At the moment our society is very short-term oriented. Our economy focuses on short-term economic growth, materialism, and promotes overconsumption. Our media focuses on the breaking news of today, but often leaves out long-term trends. Our politicians are influenced by lobbyists, election campaigns and their four-year election cycle. And even our brains are programmed to focus on the short-term.

This short-term thinking has disastrous consequences for how we shape our society. It impacts our natural environment, and through that the living environment we pass on to future generations. We engage in large scale destructive activities, such as destroying and polluting habitats and causing the extinction of animal species. With chemicals and plastics we pollute the water, soil, plants and animals that we and future generations depend on, for example for food and drinking water. On many places nature is exhausted and in need of regeneration. And like humans of future generations, non-human nature does not have a voice in the political decision-making that shapes its future.

What if we could give future generations a voice? And what if they were genuinely heard? For example, we could lower the voting age to let young people vote for their future. Or we could establish a parliamentary committee, ministry, commissioner or ombudsperson that will represent the interests and needs of future generations—locally and nationally, in every chamber or council where decisions are being made. How could they incorporate the needs and interests of all?

And what if we change our political, economic and legal institutions a bit, in a way that will prevent them from making choices with small short-term benefits and large long-term costs? Maybe the Senate or Upper House—or a new ‘Future House’—could veto plans that would be disastrous for the future? Or we could expect political parties to regularly report on the long-term impact of their party program?

Which examples and actions could we (symbolically) adopt? What would your country look like if it had an open and inclusive procedure to make political decisions, in which the interests of future generations are explicitly considered and prioritised? We will discuss some examples.

The Children’s Fire

The Children’s Fire is an Indigenous tradition, where a symbol—a fire, a candle, or a flower arrangement—is placed in the middle of a decision-making space to symbolically represent future generations. Through this, all actions, decisions and thoughts are at the service of the wellbeing of children and future generations of all species in nature, till seven generations into the future. Is the proposal also in the interest of future generations? Then it’s adopted. Is it (also) detrimental to future generations? Then we won’t do it.

Citizens’ assemblies

What if everyday citizens—free of the short-term pressures of elections, media or making profit—would have a bigger voice in matters that influence the wellbeing of future generations? Citizens’ assemblies are multi-day gatherings where ordinary citizens learn about societal problems, deliberate the issue, and form recommendations for policy-making. The group of citizens is picked through lottery, and proportionally reflects the citizens in their constituency. So not politicians who want to win your vote, or scientists who sometimes forget everyday reality, but fellow citizens engage in open, independent and informed conversations. And because these citizens from diverse backgrounds learn about their topic together, and deliberate on the pros and cons, citizens’ assemblies often end in mutual understanding and widely supported proposals for change.

In the Netherlands there are plans for a citizens’ assembly about the future of agriculture in the country, and other places like Scotland and France have already organised successful assemblies on climate change. Or maybe instead of organising one-off and ad hoc assemblies, we could also integrate continues citizens’ assemblies in our political system, such as in East-Belgium.

Ombudspersons for Future Generations

What would it be like if we had local representatives who represent the interests of our and future generations? No weekly meetings about the future, but a representation and dedication for the children of tomorrow. An Ombudsperson or Municipal Commissioner for Future Generations can actively work on policies, regulations and legislation that translate the interests of our great-grandchildren into our actions; in the here and now.

The annual Day of the Future

What if, once a year, we completely focus on the future? For a full day, we truly prioritise the wellbeing of current and future generations? This day, leaders of political parties could publish a rapport on how their party program will positively or negatively influence—the climate, living environment, wellbeing, society and opportunities of—children and future generations. Media could focus the nation’s attention to how we can build a better future together. Schools could help their students think about the future that they want, and how they can influence their future, for example with the Toolkit for Future Thinking. And an annual speech of the nation’s royalty or ombudsperson for future generations will inspire the nation with a vision about building the best possible future.

Lab Toekomstige Generaties (‘Lab Future Generations’) is a collaboration of professionals in the Netherlands, which includes the Dutch Observing Ombudsperson for Future Generations. Their mission is to ensure that in 2050 future generations are considered in all important decisions in the Netherlands, and the world.

Nicky van Dijk is PhD-candidate at the law faculty of the University of Tasmania. Her research focuses on why and how we should consider the interests of young people and future generations in our legal and political institutions.

This article was originally published in Dutch on the website of Lab Toekomstige Generaties under the title ‘Hoe zou werkelijke representative van toekomstige generaties eruit zien?’, on 23 November 2021.

On Tuesday 16 October the Climate Justice Network, sponsored by the law faculty of the University of Tasmania, organised a public forum about Giving Future Generations a Voice.

You can find the recording of this night below. We apologise for the bad resolution, but hope you can nevertheless enjoy the recording as a podcast.

The night was moderated by former Tasmanian Anti-Discrimination Commissioner Robin Banks, and the panel included:

Prof Jonathan Boston (Victoria University of Wellington, NZ)
Associate Prof Bridget Lewis (School of Law, QUT)
Dr Peter Lawrence, (Senior Lecturer, UTAS Faculty of Law )
Jan Linehan (Adjunct Researcher, UTAS Faculty of Law)
Dr Phillipa McCormack (post-doctoral researcher Adelaide Law School, Adjunct Lecturer UTAS Faculty of Law)
Nicky van Dijk (PhD-candidate, UTAS Faculty of Law)
Cleo Hansen-Lohrey (PhD-candidate, UTAS Faculty of Law)

Fossil fuel subsidies should be prohibited and phased out globally. They encourage, rather than deter, the extraction and consumption of fossil fuels, and in doing so set the world back in efforts to address the climate crisis, including through the achievement of the Paris Agreement’s goal to limit global warming to 2°C, and as close to 1.5°C as possible.

Yet the Australian Government, amongst others, continues propping up the coal, oil and gas sectors with public money. The Prime Minister has spoken of a ‘gas-fired recovery’ from the economic hit of the COVID-19 pandemic, a frightening concept following the 2019-2020 Australian bushfire season. To deal with one crisis by exacerbating another is of course not a sensible way to ‘recover’. 

And gas is just one fossil fuel the Government seems determined to support financially. Set to be Australia’s largest mine, the Carmichael Coalmine is being developed in Central Queensland by Bravus Mining and Resources (Bravus), formerly Adani. The Queensland Government has granted the mine a seven-year ‘royalty holiday’, which means postponing the payment of royalty fees for coal sold from the Carmichael Coalmine.

Internationally, subsidies are regulated by the World Trade Organisation’s (WTO) Agreement on Subsidies and Countervailing Measures (ASCM). The ASCM specifically prohibits certain subsidies and classifies other subsidies as ‘actionable’ if they cause adverse effects to other WTO Members.

Is the royalty holiday a subsidy?

For the purposes of the ASCM, a subsidy is deemed to exist if there is a financial contribution by a government or public body and a benefit is thereby conferred. The agreement between Bravus and the Queensland government is that the royalties will be deferred and eventually repayable with interest, which constitutes a loan. While the royalty holiday is not an explicit ‘transfer’ of funds, similar measures including tax concessions and the modification of a loan through debt forgiveness have been held to constitute a direct transfer of funds by the WTO in the past, fitting within its definition of a ‘financial contribution’. Moreover,the annual interest rate of 2-3% is more favourable than any commercial loan available to other Queensland industries or to Queenslanders themselves, meaning the loan confers a benefit to Bravus.

It the royalty holiday prohibited by the WTO?

The ASCM prohibits certain subsidies, including those contingent in law or fact on export performance.

The negotiations of the royalty holiday at issue were shrouded in secrecy, and there has been no disclosure of the loan’s value, size, the length of repayment, or the type of security. We cannot know whether its granting was contingent in law on export performance.

But a subsidy is de facto export contingent when its granting is ‘geared’ to promote the recipient’s ‘future export performance’. Factors that can indicate export contingency include the country’s awareness that their domestic economy is unable to absorb the subsidized product’s production, the recipient’s export orientation, and the scale of exports, amongst other things.

The ASCM is clear that a WTO Member, which Australia is, shall neither grant nor maintain subsidies contingent, in law or in fact, upon export performance.

We know that coal production for domestic consumption, especially on the scale proposed by Bravus, is unnecessary. Demand is met by current production levels, and renewables continue to decrease domestic demand for coal. The Australian economy is unable to absorb the Carmichael Coalmine’s coal. Bravus is clearly export orientated, making well known its intention to export coal primarily to India. And the scale is vast: the Carmichael Coalmine will produce over 2.3 billion tonnes of coal over its 60-year lifespan.

Based on these factors, it seems the royalty holiday is indeed de facto export contingent, and hence prohibited by the WTO’s ASCM.

What next?

Despite the vast scale of fossil fuel subsidies globally, no disputes have been brought before the WTO challenging them under the ASCM. They seem to be tolerated despite being at odds with the WTO’s core values of open markets and trade liberalization, as well as its commitment to sustainable development.

In theory, any WTO member that has reason to believe that a prohibited subsidy is being granted or maintained by another member may refer the matter to the Dispute Settlement Body. This Body will establish a panel to determine whether the measure in question is a prohibited subsidy, and will recommend the subsidy be removed if it is found to be prohibited.

However, the lack of transparency in subsidy reporting in accordance with ACSM requirements may prevent members from taking action on, or negotiating an end to subsidies. The strongest hope for action lies in non-government organisations, notifying Bravus royalty holiday to the WTO Secretariat’s Trade Policy Review Body. This body regularly reports on the trade policies of WTO members, which can shame members into compliance with WTO law, and encourage others to take action through the WTO’s dispute settlement system.

Andonny Papastamatis is a final year Bachelor of Arts and Bachelor of Laws student at the University of Tasmania

Camilla More is a researcher and Australian-qualified lawyer, specialising in international climate law and policy. She holds a Bachelor of Science and Bachelor of Laws with Honours from the University of Tasmania. 

Climate change litigation - both national and international - is increasingly being used to highlight the interests of young people and future generations. Theories of intergenerational justice and theories of representation developed by political philosophers provide a treasure trove of concepts which can be used to develop innovative legal arguments in this area.

Given climate change is already impacting current generations, what does a perspective emphasising impacts on future generations add?  Highlighting the longer term impacts of climate change on future generations can help emphasise the gravity of these impacts given human beings dependence on global ecological systems.

But international law - and most systems of national law - limit claims for damage to those who have already suffered harm, placing considerable obstacles to those making climate change related claims on behalf of future generations.

The concept of proxy representation offers a way forward here. Proxy representation involves representation of persons unable to articulate their own interests. Legal systems are replete with examples of proxy representation which include at the national level, guardianship arrangements for the disabled, and at the international level the possibility for example of bringing human rights claims under the European Convention on Human Rights article 33 where the person whose rights are being infringed is not a national of the claimant state.  Expansion of such claims to allow NGOs to make claims on behalf of future generations is therefore only an incremental, rather than radical step.  

International tribunals are constrained by their mandates, and must be careful not to risk their legitimacy; ultimately they rely on the consent of states. Nevertheless, international tribunal such as the International Court of Justice (ICJ) don’t just apply international law in a mechanical way.  Where the law is unclear, this court - and others -  must make decisions -  either implicitly or explicitly based on values.

Where this occurs, such tribunals ought to apply justice.  Justice is open to different interpretations, but Steve Ratner and others have convincingly argued that as a minimum this should involve the promotion of core human rights.  An attraction of this approach is that there is undeniably at least formal agreement at the international level in support of human rights. 

A logical corollary of this that such core human rights should be enjoyed by all persons regardless of when and where they live. Thus tribunals ought to promote intergenerational justice as part and parcel of their promotion of justice between individuals and states in the contemporary world.

The normative framework sketched here can be injected into practical legal arguments. Possibilities include the ICJ clarifying that the no harm principle applies also to harm to future generations. Daniel Bodansky has made such a suggestion, and indeed over the recent time, a campaign has emerged to press for a UN General Assembly Resolution which would request an advisory opinion from the ICJ on the question of whether the failure to address climate change by states violates their obligations to future generations.

Further creative possibilities involve injecting the normative framework sketched above into a claim within the Inter-American human rights system. The Inter-American Court of Human Rights has proclaimed the right to a healthy environment and stated that this right extends to future generations. The normative framework sketched here could bolster arguments brought under this system pressing for states to take stronger action on climate change.

This blog piece arises out of a collaborative project with Matthias Hartwig and Lukas Kohler made possible with generous funding from the Australia-Germany research fund.  

See Peter’s video presentation:

https://mediaspace.pace.edu/media/1_rpw4jiow?fbclid=IwAR3TOZnlqJiww0Be25hvXqgaNYRA8RfJB8Y0-9d1PD6UckIu6Dz7KN78g6Y

Last week, a group of young Queenslanders – via an organisation called “Youth Verdict” – announced that they are challenging Clive Palmer’s Galilee Coal Project development by lodging objections in Queensland’s Land Court.

The challenge relies on Queensland’s nascent Human Rights Act 2019 and thus represents the first time in an Australian court that a human rights claim has been raised in the context of climate change and fossil fuel development. A summary of the legal and factual basis of the challenge prepared by the Environmental Defenders Office (the lawyers representing Youth Verdict) is available here, and an academic discussion of the potential applicability of Queensland’s Human Rights Act to challenges to coal developments in Queensland can be found here.

This is an exciting test case of the applicability of the Human Rights Act’s protection of the right to life (among other rights) to new fossil fuel developments that will contribute to climate change. The challenge also reflects a continuation of the so-called “rights turn” in global climate change litigation. The stories of the young people represented by Youth Verdict have been front-and-center in the challenge’s early media coverage, suggesting a strategic convergence between climate litigants and the broader, youth-dominated Australian climate movement. And the use of the #youthvcoal hashtag to promote the challenge on social media further indicates a desire to connect the challenge to other youth-focused climate lawsuits globally (e.g. #youthvgov and #youthvcan).

It will be very interesting to see to what extent Youth Verdict appeals to, and to what extent the Land Court adopts, foreign and international jurisprudence on human rights and climate change. Thanks to a series of recent statements from various UN bodies, it is increasingly beyond question that – from the standpoint of international law – greenhouse gas emissions contributing to climate change violate human rights, and governments therefore must reduce emissions to protect human rights. The Urgenda judgment in early-January, which was based in-part on Article 2 of the European Convention on Human Rights’ protection of the right to life, provides a further precedent on which the Land Court potentially could base its reasoning. It is difficult to imagine the Land Court diverging greatly from this body of jurisprudence, let alone rejecting it wholesale.

However, it is not beyond the realm of possibility that the Land Court may find other ways to reject or avoid considering Youth Verdict’s challenge. One reason – foreshadowed by Bell-James and Collins – would be if the market substitution argument (i.e., that if coal is not sourced from this mine it necessarily will be sourced from elsewhere) were accepted, and thereby undermined Youth Verdict’s claim of a causal link between approving new coal developments and human rights impacts from climate change. Given that the proceedings before the Land Court are a merits review, and given recent judgments like Gloucester Resources, such an outcome would run against trends in other Australian jurisdictions.

A further reason for rejecting the challenge could be on justiciability grounds. This too would be somewhat puzzling. Refusing consideration of the human rights impacts from the greenhouse gas emission of new coal developments, in circumstances where Queensland’s parliament has explicitly empowered the Land Court to consider human rights, and where other courts have affirmed that human rights are inextricably linked with climate change, would be emblematic of what Kysar and Ewing have called a “duck and weave” approach to adjudicating climate change. While those authors were referring to tort claims, their cautioning against “a jurisdictional self-limitation that unnecessarily impedes the ability” of the judiciary “to continue to evolve with changed circumstances and to remain open for the airing of future grievances” arguably applies with even greater force where a statutory claim is concerned. On the other hand, a full and thorough consideration by the Land Court of Youth Verdict’s claims – whatever the ultimate result – would mark the first time an Australian court had considered the merits of human rights arguments in a climate change context, and would contribute greatly to the ongoing maturation of climate change litigation in Australia.

Danny Noonan is a climate change advocate, scholar, and Australian-qualified lawyer. He is a co-founder and board member of Breach, a newly-established organisation that partners with frontline communities to advance climate justice through legal advocacy, grassroots organizing, and strategic communications.

COVID-19 has had profound impacts locally and globally. It has prompted unprecedented policy responses around the world. And further major geopolitical, economic and social impacts seem likely. But the overall consequences of public health emergencies, even pandemics, are modest compared to the threats humanity faces from the ongoing failure to live within safe planetary boundaries. 

Consider briefly how COVID-19 and climate change compare. The former poses an immediate threat; it demands mostly short-term policy responses. Climate change, by comparison, will generate significant and ongoing threats across multiple generations. Reducing these threats requires immediate, but also sustained, policy responses. Yet even if greenhouse gas emissions are cut drastically over coming decades, humanity will have no choice but to adapt to the many damaging impacts of climate change. And adaptation will need to continue for hundreds of years. This is a terrible prospect.

To be sure, COVID-19 can kill many people. But the death toll from climate change will be much greater. More importantly, it undermines the capacity to preserve life – both human and non-human. 

COVID-19 can be suppressed, if not eliminated, presuming an effective vaccine can be found. But no vaccine can help humanity mitigate or adapt to climate change; nor is there a ready cure for policy inaction and government failure. 

In short, COVID-19 and climate change differ in significant ways. Yet they also have notable similarities. These, in turn, have major implications for public policy.

First, both COVID-19 and climate change are powerful societal disruptors; they generate non-linear changes and non-incremental shocks; and they are risk multipliers. From a policy perspective, they serve as powerful ‘focussing events’ and ‘critical junctures’. While posing huge political risks, they also create remarkable opportunities for policy reform.

Second, they are both fundamentally science-based problems. In each case effective technical solutions and sensible policy responses depend upon reliable scientific evidence from multiple disciplines. Hence, both highlight the critical role of public investment in research, monitoring, and reporting – and, equally, the need for governmental transparency, openness and honesty. Similarly, both require technological innovations. But their implementation depends upon robust public services and infrastructure – whether educational, digital or physical.

Third, COVID-19 and climate change highlight the importance of governmental preparedness and precautionary interventions. Delays are costly – indeed tragic. Accordingly, effective responses need robust long-term thinking and sound anticipatory governance. The latter includes the capacity to identify weak signals early, assess risks, develop risk management strategies, implement pro-active measures, and build societal resilience. More specifically, both phenomenaillustrate the critical role of governments in protecting biosecurity, biosafety and public health. This, in turn, depends on robust systems and processes, but also wise leadership.

Fourth, both problems are quintessentially global. They underscore humanity’s utter interdependence – economically and socially. For effective responses international cooperation and solidarity are pivotal. Yet, equally, both problems highlight the weaknesses and limitations of our current international institutions, and the capacity of the major powers, especially China and the United States, to thwart global solutions. In so doing, they reveal the fragility and vulnerability of our digital civilization, and the poverty of global leadership.

In the quest for effective policy measures to mitigate climate change, the COVID-19 pandemic offers two hopeful lessons. First, with sufficient political will, extraordinary policy interventions are possible. Second, rapid and widespread behavioural change is achievable if there are compelling reasons, coupled with bold leadership and consistent political messaging. 

Against this, troubling lessons are also apparent. The pandemic suggests that effective policy responses to climate change will not be implemented until humanity faces sufficiently compelling and urgent threats (e.g. the immediate risk of mass fatalities or large-scale property losses). Recent events also show how easily urgent issues can divert political attention from major long-term issues, narrow the mental bandwidths of decision-makers, and shift the focus of the entire global community. 

Regrettably, COVID-19 offers little hope of a near-term embrace, whether locally or globally, of the policies urgently needed for an environmentally sustainable future. If this conclusion is valid, then the intergenerational implications are truly sobering.

Jonathan Boston is Professor of Public Policy at the Wellington School of Business and Government at the Victoria University of Wellington in New Zealand

Part One of this post summarised the global developments in climate litigation and the climate justice and liability movements since 2018. Part Two turns its focus to developments in Australia, which has had second-most climate cases globally (more than 90 according to the Sabin Center for Climate Change Law). In continuing to recognise that climate change litigation is situated within and a conscious strategic choice of social movements, this Part first considers developments in the Australian climate movement before focusing on litigation.

The two major trends in the global climate movement discussed in Part One are mirrored in Australia. The degree of public outcry––first as part of the globally-coordinated Friday climate strikes and then in the protests responding to the inadequacy of the government response to the summer 2019-2020 bushfires––is arguably unprecedented in the recent history of Australian environmentalism. Indeed, to describe these protests in terms of “environmentalism” seems somewhat antiquated. Reflecting the “rights-turn” in climate litigation, the public discourse around the bushfires increasingly has focused on its human dimensions rather than its ecological dimensions (to the extent that these can be treated as separate concepts, and not to discount the incredible ecological damage wrought by the fires). The momentum and public pressure created by these protest waves has been smothered in recent months––first by the torrential rains that both extinguished the fires and compounded their ecological impact, and then by coronavirus-mandated social distancing that prevents mass protest (although climate activists are innovating here, too)––but is poised to re-emerge post-pandemic and in the wake of future climate disasters. A nascent green new deal discourse is also taking hold in Australia, advanced at the parliamentary level by new Greens leader Adam Bandt and at the grassroots by groups such as the Climate Justice Collective.

Australia, too, is seeing several major developments in the climate litigation landscape. To begin with, I was perhaps too dismissive of the ongoing potential of conventional administrative litigation. The Rocky Hill case is a landmark judgment, and a stroke of strategic genius insofar as it arose out of a targeted community intervention in a merits hearing, in circumstances where the original decision-maker had recommended denying the environmental approval. But even this significant victory has its caveats. Despite influencing a number of successive judgments and administrative decisions, the precedent set in the Rocky Hill Case regrettably has not been any less vulnerable to the same kind of political intervention and legislative override at the behest of the fossil fuel industry that plagued earlier legal victories in Australia. Additionally, I would argue that, to the extent that the success of the Rocky Hill litigation has resonated with the public more profoundly than previous legal actions, this is arguably because the central legal argument in the case does not concern more esoteric environmental considerations or matters of administrative procedure, but instead echoes the “keep it in the ground” discourse contained within the broader movement. 

The potential for ongoing political meddling notwithstanding, an approach focusing on the destructive climate impact of Australia’s fossil fuel exports is perhaps indicative of the direction that conventional administrative climate change litigation will take in Australia. In my opinion, this is a welcome development. Australia’s greatest contribution to the global issue of climate change arguably is not in reducing its in-boundary emissions (although it is of course important that Australia be an early mover on mitigation, energy system transformation and renewable energy development, and shift to being a constructive and non-obstructionist actor in international negotiations) but in keeping its vast coal and gas reserves undeveloped.

Beyond the Rocky Hill Litigation, we are also seeing new approaches being developed and tested in Australia. A clear example of this is the McVeigh litigation testing the duties of Superannuation fund managers to consider climate-related risks to their investment portfolio. This case is slated for trial later this year. Another example is the petition to the UN Human Rights Committee on behalf of Torres Strait Islander representatives. Although the outcome of the petition process is not enforceable domestically, it is an important legal forum to assess the human rights implications of Australia’s conduct on climate change. A strong outcome from the Human Rights Committee may have positive political ramifications, and pave the way for future novel legal approaches under State-level human rights charters or a future Commonwealth charter of rights.

One further development worth mentioning briefly is the decision of each of the formerly state-based environmental defenders offices (EDOs) in Australia to merge into a single national organisation. It remains to be seen what kind of impact this will have in terms of promoting novel litigation approaches. It might be thought that such a move would further homogenise the sector and thereby limit the potential for pioneering litigators to emerge. However, to the extent that this merger allows a national EDO to attract more funding and apply its resources to key fossil fuel struggles without geographic limitation, this could allow the sector-leading EDO to overcome its previous resource constraints and increase the potential for more impactful litigation. That one of the first cases filed by the new EDO seeks to compel the NSW Environmental Protection Authority to regulate greenhouse gas emissions (an argument paralleling Massachusetts v. EPA), and puts the impacts to and stories of its clients front-and-centre, is cause for optimism.

Conclusion

Both globally and in Australia, the climate justice and liability movement has exploded in the last 24 months, and is as strong and vibrant as ever. In particular, we are seeing increasing synergies between the demands of climate change litigation and the broader movement. Many of these trends are catching on in Australia to greater and lesser extents. Nevertheless, we are still yet to see litigation in Australia that has the scope, ambition, framing and transformative potential of an Urgenda or Juliana. The trends covered in this post do suggest, however, that such a breakthrough may be near and that, as the culture outside the courtroom shifts, its prospects and strategic potential are greater now than at any point previously. Furthermore, if and when the climate movement succeeds in achieving its demands ––a rapid economic transformation and deep emission reduction at a scale proportionate to the scientific urgency of the climate crisis, while simultaneously creating jobs and revitalising the welfare state––the work of the legal community may then be needed to ensure that these policies and programs are not undermined by challenges from the fossil fuel industry, and are properly implemented and enforced.

Danny Noonan is a climate change advocate, scholar, and Australian-qualified lawyer. He is a co-founder and board member of Breach, a newly-established organisation that partners with frontline communities to advance climate justice through legal advocacy, grassroots organizing, and strategic communications.

I had the privilege of presenting at the Imagining a Different Future Conference in 2018. My presentation later developed into an article in the special edition of the University of Tasmania Law Review. Drawing on the insights of the social movement literature, the presentation and article argued that (1) tried-and-tested approaches to climate change litigation may be reaching the limits of their strategic usefulness, and (2) as the Australian domestic climate movement seeks new avenues and levers for change we are likely to see both more innovative litigation and a greater convergence between litigation and broader climate advocacy.

It is worth revisiting this argument in the light of developments in climate change litigation and in the broader climate justice and liability movement that have occurred in the ensuing two years––––both globally and in Australia. Part One of this post looks at the global picture: what are the trends that are emerging, and do they reflect a fundamental change in the litigation landscape?

First, there seems to be no slowing of the number of new climate cases being filed, nor in innovation in the climate change litigation sector. In particular, we continue to see increasing numbers of rights-based cases being filed. No fewer than fourseparate lawsuits have been filed in Canada on behalf of young people or indigenous groups alleging that their provincial or federal government's’ actions with respect to climate change have violated their rights under the Canadian Charter of Rights and Freedoms (through my work at Our Children’s Trust I was involved in supporting one of these lawsuits: the La Rose et al. v. Her Majesty The Queen litigation in the Federal Court of Canada). In addition to Canada, new legal actions on behalf of youth have been filed in Peru and South Korea, and before the UN Committee on the Rights of the Child. Tort-based lawsuits against fossil fuel companies continue apace in the United States, with some early jurisdictional victories (and several high-profile losses) under their belts. Additionally, innovative challenges to fossil fuel companies founded in environment, corporate and/or financial laws are being filed in Europe and elsewhere.

Second, these new approaches have experienced, at best, mixed success. The high-water mark for this wave of litigation, of course, is the Urgenda case. The 2018 judgment by the Hague Court of Appeal was even more resounding than the original judgment of the Hague District Court, insofar as it found that the plaintiffs’ also had a successful claim under the European Convention on Human Rights (ECHR). This was followed by the comprehensive December 2019 decision from the Supreme Court of the Netherlands, which in upholding the plaintiff’s claims laid down a legal roadmap that courts can apply throughout the ECHR system, the civil law world and potentially more broadly. Successes have also been achieved in innovative administrative cases and in the use of the “climate necessity defence.” It would be remiss of me not to mention that a steadily-growing body of jurisprudence from UN Treaty Bodies, the UN Special Rapporteur on Human Rights and the Environment, and the Philippines Human Rights Commission have affirmed, as a matter of international law, the link between climate change and human rights. 

However, new approaches are also facing significant setbacks. The Juliana case suffered a major setback in early 2020 when the U.S. Ninth Circuit Court of Appeals ruled to dismiss the case (note: I also was formerly part of the legal team supporting the Juliana case). Although the reason for the Ninth Circuit’s dismissal was relatively narrow, there was a blistering dissenting judgment, and the plaintiffs have further avenues for appeal, the case’s future is at best uncertain and a full resolution still could be years away. A high-profile prosecution of Exxon-Mobil by New York State also stumbled at the first hurdle.  However, that some novel litigation approaches have not found traction in the same way as others should not be surprising; the prospects of all new legal theories are, to a greater or lesser extent, initially speculative. Indeed, what would be surprising is if each and every new approach experienced immediate and/or sustained success. What these challenges and setbacks underline is the need for litigation to be embedded within the broader climate movement in order to maximize its strategic impact regardless of the result in court. That is, in light of the narrow window for effective climate mitigation, an effective climate movement cannot put its stock in a single case or in the judicial system alone; it must leverage its wins and find ways to overcome its losses.

Given this strategic imperative, it is pleasing to see a growing symbiosis between advocacy in the courts and the streets. Two threads in particular are worth noting. One is the explosion in youth climate activism, thanks to (among others) Greta Thunberg, Fridays for Future, the Juliana plaintiffs, and the broader youth (and non-youth) climate strike movement. Although youth-led legal actions have helped inspire the intergenerational justice frame of the climate strike movement, the climate strikes have an energy and prominence of their own making, and transformative potential independent of litigation. The other thread is the coalescence of the climate movement around broad-based, comprehensive, justice-and-equity-promoting policy platforms to address the climate crisis, like the Green New Deal, over narrower market interventions like a price on carbon. Both threads are an indication that  broader societal and cultural shifts are occurring that, historically, have played a more crucial role in social change than legal victories alone.

Part Two of this post will consider whether these global trends are gaining traction in Australia, and what differences we are seeing between the global picture and Australia.

Danny Noonan is a climate change advocate, scholar, and Australian-qualified lawyer. He is a co-founder and board member of Breach, a newly-established organisation that partners with frontline communities to advance climate justice through legal advocacy, grassroots organizing, and strategic communications.

 One of the most striking features of the coronavirus pandemic currently sweeping the world is that the disease appears to have far graver consequences for older people than for youth. According to a new study that analyses the effects of coronavirus in China during January and February, the severity of the disease increases markedly as the age of those afflicted rises. In China, victims under 40 faced a fatality rate of less than 0.1 percent, and were far less likely to need hospitalization at all than other patients; victims in their 60s, on the other hand, experienced a fatality rate of about 2 percent, and those over 80 a rate of almost 8 percent. (It’s worth noting, though, that hospitalization and mortality rates for younger people appear to be higher in the U.S. and perhaps other countries.)

Public health officials have as a result faced a challenge in conveying to young people who believe they are unlikely to suffer severe consequences if they contract the virus that they nonetheless need to make sacrifices to protect their elders. Specifically, they have been asked to maintain social distancing and, in many cases, to make significant financial sacrifices as multiple streams of the economy dry up. It’s no wonder that this has not always been an easy sell for public health agencies, and that many news accounts have showcased young people rebelliously gathering at such hotspots as college spring break destinations in Florida, Bondi Beach in Sydney, and even so-called “coronavirus parties.” 

Overall, though, it has been striking to witness how calls to maintain social distancing in order to “flatten the curve” and reduce chances of catastrophic collapses in health-care systems have largely been heeded in a sort of demographic solidarity. As teenage climate activist Greta Thunberg tweeted, “We young people are the least affected by this virus but it’s essential that we act in solidarity with the most vulnerable and that we act in the best interest of our common society.”

The coronavirus crisis, then, represents a remarkable mirror image of how intergenerational justice considerations play out around our changing climate. The breakdown of the Earth’s relatively stable climate is a monumental crisis whose costs will be greatest for those who have the most years left to live. It’s impossible to ascribe climate change to any single generation, since both causes and effects have been building for many decades—yet because the causes and likely consequences of climate change have been well known for at least three decades, it is possible to assign especial blame to those who have been in positions of power and privilege during those years. Which means: people who are older now who have consistently favoured short-term goals such as profit and comfort over long-term concerns.

One of the principal arguments of the youth climate movement is that the climate crisis calls for a shift from generational self-interest to intergenerational justice. As Thunberg told assembled world leaders at the United Nations Climate Action Summit last fall: “You are failing us. But the young people are starting to understand your betrayal. The eyes of all future generations are upon you. And if you choose to fail us, I say: We will never forgive you. We will not let you get away with this.”

The coronavirus crisis, then, raises important questions about the workings of intergenerational equity and sacrifice. If coronavirus is to be controlled, young people need to give up some freedom and economic opportunity so that the primary beneficiaries—older people—can live. But if the climate crisis can be controlled at all so that today’s young people have a shot at a liveable future, it is those who are in positions of political, economic, and social power today—primarily older people—who need to sacrifice some comfort and profits for the sake of the future. Assuming the coronavirus crisis abates, will world leaders such as President Donald Trump in the U.S. and Prime Minister Scott Morrison in Australia, both of whom have been very friendly toward fossil fuel interests, finally concede that generational turnabout is fair play, and that they’re willing to foreground the interests of the young?

Peter Friederici is director of the Sustainable Communities Program and a professor in the School of Communication at Northern Arizona University. Peter writes on science and climate communication-among other things. Peter and his family recently visited Tasmania. Corvid 19 meant his visit was shortened, but we are hoping he will write for us again and come back soon.

The displacement of people by natural hazards, disasters and climate change is not just a future phenomenon – it is happening now. In 2018, more than 17 million people worldwide were newly displaced by disasters, nearly double the number displaced by conflict and violence in the same period. Most of those who leave their homes in the context of disasters and climate change remain within their own countries. However, if people cannot access adequate assistance and protection at home, they inevitably more further afield. 

Africa is one of the region’s most vulnerable to disaster and climate change-related displacement. In the Lake Chad region, severe shrinking of the lake, combined with poverty, conflict and insurgency, has forced huge numbers of people to leave their countries in search of safety, security and better opportunities. In the Horn of Africa, drought is increasingly prompting movement of pastoralists, farmers and other workers in search of land, water and sustainable livelihoods.

Despite the reality of cross-border disaster and climate change-related displacement worldwide, there is no comprehensive framework under international law for ensuring the safety and dignity of those forced from their homes by drought, flooding, desertification and severe storms. Against this background, governments and others are looking to existing international and regional frameworks for opportunities to provide pathways to safety for those who move.

At the regional level, Africa provides two novel opportunities for addressing the current ‘protection gap’ for people displaced across borders by disasters and climate change. 

The first is Africa’s regional refugee protection framework. While the 1951 Refugee Convention has only limited application in the disaster and climate change context, Africa’s regional refugee protection instrument – the 1969 African Refugee Convention – is broader than the international instrument. In particular, Africa’s regional definition of a ‘refugee’ extends refugee protection to a broader range of people, including those compelled to leave their homes owing to ‘events seriously disturbing public order’. 

While not every natural hazard or disaster will give rise to events seriously disturbing public order, some will. For instance, where flooding or drought combines with the other pressures, such as conflict, insurgency and poor governance, the combined effects may indeed reach the threshold of a serious disturbance to public order, giving those affected the right to protection as refugees.

The other opportunity for addressing cross-border disaster and climate change displacement in Africa is found in African regional and sub-regional ‘free movement of persons’ agreements. While the implementation of free movement across Africa is still a long way off, many African states are taking steps to relax visa and entry requirements for neighbouring states. In the East African Community (EAC), for example, the governments of Kenya, Uganda and Rwanda have signed an agreement allowing citizens to travel between the three countries using national identity cards, making travel more accessible to those without passports. 

There are limits to the role that free movement can play in protecting disaster displaced people, as free movement agreements are generally adopted for economic purposes and entail significant state discretion regarding who can enter and stay. Nevertheless, in at least some circumstances, free movement arrangements could allow disaster affected communities to enter and stay in other countries and to access alternative, more sustainable livelihoods. 

African regional refugee protection and free movement frameworks could not only provide opportunities for regular movement and safety for displaced people in Africa. If they are harnessed, these opportunities could also provide examples of good practice to be adopted, or adapted, in other regions grappling with displacement in a changing climate.

Tamara Wood, Lecturer in Law, University of Tasmania; Centre Affiliate, Kaldor Centre for International Refugee Law, UNSW. Tamara is the author of ‘The Role of Free Movement of Persons Agreements in Addressing Disaster Displacement – A Study of Africa’ – a report published by the Platform on Disaster Displacement in May 2019.

More young people than ever from around the world are actively raising the need for urgent climate action, whether through climate strikes, or participating in the Chile/Madrid meetings of the UNFCCC Conference of  Parties, or local actions.  Children and young people are also bringing cases in courts and tribunals and the UN human rights system to pursue their arguments for much greater climate action. Many young people in universities across disciplines are also engaged in climate research and thinking about possible responses. This is not a concern of a few activists. The Mission Australia Youth Survey for 2019 released in December shows the environment has soared from eighth place in 2018 to second place in 2019 in the list of the issues young people say are the most important issues in Australia – more than tripling in significance since last year.Since 2018, the proportion of those from Tasmania reporting the environment as a key national issue has jumped from 15.3% to 40.4%. Nine out of ten young people also said they felt that they didn’t have a voice in public affairs https://www.missionaustralia.com.au/what-we-do/research-impact-policy-advocacy/youth-survey.

We should all be listening to young people. More than this, we should be working with them to come up with ideas and actions to deal with climate change. They must also be part of shaping the discussion about climate justice and a just transition in a decarbonising world. We owe it to them to engage them as the concerned and thoughtful agents that they are, as well as the ones whose futures are most at risk. 

Jan Linehan & Peter Lawrence, Co-convenors, Climate Justice Network

I would like to begin by acknowledging the wonderful Welcome to Country this morning and pay my respects to the Tasmanian Aboriginal community, particularly their leaders, past, present and emerging, for their persistence, vision and generosity. 

I will be talking today about why we need to bring climate change front and centre into our human rights thinking and why we need to look at creating institutions to represent future generations. It is great to be able to discuss this issue in a conference of human rights practitioners. Peter Lawrence from the UTAS Faculty of Law and I research all aspects of climate justice, including intergenerational justice, and are interested in developing better climate policy making and governance. We are currently researching institutions to represent future generations and normative frameworks for them based on intergenerational justice, sustainable development and human rights. The following comments draw on our joint research and thinking, but the views expressed are mine alone. 

Most presentations on climate change, or the climate emergency, begin with the latest scientific report that confirms 3 things, how bad things will be; how little time there is take action-called mitigation, and how it has already started with extreme weather events, melting ice, heating temperatures etc. I am not going to go through this[1]. I will just add it has been understood for decades that future generations will be the most impacted by climate change, the impacts will be felt most by the most vulnerable, and that inaction or delaying action will make it much more expensive for future generations to take action. 

I assume most of us understand the connection between climate impacts, “policy choices” that governments make about climate policy, and human rights, such as the right to life, health, food, discriminatory impacts on women and children, and indigenous people and so on. Most of us probably also understand that some “policy choices” that governments might make raise so-called “transitional justice” issues, for example, for coal mining or powerplant workers and their communities.

Still, it is important to be clear about what is at stake and why human rights institutions in Australia should engage more with climate policy making and the national conversation we should really be having. Phillip Alston, the UN’s Special Rapporteur on Extreme Poverty and Human Rights wrote a report on climate change to Human Rights Council in June this year.  I will read part of the summary of the report:

Climate change threatens the future of human rights and risks undoing the last fifty years of progress in development, global health, and poverty reduction.

Governments, and too many in the human rights community [including Alston he says] have failed to seriously address climate change for decades. States are giving only marginal attention to human rights in the conversation on climate change.

Although climate change has been on the human rights agenda for well over a decade, it remains a marginal concern for most actors. Yet it represents an emergency without precedent and requires bold and creative thinking from the human rights community, and a radically more robust, detailed, and coordinated approach.

Alston was directing his comments mainly at international human rights actors, but they are relevant to all of us.[2]

Of course, the question of the interests or rights of future generations is much broader than climate change-although climate change is the existential challenge- it extends to all kinds of social and economic issues and government policy making, for example in the areas of pensions, welfare, and housing. These are not new issues- we  face systemic short-termism. As the 1987 Brundtland Sustainable Development Report, Our Common Future, noted “we act as we do because we can get away with it; future generations do not vote; they have no political or financial power; they cannot challenge our decisions”.

Our institutions-political and legal-are “ill-equipped” to take these interests into account in their present decision-making. It is more complicated than just the impact of the systemic “short-termism” built into electoral cycles, we continue to suffer from “values-lag”, failures of imagination and empathy, and much worse, what the philosopher Stephen Gardener calls “moral corruption”[3].

The research Peter and I and some of our brilliant UTAS students are doing has 2 aspects- as I said earlier. First, we are looking at normative frameworks -these are ethical and legal frameworks, drawing on ideas of intergenerational justice, sustainable development, democratic legitimacy, and human rights. We are also looking at different institutions to represent future generations. Today, I am only going to talk about institutions. If you are interested in the normative aspects, I suggest looking at Alston’s report, our website: www.climatejustice.network – it includes links to articles on climate justice, and Peter Lawrence’s book Justice for Future Generations-Climate Change and International Law.[4]

On institutions, there are different models. Finland has a parliamentary Committee for the Future and New Zealand has had a Parliamentary Commissioner for the Environment for more than 30 years. There are also many relevant statutory bodies in Australia: many states have had statutory sustainability commissioners for years-but not Tasmania. And there are a few more recent innovations, such as the Commissioners for Future Generations in Hungary and Wales in the UK. The editors of a recent book said that if there is an “institutional gap” in representing the interests of future generations, it is not due to a shortage of proposals, but rather a failure to enact them[5].

In June this year, we held an experts meeting at UTAS with a mix of lawyers, political scientists, several former commissioners, students and others, with a view to developing principles and models that might be adopted in Australia and elsewhere. We also held a public forum and a youth workshop on these issues. One of the institutions we looked at quite closely was the Future Generations Commissioner for Wales and it provides good lessons for thinking about how to represent the interests of future generations. Having said that, a number of people in the experts meeting stressed the importance of understanding local conditions and not assuming one model will work everywhere.  Also, we should not rely on creating a single institution as sufficient. We have to look at many different ways to integrate the principle of taking account of future generations in all our policy processes and decision-making, including public service policy making, parliamentary engagement, and the work of the many independent statutory bodies that have responsibilities that impact climate or have a role in climate responses. Similarly, we have to look more closely at engaging local actors, such as local councils and planners in considering future generations. Jonathan Boston, a New Zealand political scientist who attended our meeting, co-authored a great report in June for the NZ Parliament outlining  a “menu” approach.[6] And we clearly need a menu in Australia. Nonetheless, experience in other fields and arguably the example of the Wales Commissioner itself suggests the importance of having an independent, specialised office holder or body. The interests of future generations need their own guardian. 

The Wales Commissioner was created in 2015 under the Well-being of Future Generations (Wales) Act 2015. Wales, as part of the UK, is also covered by the UK Human Rights Act 1998 and the Equality Act 2010 and the UK Equality and Human Rights Commission. It also has a number of other Wales’ specific institutions, such as a Children’s Commissioner. 

The Well-being Act imposes duties on Ministers and public bodies to set and act on “well-being objectives” and take reasonable steps to carry out the “sustainable development principle”. It provides for reporting and review mechanisms involving the statutory offices of the Future Generations Commissioner and the Auditor. It defines the both “well-being objectives” and the “sustainable development principle”. Under the “well-being objectives” Wales is envisaged as prosperous, resilient, healthier, more equal, has cohesive communities, vibrant culture and thriving language and is globally responsible.

Under the “sustainable development principle”, “public bodies must act in a manner which seeks to ensure that the needs of the present are met without compromising the ability of future generations to meet their own needs.” In order to act in that manner, a public body must take account of the following things— “the importance of balancing short term needs with the need to safeguard the ability to meet long term needs, especially where things done to meet short term needs may have detrimental long term effect”.

The Act states the general function of the Commissioner is—

“(a) to promote the sustainable development principle, in particular to:

(i)    act as a guardian of the ability of future generations to meet their needs, and

(ii)  encourage public bodies to take greater account of the long-term impact of the things that they do, and

(b)   for that purpose to monitor and assess the extent to which well-being objectives set by public bodies are being met.”

Under the Well-being Act, the Commissioner’s role is to work with Ministers, public bodies, public service boards, as well as exercising some oversight, along with the Auditor, to make recommendations, and undertake independent reviews. On its face this sounds potentially quite bureaucratic and possibly not very effective, but the current Commissioner, Sophie Howe, is very pro-active and has made a number of high-profile interventions, including opposing the proposed M4 relief road-a major infrastructure project. Recently, she has issued statements on the importance of the climate emergency and how Wales is failing to fund a climate emergency-which drilled down into the detail of needed funding in the next budget for decarbonisation [7].

The Commissioner’s role is very broad, so she is looking at many more issues than environmental issues. The Commissioner, after consultation, identified 6 priority area, “skills, adverse childhood experience, better ways to keep people well, planning, housing and transport”[8]. The Well-being Act embeds the sustainable development principle in Ministerial and bureaucratic processes and provides some oversight, transparency, accountability and a guardian advocate for future generations. It is not perfect. The “sustainable development principle” has been easily subverted in the past. Whether that principle can deliver what is needed depends on a strong future-oriented interpretation by the Commissioner. Similarly, whether the office of the Commissioner can deliver what is needed depends on its proactiveness and its “leadership”. Maxine Cooper, the former ACT Environment and Sustainability Commissioner and Auditor stressed at our June meeting that strong leadership of institutions was critical if they were to be effective.

So how realistic is it to think this model might be adopted anywhere else? For example, Tasmania? Peter Davies, one of the architects of the Well-being Act, said in our June meeting there were some clear lessons from Wales for others. The first is the importance of how the legislation is developed and this involves much more than just routine consultation. Peter Davies described a journey to ensure political understanding and support through lots of dialogue and non-confrontational meetings. Community and business consultations were also important, both in creating support for the Act and its subsequent acceptance. This process of engagement continues. Secondly, the early choice to frame the Act as about “well-being” and not about “rights” or the “environment” was important: no one wanted to argue against the well-being of future generations.  

Part of the challenge for us is to think about how to start to have this kind of conversation here in what are very contested political times. It is one small step, but it feels big. We are running out of time, so we can’t wait any longer to try new things. It feels like there is a little bit more openness at the moment to having the conversation. We don’t know what the impact of the current climate protest movements, including those led by young people, will be, but governments are always making decisions and will continue to do so. We need independent voices in government structures who are empowered to participate in these decisions and people who can argue we should make decisions in a way that doesn’t impose unfair additional burdens on the poorer members of our societies or fail to consider our children or future generations.  We need some guardians. However, we shouldn’t wait until we have something like a specialised institution in place. As Philip Alston said: “Human rights actors must be willing to translate States’ obligations in a way that more clearly engages with policymaking choices, or will lose relevance to this debate. “

And I would add to that, our national and state and territory human rights institutions should really engage with climate change and its impacts, including on our children and young people, as well as on future generations. The issue is not about mandates. As Alston said, the mandates are there in international human rights law[9]. It is not easy and not straightforward: there are other urgent competing priorities, minimal resources, and there will be a predictable reaction from many of our politicians and sections of the media. 

In conclusion: I would like to encourage us to think about 3 things: 

1.   How Wales-style Future Generations Commissioners could work in Australia to complement, not displace, human rights bodies or environment bodies. 

2.   How human rights actors can take up Philip Alston’s challenge and also help break down the idea that we have to have institutional silos and separate categories of human rights, environment, and climate change. 

3.   How we can engage our communities, business, and our young people in meaningful discussions about climate change, justice, and human rights. 

I am happy to answer questions later.  As I said at the start, Peter and I and our great students run the Climate Justice Network at UTAS and we are very interested in the lessons we can learn from your experience in institutions from around the country. Thank you.

Jan Linehan, Safeguarding and Promoting the Rights of Future Generations, ACHRA Conference, Hobart, 18 October 2019. Jan is the co-convenor of the Climate Justice Network based at the Faculty of Law of the University of Tasmania. 

[1] See the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change: Global Warming of 1.5º (2018)

https://www.ipcc.ch/sr15/ 

[2] Climate Change and Poverty, Report of the Special Rapporteur on Extreme Poverty and Human Rights, 25 June 2019, A/HRC/41/39 ; see also Alston’s website-srpoverty.org

[3] S. Gardiner, A Perfect Moral Storm: The Ethical Tragedy of Climate Change (OUP, 2011).The complexity of climate change risks moral corruption which is the "illegitimate taking advantage of a position of superior power for the sake of personal gain" (Gardiner, 2011, p. 304). “It is a distortion of the way we talk about a problem from an ethical point of view, because our background incentives to deal with the problem might not be that great…. In this case some of the major victims are future generations and nonhuman nature. They can’t speak for themselves, so there isn’t that kind of pressure on us to be consistent in what we say.” https://www.washington.edu/news/2011/12/05/climate-change-stirs-perfect-moral-storm-prof-says/

[4] P. Lawrence, Justice for Future Generations-Climate Change and International Law (Edward Elgar, 2014)

[5] I. Gonzalez-Ricoy and F. Rey, Enfranchising the Future: Climate Justice and the Representation of Future Generations, in ed. I. Gonzalez-Ricoy & A. Gosseries, Institutions for Future Generations (OUP, 2016), p. 2. 

[6] Jonathan Boston, David Bagnall and Anna Barry,  Foresight, insight and oversight: Enhancing long-term governance through better parliamentary scrutiny, https://www.victoria.ac.nz/__data/assets/pdf_file/0011/1753571/Foresight-insight-and-oversight.pdf

 [7]https://futuregenerations.wales/news/wales-is-failing-to-fund-a-climate-emergency/ https://futuregenerations.wales/news/future-generations-commissioner-for-wales-publishes-ten-point-plan-to-fund-wales-climate-emergency/

[8] https://futuregenerations.wales/fgcw-priority-areas/

[9] See the Alston 2019 report; the statement by the 5 United Nations Human Rights Treaty Committees on Human rights and Climate Change, 16 September 2019 https://www.ohchr.org/en/NewsEvents/Pages/DisplayNews.aspx?NewsID=24998&LangID=E; the Australian Human Rights Commission, https://www.humanrights.gov.au/our-work/rights-and-freedoms/projects/climate-change-and-human-rights published 2008, accessed October 2019. The statutory mandates of state bodies, including children’s commissioners, are potentially broad enough to cover climate impacts and responses, but this requires further research. 

We are asking researchers, Honours, Masters and PhD students, post docs, alumni with a connection to the University of Tasmania, and participants in our climate justice events or the CJ Network, to consider writing a blog contribution to share research or inform the current debate on climate change and in particular to bring a “justice perspective” to the research agenda and public discussion. 

We are interested in blogs written for a non-specialist audience. The topics can be global or place-based, e.g in Tasmania-but not limited to Tasmania.

As a cross-disciplinary research network, we welcome contributions from all fields, such as law, ethics, political science studies, sustainability or climate science studies, communications and media, social research, psychology, economics, energy studies, health, agriculture, business, human rights, the arts, and social movements. We are also interested in creative pieces, pieces about community-led initiatives, and what universities are doing in the sustainability/climate change space. 

We envisage contributions of both shorter and longer length. 

 If you are interested, contact Jan by email-Jan.Linehan@utas.edu.au

Rebecca Byrnes 

Policy Analyst – Grantham Research Institute, London School of Economics and Political Science

Australia has a poor record on climate change. Under current policies the country is not on track to meet its Paris Agreement targets, which are already insufficient to meet the goal of limiting global warming to 1.5oC above pre-industrial levels. Australia is exposed to a multitude of future climate hazards, such as sea level rise, tropical cyclones, flooding, bushfires and extreme heat, which will impact poor and vulnerable communities the most.

Climate litigation is increasingly recognised as a tool to pursue climate justice through existing legal frameworks. Recent research by the Grantham Research Institute found that since the first climate change cases were brought in the early 1990s, at least 28 countries have seen plaintiffs take to the courts to advance climate action. 

Australia has been an early leader in climate litigation, coming in second only to the US in terms of the number of recorded climate change-related cases. With a rich history of climate litigation and several important cases progressing through the courts, climate litigation in Australia has the potential both to shift the dial in terms of domestic climate policy to and set important precedents internationally.

Early climate cases drew on planning law to prevent harmful new developments

In 1994 a case brought by Greenpeace Australia against the newly approved Redbank coal-fired power station sought to overturn the approval of the power station on several grounds, including that it would emit harmful greenhouse gases (GHG). While unsuccessful, the case began a string of planning-related cases that have incrementally brought climate considerations to the fore in environmental impact assessments. 

This year, Judge Preston of the NSW Land and Environment Court handed down the landmark Rocky Hill case. This case upheld the decision to refuse planning approval for a new open-cut mine in the Hunter Valley, citing climate change as an important factor. While cases in other states (including with respect to the Carmichael Coal Mine in Queensland) have not yet given such weight to climate considerations, this NSW decision likely indicates the direction of travel for future planning decisions.

Climate risk disclosure is a new battleground for climate litigators

Major corporations and investment funds are also increasingly in the firing line for strategic climate litigation. In 2016 shareholders sued the Commonwealth Bank of Australia for failing to disclose climate change related business risks associated with the proposed new Carmichael Coal Mine. The case was withdrawn when the Bank’s 2017 report did include this information. 

In July 2018, Mark McVeigh, filed a lawsuit against the Australian Retail Employees Superannuation Trust (REST) for failing to disclose information related to its climate related business risks. The case is scheduled for evidentiary hearings later in 2019, with McVeigh arguing that the failure of the fund to provide adequate information relating to its exposure to climate-related risks prevents him from making an informed judgment about the management and financial condition of his superannuation.

New human rights litigation could push government for stronger targets

A group of Torres Strait Islanders launched a first-of-its kind case in May 2019. The group has made a complaint against the Federal Government to the UN’s Human Rights Committee, alleging that the government’s failure to take sufficient action to reduce greenhouse gas emissions and fund coastal defences for the islands is a breach of human rights obligations under the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights. The Torres Strait Islanders are asking the Human Rights Committee to require Australia to increase its emission reduction targets to 65 per cent by 2030, and net zero by 2050.

This is the first climate change claim against the Federal Government on the basis of human rights in Australia, but not the first to do so globally. In 2015, the environmental branch of the Lahore High Court found in favour of Ashgar Leghari, a Pakistani farmer who had sued the government on the basis of the rights to life and dignity enshrined in the Constitution of Pakistan, for delay in implementing their National Climate Change Policy and addressing vulnerabilities to climate change. In the same year, the landmark Urgenda case was handed down in the Netherlands, which ordered the Dutch Government to increase its emissions reduction target to meet its fair contribution to reducing global emissions. This decision was upheld on appeal in 2018 on the basis of rights to life, private life, family, home and correspondence in the European Convention on Human Rights. 

Other cases against governments around the world have found it challenging to establish a causal link between government policies, consequent country-wide emissions and specific climate-related harms. However, advances in the field of study known as attribution science are making this easier. 

And there are further signals that the case might have a good chance of success. In the lead up to the UN Secretary General’s Climate Action Summit on 23 September, five UN human rights treaty bodies issued a joint statement expressing that a failure by countries to reduce their emissions targets in line with what is needed to meet a the global goal of 1.5C could be a violation of international human rights obligations. 

As with all litigation, the outcome of the case remains far from certain. However, success would not only mean that the Australian government would be obliged under international law to implement more rigorous climate policies, but would also set an important precedent for other cases around the world. 

Is climate litigation a smart strategy?

Despite the increased focus on climate litigation, few cases have yet managed to hold corporations or governments to account. Disclosure obligations pose a new opportunity for success that don’t rely on proving a causal link between a company’s emissions and climate impacts, but whether these cases lead to more ambitious climate action on the part of companies is yet to be seen. Litigation is a costly endeavour and its merits should be carefully considered on a case-by-case basis.

What is clear is that major cases like the one brought by the Torres Strait Islanders can give a voice to vulnerable groups significantly impacted by climate change. And as the planning cases demonstrate, sustained efforts by litigants over time can result in incremental but real change. 

The major takeaway is that developers, corporations and governments should not underestimate the risk of climate litigation. Proactive strategies, including the adoption of zero-carbon policies, adaptation measures and greater transparency are fundamental both to reducing this risk and protecting vulnerable communities.

This commentary draws on the work of Dr Joana Setzer and Rebecca Byrnes published in the Grantham Research Institute policy report ‘Global trends in climate change litigation: 2019 snapshot’ (July 2019). 

In this last month of summer, two events in Hobart highlight a widening, deepening awareness of what climate change will mean as this century wears on.

Climate justice is about ensuring that everyone has some protection from the most damaging impacts of climate change and the disruption that comes with building a sustainable society, while also being enabled to take an active part in that transformation.

Last week lawyers, philosophers, political scientists and sociologists, the odd scientist and many other luminaries from across Australia and abroad descended on Hobart for Imagining a Different Future, a symposium on climate justice hosted by the University of Tasmania.

In the many years I’ve been writing about climate change I’ve attended countless conferences including some excellent ones around human health. But there have been none quite like this one, focusing on the ethics that underlie the reshaping of society by our changing climate.

I hope there are more to come. Imagining a Different Future had important messages for all who want to get their heads around the barriers we face in responding to climate change, where concerns about justice and equity are repeatedly being drowned out by the deafening din of populism.

While it’s true that politicians continue to ignore those who wrestle daily with climate issues, this was anything but a gathering of do-gooders wailing that no-one is listening to them. Speaker after speaker emphasised that in this long, complex game everyone is responsible.

Collective responsibility was underlined in a public lecture by one of the conference’s star guests, US political and environmental philosopher Steve Vanderheiden, author of the award-winning 2008 book Atmospheric Justice.

Like everyone else at last week’s conference, I’ve struggled over the years to articulate to myself and others how an individual person should respond to the climate challenge. I’ve usually got around the problem by asserting that the most effective response is to lobby politicians to act.

In his Hobart Town Hall presentation, Vanderheiden shifted the focus back to his audience – ordinary citizens wanting to do their bit. He pointed out that people refuse to engage with the climate issue, or become downright hostile about it, because objectives are too big and far away.

“What if our individual obligations had a different, more attainable objective?” he asked, and listed things that anyone can do with little effort which, added together, amount to a great deal.

Things like reading, observing, listening, supporting science and professional journalism and government institutions, joining with others in cooperative effort, monitoring personal footprints, divesting from the carbon economy, and above all, persevering.

Borrowing from the conference’s title, Vanderheiden enjoined us to imagine a different future, and then live it.

This may not be music to the ears of your average eco-warrior, hungry for direct and decisive action, but it gets to the heart of the things that are holding us up. We will not win this battle by individual heroic effort, however welcome, but by collective acceptance of a different future.

....

To read the rest of the article by Peter Boyer, which also covers a talk by Paul Hawken on his project, Drawdown, and his speaking engagements in Hobart, see the Mercury for 13 February 2018 or Peter Boyer's website Southwind, http://southwind.com.au

The apocalypse, while never an appealing notion, has been somewhat in literary vogue since the bible was first published. The arrival of the climate change induced apocalypse in literature is a fairly new literary game. The apocalyptic fiction I grew up reading included the despair inducing Children of the Dust (1985) and Robert C O’Brien’s particularly depressing Z for Zachariah (1974). The apocalypse in those books, which were published during the Cold War, was nuclear induced. There is a new wave of post apocalyptic books that imagine a world fraught from climate change, a world that we inhabit more and more every day.

Three recently published books, The Island Will Sink by Briohny Doyle, The Map of Bones by Francesca Haig and The World Without Us by Mireille Juchau all relate a world directly impacted by climate change. The only similarity these books share is that they are fiction, though as we wake up every morning with the tides lapping higher, and the winds blowing harder, elements that are, like so much rendered in speculative fiction rapidly becoming a reality.

The Island Will Sink by Bryony Doyle (The Lifted Brow 2016) is a ripper of a book, based around a film producer who has been cashing in on the apocalyptic nature of a ‘post’ climate change world. His current opus is to film Pitcairn Island as it sinks, to create an immersive disaster experience for viewers. It is set in the near future, and houses are designed to withstand the unpredictable tempests.

The ‘post’ in post apocalyptic in these book varies. UK based Tasmanian poet and novelist, Francesca Haig’s Fire Sermon Trilogy (Harper Collins) is set very much in the post-post climate change world. The change has occurred, fractured communities and resulted in some children being born marked differently and considered dangerous. The memory of the change that tore life as we know it asunder, is now muted, almost mythic. The reader is still left in no doubt that the changes that caused daily life in this novel to be so profoundly different from how we live today were made by changes in the climate.

The World Without Us is an exquisite story that sits snugly in the literary fiction genre. It is primarily about the nature of grief, and this is told through the story of a family who have lost a sister, a daughter, and a family who has produced honey for a long time. The ‘without us’ in the title refers to a world without bees, though it also alludes to a deeper loss. I’m no scientist and while I understand that the decline in bee populations around the world is chemical related. You might say that it also alludes to the loss of species predicted to occur as a result of climate change.

To finish, and not to leave you with a dystopic taste in your mouth, I would like to mention that these books, as depressing in parts as they may be, all share characters with common human resilience. It is their uniting element, so profoundly disparate in genre as the books are. They show an evolutionary drive to adapt though they in no way celebrate the loss and profound change of their settings, and the changes in day to day life as a result of climate change.

The portrayal of climate change in fiction is a powerful mechanism to educate, and indeed offers an opportunity for creative activism. Storytelling about climate change is a stealth mechanism for making positive change in the world, indeed the power of art to convey messages otherwise lost through issue fatigue, or insidious political agendas must be recognised and celebrated. These three books do that, as did Z for Zachariah, for my ten year old self that taught me to fear nuclear war, and even better to challenge an apathetic status quo.
 

Rachel Edwards is the editor at Transportation Press.

In August 2015, 21 youth from across the United States, launched the ground-breaking constitutional climate lawsuit Juliana v. United States in the U.S. District Court for the District of Oregon. The youth are supported by Our Children’s Trust, a non-profit organisation coordinating a legal campaign to secure the fundamental right to a stable climate system for young people and future generations.

The Juliana case is just one of a suite of legal actions since 2011 filed by young people with the help of attorneys at Our Children’s Trust. These actions have been filed in many U.S. states and globally, each seeking comprehensive, science-based government action on climate change. Not content to leave the task of climate recovery to protracted political negotiation or incremental, development-by-development legal challenges, these lawsuits are both imagining and achieving a more ambitious vision of climate justice in the courtroom.

Yet even within this movement, Juliana is distinct. Its target, the United States, is currently the world’s second-largest and historically the world’s largest emitter of greenhouse gases. The case is based, in the words of the United States District Court, a “novel” legal theory based on both the Due Process and Equal Protection Clauses of the United States Constitution, and the common law public trust doctrine. And it has already attracted a large public profile, having been covered in publications ranging from Teen Vogue to the New Yorker, and even has its own #youthvgov hashtag.

Despite motions to dismiss the case, in November 2016, 2 days after the U.S. presidential election, the District Court denied the motions, recognised a fundamental right to “a climate system capable of supporting human life,” and paved the way for Juliana to go to trial. As a result, the 3 fossil fuel industry intervenors that had previously intervened in the case elected to withdraw in May 2017. The U.S. government has since taken the extraordinary and rarely-used step of petitioning for a Writ of Mandamus directly in the Ninth Circuit Court of Appeals. The Ninth Circuit’s decision is currently pending, and has seen its own twists and turns since oral arguments were heard last December.

Meanwhile, the United States is in the midst of a Trump presidency, noted for its consistent and effective moves to suppress climate science, wind back environmental regulations and promote fossil fuels. It is important to recognize, however, that Trump’s election has really done very little to change the case’s fundamentals. As one of the youth plaintiffs in the Our Children’s Trust-coordinated lawsuit in Washington State––Foster v. Ecology––explains:

“Our lawsuits are really not about Trump; they were filed before he was in office. A lot of what we’re seeing right now suggests that every march and every protest are just about this one guy. As if we could get rid of this one guy and everything would be all great.

“What we’re suing for is a specific climate recovery plan, because the United States government has known for years about climate change and what fossil fuels do to our environment, and they’ve continued to make it worse.”

The allegations in Juliana v. United States, and the evidence plaintiffs intend to submit at trial, attest to U.S. government knowledge of the risks of climate change dating back to the 1960s and multiple government plans, not implemented, to stabilise the climate and transition away from fossil fuels. Despite knowledge of climate risks and opportunity for change, both Republican and Democratic Administrations continued to permit, promote and subsidise fossil fuel extraction, combustion and export.

Nor has the Trump Presidency altered the scientific urgency of emissions reduction or lessened the severity of the climate crisis. Rather, past and present government action supporting fossil fuels, and inaction on climate change, have persisted even as we have move well past safe levels of atmospheric CO2 (i.e., below 350 parts-per-million) and into a dangerous climate system. We simply cannot wait in hope that the Trumpocene will soon pass to take radical action: winning slowly is the same as losing. Anything other than a rapid drawdown of greenhouse gas emissions will burden future generations with a choice between exorbitantly expensive and unproven technological fixes, runaway climate change, or a combination of both.

 Just as the U.S. government is by no means the only government guilty of both long-standing knowledge of the risks of climate change, and recalcitrant climate and energy policies, so too the fossil fuel industry bears responsibility for its actions in the face of known climate risks. Unsurprisingly, legal actions against both governments and the fossil fuel industry are rapidly proliferating. Each kind of case articulates a different narrative of responsibility for climate change and of climate justice. It remains to be seen whether these narratives can be harmonised both inside and outside the courtroom.

Nevertheless, what these cases do show is that, if we are to both imagine and achieve a different future––and overcome decades of business-as-usual, political half-measures, lip service to real action, and largely symbolic international treaty-making––then novel, potentially transformative legal actions like Juliana v. United States are likely to play a crucial role.  

A panel discussion on Climate Litigation will be held this Friday 9th February, on day two of Imagining a Different Future: Overcoming Barriers to Climate Justice Conference. Other speakers on this topic include Jacqueline Peel, Timothy Baxter, Margaretha Wewerinke-Singh, and Hari Prasetiyo.

Danny Noonan is a Climate Law Fellow with Our Children’s Trust, having graduated from Sydney Law School in 2017. He is writing in his personal capacity.

One of the most vexed questions in the international climate negotiations is how to share the effort of keeping warming below dangerous levels. If we have to reduce pollution to stabilize the Earth’s climate, then how much should each country contribute, and who should pay?

In the global agreement adopted in Paris in 2015 countries agreed to a goal of keeping warming below 2 degrees C above pre-industrial levels, with efforts to limit warming below 1.5 degrees C.

To achieve this objective, the volume of greenhouse gasses building up in the atmosphere must peak and decline rapidly over the next few decades, with the world’s net emissions and removals balancing out at zero in the second half of this century.

Wealthier countries have argued that many of the opportunities to avoid growth in emissions arise in developing countries, which have not yet built their energy systems and infrastructure, and so action should take place there.

Many poorer countries, by contrast, have argued most of the emissions causing warming have come from wealthy countries over many decades as they built infrastructure and developed, and wealthy people in these countries continue to consume and pollute well above the global average. Poorer countries, in turn, have a right to eradicate poverty and develop sustainably.

As well as concerns about who takes a lead in reducing climate pollution, are questions about how to pay for it – in other words, who should contribute the money, technology and capacity needed to get the job done, and how much it will cost.

Poorer and more vulnerable countries are also faced with the question of how to balance the cost of cutting emissions, with efforts to tackle the devastating impacts of climate-related disasters – witness the recent effect of hurricanes in the Caribbean.

These elements are linked together – how much the planet warms affects how much countries and communities need to adapt to adverse climate impacts, and levels of damage. On the other side of the equation, greater efforts to cut pollution imply lower atmospheric concentrations and temperatures, and lower damage. In each case, finance, technology and capacity is needed to help countries, particularly the poorer and more vulnerable ones, to mitigate and adapt to climate change (see diagram).

The UN climate regime is founded on the principle that countries with greater responsibility for causing climate change (e.g. historical emissions), and with greater capabilities to address it (e.g. wealth, income or technology), should lead efforts to address it.  Parties are to protect the climate system for the benefit of current and future generations “on the basis of equity”.

Despite this, the UN climate talks are not on track to solve the problem. Rather than ensuring countries take on legally binding emission reductions, the Paris Agreement enables each country to contribute what it “nationally determines” – effectively institutionalizing the problem (often referred to as a “tragedy of the commons”) that caused climate change.

Current levels of global emissions could place the world on track for up to 5 degrees C of warming by 2100.  According to the UN environment agency, pledges under the Paris Agreement – assuming they are implemented – place the world on track for warming in excess of 3 degrees C.

Developed countries have walked back from their binding obligations under the Kyoto Protocol in to a much weaker international regime for the richest countries, largely to accommodate the US and President Obama’s desire to sign the Paris Agreement without taking it to Congress – an approach that enables President Trump to “unsign” it with similar ease.

And the emissions reductions proposed by developed countries are woefully inadequate. Pledges by industrialized countries to cut climate pollution in the pre-2020 period were far less than those by developing countries.  Pledges for the post-2020 period under the Paris Agreement aren’t much better – analysis by civil society suggests the US and EU “nationally determined contributions” each amount to around half their respective fair shares.

Moreover, the levels of finance under discussion fall short. The finance goal of USD100 billion agreed in 2009 in Copenhagen, and extended in Paris, is far less than is required.  Analysis by University of Tasmania students participating in the International Justice Initiative suggest the figure is likely to be well above USD4 trillion. 

The international negotiations are, of course, a projection of the domestic politics of numerous countries. To scale up ambition globally will require greater pressure on national governments and polluters by concerned citizens, organizations and enterprises. It will also require a greater commitment to fairness within nation states – in the identification of solutions, the sharing of benefits and burdens, and the distribution of political power.

To achieve a better future, more effective movements for climate justice at local, national and global levels are urgently needed, and the climate justice conference taking place in Hobart later this month is one important opportunity to discuss how to achieve this.

Matthew Stilwell is a Convenor of the International Justice Initiative at the UTAS Faculty of Law and a public interest lawyer who has counselled governments, international- and non-governmental organizations in multilateral negotiations on trade, climate, energy and sustainable development.

My name is Zac Romagnoli-Townsend, I am a 25 year-old Mutawintji man who was born on Ballardong Noongar country, in a town that is now commonly known as Northam, Western Australia. I grew up in Dwellingup and I have lived in Lutrawita, commonly known as Tasmania, for the past 10 years, residing between Nubeena and Mouheneener country (Hobart and surrounds).

Seed is Australia's first nation-wide Indigenous-youth climate-justice action-network. I am the state coordinator for Seed in Lutrawita and I have been a Seed volunteer since early 2015.

When I was introduced to the concept of climate-justice, the combination of climate-change and social-justice, I knew that it was something that I wanted to work towards because climate change is the biggest security threat and it is inextricably linked to social justice, and injustice. The technical solutions to anthropogenic climate-change are available and inevitable; renewable energy infrastructure is existent and becoming increasingly cheaper as minerals such as coal get increasingly expensive and ecologically inviable.

The main barriers to attaining climate-justice are social and political because these solutions need to be applied in a timely manner to avoid unnecessary negative effects of climate change. However, there is resistance to these solutions because a powerful minority have vested interests in preserving the status quo as it is, because it benefits them.

Another barrier to attaining climate-justice is the fact that those who are first and worst affected by the causes and impacts of climate change are also those who contributed least to the issue. Demographics of people who have emitted the least amount greenhouse gases are disproportionally affected because they are materialistically less wealthy and hence rely on subsistence farming. Additionally, they have less access to resources to defend themselves from the increased frequency and intensity of natural disasters such as flooding, hurricanes and drought caused by climate-change.

Conversely, demographics of people who have access to more resources, such as proponents of the fossil fuel industry in Australia and the USA, are less threatened by the causes and impacts of climate change because they have made their material fortunes through the mining, selling and burning of fossil fuels. Therefore, it is easier for those who have contributed the most to climate change to avoid the issue and pretend that it is someone else’s’ responsibility to deal with.

In the continent now commonly known as Australia, the people who contributed the least to climate change who are first and worst affected are also the most disadvantaged demographic; Aboriginal and/or Torres Strait Islander peoples. These peoples also have the longest continuing cultures of conservation in human history. More than half of the population of Aboriginal and/or Torres Strait Islander peoples are under the age of 35, and this is why it is important to have Indigenous youth at the forefront of the climate-justice movement.

Seed is part of a collective of people who are building a generation-wide movement to solve the climate-crisis. Our strategy can be summarized as a process of talking, building and moving the mob. Talking involves discussions with Aboriginal community members to find out what their experience of climate change is, and spreading awareness about Seed and what we do. Building refers to recruitment of new volunteers and training them to engage in activism aimed at climate-justice. Moving the mob is calling those volunteers to action and mobilizing them to pursue climate justice by participating in non-violent direct action, other forms of activism including petitioning, and empowering them to take leadership in their communities.

Seed’s current strategic goals include stopping Adani’s Carmichael coalmine and banning fracking in the Northern Territory. We would like to see an end to all new fossil fuel projects and a just transition to 100% renewable energy, meaning that people employed in the fossil fuel industry are supported, retrained and reemployed in a sustainable industry. I would like to see Seed continue to grow in Tasmania and develop its own autonomy, direction, and take on campaigns such as the one to oppose deforestation in Tasmania.

Zac Romagnoli-Townsend is the state coordinator for Seed

Climate change science, policy making and communication are about to come into sharp focus in Australia with hundreds of international and Australian climate and ocean scientists meeting at the AMOS-ICSMO 2018 Conference in Sydney (5-9 February) and the focus on science at the Imagining a Different Future Conference in Hobart (8-10 February).

It’s a great time to ask what the latest science is telling us about the threat of climate change, what are the challenges for scientists, and why does it seem so hard to get any real action?

Professor Nathan Bindoff, one of Australia’s leading scientists, is speaking at the Imagining a Different Future Conference about the latest ocean science and you can watch him being interviewed last week in sunny Hobart. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hd4m2IOnD8k&t=52s

Other speakers in the Hobart Conference will focus on science and knowledge: for example, scepticism and attributing responsibity for extreme weather events (David Coady and Richard Corry from the University of Tasmania). We will also have contributions from scientists such as Sivan Kartha, James Risbey and Mel Fitzpatrick. David Holmes from Monash University (who will fly down from AMOS in Sydney) will, on Saturday, discuss what role the media have played in polarising views on climate change in Australia. We also have a great panel on geo-engineering on Friday afternoon: see our blog:https://www.climatejustice.network/blog/2018/1/29/geoengineering-a-different-future

We will be following the discussions in Sydney closely and having our own lively conversations in Hobart! 

Nathan Bindoff is Professor of Physical Oceanography at the University of Tasmania in the Institute of Marine and Antarctic Studies (IMAS) and Antarctic Climate & Ecosystems Cooperative Research Centre. Professor Bindoff specialises in ocean climate and the earth’s climate system, with a focus on understanding the causes of change in the oceans. He was the coordinating lead author for the ocean chapter in the Inter-Governmental Panel on Climate Change Fourth Assessment Report and Fifth Assessment reports.

Professor Bindoff and colleagues documented some of the first evidence for changes in the oceans in the Indian, North Pacific, South Pacific and Southern Ocean’s and the first evidence of changes in the Earths hydrological cycle from ocean salinity. His most recent work is on documenting the decline in oxygen content of the oceans and dynamics of the Southern Ocean.

The Australian Meteorological and Oceanographic Society and the American Meteorological Society meet at the Joint 25th AMOS National Conference and 12th International Conference for Southern Hemisphere Meteorology and Oceanography, AMOS-ICSHMO 2018, at UNSW Sydney from 5 to 9 February 2018.

There is a public forum on Tuesday in Sydney about Myth-Busting Climate Change https://www.eventbrite.com.au/e/amos-free-public-forum-myth-busting-climate-change-tickets-42020293830?aff=mcivte

You can follow AMOS at https://www.amos-icshmo2018.com.au/

You can follow Hobart at www.climatejustice.network

Jan Linehan

Professor Nathan Bindoff