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This project is a textbook case of environmental injustice. It would carve through preserved farmland and forests, pollute streams and wetlands, and destroy habitats for threatened species.
The name “Maryland Piedmont Reliability Project” is a masterclass in Orwellian branding. It sounds like public service—what it really delivers is environmental destruction, labor exploitation, and corporate profit at the public’s expense.
My name is Karyn Strickler, and my family farm lies directly in the path of this 70-mile transmission line. Located in Carroll County, Maryland, our farm has been in agricultural preservation for decades. My sister, her family, and my 95-year-old father live on the land. The third generation is now growing up here. Our roots stretch back to the early 1700s in America—and 500 years before that in Switzerland.
We preserved this land for farming. Not for it to be bulldozed by a private utility company.
The MPRP is part of a growing national trend where energy infrastructure is being redirected to power unregulated, fossil-fueled data centers—putting local communities and ecosystems at risk across the country, not just in Maryland.
The Maryland Piedmont Reliability Project (MPRP) isn’t about homes or communities. It’s about servers—giant fossil fuel-powered data centers in Northern Virginia. And while these billion-dollar corporations get the power, Marylanders get the pollution, the grid drain, and the bill.
Public Service Enterprise Group couldn’t meet the labor standards required by New Jersey for a wind project. So they ran to Maryland—where wage protections are weak, enforcement is inconsistent, and union labor is often ignored. Meanwhile, construction jobs are temporary, low-wage, and often filled by undocumented workers with no protections.
This project is a textbook case of environmental injustice. It would carve through preserved farmland and forests, pollute streams and wetlands, and destroy habitats for the bog turtle and the Baltimore checkerspot—Maryland’s own state insect. These species are already threatened. MPRP could push them further toward extinction.
And let’s be clear: This isn’t about my family alone. There is widespread grassroots opposition across Carroll, Frederick, and Baltimore counties. We are farmers, homeowners, business owners, and residents who see this for what it is: a high-voltage land grab disguised as progress.
The MPRP is part of a growing national trend where energy infrastructure is being redirected to power unregulated, fossil-fueled data centers—putting local communities and ecosystems at risk across the country, not just in Maryland.
This is not reliability. It’s recklessness. It’s time Maryland lived up to its promises of equity, sustainability, and dignity for workers. The bulldozers are warming up—but so is the resistance.
“Abundance” without an eye for who the abundance serves runs the risk of exacerbating the problem at the core of our economic challenges—the hoarding of power and wealth by the people that already have a lot.
Those of us who care about building a healthy, thriving, and prosperous future are reeling. The Trump administration’s attacks on our people and our planet plus the outright evisceration of government by Elon Musk and his corporate army are forcing us to reflect on how we got here and to ponder how we move forward.
As believers in the government’s ability—and in fact responsibility—to do good, we are having to face the extremely uncomfortable fact that the government does not work for the majority of people. So, it makes sense that many are talking about how government can work better to create “abundance”—and the recent release of Ezra Klein and Derek Thompson’s book of the same name—as the solution to our despair. Klein and Thompson argue that America’s inability to build and the reason why liberals are losing is the result of excessive red tape, deliberate policy decisions, and bureaucratic inertia, which must be eliminated.
For over a decade I have worked to craft, implement, and evaluate strategies that leverage private, public, and philanthropic investments to deliver tangible and substantial benefits to formerly “redlined” communities. In plain terms, I’ve been fighting like hell to get resources—actual dollars—back into communities of color. And I’ve borne witness to the growing frustration with the perceived inability of all levels of government to deliver results. All too often, regulations have become the scapegoat that some argue drive up the cost or slow the development of essential infrastructure like housing, renewable energy, and transportation networks.
What shared prosperity requires is a shift away from profit maximization and toward affordability.
Don’t get me wrong, I completely agree that we have to urgently build more housing, transportation networks, and clean energy—the ingredients that people need to live healthy and prosperous lives. But just building more by eliminating regulations is not the silver bullet. “Abundance” without an eye for who the abundance serves runs the risk of exacerbating the problem at the core of our economic challenges—the hoarding of power and wealth by the people that already have a lot of, well, abundance.
Just building more—“abundance” as a goal in and of itself—will not allow us to deliver solutions to the thorniest and extremely interconnected challenges we face, like climate change, a widening racial wealth gap, extremely low levels of confidence in the public sector, eroding governance structures, and dwindling public financing due to rising costs and constraints on raising new revenue.
These problems were not created because we don’t build things; rather, they are the outcomes of an economic system built on fabricated scarcity and the doctrine of maximizing profit, exploiting communities of color, and concentrating political and economic power.
It's our inability to share in abundance, our over consumption, and the belief that in order to have more abundance you need to hoard as much of it as possible that truly hurts our planet and our people.
Take this example. Several years ago, California’s investor-owned utilities were planning to invest hundreds of millions of dollars in charging infrastructure to support the state’s transition to electric vehicles. But the majority of the investment was planned for wealthy communities where electric vehicles were already being used. The utilities claimed that low-income families would not use the chargers because they didn’t own electric vehicles, but we argued that investments in charging infrastructure at multifamily housing and in low-income communities were essential to creating the conditions for families to consider switching to clean vehicles. In the end, the utilities agreed that a percentage of chargers should be deployed to low-income communities and over the years those percentages have continued to increase as the stigma that low-income communities would not use chargers was dispelled.
And this lesson is replicable. By focusing on who the benefits of vehicle charging stations were going to, we were able to scale the clean energy transition even faster by opening the option up to more Californians—not just those who already had access.
And so, I propose that to really tackle our complex challenges we must not work toward “abundance,” but instead work toward the goal of “shared prosperity,” of which abundance is a key strategy to achieving that goal.
Shared prosperity first and foremost is rooted in people, not markets, and meets the needs of all people, including those who have suffered the most under our current paradigm, creating an economy in which all communities can thrive. It ultimately recognizes that we are part of an interconnected system and that we are only as strong as our ability to care for the most vulnerable among us.
What shared prosperity requires is a shift away from profit maximization and toward affordability. By definition, it’s prosperous for all, meaning that jobs with good benefits and worker protections are ubiquitous, and so are opportunities to build generational wealth and community resilience to climate, social, health, and economic crises.
The most vulnerable among us need to know that they can count on being able to bounce back. And to do so, our governments, our community-based organizations, and our people must have the capacity and resources to meet the call for support when needed.
Reading Abundance I get the sense that the authors think that people are often the obstacle to progress. Government, community leaders, environmental justice advocates, and environmentalists are not antagonists toward a healthy and prosperous future; they are the force that will ultimately help us achieve it.
Let me give an example of how a pivot from an “abundance” to a “shared prosperity” paradigm can function.
Take the Transformative Climate Communities (TCC) Program, a California state program which has delivered 400 units of affordable housing, planted 13,000 trees, installed over 600 solar panels on homes, deployed 26 electric buses, and placed people into approximately 800 jobs—all thanks to the vision and voices of the communities and their local governments who have been at the center of decision-making that impacts their daily lives. The eight communities—notably formerly redlined communities—where this work is taking place previously had an “abundance” mindset, they just needed the right support and government interventions. TCC is successful precisely because it shifted from this abundance mindset and toward a shared prosperity mindset, putting communities in the driver’s seat to determine how best to build thriving neighborhoods, fight climate change, and determine their own economic futures.
The challenge before us is to design a government that has new and better tools to scale our progress, from financing mechanisms that generate the revenue necessary to do this work, to governance practices to steer our progress, to, yes, revisiting the laws and regulations that govern our built environment to eliminate those that no longer fit our moment and to update those that require retooling.
Above all, we must focus our attention on building abundance and prosperity where it is hardest to achieve, where decades of disinvestment and a legacy of injustice have locked in poverty and pollution. Otherwise, “abundance” is just a new version of trickle-down economics, which not only never trickled-down but continued the grotesque hoarding of wealth and power among the people that already had it to begin with.
A new ICL facility would further establish St. Louis as a hub of militarization and an exporter of global death and destruction while threatening the health and well-being of residents.
Early this year, as snow froze into sheets of solid ice, covering the ground for weeks, almost 20% of St. Louis Public School students were unhoused. Meanwhile, in warm town halls, former city Mayor Tishaura Jones praised a proposed new hazardous chemical facility, displaying the city's economic priorities.
St. Louis's northside has long been subjected to the environmental effects of militarization, from the radiation secretly sprayed on residents of Pruitt Igoe and Northside communities in the 1950s, to the dumped cancer-causing Manhattan Project radioactive waste that poisoned Coldwater Creek. A proposed new Israeli Chemical Limited (ICL) facility in north St. Louis would not only be another colonial imposition, but it also poses disastrous environmental risks for the entire state.
A new ICL facility would further establish St. Louis as a hub of militarization and an exporter of global death and destruction. In St. Charles, Boeing has built more than 500,000 Joint Direct Attack Munition guidance kits, known as JDAMS. An Amnesty International report tied these to attacks on Palestinian civilian homes, families, and children, making our region complicit in war crimes. In addition to hosting the explosives weapons manufacturer Boeing, Missouri is home to Monsanto (now Bayer), which produced Agent Orange.
Why does a foreign chemical company with almost $7 billion in earnings need so much funding from our local and federal government at the expense of our residents?
What's lesser known is that Monsanto is responsible for white phosphorus production in a supply chain trifecta with ICL and Pine Bluffs Arsenal. White phosphorus is a horrific incendiary weapon that heats up to 1,400°F, and international law bans its use against civilians. From 2020 to 2023, the U.S. Department of Defense ordered and paid ICL for over 180,000 lbs of white phosphorus, shipped from their South City Carondelet location to Pine Bluff Arsenal in Arkansas. White phosphorus artillery shells with Pine Bluff Arsenal codes were identified in Lebanon and Gaza after the Israel Defense Forces unlawfully used them over residential homes and refugee camps, according to Human Rights Watch and Amnesty International. Another ICL facility, combined with the new National Geospatial-Intelligence Agency that analyzes drone footage to direct U.S.military attacks, would put North St. Louis squarely on the map for military retaliation from any country seeking to strike back against U.S. global interventionism.
Within a mile of the Carondelet ICL site, the Environmental Protection Agency has identified unsafe levels of cancer-risking air toxins, hazardous waste, and wastewater discharge. The new facility would be built within five miles of intake towers and open-air sedimentation ponds that provide drinking water to St. Louis. An explosion or leak could destroy the city's water supply and harm eastern Missouri towns along the Mississippi. ICL has committed multiple Environmental and Workplace Safety violations, including violating the Clean Air Act at its South City facility. In 2023, it was declared the worst environmental offender by Israel's own Environmental Protection Ministry after the 2017 Ashalim Creek disaster, and were fined $33 million.
ICL claims the new North City site is a safe and green facility for manufacturing lithium iron phosphate for electric vehicles; however, lithium manufacturing is hardly a green or safe process. Lithium and phosphorus mining require enormous amounts of freshwater—a protected resource—resulting in poisoned ecosystems and a limited water supply for residents and wildlife in the local communities where they are sourced.
In October 2024, a lithium battery plant in Fredericktown, Missouri, burst into flames, forcing residents to evacuate and killing thousands of fish in nearby rivers. The company had claimed to have one of the most sophisticated automated fire suppression systems in the world, yet it still caused a fire whose aftermath continues to affect residents today, with comparisons being drawn to East Palestine, Ohio. Meanwhile, in January, over 1,000 people in California had to evacuate due to a massive fire at a lithium facility, the fourth fire there since 2019. Despite ICL claiming that the new site will use a "safer" form of lithium processing, it's clear that lithium facilities are not as safe as profit-driven corporations claim them to be.
Missouri leaders repeatedly prioritize corporate profits over people via tax abatements. ICL is receiving $197 million from the federal government. The city is forgiving a $500,000 loan to troubled investors Green Street to sell the land to ICL and is proposing a 90% tax abatement in personal property taxes for ICL, plus 15 years of real estate tax abatements. This is a troubling regional trend, considering that in 2023, St. Louis County approved $155 million in tax breaks to expand Boeing, also giving them a 50% cut in real estate and personal property taxes over 10 years.
Corporate tax breaks in the city have cost minority students in St. Louis Public Schools $260 million in a region where 30% of children are food insecure. Over 2,000 people in St. Louis city are homeless. Enough babies die each year in St Louis to fill 15 kindergarten classrooms. Black babies are three times more likely to die than white babies before their first birthday, and Black women are 2.4 times more likely to die during pregnancy. Spending public funds on corporate tax breaks instead of directing them toward food, housing, and life-saving medical care for Black women and babies is inexcusable. Why does a foreign chemical company with almost $7 billion in earnings need so much funding from our local and federal government at the expense of our residents?
Officials cite "job creation" as a major reason to expand ICL. Still, the new facility is only expected to create 150 jobs, and there is no evidence that these jobs will be given to people in the community where it is being built. Investing in Black and minority businesses would lead to actual self-sustaining economic development.
Despite receiving hundreds of millions of dollars from the federal government, local tax breaks, the backing of former Gov. Mike Parson, and approval from city committees, the facility's opening is not a done deal. The St. Louis City Board of Alders could still intervene. Stopping a facility with this much federal and international backing would require massive pushback from Missourians. Residents deserve more information and input in this process, especially considering the city's resistance to hearing public comments. Notably, when locals submitted a Sunshine request for the ICL permit in March, it was so heavily redacted that it was unreadable.
This facility would turn local Black neighborhoods into environmental and military sacrifice zones, and our response to city, state, and federal leaders should be a definitive and resounding No!
CODEPINK Missouri has a petition to stop the building of the ICL facility in St. Louis.