For Mario Atencio (Diné), the memories of his grandmother’s home in Counselor, New Mexico, conjure images of a serene, almost magical existence. He recalls a quintessential "Navajo lifestyle" on lush, verdant property, teeming with dozens of animals, a sanctuary of peace and tradition deeply intertwined with the land. This idyllic vision, however, began to unravel dramatically in 2015 when the oil and gas industry initiated extensive hydraulic fracturing, or "fracking," operations across the state’s vast northwest expanse, an area critically important to Indigenous heritage known as the Greater Chaco Landscape. The tranquility of Atencio’s grandmother’s home soon gave way to a relentless onslaught of noise and pervasive air pollution. The situation escalated to a crisis in 2019, when the land and its vital underground water sources suffered catastrophic contamination from massive spills, unleashing thousands of gallons of crude oil into the delicate ecosystem. The once-bountiful native plants, including traditional medicinal herbs essential to Diné culture and healing practices, ceased to grow, while the area’s unique and rare wildlife populations visibly diminished, victims of an encroaching industrial footprint.
Two years ago, Mario Atencio stepped forward as the lead plaintiff in what has rapidly evolved into a pivotal climate litigation case. This lawsuit directly accuses the New Mexico Legislature and its various state agencies of actively inflicting harm upon Indigenous communities, alleging a fundamental failure to uphold their constitutional mandate to prevent detrimental pollution. Atencio articulates a profound violation of inherent rights, stating, "The rights that we have as Indigenous people to free, informed, prior consent are being violated. We’ve never had people from the government come and say, ‘This is what’s going to happen to your land and water.’" This assertion highlights a core demand for tribal sovereignty and self-determination in decisions impacting ancestral lands, emphasizing the lack of meaningful consultation and respect for Indigenous communities.
The case, after navigating the complex lower court systems, reached a significant milestone this month when the New Mexico Supreme Court agreed to hear the arguments. A favorable ruling for Atencio could cement this case alongside other high-profile environmental justice decisions that have recently reshaped legal landscapes. One such precedent is Held v. Montana, where a group of young plaintiffs successfully argued that the state had violated their constitutional right to a healthy environment by failing to adequately regulate greenhouse gas emissions. Similarly, in Hawai‘i last year, young Indigenous climate advocates achieved a significant settlement against the state’s Department of Transportation. They challenged the department’s continued support for highway expansion projects, which contradicted the state’s explicit directive to decarbonize its transportation sector by 2045, underscoring the growing legal power of youth-led environmental movements.

Margaret Barry, who meticulously tracks climate litigation at Columbia University’s Sabin Center for Climate Change Law, notes that similar cases have been initiated across virtually every U.S. state, yielding a handful of notable successes over the past decade. Barry explains that state constitutions frequently incorporate provisions mandating a proactive governmental duty to safeguard residents’ rights, although the robustness of these protections varies considerably from state to state. For instance, in Alaska, the case of Sagoonick v. State of Alaska saw a group of young people attempt to halt the development of a liquefied natural gas project. Their argument rested on the premise that the state Constitution’s protection of natural resources for the general public implicitly required a livable climate. However, in March, the Alaska Supreme Court ultimately rejected this interpretation, illustrating the diverse judicial interpretations of environmental rights at the state level.
New Mexico’s legal foundation for such claims appears more robust. In 1971, state voters adopted a constitutional amendment that explicitly directs the state government to "provide for control of pollution and control of despoilment of the air, water and other natural resources." Gail Evans, the Center for Biological Diversity attorney spearheading Atencio’s case, confirms that the lawsuit is fundamentally anchored to this specific constitutional provision, asserting that the state has demonstrably failed to fulfill these stipulated responsibilities. Evans draws a compelling analogy to New Mexico’s constitutional obligation to adequately fund public education, where the state must provide resources for teachers and establish clear guidelines for schools. In stark contrast, she argues, when it comes to regulating oil and gas pollution, New Mexico has "just utterly failed" to equip itself with the necessary tools and resources to effectively protect both public health and the environment. The lawsuit systematically alleges that lax enforcement mechanisms and a multitude of regulatory loopholes collectively enable the industry to pollute with minimal accountability or consequence.
Supporting these claims, data from the environmental watchdog group Earthworks reveal a concerning reality: in 2023, the New Mexico Environment Department employed a mere two full-time inspectors responsible for investigating complaints across an astonishing 56,000 oil and gas facilities statewide. This severe understaffing effectively leaves the industry largely to "self-report" its emissions of harmful air pollutants and potent greenhouse gases, raising serious questions about the accuracy and reliability of environmental data. The lawsuit further highlights the experiences of another Diné plaintiff, Kendra Pinto, who personally documented a significant methane leak near her home, even after the Environment Department had assured her that no leaks were detected, exposing a critical gap between official assurances and on-the-ground realities.
Evans underscores the systemic ease with which permits are granted to the industry, stating, "You can get a permit to frack simply for asking. The state doesn’t do any type of environmental or public health overview or consideration before granting that permit." This permissive regulatory environment is particularly alarming in the Permian Basin, a geological formation spanning parts of New Mexico and Texas, which stands as one of the world’s most prolific oil-producing regions. Despite ambient air quality readings in the Permian Basin consistently exceeding federal standards, new wells continue to be permitted in the region, exacerbating an already critical pollution crisis. The economic reliance of New Mexico on the oil and gas industry, which contributes significantly to state revenue, often complicates efforts to impose stricter environmental regulations, creating a challenging balance between economic prosperity and ecological preservation.

The Atencio v. State of New Mexico case holds the potential to compel the country’s second-largest fossil fuel producer to fundamentally reform its operational practices and regulatory oversight. However, leveraging similar legal victories at the federal level has proven considerably more challenging, as noted by Barry. The U.S. Constitution, unlike many state constitutions, is primarily designed to limit the government’s ability to restrict civil liberties, such as free speech, rather than proactively grant rights like a healthy environment. This fundamental difference in constitutional philosophy creates a higher bar for federal climate litigation.
This distinction was starkly illustrated in October, when a federal judge in Montana dismissed Lighthiser v. Trump. This case sought to expand the protections secured at the state level in Held v. Montana, with twenty-two plaintiffs, including several from the original Held case, arguing that the Trump administration’s executive orders rolling back climate protections and boosting fossil fuel production were unconstitutional. They contended these actions would destroy their inherent right to a stable and healthy climate. While the judge acknowledged the plaintiffs were indeed being harmed by climate change, the court ultimately ruled that federal courts lacked the authority to compel the government to alter its policy course, citing issues of separation of powers and justiciability.
Should the New Mexico Supreme Court rule in his favor, Mario Atencio expresses a profound hope that the state will be legally obligated to comprehensively document the devastating health and environmental impacts of oil and gas pollution on Indigenous communities and their sacred lands. Crucially, he anticipates that such documentation will then necessitate concrete action to protect these vulnerable populations and invaluable ecosystems. This could translate into a range of critical measures, including a moratorium on new oil and gas development until emissions are demonstrably reduced, the closure of existing legal loopholes that permit operators to pollute with impunity, a substantial increase in funding for environmental enforcement, and the establishment of larger, more protective buffer zones between drilling sites and residential areas or schools.
Gail Evans confronts the industry’s frequent rebuttal head-on, stating, "What’s so shocking to me is that the industry will come forward and say, ‘If you do what the plaintiffs are asking for, you’ll put us out of business.’" She counters with a poignant ethical challenge: "So you can’t operate in a way that doesn’t harm people’s health and environment? Because that’s what we’re asking for." This question lies at the heart of the burgeoning environmental justice movement, particularly for Indigenous communities who have historically borne the brunt of extractive industries. The outcome of Atencio v. State of New Mexico will not only redefine environmental policy within the state but also send a powerful message about the constitutional enforceability of environmental rights and the imperative for government accountability in protecting its most vulnerable citizens and their ancestral lands in the face of climate change.

