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Don’t let the political process intimidate you.
Driving less has a lot of benefits. You’ll be healthier than your vehicle-bound peers, about a third of whom don’t walk for more than 10 minutes a week. You’ll cut carbon dioxide, nitrous oxide, and methane emissions. In the process, you’ll probably realize how awful America’s public and active transportation infrastructure is — and may want to do something about it.
The same goes for just about any action you’ll find in Heatmap’s guide to decarbonizing your life. Should it be easier to get a permit to install rooftop solar panels? For sure. Should there be more public chargers to support EV adoption in your community? Without a doubt.
It can be especially overwhelming to think about getting involved in your local political processes when it comes to mobility because the cards are stacked so heavily in drivers’ favor. But it’s far from impossible. Here’s Heatmap’s guide to advocating for better transportation options and infrastructure in your community.
This might be the hardest step of all. To take transportation as an example, most American cities and towns were literally constructed to get drivers from point A to point B as fast as possible — meaning that their design is often actively hostile to anyone who wants to walk, bike, or take mass transit instead. If you put your mind to it, you could probably devise a dozen ways to make your immediate neighborhood friendlier to carless commuters.
Transportation for America’s transit advocate guide has several suggested starting places, including advocating for additional late-night service on a particular bus route, improving access to transit stations or stops (known as first- or last-mile connectivity), and pushing for shuttle services to connect riders with jobs. Petitioning for something like a bike lane, new sidewalk, safer intersections, or a missing crosswalk is another good place to start.
“Focus on one individual project,” Alexa Sledge, the communications director at Transportation Alternatives, a New York City nonprofit promoting non-polluting, safe, and quiet travel, told me. Being clear and focused on what you want — and, importantly, not getting overwhelmed or pulled in multiple directions — will help you achieve your goal. Strong Towns, a nonprofit that supports transportation advocates, calls this step the “humble observation:” identifying where people are struggling in your community and zeroing in on the smallest first possible step to help.
Here’s the excellent news: You aren’t in this fight alone.
Pretty much every major city and metropolitan region in the U.S. has its own transportation advocacy group these days, and you’re potentially just a Google search away from locating yours. (If you can’t find a transportation-specific group, look into local climate or pedestrian organizations, which frequently have overlapping objectives.)
It’s important to link up with others not just because they might already have identified priority projects in your area. Advocating for structural change requires, by definition, allies — and unfortunately, car-centricity is so dominant that transit advocates are often forced to prove the obvious community benefits of things like better bus routes or protected bike lanes.
If you don’t live in an area with an active transit group, nationwide organizations like Transportation for America and Strong Towns can connect with to get the tools, resources, training, and advice you need to start gathering allies.
How do I change a zoning law? Or weigh in on a renewable energy project near me?
Maybe you’re reading this guide because you’re interested in advocating climate-conscious zoning reform or want to weigh in on a wind farm nearby. There is a “profound diversity” of processes to do so from municipality to municipality, and no one-size-fits-all approach. That’s why it’s extra important to get involved with a local advocacy group; veteran organizers in your area can help you navigate the labyrinthine processes of your specific local government.
That said, here are a few things to keep your eyes peeled for:
There is an old urban planning joke about how traffic woes could be fixed by adding just one more lane. (They can’t be). Alas, this is also something of a federal policy; even though the 2021 Bipartisan Infrastructure Law set aside $36 billion to “transform our transportation system,” many states used their flexible funds for things like widening roads. Mass and active transit are often only an afterthought when it comes to funding: the Capital Investment Grants Program, one of the most significant federal programs for transit, is on the chopping block every budget-writing session, and programs like the Highway Trust Fund puts as little as 13% toward mass transit.
It’s our elected officials who make these decisions, though — and it’s their job to listen to their constituents. Here’s a handy page for determining the relevant senators and representatives to contact about federal funding for transit and active mobility policies; for local projects, you’ll want to reach out to your city council members, whose names and email addresses or phone numbers you should be able to find on your city website. And if you feel you’re getting brushed off by city staff when you reach out, focus on the smallest possible steps forward and be persistent (you can learn more strategies here).
The truth is, most people don’t go to their city council meetings. “When you really get down to the local level, there often aren’t as many people fighting, so you really can make a big difference,” Sledge said. Speaking up at hearings, town halls, public comment periods, or city council meetings can result in significant change and progress.
But let’s face it: Because most of us don’t have experience in local activism, telling someone to “go to a city council meeting” is much easier said than done. “The thing to remember is that your city council members work for you,” Sledge said. “They are elected members of your government, and you vote for them, and they are paid with taxpayer money. It’s part of their job to listen to you.”
Doug Gordon, the cohost of The War on Cars, a podcast about the fight against car culture, also suggested taking some of the pressure off yourself. “Don’t feel like you have to give the rousing patriotic speech in defense of the neighborhood bike lane,” he told me. “Just go and listen, and maybe if all that’s asked of you is to raise your hand when they ask how many people support this project, and that’s all you do, great.”
You don’t necessarily need to show up at a town council meeting or a representative’s office, either. Sledge suggested taking smaller steps like a phone call or email, or even just talking to people in your immediate community (for example, if you want a crosswalk outside your kid’s school, start by talking to the school board or other parents). When approaching someone like your city counselor, use language like: “This crosswalk is really important to me. How do I get this done?”
1. Depending on the project you’re pursuing, look up when your local transportation authority is inviting public comments ( here’s an example of what that page looks like in New York City). You can also search for when your state is holding public transportation hearings (here’s what Oklahoma’s looks like) and contact the relevant representatives to express your views. Most likely, though, you’ll be looking for your town’s public meeting schedule (here’s an example of San Jose’s) and seeking a special session related to transportation or a regular business meeting. Virtual hearings have also been common since the pandemic.
2. Research beforehand to learn how to comment publicly in your city or town. This may involve signing up on the town’s website or on a sign-in sheet when you arrive at the hearing.
3. In most cases, during the public comment portion of the city council meeting, you can address the council on any public issue (it does not have to be on the agenda). Again, check your city or town’s website to learn the specifics of procedures. Also, be aware of the time limit for your comments; generally, you’ll have about three minutes.
When you’re called on:
During your comment, you will probably see a timer somewhere in the room to help you track how long you have left to speak. The best comments are short and concise. Even if you’re frustrated with the process, be polite; remember that your comment can be seen and cited by anyone, including the media. Speak slowly. Here’s a guide for making an effective public comment from the National Resources Defense Council, with a sample script.
“If changing the system was easy,” writes Strong Towns, “we’d have done it long ago.” Many campaigns take years to come to fruition — being persistent and building a consensus, so advocates are working together toward the same cause, are two of the biggest lessons for success that Transportation for America stresses in their case studies.
It may take getting creative. Join the greater transportation advocacy community; listen to relevant podcasts, read related books, watch relevant YouTube videos, and learn from other campaigns. “You need a website, you need a public petition, and you need a T-shirt, because otherwise you’re just somebody with an opinion,” Rob Goodspeed, a founder of Trains Not Lanes, which successfully convinced Michigan’s Department of Transportation to drop highway expansion plans, told Streetsblog.
And when you do finallysucceed? Celebrate. Promote it. Share your lessons with other organizers. Then identify a new project and begin again.
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Current conditions: Bosnia’s capital of Sarajevo is blanketed in a layer of toxic smog • Temperatures in Perth, in Western Australia, could hit 106 degrees Fahrenheit this weekend • It is cloudy in Washington, D.C., where lawmakers are scrambling to prevent a government shutdown.
The weather has gotten so weird that the U.S. National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration is holding internal talks about how to adjust its models to produce more accurate forecasts, the Financial Timesreported. Current models are based on temperature swings observed over one part of the Pacific Ocean that have for years correlated consistently with specific weather phenomena across the globe, but climate change seems to be disrupting that cause and effect pattern, making it harder to predict things like La Niña and El Niño. Many forecasters had expected La Niña to appear by now and help cool things down, but that has yet to happen. “It’s concerning when this region we’ve studied and written all these papers on is not related to all the impacts you’d see with [La Niña],” NOAA’s Michelle L’Heureux told the FT. “That’s when you start going ‘uh-oh’ there may be an issue here we need to resolve.”
There is quite a lot of news coming out of the Department of Energy as the year (and the Biden administration) comes to an end. A few recent updates:
Walmart, the world’s largest retailer, does not expect to meet its 2025 or 2030 emissions targets, and is putting the blame on policy, infrastructure, and technology limitations. The company previously pledged to cut its emissions by 35% by next year, and 65% by the end of the decade. Emissions in 2023 were up 4% year-over-year.
Walmart
“While we continue to work toward our aspirational target of zero operational emissions by 2040, progress will not be linear … and depends not only on our own initiatives but also on factors beyond our control,” Walmart’s statement said. “These factors include energy policy and infrastructure in Walmart markets around the world, availability of more cost-effective low-GWP refrigeration and HVAC solutions, and timely emergence of cost-effective technologies for low-carbon heavy tractor transportation (which does not appear likely until the 2030s).”
BlackRock yesterday said it is writing down the value of its Global Renewable Power Fund III following the failure of Northvolt and SolarZero, two companies the fund had invested in. Its net internal rate of return was -0.3% at the end of the third quarter, way down from 11.5% in the second quarter, according toBloomberg. Sectors like EV charging, transmission, and renewable energy generation and storage have been “particularly challenged,” executives said, and some other renewables companies in the portfolio have yet to get in the black, meaning their valuations may be “more subjective and sensitive to evolving dynamics in the industry.”
Flies may be more vulnerable to climate change than bees are, according to a new study published in the Journal of Melittology. The fly haters among us might shrug at the finding, but the researchers insist flies are essential pollinators that help bolster ecosystem biodiversity and agriculture. “It’s time we gave flies some more recognition for their role as pollinators,” said lead author Margarita López-Uribe, who is the Lorenzo Langstroth Early Career Associate Professor of Entomology at Penn State. The study found bees can tolerate higher temperatures than flies, so flies are at greater risk of decline as global temperatures rise. “In alpine and subarctic environments, flies are the primary pollinator,” López-Uribe said. “This study shows us that we have entire regions that could lose their primary pollinator as the climate warms, which could be catastrophic for those ecosystems.”
“No one goes to the movies because they want to be scolded.” –Heatmap’s Jeva Lange writes about the challenges facing climate cinema, and why 2024 might be the year the climate movie grew up.
Whether you agree probably depends on how you define “climate movie” to begin with.
Climate change is the greatest story of our time — but our time doesn’t seem to invent many great stories about climate change. Maybe it’s due to the enormity and urgency of the subject matter: Climate is “important,” and therefore conscripted to the humorless realms of journalism and documentary. Or maybe it’s because of a misunderstanding on the part of producers and storytellers, rooted in an outdated belief that climate change still needs to be explained to an audience, when in reality they don’t need convincing. Maybe there’s just not a great way to have a character mention climate change and not have it feel super cringe.
Whatever the reason, between 2016 and 2020, less than 3% of film and TV scripts used climate-related keywords during their runtime, according to an analysis by media researchers at the University of Southern California. (The situation isn’t as bad in literature, where cli-fi has been going strong since at least 2013.) At least on the surface, this on-screen avoidance of climate change continued in 2024. One of the biggest movies of the summer, Twisters, had an extreme weather angle sitting right there, but its director, Lee Isaac Chung, went out of his way to ensure the film didn’t have a climate change “message.”
I have a slightly different take on the situation, though — that 2024 was actuallyfull of climate movies, and, I’d argue, that they’re getting much closer to the kinds of stories a climate-concerned individual should want on screen.
That’s because for the most part, when movies and TV shows have tackled the topic of climate change in the past, it’s been with the sort of “simplistic anger-stoking and pathos-wringing” that The New Yorker’s Richard Brody identified in 2022’s Don’t Look Up, the Adam McKay satire that became the primary touchpoint for scripted climate stories. At least it was kind of funny: More overt climate stories like last year’s Foe, starring Saoirse Ronan and Paul Mescal, and Extrapolations, the Apple TV+ show in which Meryl Streep voices a whale, are so self-righteous as to be unwatchable (not to mention, no fun).
But what if we widened our lens and weren’t so prescriptive? Then maybe Furiosa, this spring’s Mad Max prequel, becomes a climate change movie. The film is set during a “near future” ecological collapse, and it certainly makes you think about water scarcity and our overreliance on a finite extracted resource — but it also makes you think about how badass the Octoboss’ kite is. The same goes for Dune: Part Two, which made over $82 million in its opening weekend and is also a recognizable environmental allegory featuring some cool worms. Even Ghostbusters: Frozen Empire, a flop that most people have already memory-holed, revisitedThe Day After Tomorrow’s question of, “What if New York City got really, really, really cold?”
Two 2024 animated films with climate themes could even compete against each other at the Academy Awards next year. Dreamworks Animation’s The Wild Robot, one of the centerpiece films at this fall’s inaugural Climate Film Festival, is set in a world where sea levels have risen to submerge the Golden Gate Bridge, and it impresses on its audience the importance of protecting the natural world. And in Gints Zilbalodis’ Flow, one of my favorite films of the year, a cat must band together with other animals to survive a flood.
Flow also raises the question of whether a project can unintentionally be a climate movie. Zilbalodis told me that making a point about environmental catastrophe wasn’t his intention — “I can’t really start with the message, I have to start with the character,” he said — and to him, the water is a visual metaphor in an allegory about overcoming your fears.
But watching the movie in a year when more than a thousand people worldwide have died in floods, and with images of inundated towns in North Carolina still fresh in mind, it’s actually climate change itself that makes one watch Flow as a movie about climate change. (I’m not the only one with this interpretation, either: Zilbalodis told me he’d been asked by one young audience member if the flood depicted in his film is “the future.”)
Perhaps this is how we should also consider Chung’s comments about Twisters. While nobody in the film says the words “climate change” or “global warming,” the characters note that storms are becoming exceptional — “we've never seen tornadoes like this before,” one says. Despite the director’s stated intention not to make the movie “about” climate change, it becomes a climate movie by virtue of what its audiences have experienced in their own lives.
Still, there’s that niggling question: Do movies like these, which approach climate themes slant-wise, really count? To help me decide, I turned to Sam Read, the executive director of the Sustainable Entertainment Alliance, an advocacy consortium that encourages environmental awareness both on set and on screen. He told me that to qualify something as a “climate” movie or TV show, some research groups look to see if climate change exists in the world of the story or whether the characters acknowledge it. Other groups consider climate in tiers, such as whether a project has a climate premise, theme, or simply a moment.
The Sustainable Entertainment Alliance, however, has no hard rules. “We want to make sure that we support creatives in integrating these stories in whatever way works for them,” Read told me.
Read also confirmed my belief that there seemed to be an uptick in movies this year that were “not about climate change but still deal with things that feel very climate-related, like resource extraction.” There was even more progress on this front in television, he pointed out: True Detective: Night Country wove in themes of environmentalism, pollution, mining, and Indigenous stewardship; the Max comedy Hacks featured an episode about climate change this season; and Industry involved a storyline about taking a clean energy company public, with some of the characters even attending COP. Even Doctor Odyssey, a cruise ship medical drama that airs on USA, worked climate change into its script, albeit in ridiculous ways. (Also worth mentioning: The Netflix dating show Love is Blind cast Taylor Krause, who works on decarbonizing heavy industry at RMI.)
We can certainly do more. As many critics before me have written, it’s still important to draw a connection between things like environmental catastrophes and the real-world human causes of global warming. But the difference between something being “a climate movie” and propaganda — however true its message, or however well-intentioned — is thin. Besides, no one goes to the movies because they want to be scolded; we want to be moved and distracted and entertained.
I’ve done my fair share of complaining over the past few years about how climate storytelling needs to grow up. But lately I’ve been coming around to the idea that it’s not the words “climate change” appearing in a script that we need to be so focused on. As 2024’s slate of films has proven to me — or, perhaps, as this year’s extreme weather events have thrown into relief — there are climate movies everywhere.
Keep ‘em coming.
They might not be worried now, but Democrats made the same mistake earlier this year.
Permitting reform is dead in the 118th Congress.
It died earlier this week, although you could be forgiven for missing it. On Tuesday, bipartisan talks among lawmakers fell apart over a bid to rewrite parts of the National Environmental Policy Act. The changes — pushed for by Representative Bruce Westerman, chairman of the House Natural Resources Committee — would have made it harder for outside groups to sue to block energy projects under NEPA, a 1970 law that governs the country’s process for environmental decisionmaking.
When those talks died, they also killed a separate deal over permitting struck earlier this year between Senator Joe Manchin of West Virginia and Senator John Barrasso of Wyoming. That deal, as I detailed last week, would have loosened some federal rules around oil and gas drilling in exchange for a new, quasi-mandatory scheme to build huge amounts of long-distance transmission.
Rest in peace, I suppose. Even if lawmakers could not agree on NEPA changes, I think Republicans made a mistake by not moving forward with the Manchin-Barrasso deal. (I still believe that the standalone deal could have passed the Senate and the House if put to a vote.) At this point, I do not think we will see another shot at bipartisan permitting reform until at least late 2026, when the federal highway law will need fresh funding.
But it is difficult to get too upset about this failure because larger mistakes have since compounded the initial one. On Wednesday, Republican Speaker Mike Johnson’s bipartisan deal to fund the government — which is, after all, a much more fundamental task of governance than rewriting some federal permitting laws — fell apart, seemingly because Donald Trump and Elon Musk decided they didn’t like it. If I can indulge in the subjunctive for a moment: That breakdown might have likely killed any potential permitting deal, too. So even in a world where lawmakers somehow did strike a deal earlier this week, it might already be dead. (As I write this, the House GOP has reportedly reached a new deal to fund the government through March, which has weakened or removed provisions governing pharmacy benefit managers and limiting American investments in China.)
The facile reading of this situation is that Republicans now hold the advantage. The Trump administration will soon be able to implement some of the fossil fuel provisions in the Manchin-Barrasso deal through the administrative state. Trump will likely expand onshore and offshore drilling, will lease the government’s best acreage to oil and gas companies, and will approve as many liquified natural gas export terminals as possible. His administration will do so, however, without the enhanced legal protection that the deal would have provided — and while those protections are not a must-have, especially with a friendly Supreme Court, their absence will still allow environmental groups to try to run down the clock on some of Trump’s more ambitious initiatives.
Republicans believe that they will be able to get parts of permitting reform done in a partisan reconciliation bill next year. These efforts seem quite likely to run aground, at least as long as something like the current rules governing reconciliation bills hold. I have heard some crazy proposals on this topic — what if skipping a permitting fight somehow became a revenue-raiser for the federal government? — but even they do not touch the deep structure of NEPA in the way a bipartisan compromise could. As Westerman toldPolitico’s Josh Siegel: “We need 60 votes in the Senate to get real permitting reform … People are just going to have to come to an agreement on what permitting reform is.” In any case, Manchin and the Democrats already tried to reform the permitting system via a partisan reconciliation bill and found it essentially impossible.
Even if reconciliation fails, Republicans say, they will still be in a better negotiating position next year than this year because the party will control a few more Senate votes. But will they? The GOP will just have come off a difficult fight over tax reform. Twelve or 24 months from now, demands on the country’s electricity grid are likely to be higher than they are today, and the risk of blackouts will be higher than before. The lack of a robust transmission network will hinder the ability to build a massive new AI infrastructure, as some of Trump’s tech industry backers hope. But 12 or 24 months from now, too, Democrats — furious at Trump — are not going to be in a dealmaking mood, and Republicans have relatively few ways to bring them to the table.
In any case, savvy Republicans should have realized that it is important to get supply-side economic reforms done as early in a president’s four-year term as possible. Such changes take time to filter through the system and turn into real projects and real economic activity; passing the law as early as possible means that the president’s party can enjoy them and campaign on them.
All of it starts to seem more and more familiar. When Manchin and Barrasso unveiled their compromise earlier this year, Democrats didn’t act quickly on it. They felt confident that the window for a deal wouldn’t close — and they looked forward to a potential trifecta, when they would be able to get even more done (and reject some of Manchin’s fossil fuel-friendly compromises).
Democrats, I think, wound up regretting the cavalier attitude that they brought to permitting reform before Trump’s win. But now the GOP is acting the same way: It is rejecting compromises, believing that it will be able to strike a better deal on permitting issues during its forthcoming trifecta. That was a mistake when Democrats did it. I think it will be a mistake for Republicans, too.