You’ve undoubtedly come across pictures of climate conferences in the media, with tired delegates sitting in rows in convention centers. They talk endlessly before and after lunch, pre- and post-coffee, one meeting after another, discussing the end of the world. All this talking should ideally result in implementable strategic plans to slow down climate change, which, unfortunately, seems to have progressed from a brisk walk to a full gallop.

“We are right at the edge,” a beard in a striped suit might boldly proclaim, while another in tan brogues might try to sound grim with a “We need this for our children.” Titles such as The World Is Running Out of Time (again!) will be written by reporters trying to find unique bylines in a trite and over-publicized news item. On the third day, everyone will be buzzing around the venue with purpose and intention, but whether it’s for the cookies or the manatees, it’ll be hard to tell. By the fifth day, a few of them will already find it difficult to pretend they care. Suitcases will be packed back up, a kitschy fridge magnet or two will be bought and the whole party will be zipping in cars back to the airport across the newly minted road. The road built by razing a few trees through the Amazon rainforest.

With clichéd plot lines and jaded attitudes, the climate conference circuit has evolved into a world tour of sorts. Rolling one’s eyes at the entire jaded event seems to be the easiest thing to do. The hashtags, the jet fuel, the jargon, and the photo opportunities with saplings that are likely to perish before the closing remarks are even completed, everything together feels like a Kafkaesque play overseen in its every detail by highly trained and well-paid public relations companies.

If the spotlights and the hashtags are taken away, what remains is the troubling truth that no one seems to be on the same page. Global cooperation on climate action remains fragmented and inconsistent, with climate conferences often resembling more talk than action. These conferences function somewhat like those uncomfortable family get-togethers. Everyone talks over one another and nobody really wants to be there, but then the more powerful instinct of FOMO always wins. The shame of being seen as doing nothing does prod some countries into taking actual decisions.

An example is the Paris Agreement of 2015. It was that rare occasion when almost all countries across the world decided to take action. They all came together to stop the planet from gradually burning down like a toasty marshmallow. To be honest, it did have the biting power of a well-meaning goldfish. But what happened next was amazing.

Countries began to make real plans. Plans which had a real, measurable impact on reducing our carbon footprint. China established the largest carbon market in the world. The European Union started to tighten its emission targets and the United States invested billions in research on renewable energy, despite its sporadic withdrawals, re-entry and exit.

Even though they can’t save the world with just a few meetings, diplomats do sow the seeds of policies that, with a trickle of political humiliation, can sometimes sprout. Progress is of course slow, and the frustrating paradox of diplomacy is that it is a mix of both hope and hypocrisy. But then, even though every conference may not be a game-changer, sometimes a policy idea does come up. And sometimes, in the middle of the reheated coffee cups and lukewarm croissants, those policies shape themselves into agreements.

So even though your first reflex might be to droop your shoulders, lift your chin and sigh when you see a photo of world leaders smiling while holding a banner that says, “Together for Our Planet,” do try to hold onto a little bit of faith. The wheels of climate action do turn. Slowly, very slowly, but they do turn. At least that’s the hope for the next big climate conference, happening in Brazil from the 10th to the 21st of November 2025.

The United Nations Climate Change Conference, or Conference of the Parties, also known as COP30, will be the 30th United Nations Climate Change Conference. It will be held in Belém, Brazil, where one of the most important ecosystems in the world, the Amazon rainforest, is partly located.

This year’s conference is significant because it marks an important midway point until 2030, when nations are supposed to fulfill their climate commitments under the Paris Agreement, with 2025 being marked as the year when countries will have to submit more structured Nationally Determined Contributions or NDCs. Thus, COP30 is more of a reality check on whether the world still remembers what it committed to.

What happens in Belém will not only influence future climate policies, it will also determine whether the promises made in the Paris Agreement were the beginning of something genuine or a part of just another well-crafted public relations event.