Asking the Hard Questions on Environmental Justice
Author
Arielle King - Environmental Law Institute
Jason Williams - Dominion Energy
Marco Merrick - Department of Public Works, Baltimore City
Fred Tutman - Patuxent Riverkeeper
Dana Johnson - WE ACT for Environmental Justice
Stacey Sublett Halliday - Beveridge & Diamond
Environmental Law Institute
Dominion Energy
Department of Public Works, Baltimore City
Patuxent Riverkeeper
WE ACT for Environmental Justice
Beveridge & Diamond
Current Issue
Issue
1
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Environmental justice has received heightened political attention in recent years. This renewed focus owes in part to a pandemic that laid bare the racial fissures still plaguing American society, and in part to decades of community organizing. On a federal level, President Biden has highlighted EJ as a key part of his agenda, and institutions nationwide have pushed forward to consider justice and equity in their cultures and practices.

Governments at all levels are reexamining how to level the distribution of environmental benefits and burdens. Meanwhile, companies are increasingly focused on ways to improve their relationships with the communities in which they operate, including environmental justice neighborhoods. Changing corporate strategies may help shift the power dynamics that have contributed to the legacy of environmental injustices.

Despite a growing number of commitments from organizations to prioritize environmental and racial justice, many questions remain on how their words will be put in action. How can corporations, governments, activists, and communities work together to achieve EJ goals? And in doing so, how can outsiders center — and not drown out — community voices?

Every October, ELI holds its principal policy event of the year. In 2021, the Corporate and Policy Forum brought together a handful of experts from a variety of sectors, including ELI Environmental Justice Staff Attorney Arielle King, who moderated the discussion.

The Corporate and Policy Forum

Arielle King, Environmental Justice Staff Attorney, ELI: This October, we honor the 30th anniversary of the first National People of Color Environmental Leadership Summit. Environmental justice leaders from across the nation came to Washington, D.C., to discuss ways to advance environmental justice, eliminate the harmful impacts of environmental racism, and reimagine how we define the environment to include where we live, work, and play.

Since then, the EJ movement has gained tremendous momentum over the last few years. This has been solidified by President Biden and his administration’s commitments to prioritize equity, justice, and community engagement through executive orders and the creation of the White House Environmental Justice Advisory Council.

Companies have a continually growing role in environmental management and sustainability. As we strive to maintain a livable planet, environmental justice must be included in this equation. Join me as we welcome a set of experts representing various institutions who will share the ways that their particular work is advancing environmental justice.

Marco Merrick, Acting Chief of Equity and Environmental Justice, Department of Public Works, Baltimore City: The Office of Equity and Environmental Justice at the Department of Public Works was established to promote equal opportunity within the agency, and reduce disparities and burdens that create barriers to the work that we do internally and for the citizens of Baltimore.

We provide guidance, education, and technical assistance to enable sustainable and equitable outcomes in the services that we provide and within the community that we serve. We work with community partners and stakeholders to promote equity and inclusion within the city government, producing measurable improvement and disparity reduction.

Supporting human rights and opportunities for all — that’s a whole lot of language. For me, it is important that we tangibilitate what we do. That’s a word that I borrowed from one of my mentors. It means taking action on these buzz phrases that are often just boxes to check. They make us look good on paper, but what does it mean to truly lean into the work?

The Department of Public Works uses a four-prong approach: equity, educate, eradicate, and enforce.

To understand environmental justice, we need to first establish the distinction between equality and equity. Equality, from our agency’s standpoint, provides the same level of opportunity and assistance in all segments of the society regardless of demographics.

Equity, however, provides different levels of support and assistance based on the specific needs and circumstances of a community. Equality enables all of our customers to receive a water bill that’s based on fees and consumption. Everybody gets a bill — that’s equality. Achieving equity would mean we ensure that everyone can afford their water bill — receiving water that is affordable to all.

In terms of education, we are educating ourselves and our customers, not just about our services but also about the environment and the factors that affect it. These include systemic discrimination and racism, which not only affect the quality of air and water but also our customers’ emotional and psychological well-being.

Eradication is more than just getting rid of the burdens and barriers that plague certain marginalized communities, particularly in urban centers like Baltimore. Eradication also means eliminating the mindset and ways of thinking and practices that have enabled these barriers, and have informed where certain services are placed or not placed based on the socioeconomic makeup of that particular community.

The last “E,” enforcement, is not necessarily something that is regulatory. Enforcement can also mean rewarding or reinforcing a practice, an idea, a system, or a process. Our director, Dr. Jason Mitchell, who is fairly new to us in Baltimore, having come from Oakland, California, brings to our attention that we have wonderful technologies and incredible systems. Sometimes it’s not the system that holds us back from moving toward equity and environmental justice — it’s our processes. So we are also taking a close and intentional look at our processes and how we can enable them to advance our agenda around equity and environmental justice.

Dana Johnson, Director of the Federal Policy Office, WE ACT for Environmental Justice: WE ACT for Environmental Justice was founded more than 30 years ago in response to an act of overt racism impacting residents living in West Harlem, New York City, with the siting of a sewage treatment plant in the community. Since then we’ve grown into an organization that has offices in New York and Washington, D.C., where I’m based.

We are one of the first people of color-led environmental justice organizations in New York state, and the only grassroots EJ organization with a permanent presence in Washington, D.C. WE ACT convenes the Environmental Justice Leadership Forum — an alliance of more than 50 EJ organizations representing 22 states — which is managed in our D.C. office. In many ways, WE ACT represents the interests of those organizations at the federal level when it comes to environmental, economic, and energy justice policies and practices.

I thought about several questions while preparing for this conversation: What is the relationship between environmental, social, and governance responsibilities and communities? And how can we operationalize equity at the local, state, and federal levels of government?

First, we are aware of the false solutions embedded in the climate policies and investments of the bipartisan infrastructure package and Build Back Better framework. Second, we see greenwashing happening in the corporate space, as companies position themselves as having products, services, and operations that are environmentally sound and center environmental justice.

Our goals are to ensure that this once-in-a-lifetime moment of historic investments addresses legacy harms and facilitates a just and equitable transition to a clean energy economy.

Jason Williams, Vice President, Environmental, Dominion Energy: As a utility, our responsibility is to provide safe, reliable, and affordable energy to all customers. We’ve recently instituted a formal environmental justice policy that applies to our entire company.

All projects now consider not only financial and customer needs, but also environmental justice and the screening associated with it. We start off by identifying any affected communities. But the important step is what you do from there. We’re focusing our efforts on partnering with teams across our whole company, including our external affairs team, and reaching out to communities. Our main focus is having meaningful conversations. If you don’t have conversations, you can’t address concerns. And you can’t reach out to individuals if you’re not looking in the right places.

We needed help in that area, so we’ve also established expanding councils in our three major states. These are councils made up of individuals that represent different EJ communities and minority groups that speak with us on our projects. We can go to them and talk through an upcoming project and get their input on potential concerns. Or they might suggest certain individuals or organizations with strong ties to the community to make sure you’re talking to the right people.

I’ll speak about a few different examples. We had a transmission project — those are the larger power lines, for those not used to the industry jargon — where we found out that there was a small Vietnamese community we hadn’t engaged with. Many of the folks in the community didn’t speak English, so although we sent out mailers and did other things, nobody paid attention because the outreach wasn’t in an appropriate medium.

So instead, we targeted communications and flyers in their language and actually engaged a couple of businesses and organizations in that area to get the word out and have meaningful conversation. I don’t think that would have happened just a few years ago. It would not have been on our radar to make sure that we reached out to this group.

I love Marco’s perspective on equity. It’s something we’ve focused on here at Dominion. We have a lot of programs that help people with bills and provide access to benefits, and we’re also launching programs for low-income communities to get solar. Because we’re also closing down coal stations and older power stations, we’re now trying to work through where to find employment for these folks in the new clean energy economy, how we can help the communities where we may have been the main employer, and how we can help these people transition.

Fred Tutman, Riverkeeper & CEO, Patuxent Riverkeeper. Tutman is the only African American riverkeeper in the country: When we talk about the struggle for environmental justice, different groups are not always talking about the same thing. For community organizers, the battle for environmental justice is a battle for self-determination for communities that have been previously denied it.

It’s not a cue for Big Greens and others to redouble their efforts to get funded to do work in BIPOC communities. The idea is to help these communities own their own battles, and to go forward with a stronger connection to the heart and the source of the power that controls their environmental future.

Many U.S. conservation organizations are largely funded by and dependent on appeasing wealth. They don’t see comparable wealth in communities of color. For many organizations, their commitment to shifting the organization toward environmental justice is entirely provisional. These organizations have been, I think, nationally embarrassed by their tone deafness in the aftermath of the George Floyd murder.

Yet these organizations that are historically dependent on getting affluent white people to give them money don’t necessarily want to focus on social justice, human rights, and other issues that don’t relate to the primary concerns of their members and their donors. It’s an alternate reality. These social justice issues are concerns that are less real and less appealing to their backers, and to the people already in their clubs.

Not too long ago, I asked the chairman of the board of a large national environmental group what his vision was for diversity. He said, “I don’t know, Fred, but I know the funders like it.” I understand that historically, these organizations have invested themselves in feel-good campaigns. Yes, they do solid policy work in some instances. But they are not so interested in pursuing controversial social justice issues.

In the Chesapeake Bay area, these organizations focus mostly on saving crabs and oysters. There is really no discussion whatsoever around protecting communities and saving the heritage or the history in a particular place. Those ideas, to the extent they deviate and move their attention away from appeasing white donors, tend to scare off the money. In reality, the bay communities are in a struggle everyday under the jackboot of accumulated burdens.

There are folks who have a sense of career entitlement to speak for these issues and get funded to work on them. There is a huge and growing complex of white-obsessed groups that seek to impose their environmental vision on communities that are actually connected to the things they feel entitled to work on.

These organizations are desperate for people of color to participate, not necessarily because it’s the right thing to do but because it makes their voices appear more legitimate and representative. In this renaissance of consciousness about environmental justice, the movement is actually unleashing new voices to speak about the environment. It throws into relief the reality that these “leading” organizations don’t necessarily speak for everybody.

In fact, their top-down structure actually makes it impossible to connect to BIPOC communities such that they could articulate the actual concerns of those people and places. So the natural result of people of color expressing our ideas about the environment actually competes with the tacit idea that these groups have domain over the environment everywhere they go, and have the ability to essentially build their own environmental brand wherever they can.

Not long ago I went to a meeting of environmentalists with the Maryland attorney general to discuss environmental issues. At the outset of the meeting, a person stood up and said, “Sir, we’re ready to start the meeting because all the leading environmentalists in the state are present.” I looked around the room and saw no other people of color. Consider the arrogance of the presumption that, in order to be a leading environmentalist, you need to be connected and invited. It’s normal for the leading environmentalists to usually be the insiders.

People of color are rarely insiders even if we wanted to be. I was actually offended. I didn’t want to be an insider. I didn’t think that was a credential to make decisions on behalf of people who weren’t present, weren’t invited, and weren’t participating in the meeting.

The merging of people’s career aspirations with the justice aspirations of local communities is a problem and a conflict of interest sometimes. It repositions the local burdens away from these troublesome problems that have to be resolved locally by the community, and instead refocuses them on issues that are trite and easily funded — like storm water and climate change. Those aren’t really expressed problems; they’re big picture issues.

Most of these groups argue that they choose to follow the best science. However, that science often creates a very narrow frame that leaves little room for local knowledge, wisdom, tradition, culture, or anything else. In effect, they use the science not to raise understanding, but rather as a basis to strip and plunder community-based problems into issues that environmental professionals can get funded to work on. They generally don’t share those resources with the local community. These groups consequently have a catastrophic impact on the community’s voice.

Battles for environmental justice are battles to reframe and decolonize. To attack and expunge voices drawn from capitalism, imperialism, colonialism, and supremacist points of view. If we can’t do that, people of color will continue to boycott these movements. We will not participate in movements where we are an afterthought, an asterisk, or a footnote. That’s an important framework to use if you want to look at environmental justice in its totality.

Stacey Sublett Halliday, Principal, Beveridge & Diamond. Halliday is the co-leader of the environmental justice practice group at Beveridge and Diamond: Our environmental justice practice group has been growing pretty rapidly, in part because of our clients’ growing interest in environmental justice. This is sparked by a rise in EJ laws, and what we’re seeing on the federal level with significant attention from the Biden administration in prioritizing environmental justice.

What I’ve generally been doing with companies — from utilities to the tech sectors to retail — is helping them first understand key principles of environmental justice. This is a new concept for a lot of companies. We work with the well-intentioned staff in those organizations to define their terms, to develop policies and practices, and think about how to incorporate a lens of environmental justice into what they do.

There’s a new focus on environmental justice now. We’re going to see redrafting of Executive Order 12898, which is the White House directive for federal agencies to prioritize environmental justice in their operations. This will likely provide some direction for companies trying to operationalize terms like cumulative effects, disproportionate impacts, and EJ communities.

The reissuance of NEPA regulations that are going to incorporate EJ elements in large federal projects may also be accompanied by new mapping tools, which could be used for enforcement, grant distribution, and so on.

We’re also seeing evolving state laws like New Jersey’s S232, a law that’s going to require certain facilities in certain overburdened communities to conduct an EJ analysis for permitting. That’s going to be a big laboratory for environmental justice regulation.

I also want to highlight that EJ in the corporate space is not limited to energy companies. Regulations requiring warehouses to reduce emissions from heavy-duty freight and high-emitting vehicles will affect industries with significant overseas supply chains. That’s going to impact their distribution networks, and these effects may ultimately impact environmental justice communities.

If you are in retail and your company has large manufacturing productions, learning about the communities affected by your operations and distribution is one way to consider your environmental justice impacts. Companies seeking to recycle and embrace more circular economy strategies will have to think about the EJ implications of recycling facilities, which themselves have historically been significant focal points for environmental justice reform.

I’ll close out with a couple of best practices that we share with our clients. The first is, “Know thyself.” This means doing a self-assessment, understanding the communities who are your neighbors and speaking with those neighbors, and getting an understanding of EJ impacts by using available tools. We usually advise using EPA’s EJSCREEN as a starting point, but then go out and get to know those communities on the ground. It’s important to listen and learn from the communities and prioritize their voices.

EJ is a lens across all of your operations. It should not be siloed in one office. It involves thinking about your disclosures, your ESG program, your operations, your project teams, and your training, and using EJ as a lens across the board.

Arielle King: At this point, I want to give an opportunity for the panelists to share reflections about what they’ve heard from other panelists.

Fred Tutman: For the most part, I don’t really care if organizations and institutions diversify or not. They need to just come clean. We don’t want to waste our time trying to help them diversify and become inclusive, and then settle for something that pretty much preserves the existing status quo, but sprinkles in a few people of color as vice president or on the board or something like that to create the illusion that they speak for a much broader constituency.

They have to rightsize these voices or they’re not legitimate voices. That’s the struggle that these groups are trying to address — how they can stay the same yet still become diverse. It’s a terrible box they put themselves in.

At the same time, I really do support and believe in some of these organizations that are actually having that inward-looking process. Historically, it’s been an outward-looking process, trying to get Black people to act more like white people or something along those lines. That’s a dead end. I’m on board with helping anybody accomplish looking inward who’s sincere.

With the others, that’s fine. I still like you, but we understand that you only speak for whom you speak for. You’re not an everyman kind of organization. That has to be made clear.

Arielle King: For those panelists that identify as Black and/or people of color, do you have any advice on how to navigate white-dominated spaces in the environmental field?

Dana Johnson: This week, Reverend Michael Malcolm of Alabama Interfaith Power and Light pointed out the very thing that Mr. Tutman spoke about earlier, which is that we get to decide what environmental justice looks like in our communities. We get to decide what a just transition looks like. We get to decide what investments in our communities look like. And we get to decide the indicators that are used to pursue investment decisions. Dominance doesn’t work in any kind of relationship. Whether we’re talking about being allies together in a movement or personal relationships, it just doesn’t work.

This is not a problem for us — as people of color, as African Americans, as Black folks working in this space — to solve. This is for other folks to acknowledge our humanity and adhere to the principle of environmental justice that states we speak for ourselves. This moment is about addressing environmental justice, and those who are not from a frontline community must take a step back. They should not lead this work, but they can provide support. This, quite frankly, is not a new concept. We have been talking about these same issues for decades.

People of color should continue to move forward, but we need our national and white advocates in this space to defer.

Fred Tutman: We’re very intentional about not partnering with organizations and institutions that don’t share our values in this respect. You know, we check Black Twitter and other places. Some organizations have a reputation for being really bad with Black communities. There are a bunch of them out there. I’m not naming names today.

I will say that this has been an odyssey for us. We weren’t always this way at Patuxent Riverkeeper. We began to listen to what our Indigenous and people of color members were saying about what was going on within the organization, and we drew a line in the sand. I published an article titled “Why Black Is Not the New Green.” It ended up getting syndicated around the country, and I had two board members quit literally overnight.

At the other end of the spectrum, we’re also trying very hard to not be a Black insider’s club. We’re trying to create a club that is truly equitable. That takes a lot of intentionality. It’s not a Coca-Cola commercial where everyone’s holding hands. You really have to work at this because there are divisions. There are differences in what people see and what they’ve experienced. We’re trying to reconcile those.

I run an organization exactly like the kind I’d want to join. It’s a day-to-day struggle to try and maintain that perspective, because there are certainly people involved with Patuxent Riverkeeper who would be perfectly happy if we were a Black or brown insider’s club. And that’s not what we’re trying to do at all. We’re going to save this planet together or not at all — it’s that simple.

White people are not going to save this planet single-handedly while Black folks look on, applaud, and send money. We have to build organizations that are equitable and have full participation, otherwise they’re not likely to achieve the aims they promise.

Arielle King: EPA has increased its activities related to environmental justice and its assessments on all of its programs. Does the panel have any feelings on how EPA has handled or has plans to handle assessing the impacts of fenceline communities and related reparations? Do you think they have provided companies or regulated entities with enough guidance on how to get involved or educate them at this point?

Fred Tutman: I’m impressed by some of the appointments. Some of the people appointed to new EPA roles are folks I know. It’s early in the game, but I’m encouraged.

Stacey Sublett Halliday: As a veteran of EPA’s Office of the General Counsel, I’m also feeling encouraged. They’re putting some real powerful folks in great positions. We have Professor Carlton Waterhouse, a longstanding EJ advocate, practitioner, and professor, now serving as deputy assistant administrator of the Office of Land and Emergency Management. Administrator Regan is experienced in environmental justice. On the White House level, we have Brenda Mallory. The White House Environmental Justice Advisory Council will hopefully play a significant role in the shaping of programs like the Justice 40 initiative.

With EPA’s limited resources, it will be tough to accomplish all the goals that the administration has put forward. But I think a lot will be achieved by using existing tools like the affirmative authorities and reading environmental justice into various statutes. Using enforcement measures in a serious way will be a key tool for the agency in furthering its EJ goals.

Dana Johnson: We are part of a coalition of environmental justice groups focused on freight-sector regulations and how to make them stronger. From a community engagement perspective, I think the EPA has been good. They hold regular meetings with environmental justice advocates and we have a regular drumbeat of engagement around transportation sector regulations.

Stacey Sublett Halliday: I think the 2022-2026 EPA Strategic Plan is also encouraging. It includes a specific goal for EJ now, and outlines measures for issues like PFAS.

Arielle King: What would you recommend to government agencies trying to reach EJ communities beyond their current efforts? This question comes from someone who works within the EPA who is trying to reach overburdened communities in a criminal enforcement context.

Dana Johnson: The first thing that comes to mind for me is: How many of us are interested in showing up in a government office or building? You have to think about if you’re providing a welcoming, open, accessible space. If not, then I think Jason’s point about going to where the people are is important.

One of the most beautiful examples I can think of is a program that the nonprofit Color of Change did around bail reform. The program kicked off on Valentine’s Day and centered on love — love of the community, love between families, and the impact of bail on separating families.

The program included components that empowered community members to host conversations and listening sessions in their spheres of influence. There were opportunities to engage with county and state officials around the topic.

There is a need to come out from behind the desk and go to the people in their environment. You also need to leverage people who are already embedded in the community, who know where people are and when they will be available, and you also need to leverage groups. For example, we have climate justice working group sessions. We have healthy home sessions. A group like WE ACT would be a great vehicle for reaching folks that one might want to speak with.

Arielle King: Science is often used as a justification in environmental decisionmaking. How can environmental scientists who rely heavily on top-down, data-heavy methods better center community knowledge and existing community networks in data collection? Have you seen any examples of that happening in your work so far?

Dana Johnson: Something we talk about at WE ACT is the role of community participatory research in better defining not only environmental justice issues but also solutions. It’s also important that this research or scientific data be co-owned — by the research entity and the community. I think that that can go a long way in benefiting both parties and furthering the conversation and the development of solutions.

Marco Merrick: The Department of Public Works has a number of initiatives that center community-driven data collection and education. One is an eco-ambassadors program in collaboration with local universities and schools. We partner with students who are interested in environmental studies and careers. They collaborate with city agencies and work with the community as an ambassador to help us gather data on the difference we are making around equity.

Metrics allow us to see if a difference is being made and assess if we are going backwards — which is not an option.

Another initiative is a citizen scientist program that we’re trying to establish through our Office of Communications and peace alliances. This program will enable communities and residents — ideally young people — to become informed and educated about environmental matters, and they’ll bring any environmental issues of concern to our attention.

Arielle King: From your experiences, how is industry responding to the overall EJ focus when it comes to facilities located in states that do not have strong EJ policies? Are corporate EJ policies going to be uniform, or will their scope and seriousness vary state by state depending on needs?

Stacey Sublett Halliday: The folks who are coming to us usually want to take this issue seriously — and not just in risk assessment. They want to proactively launch into developing, like Dominion Energy has, an outward-facing environmental justice policy that highlights EJ as a key component of corporate social responsibility throughout the company. Some of those companies are global, so they’re also taking an international approach.

There’s certainly a significant variety and diversity of approaches to EJ state by state. New Jersey is not Texas. But with a large company, you need to approach these things broadly. We see EJ as something incorporated into ESG and corporate social responsibility at large. Even utilities focused on regional areas still want to approach EJ with a comprehensive policy, rather than in a piecemeal fashion.

Arielle King: Along those same lines, with an increased prioritization of ESG reporting for corporations, what do you think must be added to ESG reporting to prioritize environmental justice?

Jason Williams: You’ve got to have some sort of reporting to measure what’s being done and see if you’re making improvements. But right now it’s hard to answer that question because the results are quite qualitative so far. In the community, you’re trying to make connections. That’s a hard thing to roll up into a report. Climate reporting, in contrast, is emissions. You can measure it. It gets a lot harder with environmental justice and equity because there are so many qualitative aspects.

In the future, there will be some expectation of reporting. The key will be finding the right metrics, as well as some consistency, because these programs vary a lot state to state and community to community. While some metrics might make sense for one area, they might not elsewhere. It may be tricky to compare performance depending on where companies operate.

Though there are challenges, it doesn’t mean it can’t be done. It’s just something we’ll need to think through collectively. In the meantime, we’re trying to be as transparent as we can and seeking feedback. At some point that will morph into more detailed reporting.

I will note that in at least one of the states we operate, our utility regulator has started asking what we did for environmental justice on certain projects. They’re asking, “What did you evaluate and what actions did you take?” So this demand for EJ reporting is already here. It’s only a matter of time before this demand arrives from the shareholder and investor sides. But some tough questions remain on how to do it and make it meaningful.

Arielle King: What is the role of litigation in advancing environmental justice? What do judges need to know in order to make better decisions in this area?

Fred Tutman: From an empowerment standpoint, I have always pursued the notion that having the capacity to litigate increases our ability to have effective conversations with people in power. If we’re coming in on our hands and knees saying pretty please with a cherry on top, it’s not nearly as persuasive.

That said, judges don’t love us much. They’re annoyed that we’re creating trouble for these wealthy people who create jobs in the community. Frankly, sometimes the only power we have in a judicial setting is the power of uncertainty in the outcome. That gives us a little bit of power.

Anybody who ever got sued by the Patuxent Riverkeeper saw it coming. We’re not ambushers. We’re pretty peaceful people. But we do strongly believe that communities need to understand that they have rights of redress, and they should pursue them.

Riverkeepers and waterkeepers are an international movement. Having been on the Board of Waterkeeper, the licensing body, I’m aware that there are places around the world where people proceed with litigation at their own risk, even if they have a legal framework to do so. It’s definitely a mixed bag.

I wish they taught more law in high school. I wish people left high school with more understanding about the Constitution and how to file a FOIA request and all kinds of legal topics that are really, really useful for citizens in a world where rights are being chipped away almost daily.

We’re on the playing field in a very different way because we have the capacity to litigate. But we try to avoid it if we can. It’s expensive. It’s grueling. It’s upsetting. I’ve been punched in the nose by housing developers. I’ve been SLAP-sued by the other side from time to time. That’s all very, very stressful, and my capacity for stress is changing after 18 years.

Stacey Sublett Halliday: I think we’re seeing a shift in the judiciary. We’ve seen different levels of willingness to consider environmental justice a bit outside the box. In Friends of Buckingham v. State Air Pollution Control Board, for example, a permit was tossed back for re-analysis of disproportionate health effects. I think that’s not the only time that’s happened, or will happen.

We’re seeing it happen more and more, not just in courts but in administrative complaints with EPA — certainly more recently with EPA taking a second look at pulling permits. We’re also seeing the Fair Housing Act and other civil rights statutes being used to pull back permits and projects to re-assess EJ impacts.

To Mr. Tutman’s point, litigation is something you hope to not have to use. But I certainly think the bench is changing a bit in how they’re considering environmental justice. TEF

Environmental justice has received heightened political attention in recent years. President Biden has highlighted EJ as a key part of his agenda, and institutions nationwide now consider justice and equity in their cultures. Governments at all levels are reexamining how to level the distribution of environmental benefits and burdens. Meanwhile, companies are focusing on the communities in which they operate.

Setting the Record Straight on Justice
Author
Taylor Lilley - Chesapeake Bay Foundation
Chesapeake Bay Foundation
Current Issue
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Parent Article
A Black woman with braids in a blazer smiles at the camera

At its heart, environmental justice recognizes the disproportionate distribution of harmful environmental burdens among low-income communities, communities of color, and other marginalized and vulnerable individuals. To address environmental injustices, many advocates have turned their attention to the permitting and siting of facilities that release pollutants as a byproduct of their operations, whether through air emissions or discharges to waterways. This has proven to be a worthy but cumbersome exercise, largely due to the intricacies of demonstrating that a particular community will be disproportionately harmed by a proposed facility, and the challenges of advancing these arguments before state and local regulators.

Disproportionate impact is often a function of proximity and relative harm. Because of this, the viability of environmental justice arguments depends on the ability of parties to introduce accurate data about public health, and the relative makeup of potentially impacted communities, into the record.

The Fourth Circuit’s decision on Friends of Buckingham v. State Air Pollution Control Board has become the quintessential example of challenging local agency review of environmental justice data. In 2019, the Chesapeake Bay Foundation and the Southern Environmental Law Center appealed the Virginia State Air Pollution Control Board’s decision to approve an air permit for the Atlantic Coast Pipeline Buckingham Compressor Station. The action was brought on behalf of the Friends of Buckingham, an organization developed by concerned residents and CBF members.

The basis of this challenge was the government’s failure to adequately resolve conflicting facts in the record in a manner consistent with its duty under local permitting regulations. In reviewing the proposed permit, the Virginia Department of Environmental Quality utilized EPA’s EJSCREEN tool to evaluate the surrounding communities. Reporting from EJSCREEN suggested the minority population around the compressor station to be in the range of 37 to 39 percent. DEQ also looked to the National Ambient Air Quality Standards to evaluate the relative health impacts from the facility, which in turn suggested that the proposed compressor station would have minor impacts.

These findings were thoroughly rebutted by commenters. A door-to-door study conducted by the Friends of Buckingham showed that minorities made up 83.5 percent of the residents in the surrounding area, with 62 percent of individuals identifying as African American. These findings were no surprise to local residents, several of whom were descendants of the freed slaves that founded the community.

Commenters also provided an extensive study highlighting the harm posed by particulate matter, or PM2.5, one of the main byproducts of the compressor station. This study contradicted DEQ’s findings that NAAQS for PM2.5 were sufficiently protective. Despite being presented with this evidence, the board approved the permit for the Buckingham compressor station.

On appeal, the Fourth Circuit found that the evidence presented by commenters was not properly considered by the board, leading to a rejection of EJSCREEN data as the basis for community evaluation and a finding that NAAQS are not a “sufficiently searching analysis of air quality standards for an environmental justice community.”

While Buckingham set a powerful precedent and provided essential guidance to state and local regulators, it was also a unique pairing of state law and available science. In the end, it was the comprehensive record of evidence and the availability of legal representation that laid a path for success. There are Buckinghams playing out across the nation, each with different laws and resources. The requirements of public participation place a significant burden on local residents to not only become aware of proposed projects at the right time, but also dedicate significant time and resources to combatting the assertions of regulators and applicants alike. The success of challenges in the future will rely on the ability of communities and their partners to set the record straight and tell the stories of all those who would be impacted.

Implementation Woes
Subtitle
Are Agencies Ready for Environmental Justice
Author
Lisa Benjamin - Lewis & Clark Law School
Lewis & Clark Law School
Current Issue
Issue
6
From the Inside Out cover

Environmental justice is back on the political agenda. Environmental injustice, unfortunately, never went away. The Biden administration has made EJ a priority, but the responsibility for implementing political directives will fall primarily on federal agencies. Some progress has already been made on that front, particularly in relation to appointments, significantly with a number of people of color heading and working in many agencies.

But the work to advance environmental justice within agencies requires more in-depth assessment and potential institutional reform. While this administration’s early activity has fostered numerous articles and analyses, few have taken a look at the ongoing fight to foster EJ within government agencies themselves. Jill Lindsey Harrison’s new book From the Inside Out: The Fight for Environmental Justice Within Government Agencies does just that.

An associate professor of sociology at the University of Colorado Boulder, Harrison spent eight years interviewing and observing current and former representatives from a variety of federal and state agencies that work on environmental justice initiatives. These include EPA (headquarters, eight regional offices, and satellite offices), the federal Department of Justice and Department of the Interior, California EPA, Colorado Department of Public Health and Environment, and Oregon Department of Environmental Quality.

Professor Harrison’s work illustrates how agency dynamics can fundamentally undermine environmental justice policies, including their implementation.

My students often ask me why — so many decades after the Clinton administration issued Executive Order 12898 in 1994 and many (many!) strategy and policy documents on environmental justice later — there has been such a lack of progress. We assess case after case where cumulative impacts are not taken into account, and the particular vulnerabilities of environmental justice communities are overlooked by federal and state agencies. To answer their overarching query, I articulate for them what Jill Harrison calls the “standard narrative”: lack of regulatory authority, limited resources at federal agencies to incorporate EJ needs, and the lack of analytical tools to identify at-risk communities. Harrison’s book fleshes out these deficiencies in detail, emphasizing that these are existing, and very real, constraints to EJ policy implementation within government agencies.

Yet these explanations often feel incomplete. Harrison’s book completes the picture for us. While she accepts that these standard narrative deficiencies present very real barriers, the spectacular lack of progress on these issues points to the fact that, as Harrison notes, “Something else is going on.” Her work provides clear examples of career professionals within federal agencies who struggle to understand and prioritize environmental justice. Based on interviews with agency staff (including EJ staff) and observations of agency meetings between 2011 and 2019, the book provides an internal picture of organizational inertia, and even resistance, to EJ initiatives within government agencies. While at times painful to read, her findings are important to confront and address.

Harrison divides these internal obstacles into several categories. The first includes strategies that agency staff, including management, use to undermine environmental justice. For example, in the infamously ineffective office at EPA that handles Title VI complaints, Harrison notes that past management directed staff to use any administrative grounds possible to reject Title VI filings. In addition, none of the staff at the office had any interest or experience in civil rights law, and some were assigned to the office after having done poorly within other jobs at EPA.

The second category concerns staff narratives used to undermine environmental justice. A widespread example of this is EPA staff who feel “we do ecology, not sociology.” These narratives involve claims of agency neutrality, but also discomfort at being required to incorporate EJ into their work, as it is often perceived as peripheral to agency mandates and staff expertise.

It is not all benign neglect. Harrison documents that some agency staff feel that prioritizing communities of color constitutes reverse racism, and use colorblind and post-racial narratives to reject EJ reforms. Some staff bolster this narrative by claiming that colorblind approaches are codified in law, and therefore claim they cannot take into account communities’ racial identities. At the same time, agency staff may also ignore low-income neighborhoods, many of which are white, focusing only on the racial element of environmental justice.

An anonymous feedback note sent to one EJ staff member (who conducts environmental justice training using videos) is illustrative:

“The whole idea of this thing [environmental justice] is based on a lie. There are many people that I have spoken to about this training that fundamentally disagree with what EJ proposes to do. In the minds of many common sense folk this is nothing but propaganda. The lady in the video basically eludes [sic] that everything we do is racist, whether hat’s in the work environment, during our leisure time, or just as individuals. Not true at all. . . . The training also concludes that when in doubt just blame a white person for your life circumstances if they are bad. I think that is the most racist thing I’ve seen in a long time.”

Other agency narratives documented by Harrison include prejudiced disparagement of environmental justice communities themselves, including alleging that communities cannot be trusted to use large EJ financial grants wisely.

Another category of internal constraints is staff using perceived regulatory limits as a way to avoid revisiting existing interpretations of agency authority, or proposing reforms of their mandates. Body language is also a factor, with EJ staff complaining about rolling of eyes, yawning, and checking of phones during EJ training. Most disheartening to read were stories of abuse and disrespect leveled at EJ staff (many of whom are people of color) within agencies.

Despite these many documented obstacles, Harrison notes that many agency EJ staff have persisted, even if their efforts detrimentally affected their career progression. This highlights another important internal obstacle: the refusal to diversify agency staff and management. In addition, performance reviews rarely include environmental justice assessments, and staff can even be reprimanded for taking time to integrate EJ analyses in their work.

Harrison helpfully provides examples of strategies EJ staff have used to manage these obstacles. These include data and mapping tools, which can help to silence discursive pushback. These tools also allow EJ staff to frame environmental justice as central to the mandate and mission of the agency. EJ staff also advise communities on how to frame their feedback in a way that agency staff will value. Some EJ staff remove discussions of race altogether from environmental justice initiatives. Others make EJ a regular part of their work discussions. One staff member interviewed by Harrison noted that she adopted (and vocalized) a personal policy that she would not attend an agency meeting that did not in some way bring up issues of justice. Others challenged coworkers’ narratives of impartiality, and the implications of that narrative for environmental justice communities.

Some of these obstacles are being tackled under President Biden. There should already be a much clearer administrative signal to agencies that EJ is a top political priority, not just a fad. While there are no easy fixes, some of these hurdles should be lessened going forward.

More difficult to tackle within agencies will be cultural and organizational practices, built up over time, which create institutional inertia and resistance. This is why Harrison’s work is so timely and important.

One of the more hopeful strategies the book identifies to combat these narratives is the critical role lawyers can and do play within agencies. Harrison notes that many staff she interviewed identified lawyers as one of the largest and most influential groups of staff within agencies. One staff member recalls how agency attorneys effectively gutted efforts to implement environmental justice, whittling initiatives down to “tame and lame” recommendations. Many agency lawyers are simply not trained in environmental inequalities.

However, lawyers can serve as proactive advocates of EJ initiatives within agencies. Providing clear messages, repeated over time, to employees that race can be one of, if not the sole, criterion used by agencies when considering environmental justice, can combat the colorblind narrative. Harrison notes that finding creative legal solutions within existing regulatory constraints is critically important.

Law schools too have a role to play here. They should produce lawyers who prioritize and care about environmental justice issues, and who are willing to carve out entire careers in that area. This means that law schools must create a pipeline of committed EJ advocates who can harness the law, as it stands, to implement environmental justice. Agencies themselves also need to be involved in this work — building a diverse and culturally sensitive workforce will be a key component of agency effectiveness. Law schools can also contribute to this process, which means increasing the diversity of the student body overall, and particularly those studying environmental law. Representative diversity is important within law schools, NGOs, and government agencies. Environmental justice communities deserve this attention by committed legal practitioners, and, as Harrison documents for us, government agencies clearly need it.

Lisa Benjamin is an assistant professor of law at Lewis & Clark Law School.

On Environmental Justice and Agencies

Sacrifice Zones
Author
Barry E. Hill - Environmental Law Institute
Environmental Law Institute
Current Issue
Issue
6
Sacrifice Zones

People of color and low-income communities living in areas with extreme pollution contribute the least to these problems, but suffer the most. Nothing short of federal environmental justice legislation is needed to address these severe inequities

Th United Nations special rapporteur on human rights and the environment, together with the special rapporteur on toxics and human rights, are in the process of highlighting in a joint study the egregious problems of places throughout the world that are being subjected to severe toxic pollution. These “sacrifice zones,” according to the special rapporteurs, are defined as regions or communities where extreme or pervasive pollution is causing human rights abuses or violations.

Some regard Parkersburg, West Virginia, and its environs as a sacrifice zone. It has been the home for several decades to a facility of the chemical giant DuPont. The plant was involved in the production of perfluorooctanoic acid (PFOA or C8), a synthetic chemical used to produce Teflon. According to several class action lawsuits, the company allegedly dumped these pollutants into a creek feeding into the Ohio River that runs through a property it owned. The suits further allege that PFOA killed farm animals and poisoned the drinking water of surrounding communities, causing high rates of cancer. Although the company denied any wrongdoing, DuPont settled in 2017 some 3,550 personal injury claims for the leak of PFOA and paid $671 million.

While sacrifice zones vary in geographic size, they are proliferating around the world and often result from policies that prioritize economic growth or corporate profits over human life, health, dignity, and wellbeing. Many sacrifice zones are located in low-income, people of color, Indigenous, or other vulnerable and marginalized communities. The special rapporteurs are interested in the steps being taken (or proposed) to clean up and rehabilitate sacrifice zones and protect the human rights of local residents.

The Center for Health, Environment & Justice’s campaign “No More Sacrifice Zones” examines current federal air pollution policies that regulate facility emissions, one stack at a time. The center points out, however, that disproportionately affected communities are exposed to the cumulative impacts of multiple pollutants released over an extended period of time from a cluster of facilities. The problem is not the Environmental Protection Agency’s current air policies; it’s the fact that EPA has no federal environmental justice law to develop regulations and appropriate policies to address the concerns of residents of sacrifice zones.

When President Biden assumed office, there was considerable hope that he would use his political capital in the first 100 days of his presidency to support comprehensive national environmental justice legislation. Such a law would begin to address the longstanding and pervasive environmental and public health problems of individuals living in sacrifice zones in the United States. Instead, upon taking office Biden amended President Clinton’s Executive Order 12898, titled “Federal Actions to Address Environmental Justice in Minority Populations and Low-Income Populations,” with the issuance of E.O. 14008, “Executive Order on Tackling the Climate Crisis at Home and Abroad.”

Although I applaud the Biden administration’s efforts to address this critical issue, no comprehensive environmental justice legislation emerged. This was also a missed opportunity for Senator Joe Manchin (D-WV), the former governor of West Virginia, who in January became the chair of the Senate Energy and Natural Resources Committee.

Enacting comprehensive environmental justice legislation was the dream of the late civil rights icon Representative John Lewis (D-GA), who through his 60-plus years of fearless activism was the unquestioned “Conscience of Congress.” He introduced the Environmental Justice Act of 1992, which was designed for the first time in this nation’s history to address racial discrimination in the enforcement, development, and implementation of environmental laws and policies by EPA and other federal agencies and departments. Since 1992, there have been more than 50 environmental justice-related bills introduced in the House or the Senate. In fact, Representative Lewis dutifully reintroduced his bill each year for more than a dozen years thereafter. Not one of the bills has become law.

Meanwhile, the environmental and public health problems of millions of people living in sacrifice zones continue to get worse. And, according to numerous independent studies, people of color and/or low-income communities have contributed the least to the environmental and public health problems in those sacrifice zones — but suffer the most.

For example, last spring, the American Lung Association issued its 22nd annual “State of the Air” report, which found that people of color were 61 percent more likely to live in a county with unhealthy air than white people. Almost 70 million people of color live in counties that received at least one failing grade on ozone or particle pollution. Nearly 14 million people of color live in counties that received failing grades on all three air quality measures — ozone, plus short-term and long-term particle pollution ­— including 9.7 million Hispanic people. People of color are over three times more likely to be breathing the most polluted air than white people. Indeed, the nation has long been “moving toward two societies, one black, one white — separate and unequal” in terms of environmental injustice.

This warning was first uttered in 1967 by the 11-member National Advisory Commission on Civil Disorders, which was convened by President Lyndon Johnson to explain the riots that plagued cities each summer since 1964, and to provide recommendations for the future. The resulting study, known as the “Kerner Commission Report,” urged Congress to pass legislation to promote racial integration, primarily through the creation of jobs, job training programs, and decent housing. But no legislation was forthcoming from Congress to address the issues of extreme segregation, limited housing choices, and concentrated poverty for people living in what we realize today are sacrifice zones. Congress turned a deaf ear, and the nation is still grappling with the same issues more than 50 years after the Kerner report was issued.

A similar call for legislation was made in August 1971, when the White House Council on Environmental Quality issued its second annual report. It expanded the definition of environmental quality and acknowledged the concept of environmental justice. The CEQ stated: “The inner city, whatever its precise boundaries, is recognized by its inferior environment. Air pollution, a problem for nearly all of the nation, lays its pall most heavily over the inner city in many metropolitan areas.” According to the council: “The traditional environmental objectives of clean air and water and preservation of natural parks and wilderness are not the central concerns of most inner city poor. They focus instead on more immediate economic and social interests.”

Moreover, the CEQ concluded: “Nevertheless, there is growing evidence that among the urban poor — those with the most to gain from environmental improvements — are some who have decided to embrace environmentalism in their own distinct way. Their use of the term environment is broader than the traditional definition. Their concept embraces not only more parks, but better housing: not only cleaner air and water, but rat extermination.” The CEQ recommended that Congress “develop better environmental legislation, repairing old laws and creating new ones.” But no legislation was forthcoming to address the environmental and public health issues of people living in sacrifice zones.

Decades later, the nation is still grappling with these same issues. The American Lung Association report pointed out that Black and Hispanic children living in sacrifice zones are diagnosed with asthma at higher rates than white children. For Black children, the death rate from asthma is almost eight times higher than that for white children, and Hispanic children are twice as likely to die from asthma as are white children.

With respect to low-income white communities suffering from environmental injustices, West Virginia is a prime example, since poverty is a clear cause. According to the 2017 Center for American Progress study titled, “Appalachia: An Environmental Justice Case Study,” West Virginia was 94 percent white; 18.3 percent of the residents were living below the poverty line; and the state ranked 43rd in affluence. Much of the state was covered in mining operations, and gas and oil drilling sites. A spatial analysis showed that the most affluent parts of the state were mostly untouched by those industries while the poorest counties had the densest population of industrial polluters. In short, there was a direct correlation between the presence of industry and poverty.

Moreover, more than 40 percent of West Virginia’s rivers and streams are too polluted, and, according to the state Department of Environmental Protection’s 2012 “Draft West Virginia Integrated Water Quality Monitoring and Assessment Report,” are not to be safely used for drinking water or recreation or to support healthy aquatic life. Although raw sewage, agricultural runoff, and discharges from industrial plants all contribute to the degradation of the health of rivers and streams, one of the largest contributors to poor water quality is the mining industry, particularly mountaintop removal. Researchers have found that MTR is more damaging to rivers and streams, biodiversity, and human health than underground mining. After the dynamite blasts reveal low-sulfur coal deposits, the excess rock and earth is dumped into the valleys. According to the Charleston Daily Mail, this mining process has resulted in the burial of more than 2,000 miles of streams in Appalachia, and has consequently contaminated water supplies and endangered the health of the residents of poor white communities. Health studies have demonstrated that cancers are more common in MTR areas.

As a former West Virginia governor, Senator Manchin should be aware of the need for legislation to address environmental and public health problems in his state. These have been highlighted through the concerted activities of local nongovernmental organizations, including the Just Transition Fund, Appalachian Citizens’ Law Center, Appalachian Voices, Center for Coalfield Justice, Coalfield Development, Generation West Virginia, and the Mountain Association for Community Economic Development. Indeed, House Natural Resources Committee Chair Raul M. Grijalva (D-AZ) promoted last year with great fanfare his Environmental Justice for All bill through a virtual “Environmental Justice Now Tour: Appalachia.”

Winston Churchill once famously said: “Democracy is the worst form of government except for all the others.” Although not perfect, a representative democracy, in theory, aims, among other things, to protect the interests of its citizens, as well as to promote equality regardless of race, gender, age, or economic status. But the tools that could potentially heal our sacrifice zones have largely not worked, from executive orders to litigation citing the Constitution to invoking civil rights law and federal environmental statutes.

Indeed, new legislation has always been the key to addressing major public policy issues in a representative democracy, since laws are rules that protect our general welfare and safety, and ensure our rights as citizens against abuses by other people, by organizations, and by the government itself. As a legislature, Congress, unfortunately, has not been effective at lawmaking in America’s now multi-racial representative democracy, especially when it comes to environmental justice.

In the absence of legislation, federal policymakers have had to rely on executive orders to address environmental justice. These are issued by the president to direct and govern actions by U.S. officials and agencies. They are issued in relation to a law passed by Congress or based on powers granted to the president in the Constitution, and must be consistent with those authorities. For example, Section 6-608 of President Clinton’s 1994 Executive Order No. 12898 states, “Federal agencies shall implement this order consistent with, and to the extent permitted by, existing law.”

However, executive orders are not legally binding, and have no enforceable legal obligations. In fact, Section 6-609 specifically states: “This order is intended only to improve the internal management of the executive branch and is not intended to, nor does it create any right, benefit, or trust responsibility, substantive or procedural, enforceable at law or equity by a party against the United States, its agencies, its officers, or any person. This order shall not be construed to create any right to judicial review involving the compliance or noncompliance of the United States, its officers, or any other person with this order.” Thus, the order is not legislation; it merely established environmental justice as an important federal policy and prompted assessment and planning initiatives.

Likewise, President Biden’s Executive Order 14008, which amends Clinton’s previous order, states in Section 301(c): “This order is not intended to, and does not create any right or benefit, substantive or procedural, enforceable at law or in equity by any party against the United States, its departments, agencies, or entities, its officers, employees, or agents, or any other person.”

Executive orders can only go so far. Biden may vividly recall that when he was vice president, the administration’s lofty and ambitious goals yielded only so much because of the lack of environmental justice legislation. For example, Lisa Jackson, EPA’s administrator during President Obama’s first term, made environmental justice a key agency priority, and EPA developed Plan EJ 2014 to guide the agency’s achievement of environmental justice. The strategy was designed to better protect overburdened communities, to empower those communities in environmental decisionmaking, and to establish stronger partnerships with governmental entities, including tribal, state, and local governments. By encouraging all appropriate EPA programs to adopt an environmental justice initiative, the plan also worked to ensure that environmental justice was addressed throughout the agency. Plan EJ 2014 was Administrator Jackson’s guidance to agency employees regarding her expectations and priorities as their supervisor. But unfortunately, as guidance, it was not legally binding. Thus, no community-based organization could sue the Obama administration or, later, the Trump administration for compliance or noncompliance with Plan EJ 2014.

Congress in its noninvolvement in legislation in recent years needs to learn a lesson that many successful state governments have acknowledged. According to the National Conference of State Legislatures: “Deliberation is an important feature of the legislative process. It necessitates a give-and-take and an exchange of information and ideas. Deliberation provides the possibility that a number of legislators will be influenced by the discussion. . . . Deliberation as a standard is central to the very idea of a legislature.”

With respect to environmental justice at the federal level, there has been almost no deliberation, compromise, or moderation in the legislative process. Little has been done, due largely to the fact that, according to environmental justice activists and advocates, the Republican Party has been in control of Congress from time to time since Representative Lewis first introduced his environmental justice bill in 1992, and no Republican has yet introduced or cosponsored any such legislation.

Meanwhile, the Democratic Party has been unable to move proposed environmental justice legislation out of committee for decades, except for the Environmental Justice Act of 2020 introduced by Representative Raul Ruiz (D-CA). It was added to the Clean Economy Jobs and Innovation Act as its Title XI, and passed the House of Representatives on September 24, 2020. On the House floor, Representative Ruiz stated: “Let me be clear: Having clean water to drink and clean air to breathe is not a privilege for the affluent few — it is a right and common good for everyone. . . . My bill will strengthen protections for vulnerable populations, give impacted communities the ability to hold big corporations and governments accountable, and provide needed funds to mitigate and prevent future instances of environmental injustice.” H.R. 4447 was received in the Senate on October 19, 2020. Unfortunately, it will have to be reintroduced in the current Congress, and begin the legislative process anew.

Thus far, in the 117th Congress, the pattern continues for environmental justice bills to be introduced and referred to committee, where the bills most likely will die, except for congressional resolutions, because of the lack of Republican support and the narrow lead of the Democrats in the Senate.

In order for legislation to pass in the Senate, there must be 60 votes because of the filibuster. This is the device that was used effectively to block civil rights legislation half a century ago. According to Amy McKeever writing in National Geographic: “Intent on keeping the white supremacist status quo of the Jim Crow era, Southern senators formed a minority faction powerful enough to prevent cloture. They successfully filibustered several bills that would have made lynching a federal crime as well as those that would have outlawed the poll taxes that kept Black people from voting.”

Although difficult, history has shown that it is not impossible for President Biden to have Congress pass environmental justice legislation in spite of the filibuster — and the intransigence of Republicans. But he needs Senator Manchin to accomplish this feat. In an op-ed in the Charleston Gazette-Mail, Senator Manchin specifically stated: “For as long as I have the privilege of being your U.S. senator, I will fight to represent the people of West Virginia, to seek bipartisan compromise no matter how difficult, and to develop the political bonds that end divisions and help unite the country we love.” In order to truly represent the people of West Virginia, including poor white constituents living in sacrifice zones who are victims of environmental injustice, I offer the following thoughts for Senator Manchin’s consideration to secure bipartisan compromise.

Since he was elected to the Senate in 2011, the senator has not introduced or co-sponsored any environmental justice bills. Therefore, as a first step the senator should consider introducing new, or co-sponsoring existing, comprehensive environmental justice legislation. In April, he reintroduced in the current Congress his bill, Revitalizing the Economy of Coal Communities by Leveraging Local Activities and Investing More Act of 2021, with four Democrats as co-sponsors. The bill revises requirements concerning the Abandoned Mine Reclamation Fund, which would allow fund monies to be used to provide support for economic revitalization, diversification, and development in economically distressed mining communities through the reclamation and restoration of land and water resources adversely affected by abandoned coal mines. In July, the Senate Energy and Natural Resources Committee that he chairs advanced the $3 billion program to clean up abandoned hardrock mines. But environmental injustice in West Virginia is much broader than what is contemplated by this narrowly tailored bill. Unfortunately, the rural Appalachian coal region, settled by poor whites, faces a complex mix of pollution unaddressed by his legislation, from coal and gas mining, to contaminated drinking water, to air pollution from coal mining operations.

Second, Manchin should consider convincing Senator Shelley Moore Capito (R-WV), who became the ranking member of the Senate Committee on Environment and Public Works in January, to co-sponsor his environmental justice legislation. She should also be aware of the suffering of poor white people in West Virginia. Capito is a retired educator and the daughter of three-term West Virginia governor Arch Alfred Moore. Moreover, she was the representative for West Virginia’s second congressional district from 2001 until her 2014 election to the Senate. With over twenty years of service, Senator Capito is the dean of West Virginia’s congressional delegation. She and Senator Machin give West Virginia real clout over environmental issues in the Senate.

Third, Senator Manchin should consider whether he can find nine other Republicans in addition to Senator Capito to support such legislation in light of the filibuster. According to the Washington Post editorial board: “To some Senate traditionalists, this is a feature, not a bug. The Senate at its best is a crucible of compromise. The filibuster is a powerful tool senators in the minority can use to force the majority to negotiate with them. Ideally, the two parties would strike bargains on voting rights, infrastructure, climate, and other critical issues, which would make the resulting policy more broadly appealing and politically durable.” As a traditionalist, Senator Manchin must determine whether there are indeed 10 Republican senators who would support his newly proposed or co-sponsored environmental justice bill.

If, however, 10 Republicans would not support his environmental justice legislation, Senator Manchin should consider reforming the filibuster. The Post editorial, titled, “The filibuster has changed before. It’s time to reform it again,” concludes: “In today’s climate, the filibuster has become a tool more of obstruction than compromise. Once sparingly used, the filibuster in its current form imposes a de facto 60-vote threshold on almost all legislation, enabling 41 senators representing a fraction of the country’s population to routinely block all sorts of broadly popular bills with hardly the lift of a finger. The result has been policy gridlock, which is infuriating in calmer times and dangerous now.” That’s an uncontroverted fact.

Environmental justice links communities of color in urban areas and white communities in rural areas of Appalachia. Environmental justice is a unifying issue, not a divisive one. Simply amending President Clinton’s 1994 environmental justice executive order is not at all the answer. Instead, comprehensive legislation that addresses the environmental and public health problems of people living in sacrifice zones — from communities in Louisiana’s Cancer Alley fighting industrial emission to those in the hills of West Virginia fighting mining pollution to dense urban areas around the country surrounded by factories and power plants and freeways — is needed now more than ever. Indeed, silence is no longer an option. TEF

LEAD FEATURE People of color and low-income communities living in areas with extreme pollution contribute the least to these problems, but suffer the most. Nothing short of federal environmental justice legislation is needed to address these severe inequities.

The Pathway Forward for the Power Sector
Author
Roger Martella - General Electric
General Electric
Current Issue
Issue
5
Parent Article
Roger Martella

When it comes to achieving President Biden’s goal of a 50-plus percent reduction in greenhouse gas emissions by 2030, not all sectors are created equal. Although the president has not set sector targets, basic math teaches that because 50 percent is an average, some will see more ambitious targets in the upcoming decade.

Among those sectors generating higher expectations is the power sector. Observers see emissions from power easier to abate by 2030 relative to transportation, industry, and agriculture. Thus, much attention is focused on the technology, innovation, policy, and law to drive deeper decarbonization of power.

The pathway for power begins with where it’s come from. The International Energy Agency provides a starting point: in the 14 years between 2005 (the Biden baseline) and 2019, emissions from the sector declined 31 percent. To meet the president’s average goal, the sector has 19 percent to go, but expectations are to over-perform.

To achieve deeper decarbonization beyond 50 percent by 2030, three developments must align.

First, accelerating renewables is the most immediate priority, but challenges must be addressed. For example, while the next generation of offshore wind technology is ready to be installed, regulatory delays have stalled deployment. Here, the Biden administration in a short time has worked to address permit bottlenecks and approved the first full-scale offshore wind project, Vineyard Wind. But to succeed on this timeline will require more regulatory resources and streamlining. The administration, Congress, industry and stakeholder will have to work closely together to properly define tax incentives, fiscal stimulus, and tariff policies to ensure investments will lead to measurable benefits.

Second, natural gas is key to any solution. The numbers speak for themselves: between 2005 and 2019, emissions went down steeply while natural gas use doubled to 38 percent of the nation’s generation. Looking forward, the gas sector similarly can help reduce emissions by strictly controlling methane. The country can also switch from coal to natural gas, providing a baseload that serves as a force multiplier for more renewables. Under the IEA’s projections, power emission reductions will surpass 50 percent and reach 53 percent (vs. 2005) while gas grows to 42 percent of generation in 2030. Looking beyond this scenario, more switching from coal to gas can drive emissions down further, at least 65 percent, with reductions of 70-plus percent with more renewables.

Third, reducing emissions is not enough. The grid is confronting growing risks in extreme weather events, increasing demand, more variable energy, and cyber security. Modernizing the grid, including physical infrastructure and digital upgrades, to make it more resilient while reducing emissions are mutually achievable goals.

Although power can over-perform this decade, innovation is the most important element of longer-term success. Innovating breakthrough technologies such as carbon capture and sequestration, hydrogen as a fuel, and small modular nuclear reactors will be key to realizing the next tier of decarbonization goals while ensuring a resilient energy ecosystem.

At the outset, there is reason for optimism about the success of these goals regardless of legal regimes. The IEA scenario above shows the power sector realized significant reductions during an era without comprehensive regulation. This is due to innovation, corporate social responsibility initiatives, subnational regulations including renewable energy standards, and the impact of NGOs.

Having said that, well designed law and policy can bring more certainty to outcomes. With a closely divided Congress, piecemeal approaches are more likely than a comprehensive package for climate generally or power specifically. On the Hill, it will be key for Congress to create the right reforms for streamlining renewable approvals while creating financial incentives for renewables, grid improvements, and breakthrough technologies and pilot projects. These concepts warrant bipartisan support.

The Environmental Protection Agency is likely to complement this approach with a focus on emissions from new and existing coal plants and gas turbines. Regulatory efforts to focus on technology-based standards “inside the fenceline” will help avoid the legal controversies and delays of the Clean Power Plan.

There are also other policy and legislative proposals, including clean energy standards and carbon prices. These warrant study for creating ground-up solutions that can be more efficient than piecemeal approaches. While proposals differ in design and details, key to success will be technology-neutral policies that focus on achieving emission reduction goals and letting technology and innovation achieve those goals, as opposed to prejudging technologies at the outset of these paths to deep decarbonization.

Finally, the Biden administration has been right to elevate the role of environmental justice, focused on ensuring that disadvantaged and disproportionately impacted communities avoid harms and realize benefits from clean energy opportunities. The power sector should partner with the administration and local communities to consider EJ issues in the siting and permitting of energy facilities and infrastructure, as well as opportunities to develop jobs and to ensure affordable and reliable electricity for all communities.

Roger Martella is vice president, chief sustainability officer, at General Electric. The opinions are the author’s and not any employer.

A Toxic Legacy
Author
Heidi Nolte Brown
Current Issue
Issue
5
A Toxic Legacy

It has been decades since four workers engulfed in flames fled the Greenwood Chemical Plant after highly volatile vapors exploded and caused a flash fire that closed the plant, revealing a toxic waste dump that landed the site on the federal government’s Superfund list. But officials overseeing the cleanup of the worst chemical disaster in Albemarle County, Virginia, say most of the 33-acre property is cleared of contaminants and ready for use. Overcoming the stigma associated with a Superfund site is quite another challenge.

The tiny Greenwood Chemical Company, sitting on a steeply sloped, wooded parcel at the foot of Afton Mountain, employed no more than a dozen workers and made chemicals used in industrial, agricultural, pharmaceutical, and photographic processes. Less than a mile from Pollak Vineyard on Newtown Road, it’s only a few hundred yards from a scenic overlook on Interstate 64 with breath-taking views of the Blue Ridge Mountains and Rockfish Gap Valley.

“I would love to see it put to use,” said Michelle Payne of the Virginia Department of Environmental Quality, which took charge of the Greenwood cleanup from U.S. EPA in 2012. “The county isn’t receiving any tax money from anyone for the property. It’s just kind of sitting there.”

Eric Newman, EPA’s remedial project manager for Greenwood for the past 15 years, headed up a five-year review of the site. The 30-page report, with input from the Virginia Department of Health and DEQ, was issued in 2018. He agrees with Payne about the potential use of the property.

“Over the last five years, the most important finding is that the site remains protected,” Newman said. “We have success that the property is safe for all of the uses — as far as agricultural, recreational, and industrial — that was part of the risk assessment.” The property is usable again, but with limitations. Those would include not using the water on site for cooking or drinking; no residential use of the property; not interfering with a pump and groundwater treatment system; and making sure any habitable buildings constructed within 100 feet of contaminated groundwater have a foundation vapor barrier.

The plant was founded in 1947 by DuPont chemist F.O. “Neil” Cockerille, who once blew off part of his leg while working on an explosive used to detonate car air bags. He sold the plant in 1967 and it became known as Greenwood Chemical.

The plant had a history of problems long before the fatal 1985 explosion that shut it down. Volunteer firefighters from nearby Crozet regularly responded to explosions and fires at Greenwood Chemical, and there were other fatalities at the plant. It was to blame for contaminating the water of a tributary of Stockton Creek in the 1970s, leading to several fish kills and dead cattle at an adjacent farm.

“We had been up there multiple times in years past for explosions,” said Preston Gentry, former chief of the Crozet Volunteer Fire Department. “Anytime you went up to that place you always feared for your safety. You never knew what you were going to expect up there.”

Janet Sims used to live next door to the chemical plant on Summerest Lane in the historically Black neighborhood of Newtown. One winter, she and her young son hiked onto plant property in search of a Christmas tree. They got more than they bargained for. “We go to the back of the plant and we could smell a bad odor before we even got there,” she said. “We put our shirts over top our faces and when we got back there, we could see this still water, bluish green, with big mice and dead animals in it.”

But it wasn’t on the federal radar until 1985, when a spark ignited a vat of toluene vapors, a highly flammable industrial cleaning solvent. Fire officials said the blast was caused by electrical equipment that lacked state-required safety devices.

Sims remembers “walking to the bus stop to get my son off the bus and I had gotten halfway to the stop when I heard this explosion. I could see smoke at the chemical plant . . . and the men were running out of the chemical plant and screaming and hollering. When they got up the road about halfway, I see some of the men’s clothes looked like it had melted or something. I went to my sister’s house to call someone.”

Sims said a woman who worked for the rescue squad happened to be visiting her sister and she instructed them on what to do. “She said bring whatever water we can,” Sims recounted. “The men were almost at the top of the road and she told us to set them down and wrap them in sheets, and cut off anything that was stuck on them. . . . Those poor men, the clothes had melted into their skin. It was so bad.”

The four plant workers were identified as Charles Ward Jr., 31, of Staunton; John Harper, 34, of Afton; Maurrie Clark, also of Afton, 31; and Keith Woods, age unknown, of Waynesboro. All but one of the workers died within hours of the blast. Ward, who was burned over 80 percent of his body, lingered for 11 days at Norfolk Medical Center Hospitals, where he was transported from the University Hospital in Charlottesville. They left behind four wives and nine children.

The accident shed light on a host of environmental catastrophes at the site. For decades it had been the burial ground of nearly 600 leaking chemical drums and cylinders. Seven unlined lagoons were filled with toxic waste, including cancer-causing trichloroethylene. The drums contained benzene, cyanide, arsenic, phosphene, and hydrogen chloride, among others, all known to cause a variety of ailments such as cancer, liver and kidney damage, birth defects, and spontaneous abortion.

In 1987, EPA placed Greenwood Chemical on the Superfund National Priorities List, where it remains to this day. It is one of 1,185 Superfund sites across the nation and 31 in Virginia. EPA excavated 15,000 tons of soil and sludge, incinerating some on site and hauling the rest away to facilities as far away as Arkansas. The former lagoons and excavated areas were backfilled with two feet of clean soil. But they couldn’t dig deep enough.

Although most of the land has been cleaned, the DEQ’s Payne and Newman of the EPA concur that a two-acre area where the lagoons were and the manufacturing activities occurred still remains a problem. The chemicals seeped so far down into the deep soil and bedrock that they contaminated the groundwater in that section.

It was too far below the surface for excavation, so EPA built a water treatment plant in 2002 to deal with any remaining contamination in the ground. The agency drilled 11 containment wells, some as deep as 150 feet. “They are pumping daily to contain and eliminate any contaminants that may exist,” said Ignatius Mutoti, who’s in charge of day-to-day operations. “We bring it into this building. This is where the technology and equipment are for dealing with the contaminants that exist.”

His company, Retaw Engineering of Richmond, has a contract with the state to run the treatment plant. “We are the boots on the ground,” he said.

Mutoti, who is trained as a chemist with a doctorate in environmental engineering, makes the trip to Greenwood from Richmond every day. He is one of two employees who make sure the pumps are continuously drawing water from the containment wells 24 hours a day, seven days a week, all year long. If there ever is an issue, such as a power outage, Mutoti is alerted immediately via computer and cell phone.

The water is pH-balanced, chemically treated, and run through tanks containing granular activated carbon, “the workhorse of the operation,” he said on a recent tour of the plant. It’s then released back into the environment. They are confident the system, which is designed to treat up to 50 gallons per minute, is doing its job, keeping the contaminated groundwater from escaping the property and seeping into the wells of nearby residents.

“The goal is to have this water meet drinking water standards,” Mutoti said. “We test that the water is as good as the water coming from a faucet in your house. Maybe even better.”

Albemarle County assessed the land and the treatment plant at a high of $70,500 in 2012. But that was reduced to $100 in 2015 by the incoming tax assessor. “There’s no market value to this property,” said Peter J. Lynch, Albemarle County tax assessor. “It’s a Superfund site. I can’t attest to who the legal owner is. All we know is that it’s in our records as Greenwood Chemical Company. No one has taken any responsibility for it.”

The tax bill is currently 84 cents per year, down from $537.22 in 2012. But no matter what the amount, no one has been paying taxes since 1999. The property is $11,105.90 in arrears. Although the owner is still listed as Greenwood Chemical, the company was dissolved in June 2008, and the last living board member, Albert Cereghino Jr., died a few months later. His son and executor of his estate, Albert Cereghino III, has disavowed any connection to the chemical company or the land.

“Technically it’s owned by the company that’s been dissolved,” said Rocio Lamb, chief of Revenue Administration for Albemarle County. “We can only sell the property for tax purposes, but we can’t take ownership of the property because they haven’t paid taxes. It doesn’t work like that.”

Also complicating the matter is a $42 million lien EPA put on the property in 1997, the estimated cost of the cleanup between 1985 and 1997. In the 20 years since then, Newman said, the cost has risen to $52 million. He said EPA has collected a total of $6.5 million, which includes nearly $4 million in settlements from “various responsible parties.” The rest of it is the state’s cost share. The state has been paying $500,000 each year to maintain and operate the plant since taking it over from the EPA in 2012. “We don’t use these liens as bludgeons to prevent possible reuse,” Newman said. “If the property is worth say $500,000 and someone is willing to use this property in an economically viable way within the land use restrictions, we wouldn’t stand in the way.

“If someone took action to put a housing development on that property, we would object. But if they came in with a proposal to put in solar panels, that would be perfectly legitimate. The EPA will look at the broad picture and determine what is in the best interest to the citizens and that is how we will act.”

The federal agency sought to recoup some of the cost for the cleanup from those responsible for the problems. The government filed a civil suit in U.S. District Court against four defendants: Greenwood Chemical Co., its president Cereghino, High Point Chemical Corporation, which supplied Greenwood with equipment and capital in exchange for developing chemicals, and High Point’s president, Clarence Hustrulid, who also ran Greenwood Chemical before Cereghino.

According to the Federal Register, the parties reached settlements in 1999 and 2000. High Point agreed to pay $4 million to settle claims against it; Hustrulid and Cereghino each had to pay $100,000, and Greenwood Chemical Co. was liable for $1,000.

Separately, the widows of the four workers killed filed lawsuits against the company as well as the Virginia Department of Labor and Industry, which enforces federal worker safety standards. In 1988, they were awarded a combined $110,000, out of which they still had to pay legal fees. The $100,000 amount was the maximum allowable under the company’s insurance policy. Greenwood added $10,000 itself to the settlement, according to a report in the Charlottesville Daily Progress at the time. The women were thwarted in their attempt for a larger judgment by existing state law on workers compensation, which restricts the rights of workers and their families to sue their employer.

The Virginia Department of Health has been monitoring the well water of nearby residents since the 1985 explosion. Mount Zion Baptist Church on the west side of the property, and Newtown Community Center across the street, also were analyzed. Currently, the state only tests the well water of those nearby residents who ask for it each year.

The results of annual samples of 11 such wells were analyzed by the Health Department’s Division of Environmental Epidemiology as part of the five-year review.

“Our take home message is that we didn’t find anything that would affect anyone at this time,” said Dwight Flammia, the DEE’s public health toxicologist. He co-authored the report with Amy Hayes, health assessor, determining how the levels of contaminants detected in the residents’ well water compared to acceptable standards.

“The current value for all of the drinking water tested are well below the groundwater performances standard,” Hayes said. Flammia added, “It’s more protective than what you would get while drinking regular tap water, which has very protected health values.”

According to the report, only one well, identified as RW3 (residential well #3), “had detectable concentrations of six contaminants in 2013, including one, bis(chloroethyl) ether, that exceeded” groundwater standards. The Health Department said that was the only instance in the past five years of testing and should not be a cause for concern. “Once you consider how much water a person drinks and how long they are in the area,” it’s a very small risk, Flammia said.

But that isn’t much consolation to those who grew up around the plant. Some blame their health issues over the years on living next to such a toxic neighbor. Sims believes it wasn’t just the drinking water that was suspect. She has been suffering respiratory problems for years. “I still am dealing with health issues off and on,” she said.

In 1992 Sims was diagnosed with sarcoidosis, “a chronic disorder of unknown origins.” It affected her lungs and resulted in a lung transplant in March 2003. She moved from her family’s Newtown home to Ivy, to be closer to the hospital for treatment. “Then in August 2003, I started spitting up blood a lot and they found that my other lung was damaged really bad and they had to remove that as well,” she said.

Five of Sims’ six siblings grew up down the street from the chemical plant. “It was like we all that lived in that house, we all had some kind of problem,” she said. A brother, Elgie Sims Jr., died in 2013 at the age of 60. “He had bone cancer. He had to have a bone marrow transplant. But it didn’t work for him at all. I think a whole lot of it had to do with that chemical plant. So many people in that community was passing away well before me with breathing problems and cancer,” she said.

Despite EPA’s assurances that their drinking water was safe during the years of cleanup, Sims and her extended family never wanted to take any chances. They used bottled water for years, from the time of the explosion until the day they sold the family home in 2005. Sims died in 2019 at the age of 72.

Federal and state agencies expect to be working on the Greenwood Chemical plant cleanup for quite some time. “I think it will always be a Superfund site,” Newman said. “The way [the remedial plan] is set up, as of today with no changes made, it would be in perpetuity,” Payne said.

But regulators emphasize that the property is ready for re-use and encourage anyone interested in using it to contact them. No additional cleanup work needs to be done with the land, according to Payne. She said given the slope of the land, it probably wouldn’t be conducive to a soccer park, but certainly hiking or biking. She said there’s plenty of bamboo that could be harvested and repurposed. “There is nothing dangerous on the site for humans to be on there. The groundwater is the problem. The surface is fine.”

Mutoti, who works at the property every day, envisions a golf course. “Or we could just leave some space for the animals,” he said. “We are making progress. “This is goal driven. And we are meeting certain goals. But making sure everyone is comfortable is another thing. We have to remove the stigma related to contamination.”

———

This article was originally published in September 2018 in the Crozet Gazette, a community newspaper in rural central Virginia. According to officials from EPA Region 3 and the Virginia Department of Environmental Quality, ongoing remediation as described in the article continues to successfully capture groundwater pollution to date. Although there was an attempt in 2018 to repurpose the site, according to DEQ the acreage remains unused.

Newtown, the historically Black neighborhood adjacent to the Greenwood Chemical site, is an example of the impact facilities and their waste legacies can have on communities of color and low-income communities. —Ed.

TESTIMONY Most of a 33-acre property in a historically Black neighborhood in rural Virginia is cleared of contaminants caused by a defunct chemical company and is ready for use. Overcoming the stigma associated with a Superfund site is quite another challenge.

Communities Tackle Energy Injustice
Author
Herb Stevens - New Partners Community Solar
New Partners Community Solar
Current Issue
Issue
5
Parent Article

Every day, we use the sun’s energy to power our lives — in this way, the sun is every human’s birthright. So when we seek energy justice we do so because this essential resource should be shared among all persons. I formed the nonprofit New Partners Community Solar with my partner at the law firm Nixon Peabody, Jeff Lesk, to address energy injustice. Our mission is to find new ways to bring solar energy access equitably to entire communities.

We discovered that a powerful way to achieve these goals is through a new law in the District of Columbia allowing for “community solar.” It in turn is based on a program in Colorado that allows homeowners to share energy in their neighborhoods. D.C.’s law and our program utilitizing it converts the western state’s program to an urban setting.

Our new model helps large commercial building owners in D.C. deliver the financial benefits of their rooftop solar energy to low-income families across town. By requiring the electric utility to convert the power going into the grid to cash, the money can be distributed to residents through credits on their electric bills.

This leap is a big one — the families sharing the financial benefits of solar do not need to own their own homes; they can be renters or condo owners and still see a financial benefit each month. Instead of restricting the benefits of solar energy only to those individuals and businesses that own property, the solar panels can be placed anywhere in the utility grid and serve all people.

The community also gets the benefit of more renewable energy, which reduces dangerous pollution and fights climate change, and unused roof space is turned into sites for green jobs that employ people in the local neighborhood.

Although 19 states and D.C. have recognized the benefits of community solar by encouraging its growth through policy and programs, most have not. As a first step to achieve energy justice, all states should enact robust community solar programs with true access for all built into the law.

Each state should also require its utility regulator to remove the electric grid barriers to distrib-uted solar energy production. We have so many places in urban or rural areas that solar could be put — such as office rooftops, churches, schools, and apartments — but putting solar in these new places exposes the deficiencies of an older electricity system, which does not always allow distributed power to feed into the grid. Removing these barriers not only improves infrastructure resilience but also helps provide more equal access to solar in our communities.

States will need to create more balanced incentive programs. Right now, the federal tax credit and the value contained in solar carbon credits are only available to people and businesses that can own solar panels. This shuts out access to renters and people of low income.

We are not treating the sun’s energy as a basic human right when we make low-income families pay a disproportionate amount for their energy. Energy for a low-income family can be three times the burden compared to a wealthier family in America, when considering the proportion utility bills takes up in their monthly budgets.

States can use different incentives to address this disparity, as well as the lack of access to capital to build or buy solar systems. The District of Columbia, for instance, uses penalty payments each year for utilities that do not meet the renewable energy standard for solar and uses these payments to subsidize a “Solar for All” program.

Years ago, at a seminar, I saw a map of my city that showed dots where all the solar installations were. Then laid over it, they showed the income levels throughout the city. One person in the audience spontaneously shouted out, “It looks like the sun shines only on the rich.” Let us work to change that.

We’d love to hear your ideas and get your support on this important mission. Email our executive director, Sasha Srivastava, at engage@npsolar.org.

Energy Transition an Equity Opportunity
Author
Yesenia Rivera - Solar United Neighbors
Solar United Neighbors
Current Issue
Issue
5
Parent Article

Our energy system is changing. This transition presents a tremendous opportunity to build in democracy, justice, and equity. Distributed solar energy like rooftop and community solar is uniquely able to repair the harms caused by our current fossil-fuel-dependent model.

A transition to solar, if done correctly, can also create an equitable economic recovery. It can lower the energy burden for low-income families, and it can expand who participates in the emerging renewable-based energy system.

The cost of fossil-fuel-based energy is increasing. These costs fall hardest on low- to moderate-income families. An under-resourced family can spend as much as 30 percent of its income on electricity. The federal government spends billions on energy assistance programs. These programs provide support on a year-to-year basis. Currently, they only serve less than a fifth of the eligible population. Distributed solar provides a more sustainable solution to reducing and controlling energy costs on an ongoing basis. Unfortunately, financial barriers keep too many families from benefiting from solar ownership.

The federal government should increase funding to energy assistance programs to enable the people who most need help with energy bills to invest in solar. Adding support to build solar would also create long-term integrity and solvency for these programs. Both the Department of Health and Human Services’ low-income home energy assistance program and the Department of Energy’s weatherization assistance program can cover the cost of solar installations. These programs and others can easily be adapted to address the financial barriers keeping families from benefiting from solar.

Cost is not the only barrier to a just transition to solar. Homeownership status is a barrier as well. More than 30 percent of U.S. households are renters. Even when families own their homes, their roofs may not always be suitable for solar. This is especially true if they live in multi-family buildings and condominiums.

Community solar can help all families access the benefits of solar energy, but legal and financial barriers remain. These barriers are high for locally owned community solar projects and projects that serve low- and moderate-income communities.

The federal government can help address this barrier by amending the Public Utilities Regulatory Policies Act. It should require state-regulated utilities and non-regulated electric utilities to develop equitable community solar programs. The Department of Energy should also create a new program to provide loans and loan guarantees for equitable community solar projects.

By addressing the policy and financial barriers to community solar, we can ensure that all households can access the benefits of solar, regardless of homeownership or financial status.

For the transition to solar to be a just and equitable one, we must address all the barriers preventing millions of households from going solar. Cost and homeownership are just two of the barriers keeping us from achieving solar justice. We must also address the lack of information and education surrounding solar energy, the policy barriers suppressing deployment, and the need for access to solar jobs for marginalized communities.

While there are barriers that states can address, the federal government already has the templates and programs that can be modified to dismantle the systemic barriers keeping low- and moderate-income families and environmental justice communities from achieving solar equity. The federal government can significantly reduce the upfront cost to solar transition, streamline solar deployment, and reduce unnecessary barriers.

We must address the harms caused by our current energy system and ensure that marginalized communities and environmental justice communities finally benefit from the transition to clean energy. An investment in solar power can help in the economic recovery and lift millions of families in the process.

Building Solar Justice
Author
Philip Warburg - Boston University's Institute for Sustainable Energy
Boston University's Institute for Sustainable Energy
Current Issue
Issue
5
Building Solar Justice

We are living in a time of rage about forgotten and neglected segments of American society. That rage has been directed at police brutality targeting African Americans. It has focused attention on the higher Covid-19 death rates and slower access to vaccination among people of color. And it has surfaced a panoply of economic injustices that stand in the way of lower-income Americans meeting basic needs with the limited resources at their disposal. Unequal access to clean, affordable energy is one of those injustices.

On the campaign trail and now in the White House, President Biden has signaled his determination to make environmental justice a centerpiece of building a more robust, sustainable energy economy. Breaking through the barriers that have slowed the adoption of solar power by low-income households and communities of color needs to be part of that agenda.

A key messenger of the Biden administration’s commitment to greater energy equality is Shalanda H. Baker, recently appointed deputy director for energy justice at the Department of Energy. A law professor on leave from Northeastern University, Baker recently published a manifesto called “Revolutionary Power: An Activist’s Guide to the Energy Transition.” In it, she decries “climate change fundamentalism,” a tendency among mainstream — predominantly white — environmental leaders to focus on maximizing the shift to non-carbon fuels while ignoring the deep inequities embedded in many proposed reforms. Revolutionary power, as she sees it, is “an approach that centers the voices, hopes, and dreams of the poor, people of color, Indigenous people, and those marginalized by the old energy system in the redesign of the new system.”

One of the more powerful, though lopsided, policy reforms of the solar era is the federal Investment Tax Credit. Since the ITC was adopted in 2006, the solar industry has grown by an average of 52 percent per year, in no small part due to the economic boost that the tax credit has catalyzed. While the American Recovery and Reinvestment Act of 2009 allowed the tax credit — then set at 30 percent — to be converted to a grant for certain businesses, Congress stopped funding the grants program in 2011. Since then, the ITC has been the exclusive domain of homeowners and businesses with sufficient tax liability to take advantage of the credit. Non-profit organizations and the low-income communities they serve have been outside that loop of federal largess.

While the federal government has done little to strengthen solar access by low-income households and minority populations, the spirit of inclusion has found its voice elsewhere — in states and cities large and small, in community organizations seeking energy justice, and in civic-minded entrepreneurs using a variety of policy and financing tools to give racially and ethnically diverse, low-income Americans a stake in our clean energy future.

California was an early pioneer in breaking the income barrier for solar ownership. In 2006, the California Assembly ordered that at least 10 percent of the $2.2 billion ratepayer-funded California Solar Initiative be dedicated to bringing the benefits of solar energy to low-income households. Three years later, the Single-Family Affordable Solar Homes (SASH) program was launched, with a budget of $108 million to be spent on up-front support for solar arrays installed on homes with household earnings no higher than 80 percent of the area median income. Small, one-kilowatt photovoltaic, or PV, arrays were fully subsidized under SASH for the lowest-income households; others received partial support for higher-capacity systems. Foundation grants and donated equipment helped close the funding gap for these larger installations.

Grid Alternatives, the non-profit hired to administer SASH, has done much more than facilitate the adoption of solar power by low-income households. Though it relies heavily on short-term volunteers to assist with PV installations, it has also made workforce development a priority, partnering with job training programs that work with re-entry populations and at-risk young adults. Job trainees have logged in nearly a quarter of the 84,000 workdays at SASH installation sites.

By 2015, GRID Alternatives had installed 4,500 PV arrays. That same year the California Public Utilities Commission allocated another $52 million to SASH and authorized a form of third-party ownership that stretches the available funds to a greater number of households. Under this model, homeowners do not own the PV on their rooftops, but they receive bill credit for all the solar electricity. Sunrun, a leading solar installer, is the third-party owner of these systems. Along with being compensated by SASH for the free solar electricity that customers receive, Sunrun earns Solar Renewable Energy Certificates attributable to the solar power. As a for-profit company, it also qualifies for the federal Investment Tax Credit.

As of July 2020, cumulative SASH installations had reached 9,200 low-income households — a doubling of the program’s impact since 2015. But as most of the solar arrays installed by SASH since 2015 are owned by Sunrun, this success has come at a price. To solar advocates who see ownership as fundamental to advancing energy justice, this new brand of SASH participation falls short of the imperative to build new wealth in low-income communities, along with easing household energy burdens.

Lower rates of solar adoption in low-to-moderate income communities have been well documented in recent years. Wide disparities in solar deployment have also been found between predominantly white communities and those with Black and Hispanic majorities, even after correcting for lower rates of home ownership in the latter. Further afflicting communities of color is the higher level of exposure to environmental harms caused by polluting factories, abandoned brownfield sites, adjacent highways, and deteriorated housing with hazards such as lead, mold, and asbestos.

To narrow these racial, ethnic and economic gaps, a number of states have begun to focus their solar outreach efforts on underserved areas variously defined as environmental justice or, in California’s case, “disadvantaged” communities. In 2018, the California Public Utilities Commission adopted a slate of new programs to provide these communities with easier access to renewable energy. One of them is the Disadvantaged Communities–Single-family Solar Homes program, known as DAC-SASH. It too is run by GRID Alternatives using a data resource called CalEnviroScreen to locate census tracts bearing the state’s heaviest environmental burdens that are also afflicted by poverty, high rates of unemployment, low educational attainment, and linguistic isolation.

Operating within these census tracts, GRID Alternatives has faced costly hurdles in identifying low-income homeowners who are ready to make the leap to photovoltaics. “For many communities of color in California, solar is not number one on people’s wish list,” says Danny Hom, a member of GRID Alternatives’ strategy team. “It is regarded as something for the richer and whiter communities.”

Financially strapped homeowners are wary of being preyed upon by purveyors of home improvement products and services that sound better than they may turn out to be. Moreover, at a time when the Covid-19 pandemic has taken a particularly heavy toll on household budgets, many recoil from the prospect of spending money to repair an outmoded electrical system or an aging roof before solar can be safely installed.

While 35 percent of low-income Californians own their homes, the rest are renters who must rely on their landlords to tap solar on their properties. Even if landlords do so, there is no guarantee that the benefits will trickle down to tenants. The Solar on Multifamily Affordable Housing program seeks to address this problem, focusing, like DAC-SASH, on disadvantaged communities. Funded by up to $100 million per year in greenhouse gas allowance payments from the state’s investor-owned utilities, SOMAH offers up-front incentives to multi-family building owners who install photovoltaic arrays, provided that tenants receive at least 51 percent of the generated power as credits on their electric bills.

Across the continent, the District of Columbia has made its own strides toward solar democracy. In 2017, it launched a Solar for All program that set a target of supplying the benefits of solar power to 100,000 low-income households by 2032. Under the terms of this program, income-qualified households can expect at least a 50 percent reduction in their pre-solar electric bills. Funding is generated by alternative compliance payments made by the local utility, PEPCO, to comply with one of the nation’s most ambitious renewable portfolio standards, which requires that 50 percent of the District’s retail electricity come from qualifying renewable sources by 2032.

In Solar for All’s pilot phase, the D.C. Department of Energy and Environment made a number of grants to field-test a range of approaches to expanding low-income solar access. Single-family homes have been one target, with cost-free PV installations being offered to participating households.

Solar United Neighbors, a local non-profit, was one of two organizations focused on single-family homes during the pilot phase. SUN’s recruitment efforts demanded an intensive commitment of staff resources to community meetings and follow-up with potentially interested homeowners.

“For eighteen months we were out in the community every week — several times a week sometimes. We went to civic association meetings, Advisory Neighborhood Commission meetings, all the way down to districts inside of every ward,” recalls Yesenia Rivera, SUN’s director of energy equity and inclusion. Senior citizens were particularly interested in Solar for All’s offering. “It’s an easy way for seniors to age in place and reduce some of the burden because they’re on a fixed income. Everything else keeps going up, but this lets you control your electric bill.”

There were obstacles, however, to bringing single-family households in from the cold. Before solar could be effectively deployed, funds were often needed to make electrical upgrades, roof repairs, and other structural improvements. SUN had limited success in securing funds from home energy conservation programs such as the federally supported Weatherization Assistance Program. In all, SUN landed solar arrays for 73 single-family homes — a small number, but Rivera says that it is “a pathway to prosperity” for the participating families.

Beyond the painstaking work involved in placing solar on single-family homes, Solar for All faces a numerical challenge as it works toward the District’s 100,000-solar-household goal: fewer than 92,000 households in the District pay their own electric bills; the rest live in master-metered public housing. It was clear that the program’s implementers would have to come up with alternative ways to pass along solar benefits to these households.

The National Housing Trust, a nationwide non-profit with a strong D.C. presence, took up this challenge. In the first two years of Solar for All, NHT installed solar on 14 of the housing projects it owns and operates in the District, serving 761 low-income households. “The idea is that the program should be cost-neutral to the property owner,” reports Andrew Martin, asset manager at NHT. “Any savings realized in lower energy bills go toward providing direct services to residents or upgrades to common spaces at the property.” These have included community meals and groceries for residents, rent relief to families affected by Covid-19, free Metro cards and other means of transportation, improved security, fitness classes, and intergenerational art classes.

Free subscriptions to community solar projects are another vehicle being used to reach low-income D.C. residents through Solar for All. Unlike Illinois and Minnesota, where a number of shared solar facilities have been built on open farmland many miles from the subscribers they serve, there is little open land that can be deployed for solar in the District of Columbia. Instead, churches and commercial buildings are typical hosts of community solar projects.

One of these projects draws solar power from a 43-kilowatt rooftop array and a 125-kilowatt solar canopy at the Dupont Park Seventh Day Adventist Church in Southeast D.C.’s Ward 7 neighborhood. The project’s developer, a non-profit called Groundswell, channels 100 percent of the electricity from these installations to 48 low-income families, using funds from Solar for All. Savings per family are estimated at $500 per year — about half the average annual household bill for electricity, says Emily Robichaux, Groundswell’s chief financial officer. At three of the projects Groundswell has developed in D.C., a fourth-generation, minority-owned local business has taken the lead on construction.

Speaking to the value of siting projects like this in the communities they serve, Robichaux says: “We have this abundant renewable resource at our fingertips. How can we make it something that drives economic development in communities that have been excluded from the clean energy sector?”

Solar for All initially provided full grant funding for community solar projects like those developed by Groundswell, but now these projects receive an incentive per installed watt that falls short of covering costs. Robichaux notes that the feasibility of these projects therefore hinges on third-party financing by for-profit investors with tax liability sufficient to draw on the federal tax credit. The tax credit has already dropped from 30 percent to 26 percent and, by 2024, it will have phased down to 10 percent for commercial solar installations and zero for residential systems. Robichaux argues that it should be maintained at its current level and should be convertible to a grant for non-profit solar developers like Groundswell as well as individuals with little or no taxable income, like many low- and moderate-income households.

A few years into its effort to bring the benefits of solar power to D.C.’s low-income community, Solar for All has begun to move the needle toward its 100,000 household goal. Not surprisingly, progress toward delivering solar to single-family residences has been slow, with only 382 home solar systems installed by the program as of March 2020. Recruiting participants house by house has been painstaking; less than complete funding for installations has dampened homeowner interest in the program; and the difficulty of pairing solar investments with necessary building repairs and energy conservation measures has highlighted the need for stronger inter-program coordination and substantially greater government support.

Much more promising are the projects that have delivered solar benefits at scale. Free subscriptions to community solar projects have reached over 6,000 households while another 5,600 residents of public housing equipped with solar arrays have benefited from a range of in-kind services offered by their building managers. To meet the 2032 goal, all these approaches will need to step up in the years ahead.

My home state of Massachusetts now gets over 18 percent of its electric power from the sun — a dramatic jump above solar’s tepid 2.3 percent share of electricity generation nationwide. The Solar Energy Industries Association estimates that solar power generated in the Bay State is sufficient to meet the needs of more than half a million households. What that number doesn’t reveal is how few low-income families benefit from PV on their homes.

“Exploring Equity in Residential Solar,” a study conducted by Synapse in 2019, found that there were 13 residential solar installations per 1,000 Massachusetts households with incomes below $75,000 — the statewide median income. In the $75,000 to $240,000 income range, solar installations were nearly three times more common. Disparities in disposable income are clearly a major contributor to this discrepancy, but tax incentives have widened the solar access gap. Both the federal tax credit for renewable energy investments and a 15 percent state investment tax credit are beyond the reach of most low-to-moderate income households.

The Solar Massachusetts Renewable Target program, adopted in 2018, counters at least some of the forces working against low-income solar. SMART is a tariff-based system that sets a fixed price per kilowatt-hour for the output of new solar installations, extending over 20 years. The tariff more than doubles for small PV arrays serving low-income households. Community solar projects with at least 50 percent low-income subscribers also qualify for a low-income escalator, as do property owners where all the solar electricity is credited to low-income housing.

Ben Underwood is the co-founder and co-CEO of Resonant Energy. Though it is a for-profit company, Resonant is a certified B Corp with a mission, as Underwood describes it, “to fundamentally change how the profits of the solar industry are distributed and whom they benefit.” Over the past four years, Resonant has installed more than 3.5 megawatts of solar power on affordable housing, individual homes, and houses of worship.

One of Resonant’s recently completed projects is a community solar installation at Temple Emunah in Lexington, a Boston suburb. Resonant’s team arranged for half the power generated by the synagogue’s solar parking canopies to reduce the electric bills of low-income customers in the same utility service area; the other half will offset Temple Emunah’s power consumption. Underwood and his colleagues identified a clean energy investor willing to finance the project, Cambridge-based Sunwealth. With 50 percent of the power going to low-income subscribers, the project qualifies for an elevated low-income tariff under SMART, making it both profitable for Sunwealth and a socially responsible investment.

Allan Telio is senior vice president at Nexamp, another Boston-based solar company that works on community solar projects in Massachusetts and several other states. Making these projects more accessible to low-income subscribers is one of his big concerns. Rather than having a single 50 percent threshold for SMART’s low-income community solar tariff, he suggests that the incentive for bringing in low-income subscribers should be proportional to the percentage of low-income subscribers that a developer enrolls in a project. “Companies that are more efficient at handling low-income customers would be rewarded by additional incentives. They would be compensated for the extra effort that they are putting in, and they would be able to reap more benefits by spending more time and focus in this area.”

Telio also favors making proof of low-income status less onerous and intrusive. “The hoops people are asked to jump through to prove that they are poor is a deterrent to the ability of these programs to be successful,” he warns. Demanding tax returns, Social Security numbers, and other personal information only heightens the suspicions of people who are already wary of outsiders coming into their communities to market their wares.

Along with his call for “100 percent carbon-pollution-free power” by 2035, President Biden has declared his commitment to giving underserved communities a stake in America’s clean energy future. There are several concrete steps his administration should take to deliver on this ambition.

Reshaping and revitalizing the now-fading renewable energy Investment Tax Credit is a top priority. By 2024, the ITC’s sunset will be nearly complete, with only a 10 percent tax credit still applicable to commercial and utility-scale solar installations and nothing available to homeowners. In addition to restoring the full tax credit and extending it for ten years, the credit should be convertible to an up-front grant for those who need it most: low-to-moderate income households and the non-profit organizations serving them.

Federal resources must also be freed up to prepare older homes for solar installation. To date, only a few jurisdictions have pried loose funds for roof repairs and electrical system upgrades from the Low-Income Home Energy Assistance Program and Weatherization Assistance Program. Earmarked funding for these outlays is essential, ensuring that the necessary resources do not encroach on existing functions of energy assistance programs.

To make solar power more broadly affordable, there needs to be better coordination among the federal agencies serving the energy, employment, economic development, and housing needs of environmental justice communities. The current fragmentation of these programs is itself a deterrent to energy justice.

If cost-effectiveness is defined as the ability to deliver the largest number of solar electrons to the grid at the lowest cost, utility-scale solar on open land is the hands-down winner. But equalizing access to energy ownership and energy security has its own social value. We need to bring that value to the households and communities that have been the primary victims of environmental neglect and racial discrimination.

California, the District of Columbia, and Massachusetts are just a few of the jurisdictions that have begun to venture down this path. They and others are worthy partners to the Biden administration as it delivers on its commitment to clean energy and environmental justice. TEF

COVER STORY “We have this abundant renewable resource at our fingertips. How can we make it something that drives economic development in communities that have been excluded from the clean energy sector?”

Reimagining the Future
Author
John Pendergrass - Environmental Law Institute
LeRoy Paddock - George Washington University Law School
Environmental Law Institute
George Washington University Law School
Current Issue
Issue
4
Reimagining the Future

WE ARE now into our second half-century of environmental and natural resources law. President Nixon signed the National Environmental Policy Act on New Year’s Day 1970, making it a convenient marker for the birth of modern environmental protection. NEPA has been called the Magna Carta of environmental law, and it heralded a new era of federal legislation, including the Clean Air Act later that year and a whole roster of laws to follow. The federal acts, along with complementary state environmental statutes, have substantially reduced pollution, resulting in cleaner air, water, and soils. And species like the brown pelican and bald eagle have been brought back from the brink.

While critical progress has been made, significant gaps in environmental laws remain if the country is to achieve a more sustainable economy. Understanding that, the authors of this article convened a diverse group of leading environmental law experts to consider how the field might need to evolve to meet current challenges and those expected over the next decades. We characterize this effort as “Reimagining Environmental Law.” In many ways, it means as well reimagining the future.

Toward that end, ELI and George Washington University Law School convened two dialogues, first at the Wingspread Conference Center in Racine, Wisconsin, in March 2019, and second at Airlie House Conference Center in Warrenton, Virginia, in November 2019. Both centers have been settings for environmental conferences for decades, with Airlie House hosting a conference in September 1969 that recommended the creation of ELI. (Information about the meetings and the attendees can be found at https://www.eli.org/environmental-governance/reimagining-environmental-law.) This article reflects the discussions at Wingspread and Airlie House, subsequent discussions with participants, and research conducted by ELI and GW Law.

In consultation with our experts, the authors concluded that among the key challenges remaining for environmental law are climate change and decarbonization, nonpoint sources of pollution, materials conservation and reuse, and ecosystem degradation and biodiversity loss. In addition, environmental justice presents both an area of needed focus alone as well as attention in cutting across all the other challenges.

The climate change problem is well-known and well-documented. The participants saw the major challenge for environmental law as finding a way to support dramatic decarbonization of the economy to avoid potentially catastrophic impact of warming and supporting needed adaptation to change. While the pathways for a transition to a low-carbon economy are known, reaching the goal of 80 percent emissions reduction by 2050 will require legal changes at all levels of government, as well as accompanying economic, political, and social changes.

Essential to the transformation needed is an economy-wide price on carbon to provide the economic incentives to make the shifts necessary to reach zero emissions. This means imposing a direct cost on each ton of greenhouse gas emitted. To accomplish this, policymakers must create a system at the national level to achieve the necessary economy-wide shifts. The participants did not express a clear preference for a tax or a trading system that caps emissions from GHG sources, though an internationally agreed system would be preferable. Any such pricing or trading system will also need to mitigate the disproportionate effect it will have on those with lower incomes, due to the higher costs of fossil fuels coupled with higher proportions of income spent on energy. It likely will also require regulatory measures to assure that environmental justice communities do not continue to disproportionately bear the risks associated with co-pollutants, like sulfur dioxide and mercury.

Given the decades-long effort to place a price on carbon and the urgency, immediate action is needed using the tools already available to reduce GHG emissions. The nation will need to address this issue across the economy through a comprehensive approach like those identified in ELI Press’s Legal Pathways for Deep Decarbonization book, which lists more than a thousand recommendations for legal instruments covering all forms of GHGs and how they are generated and released.

We also need a comprehensive and just policy for adapting to the risks — and impacts — of climate change and for helping communities become resilient. This will require an appropriate model for assessing risk. Decisions must be based on the possibility of the uncertain but potentially massive catastrophic outcomes related to natural disasters, sea-level rise, drought, and biodiversity loss. Many of these processes will require legal tools, like the model laws being produced by volunteer attorneys based on the recommendations in Legal Pathways, but others will require public investment such as transit projects, and in making buildings safer, healthier, and more energy efficient. Electrifying and investing in grid updates will also be essential in this effort, creating a more robust, resilient, and efficient network. Government agencies need to plan for how they will deliver essential services amidst climate disruptions, and how they will coordinate with partners at other levels of government. In addition to significant adaptation actions, the law must account for the liabilities associated with unintended consequences of adaptation measures.

Federal, state, local, and tribal governments need to remove subsidies, including tax breaks and other incentives, for fossil fuels and carbon-intensive industries. These governments will also need to reduce or remove regulatory barriers related to decarbonization of the economy while promoting social equity at every stage and level.

Government policies are needed to provide incentives for innovation and investment toward a carbon-free future. This will be particularly important in the absence of a price on carbon to promote development of the necessary technologies. Means to remove or sequester carbon from the atmosphere may be necessary if mitigation efforts do not advance at a sufficient pace.

An effective climate governance regime will require the engagement of the private sector in a multi-tiered system with distributed roles and accountability mechanisms. The regime must capitalize on and encourage private-sector initiatives to meet climate change goals. This can include supply chain systems that rely on a variety of approaches, including certification, auditing, labeling, and reporting programs enforced through contracts.

An equity lens will be critical in designing these polices to ensure that affected and especially vulnerable communities are meaningfully involved in designing and implementing these measures. If policies are designed to protect against the greatest potential risk, in many cases this will result in just outcomes. An updated and enhanced conception of the duty of care in both government and the private sector will help to facilitate this.

THE nation has made major strides in controlling water pollution from point sources. But many of the sources of impairment to water quality are from nonpoint sources — runoff and discharges from areas of land and operations that are not subject to direct federal regulation under the 1972 Clean Water Act. Even though these uncontrolled sources of pollution were recognized in the statute, they were not regulated because of concerns with federal legislative intrusion on state and local land use prerogatives and solicitude for such industries as agriculture, forestry, and land development.

The Wingspread and Airlie House participants preferred a more watershed-health-focused system over the status quo, which concentrates permit-by-permit on individual sources and on effluent limits on pollutant discharges. An alternative future could be far more focused on land quality and water quality results.

Given the major contribution of diffuse sources to the remaining water pollution problems, a new sense of urgency is needed for dealing with it. One way to accomplish this result could be to recharacterize these sources as “uncontrolled pollution” rather than using the innocuous term nonpoint pollution. The public and institutional motivation necessary to support advancement in law needs to be defined as achieving better environmental and public health outcomes — not controlling nonpoint sources.

State regulators should create a new structural framework for dealing with uncontrolled pollution. Simply relying on the current state water quality and waste load allocation framework has not proven effective. This new framework should capture sectors that have previously escaped requirements to reduce uncontrolled pollution. It should also focus on watersheds with major, recurrent pollution threatening public health and welfare.

Legislators can also consider funding and relying on big data, and making it publicly accessible. A great deal of data exists on water quality and more will become available as monitoring technology advances and is used by citizens. This will make it possible to define and track progress toward watershed outcomes. Sharing of data on public platforms and integration of ecological information with water quality, discharge data, geo-siting of best management practices, remote sensing, and biological sampling should be encouraged and supported.

At the federal level, officials should provide key actors with the power to create change by matching the best tool to the source of impairment. Policymakers should inventory effective regulatory and non-regulatory approaches and target these to sectors, watersheds, and problems where they have been proven. EPA or others should construct a database of tools used by the states, federal programs, the private sector, and others, and determine how these can be applied to different forms of uncontrolled pollution in different types of watersheds and settings. This resource could further be backed by supporting and funding integrated water management planning, and making funding available for implementation of the tools.

At both levels of government, policymakers should link federal and state procurement to effective management of uncontrolled pollution in the supply chain. This approach recognizes that government funding is substantial in the acquisition of food and fiber, materials, energy, and development. The reimagined approach would expressly provide for disclosures and certifications and perhaps pollution controls as conditions related to receiving funds.

All agencies at the national level need to require that federally funded land and water and development projects, and all authorized activities on federal lands, must result in net water quality improvements — or at least restoration to no net loss of water quality where there is no opportunity to achieve a net improvement.

THE European Union in its Circular Economy Plan noted, “There is only one planet Earth, yet by 2050, the world will be consuming as if there were three.” According to the United Nations, “In 2017, worldwide material consumption reached 92.1 billion tons . . . a 254 percent increase from 27 billion in 1970, with the rate of extraction accelerating every year since 2000. This reflects the increased demand for natural resources that has defined the past decades, resulting in undue burden on environmental resources.”

The United Nations’ Sustainable Development Goal 12 deals with production and consumption and notes that achieving its goal requires urgent reduction of the world’s “ecological footprint by changing the way we produce and consume goods and resources.” SDG 12 points out that “efficient management of our shared natural resources, and the way we dispose of toxic waste and pollutants, are important targets to achieve this goal. Encouraging industries, businesses, and consumers to recycle and reduce waste is equally as important.” Materials consumption is particularly challenging in the United States. In 2017 U.S. per capita materials consumption, including fuels, was 42 percent higher than Europe’s. Despite the increasingly clear adverse impacts of unsustainable materials use, the issue has received relatively little attention in U.S. environmental law.

The Wingspread and Airlie House participants built on work by the leading advocates of the circular economy, the World Resources Institute and the Ellen McArthur Foundation. The participants reimagined materials conservation and use to include a number of elements. With growing corporate, government, and nongovernment interest in the idea of a circular economy, the participants thought now is a good time to convene a national dialogue to discuss how to move to such a system in the United States.

Extended producer responsibility, or EPR, at the national level would create a level playing field across the country. A national EPR for electronics waste would help reduce environmental impacts and could make it easier for businesses to set up systems.

A national GHG policy that establishes a price on carbon would be important beyond just climate change by helping drive product redesign and reductions in materials use. A price on carbon could drive business innovation by providing a financial incentive to look carefully at energy inputs needed to extract new resources and manufacture and transport products, and to find ways to reuse them.

Federal procurement rules could be redesigned so that criteria favor products and services that are consistent with a circular economy. Further, as part of the economic recovery effort, the federal government is likely to spend a great deal on infrastructure. As a result, the new administration can have a major impact on responsible production and consumption by taking materials conservation and circular economy principles into account in procurement, perhaps through executive orders that build on available authority. Such changes could model desired behavior for state governments, universities, and other large procuring organizations.

Resource Conservation and Recovery Act regulations could be revised to reflect the circular economy hierarchy, which goes beyond the traditional reduce, reuse, recycle paradigm to include preventing the use of resources in the first instance, encouraging repairing and refurbishing, and supporting remanufacturing and repurposing. Model legislation could be developed for states to adopt this new circular economy waste hierarchy.

Materials conservation could be added as a factor to be considered in NEPA analyses. The White House Council on Environmental Quality could contribute to responsible production and consumption by providing guidance to agencies on how to consider materials use and conservation in environmental impact review.

Policymakers can explore the possibility of “fate labelling” for consumer products, so that purchasers can make more informed decisions. This could be done using QR codes or through systems in use or planned in the European Union.

HEALTHY populations cannot exist without healthy ecosystems. Driven primarily by anthropogenic activities, destroyed and degraded ecosystems threaten critical resources in significant and varied ways. Land, ocean, and freshwater systems are all affected. While legal and policy efforts have attempted to address the problem through species- or resource-specific mechanisms within geopolitical borders, the lack of coordinated efforts built around ecosystem-based solutions has meant the problem continues relatively unchecked. Without humanity changing current production and consumption patterns, along with precipitous population growth and unsustainable practices, trends will continue to worsen.

Healthy habitats provide untold benefits, sometimes called ecosystem services, which must be adequately preserved. Responses to these challenges must be direct and swift to avert the most significant impacts of development.

At least eighty countries have adopted policies to help ensure any impacts to biodiversity or ecosystem services from development projects are offset by mitigation, an approach known as “no net loss.” One important goal of the no-net-loss method is to make sure any populations affected by the development project and associated mitigation are not left worse off, but are ideally better off after the plans are completed.

In the United States, no federal statute focuses exclusively or directly on mitigating ecosystem degradation. Generally, domestic environmental laws focus on addressing a single issue rather than on ecosystems comprehensively. Unfortunately, these policies often do not account for the complex and interdependent nature of ecosystems. Moreover, these issues are typically managed based on short-term goals and primarily within distinct political and jurisdictional boundaries that do not necessarily reflect the scope of targeted resources. Even when governmental bodies work together on a project or program, their mandate and funding allocation falls short of long-term ecosystem restoration.

Policies at the federal, state, and local levels that emphasize no net loss of ecosystem services are needed to ensure these functions are preserved. This could be achieved by building on existing programs. An immediate action that could provide impetus to such a policy would be to revive the “Incorporating Ecosystem Services into Federal Decisionmaking” memo, issued jointly by the Office of Management and Budget, CEQ, and the White House Office of Science and Technology Policy in 2015. This memo called on “agencies to develop and institutionalize policies to promote consideration of ecosystem services . . . in planning, investments, and regulatory contexts.”

Policymakers should revise their environment and natural resources management frameworks with a goal of adopting a more holistic approach that prioritizes local ecosystem-level decisionmaking. This includes enacting federal legislation that requires no net loss of ecosystem services and encourages local and state-level ecosystem management. The framework would build on the existing approach to wetlands management but would provide expanded application and account for a wider array of natural benefits. Legislation should include provisions for grant funding for research and data collection, and for the development of multi‐stakeholder, consensus‐based ecosystem management. For example, federal actions subject to review under NEPA could shift focus from considering project impacts to ecosystem services impacts. Local and state land use decisions could build upon precedent set with mitigation banking under the Clean Water Act.

It is critical to emphasize that this approach could become a major equity concern if mismanaged. Communities must be involved so that the damages and benefits are spread justly across and within communities. This is especially true when addressing the legacy of discrimination faced by environmental justice communities and determining what damage is permissible under a no-net-loss framework. Making these decisions and processes more local provides an opportunity to protect residents from this potential concern.

Federal changes should be bolstered by efforts at the state level, including through revising or adopting state-level NEPA laws to include requiring an analysis of how a project will affect ecosystems and ecosystem services in the long term.

Policymakers at all levels should reform governance structures to complement ecological boundaries. Ecologically oriented governance will prioritize the entire habitat or watershed and more effectively integrate natural systems and environmental media to better ensure impacts are accounted for and degradation is mitigated. That reorganization will necessarily require inter- and intra-governmental cooperation at all levels — federal, state, local, and tribal. Throughout, these techniques should involve communities and incorporate traditional ecological knowledge.

To better align ecology and governance, the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service should be given the authority to work with multiple levels of government and private entities to negotiate land use plans that protect or enhance ecosystem services. Such authority would be particularly useful when endangered species and critical habitat are at issue, providing a protective mechanism with widespread stakeholder engagement. Bringing together all parties with jurisdiction within a given ecological context with oversight by FWS may enhance cooperation and response to ecosystem management challenges.

New and existing regional governance bodies could be provided with “pre-authorization compacts” akin to water compacts and regional electricity grid agreements to address different parts of the same environmental event or phenomenon. While arguably less comprehensive than ecosystem-level management, compacts may be more feasible and can still help facilitate responsive coordination to environmental impacts.

INJUSTICE is manifest in several dimensions across the landscape of U.S. environmental law and policy, at all levels of governance, from local actions to state and federal decisionmaking. Communities of color and low-income communities often experience higher releases of pollutants, siting of undesirable land uses, and lack of access to environmental benefits and amenities. These same communities already bear a substantial health, social, and economic burden from pollutants, poorer access to healthy living spaces, effects of poverty, and inadequate access to health care. Even where pollutants and practices are similar to those experienced elsewhere, the addition of these burdens to existing health, socioeconomic, and community conditions can have greater cumulative adverse impacts on such environmental justice community residents.

At the federal level, the framework for environmental justice has been almost entirely based on executive orders and agency memoranda, rather than on enforceable laws and regulations. Environmental justice gained formal federal recognition in Executive Order 12898, “Federal Actions To Address Environmental Justice in Minority Populations and Low-Income Populations,” issued by President Clinton in 1994, and still in effect today.

But there is still no focused and specific federal statutory foundation for environmental justice. EPA’s Office of Environmental Justice has identified various provisions in federal law that can be cited by federal agencies when they desire to support an EJ-related decision. OEJ also has developed EJScreen, a mapping and information tool, to assist agency decisionmakers and permit applicants in identifying communities and implementation factors where cumulative adverse impacts may occur. In the absence of legal drivers, however, this kind of tool cannot alone produce substantive change.

A number of states have enacted environmental justice legislation or adopted regulations or policy instruments to give EJ a greater role in decisionmaking. California’s CalEnviroScreen, for example, enables decisionmakers to identify environmentally burdened communities and create indices used for permitting, enforcement, and funding prioritization.

THE Wingspread and Airlie conferees recognized the need for legal processes to obtain just outcomes and not merely more accessible procedures — especially given cumulative impacts on EJ communities. They noted that EJ initiatives, in order to be effective, must be thoroughly integrated into all decisionmaking affecting the environment. It cannot simply be an add-on or check-off at the end of a decision process.

A minority of states already have constitutional rights related to the environment, but only a few of these are self-executing and enforceable by members of the public and communities. Environmental justice may be advanced by promoting adoption of such state amendments. In those states that already have only hortatory environmental amendments on the books, the approach would seek appropriate further amendment to enhance enforceability. This approach would require careful drafting of amendments to ensure that they are self-executing and hence enforceable without the need for additional state legislation. It would also need to create or recognize a public trust in the natural resources of the state, including clean air, pure water, biological resources, and publicly owned lands and resources, and state a human right to a clean and healthy environment.

Federal and state legislation that embodies important EJ procedural and outcome elements should be adopted. Such legislation can include codification of E.O. 12898 elements, including definitions of minority and low-income communities and disproportionately high and adverse impacts, as well as meaningful engagement and other provisions. The laws could require tools such as EJScreen. There could be other requirements for new development in communities overburdened by pollution to offset any projected increases in pollution loadings, with reductions in the existing pollution inventory on a 1:1 or net-reduction basis. Statutes could mandate disclosures of information by applicants or operators that will enable communities to participate in review processes and take action to protect their health and resources. They could remove legal barriers to public participation in decisions affecting EJ communities. Finally, the laws could create a private right of action for enforcement of civil rights.

For the private sector, policymakers could promote and encourage private governance and corporate commitments and accountability mechanisms for environmental justice. Companies and groups of companies and organizations can develop best practices and codes of conduct that firms integrate into their decision processes, management systems, supply chain requirements, and internal and external accountability mechanisms.

As the country embarks on the second half-century of the modern environmental law era, it is important to recognize both the successes of the past as well as the issues for which environmental law has not been as successful. The Reimagining process was designed to focus on some of the critical issues to ensure that policymakers seriously address remaining problems and inequities. We hope that when our successors look back on environmental law at 100, they will be able to identify significant progress in the areas identified by the Wingspread and Airlie House participants as critical issues. R&P

John Pendergrass is ELI’s vice president for programs and publications, and leads the Research and Policy Division. ELI Visiting Scholar LeRoy Paddock is distinguished professorial lecturer in environmental law at George Washington University Law School.

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The authors thank all the Wingspread and Airlie House participants, who are the true authors of this article, and James McElfish, Sandra Nichols Thiam, and Jarryd Page, who drafted the white papers that were excerpted here.

 

ELI POLICY BRIEF No. 17 Over the next 50 years, policymakers need to fill in significant gaps in environmental and resource law to achieve a sustainable economy. That means addressing climate change, polluted runoff, materials reuse, ecological degradation, and environmental justice.