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Like It Or Not, a Hydrogen Ecosystem Is Coming to New Mexico

News Feed
Tuesday, May 21, 2024

Over the past month, in public meetings stretching from the Navajo Nation to Albuquerque, public officials and company representatives unveiled a picture of a new hydrogen energy industry being built in the northwest corner of New Mexico. The presentations reveal hydrogen production, transportation, power generation and carbon sequestration projects arcing across the Navajo Nation to Farmington and down to the I-40 corridor between Gallup and Albuquerque. Most of the projects are underway, and it’s clear they’ll rely on fossil fuels.   Tallgrass Energy sits at the center of all this activity and has the backing of the state’s biggest political player, New Mexico’s governor. The Denver-based company operates more than 7,000 miles of natural gas pipelines stretching from Oregon to Ohio, and it’s going all-in on creating the necessary pieces of a new economic base in New Mexico’s second-largest fossil fuel producing region. The region’s natural gas holds the key to many of the projects “Hydrogen is huge!” Gov. Michelle Lujan Grisham proclaimed while speaking at an event in Farmington in April. What came next is what many in the region fear. “Hydrogen uses the natural gas resources here we don’t know what to do with,” she said.  Actually, plenty of people know what to do with natural gas. The issue is that fewer and fewer people want to use it, even as more and more of it is being produced. Historically, natural gas has been used most significantly for electrical grid power generation in the U.S., but its use in that arena is declining as renewable energy prices drop in the face of government climate policies and ever-cheaper solar technology.  It takes more energy to make hydrogen than it provides when converted to useful energy.  Meanwhile, natural gas prices have tanked due to a production glut caused by ever-increasing oil production using hydraulic fracturing, or “fracking,” in places like the Permian Basin, shared between New Mexico and Texas. Producers want the oil, which brings a market price well above the cost of its production. But, pulled from the well, that fracked oil comes commingled with the less desired natural gas. Over the past month, natural gas prices dipped below zero at a main pipeline transit hub in Texas due to the glut. Some companies are storing gas underground, awaiting better days and prices. Enter hydrogen. The most plentiful element in the universe is a perfectly clean fuel when used to make electricity in a fuel cell. It’s generally cleaner than natural gas when burned to make heat, though the process produces nitrogen oxides that the EPA says damage the human respiratory system and contribute to acid rain.  The crux lies in how you make your hydrogen, which rarely exists on its own on earth. The cleanest, most energy-intensive way breaks water molecules into hydrogen and oxygen using renewable energy. The common way breaks off hydrogen atoms from the methane in natural gas. Either way, it takes more energy to make hydrogen than it provides when converted to useful energy. When made with natural gas, the process also produces a lot of climate-damaging carbon dioxide. That defeats hydrogen’s clean bonafides unless the carbon dioxide is captured and buried underground, a process that uses even more energy. Furthermore, the natural gas production and transportation process often leaks, sometimes a lot. That gas is mostly methane, which is 80 times more capable of warming the atmosphere than carbon dioxide in the first 20 years after it’s released.  The federal government incentivized so-called low-carbon hydrogen production from natural gas with carbon sequestration in the Inflation Reduction Act of 2022. Many worry that this will lead to increased greenhouse gas emissions in light of New Mexico’s rocky track record of policing its oil and gas producers. All of this means a fuel promoted to fight climate change could actually exacerbate it, and cost a lot, too. “How companies choose to produce that hydrogen will fundamentally be a business decision they must make,” said Michael Coleman, director of communications to Gov. Lujan Grisham. “Our greatest opportunity as a state is producing hydrogen from a range of feedstocks.” Gov. Lujan Grisham has stumped for hydrogen for years, with little support from the state’s Legislature or environmental groups. She also sought a multibillion-dollar grant from the federal government to create a multi-state hydrogen ecosystem centered in New Mexico’s San Juan Basin, but the feds snubbed it last October. Hydrogen investments face a bumpy road in other states as well.  Nonetheless, Lujan Grisham forges on — she went to the Netherlands last week to drum up more hydrogen investments. Meanwhile, testing and planning chug along, with Tallgrass linking many of the far-flung pieces together. “The governor is looking to attract all kinds of hydrogen businesses to New Mexico,” Coleman said. “Tallgrass’ proposal draws all of the attention because of its scale but is hardly the only initiative under way.”  The Navajo Nation has a 100-year history of outside companies coming in, making fortunes from Native resources and leaving environmental messes behind.   “One of the more notable misconceptions that we’ve struggled to overcome is the view that we are focused on a singular point-to-point hydrogen project,” said Steven Davidson, vice president of government and public affairs for Tallgrass Energy. He’s referring to a hydrogen pipeline being developed by GreenView, a Tallgrass subsidiary. “We are working to create a clean energy ecosystem in coordination with many other parties,” he said. One of those parties is the Four Corners Clean Energy Alliance, an advocacy group promoting hydrogen development and associated technologies in the region on behalf of GreenView and Tallgrass. One of the group’s board members is an executive at Tallgrass. Both the group’s interim director and director of communications also work for the Consumer Energy Alliance, an industry trade group sponsored in part by a who’s-who of fossil fuel energy producers. The Tallgrass ecosystem includes a carbon capture and sequestration project with New Mexico Tech. The university has been studying the geology of the San Juan Basin since 2020 with the goal of getting three sequestration wells operational in a few years. The project is in the middle of its federal permitting process and could be approved sometime next year. It also includes the Escalante coal-fired power plant retrofitted to burn hydrogen, along I-40 between Albuquerque and Gallup and the hydrogen pipeline linking Farmington to central Arizona and crossing the Navajo Nation, a controversial project still in the planning stages. It’s expected to include a hydrogen production facility or two in or near Farmington, with exact locations to be determined. And there’s more. At a San Juan County Commission meeting in April, the lead researcher on the carbon sequestration project pointed out that if the Escalante power plant is to reach its carbon-free objective, Tallgrass has to build another pipeline, this one for carbon dioxide, running from the Escalante power plant to the future carbon sequestration wells, roughly 100 miles to the north and crossing the eastern reaches of the Navajo Nation. Meanwhile, the hydrogen pipeline project has already drawn fire from Navajo opposed to further energy projects on the Nation. The tribe has a 100-year history of outside companies coming in, making fortunes from Native resources and leaving environmental messes behind.  “All the projects that have ever been on Navajo [Nation] made those companies a lot of money,” said Jessica Keetso, who is Diné and an organizer with Tó Nizhóní Ání or Sacred Water Speaks, a Navajo water rights and environmental protection group. Historically, she said, they don’t clean up after themselves. “They get away with not doing reclamation, for everything from oil and gas, uranium to coal,” she said.  “Will this really kickstart our economy, our Navajo Nation economy? I think that’s questionable. If 50 years of coal mining couldn’t do that, hydrogen is not going to do that.” ~ Jessica Keetso, organizer, Tó Nizhóní Ání  Many are also unhappy with how Tallgrass has gone about drumming up support from the tribe’s widely spaced, often-impoverished population.  At a meeting of the Navajo Nation Resources and Development Committee in Albuquerque in late April to discuss the hydrogen pipeline project, committee member Rickie Nez told Tallgrass representatives, “No more gift cards! No more gift cards! It makes you look like you’re bribing someone.”  GreenView representatives had been giving out gift cards to tribal members who attended chapter house meetings where the pipeline was discussed. (Chapter houses are the most local form of government on the Navajo Nation.) At some meetings, tribal members also voted on resolutions to allow the pipeline to cross their chapters. Davidson said the company came up with the idea “in consultation with respected cultural advisors from the Navajo Nation … to lessen the burden to the individual to encourage them to participate.” He said that the cards were for $25 to $50. He also heard that the cards “met with some concern about optics. We completely understand that point.” In addition, at the Resources and Development Committee meeting, Adam Schiche, whose online profile says he is the vice president for international business development at Tallgrass, said that GreenView representatives met with and paid individual grazing permit holders $500 for the possibility of working on land where livestock grazes. Davidson later said, “We have no qualms” in offering upfront payments, treating Navajo permit holders “exactly like landowners off the Nation.” He said further money would be given if the project goes forward. “Money talks. Money is persuading people, which is a very sad thing to see,” said Keetso. “The tactics are actually paying off for them because two months ago they didn’t have any resolutions.” For roughly two years, representatives from both Tó Nizhóní Ání and GreenView have made their cases for or against the pipeline and asked chapters to consider resolutions supporting or opposing it all along the proposed pipeline route. At the April Resources and Development Committee hearing, Schiche said that Tallgrass representatives had gathered resolutions in favor of the pipeline from five chapters. Tó Nizhóní Ání has gathered 15 against. Tallgrass’ main business is natural gas, and while the focus on hydrogen is touted as part of a climate change solution, it’s clearly connected to those fossil fuel operations. “We believe every practical option to decarbonize should be advanced — including the decarbonization of natural gas to make … hydrogen,” Davidson said. He sees hydrogen keeping the lights on, firing power plants when the sun goes down and the winds calm. “Hydrogen is a proven way to convert and store that clean electricity for when it’s needed,” he said. That’s the idea that ties natural gas to carbon sequestration, to the Escalante hydrogen-fired power plant 100 miles west of Albuquerque and to a 200-mile pipeline across the Navajo Nation to central Arizona. Powering the electric grid with expensive hydrogen isn’t universally popular. The Rocky Mountain Institute, a Colorado-based nonprofit that helps businesses and governments transition away from fossil fuels, promotes a common view for hydrogen’s best uses. “Fertilizer, oil refining and petrochemicals, steel manufacturing, and long-distance heavy-duty transport are no-regrets applications of hydrogen today,” they write. Hydrogen power plants aren’t what’s needed now. In the end, New Mexico’s discussion about hydrogen is about money. At the Resource and Development Committee meeting, Schiche told the group that $400,000 a year would be split among chapter houses along the pipeline route. In addition, the Nation could choose either a percentage stake in the pipeline company or annual payment for gas moving through the line.  “Will this really kickstart our economy, our Navajo Nation economy?” Keetso said later. “I think that’s questionable. If 50 years of coal mining couldn’t do that, hydrogen is not going to do that.” Long-term jobs are a perennial hope for any projects on the Nation, where unemployment runs high. Schiche said that there would be a lot of construction work while building the project, but “the pipeline itself doesn’t generate a lot of jobs.” He said those would be at two hydrogen production sites somewhere around Farmington — which is not on the reservation. Keetso calls on bigger groups to fight alongside Tó Nizhóní Ání against the hydrogen projects. She said, “I just wish big greens would get off the fence and say, ‘Hey, this hydrogen may be the solution for some things. But the way that this company is doing it is wrong.’” Copyright 2024 Capital & Main

Production, distribution, power generation, carbon capture all in the works: Questions, concerns, confusion abound. The post Like It Or Not, a Hydrogen Ecosystem Is Coming to New Mexico appeared first on .

Over the past month, in public meetings stretching from the Navajo Nation to Albuquerque, public officials and company representatives unveiled a picture of a new hydrogen energy industry being built in the northwest corner of New Mexico. The presentations reveal hydrogen production, transportation, power generation and carbon sequestration projects arcing across the Navajo Nation to Farmington and down to the I-40 corridor between Gallup and Albuquerque. Most of the projects are underway, and it’s clear they’ll rely on fossil fuels.
 



 
Tallgrass Energy sits at the center of all this activity and has the backing of the state’s biggest political player, New Mexico’s governor. The Denver-based company operates more than 7,000 miles of natural gas pipelines stretching from Oregon to Ohio, and it’s going all-in on creating the necessary pieces of a new economic base in New Mexico’s second-largest fossil fuel producing region. The region’s natural gas holds the key to many of the projects

“Hydrogen is huge!” Gov. Michelle Lujan Grisham proclaimed while speaking at an event in Farmington in April. What came next is what many in the region fear.

“Hydrogen uses the natural gas resources here we don’t know what to do with,” she said. 

Actually, plenty of people know what to do with natural gas. The issue is that fewer and fewer people want to use it, even as more and more of it is being produced. Historically, natural gas has been used most significantly for electrical grid power generation in the U.S., but its use in that arena is declining as renewable energy prices drop in the face of government climate policies and ever-cheaper solar technology.
 


It takes more energy to make hydrogen than it provides when converted to useful energy.


 
Meanwhile, natural gas prices have tanked due to a production glut caused by ever-increasing oil production using hydraulic fracturing, or “fracking,” in places like the Permian Basin, shared between New Mexico and Texas. Producers want the oil, which brings a market price well above the cost of its production. But, pulled from the well, that fracked oil comes commingled with the less desired natural gas. Over the past month, natural gas prices dipped below zero at a main pipeline transit hub in Texas due to the glut. Some companies are storing gas underground, awaiting better days and prices.

Enter hydrogen. The most plentiful element in the universe is a perfectly clean fuel when used to make electricity in a fuel cell. It’s generally cleaner than natural gas when burned to make heat, though the process produces nitrogen oxides that the EPA says damage the human respiratory system and contribute to acid rain. 

The crux lies in how you make your hydrogen, which rarely exists on its own on earth. The cleanest, most energy-intensive way breaks water molecules into hydrogen and oxygen using renewable energy. The common way breaks off hydrogen atoms from the methane in natural gas. Either way, it takes more energy to make hydrogen than it provides when converted to useful energy. When made with natural gas, the process also produces a lot of climate-damaging carbon dioxide. That defeats hydrogen’s clean bonafides unless the carbon dioxide is captured and buried underground, a process that uses even more energy.

Furthermore, the natural gas production and transportation process often leaks, sometimes a lot. That gas is mostly methane, which is 80 times more capable of warming the atmosphere than carbon dioxide in the first 20 years after it’s released. 

The federal government incentivized so-called low-carbon hydrogen production from natural gas with carbon sequestration in the Inflation Reduction Act of 2022. Many worry that this will lead to increased greenhouse gas emissions in light of New Mexico’s rocky track record of policing its oil and gas producers. All of this means a fuel promoted to fight climate change could actually exacerbate it, and cost a lot, too.

“How companies choose to produce that hydrogen will fundamentally be a business decision they must make,” said Michael Coleman, director of communications to Gov. Lujan Grisham. “Our greatest opportunity as a state is producing hydrogen from a range of feedstocks.”

Gov. Lujan Grisham has stumped for hydrogen for years, with little support from the state’s Legislature or environmental groups. She also sought a multibillion-dollar grant from the federal government to create a multi-state hydrogen ecosystem centered in New Mexico’s San Juan Basin, but the feds snubbed it last October. Hydrogen investments face a bumpy road in other states as well. 

Nonetheless, Lujan Grisham forges on — she went to the Netherlands last week to drum up more hydrogen investments. Meanwhile, testing and planning chug along, with Tallgrass linking many of the far-flung pieces together. “The governor is looking to attract all kinds of hydrogen businesses to New Mexico,” Coleman said. “Tallgrass’ proposal draws all of the attention because of its scale but is hardly the only initiative under way.”
 


The Navajo Nation has a 100-year history of outside companies coming in, making fortunes from Native resources and leaving environmental messes behind. 


 
“One of the more notable misconceptions that we’ve struggled to overcome is the view that we are focused on a singular point-to-point hydrogen project,” said Steven Davidson, vice president of government and public affairs for Tallgrass Energy. He’s referring to a hydrogen pipeline being developed by GreenView, a Tallgrass subsidiary. “We are working to create a clean energy ecosystem in coordination with many other parties,” he said.

One of those parties is the Four Corners Clean Energy Alliance, an advocacy group promoting hydrogen development and associated technologies in the region on behalf of GreenView and Tallgrass. One of the group’s board members is an executive at Tallgrass. Both the group’s interim director and director of communications also work for the Consumer Energy Alliance, an industry trade group sponsored in part by a who’s-who of fossil fuel energy producers.

The Tallgrass ecosystem includes a carbon capture and sequestration project with New Mexico Tech. The university has been studying the geology of the San Juan Basin since 2020 with the goal of getting three sequestration wells operational in a few years. The project is in the middle of its federal permitting process and could be approved sometime next year.

It also includes the Escalante coal-fired power plant retrofitted to burn hydrogen, along I-40 between Albuquerque and Gallup and the hydrogen pipeline linking Farmington to central Arizona and crossing the Navajo Nation, a controversial project still in the planning stages.

It’s expected to include a hydrogen production facility or two in or near Farmington, with exact locations to be determined.

And there’s more. At a San Juan County Commission meeting in April, the lead researcher on the carbon sequestration project pointed out that if the Escalante power plant is to reach its carbon-free objective, Tallgrass has to build another pipeline, this one for carbon dioxide, running from the Escalante power plant to the future carbon sequestration wells, roughly 100 miles to the north and crossing the eastern reaches of the Navajo Nation.

Meanwhile, the hydrogen pipeline project has already drawn fire from Navajo opposed to further energy projects on the Nation. The tribe has a 100-year history of outside companies coming in, making fortunes from Native resources and leaving environmental messes behind. 

“All the projects that have ever been on Navajo [Nation] made those companies a lot of money,” said Jessica Keetso, who is Diné and an organizer with Tó Nizhóní Ání or Sacred Water Speaks, a Navajo water rights and environmental protection group. Historically, she said, they don’t clean up after themselves. “They get away with not doing reclamation, for everything from oil and gas, uranium to coal,” she said.
 


“Will this really kickstart our economy, our Navajo Nation economy? I think that’s questionable. If 50 years of coal mining couldn’t do that, hydrogen is not going to do that.”

~ Jessica Keetso, organizer, Tó Nizhóní Ání

 
Many are also unhappy with how Tallgrass has gone about drumming up support from the tribe’s widely spaced, often-impoverished population. 

At a meeting of the Navajo Nation Resources and Development Committee in Albuquerque in late April to discuss the hydrogen pipeline project, committee member Rickie Nez told Tallgrass representatives, “No more gift cards! No more gift cards! It makes you look like you’re bribing someone.” 

GreenView representatives had been giving out gift cards to tribal members who attended chapter house meetings where the pipeline was discussed. (Chapter houses are the most local form of government on the Navajo Nation.) At some meetings, tribal members also voted on resolutions to allow the pipeline to cross their chapters. Davidson said the company came up with the idea “in consultation with respected cultural advisors from the Navajo Nation … to lessen the burden to the individual to encourage them to participate.” He said that the cards were for $25 to $50. He also heard that the cards “met with some concern about optics. We completely understand that point.”

In addition, at the Resources and Development Committee meeting, Adam Schiche, whose online profile says he is the vice president for international business development at Tallgrass, said that GreenView representatives met with and paid individual grazing permit holders $500 for the possibility of working on land where livestock grazes. Davidson later said, “We have no qualms” in offering upfront payments, treating Navajo permit holders “exactly like landowners off the Nation.” He said further money would be given if the project goes forward.

“Money talks. Money is persuading people, which is a very sad thing to see,” said Keetso. “The tactics are actually paying off for them because two months ago they didn’t have any resolutions.”

For roughly two years, representatives from both Tó Nizhóní Ání and GreenView have made their cases for or against the pipeline and asked chapters to consider resolutions supporting or opposing it all along the proposed pipeline route. At the April Resources and Development Committee hearing, Schiche said that Tallgrass representatives had gathered resolutions in favor of the pipeline from five chapters. Tó Nizhóní Ání has gathered 15 against.

Tallgrass’ main business is natural gas, and while the focus on hydrogen is touted as part of a climate change solution, it’s clearly connected to those fossil fuel operations. “We believe every practical option to decarbonize should be advanced — including the decarbonization of natural gas to make … hydrogen,” Davidson said. He sees hydrogen keeping the lights on, firing power plants when the sun goes down and the winds calm. “Hydrogen is a proven way to convert and store that clean electricity for when it’s needed,” he said. That’s the idea that ties natural gas to carbon sequestration, to the Escalante hydrogen-fired power plant 100 miles west of Albuquerque and to a 200-mile pipeline across the Navajo Nation to central Arizona.

Powering the electric grid with expensive hydrogen isn’t universally popular. The Rocky Mountain Institute, a Colorado-based nonprofit that helps businesses and governments transition away from fossil fuels, promotes a common view for hydrogen’s best uses. “Fertilizer, oil refining and petrochemicals, steel manufacturing, and long-distance heavy-duty transport are no-regrets applications of hydrogen today,” they write. Hydrogen power plants aren’t what’s needed now.

In the end, New Mexico’s discussion about hydrogen is about money. At the Resource and Development Committee meeting, Schiche told the group that $400,000 a year would be split among chapter houses along the pipeline route. In addition, the Nation could choose either a percentage stake in the pipeline company or annual payment for gas moving through the line. 

“Will this really kickstart our economy, our Navajo Nation economy?” Keetso said later. “I think that’s questionable. If 50 years of coal mining couldn’t do that, hydrogen is not going to do that.”

Long-term jobs are a perennial hope for any projects on the Nation, where unemployment runs high. Schiche said that there would be a lot of construction work while building the project, but “the pipeline itself doesn’t generate a lot of jobs.” He said those would be at two hydrogen production sites somewhere around Farmington — which is not on the reservation.

Keetso calls on bigger groups to fight alongside Tó Nizhóní Ání against the hydrogen projects. She said, “I just wish big greens would get off the fence and say, ‘Hey, this hydrogen may be the solution for some things. But the way that this company is doing it is wrong.’”


Copyright 2024 Capital & Main

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Why Rihanna's Expanding Clara Lionel Foundation Is Seen as a Model for Celebrity Philanthropy

Rihanna fans might know the musician for hits such as “Umbrella” and “Diamonds."

NEW YORK (AP) — Rihanna is accustomed to defying convention. But it is not the megastar-turned-mogul's long-awaited follow-up to 2016's “Anti” album set to make waves this year. It's her philanthropy.Named after Rihanna's grandparents and funded partially through her brands, the Clara Lionel Foundation is coming off a “refresh” that is poised to direct more funds toward climate solutions and women's entrepreneurship in the under-invested regions of East Africa, the Caribbean and the U.S. South. After 13 years of relative anonymity, the nonprofit is ready for more visibility.“Our founder is a woman from a small island nation who’s got global reach. She’s an entrepreneur. She’s a mom. She’s a creative,” said Executive Director Jessie Schutt-Aine. “So, we want an organization that reflects that spirit and that energy. She’s bold and she’s ambitious. She’s innovative. She always does things different. She’s a game changer.”Experts say it's rare to see such intentionality among famous philanthropists. Clara Lionel Foundation has also garnered praise for its embrace of “trust-based” giving, which empowers recipients with unrestricted funding.NDN Collective founder Nick Tilsen said CLF lets his Indigenous power-building nonprofit “do the work on our terms” — and that other funders should take notes.“They’re not a foundation that’s all up in your business, either,” Tilsen said. “They support. They see the work. They allow us to do what we need to do.” Clara Lionel Foundation's personal roots Rihanna started the foundation with a $516,000 contribution after her grandmother died of cancer complications in 2012. That year, the musician established an oncology center at Barbados’ main hospital to expand cancer screening and treatment. And the young foundation focused on healthcare and Barbados for much of last decade.By 2019, though, CLF had begun prioritizing emergency preparedness. Grantmaking jumped to more than $33 million in 2020 as the nonprofit provided much-needed pandemic relief and backed racial justice efforts. Post-pandemic spending slowdowns coincided with its internal transition, according to tax filings.A revamped team and refined priorities now match its broader ambitions. A new director for women's entrepreneurship, based in South Carolina, will build out that pillar's programs. Black Feminist Fund co-founder Amina Doherty now oversees programs and impact. Rounding out its five new pillars are climate solutions, arts and culture, health access and equity, and future generations.The youth focus was commended by Ashley Lashley, a 25-year-old whose foundation has worked with CLF to address environmental challenges in her native Barbados. She often hears leaders say that ‘youth are the future,' she said, but those statements rarely translate into actual support.“Rihanna’s foundation is a prime example of how women in power can help contribute to work that is being done at the community level,” Lashley said.Rihanna told The Associated Press she hopes CLF will continue to be a force for “global inclusion in philanthropy.”She reflected on the foundation's 13-year transformation in a statement: “Today we have global reach, but that notion of love for community and for our roots runs deep in the DNA of the foundation." Finding partners — big and small The latest example of that evolution is a partnership with The Andrew W. Mellon Foundation. Barbados' “invaluable history” as “an essential chapter in the broader story of the African diaspora" is threatened by climate change, according to a Mellon press release.Together, the two foundations announced, they will fund “artist-led initiatives” to protect that culture “while inspiring new narratives and opportunities internationally.”Schutt-Aine views the partnership with Mellon — the largest philanthropic supporter of the arts in the U.S. — as a milestone for CLF. Justin Garrett Moore, the director of the Mellon's Humanities in Place program, said the nonprofit's name arose when his team asked contacts to recommend partners. “We think there is an incredible platform that Clara Lionel Foundation has, with their founder, to bring this type of work into a legibility and visibility for the organizations that will be supported,” Moore said. “Also, just generally in the society, to help amplify the power of the arts.”Among those grantees is a developmental performance arts program that also provides free social services to students in the nation's capital of Bridgetown. Operation Triple Threat founder Janelle Headley said Clara Lionel Foundation helped the nonprofit afford a warehouse outfitted with acoustics panels, sound equipment and a dance floor.The relationship began with a microgrant for scholarships. Operation Triple Threat now receives general operating support — a “revolutionary” investment, Headley said, because charitable donations are usually earmarked for specific causes. That flexibility proved especially helpful during the pandemic when rapidly changing circumstances created new needs like iPads for remote learning. “It's uncommon, to be honest, to have someone give a sizable donation unrestricted and say, ‘We trust you, your vision,’” Headley said. “That is very forward-thinking of them.” A unique model for celebrity philanthropy The approach is unique, according to Mary Beth Collins, the executive director of the Center for Community and Nonprofit Studies at the University of Wisconsin-Madison. She finds that celebrities typically engage in philanthropy only when necessary.But Collins said CLF appears to think long-term about its partners and deliberately in its bottom-up funding. The strategies align with her own recommendations to engage expert professionals, address root causes, select focus areas important to founders and lift up leaders living those issues.“We want to see funds and resources from the more endowed people in the world going to those leaders on the ground that really know the place and the experience and the issues best,” Collins said.CLF used that model late last year when it provided additional funding to a clean energy nonprofit partner impacted by Hurricane Helene. Melanie Allen, co-director of The Hive Fund for Climate and Gender Justice, said they suddenly received around $60,000 to quickly distribute among vetted partners in devastated communities.The contribution came amid an increasingly hostile environment for nonprofits like hers supporting women of color, which has prompted some philanthropists to reduce giving. Allen said she is excited about CLF’s “deep commitment to the South going forward.”As others reduce resources, CLF wants to bring more philanthropic partners to the table. They're planning a summer convening for grantees to expand networks. The message, CLF's Doherty said, is “We will stick with you.”“Some people might say times look bleak," Doherty said. "But this is a moment of possibility.”The importance of remaining grounded in communities you serve is a lesson Schutt-Aine learned throughout a 25-year global health career.Most recently the Chief of Equity, Gender and Cultural Diversity at the Pan American Health Organization, Schutt-Aine has treated the world’s deadliest infections of tuberculosis, malaria and HIV/AIDS.“If you’re going to work on malaria," she said, “you need to have lived with the mosquito.”Associated Press coverage of philanthropy and nonprofits receives support through the AP’s collaboration with The Conversation US, with funding from Lilly Endowment Inc. The AP is solely responsible for this content. For all of AP’s philanthropy coverage, visit https://apnews.com/hub/philanthropy.Copyright 2025 The Associated Press. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten or redistributed.Photos You Should See - Feb. 2025

This Is What Forecasters Mean When They Talk About a 100-Year Flood

Weather forecasts sometimes warn of storms that can unleash such unusual rainfall that they are described as 100-year or even 500-year floods

Weather forecasters sometimes warn of storms that unleash such unusual rain they are described as 100-year or even 500-year floods. Here’s what to know about how scientists determine how extreme a flood is and how common these extreme events are becoming. What does a 100-year flood mean? Scientists use math to help people understand how unusual a severe flood is and how to compare the intensity of one flood to another. According to the U.S. Geological Survey, one statistic scientists use is the percentage chance that a flood of a specific magnitude will happen. A 500-year flood means such an event has a 1 in 500 chance, or 0.2%, of occurring in a year. Another concept scientists use is how frequently an event of a certain intensity is expected. For example, a meteorologist can look at the average recurrence interval of an anticipated flood and see that a similar event is only expected once every 25 years.Agencies have preferred expressing the percent chance of a flood occurring rather than the recurrence interval because that statistic better represents the fact that rare floods can happen within a few years of each other. It's sort of like rolling a pair of dice and getting double six's twice in a row. It's rare, but statistically possible. Another term people hear during an impending flood is that it could be a once-in-a-generation or once-in-a-lifetime event, a casual way of saying a flood could be unlike anything many people have experienced. How flooding is changing with the climate Researchers from the University of Chicago calculated that Houston, Texas, was struck by three 500-year flood events within 24 months from 2015 through 2017. The events included Hurricane Harvey, the heaviest recorded rainfall ever in the U.S. Homes and businesses were destroyed and cars were swept away by the floods.Although math can calculate how often to expect floods of specific magnitudes, nature has its own plans, including irregularity. Many interconnected systems in the environment, such as local weather patterns and larger events like El Nino, can contribute to the changing likelihood of floods. Since the early 1900s, precipitation events have become heavier and more frequent across most of the U.S. and flooding is becoming a bigger issue, according to the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration. Gases emitted by humans, like carbon dioxide and methane, are warming the atmosphere, allowing it to hold more water vapor. For every 1 degree of Fahrenheit that the temperature warms, the atmosphere can hold nearly 4% more water, which is a 7% increase for every 1 degree Celsius, said Victor Gensini, professor of atmospheric sciences at Northern Illinois University. That vapor eventually falls back to the ground as rain or snow. “We’ve absolutely seen a shift in the probability distribution of heavy rainfall over the last three decades,” Gensini said. Other regions have experienced drought due to changing precipitation patterns. According to NASA, major droughts and periods of excessive precipitation have been occurring more frequently. Globally, the intensity of extreme wet and dry events is closely linked to global warming. ___Seth Borenstein contributed to this report from Washington, D.C. The Associated Press’ climate and environmental coverage receives financial support from multiple private foundations. AP is solely responsible for all content. Find AP’s standards for working with philanthropies, a list of supporters and funded coverage areas at AP.org.Copyright 2025 The Associated Press. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten or redistributed.Photos You Should See - Feb. 2025

UK housebuilders ‘very bad’ at building houses, says wildlife charity CEO

Land speculation to blame for lack of progress amid Labour drive to build 1.5m new homes, says Wildlife Trusts headUK politics live – latest updatesBusiness live – latest updatesHousebuilders in the UK are failing to supply much-needed new homes not because of restrictive planning laws, but because they are “very bad” at building houses, the head of one of the UK’s biggest nature charities has warned.“There’s planning permission today for a million new houses,” said Craig Bennett, chief executive of the Wildlife Trusts. “So why aren’t they being built? Why is it that volume housebuilders in this country are actually very bad at building houses, even when they’ve got planning permission?” Continue reading...

Housebuilders in the UK are failing to supply much-needed new homes not because of restrictive planning laws, but because they are “very bad” at building houses, the head of one of the UK’s biggest nature charities has warned.“There’s planning permission today for a million new houses,” said Craig Bennett, chief executive of the Wildlife Trusts. “So why aren’t they being built? Why is it that volume housebuilders in this country are actually very bad at building houses, even when they’ve got planning permission?”Ministers have boasted of their swingeing reforms to the planning system – in a bill that passed its second reading last week – claiming they will clear the way for the 1.5m new homes promised in the Labour manifesto.But Bennett believes this hope will be in vain because the government is missing the point. “[The reason so few homes are built] is because they [the large housebuilders] love to hold land and wait for the prices to up. A lot of the way that a lot of housebuilders in this country make money is through speculation around land prices, as much as it is about building houses.”Angela Rayner, the deputy Labour leader, and Keir Starmer, the prime minister, have overhauled the planning system to make housebuilding easier. Photograph: Joe Giddens/PAHousebuilders rejected Bennett’s analysis. Steve Turner, an executive director of the Home Builders Federation, said: “Housebuilders deliver a range of high-quality environmentally friendly house types to meet all budgets, and customer satisfaction levels are at an all time high. The myth of land banking has been demolished time and again by independent experts. Housebuilders’ only return on investment is selling homes, and having purchased land and navigated the costly and bureaucratic planning process there is absolutely no reason not to build and sell.”Bennett will mark five years in April as head of the Wildlife Trusts, a confederation of 46 independent organisations which together boast 2,600 nature reserves (“about 1,000 more than McDonald’s has restaurants”) and 944,000 members. Before that, he headed Friends of the Earth.The Wildlife Trusts, as a charity, are careful to avoid being party political, but within Charity Commission guidelines there is still scope for civil society groups to take issue with the politicians of the day.And planning regulation – and the supposed conflict between development and environmental protection – has become a political flashpoint. Green groups have accused the Labour government of “scapegoating” nature and fomenting culture wars, after Rachel Reeves, chancellor of the exchequer, called for businesses to “focus on getting things built, and stop worrying about the bats and the newts”. The prime minister, Keir Starmer, has also weighed in, ridiculing the presence of “the distinguished jumping spider” for allegedly halting new homes in Kent.Government criticism of environmental protection may be partly based on a wish to establish an enemy, says Bennett. Photograph: Alamy/PAThe government’s combative rhetoric has been informed, Bennett believes, not by careful consideration of the UK’s infrastructural deficits, but by a mixture of a “misinformation bubble”, in which top ministers have absorbed some prejudices of the previous Conservative government, and a belief that they need to set up an enemy to fix on.Reeves was sounding “more Liz Truss than Liz Truss” on the growth issue, he added, referring to the former Tory prime minister who espoused anti-green rhetoric more often heard from US rightwing politicians. He blames Morgan McSweeney, the prime minister’s chief adviser, for a fixation on the Reform party, which threatens Labour in seats across the “red wall”.Reform’s leaders, Nigel Farage and Richard Tice, have been vitriolic in their condemnation of environmentalists, green concerns over nature and “stupid net zero”, as described by Tice. But Bennett pointed to a survey of 4,000 people’s attitudes towards green issues, which found that Labour voters who were thinking of switching to Reform were overwhelmingly positive towards the Wildlife Trusts. “There’s a lot of the kind of Reform voters who care passionately about this. People who live in the Westminster bubble assume that what the party leadership are doing is what the voters are doing. It’s quite different.”Building work in Ebbsfleet Garden City, Kent, which the prime minister said was being held back by wildlife concerns. Photograph: Neil Hall/EPAHe has extended invitations to Farage, Tice and the Reform party to meet and discuss these issues. So far, they have not been taken up.Bennett argues that new housing could sit alongside nature, if housebuilders were given greater direction by the government and built affordable homes instead of the larger and more expensive “executive” homes that deliver higher profits. But he said the poor construction of many new houses, and the failure of developers to build in harmony with nature and incorporate green space, were among the reasons people rejected them.Bennett added that charities such as the Wildlife Trusts create economic growth while improving society. “We’re now employing 3,700 people across the UK in those communities,” he said. “I get a bit fed up at times when politicians talk about charities as if we’re just like small little things. We are actually really significant employers.” Bennett added that in many areas, wildlife charities “underpin the local economy”, providing tourism opportunities, flood management and employment.Labour disparages nature at its peril, Bennett said, arguing that all voters care about nature on their doorstep. He said: “I see people from every demographic, political [party] or age. The one thing that unites us is how much we care about our local environment, and care about local nature, and want to see it in a better state.”

L.A. issues first rebuilding permits as fire recovery accelerates

The initial round of federal cleanup finished in record time, and experts say the permitting process appears to be outpacing other blazes as well.

PACIFIC PALISADES, California — Ben and Ellie Perlman were standing on the roof of their two-story house, watching the blaze barrel toward their neighborhood, when they made the decision.No matter what happens, they promised each other, we’re going to rebuild.Subscribe for unlimited access to The PostYou can cancel anytime.SubscribeIt was an abstract commitment. Flames had not yet swallowed the new house they had moved into just nine months earlier. They hadn’t seen their Pacific Palisades block entirely leveled. And they hadn’t fully reckoned with what it would mean to start over.But 2½ months after the Los Angeles firestorms, the Perlmans are following through on their rooftop resolution. They are poised to be among the first group of families to receive rebuilding permits and break ground, a milestone moment in the timeline of disaster recovery.“Now that the house burned down, it hasn’t changed our resolve,” Ben Perlman said. “This is our community, this is our home and we’re committed to it.”The first batch of permits comes as officials here have prioritized speed in response to the unprecedented disaster, which spawned fires that destroyed more than 16,000 structures across Los Angeles County in January. The initial round of federal cleanup finished in record time, and experts say the permitting process appears to be outpacing other incidents as well.Follow Climate & environmentThe city so far has green-lit the rebuilding of four properties in the Palisades, an affluent neighborhood near the Pacific Ocean, and has more — including the Perlmans’ — in the pipeline, days away from final approval. Lawmakers in Los Angeles County, which issues permits for parcels outside city limits, including the heavily affected community of Altadena, say they expect their first applications to be granted soon.The progress signals the beginning of a new, important phase.“The first permit is a sign of the road back,” said Jennifer Gray Thompson, founder and chief executive of After the Fire, a nonprofit that helps communities navigate rebuilding. “Now, instead of being in response mode, you’re starting toward a new tide coming in — one of hope and recovery that gains momentum. You can’t have momentum without a first.”‘Follow me’After moving from the East Coast and bouncing around a few neighborhoods in the area, the Perlmans finally settled in the Alphabet Streets district of the Palisades. They walked their Yorkie to the coffee shop most mornings and enrolled their 2-year-old daughter in a local temple’s early-childhood program.“We felt safe, we felt respected,” said Ben Perlman, who runs corporate strategy for his family’s retail business. “It’s hard to put a pin in it and explain exactly what that feeling is, but it felt good. It felt like home.”Within days of finding out their house burned, they had contacted their contractor to discuss rebuilding plans.“I don’t think they hesitated for a minute,” said Oran Belillti, owner of Ortam Construction, which built the five-bedroom, 4,100-square-foot modern home that the Perlmans moved into last year.Because they had recently built their home and opted to reuse the already approved plans, the Perlmans’ postfire application was fast-tracked under emergency state and city orders.They began submitting their paperwork in mid-February and less than a month later received word that their permit was in the final stage of the process — a progression that was roughly four times faster than when they first built the house. They’re now awaiting a final inspection of their cleared-off lot and hope to begin construction soon.What comes next is far less certain.Unsettled debates about the future of infrastructure in the area — whether the local utility will move power lines underground, for example — could eventually delay rebuilding work. And even once the house is finished, there’s still the matter of moving back: Will the surrounding area still be littered with toxic fire remains? Will the rest of the neighborhood transform into an active construction zone?“There are many more questions than answers right now,” Perlman said. “But I feel it’s important for somebody to step out into that void and say, ‘I’m going to figure it out. We are building, follow me.’”Perlman helped launch 1Pali, a grassroots group focused on facilitating in-person gatherings for the fire-scattered community. He wants to lead by example. If others see his family rebuilding, he hopes, maybe they’ll follow suit.“There are a lot of people who are still on the fence,” said Belillti, the builder. “If they see that, wow, there’s already a house going up in the Alphabet Streets, I think they’re going to say, ‘Well, if that guy can do it, we can start to do it, too.’”Across the street from the Perlmans, Jeff Scruton is also moving forward. The 44-year resident of the Palisades decided to choose from a list of preapproved architectural plans rather than rebuild his home as it was — another option for residents whose homes were not built recently but who are still hoping to expedite the process. His builder expects to begin work in October and finish a year later. Scruton was heartened to hear of the Perlmans’ progress.“The more people who are doing that,” he said, “the better.”‘A wicked problem’In Paradise, a northern California town almost completely destroyed in the 2018 Camp Fire, staff in the Building Resiliency Center still ring a bell and cheer for every new permit issued.In the local vernacular, residents celebrate whenever they see the frame of a house “go vertical,” rising from the foundation and beginning to take shape. Nearly 19,000 structures burned, most of them homes.“I will see a home go vertical and it changes what my street looks like,” said Jen Goodlin, the executive director of Rebuild Paradise, a nonprofit that supports the town’s recovery. “It takes away from the devastated look. That burned-out empty-looking space now has something in it.”For Los Angeles, places like Paradise contain messages from the future. On the surface, the two couldn’t be more different — an international metropolis in one of the country’s most populous regions and a remote town in the mountain foothills — but residents of both now know what it’s like to see their community burn. And more than six years into recovery, those in Paradise know what it takes to move back.“Someone has to be willing to take the step,” Goodlin said. “Not only does it give hope, it creates camaraderie. It doesn’t matter who your neighbors are, if they choose to come back to an area that’s disaster-impacted, you have this common ground. It breaks down all these barriers between humans.”Los Angeles issued its first rebuilding permit on March 5, just 57 days after fires broke out in the Palisades and Altadena.Elected leaders in California and Los Angeles have been under intense local and federal pressure to oversee a rapid rebuild, and they have faced criticism from some who say their approach has been scattered and disjointed.Traci Park, a Los Angeles city council member, said at a recent meeting that the number of permits issued so far “doesn’t seem like very many” and that the city risks “losing our audience if we make this any harder for people.”It’s difficult to compare disasters, since each one occurs in a specific local context, but Los Angeles’s early pace is, despite the scrutiny, significantly faster than four recent major fires analyzed by the Urban Institute, a public policy think tank.Paradise issued its first permit 78 days after the fire, though progress plateaued in subsequent months. In Shasta County, California, it took 91 days following the Carr Fire. In suburban Denver, 95 days elapsed after the Marshall Fire. And on Maui, it took 267 days for officials to approve the first permit after fires razed much of Lahaina in 2023. After one year, the study shows, none of the jurisdictions had approved permits for more than a third of affected houses.Officials in L.A. seem to have “responded well to lessons learned in other places,” said Andrew Rumbach, a senior fellow at the Urban Institute and co-author of the fire rebuilding analysis. Policies mandating expedited permitting and lifting certain environmental regulations signal a focus on moving quickly, Rumbach said.The key, he added, will be balancing speed with deliberation, so that the process is equitable for all impacted Angelenos and minimizes displacement.Thompson, of After the Fire, said every community must define its own measurements of a successful rebuild. If Los Angeles carries on at its current pace, 80 percent of residents could return in about five years, she estimated. She has visited both fire zones three times and said the region could be the model of recovery.“It’s the land of doers, of producers, of organizers,” Thompson said.In the Palisades, Perlman visits his block at least once a week. The last of his lot’s debris was removed Friday. It is now blank slate. He’s done an informal survey of his neighbors and found that nearly everyone is committed to rebuilding.His family feels fortunate to have the means to return, and Perlman said the community must support residents who are underinsured, who might struggle to come back. Some of those displaced include retirees without the assets to cover the gap between insurance and reality; others had no insurance and could be forced to sell.Rebuilding is “a wicked problem,” he said — full of complexity and challenges. But in conversations with others, he’s trying to keep focused on the big picture: “We want to rebuild, we want to get back into our houses as soon as possible,” he said. “We can’t lose sight of that.”At the family’s rental home in Brentwood, the Perlmans’ 2-year-old talks about everything she misses: her toys, her bed, “the burned house.”“We miss the burned house, too,” Perlman tells her. “We’re going to build another one.”

A proposed bill could reignite the long-running battle over new Oregon-Washington highway bypass

Environmentalists have vehemently fought similar proposals in the past.

Two lawmakers have revived an old proposal to potentially construct a highway bypass between Oregon and Washington as an alternative to Interstate 5, which they say would ease congestion in the Portland area.It’s an ambitious and controversial idea. The bill, introduced Thursday in the Oregon Senate, would require the state to study the effects of extending Oregon 127, which runs west of Portland, north across the Columbia River and connecting it to I-5 in Washington.The one-page bill is light on details and does not state where a potential highway extension would cross the Columbia River or where it would connect with I-5. Regardless, any proposed bypass would almost certainly cut through farmland or environmentally protected areas. For years, some state and local officials have unsuccessfully pitched similar highway extension projects in Washington County. Proponents say it would ease congestion for truckers and commuters who have to sit in daily traffic on I-5 or U.S. 26 in Portland, while also meeting the needs of a growing population.“Big transportation projects take forever, and I’d prefer that we get in front of the need rather than try to play catch up 30 years from now,” said Sen. Bruce Starr, a Republican from Dundee. Starr and Republican Sen. Suzanne Weber of Tillamook, both members of the legislative transportation committee, are the bill’s only sponsors.Environmentalists would likely oppose any highway extension project that arises from the study. They have vehemently fought similar proposals in the past, typically arguing that extending highways through farmland defies Oregon’s strict land use laws. They have argued that cities should instead invest in other environmentally-friendly solutions to reduce congestion.Any proposed extension of Oregon 127 would likely cut through areas protected by Oregon’s land use laws. The highway currently ends at U.S. 30 just south of Sauvie Island, much of which is zoned exclusively for farm use.“1000 Friends of Oregon opposes efforts to pave over our state’s precious farmlands or other natural resources without good reason,” Krystal Eldridge, spokesperson for the environmental nonprofit, said in an email. The farmland on Sauvie Island, she said, is “home to some of our region’s best soils, which are irreplaceable and essential to safeguard for the long-term benefit of our communities.”Starr said he would expect environmentalist opposition and described this bill as a “conversation-starter.” He reiterated that although the study would have to be completed by next September if the bill passes, any potential highway extension or bridge construction would require a public engagement process and would likely take years to get underway.“(Environmentalists) don’t understand that you got to move people and freight, and congestion only creates more pollution,” Starr said. “At the end of the day, you got to have level-headed folks that recognize what’s important as to making an economy work.”Oregon truckers and business groups who have typically supported highway extensions would likely throw their political weight behind any proposal designed to ease congestion.The likely battle between environmentalists and business groups over such a project reflects the delicate position that Oregon lawmakers find themselves in regarding transportation funding and policy. Lawmakers are currently crafting the state’s first major transportation package in eight years, which will require balancing the desires of cities, environmentalists, truckers and other interested groups.Cassie Wilson, transportation policy manager for 1000 Friends of Oregon, said she hopes lawmakers will continue to invest in public transit and safety improvements “over costly new projects the public has not asked for.”It’s unclear if the bill will move forward this session, which must end by late June. Rep. Susan McLain, a Democrat from Forest Grove and co-chair of the transportation committee, did not say whether she would support such a proposal. “Timing is everything,” she said in a text.— Carlos Fuentes covers state politics and government. Reach him at 503-221-5386 or cfuentes@oregonian.com.Our journalism needs your support. Subscribe today to OregonLive.com/subscribe.Latest local politics stories

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