Brazil’s federal Chamber of Deputies has narrowly approved a sweeping environmental reform—widely dubbed the “Devastation Bill”—in a move that opponents call the most significant regression in the country’s environmental protection framework since the 1980s. With 267 votes in favor and 116 against, the legislation now awaits the signature or veto of President Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva. If devastation bill enacted, it will usher in dramatic changes that critics warn will accelerate deforestation, marginalize Indigenous and quilombola communities, and undermine Brazil’s international climate credibility.
Key among the reforms is a transformed licensing regime, designed to streamline approval for “medium-risk” projects in sectors like mining, agriculture, and infrastructure. Under the proposed License by Adhesion and Commitment system, companies could secure environmental licenses by submitting a simple digital form—eliminating independent impact assessments, technical review, or public hearings. Environmental watchdog groups estimate that up to 80–90 percent of future licensing applications could bypass scrutiny under the new system.
In addition to dismantling core safeguards, the bill allows the creation of a “Special Environmental License” for projects deemed “strategic” by a political council—regardless of their ecological impact. Critics believe this provision was specifically tailored to expedite approvals for contentious projects like Petrobras’ oil exploration in the mouth of the Amazon and the repaving of the BR‑319 highway through intact rainforest regions.
Rights advocates have also sounded alarms over new restrictions on consultation processes for traditional communities. The Devastation bill legislation confines participation rights to officially titled Indigenous and quilombola territories, thereby excluding approximately one‑third of Indigenous lands and 80 percent of quilombola areas still awaiting formal recognition. Activists warn this exclusion abrogates constitutional protections and forfeits oversight over lands already facing encroachment by exploitative development.
Domestic and international environmental organisations have united in their condemnation of the bill. More than 350 civil society groups—including Greenpeace, WWF-Brazil, the Climate Observatory, and Instituto Socioambiental—have described the legislation as an institutional collapse after forty years of progress in environmental law. They warn that it will weaken pollution controls, heighten water contamination and resource scarcity, and significantly degrade protected areas and wildlife habitats. Experts cite lessons from past catastrophes—such as the Mariana and Brumadinho dam disasters—and stress that dismantling licensing mechanisms could pave the way for similar tragedies in the future.
Among the dissenters is Environment Minister Marina Silva, who has strongly opposed the legislation, calling it “the burial of environmental licensing.” She has urged President Lula to veto the dangerous provisions and preserve the technical integrity of Brazil’s environmental regulation system. However, the administration appears internally divided, and critics argue Lula’s relative silence on the issue sends mixed signals—especially given that Brazil is set to host the COP30 climate summit in Belém later this year.
Should the president issue a veto—even a partial one—Congress holds enough votes to potentially override it. Legal experts anticipate court challenges, arguing the bill may violate constitutional protections and undermine judicial precedent relating to Indigenous and environmental rights.
In sum, this legislation marks a turning point: proponents hail it as needed economic deregulation, while opponents warn it sacrifices Brazil’s environmental leadership and legal safeguards. With COP30 approaching and global scrutiny growing, Brazil now faces mounting pressure to reconcile its climate ambitions with the realities of domestic political and legislative change.
