On a humid afternoon in the Sundarbans, a group of women stand knee-deep in brackish water, pressing mangrove saplings into the mud. Each sapling is fragile, but together they form a living barrier against cyclones, tidal surges, and erosion. For their work, these women earn a modest income. But what they are really building is resilience — for their families, their communities, and a coastline increasingly exposed to climate shocks.
This is what climate action should look like: local, participatory, and rooted in justice.
Science strongly supports what these women already know. Along India’s eastern coast, mangroves act as natural shields against extreme weather. Recent evidence shows that mangrove forests in Odisha’s Bhitarkanika region helped reduce the destructive impact of cyclones by weakening tidal surges and wind intensity. Studies following the 1999 Super Cyclone also found that villages protected by mangroves experienced significantly lower mortality and damage compared to those without such cover.
And yet, far from these ecosystems, a very different model of climate action is gaining ground — one that risks reducing the climate crisis to a matter of accounting.
Voluntary carbon markets have expanded rapidly over the past decade. Their premise is simple: companies that cannot immediately reduce emissions can offset them by financing projects elsewhere that reduce or absorb carbon. In theory, this channels climate finance to vulnerable regions.
In practice, the reality is far more complex — and troubling.
A growing body of research has raised serious concerns about the environmental integrity of carbon credits. Questions of “additionality” — whether emissions reductions would have happened anyway — remain difficult to verify. Studies suggest that a significant share of credits, particularly in forestry and land-use sectors, may overestimate their climate benefits.
ActionAid’s research adds an important dimension to this critique. Its report, Caution Required: Protecting Communities from Carbon Markets, highlights how carbon offset projects often fail to deliver promised emission reductions while creating new risks for vulnerable communities. It underscores how some forest-based credits may not represent real climate gains, reinforcing concerns that carbon markets can create an illusion of progress rather than actual mitigation.
The implications are serious. If companies rely on such credits to claim “carbon neutrality”, emissions may continue largely unabated, undermining global climate goals. Offsets risk becoming a substitute for the difficult but necessary transition away from fossil fuels.
But the deeper concern lies not just in carbon accounting — it lies in people’s lives.
Across parts of Africa and Asia, land is increasingly being reimagined as a “carbon sink”, attracting investors and governments eager to tap into global markets. In this process, communities who have long depended on these ecosystems often find themselves excluded from decision-making.
There are numerous instances where projects linked to carbon markets have led to restricted access to forests, livelihood disruptions, or inadequate consultation. In some cases, communities receive only a small share of project benefits while bearing the social and ecological costs. These patterns have led to growing concerns about what is now termed “carbon colonialism”.
The phrase may sound provocative, but it reflects a real and uncomfortable tension: climate solutions designed elsewhere are being implemented on lands where local voices are often the weakest.
And yet, it would be a mistake to dismiss all carbon-linked climate initiatives.
The Sundarbans offers a different pathway — one rooted in community, ecology, and lived realities. Community-led mangrove restoration efforts, supported by organisations such as ActionAid, show how climate action can be both effective and equitable. Women are actively engaged in raising nurseries, collecting seeds, and restoring degraded mangrove patches — generating incomes while strengthening natural defences.
The benefits are immediate. Mangroves not only reduce cyclone impacts but also support biodiversity, stabilise coastlines, and sustain livelihoods through fisheries, fuelwood, and non-timber forest produce.
Equally important is how these initiatives are implemented. They rely on community participation, local knowledge, and transparent ecological monitoring, rather than inflated carbon claims. As studies from the Sundarbans underline, ecological protection and livelihoods are deeply intertwined — undermining one inevitably weakens the other.
This contrast highlights a crucial lesson: climate solutions are not just about reducing emissions, but about how those reductions are achieved.
India’s policy framework reflects this dual challenge. The National Action Plan on Climate Change (NAPCC) emphasises both mitigation and adaptation, alongside equity and sustainable development. At the same time, emerging global mechanisms under Article 6 of the Paris Agreement are likely to expand the role of carbon markets in the years ahead.
This makes it imperative to proceed with caution.
Carbon markets, if poorly governed, risk becoming a convenient escape route — allowing emitters to delay meaningful transitions while shifting burdens onto the most vulnerable. But with strong safeguards, they could still play a limited, complementary role.
Three principles are essential.
First, emission reductions must take precedence. Offsets cannot replace deep decarbonisation. Like Switching to clean energy (solar, wind, green hydrogen), Redesigning systems (cities, transport, agriculture, industry) and Reducing overall demand (efficiency + behavioural change).
Second, the integrity of carbon credits must be strengthened through rigorous standards, transparent accounting, and independent verification.
Third, and most importantly, community rights must be non-negotiable. Free, prior and informed consent must be central to all climate interventions.
Ultimately, the climate crisis is not just about carbon — it is about justice.
The women in the Sundarbans are not planting carbon credits. They are planting protection, dignity, and hope. Their work reminds us that the future of climate action will not be decided in distant markets or balance sheets, but in whether we choose to centre people, ecosystems, and equity.
Because without justice, there can be no real solution to climate change.
Debabrat Patra is Associate Director and Humanitarian Lead and Surajit Neogi is Regional Manager, West Bengal. Both work for the ActionAid Association
The views expressed in this article are individual and do not necessarily reflect that of the organisation.
Views expressed are the authors’ own and don’t necessarily reflect those of Down To Earth