“It’s a huge problem, a real and present threat.”
That was former US secretary of state John Kerry’s answer when I asked him last week about the shrinking space for trusted, fact-based climate reporting.
We were talking at the Sustainable Markets Initiative event in London’s Hampton Court Palace. The line stayed with me, not least because of where I was hearing it: in a Tudor setting, amid an extraordinary concentration of capital and influence.
As I walked through the gates of what was once King Henry VIII’s palace, I found myself thinking about the many gatherings of power it must have seen over the centuries. And I couldn’t help but wonder if any had matched the array of influence, and wealth, that had collected under the aegis of an organisation run by Henry’s great nephew nine times removed, King Charles III. Monarchy may no longer be absolute, but it certainly still has convening power.
In this case, the stated theory of change behind the initiative is clear enough: bring together business, finance and governments to help unlock the trillions needed for a greener future.
But what really struck me, seeing it at close quarters, was not just the scale of the gathering but the certainty of the mood.
The palace was filled with more than 200 global CEOs. In the first session I attended, three senior figures from the nuclear industry were making the case for nuclear as part of a carbon-free portfolio. Googling quickly I found that they likely represented, conservatively, around USD 100 billion of capital between them.
The message repeated, again and again, was that the transition to a clean, profitable future is no longer a matter of aspiration. For many in the room, it is already strategic and commercial fact.
That is what made Secretary Kerry’s warning about climate journalism so striking. Because we are living in an increasingly fractured world: geopolitically, economically, informationally. Public space for reasoned, fact-based reporting is shrinking. Think of the cuts at the Washington Post including most of its award-winning climate team, or the closure of Thomson Reuters Foundation’s Context Newsroom as two examples. And this contraction is occurring just as climate becomes more deeply entangled with war, trade, industrial policy and great-power rivalry.
A few minutes after the session from the nuclear executives, Secretary Kerry made a point that’s been heard often over these past few tumultuous months but bears repetition. The war in the Gulf could accelerate the clean energy transition. “There is no security if you are dependent on the Strait of Hormuz,” he said. “You need energy independence.”
The argument was clearly resonating. Repeatedly, fossil fuel dependence was described not just as an environmental liability, but as a strategic vulnerability. Renewable energy, by contrast, was framed as resilience: a route to sovereignty, stability and long-term economic advantage.
“We stand here at a point of very considerable opportunity; we have a breakdown in an order which has had its day… I see fossil fuels as a weapon of war. Renewable energy is a weapon of peace.” That quote came not from a Green politician, but from Andrew Forrest, founder and executive chair of Australian mining giant, Fortescue.
The geopolitics of the transition were visible in another way too: the prominence of China.
There were two panels dedicated to green partnerships with China. Forrest spoke about Fortescue’s agreement with Chinese steel group Tisco on green steel technology. Chinese participants, led by Ren Hongbin of the China Council for the Promotion of International Trade, stressed China’s role as a partner in global sustainability.
In a conversation with me, Kerry put it clearly and succinctly: “Climate is a universal issue and everyone in the world has an interest in what the two largest economies and the two largest emitters are doing, not to mention the dominant country in clean energy.”
For all the confidence in the room, the real test of this transition will not be whether it can command applause at elite gatherings, but whether capital, technology and political attention flow to parts of the world where the stakes are highest. That means the Global South: where climate vulnerability is greatest, energy demand is rising, and where a “just transition” will mean very little if finance remains slow, conditional or out of reach.
There was also a conspicuous absence at the gathering. There were very few business figures from the United States in attendance, and no political representation that I could see. Given Washington’s current direction, that absence was understandable. What was more interesting was how little it seemed to trouble the people present.
The prevailing view appeared to be that the transition would move forward anyway – that capital, industry and geopolitical necessity are already pushing it on.
Let’s hope so. But that is precisely why Kerry’s first warning matters so much.
If the sustainable transition is becoming a defining arena of economic and geopolitical power, then the need for trusted journalism only grows. We need reporting that can do more than cheerlead: reporting that can explain, scrutinise, humanise and connect the dots in a world where climate is no longer a siloed issue, but bound up with security, trade and power.
At Hampton Court, I saw plenty of confidence that the transition is coming. I left thinking just as much about who will explain it honestly to the wider world.
