Claudia Sheinbaum, Mexico's incoming president, faces the daunting task of addressing the country's severe water shortages, exacerbated by climate change and decades of infrastructure neglect.
Mexico City suffers from a historic water crisis with intermittent contaminated water supply and significant leakage in the system.
As mayor, Sheinbaum initiated rainwater capture, aquifer restoration, and pipe upgrades, but lacked resources for significant impact.
With new presidential power and aligned local government, Sheinbaum could implement more comprehensive water management solutions.
Key quote:
“She has a very good record, and she started a lot of paradigm-shifting programs that opened new possibilities for approaching the water crisis. But these are still very small things compared to the scale of the problem.”
— Enrique Lomnitz, an engineer whose company, Isla Urbana, has built rainfall harvesting systems across Mexico City
Why this matters:
Mexico City’s water crisis affects millions. Sheinbaum, the first woman elected to Mexico's presidency, has pledged to make water security a top priority. Her plans include investing in modernizing the country's water infrastructure, promoting conservation efforts and addressing the root causes of water scarcity. However, she faces significant obstacles, including limited financial resources and the need for extensive coordination between federal, state and local governments.
Former Trump administration officials are feeling good about the potential for a second Trump term, following a series of favorable Supreme Court rulings that could reshape environmental regulations.
CAMERON PARISH, La. — Late into the night, John Allaire watches the facility next to his home shoot 300-foot flares from stacks.
He lives within eyesight of southwest Louisiana’s salty shores, where, for decades, he’s witnessed nearly 200 feet of land between it and his property line disappear into the sea. Two-thirds of the land was rebuilt to aid the oil and gas industry’s LNG expansion. LNG — shorthand for liquified natural gas – is natural gas that's cooled to liquid form for easier storage or transport; it equates to 1/600th the volume of natural gas in a gaseous state. It’s used to generate electricity, or fuel stove tops and home heaters, and in industrial processes like manufacturing fertilizer.
In the U.S., at least 30 new LNG terminal facilities have been constructed or proposed since 2016, according to the
Oil and Gas Watch project. Louisiana and Texas’ Gulf Coast, where five facilities are already operating, will host roughly two-thirds of the new LNG terminals – meaning at least 22 Gulf Coast LNG facilities are currently under construction, were recently approved to break ground or are under further regulatory review.
Although the U.S. didn’t ship LNG until 2016, when a freight tanker left, a few miles from where Cameron Parish’s LNG plants are today, last year the country became the global leader in LNG production and export volume, leapfrogging exporters like Qatar and Australia. The
EIA’s most recent annual outlook estimated that between the current year and 2050, U.S. LNG exports will increase by 152%.
Allaire, 68, watches how saltwater collects where rainwater once fed the area’s diminishing coastal wetlands. “We still come down here with the kids and set out the fishing rods. It's not as nice as it used to be,” he told
Environmental Health News (EHN).
That intimacy with nature drew Allaire to the area when he purchased 311 acres in 1998. An environmental engineer and 30-year oil and gas industry veteran, he helped lead environmental assessments and manage clean-ups, and although retired, he still works part-time as an environmental consultant with major petroleum companies. With a lifetime of oil and gas industry expertise, he’s watched the industry's footprint spread across Louisiana and the Gulf of Mexico’s fragile shores and beyond. Now that the footprints are at the edge of his backyard, Allaire is among a cohort of organizers, residents and fisher-folk in the region mobilizing to stop LNG facility construction. For him, the industry’s expansion usurps the right-or-wrong ethics he carried across his consulting career. For anglers, oil and gas infrastructure has destroyed fishing grounds and prevented smaller vessels from accessing the seafood-rich waters of the Calcasieu River.
From the view of Allaire’s white pickup truck as he drives across his property to the ocean’s shore, he points to where a new LNG facility will replace marshlands. Commonwealth LNG intends to clear the land of trees and then backfill the remaining low-lying field.
“You see what’s happening with the environment,” Allaire said. “When the facts change, I got to change my mind about what we’re doing.”
Community bands together
John Allaire, left, purchased 311 acres in Cameron Parish in 1998, and has watched the oil and gas industry's footprint spread to his property.
Credit: John Allaire
During an Earth Day rally in April, community members gathered in the urban center of Lake Charles to demand local oil and gas industries help deliver a safer, healthier future for all. In between live acts by artists performing south Louisiana’s quintessential zydeco musical style, speakers like James Hiatt, a Calcasieu Parish native with ties to Cameron Parish and a Healthy Gulf organizer, and RISE St. James organizer Sharon Lavigne, who’s fighting against LNG development in rural Plaquemines Parish near the city of New Orleans, asked the nearly 100 in attendance to imagine a day in which the skyline isn’t dotted by oil and gas infrastructure.
Not long ago, it was hard to imagine an Earth Day rally in southwest Louisiana at all. For decades, the area has been decorated with fossil fuel infrastructure. Sunsets on some days are highlighted by the chemicals in the air; at night, thousands of facilities’ lights dot the dark sky.
“It takes a lot of balls for people to start speaking up,” Shreyas Vasudevan, a campaign researcher with the Louisiana Bucket Brigade, told EHN in the days after the rally. In a region with its history and economy intertwined with oil and gas production, “you can get a lot of social criticism – or ostracization, as well – even threats to your life.”
Many are involved in local, regional and national advocacy groups, including the Louisiana Bucket Brigade, Healthy Gulf, the Sierra Club, the Natural Resources Defense Council, the Turtle Island Restoration Network, the Center for Biological Diversity and the National Audubon Society.
“You see what’s happening with the environment,” Allaire said. “When the facts change, I got to change my mind about what we’re doing.” - John Allaire, environmental engineer and 30-year oil and gas industry veteran
But environmental organizers are fighting a multi-billion-dollar industry with federal and state winds at its back. And LNG’s federal support is coupled with existing state initiatives.
Under outgoing Louisiana Gov. John Bel Edwards — a term-limited Democrat — the state pledged a goal of reaching net-zero greenhouse emissions by 2050. Natural gas, which the LNG industry markets as a cleaner-burning alternative, is cited as one of the state’s solutions. Louisiana is the only state that produces a majority of its carbon emissions through fossil fuels refining industries, like LNG, rather than energy production or transportation. Governor Edwards’ office did not return EHN’s request for comment.
This accommodating attitude towards oil and gas industries has resulted in a workforce that’s trained to work in LNG refining facilities across much of the rural Gulf region, said Steven Miles, a lawyer at Baker Botts LLP and a fellow at the Baker Institute’s Center on Energy Studies. Simultaneously, anti-industrialization pushback is lacking. It’s good news for industries like LNG.
“The bad news,” Miles added. “[LNG facilities] are all being jammed in the same areas.”
One rallying cry for opponents is local health. The Environmental Integrity Project found that LNG export terminals emit chemicals like carbon monoxide –potentially deadly– and sulfur dioxide, of which the American Lung Association says long-term exposure can lead to heart disease, cancer, and damage to internal or female reproductive organs.
An analysis of emissions monitoring reports by the advocacy group the Louisiana Bucket Brigade found that Venture Global’s existing Calcasieu Pass facility had more than 2,000 permit violations.That includes exceeding the permit’s authorized air emissions limit to release nitrogen oxides, carbon monoxide, particulate matter and volatile organic compounds 286 out of its first 343 days of operation.
The Marvel Crane, the first liquid natural gas carrier to transport natural gas from the Southwest Louisiana LNG facility, transits a channel in Hackberry, Louisiana, May 28, 2019.
“This is just one facility,” at a time when three more facilities have been proposed in the region and state, Vasudevan said. Venture Global’s operational LNG facility — also known as Calcasieu Pass — “is much smaller than the other facility they’ve proposed.”
In an area that experienced 18 feet of storm surge during Hurricane Laura in 2020 — and just weeks later, struck by Hurricane Delta — Venture Global is planning to build a second export terminal Known as “CP2,” it’s the largest of the roughly two dozen proposed Gulf LNG export terminals, and a key focal point for the region’s local organizing effort.
Residents “don’t really want LNG as much as they want Cameron [Parish] from 1990 back,” Hiatt told EHN of locals’ nostalgia for a community before storms like Rita in 2005 brought up to 15 feet of storm surge, only for Laura to repeat the damage in 2020. Throughout that time, the parish’s population dipped from roughly 10,000 to 5,000. “But the wolf knocking at the door is LNG. Folks in Cameron think that's going to bring back community, bring back the schools, bring back this time before we had all these storms — when Cameron was pretty prosperous.”
“Clearly,” for the oil and gas industry, “the idea is to transform what was once the center of commercial fishing in Louisiana to gas exports,” Cindy Robertson, an environmental activist in southwest Louisiana, told EHN.
Helping fishers’ impacted by LNG is about “actual survival of this unique culture,” Cooke said.
In a measure of organizers’ success, she pointed to a recent permit hearing for Venture Global’s CP2 proposal. Regionally, it’s the only project that’s received an environmental permit, but not its export permit, which remains under federal review. At the meeting, some spoke on the company’s behalf. As an organizer, it was a moment of clarity, Cooke explained. Venture Global officials “had obviously done a lot of coaching and organizing and getting people together in Cameron to speak out on their behalf,” Cooke said. “So, in a way, that was bad. But in another way, it shows that we really had an impact.”
“It also shows that we have a lot to do,” Cooke added.
Environmental organizers like Alyssa Portaro describe a sense of fortitude among activists — she and her husband to the region’s nearby town of Vinton near the Texas-Louisiana border. Since the families’ relocation to their farm, Portaro has worked with Cameron Parish fisher-folk.
“I’ve not witnessed ‘community’ anywhere like there is in Louisiana,” Portaro told EHN. But a New Jersey native, she understands the toll environmental pollution has on low-income communities. “This environment, it’s so at risk — and it’s currently getting sacrificed to big industries.”
“People don’t know what we’d do without oil and gas. It comes at a big price,” she added.
Southwest Louisiana’s Cameron Parish is one of the state’s most rural localities. Marine economies were the area’s economic drivers until natural disasters and LNG facilities began pushing locals out, commercial fishers claim.
Credit: Xander Peters for Environmental Health News
Residents “don’t really want LNG as much as they want Cameron [Parish] from 1990 back,” James Hiatt , a Healthy Gulf organizer, told EHN. "But the wolf knocking at the door is LNG."
Credit: Xander Peters for Environmental Health News
For the most part, Cameron Parish’s life and economy has historically taken place at sea. As new LNG facilities are operational or in planning locally, locals claim the community they once knew is nearly unrecognizable.
Credit: Xander Peters for Environmental Health News
A disappearing parish
The stakes are seemingly higher for a region like southwest Louisiana, which is the epicenter of climate change impacts.
In nearly a century, the state has lost roughly 2,000 square miles of land to coastal erosion. In part driving the state’s erosion crisis is the compounding impacts of Mississippi River infrastructure and oil and gas industry activity, such as dredging canals for shipping purposes, according to a March study published in the journal Nature Sustainability. Louisiana’s Coastal Protection and Restoration Authority said Cameron Parish could lose more land than other coastal parishes over the next 50 years. A recent Climate Central report says the parish will be underwater within that time frame.
On top of erosion and sea level rise impacts, in August, 2023, marshland across southwest Louisiana’s Cameron Parish burned. The fires were among at least 600 across the Bayou State this year. Statewide, roughly 60,000 acres burned — a more than six-fold increase of the state’s average acres burned per year in the past decade alone.
But while the blaze avoided coastal Louisiana communities like Cameron Parish, the fires represented a warning coming from a growing chorus of locals across the region — one that’s echoes by the local commercial fishing population, who claimed to have experienced unusually low yields during the same time, according to a statement from a local environmental group. At the site of the Cameron Parish fires are locations for two proposed LNG expansion projects.
"The idea is to transform what was once the center of commercial fishing in Louisiana to gas exports.” - Cindy Robertson, an environmental activist in southwest Louisiana
It was an unusual occurrence for an area that’s more often itself underwater this time of year due to a storm surge from powerful storms. For LNG expansion’s local opposition, it was a red flag.
As the Louisiana Bucket Brigade has noted prior, the confluence of climate change’s raising of sea levels and the construction of LNG export terminals — some are proposed at the size of nearly 700 football fields — are wiping away the marshland folks like Allaire watched wither. Among their fears is that the future facilities won’t be able to withstand the power of another storm like Laura and its storm surge, which wiped away entire communities in 2020.
Amidst these regional climate impacts, LNG infrastructure has shown potential to exacerbate the accumulation of greenhouse gasses that cause global warming. For the most part, LNG is made up of methane — a greenhouse gas that’s more than 80 times more potent than carbon dioxide in the atmosphere. Among the 22 current LNG facility proposals, the advocacy group Sierra Club described a combined climate pollution output that would roughly equal to that of about 440 coal plants.
The climate impacts prompt some of the LNG industry’s uncertainty going forward. It isn’t clear if Asian countries, key importers of U.S. LNG, will “embrace these energy transition issues,” said David Dismuke, an energy consultant and the former executive director of Louisiana State University’s Center for Energy Studies. Likewise, European nations remain skeptical of embracing LNG as a future staple fuel source.
“They really don't want to have to pull the trigger,” Dismukes added, referring to Europe’s hesitation to commit more resources to exporting LNG from the American market. “They don't want to go down that road.”
While there will be a tapering down of natural gas supply, Miles explained, “we’re going to need natural gas for a long time,” as larger battery storage for renewables is still unavailable.
“I'm not one of these futurists that can tell you where we're going to be, but I just don't see everything being extreme,” Dismukes said. “I don't see what we've already built getting stranded and going away, either.”
For now, LNG seems here to stay. From 2012 to 2022,U.S. natural gas demand — the sum of both domestic consumption and gross exports — rose by a whopping 43%, reported the U.S. Energy Information Administration, or EIA. Meanwhile, in oil and gas hotbeds like Louisiana and Texas, natural gas demand grew by 116%.
Throughout 25 years, Allaire has witnessed southwest Louisiana’s land slowly fade, in part driven by the same industrial spread regionally. Near where the front door of his travel trailer sits underneath the aluminum awning, he points to a chenier ridge located near the end of the property. It’s disappearing, he said.
“See the sand washing over, in here?” Allaire says, as he points towards the stretches of his property. “This pond used to go down for a half mile. This is all that's left of it on this side.”
President Biden denounced climate change denial and announced new regulations to protect workers from extreme heat, as California and Oregon prepare for record-breaking temperatures.
President Biden emphasized the dangers of ignoring climate change and highlighted the deadly impact of extreme heat, proposing new regulations for worker protection.
The proposed OSHA regulation would mandate that employers monitor workers and provide rest areas and water when the heat index reaches 80 degrees or higher.
Environmental groups and labor unions praised the protections, while industry groups argued the rule would be costly and hard to implement.
Key quote:
“Anyone who wilfully denies the impacts of climate change is condemning the American people to a dangerous future and either is really, really dumb or has some other motive.”
— U.S. President Joe Biden
Why this matters:
Extreme heat is the deadliest weather-related hazard in the U.S., causing more deaths than floods, hurricanes and tornadoes combined. As climate change intensifies, extreme heat poses greater health risks, making protective regulations increasingly important for worker safety and public health resilience. Read more: We are undercounting heat-related deaths in the US.
The oil industry has withdrawn its $40 million campaign against a California law protecting communities from oil drilling, but may challenge the measure in court.
California’s Senate Bill 1137, signed in 2022, bans new oil wells within 3,200 feet of sensitive sites like homes and schools and tightens oversight of existing wells.
Research has shown that Black and Latino and low-income Californians are most likely to be living near oil and gas wells.
The oil industry spent over $60 million on lobbying and campaigning to overturn the law, but withdrew their referendum efforts after facing strong opposition from communities.
Grassroots activists and legislators remain vigilant as the oil industry might pursue legal challenges against the law, arguing violations of private property laws.
Key quote:
“I think the fossil fuel industry saw that power, the power of that organizing and that momentum. And I think they knew it was a losing battle.”
— Luis Martinez, campaigns organizer with the nonprofit Fossil Free California.
Why this matters:
Neighborhood oil drilling exposes residents, especially in low-income and minority communities, to harmful chemicals linked to cancer and respiratory issues. This law, a cornerstone of California's aggressive environmental policies, seeks to create safer distances between oil drilling sites and residential areas, schools and other sensitive locations. For many Californians, especially those in lower-income and predominantly minority neighborhoods, this is a long-awaited step towards reducing health risks such as respiratory problems and other pollution-related ailments.
Environmental advocates want Louisiana to block air permits for a planned 2,400-acre plastics facility due to new federal air quality standards and concerns over toxic pollution.
EarthJustice and six environmental groups argue the Formosa Plastics project in St. James Parish would violate EPA standards for particulate matter, also called "soot" and dust.
EarthJustice submitted a letter urging the Louisiana Department of Environmental Quality to deny Formosa’s permit renewal, arguing it would exacerbate the already poor air quality in the communities of the corridor between New Orleans and Baton Rouge known as “Cancer Alley.”
The U.S. EPA and local residents are also pushing for an investigation into mercury-laden dust from the Atalco Gramercy refinery.
Key quote:
“When they get this application, they need to reduce Formosa Plastics emissions so that it isn’t worsening the problem.”
— Mike Brown, senior attorney with EarthJustice.
Why this matters:
The proposed plastics plant could worsen air quality in an area already plagued by industrial pollution. Advocates are particularly concerned about "Cancer Alley," a stretch of the Mississippi River between Baton Rouge and New Orleans known for its high concentration of petrochemical plants and elevated cancer rates. They worry that adding another massive facility to this already burdened region would exacerbate existing health disparities.
Manitoba has seen 6.5 million liters of oil and saltwater spill from pipelines since 2008, with no fines issued.
The provincial government previously cut environmental oversight, leaving oil companies to self-regulate and report spills.
Experts warn that this self-regulation model poses significant environmental and public health risks.
Key quote:
“It’s really a self-governance model where industry gets to mark its own homework.”
— Alan Andrews, lawyer with the environmental law charity EcoJustice.
Why this matters:
In rural Manitoba, where agriculture and natural resources play a crucial role in daily life, the impact of oil spills can be devastating. The leaked oil and saltwater can degrade soil quality, making it unsuitable for farming and contaminate water supplies, posing risks to both human health and wildlife. Despite these severe consequences, the lack of regulatory action highlights a troubling oversight in environmental governance.
The U.S. is investing millions in anaerobic digesters to cut methane emissions from cattle, but critics argue this may boost industrial-scale farming and methane production.
The Inflation Reduction Act funds anaerobic digesters to convert manure into biogas, aiming to reduce methane emissions.
Critics claim the funding encourages the expansion of larger farms, potentially increasing overall methane emissions.
The Biden Administration views digesters as a key technology for meeting the Global Methane Pledge targets of reducing the country’s methane emissions by 30% by 2030. So far, the U.S. is falling short on achieving that goal.
Key quote:
"Cutting methane quickly is the best lever we have to slow global warming in the next couple decades. Digesters are the single most effective tool in our toolbox."
— Michael Lerner, director of research at Energy Vision, a nonprofit that focuses on methane reduction.
As mounds of dredged material from the Houston Ship Channel dot their neighborhoods, residents are left without answers as to what dangers could be lurking.
