The global plastics treaty negotiations are entering their final stretch. Diplomats are talking about “structure,” “balance,” and “predictability.” The Chair of the Intergovernmental Negotiating Committee (INC) has laid out timelines, methodologies, and guiding principles to move the process forward. On paper, it all sounds reasonable, orderly, cooperative, and inclusive.

But beneath the diplomatic language, a glaring problem remains: the communities most harmed by plastic pollution are still being treated as an afterthought.

In his third letter to negotiators, INC Chair Julio Cordano emphasizes the need for a “balanced approach” and a “comprehensive view of the instrument.” He outlines a framework, what he calls the “four Cs,” to help finalize a legally binding agreement on plastic pollution. The process will move through a series of meetings in April, May, and June, culminating in an in-person session in Nairobi this summer.

It is a roadmap for finishing the treaty.

What it is not is a roadmap for justice.

The letter repeatedly invokes the language of inclusivity, “leaving no one behind,” “transparency,” and “predictability.” Yet nowhere does it explicitly recognize Indigenous Peoples, frontline communities, or the workers and neighborhoods living at the frontlines of the plastics economy. There is no direct acknowledgment of Indigenous rights. No reference to environmental justice. No commitment to address the disproportionate harms experienced by communities living near petrochemical plants, incinerators, and waste dumps.

This omission is not accidental. It reflects a long-standing pattern in global environmental negotiations: prioritize consensus among governments and industry while sidelining those who bear the consequences.

Plastic pollution is not an abstract environmental problem. It is a lived reality shaped by power, geography, and inequality.

From the oil and gas fields where plastic begins, to the refineries that turn fossil fuels into polymers, to the landfills and incinerators that handle the waste, the burdens fall unevenly. Indigenous communities are displaced by extraction. Fence-line communities breathe toxic emissions from plastic manufacturing. Low-income neighborhoods and communities of color host waste facilities that wealthier areas refuse.

These are not side effects. They are the business model.

And yet the INC process continues to frame plastic pollution primarily as a technical challenge, something to be managed through better coordination, clearer text, and stronger institutional alignment. The Chair’s letter stresses the importance of coherence with existing legal regimes and sensitivity to national circumstances. It calls for steady progress and structured dialogue.

All of that may be necessary.

But it is not sufficient.

A treaty that fails to center justice will fail to solve the problem.

Consider the lifecycle of plastics. Nearly all plastics are made from fossil fuels. The same companies driving climate change are driving the expansion of plastic production, betting on plastics to offset declining demand for gasoline and diesel. Petrochemical facilities are being built and expanded across the Gulf Coast, in Appalachia, and in communities already overburdened by pollution.

At the same time, wealthy nations continue exporting plastic waste to lower-income countries, shifting the environmental and health costs onto communities with fewer resources to resist. Informal waste workers, often women and children, are left to manage mountains of discarded plastic without protections or compensation.

These dynamics are not peripheral to the plastics crisis. They are the crisis.

That is why frontline and Indigenous leaders are sounding the alarm. They are not asking for symbolic recognition. They are demanding meaningful participation, enforceable rights, and policies that address the full lifecycle of plastics, from fossil fuel extraction to final disposal.

Without those elements, the treaty risks becoming another example of what advocates call a “false solution,” an agreement that appears ambitious but leaves the underlying system intact.

We have seen this before.

Climate agreements that rely on voluntary targets instead of binding limits. Recycling initiatives that shift responsibility onto consumers while allowing corporations to expand production. Carbon markets that promise reductions on paper while pollution continues in the same communities.

The danger now is that the plastics treaty will follow the same path, heavy on process, light on accountability.

The INC Chair’s emphasis on balance and predictability may reassure governments and industry stakeholders. But for communities living next to refineries and incinerators, predictability often means predictable harm. For Indigenous Peoples defending their lands and waters, balance often means compromise at their expense.

True inclusion is not measured by the number of meetings held or the elegance of diplomatic language. It is measured by who has power in the final agreement.

Will the treaty include binding limits on plastic production?

Will it protect the rights of Indigenous Peoples and frontline communities?

Will it hold corporations accountable for the pollution they create?

Or will it settle for voluntary commitments and technical fixes that leave the plastics economy largely unchanged?

These are the questions that matter.

As negotiations move toward their final stage in Nairobi, the world faces a choice. We can produce a treaty that manages plastic pollution at the margins, or we can create one that confronts its root causes, fossil fuel dependence, corporate power, and environmental injustice.

One path leads to incremental progress and continued harm.

The other leads to real solutions.

If the global plastics treaty truly aims to end plastic pollution, it must do more than promise inclusion. It must deliver justice.

Anything less is just another false solution.