As the world faces an existential climate crisis, the immediate, intensifying threat calls for reflection on the efficacy of current solutions. Although rising sea levels, water scarcity and deforestation are happening globally, solutions to combat this issue are largely rooted in Western frameworks. Progress remains nearly stagnant, despite decades of negotiations and climate summits.

It is time we ask: Are we looking for solutions in the wrong places?

Indigenous communities for centuries have maintained a symbiotic relationship with the environment, preserving ecosystems in sustainable adaptive ways. This knowledge may hold keys to climate resilience. In recent years, there has been increased support surrounding the importance of incorporating Indigenous knowledge within climate change governance. However, an ethical dilemma exists: is it right to integrate Indigenous knowledge into global climate governance without also addressing the systems of colonization that have historically excluded, and continue to exclude, these communities?  Is it possible to draw upon this rich knowledge without perpetuating the very power imbalances that fuel the fire of environmental injustice? 

In short: not unless we do it differently.

On Whose Terms?

Indigenous communities in all pockets of the world have successfully protected the planet in ways international frameworks cannot even begin to fathom replicating. For example, the Kayapo people in Brazil have defended large swaths of the Amazon through community-led governance, preserving biodiversity. This sustainable governance is local and decentralized, but more importantly, rooted in deeply symbolic, cultural relationships that Western institutions often struggle to understand. 

Although this specific case study had positive implications, it is crucial to acknowledge how Western institutions have disregarded Indigenous land rights, a tale as old as time. A framework developed by the United Nations known as Reducing Emissions from Deforestation and Forest Degradation (REDD+) can serve as a parallel for conservation in the Amazon. This framework refers to utilizing the forest in developing countries for carbon sequestration to minimize the impacts of climate change (Maharjan and Maharjan, 2017, p.274). However, in Nepal, REDD+ is threatening the livelihoods of Indigenous people as its implementation has failed to respect the challenges Indigenous and forest-dependent communities face (Maharjan and Maharjan, 2017, p.281). Indigenous Peoples have sought to concentrate their rights to be protected from REDD+ as the framework does not center Indigenous voices, further pushing them into the margins. 

Both cases highlight the dilemma: Indigenous systems are effective. However, when global frameworks co-opt those systems without ceding power, they risk reproducing colonial patterns under the guise of environmentalism and sustainability.

In parts of Tanzania and southern Africa, Indigenous communities have long used rainwater harvesting techniques, such as Majaluba basins or rain shrines, to manage limited water supplies. These practices are not only efficient but also culturally and spiritually embedded, offering a holistic approach to resource management that sees water not just as a commodity, but as part of a sacred ecological system. Yet international climate governance often reduces these culturally significant systems to “tools” or “technologies,” detaching them from the communities and values that birthed them. This reductionism isn’t simply disrespectful, it’s dangerous. It risks commodifying Indigenous knowledge while leaving Indigenous people behind.

If global actors want to incorporate these practices, they must also acknowledge the deeper ethical framework that accompanies them. That means honoring Indigenous worldviews, protecting spiritual relationships to land and water, and upholding the right to self-determination.

Inclusion or Appropriation?

At the core of this conversation exists an ethical dilemma: climate change demands urgent action, but decolonization requires time, dialogue, and structural change. Some argue we simply can’t afford to wait. Is jumping from one solution to the other without addressing these deeper injustices truly a solution or just another form of exploitation?

As it stands, Indigenous peoples are still largely excluded from climate decision-making spaces. At COP events, their participation is often limited to side-panels or observer status. Their governance structures aren’t formally recognized, and their voices are often tokenized rather than centered. Meanwhile, policymakers continue to draw on their knowledge for adaptation strategies without offering actual power in return.

This is what scholars call “epistemic extraction”: taking knowledge while ignoring the people who produce it. Without ethical safeguards, such as co-management frameworks, legal protections, and equitable benefit-sharing, any effort to “include” Indigenous knowledge runs the risk of reproducing colonial hierarchies, even under the banner of progress.

What Would Ethical Integration Look Like?

It is crucial to recognize that true sustainability requires epistemic plurality, more than one way of knowing, more than one path forward.

Ethical integration could look like:

• Creating space for Indigenous governance systems within international climate frameworks.
  
• Establishing binding agreements that protect Indigenous data, land, and intellectual property.
  
• Ensuring funding supports Indigenous-led initiatives, not just externally driven projects that use Indigenous methods.
  
• Valuing spiritual and relational understandings of nature alongside technical solutions.
  

In addition to seeking justice, this ethical integration could contribute to designing effective climate strategies. The more diverse our approaches, the more resilient our solutions.

Final Thoughts: Whose Future Are We Building?

Incorporating Indigenous knowledge into climate policy raises critical questions: Who decides what counts as “valid” knowledge? Who benefits from its use? Who is at the table when those decisions are made?

Climate change affects us all, but it does not affect us equally. If we truly want to build a more sustainable world, we have to ask whether our current systems have the capabilities to do so. Indigenous peoples are not only knowledge holders; they are frontline communities, protectors of biodiversity, and innovators in sustainability. If we exclude them, we miss out on the opportunity for deeper, more enduring solutions.

Indigenous knowledge can help solve the climate crisis. But only if it’s included in a way that is ethical, collaborative, and rooted in justice. Otherwise, we’re just repackaging exploitation in green wrapping paper.

Written by Amalia, who is studying International Relations at Institut Barcelona d’Estudis Internacionals.