In April, President Biden signed Executive Order 14096 to “Revitalize our Nation’s Commitment to Environmental Justice for All.”  It states,

“We must advance Environmental Justice for all by implementing and enforcing the Nation’s environmental and civil rights laws, preventing pollution, addressing climate change and its effects, and working to clean legacy pollution that is harming human health and the environment.”

The Executive Order goes on to talk about supporting “culturally vibrant, sustainable, and resilient communities in which every person has safe, clean, and affordable options for housing energy, and transportation.”  And it includes goals of “an equitable, inclusive, and sustainable economy.” Biden told a those in the White House Rose Garden who had gathered to celebrate this commitment, “Environmental justice will be the mission of the entire government.” 

That’s a lot. What exactly is at the heart of environmental justice? 

Environmental Justice (EJ) sits at a convergence of demographics, environmental hazards, and public health. Professor Robert Bullard, Founding Director of the Bullard Center for Climate and Environmental Justice at Texas Southern University, is said to be the Father of Environmental Justice. Many years ago, Bullard characterized the EJ problem this way, “[W]hether by conscious design or institutional neglect, communities of color in urban ghettos, in rural ‘poverty pockets’, or on economically impoverished Native-American reservations face some of the worst environmental devastation in the nation.” The Bullard Center explains that race and class map closely with pollution, unequal protection, and vulnerability.

The EPA deems EJ to be “the fair treatment and meaningful involvement of all people regardless of race, color, national origin, or income, with respect to the development, implementation, and enforcement of environmental laws, regulations, and policies. States have their own EJ definitions and can be more specific about what counts as an EJ community.  For instance, in Michigan a census tract with a 30 percent or greater minority population, or 20 or greater at or below the poverty level can be considered an EJ area.  In Connecticut, a “distressed municipality” is defined as a census block group where 30% of the population is living below 200% of the federal poverty level or whose tax base, resident incomes, and residents’ need for public service indicate distress.

For many, facts are actually straightforward. We have been, and continue to be, a segregated country – segregated among and even within communities. When a company wants to site a new facility or expand an existing one, state and/or local permits have to be granted. Public agencies have for decades approved siting pollution sources in and around communities of color and impoverished communities. These are generally areas that have already been zoned for industrial activity. Some officials wrongly believe that adding more pollution to a polluted neighborhood is less problematic than the other options. And nearby or adjacent communities often do not have the resources nor the political clout to keep these permits from being granted. Similarly, they may have trouble getting the attention of officials after the fact, when suffering under a cloud of emissions. Where facilities already exist, those with the means can opt not to live nearby in the first place or will be able to move. The connection between pollution exposure and the places people live, work, and play is self-perpetuating.

There are innumerable industries with innumerable facilities releasing innumerable air toxics. Let’s look at the Suncor Refinery, located in Commerce City, Colorado, which is 48% Hispanic or Latino. Experts have agreed that Suncor pollutes the surrounding communities at dangerous levels. Those that live nearby say that the refinery was polluting at an enormous scale because its victims were in low-income, marginalized neighborhoods.  A community leader on this issue says that the area has a long history of redlining (a practice of racism in the housing market that in itself has intergenerational self-perpetuating consequences) and “political disinvestment.” According to Brent Goodlet, another advocate, “There’s been a concentration of industry placed in this area, and then through redlining and other federal policies where we excluded people of color and low income folks from living in the cleaner parts of town. We forced them all to live next to where the pollution is. And now we’ve entered into this situation where it’s really unsustainable.” This occurs in cities and towns across the country.

The EPA itself has acknowledged that, “Commerce City – North Denver is home to residents overburdened by environmental pollution. Located next to some of the city and state’s major highways, large numbers of regulated facilities, and areas with legacy pollution, community members have continued to express concerns about their health, environment, and community.”  Environmental exposures in the community include air emissions of Benzene, Particulate Matter, Hydrogen Cyanide, Sulfur Dioxide, Radon-222, and many others.

According to Priyanka deSouza, assistant professor at the Urban and Regional Planning Department at University of Colorado, there is ongoing research that supports the firsthand accounts of nearby residents. “Suncor is a major polluter in Adams County and has really affected the health of the community that lives around it,” deSouza explained. “[w]e know that the cancer rates in the community around Suncor are much higher than the cancer rates of the state. And so it’s clear that there’s something going on in this particular community that is causing these high cancer incidences.”  Experts and community members also know that in addition to carcinogens, the emissions are associated with cardiovascular and respiratory disease, among others.

So what does all this mean?  It means that we should consider it a special and alarming kind of injustice if excess environmental risk and health consequences are foisted on communities that already bear the burden of relative powerlessness against industry and government along with the burdens of racism, food insecurity, poor economic opportunities, and inadequate health care. Environmental exposures are yet another in the list of burdens.

But actually, it’s more than that. Environmental injustice is a one-two punch; it’s a health risk synergy of two harmful forces. It reflects disparity in toxic exposure but also disparity in underlying disease risk and prevalence. And that disparity is, in part, from what researchers and public health professionals characterize as Socioeconomic Status and Social Determinants of Health. Your race, your income, where you live and what resources you have affects your health – what kind of healthcare you have, education, social and community support, economic stability, and the quality of your neighborhood and built environment. All of these things are known to impact people’s health – for better or for worse – depending on who you are and where you live.

Being below the federal poverty line increases risk of mental illness, chronic diseases, increased mortality, and lower life expectancy. Risks for heart disease, diabetes, and obesity are higher among those with the lowest income and educational levels. Additionally, there are racial disparities in health, irrespective of other factors. For example, African American women, as a whole, have higher pregnancy-related mortality rates compared to white women and have higher odds of preterm and low-birthweight births. Those outcomes are then associated with feeding problems, breathing problems, developmental delays, vision and hearing problems, and cerebral palsy. In 2022, the rate of preterm birth was about 50 percent higher among African American women than among white and Hispanic. Children born preterm or low birthweight can require a lifetime of needs that are costly both to families and to governments. Infant mortality is higher for blacks than whites.

Environmental exposures then have different impacts based on socioeconomic status (SES). Take exposure to PM2.5 (particulate matter measuring 2.5 micrometers in diameter or less), which is the result of combustion activity and is a constituent of smog dust, soot and truck exhaust. PM2.5 exposure poses a great risk to health, including risk of premature death in people with heart or lung disease, nonfatal heart attacks, and decreased lung function. And those risks are higher. It seems that SES may modify the association between PM exposure and PM-related health effects, raising risk among African Americans compared to White individuals.

It was reported on January 28 of this year that the Suncor refinery has acknowledged 13 malfunctions just since December 1, 2023, releasing – in one incident – Hydrogen Sulfide 160 times higher than it is permitted to release. The Federal Centers for Disease Control and Prevention reports that Hydrogen Sulfide can cause health impacts from irritation of the respiratory system, dizziness, and headache to convulsions and coma.

Environmental justice communities warrant serious attention. Federal, state and local agencies, as well as industry actors, can take important steps to limit the burden of toxic emissions to communities already vulnerable. This is only addresses part of the overall problem, but it is one that is achievable