The Economist - June 21,
2007
Environmental policy
Arnie's uphill climb
California's confident approach to climate change
has inspired America and the world. But things do not look so good in the
state itself
n
most parts of the world, climate change is a worrying subject. Not so in
California. At a recent gathering of green luminaries—in a film star's
house, naturally, for that is how seriousness is often established in Los
Angeles—the dominant note was self-satisfaction at what the state has
already achieved. And perhaps nobody is more smug than Arnold
Schwarzenegger. Unlike Al Gore, a presidential candidate turned prophet of
environmental doom, California's governor sounds cheerful when talking about
climate change. As well he might: it has made his political career.
Although California has long been an environmentally-conscious state,
until recently greens were concerned above all with smog and redwood trees.
“Coast of Dreams”, Kevin Starr's authoritative history of contemporary
California, published in 2004, does not mention climate change. In that
year, though, the newly-elected Mr Schwarzenegger made his first tentative
call for western states to seek alternatives to fossil fuels. Gradually he
noticed that his efforts to tackle climate change met with less resistance,
and more acclaim, than just about all his other policies. These days it can
seem as though he works on nothing else.
Mr Schwarzenegger's transformation from screen warrior to eco-warrior was
completed last year when he signed a bill imposing legally-enforceable
limits on greenhouse-gas emissions—a first for America. The bill, which is
just 13 pages long, obliges California to cut its emissions to 1990 levels
by 2020. That alone is ambitious, considering that the state's population is
expected to increase by 42% in the period. But Mr Schwarzenegger has set up
two other targets. He wants the state to reduce greenhouse-gas emissions to
2000 levels by 2010, and to slash them to 80% below 1990 levels by 2050.
Thanks mostly to its lack
of coal and heavy industry, California is a relatively clean state. If it
were a country it would be the world's eighth-biggest economy, but only its
16th-biggest polluter. Its big problem is transport—meaning, mostly, cars
and trucks, which account for more than 40% of its greenhouse-gas emissions
(see chart) compared with 32% in America as a whole. The state wants to
ratchet down emissions limits on new vehicles, beginning in 2009. Mr
Schwarzenegger has also ordered that, by 2020, vehicle fuel must produce 10%
less carbon: in the production as well as the burning, so a simple switch to
corn-based ethanol is probably out.
Californians of the future will also be expected to use cleaner
electricity. The state subsidises solar power, with the intention of
creating a million power-generating roofs within ten years. It has, in
effect, banned electricity companies from signing long-term contracts with
coal-fired power stations, and plans to buy from cleaner sources. In 2002
Gray Davis, then the Democratic governor, signed a bill that committed the
state to obtaining a fifth of its power from renewable sources, not
including nuclear or large hydro-electric power stations, by 2017. Last
year, in a typically cocky gesture, the deadline was brought forward to
2010.
Mr Schwarzenegger now jets around the United States and Canada (covering
his emissions by buying offsets in a working redwood forest), commending
other states on their efforts to control global warming and bashing the
federal government for failing to take action. His message is perfectly
pitched both to Californians' belief that they are America's innovators and
to the western suspicion of big government. It helps enormously that he is a
Republican—“a Republican going against type” as Terry Tamminen, an adviser,
puts it. If he were not, it would be easy to typecast him as a lefty
tree-hugger.
Thanks in part to California's example, most of the western states have
adopted climate action plans. When it comes to setting emission targets, the
scene can resemble a posedown at a Mr Olympia contest. Arizona's
climate-change wonks decided to set a target of cutting the state's
emissions to 2000 levels by 2020. But Janet Napolitano, the governor, was
determined not to be out-muscled by California. She has declared that
Arizona will try to return to 2000 emission levels by 2012.
All of which is a welcome change from business as usual. California has
not just inspired other states; it has created a vanguard that ought to be
able to prod the federal government into stronger national standards than it
would otherwise consider. But California is finding it easier to export its
policies than to put them into practice at home.
The state's first hurdle, which requires it to generate a fifth of its
electricity from renewable sources in three years' time, now seems
impossibly high. Last year it managed just 11%. Although the energy
companies are eagerly signing up wind and sun farmers, there is simply not
enough supply out there—at least, at the price the companies want to pay.
Meanwhile, the plan to install solar roofs on houses has been stymied by the
high cost of photovoltaic panels, red tape and a requirement, temporarily
suspended, that customers buy additional power at rates that vary according
to demand. That would have increased some households' energy bills.
Loud words, soft actions
Despite making some optimistic assumptions about future contracts, the
public utilities commission has concluded that the state will miss its
target for renewables. And the aim of cutting emissions from electricity
production to 1990 levels by the end of the next decade may be just as
unrealistic. Art Rosenfeld, the energy commissioner, has tried to work out
how it can be done. He, too, makes heroic assumptions about improved energy
efficiency, but still cannot make the sums add up.
It is a bad sign that California's electricity suppliers are struggling,
because electricity is something over which the state wields considerable
control. It has less power over carmakers, who are fighting to prevent
California imposing emissions standards on them. If they succeed, even
temporarily, California's goals will become unreachable. Thanks partly to
the lack of rain and snow in California, vehicles stay on the road for a
long time. It takes 16 years for half the cars made in a given year to be
retired from service.
The state has even less power to slow the growth of its population, or to
dictate where people live. It hopes “smart growth” policies (which encourage
people to live closer together, and to take public transport) can get it a
whopping 15% of the way towards its overall 2020 goal. But the news from
that front is discouraging. The state is growing fastest in what Joel Kotkin
and William Frey, in a report for the Brookings Institution, call the “third
California”—a wide strip of dusty land sandwiched between the Pacific coast
and the Sierra Nevada mountains. Between 2000 and 2005 that area gained
almost 1.4m people—twice as many as southern California and more than 27
times as many as the San Francisco Bay area.
That is a huge environmental problem, for two reasons. First, it is even
harder to do without a car in California's interior than in its sprawling
coastal cities. Second, the interior is much hotter, which means more air
conditioning. Compare, for example, arid Riverside County (which grew more
quickly last year than anywhere else in the state) with maritime Monterey
(which lost more people than anywhere). The average residential user in
Riverside burned 9,911 kilowatt-hours of electricity last year, close to
twice as much as the Monterey average of 5,458.
In one way, California's self-confidence is fully justified. It has done
more than any other state—let alone the federal government—to fix America's
attention on climate change. It has also made it seem as though the problem
can be solved. Which is why failure would be such bad news. At the moment
California is a beacon to other states. If it fails, it will become an
excuse for inaction.
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