I've been a member of a worthy non-profit, The Society of Environmental Journalists (SEJ), since one year after its 1991 founding.
Every once in a while, I pester its 1,200 members to consider a special award for I-told-you-so reporting—honoring an environment reporter who shouts into the winds of political clout or simple indifference to a looming disaster.
Arguably, the best-known American example of this is Mark Schleifstein, the veteran New Orleans scribe who said his Times-Picayune boss dismissed his hurricane warnings as "disaster porn" until Hurricane Katrina nearly took New Orleans off the map.
I wrote about Schleifstein and several more exemplars in a 2017 piece for Ensia, "Forewarned."
This month, a new entry came in—one with a roughly 18 year lead time.
In 2003, St. Petersburg Times reporters Craig Pittman, Julie Hauserman, and Candace Rondeaux filed a story about gypsum "stacks," the benign-sounding name for highly acidic waste heaps from phosphate mining operations. The reporters followed a twisted tale of bankruptcies, lax government oversight, and a potentially major threat to ecologically sensitive areas of Tampa Bay. Their focus was the waste area called Piney Point.
In March, the warnings about Piney Point became reality. About one-third of the nearly half-billion gallons of highly contaminated water had leaked from the site.
When Pittman followed up on the site this year, he did so from a decidedly different platform. His 30-year career at the paper (it's the Tampa Bay Times now) ended with a staff reduction last year. He's now a columnist for the nonprofit startup Florida Phoenix.
So since no Pulitzer Prize yet exists for I-told-you-so, let's award our first mythical prize to Pittman, Hauserman, and Rondeaux. It's no comfort to journalists to be vindicated in this way, but it's a useful reminder that we often ignore their warnings.
Hall of fame
Or maybe what's needed is a Hall of Fame for environmental reporters. Environmental pursuits, whether by journalists, scientists, or activists, have enough of a history and track record that someone ought to be keeping score.
Here are some, in no particular order:
The late Paul MacLennan, who covered Great Lakes issues for the Buffalo News for decades, and Michael Brown of the neighboring Niagara Gazette, who reported some of the first I-told-you-so stories on a blighted neighborhood called Love Canal;
Phil Shabecoff, who led the beat at the New York Times in the 1980's and later founded the daily briefing Greenwire. Shabecoff has said that his removal from the NYT beat followed top-level concern that his use of the word "slaughter" to describe an annual rounding up and killing of dolphins in Japan betrayed his departure from daily journalism;
Beth Parke, SEJ's first and only Executive Director for its first quarter-century;
Tom Horton, longtime Baltimore Sun reporter and Bard of the Chesapeake Bay;
Rachel Carson. Of course.
It's time for environmental journalists to recognize the best of their profession, and brag a little about excellence and accuracy.
My examples are only some starting points. Email me at pdykstra@ehn.org or Tweet at @pdykstra with your picks.
Peter Dykstra is our weekend editor and columnist.
His views do not necessarily represent those of Environmental Health News, The Daily Climate, or publisher, Environmental Health Sciences.
Banner photo credit: New Orleans, September 20, 2005. Houses in the ninth ward section of the city were raised off their foundations and tossed into each other by the floodwaters of Hurricane Katrina. (Credit: mad mags/flickr)
Major oil companies have donated millions to prestigious universities to shape research and gain favorable insights for their business interests.
Congressional investigators released documents showing that these partnerships were designed to influence perceptions of oil and gas companies in climate debates.
Critics argue that the industry is leveraging its academic relationships to minimize its responsibility for climate change and avoid meaningful emission reductions.
Key quote:
“The evidence uncovered by Oversight Committee Democrats shows that Big Oil has run campaigns to confuse and mislead the public while working unceasingly to lock down a fossil fuel future.”
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.”
Energy ministers from the G7 are set to endorse an agreement to cease coal use in power generation by the mid-2030s, with potential exceptions for Germany and Japan.
The G7 commitment targets the elimination of coal-fired power plants by the early 2030s, yet allows flexibility for member states under certain conditions.
Germany and Japan may continue using coal beyond the general deadline due to their significant reliance on coal power.
The decision aligns with global efforts from last year's COP28 summit, aiming to reduce the most harmful fossil fuel emissions.
Key quote:
"We are working on it, I cannot go any further... if there is a final decision I will communicate it,"
— Gilberto Pichetto Fratin, Italian Energy Minister
Why this matters:
The agreement, expected to be formally endorsed soon, signals a strong commitment from some of the world's largest economies to reduce greenhouse gas emissions and transition away from fossil fuels, which are major contributors to climate change. The decision aligns with scientific calls to limit global warming to 1.5 degrees Celsius above pre-industrial levels—a target that requires drastic reductions in carbon emissions.
Minecraft's "Heat Wave Survival" game personifies extreme heat as a dragon, teaching players about heat-related illness prevention.
A new game under development encourages players to build cities with renewable energy and heat-resilient infrastructure.
The "Green Game Jam" motivates companies like Sony and Google to incorporate eco-friendly themes into video games.
Key quote:
“As we face the urgent challenges ahead, I believe that such games can play a crucial role in fostering understanding, dialogue and action.”
— Sam Illingworth, game developer and science communications expert at Edinburgh Napier University
Why this matters:
By embedding environmental challenges within popular gaming formats, engaging games can sensitize young minds to the reality of climate change and inspire actionable knowledge. Read more: Earth Day reflections from the next generation.
Amid widespread climate anxiety, 2024 has ushered in numerous environmental successes, from renewable energy breakthroughs to significant legislative reforms.
Renewable energy use is surging with initiatives like residential solar projects and increased wind power installations showing significant growth.
Legislation is playing a key role with new EU laws on packaging waste reduction and the ratification of the High Seas Treaty to protect marine life.
Community and technological innovations, such as nature being recognized on streaming platforms and the boom in solar balconies in Germany, illustrate grassroots and technological impacts on sustainability.
Why this matters:
Positive environmental developments not only offer hope but also showcase effective strategies for mitigating climate change and protecting our planet. Read more: EHN's top 5 good news stories of 2023.
Despite promises of economic growth, Shell's ethane cracker in Beaver County, Pennsylvania has drawn legal challenges and health concerns over its emissions and pollution.
Residents of Beaver County are moving away due to air and noise pollution from Shell's recently built ethane cracker plant.
The plant has already been fined $10 million for exceeding emission limits and is facing lawsuits from locals affected by the pollution.
Health concerns include the effects of VOCs and other hazardous pollutants on the community, particularly on children.
Key quote:
“It was very clear what kind of facility this was going to be. We all knew it was going to be bad, but it’s shockingly bad.”
— Anaïs Peterson, petrochemicals campaigner for Earthworks
Why this matters:
Ethane cracker plants are industrial sites that process ethane—a component of natural gas—into polyethylene, a plastic used widely in products from packaging to automotive parts. While these plants are touted for their economic benefits, including job creation and local business support, the environmental and health impacts can be profound. Health concerns are mounting for residents living near the Shell ethane cracker plant in Beaver County, as exposure to pollutants commonly emitted from these plants, such as volatile organic compounds and fine particulate matter, can lead to respiratory problems, heart disease, and other serious health issues.
Texas rancher Schuyler Wight is taking a stand against the pollution caused by orphaned oil and gas wells that is endangering both his ranch and the state's environment.
More than 8,400 orphan wells dot Texas, causing environmental and health hazards as they leak harmful substances.
Despite state efforts to plug these wells, the backlog and emerging issues mean many remain a threat, including on Wight's ranch.
Ranchers like Wight, facing immediate impacts, argue for more aggressive state action to tackle the problem effectively.
Key quote:
“I know you think it’s just a wasteland, but we live out there. We have to work out there. We have to drink that water. Our cattle have to drink that water.”
— Schuyler Wight, rancher
Why this matters:
The unchecked spread of orphan wells, abandoned by defunct or untraceable operators, have been left to the whims of time and erosion, often without proper closure, leading to a variety of environmental risks. For example, the contaminants can seep into groundwater, posing severe risks to drinking water supplies and agricultural water sources. This contamination has been linked to an array of health issues ranging from respiratory problems to neurological disorders, depending on the nature and concentration of the pollutants.
