Act I: When Saving the Planet Becomes a Red-Carpet Event
Ah yes, nothing says “urgent climate action” quite like a royal PR tour with celebrity judges, photo ops, and a hashtag campaign. Prince William, the man who once described hunting as “a spiritual connection with nature,” now wants us to know he’s really serious about saving the Earth. He even has an award for it: The Earthshot Prize—a sort of eco-Oscars where the red carpet is green, the tuxedos are recycled, and the champagne is probably “ethically sourced” from carbon-neutral grapes.
This year, the Prince of Wales will fly—presumably not economy—to Rio de Janeiro, the newest stop on the Global Climate Virtue Signaling World Tour. The event will take place at the Museum of Tomorrow, which feels symbolically perfect: a building dedicated to the future hosting an event that keeps pretending the future hasn’t already been sold off to oil conglomerates.
William calls the finalists “heroes of our time.” Which is adorable, because “our time” is now defined as that brief intermission between heatwaves.
Act II: The Climate Olympics (Gold, Silver, and Carbon-Neutral Bronze)
Let’s take a moment to admire the genius of a £1 million prize per project. That’s right—five winners, one million pounds each. The entire future of the planet, brought to you by the budget of a moderately-priced London townhouse.
And who chooses these saviors of Earth? A council that reads like a Hollywood dinner party guest list: Cate Blanchett, Queen Rania of Jordan, and of course, His Royal Highness himself, The Duke of Upcycled Press Statements. Nothing reassures us that the climate crisis is under control like the presence of a movie star and a monarch.
Still, you have to hand it to them—2,500 nominees from 72 countries! Humanity may not be good at reducing emissions, but we’re absolutely killing it at filling out nomination forms.
Act III: Meet the Planet’s Favorite Children
Let’s applaud the finalists, shall we?
1. Barbados — The tiny Caribbean island that’s somehow more serious about going fossil-free than the entire G7 combined. The irony, of course, is that while Barbados works to go green, it’s also being slowly swallowed by rising seas caused by everyone else’s negligence. But sure, give them a medal.
2. Guangzhou, China — Nominated for electrifying its public transport system. Which is great, until you remember China also burns more coal than the rest of the world combined. But hey, baby steps! If you ignore the rest of the smog, Guangzhou’s air does look slightly less apocalyptic on Tuesdays.
3. Sydney’s “Upcycled Skyscraper” — The Quay Quarter Tower, a Frankenstein’s monster of sustainability, rebuilt from an old high-rise rather than demolished. Think of it as urban composting for billionaires. Instead of tearing down and rebuilding, they just retrofitted the whole thing—a rare architectural act of self-restraint in a world where the solution to everything is “demolish and gentrify.”
4. Matter (UK) — A company that created a filter to stop microplastics from washing into the oceans. This is both brilliant and depressing—brilliant because it works, depressing because we needed someone to invent a microplastic filter for washing machines. Humanity truly is a species that litters and then gives itself awards for sweeping.
And of course, the category “Heroic Ideas That Still Won’t Fix ExxonMobil” goes to all of them.
Act IV: The Royal Rhetoric Hour
In a video message marking the announcement, Prince William—seated somewhere scenic, probably with a well-timed breeze—reflected on time, legacy, and his children’s ages (because royal speeches must include a relatable parenting anecdote). He reminded us that 2030 is a “threshold by which future generations will judge us.”
Which is true. By 2030, future generations will indeed judge us—probably while wearing respirators and Googling “How to desalinate your own tears.”
He added, “The people behind these projects are heroes of our time.” You can almost hear the stirring orchestral music swelling behind him. It’s the kind of line that belongs on a coffee mug or a tourism brochure: Beaches. Biodiversity. Belief in Billionaires.
But don’t worry—Prince William assures us that if we just “back them,” we can make the world “cleaner, safer, and full of opportunity.” Because nothing says “systemic environmental reform” like vague motivational phrases.
Act V: The Earthshot Network—Now With Extra Corporate Greenwashing
Jason Knauf, the Earthshot CEO, says William has built “an unprecedented network of organizations.” Which is one way to describe a global web of philanthropists, corporates, and leaders who collectively have the power to save the planet—but mostly prefer to host conferences about it.
It’s touching, really: billionaires funding climate prizes to reward small startups trying to undo the damage caused by… billionaires. A perfect circle of accountability avoidance.
Let’s be clear—the Earthshot Prize isn’t bad. It’s just adorably outmatched. It’s like handing out reusable straws on the Titanic. Or awarding a gold medal for “Best Bucket Usage” while the ship keeps sinking.
Act VI: Destination—Rio (Because Saving the Planet Looks Better in Sunlight)
This year’s event takes place in Rio de Janeiro. Latin America’s first hosting of Earthshot is significant—mostly because it provides a gorgeous backdrop for drone footage and influencer reels. The ceremony will unfold at the Museum of Tomorrow, which itself is an architectural ode to sustainability. It’s also conveniently located far enough from the Amazon to avoid awkward questions about deforestation rates.
And the timing? Perfect. Just before the COP Climate Conference in Belém, at the edge of the Amazon. A symbolic pre-game show before the real climate summit, where global leaders gather to give stirring speeches and then sign non-binding agreements that quietly expire within 18 months.
But let’s not be cynical! Rio promises samba, sunlight, and sustainability slogans. Picture the crowd: environmentalists in linen suits, influencers hashtagging #EarthshotVibes, and Billy Porter dazzling everyone with sequins that are hopefully biodegradable.
Act VII: The Spectacle of Hope
There’s something irresistibly theatrical about Earthshot. It’s not just a prize—it’s a pageant for the planet. The cameras flash, the speeches inspire, and for one evening, we all believe that a handful of start-ups and a royal pep talk can halt climate collapse.
It’s the feel-good illusion of impact: optimism as performance art. The same way eating a single kale salad doesn’t undo a week of cheeseburgers, Earthshot doesn’t undo decades of industrial damage. But it does make us feel virtuous for clapping.
The royal family has mastered this art—the soft power of symbolic action. It’s carbon-neutral charisma: visible, harmless, and mildly soothing.
Act VIII: The Earthshot Paradox
Here’s the uncomfortable truth: the projects Earthshot celebrates are meaningful. They represent creativity, innovation, and courage. The people behind them are genuine problem-solvers. But the very structure of the prize—the royal spectacle, the corporate sponsorship, the luxury venues—feels like it was designed for Instagram more than impact.
It’s the paradox of modern activism: the more photogenic the cause, the easier it is to ignore the structural rot.
William wants to inspire a “decade of action.” Admirable. But maybe the decade of action shouldn’t start with a black-tie gala. Maybe it should start with taxing private jets and banning luxury emissions loopholes. Or, you know, fixing the global system that allows corporations to pollute entire oceans for less than the cost of an Earthshot grant.
Act IX: “Heroes of Our Time” and Other Fairy Tales
Let’s examine that phrase—heroes of our time. It has a nice cinematic ring to it. You can almost see the trailer: [In a world drowning in plastic… five heroes rise above…]
But true heroism isn’t glamorous. It’s the researcher in a lab coat testing water samples for toxins. It’s the farmer planting mangroves instead of cash crops. It’s the activist getting arrested at a pipeline protest while the rest of us scroll past.
Those people don’t get million-pound checks or a handshake from a prince. They get burnout, legal fees, and sometimes tear gas.
Earthshot’s “heroes” are sanitized, award-show-ready versions of change agents—carefully selected to be inspiring, not inconvenient. They save the planet politely, in ways that don’t ruffle shareholders.
Act X: Green Royalty
Of course, the British monarchy has a long relationship with nature—mostly as a scenic backdrop for polo. Prince Charles talked to plants before it was trendy. Now Prince William is talking to the planet, and he’s brought a camera crew.
To his credit, William does seem earnest. He’s inherited his father’s green streak minus the compostable eccentricity. He speaks about 2030 with conviction, perhaps even fear. But it’s hard to shake the irony of an institution built on inherited privilege leading the charge for “collective responsibility.”
It’s like being lectured about minimalism by someone who owns ten palaces.
Still, the optics are immaculate. The palace PR team has mastered the art of royal relatability through sustainability. Fewer tiaras, more tree-planting. It’s the Windsor rebrand—from monarchy to mediators of moral progress.
Act XI: The Museum of Tomorrow, the Irony of Today
Hosting the event at Rio’s Museum of Tomorrow is poetic—an architectural marvel that imagines a sustainable future while sitting in a city battling deforestation, pollution, and inequality. It’s the perfect metaphor: sleek, futuristic, and quietly surrounded by crisis.
Inside, guests will sip plant-based hors d’oeuvres and applaud each eco-entrepreneur while the Amazon continues burning 2,000 miles away. Outside, the city’s poorest residents will still face flooding and heatwaves that make “2030 goals” feel like science fiction.
But inside the museum? Oh, there will be hope. Branded, broadcast, and beautifully lit.
Act XII: The Price of Hope
Let’s talk about the economics of inspiration. For every £1 million Earthshot award, the world spends $1 billion subsidizing fossil fuels every single day. Every. Single. Day.
The scale mismatch is absurd. Earthshot is a band-aid on a bullet wound, delivered with a smile and an orchestra. It’s the moral equivalent of dropping a coin into a burning forest and calling it “symbolic.”
And yet, it matters. Not because it’s enough, but because it’s something. Humans need stories, and Earthshot provides one: a narrative of redemption, innovation, and moral clarity. It’s climate change as a hero’s journey, with a royal narrator.
That story inspires real people to act. Which is both beautiful and maddening. Because inspiration shouldn’t be our most effective climate policy.
Act XIII: The Green Show Must Go On
Next year, Earthshot will likely move again—perhaps to another photogenic city ready to host the sustainability circus. There will be another batch of innovators, another royal speech, another celebrity ambassador reminding us that “together we can make a difference.”
The ceremony will be lavish but “responsible.” The emissions will be offset. The sponsors will plant trees somewhere distant enough to forget about.
And the rest of us will watch from our couches, clutching reusable water bottles, convincing ourselves that watching counts as participating.
Act XIV: If the Earth Had a PR Department
If the Earth could talk, it might say: “Thanks for the awards show, but could you maybe stop setting me on fire?”
The planet doesn’t need pageantry—it needs policy. It needs systemic shifts, not soundbites. It needs fewer billionaires with conscience complexes and more leaders willing to legislate like the future actually matters.
The irony of the Earthshot Prize is that it proves people care while simultaneously proving that caring isn’t enough.
Act XV: A Toast to the Heroes
So here’s to the heroes—Barbados, Guangzhou, Sydney’s skyscraper engineers, the team at Matter, and every underfunded genius trying to patch the ozone hole with duct tape and optimism. You are, in every sense, the antidote to apathy.
And yes, even Prince William deserves a polite clap for using his platform for something less embarrassing than, say, another royal feud documentary. His intentions are good, his speeches heartfelt. It’s not his fault that climate action now looks like a Netflix special.
Epilogue: The Earthshot Epiphany
The truth is, we need both: the dreamers and the doers, the spectacle and the substance. We need the Earthshots and the earth-grinders, the glitzy ceremonies and the grimy lab work.
But most of all, we need to stop pretending that inspiration is victory.
Because while the Prince of Wales sits beneath a tree, reflecting on time and legacy, somewhere a farmer in Bangladesh is watching his field disappear underwater. Somewhere, a child in Phoenix is growing up thinking 45 °C summers are normal. Somewhere, the real heroes are too busy fixing the mess to attend the gala.
So by all means, let’s celebrate progress. Let’s clap for innovation. But when the lights fade and the cameras pack up, maybe the most radical thing we can do for the planet—royal or not—is to stop turning it into content.