Young delegate. Second time at the UNPFII. She’d done everything right. Prepared her intervention. Coordinated with youth caucus. Delivered it well. Sat down.

Then she asked me: “Did any of that actually do anything? Or did I just talk into a room that forgot me five minutes later?”

I didn’t have a comfortable answer. Because I remember asking myself the same thing.

Your first time at the UN, you’re just trying to figure out where the rooms are. You find your caucus. You deliver your intervention. You meet people. You go home exhausted and proud. That’s how it should be. First time is about showing up.

Second time is different.

Second time, you start asking harder questions. And if you’re asking those questions, good. That means you’re paying attention.

Here are five beliefs I carried into rooms for way too long. They felt like wisdom. They worked like cages. You’re probably carrying some of them too.

You walk into the room. You testify. Land taken. Rights violated. Communities destroyed. You make it vivid. Undeniable. You sit down.

Nothing happens.

Not because they didn’t hear you. They heard you. They just didn’t move.

The room doesn’t move because you described harm. The room moves when you give it something to act on. A recommendation it can adopt. A paragraph it can include.

If your intervention ends with “this must stop” and nothing else, you described the problem. You didn’t give anyone a move.

You’ll feel this when something big comes up. A new treaty. A court process. Something where you don’t know how it plays out.

The fear makes sense. We’ve been burned. Processes that promised inclusion and delivered extraction.

So the instinct kicks in: If I can’t control it, stay out.

But that’s paralysis. Every arena worth entering has risk. The question isn’t whether there’s risk. The question is whether you’ve prepared for it.

This sounds protective. That’s why it’s dangerous.

The Declaration exists. States call it aspirational. Non-binding. They use the vagueness to avoid doing anything.

Some of us think: At least the text is intact. If we push for clarity, we might lose what we have.

But the vagueness isn’t protecting us. It’s protecting them.

States are using it right now to water down FPIC. To shrink self-determination into cultural autonomy. To lump Indigenous Peoples in with stakeholders and local communities.

The rights are eroding while we hold still.

You’ll hear this in the hallways. “PFII just makes recommendations.” “Nothing here is binding.”

All true. So what?

No single institution does everything. PFII can create a signal. A signal lets diplomats take something to capitals. Capitals start conversations. Conversations build coalitions.

If you wait for the perfect institution, you wait forever. And while you wait, people who don’t wait are moving.

This one is real.

We’ve seen what happens when a small group moves without consulting. Elite capture. Regional exclusion. Processes that claim to speak for everyone but don’t.

So the instinct becomes: slow down. Wait for full consensus.

But consensus can become a cage too.

Moving fast doesn’t have to mean captured. You can build a process that’s regional, multilingual, transparent, hard to capture.

The answer isn’t paralysis. The answer is better architecture.

Before you go.

You’re getting ready for week 2. You want this time to count. Run through this:

• I have a specific outcome I want this session. A sentence. A seat. A procedural change. Not just an issue.

• My intervention gives the room something to act on. A recommendation. A paragraph. Not just harm described.

• I know who decides what I care about. Not who speaks. Who decides.

• I’ve talked to at least one of those people before the session starts.

• I’m not avoiding something because it’s hard. I’ve looked at the risk and prepared.

If any box is unchecked, that’s the gap. Fix it before you travel.

Second time should be different. Make it different.

See you next week!

P.S: What is one recommendation you would put into the permanent forum report if you had the chance?

P.P.S: Did you know that I upload daily briefs here?

Here is what 5 days at the permanent forum covered:

• I pitched the ICJ advisory opinion on Indigenous rights from the floor. People are still asking for copies of the statement two days later.

• I showed four questions that write your UN intervention for you. Outcome, process, decision makers, what moves them.

• “All protocols observed.” Four words that save you fifteen seconds every time you speak.

• I prepared two statements for one speaking slot. Primary and secondary. I showed the Google Doc system my SG uses to sign off before I deliver.

• I turned one existing statement into a Pacific caucus intervention without rewriting it.

• Since January, UN staff and member states have asked me the same question at least ten times: What would you sacrifice to protect your mechanisms? I showed why I refuse to answer.

• I brought up UN80 as the elephant in the room during the interactive dialogue. Nobody else did. Afterwards, people who were not tracking it started asking me for briefings in the hallways.

• A UNPFII assessment document dropped on Monday. I explained why the timing makes it dangerous and how I decided in real time whether to address it publicly or handle it behind the scenes.

• I facilitated a three-hour ICJ workshop with post-it notes. Made a sequencing mistake. The barriers exercise should come before the presentation, not after. That one change makes all the difference.

• I shared the full ICJ FAQ: will it reopen the Declaration, will it divide the movement, is it too early, is the forum the right place, what if states use it against us. Ten questions, ten answers.

• The expert mechanism on the right to development is meeting across the hall. AI. Durban programme of action. Nobody from the movement is going.

• I explained why protecting the three mechanisms without protecting the mandates and the human rights pillar is setting them up to fail. You cannot protect the door if the house is gone.

• One delegation called for a convention on Indigenous rights. I explained why that opens Pandora’s box.

• Cookie cutter position papers for 476 million Indigenous Peoples do not work anymore. I showed what to do instead.

• Four questions I ask before any intervention that write the recommendation for me: what outcome, what process, who decides, what moves them.

• Why “all protocols observed” saves you 15 seconds and what to cut from your three minutes to maximize return on investment.

• The full ICJ FAQ: why now, why the forum, what if states use it again…

Read more

The five lies covered:

1. If I keep delivering interventions, states will eventually listen.

2. The UN mechanisms we have are enough.

3. We need a convention on Indigenous rights.

4. The Declaration is enough; we just need better implementation.

5. We don’t have the power to make this happen.

The strategic argument.

Current UN mechanisms (Permanent Forum, Expert Mechanism, Special Rapporteur) provide access without influence. A new convention would require renegotiating rights in an unfavorable political climate. An ICJ advisory opinion does not require ratification, builds on existing law, takes roughly three years rather than a decade, and creates a baseline every state must respond to.

The Pacific Island states proved the model works. Vanuatu led a coalition that secured a unanimous General Assembly resolution requesting an ICJ advisory opinion on climate obligations in 2023. The same pathway is available for Indigenous rights.

Chapters.

• What Diplomacy and Power Actually Mean

• Lie #1: If I Keep Delivering Interventions, States Will Listen

• Lie #2: The UN Mechanisms We Have Are Enough

• Lie #3: We Need a Convention on Indigenous Rights

• Lie #4: The Declaration Is Enough

• Lie #5: We Don’t Have the Power to Make This Happen

Referenced.

• ICJ Climate Advisory Opinion (Vanuatu-led, 2023)

• ILO Convention 169

• UN Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples (UNDRIP)

• Permanent Forum on Indigenous Issues (PFII25)

• BBNJ Treaty

• Enhanced Participation

• 2027 UNDRIP 20th Anniversary

• The 4-Question Influence Framework

The resource introduces a four-question framework for translating advocacy into outcomes:

1. What is the outcome I want?

2. What is the process that delivers that outcome?

3. Who are the decision-makers inside that process?

4. What would actually move them?

Worked through two examples in the episode: Securing a recommendation in the PFII25 outcome document, and securing an ICJ advisory opinion on Indigenous rights.

• How the ICJ workshop surfaced barriers that already contained the answers and what that taught me about sequencing.

• The workshop mistake: I asked people to write barriers after the presentation instead of before it and why that changes everything.

• Why I left the international coordinating body on enhanced participation and what that means…

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• How I got asked to co-chair the Pacific caucus without putting my hand up and turned my existing statement into a caucus intervention.

• How I brought up UN80 as the elephant in the room during the interactive dialogue and what happened afterwards.

• The question UN staff and member states have asked me ten times since January and why I give …

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• How I prepared two statements for one agenda item and classified them as primary and secondary in case I got called on twice.

• The Google Doc system I use so my secretary general can track edits in real time and sign off before I speak.

• Why the UNPFII assessment that dropped on Monday could be used as ammo in the UN80 context and how I am deciding whether to address it publicly or quietly.

• The ICJ side event at the UNDP building: What stood out and the three-word closing I gave when the ambassador could not make it.

• How I edited a solidarity statement with a Canadian Indigenous colleague down to three minutes without losing the substance.

• Why the Expert Mechanism on the Right to Development is meeting in the room next door and nobody is going.

• The five-step framework I use to write statements that I am going to share as a resource.

• How I covered the ICJ advisory opinion, a question to the panel, and a call to action in two minutes and fifteen seconds.

• The trick I used to save time in my intervention: four words that replaced two minutes of protocol.

• Why nobody at the forum is tailoring their three minutes toward the advisory opinions and what that tells yo…

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• How to stop delivering interventions that get filed and forgotten.

• How to figure out who actually decides what you care about.

• How to walk into a room with so much clarity that you know what you’re doing.

Why?

Because, I watch a lot of other Indigenous delegates just shoot from the hip. And how you behave in one UN meeting, is how you behave in all (that’s what I believe).

Not unprepared in the obvious way. They’ve done the reading. They know the agenda. They’ve written their intervention. They’ve coordinated with their caucus.

But when I ask them a simple question: What specifically are you trying to get out of this session? They can’t answer it.

They’ll talk about issues.
They’ll talk about concerns.
They’ll talk about what matters to their community.

But a specific outcome?

Something they can point to at the end and say, we got this or we didn’t?
Most people don’t have that.

And without it, everything else falls apart.

The problem with your advocacy.

Here’s what happens when you show up with issues instead of outcomes.

You deliver your intervention. It’s good. It’s passionate. It’s true.

Then it gets filed with the other 200 interventions. Someone summarizes it in a report. Maybe a sentence makes it into a recommendation. Maybe not.

Next year you come back. Same issues. Same intervention. Same hope that this time it lands differently.

I did this for years before I realized I was just running in place.

My secret (but you can do it too).

Before I engage with any process, I force myself to get specific. I ask four questions. I don’t let myself move forward until I can answer all of them.

1/ What exactly am I trying to get?

Not a theme. Not an issue. A thing. A sentence in a document. A seat on a body. A procedural change. Something concrete.

If I can’t name it in one sentence, I’m not ready.

2/ How does that thing actually get decided?

Every outcome has a pathway. Documents get drafted by someone. Decisions get made somewhere. There’s a process.

If I don’t understand the process, I’m just hoping my words find their way to the right place. Hope is not a strategy.

3/ Who makes the call?

Not who speaks. Not who has the title. Who actually decides.

Sometimes it’s the person at the table. Sometimes it’s someone in a capital sending instructions. Sometimes it’s a staffer nobody pays attention to.

If I don’t know who decides, I don’t know who to convince.

4/ Why would they say yes?

This is where most people stop thinking.

We spend all our time on why we’re right. We don’t spend enough time on why the decision-maker would move.

Those are different questions.

Being right doesn’t automatically get you a yes. The decision-maker has their own pressures. Their own constraints. Their own reasons for acting or not acting.

If I understand what moves them, I can work with it. If I don’t, I’m just making a moral argument and hoping it’s enough.

Why this matters.

When you can answer all four questions, you know what to do.

You know which meetings matter and which ones are theater. You know who to brief before the session starts. You know what language to draft and who to share it with. You know what follow-up to do when things shift mid-negotiation.

When you can’t answer all four questions, you know you have a gap. Trust me, you’d rather discover that gap at your desk than in the middle of a corridor conversation where someone asks what you actually want and you don’t have an answer.

What this doesn’t fix.

This doesn’t mean a guaranteed win.
Heck, it doesn’t mean I always win. I don’t.

Sometimes the politics shift.
Sometimes a state changes position overnight.
Sometimes someone else’s priority takes up all the oxygen and mine gets dropped.

That happens. It will keep happening.

But at least you know why. You can look back and see where it broke down. You can adjust for next time.

That’s different from showing up year after year, giving the same speech, and having no idea whether any of it matters.

The real point.

Preparation isn’t reading the agenda. That’s the baseline. Everyone does that.

Preparation is knowing what you want, how it gets decided, who decides it, and what would make them move.

If you can answer those four things, you’re ready.

If you can’t, you’re not. And no amount of passion will fix that.

Before you go.

One trap I see constantly: Confusing presence with progress.

They’re not the same thing.

You can show up to every session.
You can deliver interventions at every opportunity.
You can be visible, active, engaged.

And still move nothing.

Because movement requires a target. Without one, you’re just there.

Before you enter the UN on Monday, write down your answers to the four questions.

One sentence each.

If you can’t do it, that’s the problem you need to solve first.

Hope this helps you.

See you next week!

P.S.: If this helped you see things more clearly, share it with someone who needs the same clarity.

P.P.S.: I upload daily vlogs/briefs on my Substack. Here is what four days before the UNPFII covered:

• I received new instructions from my traditional council. The briefs in the coming weeks will sound different.

• Someone in the Indigenous movement is distributing a playbook on how to circumvent FPIC. I got confirmation.

• States face zero consequences for ignoring Indigenous rights. I explained why and what could change that.

• Most people think the Declaration is enough. I showed where it stops working.

• I flipped the burden of proof on conflation. You should not be explaining why you are different. They should.

• You think FPIC protects you. I showed where it breaks.

• I gave four questions that fix any training module on Indigenous Peoples. You can use them in any process.

• The people of African descent are moving on collective rights and ancestral lands. If you are not watching, you should be.

• I am going to the forum for one thing. A recommendation in the final report that anchors the ICJ advisory opinion.

• The meetings without the word “Indigenous” in the title are the ones that matter most. I showed which ones.

• I used a rigatoni carbonara to explain timing in diplomacy.

• My traditional council said stop working on what is nice to have. Start on what we need.

Consider becoming a team member here and receive all briefs in your email:

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I may not be able to respond immediately, but I read all the answers.

• The full case for why an ICJ advisory opinion on state obligations and Indigenous rights needs to start this year.

• Why there is no mechanism that authoritatively clarifies what the Declaration actually requires and what that means on the ground.

• The FPIC circumvention playbook a private sector contact confirmed to me an…

Read more

• How I tracked the people of African descent forum this week to check for tension between their collective rights claims and ours, especially on ancestral lands.

• How I am preparing for the UNESCO panel on Monday and the two angles I am bringing: BBNJ as a model for other environmental agreements and why the work must c…

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• How I am flipping the script on conflation so that those who want to conflate carry the burden of proof, not those who want to deconflate.

• The deconflation resource I am compiling as a living Google Doc with different arguments for different member states.

• Why you need different songs on your album for different delegations…

Read more

• How I balance instructions from my traditional council with the work I do for IITC and why one always comes first.

• How member state delegations receive instructions from capital and what Indigenous Peoples can learn from that.

• The ICJ advisory opinion project: What it is, why it matters, and the specific key result I want from the p…

Read more

Let me expand on it.

In human rights spaces, the distinction between Indigenous Peoples and local communities is usually clear. Local communities aren’t a subject under international human rights law. So the phrase doesn’t stick the same way there.

The problem is international environmental law.

The CBD keeps putting “Indigenous Peoples and local communities” into texts. And the Indigenous caucus there isn’t actively trying to fix it. I’d even argue some benefit from the conflation.

That language doesn’t stay at the CBD. It spreads.

Look at paragraph 135 of the Paris Agreement. It talks about the traditional knowledge of Indigenous Peoples and local communities. The text doesn’t actually treat us as one group. But people interpret it that way because they bring the CBD mindset with them.

Same thing at the Food and Agriculture Organization. At UNEA. And now we might have this problem at the UNCCD.

The CBD is the source. And because nobody there is cleaning it up, the rest of the environmental ecosystem keeps copying the same pattern.

Why your reasons don’t work.

You can explain why Indigenous Peoples are different from local communities. You can point to UNDRIP. You can say that local communities aren’t a subject of international human rights law. You can make the moral case. And it works….in Geneva.

But here’s the thing. Many states are allergic to bringing international human rights law into international environmental law. They don’t want those frameworks mixing. So when you show up with a human rights rationale in an environmental room, it often doesn’t move anyone.

The moral argument is correct. It’s just not enough by itself in these spaces.

So I needed something else. I’ve been test-driving a different approach. It’s working. And it’s another tool in your Batman belt. You decide when to use it.

How I use it in different settings.

In general statements, I still make the legal distinction clear. At BBNJ, I said it plainly: As a matter of principle, we oppose the conflation of Indigenous Peoples as well as local communities. Local communities are not a subject under international law. Indigenous Peoples are. The two are not the same.

That’s the formal marker. It goes on record in the plenary.

But in bilaterals and informals, when someone is really pushing for the conflated phrase, I do something different. I don’t keep explaining. I start asking questions.

Flip the burden.

Here’s what I’ve noticed about the old approach.

When we explain why Indigenous Peoples are different from local communities, we put ourselves in the hot seat. We’re providing evidence. We’re making the case. We’re doing all the work while the other side just shrugs and keeps the language they wanted.

They don’t have to defend anything. They just wait for us to finish talking, then move on.

That’s the trap. So I flipped it.

I stated the principle first: As a matter of principle, we oppose conflation of Indigenous Peoples and local communities.

Then I bilaterally asked proponents who treat the two as one group to answer some questions.

Not fancy questions. Simple ones. Questions so clear that a child could understand them. Questions that force them to explain what their own language actually means.

The questions I used.

Then I waited.

If they say one group, I ask: “Then why are there two names?”

If they say two groups, I ask: “Then why does this text treat them as one thing?”

Then I keep going:

These questions are simple on purpose.

If someone has to think about what my question means, they’ll answer their own interpretation of it. And then we’re back to arguing about interpretations instead of pinning them down.

Clarity is the whole game here.

Why this works.

The phrase “Indigenous Peoples and local communities” survives because it’s vague. That vagueness is useful. It lets institutions claim they included Indigenous Peoples without actually setting up distinct processes, distinct seats, distinct funding, distinct anything.

When you ask simple operational questions, you take away the vagueness.

Now they have to say out loud what their language actually means. And most of the time, they don’t want to. Because whatever answer they give creates problems for them.

If they say it’s one merged group, that contradicts international law.

If they say it’s two separate groups, then why not just write it that way?

The phrase works precisely because nobody has to answer these questions. Making them answer is the move.

One thing I always do.

When I talk about this issue, I never say “Indigenous Peoples and local communities” unless I’m quoting the text directly.

At the BBNJ we’re discussing a proposed IPLC advisory body and that’s what the document calls it, I’ll use that name so people know what I’m talking about. But in everything else I say, I refer to the Indigenous Advisory Mechanism by name. I make the distinction in my own speech, every time.

This matters because language shapes how people think. If I blur the line in my own words, I’m doing their work for them.

What this gives you.

This isn’t a replacement for the moral argument. It’s another tool in your Batman belt.

The moral argument says: Indigenous Peoples are not the same as local communities. Our rights are distinct. Our histories are distinct. Conflating us erases that.

That argument is true. Keep making it.

But when that argument isn’t moving the room, you now have another move. You state your principle. Then you put the burden on them to explain what their language actually means.

It’s up to you when to use which. Sometimes the moral argument lands and that’s enough. Sometimes you need to pin them down with operational questions. Sometimes you use both.

The point is you have options now.

Before you go (yes, it’s back).

The trap is thinking you need a perfect argument.

You don’t. You need a good question.

A question they can’t answer is worth more than an explanation they can ignore.

Next time someone puts Indigenous Peoples in the same phrase with local communities, don’t just give a speech. State your principle. Then ask: “So when this gets implemented, how exactly does that work? One group or two?”

Then wait.

See you next week!

P.S.: I upload daily briefs on my Substack. Here is what twelve days of negotiations across two processes covered:

• I showed three rules for tweaking negotiating text. If your edit fails any of them, do not propose it.

• I used a power adapter to explain how you keep connection points open inside treaty architecture. Sixty seconds. Worth more than a strategy document.

• A co-chair gave me two minutes. I took one. I showed how listening to the room cuts your time in half and doubles your credibility.

• The ambassador of Vanuatu said something over kava that made three of us stop talking. I unpacked why tactics expire but principles do not.

• I laid out the one red line I refuse to cross on Indigenous representation. And I showed why I pick a worse seat every time if it means we choose who sits in it.

• I explained why FPIC breaks at version six. If you work on data, genetic resources, or traditional knowledge, this changes how you think about consent.

• The BBNJ closing plenary went sideways. I shared the two texts I sent the IITC group chat in real time and then did the full post-mortem.

• I showed how I calculate mid-week whether a proposal will survive the next text. I did the math on Friday. By Sunday I was right.

• I walked into a new treaty negotiation seventy-two hours after landing. I shared the sawdust technique: when the room will not let your language survive whole, you break it into dust and sprinkle it through the text.

• I mapped six months of overlapping processes from one chair and showed how I decide which one gets my full attention and which ones I let breathe.

• I revealed a project I have been building for two years: An ICJ advisory opinion on state obligations and Indigenous rights. That is the real reason I am going to the permanent forum.

• I found out about a special procedures meeting with civil society that is not on any public calendar. Now I track it.

The full daily briefs go deeper. Become a team member.

• How I get reads on a process from other people’s observations instead of my own notes when I miss a session.

• Why negotiators who transfer from New York to Geneva say Geneva is more intense and what that means for Indigenous Peoples.

• The special procedures coordination meeting with civil society that is not published and how I…

Read more

• How I decide which process gets my A-game and which ones I monitor from the sidelines when 5 overlap.

• Why I limit myself to 3 objectives per process and what happens when you have seven.

• The project I have been quietly building for two years: An ICJ advisory opinion on state obligations and Indigenous rights.

• Why the PABS system could be u…

Read more

• How I enter a new treaty negotiation when someone else was tracking it and the portfolio shifted to me.

• The sawdust technique: When you cannot get the thing whole, sprinkle it throughout the text.

• Why FPIC with a qualifier beats no FPIC. And why some Indigenous Peoples disagree with that.

• Why a monitoring body vs a conference of parties m…

Read more

Happy Saturday,

You are not in that room to react. You are there to move text.

Most indigenous advocates never get told that.

They show up prepared, passionate, and completely wired to respond to everything. Every hostile comment feels like an attack on the people they represent. Every intervention that misnames or conflates or dismisses gets a response.

That reflex kept Indigenous movements alive for decades. I respect it fully.

Today, it can also get you killed in a negotiation room.

I learned this the hard way.

Early on, I was that person. Someone takes the floor and says something that conflicts with something I said, conflicts with everything we fought for, and I am already drafting my 500 word response before they finish the sentence. Chair, allow me to respond. Chair, we would like to clarify.

Every session. Every hostile comment. Every time.

I walked out exhausted. I burned favors on the wrong fights. And when the comment that actually mattered came, the one that could genuinely destabilize the text, I had nothing left and nobody left to call.

I was responding to volume. Not weight.

Here is what I know now.

Not every voice in a room carries the same weight. But the filter changes depending on where you are.

• In treaty negotiations like BBNJ, the filter is ratification status. Before every session I build a two-column list. Signed and not signed. Ratified and not ratified.
  
  That list stays open the entire session.
  
  When a comment comes in, I run it through the list immediately. That classification tells me everything. Two types of comments exist in that room.
  

  • Normative comments come from those that have signed or ratified. Their objection can break consensus. That is the comment you mobilize against. Fast. That is when you call your capital contacts, activate your allies, and take the floor.
    

  • Consultative comments come from everyone else. Non-parties, non-signatories. They can get something on the record. They cannot break the package. (Disclaimer: At the end of the day they can find a way)

  
  An example:
  
  BBNJ PrepCom 3, final week. Observer participation language for Indigenous Peoples is on the table. Iran intervenes. Nicaragua intervenes. The colleague next to me is nudging me: “Push back….push back….you need to say something.”

  
  I did not move.

  Neither state had signed on to the agreement. Their comments were consultative. Loud. Documented. Not important enough to spend my intervention seconds on. I noted the signal and kept on going.
  

• At the Human Rights Council, the filter has two layers.

  
  First layer, I check the traditional co-sponsor list. Those are the states that publicly attached their name to the text. If one of them starts saying something unexpected in informal consultations, that is a real signal. That is a relationship that needs attention before the tabling deadline. A co-sponsor drifting is a problem. A hostile state being hostile is not, by itself, a problem.

  
  But I do respond to hostile states at HRC. Just not automatically. Here’s layer two. Two things drive that decision:
  

  • One is whether it is the Indigenous-specific resolution or a broader one where Indigenous Peoples are one paragraph among many. In the Indigenous resolution I respond more readily because the entire text is the fight. In a broader resolution, a hostile comment on one Indigenous paragraph from an isolated state gets noted and addressed very briefly.
    

  • The second thing is traction. Is this hostile state speaking for themselves or are they pulling others with them. If delegations are nodding, or the same position starts appearing across two or three blocs, that is not an isolated comment anymore. That is an emerging problem in the text.
    

One hostile state, broad resolution, no visible traction. I note it and move on. Indigenous-specific resolution, or a hostile position gaining visible support anywhere in the room. I take the floor.

The principle running through all of this.

Before every session, know your filter.

In treaty negotiations, build your two-column list. Signed or not signed. Ratified and not ratified. At the HRC, know your co-sponsor list cold and read the room for traction.

Then when comments come in, run them through the filter first. One question before anything else: Does this voice have the weight to actually move something?

If no, note it and move on. If yes, move everything.

The room will always give you more to react to than you have capacity for. Your job is not to respond to every voice. Your job is to choose correctly.

That is what separates someone who participates from someone who shapes outcomes.

The seat is worthless without the script.

That is the difference between participating in a negotiation and navigating one.

That’s it for this week.

Catch you next Saturday!

Btw, this is what you missed this week:

• I showed three rules for tweaking any negotiating text. If your edit fails any of them, do not propose it. I have never shared these before.

• I used a phone charger to explain how you keep connection points open in treaty architecture. That sixty-second visual is worth more than any strategy document I have written.

• A co-chair gave me two minutes. I took one. I showed exactly how listening to the room cuts your speaking time in half and doubles your impact.

• The ambassador of Vanuatu said something over kava in Alphabet City that made three of us go silent. I unpacked the difference between tactics and principles and why only one of them scales.

• I laid out the one red line I will not cross on Indigenous representation. And I showed why I would choose a worse seat every single time if it means we pick who sits in it.

• I explained why FPIC breaks down at version six. If you work on anything related to data, genetic resources, or traditional knowledge, this changes how you think about consent.

• I used a toothbrush to explain why most people’s approach to diplomacy guarantees failure.

• The closing plenary went sideways. I shared the two text messages I sent to the IITC group chat in real time. And then I did the post-mortem: What we kept, what we lost, what is still open, and why the framework that got us there still works

• I showed how I calculate mid-week whether a proposal will survive the next text iteration. I did the math on Friday. By Sunday, I was right.

Join the Pro Group to get daily briefs.

• Someone that’s exhausted after 2 weeks at PrepCom 3 preceded by 4 weeks of HRC.

• What happened in the closing plenary and why the final hour went sideways.

• How I tried to prevent the floodgates from opening and why consensus is both a shield and a vulnerability.

• The full inventory: what we kept, what we lost, what is contested.

• Why I did …

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• Why Indigenous Peoples should have the option to register as stakeholders, not just as Indigenous Peoples, at any COP.

• Why FPIC has a ceiling when it comes to data, genetic resources, and sequencing.

• The toothbrush analogy for diplomacy: Consistency over intensity, every single day.

• How I protect both sides of the Indigenous movement at th…

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• Why diplomacy is like dating and why the ambassador of Vanuatu's four words stopped the table.

• The difference between a tactic and a principle and why principles are the only thing that scales.

• The one red line on self-selection: Indigenous representatives nominated by Indigenous Peoples, not by parties.

• Why I would take a lesser…

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