What’s Needed to Save Wolverines? A New Study Has Answers

Policymakers can’t hide behind a lack of research anymore when it comes to enacting meaningful conservation measures to protect dwindling wolverine populations.

Wolverines are notoriously elusive, which has made them hard to study. And harder to protect.

Often dwelling in high mountain reaches and denning in deep snow, wolverines (Gulo gulo) prefer to stay away from people. Although evidence has long suggested their populations have declined, some scientists and policymakers have, for years, fallen back on a common trope that not enough is known about them to warrant protective action.

But a new study published in Global Ecology and Conservation flips this narrative — and renews the call for conservation.

“It turns out we actually know a lot more than we thought we did about this creature,” says Aerin Jacob, a conservation scientist at the Yellowstone to Yukon Conservation Initiative.

Jacob and a team of 15 other researchers surveyed the scientific literature and found 156 peer-reviewed studies about wolverines published in English — mostly from North America and Scandinavia — in the past 20 years.

“We can’t just keep hiding behind the idea that wolverines are hard to study and so we’re going to ignore them,” says lead author Jason Fisher, a wildlife ecologist at the University of Victoria. “I think the big take-home from the study is that we do know a lot about what’s affecting them. We can do something about this now, so let’s get to it.”

The Threats

The review of wolverine research found a troubling trend.

“By and large we’re finding that wolverine populations are declining in some part of their range all over the world,” says Jacob. The species lives in many parts of the global North, including Russia and Mongolia.

Broadly speaking, the biggest threats come from people — specifically landscape changes and climate change, although there are some geographic differences. In places like British Columbia and Scandinavia, hunting and trapping of wolverines are also big threats.

In other parts of Canada, including Alberta, landscape changes are the key factor.

“The places that used to be pretty far tucked away are now being very heavily developed for oil and gas, forestry, and recreation,” says Fisher. “And it’s those incursions that are taking a big toll on wolverines.”

Across Canada’s southern border, things are even more dire. Wolverines used to range across large parts of the United States, from coast to coast and as far south as New Mexico. But European colonization has pushed wolverines into just the upper Rocky and Cascade mountains. Only 300 or so of the animals remain in the lower 48 states.

There, ample snow, especially in the spring when females are denning, seems to be an important factor in wolverine survival.

tracks in snow — Wolverine tracks in a snow field. Photo: NPS/Cascades Carnivore Project

“The populations left behind now most definitely need those mountain strongholds and need snow,” says Fisher. “If not for snow itself, then at least for the things that snow represents, whether that’s dens for kits or it’s places where other species can’t live.”

Recent research shows that wolverines face a lot of competition, but they can outcompete other predators, such as coyotes, in deep snow because they’re especially adapted to it, including having “monstrous, snowshoe paws,” he says.

A reduced snowpack from climate change poses an additional threat for the remaining populations.

So too does more people getting out into the backcountry, such as skiers accessing mountain areas by helicopter and snowcat.

“Even though wolverines can fight off bigger carnivores — including grizzlies — from a kill, the research also shows they’re incredibly sensitive to human activities,” says Jacob. “That can be something we think of as insignificant, like recreation in the wrong places at the wrong times. Or it can be landscape-scale change that you can really see. All of these things add up to affect a species that’s really sensitive to people.”

Scaling Solutions

In recent years wolverines have benefitted from a few conservation programs at the regional level.

In Scandinavia, Indigenous Sámi have traditionally hunted and trapped wolverines to reduce their numbers and protect reindeer herds they rely on for their livelihoods. Sweden has implemented a program to compensate Sámi for not killing wolverines that’s shown success, says Fisher.

“In British Columbia there’s been extensive work that shows that wolverines are overharvested — they have the most liberal harvest on the planet,” he says. “But they have made some regional changes to their harvest policy to decrease that pressure.”

In other parts of the province, researchers have identified areas where female wolverines are denning and posted notices informing recreationists to avoid those areas.

“Most people do it, even though it’s voluntary,” says Jacob. “But it’s important because it’s a critical time for a species that’s slow to reproduce and doesn’t have many babies.”

In Alberta dozens of overpasses and underpasses, along with corresponding roadside fencing, are helping wolverines and other animals safely cross busy highways around Banff National Park. Speeding cars, of course, pose a safety risk, but research has also found that female wolverines often won’t cross busy roads, and that poses a risk to the animal’s genetic diversity.

More wildlife crossing structures are needed along busy stretches of road, but we need to prevent more roads from being built in areas where we don’t have them, says Jacob.

“A male wolverine might have a territory of 380 square miles or more in some cases. And he will not share that with other male wolverines,” she says. “This is what makes wolverines unlike many other species.”

Wolverines need a lot of area to move — and those areas need to be connected.

“What this research tells us is that we have to be thinking about landscapes at really big scales,” says Jacob. “And unless we do that, wildlife, like wolverines, aren’t going to thrive.”

Next Steps

What’s needed next is a better-informed public and more action from decision-makers, say the researchers.

“Animals like caribou and grizzly get more attention — at least here in Canada,” says Fisher. “So we’re really hoping that some changes come really soon, before it’s too late for wolverines.”

Specifically he hopes that the research they’ve compiled can help drive support for reassessing wolverine populations and what’s needed to help them.

In Canada wolverines are listed as “special concern,” the lowest category for a species at risk of extinction. There’s no federal management plan for them, and in British Columbia, Jacob says, their provincial management plan hasn’t been updated in more than 30 years. In Alberta wolverines are designated as “data deficient,” which should also be reassessed in light of recent research, she says.

And in the United States, conservation groups are fighting a 2020 decision by the Fish and Wildlife Service to deny listing wolverines as threatened under the Endangered Species Act.

“What we’re really hoping is by producing this paper and getting this consensus opinion, that’ll drive governments to take a much closer look,” says Fisher. “Hopefully the United States will reconsider the endangered species listing, and Canada and individual jurisdictions will reassess wolverines and take some stronger conservation action because right now they’re really falling through the cracks.”

Previously in The Revelator:

Road to Nowhere: Highways Pose Existential Threat to Wolverines

Protect This Place: The Fragile and Enchanting Costa dos Corais

The coral reef ecosystems in Brazil’s largest coastal Marine Protected Area need defending against overfishing, tourism and global warming.

The place:

Costa dos Corais Environmental Protection Area, Northeastern Brazil

Why it matters:

Costa dos Corais harbors one of the largest reef formations in Brazil and is rich in biodiversity —groups of algae, fish, crustaceans, molluscs and aquatic mammals, along with its namesake corals. It’s home to endangered species like manatees, turtles and whales, and approximately 200,000 people live in the region, most of whom depend directly on the use of the reef’s natural resources for tourism and artisanal fishing.

The Costa dos Corais Environmental Protection Area was created by federal decree in 1997 to protect these fragile, enchanting reefs and their biodiversity. It’s the largest coastal marine protected area in Brazil: more than 1,540 square miles (400,000 hectares) extending along 75 miles (120 km) of beaches in the north (state of Pernambuco) and south (state of Alagoas). The area is classified as a “sustainable use conservation unit,” which aims to sustainably integrate conservation and uses like tourism and fishing.

Ecological, scientific and cultural tourism are among the management objectives of Costa dos Corais. Local projects seek to develop tourism sustainability, address the challenges of the local population — such as health, education, professional qualification and access to culture — and encourage the conservation and inspection of nature. There’s a constant dialogue between stakeholders and government to formalize the rules already established so tourism and care for the environment can coexist with mutual respect.

The threat:

One of the challenges in this area is expanding tourism, combined with insufficient monitoring of the effects of visitation on reef environments.

Thermal stress caused by global warming is also a major threat. Recently our research with the NGO Reef Conservation Project found an unprecedented coral mortality in the Costa dos Corais following the worst thermal stress event since 1985, when average live coral cover reduced by 18.1%. Mortality was highest for two endemic species (Millepora braziliensis and Mussismilia harttii).

My place in this place:

When I was just a girl, in love with nature and especially the sea, the question I most liked to answer was: “What will you be when you grow up?” Every time I would answer “a biologist.” And it was like that, without realizing that I made a promise, I would be a biologist — a marine biologist.

During my master’s degree program I undertook research at Costa dos Corais, exploring the conservation status of an endemic coral (Mussismilia harttii). It was love at first sight — I was enchanted with this place.

In 2017 I started my work at Reef Conservation Project, working directly in conservation and monitoring of fish and corals in the region, joining the management bodies in building good habits, environmental education and protection of the region. At Costa dos Corais I truly learned how to be a biologist — and understood that my dream had been fulfilled.

The author, center, with the Reef Conservation Project team.

It was wonderful to be able to get here, but it was challenging, I learned a lot and I still learn every day. I reinforce my commitment to being a biologist by taking care of the sea — and especially Costa dos Corais.

Who’s protecting it now:

The MPA Costa dos Corais is protected and managed by the Chico Mendes Institute for Biodiversity Conservation through its integrated management center located in the municipality of Tamandaré, state of Pernambuco. The Institute has partnerships with governmental institutions and private and nongovernmental organization, working to promote public policies for conservation through monitoring of biodiversity, production of studies, demonstration projects, environmental education, protection of endangered species, improvement of environmental legislation, communication and engagement of society.

What this place needs:

The region has consistent legislation in its management plan to inspect and coordinate the sustainable exploitation of its areas. However, it still requires support from the private sector, volunteers, and in-depth scientific exploration. We need a greater understanding of the biotic and abiotic processes present at the site, so that inspection is carried out effectively and fully to fully mitigate the impacts arising from problematic use of its resources. We also need to strengthen community-based tourism and include local populations in tourist activities.

Lessons from the fight:

Costa dos Corais is open to new partnerships and this will certainly expand and generate new knowledge, both for the management and for the community residing here. We’re always seeking to strengthen citizen science, where the local population is directly involved in the conservation of biodiversity, bringing a sense of belonging to this very rich ecosystem. Environmental education of tourists, easy accessibility to data and local actors are essential for the sustainable use of these areas and quality management to be achieved. Integrating society, universities, local institutions and management bodies in environmental preservation is a key path that needs to be taken.

Learn more:

Previously in The Revelator:

How the Golden Lion Tamarin Is Helping to Heal Brazil’s Rainforest

Plants Face Tough Climate Challenges as Seed-Dispersing Animals Decline

A new study shows how the concerning overlap between the biodiversity and climate crises.

Animals that eat fruit and spread the seeds in their droppings offer an all-inclusive transportation service for half the world’s flora. But as more seed-dispersing birds and mammals die off globally, some of these plant species will lose their ability to shift their locations to keep pace with escalating climate change, says new research.

“When you hear the headlines about the biodiversity crisis, some call it the sixth mass extinction, that decline of birds and mammals also means the decline of seed dispersers,” Evan Fricke, lead author of the new study, recently published in Science, said.

Fricke and colleagues reported that the loss of birds and mammals has reduced the ability of animal-dispersed plants to track climate change by 60%.

This number “is somewhere in the alarm bell territory,” he said. “I hope [this finding] focuses people’s attention on the importance of seed-disperser biodiversity for plant adaptation to climate change.”

“If there are no animals available to eat their fruits or carry away their nuts,” Fricke said in a press release, “animal-dispersed plants aren’t moving very far.”

As the climate warms, many species will need to change locations to stay within a temperature range that they can tolerate. On a mountain, this might mean they move upslope by just a few to tens of meters per year. On flatter terrain, organisms need to move toward the poles, perhaps hundreds of kilometers, to keep pace with climate change. The speed at which suitable climate zones move across the landscape (also known as the climate change velocity) is faster, and therefore more challenging, for plants to track on flat land.

While animals can crawl, fly, swim or walk to new places, plants cannot pick up and move. So the question, Fricke said, becomes: “How many seeds disperse at least that distance that the climate has shifted during the year? How many seeds are dispersed far enough to keep pace with that climate change?”

In the past, scientists have studied what the loss of seed-dispersing animals means for plants in ecosystems, and they’ve also studied how plant populations respond to climate change. But combining those two catastrophes — climate change and mass extinction — on a global scale has been a tougher nut to crack.

To accomplish this goal, the researchers used data from hundreds of past studies to train a machine-learning model to make estimates and conclusions about the loss of seed-dispersal services. The far-ranging data sets analyzed and compared IUCN data on worldwide animal populations; which seeds are dispersed by which animals; where and how far these animals travel; and how long seeds take to pass through the guts of their dispersers.

bear in berry bushes — A grizzly visiting berry bushes in Denali National Park. Photo: Sanjoy Ghosh, (CC BY 2.0)

Seed-dispersal losses, they found, are most extreme in the temperate regions of North America, Europe, South America and Australia. Extinction of the world’s current endangered species would most impact dispersal in tropical regions in South America, Africa and Southeast Asia.

“This paper is an elegant analysis of how the loss of animals will affect plants under climate change scenarios,” said Mauro Galetti, a seed-dispersal researcher from the University of Miami who was not involved in the study. “The results are worrisome because most natural ecosystems’ large fruit-eating animals are vanishing.”

The scientists also found that even just a small decline in the number of animal species leads to a massive decline in plants’ ability to track climate change. “One might expect that if a location loses 10% of its seed-dispersing animals, we would see a 10% decline in dispersal,” Fricke said, “but this is not the case.” When animals die off in an ecosystem, we’re often first losing the large ones — those that are the best at long-distance dispersal.

“We found regions where climate-tracking seed dispersal declined by 95%, even though they’d lost only a few percent of their mammal and bird species,” Fricke said.

“From elephants and gorillas in Africa, to toucans and tapirs in South America, large seed dispersers are vanishing rapidly and their dismissal will have strong consequences on seed dispersal,” Galetti said. “Many plants will be trapped in space without seed dispersers.”

This first global analysis of the loss of seed-dispersers, according to Fricke, demonstrates the critical interconnectedness of the climate change and biodiversity crises — two of the nine planetary boundaries identified by scientists. The destabilization and overshoot of one or more of these boundaries due to human interference could cause the failure of critical Earth operating systems.

“Biodiversity of seed-dispersing animals is key for the climate resilience of plants, which includes their ability to continue storing carbon and feeding people,” Fricke said. “Extinction and habitat loss damage complex ecological networks. This study shows animal declines can disrupt ecological networks in ways that threaten the climate resilience of entire ecosystems that people rely upon.”

This story originally appeared on Mongabay.

Previously in The Revelator:

For Species That Rely on Wind, Climate Change Won’t Be a Breeze

North Atlantic Mako Sharks Are Endangered — Now What?

This heavily exploited species just got a temporary reprieve, but new protections come with a ticking clock.

With their pointed snouts, slender gill slits, cobalt-blue skin, flashing metallic sides and white bellies, North Atlantic shortfin mako sharks are a stunning sight. They’re deadly fast, too, reaching speeds up to 45 miles per hour — the fastest sharks in the ocean. As apex predators, they evolved in a niche that helped maintain ecological balance by controlling prey populations. Through a diet of big, meaty fish like tuna and swordfish, makos can grow to 13 feet in length and live up to 30 years.

Assuming they can survive that long.

A lack of fishing regulations means that as many as 1 million shortfin mako sharks are caught and killed every year.

Some species could survive that pressure. Not makos. Their late breeding — females don’t reach sexual maturity until age 19 — and the fact that their prey are also heavily overfished leaves them especially vulnerable.

In fact most makos are caught unintentionally by fishing boats seeking other species — a well-documented, avoidable, unmitigated disaster and one of the clearest, most catastrophic shark conservation crises in the world.

Mako tagging — Safina with a mako shark tagged for scientific study. Photo used with permission.

This disaster truly surfaced in 2017, when an assessment by the International Commission for Conservation of Atlantic Tunas — the management body responsible for the well-being of large migratory fish species in the Atlantic Ocean — found the population overfished. Another 2017 report found that even if we stopped all catch of makos today, it would still take the deeply depleted population more than five decades to fully recover. These reports landed North Atlantic makos on the IUCN Red List as endangered in 2018.

Still, the commission failed to take serious action until late 2021, when it finally passed some protections for North Atlantic mako sharks.

Those protections come with a ticking clock.

Delayed Action

Last November delegates to the ICCAT convened virtually for their annual meeting. Far removed from the high-running groundswell and moodiness of the North Atlantic Ocean, committee members met to decide their role in determining the fate of the rapidly declining North Atlantic mako shark. As usual they tossed around jargon like “landing rates” and “retention bans.” Notes were taken, coffee was sipped, points were argued, and disagreements were vigorous.

But this time, progress was made.

Up for debate was the implementation of an “international retention ban” on North Atlantic mako sharks. That’s jargon again, but such a ban would mean no mako sharks could be brought to land. Any mako shark caught while fishing for, say, tuna or swordfish would have to be released — or, if dead upon arrival, discarded. Canada had already implemented its own national retention ban and first proposed the international version in October 2020, backed by ample scientific evidence of rapid decline and the support of the commission’s scientists.

After more than four years of commission scientists warning us about the vulnerability of mako sharks, the committee finally listened. Thanks largely to the leadership of Canada, the United Kingdom, Senegal and Gabon, the committee agreed on a two-year full international retention ban of all mako sharks, the first step in a long-term, international rebuilding plan for this population.

As Sonja Fordham, president of Shark Advocates International, said after the November committee meeting, “With all the existing commitments and warnings about the dire status of makos, this win should not have been this hard.”

The move was a success — undeniable progress — but not nearly enough.

What Next?

Although this two-year international retention ban does show progress, the question remains, what happens after it expires?

Even with the ban, mako sharks are still coveted, not only for their meat and fins, but as a prize catch for sport fishermen. And their widespread range means that both individual and commercial catches boost local economies. So it’s no surprise that the countries with the highest global mako catch rates — the United States, members of the European Union (primarily Spain and Portugal) and Morocco — were the groups that consistently opposed the proposed ban on keeping makos. They cited the usual short term “economic reasons” that in the long-term drive people broke, until now.

During the November meeting, the European Union, which has long been the biggest offender of North Atlantic shortfin mako catch — it took 74% of the total mako catch last year — held firm on a complicated cocktail of conditions, potentially setting itself up to exploit some loopholes after the short respite. In the words of Ali Hood, director of conservation for the Shark Trust, “At long last, we have the basis for a game-changing rebuilding plan, but it won’t be successful if we take our eyes off the EU and their egregious intent to resume fishing a decade before rebuilding is predicted to begin.” We can’t afford to slide backward just as progress starts.

Retention bans, when done right, can work. Through a recent study, the commission found that makos caught and then released have a 77% chance of surviving, proving that this ruling, plus other mitigation strategies, could be a straightforward way to help this population and immediately stop mortality.

But it can’t work with loopholes, and it can’t work in two years. The U.S. National Marine Fisheries Service needs to enforce regulations specifying that this retention ban is not just for open ocean (pelagic) fisheries but for all boats in all water. If done swiftly, that could fill some regulatory cracks before anyone can slip through.

Experts agree that two years is not nearly enough for this population to fully recover. As of now, the current ruling states that after 2023 shortfin mako sharks will once again be up for grabs. Boats in the North Atlantic will be able to land mako sharks if the total bycatch from the previous year is under 250 metric tons. For context, according to ICCAT scientists, the EU alone landed 1,261 metric tons in 2020, so while this quota is a definite improvement, it still creates some upsetting possibilities. By allowing any landings you open the door to a whole array of possible half-truths and lies, fudging bycatch numbers, claiming the mako was dead on arrival — anything to justify landing these sharks.

To avoid this, member countries need to align their conservation goals to be a unified front against powerful parties like the EU — insisting on a full international retention ban and nothing less.

Conservationists, divers, scientists, aquarists and elected representatives who have been steady advocates for these sharks cannot let up now. These people, dubbed the “voice of the makos” by Hood, have been crucial to the victory and should continue to fight.

Finally, those on the water — fishermen, who witness the athleticism of makos firsthand through a whipping metallic blue tail or a splash of white belly in the waves — need to do their part, too. Historically, sport and recreational fishermen have resented and resisted any bans on landing makos. Catching them is a thrill and a challenge — the focus of intense “mako tournaments,” where fishermen compete to catch the heaviest shark for a cash prize. For many of these fishermen, the mako victory out of ICCAT was bad news for their sport and a personal disappointment for those who never crossed a mako off their fishing bucket list.

But abiding by, and actively supporting, these regulations will go a long way — not just for making sure these sharks are around for future anglers to enjoy, but also for helping to maintain a healthy ocean ecosystem that can provide joy and sustenance for years to come. By encouraging fellow anglers to support the retention ban, recreational fishermen have a chance to be the strongest “voice of the makos.”

The makos caught a temporary break this time. All of us, together, need to make sure it lasts.

The opinions expressed above are those of the authors and do not necessarily reflect those of The Revelator, the Center for Biological Diversity or its employees.

Previously in The Revelator:

How to Save Sharks and Rays From Extinction

Why the Chemical Industry Is an Overlooked Climate Foe — and What to Do About It

It’s time to overhaul the chemical industry — for the sake of fenceline communities and the rest of the planet.

Climate change is quickly evolving into climate catastrophe, and there’s a narrow window of time to do something about it. While the world works on solutions, there’s surprisingly little focus on the chemical industry, which accounts for roughly 7% of global greenhouse gas emissions — as well as other environmental harms.

Weak or nonexistent regulations of the industry have led to widespread cancer, respiratory illnesses, and even facility explosions, primarily in low-income communities and communities of color.

But the industry essentially has a free pass to continue business as usual — it just keeps on keepin’ on, with little accountability.

The same holds true when it comes to the industry’s contributions to our warming planet, which is happening in three major ways:

First, fossil fuels are the “feedstocks” for chemical manufacturing, meaning that oil, natural gas and coal are used as raw material for chemicals. Global plastic production relies heavily on fossil fuel feedstocks and is expected to grow by 40% by 2030. That will bring more environmental problems. Around 98% of single-use plastic is derived from fossil fuels, and it releases greenhouse gas emissions at every stage of its life cycle. Only a small amount of plastic products are recycled. Most end up in landfills or the environment, and nearly one-quarter is incinerated, releasing millions of metric tons of carbon dioxide and other harmful air pollutants.

Second, fossil fuels power chemical manufacturing. Some of the most commonly manufactured “primary” chemicals, like ethylene, propylene, benzene, toluene, ammonia and methanol, account for two-thirds of the energy used by the industry, according to the International Energy Agency.

While the industry has implemented some energy efficiency measures and low-carbon technology, direct carbon dioxide emissions from chemical production have continued to increase.

Third, the chemical industry contributes to climate change by producing chemicals that are themselves potent greenhouse gases. For example, hydrofluorocarbons, used as refrigerants and foam-blowing agents, are 3,800 times more damaging to the climate than carbon dioxide.

Under the Kigali Amendment of the Montreal Protocol, countries have committed to cutting production and consumption of HFCs by at least 80% by 2047. And just this year, the EPA announced a goal to reduce U.S. production. But this may create new problems. For example, some proposed plans for capturing HFCs (rather than replacing them with safer chemicals that don’t harm the climate) will result in emissions of other hazardous air pollutants like chloroform, hydrochloric acid, chlorine and hydrogen fluoride. All of these hazardous air pollutants contribute to the cumulative burden faced by fenceline communities.

Finally, not only does chemical production and use contribute to climate change — the intensifying weather patterns of climate change will worsen the industry’s environmental and public health impacts. Chemical and petrochemical facilities are concentrated along the Gulf Coast of Texas and Louisiana: the very same areas that are and will be hit hard by hurricanes, flooding and sea-level rise. Many of these facilities are unprepared for these effects, increasing the risk of catastrophic chemical disasters — predominantly in communities of color and low-income communities.

Across the country, hundreds of thousands of aboveground storage facilities containing hazardous chemicals — such as arsenic, formaldehyde, and trichloroethylene — are NOT subject to state or federal rules designed to prevent and mitigate spills.https://t.co/C9tYm94kIP

— Center for Progressive Reform (@CPRBlog) December 22, 2021

Ultimately, to mitigate the worst impacts of climate change, limit the risk of chemical disasters, and begin to remedy a legacy of environmental injustice, we must significantly reduce and replace the use of fossil fuels in every part of the chemical industry, which needs a systemic overhaul.

It’s a mighty task. Only a handful of more than 40,000 chemicals on the market have ever been restricted; even asbestos hasn’t been fully banned. There are still almost 3.5 billion pounds of hazardous releases to the environment every year. The United States is covered with 1,300 toxic “Superfund” sites, plus thousands more contaminated sites.

But that hasn’t stopped affected communities and organizations from banding together to say enough is enough. Recently a group of more than 100 health, science and environmental justice groups called for a transformation of the chemical industry with the release of the new Louisville Charter.

Named after an area in Kentucky with 11 industrial facilities that release millions of pounds of toxic air emissions every year — disproportionately impacting people of color — the Charter’s 10 principles outline a vision for how to overhaul chemical policies in favor of safety, health, equity and justice, and how to avoid false solutions that simply shift harms to other people and places.

These principles include calls to reduce or eliminate fossil fuel use, substitute toxic chemicals with safer alternatives, remedy environmental injustice, end subsidies for polluting companies, and give communities and workers information about chemical risks and the ability to act upon these disclosures.

We can make gains to achieve these goals if Congress passes the Environmental Justice for All Act and the Build Back Better Act, which would advance the some, but not all, of the Charter’s principles. More action is needed, and the Charter can guide the way.

Whether it’s to solve climate change, stop toxic chemicals from bombarding overburdened communities, or reduce hazardous substances in household products, we need to start replacing harmful chemicals with safe alternatives. No more free passes.

The opinions expressed above are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect those of The Revelator, the Center for Biological Diversity or its employees.

Previously in The Revelator:

It’s Time to Stop Rolling the Dice on Chemical Disasters

This Unsung Aquatic Hero Could Get a Big Boost From Dam Removals

Freshwater mussels are some of the most imperiled species in North America. Experts say we can change that by rethinking our infrastructure.

In September 2018 an explosion rocked the Bloede Dam on Maryland’s Patapsco River, a few miles west of Baltimore. The breach and subsequent removal of the long-dormant, decaying and dangerous dam allowed the river to run free for the first time in more than a century and opened 60 miles of habitat. Experts hailed the project as a boon to public safety, recreation and ecological restoration efforts — especially since it eliminated a key barrier to migratory fish such as shad, herring and American eels.

But another small, inconspicuous animal may also get a boost from the dam removal: eastern elliptio, a freshwater mussel that’s common to the region but has long since disappeared from the river.

Sadly, its plight is becoming the norm.

North America boasts nearly one third of the world’s 900 freshwater mussel species. But pollution, invasive species, and changes in stream flows and water quality from development have all taken their toll on mussel populations. Scientists estimate that 38 of the continent’s species have gone extinct in the past 100 years, and 95 are listed as threatened or endangered in the United States.

One of the biggest factors in the U.S. decline has been the construction of dams — more than 84,000 of them, which has fragmented rivers and altered water flows, sediment, habitat and temperatures.

Fortunately, the tide seems to be turning on dams, as many have outlived their usefulness and their ecological consequences have become better understood. In the past two decades, more than 1,200 dams have been demolished across the United States.

Can more removals help protect what’s left of our freshwater mussel diversity? Recent river restoration efforts show reasons for hope.

But, like with most ecosystems, it’s complicated.

Unsung Heroes

“When people look at rivers, they might think about the fish swimming in them, but they really don’t think about all of the other creatures that are found there,” says Emilie Blevins, a biologist working on freshwater mussel conservation at the nonprofit Xerces Society.

Because they spend their lives submerged and often are dusted with sediment, freshwater mussels are one of those often overlooked, she says. But they’re also one of the most important.

The mollusks act as tiny, but efficient water filters, helping to improve water quality as they consume algae, phytoplankton, bacteria and organic particles from their surroundings. “When we lose mussels, the quality of an ecosystem goes down, and then we see those effects later downstream — you might see increased nutrient pollution, followed by algae blooms,” she says.

mussel on creek bottom — Western pearlshell mussels in Stillwater Creek. Photo: Roger Tabor / USFWS, (CC BY-NC 2.0).

In addition, mussel beds are known as “hotspots of biological activity” because they support so much other life. They can stabilize streambeds, provide habitat for other aquatic species, and serve as prey for an array of wildlife including birds, muskrats, turtles, otters, skunks and fish.

Their sedentary lifestyle serves all these roles — with only a single foot, freshwater mussels aren’t very mobile. “They can move meters over the course of their lifetime, not miles,” says Cody Fleece, an aquatic ecologist with the engineering services company Stantec.

But mussels do still get around, as they’ve developed an evolutionary fix to expand their ranges. Females release larva — known as glochidia — that then attach to the gills or skin of a passing fish. Some species have even developed special adaptations to lure or grab potential hosts.

As larvae-carrying fish swim up and down rivers, the glochidia hang on for weeks or months until they undergo a metamorphosis to the juvenile stage. That’s when they finally drop off — ideally, in suitable new habitat.

Success is a game of numbers. A female freshwater mussel releases thousands of glochidia, few of which will make it to the juvenile stage. But the ones that survive can be long-lived, with lifespans that can stretch across decades or even a century, depending on the species.

Of everything that needs to go right in a mussel’s life history, finding a host fish is the crux. Some mussels can rely on multiple kinds of hosts, but others prefer one particular species. For example, the endangered pearl mussel (Margaritifera margaritifera) relies on juvenile trout and salmon as their glochidia hosts.

“Freshwater mussels really don’t exist without their host fish,” says Blevins. “And that’s why they can be really sensitive to a range of impacts that affect fish, including dam building.”

Barriers to Reproduction

Eastern elliptio disappeared from the Patapsco River over the past 50 to 100 years because dams blocked the passage of migratory fish — particularly their favorite, American eels.

“When you have a blockage to migratory fish — from a series of dams or one really large dam — and you can’t get migratory fish upstream to where the mussels are, eventually reproduction just stops,” says Matt Ashton, an aquatic biologist at Maryland’s Department of Natural Resources. “You need to have the right fish and you need to have them in enough numbers.” He says the problem is prevalent in mid-Atlantic and Northeast states.

It’s a similar story in the Pacific Northwest, where freshwater mussels such as western pearlshells rely on seagoing salmon that have been blocked by dams from reaching upstream habitat — and the mussels who live there. “Based on what I’ve seen, dams are a real concern for mussels in the western U.S.,” says Blevins.

In areas of the Midwest and Southeast where migratory fish aren’t the key host for freshwater mussels, the story is a little different.

“For the most part, [freshwater mussels] are using hosts that have small ranges,” says Ashton. “So the dams don’t necessarily fragment those mussels and stop reproduction, they just alter habitat.”

two mussels with pit tags — Freshwater mussels of the species eastern elliptio. Photo: Will Parson/Chesapeake Bay Program. Used with permission.

But that can also mean trouble.

The transformation of a free-flowing river into a pool of slack water behind a dam often creates unsuitable conditions for mussels (and sometimes their host fish, too). Mussels can also become stranded when water recedes in the reservoir during low flows.

“Mussels aren’t very happy right upstream of a dam in general,” says aquatic ecologist Heidi Dunn, who works as a science coordinator for the consulting firm EcoAnalysts. Right below a dam isn’t great either, she says. High-velocity water releases can become a scour zone where the fast flow prevents mussels from getting a foothold. Cold water coming from very large dams can also disrupt mussel reproduction.

That all takes a toll. “Altered flow regimes and reservoirs caused by damming have resulted in the local extirpation of 30 to 60% of the native freshwater mussel species in many United States rivers,” according to a report from the Natural Resources Conservation Service.

Finding Solutions

When it comes to helping freshwater mussels in already altered environments, there’s no one-size-fits-all solution.

“There’s an argument that downstream of dams can be some of the most stable habitat because it isn’t as affected by changes in flows,” says Julie Devers, a state biologist in Maryland for the Natural Resources Conservation Service. “And so it can be a stronghold, sometimes, for freshwater mussels. But most of the aquatic biologists are on the same page that dam removal will result in a more connected ecosystem where fish can move freely, and the mussels can interact with their host fish in the most productive way.”

Because of that, more dam removals are being done with an eye to freshwater mussel protection or recovery — although fish are still often the species of primary concern.

Bloede dam removal — Bloede Dam removal in process. Maryland Department of Natural Resources Fishing and Boating Services/YouTube

The nonprofit American River reports that dam removals are expected to benefit imperiled mussels on the Tallapoosa River in Alabama, on the Brandywine River in Delaware, on the Cane and Tuckasegee rivers in North Carolina, on Conewango Creek in Pennsylvania, and many more.

Dunn is involved in a project still in the permitting stages in Grand Rapids, Michigan that would involve the removal of four low-head dams in an area of the Grand River with 27 species of freshwater mussels. Restoring the river, “should be a good thing in the long run,” for those mussels, she says.

But dam removals also need to be done in ways that protect existing freshwater mussel populations.

With the 2020 removal of Six Mile Dam on the Walhonding River in Ohio, for example, teams scoured areas above and below the dam to find — and relocate — some 12,000 bivalves, including 640 threatened rabbitsfoot mussels and 720 endangered sheepnose mussels.

Water levels behind the dam were also lowered in stages so that mussels in the reservoir could be recovered before they stranded in the mud.

Once they were relocated to other suitable habitat in the river, monitoring efforts have continued. “We put pit tags on them and last summer we went out with a pit tag reader and looked for all the mussels to make sure that the ones that we had moved had survived, which they did,” says Fleece.

Restoration Efforts

In some cases where freshwater mussel populations have already been lost — like on the Patapsco — researchers must go to greater lengths to try and restore them.

After three dams, including Bloede, were removed on the Patapsco, and a fourth added passage for American eels, eel numbers began increasing. Since the snakelike fish are the preferred host for eastern elliptio, researchers started an assisted migration process.

Eastern elliptio were taken from a reproducing population and relocated into areas of the Patapsco where they were likely to encounter eels. “We moved adults and essentially founded a new population in the hopes that we can jumpstart the natural process,” says Ashton.

The first group of mussels was moved in 2018, and a couple of hundred have been translocated every year since. Researchers track the mussels with tiny microchips affixed to their shells and most are staying in place and surviving, which is the first goal of the project.

Next is to have those mussels reproduce and expand the population, he says, which will still take several more years.

Conservationists encountered a different situation on the Susquehanna River.

In Pennsylvania, eastern elliptio still existed in good habitat, but four downstream dams blocked migratory fish, so they hadn’t reproduced in a long time.

To help them, scientists relocated 120,000 American eels to two tributaries upstream of the dams. And it did the trick: Over a few years they saw an increase in the number of juveniles.

holding eel in hands — A team of biologists from the Fish and Wildlife Service captures American eels in Buffalo Creek and fits them with pit tags for monitoring. Photo: Steve Droter/Chesapeake Bay Program. Used with permission.

“In biological terms, it’s almost as close to flipping a light switch as you can have,” says Ashton.

As part of a settlement over the relicensing of the first dam on the river, which is in Maryland, the hydroelectric company Exelon is now required to move American eels by truck around the four dams, which researchers are hopeful will continue to aid freshwater mussel recovery upstream.

A Bigger Need

Ashton calls the fact that we’re beginning to understand river ecology more holistically, and beginning to manage fish and mussels together, “a big win.” But when it comes to protecting mussels, there’s still a long way to go.

There are ongoing water-pollution problems from farms, industry and water-treatment systems; in the West ongoing drought is being exacerbated by climate change, and competition for water resources among users is draining streams, further imperiling mussels.

“We also still don’t understand how certain chemicals and pharmaceuticals affect mussels,” says Ashton.

But many dam removals and river restoration projects can have big benefits for mussels — and the whole ecosystem. And Fleece, who has been involved in 19 dam removal projects so far, thinks removals are one of the restoration techniques that has the greatest benefit for the expenditure of resources.

“We can affect miles and miles and miles of habitat as part of these removals,” he says. “And sometimes for organisms that we don’t even think about, or that we’re not even aware of, it’s one of those circumstances where the ecological benefits and the societal benefits align to pull in the same direction.”

Previously in The Revelator:

America’s Freshwater Mussels Are Going Extinct — Here’s Why That Sucks

The Silent E: The Extinction of Experience and Empathy

The loss of biodiversity around the planet comes with very human costs, I tell the hosts of The Silent Why podcast.

What do we lose when we lose species? And how can we turn grief into action?

As I discuss on a recent episode of The Silent Why — a podcast exploring 101 different types of grief and loss — the extinction crisis affecting this planet sometimes feels overwhelming. It can fill us with dread while it robs the world of wonder, culture and connections. Extinction leaves the world a little less amazing, and we’re all a little poorer and sadder for it.

But sometimes that grief can also drive us, deepen our capacity for empathy, renew our commitment to do better, and encourage us to celebrate life while it still exists. That’s something we can all share when we experience loss, whether it’s the death of a parent or the solastalgia we feel from the decline of nature.

And that’s just part of the hour-long episode, which also touches upon what’s causing the extinction crisis, what species I’d save if I could, and what we can all do to help. It’s a wide-ranging conversation, and hosts Claire and Chris Sandys ask some insightful questions, many of which are made even more poignant by their own love of wildlife and experiences with loss.

Listen to The Silent Why below or through your favorite podcast app.

A transcript is also available.

Species Spotlight: The ʻŌlulu, a Rare Hawaiian Plant That Depends on Humans for Survival

The cliff-growing Brighamia insignis was pronounced extinct in the wild in 2020, but it persists thanks to the hard work of botanical gardens and other collections.

Known for growing on steep cliffs, Brighamia insignis has become an icon for plant conservation — not only in Hawai‘i but worldwide. Although it’s now extinct in the wild, more than 250 plants are maintained in collections at some 52 institutions globally, proof that people can sometimes save plants from extinction even when their habitats suffer.

Species name:

Brighamia insignis, ʻālula or ʻōlulu in Hawaiian. Also known as the Hawaiian or Vulcan palm (although not a member of the palm family) and even less creatively, “cabbage on a stick.”

Description:

These caudiciform (fat-trunked) succulents grow up to 16 feet (5 meters) tall. The plants are typically single-stemmed, although the stems may branch in rare cases. The fragrant flowers, which some compare to the fragrance of violets, range in length from 3 to 5.5 inches (7-14 cm) and are yellow to pale cream, or occasionally white.

Brighamia insignis at Chicago Botanic Garden’s greenhouse. Photo: Seana Walsh.

Where it’s found:

This plant is historically endemic to the Hawaiian islands of Kaua‘i and Ni‘ihau, where it grew on coastal cliff habitats between sea level and up to 1,300 feet (400 meters) in elevation.

IUCN Red List status:

The most recent IUCN Red List assessment of B. insignis, published in 2016, classified this rare plant as “critically endangered, possibly extinct in the wild,” based on its then very small population. At the time, only a single wild individual possibly remained, but it hadn’t been seen since 2014. That individual is now assumed lost. The IUCN Red List assessment will be updated in 2022 to classify the species as extinct in the wild.

Major threats:

The many factors that likely led to the extinction of B. insignis include hurricanes, landslides, and invasive plant and animal species (particularly goats that eat the plants and disturb their cliff habitats). In addition, the plants’ presumed pollinator, a type of hawkmoth, may also have gone extinct. To perpetuate the species in captivity, conservationists must now pollinate it by hand.

Notable conservation program(s) or legal protections:

Brighamia insignis has legal protection through its federal listing as endangered under the U.S. Endangered Species Act.

Although B. insignis probably no longer exists in the wild, it’s cultivated in at least 52 sites worldwide, thanks to National Tropical Botanical Garden botanists Steve Perlman and Ken Wood, who several decades ago risked their lives collecting seeds from wild plants growing on steep cliffs.

Brighamia insignis in the wild in 1982, along the Na Pali Coast of Kaua‘i. Photo: John Game (CC BY 2.0)

More recently, conservationists have been working to identify the most appropriate pollen donors in each institution, similar to how zoos maintain a studbook for endangered rhinos and other animals. They’re also making plans to determine how any seeds produced should be best distributed to increase the genetic diversity and improve the health of collections.

My favorite experience:

Researching various aspects of the species’ biology to help inform management has been a large part of my life for about a decade now. I studied the floral biology, breeding system, pollination ecology and ex situ genetic diversity of B. insignis for my master’s thesis in botany through the University of Hawai‘i at Mānoa in collaboration with the National Tropical Botanical Garden and Chicago Botanic Garden. I’ve continued to work with this species since I started working at NTBG as a conservation biologist in 2015.

One of the most amazing findings to date was that nectar and volatile organic compounds of the floral scent support a moth pollination syndrome in B. insignis, which has been suspected for decades based on the flowers’ color, shape and smell. These findings were particularly interesting since B. insignis is part of an adaptive radiation in the family Campanulaceae in Hawai‘i. From a single Lobelia species colonist, the group radiated into over 150 endemic species in six genera, five of which are endemic to the Hawaiian islands. The other genera, in contrast, are scentless and have nectar typical of bird-pollinated species. However, there had never been any reports of a moth visiting the flowers, and after a floral visitor study of outplantings near the known historic range of the species, no moths and only occasional non-native insect species were observed visiting B. insignis flowers.

Several years ago, though, a woman named Shellie Fielden on Maui got in touch with me and shared a video that her son, Kesh Fielden, had taken in November 2015 of a large hawkmoth visiting the flowers of his potted B. insignis plant! Although it was a non-native hawkmoth species (Agrius cingulata) it was so exciting to see and confirm that B. insignis is indeed attractive to and visited by hawkmoths.

What else do we need to understand or do to protect this species?

Before attempting to restore natural populations of B. insignis, we must manage all threats in the wild — getting rid of invasive species and stabilizing the ground from landslides. We must also make sure that any specialized pollinators in the habitats have abundant populations.

In the meantime, additional research should include confirming possible hawkmoth pollinators. One way we’re investigating this is by collecting pollen grains from entomological collections of hawkmoth specimens from Kaua‘i and identifying it to see if B. insignis pollen is found on any of the species.

Other work could include examining (in a controlled, experimental setting) whether any of the native and/or non-native hawkmoths present on Kaua‘i would likely visit B. insignis and serve as effective pollinators. Moths could be released into an enclosure with blooming plants to observe whether they will visit and function as effective pollinators.

Key research:

Wood, J., Ballou, J.D., Callicrate, T., Fant, J.B., Griffith, M.P., Kramer, A.T., Lacy, R.C., Meyer, A., Sullivan, S., Traylor-Holzer, K., Walsh, S.K. and Havens, K. 2020. Applying the zoo model to conservation of threatened exceptional plant species. Conservation Biology, doi:10.1111/cobi.13503.
Walsh, S.K., Pender, R.J., Junker, R.R., Daehler, C.C., Morden, C.W. and Lorence, D.H. 2019. Pollination biology reveals challenges to restoring populations of Brighamia insignis (Campanulaceae), a critically endangered plant species from Hawai‘i. Flora, 259: 151448.
Fant, J.B., Havens, K., Kramer, A.T., Walsh, S.K., Callicrate, T., Lacy, R.C., Maunder, M., Meyer, A.H. and Smith, P.P. 2016. What to do when we can’t bank on seeds: What botanic gardens can learn from the zoo community about conserving plants in living collections. American Journal of Botany, 103 (9): 1541-1543.

It’s Time to Stop Rolling the Dice on Chemical Disasters

The Environmental Protection Agency can help protect millions of people who live near industrial facilities — but only if it works now to strengthen an important federal chemical policy.

Have you ever watched somebody shake a can of soda, and then get ready to crack open the top? You know it’s going to explode, but you don’t know when, or how bad it will be. That’s what it’s like living near a chemical plant. Except the consequences can be deadly.

As a lifelong resident of Kanawha County, West Virginia — an area that has been home to dozens of industrial facilities making everything from pesticides to plastics — I know this uncertain feeling all too well. For the past several decades, I’ve listened to emergency sirens go off in my community, indicating that we need to shelter in place, while virtually no information is shared about what happened or how dangerous it might be.

All across the country, disproportionately in low-income communities and communities of color, residents are bombarded with exposure to toxic chemicals from similar facilities, despite the known risks to workers and residents. Not only from explosions, but from chronic and cumulative impacts.

Fortunately, the Environmental Protection Agency has an opportunity to make things right. The agency is in the process of updating one of the most important federal chemical policies that most people have never heard of: the Risk Management Plan Rule, which monitors more than 12,000 facilities across the country that produce, use or store certain hazardous chemicals. These chemicals have known links to cancer, autoimmune disorders and fertility problems — all of which have surfaced in my community and beyond.

The rule was first enacted after public outrage over the deadly release of methyl isocyanate at a Union Carbide plant in Bhopal, India, 37 years ago. A half a million people died or were injured, and today survivors and their children still suffer from chronic health effects and ongoing contamination. Union Carbide’s Bhopal “sister plant” was located in my neighborhood and continued for more than 25 years to manufacture and stockpile methyl isocyanate in amounts akin to what was released in India, since no federal or state policy required a transition away from highly toxic chemicals or unsafe processes. It is only by good fortune that my community didn’t suffer the same catastrophic consequences following two separate explosions, years apart, at a unit near an aboveground storage tank that held the chemical.

My community is not alone. There are approximately 177 million Americans living near high-risk facilities across the country right now. A chemical facility in California caused a huge fire and smoke plume in 2012, forcing 15,000 people to seek medical treatment. The following year, a fertilizer facility in West Texas exploded, killing 15 people, injuring 200, and flattening hundreds of homes. In 2020, a chemical plant exploded near my community in West Virginia, killing one person and causing a terrifying shelter-in-place order for all residents within 2 miles. In the past decade, there have been more than 1,500 reported chemical releases or explosions at Risk Management Plan–monitored facilities nationwide, and these are just the disasters that we can see. We have no idea how many have died or become sick from the witches’ brew of chemicals in our air and water.

UPDATE: 12/9/2020 4:30PM- An explosion and fire at a West Virginia chemical plant that shook surrounding homes killed a plant worker and injured three other people.
It happened after 10 p.m. Tuesday at Optima Chemicals Co., a tenant on the Chemours proper https://t.co/yzWN8j7CwT pic.twitter.com/x98wWBTpm4

— WOAY NewsWatch (@WOAYNewsWatch) December 9, 2020

Now EPA Administrator Michael Regan has the chance to turn the tide as his agency works to update the rule. Several common-sense protections are needed that our community has been seeking for decades:

First, a new rule must include requirements for these high-risk facilities to transition to safer chemicals and processes whenever possible.

Second, hazardous facilities at risk from climate-related extreme weather should be required to plan and prepare for these potentially disastrous events, which they currently are not. In the first week after Hurricane Ida, for example, at least nine facilities in Louisiana reported chemical releases triggered by the storm.

Third, right now analyses of “worst-case scenario” releases are only required to include one chemical per facility, even though many facilities use or store multiple hazardous substances. The Risk Management Plan must take into account a broader range of toxic chemicals, as well asnd the cumulative hazards at each facility and all nearby facilities.

Fourth, we need independent safety audits, “root cause” analysis after incidents, broad distribution of findings, and requirements to implement identified safety and prevention measures.

Finally, the updated rule must require that workers be full and active participants in prevention and hazard-reduction planning, and that surrounding community members be fully informed of potential harms and possible solutions. We also need requirements for reliable backup power, incident alerts in multiple languages, real-time fenceline air monitoring, and other proven steps to keep our families safe.

Now is the moment for the EPA to update the Risk Management Plan in a meaningful way that takes into account the health, safety and equity of fenceline communities first and foremost.

The opinions expressed above are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect those of The Revelator, the Center for Biological Diversity or its employees.

A Bigger Tent Delivers Stronger Wins for Climate: The Lesson From Illinois

The state’s recently passed Climate and Equitable Jobs Act offers a model for other states to build coalitions to help communities and the planet.

While all eyes have been on Washington, D.C.’s budget and infrastructure negotiations, one state passed the country’s only comprehensive climate legislation designed to advance racial equity and economic justice — and it wasn’t California or New York.

By passing the Climate and Equitable Jobs Act on Sept. 15, Illinois — yes, the country’s number-four coal producer — joined just six other states, Washington, D.C. and Puerto Rico in requiring 100% clean electricity, in this case by 2045. But unlike others, Illinois’ policy structure aims to remedy systemic racism, environmental injustice and economic inequality.

For too long, climate advocates have played an insider’s game, developing solutions with little input from the people most affected. As I have seen in my 15 years as a social justice advocate, we will continue to miss opportunities to pass ambitious policies if we fail to unite all who stand to benefit.

Not involving these communities also leaves policies vulnerable to attacks that threaten their durability — a lesson most recently demonstrated by the stalled progress of the Transportation Climate Initiative, where a lack of community participation in the initial design made the policy more susceptible to fossil industry assault.

Avoiding runaway climate change requires highly organized coalitions to implement policies that drive rapid, continuous emissions reductions during this critical decade. Adopting a strategy of listening sessions to develop the Jobs Act text, unlike most energy legislation, ensured it was written by communities for communities and passed with overwhelming support.

In the heart of the Midwest, the Illinois climate movement proved a big tent can deliver big results, and that leading with jobs and justice is a winning approach.

So what are the big results that set the Climate and Equitable Jobs Act apart? I spoke with several people involved to find out why it stands out and what other states can learn from the process.

Leveraging Investment Dollars to Advance Equity and Justice

Notably, the Act will phase out fossil fuels in the electricity sector by 2045, but it also tackles transportation and building emissions by investing in electric vehicles, new building codes and efficiency. Advocates estimate the law will stimulate $30 billion in total private investment to cut emissions. Measures to advance equity and justice along with protections for workers, low-income households and pollution-burdened communities form the backbone of the law.

Labor groups project the Act’s massive renewables buildout will create 50,000 construction jobs over the next 10 years in Illinois. It authorizes the Illinois Power Authority to spend $580 million per year on wind and solar development (doubling current funding), with 29% of funds allocated to community-based and brownfield solar projects. The spending is projected to enable state utilities to reach 40% renewable electricity by 2030, on the way to 100% clean power by 2045.

Some other states have stated similar goals. But Illinois’ law is the first and only comprehensive climate policy that aims to leverage real dollars to achieve economic and racial equity as core policy goals. In an email, Pastor Scott Onque’, policy director for Faith in Place, and pastor in Chicago’s South Side, called the bill “a forward-thinking, equity-rooted model for states across the U.S. to follow.” As the Illinois Environmental Council explained, no other state even requires diversity reporting for renewables projects, let alone mandates diversity goals for the entire industry.

The Act will transform Illinois’ clean energy workforce: To qualify for a state contract, developers must meet minimum equity and diversity standards by demonstrating that 10% of their work hours (rising to 30% by 2030) are done by “equity eligible persons” or by subcontracting with “equity eligible contractors” (a business owned by equity eligible persons).

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So, who is an “equity eligible” person? As defined by the Act, equity eligible persons are those who have been historically marginalized and excluded from educational and career advancement opportunities because of systemic discrimination and racism. The statute includes residents of environmental justice communities, foster care alumni, previously incarcerated persons, or people living in “R3 (restore, reinvest, renew) communities” that have been harmed by violence, excessive incarceration and economic disinvestment.

The law also recognizes the need for training to ensure those eligible are job ready. It allocates $80 million for 13 workforce and contractor incubation hubs, run by local organizations in the communities that need them most, providing clean energy job training, mentorship and administrative services to cultivate small clean energy businesses. And a new “green bank” will offer lending services to jumpstart new clean energy projects in marginalized communities. Illinois communities can expect a rising cohort of clean energy entrepreneurs of color as a result.

The Act aims to overcome additional obstacles, such as a lack of access to transportation and childcare, through funding services such as travel stipends, work clothes, tools, or childcare for training and incubator program participants.

It also builds accountability by requiring the Illinois Power Agency to conduct a disparity study to determine who is benefiting, then re-evaluate programing if the law’s intentions aren’t being met. In a phone conversation, Vote Solar’s John Delurey called these initiatives truly “groundbreaking,” explaining the law, “offers a whole new set of tools to deliver equitable outcomes.”

Nation-Leading Worker Protections

The Act also serves as a landmark for workers’ rights, with the strongest labor standards of any state climate or clean energy policy in the country. In a phone conversation, Pat Devaney of the Illinois AFL-CIO said the law is “the best proof yet that a state can implement aggressive climate policies, but do it with the worker at the forefront, and making sure that the jobs we are creating are good jobs with a prevailing wage that bring people into the middle class.”

Under the Act, all utility-scale wind and solar development and all transmission projects in Illinois are required to have project labor agreement — a long-time strategy of trade unions to protect their workers and ensure fair wages. Additionally, all non-residential wind and solar projects must pay workers the prevailing wage, guaranteeing good-paying jobs even for non-unionized workers.

Just Transition and Environmental Justice

While fossil fuel power plants have burdened communities with a legacy of toxic pollution causing a range of health damages, they have also been a source of good-paying jobs and public revenue. To correct longstanding injustices, policy should prioritize fossil fuel retirements in overburdened communities, while providing adequate community transition funding.

The Jobs Act was designed to address these twin challenges. It mandates retirement of all fossil resources, shutting down the most polluting plants first. This marks an important shift in Illinois climate policy, as the Little Village Environmental Justice Organization has pointed out, by prioritizing emissions reductions from plants with the worst EJ impacts rather than solely focusing on greenhouse gas emissions.

This bill also reinvests directly in these same communities to replace fossil jobs and local tax with new clean energy investment. It commits $47 million annually to convert coal power plants to solar farms or energy storage facilities, and $40 million per year to replace lost property taxes, while supporting economic development and job training in communities where mines or power plants will close. The bill also includes a first-in-the-nation “Displaced Energy Workers Bill of Rights” to protect and support employees of plants set to close.

Since the law is more than 900 pages, it’s impossible to capture all of its equity provisions. But it’s truly comprehensive in its approach, aiming to transform entire systems — transportation, housing, energy — to advance justice. According to Pastor Scott, its equity and just transition provisions, “will ensure all Illinois communities benefit from the expansion of renewable energy.”

Building a Winning Coalition

So how did this “Green New Deal” for Illinois happen? It was more than three years in the making, led by the Illinois Clean Jobs Coalition, a broad and diverse group including the state’s major environmental groups along with many environmental justice, community-based, labor, faith and public health organizations. They set out to create a sweeping policy that would not only cut dangerous pollution but prioritize jobs and justice and brought these core policy goals to communities across Illinois.

But when it came to the details of how they would advance this vision, they committed to a strategy of listening first. In a phone conversation, Colleen Smith, deputy director of the Illinois Environmental Council, explained the coalition’s stance this way: “We don’t live in a static world, so climate solutions shouldn’t be static either.”

They developed their approaches from a previous failure.

Not long after the 2016 passage of Illinois’ Future Energy Jobs Act, which expanded the state’s renewables investments and created a new workforce development program, it became clear the bill wasn’t delivering for pollution-burdened communities. It had been written largely by the state’s utilities, with little input from environmental justice, labor or fossil-dependent communities.

In response, the Illinois Clean Jobs Coalition launched a new “Listen, Lead, Share” campaign in 2018, holding more than 100 listening sessions across the state to garner input for an ambitious, inclusive bill. Coalition members learned “pain points” and gathered ideas for solutions from the most-impacted communities, which were brought back to a working group that drafted the Climate and Equitable Jobs Act.

Smith told me they heard often that the community didn’t need more low-wage jobs and that any policy developed should focus on creating jobs that would build wealth in the communities that have long been denied that opportunity. Both Smith and Delurey confirmed that many of the Act’s most innovative climate justice solutions, including the contractor incubator and the green bank, came directly from listening sessions.

The coalition then engaged in another round of listening sessions to get feedback on the draft bill. At every point along the way, they sought input, even pausing to re-evaluate the bill after George Floyd’s murder to reconsider whether it went far enough in rectifying racial injustice. The result was, in Smith’s words, “a bill written by communities, for communities.”

In addition, the listening sessions built a strong base of highly networked grassroots advocates that played a key role in securing the Act’s passage. The outreach and feedback, as well as community representative’s direct involvement in negotiations, strengthened lawmaker confidence that the bill was indeed what their constituents wanted throughout the legislative process.

For Transformative Climate Policy, We Must Build a Bigger Tent

The climate policies we’re designing now will transform our energy system with wide-ranging impacts for those fossil fuel dependent workers and communities, who must have a say in shaping policies that will determine their future. To create winning coalitions and enact bold policies that will stand the test of time, we need everyone at the table.

While many critical factors helped The Climate and Equitable Jobs Act over the finish line in Illinois, including strong champions in the governor’s office and statehouse, the CJC’s work is testament to the power of an inclusive organizing strategy and policymaking process centering equity and justice.

Every state faces different challenges. Many could benefit from elements of Illinois’ new law, such as jobs training or shutting down plants based on their environmental justice impacts. But those needs may not emerge without broader discussions. That’s why the model of listening that Illinois pioneered should be at the heart of efforts in other states. They don’t need to take three years — time is of the essence — but they should be long enough to engender trust and collaboration.

As climate champions across the country race against time to pass ambitious legislation, the lesson from Illinois is clear: Building a bigger tent can make truly transformative climate policy possible.

The opinions expressed above are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect those of The Revelator, the Center for Biological Diversity or its employees.