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So why isn’t it happening?
When I was in high school, I had to memorize the entire taxonomic hierarchy of the American moose. But I never learned about greenhouse gases.
This never struck me as odd until I read a recent op-ed in The Boston Globe by Anita Soracco, a professor of physics and environmental science at Massachusetts’ Quinsigamond Community College. “Over the past 13 years,” she wrote, “my students have consistently expressed disappointment and dismay that they hadn’t previously been taught about the climate crisis or the many environmental justice issues that plague their communities as a result.”
What’s perhaps even more dismaying is that most Americans want climate education in schools. A recent Heatmap News poll found that three-quarters of Americans (74%) believe that the government should encourage schools to incorporate climate change into their curriculum, including over half of Republicans (59%) and 75% of Independents. A full third of Americans (33%) said they strongly support such a proposal. In a separate question, 62% of Americans called it “important” for schools to incorporate climate change education, a number that is roughly on par with how many agree with the scientific consensus that climate change is a result of human activity (68%).
Patrick Belmonte, the co-founder of Change Is Simple — an organization that helps to bring hands-on environmental education programs to schools primarily in the Northeast — told me the poll results didn’t surprise him. “How could you not want to educate children who are going to inherit this planet to understand it?” he asked, adding: “I don’t even understand how you can be asked that question and say, ‘No, I don’t want them to know!’”
But when it comes to the state of climate education across the country, it can be — forgive the pun — all over the map. I asked Soracco, the author of the Boston Globe op-ed, what letter grade she’d give the nation for its climate education programs and she cringed and answered “probably a D.” While the Next Generation Science Standards — a framework adopted by 20 states so far and that covers a little over a third of all U.S. students — recommends teaching climate change in science classes beginning with grade five, “it’s not very specific,” Soracco went on. “And the standards are voluntary, and so even if we put them in the state standards, it can be very performative.”
Back in 2020, the National Center for Science Education and the Texas Freedom Network Education Fund looked at this problem more closely. According to their findings, “a bare majority — just 27 — of the 50 states and District of Columbia have standards that earned a B+ or better for how they address climate change” with “only six non-NGSS states [earning] a B+ or better for their science standards.”
While some of these results cut across partisan lines in a way that might be expected, that isn’t always the case. Wyoming, the country’s second-biggest oil and gas producer on federal lands, was the only state in the nation to earn an A grade in teaching climate change, leading the study’s authors to write that “education policymakers can do a reasonably good job of adopting science standards that reflect the scientific consensus” — even against politically or economically hostile backdrops.
Still, even the most motivated educators face an uphill battle, Belmonte said. “Not only do they have to teach to a designed curriculum and help their students achieve their goals, but they are also social workers and psychologists to all these kids in their classrooms. To ask them to figure out how to teach thoughtful and meaningful climate education, which is such a deep and profound existential thing that we’re all dealing with — it seems just far too much on their shoulders.”
Belmonte’s organization helps alleviate some of that pressure on teachers by traveling to classrooms to teach climate science programs to students. “But we can’t fulfill the needs that the schools have,” he confessed. “Schools all over the country are reaching out to us — and we have a scaling plan, but we’re still trying to get the funding.”
Critically, a K-12 climate education is about more than just preparing students for an Intro to Environmental Science course in college. According to a 2020 study by Eugene Cordero, college students who took a one-year course on global climate change at San Jose State University “reduced their individual carbon emissions by 2.86 tons of CO2 per year,” even five years after taking the class. As Soracco marvels in her op-ed, “Consider the impact if that education began in kindergarten instead.”
What’s more, kids love learning about the climate, Belmonte told me. “They can’t wait to help this planet. They can’t wait to help their home. They want to live healthy lives and help their communities.” And out of the 50,000 or so students his organization has helped to teach so far, “I’ve run into very few children who are resistant to this. I mean, we can count on two hands the kids that are like, ‘Meh, I don’t want to do this’ — and most of the time it has nothing to do with climate and has more to do with just their state of being, whatever they’re going through in their lives.”
There is, however, an obstacle that is perhaps even more worrying than climate denial or funding. When asked about the trustworthiness of various sources of information on climate change, just 21% of respondents told Heatmap they trust local teachers on the issue. By comparison, 45% said they trust climate scientists and 35% said they trust their friends and family for information.
Belmonte speculated the low response might be because of “a lack of confidence in the potential curriculum” in places like Florida, where climate curriculum has stirred up controversy, or Oklahoma and Ohio, where fossil fuel trade groups sponsor classroom teaching aids. When I looked at the crosstabs after our call, it was the Midwest that had the lowest confidence in teachers (15%) and, surprisingly, the South with the highest (24%).
I asked Soracco the same question and she circled back to the fact that teachers often feel underprepared to teach about climate change “because they haven’t had adequate training.” But any ignorance in our school systems is a luxury that comes from not being on the very front lines of this crisis, she stressed.
Students, however, are smart. Even if climate change isn’t in their classrooms yet, it’s certainly in the world they’re living in. They “look around now and they see it,” she told me. “They’re like, ‘Man, we don’t really have winter anymore.’”
The Heatmap Climate Poll of 1,000 American adults was conducted by Benenson Strategy Group via online panels from Nov. 6 to 13, 2023. The survey included interviews with Americans in all 50 states and Washington, D.C. The margin of sampling error is plus or minus 3.1 percentage points. You can read about our results here.
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And more on the week’s most important conflicts around renewable energy projects.
1. Lawrence County, Alabama – We now have a rare case of a large solar farm getting federal approval.
2. Virginia Beach, Virginia – It’s time to follow up on the Coastal Virginia offshore wind project.
3. Fairfield County, Ohio – The red shirts are beating the greens out in Ohio, and it isn’t looking pretty.
4. Allen County, Indiana – Sometimes a setback can really set someone back.
5. Adams County, Illinois – Hope you like boomerangs because this county has approved a solar project it previously denied.
6. Solano County, California – Yet another battery storage fight is breaking out in California. This time, it’s north of San Francisco.
A conversation with Elizabeth McCarthy of the Breakthrough Institute.
This week’s conversation is with Elizabeth McCarthy of the Breakthrough Institute. Elizabeth was one of several researchers involved in a comprehensive review of a decade of energy project litigation – between 2013 and 2022 – under the National Environment Policy Act. Notably, the review – which Breakthrough released a few weeks ago – found that a lot of energy projects get tied up in NEPA litigation. While she and her colleagues ultimately found fossil fuels are more vulnerable to this problem than renewables, the entire sector has a common enemy: difficulty of developing on federal lands because of NEPA. So I called her up this week to chat about what this research found.
The following conversation was lightly edited for clarity.
So why are you so fixated on NEPA?
Personally and institutionally, [Breakthrough is] curious about all regulatory policy – land use, environmental regulatory policy – and we see NEPA as the thing that connects them all. If we understand how that’s functioning at a high level, we can start to pull at the strings of other players. So, we wanted to understand the barrier that touches the most projects.
What aspects of zero-carbon energy generation are most affected by NEPA?
Anything with a federal nexus that doesn’t include tax credits. Solar and wind that is on federal land is subject to a NEPA review, and anything that is linear infrastructure – transmission often has to go through multiple NEPA reviews. We don’t see a ton of transmission being litigated over on our end, but we think that is a sign NEPA is such a known obstacle that no one even wants to touch a transmission line that’ll go through 14 years of review, so there’s this unknown graveyard of transmission that wasn’t even planned.
In your report, you noted there was a relatively small number of zero-carbon energy projects in your database of NEPA cases. Is solar and wind just being developed more frequently on private land, so there’s less of these sorts of conflicts?
Precisely. The states that are the most powered by wind or create the most wind energy are Texas and Iowa, and those are bypassing the national federal environmental review process [with private land], in addition to not having their own state requirements, so it’s easier to build projects.
What would you tell a solar or wind developer about your research?
This is confirming a lot of things they may have already instinctually known or believed to be true, which is that NEPA and filling out an environmental impact statement takes a really long time and is likely to be litigated over. If you’re a developer who can’t avoid putting your energy project on federal land, you may just want to avoid moving forward with it – the cost may outweigh whatever revenue you could get from that project because you can’t know how much money you’ll have to pour into it.
Huh. Sounds like everything is working well. I do think your work identifies a clear risk in developing on federal lands, which is baked into the marketplace now given the pause on permits for renewables on federal lands.
Yeah. And if you think about where the best places would be to put these technologies? It is on federal lands. The West is way more federal land than anywhere else in the county. Nevada is a great place to put solar — there’s a lot of sun. But we’re not going to put anything there if we can’t put anything there.
What’s the remedy?
We propose a set of policy suggestions. We think the judicial review process could be sped along or not be as burdensome. Our research most obviously points to shortening the statute of limitations under the Administrative Procedures Act from six years to six months, because a great deal of the projects we reviewed made it in that time, so you’d see more cases in good faith as opposed to someone waiting six years waiting to challenge it.
We also think engaging stakeholders much earlier in the process would help.
The Bureau of Land Management says it will be heavily scrutinizing transmission lines if they are expressly necessary to bring solar or wind energy to the power grid.
Since the beginning of July, I’ve been reporting out how the Trump administration has all but halted progress for solar and wind projects on federal lands through a series of orders issued by the Interior Department. But last week, I explained it was unclear whether transmission lines that connect to renewable energy projects would be subject to the permitting freeze. I also identified a major transmission line in Nevada – the north branch of NV Energy’s Greenlink project – as a crucial test case for the future of transmission siting in federal rights-of-way under Trump. Greenlink would cross a litany of federal solar leases and has been promoted as “essential to helping Nevada achieve its de-carbonization goals and increased renewable portfolio standard.”
Well, BLM has now told me Greenlink North will still proceed despite a delay made public shortly after permitting was frozen for renewables, and that the agency still expects to publish the record of decision for the line in September.
This is possible because, as BLM told me, transmission projects that bring solar and wind power to the grid will be subject to heightened scrutiny. In an exclusive statement, BLM press secretary Brian Hires told me via e-mail that a secretarial order choking out solar and wind permitting on federal lands will require “enhanced environmental review for transmission lines only when they are a part of, and necessary for, a wind or solar energy project.”
However, if a transmission project is not expressly tied to wind or solar or is not required for those projects to be constructed… apparently, then it can still get a federal green light. For instance in the case of Greenlink, the project itself is not explicitly tied to any single project, but is kind of like a transmission highway alongside many potential future solar projects. So a power line can get approved if it could one day connect to wind or solar, but the line’s purpose cannot solely be for a wind or solar project.
This is different than, say, lines tied explicitly to connecting a wind or solar project to an existing transmission network. Known as gen-tie lines, these will definitely face hardships with this federal government. This explains why, for example, BLM has yet to approve a gen-tie line for a wind project in Wyoming that would connect the Lucky Star wind project to the grid.
At the same time, it appears projects may be given a wider berth if a line has other reasons for existing, like improving resilience on the existing grid, or can be flexibly used by not just renewables but also fossil energy.
So, the lesson to me is that if you’re trying to build transmission infrastructure across federal property under this administration, you might want to be a little more … vague.