Institutionalizing Environmental Extortion: Why Jobs Projections Don’t Belong in Environmental Permitting Applications
By Kathryn LaMontagne

In the foundational environmental justice text From the Ground Up Luke Cole and Shiela Foster define Environmental Extortion as communities making the “tradeoff between jobs and health.”[1] In the text they discuss harmful industry’s targeting of communities of color by promising increased employment opportunities.[2] What plays out in this scenario is not a good faith negotiation, it is extortion, and the jobs do not follow.[3]

When industry saturates a community few if any jobs are created, and fewer go to the affected community members.[4] Despite this, agencies still consider the amount of jobs an industry is projected to bring to the community, when reviewing a permit application.[5] These jobs projections are generally unreliable and in Environmental Justice contexts they have an additional history of being used to prey on communities.[6] Agencies acceptance of jobs projections in Environmental Assessments (EA) and Environmental Impact Statements (EIS) legitimize and institutionalize these speculative and predatory reports.

When harmful industry players apply for permits to operate, they often present jobs projections in their application.[7] These projections are considered “socioeconomic benefits” for the community. [8] The alleged benefits are weighed against environmental harms a community will face by hosting the industrial facility. [9] In an area of Louisiana known as “Cancer Alley” petrochemical companies also receive massive tax breaks for their alleged “job creation.”[10]

In Cancer Alley the state subsidized petrochemical industry does not deliver on promised “socioeconomic benefits” to residents of the majority Black area.[11] According to a recent report by Tulane University’s Environmental Law Clinic about hiring practices in the petrochemical industry; “[p]eople of Color were consistently underrepresented among the highest-paying jobs and overrepresented among the lowest-paying jobs in both subsectors.”[12] Petrochemical industry players claim their unequal hiring practices are a result of educational disparity, yet there is almost no racial educational gap in the Cancer Alley area.[13] This data supports what Cancer Alley community members have long spoken out against, that they are left with all the harm and none of the benefit of harmful industry in their backyard.[14]

Across the country, pollution remains in targeted communities while even the promised socioeconomic benefits are extracted.[15] The extraction of promised benefits through racially unequal hiring practices is also not unique to the petrochemical industry in Louisiana, it is repeated across the country.[16] In the top thirty petrochemical producing states, people of color were “underrepresented in all of the highest paying jobs,” and were largely overrepresented in the lower paying jobs.[17]

The recent Tulane report seems to echo the famous United Church of Christ’s 1987 report which stated race as the number one predictor of where hazardous waste facilities will be located, regardless the community’s socioeconomic status.[18] According to the Tulane report race is a strong a predictor in exposure to common pollutants and toxic chemicals, with people of color being more likely to be exposed than whites.[19] All the while more harmful industry is trying to enter already overburdened communities like Cancer Alley. Polluters continue to request permits touting alleged “job projections” as a socioeconomic benefit to their presence.[20]

The Tulane study confirms that industry player’s job projections are not predictive of actual benefit to the communities.[21] Even outside of instances of environmental racism, job predictions are not reliable. [22] Job predictions are often inflated political tools that produce little benefit to people in need of jobs.[23] Despite the clear evidence that harmful industry does not provide jobs to the community members who their industry burdens, job projections continue to be considered by agencies and courts reviewing permit applications.[24]

The Bureau of Land Management has gone so far as to publish an online guide that gives instructions on how to include jobs projections in an Environmental Assessment or Environmental Impact Statement.[25] The guide states that a regional impacts analysis can be measured by either jobs or economic output.[26] The guide recommends applicants “emphasize cause-effect relationships,” the example they provide is: “mineral leasing can generate revenue and provide local employment opportunities.”[27] While the guide does make a point to distinguish the “value” that certain jobs may bring over others, there is no requirement that applicants ensure any projected jobs go to members of affected communities.[28]

Communities who seek justice in the courts by resisting permitting applications bolstered by speculative jobs reports will find little relief. In a recent Supreme Court case, Seven County Infrastructure Coalition v. Eagle County., the Court held that when reviewing a NEPA case, courts should give substantial deference to a federal agency’s decision.[29] It goes on to summarize the NEPA review process as agencies making a series of “fact-dependent, context-specific, and policy-laden choices.”[30] These choices include speculative jobs reports, which are presented as facts and not mere speculation.[31] Agencies already give deference to private enterprises applying for permits.[32] Because the Court gives deference to agencies who enshrine speculative jobs reports as fact, Environmental Extortion has become just another procedural aspect of project approval.

Agency consideration of speculative jobs projections has validated and institutionalized the practice of Environmental Extortion. Job projections are both predatory and unreliable and should not be included in Environmental Assessments or Environmental Impact Statements.[33] Agencies should not consider speculative jobs projections against the known harms of pollution.[34]

[1] Luke C. Cole & Shiela R. Foster, From the Ground Up 77 (2001).

[2] Id.

[3] Id. at 78.

[4] Id.

[5] BLM Socioeconomics Program, Desk Guide: Socioeconomic Aspects of Planning and NEPA 13–15 (Aug. 2024); NEPA and Project Development, U.S. Dep’t. of Transp. Fed. Highway Admin. (Feb. 21, 2018), https://www.environment.fhwa.dot.gov/nepa/Travel_LandUse/forecasting_reviewer_guidance.aspx?AspxAutoDetectCookieSupport=1.

[6] Cole & Foster, supra note 1; James Hohman, Front Page Failures: State Subsidy Deals Only Created 1 out of 11 Jobs Promised in Headlines (2024) https://www.mackinac.org/archives/2024/s2024-14.pdf.

[7] Cole & Foster, supra note 1; BLM supra note 5.

[8] Id.

[9] Id.; BLM supra note 5.

[10] Tristan Baurick, In Louisiana’s ‘Cancer Alley,’ Black Communities Get All of the Pollution, Few of the Jobs, Grist (Apr. 17, 2025) https://grist.org/equity/in-louisianas-cancer-alley-where-black-communities-get-all-of-the-pollution-few-of-the-jobs/.

[11] Kimberley Terrell, Gianna St. Julien, & Michael Ash, Pervasive Racial and Ethnic Disparities in the U.S. Petrochemical Workforce, 235 Ecological Econ. 2 (2025).

[12] Id. (emphasis in original).

[13] Id.

[14] Jarvis DeBerry, The Tax Breaks For Jobs Scheme Isn’t Working Out For Louisiana, La. Illuminator (Jun. 18, 2021), https://lailluminator.com/2021/06/18/the-tax-breaks-for-jobs-scheme-isnt-working-out-for-louisiana-jarvis-deberry/.

[15] Terrell, supra note 11.

[16] Id.

[17] Id.

[18] Bunyan Bryant & Paul Mohai, Race and the Incidence of Environmental Hazards 163 (1992).

[19] Terrell, supra note 11.

[20] Formosa Selects St. James Parish for $9.4 Billion Louisiana Project, Greater New Orleans Reg’l Econ. Dev. Inc. (Apr. 23, 2018), https://gnoinc.org/news/formosa-selects-st-james-parish-for-9-4-billion-louisiana-project/; Nate Perez & Ryal Kellman, Over-Polluted Communities Vow to Fight Despite EPA’s Rollback on Environmental Justice, NPR (June 2, 2025) https://www.npr.org/2025/05/23/nx-s1-5366617/over-polluted-communities-fight-despite-epa-rollback-environmental-justice.

[21] Terrell, supra note 11.

[22] Hohman, supra note 6.

[23] Id.

[24] Navigation and Navigable Waters, 33 U.S.C. §320.4(q); Seven Cnty. Infrastructure Coal. v. Eagle Cnty., 608 U.S. 168, 173 (2025).

[25] BLM supra note 5.

[26] Id. at 13.

[27] Id. at 7.

[28] Id. at 15.

[29] Seven County, 608 U.S. at 180.

[30] Id. at 1513.

[31] BLM supra note 5.

[32] 33 U.S.C. §320.4(q)

[33] Hohman, supra note 6; Cole & Foster, supra note 1.

[34] Hohman, supra note 6.

Data Centers are Increasing Utility Rates—What are States Doing About it?
By Daniela Ricardo

Data Centers are Increasing Electricity Consumption and Everyone Else is Paying For It
Utility bills are rising because of data centers.[1] Residential rates are up 6.6% since 2023.[2] Additionally, more than 100 utilities have either raised or proposed higher rates for a total increase of 67 billion dollars.[3] These rising prices are due to increased demand,[4] namely from data centers.[5] In 2023, 4.4% of the electricity consumed in the United States was consumed by data centers.[6] This percentage is only projected to increase.[7] Data centers increase utility rates because they require expensive updates to the grid, which existing ratemaking allows to be shifted to residential consumers.[8]

Residential consumers end up paying for part of data centers’ electricity consumption in addition to paying for data centers’ infrastructure needs. To understand how residential consumers end up paying for data centers’ power consumption, understanding utility ratemaking is essential. Utilities are monopolies.[9] Most are investor-owned and for-profit.[10] Because electricity is an essential service and the industry is shielded from competition, utilities must be regulated.[11] Public utility commissions (PUCs) make sure utilities charge justifiable rates through rate cases.[12] PUCs use the “cost causation” principle to examine whether consumer rates correspond to the costs utilities incur in providing electricity to like consumers.[13] Utilities propose their preferred rates based on their own analyses and records.[14] Part of this proposal includes dividing the cost of operating expenses and profit among customers with similar infrastructure requirements.[15] These groups are called “ratepayer classes.”[16] For each ratepayer class, utilities propose different tariffs to standardize what they pay.[17] Because the cost-causation principle is flexible, all ratepayers can be made to pay for all transmission costs.[18]

Traditional cost distribution shifts the cost of updating the grid for data centers onto residential consumers.[19] The increase in electricity demand requires high-voltage transmission infrastructure.[20] Residential consumers, however, require low-voltage systems.[21] Therefore, data centers require transmission that residential consumers do not require.[22] However, utility-planned transmission is paid for by the customers within their territory.[23] Because the Federal Energy Regulatory Commission (FERC) does not require utilities to keep transmission connection costs separate from other transmission costs, utilities do not differentiate the costs incurred from data centers from that of other consumers.[24] Hence, all consumers within a utility territory pay for all transmission costs regardless of whether they benefit from it.[25]

PJM Interconnection, a regional transmission organization (RTO) monitoring utilities in thirteen states and the District of Colombia, exemplifies how traditional cost distribution has operated in the modern sphere.[26] In 2023, PJM approved a $5.1 billion cost-share plan for transmission costs.[27] PJM assigns transmission costs based on each utilities’ share of power demand and share of benefits.[28] When PJM allocates costs to each PUC, each PUC allocates costs based on ratepayer classes.[29] Over half of the cost incurred in this case was attributed to Virginia’s data centers.[30] Ratepayers in other states argued that they should not be made to pay for transmission when Virginia alone would realize the economic benefits.[31] Because it is presumed that all ratepayers benefit from transmission proportional to their energy consumption, FERC dismissed the economic benefit argument,[32] and approved the plan.[33] In Maryland and Virginia, residential ratepayers paid for more than half of the transmission costs.[34] Unless utilities require data centers to pay for transmission up-front, residential ratepayers will end up paying for it.

When utilities do not make data centers pay for transmission costs up front, they run the risk of building unnecessary transmission.[35] Ratepayers could be on the hook for transmission costs even when a data center does not connect to the grid.[36] Utilities build transmission anticipating the large load, but when it does not come ratepayers still have to pay for it.[37] Most data centers do not pay for transmission up-front.[38] Instead, they sign contracts with utilities behind closed doors.[39]

Traditional ratemaking allows data centers and utilities to shift costs onto residential consumers through special contracts or favorable tariffs. Because data centers are large consumers, they negotiate with utilities directly.[40] Utilities offer data centers lower rates to entice them into building in that utility’s service area.[41] As opposed to ratemaking, these private contracts have little opportunity for public participation and review.[42] The process is not transparent and is isolated from other ratepayers.[43] Furthermore, these contracts incentivize utilities to increase rates for residential consumers in the next ratemaking case.[44] Utility tariffs can function similarly. For example, Florida Power and Light (FPL) recently proposed a rate hike of $10 billion.[45] In a revised settlement, FPL walked back plans to create a new tariff for data centers which would have required data centers to pay 65% higher rates.[46] Instead, data centers under a certain size would save 50% off their base bills.[47] The increase in residential rates directly contrasts data centers’ savings.[48]

Are State Laws Protecting Residential Ratepayers?
Several states have sought to address a major risk data centers pose to ratepayers—building too much transmission. In Ohio, data centers must pay penalties if they commit to using a certain amount of electricity and do not do so.[49] Data centers must pay 85% of the capacity they committed to for twelve years unless they give three years’ notice.[50] In Virginia, Dominion Energy has proposed both a rate increase and an exit fee for large load consumers.[51] It would require large load consumers to sign a fourteen-year contract.[52] If they withdraw early or do not build the facility, the consumer will still have to pay for their proposed energy costs.[53] Additionally, the consumer would have to pay a certain percentage of demand charges for transmission, distribution, and generation.[54] Oregon’s Power Act creates a new rate class for large energy users.[55] Oregon requires large energy users to sign contracts for at least ten years.[56] Large energy users are also required to pay for a minimum amount of energy and an extra fee if they exceed the maximum amount of energy projected.[57] To address potential burdens on residential ratepayers, Texas takes a slightly different approach.[58] Texas requires large energy users to pay for infrastructure costs.[59] It also requires large energy users to disconnect during emergencies and register backup generators.[60] In California, a new law requires the California Public Utilities Commission to conduct a study on the effects of data centers on ratepayers.[61]

While state-level legislation is progressing, the trend towards penalizing data centers falling short of commitments does not address major issues in traditional ratemaking. Unless data centers pay for transmission costs up-front, residential ratepayers will foot the bill. Furthermore, states with a lot of data centers are incentivized not to require data centers to pay for transmission upgrades up-front under current cost distribution methods.[62] If the RTO a state is in apportions costs by energy consumption among all states in the region, the state incurring those costs benefits the most. If that state required data centers to pay for transmission costs up-front, data centers would look elsewhere. On the other hand, requiring a data center to pay for energy it committed to using simply makes sure a utility gets paid. Either way, residential ratepayers are still on the hook for the cost of connecting data centers to the grid. Texas’ law requiring data centers to pay for costs up-front addresses this issue. Another way of addressing this issue would be changing how the cost causation principle works. If residential ratepayers are not using it, they should not pay for it.

[1] See, e.g., Marc Levy, As electric bills rise, evidence mounts that data centers share the blame, NBC Bay Area (Aug. 11, 2025, 7:13 AM) https://www.nbcbayarea.com/news/national-international/electric-bills-rise-data-centers/3931622/ (noting that 70% of last year’s increase in electricity cost was due to data center demand); see also Emma Penrod, Residential electricity rates up 6.6% over last year as gas prices rise, Utility Dive (Sept. 19, 2025), https://www.utilitydive.com/news/electricity-rates-bills-affordability-cap/759977/ (suggesting that increased demand and rising natural gas prices may be why utilities are proposing rate increases).

[2] Penrod, supra note 1.

[3] Id.

[4] Dan Gearino, Which States Are Getting Hit Hardest by Electricity Price Increases?, Inside Climate News (Sept. 25, 2025) https://insideclimatenews.org/news/25092025/inside-clean-energy-electricity-rate-hikes-by-state/.

[5] Id.

[6] Rachel Reed, How data centers may lead to higher electricity bills, Harv. L. Today (Sept. 3, 2025) https://hls.harvard.edu/today/how-data-centers-may-lead-to-higher-electricity-bills/.

[7]E.g., Lalit Batra, et al., Rising Current: America’s growing electricity demand 4 (2025), https://www.icf.com/-/media/files/icf/reports/2025/energy-demand-report-icf-2025_report.pdf?rev=c87f111ab97f481a8fe3d3148a372f7f (finding that U.S. electricity demand may grow by 25% by 2030 and 78% by 2050).

[8] E.g., Ivan Penn & Karen Weise, Big Tech’s A.I. Data Centers Are Driving Up Electricity Bills For Everyone, N.Y. Times (Aug. 14, 2024), https://www.nytimes.com/2025/08/14/business/energy-environment/ai-data-centers-electricity-costs.html (“recent reports expect data centers will require expensive upgrades to the electric grid, a cost that will be shared with residents”); see Levy, supra note 1 (“[U]nless utilities negotiate higher specialized rates, other ratepayer classes . . . are likely paying for data center power needs”).

[9] Eliza Martin & Ari Peskoe, Extracting Profits from the Public: How Utility Ratepayers Are Paying for Big Tech’s Power, Harv. Elec. L. Initiative 6 (2025), https://eelp.law.harvard.edu/wp-content/uploads/2025/03/Harvard-ELI-Extracting-Profits-from-the-Public.pdf.

[10] Id.

[11] Id.

[12] Id.

[13] Id.

[14] Id. at 7 (explaining that a utility’s preferred rate includes a “revenue requirement” to earn a profit and cover operating expenses).

[15] Id.

[16] Id.

[17] Id.

[18] Id. at 15.

[19] Union of Concerned Scientists, Connection Costs: Loophole Costs Customers Over $4 Billion to Connect Data Centers to Power Grid 2 (2025), https://www.ucs.org/sites/default/files/2025-09/PJM%20Data%20Center%20Issue%20Brief%20-%20Sep%202025.pdf; Martin & Peskoe, supra note 9 at 15.

[20] Union of Concerned Scientists, supra note 19.

[21] Id.

[22] See id. (noting that residential consumers only require low-voltage transmission).

[23] Id.

[24] Id. at 6.

[25] Id. at 4.

[26] Territory Served, PJM  https://www.pjm.com/about-pjm/who-we-are/territory-served (last visited Oct. 14, 2025).

[27] Ethan Howland, FERC approves PJM’s $5.1B cost-share plan for transmission to be built by Dominion, others, Utility Dive (Apr. 10, 2024) [hereinafter FERC approves PJM plan], https://www.utilitydive.com/news/ferc-pjm-cost-allocation-transmission-rtep-maryland-virginia/712768/.

[28] Martin & Peskoe, supra note 9 at 15 (explaining that PJM assigns transmission costs based on each utilities’ share of power demand and share of benefits).

[29] Id.

[30] Ethan Howland, Customers in 7 PJM states paid $4.4B for data center transmission in 2024: report, Utility Dive (Oct. 1, 2025) [hereinafter Customers paid $4.4B in 7 PJM states], https://www.utilitydive.com/news/pjm-data-center-transmission-costs-ratepayers/761579/.

[31] Ethan Howland, Maryland ratepayer advocate urges FERC to reject PJM’s $5.1B transmission cost allocation plan, Utility Dive (Feb. 14, 2024) [hereinafter Maryland urges FERC to reject PJM plan], https://www.utilitydive.com/news/maryland-ratepayer-advocate-ferc-pjm-rtep-transmissision-cost-virginia-data-center/707338/.

[32] Customers paid $4.4B in 7 PJM states, supra note 30.

[33] Id.; Martin & Peskoe, supra note 9 at 16.

[34] Id.

[35] Id. at 17.

[36] Martin & Peskoe, supra note 9 at 17.

[37] Id.

[38] Union of Concerned Scientists, supra note 19 at 5 (explaining that only large load customers paid for transmission connection costs up-front or directly in only 5% of cases in 2024).

[39] Reed, supra note 6.

[40] Martin & Peskoe, supra note 9 at 12.

[41] Id. at 13.

[42] Id.

[43] Id.

[44] Id. (describing a FERC audit’s discovery of Duke Energy’s plan to “shift the cost of the discount” of a data center to other ratepayers by raising their rates).

[45] Shelby Green, Key decisions loom in Florida Power and Light’s historic bid to raise rates by $10 billion, Energy & Pol’y Inst. (Sept. 15, 2025), https://energyandpolicy.org/key-decisions-loom-in-fpl-historic-bid-to-raise-rates/#h-florida-power-and-light-proposes-to-shift-significant-costs-onto-everyday-floridians (explaining that FPL changed their bid last-minute from $10 billion increase to a $6.9 billion increase).

[46] Id.

[47] Id.

[48] Id.

[49] Dan Gearino, Consumers (and a Utility) Get a Win in Ohio, While Data Centers Take the Loss, Inside Climate News (July 17, 2025), https://insideclimatenews.org/news/17072025/inside-clean-energy-ohio-data-centers-penalties/.

[50] Id.

[51] Shannon Heckt, Dominion proposes higher utility rates, new rate class for data centers, Va. Mercury (Sept. 3, 2025, 11:20 AM),  https://virginiamercury.com/2025/09/03/dominion-proposes-higher-utility-rates-new-rate-class-for-data-centers/.

[52] Id.

[53] Id.

[54] Id.

[55] H.D. 3546, 83d Leg. Assemb., Reg. Sess. (Or. 2025); Or. Legislature, Power Act: Protecting Oregonians With Energy Responsibility (2025), https://www.oregonlegislature.gov/marsh/Documents/POWER-Act_One-Pager_3-5-25.pdf?utm_.com.

[56] Id.

[57] Id.

[58] S.B. 6, 89th Leg., Reg. Sess. (Tex. 2025); David Chernicoff, Texas Senate Bill 6: A Bellwether On How States May Approach Data Center Energy Use, Data Center Frontier (July 2, 2025), https://www.datacenterfrontier.com/energy/article/55298872/texas-senate-bill-6-a-bellwether-on-how-states-may-approach-data-center-energy-use.

[59] Id.

[60] Id.

[61] S.B. 57, 2025-2026 Leg., Reg. Sess. (Ca. 2025).

[62]  Martin & Peskoe, supra note 9 at 17.

Conservation Easements Perpetuate Inequitable Land Holdings
By Jill Reynolds

Conservation easements reinforce inequitable land holdings. Such easements are conservation tools utilized exclusively by private landowners.[1] For tax benefits, private landowners sell their parcels’ development rights to either a land trust or government entity.[2] The land trust or government holds this conservation easement and must enforce it in perpetuity.[3] The private land owner can no longer develop the property conserved under the easement, nor can any subsequent owner of that land.[4] While workable in theory, this model of land conservation unduly burdens subsequent owners, benefits predominately white land owners pursuing white conservation goals of exclusion and purity,[5] and prevents the public from accessing taxpayer-funded, conserved lands.

Conservation easements stand apart from all other constructions of modern property law.[6] They stand in opposition to the rule against perpetuities by allowing a tract of land to remain undeveloped forever.[7] While an individual landowner cannot pass their land down to their heirs in perpetuity, the conservation easement is permanent.[8] This poses a number of problems. For one, enforcement. Most violators of conservation easements are third parties, meaning parties that were not involved in the original conservation easement transaction.[9]

Indeed, the main benefactor from the conservation easement is the original landowner who sells their development rights. Why is this an issue? Landowners in the U.S. are overwhelmingly white. The top one percent of landowners own forty percent of non-home real estate and the top ten agricultural landowners––who are all white––own more agricultural land than all other racial minorities combined.[10] Additionally, land and home ownership are the most consistent building blocks of generational wealth.[11] In sum, majority white landowners benefit from the reduction of taxes from the conservation easement while restricting the future development of the land.

The conservation values embedded in easements are also at odds with long-held Indigenous ways of land stewardship.[12] The former values reflect privatization, exclusion, and the mindset that the only way to protect land is to keep people off it and keep the land unchanged.[13] The latter values adaptation, reciprocity, and a dynamic push and pull between people and land.[14] The U.S. landscape has been managed by Indigenous peoples for millennia, through methods like controlled burns, forestry practices, and fishing traps.[15] With the limiting language of conservation easements, all these practices that benefit the landscape are labeled as development and therefore forbidden. In turn, white colonialist ideologies that the country was founded on continue in perpetuity. Here, development can mean any human interaction with the land, ecologically minded or not. This is not the type of land management we need or want, especially as the climate becomes increasingly unpredictable and adaptation is vital to survival.

Further, conservation easements benefit private landowners on the public’s dime. The government is involved in every conservation easement transaction.[16] Federally, the U.S. Department of Agriculture (USDA) funds millions of dollars to directly purchase conservation easements.[17] Similarly, state governments fund these transactions through appropriations funds like country conservation funds.[18] Indeed, some state tax programs are more expansive than the federal tax code.[19] Government agencies may act as a de facto, back-up holder when enforcing the conservation easement in the name of the public interest from which the funds are derived.[20] If the conservation easement is enacted in the name of the public interest, from public funds, why doesn’t the public have access to this land? Because it is private property. Private property, secured by reproducing the original white settler, colonist paradigm of forcing Indigenous Peoples off their own land.

Another drawback is that many agencies and NGOs focused on conserving land have turned primarily towards conservation easements instead of other conservation programs like fee acquisition.[21] Instead of outright owning the land, the land trusts focus on securing development rights and keeping people off the land. This creates a tunnel vision effect, with land trusts pledging most of their funding towards conservation easements instead of experimenting with different land tenure arrangements outside the dominant paradigm.[22]

Conservation easements, while created for the right reasons, fail to reflect best land stewardship practices, keep the public off lands conserved in their interest, and perpetuate land and wealth inequities. Like most tools of property law, those with the most wealth and influence will always benefit most from land tenure strategies designed to help those without privilege.[23] Conservation easements are suited for some contexts, but new legal tools that allow for dynamic land stewardship and conservation are needed.

[1] Conservation Easements, Ctr. for Agric. & Food Sys., https://farmlandaccess.org/conservation-easements/ (last visited Oct. 30, 2025).

[2] Id.

[3] Id.

[4] Id.

[5]Amath Diouf, Challenging the White Narrative of Conservation, MBC (July 26, 2020), https://www.melaninbasecamp.com/trip-reports/2020/7/1/challenging-the-white-narrative.

[6]  Roger Colinvaux, Conservation Easements: Design Flaws, Enforcement Challenges, and Reform, Utah L. Rev. 755 (2013).

[7] Rule Against Perpetuities, Legal Info. Inst., https://www.law.cornell.edu/wex/rule_against_perpetuities (last visited Oct. 12, 2025).

[8] Conservation Easements, Ctr. For Agric. & Food Sys., https://farmlandaccess.org/conservation-easements (last visited Oct. 30, 2025).

[9] Jessica. E. Jay, Enforcing Perpetual Conservation Easements Against Third-Party Violators, 32 UCLA J. Envt’l L. Pol’y 80 (2014).

[10]Jacob Waggoner, Land of the Free or Land of the Few? Harv. Mellon urban initiative, https://mellonurbanism.harvard.edu/rules-engagement-forming-guidelines-design-schools-working-marginalized-communities (last visited Oct. 12, 2025).

[11] Id.

[12] Note, the author is not pro-development in the capitalist industrial sense. They do not want to see all undeveloped land turned into strip malls. However, there is very little middle ground in terms of land stewardship within a conservation easement.

[13] See Robin Wall Kimmerer, Braiding Sweetgrass (2013).

[14] Id.

[15] Kathleen Ciola Evans & Eva Perry, The Role of Indigenous Knowledge and Land Management Practices in Conservation, Univ. Md. Dept. of Entomology, https://entomology.umd.edu/news/the-role-of-indigenous-knowledge-and-land-management-practices-in-conservation (last updated Mar. 4, 2022).

[16] Jess Phelps, Understanding the Role of Government in Conservation Easement Transactions, 100 Denver L. Rev. 721 (2023).

[17] Id. at 744.

[18] Id.

[19] Id. at 743.

[20] Id.

[21] Id. at 732.

[22] Levi Van Sant et. al., Conserving what? Conservation Easements and Environmental Justice in the Coastal U.S. South, 14 Hum. Geography 31, 33 (2021).

[23] Id. at 33–34.

Lewis Ritchie pulls a kayak through floodwater after delivering groceries to his father-in-law on July 28, 2022 outside Jackson in Breathitt County. (Photo by Michael Swensen/Getty Images).

Fracking The Hills: The Legal Exemption Flooding Appalachia
By Kathryn Stapleton

The Appalachian Mountain region has long endured frequent and devastating floods. From the shale-rich hills of West Virginia to the hollers of eastern Kentucky and the Blue Ridge Mountains of western North Carolina, communities have repeatedly witnessed creeks overflowing and valleys drowning in mud and debris. While climate change has intensified annual rainfall, another, less visible factor is compounding the crisis: the Halliburton Loophole. This exemption from federal regulations on hydraulic fracturing allows companies to inject millions of gallons of fluid underground with minimal oversight, further destabilizing the region’s already fragile hydrology and escalating the risk of catastrophic flooding.

The Halliburton Loophole: What It Is and How It Came to Be

The Halliburton Loophole was created by the Energy Policy Act of 2005, which amended the Safe Drinking Water Act (SDWA) to exempt most hydraulic fracturing operations from the Underground Injection Control (UIC) program.[1] The UIC program was originally established to regulate underground fluid injection and safeguard underground sources of drinking water (USDWs).[2] Prior to 2005, the Environmental Protection Agency (EPA) had the authority to require permits, conduct testing, and monitor subsurface injections, including those involving fracking fluids.[3]

This changed with the 2005 amendment, heavily supported by Vice President Dick Cheney, a former Halliburton CEO, and redefined “underground injection” to exclude “the underground injection of fluids or propping agents pursuant to hydraulic fracturing operations.”[4] Consequently, the EPA lost its authority to regulate the chemical makeup, injection pressures, or long-term impacts of fracking fluids.[5] Oversight now largely rests with state agencies, which in Appalachia are frequently underfunded, understaffed, and subject to political pressures.[6] The result is a fragmented regulatory system that leaves watersheds vulnerable to contamination, slope instability, and hydrologic alteration.

Connecting Fracking to Flooding: Hydrology in Hills

At first glance, fracking and flooding seem unrelated—one occurs deep underground, the other unfolds on the surface. Yet in the Appalachian Mountains, the two are deeply connected. The region’s folded shale, fractured sandstone, and legacy coal seams create natural pathways for groundwater flow. When millions of gallons of high-pressure fluid are injected into these formations, underground water movement is disrupted, potentially opening new fractures or reactivating dormant ones.[7] Without the SDWA’s UIC permitting requirements, these subsurface changes frequently go undocumented, leaving regulators unaware of dangerous buildups in groundwater pressure.[8]

When heavy rains arrive—and in Appalachia, they always do—these modified subsurface pathways amplify runoff.[9] Water that once seeped gradually into the ground may now be channeled directly to streams through fractures, raising discharge rates and peak flood levels.[10] The EPA’s 2016 assessment of hydraulic fracturing impacts found that these subsurface changes can “create or enhance hydraulic connections between deep formations and near-surface aquifers.”[11] In some instances, fracking fluids and brine have migrated upward through abandoned wells or faults, contaminating both groundwater and surface water sources.[12]

Surface disturbance further heightens the risk.[13] Fracking operations require clearing land for well pads, access roads, and retention ponds, which are often on steep, sensitive slopes.[14] These impervious surfaces limit infiltration and accelerate stormwater runoff.[15] When heavy rains pound barren hillsides, erosion worsens, stream channels become clogged with sediment, and flash floods grow even more destructive.[16]

West Virginia: Ground Zero for Legal and Hydrologic Failure

Nowhere are these dynamics clearer than in West Virginia. The 2016 West Virginia floods, which killed 23 people and caused over $1 billion in damage, were exacerbated by deforestation, slope development, and poorly regulated energy infrastructure.[17] Researchers have since argued that hydraulic fracturing and related industrial activity amplified runoff in already-fragile watersheds.[18]

A U.S. Geological Survey (USGS) study in the Monongahela River Basin found that stress-relief fractures—naturally occurring cracks in the bedrock—act as important groundwater pathways and are highly sensitive to changes in underground pressure caused by human activity.[19] Even deep injection activity can alter groundwater discharge patterns that sustain valley streams.[20] Research also shows that areas near shale-gas wells exhibit elevated groundwater pressures and disrupted base-flow dynamics, highlighting the connection between subsurface fluid injection and surface-water response.[21] These findings demonstrate how the Halliburton Loophole’s regulatory gap hinders the hydrologic review necessary to anticipate and prevent flood impacts.

Kentucky: Landslides, Injection, and the 2022 Floods

In eastern Kentucky, where steep terrain and shale formations intersect with intensive energy extraction, the effects of deregulation have been equally severe. The July 2022 floods killed more than 40 people and devastated entire communities.[22] Although extreme rainfall triggered the disaster, post-event analysis revealed that widespread landslides and debris flows were linked to saturated, fractured slopes already destabilized by mining and drilling.[23]

Kentucky’s oil and gas statutes lack robust requirements for cumulative hydrologic impact assessment or subsurface injection monitoring.[24] Because the Halliburton Loophole preempts federal UIC oversight, the EPA cannot require operators to model how injection pressures might interact with groundwater or slope stability. The result is a self-reinforcing cycle: weak regulation leads to altered hydrology, which amplifies natural hazards in already vulnerable mountain communities.

North Carolina: A Lesson in Prevention

Unlike its neighbors, North Carolina has so far avoided widespread fracking. In 2013, the state’s Mining and Energy Commission proposed rules to require chemical disclosure for hydraulic-fracturing fluids, but the effort was weakened by lobbying from industry groups citing trade secret protections.[25] Legal challenges and political shifts delayed comprehensive regulation, leaving the state with only partial transparency requirements.[26] If the Halliburton Loophole persists, any future expansion of fracking in North Carolina will likely proceed without essential hydrologic safeguards or baseline groundwater testing—raising the risk of destabilization and flooding seen elsewhere in the region.[27]

Legal and Policy Implications: Federalism at Its Breaking Point

The Halliburton Loophole undermines the Safe Drinking Water Act’s central goal: safeguarding underground drinking water from contamination and structural damage.[28] In hydrologically connected regions like Appalachia, this exemption threatens not just groundwater but also surface stability and flood resilience. By shifting oversight to states—without adequate funding, technical resources, or consistent standards—Congress created a regulatory blind spot at the intersection of energy development and climate risk..[29] As a result, fracking can move forward in flood-prone areas without federal review of hydrologic risks, cumulative injection pressures, or the interplay between slope geology and extreme rainfall.

Reform and Responsibility: Closing the Loophole for Climate Resilience

Congress should amend the Safe Drinking Water Act to repeal the 2005 exemption and restore EPA authority over hydraulic fracturing fluids under the UIC program. The Fracturing Responsibility and Awareness of Chemicals (FRAC) Act—introduced multiple times since 2009—would close this loophole, mandating chemical disclosure and groundwater monitoring.[30] In addition to reinstating oversight, regulators should embed flood resilience into permitting by requiring hydrologic impact assessments, vegetative buffers, and adaptive monitoring in areas with steep topography or high rainfall.[31] States and localities should implement complementary zoning and stormwater controls in energy fields to prevent destabilization and capture runoff before it collects in hollows. A coordinated federal, state, and local approach is essential to close both the legal and hydrologic gaps.

Ultimately, the Halliburton Loophole exemplifies a breakdown of environmental federalism. It removed crucial oversight precisely where cross-jurisdictional coordination is needed most: in watersheds that span county and state boundaries. In Appalachia, water flows downhill through communities that often lack the political power to challenge upstream industry. The loophole enables private profits while transferring the costs—damaged homes, contaminated wells, and repeated flood recovery—to local taxpayers. Repealing the loophole will not stop the rain, but it would empower regulators to ensure industrial activity no longer exacerbates natural disasters. Water always finds the gaps—and in this case, the most dangerous gap is in the law itself.

[1] Energy Policy Act of 2005, Pub. L. No. 109-58, § 322, 119 Stat. 594, 694 (2005) (codified at 42 U.S.C. § 300h(d)(1)(B)).

[2] Safe Drinking Water Act, 42 U.S.C. § 300h(b).

[3] Id.

[4] Id.

[5] U.S. Env’t Prot. Agency, Permitting Guidance for Hydraulic Fracturing Using Diesel Fuels (Feb. 2014).

[6] Mary Tiemann & Adam Vann, Cong. Rsch. Serv., R41760, Hydraulic Fracturing and Safe Drinking Water Act Regulatory Issues (2015).

[7] Granville G. Wyrick & James W. Borchers, Hydrologic Effects of Stress-Relief Fracturing in an Appalachian Valley, U.S. Geological Surv. Water-Supply Paper 2177 (1981).

[8] U.S. Env’t Prot. Agency, EPA-600-R-16-236, Assessment of the Potential Impacts of Hydraulic Fracturing on Drinking Water Resources (2016) (finding that “limited data availability and lack of consistent monitoring make it difficult to determine the full extent of hydraulic connectivity or subsurface pressure changes resulting from hydraulic fracturing operations”).

[9] Id.

[10] USGS, Water Resources and Shale Gas/Oil Production in the Appalachian Basin (OFR 2013-1137).

[11] U.S. EPA, supra note 8.

[12] Id.

[13] Id.

[14] Marcellus Shale Coal., Recommended Practices: Site Planning, Development and Restoration 7 (2012), https://marcelluscoalition.org/wp-content/uploads/2012/04/Site-Planning-Development-and-Restoration.pdf (listing surface disturbances for well pads, access roads, central impoundments, and pipelines, and recommending erosion and sediment controls).

[15] U.S. Env’t Prot. Agency, Erosion and Sediment Control from Energy Extraction Sites, EPA/600/R-18/041 (2018).

[16] Id.

[17] Martina Angela Caretta et al., Flooding Hazard and Vulnerability: The 2016 West Virginia Floods, 3 Frontiers in Water, 5 (June 2021).

[18] Id.

[19] D.B. Chambers et al., US Geological Survey, SIR 2014-5233, Water Quality of Groundwater and Stream Base Flow in the Marcellus Shale Gas Field of the Monongahela River Basin (2015), https://pubs.usgs.gov/sir/2014/5233/pdf/sir2014-5233.pdf.

[20] Id.

[21] Paul F. Ziemkiewicz et al., Evolution of water chemistry during Marcellus Shale gas development, 134 Chemosphere, 224, 226 (Sept. 2015).

[22] National Weather Service, July 2022 Significant River/Flash Flood in Southeastern Kentucky Summary (2023), https://www.weather.gov/media/publications/assessments/July_2022_Significant_River_Flash_Flood_SE_KY.pdf.

[23]Id.

[24] Ky. Rev. Stat. Ann. . §§ 353.500–353.720.

[25] Halliburton, Fracking, and the N.C. Public Records Act, SmithEnv’t Blog (May 3, 2013), https://www.smithenvironment.com/halliburton-fracking-and-the-n-c-public-records-act/.

[26] Id.

[27] Id.

[28] 42 U.S.C. § 300h(b).

[29] U.S. Gov’t Accountability Off., GAO-14-555, Oil and Gas Regulation: Opportunities Exist to Improve Oversight of Hydraulic Fracturing Activities (2014).

[30] Fracturing Responsibility and Awareness of Chemicals (FRAC) Act, H.R. 2133, 117th Cong. (2021).

[31] Id.

How ICE Raids Impact the Enforcement of Labor Rights for Migrant Farmworkers
By Grace Cunningham

Migrant farmworkers are the backbone of the U.S. agricultural industry, providing essential work from planting and harvesting to caring for livestock. In 2020–2022, only 32 percent of crop farmers were U.S.-born.[1] This workforce faces many vulnerabilities despite the critical role it plays in our food systems. Labor rights protections, such as those provided under the Migrant and Seasonal Agricultural Worker Protection Act (MSPA) and the National Labor Relations Act (NLRA), are designed to safeguard these workers from exploitation.[2] Yet, the increasing frequency of Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) raids have created a climate of fear and uncertainty that render statutory labor protections largely ineffective, revealing a need for immigration and labor policies that prioritize worker safety and rights over punitive enforcement.[3]

Legal Protections for Migrant Farmworkers

The MSPA establishes critical protections for migrant and seasonal farmworkers. This includes requirements for fair wage payment, compliance with work arrangements, and prohibitions on retaliatory actions such as termination, blacklisting, or threats of deportation.[4] These provisions aim to address the inevitable power imbalance between migrant workers and their employers, ensuring that farmworkers can work under safe and nondiscriminatory conditions.[5] Courts have interpreted the MSPA to apply broadly to ensure protection of these workers, regardless of their immigration status. In Phillip D. Bertelsen, Incorporated v. Agricultural Labor Relations Board, the Court held that undocumented status did not preclude farmworkers from receiving backpay.[6] Similarly, in Martinez v. Shinn, the Court upheld damages for wage misrepresentation and retaliation under the MSPA, highlighting the Act’s central role in addressing exploitation of migrant labor.[7] Finally, in Eliserio v. Floydada House Authority, the Court reaffirmed Congress’s intent to make the MSPA accessible to migrant workers by denying a motion to transfer venues.[8] Together, these cases demonstrate the judiciary’s recognition that the MSPA must be construed liberally to ensure meaningful protection for migrant farmworkers.

Similarly, the NLRA extends protections to all “employees,” including undocumented workers, as established in Sure-Tan, Inc. v. NLRB.[9] Although later decisions, such as Hoffman Plastic Compound, Inc. v. NLRB, limited available remedies for undocumented workers, the Court still reaffirmed that they are entitled to the same protection against unfair labor practices.[10] These statutory frameworks create enforceable rights, regardless of immigration status, that ICE raids undermine.

The Impact of ICE Raids on Labor Rights Enforcement

ICE raids disrupt the enforcement of labor rights in several different ways. First, the fear of detention or deportation discourages workers from reporting any labor violations or asserting their rights. This effect is particularly pronounced in industries where undocumented workers make up a significant portion of the workforce. In 2020–2022, the U.S. estimated that 40 percent of all crop farmers were undocumented or lacked legal immigration status.[11] Workers are likely to avoid filing complaints on wage theft, unsafe working conditions, or any other abuses out of fear that it could lead to their deportation.[12]

Second, employers could exploit the threat of immigration enforcement as a tool of retaliation. Employers may report workers to ICE in response to union activity or complaints about labor violations.[13] This directly undermines the protections guaranteed under the MSPA and NLRA. Such practices not only harm the individual workers but weaken the collective efforts to improve working conditions across the industry.

Constitutional Implications

ICE raids raise serious Fourth, Fifth, and Fourteenth Amendment concerns. Warrantless workplace raids raise issues under Camara v. Municipal Court,[14] which require administrative searches to be conducted with the consent of an authorized occupant or pursuant to a judicial warrant. In Noem v. Vasquez Perdomo the Supreme Court temporarily stayed a district court’s injunction that had barred federal immigration agents from conducting stops based solely on race, ethnicity, language, or occupation.[15] The emergency order, issued without oral argument or briefing, effectively allowed these practices to continue, raising significant constitutional concerns. Additionally, the reports of racially discriminatory targeting during raids also implicate the Equal Protection Clause under the Fourteenth Amendment and the Due Process Clause under the Fifth and Fourteenth Amendments.[16] Further, relying on race violates reasonable search and seizure requirements under the Fourth Amendment, as recognized in United States v. Brignoni-Ponce.[17]

Reports of warrantless searches and discriminatory practices during ICE raids further erode trust between migrant communities and the legal system. This erosion of trust extends beyond just law enforcement and to labor advocacy organizations and other institutions that rely on cooperation from workers.[18] By undermining statutory labor protections, ICE raids perpetuate a cycle of exploitation that not only harms migrant workers but also threatens the long-term sustainability of the agricultural workforce.

Protecting Workers, Strengthening the System

The intersection of immigration enforcement and labor rights present complex challenges for migrant farmworkers and the entire agricultural industry. ICE raids exacerbate existing vulnerabilities, undermining the enforcement of labor protections and creating a climate of fear that threatens advocacy and organization.[19] To begin to address these issues, we need to strengthen and enforce legal protections for migrant workers. Strengthening reforms should enhance anti-retaliation provisions in the MSPA and NLRA to prevent employers from weaponizing immigration enforcement.[20] Reforms should also expand U Visas, which provide legal status to noncitizen victims of certain crimes, to cover labor violations, and make T visas, which protect victims of human trafficking, accessible to farmworkers who are exploited, allowing farmworkers to report abuse without fear of deportation.[21] Finally, safeguards against warrantless workplace raids should be enforced.[22] Together, reforms could ensure that migrant workers have a clear legal path to protect their rights. Ensuring these reforms are implemented is essential to protecting migrant workers, upholding labor rights, and sustaining a just agricultural system.

[1] U.S. Dept. of Agric., Econ. Research Service (ERS), Farm Labor, https://www.ers.usda.gov/topics/farm-economy/farm-labor (last updated Sept. 12, 2025).

[2] U.S. Dept. of Labor, The Migrant & Seasonal Agricultural Worker Protection Act (MSPA) (last visited Oct. 12, 2025), https://www.dol.gov/agencies/whd/laws-and-regulations/laws/mspa; U.S. Dept. of Labor, Wage & Hour Div., National Labor Relations Act, https://www.dol.gov/agencies/whd/flsa (last visited Oct. 14, 2025).

[3] Nat’l Employment. Lawyers Ass’n (NELA), NELA Statement on Worksite Raids by U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcementhttps://www.nela.org/nela-statement-on-worksite-ice-raids/ (last visited Oct. 14, 2025).

[4] MSPA, supra note 2.

[5] Id. (stating the purpose of the Act).

[6] Phillip D. Bertelsen, Inc. v. Agric. Labor Relations Bd., 23 Cal. App. 4th 759 (Cal. Ct. App. 1994).

[7] Martinez v. Shinn, 1991 U.S. Dist. LEXIS 10796 (E.D. Wash. 1991).

[8] Eliserio v. Floydada Hous. Auth., 388 F. Supp. 2d 774 (S.D. Tex. 2005).

[9] Sure-Tan, Inc. v. NLRB, 467 U.S. 883, 891–92 (1984).

[10] Hoffman Plastic Compound, Inc. v. NLRB, 535 U.S. 137, 144 (2002).

[11] USDA, supra note 1.

[12] See e.g. Does I–XXIII v. Advanced Textile Corp., 214 F.3d 1058, 1071 (9th Cir. 2000) (recognizing the threats of retaliation, such as deportation, deters undocumented workers from filing complaints).

[13] See e.g. Arias v. Raimondo, 860 F.3d 1185, 1187 (9th Cir. 2017) (highlighting several retaliatory practices where employers contacted immigration authorities to intimidate workers asserting their workplace rights).

[14] Camara v. Municipal Court, 387 U.S. 523, 530–31 (1967)

[15] Noem v. Vasquez Perdomo, No. 25A169, 606 U.S. ____ (2025).

[16] See U.S. Const. amend. XIV, § 1; U.S. Const. amend. V.

[17] United States v. Brignoni-Ponce, 422 U.S. 873, 886 (1975) (holding ancestry alone is insufficient to justify a stop under the Fourth Amendment); see U.S. Const. amend. IV.

[18] NELA, supra note 3.

[19] Id.

[20] Lynn Rhinehart & Celine McNicholas, Shortchanged—Weak Anti-Retaliation Provisions in the National Labor Relations Act Cost Workers Billions, Econ. Pol’y Inst. (Apr. 22, 2021), https://www.epi.org/publication/shortchanged-weak-anti-retaliation-provisions-in-the-national-labor-relations-act-cost-workers-billions/.

[21] Nat’l Immigration Law Ctr., The U Visa and How It Can Protect Workershttps://www.nilc.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/09/How-U-Visa_Can-Protect-Immigrant-Workers.pdf (last visited Oct. 14, 2025).

[22] NELA, supra note 3.

Cruelty for Me but Not for Thee: How Vermont’s Animal Cruelty Laws Could Protect Farmed Animals
By Anthony Corradi

Complaints of animal cruelty in Vermont rarely result in a change to an animal’s status. Voluntary compliance or enforcement via civil or criminal penalties only occur in 21% and 1.3% of cases respectively.[1] There are many reasons for this, including the fragmentation of the law’s enforcement and lack of knowledge as to what constitutes a violation.[2] Cases involving livestock and poultry are even rarer given the deference afforded to accredited animal husbandry practices.[3] Despite these challenges, an analysis of Vermont’s animal cruelty statute shows that Vermont can—and should—enforce a provision of the law to inhibit several common methods of farmed animal confinement.

The Vermont Legislature wrote the animal cruelty statute with the broad purpose of “prevent[ing] cruelty to animals.”[4] Correspondingly, the State should interpret and enforce the law to respect its breadth.[5] The statute states that one commits criminal cruelty when one “[t]ies, tethers, or restrains . . . livestock, in a manner that is inhumane or is detrimental to its welfare.”[6] This provision further exempts “[l]ivestock and poultry husbandry practices.”[7] However, in defining this term, the legislature did not simply defer to common or accepted industry practices. Instead, a three-part conjunctive test requires, in part, that farmers raise animals consistent with “husbandry practices that minimize pain and suffering.”[8] This language creates a powerful exception (to the exception) for farmed animals.

The State need not prove that farmers tying or restraining animals intended to act in a manner detrimental to the animal’s welfare. In State v. Gadreault, the Vermont Supreme Court held that this provision creates a strict liability offense.[9] Thus, Vermont only needs to show that a farmer has voluntarily tied or restrained an animal in a manner that causes harm.[10]

Further, because husbandry practices must minimize pain and suffering to be exempt from the cruelty statute imposes a real limit on acceptable farming techniques.[11] Since the legislature did not define “minimize,” we start with the dictionary definition.[12] The dictionary defines “minimize” as: “to reduce or keep to a minimum,”[13] where “minimum” means “the least quantity . . . possible.”[14] While some may interpret these definitions as only requiring a nominal reduction in pain and suffering, a straight reading requires farmers to take non-cost prohibitive measures to eliminate pain and suffering at any cost. The Vermont Supreme Court has not resolved this ambiguity in the context of the animal cruelty statute, as it has done in other statutes.[15] In those cases, the Court has generally taken the middle route, holding that one meets a mandate to “minimize” when a fact-intensive inquiry shows evidence of reasonable and concrete steps taken to mitigate negative effects.[16]

Accordingly, Vermont could use its current animal cruelty law to prevent several types of on-farm confinement such as battery cages and veal crates. Of special relevance to dairy-loving Vermont, though, is the “tie stall.” Tie stalls are a housing scheme in which farmers confine a cow to a narrow stall by a neck collar and chain.[17] Numbers for Vermont alone are unavailable, but as of 2014 between 20% and 42% of cows were kept in tie stalls in the eastern U.S.[18] These are likely conservative estimates for Vermont as the data also showed tie stall usage increased as herd size decreased.[19]

In a potential criminal or civil enforcement action, the State would need to show that confining a cow in a tie stall is a voluntary act done in a manner that is detrimental to the cow’s welfare. Of course, farmers choose to use tie stalls, and thus the voluntary requirement would generally be irrelevant. The question of the cow’s welfare is only slightly more difficult. Farmers can point to certain benefits of tie stall use that are incidental to a lack of outdoor freedom—such as the reduced prevalence of foot lesions.[20] Conversely, the negative effects of tie stalls are more numerous and arguably more severe. Harmful outcomes include disrupted natural lying behaviors, increased physiological stress levels and injury rates, and decreased emotional states.[21] As farmers and governments alike have concluded from similar observations and data, tie stalls are almost certainly more detrimental to cows’ welfare than not.[22]

Harmful or not, however, tie stalls are an accredited animal husbandry convention. Thus, Vermont would still need to show that the customary livestock practice exception should not apply. Here, the exception is void if the farmers using tie stalls have not taken reasonable actions to mitigate cows’ pain and suffering. Considering the statute’s broad purpose, the State could likely show that any act short of replacing tie stalls with free housing is unreasonable. Even if not, farmers would have to submit evidence of concrete steps taken to reduce the harm of tie stalls. Though less desirable than an outright exclusion, this would still reduce extended or permanent tie stall use as outdoor access is the clearest way to reduce negative outcomes.[23]

The State’s inaction on farmed animal cruelty is not solely due to a lack of legal authority. To the contrary, the Vermont Legislature and Supreme Court has made it clear that the law applies to farmers who do not take reasonable steps to reduce harm. This surely implicates the use of objectively detrimental practices like tie stalls, veal crates, or battery cages without further mitigating action. As a result, Vermont’s prosecutors and courts have a powerful tool—should they choose to utilize it—that could improve the lives of vast numbers of animals.

[1] Vt. Animal Cruelty Task Force, Report to Vermont House and Senate Judiciary Committees 23 (2016), https://legislature.vermont.gov/assets/Legislative-Reports/ACTF-Report-to-Judiciary-2016-FINAL.pdf.

[2] Id. at 22–24.

[3] Id. at 23.

[4] Vt. Stat. Ann. tit. 13, § 351a (2024).

[5] See In re SM Farms Shop, LLC, 2025 VT 33, ¶ 10 (“[O]ur primary goal is to give effect to the legislative intent.”).

[6] Tit. 13, § 352(3).

[7] Id.

[8] Id. § 351(13)(C) (emphasis added).

[9] 171 Vt. 534, 536 (2000) (concluding strict liability offense since punishment not severe and provision lacking intent element other provisions include).

[10] Id. at 537, (holding that “the restraint need only be detrimental” and “the perpetrator’s actions be voluntary”).

[11] See In re SM Farms Shop, LLC, 2025 VT 33, ¶ 10 (“[W]e presume that language is inserted advisedly and that the Legislature did not intend to create surplusage.”).

[12] See Id. ¶ 31.

[13] Minimize, Merriam-Webster Online Dictionary, https://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/minimize (last visited Oct. 21, 2025).

[14] Minimum, Merriam-Webster Online Dictionary, https://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/minimum (last visited Oct. 21, 2025).

[15] See e.g. In re Appeal of Shaw, 2008 VT 29 (analyzing whether tower’s visibility “minimized” as required by zoning ordinance).

[16] Id. ¶ 14–17.

[17] U.S. Dep’t of Agric., Dairy Cattle Management Practices in the United States, 2014, at 4 (2016), https://www.aphis.usda.gov/sites/default/files/dairy14_dr_parti_1.pdf.

[18] Id. at 160, 165 (20% of non-lactating “dry” cows and 42% of lactating “wet” cows).

[19] Id. at 159, 163.

[20] Annabelle Beaver et al., The Welfare of Dairy Cattle Housed in Tiestalls Compared to Less-Restrictive Housing Types: A Systematic Review, 104 J. Dairy Sci. 9383, 9406 (2021), https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S0022030221007177?ref=cra_js_challenge&fr=RR-1.

[21] Id. at 9401, 9406.

[22] Emily Fread, Transitioning From a Tie Stall to a Freestall, PennState Extension, https://extension.psu.edu/transitioning-from-a-tie-stall-to-a-freestall (last updated Aug. 15, 2024).

[23] Beaver, supra note 20, at 9392.

Redlining Is Alive and Well Today
By Dalia Rodriguez-Caspeta

Though redlining was in full force before 1968, its effects are still felt today.[1] The Federal Housing Administration (FHA) oversaw federally supported redlining from 1934 until the 1960s.[2] “FHA staff concluded that no loan could be economically sound if the property was located in a neighborhood that was or could become populated by Black people.”[3] This practice became known as redlining. Over the next few decades, the FHA preferentially distributed loans to new suburban builds over older housing in Black inner city neighborhoods.[4] Redlining neighborhoods was the practice until 1968.[5] In 1968, the Fair Housing Act prohibited the practice of racially segregating neighborhoods through redlining.[6] Yet, the Act failed to combat the effects of redlining as they continue through today.

As a practical matter, redlining is still enforced today through environmental racism. Environmental racism is “the intentional siting of polluting and waste facilities in communities primarily populated by African Americans, Latines, Indigenous People, Asian American and Pacific Islanders, farmworkers, and low-income workers.”[7] It stems from the historical policies that favor “the health, well-being, and consumer choices of white communities,” including redlining.[8] Examples of present day cases of environmental racism are Flint, Michigan’s water crisis; North Dakota’s Access Pipeline; and Louisiana’s cancer alley.[9]

In 1979, nine years after the passing of the Fair Housing Act, Bean v. Southwestern Waste Management Corp. was litigated in Texas.[10] It was the first U.S. lawsuit that brought claims of environmental racism as civil rights violations.[11] Plaintiffs filed a suit contesting the Texas Department of Health’s decision to grant a permit to Southwestern Management to build a solid waste facility in their neighborhood.[12] The plaintiffs claimed that the Department of Health, in granting the permit, was partially motivated by racial discriminatory intent.[13] The solid waste facility was set to be placed 1,700 feet from the local high school.[14] In the end, the court held that the plaintiffs failed to establish a substantial likelihood of success.[15] The court denied the preliminary injunction.[16]

In addition to litigation, researchers have studied the effects of environmental racism in communities of color. Researchers found that “neighborhoods today are a manifestation of a myriad of racist housing policies and practices.”[17] In a study based on the City of Milwaukee, “redlining alone was associated with current lending discrimination . . . and with poor mental and physical health in the City.”[18] Another study found that “poor housing conditions and environmental risks are often clustered in low-income and minoritized neighborhoods.”[19] Further, the results concluded that environmental risks disproportionally affect low income communities of color.[20] For example, low income communities of color “tend to live near major roadways, waste sites, and in areas with less greenery.”[21] Access to green spaces such as “bike lanes, parks, and healthy food stores are less available in neighborhoods with larger proportions of Hispanic and Black residents.”[22]

Historically, environmental justice movements have focused on the “siting of toxic waste dumps, disproportionate burden of pollution, and inadequate regulatory enforcement in low-income communities of color.”[23] Dr. Robert Bullard, a Black scholar, started the environmental justice movement centering the voices of impacted communities in a time when it did not get a lot of support.[24] Dr. Bullard’s wife, Linda McKeever Bullard, represented the concerned community members in Bean v. Southwestern Waste Management Corp.[25] Bullard conducted a study for his wife’s case on the placement of landfills within communities of color.[26] The study became “America’s first ethnographic study to identify neighborhoods in proximity to polluting industries.”[27]

Although redlining has been outlawed, its effects continue to affect low-income communities of color today. Black and brown low-income neighborhoods continue to carry the burden of our past choices as a society.[28] These neighborhoods can be classified as sacrifice zones where communities endure violence perpetuated for the benefit of the dominant population.[29] Sacrifice zones refer to the reality that “environmental harms are concentrated in some places in order to protect the environmental health and sustainability of other places.”[30] The Fair Housing Act of 1968 failed to eliminate the racist effects of redlining. Even today, the effects of racially discriminatory policy practices continue to endanger the health and wellbeing of low-income communities of color.

[1] Redlining, Federal Reserve History (June 2, 2023), https://www.federalreservehistory.org/essays/redlining.

[2] Id.

[3] Id.

[4] Id.

[5] Id.

[6] Id.

[7] What Is Environmental Racism, NRDC (May 24, 2023), https://www.nrdc.org/stories/what-environmental-racism#.

[8] Id.

[9] Id.

[10] Bean v. Sw. Mgmt. Corp., 482 F.Supp. 673, 674 (S.D. Texas 1979).

[11] Yesenia Funes, The Father of Environmental Justice Exposes the Geography of Inequity, Nature (Sept. 20, 2023) https://www.nature.com/articles/d41586-023-02613-6#.

[12] Bean, 482 F.Supp. at 674–75.

[13] Id.at 677.

[14] Id. at 675.

[15] Id. at 677.

[16] Id. at 680.

[17] Emily E. Lynch et al., The Legacy of Structural Racism: Associations Between Historic Redlining, Current Mortgage Lending, and Health, 14 SSM Population Health, June 2021, at 2.

[18] Id. at 7.

[19] Chima Anyanwu & Kirsten M.M. Beyer, Intersections Among Housing, Environmental Conditions, and Health Equity: A Conceptual Model for Environmental Justice Policy, 9 Social Sci.s & Humans. Open, 2024, at 5.

[20] Id. at 4.

[21] Id.

[22] Id.

[23] Id.

[24] Lee McNew, Dr. Robert Bullard, Father of Environmental Justice, Clean Air Council, https://cleanair.org/dr-robert-bullard-father-of-environmental-justice/ (last visited Oct. 11, 2025).

[25] Id.

[26] Id.

[27] Id.

[28] Anyanwu & Beyer, supra note 18, at 2.

[29] See Ryan Juskus, Sacrifice Zones: A Genealogy and Analysis of an Environmental Justice Concept, 15 Env’t Humans. 3, 3 (2023).

[30] Id. at 16.

Border Patrol for Biodiversity: The Global Fight Against Invasive Alien Species
By Katherine Cantor

What comes to mind when you think of international trade? Is it wealthy businessmen and crowded shipyards? A lesser-known threat lurks: countries trade more than goods, they trade invasive species. Humans bringing non-native species into new lands is not new.[1] However, international trade has allowed these invasive alien species to lead ecosystem-altering sieges on foreign lands.[2] Much of the trade in invasive species is unintentional: they sneak across borders as secret seeds, parasites, or stuck on soil.[3] The main pathway for invasive alien species into new countries is through horticulture and the nursery trade, sometimes intentionally.[4]

Invasive alien species (IAS) are species brought to a new place by humans, which allows them to overcome barriers the native species face.[5] Unfortunately, this allows IAS to wreak havoc on native ecosystems.[6] IAS result in monetary harm through changes in nutrient cycling, hydrology, and the ecosystem’s ability to deal with disturbances.[7] Introduction of IAS also leads to significant extinctions. Since the 17th century, “invasive alien species played a significant part ‘in nearly 40% of all animal extinctions’” with known causes.[8] This problem is especially widespread in America. Even disregarding overseas territories, the U.S. has some of the highest amounts of IAS worldwide.[9] Invasive species in the international markets are problematic, so what is being done?

International Regulations on Invasive Alien Species

There are many international treaties relevant to IAS.[10] The primary treaty is the Convention on Biological Diversity (CBD). The CBD states that countries should “[p]revent the introduction of, control or eradicate those alien species which threaten ecosystems, habitats or species.”[11] Unfortunately, while the U.S. signed the CBD, they did not ratify it.[12] The International Plant Protection Convention (IPPC) governs “pests”—species that are injurious to plants.[13] It also governs “quarantine pests”—pests that pose an economic threat to the introduced area.[14] The IPPC also developed International Phytosanitary Measures (IPMs), which set rules preventing the spread of pests in international trade.[15] Because the CBD, IPPC, and IPMs are all international, cooperation across countries and various levels of government is imperative. To aid international cooperation, the IPPC introduced an EPhyto program, where countries can electronically send and receive messages and phytosanitary certificates.[16] 127 countries have adopted the EPhyto program.[17] Under the CBD and IPPC, countries have taken the reigns and established their own regimes to protect against IAS.

Case Studies: What Other Countries Are Doing

America operates a host of programs fighting IAS under the IPPC.[18] The main American program carrying out the IPPC is the Animal and Plant Health Inspection Service’s Plant Protection and Quarantine program (APHIS-PPQ).[19] The APHIS-PPQ works to safeguard “against the entry, establishment, and spread of economically and environmentally significant pests.”[20] America is also a part of NAPPO, the North American Plant Protection Organization.[21] Under both the IPPC and NAPPO, the APHIS-PPQ developed their own set of International Phytosanitary Standards (IPS).[22] One specific IPS aims to prevent IAS from hitching a ride in on imported plants. Under that rationale, the NAPPO implemented a regional phytosanitary measure requiring plant-growers to ensure containment and control of possible pests.[23] This measure poses issues: what constitutes non-compliance and how the standard is enforced are both ambiguous.[24] Working internationally to prevent IAS, America also implemented the International Forestry Cooperation Act.[25] This Act allows support to non-U.S. forests through “prevention and control of insects, diseases, and other damaging agents.”[26] While America has many IAS regulations, the issue has not been diminished.[27]

Across the world, Viwa Island of Fiji is a success story in eradicating IAS.[28] This effort was congruent with the Fijian National Biodiversity Action Plan passed under the CBD.[29] The Action Plan notes concerns with IAS and states that it’s a priority for landowners to “use, manage, or eradicate species” that threaten biodiversity.[30] The Viwa Island plan originally started with the intent to eradicate poisonous and invasive cane toads.[31] After hearing community concerns, the project shifted to feral dogs, cats, and rats.[32] Community members were trained and “involved in all decisions and . . . engaged in the full range of management activities.”[33] Because community members were able to choose the IAS most disruptive to them, they were incredibly engaged.[34] Because of their engagement, all chosen species were completely eradicated.[35] The community has since cited increases in native lizards, birds, and crop yields.[36] Importantly, local communities now have the knowledge and skills to support biodiversity and manage IAS.

The goal of these international laws should be preventing IAS from being transported, rapid detection, and efficient eradication.[37] This necessitates global cooperation and enforcement of current laws. There are also moral questions raised in eradicating IAS that laws have not tackled.[38] While many regulations exist, the problem persists.

[1] Philip E. Hulme, Unwelcome exchange: International trade as a direct and indirect driver of biological invasions worldwide, 4 One Earth 666, 666 (2021).

[2] Id.

[3] Id.

[4] Anna J. Turbelin et al., Mapping the global state of invasive alien species: patterns of invasion and policy responses, 26 Glob. Ecology & Biogeography 78, 78 (2016).

[5] Id.

[6] Petr Pyšek et al., Scientists’ warning on invasive alien species, 95 Biological Revs. 1511, 1512 (2020).

[7] Id.

[8] Vito De Lucia, Bare Nature. The Biopolitical Logic of the International Regulation of Invasive Alien Species, 31 J. Envt’l L. 109, 110 (2019).

[9] Turbelin, supra note 4, at 83.

[10] Id. at 87–88.

[11] Convention on Biological Diversity art. 8(h), June 5, 1992, 1760 U.N.T.S. 79.

[12] List of Parties, Convention on Biological Diversity, https://www.cbd.int/information/parties.shtml. (last visited Oct. 9, 2025).

[13] International Plant Protection Convention, art. 2, Dec. 6, 1951, 4 U.S.T. 1791, 150 U.N.T.S. 67. (2d ed., 2024, at 2–3).

[14] Id.

[15] Adopted Standards (IPSMs), Int’l Plant Prot. Convention, https://www.ippc.int/en/core-activities/standards-setting/ispms/ (last visited Jan. 20, 2026).

[16] IPPC ePhyto Solution, Four Years In, United Nations International Computing Centre (Mar. 15, 2022), https://www.unicc.org/news/2022/03/15/ippc-ephyto-solution-four-years-in/.

[17] Member countries of the Central Asia Regional Economic Cooperation on the road to adopting the IPPC ePhyto Solution, International Plant Protection Convention (Oct. 9, 2023), https://www.ippc.int/en/news/member-countries-of-the-central-asia-regional-economic-cooperation-on-the-road-to-adopting-the-ippc-ephyto-solution/.

[18] International and Regional Plant Health Standards, U.S. Dep’t of Agric., Animal & Plant Health Inspection Serv., https://www.aphis.usda.gov/international-standards/plant-health-standards. (last modified July 30, 2025).

[19] Id.

[20] Plant Protection & Quarantine, U.S. Dep’t of Agric., Animal & Plant Health Inspection Serv., https://www.aphis.usda.gov/plant-protection-quarantine (last modified Sept. 30, 2025).

[21] International and Regional Plant Health Standards, supra note 18.

[22] Id.

[23] Secretariat of the North American Plant Protection Organization, RSPM 24 Integrated Pest Risk Management Measures for the Importation of Plants for Planting into NAPPO Member Countries 6–7 (2013).

[24] Id. at 10–11.

[25] 16 U.S.C. § 4501(b)(1)(D).

[26] Id.

[27] Turbelin, supra note 4, at 83.

[28] Sypmosia, A “Community” Approach to Invasive Species Management: Some Pacific Case Studies, Managing Vertebrate Invasive Species: Proc. of the USDA Nat’l Wildlife Rsch. Ctr. Symp. 29, 31 (2007).

[29] Fiji‟s Actions on IAS, Bioinvasion and Global Environmental Governance: The Transnational Policy Network on Invasive Alien Species 1, 2 https://www.cbd.int/invasive/doc/legislation/Fiji.pdf.

[30] Government of Vanuatu, National Biodiversity Conservation Strategy 21 (1999).

[31] Id.

[32] Id.

[33] Id.

[34] Id. at 32.

[35] Id.

[36] Id.

[37] Pyšek, supra note 6, at 1522.

[38] See Lucia, supra note 8, at 112.

Dam Removal on the Lower Kennebec River: Using Indigenous Stewardship to Heal
By Swithin Shearer

Indigenous populations in the United States are spiritually connected to their land and water.[1] In the U.S., the government’s policies on property ownership, development, and expansion historically deprived Native people of their lands.[2] Federal policies for dam construction were no different.[3] Despite objections from various Tribes based on spiritual, environmental, and ecological concerns,[4] dams were built based on perceived economic benefits.[5] Dam infrastructure is now aging and the government is faced with the choice of removal or repair.[6] Members of affected Tribes have called for dam removal to restore the ecological and environmental balance to the land.[7] Native communities, as the traditional stewards of the land, should be entrusted to manage this environmental rehabilitation process.

Members of Indigenous communities often consider their very identity inextricably linked to their environment.[8] As a result, members of those communities often consider themselves to be stewards of the land.[9] Stewardship ensures Earth’s abundant gifts are available for future generations by taking only what one needs.[10] The goal of stewardship is not to deplete or exploit the land, but to live in harmony with it.[11] For example, the Mi’kmaq Nation[12] live according to the cultural value of netukulimk, which emphasizes the interconnectedness of people and the surrounding world.[13]

Given the deep connection to their environment, it is no wonder that Indigenous populations in the U.S. have suffered when they have been cut off from their native homelands. When Indigenous peoples are separated from their lands, “the impacts are more than physical—they are spiritual.”[14] In a particularly poignant example, 117 of 250 members of the Sayisi Dene Tribe of Canada died within 19 years of being forcibly removed from their traditional lands and relocated elsewhere.[15] Tribal members attributed the deaths to the “despair and the loss of hope and the loss of connection to the land.”[16]

Since our country’s early years, federal policies have forced Tribal communities from their land; the General Allotment (Dawes) Act of 1887 alone resulted in the expropriation of 90 million acres from Tribal Nations.[17] Tribal land was also targeted when the government kicked off an era of dam-building projects in the 19th and 20th centuries.[18] Indigenous populations in the U.S. were dispossessed of another 1.13 million acres as a result of those projects.[19]

The motivations for the large-scale federal dam projects were primarily economic.[20] Some dams were built for hydroelectric power generation, which in turn powered industrial development and metropolitan expansion.[21] Others were built for flood control.[22] Still others were built to provide water for municipal and irrigation uses in the arid West.[23] Regardless of a dam’s purpose, economic benefits were prioritized over environmental and ecological damage.[24] The fact that dam construction severed Indigenous spiritual connections to the land was often outright ignored.[25]

Tribes have sustained lasting injuries from dam construction. They have lost access to lands that held spiritual significance.[26] For example, dams flooded and obliterated sacred burial grounds and villages.[27] Further, Tribal members have been denied treaty-guaranteed fishing and hunting rights (either because the land was permanently flooded or the fish populations were nearly depleted).[28] In addition, ecosystems were damaged to the point that multiple species have been listed as endangered.[29] Spiritual and environmental concerns have led Tribal communities to fight to remove the dams, restore their Native lands, and rehabilitate the damaged ecosystems.[30]

Because of their focus on respect for and protection of land for future generations, Indigenous peoples are well suited to oversee the restoration of damaged ecosystems. Domestic[31] and international[32] programs have helped Native people re-acquire millions of acres of ancestral lands.[33] They are now using their Traditional Ecological Knowledge, rooted in traditional beliefs in stewardship of the land, to heal the ecosystems.[34] Traditional Ecological Knowledge should also guide ecosystem restoration once dams are removed. Indigenous stewardship would effectively restore the ecosystems that were harmed by dam construction and flooding. Returning previously flooded land back to Native stewardship also fits within the broader picture of the Land Back movement, which seeks to restore ancestral lands to Indigenous populations.[35]

The Nature Conservancy recently reached an agreement to take over and eventually decommission four major dams along the lower Kennebec River in Maine.[36] The Wabanaki Nations were displaced by those dams.[37] One of The Nature Conservancy’s long-term goals in acquiring the dams is to “help reestablish cultural and physical connections between the Wabanaki Nations and the Kennebec River.”[38] Another goal is to restore fish populations that used to thrive in the Kennebec River.[39] If the Nature Conservancy can connect those two goals by placing the Wabanaki Nations at the forefront of the restoration process, the environment will benefit. It will also take a step towards addressing the wrongs of the past by reconnecting the Wabanaki Nations with their ancestral lands, so they can heal together.

[1] Rhiannon Johnson, Water is sacred to Indigenous people. They have been fighting to protect it for decades, CBC Radio (Apr. 24, 2023), https://www.cbc.ca/radio/unreserved/water-is-sacred-protecting-1.6818685#; Killa Atencio, Netukulimk: The Mi’kmaq Way of Life, Asparagus Mag. (Dec. 18, 2020), https://www.asparagusmagazine.com/articles/netukulimk-is-the-mikmaq-way-of-living-in-harmony-with-nature.

[2] See Johnson v. McIntosh, 21 U.S. 543 (1823).

[3] See Heather Randell & Andrew Curley, Dams and Tribal Land Loss In the United States, 18 Env’t Rsch. Letters, no. 9, 2023.

[4] Gene Johnson, Northwest dams have devastated the region’s Native tribes, U.S. government acknowledges, PBS (June 18, 2024, 6:09 PM), https://www.pbs.org/newshour/politics/northwest-dams-have-devastated-the-regions-native-tribes-u-s-government-acknowledges.

[5] David P. Billington et al., The History of Large Federal Dams: Planning, Design, and Construction in the Era of Big Dams 386–87 (U.S. Dep’t of the Interior Bureau of Reclamation ed., 2005).

[6] Randell & Curley, supra note 3, at 7.

[7] Bala Sivaraman, Klamath River Dam Removal Is a Victory for Tribes, Earthjustice (June 3, 2024), https://earthjustice.org/article/klamath-river-dam-removal-is-a-victory-for-tribes.

[7] Billington et al., supra note 5, at 383; Sivaraman, supra note 7.

[7] Sivaraman, supra note 7.

[8] Atencio, supra note 1.

[9] Alex Hager, The Colorado River is this tribe’s ‘lifeblood,’ now they want to give it the same legal rights as a person, KUNC (Aug. 20, 2025, 6:00 AM), https://www.kunc.org/news/2025-08-20/the-colorado-river-is-this-tribes-lifeblood-now-they-want-to-give-it-the-same-legal-rights-as-a-person.

[10] Atencio, supra note 1.

[11] Id.

[12] The Mi’kmaq are one of four main Wabanaki Nations in Maine; the other three are the Houlton Band of Maliseet Indians, the Passamaquoddy Tribe, and the Penobscot Nation. Who We Are, Wabanaki Alliance, https://www.wabanakialliance.com/who-we-are/ (last visited Oct. 12, 2025).

[13] Atencio, supra note 1.

[14] U.S. Dep’t of the Interior, Ten Years of Restoring Land and Building Trust 2012-2022 iii (2023). Deb Haaland, former Secretary of the Interior, went on to say that the impacts of being separated from the land “manifest deep in our bodies and in our hearts, and they have lasting and inter-generational consequences.” Id.

[15] Johnson, supra note 1.

[16] Id. (internal quotations omitted).

[17] U.S. Dep’t of the Interior, supra note 14; National Park Service, The Dawes Act, https://www.nps.gov/articles/000/dawes-act.htm (July 9, 2021).

[18] Billington et al., supra note 5, at 20, 278–80; The Dawes Act of 1887, Pub. L. No. 49-105, 24 Stat. 388 (1887).

[19] Randell & Curley, supra note 3, at 1.

[20] Billington et al., supra note 5, at 386–87.

[21] Id.

[22] Id. at 224, 356, 371.

[23] Id. at 386.

[24] Id. at 387–89 (stating the focus of the big dam era was “the desire to control nature and manage its resources” to protect the man-made environment).

[25] Snake River Dams in Context: Past, Present, and Future, Columbia Riverkeeper (Apr. 24, 2025), https://www.columbiariverkeeper.org/2025/snake-river-dams-in-context-past-present-and-future/; see Johnson, supra note 1.

[26] Johnson, supra note 4.

[27] Id.

[28] Snake River Dams in Context: Past, Present, and Future, supra note 25.

[29] Id.; Johnson, supra note 4.

[30] The Federal Government Is Finally Acknowledging How Columbia River Basin Dams Have Harmed Tribes, Earthjustice (June 27, 2024), https://earthjustice.org/brief/2024/the-federal-government-is-finally-acknowledging-how-columbia-river-basin-dams-have-harmed-tribes; Johnson, supra note 4; Sivaraman, supra note 7.

[31] U.S. Dep’t of the Interior, supra note 14, at 1.

[32] Jim Robbins, How Returning Lands to Native Tribes Is Helping Protect Nature, YaleEnvironment360 (June 3, 2021), https://e360.yale.edu/features/how-returning-lands-to-native-tribes-is-helping-protect-nature.

[33] U.S. Dep’t of the Interior, supra note 14, at 1; Robbins, supra note 32.

[34] Robbins, supra note 32.

[35] Dan Gunderson & Melissa Olson, The latest on the Land Back movement, in which Native American tribes reclaim land, NPR (Sept. 18, 2024, 6:01 PM), https://www.npr.org/2024/09/18/nx-s1-5091001/the-latest-on-the-land-back-movement-in-which-native-american-tribes-reclaim-land.

[36] The Nature Conservancy and Brookfield Reach Deal for Four Lower Kennebec River Dams, The Nature Conservancy (Sept. 23, 2025), https://www.nature.org/en-us/newsroom/kennebec-river-restoration/.

[37] Restoring Balance to the Kennebec River, The Nature Conservancy, https://www.nature.org/en-us/about-us/where-we-work/united-states/maine/kennebec/ (last visited Oct. 12, 2025).

[38] Id.

[39] Id.

All Politics is Local: Vermont Municipalities Can and Should Take the Lead in Driving Vermont to Achieve Energy Goals
By Aidan Sitler

The Vermont State legislature has made it easier for thermal energy networks to emerge as a viable option for clean heating and cooling in the State. The State set goals to lower energy costs and reduce greenhouse gas emissions in the Global Warming Solutions Act.[1] Currently, Vermont is expected to fall short of attaining these goals.[2] One of the best pathways for Vermont to achieve the target set in the Act is for towns to lead the efforts and establish municipally owned thermal energy networks.

Why Thermal Energy Networks?
Thermal energy networks “use a shared network of water-filled pipes that transfer heat in and out of buildings.”[3] Thermal heating and cooling systems work by exchanging heat with the constant temperature below Earth’s surface to regulate the temperature inside the buildings.[4] Thermal energy networks use a heat pump connected to the underground network of pipes. [5] The pipe’s water stores heat regulated by the in-building pumps.[6] The pumps regulate heat as a sink to absorb excess heat during the summer months, and act as a heat source during the colder winter months.[7] The more buildings connected to the same network, the more efficient the exchange and stronger the system.[8] Thermal energy networks can replace traditional heat methods that rely on fossil fuels, such as natural gas, and traditional cooling methods that rely on inefficient air conditioning.[9] In addition to replacing these methods entirely, thermal energy networks can co-exist with traditional heating and cooling methods as a way to supplement the majority of the energy needed to run them.[10] Local municipalities benefit from the build-to-scale model for outfitting neighborhoods and existing infrastructure with thermal energy networks.[11]

Why Local Municipalities?
The design and scale of thermal energy networks are what make them ideal for local municipalities to implement and control. Traditionally, in Vermont, any entity wanting to establish a thermal energy network would have to obtain a certificate of public good.[12] The Vermont Public Utility Commission requires a certificate of public good to begin construction.[13] Obtaining a certificate is a lengthy application process that requires many procedural obstacles, reducing a project’s chance of success.[14] Because thermal energy networks are a way of distributing heat among citizens, they would normally be subject to the control and regulations of the public utility commission.[15]

Recently, Vermont enacted Act 142, which changed regulations surrounding public utilities.[16] A major change in the Act is that local municipalities no longer require a certificate of public good or permission from the public utility commission to establish and operate a thermal energy network.[17] The Act now allows municipalities to “have the authority to construct, operate, set rates for, finance, and use eminent domain for thermal energy networks . . . .”[18] This change creates opportunities for municipalities in Vermont to greenlight construction on thermal energy networks. The benefits from the Act for the municipalities include foregoing the application process and regulation from the public utility commission. The benefits from the Act for the citizens come in the form of reduced rates, energy efficiency, and having a voice in their energy needs.

Rate decreases for users in a thermal energy network are reflected in the efficiency of the system. As the network becomes more efficient, the municipality will be able to save on energy costs. These savings can then be passed down as lower rates for every user of the network. Thermal energy networks can also ensure fixed rates for users as they are not subject to traditional fluctuations in cost.[19] These fluctuations occur from the natural gas global market, supply chain, or fuel transportation fees.[20] Instead, thermal energy networks rely on local resources to effectuate heating and cooling.[21]

Citizens will also have opportunities to go directly to the town with concerns and feedback on how their thermal energy network is functioning. This creates a more local, hands-on experience for users of the energy networks in voicing their needs. Inclusion is important for creating an equitable energy system, which is more difficult to do when citizens must navigate the public utility structure.[22] The local management of the thermal energy networks allows for a greater ease of access and accountability in the operations.

For Vermont to get back on track and achieve its goals of lowering energy costs and reducing its greenhouse gas emissions, there needs to be a greater push at the local level. Municipalities are in a unique position to be the best fit owners of a thermal energy network, both within the logistical and regulatory frameworks surrounding the networks. It is time for Vermont towns to take advantage of this new exemption and begin implementing thermal energy networks to address the energy concerns in the State.

[1] 10 V.S.A § 578(a).

[2] Austyn Gaffney, State concludes Vermont is failing to meet its carbon reduction targets, vtdigger, (July 22, 2025), https://vtdigger.org/2025/07/22/state-concludes-vermont-is-failing-to-meet-its-carbon-reduction-targets/.

[3] Thermal Energy Networks, BDC, (Sep. 15, 2025), https://buildingdecarb.org/resource-library/tens.

[4] Geothermal Heat Pumps, U.S. Dep’t of Energy, (Sept. 16, 2025), https://www.energy.gov/energysaver/geothermal-heat-pumps.

[5] Id.

[6] Id.

[7] Id.

[8] Reyna Cohen et al., Understanding Thermal Energy Networks, Cornell Univ. (2024), https://www.ilr.cornell.edu/sites/default/files-d8/2024-12/understanding-thermal-energy-networks.pdf.

[9] Id. at 16.

[10] Id. at 12.

[11] Id. at 15.

[12] 30 V.S.A. § 248(a)(2)(B).

[13] Certificate of Public Good, VEPP, (Sept. 15, 2025), https://vermontstandardoffer.com/standard-offer/request-for-proposals/certificate-of-public-good/.

[14] Id.

[15] Reyna Cohen et al., Understanding Thermal Energy Networks, Cornell Univ. (2024), https://www.ilr.cornell.edu/sites/default/files-d8/2024-12/understanding-thermal-energy-networks.pdf.

[16] 30 V.S.A. § 231(d).

[17] Id.

[18] Id.

[19] Cohen et al., supra note 15.

[20] Id. at 12.

[21] Id.

[22] Certificate of Public Good, supra note 13.

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