An unofficial proposal for a fossil fuel nonproliferation treaty is gaining popularity at the UN’s annual climate meeting.
In the climate-change era, everyone who has oil wants to be the last one to sell it. Oil-producing countries still plan to increase production in the near term, and very few economic incentives exist to press them in any other direction. As long as someone else still has oil, they’ll sell it to your customer in your stead. Oil-industry insiders have said this point-blank throughout this year’s United Nations climate talks in Dubai, which are scheduled to end tomorrow.
The economic disincentives to phasing out fossil fuels have been the “elephant in the room,” according to Susana Muhamad, the environment minister of Colombia’s first-ever leftist government, who has emerged as a vocal leader in the meeting’s plenary rooms. Some of the countries most dependent on income from oil and gas are also among the ones most indebted to foreign banks, and so they keep drilling to stay current with payments. Countries such as Ecuador are exploiting their reserves—even in protected rainforest ecosystems—to service their painfully high debt. (Ecuadorians voted this August to block drilling in at least one part of the rainforest, for now.)
As one of South America’s biggest oil producers, Colombia is—or should be—another case like Ecuador. The country has a lot of international debt, so according to traditional economics, it had better keep pumping that oil. Instead of falling into that “economic trap,” Muhamad told me, over an espresso in an Emirati restaurant inside the sprawling COP campus, the country decided to veer radically off course. It announced in Dubai that it would sign on to a novel attempt to fix this seemingly intractable logic, one that has been gaining momentum outside negotiating rooms: a fossil-fuel-nonproliferation agreement.
Modeled in concept after the nuclear-nonproliferation deal signed in 1968, the Fossil Fuel Nonproliferation Treaty is not official COP business, but is at the center of a growing side conversation. Like the Nuclear Nonproliferation Treaty, the fossil-fuel treaty aims first to take stock of each country’s resources; the organization Carbon Tracker Initiative has already begun compiling a registry of fossil-fuel production and reserves. Then agreements could be made to mutually halt expansion. So far, 12 countries have signed on to support the deal; Colombia is the second oil-and-gas-producing country to join. (Timor-Leste, an island nation in Southeast Asia with a struggling oil economy, was the first.) Ultimately, the treaty’s signees intend to have it recognized by international law and be legally binding.
Tzeporah Berman, a longtime Canadian environmental activist and the chair of the group pushing for the fossil-fuel treaty, has had “an out-of-body experience” watching the treaty take on a life of its own, she told me when I caught up with her at the conference. “Last year, we walked into COP with one country,” she said. The tiny island nation of Vanuatu called for the fossil-fuel treaty on the floor of the 2022 UN General Assembly. Now, in addition to those 12 countries, 95 cities and subnational governments have signed a call for nonproliferation, along with 3,000 academics and scientists and 101 Nobel laureates. Mark Ruffalo is a fan. Those other entities can’t be party to the treaty when it ultimately forms (only countries can do that), but Berman sees their collective support as a force to move public opinion—much as the nuclear-nonproliferation movement started by turning the moral tide on nuclear weapons. If everyone who thinks that fossil-fuel expansion is morally unacceptable backs a single treaty, that could have major political ripple effects, she thinks.
Berman spent a number of years as a provincial-government appointee working with the Alberta oil-sands industry on climate policy. Though their goals are at odds, she is still friendly with a number of oil-sands executives, and in Dubai, she happens to be staying in the same hotel, so she greets them in the lobby in the morning. Canada put 28 oil-and-gas-industry employees on its official roster for the climate talks. “The industry has made $2.8 billion in profits every day for 50 years,” she said. “They’re trying to hold on to that.” After working with them, she clearly understood one thing: “Anything that out-and-out constrained the production of their products, they would not support.” They have maintained this position in Dubai, where Exxon Mobil’s CEO and others have expressed their preference for agreements that focus on limiting carbon emissions generally—not on limiting fossil fuel production specifically.
Berman saw a similar reticence from countries when she started coming to COPs in 2007, she told me. “I was told by governments, including my own, that oil production was not a climate issue.” When a blockbuster climate deal finally emerged from a COP in 2015, she said she “searched the Paris Agreement for oil, gas, and coal,” but the words weren't there. Every country had committed to tackling climate change, yet none of them officially planned to cut fossil-fuel production. And since then, production has gone up.
So Berman began talking with academics, looking for a political strategy that had worked in the past to break this type of standoff. The nuclear-nonproliferation movement stood out. It was a case much like climate change: The threat at hand had the potential for mutual assured destruction, a danger that many agreed was unacceptable, yet no country wanted to go first in eliminating its part of that danger.
With a fossil-fuel-nonproliferation treaty, countries could share information on their oil and gas reserves and agree to a mutual drawdown schedule that reflects their individual situations. “It’s also an instrument to look for better and more fair conditions for countries like Colombia,” Muhamad, the environment minister, said. The country has roughly seven years’ worth of oil reserves left, and is expected to run out of gas in this decade. Changing course, she said, would save the country from being locked into a downward spiral of aggressive oil drilling and then a financial crisis when it ran out. Plus, to meet the Paris Agreement’s climate goals, Colombia can’t possibly unearth all its oil. With so many cities and subnational governments also signed on to support the nonproliferation agreement, economic dialogues might be possible among more entities. Muhamad pointed to California, which has supported the nonproliferation treaty. “But who buys 50 percent of their oil from Ecuador in the Amazon? The state of California. So what is California going to do about it? This is the discussion that we have to have.”
Ecuador has not yet signed the treaty, but Colombia, Ecuador, and similar countries are, as Muhamad put it, “not Saudi Arabia,” with its seemingly endless reserves. Colombia and Ecuador will run out of oil. Which means they have less to lose, long-term, from agreeing to leave it in the ground. “We don’t have resources for hundreds of years. We are the ones right now who could do this transition,” she said. But their short-term financial needs are too pressing to leave the oil there for nothing in return. Plus, when her country does try to move in this direction, it is punished in the markets, she said. After Colombian President Gustavo Petro announced that the government would cease issuing new permits for oil exploration, the value of its peso dropped immediately. The financial system needs to change, Muhamad said, or countries like hers won’t be able to take meaningful climate action. “And a treaty could be the place where we could negotiate now, not in 15 years, when nobody wants our oil.”
Of course, that logic won’t work for mega-producers such as the U.S. and Saudi Arabia, or even for smaller countries such as Azerbaijan, which gets two-thirds of its wealth from oil and gas, and which was just announced this week as the host of next year’s COP. But, Berman argues, treaties change the culture, even in the absence of the biggest players. The nuclear-nonproliferation deal had limits—the five major nuclear powers, including the U.S. and Russia, still have their arsenals—but it did change the trend of unrestrained weapons production. More recently, a UN treaty banned nuclear weapons outright. No nuclear power signed on, but such treaties can succeed nonetheless: The Guardian notes that the U.S. never signed a UN land-mine treaty, yet aligned its land-mine policy to match. The dangers of using oil are more diffuse than the dangers of nuclear weapons, and the incentives to use it are constant. Decoupling those things will take a monumental effort—something treaties are designed to do.
Ministers at COP28 have spent nearly the past two weeks sitting in large, carpeted rooms negotiating a text that, up until today, contained a call to phase out fossil fuels altogether. John Kerry, the U.S. climate envoy, had said during the conference that he thinks the world needs “largely a phaseout of fossil fuels in our energy system,” a distinct difference from the less forceful “phase down” language the U.S. previously supported. China said it would commit to some language on fossil fuels, which was better than no language.
For a few days, it felt like a radical new approach to oil and gas might be possible. But Saudi Arabia and the head of OPEC had been attempting to block the phaseout proposal, and today COP President Sultan Al Jaber released a new draft of negotiated text that eliminated the possibility, instead leaning on the much softer language of “reducing” fossil fuels. The European Union has said it will not accept this version of the text, leaving open the door to restoring some stronger language. Yet even the discussion of a phaseout at COP represented a change in the rhetoric of some powerful countries: Once, Berman told me, talking about oil production at all was a nonstarter. Diplomacy might have limits, but it can bring ideas once treated as impossible dreams into the mainstream. A treaty to stop expanding the frontier of fossil-fuel production could go the same way, or further. “At the beginning, it seems to be something on the periphery,” Muhamed said. “But maybe from the periphery, it goes to the center.”
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