
Numerous forces are impeding the shift towards zero emissions, including populists, protectionists, and fossil-fuel industry lobbyists. However, a significant obstacle is not political, but rather physical.
In 2024, global emissions saw another increase, significantly surpassing the average of the last decade, as per the International Energy Agency. This surge was attributed not to economic expansion, but to heat. Unprecedented temperatures prompted higher air conditioner usage, stressed power networks, and underscored that our current infrastructure was designed for a less heated environment.
This presents a peculiar paradox: as the planet warms, cooling it becomes increasingly challenging. Each wildfire disrupting a transmission line, every flood inundating a road, and each heatwave impairing a solar farm collectively impede the very systems intended to supersede fossil fuels. The increased vulnerability of our societies directly correlates with a slower transition from fossil fuels.
Time is of the essence. The world is presently exceeding 1.5°C, the critical threshold separating hazardous from catastrophic alterations. Nevertheless, the majority of national climate objectives are still outdated and inadequate. By early November 2025, less than half of G20 nations, responsible for 80% of global emissions, had submitted revised 2035 strategies. The disparity between public suffering and political action is expanding.
This is the reality COP30 in Belém needs to confront. It should mark the point where leaders acknowledge that global transitions are no longer occurring on a predictable planet. This is the juncture where adaptation becomes crucial.
For a long time, “adaptation” was uttered quietly, seen as a last resort or a veiled admission of defeat. It implied action only when options were exhausted. Speaking openly about it often risked appearing to concede.
However, the “adapt later” mindset is obsolete. The most vulnerable communities are now demonstrating what true adaptation leadership entails: evacuation shelters for cyclones and floods in Bangladesh, robust infrastructure in the Marshall Islands, and drought-tolerant seeds in Ethiopia. Their accumulated wisdom serves as a guide for everyone else.
Nevertheless, silence on this matter carries political implications. Labeling adaptation as “defeat” can serve as a moral justification, allowing avoidance of critical questions regarding who should cease fossil fuel consumption and who bears responsibility for the damage. Such a perspective safeguards corporate financial health rather than safeguarding communities. It conflates proactive measures with capitulation.
We should cease viewing adaptation as a failure to avert climate change and instead embrace it as a preparedness to lead. The crucial inquiry is not “what level of climate change can we withstand,” but rather “who possesses the capacity to reconstruct, safeguard, and flourish amidst incessant upheaval?”
André Corrêa do Lago, Brazil’s Ambassador for Climate Change, has articulated this clearly. In a recent address to the global community, he defined adaptation as “the resolve of individuals to safeguard what they cherish,” emphasizing it’s not a secondary option to mitigation, but rather “the initial component of our survival.”
His assessment is accurate. The forthcoming challenge involves not merely damage control, but a fundamental redesign of strength. Our transition is occurring on an unpredictable planet. Should we reduce emissions without simultaneously fostering resilience, the transition will falter with each successive shock. Conversely, if we prioritize adaptation without curbing emissions, we will effectively be constructing defenses against an ever-increasing deluge.
Therefore, what implications would it have for leaders at COP30 to elevate adaptation to a primary concern?
Firstly: quantify our protective efforts. The Global Goal on Adaptation, conceived in Paris and structured at COP28, requires finalization. Just as we quantify carbon emissions, we can also quantify safety. Belém has the opportunity to complete a framework for monitoring protection, similar to how we monitor pollution: by assessing the reduction in vulnerability, the enhancement of systemic strength, and the improvement in human safety.
Secondly: deploy financial resources with the urgency the crisis demands. The UNEP Adaptation Gap Report outlines a need for $1.3 trillion annually in climate finance by 2035. This strategy must translate into concrete pledges to replenish adaptation and loss-and-damage funds, surpass the Glasgow commitment to double adaptation finance by 2025, and aim for a threefold increase by 2030, directly benefiting farmers, municipal leaders, engineers, and innovators. Crucially, funding must reach nations whose financial stability is eroding due to climate-induced losses they did not instigate. The suggested Climate Resilience Debt Swap, starting with $25 billion, could finally fulfill the pledge to double adaptation finance by 2025.
Thirdly: construct only what is built to last. Resilience ought to become the guiding principle for development. All new roads, bridges, and dwellings should be engineered to withstand the climate conditions we currently experience. The positive aspect is that this is not an arduous undertaking, as adaptation represents a sound investment. From robust housing solutions to advanced early warning systems, adaptation initiatives consistently yield returns several times their initial cost through preventing losses, creating employment, and fostering stability. A recent worldwide study estimates that each dollar allocated to climate adaptation can produce in excess of $10 in benefits.
COP30 in Belém has the potential to be the pivotal moment where adaptation is re-envisioned not as a concession, but as the force that renders the transition irreversible, enabling us to concurrently phase out fossil fuels and integrate resilience.