By Gregg Macey and Imari “Mars” Keith
Lost in the deluge of reports of government workers fired or placed on administrative leave are countless human moments. One account comes from Amanda Cronin. Two years after she was hired to work for the Environmental Protection Agency’s Office of Environmental Justice, she and 167 of her colleagues were unceremoniously let go. Understandably, the Trump Administration’s dismantling of such programs, driven by executive orders that conflate environmental justice with “immoral and illegal” activity, led to an outcry among policy observers, regulators, and community leaders.
Yet despite California’s condemnation of these changes — along with its reputation as a “first mover” in environmental policy, the state has yet to meet its own obligations to further environmental protection for all people.
Cronin’s office was tasked with responding to environmental injustice: the fact that some communities “experience environmental and public health harms disproportionately to the rest of the population.” Many factors contribute to this, among them redlining, urban renewal, exclusionary and expulsive zoning, unequal monitoring and enforcement, and even lack of access to public documents. Some decisions are overtly racist; others compound tragic oversight atop generations of neglect.
California was among the first states to try to remedy these dynamics in the late 1990s. Yet the state’s efforts have fallen flat. Here are three examples.
First, California promised to address how multiple pollution sources combine to harm communities and to draft proposals for regulatory changes to “cumulative impacts analysis, prevention and reduction.” Twenty-five years later, agency staff still describe cumulative impact as a “newer area” that they are “not trained” to handle. Meanwhile, cancer-causing pesticides such as 1,3-D, the growth of industries such as freight and logistics, and limited attempts to reduce emissions at the neighborhood scale demand new approaches that actually reduce cumulative impacts.
Second, starting in 2001, California agencies were required to review old programs and policies to identify gaps “that may impede the achievement of environmental justice.” Unfortunately, state agencies failed to put in place internal audits with an eye toward “science-based approaches, cost-effectiveness, and programmatic solutions” to resolve gaps in implementation.
Nowhere is this oversight more severe than in the area of civil rights. California law provides stronger protections against discrimination than federal laws such as the Civil Rights Act of 1964. Yet California agencies never developed systems to make sure these laws are actually followed by recipients of state funds, who among other decisions issue permits for industrial facilities and the commercial use of products such as pesticides. Newly updated rules that implement Government Code Section 11135 give us an opportunity to address persistent gaps in enforcement and compliance.
More recently, California has tried to anticipate the Trump Administration’s demands and comply with them ahead of time. For example, after the 2024 election, California chose not to seek a waiver to fully implement its Advanced Clean Fleets regulation. This decision alone will result in the annual release of over 2,000 tons of nitrogen oxides (a smog-forming pollutant) and 50 tons of particulate matter (which contributes to respiratory problems and heart disease) into the air across the Bay Area alone through 2045. California officials must carefully explain such decisions and available strategies to limit the damage caused.
Notwithstanding the turmoil in Washington, a robust, creative, and dedicated social movement for what Amanda Cronin calls “compassionate” administration of law persists in the world’s fifth-largest economy. Its leaders are ready to work with the state to ensure responsible regulation, a robust economy, and healthy schools and workplaces. But first, we must reverse the tragic choices that postponed longstanding commitments to environmental justice. The promise at the heart of environmental and civil rights law – environmental justice for all - depends on what we do in our own backyard.