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Electric vehicles need cobalt. Congolese miners work in dangerous conditions to get it.

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Sunday, June 2, 2024

This story was originally published by CapitalB. The story of  “John Doe 1” of the Democratic Republic of the Congo is tucked in a lawsuit filed five years ago against several U.S. tech companies, including Tesla, the world’s largest electric vehicle producer. In a country where the Earth hides its treasures beneath its surface, those who chip away at its bounty pay an unfair price. As a pre-teen, his family could no longer afford to pay his $6 monthly school fee, leaving him with one option: a life working underground in a tunnel, digging for cobalt rocks.  But soon after he began working for roughly 2 U.S. dollars per day, the child was buried alive under the rubble of a collapsed mine tunnel. His body was never recovered.  The nation, fractured by war, disease, and famine, has seen more than 6 million people die since the mid-1990s, making its conflict the deadliest since World War II. But, in recent years, the death and destruction have been aided by the growing number of electric vehicles humming down American streets. In 2022, the U.S., the world’s third-largest importer of cobalt, spent nearly $525 million on the mineral, much of which came from the Congo. As America’s dependence on the Congo has grown, Black-led labor and environmental organizers here in the U.S. have worked to build a transnational solidarity movement. Activists also say that the inequities faced in the Congo relate to those that Black Americans experience. And thanks in part to social media, the desire to better understand what’s happening in the Congo has grown in the past 10 years. In some ways, the Black Lives Matter movement first took root in the Congo after the uprising in Ferguson in 2014, advocates say. And since the murder of George Floyd and the outrage over the Gaza war, there has been an uptick in Congolese and Black American groups working on solidarity campaigns. Throughout it all, the inequities faced by Congolese people and Black Americans show how the supply chain highlights similar patterns of exploitation and disenfranchisement. Bakari Height, the transit equity organizer at the Labor Network for Sustainability, says the global harm caused by the energy transition and the inability of Black Americans to participate in it at home are for a simple reason.  “We’re always on the menu, but we’re never at the table,” he said. “The space of transportation planning and climate change is mostly white people, or people of color that aren’t Black, so these discussions about exploitation aren’t happening in those spaces — it is almost like a second form of colonialism.” Morehouse College professors Samuel Livingston and Cynthia Hewitt unfurled a Congolese flag behind President Joe Biden as he gave his commencement address at the school on May 19. Elijah Nouvelage/Getty Images Height said, however, when Black people are in the room, these conversations are not only more prevalent, but also more action-oriented. His organization supports Black workers and helps craft policies that support “bold climate action in ways that address labor concerns without sacrificing what science is telling us is necessary.” While the American South has picked up about two-thirds of the electric vehicle production jobs, Black workers there are more likely to work in non-unionized warehouses, receiving less pay and protections. The White House has also failed to share data that definitively proves whether Black workers are receiving these jobs, rather than them just being placed near Black communities.  “Automakers are moving their EV manufacturing and operations to the South in hopes of exploiting low labor costs and making higher profits,” explained Yterenickia Bell, an at-large council member in Clarkston, Georgia, last year. While Georgia has been targeted for investment by the Biden administration, workers are “refusing to stand idly by and let them repeat a cycle that harms Black communities and working families.” Solidarity activism reached a national stage last week at the Morehouse College graduation ceremony, when professors at the school sent clear messages to President Joe Biden. Samuel Livingston and Cynthia Hewitt unfurled a Congolese flag as Biden gave his speech. And Dr. Taura Taylor, wearing a DRC pin on her cap, stood up, raised her fist and turned her back to the president. Yet, less publicized has been the work of Congolese and Black American groups building bridges, including the Congo Initiative based in the Congo and the D.C.-based group Friends of the Congo. Friends of the Congo has worked on several educational campaigns at home, brought Black Americans to the Congo for activism trips, and offered regular support to Congolese youth leaders.  The work is sorely needed, as “John Doe 1’s” story has only become more common in the country.  Roughly 75 percent of the world’s reserves of cobalt, the precious mineral with a sometimes reddish, teal, or violet tint needed for cellphones, laptops, and electric car batteries, lie under the chalky surface.  On average, an electric vehicle battery requires 30 pounds of cobalt, meaning millions of tons of the mineral is needed for America’s EV boom, which will continue to push thousands of Black women, men, and children into pits and tunnels. In the U.S., these battery packs range from around $7,000 to nearly $30,000, while Congolese miners make mere dollars for mining most of the material found in them.  “The country,” explained Maurice Carney, executive director of Friends of the Congo, “was designed for extraction, not development.”  Read Next Ignoring Indigenous rights is making the green transition more expensive Anita Hofschneider “Cobalt mining is the slave farm perfected” Of the 255,000 Congolese citizens mining for cobalt, 40,000 are children. They are not only exposed to physical threats but environmental ones. Cobalt mining pollutes critical water sources, plus the air and land. It is linked to respiratory illnesses, food insecurity, and violence.  Still, in March, a U.S. court ruled on the case, finding that American companies could not be held liable for child labor in the Congo, even as they helped intensify the prevalence.  Companies operating in the country are “primarily concerned about their own welfare, filling their own pockets. They’re not really concerned about the welfare of the Congolese people,” Carney said earlier this year.  Carney, a former research consultant for the Congressional Black Caucus Foundation, has spent years pointing out the link between the Congolese and Black American struggles.   “What we say to people is that in a country that’s so critical to the future of the planet, a country that we’re all connected to through our cellphones and iPads or electric vehicles — even if you’re in California, you’re connected to the Congo,” he said.  “Congolese women have the highest metallic content in the body in the world because they’re digging in the soil to get those minerals,” he added. People work at the Shabara mine near Kolwez, Democratic Republic of the Congo, in 2022. At that time, some 20,000 people worked at Shabara, in shifts of 5,000 at a time. Junior Kannah/AFP via Getty Images Similarly, in the U.S., as poor birth outcomes have been linked to higher exposure to pollutants, pregnant Black women are more likely to live in poor-quality environments compared to white women. Cobalt accounts for as much as 60 percent of the batteries that drive our lives because the mineral possesses a unique electron configuration that allows the battery to remain stable at higher energy densities. This means cobalt-heavy batteries can hold more charge.  While there has been a push to use alternative minerals in electric batteries, most other options are unstable and unsafe for the user. Some experts have argued that the U.S. should turn its attention to Canada, which is among the top five countries producing cobalt and the only nation in the Western Hemisphere with deposits of all the minerals required to make next-generation electric batteries. But it is a more costly venture that, to this point, has yet to make waves in the U.S.  In the interim, no one knows how many women, men, and children have been killed in the Congolese operations, but the tally, which is likely to be thousands of lives per year, is expected to rise, researchers believe. In the coming years, it is estimated that more than half of the world’s cobalt will be used just for EVs. The federally subsidized push to increase electric vehicle production by 2030 calls for a 15-fold increase in battery production. Already, the nation’s imports of cobalt increased by 35 percent from 2021 to 2022.  Still, the U.S. has been slow to acknowledge its role.  In a February White House press briefing about the U.S.’ effects and efforts on the environment across the African continent, the Congo and cobalt were never mentioned. And earlier this month, Amos Hochstein, White House senior adviser for energy and investment, encouraged mining minerals in “risky” countries in the name of the clean energy transition. “We can all live in the capitals and cities around the world and say, ‘I don’t want to do business there.’ But what you are really saying is we’re not going to have an energy transition,” he said. “Because the energy transition is not going to happen if it can only be produced where I live, under my standards.” The Congo is home to more than 90 times the amount of cobalt reserves found in the U.S., where Native American tribes are being exploited for the resource. (Over two-thirds of America’s cobalt is on Native American land.)  It is one of several movements around the clean energy transition where workers and activists are highlighting how the greening of the world is coming at the expense of Black and Native lives. Recently, the push for mining in the Congo has reached new heights because of a rift in China-U.S. relations regarding EV production. Earlier this month, the Biden administration issued a 100-percent tariff on Chinese-produced EVs to deter their purchase in the U.S. Currently, China owns about 80 percent of the legal mines in the Congo, but tens of thousands of Congolese people work in “artisanal” mines outside these facilities, where there are no rules or regulations, and where the U.S. gets much of its cobalt imports.   “Cobalt mining is the slave farm perfected,” wrote Siddharth Kara last year in the award-winning investigative book Cobalt Red: How The Blood of the Congo Powers Our Lives. “It is a system of absolute exploitation for absolute profit.” While it is the world’s richest country in terms of wealth from natural resources, Congo is among the poorest in terms of life outcomes. Of the 201 countries recognized by the World Bank Group, it has the 191st lowest life expectancy. Read Next Arizona wants to mine uranium near the Grand Canyon. Tribal nations are fighting back. Taylar Dawn Stagner Dreaming of actual societal benefits The exploitation of Black workers in the Congo has contributed to some Black transit activists in the U.S. not fully supporting the transition to electric vehicles, despite the benefits for health and reducing pollution for some Black communities at home. The American Lung Association says 110,000 lives would be saved and 2.7 million childhood asthma attacks avoided by 2050 if Biden’s goals are reached and transportation pollution is lowered.  But today, although EVs do not directly emit fossil fuels, the energy generated to charge an EV mainly comes from polluting fossil fuel power plants, which are disproportionately found in Black communities. The activists say that moving toward more mass transit options would create actual societal benefits.  “We don’t all live in big cities, but mass transit is still 100 percent the better option,” Height said. “More investment in mass transit options gives us different ways and methods of looking at how we can clean up many of these systems.” While America’s dependence on cars has grown to the second highest globally, American buses, subways, and light rail lines consistently have lower ridership levels, fewer service hours, and longer waits than those in virtually every comparable country.  It is true, Height acknowledged, that electric buses still rely on cobalt, but investment in mass transit options would dramatically lower the nation’s dependence on the mineral and the need for new infrastructure. Infrastructure, he said, that is not being used. Since 2021, the federal government has doled out nearly $10 billion for public electric vehicle charging infrastructure, for example, but only four states have built stations using the money.  As it is now, EVs are also perpetuating economic inequality. Statistically, most households purchasing EVs earn more than $100,000 per year. The median Black household takes in just $46,000 annually, which could explain why only 2 percent of EV drivers are Black.  Height believes that these discrepancies show the need for other investment options. While the Biden administration has allocated more than $65 billion for electric vehicles, the nation’s biggest climate spending bill allocated just $1 billion for clean heavy-duty vehicles like buses. The investment, Height said, also “needs to come with a behavioral shift. People need to question: Do you really need a vehicle if you’re going to the same place that your neighbor is going, or the same direction as the people down the street?  “We need to do it before this next individualistic idea of you get an EV, you get an EV, and you get an EV takes root,” he argued.  This story was originally published by Grist with the headline Electric vehicles need cobalt. Congolese miners work in dangerous conditions to get it. on Jun 2, 2024.

Black activists in the U.S. are fighting the exploitation of Black resources and workers in the Congo.

This story was originally published by CapitalB.

The story of  “John Doe 1” of the Democratic Republic of the Congo is tucked in a lawsuit filed five years ago against several U.S. tech companies, including Tesla, the world’s largest electric vehicle producer.

In a country where the Earth hides its treasures beneath its surface, those who chip away at its bounty pay an unfair price. As a pre-teen, his family could no longer afford to pay his $6 monthly school fee, leaving him with one option: a life working underground in a tunnel, digging for cobalt rocks. 

But soon after he began working for roughly 2 U.S. dollars per day, the child was buried alive under the rubble of a collapsed mine tunnel. His body was never recovered. 

The nation, fractured by war, disease, and famine, has seen more than 6 million people die since the mid-1990s, making its conflict the deadliest since World War II. But, in recent years, the death and destruction have been aided by the growing number of electric vehicles humming down American streets.

In 2022, the U.S., the world’s third-largest importer of cobalt, spent nearly $525 million on the mineral, much of which came from the Congo.

As America’s dependence on the Congo has grown, Black-led labor and environmental organizers here in the U.S. have worked to build a transnational solidarity movement. Activists also say that the inequities faced in the Congo relate to those that Black Americans experience. And thanks in part to social media, the desire to better understand what’s happening in the Congo has grown in the past 10 years. In some ways, the Black Lives Matter movement first took root in the Congo after the uprising in Ferguson in 2014, advocates say. And since the murder of George Floyd and the outrage over the Gaza war, there has been an uptick in Congolese and Black American groups working on solidarity campaigns.

Throughout it all, the inequities faced by Congolese people and Black Americans show how the supply chain highlights similar patterns of exploitation and disenfranchisement.

Bakari Height, the transit equity organizer at the Labor Network for Sustainability, says the global harm caused by the energy transition and the inability of Black Americans to participate in it at home are for a simple reason. 

“We’re always on the menu, but we’re never at the table,” he said. “The space of transportation planning and climate change is mostly white people, or people of color that aren’t Black, so these discussions about exploitation aren’t happening in those spaces — it is almost like a second form of colonialism.”

Morehouse College professors Samuel Livingston and Cynthia Hewitt unfurled a Congolese flag behind President Joe Biden as he gave his commencement address at the school on May 19. Elijah Nouvelage/Getty Images

Height said, however, when Black people are in the room, these conversations are not only more prevalent, but also more action-oriented. His organization supports Black workers and helps craft policies that support “bold climate action in ways that address labor concerns without sacrificing what science is telling us is necessary.”

While the American South has picked up about two-thirds of the electric vehicle production jobs, Black workers there are more likely to work in non-unionized warehouses, receiving less pay and protections. The White House has also failed to share data that definitively proves whether Black workers are receiving these jobs, rather than them just being placed near Black communities. 

“Automakers are moving their EV manufacturing and operations to the South in hopes of exploiting low labor costs and making higher profits,” explained Yterenickia Bell, an at-large council member in Clarkston, Georgia, last year. While Georgia has been targeted for investment by the Biden administration, workers are “refusing to stand idly by and let them repeat a cycle that harms Black communities and working families.”

Solidarity activism reached a national stage last week at the Morehouse College graduation ceremony, when professors at the school sent clear messages to President Joe Biden. Samuel Livingston and Cynthia Hewitt unfurled a Congolese flag as Biden gave his speech. And Dr. Taura Taylor, wearing a DRC pin on her cap, stood up, raised her fist and turned her back to the president. Yet, less publicized has been the work of Congolese and Black American groups building bridges, including the Congo Initiative based in the Congo and the D.C.-based group Friends of the Congo.

Friends of the Congo has worked on several educational campaigns at home, brought Black Americans to the Congo for activism trips, and offered regular support to Congolese youth leaders. 

The work is sorely needed, as “John Doe 1’s” story has only become more common in the country. 

Roughly 75 percent of the world’s reserves of cobalt, the precious mineral with a sometimes reddish, teal, or violet tint needed for cellphones, laptops, and electric car batteries, lie under the chalky surface. 

On average, an electric vehicle battery requires 30 pounds of cobalt, meaning millions of tons of the mineral is needed for America’s EV boom, which will continue to push thousands of Black women, men, and children into pits and tunnels. In the U.S., these battery packs range from around $7,000 to nearly $30,000, while Congolese miners make mere dollars for mining most of the material found in them. 

“The country,” explained Maurice Carney, executive director of Friends of the Congo, “was designed for extraction, not development.” 

“Cobalt mining is the slave farm perfected”

Of the 255,000 Congolese citizens mining for cobalt, 40,000 are children. They are not only exposed to physical threats but environmental ones. Cobalt mining pollutes critical water sources, plus the air and land. It is linked to respiratory illnesses, food insecurity, and violence. 

Still, in March, a U.S. court ruled on the case, finding that American companies could not be held liable for child labor in the Congo, even as they helped intensify the prevalence. 

Companies operating in the country are “primarily concerned about their own welfare, filling their own pockets. They’re not really concerned about the welfare of the Congolese people,” Carney said earlier this year. 

Carney, a former research consultant for the Congressional Black Caucus Foundation, has spent years pointing out the link between the Congolese and Black American struggles.  

“What we say to people is that in a country that’s so critical to the future of the planet, a country that we’re all connected to through our cellphones and iPads or electric vehicles — even if you’re in California, you’re connected to the Congo,” he said. 

“Congolese women have the highest metallic content in the body in the world because they’re digging in the soil to get those minerals,” he added.

People work at the Shabara mine near Kolwez, Democratic Republic of the Congo, in 2022. At that time, some 20,000 people worked at Shabara, in shifts of 5,000 at a time. Junior Kannah/AFP via Getty Images

Similarly, in the U.S., as poor birth outcomes have been linked to higher exposure to pollutants, pregnant Black women are more likely to live in poor-quality environments compared to white women.

Cobalt accounts for as much as 60 percent of the batteries that drive our lives because the mineral possesses a unique electron configuration that allows the battery to remain stable at higher energy densities. This means cobalt-heavy batteries can hold more charge. 

While there has been a push to use alternative minerals in electric batteries, most other options are unstable and unsafe for the user. Some experts have argued that the U.S. should turn its attention to Canada, which is among the top five countries producing cobalt and the only nation in the Western Hemisphere with deposits of all the minerals required to make next-generation electric batteries. But it is a more costly venture that, to this point, has yet to make waves in the U.S. 

In the interim, no one knows how many women, men, and children have been killed in the Congolese operations, but the tally, which is likely to be thousands of lives per year, is expected to rise, researchers believe.

In the coming years, it is estimated that more than half of the world’s cobalt will be used just for EVs. The federally subsidized push to increase electric vehicle production by 2030 calls for a 15-fold increase in battery production. Already, the nation’s imports of cobalt increased by 35 percent from 2021 to 2022. 

Still, the U.S. has been slow to acknowledge its role. 

In a February White House press briefing about the U.S.’ effects and efforts on the environment across the African continent, the Congo and cobalt were never mentioned. And earlier this month, Amos Hochstein, White House senior adviser for energy and investment, encouraged mining minerals in “risky” countries in the name of the clean energy transition.

“We can all live in the capitals and cities around the world and say, ‘I don’t want to do business there.’ But what you are really saying is we’re not going to have an energy transition,” he said. “Because the energy transition is not going to happen if it can only be produced where I live, under my standards.”

The Congo is home to more than 90 times the amount of cobalt reserves found in the U.S., where Native American tribes are being exploited for the resource. (Over two-thirds of America’s cobalt is on Native American land.) 

It is one of several movements around the clean energy transition where workers and activists are highlighting how the greening of the world is coming at the expense of Black and Native lives.

Recently, the push for mining in the Congo has reached new heights because of a rift in China-U.S. relations regarding EV production. Earlier this month, the Biden administration issued a 100-percent tariff on Chinese-produced EVs to deter their purchase in the U.S.

Currently, China owns about 80 percent of the legal mines in the Congo, but tens of thousands of Congolese people work in “artisanal” mines outside these facilities, where there are no rules or regulations, and where the U.S. gets much of its cobalt imports.  

“Cobalt mining is the slave farm perfected,” wrote Siddharth Kara last year in the award-winning investigative book Cobalt Red: How The Blood of the Congo Powers Our Lives. “It is a system of absolute exploitation for absolute profit.”

While it is the world’s richest country in terms of wealth from natural resources, Congo is among the poorest in terms of life outcomes. Of the 201 countries recognized by the World Bank Group, it has the 191st lowest life expectancy.

Dreaming of actual societal benefits

The exploitation of Black workers in the Congo has contributed to some Black transit activists in the U.S. not fully supporting the transition to electric vehicles, despite the benefits for health and reducing pollution for some Black communities at home. The American Lung Association says 110,000 lives would be saved and 2.7 million childhood asthma attacks avoided by 2050 if Biden’s goals are reached and transportation pollution is lowered. 

But today, although EVs do not directly emit fossil fuels, the energy generated to charge an EV mainly comes from polluting fossil fuel power plants, which are disproportionately found in Black communities.

The activists say that moving toward more mass transit options would create actual societal benefits.

 “We don’t all live in big cities, but mass transit is still 100 percent the better option,” Height said. “More investment in mass transit options gives us different ways and methods of looking at how we can clean up many of these systems.”

While America’s dependence on cars has grown to the second highest globally, American buses, subways, and light rail lines consistently have lower ridership levels, fewer service hours, and longer waits than those in virtually every comparable country. 

It is true, Height acknowledged, that electric buses still rely on cobalt, but investment in mass transit options would dramatically lower the nation’s dependence on the mineral and the need for new infrastructure. Infrastructure, he said, that is not being used. Since 2021, the federal government has doled out nearly $10 billion for public electric vehicle charging infrastructure, for example, but only four states have built stations using the money. 

As it is now, EVs are also perpetuating economic inequality. Statistically, most households purchasing EVs earn more than $100,000 per year. The median Black household takes in just $46,000 annually, which could explain why only 2 percent of EV drivers are Black. 

Height believes that these discrepancies show the need for other investment options. While the Biden administration has allocated more than $65 billion for electric vehicles, the nation’s biggest climate spending bill allocated just $1 billion for clean heavy-duty vehicles like buses.

The investment, Height said, also “needs to come with a behavioral shift. People need to question: Do you really need a vehicle if you’re going to the same place that your neighbor is going, or the same direction as the people down the street? 

“We need to do it before this next individualistic idea of you get an EV, you get an EV, and you get an EV takes root,” he argued. 

This story was originally published by Grist with the headline Electric vehicles need cobalt. Congolese miners work in dangerous conditions to get it. on Jun 2, 2024.

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Green Activists in S. Korea Demand Tough Action on Plastic Waste at UN Talks

By Minwoo Park and Daewoung KimBUSAN, South Korea (Reuters) - Hundreds of environmental campaigners marched on Saturday in the South Korean city of...

By Minwoo Park and Daewoung KimBUSAN, South Korea (Reuters) - Hundreds of environmental campaigners marched on Saturday in the South Korean city of Busan to demand stronger global commitments to fight plastic waste at U.N. talks in the city next week.About a thousand people, including members of indigenous groups, young people and informal waste collectors, took part in the rally, the organiser said, with some carrying banners saying "Cut plastic production" and "Drastic plastic reduction now!".The activists marched around the Busan Exhibition and Convention Centre, where the fifth session of the Intergovernmental Negotiating Committee (INC-5) will take place from Monday to discuss a legally binding global agreement on plastic pollution.Debate is expected to focus on whether the deal should seek to slash production, while major producers such as Saudi Arabia and China have said in previous rounds that it should prioritise less contentious strategies, such as waste management."We are here with Greenpeace and our allies in the Break Free from Plastic movement to represent the millions of people around the world that are demanding that world leaders address plastic pollution by reducing the amount of plastic that we produce in the first place," said Graham Forbes, global plastic campaign lead at Greenpeace.People from different countries and of all ages took part in Saturday's rally and some wore elaborate, decorated hats made from discarded plastic items."It looks like the Earth, and a living creature, because I wanted to say our living creatures are being affected by plastic pollution," said Lee Kyoung-ah, 52, who was wearing a hat made of abandoned plastic buoy.Lee Min-sung, 26, said he also hoped to see changes in everyday consumer habits."I hope the culture of using 'reusables' becomes a cool, trendy movement, as that will reduce (waste) little by little," said Lee, who brought his lunch from home in a glass container."I will pick up trash more often, whenever I have time, and throw away less to save the Earth," said fourth-grader Kim Seo-yul, who flew from her home in Jeju Island to join the march.(Reporting by Minwoo Park and Daewoung Kim,; Writing by Jihoon Lee; Editing by Helen Popper)Copyright 2024 Thomson Reuters.

Mass protests against New Zealand’s effort to weaken Māori rights — and hurt the planet

"This is about the protection of all that we hold dear."

Earlier this week, tens of thousands of people converged on Aotearoa New Zealand’s Parliament in a show of solidarity against a legislative onslaught against Indigenous rights.  They had marched peacefully for nine days, in what Māori peoples call hīkoi, in an effort to stop the country’s new right-wing government from forcing through a bill that would dilute Indigenous influence on the government by reinterpreting one of its founding documents.  “Māori have been here, we are going to be here forever. You’re never going to assimilate us,” said Catherine Murupaenga-Ikenn, one of the Māori activists who participated in the hīkoi. “This is a great time for revolution.”  Proponents describe the Treaty Principles bill as a push for equal rights for all citizens of Aotearoa, which is how Māori refer to New Zealand: an effort to define principles underlying the Treaty of Waitangi, an English-language agreement signed by some of the country’s colonizing founders and Indigenous Māori that gave the Crown the right to govern the nation in exchange for enshrining Māori rights. “Did the Treaty give different rights to different groups, or does every citizen have equal rights? I believe all New Zealanders deserve to have a say on that question,” said David Seymour, a member of Parliament who leads ACT New Zealand, the country’s right-wing party. (Seymour has Māori ancestry, but leaders of his tribe do not claim him.)  But Māori opponents say the measure would weaken Indigenous rights that not only help address long standing social and economic inequities but are critical to protecting the country’s lands and waters.  “That redefinition could diminish Māori participation and environmental governance, as the treaty currently ensures that Māori involvement in managing national natural resources,” said Mike Smith, a Māori climate activist who has two climate lawsuits pending before the country’s high court. “So by limiting these rights, the bill may weaken the environmental stewardship practices that are rooted in Māori morals and values and thereby impact the country’s ability to address all the environmental challenges, and more particularly combat climate change effectively.”   Seymour pushed back on that characterization. “If it’s true no country can do conservation without something like the Treaty of Waitangi, the world is in trouble,” he said. “In any event New Zealand has had its current conception of the Treaty for over 30 years, and we are a solid, but not the best environmental regulator, so others clearly do better without something like the Treaty.” The Treaty Principles bill isn’t expected to pass in the current Parliament, although it could eventually head to a referendum. But it’s just one part of a broader right-wing backlash against the significant gains that Māori have made in recent decades to win back stolen land and secure better representation and co-governance of government agencies.  Read Next For New Zealand Māori, an uncertain future as fish move away Monica Evans “This is not just about Māori interests and rights. This is about the protection of all that we hold dear,” said Māori activist Tina Ngata who has been hosting online education sessions about the bill. “Indigenous rights have been one of the strongest roadblocks to corporate exploitation.”  Ngata was part of a successful push in 2018 to get Aotearoa New Zealand to ban oil and gas exploration in its waters. The country’s right-wing government, which vaulted into power last year, is now pushing to reverse that ban. The government wants to double its mineral mining exports to $2 billion over the next decade, and has delayed a planned tax on agricultural emissions. It also repealed the Māori Health Authority — which addresses Indigenous health disparities, many of which are expected to worsen with climate change — and is in the processes of deleting references to the Treaty of Waitangi from existing laws.  Smith said that even though his climate litigation isn’t specifically based on the treaty, it lends critical weight to his arguments regarding the government’s obligation to protect the environment.  A website promoting the Treaty Principles bill says it wouldn’t have an effect on co-governance of Aotearoa New Zealand’s rivers and mountains, such as the Tūpuna Maunga Authority that gives Māori tribes of Auckland a say in how the city’s volcanic mountains are managed. It would, however, remove Māori co-governance of the country’s water services, which has been controversial since the prior government announced plans to nationalize water management. Smith sees the measure as an effort to play upon the fears of the non-Māori population and make it easier for private interests to profit. “It’s an indicator that they want to stomp on Māori rights and philosophies and worldviews. It’s an indicator that they just are refusing to fight the challenge that climate change and the global biodiversity crisis demands of us,” he said. Read Next In the wake of historic storms, Māori leaders call for disaster relief and rights Joseph Lee But he has been heartened by the huge amount of support for the Māori cause. A video of a Māori legislator leading the haka in Parliament went viral on social media, underscoring the force of the opposition, which expands beyond Māori peoples and includes a former prime minister and prominent lawyers, health care professionals, translators, church leaders, and the Waitangi Tribunal, a federal commission dedicated to reviewing Māori claims regarding the treaty. That commission is expected to hold a hearing next week to consider the question of whether the Aotearoa New Zealand government has violated Māori rights in its response to climate change. The hearing has been overshadowed by the Treaty Principles controversy, but Smith is watching it closely. The Tribunal only has the power to make recommendations, and can’t force the government to do anything, but its findings could help strengthen Smith’s climate cases before the high court.   The debate over the treaty is complicated by the fact that the English and Māori language versions of the treaty have different meanings. Murupaenga-Ikenn emphasized that the vast majority of Māori chiefs signed the Māori-language version that never relinquished sovereignty.  Murupaenga-Ikenn said she’s been excited by how the Treaty Principles bill has spurred her people into action. She was part of a massive hīkoi 20 years ago to rally in favor of Indigenous ownership of the seabed, but last week’s gathering was far larger, with as many as 55,000 people, and activists hope it’ll bleed into more local protests and stronger voter participation.  If she saw Seymour, the ACT politician behind the bill, Murupaenga-Ikenn said she would thank him. “Thank you very much for putting a reenergized fire under my people to just shake us up and wake us up,” Murupaenga-Ikenn said. “The time is now for a revolution. Thank you, David Seymour.” This story was originally published by Grist with the headline Mass protests against New Zealand’s effort to weaken Māori rights — and hurt the planet on Nov 22, 2024.

Queensland First Nations group lodges racial discrimination complaint against Adani

Adani rejects allegations that press releases and social media posts implied members of the group were not ‘legitimate’ Aboriginal people with a connection to sacred siteGet our breaking news email, free app or daily news podcastA group of Wangan and Jagalingou First Nations people have lodged a racial discrimination complaint against coalminer Adani, alleging the company engaged in a decade-long “pattern of conduct” that included making offensive statements and social media posts.The complaint to the Australian Human Rights Commission alleges Adani breached the federal Racial Discrimination Act by attempting to block them in 2023 from accessing Doongmabulla Springs, a sacred site near the Carmichael coalmine in outback Queensland.Sign up for Guardian Australia’s breaking news email Continue reading...

A group of Wangan and Jagalingou First Nations people have lodged a racial discrimination complaint against coalminer Adani, alleging the company engaged in a decade-long “pattern of conduct” that included making offensive statements and social media posts.The complaint to the Australian Human Rights Commission alleges Adani breached the federal Racial Discrimination Act by attempting to block them in 2023 from accessing Doongmabulla Springs, a sacred site near the Carmichael coalmine in outback Queensland.The claim also alleges Adani breached section 18C of the act, which prohibits offensive, insulting, humiliating or intimidatory comments, in press releases and social media posts that implied members of the group were not “legitimate” or “genuine” Aboriginal people with a connection to the site.Statements by Adani, cited in the complaint, allegedly imply that members of the group were “activists” rather than First Nations people attempting to practise culture.On Thursday, Bravus Mining and Resources, the trading name of Adani’s Australian mining arm, made statements accusing the Wangan and Jagalingou opponents of the mine of acting “at the behest of anti-fossil fuel groups”.Wangan and Jagalingou traditional owner Adrian Burragubba, a longstanding opponent of the Carmichael mine, released a statement on Thursday on behalf of the group lodging a federal anti-discrimination case. The statement accused Adani of engaging in a “smear campaign” against them.Burragubba said: “We have endured years of discrimination and vilification from Adani, and we’re not putting up with this any more.“Adani has been on notice about their conduct since our lawyers sent a concerns notice last year, and they refused to take action. Legal recourse is the only answer.”The federal anti-discrimination case lodged by Burragubba, his son Gurridyula, and nine other family members alleges Adani breached section 9 of the act by seeking to “verbally and physically obstruct and prevent” Burragubba and others from accessing the Doongmabulla Springs “in order to perform cultural rites and share cultural knowledge”.Guardian Australia published video of a brief standoff at the site in September last year.The complaint alleges that social media posts on the Bravus Facebook page attracted offensive comments – which the company failed to remove – which describe members of the group as “filth” and “deserving of being killed”.“This company thinks it can impair our human rights, destroy our lands and waters and smash our culture, and then denigrate us in the eyes of the world,” Burragubba said.“And they are barracked on by people on their social media channels without any moderation. Well, we intend to change the racism and resentment directed at Aboriginal people who stand up for their rights,” he said.skip past newsletter promotionSign up to Breaking News AustraliaGet the most important news as it breaksPrivacy Notice: Newsletters may contain info about charities, online ads, and content funded by outside parties. For more information see our Privacy Policy. We use Google reCaptcha to protect our website and the Google Privacy Policy and Terms of Service apply.after newsletter promotionSeven of 12 members of a Wangan and Jagalingou native title applicant group agreed to a land-use agreement with Adani in 2016, as required under complex native title laws. Others, including Burragubba, were opposed to the mine and have campaigned against it. One of their key concerns is about the potential for water to be affected at Doongmabulla Springs.Adani has repeatedly claimed scientists and others with concerns about environmental impact of the mine are anti-coal campaigners.The company said on Thursday it had not been notified about a complaint.“We wholly reject the allegations made by Mr Burragubba in this latest attempt to stop Bravus from telling our side of the story and sharing facts with the public about our interactions with him and members of his ‘family council’,” a spokesperson for Bravus said.The statement said Gurridyula had been prosecuted for assaulting two mine workers and made public threats to workers via social media.“Mr Burragubba and his allies in the anti-fossil fuel movement have tried for many years to discredit our company and stop our Carmichael mine which has been operating safely and responsibly in line with Queensland and Australian law and in partnership with the majority traditional owner group.“Mr Burragubba has acted at the behest of anti-fossil fuel groups such as the Sunrise Project.“We have a right to defend our business and shine a light on the behaviour of Mr Burragubba, [Gurridyula], and any others who act for their cause, and we will continue to do so.”

Cape Town faces no limit on sewage discharge into the ocean

The environmental minister has removed the limits on the amount of sewage Cape Town can release into the ocean. The post Cape Town faces no limit on sewage discharge into the ocean appeared first on SA People.

Following a decision by Minister of Fisheries, Forestry, and the Environment Dion George, the City of Cape Town is now allowed to discharge an unlimited amount of untreated sewage into the ocean. This exemption temporarily lifts volume restrictions on sewage discharged through the city’s three marine outfalls in Green Point, Camps Bay, and Hout Bay, pending appeals against the permits issued for these operations, writes GroundUp. The permits, which allow for 25 million, 11.3 million, and 5 million litres of sewage discharge per day at the respective outfalls, have been contested by environmental groups and residents. These parties argue that the practice violates constitutional rights to a healthy environment and has not undergone adequate risk assessments or public consultation. Raw effluent is discharged from these outfalls daily. The only treatment the sewage receives before being released into the ocean is that it is ‘sieved’ to remove solids. Minister George revealed that as of August 2024, the limits on daily sewage discharge had been suspended due to ongoing appeals. This means the City is no longer restricted by the initial permit conditions. According to GroundUp, the City had already been exceeding those limits before the suspension. In October for example, daily discharges at Green Point exceeded permit limits by 700 000 litres per day. Environmental concerns Environmental activists and organisations like the National Sea Rescue Institute (NSRI) have raised serious concerns. They argue that releasing untreated sewage into the Table Mountain National Park Marine Protected Area could harm marine ecosystems. It also poses public health risks. A 2017 CSIR report highlighted that while the ocean’s high-energy environment has a better capacity to dilute pollutants than say, an estuary, “of importance is the volume of effluent discharged.” Persistent sewage discharge could overwhelm the system, leading to chronic toxicity and long-term damage to marine life. Thus the current and increasing quantities of untreated effluent have raised alarm bells. Environmental activist Caroline Marx, who sits on the City’s mayoral advisory committee for water quality, criticised the minister’s decision to allow unrestricted sewage discharge, citing the risks to a Marine Protected Area. She also pointed out that compliance issues with the Hout Bay outfall permit went ignored for years until ActionSA filed a criminal case. Legal and operational issues The City has faced compliance challenges for years. Documents revealed by ActionSA show that the Hout Bay outfall exceeded permit limits on 104 out of 181 days in early 2023. The City also failed to establish a Permit Advisory Forum as required. These violations have led to compliance notices and a criminal case against the City, which is now under investigation by the National Prosecuting Authority. ‘No other option’ for sewage Water and sanitation mayco member Zahid Badroodien said that Cape Town is growing and so are volumes of sewage—and that there was no other option at the moment but to utilise the outfalls. However, City officials say they are exploring long-term solutions, such as new wastewater treatment facilities or diverting sewage to existing plants. The post Cape Town faces no limit on sewage discharge into the ocean appeared first on SA People.

Has nuclear power entered a new era of acceptance amid global warming?

Public support for nuclear power is the highest its been in more than a decade as the nation struggles to reduce its reliance on planet-warming fossil fuels.

When Heather Hoff took a job at Diablo Canyon nuclear power plant, she was skeptical of nuclear energy — so much so that she resolved to report anything questionable to the anti-nuclear group Mothers for Peace.Instead, after working at the plant for over a decade and asking every question she could think of about operations and safety, she co-founded her own group, Mothers for Nuclear, in 2016 to keep the plant alive.“I was pretty nervous,” said Hoff, 45. “It felt very lonely — no one else was doing that. We looked around for allies — other pro-nuclear groups. … There just weren’t very many.”Today, however, public support for nuclear power is the highest its been in more than a decade as government and private industry struggle to reduce reliance on planet-warming fossil fuels. Aggressive and impactful reporting on climate change, the environment, health and science. Although a string of nuclear disasters decades ago had caused the majority of older Americans to distrust the technology, this hasn’t been the case for younger generations. Old-school environmentalists “grew up in the generation of Three Mile Island and Chernobyl. ... The Gen Zers today did not,” said David Weisman, 63, who has been involved in the movement to get Diablo Canyon shut down since the ’90s and works as the legislative director of the Alliance for Nuclear Responsibility. “They don’t remember how paralyzed with fright the nation was the week after Three Mile Island. ... They don’t recall the shock of Chernobyl less than seven years later.” Public support for nuclear power is the highest its been in more than a decade. Here, the domed reactors of the Diablo Canyon Power Plant rise along the California coast. (Brian van der Brug/Los Angeles Times) Many of these younger nuclear advocates — outwardly vocal on social media sites such as X and Instagram — hope the renewed interest will fuel a second renaissance in nuclear power, one that helps California, the U.S. and the globe meet ambitious climate goals.“I think we are the generation that’s ready to make this change, and accept facts over feelings, and ready to transition to a cleaner, more reliable and safer energy source,” said Veronica Annala, 23, a college student at Texas A&M and president of the school’s new Nuclear Advocacy Resource Organization. In the past few months alone, Microsoft announced plans to fund the reopening of Three Mile Island’s shuttered unit to power a data center. Amazon and Google have also invested in new, cutting-edge nuclear technology to meet clean energy goals.While some advocates wish nuclear revitalization wasn’t being driven by energy-hungry AI technology, the excitement around nuclear power is more palpable than it has been in a generation, they say.“There’s so many things happening at the same time. ... This is the actual nuclear renaissance,” said Gabriel Ivory, 22, a student at Texas A&M and vice president of NARO. “When you look at Three Mile Island restarting — that was something nobody would have ever even thought of.”This enthusiasm has also been accompanied by a surprising political shift. During the Cold War nuclear energy frenzy of the 1970s and ’80s, nuclear supporters — often Republicans — touted the jobs the plants would create, and argued that the United States needed to remain a commanding leader of nuclear technology and weaponry on the global stage.Meanwhile, environmental groups, often aligned with the Democratic Party, opposed nuclear power based on the potential negative impact on surrounding ecosystems, the thorny problem of storing spent fuel and the small but real risk of a nuclear meltdown.“In America … it has been highly politicized,” said Jenifer Avellaneda Diaz, 29, who works in the industry and runs the advocacy account Nuclear Hazelnut. “That is a little bit shameful, because we have great experts here — a lot of doctors, a lot of scientists, a lot of engineers, mathematicians, physicists.”Today, younger Republicans are 11% less likely to support new nuclear plants in the U.S. than their older counterparts. Meanwhile the opposite is true for the left: Younger Democrats are 9% more likely to support new nuclear than older Democrats, according to a poll by the Pew Research Center. As a result, while Republicans older than 65 are 27% more likely to support nuclear energy than their Democratic peers, Republicans age 18 to 29 are only 7% more likely to support it than their Democratic counterparts.“Young Democrats and young Republicans may be looking at numbers — but two separate sets of numbers,” said Weisman. “The young Republicans may be looking at the cost per megawatt hour, and the young Democrats are looking at a different number: parts per million of CO2 in the atmosphere.”Brendan Pittman, 33 — who founded the Berkeley Amend movement, aiming to get his city to drop its “nuclear-free zone” status — said he’s noticed that younger people have become more open to learning about nuclear energy.“Now, as we’re getting into energy crises, and we’re talking more about, ‘How do we solve this?’ Younger people are taking a more rational and nuanced review of all energy, and they’re coming to the same conclusion: Yeah, nuclear checks all the boxes,” Pittman said.“I remember getting signatures on the streets of Berkeley, and I would say most young people — when I said we’re looking to support nuclear energy — they would just stop me and say, ‘Oh you’re supporting nuclear energy? Where do I sign?’” he said. “I didn’t even have to sell it.”This newfound enthusiasm has also affected the nuclear industry, where two dominant age groups have emerged: baby boomers who mostly took nuclear jobs for consistent work, and millennials and Gen Zers who made a motivated choice to enter a stigmatized field, advocates in the industry say.“You get all sorts of different backgrounds, and that really just blooms into all sorts of fresh new ideas, and I think that’s part of what’s making the industry exciting right now,” said Matt Wargon, 33, past chair of the Young Members Group of the American Nuclear Society.Like the workers themselves, the industry has formed two bubbles: the traditional plants that have been operating for decades and a slew of new technologies — from small reactors that could power or heat single factories to a potentially safer class of large-scale reactors that use molten salt in their cores instead of pressurized water.At existing plants, younger folks have injected innovation into longstanding operation norms, improving safety and efficiency. At the startups, those who’ve worked in the industry for decades provide “invaluable” knowledge that simply isn’t in textbooks, industry workers say. Steam rises from the cooling towers of the Alvin W. Vogtle Electric Generating Plant, in Waynesboro, Ga. (Mike Stewart / Associated Press) The infusion of new talent and ideas is a significant change from when Pennsylvania’s Three Mile Island disaster in 1979 and the Chernobyl meltdown in 1986 devastated the industry. Regulations became stricter, and development on new reactors and new technology slowed to a halt.False narratives around the technology ricocheted through society. Both Hoff and Avellaneda Diaz recall their parents worrying about radiation affecting their ability to have children. (The average worker at Diablo receives significantly less radiation in a week than a passenger does on a single East Coast to West Coast airplane flight.)“Radiation is invisible — you can’t see it. You can’t smell it. You can’t hear it,” said Wargon. “And people tend to fear the unknown. … So if you tell them, ‘Oh this power plant has a lot of radiation coming out of it,’ it’s hard to dispel [the misinformation and fear].”Only as the memories faded and new generations entered the workforce did the reputation of nuclear power slowly recover.Advocates also say that college campuses have become a leading space for nuclear advocacy, with Nuclear is Clean Energy (NiCE) clubs popping up at multiple California schools in the past few years.In August, Ivory held up a big “I [heart] nuclear energy,” sign behind an ESPN college football broadcast. It quickly spread on social media and even caught the attention of the U.S. Department of Energy.Nuclear advocates say the internet and easy access to accurate information has also helped their cause.“That was certainly a revolution because right now, it’s super easy to Google it,” Avellaneda Diaz said. “Back then you needed to go to the library, get the book — it was not that easy to get the information or be informed.”A poll conducted by Ann Bisconti, a scientist and nuclear public opinion expert, found that 74% of people who said they felt very well informed strongly favored the use of nuclear energy in the U.S., whereas only 6% who felt not at all informed supported it.As such, public outreach and education has become a core tenant of the new nuclear advocacy movement.“Let’s be real,” Annala said, “our generation has the whole internet at our fingertips ... so, just starting the conversations is really the big thing.”Advocates speculate that the ability to rapidly disseminate information on nuclear energy to combat misconceptions might have helped prevent nuclear energy from becoming politically and culturally toxic after the Fukushima accident, unlike with Chernobyl and Three Mile Island.While the Texas A&M students were quite young when the disaster unfolded, both Wargon and Pittman were in college in 2011 when an earthquake and tsunami in Japan crippled the power systems at the Fukushima Daiichi nuclear power plant, triggering a meltdown. Avellaneda Diaz was in high school.Hoff was working at Diablo Canyon when Fukushima happened. The public scare, in part pushed by the media, almost led her to quit her job.Instead, after taking the time to analyze the causes of the meltdown and the errors made, she decided to embrace nuclear.For her, Fukushima was a reminder that nuclear power comes with risk — however small — but that even in a worst-case scenario, operators are skilled at preventing a disaster. (PG&E says a Fukushima flooding episode would be impossible at Diablo Canyon.) Environmental activists in Seoul march during a rally marking the 12th anniversary of the Fukushima nuclear disaster. (Ahn Young-joon / Associated Press) Today, Hoff writes the emergency protocols for Diablo Canyon and hopes the industry will learn again how to engage with the public.She said that’s what happened with her when she first — somewhat reluctantly — took a job at Diablo.“I was a little obnoxious for the first few years,” Hoff said of her constant questioning and search for a critical flaw.Instead of pushing back against her, the plant welcomed it. Newsletter Toward a more sustainable California Get Boiling Point, our newsletter exploring climate change, energy and the environment, and become part of the conversation — and the solution. You may occasionally receive promotional content from the Los Angeles Times.

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