More companies that provide rayon, lyocell and modal to fashion brands are sourcing less from ancient and endangered forests, according to the nonprofit Canopy. Although the vast majority of cellulosic fibers are still spun from virgin materials, some of the biggest producers have been quickly adopting forest-friendly and circular materials.

Seventy percent of companies making semi-synthetic, cellulose-based fibers now exhibit green practices that reduce pressures on forests, according to the10th Hot Button report by Canopy, issued Oct. 16. Fifty four percent of fiber producers that the group tracked have reached the nonprofit’s favorable green rating, with 59 percent offering material traceability.

There has been notable progress over the past decade. Canopy has classified 21 companies as green, up from zero in 2016. And in that time, the number of apparel product lines made from next-gen, preferable sources of manmade cellulosic fibers rose to 16 from none.

Canopy uses this annual report in part to help brands make informed sourcing decisions, in line with its mission to save some of the hundreds of millions of trees felled for fashion each year. The Vancouver nonprofit works with 950 companies to protect forests and biodiversity in apparel, packaging and other industries.

A long way to go

And yet there’s a long way to go to advance circularity in rayon and other manmade cellulosic fibers (MMCFs). Although sourced from wood, plants or and waste, semisynthetics involve chemical and mechanical processing.

The use of recycled materials for such fibers is still rare, although it grew to 1.1 percent in 2024 from .7 percent a year earlier, according to the latest Materials Market Report by Textile Exchange.

Such textiles represent only 6 percent of the global fiber market, according to Textile Exchange. It found that fibers approved by Forest Stewardship Council (FSC) or other certification made up as much as 70 percent of cellulosic fiber market share.

“When we can pull these levers to build demand for those sorts of fibers, the world is better off,” said Forest Stewardship Council U.S. President Sarah Billig.

Who’s doing what

Tied for the top honors in the Hot Button report are Lenzing of Austria, responsible for nearly 13 percent of the worldwide production of manmade cellulosic fibers, and Tangshan Sanyou of China, which makes 9 percent. They are followed by Aditya Birla of India, which supplies almost 16 percent of global volumes.

Such early adopters are also working toward circularity goals, including using less wood and boosting next-generation production by 2030. For example:

  • Yibin Grace, which placed sixth in the report, in April announced it was opening China’s first dissolving pulp mill to turn old textiles into material for new fibers. 
  • Tangshan Sanyou in July started working with textile-to-textile recycler Circ on next-generation lyocell.
  • The fourth company on the list, Jilin Chemical Fiber, in May began producing Reboocel fiber made from FSC-certified bamboo and bamboo recycled from furniture.
  • Xinxiang Chemical (Bailu Group) in the spring launched pilot production for recycled viscose.

Other progress includes the rise of textile-to-textile material Circulose, which rose from startup Renewcell’s ashes in Sweden. More brands, such as Reformation, are working its pulp into their collections.

In addition, in February recycling startup Circ launched Fiber Club, a collaboration with Fashion for Good and Canopy. Birla Cellulose, Arvind Limited and Foshan Chicley have joined the effort to push circular manmade cellulosics, along with brands Bestseller, Eileen Fisher, Everlane and Zalando.

Canopy rates companies according to sourcing, conservation, innovation, traceability and other factors. The new report added chemical management to reflect participation in the Zero Discharge of Hazardous Chemicals program.

What needs work

Canopy calls on companies to scale up next-gen materials from crop and textile waste to reduce pressure on forests for virgin pulp.

That said, some smaller fiber companies that employ more advanced circularity practices are struggling. Kelheim Fibres of Germany entered bankruptcy last year. Formosa Chemicals & Fibre of Taiwan is set to fold, and American rayon maker Enka appears to be on the brink of closing.

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The opinions expressed here by Trellis expert contributors are their own, not those of Trellis.​

AI’s energy use and carbon emissions are a red-hot topic in the climate space these days. The collision between AI and climate goals will be one of the defining corporate challenges of the next decade. And Salesforce — one of tech’s most visible sustainability champions — sits squarely at the center of that tension. 

Salesforce has been outspoken about its ESG commitments for years. But as the business capitalizes on the AI revolution, its sustainability program will continue to contend with the environmental side effects of AI. The evolving strategy, highlighted recently in the Chasing Net Zero series, captures a broader question facing every company today: Can climate progress keep pace with technological disruption? 

Just three years ago, Salesforce made headlines for entering the carbon credit business, with Christiana Figueres, former UN climate chief, leading the crowd in chants of “Climate neutral now!” at the launch event. In those days, corporate climate goals were borne out of the enthusiasm that companies’ actions and investments could contribute significantly toward reaching the Paris Agreement goal to reduce global emissions by half by 2030 and reach net zero by 2050.

Today, corporate targets and reality are diverging from those goals, not converging. The cracks in the model show up in every sector, from industrials to cosmetics. But the massive impact of energy demand from AI on the tech sectors’ emissions may be the most visible stress test of Paris-aligned reduction frameworks.

Moving the goalposts

As companies reengineer their net zero commitments, a fundamental question emerges: should advocates demand that business adapt to the targets, or accept targets that adapt to the business?

At issue in the case of Salesforce is what might be called the “intensity loophole.” For years, standard-setters have grappled with how to create a framework that leaves room for fast-growing companies whose emissions keep rising in absolute terms. Small, disruptive businesses should be afforded room to grow their emissions, the logic goes, so they have the chance to improve on the status quo — and to unseat high-emitting legacy companies?

In the early days of target-setting, most companies set absolute reduction goals, because intensity targets were seen as lower ambition. But as companies miss their targets, Salesforce and many others have moved the goalposts — either by dropping net zero altogether or by reshaping their targets to fit the business.

Just look at Salesforce’s annual impact synopses. Like most sustainability reports, they offer a blend of high level principles, long range targets and numeric ESG disclosures. The narrative describes a range of activities, but offers concrete numbers on the amount of investment and expected GHG benefits of their initiatives in only a few cases.

This makes it hard to tell if today’s actions will deliver on tomorrow’s promises. Broad concepts such as “business resilience” would carry more weight if paired with concrete data showing how specific mitigation projects are expected to yield emission reductions.

Standard setters have enabled this imprecision. Businesses undertake significant changes such as mergers and product launches much faster than the standards can adapt. Growth and governance operate on different clocks.

Intensity data isn’t a climate metric

To stabilize the climate, total global emissions must decrease. Only by reducing overall emissions can Salesforce and other companies contribute meaningfully to net zero progress. And intensity metrics make it hard to tell whether this is happening.

By adopting an intensity-based approach, Salesforce is using gross profit to normalize its emissions data. Other companies that track GHG intensity use metrics such as revenues, employees, units sold or the number of SKUs. Changes in non-climate metrics can easily create noise in the data. An intensity metric based on gross profit, for example, can improve if a company raises its prices – an action that has no bearing on global greenhouse gas emissions.

The real value of intensity metrics is as a management tool to push teams to deliver more output with less carbon. They can drive efficiency and creativity, but they fall short as a measure of global climate progress.

Risks in the ‘spheres of influence’ era

As the Salesforce profile notes, the company intends to tackle its AI emissions growth by achieving efficiencies in data center contracting and by setting standards and targets for suppliers. This is part of a broader trend across large, complex multinationals. Five years ago, companies were laying out targets to reduce Scope 3 emissions. But today’s supply chains are optimized for costs, not carbon — making Scope 3 emissions a wicked problem. Now, companies are replacing hard targets with intentions to influence their suppliers.

The rise of the “influence era” is evident in Oxford’s new Spheres of Influence framework, which seeks to systematically credit companies for their sway over others. It credits the effects of companies’ products, investments and policy advocacy, which are overlooked by traditional GHG accounting frameworks. The Spheres model is not meant to replace action, but to acknowledge that companies shape climate outcomes well beyond their Scopes 1, 2 and 3.

This shift broadens the definition of corporate climate leadership, but it also tempts companies such as Salesforce to highlight influence over impact — and to narrate progress without funding it. And in the worst cases, when companies exert influence rather than investment, the emissions reductions can be pushed down the supply chain, where the costs land on the world’s most vulnerable workers, who are least able to absorb them.

An unsteady bargain

Pressure from investors, employees and advocates has made companies aware that they are expected to pick up some of the responsibility for achieving net zero by mid-century. The groundswell of target-setting suggested that companies had accepted this responsibility.

The case of Salesforce shows that the bargain with companies is an unsteady one. And the lesson for advocates is clear: Climate targets offer a false sense of security. Far from being firm commitments on the path to net zero, more and more targets seem quaint aspirations. And if they are replaced by intensity-based alternatives, it could mask the uncomfortable truth that absolute emissions are still rising — and net zero is still far away.

The post The problem with Salesforce’s new climate math appeared first on Trellis.

New research about how people engage emotionally with environmental, climate and nature-related issues show a large regional difference.

Trellis data partner GlobeScan’s research around what motivates people to act when it comes to climate change shows in Africa and the Middle East, people tend to feel hopeful and empowered, whereas in Europe and North America, reactions are often marked by fear, anxiety and a sense of helplessness. These contrasting emotional landscapes reveal that climate communication cannot take a one-size-fits-all approach. To truly resonate, messaging must be culturally attuned and reflect local emotional realities and values to inspire meaningful action. 

What this means

GlobeScan’s project, called Societal Shift, shows that emotional responses to climate issues are varied, nuanced and full of potential — if harnessed effectively. In the Global South, where feelings of hope and empowerment are more common, there’s an opportunity to build on this optimism and resilience. These emotional foundations can support locally-driven solutions and leadership that reflect community values and aspirations. In the Global North, where fear, anxiety and helplessness are more frequently expressed, communication strategies can evolve to offer a more constructive path forward. This might include amplifying stories of action and not just intent or doom and gloom, to inspire confidence and a sense of agency. This might also include channeling frustration and anger toward calls for greater justice in the climate fight. Emotional engagement is not a distraction from climate action; it plays a central role in enabling people to move from awareness to meaningful participation.

Based on a survey of more than 31,000 people conducted in July and August 2025.

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The global effort to decarbonize maritime shipping and reduce value-chain emissions stalled this week after intense lobbying from the U.S. forced negotiators to delay a decision on a net-zero plan for the industry.

Proponents of the plan had gone into a meeting of the U.N.’s International Maritime Organization (IMO) with cautious optimism. Earlier this year, nations agreed to set steadily increasing emissions-intensity limits on vessels under the IMO’s Net Zero Framework. Owners of large vessels would have been required to cut emissions by as much as 43 percent by 2035, compared to a 2008 baseline. The framework was hailed as the first time an industry would be so regulated at a global level.

The IMO meeting was expected to adopt the plan then move to implementation, but support drained away after the U.S. threatened to impose tariffs, visa restrictions and port levies on countries that backed the plan. On Friday, the nations voted to postpone a decision for a year.

‘Unprecedented effort’

“During the past three days, an unprecedented U.S.-led effort to block a global agreement has culminated in multiple spontaneous proposals, and intense pressure both on and out of the floor,” said Alison Shaw, IMO manager at Transport & Environment, a nonprofit with offices in multiple European countries. “It is a clear effort to enact climate denialism, undo years of constructive negotiation and abandon the very targets the IMO has set for itself.” 

The decision will slow efforts by companies to reduce shipping emissions, which form a significant part of Scope 3 inventories, particularly for retailers and consumer packaged goods businesses. Maritime shipping accounted for around 2.5 percent of IKEA’s value-chain emissions in 2024, for instance. The company is aiming to purchase only zero-emissions ocean transport services by 2040.

“This is a loss of momentum for the shipping industry’s efforts to decarbonize,” said a spokesperson for Maersk, which operates more than 700 container vessels on routes between 130 countries.

Currently, companies intent on tackling these emissions rely on a patchwork of initiatives including Katalist, a “book and claim” platform that allows them to support and take credit for purchases of low-carbon maritime fuels, such as ammonia and methanol. Members include Amazon, IKEA, Levi Strauss, Mondelez International and Patagonia.

That project and others continue, but spread of the new technologies will be far slower in the absence of the rules the framework would have imposed. 

“We are in a very early part of a transition, and more than 99% of maritime transport is still powered by fossil fuels,” said Jesse Fahnestock, director of decarbonization at the Global Maritime Forum, a non-profit that partners with shipping companies. “So to get alternative fuels and the vessels that can use them out there, the regulatory framework is a hugely important lever.”

Talks continue

Despite the pressure from the U.S. and others, nations agreed to delay rather than scrap the framework altogether. Fahnestock noted that because the proposal is still live, discussions about the details of implementation scheduled over the next 12 months may continue as planned.

“Our impression is that the how of the framework is going to continue,” he said. Talks will focus on which fuels qualify as lower-carbon, rules for life-cycle analysis of the fuels and how proceeds credits, which vessel owners can use to meet missed targets, will be distributed.

Still, standing in the way of an agreement is the world’s largest economy. In a joint statement issued last week, U.S. secretaries for state, energy and transportation said they were considering sanctions against officials from countries that support the IMO framework and blocking vessels registered in those countries from U.S. ports.

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JPMorgan Chase, the largest U.S. bank, has backed away from its pledge to cut the carbon footprint of its corporate offices, bank branches and data centers 40 percent by 2030.

JPMorgan said the transition away from “time- and percent-bound targets,” disclosed Oct. 15 in its 2024 Sustainability Report, will allow it to prioritize measures to reduce, avoid or replace greenhouse gas emissions by analyzing which projects have the largest potential impact relative to cost rather than making decisions based on whether an initiative will deliver specific cuts by a short-term timeframe.

“This evolution in our strategy reflects the insights we have gained over the years and enables us to adapt to a changing landscape, including increased power demand, the pace of technological advancement and the overall economics of sustainable solutions,” the company said in the report.

The original goal was set in 2021, along with pledges related to how JPMorgan makes financing decisions to support the development of low-carbon technologies. Its biggest competitors also have emissions reductions targets focused on their operations (Scope 1) and electricity consumption (Scope 2). For example, Citi aims to become net zero for those categories by 2030, and Wells Fargo is working toward a 70 percent reduction.  

As of Dec. 31, 2024, JPMorgan cut emissions related to its operations and overall electricity consumption by 14 percent compared with its 2017 baseline, so it was running behind its original 2030 goal, according to a Trellis analysis of data from its 2023 and 2024 sustainability reports. 

JPMorgan declined to comment officially on this year’s sustainability report, nor did it issue a press release about its publication.

Slow progress on renewable energy 

The new approach applies to projects JPMorgan is considering across more than 6,500 global sites, such as on-site solar projects, power purchase agreements for renewable energy, lighting and energy efficiency measures and heating and cooling retrofits.

For example, JPMorgan in 2024 installed solar panels at 64 retail branches and three commercial offices; it also paired some of those new installations with energy storage, as part of a pilot project. Its goal in 2023 was to deploy 16 megawatt-hours of energy storage in Arizona and Delaware by the end of 2025. The company’s new headquarters in New York is the city’s largest all-electric tower, powered by a hydroelectric project upstate. 

JPMorgan sourced 57,420 megawatt-hours of electricity from its on-site solar panels as of Dec. 31, 2024, up from 47,443 megawatt-hours in 2023. The bank didn’t disclose progress toward its 2030 renewable energy commitment in the latest report; in its 2023 report, the bank said it had reached 23 percent.    

JPMorgan will use the cost of renewable energy and the price for high-quality carbon credits when assessing future investments. For example, the company signed a 13-year contract in May that will purchase credits for carbon captured at pulp and paper mills along the U.S. Gulf Coast. The bank paid less than $200 per metric ton of removal, one of the lowest prices reported for a deal of this nature.  

$309 billion in green finance

JPMorgan is holding firm on its commitment to invest $1 trillion to support renewable energy, electric vehicles, climate adaptation and other initiatives in pursuit of a clean economy transition by 2030. The bank has so far deployed $309 billion toward that goal, including $68 billion in 2024. Much of that financing came in the form of green bonds or funds deployed for renewables and low-carbon energy projects.

JPMorgan deployed $1 billion in financing to climate adaptation and resilience projects in 2024, its first commitments to that category. 

Funding the low-carbon transition

The bank is also sticking to commitments to reduce the emissions intensity of its investments in energy projects and in companies representing eight key economic sectors ranging from aluminum to shipping. Wells Fargo has backed off a similar pledge. 

This activity falls into the category of “financed emissions,” and it typically represents the largest portion of any financial institution’s carbon footprint. It’s an area that members of the now-defunct Net Zero Banking Alliance had sought to address collaboratively. JPMorgan pulled out of the group in January.

Despite that defection, the bank still calculates and reports on its energy financing activities. It scrutinizes the amount of money it commits to high-carbon supply compared with its investments toward projects or technologies that support the transition to low-carbon energy. The overall ratio for 2024 was 1.13, meaning that for every $1 committed to high-carbon energy, JPMorgan put $1.13 toward low-carbon projects.

Aside from how it reviews energy financing, JPMorgan also uses 2030 intensity goals to assess investments related to auto manufacturing, aviation, shipping, iron and steel, cement and aluminum. “Our targets are designed to help us track our clients’ decarbonization progress and inform how we can best support our clients’ low-carbon transition objectives,” the bank said in its 2024 report.

For example, the carbon intensity of JPMorgan’s aviation investments has decreased about 20 percent since 2021, primarily because many of its clients in that sector have prioritized fleet modernization initiatives and other projects that have reduced their emissions.

Conversely, the carbon intensity for JPMorgan’s aluminum clients has increased 10.4 percent compared with the 2021 baseline, largely because of its support for companies in emerging markets, where production emissions tend to be higher.  

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Of the 917 bills that reached California Gov. Gavin Newsom’s desk over the past month, 794 were signed into law.

His decisions related to energy and environmental impacts reflect contrasts. For instance, he continued the state’s cap-and-trade program while green-lighting new oil drilling and rejecting virtual power plant advancement.

As for supply chains, the passage of a requirement for companies to disclose heavy metals in prenatal vitamins contrasts with rejected proposals to ban forever chemicals in cookware and plastic glitter in personal care products. 

Here are the key new laws, as well as legislation that perished by Newsom’s pen.

Signed into law

Heavy metals disclosure: In 2027, prenatal vitamin purveyors will have to detail how much lead, cadmium, mercury or arsenic appear in their supplements under Senate Bill 646, which passed without opposition. A similar metals disclosure law for baby food went into effect in January.

“Cap and invest”: Newsom refreshed California’s existing cap-and-trade program through 2045. Funds enabled by Assembly Bill 1207 and Senate Bill 840 are meant to help efforts that include high-speed rail and wildfire prevention.

Drill, baby drill? Many environmentalists decried Senate Bill 237, which eases the approval of up to 2,000 oil wells in Kern County in the south of the state, purportedly to stabilize gasoline supplies.

Carbon capture win: Senate Bill 614 creates a regulatory structure for developing underground storage and pipelines for captured carbon dioxide, ending a moratorium. It’s seen as a boost for the growing carbon capture and storage industry.

Regional power: As the federal government decimates previous support for renewable energy projects, California is expanding its role within a regional power market. Assembly Bill 825 enables the state to trade more clean energy with other Western states.

Small solar boon: Under Assembly Bill 1104, small and midsize solar developers will no longer be considered “public works” organizations, sparing them red tape around labor rules. 

Electrification plans: Assembly Bill 39 requires towns above 75,000 people to detail how they will electrify buildings and EV charging systems, especially in underserved communities. 

Breakthrough for in-state glass: In a challenged market for recycled glass, Assembly Bill 899 updates California’s Beverage Container Recycling law to let CalRecycle pay higher incentives to in-state manufacturers that use recycled glass. 

Vetoed

Forever chemicals stay: Senate Bill 682 sought to restrict harmful perfluoroalkyl and polyfluoroalkyl substances (PFAS) in pots and pans as well as dental floss and food packaging. Newsom said the bill would harm low-income shoppers. Concerns about toxic cookware became a flashpoint last year after a scare over fireproofing chemicals in black plastic spatulas.

No-go on glitter ban: Assembly Bill 823 would have expanded the 2015 Plastic Microbeads Nuisance Law to block the sale of personal care and cleaning products containing glitter, which pollute waterways. Newsom nixed it, stating that “it may incidentally result in a prohibition on biodegradable or natural alternatives.”

RIP to VPPs: Three separate bills would have advanced virtual power plants (VPPs)— which combine distributed sources of energy, such as electric car batteries and solar panels — to shore up the state’s electrical grid. Newsom said no to all of them, citing complications with existing state rules and programs.

Thirsty data centers spared: Assembly Bill 93 would have required California to check water consumption by fast-growing data centers. But Newsom said he was “reluctant to impose rigid reporting requirements about operational details on this sector without understanding the full impact on business and the consumers of their technology.”

The post California’s new laws include climate and consumer wins — and setbacks appeared first on Trellis.

The opinions expressed here by Trellis expert contributors are their own, not those of Trellis.​

The closure of the Net Zero Banking Alliance in early October wasn’t a surprise to anyone paying attention.

What started four years ago as a bold alliance of nearly 150 banks — together managing over $75 trillion in assets and pledging to align their lending with net-zero carbon emissions by 2050 — ended with an almost embarrassing dissolution as final members voted to cease operations after months of high-profile defections, political pressure and a steady erosion of commitments that had been watered down to the point of meaninglessness.

This failure demands our attention because it forces us to confront uncomfortable truths about the nature of voluntary cooperation, the power of political backlash and the gap between stated intentions and measurable outcomes. If we’re serious about addressing climate change through financial systems, we need to understand why the alliance failed — and we need to be honest about what actually works.

The illusion of voluntary commitment

Let’s begin with first principles. The alliance rested on a foundational assumption that major financial institutions, facing the physical and transition risks of climate change, would voluntarily constrain their most profitable activities in service of a collective good.

Consider the incentive structure. A bank’s fiduciary duty runs to its shareholders, not to the atmosphere. Oil and gas financing remains extraordinarily lucrative. Between 2016 and 2024, the world’s largest banks channeled $7.9 trillion to fossil fuel companies — despite the banks touting their own climate commitments. The banking alliance did nothing to change this fundamental calculus. It provided cover, not constraint.

From an impact investing perspective, this represents a category error that should have been obvious from the outset. Real capital allocation decisions — the kind that move markets and reshape industries — are driven by three forces: regulatory requirements, fiduciary obligations and demonstrable financial returns. Voluntary pledges might influence behavior at the margins, but they cannot override core economic incentives. The alliance tried to substitute moral persuasion for structural change and the result was entirely predictable.

The neuroscience of belief offers insight here. When we commit to an abstract principle such as “net zero by 2050,” our brains encode this as a virtuous intention — we receive a small dopaminergic reward for identifying with the moral position. But this reward is disconnected from the behavioral mechanisms that would actually produce the outcome. The banks experienced the psychological benefits of membership while continuing to finance fossil fuels at scale.

This isn’t hypocrisy in the traditional sense; it’s the predictable result of misaligned incentives meeting human cognitive architecture. To take a more cynical view, it may reflect less on human weakness and more on a deliberate calculation by bank decision makers concerned with the optics of commitment and participation.

The collapse: Political reality meets corporate resolve

The exodus began in December 2024 when Goldman Sachs withdrew, followed rapidly by other Wall Street giants including JPMorgan, Citi, Bank of America, Morgan Stanley and Wells Fargo. By summer, major international institutions HSBC, UBS and Barclays had also departed. The alliance’s assets under management plummeted from $75.5 trillion in November 2024 to $42.2 trillion by August.

While many alliance watchers would say the proximate cause was political, I’d argue that political pressure only accelerated failures that were already inevitable. The banks didn’t leave because they were forced to; they left because the costs of staying had begun to outweigh the benefits, and those benefits had always been largely reputational.

This reveals something crucial about the architecture of collective action on climate. When the political winds shift — and they will shift, repeatedly, across the decades required for the energy transition — voluntary commitments evaporate. This isn’t a moral failing; it’s a structural feature of systems governed by quarterly earnings reports and electoral cycles.

What actually works: Moving beyond performance

If voluntary alliances are insufficient, what will drive meaningful capital reallocation toward climate solutions? The evidence points to three mechanisms, none of which the alliance meaningfully advanced:

    • Regulatory requirements with enforcement mechanisms. The European Union’s sustainable finance regulations, however imperfect, create legal obligations that cannot be abandoned when political winds shift. They embed climate considerations into the operational fabric of financial institutions rather than relying on discretionary commitments. This isn’t ideological preference — it’s recognition that durable change requires changing the rules of the game, not asking players to voluntarily play differently.

    • Demonstrable financial returns in climate solutions. The renewable energy sector regularly delivers competitive returns with decreasing technological risk. Battery storage, green hydrogen and electric vehicles represent genuine investment opportunities. Capital flows toward these sectors not because of moral commitments but because the risk-adjusted returns increasingly justify the allocation. Impact investors and enterprises should lead with the “magnitude of the opportunity” rather than appeals to altruism, or even measurable impacts. Drop those in the appendix.

    • Transparency and accountability mechanisms that create reputational and legal consequences for material misrepresentation. This is distinct from voluntary pledges. When banks must disclose financed emissions with the same rigor they disclose credit risk, when greenwashing carries genuine legal liability, behavior changes. Not because hearts change, but because the cost-benefit analysis shifts. (The Eighth Circuit Court of Appeals paused the U.S. Securities and Exchange Commission’s litigation about its climate-risk disclosure rule last month.)

Honest assessment and action steps

The demise of the net zero banking alliance should prompt uncomfortable but necessary questions. How many other climate initiatives in the financial sector rest on similarly fragile foundations? How much of what passes for climate action is actually performance designed to forestall regulation? And most importantly: what would genuinely effective climate finance look like?

For business leaders, those committed to climate action through finance can:

    • Engage banks on specific projects by focusing on concrete, low-carbon transactions (clean power, green steel, renewable fuel) rather than abstract commitments.

      • Work with values-based banks, which you can find via the Global Alliance for Banking on Values, with more than 70 values-based banks with $265 billion in assets. There’s also Equator Principles Banks composed of 128 financial institutions using environmental/social risk frameworks for project finance and B Corp Certified Banks including Amalgamated Bank, Beneficial State Bank and Sunrise Banks.

The demise of the banking alliance is clarifying rather than demoralizing because it forces attention toward interventions that might actually work. And it reveals which institutions are genuinely committed to transition (largely smaller, mission-driven banks and credit unions) and which are mostly engaged in reputation management.

The post A reckoning with reality: Lessons from the demise of the Net Zero Banking Alliance appeared first on Trellis.

Vestiaire Collective sells secondhand luxuries far below retail, such as Chanel tweed jackets for $1,500 and Fendi handbags for $650. It just became the first apparel marketplace to offer carbon credits as well.

The Paris-based peer-to-peer reseller is translating the carbon emissions saved by customers’ secondhand purchases into credits to fund its goal of a “100 percent circular business.”

“The ambition is to create a virtuous cycle, where measurable environmental performance generates the financial resources needed to scale it further,” according to Vestiaire’s “Shaping a Circular Future” 2025 report, released Oct. 3 along with its credits program.

Carbon credits are typically associated with high-emitting sectors such as steel or shipping, but Vestiaire argues that fashion belongs in that category too.

“For me, the idea of building revenue through impact work is very critical,” said Vestiaire Collective Impact Director Hortense Pruvost.

That said, critics warn that the carbon credits program is unintentionally encouraging overconsumption and even greenwashing.

Circular fashion

The fashion industry creates between 2 and 8 percent of global carbon dioxide pollution, depending on how one measures such things.   

Vestiaire Collective is pricing its credits at almost $40 per metric ton of CO2 equivalent. It plans to offer 25,000 credits per year through Inuk, a Paris firm that verifies carbon credits. 

In Pruvost’s view, making Vestiaire’s circular model viable through credits will advance sustainability in the industry. Buying pre-owned instead of new clothing offers 42 percent lower climate and energy impacts, according to a 2023 study in the Journal of Circular Economy.

“We’re definitely very combative about fast fashion and throwaway fashion in general,” Pruvost said of its mission to offer high-end, long-lasting goods. It lists items from more than 13,000 labels including Chanel, Missoni, Versace and Zegna. Vestiaire not only bans ultrafast brands such as Shein, but also more than 60 mass-production mall brands including Abercrombie & Fitch, Gap, H&M and Zara.

Vestiaire inspects fashions in its warehouse in northern France. To fight fakes, it has engaged some luxury brands whose merchandise it resells. Credit: Vestiaire Collective

Vestiaire operates differently from other secondhand fashion sites. Virtual thrift shop Vinted, now France’s top clothing retailer, has lower overhead and less expensive goods. The Lithuanian company quadrupled its profits in 2024. Luxury San Francisco reseller The RealReal appears to be approaching a break-even point.

For Vestiaire, which has not reached profitability after 15 years, the carbon credits provide critical support. Most of its emissions come from shipping products, and the company creates no goods. However, for roughly one-third of sales, shoppers request authentication at a Vestiaire warehouse. Fending off knockoffs adds $17.56 per item. Authentication technologies eat up the equivalent of 12 percent of the company’s revenue, according to Vestiaire.

That threatens the company’s efforts to advance circularity, according to Pruvost. Artificial intelligence tools and digital product passports may offer future help, and add costs, against increasingly sophisticated counterfeiters, she added.

How the credits work

The carbon credits, available on Inuk’s website (French), are meant to attract institutional buyers that wish to support a circular economy.

Vestiaire partnered with Inuk to develop a new methodology rather than seek a global third-party certification body such as Verra or Gold Standard, according to Pruvost.

New Jersey firm AmSpec validates Inuk’s methods.

To arrive at a conservative estimate of avoided emissions for circular flows of goods, Inuk’s methodology considered a secondhand “substitution rate” of 85 percent, a measure of the pre-loved purchases that replace the need for new items. Inuk also considered a “rebound effect” that may lead a secondhand shopper to buy more clothes, in addition to the assumption that used items don’t last as long as new ones. 

“This is a very novel space,” said Alena Raymond, senior principal life cycle analysis practitioner at AmSpec. “There aren’t rules that fit every program out there, and so the approach here was to pull from existing standards and industry best practices within the space of quantifying avoided emissions.”

The avoided emissions program is specifically tailored to Vestiaire to encourage a circular economy, Raymond added. In addition, it follows multiple standards from the International Standards Organization regarding lifecycle assessments, greenhouse-gas quantification and carbon footprinting.

A close parallel to Vestiaire’s program emerged in September, when London-based Bloom ESG launched credits for emissions avoided by hardware recyclers.

Vestiaire’s credits signal the need for a circular economy to assist broader economic decarbonization, according to Sebastian Foot, founding partner of Bloom ESG. “Creating new incentives for circular models that reduce fast fashion and divert clothing from landfill should be embraced,” he said.

Credit: Vestiaire Collective

Rewards or risks?

Despite apparent good intentions, however, Vestiaire’s program risks greenwashing, according to Benja Baecks, an expert on global carbon markets with the nonprofit Carbon Market Watch in Brussels.

“These credits don’t represent genuine emission reductions; they’re simply monetizing existing consumer behavior,” she said. “It sends the wrong signal by suggesting that buying more clothes, albeit used ones, is helping fight climate change.”

Pruvost, on the other hand, sees a payoff in risking controversy. “I’m very confident in our approach, but I’m also happy to take the risk, because for me it goes beyond the voluntary carbon market,” she said. “It’s really looking at how we fund the circular transition that we all wish to see happen.”

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The opinions expressed here by Trellis expert contributors are their own, not those of Trellis.​

The closure of the Net Zero Banking Alliance in early October wasn’t a surprise to anyone paying attention.

What started four years ago as a bold alliance of nearly 150 banks — together managing over $75 trillion in assets and pledging to align their lending with net-zero carbon emissions by 2050 — ended with an almost embarrassing dissolution as final members voted to cease operations after months of high-profile defections, political pressure and a steady erosion of commitments that had been watered down to the point of meaninglessness.

This failure demands our attention because it forces us to confront uncomfortable truths about the nature of voluntary cooperation, the power of political backlash and the gap between stated intentions and measurable outcomes. If we’re serious about addressing climate change through financial systems, we need to understand why the alliance failed — and we need to be honest about what actually works.

The illusion of voluntary commitment

Let’s begin with first principles. The alliance rested on a foundational assumption that major financial institutions, facing the physical and transition risks of climate change, would voluntarily constrain their most profitable activities in service of a collective good.

Consider the incentive structure. A bank’s fiduciary duty runs to its shareholders, not to the atmosphere. Oil and gas financing remains extraordinarily lucrative. Between 2016 and 2024, the world’s largest banks channeled $7.9 trillion to fossil fuel companies — despite the banks touting their own climate commitments. The banking alliance did nothing to change this fundamental calculus. It provided cover, not constraint.

From an impact investing perspective, this represents a category error that should have been obvious from the outset. Real capital allocation decisions — the kind that move markets and reshape industries — are driven by three forces: regulatory requirements, fiduciary obligations and demonstrable financial returns. Voluntary pledges might influence behavior at the margins, but they cannot override core economic incentives. The alliance tried to substitute moral persuasion for structural change and the result was entirely predictable.

The neuroscience of belief offers insight here. When we commit to an abstract principle such as “net zero by 2050,” our brains encode this as a virtuous intention — we receive a small dopaminergic reward for identifying with the moral position. But this reward is disconnected from the behavioral mechanisms that would actually produce the outcome. The banks experienced the psychological benefits of membership while continuing to finance fossil fuels at scale.

This isn’t hypocrisy in the traditional sense; it’s the predictable result of misaligned incentives meeting human cognitive architecture. To take a more cynical view, it may reflect less on human weakness and more on a deliberate calculation by bank decision makers concerned with the optics of commitment and participation.

The collapse: Political reality meets corporate resolve

The exodus began in December 2024 when Goldman Sachs withdrew, followed rapidly by other Wall Street giants including JPMorgan, Citi, Bank of America, Morgan Stanley and Wells Fargo. By summer, major international institutions HSBC, UBS and Barclays had also departed. The alliance’s assets under management plummeted from $75.5 trillion in November 2024 to $42.2 trillion by August.

While many alliance watchers would say the proximate cause was political, I’d argue that political pressure only accelerated failures that were already inevitable. The banks didn’t leave because they were forced to; they left because the costs of staying had begun to outweigh the benefits, and those benefits had always been largely reputational.

This reveals something crucial about the architecture of collective action on climate. When the political winds shift — and they will shift, repeatedly, across the decades required for the energy transition — voluntary commitments evaporate. This isn’t a moral failing; it’s a structural feature of systems governed by quarterly earnings reports and electoral cycles.

What actually works: Moving beyond performance

If voluntary alliances are insufficient, what will drive meaningful capital reallocation toward climate solutions? The evidence points to three mechanisms, none of which the alliance meaningfully advanced:

    • Regulatory requirements with enforcement mechanisms. The European Union’s sustainable finance regulations, however imperfect, create legal obligations that cannot be abandoned when political winds shift. They embed climate considerations into the operational fabric of financial institutions rather than relying on discretionary commitments. This isn’t ideological preference — it’s recognition that durable change requires changing the rules of the game, not asking players to voluntarily play differently.

    • Demonstrable financial returns in climate solutions. The renewable energy sector regularly delivers competitive returns with decreasing technological risk. Battery storage, green hydrogen and electric vehicles represent genuine investment opportunities. Capital flows toward these sectors not because of moral commitments but because the risk-adjusted returns increasingly justify the allocation. Impact investors and enterprises should lead with the “magnitude of the opportunity” rather than appeals to altruism, or even measurable impacts. Drop those in the appendix.

    • Transparency and accountability mechanisms that create reputational and legal consequences for material misrepresentation. This is distinct from voluntary pledges. When banks must disclose financed emissions with the same rigor they disclose credit risk, when greenwashing carries genuine legal liability, behavior changes. Not because hearts change, but because the cost-benefit analysis shifts. (The Eighth Circuit Court of Appeals paused the U.S. Securities and Exchange Commission’s litigation about its climate-risk disclosure rule last month.)

Honest assessment and action steps

The demise of the net zero banking alliance should prompt uncomfortable but necessary questions. How many other climate initiatives in the financial sector rest on similarly fragile foundations? How much of what passes for climate action is actually performance designed to forestall regulation? And most importantly: what would genuinely effective climate finance look like?

For business leaders, those committed to climate action through finance can:

    • Engage banks on specific projects by focusing on concrete, low-carbon transactions (clean power, green steel, renewable fuel) rather than abstract commitments.

      • Work with values-based banks, which you can find via the Global Alliance for Banking on Values, with more than 70 values-based banks with $265 billion in assets. There’s also Equator Principles Banks composed of 128 financial institutions using environmental/social risk frameworks for project finance and B Corp Certified Banks including Amalgamated Bank, Beneficial State Bank and Sunrise Banks.

The demise of the banking alliance is clarifying rather than demoralizing because it forces attention toward interventions that might actually work. And it reveals which institutions are genuinely committed to transition (largely smaller, mission-driven banks and credit unions) and which are mostly engaged in reputation management.

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North American firms lag their counterparts around the world in the use of higher-quality Scope 3 data, a survey of more than 1,200 professionals from close to 100 countries shows.

The survey, conducted by the MIT Sustainable Supply Chain Lab, included responses from professionals working in supply chain, procurement, logistics, operations and sustainability. 

Half of all respondents in North America reported relying on the most basic kind of data on value-chain emissions — industry averages or spend-based estimates — compared to just over a third in Europe. 

Use of data sourced direct from suppliers, which is generally more accurate, also showed regional differences: 28 percent of European businesses reported using supplier data, more than 10 percentage points higher than the rate in North America.

Data sources for Scope 3 measurement

The difference stems from the factors driving sustainability in the two regions, said Sreedevi Rajagopalan, an MIT research scientist and an author of the report. 

European firms’ sustainability initiatives are more strongly shaped by regulation, particularly the EU’s Corporate Sustainability Reporting Directive, which requires standardized disclosures and greater transparency. These regulatory pressures have pushed European companies to invest in custom tools and supplier-level data collection.

In contrast, North American firms are primarily driven by investors and board priorities, which can be satisfied using spend-based estimates and industry averages.

“These methods are quicker and provide broad comparability—even though they’re less precise,” added Rajagopalan. “The trade-off is that spend-based and industry-average approaches can obscure real supplier-level improvements and sometimes even disincentivize sustainability investments. Companies using more detailed supplier data not only achieve more accurate emissions estimates but also strengthen supplier engagement and uncover new opportunities for emissions reduction.”

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