In his 2014 State of the Union address, President Obama praised natural gas as "the bridge fuel that can power our economy with less of the carbon pollution that causes climate change."
Switching from coal to gas was a key pillar of Obama's Clean Power Plan to reduce climate emissions, which big environmental groups lined up to praise and fight for. We now know that methane, the primary component of natural gas, is a much more potent greenhouse gas than carbon dioxide. We know that gas plants are, at best, no more than a marginal improvement over coal. Today, wind and solar are the cheapest sources of new energy generation. The fight has largely shifted from coal to gas.
Some energy companies and utilities still hold up gas as a bridge to enable more renewables, filling in the gaps when the wind doesn't blow and the sun doesn't shine. Others – including the oil and gas industry, the Biden Administration, and, inexplicably, many big green groups – are laying the foundation for a new bridge, touting the climate benefits of two dubious strategies: carbon capture utilization and storage (CCUS) and hydrogen.
Many of the voices holding up carbon capture and hydrogen as new climate solutions are the same voices that fought for the natural gas bridge a decade ago. And, once again, they're leading us down the wrong path, building a bridge to decades of additional emissions when we're rapidly running out of time to avoid the most dire impacts of climate change.
As the latest report from the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC) made abundantly clear, we don't have time for another fossil fuel bridge.
Carbon capture utilization and storage involves removing carbon dioxide (CO2) from the air, either at the source of production like a power plant or pulled directly from the air around us, and either using it for some other purpose or storing it underground, ideally forever. More than one watchdog group has described carbon capture as a boondoggle, and for good reason. The federal government has pumped billions into failed carbon capture projects, and the new infrastructure plan and reconciliation process is poised to inject tens of billions more.
One after another, these projects have experienced delays and cost overruns, missed emission-reduction targets, and ultimately failed. The few successful carbon capture projects still operating largely use captured carbon for enhanced oil recovery processes and get paid for the alleged climate benefit of burying CO2.
Carbon capture is an expensive and energy intensive process. Even when successful, carbon capture at power plants and industrial facilities will never eliminate all CO2 emissions released at the sites. Additionally, carbon capture does nothing to address the emission of harmful co-pollutants like nitrogen oxides (NOx) or upstream emissions due to methane leakage in the extraction and transportation of natural gas. In fact, because carbon capture requires more fossil fuels to generate the same amount of energy, it exacerbates both of these issues. Researchers at Cornell University and Stanford University found that producing hydrogen through carbon capture, generating so called "blue" hydrogen, would result in more greenhouse emissions than directly burning gas or coal for heat.
The utilization and storage components of carbon capture are also problematic. A recent study from the University of Michigan found that most uses of captured CO2 would result in a net climate burden, resulting in higher emissions than they would avoid. Permanent storage of CO2 has yet to be proven, with concerns that leakage could negate many of the purported climate benefits of the process.
Delaying climate change action via hydrogen
Hydrogen presents another emissions-laden path forward. Today, around 99 percent of hydrogen is produced through fossil fuel-intensive processes, resulting in grey hydrogen or, when paired with carbon capture, blue hydrogen. The only emissions-free way to generate hydrogen is through electrolysis of water powered directly by renewable energy.
The fossil fuel industry has been successful in its lobbying and marketing campaign to get blue hydrogen and green hydrogen bundled together under the moniker of "clean" hydrogen. The industry and its supporters advertise the benefits of green hydrogen, while planning to ramp up production of blue hydrogen as a cheaper near-term solution – using more gas and emitting more greenhouse gases along the way.
Concerns over blue hydrogen led Chris Jackson to step down as chair of the UK's leading hydrogen industry association, stating, "I believe passionately that I would be betraying future generations by remaining silent on that fact that blue hydrogen is at best an expensive distraction, and at worst a lock-in for continued fossil fuel use that guarantees we will fail to meet our decarbonisation goals."
Hydrogen is being sold to policymakers and the public as a solution to reduce the carbon footprint of hard-to-reach sectors, such as high-temperature industrial processes and marine transportation. But this is not what is happening in practice. Instead, utilities are rushing to blend low levels of hydrogen into natural gas pipelines, claiming a nominal reduction in carbon emissions as an excuse to keep building new pipelines and power plants and delay the electrification of areas we already know how to decarbonize, like heating and light transportation.
It's a classic bait and switch, delaying climate action and locking in decades of additional greenhouse gas emissions and continued air pollution.
Deep decarbonization will come from renewables
The best climate strategy we have is to fully commit to the rapid scale-up of solutions that we already know will work - solar, wind, hydro, geothermal, battery storage, energy efficiency, demand management. We already have the tools to realize deep decarbonization. It is not the time to dump billions of dollars into another fossil fuel bridge to nowhere.
Carbon capture utilization and storage and hydrogen are not the technologies we need today or tomorrow. If anything, they should be end-of-the line solutions when all other options have been exhausted. They should only be a bridge of last resort.
Seth Mullendore is vice president and project director for Clean Energy Group where he leads projects ranging from advancing customer-sited solar and battery storage in underserved communities to the replacement of power plants with clean technologies.
U.S. oil companies, recovering from the pandemic slump, are now seeing significant profits due to market forces and geopolitical events.
Many oil companies have shifted strategies, focusing on financial returns by cutting costs and improving efficiency.
Despite increasing renewable energy adoption, global demand for oil continues to grow, with the U.S. leading in production.
Key quote:
“We’re not going to get out of this business because supply was squeezed, because there’s plenty of it. We’re going to get out of the business because demand went down.”
— Samantha Gross, director at Brookings Institution
Why this matters:
This tug-of-war between old-school energy and the shiny new kids on the block highlights the tough balancing act of transitioning to a cleaner future. For now, Big Oil's got its foot firmly on the gas pedal, leaving us all to wonder how long this joyride can last. Read more: “Code Red” for climate means reducing US oil and gas production.
CAMERON PARISH, La. — Late into the night, John Allaire watches the facility next to his home shoot 300-foot flares from stacks.
He lives within eyesight of southwest Louisiana’s salty shores, where, for decades, he’s witnessed nearly 200 feet of land between it and his property line disappear into the sea. Two-thirds of the land was rebuilt to aid the oil and gas industry’s LNG expansion. LNG — shorthand for liquified natural gas – is natural gas that's cooled to liquid form for easier storage or transport; it equates to 1/600th the volume of natural gas in a gaseous state. It’s used to generate electricity, or fuel stove tops and home heaters, and in industrial processes like manufacturing fertilizer.
In the U.S., at least 30 new LNG terminal facilities have been constructed or proposed since 2016, according to the
Oil and Gas Watch project. Louisiana and Texas’ Gulf Coast, where five facilities are already operating, will host roughly two-thirds of the new LNG terminals – meaning at least 22 Gulf Coast LNG facilities are currently under construction, were recently approved to break ground or are under further regulatory review.
Although the U.S. didn’t ship LNG until 2016, when a freight tanker left, a few miles from where Cameron Parish’s LNG plants are today, last year the country became the global leader in LNG production and export volume, leapfrogging exporters like Qatar and Australia. The
EIA’s most recent annual outlook estimated that between the current year and 2050, U.S. LNG exports will increase by 152%.
Allaire, 68, watches how saltwater collects where rainwater once fed the area’s diminishing coastal wetlands. “We still come down here with the kids and set out the fishing rods. It's not as nice as it used to be,” he told
Environmental Health News (EHN).
That intimacy with nature drew Allaire to the area when he purchased 311 acres in 1998. An environmental engineer and 30-year oil and gas industry veteran, he helped lead environmental assessments and manage clean-ups, and although retired, he still works part-time as an environmental consultant with major petroleum companies. With a lifetime of oil and gas industry expertise, he’s watched the industry's footprint spread across Louisiana and the Gulf of Mexico’s fragile shores and beyond. Now that the footprints are at the edge of his backyard, Allaire is among a cohort of organizers, residents and fisher-folk in the region mobilizing to stop LNG facility construction. For him, the industry’s expansion usurps the right-or-wrong ethics he carried across his consulting career. For anglers, oil and gas infrastructure has destroyed fishing grounds and prevented smaller vessels from accessing the seafood-rich waters of the Calcasieu River.
From the view of Allaire’s white pickup truck as he drives across his property to the ocean’s shore, he points to where a new LNG facility will replace marshlands. Commonwealth LNG intends to clear the land of trees and then backfill the remaining low-lying field.
“You see what’s happening with the environment,” Allaire said. “When the facts change, I got to change my mind about what we’re doing.”
Community bands together
John Allaire, left, purchased 311 acres in Cameron Parish in 1998, and has watched the oil and gas industry's footprint spread to his property.
Credit: John Allaire
During an Earth Day rally in April, community members gathered in the urban center of Lake Charles to demand local oil and gas industries help deliver a safer, healthier future for all. In between live acts by artists performing south Louisiana’s quintessential zydeco musical style, speakers like James Hiatt, a Calcasieu Parish native with ties to Cameron Parish and a Healthy Gulf organizer, and RISE St. James organizer Sharon Lavigne, who’s fighting against LNG development in rural Plaquemines Parish near the city of New Orleans, asked the nearly 100 in attendance to imagine a day in which the skyline isn’t dotted by oil and gas infrastructure.
Not long ago, it was hard to imagine an Earth Day rally in southwest Louisiana at all. For decades, the area has been decorated with fossil fuel infrastructure. Sunsets on some days are highlighted by the chemicals in the air; at night, thousands of facilities’ lights dot the dark sky.
“It takes a lot of balls for people to start speaking up,” Shreyas Vasudevan, a campaign researcher with the Louisiana Bucket Brigade, told EHN in the days after the rally. In a region with its history and economy intertwined with oil and gas production, “you can get a lot of social criticism – or ostracization, as well – even threats to your life.”
Many are involved in local, regional and national advocacy groups, including the Louisiana Bucket Brigade, Healthy Gulf, the Sierra Club, the Natural Resources Defense Council, the Turtle Island Restoration Network, the Center for Biological Diversity and the National Audubon Society.
“You see what’s happening with the environment,” Allaire said. “When the facts change, I got to change my mind about what we’re doing.” - John Allaire, environmental engineer and 30-year oil and gas industry veteran
But environmental organizers are fighting a multi-billion-dollar industry with federal and state winds at its back. And LNG’s federal support is coupled with existing state initiatives.
Under outgoing Louisiana Gov. John Bel Edwards — a term-limited Democrat — the state pledged a goal of reaching net-zero greenhouse emissions by 2050. Natural gas, which the LNG industry markets as a cleaner-burning alternative, is cited as one of the state’s solutions. Louisiana is the only state that produces a majority of its carbon emissions through fossil fuels refining industries, like LNG, rather than energy production or transportation. Governor Edwards’ office did not return EHN’s request for comment.
This accommodating attitude towards oil and gas industries has resulted in a workforce that’s trained to work in LNG refining facilities across much of the rural Gulf region, said Steven Miles, a lawyer at Baker Botts LLP and a fellow at the Baker Institute’s Center on Energy Studies. Simultaneously, anti-industrialization pushback is lacking. It’s good news for industries like LNG.
“The bad news,” Miles added. “[LNG facilities] are all being jammed in the same areas.”
One rallying cry for opponents is local health. The Environmental Integrity Project found that LNG export terminals emit chemicals like carbon monoxide –potentially deadly– and sulfur dioxide, of which the American Lung Association says long-term exposure can lead to heart disease, cancer, and damage to internal or female reproductive organs.
An analysis of emissions monitoring reports by the advocacy group the Louisiana Bucket Brigade found that Venture Global’s existing Calcasieu Pass facility had more than 2,000 permit violations.That includes exceeding the permit’s authorized air emissions limit to release nitrogen oxides, carbon monoxide, particulate matter and volatile organic compounds 286 out of its first 343 days of operation.
The Marvel Crane, the first liquid natural gas carrier to transport natural gas from the Southwest Louisiana LNG facility, transits a channel in Hackberry, Louisiana, May 28, 2019.
“This is just one facility,” at a time when three more facilities have been proposed in the region and state, Vasudevan said. Venture Global’s operational LNG facility — also known as Calcasieu Pass — “is much smaller than the other facility they’ve proposed.”
In an area that experienced 18 feet of storm surge during Hurricane Laura in 2020 — and just weeks later, struck by Hurricane Delta — Venture Global is planning to build a second export terminal Known as “CP2,” it’s the largest of the roughly two dozen proposed Gulf LNG export terminals, and a key focal point for the region’s local organizing effort.
Residents “don’t really want LNG as much as they want Cameron [Parish] from 1990 back,” Hiatt told EHN of locals’ nostalgia for a community before storms like Rita in 2005 brought up to 15 feet of storm surge, only for Laura to repeat the damage in 2020. Throughout that time, the parish’s population dipped from roughly 10,000 to 5,000. “But the wolf knocking at the door is LNG. Folks in Cameron think that's going to bring back community, bring back the schools, bring back this time before we had all these storms — when Cameron was pretty prosperous.”
“Clearly,” for the oil and gas industry, “the idea is to transform what was once the center of commercial fishing in Louisiana to gas exports,” Cindy Robertson, an environmental activist in southwest Louisiana, told EHN.
Helping fishers’ impacted by LNG is about “actual survival of this unique culture,” Cooke said.
In a measure of organizers’ success, she pointed to a recent permit hearing for Venture Global’s CP2 proposal. Regionally, it’s the only project that’s received an environmental permit, but not its export permit, which remains under federal review. At the meeting, some spoke on the company’s behalf. As an organizer, it was a moment of clarity, Cooke explained. Venture Global officials “had obviously done a lot of coaching and organizing and getting people together in Cameron to speak out on their behalf,” Cooke said. “So, in a way, that was bad. But in another way, it shows that we really had an impact.”
“It also shows that we have a lot to do,” Cooke added.
Environmental organizers like Alyssa Portaro describe a sense of fortitude among activists — she and her husband to the region’s nearby town of Vinton near the Texas-Louisiana border. Since the families’ relocation to their farm, Portaro has worked with Cameron Parish fisher-folk.
“I’ve not witnessed ‘community’ anywhere like there is in Louisiana,” Portaro told EHN. But a New Jersey native, she understands the toll environmental pollution has on low-income communities. “This environment, it’s so at risk — and it’s currently getting sacrificed to big industries.”
“People don’t know what we’d do without oil and gas. It comes at a big price,” she added.
Southwest Louisiana’s Cameron Parish is one of the state’s most rural localities. Marine economies were the area’s economic drivers until natural disasters and LNG facilities began pushing locals out, commercial fishers claim.
Credit: Xander Peters for Environmental Health News
Residents “don’t really want LNG as much as they want Cameron [Parish] from 1990 back,” James Hiatt , a Healthy Gulf organizer, told EHN. "But the wolf knocking at the door is LNG."
Credit: Xander Peters for Environmental Health News
For the most part, Cameron Parish’s life and economy has historically taken place at sea. As new LNG facilities are operational or in planning locally, locals claim the community they once knew is nearly unrecognizable.
Credit: Xander Peters for Environmental Health News
A disappearing parish
The stakes are seemingly higher for a region like southwest Louisiana, which is the epicenter of climate change impacts.
In nearly a century, the state has lost roughly 2,000 square miles of land to coastal erosion. In part driving the state’s erosion crisis is the compounding impacts of Mississippi River infrastructure and oil and gas industry activity, such as dredging canals for shipping purposes, according to a March study published in the journal Nature Sustainability. Louisiana’s Coastal Protection and Restoration Authority said Cameron Parish could lose more land than other coastal parishes over the next 50 years. A recent Climate Central report says the parish will be underwater within that time frame.
On top of erosion and sea level rise impacts, in August, 2023, marshland across southwest Louisiana’s Cameron Parish burned. The fires were among at least 600 across the Bayou State this year. Statewide, roughly 60,000 acres burned — a more than six-fold increase of the state’s average acres burned per year in the past decade alone.
But while the blaze avoided coastal Louisiana communities like Cameron Parish, the fires represented a warning coming from a growing chorus of locals across the region — one that’s echoes by the local commercial fishing population, who claimed to have experienced unusually low yields during the same time, according to a statement from a local environmental group. At the site of the Cameron Parish fires are locations for two proposed LNG expansion projects.
"The idea is to transform what was once the center of commercial fishing in Louisiana to gas exports.” - Cindy Robertson, an environmental activist in southwest Louisiana
It was an unusual occurrence for an area that’s more often itself underwater this time of year due to a storm surge from powerful storms. For LNG expansion’s local opposition, it was a red flag.
As the Louisiana Bucket Brigade has noted prior, the confluence of climate change’s raising of sea levels and the construction of LNG export terminals — some are proposed at the size of nearly 700 football fields — are wiping away the marshland folks like Allaire watched wither. Among their fears is that the future facilities won’t be able to withstand the power of another storm like Laura and its storm surge, which wiped away entire communities in 2020.
Amidst these regional climate impacts, LNG infrastructure has shown potential to exacerbate the accumulation of greenhouse gasses that cause global warming. For the most part, LNG is made up of methane — a greenhouse gas that’s more than 80 times more potent than carbon dioxide in the atmosphere. Among the 22 current LNG facility proposals, the advocacy group Sierra Club described a combined climate pollution output that would roughly equal to that of about 440 coal plants.
The climate impacts prompt some of the LNG industry’s uncertainty going forward. It isn’t clear if Asian countries, key importers of U.S. LNG, will “embrace these energy transition issues,” said David Dismuke, an energy consultant and the former executive director of Louisiana State University’s Center for Energy Studies. Likewise, European nations remain skeptical of embracing LNG as a future staple fuel source.
“They really don't want to have to pull the trigger,” Dismukes added, referring to Europe’s hesitation to commit more resources to exporting LNG from the American market. “They don't want to go down that road.”
While there will be a tapering down of natural gas supply, Miles explained, “we’re going to need natural gas for a long time,” as larger battery storage for renewables is still unavailable.
“I'm not one of these futurists that can tell you where we're going to be, but I just don't see everything being extreme,” Dismukes said. “I don't see what we've already built getting stranded and going away, either.”
For now, LNG seems here to stay. From 2012 to 2022,U.S. natural gas demand — the sum of both domestic consumption and gross exports — rose by a whopping 43%, reported the U.S. Energy Information Administration, or EIA. Meanwhile, in oil and gas hotbeds like Louisiana and Texas, natural gas demand grew by 116%.
Throughout 25 years, Allaire has witnessed southwest Louisiana’s land slowly fade, in part driven by the same industrial spread regionally. Near where the front door of his travel trailer sits underneath the aluminum awning, he points to a chenier ridge located near the end of the property. It’s disappearing, he said.
“See the sand washing over, in here?” Allaire says, as he points towards the stretches of his property. “This pond used to go down for a half mile. This is all that's left of it on this side.”
Activists delivered a petition with over 17,500 signatures to Governor Katie Hobbs, calling for the closure of the Pinyon Plain Mine.
Uranium mining poses significant health risks and threatens water sources critical to the Grand Canyon's ecosystem and local communities.
The governor’s office acknowledged receipt but has yet to take action on the petition.
Key quote:
“The safe thing to do, the prudent thing to do, is to avoid that risk altogether and close the mine.”
— Taylor McKinnon, director of the Center for Biological Diversity
Why this matters:
The Grand Canyon has long been a battleground for conservation efforts. Uranium mining, with its potential to contaminate water sources and disrupt ecosystems, adds a new layer of urgency to these efforts. The Havasupai Tribe, whose ancestral lands lie within the Grand Canyon, has been vocal about the threats posed to their health and way of life. Contaminated water sources could have devastating effects on both human populations and the diverse wildlife that call the canyon home.
Trump vows to reduce energy prices and blames Democrats for the current high costs.
Republicans criticize Biden’s climate policies, linking them to a 20% rise in electricity prices since 2020.
Experts say short-term electricity prices are more influenced by state regulators and natural gas prices than federal policies.
Key quote:
“They could say we’re just going all in on fossil fuels and to hell with the carbon emissions. That would probably have some effect but relatively small.”
— Severin Borenstein, professor at the Haas School of Business at the University of California, Berkeley
Record-high temperatures in Washington state threaten the migration of sockeye salmon in the Columbia River Basin, raising concerns among fisheries managers about the future of these fish.
A heat wave has pushed water temperatures in the Columbia River Basin above the 68-degree threshold preferred by sockeye salmon.
The Okanogan River, a critical path for migrating sockeye, has seen temperatures near 83 degrees, risking the fish's journey to spawning grounds.
Fisheries managers are considering interventions like trucking fish upstream to help them bypass dangerous thermal barriers.
Key quote:
“Those water temperatures are warmer than ever this year. Literally, they’re almost too warm to swim in.”
— Tom Iverson, regional coordinator for the Yakama Nation Fisheries
Why this matters:
Warmer water can severely impede salmon migration, threatening the species' survival and impacting ecosystems. Long-term climate trends could make these heatwaves more frequent, challenging conservation efforts.
Farmworkers like Rosa Morales face extreme heat, low wages, and lack of protection while working.
Rising food prices and decreased crop yields due to climate change worsen their financial strain.
Many farmworkers are ineligible for federal aid, leading to reliance on community gardens and food pantries.
Key quote:
“When we talk about supply chains and food prices going up, we are not thinking about the people who are producing that food, or getting it off the fields and onto our plates.”
— Nezahualcoyotl Xiuhtecutli, National Sustainable Agriculture Coalition
Why this matters:
Farmworkers, who are already among the lowest-paid laborers in the country, are bearing the brunt of climate-driven disasters and inflation. Extreme weather events like droughts, floods, and heatwaves are reducing crop yields and disrupting work schedules. This not only diminishes their earnings but also exacerbates the physical strain of their jobs. The rising costs of living, driven by inflation, are stretching their already thin budgets to the breaking point.
As mounds of dredged material from the Houston Ship Channel dot their neighborhoods, residents are left without answers as to what dangers could be lurking.
