Politics of Exclusion: COP30 and the Theatre of Climate Justice

As a climate and social justice researcher from the Global North, and an intended COP observer as a member of the Academic and Research caucus, I write this with full recognition of my privilege. I benefit from institutional support, linguistic access, and proximity to the centers of climate diplomacy. And yet, I find myself potentially excluded from attending COP30 this year. If I am prohibited from attending by cost, what does that mean for grassroots organizers, Indigenous leaders, youth activists, and scholars from the Global South?

Brazil’s decision to host COP30 in Belém is framed as a symbolic gesture: a summit in the heart of the Amazon, where delegates can be witness to the urgency of climate change firsthand. But this gesture is pure climate theatre. The Amazon is being cleared, paved, and commodified to make way for a summit that claims to protect it. The lived experience they promise is inaccessible to most. Worse yet, those who live in Belém are being marginalized and victimized; landlords are terminating leases and evicting tenants in order to make their properties available as COP accommodations, leaving many without homes. What good is symbolism when the people most affected by climate change are priced out of involvement?

The reality is stark:

• Accommodation costs are exorbitant. Cruise ship cabins, marketed as the solution to Belém's accommodation challenges, were quoted to me at 1,200€ to 1,500€ per night, a price point that excludes most civil society participants, including academics. The lowest-tier options are already sold out or unavailable, leaving only unnecessarily luxurious and unreasonably expensive cabins for most attendees.

• While it is understandable and just that the lowest priced accommodations should be left available to attendees from the Global South, there is a false assumption that all observers from the Global North can afford luxury pricing. This erases the economic diversity within civil society and academia, and ignores the reality that many of us operate on limited institutional support or personal funds.

• Attendees are required to book and pay for the entire 17-night period (November 5–22), with no partial stay options. This is wildly unrealistic for civil society participants, who typically attend for 5–10 days. This creates insurmountable barriers for those who were hoping to cut costs by attending only part of the conference.

• Countries were asked to reduce the size of their delegations and civil society is being pushed to the margins, leading some to believe that this COP may become one of the least inclusive, most embarrassing COPs in recent history.

• Infrastructure is failing: Belém suffers from outdated plumbing, unreliable running water, and one of the worst sewage treatment systems in the region. Untreated waste flows into city channels, and sanitation projects are stalled or mismanaged.

• Airport expansion is chaotic, with exposed ceilings, misaligned panels, and passengers dodging construction.

The last three COPs were hosted by oil-rich nations: Egypt, the United Arab Emirates, and Azerbaijan. Each summit saw a record-breaking presence of fossil fuel lobbyists, often outnumbering delegates from the least developed countries. At COP28 alone, over 2,400 fossil fuel lobbyists were granted access. These summits restricted civil society participation while amplifying voices steeped in neoliberalism and meant to delay meaningful climate action.

Now, for the first time in years, COP30 is being hosted by a country known for its environmental and climate history. Brazil is home to Indigenous resistance, ecological research, and frontline climate activism. And yet, only oil-rich delegates can afford to attend. The irony is staggering: the summit finally returns to a place of environmental significance, but the barriers to access continue to advantage the wealthiest potential planetary destructors.

Brazil’s latest letter to national delegations includes a plea to prioritize marginalized groups, the same groups that they have made unable to attend: women, Indigenous communities, and youth. This plea is clearly performative; the very actions taken by the host country exclude these groups. The UNFCCC’s failure to enforce deadlines or demand accountability from Brazil makes it complicit in this exclusion.

We are witnessing the performance of climate justice, not its practice. COP30 is shaping up to be a summit for the elite, a negotiation where only the wealthy can afford to speak. This is the myth of accessibility: the illusion that civil society is welcome, while barriers are raised at every turn. The UNFCCC must confront this hypocrisy, enforce its standards, and ensure that COP30 does not become a monument to exclusion, inequity, and ecological harm.