We’re constantly told that we can ‘offset’ our carbon emissions by simply ticking a little box to plant a tree somewhere and your guilt magically disappears. Companies trumpet their ‘carbon neutral’ credentials, and even governments proudly announce ‘net zero’ plans. It all sounds wonderfully reassuring. There’s just one small problem: it’s all a load of rubbish.
The idea of carbon offsetting was meant to help balance out our emissions by funding projects that remove or reduce CO₂ elsewhere. Things like planting trees, protecting forests, or investing in renewable energy. On paper, it sounds perfectly sensible. In reality, it’s become little more than a feel good illusion designed to make us believe that business as usual can continue indefinitely.
Take tree planting. It’s the go to solution for most offsetting schemes. But many of these forests were going to be planted anyway as part of ordinary conservation or commercial forestry. So companies are claiming credit for work that was already happening. Others plant vast monocultures of fast-growing trees that soak up carbon for a few decades before being harvested at which point all that CO₂ goes straight back into the atmosphere. And here’s the kicker, some of these forests are used multiple times for offsetting. The same patch of woodland can be sold multiple times as a new carbon credit every few years; currently, as little as five in many schemes. It’s as if the trees have magically started absorbing carbon all over again. It’s a creative-accounting trick.
This is big business. Take Tesla: they generated US $1.78 billion in 2022 through selling carbon credits. Zefiro Methane, which went public in 2024, raised millions through an IPO, and is now selling credits from methane abatement projects. In short, offsetting isn’t merely a moral gesture, it’s a profit centre. Despite studies that show more than 90% of voluntary carbon offset projects fail to deliver the reductions they promise the industry is booming.
So, why is it so successful. It’s simple, offsetting lets people and companies buy their way out of guilt. It’s far easier for an airline to boast about planting trees in Madagascar than to genuinely cut the number of flights it operates. It’s easier for big oil firms to fund carbon credits than to actually stop pumping out fossil fuels. Governments love it too, it allows them to look green without making unpopular decisions that might upset voters or industries that pay taxes. In short, carbon offsetting is the perfect moral fig leaf. It creates the illusion of action while avoiding the inconvenience of real change.
Let’s be honest, the scale of the problem really does make offsetting look absurd anyway. The world produces around 37 billion tonnes of CO₂ each year. To absorb even a small fraction of that through tree planting, would require land the size of multiple continents. It’s fantasy economics. The planet simply doesn’t have the spare space or time to grow its way out of this. What’s worse is that the offsetting industry has become a business in its own right. There’s now serious money to be made in selling green credits to corporations desperate for a clean conscience. Consultants, certification bodies, and investors are all cashing in. Once again, climate change has become less about saving the planet and more about keeping the machine turning. Meanwhile, ordinary people are told to recycle coffee cups, pay a bit extra for carbon neutral delivery, and feel that we’re doing our bit. But it’s all theatre. The uncomfortable truth is that the only real way to reduce emissions is to emit less in the first place and that means big changes in how we live, travel, and consume. Offsetting doesn’t solve that problem; it distracts from it. It keeps the moral ledger tidy while the numbers keep rising. If anything, it delays the genuine innovation and hard choices we’ll eventually have to make.
So next time you’re offered the chance to offset your carbon footprint, ask yourself who it’s really for. The planet won’t notice. But someone’s balance sheet will.