Mario Atencio (Diné) fondly recalls a childhood steeped in the tranquil rhythms of traditional Navajo life at his grandmother’s home in Counselor, New Mexico. Her lush property, a verdant sanctuary teeming with animals, represented a profound connection to the land—a legacy now threatened by the relentless encroachment of industrial activity. This idyllic existence began to unravel in 2015 when oil and gas drillers initiated extensive fracking operations across the state’s ecologically and culturally sensitive northwest region, widely known as the Greater Chaco Landscape. The once-peaceful surroundings transformed into a cacophony of industrial noise and a haze of air pollution, irrevocably altering the delicate balance of the natural world. By 2019, the environmental degradation reached a critical point with massive spills that unleashed thousands of gallons of oil, contaminating both the land and its vital underground water sources. The vibrant ecosystem, once a source of sustenance and traditional medicinal herbs, withered, and the rare birds and wildlife that once thrived there began to disappear, casualties of unchecked industrial expansion.

Two years ago, Atencio stepped forward as the lead plaintiff in a groundbreaking climate litigation case that could set a powerful precedent for environmental justice and Indigenous rights. The lawsuit, Atencio v. State of New Mexico, levels serious accusations against the New Mexico Legislature and several state agencies, alleging their active role in harming Indigenous communities and their profound failure to uphold their constitutional duty to prevent detrimental pollution. Atencio articulates a fundamental grievance: "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 statement underscores a critical dimension of the case, highlighting not just environmental damage but also the systemic disregard for the self-determination and sovereignty of Indigenous peoples in decisions impacting their ancestral lands.

After navigating the complexities of the lower legal system, the lawsuit has now reached the highest judicial body in the state: the New Mexico Supreme Court, which agreed this month to hear the pivotal case. Should the court rule in Atencio’s favor, this decision would join a growing roster of high-profile environmental victories that have redefined constitutional rights in the face of climate change. Notable among these is Held v. Montana, a landmark ruling where young plaintiffs successfully argued that the state violated their constitutional right to a healthy environment by failing to adequately regulate greenhouse gas emissions. Similarly, last year, young Indigenous climate advocates in Hawai’i secured a significant win against the state’s Department of Transportation, challenging its continued support for highway expansion projects despite a clear state directive to decarbonize its transportation sector by 2045. These cases signal a nascent but powerful trend in climate litigation, where state-level constitutional provisions are increasingly leveraged to compel governmental action on environmental protection.

Western climate litigants keep fighting

Margaret Barry, who meticulously tracks climate litigation at Columbia University’s Sabin Center for Climate Change Law, notes that similar cases have emerged across nearly every state, yielding a handful of successes over the past decade. State constitutions often include explicit or implicit duties for governments to proactively safeguard residents’ rights, including environmental protections. However, the robustness and interpretation of these provisions vary significantly. In Alaska, for instance, 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. They contended that the state Constitution’s protection of natural resources for the general public implicitly required a livable climate. The Alaska Supreme Court, however, rejected this interpretation in March, underscoring the diverse legal landscapes and judicial approaches to constitutional environmental rights.

New Mexico stands apart due to a specific constitutional amendment adopted by voters in 1971. This amendment unequivocally 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 seasoned attorney from the Center for Biological Diversity spearheading Atencio’s case, asserts that the lawsuit fundamentally argues the state has demonstrably failed to fulfill these explicit constitutional responsibilities. Evans draws a compelling parallel between the state’s constitutional obligation to adequately fund public education—requiring resources for teachers and curriculum development—and its duty to control oil and gas pollution. She contends that when it comes to regulating this industry, New Mexico has "just utterly failed" to equip itself with the necessary tools and resources to safeguard public and environmental health. The lawsuit vividly details how lax enforcement, coupled with a labyrinth of legal loopholes, effectively allows the industry to pollute with minimal accountability or consequence.

Supporting these claims, data from the environmental watchdog group Earthworks reveals a stark reality: in 2023, the New Mexico Environment Department employed a mere two full-time inspectors tasked with investigating complaints across the state’s staggering 56,000 oil and gas facilities. This severe understaffing effectively relegates the industry to largely self-report its emissions of harmful air pollution and potent greenhouse gases like methane. The lawsuit further highlights the experiences of other Diné plaintiffs, including Kendra Pinto, who famously documented a significant methane leak near her home even after the Environment Department had assured her that no such leaks were detected. This anecdote underscores a systemic failure in oversight and enforcement, exposing communities to invisible but dangerous pollutants.

Evans critically points out the ease with which drilling permits are granted: "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 regions like the Permian Basin, a geological formation spanning parts of New Mexico and Texas, where ambient air quality readings routinely exceed federal health standards. Despite documented increases in pollution and associated health risks, new wells continue to receive permits in the region, intensifying the environmental burden on frontline communities. The Permian Basin is a global hotspot for oil and gas production, and its emissions have significant implications for both local public health and global climate targets.

Western climate litigants keep fighting

The potential ramifications of Atencio v. State of New Mexico are immense. A favorable ruling could compel New Mexico, the country’s second-largest fossil fuel producer, to fundamentally reform its environmental regulations and enforcement mechanisms. However, leveraging similar legal victories at the federal level proves significantly more challenging, as observed by Barry. The U.S. Constitution, she explains, primarily functions to limit governmental interference with civil liberties, such as free speech, rather than proactively granting rights like a healthy environment, a distinction that many state constitutions increasingly embrace. This divergence was starkly illustrated in October when a federal judge in Montana dismissed Lighthiser v. Trump. This case sought to expand protections won at the state level in Held v. Montana, with 22 plaintiffs arguing that the Trump administration’s executive orders rolling back climate protections and boosting fossil fuel production violated their constitutional right to a stable and healthy climate. While the judge acknowledged the plaintiffs’ demonstrable harm from climate change, the court ultimately concluded that federal courts lacked the authority to compel the government to alter its policy course, highlighting the limitations of federal constitutional avenues for climate action.

If the New Mexico Supreme Court rules in his favor, Atencio articulates a clear vision for the future. He hopes the state will be legally compelled to meticulously document the adverse effects of oil and gas pollution on Indigenous communities’ health and their sacred lands. Crucially, this documentation must then translate into concrete, protective actions. Such measures could encompass a moratorium on new oil and gas development until emissions are demonstrably reduced, the closure of existing legal loopholes that allow operators to pollute with impunity, a substantial increase in funding for environmental enforcement, and the establishment of larger, more effective buffer zones between drilling sites and vulnerable populations, including homes and schools.

Evans directly challenges the industry’s frequent defense: "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.’ 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 pointed question cuts to the heart of the matter, suggesting that the industry’s claim of existential threat is an admission of its inability to operate responsibly without causing significant environmental and public health damage. The Atencio case, therefore, represents not just a legal battle for specific environmental protections but a profound challenge to the fundamental operating principles of a powerful industry and the regulatory framework that permits its existence. The eyes of environmental advocates, Indigenous communities, and the broader climate justice movement are now firmly fixed on the New Mexico Supreme Court, awaiting a decision that could reshape environmental policy and uphold the constitutional right to a healthy planet for generations to come.