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Texas energy companies are betting hydrogen can become a cleaner fuel for transportation

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Monday, March 25, 2024

This is the first of a three-part series on emerging energy sources and Texas' role in developing them. Part two, on geothermal energy, publishes Tuesday, and part three, on small nuclear reactors, will publish on Wednesday. JEFFERSON COUNTY — A concrete platform with fading blue paint marks the birthplace of the modern oil and gas industry in southeast Texas. Weather-beaten signs describe how drillers tapped the Spindletop oil well in 1901, a discovery that launched petroleum giants Texaco, Mobil and Gulf Oil. Nearby, a red pipeline traces a neat path above flat, gravel-covered earth. French company Air Liquide started building this unassuming facility, with a wellhead and other machinery, on the iconic site in 2014 to store what it believes will be key to an energy revolution: hydrogen. The ground that once released millions of barrels of oil now holds some 4.5 billion cubic feet of highly pressurized hydrogen. The gas is contained in a skyscraper-shaped cavern that reaches about a mile below ground within a subterranean salt dome. Hydrogen promoters see the gas as a crucial part of addressing climate change. If it’s produced in a way that creates few or no greenhouse gas emissions, it could provide an eco-friendly fuel for cars, planes, 18-wheelers and ships, and could power energy-intensive industries such as steel manufacturing. Hydrogen emits only water when used as fuel. If companies can produce clean hydrogen at a price that’s competitive with gasoline or diesel, supporters say it would revolutionize the fuel industry. That’s a big if. Hydrogen is among the most common elements in the universe, but on Earth it’s typically found bonded with something else, such as carbon. Today, hydrogen is often obtained by isolating it from methane, a mix of carbon and hydrogen that is the main component of natural gas. This process leaves behind carbon dioxide, which worsens climate change if released into the air. Engineers say it’s possible to clean up that process by catching the extra carbon dioxide and reusing it — to get more oil out of a well, for example — or injecting it into the earth to store it. Another less polluting method is to split hydrogen from water, which is made up of hydrogen and oxygen, using electricity generated by wind, solar or nuclear power. Texas has emerged as a leader in producing hydrogen the cheaper way using abundant supplies of natural gas without capturing the carbon dioxide. Air Liquide makes hydrogen at facilities along the state’s coast, from Beaumont to Corpus Christi. More than 100 miles of pipelines move that hydrogen to companies that buy it for processes such as removing sulfur from crude oil. Little hydrogen is made from gas with carbon capture or from water in the state — or the rest of the country. Some academics, policy advisers and companies that make hydrogen say Texas and the Gulf Coast should be where hydrogen created with fewer emissions takes off. A majority of the country’s hydrogen pipelines are already here, Texas’ petrochemical workers have skills that easily transfer to hydrogen production — which involves chemical reactions — and the state has the natural gas and renewable energy needed to produce it. “We can be the breadbasket for not only the U.S. but for the world in providing hydrogen,” said Bryan Fisher, a managing director with RMI, a nonprofit that supports the clean energy transition. But producing enough hydrogen cheaply, building the pipelines to move it and the subterranean caverns to store it and finding the customers to buy it requires companies to take some financial risk. That effort is getting a boost from the federal government, which is offering billions of dollars’ worth of tax credits to kick-start production of hydrogen from gas with carbon capture or water. The government also plans to divide as much as $7 billion among seven regional clusters of projects to build hydrogen infrastructure, including up to $1.2 billion for projects in Texas and Louisiana that plan to make hydrogen largely from natural gas. Competing to break into the industry are traditional fossil fuel companies, including Chevron and ExxonMobil. Hydrogen advocates say interest by the oil giants is good because they have the money and expertise to tackle such an ambitious project. But environmental groups doubt that fossil fuel companies can make hydrogen from natural gas as cleanly as they say they can. They worry the federal funding will prop up oil and gas companies, when the emphasis should be on making hydrogen from water or creating clean power another way. “Producing hydrogen from natural gas is not clean, not low-carbon and cannot and should not be considered a solution in our efforts to solve the world’s worsening climate change crisis,” David Schlissel, the co-author of a report from the Institute for Energy, Economics and Financial Analysis, said in a webinar. Katie Ellet, left, president of hydrogen energy and mobility for Air Liquide, walks past Facility Manager Craig Allen at the company's hydrogen storage facility. Credit: Mark Felix for The Texas Tribune First: A worker monitors the hydrogen storage site. Last: Marked pipelines move hydrogen. Credit: Mark Felix for The Texas Tribune Sitting in a mobile office at the Spindletop site, Katie Ellet, president of hydrogen energy and mobility for Air Liquide, urged critics not to be so puritanical about hydrogen production. She described hydrogen as part of a centuries-long evolution toward progressively cleaner fuels: coal replaced wood, then oil replaced coal. Ellet believes now is hydrogen’s Spindletop moment. She believes the technology, economics and interest are in place to allow the industry to boom. “We transition through these different energy cycles,” Ellet said. “And we’ve gotten better. We’ve learned, and we’ve gotten better. This is us … evolving into that next generation.” Hydrogen hype grows in Texas One weekday in October, Brian Weeks, senior director of business development at GTI Energy, walked onto a Houston hotel’s conference room stage to discuss hydrogen. GTI Energy used to be known as the Gas Technology Institute and researched natural gas. Now it promotes low-carbon energy. Weeks faced a standing-room-only crowd at the Hydrogen North America event. He remembered when, maybe a decade earlier, only seven people at a conference showed up to hear him speak on the topic. People have predicted hydrogen was about to take off before. Weeks worked on the idea off and on since the late 1990s, when he was at Texaco and the company believed hydrogen could power cars. At the time, they worried energy prices would keep rising. Weeks recalled it as a heady time for hydrogen, with actors from the hit TV series Baywatch starring in promotional videos. But hydrogen didn’t catch. Technology for producing it remained expensive, while oil production instead got a giant boost. Hydraulic fracturing technology allowed the United States to rapidly increase how much oil it produced. Still, Weeks wouldn’t have spent so much of his life on hydrogen if he didn’t believe it had a future, he said. Like Ellet, he said the circumstances feel different now. That’s in large part because of the federal government’s big investment: By 2030, the Biden administration wants America to produce 10 million metric tons per year of hydrogen made from water using renewable energy or from gas using carbon storage — about how much is produced now largely from gas without carbon capture. “It’s been a roller coaster, really, for the last at least 20 years,” Weeks said in an interview. Over the past few years, Weeks has helped a coalition of businesses, researchers and others apply for the federal funding earmarked in the 2021 Infrastructure Investment and Jobs Act for regional hydrogen projects, called “hydrogen hubs.” Nine projects centered in Houston sought money as a single hub, and on Oct. 13, the Department of Energy announced that they and six other applicants from across the country won. As part of the Houston group, Chevron wants to make low-carbon hydrogen and ammonia, which is used in fertilizer. ExxonMobil wants to build hydrogen pipelines and fueling stations for trucks. The Gulf Coast projects aimed to produce more than 1.8 million metric tons of hydrogen per year, more than any of the other winning hubs. Some 80% would be made from natural gas. Brett Perlman, CEO of the nonprofit Center for Houston’s Future, poses for a portrait at the Houstonian Hotel in Houston on March 24, 2024. Credit: Mark Felix for The Texas Tribune Local and state leaders are cheering on the industry’s growth. Brett Perlman, CEO of the nonprofit Center for Houston’s Future, supported the hydrogen hub effort. Perlman’s job is to consider Houston’s economy and what will happen to it as the world works to address climate change and wean itself off fossil fuels. Perlman wrestles with how to make Houston the low-carbon energy capital of the world. He speaks at conferences, too, to build the case that hydrogen should be part of maintaining the city’s success. “The energy transition is going to happen, and Houston will have a role,” Perlman said at his office. “The real question is can Houston be, continue to be, a leader?” Back at the same conference where Weeks spoke, Texas Public Utility Commissioner Lori Cobos, whose agency regulates the electricity industry, explained that because it has huge natural gas reserves and is a top producer of wind and solar energy, Texas is “uniquely positioned to be a national and global leader in hydrogen.” The easy path to selling hydrogen made in these new ways would be to start by converting places already using hydrogen for purposes such as making fertilizer, refining petroleum and treating metals. But even more environmental benefits would come if it could also be used in new applications, said John Hensley, vice president of markets and policy analysis for the industry advocacy group American Clean Power Association. Hydrogen believers envision the fuel could decarbonize industries that are considered hard to electrify. Hydrogen would power planes and trucks that heavy electric batteries would slow down. It would supply the high heat needed to make cement that electricity could not provide. The new federal tax incentives get hydrogen close, if not all the way, to being able to compete with fossil fuels on price, said Fisher of RMI. The government plans to pay up to $3 per kilogram of what it defines as clean hydrogen, such as that made from water, or up to $85 per metric ton of stored carbon dioxide that’s captured after making hydrogen from natural gas. With the subsidies, producing hydrogen from water would cost generally from $4 to $6 per kilogram, and producing it from natural gas would cost generally from $2 to $4, Fisher said. He stressed that it would depend on the specifics of the project. The government’s goal is to get the cost to $1 per kilogram for both types. Environmental groups and critics raise concerns  The hydrogen solution does not sound so promising to environmental groups, especially when it comes to making it from natural gas using carbon capture. A number of critics came together in a windowless Houston conference room of their own later in October to build the case to journalists that carbon capture in hydrogen production shouldn’t be seen as a way to address climate change but instead as a boost to the oil and gas industry. “This is not a transfer off of fossil fuel dependency,” said Jane Patton, campaign manager for U.S. fossil economy at the Center for International Environmental Law. “This is a perpetuation of fossil fuel dependency.” With money from the Rockefeller Family Fund, which has an initiative focused on slowing oil and gas production because it drives climate change, organizers brought in the big guns to tell the other side of the story. The day began with a speech from Bob Bullard, founding director of the Bullard Center for Environmental and Climate Justice at Texas Southern University, known by many as the father of environmental justice. Bullard has passionately told many versions of the same narrative. He pioneered his environmental justice work decades ago when he highlighted that the city of Houston primarily built its trash incinerators and landfills in Black neighborhoods. And he brought attention to one example after another of companies polluting poor communities of color rather than wealthy, white ones. Professor Robert Bullard, center, speaks at a roundtable event with Environmental Protection Agency Administrator Michael Regan at Texas Southern University in Houston on Nov. 18, 2021. Credit: Annie Mulligan for The Texas Tribune Now a member of the White House Environmental Justice Advisory Council, Bullard said he’s seen no proof that a build-out of hydrogen and carbon storage will be any better for local communities than the expansion of the petrochemical industry was over the past century, bringing more pollution than benefits to surrounding communities. He continued to call for a federal study to find out whether hydrogen production with carbon capture is safe for the people who live around it. “You’re asking the same people to sacrifice in the same way,” Bullard said at the event. “Can we trust the oil and gas industry to be truthful? I don’t have to write a book on that. We know the answer.” Schlissel, the director of resource planning analysis for the Institute for Energy, Economics and Financial Analysis, believes the government is using a badly built model to judge how clean hydrogen projects are when they’re evaluated for federal support. One problem is that the model inappropriately leaves out the fact that hydrogen pipelines could leak, Schlissel says. Hydrogen can react with the molecule that breaks down harmful methane in the atmosphere and make the methane last longer, contributing to climate change. Schlissel also says the model assumes companies can catch a lot of carbon dioxide — which he believes is totally unrealistic. While companies using carbon capture technology don’t typically publicize their capture rates, Schlissel and his colleagues dug up what they could and concluded that the technology was far short of where it needs to be. Speakers at the event also expressed little confidence in the Railroad Commission of Texas, which regulates the state’s oil and gas industry, to regulate hydrogen pipelines and underground storage. Commission Shift, a watchdog group that calls for reforming the Railroad Commission, says the agency has a poor track record when it comes to protecting Texans from explosions, leaks and other problems with wells and pipelines. In a statement, commission spokesperson Patty Ramon said the agency has "protected public safety and the environment for more than a century." The agency does pipeline inspections regularly and has exceeded Legislative performance goals, Ramon added. These advocates are up against wealthy, politically powerful companies that say making hydrogen from natural gas with carbon capture is a ready solution to start lowering how much carbon dioxide escapes into the atmosphere — even if it’s imperfect. “I find this polarization of seeking perfect at the expense of very good is problematic,” Chris Greig, a senior research scientist with the Andlinger Center for Energy and the Environment at Princeton University, said in an interview. “And, to be clear, the distrust (of oil and gas companies) is not unwarranted, right? There’s been some wrongs done,” Greig added. “But somehow we have to set that aside and find some sort of middle ground.” Disclosure: Exxon Mobil Corporation and Texas Southern University - Barbara Jordan-Mickey Leland School of Public Affairs have been financial supporters of The Texas Tribune, a nonprofit, nonpartisan news organization that is funded in part by donations from members, foundations and corporate sponsors. Financial supporters play no role in the Tribune's journalism. Find a complete list of them here. We can’t wait to welcome you to downtown Austin Sept. 5-7 for the 2024 Texas Tribune Festival! Join us at Texas’ breakout politics and policy event as we dig into the 2024 elections, state and national politics, the state of democracy, and so much more. When tickets go on sale this spring, Tribune members will save big. Donate to join or renew today.

Supporters say developing hydrogen as a fuel is critical to slowing climate change. Critics are concerned that producing it with fossil fuels will prop up the oil and gas industry.

This is the first of a three-part series on emerging energy sources and Texas' role in developing them. Part two, on geothermal energy, publishes Tuesday, and part three, on small nuclear reactors, will publish on Wednesday.

JEFFERSON COUNTY — A concrete platform with fading blue paint marks the birthplace of the modern oil and gas industry in southeast Texas. Weather-beaten signs describe how drillers tapped the Spindletop oil well in 1901, a discovery that launched petroleum giants Texaco, Mobil and Gulf Oil.

Nearby, a red pipeline traces a neat path above flat, gravel-covered earth. French company Air Liquide started building this unassuming facility, with a wellhead and other machinery, on the iconic site in 2014 to store what it believes will be key to an energy revolution: hydrogen.

The ground that once released millions of barrels of oil now holds some 4.5 billion cubic feet of highly pressurized hydrogen. The gas is contained in a skyscraper-shaped cavern that reaches about a mile below ground within a subterranean salt dome.

Hydrogen promoters see the gas as a crucial part of addressing climate change. If it’s produced in a way that creates few or no greenhouse gas emissions, it could provide an eco-friendly fuel for cars, planes, 18-wheelers and ships, and could power energy-intensive industries such as steel manufacturing. Hydrogen emits only water when used as fuel.

If companies can produce clean hydrogen at a price that’s competitive with gasoline or diesel, supporters say it would revolutionize the fuel industry.

That’s a big if.

Hydrogen is among the most common elements in the universe, but on Earth it’s typically found bonded with something else, such as carbon. Today, hydrogen is often obtained by isolating it from methane, a mix of carbon and hydrogen that is the main component of natural gas. This process leaves behind carbon dioxide, which worsens climate change if released into the air.

Engineers say it’s possible to clean up that process by catching the extra carbon dioxide and reusing it — to get more oil out of a well, for example — or injecting it into the earth to store it. Another less polluting method is to split hydrogen from water, which is made up of hydrogen and oxygen, using electricity generated by wind, solar or nuclear power.

Texas has emerged as a leader in producing hydrogen the cheaper way using abundant supplies of natural gas without capturing the carbon dioxide. Air Liquide makes hydrogen at facilities along the state’s coast, from Beaumont to Corpus Christi. More than 100 miles of pipelines move that hydrogen to companies that buy it for processes such as removing sulfur from crude oil.

Little hydrogen is made from gas with carbon capture or from water in the state — or the rest of the country.

Some academics, policy advisers and companies that make hydrogen say Texas and the Gulf Coast should be where hydrogen created with fewer emissions takes off. A majority of the country’s hydrogen pipelines are already here, Texas’ petrochemical workers have skills that easily transfer to hydrogen production — which involves chemical reactions — and the state has the natural gas and renewable energy needed to produce it.

“We can be the breadbasket for not only the U.S. but for the world in providing hydrogen,” said Bryan Fisher, a managing director with RMI, a nonprofit that supports the clean energy transition.

But producing enough hydrogen cheaply, building the pipelines to move it and the subterranean caverns to store it and finding the customers to buy it requires companies to take some financial risk.

That effort is getting a boost from the federal government, which is offering billions of dollars’ worth of tax credits to kick-start production of hydrogen from gas with carbon capture or water. The government also plans to divide as much as $7 billion among seven regional clusters of projects to build hydrogen infrastructure, including up to $1.2 billion for projects in Texas and Louisiana that plan to make hydrogen largely from natural gas.

Competing to break into the industry are traditional fossil fuel companies, including Chevron and ExxonMobil. Hydrogen advocates say interest by the oil giants is good because they have the money and expertise to tackle such an ambitious project.

But environmental groups doubt that fossil fuel companies can make hydrogen from natural gas as cleanly as they say they can. They worry the federal funding will prop up oil and gas companies, when the emphasis should be on making hydrogen from water or creating clean power another way.

“Producing hydrogen from natural gas is not clean, not low-carbon and cannot and should not be considered a solution in our efforts to solve the world’s worsening climate change crisis,” David Schlissel, the co-author of a report from the Institute for Energy, Economics and Financial Analysis, said in a webinar.

Katie Ellet, left, president of hydrogen energy and mobility for Air Liquide, walks past Facility Manager Craig Allen at the company's hydrogen storage facility. Credit: Mark Felix for The Texas Tribune
First: A worker monitors the hydrogen storage site. Last: Marked pipelines move hydrogen. Credit: Mark Felix for The Texas Tribune

Sitting in a mobile office at the Spindletop site, Katie Ellet, president of hydrogen energy and mobility for Air Liquide, urged critics not to be so puritanical about hydrogen production. She described hydrogen as part of a centuries-long evolution toward progressively cleaner fuels: coal replaced wood, then oil replaced coal.

Ellet believes now is hydrogen’s Spindletop moment. She believes the technology, economics and interest are in place to allow the industry to boom.

“We transition through these different energy cycles,” Ellet said. “And we’ve gotten better. We’ve learned, and we’ve gotten better. This is us … evolving into that next generation.”

Hydrogen hype grows in Texas

One weekday in October, Brian Weeks, senior director of business development at GTI Energy, walked onto a Houston hotel’s conference room stage to discuss hydrogen. GTI Energy used to be known as the Gas Technology Institute and researched natural gas. Now it promotes low-carbon energy.

Weeks faced a standing-room-only crowd at the Hydrogen North America event. He remembered when, maybe a decade earlier, only seven people at a conference showed up to hear him speak on the topic.

People have predicted hydrogen was about to take off before. Weeks worked on the idea off and on since the late 1990s, when he was at Texaco and the company believed hydrogen could power cars. At the time, they worried energy prices would keep rising. Weeks recalled it as a heady time for hydrogen, with actors from the hit TV series Baywatch starring in promotional videos.

But hydrogen didn’t catch. Technology for producing it remained expensive, while oil production instead got a giant boost. Hydraulic fracturing technology allowed the United States to rapidly increase how much oil it produced.

Still, Weeks wouldn’t have spent so much of his life on hydrogen if he didn’t believe it had a future, he said. Like Ellet, he said the circumstances feel different now. That’s in large part because of the federal government’s big investment: By 2030, the Biden administration wants America to produce 10 million metric tons per year of hydrogen made from water using renewable energy or from gas using carbon storage — about how much is produced now largely from gas without carbon capture.

“It’s been a roller coaster, really, for the last at least 20 years,” Weeks said in an interview.

Over the past few years, Weeks has helped a coalition of businesses, researchers and others apply for the federal funding earmarked in the 2021 Infrastructure Investment and Jobs Act for regional hydrogen projects, called “hydrogen hubs.”

Nine projects centered in Houston sought money as a single hub, and on Oct. 13, the Department of Energy announced that they and six other applicants from across the country won. As part of the Houston group, Chevron wants to make low-carbon hydrogen and ammonia, which is used in fertilizer. ExxonMobil wants to build hydrogen pipelines and fueling stations for trucks.

The Gulf Coast projects aimed to produce more than 1.8 million metric tons of hydrogen per year, more than any of the other winning hubs. Some 80% would be made from natural gas.

Brett Perlman, CEO of the nonprofit Center for Houston’s Future, poses for a portrait at the Houstonian Hotel in Houston on March 24, 2024. Credit: Mark Felix for The Texas Tribune

Local and state leaders are cheering on the industry’s growth. Brett Perlman, CEO of the nonprofit Center for Houston’s Future, supported the hydrogen hub effort. Perlman’s job is to consider Houston’s economy and what will happen to it as the world works to address climate change and wean itself off fossil fuels.

Perlman wrestles with how to make Houston the low-carbon energy capital of the world. He speaks at conferences, too, to build the case that hydrogen should be part of maintaining the city’s success.

“The energy transition is going to happen, and Houston will have a role,” Perlman said at his office. “The real question is can Houston be, continue to be, a leader?”

Back at the same conference where Weeks spoke, Texas Public Utility Commissioner Lori Cobos, whose agency regulates the electricity industry, explained that because it has huge natural gas reserves and is a top producer of wind and solar energy, Texas is “uniquely positioned to be a national and global leader in hydrogen.”

The easy path to selling hydrogen made in these new ways would be to start by converting places already using hydrogen for purposes such as making fertilizer, refining petroleum and treating metals. But even more environmental benefits would come if it could also be used in new applications, said John Hensley, vice president of markets and policy analysis for the industry advocacy group American Clean Power Association.

Hydrogen believers envision the fuel could decarbonize industries that are considered hard to electrify. Hydrogen would power planes and trucks that heavy electric batteries would slow down. It would supply the high heat needed to make cement that electricity could not provide.

The new federal tax incentives get hydrogen close, if not all the way, to being able to compete with fossil fuels on price, said Fisher of RMI. The government plans to pay up to $3 per kilogram of what it defines as clean hydrogen, such as that made from water, or up to $85 per metric ton of stored carbon dioxide that’s captured after making hydrogen from natural gas.

With the subsidies, producing hydrogen from water would cost generally from $4 to $6 per kilogram, and producing it from natural gas would cost generally from $2 to $4, Fisher said. He stressed that it would depend on the specifics of the project. The government’s goal is to get the cost to $1 per kilogram for both types.

Environmental groups and critics raise concerns 

The hydrogen solution does not sound so promising to environmental groups, especially when it comes to making it from natural gas using carbon capture. A number of critics came together in a windowless Houston conference room of their own later in October to build the case to journalists that carbon capture in hydrogen production shouldn’t be seen as a way to address climate change but instead as a boost to the oil and gas industry.

“This is not a transfer off of fossil fuel dependency,” said Jane Patton, campaign manager for U.S. fossil economy at the Center for International Environmental Law. “This is a perpetuation of fossil fuel dependency.”

With money from the Rockefeller Family Fund, which has an initiative focused on slowing oil and gas production because it drives climate change, organizers brought in the big guns to tell the other side of the story. The day began with a speech from Bob Bullard, founding director of the Bullard Center for Environmental and Climate Justice at Texas Southern University, known by many as the father of environmental justice.

Bullard has passionately told many versions of the same narrative. He pioneered his environmental justice work decades ago when he highlighted that the city of Houston primarily built its trash incinerators and landfills in Black neighborhoods. And he brought attention to one example after another of companies polluting poor communities of color rather than wealthy, white ones.

Professor Robert Bullard, center, speaks at a roundtable event with Environmental Protection Agency Administrator Michael Regan at Texas Southern University in Houston on Nov. 18, 2021. Credit: Annie Mulligan for The Texas Tribune

Now a member of the White House Environmental Justice Advisory Council, Bullard said he’s seen no proof that a build-out of hydrogen and carbon storage will be any better for local communities than the expansion of the petrochemical industry was over the past century, bringing more pollution than benefits to surrounding communities. He continued to call for a federal study to find out whether hydrogen production with carbon capture is safe for the people who live around it.

“You’re asking the same people to sacrifice in the same way,” Bullard said at the event. “Can we trust the oil and gas industry to be truthful? I don’t have to write a book on that. We know the answer.”

Schlissel, the director of resource planning analysis for the Institute for Energy, Economics and Financial Analysis, believes the government is using a badly built model to judge how clean hydrogen projects are when they’re evaluated for federal support.

One problem is that the model inappropriately leaves out the fact that hydrogen pipelines could leak, Schlissel says. Hydrogen can react with the molecule that breaks down harmful methane in the atmosphere and make the methane last longer, contributing to climate change.

Schlissel also says the model assumes companies can catch a lot of carbon dioxide — which he believes is totally unrealistic. While companies using carbon capture technology don’t typically publicize their capture rates, Schlissel and his colleagues dug up what they could and concluded that the technology was far short of where it needs to be.

Speakers at the event also expressed little confidence in the Railroad Commission of Texas, which regulates the state’s oil and gas industry, to regulate hydrogen pipelines and underground storage. Commission Shift, a watchdog group that calls for reforming the Railroad Commission, says the agency has a poor track record when it comes to protecting Texans from explosions, leaks and other problems with wells and pipelines.

In a statement, commission spokesperson Patty Ramon said the agency has "protected public safety and the environment for more than a century." The agency does pipeline inspections regularly and has exceeded Legislative performance goals, Ramon added.

These advocates are up against wealthy, politically powerful companies that say making hydrogen from natural gas with carbon capture is a ready solution to start lowering how much carbon dioxide escapes into the atmosphere — even if it’s imperfect.

“I find this polarization of seeking perfect at the expense of very good is problematic,” Chris Greig, a senior research scientist with the Andlinger Center for Energy and the Environment at Princeton University, said in an interview.

“And, to be clear, the distrust (of oil and gas companies) is not unwarranted, right? There’s been some wrongs done,” Greig added. “But somehow we have to set that aside and find some sort of middle ground.”

Disclosure: Exxon Mobil Corporation and Texas Southern University - Barbara Jordan-Mickey Leland School of Public Affairs have been financial supporters of The Texas Tribune, a nonprofit, nonpartisan news organization that is funded in part by donations from members, foundations and corporate sponsors. Financial supporters play no role in the Tribune's journalism. Find a complete list of them here.


We can’t wait to welcome you to downtown Austin Sept. 5-7 for the 2024 Texas Tribune Festival! Join us at Texas’ breakout politics and policy event as we dig into the 2024 elections, state and national politics, the state of democracy, and so much more. When tickets go on sale this spring, Tribune members will save big. Donate to join or renew today.

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Defying Climate Change: Yellowstone’s Lake Ice Isn’t Melting Like Others

According to recent research led by scientists from the University of Wyoming, the duration for which Yellowstone Lake remains ice-covered each year has remained constant...

Yellowstone Lake, North America’s largest high-elevation lake, freezes over completely in late December or early January and usually thaws in late May or early June. The period of ice cover has not changed in the last century, despite warming temperatures in the region. Credit: Lusha TronstadAccording to recent research led by scientists from the University of Wyoming, the duration for which Yellowstone Lake remains ice-covered each year has remained constant over the past century, even amidst rising regional temperatures.That is an unexpected finding, as most lakes around the world are experiencing shorter durations of ice cover, the scientists note in a new paper published in the journal Environmental Research Letters.“We show that contrary to expectation, the ice phenology of Yellowstone Lake has been uniquely resistant to climate change,” wrote the scientists, led by Lusha Tronstad, lead invertebrate zoologist with UW’s Wyoming Natural Diversity Database and Department of Zoology and Physiology, and Isabella Oleksy, a former UW postdoctoral researcher now on the University of Colorado-Boulder faculty. “The unchanging ice phenology of Yellowstone Lake stands in stark contrast to similar lakes in the Northern Hemisphere.” Other researchers involved in the study are from Utah State University, Colorado State University, and Colorado Mesa University.Geographic and Environmental ContextSituated at 7,733 feet above sea level in the heart of Yellowstone National Park, Yellowstone Lake is North America’s largest high-elevation lake, roughly 20 miles long and 14 miles wide with a surface area of 132 square miles. It freezes over completely in late December or early January and usually thaws in late May or early June.Records for the lake’s ice-off date have been recorded each year by Lake Village Ranger Station staff since 1927, and the ice-on date has been recorded since 1931. In addition to studying those records, the scientists analyzed climate data for the same period, 1927-2022, including air temperatures and precipitation. They also compared Yellowstone Lake’s data with seven similar lakes in northern Europe.The lack of long-term change in the duration of Yellowstone Lake’s ice cover was unexpected because the Yellowstone region has seen a warming climate, the researchers say. Since 1950, annual temperatures have increased by 1.8 degrees Fahrenheit throughout the greater Yellowstone ecosystem. The changes are particularly pronounced at the high elevation of Yellowstone Lake, where air temperatures increased by about 2.5 degrees Fahrenheit between 1980-2018.“Using local weather data, we found some evidence for increased summer, fall, and spring temperatures, primarily in the last three decades,” the scientists wrote about air temperatures at Yellowstone Lake. “Given the key role of air temperatures in driving ice formation and break-up, it is noteworthy that we did not find evidence for corresponding shifts in ice phenology.”The Role of Snow in Ice PhenologyWhy the apparent discrepancy?While it is possible that fall minimum temperatures — which are important in predicting ice formation — are not rising as quickly as overall temperature trends in the region, a more likely explanation is that increased snowfall at Yellowstone Lake has served as a buffer against warmer weather, the scientists say.Snow cover, particularly in spring, can delay ice break-up. Cumulative spring snow, which was strongly correlated with delayed ice-off dates, has nearly doubled over the last century at Yellowstone Lake, the research showed. In general, precipitation has increased in spring and fall there.That differs from the Upper Green River Basin to the south, where snowfall has declined or been relatively stable at high elevations.“Shifts in local precipitation, especially increases in fall and spring snow, appear to be buffering (Yellowstone Lake) ice phenology against warming temperatures,” the researchers wrote.But, the scientists are not sure how long this phenomenon will last, noting projections of continued warming and shifting precipitation regimes in the high Rocky Mountains.“Our results, paired with recent analyses of climate projections, suggest a ‘tipping point’ may be coming when ice phenology abruptly changes for Yellowstone Lake,” they wrote. “This tipping point will largely stem from the ongoing shift from snow- to rain-dominated precipitation regimes in the fall and spring.“… Increased spring rainfall has not yet caused a detectable long-term trend toward earlier ice break-up, potentially because of the counteracting effects of increased spring snow. As temperatures warm further, and fall and spring snowfall decreases, ice phenology may rapidly change on Yellowstone Lake.”If that happens, “there may be wide-ranging consequences for nutrient cycling, lake productivity, fisheries, and recreation,” the scientists concluded.Reference: “Despite a century of warming, increased snowfall has buffered the ice phenology of North America’s largest high-elevation lake against climate change” by Lusha Tronstad, Isabella Oleksy, Justin P. F. Pomeranz, Daniel Preston, Gordon Gianniny, Katrina Cook, Ana Holley, Phil Farnes, Todd Koel and Scott Hotaling, 8 April 2024, Environmental Research Letters.DOI: 10.1088/1748-9326/ad3bd1

UAW’s Latest Labor Victory Is a Huge Climate Win, Too

Angel Gomez, a second-shift underbody mechanic at the Volkswagen plant in Chattanooga, Tennessee, was on the line when United Auto Workers won the factory union election. “I heard hollering,” said Gomez, as the news broke through the shop floor on Thursday, April 18. “There were people who’d been trying to do this for fourteen years, they’ve been putting in the work through all these failed elections, and finally they got it. It was a good feeling.”Renee Berry, 58 years old and a veteran of those two failed elections, was even more ecstatic. Apologizing over and over again on the phone for being so emotional, she told me the ballot count was agonizingly slow: Yes, no, no, yes, yes. “I almost had an anxiety attack,” she said. “We put our blood sweat and tears in this plant.”The Volkswagen plant had become a litmus test for the South. After UAW’s union campaigns at the plant were defeated in 2014 and 2019, the popular adage was that labor just couldn’t win here. The country’s media outlets of record united to declare the south a resource pit, a place where labor goes to die. And it’s true that states here are right-to-work, where the power of unions is severely curtailed by legal barriers to organizing and wages overall are far lower than the national average. But as this election shows, the South is home to an energetic homegrown labor movement that’s patient and insistent in the face of a hostile political climate. That, combined with an injection of federal investment in renewable energy industry, is pushing the region towards a very different trajectory than the one imagined by conservative politicians who have opposed these developments.Corporations, and the incredibly wealthy people who run them, have become Republicans’ biggest donors, swaying even more moderate politicians into virulent anti-unionism. That’s trickled down to local politics in places like Chattanooga, where many people lacked unionized family members or much context for the what union membership might mean. “It was just a lot of people who are ambivalent, and just seemed like, I’m not sure, a lot of these guys, you really just needed to give them just a little bit of information, like a little bit of like, Hey, this is what could be possible,” said Zach Costello, a worker who was on the organizing committee. It was often easier to convince people like Berry, whose dad was a union steelworker: she knew it meant healthcare, a pension, higher wages, and job security. They and Gomez fanned the embers, despite Southern politicians over the past few decades doing their best to stamp the spark of the labor movement out.The Volkswagen plant is the first new auto industry union in the South in eighty years, and the only union plant owned by a foreign automaker. “In the nineties, governors began trying to entice foreign auto plants to come to the south,” said Stephen Silvia, a labor economist at American University. “They told auto producers that wages are lower, taxes are lower, land is cheaper, and we cultivate a nonunion environment.”It all began when Tennessee offered Nissan generous incentives to establish a plant in the community of Smyrna. Nissan became the first foothold in a wave of industry relocation to the South, and amongst the state’s owning class, a sign of incoming prosperity. “We’re all gonna be rich!” exclaimed the mayor of Smyrna at the time, according to an account in the Journal of Southern History. In 1989, UAW’s attempts to organize the Nissan plant lost by a two-one margin. The companies’ union-busting playbook—frightening ads that threatened the plant’s closure, captive audience meetings, rhetoric about losing jobs, and offers of competitive pay should the union lose—became the playbook for anti-union campaigns across the region ever since. As unions lost, the auto industry’s landscape tilted southwards, meaning that about half of auto workers now work in nonunion plants, which are mostly located in the Southeast. Before that time, nearly all autoworkers belonged to a union. Auto manufacturers located themselves in rural areas, often establishing racist hiring practices to keep solidarity out of the shop floor. Other industries trickled into the region, too—aviation, tech, chemical manufacturing, and paper products, just to name a few. All made their homes in various states where business came cheap and easy.Climate regulations and the Inflation Reduction Act’s generous incentives are now stimulating electric vehicle manufacturing. Despite the Biden administration’s pro-labor economic agenda, IRA funding—and thus billions of dollars in public and private investment—has largely gone to areas with low union density, spurring worries among auto workers that the EV shift could create a second tier of lower-paid, nonunion workers spearheading the transition to electric vehicles, working in dangerous conditions with flammable elements like lithium.In 2022, Volkswagen broke ground on EV production and assembly; the same year, the Mercedes plant in Tuscaloosa, Alabama—UAW’s next battle, organizers tell me—began manufacturing an electric SUV. In the most recent union contract between UAW and the Big Three automakers, General Motors and Stellantis agreed to allow joint-venture EV manufacturing plants under the union umbrella, and now, Tennessee may be the next step.Since the beginning conversations about reducing dependence on fossil fuels—a necessary transition that nonetheless could have deleterious impacts on workers across steel, coal, oil, auto, and building trades industries—workers have demanded a “just transition”: an energy transition that prevents as much of the workforce as possible from being dislocated, allows for training and opportunity, and provides jobs equal to or better than the ones that came before. Environmental organizations have taken up the demand, too, seeing that a united front for labor rights and environmental justice is more powerful than keeping the two at loggerheads, as right-wing politicians might prefer. A just transition is what workers in the South are demanding as the IRA funds flood in.“We’re seeing a bunch of EV manufacturers come here,” said Michael Adriaanse, “and they should be union.” Adriaanse organizes with the Blue Oval Good Neighbors Committee. In rural, working class Black communities in west Tennessee, this labor and community coalition is mobilizing to bargain with Blue Oval City, a Ford joint venture electric vehicle plant that’s the recipient of the largest public investment the state of Tennessee has ever made, with an added $9.2 billion in funding from the Department of Energy. The VW victory has given workers hope for their efforts to negotiate good jobs and community benefits with the EV industry, he added. But it’s going to be hard won.“Anti-union sentiment across the country is virulent, and laws across the country don’t support unionization,” said Vonda McDaniel, who serves as a part of the Blue Oval coalition and is president of the Middle Tennessee Central Labor Council. Lawmakers in Tennessee, Georgia, and Alabama passed bills just this year and last year barring state incentives to companies that voluntarily recognize unions. In 2022, Tennessee enshrined right-to-work into its constitution. The prospect of this election had Southern governors running scared, so much so that the governors of Tennessee, Texas, South Carolina, Alabama, and Georgia wrote a joint public condemnation of the union drive. In Alabama, which boasts the seventh highest poverty rate in the country, Governor Kay Ivey lambasted UAW, saying that “the Alabama model for economic success is under attack.” Research has shown that any economic growth in right-to-work states tends to benefit the already wealthy. In its previous attempts to organize Volkswagen, the UAW attempted a top-down strategy, where they tried to simply persuade Volkswagen to recognize the union. The UAW employed a different strategy this time, a bottom-up strategy that truly involved deep organizing in the plant. “This has to be personal, person to person, door to door,” McDaniel said.The simple power of conversations worked for Zach Costello, who found that once people started talking about their conditions, they started flipping themselves more than he really flipped them, often across partisan lines. “You really saw a lot of people you would expect, because of their political leanings, to not really be pro-union,” he said. “But people are ready to throw out culture war crap, when they’re talking about real things that affect them.”McDaniel now hopes national unions—many of which have been wary of investing resources in the region—see the success of this strategy. Currently, state-level politics in the South mean many unions tend to write it off, refusing to engage their resources in what they have seen as a losing battle.Outside the automotive industry, other regional rank-and-file workers and labor organizers see these victories reinvigorating their own long-term struggles for economic and racial justice. While Tennessee is still ranked thirteenth lowest state for union representation, its union membership is the fastest-growing in the country, across all job sectors. UAW’s changing strategy and priorities certainly made the win possible, but so, too, did the genuine exuberance and support of the statewide and Southern labor movement, which has been chipping away at poor working conditions, workplace inequality, and depressed wages for two hundred years—through the end of slavery, through miners’ rebellions and textile strikes, through Black sharecroppers’ uprisings, and the Memphis garbage collectors’ strike that saw Martin Luther King’s final speech. Workers in Tennessee say they’ve been working for this kind of breakthrough.“Something feels different in Tennessee,” said Bobbi Lyn Negrón, a public school teacher and member of the Metropolitan Nashville Educators Association, which won a fight against school privatization only this week. “But we still have workers across the South that have been resisting.” Negrón listed a few fights off the top of her head: Memphis fragrance factory workers who’ve been on strike; an active campus workers’ union in the eastern part of the state that’s won repeated graduate stipend raises. Amid a dispiritingly anti-labor state political climate, this feels like a moment of true possibility. “We have a saying in Spanish, ‘like candela’,” Negrón said, “meaning the fire in us is going to ignite.”

Angel Gomez, a second-shift underbody mechanic at the Volkswagen plant in Chattanooga, Tennessee, was on the line when United Auto Workers won the factory union election. “I heard hollering,” said Gomez, as the news broke through the shop floor on Thursday, April 18. “There were people who’d been trying to do this for fourteen years, they’ve been putting in the work through all these failed elections, and finally they got it. It was a good feeling.”Renee Berry, 58 years old and a veteran of those two failed elections, was even more ecstatic. Apologizing over and over again on the phone for being so emotional, she told me the ballot count was agonizingly slow: Yes, no, no, yes, yes. “I almost had an anxiety attack,” she said. “We put our blood sweat and tears in this plant.”The Volkswagen plant had become a litmus test for the South. After UAW’s union campaigns at the plant were defeated in 2014 and 2019, the popular adage was that labor just couldn’t win here. The country’s media outlets of record united to declare the south a resource pit, a place where labor goes to die. And it’s true that states here are right-to-work, where the power of unions is severely curtailed by legal barriers to organizing and wages overall are far lower than the national average. But as this election shows, the South is home to an energetic homegrown labor movement that’s patient and insistent in the face of a hostile political climate. That, combined with an injection of federal investment in renewable energy industry, is pushing the region towards a very different trajectory than the one imagined by conservative politicians who have opposed these developments.Corporations, and the incredibly wealthy people who run them, have become Republicans’ biggest donors, swaying even more moderate politicians into virulent anti-unionism. That’s trickled down to local politics in places like Chattanooga, where many people lacked unionized family members or much context for the what union membership might mean. “It was just a lot of people who are ambivalent, and just seemed like, I’m not sure, a lot of these guys, you really just needed to give them just a little bit of information, like a little bit of like, Hey, this is what could be possible,” said Zach Costello, a worker who was on the organizing committee. It was often easier to convince people like Berry, whose dad was a union steelworker: she knew it meant healthcare, a pension, higher wages, and job security. They and Gomez fanned the embers, despite Southern politicians over the past few decades doing their best to stamp the spark of the labor movement out.The Volkswagen plant is the first new auto industry union in the South in eighty years, and the only union plant owned by a foreign automaker. “In the nineties, governors began trying to entice foreign auto plants to come to the south,” said Stephen Silvia, a labor economist at American University. “They told auto producers that wages are lower, taxes are lower, land is cheaper, and we cultivate a nonunion environment.”It all began when Tennessee offered Nissan generous incentives to establish a plant in the community of Smyrna. Nissan became the first foothold in a wave of industry relocation to the South, and amongst the state’s owning class, a sign of incoming prosperity. “We’re all gonna be rich!” exclaimed the mayor of Smyrna at the time, according to an account in the Journal of Southern History. In 1989, UAW’s attempts to organize the Nissan plant lost by a two-one margin. The companies’ union-busting playbook—frightening ads that threatened the plant’s closure, captive audience meetings, rhetoric about losing jobs, and offers of competitive pay should the union lose—became the playbook for anti-union campaigns across the region ever since. As unions lost, the auto industry’s landscape tilted southwards, meaning that about half of auto workers now work in nonunion plants, which are mostly located in the Southeast. Before that time, nearly all autoworkers belonged to a union. Auto manufacturers located themselves in rural areas, often establishing racist hiring practices to keep solidarity out of the shop floor. Other industries trickled into the region, too—aviation, tech, chemical manufacturing, and paper products, just to name a few. All made their homes in various states where business came cheap and easy.Climate regulations and the Inflation Reduction Act’s generous incentives are now stimulating electric vehicle manufacturing. Despite the Biden administration’s pro-labor economic agenda, IRA funding—and thus billions of dollars in public and private investment—has largely gone to areas with low union density, spurring worries among auto workers that the EV shift could create a second tier of lower-paid, nonunion workers spearheading the transition to electric vehicles, working in dangerous conditions with flammable elements like lithium.In 2022, Volkswagen broke ground on EV production and assembly; the same year, the Mercedes plant in Tuscaloosa, Alabama—UAW’s next battle, organizers tell me—began manufacturing an electric SUV. In the most recent union contract between UAW and the Big Three automakers, General Motors and Stellantis agreed to allow joint-venture EV manufacturing plants under the union umbrella, and now, Tennessee may be the next step.Since the beginning conversations about reducing dependence on fossil fuels—a necessary transition that nonetheless could have deleterious impacts on workers across steel, coal, oil, auto, and building trades industries—workers have demanded a “just transition”: an energy transition that prevents as much of the workforce as possible from being dislocated, allows for training and opportunity, and provides jobs equal to or better than the ones that came before. Environmental organizations have taken up the demand, too, seeing that a united front for labor rights and environmental justice is more powerful than keeping the two at loggerheads, as right-wing politicians might prefer. A just transition is what workers in the South are demanding as the IRA funds flood in.“We’re seeing a bunch of EV manufacturers come here,” said Michael Adriaanse, “and they should be union.” Adriaanse organizes with the Blue Oval Good Neighbors Committee. In rural, working class Black communities in west Tennessee, this labor and community coalition is mobilizing to bargain with Blue Oval City, a Ford joint venture electric vehicle plant that’s the recipient of the largest public investment the state of Tennessee has ever made, with an added $9.2 billion in funding from the Department of Energy. The VW victory has given workers hope for their efforts to negotiate good jobs and community benefits with the EV industry, he added. But it’s going to be hard won.“Anti-union sentiment across the country is virulent, and laws across the country don’t support unionization,” said Vonda McDaniel, who serves as a part of the Blue Oval coalition and is president of the Middle Tennessee Central Labor Council. Lawmakers in Tennessee, Georgia, and Alabama passed bills just this year and last year barring state incentives to companies that voluntarily recognize unions. In 2022, Tennessee enshrined right-to-work into its constitution. The prospect of this election had Southern governors running scared, so much so that the governors of Tennessee, Texas, South Carolina, Alabama, and Georgia wrote a joint public condemnation of the union drive. In Alabama, which boasts the seventh highest poverty rate in the country, Governor Kay Ivey lambasted UAW, saying that “the Alabama model for economic success is under attack.” Research has shown that any economic growth in right-to-work states tends to benefit the already wealthy. In its previous attempts to organize Volkswagen, the UAW attempted a top-down strategy, where they tried to simply persuade Volkswagen to recognize the union. The UAW employed a different strategy this time, a bottom-up strategy that truly involved deep organizing in the plant. “This has to be personal, person to person, door to door,” McDaniel said.The simple power of conversations worked for Zach Costello, who found that once people started talking about their conditions, they started flipping themselves more than he really flipped them, often across partisan lines. “You really saw a lot of people you would expect, because of their political leanings, to not really be pro-union,” he said. “But people are ready to throw out culture war crap, when they’re talking about real things that affect them.”McDaniel now hopes national unions—many of which have been wary of investing resources in the region—see the success of this strategy. Currently, state-level politics in the South mean many unions tend to write it off, refusing to engage their resources in what they have seen as a losing battle.Outside the automotive industry, other regional rank-and-file workers and labor organizers see these victories reinvigorating their own long-term struggles for economic and racial justice. While Tennessee is still ranked thirteenth lowest state for union representation, its union membership is the fastest-growing in the country, across all job sectors. UAW’s changing strategy and priorities certainly made the win possible, but so, too, did the genuine exuberance and support of the statewide and Southern labor movement, which has been chipping away at poor working conditions, workplace inequality, and depressed wages for two hundred years—through the end of slavery, through miners’ rebellions and textile strikes, through Black sharecroppers’ uprisings, and the Memphis garbage collectors’ strike that saw Martin Luther King’s final speech. Workers in Tennessee say they’ve been working for this kind of breakthrough.“Something feels different in Tennessee,” said Bobbi Lyn Negrón, a public school teacher and member of the Metropolitan Nashville Educators Association, which won a fight against school privatization only this week. “But we still have workers across the South that have been resisting.” Negrón listed a few fights off the top of her head: Memphis fragrance factory workers who’ve been on strike; an active campus workers’ union in the eastern part of the state that’s won repeated graduate stipend raises. Amid a dispiritingly anti-labor state political climate, this feels like a moment of true possibility. “We have a saying in Spanish, ‘like candela’,” Negrón said, “meaning the fire in us is going to ignite.”

Congress Ponders Competing Bills to Aid Tribes and Wildlife

This story was originally published by High Country News and is reproduced here as part of the Climate Desk collaboration. Nine years ago, Glenn Olson joined a panel whose members, in ordinary circumstances, would rarely appear in the same room together—let alone work as a collaborative team. Olson, chair of bird conservation and public policy at the National Audubon […]

This story was originally published by High Country News and is reproduced here as part of the Climate Desk collaboration. Nine years ago, Glenn Olson joined a panel whose members, in ordinary circumstances, would rarely appear in the same room together—let alone work as a collaborative team. Olson, chair of bird conservation and public policy at the National Audubon Society, sat with executives from Shell Oil, Toyota Motors, and the National Rifle Association, as well as with sportsmen, scientists and former government officials. The panel’s stated goal was to design a new system of funding conservation, one that would ensure the long-term flourishing of the nation’s wildlife. State and territorial wildlife agencies currently receive most of their funding from hunting and fishing fees and equipment purchases. This revenue is prioritized for game species, while non-game species have to rely on the approximately $60 million agencies receive from the federal budget every year—an amount that, once divided among more than 50 agencies, forces many state and tribal wildlife managers to pick and choose which species to protect. If annual funding was increased to $1.3 billion, Olson’s panel reported, those agencies could reach thousands more “species in greatest conservation need,” restoring some populations before they become endangered. The America’s Wildlife Habitat Conservation Act includes $300 million for local wildlife agencies and $20 million for tribes every year for five years. The panel laid the groundwork for what is now known as the Recovering America’s Wildlife Act. If passed, RAWA would secure an annual $1.3 billion for wildlife agencies and $97.5 million for conservation work by tribal nations. Since it was first introduced in 2021, RAWA has been backed not only by environmental groups but by corporations hoping to avoid the costs associated with federal endangered species regulations. In a polarized Congress, the bill has earned unusually broad bipartisan support. “We got to the point where we just got more and more co-sponsors,” Olson said. “Everybody came together and said, ‘This looks like a durable solution.’” This year, RAWA is poised for another vote on the Senate floor. The bill continues to gain co-sponsors on both sides of the aisle, but lawmakers have yet to settle on a funding source. Now, a new conservation bill may compete for supporters, particularly among Republicans. Last week, the America’s Wildlife Habitat Conservation Act (AWHCA) cleared the House Committee on Natural Resources with a 21-17 vote along party lines. The new bill seeks $300 million for local wildlife agencies and $20 million for tribes every year for five years. These funds would be “subject to appropriation” by Congress, however, meaning the full amount may not be granted each year. And to offset this spending, the bill would rescind $700 million of the federal funding appropriated to the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration through the Inflation Reduction Act. (NOAA plans to use most of its funding from the federal investment for coastal resilience and conservation projects.) The $320 million was the amount the bill’s authors felt comfortable offsetting, said an aide to the House Committee on Natural Resources. Regarding the rescission, the aide said that the committee looked at departments that had received funding from the Inflation Reduction Act but had yet to spend it. The bill, sponsored by Rep. Bruce Westerman (R-AR), chairman of the House Committee on Natural Resources, would also amend the Endangered Species Act, enabling states to submit their own recovery plans for threatened species to the US Fish and Wildlife Service. In some cases, the agency would be required to establish “objective, incremental goals” for recovery, with regulations becoming less stringent as those goals are met. The bill would also limit the agency’s ability to designate critical habitat on private lands and remove the requirement that federal agencies update their land-management plans every time a new species is listed or new critical habitat is designated. Supporters of Westerman’s bill say the proposed funding mechanism appeals to fiscally conservative Republicans, and they argue that the amendments to the Endangered Species Act would encourage private landowners and government agencies to collaborate on species recovery. Environmental advocates, however, say the bill is riddled with dealbreakers. RAWA supporters contend that the five-year sunset provision would limit what agencies can accomplish and even who they can hire. In contrast, RAWA would provide the baseline funding necessary for long-term environmental projects, such as forest restoration. Many supporters also worry that the proposed changes to the Endangered Species Act will weaken species conservation plans. As the new bill left the committee, Rep. Jared Huffman, (D-CA), lamented the loss of the “gold standard” embodied in RAWA.  “We still need base funding for tribes, and RAWA has been the most promising avenue for that.” When it comes to tribal-led conservation, RAWA offers multiple benefits that are not reflected in the new bill. For one, it would provide almost five times the amount of funding—a critical difference, since that money would be distributed across more than 574 federally recognized tribes and over 100 million acres of land. For another, RAWA drops any matching requirement for tribes, relieving them of the obligation to constantly reapply for more grants. Tribes are already undertaking significant conservation work, said Julie Thorstenson, executive director of the Native American Fish and Wildlife Society, citing historical and ongoing contributions to the recovery of bison, salmon and the black-footed ferret. The amount of annual funding proposed by RAWA would allow them to expand the scope of their work and take on a more active role in national conversations, rather than dividing their budget between conferences with partners and action on the ground. “We still need base funding for tribes, and RAWA has been the most promising avenue for that,” Thorstenson said. Mike Leahy, senior director of wildlife, hunting and fishing policy at the National Wildlife Federation, said that the annual funding requested by RAWA is the minimum—not an inflated estimate—of what is needed to protect over 12,000 at-risk species nationwide. While acknowledging Rep. Westerman’s intentions, Leahy pointed out the bill has a major “political problem,” given that most Democrats firmly oppose rescinding any money from the Inflation Reduction Act. Meanwhile, RAWA faces its own challenges: Its sponsors still have yet to agree on a source of funds for the billion-dollar plan, though many ideas have been proposed. Previous iterations of the bill sought funding from oil and gas leases, taxes on cryptocurrency and fees paid by polluters. Like Leahy, Olson applauded the new bill’s willingness to dramatically increase funding for conservation.  But it lacks the widespread support that has fueled RAWA for nearly a decade, and, as Olson pointed out, “In order to be durable, it almost has to be bipartisan.”

3 policy-aligned progressives vie to replace U.S. Rep. Earl Blumenauer in 3rd Congressional District

The winner of the May 21 Democratic primary is likely to cruise to victory in November, as registered Democrats outnumber Republicans in the district by more than 3-to-1.

The trio of progressive Portland-area Democrats leading the race to succeed U.S. Rep. Earl Blumenauer in Congress are barely distinguishable from each other when it comes to policy positions.But each of the candidates say they have a track record and leadership style that best qualify them to replace Blumenauer, an influential lawmaker who climbed to significant influence during his nearly 30 years in the U.S. House. All three are current or former elected officeholders with experience representing parts of Oregon’s 3rd Congressional District, which stretches from the Willamette River to Hood River.Eddy Morales, a Gresham city councilor and former Washington D.C.-based organizer, is emphasizing his plans to build affordable housing and overhaul the U.S. immigration system. Former Multnomah County Commissioner and corporate lawyer Susheela Jayapal says she’ll seek more federal investment for housing, homelessness services and climate change. State Rep. Maxine Dexter, a medical doctor whose district includes the west side of Portland, is calling for health care reforms as well as investment in housing, homelessness and clean energy.It’s likely the winner of the May 21 Democratic primary will cruise to election in November. Registered Democrats outnumber registered Republicans in the district more than 3-to-1.The seat is open for the first time in a generation after Blumenauer, 75, announced his retirement last spring. He handily won reelection 13 times after his first successful campaign in 1996.If elected, the three front-runners all said they would join the Congressional Progressive Caucus, which is chaired by Jayapal’s sister, U.S. Rep. Pramila Jayapal of Washington.They also share support for the Green New Deal, reproductive rights and Medicaid for All, although Dexter says smaller reforms are first needed to pave the way for single-payer health care. So far, the candidates have found common ground in polite debates.But they say differing personal, professional and electoral track records set them apart in important ways.Dexter, 51, was raised in a working-class family in Washington state. She is a practicing critical care physician and pulmonologist in Kaiser Permanente hospitals and is in her second full term in the Oregon House. She is supported by Democratic state lawmakers, the American Medical Association and gun control advocacy groups.As the chair of the House Committee on Housing and Homelessness, Dexter helped pass major investments in affordable housing and rental assistance championed by Gov. Tina Kotek. She has also sponsored legislation that ramped up the distribution of a life-saving opioid overdose reversal medication and banned restaurants’ use of Styrofoam takeout containers.Jayapal, 61, was born in India and moved to the U.S. when she was 16 to attend college. She was general counsel for Adidas until 2000 and since served on a slew of nonprofit boards. She began representing Northeast Portland on the Multnomah County Commission in 2019.Jayapal pitches herself as a strong progressive and coalition-builder. As a county commissioner, she says she helped increase rent assistance for low-income families. She also pushed a program that helps residents replace wood stoves with climate-friendly heat pumps and enthusiastically supported the county’s $51 billion lawsuit against oil and gas companies over the deadly 2021 heat dome. Jayapal is endorsed by environmental groups, Multnomah County Commission Chair Jessica Vega Pederson and Vermont Sen. Bernie Sanders.Morales, 44, was raised in Woodburn and Portland by an immigrant mother from Mexico. A gay man, he could be Oregon’s first out LGBTQ member of Congress. In the 5th District, Jamie McLeod-Skinner, a lesbian, is one of two Democrats seeking the party’s nomination.Morales spent more than a decade organizing voters and says he helped generate key support for the Affordable Care Act and youth immigrant “dreamers.” A city councilor in Gresham since 2019, he touts the city’s development of affordable housing complexes and a program to reduce youth gun violence during his tenure. He is endorsed by a bevy of labor unions, the LGBTQ+ Victory Fund, Georgia voting rights advocate Stacey Abrams and nine state lawmakers.Campaign financeAs of March 30, the most recent data available, Jayapal had raised $611,000, the most of any candidate, federal records show. Morales had raised $494,000 and Dexter had pulled in $338,000. All three have raised funds from a mix of individual donors and liberal political committees, according to the nonprofit analysis site Open Secrets.Dexter, however, is buoyed by a notably mammoth $1.25 million from the 314 Action Fund, a political action committee that aims to elect progressives with backgrounds in science.No other committee is independently spending to support or oppose the other candidates, according to Open Secrets. Last year, some observers speculated that pro-Israel political groups would oppose Jayapal over her brief reluctance to condemn Hamas for the group’s Oct. 7 attack. Jayapal has since criticized Hamas while calling for a ceasefire amid Israel’s brutal response. Morales and Dexter offered similar statements this spring, and pro-Israel spending in the contest has not materialized.Sarah Bryner, director of research and strategy at Open Secrets, said spending could intensify as the primary approaches.Michael Jonas, a Portland attorney and owner of Rational Unicorn Legal Services, is also vying for the Democratic nomination. He has raised about $16,000 and touts endorsements from metro-area LGBTQ organizations, civic leaders and entrepreneurs. Other Democratic candidates are Ricardo Barajas, Nolan Bylenga and Rachel Lydia Rand.In the Republican primary, attorney Joanna Harbour has raised $6,000 in direct donations. A perennial candidate, she captured about a quarter of votes cast when running against Blumenauer in 2020 and 2022. Two other Republicans, Gary Dye and Teresa Orwig, are also running for the nomination.The 3rd District seat is up for grabs for the first time since 1996, when Blumenauer was first elected. He spent 28 years in the U.S. House and rose through the ranks to become a member of the influential Ways and Means committee, which writes tax bills and oversees government programs including Social Security and Medicare. He is a member of the Congressional Progressive Caucus.Any of the three front-runners would enter Congress with far less influence than Blumenauer. However, Jayapal said it’s “certainly possible” that constituents would benefit from her close relationship with her sister.“I think she can open doors for me. That is a reality,” she told The Oregonian/OregonLive.Susheela JayapalNakamuraEnvironmental championJayapal earned her law degree from the University of Chicago and worked for two decades as a financial analyst and corporate lawyer before stepping away from paid work to raise her children. Since 2000, she has held volunteer leadership roles at Planned Parenthood Columbia Willamette, the Oregon Community Foundation and other nonprofits.During her nearly five years on the Multnomah County Commission, Jayapal said, her influence was limited by the powerful role of the commission’s chair, who has wide latitude to steer the board’s agenda. She casts herself as a pragmatist who worked behind-the-scenes to fill funding gaps and help steer the county through the pandemic and intertwined crises of homelessness, behavioral health and addiction.Jayapal said she was an early proponent of long-term rental assistance, which can prevent residents from becoming homeless, and battled to pass a modest pay raise for employees at nonprofits that provide much of the county’s services for unhoused residents. She was a vocal critic of the Zenith Energy fossil fuel storage site in Northwest Portland and the use of leaded gasoline at Portland International Raceway.Jayapal has “real policy bonafides” and doesn’t mince words when advocating for climate action, said Damon Motz-Storey, director of the Oregon chapter of the Sierra Club, which endorsed her.“Those are the things that we look for in a climate leader,” they said.If elected, Jayapal said she would work to ramp up federal investment in affordable housing and rental assistance, which is often unavailable to residents because of high demand. Along with a Green New Deal and the establishment of a single-payer health care system, she calls for legislation to prevent deforestation and leaks of methane, a greenhouse gas responsible for 30% of global temperature rise.Maxine Dexter, a doctor in her second term in the Oregon House, says she would use her clinical experience as well as her successes building relationships in the state Legislature to increase her odds of accomplishing policy wins in Congress.Dave Killen / The OregonianData-driven doctorGrowing up, Dexter attended public schools and worked a unionized job in a grocery store. She graduated from the University of Washington’s medical school.She has worked as a doctor for more than 20 years. In 2020, she was appointed to fill a vacancy in the state Legislature. Dexter said her family currently lives slightly outside of the 3rd District but plans to move back in.Dexter said she has effectively pursued evidence-driven solutions to health policy, affordable housing and homelessness, climate change and other complex issues.“We can solve these problems if we have experts in the room,” she told The Oregonian/OregonLive editorial board.Dexter criticizes the role of for-profit companies in health care and recently sponsored a failed bill that would have limited the influence of private equity companies in owning medical practices or centers. In 2021, Dexter helped pass a law that directed the state health agency to study the creation of a public health insurance option serving more low-income Oregonians. That plan has come to fruition and will roll out in July.As chair of the House housing committee, Dexter advanced “some of the biggest housing reforms and housing investment packages this state has ever seen,” said former House Speaker Dan Rayfield, D-Corvallis, who endorsed her.If elected to Congress, Dexter would aim to simplify what she called an overly complicated health care system. She said her “ultimate goal” is advancing a single-payer health care system without causing “chaos” in the process. Dexter said she would also work to expand a federal low-income housing tax credit and seek federal funding for detox beds.Eddy Morales, a Gresham City Council member who spent about a decade working on political causes in Washington, D.C., said tragedies that left three of his siblings dead motivate him to fight to revise past policy failures.Mark Graves/The OregonianD.C., Oregon experienceOn the campaign trail, Morales stresses his family’s lived experience with policy failures. His two brothers died in gun violence and his sister died from opioid and alcohol addiction, he says.“These are the things that have really motivated me for the last 25 years,” Morales said.He touts his longtime work as an organizer for progressive causes. He has served as president of the Gresham City Council. Morales founded East County Rising, a political committee that works to engage voters in east Multnomah County, call attention to their priorities and promote candidates of color and other progressive candidates for local offices.He also served as treasurer of the Democratic Party of Oregon, including during the time when the party falsely reported its largest ever contribution, $500,000, came from a Nevada cryptocurrency funds processor instead of an executive at now-disgraced cryptocurrency firm FTX. Although Morales was not copied on the string of emails in which party officials agreed not to name the true donor, a state lawyer wrote that Morales “did not perform the necessary due diligence to confirm the accuracy of the contributor.”The state party returned the funds once criminal wrongdoing by FTX executives including Sam Bankman-Fried came to public attention, Morales noted. “I am glad he and his cronies have been found guilty and sentenced,” Morales said.Morales got his start advocating for farm workers as a student at the University of Oregon. Beginning with a stint as president of the United States Student Association, Morales was based for about a dozen years in Washington, D.C., a perch from which he advocated for the Affordable Care Act on behalf of the nonprofit Center for Community Change. He also mobilized Latino voters in the South and Southwest for The Democracy Alliance.“Eddy has a skill or a personality to motivate people, to engage people,” said Gresham City Councilor Dina DiNucci, who has endorsed his bid for Congress. He is also adept at building political alliances, she said.In Gresham, Morales helped advance two affordable housing complexes largely funded by Metro housing bonds: the 225-unit Rockwood Village and the 180-unit Wynne Watts Commons, which is billed as the largest net-zero energy, affordable housing complex in the region.As a member of Congress, Morales said he would work to fund multi-generational affordable housing and update first time homeownership grants that he says are outdated. He would also advance offshore wind development and work toward a comprehensive overhaul of the U.S. immigration system that reunites separated families and safeguards the asylum-seeking process, he said.-- Grant Stringer is a freelance journalist in Portland; stringer.grantj@gmail.com; @Stringerjourno

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