As the Smokehouse Creek fire rages on, Texas grapples with the escalating wildfire risks fueled by climate change, posing significant challenges to property insurance and homeowner costs.
The Smokehouse Creek fire, the largest in Texas history, exemplifies the heightened wildfire risks caused by a trio of weather conditions: high temperatures, low humidity, and strong winds.
Climate change has led to a 0.61°F increase per decade in Texas since 1975, contributing to longer and earlier fire seasons, and affecting the insurance market with rising premiums and insurers withdrawing from high-risk areas.
Texas, now second only to Florida in the number of properties vulnerable to wildfires, faces a year-round fire threat, shifting away from the traditional fire season concept.
Key quote:
"There were clear fire seasons for Texas in the past, but fires have become a year-round threat."
— Yongqiang Liu, meteorologist at the U.S. Forest Service’s Southern Research Station
Why this matters:
The increasing frequency and intensity of wildfires in Texas threaten lives and property and signal a broader trend of growing environmental challenges. These changes impact the insurance industry, prompting higher costs for homeowners and highlighting the urgent need for policy and climate action to mitigate risks and protect communities. The impacts of wildfires are more far-reaching than you may realize.
The Biden administration has issued new guidelines aimed at accelerating clean energy projects while considering their environmental and community impacts.
The new rules modify the National Environmental Policy Act to speed up project approvals while ensuring environmental and social justice considerations.
Agencies must complete environmental impact assessments within two years, a reduction from the previous average of 4.5 years.
The guidelines prioritize projects with long-term environmental benefits, allowing some to bypass extensive reviews.
Key quote:
"These reforms will deliver smarter decisions, quicker permitting, and projects that are built better and faster."
— Brenda Mallory, chair of the White House Council on Environmental Quality
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.”
Delegates could not reach an agreement on setting sustainable plastic production limits, despite extending negotiations beyond the initial deadline.
Countries committed to further technical discussions before the final negotiations in Busan, focusing on identifying hazardous plastics and redesigning packaging.
More than 50 countries supported analyzing sustainable production levels, but faced opposition from major petrochemical producers.
Key quote:
"Science is clear: we must first address the unsustainable levels of plastic production if we want to end plastic pollution globally.
— Christophe Bechu, France's minister for ecological transition.
Kentucky Attorney General Russell Coleman has secured additional funding to legally challenge new environmental regulations imposed by the Biden administration, which target fossil fuel emissions and pollution.
Coleman argues the EPA's regulations will adversely affect electricity prices and reliability in Kentucky, particularly concerning coal power.
The state legislature, supporting Coleman, allocated $3 million from the budget reserve to fund these legal battles.
Environmental advocates criticize the expenditure, pointing out the utility sector's ongoing transition away from coal due to economic and environmental pressures.
Key quote:
"We're going to be pushing back and fighting the EPA particularly in a way that is unprecedented."
— Russell Coleman, Attorney General of Kentucky
Why this matters:
The Commonwealth of Kentucky, historically reliant on coal as a cornerstone of its economy, finds itself at a crossroads where the health of its citizens and their environment are increasingly weighed against the livelihoods that the fossil fuel industry supports. The new regulations, which proponents argue are essential to combat climate change and protect public health, are seen by some in the coal industry as a threat to jobs and economic stability.
Find out more: EHN's Kristina Marusic recently reported on how protesters confronted coal and steel executives about their industries' contributions to poor health in western Pennsylvania.
SUVs and pickups, favored by lax policies, now make up more than 80% of new car sales, exacerbating safety risks for pedestrians and increasing carbon emissions.
Federal policies, including the Corporate Average Fuel Economy standards, encourage larger vehicles by offering more lenient fuel efficiency requirements for "light trucks."
Recent revisions by the EPA to vehicle greenhouse gas rules aim to address some issues but still allow large electric vehicles to evade stricter emissions standards.
Key quote:
"People like me were saying, 'give carmakers another loophole and they’ll use it. But we lost."
— Dan Becker, former Sierra Club executive
Why this matters:
In addition to safety concerns, this trend toward brawnier transportation puts pressure on fuel economy targets and climate change efforts. While advancements in technology have made larger vehicles more fuel-efficient than they once were, they still lag behind smaller, lighter vehicles in terms of miles per gallon. The result is a transportation sector that could be moving counter to environmental goals, just as the urgency to address climate change intensifies.
Texas is increasing permits for oilfield wastewater discharges due to concerns about earthquake risks from underground disposal.
Environmentalists and scientists question the safety of this practice, noting the potential for pollution from toxic and radioactive substances in the water.
The state is under pressure to develop new water quality standards that address the unique contaminants found in oilfield wastewater.
Key quote:
“Let’s make sure that, as they develop their plans, they keep the best interest of the river in mind and not just some nebulous idea that it’s a place to dump water anytime you want to.”
— Ira Yates, founder of Friends of the Pecos
Why this matters:
Discharging treated oilfield wastewater into rivers like the Pecos could impact water quality and ecosystem health, posing risks to wildlife and potentially human health. Health implications loom large for communities downstream who rely on the river for drinking water, recreation, and agriculture. There’s a palpable fear that despite the best treatment efforts, unknown risks may compromise the quality of life for those who have long depended on the purity of the river.
Renowned environmental scientist Diana Wall, known for her pivotal contributions to soil ecology and sustainability, died on March 25, leaving behind a profound legacy at Colorado State University.
Diana Wall, a highly respected scientist at Colorado State University, significantly advanced our understanding of soil biodiversity and its critical links to climate change.
Her interdisciplinary research emphasized the vital role of nematodes in soil ecosystems and their resilience in extreme environments like Antarctica.
Wall's dedication extended beyond research; she was a key figure in developing CSU’s School of Global Environmental Sustainability and a mentor to many in the scientific community.
Key quote:
"Diana was not only a brilliant ecologist, but also kind, and she treated people and the planet with utmost respect."
— CSU President Amy Parsons
Why this matters:
Diana Wall's work helped us understand the subtle yet crucial interplay between soil health and global climate patterns. Her legacy continues through ongoing research and the many scientists she inspired, emphasizing the lasting impact of committed researchers on both academia and global environmental policy.
