Why frontline leadership must shape state and federal climate policy now more than ever.
Let’s start on what should be clear: environmental justice (EJ) is not the same thing as DEI (Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion), and confusing the two isn’t just inaccurate, it’s dangerous. Environmental justice is a movement. DEI is an internal strategy.
In response to growing calls for justice over the last several years, many institutions and organizations have expanded their DEI efforts. In the climate movement space, this has often translated into diversifying their workforce, hosting equity trainings, or adding a DEI lens to campaign planning.
EJ is rooted in decades of organizing by Black, Indigenous, Latinx, Asian American, Pacific Islander, and working-class communities. Communities that have always lived at the deadly intersection of environmental degradation and systemic racism. The EJ movement is about much more than inclusion; it’s about power. It’s about dismantling systems of extraction and pollution and ensuring that those most impacted by climate chaos are not just consulted, but are leading the solutions.
By contrast, DEI is often deployed to change who’s in the room, not who holds the power. When environmental justice is treated as a DEI initiative, it is flattened into a performance: a hire here, a listening session there. But climate injustice is not performative. It’s toxic air, poisoned water, mass displacement, and generations of health impacts.
And that’s why this distinction matters now more than ever.
The Trump Administration has already begun dismantling the fragile environmental and climate justice infrastructure that took years to build. Key staff working on environmental justice at the EPA and other agencies have been sidelined. Publicly available tools like EJScreen, which communities rely on to understand cumulative pollution burdens, are under threat of being erased. Agencies are rolling back implementation of the federal Justice40 Initiative, which was designed to direct at least 40 percent of climate investments to disadvantaged communities.
And perhaps most alarmingly, the administration is walking back rules around public participation and environmental review, making it harder for communities to know about, much less fight, polluting projects in their neighborhoods. This is not just a rollback of policy; it’s a silencing of the very voices most vital to effective climate action.
We are in a moment where climate solutions are being decided without the people who stand to lose the most, and who know the most about what works.
This isn’t to say DEI is irrelevant. In fact, DEI tools can strengthen environmental justice policy when they’re applied thoughtfully, not performatively. Equity assessments, language access mandates, and inclusive public engagement practices are all critical to ensuring EJ communities can participate meaningfully in decisions about land use, pollution, and climate investment.
But procedural equity is only one piece. We don’t just need participation, we need power shifts. We need to move resources, authority, and narrative control into the hands of the communities who have been living this crisis for generations.
The power of environmental justice isn’t theoretical. It’s been proven.
Take New Jersey’s landmark Environmental Justice Law, passed in 2020 after years of advocacy from frontline groups like Ironbound Community Corporation and the New Jersey Environmental Justice Alliance. The law gives the state the authority to deny permits for new polluting facilities in communities already overburdened by environmental harms. It’s one of the first of its kind in the nation, and it’s a direct result of EJ communities organizing, testifying, and demanding that cumulative impacts, not just individual permits, be considered in environmental decision-making.
And on the national level, we’ve seen similar EJ leadership shape stronger climate policy.
A prime example is the Inflation Reduction Act (IRA), the largest federal investment in climate action in U.S. history. While the law is far from perfect, it was significantly shaped by advocacy from environmental justice groups that pushed for provisions like the Environmental and Climate Justice Block Grants (Section 60201). This $3 billion investment secured through sustained pressure from EJ networks such as the Equitable and Just National Climate Platform, WE ACT for Environmental Justice, and the Deep South Center for Environmental Justice, will directly fund community-led climate projects focused on air pollution monitoring, extreme heat mitigation, and resilience in overburdened communities.
Without EJ advocates at the table, these investments would likely have gone to top-down programs that repeat historic patterns of harm. Instead, the block grants offer a model of how federal policy can shift power and resources to where they’re most needed, if frontline voices are centered. This kind of leadership strengthens climate policy for everyone. When EJ communities are at the table, the solutions are more grounded, more equitable, and more effective. They bring lived knowledge of resilience strategies, health impacts, and what it takes to make change stick in neighborhoods long ignored.
We’re at a crossroads. The federal government is walking away from climate justice at the exact moment when bold, community-led solutions are most needed. But the fight is not over and much of it will now shift to the state level.
That’s why we must double down on building power in environmental justice communities. This means making long-term investments in grassroots organizing; not just offering one-year grants, but committing to sustained funding that builds real capacity over time. It means advancing strong environmental justice legislation at the state level that prioritizes cumulative impacts and gives communities the authority to reject harmful projects. It also requires protecting and expanding local decision-making structures so EJ voices are included from the beginning, not as an afterthought. And as billions in federal and state climate funding are deployed, we must ensure that these resources are governed by coalitions led by frontline communities, not directed solely by legacy institutions with little accountability to those most affected. These are not side strategies; they are essential to building climate policy that is durable, democratic, and just.
In the face of federal rollbacks and political volatility, state action offers a powerful proving ground for EJ solutions. By centering frontline communities in decision-making and implementing policies that reflect their lived experiences, states can demonstrate how equity-driven climate action leads to healthier communities, stronger economies, and more resilient infrastructure. These successes don’t just deliver real benefits locally, they help shift the national narrative, showing that justice and effectiveness go hand in hand. State victories create blueprints that can scale, galvanize public will, and pressure federal institutions to catch up with the realities communities are already living and leading.
Environmental justice is not a sidebar to climate action. It is the framework that makes climate solutions real, durable, and just. If we’re serious about climate justice, then we must stop asking who is harmed and start asking who decides. Because when environmental justice communities lead, we all breathe easier.
Dalal Aboulhosn is Senior Director of Program & Policy at Center for Earth, Energy & Democracy (CEED). She has worked with multiple Presidential Administrations, Members of Congress and numerous frontline communities across the country on energy, conversation and justice issues.