Lake in Bangalore, India. Wikimedia Commons

In India’s City of a Thousand Lakes, the water mafia reigns supreme. 

Bangalore is home to India’s largest collections of natural lakes and man-made reservoirs. Together, they form a water network that spans the city. Despite this, the city has been plagued by water shortages. These shortages are caused by two factors: the lessening availability of safe groundwater and the growing influence of Bangalore’s water mafia. Without reigning in the water mafia, Bangalore cannot address the problem of domestic water shortages. 

The water mafia controls a private water supply chain that provides water to areas of Bangalore neglected by the local government. They do this by using water tankers. The city’s informal housing settlements are their biggest consumers of this indispensable product. 

Type of water tank used by the water mafia for water transportation. Wikimedia Commons

A “merry coalition of thugs, local politicians and even some water department employees” is how Prof. Malini Ranganathan of American University describes the water mafia. These aren’t just unscrupulous operators trucking in water to slums, they allegedly are supported by politicians allegedly include members of the Bruhat Bengaluru Mahanagara Palike (BBMP), who are in charge of the upkeep of residential infrastructure and other essential systems. 

An association of contractors recently accused the BBMP of rampant corruption. But the roots of corruption are deep, and its influence is great. 

Corruption from land to lake

Bangalore’s most vulnerable neighborhoods are not served by the city’s potable water system. This isn’t caused by an oversight nor is it an unfortunate consequence of poor urban planning. This is the work of the water mafia. They have colluded with corrupt real estate industry workers to exclude informal settlements from the official water supply system. Research found that mafias went as far as to turn off the valves to pipes supplying some of these neighborhoods  – forcing the area’s residents to turn to other means. 

The water mafia profit from this corruption.  It allows them to charge absurd prices for a basic necessity. The price of water has almost doubled in the past year– jumping from Rs. 800 (US $9.80) to Rs. 1400 (US $17.15) for 6,000 litres of water. This isn’t petty change for Indians, particularly those living in informal settlements, whose average income is Rs. 4000 (US $49.00) a month. And 6,000 litres doesn’t even support an average Indian couple for a month. 

The big takeaway? The cost of the water mafia’s water is exploitative at best, extortion at worst. 

Groundwater muddies the matter

Although water shortages are exacerbated by the water mafia, they stem from the large issue of a lack of fresh groundwater and access to this groundwater. 

An estimated 40% of Bangaloreans are dependent on groundwater for drinking water. However, groundwater tables in Bangalore have failed to recharge despite heavy rains due to the amount of concrete on the city’s foundation.

Land with plentiful groundwater has become a valuable resource. This hasn’t escaped the attention of some landowners, who have sold this land to the water mafia for hefty sums of money. Through this system, the water mafia has gained access to more resources as the government continues to fail to provide for the city’s lower-income communities. 

A couple years ago, both the BBC and NITI Aayog published separate reports stating that the city would run out of groundwater by 2020. Two years later, this hasn’t occurred. This is solely due to the torrential rains of recent monsoon seasons. 

Bangalore is at the mercy of monsoons. Experts report that if the city misses a single monsoon season, Bangalore will run out of groundwater in six months. The city is surviving on borrowed time. Better groundwater management cannot occur without an overhaul of the business and workings of the water mafia. Without a severe crackdown on the water mafia, Bangalore is in hot water. 

Everyday, $8 billion gets invested in funds that promise to yield good returns while also helping to save the planet or make life better for its people. 

This is the promise of environmental, social, and governance investing.

When I first encountered the concept of ESG investing, I thought it could be transformative. The idea is optimistic: investing in companies that do good will help companies grow faster, while simultaneously creating an incentive for peers to be more socially and environmentally conscious. I was excited to see ESG investing emerge as a hot investment trend. 

But the more I research ESGs, the more I realize ESG won’t deliver on its promise until the ESG rating system changes.

MSCI, Morgan Stanley Capital International, is an investment research company that provides stock risk and performance reports to institutional investors. Since ESG is a type of stock portfolio, MSCI rates and ranks companies in terms of their ESG readiness. In fact, MSCI is the largest ESG rating company. MSCI claims its mission for ESG rating is to help global investors build better portfolios for a better world. 

However, there seems to be little connection between MSCI’s mission and its methodology. MSCI grades ESG funds on a scale that ranges from CCC to AAA. MSCI’s rating does not measure companies against universal standards; instead, it compares them to their industry peers. Thus, an average company in a particular industry will receive a BBB rating. 

Consider McDonald’s: MSCI rates it BBB. McDonald’s is one of the world’s largest beef purchasers and generated more greenhouse gas emissions in 2019 than Portugal. Its supply chain and operations emissions have increased 7% since 2015. However, since McDonald’s emissions neither posed risks nor opportunities for the company itself, it had no impact on its MSCI rating. McDonald ESG rating actually went up in April 2021 because the company adopted measures to curb waste and promote recycling — an issue that MSCI considered a risk factor for the company.

Image source 

Even more surprising is Coca-Cola: MSCI rates it AAA. Coca-cola is one of the world’s largest contributors to plastic pollution and its products are a major cause of diabetes, obesity and early mortality. Yet since all carbonated beverage companies share these problems, it doesn’t affect their score. 

The examples of McDonald’s and Coca-Cola highlight the fundamental flaw in MSCI’s rating system. The rating does not consider how much harm a company brings to the world. Instead, it reflects how much risk a company will face. In the end, the ESG scores are done for investors to make investment decisions; and to them, how risky a company is matters. 

The reason the MSCI ESG rating system is structured this way is about profits. Robert Zevin, one of two money managers credited with formalizing ESG practice in the 1980s, explains how capitalism has flipped sustainable investing on its head. “It’s not just Wall Street,” he said, “it’s capitalism. It always finds some way to repackage an idea so it’s profitable and mass-producible, and that’s going to be hard to overcome.” 

This is a problem the market isn’t going to solve. Regulations are needed to ensure that factors like greenhouse emissions, waste management, and risky working conditions don’t pose financial risks for companies. 

The Securities and Exchange Commission plays an important role in adopting such regulations. Right now, the commission is finalizing rules that require public companies to disclose greenhouse gas emissions from their operations. 

The SEC needs to go even further. The commission needs to propose major changes to the role of rating agencies, yet this is not within the purview of the SEC. 

Currently, MSCI dominates a foundational yet unregulated piece of ESG investing. This is hindering ESG investing to deliver its promises. Reports MSCI produces are a way for investment firms to justify their decisions and label stocks and funds as “sustainable”. Right now, ESG investing is becoming  another form of greenwashing. Regulation action is essential to ensure that ESG delivers on its promise and makes it possible to invest for our society and planet, not just profit. 

Figure 1. A dairy farm south of Baraboo, Wisconsin. Image by Corey Coyle, accessed through WikiMedia Commons.

The quintessential image of the American dairy farm is composed of rolling hills covered in bright green grasses that catch golden light. Cows lazily roam a field that backs up to a bright red barn with neat white trim. What this picturesque image fails to capture is what is happening just below the surface.

Grasses have roots that gather water and nutrients for plant growth. They also prevent erosion and retain nutrients. On industrial farms, root systems do not really take hold because the land is continuously grazed. But, when farmers move cattle from one section of grass to another, native grasses can build root systems to prevent erosion.

This farming method is called rotational grazing. It’s what Lynn and Nancy Utesch use on their fifty cattle farm in Kewaunee, Wisconsin. Rotational grazing is a powerful tool for reducing agriculture’s contributions to climate change.

Figure 2. A model demonstrating rotational grazing in practice from the United States Department of Agriculture.

A 2018 study of Midwestern beef farms found that rotational grazing can reduce farms’ overall greenhouse gas emissions.  More carbon is retained by the soil, making it a sink for greenhouse gases released while cows digest their food, and while soil decomposes. The Utesch’s fifty cattle farm and their peers, an eighty cattle farm that is part of Tsyunhehkw, an Oneida nation community agricultural program, both utilize rotational grazing. Both farms also refrain from using pesticides that pollute the soil and water. 

Some farmers outside of Wisconsin also use rotational grazing. Stephanie and Blake Alexandre own the first “certified regenerative” dairy farm in Crescent City, California. After cows are milked they are moved to a new part of the pasture where they then graze and fertilize the soil with their manure. After they are moved to the next location, this newly fertilized soil is left to rest for 40-50 days.

While rotational grazing is good for the soil, the cows and the environment, solutions like rotational grazing are the exception, not the rule. Instead, solutions that maintain industrial scale operations continue to be propped up. Industrial agriculture produces the most milk per acre of land, which is why it is so widely embraced, and continues to be supported through government policies. On industrial farms, cows intensively graze the same plots of land, plants are sprayed with pesticides, and animal diets are supplemented with feed. Continued support for industrial agriculture prevents systemic changes that hold the potential to truly reduce greenhouse gas emissions and support small farmers.

In the world of industrial agriculture, the buzz about reducing greenhouse gas emissions often centers on capturing methane emissions. On October 26 I wrote about biofuel as a promising way to do so. But this method puts workers at risk, makes it even harder for small farms to stay open, and pollutes local air and bodies of water. In August 2022, U.S. Senators Cory Booker, Kirsten Gillibrand, Bernie Sanders, Elizabeth Warren, and Edward Markey issued a letter to the USDA to investigate public health and environmental justice impacts of methane biodigesters. 

Further research on the effects of new agricultural technologies are necessary because often they are only band aid fixes for an overall broken agricultural system. If so-called solutions for problems in the industry end up causing more harm to workers and the humans, plants, and animals living around the farms, they need to be reconsidered. 

It is hard to center methods that prioritize the sustainability of the holistic environment in an industry and world that places profits above all else. But taking a more holistic approach might reveal that solutions that are good for workers and local farmers can also be good for the environment. But seeing the value in these strategies requires focusing more on gallons of milk or operating costs. It requires a prioritization of the health and future of America’s dairyland. 

In the case of Wisconsin dairy, where small farms have been closing and big farms have been expanding, turning to solutions that can be accessed by all sizes of farms–like rotational grazing–can help solve multiple of the industry’s problems. As Joe Maxwell, president of advocacy group Family Farm Action, told The Counter, agriculture advocates should stay focused on displacing “the failed food system that the industrial model has brought us—that doesn’t feed us, extracts wealth from rural communities, and whose whole driving force is greater yield regardless of the cost to the environment.” In Wisconsin, turning the focus back to the soil can help build a food system with fewer bankruptcies, better beef, and a healthier planet.

Two weeks ago I was stung by a wasp for the first time. 

I was sitting on a couch with people I had just met hours earlier when I felt a pinch on my forearm. When I looked down at my arm, I jumped up from my seat to see a wasp crawling on the cushion. I brought others’ attention to the culprit, to which most people ran out the room.

I left the room to tend to my sting. When I returned, the wasp was dead and gone.

I get why my new friends squished them. Wasps can sting multiple times, and seeing one inside a closed space is a scary sight. Still, I felt a bit bad for the wasp. Sure, they aren’t the cutest or most fun species, but it still was alive.

In a way, weren’t we the ones who were in their home?

Imagine someone coming into your house and getting up in your space. Wouldn’t you also be upset?

Over the weekend, I thought about how human-centered my actions are. The next night, I ended up escorting some ladybugs outside. On a nature walk, our guide cut branches off the trees so it would be easier for us to get through the trails. I even peeled some papery bark off a birch so I could doodle on it.

It’s impossible to live our human lives without affecting the other beings around us. I mean, we have to eat something.

Nonetheless, it’s important to be aware of the potential harm we may be causing when we live in a human-centered mindset. When we are too anthropocentric, too human-focused, we don’t think outside of what is most convenient for us.

Anthropocentrism influences some of the biggest contributors to climate change. It helps to justify industrialization and industry as people only think about their own conveniences, not necessarily with the full implications in mind. Sure, it is a matter of survival in order to meet our basic needs as a species, but what is at stake with further industrialization and technological development?

For example, fossil fuel energy was historically needed for economic growth and productivity, which is how capitalism and industry contributed to the release of greenhouse gases. As people demand more for the conveniences of their own lives and companies innovate more goods to sell, this production continues to contribute to the warming of the planet as the ozone layer deteriorates. 

Consumer capitalism is inherently anthropocentric because it focuses on people being consumers and sellers, and demand can lead to wasteful means of production. Corporations often focus on efficiency at the cost of environmental wellbeing. We as people end up disregarding other lives, who are at risk because of the effects of climate change.

What can the world look like when we work outside of an anthropocentric framework? What can the world look like when we start to live with the world around us instead of in the world?

We can look to the solarpunk movement, which strives towards sustainable futures that care for the Earth. We can look to the land back movement, which works towards Indigenous sovereignty. When we think future-oriented, at what is best for 

I look down at the site of my wasp sting and reflect on my interactions with others, both human and nonhuman. I need to continue to put myself in the shoes, or wings, of others in order to be a considerate community member to everyone in the world I live in.

As the urgency of our climate crisis increases at a rapid pace, our collective climate anxiety is following suit. Climate anxiety, or eco-stress, was defined by the American Psychological Association in 2017 as “a chronic fear of environmental doom.”  Though it is certainly a privilege to be experiencing the anxiety rather than the direct impacts, it is worrying nonetheless.

Climate anxiety and dread are having major effects on the mental health of today’s youths. It’s hard to be in school, hyperfocused on planning for a future that may not exist. It’s hard to plan for a family when our collective future contains so much uncertainty. It’s hard to remain driven optimistic when a never ending doomsday rabbit hole is easily accessed by a simple internet connection and the click of a few buttons. We become paralyzed with an all or nothing mentality, paralyzed between the extremes of trying to fix the whole problem ourselves or give up completely. What we don’t recognize is by choosing neither we are inadvertently doing nothing. So what can we do?

Something I’ve noticed about myself and others is that a fight or flight response kicks in when we are backed into a corner. In the case of the climate crisis, with the majority of the population, the flight response usually prevails. Facebook, Instagram, TikTok, etc.- the various forms of the media we’ve created to distract our brains are endless. After all, it’s far easier to log on to Netflix than to confront these large scale issues.

While this escapism is a completely valid coping skill, an entire society constantly engaging with it shows a large-scale systematic issue and does not do much good for our motivation surrounding the climate crisis. 

What we can do to ease this anxiety, however, is to engage deeper with both the humans and the ecosystems around us. One great way to do this is through environmental education – whether you’re in kindergarten, college, high school, or beyond – getting together, learning, and sharing what you know about the world around you can not only help the earth, but can have great psychological benefits as well.

In my life I’ve found that getting outside, connecting with others, and appreciating the natural world around you can lead to an enhanced level of care for it. Stepping outside of the online doomsday rhetoric gives you an important sense of perspective. This requires a shift in our education system away from standardized testing and motivation for an A. It requires us to step out of the black and white and into discomfort of the gray. Does a grade truly matter if your learning doesn’t lead to a passion and excitement for change?

People by nature tend to gravitate towards clear cut simple solutions that have a big impact. Whether we actually do them or not, there is a comfort in having clear actionable items that can help to resolve an issue. Our thought patterns exist in black and white — either we can quickly fix a problem and check it off our list, or it’s not worth our time. 

The issue is systemic and bigger than you saving up for that electric car.  Just 100 companies are responsible for 71% of global emissions.  This number makes my head spin. The fact that my individual action cannot stop climate change is a constant challenge, because giving up isn’t an option. This leaves me wringing my hands, backed in a corner, panicked with nowhere to go. 

This framework requires a mental shift. Community oriented environmental education can both increase your understanding of the environment and strengthen your personal connection with the world around you. Most importantly, it can remind you that you are not alone in this, something that I’ve found calms me more than anything. 

So next time you find yourself late at night in the cold light of the computer screen, biting your nails as you go further down a rabbit hole, pause. Take the internet resources you have, and redirect that energy. Look and see if you can find any local farms, outdoor education groups, or even text a few friends to talk about it. Reflect on your privilege, keep listening to the experiences of others, keep sharing what you know, and keep your hope alive. 

On Depop, you can buy an upcharged 1950s Harley Davidson jacket someone found lurking in the back of their grandfather’s closet. 

On Craigslist, you can sell your soul. 

On Amazon, you can order a purple chainsaw, to be delivered to your doorstep before tomorrow’s harvest moon.

On TikTok, you can peruse innumerable clips about how to morph into an airbrushed god: Simply purchase a ‘Calm Your Tits’ boob mask, a container of snail mucin, or a dash of glittering eyeshadow mined by child laborers overseas, #sponsored! 

Don’t get me wrong: I’ve scrolled through Instacart’s never-ending stream of patterned socks stitched in Bangladesh. I’ve drooled (metaphorically speaking) while sifting through TJ Maxx’s sale bins, plugged my credit card number into an obscure website advertising woolen slippers from Australia. It’s hard to ignore the pull of material goods in a global economy fueled by consumerism. 

But pressing “Add To Cart” will only satiate your yearning temporarily, causing your sense of self-assurance to become reliant on an increasingly expensive version of bigger/better/best. It’s a commodification of the mind: I already own a knit hat, so why did I feel the need to scroll through Etsy for over an hour yesterday, gazing longingly at knit caps? 

It’s not a hard answer: Cultivating a sense of self is enjoyable in the same way cultivating a Twitter persona is enjoyable. It makes us feel valued, quirky, authentic. Another piece of knitwear isn’t going to improve my life, but it might make my head look cool. 

During the rise of consumerism in the early 20th century, Arthur Mormand’s 1920s comic strip Keeping Up With the Joneses depicted the McGinis family. Envious of their neighbors, they fruitlessly attempted to climb up the social strata by making their clothes, their yard, as well as their lives  appear aesthetically pleasing. 

My current hat keeps my ears cozy, but a hat that I saw someone else at The Steps wearing made them look like they were a butch shepherd about to embark on a trek through mountainous regions… I want a hat like that. 

But the endless pursuit of The Best Hat won’t lead anywhere, except into an internet spiral of clothing websites. You find one thing you like and 47 ads cram your Facebook feed, goading you to find something even more uniquely you. 

It’s time to stop keeping up with the Joneses. 

Originating in Canada, Buy Nothing Day encourages consumers to steer clear of Black Friday sales, sacrificing shopping sprees as a way to ‘celebrate’ the dangers of overconsumption. Some people cut up credit cards, steer empty shopping carts through a mall’s circuitous hallways, or simply parade through the streets toting signs with pithy slogans like: “Consumerism is the corruption of the American Soul.” 

Aside from the humanitarian problems resulting from opening your pocketbook, curating an aesthetic comes at a real cost to the  planet — remember the fires that desecrated Australia just two years ago, for instance. I’m not saying my Australian slipper purchase caused climate change, but it’s part of a larger culture that did. 

Buy Nothing Day is, at its core, a surface-level version of activism. Awesome! We’re abstaining from camping out in front of Lowe’s in order to get the best deal on the sparkliest chandelier. But what about every other day of the year? Not purchasing a designer belt on November 26th makes about as much difference as crying in an ocean. The tide won’t change because you wept a little. 

If our economy is that unnamable and unknowable ocean, rising and falling and consuming you whole, then the corporations are the moon. They control the tide from afar, and they also control you. 

A better way to give the middle finger to corporations is to buy less not just on the day after Thanksgiving, but every day. If you don’t want the tides to impact you, get out of the ocean. Delete the eBay app from your phone. Stop trying to be the Joneses. Their pretty yards and attractive hats don’t make their lives any more fulfilling than yours.  

No, clicking the ‘x’ on facebook ads isn’t going to stem the tide (ha!) of climate change, but cultural shifts happen gradually. Now, when I look in the mirror at my knit hat, I think good enough for me. 

If we continue with climate policy goals as we know them, I will lose my home.

Long Beach, Centerville (Image courtesy of author)

I was born and raised on Cape Cod. My childhood memories of summer take place at the beach. My family and I would bob in the waves and take long strolls through the shell-littered sand.

If we don’t act to prevent the worst effects of climate change now, Cape Cod will cease to exist as we know it. 

The Cape will face higher storm surges, salt water infiltration that compromises freshwater and underground septic systems, and many other problems. According to the Federal Emergency Management Agency (FEMA), 20% of Cape Cod is within the agency’s flood hazard area. That puts over $29 billion worth of property at risk, along with around 1,500 historic structures and monuments. 

Sea level rise is one of the biggest threats Cape Cod faces. The highest point on the Cape is only 306 feet above sea level. When waters rise, many homes and businesses built right on the coastline will be at risk of flooding. Some of these structures are built directly on sand—which can erode during large storms that bring high waters and strong winds—making them even more susceptible to the impacts of sea-level rise. 

Me as a child at the beach (Image courtesy of author)

While my family does not live on the beach, we live a mere three miles away. As far as Cape Cod goes, this is about as far away from the beach as anyone can live. Centerville, where I live, is where its name suggests: the center of the Cape. I know that we don’t face the immediate danger of those who live in sight of the surf, but I can’t help but fear for the future. For many families, just like my own, the Cape is not a vacation destination — it is home. 

Warnings of rising sea levels don’t fall on deaf ears, but not few individuals can just  pick up their lives and flee the rising seas.

There are many families like mine who live year-round on Cape Cod. We don’t have lavish homes with private beaches and countless windows with ocean views. We don’t have the financial means to rebuild after flood damages. We don’t have anywhere else to go.

Unless we act together against climate change in a way that centers coastal communities and the impacts they face, asking families like mine to uproot their lives is exactly what is going to happen.

The most aspirational form of climate policy right now is the Green New Deal: the congressional resolution demands that the United States undergo a rapid “fair and just” transition to 100-percent clean energy. My concern, however, is that the Green New Deal only mentions the oceans once. 

To supplement the Green New Deal, Senator Elizabeth Warren worked with leading scientists and policy advisors to craft the Blue New Deal. The Blue New Deal prioritizes the protection of coastal communities and the ocean itself, as well as emphasizing how such communities and ecosystems can help us achieve our goal of a clean energy future for our children and grandchildren. 

It’s the Blue New Deal that provides the framework for places like Cape Cod to have a fighting chance for our future in the face of the climate crisis.

But this is not just about Cape Cod.  We as a country do need a Blue New Deal. Forty percent of the United States population lives on the coast. What is good for Cape Cod is also good for  coastal communities around the nation.

I need a Blue New Deal.

Cape Cod needs a Blue New Deal.

We—the United States—need a Blue New Deal.