The U.S. Supreme Court’s June 20, 2025, ruling in Diamond Alternative Energy, LLC v. EPA may have cemented federal authority to support state-level clean energy initiatives like California’s zero-emission vehicle (ZEV) standards, but it also shines a spotlight on a glaring imbalance: our transition to renewable infrastructure continues to prioritize industrial benchmarks over community benefit.
The decision, which allows fuel producers to challenge—but does not dismantle—the EPA’s waiver for California’s strict emissions rules, upholds the regulatory framework underpinning much of America’s clean-energy transition. Advocates from across the environmental and public sectors welcomed the outcome, citing the legal stability it offers for climate policy and investment. But if this legal affirmation is to catalyze genuine transformation, the vision must go beyond mandates and metrics—it must center on people.
In its current form, much of our renewable infrastructure policy emphasizes scale and speed. We measure success by gigawatts installed, vehicles electrified, or permits issued. What too often gets lost in the shuffle are the communities where these transitions play out—and the uneven distribution of their costs and benefits.
Rural and low-income communities, for example, are frequently on the front lines of environmental degradation yet remain last in line for clean energy infrastructure. It is not enough to legislate the phaseout of internal combustion vehicles; residents in small towns need the charging infrastructure, public transit alternatives, and local job retraining programs to participate in the shift. Without these supports, climate policy can feel more punitive than empowering.
Similarly, wind and solar installations may be billed as wins for the planet, but if the energy generated is exported without reducing local utility costs or if the surrounding communities are excluded from the planning process, the social contract frays. A just transition demands that communities benefit directly—from employment opportunities to reinvestment in local education and public services.
Consider the role of public libraries, which have emerged as grassroots centers for climate and digital literacy. These institutions can play a vital role in connecting communities with information about clean energy, resilience strategies, and federal assistance programs. But they, too, require robust, consistent public investment—something that today’s legal win helps secure, but which must be paired with intentional policy design.
What’s needed is a deliberate shift in how we approach renewable infrastructure: from a top-down, technocratic model to a participatory, people-centered framework. This means engaging community organizations in the planning process, designing policies that adapt to local contexts, and funding not just physical infrastructure, but the social infrastructure that makes it usable and equitable.
Environmental justice must be more than a checkbox in a permitting process—it must be woven into every stage of development. This involves partnering with frontline communities to identify needs, providing funding for grassroots-led projects, and ensuring long-term accountability through transparent reporting and democratic governance.
The Biden administration has made strides with initiatives like the Justice40 program, which seeks to direct 40% of the benefits of certain federal investments to disadvantaged communities. But implementation remains uneven, and the stakes are too high for half measures. As climate change accelerates, so too must our commitment to inclusive, community-driven solutions.
The Supreme Court’s ruling is a pivotal moment, but it’s just the start. Laws and regulations create a scaffolding for change, but the structure will only stand if it’s built with—and for—the people it intends to serve. We must ensure that renewable energy is not just cleaner, but fairer. That means looking beyond megawatts and toward the lived realities of communities across the country.
If we fail to do so, the risk is not just technical inefficiency, but the erosion of public trust—a trust essential for sustaining any long-term transformation. Renewable infrastructure must not be a project done to communities but a movement built with them.
