I Had This Wild Idea Over Pho (It Could Change Our Diplomacy Forever)
How one dinner conversation sparked the most radical transparency experiment in Indigenous diplomacy.
OK. I’m thinking of doing something completely unhinged for the UN Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples’ 20th anniversary in 2027.
Hear me out.
Last night over Vietnamese food with friends, I floated this idea: Instead of the usual polished process with centralized coordination and consensus strategies, what if we built the entire anniversary thing in public? Zooming the messy brainstorming sessions. Sharing draft documents while they’re still embarrassingly rough. Recording voice notes about which outcomes are too difficult and why.
Basically, turning the most important Indigenous rights milestone into a real-time masterclass in how international processes actually get built.
Here’s why this might be genius or career suicide: Every major Indigenous process I’ve seen follows the same playbook. Work in secret, reveal nothing until there’s consensus amongst all 7 regions, then drop a polished text that looks like it materialized out of thin air and doesn’t go far enough. Meanwhile, the next generation of Indigenous leaders has no clue how any of it actually works.
In this piece, you’ll discover why I’m considering this experiment, the specific framework I’d like to use to build while flying without torpedoing sensitive relationships, and why the Declaration’s anniversary might be the perfect moment to flip the script. Plus what this could mean for how the international Indigenous Peoples movement build processes in the future.
The Problem with Perfect Processes
I’ve been in the game for 20+ years. Every Indigenous process follows or attempts to follow the same playbook from World Conference to COP30 Commission: Appoint 1 or 2 representatives per region, coordinate across impossible timezones, spend months building consensus positions that everyone can live with, then move at glacial speed because you’re paralyzed before you even start.
The 1-per-region model was designed with a purpose. It was supposed to deliver three things: Inclusivity, agency, and transparency. Make sure every region has a voice. Give those voices real power in decision-making. Keep the process open so everyone understands what’s happening.
In practice, we’ve gotten really good at the inclusivity piece. Regional voices are at the table, appointments happen, representation exists. But the agency and transparency elements often get lost in the complexity of coordinating across timezones and building consensus positions that satisfy everyone.
Regional reps find themselves constrained by conflicting mandates. The real strategic discussions happen in smaller groups out of necessity. And while the final outcomes are public, the reasoning behind key decisions often stays invisible to most people who care about the results.
Think about it: We’ve accidentally created the exact bureaucracy we criticize States for running.
The UNDRIP Anniversary Changes Everything
The 20th anniversary isn’t just another milestone. It’s the perfect excuse to try something completely different.
Everyone expects anniversary processes to be celebratory and safe. Lots of “look how far we’ve come” messaging or “how far we should’ve come” type of polished retrospectives. Boring, but predictable.
But what if instead of another victory lap, we used the anniversary to show how the next 20 years of Indigenous diplomacy actually gets built?
Like I wrote in my piece on making 2027 work, we’re approaching a critical decade for Indigenous rights implementation. Here’s the God’s honest truth: The honeymoon is over, and there’s a declining appetite on Indigenous issues. The anniversary could be the launch pad for the next generation, not just a celebration of past achievements.
So, when I floated this idea during dessert, something interesting happened. I was 50% horrified and 50% excited. That gap tells you everything about why this experiment might be necessary.
Now that you understand why timing matters, here’s the framework I’m considering:
Document the Real Process. Not the sanitized version we put in reports, but the actual back-and-forth of building international consensus. Weekly Q&A sessions, consultation Zoom calls. Explainers on how language gets negotiated. Why certain compromises happen.
Move at the Speed of Opportunity. Like I said before, I’m gathering a focused group of friends that genuinely cares about global movement success. A team I trust that can move 10x faster and ensures that everyone can see the process happening. Because I believe real-time visibility creates trust without slowing down for endless consultation cycles.
Create Multiple Entry Points. Instead of limiting participation to regional representatives, let Indigenous Peoples jump in as there is and should be a place for everyone. Transparency shows them exactly where they can contribute.
The Framework That Could Change Everything
Now, this isn’t about being reckless with sensitive relationships. Some diplomatic conversations need to stay private, and I’m not planning to blow up years of careful diplomacy for a social media experiment.
But here’s what could be game-changing: I’m not afraid of States figuring out what Indigenous Peoples want. That’s not classified information. Our positions should be crystal clear to everyone, including governments.
The Strategy Kitchen. I’m thinking, weekly livestreams where we workshop towards visions, positions, etc. Anyone that wants to focu on implementation gaps? Celebrate victories? Push for stronger mechanisms? The core group will provide the platform and tools so that strategic choices can get made in real time.
Open Coalition Building. Show how partnerships develop organically when people can see what’s being built. Which organizations bring what strengths. How you divide labor based on capacity and passion. What makes some coalitions click while others struggle.
Real-Time Learning Opportunities. When opportunities emerge, document the decision-making process live. Indigenous Peoples can watch experienced Indigenous diplomats navigate complex choices and understand the reasoning behind each move.
Why This Could Create What We Actually Need
Here’s what I’ve noticed: Emerging Indigenous leaders (young, and seasoned) they’re hungry for real participation, not just consultation. They don’t want to wait years to get appointed to regional coordination roles. They want to contribute their skills right now, wherever those skills are most useful.
I believe the psychology behind radical transparency is simple: When people can see the process, they stop trying to protect themselves from it and start trying to contribute to it.
Traditional models make people protective. “Will my region be represented? Will my voice be heard? Will my concerns matter?” They’re focused on preventing loss.
Radical transparency makes people generative. “How can I help? Where do my skills fit? What needs to be built?” They’re focused on creating value.
Learning Through Doing. Every tactical decision becomes a mini-masterclass. “Here’s why we’re approaching Sweden before Norway.” “This is how you sequence General Assembly and Human Rights Council decisions.”
Building Pattern Recognition. When you show the process repeatedly, people start seeing the underlying dynamics. How certain types of resistance always emerge. Which diplomatic moves typically succeed.
If you’re still on the fence of this….
The Real Risk Isn’t What You Think
Everyone worries that transparency kills effectiveness. That showing your strategy gives opponents too much information. That moving without perfect consensus undermines legitimacy.
But here’s what I’ve learned: Many of us aren’t trying to gain anything. They’re trying to protect something. They’re trying to avoid a sense of loss of time, funding, opportunity, ego, status, reputation.
The 1-per-region model creates protection through representation. People feel safe because they have someone speaking for them. Radical transparency creates protection through visibility. People feel safe because they can see what’s actually happening.
So, in my mind….the real risk isn’t transparency. The real risk is protecting ivory towers and “we’ve always done it this way” thinking.
What if we experimented with a different kind of protection? Instead of protecting people from the process, what if we protected their ability to participate in it?
When everyone can see the decision-making, when people understand the trade-offs, when the reasoning is visible, trust builds differently. Not through exclusive access to representatives, but through inclusive access to information.
What Success Would Actually Look Like
So, fast forward to 2027. If we do this. By the end of the anniversary year, 50 Indigenous leaders could run their own international processes because they’d watched one get built from start to finish.
Not just participated in it, but seen every decision point, understood every trade-off, learned how to read political dynamics in real time. AND. They learned how to build in public.
This way, the anniversary becomes less about celebrating what happened 20 years ago and more about building capacity for the next 20 years.
I don’t just want to mark the milestone. I want to use it to multiply the movement.
What I’m Actually Considering
Here’s the experiment I might run: Starting soon, build the entire anniversary process transparently. Document every strategic choice, share every draft, explain every compromise.
But honestly? It’s just a thought right now. I’d like to hear what you think.
I’m planning to start small, practice what I preach. This week I’ll share my thoughts on the tabled version of the HRC60 resolution on human rights and Indigenous Peoples. Not the final polished analysis, but my real-time thinking about the language choices, political dynamics, what worked and what didn’t.
See how that feels. See if you actually want this kind of transparency. See if showing the scaffolding helps you understand how to build processes through words.
Some conversations will stay private. Some documents won’t get shared until timing is right. But the overall process becomes visible instead of invisible.
The question isn’t whether this will be messy. It will be. The question is whether the mess teaches people more than the polish.
Before You Go
I haven’t decided whether to actually do this yet. Like I said: Part of me thinks it’s brilliant. Part of me thinks it’s professional suicide.
But here’s what I know for sure: The way we currently build processes isn’t sustainable. Too few people have access to real knowledge. Too much expertise dies with each generation of Indigenous diplomats.
The Declaration’s anniversary might be the perfect moment to try something different. To build capacity while building processes. To teach while doing.
What do you think? Am I overthinking this, or is it time to start building the movement of the future?