Student reflections from COP30

Three UNSW Law & Justice students worked alongside government officials under significant pressure at COP30, providing legal expertise in one of the most complex international policy environments.

COP30 was marked by late-night negotiations, intricate legal texts and major announcements. For the students, it was a unique opportunity to see international law in action and understand the realities of global climate diplomacy.

Masters of Laws student Alice Edle Von Lendenfeld reflected on the contradictions she observed at COP30. 

“While speeches highlighted the urgency of global cooperation, negotiations were often inefficient and even hostile,” she said. “Yet, civil society and industry showed real passion and innovation for climate solutions. It was an intense learning experience that revealed the challenges of finding consensus among 194 parties.”

For Maggie Bell, a third-year Juris Doctor (JD) student on exchange from UC Law San Francisco, the experience underscored the grit required in international diplomacy. 

“Being in the rooms where climate action is negotiated gave me a deep respect for the negotiators,” she said. “Watching textual iterations and hearing parties debate red lines helped me understand the complexity of driving progress on this critical issue.”

Fourth-year Bachelor of Laws (LLB) student Tom David described the experience as transformative, saying it gave him “exceptional insight into the work of negotiators and the legal, social and political influences that motivate actors within the international climate framework.” 

Working with Fiji, he said, was particularly rewarding because it showed him “where issues of climate meet issues of international law.”

Student Reflections

On Politics, Multilateralism, and the Uneasy Path to a Just Transition

Jule Alice von Lendenfeld
Master of Laws (University of New South Wales) (2025)

Going into COP30 I did not expect harmony or grand breakthroughs. I came expecting messy logistics, political manoeuvring, clashing interests and long and exhausting negotiations – and that is largely what I found. Still, witnessing it all from inside the negotiation rooms in Belém shifted my understanding of climate diplomacy in ways I hadn’t anticipated. I knew the process would be messy, but I hadn’t realised how deeply human, strategic and historically charged it would be until I was sitting behind the Fiji flag, watching the delegates negotiate.

COP30 took place during one of the most geopolitically tense periods since the establishment of UNFCCC. The negotiations reflected some of these tensions. 

The Paradox of Multilateralism

In theory, multilateralism is about collaboration and compromise, to peacefully address shared goals or challenges. Yet more and more people question whether the UNFCCC’s slow consensus-based process can deliver climate solutions within the timeframe science demands – particularly when the world’s biggest emitter chose not to participate.

Nevertheless, despite its imperfections, multilateralism remains one of the few spaces where countries sit together as formal equals, regardless of size, wealth or power. Yes, the process (and progress) is slow. But without it climate action would be even slower - or at least more fragmented.

The EU’s Carbon Border Adjustment Mechanisms (CBAM) is an example of what climate action could look like without the UNFCCC. CBAM puts a carbon price on imports of certain emission intensive goods to match the cost domestic EU producers pay under the EU’s carbon market. It was developed to prevent carbon leakage, stop unfair competition and encourage clean production and carbon pricing - using the power of trade. 

Yet developing countries have criticised CBAM. They view it as green protectionism that disadvantages countries that lack the resources to measure or reduce emissions. 

Perhaps this is the paradox: multilateralism is both insufficient and indispensable.

What struck me was how much of climate diplomacy is shaped not by science but by domestic politics, economic structures and historic injustices. Countries speak passionately about ambition, but only as long as ambition aligns with their economy, energy security, domestic politics, and development plans. This conflict between necessary climate action and political reality unfolded in every negotiation I watched.

The Human Side of Negotiations

Another eye-opening part was the human side of the negotiations. I had expected the process to be highly technical and professional. The professionality was diminished by the chaotic logistics, and at times the happenings in the meetings were incredibly human. Delegates made jokes, rolled their eyes, whispered frustrations, got distracted, or played prediction games about which argument other countries would use. Interestingly, some countries would speak in every session while others remained largely passive. The process underlined the influence individual negotiators' personality and passion for climate (or the lack of it) can have on the outcomes of negotiations. In the UNFCCC process the power isn’t necessarily with the biggest economies. Consensus also benefits the Small Island States, that would otherwise likely be easily overlooked. 

All these traits were observed in the Just Transition Work Programme, which was the main area I followed. In principle, parties agreed in idealistic speeches that the energy transition needs to be fair and inclusive and mustn’t leave anyone behind. Yet further meetings proved how difficult it is to define “justice” when looking at it from 194 different cultural, historical and economic perspectives. For Small Island States like Fiji, justice means survival. For fossil-fuel dependent economies, it means the right to development and energy sovereignty. For Indigenous peoples, it means guaranteeing land rights, consent, and protection from exploitative mineral extraction. For developed countries it means managing job losses and energy security.

The Outcomes

By the end of the two weeks, countries agreed on establishing a working mechanism on a just transition to coordinate support, capacity building and technology transfer. However, to nobody’s surprise but much disappointment, there was failure to agree on phasing out fossil fuels. As one negotiator put it: “There is no mitigation if we cannot discuss phasing out fossil fuels.” That is the other side of consensus - it also benefits those states blocking agreement on necessary climate action. 

Despite knowing that any other expectations would have been naive, my frustration remained. Still, Belém helped me better understand the structural inequalities behind colonial legacies, economic dependencies and development gaps that hinder progress more clearly. 

For me, the most inspiring part of COP30 was happening outside the negotiation rooms. At side events, pavilions, press conferences and protests I saw genuine ambition, creativity and hope. Indigenous leaders, youth activists, engineers, farmers, scientists, financiers and faith groups shared experiences and practical solutions. These events showed that real change rarely starts in negotiation rooms, but in communities, institutions, businesses and movements. 

Thus, despite all the frustration I didn’t walk away hopeless. Above all, COP30 taught me that multilateralism isn’t where climate action starts, but where it’s formalised. It can accelerate change but people bring it into existence.

Climate Diplomacy, Small Island States, and the American Absence

Maggie Bell
3rd year Juris Doctor (JD) student exchange from UC Law San Francisco

Attending COP30 in Belém, Brazil, has been a transformative experience—one that bridged the theoretical foundations of my legal education with the urgent realities of international climate diplomacy. 

As an intern with the UNSW Centre for Sustainable Development Reform, I had the extraordinary opportunity to serve as a party delegate for the Republic of Palau, supporting one of the world's most climate-vulnerable nations at my first United Nations climate conference. What unfolded over two intense weeks has fundamentally reshaped my understanding of how international law operates and illuminated the critical stakes for global climate negotiations.

Inside the Negotiating Rooms

My role centered on two substantial agenda items: the Gender Action Plan and the broader gender-related conversations under the UNFCCC framework, alongside monitoring discussions on the Global Goal on Adaptation (GGA). 

The Gender Action Plan work involved navigating the intricate path from informal consultations to formal negotiations. All the while tracking how language evolves and consensus builds—or falters—around issues of gender equity in climate action. Simultaneously,the GGA negotiations provided insight into how countries measure and report adaptation progress. This revealed  the complex technical and political dimensions underlying what might seem like straightforward climate commitments.

Beyond these assigned portfolios, I immersed myself in understanding the legal architecture being constructed at COP30. Of particular significance was the discourse surrounding the International Court of Justice Advisory Opinion on climate obligations under international law. The AOSIS coordination meetings revealed the strategic calculations at play: parties debated whether to push for formal recognition of the ICJ opinion's binding nature, weighing the legal and political implications. Some delegation members expressed concern that introducing a second binding source might dilute commitments under the Paris Agreement, while others worried about alienating parties who might shut down crucial negotiations on other issues. These deliberations exposed how climate diplomacy requires not just legal acumen but sophisticated political judgment about when to advance legal arguments and when to prioritize diplomatic progress.

The American Void

Attending COP30 as an American added an unexpected dimension to my experience. Despite working for the Palauan delegation, I felt acutely aware of the absence left by the Trump administration's decision not to send official U.S. delegates. The void was palpable in negotiating rooms and corridors alike. While no one expected American climate leadership given the administration's stance, its absence nonetheless shifted the dynamics of key negotiations in tangible ways. The United States typically plays a convening role in climate negotiations—not only articulating firm positions but also organizing informal consultations that build consensus among different countries before formal sessions. Without the American influence, other countries were left scrambling to recalibrate their strategies, seemingly uncertain whether to advance more ambitious positions or adopt more conservative stances in the absence of their usual reference point. The leadership that the United States has historically provided—however imperfect—was distinctly missed. 

For small island developing states like Palau, which face existential threats from climate change largely caused by historical emissions from wealthy nations, the American retreat underscored the fragility of the multilateralist system. Witnessing this from the perspective of a Pacific island delegation while carrying my own American identity created a profound sense of dissonance and responsibility. It reinforced why international climate law must evolve to ensure that the most vulnerable nations are not left to navigate these crises alone when political winds shift in major emitting countries.

Small Islands, Hard Work

The dedication and resilience of Small Island State negotiators left an indelible impression. Palau operates with a delegation of only eight party members, yet these representatives attended sessions from early morning until late evening, day after day, fighting for their nation's survival. The contrast between their limited resources and the scale of their climate challenges illustrated the profound inequities embedded in our current system. These negotiators aren't merely discussing abstract policy—they're defending their homes, cultures, and futures against rising seas and intensifying storms. Observing their persistence and strategic skill deepened my respect for the professionals engaged in international diplomacy and highlighted the grit required to operate effectively within these multilateral frameworks.

As I return from Belém, I carry both exhaustion and exhilaration. COP30 has been challenging, overwhelming, and deeply rewarding. It confirmed my commitment to working at the intersection of law and climate justice, and strengthened my resolve to continue learning how legal tools can be wielded to protect the world's most vulnerable communities.

Insight into Consensus

Tom David
4th year student UNSW Law & Justice

The United Nations’ 30th meeting of the Conference of the Parties (COP30) was recently held in Belem, Brazil. The final adopted decision included a commitment to triple adaptation finance by 2035, the approval of a just transition mechanism and a Gender Action Plan. However, it was not without late controversy. There was no consensus to include a commitment to transition away from fossil fuels in the final text, and fierce objections during the closing plenary from Columbia and others.

As a fourth-year undergraduate student at UNSW Law, I had the privilege to attend COP30 under a government badge, my first COP. I worked with a small island delegation and tracked issues of adaptation. My primary tasks were to assist with the delegation’s engagement across priority work streams, through tasks such as line-by-line notetaking and comparative textual analysis. This included the creation of comparison tables to track text progression over the two weeks.

This was a fantastic opportunity, which gave me an unparalleled insight into the negotiation room – observing how the decision texts were created, as opposed to what was achieved. A key theme being that international law is shaped by the practical realities of diplomacy.

Behind the law is a person

An important point to emphasise is the role of individual personalities. Technical details matter. Whether a negotiator decides to read a pre-written statement for ten minutes or address another party’s previous point in two sentences affects the momentum of the negotiation. 

Parties may both be disadvantaged through unclear, longwinded and confusing delivery of points; as well as be advantaged from that very same lack of clarity. 

Another consideration is the career of the person negotiating. They could be a public servant whose job is primarily engaged in domestic climate projects and resource challenges require their presence at COP.  Alternatively, they could be an ambitious public servant whose time in the UNFCCC process is a launchpad for an international posting. Perhaps, they are a career negotiator, adept in the art of negotiation, but not necessarily the technicalities of climate.

Resource constraints also affect negotiations. Particularly an issue at COP30, some smaller delegations could not get accommodation close to the venue and had to travel over an hour each way. Compare this to other delegations who could pre-book entire hotels. Consider this in combination with other factors such as food court waiting times, poorly functioning air conditioning and negotiations that stretch into the late-evening. It is not hard to believe that this would affect a negotiator’s focus, ability or agreeability. 

Diplomacy not advocacy

People being at the heart of negotiation is also a significant advantage. Posturing is common. Whilst intuitively inefficient, I also saw its benefits. The repetition in messaging by all parties with phrases such as ‘we are committed to action’  reinforced solidarity and enfranchised parties. Understandably, what ‘action’ looks like is as ambiguous as it sounds.

Interestingly, this does not amount to disbelief or scepticism in the science. I was struck that almost every sentence spoken connected to an area already legally agreed to, such as the Paris Agreement, or to a scientific assessment from the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change. The trust in the institutional frameworks was very high, and it seemed that every contribution had to be ‘legitimised’ in some way. In this way, I saw the negotiations had greater similarity to how submissions are made within a domestic court, as opposed to how a ‘climate-related’ political debate may play in the public sphere.

While there may be common offenders which frequently object or derail at the political level – inside the negotiating room there are not necessarily ‘good’ and ‘bad’ guys.  But rather, we have different parties with different interests. 

Parties’ and negotiators do not want to be embarrassed. I observed skilful arguments to reason for their country’s large emissions or their case to receive finance - admittedly some required a degree of mental gymnastics. For example, a relatively large emitter, made the case that their ‘technology is old’, skilfully leaving the implication that with international finance they could transition.

Trust—both personal and between institutions—plays a big role here. Regular meetings and review systems have helped create a culture where all countries can participate and compromise over time. A small nation can speak just as long and clearly as a large one. But I also saw a less benevolent side of diplomacy. Countries must be extremely careful about being held accountable. I observed that even a gentle suggestion that one country might be at fault could stall the whole negotiation and trigger formal complaints. I also saw paragraphs that had been negotiated in large multilateral sessions for hours over several days suddenly removed from the text.

Red lines

All the previous elements referred to  need to funnel into a decision. I believe ‘red lines’ is a significant component to this funnel. The consensus driven process, as opposed to a majority vote, is often criticised as reducing outcomes to the ambition of the least-ambition country. Negotiations seemed to follow a system of working out what others could not live with. The notes I wrote would be used to decipher the appetite of a country including whether a certain paragraph is a red line. What is left after a series of dodging red lines is a package deal. Parties’ highlighted their own ‘compromise’ and called others to do the same. By the time a text was fine-tuned, it had to go to the ministerial level where politics would dictate the final outcome. Seemingly it is a system of incrementalism and windows of opportunity.

For all its faults, the consensus based system of COP30 had 194 delegations turn up. The reliance of previous decisions, treaties and reports to incrementally shift negotiations, and at the same time enfranchise all parties, reaffirms my faith in multilateralism and leads me to believe that a consensus-based system remains the best system we have for the COP.