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We build individual and collective power through education, facilitation, and skill sharing. By investing in people and communities, we strengthen the foundations of climate action.
We ensure resources flow where they're needed most, redistributing financial and material support to enable effective climate action at all levels.
We create and share intersectional knowledge that bridges lived experiences, traditional wisdom, and climate science, developing the deep understanding needed for meaningful change.
We craft and amplify powerful narratives that inspire hope, nurture collective optimism, and mobilize communities for climate action. Through stories, we connect individual action to collective impact.
We support the healing of both land and community, strengthening our connection to place and each other. Through regenerative practices, we rebuild the resilience needed for long-term change.
Spanning 670 million hectares and housing 10% of all species on Earth, the Amazon rainforest plays a crucial role in regulating the global climate, supporting biodiversity, sustaining local economies, and providing for millions of people, including numerous Indigenous communities. The Amazon is one of our planet’s most vital ecosystems but its increasingly threatened state represents an alarming symbol of the climate crisis. Massive deforestation, driven by extractive industries such as commercial logging, mining, and industrial agriculture, as well as infrastructural projects, continues to threaten the region, raising alarm bells among scientists, activists, and people who call the Amazon home.
The Amazon is the largest rainforest in the world and has a massive impact on global carbon emissions and clean air, making it an essential ecosystem for all living beings on Earth. Known as one of the world’s lungs, the Amazon produces more than 20% of the world’s oxygen by taking in carbon dioxide and releasing oxygen into the atmosphere via photosynthesis. Because of its sheer size, it is a massive carbon sink, effective at storing 1-2 billion tons of carbon annually and sequestering more carbon dioxide from the atmosphere than it emits.
The Amazon is also essential for ecological and societal functions at the local level. Millions of species, including humans, living in the rainforest rely on the natural resources at their disposal for survival as well as spiritual and cultural practices. For many Indigenous Peoples, such as the Yanomamo, the Waiapi, and the Waorani, the Amazon is their home and a part of their identities. “She [the rainforest] is also like our mother, who gives us attention, sustenance, [and] takes care of our health. We don’t need to deforest her to survive because she already gives us sustenance,” said Genilson Guajajara, an Indigenous photographer who lives in Piçarra Preta, a village in the Maranhão state of the Brazilian Amazon. They have thrived in the rainforests for millennia, producing their own agricultural products, clothes, and even medicine. It is also a reciprocal relationship—studies have found that Indigenous-managed lands support more threatened vertebrate species and have higher biodiversity levels than existing protected or non-protected areas in Brazil.
Deforestation threatens this equilibrium. It is estimated that the Amazon lost over 54.2 million hectares, or about 9% of its forests, between 2001 and 2020 due to deforestation. Unfortunately, the Brazilian Amazon's destruction rate increased to more than 4,600 square miles per year, nearly double the amount in 2012.
Human extractive use is the leading cause of Amazonian deforestation, motivated by commercial cattle ranching, soy production, and gold mining—both legally and illegally. Deforestation occurs when trees are cut down by logging or intentional burning to clear land for extractive uses. Infrastructure also plays an important role in promoting further deforestation, by stimulating “disorderly occupation” of the land and placing pressure on Indigenous Territories (ITs) and Protected Natural Areas (PNAs) in the Amazon; roads allow the transportation and outflow of Amazonian merchandise (ie. lumber, agricultural products) to easily leave the land. This also incentivizes land grabbing, which is the invasion of ITs and PNAs by using forged documents certifying possession and other intimidation tactics to force Indigenous communities to give up their land.
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Cutting down forests releases huge amounts of carbon dioxide into the atmosphere that have been trapped in trees and soil for years. Fires used to clear forest can also emit additional carbon dioxide besides the amount from removing the actual trees. The resulting tree loss leads to a decreasing level of carbon dioxide absorption in the Amazon, minimizing its effectiveness at acting as a carbon sink. Researchers have found that the Amazon may only be “absorbing half as much carbon dioxide as it did 20 years ago” due to deforestation.
Additionally, this loss in vegetation can negatively affect water cycles and trigger a cycle of desertification at the regional and global levels, causing a decrease in transpiration and evaporation of rainfall. A 2014 study found that widespread destruction of the Amazon can cause less rain and snowpack in certain parts of North America, among other continents.
Indigenous communities have good reason to protect the Amazon and they possess a potential solution to prevent further destruction if they have the legal rights to manage and live in the land. A report from the World Resource Institute found that deforestation in Indigenous community forests was less than 1%, compared to 7% outside them from 2000 to 2012, leading to more stored carbon per hectare than other areas of the Brazilian Amazon.
Currently, the Brazilian Constitution recognizes Indigenous Peoples’ “sociopolitical and original right to land” and guarantees they have access to “the lands they traditionally occupy” upon the Union’s demarcation of these territories. Per Article 231 of the Constitution, Indigenous communities are not granted full property rights to their territories unless they go through a legal process called demarcation. This process ensures that third parties cannot contest Indigenous land rights, and extractive activities cannot be done within the land without approval from the Indigenous communities and the National Congress of Brazil. A study found that territories with full property rights show a significant decrease in deforestation, especially from illegal activities.
Legal protections for Indigenous land rights exist on paper, but enforcement often falls short in practice. Despite their role in conserving one of Earth’s most essential ecosystems, Indigenous communities have faced threats of displacement for years as deforestation has increased by 129% inside ITs from 2013 to 2021. This is often due to weakened legal protections from the government, as a result of changing political leaders that reverse pre-existing environmental regulations and weaken policies that protect Indigenous land rights. Without government support, Indigenous communities have taken to patrolling their land against land grabbers, often leading to violent conflicts and further vulnerability to threats of degradation of their home and livelihood. These communities’ way of living—and thus, their commitment to managing and protecting the Amazon—will be compromised without substantial political backing from the countries where the Amazon resides and from international support.
However, political action must be based on the knowledge of Indigenous communities to create effective and meaningful results. The halting of deforestation in the Amazon is more than a climate change dilemma; it is also a dilemma that determines the survival of their people and culture. “When you destroy [...] this forest, you also destroy the life of the people who depend on it,” said Guajajara. They will continue the fight because their lives depend on it—and so must we.
Esther Duong (she/her) is a Vietnamese-American storyteller and activist from the Bay Area, California, USA. She has an interest in environmental policy and environmental justice issues within conservation and urban planning. She’s been involved in city and regional advocacy for five years and has experience in youth-led grassroot lobbying and environmental science education. She received a bachelor’s degree in Environmental Policy Analysis and Planning at UC Davis, with a minor in Landscape Restoration.
1 Zanon, S. (2023). Deforestation in the Amazon: past, present and future. (M. Rinaldi, Trans.). InfoAmazonia.
2 Baragwanath, K. & Bayi, E. (2020). Collective property rights reduce deforestation in the Brazilian Amazon, Proc. Natl. Acad. Sci. U.S.A. 117 (34) 20495-20502, https://doi.org/10.1073/pnas.1917874117
3 Adams, E. et al. (2020). Deforestation Hits Home: Indigenous Communities Fight for the Future of Their Amazon. Center for Strategic & International Studies Journalism.
4 Adams, E. et al. (2020). Deforestation Hits Home: Indigenous Communities Fight for the Future of Their Amazon. Center for Strategic & International Studies Journalism.
5 Ibid
6 Zanon, S. (2023). Deforestation in the Amazon: past, present and future. (M. Rinaldi, Trans.). InfoAmazonia.
7 Adams, E. et al. (2020). Deforestation Hits Home: Indigenous Communities Fight for the Future of Their Amazon. Center for Strategic & International Studies Journalism.
8 Zanon, S. (2023). Deforestation in the Amazon: past, present and future. (M. Rinaldi, Trans.). InfoAmazonia.
9 Wegrowski, B (2019). Deforestation in the Amazon Rainforest. Ballard Brief.
10 Ibid
11 Ibid
12 Baragwanath, K. & Bayi, E. (2020). Collective property rights reduce deforestation in the Brazilian Amazon, Proc. Natl. Acad. Sci. U.S.A. 117 (34) 20495-20502, https://doi.org/10.1073/pnas.1917874117
13 Ibid
14 Silva-Junior, C.H.L., Silva, F.B., Arisi, B.M. et al. (2023). Brazilian Amazon indigenous territories under deforestation pressure. Sci Rep 13, 5851. https://doi.org/10.1038/s41598-023-32746-7
In 2025, whispers of a new scramble for Africa ripple across the continent. Western corporations, cloaked in the green rhetoric of sustainability, are poised to claim a tenth of Liberia’s land for carbon credits, a modern echo of the colonial land grabs that once stripped nations bare (X: @CSPGross, April 6, 2025). Meanwhile, in Pakistan, floodwaters from 2022’s catastrophic monsoon still haunt communities, a disaster fueled by a warming planet they did little to heat (FairPlanet, 2024). The air grows heavier each year, thick with carbon, inequity, and the unresolved weight of history. The Global South, long exploited for its resources, now bears the brunt of a climate crisis it did not create, while the Global North negotiates solutions from air-conditioned halls. How did we arrive at this precipice, where the descendants of the colonized are left to drown, burn, or barter their lands for the sins of empire? The answer lies in climate colonialism, a legacy of historical injustices that continues to shape the unbalanced power dynamics of today’s climate policies.
Climate colonialism is no mere metaphor; it is a structural reality where the ecological debts of colonial exploitation compound into modern climate burdens. Scholar Farhana Sultana describes it as the “unbearable heaviness” of a world where racial capitalism and environmental degradation intertwine, disproportionately afflicting the Global South (Sultana, 2022). Historically, European powers plundered timber from India, rubber from the Congo, and sugar from the Caribbean to fuel their industrial ascent, leaving behind degraded ecosystems and dependent economies. Today, this legacy manifests in unequal emissions burdens and policy frameworks that favor the powerful. The Global North, responsible for over 50% of cumulative CO2 emissions since 1850, thrives on resilience built from that plunder, while Africa, home to 17% of humanity, accounts for just 3% (Carbon Brief, 2023). Climate colonialism, then, is the continuation of this imbalance, where historical polluters dictate terms and the exploited are left to adapt or perish.
The roots of this crisis stretch back to the colonial era. From the 16th century, empires like Britain and France transformed the Global South into a resource frontier, felling forests and mining soils to power the Industrial Revolution. Carbon Brief’s 2023 analysis reveals a striking shift: when colonial emissions are reassigned, say, Britain’s coal burned with India’s resources, the historical responsibility of the North swells further. This was not just economic theft; it was ecological sabotage. Indigenous systems of land stewardship, from agroforestry in the Amazon to water management in the Sahel, were dismantled, leaving regions ill-equipped for future shocks (Whyte, 2023). The Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change Sixth Assessment Report explicitly ties this colonial legacy to today’s climate vulnerability, noting that underdevelopment amplifies the South’s exposure to droughts, floods, and heatwaves (IPCC, 2022).
The numbers tell a stark tale. The United States and Europe, with their centuries of fossil fuel reliance, built wealth and infrastructure to weather a warming world. Meanwhile, small island nations like Vanuatu, contributing less than 0.1% of global emissions, face erasure by rising seas. In sub-Saharan Africa, prolonged droughts cripple agriculture-dependent communities, while South Asia braces for intensifying monsoons, crises magnified by poverty and inadequate systems, both scars of colonial rule (Hickel et al., 2022). As Kyle Whyte argues, this is “colonial déjà vu,” where Indigenous and Southern peoples endure the fallout of a modernity they were never invited to shape (Whyte, 2023).
Before fossil fuels became the dominant driver of global emissions, deforestation and land-use change, particularly in colonized regions, were the primary sources of carbon dioxide. In 1850, when industrialization was taking root in Europe and North America, 100% of the carbon budget compatible with 1.5°C of warming remained, as illustrated in Carbon Brief’s graph titled “Early CO₂ emissions were driven by deforestation, not fossil fuels.
Annual global CO2 emissions from fossil fuels and cement (dark blue) as well as from land use, land-use change and forestry (red), 1850-2023, billions of tonnes. Source: Carbon Brief analysis of figures from Jones et al (2023), Lamboll et al (2023), the Global Carbon Project, CDIAC, Our World in Data, the International Energy Agency and Carbon Monitor. Chart by Carbon Brief.
This graph shows that early emissions were largely due to land-use changes (in red), including massive deforestation in colonies to make way for plantations, mining, and infrastructure. Fossil fuel emissions (in blue) only overtook land-based emissions post-1950s, when the Global North accelerated its industrial activities. By 1957, only 75% of the 1.5°C budget remained; by 1990, 50%; and by 2022, a mere 10% remained, bringing the world dangerously close to climate tipping points.
Yet, this historical degradation was largely a function of imperial policies, where natural resources in colonized nations were ruthlessly extracted to fuel wealth in colonial capitals. Forests were felled in India and the Congo, oil was siphoned from the Middle East, and coal powered industries in Britain, while the costs, environmental and human, were externalized to the colonies.
Carbon Brief’s groundbreaking analysis revealed how colonial rule artificially inflates the Global North’s historical emissions responsibility. The chart below, “Colonial rule boosts European share of historical emissions,” radically reshapes how we assign carbon accountability.
The top 20 countries for cumulative CO2 emissions from fossil fuels, cement, land use, land use change and forestry, 1850-2023, billion tonnes. CO2 emissions that occurred within each country’s national borders are shown in dark blue, while those that took place overseas during periods of imperial rule are coloured red. Emissions reallocated to former imperial powers are shaded light blue. EU+UK is shown in addition to the relevant individual countries. Source: Carbon Brief analysis of figures from Jones et al (2023), Lamboll et al (2023), the Global Carbon Project, CDIAC, Our World in Data, the International Energy Agency and Carbon Monitor. Chart by Carbon Brief.
When emissions from controlled territories are added to colonial powers, the historical carbon footprints of European nations increase dramatically. For instance:
These recalibrations are not just statistical adjustments but they are moral correctives. They reveal that nations like the UK, France, and the Netherlands benefited from carbon-heavy industrial growth financed by colonial exploitation, while the countries they ruled now suffer disproportionately from climate change.
Today’s climate policies, intended to mend this fractured planet, often deepen these wounds. The Paris Agreement promises global cooperation, but its tools: carbon markets, climate finance, and technology transfers mirror colonial hierarchies. In 2009, rich nations pledged $100 billion annually by 2020 to aid poorer countries, yet by 2025, this remains a broken promise. Much of what trickles through arrives as loans, not grants, shackling debt-ridden nations further— a sleight-of-hand reminiscent of imperial benevolence (Global Justice Now, 2023). X users like @BoutierIndira (April 9, 2025) decry this as “top-down colonial nonsense,” pointing to India and the DRC as examples of sidelined voices in a Northern-led agenda.
Carbon markets, hailed as innovative, often serve as a new frontier for exploitation. Under schemes like the Clean Development Mechanism, Northern firms offset emissions by funding projects in the South projects that can displace communities or seize land for profit. In Cambodia, brick kilns tied to Western supply chains churn out emissions while locals bear the health costs, a pattern Laurie Parsons dubs “carbon colonialism” (Parsons, 2024). Similarly, reforestation efforts in Africa, as @CSPGross notes, threaten sovereignty under the guise of green salvation. Peter Newell warns that such mechanisms let polluters delay decarbonization at home, outsourcing the burden to those least equipped to resist (Newell, 2023).
The marginalization extends to the negotiating table. At climate summits, Global South delegates, hampered by visa issues, funding shortages, or language barriers, struggle to pierce the polished rhetoric of Northern counterparts. Their calls for loss-and-damage funding, a fair carbon budget, or technology access are deferred or diluted (Sultana & Loftus, 2024). This echoes the colonial silencing of local knowledge, a grievance echoed on X by @b_kesselman (April 10, 2025), who asks why African Indigenous practices aren’t prioritized over Western tech fixes.
Yet, the South holds vital answers. Indigenous agroforestry in Brazil or traditional water harvesting in India offer resilience honed over centuries solutions dismissed in favor of Northern patents like carbon capture (Whyte, 2023). The Lancet Planetary Health warns that mainstream mitigation models perpetuate this inequity, preserving Northern lifestyles while offloading costs southward (Hickel et al., 2022). The result is a climate agenda that prioritizes the powerful, leaving millions to face floods like Pakistan’s in 2022, without adequate support (FairPlanet, 2024).
Breaking this cycle demands more than platitudes; it requires reckoning with history. Climate colonialism is not fate but a manufactured inequity, sculpted by centuries of greed and neglect (Greenpeace UK, 2022). To dismantle it, we must deliver on climate finance, grants, not loans with no strings attached, as Global Justice Now (2023) urges. We must amplify Southern voices, ensuring they shape policies rather than merely endure them, a sentiment X users champion fiercely. And we must center local solutions, Indigenous and community-led over imported techno-fixes, as Confronting Climate Coloniality advocates (Sultana & Loftus, 2024).
Material accountability is key. Historical polluters owe a climate debt, reparations through debt cancellation, technology sharing, or direct funding for adaptation and loss-and-damage, as demanded at COP28 and beyond. The Conversation’s Harriet Mercer notes that even leading scientists now link colonialism to climate change, a shift that must translate into action (Mercer, 2022). For the millions in the Global South watching their lands dry, their homes flooded, and their futures slip away, this is not optional, it is survival.
The climate crisis is no blank slate; it is a canvas streaked with the brushstrokes of empire. To ignore this is to settle for half-measures that sustain the powerful while the vulnerable pay. Can climate justice exist without dismantling these colonial legacies? For the sake of Pakistan’s flood survivors, Liberia’s threatened forests, and countless others, the answer must be no. The time for reckoning is now, let us confront the ghosts of climate colonialism and forge a future where equity, not exploitation, defines our path.
References
Nelson Izah is a dynamic youth leadership professional and social impact advocate, pursuing a Geology and Mineral Exploration degree at Kazakh British Technical University. As National Country Coordinator for the Hult Prize in Kazakhstan, he drives entrepreneurial initiatives across universities. With five years of cross-sector leadership experience, Nelson has mobilized youth programs through Voluntary Service Overseas (VSO), STEMi Makers Africa, and the Autism Awareness Foundation. Through DoTheDream Youth Development Initiative, he has empowered over 3,000 students in Lagos state. Currently, he volunteers as a writer for Re-Earth Initiative, focusing on policy and education.
The Local Conference of Youth (LCOY) is the official, UN-endorsed, youth-led and youth-focused conference focused on climate action at a national level. LCOY provides a space and a platform for young people to engage with climate issues, share knowledge, and draft National Youth Statements on Climate (NYS). In contrast, the Regional Conference of Youth (RCOY), also UN-endorsed, brings together youth from multiple countries from a specific region (such as Latin America). This allows for cross-collaboration across borders to address pressing climate issues. Although LCOY has a national focus, while RCOY serves as a bridge between international regions, they both are precursors to the internationally recognized Conference of Youth (COY). Generally speaking, as well, all these conferences act as spaces where youth can engage with leaders and contribute to the climate movement.
The Conference of Youth (COY) is a global gathering of youth activists and leaders held annually before the UN’s Conference of Parties (COP). COY (similar to LCOYs and RCOYs) are organized by YOUNGO, the official youth constituency to the United Nations Framework Convention on Climate Change (UNFCCC). Similar to how the NYSs are drafted at LCOYs, the Global Youth Statement (GYS) is drafted at COY – which is later presented to global leaders at COP. The GYS takes input from all perspectives found in NYSs from around the globe. COY serves as a critical platform for youth to influence international climate negotiations, give recommendations, advocate for climate policies, and ensure their voices are heard.
The GYS is a collective document created by youth at COY to represent the perspectives, demands, and policy recommendations of young people around the world regarding climate action. It serves as a formal declaration of youth priorities and is presented at COP. It aims to influence global climate negotiations and ensure that youth voices are integrated into the decision-making process at the highest level.
LCOY USA is the event that brings together USA based youth climate activists to draft the USA NYS. The NYS is shared with national policy and decision makers to put pressure on the US government to take greater action towards climate justice. This year, there were 3 focus areas for the NYS:
There is a straightforward application process to get involved. The application usually opens by mid-June and concludes after a month. If interested, you need to submit a Google form expressing your interest in attending the conference, climate priorities and previous experience. The form can be found on LCOY USA’s Instagram page or their website.
To apply there are 3 main criteria. You must be…
Finding funding to cover travel and accommodation costs can be challenging. Here are a few options to help you!
At LCOY we had the unique opportunity to collaborate with other youth from diverse backgrounds and learn about environmental justice issues their communities face. The thematic group sessions helped us gain insight into the policy-making process and the value of open dialogue. Through meaningful discussion, we were able to draft a powerful, unified youth statement that demands urgent climate action from US leaders.
Our trip to LCOY was directly related to Re-Earth Initiative's commitment to fostering a global, youth-led climate movement. By attending LCOY USA, we deepened our engagement with national and international climate policy discussions, bringing back insights that will enhance our work. We shared our approach to climate justice, focusing on inclusivity and intersectionality, and engaged in dialogues that align with our values of equity and grassroots empowerment.
LCOY USA 2023 was my first introduction to the global climate policy making space in a negotiating capacity as opposed to a direct action and frontline climate activist capacity. It gave me the opportunity to connect with people who were working within climate spaces in various capacities, whether it was through academia, public art projects, science communication or even through innovation and technology. The experience provided valuable insight into how priorities were discussed and how verbiage was scrupulously considered before adoption in the policy making process. In 2023, the priorities for addressing the climate crisis were resilience, adaptation, and mitigation and in the process we were able to learn about the local and national structures that do exist for climate policies and the ones that don’t and what we could propose within our statement to address these gaps. The goal oriented nature of this conference made it one that was engaging, productive, and also very interactive and participatory. This is an experience that I would encourage for anyone, but especially for those who are interested in getting more involved in the international climate negotiation process.
I had the privilege of spending three days in Washington, D.C., with incredibly bright and resolute youth at LCOY USA 2023. Together, we shared stories from our local communities, exchanged strategies for building collective action, and redistributed knowledge while drafting the USA National Youth Statement 2023. Although it was my first climate conference, being in a space with other dedicated organizers, policymakers, and climate leaders made me feel seen and united in our mission to represent the needs of U.S. youth on the international climate stage. The highlight of my time at LCOY was hearing Sophia Powless share her story as an Indigenous woman and member of the Onondaga Nation, fighting for clean water in her community and advocating for climate justice internationally. Creating new paradigms to scale equitable climate solutions requires reciprocity, collaboration, and trust. I am thankful for the chance to bring the voices of my communities with me to D.C. and return home with new knowledge, tools, friendships, and hope.
This was my first time attending a climate conference as a delegate and being able to engage in the discussions. I have previously only been involved in the logistical side of organising events. This was a great learning opportunity as I gained insight into the process of policy-making that requires open dialogue, patience and collaboration. Most importantly, I got to work with other youth climate advocates from diverse backgrounds to draft a powerful, unified youth statement that demands urgent climate action. I would strongly recommend this opportunity to all youth climate advocates interested in shaping climate policy.
LCOY USA 2024 was my first time participating in an event pertaining to climate negotiations. This was a very new field to me, especially because my educational background is in engineering, not policy. Even though this was new to me, and not new to others, I felt supported and heard throughout the entire weekend. I got to meet new like minded people, hear new perspectives, and learn more about the climate movement around the USA. I found that it was run very effectively, and we all got the opportunity to share our thoughts. Even when there were disagreements, they were very cordial and respectful. This was a very valuable experience for me, as I got to dip my toes into a new perspective on climate action that I had not experienced prior. I highly recommend this opportunity to all youth activists around the globe!
