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A conversation with former congressman Bob Inglis.
Bob Inglis was snorkeling in Australia’s Great Barrier reef in 2008 when he had what he called “an epiphany.’’
The then-Republican congressman from a very conservative district in South Carolina had scoffed at climate change throughout his two terms in the House, but his certainty had begun to give way four years earlier when his son told him, upon turning 18, that he needed to “clean up his act on the environment.’’
The comment stung. Inglis was still thinking about it in 2008 during a congressional trip to Antarctica, where he saw researchers extract ice cores that showed steadily rising levels of carbon dioxide since the Industrial Age began. His belief that climate change was a hoax began to weaken.
It was on another fact-finding trip that Inglis toured the Great Barrier Reef. Alongside the Australian oceanographer Scott Heron, he saw that the once-colorful reef was being bleached and killed by warmer, more acidic waters. It was visible proof of the destructive power of climate change.
Heron, a fellow Christian, talked about the need to save the reef and the planet with such passion, Inglis said, that “I could see that he was worshipping God in what he was showing me. My metamorphosis was complete. I decided that I was ready to act.’’
The next year, Inglis co-sponsored legislation to impose a tax on carbon emissions. That “heresy’’ did not go over well in his district, and he was crushed in the 2010 primary, 71% to 29%. (The bill, meanwhile, never made it out of committee.) “I knew that I was making the right choice,’’ he said. “It’s a choice that I’d make again.’’
His newfound commitment to addressing climate change led him to launch a nonprofit group, RepublicEn, devoted to bringing conservatives into the climate conversation. Today, Inglis tours the country, doing about 100 events a year at conservative groups such as College Republicans, Rotary Clubs, hunting and fishing clubs, and local GOP organizations.
The following interview has been edited for length and clarity.
You’ve talked about how, as a Republican congressman, you refused to accept climate change because the issue was associated with Al Gore, a Democrat. Do you think that what political scientists call “negative partisanship’’ is a major reason why conservatives still resist action on climate change?
Yes, it is. That’s why we need credible messengers who can speak the language of the tribe and who can make the tribe believe that conservative ideas can add something to this conversation. Conservatives have an undeserved inferiority complex on climate and energy. We understand the concepts of negative externalities and market distortion and accountability. Free enterprise — accountable free enterprise — can fix climate change.
You are referring to the libertarian concept of negative externalities, actions that negatively affect other people. Can you explain how it relates to carbon emissions?
When you burn fossil fuels, you’re basically dumping trash into the sky. You don’t pay a tipping fee for putting carbon waste into the atmosphere and contributing to climate change, so there is an implicit subsidy for burning these fuels and belching carbon — in fact, it’s the granddaddy of all energy subsidies.
Take that subsidy away and everything changes. Virtually all coal would be quickly replaced with natural gas and wind and solar and other methods. If you use a tax to set the real price of carbon, the free market will figure out cheaper and better ways to produce electricity. Things will start happening faster. You’ll see more development of hydrogen and better batteries that don’t use lithium to store the energy created by solar and wind. Climate change is an economic problem. Just fix the economics and innovation will happen. That’s the language of conservatism, and it’s how I talk to conservatives about it.
Why do you believe a carbon tax is the best way to bring Republicans aboard?
It is still the most obvious way to solve climate change, and the most efficient. This is an idea that goes back to Milton Friedman in the 1980s, when he said, instead of trying to regulate polluters, tax pollution. Make them pay for their negative externalities. You tax the trash they dump into the sky, just the way we impose a cost for dumping trash on land. It has to be a substantial tax, and it has to be steadily rising to increase incentives to find other forms of energy that don’t turn the sky into a dump for emissions. If you do that, you don’t need tax incentives for solar and wind — the rising cost of fossil fuels will provide all the incentives they need. But you also need to make this tax apply to other nations and the goods they import into the U.S.
How do you do that?
You can put a tax on the carbon produced in goods imported from China. Sen. Bill Cassidy [R-Louisiana] recently proposed a foreign pollution tax like the carbon border adjustment mechanism the European Union has already adopted. We very much welcome this idea because it’s a way of making the transition away from fossil fuels worldwide. Many Republicans say it’s not fair if the U.S. lowers emissions while China can do what it wants. The beauty of a foreign pollution fee is that it addresses this problem in an efficient way. It creates economic incentives for China to reduce its own emissions.
A carbon tax has been talked about for a long time but has gone nowhere in Congress. Do you see any evidence that it’s more politically palatable today?
I think a carbon tax is like the rescue of the banks after the financial crisis in 2008. Until the banks collapsed, bailing out the U.S. financial system seemed impossible. But when the consequences of not doing it became clear, the bailout went from impossible to inevitable without passing through probable.
Several catalyzing events could propel the carbon tax forward. The most likely is the momentum created by the European border adjustment mechanism, which is really a carbon tariff. Companies in the U.S. who deal with Europe are going to be calling their members of Congress and Senators and saying, wouldn’t you really rather collect that revenue for carbon emissions here at home through a carbon tax rather than sending the money to Europe? At some point, the light will go on at the U.S. Capitol — wow, the Europeans are getting a lot of revenue with a tariff on carbon, and we could do that, too. We could do that to China. We could say, the stuff you are selling here, you have to pay a carbon tariff.
Another momentum-maker is our federal debt. If interest rates stay high, interest will really start eating more and more of the federal budget. I have always said that a carbon tax should be revenue neutral, but given what’s happening to the deficit, it could also provide that revenue. Necessity may force Congress to turn to what used to seem impossible.
Could extreme weather provide another incentive?
Yes, there could be some catalyzing climate event that really focuses the mind. I don’t know what it will be. During the civil rights movement, when Americans saw segregated cities turn the police dogs and fire hoses on protestors, it really turned the tide on Jim Crow. We’ve had so much extreme weather that people are getting desensitized to it, but there still might be a catastrophic event that changes people’s priorities.
This year, we’ve already seen some of the most extreme weather and weather-related disasters in recent human history — massive wildfires that darkened skies across the country, relentless heat waves, fierce storms, and destructive flooding. Do you see evidence that this is registering with conservatives?
A lot of people won’t change their minds because of what a scientist says. But experience is different. Experience is a harsh teacher. You can’t argue with the thermometer. You can’t argue with the yardstick showing that sea is rising. You can’t argue with the water coming into your home. In 2010, when I was getting tossed out of Congress, there was a lot of aggressive disbelief in climate change. People told me, I don’t believe in climate change, and you shouldn’t, either.
Right now, it’s quite different. Conservatives say to me, sure, you can switch to clean energy here, but what difference does it make if you don’t get the rest of the world in on this? Why should we do this alone? That’s when I talk about negative externalities and a carbon tax, and imposing a carbon tariff on China and other countries. That changes their perspective.
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What do you say to The Wall Street Journal conservatives who concede that climate change is occurring but insist that it’s less disruptive and cheaper to invest in adaptation to a hotter, more extreme climate?
Adaptation is a defeatist argument. Good luck building a seawall in Miami-Dade, for example. As sea levels rise, the water there is coming up into streets through the porous bedrock under that area. In South Carolina, go to coastal areas and you’ll see the big stands of pine trees dying because of salt water intrusion. In Montana, the forests are now filled with dead and dying trees because bark beetles that used to die in the winter now survive and go on attacking the trees year-round.
Adaptation won’t work in many places where people are going to lose what they love. It won’t work in New England when maple trees no longer produce maple sap for syrup because the winters are too warm. It won’t work at ski resorts that no longer have snow. When you stop arguing and pay attention to what you’re losing, you start saying, wow, how do we fix this?
Polls show there is still a big partisan divide on climate change. Do you think that can change?
The problem is no longer a lack of information. People can see what is happening. The problem is a lack of validation, and it’s a lack of hope. We need validation from conservative leaders that climate change is obviously real, and that we obviously need to do something about it. And we need to show conservatives that the free enterprise system can provide solutions once we get the true cost of carbon right.
If you keep telling people about all the terrible things happening and that we’re all hosed, it’s depressing. It makes people say, I don’t want to work with you. But if you can come to conservatives and say, we can light the world with new energy sources, and we can have more energy and more freedom and more manufacturing and more jobs — we can have a better world if we act on this. We can have true energy independence, so we don’t need to depend on energy from authoritarian regimes who chop journalists up into pieces. I’d like to be free of those people. I’d like to able to say to the Saudis, we don’t need your oil. Why don’t you see if you can drink that stuff?
The current Republican presidential field is not validating that climate change needs to be addressed.
In the first debate Nikki Haley did say climate change is real, but immediately pivoted to talking about how China and India have to lower their emissions, too. That’s a step forward, but it’s not enough. In 2018, when Republicans lost the House, it dawned on then-Majority Leader Kevin McCarthy and some other Republicans that you can’t win suburban swing districts with a retro position on climate change. So McCarthy convened a special Republican conference on climate, and the takeaway was, we need to get with it.
Polling data shows a majority of young conservatives and young evangelicals want action on climate change, and if you want to win in 2024, 2028, and 2032, you need to have a plan that you can talk about. But then Trump decided to run again, and he’s doubling down on climate disputation, and everyone in the party is afraid of the Death Angel. Trump can’t get anyone elected, but if he comes after you, he can get you killed in a primary.
But even if Trump wins, he will be a lame duck by 2026, and then the party is going to ask, where do we go next? My prediction at that point is that Republicans will be tired of reruns of the Trump show and will want a fresh approach that can win over young voters and suburban voters. And if he loses in 2024, that’s when you’ll have the reevaluation.
You’ve said of climate change, “We’re all in this together.’’ That sounds progressive — maybe even vaguely socialistic. Does that message resonate with conservatives who are suspicious of collective action?
[Laughs.] Maybe I should examine that statement more closely. But as a person of faith, I think it is just obvious we are literally in this fight together.
I think you can summon all Americans to a higher cause. I think if we can assure conservatives, I’m not trying to cancel you, and you have ideas to contribute to this discussion about the power of economic incentives, free enterprise, and innovation. You have to make conservatives feel that they have something important to contribute.
You have to make them feel they have something to gain from the solutions. If you the United States makes a bold move on carbon taxes and tells China and other nations, you have to pay a carbon tariff on the stuff you export to us, then it becomes an international effort to curtail emissions. Then conservatives start saying, we’re really talking about realistic and fair solutions. That’s when you can say, we need to take action because we do not want to lose this amazingly beautiful planet. That’s when you can say to them, we’re really all in this together.
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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.