The anecdote at the beginning of chapter 3 was very difficult for me to accept. It’s pretty abhorrent to me (although, again, not surprising) that our government conspired through hiring radiation consultants and private interest doctors to avoid paying claims “to nearly half a million ‘atomic veterans.’” It seems to me that veterans–men and women who sacrificed their health and livelihood for this country–ought to constitute the ethical bare minimum of government debt to public health, especially considering the fact that industry in the United States thrives on its military status. I was really interested in Shrader-Frechette’s evaluation of white-collar crimes as crimes which occur under the radar of public scrutiny, although they affect the public via pollution-related heath effects. It’s amazing to me that I could turn on the news and hear a dozen blue-collar crime stories about black men stealing or murdering, but rarely hear the headline, “This just in: the government’s trying to poison us again.” Especially since cases like Enron and Worldcom are socially destructive and ethically degenerative to our nation’s image on much more massive scales. And yet private interests keep these white collar crimes under wraps through agenda-driven front groups and privately funded think tanks, preventing the public from fulfilling our ethical rights to knowledge and consent. Shrader-Frechette rightly identifies the solution to lack of transparency in the United States as full disclosure of “media sources’ major funding sources.” She also addresses the need for citizen education, deliberative democracy, and active reforms.

Chapter 4 was very helpful in terms of tying together the themes of this class into a conclusive solution to issues of environmental injustice. Shrader-Frechette writes that citizens who participate in or benefit from social institutions that have caused environmental injustice “have prima facie dutues either to stop their participation in these institutions or to compensate for it by helping to reform them.” Shrader-Frechette identifies both ethical and democratic responsibilities of citizens to respond to environmental injustice. Specifically, we ought to help prevent and alleviate threats to human rights, which she defines as “protection of life and health… minimal standards for treatment of humans that governments, societies, and individuals ought to respect.” According to the author, “institutional orders that display radical inequality in the fulfillment of human rights are prima facie unjust,” and citizens that “regulate” this unjust order (eg, by electing officials) are partly responsible for its activity.

This is an issue close to my heart as I consider employment opportunities in the voluntary sector following graduation from Drake. Citizen responsibility is the primary ethical reason driving me to join the Peace Corps. The United States is at least moderately responsible for economic depression and sociopolitical upheaval in the global South, for environmental justice issues discussed previously in class (eg, pesticide exports, “free trade” agreements, e-waste exports, etc), and it’s my belief that U.S. citizens ought to compensate for the harmful effects of our nation on others to the best of our ability. For me, as a trained ecologist, that may mean teaching middle schoolers about the long-term economic benefits of wetland conservation in areas where oil-drilling is the only short-term solution to economic depression, or working with local NGOs in Latin America to create income-generating activities in central areas in order to prevent environmentally harmful activities like logging or poaching. These are simple things within my means that would help compensate for the U.S.’ contribution to developing dire situations in other nations.

Another interesting passage in the first chapter concerns the need for democratic responsibility and ethical responsibility. The former calls for us to recognize that we contribute to pollution harm. The latter requires that citizens “recognize that, at others’ expense, they benefit from pollution harm.” I think we can all agree that our class discussions about the global North lifestyle and its implications for injustice abroad have done a great deal to inspire democratic responsibility in our perspectives on environmental injustice. Ethical responsibility, I think, is a little more difficult to stomach for some people. It requires acknowledging that, as citizens within a democracy, we ought to be liable for the consequences of our nation’s actions. Incidentally, it’s arguable that we live in a democratic nation, which raises the question of whether Shrader-Frechette’s normative ideal of deliberative democracy is at all practical given certain structural aspects of our government, but I digress.

Shrader-Frechette outlines the major themes of this book: 1) private-interest science promotes private-interest ethics and threatens public health, 2) societal change in necessary for transformative growth, 3) unchecked institutional power threatens democracy, and 4) civic responsibility can yield public health benefits. She goes on to list some incredibly depressing facts and statistics concerning cancer, air pollution, and environmental injustice in poor and minority communities and developing countries.

Chapter two outlines the unethical strategies that polluters use to mislead citizens and profit from pollution. This was a particularly interesting chapter; it helped clarify a number of specific processes in government regulation (or lack thereof) and the exercise of U.S. industry power which lead to patterns of environmental injustice and compromise democratic ideals. For instance, regulatory capture (the control or influence of government regulators by the industries they’re supposed to regulate) was a process I always assumed was real because I’m a skeptical and generally pessimistic person (especially when it comes to corporate or governmental power) but have never learned about specifically. Shrader-Frechette concludes that special-interest behaviors like regulatory capture and “white collar crime” ought to be challenged with action, and furthermore that citizens are obligated to fulfill this role in a deliberative democracy.

1. Factory Farming
The Issue: Political and economic power is distributed disproportionately in favor of giant agribusiness corporations that maximize profits by producing huge agricultural outputs. Factory farms drive local farms out of business by outcompeting them in a globalized economy. Factory farms also pollute the air, water and soil in Iowa, thereby threatening the quality of life for local communities.
Long-term Goals:
A) Elect government officials and pressure those in office to legislate for and enforce strict restrictions on environmentally harmful factory farm practices (ie, hydrogen sulfide and ammonia emissions, hog manure spills into metro water supplies).
B) Improve permitting and siting processes by shifting power to local communities in order to ensure that the public is able to control its health and welfare. Specifically, CCI supports campaign finance reform by way of voter-owned elections, which would deter special interest money from political campaigns and reduce the disproportionate political power of corporations.

2. Immigrant Rights
The Issue: Latino immigrants have helped maintain and develop the Iowa economy, yet they face poor working conditions and financial and housing discrimination in the very state they serve. The recent ICE raid of Agriprocessors Inc in Postville, Iowa left at least 400 undocumented workers displaced and unemployed.
Long-Term Goals:
A) Reform immigration law such that CEOs are held responsible rather than demonizing the immigrant workers they employ, upholding constitutional rights to due process for employees taken into detention, and pressuring Congress to provide a realistic solution for immigrant workers living and working in Iowa.

While on the topic of creating change through knowledge, this morning I listened to a very interesting NPR interview with William Ayers, an anti-Vietnam War activist and popularly assailed “terrorist” and Obama campaign conspirator. However reprehensible his activism may have been in response to an unquestionably reprehensible period of global terrorism on the part of the United States government, he happens to be a very eloquent, moving speaker and had this to say about becoming an activist for social justice:

“You cannot live a political life, you can’t live a moral life, if you’re not willing to open your eyes and see the world more clearly, see some of the injustices going on. Try to make yourself aware of what’s happening in the world, and if you are aware, you have a responsibility to act, and when you act, you have a responsibility to doubt. And when you doubt, you can’t get paralyzed; you have to use that doubt to act again. And that then becomes the cycle: you open your eyes, you act, you doubt. And without doubt, you become dogmatic and shrill and stupid. And without action, you become cynical and passive and a victim of history. And that should never happen.” – William Ayers, Fresh Air from WHYY, National Public Radio, November 18, 2008

I agree that the corporate workplace must facilitate the right of employees to organize and communicate concerns between co-workers and managers, but change must occur on the state and federal levels in order to save lives in Silicon Valley. It’s not enough for “clean room” workers to say “not in my plant,” or Californians to say “not in my backyard.” That’s fine for California, but consider the corporations in neighboring states that will outcompete reformed corporations by profiting from less stringent ethical standards. Saving lives in Silicon Valley and beyond requires a large-scale movement on the part of a collective consciousness. To be global activists, we must organize under the presupposition that what is poisonous for one city is poisonous for us all.

For example, Raj Jayadev, the industry worker/activist discussed at the beginning of chapter 7, continued battling injustice in the workplace even after being fired from the aptly named Manpower, where he became aware of occupational hazards in Silicon Valley and began fighting for safety regulations. The authors explain that “few workers are able or willing to take such steps because of the very real likelihood that they will be banned from the industry and their entire family’s livelihood threatened.” Not only does this case speak to the severe disenfranchisement of certain groups in America, but it should communicate obligation to those of us fortunate enough not to be in that position. Those of us with job security ought to demand the same privileges to those without.

These chapters were horrifying but, amazingly, not particularly surprising. I’ve started to notice this reaction–lack of surprise–to most of our more incendiary readings lately, and it concerns me. I’ve read a lot on the topic of environmental justice outside of class, but in this case, I’m not sure that ignorance on the topic is attributed to surprise in response. At least, not the kind of surprise I’m talking about–that gut-clenching, ugly, betrayed feeling I used to get. That’s the reaction that I think drives us to action.

So then. Why am I not surprised? Have I been conditioned to remove myself from environmental justice horror stories like those described in this book? I’m obviously not of the opinion that some sacrifices/injustices need to be made for technological advancement, which I think is how situations like Silicon Valley are justified and ultimately ignored. Maybe I’ve come to expect that corporations are always responsible for poisoning the earth and entire populations of underrepresented people.

I suppose this concerns me because my expectation of injustice seems to lend itself to inaction, or at the very least want of personal betrayal, in response to injustice. I feel jaded.

I think that’s how a lot of people in this class react. It certainly makes it difficult to work out an organized response to environmental injustice. It just seems like such a large-scale, daunting job that no small action can satisfy. I can live my life more ethically, but that will hardly make a dent. Obama had this to say in response to a silly question about what he’s done in his personal life to fight climate change: “We can’t solve global warming because I changed some fucking light bulbs in my house. It’s because of something collective.” I think that’s why our collective desensitization to injustice–our understanding of injustice as something that happens to other people in other countries–is such a huge obstacle in our endeavor toward a more just society.

Chapter four describes the area’s transition into a post-agricultural economy as the electronic industry eventually displaced canneries as the largest industry in Santa Clara County. The first part of this chapter, about the military-industrial-university complex, was very interesting. The authors point out that the U.S. military is the “largest producer of toxic waste in the nation” and that the use of toxics in the high-tech industry of Silicon Valley “emerged from ‘advances’ made in the military, chemical, and agricultural industries.” During the Cold War, military demand took national priority and shaped technological and economic development in Santa Clara County. For instance, The Food Machinery and Chemical Corporation (FMC), which once manufactured the equipment used on canneries, undertook construction of an armament in San Jose. This reminded me of Dow Chemical’s role in the Vietnam War, solidified with their production of Agent Orange. Under any other circumstances, Dow Chemical would’ve been doing exactly what it claims to do (produce effective pesticides). In this case, it produced a weapon of war. This reflects the authors’ caveat at the end of chapter two about the role of transnational corporations in global environmental injustice and Pellow’s interests in the topics leading to Resisting Global Toxics.

The discussion and analyses in chapter five are very compelling. In this chapter, the authors challenge the claim that Silicon Valley represents a “land of opportunity” in which immigrants, people of color and women workers can increase their wages and climb the career ladder. The same “clean image” is presented by the 1965 Immigration Act, which allowed a massive influx of immigrants on work visas to seek employment in California, although the only jobs they could get were low-wage positions in the high-tech industry. As a result, the industry benefited from this cheap labor and the immigrants, people of color and women they hire suffer as a result of income inequity and the absurd cost of living in Silicon Valley.

The topic of selective recruitment was one of the more interesting topics discussed in this book thus far, probably because it’s one of the few topics we haven’t already read about at length. I was pretty astounded to discover that 70-80% of production workers in Silicon Valley are immigrants, people of color and women. This pattern is highly suspect, especially for an industrial area producing such incredible wealth. Silicon Valley was clearly built on the backs of immigrants, people of color and women. An ethically upstanding community, one striving for a “clean image,” ought to enforce more equitable legislation in light of this fact.

The second focus outlined in chapter one is the workplace as an environmental concern. This seems pretty obvious to me, probably because we already read a similar argument in Shrader-Frechette’s book. The third focus of this study is environmental injustice toward women in the workplace. I’m relieved that we’re finally reading a book that discusses the direct role of women in environmental justice issues. All four books we’ve read on the subject have completely overlooked the fact that women are targeted for and disproportionately suffer from environmental inequality. The fourth and final focus of this study is global environmental inequality.

Chapter two is a historical account of Spanish conquest of Native American Ohlone communities, the Gold Rush in California and Chinese immigration into the “free labor state.” The authors point out that racial minorities were used for the most dangerous mining work in Santa Clara County, framing the racial division of labor in its historical context. Overall I didn’t learn anything new or (unfortunately) particularly surprising in chapter two.

The author faults economic globalization for this trend, and I agree completely. Transnational free markets are designed to “erase trade barriers” across national borders such that any product—no matter how toxic—can be easily exported from producing nations whose standards forbid its use. This political economy is a profoundly hypocritical and unethical. In principle, public health and environmental safety standards ought to be universal—if a pesticide causes cancer in one country, it’s like to cause cancer in another, and regulations ought to reflect this. Clearly, the Basel Ban has been inadequate at preventing the global North from exporting hazardous materials to the global South if the former can continue to do so illegally. More stringent regulation and oversight is in order.

For all its faults as an organization, I really admire Greenpeace’s “return to sender” approach to the environmental injustices committed against Haiti and Abaco. This is probably one of the more productive things that activists can do to challenge the overwhelming “out of sight, out of mind” mentality that consumers and producers share with regard to hazardous waste. However, it is insufficient as a remedy to the deep-seated racism, classism and nationalism that ultimately drives environmental inequality in the global South.

Chapter 4 describes the “out of sight, out of mind mentality” that global North nations adopt in order to ignore domestic and global environmental injustice. I thought that Charles Mills’ psychological and cultural analysis on perspectives of people of color as sources of “garbage” and “filth” was really telling, although I’d counter that most consumers probably have no idea where their waste is disposed of thanks to our out of sight, out of mind mentality. In any case, I agree with Pellow’s final diagnosis of the problem as waste colonialism, the only cure for which is clean production and the marked reduction in our consumption. As such, I definitely see the value of our class assignment to carry our garbage around with us every day. I’m reminded of a series of commercials by Brita, which attempt to make consumers more aware of the long-term environmental effects of their daily actions (buying bottled water)—albeit for the purposes of consuming yet another product (Brita filters, made of the same materials and equally as difficult to dispose of). It’s an essential mentality that we as members of a consumer culture must adopt in order to change global social and environmental inequalities.

I was surprised to learn about domestic “sham recycling” affecting communities like Madras, India. I recycle most of the domestic waste that comes out of my apartment (every ounce of my garbage is organic and could easily be converted to compost—if I had use for compost), and it was disturbing to think that the plastic products I use could end up poisoning the air or a factory worker and her kids in India. Again, I think that the only consumer-based solution to unjust scenarios like this is to stop buying products marketed such that they harm disenfranchised communities in the global South. This is a small sacrifice for my lifestyle, and one that I’m willing and able to make in order to contribute to the greater struggle for transnational environmental justice.

In the second chapter, the author characterizes the findings of a number of race studies, connecting our society’s poison of racism to the “ideological foundations supporting [structural racism and economic oppression] in world history.” The most interesting topic in this chapter was the author’s two critiques of current race studies. Pellow criticizes studies of race and economics for largely ignoring the instrumental role of powerful corporations in driving capitalism, conquest and slavery throughout history. He also notes that few race studies adequately examine institutional racism’s facilitation of environmental inequality. By understanding these two foundations of environmental inequity, EJ advocates and scholars can more adequately evaluate the socioeconomic processes that lead to certain groups (the global North) dominating others (the global South) and develop a more pragmatic understanding of racism.

Pellow points out that the global North is relatively affluent compared to the global South, affording those nations the ability to demand better life quality in terms of environmental conditions. We discussed this correlation after reading Cox’s article “Prospects for Environmental Justice.” The result of this affluence, of course, is a shift in Northern waste to Southern nations, where environmental regulations are generally inexpensive and less stringent. Pellow calls this trend “toxic colonialism” for its roots in institutional racism and colonial-period concepts of racial minorities. Interestingly, Pellow writes that the efforts of predominantly white Northern NGOs or TSMOs to correct toxic colonialism in the global South is sometimes received as cultural imperialism, the continued efforts of western society to push their ideals on other nations. Awareness of and sensitivity toward this perception is critical in order to develop effective transnational organizations.