Recognition in climate justice: Lessons from land-based carbon dioxide removal

Abstract

The ethical analysis of carbon dioxide removal (CDR) has developed within climate ethics, where distributive justice has assumed centre stage. As a result, CDR debates have inherited a similar focus on the allocation of burdens and benefits of deployment, leaving recognition-related issues comparatively underexplored. These issues concern how identity, culture, and social standing influence both who benefits from climate solutions and how these benefits are realised. For example, bioenergy with carbon capture and storage may displace local communities to make way for bioenergy crops. This is a pressing concern in regions such as Sub-Saharan Africa and Latin America, where institutional safeguards may be insufficient to prevent land-grabbing and where Indigenous populations often reside. This article addresses this research gap by reframing the ethics of CDR through Simon Caney's integrationist perspective, extending it beyond distribution to include procedural and recognitional justice. Recognition is developed here through Nancy Fraser's status-based model, which conceives justice as requiring institutionalised respect and equal social standing. Building on the work of Marion Hourdequin, Christopher Preston and Wylie Carr on status-based recognition and climate engineering, this article applies Fraser's account to land-based CDR techniques. It argues that existing approaches risk overlooking the values, worldviews and knowledge systems of affected individuals and communities, and contends that recognition justice is indispensable to assessing the ethical acceptability of CDR deployment. Ultimately, land-based CDR serves as a concrete case for advancing a broader argument about recognition in climate ethics.

Introduction

Achieving stringent climate goals requires rapid and deep decarbonisation of economies, complemented by carbon dioxide removal (CDR) (IPCC, 2022). CDR techniques vary significantly, and many remain in early stages of development, although they feature prominently in integrated assessment models (IAMs) that inform long-term mitigation strategies (IPCC, 2022). ¹ Prominent examples of CDR techniques are afforestation and reforestation (A/R), bioenergy with carbon capture and storage (BECCS) and direct air carbon capture and storage (DACCS). Each technique has unique potential and co-benefits, as well as costs and side effects, with land-based techniques such as A/R and BECCS requiring direct intervention in ecosystems. Ultimately, decisions about why, when and how CDR is deployed carry profound implications for justice, as multiple ‘paths to injustice’ can emerge throughout its implementation (Nawaz et al., 2024).

This article argues that deploying CDR techniques as part of mitigation efforts may result in injustices rooted in misrecognition that have not been adequately diagnosed. Drawing on Nancy Fraser's status-based model of recognition, the article conceptualises recognition justice as ‘participatory parity’, according to which justice requires that individuals and groups are constituted as full and equal participants in social and political life (1999, 2000). Framing recognition in this way allows the analysis to address critical normative and political questions raised by CDR deployment, including whose land and resources are employed, and which political processes ought to govern their allocation. ²

To date, however, the ethical discussion surrounding CDR has mirrored the predominant distributive justice focus in climate ethics, which examines fair processes for allocating burdens and benefits of mitigation (on CDR ethics see Lenzi, 2021; Shue, 2017). While distributive concerns are essential, they remain insufficient to capture the full range of injustices generated by the deployment of CDR techniques. CDR can produce both co-benefits and negative impacts across critical dimensions, including biodiversity, energy demand, and food and water availability (Prütz et al., 2024). The nature and extent of these effects depend on several factors, such as the scale of deployment, location, the specific technique deployed and how activities are governed. For instance, implementing large-scale BECCS raises significant concerns about the displacement of local communities, particularly in regions such as Sub-Saharan Africa and Latin America, where weak institutional protections might fail to prevent land grabbing. Additionally, the conversion of agricultural land for bioenergy crops could diminish food supplies, exacerbating food insecurity in already vulnerable regions (Humpenöder et al., 2018). Many of these regions also present high concentrations of Indigenous Peoples, whose land may be appropriated for CDR projects. Compounding these concerns, much biomass and land-based CDR modelling disproportionately focuses on economically developing countries in tropical latitudes due to the efficiency of plant growth in these climates (Jaschke and Biermann, 2022). This is evident in A/R projects, which, similarly to BECCS, risk displacing vulnerable communities while also posing potential threats to biodiversity (Seddon et al., 2021).

In highlighting the importance of retaining a recognition focus in CDR ethics, this article expands previous discussions about recognition justice and climate engineering, specifically the work of Marion Hourdequin (2018), Christopher Preston and Wylie Carr (2018), extending their insights on solar radiation management (SRM) to CDR. As it will be shown, the concerns raised by these scholars are not only pertinent in the case of CDR, but they become even more pressing as land-based techniques require scarce resources—land, water, energy—that are sourced locally.

Section One situates CDR discussions within climate ethics and shows how the debate has been dominated by distributive justice concerns, particularly burden-sharing principles. It argues, following Simon Caney, that these must be contextualised within an integrationist framework. Importantly, the latter must embed distributive concerns alongside procedural and recognitional justice dimensions. Section Two illustrates the status-based approach developed by Nancy Fraser as a relevant approach to climate justice, expanding earlier discussion concerning recognition in climate engineering. Section Three applies this framework to land-based CDR techniques, demonstrating how projects such as A/R and BECCS risk producing forms of misrecognition by failing to take into consideration and marginalising the worldviews of local communities, including Indigenous worldviews, and their perspectives on non-human nature. Finally, Section Four examines misrecognition across national borders to investigate global governance of CDR.

Burden-sharing justice in climate ethics and CDR discussions

Discussions of the ethical implications of CDR are embedded within the broader field of climate ethics, particularly the emerging subfield of climate engineering ethics. This area of inquiry has grown rapidly in response to the rising interest in large-scale technological interventions to address climate change (for earlier work see Gardiner, 2010; Preston, 2013). While earlier discussions in climate engineering focused predominantly on SRM, CDR has since come to occupy a central place in these debates, raising distinct ethical questions about justice, responsibility, and the moral limits of intentional climate intervention within mitigation scenarios. Importantly, situating CDR ethical debates within the background of climate ethics is essential for understanding the normative scope and limitations of present discussions.

A major branch of climate ethics has focused on questions of burden-sharing justice, regarding the allocation of responsibilities for mitigation and adaptation (Bourban, 2023a). In particular, the call to reduce emissions to mitigate climate change raises important questions about the just distribution of burdens and benefits among various actors. ³ Climate mitigation entails significant economic costs, losses, and exposure to risk. This opens a fundamental question of climate justice: who should bear the burdens of mitigation? Moreover, since these responsibilities are distributed across space and time, they implicate fundamental issues of both global and intergenerational justice. ⁴

In response, philosophers have advanced three main distributive principles for the just allocation of mitigation efforts and expenses: the polluter-pays principle (PPP), the ability-to-pay principle (APP), and the beneficiary-pays principle (BPP). The PPP affirms that burdens should be borne in proportion to how much an agent has emitted (for an overview see Shue, 2016). The APP asserts that burdens of mitigation and adaptation should be distributed according to agents’ financial and technological capacities, irrespective of their contributions to climate change (Moellendorf, 2014). Finally, the BPP argues that agents should pay because and to the extent that they have accumulated economic benefits from activities that led to greenhouse gas emissions (Page, 2012).

In CDR ethics, we can identify an application of these principles for the distribution of the substantial financial, infrastructural, and technological investment arising in deployment. In particular, Darrel Moellendorf (2022) applies the APP, arguing that wealthier nations should bear greater financial responsibility for the deployment of CDR techniques, whereas Henry Shue (2022) invokes the PPP to assert that those historically responsible for emissions should be held accountable for their removal. ⁵

At a general level, burden-sharing principles converge on the view that affluent countries with a past of substantial greenhouse gas emissions should shoulder the largest share of mitigation burdens and take the lead in global climate action (Bourban, 2023b; Gardiner, 2004; Shue, 2015). The world's richest and most climate-resilient countries have the potential to prevent or at least slow down the depletion of the carbon budget, and they must carry out the task of mitigation without imposing additional harm on poorer nations. Similarly, though they appeal to different principles, both Moellendorf and Shue spell out the responsibility of not encumbering the (present) poorest and most vulnerable with the burdens of CDR deployment or exposing them to significant risk.

However, when applied in detail, distributive principles begin to diverge, offering competing answers to how burdens should be allocated. ⁶ This raises not only substantive disagreement but also a deeper methodological issue: should we evaluate principles in isolation, or within a broader framework of justice? Simon Caney (2018) frames this as a fundamental methodological choice, distinguishing between isolationist and integrationist approaches. Isolationist approaches treat injustices caused by climate change separately from broader sets of injustices (poverty, development, migration, and so on) and the principles that address them. They thus bracket broader considerations, focusing on climate change as a distinct issue. Integrationist approaches, by contrast, embed arguments for principles and practices in climate mitigation in broader debates. For integrationists, climate harms are not isolated. Rather, they affect and are shaped by existing patterns of disadvantage and vulnerability. ⁷ Accordingly, the ethical issues posed by climate change are examined in view of a general theory of justice and in conjunction with other issues, including poverty, development, migration, and so on.

Caney (2018) himself defends an integrationist approach. He contends that while it is important to hold agents accountable for their actions, it is crucial to ensure they have access to a fair share of resources and opportunities. On this view, determining a fair share of mitigation duties requires drawing on a broader theory of justice that encompasses civil liberties, economic rights, and so forth (682). In other words, when individuals deliberate about the fair share of the costs of climate action, they draw on wider moral values, for instance, the belief that everyone deserves a decent standard of living or that individuals should be held accountable for their choices (Caney, 2005: 763–765). This claim is reinforced by the fact that climate change is interconnected with an array of other phenomena, such as economic growth, poverty reduction, migration, health, trade, natural resource ownership, and cultural rights. Moreover, the policies proposed to tackle climate change affect a wide range of other phenomena such as land use, food and water access, health, poverty alleviation, biodiversity loss and so on. To treat climate change as an isolated issue, abstracted from these wider contexts, Caney argues, is therefore artificial and misleading (682–684).

Shue and Moellendorf both adopt an integrationist perspective that situates CDR within broader sustainable development concerns and grounds their analyses in accounts of well-being and basic requirements of justice. For Shue, situating CDR within sustainable development entails a radical break from the current energy regime and rejecting certain roles for CDR that enable business-as-usual consumption and production (2022: 97–98). Conversely, for Moellendorf, CDR plays a vital role in allowing poorer countries to eradicate poverty, decoupling growth from environmental degradation. He contends that policies promoting CDR are pro-poor since achieving warming limits is unlikely by means of traditional mitigation alone (2022: 138). Ultimately, while linking the implementation of CDR techniques to wider questions of justice, they envision different roles for CDR in mitigation pathways.

However, although integrationist approaches, such as those advanced by Shue and Moellendorf, are more comprehensive than isolationist models, they remain conceptually tied to distributive justice. The underlying assumption is that justice is ultimately concerned with how burdens and benefits are allocated—even when variables such as vulnerability or basic rights are taken into account. In this way, integrationist accounts broaden the scope of climate ethics but still risk overlooking other forms of injustice. Specifically, they leave unexamined the structural and institutional conditions under which CDR is conceived, designed, and implemented, conditions that may entrench inequalities regardless of how burdens are shared. Crucially, they do not ask how and why the interests of certain groups are excluded in the first place.

For this reason, I argue that if responsibility for climate change is to be situated within a broader framework of justice, then procedural and recognitional dimensions of justice must be treated alongside, not subordinate to, distributive concerns. The inclusion of plural dimensions of justice does not entail abandoning the distributive perspective. Rather, it means acknowledging that climate justice demands an approach that encompasses all three distinct and irreducible dimensions, as none of these can be fully reduced to or substituted by the others. Too often, however, the move beyond distribution halts at procedure. Absent a recognition lens, procedural approaches risk entrenching the very exclusions they aim to correct. Catriona McKinnon's (2022) emphasis on procedural justice in CDR is therefore a crucial step forward. By focusing on fair and inclusive decision-making, she exposes the material consequences of CDR for essential resources and the livelihoods of marginalised groups. For example, large bioenergy crops in BECCS projects may exacerbate food and water insecurity, land dispossession, and exploitation, particularly in the Global South (147–148). Recognition, however, extends this line of inquiry further. It presses us to ask not only whether decision-making is inclusive, but also to investigate how existing institutional and cultural norms define the terms of participation and systematically devalue certain voices. Importantly, recognition is essential to ensure that individuals, irrespective of their social group, can participate in political processes and enjoy a fair distribution of the benefits and harms of climate policies. On this view, recognition complements procedural justice by ensuring that inclusion does not merely reproduce existing hierarchies but instead establishes genuine participatory parity.

At this point, it is worth considering a potential objection to the inclusion of recognition in climate justice frameworks. One might argue that distributive approaches may already capture many of the concerns that recognition aims to address. If this were the case, the additional focus on recognition would be redundant, calling into question the value of broadening the integrationist perspective. I contend, however, that although distributive principles can redress the material impacts of misrecognition, recognition is about status, respect, and political standing, which are not reducible to material distribution. For example, if an Indigenous community loses access to natural resources and their immediate environment due to a climate intervention, a distributive framework could assign compensation or redistribute benefits to redress the harm. However, even if members of the community are compensated, having their way of life delegitimized, including losing access to their natural environment—for subsistence, as well as recreational, artistic and spiritual experiences—constitutes a misrecognition that a purely distributive approach cannot fully capture. Recognition justice, therefore, becomes crucial, not only in ensuring that burdens are shared fairly, but that the identities, knowledges, and lived experiences of individuals and communities are acknowledged and respected.

Fraser's status-based recognition

Among different accounts of recognition justice, I focus on Nancy Fraser's (1999, 2000) social-status model, which will be argued to be particularly relevant for climate justice. Other theories of recognition, such as the self-realization model developed by Charles Taylor and Axel Honneth, will not be considered in this analysis (see Fraser & Honneth, 2003). In this way, the paper is consistent with the work of Hourdequin (2018), as well as Preston and Carr (2018), who focus on social status in climate engineering, which will be discussed in the following. Fraser's theory addresses the distribution-recognition problem by emphasizing the distinction between economic and cultural dimensions of justice, as neither alone is sufficient to address social inequalities. The two are analytically distinct dimensions: recognition concerns the effects of institutionalised meanings and norms on the standing of social actors, while distribution involves the allocation of resources to social actors (Fraser, 2000: 16). Fraser critiques attempts to reduce one dimension to the other and instead proposes a bivalent approach to justice that addresses both dimensions simultaneously (Fraser, 1999: 5). Central to her framework is the status-based model of recognition, which reframes recognition as the need to establish individuals as full and equal participants in social life, rather than focusing solely on group-specific identities. Misrecognition is defined as an institutionalized relation of subordination that denies individuals the status of full partners in social interaction (Fraser, 2000: 11). Hence, social status refers not to subjective feelings of self-worth or identity affirmation but to the objective recognition of each individual as an equal participant in society, including social, economic, and political life—what Fraser terms ‘participatory parity’. Independent of the social group to which one belongs, an individual should have the same access to take part in society. ⁸

As previously noted, Fraser's model seems particularly relevant for climate engineering. Hourdequin (2018) and Preston and Carr (2018) have focused on social status in their analysis of SRM. As the next section will demonstrate, the concerns raised by these scholars are not only relevant to CDR but become even more pressing as land-based CDR is place-based and depends on locally sourced scarce resources such as land, water and energy. Hourdequin (2018) highlights that discussions on SRM governance are often dominated by experts from wealthy countries, reinforcing epistemic injustices where knowledge and decision-making power are concentrated in privileged groups while excluding those most vulnerable. She argues that justice in climate engineering requires a multidimensional justice approach able to retain a focus on participation and recognition to ensure that climate policies are democratic, inclusive, and respect the identities, knowledge, and experiences of all affected individuals and communities.

Similarly, Preston and Carr (2018) point out the inadequacy of distributive justice in SRM discussions. They argue that focusing on distribution alone overlooks deeper systemic injustices, such as who has the power to make decisions and whose voices are silenced. In their case study, one of the primary concerns voiced by people in the Global South is being dominated by powerful countries in the Global North that have access to and control over SRM. Moreover, they highlight how reliance on quantifiable metrics tends to privilege certain disciplinary perspectives, often sidelining the kinds of moral, relational, and affective insights that arise from lived experience (312). To overcome blind spots in policymaking, Preston and Carr propose a care ethics framework that can examine how climate policies affect social and ecological relationships, identify whether a policy empowers or exploits affected populations, recognise Indigenous narratives, values, and environmental heritage, and move beyond scientific models to listen and integrate the lived experiences of those affected (311–314).

Taken together, these analyses underscore the centrality of recognition in climate engineering debates. Building on this, the next section turns to land-based CDR, where a continued reliance on distributive frameworks risks obscuring fundamental recognition-based injustices. Land-based CDR serves as a concrete case to advance a broader argument about the importance of recognition within climate justice, and to show how recognition-based concerns can enrich climate ethics by revealing harms that distributive approaches alone tend to overlook.

Why recognition justice matters in land-based CDR

A/R and BECCS are currently the most prominent land-based CDR techniques in the discourse and mitigation pathways. While ethical debates have largely centred on BECCS, given its prominence in IAMs, ‘nature-based’ solutions such as A/R have received less attention. ⁹ This can be attributed in part to their lower visibility in earlier IPCC reports. However, the latest IPCC Sixth Assessment Report (2022) places new emphasis on their role, even projecting that the total CO₂ removal potential of ‘nature-based’ approaches may rival that of BECCS.

A/R and BECCS differ in technological character and implementation. BECCS combines energy generation from carbon-neutral biomass with the capture and geological storage of the resulting CO₂ emissions. A/R removes atmospheric CO₂ by expanding forest area, increasing forest density, or enhancing the carbon content of forest soils. Specifically, afforestation involves the conversion to forest of land that historically has not contained forests, while reforestation occurs on land that has previously contained forests. Despite these important differences, both techniques are land-intensive and raise important concerns about the social and ecological impacts of land-use change.

In afforestation, tree planting can involve both native and non-native species. When carbon sequestration is narrowly prioritised, it can lead to strategies such as planting fast-growing invasive exotic monocultures, which contribute to biodiversity loss. This approach contrasts sharply with restoration efforts that promote diverse native species and prioritize long-term biodiversity conservation (Lewis et al., 2019). Ultimately, A/R might come at the expense of existing carbon-rich and biodiverse ecosystems and might endanger local land and resource rights (Seddon et al., 2021). These interventions can also displace agricultural land and have negative effects on food prices (Kreidenweis et al., 2016; Zhao et al., 2024). Similar concerns arise with BECCS, which often relies on monocrop feedstocks. Large-scale deployment is widely associated with two primary risks, namely deforestation and reduced food availability (Humpenöder et al., 2018). Moreover, when replacing primary forests, biomass plantations can significantly reduce biodiversity and thus increase emissions (Harper et al., 2018).

These concerns about land, food, water, and biodiversity highlight the immediate material impacts of A/R and BECCS. Yet an exclusive focus on redistribution risks overlooking important justice issues. To see this more clearly, we can turn to the example of Reducing Emissions from Deforestation and Forest Degradation, plus the sustainable management of forests, and the conservation and enhancement of forest carbon stocks (REDD+) project. ¹⁰ REDD+ illustrates how cultural and political marginalisation becomes embedded in land-based climate projects. It serves as a clear example of misrecognition in forest conservation and restoration projects, where an emphasis on carbon accounting marginalizes other values and traditional environmental practices, failing to fully recognise the diverse ways communities interact with and depend on forest ecosystems. ¹¹ REDD+ projects primarily target smallholders, local communities, and Indigenous Peoples (Skutsch and Turnhout, 2020). It has been shown that these initiatives often restrict locals’ access to land and resources, undermining their livelihoods and self-determination (Müller, 2020), while failing to address the primary drivers of deforestation, such as the exploitation by large-scale industries. It has been shown that several REDD+ initiatives undermine territorial self-determination and have also failed to compensate Indigenous Peoples equitably for lost access to forest resources, contributing to their economic disenfranchisement (Hein et al., 2020). Moreover, this is particularly problematic because, as minority groups, Indigenous peoples face threats to their survival and ways of life not only from majority-driven decision-making in democratic systems, but also from the external exploitation of their resource-rich territories (for a broader reflection on Indigenous autonomy, see Binder and Binder, 2016). The burdens of implementation thus disproportionately fall on marginalized communities, specifically Indigenous Peoples, with Indigenous women facing unique and compounded challenges (Osborne et al., 2024). Specifically, despite their critical roles in environmental protection and agriculture, Indigenous women are often excluded from meaningful leadership in climate governance (Löw, 2020). When excluded from decision-making processes, Indigenous women are positioned as less significant or marginal stakeholders, which undermines their ability to participate on equal footing with others.

Similar concerns arise in the context of CDR deployment, with evidence of significant opposition to afforestation and BECCS projects from Indigenous leaders, particularly Indigenous women, who raise concerns about the potential disruption to traditional household and community livelihoods (McElwee, 2023: 14–15). Overall, land-based CDR techniques are likely to reproduce some of the justice-related shortcomings observed in REDD+ if they are built on comparable structural logics, financial incentives, and governance models that prioritize carbon accounting and efficiency. Market-based mechanisms, such as carbon offsets and performance-based payments, intended to incentivize deployment, reward cost-effective carbon outcomes and end up reinforcing centralized, top-down governance that privilege technocratic expertise over community participation. Exclusion from decision-making not only marginalises local communities but also reinforces patterns of misdistribution by concentrating benefits, such as financial incentives and land control, in the hands of governments or corporations (McKinnon, 2022).

Misrecognition here is closely linked to dominant conceptions of land and resource use that disregard other cultural meanings. The conception of natural resources commonly assumed in neoclassical economics, where resources are treated as objectively existing and economically valuable physical entities, fails to consider the cultural and interpretive variability in how communities define, use, and relate to their environments. Such an approach overlooks the role of human intention and situated practices in constituting what is considered a ‘resource’ (Kolers, 2012). ¹² For instance, while a forest may be treated as a carbon sink within an economic framework, according to several Indigenous worldviews, it is understood instead as ancestral land, a spiritual entity, or kin (on diverse ways of relating to nature see Lenzi et al., 2023a). In such contexts, the forest is not approached to extract value, but to sustain a relationship grounded in kinship and stewardship.

This narrow economic and instrumental framing becomes institutionalized across multiple sites of climate policy and governance. It is embedded in the models and frameworks that guide CDR deployment. IAMs, for instance, typically rely on indicators such as land suitability and cost to project where BECCS or afforestation are most likely to occur (Cronin et al., 2020), leading to the assumption that BECCS is most feasible in the global South because of high biomass yields and relatively low carbon stocks (Hanssen et al., 2020). CDR projects grounded in market-based logics are not only incompatible with worldviews that emphasise cultural and relational understandings of land, but risk producing injustices if implemented without regard for these perspectives. ¹³

What is not grasped by burden-sharing frameworks is that a focus on allocating burdens and benefits assumes, from the outset, a particular set of premises and metaphysical commitments. By framing the problem in the terms of where it is most efficient to plant bioenergy crops or which species are more carbon effective, the space for local communities to decide for themselves—including the option to reject or reframe the intervention—is foreclosed. What remains is a forced choice, leaving no room for alternative understandings of nature in which the latter is not conceived as providing resources to be consumed or optimised.^14,15

Dismantling institutionalised patterns of misrecognition across national and global contexts:

For Fraser, recognition justice entails dismantling institutionalised patterns of misrecognition that impede ‘participatory parity’. The appropriate remedy depends on what misrecognised people need to be able to participate as peers in social life (Fraser, 2000: 46–47). To address misrecognition in the governance of CDR technologies, the status model must also engage with the global dynamics structuring CDR governance. ¹⁶ So far, I have analysed how misrecognition emerges in local and national contexts, particularly through dominant economic and technocratic framings of land and resources that marginalize alternative perspectives and worldviews. Yet the structural dynamics underpinning these injustices do not stop at national borders. As CDR strategies scale up, the same patterns of marginalization and technocratic control are observable at the global level. International dynamics increasingly shape national agendas, reinforcing exclusion and limiting the space for context-sensitive climate solutions. While the global target for CDR may be achievable in the aggregate, there is no assurance that every country has the natural bio-geophysical resources to fulfil its quotas independently (Pozo et al., 2020). Moreover, public preferences concerning CDR techniques, including support of A/R over more engineered solutions such as DACCS, may not align with domestic CDR potential (Cox et al., 2025). Achieving the long-term goals of the Paris Agreement while avoiding drastic demand-side measures and lifestyle changes will likely require an international supply chain involving coordinated efforts across multiple countries and deeper international cooperation. These developments raise complex questions of global justice, particularly against the backdrop of colonial legacies that have historically structured the unequal distribution of environmental harms between the Global North and Global South (McKinnon, 2022).

Recent research based on interviews with climate engineering experts has shown that current research and investment networks are led by actors from the Global North, particularly North America and Europe (Sovacool et al., 2024). These nations, historically reliant on fossil-fuel-based energy systems, continue to lead global initiatives in climate engineering. Similarly, recent participation in global consultations, such as those coordinated by the European Union and United Nations in 2023, was skewed toward these regions, reflecting existing leadership patterns in climate governance (Losi et al., 2025). Knowledge and awareness of CDR remain limited in many countries, with the literature showing a significant lack of evidence from the Global South and a general deficiency of context-specific and site-specific data, especially concerning novel CDR techniques (Smith et al., 2023). Previous discussions on procedural justice in the deployment have highlighted significant gaps in inclusivity and representation (Heyward, 2019; McKinnon, 2019). A major procedural challenge is the expert-analytic character of climate engineering debates and the limited stakeholders’ engagement (Pamplany et al., 2020). This divide reflects broader issues of intellectual colonialism, as highlighted by Kyle Whyte (2018), wherein the knowledge systems and decision-making frameworks of the Global North dominate and marginalise the contributions and perspectives of the Global South, entrenching global inequities.

Analogously, Hourdequin (2018) argues that top-down climate solutions impose Western technocratic priorities, excluding alternative worldviews. SRM research raises questions of epistemic power and how asymmetries in knowledge and expertise can generate and exacerbate status inequality that, in turn, undermines recognition and participatory parity.

Similar patterns are now observable in CDR, where Indigenous and minority communities call for inclusive policies and meaningful public engagement before deployment (Sovacool et al., 2024). Moreover, expert-analytic methods such as cost-benefit analysis and risk assessment are technical, quantitative, and typically led by economists, engineers, or scientists (Bellamy et al., 2012). While they aim to provide objective data-driven evaluations, they often exclude public input and focus narrowly on what can be measured. Ultimately, imposing solutions without engaging affected communities violates democratic principles and risks reinforcing historical injustices.

These global dynamics reveal the limits of distributive justice in the CDR context. A narrow focus on the allocation of burdens and benefits fails to account for more fundamental questions about who defines the risks and benefits of BECCS, A/R and other CDR techniques, whether local or Indigenous values and epistemologies are integrated or sidelined, and whether global CDR efforts serve to reinforce existing hierarchies rather than dismantle them. Without a focus on recognition, CDR deployment risks repeating patterns of exclusion and reinforcing structural injustices.

Conclusion

Large-scale CDR projects demand substantial financial, infrastructural, and technological investment, raising questions about how mitigation responsibilities are allocated. This paper argued that the ethical permissibility of CDR deployment cannot be evaluated on the basis of distributive justice principles alone. While distributive accounts have been central to climate ethics, they risk overlooking important injustices. In CDR ethics, even integrationist approaches such as the ones proposed by Shue and Moellendorf, which situate CDR within broader concerns of sustainable development and well-being, remain conceptually anchored in distributive reasoning. As a result, they often leave unexamined the cultural and structural conditions that determine whose voices are heard, whose values are prioritised, and whose knowledge is legitimised in CDR decision-making.

To move beyond this limitation, I have argued for incorporating recognition alongside distribution and procedural justice. As shown, misrecognition is evident at both national and international levels: in local contexts, where culturally grounded understandings of land and environment are dismissed in favour of technocratic efficiency, and in global contexts, where research networks, governance frameworks, and epistemic authority remain concentrated in the Global North. These dynamics reproduce inequalities of status and participatory parity, denying affected individuals and communities the standing to shape the terms of CDR deployment. Looking ahead, approaches such as Preston and Carr's (2018) care-based framework offer a way to integrate recognition concerns into climate policy and governance. It broadens the normative horizon of climate justice by foregrounding relational responsibilities and practices of care, moving beyond narrow technocratic framings. Importantly, it moves beyond distributive justice, addressing systemic inequalities and power structures.