How to talk about environmental racism/justice: Part 1
In today’s climate, where conversations about climate change, the environment and social justice can quickly spiral into a firestorm of insults, misinformation, and hurt feelings, I find myself asking two questions:
1. How can we have a productive conversation about environmental racism and injustice?
2. How do we ultimately bring about decisive action for anti-racist/ equitable environmental justice?
For some of you reading this, this could be your first hearing about environmental justice or racism. But it may not be the first time you’ve experienced environmental injustice / racism. To help you along, allow me to borrow your imagination for a moment.
Think back to where you grew up. Picture your neighbourhood. For some of you, you’ll remember the freshly paved sidewalks, escorted by patches of green shrubbery. The streets are filled with homes (or apartments if you live in a city). And no matter what the homes look like, big or small, they are well looked after with proper insulation and ventilation. Your neighbourhood has a playground that is the hub of your childhood memories, a mixture of well-kept playground equipment, large trees, and seemingly endless grass fields to play in. It never seems like nature is never out of reach. The air might smell of freshly cut lawn clippings or the blossoming of fragrant flowers, the first sign of spring. Maybe you can smell the saltiness of the ocean if you live close enough. But one thing is for sure: the air is crisp and clean.
Your neighbourhood might have a central supermarket with a variety of fresh, healthy food options that you can afford. And while there might be the occasional fast-food restaurant, there are plenty of sit-down restaurants that you can enjoy. There are lots of businesses.
And you never have to worry about your local government listening to the concerns of your neighbourhood. If there’s a problem, it’s solved without a second thought. In fact, your issues are always heard.
However, for others, your image takes a darker hue. Your neighbourhood is a concrete desert. Trees are sparse and often look sickly. There may be some greenery, but it exists in spite rather than by design. The houses (or apartments) aren’t in the best shape, with dampness, mould and poor ventilation blighting the indoors. Instead of fresh air, there’s a constant smell of something metallic, chemical, or smog-like. A scent that seems thicker in some areas than others but always seems to linger. Sometimes, if it is a particularly bad day, you find yourself with a cough that you just can’t shake. Your playground, if there is one, is surrounded by rundown buildings, empty lots and industrial factories. The good park in the good neighbourhood is too far to reach by foot or the bus doesn’t travel to your side that often or at all and if you somehow manage to get there you do go… you don’t always feel welcome.
Sure, there might be a creek or small stream nearby, and your parents and grandparents tell you about all the times they used to play and swim in the clear creek waters, but you can’t because the creek’s waters are murky with waste, riddled with trash and spiked with vibrant warning signs about swimming in the river. The sidewalks are constantly cracked and uneven. There may or may not be a local grocery store within walking distance where you can get fresh fruits and vegetables (if you can afford it), yet there always seem to be plenty of fast-food restaurants, takeaways, and corner stores (Dairies for my New Zealanders or Bodegas for my New Yorkers).
No matter how often you go to your local government to express your concerns, it seems you are never listened to. You are brushed aside when you complain about the new factory being placed near the local park and how it impacts your community. Issues around infrastructure are either minimized or ignored. Your concern regarding your community is ignored.
As you read this, you might wonder: why would there be such a distinct difference? Shouldn’t all neighbourhoods be environmentally healthy? Unfortunately, that’s not the case. Some communities are more likely to be exposed to environmental risks (for example, polluting waste facilities) and denied environmental benefits (for example, clean, green spaces). And the reasons are tied to historical and present-day social injustices.
This difference is known as environmental injustice.
What is Environmental Justice Anyway?
Before defining environmental justice, I should explain what ‘environment’ means. In scholarship, environment is a surprisingly tricky term to define and is usually contextualized in the knowledge space in which it is being discussed. In the case of environmental justice, the environment doesn’t just include the natural space (e.g. forests, oceans, etc.) and the social and built environment (e.g., schools, workplaces, homes, neighbourhoods). As Dr. Robert Bullard states, the environment is where you work, live, play, pray and learn.
Similar to the environment, environmental justice does not have one definition. It’s a social movement, a response to environmentalism, which centres on the voices of the white, middle-upper class and their relationship to the environment (through conservation and recreation) and simultaneously, ignores the experiences of non-white, Indigenous, poorer and other historically marginalized communities.
Environmental justice also holds a space in academia, cultivated by many scholars, including Robert Bullard, David Schlosberg, Dorceta Taylor, Laura Pulido and Gordon Walker. Below is a simple chart describing the types of justice and frameworks often included in defining environmental justice.
Dr. Robert Bullard, the father of Environmental Justice, defines it as “the principle that all communities are entitled to equal protection of environmental, energy, health, employment, education, housing, transportation, civil, and human rights.”. The inverse of that, environmental injustice, is the disproportionate exposure to environmental risks (e.g. proximity to power plants) and denial of access to environmental benefits e.g. access to parks).
Environmental justice brings issues of race, class, gender and other social dynamics to environmentalism, recognizing the role that other forms of social injustice play in environmental inequality. In the image below is a diagram of the different rights of social issues that come into place in environmental justice.
What about Environmental Racism?
Speaking of race, you can’t really talk about environmental justice without talking about environmental racism, as the two work hand in hand and were developed as terms as a result of infamous dumping of PCB (Poly Chlorinated Biphenyl) in Warren County, North Carolina and the resulting protests in the 1980s. (For more information about the PCB dumping in North Carolina and the resulting protests: How everyday people started a movement that’s shaping climate action to this day)
Environmental Racism was first coined by Dr. Reverend Benjamin Chavis and defined as
“ racial discrimination in environmental policymaking and the unequal enforcement of environmental laws and regulations. It is the deliberate targeting of people of colour communities for toxic waste facilities and the official sanctioning of a life-threatening presence of poisons and pollutants in people of colour communities. It is also manifested in the history of excluding people of colour from the leadership of the environmental movement.” – Directly from Dr Reverend Benjamin Chavis (States et al., 1994, p. 6)
Dr Bullard condenses the definition of environmental racism as “any policy, practice or directive that differentially affects or disadvantages (where intended or unintended) individuals, groups or communities based on race.”
I highlighted indented or unintended because intent is a contentious area of discussion around environmental racism and environmental justice. Earlier definitions of environmental racism focused on the malicious and deliberate intent of governments, positioning them as purposefully targeting racially and economically marginalized communities. The problem with this focus was that it was hard to prove, especially in court. For example, when the people of Warren Country tried to sue the EPA and government for an injunction, the judge at the time ruled that there was no evidence that the decisions made to dump the PCB in Warren County was racially motivated. Despite the fact that the PCB dumped along the side of the road was in a mostly low- income African American community.
However, the present-day understanding of environmental racism recognizes that legislation (including environmental) and government-sponsored initiatives could lead to environmental racism and injustice without directly intending to. This by no means reduces the ultimate impact of environmental injustice on vulnerable communities.
Environmental racism is a form of systemic racism caused by practices and policies (past and present) that benefited wealthy white communities at the expense of lower-income and non-white communities. These communities are disproportionately burdened by exposure to environmental risks (polluting waste management facilities, garbage dumps, etc.) and are excluded from environmental benefits (clean green spaces, fresh air, etc.) due to instances of historical (and present day) discrimination.
For example, in the US, the history of segregation and redlining, forced African- Americans to live in areas in close proximity to waste pollutants, while denying access to clean and green spaces. The housing in those areas (especially in the cities) were more likely to be made with hazardous materials (e.g. lead paint and piping) These areas were lower valued and became the perfect place for hazardous industries to setup. Furthermore, due to the government’s lack of environmental enforcement in those communities, hazardous industry after hazardous industry were able to set up in those communities, leading to generational exposure (parent to child) to pollutants and the resulting health issues. Furthermore, these communities were less likely to have the financial and political power to push back against these companies being placed in their community in comparison to wealthier and majority white communities (Not in My Backyard or Nimby).
Even when dejour discrimination policies like segregation and redlining ended, the lingering consequences lead to examples of present-day environmental injustice and environmental racism. Specific examples include:
Water Crisis in Flint Michigan: The local government in Flint Michigan changed the water supply source in order to save money. However, due to their lack of due diligence in water testing, the majority Black community in Flint were exposed to high levels of Lead. The health consequences of the lead exposure include brain and development impairment in children as well as kidney and heart disease in adults.
Asthma Alley: Asthma Alley is the unfortunate nickname the Mott Haven neighbourhood in the South Bronx (NY). The low income, mostly black and Hispanic community has the some of the worst air pollution in the US. The community is exposed to on-going exhaust fumes created by the constat traffic from the four nearby highways. In addition, they are close to a sewage station and a few other pollutions sources. Despite their small size, the community experiences asthma hospitalizations at a rate of 21 times higher than other New York City Neighbourhoods.
Cancer Valley: Similar to Asthma Alley, Cancer Alley is the unfortunate nickname of an 85-mile (137 km) strip of land that runs along the Mississippi River between Baton Rouge and New Orleans. The area has approximately 200 petrochemical plants and refineries. The area is home to a majority Black, low income, and other underrepresented communities. The plants and refiners have released pollutants in the air, water supply and surrounding land. As a result, residents of the area report high instances of cancer, along with respiratory issues and birth defects.
Read part 2 of our Environmental Justice series here.
This series was written by our Head of Standards, Dr Andrea Edwards. To inspire you further, Andrea has put together a playlist filled with 50 tunes related to environmental and climate justice. Grab your headphones and have a listen here.
Clare Hobby – Global Director of External Engagement at TCO Certified, Board Member at the Sustainable Leadership Purchasing Council
Clare has been working in sustainability for over 20 years — before it was cool, and before most companies knew what scope 3 emissions were. Her main challenge today is getting companies to look beyond emissions data to other factors like biodiversity, human rights, etc. This includes encouraging organisations to focus on actions that actually move the needle – sustainable purchasing, product longevity, and greater access to renewable energy.
What first drew you to working in sustainability, and what keeps you motivated?
I like to say I “slid on a banana peel” into sustainability before it became mainstream. Back in the late ‘90s I worked in the foreign service and was on a trade mission with a number of sustainability-focused organizations. I was so inspired by their commitment to the issues, and something clicked – sustainability was where I belonged.
Can you tell us about the sustainability challenge you’re most focused on right now?
Right now we’re focused on circularity as a way of reducing the climate impact of electronics. Upwards of 80% of the lifetime emissions in the average computer happen in the manufacturing phase, so this means we have to make sure that electronics are designed and made to last. That way we can reduce the need for excess manufacturing. But good design and manufacturing are only part of the story. The important challenge for all of us is to use our IT products longer. Take care of them, share and repair. It makes a big difference to the climate impact and slows the flow of e-waste – and we’re also working on a sustainable cloud initiative, so stay tuned.
What helps you stay effective in this field without burning out or compromising your values?
Two things keep me going – the mission and the people! The mission is clear and there’s still work to do. The people are the glue! I’ve had the opportunity to work alongside the most dedicated and interesting people I could hope for. From interviewing factory workers in China, to working on complex sustainability challenges with our team, or representing TCO Certified in UN meetings, there’s a deep appreciation that comes from this shared commitment to a more sustainable world. I’m also really grateful to work for an organisation where sustainability impact is the number one goal. It’s in our DNA. This clarity is so important so we can lead with purpose and integrity.
Moumita Das Roy – Commercial Communications Manager, Dulux NZ
Moumita’s path to sustainability wasn’t a straight line, it evolved from her lived experiences. At Dulux NZ, Moumita’s work sits at the intersection of marketing, communication, and sustainability, helping to translate complex environmental commitments into stories that customers, partners, and communities can understand and trust.
What first drew you to working in sustainability, and what keeps you motivated?
My sustainability journey wasn’t planned. It evolved from my lived experiences. Migrating to Aotearoa meant rebuilding both life and career, and that process made me deeply conscious of resources, resilience, and community. I learned quickly that nothing should be taken for granted. Not opportunities, not materials, not the environment that sustains us. As a communicator, I became increasingly aware that sustainability succeeds or fails based on how well we tell its story. Data alone rarely changes behaviour; connection does. That realisation drew me toward my sustainability work.
What’s surprised you most about the barriers that still exist in the sustainability space?
The biggest barriers aren’t technological, they’re human. Real progress happens when sustainability becomes a shared responsibility rather than a specialist function. When people understand that small, consistent decisions matter, momentum builds naturally.
How can women building a career in sustainability be better supported?
We need to broaden our understanding of what sustainability leadership looks like. Many women arrive in this field through non-traditional pathways. Communications, community engagement, design, or business strategy. Support means reducing the invisible burden of constantly proving credibility, particularly for migrant and culturally diverse women navigating new professional environments. Sustainability requires collaboration, empathy, and long-term thinking, qualities often undervalued in traditional leadership models but critical for systemic change. Creating spaces where those strengths are recognised will help more women thrive in this sector.
Elisha Willeam Peter – Sustainability Consultant, Tonkin + Taylor
Elisha works in climate change, helping businesses with their emissions reduction plans, carbon inventories, ecolabel verifications, and climate risk assessments. She represents what it feels like to be a young person navigating climate anxiety while continuing to show up with passion and persistence to create a sustainable future.
What first drew you to working in sustainability, and what keeps you motivated?
I’ve always wanted to work in the environmental space but I never realised there was such a defined field as sustainability when I was at university. After graduating, I looked for roles that would allow me to contribute to environmental issues, and that’s how I found my first sustainability role. You could say I stumbled into it, but I’m so glad I did. Working in sustainability has opened my eyes to the human side of things. I’ve learned that actions, policies, and decisions all have very tangible impacts on both the environment and communities. We can’t make decisions that protect the planet at the expense of people, there has to be a balance. That’s what keeps me motivated.
How can women building a career in sustainability be better supported?
I genuinely believe that women supporting women goes a long way. I’ve been fortunate to have been surrounded by admirable and inspiring women, both professionally and personally. Throughout my career so far, I’ve been guided by women who have encouraged me to develop my technical skills and challenged me to step outside my comfort zone. It’s also important to create safe and inclusive spaces that amplify women’s voices. Many women, myself included, can find it difficult to assert ourselves in discussions, so building spaces where we feel comfortable speaking up and developing our public speaking and leadership skills is essential.
What helps you stay effective in this field without burning out or compromising your values?
It hasn’t always been easy. With increasing competition in the field and tight budgets often leading organisations deprioritising sustainability, it can feel like an uphill battle. But I try to remind myself that even small, consistent actions are much better than doing nothing at all. When things do get too overwhelming, I make it a point to recognize that and take time to step back — whether that means slowing down, spending time in nature, or leaning on my colleagues in the sustainability space who share the same passion and understand the challenges. Those moments of rest and connection really help me stay grounded and stay true to my values.
Gabriela Baron – Senior Lecturer, Faculty of Engineering and Design, University of Auckland
Gabriela’s work sits at the intersection of design, conservation, and community participation. She’s particularly focused on how we reimagine conservation — not as separation from nature, but as relationship woven into culture, education, and everyday decision-making.
What first drew you to working in sustainability, and what keeps you motivated?
I was first drawn to sustainability because I felt, very deeply, that the way human systems operated were disconnected from life itself, from land, from community, from our own inner nature. Sustainability, for me, was never a technical misalignment, but about remembering that we are part of living systems.
What keeps me motivated is purpose. Purpose is not something you find once and can never look back, it is something that keeps calling you forward, especially on days when you feel lost. I find strength in helping people rediscover their relationship with the more-than-human world. I believe purpose is like a quiet compass, it picks you up when you are discouraged and it reminds you why the work matters when the world feels overwhelming.
What’s surprised you most about the barriers that still exist in the sustainability space?
What surprises me the most is how often sustainability is still framed through structures of control rather than relationship. Sometimes the conversation is purely technical, very institutional, or very male-dominated in its style of leadership, and we risk forgetting the emotional, cultural, and spiritual dimensions of how humans are interwoven with natural systems.
Another barrier is the persistence of voices telling women that they must choose between softness and strength, between care and intellectual rigor, between nurturing and leadership. I don’t believe these are opposites. I believe they are different expressions of the same creative force.
How can women building a career in sustainability be better supported?
Women in sustainability need spaces where they can grow without having to shrink parts of themselves to fit into existing systems. We need communities of women who celebrate each other’s success, who lift each other up, and who remind each other that our value is not defined by how loudly we speak or how hard we perform. I think of it as a kind of rewilding: allowing ourselves to step out of the domestication of external expectations and reconnect with our own inner rhythms, creativity, and wisdom. And let feminine energies express themselves in the ways that feel most natural and unique to each of us.
We need diversity and redundancy. I would love to see more mentorship, more cross-generational connection, more spaces where girls and women can see themselves reflected in leadership, science, design, and conservation (through a feminine, relentless lens) and where they can feel free to find their tribe of women who celebrate life, beauty, and purpose together.
Rachael Randal – Manager, Sustainable Procurement & Supply Chain Partnerships, Science and Sustainability Auckland Transport
Rachael leads a sustainability and procurement team at Auckland Transport, working across $2 billion worth of contracts to turn sustainability commitments into measurable outcomes. She’s not just a champion of sustainable procurement but takes an intersectional approach to sustainability as she works to advance economic, environmental and social rights for all.
What first drew you to working in sustainability, and what keeps you motivated?
I spent the first part of my career working in communications and engagement in the healthcare sector. My favourite part of that mahi was working closely with patient advocacy groups, hearing about their experiences navigating complex systems. The people I met and worked with taught me to look at policy and strategy through an equity lens and to always ask questions about whose voice is being heard, who is the system designed for, and why.
After having children and when my second child was a toddler, I made the decision to go back to university to do postgraduate study and master’s research focussed on the social, political and economic dimensions of global environmental change. Together, these experiences have shaped how I think about environmental, social and economic rights, climate action and sustainability, and the importance of always critically interrogating the power dynamics at play.
What’s surprised you most about the barriers that still exist in the sustainability space?
What surprises and worries me the most is how narrow the sustainability lens can become. There’s a real risk of carbon tunnel vision, where reporting emissions becomes the dominant, sometimes only, focus. Reducing emissions is critical, of course, and we do need to measure and report to demonstrate this. But if we pursue it in isolation, we won’t get the outcome we need. Sustainability isn’t single-issue, it’s about ‘meeting the needs of the present without compromising the ability of future generations to meet their own needs.’ Environmental, social, and economic systems intersect. If we electrify a fleet but ignore questions around who benefits and who is left behind, or transition industries without thinking about biodiversity, workforce impacts and even accept that people around the world will be exploited and human rights will be degraded in the process, we have totally missed the point.
I’m also often surprised by how little understanding there still is about intersectionality. The communities most affected by environmental degradation and climate related hazards are the same communities facing economic exclusion, systemic racism and other discrimination, or health, housing and education inequities. People don’t experience climate risk, economic insecurity or social marginalisation in neat silos. They experience them simultaneously and these harms and disparities exacerbate each other.
What would progress look like in your industry five years from now? What needs to change to get there?
The rate of change can often feel frustratingly slow, but when I look back across the last 5 years, it’s clear that progress has been made, and this is much easier to demonstrate now we have better systems for data capture, monitoring and impact evaluation. Five years from now, I’d like to see more recognition around New Zealand of the important role of procurement in enabling organisations’ sustainability commitments. This is key if they are to move beyond ambition statements to action and progress.
I’d also like to see more cross-sector collaboration, as this is essential if we are to generate meaningful outcomes. Clarity on where each entity sits within the theory of change so we can each understand our role in the system will help organisations to align decisions accordingly and maximise our collective impact.
