On his seventh full day in office, President Joe Biden signed Executive Order 14008, “Tackling the Climate Crisis at Home and Abroad.” Alongside policies aimed at reducing greenhouse-gas emissions, the order promises to “secure environmental justice” for “historically marginalized” communities. In pursuit of that goal, it demands that 40 percent of the benefits of environmental and infrastructure programs flow to specific disadvantaged communities.

That objective might sound commendable, even overdue. But beneath the upbeat progressive jargon, Biden’s “Justice40 Initiative” threatens to gum up the workings of both government and private enterprise and, ultimately, to undermine the very goals the administration claims to value most: lowering emissions and reducing poverty.

The environmental-justice (EJ) movement began in the 1980s with the reasonable claim that minority communities are entitled to equal protection under environmental laws. Over time, however, the movement attracted activists who see EJ as part of a broader leftist struggle. Many describe environmental problems as inevitable by-products of a racist, capitalist society. Longtime EJ activist Richard Moore, for example, said at a Center for American Progress roundtable that American minorities today face “climate injustice, environmental racism, and environmental genocide.”

Moore is the co-chairman of the White House Environmental Justice Advisory Council (WHEJAC), a group of like-minded activists recruited to help the administration shape its EJ policies. The group’s recommendations include ending all investment in “fossil fuels, plastics, dangerous chemicals and nuclear energy” by 2030. Instead, WHEJAC recommends federally subsidized local food cooperatives, community gardens, and “comprehensive wage replacement.”

Like the WHEJAC activists, the White House defines its EJ mission as far broader than reducing pollution or even tackling climate change. In a series of executive orders and public statements, the White House has promised to “spur economic opportunity for disadvantaged communities,” to address shortfalls in housing, transportation, and health care, and to deliver that Biden perennial: “good-paying union jobs.” The administration’s EJ policies rest on the assumption that programs to address pollution and climate change and efforts to solve social problems naturally complement each other. But, of course, the two goals are often in conflict: Should federal agencies aim to reduce emissions as rapidly as possible, or should they prioritize spending more in poor communities even if that means smaller emissions reductions? For example, solar farms are generally most cost-effective when built in large arrays in the countryside, but WHEJAC activists demand that solar panels be installed on public-housing rooftops instead. This would yield far less clean energy per dollar of investment (and, as a roundabout way of boosting economic prospects in distressed neighborhoods, would likely yield spotty results).

Moreover, while the White House says it wants to put EJ goals “at the center of the federal government’s work,” it has given federal agencies vague and confusing guidance on how to carry out that mission. For example, agencies are required to document that 40 percent of the benefits of their green programs reach “EJ communities.” But the White House has left the definition of “benefit” unspecified. “The determination of what constitutes a ‘benefit’ will vary by covered program,” the Office of Management and Budget helpfully explains. The result is a policy muddle.

Some of Biden’s EJ initiatives are moving ahead and could bring real benefits to poor communities. The Bipartisan Infrastructure Bill, for example, allocates $15 billion for the replacement of lead pipes that can contaminate drinking water. But many of the goals set forth so far in his sweeping executive order exist more as progressive aspirations than as fully developed policies. Nonetheless, as Biden’s term enters its final phase, details are coming into focus. They reveal how the administration’s EJ mandates could do serious damage in four related ways.

First, Biden’s EJ agenda diverts spending and administrative resources from straightforward environmental goals, such as reducing pollution and lowering greenhouse-gas emissions, and redirects them toward vague social goals. Under Justice40 mandates, agencies will be forced to prioritize programs that raise union wages or satisfy community activists’ demands rather than those that most effectively reduce emissions.

Second, EJ requirements make government programs less focused and less effective across the board. Even the Department of Defense and national-security agencies are now required to “embed environmental justice into all aspects of their work.” This process requires directing staff and attention away from critical missions and toward “stakeholder consultation,” reports of “data on the benefits directed to disadvantaged communities,” and similar unproductive tasks.

Third, and most ironic, the inefficiencies imposed by EJ policies would particularly stifle both environmental progress and economic opportunity. According to the National Law Review, the legal language in Biden’s executive order “could effectively lower the bar for what stakeholders or federal agencies consider significant impacts” under the National Environmental Policy Act’s already tortuous review process. Obtaining permits for infrastructure projects would become even more difficult. At a time when this administration insists the world is in a climate “emergency,” its own EJ policies would slow down progress toward meeting emissions objectives. These policies would also raise new hurdles to private industry, restricting job opportunities, particularly in poor communities.

Finally, the administration’s EJ focus elevates a pernicious strain of far-left thought both inside and outside of government. While the White House hasn’t adopted all of WHEJAC’s extreme proposals, it has instructed federal agencies to “review and incorporate” the council’s recommendations where possible. Meanwhile, the Inflation Reduction Act provides $3 billion for “environmental and climate justice block grants” to nonprofit groups. The EPA is now working with several leading activist groups to distribute those funds. Earlier this year, Congressmen James Comer and Pat Fallon of the House Oversight Committee asked EPA commissioner Michael Regan what controls are in place to prevent this program from becoming a “slush fund for far-left organizations.” The EPA stonewalled this and similar congressional inquiries for months.

Most Americans support reasonable environmental programs. And poor and minority communities deserve equal protection from pollution. But effective environmental polices — or social policies, for that matter — should seek pragmatic, efficient approaches to measurable goals. Biden’s EJ agenda does the opposite: By combining a progressive social agenda with an expensive environmental program, the president’s Justice40 policy ensures that neither set of goals will be met.