Legal minds in international law are trying to interpret the scope and impact of the landmark advisory opinion on climate change by the International Court of Justice (ICJ), where it said that states have a duty to
prevent significant harm to the environment.
When the rains pounded through the night, 44-year-old Teresia Katimba clutched her rosary and prayed silently, her fingers trembling with each whispered Hail Mary. A devout Catholic and mother of four, she stayed awake, huddling her children, hoping the floodwaters wouldn’t engulf them.
The case was “unlike any that have previously come before the court,” President of the International Court of Justice Judge Yuji Iwasawa said while reading the court's unanimous advisory opinion outlining the legal obligations of United Nations member states with regard to climate change.
As Deviben Dhaundhaliya, 45, a streetside seller of artificial jewelry, waits for her husband Devabhai to arrive and help her shift their iron-frame mobile ‘shop’ to the Bhadra Fort open-air marketplace in Ahmedabad city, she tells of how “as heat increased, my wares started melting under the direct exposure to the sun, or they got discolored.”
On the vast plains of Tanzania’s Ngorongoro Conservation Area (NCA), the sight of young Maasai men in bright shawls, wielding sticks as they herd cattle, has long symbolized peaceful coexistence with nature. These herders, moving in harmony with zebras and wildebeests, are inseparable from the landscape. But today, that very identity—nurtured for generations—is under siege.
With less than six harvest seasons left to meet the Sustainable Development Goals (SDGs), the urgency to find transformative solutions to end hunger, protect the oceans, and build climate resilience dominated the ninth panel session at the 2025 United Nations Ocean Conference in Nice, France.
With the future of the world’s oceans hanging in the balance, global leaders, scientists, and activists gathered in the French Riviera city of Nice this week for the historic UN Ocean Conference, where France declared a new era of high seas governance and marine protection.
The third United Nations Ocean Conference (UNOC3) concluded today in Nice with an urgent call for governments to translate bold words into concrete action to protect the world’s oceans. Co-hosted by France and Costa Rica, the summit brought together more than 15,000 participants, including 50 heads of state and government, civil society leaders, scientists, youth, and Indigenous communities in an 11-day event hailed as both a milestone for ocean diplomacy and a test of global resolve.
Just before dawn, a flotilla of wooden canoes drifts silently through mangrove-tangled channels where roots sprout from the black mud of the lagoon. Here, at the edge between sea and forest, lies a story of restoration.
At the 2025 United Nations Ocean Conference (UNOC3), the United Nations Environment Programme (UNEP) and the Food and Agriculture Organization (FAO) recognized three countries and regions for their large-scale programs to restore their native ecosystems.
As the curtains draw on the UN Ocean Conference, a flurry of voluntary commitments and political declarations has injected fresh impetus into global efforts to conserve marine biodiversity. With the world’s oceans facing unprecedented threats, high-level biodiversity officials and negotiators are sounding the alarm and calling for renewed momentum—and funding—to deliver on long-standing promises.
The 2025 UN Ocean Conference (UNOC3) has seen a significant presence from Indigenous peoples, who insist that their perspective and guidance be taken into account in the global efforts for sustainable ocean use and conservation. The sense of responsibility to the ocean and recognition of its history is an example that the international community can learn from.
Once cast as a culprit of ocean degradation, the global shipping industry is quietly reshaping its image—with experts now betting on it as a key ally in saving our seas.
Prime Minister of Tuvalu, Feleti Teo, describes himself as an optimist—despite the existential crisis his atoll nation faces with climate change-induced sea level rise and frustration with existing international financial mechanisms to fund adaptation and mitigation.
Just before dawn, the worn wooden dhows begin gliding toward the shore at Magogoni fish market in Tanzania’s port city of Dar es Salaam. Their tattered sails flutter against the orange sky. Exhausted fishers step out onto the muddy sand, hauling frayed nets and plastic crates, their sun-creased faces tight with fatigue.
As the sun peeked through the French Riviera clouds and a dozen reporters sipped orange juice aboard the WWF Panda Boat docked at Port Lympia, Frankie Orona, a Native American rights advocate from the Society of Native Nations in San Antonio, Texas, stunned the room into a moment of absolute stillness.
To the outside world, a sea level rise of 34 cm (or slightly longer than a child’s ruler) may not seem dramatic, but it’s an existential threat to the Pacific island state of Vanuatu.
Under the surface of Tanzania’s turquoise waters, a miracle unfolds quietly every day.
“There is no climate action without ocean action,” President Hilda Heine of the Marshall Islands told reporters, as she and other representatives of Pacific island states reiterated that countries must honor their climate action agreements.
While the island states in the Pacific may be modest, the ocean that surrounds them represents a huge oceanic state—an area equivalent to the entire European Continent.
A groundbreaking initiative to revolutionize global ocean observation is being launched this week at the UN Ocean Conference side event, aiming to enlist 10,000 commercial ships to collect and transmit vital ocean and weather data by 2035.