The déja vu in the energy transition

Where once we dug deep for fossil fuels, today, we dig even deeper for critical minerals. They may be different resources, but their extraction will leave a similar scar on the land, particularly for Indigenous communities who are once again at the forefront of resource extraction’s environmental and cultural toll.

Recent news highlights growing resistance from Indigenous communities worldwide as the global push for energy transition minerals clashes with local rights and ecosystems.

In northern Chile, local Indigenous groups have voiced strong opposition to expanding lithium mining in the Atacama, fearing that the water-intensive extraction process will deplete vital water resources and damage local ecosystems. These concerns are echoed in Nevada, where a proposed lithium mine threatens native plant species, and in Arizona, where the Apache continue to defend sacred lands against mining interests. In Ontario, six Indigenous communities have filed a lawsuit challenging the lack of consultation on mining claims, arguing that the province’s process infringes on their treaty rights.

As the demand for critical minerals accelerates, global climate conferences like Conference of Parties (COP) have become central to setting standards and frameworks for a sustainable energy transition. Yet, despite decades of negotiations, past COPs have largely fallen short in safeguarding Indigenous rights against the extractive pressures of the energy transition. 

While these gatherings recognize the value of Indigenous knowledge and the importance of sustainable practices, actual commitments to protect Indigenous lands and enforce equitable consultation processes are minimal. Instead, outside economic and technological priorities tend to overshadow community-focused solutions, leaving Indigenous leaders with limited influence over decisions that directly affect their land, resources, and cultural heritage. Without a significant shift in approach at COP29, we risk perpetuating a legacy of environmental and cultural harm under a new banner of “green colonialism.”

“History repeats itself, first as tragedy, second as farce”

The West’s first significant energy transition moved us from wood and biomass to coal, driving rapid industrialization. This shift led to extensive coal mining that displaced countless Indigenous communities, devastated the environment, and jeopardized public health.

Next came the surge in oil and gas production, still heavily focused on resource extraction but also introducing pipelines to transport these fuels over greater distances. These pipelines frequently traversed Indigenous territories, causing similar harm. The development of nuclear and hydro energy during this era also perpetuated injustices. In the contemporary context, the current drive towards renewable energy often reflects these historical patterns of displacement and environmental harm.

Each transition, though hailed as progress, has inflicted fresh waves of environmental harm, displacement, and disregard for Indigenous rights, making society almost desensitized to the injustices that follow. This  struggle is now a recurring, almost expected pattern, which is of significant concern, considering the high stakes at play if this extractive cycle continues.

What’s at Stake?

Indigenous Peoples, who represent less than five per cent of the global population, manage lands that make up about 40 per cent of all remaining natural landscapes on Earth, and these lands frequently exhibit higher biodiversity and conservation value, showcasing effective traditional stewardship. The critical minerals rush associated with the energy transition places these territories under immense pressure.

Recent research published in the journal Science Advances highlights the scale of this impact. More than half of all energy transition minerals projects are on or near Indigenous or paysan lands, raising alarm over threats to biodiversity and culturally significant sites. The scale of these risks extends well beyond the environmental impacts, the research found. Approximately, 60 per cent of critical minerals projects in these areas face high water risk as extraction competes with water necessary for food security and daily life. About 70 per cent are in areas with food insecurity, complicating the ability of local communities to sustain themselves while mining activities dominate their landscapes. Lastly, social tensions further amplify these risks, with about 20 per cent of these projects near Indigenous lands are in conflict zones or areas prone to unrest.

A Call for Action

Without stronger safeguards and meaningful involvement of Indigenous voices, the clean energy transition risks repeating past injustice under a new disguise. This means adopting a collaborative model where mining projects are developed with Indigenous communities as business partners, recognizing their traditional knowledge of the impacted lands and allowing them to determine if, where, and how extraction occurs.

Globally, rather than racing independently for minerals, countries should establish a consensus on safe mining standards and sites that minimize harm to both communities and ecosystems. International agreements, such as those at the upcoming COP 29, could enforce guidelines for responsible mining practices for energy transition minerals that respect Indigenous territories.

The irony is stark: a movement intended to heal the planet could end up leaving behind scars eerily similar to those inflicted by fossil fuels. At a minimum, it is essential to ensure that we strive to create a future where, this time, cost of progress isn’t borne by those who have long been its stewards and will continue to do so even in the face of harshest of challenges.