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The siting of an offshore wind port raises new conflicts in Maine

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Monday, July 15, 2024

Ron Huber rifled through a thick folder full of decades of state environmental records outside a community hall in the tiny coastal Maine town of Searsport. For the longtime local conservation activist, the scene inside was a familiar one: Dozens of neighbors, workers, and environmentalists mingled over pizza and coffee, discussing the merits of a proposed industrial project that has potential to transform the local economy, but at the expense of a locally beloved natural area. “We’ve seen these things rise and fall many times,” Huber said outside the event late this past spring. Conservationists have celebrated over the decades as plans for a coal plant and a liquefied natural gas terminal on Sears Island came and went without success.  This latest proposal presents a new kind of conflict. Rather than pitting townspeople against a corporate polluter, this development would support clean energy and be integral to the state’s plan for cutting climate emissions. In May, the state applied for a $456 million federal grant to build a specially designed port on about 100 acres of Sears Island to support Maine’s nascent floating offshore wind industry. About two-thirds of the 941-acre island is in permanent conservation, and the state retains an easement on the rest, which has been reserved for a potential port for years.  “We’re not optimistic that this one’s going to die under its own weight,” Huber said, noting that the offshore wind port has far more popular support than previous development proposals.  Visits to recent community events like this one show that, unlike the polarized fights over clean energy projects in other parts of the country, Maine’s wind port is creating more personal divides — challenging residents’ values around climate change, conservation, and economic factors. It previews what could be coming as wind grows in the Northeast.  A sign, as seen on Sears Island on July 5, urges the state to build its planned wind port on nearby Mack Point, a developed area, instead of on the island. Annie Ropeik / Energy News Network “My question is really about why we’re not actually all on the same team,” said Belfast, Maine, resident Julianne Dow inside the community hall, during a Q&A period with New England labor organizers. “I’m very pro-union, I’m pro-offshore wind, and pro having it here, and for the economic benefits for the region. But I’m also very pro maintaining Sears Island as a precious Midcoast resource.”  Dow and activists like Huber want the port built instead at a Sprague Energy-owned oil and logistics terminal across the water known as Mack Point. It was considered as an alternative in lengthy public processes in recent years, and Sprague and opponents of the Sears Island proposal have continued to urge reconsideration for it so far this summer.  Offshore wind has taken some big steps forward in Maine this year. Federal regulators approved a state research array of floating turbines, which generate power in deep waters far offshore, and are nearing leasing for commercial projects. A new state law calls for Maine to procure 3 gigawatts of offshore wind by 2040, using union-standard labor to build the projects and a floating wind-focused port. Formal environmental assessments and site analyses are still pending. But state port authority director Matthew Burns wrote in June that Mack Point’s “physical and logistical constraints, need for significant dredging, and increased costs to taxpayers for land leasing and port construction would result in an expensive and inferior port for Maine compared to a versatile, purpose-built port on Sears Island.” Still, opponents worry that wetlands and forests on Sears Island could be disrupted by port construction, even if most of the surrounding ecosystem remains intact.  “Because we have to sacrifice something, let’s sacrifice something irreplaceable, instead of cleaning up a dirty old existing port?” Huber said outside the event. “That’s just ridiculous.”  Asked if he saw wind as a climate solution more broadly, Huber began to express doubts about how turbine arrays would affect the ocean ecosystem. Fellow opponent Lou MacGregor of Belfast cut in.  “Right now, what we’re focusing on is protecting Sears Island,” MacGregor said. “We can get to whether we support offshore wind or not after we protect Sears Island.”  Birders use binoculars to look for spring warblers on Sears Island as part of a trip organized by the Midcoast chapter of Maine Audubon. Annie Ropeik / Energy News Network Scott Cuddy, the executive director of the Maine Labor Climate Council, emphasized at the recent event that his group is agnostic about the port’s location, focusing instead on the benefits it could bring. Under Maine’s wind procurement law, he said, the port’s labor standards will be the same wherever it ends up.  “We desperately want to see this happen, because we need to fight climate change, and we need to do it with good jobs,” Cuddy said.  Cuddy and other labor organizers said state studies indicate that the port project and new wind farms could bring thousands of jobs to coastal Maine towns like Searsport. Local leaders said it could be a boost for shrinking school populations, attracting families to stay in the town long term.  “I think there’s been a mindset for a long time among kids, especially in rural Maine, like this was the thing I always heard: ‘You got to leave the state if you want to get a good job,'” said Sam Boss, the director of apprenticeships, workforce, and equity for the Maine AFL-CIO. “We’ve got to find ways to keep our people here. And if there’s good opportunities, people will stay for them.” Boss, Cuddy, and others answered locals’ questions about plans for training programs for young people to enter the trades, and the family-sustaining wages and benefits promised by the growing wind industry — both in short-term construction positions and into the future. “These are the skills that pay the bills, and they’re skills that don’t go away. The work might change — you know, we went from nuclear power plants, to now we’re doing offshore wind power development. But the skills are transferable,” said Nicki Kent, a union electrician who came to talk about her experience working on offshore wind in Rhode Island. “We’ve just got to get screwdrivers and wrenches into kids’ hands.” Belfast resident Daniel Cowan was taking diligent notes on the back of an envelope while his teenage sons listened from the audience. A Navy veteran now pursuing a degree through the GI Bill, Cowan said he was curious about the possibility of wind industry jobs that could help him and his kids stay in Maine.  Cowan empathized with attendees who were opposed to building the port on Sears Island, but said he thought the project’s benefits sounded like they would outweigh the costs. “You’re going to destroy something no matter what you do. I love Sears Island, I think it’s great, I love walking my dogs out there. But I don’t think that’s going to change,” he said. “The world is coming to an end one way or another, and how fast we get there makes a difference.”  A sign posted by Alliance for Sears Island, a wind port opposition group, is seen beside the island causeway on May 11. Annie Ropeik / Energy News Network The island itself is connected to the mainland by a long causeway, bisected at its start by rail lines that snake around the coastline toward nearby Mack Point. The causeway juts out into Penobscot Bay, and Sears Island opens up at its end, an oval of land covered in trees and flanked by sandy, seaweedy shores.  On a Saturday morning not long before the Searsport labor dinner, a large group of birders gathered at the gate where the causeway’s pavement continues into the forest. They had come to scout for the tiny, colorful songbirds that rest on the island each year amid long migrations between Canada and the tropics.  Near the edge of the woods, someone had spray-painted the asphalt road with “Wassumkeag,” the Indigenous Wabanaki name for the island. Hand-lettered signs with the web address for the advocacy group Alliance for Sears Island read, “Wind power = Good? On Sears Island = Bad!”  The state does not plan to site wind turbines on Sears Island itself. Workers at the proposed port would help build and assemble towers and blades in pieces, towing them far out to sea for final assembly.  Still, anti-wind groups have seized on the proposed project. Lobstermen affiliated with the New England Fishermen’s Stewardship Association, or NEFSA, a Maine-based advocacy group founded in 2023 that focuses partly on opposing offshore wind, spoke out against the port at the recent jobs event.  “My concern is only that in trying to affect climate change, that we’re going to cause more damage to the environment than climate change is already causing,” said NEFSA officer Dustin Delano, a commercial fisherman from Friendship, Maine.  NEFSA has since posted signs where the island causeway intersects with the heavily trafficked Route 1 that read, “Keep Sears Island wild.” Similar signs showing a crossed-out wind turbine bore the name of Rhode Island-based Green Oceans. Since its founding in 2022, it has focused mostly on opposing Revolution Wind, currently under construction in waters between Rhode Island and Connecticut.  Many who joined the recent birding trip seemed unaware that Maine’s plans for Sears Island did not involve actually erecting turbines there or close to shore. Others expressed doubts about wind generally. Some did not want to discuss the issue at all, focusing instead on peering through binoculars at the Northern parula, black-throated green warbler, or hermit thrush chirping in the trees along the road.  A few people mentioned concerns that wind projects could harm whales. Scientists have found no evidence to support this claim, which has been linked to fossil fuel-funded disinformation campaigns. Green Oceans’ campaigns in Rhode Island have mimicked the delay and disinformation strategies of climate denialist groups like the Texas Public Policy Foundation, according to Brown University research.  From left: Searsport, Maine, town manager James Gillway, Rhode Island-based union electrician Nicki Kent, Maine Labor Climate Council executive director Scott Cuddy, and Maine AFL-CIO apprenticeships director Sam Boss and Vice President Grant Provost speak at an offshore wind jobs-focused event in Searsport on May 14. Annie Ropeik / Energy News Network The threat of climate change to ecosystems like Sears Island’s, meanwhile, is very real. The Gulf of Maine is one of the fastest-warming water bodies in the world, swelling sea levels, threatening the lobster fishery and leading to more frequent, destructive storms. Maine saw a state-record four federal disaster declarations in 2023 and has received two more already this year.  The warming trend may affect the migratory birds that draw crowds to Sears Island each year. Warming temperatures are reshaping the length and timing of Maine’s seasons, which, combined with declines in insect populations driven by agriculture and other factors, could threaten the birds’ success, studies show.  “If you look at decades and decades of patterns, you’ll see that birds are arriving one to two weeks earlier,” said William Broussard, a Midcoast Audubon board member who led the recent Sears Island trip. “If they get here early, they might not have the insects that they depend on to be out, because maybe the trees aren’t leafing out … and that can be really tough.”  Midcoast Audubon hasn’t taken a position on the wind port issue. It’s a chapter of Maine Audubon, which separately supports the project. Maine Audubon is likewise independent from the National Audubon Society, which advocates for “responsibly sited renewable energy,” including wind, as a climate solution. The paved road that bisects Sears Island, seen on July 5, is used for walking, jogging, and biking. Annie Ropeik / Energy News Network Marge Stickler, a birder from Belfast, said she wished the port would be built at Mack Point instead. “I have mixed feelings about what they’re doing here,” she said. “I love coming here … It’s a special place.”  She had read an opinion piece earlier this year by activist Bill McKibben, founder of the climate groups 350.org and Third Act, that urged Mainers to support the wind port even on Sears Island. McKibben wrote for Mother Jones last year that solving climate change will require a new “yes in my backyard” mindset.  “McKibben wrote that you have to look at the climate as a whole, and this may be a good thing to have here,” Stickler said. “I’m not sure — why did he write that for Maine, he lives in Vermont — but … he said it’s better to have it and it’s better to have it here, maybe.”  Dave Andrews, a retired engineer from South Bristol, Maine, struck a different tone as he trailed after the other birders. He’d worked on Superfund cleanups and brownfield solar projects in his career, and said he’d often heard “not in my backyard” sentiments from neighbors who were worried about viewshed impacts or a change in a place’s character.  “If it’s a Walmart shopping center, I guess you have a valid statement,” he said. “But when it comes to something like this, this is a different balance.”  Andrews called the port’s siting a “terrible dilemma.” But he felt swayed by the urgency of climate change and the fact that the project would leave much of Sears Island intact. As permitting and siting progress in the coming months, he said he hoped others who love the island would be able to accept the sacrifice. “I don’t think there is a choice,” he said. This story was originally published by Grist with the headline The siting of an offshore wind port raises new conflicts in Maine on Jul 15, 2024.

Coastal residents are conflicted over the planned location of a facility that advocates say will help launch Maine's offshore wind industry.

Ron Huber rifled through a thick folder full of decades of state environmental records outside a community hall in the tiny coastal Maine town of Searsport. For the longtime local conservation activist, the scene inside was a familiar one: Dozens of neighbors, workers, and environmentalists mingled over pizza and coffee, discussing the merits of a proposed industrial project that has potential to transform the local economy, but at the expense of a locally beloved natural area.

“We’ve seen these things rise and fall many times,” Huber said outside the event late this past spring. Conservationists have celebrated over the decades as plans for a coal plant and a liquefied natural gas terminal on Sears Island came and went without success. 

This latest proposal presents a new kind of conflict. Rather than pitting townspeople against a corporate polluter, this development would support clean energy and be integral to the state’s plan for cutting climate emissions.

In May, the state applied for a $456 million federal grant to build a specially designed port on about 100 acres of Sears Island to support Maine’s nascent floating offshore wind industry. About two-thirds of the 941-acre island is in permanent conservation, and the state retains an easement on the rest, which has been reserved for a potential port for years. 

“We’re not optimistic that this one’s going to die under its own weight,” Huber said, noting that the offshore wind port has far more popular support than previous development proposals. 

Visits to recent community events like this one show that, unlike the polarized fights over clean energy projects in other parts of the country, Maine’s wind port is creating more personal divides — challenging residents’ values around climate change, conservation, and economic factors. It previews what could be coming as wind grows in the Northeast. 

A wood pier leading to water sits next to a patch of grass with a sign showing an island map.
A sign, as seen on Sears Island on July 5, urges the state to build its planned wind port on nearby Mack Point, a developed area, instead of on the island. Annie Ropeik / Energy News Network

“My question is really about why we’re not actually all on the same team,” said Belfast, Maine, resident Julianne Dow inside the community hall, during a Q&A period with New England labor organizers. “I’m very pro-union, I’m pro-offshore wind, and pro having it here, and for the economic benefits for the region. But I’m also very pro maintaining Sears Island as a precious Midcoast resource.” 

Dow and activists like Huber want the port built instead at a Sprague Energy-owned oil and logistics terminal across the water known as Mack Point. It was considered as an alternative in lengthy public processes in recent years, and Sprague and opponents of the Sears Island proposal have continued to urge reconsideration for it so far this summer. 

Offshore wind has taken some big steps forward in Maine this year. Federal regulators approved a state research array of floating turbines, which generate power in deep waters far offshore, and are nearing leasing for commercial projects. A new state law calls for Maine to procure 3 gigawatts of offshore wind by 2040, using union-standard labor to build the projects and a floating wind-focused port.

Formal environmental assessments and site analyses are still pending. But state port authority director Matthew Burns wrote in June that Mack Point’s “physical and logistical constraints, need for significant dredging, and increased costs to taxpayers for land leasing and port construction would result in an expensive and inferior port for Maine compared to a versatile, purpose-built port on Sears Island.”

Still, opponents worry that wetlands and forests on Sears Island could be disrupted by port construction, even if most of the surrounding ecosystem remains intact. 

“Because we have to sacrifice something, let’s sacrifice something irreplaceable, instead of cleaning up a dirty old existing port?” Huber said outside the event. “That’s just ridiculous.” 

Asked if he saw wind as a climate solution more broadly, Huber began to express doubts about how turbine arrays would affect the ocean ecosystem. Fellow opponent Lou MacGregor of Belfast cut in. 

“Right now, what we’re focusing on is protecting Sears Island,” MacGregor said. “We can get to whether we support offshore wind or not after we protect Sears Island.” 

Birders use binoculars to look for spring warblers on Sears Island as part of a trip organized by the Midcoast chapter of Maine Audubon. Annie Ropeik / Energy News Network

Scott Cuddy, the executive director of the Maine Labor Climate Council, emphasized at the recent event that his group is agnostic about the port’s location, focusing instead on the benefits it could bring. Under Maine’s wind procurement law, he said, the port’s labor standards will be the same wherever it ends up. 

“We desperately want to see this happen, because we need to fight climate change, and we need to do it with good jobs,” Cuddy said. 

Cuddy and other labor organizers said state studies indicate that the port project and new wind farms could bring thousands of jobs to coastal Maine towns like Searsport. Local leaders said it could be a boost for shrinking school populations, attracting families to stay in the town long term. 

“I think there’s been a mindset for a long time among kids, especially in rural Maine, like this was the thing I always heard: ‘You got to leave the state if you want to get a good job,'” said Sam Boss, the director of apprenticeships, workforce, and equity for the Maine AFL-CIO. “We’ve got to find ways to keep our people here. And if there’s good opportunities, people will stay for them.”

Boss, Cuddy, and others answered locals’ questions about plans for training programs for young people to enter the trades, and the family-sustaining wages and benefits promised by the growing wind industry — both in short-term construction positions and into the future.

“These are the skills that pay the bills, and they’re skills that don’t go away. The work might change — you know, we went from nuclear power plants, to now we’re doing offshore wind power development. But the skills are transferable,” said Nicki Kent, a union electrician who came to talk about her experience working on offshore wind in Rhode Island. “We’ve just got to get screwdrivers and wrenches into kids’ hands.”

Belfast resident Daniel Cowan was taking diligent notes on the back of an envelope while his teenage sons listened from the audience. A Navy veteran now pursuing a degree through the GI Bill, Cowan said he was curious about the possibility of wind industry jobs that could help him and his kids stay in Maine. 

Cowan empathized with attendees who were opposed to building the port on Sears Island, but said he thought the project’s benefits sounded like they would outweigh the costs.

“You’re going to destroy something no matter what you do. I love Sears Island, I think it’s great, I love walking my dogs out there. But I don’t think that’s going to change,” he said. “The world is coming to an end one way or another, and how fast we get there makes a difference.” 

A wooden, handpainted sign sits in a patch of grass and wildflowers and reads Wind power equals good on sears island equals bad
A sign posted by Alliance for Sears Island, a wind port opposition group, is seen beside the island causeway on May 11. Annie Ropeik / Energy News Network

The island itself is connected to the mainland by a long causeway, bisected at its start by rail lines that snake around the coastline toward nearby Mack Point. The causeway juts out into Penobscot Bay, and Sears Island opens up at its end, an oval of land covered in trees and flanked by sandy, seaweedy shores. 

On a Saturday morning not long before the Searsport labor dinner, a large group of birders gathered at the gate where the causeway’s pavement continues into the forest. They had come to scout for the tiny, colorful songbirds that rest on the island each year amid long migrations between Canada and the tropics. 

Near the edge of the woods, someone had spray-painted the asphalt road with “Wassumkeag,” the Indigenous Wabanaki name for the island. Hand-lettered signs with the web address for the advocacy group Alliance for Sears Island read, “Wind power = Good? On Sears Island = Bad!” 

The state does not plan to site wind turbines on Sears Island itself. Workers at the proposed port would help build and assemble towers and blades in pieces, towing them far out to sea for final assembly. 

Still, anti-wind groups have seized on the proposed project. Lobstermen affiliated with the New England Fishermen’s Stewardship Association, or NEFSA, a Maine-based advocacy group founded in 2023 that focuses partly on opposing offshore wind, spoke out against the port at the recent jobs event. 

“My concern is only that in trying to affect climate change, that we’re going to cause more damage to the environment than climate change is already causing,” said NEFSA officer Dustin Delano, a commercial fisherman from Friendship, Maine. 

NEFSA has since posted signs where the island causeway intersects with the heavily trafficked Route 1 that read, “Keep Sears Island wild.” Similar signs showing a crossed-out wind turbine bore the name of Rhode Island-based Green Oceans. Since its founding in 2022, it has focused mostly on opposing Revolution Wind, currently under construction in waters between Rhode Island and Connecticut. 

Many who joined the recent birding trip seemed unaware that Maine’s plans for Sears Island did not involve actually erecting turbines there or close to shore. Others expressed doubts about wind generally. Some did not want to discuss the issue at all, focusing instead on peering through binoculars at the Northern parula, black-throated green warbler, or hermit thrush chirping in the trees along the road. 

A few people mentioned concerns that wind projects could harm whales. Scientists have found no evidence to support this claim, which has been linked to fossil fuel-funded disinformation campaigns. Green Oceans’ campaigns in Rhode Island have mimicked the delay and disinformation strategies of climate denialist groups like the Texas Public Policy Foundation, according to Brown University research

A group of people sit in a room at a table and a man speaks on his feet.
From left: Searsport, Maine, town manager James Gillway, Rhode Island-based union electrician Nicki Kent, Maine Labor Climate Council executive director Scott Cuddy, and Maine AFL-CIO apprenticeships director Sam Boss and Vice President Grant Provost speak at an offshore wind jobs-focused event in Searsport on May 14. Annie Ropeik / Energy News Network

The threat of climate change to ecosystems like Sears Island’s, meanwhile, is very real. The Gulf of Maine is one of the fastest-warming water bodies in the world, swelling sea levels, threatening the lobster fishery and leading to more frequent, destructive storms. Maine saw a state-record four federal disaster declarations in 2023 and has received two more already this year. 

The warming trend may affect the migratory birds that draw crowds to Sears Island each year. Warming temperatures are reshaping the length and timing of Maine’s seasons, which, combined with declines in insect populations driven by agriculture and other factors, could threaten the birds’ success, studies show. 

“If you look at decades and decades of patterns, you’ll see that birds are arriving one to two weeks earlier,” said William Broussard, a Midcoast Audubon board member who led the recent Sears Island trip. “If they get here early, they might not have the insects that they depend on to be out, because maybe the trees aren’t leafing out … and that can be really tough.” 

Midcoast Audubon hasn’t taken a position on the wind port issue. It’s a chapter of Maine Audubon, which separately supports the project. Maine Audubon is likewise independent from the National Audubon Society, which advocates for “responsibly sited renewable energy,” including wind, as a climate solution.

A cracked asphalt road bisects a green forest.
The paved road that bisects Sears Island, seen on July 5, is used for walking, jogging, and biking. Annie Ropeik / Energy News Network

Marge Stickler, a birder from Belfast, said she wished the port would be built at Mack Point instead. “I have mixed feelings about what they’re doing here,” she said. “I love coming here … It’s a special place.” 

She had read an opinion piece earlier this year by activist Bill McKibben, founder of the climate groups 350.org and Third Act, that urged Mainers to support the wind port even on Sears Island. McKibben wrote for Mother Jones last year that solving climate change will require a new “yes in my backyard” mindset. 

“McKibben wrote that you have to look at the climate as a whole, and this may be a good thing to have here,” Stickler said. “I’m not sure — why did he write that for Maine, he lives in Vermont — but … he said it’s better to have it and it’s better to have it here, maybe.” 

Dave Andrews, a retired engineer from South Bristol, Maine, struck a different tone as he trailed after the other birders. He’d worked on Superfund cleanups and brownfield solar projects in his career, and said he’d often heard “not in my backyard” sentiments from neighbors who were worried about viewshed impacts or a change in a place’s character. 

“If it’s a Walmart shopping center, I guess you have a valid statement,” he said. “But when it comes to something like this, this is a different balance.” 

Andrews called the port’s siting a “terrible dilemma.” But he felt swayed by the urgency of climate change and the fact that the project would leave much of Sears Island intact. As permitting and siting progress in the coming months, he said he hoped others who love the island would be able to accept the sacrifice.

“I don’t think there is a choice,” he said.

This story was originally published by Grist with the headline The siting of an offshore wind port raises new conflicts in Maine on Jul 15, 2024.

Read the full story here.
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K-Pop Fans' Environmental Activism Comes to UN Climate Talks

K-pop is turning up in force at the United Nations climate talks in Brazil, with fans-turned-activists hosting protest and events to mobilize their millions-strong online community to back concrete climate actions

BELEM, Brazil (AP) — Fans of K-pop have an intensity that's turned the music into a global phenomenon. Some are determined to channel that energy into action on climate change.Meanwhile, panels attended by high-ranking South Korean officials during the talks, known as COP30, strategized on how to mobilize the K-pop fanbase.“It’s the first time K-pop fans have been introduced on a COP stage — not bands or artists — but fans,” said Cheulhong Kim, director of the Korean Cultural Center in Brazil, a branch of South Korea's Ministry of Culture, Sports and Tourism. “K-pop fans are the real protagonists behind this culture that has the power to shape social and political issues."While attending a K-pop event at COP30, South Korea's Minister of Climate, Energy and Environment Kim Seong-hwan told The Associated Press that his ministry “will support K-pop fans and their artists so that K-pop can contribute to tackling the climate crisis.” K-pop on the climate front Banners reading “Export K-pop, not fossil fuels” filled part of the main hall at COP30 on Monday, as activists demanded South Korea cut its funding for foreign fossil fuel development.Seokhwan Jeong, who organized the protest with the Seoul-based advocacy group, Solutions for Our Climate, alluded to a storyline from the demon hunters movie with a character leading a double life, hiding a secret.“South Korea must overcome its dual stance — championing coal phase-out on the global stage while supporting fossil-fuel finance behind the scenes,” Jeong said. “It is time for the country to stop hiding and become a genuine climate champion.”When organized, the fan base is a force to be reckoned with because of its size and intense loyalty, said Gyu Tag Lee, a professor at George Mason University Korea who studies the cultural impact of K-pop.Dayeon Lee, a campaigner with KPOP4PLANET, believes “cultural power is driving real climate action.”“Our love extends beyond artists," Lee said. “We care for each other across fandoms and borders. We are young people facing the same future, fluent in social media, keen to respond to injustice.”The K-pop activism aligns with the Brazilian Portuguese concept of “mutirão” — a spirit of collective effort — that the COP30 Presidency is using as a rallying cry on the problem of climate change, according to Vinicius Gurtler, general coordinator for international affairs in Brazil’s Ministry of Culture.More than 80 countries have voiced support for the “mutirão” call in what environmentalists have said “could be the turning point of COP30.”“One of the best ways for us to do this is through music and through the youth," Gurtler said. "I don’t think that we will create a better planet if we cannot sing and if we cannot imagine a better world."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.This story was produced as part of the 2025 Climate Change Media Partnership, a journalism fellowship organized by Internews’ Earth Journalism Network and the Stanley Center for Peace and Security.Copyright 2025 The Associated Press. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten or redistributed.Photos You Should See – Nov. 2025

Costa Rica Environmentalists Face Rising Threats and Harassment

Environmental activists in Costa Rica continue to face escalating threats, harassment, and legal intimidation as they challenge projects that harm ecosystems. Groups report a systematic pattern of repression, including public stigmatization, digital attacks, and abusive lawsuits meant to exhaust resources and silence opposition. In Puntarenas, billboards have appeared labeling local defenders as “persona non grata,” […] The post Costa Rica Environmentalists Face Rising Threats and Harassment appeared first on The Tico Times | Costa Rica News | Travel | Real Estate.

Environmental activists in Costa Rica continue to face escalating threats, harassment, and legal intimidation as they challenge projects that harm ecosystems. Groups report a systematic pattern of repression, including public stigmatization, digital attacks, and abusive lawsuits meant to exhaust resources and silence opposition. In Puntarenas, billboards have appeared labeling local defenders as “persona non grata,” a form of symbolic violence that isolates activists in their communities. Similar tactics include online campaigns spreading disinformation and gendered threats, particularly against women who speak out against coastal developments or illegal logging. Legal actions add another layer of pressure. Developers have sued content creators for posting videos that question the environmental impact of tourism projects, claiming defamation or false information. Organizations identify these as SLAPP suits—strategic lawsuits against public participation—designed to drain time and money through lengthy court processes rather than seek genuine redress. In recent cases, bank accounts have been frozen, forcing individuals to halt their work. The Federation for Environmental Conservation (FECON), Bloque Verde, and other groups link these incidents to broader institutional changes. The State of the Nation Report released this month documents sustained weakening of environmental bodies. Budget cuts and staff reductions at the Ministry of Environment and Energy (MINAE) and the National System of Conservation Areas (SINAC) have left larger protected areas with fewer resources. Policy shifts concentrate decision-making power while reducing scientific and community input. Activists argue this dismantling exposes water sources, forests, and biodiversity to greater risks. They point to rapid coastal development in areas like Guanacaste, where unplanned tourism strains wetlands and mangroves. Indigenous communities and rural defenders face added vulnerabilities, with reports of death threats tied to land recovery efforts. These pressures coincide with debates over resource extraction and regulatory rollbacks. Environmental organizations stress that protecting nature supports public health, jobs in sustainable tourism, and democratic rights. They maintain that freedom of expression and participation remain essential for holding projects accountable. Without stronger safeguards for defenders and reversal of institutional decline, groups warn that Costa Rica risks undermining its conservation achievements. They call for protocols to address threats, anti-SLAPP measures, and renewed commitment to environmental governance. Defending ecosystems, they say, equals defending the country’s future stability and justice. The post Costa Rica Environmentalists Face Rising Threats and Harassment appeared first on The Tico Times | Costa Rica News | Travel | Real Estate.

Is AI being shoved down your throat at work? Here’s how to fight back.

Your Mileage May Vary is an advice column offering you a unique framework for thinking through your moral dilemmas. It’s based on value pluralism, the idea that each of us has multiple values that are equally valid but that often conflict with each other. To submit a question, fill out this anonymous form. Here’s this week’s question from a […]

Is it possible to fight against the integration of AI in the workplace? Your Mileage May Vary is an advice column offering you a unique framework for thinking through your moral dilemmas. It’s based on value pluralism, the idea that each of us has multiple values that are equally valid but that often conflict with each other. To submit a question, fill out this anonymous form. Here’s this week’s question from a reader, condensed and edited for clarity. I’m an AI engineer working at a medium-sized ad agency, mostly on non-generative machine learning models (think ad performance prediction, not ad creation). Lately, it feels like people, specifically senior and mid-level managers who do not have engineering experience, are pushing the adoption and development of various AI tools. Honestly, it feels like an unthinking melee. I consider myself a conscientious objector to the use of AI, especially generative AI; I’m not fully opposed to it, but I constantly ask who actually benefits from the application of AI and what its financial, human, and environmental costs are beyond what is right in front of our noses. Yet, as a rank-and-file employee, I find myself with no real avenue to relay those concerns to people who have actual power to decide. Worse, I feel that even voicing such concerns, admittedly running against the almost blind optimism that I assume affects most marketing companies, is turning me into a pariah in my own workplace. So my question is this: Considering the difficulty of finding good jobs in AI, is it “worth it” trying to encourage critical AI use in my company, or should I tone it down if only to keep paying the bills? Dear Conscientious Objector, You’re definitely not alone in hating the uncritical rollout of generative AI. Lots of people hate it, from artists, to coders, to students. I bet there are people in your own company who hate it, too. But they’re not speaking up — and, of course, there’s a reason for that: They’re afraid to lose their jobs. Honestly, it’s a fair concern. And it’s the reason why I’m not going to advise you to stick your neck out and fight this crusade alone. If you as an individual object to your company’s AI use, you become legible to the company as a “problem” employee. There could be consequences to that, and I don’t want to see you lose your paycheck.  But I also don’t want to see you lose your moral integrity. You’re absolutely right to constantly ask who actually benefits from the unthinking application of AI and whether the benefits outweigh the costs.  So, I think you should fight for what you believe in — but fight as part of a collective. The real question here is not, “Should you voice your concerns about AI or stay quiet?” It’s, “How can you build solidarity with others who want to be part of a resistance movement with you?” Teaming up is both safer for you as an employee and more likely to have an impact. “The most important thing an individual can do is be somewhat less of an individual,” the environmentalist Bill McKibben once said. “Join together with others in movements large enough to have some chance at changing those political and economic ground rules that keep us locked on this current path.” Now, you know what word I’m about to say next, right? Unionize. If your workplace can be organized, that’ll be a key strategy for allowing you to fight AI policies you disagree with. If you need a bit of inspiration, look at what some labor unions have already achieved — from the Writers Guild of America, which won important protections around AI for Hollywood writers, to the Service Employees International Union, which negotiated with Pennsylvania’s governor to create a worker board overseeing the implementation of generative AI in government services. Meanwhile, this year saw thousands of nurses marching in the streets as National Nurses United pushed for the right to determine how AI does and doesn’t get used in patient interactions. “There’s a whole range of different examples where unions have been able to really be on the front foot in setting the terms for how AI gets used — and whether it gets used at all,” Sarah Myers West, co-executive director of the AI Now Institute, told me recently. If it’s too hard to get a union off the ground at your workplace, there are plenty of organizations you can join forces with. Check out the Algorithmic Justice League or Fight for the Future, which push for equitable and accountable tech. There are also grassroots groups like Stop Gen AI, which aims to organize both a resistance movement and a mutual aid program to help those who’ve lost work due to the AI rollout. You can also consider hyperlocal efforts, which have the benefit of creating community. One of the big ways those are showing up right now is in the fight against the massive buildout of energy-hungry data centers meant to power the AI boom.  “It’s where we have seen many people fighting back in their communities — and winning,” Myers West told me. “They’re fighting on behalf of their own communities, and working collectively and strategically to say, ‘We’re being handed a really raw deal here. And if you [the companies] are going to accrue all the benefits from this technology, you need to be accountable to the people on whom it’s being used.’” Already, local activists have blocked or delayed $64 billion worth of data center projects across the US, according to a study by Data Center Watch, a project run by AI research firm 10a Labs. Yes, some of those data centers may eventually get built anyway. Yes, fighting the uncritical adoption of AI can sometimes feel like you’re up against an undefeatable behemoth. But it helps to preempt discouragement if you take a step back to think about what it really looks like when social change is happening. In a new book, Somebody Should Do Something, three philosophers — Michael Brownstein, Alex Madva, and Daniel Kelly — show how anyone can help create social change. The key, they argue, is to realize that when we join forces with others, our actions can lead to butterfly effects:  Minor actions can set off cascades that lead, in a surprisingly short time, to major structural outcomes. This reflects a general feature of complex systems. Causal effects in such systems don’t always build on each other in a smooth or continuous way. Sometimes they build nonlinearly, allowing seemingly small events to produce disproportionately large changes.  The authors explain that, because society is a complex system, your actions aren’t a meaningless “drop in the bucket.” Adding water to a bucket is linear; each drop has equal impact. Complex systems behave more like heating water: Not every degree has the same effect, and the shift from 99°C to 100°C crosses a tipping point that triggers a phase change.  We all know the boiling point of water, but we don’t know the tipping point for changes in the social world. That means it’s going to be hard for you to tell, at any given moment, how close you are to creating a cascade of change. But that doesn’t mean change is not happening.  According to Harvard political scientist Erica Chenoweth’s research, if you want to achieve systemic social change, you need to mobilize 3.5 percent of the population around your cause. Though we have not yet seen AI-related protests on that scale, we do have data indicating the potential for a broad base. A full 50 percent of Americans are more concerned than excited about the rise of AI in daily life, according to a recent survey from the Pew Research Center. And 73 percent support robust regulation of AI, according to the Future of Life Institute.  So, even though you might feel alone in your workplace, there are people out there who share your concerns. Find your teammates. Come up with a positive vision for the future of tech. Then, fight for the future you want. Bonus: What I’m reading Microsoft’s announcement that it wants to build “humanist superintelligence” caught my eye. Whether you think that’s an oxymoron or not, I take it as a sign that at least some of the powerful players hear us when we say we want AI that solves real concrete problems for real flesh-and-blood people — not some fanciful AI god.  The Economist article “Meet the real screen addicts: the elderly” is so spot-on. When it comes to digital media, everyone is always worrying about The Youth, but I think not enough research has been devoted to the elderly, who are often positively glued to their devices.  Hallelujah, some AI researchers are finally adopting a pragmatic approach to the whole, “Can AI be conscious?” debate! I’ve long suspected that “conscious” is a pragmatic tool we use as a way of saying, “This thing should be in our moral circle,” so whether AI is conscious isn’t something we’ll discover — it’s something we’ll decide. 

Yurok tribal attorney chronicles family’s fight to save the Klamath River and a way of life

"Treat the earth, not as a resource, but as a relative," said Ashland resident Amy Bowers Cordalis, who has written a memoir about her family's generations-long efforts for the river that now flows freely.

As a University of Oregon student focused on politics and the environment, Amy Bowers Cordalis had every right to feel defeated in 2002 when she returned home and saw evidence of the largest salmon kill in the Klamath River.The lifelong fisherwoman and member of the Yurok Tribe learned the cause was avoidable: A federal order diverted water just as salmon were spawning. For generations, destructive dams, logging, mining and development had already impacted the ecosystem of the Klamath River, which once had the third largest salmon runs in all of the lower continental United States. Cordalis, then 22, decided to change course while she was in her boat, surveying the depth of the salmon die off.Now 45, the Ashland attorney, activist and environmental defender serves on the front lines of conservation. As lead lawyer for the Yurok Tribe, she was present at the signing of the agreement that in 2024 resulted in the Klamath River flowing freely from southern Oregon to Northern California for the first time in a century.The dismantling of four hydroelectric dams that had impacted ancestral lands, altered the ecology, degraded the water quality and disrupted once-prolific salmon runs is considered the world’s largest dam removal project.A month after the last dam was demolished, thousands of salmon, a cornerstone species for overall ecological health, began repopulating. “The salmon have come home,” Cordalis said. “We are starting to move back into balance.”In her just-released memoir, “The Water Remembers: My Indigenous Family’s Fight to Save a River and a Way of Life,” Cordalis tells the story of her family’s multigenerational struggle to protect the Klamath River and their legal successes to preserve the Yurok people’s sustainable relationship with nature. In 1973, her great-uncle Aawok Raymond Mattz forced the landmark Supreme Court case reaffirming the Yurok Tribe’s rights to land, water, fish and sovereignty. Cordalis devotes a chapter of her memoir to her great-grandmother Geneva’s protests in the 1970s, inspired by the Civil Rights movement, to end the Salmon Wars, the government’s crackdowns on tribal fishing rights.In 2019, Cordalis led the effort for the Yurok people to declare personhood rights for the Klamath River. For the first time, a North American river has legal right to flourish, free from human-caused climate change impacts and contamination.She also worked for the Yurok people to recover 73 square miles along the eastern side of the lower Klamath River, now known as Blue Creek Salmon Sanctuary and Yurok Tribal Community Forest.The area, logged for a century, was acquired over time by the environmental nonprofit Western Rivers Conservancy for $56 million. The transfer to the Yurok people in June is the largest single “land back” deal in California history.Cordalis continues to litigate to protect the rights of Indigenous people and the natural and cultural resources that are part of their identity and sovereignty. That includes salmon. She still works to save coho salmon, a listed Endangered Species Act species on the Klamath River. Through her former work as Yurok general counsel and an attorney at the Native American Rights Fund, and since 2020 as the executive director of the Ridges to Riffles Indigenous Conservation Group, Cordalis’ message is clear: Respect the earth. Listen to the rivers, protect the land.Treat the earth, Cordalis said, not as a resource, but as a relative. Changing courseAmy Bowers Cordalis and her siblings gillnet fishing at Brooks Riffle, Klamath River, 2023Little, Brown and CompanyIn 2002, Cordalis spent her summer break from college interning for Yurok Fisheries Department near her family’s ancestral home in the Northern California village of Rek-Woi.That September, she witnessed the salmon kill. Water diverted upstream to farmers and ranchers by federal orders had lowered the river flows, increased the water temperature and allowed diseases to spread to spawning salmon.Cordalis saw the salmon kill as ecocide, the end of a way of life for the Yurok people and destruction of their principles of respect, responsibility and reciprocity with all of creation. She vowed to fight through the courts, as her family had in the past. She earned a law degree at the University of Denver’s Sturm College of Law and became the Yurok Tribe’s general counsel.In 2020, she and other representatives of Native American communities with historic ties to the Klamath River faced the owner of the four hydroelectric dams: Berkshire Hathaway, one of the biggest and best known U.S. conglomerates.Its subsidiary, Berkshire Hathaway Energy, owns PacifiCorp, which operated the four Klamath River dams.The Indigenous-led coalition told the energy holding company’s executives they would never stop fighting for the river’s restoration. The meeting took place at Blue Creek, one of the most important tributaries on the Lower Klamath River and a salmon sanctuary with spiritual significance, recently returned to the Yurok Tribe.The coalition handed the executives a document that outlined the key terms and conditions of their proposed agreement. They talked about their proposal and then let the river speak for itself, according to Cordalis.The next business day, both parties were in discussion. In the end, the $550 million agreement to dismantle the aging dams cost less than it would to upgrade them to meet modern environmental standards.Cordalis said that the dam removal, one of the largest nature-based solution projects in the world thus far, can be replicated for environmental and economic gain.“When we choose to work together toward sustainability, we can create different outcomes that are better for the planet, better for people,” Cordalis said. “We don’t have to accept that the only path to prosperity is industrializing nature,” she said. “We can adjust our practices, find nature-based solutions” and continue to enjoy a modern lifestyle, while working to heal nature.This is a historic time, she said.“We are at a tipping point and what we do matters,” she said. Clean air and water, and natural, nutritious food are needed for life to survive.Ripple effects Cordalis’ work and motivations are captured in the 2024 Patagonia Films documentary, “Undammed: Amy Bowers Cordalis and the fight to free the Klamath,” which plays on a screen inside the Yurok Country Visitor Center in downtown Klamath, a small coastal city in California.Cordalis has been recognized by various groups for her involvement with the largest river restoration project in history. She received the United Nation’s highest environmental honor, UN Champion of the Earth, and was named 2024 Time magazine’s 100 most influential climate leaders. In October, she was announced as one of 10 change makers in the 20th L’Oreal Paris Women of Worth philanthropic program.The $25,000 award, given for her climate action work that fuses law, policy and Indigenous knowledge, will help Ridges to Riffles Indigenous Conservation Group, the nonprofit she co-founded in 2022 with Karuk Tribal member Molli Myers, continue to work on life-changing restoration projects. “The L’Oreal Paris Woman of Worth award is a tremendous opportunity because it will uplift our work and expand our partnerships,” Cordalis said. “The power of being in partnership, collaborating and combining resources and efforts, expands and strengthens the scope of all of our work.”She said one of her greatest joys is hearing about people restoring nature in their community and the worldwide “ripple effects” of those efforts.Cordalis titled her book “The Water Remembers” because the river and people remember the salmon. “We have ancestral knowledge about what it was like to live on a healthy planet,” she said. When the Klamath River’s ecosystem started collapsing, “that put us into this culture of scarcity,” she said. “Rebuilding ecosystem resiliency lets us recover from the colonial period and move toward a culture of abundance.”Today, tribal members are restoring the Klamath River’s almost 400 miles of historic salmon spawning habitat. Revegetation efforts include hand planting native seeds, trees, shrubs and grasses. “When we rebuild salmon runs, we help the ocean, the river, humans and all the creatures who are dependent upon the salmon,” Cordalis said.She writes in her book that the Yurok people are observing the river healing by spending time on it, listening to it.“And when we start using nature-based solutions to restore ecosystems those solutions work their magic,” she said, “and the salmon come home in a blink of an eye.”If you purchase a product or register for an account through a link on our site, we may receive compensation. 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COP30 has big plans to save the rainforest. Indigenous activists say it’s not enough

“We need the government to recognize our climate authority and our role as guardians of biodiversity.”

On Friday, at least 100 Indigenous protestors blocked the entrance to the 30th Annual United Nations Climate Change Conference, or COP30, in Belém, Brazil. The action comes on the heels of an action earlier this week when hundreds of Indigenous peoples marched into the conference, clashing with security, and pushing their way through metal detectors while calling on negotiators to protect their lands. These actions brought Indigenous voices to the front steps of this year’s global climate summit — where discussions now, and historically, have generally excluded Indigenous peoples and perspectives. World leaders have attempted to acknowledge this omission: Brazil’s president Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva said Indigenous voices should “inspire” COP30, and the host country announced two new plans to protect tropical forests and enshrine Indigenous people’s land rights. But demonstrations like this week’s show even these measures are designed with little input from those affected, garnering criticism. Preserving the Amazon rainforest is critical to mitigating climate change and protecting biodiversity. How this is done is one of the key issues being raised at COP30. Upon the kickoff of the conference, Brazil announced the Tropical Forests Forever Facility, or TFFF, part of a plan to create new financial incentives to protect tropical forest lands in as many as 74 countries, including its own.  The Tropical Forests Forever Facility has been touted as one of Brazil’s new marquee policies for combating the climate crisis. It also potentially represents an opportunity for Brazil to position itself as a leader on environmental conservation and Indigenous rights. The country has had a historically poor track record on rainforest conservation: By some estimates, 13 percent of the original Amazon forest has been lost to deforestation. In Brazil, much of that happens because of industrial agriculture — specifically, cattle ranching and soy production. Research has shown 70 percent of Amazon land cleared is used for cattle pastures. Brazil is the world’s lead exporter of beef and soy, with China as its top consumer for both products.  The TFFF marks an attempt to flip the economics of extractive industry — by paying governments every year their deforestation rate is 0.5 percent or lower. It also attempts to highlight the role Indigenous communities already play in stewarding these lands, although critics say it does not go far enough on either goal.  Under the TFFF, which will be hosted by the World Bank, Brazil seeks to raise $25 billion in investments from other countries as well as philanthropic organizations — and then take that money and grow it four-fold in the bond market. The goal is to create a $125 billion investment fund to be used to reward governments for preserving their standing tropical forest lands. One condition of receiving this funding is that governments must then pass on 20 percent to Indigenous people and local communities. Security personnel clash with Indigenous people and students as they storm the venue during COP30 in Belem, Para State, Brazil, on November 11, 2025. Olga Leiria / AFP via Getty Images The idea underlying the fund is that the TFFF could make leaving tropical forests alone more financially lucrative than tearing them down. In the global climate finance market, there aren’t currently any mechanisms that value “tropical forests and rainforests as the global public good that they are,” said Toerris Jaeger, director of the Rainforest Foundation Norway. These ecosystems “need to be maintained and maintained standing and that is what TFFF does,” he added. But critics say that TFFF merely represents another attempt to tie the value of these critical ecosystems to financial markets. “You cannot put a price on a conserved forest because life cannot be measured, and the Amazon is life for the thousands of beings who inhabit it and depend on it to exist,” said Toya Manchineri, an Indigenous leader from the Manchineri people of Brazil. Manchineri is also the general coordinator of the Coordination of Indigenous Organizations of the Brazilian Amazon. He added that setting aside 20 percent of TFFF funds for Indigenous communities is a good start, but that figure could be much higher.  Other COP30 attendees have criticized the plan for trying to fight the profit-driven industries that lead to deforestation with a profit motive. “The TFFF isn’t a climate proposal, but it’s another false solution to the planetary crises of biodiversity loss, forest loss, and climate collapse,” said Mary Lou Malig, policy director of the Global Forest Coalition. “It’s another way to profit off the problems that these same actors like the big banks and powerful governments and corporations actually created.”  But the performance of the TFFF is contingent on market fluctuations, risk, and the global economy’s health each year. How much governments — and Indigenous peoples — receive each year depends on how well the market does that year.  Manchineri added that the global climate policy to protect tropical forests should do more to recognize the role that Indigenous peoples play in defending it from illegal land grabs that drive deforestation. These communities “will continue to protect” the rainforest, said Manchineri, “with or without a fund. But we need the government to recognize our climate authority and our role as guardians of biodiversity.”  Prior to COP30, Brazil and nine other tropical countries joined the Intergovernmental Land Tenure Commitment, or ILTC, a global initiative to recognize Indigenous land tenure and rights to defend against deforestation and provide a potential backstop on the ground to support efforts like the TFFF. According to Juan Carlos Jintiach, the executive secretary of the Global Alliance of Territorial Communities, this commitment and the accompanying $1.8 billion Forest and Land Tenure Pledge that will support these land recognition efforts are “most welcome.” However, meaningful progress among participating countries entails establishing monitoring instruments that account for and ensure Indigenous peoples see the funds and see their rights recognized.  “We cannot have climate adaptation, climate mitigation, or climate justice without territorial land rights and the recognition and demarcation of indigenous territory,” said Zimyl Adler, a senior policy advocate on forests, land, and climate finance at Friends of the Earth U.S.  But evidence of that recognition is scarce. Under the Paris Agreement, signatory states are required to submit climate action plans called Nationally Determined Contributions, or NDCs. A recent report from global experts that reviewed NDCs from 85 countries found that only 20 of those countries referenced the rights of Indigenous peoples and that only five mentioned Free, Prior, and Informed Consent — an international consultation principle that allows Indigenous Peoples to provide, withhold, or withdraw their consent at any time in projects that impact their communities or territories.  “It was a real missed opportunity to strengthen those commitments to land rights and tenure,” said Kate Dooley, a researcher at the University of Melbourne and an author of the Land Gap report.  As the conference will continue for another week, the protests have raised questions about the distinction between climate talks and action, and whether this year’s COP will translate into the latter for Indigenous communities who see deforestation and weak land tenure rights as immediate threats to their lives and homes.  “We don’t eat money. We want our territory free,” said Cacique Gilson, a Tupinmbá leader who participated in one protest. “But the business of oil exploration, mineral exploitation, and logging continues.”  This story was originally published by Grist with the headline COP30 has big plans to save the rainforest. Indigenous activists say it’s not enough on Nov 14, 2025.

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