The lack of importance that Kingspan has placed on employee complaints about safe work environments suggests a lack of inbuilt methods (e.g., regular strict evaluation of workplace standards) of holding a company like Kingspan accountable for the health of their workers, despite the existence of workplace standards.
This event showed the very real ways in which large corporations directly profit from cutting corners in ways that hurt the health of their lowest-wage workers. The effort it takes to hold a company accountable for the health of their workers is immense, and while the groups present at this event are clearly making it happen, this accountability is not systematically enforced and requires individuals and relatively small organizations to impose justice.
The need for multiple agents to commit to EJ changes like this, including many not directly affected by it.
The power of both local and global community organization networks in creating change.
Civic responsibility as a necessary catalyst for political change and attention to certain issues.
Dr. Masri presented data collected by the Kingspan workers that clearly showed levels of air pollution at the plant that were much higher than EPA allowable levels during working hours.
The event was primarily focused on efforts by Kingspan workers and supporting parties to get Kingspan to improve working conditions, especially indoor air pollution at the plant.
Attendees included: city council members, Kingspan workers, Greenpeace, Sierra Club, Climate Action Campaign. Notably, all the primary facilitators were white. One of the Kingspan workers required a Spanish-speaking interpreter. It was implied at one point that the workers were paid minimum wage, but I am not 100% sure of this.
The event was held over Zoom (but was primarily for and about workers in Santa Ana, CA) and was organized by the Labor Network for Sustainability.
“It is difficult to imagine any of these studies exerting as much of an impact on public discourse and policy as they did if they had not been closely connected to litigation, advocacy, and regulatory interest in addressing the emerging issue of environmental justice.” (6)
“EJ scholarship has uncovered environmental and health disparities based not only on race, class, and gender, but also on ethnicity, nationality, indigenous status, immigration and citizenship status, sexual orientation, age, and the intersections among these categories (Nyseth-Brehm & Pellow, 2014; Chakraborty, Collins, & Grineski, 2016; Gaard, 2018). Activists are increasingly appealing to these diverse axes of identity to mobilize broad-based organizing on environmental, healthcare, and immigration policies (Hestres & Nisbet, 2018).” (9)
“In Europe, EJ is often seen as an extension of protections for human rights, including rights of access to environmental information, participation in decision making, and access to the courts, which are enshrined in the United Nations Economic Convention for Europe’s1998 Aarhus Convention (Mason, 2010). In the global South, EJ issues are more often framed as matters of climate justice, participatory and sustainable development and conservation, indigenous and women’s rights, food and energy sovereignty, workplace safety and health, or the environmentalism of the poor (Carmin & Agyeman, 2011; Carruthers, 2008; Martinez-Alier, 2002; Reed & George, 2018; Walker, 2012).” (10)
“The goals of community-engaged scholarship are the generation, exchange and application of mutually beneficial and socially useful knowledge and practices developed through active partnerships between the academy and the community (Engagement Scholarship Consortium, 2018).” (11)
“A more inclusive scholarly process is crucial for strengthening marginalized groups’ rights to access and create knowledge that can help build their power to influence regulation, policy, and institutional practices. ES is scholarship “done with, rather than for or on, a community” (Furco, 2005, p. 10), and this is reason alone to prefer ES to other modes of inquiry into EJ.” (15)
“Ensuring that map making is a democratic process owned and controlled by community members requires that local people, not outside researchers, define the geographic or other boundaries over what counts as part of the “community.””(29)
“EJ research can also ground-truth existing regulatory data that is out-of-date or incomplete, especially emissions data that is reported by industry. In addition, ground-truthing can show how environmental standards for broad geographic areas can fail to protect EJ communities from pollution hot spots that exceed those standards.” (31)
“Data scientists can also use large data sets and algorithms to develop new measures of environmental and social inequities. For example, a team led by researchers at the University of Minnesota recently created a “pollution inequity” metric, which measures the difference between the environmental health damage caused and experienced by a group or individual...” (33)
“While real-time analysis of crowdsourced data can help track the immediate effects of environmental disasters, it may not be as useful for documenting long-term, cumulative toxic exposures typical of many EJ issues. … Much of that expertise is concentrated in corporate, government, and academic institutions, which may be unable or unwilling to collaborate with community-based EJ organizations. EJ researchers could play a valuable role in helping to foster big data literacy…” (33)
“EJ storytelling is a means of gathering testimonial evidence for research and organizing (Evans, 2002). Stories are a grassroots form of making meaning that is often more accessible and immediate in its impacts than academic research, building commitment to collective action (Newman, 2012). Storytelling lends itself to communicating complex causality in a form that can be more memorable than scientific data (Griffiths, 2007).” (34)
In the “Introduction” and “Foundations” sections, the author describes the utility of an “engaged scholarship” approach to academic environmental justice research and outlines several models for engaged scholarship. These models lie along the spectra of the apolitical to the political, and include different types of development, types of engagement, and types of expertise. The author argues in favor of an engaged scholarship approach to EJ as a way to root EJ research in actual EiJ problems and EJ needs. Note that the author defines EJ with the four dimensions of distributive justice, procedural justice, process justice, and restorative/corrective justice.
The sections II. METHODS and III. CHALLENGES AND RESPONSES detail methods and potential pitfalls in engaged scholarship with local communities. Methods can include: investment in easy-to-use and low cost technologies for citizen science uses (e.g., online mapping tools, low cost air quality monitoring devices), using storytelling methods for cultural research and to advance EJ goals, and adequately training and preparing researchers for community collaborations (see Hyde (2017) framework on pg. 38). Pitfalls can include: scholars assuming homogeneity in a community, tensions between community goals and academic goals (e.g., scholarly productivity vs. community education), and limitations imposed by academic IRBs for collaboration. The author provides several examples of community collaboration focus, with an apparent focus on citizen science/crowdsourced data collection efforts.
“Environmental justice (EJ) scholars and activists see communities’ ability to participate meaningfully in decisions that affect the local environment, including siting decisions for refineries, power plants, waste dumps, and the like, to be integral to the idea of EJ (Cole and Foster 2001; Schlosberg 2007). For some, this explicitly includes the notion of consent: participatory processes are a means through which community members can give their consent (or not) once they fully understand the scope and consequences of a proposal (Shrader-Frechette 2005, 2007).” (252)
“EJ advocates have called attention to siting practices that target communities of color because of their political margin- alization. In order to challenge the siting of hazardous facilities, commu- nities of color have also had to confront exclusionary decision-making processes characterized by unrepresentative local governments, monolingual proceedings, and reliance on technocratic risk assessments, to name a few (Cole and Foster 2001). As a result, one of the Principles of EJ adopted in 1991 by the People of Color Environmental Leadership Summit calls explicitly for justice in decision-making practices: ‘‘Environmental Justice demands the right to participate as equal partners at every level of decision-making.’’ (254)
“Seeing disclosure as an important element of informed consent provides ethical grounds to excoriate polluting industries for suppressing information, making misleading scientific claims, and intimidating scientists who wish to draw attention to the health risks they pose (see, e.g., Schrader-Frechette 2007, 39-75).” (255)
“Current discussions of procedural justice in the siting of environmentally hazardous facilities are far from na ̈ıve about the limitations of scientific knowledge. EJ advocates have not only criticized industry and government scientists for patently unethical practices like suppressing data (e.g., Shrader-Frechette 2007), they have pointed out the ways that scientific ways of knowing and technocratic modes of decision making can circumscribe community members’ ability to have a say in decisions that will affect their local environments (Guana 1998; Shrader-Frechette 1991); they have also asserted the need for community members’ local knowledge to be recognized as part of just decision-making procedures (Allen 2003; Fischer 2000).” (263)