Gatekeepers of Change:

How Nonprofits Block the Climate Solutions They Claim to Want

Last month, in a room full of nonprofit leaders in Denver, I watched a fellow founder's face turn red as he screamed that I was "delusional" for suggesting market-aligned solutions to climate change and food insecurity. The room, initially shocked, quickly closed ranks - not against the screamer, but against me. It wasn't the first time I've faced such resistance, and it won't be the last.

As a disabled veteran developing climate resilience strategies, I've learned that some of the strongest opposition to innovation doesn't come from climate deniers or big oil - it comes from within the very institutions supposedly dedicated to creating change. The barriers to implementing climate solutions aren't just technological or financial; they're deeply human, often hidden, and surprisingly systematic.

Project Drawdown recently published an article about obstacles to climate solutions, citing market failures and resistance to change as key barriers. But there's another layer they missed: the active suppression of innovations that threaten existing power structures, even within the nonprofit sector. I know because I've lived it.

My crime? Proposing that we align food justice initiatives with climate action by installing bio-digesters, creating new retail options, and supporting changes in consumer behavior to address greenhouse gas emissions while feeding more hungry people. It's the kind of practical, market-based solution that should attract broad support. Instead, it triggered a coordinated campaign of whispered rumors and closed doors.

When the head of Colorado's Blueprint to End Hunger told me in August he'd heard I was secretly plotting to "undermine and supplant the food bank system," I realized this wasn't just about my proposal - it was about protecting turf. When a prominent business leader in Boulder mentioned hearing I'd "ripped someone off in Reno," I recognized the pattern. These weren't random rumors; they were tactical responses to perceived threats to the status quo.

The resistance I've encountered becomes even more baffling when examining the actual components of my proposal. I'm not inventing new technology - I'm connecting proven solutions in innovative ways to address multiple challenges simultaneously.

The foundation begins with ThreeSquare Food Bank's breakthrough blast chiller technology in Las Vegas, which revolutionized how prepared food can be rescued and redistributed. To this proven model, I've added another established technology: bio-digesters. This addition creates a closed-loop system in the backend of our food system, turning previously landfill-bound waste into both energy and high-quality compost for regenerative agriculture. It's a straightforward combination that addresses food waste, generates renewable energy, and supports carbon sequestration through improved soil health.

The retail component - my "Nodes" - draws directly from my two decades of experience operating successful businesses in food deserts. These small-format stores would provide plant-based and locally sourced foods directly from regional farmers to urban communities. It's a model designed specifically to thrive in areas that traditional grocers have abandoned, while creating new markets for rural producers.

Yet despite - or perhaps because of - my extensive practical experience, I've found myself dismissed by institutional gatekeepers who seem to believe that only academics or traditional nonprofit leaders can propose valid solutions. My background as a nightclub owner who intimately understands urban food deserts and consumer behavior doesn't fit their notion of "expertise." Never mind that I've spent years in the trenches, watching both the problems and potential solutions unfold in real time.

This pattern of resistance reveals a troubling reality in our fight against climate change. While public discourse focuses on technological barriers or lack of political will, a more insidious obstacle often goes unexamined: the way established institutions - both corporate and nonprofit - actively suppress innovations that challenge their control, even when those innovations could accelerate climate solutions.

Think about the implications: A model that could reduce methane emissions from food waste, support regenerative agriculture, create renewable energy, and improve food access in underserved communities is being actively suppressed not because it doesn't work, but because it works too well. If this is happening to one solution in one region, how many other potentially transformative innovations are being smothered in their cradles?

The nonprofit sector's susceptibility to corporate influence is particularly alarming. When grocery industry players can effectively weaponize charitable networks against climate solutions that might affect their market share, we're witnessing a catastrophic failure of the social impact sector's basic mission. Even more disturbing is how easily these organizations abandon their own stated values of transparency and equity when pressured.

Project Drawdown and other leading climate organizations acknowledge that we need "all of the solutions, all of the time" to address climate change. Yet their own structures often exclude voices from the ground - the entrepreneurs, small business owners, and community leaders who understand firsthand how markets and behaviors can be shifted. By limiting their definition of expertise to traditional credentials, they miss crucial insights from those who've successfully navigated the very systems they're trying to change.

The path forward is clear, even if established institutions refuse to see it. We need a fundamental shift in how we evaluate and implement climate solutions - one that values practical experience alongside academic credentials, embraces market-driven innovation rather than fearing it, and prioritizes actual impact over institutional comfort.

To organizations working in climate and food justice: Your resistance to market-aligned solutions isn't protecting your mission - it's compromising it. When you allow unfounded rumors to drive decisions, when you close ranks against innovators instead of investigating claims, you're not just failing your stated mission; you're actively impeding progress on climate change. It's time to ask yourselves: Are you more committed to preserving your position or to solving the problems you claim to address?

To foundations and funders: Look beyond traditional credentials and institutional affiliations. Some of the most transformative solutions will come from unexpected places - from veterans, small business owners, and community leaders who understand ground-level realities. When you limit your definition of expertise, you limit our collective ability to address climate change.

To fellow innovators facing similar resistance: Don't let institutional gatekeepers define your value or limit your impact. If traditional channels close, create new ones. Build direct connections with communities and businesses that recognize the urgent need for practical solutions. Your experience matters, your solutions matter, and the climate crisis isn't waiting for institutional approval.

The stakes are too high for business as usual. Climate change demands all viable solutions, not just those that maintain existing power structures. It's time to recognize that real expertise comes in many forms, and that protecting institutional territory at the expense of climate action is a luxury we can no longer afford.

The question isn't whether market-aligned climate solutions will succeed - they must. The question is whether established institutions will be remembered as partners in that success or obstacles that needed to be overcome.