If a court recognises the harm caused by climate change, but says it can’t compel a government to act, what does that mean for frontline communities?

Culture is at the core of what it means to be human. The climate crisis threatens it. Yet it's also what gives people the strength to fight back. Culture is self determination and resistance. In the Pacific, culture shapes identity, guides navigation, is law, order, governance and forges bonds across generations. While the Pacific is home to a plethora of different cultures, it holds a central position in the lives of communities across the region. Culture can help heal the scars of colonialism, it offers structure, meaning and resilience, and provides a powerful platform for climate leadership.

The fossil fuel industry has actively infiltrated universities, think tanks and other academic bodies in a process of co-option that spans decades. Industry representative bodies and corporations involved in fossil fuel extraction, transport and sales have funded a range of research centres and named faculty chairs at reputable universities across the world. So what does this mean for climate action campaigning?

When I came across Ketan Joshi's post about Energy Town, a strategy game developed by Norwegian oil giant Equinor, that lets kids build their own future city, it struck me as both sinister and oddly inspiring.

Communications professionals face a growing challenge: more and more people are making decisions based on false or misleading information. In response, well-meaning organisations sometimes try to “bust myths”, hoping that facts will trump feelings. But this approach can backfire.

Climate communications shouldn’t just reflect where people are. They should help build the conditions for change. That involves risk, clarity, and a willingness to speak to the hard parts, not just the hopeful ones.

After Labor’s recent election win, many in the climate and environment space breathed a sigh of relief. The Coalition and its nuclear fantasy were resoundingly rejected. In its place, a government that at least says the right things about climate change, even if its policies don’t match the rhetoric. For some, that alone felt like progress. 

But when viewed through the old climate adage that winning slowly is actually losing, can we afford another three, or six, years of muted ambition?

A critical court case last week showed yet again how we have to tell the truth on climate action, even when it’s hard to take.

How many times have you read something along the lines of: “This is our last chance to avoid climate chaos”? Probably more times than you can count. It’s become a climate messaging cliche. It's urgent, emotional, and designed to jolt people into action. But the more we hear it, the less it moves us. When the “last chance" comes quarterly, the phrase stops hitting like an alarm and blends into the background noise. 

With the results of the Australian federal election now largely settled, it seems clear that Australians cast a vote for stability in an increasingly unstable world by returning the Albanese Labor government with an enlarged majority of at least 90 seats.

Here’s what matters from the results as they fell into place.

As talk of a hung parliament grows louder, it’s worth asking: can a minority government deliver meaningful climate action?

History offers some important lessons, both for what’s possible, and what can be undone.

As Campaign Republic grows, we will share our analysis of key issues of concern to our network, including climate action, civil society and democratic space, campaign strategy and tactics, communications and media trends, and global politics.