COP19 part III: The little UN thing that could

“It is the 19^th COP, Mr. President, but we might as well stop counting, because my country refuses to accept that a COP30 or a COP40 will be needed to solve climate change.”

--Yeb Sano, Head of Philippines Delegation. 11/11/13

There are people that spend their lives devoted to the next COP. They have read all the briefs, reports addendums and statements put out by national and international institutions which have been stripped down to their bare acronyms.

They speak legalese, politicese and consider reading things like, “In accordance with the “Guidelines for the preparation of national communications by Parties included in Annex I to the Convention, Part II: UNFCCC reporting guidelines on national communications”, at a minimum Parties shall report a ‘with measures’ scenario, and may report ‘without measures’ and ‘with additional measures’ scenarios. If a Party chooses to report ‘without measures’ and/or ‘with additional measures’ scenarios they are to use tables 6(b) and/or 6(c), respectively,” a perfectly acceptable way to pass time.

I am not one of these people.

The result is that I never have any idea what anyone is talking about. I recently watched two of my colleagues have a conversation with so many numbers, acronyms and referrals to obscure briefs I started to feel my brain slide down my gullet. That’s when one of them broke off and said to me, “You know, I often have to have someone there to explain to me what’s going on.”

If he doesn’t know what people are talking about, where does that leave me? Post-lobotomy comes to mind.

The halls, galleries, salons and auditoriums are filled with these people. At least, everywhere except the press room. This is where most of us spend our days; either hammering away at a keyboard, staring blankly into the middle distance, or curled in the foetal position under our desks.

Admittedly, I haven’t actually visited a plenary session yet. I’ve only watched them on the large TV in the press room. This alone has firmed my intention to get steaming drunk before I actually do. However, I have asked around for the inside scoop on these things. This is the way a plenary session appears to work:

Anywhere from five to 500 people all sit in an auditorium facing a raised platform. They are the delegates; chosen by their respective country to represent their country’s interest. They have been chosen, not only because they own a suit, but because they have achieved high marks in their respective country’s Stubborn Nitpickers Test. Upon the raised platform are other people in suits who moderate. There are about eight of them. Everyone is there to come to a decision about something.

Are you starting to see a problem here?

Mere mortals, like you and me – and as long as you are NON-GOVERNMENTAL, PRESS or PARTY (see here) – are allowed to attend the open session. This is the time when they “discuss”, let’s say, a proposal made by Brazil (a developed country) about how much cash they’d give to Micronesia (a developing country) if all the islands were sucked into a sinkhole due to ocean-floor mining for minerals. The answer, by the way, would be: None.

After a long introduction by the lead moderator, he offers the floor to anyone who wants to comment on the proposal. Inevitably and unfortunately, someone always does. But before they get into the actual comment they must, by some unspoken agreement, give a long, and often Oscar-worthy thanks to everyone in the room, the organizers, the country they’re in and their home country. If they are following-up on someone else’s comment there is a diplomatic, deeply heartfelt thanks to the previous delegate’s contribution before they proceed to eviscerate them with the same zest as a hyena with an antelope carcass:

“I respect the cherished, esteemed, well-adjusted and highly intelligent delegate from Thailand’s comment concerning the fact that he too comes from a small island with the same challenges, such as being entirely submerged by a tidal-wave, but he is a worthless piece of toilet slime who knows nothing and should be immediately removed from the room for stealing my oxygen.”

When they finally do get around to the actual comment it’s usually some nitpicky stuff about the use of the term “clean water” instead of “potable water” or “life-raft” instead of “life-boat”.

All five to 500 people get to do this, or comment on someone else’s nitpickyness with nitpickyness of their own. Or do both. This is probably why they need so many moderators; five to hold the delegate down, two to pry their mouth open and the last to hold their tongue still.

Whenever someone comments, the image I have in my mind is of throwing a Mexican jumping bean into a packed chicken coup.

After this goes on for a while, the moderators kick everyone out of the room who doesn't have a lanyard with a badge saying “PARTY” hanging from it. Naturally, I have no idea what goes on at this point. I do know that whatever it is, it can go until the wee hours of the morning. Maybe this is when the actual PARTY activates.

It could be just me, but 500 people packed in a room, at three a.m., after nine hours of discussion, with entirely different agendas, trying to work out the details of a single sentence, doesn't really sound like an ideal decision-making process...