Trump signed executive orders to jumpstart coal production, including efforts to label it a "mineral" and direct $200 billion in financing toward coal infrastructure.
His plan targets powering AI data centers with coal and keeping aging plants online, but utilities remain uninterested in building new coal facilities.
Experts and even coal-friendly Republicans admit market forces — like cheap natural gas and renewables — make a true coal resurgence unlikely.
Key quote:
“I don’t think this order changes the facts that coal-fired power plants are old, expensive to run, and unlikely to operate very often or for many more years.”
— Rob Gramlich, president of power grid consulting firm Grid Strategies
Why this matters:
Trump is once again trying to dig coal out of its economic grave, but even the industry isn’t buying it. Trump’s push for coal flies in the face of the health and climate realities tied to burning one of the dirtiest fuels. While the president may want to reframe coal as a patriotic lifeline to fuel a high-tech future, that idea ignores the fact that coal is a top-tier climate pollutant tied to heart disease, black lung, and increasingly extreme weather.
Clean energy sources provided more than 40% of global electricity in 2024, driven by a record surge in solar power that has more than doubled in capacity in just three years.
Solar power accounted for nearly 7% of global electricity last year, while wind contributed just over 8%, both still trailing hydropower’s 14% share.
A report by Ember found clean energy is now growing faster than global electricity demand, signaling a potential shift away from fossil fuels.
Despite gains, emissions from the power sector rose 1.6% to a record high in 2024, fueled by heatwaves and increased demand for cooling and digital infrastructure.
Key quote:
“Solar power has become the engine of the global energy transition. Paired with battery storage, solar is set to be an unstoppable force.”
— Phil MacDonald, managing director of the Ember energy thinktank
Why this matters:
Power generation is the single largest source of greenhouse gas emissions globally, and while clean energy technologies like wind and solar are making record gains, they’re still not outpacing demand. Emerging forces — from energy-hungry artificial intelligence systems to the rising number of electric vehicles and widespread air-conditioning during record-breaking heat — are stretching grids and escalating the need for more electricity. Yet much of that demand is still being met by fossil fuels. The paradox is stark: Clean power is growing faster than ever, but so is overall energy consumption.
As flooding overwhelms communities like Natchitoches, Louisiana, the Trump administration has quietly ended a climate resilience program that saved taxpayers $6 for every $1 spent, withdrawing support from disaster-prone, low-income, and Black communities.
The Federal Emergency Management Agency (FEMA) has canceled over $1 billion in BRIC grants, including funds earmarked for Natchitoches, Louisiana, to support disaster-prevention infrastructure like backup generators for flood response.
BRIC, created under Trump in 2018 but expanded under Biden, prioritized pre-disaster planning in disadvantaged communities. Its cancellation reflects broader efforts by the current Trump administration to reverse climate-related equity programs.
The program funded projects like floodwalls, wetland restoration, and upgraded drainage systems. FEMA estimated that every dollar spent saved $6 in future disaster costs.
Key quote:
“Any funding, especially for a smaller place, you want to win and keep it. I don’t have an unlimited pot of money.”
— Ronnie Williams, mayor of Natchitoches
Why this matters:
Originally created to help communities fortify themselves before disaster strikes, BRIC focused on proactive infrastructure investments—flood walls, fire breaks, storm-proof housing—especially in areas historically left behind by federal recovery efforts. Its absence will likely be most keenly felt by poor, rural, and Black communities, who have long faced systemic hurdles in accessing both private insurance and government aid. The consequences go beyond physical safety: Research shows that after disasters, white households often see their net worth increase due to quicker access to recovery resources, while Black families and renters typically experience steep financial losses.
Memphis and other parts of the South saw deadly storms and record rainfall, renewing fears that flood control efforts may not be enough as climate-driven weather extremes worsen.
A multiday storm dumped up to 15 inches of rain across parts of Tennessee, killing at least 10 people and straining drainage systems that narrowly prevented major flooding in Memphis.
Experts warn these events are becoming more frequent due to warmer temperatures and moisture from the Gulf, while existing flood defenses may not keep up.
Tennessee officials are pushing for improved forecasting tools like a $3 million mesonet sensor network, though other efforts remain stalled.
Key quote:
“This much rain in such a short period of time, we’ve never experienced that — especially over such a wide area.”
— Cliff Berry Jr., mayor of Tiptonville
Why this matters:
What might have once been rare, days-long deluges are now hitting cities like Memphis or Nashville with little warning, straining aging infrastructure built for a different era. The challenge is especially acute in areas where urban development has sprawled over what used to be porous land, leaving stormwater with nowhere to go. It’s a collision of natural forces and human choices — climate change meets concrete. The aftermath doesn’t end when the water recedes. Communities are grappling with mold outbreaks, sewage contamination, and mental health burdens tied to repeated disasters. And since flood maps and building codes often lag behind reality, residents find themselves caught in a gap between what has been planned for and what is coming.
New York City could lose over 80,000 homes to climate-driven flooding in the next 15 years, compounding an already severe housing crisis across the region.
A report by the Regional Plan Association estimates that 82,000 homes across Staten Island, Queens, Long Island, and Westchester could be lost to flooding by 2040.
The New York metro region already faces a shortfall of 362,000 homes, a number expected to rise to 1.2 million due to flooding, population growth, and aging housing stock.
Officials and planners are urging major zoning changes and resilience investments, including floodwalls, managed retreat, and denser housing, to offset losses and adapt to extreme weather.
Key quote:
“You’re going to need to build more housing to just replace what is lost in your own municipality.”
— Moses Gates, vice president for housing and neighborhood planning, Regional Plan Association
Why this matters:
As sea levels rise and coastal storms intensify, cities like New York are confronting a double crisis: a deepening housing shortage colliding with the escalating risks of climate change. Once considered safe and stable, many neighborhoods—particularly those in flood-prone areas like the Rockaways or parts of Staten Island—now lie on the frontlines of environmental upheaval. Officials face growing pressure to decide whether to build costly sea walls, encourage managed retreat, or embrace new models of urban density that prioritize both resilience and equity.
A Biden-era rule to cut toxic emissions near petrochemical plants is under threat as the Trump administration considers industry requests to delay compliance.
Industry groups asked the U.S. Environmental Protection Agency for a two-year exemption from a major air pollution rule targeting cancer-linked emissions from petrochemical plants, citing high costs and operational challenges.
Communities in Louisiana’s “Cancer Alley,” where many residents are Black and already exposed to high levels of chloroprene and ethylene oxide, fear the rollback would prolong their exposure to dangerous air toxins.
The Trump administration has signaled willingness to consider waivers under a Clean Air Act clause tied to national security, putting enforcement of the emissions rule in limbo.
Key quote:
“They are now just saying publicly like this that our lives are not important when it comes to the profits of these corporations.”
— Robert Taylor, leader of Concerned Citizens of St. John the Baptist Parish
Why this matters:
In the stretch of southern Louisiana between Baton Rouge and New Orleans — known grimly as “Cancer Alley” — residents have long lived in the shadow of massive petrochemical facilities. For years, public health researchers and environmental watchdogs have sounded alarms about sky-high levels of carcinogens like chloroprene and ethylene oxide in the air, particularly near predominantly Black, working-class communities. These chemicals are linked to cancers of the liver, lungs, and lymphatic system, with children facing even greater risks due to their developing bodies and higher exposure rates. Under the Biden administration, some steps were taken to tighten emissions standards and invest in air monitoring, but now, as President Trump resumes efforts to cut regulations in the name of economic growth and national security, those modest gains could be undone.
In isolated regions across the globe, environmental and human rights activists continue to face violence, legal harassment, and intimidation with limited state support or legal recourse, according to a new United Nations report.
A UN report from Special Rapporteur Mary Lawlor finds that rural defenders, particularly those protecting land, water, and forests, are increasingly vulnerable to violence, surveillance, and legal threats.
Businesses often play a role in undermining these defenders through extractive projects and lawsuits like SLAPPs that drain resources and silence dissent.
Activists, especially women and Indigenous people, develop grassroots networks for protection, as formal state support is rare and unreliable.
Key quote:
“There’s over 300 killings of human rights defenders every year, and about 70 percent of them are on people defending land: Indigenous and environmental defenders.”
— Mary Lawlor, United Nations Special Rapporteur on the situation of human rights defenders
Why this matters:
As extractive industries push ever deeper into remote regions, rural environmental defenders are increasingly targeted by a lethal combination of private security forces, corrupt officials, and laws designed to punish rather than protect. Many of these defenders are Indigenous leaders, small-scale farmers, and women, whose work in protecting water, forests, and wildlife directly supports climate and conservation goals touted by international agreements. Yet, they often lack access to legal recourse, visibility in the press, or even reliable internet, making them acutely vulnerable. This erosion of environmental stewardship not only accelerates biodiversity loss but also deepens inequality, as marginalized communities are left without advocates while polluting industries face little resistance.
Prisons, jails and detention centers are placed in locations where environmental hazards such as toxic landfills, floods and extreme heat are the norm.
