Jim Klein: “You don’t have to save the world alone…”

Jim Klein is a professor of history at Del Mar College and one of Corpus Christi’s most steadfast environmental advocates. Raised on a farm in northwest Iowa, Klein’s journey has taken him from Catholic school to asphalt crews, from Taiwan to Georgia, and finally to Texas, where he’s taught, organized, and served. Known for his role in leading the fight against the defeated Las Brisas Energy Center and for his outspoken tenure on the Corpus Christi City Council, Jim combines deep historical knowledge with a practical vision for a more just and sustainable future.

The Current recently sat down with Jim and asked him to answer five questions. Here’s what he had to say:

You’ve lived in a number of different places. What brought you to Corpus Christi?

Well, it wasn’t a straight path. I grew up in a little town in northwest Iowa — really rural, 350 people or so. My early education was all Catholic school, and at one point I even considered becoming a priest. But I eventually pursued journalism and history at the University of Iowa, working odd jobs to stay afloat: driving buses, laying asphalt, even spending a few years at a junkyard. In the mid-90s, my wife Teresa and I decided not to tie ourselves down by buying a home in Iowa. Instead, we took off to Taiwan to teach English for a year. After that came Madison, Wisconsin, and then graduate school at Oklahoma State, followed by teaching stints in Georgia. By 2006, we were ready to settle somewhere more permanently. I was fortunate to be offered a job at Del Mar College, and not long after, Teresa also joined the faculty. Corpus quickly became home for us. We both loved the students and the community, and over time, our work and values became increasingly tied to what was happening here — especially environmentally. So it wasn’t just the job that brought us, it was the chance to invest long-term in a place that clearly needed more voices for change.

What first got you involved in environmental activism?

We were already generally concerned about the environment, but the big turning point came in 2008, when we heard about a proposed petroleum coke power plant called the Las Brisas Energy Center. Friends invited us to a public meeting the same night as the Obama–McCain debate. We almost skipped it, but thankfully we didn’t. What we learned that night floored us. The application to build this massive polluting facility right on the Corpus Christi Ship Channel was rushed, careless, and just obviously dangerous. Environmental groups like the SEED Coalition and Public Citizen laid out how this plant would increase air pollution in the city by 70 to 80 percent. Medical experts warned it could cause 70 premature deaths each year. And yet, local government bodies — the city council, the county, the school board, even Del Mar College’s board — were bending over backwards to approve it. Some officials even had financial conflicts of interest they refused to disclose or recuse themselves for. It was jaw-dropping. That experience led to the founding of the Clean Economy Coalition, which was a comprised of local voices – we were professors, parents, neighbors. We wanted economic development, but not at the expense of health, or the truth. That fight taught me how important it is to connect environmental policy to democratic accountability — and really, it’s shaped everything I’ve done since.

What lessons did you take away from your time on city council?

City government works, but only as well as the information it's based on — and I learned quickly that elected officials often aren’t getting the full picture. When you’re on the dais, you rely on city staff to bring you accurate and complete data. But when that staff is managed top-down, with a culture of withholding or massaging the truth, you're flying blind. One of the most glaring examples came when city staff visited a desalination plant in Tampa, Florida, and came back singing its praises. They told local media that it was functioning wonderfully and serving as a model for us. But in fact we discovered the plant had been offline for nearly a year due to corrosion — the structure literally couldn't handle the salt air. Staff failed to mention that. Whether it was incompetence or deliberate omission, either way, it undermined the trust required to govern effectively. Another takeaway: you quickly become the target of flattery and deference. People laugh harder at your jokes, agree with your ideas, invite you to more dinners. If you're not careful, you start believing your own PR. I used to joke that I’d never been so smart or so handsome as when I got elected to city council. That kind of environment can soften your backbone if you're not grounded.

What’s your biggest concern about desalination?

Let’s start with the obvious: desalination threatens the health of Corpus Christi Bay. These facilities discharge highly concentrated brine — full of salt and often contaminated with heavy metals — right back into shallow bays that can’t flush it out quickly. That can devastate ecosystems and shellfish populations. When we’re a city that depends on tourism, fishing, and a healthy coast, that’s just reckless. But even beyond that, my biggest concern is financial. These plants aren’t being built to serve the public, they’re being built for industry. ExxonMobil, for example, has access to 25 million gallons of water per day. And who are the people footing the bill? Ordinary residents. In other cities, water rates have tripled after desal projects. San Diego built one out of sheer necessity. They had no alternative water source. But here in Corpus, we have other options: conservation, groundwater, better infrastructure. The bottom line is that if projects are designed to benefit industry, then industry should pay for them. Period. Instead, we're seeing our city go into debt and our residents asked to shoulder rate hikes to enable more industrial expansion. It’s unjust, it’s short-sighted, and it’s just completely out of step with where the world needs to go.

What keeps you hopeful?

It’s hard not to feel discouraged when you’ve seen what a lot of us have seen — the closed-door deals, the conflicts of interest, the way public institutions can be captured by private money. But what gives me hope is the younger generation. They’re more engaged than I ever was at their age. They’re not afraid to call out hypocrisy, not afraid to demand better. At Del Mar College, I see students who understand the intersection of environment, justice, and democracy. They’re passionate, curious, and hungry for change. Some of them get frustrated — understandably so — but I tell them: focus on a cause you care about. Find good people. Organize. You don’t have to save the world alone, and you shouldn’t try to. But you can make a meaningful difference in your corner of it. There’s a saying: “Tell me who your friends are, and I’ll tell you who you are.” That applies to organizing, too. Surround yourself with people who are kind, principled, and persistent. The fight for justice is long — sometimes it spans generations. But if we work together, and stick to our values, we can push things in the right direction. And that’s more than enough reason to stay in the fight.