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| Photo of a red tide by John Moran. |
Nationally, the Republican Party's agenda is to create a new Gilded Age where the rich live the lives of old word aristocrats and the rest of us are peasants and serfs. Environmentally, they want to eliminate environmental regulations that block corporate interests from polluting the air and the water. Donald Trump, a/k/a Der Trumpenführer, has rolled back Obama era regulations that would have lowered air and water pollution. Here in Virginia, for the last eight years Democrat governors have sought to mitigate the efforts of Republicans who in some cases have banned even the utterance of the words "climate change." Red states under Republican control have not fared as well. Florida under GOP governor Rick Scott is a case in point. Scott has worked to roll back environmental protections and now Florida finds itself in a crisis separate and apart for the aftermath of Hurricane Michael. Thankfully, as laid out in a long
Politico Magazine piece, Scott's anti-environment efforts are coming back to haunt him as he runs for the U.S. Senate. Here are article highlights:
John
Moran is a Florida nature photographer, but lately he sees himself as a Florida
crime photographer. The crime, he likes to say, is the slime.
But one of
Moran’s most popular images, a grinning man relaxing on a pink inner tube with
his feet slathered in algae, is considerably less artsy. The man’s face is a
crudely Photoshopped Rick Scott, the Republican governor of Florida, with a
speech bubble that reads: “Come on in. The water’s fine!” Scott is running for
U.S. Senate, and Moran wants to make sure voters associate him with the nasty
mess that is sickening puppies and beachgoers, forcing lifeguards to wear gas
masks, and imperiling the coastal tourist economy that makes Florida go.
“Scott has been
so terrible on these issues, he’s really promoted the cause of environmental
awareness in Florida,” says Moran, whose more serious work on the devastation
is on display at a “Summer of Slime” exhibit at Gainesville’s Florida Museum.
“It takes a moment like this and a person like that to wake people up.”
The ecological meltdown of Florida’s waters — a toxic rainbow
coalition of red tide, blue-green algae and a touch of brown algae — has been
very bad news for Scott, or, as he’s been dubbed on social media, #RedTideRick.
Before scenic beaches in snowbird meccas like Sanibel and Sarasota were
inundated with dead manatees, dolphins and turtles, most polls had Scott ahead
of Democratic Senator Bill Nelson, even as other Republican candidates
struggled in more safely Republican states. The prediction model at
FiveThirtyEight now gives Nelson a slight lead, a shift that seems to owe more
to biological red tide than any political blue wave.
Scott would
prefer to focus the race on Florida’s low unemployment rate, Nelson’s low
profile in Washington, and his own leadership handling storms like Hurricane
Michael. But the putrid slime befouling his state has been difficult to avoid —
Hurricane Michael actually blew the red tide back into Tampa Bay, where it
littered the area's beaches with dead mullet — and Scott has found it difficult
to change the subject.
He recently cut
short a statewide bus tour after eco-protesters chanting about Red Tide Rick
chased him out of an event in heavily Republican Venice on Florida’s west
coast. In August, he dodged a much larger crowd of disgruntled homeowners after
taking a private boat tour of the algae-choked St. Lucie River in heavily
Republican Stuart on the east coast.
[W]ater
quality is a state responsibility, and while Scott has made occasional eco-friendly
moves during his eight years in office, he has consistently weakened regulation
and enforcement of the nutrients that fuel algae blooms. And even though warmer
water can supercharge those blooms, as well as hurricanes like Michael that
can spread those blooms, Scott has done nothing to deal with climate change.
State employees in his administration were even cautioned not to say those two
words. Florida’s
politicians have a long and sordid history of promoting the exploitation rather
than the conservation of the state’s unique natural resources. But it’s become
a real political problem for Scott now that Florida’s waters, its economic
golden goose, are in such a conspicuous state of crisis. National publications
keep running bad-for-the-brand headlines like “Toxic Slime Is Ruining Florida’s
Gulf Coast” (in Bloomberg BusinessWeek) and “A Toxic Tide Is Killing
Florida Wildlife” (in the New York Times).
After red tide
unexpectedly showed up Thursday in Miami, shutting down beaches and threatening
a multibillion-dollar hospitality industry, local filmmaker Billy Corben tweeted a parody of the state tourism bureau’s Visit Florida
ads, featuring footage of poisoned marine life interspersed with footage of
Scott assuring the public Florida is open for business, over the pounding beat
of Pitbull’s “Sexy Beaches.”
“Nothing
ever stuck to Teflon Rick, but pardon the pun, the algae is sticking,” Corben
says. “It’s such a rich irony that he’s going to be done in by Mother Nature.”
The problem for
Scott is that his victories were 1-point squeakers during the Republican
landslides of 2010 and 2014, while 2018 looks like a much more Democratic year.
And even loyal Republicans don’t seem to enjoy slime in their backyards. People
come to Florida to enjoy the outdoors, and the recurring water crises of recent
years—in the Everglades, Florida Bay, Lake Okeechobee, the springs of north
Florida, and the near-shore estuaries along the east and west coast—have
inspired a new movement of digitally savvy activists determined to punish
politicians who neglect the state’s natural jewels. Bullsugar.org, a local
group formed a few years ago to counter the sugar industry’s influence on water
decisions, now has 330,000 followers on Facebook, and it’s using its own
influence to support Nelson.
“His [incumbent
Senator Nelson] greatest asset,” says Bullsugar co-founder Chris Maroney, a
retired internet entrepreneur, “is that he’s not Rick Scott.”
Since
becoming in governor in 2011, Scott has pushed to evade even that limited
scrutiny. One of his early moves was to petition the Obama administration’s
Environmental Protection Agency to drop its push for specific numerical limits
on nutrient pollution in Florida; he argued that the feds should leave nutrient
control entirely to the state. At the same time, Scott was gutting the budgets
and staffs of state environmental agencies and water management districts,
shifting their focus from enforcement of pollution violations to reduction of
regulatory burdens, and eliminating the state’s growth management agency
entirely. He would later repeal a law requiring routine inspections of septic
tanks to make sure they weren’t leaking untreated waste into state waters. In
a recent debate, Nelson described the mess as a direct result of Scott
“systematically disassembling the environmental agencies of this state … You
put pollution in the water, it will grow the algae in the heat of summer.” His
ads are just as blunt: “The water is murky, but the fact is clear: Rick Scott
caused this problem.”
Kimberly
Mitchell, executive director of the Everglades Trust, is also a Republican who
served as a city commissioner in West Palm Beach. She thinks the toxic
nightmare seeping around the state will hurt her party in November — and after
two decades of using its control of Tallahassee to help agricultural interests
and other polluters, she thinks that hurt will be well-deserved. “People see the
death and destruction on their social media, and they realize they’ve got to do
something,” she says. “They’re awake now, and I think a lot of Republicans
don’t want that.”
In surveys,
Americans rarely cite the environment as a top priority, even though most
voters support strict environmental regulations. But nature is so intimately
connected to Florida’s economy and culture that green issues can tilt elections
here.
Now,
nature is having another political moment in the Sunshine State. The activist
Erin Brockovich was in Fort Myers last week to raise awareness about the
crisis. Andrew Gillum, the Democratic nominee for governor, attracted an
astonishing crowd of more than 1,200 to an environmental rally in Stuart over
the weekend, promising to “put the word ‘protection’ back into the Department
of Environmental Protection.” His opponent, Congressman Ron DeSantis, has been
a reliable vote for the House Republican war on environmental regulation, but
he’s running as a Teddy Roosevelt conservationist; his first general-election
ad touted his determination to take on Big Sugar and save the Everglades. In some ways,
though, the situation is simple. Scott has spent eight years portraying himself
as the jobs-jobs-jobs governor, rolling back environmental rules and
enforcement that job creators didn’t like, and now he’s having trouble
convincing Floridians he’s also been a nature-nature-nature governor. Whether
Mother Nature helps knock him off, or whether he manages to win despite the
slime spreading on his watch, the race could send a national message about the
environment’s power or lack thereof to take revenge on politicians who mistreat
it.
The situation
has also provided a timely reminder that in Florida, nature-nature-nature
creates jobs. . . . And if they [algae blooms and red tides] become an annual
phenomenon, they could scare away out-of-state visitors who spend more than
$100 billion in Florida every year.
If you care about the quality of the air you breathe and the water you drink - or, in my own case, have in your backyard - there's really no choice but to vote Democrat. To do otherwise is environmental suicide.