Here are 16 cities tackling inequality through climate action schemes

The solar cooperative, Suwon, South Korea. Image: Sustainia.

The impacts of climate change fall heaviest on the poor. Just take the island of Puerto Rico which was particularly badly hit by hurricane Maria last week – and where 44 per cent of people already live below the poverty line. Even on the US mainland, those living in lower-income communities are more likely to live in unsafe homes in flood-prone areas, or closer to noxious industrial facilities.

This makes a global reduction of CO2 emissions essential. But some places are also taking the opportunity to extend social justice even further: a new Cities100 report shows how some cities are marrying their climate change response with support for their most vulnerable communities.

Some 91 different cities submitted 174 applications to the campaign. Then a team from the international think tank Sustainia whittled them down into a top 100 list of city-based solutions to climate change.

Here are just 16 examples, chosen to highlight the wider good tackling climate change can also achieve.

Emissions and equality

Washington D.C now has a law requiring all energy suppliers to source 50 per cent of their electricity from renewable energy sources by 2032 – including 5 per cent from local solar energy. All non-conforming suppliers must pay a fee, which then helps provide solar energy benefits to low and moderate income residents.

In Suwon in South Korea, the Sharing Solar Power Project is a grassroots cooperative that invests in solar energy and then ploughs 50 per cent profits back into social welfare or additional solar projects. As of February 2017 the city has seen $200,000 in profits.

In London, mayor Sadiq Khan has introduced schemes to replace and repair inefficient gas boilers in homes. The Boiler Cashback scheme has provided around 4,000 homeowners and landlords with cashback to replace boilers operating at less than 70 per cent efficiency. A second Better Boilers scheme also focuses on reducing fuel poverty among the most vulnerable communities in London.

Los Angeles has installed 1,000 publically available electric chargers, more than half of the city’s own light-duty fleet is now electric, and they’ve piloted an EV car-sharing scheme to encourage equitable access in low and middle income areas. An Electric Vehicle Request for Information initiative has also bundled together EV demand from several cities in order to drive down prices: in March 2017, the order stood at 114,000 vehicles at a value of $10bn.

Adaptation for all

New Orleans is investing in an emergency account program. This matches financial savings for low and moderate income earners to create emergency funds for disaster response. A workforce development program for environmental projects is also hoping to help tackle the city’s employment problems.

Mexico City is harvesting its rainwater in order to reduce pressure on its over-stretched groundwater systems. And it is training women who have suffered domestic violence to install and monitor the new technology.

Gladsaxe in Denmark has turned a 142-hectar water catchment area into a massive site for recreation and sports. “Paddle tennis” courts, skateboarding areas and climate frames all double as rainwater reservoirs. And the Park includes a non-profit social housing association with its own rainwater distribution system.

In Taoyuan in Taiwan, the city has built a water monitoring system and app that allows people to access disaster information in real time – and to help report on floods themselves. 20,000 people have downloaded the app so far.

Green jobs

San Francisco now requires large commercial buildings to audit their energy saving opportunities. Over four years, 468 municipal buildings have cut carbon emissions by more than 30 per cent. In the private sector, audits have led to a 10 per cent reduction in electricity use in upgraded buildings. The reporting requirements have also already created 200 new jobs.

Johannesburg has waste buy-back centres, which encourage entrepreneurialism by buying recyclable paper, plastic, cans and glass from informal waste pickers and selling it on to recyclers. This gives the waste-pickers greater job security and more predictable demand.

In Cape Town a new industrial program called WISP (Western Cape Industrial Symbiosis Programme) is linking up companies who can benefit from eachothers waste. Workshops have identified more than 4,000 such relationships between 486 different companies in the network. It has also developed a carbon calculator so it can measure how much CO2 these swaps will save. “WISP has diverted 4,950 metric tons of waste from landfill – saving CO2 equivalent to 15,000 trees growing over 30 years.” the report says.


Garden cities

T.Park in Hong Kong is the world’s largest wastewater sludge incineration plant, converting 2,000 tons of daily sludge into less polluting ash and renewable energy. There is also an environmental education centre complete with spa, wetland garden and bird sanctuary.

Barcelona plans to minimise the urban heat island effect by increasing its number of trees from 5 per cent canopy coverage to 30 per cent by 2037. As well as providing shade, the extra trees will help remove more than 305 metric tons of pollution from the atmosphere.

Wuhan in China has abandoned its previous flood defence strategy of giant dikes that lined the river banks, and has instead created a new, 7km long Beach Park. The venue is set to become the largest urban riverfront park in the world at 10m m2: 45,000 trees, 350,000m2 of shrubs and 387,000m2 of grass fill its banks, while football courts, non-motorised roads, and seven swimming pools will draw people to the area.

A sharing economy

New Taipei City in China is encouraging people to recycle with service stations where you can exchange waste for garbage bags and green products. Some of these also include “happiness stations”, where working home goods can be donated to low-income communities.

Mexico City has introduced green bonds for climate action. $50m worth of bonds have been issued to finance the city’s green transition, including a new bus rapid transit lines and LED street lighting. The program also seeks to reduce the inequality gap between men and women caused by the impacts of climate change.

India Bourke is editorial assistant and environment correspondent at the New Statesman. 

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How the rise of anti-crime politics caused lasting harm to Black Americans

"I see an awareness that has developed in the Black community in the last 10 years or so about how deeply racist the criminal justice system has become," James Forman Jr. says. (David McNew/Getty Images)

The police killing of George Floyd, and the protest movement that emerged from it, has reinvigorated a national conversation around reinventing criminal justice policy in the United States.

At the same time, reports that violent crime is rising in many US cities have resurrected talk of the much-disputed “Ferguson effect,” a theory put forward by law enforcement professionals, and some researchers, who argued that police slowdowns in the wake of the first wave of Black Lives Matter protests resulted in elevated rates of violent crime. President Donald Trump is trying to weaponise this narrative, paired with images of federal officers clashing with protesters in the streets of Portland, to wage a 1968-style backlash election campaign.

“People who want to mobilise a lock-them-up style of either policing or prosecution have tried to weaponise those short-term increases,” says James Forman Jr., professor of law at Yale Law School. “Criminologists will say you have to be very, very cautious about short-term movement [in crime statistics]. We don't know whether or not what we're seeing right now [with violent crime increasing] is going to sustain itself. But the fact is, it's here and people are talking about it.”

In 2018, Forman won the Pulitzer Prize in nonfiction for his book Locking Up Our Own: Crime and Punishment in Black America. Drawing on his experience as a public defender in Washington, DC, he traced the emergence of anti-crime politics in late 20th century Black communities. Forman showed how newly empowered Black politicians fought for policies they believed would protect and uplift Black Americans, but inadvertently contributed to mass incarceration. 


CityMetric recently caught up with Forman to discuss crime trends, where he sees reason for hope in this moment and how the Black political class’s attitude toward crime and punishment has shifted since the latter part of the 20th century. 

This interview has been edited and condensed. 

There is talk right now about a resurgence of crime and violence in American cities. We saw similar, more localised concerns after the initial 2015 Black Lives Matter protests in Ferguson and Baltimore. Do you fear this could reinvigorate the kind of politics you describe in your book among segments of the Black community and political class?

I fear that it could be reinvigorated nationally and also in the Black political class. Look at the political conversations that are happening in Atlanta right now, for example, a city that also has seen a short-term uptick in crime as it is a site of a lot of protests about George Floyd and Breonna Taylor on the national level, as well as Rayshard Brooks and Ahmaud Arbery more locally in Georgia.

I think that you can already see in some of the language of the local elected officials this idea that we have to be very careful about pulling back. [They are saying] “while the protesters may make some valid points, we can't risk returning to the ‘80s and ‘90s.” Those decades really traumatised the United States, and particularly traumatised Black communities. There's a deep fear about returning to the levels of the violence that we saw in the crack years.

You write a lot about class divides among Black Americans, where middle income and elite Black people don't suffer as much from extremely punitive policies. They also have closer ties to the politicians who are creating these policies. There are very specific groups of people, even in marginalised communities, whose voices are heard.  As a result of these dynamics, you write about Black politicians fighting for things like mandatory minimum prison sentences or against decriminalising marijuana. Is there still that disconnect between those who suffer the most from criminal justice policies and those who are actually heard in political discourse?  

Let me just say a caveat, that when we talk about class divisions in the Black community it's important to hold two truths in our head at the same time. Bruce Western and others have shown the way in which class, educational status, income can dramatically reduce the likelihood of being hardest hit by the criminal system – namely incarcerated. Middle class and upper middle class Black people get some measure of protection. It's also true at the same time that Black people of all classes are worse off relative to their class counterparts in the white community. 

One area where class is least protective is policing and police stops. The police do not know how many degrees you have. They don't know how much money you have in your bank account. I want to be very clear that in making this point about class, I'm not making the argument that race or racism don't matter in this context. 

In terms of how it plays out now, I see an awareness that has developed in the Black community in the last 10 years or so about how deeply racist the criminal justice system has become. Twenty or 30 years ago they had a consciousness, but there's levels of understanding. Many of the people I write about in the book wanted to promote the interests of the Black community. They weren't motivated by indifference or callousness. When presented with mounting evidence of how awful this system has been in Black lives, they're reconsidering and recalibrating. 

Lots of former elected officials have said to me some version of “I didn't know at the time and I appreciate that you showed us in our full complexity. I appreciate that you showed the pressures we were under. If I had known then what I know now, maybe I would have been less quick to go along with some of these harsh measures.” 

The second thing that has affected the Black political class has been the emerging movements, led by Black people in particular and led by young people. They not only educated leaders, but pressured them and made them understand that there is a political cost. If you're not moved by the moral argument, then you'll be moved by the political argument. You'll be moved by the people protesting outside the office of District Attorney Jackie Lacey in Los Angeles, for example, where Black Lives Matter LA has held, I believe, a year of consecutive protests against a Black district attorney who has had really some of the worst practices.

From what I can tell, she's been pressured by the movement to change some of her positions on important issues like prosecution of low-level drug offenders, for example, and the aggressiveness with which she prosecutes police officers for acts of violence.

What do you make of the calls to defend or even abolish the police?

What I find so compelling about abolition, initially in the prison context and extended to the police as well, is that it shifts the conversation and forces us to go through experiments in which we imagine what it would take to build that world. I think that exercise is very important, because it pushes us further than we are naturally inclined to go. Cultivating a broader imagination is an incredibly important part of this work, because as you know from my book, often it was lack of imagination that caused people to fall back on [punitive policies]. 

That's what caused D.C. Councilmember David Clarke to call the police rather than public health experts when he was overwhelmed with letters about heroin addicts in public space. He was anti-drug war, but he couldn't imagine responding to a call for help with heroin addicts with anything other than police. That's a very common move from even really good and progressive people. 

People who are for defunding, for abolition, are absolutely right about reinvesting that money into alternative structures that support communities. But the reinvestment part doesn't follow naturally from the terms. We might want to come up with a term that captures the new stuff we want to do. I think that's particularly important because one of the reasons Black communities have ended up supporting more police is that Black communities have always wanted their fair share of the resources.

Then, the evidence suggests the United States has too many police officers doing prophylactic, preventative, or stop-and-frisk style policing. The style of policing that leads to district level harassment, pulling people over for no reason. But we have too little investment in the parts of police departments that investigate unsolved crimes. I'm talking about the investigator or the detective who comes to your house after there's been a robbery, an assault, a rape, or homicide. 

As compared to European countries, in the United States we actually underinvest in those parts of our police departments. Jill Leovy’s book Ghettoside shows this in dramatic detail. She describes an LAPD that's stopping and frisking Black drivers wantonly and yet the homicide detectives are still relying on a fax machine and the fax machine is broken. They have to go with their own money to Staples to buy a printer. Meanwhile, other aspects of the department are kitted out in this ridiculous riot gear that makes them look like they're in Fallujah. 

That under investment is particularly damaging to Black communities because we're disproportionately victimised by crime. Because of racism and this allocation of resources, the police are less likely to respond in Black communities. The kids I used to work with in the charter schools in DC, we talk about no snitching, but one of the reasons they would never call the police after they'd been victimised by crime is they would say, “They're not even going to come. You're wasting time.” 

I did a Q&A with Jill Leovy too and her argument is one I've struggled to articulate in our present moment. She argues the state doesn't have a monopoly on violence in low-income Black neighbourhoods, because investigations of violence are deemphasised and crime victims or their loved ones often take retribution into their own hands.  But right now, establishing or preserving the state's monopoly on violence isn't an appealing talking point. 

Yes, this is another thing nobody's talking about. Whatever we're going to do instead of the police has to be accountable to the public. The best, most direct way to have accountability is to have the individuals be public employees. As long as we have 300 million guns in this country at least some of those state employees are going to themselves be armed. It's unreasonable to ask them to do the job without it. Not as many need to be armed as are armed now, but some of them need to be. But they can't be hiding behind union contracts or civil service protections which make it impossible to remove even the worst performing, most abusive officers. 

We can not call them police if we want to. That's semantic, but maybe symbolism matters. But those people have to be state employees. They can work with community-based nonprofits, but there are also communities that don't have as robust of a nonprofit network, and they deserve protection too. These [community] groups have to be accountable to the state and, when they don't exist, the state has to be there. 

Progressives get all the points I just made when it's applied to education. The notion that things be public and accountable to the state is understood when it comes to schools. It's exactly why so many people on the left are opposed to charter schools, because they say they don't have public accountability. They want these things to be a state function. But this point about the difficulty in removing this entirely from the hands of the state is, I think, one that liberals and progressives understand from other contexts.

Jake Blumgart is a staff writer at CityMetric.