Rejecting the Apocalypse
Summer is winding down, but extreme heat, devastating summer floods, and wildfires are still on the increase. I went camping with my family in Yosemite last week. We swung by the breathtaking Tenaya Lake, a large lake surrounded by dramatic granite cliffs and domes in the high country. But the closer we got, the denser the smoke from nearby wildfires became. The water of the lake was a flat, gleaming steel blue, reflecting the smoke, and the air was thick. Undeterred, families swam and paddled, and my dauntless 10 year old leapt in. The scene was beautiful but unnerving. “The apocalypse is gorgeous,” said one of my children. “This is either the last scene in a tragic movie, or the first scene in a dramatic one,” said another.
Indeed. Which is it to be? We’ve seen promising action on a number of fronts lately. The Inflation Reduction Act, for all its many, many flaws, is predicted to cut America’s greenhouse emissions by 40 percent from the 2005 peak by 2030. Recent successful California bills commit the state to reaching net zero carbon emissions by 2045, establish oil and gas drilling setbacks of 3,200 feet from homes and sensitive uses, and support nature-based carbon drawdown methods. In addition, California just adopted a groundbreaking rule to ban the sale of new gasoline cars by 2035, a move likely to be followed by a dozen other states, comprising up to one third of the United States auto market. California is not alone. Massachusetts just passed a significant new climate bill that will drive transition in its transportation, electricity, and building sectors; Maryland recently established a net zero goal of 2045, a green bank, and climate equity setasides; and cities and states across the country are adopting bold climate policies.
Nonetheless, these measures are clearly inadequate. Signs of the severity of the climate crisis and its immediate harms to vulnerable communities are all around us. Massive unprecedented floods killed dozens of Americans this summer, displaced families, and crippled water infrastructure; successive recordbreaking heat waves have scorched communities, threatened health, and caused energy grid stress; drought and wildfires are destroying habitat and homes across the West; and a massive fish die off is occuring in the San Francisco Bay.
Many of the new policies being adopted include specific provisions, programs, or investments intended to benefit Black, Brown, indigenous, and low-income communities. But we’re also seeing a refusal to adopt crucial policies that are key priorities for the environmental justice and climate equity movements. California’s Justice 40 bill, which would have ensured significant funding for these communities, was killed in committee. Core climate solutions that benefit low-income communities and communities of color, such as significant expansion of public transportation, are absent from these climate policies. Even worse, federal and state policy are placing heavy reliance on climate approaches that will perpetuate exposure to carcinogens and toxic pollutants in vulnerable communities, such as carbon capture and sequestration and extensions to the life of nuclear plants.
This is a freeze frame image of the United States – in crisis, taking significant action, pushed to include long-abused communities, and not doing enough. But this story is still getting started. California environmental justice advocates fought unsuccessfully for years to achieve oil and gas drilling setbacks – until the power and influence they were building enabled them to finally win. As supporters tweeted, “This is a testament to the hard work of frontline community organizers and allies across the state who called, tweeted, wrote and promoted to make the will of the people known!” Across the country, there is a powerful wave of passion and determination swelling as our movements grow, infused with the energy and conviction of young people, environmental justice communities, labor, climate coalitions, mobility justice advocates, and more. There are many fights ahead, but we won’t let things end here.