As dozens of heads of state arrived in Azerbaijan for the annual United Nations climate talks this week, one absent world leader’s name was on everyone’s lips. At press conference after press conference, questions arose about the election of Donald Trump. The U.S. president-elect has threatened to pull the United States out of the landmark Paris climate agreement—for a second time—and slow down the country’s transition to renewable energy.
The Biden administration has tried to project confidence in the early days of the conference, known as COP29, given the country’s status as the world’s largest economy and second-largest emitter of planet-warming carbon. At a packed-house presser on the conference’s first day, President Joe Biden’s senior climate advisor, John Podesta, said he expected many of Biden’s clean energy achievements—which are projected to put the U.S. within close reach of its international climate commitments—will endure a second Trump administration. He added that the U.S. will still release a document detailing its updated plan to do its part to limit global warming below the 2 degrees Celsius threshold outlined in the 2015 Paris Agreement, as required under that treaty.
“The work to contain climate change is going to continue in the United States with commitment and passion and belief,” he said.
But other signs at the conference suggest that the U.S. has already receded from a starring role in the fight against climate change. Developing countries have long criticized the U.S. as an obstacle to major climate agreements, in particular on the issue of overseas aid to help poor countries fund their energy transitions and protect themselves from climate-fueled natural disasters. Establishing a new global goal for this sort of international aid is the main agenda item for this year’s conference, but the center of gravity in negotiations has clearly shifted away from the U.S. and toward Europe, China, and the dozens of developing countries pushing for a big increase in international assistance.
Even Canada, which just announced a $1.5 billion program to help the world’s most vulnerable countries pursue climate adaptation projects, is beginning to outshine the U.S. on this issue. Likewise, the headline item from the first day of the conference—an arcane spat over the implications of the agenda structure, which pitted a bloc of developing countries against the European Union over the latter’s carbon tariff system—did not feature the U.S. in a starring role.
In a gaggle with reporters on the second day of the conference, White House climate czar Ali Zaidi seemed to acknowledge a diminished U.S. role in climate talks. He vowed that the Biden administration would continue working toward an ambitious international finance goal, but he admitted that climate-conscious Americans may want to “look for other countries to step up to the plate” during the Trump administration.
“We may have less to offer in terms of a projection of leadership certainty,” he said.
Perhaps the clearest indication of the diminished U.S. role in the global climate puzzle is the maze of national pavilions that sprawls across the conference venue at the Baku Olympic Stadium. The U.S. national pavilion is one of the most humble in the entire complex: a plain white room with white chairs, white desks, a television screen, and no other decorations save a single potted plant and a few foam-board posters.
The Kazakhstan pavilion next door, by contrast, has a massive light-up display with the country’s name and a stage on risers surrounded by handsome blond wood. The United Kingdom pavilion has a free, full-service cappuccino bar and a full-size model depicting London’s signature red telephone booths. The Brazil pavilion is embowered in tropical foliage and features a display of baskets by traditional artisans. In the home-country pavilion of Azerbaijan, waitstaff serve fresh tea on demand.
“You’re not the first person to say this,” said a member of the U.S. delegation when Grist mentioned the apparent lack of effort put into his country’s pavilion. The member said he was “shocked” when he first saw the space, and he added that a more ambitious effort would have helped “show that we care.”
This article originally appeared in Grist, a nonprofit, independent media organization dedicated to telling stories of climate solutions and a just future. Sign up for its newsletter here.