ELI Report
Author
Akielly Hu - Environmental Law Institute
Environmental Law Institute
Current Issue
Issue
5

National Wetlands Awards Digitally recognizing five exemplary stewards of country’s natural history and heritage

ELI’s National Wetlands Awards are presented annually to individuals who have excelled in wetlands protection, restoration, and education. The winners are selected by a committee composed of experts from around the country, including representatives from each federal supporting agency, the conservation and business communities, and state and local governments.

What is usually a moving ceremony held on Capitol Hill was instead conducted digitally this year.

Full descriptions of each award winner are at www.elinwa.org.

Award for Business Leadership. Russell J. Furnari is the manager of environmental policy enterprise for Public Service Enterprise Group and serves as chairman of the New Jersey Corporate Wetlands Restoration Partnership. The NJCWRP is a unique public-private collaborative focused on restoring, preserving, enhancing, and protecting aquatic habitats throughout New Jersey.

Through Russ’s leadership and commitment, the partnership has experienced extraordinary success and is considered a model for similar groups across the nation. Since its inception in 2003, NJCWRP has raised more than one million dollars in contributions and pledges of in-kind services from its corporate partners, NGOs, and academia. NJCWRP’s projects are located throughout New Jersey and have aided in the preservation of more than 724 acres and 35 stream miles.

One project, the Upper Wallkill Watershed Riparian Restoration and Floodplain Reforestation Initiative, aims to restore a degraded section of the Wallkill river while educating the next generation of students engaged in environmental protection. With the help of 200 middle and high school students, the first phase of the project resulted in the restoration of 4.5 acres of habitat and improved surface water quality. When completed, the entire project has the potential to restore more than 60 acres of vital habitat.

According to his supporters, Russ’s work building partnerships among diverse interests, identifying and successfully generating funding, and guiding projects through myriad approval processes have been critical to NJCWRP’s success. Russ exemplifies the importance of having strong support from the business community in helping to sustain and enhance wetlands and the environment for the future.

Award for Youth Leadership. Sonja Michaluk is a research scientist, writer, environmental educator, and founder of a genetics and microbiology lab. At 17 years old, Sonja has been a certified water monitor since she was six and has advocated on behalf of wetlands since she was 11.

Between 2014 and 2020, Sonja contributed to the preservation of over 50 acres of ecologically sensitive wetlands and wildlife corridors in central New Jersey. Her data also helped minimize the impacts of a natural gas pipeline. These research results, submitted to the New Jersey Department of Environmental Protection, as well as Sonja’s testimony to the Federal Energy Regulatory Commission, helped save 1,800 trees and mitigated damage to waterways.

Sonja has been honored for her work locally and internationally. She was called a “Force of Nature” by Friends of Hopewell Valley Open Space, served as a keynote speaker at The Alliance for Watershed Education’s River Days event, and has been praised by the New Jersey Senate and General Assembly and acknowledged by the New Jersey governor. Before the pandemic, she was flown to Sweden to represent the United States at World Water Week and at a climate change symposium. Her research has been published in the Encyclopedia Britannica, and she has presented at numerous conferences and was featured in films about climate change and the environment.

Sonja’s supporters say her familiarity with freshwater ecology and the ease with which she explains scientific concepts to others make her an effective teacher. She has been educating the public about wetlands conservation and water monitoring for over ten years.

Sonja’s current work includes a project to preserve 200 acres of threatened wetlands and old growth forest in Princeton, New Jersey, in collaboration with Ridgeview Conservancy and the Watershed Institute.

Award for Wetlands Program Development. Lauren Driscoll has been committed to wetlands conservation and restoration for more than 25 years.

Lauren has managed the wetlands program at the Washington State Department of Ecology since 2005. In her position, she advances the agency’s role in the protection of wetland resources throughout the state. This includes ensuring statewide consistency in implementation of the Clean Water Act Section 401 water quality certifications for wetlands, developing and delivering technical tools and science-based guidance, and providing expert technical assistance to local wetland regulators. Lauren also mentors wetland technical staff across the state and secures grants for wetlands program activities.

Lauren’s expertise in wetland policy and mitigation has substantially strengthened the state’s work in these areas. She played a major role in establishing the state’s wetland bank certification program, and continues to provide oversight for Washington’s wetlands compliance and wetland banking programs.

Lauren’s work often serves as a model for other programs across the country. For example, she oversaw the development of Washington’s first EPA-approved Wetland Program Plan, a six-year strategy that formalizes program development and provides a longer-term vision for the state’s wetland management. Washington’s approach to the plan inspired several other states. Similarly, Lauren worked with the state’s interagency Voluntary Stewardship Program committee to create a coordinated and comprehensive statewide stewardship approach that serves as a national model.

Lauren has worked tirelessly to not only strengthen wetlands protection in her own state but also to actively engage in national planning and decision-making. These efforts include coordinating the state’s response to several federal rulemakings, such as the Navigable Waters Protection Rule.

Lauren’s supporters describe her as a skilled communicator who can bridge the gap between policymakers and scientists, and engage with an often diverse and divisive state legislature. Through her outstanding communication and leadership, Lauren has managed to keep the wetlands program intact by demonstrating its importance even during lean economic times.

Her dedication and expertise have earned her the respect of colleagues across the country.

Award for Local Stewardship. Wenley Ferguson has spent the last 31 years working for Save The Bay, an environmental nonprofit organization in Providence, Rhode Island, where she now serves as director of habitat restoration.

Throughout her career, Wenley has partnered with federal, state, and local entities to advance projects that restore and enhance coastal and estuarine habitats and improve community resilience, working tirelessly to bring projects from conception to implementation and adaptive management.

Wenley is a leader in identifying and assessing climate change impacts to coastal wetlands within Rhode Island and southeastern Massachusetts. She is also an expert in advancing new and emerging restoration and management approaches in the southern New England region.

Wenley and her Save The Bay colleagues were the first to identify the drowning of otherwise healthy coastal marshes in Rhode Island due to sea level rise. Using a monitoring and assessment program developed by Save The Bay and state partners, two of these marshes were identified as especially vulnerable to accelerated rising waters. Wenley worked tirelessly with local, state, and federal partners to restore the drowning marshes and build their resiliency to climate change.

As a leader in her organization and community, Wenley is involved in all facets of coastal restoration projects. She is consistently on the ground assessing project success, adaptively managing projects, developing community engagement and outreach strategies, and supporting student researchers. Active in local education, Wenley has also led volunteer teams to engage local communities and advocates about the importance of conserving marsh migration corridors. She collaborates with local researchers and has contributed to several peer-reviewed publications related to coastal marsh conditions and restoration.

Award for Promoting Awareness. Xavier Cortada is an artist and professor of practice in the University of Miami’s Department of Art and Art History. For 15 years, Xavier has creatively harnessed the power of art to motivate fellow Miami-Dade County residents to learn about, conserve, and restore mangrove wetlands.

Xavier’s highly innovative eco-art projects include a volunteering project that encouraged neighbors to build up climate change resiliency by growing salt-tolerant mangroves in their yards. He also created the nation’s first underwater homeowner’s association to address the threat of rising seas and saltwater intrusion into a community’s freshwater aquifer.

One of Xavier’s most notable eco-art initiatives is the Reclamation Project, which aimed to engage “eco-emissaries” in rebuilding ecosystems above and below the waterline. Volunteers installed meticulously arranged grids of mangrove propagules in water-filled cups in the street-facing windows of local restaurants and shops. Passersby, intrigued by the displays, often asked for more information or read the accompanying information about mangroves. When the propagules matured, volunteers replanted them in a community ritual reclaiming the water’s edge for nature.

Xavier repeated the project annually for six years, reaching roughly 200,000 people. To date, the project has engaged over 10,000 volunteer participants, helping to restore 25 acres of coastal habitat.

After 2012, the Miami-Dade County community assumed responsibility for the project. It continues today through volunteers at the Frost Science Museum, in public schools county-wide, and in communities across Florida and beyond who have emulated Xavier’s project.

Newest Winners of ELI’S National Wetlands Awards.

Of Walls... and Windows
Author
Scott Fulton - Environmental Law Institute
Environmental Law Institute
Current Issue
Issue
3
Scott Fulton

“For everything there is a season,” says the old Pete Seeger song, quoting the much older still book of Ecclesiastes. It seems that we are currently in the season of walls. The physical manifestation of this particular period may be the issue of the wall on our southern border. But there are other walls, and some of them have law as their concrete or steel.

In some instances, law is designed to operate as a barrier. In other circumstances, law operates more like a window with a screen, allowing things to pass through, but in a controlled way. Most of our environmental laws are designed to operate like the latter. But what happens when they operate like walls instead of windows?

This is on my mind coming off a gathering of environmental thought leaders at the Wingspread Retreat Center in Racine, Wisconsin — a collaboration by ELI and George Washington Law School around the idea of “reimagining environmental law.”

A good deal of discussion centered around an important new book just published by ELI Press entitled Legal Pathways to Deep Decarbonization in the United States. The book is premised on the idea that while a number of technologies and other methods are available to achieve radical reductions in greenhouse gas emissions, there are numerous impediments to implementing these technologies and methods at the necessary scale and speed. >Legal Pathways is an effort to identify these impediments and devise ways to overcome them.

Essentially a playbook for policymakers and lawyers, the book outlines over 1,000 recommendations or law-based pathways for reducing U.S. greenhouse gas emissions by at least 80 percent from 1990 levels by 2050. This 80x50 target is often described as “deep decarbonization,” in the sense that it would require systemic changes to the United States’ energy economy.

While the book is a bit of a beast (around 1,000 pages), and while the scale and complexity of deep decarbonization are enormous, the book has a fairly straightforward message: deep decarbonization is achievable in the United States using laws that exist or could reasonably be enacted.

So, on this question of walls versus windows, there was a particularly spirited debate at the Wingspread event about how to deal with the use of federal statutes like the National Environmental Policy Act and the Endangered Species Act, as well as state counterpart laws, to fuel local opposition to wind and solar projects. The concern behind the debate was that the energy transformation needed to respond to the climate challenge is being impeded in part by use of these legal tools.

Even when local opposition can ultimately be overcome, such opposition can slow project progress and, because of delay or other risk factors, put project financing and viability at risk. The net of this is a fairly slow progression to our energy future. For those who see rapid transformation of our energy system as pivotal to a successful climate change mitigation strategy, the rub is obvious.

It was fascinating to hear a group of lawyers who would likely in any other circumstance be staunch defenders of NEPA and the ESA questioning out loud whether these statutes should yield in the face of the climate dilemma. How should local environmental impacts be balanced against a mega-challenge like climate change? If the environment nets out to the positive through transformation to more renewable energy, should this be a sufficient response to localized environmental opposition? If, as climate scientists suggests, broader biodiversity collapse may attend anticipated changes in temperature, should incidental taking of species at the hands of wind or solar projects be seen as an unavoidable necessity? If there is a need to open the window more fully, how should that be accomplished?

Exceptions to these laws could be created, but this may be difficult to do in a way that does not open the door to other efforts to work around these foundational statutes for other kinds of development without compensating environmental positives.

Are there ways to use the existing framework so that the values of public engagement, alternatives analysis, and mitigation of localized impacts are honored rather than abridged? Could we, for example, frame up the broadest programmatic EIA in history, with the United States’ energy transition serving as the “major federal action” under review? Could a nation-wide EIS and wildlife conservation plan fashioned around such a review serve to overcome, legally and politically, local opposition to wind and solar projects?

As you can see, the event at Wingspread brought forward more questions than answers about whether and how to open the window, but the questions always come first.

Scott Fulton on law as a window and law as a wall.

Most Green New Deal Advocates See Hope in New Policy Dynamics
Author
David P. Clarke - Writer and Editor
Writer and Editor
Current Issue
Issue
3
David P. Clarke

In declaring himself as a Democratic presidential candidate, Washington Governor Jay Inslee announced that climate action would be his top priority and declared, “This is our moment.” But is it?

Certainly, 2019 began with welcome activity around the issue. In the House, Democrats established a new Select Committee on the Climate Crisis to underscore the issue’s urgency. And at its first hearing on global warming in six years, the new chair of the environment and climate change subcommittee, New York’s Paul Tonka, hailed “the issue of our time” and touted previous calls for a moonshot program to transform the energy system. Over in the Senate, the Energy and Natural Resources Committee discussed revamping the electricity sector, its first climate hearing since 2012.

Most ambitiously, on February 7 Representative Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez (D-NY) and Senator Ed Markey (D-NY) introduced matching resolutions recognizing a federal duty to create a transformative Green New Deal. H. Res. 109 has 89 cosponsors and S. Res. 59 has 11. While nonbinding, the resolution has become the most widely discussed topic amid a flurry of climate-related activity.

Where will this momentum lead? Adoption of a Green New Deal is unlikely for now, says Rob Cowin, director of government affairs for the Union of Concerned Scientists’ climate and energy program. But, he says, the important point is that the Green New Deal is part of an undeniable new dynamism both in the field and in Congress that has “created a space” for lawmakers to have meaningful dialogue on climate change. With new momentum, near-term opportunities have opened up to make significant progress over the coming two years on a number of key building blocks necessary to comprehensively tackle climate change, Cowin says. Depending on results of the 2020 elections, more ambitious long-term measures could build on currently attainable shorter-term steps.

A low-carbon energy future will require modernizing the U.S. grid, Cowin says. He cites opportunities for major progress in areas “critical to climate outcomes we’re hoping for.” Those include grid flexibility to add more clean power capacity, energy storage, improved transmission, and others.

Moreover, members of Congress are talking about the need for climate-resilient infrastructure as a result of worsening storms, fostering a bipartisan convergence among lawmakers. Notably, leaders in both the House and Senate committees responsible for energy issues have abandoned climate denial. In March, Senators Lisa Murkowski (R-AK) and Joe Manchin (D-WV) both underscored the impacts from human-induced climate change and are calling for more innovation and grid modernization.

But climate deniers remain adamant. EPA Administrator Andrew Wheeler says contaminated water is a greater global crisis than climate and that the Green New Deal would “sink the U.S. economy.” John Shimkus (R-IL) acknowledges that climate change “presents risks,” but he nevertheless cites an International Energy Agency analysis in asserting that fossil and nuclear energy will be the dominant global fuels through 2040 and “likely beyond,” even as wind and solar increase. And, as expected, President Trump’s 2020 budget proposal seeks yet again to slash EPA funding and the Energy Department’s clean energy program.

The Green New Deal’s prospects diminished in mid-March after the AFL-CIO sent a letter to Ocasio-Cortez and Markey opposing their resolution on the grounds that it could harm jobs and was “not achievable or realistic.” Earlier, during Senate floor debates, Republicans brandished claims that the Green New Deal would cost as much as $94 trillion, a sum the Democrats hotly disputed.

Although the current momentum will not “get us all we want in one enchilada,” says UCS’s Cowin, smaller but “absolutely significant” steps toward climate solutions are definitely possible in this Congress. Besides grid modernization, the tax code presents another opportunity for bipartisan progress. Many Republicans come from states that have benefitted from pro-growth wind and solar investment tax credits, and an offshore wind industry is emerging with enormous potential to add clean, renewable capacity to the grid. Although wind and solar tax credits might not be extended outright, some policymakers are exploring tax code measures to support a technology-neutral, low-carbon approach, according to Cowin.

Clearly, climate will be a major topic in Congress this year and is already emerging as an important 2020 presidential issue. If it does figure in the election, it would be the first time the environment has been a dominant topic in a national campaign.

Most Green New Deal advocates see hope in new policy dynamics.

Taking a Risk on Resilience
Author
Ann Goodman
Current Issue
Issue
3
Taking a Risk on Resilience

We had all been warned that Hurricane Sandy might hit New York City. I had candles and a flashlight on hand, and, ever since the attacks on the World Trade Center 11 years earlier, I kept canned food in a kitchen cabinet. So the few hours of intense wind and rain were no problem, even after the lights went out.

The next morning, however, there was still no electricity in downtown Manhattan. Most buildings had no water. Public transportation was down. Fortunately, my phone was still charged and the cellular system was functioning on standby power, so I called my friend on the Upper East Side, where apparently they still had electricity. I walked all 75 blocks north.

One of Citibank’s downtown buildings at its headquarters two miles from my apartment had flooded. Many of its New York City-based employees couldn’t get to work, since there was limited transit and many streets were under water. Officials worried how long ATMs that had power would have sufficient reserves — just when customers most needed cash to pay merchants without functioning registers or credit systems that depend on the internet and phone lines. However Citi was able to mobilize quickly because its leadership had developed comprehensive continuity-of-business plans to enable it to meet the needs of its customers and communities, even in the event of a natural disaster of unprecedented impact.

Long a leader on environmental, social, and governance issues, Citi’s ESG efforts, as in many companies, had started in the sustainability office. One effect of Sandy was that awareness and engagement of issues like climate change and its effect on the bank and communities — its customer base — quickly spread to other functions in the company, including operations in far-flung locations.

In 2015, CEO Michael Corbat committed $100 billion over 10 years to finance climate resilience throughout the bank’s global activities. He stated at the time that the investment is not about philanthropy nor does it represent an add-on cost — it is integral to the firm’s business and its ability to serve its customers and make a profit in the future.

Later that year, during COP 21, where the Paris Agreement would be signed at the meeting’s conclusion, I bumped into Citi’s managing director and global head of corporate sustainability in the Metro. I told Val Smith that I was pleased that, as did so many other companies at the seminal meeting of world leaders, Citi had pledged support for the accord.

A year later, Donald Trump was elected president and announced he would pull the United States out of the agreement. But as the federal government began to walk back on so many aspects of climate policy, companies, along with states and cities, often working together, organized to fight a threat they see as threatening their future. The $6 trillion We’re Still In coalition of many such entities and other collaborations are creating a new approach to leadership on environmental policy in the absence of guidance from Washington.

There has been a political shift. Business, especially finance, was once viewed with considerable skepticism in environmental circles, but companies are becoming increasingly responsive to all stakeholders — their consumers, employees, suppliers, investors, and the communities they serve and in which they operate — on environmental and social matters. And by all accounts, climate activism by leading corporations is increasingly popular in the public mind and among business leaders.

Executives have concluded that if they don’t adapt, their firms likely can’t survive. As I saw the day after Sandy hit during my long trek up through Manhattan, a company can’t do business if its facilities aren’t functioning, if its employees can’t get to work, if it can’t transport its products to market. Recognizing the need for business continuity can be a first step toward protecting operations by lowering emissions and otherwise boosting environmental performance. The key to future prosperity for a business is for its stakeholder base to be healthy in all senses of the word. And businesses are responding.

CEOs like Michael Bloomberg support more action from business. So do shareholders. “The world needs your leadership,” investor Larry Fink of BlackRock wrote in his latest annual letter to CEOs. “As divisions continue to deepen, companies must demonstrate their commitment to the countries, regions, and communities where they operate, particularly on issues central to the world’s future prosperity.”

The second day after the storm, I trekked back south to Greenwich Village to find power was still out. Everyone in my building was huddled in the lobby with flashlights, food, and a backup generator. Many neighborhoods were still flooded, along with medical facilities. On Wall Street, financial institutions were still suffering, including the stock market, which was shuttered.

As did those companies facing an operational crisis, many of us in my neighborhood during and immediately after the hurricane rediscovered our fundamental selves: walking versus taking the subway; heating water (for those who had it) on a gas stove to wash; lighting candles to read; sharing necessities like food. It was a watershed moment when even a billionaire living on the 38th floor was humbled because elevators didn’t work.

Wandering around Union Square, I saw that utility companies had driven trucks in from all over to help out at the disaster scene. One such company was telecommunications provider Sprint. Like Citi, Sprint was already primed on sustainability issues, including climate, in fact winning prizes for its efforts. That preparation was partly the result of experiencing earlier calamities, some related to climate, including storms, fires, tornadoes, and earthquakes, after which the company continually made adjustments. As one of the first on the scene after Sandy, Sprint brought years of lessons learned — not least of which by its emergency response team — to the crisis at hand and began to restore phone and internet connections.

I had long been working on the intersection of business and environment, especially climate change. To a former editor of a financial magazine, carbon markets and corporate innovations were tremendously important, especially since I saw how they might set us on a less destructive path — while boosting the economy. Inspired by Sandy and the example set by leadership companies, I wrote Adapting to Change: The Business of Climate Resilience, published in 2016 by Business Expert Press. Firms are taking action on climate, I wrote, highlighting how they are preparing for more weather disasters, modifying products and services — and recognizing potential new markets.

In researching the book, I learned that Citibank had suffered even more than I saw in the storm’s aftermath. The bank lost $10 million in flood damage alone. Citi was by then already a widely respected sustainability leader, but Sandy rallied employees — from local and international operations, to the investment branch, to energy finance, to risk management. So when its CEO made that huge financial commitment to climate resilience, it was an affirmation of corporate will from bottom to top. Since then, other banks, including JP Morgan Chase, Bank of America, and HSBC, have made similar commitments. It’s one thing to learn from a crisis and another to take a risk on resilience before the real lesson hits hard, as it surely will.

Not that individuals, or companies, can anticipate all possibilities. As we all started to recover after the immediate crisis in the days after the storm, our attention turned to the future and how we might better prepare and insure ourselves from the worst. Governor Andrew Cuomo announced that Sandy had cost New York state citizens $32 billion in damages and loss. Sadly, in a lot of places affected by Sandy the cost of insurance, reflecting increased climate risk, has since been going up — if it is offered at all.

The insurance business has begun responding to climate risk. To this industry, risk is bread and butter. Insurers have great understanding of how to aggregate, analyze, and anticipate risk. That knowledge may deter them from coverage. Or it may prod an insurer into action if it calculates risky corporate moves may pay off against a greater climate change risk of not acting now.

The Hartford, the venerable property and casualty insurer, has learned over many years that the risk involved in forward thinking — and hence current action — can protect against far greater risks likely to come. Like Sprint, The Hartford was already attuned to potential climate disasters before Sandy, having been on the front lines of such crises. The company had partially insulated itself from such underwriting risks, along with taking measures to mitigate its own carbon emissions and changing its investment portfolio to reflect climate risks. These moves, as in the case of Sprint, had won it accolades.

The firm paid out $706 million in weather-related catastrophe loss claims the year Sandy struck. And the storm briefly threatened the company’s headquarters, heightening its awareness and reconfirming the firm’s commitment to mitigate climate change risk. The insurer continues to encourage customers through incentives to prepare for and alleviate such risks. Then, in addition to its investment in a company specializing in electric vehicle charging infrastructure, The Hartford installed charging stations for use by employees who drive to work and introduced an insurance product to promote adoption of electric cars by its customers. Significantly, the company was among the first to insure wind and solar plants in the United States. The firm offers nearly a dozen products for individual and corporate customers to encourage emissions reductions.

A few weeks after Sandy, my block association held one of its regular meetings. Some neighbors thought we might better prepare for what we saw as more frequent such events. We could organize in advance, find ways to communicate with others in the neighborhood, and take leadership to be a resilient community.

In preparation, we did everything right, including letting the association’s head know that we’d like to discuss resilience to crises at the next meeting, which she thought was a good idea. As we suspected, at the meeting neighbors who had lived through the storm concurred it was a good initiative. But then a powerful person on the board said: “I don’t want to be my brother’s keeper.” And that was the end of our effort.

As I learned from this experience, bolstered by my research, one of the biggest hurdles to climate action is collaboration for the collective good. I conclude in the book that we understand climate change well enough and have sufficient means at hand to reduce it. Yet what seems to hold us back is a persistent inability to work well together, within individual organizations but particularly among the diverse groups involved in the fight against climate change — government agencies, private companies, non-profit organizations, law firms of many kinds, consultancies, think tanks, universities — all of which have important roles to play in finding solutions.

But I am optimistic. I am inspired in part by the story of IBM’s work on climate resilience following Sandy. The company brought together multiple parties, plenty of data analytics — but also basic tools, like talking — to further mutual goals. Emphasizing communications is part of the company’s effort to establish environmentally proactive supply chains with other companies around the world. And it also stretches to its consulting with cities and other localities — a showcase is its work after Sandy on eastern Long Island.

Whatever the motives, including self-preservation and profit, there is a changing business imperative — toward ingenuity, responsibility, and alignment of corporate aims with those of the larger population, which likewise seeks positive alternatives to political, legal, and economic pressures that ignore, even harm, the interests of people and enterprises alike. We all depend on people and enterprise; without them, we languish, and that’s the risk of not being resilient. TEF

TESTIMONY ❧ After witnessing Hurricane Sandy’s assault on the Mid-Atlantic region in 2012, I wrote a book on the business response to climate change. From what I observed, there is nothing like a calamity to awaken an understanding of threats and the need for anticipation and preparation.

Foiling the Resource Curse
Author
Lisa Dale - Columbia University Earth Institute
Columbia University Earth Institute
Current Issue
Issue
3
Foiling the Resource Curse

Sustainable development — the buzzword for humanitarian aid organizations, assistance agencies, academics, and conservation groups — is facing an identity crisis. The term was introduced into the mainstream in the 1987 Brundtland Commission report. It famously urges intergenerational equity as a guiding principle for economic development. Adding environmental and social supports to the traditional economic leg of the development stool, the commission argues that advancement based on all three legs will not only provide long-term stability but will in effect raise the height of the seat. To improve humanity’s lot on a bountiful planet, the challenge, then, of sustainable development involves reconciling seemingly contrary goals, of ensuring that each leg truly supports the stool.

The 2015 Sustainable Development Goals capture our current rendition of the concept. An update themselves to the Millennium Development Goals, which were established in 2000 as a tool for focusing international attention on less-advanced countries, the 17 SDGs are more comprehensive and offer a decisionmaking framework that applies to all countries, rich and poor. Critics are quick to note that the SDGs are in no way legally binding. They aren’t a treaty. Indeed, the UN-brokered SDGs don’t compel countries to do anything at all. They are voluntary, with aspirational targets such as “no poverty” and “gender equality.”

No single goal can be seen to be more or less important than the others, and in the absence of an admittedly impossible prioritization scheme, sustainable development effectively can mean all things to all people.

Further confounding the operationalization of the SDGs is climate change. While the SDGs include “climate action” as one of the 17 goals, in fact today we understand the concept of sustainable development almost entirely within the context of a warming planet. As the complex dynamics of development in a carbon-constrained world have emerged, the very notion of whether it is possible to have sustainable development is at stake.

But perhaps there is no other time in recent history that better reminds us how important statements of shared priorities can be. They may lack legal force, but the SDGs represent nothing less than agreed-upon principles for human advancement. They help focus broad efforts that are invariably under-resourced by offering touchstones to guide trade-offs. And they provide a mechanism for flagging actions that don’t meet the standards. Countries with wildly different approaches to economic development and politics now routinely integrate language from the SDGs to align their efforts with global norms.

But to be useful on the ground, the SDGs must be subject to place-based analysis. Without field-testing, we might value the shared set of concepts but cannot assess whether in fact the goals are actionable and achievable. The discovery of a massive natural gas deposit off the coast of Mozambique presents a compelling case study. As part of an inter-disciplinary team of students and researchers from Columbia University’s Earth Institute, I had the opportunity to visit the country in 2018.

The Republic of Mozambique is a former Portuguese colony located along Africa’s southern Indian Ocean coastline, across from the island of Madagascar. The country achieved independence in 1975, and 16 years of civil war followed. Reconstruction efforts ushered in a period of rapid growth, both economically and politically. The new constitution, established in 1990, created democratic political structures, and subsequent amendments emphasized a decentralized system, with local elected provincial assemblies. Perhaps as a consequence of this recent political upheaval, institutional development has lagged. The Ministry of Land, Environment and Rural Development was created only five years ago.

Most Mozambicans rely on rain-fed subsistence agriculture for survival, with an estimated 25 percent of GDP coming from that sector. International donors have largely funded the country’s economic growth; one outcome of this support is high levels of national debt. While natural resources are abundant, with more than a thousand miles of coastline supporting fishing and trade, poverty remains the persistent reality for more than half of the citizenry. Fully 70 percent of the country’s 29 million residents live in rural conditions, with an estimated literacy rate of 58 percent nationwide. Women and those who live far from the capital city of Maputo are especially unlikely to have any formal education beyond primary school. Health care is similarly scarce. The country ranks among the poorest in the world.

In 2014, geologists discovered 85 trillion cubic feet of natural gas in the Rovuma Basin off the coast of northern Mozambique. In addition, there are known oil deposits that include the Pande and Temane fields, with exploration that began during colonial times and has continued in earnest since independence. The new gas discovery has sparked international interest; Anadarko is now leading a consortium of global energy companies in exploring and developing the vast deposit. Plans include extraction, onshore processing, and an industrial mega-zone located in the remote far northern region of the country.

The company has drafted a lengthy and detailed environmental impact assessment, but questions remain. Among the most pressing is whether the public will benefit from the discovery of such valuable resources along their country’s coastline. If new energy resources can be a trigger for improved livelihoods and a more resilient national development pathway, then we might see progress toward the SDGs. But historical evidence cautions that when an impoverished country is the site of abundant petroleum, the opposite happens.

Decades of study on the resource curse has yielded some consistent results that planners in Mozambique would do well to remember as they chart a different path. In the short term, a sudden spike in mineral wealth can trigger violence. Civil conflict frequently persists when such wealth is concentrated in the hands of elites at the expense of workers. Ongoing violence in Sierra Leone has accompanied the profitable diamond trade there. Nigeria’s oil abundance is similarly paired with persistent militant activity. Not coincidentally, prominent and bloody incidents of terrorism in the northern region of Mozambique have accompanied the early stages of infrastructure for natural gas development in the country.

Over the longer term, researchers find a strong correlation between mineral wealth and a decline in democracy. Revenue from extractive industries tends to support incumbent leaders, and that can be a stabilizing force. However, in countries with fragile governments, resource wealth often erodes democratic institutions and leads to autocratic rule. Today, 23 countries generate more than 60 percent of their exports in the form of oil and gas; none of these are stable democracies. Wealthy nations like the United Arab Emirates have clearly benefitted from their reliance on minerals, but the growth strategy that stems from oil abundance has rendered democracy a non-starter. Newer democracies and countries with high corruption profiles fare especially poorly. Sub-Saharan Africa in particular has been a veritable showcase for the resource curse, as recently independent countries find themselves ill-equipped to juggle the myriad indirect impacts associated with resource wealth.

Mineral abundance also correlates with declining performance on a range of indices that track human development and sustainability. Sudan, the Democratic Republic of the Congo, and Gabon are just a few of the most well-known examples. In each of those cases, the country is a major exporter of valuable minerals, and all rank high in corruption and low in literacy, health care, education, and lifespan.

How can Mozambique do better? The resource curse is not a monolith, and policymakers have learned some valuable lessons over time. Still, easy solutions don’t exist. Despite the extensive literature on the causes and outcomes of the curse, very little attention has been devoted to solutions. Without identifying the resource curse explicitly, the SDGs provide potential guidance. Most directly, SDG #7 identifies affordable and clean energy as key. Indirectly, several other goals form a nexus with the challenges facing Mozambique. For example, SDG #9 urges innovation and industrial growth; SDG #11 seeks sustainable communities; and SDG #14 focuses on life below water, clearly a matter of concern for off-shore energy development and fisheries.

Within the scientific literature generally and the SDGs explicitly, one place of agreement is that institutions are key. Resource-rich democracies provide a useful guidepost. In Norway, for example, a stable system has fostered a durable institutional structure. No resource curse has befallen the oil-soaked European nation; to the contrary, Norwegians enjoy some of the highest incomes in the world. Citizens are among the happiest on Earth.

As the foundation of a legal and policy framework, institutions need to reflect national values like an intolerance for corruption, support for the rule of law, and a priority for capacity building. Civil society — already weak in Mozambique, as in many newly democratic states — should find safe avenues for participation. Local governments are especially critical for community services when a national government is captured by industrial triumphalism; they should be empowered. Since steady revenue from minerals tends to insulate national governments from accountability — especially when it eliminates the need to tax residents — Mozambique will need to be particularly attentive to opportunities that can expand the authority held by local administrators.

Some research suggests that strong property rights can help to fortify residents against the negative effects of industrial dominance. Mozambique’s Land Law, passed in 1997, retained ownership of all land in the hands of the national government. Residents are granted use rights, and notably the law explicitly recognizes customary rights. While this provision is a victory for indigenous groups, who may hold land for generations without legal title, it is likely to be insufficient in the face of nationally backed industrial mandates for expansion. The vast majority of small-holders in the country still lack formal title to their land.

While property rights and strong institutions can meaningfully contribute to sustainable development, most of the solutions to the resource curse can be found in transparency. With an eye toward improved accountability, the argument for transparency suggests that government watchdogs and civil society can provide an essential check on centralized power only if governments and the private sector are forced to showcase their actions. Today, many transnational companies acknowledge the importance of transparent operations; in this instance, Anadarko has already completed the massive environmental assessment and made it publicly available. But still the challenges are deep, complex, and inextricable from the promise of new mineral wealth.

For example, how much of the new energy resource should remain in domestic hands rather than be exported? Can an influx of natural gas improve energy availability in a rural country with a nearly non-existent power grid outside of its urban cores? Some have argued that a more sustainable approach to energy development might mean leap-frogging a traditional grid designed for fossil fuels entirely, in favor of focused development for local renewable sources like solar and wind.

Today, most communities rely heavily on charcoal for cooking and heat. One outcome of this widely available fuel source is deforestation. Also worrisome are well-documented negative health impacts associated with breathing indoor air over a charcoal stove. Many communities in northern Mozambique avoid exposure by cooking in communal kitchens that are located outside the main dwellings. Still, switching to propane, which can be developed from the rich natural gas deposits — it is a favored rural fuel in the United States — would seem to be an appealing choice.

But our visit to the area revealed some unexpected reasons for persistent charcoal preferences. One explanation is cultural. Families that have cooked over wood and charcoal stoves for generations simply don’t trust propane (or natural gas). Generalized unfamiliarity combined with a sharp fear of explosions has rendered many communities reluctant to consider the fuel source. Another reason is financial. Many families can’t afford to buy an entire tank of gas at once, but since charcoal can be sold in much smaller units, they can purchase enough to cover immediate needs. These forces are rational and deep-seated, and should not be misunderstood to mean rural residents are hostile to modernity. At one roadside charcoal stand, my traveling team saw the business owner charging his flip phone in the corner through a small-scale solar battery charger.

Sustainable infrastructure development necessitates attention to these multi-layered and inter-disciplinary dynamics. For the incoming energy companies, there are both structural and non-structural elements. Climate change has altered the planning landscape in myriad ways, rendering new development risky in ways traditional engineers might not grasp. The Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change defines risk as a function of hazard, exposure, and vulnerability. Hazard refers to a physical event like a flood. Exposure highlights assets of value, including communities that may be in harm’s way. Vulnerability offers a measure of how susceptible the location is to harm. For energy companies seeking to build new large-scale infrastructure on Mozambique’s coastline, sea-level rise presents a clear hazard for the new construction and its investors. Meanwhile, local communities are already highly vulnerable. Early speculation about industrial development has focused on the likelihood of mangrove destruction during the building phase. Should that come to pass, the elimination of natural buffers will further expose low-lying villages to inundation. Sustainable development here means careful consideration of these dynamics, including focused investments that can improve local resilience and reduce vulnerability.

Operationalizing sustainable development ideals in the context of rural Mozambique illustrates the many ways in which countervailing forces can undermine even the best intentions. If engineers want to ensure resilient infrastructure development in the face of projected sea rise and amplified disaster risk, they need to have access to current, place-based science and an ability to apply it to every phase of planning and construction. Representatives from Exxon — part of the consortium descending on the country to participate in the natural gas boom — told me their assessment of risks is based largely on past climate patterns and data, not on anything that projects likely future hazards. Insufficient site-specific data impair every element of Exxon’s analysis, and what limited data the company does have are not easily integrated into planning. Simply put, energy firms and government planners lack both access to data and the human expertise to apply them and modify plans accordingly.

Longer-term sustainability requires built-in monitoring and evaluation along with the human capacity to respond to new technical information. Governments need to establish indicator systems, informed by local knowledge, feeding iterative results into ongoing operational reforms. Throughout, actions should address distributive justice and improve equity. In a place like Mozambique, independent for only 44 years, these already daunting process goals must be pursued thoughtfully to avoid validating existing power structures through neocolonialism.
Already, institutions such as the African Development Bank have tremendous control over allocating scarce resources within the country; any influx of new foreign money will, by default, flow mostly to the elite, who then take on the tasks of planning for the entire nation. This pattern disempowers the masses and imposes a western model on an African land base.

These non-structural concerns tend to have more to do with process than outcomes. Strong, transparent leadership, robust stakeholder involvement, and a focus on capacity building are attributes of governance for sustainability. But those are guidelines that only have value if they are deployed in pursuit of larger, more concrete objectives like improved health care or more vocational training. Even when governance is transparent and the process includes opportunities for public involvement, an illiterate, dispersed, rural population has limited avenues for meaningful participation.

As the expected industrial footprint overlaps existing communities, incoming energy companies have also had to consider planning for resettlement. Anadarko’s preliminary EIA includes a draft resettlement plan for 2,733 individuals in 743 households. Among the principles driving this analysis is a stated commitment to the internationally recognized free, prior, and informed consent standard. Those who are likely to be displaced as new energy infrastructure spreads are promised compensation and even improved living standards. But subsistence farmers in remote Mozambique may not have the same metrics as Anadarko planners for what amounts to better conditions.

When we visited subsistence fishermen, they told us the biggest challenge they face is the roving hippos and crocodiles in the lagoon where they fish. Nobody mentioned a need for better education or health care, and broader national economic development seemed irrelevant. And yet, we know quite clearly that sustainable development planning will not control the predators that threaten their daily catch. This is an important disconnect, as it highlights the gulf between what centralized development planners know and what locals experience. Resettlement planning faces this same gulf. If new settlements do in fact offer dramatically different facilities than what is otherwise available in the region, moving a sub-set of the local population into those dwellings risks exacerbating inequities and potentially creating a migratory crush. Such development initiatives are not sustainable, and in fact may result in increased social conflict.

As countries scramble to adapt to early impacts of a changing climate, they often discover that those efforts have unintentionally negative byproducts. The term malad-
aptation refers to a range of ill-conceived climate change responses. Building a new sea wall to guard against rising oceans, for example, may mean an intensive construction project that itself emits greenhouse gases, thereby exacerbating the problem. If that sea wall serves to protect high-value infrastructure, the project may thereby leave lower-income communities at risk. In this way, maladaptation can serve to intensify existing vulnerabilities and even create new ones. Resettlement planning is particularly susceptible to these perils. Dismantling local villages to move residents into sparkling new modern settlements would be both jarring and inappropriate; but, perhaps the alternative is equally problematic. Moving villagers into replicas of their current homemade huts, perhaps with a new plot of land for farming, also does little to advance the region and consigns those individuals to a life of subsistence, all while surrounded by massive oil wealth.

Part of the challenge is the spatial and temporal mismatch that characterizes much of environmental policy. Spatially, our political and administrative boundaries do not align with the way resources are distributed in the landscape. Temporally, our natural resources do not obey a lifecycle that aligns with politics — an officeholder with a limited term to govern a designated territory will face powerful disincentives to impose costs associated with long-term benefits. There is also an element of urgency. Many impoverished countries can’t wait for a decade of environmental analysis before new services are made available, and yet we know that rushing development yields unsustainable results.

What is happening in Mozambique offers a case study in how implementing the ideals contained within sustainable development can be tricky. Solutions may have to come in reconceptualizing what we mean by the term. The all-encompassing Sustainable Development Goals succeed when they remind us that the challenges facing Mozambicans are interconnected. An energy or mineral discovery may open doors to improved education, reduced poverty, and enhanced environmental protection. But without dutiful and rigorous attention to both process and outcomes, such improvements are unlikely. TEF

CENTERPIECE ❧ Mozambique faces the destabilizing influence of sudden mineral wealth as it simultaneously grapples with adapting to climate change. Can the principles of sustainable development guide communities toward equitable, resilient outcomes?

New Book Arms Policymakers, Lawyers, Private Sector With Tools to Combat Climate Change in the United States
March 2019

Washington, D.C.: With Democrats and Republicans arguing over the virtues and pitfalls of a Green New Deal, and with President Trump’s latest budget proposal cutting many environment- and energy-related programs, climate change policy in the United States is as divisive as ever. But a comprehensive new resource from leading climate attorneys released Monday lays out a myriad of legal pathways available to policymakers at every level of government and in private governance to reduce greenhouse gas emissions.

The Global Climate Change Talks Are Moving On — and So Am I
Author
Robert N. Stavins - Harvard Kennedy School
Harvard Kennedy School
Current Issue
Issue
2
Robert N. Stavins

It has been 15 years since I began writing this bimonthly column offering an economic perspective on the environment. Over that time, I have come to focus more and more — in my research, my teaching, and in this column — on the ultimate environmental policy challenge faced by the United States and, for that matter, the world, namely the threat of global climate change. I say this because of two dimensions of the science of climate change, each of which leads to profound economic implications, and thus to great political challenges.

First, greenhouse gases mix in the atmosphere, and so the location of emissions has no effect on impacts — climate change is a global commons problem. Any jurisdiction taking action incurs the costs of its actions, but the climate benefits are distributed globally.

Therefore, for virtually any jurisdiction, the climate benefits it reaps from its actions are less than the costs it incurs, despite the fact that the global benefits may be greater — indeed much greater — than the global costs. This presents a classic free-rider problem, which is why international, if not global, cooperation is essential.

Second, there is a temporal dimension that takes us from science to economics to politics. Greenhouse gases accumulate in the atmosphere, lasting more than 100 years in the case of carbon dioxide, and the damages are a function of the stock (accumulated concentrations), not the flow of emissions. The most severe consequences of climate change will be in the long term, but climate change policies and the attendant costs of mitigation will be up front.

This combination of up-front costs and delayed benefits presents a great political challenge, given that the incentive in democracies is for elected officials to give benefits to today’s voters, and to place costs on future generations. The climate problem asks politicians to do precisely the opposite.

Together, the global commons nature of the problem plus this temporal asymmetry make climate change an exceptionally difficult political challenge, possibly without precedent. It is for this reason that I have increasingly turned my attention to policies to address this problem.

In my final message to you, I will reflect briefly on the most recent international negotiations intended to reduce the risk of a fundamentally changed climate.

During two weeks of boisterous plenaries and energetic backroom meetings, the 197 members of the 24th Conference of the Parties of the UN Framework Convention on Climate Change, meeting in Katowice, Poland, in December, sought to reach consensus on rules and guidelines for implementing the 2015 Paris Agreement. The fault lines at the Katowice negotiations were, as usual, largely between two groups: the 43 industrialized countries, and the 154 developing nations.

At the end, consensus was reached on a 156-page rulebook, which represents a transition from an expression of global solidarity in the Paris Agreement to a set of practical mechanisms that can deliver results.

Was this a success? There were dozens of aspects of the Paris Agreement on which the delegates to the Katowice meetings wanted to make progress by filling in details in the skeletal 2015 accord, but one area stood out: transparency, which refers to the credibility of each nation’s measurement of its own performance ­— in terms of its emissions and its policies.

The Paris Agreement gave significant wiggle room to the 154 developing countries by granting them great flexibility in this regard. But in Katowice, a remarkable consensus was achieved that all countries will follow uniform standards for measuring emissions and tracking the achievement of their respective targets.

Conceivably, this could make it easier for the Trump administration to remain in the Paris Agreement (if the president were to become convinced that such action would be politically advantageous in the run-up to the 2020 presidential election). And, likewise, it will make it easier for a future administration of either party to rejoin the agreement if the current president follows through on his promise to withdraw. That is a significant achievement.

Of course, any firm judgment of the ultimate success of the Katowice talks on climate change — and more important, the success or failure of the Paris Agreement — will depend upon future negotiations and upon the actions of individual countries in addressing this global problem. The climate negotiations will continue, as will my work in this realm, but — in my case — in venues other than these pages.

The global climate change talks are moving on — and so am I.

Reports Say Dire Effects Will Be Starting Soon. How Can the Economy Quickly Shed Carbon?
Author
Joseph E. Aldy - Harvard Kennedy School
Ann Carlson - UCLA/Emmett Institute on Climate Change and the Environment
John C. Dernbach - Widener University
Mary Nichols - California Air Resources Board
Anne Pramaggiore - Exelon Utilities
Mike Quigley - House of Representatives Sustainable Energy and Environment Coalition
Harvard Kennedy School
UCLA/Emmett Institute on Climate Change and the Environment
Widener University
California Air Resources Board
Exelon Utilities
House of Representatives Sustainable Energy and Environment Coalition
Current Issue
Issue
2
Reports Say Dire Effects Will Be Starting Soon. How Can the Economy Quickly Shed

With the influx of new members of Congress in January, suddenly everybody is talking about a Green New Deal that would address greenhouse gas emissions and a bunch of other social ills via a suite of related policy instruments. Proponents are talking about ridding the American energy economy of carbon, and on a short timeline — perhaps by 2030. Even before the recent change in Congress, policymakers and stakeholders had been talking about what has come to be called deep decarbonization. A benchmark proposal calls for eliminating at least 80 percent of greenhouse emissions by mid-century, with further reductions to follow.

The Trump administration’s National Climate Assessment released in November predicts global warming will soon have a significant impact on the American economy. A few weeks earlier, the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change forecast severe effects starting in the next 10 to 20 years — and getting worse thereafter — and argued for a maximum temperature increase over pre-industrial levels lower than the 2 degrees Celsius established in the 2015 Paris Agreement. The White House’s plans to withdraw from the accord and to roll back regulations aimed at reducing greenhouse gas emissions are the exact opposite of what these reports conclude is required.

Into this policy void have stepped a number of key players who are advocating a rich array of approaches, with the Green New Deal being merely the most famous one. A group of conservative leaders have proposed a carbon tax, an idea endorsed by many academic economists, including 2018 Nobel Laureate William Nordhaus. States such as California, Hawaii, and most of the Northeast have charted their own path toward removing carbon from their energy systems. And the private sector has begun to innovate, with power companies announcing ambitious emission goals, including some planning to go 100 percent carbon-free, and car companies like Tesla and Volvo giving up internal combustion engines.

This Debate in Print concentrates on the U.S. energy system and asks, How should public policy move forward to promote the decarbonization of the American economy? And what blend of law, economics, science, and technology will get the job done?

With the influx of new members of Congress in January, suddenly everybody is talking about a Green New Deal that would address greenhouse gas emissions and other social ills via a suite of interlinked policies. Proponents are talking about ridding the American energy economy of carbon, and on a short timeline — by 2030.

Climate and Controversy
Author
Joel B. Stronberg - The JBS Group
The JBS Group
Current Issue
Issue
2
Climate and Controversy

There are few public forums to debate the causes and consequences of climate change where the participants won’t find themselves mired in a political maelstrom. On the federal level, where national policies are worked out, partisan gridlock in Congress has taken the legislative branch of government out of play. The current administration has by acts and deeds indicated it has no intention of combatting climate change — quite the opposite. That leaves the fortunes of U.S. climate policies largely dependent upon the composition of the courts, the branch that is concerned only with matters of law and immune from politics.

Carbon emissions in the United States and other big economies like China, India, and elsewhere are on the rise. According to the Trump administration’s Fourth National Climate Assessment, released in November, neither global efforts to mitigate the causes of climate change nor regional efforts to adapt to the impacts currently approach the scales needed to avoid substantial damage to the U.S. economy, our natural heritage, and the health and well-being of Americans. The conclusions reached by the 13 federal agencies and 300 scientists contributing to the assessment reflect the overwhelming consensus of the science community. They affirm the October report of the UN’s Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change, which set the maximum safe level of warming at only 1.5 degrees Celsius.

Both reports emphasize the urgent need for government action. They identify — with a high degree of confidence — the costly consequences of climate change. These include not only more frequent and intense weather events but also higher rates of morbidity and mortality and lost jobs and investment opportunities in industries affected by carbon emissions, such as fishing, farming, forestry, and insurance.

As the U.S. government fails to put in place policies to combat global warming and adapt to its repercussions, the courts are emerging as the preferred venue in which to debate climate science free of partisan bias and bickering. Citizens are calling for action, and the number of climate-related lawsuits is increasing globally, and nowhere more than in the United States. The cases fall into four broad categories. Some would force government to increase (or some decrease) regulatory oversight and enforcement of existing laws. Others characterize climate change as a rights-based issue. Still others seek to establish climate change as a financial concern. And a final category of cases are designed to contribute to the public debate about the changes to the Earth’s climate system. Naturally there is some overlap, but these distinctions are useful in evaluating the judiciary’s response to global warming.

The most common climate-related cases brought before the courts in the United States continue to be those questioning government regulatory actions involving emissions from coal-fired power plants. Challenges to government regulatory actions have been bidirectional. Obama’s aggressive efforts to combat climate change and protect the environment prompted fossil fuel interests, for instance coal mine operators, to challenge the government’s regulatory authority under existing legislation such as the Clean Air Act, Clean Water Act, and Endangered Species Act. Plaintiffs in the Trump era, however, are predictably suing to prevent the administration from rolling back existing regulations.

Regulatory litigation relies heavily on court precedents, particularly the Chevron doctrine establishing judicial deference to expert agencies, as well as conformity with the Administrative Procedure Act’s requirements for proper notice and public input, and interpretation of legislative language to yield enumerated or implied agency authority. Science in these types of cases plays more of a supporting role. In Massachusetts v. EPA, for example, the Supreme Court was asked in 2007 if the Environmental Protection Agency has the authority to regulate emissions of greenhouse gases from new motor vehicles.

It was the Court’s opinion that EPA is obligated under the CAA to regulate auto emissions which in the administrator’s “judgment cause[s], or contribute[s] to, air pollution . . . reasonably . . . anticipated to endanger public health or welfare.” The Court directed the agency to reconsider its conclusions — although the majority opinion left little doubt about the dangers of vehicle emissions. “The harms associated with climate change are serious and well recognized,” the Massachusetts court said. “The government’s own objective assessment of the relevant science and a strong consensus among qualified experts indicate that global warming threatens, inter alia, a precipitate rise in sea levels, severe and irreversible changes to natural ecosystems, a significant reduction in winter snowpack with direct and important economic consequences, and increases in the spread of disease and the ferocity of weather events.” Still, the Court’s instructions to EPA were to consider whether the above events rise to the threshold required to make an endangerment finding under the CAA and the basis for any regulation of the vehicle emissions at issue. That has left combating climate change up to the political branches, which have been deadlocked on the issue for decades.

Into the breach, a new class of cases claiming the right of citizens to a habitable environment is gaining entrance into state and federal courts, and other cases are inviting the judiciary to be more involved in resolving the controversies surrounding climate change. After all, the Constitution grants to the courts the power and ability to decide “cases and controversies,” and that is exactly what is happening here.

In 2015, a U.S. district court judge in Oregon granted standing to 21 youthful plaintiffs claiming that future generations have a substantive right to be protected from the ravages of climate change under the Due Process Clause of the Constitution. The youths fault the government for inaction in the face of hard evidence. The relief sought by the plaintiffs is science-based policies and regulations to mitigate the impacts of global warming.

The case, Juliana v. United States, has survived multiple attempts — including two before the Supreme Court — to have it dismissed as a political question. Administration attorneys contend that EPA is charged with regulating greenhouse gas emissions, and the court’s intervention confounds the separation of powers on which our political system is based. The case is back before the Ninth Circuit Court of Appeals after the trial judge certified the government’s request for an interlocutory appeal. A decision is expected by the end of March.

Juliana has inspired a host of similar cases — particularly in state courts, where the Public Trust Doctrine has more foundation — around the nation. Should Juliana or other rights-based cases continue to survive dismissal motions, it will be the first time climate science is put on trial.

Another series of cases making it onto court dockets are those based on common law nuisance theory — tortious negligence. Examples of these types of cases are the recent — and so far, unsuccessful — lawsuits by cities, counties, and states seeking compensation from major oil companies for infrastructure damage and other losses attributable to climate change. Many wastewater and drinking water plants are affected by sea-level rise, as are roadways, ports, etc. These cases are similar to the tobacco suits by state governments of the 1980s and 1990s.

In late 2018, in a rare case in which two private entities were party to a climate suit, a food industry sued fossil fuel companies. A California court has granted the Pacific Coast Federation of Fishermen’s Associations standing to sue major oil producers. The petitioner is the largest commercial fishing trade group on the West Coast. On behalf of Dungeness crab fisheries, the organization is seeking $445 million in compensatory damages as a result of toxic algae blooms. The blooms, caused by warming Pacific waters, delayed the opening of the crab season off the California and Oregon coasts, creating economic losses for which recovery is sought. (The Department of Commerce has already allocated $15 million from available disaster assistance funds to help the industry.) The plaintiffs in the crab fishing case, like the state and local governments, are claiming the defendant companies have known for nearly half a century that unrestricted production and use of their fossil fuel products create greenhouse gas pollution. The case may open the door to future negligence suits by private companies against the fossil fuel industry.

Major oil companies and the federal government are not the only ones being sued for knowing the causes and consequences of climate change and choosing to do nothing about it. In 2013 a deluge that overwhelmed a labyrinth of aging sewers and giant tunnels, forcing a noxious mix of sewage and stormwater into local waterways and Lake Michigan, resulted in a lawsuit by Farmers Insurance Company against Chicago-area municipalities for negligently failing to upgrade their systems. An insurance industry expert said of the suit that the companies are in the business of covering unforeseen risks, from accidents. But we’re now at a point with the science where climate change is a foreseeable risk. Thus, a common thread running through the tort cases is establishing what the defendants knew and when.

Importantly, the litigation involves establishing and apportioning liability to monetize damages. These are acts that rely heavily on understanding and accepting climate science as it has grown over the years, and are areas where courts are particularly able to sort out the issues. Theoretically, a courtroom should be the most trusted venue for a rigorous climate-science debate. The judge in City of Oakland v. BP P.L.C., a district court common law nuisance case against major oil companies decided last year, asked the litigants to conduct a two-hour briefing on the science of climate change. In the briefing the opponents in the case all agreed that climate change is as real and damaging as the overwhelming majority of the world’s scientists say it is. The case was dismissed, however, on the grounds that the matter at issue is a political question for the legislative and executive branches to answer. Judge William Alsup, however, articulated his belief that temperatures are rising: “This [court] order fully accepts the vast scientific consensus that the combustion of fossil fuels has materially increased atmospheric carbon dioxide levels, which in turn has increased the median temperature of the planet and accelerated sea-level rise.”

The growing appeal to the judiciary to accomplish what the legislative and executive branches are politically incapable of doing is understandable. As a practical matter, however, the courts alone offer a less than ideal alternative to congressional and executive action. Lawsuits, at one level, are zero-sum. A plaintiff is granted standing to sue or told to go home. Dismissal of a case may be for procedural reasons having nothing to do with the scientific substance of the allegations. Moreover, these emerging classes of cases can take years to reach a conclusion, as the Juliana plaintiffs are finding out nearly four years into their litigation, with a trial yet to be held.

However, long before the last gavel is struck, and the final decision read, climate-rights and liability cases have much to contribute. Through discovery, evidence, testimony, and cross examination, the lawsuits are becoming rich troves of information that may have equal or greater probative value in the court of public opinion than in a court of law.

In the wake of the recent dismissal in City of Oakland are records of the defendant oil companies having agreed with plaintiffs’ factual statements on the causes and consequences of global warming. No matter the outcome in Juliana, the Trump administration has accepted the truth of the mainstream climate-science community and the reality of Earth’s warming.

Notwithstanding the possibility these cases may never be victorious in terms of a binary winning or losing, they present an opportunity for climate defenders and deniers to face off in a moderated, nonpartisan venue governed by longstanding rules of evidence and procedure. Sworn testimony subject to cross-examination offers a counterpoint to ipse dixit pronouncements of opinion in partisan legislative hearings or presidential tweets.

According to Gallup’s last available poll, Republican trust in the judicial branch has gone from 48 percent in 2016 to 79 percent in 2017. At the same time, Republicans, in general, hold the lowest opinions of climate science and climate scientists, according to the Pew Research Center. The distrust of scientists based on their perceived political leanings makes it nearly impossible to expect that deniers will become believers when confronted with hard scientific evidence. So a neutral means of deciding issues concerned with climate science is absolutely essential to convince those who still doubt humanity’s role in warming and required actions.

In Green Mountain Chrysler Plymouth Dodge Jeep v. Crombie, the U.S. District Court for the District of Vermont upheld the state’s plan to approve greenhouse gas emission regulations for new motor vehicles. Vermont’s plan was consistent with the Clean Air Act’s California exemption clause. The litigants both called upon expert testimony concerning the causes and consequences of climate change.

The Green Mountain court noted the Supreme Court’s 1993 conclusions in Daubert v. Merrell Dow Pharmaceuticals, in which the High Court enumerated a list of four non-exclusive considerations bearing on whether a theory is scientifically sufficient to constitute reliable evidence. As stated by the Daubert court, a sufficiency analysis is quantitative rather than qualitative, and “facts or data” may include reliable opinions of other experts and hypotheses that are supported by the evidence. In addition to the four factors listed in Daubert, courts consider whether the expert is testifying about matters based on research independent of the litigation.

To be admitted into evidence an expert’s opinion must be derived by recognized scientific methodologies. Courts are not required to “admit opinion evidence that is connected to existing data only by the ipse dixit of the expert,” as stated in General Electric Co. v. Joiner (1997). An example of such testimony is President Trump’s recent comment that he has a “natural instinct for science” and his uncle was a scientist at MIT, and therefore he knows that climate change is a bogus theory.

Still, climate science isn’t as well-founded as the physics of celestial bodies, for example. But if most scientists are to be believed, immediate action is necessary. A practical consequence of evidentiary rules is the judiciary’s acceptance of reliable testimony that need not be “known to a certainty.” As the judge in Green Mountain wrote, “There are no certainties in science.” Thus, actions to avoid a highly likely risk are called for in the case of climate change, just as we minimize risk of exposure to chemicals that we only suspect of carcinogenicity.

Documents in the Juliana case are now available; they include reports by the litigants’ respective experts. The reports vary in length and detail and are a preview of what the experts will be testifying to in open court. Consider the report of scientists Susan Pacheco and Jerome Paulson, who were retained by the plaintiffs. Their opposite on the defendant’s side is Arthur Partikian. Note when reading the excerpts below that standing requires that a plaintiff must have suffered an actual injury or harm, traceable to the actions of the defendant, and capable of redress by the court.

Although children are not considered a suspect class under the law, the age of the Juliana plaintiffs is integral to their allegations. Pacheco and Paulson state: “Children are uniquely vulnerable to the impacts of climate change due to their physiological features, including their higher respiratory rate, lung growth, and development, immature immune system. . . . [C]ertain populations of children are especially vulnerable. . . [including] children with preexisting medical conditions, children from communities of color, and economically disadvantaged children.”

Partikian responds: “While I do not contest the general concept that factors mentioned by the plaintiffs’ experts as potentially associated with climate change. . . I do not find adequate documentation in the available records and reports.”

Other experts called to the witness stand will testify on whether the nation can run solely on low-carbon technologies like wind and solar. The economic and monetary costs of the transition to a clean energy economy will be debated, as will the social cost of carbon. Ultimately, a jury will have to decide the value of the evidence and what actions, if any, are required by the parties.

In reading through the voluminous motions, complaints, and reports in the novel-legal-claims cases, what is most startling is what they seem not to be about — whether global climate change is real or a hoax. The Trump administration in Juliana has stipulated to the plaintiffs’ statements about the existence of global warming, recognized its harmful consequences, and acknowledged that humans are contributors to the problem in much the same manner as the oil companies are doing in the nuisance cases. The issues, rather, are fault, apportionment, and appropriate response.

The willingness of oil companies and the Trump administration to accede to the petitioner’s climate characterizations reflects a shift in the public position of “mainstream” climate-deniers in recent years. That change was on prominent display during the confirmation hearings of Scott Pruitt to EPA, Ryan Zinke to Interior, Rex Tillerson to the State Department, and other of Trump’s nominees. The new tactic accepts, with certain caveats, that climate change is afoot and acknowledges that human activity is “somehow” a contributor.

In recent months the Trump administration has added a closing statement to the acknowledgment. Buried in a draft environmental impact statement supporting the proposed freeze of auto emission standards at 2020 levels, the administration indicates that any meaningful effort to combat climate change “would require substantial increases in technology innovation and adoption compared to today’s levels and would require the economy . . . to move away from the use of fossil fuels, which is not currently technologically . . . or economically feasible.”

The statement is not made as a call to arms but as a fatalistic foreboding of what the future will hold. The “yes, but there is nothing that can reasonably be done about it” protestations of deniers in public policy arenas is a version of the challenges plaintiffs face in a trial. Should deniers lose in court, they will find there is something to be done and at a price.

It is arguable that the court’s order to do the inventory and in essence draft what for all intents and purposes would be Obama’s Clean Power Plan on steroids could be slowed, if not stopped, by a hostile Congress and White House. In any event whatever would come of the order would be back in the courts from the moment a notice of intent was published in the Federal Register.

Realistically combating climate change will take more than a court’s ordering EPA to write regulations. Absent political considerations of deployment, technological solutions only work on paper. It is not to say that the government is right and that Juliana and other novel-theory cases should be dismissed because the courts would be stepping out of their co-equal role and doing the job of policymaking that is reserved for the legislature and the executive.

Bringing policy considerations into the courtroom will prove as valuable to the public debate as taking validated scientific evidence established in the courtroom and putting it into the court of public opinion. An understanding of the political context — in reality, and not as a hypothetical construct — will help to guide the courts in their consideration of redressability, for example, by allowing the government flexibility to attack the problems from multiple directions.

Synergies exist between court proceedings and public policy debates. Courts are loathe to consider future injuries both because of their speculative nature — there is no guarantee that injuries will arise, and there is difficulty in monetizing the damage that might occur 20 years into the future. In contrast, it is natural for public policies to anticipate and respond to problems likely to pop up in the future, such as increasing a community’s resilience to extreme weather events.

The court testimony of the Juliana medical experts would naturally address the potential damages of cumulative exposure to a climate altered by the release of carbon dioxide, methane, hydrofluorocarbons, and other GHGs. Testimony in the fishing damages case will not only speak to the consequences of warming oceans from carbon released by burning oil but will convert climate concerns into dollar and cents. Although courts may not account for anticipatory damage in their orders and opinions, the information introduced into evidence during the trial would strengthen the public policy debate outside of the courtroom, even if the case is dismissed.

The hyper-partisanship preventing a balanced discussion on climate science in the halls of Congress and the White House also prevents a balanced and rational discussion on possible cures. The value of the courts is not simply to be measured in terms of final outcomes. Under partisan circumstances, the judiciary remains the only venue in which an honest and objective climate debate can occur.

In answer to the government’s claim that a courtroom is not the proper setting in which to weigh the evidence in support of climate change theory, the magistrate judge in Juliana stated: “Whether . . . climate change is occurring, whether . . . human induced, and the degree of its severity and impact on the global climate, natural environment, human health is quintessentially a subject of scientific study and methodology, not solely political debate. The judicial forum is particularly well-suited for the resolution of factual and expert scientific disputes, providing an opportunity for all parties to present evidence, under oath and subject to cross-examination in a process that is public, open, and on the record.”

Redressing the harms alleged by plaintiffs is time constrained. It has already taken the youthful petitioners in Juliana several years to get to trial. How many more years will go by before the Supreme Court makes the final judgment in the case? How many years after that will be required for EPA to do the emissions inventory and draft and implement a new power plan? Should the defendant government and companies in these novel-theory cases start losing in court, they will find there is something to be done and at a price. Yet the latest findings of climate science make it clear that immediate, large-scale actions are required.

Neither the Juliana plaintiffs nor others in pending or anticipated climate-science cases should be expected to carry the burden of a livable environment alone. The growing number of climate-related lawsuits based on novel legal theories will continue to expand at least as long as the government fails to put partisanship aside and do what is necessary to stem Earth’s warming and increase the nation’s resilience to the effects already being experienced.

As different as the emerging novel-legal-theory cases are they share the same objective — a livable environment. Win or lose each can contribute to the overall efforts of climate defenders. What was the role of science in each case? What arguments swayed judges and jurors? Where do the litigants’ experts agree; were there gaps in a plaintiff’s arguments that need to be filled? Did the public rallies in support of the Juliana plaintiffs change the community’s perception of global warming? Is the relief asked for in one case duplicative or additive to what was requested in another? Can the cases be better coordinated to create more holistic solutions to global warming?

Although each climate case is unique, they all share the same objective — a habitable global environment. Legal and policy advocates need to come together to develop an integrated strategy designed to prevail in the court of public opinion as well as of law. Even if a plaintiff loses a case, pursuing it may be validated if the court’s decision includes statements that may be useful for the larger purpose of convincing the public and prodding the political branches to action as a result. TEF

LEAD FEATURE ❧ As a locus for fact-finding and evaluating competing claims while the political branches are deadlocked, the courtroom can be the perfect neutral venue for debating climate science, policy responses, and who should pay. Current litigation could tee up such conclusions.