They say climate action matters, but they’re silencing the people fighting for it.
It’s not just that climate action is being ignored—it’s that the people demanding it are being punished. Peaceful protestors are branded as extremists, journalists are arrested for covering pipeline resistance, and the legal system is being weaponized to scare activists into silence. We’ve reached a point where fighting for the planet doesn’t just feel risky—it is.
And the irony? The same governments that claim to be “going green” are cracking down hardest on those pushing them to move faster. The repression isn’t always loud or headline-grabbing. Sometimes it’s subtle: a permit denied, a lawsuit filed, a jail sentence that makes others think twice. These aren’t isolated incidents—they’re a coordinated effort to shut down dissent. Because if resistance becomes too costly, too frightening, or too invisible, the system wins without ever having to change.
1. Peaceful protestors are being slapped with felony charges.
Marching, occupying, chaining, sitting—classic protest tactics are being rebranded as criminal threats. In multiple U.S. states, activists who trespass near oil pipelines can be charged with felonies under “critical infrastructure” laws, even if no damage occurs. Hilary Beaumont and Nina Lakhani reveal in The Guardian that fossil fuel lobbyists helped draft many of these laws, which are now being used to hit peaceful protestors with severe criminal penalties for actions once treated as minor infractions. This isn’t just about keeping protest “orderly.” It’s about reclassifying resistance as criminal behavior to discourage future action.
If showing up could land you in prison, fewer people will show up. These charges don’t just punish—they intimidate. And that’s the point. People willing to risk arrest for the planet are now being hit with lifelong records and years behind bars. The message is loud and clear: speak up, and we’ll make sure it costs you everything.
2. Fossil fuel companies are suing activists into silence.
In courtrooms across the country, fossil fuel companies are filing massive lawsuits against activists who protest their operations. Advocates at EarthRights describe these as SLAPP suits—strategic lawsuits against public participation—meant not to win, but to overwhelm protestors with legal costs and intimidation. The companies often know they won’t win. They don’t have to. The goal is to make activism financially devastating, even when it’s legal.
A protestor blocking construction or organizing a rally can suddenly find themselves facing a multi-million-dollar lawsuit. Legal bills pile up. Support networks are stretched thin. And everyone watching thinks twice about joining the next action. These lawsuits send a clear message: even if the law is on your side, we’ll make you pay for challenging us. And they work. People start to self-censor, skip protests, or walk away entirely—not because they don’t care, but because they can’t afford to fight back.
3. New laws are redefining protest as domestic terrorism.
Some of the most chilling anti-protest laws passed in recent years quietly slipped in language that equates climate resistance with terrorism. Nicholas Kusnetz reports in Inside Climate News that laws in states like Louisiana and Oklahoma now classify protests near fossil fuel infrastructure as potential threats to “critical infrastructure,” opening the door to felony charges and comparisons to domestic terrorism. These laws don’t just increase penalties—they shift public perception.
Once protest is labeled “terrorism,” it no longer deserves protection. It’s treated as a threat to national security. This paves the way for surveillance, harsher sentencing, and justification for extreme police force. And it does something else, too—it isolates activists from public sympathy. Instead of brave or principled, they’re seen as dangerous.
That shift makes it easier to ignore their message and harder for others to join them. It doesn’t matter that they’re unarmed, peaceful, or legally on the land. The label alone is enough to erase their humanity.
4. Indigenous land defenders are being brutalized and ignored.
When Indigenous groups defend their ancestral land from pipelines, logging, or mining, they’re often met with military-style crackdowns. Police show up in riot gear. Helicopters hover. People are dragged from ceremony sites, sometimes at gunpoint. And while these images occasionally go viral, most of the time they’re barely covered—if at all.
What’s happening isn’t new. It’s a continuation of centuries-long violence and erasure. The difference now is that many of these land defense efforts are also critical climate interventions. Protecting water sources and forests protects all of us. But the defenders bear the full weight of state violence. They’re surveilled, arrested, and silenced for acts of protection and resistance. And when Indigenous sovereignty is treated as a nuisance by governments and corporations alike, the climate fight loses some of its fiercest, most experienced leaders—by design.
5. Journalists covering climate resistance are being arrested.
You’d think press passes would shield reporters from arrest, but more and more journalists documenting climate protests are being detained alongside activists. In some cases, they’ve been charged with trespassing or interfering with infrastructure, even while clearly identifying themselves as members of the media.
The goal isn’t always conviction—it’s disruption and intimidation. When journalists are arrested for doing their jobs, the stories stop reaching the public. And when the public doesn’t see what’s happening, repression operates more freely. These arrests send a warning: cover this, and you could be next. And since many of these journalists are freelancers without the backing of major outlets, they’re easier to target and harder to protect.
In a moment when transparency is everything, cracking down on the people documenting resistance is one of the most strategic and insidious ways to keep that resistance from growing.
6. Bail is being set intentionally high to keep protestors in jail.
In cities across the U.S., climate activists have been hit with excessive bail amounts—sometimes tens of thousands of dollars—for peaceful protest actions like chaining themselves to machinery or occupying public land. These aren’t people accused of violence. They’re being priced out of freedom simply for showing up and saying no.
Bail isn’t supposed to be punitive. It’s meant to ensure someone returns for trial. But when the system starts using high bail to keep organizers behind bars for weeks or months, it becomes a tool of political suppression. Protestors miss work. Their families go into debt trying to get them out. Others watching from the sidelines start asking, “Can I afford to do what they just did?” The point isn’t just punishment—it’s deterrence. And the unspoken message is brutal: If you resist, we’ll make sure you can’t go home.
7. Police are using surveillance tactics meant for criminals and terrorists.
Protestors are being tracked like threats, not citizens. Police departments and private contractors have used drones, facial recognition, undercover officers, and even geofencing technology to monitor environmental activists. These tools were originally built for counterterrorism. Now they’re aimed at people holding signs or camping in the woods.
This kind of surveillance creates an atmosphere of paranoia. Organizers second-guess who’s in their meetings. Phones are left behind. Emails go unanswered. The emotional toll is heavy—especially for young or first-time activists.
When simply planning a protest gets you flagged by law enforcement or corporate security, it makes even lawful resistance feel dangerous. That’s the goal. Surveillance doesn’t just watch—it disrupts, discourages, and destabilizes. It makes movements smaller, less connected, and easier to control.
8. Protest camps are being raided in pre-dawn paramilitary sweeps.
It’s become a pattern. A peaceful encampment goes up to block construction or defend sacred land. Tents, banners, sometimes a communal kitchen. Then at 4 a.m., the police arrive—often in riot gear, with flashlights, dogs, and batons.
People are dragged from their sleeping bags. Phones are confiscated. Livestreams are cut. These raids aren’t about “safety.” They’re coordinated shows of force meant to break resistance while it’s still waking up. And they’re increasingly common. At Standing Rock, Line 3, Cop City, and beyond, this is how eco resistance is met: with military-grade intimidation. The camps are often destroyed, belongings trashed or burned. Even when no one is charged, the effect is the same. Exhaustion sets in. Fear grows. And the next camp is just a little harder to build.
9. Climate protest is being banned from public spaces altogether.
Permits denied. Marches rerouted. Demonstrations “temporarily” banned from key areas. These tactics are becoming more common, especially around government buildings and energy infrastructure.
Officials cite safety or “public disruption,” but the result is always the same: protest gets pushed farther out of sight and earshot. This kind of repression doesn’t make resistance disappear—it just makes it easier to ignore. When protestors are penned into “free speech zones” miles from the actual event, their impact is neutered. And when organizers can’t even get a permit, any action they take becomes a legal risk. It’s a quiet but powerful way to silence dissent—not by stopping it, but by making sure no one hears it. In a democracy, that should be alarming.
10. Forest defenders are being charged with domestic violence enhancements.
Yes, you read that right. In places like Atlanta, protestors occupying forests to block destruction have been arrested under state domestic terrorism laws, which come with heavier charges and broader investigative powers. These activists aren’t planting bombs—they’re sitting in trees. But prosecutors are applying laws meant for violent extremists to people trying to stop deforestation. The term “domestic terrorism” changes everything. It justifies surveillance, jail time, and public vilification. It also distorts the public narrative.
Instead of discussing the reason people are protesting—like environmental destruction or police militarization—the headlines focus on “terror suspects.” It’s a calculated move to shut down public empathy and reduce the protest to a threat. And it’s working.
11. The climate movement is being painted as anti-worker and anti-progress.
When activists challenge pipelines or protest refineries, they’re accused of killing jobs or slowing economic growth. Politicians and corporations frame them as elitist, out-of-touch, or anti-worker—ignoring the fact that many climate movements are led by workers, Indigenous leaders, and low-income communities.
This narrative is powerful because it divides potential allies. It pits labor against climate, even though the two are deeply connected. Clean air, safe jobs, and livable futures shouldn’t be in competition.
But by branding climate resistance as selfish or unrealistic, the system turns public opinion against it. Protest becomes synonymous with obstruction. Resistance is framed as regression. And the people most invested in a better future are written off as enemies of progress.