Elliott is a senior director at Laudato Si’ Movement and a fellow of the Yale Program on Climate Change Communication with The Op-Ed Project.
Leaders have been gathering at the United Nations climate summit for the past few weeks, shaping crucial decisions for all humanity. The negotiators in past U.N. climate summits have lacked the courage of their convictions. But this year, Pope Francis, who planned to attend in person, sent an important message to participants. Negotiators should learn from faith leaders like him because they are making the hard choices to implement real climate solutions.
The talks, known as COP28, are the 28th time that countries will try to reduce greenhouse gas pollution while the problem grows – greenhouse gas pollution is now about 50 percent higher than it was 28 years ago.
This has been taking place eight years after the signing of the Paris Agreement, a climate accord that raised hopes for humanity’s ability to dream of a better future together. The signatures on that document represented a commitment to protecting the Earth, our common home, for the benefit of all.
With this in mind, it is a surprising fact that the phrase “fossil fuels” is not mentioned anywhere in the Paris Agreement. This seems like a puzzling oversight, given that there is no question that fossil fuels are a signficant factor in driving the climate crisis. Reducing the impact of fossil fuels is the only way to prevent the worst of the hunger, sickness, conflict and forced migration that climate change brings.
As countries try once again to turn the arc of greenhouse gas pollution downward, they should look to an unexpected source of inspiration. For many years now, leaders in the faith community have been speaking out about the climate crisis and making the difficult decisions needed to implement real solutions.
Pope Francis recently released a high-level statement on the climate crisis, saying “the necessary transition towards clean energy sources such as wind and solar energy, and the abandonment of fossil fuels, is not progressing at the necessary speed.”
Through the Vatican’s sustainability program, over 8,000 institutions and individuals have committed to creating comprehensive plans for action, including making the switch to clean energy. In response to both guidance from Rome and decades of Catholic teaching on climate change, more than 350 Catholic institutions have divested from fossil fuels, making the hard decision to align their financial practices with their values.
Ambitious action is being taken by Catholics in the United States. Dominican Sisters have invested $46 million in a Climate Solutions Fund to support projects in sustainability. A nationwide effort to install solar panels on Catholic facilities has resulted in clean energy powering parishes.
Beyond the Catholic faith, Muslims are embracing clean energy and have issued a prohibition against investments in fossil fuels. Synagogues are installing solar panels and Jewish leaders are developing climate action plans.
Each of these decisions involved months or even years, of deliberation, including challenging conversations with community members, financial advisors and facilities managers. Yet despite the challenges, faith leaders didn’t let the challenges stop them because they know that the urgent need to protect our brothers and sisters from the climate crisis is imperative.
National leaders face far more complex challenges but the science remains the same. Either we stop climate change, or climate change will stop us. Now is the time for action.
A golden tray sits on the Resolute Desk as President Donald Trump speaks during an announcement on American nuclear innovation in the Oval Office at the White House on July 24, 2026, in Washington, D.C. Trump is signing multiple executive orders targeting the nuclear energy sector and easing rules for new reactors and nuclear fuel supply chains.
Trump’s hubris rivals the fallen heroes of ancient Greek mythology
In January, the New York Times asked President Donald Trump if there were any limits on his global powers.
“Yeah,” the president responded, “there is one thing. My own morality. My own mind. It’s the only thing that can stop me.”
That was eight months ago, but fortunately Christopher Nolan’s blockbuster adaptation of “The Odyssey” has made ancient Greek literature newly relevant. Before that window closes, I’d like to talk about hubris.
Today, the term mostly means excessive pride or arrogance. That’s part of what the Greeks meant by it too, but the meaning was a bit richer and more specific. Hubris was an insolent or outrageous act that offended the gods, often because the transgressor was claiming abilities or authorities that solely belonged to supreme beings.
Nolan renamed and slightly modified the concept of xenia for the film, calling it “Zeus’ law.” In the director’s telling, mortals should follow the rules laid out by the gods, specifically the requirement to treat strangers with respect lest they be gods in disguise.
In a sense, hubris is the opposite, or at least the rejection, of xenia. The hubris of the suitors, and at times Odysseus himself, invites punishment by the gods and their mortal instruments.
Which brings me back to Donald Trump. His claim that there are no constraints on his personal power to dictate events on the global stage was one of the greatest expressions of hubris ever uttered by a political leader.
Trump’s claim was obviously false when he made it.
He vowed that he could end the Russia-Ukraine war in 24 hours. He’s proved powerless to make that happen. If he had divine powers to work his will, why would he have balked at implementing his tariffs so often that Wall Street adopted the “TACO trade” term for his deals? “TACO” stands for “Trump always chickens out.”
And why would Trump have made so many embarrassing concessions to China — from rescinding tariffs on Chinese goods to allowing them to buy crucial and incredibly valuable computer chips?
But Trump saw his success at capturing Venezuelan strongman Nicolas Maduro as proof of his ability to launch missiles to the same effect as Zeus’ lightning bolts. Trump believed he was the most powerful man who ever lived.
This is no exaggeration. In March, when the Iran invasion seemed successful, Trump gave a document penned by“Presidential Historian David King” to New York Times reporters Maggie Haberman and Jonathan Swan purporting to prove that Trump was “the most powerful person to have EVER walked this planet.” King was, in fact, a businessman and occasional caddy for legendary golfer Gary Player.
King compared Trump favorably to many of history’s most powerful, and often heinous, figures: Alexander the Great, Attila the Hun, William the Conqueror, Napoleon Bonaparte, Joseph Stalin, Genghis Khan, Mao Tse Tung, Adolf Hitler and Vladimir Lenin. Many of these men thought they were the most powerful person in the world, too. And many were defeated precisely because they believed it.
At least Napoleon and Hitler had a string of truly impressive victories before they learned the folly of hubris. The limits on Trump’s power have been exposed by far less august forces than the combined might of the allies in World War II or the fearsome Russian winter.
Iran is a comparatively middling power. But the regime’s ability to absorb punishment while imposing its will on the Strait of Hormuz has proved to be a greater constraint on Trump’s power than his morality or mind. We should note that, at least rhetorically, his morality has not proved much of a constraint. He has repeatedly promised to destroy Iranian “civilization” if the regime refuses to capitulate.
But they haven’t — and won’t anytime soon — because the regime’s tolerance for pain far outstrips Trump’s. The combined fear of skyrocketing oil prices, outrage of Gulf state potentates, diminishing weapon supplies and domestic unpopularity is doing the work that international law, congressional oversight and the collective opinion of foreign policy experts can’t or won’t do.
If I considered Trump more heroic than reason and facts could allow, I would say his Sisyphean predicament has the whiff of Greek tragedy to it. Trump is vexed by the fact that the Iranians won’t honor deals or ratify his countless premature claims of victory — giving new meaning to his vow that his presidency would make people tired of winning. It’s almost like they’re out-Trumping Trump.
Things might have gone better if he’d heeded that great Greek tragedian Sophocles: “For Zeus utterly abhors the boasts of a proud tongue.”
____
Jonah Goldberg is editor-in-chief of The Dispatch and the host of The Remnant podcast. His Twitter handle is @JonahDispatch.