california coast

You need a boost, right?

We’re living under a dark cloud, with a steady downpour of graft, thuggery and baloney.

There’s the raffling of presidential pardons and the attacks on reporters for doing their jobs, the clownish trade war with Canada, the bungled disaster in Iran, the petty obsessions with the ballroom and the Kennedy Center, the hogwash about a stolen election, the attacks on immigrants and the shameless presidential profiteering while working people suffer the cost of Trump’s countless broken promises.

I could go on, and I will. But rest assured, I have not forgotten about the boost I promised.

For all the affronts, nothing strikes me as more sinister than the Trump administration’s ambitious assault on the planet. Despite nearly daily headlines about the global calamity of overheated oceans, melting glaciers, stark weather transformations and species extinction, Trump keeps shoveling more coal onto a fire that will rage long after he’s dead and gone.

He’s gutted environmental protections and scientific research and dismantled clean energy initiatives. Now his administration is rolling back limits on power plant emissions, attempting to open the California coast to more oil drilling and sabotaging the state’s ambitious goals on emission controls and electric vehicle conversion.

We don’t need AI to threaten the future of humanity. We’ve got Trump.

It’s tempting to duck under the covers and wait for the nightmare to end, but the good news is that a lot of people are standing up rather than rolling over, rebelling against the ignorance and callous disregard that threatens our most precious and fragile shared inheritance.

In August, hundreds showed up to defend California’s authority to govern its own coast at a Santa Monica hearing of the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Agency, and 18,000 more people filed comments online.

The rollback of environmental safeguards is, for many, a call to arms.

“Yes, I am discouraged. … But I am not despairing,” said Bill McKibben, an author and environmental activist who is organizing a worldwide event called Sun Day for next year to promote clean energy. “We’re reacting to multiple crises, and we’re led by a pack of fools, so why would anybody not stand up?”

McKibben launched a national movement five years ago called Third Act, and tens of thousands of people 60 and older have signed on to advocate for climate action, voting rights and civic participation. Third Act now operates in about 30 states, with a robust chapter in Southern California.

Former Times reporter Zan Dubin has worked as both a volunteer and a paid communications consultant for Third Act, and I asked her what someone could expect to do if they became a member of Third Act/SoCal.

Environmentalist and author Bill McKibben is organizing a worldwide event called Sun Day next year to promote clean energy.

(Amanda Swinhart / Associated Press)

“We do it all,” Dubin said, from promoting climate-friendly candidates to running phone banks and testifying at public meetings. She said Third Act co-sponsors protests at Dodger Stadium, and she and others planned to meet at Vin Scully Avenue and Stadium Way for Sunday’s game against the San Francisco Giants. They want the Dodgers to stop doing business with Big Oil and bench their sponsorship deal with Phillips 66.

She also called out Disneyland for its exhaust-spewing Autopia attraction, along with former Times climate columnist Sammy Roth, and Disneyland responded by announcing in 2024 that it was switching to electric cars beginning in 2027.

Dubin, co-founder of National Drive Electric Week, said 170 volunteer-led events were being held nationwide over the next month to promote EVs, and she was leading one Friday in Irvine.

“Action is absolutely the antidote to despair,” Dubin said. “I find that despite the onslaught of these horrifying headlines … taking action invigorates me.”

Claremont resident Margaret Davis knows that feeling. She emailed me in 2023, prior to participating in a Third Act event, and said many retirees have time on their hands, which puts them in a powerful position.

“The climate crisis is the greatest existential threat humans have ever faced, hence we live in a time when we can make the greatest change for the better,” Davis wrote at the time.

When I called her a few days ago, Davis told me she’s now a member of Senior Stewards Acting for the Environment. She lives at Pilgrim Place — a senior community with a focus on justice, peace and environment — where residents meet regularly to study, discuss and advocate for sustainability, biodiversity and environmental causes.

“When I was in college in 1970, we had the antiwar movement and that was the first year of Earth Day,” Davis said. “At the time, I thought Earth Day was just a distraction from what was going on in the world.”

Later, she said, “I came to realize it was the biggest issue of all time.”

Climate activist Sim Bilal stands next to pumps at an oil field in Los Angeles in 2024.

(Allen J. Schaben/Los Angeles Times)

Like Davis, I went to college in the ‘70s, and there’s no denying that our aggressively consumptive generation played a key role in manufacturing a crisis for our children and grandchildren. We’ve got matches in our hands and smoke on the horizon, and if we’re honest with ourselves, we’d see atonement not as a hobby, but as a duty.

As for the next generation, climate activist Sim Bilal, 24, said he too shares the sense that this is both a wickedly frightening time and a moment of opportunity.

“In the last month, we’ve gotten more young people involved,” said Bilal, executive director of Youth Climate Stewards 4 Local Action. “We usually have to reach out to them, but so many people have been wanting to get involved, and they’re so eager, and that’s been affirming for me. The policies are depressing, but the fact that people are reenergized and want to fight back is really exciting.”

Bilal said faith in politics, government and corporations is not high among his peers, but he’s trying to grow a network of young people to cultivate and support future leaders.

“A mentor told me there are two kinds of power — organized people, and organized money,” said Bilal, whose activism began when his grandmother died and he began wondering if her cancer, and global warming, were connected to the oil drilling in his South L.A. neighborhood. “We don’t have the money, but a lot of the work we do is political and civic education, demystifying power, and making people understand they have agency.”

You needed a boost, right?

There you go.

Whatever your age, do not despair.

Get off the chair.

steve.lopez@latimes.com

Several times over the past many years, I’ve ended a column about California’s greatest natural asset with the same words:

The coast is never saved, it’s always being saved.

Today I’m beginning with that thought.

The words are not mine. The late Peter Douglas, former executive director of the California Coastal Commission, uttered them many years ago. He was pointing out that it would take constant vigilance to fend off repeated attempts to chip away at the protections he helped enshrine in the Coastal Act.

Over the last few days, the person doing the chipping was Gov. Gavin Newsom, who pushed a bill that would have shredded a page of the Coastal Act in a way that would have benefited a longtime campaign donor.

Odious, yes, but if you’re thinking of running for president one day, why not go for broke?

Coastal protection advocates held their breath late into the night Friday as the clock ticked at the end of the legislative session. But before I let you know how it played out, I’m going to back up a bit.

I’d just returned last week from a trip back east, where I’d taken photos of signs blocking my access to some beaches in Connecticut and New York. A typical under-handed tactic they use is to prohibit parking in beach lots unless you show proof of residence.

If you’re not a resident, goodbye. The parking lot could be nearly empty and they’ll send you away, and then you’ll discover there is nowhere else to park within easy or safe walking distance. It’s a surefire way to essentially privatize beaches.

So I came home eager to remind everyone that we have something special in California, and that we should all be lighting candles on the cake celebrating the 50th anniversary of the Coastal Act.

That’s the framework that established guidelines regarding public access, conservation and development. And it came about because more than half a century ago, when it appeared that the coast was becoming too privatized and industrialized, a citizen uprising led to the protections we enjoy today.

Now back to Gov. Newsom.

I’d barely unpacked my vacation bags when a gaggle of sources and news reports grabbed my attention, and the Calmatters story and headline neatly summed things up:

“Newsom pushes environmental carve-out for campaign donor’s Santa Monica project.”

The project, Calmatters reported, “belongs to Jeff Worthe, who, along with his wife, Kristin Worthe, has donated more than $274,000 to Newsom’s campaigns and inaugural fund between 2018 and 2022, according to state campaign finance records.”

Susan Jordan, of the California Coastal Protection Network, was aghast.

“You don’t expect to have a governor do something so under-handed as this, and now that it’s out in the open, there’s no shame about it,” she told me. ”And he would be the first person to carve out an exemption in the Coastal Act, that has survived all these other attacks over the last 50 years.”

Nice timing, Mr. Governor. I’d just written last month about how President Trump has launched his own attempt to torpedo the Coastal Commission and California’s long-established authority on matters of coastal conservation and development.

You’d like to see the California governor stand tall rather than come off like Trump’s caddy, kicking sand in the faces of those who have taken up stewardship of the coast.

Look, not everyone loves the Coastal Act or the Coastal Commission, which is seen by many as obstructionist and slow-footed. Sometimes, finding the right balance between sensible development and coastal conservation can be complicated.

But in essence, California is about the idea that the coast is not owned by anyone, it’s owned by everyone.

In the case of the Santa Monica project, Jordan asked the right question.

“Why the exemption?”

Is there something so odious about a reworked design that the only way to hustle it across the finish line is to give it a free pass?

“If you want to build in the coastal zone, you need to go through the Coastal Act,” Jordan told me. “That’s why we have the Coastal Act, and I don’t think it should be corrupted by this developer or by the governor.”

Newsom, when asked recently by a reporter to explain what he was up to, had this to say:

“I’m not going to comment about any pending bills.”

Why not? If you’re going to tear up the rule book on coastal development, doesn’t the public deserve an explanation, even if you’ve already got one foot out the door?

The Worthe project would sit just up from the beach in Santa Monica, and, in previous incarnations, it has included a luxury hotel, apartments and a Frank Gehry museum. The Coastal Commission signed off on it a few years ago after extended tussles and finally an agreement regarding low-cost housing provisions. After getting the green light, Worthe pulled back, and his permit expired.

But then Newsom came to the rescue with a trailer bill that aides were still pushing as of Thursday, sources tell me. It would have allowed for an unnamed project in that same location to be put forward again, this time without normal regulatory review in the event that Santa Monica failed to complete its own local coastal plan (LCP) by 2028

And since it could be difficult to meet that deadline, Newsom’s bill essentially provided a way to escape the kind of critical review demanded by the Coastal Act.

In anticipation of a Friday meeting between Newsom and the leaders of the Senate and Assembly, Assemblyman Rick Chavez Zbur (D-Santa Monica) rallied legislators to implore the governor to back off.

Zbur, who had been working on his own coastal development and public access bill and helping assemble Santa Monica’s LCP, was one of a dozen legislators who signed a salty missive that was sent Friday to Newsom, Senate President Pro Tem Monique Limon and Assembly Speaker Robert Rivas.

“We are frustrated that, once again, we must devote time and energy to working to defeat this harmful proposal that creates unprecedented exemptions from the Coastal Act,” the letter said.

It must have made an impact. Late Friday night, when the last whistle blew at the sausage factory, the Newsom exemption had been pulled back.

Victory for the coast.

Zbur told me Saturday morning that it was not clear how the matter had played out when the governor met with the two legislative leaders Friday, but Zbur was grateful to all three of them for letting the matter drop.

“This wasn’t about the project,” Zbur said. “It was about the precedent that would have been set on having people come in and exempting a certain project from the Coastal Act. It would have been a terrible precedent.”

Despite this threat and the recent big-footing by Trump, there’s a silver lining in all of this.

“As long as there are people who want to monetize the coast for their own benefit, you’re going to need people to rise up and say no,” said Kim Delfino, an environmental attorney and founder of Earth Advocacy.

And people did rise up.

Last week, dozens of organizations signed a letter to the governor opposing any “last-minute legislation to create dangerous exemptions to the Coastal Act.” Among them were Heal the Bay, Amigos de Bolsa Chica, L.A. Waterkeeper, Azul, the Surfrider Foundation and Orange County Coastkeeper.

I can think of several ways to end this column, but at the risk of repeating myself, I don’t think I can do better than to lean on this reminder:

The coast is never saved, it’s always being saved.

steve.lopez@latimes.com