When you're a member of the media you receive notice of a lot of "days"—Pancake day, National Lame Duck Day, Textiles Day. But today is World Bicycle Day, and that means something to me. And, if you care about the environment, it should to you as well.
I love bicycling. As a child it was the freedom. When I moved to big cities it was the convenience (traffic sucks and it was a way to avoid it). Now, in my rural surroundings, it's for exercise and a way to observe and understand my region from the relatively slow pace of a road bike.
But bicycling goes far beyond the lycra-clad obsessives like me—and it spans generations. In the past month, I've spoken to my young nephew about his progress on riding neighborhood hills, and my soon-to-be-retired mother about how she's looking into the electric bike market.
The personal health benefits of riding a bicycle are well established—but what truly sets bicycling apart from other sports or recreation activities is its ability to have a massive positive impact on the local environment.
Pedal for the planet
Roughly 872,000 people in the U.S. bike to work and many more use bikes to run errands and get around town (for comparison, one quarter of all trips made by Dutch residents – 4.5 billion trips – are on a bicycle). This matters—in the U.S. vehicle emissions account for roughly a third of carbon dioxide (CO2) emissions. An estimated half of car trips are just a few miles from the home.
Every one of these bike commuters is helping the planet. A study from the European Cyclists Federation in 2011 compared the CO2 emissions of bicycling versus other motorized transportation. It went beyond emissions and even considered production, maintenance and fuel (for bicycling this means calories eaten).
For the entire life cycle researchers found: bicycling accounts for 21 grams of CO2 per passenger per half mile traveled, while a car accounts for roughly 271 grams (based on short car trips that could be replaced by a bike).
There are also built-in economic gains to be realized from expanded cycling: A landmark 2015 report from the Institute for Transportation and Development Policy found that a dramatic increase in cycling as transportation could save the planet $24 trillion over the next 35 years and cut worldwide carbon dioxide emissions by 11 percent over the same time compared to a scenario without expanded cycling.
There is the air pollution problem—cyclists are out on streets sucking in air and can be exposed to toxics during their commute or leisure ride. However, recent research shows cycling commuters are exposed to less air pollution on daily commutes than people walking or in cars and buses.
We've established that cycling is awesome for us and helps the planet, so why, in a nation of more than 328 million people, are only 872,000 commuting to work via bike?
There are all kinds of reasons and, for many people, riding a bicycle simply isn't an option. But among those that can one of the major issues is lack of bike infrastructure.
Cars are big, drivers are distracted, and our cities shamelessly prioritize automobiles.
Bicycle lanes in downtown Washington DC. (Credit: Elvert Barnes/flickr)
Crisis uncovers bicycling convenience
But across the world the COVID-19 crisis has prompted concerns over mass transit, emptier streets and cleaner air—sending people dusting off their bikes and rummaging through their garage for air pumps.
Some U.S. cities have recognized this and responded. In one of the most ambitious moves, Oakland, California, closed 74 miles of streets—many along existing bike routes—to through traffic. Milwaukee will close 10 miles of streets to cars to create more cycling and walking space. Boston, Minneapolis and other cities closed streets and some parkways as well.
In New York City, cycling increased by 52 percent over the city's bridges once quarantine started. Chicago's bikeshare use doubled in March.
It's impossible to know if it'll last, or if any of these riders will turn into bike commuters.
Meanwhile, the Trump Administration is hard at work thinking of ways to ease the pain felt by the oil industry during the pandemic. And there's talk of possibly another bailout for the auto industry.
Of course—right or wrong—the oil and automotive industry are key cogs in our economic machinery so the feds have an interest in keeping people employed and cash flowing.
What if our economic considerations took health and environmental gains into account?
Obesity related illnesses cost the U.S. hundreds of billions per year.
Air pollution costs the U.S. economy roughly 5 percent of its GDP per year.
As climate change continues its impacts, though hard to quantify, are estimated to cost the U.S. hundreds of billions per year.
Stress costs the U.S. an estimated $500 million annually.
Bicycling simultaneously tackles all of these issues.
However, it's not as simple as keeping roads closed to traffic and building more bicycle lanes—bicycling and related policies need to be more inclusive.
Black and Hispanic bicyclists are often underrepresented in bicyclists counts, as Julian Agyeman, a professor of Urban and Environmental Policy and Planning at Tufts University, points out, because data is often taken in downtown areas neglecting outer neighborhoods.
Because of this skewed data, urban planners see the need is greatest downtown and that's where bicycle lanes and other infrastructure goes.
There's also racial profiling issues: investigations in Chicago and Tampa Bay, Florida, show that Black and Hispanic riders are much more likely to receive bicycle citations than white bicyclists.
COVID-19 and the killing of George Floyd have been a wakeup call for society and have caused tremendous pain and suffering.
Here's to hoping that as we emerge society places more value on healthier bodies, racial equity, cleaner air, quieter streets, a slowing down of our fast-paced lives, and the bicycle, which can help us achieve all of the above.
Banner photo: Bicycle event in Detroit, 2013. (Credit: Russ/flickr)
Coral reefs globally are turning white and dying due to record ocean heat, marking the fourth mass bleaching event, according to NOAA.
The bleaching, caused by stress from hot water, threatens marine life, fishing industries, and economies reliant on coral reefs.
Rising ocean temperatures, exacerbated by climate change and El Niño, pose an existential threat to coral ecosystems.
Key quote:
"It's like going from corals providing houses and buildings for marine life to just being scaffolding. What really wants to live in scaffolding?"
— Jennifer McWhorter, NOAA.
Why this matters:
Coral reefs, vital to marine ecosystems, are under severe threat from climate change-induced bleaching. The loss of coral not only impacts biodiversity but also jeopardizes industries reliant on healthy oceans. Read more: Unexpected ocean heat waves are becoming the norm.
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.”
Todd Stern, former U.S. climate envoy, criticizes political leaders for their cautious approach to climate change, claiming it jeopardizes global safety.
Todd Stern rebukes leaders who advocate for slowing down decarbonization, arguing it leads to global catastrophe.
Stern emphasizes that advancements in renewable energy and technology prove that achieving net-zero emissions by 2050 is feasible.
He warns against the dangers of right-wing populism in Europe, which may undermine climate action efforts.
Key quote:
"We are slowed down by those who think of themselves as grownups and believe decarbonisation at the speed the climate community calls for is unrealistic."
Investigative journalists delve into the intricate strategies deployed by the fossil fuel industry to sow doubt and misinformation, urging the public to remain vigilant amidst mounting climate crises.
Energy security narratives from the fossil fuel industry often overlook alternative sources and promote nationalistic undertones, despite documented risks of dependency on hydrocarbons.
The fossil fuel industry has long pushed the false dichotomy of economy versus environment, using studies to argue that environmental action is economically detrimental.
Through propaganda campaigns, the fossil fuel industry shifts blame onto consumers, portraying fossil fuels as essential for progress and shaming individuals for their usage.
Key quote:
"Basically it’s a propaganda campaign."
— Robert Brulle, environmental sociologist at Brown University
Australia's unique wildlife faces extinction due to habitat degradation, invasive species, and climate change.
Scientists propose altering animal genomes through techniques like crossbreeding and gene editing to enhance species' survival traits.
Interventions like genetic rescue aim to increase genetic diversity and resilience in endangered populations.
Key quote:
"Let’s lean into that, not be daunted by it. My view is that 50 years from now, biologists and wildlife managers will look back at us and say, ‘Why didn’t they take the steps and the opportunities when they had the chance?’"
Residents of northern Patagonia are enduring increasing earthquakes caused by intensive fracking, with little action from Argentine regulators despite clear evidence linking the two.
In Argentina's Patagonia region, frequent earthquakes have become a norm due to intense fracking activities, severely impacting local communities and structures.
Despite clear links between fracking operations and seismic activities, regulatory bodies remain largely inactive, failing to provide necessary oversight or mitigation strategies.
Indigenous Mapuche communities, alongside other locals, experience significant distress and damage, with little to no governmental support or recourse.
Key quote:
"I have been completely traumatized."
— Ana Guircaleo, member of the Wirkaleo Mapuche community
Why this matters:
Seismic events triggered by fracking can have far-reaching consequences beyond property damage. They can disrupt local economies, causing financial strain on residents and businesses alike.
Fracking not only consumes vast amounts of water and releases greenhouse gases into the atmosphere but also has the potential to contaminate groundwater and surface water sources with harmful chemicals.
Biodegradable food packaging is a step in the right direction, experts say, but when composted carries risks of microplastic and chemical contamination.
Oregon’s Regenyx plant announced its closing in late February, with those involved calling it a success, despite never reaching planned capacity and millions of dollars lost.
