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Following Trump’s decision to withdraw the US from the Paris climate accord, the president was assailed by businesses ranging from Facebook to Goldman Sachs for risking America’s economic and environmental standing. The White House was choked by phone calls from irate voters.
Perhaps most significantly, a coalition of lawmakers, companies and universities swung into action in an attempt to reassure the world that the US wasn’t completely abandoning the field.
Within this group committing itself to the Paris targets are 17 governors – two of them Republicans – and 125 cities, including New York City, Los Angeles and Pittsburgh, which was cited, somewhat mistakenly, by Trump as somewhere that would benefit from exiting the Paris agreement.
With the federal government casting off the task of emissions reduction, the onus is now on cities and states to make up the shortfall. We look at what four major US cities – New York City, Houston, Miami and San Francisco – are doing to stave off the threat of climate change.
New York City
Outrage over the president’s move to pull the US out of the Paris accord went far and wide, but Bill de Blasio, New York City’s mayor, seemed to take particular offense that one of the city’s own had done such a thing.
“This is a dagger aimed straight at the heart of New York City,” De Blasio said, raising the specter of rising seas and storms bearing down on Manhattan and Brooklyn. “We have to understand that if climate change is not addressed, one of the greatest coastal cities on the earth will be increasingly threatened. It’s very painful to reflect the fact that Donald Trump is from New York City. He should know better.”
To add to De Blasio’s distress, the mayor then had to field questions over what sort of example he was setting by being driven almost every day from Gracie Mansion, on the upper east side of Manhattan, to a gym 12 miles away in Brooklyn. De Blasio said his own environmental efforts are focused on recycling and composting, adding he wouldn’t be drawn into the “cheap symbolism” of using public transport.
But no matter how green-tinged the mayor’s own personal habits are, New York City has positioned itself, along with California, as the main bulwark against Trump’s demolition of climate change action at home and abroad. Having already promised to cut emissions 80% by 2050, De Blasio signed an order committing the city to the goals of the Paris agreement, including its most ambitious target – a warming limit of 1.5C (2.7F) beyond the pre-industrial era.
New York City has already earmarked billions of dollars to retrofit 1m buildings to make them more energy efficient, electrify its municipal vehicle fleet, plant thousands of trees and coat rooftops in solar panels.
The city is coming off a promising base: half of New York City residents don’t own a car and while energy use still results in nearly 50m tons of greenhouse gases, average household electricity consumption is well below the national average. There’s palpable concern about climate change too – in surveys, three-quarters of residents say they are worried about climate change, with more than 80% wanting carbon dioxide to be regulated.
New York’s clout has been touted by Michael Bloomberg, its former mayor, who has helped corral a national coalition of cities and states to fill the void left by the federal government’s exit from climate policy and concern. Bloomberg, who recently stumped up millions of dollars for the UN climate secretariat, has said: “We are already halfway there – and we can accelerate our progress further, even without any support from Washington.”
Still, even if California and New York state halve their emissions, the US would not make Barack Obama’s Paris goal of reducing emissions by at least 26% by 2025. In this light, New York City’s adoption of the 1.5C goal – considered a long shot at the time of the agreement in 2015 and now entering the realm of impossibility – appears to be a defiant flourish rather than sober expectation.
“1.5C was the stretch target at Paris. It’s a very aggressive goal, which is perhaps the most charitable way to put it,” said Daniel Zarrilli, senior director of New York City’s climate policy. “But we are already at risk and it’s important to set high targets to head off the worst consequences of climate change. Others need to see what New York City is doing and make the same accelerations. We need to do more and we need to do it faster.”
According to Zarrilli, heat exposure is already the biggest killer of New York City residents in terms of natural hazards – and then there’s the looming issue of rising seas, which are on course to increase around the city by up to 2ft by 2050 and 6ft by 2100.
Without a sharp reversal in emissions, parts of lower Manhattan and Brooklyn face being consumed by the sea, with the city’s two low-lying airports, La Guardia and JFK, expected to have water sloshing around the runways by the end of the century.
More than $20bn has been set aside for defenses to this threat, but some critics argue that as much effort and money should be spent on overhauling the city’s existing creaking infrastructure. The subway system is under strain, with delayed signal work causing huge delays and much angst (the New York Times recently compared it unfavorably to the London Underground).
If Donald Trump advocated on behalf of water, San Francisco, the self-styled capital of “the resistance”, would likely advocate not bathing. The president received just 9% of the vote in a city in which the final elected Republican was vanquished in 2014.
And, surely enough, after the president made his Paris announcement, San Francisco’s board of supervisors on 6 June introduced a resolution stating that this city will stay the course. “I think it’s important San Francisco goes on record as a city that it is committed to this agreement, regardless,” said city supervisor London Breed, the board’s president. “We’re not going to stop doing what we do best.”
Since 2008, each of the city’s scores of departments has been required to submit climate action plans; ecological regulations across the city’s myriad layers of government have been centralized in the 26 chapters of San Francisco’s environment code. Matters addressed by San Francisco on a municipal level range from how to best deal with arsenic-treated wood and construction debris to strict building requirements.
San Francisco’s path to a greener tomorrow comes via the “0-50-100-Roots” plan, a phrase that rolls off the tongue of Department of the Environment spokesman Guillermo Rodriguez, if no one else. This proposal is composed of reaching “zero waste” by 2020 (a goal perhaps more aspirational than realistic ); 50 percent of all trips in the city being undertaken on “sustainable transportation” (the perhaps 45,000 Uber, Lyft, and other app-hailed drivers now clogging city streets count under the city’s metric, interestingly); use of 100 percent renewable energy (a goal that syncs overall with the state of California’s wishes by 2045); and a bevy of plans to protect and augment the city’s tree canopy.
San Francisco is nevertheless making progress. In 2015, the city measured its greenhouse gas emissions at 28% below 1990 levels – despite the city’s population growing nearly 20%, and a robust bump in its gross domestic product of 78%. That mark handily beat the city’s stated goal of 25% in 2017 in both reduction totals and timeframe; the plan is now to drop emissions 40% by 2025 and 80% by 2050. San Francisco’s reduction goals, says the Business Council on Climate Change’s executive director, Michael Parks, are fairly standard among large American cities. But in achieving and surpassing those goals at a rapid clip, the city “is a national leader”.
Parks’s San Francisco-based organization works with many area corporations to promote ecological measures; he matter-of-factly predicts plenty will now, post-Paris pullout, work even harder to be sustainable “because businesses are used to working on climate-change plans without help from the federal government”. Just as city politicians can do well by doing good in opposing Trump, so can city corporations: “Sustainability is a good business decision,” Parks says. Companies can save money and earn prestige. Employees feel “energized” to work for a place that espouses their own values. Among the Bay Area standouts, Salesforce hit its zero carbon emission goals for 2050 this year; Google has reached 100% renewable energy in 2017; Whole Foods has moved to install solar panels at 100 stores; and BlackRock has begun wheedling the companies in which it invests to address climate risk.
Miami Beach likes to bill itself a poster child for the effects of climate change. Flooding from each successive year’s King Tides reaches farther inland and affects more homes, businesses and livelihoods, and the waters lap ever higher toward environmentalists’ dire predictions of a 5ft rise in sea levels in south Florida by 2100. So to Philip Levine, the outspoken mayor of the low-lying coastal city, Trump’s unilateral withdrawal from the Paris agreement was nothing short of “a colossal mistake”.
“It’s a punch in the gut for all of us who on the ground are experiencing this threat first-hand,” said Levine, who has overseen his city’s investment of hundreds of millions of dollars to raise roads and sea defences and install modern and powerful pumping equipment.
“It’s like being on a boat and the next thing you know the entire current has gone against you, but you know you still need to go in the right direction. For all of us who are experiencing climate change and sea level rise, we have no choice but to continue forward.”
Levine was a signatory to the defiant open letter to Trump signed by more than 1,200 mayors, governors and education and business leaders pledging to abide by the terms of the Paris accord, and has promised to press ahead with Miami Beach’s ambitious works programme.
With partners including four south Florida counties who in 2012 formalised their own regional action plan to combat the effects of climate change on their collective population of 6 million, the city’s own efforts pre-date the Trump administration by several years – and will long outlast it, Levine insists. “Our priorities are the low-lying areas of our city, the western part of the island,” he said. “We’re building up those areas, putting in the pumps, and we have seen significant, incredible success. Now we’re going to other parts of our city, other places that are also low lying and we need to raise.”
Under a resiliency strategy entitled Rising Above, the city – barely seven miles wide by one mile across – is elevating more than 100 miles of roads, installing 80 new pump stations, upgrading stormwater drainage utilities and raising sea walls in the most vulnerable areas by up to 5ft.
The ongoing works, which began in the fall of 2014, are costly and already at $500m, Levine said, although they are partially offset by grants from the state of Florida and a $7 hike per household in stormwater rates (which the mayor justified by asking residents if they would rather live in Miami Beach or Atlantis).
Other efforts to reduce the city’s carbon footprint include the promotion of water taxis and trolley buses, to get cars off the streets, and incentives for green construction. While Levine acknowledges the project might secure only a half-century’s respite, he hopes the investment will buy enough time to find a political solution to the ravages of environmental change, albeit after the current president leaves office. As for Trump himself, Levine wonders what goes through the president’s mind when he looks out from his waterfront Mar-a-Lago mansion just up the coast in Palm Beach and “sees how narrow the beach is compared to just 20, 30 years ago”.