BRICS+ inductive scenario: A competence fantasy

Premise: Functional by design

By 2040, BRICS+ emerges as the world’s most effective climate alliance—not through luck, but through shrewd strategy, sovereign solidarity, and an uncanny ability to turn adversity into opportunity. What begins as a pushback against western hypocrisy evolves into a multipolar green order, driven by energy pragmatism, diplomatic agility, and some rather bold infrastructure experiments.

How it happens

The west’s green hypocrisy backfires (2025–2030)

The European Union launches its much-touted carbon border tax with great fanfare—and little diplomacy. In the Global South, it is promptly dubbed “eco-colonialism in spreadsheets”. Meanwhile, the United States fails to pass its second Green New Deal, after a series of fiscal deadlocks and an unexpected banking crisis send climate funding into retreat.

BRICS+ seizes the vacuum with confidence. China, having finally tackled its domestic airpocalypse, begins exporting solar panels and wind turbines at scale—available exclusively via yuan-denominated contracts. It’s not just clean energy; it’s clean energy with conditions.

India rolls out its “solar Gandhi” initiative, flooding East Africa with decentralised microgrids accompanied by an aggressive soft-power campaign of Gandhian quotes, khadi-branded battery packs, and chai-powered diplomacy.

Brazil, for its part, decides to bypass western carbon credit middlemen entirely. By launching a direct-to-market exchange within BRICS+, it sells Amazonian carbon credits on its own terms—funding both reforestation and the increasingly urgent cause of rainforest sovereignty.

We realised we didn’t need lectures from brussels. We needed our own grid. — Rashmi Banerjee, chief negotiator, India-Africa solar compact

The “OPEC for renewables” shock (2031)

A sudden dip in Saudi Arabia’s remaining oil reserves sparks panic in energy markets. In a masterstroke of narrative and policy, Riyadh announces a national pivot to “Solar Arabia,” transforming its deserts into glistening hydrogen farms with the flourish only petro-monarchs can manage.

Russia, realising its gas pipelines have become less asset and more liability, dives headfirst into Arctic wind power. The turbines are, inexplicably, emblazoned with Putin’s face. Nobody asks why. Nobody dares.

Seizing the moment, BRICS+ launches its Green Development Bank—a lender with no taste for austerity clauses or moral lectures. The bank starts pumping infrastructure loans into geothermal plants in Kenya, tidal farms in Indonesia, and a parade of green megaprojects that make the IMF look like a penny shop.

Some laughed when we said we’d beat norway on wind. They are not laughing now. — Igor Petrov, Russian minister of energy transition

The climate refugee breakthrough (2035)

As Europe doubles down on fortress borders and biometric fences, BRICS+ unveils something almost unthinkable in international politics: climate visas. Migrants aren’t treated as threats—they’re seen as allies.

The UAE unveils a labour visa programme explicitly tied to its solar mega-projects, offering displaced people dignified work under the desert sun. Russia, in a bid to populate its vast and chilly east, rebrands it the “green east”, opening it up to climate resettlers from the Global South with promises of energy, autonomy, and government-subsidised thermal socks.

India, not to be outdone, unveils its first “cool city” on the Deccan Plateau: a solar-powered, AI-planned urban refuge, complete with autonomous rickshaws, decentralised energy grids, and community gardens run by climate migrants turned stewards of resilience.

Meanwhile, the New Development Bank launches the “green ruble”, a carbon-backed currency used for climate infrastructure projects across Africa and Central Asia. It is widely mocked in the west—right up until it starts being accepted at border crossings, solar auctions, and debt negotiations.

Why build walls when you can build cities? — Maya Joshi, urban minister, India

The ultimate power move (2040): “You sank our emissions, now we own the sky”

With a robust green alliance in place, BRICS+ makes its most audacious move yet. The coalition buys up the global carbon credit market, effectively cornering emissions trading like a climate-conscious Bond villain. Debt relief for Global South nations is now explicitly linked to reforestation and emission sinks. Save trees, cancel debt. It’s wildly popular.

After decades of ice-cold diplomacy, China and India broker a historic détente, enabling the construction of a Himalayan solar belt—a monumental infrastructure project delivering uninterrupted clean energy from Nepal to Singapore.

The 2040 COP50 summit is held in Mumbai. Climate ministers from the United States and European Union arrive, hopeful and a little sheepish. They ask to join the BRICS+ climate initiatives. The answer is diplomatic, of course, but not without teeth: yes, they may join—but the price is gold, lithium, or full surrender of carbon sovereignty. Smiles all around. The dosa is delicious.

Europe wanted us to plant trees. We planted trees and bought the carbon market. Now they’re asking for shade. — Marcelo Pinto, Brazil’s ambassador for climate finance

Why this is (almost) plausible

China already leads in solar, wind, and battery technology. If it reins in its coal ambitions abroad, it could reposition itself as a green tech hegemon. India, with its sheer scale and frugal innovation, can leapfrog western pricing models and position itself as a green development leader. And petrostates, facing the slow demise of oil, have both the money and motivation to pivot towards alternative energy—especially if the west continues to fumble its commitments.

Meanwhile, western gridlock creates a political and financial void, allowing BRICS+ to set the terms of global decarbonisation. They build alliances not with lecture notes, but with electrification plans and debt relief. Climate diplomacy becomes less about virtue signalling and more about access, affordability, and sovereignty.

The 2040 outcome: a kinder, greener multipolar world

Energy-wise, BRICS+ now controls the lion’s share of clean tech production and deployment. Europe may still be paying in euros, but the exchange rate is politely but firmly set in Beijing.

Financially, the green ruble—once mocked as a crypto-adjacent gimmick—is now the currency of choice for climate infrastructure across Africa and South-East Asia. Brussels is taking notes. Loudly.

Diplomatically, climate summits have relocated from Geneva to Mumbai, where the dosa is hot, the traffic hotter, and the deals even spicier.

Culturally, even Greta Thunberg tips her hat to the “anti-imperialist ecology” of the BRICS+ alliance—though she still refuses to shake Putin’s hand. Old habits die hard.

Plausibility score: 25% (but one can hope)

Obstacles remain, of course. National egos. Resource conflicts. The occasional diplomatic fracas involving undersea cable sabotage. But the fantasy is not so far-fetched. Perhaps the planet won’t be saved by good intentions, but by a new kind of climate realism—one that speaks many languages, trades in watts not words, and keeps its solar panels well polished.