Beacon – Vermont Journal of Environmental Law

From Pollution Catastrophe to a Just and Equitable Future

By Christian Patierno

The armpit of America (as out-of-staters often refer to it), New Jersey, is working to shed this distasteful reputation with its recent groundbreaking environmental justice legislation. Some critics argue that environmental justice and job creation are incompatible, but New Jersey demonstrates that they can coexist. The two are not mutually exclusive; effective environmental regulations that protect disadvantaged communities can coexist with job preservation and creation. Despite its polluted reputation, New Jersey is making strides to create a better reality for all.

As a native New Jerseyan, I can say it is a beautiful state. Unfortunately, there are failures in the state’s environmental quality. One of the most well-known examples is the failure of the Passaic River, which was once one of the most toxically polluted rivers in the U.S. Years of manufacturing and poor disposal methods left toxins like dioxin, mercury, and PCBs, including byproducts of Agent Orange, in the sediment. This pollution, resulting from poor land-use management, negatively affects vulnerable, often immigrant populations and permeates many populated cities and towns, including my own. And New Jersey’s pollution calamity isn’t limited to rivers; ozone pollution is among the worst in the nation. According to the American Lung Association, all counties in New Jersey except for one fell into metropolitan areas that ranked among the twenty-five worst for ozone pollution. New Jersey has lived up to its reputation as a massive landfill. Of 846 landfill sites, 830 have been closed and are no longer accepting waste; however, many toxins remain and may contribute to New Jersey’s high ozone levels. Finally, driving home the pollution problem, New Jersey has the most Superfund sites in the nation, with 115 sites listed on the EPA’s National Priorities List. These sites are areas where hazardous waste has been improperly managed and are now eligible for federal clean-up funding. However, the effects of the states’ pollution are not felt equally.

The effects of these toxic pollutants are compounded by the fact that New Jersey has the highest population density of any state, resulting in increased exposure to these pollutants. They have disproportionately impacted minority communities. Many of the state’s polluted sites are clustered around major cities like Jersey City, Newark, Trenton, and Atlantic City, all of which have predominantly African American and other minority populations. Studies conducted in New Jersey indicate that many residents believe the government is not doing enough to regulate. They’ve also shown that African Americans are more likely to live in neighborhoods with poor environment and living conditions “which can limit physical activity and contribute to higher rates of premature mortality and morbidity.” This pollution can also devalue properties, create unsafe conditions, and lead to inadequate services in response. However, recent legislation has brought hope to these communities, which have been disproportionately affected by years of pollution and environmental neglect.

This legislation is underwhelmingly referred to as New Jersey’s Environmental Justice Law. However, its effects are far from underwhelming and are instead trailblazing. The law, passed by Governor Phil Murphy in 2020, requires the New Jersey Department of Environmental Protection (DEP) to evaluate the environmental and health impacts on overburdened communities (OBCs) when reviewing applications for new facilities. It directs the DEP to reject applications for new facilities that cannot be shown to avoid disproportionate impacts on OBCs or serve the public interest. An “overburdened community” is defined as any community in which “1. at least 35 percent of the households qualify as low-income households; 2. at least 40 percent of the residents identify as minority or as members of a State recognized tribal community; 3. or at least 40 percent of the households have limited English proficiency.” Notably, this legislation is the first of its kind in the country. It aims to provide all residents, regardless of income, race, ethnicity, or national origin, with a healthy environment to live and raise a family.

However, there’s always a “but”. Critics argue that this law, and others like it, could threaten the economy, especially in the communities it aims to protect. Ray Cantor of the NJBIA stated the rule “misses the mark by only focusing on presumed negative impacts” and doesn’t consider benefits like jobs that facilities bring. Cantor warns that communities could lose opportunities for economic development if permit decisions are made based on “the number stressors on paper , versus actual stressors.” This isn’t specific only to New Jersey; the same arguments are present at the federal level. In West Virginia v. EPA, the Supreme Court limited the EPA’s authority to regulate power plant emissions, justified by the idea that strict EPA regulations might threaten the viability of fossil fuel generation and give the EPA too much power over associated future jobs and revenue. In seeking to be shielded from regulation, the fossil fuel industry often cites the impact on revenue and potential job losses. However, justifying this by citing potential future job and revenue losses is not entirely accurate regarding environmental justice-based regulation; such regulation can support both the environment and the economy.

On a national level, the Inflation Reduction Act has led to billions being invested in clean energy and climate resilience. The Inflation Reduction Act, at the same time, while it works to combat pollution, has generated numerous new jobs. Examples include BlueOval SK, a subsidiary of Ford funded by the IRA, which will build battery manufacturing plants and create 7,500 new jobs near disadvantaged communities. Another employer, ChargerHelp! is training thousands of maintenance technicians from disadvantaged communities to support EV expansion. Yet another, BlocPower, installs low-infrastructure Wi-Fi networks and other electric technologies in low-income neighborhoods. Under the IRA, it also makes certain tax rebates available to customers. EJ policies are not holding these businesses back; they are helping them. Companies are learning to align with federal and state initiatives and secure funding to support communities in need. Environmental attorney Matthew Karmel notes that even in New Jersey, where regulations are stringent, companies are taking proactive measures, engaging with the community, conducting risk assessments, and considering the proximity of EJ communities when evaluating a project.

The New Jersey Environmental Justice Law is not anti-economy; it’s meant to protect disadvantaged communities. The law requires companies to demonstrate that they cannot avoid disproportionate impacts on disadvantaged communities, and if they cannot, they must take additional measures to protect those communities facing greater burdens. This is more than strict permitting; it gives a voice to disadvantaged communities. It helps demonstrate that environmental regulation can have a positive impact on economic growth and that growth doesn’t need to harm public health, especially in disadvantaged communities, while providing good access to jobs.

New Jersey is taking a strong stance with its law, even if a new facility would greatly boost the economy. If it negatively impacts a disadvantaged community, the project should and will be dead in the water, or, I suppose, the Passaic. For a long time, disadvantaged communities in New Jersey have been subjected to pollution by companies that disregarded their health. The law seeks to strike a balance between the two, favoring disadvantaged communities and their health while also providing jobs. One of the most polluted states is making progress. If New Jersey can do it, so can others.

Coming Back to Earth with Agroecology: Regenerating Our Soils and Our Communities Out of Agrochemical-Heavy Conventional Farming

By Ilinca Johnson

Agriculture could become one of the greatest mitigation forces of climate change, as well as remedy and prevent environmental justice issues in the American food system. Currently, the ability of the food system to meet food security needs is threatened by soil erosion, which is created by climate change, and conventional farming practices. An estimation from the U.S. Department of Agriculture suggests more than 57 billion tons of soil are eroded on Midwest farms due to conventional farming practice. These soil-negative circumstances are worsening already poor conditionsfor many farm workers and rural communities across America. Regenerating agricultural soils with agroecology through holistic system uplift goes together with making American farming a climate solution and addresses historic and present wrongs in rural and environmental justice communities.

Agroecology is distinctly and explicitly a systems theory similar to regenerative agriculture. However, agroecology goes further and approaches social and economic dimensions of localized, territorial food systems. When considering approaches to the systematically marginalized, agroecology “seeks to minimize external inputs and optimize sustainable interactions between plants, animals, humans and the broader environment.” Historically, agroecology originates from indigenous food practices before entering scientific literature in the past hundred years. Now, agroecology is promoted as a climate and social justice solution locally and globally.

Agroecology comprises both ecological and social principles. First, there is a link between the vitality of the soil microbiome and crops to be able to hold down higher carbon stocks, not erode, and maintain the health of civilization. If healthy soil bacteria and fungi are gone, then the soil degrades and cannot sustain plant-life. Humans depend on cropland for 99.7% of their food. With proper management from the agroecological regenerative farming techniques,the United States’ historical declines over the past two centuries of Soil Organic Carbon (SOC) can be reversed. Boosting SOC means drawing carbon out of the atmosphere, leading to the revitalization of soils and microscopic soil life. That then revitalizes surrounding or integrated ecosystems and rural communities, as well as provides more nutrient-rich foods to people everywhere.

Second, the social and cultural principles of agroecology encompass the local and cultural-specifics of farmworkers and rural communities, respectively. Agroecology facilitates co-creating and sharing of knowledge within the context-specific agricultural lands, incorporating local culture and food traditions, and building capacities that improve livelihoods and the rights of locals. Further, agroecology recognizes that these communities heavily depend on terrestrial and aquatic biodiversity and services for both livelihood and sustenance, requiring community-level governance with stakeholders. Lastly, agroecology is an agricultural mechanism for just transition, necessitating a shift to a circular, non-extractive economy.

At this time, 80% of all global agricultural land is moderately to severely eroded—to the point of no longer being arable from conventional farming practices. Modern, industrial agriculture replaces multispecies ecosystems with monoculture crops and technologies like laser-guided tractors and agrochemicals. Agrochemicals include herbicides, fertilizers, pesticides, antibiotics, and fungicides. Agrochemicals kill even beneficial soil microbes, causing soil fertility declines, and disrupting surrounding wild ecosystems by killing natural predators. More agrotechnological inputs are required to maintain crop yields as soil dies. Deteriorating soil fertility makes crops more vulnerable to insects. The negative repercussions extend to humans.

Rural agricultural communities living near farms or CAFOs are exposed to pesticides through their employment and pesticide drift. These pollutants can affect farmworkers and rural community members acutely in the short-term by causing headaches, nausea, vomiting, dizziness, and rashes. Over the long-term, pesticide and herbicide exposure can lead to cancer, asthma, suicide, autoimmune diseases, Parkinson’s disease, or sterility. Prenatal exposure has been associated with neurodevelopmental problems including lower IQ, and issues with brain function, reflexes, and ability to connect. Up to 300,000 farmworkers become ill each year because of pesticide exposure.

Significant consolidation of farming operations is leading to fewer protections for farmworkers and ruralcommunities. During the late 1940s, researchers investigated whether increasing the concentration of power in farming, as small independent farms decreased, has had an impact on communities’ overall wellbeing. Early researchdemonstrated that having greater numbers of small farms was related to community wellbeing, an outcome that received huge backlash by corporations. As a result, the USDA shut down its unit that commissioned this research. Later research, including much larger quantitative studies, showed similar findings to these early researches.

Runoff from crop fields and livestock releases large amounts of pollutants into neighboring bodies of water, accounting for “65 to 75 percent of all pollution in the most polluted waters of the United States.” Direct discharge of animal wastes, particularly Concentrated Animal Feeding Lots (“CAFOs”), lowers water quality and the standard of health within ecosystems. Waste spills from larger CAFO’s with poor sanitation are prone to waste spills and can cause public health emergencies, affecting nearby aquatic habitats and species. In North Carolina during the summer of 1995, there were seven major spills from waste lagoons, six related to hog feeding operations. Over more than 30 million gallons of hog waste poor into waterways, resulting in a “massive fish-kill” with over 15 million fish killed in their rivers.

A study from the California Institute for Rural Studies found that 45% of Fresno County farmworkers and 66%of Salinas Valley farmworkers are food insecure, despite living in two of the most agriculturally productive regions of the U.S. Farmworkers often live in substandard housing conditions that are overcrowded, whose conditions are unsanitary, where basic utilities are lacking, and in areas isolated for basic service needs including health clinics, grocery stores, and public transportation. Historically, big agriculture leaders and state law enforcement have met protests of farmworker treatment with violence and opposition.

The situation is not lost to the wind—soil is regenerative. So are people and surrounding communities given empowerment and resources. With the right practices, soil can be renewed, unlike fossil fuels in systems that also benefit small farmers and laborers, surrounding rural communities, and even the consumer too. In the first book ever published on American Agriculture, Connecticut Farmer Jared Eliot used the end of his introduction to consider what occurs when the best techniques are taken to the soil: “the progress that hath been made in So Short a Time is very wonderful.”

Triumphing Over Terror: The Fight for Environmental Justice Under a New Regime

by Kelly Bell

Not even one full day into his second term, President Donald Trump attacked environmental justice. Immediately slashed Biden-era executive orders protecting disadvantaged, low-income, and minority communities included Justice40 and America’s Commitment to Environmental Justice. Announcements continued on further rollbacks, and then, on Feb. 6, Environmental Protection Agency (EPA) announced the leave of 168 employees, all of whom worked for the Office of Environmental Justice and External Civil Rights. That same day, the Office of Environmental Justice was also eliminated from the Department of Justice.

Funding freezes now block over $19 billion in EPA funding. In the not-so-distant past, EPA had a budget of $2.8 billion for the Environmental and Climate Justice Program alone. All over the country, communities facing environmental injustice no longer know if the funding promised to them will arrive. This loss of executive and agency support directly harms Americans. Without funding, federally-available information, and federal support, the already-uphill battle for environmental justice just got steeper. However, the fight was never easy, and now, hope cannot be lost.

States must now more than ever consider implementing their own environmental justice programs for the welfare of vulnerable residents. Vermont’s Environmental Justice Law, for example, created two committees that focus on ensuring environmental justice in the actions of State agencies. One step further that Vermont and other states should and must consider in the wake of the collapsing federal protections is providing state grants specifically to address environmental injustice within their borders. These state grants could be provided to communities, community organizations, or nonprofits in the areas. Vermont gives Community Development grants. Adding a separate initiative for environmental justice community grants tides over the loss of the federal support.

We will unfortunately not see states take as drastic an action as needed to protect these communities, and some states will not take any actions at all. President Biden’s administration faced state backlash from environmental justice initiatives. Louisiana is one state from which we will not see environmental justice support. The state’s 85-mile ‘Cancer Alley’ is a hotspot desperately needing environmental justice; minority communities disproportionally face the significant health effects impacting the region. In reaction to Biden’s initiatives, however, Louisiana refused to acknowledge or claim any significance on this racial disparity.

Nonprofits––both legal and community-founded––will need to keep the dreams of environmental justice alive by stepping up and filling the gaps left by states. The Southern Environmental Law Center, for example, explicitly called for protecting the federal funding already promised to communities suffering from environmental injustice. The Michigan Sierra Club made a statement regarding its priorities to safeguard communities, as did Earthjustice. During President Trump’s first term in office, nonprofits were able to keep environmental justice alive through tireless activism.

Community nonprofits and organizers, burdened once again with a fight their government should be handling for them, carry the heaviest loads. Often on the ground, in the moment, and dealing with the environmental injustice firsthand, community activists have a long fight ahead. The director of a Louisiana nonprofit faces downsizing but plans to keep up the fight as best as possible (though this is a clear example of how deep the work will get in these states supporting Trump’s rollbacks on environmental justice). The steps forward for directors in these situations seem grim, but possibilities exist. Grassroots organizing, making due without the federal grants, may not give way to much progress, but it another way to minimize the harm of the stripped protections. The Strategic Concepts in Organizing and Policy Education, for example, works to promote education about environmental justice impacting the local community and aid in community projects.

In conclusion, President Trump’s environmental justice rollbacks will harm vulnerable communities. States should step up and fight for their communities, but many agree with the rollbacks and will allow these changes without a fight. Legal nonprofits have and will continue fighting, but much of the work in keeping the communities running will fall on residents and local organizations themselves. Instead of embracing fear, remember: in times where we only have each other, unity is our strength.

Green Gentrification: Rochester’s Inner Loop

By Katherine Scott

Community development is an essential part of creating a more sustainable society. The way that most cities currently operate is not efficient and is generally detrimental to the environment. To change that, city planners, architects, and legislators will scope out spaces that can be re-utilized into something more sustainable. They develop plans to create more walkable cities to reduce the amount of time an average commuter has to spend in a car, or they’ll create larger plots of land for trees and other vegetation to create “green space” in a city.

These are great ideas, but the plans often overlook what is already in front of them. City planners and legislators often tear down what already exists to create green spaces or more walkable cities. By doing so, they discount the residents who live in that community.

The major factor that often goes under looked, or that gets reduced to a small net loss, is the economic impact that “greening” the city will have on the current residents. Too often, those residents are low-income and disproportionately people of color. For example, New York City converted an abandoned subway track into a lovely park for people to walk on, called the High Line. This park includes modern art, plenty of plants and flowers, and an incredible view of the city. However, many parts of the High Line are surrounded by resident housing (as is most of New York City). Any residential housing adjacent to the High Line raised housing values by 35%. The increase displaced current residents and keeps out anyone who cannot meet the new economic norm.

This is the process known as green gentrification. Cities have big aspirations of creating a sustainable community but end up displacing low-income residents. This happens all over the country, but more specifically, it is happening right now in Rochester, New York.

Marketview Heights is a community in Rochester that has existed for generations. Members of the Marketview Heights community want to keep the community’s sense of place and are skeptical about the incoming teardown of Inner Loop North. Sense of place is the attachment that one has to their home and to their community. When there is not a strong connection to the community, people tend to not treat the space very well. Renters who move into the places built in place of the Inner Loop often do not have a strong connection to their community. Residents fear losing this sense of place, especially given what they have already experienced from the Inner Loop East project.

In the place of Inner Loop East, where part of the highway used to run, are towering modernized apartment buildings for renters. It is quite a juxtaposition from the houses just across the river that have been standing for generations. When asked about the change, Suzanna Mayer, of the local Non-profit Hinge Neighborhoods, said, “They got rid of a moat, and built a wall.”

The city of Rochester, New York, has just recently received a substantial grant from the state to tear down another part of the Inner Loop–a highway that has segregated the downtown Rochester community since the 1960s. From the perspective of an observer of the downtown Rochester community, this is a great success. The city of Rochester is achieving its goal of tearing down the eye-sore highway, making downtown Rochester a more walkable city, and creating “. . .safer streets, bike lanes, green spaces, and good paying local construction jobs. . ..” to quote Senator Chuck Schumer when interviewed for the City of Rochester website. This seems like a great environmental win for the city. Some residents of Marketview Heights, the community right down the street from the recent Inner Loop East construction, disagree.

Renters who move into the places built in place of the Inner Loop often do not have a strong connection to their community.

A solution to this inevitable paradox: Consider what the people already living in that community have to say about developing their community. The experts in community development are the people who live there. No one can create a better place for a person when they have no idea of the needs of that person and their community. Take into consideration that there could be more community-building events or what they can do to encourage renters to consider long-term living.

The “wall” that Inner Loop East built was not just a physical, aesthetic divide but a social divide as well. There must be a plan to incorporate the current Marketview Heights community into the new one created by the Inner Loop project; a plan to create opportunities for the people coming into the community and especially opportunities for its current residents. The architects of the Inner Loop project should build upon what is already in the community and listen to the residents’ input and ideas.

image used with public share permission from: ProtectThackerPass.org/resources

While We’re Here: Acknowledging Harm in Federal Green Initiatives

By Ariana Richmond

On day one in office, the new administration canceled climate change initiatives. Executive Order 14154 eliminated the “electric vehicle (EV) mandate,” revoked twelve executive orders addressing the climate crisis, and attempted to override bipartisan climate change legislation. Setting aside the consequences likely to result from an absence of federal leadership, this complete stop is also an opportunity to pause and think about equitable solutions through a Just Transition. To that end, how have green initiatives like electric vehicle goals harmed marginalized communities?

Federal green initiatives—even well-intentioned with environmental justice—too often still come at the expense of historically oppressed communities. Under the Biden administration, there was bipartisan support for clean energy and infrastructure as well as environmental justice—and even for putting them all together.

At the executive level, the Biden administration committed to environmental justice through the Justice40 (J40) Initiative. Through Executive Orders 14008 and 14096, the White House committed 40% of overall benefits from federal clean energy and infrastructure projects to historically disadvantaged communities.

Consistent with this, Congress passed, and President Biden signed into law, two pieces of landmark legislation: the 2021 Infrastructure Investment and Jobs Act (commonly known as the Bipartisan Infrastructure Law or BIL) and the 2022 Inflation Reduction Act (IRA). Both laws established infrastructure and clean energy projects that prioritized disadvantaged communities. From this, the Biden administration produced a list of over 500 programs under J40authorized by Congress for climate change and environmental justice. In this way, the federal government committed to a green economy while purporting to serve marginalized communities.

However, some of the clean energy programs directly harm marginalized communities. For example, the BIL and IRA advance electric vehicle (EV) manufacturing, which has harmful local impacts. The IRA alone appropriated $3 billion to the Department of Energy’s Advanced Technology Vehicles Manufacturing Loan Program, and removed the program’s loan cap, to fund direct loans for manufacturing facilities for EV battery critical minerals. Accordingly, the Department of Energy issued a $2.26 billion loan to Lithium Americas, a Canadian company, to build a lithium mining facility at Thacker Pass in northern Nevada. Notably, this is all part of the J40 environmental justice program. Further, both the Biden and previous administration supported the mine, with the Biden administration increasing funding and finalizing the loan.

The area of the mine, Thacker Pass, Nevada (Peehee Mu’huh), is unceded land. The Numu/Nuwu and Newe Peoples maintain rights to the land. Today, the area borders Oregon, sits atop an extinct volcano, and is likely one of the largest sources of lithium in the U.S. Most importantly, the area is hugely significant to the Indigenous Peoples who have lived there since time immemorial.

Forcibly removed to reservations nearby, at least six federally recognized Tribes of the Numu/Nuwu and Newe People resist the mine site. The Fort McDermitt Paiute and Shoshone Tribe has a 54-square mile reservation that is around 30 miles from the mine. Some of the harm to Tribes from the mine includes: obstructing hunting, fishing, and gathering rights; preventing cultural and religious practices; obstructing the continuation of traditions; and infringing on ancestral land claims—in addition to ecological and environmental harm. There is also an increased risk of violence, including sexual violence against women, historically pervasive among extractive industry practices. Additionally, the land is a sacred burial site since 1865, when U.S. soldiers massacred Numu/Nuwu and Newe Peoples who inhabited the land.

Tribes resisting the mine have sued in federal district court, lost, and lost on appeal at the Ninth Circuit. Under the National Historic Preservation Act and NEPA, the federal government must follow procedural requirements, including Tribal consultation, before approving the project. Additionally, the U.S. government has a trust relationship with Indigenous Nations and must engage in good-faith, nation-to-nation consultation. According to a February 2025 Human Rights Watch report, the construction of the mine also violates Indigenous Peoples’ rights under international law, to obtain free, prior, and informed consent before permitting the mine. Yet, the U.S. government failed to uphold each of these obligations.

In this way, the lithium mine violates the rights of Tribes despite the U.S. government categorizing the project as green and just. This case illustrates how federal green initiatives purporting to advance environmental justice fail to do so. A green economy carried out at the expense of Indigenous Peoples is neither green nor just. It is important to acknowledge this harm now while federal initiatives are stalled. It is equally important to consult directly with environmental justice communities, including Indigenous Peoples, before advancing policies for a green economy.

We Paved Paradise to Put Up with Parking Lots

Angie Kaufman

At first glance, the American parking lot may seem, well, boring; perhaps it’s helpful and convenient at best, benign at worst. However, the effects of parking reach far and wide as it drives urban sprawl, housing shortages, inequitable costs, and spatial injustice. Parking takes up nearly one third of the land in United States cities. This comes out to eight spaces per car, according to some estimates. In San Bernadino, California, parking takes up nearly fifty percent of the central city. Across the country, most land use practices prioritize scarce land and monetary capital for carsover housing. For example, parking spaces in Los Angeles take up more land than housing. As UCLA professor and parking policy specialist Donald Shoup stated, “Zoning requires a home for every car, but ignores homeless people.”

Traditionally, environmental justice refers to the disproportionate placement of industrial hazards in low-income communities and communities of color. But equal access to resources is also a foundational environmental justice principle. Car-centric zoning policies violate this principle by creating spatial injustice, the “[in]equitable allocation of socially valued resources,” like “jobs, political power, social services, environmental goods in space, and the [un]equal opportunities to utilize these resources over time.” A society designed for cars leads the way for sprawl and decentralized resources accessible only by car. Mandated amounts of parking, criminalization of pedestrians, and restrictive zoning laws have silenced urban centers and stripped them of vibrancy and resources. Car-dependence and urban sprawl limit people’s access to necessities like affordable housing and food security while exposing communities to more intense effects of climate change. Thoughtfully reshaping the law to encourage human-scale spaces that prioritize public transit and walkability can ameliorate spatial injustice by improving access to resources, affordable housing, food security, and opportunities in urban communities.

Historically, cars were seen as a status symbol. They were used primarily for sporting and entertainment, so long as you could afford the high cost of purchase and maintenance. Once manufacturers began mass producing cars, American car ownership soared. Today, high costs of purchase and maintenance remain with one crucial difference: cars are no longer a sporting luxury but rather a necessity in the daily lives of many Americans.

Through laws mandating parking minimums and zoning restrictions, corporate lobbying and market forces transformed much of the landscape from an approachable, human-scale model to one designed for cars. For example, the advent of “jaywalking” was originally justified as a way to protect pedestrians; the car lobby criminalized the act in the 1920s. The auto industry funded a propaganda campaign that framed pedestrian victims as responsible for their own death after drivers hit them. Such criminalization “reconstruct[ed] how streets are used, and who they are intended for.” In other words, criminalizing “jaywalking” redefined streets from common spaces for people to gather, shop, and walk to spaces for cars to pass through.

Researchers have recently focused on the deleterious impacts of parking minimums in municipalities. Parking minimums are local laws baked into a municipality’s zoning code that mandate developers include a specified minimum number of parking spaces per new development. As cars increased in popularity, they occupied more curb space and congested streets. As a result, municipalities implemented parking minimums. These parking minimums operate under the guise of ensuring that an adequate number of parking spaces are available for cars. In reality, there are many more parking spaces than needed. Today, it’s common knowledge among parking experts that the numbers are pulled from thin airthrough arbitrary pseudoscience.

Such abundance of free parking encourages more travel by car than would parking that requires a driver to pay directly for it. This creates two inequities. First, more travel by car requires more car infrastructure, like highways from suburban areas into cities. Highways have a prickly history with racial and environmental injustice. Federal programsfacilitated highways expansion to accommodate “white flight” – that is, when White people fled to suburban areas while redlining and disinvestment stranded people of color in urban centers. This displaced low-income communities of color and elevated the risk of industrial expansion, like incinerators, in their neighborhoods. This trend of racial injustice intertwined with highway expansion persists today.

Second, free parking offsets the price of parking spaces – each costing between five and ten thousand dollars for construction alone – to the consumer. For suburbanites driving into the city, this seems fair: without free parking, they would have to pay for it anyway. But for the urbanites that live nearby or used other means of transportation, they must pay the cost for the drivers. Housing developers also pass costs of parking to tenants, adding an average of $225 per month to a tenant’s rent, according to one estimate. That is, if there’s enough land available for developers to build housing in the first place, in accordance with parking minimum laws.

Parking minimums also imperil human health. Providing “free” parking encourages passenger car use, which increases traffic, and puts pedestrians, cyclists, and motorists at higher risk of injury or death by automobile accident. Parking minimums also drive urban sprawl by the nature of needing more space for parking and encouraging developers to opt for tracts of land outside of downtowns, where prices for land run high. This can create food deserts – areas without food options – for low-income communities and communities of color. Alternatively, the urban sprawl effect can create food swamps – areas drowned by unhealthy, fast-food options – when combined with the effect that parking minimums favor national corporations over small businesses. High density of parking also takes up land that could be used for greenspaces, depriving environmental justice communities equal access to nature, in violation of Environmental Justice Principle Number Twelve.

Moreover, parking lots’ impervious surfaces exacerbate the effects of climate change and jeopardize human health. A lack of porous surfaces to absorb flood waters and carbon intensifies flooding and directly correlates with increased temperatures in urban areas. Exhaust from cars similarly exacerbates the urban heat effect. Transportation emissions are the leading contributor of direct greenhouse gas emissions in the United States. Light-duty vehicles, like pickup trucks, and passenger cars account for nearly sixty percent of these emissions. These emissions, contribute to climate change – which strains urban infrastructure – and harm human health.

The abundance of free parking that birthed car culture has robbed municipalities of robust public transportation, walkability, and bikeability – all options that are safer, release fewer emissions, connect people of all income levels to resources, and don’t require parking lots. The costs of parking outlined above are many and don’t even account for the opportunity costs of parking minimums. At the root of it all, parking minimums drive urban sprawl and perpetuate spatial injustice for lower income residents who can’t afford to live in the suburbs – or have been systemically excluded from doing so.

Cities around the United States are beginning to recognize the impacts of parking minimums and remedy their effects by abolishing such laws, instituting parking maximums, and revamping their zoning laws to include multi-use and inclusionary zoning. Reclaiming human-scale places as an equitable climate solution, however, requires keen attention to social justice. While policies that create walkable communities are inherently equitable, they also attract gentrification, the influx of wealthier demographic and development corporations displacing working class communities and communities of color due to an increase in property values. Inoculating communities against gentrification requirescollaboration among community members, grassroots community organizing, inclusionary zoning measures and proactive housing laws. Carefully un-paving parking lots could create an equitable, human-scale paradise accessible to all.

New Jersey’s EJ Law Is Passed, and It Still Might Not Be Enough

by Isabella Marie Nangano

In 2020, the New Jersey State Legislature enacted the Environmental Justice Law, one that its citizens wanted for a long time. The law requires the Department of Environmental Protection (DEP) to consider the environmental impact of a proposed project on the community before approving its permits. This legislation was passed in response to calls from environmental activists for meaningful climate reform, particularly in a state that hosts the largest number of Superfund sites in the country. Governor Murphy expressed hope that the law would shield New Jerseyites from the pollution impacts of superstorms, like Hurricane Sandy, which caused widespread devastation in 2012. However, the law has fallen short of its promise. Despite being regarded as a landmark environmental justice law in this country, it does not fully protect the communities it was designed to serve. For instance, residents of the Ironbound neighborhood in Newark are fighting against constructing a sewage treatment plant which will lead to further pollution in the neighborhood—an outcome the Environmental Justice Law has not prevented.

Ironbound is a multicultural neighborhood rife with pollution. The heavily polluted Passaic River and countless factories border residents’ homes. These residents suffer health consequences from their living conditions, such as higher asthma rates in their children, but are unable to afford housing elsewhere. In theory, the law should be helping prevent further damage to this neighborhood, but it’s not. The state plans to build a new sewage treatment plant in the Ironbound neighborhood. The sewage treatment plant will act as a backstop for other sewage plants in case of future superstorms like Sandy. Hurricane Sandy destroyed New Jersey’s sewage system and raw sewage ran through the streets of Newark. Governor Murphey intends for this new plant to ensure that future storms are never as detrimental as Sandy. The plant is only meant for emergencies, but for one hour every day, the plant will run to ensure that the technology is still operable. The people who live in Ironbound already are impacted daily by factories and the pollution, and the last thing this neighborhood needs is another pollution source.

Ironbound residents have tried to organize against the sewage plant’s construction, but the Department of Environmental Protection conditionally approved the project in July. The plant is allowed to be built as long as it is: 1) only operative in an emergency, 2) incorporates some solar energy, and 3) utilizes high-quality equipment to reduce noise pollution. The conditional approval of this project is what the Environmental Justice Law was made to avoid. The reasoning behind building the sewage plant is to reduce the impacts from climate change-exacerbated storms (superstorms) caused by businesses which will never be a firsthand witness to the consequences of their actions. Those actors and decision-makers whose polluting tendencies created the need for an emergency sewage plant will never have to live next door to that emergency sewage plant. The Ironbound residents cannot afford housing elsewhere and are trapped in a toxic neighborhood.

The new sewage plant in Ironbound is just one example of environmental injustice in a country that has a serious problem with the disproportionate impact of pollution on poor and BIPOC communities. New Jersey appears to have taken one step towards righting these wrongs by passing the Environmental Justice Law, but that step is not enough. The intent that accompanies this law is a just one. However, the enforcement of this law is lacking. Had the Department of Environmental Protection taken a moment to consider the impact on environmental and public health that this new sewage plant would have (per the statute’s requirement) perhaps it would not have approved the project. The Environmental Justice Law is a good law, but if is ever going to live up to its potential, then the Department of Environmental Protection must try to enforce the law.

Bridging the Gap: Ensuring a Just Transition for Rural Communities in the Clean Energy Revolution

by Olivia Moulton

As we begin transitioning from fossil fuels to renewable energy, we must be mindful of the disproportionate effects that the existing energy system has had on certain communities. In order to meet the 2050 goals set forth by the International Renewable Energy Agency, approximately 37 gigatons of annual CO₂ emissions must be cut by 2050. To achieve this goal, there must be substantial improvements in energy efficiency. There are ongoing disparities in energy efficiency in rural communities in America. The importance of improving energy efficiency measures in rural communities is crucial for the clean energy transition.

Rural communities have the highest energy burdens, meaning they spend the highest percentage of their income on energy costs. Rural communities, on average, have earned less than their urban and suburban counterparts. This means that rural residents have less money to spend on energy, driving down demand and disincentivizing utilities from investing in infrastructure. Rural communities also have higher transportation energy burdens than those who live in urban areas. This is because they do not have abundant public transportation options and often have to travel further distances for work, school, and leisure. All rural subgroups can see benefits from even modest energy efficiency improvements.

One program designed to help these rural communities improve their energy efficiency is the Energy Improvements in Rural or Remote Areas (ERA) program. The ERA is funded through the Bipartisan Infrastructure Law, and received $1 billion to help expand education, investment, access, and resilience in America’s rural and remote communities. Under the ERA, there is the Cooperative Agreement Funding Opportunity and the Fixed Award Grant Funding Opportunity Announcement. Most projects have been awarded to indigenous tribes in Alaska and the western part of the country, as well as universities who help to develop clean energy projects. This is because many tribes pay almost four times the national average for their utilities, causing them to have a high energy burden.

Another program that is available is the Rural Energy Savings Program (RESP). This program provides loans to rural utilities and other companies who provide energy efficiency loans to qualified consumers to implement durable, cost-effective energy efficiency measures. Eligible applicants under this program include entities that provide retail electric service needs. These loans could help with reluctance to implement energy efficiency programs. By providing the opportunity for a utility to provide the service, it could override some of the reluctance that is seen from customers.

In the same vein as the RESP, there is also the Renewable Energy for America Program (REAP). REAP provides guaranteed loan financing and grant funding to agricultural producers and rural small businesses. 15% of agricultural production costs are energy related, and with the cost of energy rising, using less energy can go a long way. Agricultural producers are among the most energy-intensive businesses, so they would benefit the most from improved energy efficiency measures. REAP would save them money as well as reduce greenhouse gas emissions. By allowing these entities to improve their energy efficiency it can not only bring benefits to those businesses themselves but also to the communities where they are located. Allowing these businesses to cut their energy costs will allow them and their communities to prosper. For example, just switching to more efficient lightbulbs could result in energy savings of $2,658 a year. If this small measure would give farmers an almost $3,000 profit, imagine what larger efficiency measures could do.

Energy efficiency has been noted as a crucial part of the clean energy transition, but ultimately, not enough has been done to remedy energy efficiency defects. Especially in rural areas, where utilities are less likely to focus infrastructure upgrades, sentiments are often against changing the system, and energy burdens are among the highest in the country, these measures are more important than ever. In the transition to clean energy we cannot leave rural communities, often forgotten about or who come secondary to urban centers, behind. The effects that energy efficiency measures could have on these communities could not only help them financially but help to cut down on emissions by using less energy. All people deserve a place in the clean energy transition, and our actions moving forward must be just.

CAFOs: Harming People Now, Later, and Forever

by Aika Mitchell

As early as 1997, the National Bar Association had understood CAFOs to be an environmental justice issue. CAFOs directly endanger members of the local community—the majority of whom are poorer or belong to racial minorities—by polluting the air and spreading disease. Furthermore, CAFOs continue to emit significant amounts of methane, which in turn increases the incidence of climate disasters. These climate disasters differentially affect the same lives who were directly harmed by CAFOs in the first place: poorer communities with less resources to cope with climate disasters, and livestock animals who are left to die and rot when a hurricane blows through. Americans’ continued reliance on CAFOs perpetuates injustice and cruelty, subject to little regulatory oversight.

The Environmental Protection Agency created the term “Concentrated Animal Feeding Operation”, (CAFO) as part of a regulatory scheme for enforcing the Clean Water Act. CAFOs confine a large number of animals for at least 45 days in a given 12-month period. CAFOs dominate agriculture in the United States: in 2017, an estimated 99% of all meat sold in the U.S. came from animals confined in CAFOs. That’s 99% of an enormous industry—retail sales of beef alone represented 143 billion dollars in 2022. The value of broiler chicken sales (i.e. sales of chickens selective bred for maximum meat production) was about 42.6 billion dollars in 2023, and eggs brought in about 17.9 billion dollars in 2023. CAFOs are huge. They are huge in terms of dollars, animals confined, and negative effects on surrounding communities.

While data about CAFOs is hard to obtain because of EPA’s historic lack of oversight and inadequate recordkeeping, there is still evidence of the direct harm CAFOs do. Historically disenfranchised groups are harmed by a frequent proximity to CAFOs. For example, a study of CAFOs in North Carolina suggests that CAFOs tend to be sited in poorer communities with more Black people, increasing their exposure to CAFO-related pollutants. That same study also suggests that CAFO exposure is correlated with cardiovascular and kidney disease. A similar siting trend was observed in Ohio, where Black and Hispanic communities suffered higher exposure. In Pennsylvania, the 8^th largest milk producing state, CAFO exposure was correlated with preterm birth; the correlation was stronger in Black mothers. Additionally, there is the everyday burden of living near a pig CAFO. Imagine the stench of thousands of pigs, miserable, covered in feces. Your porch is unusable—there are too many flies. You can’t cook outside because the smell taints everything.

CAFO workers themselves also suffer. While the exact nature of the harm is unknown, dust and ammonia from animal manure were correlated with worsened lung function after six years of working. Exposure to certain bacteria prevalent in CAFOs also impairs lung function. CAFOs also contribute to a wider industry that harms communities, including slaughterhouses. A 2023 Beacon blog highlighted the myriad ways slaughterhouses worsen uncountable human lives. Slaughterhouse workers are more likely to suffer from anxiety, depression, and engage in substance abuse to cope. The effects from CAFOs are wide ranging and concentrated on specific communities that are not valued as highly as others.

Mere proximity to a CAFO harms people, but CAFOs are also nefarious contributors to climate change—the effects of which are borne overwhelmingly by poor and minority communities. Methane is a greenhouse gas that traps heat more effectively than carbon dioxide. CAFOs are significant methane emitters through their manure.

A 2021 EPA report demonstrated that low income, minority, undereducated, and elderly people are disproportionately affected by climate change compared to people outside those groups. For example, Black Americans are 40% more likely than non-Black Americans to live in places where climate change-induced extreme temperatures will cause death. Low income Americans or those with no high school diploma are 25% more likely to live in places where projected higher temperatures will cause losses in labor hours. The Fifth National Climate Assessment (NCA5) paints a similarly bleak picture. Low income and minority neighborhoods tend to be less resilient to the effects of climate change. Low income neighborhoods suffer from hotter surface temperatures (up to 12 degrees hotter during a heatwave), which can cause a slew of severe health problems. Throughout the country, Black communities are predicted to suffer more flood damages than other racial groups. The NCA5 attributes this differential impact to past discriminatory practices such as redlining. Thus, climate change continues to reinforce climate-resilience disparities between class and racial groups.

Despite the tremendous harm that CAFOs do, the federal government does not effectively regulate methane emissions from CAFOs. The EPA had promulgated a rule exempting smaller farms from mandatory air emissions reporting requirements back in 2008. Then, the D.C. Circuit Court of Appeals vacated that rule in the case Waterkeeper Alliance v. EPA in 2017. In response, Congress stepped in and passed the Fair Agricultural Reporting Method Act (“FARM Act”), which exempted CAFOs from needing to report their air emissions from manure to the EPA. While Congress has impeded the public’s awareness of the true extent of CAFOs’ emissions, the EPA has acknowledged, that greenhouse gas emissions (including methane emissions) have risen sharply with the proliferation of CAFOs between 1990 and 2017.

Greenhouse gases are major drivers of global climate change. Global climate change tends to disproportionately affect poor and minority communities. Nearly 20 years ago, the United Nations Food and Agriculture Organization wrote “Livestock’s Long Shadow”, which warned that the “livestock sector” is “one of the top two or three most significant contributors to the most serious environmental problems.” We did not heed that warning: livestock still contribute significantly to global greenhouse gas emissions. CAFOs remain a neglected opportunity to mitigate climate change harms.

Though the sheer size and influence of the animal agriculture industry makes change difficult, there are multiple possible avenues. Citizens can pressure state legislatures to regulate CAFOs more strictly. Oregon can celebrate a victory here: in the 2023 legislative session, a new law prohibiting CAFOs from getting discharge permits in groundwater management areas was signed into law. This was a hard-earned win, and it was only possible because of a collective effort by organizations and community stakeholders. Similarly, building just policies for broadly transitioning away from industrial animal consumption can get ahead of the common concerns (e.g. how to transition when some people absolutely rely on industrial animal agriculture to survive.)

Another legislative strategy for reducing CAFO-caused harms is pushing legislators to refine right to farm laws so that they don’t protect CAFOs. This may allow private citizens to bring common law nuisance claims against CAFOs, hopefully suing them into better behavior. A less monumental—but perhaps more critical—strategy would be changing consumption patterns. Whether your priorities are environmental justice, climate change, animal welfare, or something else altogether, personally choosing to consume less animal products is an important way to oppose CAFOs, a highly entrenched industry that inflicts tremendous amounts of harm.

Hurricane Helene and Appalachia: The Climate Disaster Built on Environmental Injustice

by Savannah Collins

Hurricane Helene

On September 26^th and 27^th of 2024, Hurricane Helene barreled through the Appalachian Mountains. Dropping over 18 inches of rain in many mountainous areas, communication lines are still down and entire sections of roads and highways have been washed away. Following days of prior rainfall, the already saturated soil could not take anymore.

As of this writing, Hurricane Helene is the deadliest hurricane to strike the mainland U.S. since Hurricane Katrina. At least 227 people are reported dead across six states with hundreds more reported missing. At least 72 people are dead in Buncombe County, NC, alone. Due to the extremely isolated nature of these mountainous homes, search and rescue efforts are still underway to locate some of the community’s most vulnerable members. Asheville is projecting that drinking water will not be restored for weeks. President Biden has declared the majority of western North Carolina as a federal disaster area, making FEMA assistance available to those who meet the requirements.

FEMA’s disaster assistance will help people get back on their feet in the short-term, but there must be a focus on rebuilding for long-term climate resilience based on what works for the affected communities. While donating helps, more physical effort on the ground and federal investments are needed to get this historically underinvested and exploited area back on its feet.

Why Appalachia is an Environmental Justice Area

The devastating storm and resulting flooding are the direct effects of climate change. Appalachia has been at the root of exploitation for well over a century and is now at the “nexus of the climate crisis.”Beginning in the 1700s and ramping up with railroad expansion in the 1800s, Appalachia and the Appalachian people have been exploited for their natural resources and physical labor for generations. Environmental justice and labor issues are deeply intertwined in Appalachia. From coal mining to fracking for natural gas, the physical impacts on the people of Appalachia are growing and compounding.

Furthermore, the area is deeply rural and often does not receive investments in their infrastructure from the federal government. As seen in 2022 with major flooding in eastern Kentucky, the area’s mountainous topography and supposedly reclaimed mining sites have made flooding significantly worse. The infrastructure in this area actually brings more problems than solutions. In fact, a 2019 project found areas in central Appalachia with increased flood risks actually overlapped with landscapes damaged by mining operations.

Additionally, most Appalachian households lack access to broadband, making filling out FEMA forms online nearly impossible. According to the FEMA website, an unreliable internet connection will likely cause issues with completing the application, potentially slowing down disaster assistance. When an area is already isolated, as is the case in many hollers in Appalachia, receiving aid requires getting past many hurdles. In the past week, there have been reports of individuals delivering supplies and aid via horseback and mules because the devastated roadways are too dangerous for vehicles. Even with this isolation and distance from the coast, climate change exacerbated storms are still hitting Appalachia.

Not only have companies physically plundered the land for coal, oil, and natural gas, but now communities like Asheville and Weaverville are directly facing the consequences. Without a more honest and focused plan on the part of the federal government, Appalachia is likely to continue to suffer at the hands of climate change built on the exploited, undervalued labor of their ancestors.

Call to Action

Legislation must be geared toward physically rebuilding these areas for long-term resilience. Organizations like Appalachian Voices, Appalachians for Appalachia, and POWHR Coalition have already been doing the work, but they need more federal funding and support. Senators and Representatives for the area should consider the long-term for their constituents and stop catering to extractive industries that reap all the physical benefits without rebuilding the community. Funding from historic environmental legislation, such as the Inflation Reduction Act, should be used to build back Appalachia for the almost certain natural disaster-filled future.