Geopolitical and economic reality is overwhelming climate policies. When economies tighten, climate takes a backseat.
Biden poured billions into renewables, but Trump is flipping the script—slashing EV and clean energy support in favor of fossil fuels. Germany, once the poster child for decarbonization, is shifting focus to security and migration. Billions in climate subsidies are frozen, hydrogen and green steel projects are stalled, and conservatives plan to gut funding, leaving industry on edge.
China just launched its biggest coal-power buildout in a decade. Renewable advocates don’t get it. Intermittent power needs backup, which means more fossil fuels, not less. If renewables can’t stand on their own, what’s the point?
Japan remains hooked on coal and gas, needing a 73% emissions cut by 2035 to meet its stated climate goals; yet AI, data centers, and chip factories push power consumption higher. Argentina and Indonesia are questioning whether the Paris Agreement is worth the cost. Austria’s far-right is pushing climate off the table.
Geopolitics and Economic Pressures Are Moving Climate Policy to the Sidelines
In Europe and OECD countries, climate concerns are being drowned out by more immediate crises—tariffs, trade wars, inflation, and higher energy costs. People want relief, not long-term climate plans. Immigration, crime, and populist battles dominate political debates, while fractured coalitions, fading old-guard parties, and leadership crises make action even harder.
At the recent Munich Security Conference, U.S. Vice President JD Vance made it clear: Europe can’t keep riding on America’s defense budget.
“We have to grow up in that sense and spend much more.”
Translation—Europe needs to step up. That means spending money it doesn’t have. France and Italy—Europe’s largest economies after Germany—are already breaking EU fiscal rules on debt limits. They can’t boost defense spending without slashing other programs. The same goes for Belgium and Greece.
NATO’s Mark Rutte says Europe needs to spend well over 3% of GDP on defense, a shift that would require at least €230 billion more every year—a steep price for nations already stretched thin by energy costs, inflation, and economic stagnation.
Defense spending isn’t optional anymore. Europe either builds its own military or learns to live with the consequences. When survival politics take over, climate goals don’t stand a chance.
Mario Draghi has gone further saying that Europe has neglected funding its own productivity for years. He warned that closing the gap will take €750-800 billion a year.
“The share of investment in GDP would have to rise to levels not seen in Europe since the 1960s and 70s. The effort would be more than double that of the Marshall Plan.”
Europe can’t afford to keep funding programs that don’t drive growth—and unfortunately, climate change falls into that category.
Geopolitical Reality Always Wins
Michael Every argues that economic policy thrives when times are good—when crises hit, realism and economic statecraft take over.
“A more geopolitical world, by definition, should arguably preclude sole reliance on business-as-usual economic or market thinking.”
“One should start by asking what a state’s key interests are in a challenging geopolitical environment; what its grand strategy is; then considering if this can be achieved best with economic policy, or idealist or realist economic statecraft.
Rising energy nationalism, U.S.-China tensions, and supply chain instability mean energy isn’t just an environmental issue—it’s a strategic asset. Nations that ignore this are fooling themselves.
A realistic approach to economic statecraft starts with national interests, not abstract decarbonization goals. In a multipolar world, energy policy is shaped by security concerns and industrial strategy, not wishful thinking. Reality beats idealism every time.
Energy Idealism vs. Reality
The physics of energy matters. Renewables have promise but lack the density, storage, and infrastructure to replace fossil fuels on a political timeline. Betting energy security on wind and solar without a reliable baseload (fossil fuels or nuclear) is energy idealism—and in the real world, idealism doesn’t keep the lights on.
But electricity is only 21% of final energy use—and that’s where the energy transition fantasy really falls apart (Figure 1).
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Mining, shipping, trucking, rail, and militaries run on oil—not solar panels and wind farms. That isn’t changing fast enough to matter, especially when voters care more about paying their bills than cutting emissions.
A Realist Energy Strategy
A geopolitical, realist-driven energy policy doesn’t reject renewables—it just treats them differently.
Scaling up wind and solar requires massive investment in grids, storage, and minerals like lithium, cobalt, and copper. Energy security conflicts with globalized renewable supply chains. Countries swapping oil and gas dependence for Chinese solar panels and battery components are just trading one dependency for another.
When economies tighten, affordability beats emissions targets every time. Geopolitical shocks—Ukraine, Taiwan, Red Sea disruptions—expose the cracks in energy transition plans. This is why fossil fuels remain central to energy security, no matter what the idealists believe.
The Missing Piece: Energy Realism
Energy needs come first—climate targets come second. Think of it like a power law: oil delivers 80% of energy, electricity 20%—which one is more important?
Renewables? Just 15% of that electricity slice. Wind and solar make up just 3% of total energy supply—and they’re not pulling their weight. After decades of waiting for the rookies to deliver, the crowd is done cheering.
In a multipolar, crisis-prone world, energy policy isn’t about ideological commitments to decarbonization—it’s about power and survival.
I don’t say this lightly. I want a livable planet, too. But the last twenty years show that we have to work with reality, not against it. A successful approach to living within planetary boundaries means acknowledging challenges, adapting strategies, and making sure the path forward is not just aspirational—but achievable.
Climate Change is a Failed Paradigm
Climate change is a systemic crisis fueled by carbon emissions from human expansion. That’s a concept—a single idea that explains a phenomenon.
Climate change is a systemic crisis solved by switching to renewables. That’s a paradigm—a system of thought that shapes how we interpret reality and approach solutions.
The concept of climate change is undeniable. The climate change paradigm has failed.
It’s failed because switching to renewables hasn’t reversed rising emissions or temperatures—despite more than $3 trillion spent since 2020 (Figure 2).
Emissions and temperature move together, and renewables haven’t broken that link (Figure 2). Arguing that it could have been worse isn’t convincing.

The data is clear—we’re in deep trouble. Wishful thinking won’t change that.
This is the right paradigm:
Human expansion beyond planetary limits has pushed Earth’s systems to the brink. The solution isn’t just new technology—it’s a fundamental shift in how we think about energy and resources, and how we relate to Nature—and to our own nature.
It’s time to broaden our perspective. Climate change matters, but it’s not the only crisis, nor is it the only thing that matters. Even among those who care about the Earth, few understand how recent and fragile our wealth—our stored energy—really is.
It was a lucky break. About 10,000 years ago, Earth’s climate stabilized just enough to make agriculture possible.That stability created the first real surpluses any species had ever known—and it changed everything for humans.Then came fossil fuels and the carbon pulse, putting our species on steroids.
Now, our impact on Earth’s ecosystems is unraveling the very stability that made civilization possible. Yet some mistakenly believe a hotter world means more abundance—as if higher temperatures alone will lead to more food.
They fail to see the bigger picture. The natural systems that allowed surplus to exist in the first place—stable seasons, predictable rainfall, fertile soils—are finely tuned to the climate we’ve known. Push past that threshold, and surplus turns to scarcity.
Ecosystem collapse, geopolitical instability, wars, and an overextended financial system propped up by unsustainable claims on energy and materials—these crises are not separate, but deeply connected. There are many battles ahead, and climate change isn’t the only one worth fighting.
I don’t know the future, but I do know this: we have to let go of a failed climate paradigm. Renewables weren’t the answer. Depressing? Maybe. But it’s a far better, more honest path than clinging to solutions we already know don’t work.