From Waldo Cerdan – June 20 2025
Once again this morning, radio news sounded the alarm : it's going to be hot. Very hot. A heatwave is coming. And once again, we get the usual common-sense advice: drink regularly, avoid physical activity during the hottest hours, take care of the elderly.
But right after that, a far more crucial piece of information is quietly mentioned: according to a scientific study published in June 2025, the global carbon budget compatible with limiting temperature rise to 1.5 °C could be exhausted… within three years (Rössler et al., Earth System Science Data, 2025).
Three years. Not thirty. Three. And no one seems alarmed. Not the government, not the opposition, not even the media—except perhaps a small box in the 'Planet' section. As if the forecast were simply for a cloudy weekend.
The latest IPCC synthesis report (AR6, 2021) estimated that in early 2020, 300 gigatonnes of CO₂ remained to keep a 83% chance of staying below +1.5 °C (IPCC, AR6 Synthesis Report, 2021). That budget has now shrunk to 130 GtCO₂ for a 50% chance, and just 80 GtCO₂ for a 66% chance. And if we aim for a more precautionary 83% probability, the remaining budget collapses even further—down to just a few dozen gigatonnes. At our current pace of 40 GtCO₂ per year (Global Carbon Project, 2023), that threshold will be crossed between 2027 and 2028.Yet no alarm bells are ringing. Heatwaves are treated like any other weather event, while we have a full-scale climate crash on final approach.
Imagine a pilot discovering a massive fuel leak just before flying over the Himalayas. The only rational response is to declare a mayday situation—immediate danger, full assistance of support systems, and top priority for survival.
But when it comes to the announced depletion of the global carbon budget, our response is... awareness campaigns for responsible air conditioning, hydration reminders, and paternalistic advice to avoid exertion in the afternoon sun.
The world, clearly, runs upside down.
Holding yet another COP30 in a tropical capital with air conditioning is now beside the point. What we need is a permanent climate emergency assembly, operating under an urgent mandate, guided not by diplomacy but by physics.
A planetary emergency governance structure, freed from electoral and ideological inertia, led by lucid minds, focused on resolving the glaring imbalances between what needs to be done, what technology can do, and what can realistically be implemented to meet present and future needs—not on chanting mantras like 'we must triple renewables and double energy efficiency' (COP 28 conclusions).
Yes, at some point we will have to think beyond green growth, and fundamentally rethink our needs, our habits, our narratives. In short, finally ask the real question: what do we need to thrive collectively in a constrained world? And that means revolutionizing our relationship with the world—in the true Copernican sense.
Belgium, like many others, fails to shine with creativity. No major water management plan. No systemic thinking about energy use. Not even a public display of the current climate risk level. And yet, it would be both possible and simple to:
- deploy a real-time carbon dashboard, accessible to all;
- promote intelligent, sensor-based energy sobriety with feedback and visualization in public and private buildings;
- redirect public investment toward resilience, not just green GDP growth.
But here too, absurdity reigns: when asked about the rollout of smart water meters for better resource management, the Environment Minister’s office responded politely—but with empty words: 'not planned, because of GDPR'.
And when the Climate Minister was asked about allowing citizens equipped with 'smart' electricity meters to track their real-time consumption, there was no answer at all. Just silence. As if accountability were optional when dealing with systemic risk.
The question that logically follows from these two interactions is blunt: is there still such a thing as political governance?
It is still time to avoid the worst. But soon it won’t be time to avoid the inevitable. While fans fly off supermarket shelves and public messaging infantilizes us, the global carbon budget melts away, never to return.
So yes, drink cold water. But don’t forget that what we’re burning isn’t just our comfort. It’s our future.
To those about to shout 'Down with the pessimists!', I suggest a short read: 'Between morbid pessimism and bovine bliss, is there still room for lucidity?'
It reminds us, at the very least, that pessimism is not defeatism—and that a fight is never lost until we choose to stop fighting. Or until we’re dead.