
Last year we interviewed climate modellers, diplomats and international negotiators, and civil society organisations (including fieldwork in Nigeria, and at the UN Environment Assembly in Kenya). Our aim was to better understand the emerging politics of geoengineering by putting the technical models and designs back into the hurly-burly of global climate politics.
Our interviews highlighted how modelling studies tend to overlook three simple – but surprisingly consequential – facts about the world: that it is divided up into many different political units, that it is a highly unequal place, and that most people do not care solely about material outcomes when thinking about whether an intervention is unjust or unfair.
Once such factors are brought into consideration it becomes clear – as so often in political contestation – that disagreements are not simply the product of incomplete information. They also reflect clashing world-views and interests. Where you stand depends on where you sit.
Where you sit
This was evident at the negotiations at the 2019 United Nations Environmental Assembly in Nairobi. Here, an initial proposal for a UN study of geoengineering governance was discussed. This was a modest – but short lived – idea. In the face of continued opposition, primarily from the US and Saudi Arabia, the proposal had to be withdrawn. Speaking to and observing the negotiators and NGOs, we saw how their different understandings of what governance should achieve – and what geoengineering even was – made it impossible to agree on any form of governance whatsoever.
We identified three different versions of the geoengineering imaginary. Let’s call them the thermostat, the empire and the paradox.
In Nairobi, we found that some state representatives appeared to be informed mostly by the artificial world of geoengineering models, and therefore considered geoengineering a technical matter that, once ‘proven’ to work in this idealised world, could be safely deployed by policymakers as a ‘global thermostat’ a means to combat global warming as such, independent of historical and social context. These representatives were typically the least favourable towards regulatory governance, believing that more research and development of geoengineering was desirable and should not be constrained.
Others, including many from the global South, situated geoengineering squarely in their experiences of vast global inequalities and starkly different exposure to climate risk. They tended to be extremely sceptical about geoengineering, expecting that it would entrench existing power relations and let actors such as fossil fuel companies carry on with business-as-usual. Some compared it to the history of empire (‘taking control of our rain’) and even sought a pre-emptive ban on geoengineering. Those who did not reject geoengineering entirely called for strict regulation by international bodies.
Others, from both global North and South including several European governments and NGOs, highlighted technical and political uncertainty. In particular, they wanted to thoroughly examine potential side-effects. They typically took a more pragmatic – and precautionary – line towards the idea of geoengineering. The idea of geoengineering was deeply paradoxical – with both potential benefits and risks. Not ready to reject it entirely, they emphasised the need for strong governance and for bringing in a rich diversity of views and sources of knowledge when evaluating geoengineering proposals. Amongst other concerns, they were particularly worried that pursuit of geoengineering without such protections would harm efforts to cut emissions.
Far from cutting the Gordian knot of climate politics, geoengineering potentially adds extra coils. Three problems in particular stand out.
Three problems
First, achieving any form of regulation of geoengineering at a global level is likely to be extremely difficult, requiring protections that go well beyond the idea of ‘winners’ compensating ‘losers’ (a principle that has yet to be delivered in negotiations over climate mitigation and adaptation). Given this, some states might develop and deploy geoengineering unilaterally – they may want to act urgently in the face of catastrophic climate, or they might want to protect their interests in keeping the fossil economy going. Such an intervention would ignore the views of most of the world’s population, including those most vulnerable to the impacts of geoengineering.
Second, unequal power relations on the international stage would mean that the most powerful and wealthy states (who we found were more likely to be influenced by the idealised world of scientific modelling) could pressure other states to accept inadequate global governance that would not duly reflect the global diversity of concerns and demands.
Thirdly, geoengineering may not even work as an insurance policy, or to ‘buy time’. Policies are not simply additive, but interact in complex ways. Promises of geoengineering would complicate vital climate negotiations about cutting emissions. Instead of buying time, it could harm international capacity to cooperate, just as we see in the Coronacrisis.












