Future Council follows eight children fighting for the climate. But should kids be saddled with such a burden?

The Guardian

a day ago

Ruby Rodgers didn't expect to cry. The 14-year-old singer-songwriter and granddaughter of Australian rock great Jimmy Barnes had promised herself she'd be strong. But when she found herself surrounded by other young people voicing their fears about the climate crisis, she let the tears fall.
'I was really worried people were going to see that and think I was overly sensitive,' she says. 'But I was a child. I am a child. And I realised how important it was for other kids to see that it's OK to feel deeply.'
Rodgers is one of eight children from around the world who are featured in Future Council, a new documentary from Damon Gameau, the Australian director of crusading documentaries That Sugar Film and 2040. The film follows Gameau and the group of young climate activists on a road trip across Europe in a yellow school bus, on a mission to voice their concerns about the planet's great environmental challenges in the boardrooms of some of the world's largest and most powerful corporations. They ask to be heard as a council of children, speaking for their future.
It's a bold premise, and one that invites scrutiny. Can a group of children really influence multinational corporations – or a well-meaning but ultimately futile symbolic gesture?
Gameau is aware of the tension. 'They're not here to save the world or understand the complexities of geopolitics,' he says of his young subjects. 'But they bring a refreshing creativity and moral clarity that makes adults think differently.'
Future Council's most compelling scenes are not the boardroom showdowns – 'You're not a powerful leader, you're a disgrace,' 12-year-old Skye tells one multinational executive – but the quieter, more vulnerable moments. One takes place by Lake Geneva, where the children, overwhelmed after a visit to the Nestlé corporation headquarters, are given a moment to sit and off-load some big feelings and fears about the future of the planet.
A few are in tears. One child walks off, unable to continue filming. It's uncomfortable viewing. Are these kids being exploited? Is this just there to tug at the viewer's heartstrings?
Gameau is acutely aware of the responsibility he had, and has, to the children. 'We didn't know what was going to happen,' he says of that day by the lake. 'It wasn't about making them cry. It was about creating space for real conversations.' After having watched it with audiences, he believes this scene is 'incredibly potent because I think the children actually give permission for adults to let go and have a big cry around this stuff. I feel like so many of us are holding this overwhelm at bay.'
When the cameras stopped rolling, Gameau jumped into the lake, fully clothed, to break the ice and relieve the tension. One by one, the children and their parents followed.
'We were carrying so much,' he says. 'That moment shifted everything.'
The production team took duty of care seriously. Each child travelled with a parent or guardian. A coach full of parents and crew and luggage followed the yellow bus. Daily wellbeing check-ins were held. The children and adults stayed in shared houses, cooked meals together, and played outside to unwind, and formed what Gameau calls 'a beautiful travelling circus'.
Since filming wrapped, the support has continued. Parents received guidance on social media exposure and the children remain in close contact. The group travelled to the United Nations General Assembly to screen the film and conduct a global press conference; now they're in Australia together for the release (only two of the children are Australian).
Future Council has inspired a growing youth-led movement, with more than 150 children around the world forming their own councils to collaborate on environmental solutions and advise businesses on sustainable practices. Ten more children joined up at a preview screening on the Gold Coast last week.
Council members have already started working with Officeworks to co-design eco-friendly school supplies, with profits going to Future Council regeneration projects where the children vote on how the money is allocated – an arrangement the Future Council hopes to set up with companies around the world in the coming years.
The council's manifesto is clear-eyed. 'We will not be used for media stunts, marketing spin or greenwashing,' it reads. 'We won't be adult-washed and we don't accept money unless there's honesty and a visible commitment to change.'
Still, the question lingers: does Future Council give children a false sense of agency – an illusion of hope?
Rodgers doesn't think so. 'We were completely us,' she says. 'And I think that's what made the corporate leaders listen. They went from being a brick wall to becoming more human. We got through to them on an emotional level.'
One of the film's most talked-about scenes takes place at ING, where the children challenge bank executives on their environmental policies. Gameau recalls the shift in the room – from corporate detachment to genuine engagement.
'To their credit, ING leaned in,' he says. 'They've offered to support the Council and introduce [the film] to 40,000 of their clients. Of course, there are limits to what they can do. But they saw that these kids have something to offer.'
Rodgers, who is now 15, has since signed a record deal with Universal, released a single inspired by her experience and given a TEDx Talk on the film and the movement it has inspired. Her cover of Coldplay's Fix You features in the film's trailer. It's a haunting, hopeful anthem for a generation grappling with uncertainty.
She's optimistic, but not naive. 'It can be scary, especially when people aren't listening,' she says. 'But being in these communities where people truly hear each other, that's where change begins. I don't think we're pretending we have all the power. But we're not powerless either.'
Future Council is in Australian cinemas now.