IMO has just agreed to start charging ships for the greenhouse gases they emit. (Image: unsplash)
The UN’s International Maritime Organization has just agreed to start charging ships for the greenhouse gases they emit. After decades of ineffective incremental tweaks to shipping emissions, the breakthrough came on April 11 at a summit in London. It makes shipping the first industry subject to a worldwide – and legally binding – emissions price.
The positive spin is that getting any sort of deal is a major win for multilateral climate action, especially considering two strong headwinds.
From within the meeting, there was sustained opposition to ambitious action from Saudi Arabia and other petrostates, as well as from China and Brazil. Second, the US had already disengaged from negotiations. Even so, from outside the meeting, the US administration’s tariff war and explicit threat to retaliate against states supporting a shipping pricing regime could have affected talks far more than they did.
But we’re not sure that this agreement can be considered a success. While there is little traditional climate change denial at the IMO, “mitigation denial” is alive and kicking. Mitigation denial means making lofty promises, often in line with scientific evidence, but not adopting concrete measures able to deliver on these targets. This is exactly what petrostates pushed the IMO to do last week.
Ultimately, the IMO has well and truly failed the most climate vulnerable, by favouring a more gradual and less certain transition to low-carbon shipping. It’s even effectively making these countries pay the price.
What are the measures?
The IMO agreement introduces a global fuel standard for shipping, with financial penalties for ships that don’t meet emissions targets. This is effectively a carbon-trading scheme.
It sets two targets, both of which get tougher every year: a “base” level and a stricter “direct compliance” level. Ships that miss the direct target have to buy “remedial units”, and more expensive ones if they also fail the base level. Ships that go beyond their targets earn “surplus units”, which they can trade or save for up to two years.
In practice, this means that the companies and countries that can invest in new technologies will earn a double dividend: they won’t pay for emissions and they will receive rewards for using low-emission fuels.
At the same time, countries and shipping companies lacking the means to invest will effectively subsidise those early movers by paying penalties that reward them. Hardly any revenues will be available for the promised “just and equitable” transition that would ensure no country is left behind. No wonder nearly all delegates from vulnerable Pacific nations abstained from the vote at the IMO.
For a typical ship burning heavy fuel oil in 2028, it works out at around US$25 (£19) per tonne of greenhouse gas. That’s far lower than needed to drive a rapid transition to cleaner fuels. We also still don’t know exactly how the money raised will be used.
Delegates also agreed to update the IMO’s “carbon intensity” policy, which now requires ships to be 21.5% more fuel efficient by 2030 compared to 2019. This is a modest 2.5% improvement per year.
Pacific island states and the UK were among those arguing for bigger cuts (up to 47%). China pushed for 15% and the EU proposed the surprisingly low 23%. The final result of 21.5% is a bad compromise that does not reflect scientific recommendations on meeting the IMO’s goals or what is possible with available technology.
Climate action at the IMO
This geopolitical struggle goes back decades. Following the adoption of the Kyoto protocol (a precursor of the Paris agreement) in 1997, the UN tasked the IMO with reducing shipping emissions. After two decades of little progress, in 2018 the IMO eventually set a weak target to cut emissions by 50% from 2008 levels. In 2023, that goal was strengthened to net-zero emissions “by or around 2050”, with interim targets of 20-30% cuts by 2030 and 70-80% by 2040.
Most importantly, the 2023 strategy also committed to adopting legally binding measures in April 2025 to deliver on these targets. This has now happened.
In light of that history, the new measures do constitute progress. However, their success has to be judged on whether they can actually meet the IMO’s targets.
The 2030 goal is especially important as climate damage is proportional to cumulative emissions over time, so it’s important to cut emissions as soon as possible. If the shipping sector misses its 2030 target, it may have emitted too much carbon to still make a fair contribution to the Paris agreement.
Academics at UCL have analysed the new IMO agreement. Unfortunately, they calculated the new policies will only deliver a 10% reduction by 2030 – that’s not even close to the 20% goal the IMO set, let alone the “strive” target of 30%.
Mitigation denial?
At the IMO’s closing meeting, Harry Conway, chair of its Marine Environment Protection Committee, held up a glass of water and remarked that at the start of the week, the glass was empty, now the glass is half full.
As political spin, that image might work. But when it comes to setting a clear and ambitious path forward, the measures fall well short.
The 2023 strategy committed nations to “strive” to deliver 30% emissions cuts by 2030. Last week’s meeting might yield 10%. Another reason why Pacific delegates abstained from voting. There is a lot more striving – and delivering – to be done.
A credible pathway to reach net-zero by 2050 is now at risk. Strong pushback by the US, Saudi Arabia, China and Brazil, and weak leadership from the EU all played a role. Even adopting these modest measures – which requires a vote in October – and specifying operational “guidelines” afterwards will be an uphill battle.
Christiaan De Beukelaer, Senior Lecturer in Culture & Climate, The University of Melbourne and Simon Bullock, Research Associate, Shipping and Climate Change, University of Manchester
This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.