Latest news with #CancerAlley
New York Times
23-05-2025
- Health
- New York Times
In ‘Cancer Alley,' a Battle Over Who Gets to Measure Air Pollution
Since 2022, residents of St. James Parish, along the heavily industrialized banks of the Mississippi River known as 'Cancer Alley,' have used low-cost monitors to measure air pollution. But a new law in Louisiana makes it illegal to use that data to push for stricter pollution controls or enforcement. The law requires people to instead buy expensive air-pollution monitors that meet strict Environmental Protection Agency standards, if they're going to use the data to allege violations of clean air laws. People who don't comply face penalties of thousands of dollars a day. Now, community groups are fighting the law, saying in a federal lawsuit filed Thursday against Louisiana that it violates their constitutional right to free speech. The law enables polluting industries 'to silence the science,' said Caitlion Hunter, director of research and policy at RISE St. James, which leads the air-monitoring efforts. The Louisiana law was the first of its kind in the country when it went into effect last year. But Kentucky passed a similar law this year and West Virginia's legislature debated a version in February, though it did not pass. The Louisiana Department of Environmental Quality declined to comment. Louisiana Attorney General Liz Murrill did not respond to requests for comment. Community air monitoring proliferated across the country under the 2022 Inflation Reduction Act, which made $81 million in grants available for monitoring projects. That came as part of efforts by Congress to help protect communities of color and lower-income neighborhoods, like St. James Parish, which bear a disproportionate burden of industrial air pollution. Low-cost monitors have been key to that effort, and have been endorsed, and in some cases even loaned or funded, by publicy funded programs. St. James Parish used a brand of sensor called PurpleAir, which cost less than $300, to monitor for particulate matter, which are emitted from power plants, construction sites and industrial facilities and can trigger heart attacks and respiratory problems like asthma. The sensors were placed at the homes of people living near chemical facilities, Ms. Hunter said. The region also has some of the highest rates of cancer in the country. Under the new Louisiana law, the group is no longer allowed to publicly discuss data or file complaints using information from PurpleAir sensors. The group says it would instead have to use government-approved particulate monitors that cost almost $60,000 each, beyond their financial reach. RISE has been tracking spikes in fine particulate matter pollution. This kind of pollution also known as PM 2.5, is made up of solid particles less than 2.5 micrometers in size, which are small enough to enter the bloodstream when inhaled. PM 2.5 is the deadliest form of air pollution, leading to millions of premature deaths each year. The group had intended to use the data to oppose a plastics plant proposed by Formosa Plastics Group, a Taiwanese plastics manufacturer, Ms. Hunter said. The data showed elevated levels of PM 2.5 in St. James Parish, where several petrochemicals plants already operate. But using the PurpleAir data this way would likely be prohibited under the new law. Industry groups that backed the law, known as the Community Air Monitoring Reliability Act, say it ensures data integrity. The Louisiana Chemical Association said the standards didn't stop anyone from tracking pollution levels, as long as the data didn't trigger enforcement or penalties, or form the basis of a lawsuit. 'Air monitoring is a precise science, and decisions based on that data carry serious consequences,' said David Cresson, president and chief executive of the association, which represents Louisiana's petrochemical industries. 'The goal of this law is not to silence community voices, but to ensure that regulatory action is based on high-quality, validated science.' PurpleAir didn't respond to questions about the law and the accuracy of its product. The law has sent 'a chilling effect' through community groups, said Joy Banner, co-founder of The Descendants Project, an environmental group that supports people descended from slaves in Louisiana. The group recently paused plans to publicize more data from its air monitors, she said. 'We simply cannot afford $30,000-plus fines,' she said. 'The law has been unfortunately very effective. It's scaring us away from being able to share the data with our community members who need it the most.' Peter DeCarlo, an air pollution scientist at Johns Hopkins University, said low-cost sensors like PurpleAir played a critical role in helping communities track air pollutants like PM 2.5, as well as other chemical emissions that aren't tracked by regulators. Even his own pollution data from cutting-edge mobile labs and sensors might be prohibited from public disclosure under the new law, he said. Community monitors can be particularly important during accidents at nearby industrial plants and other sources, he said. 'While they are not as accurate as regulatory monitors, they are able to provide real-time information to communities in the places they live and breathe,' he said.
The Guardian
13-05-2025
- Business
- The Guardian
Louisiana: controversial Denka plant suspends production after dire losses
A controversial chemical plant in the centre of Louisiana's 'Cancer Alley' region has indefinitely suspended all production following dire financial results, the facility's operators announced on Tuesday. The Denka Performance Elastomer plant in St John Parish has long been associated with chronic air pollution issues and was the subject of a years-long Guardian reporting series examining the disproportionate cancer risk rates experienced by the majority-Black fence-line communities that surround the facility. Denka, a Japanese chemicals firm, cited growing regulation during the Biden presidency and a 'sustained slowdown in the global market demand' for its product, a synthetic rubber called neoprene, which is manufactured at the site. The company had not decided on permanent closure, a statement said, adding the chemicals giant was 'exploring all available options for the future of the site, including sale of the facility'. The fence-line community's fight for clean air has become a national and international environmental justice clarion call, prompting a number of interventions from the Biden administration. These included the introduction of a new rule governing emissions on the plant's primary pollutant, a likely human carcinogen named chloroprene, and a US justice department lawsuit seeking to compel Denka to lower its pollution. The Trump administration sought to undo many of these initiatives. Trump's justice department dropped the litigation in March citing 'ideological overreach' and a new executive order targeting so-called 'DEI programs'. Denka said the administration had also 'committed to rewrite' the Biden-era chloroprene rule. Still, the company said in a statement that it had endured 'extraordinary loss in its financial results' for the last year amounting to a 16.1 billion yen (roughly $109m) in losses. Although citing a decline in global demand, the company also blamed the uncertainty caused by increased regulation under Joe Biden for its facility's financial collapse in America. The Guardian has revealed how the plant's former owners, US chemicals giant DuPont, sought to sell the facility in 2015 in a secretive deal after citing concerns about potential environmental regulation and its impact on profit margins. DuPont allegedly withheld information about these concerns before selling to Denka. DuPont did not immediately respond to a request for comment on Tuesday. Denka made reference to the 2015 sale again on Tuesday, suggesting it had 'not anticipated' the need to install pollution control technology and equipment at the point of purchase. Since purchasing the facility, the Japanese firm has invested over $35m in emissions offset technology and has claimed to have reduced chloroprene emissions by more than 80%. Notably, chloroprene readings recorded by the EPA have continued to show measurements well in excess of the federal government's lifetime exposure guidance. Residents who have fought for years against the plant's pollution expressed some cautious optimism on Tuesday. 'It [the suspension of production] is not about us, the community. They don't care about us,' said Mary Hampton of Boundless Community Action. 'What I see now is that they never intended to get emissions down. But now they've been hit internationally they don't have a choice.' Hampton, who has lived in the fence-line community of Reserve for her entire life and lost a number of family members to cancer, added that the community remained concerned about a potential sale to another manufacturer. 'I worry it's just a temporary thing,' Hampton said. 'I worry they're going to sell to somebody else, who will come in with the same regulations and keep doing exactly what they want.'
Yahoo
21-03-2025
- Politics
- Yahoo
Fueling Knowledge: Oil and gas money shapes research, creates ‘echo chamber' in higher education
Louisiana State University President William Tate IV visits Shell's facility in Convent, La., in 2023 to talk about his plan to focus on five areas at the university, including energy. Shell has announced it will convert the former oil refinery into one that produces lower carbon fuels. (Louisiana State University) This is Part 2 of a two-part investigative project exploring the relationship between the fossil fuel industry and Louisiana State University. Read Part 1 here. This story was reported by a partnership with WWNO/WRKF, the Louisiana Illuminator and Floodlight. You can listen to the accompanying Sea Change podcast here. Jackson Voss loves his alma mater, Louisiana State University. He appreciates that his undergraduate education was paid for by a program dreamed up by an oil magnate and that he received additional scholarships from ExxonMobil and Shell. But the socially conscious Louisiana native was also aware of what the support of those companies seemed to buy — silence. Voss, who graduated from LSU in Baton Rouge 11 years ago with a degree in political science, says when he attended school there, he didn't hear discussions of how climate change made Hurricane Katrina worse; why petrochemical plants along the Mississippi River sickened residents of the mostly Black communities around those facilities; or about the devastating and permanent impact of the BP oil spill that happened during Voss' time at LSU. Voss, now director of climate policy for the New Orleans-based consumer advocacy group, the Alliance for Affordable Energy, says he didn't hear climate change or 'Cancer Alley' openly discussed until he went to the University of Michigan, 1,100 miles away, for graduate school. 'It was not a place that was really discussing these issues in the way that should have been discussed at the time,' he said of LSU, where oil wells dotted the campus at least into the 1970s. Any such discussions weren't taken seriously, he said, and even fellow students were often defensive of the industry. 'The discussions that did happen had to focus on, kind of finding a way to talk about climate without talking about climate,' Voss said, 'and it was especially important not to talk about the role that oil and gas played in worsening climate change.' Whether through funding of research projects, the creation of new academic programs focused on energy or, more subtly, through support of everything from opera to football, the oil and gas industry has been shaping discourse at LSU — and universities around the world — for decades. LSU administrators insist they have safeguards against undue influence by fossil fuel companies, which have given tens of millions of dollars to the university in just the past three years. But a joint investigation by Floodlight, WWNO/WRKF and the Louisiana Illuminator found the funding allows the industry to place a thumb on the scale of what gets studied at the state's flagship university — and what is left out. Research by Floodlight shows between 2010 and 2020, petrochemical companies gave LSU at least $44 million through their charitable foundations, making it one of the top recipients of fossil fuel funding among U.S. universities, based on research from the nonprofit Data for Progress. LSU received more from petrochemical companies than the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, Harvard and Texas A&M — and 20 times more than Voss's other alma mater, the University of Michigan. The Data for Progress research showed over that decade, the 27 schools they examined received almost $700 million total. Increasingly, researchers are questioning the longstanding ties between fossil fuels and universities at a time when scientists and governments across the globe overwhelmingly agree that sharply reducing the use of fossil fuels and increasing reliance on renewable energy are crucial to stalling or reversing climate change. Last year, a joint report from Congress found 'the oil and gas industry cultivates partnerships with academic institutions as a way to influence climate research.' And a first-of-its-kind study released by researchers last year found the fossil fuel industry's approach is similar to how the tobacco, pharmaceutical and other industries co-opted academics. 'It's a situation exactly parallel to public health research being funded by the tobacco industry. It's a conflict of interest — the size of an oil tanker,' said Geoffrey Supran, associate professor of environmental science and policy who studies fossil fuel disinformation at the University of Miami and is director of its Climate Accountability Lab. He says LSU and other schools like it have become 'an echo chamber for pro-fossil-fuel narratives.' LSU and its president, William Tate IV, have doubled down on the university's ties with the fossil fuel industry in recent years, despite its shrinking importance to the Louisiana economy. Since 2020, Tate has solicited and received more than $30 million from fossil fuel companies, including a record $27.5 million from Shell. During LSU's Giving Day campaign on Wednesday, Shell plopped down another $1.5 million for LSU libraries and the College of Science. 'It's time for a partnership in significant fashion to link the work at LSU in our energy areas, including alternative energy, and creating ways to keep that industry vibrant here in this state and for our country,' Tate told reporters in 2022, about a year after he was named to head the school. LSU insists there are firewalls in place to prevent oil and gas companies from unduly influencing research and study. But public records and interviews indicate that fossil fuel funding can have a subtle and even direct impact on research and critical discourse. 'Universities are at risk of being pawns in a climate propaganda scheme devised and implemented by fossil fuel interests for decades,' Supran said. It's impossible to pin down how much money fossil fuel interests — or any industry — gives to universities such as LSU. Although it is a public institution, much of the money for scholarships, workforce development and buildings goes through LSU's foundation — a nonprofit separate from the university. The foundation, in accordance with philanthropic standards, does not disclose its donors unless they agree to be identified. In its research, Data for Progress used public announcements from universities and companies, along with tax filings from fossil fuel companies' foundations, to determine how much the universities received from those companies. 'It's most likely the tip of the iceberg,' said Jake Lowe, executive director of Campus Climate Network, which under its previous name, Fossil Free Research, worked with Data for Progress to create its 2023 report. For example, the report includes millions of dollars the ExxonMobil Foundation gives for scholarships — but not the money going directly from the company to a school or its foundation. 'If the ExxonMobil corporation has a research contract with LSU, you're not going to see that in the tax documents or annual reports,' Lowe said. Floodlight, with the help of a Data for Progress researcher, used the same method to look at how much petrochemical money went to LSU. The analysis included examining public announcements from the companies and tax filings, called 990s, of the foundations for Shell, ExxonMobil, Chevron, ConocoPhillips, Entergy, Koch Inc., Southwest Electric Power Corp., Schlumberger (now known as SLB), Dow and Taylor Oil. From 2010 to 2020, Taylor Oil's foundation gave the most to LSU, almost $21 million. The second highest amount was from ExxonMobil, which gave more than $10 million — the majority of which came from a matching gift program in which the company gave $3 for every dollar donated by an employee or retiree to a college or university. But then, in 2022, Shell dwarfed the amount given over the previous decade with a single $27.5 million donation to LSU. The majority, $25 million, was for a new Institute for Energy Innovation to focus on 'scholarship and solution delivery' on 'hydrogen and carbon capture … the coast; and low-carbon fuels.' LSU doesn't hide that the institute's mission was shaped in partnership with the industry. In the early days, a former Shell executive, Rhoman Hardy, served as the research center's interim director. The company also has three of the institute's seven board seats; industry groups hold another two. Last year, the nonprofit New Orleans news outlet The Lens discovered LSU created a system: If a fossil fuel company gives $50,000 or more to the institute, it gets the right to participate in a specific research project, to use the intellectual property from that project and 'robust review and discussion of the specific study and project output.' For a $1.25 million donation, a company also receives 'voting rights for selected institute activities, including research.' A contribution of $5 million or more earns a donor a seat on the institute's board. It's a conflict of interest — the size of an oil tanker – Geoffrey Supran When reached for comment about the institute, its donations and its potential influence, Shell responded, 'We're proud to partner with LSU to contribute to the growing compendium of peer-reviewed climate science and advance the effort to identify multiple pathways and build the ecosystems that can lead to more energy with fewer emissions.' In 2023, ExxonMobil gave $2 million to LSU and became a 'strategic' partner. With the donation, ExxonMobil will work with the institute to study batteries, solar power, carbon capture and advanced recycling. ExxonMobil did not respond to a request for comment about the donation or about the money it has previously given to LSU. At a Louisiana Board of Regents' Energy Transition Research Symposium at LSU later that year, ExxonMobil gave a presentation on advanced plastics recycling, a controversial technology that opponents say amounts to greenwashing the problem of plastic waste by burning it rather than reusing it. 'It is clear based on the board and research focus areas of the new Institute for Energy Innovation that it is focused squarely on innovations using fossil fuels,' said Logan Atkinson Burke, Voss' boss at the Alliance for Affordable Energy, an energy consumer advocacy group. Environmentalists say technologies being studied by the institute, including carbon capture, hydrogen and low-carbon fuels, are 'false solutions' that will do little to address the climate crisis. SUBSCRIBE: GET THE MORNING HEADLINES DELIVERED TO YOUR INBOX The institute's current director, Brad Ives, and LSU's vice president for research and economic development, Robert Twilley, say they have put safeguards in place to prevent industry influence. And Twilley says this type of research — working hand in hand with industries on the ground — is core to the mission of LSU as a land grant university, a program Abraham Lincoln established in 1862 that used federal land sales to fund universities focused on practical subjects including architecture, engineering and agriculture. 'It's how we as an institution manage it and the safeguards and being very conscious of our ethics, being very conscious of what projects we work on,' Twilley said. He points to federal guidelines, the scientific method and peer review as some of the safeguards that keep the university's research independent from industry influence. The institute sends its research proposals to an anonymous third-party panel of scientists to be ranked, Twilley says. Those rankings help decide what research it funds. Ives says funders aren't allowed contact with researchers either. 'What we're doing is making sure that the researchers have total academic freedom to let the research take them where it goes,' Ives said. 'We know we can sleep at night because we are not doing anything that's wrong.' But Supran, who once worked on projects funded by oil and gas, says it's not always as simple as a researcher purposefully skewing results. Scientists are only human, making these relationships inherently fraught. 'We're all subject to biases,' he said. 'Things like reciprocation. You know that if I give you a pen, you have some small subconscious desire to reciprocate it in some sense down the line.' For example, one study showed how reviews of the health effects of secondhand smoke funded by the tobacco industry were almost 90 times more likely to conclude that it was not harmful compared to reviews funded by other sources. There's evidence that the lines between funding and academic independence are sometimes blurred at LSU. Several influential reports and studies from LSU's Center for Energy Studies have drawn scrutiny over the years for being misleading. In one case, a utility-funded report led to the dismantling of Louisiana's successful rooftop solar program. In another, a report helped curb efforts to sue oil and gas companies for decades of environmental damage, claiming the lawsuits cost the state more than it would gain. A more recent example was found in public records reviewed by WWNO, including a contract between the Center for Energy Studies and the Bracewell law firm, representing Gulf Coast Sequestration. That company wants to store millions of tons of carbon dioxide underground in southwest Louisiana. It asked the center to use the project as a case study for the economic impact of a carbon capture industry on the Gulf Coast. The contract suggests that some of the report's conclusions were reached even before the study began. The researchers said they planned to 'underscore the transformative nature of CCS (carbon capture and sequestration) on the Louisiana economy.' LSU's final report ultimately listed all of the financial reasons the Gulf Coast should welcome the projects like this one — while barely mentioning the economic risks, such as the cost and financial viability of carbon capture facilities. WWNO showed the report to several researchers familiar with sponsored research. All of them shared concerns over the prescriptive nature of the research proposal or the terms of the contract itself. LSU allows research sponsors to give feedback on drafts before they're published. Sponsors are also allowed to stay anonymous — meaning, the public doesn't know who funds the research. 'It gets a D grade and it's not quite an F,' Supran said, noting that in this case, the funder was disclosed. ' The fact that this report just touts the economic benefits of this specific company funding the report — it kind of makes you wonder if it's worth the paper it's written on.' The report's authors declined to comment. Twilley defended the contract, saying its terms are standard throughout the university and that researchers are allowed to propose hypotheses. The contract is not illegal nor does it constitute research misconduct such as using fake data or plagiarizing. But according to one elected official, reports like these, which carry the credibility of a university without the scrutiny of peer review, could influence public policy. 'The research plays a significant role in determining whether or not we're on the right or wrong course,' said Davante Lewis, a public service commissioner in Louisiana. His commission regulates services in Louisiana including the electric utilities. Lewis said he counts on such academic reports to provide a fair and comprehensive picture of an issue. But, as more industry money enters research, he said he was concerned, noting, 'Oftentimes we have seen where money drives facts, not facts drive money.' Besides funding LSU's energy institute, oil and gas interests also paid for things everyone likes, such as health programs, tutoring and even halftime kicking contests with football fans. Supran says he and other researchers have a working theory that while oil and gas companies pour big money into big research institutions such as MIT and Stanford to give them credibility, they spend money at regional universities in states including Louisiana and Texas to build a compliant population. 'It doesn't take a genius to imagine that that money may be used to burnish the reputation locally of those companies and foster a vibrant recruitment pool,' Supran said. Voss says the oil and gas industry's support of benefits for the state are 'one of the few things that it actually has right.' On the flip side, he added, 'I think it protects the industry from criticism, because it makes people feel like they're a part of the community.' But the heavy presence of oil and gas on campus can have a chilling effect on people and groups who don't support those industries. Jill Tupitza, now a marine scientist in California, was a graduate student at LSU when she and fellow graduate student Corinne Salter started Climate Pelicans, an advocacy organization that worked to get LSU to stop investing in fossil fuels. When they started questioning the ties between LSU and fossil fuels, they were met with resistance. 'Immediately, doors were shut,' Tupitza said. One administrator told her, ''I can't tell you what to do, I can't punish you for going further. But I would strongly recommend that you stop asking questions about this,'' she recalled. 'So that, obviously, that made us double down.' The group led marches and a petition drive urging climate divestment. They started a podcast that explored topics including environmental justice and false climate solutions. Tupitza said the LSU Foundation stonewalled the group's requests for information about how much money it had invested in fossil fuels and refused requests to attend meetings about the foundation's $700 million endowment. And then, while Tupitza and fellow graduate students were writing 'Divest from Fossil Fuels,' in pink chalk in front of the foundation building, they were arrested on graffiti charges. Those charges were eventually dropped. School rules prohibit writing on the sidewalks with chalk, but it is not an arrestable offense. Tupitza described her arrest as 'a huge scare tactic.' The foundation later told Tupitza that less than 4% of its holdings were invested in fossil fuels. Supran says LSU isn't unique in its hesitation to cut ties with the oil and gas industry. 'I think it's fair to say that for the most part, there has not been careful deliberation about the costs and the benefits of these ties, but rather a head down, and aggressive, solicitation of as much funding as they can receive from anyone.' Voss predicts that if conditions worsen in an industry known for its booms and busts, its support for LSU will disappear. And as climate change worsens, it will make it harder for businesses and people to stay in Louisiana, which is already near the top of U.S. states when it comes to population loss. 'In many ways, higher education is sitting upon a house of cards, and relying upon oil and gas is incredibly risky — as it always has been.' Instead, he said, 'I think that LSU could and should be a really critical voice in climate change and environmental justice in Louisiana. I do worry that in failing to do so and by being so heavily tied up in oil and gas interests, it actually puts the university in a worse position.' SUPPORT: YOU MAKE OUR WORK POSSIBLE
Axios
13-03-2025
- Politics
- Axios
Federal money cut for New Orleans' tree canopy efforts
A New Orleans nonprofit committed to planting trees around the city says it's running out of money after losing millions in federal support. Why it matters: The reforestation effort is part of the city's multiyear strategy to improve storm-water management and help residents cope with extreme heat. The big picture: Susannah Burley, the executive director of Sustaining Our Urban Landscape, says she isn't sure about the group's future after $3.5 million in federal funds directed to them was frozen or canceled. The group originally had $1 million allocated through the Arbor Day Foundation. But, the US Forest Service killed the program last month, saying it didn't align with the Trump administration's priorities, according to the AP. It would have funded $75 million in tree-plantings nationally. Another $2.5 million from the Biden administration is in limbo too, Burley tells Axios. Threat level: Burley told staff Wednesday that SOUL will likely run out of money in about two weeks unless there are donations. Zoom out: The Trump administration is cutting costs and environmental justice efforts, like tree planting, are on the chopping block. This week, the Environmental Protection Agency said it plans to close its offices responsible for addressing the "disproportionately high levels of pollution facing poor communities," the New York Times reports. The EPA also says it will "end the use of 'environmental justice' as a tool for advancing ideological priorities," according to a press release about a recent "Cancer Alley" lawsuit. The statement from the Justice Department deemed them "radical DEI programs." What we're watching: The feds previously granted about $140 million to the city for programs that promote climate readiness and energy efficiency, writes Verite's Safura Syed. Just last year, the EPA awarded the city about $50 million to reduce greenhouse gas emissions. It's now unclear what will happen to the money or the city's Office of Resilience and Sustainability, which coordinates many of the efforts. What's next: Residents can still plant trees on their own dime this spring. Here are some suggestions from the LSU Ag Center. Go deeper New Orleans grapples with shrinking tree canopy New Orleans' heat island effect, mapped The climate gains of urban trees
