On August 26, 2026, a catastrophic flash flood swept down from the Bhote Koshi River near the Nepal-Tibet border, tearing through Rasuwa, Nuwakot, and Dhading districts in Nepal and destroying entire villages within minutes, leaving thousands missing and hundreds dead. This account is by Dikshya Subedi, a local in Kathmandu who has spent the past seven years working in climate advocacy across the Himalayan region. She is the country lead at SHE Changes Climate and founder of the youth-led organization Youth Action For Sustainable and Eco Nepal (YASEN), and writes here as someone whose own family was directly affected by the disaster.

That Wednesday morning started like any other. At around 9:30 AM, I saw the first news of a massive flood in Rasuwa, the beautiful mountainous district on the Tibet border. Lined with brightly coloured houses and where the Bhote Koshi River enters Nepal, Rasuwa is located a few hours from Kathmandu. Feeling confused and unsettled, I scrolled on, the way we sometimes do when something feels too big to look at directly. A few minutes later, my eyes landed on Facebook again, and this time the news was impossible to scroll past. The flash flood had hit  Devighat, Nuwakot, a quiet riverside town further downstream where my husband was born and grew up in, the place that held his entire childhood.

I called my aunt, who lives in Nuwakot. Her voice on the phone was shaking, terrified. “Nothing is left,” she told me. “Everything is destroyed.” Somehow, my uncle, aunt, and brother Manzil Rimal managed to evacuate from that flooded area just before the massive flood.  But that phone call broke something in me. The place where we used to visit my husband’s hometown for festivals, where we gathered as a family, where his memories live, turned into mud in ten minutes.

An aerial view shows houses covered in mud after flash floods at Devighat, Nepal’s Nuwakot district. Photo: Dikshya Subedi

I’ve worked in climate advocacy for several years. I’ve explained flood risks to government officials, helped authorities understand the danger maps for glacial lakes, and used the phrase “climate crisis” more times than I can count. But watching the impacts of the climate crisis arrive at your own doorstep, was beyond anything I could have imagined. I have spent years telling other people this could happen to them. I never imagined I would be the one making the phone call, listening to my aunt’s voice break on the other end.

There is a saying in Nepal: disaster won’t come by making noise. On that Wednesday, the people of Rasuwa, Nuwakot, and Dhading learned exactly how true that is. And so did I, not as an advocate this time, but as a daughter-in-law of that soil.

What happened

A sudden, catastrophic flash flood surged in from the Bhote Koshi River near the Nepal-China border on the morning of August 26. It tore downstream through Timure, Syaphrubeshi, and Betrawati in Rasuwa district, sweeping away entire villages within an hour. The floodwaters continued down the Trishuli River corridor, devastating communities further downstream in the districts of Nuwakot and Dhading. Devighat, my husband’s village, was severely affected.

Floodwaters caused severe devastation in Devighat. Photo: Dikshya Subedi

While the exact cause is still being investigated, scientists have traced the flood back to an over 2,000-foot-wide (approx. 600 meters) chunk of glacier that sheared off high in the Himalayas and plunged 7,000 feet (over 2 kms) into the Lhende Khola a tributary of the Bhote Koshi River, sending a flood wave downstream at speeds of up to 193 km/h. This is exactly the kind of event climate change triggers. Warming shrinks glaciers and makes them more likely to break apart. 

The death toll from the devastating Bhote Koshi flood in Rasuwa has reached 939, while 3,925 people remain out of contact, according to the latest update from National Disaster Risk Reduction and Management Authority (NDRRMA). The highest number of bodies, 279, was recovered in Chitwan, followed by 216 in Nawalparasi Purba, 169 in Nawalparasi Paschim, 95 in Nuwakot, 65 in Gorkha, 55 in Dhading, 38 in Tanahun, and 23 in Rasuwa. Search and rescue teams, along with relief and medical response units, are still working around the clock. The government has set up dedicated teams for rescue, relief, health, communications, and infrastructure restoration, but the scale of destruction will take a long time to fully understand, let alone recover from.

The floodwaters along with mud and debris completely destroy homes, reaching levels above the rooftops. Photo: Dikshya Subedi

This is personal

For me, this is not something I am following from a distance through headlines. My husband’s home is in Devighat, Nuwakot, one of the places hit hardest. My uncle, aunt, and brother were there and saw the destruction with their own eyes: houses swept away, communities losing almost everything in a matter of minutes. Thankfully, my close relatives are safe. We have not lost anyone in our own family. But we have lost our house and factory, which is the main source of income that my parents and Uncle Aunt took many years to built on is swept away in  seconds. The place where we held countless family gatherings, where all of my husband’s childhood memories live, no longer exists.

Caption: Dikshya’s husband’s family home, buried under mud and debris from the flood. Photo: Dikshya Subedi

The reports coming out of Devighat now are hard to read. A village once known for its bustling market and Jalpa Devi temple one of the very popular temple is buried under mud so complete that only the upper floors of houses still break the surface – uprooted trees flung onto rooftops, electric pylons snapped like twigs. Search teams there are still pulling bodies from collapsed homes, working through mud so thick that sometimes all that’s visible of a victim is a foot. Survivors who’ve come back describe standing in the wreckage of houses they spent their whole lives building, with nothing left to salvage but the clothes on their backs, unsure whether the land is even safe to rebuild on. Watching what has happened to our neighbors, to the village that shaped my husband’s childhood, is heartbreaking in a way I don’t fully have words for.

The destruction left in Devighat in the aftermath of the flood. Photo: Dikshya Subedi

This is the part that people rarely talk about when they discuss climate advocacy: the work is never as abstract as it looks from the outside. I have spent years building the language – resilience, adaptation, loss and damage – that is supposed to help policymakers understand disasters like this one. Advocacy taught me the facts. This flood taught me what the facts actually cost.

Houses in Devighat left destroyed as mud and debris reach rooftops. Photo: Dikshya Subedi

It’s not climate change anymore; it’s a climate emergency

This disaster is a brutal reminder that climate change is not something we can keep filing away as a threat for later. We are already living its consequences here in the Himalayas. 

Global heating is melting the permafrost, the “glue” that holds our mountains together, and that’s raising the risk of glacier collapse more and more likely. A survey published within a day of this flood has now mapped over 3,600 glacial lakes across our river basins, 47 of them classified as potentially dangerous, and this one wasn’t even on the list, because the lake that burst didn’t exist the morning before. That’s how fast this hazard is moving.

Climate change makes flashfloods like the one above in Nuwakot more likely due to glacier collapse triggered by global heating. Photo: Dikshya Subedi

What makes this especially unjust is the imbalanced cruelty of who pays: Nepal is responsible for roughly 0.1% of global greenhouse gas emissions, yet it ranks among the 10 countries most affected by climate change on the Global Climate Risk Index. Nepal’s finance minister, Swarnim Wagle, has put the initial rebuilding cost at US$4–5 billion, nearly a tenth of the country’s entire economy. But that estimate assumes this is a one-time cost. It isn’t. With the region’s glaciers and permafrost continuing to destabilize, a disaster like this one is not a low-probability outlier, it is the shape of what is coming again.

There is still room for hope

In the middle of all this grief, something has genuinely moved me: the response of young people.Within a day, young volunteers across Nepal had organized themselves into the Rasuwa Relief Group, tracking who was missing, making sure support reached those who needed it, even volunteering for risky ground operations. 

Locals and volunteers provide support and rescue in Devighat after the flood. Photo: Dikshya Subedi

I’ve sat in plenty of meetings where “youth engagement” was just a line on someone’s agenda, a box to check before the real decisions happened elsewhere. Watching this unfold in real time, I don’t need convincing anymore. No one assigned these young people this responsibility: they simply took it on, faster than any ministry could move, because these were their families too.

It doesn’t erase my grief. But it has given me hope.It’s proof that the years I spent showing up to advocate for the climate as it affects young people,did build something – a generation that doesn’t wait to be asked.

Things need to change now

The flood that took my husband’s hometown moved at 193 kilometers an hour. We need to move faster. And for that, we need three things:

1. Disaster preparedness and management: Climate response and preparedness cannot be the thing we get to eventually. It has to come first, before the next village disappears. We need early-warning systems, climate-resilient infrastructure, and locally led preparedness for the mountain communities already living with this risk.
2. Locally led adaptation: Youth and affected communities must be given real, resourced roles in local adaptation and early-warning planning, not token invitations after the mourning has begun. 
3. Real climate finance: Wealthy nations, most responsible for the climate crisis, need to stop treating funding as a favor delivered on their own timeline. Nepal needs that money now, not at the next summit. It needs to come as genuine compensation, not charity, and paid out as grants rather than loans that burden our country. It must reach impacted families directly and fast.

This isn’t a wish list; it’s the difference between a village saved in time and one that isn’t. My husband’s hometown is already gone. What we do next decides how many more we can save.

Dikshya in Devighat. Photo: Dikshya Subedi

“Yesterday, this was a climate and disaster story in the news; today, it is a story happening at my family’s doorstep. But the people of Rasuwa, Nuwakot, and Dhading are still here, still fighting, still helping each other. Let’s unite to rebuild together. 

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A fifth of the world’s oil passes through a strait just 55km wide. Right now, that strait is closed, and it’s not the only one. For most of us, the Strait of Hormuz, the Panama Canal and the Bab el-Mandeb Strait are names we half-remembered from a geography lesson. But right now, all three of these critical shipping lanes, plus the Suez Canal and the South China Sea straits, are under simultaneous strain. And the causes aren’t separate stories. War, the climate crisis and a strong El Niño are compounding each other, squeezing the narrow waterways that carry the fuel, food and goods the world runs on.

That’s the warning at the heart of a report from the climate think tank E3G, Beyond Securing Supply. It makes a case that should worry anyone who cares about a just, liveable future: the world’s energy system isn’t just fragile because of any one crisis. It’s fragile because a small number of choke points now have to absorb war, sabotage, congestion and climate breakdown, often at the same time and there’s no cushion left when several hit at once.

Three narrow waterways, one overstretched system

The Strait of Hormuz. Just 55km wide at its narrowest point, this single passage between Iran and Oman normally carries roughly a quarter of the world’s seaborne oil and a fifth of its LNG. Since the outbreak of the 2026 war between Iran, the US and Israel, the strait has been effectively shut to commercial shipping. Attacks on tankers pushed war-risk insurance premiums up as much as fourfold, and freight rates on the key Gulf-to-Asia route jumped over 300% almost overnight. Oil and gas prices spiked globally within days, even hitting countries with no direct trade link to the region at all. 

The Gulf of Oman connects the Arabian Sea with the Strait of Hormuz. Photo: picture alliance/dpa/NASA/The Visible Earth

Bab el-Mandeb, at the mouth of the Red Sea, is a vital 18-mile-wide sea lane, a primary global chokepoint where roughly 10% to 12% of international trade and millions of barrels of oil pass dailyOngoing Houthi attacks since late 2023 have made it too dangerous, pushing most Western-linked shipping to go all the way around Africa, via the Cape of Good Hope. That’s not a return to normal , it’s a new, permanently more expensive normal: longer voyages, higher freight and insurance costs, and less spare tanker capacity to absorb the next shock. Egypt runs the  Suez Canal revenues and depends on its tolls, a critical piece of its economy, that have now reportedly fallen by roughly half.

The Bab al-Mandeb Strait from space, between the Horn of Africa (left) and the Arabian Peninsula (right). Photo: by Gallo Images, Orbital Horizon/Copernicus Sentinel Data 2021/Getty Images

The Panama Canal. This is a channel where 5-6% of all global trade goes through, including critical food and gas supplies. Unlike the other two, this chokepoint isn’t shut by conflict , it’s impacted by drought. A strong El Niño, layered on top of long-term climate change, has driven Gatún Lake (the freshwater reservoir the canal’s locks depend on) to record lows for a second time in three years. Daily transits have been cut from the normal ~36–38 ships down toward the low 20s. Ships without a booked slot now face costly reservation auctions , where the average winning bid has reportedly jumped from around $135,000 to as much as $4 million. Scientists studying the 2023 Panama drought concluded it would have been “unlikely” without El Niño, and that climate change is making these swings between El Niño and La Niña more extreme and more frequent.

The Panama Canal is located directly between the Atlantic Ocean (via the Caribbean Sea) and the Pacific Ocean Photo: GeogGlobeTales, TikTok

Why these aren’t separate problems 

It would be easy to file all this under “geopolitics” and move on but climate change isn’t a bystander here  it’s a structural multiplier of chokepoint risk.

Three things are happening at once:

1. Physical disruption: War, attacks and accidents slow-down or block the routes directly..
2. “Paper chokepoints”: , Insurance companies, sanctions and shipping contracts make it hard to reroute,  even when another path technically exists. 
3. Climate change: drought, heat and extreme weather are steadily eroding the capacity and reliability of the routes that would normally offer a way around a crisis.

Crucially, these layers stack. When Hormuz  closed ships couldn’t simply detour through the Red Sea route as an escape valve from the Hormuz crisis , because that route was already too dangerous.. When shipping gets rerouted around Africa to avoid the Red Sea, that adds pressure on tanker capacity everywhere else. And when the Panama Canal , one of the few large alternative corridors for Asia-bound US cargoes , is running at reduced capacity because of drought, there’s less slack left in the whole system to absorb the next shock, wherever it comes from.

In other words: the more the climate crisis narrows our margin for error, the harder every other kind of shock , war, sabotage, an accident, a blockage , hits.

Who pays the price

The costs of this don’t land evenly, and that’s the injustice at the centre of it.

While governments of oil-exporting countries may actually see revenues rise when prices spike; Ordinary households, especially in import-dependent countries, see the opposite: higher fuel and shipping costs pushed straight through to food and energy bills. A 10% rise in fuel prices is estimated to raise food distribution costs by 3–5% in import-dependent economies , a burden that falls hardest on the poorest households, where food can already absorb 50–70% of income.

• South Asian economies like Pakistan and Bangladesh are the most structurally exposed of all major importers, heavily dependent on Gulf LNG routed through Hormuz, with little spare capacity to cushion a shock.
• There’s also a slower-moving hit still coming: the Gulf supplies close to half the world’s sulphur and urea (both critical fertiliser inputs) and roughly 40% of global helium. E3G’s analysis (echoed elsewhere) suggests fertilizer shortages triggered by the Hormuz disruption could take 6–9 months to show up, meaning the full effect on food prices and harvests across South Asia and East Africa may still be ahead of us. 

More fossil fuels won’t fix this

The instinctive response to a supply shock is to look for more fossil fuel supply, from new suppliers, new pipelines, new terminals but more supply does not remove the exposure. Oil is priced on integrated global markets, so a shock anywhere raises prices everywhere, regardless of where your own cargo comes from. Diversifying suppliers can smooth short-term bumps, but it doesn’t touch the structural vulnerability of depending on a small number of narrow physical corridors in the first place.

The one thing that does reduce exposure, durably, is needing less oil and gas to move through these chokepoints at all. Once a wind turbine or solar panel is installed, it generates power locally for 25–30 years, immune to a closed strait or a dried-up lake, in a way that no amount of LNG diversification can match. Electrification, efficiency, grid build-out and clean power aren’t just climate policies anymore , they’re energy security policy, and arguably the only kind that actually holds up under simultaneous shocks.

That’s the throughline connecting Hormuz, Bab el-Mandeb and Panama: three very different crises, one shared root cause , a global energy system built on continuous shipments through a handful of chokepoints, now colliding with a warming, more volatile world. The war in the Gulf will end at some point. The next El Niño will not be the last, and it won’t be gentler. Building resilience means shrinking our dependence on the fossil fuel system that keeps putting all of us at the mercy of these narrow stretches of water.

Sources:

• E3G, Beyond Securing Supply: Chokepoint Risk for Oil and Gas Importers, March 2026.
• Additional information from World Weather Attribution, Carbon Brief, and reports on the August 2026 Panama Canal restrictions.

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This is a guest post by Camilo Sánchez, a communications strategist working for Greenpeace International.

We are living through a cost of living crisis that is being treated as if it were a mysterious, purely “economic” event, when in reality it has a clear, combustible cause: our dependence on coal, oil and gas. Across the United States, Europe and far beyond, the main driver of recent price surges has not been wages or “too much money” in the system, but repeated fossil fuel shocks feeding into everything from electricity bills to food prices. When we talk about inflation today, in many countries we are mostly talking about fossilflation, a price spiral rooted in the fossil fuel system itself.

War, chokepoints and the human cost of fossilflation

The US‑Israeli war on Iran is first and foremost a human catastrophe, with thousands of lives lost, families displaced and communities facing bombing, blackouts and water cuts across Iran and the wider Middle East. Those impacts are compounded by the environmental devastation of burning refineries, major oil spills, leaking pipelines and militarised shipping lanes, whose toxic fallout will last far beyond the nightly news cycle. At the same time, the decision to wage war in a region that carried a substantial share of the world’s oil and LNG has triggered what the International Energy Agency calls the worst energy crisis since the 1970s, sending fuel, food and transport prices soaring.

The closure and repeated disruption of the Strait of Hormuz, which controls around a fifth of global oil and gas shipping, has shown again how easily a single chokepoint can turn into a global economic weapon. Another fossil fuel chokepoint, the Bab al‑Mandeb strait, has become a flashpoint in a connected war over Red Sea shipping and Yemen, against the backdrop of the same energy shock. This strategically located transit route has enabled Saudi Arabia to boost its oil revenue during the crisis, even as missile threats and blockade politics deepen a humanitarian emergency and ripple into higher bills far from the frontline. As long as our energy system relies on oil and gas flowing through war‑prone chokepoints, war anywhere becomes a crisis everywhere.

The US‑Israeli war on Iran is not an isolated episode. Russia’s full‑scale invasion of Ukraine, earlier energy crises and repeated OPEC (Organization of the Petroleum Exporting Countries) supply squeezes have all followed a familiar pattern, fossil fuel prices surge, inflation jumps, whiteland households are left to absorb the shock through higher bills. Each time, governments and central banks talk about “temporary energy noise”, but the reality is that every fossil shock leaves a permanent mark on the price level, pushing people deeper into hardship even after headline inflation starts to fall again.

Governments are bailing out fossil fuels, not people

August 06 2023, Canada, Alberta. Tar Sand Processing in Alberta near Fort McMurray. © Markus Mauthe / Greenpeace

Since fossilflation is driven by oil and gas, governments must cut down their countries’ dependence on fossil fuels as a response to energy shocks. But this is not what we are seeing. An analysis of seven EU countries’ responses to the US‑Israeli war on Iran shows that most emergency packages have been designed to protect fossil fuel consumption rather than to cut dependence on it. Across Europe, roughly 86% of crisis spending by governments is encouraging more fossil fuel use through fuel tax cuts, broad VAT reductions on energy (cutting sales tax on everyone’s gas and electricity bills) and untargeted subsidies (direct payments or price supports for fossil fuel costs for all consumers rather than prioritising support for the most vulnerable households. 

Spain, Germany, and Ireland have spent the most on broad fossil fuel bailouts by cutting fuel taxes across the board. This brings prices down for now, but keeps these countries hooked on imported oil and gas.

The Spanish government’s energy relief €5 billion package is a mixed bag: it includes protection for people against rising energy costs and measures towards shifting to renewables but also a massive tax break for heavy industry, making it one of Europe’s strongest renewable energy commitments and one of its biggest fossil fuel lock-ins, at the same time.

Despite its bold climate rhetoric, Germany’s actual response to the energy price shock has been almost entirely fuel tax cuts and price caps, nothing that meaningfully reduces its fossil fuel dependence.

The Netherlands and Sweden have done better, putting more money into things like energy-efficient homes, heat pump incentives, and cheaper public transport. But even they still spend heavily on fossil fuel subsidies.

Overall, none of these seven EU countries has a plan that actually ends fossil fuel dependence, all are allocating more to fossil fuel bailouts than to structural solutions.

Such measures make fossil fuels cheaper to keep using, rather than helping people use less of them which is not only inconsistent with climate goals, it also deepens inequality. Broad tax cuts and general fuel untargeted subsidies tend to benefit higher‑income households and sectors with high fossil consumption, while leaving the poorest communities with only partial relief and no long‑term protection. Only a small share of the government spending is going towards reducing fossil fuel for good, or speeding up the transition to renewables.

Instead of using limited  public budgets to insulate buildings, expand clean public transport, support agroecology and tax windfall fossil profits, many governments are effectively writing cheques to the fossil fuel industry, hoping that temporary discounts will buy social peace.

Fossilflation, inequality and peace

Fossilflation is not just a technical issue for central bankers, it is a justice and peace issue. Every time oil and gas prices surge, it is ordinary households, especially in low‑income communities on the frontlines of climate impacts, that pay the price through rising bills and reduced public services. In the first 50 days of the US‑Israeli war on Iran, an estimated 150 billion dollars moved from households to oil and gas companies through higher energy prices alone, while governments worldwide are on track to spend around 1.1 trillion US dollars propping up the fossil fuel industry in 2026.

Meanwhile, the social and environmental costs of fossilflation are enormous too. Air pollution from burning coal, oil and gas is linked to roughly 8.7 million premature deaths a year worldwide, and climate‑driven disasters such as floods and heatwaves add hundreds of millions of euros to energy bills in countries like France and Germany on top of lives lost. When governments choose to preserve fossil fuel profits and military alliances over people’s wellbeing, they are effectively trading peace and stability for an economy built on volatile, violent energy sources.

May 01 2002, Germany, Ingolstadt. Esso Refinery. © Jens Küsters / Greenpeace

Dependence on fossil fuel chokepoints such as Hormuz and Bab al‑Mandeb also undermines peace directly. It gives armed actors leverage over global energy prices, incentivises military protection of shipping lanes, and turns entire regions into geopolitical battlegrounds where civilians pay in parts: first through war and destruction, then through the economic fallout and ultimately, through more extreme weather. Breaking this dependence is therefore imperative not only to the climate imperative but also to peace.

The way out: decentralised renewables and a fair response to fossilflation

August 16 2023, Indonesia, Jakarta. Electric Bus in Jakarta.© Jurnasyanto Sukarno / Greenpeace

The evidence from the US, Europe and conflict zones points to a clear conclusion: tackling fossilflation means ending our dependence on oil and gas. There is no shortage of sunlight or wind threatening our energy security, what keeps our societies vulnerable is the decision to stick with fuels whose price and supply can be disrupted at any moment by Trump’s mood, a pipeline explosion or a war.

A coherent response needs four pillars.

• Decentralised, price‑stable renewables. Wind and solar have become the cheapest forms of new electricity generation in history, with solar costs falling by around 87% and battery storage by more than 90% since 2010, and they do not depend on shipping through war‑prone chokepoints. Scaling up local energy communities, rooftop solar, heat pumps, smart grids and green storage can turn households and communities from passive bill‑payers into active participants in a resilient energy system.
• Demand reduction and fair transport. Instead of subsidising fossil fuels for private cars, governments can introduce affordable climate tickets for public transport, strengthen rail networks and night trains, and support remote working and speed limits to cut oil demand. Fair transport policies reduce emissions and shield people from future oil price spikes.

June 10 2015, Japan, Kanagawa-ken. Neighbors Visiting at Farmer’s Market in Japan © Kayo Sawaguchi / Greenpeace

• Resilient food system. Large‑scale renovation of homes, phasing out gas from buildings, and investing in agroecology to break dependence on fossil‑based fertilisers can turn cities and rural areas into climate‑resilient spaces, while making heating and food more affordable in the long run.
• Tax justice and ending fossil fuel bailouts. Ending fossil fuel subsidies and broad tax cuts, introducing permanent taxes on super‑profits and on the ultra‑rich, and banning fossil fuel advertising can help fund solutions that can actually protect people from energy shocks while accelerating the transition.

February 24 2025, Germany, Nauen. Wind Farm. © Paul Langrock / Greenpeace

Breaking free from fossil fuels is not just climate policy, it is an anti-inflation policy, social policy and peace policy. As long as we remain locked into oil and gas, we will remain trapped in repeated cycles of fossilflation, war‑fuelled price shocks and widening inequality. Shifting to renewables, efficiency, fair taxation and justice‑based solutions, is both the opportunity and the precondition for real energy independence, economic stability and lasting peace.

What can you do?

For us to fully tackle this situation, we have to look at both its causes and its solutions. You can start by calling it the right way: fossilflation, so that we put the light on the oil and gas addiction that is causing this crisis in the first place.

Together with that, you can also demand your government to tax those fossil fuel polluters that are reaping astronomical profits from the war. That money would fund the policies and measures that are needed to protect you and your community in this and the next crises, as well as to finance the shift towards the clean, stable and renewable energies that we so urgently need.

The post When oil sets the price: Why a conflict in Hormuz drives prices up everywhere appeared first on 350.

This is a guest blog by Rebecca Stoner, Senior US Communications Campaigner at Oil Change International, a research, communications, and advocacy organization working to expose the true costs of fossil fuels and facilitate the ongoing transition to clean energy.

Globally, over 1 billion people lack reliable access to energy they can afford. Across the US and the world, families are being squeezed by rising energy costs. In the U.S. alone, around 80 million people currently struggle with the cost of utilities.  Some even forgo food or medications to keep the lights on. 

Why gas prices are going to rise

New research from Oil Change International (OCI) finds that the Trump administration’s energy and AI dominance agenda, coupled with its attacks on renewable energy, are likely to raise households’ bills even further. It turns out that for working families, Trump’s “drill, baby, drill” agenda actually means “pay, baby, pay.” 

OCI found that the Trump administration’s pro-fossil fuel policies could cause the wholesale price of fossil* gas to double over the next decade. Households will feel the impact of rising wholesale gas prices in multiple ways. Their gas bill will rise. So will their electricity bills, since gas is now the dominant fuel used to generate power for the grid. Businesses are likely to raise prices on food and consumer goods as their electric and gas bills go up. 

A gas power plant in Trumbull County, Ohio. Photo: Credit: Ted Auch, FracTracker Alliance, 2021. Aerial support provided by LightHawk.

The wholesale cost of gas is expected to balloon because the Trump administration has thrown its weight behind a massive expansion of liquefied natural gas (LNG)** exports by lifting a previous pause on  approving new LNG export projects  and backing a massive buildout of AI data centers that largely run on fossil gas, pushing up demand for the fuel to unprecedented heights.  

The primary sources of gas in the US today, the Permian (spanning west Texas and southeastern New Mexico) and Appalachian Basins (centered in Pennsylvania, West Virginia, and Ohio, in the northeastern U.S.), won’t be able to produce enough to meet the surge in demand Trump’s policies create. To fill the gap, producers will need to turn to the Haynesville shale play in Texas and Louisiana, a large underground gas deposit in western Louisiana and eastern Texas that requires fracking: drilling deep wells and injecting a high-pressure mixture to crack open the rock and release the gas trapped inside. Production in the Haynesville shale play in western Louisiana and eastern Texas is expected to soar by over 130%. The problem is, it’s much more expensive to drill in the Haynesville, where gas is harder to extract. This higher cost of drilling will get passed down to consumers. 

A drilling rig next to a flare outside of Midland, Texas. Photo: Oil Change International

Over the past decade, the annual average wholesale price of fossil gas was $3. When gas supply from the Haynesville grows to meet surging demand, prices will rise above $5. This will escalate the energy affordability crisis in the US and the many countries that import American LNG. 

Trump’s attacks on renewables will also raise prices for households and businesses. His administration has blocked solar and wind projects and slashed clean energy tax credits, taking away renewable energy options that could save families money. While we pay, Trump’s fossil fuel industry donors profit from keeping us hooked on gas. 

The health and climate cost of gas

Reliance on fossil gas costs us in more ways than one. Extracting, processing, and transporting gas pollutes our air and water with nitrogen oxides, particulate matter, and hazardous compounds, which are known to cause cancer, respiratory illness, cardiovascular disease, and birth defects with prolonged exposure. 

Greenpeace USA and the Sierra Club estimate that air pollution from currently operating US LNG export terminals causes 60 premature deaths and $957 million in total health costs per year. If all the planned LNG terminals and expansion projects are built in the US, those numbers would increase to 149 premature deaths and $2.33 billion in health costs per year.

The oil and gas industry builds LNG facilities in Black, Brown, Indigenous, and low-income communities that it treats as “sacrifice zones”, areas where the industry and decision-makers allow concentrated pollution and health risks to accumulate, on the assumption that the harm to residents there is an ‘acceptable cost of doing business elsewhere’.  Because of longstanding environmental racism, these communities are often already facing high burdens of pollution. 

Fossil gas is also a major threat to our climate. It’s primarily composed of methane, a superpotent greenhouse gas, and when more is in the atmosphere, extreme wildfires, floods, and hurricanes are more frequent and more ferocious. Fossil gas also displaces renewable energy options from the market. 

What policymakers need to do differently

There’s nothing inevitable about a future of higher energy costs, polluted communities, and climate chaos. The Trump administration and its Big Tech and fossil fuel industry backers are working to bring it into being so they can get even richer at everyone else’s expense. 

But communities across the world are rising up to demand a better future. They’re resisting attempts to build data centers and LNG projects in their communities, which would drive up energy costs and pollute the air, water, and climate. 

Community leaders march through downtown Houston to oppose oil and gas expansion. Photo: Luigi Morris, Climate Defenders

Decision-makers must listen and act. They can protect families from out-of-control energy costs by stopping the buildout of expensive gas projects and AI data centers, and investing in affordable renewable energy instead. Transitioning to a just renewable energy system will also create good green jobs, reduce toxic fossil fuel pollution, and safeguard communities from deadly climate disasters. 

Political choices are driving the energy affordability crisis, and different choices can get us out of it. 

Congress is currently considering a moratorium on new data centers but lawmakers won’t act unless they hear from constituents. Join us in telling your senators to support the AI Data Center Moratorium Act. 

*Fossil gas, which we’ll usually refer to as simply “gas” in this piece, is not the same as the gasoline that powers vehicles. Fossil gas is the gas used in stoves, for heating homes, and for generating electricity.

**LNG (liquefied natural gas) is the same fossil gas described above, just in a different form. To ship gas overseas, companies cool it down until it turns into a liquid — natural gas that has been cooled to a liquid state, at about -260° Fahrenheit, for shipping and storage. The volume of natural gas in a liquid state is about 600 times smaller than its volume in a gaseous state, which is why it’s called “liquefied.” That shrinking is what makes it possible to load gas onto tankers and sell it to other countries, instead of only piping it to homes and businesses nearby. 

The post Out of Pocket: The real cost of fossil fuels (and AI) on our household bills appeared first on 350.

Last week, as wildfires tore through southern Europe, TotalEnergies did something that made headlines for all the right reasons. The company announced it would cover fuel costs for French firefighters – both ground vehicles and the aircrafts dropping water on the flames. Nearly 200 employees who volunteer as firefighters were also given paid leave, no holiday days docked, to go help.

It’s the kind of story that writes itself: oil giant steps up for the heroes on the front lines. Except it isn’t a coincidence that the company setting fire to the planet is also the one paying for the water trucks.

No amount of PR pays for a life turned into ashes

TotalEnergies has spent this year positioning itself as the good guy. Back in March, as the war in Iran and Lebanon sent oil prices spiking, the company capped gasoline and diesel prices at its French stations – and kept extending that cap, month after month, through June. It even ran special discounted pricing on Mother’s Day and Father’s Day weekends. The government publicly thanked them for “doing their bit.”

Here’s what that PR campaign conveniently sidesteps: TotalEnergies wasn’t shielding the French public from an unfortunate energy crisis. It was cushioning them from a price shock that its own industry helps manufacture and profit from. And this isn’t generosity: it’s brand management.

The firefighter fuel donations follow the identical logic. At the same time TotalEnergies is filling up water bombers for free,Europe is tallying wildfire damage bills are already projected to be between €15 – 19 billion across France, Spain, Portugal, Greece and Romania – and that figure is expected to climb well higher once the full toll is counted.

As someone born and raised in the South-West, who lived through this year’s Gironde fires and had to be evacuated, let me say it plainly: there is no check Total can write that will bring back my memories, or resurrect the firefighters who died defending our land, or regrow our forests, our land, and the wild animals that the flames reduced to ash.

Wildfires raging in Southern France. Photo: France 24

The real dimension of numbers

Covering firefighters’ fuel bills costs TotalEnergies nothing next to what fossil fuel-driven heat, drought and fire are costing everyone else. And also, it costs them cents if compared to what they are making out of the climate and energy crises they are fueling.

In July, TotalEnergies posted another blockbuster quarter, with adjusted net income around $6 billion for the three months from April to June – a jump of roughly two-thirds compared to a year earlier.

At 350.org, we put it plainly: this isn’t an ordinary earnings report, it’s a receipt for climate chaos. Every spike in fossil fuel prices functions as a kind of tax on ordinary people – driving up the cost of transport, electricity, and food. While governments spend billions subsidizing fossil fuel companies or responding to extreme weather disasters, companies like TotalEnergies reap the windfall from the very volatility they help sustain and pay basically nothing for the climate chaos they feed every day.

So put the numbers next to each other in the equation:

Three months with a $6 billion profit + a wildfire season with a several-billion-euro damage bill and counting = a free tank of gas for the fire trucks.

Something is wrong with this math, isn’t it? This is not “doing its bit.” This is a company spending a fraction of a fraction of its profits to make sure the story people remember is the fuel donation, not the emissions. 

A firefighter battles a wildfire in San Martin de Valdeiglesias, west of Madrid, on Sunday. (Manu Fernandez / Associated Press)

This is not new

The fuel donation and the price cap aren’t the first time TotalEnergies has shown up with a check right after helping create the disaster. The company runs the same playbook again and again: a highly visible, low-cost gesture, timed to a crisis, that gets far more attention than its price tag deserves while the operation actually driving the harm keeps growing in the background. 

Take Mozambique. In February 2026, TotalEnergies donated food and hygiene kits worth around $500,000 to communities hit by devastating floods – less than a dollar per person for the more than 700,000 people affected while leading a $20 billion liquefied natural gas project in Cabo Delgado, in that same country. This is a project which is set to produce billions of tonnes of carbon pollution over its lifetime and one that’s already displaced communities and fueled insecurity in the region. 

You see the same move in its sports sponsorships: campaigners have called out its backing of the Africa Cup of Nations and the 2023 Rugby World Cup as a way to wrap the brand in African pride and sporting joy, even as its fossil fuel expansion across the continent – including the East African Crude Oil Pipeline – drives the very climate breakdown those communities are living through. Even the company’s own rebrand fits the mold: dropping “Total” for “TotalEnergies” and plastering train stations and airports with ads about reinvention and renewables, while fossil fuels still make up the overwhelming majority of what it actually produces and invests in.

 It’s the same trick every time: something cheap enough to repeat, photogenic enough to spread, and warm enough to stick in people’s minds. More importantly, it is built to outshine a business model that keeps expanding the exact crises it shows up to look good after.

Where the real accountability lives

This is exactly why the conversation needs to move from PR gestures to policy – specifically, to strong and permanent taxation. Governments are, right now, negotiating at the UN Convention on International Tax Cooperation, aiming for a global tax treaty by 2027. It’s a genuine opportunity to make oil and gas majors pay not through donated fuel and capped prices, but through binding, permanent contributions that fund the transition out of these crises, for good. 

A global tax on polluters isn’t just about collecting a bigger bill from Total, Exxon or Chevron and calling it justice. Done right, it’s a funding mechanism for the way out. Revenue from a binding global tax can flow directly into scaling up renewables, into grid upgrades, into the transition infrastructure that’s currently starved of investment while fossil fuel majors funnel billions into dividends and buybacks instead. 

And there’s a second, quieter win buried in that shift: every dollar that moves from financing fossil fuel expansion to financing renewables is a dollar that makes oil and gas reserves less economically viable to extract. A global tax that funds the transition doesn’t just make polluters pay for the damage behind them; it accelerates the moment their entire business model stops making financial sense.

The planet, and the people losing their homes and their loved ones to it, don’t need another goodwill press release. They need the money to go where the damage already is but also to weed out the system behind this crisis, and where the future needs it most.

Soraya Fettih is the Global Campaigns Coordinator at 350.org. 

The post A Total Greenwash appeared first on 350.

It is a tough time to be in South Africa trying to keep the lights on. Across the country, households are feeling the squeeze as electricity costs continue to rise. That’s why we are calling on Government to expand the FBE grant to 350 kWh per month with publicly financed renewable energy. However, most of us don’t know the ups and downs of electricity pricing. In this article, we unpack the proposed changes to electricity pricing, what they could mean for ordinary South Africans, and explore how public investment in renewable energy could help lower electricity costs. 

On 29 July 2026, Cabinet approved the publication of the Revised Electricity Pricing Policy (REPP) and a draft Electricity Sector Market Transformation Position Paper for public comment. Government presents these reforms as a step toward a more transparent and competitive electricity sector. 

While officials frame this as a major step forward, there is a lot to unpack. We need to understand what is being proposed and what it could mean for energy affordability and energy justice. We are concerned with electricity prices, but we are most concerned with energy access, climate justice, and ensuring that every person in South Africa can access safe, reliable, and affordable energy.

Understanding tariff unbundling

For many years, electricity tariffs appeared as a single price, making it difficult for consumers to understand what they were actually paying for. Cabinet argues that one of the key features of the revised pricing policy is greater tariff transparency through the unbundling of electricity costs into separate components: generation, transmission, distribution and retail activities.

When you pay for electricity, the charges may include:

1. Energy charges
   • This is the cost of the electricity you use, measured in cents per kilowatt-hour (c/kWh). It covers the costs of generating electricity and operating power stations.
2. Network charges
   • These charges pay for the transmission and distribution infrastructure, including power lines, transformers, substations, maintenance, and system operations that deliver electricity to homes and businesses.
3. Capacity-related charges
   • Recent tariff reforms have introduced separate charges intended to help recover the cost of maintaining sufficient capacity to meet demand, regardless of actual energy consumption.
4. Social and public-interest support mechanisms
   • This means using electricity pricing to help people who need it most. It includes helping poorer households pay for electricity, extending access to rural communities, and supporting programmes like Free Basic Electricity. 

Eskom is also introducing “Easy Electricity” purchase options. These aren’t new prices, but voluntary “packages” designed to make budgeting easier for prepaid users. Eskom says this option will allow customers to choose electricity amounts, measured in kWh, rather than rand values when buying prepaid tokens.

What the draft pricing reforms are intended to do

The revised pricing policy forms part of broader electricity sector reforms following the Electricity Regulation Amendment Act, 2024, and Eskom’s restructuring. The proposed reforms seek to ‘modernise’ the electricity sector and create a more competitive market environment. 

Government says the reforms aim to:

• Increase transparency
  • Tariffs will be unbundled and allocated across generation, transmission, distribution, and retail activities.
• Enable greater competition
  • In simple terms, the government wants to create an electricity market where more companies can generate and sell electricity, rather than relying mainly on Eskom. The hope is that greater competition will lead to a more efficient and reliable electricity system.
• Attract investment
  • Government hopes that new regulatory rules and cost-reflective pricing will encourage private investment in new electricity generation and network infrastructure. Cost-reflective pricing means charging electricity customers a price that reflects the actual cost of supplying electricity, rather than keeping prices low through subsidies or cross-subsidies.
• Supports virtual wheeling
  • The reforms would make it easier for electricity generated in one place to be delivered to customers somewhere else using the existing electricity grid. This means people and businesses could buy electricity from a wider range of producers, even if they are not located nearby.  

The affordability crisis remains: why Free Basic Electricity needs urgent reform

The proposed changes to South Africa’s electricity system could bring benefits, but they won’t automatically guarantee affordable electricity for low-income households. In several countries, governments have found that even where competition increased and private investment flowed into the sector, low-income households continued to struggle with rising prices and energy poverty. In some cases, governments had to step in by introducing additional subsidies, social tariffs, price protections, or debt-relief measures to protect vulnerable consumers.

Many South Africans already struggle to afford electricity. Unless government provides support for low-income households, the proposed changes could leave many families behind and make energy poverty even worse.

Free Basic Electricity (FBE) is one of the main ways government helps ensure that low-income households have access to electricity. It is designed to help people who need it most, including pensioners, unemployed people, single-income households, and families surviving on very little to zero income. Experts estimate that around 10 million households qualify for the programme, yet only about 2 in every 10 eligible households actually receive it.

Many organisations, researchers, and community groups agree that South Africa’s Free Basic Electricity programme needs to be expanded.

We are calling on government to increase Free Basic Electricity from 50 kWh to 350 kWh per month. This is the minimum amount a household needs to live with dignity—to keep the lights on, safely cook and store food, heat water, and even run a small business from home to generate an income.

Today, many families spend more on electricity than they do on basic foods like maize meal or bread. Expanding Free Basic Electricity would help ease this burden and ensure more households can meet their basic needs.

These are the realities that should shape South Africa’s electricity policies. The draft pricing reforms are now open for public comment. This is an opportunity for communities, workers, faith groups, civil society organisations, and ordinary South Africans to have a say in the future of our electricity system.

Electricity is more than a service we pay for. It keeps food fresh, powers schools and clinics, creates jobs and livelihoods, and helps families live with dignity. As South Africa reshapes its electricity system, the real question is not only how the market should work, but who it should work for.

Join the #FreeBasicElectricity campaign community and work alongside organisations, community leaders, and activists to help shape, strengthen, and grow the campaign for affordable electricity.

The post Changes to Our Power appeared first on 350.

Today, government negotiators will sit down in New York for the fifth round of talks to discuss the UN Framework Convention on International Tax Cooperation. It is the sort of negotiation that might make most of our eyes glaze over.

But what actually happens in these rooms for the coming week is tied closely to our lives, our health and our cost of living. The decisions being made are simple yet consequential to our lives: will polluters profiting from the economic and climate crises that the rest of us are paying for be made to pay their share?  

The price we are already paying

Conflicts, oil shocks and rising bills

Since the conflict between the US, Israel and Iran escalated around the Strait of Hormuz — the passage that carries roughly a fifth of the world’s seaborne oil trade, plus major volumes of gas and fertilizer — disruptions to shipping have pulled millions of barrels of oil a day off global markets at various points this year, and crude oil prices have spiked sharply, at times trading well above USD$100 a barrel.

This cost doesn’t stop at shipping routes. We are seeing higher oil, gas and fertilizer prices that in turn raising transport costs, food prices, and electricity bills, for everyone, everywhere. In the US alone, people have already paid nearly USD$67 billion more at the pump since the war began, working out to over USD$500 in extra fuel costs per household. In fact, over USD$700 billion is estimated to be siphoned from households and businesses to the oil and gas industry by the end of 2026 caused by these elevated prices.

Extreme weather

There is a second shock underway too. The climate crisis, fuelled by fossil fuel companies, is making extreme weather events more frequent and severe, taking an ever-growing toll on both human lives and public budgets. This summer has brought Europe’s worst start to a wildfire season on record, with over 434,000 hectares burnt by late July — more than the same point in 2025, itself the worst year on record. France is currently seeing its most devastating wildfire outbreak in half a century, with more than 300,000 people evacuated across France and Spain, and Spain is battling its largest wildfire in modern history, with firefighting costs alone estimated at up to €3.3 billion. Countries like Algeria, Türkiye and Canada too are battling deadly wildfires and around the world, we see increasingly devastating climate impacts like floods, droughts, and heatwaves, upending millions of lives. Every year, our governments are spending more and more taxpayer money picking up the pieces — on firefighting, evacuations, emergency relief, rebuilding and more.

A firefighter battling a forest fire in Saint-Jean-d’Illac, around 30km from Bordeaux, France. Source: Getty

Every fossil fuel price shock and every climate disaster acts like an unofficial second tax on us: charged once through our everyday bills, and again through the public taxes we pay.

Where our money is actually going

This money out of our pockets isn’t disappearing either. While ordinary people struggle, oil and gas majors are posting exceptional profits, not despite these price shocks, but because of them. The volatility unleashed by the US-Israel-Iran conflict has been especially good for business, with the Big ones just having announced shockingly high earnings from second quarter of 2026 (April, May and June):

• TotalEnergies, the French oil and gas giant and France’s largest company by revenue, reported USD$6 billion in profits, more than double what it made a year ago. 

On July 22nd, 350.org activists staged an action at La Défense, the Paris business district, home of TotalEnergies headquarters, denouncing the responsibility of fossil fuel giants in the climate crisis and demanding stronger taxes on their profit – Credit: Rémy El Sibaïe/350.org

• Shell, the British oil and gas major and one of the world’s largest energy companies, posted profits of  USD$9.84 billion for the second quarter, also more than double last year’s figure, and its best quarter since 2022. CEO Wael Sawan told investors the company was built to “thrive through volatility.” BP, another UK based oil company, also just announced a net profit of over USD $5.73 billion, up $2.5bn from the quarter before. 
• US Big Oil companies Exxon and Chevron have netted over a combined USD$26 billion, with it being the largest quarterly profit ever for the latter. 

That’s over USD $48 billion taken in profits by just four large oil companie while the rest of the world is left dealing with climate and energy chaos. To put this in perspective, this is more than the entire yearly national incomes of over 100 countries,

The UN Tax Convention is an opportunity to course correct

There’s something deeply unfair about this picture: the same volatility that’s draining household budgets and straining public finances is the very thing fossil fuel companies are cashing in on. These round of talks is a real chance to change that by creating binding rules that shift the cost off households and onto the companies that are recording obscene profits. Governments are aiming to deliver a global treaty also called ‘The United Nations Framework Convention on International Tax Cooperation” by 2027 to end corporate tax evasion and opacity, and establish fairer taxation rules. But they must also use it to make oil and gas majors pay for their role in the climate crisis, including funding lasting protection for affected populations.

This matters most for countries in the Global South, who are often sitting on fossil fuel reserves or living through the worst of the climate damage, with the least power to claim a fair share of profits made from either. It is also important for other countries, where public budgets are increasingly being eaten up to prop up fossil fuel companies or coping with climate disasters caused by the very same industry. Every dollar Big Oil avoids paying in tax is a dollar of our taxpayers money that governments have to cough up. That money has to come from somewhere, and usually it’s taken from budgets for health, education, transport, and other public services.

What should be on the table

As a new global treaty is taking shape, its an opportunity to help fund the future we all want. World governments need to make sure this time, the worst and the wealthiest polluters pay for the climate damage they’ve caused by ensuring two things: 

1. A strong, permanent tax on the profits fossil fuel companies are making right now

Research found that a 20% surtax on the profits of the world’s 100 largest oil and gas companies could have raised over $1.08 trillion since the Paris Agreement was signed in 2015. Our leaders must write a permanent surtax on fossil fuel corporations’ global profits into the UN Tax Convention, aligned with the polluters-pay principle, so companies making billions from the climate crisis pay for it long after this year’s price spikes are forgotten..

2. Directing that revenue for climate response

The treaty should lock in that the revenue should be directed to the communities and countries hit hardest by climate disasters, energy poverty, and fossil-fuel price shocks, and to a fast, fair shift to renewable energy. Without that earmark, governments could tax the polluters and still leave the people paying the steepest price for their pollution without dedicated support.

Our leaders cannot keep proclaiming there isn’t enough money for the clean energy transition or other public priorities while vast pools of fossil-fuel profit remain largely untouched. They must tax the exceptional profits of an industry that has known for decades that its business model was driving the climate crisis, and still chose to keep extracting, keep expanding, and keep collecting record profits from it. That means taxing Big Oil’s windfalls, closing the loopholes that let those profits disappear before they’re ever assessed, and putting the proceeds where they’re needed most: with the people and countries paying for a crisis this same industry caused.

The Make Polluters Pay coalition calling on the British government for a greater taxation of the fossil fuel industry to pay for climate damage outside the UK Houses of Parliament on 3 August 2026. Photo: Andy Aitchison

What can you do

You don’t need a seat in the negotiating room to have a stake in what happens there. If oil and gas companies keep profiting from every disruption while ordinary households absorb the cost, it’s because a set of rules enables them to do so. But these rules can change.

The week’s meeting isn’t an opportunity worth letting pass. Big Oil’s Q2 profits have given us concrete numbers to hold up next to what governments could be collecting instead, right as the room decides whether to write that possibility into the treaty text.

That’s the leverage we actually have here. We are calling on all participating governments at the UN Tax Convention, to write a permanent, unavoidable surtax on fossil fuel companies’ global profits into the Convention, and to spend that revenue on climate protection and affordable clean energy for the people who need it the most. 

Make polluters pay! 

The post This UN Tax Conference might sound boring but we all have a stake in it appeared first on 350.

Editor’s note: In July 2026, ten residents of Bali, Indonesia filed a citizen lawsuit against the country’s government, seeking a moratorium on new fossil fuel projects and accountability for climate-related disasters. Below, one of the plaintiffs and a field organizer with 350 Indonesia, Suriadi Darmoko, explains why he joined the case and what he believes is at stake for Bali’s future.

Flooding in the dry season? That was my first question after encountering so many floods, caused by extreme rain, that of all things, fall during what should be the dry season. To me, this situation is an extraordinary anomaly.

Back in elementary school I was taught that Indonesia’s dry season runs from April to September, while the rainy season usually falls between October and March. But in the year 2000, when I still lived in my home village, the rain did not come when it was supposed to. Even after the “coffee-blossom rain” — the first rain of the rainy season, after which the coffee plants would normally flower — more than a month passed and no more rain fell. The ground that had been soaked by that “coffee-blossom rain” turned dusty again. As a result, the planting season for rain-fed farmers — including my own parents — had to be delayed. That is a childhood memory of mine, one I thought things would improve after, but they didn’t. Instead I have lived through seasons that grow more and more unpredictable, even more extreme.

The intensifying climate crisis is growing more widespread and costly

The great flood in Bali that struck during the dry season, specifically on 10 September 2025,  brought that memory rushing back. A memory that returned with a simple question: since when did the seasons become so hard to predict? Now, the rain no longer holds back; it strikes right at the peak of the dry season.

Eighteen people died, 295 were displaced, and 6,309 households were affected. In addition, 520 public facilities were damaged, three bridges were severed, 23 road sections were destroyed, 82 retaining walls collapsed, and 194 houses were damaged. Total economic losses were estimated at Rp28.9 billion.

Flooding in Denpasar, Bali. Photo: Kresnanta – BaleBengong

That same year, extreme rainfall struck again at the peak of the dry season, this time in July — collapsing a section of Bali’s main highway, the Denpasar–Gilimanuk route, into a sinkhole roughly 8 meters (26 feet) deep and causing severe congestion. It wasn’t the first time: a 2022 flash flood in nearby Jembrana, a district on the same route, had already submerged 156 homes, displaced 117 households, and destroyed seven bridges.

Rescue efforts after flooding in Denpasar, Bali. Photo: Kresnanta – BaleBengong

Flooding is clearly nothing new for Bali: it keeps recurring, but it does get worse every year. It no longer strikes only the outskirts, but also tourist areas like Kuta, Legian, Seminyak, Canggu, Sanur, Ubud, and other parts of Bali, none of which have escaped flooding. Today, you no longer need to strain to remember when Bali last flooded — the footage is easy to find online. 

It is ironic: an island marketed as a comfortable tourist destination “the last paradise” is instead being battered by climate disasters that grow more intense and more destructive by the year.

Extreme heat, too, no longer holds back even during the rainy season. Several areas in Bali Province have recorded daily temperatures reaching 36 degrees Celsius. Bali was also hit by a prolonged drought in 2016, which caused drinking-water supplies to plummet drastically. For example, at that time the local water treatment plant  could only operate at 25 percent of its total production capacity of 550 liters per second.

Beyond flooding, coastal areas are also not spared from threats coming from the sea: tidal surges threatening beach destinations such as Sanur, Kuta, and many other locations. The threat from ocean waves keeps worsening, to the point that it could paralyze the sea crossings to Bali at any moment. In mid-2025, a ferry  sank after being struck by a tidal surge in the Bali Strait, disrupting the flow of logistics into Bali; the sinking also claimed lives.

2025 is certainly not the peak of Bali’s environmental crisis, because extreme weather continues to threaten this increasingly deforested island.

When threat meets vulnerability

Increasingly intense extreme weather is colliding with poor land-use practices. According to findings from the PULIHKAN Bali (Restore Bali) Coalition, a public advocacy group, between 2019 and 2024, Bali’s main urban area, the fast-growing region around Denpasar known by the acronym SARBAGITA, lost at least 6,522 hectares of productive rice fields — equivalent to an average shrinkage of 1,087 hectares of rice fields every year, a real erosion of the Subak cultural landscape long celebrated as a world heritage. In the Ayung River Basin (DAS), which serves as the lifeline of Bali’s water supply, the ecosystem is in a state of severe crisis. Forest cover in the Ayung basin, which once reached roughly 49,500 hectares, has now shrunk to only about 1,500 hectares. Meanwhile, Bali’s cities are falling well short of Indonesia’s legal requirement to keep at least 30% of urban land as green space: parks, urban forest, and other unpaved, vegetated areas that help absorb rainwater and reduce flood risk.

The destruction caused by flooding in Denpasar, Bali. Photo: Kresnanta – BaleBengong

To me, it is as if those in power have let Bali become a case of  the classic disaster equation: extreme rain (hazard) plus land-use conversion (vulnerability), compounded by a lack of readiness to face it (capacity).

The root of Bali’s ecological crisis

To me, flooding is only the surface of a much longer chain of root causes. Extreme rain is a result of unstable weather caused by climate change. Climate change is a result of global warming driven by rising greenhouse gases — carbon dioxide, methane, and others. So the question follows: does the root cause i.e. the greenhouse gases also originate from within Bali itself?

A survey by the KemBali Becik Community found that 64 percent of Bali’s greenhouse gas emissions come from tourism industry activities. The tourism and industrial sector consumes 3,737 GWh of electricity, while households consume only 3,153 GWh. And with far fewer customers — 226,942 in the tourism sector compared to 1,468,786 households — business and industrial sectors are far more energy-hungry, making their contribution to greenhouse gas production disproportionately large.

I see no sign of improvement at the island-wide scale, even as promises of an energy transition keep echoing across Bali — whether from the Bali Provincial Government or from international forums such as the G20, which gave birth to the Just Energy Transition Partnership (JETP). In fact, Bali is being shown a policy paradox. Regional and central governments keep clearing the way for massive projects that would only add to greenhouse gas emissions and deepen the climate crisis — including plans for four new gas-fired power plants with a combined capacity of 1,550 megawatts (enough to power more than a million homes), paired with a floating terminal that would import and process liquefied natural gas offshore. To put that in perspective: it’s more than Bali’s entire current power supply — the island’s whole existing electricity system has an installed capacity of just 1,518 megawatts, against a peak demand of around 1,227 megawatts. Rather than pursuing a transition, the government instead seems intent on demonstrating that Bali’s energy-security strategy is anchored in fossil fuels. In my view, this is a false sense of energy security — dependence on gas actually threatens Bali with the risk of future energy crises.

I have tried to untangle this complexity through a bit of philosophical reflection. Under the teaching of Karma Phala — the law of cause and effect that also underpins the moral foundation of Balinese society — it is hard to imagine the impacts of the climate crisis easing while the very causes behind it continue to be funded, reinforced, and built up across Bali. Every infrastructure project that increases carbon emissions, and every political decision that sacrifices water-catchment areas, will eventually bear bitter fruit, coming back to collect its due in the form of floods, droughts, rising sea levels, and extreme weather.

For that reason, fossil energy expansion can no longer be treated merely as a technical matter of power supply, it is now a critical issue of public safety, ecological justice, and the very existence of this “last paradise.”

A path to calming the crisis

I believe the climate crisis in Bali cannot be calmed by stopping just one greedy project alone. One of the best paths to calming this crisis, is to delay, or even halt, the granting of “extractive permits” across the board, all at once. It is on this basis that I chose to take part in this climate lawsuit together with the PULIHKAN (Movement for Environment and Sustainability) Bali Coalition, with one goal: to prevent Bali from being further destroyed.

At this point, it is entirely reasonable for the Court, and for the judges’ gavel, to take on the important role of deciding on the suspension of extractive permits that are undermining efforts to mitigate and adapt to the climate crisis in Bali.

Press conference by PULIHKAN Bali Coalition on July 7, announcing the filing of Bali’s first climate lawsuit Photo: 350.org Indonesia

Through this lawsuit, the PULIHKAN Bali Coalition also hopes to spur the birth of structural policy correction in the form of a moratorium. This moratorium would include a temporary halt on new fossil-fuel energy megaprojects, as well as a halt on permits allowing the conversion of productive agricultural land, water-catchment areas, green open spaces, and protected zones. A moratorium is not an attempt to stop the pulse of the economy — it is the application of a precautionary principle, to ensure that no one becomes a sacrifice made in the name of development.

The road to recovery

Beyond a moratorium on permits, I believe it is also essential to emphasize the urgency of reforming climate and disaster financing. Until now, the handling of climate disasters in Indonesia has tended to be reactive, and heavily dependent on the bureaucratic process of declaring a disaster emergency status. Yet the climate crisis has already transformed the frequency and scale of disasters into a real, recurring threat. Regional preparedness must not be held hostage by convoluted administrative procedures. The government needs to progressively allocate dedicated funding within the national and regional budgets  toward mitigation, adaptation, strengthening community preparedness, rapid emergency response, and community-based post-disaster recovery.

Bali, in fact, has a strong historical track record on the global climate stage. As host of the UN Climate Change Conference (COP 13) in 2007, Bali once stood at the center of the world’s attention in shaping the Bali Road Map. Now, having set the ambitious target of Bali Net Zero Emissions 2045, that commitment is being tested on the ground. Climate commitments mean nothing if they remain mere diplomatic jargon, while on the ground, permits for fossil industries and the destruction of water-catchment areas continue unabated.

Bali’s climate leadership can only be proven through consistent policy: accelerating the adoption of renewable energy, protecting what remains of its natural landscape, halting fossil expansion, and restoring degraded ecosystems.

This citizens’ lawsuit is, in the end, a mirror of the stakes riding on Bali’s future. The decisions made today will determine whether we will find a Bali that is sustainable and resilient, or an island drowning in an ecological crisis of its own elites’ making. The choice at this crossroads is clear: continue down the path of dependence on fossil energy and destructive land-use conversion, or dare to step toward a clean energy transition, protection of the remaining landscape, and governance grounded in public safety.

Bali cannot walk in two opposing directions at once. For the safety of both people and nature in Bali, choosing a safe and clean future is no longer merely an option — it is a mandate that must be fulfilled now.

The post Bali’s Climate Lawsuit: A local’s account on why he’s suing his own government appeared first on 350.

Nearly two decades after 350.org was founded, one of the most common questions we still get is “what does your name mean?” Well, it’s less complicated than you’d think.

350.org stands for 350 ppm of CO2 in the atmosphere, which is considered the safe amount to avoid the worst impacts of the climate crisis.

We need our atmosphere to contain less than 350 ppm of CO2, but it currently contains around 430 (you can learn more about science here and check the daily CO2 levels here). Our fight is to keep fossil fuels in the ground in order to return as fast as possible to that safe level.

So our name, 350.org, is a compass to bring us back to safety and an homage to the science that guides us. But it is much more than a number. It’s also a reminder of where our home is, and who’s with us in this journey.

Here’s a video we made way back in 2008, which captures this concept:

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As we write this, deadly wildfires are actively burning across Spain, France and many other countries, with tens of thousands of people evacuated and firefighters risking their lives on the frontlines. Our thoughts are with everyone who has lost a loved one, a home, or a community to these fires, and with every firefighter, emergency worker and volunteer out there right now.

When the world burns

A wildfire is an uncontrolled fire that burns through forests, grasslands, or brush, usually started by a spark — lightning, a downed power line, a discarded cigarette, an agricultural burn gone wrong — that finds fuel dry enough and weather hot, dry and windy enough to let it spread. Fire has always been part of many ecosystems. Some landscapes even depend on regular, low-intensity burns to stay healthy. The problem isn’t that fires happen. The problem is how much bigger, faster and more destructive they’ve become.

Data from just this year confirms the trend. Between January and April 2026 alone, wildfires burned more than 150 million hectares of land worldwide — about 20% above the previous record set in 2020, and roughly double the same period in 2024. The fires weren’t confined to one region: they broke out across continents, fed by the same mix of heat, drought, wind and human ignition, all amplified by a warming climate. Forecasters also expect a rapid swing toward El Niño conditions through the rest of the year, a pattern that has historically lined up with severe fire activity in Australia, Indonesia, the Amazon and parts of North America.

This summer, the crisis has moved to Europe, and it is still unfolding. A punishing run of heatwaves has left the Mediterranean tinder-dry, and fires have already killed at least 16 civilians and three firefighters, and forced more than 320,000 people from their homes across Spain and France alone — with more people being evacuated by the day. Both France and Spain have seen the number of wildfires more than double compared to last year: France has already passed 115,000 hectares burned this year, a national record, with the Gironde fire alone consuming around 42,000 hectares — one of the largest fires the country has seen since the Second World War — while Spain is currently fighting one of its largest wildfires on record near Madrid, which had burned more than 111,000 acres as of late July and remains active. The European Union has activated its largest firefighting mobilization ever, with firefighters and aircraft pre-positioned across a dozen countries for a season that is far from over.

The same heat has driven fires across North Africa: in Tunisia, over 900 fires were recorded within 72 hours, and in Algeria, more than 100 people were hospitalised.

Wildfires have spread across Canada too, with smoke reaching large parts of the US. Toronto’s air quality ranked among the world’s worst, and hospitals reported an increase in ER visits related to the fires.

More than just flames

The most obvious damage a wildfire does is the most visible one: homes destroyed, forests reduced to ash, people killed trying to flee or fighting the fire itself. But wildfires kill in a second, quieter way, one that reaches people who never see a flame: smoke.

Wildfire smoke is loaded with fine particulate matter, known as PM2.5, small enough to slip past the body’s defences, enter the bloodstream, and trigger inflammation throughout the body. Globally, wildfire smoke particles are estimated to cause 677,745 deaths every year, with almost 39% of them children under age 5, and the Lancet Countdown 2025 report puts the toll from fine particles at over 100,000 premature deaths a year worldwide, with the burden unevenly distributed between continents. Sub-Saharan Africa and Southeast Asia are consistently the hardest-hit regions. The smoke from a single fire season can carry a global cost: Canada’s 2023 wildfires alone were linked to an estimated 82,100 premature deaths worldwide, with smoke drifting across North America and Europe. In the United States, researchers estimate wildfire smoke could contribute to as many as 24,100 deaths every year, and a separate study found that wildfire smoke in California was responsible for over 50,000 deaths between 2008 and 2018, with an economic toll above $430 billion. Scientists have found that almost no system in the body is spared: smoke exposure has been linked to heart disease, stroke, dementia, worsened asthma, complications in pregnancy and even harm to the brain.

Smoke doesn’t respect borders, either. It can travel thousands of miles from its source, blanketing cities that are nowhere near an active fire in a toxic haze. That means the health burden of wildfires falls on far more people than the ones who lose their homes, and it falls hardest on children, older people, outdoor workers and anyone with an existing respiratory or heart condition.

The fire weather triangle

Fires need three things to spread: fuel, oxygen and heat, plus the wind to push them along. Climate change is altering nearly every one of those conditions. Hotter temperatures dry out vegetation faster, turning forests and grasslands into ready-made fuel. Longer, more intense droughts strip moisture from soil and plants months before fire season even starts. Changing rain patterns mean wet seasons that once kept landscapes green are arriving later, or not at all. And in many regions, the same warming atmosphere that’s supercharging heatwaves is also strengthening the winds that carry embers and flames for miles ahead of a fire’s front.

Scientists call this combination “fire weather,” and it’s expanding. Fire seasons are starting earlier and ending later across the Northern Hemisphere, giving landscapes less time to recover between blazes. None of this means every fire is caused by climate change. It means the climate crisis is making the conditions for extreme fires far more likely, far more often, in far more places.

The fossil footprint

Wildfires are becoming more frequent, more intense and harder to contain. Satellite data show that the frequency of the most extreme wildfire events more than doubled worldwide between 2003 and 2023, with the six most extreme years on record all falling within the last seven. A separate global assessment found that the extent of forest fires has grown by around 40% over the past two decades, while the intensity of the world’s most extreme fires has roughly doubled over the same period. This pattern is linked to a hotter, drier atmosphere: warmer temperatures dry out vegetation, lengthen fire seasons and create the conditions extreme fires need to spread. And that hotter atmosphere has a direct, identifiable cause.

Burning fossil fuels — coal, oil and gas — causes that increase in carbon (CO2) which drives global heating. No other source can account for it: not volcanoes, not clouds, not solar cycles. Methane is the same story: fossil fuel extraction and use cause around 35% of human-caused methane emissions, with agriculture and waste accounting for the rest. The emissions of these both gases is clearly driven by fossil fuels: this is no longer a matter of  debate.

The coal, oil and gas industries have massively profited from an economic model that forces people to use fossil fuels, and they continue to profit from it. Reports have proven that they knew the damage they were causing since at least the 1970s, and that, instead of abandoning their business model, they actively worked to disinform the public. They still do. We keep burning fossil fuels because they choose (and they chose then) to use their power for that purpose.

While we may not be able to stop wildfires completely, we can reduce their severity and frequency by stopping the fossil fuel industry. We must demand our governments to switch to cleaner energy, and cut the financial flows that allow this industry to still exist. If you haven’t yet, join us in these demands!

More from the Fossil Fuels Did This series:

• Fossil Fuels Did This: Heatwaves
• Fossil Fuels Did This: Tropical Cyclones
• Fossil Fuels Did This: Floods
• Fossil Fuels Did This: Drought

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