In one year’s time, the world will meet in Copenhagen to decide the fate of our climate. Leading up to this event are a series of high profile meetings and negotiations—Tokyo, Bali, and this place. The UNFCCC COP 14 negotiations take place in a vast fairground in chilly Poznan, Poland. Delegates and observers from every continent stride the heated walkways that connect the various large buildings. A building for international negotiations; a building for NGOs; a building for the European Delegation. Along the way are booths and displays for solar companies, energy ministries, and environmental organizations. Children’s paintings, photo exhibitions, and giant banners remind us of the urgency of the crisis and the height of the stakes—“Europe, it’s time to lead.” “The world is watching.” “A hard rain’s a gonna fall.” A dying polar bear, looking all too human, holds a styrofoam cup and a cardboard sign—“No coins please, it’s change I need.”
This is the environmental Olympic Games—impeccably organized but inherently unpredictable. In the negotiation hall, nations do battle over every word, of every sentence, of every paragraph, of every draft text which rolls the train of international climate negotiations a little further down the track. At nearby side events, scientists, activists, and politicians present their latest findings, projects, and programs to the world. And informally, thousands of conferees of all backgrounds rub shoulders, share intelligence, forge alliances, exchange factsheets, type blackberry messages and press releases, and make friends over Polish canapés and wine. Can this crew of conferees negotiate an agreement on climate in Poznan, and then in Copenhagen? For the sake of the dying bear, we had better.
