nationalobserver--2020-07-08--Montreal police to announce new street checks policy after systemic bias report

Montreal police are to announce a new policy on street checks today , months after a damning independent report found @ @ @ @ @ to race in who they decide to stop .
Last October , Police chief Sylvain @ @ @ @ @ and alarmed by the numbers but stressed that it was a reflection of a lack @ @ @ @ @ crunched three years worth of police data to come up with their conclusions , which @ @ @ @ @ describing as racial profiling .

Montreal police are to announce a new policy on street checks today, months after a damning independent report found evidence of systemic bias linked to race in who they decide to stop.
Last October, Police chief Sylvain Caron said he was humbled and alarmed by the numbers but stressed that it was a reflection of a lack of policy.
The authors crunched three years worth of police data to come up with their conclusions, which they stopped short of conclusively describing as racial profiling.
Street checks involve officers stopping a person and recording their information regardless of whether an offence has been committed.
The report last fall suggested that people from certain racialized groups were much more likely than others to be stopped by police.


nationalobserver--2020-07-08--‘What choice do we have?’ As the Arctic warms, the Inupiat adapt.

This story was originally published by High Country News and appears here as part of the Climate Desk collaboration Utqiagvik sits at the very tip of the United States , saddled against the Arctic Ocean .
The Alaska Native Inupiat are set apart from other Indigenous peoples by their subsistence hunting of the bowhead whale .
Even today , this unique , centuries-old practice determines the social structure , reflects community values and supplements the people ’ s nutrient-rich diet .
Nearly all of Utqiagvik ’ s roughly 5,000 residents , the majority of whom are Inupiat , rely on @ @ @ @ @ @ @ .
Which is why Harry Brower Jr. , an Inupiaq whaling captain and Arctic Alaska mayor , finds it odd when outsiders try to explain things to him .
“ I ’ m reading about this research on bowhead whales in different countries , ” he told me one afternoon in February .
I met Brower in a mahogany-clad office decorated with relics of his hometown : mounted walrus tusks , paintings of icebergs at sea and a portrait of Brower and Utqiagvik ’ s first mayor , Eben Hopson , standing with @ @ @ @ @ @ @ to the Arctic ” — two huge whale bones arranged in a dramatic arch .
This coverage was supported by contributors to the High Country News Research Fund and by the Pulitzer Center ’ s nationwide Connected Coastlines reporting initiative .
• The future of the Conservative Party and how Trump 's America strong-armed Canada • Trudeau takes a pass on meeting this week with Trump “ Here are two words I read about this morning , ” he said , pointing to a yellow Post-it on his desk inscribed with the words @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Until he Googled the term , Brower didn ’ t know what it meant , though he is , in fact , a hyperborean : an inhabitant of the Far North .
“ ( Scientists ) all speak a different language , ” he said .
“ They do.
” While serving as mayor of the North Slope Borough , which encompasses eight separate communities and about 10,000 people , Brower also chaired the Alaska Eskimo Whaling Commission .
The AEWC was formed in 1977 , after the federal government , worried about @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Sea , banned the Inupiat ’ s subsistence hunt .
In response , local whalers conducted their own census , which proved that the whales were being undercounted by the thousands when they swam underneath the ice .
The Inupiats ’ research resulted in an increased quota .
This anecdote is a well-worn story in Utqiagvik — formerly known as Barrow — a point of pride marking a time the Inupiat bested the federal government by showing more precise knowledge of their lands and waters .
“ People assume that we ’ re @ @ @ @ @ @ @ reality we have faced adversity for thousands of years.
” IN THE LAST TWO CENTURIES , the climate has been severely altered by human forces .
But it has always been changing in some form here , according to the Inupiat .
Evidence of past ecosystem shifts is preserved in the great tusks of a mammoth found in the perennially frozen earth and in the oral histories repeated like mantras .
The term “ climate change ” strikes a different tone up here .
Life below 0 degrees Fahrenheit has always been challenging @ @ @ @ @ @ @ by adaptation .
When the mammoth became extinct , the Inupiat adapted .
When Western influences crept north , the Inupiat replaced their dogsleds with snow machines , their seal oil lamps with electricity .
Today , the Arctic is warming at twice the global average , necessitating a new era of adjustments in life on land and sea .
The weaker sea ice endangers hunters , while melting soil threatens homes and city infrastructure .
The encroaching sea is eating away at the shoreline .
“ What other choice do we have @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Inupiaq science liaison at the village corporation , said .
“ People assume that we ’ re entering this new Arctic , when in reality we have faced adversity for thousands of years .
We ’ ve always been able to adapt and be resilient .
This is no different.
” As the Arctic warms , the Inupiat adapt .
THE ARCTIC — “ GROUND ZERO for climate change ” — is warming more rapidly than the rest of the planet because of a positive feedback loop called Arctic amplification .
Rising global @ @ @ @ @ @ @ and ice each year , exposing the darker areas they cover , and the open water and bare ground absorb sunlight , rather than reflect it .
This absorbed light creates heat , melting more snow and ice .
Last year , temperatures in Utqiagvik and the state of Alaska broke the federal government ’ s 120-year record .
The shift has happened so quickly in the North that it has outrun the research tools used to measure it .
In 2017 , it changed so fast that the National Oceanic and Atmospheric @ @ @ @ @ @ @ potentially flawed .
But the data proved accurate : It was the area ’ s warmest recorded temperature to date .
“ Nobody disputes that things change , ” Alaska climatologist Rick Thoman said .
“ The question is : Why are they changing now ?
Why aren ’ t there mammoths on the North Slope now ?
You can ’ t answer the question without invoking greenhouse gases .
From a Western science perspective , that is the only conclusion.
” The Arctic has lost 641,000 square miles of sea ice in @ @ @ @ @ @ @ area roughly the size of Alaska , according to National Snow and Ice Data Center records .
Warmer temperatures also make for a later freeze and an earlier breakup of the ice , shrinking the time frame for spring whaling .
Whaling is the pinnacle of Inupiat culture and the subsistence lifestyle .
It takes place in spring and fall , when bowhead whales migrate past Utqiagvik .
Inupiat hunters say the whales “ give themselves ” to worthy hunters , so preparation is year-round and meticulous .
Women carefully craft sealskin boats @ @ @ @ @ @ @ and whaling crews clean out their ice cellars .
Community members store whale and other raw meats in traditional belowground refrigerators dug about 20 feet into permafrost .
( Both climate change and urban development are now causing some cellars to thaw , spoiling the meat . )
Each spring , hunters use ice picks to build trails over frozen sea ice .
Once the paths are smoothed , they drive snowmobiles several miles to reach open water .
At the ice ’ s edge , they assemble camps , then wait for @ @ @ @ @ @ @ as a whale is spotted , the crews slide their sealskin boats into the water , and a crewmember attempts to harpoon the animal .
When a whale is struck , the captains signal other crews by VHF radio .
Other hunters rally to the boat , and everyone pulls the whale onto the ice shore .
But landing a bowhead has become increasingly dangerous : Each whale weighs up to 120,000 pounds and must be pulled onto the less stable sea ice .
Inupiak brothers Jack and Brower Frantz are co-captains on @ @ @ @ @ @ @ having risen through the ranks since they were teenagers .
“ When we were growing up , it always seemed like the ice was a constant , ” Jack said .
“ We always knew it was going to be good .
The last five years , it just seems like it ’ s hit or miss.
” Brower Frantz , now 34 , remembers the long snowmobile ride to the ice edge , roughly 15 miles from the shore .
When he was a teenager , it took more than two hours @ @ @ @ @ @ @ there by myself , and I was just a kid , ” he said .
Now , the ice frequently breaks off within a quarter-mile of the shore , making the past five years the most unsafe he ’ s experienced .
“ When we were growing up , it always seemed like the ice was a constant.
” On land , Utqiagvik residents face a different but related instability underfoot : permafrost thaw .
Last summer , Utqiagvik endured the wettest summer on record , with twice as much rainfall as usual @ @ @ @ @ @ @ deeper than normal , past the “ active ” layer of permafrost , which is normally frozen year-round .
During freeze-up , the infrastructure built into the usually immobile permafrost — water lines , telephone poles and house pilings — all began pushing up out of the ground .
Now , utility poles tilt at worrisome angles , and some homes appear to be teetering on stilts .
Bill Tracey , a local assemblyman who represents Point Lay , a village about 200 miles southwest of Utqiagvik , said the thaw there is @ @ @ @ @ @ @ homes can now hold ATVs .
“ The biggest change is that it ’ s gotten so warm that the permafrost is thawing so far down that all of the pipes are moving a lot and breaking , ” said Yves Brower , Harry Brower ’ s second cousin , who heads the water and sewer department in Utqiagvik .
He is acutely aware of the impacts of the changing climate : The week we spoke , nine different water pipes broke , spouting like geysers out of various paved roads .
Not @ @ @ @ @ @ @ buried in the permafrost .
The majority are housed in a utilidor , a 3-mile-long tunnel of water , sewer and electrical pipes .
The utilidor — which cost $ 800 million , funded almost entirely by oil money — is Utqiagvik ’ s single most valuable asset .
It helped bring the borough into the 21st century .
Before it was built , in the 1980s , most residents hauled ice in for water and used “ honey buckets ” for sewage .
IN THE LATE 1960S , the largest oilfield in @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , 200 miles east of Utqiagvik .
The Inupiat lobbied to form the North Slope Borough .
Once they had an incorporated government , they were able to collect property taxes from oil and gas infrastructure built on their land .
Ever since , that money has made up the majority of the North Slope Borough ’ s property tax revenue .
Last year , it came to $ 377 million , borough financial director Sandra Stuermer said .
Oil money not only afforded the North Slope the construction of the kind of @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the past 100 years , it also provided the funds necessary to maintain it in harsh conditions — conditions exacerbated , ironically , by climate change .
Today , the money generated from property taxes pays for all borough operations , including the state and federal bond debts for maintenance of infrastructure in all eight villages .
“ Barrow has been lucky , ” Yves Brower said .
Like most locals , he still refers to his town by the name a British whaling officer gave it in the 1800s , rather than @ @ @ @ @ @ @ village voted to return to in 2016 .
“ We ’ ve been really wealthy from our oil money.
” For many here , oil money represents opportunity and autonomy .
In 2018 , the median household income of North Slope Borough residents was $ 75,431 .
Many are grateful for the wealth , even as the greenhouse gases emitted by fossil fuel use continue to warm the Arctic .
Now , however , the Inupiat are facing yet another challenge : the potential shift of the global economy away from those fossil @ @ @ @ @ @ @ change , Goldman Sachs announced it would stop financing new oil exploration in the Arctic .
A number of other banks followed suit .
Mayor Harry Brower penned an editorial for the Wall Street Journal , condemning the investment bank for claiming stakeholder engagement as a core business principle while failing to consult the people of the North Slope .
“ The way we see it , caring about the land and wildlife should also mean caring about the Indigenous people who inhabit the land , ” he wrote .
“ We aren @ @ @ @ @ @ @ are hungry for progress and understanding from those on the East Coast and beyond .
We don ’ t need your protection or judgment .
We need your respect .
We need to be treated like fellow Americans.
” TODAY , AS ICE CONDITIONS WORSEN , whalers are finding new hunting methods , using technological improvements that help keep hunters safe in the risky work they do to feed their communities .
As technology improves , the Inupiat adapt .
The University of Alaska Fairbanks has mapped out hunters ’ trails to whaling @ @ @ @ @ @ @ research has become an increasingly valued tool for contemporary hunters .
Matthew Druckenmiller , who developed it , is now a research scientist at the National Snow and Ice Data Center .
In partnership with whaling crews , the borough and local whale biologist Craig George , Druckenmiller used GPS navigation to map the trails from 2008 to 2011 .
The project , which was inspired by an elder ’ s attempt to hand-draw maps years earlier , overlaid GPS trail locations with surveys of ice thickness and with satellite imagery showing the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ .
The resulting maps are distributed throughout the community during hunting season .
Whaler Jack Frantz said the maps are regarded as helpful and educational for the younger hunters who haven ’ t spent years studying ice conditions .
Though Druckenmiller ’ s student research ended in 2011 , he continues the study every year .
Whalers use the map data to direct others to their camps to help drag whales onto the ice for butchering .
Druckenmiller calls the information “ supplemental ” to whaling crews ’ traditional practices .
“ To @ @ @ @ @ @ @ having multiple tools at your disposal , ” he said .
“ This is just one of them.
” Previously , hunters sometimes struggled to locate trails in the vast expanse of tundra , said Bernice Oyagak , an Inupiaq whaler .
“ Now , it ’ s cool , because ( they ) send us a map and they say , ‘ Here ’ s their trail , ’ ” she said .
The map also shows ice thickness , making it “ kind of scary to know when you ’ re @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ice , ” she said .
“ But I guess it ’ s better to know it than to not know it , because you ’ re hauling back so many pounds of meat .
It can be dangerous out there.
” “ To be resilient to the environment relies on having multiple tools at your disposal.
” The work of adaptation never ends .
Now , as increasingly tough whaling years leave freezers empty , the Inupiat hunt more caribou .
With coastal erosion eating away several feet of beach each year @ @ @ @ @ @ @ state bonds to build a $ 300 million seawall .
When the drinking water lagoon become polluted , the city put in place infrastructure to collect snowmelt that now runs through spigots .
And now that permafrost thaw and coastal erosion threaten homes , a local housing authority is building adjustable homes on sleds .
The Inupiat adapt , bearing the brunt of global climate change — a harbinger of what ’ s to come in a world that remains stubbornly reliant on fossil fuels .
“ We ’ re taking on all @ @ @ @ @ @ @ environmental changes that are occurring , ” Brower said .
“ We ’ ve endured the train wreck .
The train wreck is here .
Everything is spilled all over the ground , and we ’ re just looking at it and trying to figure out : What do we do now ?
Who ’ s responsible ?
Now we have to deal with it.
” Still , the Inupiat remain undaunted by an unknown future .
“ We have to to be a survivalist here in the Arctic , ” Brower said @ @ @ @ @ @ @ We can survive .
”

“I’m reading about this research on bowhead whales in different countries,” he told me one afternoon in February. I met Brower in a mahogany-clad office decorated with relics of his hometown: mounted walrus tusks, paintings of icebergs at sea and a portrait of Brower and Utqiagvik’s first mayor, Eben Hopson, standing with other community members under “the Gateway to the Arctic” — two huge whale bones arranged in a dramatic arch.
Which is why Harry Brower Jr., an Inupiaq whaling captain and Arctic Alaska mayor, finds it odd when outsiders try to explain things to him.
Utqiagvik sits at the very tip of the United States, saddled against the Arctic Ocean. The Alaska Native Inupiat are set apart from other Indigenous peoples by their subsistence hunting of the bowhead whale. Even today, this unique, centuries-old practice determines the social structure, reflects community values and supplements the people’s nutrient-rich diet. Nearly all of Utqiagvik’s roughly 5,000 residents, the majority of whom are Inupiat, rely on hunting to support their way of life.
While serving as mayor of the North Slope Borough, which encompasses eight separate communities and about 10,000 people, Brower also chaired the Alaska Eskimo Whaling Commission. The AEWC was formed in 1977, after the federal government, worried about low bowhead whale numbers in the Bering Sea, banned the Inupiat’s subsistence hunt. In response, local whalers conducted their own census, which proved that the whales were being undercounted by the thousands when they swam underneath the ice. The Inupiats’ research resulted in an increased quota. This anecdote is a well-worn story in Utqiagvik — formerly known as Barrow — a point of pride marking a time the Inupiat bested the federal government by showing more precise knowledge of their lands and waters.
“Here are two words I read about this morning,” he said, pointing to a yellow Post-it on his desk inscribed with the words “hyperboreus” and “parsimonious.” Until he Googled the term, Brower didn’t know what it meant, though he is, in fact, a hyperborean: an inhabitant of the Far North. “(Scientists) all speak a different language,” he said. “They do.”
Last year, temperatures in Utqiagvik and the state of Alaska broke the federal government’s 120-year record. The shift has happened so quickly in the North that it has outrun the research tools used to measure it. In 2017, it changed so fast that the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration warned scientists that the data was potentially flawed. But the data proved accurate: It was the area’s warmest recorded temperature to date.
THE ARCTIC — “GROUND ZERO for climate change” — is warming more rapidly than the rest of the planet because of a positive feedback loop called Arctic amplification. Rising global temperatures melt the reflective surfaces of snow and ice each year, exposing the darker areas they cover, and the open water and bare ground absorb sunlight, rather than reflect it. This absorbed light creates heat, melting more snow and ice.
“What other choice do we have?” Kaare Sikuaq Erikson, an Inupiaq science liaison at the village corporation, said. “People assume that we’re entering this new Arctic, when in reality we have faced adversity for thousands of years. We’ve always been able to adapt and be resilient. This is no different.”
Life below 0 degrees Fahrenheit has always been challenging, so the Inupiat story is defined by adaptation. When the mammoth became extinct, the Inupiat adapted. When Western influences crept north, the Inupiat replaced their dogsleds with snow machines, their seal oil lamps with electricity. Today, the Arctic is warming at twice the global average, necessitating a new era of adjustments in life on land and sea. The weaker sea ice endangers hunters, while melting soil threatens homes and city infrastructure. The encroaching sea is eating away at the shoreline.
IN THE LAST TWO CENTURIES, the climate has been severely altered by human forces. But it has always been changing in some form here, according to the Inupiat. Evidence of past ecosystem shifts is preserved in the great tusks of a mammoth found in the perennially frozen earth and in the oral histories repeated like mantras. The term “climate change” strikes a different tone up here.
Whaling is the pinnacle of Inupiat culture and the subsistence lifestyle. It takes place in spring and fall, when bowhead whales migrate past Utqiagvik. Inupiat hunters say the whales “give themselves” to worthy hunters, so preparation is year-round and meticulous. Women carefully craft sealskin boats, sewn together with caribou tendon, and whaling crews clean out their ice cellars. Community members store whale and other raw meats in traditional belowground refrigerators dug about 20 feet into permafrost. (Both climate change and urban development are now causing some cellars to thaw, spoiling the meat.)
The Arctic has lost 641,000 square miles of sea ice in the month of March alone — an area roughly the size of Alaska, according to National Snow and Ice Data Center records. Warmer temperatures also make for a later freeze and an earlier breakup of the ice, shrinking the time frame for spring whaling.
“Nobody disputes that things change,” Alaska climatologist Rick Thoman said. “The question is: Why are they changing now? Why aren’t there mammoths on the North Slope now? You can’t answer the question without invoking greenhouse gases. From a Western science perspective, that is the only conclusion.”
Each spring, hunters use ice picks to build trails over frozen sea ice. Once the paths are smoothed, they drive snowmobiles several miles to reach open water. At the ice’s edge, they assemble camps, then wait for a bowhead to pass. As soon as a whale is spotted, the crews slide their sealskin boats into the water, and a crewmember attempts to harpoon the animal. When a whale is struck, the captains signal other crews by VHF radio. Other hunters rally to the boat, and everyone pulls the whale onto the ice shore.
But landing a bowhead has become increasingly dangerous: Each whale weighs up to 120,000 pounds and must be pulled onto the less stable sea ice.
Inupiak brothers Jack and Brower Frantz are co-captains on their uncle’s whaling crew, having risen through the ranks since they were teenagers. “When we were growing up, it always seemed like the ice was a constant,” Jack said. “We always knew it was going to be good. The last five years, it just seems like it’s hit or miss.”
Brower Frantz, now 34, remembers the long snowmobile ride to the ice edge, roughly 15 miles from the shore. When he was a teenager, it took more than two hours. “I felt safe driving out there by myself, and I was just a kid,” he said. Now, the ice frequently breaks off within a quarter-mile of the shore, making the past five years the most unsafe he’s experienced.
“When we were growing up, it always seemed like the ice was a constant.”
On land, Utqiagvik residents face a different but related instability underfoot: permafrost thaw. Last summer, Utqiagvik endured the wettest summer on record, with twice as much rainfall as usual. Rain thawed the ground several feet deeper than normal, past the “active” layer of permafrost, which is normally frozen year-round. During freeze-up, the infrastructure built into the usually immobile permafrost — water lines, telephone poles and house pilings — all began pushing up out of the ground. Now, utility poles tilt at worrisome angles, and some homes appear to be teetering on stilts.
Bill Tracey, a local assemblyman who represents Point Lay, a village about 200 miles southwest of Utqiagvik, said the thaw there is so bad that once-narrow crawlspaces under the homes can now hold ATVs.
“The biggest change is that it’s gotten so warm that the permafrost is thawing so far down that all of the pipes are moving a lot and breaking,” said Yves Brower, Harry Brower’s second cousin, who heads the water and sewer department in Utqiagvik. He is acutely aware of the impacts of the changing climate: The week we spoke, nine different water pipes broke, spouting like geysers out of various paved roads.
Not all of Utqiagvik’s pipes are buried in the permafrost. The majority are housed in a utilidor, a 3-mile-long tunnel of water, sewer and electrical pipes. The utilidor — which cost $800 million, funded almost entirely by oil money — is Utqiagvik’s single most valuable asset. It helped bring the borough into the 21st century. Before it was built, in the 1980s, most residents hauled ice in for water and used “honey buckets” for sewage.
IN THE LATE 1960S, the largest oilfield in North America was discovered on Inupiat land, 200 miles east of Utqiagvik. The Inupiat lobbied to form the North Slope Borough. Once they had an incorporated government, they were able to collect property taxes from oil and gas infrastructure built on their land. Ever since, that money has made up the majority of the North Slope Borough’s property tax revenue. Last year, it came to $377 million, borough financial director Sandra Stuermer said.
Oil money not only afforded the North Slope the construction of the kind of infrastructure most of America had enjoyed for the past 100 years, it also provided the funds necessary to maintain it in harsh conditions — conditions exacerbated, ironically, by climate change. Today, the money generated from property taxes pays for all borough operations, including the state and federal bond debts for maintenance of infrastructure in all eight villages.
“Barrow has been lucky,” Yves Brower said. Like most locals, he still refers to his town by the name a British whaling officer gave it in the 1800s, rather than using its Native name, which the village voted to return to in 2016. “We’ve been really wealthy from our oil money.”
For many here, oil money represents opportunity and autonomy. In 2018, the median household income of North Slope Borough residents was $75,431. Many are grateful for the wealth, even as the greenhouse gases emitted by fossil fuel use continue to warm the Arctic. Now, however, the Inupiat are facing yet another challenge: the potential shift of the global economy away from those fossil fuels.
In December, citing climate change, Goldman Sachs announced it would stop financing new oil exploration in the Arctic. A number of other banks followed suit. Mayor Harry Brower penned an editorial for the Wall Street Journal, condemning the investment bank for claiming stakeholder engagement as a core business principle while failing to consult the people of the North Slope.
“The way we see it, caring about the land and wildlife should also mean caring about the Indigenous people who inhabit the land,” he wrote. “We aren’t hungry for oil, we are hungry for progress and understanding from those on the East Coast and beyond. We don’t need your protection or judgment. We need your respect. We need to be treated like fellow Americans.”
TODAY, AS ICE CONDITIONS WORSEN, whalers are finding new hunting methods, using technological improvements that help keep hunters safe in the risky work they do to feed their communities. As technology improves, the Inupiat adapt.
The University of Alaska Fairbanks has mapped out hunters’ trails to whaling camps, for example, and this research has become an increasingly valued tool for contemporary hunters. Matthew Druckenmiller, who developed it, is now a research scientist at the National Snow and Ice Data Center. In partnership with whaling crews, the borough and local whale biologist Craig George, Druckenmiller used GPS navigation to map the trails from 2008 to 2011. The project, which was inspired by an elder’s attempt to hand-draw maps years earlier, overlaid GPS trail locations with surveys of ice thickness and with satellite imagery showing the general type of ice and its extent. The resulting maps are distributed throughout the community during hunting season. Whaler Jack Frantz said the maps are regarded as helpful and educational for the younger hunters who haven’t spent years studying ice conditions.
Though Druckenmiller’s student research ended in 2011, he continues the study every year. Whalers use the map data to direct others to their camps to help drag whales onto the ice for butchering. Druckenmiller calls the information “supplemental” to whaling crews’ traditional practices. “To be resilient to the environment relies on having multiple tools at your disposal,” he said. “This is just one of them.”
Previously, hunters sometimes struggled to locate trails in the vast expanse of tundra, said Bernice Oyagak, an Inupiaq whaler. “Now, it’s cool, because (they) send us a map and they say, ‘Here’s their trail,’ ” she said. The map also shows ice thickness, making it “kind of scary to know when you’re driving over a mere two feet of ice,” she said. “But I guess it’s better to know it than to not know it, because you’re hauling back so many pounds of meat. It can be dangerous out there.”
“To be resilient to the environment relies on having multiple tools at your disposal.”
The work of adaptation never ends. Now, as increasingly tough whaling years leave freezers empty, the Inupiat hunt more caribou. With coastal erosion eating away several feet of beach each year, the borough is seeking federal and state bonds to build a $300 million seawall. When the drinking water lagoon become polluted, the city put in place infrastructure to collect snowmelt that now runs through spigots. And now that permafrost thaw and coastal erosion threaten homes, a local housing authority is building adjustable homes on sleds. The Inupiat adapt, bearing the brunt of global climate change — a harbinger of what’s to come in a world that remains stubbornly reliant on fossil fuels.
“We’re taking on all the risks because of these global and environmental changes that are occurring,” Brower said. “We’ve endured the train wreck. The train wreck is here. Everything is spilled all over the ground, and we’re just looking at it and trying to figure out: What do we do now? Who’s responsible? Now we have to deal with it.”
Still, the Inupiat remain undaunted by an unknown future. “We have to to be a survivalist here in the Arctic,” Brower said. “We’re strong. We can survive.”


nationalobserver--2020-07-08--Could paying farmers to store carbon help the climate and save farms?

This story was originally published by Mother Jones and appears here as part of the Climate Desk collaboration The temperature has been dropping all morning , so by the time we reach Adam Chappell ’ s cornfield at the edge of the tiny town of Cotton Plant , Arkansas , it ’ s in the 30s .
Cold for the Delta .
Heavy clouds press down on a border of maple and oak trees .
I follow Chappell into the field , where we pause amid piles of corn husks and a few abandoned mustard-color cobs .
It ’ s @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , yet neat rows of oat grass , fernlike vetch , and radish leaves poke up through the detritus in a medley of growth and decay .
“ I bet you my earthworms are down about a foot , ” Chappell says through a coppery beard , his large hands hunting for warmth in the pockets of his sweatshirt .
“ You could probably dig ’ em up yesterday , but right now it ’ s too cold .
This place is covered in earthworms .
And it didn ’ t used to @ @ @ @ @ @ @ once looked like his cousin ’ s across the road , an empty stretch of tilled dirt about as appealing to an earthworm as a parking lot .
He used to clear his fields after fall harvest , leaving them barren all winter .
But about a decade ago , after his farm ’ s battle with herbicide-resistant pigweed left him and his brother on the brink of bankruptcy , the fourth-generation farmer had a revelation after a late night of scouring YouTube .
He phased out the herbicides and instead left the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ scattered rye seeds among them to grow through the winter .
His neighbors called it “ farming trashy , ” implying he was too lazy to clean up his field before planting it in the spring .
Yet Chappell observed how the rye fended off the pigweed and shielded his soil so microbes could multiply underneath the protective canopy .
He soon shifted almost all his land from conventional to regenerative farming , an approach that focuses on replenishing the soil ’ s nutrients without relying on synthetic and mined fertilizers .
• @ @ @ @ @ @ @ how Trump 's America strong-armed Canada • Trudeau takes a pass on meeting this week with Trump Chappell says his yields haven ’ t changed much but he now makes more profit on every acre because he spends less on equipment , water , herbicides , and synthetic fertilizer .
This season , he purchased 75 cows to munch down the oat grass and vetch and fertilize the soil before he plants it with cotton .
Ten years into his regenerative experiment , the switch has reinvigorated his farm and saved him from @ @ @ @ @ @ @ t expect is how these tweaks would become the center of a privately funded , tech-amped venture to rescue the American agriculture industry and slow climate change in one fell swoop .
Standing next to Chappell today are four representatives from Indigo Agriculture , a sizable ag-tech startup that ’ s betting it can boost his profits by paying him to draw carbon dioxide out of the air and store it in the ground .
Scientists estimate the earth ’ s soil holds two to three times more carbon than the entire atmosphere @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , because cars , planes , factories , and farms churn out CO2 at astounding rates .
If farmers could coax their fields to suck up more of the gas and deposit it underground in the form of organic carbon , it could go a long way toward mitigating greenhouse gas emissions .
The benefits don ’ t stop there : Increasing soil ’ s carbon content also protects against erosion and increases biodiversity .
The idea of carbon farming is gaining traction .
As part of the 2015 United Nations climate change @ @ @ @ @ @ @ initiative to encourage countries to increase the carbon sequestered in their soil by 0.4 percent a year .
In February , Rep. Chellie Pingree ( D-Maine ) introduced the Agriculture Resilience Act , which would immediately sign the United States on to the French plan and take other steps to restore eroded soil ; House Democrats drew on Pingree ’ s legislation for their climate crisis “ Action Plan , ” released in late June , which dedicated a chapter to investing in agriculture as a climate solution .
And in his “ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ candidate Joe Biden promises to make the United States ’ agricultural sector the first in the world to achieve “ net-zero ” emissions , in part by increasing payments to farmers for carbon farming through an existing conservation program .
As the US government dithers , the private sector is springing into action .
Last June , Indigo announced its plan to sink a teraton ( 1 trillion metric tons ) of carbon dioxide into cropland around the world .
Farmers who tend at least 300 acres and were enrolled in Indigo ’ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ last year would be guaranteed $ 15 for every metric ton of carbon dioxide they capture .
Companies hoping to offset emissions associated with activities like business travel , energy production , and data storage—or at least seeking a greener image—will be able to purchase credits on Indigo ’ s carbon exchange for a yet-to-be-determined price .
It ’ s a bold scheme .
And it may be impossible .
Some experts believe the soil will never absorb as much carbon as Indigo claims .
And some doubt a carbon marketplace can gain @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the credits high enough to inspire farmers to change their ways .
But Indigo—armed with some of the country ’ s leading soil experts , agribusiness consultants , and biotech veterans—is forging ahead .
Paying farmers to switch to regenerative agriculture “ is the most optimistic thing I know about in regard to climate change , ” says David Perry , the company ’ s CEO , and it has the possibility “ to fundamentally change farming for the better.
” The tech world is salivating over the idea .
But some experts @ @ @ @ @ @ @ .
One scientist calculated the maximum amount of carbon we could store at about a tenth of Indigo ’ s goal .
When Indigo ’ s representatives caught wind of Chappell ’ s experiment in regenerative farming at the No-Till on the Plains Winter Conference in early 2019 , they invited him to meet with their team in Memphis .
Later that year , Chappell signed up to participate in the company ’ s nascent carbon exchange .
More than 5,000 farmers have joined him so far , Perry estimates .
One of @ @ @ @ @ @ @ corn and soybeans on 18,000 acres near Jesup , Iowa .
He had watched market consolidation and industrialization gnaw at the profits of his family ’ s fifth-generation farm : There was always a new pesticide or fungicide that could only be paired with an endless stream of patented seeds .
“ I realized any time a new technology was offered , it would never make me more money , ” he tells me .
“ The more I listened to what Indigo had to say , their mission to disrupt agriculture started @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ” Riensche is not the only farmer desperate for a new way of doing business .
Growers the nation over face an uncertain future as crop prices have sagged , unpredictable weather disasters have surged , and retaliatory tariffs from President Trump ’ s trade wars have sent ag markets into chaos .
Much of rural America has been foundering since long before Trump took office , something Chappell knows all too well .
He gives me a tour of Cotton Plant , population 595 , whose main thoroughfare is lined with shuttered @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Someone has scrawled the word “ blood ” in black spray paint on a boarded-up shop .
An Elvis look-alike smiles down from a vintage cigarette ad on the door of the only convenience store , a relic from an era when the town prospered .
Today it ’ s struggling .
Chappell grew up here but now resides about an hour away in a suburb of Little Rock .
“ As the older generation dies , there ’ s nobody new coming in , ” he says .
“ There ’ s @ @ @ @ @ @ @ It ’ s just a dried-up Delta town.
” Regenerative farming is buzzy : Whole Foods predicted it would be one of 2020 ’ s top food trends .
“ Regenerative farmers , who focus on soil health , are the new organic farmers , ” wrote New York Times food correspondent Kim Severson in her preview of 2020 ’ s eating fads .
Last year , General Mills announced it would partner with farmers to drive the adoption of regenerative practices on 1 million acres of farmland by 2030 , and plastered @ @ @ @ @ @ @ champion Gabe Brown on a Wheaties box .
Chipotle ’ s charitable arm promotes regenerative practices , too .
The term “ regenerative ” may have first been used in the context of farming by organic guru Bob Rodale in 1984 .
Yet even three decades later , no one can agree on its exact definition .
Growers tend to refer to a set of five practices that unify the approach : cover crops , crop diversification , reduced or no tillage , reduced chemical and fertilizer application , and rotational livestock grazing @ @ @ @ @ @ @ program for products made specifically on regenerative farms .
A group including Patagonia , Dr. Bronner ’ s , and the Rodale Institute , an organic farming nonprofit , released the framework for a regenerative organic label in 2018 .
But the certification is not yet publicly available , and it ’ s broad , requiring commitments to “ social fairness ” and animal welfare on top of soil health management .
What scientists can agree on is that boosting the health of soil—making it friendlier to industrious bacteria and fungi—helps it trap @ @ @ @ @ @ @ in the atmosphere , oceans , and land ; sequestering it in the earth locks it up so it ’ s released back into the air more slowly .
When plants absorb carbon dioxide , they transform the gas into sugars via photosynthesis .
Some of those plant carbons are used to grow stems and leaves , and some leak out through the roots .
Soil microbes help convert both plant carbon and decomposed plant matter into humus , the cakey dark stuff we associate with dirt .
It contains a highly stable @ @ @ @ @ @ @ won ’ t seep back into the atmosphere for centuries .
An acre of farmland , according to Indigo , has the potential to trap the equivalent of 2 to 3 metric tons of carbon dioxide annually .
If so , a farmer who participates in the company ’ s carbon marketplace could enjoy an extra $ 30 to $ 45 per acre every year .
( An average acre of corn fetched around $ 650 in 2019 . )
The market hasn ’ t officially opened yet ; company reps have spent @ @ @ @ @ @ @ submitted 19.8 million acres of land and counting—with the hopes of launching the exchange during the second half of 2020 .
While a shift to regenerative farming will likely require some initial startup costs , growers will only make money on the exchange if they successfully nudge their land to increase its carbon sequestration .
Chappell will start with Indigo ’ s Carbon Cup , a friendly competition between enrolled farmers to see whose soil contains the highest absolute value of carbon .
The national winner can look forward to a cash prize @ @ @ @ @ @ @ to an Indigo conference .
The day I visit his farm , Indigo has sent Hannah Fite , a Memphis-based field operation specialist , to test the carbon levels in a field of Chappell ’ s choosing .
Before Indigo came along , Chappell wasn ’ t in the habit of checking because each test costs roughly $ 60 .
I expected an elaborate process involving a syringe or a chemical bath .
But it ’ s actually pretty straightforward : Fite uses an iPad to pick a randomized point generated by Indigo @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the spot , she pulls out a long metal probe that looks like a drum major ’ s baton , plunges it into the dirt , and pulls up a moist column , which she dumps into a plastic bag to send to the lab .
It ’ s relatively easy to test a plug of soil for carbon .
What ’ s less simple is predicting how much carbon dioxide a farmer may lock up across thousands of acres of land with varied soils over many years .
Indigo ’ s Perry @ @ @ @ @ @ @ of its randomized soil tests with satellite data and machine learning to improve the accuracy of measuring the carbon load of large tracts of farmland .
But as scientists with the World Resources Institute pointed out recently , the factors that influence how much carbon soil can retain and for how long are “ enormously complex.
” When Indigo announced the goal of sequestering a teraton of carbon dioxide , it assumed that farmers tending the world ’ s 3.6 billion cultivated acres could all increase the carbon content in their soils from @ @ @ @ @ @ @ that ’ s a stretch .
That the initiative “ is substantially overestimated is maybe a polite way of saying it , ” says Keith Paustian , a soil ecology professor at Colorado State University who served as a lead author on papers for the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change ( IPCC ) in the early 2000s .
Jonathan Foley , executive director of the climate think tank Project Drawdown , puts a finer point on it .
“ The claims being made by some organizations and companies right now are pretty wild @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , “ and I think somewhat irresponsible.
” Studies suggest he might be right .
While Indigo predicts farmers can absorb 2 to 3 metric tons of carbon dioxide per acre every year , measurements by Ohio State University soil science professor Rattan Lal found maximum rates of just 0.7 tons of CO2 a year per acre of US cropland .
Jonathan Sanderman of the Woods Hole Research Center used a massive historical dataset to estimate that the world ’ s soil has lost 133 gigatons of soil carbon ( the equivalent of @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the past 12,000 years due to agricultural land use , about as much as we ’ ve lost by cutting down forests during the same time frame .
In his most optimistic scenario , we could hope to recapture 103 gigatons of carbon dioxide on existing farmland by around 2040—about a tenth of Indigo ’ s teraton goal .
In the 2019 IPCC report on land use , researchers posited that the world ’ s soils could stash away up to 8.6 gigatons of carbon dioxide equivalent a year , or nearly double @ @ @ @ @ @ @ carbon dioxide emissions in 2019 .
Yet all of these estimates “ assume that everyone around the world adopts new behavior and new technologies , ” Sanderman says .
“ Not only adopts it , but does a good job of adopting it .
That ’ s a very tenuous assumption.
” Indigo ’ s entrepreneurs think a private marketplace will incentivize that adoption .
Carbon markets that reward growers for “ ecosystem services , ” as they ’ re known , aren ’ t new , but they haven ’ t taken @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , the Chicago Climate Exchange became the country ’ s first voluntary and legally binding cap-and-trade market .
But it collapsed in 2010 after a sudden surplus of offset credits caused their value to crash .
California ’ s state-run cap-and-trade market provides farmers with grants to support climate-friendly practices , but the applications are onerous , and the program ’ s proponents say the current funding needs to increase about threefold to make a real dent .
“ Nobody ’ s paid farmers to do this before , ” Perry says .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ for farmers to maximize this , I expect that we ’ ll find all sorts of ways of sequestering more carbon per acre than we currently know how to do.
” So far , the millions of acres in Indigo ’ s marketplace make it the largest project of its type .
A Seattle-based company called Nori recently launched a private carbon exchange using blockchain technology , but it is working with a smaller group of farmers .
Indigo has “ so much money , they are able to play that disrupter role @ @ @ @ @ @ @ scientist at the Nature Conservancy who specializes in soil .
“ It makes a lot of people really uncomfortable , but it also could just be the catalyst for change that a historically not functioning market might need in order to start working.
” Eric Deeble , policy director of the National Sustainable Agriculture Coalition , points out that public programs to incentivize farmers for soil-friendly practices do exist ; the Conservation Stewardship Program , for instance , funds farmers to plant cover crops .
There ’ s an ongoing debate among environmentalists @ @ @ @ @ @ @ whether the best strategy going forward is to continue to give farmers money to plant the kinds of crops and use the techniques we know lead to healthier soils , or to create a marketplace and measure the amount of carbon farmers sequester and turn it into tradable credits .
The latter strategy , capitalists argue , might lead to more rapid adoption .
But private marketplaces come with certain consequences , Deeble notes .
“ If you are looking for a high rate of return on a carbon offset investment , you @ @ @ @ @ @ @ highest value assigned , and then you will find the very biggest farms from whom you can buy those credits.
” That does nothing to make sure that historically underserved producers get to participate .
While the US government has a troubled history with racial equity in farming , some progress has been made ; for instance , the department of agriculture at least has a civil rights division .
“ If you take away the safeguards that come with federal engagement , ” Deeble says , “ it could be calamitous for @ @ @ @ @ @ @ farmers.
” Indigo ’ s Memphis office is a 12-story brick building abutting the AutoZone ballpark ; employees on its east side enjoy a view of the Memphis Redbirds ’ home games .
At least in the days before the pandemic , a lustrous cafeteria offered free lunch and a snack area stocked with granola bars and hummus .
Upstairs , the walls of the open-plan workspace display close-up photos of cotton plants and tips of wheat stalks .
A mural next to the elevators spells out the company ’ s mission : @ @ @ @ @ @ @ feed the planet.
” Indigo emerged from the Boston-area venture capital firm Flagship Pioneering in 2014 .
The company had planned to sell seed coatings that “ complement a plant ’ s natural processes , ” according to Indigo co-founder Geoffrey von Maltzahn , and stimulate its growth while reducing the need for synthetic fertilizer and herbicides .
Buoyed by successful trials and hundreds of millions in funding , the company broadened its focus by using data to “ improve farmer profitability ” and dismantle the bureaucracy bogging down a slow-moving industry .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ one-part solution will solve all the problems in agriculture , ” says Allie Evarts , the PR manager taking me around the Memphis office .
“ We need to use a systems approach.
” In addition to Indigo Carbon , that approach now includes Indigo Marketplace , which lets growers put their grains directly on the market and score a premium for , say , non-GMO or organic varieties .
( Like Etsy for corn and soybeans . )
“ We call it decomoditizing agriculture , ” Evarts says .
There ’ s @ @ @ @ @ @ @ connects growers and shippers with a pool of drivers for more efficient delivery .
( Like Uber for agricultural truck drivers . )
Indigo Acres , a pay-per-acre consulting service with a free tier , provides farmers with agronomic tools and grain testing insights .
( An Acorns for growers . )
Indigo Atlas draws on satellite data to produce a dynamic map of the world ’ s food system , offering daily forecasts of how weather patterns affect growing conditions .
( Like Google Maps for plants . )
Indigo boasts more @ @ @ @ @ @ @ and global offices , and counts among its executives veterans from the agribusiness giant Syngenta and tech platforms Wayfair and StubHub .
In early 2020 , Indigo scored $ 200 million of venture capital financing , bringing its total raised capital to $ 850 million .
As with many burgeoning tech firms , Indigo ’ s value proposition seems somewhat elusive .
Is the company mostly profiting off its microbial seed treatments , or will brokering its carbon market prove its most profitable venture ?
Evarts , Indigo ’ s spokesperson , said @ @ @ @ @ @ @ a combination of offerings .
She did specify that the grain marketplace and Indigo Carbon have seen the most recent growth , and once the carbon exchange is up and running , “ we expect revenue to increase dramatically as global interest in and demand for carbon credits and offset programs surge.
” CEO David Perry thinks this capital will help jolt the stagnant farming industry .
“ There could be billions or hundreds of billions of dollars flowing into agriculture from sources that don ’ t exist today , ” he says @ @ @ @ @ @ @ really exciting.
” “ Ooh , here ’ s a bunch of people wandering into a field and saying , ‘ We ’ re going to disrupt something and change the physics of it.
’ ” Project Drawdown ’ s Foley sees a dark side to this optimism .
He supports paying farmers for regenerative practices and has included that strategy in his NGO ’ s list of solutions to beat climate change .
But he smells whiffs of what he calls the “ Silicon Valley hype cycle ” : “ Ooh , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ wandering into a field and saying , ‘ We ’ re going to disrupt something and change the physics of it.
’ Then a couple of months or years go by and everybody realizes , ‘ Oh my god , this is overhyped , and it ’ s not going to deliver.
’ And then we throw the whole thing out.
” Given the climate crisis , Foley wonders , should massive banks and companies , the primary buyers of offsets in a carbon market , be allowed to pay their way out @ @ @ @ @ @ @ efforts to reduce emissions ?
Indigo ’ s Perry won ’ t name any of the potential buyers he ’ s in talks with , but he points out that in January , JetBlue announced it planned to offset all emissions associated with its domestic flights .
Microsoft buys a lot of carbon credits , he says , as does—gulp—Shell .
A 2019 analysis by the Climate Accountability Institute revealed that 20 fossil fuel companies are responsible for more than one-third of all greenhouse gas emissions .
Royal Dutch Shell was seventh on @ @ @ @ @ @ @ .
“ The first thing we need companies to do , big time , ” Foley says , “ is reduce their own damn emissions.
” Whether or not they deliver climate salvation , it ’ s clear that farmers need some kind of revolution .
“ It ’ s not a good situation out there , ” Chappell says when I reach him again in January , after rain delayed the end of his cotton harvest until New Year ’ s Eve .
The season had been wet and unpredictable .
And @ @ @ @ @ @ @ that it took ag 20 to 25 years to put together , ” Chappell says .
It ’ s not just the trade wars .
“ The morale in the ag industry is bad .
It ’ s cost of production .
Land rents.
” Farm bankruptcies have multiplied , as have calls to suicide hotlines in farm country .
Working on regenerative agriculture , by contrast , has given Chappell confidence .
He ’ s one of only a handful of growers in the mid-South with expertise in this type of farming @ @ @ @ @ @ @ research partner ; the company will run experiments on his land as part of what it calls “ the world ’ s largest agricultural lab.
” Some experts think agroforestry practices such as grazing livestock in stands of planted trees can do a better job of pulling carbon into the soil than crops alone , but these practices are far more popular in other countries .
Chappell intends to experiment with a 400-acre wooded area he leases .
He ’ ll plant it with perennial grasses and run cows and goats through to @ @ @ @ @ @ @ signed up all of his acres to be measured for potential credits tradable on Indigo ’ s carbon exchange , and he plans to diversify his revenue stream with profits from the market .
“ I ’ ve never been involved with anything like Indigo .
It ’ s so fast-paced .
They ’ ve got a lot of big ideas , and I like a lot of them , ” he says .
“ Are they going to be practical in the real world ?
I don ’ t know .
I @ @ @ @ @ @ @ updated since it originally appeared in our May+June 2020 issue .

His neighbors called it “farming trashy,” implying he was too lazy to clean up his field before planting it in the spring. Yet Chappell observed how the rye fended off the pigweed and shielded his soil so microbes could multiply underneath the protective canopy. He soon shifted almost all his land from conventional to regenerative farming, an approach that focuses on replenishing the soil’s nutrients without relying on synthetic and mined fertilizers.
Chappell’s 100-acre field once looked like his cousin’s across the road, an empty stretch of tilled dirt about as appealing to an earthworm as a parking lot. He used to clear his fields after fall harvest, leaving them barren all winter. But about a decade ago, after his farm’s battle with herbicide-resistant pigweed left him and his brother on the brink of bankruptcy, the fourth-generation farmer had a revelation after a late night of scouring YouTube. He phased out the herbicides and instead left the stems and stalks in the field and scattered rye seeds among them to grow through the winter.
“I bet you my earthworms are down about a foot,” Chappell says through a coppery beard, his large hands hunting for warmth in the pockets of his sweatshirt. “You could probably dig ’em up yesterday, but right now it’s too cold. This place is covered in earthworms. And it didn’t used to be.”
The temperature has been dropping all morning, so by the time we reach Adam Chappell’s cornfield at the edge of the tiny town of Cotton Plant, Arkansas, it’s in the 30s. Cold for the Delta. Heavy clouds press down on a border of maple and oak trees. I follow Chappell into the field, where we pause amid piles of corn husks and a few abandoned mustard-color cobs. It’s December, and harvest is almost over, yet neat rows of oat grass, fernlike vetch, and radish leaves poke up through the detritus in a medley of growth and decay.
Scientists estimate the earth’s soil holds two to three times more carbon than the entire atmosphere. That’s a good thing, because cars, planes, factories, and farms churn out CO2 at astounding rates. If farmers could coax their fields to suck up more of the gas and deposit it underground in the form of organic carbon, it could go a long way toward mitigating greenhouse gas emissions. The benefits don’t stop there: Increasing soil’s carbon content also protects against erosion and increases biodiversity.
What he didn’t expect is how these tweaks would become the center of a privately funded, tech-amped venture to rescue the American agriculture industry and slow climate change in one fell swoop. Standing next to Chappell today are four representatives from Indigo Agriculture, a sizable ag-tech startup that’s betting it can boost his profits by paying him to draw carbon dioxide out of the air and store it in the ground.
Chappell says his yields haven’t changed much but he now makes more profit on every acre because he spends less on equipment, water, herbicides, and synthetic fertilizer. This season, he purchased 75 cows to munch down the oat grass and vetch and fertilize the soil before he plants it with cotton. Ten years into his regenerative experiment, the switch has reinvigorated his farm and saved him from financial ruin.
When Indigo’s representatives caught wind of Chappell’s experiment in regenerative farming at the No-Till on the Plains Winter Conference in early 2019, they invited him to meet with their team in Memphis. Later that year, Chappell signed up to participate in the company’s nascent carbon exchange.
It’s a bold scheme. And it may be impossible. Some experts believe the soil will never absorb as much carbon as Indigo claims. And some doubt a carbon marketplace can gain enough traders to keep the price of the credits high enough to inspire farmers to change their ways. But Indigo—armed with some of the country’s leading soil experts, agribusiness consultants, and biotech veterans—is forging ahead. Paying farmers to switch to regenerative agriculture “is the most optimistic thing I know about in regard to climate change,” says David Perry, the company’s CEO, and it has the possibility “to fundamentally change farming for the better.”
As the US government dithers, the private sector is springing into action. Last June, Indigo announced its plan to sink a teraton (1 trillion metric tons) of carbon dioxide into cropland around the world. Farmers who tend at least 300 acres and were enrolled in Indigo’s carbon marketplace by the end of last year would be guaranteed $15 for every metric ton of carbon dioxide they capture. Companies hoping to offset emissions associated with activities like business travel, energy production, and data storage—or at least seeking a greener image—will be able to purchase credits on Indigo’s carbon exchange for a yet-to-be-determined price.
The idea of carbon farming is gaining traction. As part of the 2015 United Nations climate change conference, the French government launched an initiative to encourage countries to increase the carbon sequestered in their soil by 0.4 percent a year. In February, Rep. Chellie Pingree (D-Maine) introduced the Agriculture Resilience Act , which would immediately sign the United States on to the French plan and take other steps to restore eroded soil; House Democrats drew on Pingree’s legislation for their climate crisis “Action Plan ,” released in late June, which dedicated a chapter to investing in agriculture as a climate solution. And in his “ Plan for Rural America ,” presidential candidate Joe Biden promises to make the United States’ agricultural sector the first in the world to achieve “net-zero” emissions, in part by increasing payments to farmers for carbon farming through an existing conservation program.
Much of rural America has been foundering since long before Trump took office, something Chappell knows all too well. He gives me a tour of Cotton Plant, population 595, whose main thoroughfare is lined with shuttered stores and buildings with caved-in roofs. Someone has scrawled the word “blood” in black spray paint on a boarded-up shop. An Elvis look-alike smiles down from a vintage cigarette ad on the door of the only convenience store, a relic from an era when the town prospered. Today it’s struggling. Chappell grew up here but now resides about an hour away in a suburb of Little Rock. “As the older generation dies, there’s nobody new coming in,” he says. “There’s nothing to support people here anymore. It’s just a dried-up Delta town.”
Riensche is not the only farmer desperate for a new way of doing business. Growers the nation over face an uncertain future as crop prices have sagged, unpredictable weather disasters have surged, and retaliatory tariffs from President Trump’s trade wars have sent ag markets into chaos.
More than 5,000 farmers have joined him so far, Perry estimates. One of them is Ben Riensche, who grows corn and soybeans on 18,000 acres near Jesup, Iowa. He had watched market consolidation and industrialization gnaw at the profits of his family’s fifth-generation farm: There was always a new pesticide or fungicide that could only be paired with an endless stream of patented seeds. “I realized any time a new technology was offered, it would never make me more money,” he tells me. “The more I listened to what Indigo had to say, their mission to disrupt agriculture started making a lot of sense to me.”
Regenerative farming is buzzy: Whole Foods predicted it would be one of 2020’s top food trends. “Regenerative farmers, who focus on soil health, are the new organic farmers,” wrote New York Times food correspondent Kim Severson in her preview of 2020’s eating fads. Last year, General Mills announced it would partner with farmers to drive the adoption of regenerative practices on 1 million acres of farmland by 2030, and plastered the face of North Dakota soil health champion Gabe Brown on a Wheaties box. Chipotle’s charitable arm promotes regenerative practices, too.
The term “regenerative” may have first been used in the context of farming by organic guru Bob Rodale in 1984. Yet even three decades later, no one can agree on its exact definition. Growers tend to refer to a set of five practices that unify the approach: cover crops, crop diversification, reduced or no tillage, reduced chemical and fertilizer application, and rotational livestock grazing. Currently, there is no certification program for products made specifically on regenerative farms. A group including Patagonia, Dr. Bronner’s, and the Rodale Institute, an organic farming nonprofit, released the framework for a regenerative organic label in 2018. But the certification is not yet publicly available, and it’s broad, requiring commitments to “social fairness” and animal welfare on top of soil health management.
What scientists can agree on is that boosting the health of soil—making it friendlier to industrious bacteria and fungi—helps it trap carbon dioxide. Carbon always cycles around in the atmosphere, oceans, and land; sequestering it in the earth locks it up so it’s released back into the air more slowly. When plants absorb carbon dioxide, they transform the gas into sugars via photosynthesis. Some of those plant carbons are used to grow stems and leaves, and some leak out through the roots. Soil microbes help convert both plant carbon and decomposed plant matter into humus, the cakey dark stuff we associate with dirt. It contains a highly stable and long-lasting form of organic carbon that won’t seep back into the atmosphere for centuries.
An acre of farmland, according to Indigo, has the potential to trap the equivalent of 2 to 3 metric tons of carbon dioxide annually. If so, a farmer who participates in the company’s carbon marketplace could enjoy an extra $30 to $45 per acre every year. (An average acre of corn fetched around $650 in 2019.) The market hasn’t officially opened yet; company reps have spent the past year signing up farmers—who have submitted 19.8 million acres of land and counting—with the hopes of launching the exchange during the second half of 2020. While a shift to regenerative farming will likely require some initial startup costs, growers will only make money on the exchange if they successfully nudge their land to increase its carbon sequestration.
Chappell will start with Indigo’s Carbon Cup, a friendly competition between enrolled farmers to see whose soil contains the highest absolute value of carbon. The national winner can look forward to a cash prize, and state winners receive a trip to an Indigo conference.
The day I visit his farm, Indigo has sent Hannah Fite, a Memphis-based field operation specialist, to test the carbon levels in a field of Chappell’s choosing. Before Indigo came along, Chappell wasn’t in the habit of checking because each test costs roughly $60. I expected an elaborate process involving a syringe or a chemical bath. But it’s actually pretty straightforward: Fite uses an iPad to pick a randomized point generated by Indigo’s software. When she locates the spot, she pulls out a long metal probe that looks like a drum major’s baton, plunges it into the dirt, and pulls up a moist column, which she dumps into a plastic bag to send to the lab.
It’s relatively easy to test a plug of soil for carbon. What’s less simple is predicting how much carbon dioxide a farmer may lock up across thousands of acres of land with varied soils over many years. Indigo’s Perry says the company will combine the results of its randomized soil tests with satellite data and machine learning to improve the accuracy of measuring the carbon load of large tracts of farmland.
But as scientists with the World Resources Institute pointed out recently, the factors that influence how much carbon soil can retain and for how long are “enormously complex.” When Indigo announced the goal of sequestering a teraton of carbon dioxide, it assumed that farmers tending the world’s 3.6 billion cultivated acres could all increase the carbon content in their soils from 1 to 3 percent. Experts say that’s a stretch. That the initiative “is substantially overestimated is maybe a polite way of saying it,” says Keith Paustian, a soil ecology professor at Colorado State University who served as a lead author on papers for the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC) in the early 2000s. Jonathan Foley, executive director of the climate think tank Project Drawdown, puts a finer point on it. “The claims being made by some organizations and companies right now are pretty wild,” he wrote in an email, “and I think somewhat irresponsible.”
Studies suggest he might be right. While Indigo predicts farmers can absorb 2 to 3 metric tons of carbon dioxide per acre every year, measurements by Ohio State University soil science professor Rattan Lal found maximum rates of just 0.7 tons of CO2 a year per acre of US cropland. Jonathan Sanderman of the Woods Hole Research Center used a massive historical dataset to estimate that the world’s soil has lost 133 gigatons of soil carbon (the equivalent of 488 gigatons of carbon dioxide) over the past 12,000 years due to agricultural land use, about as much as we’ve lost by cutting down forests during the same time frame. In his most optimistic scenario, we could hope to recapture 103 gigatons of carbon dioxide on existing farmland by around 2040—about a tenth of Indigo’s teraton goal. In the 2019 IPCC report on land use, researchers posited that the world’s soils could stash away up to 8.6 gigatons of carbon dioxide equivalent a year, or nearly double the United States’ 4.8 gigatons of carbon dioxide emissions in 2019. Yet all of these estimates “assume that everyone around the world adopts new behavior and new technologies,” Sanderman says. “Not only adopts it, but does a good job of adopting it. That’s a very tenuous assumption.”
Indigo’s entrepreneurs think a private marketplace will incentivize that adoption. Carbon markets that reward growers for “ecosystem services,” as they’re known, aren’t new, but they haven’t taken off in the US. In 2003, the Chicago Climate Exchange became the country’s first voluntary and legally binding cap-and-trade market. But it collapsed in 2010 after a sudden surplus of offset credits caused their value to crash. California’s state-run cap-and-trade market provides farmers with grants to support climate-friendly practices, but the applications are onerous, and the program’s proponents say the current funding needs to increase about threefold to make a real dent. “Nobody’s paid farmers to do this before,” Perry says. “Once we start to get incentives for farmers to maximize this, I expect that we’ll find all sorts of ways of sequestering more carbon per acre than we currently know how to do.”
So far, the millions of acres in Indigo’s marketplace make it the largest project of its type. A Seattle-based company called Nori recently launched a private carbon exchange using blockchain technology, but it is working with a smaller group of farmers. Indigo has “so much money, they are able to play that disrupter role,” says Stephen Wood, a scientist at the Nature Conservancy who specializes in soil. “It makes a lot of people really uncomfortable, but it also could just be the catalyst for change that a historically not functioning market might need in order to start working.”
Eric Deeble, policy director of the National Sustainable Agriculture Coalition, points out that public programs to incentivize farmers for soil-friendly practices do exist; the Conservation Stewardship Program, for instance, funds farmers to plant cover crops. There’s an ongoing debate among environmentalists and policymakers, he explains, about whether the best strategy going forward is to continue to give farmers money to plant the kinds of crops and use the techniques we know lead to healthier soils, or to create a marketplace and measure the amount of carbon farmers sequester and turn it into tradable credits. The latter strategy, capitalists argue, might lead to more rapid adoption.
But private marketplaces come with certain consequences, Deeble notes. “If you are looking for a high rate of return on a carbon offset investment, you will find the lowest price with the highest value assigned, and then you will find the very biggest farms from whom you can buy those credits.” That does nothing to make sure that historically underserved producers get to participate. While the US government has a troubled history with racial equity in farming, some progress has been made; for instance, the department of agriculture at least has a civil rights division. “If you take away the safeguards that come with federal engagement,” Deeble says, “it could be calamitous for BIPOC farmers and highly diversified, sustainable farmers.”
Indigo’s Memphis office is a 12-story brick building abutting the AutoZone ballpark; employees on its east side enjoy a view of the Memphis Redbirds’ home games. At least in the days before the pandemic, a lustrous cafeteria offered free lunch and a snack area stocked with granola bars and hummus. Upstairs, the walls of the open-plan workspace display close-up photos of cotton plants and tips of wheat stalks. A mural next to the elevators spells out the company’s mission: “Harnessing nature to help farmers sustainably feed the planet.”
Indigo emerged from the Boston-area venture capital firm Flagship Pioneering in 2014. The company had planned to sell seed coatings that “complement a plant’s natural processes,” according to Indigo co-founder Geoffrey von Maltzahn, and stimulate its growth while reducing the need for synthetic fertilizer and herbicides. Buoyed by successful trials and hundreds of millions in funding, the company broadened its focus by using data to “improve farmer profitability” and dismantle the bureaucracy bogging down a slow-moving industry. “We don’t think a one-part solution will solve all the problems in agriculture,” says Allie Evarts, the PR manager taking me around the Memphis office. “We need to use a systems approach.”
In addition to Indigo Carbon, that approach now includes Indigo Marketplace, which lets growers put their grains directly on the market and score a premium for, say, non-GMO or organic varieties. (Like Etsy for corn and soybeans.) “We call it decomoditizing agriculture,” Evarts says. There’s Indigo Transport, a logistics app that connects growers and shippers with a pool of drivers for more efficient delivery. (Like Uber for agricultural truck drivers.) Indigo Acres, a pay-per-acre consulting service with a free tier, provides farmers with agronomic tools and grain testing insights. (An Acorns for growers.) Indigo Atlas draws on satellite data to produce a dynamic map of the world’s food system, offering daily forecasts of how weather patterns affect growing conditions. (Like Google Maps for plants.)
Indigo boasts more than 1,000 employees spread across its US and global offices, and counts among its executives veterans from the agribusiness giant Syngenta and tech platforms Wayfair and StubHub. In early 2020, Indigo scored $200 million of venture capital financing, bringing its total raised capital to $850 million.
As with many burgeoning tech firms, Indigo’s value proposition seems somewhat elusive. Is the company mostly profiting off its microbial seed treatments, or will brokering its carbon market prove its most profitable venture? Evarts, Indigo’s spokesperson, said only that the company delivered value through a combination of offerings. She did specify that the grain marketplace and Indigo Carbon have seen the most recent growth, and once the carbon exchange is up and running, “we expect revenue to increase dramatically as global interest in and demand for carbon credits and offset programs surge.” CEO David Perry thinks this capital will help jolt the stagnant farming industry. “There could be billions or hundreds of billions of dollars flowing into agriculture from sources that don’t exist today,” he says. “I think that’s really exciting.”
“Ooh, here’s a bunch of people wandering into a field and saying, ‘We’re going to disrupt something and change the physics of it.’”
Project Drawdown’s Foley sees a dark side to this optimism. He supports paying farmers for regenerative practices and has included that strategy in his NGO’s list of solutions to beat climate change. But he smells whiffs of what he calls the “Silicon Valley hype cycle”: “Ooh, here’s a bunch of people wandering into a field and saying, ‘We’re going to disrupt something and change the physics of it.’ Then a couple of months or years go by and everybody realizes, ‘Oh my god, this is overhyped, and it’s not going to deliver.’ And then we throw the whole thing out.”
Given the climate crisis, Foley wonders, should massive banks and companies, the primary buyers of offsets in a carbon market, be allowed to pay their way out of their sins instead of making real efforts to reduce emissions? Indigo’s Perry won’t name any of the potential buyers he’s in talks with, but he points out that in January, JetBlue announced it planned to offset all emissions associated with its domestic flights. Microsoft buys a lot of carbon credits, he says, as does—gulp—Shell. A 2019 analysis by the Climate Accountability Institute revealed that 20 fossil fuel companies are responsible for more than one-third of all greenhouse gas emissions. Royal Dutch Shell was seventh on the list of top polluting oil companies.
“The first thing we need companies to do, big time,” Foley says, “is reduce their own damn emissions.”
Whether or not they deliver climate salvation, it’s clear that farmers need some kind of revolution. “It’s not a good situation out there,” Chappell says when I reach him again in January, after rain delayed the end of his cotton harvest until New Year’s Eve. The season had been wet and unpredictable. And Trump “pretty well decimated a market that it took ag 20 to 25 years to put together,” Chappell says. It’s not just the trade wars. “The morale in the ag industry is bad. It’s cost of production. Land rents.” Farm bankruptcies have multiplied, as have calls to suicide hotlines in farm country.
Working on regenerative agriculture, by contrast, has given Chappell confidence. He’s one of only a handful of growers in the mid-South with expertise in this type of farming. Indigo invited him to become a research partner; the company will run experiments on his land as part of what it calls “the world’s largest agricultural lab.” Some experts think agroforestry practices such as grazing livestock in stands of planted trees can do a better job of pulling carbon into the soil than crops alone, but these practices are far more popular in other countries. Chappell intends to experiment with a 400-acre wooded area he leases. He’ll plant it with perennial grasses and run cows and goats through to manage the mulberry brambles.
Chappell has signed up all of his acres to be measured for potential credits tradable on Indigo’s carbon exchange, and he plans to diversify his revenue stream with profits from the market.
“I’ve never been involved with anything like Indigo. It’s so fast-paced. They’ve got a lot of big ideas, and I like a lot of them,” he says. “Are they going to be practical in the real world? I don’t know. I hope so.”
This story has been updated since it originally appeared in our May+June 2020 issue.


nationalobserver--2020-07-08--Canada also has an environmental racism problem

In Shelburne , N.S.
, water wells are contaminated by an old dumpsite and the Black community suffers from high cancer rates .
Sarnia , Ont.
, known as “ Chemical Valley ” — Canada ’ s largest concentration of petrochemical industries — grapples with associated water and air pollution putting the health of the Aamjiwnaang and Walpole Island First Nations at risk .
From the mercury contamination of a paper mill in Grassy Narrows , to E. coli contamination on Kashechewan Reserve , to Boat Arbour , many communities of colour are beyond the saturation point for exposure to @ @ @ @ @ @ @ racism that we have only just started to discuss in Canada : environmental racism .
There ’ s Something in the Water is a book and documentary on the pioneering work of Ingrid Waldron of Dalhousie University on the devastating impacts of pollution on Indigenous and Black communities in Nova Scotia .
Waldron 's work embedded in the communities has helped give a voice to their plight and shed light on an issue which has historically been invisible to Canadians and politicians .
It has recently generated legislative initiatives provincially and federally in @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Canada .
Environmental racism is the burden imposed on racialized communities by disproportionately locating hazardous and toxic industries ( hazardous waste sites , landfills , incinerators ) in their neighbourhoods .
• The future of the Conservative Party and how Trump 's America strong-armed Canada • Trudeau takes a pass on meeting this week with Trump No one wants heavily polluting industries in their backyards , so these tend to be located near poor communities of colour who often do not have the resources to fight them .
The pollution deteriorates air , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the communities ’ health and well-being .
The concept of environmental justice emerged in the United States in the 1980s when predominantly Black neighbourhoods started voicing concerns around toxic infrastructure projects surrounding their communities .
Their efforts led to an office of environmental justice being created within the U.S. Environmental Protection Agency and presidential executive action .
In South Africa , environmental justice is rooted in that country ’ s constitution and a principle defined in law “ so that adverse environmental impacts shall not be distributed in such a manner as to @ @ @ @ @ @ @ vulnerable and disadvantaged persons.
” Unlike many other countries , Canada does not have a legislated environmental justice lens , and , therefore , the issue remains mostly invisible and unaddressed .
Three researchers , including senator Galvez ( right ) , collect plants for phytoremediation in Rivière-Ouelle , Quebec , in 2017 .
Photo by Université Laval Pollution is also systemic violence against people of colour and closely relates to the police violence that has been at the forefront of the national debate .
The creation of the RCMP ’ s predecessor @ @ @ @ @ @ @ to the extension of Canada ’ s colonial control over Indigenous territories in what would become Western Canada and later played a key role in forcibly relocating Indigenous peoples to reserves to help clear the way for the construction of the Canadian Pacific Railway .
Thus began the criminalization and structural poverty-producing system Indigenous peoples still suffer from today .
`` Many communities of colour are beyond the saturation point for exposure to pollutants.There is a type of racism that we have only just started to discuss in Canada : environmental racism .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ have led a number of high-profile movements fighting for social and environmental justice in Canada .
Prof. Jeffrey Monaghan of Carleton University has documented how police and other security agencies responded by developing a prolific surveillance regime that targets Indigenous movements as national security threats .
The extensive policing of Indigenous peoples or groups in the “ war on terror ” has been rationalized by the development of categories and labels such as “ Aboriginal extremism ” and “ critical infrastructure ” specifically to criminalize Indigenous movements that challenge extractive development , demand @ @ @ @ @ @ @ claims to Indigenous lands , which often lead to expropriation for the benefit of foreign shareholders .
Further , the National Inquiry into Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women and Girls highlighted the link between resource extraction and spikes in violence against Indigenous women , girls and two-spirit people , a finding echoing Amnesty International Canada ’ s accounts of violence and abuse of Indigenous women at labour camps in Manitoba and British Columbia .
In 2013 , the RCMP arrested more than 40 members of the Elsipogtog First Nation in New Brunswick for @ @ @ @ @ @ @ and fracking activity on their territory .
In January 2019 and again in 2020 , the RCMP invaded Wet ’ suwet ’ en territory and arrested land defenders at the Unist ’ ot ’ en camp , sparking solidarity blockades across the country .
Whilst we have some data showing Indigenous persons are disproportionately killed by the RCMP , there is no statistical racial data on arrests or victimhood of crimes ( at the hand of police or others ) other than homicide .
Basically , we do not have a clear overall @ @ @ @ @ @ @ amounts to the enforcement arm of corporations seeking to extract and export natural resources in this country under the banner of critical infrastructure protection .
Beyond these more visible police interventions , there is also evidence of important surveillance and profiling of Indigenous activists by the RCMP .
Classified surveillance information was gathered on Indigenous and other opponents of the Northern Gateway pipeline and then shared by the RCMP and CSIS at “ energy sector stakeholder meetings ” organized by Natural Resources Canada where about half of the hundred participants were from energy @ @ @ @ @ @ @ .
In 2014 , the BC Civil Liberties Association filed a complaint against the RCMP for allegedly spying on anti-pipeline protesters .
Part of the case got embroiled in court battles and gag orders and the RCMP commission ’ s interim report completed in June 2017 has still not been made public , three years later .
If we seek real action against systemic racism in Canada , we can no longer ignore the interplay of racial and environmental justice and the role of policing communities of colour in order to enable irresponsible @ @ @

In Shelburne, N.S., water wells are contaminated by an old dumpsite and the Black community suffers from high cancer rates. Sarnia, Ont., known as “Chemical Valley” — Canada’s largest concentration of petrochemical industries — grapples with associated water and air pollution putting the health of the Aamjiwnaang and Walpole Island First Nations at risk. From the mercury contamination of a paper mill in Grassy Narrows, to E. coli contamination on Kashechewan Reserve, to Boat Arbour, many communities of colour are beyond the saturation point for exposure to pollutants. There is a type of racism that we have only just started to discuss in Canada: environmental racism. There’s Something in the Water is a book and documentary on the pioneering work of Ingrid Waldron of Dalhousie University on the devastating impacts of pollution on Indigenous and Black communities in Nova Scotia. Waldron's work embedded in the communities has helped give a voice to their plight and shed light on an issue which has historically been invisible to Canadians and politicians. It has recently generated legislative initiatives provincially and federally in order to start addressing environmental racism in Canada. Environmental racism is the burden imposed on racialized communities by disproportionately locating hazardous and toxic industries (hazardous waste sites, landfills, incinerators) in their neighbourhoods.
No one wants heavily polluting industries in their backyards, so these tend to be located near poor communities of colour who often do not have the resources to fight them. The pollution deteriorates air, soil and water quality, and compromises the communities’ health and well-being. The concept of environmental justice emerged in the United States in the 1980s when predominantly Black neighbourhoods started voicing concerns around toxic infrastructure projects surrounding their communities. Their efforts led to an office of environmental justice being created within the U.S. Environmental Protection Agency and presidential executive action. Billion-dollar land deals in Ontario raise corruption suspicions In South Africa, environmental justice is rooted in that country’s constitution and a principle defined in law “so that adverse environmental impacts shall not be distributed in such a manner as to unfairly discriminate against any person, particularly vulnerable and disadvantaged persons.”
Unlike many other countries, Canada does not have a legislated environmental justice lens, and, therefore, the issue remains mostly invisible and unaddressed. "Many communities of colour are beyond the saturation point for exposure to pollutants. There is a type of racism that we have only just started to discuss in Canada: environmental racism." Three researchers, including senator Galvez (right), collect plants for phytoremediation in Rivière-Ouelle, Quebec, in 2017.
Photo by Université Laval Pollution is also systemic violence against people of colour and closely relates to the police violence that has been at the forefront of the national debate. The creation of the RCMP’s predecessor’s in 1873 was closely tied to the extension of Canada’s colonial control over Indigenous territories in what would become Western Canada and later played a key role in forcibly relocating Indigenous peoples to reserves to help clear the way for the construction of the Canadian Pacific Railway. Thus began the criminalization and structural poverty-producing system Indigenous peoples still suffer from today. In recent years, Indigenous peoples have led a number of high-profile movements fighting for social and environmental justice in Canada. Prof. Jeffrey Monaghan of Carleton University has documented how police and other security agencies responded by developing a prolific surveillance regime that targets Indigenous movements as national security threats. The extensive policing of Indigenous peoples or groups in the “war on terror” has been rationalized by the development of categories and labels such as “Aboriginal extremism” and “critical infrastructure” specifically to criminalize Indigenous movements that challenge extractive development, demand self-determination, or contest federal and provincial claims to Indigenous lands, which often lead to expropriation for the benefit of foreign shareholders.
Further, the National Inquiry into Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women and Girls highlighted the link between resource extraction and spikes in violence against Indigenous women, girls and two-spirit people, a finding echoing Amnesty International Canada’s accounts of violence and abuse of Indigenous women at labour camps in Manitoba and British Columbia. In 2013, the RCMP arrested more than 40 members of the Elsipogtog First Nation in New Brunswick for blocking a road to resist shale gas and fracking activity on their territory. In January 2019 and again in 2020, the RCMP invaded Wet’suwet’en territory and arrested land defenders at the Unist’ot’en camp, sparking solidarity blockades across the country. Whilst we have some data showing Indigenous persons are disproportionately killed by the RCMP, there is no statistical racial data on arrests or victimhood of crimes (at the hand of police or others) other than homicide. Basically, we do not have a clear overall picture of the extent to which policing amounts to the enforcement arm of corporations seeking to extract and export natural resources in this country under the banner of critical infrastructure protection.


nationalobserver--2020-07-08--Vancouver MP Kwan ‘wholeheartedly’ supports ending police street checks

The member of Parliament for Vancouver East says she “ wholeheartedly ” supports ending police street checks , as city council tackles the issue amid a push from dozens of prominent organizations calling for a ban .
NDP MP Jenny Kwan told National Observer that street checks , where police stop a person and question them in public , and possibly record their personal information , “ have a history of discriminate use among racialized Canadians.
” “ I wholeheartedly support an end to this practice , which the NDP has long advocated for abolishing , ” she said .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ Vancouver city council is expected to deal with a motion put forward by Mayor Kennedy Stewart , that would have him inform the Vancouver Police Board that it was council ’ s priority to end the practice of street checks .
The motion points to Vancouver Police Department ( VPD ) data that has revealed that out of roughly 100,000 street checks between 2008 and 2017 , Indigenous and Black people were greatly overrepresented .
• The future of the Conservative Party and how Trump 's America strong-armed Canada • Trudeau takes a @ @ @ @ @ @ @ On Monday , more than 70 organizations called on Stewart , who is chair of the police board , and B.C .
Premier John Horgan to put in place an “ immediate ban ” on police street checks , which they called “ arbitrary , racist , and illegal.
” Vancouver East NDP MP Jenny Kwan speaks in the House of Commons on June 18 , 2020 .
House of Commons screenshot 'There is a responsibility resting on your shoulders ' The BC Civil Liberties Association , Black Lives Matter-Vancouver , the Union @ @ @ @ @ @ @ wrote in an open letter that street checks have “ no basis in law , ” and are both harmful and discriminatory for Indigenous , Black , and low-income communities .
“ We call on you to exercise your powers and jurisdiction to implement an immediate ban on the harmful , arbitrary , illegal and racist practice of police street checks , ” the letter reads .
Vancouver East MP @ JennyKwanBC says she “ wholeheartedly ” supports ending police street checks , as city council tackles the issue amid a push from @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ban .
“ Amidst protests against police killings of Black and Indigenous people , your statements about addressing systemic racism are not enough .
There is a responsibility resting on your shoulders and you must take immediate action to eliminate street checks.
” Vancouver police claim these checks are not done randomly or arbitrarily .
They say they only occur when a police officer believes someone is involved in criminal activity or some other “ suspicious circumstance.
” The police department says its statistical analysis of street checks is that most involve “ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ affairs Simi Heer said street checks are used “ infrequently ” and are a “ useful crime prevention tool.
” They have also plummeted by 91 per cent year over year , said Heer .
That drop follows the establishment of new provincial policing standards on Jan. 15 .
The VPD says it finalized its policy for street checks in line with the new provincial standards around the same time .
“ If this trend continues throughout the year , it will equate to less than one street check per front-line officer in @ @ @ @ @ @ @ .
“ In comparison , for every street check conducted , there are 500 calls for service for police.
” But the open letter argues that these new standards do not outright prohibit the practice of street checks , and while they regulate them , police officers are not required to tell people they don ’ t have to provide personal information .
VPD also says its officers are required to tell the person being stopped that the check is “ voluntary.
” But the groups behind the letter say that even though @ @ @ @ @ @ @ a street check , the “ inherent power imbalance between a police officer and a member of the public ” often leads people to believe they have no choice in the matter .
The groups point to several community demands to address systemic racism in policing : defunding the police and redirecting resources to community groups , putting in place civilian oversight bodies , and removing police forces on unceded Indigenous lands .
To the British Columbians we serve who are standing up to racism , we stand with you .
BC ‘ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ uphold and promote diversity and to oppose racism and hate # DifferentTogether # BCpolicepledge @ VancouverPD @ CACP_ACCP pic.twitter.com/CRAYtxuiM3 — Adam Palmer ( @ ChiefPalmer ) June 3 , 2020 Prime Minister Justin Trudeau said on June 18 that systemic racism “ exists in all of our institutions , including all of our police forces.
” He discussed the “ shared responsibility ” between federal and provincial governments over the multiple police services across Canada .
“ It can ’ t just be a federal issue , although there is plenty for us @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ” he said .
Vancouver Police Chief Adam Palmer told Glacier Media last month that he agreed Canadians had a long history of racism that can ’ t be denied , and that “ I ’ m not naive to think that we don ’ t have some people in this department , or any police agencies , that perhaps have views that are inappropriate , or dark-hearted , or whatever you want to call it.
” But he said the police department had oversight tools to “ root those people out ” @ @ @ @ @ @ @ minority ” of staff .
“ We don ’ t have racists at the VPD .
This is not a racist organization , ” said Palmer .

The member of Parliament for Vancouver East says she “wholeheartedly” supports ending police street checks, as city council tackles the issue amid a push from dozens of prominent organizations calling for a ban. NDP MP Jenny Kwan told National Observer that street checks, where police stop a person and question them in public, and possibly record their personal information, “have a history of discriminate use among racialized Canadians.” “I wholeheartedly support an end to this practice, which the NDP has long advocated for abolishing,” she said. Kwan’s comments come the day Vancouver city council is expected to deal with a motion put forward by Mayor Kennedy Stewart, that would have him inform the Vancouver Police Board that it was council’s priority to end the practice of street checks. The motion points to Vancouver Police Department (VPD) data that has revealed that out of roughly 100,000 street checks between 2008 and 2017, Indigenous and Black people were greatly overrepresented.
On Monday, more than 70 organizations called on Stewart, who is chair of the police board, and B.C. Premier John Horgan to put in place an “immediate ban” on police street checks, which they called “arbitrary, racist, and illegal.” Vancouver East NDP MP Jenny Kwan speaks in the House of Commons on June 18, 2020. House of Commons screenshot
'There is a responsibility resting on your shoulders' The BC Civil Liberties Association, Black Lives Matter-Vancouver, the Union of BC Indian Chiefs and many others wrote in an open letter that street checks have “no basis in law,” and are both harmful and discriminatory for Indigenous, Black, and low-income communities. Vancouver East MP @JennyKwanBC says she “wholeheartedly” supports ending police street checks, as city council tackles the issue amid a push from dozens of prominent organizations calling for a ban. “We call on you to exercise your powers and jurisdiction to implement an immediate ban on the harmful, arbitrary, illegal and racist practice of police street checks,” the letter reads. “Amidst protests against police killings of Black and Indigenous people, your statements about addressing systemic racism are not enough. There is a responsibility resting on your shoulders and you must take immediate action to eliminate street checks.” Vancouver police claim these checks are not done randomly or arbitrarily. They say they only occur when a police officer believes someone is involved in criminal activity or some other “suspicious circumstance.” The police department says its statistical analysis of street checks is that most involve “repeat offenders.”
VPD director of public affairs Simi Heer said street checks are used “infrequently” and are a “useful crime prevention tool.” They have also plummeted by 91 per cent year over year, said Heer. That drop follows the establishment of new provincial policing standards on Jan. 15. The VPD says it finalized its policy for street checks in line with the new provincial standards around the same time. “If this trend continues throughout the year, it will equate to less than one street check per front-line officer in a calendar year,” Heer added. “In comparison, for every street check conducted, there are 500 calls for service for police.”