.

24 Footnote Ibid. at p. 62.

26 Mid-depth ocean corresponds to waters that are located at a depth of 1000–3000 m. See Division on Earth and Life Studies National Research Council of the National Academies, National Academies of Sciences, Engineering, and Medicine, Climate Intervention, p. 80.

27 For example, CO2 may be injected into deep-sea basalt reservoirs. See Footnote ibid., pp. 80–81. Research studies relating to this type of carbon sequestration have also been encouraged during the 2022 UN Ocean Conference. See Secretary-General, 2022 UN Conference to Support the Implementation of Sustainable Development Goal 14: Conserve and Sustainably Use the Oceans, Seas and Marine Resources for Sustainable Development, Concept Paper, ‘Interactive Dialogue 3: Minimizing and Addressing Ocean Acidification, Deoxygenation and Ocean Warming’, 29 April 2022, UN Doc. A/CONF.230/2022/11, para. 36(a)(v).

28 G. Xue, Climate change challenges and the law of the sea responses, in O. C. Ruppel, C. Roschmann, K. Ruppel-Schlichting (eds.), Climate Change: International Law and Global Governance (Nomos, 2013), pp. 549, 555.

29 See the intergovernmental conference on an international legally binding instrument under the United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea on the conservation and sustainable use of marine biological diversity of areas beyond national jurisdiction, Agreement under the United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea on the conservation and sustainable use of marine biological diversity of areas beyond national jurisdiction, Further Resumed Fifth Session, 19 June 2023, A/CONF.232/2023/4*, https://documents-dds-ny.un.org/doc/UNDOC/LTD/N23/177/28/PDF/N2317728.pdf?OpenElement.

31 Article 211(2) of the UNCLOS.

32 Article 211 subsections (4) and (5), respectively.

33 For an example of this type of national legislation, see Republic of Seychelles, Blue Economy Strategic Framework and Roadmap. Charting the Future (2018–2030), 31 January 2018. www.seychellesconsulate.org.hk/download/Blue_Economy_Road_Map.pdf.

34 Article 211(3) of the UNCLOS.

35 For the view that the Paris Agreement is lex specialis with respect to the law of the sea, see Bodansky, The ocean and climate change law, p. 325.

36 For this view, see Footnote ibid., pp. 334–335.

37 Article 5 of the UNCLOS.

38 International Law Association, Committee on International Law and Sea Level Rise, Resolution 5/2018 (24 August 2018). www.ila-hq.org/images/ILA/Resolutions/ILAResolution_5_2018_SeaLevelRise.pdf. For a comment on this resolution see Bodansky, The ocean and climate change law, pp. 333–334.

39 Article 7 of the UNCLOS.

40 See I. Falefuafua Tapu, Finding Fonua: disappearing Pacific Island nations, sea level rise, and cultural rights. Arizona Law Review 2020, 63: 785803, at p. 786.

41 For an analysis of the right to self-determination in connection with State disappearance, see C. Moore, Waterworld: climate change, Statehood, and the right to self-determination’, in O. Quirico, M. Boumghar (eds.), Climate Change and Human Rights. An International and Comparative Law Perspective (Routledge, 2016), p. 104. On the relevance of the cultural rights of the population of disappearing island States, see Falefuafua Tapu, Finding Fonua, p. 803.

42 These types of rights mainly concern indigenous peoples. On the recognition of the rights of Nature and the link between peoples and waters, see E. J. MacPherson, Indigenous Water Rights in Law and Regulation (Cambridge, 2019).

43 The need to ascertain the impact of ocean carbon capture on the marine environment has been also highlighted during the 2022 UN Ocean Conference. See Secretary-General, 2022 UN Conference to Support the Implementation of Sustainable Development Goal 14: Conserve and Sustainably Use the Oceans, Seas and Marine Resources for Sustainable Development, Concept Paper, ‘Interactive Dialogue 6: Increasing Scientific Knowledge and Developing Research Capacity and Transfer of Marine Technology’, 29 April 2022, UN Doc. A/CONF.230/2022/6, para. 16.

44 Some States have recently promoted prospective activities in order to ascertain the feasibility of carbon sequestration measures. See, for example, the co-ordinated study promoted by Indonesia, Philippines, Thailand and Viet Nam. Asian Development Bank, Prospects for carbon capture and storage in Southeast Asia, Mandaluyong City, 2013. See also the research paper submitted by the United States to the 2022 UN Ocean Conference promoting blue carbon policies by adopting carbon sequestration measures: United States of America, UN Ocean Conference, Contributions from Member States to the Concept Papers on the Themes of the Interactive Dialogues, ‘Addressing Ocean Plastic Pollution’ (15 February 2022), p. 12. https://sdgs.un.org/sites/default/files/2022-02/US_20220221_U.S._Input_for_2022_UNOC_Concept_Paper.pdf.

45 Article 1(1)(4) of the UNCLOS defines ‘pollution of the marine environment’ as ‘the introduction by man, directly or indirectly, of substances or energy into the marine environment, including estuaries, which results or is likely to result in such deleterious effects as harm’ to living resources, human beings, human activities.

46 Boyd et al., Potential negative effects of ocean afforestation, p. 675.

47 Contracting Parties to the to the London Convention, Resolution LC-LP.1 on the Regulation of Ocean Fertilization, Thirtieth Meeting, 31 October 2008, LC 30/16 and Contracting Parties to the London Convention, Resolution LC-LP.2(2010) on the Assessment Framework for Scientific Research involving Ocean Fertilization, Thirty-Second Consultative Meeting, 14 October 2010, LC 32/15. For a thorough review of these resolutions, see Scott, Mind the gap, p. 46.

48 According to Annex 4 to be added to the 1996 Protocol, marine geoengineering is ‘a deliberate intervention in the marine environment to manipulate natural processes, including to counteract anthropogenic climate change and/or its impacts, and that has the potential to result in deleterious effects, especially where those effects may be widespread, long-lasting or severe’, while ‘ocean fertilisation’ entails ‘any activity undertaken by humans with the principal intention of stimulating primary productivity in the oceans’. Ocean fertilisation does not include ‘conventional aquaculture, or mariculture, or the creation of artificial reefs’. Contracting Parties to the 1996 Protocol to the Convention on the Prevention of Marine Pollution by Dumping of Wastes and Other Matter, Eighth Meeting, Resolution LP.4(8) on the Amendment to the London Protocol to Regulate the Placement of Matter for Ocean Fertilization and Other Marine Geoengineering Activities, 18 October 2013, Annex 4.

49 Contracting Parties to the 1996 Protocol to the Convention on the Prevention of Marine Pollution by Dumping of Wastes and Other Matter, Resolution LP.1(1) on the Amendment to Include CO2 Sequestration in Sub-Seabed Geological Formations in Annex 1 to the London Protocol, First Meeting, 2 November 2006.

50 Meeting of Contracting Parties to the 1996 Protocol to the Convention on the Prevention of Marine Pollution by Dumping of Wastes and other Matter, Fourth Meeting, Resolution LP.3(4) on the Amendment of article 6 of the London Protocol.

51 For a scientific point of view that impact assessment is necessary before starting afforestation activities, see Boyd et al., Potential negative effects of ocean afforestation, p. 675. For a legal standpoint that carbon sequestration measures must be adopted in accordance with existing international obligations, see Bodansky, The ocean and climate change law, p. 331.

52 Convention on Biological Diversity, signed 5 June 1992, 1760 UNTS 79, entered into force 29 December 1993.

53 Conference of the Parties to the Convention on Biological Diversity, Eleventh meeting, Decision XI/20. Climate-related geoengineering, 5 December 2012, UNEP/CBD/COP/DEC/XI/20, para. 8. On the contribution of the regime of the Convention on Biological Diversity to the analysis of the interaction between climate change and biological diversity, see K. N. Scott, Mind the gap, p. 52.

54 UN Conference to Support the Implementation of Sustainable Development Goal 14: Conserve and Sustainably Use the Oceans, Seas and Marine Resources for Sustainable Development, Declaration on ‘Our Ocean, Our Future, our responsibility’, para. 13.

55 On the economic advantages that may derive from the improvement of the conditions of marine ecosystems through the adoption of carbon sequestration measures see Secretary-General, 2022 UN Conference to Support the Implementation of Sustainable Development Goal 14: Conserve and sustainably use the oceans, seas and marine resources for sustainable development, Concept Paper, ‘Interactive Dialogue 5: Promoting and Strengthening Sustainable Ocean-Based Economies, in particular for Small Island Developing States and Least Developed Countries’, 29 April 2022, A/CONF.230/2022/5, para. 50.

56 For a thorough analysis of this matter, see S. Buck, The Global Commons. An Introduction (Island Press, 1998).

57 The Antarctic Treaty System includes the Antarctic Treaty, its attached Protocol, the legal acts adopted by the Treaty parties, and its associated legal instruments, such as the Convention on the Conservation of Antarctic Marine Living Resources (opened for signature 20 May 1980, 1329 UNTS 47, entered into force 7 April 1982).

58 Antarctic Treaty, opened for signature 1 December 1959, 402 UNTS 71, entered into force 23 June 1961.

59 On the analysis of the concept of ‘bifocal approach’ see T. Scully, ‘The development of the Antarctic Treaty System, in P. A. Berkman, M. A. Lang, D. W. H. Walton, R. Oran (eds.), Science Diplomacy: Antarctica, Science, and the Governance of International Spaces (Smithsonian, 2011), pp. 29, 31.

60 Article IV(c) of the Antarctic Treaty provides that ‘[n]othing contained in the present Treaty shall be interpreted as … prejudicing the position of any Contracting Party as regards its recognition or non-recognition of any other State’s right of or claim or basis of claim to territorial sovereignty in Antarctica’.

61 Protocol on Environmental Protection to the Antarctic Treaty, opened for signature October 1991, 2941 UNTS 3.

62 Article 2 of the Protocol on Environmental Protection. For a comment on the application of the ecosystem approach in Antarctica, see S. K. N. Blay, New trends in the protection of the Antarctic environment: The 1991 Madrid Protocol. American Journal of International Law 1992, 86: 377–399.

63 Article 8 of the Protocol on Environmental Protection.

64 Article 11 of the Protocol on Environmental Protection.

65 For an analysis of the precautionary principle and its relationship with the ecosystem approach, see A. Trouwborst, The precautionary principle and the ecosystem approach in international law: differences, similarities and linkages. Review of European Community & International Environmental Law 2009, 18: 26–37.

66 In order to bring attention to the issue of climate change, several documents were drafted by the Antarctic and Southern Ocean Coalition (ASOC), a non-governmental organisation interested in Antarctic issues, and the Scientific Committee on Antarctic Research (SCAR), a governmental agency that promotes Antarctic scientific research. See ASOC, Antarctic Warming: Early Signs of a Climate Change, XIX ATCM/IP056 1995; Footnote Id., Climate Changes and Antarctica, XXII ATCM/IP109 1998; Footnote Id., The Antarctic and Climate Change, XXVIII ATCM/IP104 2005; SCAR, Climate Change: An Antarctic Perspective, ATCM XXIX/IP076 2006.

67 The group was named ‘Antarctic Treaty Meeting of Experts on the implications of climate change for the management and governance of Antarctica’. See Antarctic Treaty Consultative Meeting, Final Report of the XXXII Antarctic Treaty Consultative Meeting, Baltimore, 2009, 28, para. 52.

68 Norway–United Kingdom, Report from Antarctic Treaty Meeting of Experts on Implications of Climate Change for Antarctic Management and Governance, XXXIII ATCM/WP63, 2010.

69 Antarctic Treaty Consultative Meeting, Resolution 4 (2015), CEP Climate Change Response Work Programme.

70 Antarctic Treaty Consultative Meeting, Decision 1 (2017), Subsidiary Group of the Committee for Environmental Protection on Climate Change Response (SGCCR).

71 In this regard, the concern of the parties to the Antarctic Treaty was raised by the 2009 LOHAFEX experiment, a joint iron fertilisation experiment carried out in 2009 by the Alfred Wegener Institute for Polar and Marine Research and the Indian National Institute of Oceanography. Approximately 6 tons of dissolved iron were applied to a 300 km2 area that was located around 48° South latitude and, thus, outside the Antarctic Treaty geographic scope. Although the norms of the Antarctic Treaty could not apply in this case, the States parties to the Antarctic Treaty anyway recommended that research entities involved in the experiment carry out some type of previous impact assessment in order to prevent serious harm to the sub-Antarctic and Antarctic marine ecosystems. For an overview of this case, see D. L. VanderZwaag, Ocean dumping and fertilization in the Antarctic: tangled legal currents, sea of challenges, in P. A. Berkman et al., Science Diplomacy, pp. 245–252.

72 For a recent comment on this matter see C. L. Hurd, C. S. Law, L. T. Bach, et al., Forensic carbon accounting: assessing the role of seaweeds for carbon sequestration. Journal of Psychology 2022, 58: 347363, at p. 359.

73 Articles 200 and 202 of the UNCLOS.

74 The need to share scientific information relating to carbon sequestration mechanisms with respect to developing countries has also been emphasised during the 2022 UN Ocean Conference. See UN Conference to Support the Implementation of Sustainable Development Goal 14, Declaration on ‘Our Ocean, Our Future, Our Responsibility’, para. 14(a).

75 For a similar view, see H. A. Strydom, Some perspectives on global governance, judicial review and climate change, in O. C. Ruppel, C. Roschmann, K. Ruppel-Schlichting (eds.), Climate Change: International Law and Global Governance (Nomos, 2013), pp. 687, 689.

76 In this regard, the 2022 UN Ocean Conference has underscored the need to avoid the unnecessary proliferation of international legal instruments that may raise overlaps and conflicts within the international context. In fact, paragraph 10 of the Conference’s declaration states that ‘we [that is, the State parties] emphasize that our actions to implement Goal 14 should be in accordance with, reinforce and not duplicate or undermine existing legal instruments, arrangements, processes, mechanisms, or entities. We affirm the need to enhance the conservation and sustainable use of oceans and their resources by implementing international law as reflected in the United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea, which provides the legal framework for the conservation and sustainable use of the oceans and their resources’. UN Conference to Support the Implementation of Sustainable Development Goal 14: Conserve and sustainably use the oceans, seas and marine resources for sustainable development, Declaration on ‘Our ocean, Our Future, Our Responsibility’, para. 10.

13 Climate Change and the Arctic: A Study of Paradoxical Linkages in Complex Systems

1 Arctic Council, Declaration on the Establishment of the Arctic Council, 19 September 1996. http://hdl.handle.net/11374/85.

2 C. S. Holling, L. H. Gunderson, Resilience and adaptive cycles, in L. H. Gunderson, C. S. Holling (eds.), Panarchy: Understanding Transformations in Human and Natural Systems (Island Press, 2002), pp. 2652; M. Scheffer, Critical Transitions in Nature and Society (Princeton University Press, 2009).

3 AMAP, Arctic Climate Change Update 2021: Key Trends and Impacts. Summary for Policy-makers (2021). amap.no/documents/doc/arctic-climate-change-update-2021-key-trends-and-impacts-summary-for-policy-makers/3508.

4 M. C. Serreze, Brave New Arctic: The Untold Story of the Melting North (Princeton University Press, 2018).

5 P. Wadhams, A Farewell to Ice: A Report from the Arctic (Oxford University Press, 2017).

6 T. Lenton, H. Held, E. Kriegler, et al., Tipping elements in the Earth’s climate system. Proceedings of the National Academy of Science USA 2008, 105(6): 17861793; M. Scheffer, Critical Transitions in Nature and Society.

7 T. Lenton, Arctic tipping points. Ambio 2012, 41: 1022.

8 J. Gertner, The Ice at the End of the World (Random House, 2019).

9 NOAA, Arctic Report Card 2019 (NOAA, 2019). www.arctic.noaa.gov/Report-Card.

10 AMAP, Arctic Climate Change Update 2021: Key Trends and Impacts. Summary for Policy-makers (2021). amap.no/documents/doc/arctic-climate-change-update-2021-key-trends-and-impacts-summary-for-policy-makers/3508.

11 NOAA, Arctic Report Card 2019; IPCC, Climate Change 2021 – The Physical Science Basis: Summary for Policymakers (IPCC, 2021).

12 O. S. Stokke, A. Østhagen, A. Raspotnik (eds.), Marine Resources: Climate Change, and International Management Regimes (I.B. Tauris, 2022).

13 AHDR, Arctic Human Development Report (SDWG, Arctic Council, 2004). http://hdl.jhandle.net/11374/51; AHDR, Arctic Human Development Report: Regional Processes and Global Linkages (Nordic Council of Ministers, 2014).

14 T. Mitrova, Arctic resource development: economics and politics, in R. W. Corell, J. D. Kim, Y. H. Kim, et al. (eds.), The Arctic in World Affairs: A North Pacific Dialogue on Global–Arctic Interactions: The Arctic Moves from Periphery to Center (Korea Maritime Institute and East–West Center, 2019), pp. 205224.

15 Footnote Ibid., p. 205.

16 J. Yang, H. Tillman, Perspective from China’s international cooperation in the framework of the polar Silk Road, in R. W. Corell et al. (eds.), The Arctic in World Affairs, pp. 275–292.

17 Arctic Council, Russia’s Chairmanship Programme for the Arctic Council 2021–2023 (2021). oaarchive.arctic-council.org.

18 Protocol on Environmental Protection to the Antarctic Treaty, opened for signature 4 October 1991, entered into force 14 January 1998.

19 Declaration on the establishment of the Arctic Council, Ottawa, 1996.

20 T. Barry, B. Daviðsdóttir, N, Einarsson, O. R. Young, How does the Arctic Council support conservation of Arctic biodiversity? Sustainability 2020, 12(12): 5042; M. Smieszek, Informal International Regimes: A Case Study of the Arctic Council. (University of Lapland, 2019).

21 D. P. Stone, The Changing Arctic Environment: The Arctic Messenger (Cambridge University Press, 2015).

22 ACIA, Arctic Climate Impact Assessment (Cambridge University Press, 2005).

23 Joint Statement on Arctic Council Cooperation Following Russia’s Invasion of Ukraine (3 March 2022). state.gov/joint-statement-on-arctic-council-cooperation-following-russias-invasion-of-ukraine.

24 M. Scheffer, Critical Transitions in Nature and Society; O. R. Young, Governing Complex Systems: Social Capital for the Anthropocene (MIT Press, 2017).

25 V. Smil, Grand Transitions: How the Modern World Was Made (Oxford University Press, 2020).

26 C. Folke, Resilience: The emergence of a perspective for social–ecological systems analyses. Global Environmental Change 2006, 16: 253267; Holling and Gunderson, Resilience and adaptive cycles.

27 O. R. Young, Grand Challenges of Planetary Governance: Global Order in Turbulent Times (Edward Elgar, 2021).

28 Young, Governing Complex Systems.

29 D. Kahneman, Thinking Fast and Slow (Farrar, Straus, and Giroux, 2011).

14 The European Union’s Carbon Border Adjustment Mechanism as a (Generally Lawful) Countermeasure

1 For an overview of different carbon pricing schemes, see A. Sapir, The European Union’s Carbon Border Mechanism and the WTO (2021). www.bruegel.org/blog-post/european-unions-carbon-border-mechanism-and-wto.

2 Proposal for a regulation of the European Parliament and of the Council Establishing a Carbon Border Adjustment Mechanism, COM(2021) 564 final, 2021/0214 (COD) (14 July 2021); Regulation (EU) 2023/956 of the European Parliament and of the Council of 10 May 2023 Establishing a Carbon Border Adjustment Mechanism, OJ L 130/52, 16 May 2023.

3 For an overview of problems of legality raised by CBAMs, see J. Bacchus, Legal Issues with the European Carbon Border Adjustment Mechanism. CATO Briefing Paper, 2021; M. S. Andersen, Border adjustment with taxes or allowances to level the price of carbon, in H. Ashiabor, J. E. Milne, M. Hymel, L. Kreiser (eds.), Innovation Addressing Climate Change Challenges (EE, 2018), pp. 2930.

4 See A. Pirlot, Carbon border adjustment measures: a straightforward multi-purpose climate change instrument? Journal of Environmental Law 2022, 34(1): 2552; G. C. Leonelli, Practical obstacles and structural legal constraints in the adoption of ‘defensive’ policies: comparing the EU carbon border adjustment mechanism and the US proposal for a border carbon adjustment. Legal Studies 2022, 42(4): 696714, at p. 697.

5 Accoring to Hans Kelsen ( General Theory of Norms, trans. M. Hartney (Clarendon Press, 1991), p. 142), primary norms create obligations, while secondary norms regulate infringements and sanctions.

6 Leonelli, Practical obstacles and structural legal constraints, pp. 697–698.

7 European Parliament, A WTO-Compatible EU Carbon Border Adjustment Mechanism, Doc. A9-0019/2021 (10 March 2021).

8 Footnote Ibid. at para. 12.

9 Footnote Ibid. at para. 7.

10 European Council, Fit for 55: How the EU Will Turn Climate Goals into Law. 2024. www.consilium.europa.eu/en/infographics/fit-for-55-how-the-eu-will-turn-climate-goals-into-law.

11 European Council, Fit for 55: How Does the EU Intend to Address the Emissions outside of the EU? 2024. www.consilium.europa.eu/en/infographics/fit-for-55-cbam-carbon-border-adjustment-mechanism.

12 Regulation (EU) 2018/1999 of the European Parliament and of the Council on the Governance of the Energy Union and Climate Action (11 December 2018).

13 See P. Lamy, G. Pons, P. Leturcq, A European border carbon adjustment proposal. Renewable Energy Law & Policy Review 2020, 10(1): 2130; G. M. Durán, EU carbon border adjustment mechanism: key issues going forward. European Foreign Affairs Review 2021, 26(4): 499506, at pp. 500–502; Pirlot, Carbon border adjustment measures, p. 38.

14 European Commission, Carbon Border Adjustment Mechanism. 2024. https://taxation-customs.ec.europa.eu/green-taxation-0/carbon-border-adjustment-mechanism_en.

15 A. Dumitru, B. Kölbl, M. Wijffelaars, The carbon border adjustment mechanism explained. 16 July 2021. https://economics.rabobank.com/publications/2021/july/cbam-carbon-border-adjustment-mechanism-eu-explained.

16 See A. Marcu, D. Dybka, Status of the Border Carbon Adjustments’ International Developments. European Roundtable on Climate Change and Sustainable Transition, 2021; M. A. Mehling, H. van Asselt, K. Das, S. Droege, C. Verkuijl, Designing border carbon adjustments for enhanced climate action. American Journal of International Law 2019, 113(3): 433481, at p. 456.

17 N. S. Ghaleigh, D. Rossati, The spectre of carbon border-adjustment measures. Climate Law 2011, 2(1): 6384, at pp. 76 ff.; Mehling et al., Designing border carbon adjustments for enhanced climate action, p. 448.

18 A Bill to Amend the Internal Revenue Code of 1986 to Establish a Border Carbon Adjustment for the Importation of Certain Goods, H.R. 4535.

19 Leonelli, Practical obstacles and structural legal constraints, pp. 5–6.

20 Footnote Ibid. at p. 8; T. Oates, Carbon border adjustment methods. Frontiers in Ecology and the Environment 2022, 20(4): 206.

21 M. S. Andersen, Border adjustment with taxes or allowances to level the price of carbon, p. 24; Leonelli, Practical obstacles and structural legal constraints, p. 9; Pirlot, Carbon border adjustment measures, p. 39.

22 A. D. Mitchell, E. Sheargold, Principles of International Trade and Investment Law (EE, 2022), p. 127.

23 Mehling et al., Designing border carbon adjustments, p. 441; M. Keen, I. Parry, J. Roaf, Border Carbon Adjustments: Rationale, Design and Impact. IMF Working Paper, 2021, pp. 67; V. Doix, Border tax adjustments: qualification and interactions with the international trade system. Revue internationale de droit économique 2020, 3: 319342.

24 M. Herdegen, Principles of International Economic Law, 2nd ed. (OUP, 2016), p. 57.

27 This remains true regardless of developments in the reform of the WTO, which mostly concerns negotiation and dispute settlement procedures as well as the integration of sustainability and the status of developing countries (see WTO, WTO Reforms: An Overview, MC12 Briefing Note, www.wto.org/english/thewto_e/minist_e/mc12_e/briefing_notes_e/bfwtoreform_e.htm).

28 J. Bacchus, Legal Issues with the European Carbon Border Adjustment Mechanism. CATO Briefing Paper 125/2021, p. 3.

29 Footnote Ibid.; Leonelli, Practical obstacles and structural legal constraints, p. 12.

30 G. Mörsdorf, A simple fix for carbon leakage? Assessing the environmental effectiveness of the EU carbon border adjustment. Energy Policy 2022 (161): 112596.

31 Bacchus, Legal issues, at pp. 3–5.

32 US – Import Prohibition of Certain Shrimp and Shrimp Products. Appellate Body Report, WT/ DS58/AB/R, 12 October 1998, at paras. 164 and 177. On the importance of multilateralism in the adoption of CBAMs, see J. Delbeke, A Way Forward for a Carbon Border Adjustment Mechanism by the EU. STG Policy Brief, 2020. https://cadmus.eui.eu/handle/1814/69155.

33 US – Taxes on Automobiles. Panel Report, DS 31/ R, 11 October 1994, at paras. 5.39 ff.

34 Pub L. 101–549, 104 Stat 2468.

35 United States – Standards for Reformulated and Conventional Gasoline: Request for Consultations under Article XXII:1 of GATT 1994 by Venezuela. Appellate Body Report, WT/ DS2/ AB/ R (29 April 1996).

36 Brazil – Measures Affecting Imports of Re-treaded Tyres. WT/DS332/AB/R, 3 December 2007.

37 Japan – Alcoholic Beverages II. WT/DS8/AB/R, WT/DS10/AB/R, WT/DS11/AB/R, 1 November 1996, at 21 and 25.

38 Scholars have discussed the question whether highly polluting products are ‘like’ green products (see Leonelli, Practical obstacles and structural legal constraints, p. 12); however, if ‘green’ and ‘non-green’ products were to be deemed ‘unlike’ products, CBAMs would not be justified to level differences in pollution, and thus, for the purpose of our analysis, we consider that greening is the rationale of CBAMs rather than an element of the product itself.

39 Leonelli, Practical obstacles and structural legal constraints, p. 12.

40 Case No. 09–30623, 7 April 2010.

41 Case No. 09–02048, 1 October 2013. See also B. Nathan, E. Chafetz, Electricity as a good or a service: some shocking developments. Business Credit, 2013.

42 See, for instance, J. Suh, Carbon border adjustment: a unilateral solution to the multilateral problem? International Environmental Agreements: Politics, Law and Economics, 2022, 715733; A. Arko, A Canadian border carbon adjustment? GATT compliance and underexplored exceptions. Global Trade & Customs Journal 2021, 16(9): 446458.

43 T. Kuusi, M. Björklund, V. Kaitala, et al., Carbon Border Adjustment Mechanisms and Their Economic Impact on Finland and the EU. Prime Minister’s Office, Helsinki (2020), p. 45.

44 H. Wang, X. Huang, X, Zhao, J. He, Key global climate governance problems and Chinese countermeasures. Chinese Journal of Population, Resources and Environment 2021, 19(2): 125132.

45 C. E. McLure, Jr., The GATT – Legality of border adjustments for carbon taxes and the cost of emissions permits: a riddle, wrapped in a mystery, inside an enigma. Florida Tax Review 2011, 11(4): 221294; Ghaleigh and Rossati, The spectre of carbon border adjustment measures, p. 82; C. Bellora, L. Fontagné, Possible Carbon Adjustment Policies: An Overview, Report to the European Parliament. 2020, p. 11; J. Englisch, T. Falcão, EU carbon border adjustments and WTO law, part one. Environmental Law Reporter 2021, 51(10): 10857; J. Englisch, T. Falcão, EU carbon border adjustment and WTO law: part two. Environmental Law Reporter: News & Analysis 2021, 51(11): 10935.

47 This is without considering issues such as common but differentiated responsibility, which must naturally be taken into account, and which increase the asymmetries of CBAMs and the difficulty of designing them as lawful mechanisms (see I. Ozai, Designing an equitable border carbon adjustment mechanism. Canadian Tax Journal 2022, 70(1): 133).

48 S. Robert, Un mécanisme d’ajustement carbone aux frontières compatible avec le droit de l’OMC: une gageure. European Papers 2022, 7(1): 239252. Along these lines, see also European Commission, Reforming the WTO: Towards a sustainable and effective multilateral trading system (2021).

49 M. Koskenniemi, Report on the Fragmentation of International Law. UN Doc. A/CN.4/L.682, 2006.

50 See, for instance, M. Fitzmaurice, Responsibility and climate change. German Yearbook of International Law 2010, 53: 89–138.

51 D. Bodansky, The legal character of the Paris Agreement. Review of European, Comparative and International Environmental Law 2016, 25(2): 142–150, at p. 146; B. Mayer, Obligations of conduct in the international law on climate change: a defence. Review of European, Comparative and International Environmental Law 2018, 27: 130–140, at p. 135; Stichting Urgenda v. The State of The Netherlands (Ministry of Economic Affairs and Climate Policy), Hague District Court, Case C/09/456689/HA ZA 13–1396, Judgment, 24 June 2015, para. 4.42.

52 ILC, Report on the Work of Its Seventieth Session, Guidelines on the Protection of the Atmosphere. UN Doc. A/73/10 159 (2018), 174176.

53 UNEP, Comments on the ILC’s Draft Guidelines on the Protection of the Atmosphere (2020). p. 4. https://legal.un.org/docs/?path=../ilc/sessions/72/pdfs/english/poa_unep.pdf&lang=E.

54 Bodansky, The legal character of the Paris Agreement, p. 146; Mayer, Obligations of conduct, p. 134; B. Mayer, Temperature targets and state obligations on the mitigation of climate change. Journal of Environmental Law 2021, 33(3): 585610, at pp. 600–601.

55 R. Wolfrum, Obligations of result versus obligations of conduct: some thoughts about the implementation of international obligations, in M. H. Arsanjani, J. K. Cogan, R. D. Sloane, S. Wiessner (eds.), Looking to the Future (Brill, 2010), pp. 363383, at pp. 366–367.

56 Emphasis added.

57 Wolfrum, Obligations of result versus obligations of conduct, pp. 368 and 373.

58 Mayer, Obligations of conduct, pp. 132 and 137–138.

59 Topical Summary of the Discussion Held in the Sixth Committee of the General Assembly during its Seventy-Third Session on The Work of the ILC of its Seventieth Session (2018). UN Doc. A/CN.4/724 (2019), at 21, para. 107.

60 See Peremptory Norms of General International Law (Jus Cogens), Text of the Draft Conclusions and Draft Annex Provisionally Adopted by the Drafting Committee on First Reading. UN Doc. A/CN.4/L.936, at 1, Draft Conclusion, 2[3(1)], Definition of a Peremptory Norm of General International Law (Jus Cogens); D. Tladi, Fourth Report to the International Law Commission on Peremptory Norms of General International Law (Jus Cogens). UN Doc. A/CN.4/727 (2019), at pp. 61–62, para. 136.

61 Trail Smelter (US v. Canada), 16 April 1938 and 11 March 1941, 3 RIAA 1907, 1965.

62 Lac Lanoux (France v. Spain), Award (1957) 12 RIAA 281.

63 ILC, Report on the Work of Its Fifty-Sixth Session. UN Doc. A/56/10, 2001, at p. 148.

64 UN Conference on the Human Environment. Report. UN Doc. A/CONF/48/14.REV.1, 16 June 1972.

65 Legality of the Threat or Use of Nuclear Weapons (Advisory Opinion) [1996] ICJ Rep 226, 241–242, para. 29.

66 Ghaleigh and Rossati, The spectre of carbon border-adjustment measures, p. 66.

15 Corporate Self-Regulation and the Climate: The Legal Trajectory of Sustainability Due Diligence in the European Union

1 Fair or just transition describes ‘the need to avoid unilaterally imposing the burden of these inevitable but necessary changes on workers and disadvantaged communities.’ For trade unions, just transition aims at ‘smoothing the shift towards a more sustainable society and providing hope for the capacity of a green economy to sustain decent jobs and livelihoods for all’. See Platform for Sustainable Finance, Social Taxonomy – Draft Report (July 2021).

2 UN Guiding Principles on Business and Human Rights, A/HRC/17/31 (2011) (UNGPs).

3 OECD Committee on Consumer Policy, Industry Self-Regulation: Role and Use in Supporting Consumer Interests (OECD Digital Economy Papers, No. 247, 2015), pp. 1819.

4 D. Sinclair, Self-regulation versus command and control – beyond false dichotomies. Law & Policy 1997, 19(4): 529559 (arguing that false dichotomies do not describe the range of policies and constrain refinements of regulation).

5 Sustainable finance refers to ‘the process of taking due account of environmental and social considerations in investment decision-making, leading to increased investments in longer-term and sustainable activities.’ See European Commission, Action Plan on Financing Sustainable Growth (2018).

6 M. Friedman, A Friedman doctrine – the social responsibility of business is to increase its profits. New York Times Magazine, 13 September 1970.

7 See, for example, the chemical industry’s Responsible Care initiative after a series of environmental disasters in the 1980s. J. Rees, Development of communitarian regulation in the chemical industry. Law and Policy 1997, 19(4): 477528.

8 European Declaration of Businesses against Social Exclusion (1995).

9 J. Ruggie, The Paradox of Corporate Globalization: Disembedding and Reembedding Governing Norms. M-RCBG Faculty Working Paper Series (2020) (writing that ‘CSR was neoliberalism’s answer to the social and environmental externalities it was enabling’).

10 European Council, Lisbon Strategy (2000) (the most dynamic and competitive knowledge-based economy in the world, capable of sustainable economic growth with more and better jobs and greater social cohesion, and respect for the environment).

11 Published in 2001, 2002, 2006, and 2011. See, for references, A Renewed EU Strategy 2011–14 for Corporate Social Responsibility, Communication COM(2011) 681 final (25.10.2011).

12 UN Subcommission for the Protection of Human Rights, UN Norms on the Responsibilities of TNCs (2003).

13 A Renewed EU Strategy 2011–14 for Corporate Social Responsibility (CSR as ‘a concept whereby companies integrate social and environmental concerns in their business operations and in their interaction with their stakeholders on a voluntary basis’).

14 R. Reich, Saving Capitalism: For the Many, Not the Few (Alfred Knopf, 2015), arguing that rising inequalities are the result of a systematic modification of myriad of laws that markets depend on, questioning the free market myth and exposing the concentration of political power in corporate and financial elites able to influence law-making.

15 J. Ruggie, Just Business: Multinational Corporations and Human Rights (Northon, 2013). See also R. Mares, Draft UN Treaty on Business and Human Rights, in A. Marx, G. Van Calster, J, Wouters, K. Otteburn, D. Lica (eds), Research Handbook on Business and Human Rights (Edward Elgar, 2022), p. 22 (identifying a dozen governance gaps that a UN treaty on BHR would potentially address).

16 S. Deva, Regulating Corporate Human Rights Violations – Humanizing Business (Routledge, 2012), explaining a threefold deficiency in CSR and regulatory frameworks.

17 M. Friedman, A Friedman .

18 F. A. Hayek, The corporation in a democratic society: in whose interest ought it and will it be run?, in H. I. Ansoff (ed.), Business Strategy: Selected Readings (Penguin books, Harmondsworth, 1969), p. 231.

19 G. Kell, The global compact: selected experiences and reflections. Journal of Business Ethics 2005, 59(1–2): 6979.

20 D. Vogel, The Market for Virtue: The Potential and Limits of Corporate Social Responsibility (Brookings Institution Press, 2005).

21 See, for example, the Forest Stewardship Council’s timber certification scheme (FSC) as a response to States’ lack of action at the 1992 Rio Summit. See also E. E. Meidinger, ‘Private’ environmental regulation, human rights, and community. Buffalo Environmental Law Journal 2000, 7: 123238.

22 P. Alston, The ‘not-a-cat’ syndrome: can the international human rights regime accommodate non-state actors?, in P. Alston (ed.), Non-State Actors and Human Rights (Oxford University Press, 2005), p. 3.

23 See, P. M. Muchlinski, ‘Global Bukowina’ examined: viewing the multinational enterprise as a transnational law-making community, in G. Teubner (ed.), Global Law without a State (Dartmouth, 1997), p. 79.

24 Ruggie, The paradox of corporate globalization.

25 Ruggie, Just Business (drawing an Amartya Sen’s concept of human rights). See also Mares, Draft UN Treaty on Business and Human Rights.

27 A Renewed EU Strategy 2011–14 for Corporate Social Responsibility (redefining CSR as ‘the responsibility of enterprises for their impacts on society’).

28 R. Mares, Securing human rights through risk-management methods: breakthrough or misalignment? Leiden Journal of International Law 2019, 32(3): 1–19.

29 Ruggie, Just Business. See also Mares, Draft UN Treaty on Business and Human Rights.

30 Vogel, The Market for Virtue.

31 J. G. Ruggie, Life in the Global Public Domain: Response to Commentaries on the UN Guiding Principles and the Proposed Treaty on Business and Human Rights (2015).

32 A Renewed EU Strategy 2011–14 (the development of CSR should be led by enterprises themselves. Public authorities should play a supporting role through a smart mix of voluntary policy measures and, where necessary, complementary regulation, for example to promote transparency, create market incentives for responsible business conduct, and ensure corporate accountability).

33 Pub L. 111–203, 124 Stat 1376–2223.

34 Directive 2013/34/EU (2013) (Accounting Directive).

35 Directive 2014/95/EU (2014) (Non-Financial Reporting Directive).

36 Regulation (EU) 2017/821 (2017) (Conflict Minerals Regulation).

37 European Parliament, Motion for a European Parliament Resolution on Corporate Social Responsibility: A New Partnership (2006/2133(INI)) (20 December2006) (referring to mandatory reporting as ‘the ultimate appropriate regulation’).

38 R. Mares, Corporate transparency regulations: a hollow victory? Netherlands Quarterly of Human Rights 2018, 36(3), p. 189.

39 W. P. de Groen, C. Alcidi, F. Simonelli, et al., Study on the Non-Financial Reporting Directive – Final Report (CEPS, 2020).

40 UNCTAD, Better Trade for Sustainable Development: The Role of Voluntary Sustainability Standards (2021).

41 MSI Integrity, Not Fit-for-Purpose – The Grand Experiment of Multi-Stakeholder Initiatives in Corporate Accountability, Human Rights and Global Governance (2020).

42 UNWG, Guiding Principles on Business and Human Rights at 10: Taking Stock of the First Decade (2021), p. 25.

43 European Commission, Proposal for a Directive on Corporate Sustainability Due Diligence (2022) (CSDDD), p. 38.

44 World Economic Forum, Shared Responsibility: A New Paradigm for Supply Chains (2015).

45 Regarding the green transition, the International Platform on Sustainable Finance writes: ‘To reach the target of a maximum temperature increase of 2°C, we need trillions of green investments every year flowing to key sectors of the global economy. Public finance will continue to play a key role, but a substantial part of financing will have to come from the private sector’ (Factsheet, 2021). Regarding sustainable development, ‘[b]etween $3.3–4.5 trillion a year needs to be mobilised in order to achieve the objectives of the 2030 Agenda for Sustainable Development. At today’s level of both public and private investment in SDG related sectors, developing countries face an average annual funding gap of $2.5 trillion.’ See Platform for Sustainable Finance, Social Taxonomy – Draft Report (July 2021).

46 European Commission, Final Report of the EU High-Level Expert Group on Sustainable Finance (2018).

47 European Commission, TEG Final Report on the EU Taxonomy (2020).

48 European Commission, Action Plan on Financing Sustainable Growth (2018).

49 The European Green Deal, COM(2019) 640 final (11.12.2019).

50 Regulation on the Establishment of a Framework to Facilitate Sustainable Investment, Regulation (EU) 2020/852.

51 Strategy for Financing the Transition to a Sustainable Economy, Communication COM(2021) 390 (6 July 2021).

52 De Groen et al., Study on the Non-Financial Reporting Directive.

53 L. Smith, C. Bright, R. McCorquodale, et al., Study on Due Diligence Requirements through the Supply Chain – Final Report (European Commission, 2020).

54 E&Y, Study on Directors’ Duties and Sustainable Corporate Governance – Final Report (2020).

55 European Commission, Proposal for a Directive on Corporate Sustainability Due Diligence (2022).

56 Speech by Commissioner Reynders, RBC Webinar on Due Diligence (30 April 2020).

57 ‘To promote corporate governance that is more conducive to sustainable investments, the Commission … will carry out analytical and consultative work with relevant stakeholders to assess: (i) the possible need to require corporate boards to develop and disclose a sustainability strategy, including appropriate due diligence throughout the supply chain, and measurable sustainability targets; and (ii) the possible need to clarify the rules according to which directors are expected to act in the company’s long-term interest.’ See European Commission, Action Plan on Financing Sustainable Growth (2018).

58 European Commission, Final report of the EU High-Level Expert Group on Sustainable Finance (2018).

59 The main reference in the Plan was that ‘[s]ocial factors, such as poor working conditions and growing inequalities can have concrete consequences for financial institutions including legal risks … Legal and reputational damage may well ultimately lead to financial losses. Similarly, growing income inequality can hamper long-term, stable growth: research by the IMF has shown that rising inequality and fragile growth are linked.’ Footnote Ibid.

60 Smith et al., Study on Due Diligence Requirements.

61 European Commission, Proposal for a Directive on Corporate Sustainability Due Diligence (2022) (CSDDD), pp. 17–18.

62 Footnote Ibid., articles 19 and 21.

63 Footnote Ibid., articles 6–7, and 15.

64 Consultations from 2021 and 2022 available on the dedicated EU website: Corporate Sustainability Due Diligence – Fostering Sustainability in Corporate Governance and Management Systems. https://ec.europa.eu/info/business-economy-euro/doing-business-eu/corporate-sustainability-due-diligence_en#documents.

65 European Commission, Proposal for a Directive on Corporate Sustainability Due Diligence, pp. 1–3.

66 Directive as regards Disclosure of Non-Financial and Diversity Information by Certain Large Undertakings and Groups, Directive 2014/95/EU (2014).

67 Corporate Sustainability Reporting Directive (European Parliament version of 10 November 2022). www.europarl.europa.eu/doceo/document/TA-9-2022-0380_EN.html.

68 The Taxonomy is structured around three main elements: (six) environmental objectives, the no harm principle (DNSH), and minimum safeguards (such as with regard to human rights). For businesses that means that ‘[e]conomic activities qualify as environmentally sustainable if they fulfil at least one substantial contribution criterion while at the same time do not violate any DNSH criteria for the other objectives and align with minimum safeguards’. Platform for Sustainable Finance, Social Taxonomy – Draft Report (July 2021).

69 Platform on Sustainable Finance, Final Report on Social Taxonomy, February 2022. The work on this Taxonomy is postponed and attention shifted now to fleshing the minimum safeguards provision in the Taxonomy Regulation (Regulation on the establishment of a framework to facilitate sustainable investment, Regulation (EU) 2020/852 article 18). Platform for Sustainable Finance, Draft Report on Minimum Safeguards, July 2022.

70 European Commission, Proposal for a Directive on Corporate Sustainability Due Diligence (2022), pp. 3–9 (on ‘Consistency with existing policy provisions in the policy area’).

71 The Taxonomy cross-references the NFRD so companies issuing reports under the latter now must add information based on the Taxonomy (article 8).

72 Directors have a duty of care, that is, a ‘duty to act in the best interest of the company [and] take into account the human rights, climate and environmental consequences, including in the long term, of their decisions’. See European Commission, Proposal for a Directive on Corporate Sustainability Due Diligence (2022), article 25.

73 The Public Procurement Directives (2014) has since been followed up by supporting documents such as ‘Making Public Procurement Work in Europe’ (2017) providing some sustainability criteria; ‘Buying for Social Impact – Good Practice in EU’ (2019); ‘Making SRPP Work – 71 Good Cases’ (2020); and ‘Guidance Notices on SRPP’ (2021).

74 Reporting obligations vary with the three categories of financial products (specified in articles 6, 8, and 9). See also I. Bengo, L. Boni, A. Sancino, EU financial regulations and social impact measurement practices: a comprehensive framework on finance for sustainable development. Corporate Social Responsibility and Environmental Management 2022, 29(4): 809819.

75 Financial actors are insurance undertakings, credit institutions and investment firms (art 3.a.iv). A scaled-down due diligence obligation for such actors exists under articles 6.3 and 7.6.

76 Principles for Responsible Investment, PRI Statement: European Commission Proposal on Corporate Sustainability Due Diligence (2 March 2022).

77 In response to such deficiencies, the EU is developing public standards for sustainability reporting under the Corporate Sustainability Reporting Directive and the process is run by European Financial Reporting Advisory Group (EFRAG). See EFRAG Approves European Sustainability Reporting Standards. ESG Today (16 November 2022).

78 Porter and colleagues explore the deficiencies of ESG metrics, societal confidence in capitalism, ability of capitalism to deliver on major societal needs at scale, and corrections in investor speculation. M. E. Porter, M. Kramer, G. Serafeim, Where ESG fails. Institutional Investor (16 October 2019).

79 J. Ruggie, E. Middleton, Money, millennials and human rights: sustaining ‘sustainable investing’. Global Policy 2019, 10(1): 144150.

80 The UN Principles for Responsible Investment were launched in 2006 and development banks (such as the World Bank Group) have had sustainability safeguards and conditionalities in place since 1990s.

81 European Commission, Proposal for a Directive on Corporate Sustainability Due Diligence (2022) article 24.

82 Footnote Ibid. at pp. 7–8.

83 The EU also has created other transparency and due diligence obligations under ‘vertical’ regulations. These are limited to specific issues (taxes) and industries (conflict minerals or fisheries) as opposed to the ‘horizontal’ approach of CSDDD. For the latter, the EU chose ‘a horizontal approach to due diligence over a sector-specific or thematic approach’. Footnote Ibid, p. 16.

84 Regulation 978/2012 (25 October 2012) (Generalised Tariff Preferences scheme).

85 The ‘Post Cotonou’ Agreement ‘sets the framework for political, economic and sectoral cooperation for the next twenty years’ and covers over 100 countries (Partnership Agreement Between the European Union and Members of the Organisation of African, Caribbean and Pacific States, 2021). See CONCORD, Insider’s Guide to the Post-Cotonou Agreement (2021). https://concordeurope.org/2021/07/02/insiders-guide-to-the-post-cotonou-agreement.

86 European Council, Resolution on Human Rights, Democracy and Development (28 November 1991).

87 J. B. Velut, D. B. Breinbauer, M. de Bruijne, et al., Comparative analysis of trade and sustainable development provisions in free trade agreements. LSE (February 2022).

88 A. Nissen, Not that assertive: the EU’s take on enforcement of labour obligations in its free trade agreement with South Korea. European Journal of International Law 2022, 33(2): 607630, at p. 609 (noting two complementary provisions in FTAs: the older, general exceptions clauses grounded and human rights, and the more recent TSD chapters).

89 LSE, Comparative Analysis of TSD Provisions In FTAs. EU study (2022), pp. 2734. https://trade.ec.europa.eu/doclib/docs/2022/february/tradoc_160043.pdf.

90 Trade Policy Review – An Open, Sustainable and Assertive Trade Policy, COM(2021) 66 (2021).

91 This is a legal obligation under the Treaty on European Union (2007), articles 21 and 207.

92 The EU’s 15-point Action Plan on the Effective Implementation and Enforcement of Trade and Sustainable Development Chapters in EU Free Trade Agreements (2018). https://trade.ec.europa.eu/doclib/docs/2018/february/tradoc_156618.pdf.

93 Footnote Ibid. (measures such as ‘carbon border adjustment mechanism’ to deal with the issue of ‘carbon leakage’ in global supply chains).

94 European Commission, Proposal for a Regulation on Prohibiting Products Made with Forced Labour on the Union Market, COM(2022) 453 (14 September 2022).

95 European Commission, The Power of Trade Partnerships: Together for Green and Just Economic Growth COM(2022) 409 final (22 June 2022).

96 UNCITRAL, Investor–State Dispute Settlement Reform.

97 International Trade Center, Making Mandatory Human Rights and Environmental Due Diligence Work for All – Guidance on Designing Effective and Inclusive Accompanying Support to Due Diligence Legislation, European Union (2022).

98 Trade Policy Review, The EU’s 15-point Action Plan on the Effective Implementation and Enforcement of Trade and Sustainable Development Chapters in EU Free Trade Agreements (2018); Trade for All: Towards a More Responsible Trade and Investment Policy, COM(2015) 497 (2015).

99 B. Hoekman, Realizing European soft power in external cooperation and trade. Final project report (2021), pp. 9–12. https://respect.eui.eu/working-papers-and-reports-by-topic (the EU-funded RESPECT project examined the linking of trade and non-trade objectives in FTAs and argued in favour of a case-by-case approach).

100 European Commission, Communication on Decent Work Worldwide for a Global Just Transition and a Sustainable Recovery, COM(2022) 66 final (23.2.2022), pp. 9–22.

101 R. Mares, Legalizing human rights due diligence and the separation of entities principle, in S. Deva, D. Bilchitz (eds.), Building a Treaty on Business and Human Rights: Context and Contours (Cambridge University Press, 2017), p. 266, explaining two competing modalities of mandating due diligence, and thus allocating liability for harm to parent companies – the top of the supply chain – or not.

102 UN Office High Commission for Human Rights, Feedback on the Proposal for a Directive of the European Parliament and of the Council on Corporate Sustainability Due Diligence (23 May 2022). www.ohchr.org/sites/default/files/2022–05/eu-csddd-feedback-ohchr.pdf.

103 European Commission, The power of trade partnerships: Together for green and just economic growth. COM(2022) 409 final (22 June 2022).

104 See E. Morena, D. Krause, D. Stevis (eds), Just Transitions, Social Justice in the Shift Towards a Low-Carbon World (Pluto Press, 2020).

105 UN General Assembly, The Human Right to a Clean, Healthy and Sustainable Environment, Resolution A/76/L.75 (26 July 2022).

106 Mares, Draft UN Treaty on Business and Human Rights.

107 See for example Human Rights Council, The Contribution of Development to the Enjoyment of All Human Rights. A/HRC/RES/41/19 (17 July 2019); Human Rights Council, Promoting Mutually Beneficial Cooperation in the Field of Human Rights, A/HRC/6/L.32 (16 March 2021). See also M. Oud, K. Drinhausen (eds.), The Decoding China Dictionary (2021). https://decodingchina.eu/download/decoding-china.

108 J. A. Scholte, Multistakeholderism filling the global governance gap? Research overview (Global Challenges Foundation, 2020). https://globalchallenges.org/wp-content/uploads/Research-review-global-multistakeholderism-scholte-2020.04.06.pdf.

109 L. Backer, Considering a treaty on corporations and human rights: mostly failures but with a glimmer of success, in J. Černič, N. Santarelli (eds.), The Future of Business and Human Rights: Theoretical and Practical Considerations for a UN Treaty (Intersentia Press, 2018), p. 89.

110 Mares, Legalizing human rights due diligence.

111 Human Rights Council, The Right to Development, A/HRC/39/L.12 (2018); Human Rights Council, The Right to Development, A/HRC/42/L.36 (2019). These resolutions together task the intergovernmental open-ended Working Group on the Right to Development, established in 1998, to draft a legally binding instrument.

112 R. G. Teshome, The Draft Convention on the Right to Development: a new dawn to the recognition of the right to development as a human right? Human Rights Law Review 2022, 22(2): 124.

113 OECD, Draft Recommendation on the Role of Government in Promoting Responsible Business Conduct (2022). https://mneguidelines.oecd.org/public-consultation-draft-oecd-recommendation-on-the-role-of-government-in-promoting-responsible-business-conduct.htm.

114 A. Bradford, The Brussels Effect: How the European Union Rules the World (Oxford University Press, 2020).

115 European Commission, Proposal for a Directive on Corporate Sustainability Due Diligence (2022), pp. 1011.

116 E. Aristova, C. O’Regan (eds.), Civil Liability for Human Rights Violations: A Handbook for Practitioners (Bonavero Institute for Human Rights, 2022), containing 19 country reports.

117 Letter from Twenty-Six Companies and Business Associations, Support for EU Framework on Mandatory Human Rights and Environmental Due Diligence (2 September 2020) (welcoming the European Commission to ‘swiftly introduce an ambitious legislative proposal in 2021). https://media.business-humanrights.org/media/documents/EU_Business_Statement_Mandatory_Due_Diligence_02092020.pdf.

118 For example, the CSDDD provisions on corporate governance and the underlying concern about short-termism in EU markets have been rejected by many businesses. See R. Mares, Directors’ duties during the green transition: reasons for reform and the regulatory ecosystem approach in the EU. Nordic Journal of European Law (forthcoming 2023).

119 EU–China – A strategic outlook. JOIN(2019), 5 final (2019).

120 Such ability to set standards and be a rule-maker rather than a rule-taker is widely recognized as a source of competitive advantage. See Trade Policy Review – An Open, Sustainable and Assertive Trade Policy, COM(2021) 66 (2021) (the ability to influence the development of regulations and standards of global significance is an important competitive advantage).

121 T. Ginsburg, How authoritarians use international law. Journal of Democracy 2020, 31(4): 4458.

123 D. French, L. J. Kotzé (eds.), Research Handbook on Law, Governance and Planetary Boundaries (Edward Elgar, 2021).

124 R. Mares, Global corporate social responsibility, human rights, and the law: an interactive regulatory perspective on the voluntary–mandatory dichotomy. Transnational Legal Theory 2010, 1(2): 221285.

125 Porter et al., Where ESG fails; J. Wouters, A. Marx, D. Geraets, B. Natens (eds.), Global Governance through Trade – EU Policies and Approaches (Edward Elgar, 2015).

16 Extending Ecolabelling in Response to Climate Change

1 Paris Agreement, opened for signature 22 April 2016, entered into force 4 November 2016.

2 United Nations Framework Convention on Climate Change, opened for signature 17 December 1994, entered into force 16 April 1998.

3 Also known also as the ‘Rio Conference’ or the ‘Earth Summit’.

4 See United Nations, The Sustainable Development Agenda (2023). www.un.org/sustainabledevelopment/development-agenda.

5 UNFCCC, Governments Step up Action on Agriculture and Food Security at COP27 (2022). https://unfccc.int/news/governments-step-up-action-on-agriculture-and-food-security-at-cop27.

6 I. R. Lake, A. Abdelhamid, L. Hooper, Food and climate change: a review of the effects of climate change on food within the remit of the Food Standards Agency (Food Standards Agency, 2010). www.food.gov.uk/sites/default/files/media/document/575-1-1008_X02001__Climate_Change_and_Food_Report__28_Sept_2010.pdf.

7 Food and Agriculture Organisation (FAO), Sustainable Food Systems: Concept and Framework (2021) p. 1. www.fao.org/3/ca2079en/CA2079EN.pdf. See also FAO, Climate Change and Food Security: Risk and Responses (2015). www.fao.org/3/i5188e/I5188E.pdf.

8 The Sharm El-Sheikh Climate Implementation Summit, Round Table on ‘Food Security’ (7 November 2022), p. 1. https://cop27.eg/assets/files/days/COP27%20FOOD%20SECURITY-DOC-01-EGY-10–22-EN.pdf.

9 FAO, Transforming Food and Agriculture to Achieve the SDGs (2018), p. 49. www.fao.org/3/I9900EN/i9900en.pdf.

11 See W. Willett, J. Rockström, B. Loken, et al., Food in the Anthropocene: the EAT–Lancet Commission on healthy diets from sustainable food systems The Lancet 2019, 393(10170): 447–492.

12 Footnote Ibid. at p. 448 (emphasis added). For a critique, see F. J. Zagmutt, J. G. Pouzoo, S. Costard, The EAT–Lancet Commission: a flawed approach? The Lancet 2019, 394(10204): 1140–1141; and the reply of the EAT–Lancet Commission: W. Willett, J. Rockström, B. Loken, The EAT–Lancet Commission: a flawed approach? – Authors’ reply. The Lancet 2019, 394(10204): 1141–1142.

13 The Sharm El-Sheikh Climate Implementation Summit, Round Table on ‘Food Security’ (7 November 2022), p. 3.

15 IPCC, Food security, in Climate Change and Land (Cambridge University Press, 2022), pp. 437–450. https://doi.org/10.1017/9781009157988.007.

16 IFPRI, Global Food Policy Report 2022: Accelerating Food Systems Transformation to Combat Climate Change. 2022, p. 6. https://ebrary.ifpri.org/utils/getfile/collection/p15738coll2/id/135889/filename/136101.pdf. See further Center on Global Energy Policy (School of International and Public Affairs, Columbia University), Food and Climate – Infoguide, 2021. www.energypolicy.columbia.edu/sites/default/files/file-uploads/FoodandClimate-Infoguide-CGEP-MASTER-v2A.pdf.

17 The aspirational goal of FAST is ‘to implement concrete actions that would result in improving the quantity and quality of climate finance contributions to transform agriculture and food systems by 2030, to support adaptation and maintain a one and a half degree pathway whilst supporting food and economic security’ (FAO, Food and Agriculture for Sustainable Transformation Initiative – FAST. 2022, p. 1. www.fao.org/3/cc2186en/cc2186en.pdf).

18 One of the objectives of I-CAN is ‘to champion the need to connect actions to accelerate progress in both climate (mitigation and adaptation) and nutrition’; see: World Health Organization, Initiative on Climate Action and Nutrition (I-CAN). 2022, p. 1. www.gainhealth.org/sites/default/files/publications/documents/Initiative-on-climate-action-and-nutrition-I-CAN.pdf.

19 See K. F. Davis, C. Dalin, M. Kummu, et al., Beyond the green revolution: a roadmap for sustainable food systems research and action. Environmental Research Letters 2022, 17: 100401.

21 M. Li, C. A. Petersen, N. E. Tautges, Scow K. M., A. C. M. Gaudin, Yields and resilience outcomes of organic, cover crop, and conventional practices in a Mediterranean climate. Scientific Reports 2019, 9: 912283. https://doi.org/10.1038/s41598-019-48747-4.

22 Compare to FAO, Climate Change and Food Security: Risk and Responses, 2015, fn. 95.

23 Global Ecolabelling Network (GEN), Ecolabels and Their Role in Mitigating Climate Change (October 2022). www.oneplanetnetwork.org/sites/default/files/from-crm/GEN_white_paper_Oct_2022%2520final%2520version%2520for%2520release%2520%25281%2529.pdf.

24 ISO 14020:2000 Environmental Labels and Declarations – General Principles. www.iso.org/obp/ui#iso:std:iso:14020:ed-2:v1:en.

25 ISO 14024:2018 Environmental Labels and Declarations – Type I Environmental Labelling – Principles and Procedures. www.iso.org/obp/ui/#iso:std:iso:14024:ed-2:v1:en.

26 See ISO 14021:2016 Environmental Labels and Declarations – Self-Declared Environmental Claims (Type II Environmental Labeling). www.iso.org/obp/ui/#iso:std:iso:14021:ed-2:v1:en.

27 ISO 14025:2006 Environmental Labels and Declarations – Type III Environmental Declarations – Principles and Procedures. www.iso.org/obp/ui/#iso:std:iso:14025:ed-1:v1:en.

28 These are self-declared environmental claims and environmental labels and declarations (EPDs). The latter are based on life-cycle analysis (LCA) conducted according to rules and requirements defined in Product Category Rules (PCRs). See UNI EN ISO 14040:2006; UNI EN ISO 14044:2006; ISO/TS 14072:2014 Environmental Management – Life Cycle Assessment – Requirements and Guidelines for Organizational Life Cycle Assessment.

29 Council Resolution of 7 May 1990 on Waste Policy, OJ L 90 No. C 122/2 (18 May 1990).

30 Article 2: ‘This Regulation shall not apply to food, drink or pharmaceuticals’. See Council Regulation (EEC) No. 880/92 of 23 March 1992 on a Community eco-label award scheme, OJ L 99 (11 April 1992).

31 Regulation (EC) No. 1980/2000 of the European Parliament and of the Council of 17 July 2000 on a Revised Community Eco-label Award Scheme, OJ L 237 (21 September 2000).

32 Article 5(1) of Regulation (EC) No. 66/2010 of the European Parliament and of the Council of 25 November 2009 on the EU Ecolabel, OJ L 27 (30 January 2010).

33 Footnote Ibid., section 19.

34 Footnote Ibid., article 2(2).

35 Footnote Ibid., article 1.

36 Footnote Ibid., article 5(1). The EUEB was approved via Commission Decision 2000/730/EC of 10 November 2000, Establishing the European Union Eco-labelling Board and its Rules of Procedure (notified under document C(2000) 3280), OJ L 293 (22 November 2000).

37 See article 14(3)(b) of Regulation (EC) No. 178/2002 of the European Parliament and of the Council of 28 January 2002, Laying Down the General Principles and Requirements of Food Law, Establishing the European Food Safety Authority and Laying Down Procedures in Matters of Food Safety. OJ L 31 (1 February 2002).

38 Footnote Ibid., article 16.

39 According to article 6(5) of Regulation (EC) No. 66/2010 of the European Parliament and of the Council of 25 November 2009 on the EU Ecolabel, OJ L 27 (30 January 2010).

40 H. Sengstschmid, N. Sprong, O. Schmid, et al., EU Ecolabel for Food and Feed Products – Feasibility Study (European Commission, 20 October 2011). https://ec.europa.eu/environment/ecolabel/documents/Ecolabel_for_food_final_report.pdf.

41 European Union Ecolabelling Board, Opinion on the Development of EU Ecolabel for Food and Feed Products (EUEB, 2011). https://ec.europa.eu/environment/ecolabel/documents/EUEB_position_on_food_final.pdf.

42 This is one of eight coalitions to step up support for global action to transform food systems. See European Commission, Food security: Commission steps up support for global action to transform food systems via eight Global Coalitions. Press release (23 March 2022). https://ec.europa.eu/commission/presscorner/detail/en/ip_22_1971.

43 Communication from the Commission to the European Parliament and the Council, New Consumer Agenda Strengthening Consumer Resilience for Sustainable Recovery, COM (2020) 696 final (13 November 2020).

44 See, for example, Regulation (EU) 2017/1369 of the European Parliament and of the Council of 4 July 2017 Setting a Framework for Energy Labelling and Repealing Directive 2010/30/EU, OJ L 198 (28 July 2017). For covered products and energy labelling, see European Commission, Energy Efficient Products (2022). https://commission.europa.eu/energy-climate-change-environment/standards-tools-and-labels/products-labelling-rules-and-requirements/energy-label-and-ecodesign/energy-efficient-products_en. Another example is the introduction of EU green public procurement criteria (EU GPP) to facilitate the inclusion of green requirements in public tender documents. See Communication, Public Procurement for a Better Environment (COM (2008) 400). https://ec.europa.eu/environment/gpp/eu_gpp_criteria_en.htm.

45 Proposal for a Regulation of the European Parliament and of the Council Establishing a Framework for Setting Ecodesign Requirements for Sustainable Products and Repealing Directive 2009/125/EC, COM(2022) 142 final 2022/0095 (COD) (30 March 2022).

46 Footnote Ibid., article 1(1).

47 Footnote Ibid., article 57.

48 Footnote Ibid., article 34.

49 This exclusion is expressly provided for article 1(2)(a) (Footnote ibid.), which will not apply to food as defined in article 2 of Regulation (EC) No. 178/2002. See also European Commission, Communication to the European Parliament, the Council, The European Economic and Social Committee and the Committee of the regions on making sustainable products the norm. COM(2022) 140 final. https://eurlex.europa.eu/legalcontent/EN/TXT/?uri=CELEX%3A52022DC0140&qid=1649112555090.

50 See Proposal for a Regulation of the European Parliament and of the Council on Packaging and Packaging Waste, amending Regulation (EU) 2019/1020 and Directive (EU) 2019/904, and repealing Directive 94/62/EC, COM(2022) 677 final, 2022/0396 (COD) (30 November 2022). https://environment.ec.europa.eu/system/files/2022-11/Proposal%20for%20a%20Regulation%20on%20packaging%20and%20packaging%20waste.pdf. See also para. 1.5.1 and arts. 11, 12, 13, 56.1.c of the Proposal for a Regulation on Packaging and Packaging Waste.

51 Commission Recommendation (EU) 2021/2279 of 15 December 2021 on the Use of the Environmental Footprint Methods to Measure and Communicate the Life Cycle Environmental Performance of Products and Organizations, OJ L 471 (30 December 2021).

52 European Commission, Product Environmental Footprint Pilot Guidance: Guidance for the Implementation of the EU Product Environmental Footprint (PEF) during the Environmental Footprint (EF) pilot phase, version 5.2 (European Commission, February 2016). https://ec.europa.eu/environment/eussd/smgp/pdf/Guidance_products.pdf.

53 See, for example, European Commission, Product Environmental Footprint Category 2 Rules Guidance 3, version 6.3 (European Commission, May 2018). https://ec.europa.eu/environment/eussd/smgp/pdf/PEFCR_guidance_v6.3.pdf.

55 Compare with articles 9, 30, 34, and 35 of annex I, Regulation (EU) No. 1169/2011 of the European Parliament and of the Council of 25 October 2011 on the Provision of Food Information to Consumers, Amending Regulations (EC) No. 1924/2006 and (EC) No. 1925/2006 of the European Parliament and of the Council, OJ L 304 (22 November 2011).

56 Its relevance was such that since 2021 it has also been included as a neologism in the Cambridge Dictionary, as ‘ranking the environmental impact of each item and allowing customers to easily assess whether they are buying goods that have a low-carbon footprint from suppliers focused on sustainability’. See Cambridge Dictionary, https://dictionaryblog.cambridge-org.demo.remotlog.com/2021/08/16/new-words-16-august-2021.

57 S. Itab, Futur Etiquetage Environnemental: le Planet-score prochainement affiché sur les produits alimentaires grâce au soutien de la société civile et à la mobilisation d’entreprises désireuses d’accélérer la transition écologique (Very Good Future, 2021), p. 4. http://itab.asso.fr/downloads/affichage-environnemental/itab_sayari_vgf_-_communique_planet-score_-_20211028_vz.pdf.

58 See L. Brimont, M. Saujot, Affichage environnemental alimentaire: révéler les visions pour construire un compromise politique (Iddri, October 2021), p. 92. www.iddri.org/sites/default/files/PDF/Publications/Catalogue%20Iddri/Etude/202110-ST0821-AE_1.pdf.

59 Loi de programmation relative à la mise en œuvre du Grenelle de l’environnement, No. 2009-967, 3 August 2009 (J.O. 5 of August 2009).

60 Loi portant engagement national pour l’environnement, No. 2010-788, 12 July 2010 (J.O. of 13 July 2010).

61 Loi de la transition énergétique pour une croissance verte, No. 2015-992 of 17 August 2015 (J.O. del 18 agosto 2015).

62 Loi relative à la lutte contre le gaspillage et à l’économie circulaire, No. 2020-105 of 10 February 2020 (J.O. of 11 February 2020).

63 Loi portant lutte contre le dérèglement climatique et renforcement de la résilience face à ses effets, No. 2021-1104 of 22 August 2021 (J.O. of 24 August 2021).

64 Indeed, in 1987, the European Economic Community (as it was then) proposed a European label for clean products, which in 1992 resulted in the Community Label award scheme via Resolution of the European Parliament on Waste Disposal Industry and Old Waste Dumps of 19 June 1987, OJ No. C 190 (20 July 1987).

17 The Role of Judges in Implementing Climate Policies A Comparative Perspective on the Separation of Powers

1 OHCHR, Safe Climate: Report of the Special Rapporteur on Human Rights and the Environment (UN Doc. A/74/161), 2019. www.ohchr.org/Documents/Issues/Environment/SREnvironment/Report.pdf.

2 IPCC, Global Warming of 1.5°C. An IPCC Special Report on the Impacts of Global Warming of 1.5°C above Pre-Industrial Levels and Related Global Greenhouse Gas Emission Pathways, in the Context of Strengthening the Global Response to the Threat of Climate Change, Sustainable Development, and Efforts to Eradicate Poverty (IPCC, 2018). www.ipcc.ch/site/assets/uploads/sites/2/2019/06/SR15_Full_Report_High_Res.pdf.

3 IPCC, Summary for Policymakers in Climate Change 2022: Mitigation of Climate Change. Contribution of Working Group III to the Sixth Assessment Report of the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC, 2022). https://report.ipcc.ch/ar6wg3/pdf/IPCC_AR6_WGIII_SummaryForPolicymakers.pdf.

4 J. Setzer, C. Higham, Global Trends in Climate Change Litigation: 2022 Snapshot (Policy report, LSE, Grantham Research Institute on Climate Change and the Environment, 2022). www.lse.ac.uk/granthaminstitute/wp-content/uploads/2022/08/Global-trends-in-climate-change-litigation-2022-snapshot.pdf.

5 Climate Change Litigation: Insights into the Evolving Global Landscape (The Geneva Association, 2021). www.genevaassociation.org/sites/default/files/research-topics-document-type/pdf_public/climate_litigation_04-07-2021.pdf.

6 See ‘Climate Change Litigation Databases’, Sabin Center for Climate Change Law, http://climatecasechart.com; ‘Climate Change Laws of the World’, LSE Grantham Research Institute on Climate Change and the Environment, https://climate-laws.org.

7 R. Lazarus, Super wicked problems and climate change: restraining the present to liberate the future. Cornell Law Review 2009, 94: 11531234.

8 UNEP, Global Climate Litigation Report: 2020 Status Review (UNEP, 2020), pp. 610.

9 I. Alogna, E. Clifford, Climate Change Litigation: Comparative and International Perspectives (British Institute of International and Comparative Law, 2020), pp. 23.

10 J. Setzer, R. Byrnes, Global Trends in Climate Change Litigation: 2020 Snapshot (Grantham Research Institute on Climate Change and the Environment and Centre for Climate Change Economics and Policy, London School of Economics and Political Science, 2020), p. 4.

11 Ideas of mixed government utilise the ‘conventional distinction between rule by the one, the few and many, placing particular weight on the risk attendant on any of these pure forms of government’ and add, with ideas of balanced government, ‘various elements [to] check the use of power by the others in order to produce a balance between the elements charged with performing different functions’ (see J. Morrow, Mixed government, balanced constitutions and the separation of powers, in History of Political Thought (Palgrave, 1998), pp. 227248).

12 M. J. C. Vile, Constitutionalism and the Separation of Powers, 2nd ed (Liberty Fund, 2012), p. 3.

13 Footnote Ibid. at pp. 2–22.

14 The concept of checks and balances incorporates a set of positive checks to the exercise of power, meaning that each branch of the government is ‘given the power to exercise a degree of direct control over the others by authorizing it to play a part, although only a limited part, in the exercise of the other’s functions … The important point is that this power to “interfere” is only a limited one, so that the basic idea of division of functions remains, modified by the view that each of the branches could exercise some authority in the field of all three functions’ (Footnote ibid., pp. 19–20).

15 Footnote Ibid. at p. 2.

16 C. Möllers, The Three Branches: A Comparative Model of Separation of Powers (Oxford University Press, 2013), p. 44.

17 UNEP, Global Climate Litigation Report: 2020 Status Review (UNEP, 2020), p. 40.

19 A. James, Majoritarianism. Bond Law Review 2017, 29(2): 187196.

20 H. Colby, A. S. Ebbersmeyer, L. M. Helm, M. K. Røssaak, Judging climate change: the role of the judiciary in the fight against climate change. Oslo Law Review 2020, 7(3): 168185, at p. 170.

21 Footnote Ibid. at p. 181.

22 See the text of the Resolution adopted by the General Assembly on 28 July 2022, UN Doc. A/RES/76/300. https://documents-dds-ny.un.org/doc/UNDOC/GEN/N22/442/77/PDF/N2244277.pdf?OpenElement; see also A. Savaresi, The UN HRC recognizes the right to a healthy environment and appoints a new Special Rapporteur on Human Rights and Climate Change. What does it all mean? EJIL:Talk! (12 October 2021). www.ejiltalk.org/the-un-hrc-recognizes-the-right-to-a-healthy-environment-and-appoints-a-new-special-rapporteur-on-human-rights-and-climate-change-what-does-it-all-mean/.

23 Brown v. Board of Education (1954) 347 US 483 at 495.

24 Hungarian Constitutional Court, Decision 23/1990 of 31 October 1990.

25 Colby et al., Judging climate change, p. 181.

27 See discussions from different sessions captured in the event report published by the British Institute of International and Comparative Law, Our Future in the Balance. The Role of Courts and Tribunals in Meeting the Climate Crisis (August 2021).

28 Footnote Ibid. at pp. 168–185.

29 Note that a Chamber for Environmental Matters existed at the International Court of Justice (ICJ) between 1993 and 2006. However, no State ever requested that a case be dealt with by the Chamber, which is why the ICJ decided in 2006 not to hold elections for a Bench of the Chamber (www.icj-cij.org/en/chambers-and-committees).

30 Colby et al., Judging climate change, p. 181; D. G. Gifford, Climate change and the public law model of torts: reinvigorating judicial restraint doctrines. South Carolina Law Review, 2010, 62: 202259.

31 Colby et al., Judging climate change, p. 181; Mistretta v. United States (1989) 488 US 361.

32 P. Goldberg, Climate change lawsuits are ineffective political stunts. The Hill, 2018. https://thehill.com/opinion/energy-environment/376307-climate-change-lawsuits-are-showy-ineffective-political-stunts.

33 Colby et al., Judging climate change, p. 181; American Electric Power Co v. Connecticut (2011) 564 US 410.

35 L. Bergkamp, K. M. Brouwer, The human right to a safe climate – putting democracy under judicial guardianship. RealClear Energy, 2021. www.realclearenergy.org/articles/2021/06/21/the_human_right_to_a_safe_climate__putting_democracy_under_judicial_guardianship_782320.html.

36 Goldberg, Climate change lawsuits.

37 The State of The Netherlands (Ministry of Economic Affairs and Climate Policy) v. Stichting Urgenda, Supreme Court of The Netherlands, Case 19/00135, Cassation Judgment of 20 December 2019.

38 K. J. de Graaf, J. H. Jans, The Urgenda decision: Netherlands liable for role in causing dangerous global climate change. Journal of Environmental Law 2015, 27(3): 517527.

39 Neubauer et al. v. Germany 1 BvR 2656/18, 1 BvR 78/20, 1 BvR 96/20, 1 BvR 288/20 (24 March 2021).

40 V. Boehme-Neßler, Grenzüberschreitung: Das Bundesverfassungsgericht mach Klimapolitik. Cash.online (2021). www.cash-online.de/recht-steuern/2021/grenzueberschreitung-das-bundesverfassungsgericht-macht-klimapolitik/565281.

41 L. Burgers, Should judges make climate change law? Transnational Environmental Law 2020, 9: 5575.

43 R. H. Weaver, D. A. Kysar, Courting disaster: climate change and the adjudication of catastrophe. Notre Dame Law Review 2017, 93(1): 295.

44 S. Novak, The role of courts in remedying climate chaos: transcending judicial nihilism and taking survival seriously. Georgetown Environmental Law Review 2020, 32(4): 743.

45 Hon. T. M. Coffin, American courts in climate emergency (IUCN, 2019). www.iucn.org/sites/default/files/content/documents/2019/american_courts_in_climate_emergency.pdf.

48 C. Eckes, Separation of powers in climate cases. Comparing cases in Germany and the Netherlands. Verfassungsblog (2022). https://verfassungsblog.de/separation-of-powers-in-climate-cases/.

49 C. Eckes, The Urgenda case is separation of powers at work. Amsterdam Law School Legal Studies Research Paper (No. 2021–39, 2021).

52 Colby et al., Judging climate change, p. 170.

53 Ashgar Leghari v. Federation of Pakistan (2015) Lahore High Court W.P. No. 25501/2015.

54 Considering a State’s environmental history is important because it influences where they stand on the issue of climate change, and the level of policy action that they are willing to commit to on a domestic and international level. Cf. J. van Zeben, Establishing a governmental duty of care for climate change mitigation: will Urgenda turn the tide? Transnational Environmental Law 2015, 4(2): 339357, at pp. 339–340.

55 Footnote Ibid. at p. 340.

56 Footnote Ibid. at p. 343.

57 Cf. S. Roy, E. Woerdman, Situating Urgenda v. the Netherlands within comparative climate change litigation. Journal of Energy & Natural Resources Law 2016, 34(2): 165189, at pp. 165–167.

58 Cf. L. Burgers, Should judges make climate change law? Transnational Environmental Law 2020, 9(1): 5575, at p. 59.

59 J. Spier, The “strongest” climate ruling yet: The Dutch Supreme Court’s Urgenda judgment. Netherlands International Law Review 2020, 67: 319391, at pp. 321–323; cf. M. Meguro, State of the Netherlands v. Urgenda Foundation. The American Journal of International Law 2020, 114(4): 729735, at pp. 729–730.

61 Fifty-four Climate Solutions. Urgenda (blog). www.urgenda.nl/en/themas/climate-case/dutch-implementation-plan/.

63 Climate Action and Low Carbon Development (Amendment) Bill 2021 (Ir.). www.gov.ie/en/publication/984d2-climate-action-and-low-carbon-development-amendment-bill-2020.

64 Climate Change Act – climate neutrality by 2045. Webseite der Bundesregierung. www.bundesregierung.de/breg-de/themen/klimaschutz/climate-change-act-2021-1913970.

65 R (on application of Friends of the Earth) v. Secretary of State for Business Energy and Industrial Strategy [2022] EWHC 1841 (Admin) (18 July 2022).

66 VZW Klimaatzaak v. Kingdom of Belgium and Others (2021) Brussels Court of First Instance 2015/4585/A.

68 UNEP, Global Climate Litigation Report: 2020 Status Review, p. 4. The climate litigation databases provided by the Sabin Center on Climate Change Law identify 1477 climate litigation cases in the United States and 609 in the rest of the world (including cases brought before international or regional courts or tribunals, see www.climatecasechart.com/about).

69 E. Fisher, Climate change litigation, obsession and expertise: reflecting on the scholarly response to Massachusetts v. EPA. Law & Policy 2013, 35(3): 236260, at pp. 245-246.

70 J. Peel, J. Lin, Transnational climate litigation: the contribution of the global south. The American Journal of International Law 2019, 113(4): 679726, at pp. 686–689.

71 Massachusetts v. Environmental Protection Agency (2007) 549 US 497.

72 R. MacNeil, Alternative climate policy pathways in the US. Climate Policy 2013, 13(2): 259276, at pp. 267–270.

73 Notably, the Supreme Court held that the Clean Air Act of 1970 doesn’t give the EPA the authority to set emissions limits for existing power plants in the ‘generation shifting’ process from fossil fuels to renewable energy sources. See West Virginia v. Environmental Protection Agency (2022) 597 US: ‘in certain extraordinary cases, both separation of powers principles and a practical understanding of legislative intent make us “reluctant to read into ambiguous statutory text” the delegation claimed to be lurking there’. Considering two other cases, namely American Electric Power v. Connecticut and Utility Air Regulatory Group v. EPA, the conservative members of the Supreme Court appear to also be embracing another theory: the ‘non-delegation’ doctrine. This means that Congress cannot delegate too much of its discretion to agencies and that it needs to be extremely specific in what it does delegate. If firmly adopted by U.S. Courts, the doctrine could become problematic for the powers of the EPA under current statutory authority, as the Courts have been very active in striking down administrative actions related to the environment that exceed statutory authority.

74 See D. C. Smith, ‘No ordinary lawsuit’: will Juliana v. United States put the judiciary at the centre of US climate change policy? Journal of Energy & Natural Resources Law 2018, 36(3):259264, at p. 260.

75 U.S. District Judge Ann Aiken, Opinion and Order in Case No. 6:15-cv-01517-TC (10 November 2016), pp. 3638, 5152 (https://static1.squarespace.com/static/571d109b04426270152febe0/t/5824e85e6a49638292ddd1c9/1478813795912/Order+MTD.Aiken.pdf).

77 C. N. Kempf, Why did so many do so little? Movement building and climate change litigation in the time of Juliana v. United States. Texas Law Review 2021, 99(5): 1005–1040, pp. 1024–1025. Having moved to the U.S. Court of Appeals for the Ninth Circuit, and according to Judge Hurwitz, the redress that is sought – an order requiring the government to develop a plan to ‘phase out fossil fuel emissions and draw down excess atmospheric CO2’ – is ‘beyond our constitutional power. Rather, the plaintiffs’ impressive case for redress must be presented to the political branches of government’. However, in the oral argument about the claimants’ motion to amend complaint, which was held on 25 June 2021, Judge Aiken was clearly sympathetic to the motion to amend complaint to seek declaratory but not injunctive relief regarding children’s rights and climate change. See U.S. Court of Appeals for the Ninth Circuit Judge Andrew D. Hurwitz, Opinion in Case D.C. No. 6:15-cv-01517-AA (17 January 2020), p. 11. http://climatecasechart.com/wp-content/uploads/sites/16/case-documents/2020/20200117_docket-18-36082_opinion.pdf.

78 Verein KlimaSeniorinnen and Others v. Federal Department of the Environment Transport, Energy and Communications (DETEC) and Others (2020). Federal Supreme Court 1C_37/2019.

79 Federal Supreme Court, Public Law Division I – Judgment 1C_37/2019 of 5 May 2020, Verein KlimaSeniorinnen Schweiz et al. v. DETEC – Ruling on Real Acts relating to Climate Protection Unofficial Translation Prepared on behalf of KlimaSeniorinnen. http://climatecasechart.com/wp-content/uploads/sites/16/non-us-case-documents/2020/20200505_No.-A-29922017_judgment.pdf.

80 ECHR, article 30; European Court of Human Rights, Communiqué de presse (29 April 2022) CEDH 142; E. Schmid, Victim status before the ECtHR in cases of alleged omissions: the Swiss climate case. EJIL:Talk! (2022). www.ejiltalk.org/victim-status-before-the-ecthr-in-cases-of-alleged-omissions-the-swiss-climate-case.

81 Colby et al., Judging climate change, p. 170. Emphasis added.

82 See the event report published by the British Institute of International and Comparative Law, Our Future in the Balance. The Role of Courts and Tribunals in Meeting the Climate Crisis (August 2021). See also the text of the Declaration on Climate Change, Rule of Law and the Courts, presented during the COP26 in Glasgow and signed by over 160 international experts in the field, among legal academics, legal practitioners, NGOs, in-house counsels, scientists and economists, and available on BIICL website: www.biicl.org/climate-change-declaration.

18 Private Climate Litigation Enforcing Corporate Climate Responsibility through Dispute Resolution? A Taxonomy

1 The terms ‘corporation’ and ‘company’ are used interchangeably in this chapter, referring to the dominant form of conducting business in all its variants across jurisdictions.

2 See, for example, R. J. Lazarus, Super wicked problems and climate change: restraining the present to liberate the future. Cornell Law Review 2009, 94: 11531234.

3 R. Heede, Carbon Majors: Accounting for Carbon and Methane Emissions 1854–2010, Methods and Results Report (Climate Accountability, 2014); R. Heede, Tracing anthropogenic carbon dioxide and methane emissions to fossil fuel and cement producers, 1854–2010. Climatic Change 2014, 122: 229241.

4 For instance, in Milieudefensie and Others v. Shell (District Court of the Hague, C/09/571932/HA ZA 19–379, Judgment of 26 May 2021), the District Court of The Hague took note of the fact that the emissions of the Royal Dutch Shell group exceed those of the State of the Netherlands (paragraph 4.4.5). The reader should note that there are many methodological issues around measuring greenhouse gas emissions, which, for reasons of brevity, will not be discussed further in this chapter.

5 IPCC, Global Warming of 1.5°C, Summary for Policymakers, p. 15 (emphasis added).

6 Keeping temperature increase ‘well below’ 2°C, or 1.5°C, respectively, above pre-industrial levels (Paris Agreement article 2(1)(a)).

7 International Energy Agency, Global Energy Review: CO2 Emissions in 2021. Global emissions rebound sharply to highest ever level. 2022). www.iea.org/reports/global-energy-review-co2-emissions-in-2021-2.

8 In 2020, the UN Environment Programme (UNEP) warned that ‘[c]urrent NDCs remain seriously inadequate to achieve the climate goals of the Paris Agreement and would lead to a temperature increase of at least 3°C by the end of the century’ (UNEP Emissions Gap Report 2020 (UNEP, 2020), p. xi). In 2021, the UNFCCC Secretariat reported that taken together, NDCs ‘fall far short of what is required’ to achieve the temperature goal of the Paris Agreement (UNFCCC Secretariat, Nationally Determined Contributions under the Paris Agreement, Synthesis report (FCCC/PA/CMA/2021/2), p. 5).

9 See, for example, M. P. Vandenbergh, Reconceptualizing the future of environmental law: the role of private climate governance. Pace Environmental Law Review 2015, 32: 382; N. Gunningham, Divestment, nonstate governance, and climate change. Law & Policy 2017, 39: 309324.

10 The term ‘non-state actors’ is used in the international law debate to refer to a diverse set of actors ranging from individuals, international organizations, subnational administrations, industry associations, civil-society organizations, indigenous peoples, and corporations – the focus of this chapter (see M. Rajavuori, The role of non-state actors in climate law, in B. Mayer, A. Zahar (eds.), Debating Climate Law (Cambridge University Press, 2021), pp. 379380.

11 See, for example, L. B. Andonova, M. M. Betsill, H. Bulkeley, Transnational climate governance. Global Environmental Politics 2009, 9(2): 5273.

12 See generally E. Morgera, Corporate Environmental Accountability in International Law, 2nd ed. (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2021), pp. 60–67. Specifically, on potential climate obligations of corporations, see Expert Group on Global Climate Obligations, Principles on Climate Obligations of Enterprises (Eleven International Publishing, 2018).

13 See Morgera, Corporate Environmental Accountability, pp. 69–139.

14 See, for example, M. Rajavuori, The role of non-state actors in climate law, p. 380 (noting that ‘[t]he conceptual rift between state and non-state actors has been engrained in the international climate regime since its inception’).

15 See, for example, R. J. Brulle, The climate lobby: a sectoral analysis of lobbying spending on climate change in the USA, 2000 to 2016. Climatic Change 2018, 149: 289–303; InfluenceMap, Big Oil’s Real Agenda on Climate Change – How the Oil Majors Have Spent $1bn since Paris on Narrative Capture and Lobbying on Climate. (2019). https://perma.cc/BG6R-RWT9; B. Franta, Weaponizing economics: big oil, economic consultants, and climate policy delay. Environmental Politics, 2022, 31(4): 555575.

16 With regard to climate change-related regulatory developments in financial market regulation, see, for example, A. Hösli, R. H. Weber, Climate change reporting and due diligence: frontiers of corporate climate responsibility. European Company and Financial Law Review 2021, 18(6): 948979.

17 In 2013, only 7.1% of oil reserves and 6.6% of natural gas reserves were held by investor-owned enterprises (see R. Heede, N. Oreskes, Potential emissions of CO2 and methane from proved reserves of fossil fuels: an alternative analysis. Global Environmental Change 2016, 36: 1220, at p. 19).

18 But see, for example, B. Mayer, M. Rajavuori, National fossil fuel companies and climate change mitigation under international law. Syracuse Journal of International Law and Commerce 2016, 44: 55 (focusing on the role of States or investors rather than policy-setters and enforcers).

19 For instance, one may ask whether the conduct of state-controlled or ‘State-owned’ enterprises is attributable to the respective State. One could also ask whether the directors of these companies owe their duties not (only) to the company they oversee (as is the case under corporate law), but also to the ‘ultimate beneficiaries’ of State-controlled enterprises, that is, arguably, the citizens of that State (at least nominally).

20 See R. H. Weber, A. Hösli, Corporate climate responsibility – the rise of a new governance issue. Sui Generis 2021, 83–92 at p. 84 (using the term Corporate Climate Responsibility as ‘a means to capture and contextualize various climate change-related trends in the legal sphere as well as changing market practices). See also C. A. Williams, Fiduciary duties and corporate climate responsibility. Vanderbilt Law Review 2021, 74(6): 18751916 (without explaining the term ‘Corporate Climate Responsibility’).

21 K. Bouwer, The unsexy future of climate change litigation. Journal of Environmental Law 2018, 30: 483506: ‘[w]ith the exception of … very high-profile actions … the potential of private law is largely overlooked when it comes to climate cases’.

22 J. Peel, H. M. Osofsky, Climate Change Litigation: Regulatory Pathways to Cleaner Energy (Cambridge University Press, 2015), p. 4.

23 It is not possible to cite even a representative selection of the large amount of literature and reports in one footnote, but see the various sources cited in this chapter (and also Chapter 17 by I. Alogna, N. Arnould and A. Holzhausen in this volume). Among the earliest scholarly contributions, see, for example, D. Grossman, Warming up to a not-so-radical idea: tort-based climate change litigation. Columbia Journal of Environmental Law 2003, 28: 933; H. M. Osofsky, The geography of climate change litigation: implications for transnational regulatory governance. Washington University Law Quarterly 2005, 83: 17891855.

24 Setzer and Vanhala note that there are ‘as many understandings of what counts as “climate change litigation” as there are authors writing about the phenomenon’ (J. Setzer, L. C. Vanhala, Climate change litigation: a review of research on courts and litigants in climate governance. Wiley Interdisciplinary Reviews: Climate Change 2019, 10: e580, at p. 4).

25 M. B. Gerrard, Climate change litigation in the United States: high volume of cases, mostly about statutes, in I. Alogna, C. Bakker, J.-P. Gauci, Climate Change Litigation: Global Perspectives (Brill Nijhoff, 2021), p. 33 (this definition thus excludes cases that ‘may have been motivated by climate change but do not explicitly talk about it, such as an effort to stop a coal-fired power plant on non-climate legal grounds’).

26 See, for example, J. Peel, J. Lin, Transnational climate litigation: the contribution of the global south. The American Journal of International Law 2019, 113(4): 679726, at p. 692.

27 See, for example, Peel and Osofsky, Climate Change Litigation, pp. 4–9; J. Peel, H. M. Osofsky, Climate change litigation. Annual Review of Law and Social Sciences 2020, 16: 2138, at pp. 21–38, 23–24; I. Alogna, C. Bakker, J.-P. Gauci, Climate change litigation: global perspectives, in Alogna et al., Climate Change Litigation, pp. 1, 15–18.

28 G. Ganguly, J. Setzer, V. Heyvaert, If at first you don’t succeed: suing corporations for climate change. Oxford Journal of Legal Studies (2018), 38(4): 841848, at p. 843.

29 Footnote Ibid. at p. 844. See also M. K. Nagle, Tracing the origins of fairly traceable: the black hole of private climate change litigation. Tulane Law Review 2010, 85: 477518, at p. 480 (using the term ‘private law climate change litigation’ without offering a definition).

30 In January 2017, German automotive conglomerate Volkswagen Group AG (VW) plead guilty to ‘participating in a conspiracy to defraud the United States and VW’s US customers and to violate the Clean Air Act by lying and misleading the [Environmental Protection Agency] and US customers about whether certain VW, Audi and Porsche branded diesel vehicles complied with US emissions standards, using cheating software to circumvent the US testing process and concealing material facts about its cheating from US regulators’ and to pay a total of US$4.3 billion in criminal and civil penalties. Several executives and high-ranking employees were indicted. See U.S. Department of Justice, ‘Volkswagen AG agrees to plead guilty and pay $4.3 billion in criminal and civil penalties; six Volkswagen executives and employees are indicted in connection with conspiracy to cheat U.S. emissions tests (2017). www.justice.gov/opa/pr/volkswagen-ag-agrees-plead-guilty-and-pay-43-billion-criminal-and-civil-penalties-six. Based on the U.S. proceedings, a large number of criminal investigations and civil proceedings were opened in many jurisdictions.

31 Comer v. Murphy Oil USA, U.S. Court of Appeals for the Fifth Circuit, Inc. 607 F.3d 1049 (2010).

32 Kivalina v. ExxonMobil Corporation et al., U.S. Court of Appeals for the Ninth Circuit, 696 F.3d 849, 2012 WL 4215921 (2012).

33 For a discussion of these cases, see, for example, Ganguly et al., If at first you don’t succeed, pp. 846–849.

34 See Footnote ibid., p. 842 (adding that even ‘unsuccessful’ cases ‘may help to guide climate change responsive adjudication in the longer term). See also Bouwer, The unsexy future of climate change litigation, pp. 490–491.

35 Ganguly et al., If at first you don’t succeed, p. 856.

36 Milieudefensie and others v. Shell, District Court of The Hague, C/09/571932/HA ZA 19–379, Judgment of 26 May 2021, as discussed in A. Hösli, Milieudefensie et al. v. Shell: a tipping point in climate change litigation against corporations? Climate Law 2021, 11: 195–209.

37 See, for example, A. Hösli, R. H. Weber, Klimaklagen gegen Unternehmen. Internationale Entwicklungen und deren Bedeutung für die Schweiz. Jusletter 2021, 1–18, at p. 6.

38 See, for example, J. Solana, Climate breakdown litigation in financial systems: a typology. Transnational Environmental Law 2020, 9(1): 103135, at p. 10; Ganguly et al., If at first you don’t succeed, pp. 858–861 (referring to ‘litigation as a component of corporate climate risk management’); J. Setzer, C. Higham, Global Trends in Climate Change Litigation: 2022 Snapshot (Grantham Research Institute on Climate Change and the Environment and Centre for Climate Change Economics and Policy, London School of Economics and Political Science, 2022), pp. 38–40.

39 L. Benjamin, Companies and Climate Change. Theory and Law in the United Kingdom (Cambridge University Press, 2021), p. 1.

40 On risks to financial stability, see, for example, P. Bolton, M. Després, L. A. P. da Silva, F. Samama, R. Svartzman The Green Swan: Central Banking and Financial Stability in the Age of Climate Change (2020). www.bis.org/publ/othp31.htm. Of course, in the longer run, anthropogenic climate change not only threatens global financial stability, but the very existence of the human (and many other) species.

41 See, for example, S. Barker, E. Mulholland, Directors’ liability and climate risk: comparative paper – Australia, Canada, South Africa, and the United Kingdom (Commonwealth Climate and Law Initiative, 2019); L. Benjamin, The duty of due consideration in the anthropocene: climate risk and English directorial duties. Carbon and Climate Law Review 2017, 11(2): 9099; R. H. Weber, A. Hösli, Climate change liability: comparing risks for directors in jurisdictions of the common and civil law. Climate Law 2021, 10(2): 151196.

42 For an overview, see L. Benjamin, A. Bhargava, B. Franta, et al., Climate-washing litigation: legal liability for misleading climate communications (The Climate Social Science Network, 2022). For instance, in 2019, the Italian Competition Authority imposed a fine of five million euro on Italian oil and gas company Eni for unfair commercial practices concerning environmental claims about Eni’s Diesel+ advertising campaign (Italian Competition Authority v. ENI, ruling concerning ENI’s Diesel+ advertising campaign (2019). http://climatecasechart.com/non-us-case/italian-competition-authority-ruling-enis-diesel-advertising-campaign/).

43 Climate Change Litigation Database maintained jointly by the Sabin Center for Climate Change Law (Columbia University) and Arnold & Porter Kaye Scholer LLP: http://climatecasechart.com/ (Database 1); Climate Change Laws of the World database (excludes cases from the United States) maintained jointly by the Sabin Center for Climate Change Law and the Grantham Research Institute on Climate Change at the London School of Economics: https://climate-laws.org/litigation_cases (Database 2). For cases in Australia, New Zealand and Pacific Islands, see also the Australian and Pacific Climate Change Litigation database maintained by the University of Melbourne: https://law.app.unimelb.edu.au/climate-change/index.php. On the variety of remedies sought in PCL, see further below.

44 Including Argentina, Australia, Belgium, Brazil, Canada, the People’s Republic of China, Columbia, Denmark, Ecuador, France, Germany, India, Indonesia, Italy, Japan, the Netherlands, New Zealand, Nigeria, Norway, the Philippines, the UK, South Africa, South Korea, and Switzerland. Note that this number (98) includes several (but not all) cases before non-judicial procedures including before UN Special Rapporteurs, OECD National Contact Points and national human rights commission or competition authorities. Seven additional cases that potentially qualify as PCL are listed under the subcategory (others), and 16 protesters cases (climate protest-related criminal trials, which do not qualify as PCL). In September 2022, the Australian and Pacific Climate Change Litigation database reported 40 cases in the category ‘Corporate Accountability’, of which 13 concern transparency/disclosure, and nine consumer protection.

45 Nevertheless, certain indicators can be extrapolated. As at September 2022, Database 1/USA cases lists 24 cases in the category ‘Securities and Financial Regulation’, and 31 cases in the category ‘Actions seeking money damages for losses’ (most of which were directed against fossil fuel companies). Both of these categories generally fall within the definition of PCL as proposed here.

46 This number, again, includes cases before non-judicial dispute settlement bodies. The significantly higher number of cases compared to Database 1 may be explained, in part, by the appearance that Database 2 includes matters of planning law (such as disputes relating to construction permits).

47 In September 2022, the database of OECD Watch reports six cases related to climate change, filed before the NCPs of Australia, Germany, Italy, the Netherlands, Poland, and the United Kingdom (OECD Watch, Complaints Database www.oecdwatch.org/complaints-database). Depending on how broadly one interprets ‘climate-related’, the number of cases is probably higher (for instance, Database 1 includes further cases before the NCPs of countries such as Norway and Japan). Concerning the functioning of NCPs, see C. Kaufmann, National contact points and access to remedy under the UNGP – why two can make a dream so real, in N. Bonucci, C. Kessedjian (eds.), 40 Years of the OECD Guidelines for Multinational Enterprises (OECD, 2018), p. 175.

48 International Chamber of Commerce (2019), Resolving Climate Change-Related Disputes through Arbitration and ADR. https://iccwbo.org/climate-change-disputes-report.

49 For example, M. Horster, K. Papadopoulos, Climate change and proxy voting in the U.S. and Europe. Harvard Law School Forum on Corporate Governance and Financial Regulation, 2019. https://corpgovlaw.harvard.edu/2019/01/07/climate-change-and-proxy-voting-in-the-u-s-and-europe.

50 For instance, in Milieudefensie v. Royal Dutch Shell, the lawsuit was filed in 2019 by the Dutch association Milieudefensie in its own name as well as on behalf of 17,379 individual plaintiffs, and together with six Dutch co-plaintiffs, of which four foundations, an association, and a youth organisation.

51 In Milieudefensie v Royal Dutch Shell, in the part on the admissibility of the claim, the Court accepted the interests of current and future generations of Dutch residents and inhabitants of the Wadden Sea area that are resident in the Netherlands as being ‘suitable for bundling’ in a collective claim, but excluded the interests of current and future generations of the world’s population (para. 4.2.3–4.2.4).

52 For example, Ramirez v. ExxonMobil Corp. (2016) 3:16-cv-3111-K (Federal District Court for the Northern District of Texas); Sarah von Colditz derivatively on behalf of ExxonMobil Corporation v. Woods (2019) 3:19-cv-01067 (Federal District Court for the Northern District of Texas); Williams Derivatively on behalf of PG&E v. Earley (2018) 3:18-cv-07128-EDL (Federal District Court for the Northern District of California); York County v. Rambo (2019) 3:19-cv-00994 (Federal District Court for the Northern District of California).

53 For example, McVeigh v. Retail Employees Superannuation Trust (2018) NSD 1333/2018 (Federal Court of Australia) (McVeigh v REST); Fentress v. ExxonMobil Corp (2016) 4:16-cv-03484 (Federal District Court for the Southern District of Texas).

54 For example, People of the State of New York v. ExxonMobil (2018) 452044/2018 (New York Supreme Court); U.S. Department of Justice (2017), Volkswagen AG agrees to plead.

55 Ganguly et al., If at first you don’t succeed, p. 844. See, for example, Database 1/U.S. cases, category ‘Industry Lawsuits’ (50 cases as at September 2022).

56 See generally J. Setzer, C. Higham, Global trends in climate litigation: 2021 snapshot, pp. 27–30; Setzer and Vanhala, Climate change litigation, p. 1; Weber and Hösli, Climate change liability, pp. 158–162; Hösli and Weber, Klimaklagen gegen Unternehmen, p. 1.

57 For example, Fentress v. ExxonMobil Corp; Ramirez v ExxonMobil Corp. See also ClientEarth v. Board of Directors of Shell (2022). http://climatecasechart.com/non-us-case/clientearth-v-board-of-directors-of-shell/. See Weber and Hösli, Climate change liability, pp. 172–184.

58 For example, Kaiser et al. v. Volkswagen AG (Regional Court of Braunschweig, Germany), 2021. http://climatecasechart.com/non-us-case/kaiser-et-al-v-volkswagen-ag.

59 Four Islanders of Pari v. Holcim (Justice of the Peace of the Canton of Zug, Switzerland, 2022). http://climatecasechart.com/non-us-case/four-islanders-of-pari-v-holcim.

60 For example, McVeigh v. REST; Four NGOs v. ING Bank, Final Statement after examination of complaint, Dutch NCP, 19 April 2019; Abrahams v. Commonwealth Bank of Australia (2017) VID 879/2017 (Federal Court of Australia).

61 For example, Fossielvrij NL v. KLM (Amsterdam District Court, the Netherlands) (2022). http://climatecasechart.com/non-us-case/fossielvrij-nl-v-klm.

62 Smith v. Fonterra Co-operative Group Limited and Others [2020] NZHC 419, [2020] NZLR 394 (Smith v. Fonterra).

63 See, for example, M. Golnaraghi, J. Setzer, N. Brook, W. Lawrene, L. Williams, Climate Change Litigation – Insights into the Evolving Global Landscape (The Geneva Association, 2021), pp. 2526.

64 See, for example, Lliuya v. RWE; Four Islanders of Pari v. Holcim.

65 Injunctive Relief: for example, Milieudefensie and Others v. Royal Dutch Shell; Four Islanders of Pari v. Holcim Production of Documents: for example, Abrahams v Commonwealth Bank of Australia (2021) NSD864/2021 (Federal Court of Australia). http://climatecasechart.com/non-us-case/abrahams-v-commonwealth-bank-of-australia-2021.

66 See Four Islanders of Pari v. Holcim (combination of a compensation claim with seeking injunctive relief).

67 See discussion in, for example, B. Mayer, The duty of care of fossil-fuel producers for climate change mitigation. Transnational Environmental Law 2022, 11(2): 407418; L. Burgers, An apology leading to dystopia: or, why fuelling climate change is tortious. Transnational Environmental Law 2022, 11(2): 419431.

68 Stichting Urgenda v. The State of The Netherlands (Ministry of Economic Affairs and Climate Policy), Hague District Court, Case C/09/456689/HA ZA 13–1396, Judgment, 24 June 2015, as confirmed in The State of The Netherlands (Ministry of Economic Affairs and Climate Policy) v. Stichting Urgenda, Supreme Court of The Netherlands, Case 19/00135, Judgment of 20 December 2019.

69 See W. Frank, C. Bals, J. Grimm, The case of Huaraz: first climate lawsuit on loss and damage against an energy company before German courts, in R. Mechler, T. Schinko, S. Surminski, J. Linneroth-Bayer (eds.), Loss and Damage from Climate Change (Springer, 2019), pp. 475482; Hösli and Weber, Klimaklagen gegen Unternehmen, pp. 11–14.

70 Landgericht Essen, Decision of 15 December 2016, 2 O 285 (NVwZ 2017, p. 234).

71 Oberlandesgericht Hamm, Decision of 1 February 2018, I-5U 15/17, p. 4.

72 [2020] FCA 1698.

74 For example, in Lliuya v. RWE (Lliuya v. RWE, Landgericht Essen, Decision of 15 December 2016, 2 O 285 (NVwZ 2017, p. 234)) the claim is based on §1004 of the German Bürgerliches Gesetzbuch (Civil Code), a provision resembling the common law tort of nuisance.

75 With respect to director’s duties, see L. Benjamin, The road to Paris runs through Delaware: climate litigation and directors’ duties. Utah Law Review 2020, 2(1): 313381, at p. 347.

76 This was precisely the mechanism used in Milieudefensie v. Royal Dutch Shell, where the Court applied an openly framed standard of national law (Book 6, Section 162, of the Dutch Burgerlijk Wetboek (Civil Code) – a civil law statute resembling the common law tort of negligence), which it then interpreted in the light of the facts of the matter, climate science, human rights law, and relevant international standards on business conduct. See Hösli, Milieudefensie et al. v. Shell, pp. 197–208.

77 See Hösli, Milieudefensie et al. v. Shell, p. 209.

78 According to De Graaf and Jans, Dutch law allows a court to take into account standards in international law when interpreting open-ended norms in domestic law (reflex effect); see K. J. De Graaf, J. H. Jans, The Urgenda decision: Netherlands liable for role in causing dangerous global climate change. Journal of Environmental Law 2015, 27(3): 515527, at p. 525.

79 C. E. Forster, Novel climate tort? The New Zealand Court of Appeal decision in Smith v. Fonterra Co-operative Group Limited and others. Environmental Law Review 2022, 24(3): 224234. Foster points out that the case was grounded in three distinct claims: negligence, public nuisance and a proposed novel tort ‘breach of duty’.

80 See, for example, Setzer and Vanhala, Climate change litigation, pp. 9–10.

81 See, for example, P. Minnerop, F. E. L. Otto, Climate change and causation: joining law and climate science on the basis of formal logic. Buffalo Journal of Environmental Law 2020, 27(1): 4986, at p. 49.

82 S. Marjanac, L. Patton, Extreme weather event attribution science and climate change litigation: an essential step in the causal chain? Journal of Energy and Natural Resources Law 2018, 36(3): 265298, at pp. 291–293 (arguing that as attribution science improves in accuracy, forseeability as an essential element of a negligence claim ‘will increase in lockstep’). See generally R. F. Stuart-Smith et al., Filling the evidentiary gap in climate litigation. Nature Climate Change 2021, 11: 651655.

83 Hösli, Milieudefensie et al. v. Shell, pp. 200–202 (arguing that this claim is ‘probably farfetched’ and could have been more carefully discussed by the Court). See also C. Macchi, J. van Zeben, Business and human rights implications of climate change litigation: Milieudefensie et al. v. Royal Dutch Shell. RECIEL 2021, 30: 409–415, at p. 413.

84 See Hösli, Milieudefensie et al. v. Shell, pp. 202–203.

85 Bouwer, The unsexy future of climate change litigation, p. 484.

86 See, for example, L. Benjamin, Companies and Climate Change. Theory and Law in the United Kingdom (Cambridge University Press, 2021), p. 172 (adding that ‘(r)egulatory approaches which impose transnational liability on companies would prove a more comprehensive solution, but may be difficult to achieve’); C. P. Carlarne, The essential role of climate litigation and the courts in averting climate crisis, in Mayer and Zahar, Debating Climate Law, pp. 111–127.

87 See F. Thornton, ‘The Absurdity of Relying on Human Rights Law to Go After Emitters’, in Mayer and Zahar, Debating Climate Law, p. 159; A. Zahar, Shell and the essential irreducibility of collective responsibility for climate change (SSRN, 2021). https://papers.ssrn.com/sol3/papers.cfm?abstract_id=3898915. R. Gunderson, C. Fyock, The political economy of climate change litigation: is there a point to suing fossil fuel companies? New Political Economy 2022, 27(3): 441454: ‘bringing claims against corporations for civil wrongs will remain ineffective as a mitigation strategy because many carbon-intensive corporations can absorb substantial lawsuit-related costs and, even if legal costs push fossil fuel companies out of business, their competitors will step in to extract open reserves’. This ‘market substitution’ argument was rejected by the Court of First Instance of The Hague (Milieudefensie v. Royal Dutch Shell, paras. 4.4.49–50).

88 With respect to the influence of climate change litigation more broadly, see B. J. Preston, The influence of climate change litigation on governments and the private sector. Climate Law 2011, 2: 485513.

89 Germanwatch, Climate lawsuit against RWE in decisive phase: on-site meeting with experts in Peru concluded (press release, 2022). www.germanwatch.org/en/85437.

90 In pathways limiting global temperature increase to 1.5°C with no or limited overshoot (1.5°C pathways), global net anthropogenic CO2 emissions need to drop by about 45% until 2030 (compared to 2010 levels), reaching net zero around 2050.

91 See, for example, McVeigh v. REST.

92 Which has occurred in Milieudefensie v. Royal Dutch Shell, at paragraph 4.5.7: ‘The interest of (the plaintiffs) for the immediate compliance with the order by (the respondent) outweighs (the respondent’s) possible interest in maintaining the status quo until a final and conclusive decision has been made’.

19 The International Court of Justice Facing the Existential Threat of Climate Change What Legal Questions and for Whom?

1 UNFCCC, Nationally Determined Contributions under the Paris Agreement. Synthesis Report by the Secretariat, UN Doc. FCCC/PA/CMA/2021/8, 17 September 2021, paragraph 140. The Report synthesises information from the 164 available NDCs, representing all the Parties to the Paris Agreement, recorded in the interim NDCs registry on 30 July 2021 and covering 93.1% of total global emissions in 2019. For the text of the NDCs submitted to the States Parties, see https://unfccc.int/NDCREG.

3 Footnote Ibid. at para. 15. See also UNEP, Emission Gap Report 2021. www.unep.org/resources/emissions-gap-report-2021.

4 Footnote Ibid. at para. 38.

5 For an interesting analysis of this phenomenon and its financing, see L. Gradoni, M. Mantovani, ‘No kidding! mapping youth-led climate change litigation across the north–south divide. Verfassungsblog (24 March 2022). https://verfassungsblog.de/no-kidding.

6 For an updated list of cases, see the database of the Sabin Center for Climate Change Law (Columbia Law School), https://climate.law.columbia.edu.

7 A. Strauss, Climate change litigation: opening the door to the International Court of Justice’, in W. C. G. Burns, H. M. Osofsky (eds.), Adjudicating Climate Change: State, National, and International Approaches (Cambridge University Press, 2009), p. 334; P. Sands, Climate change and the rule of law: adjudicating the future in international law. Journal of Environmental Law 2016, 28(1): 1935; D. Bodansky, The role of the International Court of Justice in addressing climate change: some preliminary reflections. Arizona State Law Journal 2017, 49: 689712; A. Savaresi, Inter-State climate change litigation: ‘neither a chimera nor a panacea’, in I. Alogna, C. Bakker, J.-P. Gauci (eds.), Climate Change Litigation (Nijhoff, 2021), p. 366; A. Mile, Emerging legal doctrines in climate change law: seeking an advisory opinion from the International Court of Justice. Texas International Law Journal 2021, 56: 5994; M. Wewerinke-Singh, J. Aguon, J. Hunter, Bringing climate change before the International Court of Justice: prospects for contentious cases and advisory opinions, in Alogna et al. (eds.), Climate Change Litigation: Comparative and International Perspectives, p. 395.

8 See www.vanuatuicj.com. The World’s Youth for Climate Justice (WYCJ) supported the initiative with legal advice: WYCJ, Human rights in the face of the climate crisis: a youth-led initiative to bring climate justice to the International Court of Justice.

9 UN Doc. A/RES/77/276/, 29 March 2023.

11 See article 14 (2) of the UNFCCC, article 19 of the Kyoto Protocol and article 24 of the Paris Agreement.

12 D. A. Kysar, Climate change and the International Court of Justice. Yale Law School, Public Law Research Paper, 2013, pp. 16–18. https://papers.ssrn.com/sol3/papers.cfm?abstract_id=2309943.

13 ICJ, Corfù Channel Case (United Kingdom v. Albania), Judgment of 9 April 1949, ICJ Reports 1949, p. 4 ff., at p. 22; Legality of the Threat or Use of Nuclear Weapons, Advisory Opinion of 8 July 1996, ICJ Reports 1996, p. 226 ff., at p. 241, para. 41; Pulp Mills on the River Uruguay (Argentina v. Uruguay), Judgment of 20 April 2010, ICJ Reports 2010, p. 14 ff., at p. 55 ff., para. 110.

14 See the ILC’s Draft Articles on Prevention of Transboundary Harm from Hazardous Activities (Yearbook of the International Law Commission, 2001, vol. II, Part Two), especially article 3 and the related paragraphs 13 and 17 of the Commentary).

15 The Court would be called on to clarify whether the no-harm rule creates an objective regime of State responsibility, arising only because it pertains to activities carried out under a State jurisdiction or vis-à-vis injury to the environment of other States. The Court would also have to consider article 8 of the Paris Agreement, which recognises the importance of averting, minimising, and addressing losses and damages associated with the adverse effects of climate change, and would have to consider whether this provision, as interpreted via Decision 1/21 adopted at COP21, is lex specialis as regard the customary obligation of the responsible State to make full reparation to the injured State (see UN Doc. FCCC/CP/2015/10/Add.1, 26 January 2016, para. 51 and M. J. Mace, R. Verheyen, Loss, damage and responsibility after COP21: all options open for the Paris Agreement. Review of European, Comparative & International Environmental Law 2016, 25: 197214).

16 C. Voigt, State responsibility for climate change damages. Nordic Journal of International Law 2008, 77(1–2): 122.

17 ILC, Articles on Responsibility of States for International Wrongful Acts with Commentary, in Yearbook of the International Law Commission, 2001, vol. II, Part Two.

18 According to the Guiding Principles on Shared Responsibility in International Law (European Journal of International Law 2020, 31: 15), any international person is under an obligation to make full reparation for the indivisible injury caused by a single or multiple internationally wrongful acts (principle 10). Moreover, according to principle 12(1), an international person who makes full reparation for indivisible injury has a right of recourse against all other international persons that share responsibility for that injury. The commentary to principle 12 only recalls a couple of cases in State practice where the Principles have been applied and some legal means (mandate; negotiorum gestio; unjust enrichment) that entitle a legal person making full reparation to the right to recourse against other subjects that share responsibility for injury. This practice is not sufficient to codify an existing rule of customary law, or to develop a new one. Moreover, while some form of joint responsibility exists in different legal systems, it is not clear whether this is sufficient to establish a general principle of law (see the Commentary to Article 47 of the ARSIWA, parag. 3 and J. Peel, Climate change in A. Nollkaemper, I. Plakokefalos (eds.), The Practice of Shared Responsibility in International Law (Cambridge University Press, 2016), p. 1009.

19 Commentary to Article 47 of the ARSIWA, para. 3.

20 B. Mayer, The relevance of the no-harm principle to climate change law and politics. Asia Pacific Journal of Environmental Law 2016, 19: 79104.

21 Savaresi, Inter-State climate change litigation, p. 374.

22 See Chapter 17 by I. Alogna, N. Arnould, A. Holzhausen in this volume.

23 The State of The Netherlands (Ministry of Economic Affairs and Climate Policy) v. Urgenda, Supreme Court of the Netherlands, Case 19/00135, Cassation Judgment of 20 December 2019, para. 64.

24 BVerfG, Order of the First Senate, 24 March 2021, 1 BvR 2656/18. www.bverfg.de/e/rs20210324_1bvr265618en.html.

27 Supreme Court of Ireland, Friends of the Irish Environment v .the Government of Ireland and Others, Judgment of 31 July 2020, para. 6.43. www.courts.ie/view/judgments/681b8633-3f57-41b5-9362-8cbc8e7d9215/981c098a-462b-4a9a-9941-5d601903c9af/2020_IESC_49.pdf/pdf-.

28 Federal Supreme Court of Switzerland, Verein KlimaSeniorinnen Schweiz et al. v. Federal Department of the Environment, Transport, Energy and Communications, Judgment of 5 May 2020 No. 1C_37/2019. https://klimaseniorinnen.ch/wp-content/uploads/2020/06/Judgment-FSC-2020-05-05-KlimaSeniorinnen-English.pdf.

29 Supreme Court of Norway, Nature and Youth Norway and Others v. The State of Norway, Judgment of 22 December 2020. www.domstol.no/no/hoyesterett/avgjorelser/2020/hoyesterett-sivil/hr-2020-2472-p.

30 See, in particular, Inuit, Petition to the Inter-American Commission on Human Rights, Seeking Relief from Violations Resulting from Global Warming Caused by Acts and Omissions of the United States (7 December 2005). See also Verein Klimaseniorinnen Schweiz and Others v. Switzerland, ECtHR, Application No. 53600/20, communicated on 26 November 2020 and submitted to the Grand Chamber on 26 April 2022; Duarte Agostinho and Others v. Portugal and Other 32 States, ECtHR Application No. 39371/20, communicated on 7 September 2020 and submitted to the Grand Chamber on 29 June 2022; Carême v. France, ECtHR Application No. 7189/21, communicated on 28 January 2021 and submitted to the Grand Chamber on 31 May 2022. These cases concern alleged violations of the ECHR, particularly articles 2 and 8, by the respondent States for failure to comply with their undertakings, in the context of the Paris Agreement, to hold the increase in the global average temperature well below 2°C above pre-industrial levels and to pursue efforts to limit temperature increase to 1.5°C above the same levels. Instead, Application No. 34068/21 – Greenpeace Nordic and Others v. Norway – was only communicated to the court on 16 December 2021 and concerns the alleged violation by Norway of the ECtHR, particularly articles 2, 8, 13, and 14, because of the decision of the Norwegian authorities to issue petroleum production licences on the Norwegian continental shelf in the Barents Sea.

31 Committee on the Rights of the Child, Chiara Sacchi and Others v. Argentine, Brazil, France, Germany and Turkey, Decisions Adopted by the Committee on the Rights of the Child (UNCRC) under the Optional Protocol to the CRC in respect of Communications Nos. 104/2019, 105/2019 106/2019, 107/2019, 108/2019, 22 September 2021, available at https://juris.ohchr.org/search/results.

32 Human Rights Committee, Daniel Billy et al. v. Australia, Views Adopted by the Committee under Article 5 (4) of the Optional Protocol, Concerning Communication No. 3624/2019, CCPR/C/135/D/3624/2019, 22 September 2022.

33 See discussion below.

34 Wewerinke-Singh et al., Bringing climate change before the International Court of Justice, p. 411; Mile, Emerging legal doctrines in climate change law, p. 82.

35 See Kysar, Climate Change and the International Court of Justice, p. 1 ff.

36 Wewerinke-Singh et al., Bringing climate change before the International Court of Justice, p. 411; Mile, Emerging legal doctrines in climate change law, p. 66.

37 A very accurate list of national and international decisions and treaties referring to the principle of intergenerational equity is provided in a document submitted by the Centre for International Environmental Law to the UN Special Rapporteur on Human Rights and the Environment on 31 October 2017, available at www.ohchr.org/sites/default/files/Documents/Issues/Environment/SREnvironment/Child/CIEL.pdf.

38 For a list of national constitutions that include the principle of intergenerational equity, see www.ohchr.org/sites/default/files/Documents/Issues/Environment/SREnvironment/Child/CIEL.pdf.

39 ICJ, Advisory Opinion on the Legality of the Threat or Use of Nuclear Weapons, p. 241, para. 29. Emphasis added.

40 Footnote Ibid. at paras. 35 and 36.

41 Footnote Ibid. at paras. 30 and 33.

42 Footnote Ibid. at para. E of the Court’s findings.

43 Footnote Ibid. at para. 42.

44 ICJ, Case Concerning the Gabcíkovo-Nagymaros Project (Hungary v. Slovakia), Judgment of 25 September 1997, ICJ Reports 1997, para. 53.

45 Footnote Ibid. at para. 140.

47 In a hypothetical future inter-State dispute, the general principle of intergenerational equity might be used to consider whether the claimant State has made a prima facie case of damage to its interests sufficient to bring the case before the ICJ (see Nuclear Test (New Zealand v. France), ICJ Reports 1974, p. 457; Dissenting Opinion of the Judge Weeramantry, p. 341).

48 With the support of 161 States, and eight abstaining (the People’s Republic of China, Russian Federation, Belarus, Cambodia, Iran, Syria, Kyrgyzstan, and Ethiopia).

49 By a decision adopted at the end of the COP held in Glasgow in November 2021, the State Parties to the Paris Agreement further ‘resolve[d] to pursue efforts to limit the temperature increase to 1.5°C’: see para. 16 of the decision: https://unfccc.int/sites/default/files/resource/cop26_auv_2f_cover_decision.pdf.

50 C. Voigt, The Paris Agreement: what is the standard of conduct for parties? Questions of International Law 2016, 26: 17–28, at pp. 18-20.

51 Supreme Court of the Netherlands, The State of the Netherlands v. Urgenda Foundation, paras. 5.7.1–5.7.9 and BVerfG, Order, para. 197.

52 Opened for signature 22 November 1969, entered into force 18 July 1978.

53 Inter-American Court of Human Rights, The Environment and Human Rights, Advisory Opinion, OC-23/17, 15 November 2017. www.corteidh.or.cr/docs/opiniones/seriea_23_ing.pdf, para. 101.

54 Footnote Ibid. at para. 102.

55 Decision in respect of Argentina, paras. 10.5 and 10.7.

56 The IPCC’s Assessment Reports are regularly submitted to the Governments of the States Member of the Organisation and approved by the responsible Working Group, with the IPCC government representatives coming together in a Plenary Session of the Working Group: see IPCC, Factsheet: How Does the IPCC Approve Reports? www.ipcc.ch/site/assets/uploads/2021/07/AR6_FS_approve.pdf.

57 The State of The Netherlands (Ministry of Economic Affairs and Climate Policy) v. Stichting Urgenda, Supreme Court of the Netherlands, Case 19/00135, Cassation Judgment of 20 December 2019, para. 8.3.4.

58 ECHR, Rules of the Court, 16 September 2022. www.echr.coe.int/documents/rules_court_eng.pdf.

20 ‘The Story Is Part of the Success’ Narrating Climate Change

1 C. Bonneuil, The geological turn: narratives of the Anthropocene, in C. Hamilton, C. Bonneuil, F. Gemenne (eds.), The Anthropocene and the Global Environmental Crisis (Routledge, 2015), pp. 1732.

2 D. A. Chapman, B. Lickel, E. M. Markowitz, Reassessing emotion in climate change communication. Climate Change Nature 2017, 7(12): 850852; K. Fløttum, Ø. Gjerstad, Narratives in climate change discourse. WIREs Climate Change 2017,8(1): e429; S. C. Moser, Communicating climate change: history, challenges, process and future directions. WIREs Climate Change 2010, 1(1): 3153.

3 Podcast ‘The Nature of Nature: Why We Need the Wild with Enric Sala’. Outrage + Optimism, 31 July 2021; www.outrageandoptimism.org/episodes/the-nature-of-nature.

4 C. Jones, D. W. Hine, A. D. G. Marks, The future is now: reducing psychological distance to increase public engagement with climate change. Risk Analysis 2017, 37(2): 331341; A. Leiserowitz, Climate change risk perception and policy preferences: the role of affect, imagery, and values. Climatic Change 2006, 77(1–2): 4572. See also, for example, A. Spence, W. Poortinga, N. Pidgeon, The psychological distance of climate change. Risk Analysis 2012, 32(6): 957972.

5 Cf. K. M. Gustafsson, Environmental discourses and biodiversity: the construction of a storyline in understanding and managing an environmental issue. Journal of Integrative Environmental Sciences 2013, 10(1): 3954.

6 Footnote Ibid. at p. 42.

7 Footnote Ibid. at pp. 42–43.

8 B. V. Lewenstein, Models of public communication of science and technology. Public Understanding of Science (2003), https://perma.cc/S8ZL-TPKB.

9 D. Brossard, B. V. Lewenstein, A Critical Appraisal of Models of Public Understanding of Science: Using Practice to Inform Theory (Routledge, 2010).

10 S. O’Neill, S. Nicholson-Cole, ‘Fear won’t do it’: promoting positive engagement with climate change through visual and iconic representations. Science Communication 2009, 30(3): 355379.

11 T. Morton, A. Rabinovich, D. Marshall, P. Bretschneider, The future that may (or may not) come: how framing changes responses to uncertainty in climate change communications. Global Environmental Change 2011, 21(1): 103109; D. M. Harris, Telling stories about climate change. The Professional Geographer 2020, 72(3): 309316; W. Tayeebwa, C. Wendo, A. S. Nakiwala, Theories and models of science communication, in C. Wendo, Science Communication Skills for Journalists: A Resource Book for Universities in Africa, vol. 1, CABI, 2022, pp. 1423.

12 They remain relevant for scholars, media and a broader audience, justifying the need for theoretical reflection on science communication and its value for understanding how knowledge and science operate in society. See Tayeebwa et al., Theories and models of science communication, p. 21.

13 T. Brock, A conversation with Max Boykoff: climate change and the media. Boulder Magazine, 2016. https://getboulder.com/conversation-max-boykoff-climate-change-media; M. Boykoff, Who Speaks for the Climate? (Cambridge University Press, 2011).

14 Moser, Communicating climate change, p. 31.

15 Fløttum and Gjerstad, Narratives in climate change discourse; S. van der Leeuw, The role of narratives in human–environmental relations: an essay on elaborating win–win solutions to climate change and sustainability. Climatic Change 2020, 160(4): 509519; E. O. Wilson, The power of story. American Educator 2002, 26(1): 811.

16 Chapman et al., Reassessing emotion in climate change; Fløttum and Gjerstad, Narratives in climate change discourse; Moser, Communicating climate change, p. 31.

17 M. Moezzi, K. B. Janda, S. Rotmann, Using stories, narratives, and storytelling in energy and climate change research. Energy Research & Social Science, 2017, 31: 110.

18 Harris, Telling stories about climate change, p. 310.

19 Moezzi et al., Using stories, narratives, and storytelling, p. 3.

20 Footnote Ibid. at p. 4.

21 K. Egan, Imagination in Teaching and Learning: The Middle School Years (University of Chicago Press, 2014), p. 70.

22 M. Galica, M. Marczuk, How to word it: the nature and climate change narrative’s shortcomings. The Twenties (2021). https://lata-dwudzieste.pl/en.

23 E. Bińczyk, Epoka człowieka. Retoryka i marazm antropocenu (Wydawnictwo Naukowe PWN, 2018).

24 G. Dürbeck, P. Hüpkes, The Anthropocenic Turn: The Interplay between Disciplinary and Interdisciplinary Responses to a New Age (Routledge, 2021).

25 R. Nixon, The Great Acceleration and the Great Divergence: vulnerability in the Anthropocene. Profession 2014, 14.

26 Moezzi et al., Using stories, narratives, and storytelling, p. 3.

27 Cf. Bińczyk, Epoka człowieka. Retoryka i marazm antropocenu; N. Castree, The Anthropocene and the environmental humanities: extending the conversation. Environmental Humanities 2014, 5(1): 233260.

28 B. Suldovsky, The information deficit model and climate change communication. Climate Science, September 2017. https://doi.org/10.1093/acrefore/9780190228620.013.301.

29 M. T. Boykoff, Who Speaks for the Climate? Making Sense of Media Reporting on Climate Change (Cambridge University Press, 2011).

30 Suldovsky, The information deficit model.

33 G. Readfearn, et al., Inside Australia’s climate emergency: the new fire zone. The Guardian, 12 February 2020. www.theguardian.com/environment/ng-interactive/2020/feb/12/living-in-the-climate-emergency-australias-new-fire-zone.

34 Footnote Ibid., quoting Lisa Groom.

35 H. Davidson, A. Morton, L. Molan, The frontline inside Australia’s climate emergency: the killer heat. The Guardian (2021). www.theguardian.com/environment/ng-interactive/2020/feb/27/killer-heat-how-a-warming-land-is-changing-australia-forever.

36 G. Readfearn et al., Inside Australia’s climate emergency, quoting Diana Egerton-Warburton.

37 For example, K. Razavi, Have We Improved the Way We Talk about Climate Change? 2019. https://opencanada.org/have-we-improved-way-we-talk-about-climate-change.

38 S. Roeser, Emotional engineers: toward morally responsible engineering. Science and Engineering Ethics 2012, 18(1): 103115.

39 A. L. Meijnders, C. J. H. Midden, H. A. M. Wilke, Role of negative emotion in communication about CO2 risks. Risk Analysis 2001, 21(5): 955956; S. Roeser, Emotional engineers, p. 1033; E. U. Weber, ‘Experience-based and description-based perceptions of long-term risk: why global warming does not scare us (yet). Climatic Change 2006, 77(1–2): 103120.

40 Cf. L. Zagzebski, Emotion and moral judgment. Philosophy and Phenomenological Research 2003, 66(1): 104124.

41 S. Roeser, Emotional engineers, p. 1038.

42 S. R. J. Sheppard, Landscape visualisation and climate change: the potential for influencing perceptions and behavior. Environmental Science & Policy 2005, 8(6): 637654; Meijnders et al., Role of negative emotion in communication about CO2 risks.

43 C. R. Sunstein, Moral heuristics and risk, in S. Roeser (ed.), Emotions and Risky Technologies (Springer, 2010), pp. 316.

44 S. Roeser, Risk communication, public engagement, and climate change: a role for emotions. Risk Analysis 2012, 32(6): 10331040, at pp. 1036–1037.

45 Footnote Ibid.; Weber, Experience-based and description-based perceptions of long-term risk.

46 Cf. B. Ross, W. Davis, Marketing risks: the mindless acceptance of risks is promoted by emotional appeals, in S. Roeser (ed.), Emotions and Risky Technologies, p. 61.

47 Harris, Telling stories, p. 309.

48 Footnote Ibid., p. 312.

49 See, for example, A. Leiserowitz, Global Warming’s Six Americas. Yale University (2016). http://climatecommunication.yale.edu/about/projects/global-warmings-sixamericas/.

51 Harris, Telling stories, p. 313.

52 Footnote Ibid. at p. 312.

53 Footnote Ibid. at p. 313.

54 G. Gigerenzer, Reckoning with Risk (Penguin, 2002).

55 W. Krauß, S. Bremer, The role of place-based narratives of change in climate risk governance. Climate Risk Management 2020, 28: 100221, at p. 4.

58 Footnote Ibid. at p. 6.

59 Galica and Marczuk, How to word it, p. 4.

60 Footnote Ibid. at p. 22.

62 Footnote Ibid. at pp. 23–24.

63 Footnote Ibid. at p. 26.

64 Footnote Ibid. at p. 27.

65 Footnote Ibid. at p. 30.

66 Footnote Ibid. at p. 27.

67 Footnote Ibid. at p. 28.

68 Footnote Ibid. at p. 32.

69 Footnote Ibid. at p. 33.

70 Bińczyk, Epoka człowieka. Retoryka i marazm antropocenu. Translation by the author.

72 Castree, The Anthropocene and the environmental humanities, p. 233.

73 D. M. J. S. Bowman, What is the relevance of pyrogeography to the Anthropocene? The Anthropocene Review 2015, 2(1): 7376; J. Kunnas, Storytelling: from the early Anthropocene to the good or the bad Anthropocene. The Anthropocene Review 2017, 4(2): 136150.

74 Kunnas, Storytelling, p. 146.

75 Bińczyk, Epoka człowieka. Retoryka i marazm antropocenu.

76 Manifesto for the Ecological Humanities, ANU Fenner School of Environment & Society. https://fennerschool-associated.anu.edu.au/ecologicalhumanities/manifesto.php.

77 D.B. Rose, T. van Dooren, M. Chrulew, S. Cooke, M. Kearnes, E. O’Gorman, Thinking through the environment, unsettling the humanities. Environmental Humanities 2012, 1(1): 15.

78 Bińczyk, Epoka człowieka. Retoryka i marazm antropocenu.

79 Z. Wróblewski, Natura i cele: dyskusja argumentu teleologicznego na rzecz ochrony przyrody (Lublin, 2010); Bińczyk, Epoka człowieka. Retoryka i marazm antropocenu.

80 D. Chakrabarty, The climate of history: four theses. Critical Inquiry 2009, 35(2): 197222.

81 V. Plumwood, Animals and ecology: towards a better integration (working/technical paper, Australian National University, 2003). http://hdl.handle.net/1885/41767, p. 2.

82 Bińczyk, Epoka człowieka. Retoryka i marazm antropocenu.

85 G. Albrecht, The Age of Solastalgia. The Conversation (7 August 2012). https://theconversation.com/the-age-of-solastalgia-8337.

86 K. E. McNamara, R. Westoby, Solastalgia and the gendered nature of climate change: an example from Erub Island, Torres Strait. EcoHealth 2021, 8(2): 233236, at p. 236.

87 P. Tschakert, J. Barnett, N. Ellis, et al., Climate change and loss, as if people mattered: values, places, and experiences. WIREs Climate Change 2017, 8(5): e476.

88 L. Dobrowolska, T. Ormond-Skeaping, Luki w narracjach o klimacie (interview by Aleksandra Lipczak, Przekrój, 22 July 2020). https://przekroj.pl/kultura/luki-w-narracjach-o-klimacie-aleksandra-lipczak.

89 M. Budziszewska, Jak opowiedzieć powagę zmiany klimatu, Zmieniamy opowieść. Kryzys klimatyczny jako kryzys wyobraźni Jak opowiedzieć powagę zmiany klimatu (radio program episode, Audycje TOK FM, 8 December 2021). https://audycje.tokfm.pl/podcast/115516,Jak-opowiedziec-powage-zmiany-klimatu.

90 On the one hand, apocalyptic visions can weaken the ability to negotiate solutions and act effectively; on the other hand, they may seem unrealistic and irrelevant. Optimistic narratives that are simplistic and shallow are similarly non-productive. Cf. M. Jakubowiak, Ostatni Ludzie: Wymyślanie Końca Świata (Czarne, 2021).

91 J. R. Marlon, B. Bloodhart, M. T., Ballew, et al., How hope and doubt affect climate change mobilization. Frontiers in Communication 2019, 4(20).

92 Footnote Ibid. at p. 12.

93 T. Morton, Philosophy and Ecology After the End of the World (University of Minnesota Press, 2013).

94 R. Nixon, Slow Violence and the Environmentalism of the Poor (Harvard University Press, 2013).

95 L. Buell, The Environmental Imagination: Thoreau, Nature Writing, and the Formation of American Culture (The Belknap Press of Harvard University Press, 1995), p. 2.

96 A. Ghosh, The Great Derangement: Climate Change and the Unthinkable (Chicago University Press, 2016).

97 Cf. Galica and Marczuk, How to word it, p. 17.

98 For example, B. Marschütz, S. Bremer, H. Runhaar, et al., Local narratives of change as an entry point for building urban climate resilience. Climate Risk Management 2020, 28: 100223.

99 J. Baztan, J. -P. Vanderlinden, L. Jaffrès, B. Jorgensen, Z. Zhu, Facing climate injustices: community trust-building for climate services through arts and sciences narrative co-production. Climate Risk Management 2020, 28: 100253; C. da Cunha, A. P. F. Rochas, M. Cardon, et al., Adaptation planning in France: inputs from narratives of change in support of a community-led foresight process. Climate Risk Management 2020, 30: 100243.

100 Baztan et al., Facing climate injustices, at p. 4.

101 Bińczyk, Epoka człowieka. Retoryka i marazm antropocenu.

102 Dürbeck and Hüpkes, The Anthropocenic Turn.

103 Baztan et al., Facing climate injustices; B. Latour, An attempt at a ‘Compositionist Manifesto’. New Literary History 2010, 41: 471–490.

104 Cf. Moezzi et al., Using stories, narratives, and storytelling, pp. 1–10.

105 A. Zwickle, R. Wilson, Construing risk; implications for risk communication, in J. Arvai, R. I. Louie (eds.) Effective Risk Communication (Routledge, 2013), pp. 121.

Figure 0

Figure 14.1 Exporters of CBAM products to the EU

(source: A Dumitru, B Kölb, M. Wiffelaars, The Carbon Border Adjustment Mechanism Explained. www.rabobank.com/knowledge/d011297275-the-carbon-border-adjustment-mechanism-explained).
Figure 1

Figure 14.2 Summary map of regional, national, and subnational carbon pricing initiatives.

Source: Figure reproduced from Bruegel’s blog post written by André Sapir, www.bruegel.org/blog-post/european-unions-carbon-border-mechanism-and-wto.
Figure 2

Figure 14.3 WTO, obligation to curb GHG emissions and carbon border adjustment measures.

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