Trump’s withdrawal from key climate treaties

By Adrian Khodavardar

When Donald Trump withdrew the United States from major international climate frameworks, most notably the Paris Climate Agreement, the decision was widely framed as symbolic: a temporary rupture in an otherwise irreversible global transition. That interpretation understates the damage. The US exit did not merely slow climate action; it reshaped how climate cooperation is perceived, contested, and legitimised across the international system.

The United States is not just another signatory to climate treaties. It is the world’s largest historical emitter, a permanent member of the UN Security Council, and the principal architect of post–war multilateralism. When a state of that magnitude labels climate cooperation a “waste of taxpayer dollars” and dismisses international institutions as ‘globalist’ or 'woke', it does more than withdraw. It authorises scepticism elsewhere.

Climate agreements such as the Paris Accord rely almost entirely on normative pressure rather than legal enforcement. There are no sanctions for non–compliance and no international climate police. Instead, the system functions through credibility, trust, and reputational cost. Political scientists have long argued that such regimes are only as strong as the commitment of their most powerful members. Trump’s withdrawal punctured the assumption that climate leadership is a prerequisite for global legitimacy.

The consequences were immediate. Climate–sceptic leaders from Brasília to Canberra found political cover in Washington’s retreat. Brazil’s Jair Bolsonaro echoed Trumpian language on sovereignty and economic freedom while overseeing record levels of Amazon deforestation. Australia delayed emissions reform while insisting that global cooperation was subordinate to national interest. These were not coincidences. They were the ripple effects of a hegemonic force stepping back.

More corrosive still was the rhetorical shift introduced by the Trump administration. By framing climate institutions as ideological projects rather than scientific necessities, climate change was transformed into a cultural battlefield. Climate policy ceased to be about emissions trajectories and became a proxy for broader conflicts over nationalism, identity, and global governance. This reframing travelled easily across borders, particularly within populist movements that thrive on opposition to international elites.

This matters because climate governance is as much discursive as it is material. Norms shape behaviour. When the United States rejected climate multilateralism, it weakened the perception that climate action is a universal obligation. As constructivist scholars have shown, global norms lose force when powerful states refuse to internalise them.

Trump did not merely opt out of climate treaties; he destabilised the norm that climate change demands collective responsibility.

Defenders of Trump’s approach argue that US withdrawal created space for other powers to lead. There is some truth to this. The European Union positioned itself as a standard–bearer for climate ambition, while China increased its diplomatic signalling around green development. But leadership without accountability is fragile, and credibility without historical responsibility is limited. The absence of the United States, responsible for roughly a quarter of cumulative global emissions, hollowed out the moral core of climate negotiations, particularly in the Global South.

Trump did not merely opt out of climate treaties; he destabilised the norm that climate change demands collective responsibility.

For developing states, Trump’s withdrawal reinforced long–standing scepticism that climate governance is unevenly enforced. The principle of “common but differentiated responsibilities”, enshrined in the UN Framework Convention on Climate Change, rests on the expectation that major polluters lead. When the United States walked away, it weakened the bargaining power of poorer states being asked to decarbonise without equivalent financial or technological support.

While President Biden’s re–entry into the Paris Agreement signalled renewed commitment, the damage was already done. Trump’s withdrawal exposed a structural vulnerability in global climate governance: its dependence on political stability within powerful democracies. Climate cooperation, it turns out, is only as durable as the next election cycle in Washington.

The lasting impact of Trump’s climate withdrawals is therefore not confined to emissions data or treaty participation. It lies in the precedent set, that climate leadership is optional, that multilateralism is ideological, and that global responsibility can be subordinated to domestic political theatre. For a crisis defined by long–term risk and collective action, that may prove to be the most dangerous legacy of all.

Image: BIG