Time is running out ...

From an Article by Tara Lohan, The Revelator, January 11, 2021

Shalanda Baker is currently a professor of law, public policy and urban affairs at Northeastern University and cofounder of the Initiative for Energy Justice, where she works on making the clean energy transition more just. Her new book is “Revolutionary Power, An Activist’s Guide to the Energy Transition,” published this month of January 2021.

The Revelator spoke with Prof. Baker about why we can’t solve our current climate crisis by following the same energy playbook and what it means to put various justice concerns first.

Question: “Energy justice” may be a new term for people. How do you define it?

I feel like it’s helpful to distinguish it from environmental justice as well as climate justice. They’re interrelated and, I think, inextricably intertwined.

We had seen landmark environmental legislation passed in the 1970s which largely failed to address energy distributional concerns and largely left communities of color to fend for themselves through regular civil rights claims to sort out those burdens. And that actually didn’t work out.

So the environmental justice movement continues and on their shoulders is the climate justice movement, which very much recognizes that island communities and other communities in the Global South, as well as environmental justice communities including in the United States, will be the first and worst impacted by climate change.

So they’re really working to create policies that respond to that vulnerability.

But energy justice for me is the most hopeful aspect of this because it’s forward looking. To me, it’s about dreaming and saying, “What system can we create that not only remediates or helps to remediate some of that environmental harm, but can make us less vulnerable in the face of climate change?”

Rooftop solar, batteries, things that allow us to bounce back more quickly in the face of climate change — this hopeful terrain of energy policy that is reflective of energy justice principles is where I like to do my work.

Question: What response do you get when you talk about energy justice now?

If you had asked me that six months ago, I would have said that it’s very hard. No one’s listening, it’s terrible.

But since the COVID-19 pandemic, coupled with the murder of George Floyd, we have seen this sort of awakening, for lack of a better term, with respect to the multiple layers of oppression and inequality that certain communities face.

We know that communities of color are more likely to be environmental justice communities, breathing in toxic fumes. We know that they’re more likely to experience energy burden, paying more of their overall income to meet basic energy needs. And now we know that they’re more likely to die from a pandemic and that the likelihood of having the worst effects of COVID relates back to the energy system.

So now there’s an opening, there’s an opportunity. Since June there’s really been more of a willingness to learn about this — and not in just the typical places, but with policymakers, with folks from departments of energy around the country and attorneys general offices.

Question: Are there examples of energy justice in action you’ve seen around the country?

One is in New York through the Climate Leadership and Community Protection Act, which was signed into law about a year ago and was very much a product of grassroots advocacy. A coalition called NY Renews made sure that that law included a carve-out for environmental justice communities [requiring] that 35% of climate investments have to go back to those communities.

We see similar things in California with Senate Bill 535, which is essentially a redistribution of the benefits of that state’s cap and trade policy to so-called “disadvantaged communities.”

So there are wins here and there, but we have to keep fighting.

Question: You write in your book about how the goal for many activists has been “climate first, energy justice later.” But you advocate for justice first. Why?

Bringing in the voices of folks who’ve been historically colonized and excluded for hundreds of years is just the morally right thing to do.

But I think more and more, we’re starting to understand that our fates are linked. And we cannot leave behind certain squads of the population in pursuit of our own gains. We have to make sure that they have a voice at the table and are able to bring life to their own vision of what the energy system should look like.

Or else we’ll get kicked by it at the end of the day. We’ll be hit by the realization that we’ve left out this entire segment of the population that can’t pay their electricity bills or that now has to move because of climate change. That will ultimately create substantial social costs down the road.

So for me, it’s about making a stronger society. I really want ordinary folks — our aunts or uncles, our friends who are not in energy or environmental law and policy — to engage with these ideas and to see the ways in which energy is such an intimate part of our lives.

I want people to get curious and begin to organize around a just energy future. And to also maybe even get a little upset about the deep injustice that is embedded into not just the fossil fuel system — because that’s a story we know — but into this clean energy transition, where we are not only replicating but in some ways exacerbating inequality.

>>> Tara Lohanis is deputy editor of The Revelator and has worked for more than a decade as a digital editor and environmental journalist focused on the intersections of energy, water and climate. Her work has been published by The Nation, American Prospect, High Country News, Grist, Pacific Standard and others. She is the editor of two books on the global water crisis.

WARNING: This is a US Foreign Trade Zone

From an Article by Ted Auch, PhD, Great Lakes Program Coordinator and Shannon Smith, Manager of Communications & Development, FracTracker Alliance, July 9, 2020

The oil and gas industry continues to use rhetoric focusing on national security and energy independence in order to advocate for legislation to criminalize climate activists. Backlash against protestors and environmental stewards has only increased since the onset of COVID-19, suggesting that industry proponents are exploiting this public health crisis to further their own dangerous and controversial policies.

Industry actors contributing to the wave of anti-protest bills include American Petroleum Institute (API), IHS Markit, The American Fuel & Petrochemical Manufacturers (AFPM), and most effectively, the American Legislative Exchange Council (ALEC), by way of its primary financial backer, Koch Industries (Fang, 2014, Shelor, 2017).

ALEC is the source of the model legislation “Critical Infrastructure Protection Act” of 2017, intended to make it a felony to “impede,” “inhibit,” “impair,” or “interrupt” critical infrastructure operation and/or construction. Close approximations – if not exact replicas – of this legislative template have been passed in 11 hydrocarbon rich and/or pathway states, and 8 more are being debated in 4 additional states.

The “critical infrastructure” designation in ALEC’s “Critical Infrastructure Protection Act” is extremely broad, including over 70 pieces of infrastructure, from wastewater treatment and well pads, to ports and pipelines. However, along with the 259 Foreign Trade Zones (FTZ) supervised by US Customs and Border Protection (CBP), security is of such importance because over 50% of this infrastructure is related to oil and gas. According to our analysis, there are more than 8,000 unique pieces of infrastructure that fall under this designation, with over 10% in the Marcellus/Utica states of Ohio, West Virginia, and Pennsylvania.

Regarding FTZ, the US Department of Homeland Security doesn’t attempt to hide their genuine nature, boldly proclaiming them “… the United States’ version of what are known internationally as free-trade zones … to serve adequately ‘the public interest’.” If there remains any confusion as to who these zones are geared toward, the US Department of Commerce’s International Administration (ITA) makes the link between FTZ and the fossil fuel industry explicit in its FTZ FAQ page, stating “The largest industry currently using zone procedures is the petroleum refining industry.”

Much of the oil, gas, and petrochemical industries’ efforts stem from the mass resistance to the Dakota Access Pipeline (DAPL). Native American tribes and environmental groups spent months protesting the environmentally risky $3.78 billion dollar project, which began production in June 2017, after Donald Trump signed an executive order to expedite construction during his first week in office.

The Standing Rock Sioux tribe also sued the US government in a campaign effort to protect their tribal lands. The world watched as Energy Transfer Partners (ETP), the company building the pipeline, destroyed Native artifacts and sacred sites, and as police deployed tear gas and sprayed protesters with water in temperatures below freezing.

ETP’s bottom line and reputation were damaged during the fight against DAPL. Besides increasingly militarized law enforcement, the oil and gas industry has retaliated by criminalizing similar types of protests against fossil fuel infrastructure. However, the tireless work of Native Americans and environmental advocates has resulted in a recent victory in March 2020, when a federal judge ordered a halt to the pipeline’s production and an extensive new environmental review of DAPL.

Just days ago, on July 6, 2020, a federal judge ruled that DAPL must shut down until further environmental review can assess potential hazards to the landscape and water quality of the Tribe’s water source. This is certainly a victory for the Standing Rock Sioux Tribe and other environmental defenders, but the decision is subject to appeal.

Since the DAPL conflict began, the industry has been hastily coordinating state-level legislation in anticipation of resistance to other notable national gas transmission pipelines, more locally concerning projects like Class II Oil and Gas Waste Injection Wells, and miles of gas gathering pipelines that transport increasing streams of waste – as well as oil and gas – to coastal processing sites.

The following “critical infrastructure” bill has already been enacted:

STATE: West Virginia, BILL: HB 4615, TITLE: New Penalties For Protests Near Gas And Oil Pipelines, DATE PASSED: 3/25/20

##############################

See also: Stopping a massive fracked-gas pipeline takes a village > Appalachian Voices, Jessica Sims, November 20, 2020

As of this evening, the people who have been occupying several tree-sits in the path of construction of the Mountain Valley Pipeline in Montgomery County, Va., over the past 2-1/2 years remain on site. A county judge had issued an order last week that they come down, and on Thursday had found them in contempt of court and subject to fines. These individuals have occupied the tree-sits now for 808 continuous days in a testament to their commitment to protecting the planet from the dangers of fossil fuel. While the outcome of their herculean efforts is yet unknown, the fight to stop the Mountain Valley Pipeline continues unabated by thousands of people across West Virginia, Virginia, North Carolina and beyond. (Appalachian Voices does not fund, sponsor or engage in activities such as tree-sits and pipeline blockades.)

We The People are speaking up ....

From an Essay by Micah Fink, Alternet, January 18, 2018

As millions prepare to return to the streets on Saturday, January 20, for a reprise of last year’s Women’s March — the largest mass protest in American history — people of conscience are actively debating critical questions about the power of protest. Are mass protests and civil disobedience still effective? What are the most effective strategies for achieving lasting social change? What is the connection between protest movements and electoral politics? Do we need more marchers or mayors?

The “Power of Protest,” a new documentary film we’re launching on Kickstarter, seeks to answer these questions in the Trump era. The film will follow a year in the life of contemporary social movements like the Women’s March, Black Lives Matter, Gays Against Guns, Lancaster Against Pipelines and Indivisible to see how they frame and pursue their objectives during a period of intense social turmoil leading into the 2018 midterm elections, and beyond.

We will also hear from strategic leaders of the civil rights movement, the Tea Party movement and the recent struggle for marriage equality to explore how social and technological changes are transforming what environmental activist Bill McKibben, one of our project advisers, calls the “rapidly evolving new science” of non-violent protest.

Case Studies in Resistance

The Kickstarter campaign we’ve produced offers a sample of our approach. It tells the story of a small but influential group of activists fighting to stop construction of the Atlantic Sunrise Pipeline in the heart of Central Pennsylvania’s Amish country.

The 184-mile pipeline is designed to carry fracked gas from the Marcellus shale fields in Northern Pennsylvania to Maryland and the Gulf Coast for industrial use and export to foreign markets. Its original route passed right through the backyard of Mark and Malinda Clatterbuck, whose house sits in a shady hollow in rural Lancaster County.

Mark, a professor of religious studies at Montclair State University, and Malinda, a Mennonite minister, are unlikely activists. But after a land agent for the pipeline knocked on their front door in March 2014 and tried to bully them into leasing their land, their living room quickly became ground zero for local resistance.

The opening gambit of Lancaster Against Pipelines was to pass a local ordinance to prohibit the pipeline. But even though the majority of their neighbors supported the ban, Mark says, the town lawyers discovered it was illegal to pass legislation that “discriminates” against fossil fuel companies, and the effort failed.

Next, they tried to convince federal regulators to stop the project based on its potential for environmental damage, but even with support from the Sierra Club and Greenpeace, construction was approved in September 2017.

“The issue that really frustrates me,” says Malinda, “is that Williams, a company based in Oklahoma, has the right to come into our community and do what they want on my land and I don’t have the right to say no, you can’t do that on my property. That’s unconscionable to me.”

“Nonviolence to us means no violence against people and no violence against possessions, so we’re not doing damage to equipment,” says Malinda, whose direct action inspirations include Martin Luther King Jr., Daniel and Philip Berrigan and John Dear. “It means that we use our bodies to stand in the way of equipment that’s destroying the land in our community.”

“Basically, we feel like our resistance highlights a moral crisis,” says Mark. “And that moral crisis doesn’t come to the surface unless there’s confrontation.”

“I think there’s nothing more patriotic than what we’re doing,” he concludes. “Throughout the history of our country, as we all know, principled resistance, principled protest, is really the bedrock of democracy.”

On board: Danny Glover, Bill McKibben, Roberta Kaplan

By setting the efforts of activists like Mark and Malinda Clatterbuck alongside the work of the Women’s Marchers, Black Lives Matter, Gays Against Guns and Indivisible, we hope to better understand the moral and social tensions now reshaping American politics—while also mapping out the most effective tools and strategies now available for a new generation of activists.

We’ve assembled an advisory board that includes civil rights veteran Danny Glover, environmental activist Bill McKibben, lawyer Roberta Kaplan, and veteran journalists Ray Suarez and Rory Kennedy.

The time is ripe to understand the power of protest.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Support the “Power of Protest” Kickstarter campaign. Get more information and share suggestions for movements or stories.

>>> Micah Fink’s most recent film, “Beyond Borders,” explored the lives of undocumented Mexican-American families in the U.S. and aired on public television stations around the country in 2016. He has produced documentaries for HBO, CNN, ABC News, National Geographic Explorer, National Geographic Wild, and PBS Wide Angle.