Majid Nabi Burfat
“The Earth is not dying—it is being killed. And those who are killing it have names and addresses.” This piercing assertion by Utah Phillips resonates profoundly on Earth Day 2025, as we confront the stark reality that environmental degradation is not an abstract phenomenon but the result of deliberate actions and entrenched global systems of exploitation. It is not simply about neglect—it is about wilful disregard by industries, power elites, and complicit states that continue to prioritize economic growth over ecological balance.
This year’s Earth Day theme, Our Power, Our Planet, underscores the urgent need to transition from fossil fuels to renewable energy sources. Despite the clear benefits of renewables—including the potential to create 14 million new jobs globally and to provide clean energy to the 3.8 billion people currently lacking adequate access—progress remains sluggish and uncoordinated. The slogan reflects more than aspiration; it is a warning: the power to heal or to harm lies with us. And yet, the burden of reversing this trajectory seems disproportionately shouldered by grassroots movements and youth activists rather than powerful state apparatuses or multinational conglomerates.
The modern Earth Day movement was born in 1970, galvanized by growing ecological consciousness in the wake of environmental disasters such as the 1969 Santa Barbara oil spill. That seminal moment drew 20 million Americans to the streets, pressuring the U.S. government to establish the Environmental Protection Agency (EPA) and pass pivotal legislation like the Clean Air Act. The idea of Earth Day quickly became global, and over the decades, it evolved from protest to policy. However, policy alone has not been enough. Despite five decades of commemorations, global emissions have skyrocketed, and the biodiversity collapse is accelerating.
In response to mounting threats, the United Nations developed frameworks like the Sustainable Development Goals (SDGs), most notably Goal 13: Climate Action, and spearheaded multilateral climate initiatives through UN agencies and intergovernmental forums like the UNFCCC (United Nations Framework Convention on Climate Change). Yet, despite lofty declarations and binding accords, the outcomes have remained disappointing. COP (Conference of Parties) summits, from COP21 in Paris to COP28 in Dubai, have largely produced incremental pledges riddled with exemptions, vague timetables, and non-binding clauses. The Paris Agreement of 2015 promised to limit global warming well below 2°C, aiming for 1.5°C, but recent data reveals that we are far off track, with 2023 and 2024 already pushing beyond the 1.5°C threshold in consecutive months.
Indeed, the consequences of inaction are devastating and immediate. In January 2025, Earth experienced its hottest month on record, with global temperatures averaging 1.75°C above pre-industrial levels. This marks the 18th out of the last 19 months where temperatures have reached or exceeded this critical threshold, underscoring the quickening pace of climate instability. The planet’s cryosphere is melting at a rate never before recorded, sea levels are rising, and desertification is threatening both agriculture and human settlement. Climate refugees are no longer projections; they are realities.
Water scarcity further compounds these issues. By 2030, global freshwater demand is projected to outpace supply by 40%, jeopardizing over half of the world’s agricultural production. Food security is intrinsically linked to climate, and such imbalances threaten the very foundation of civil society. Pakistan, a nation highly vulnerable to climate extremes, offers a sobering example. Its per capita water availability has plummeted from 5,650 cubic meters in 1951 to a dire 860 today. Crop failures, glacial meltwater mismanagement, urban smog, and recurring heatwaves have become annual phenomena—each more intense than the last.
Despite the establishment of Environmental Protection Agencies, climate change ministries, and climate adaptation plans, implementation remains lackluster. Political short-termism, insufficient funding, and bureaucratic inertia continue to thwart meaningful progress. Even when environmental regulations are enacted, enforcement is weak, often undermined by corporate lobbying or geopolitical expediency. The gap between what is promised in international forums and what is practiced on the ground has never been wider. The UN’s own report on the Emissions Gap warned that under current trajectories, we are headed towards a 2.8°C rise by the century’s end—an existential threat.
This reality is not lost on the people. A recent global survey revealed that 89% of citizens support urgent government action on climate change, yet most believe their fellow citizens do not share this urgency—creating a “spiral of silence” that stifles collective will. Meanwhile, the fossil fuel industry continues to expand operations, often under the guise of “transitional energy,” and governments fall back on familiar but outdated economic growth models.
Earth Day 2025, however, offers more than a moment of mourning—it is a call to action. If implemented effectively, the shift to renewable energy could be a game-changer. Not only would it significantly curb emissions, but it would also democratize energy access and bring down health costs related to fossil fuel pollution, which currently claims over 8 million lives annually due to air contamination alone. Cities and communities are beginning to lead where national governments lag. In Detroit, for example, urban reforestation projects using sequoia trees aim to improve air quality and reinvigorate neglected neighborhoods. In the Global South, decentralized solar and wind cooperatives are offering power to off-grid villages.
Yet the effort must go deeper. It is not enough to plant trees once a year or post an Earth Day quote on social media. What is needed is structural transformation—of economies, of energy systems, and of mindsets. Climate action must be inclusive, intergenerational, and intersectional, considering the disproportionate impact on women, the poor, and indigenous communities. It must hold polluters accountable, dismantle greenwashing, and amplify climate justice. International financial institutions must no longer bankroll dirty energy projects under the pretext of development, and rich nations must honour their climate finance commitments to vulnerable countries.
In essence, Earth Day 2025 is not simply a day to reflect—it is a moment to reckon. Reckon with our complicity, our passivity, and our deferred accountability. The climate crisis is not an impending storm—it is already here, intensifying by the hour. The time for half-measures is long past. Either we act as one planet with one shared destiny, or we continue to fracture into warring islands of privilege and despair. The choice is stark, and the hour late—but not yet too late.
— Majid Burfat Former Civil Servant, Mentor, Social Development Practitioner, Educationist, Columnist
