Two percent of earthquakes are linked to hydraulic fracturing operations; these manmade “quakes” have been devastating to homeowners across the country since they induce unsafe conditions and expensive property damage. Fracking is the process of using pressurized water with chemicals to create fractures in underground rock layers to extract oil and gas. Fracking fluid is a combination of water and chemicals used to perform the fracturing, once finished this fracking fluid has to be disposed of and is often injected deep into the earth, which is known to induce “quakes.”

In March, The New York Times ran a story about a feud between two neighbors in Fairfax, Virginia, over an unsightly, three-story home addition. The homeowner’s next-door neighbor was angered by the 32-foot-tall addition, which towered over her single-story home from the edge of his property. After complaints about the addition drew local news attention, the zoning board investigated and found that it was 7.2 inches too close to the neighbor’s property, which violated the required 8-foot setback rule. A stop-work order was issued, and construction stopped. Now, the addition stands empty and unfinished, useless to the homeowner and an eyesore to the neighbors.

In 2007, Barry B. Benson, voiced by Jerry Seinfeld in the beloved Bee Movie, made history by arguing his rights as an insect before the New York Superior Court, claiming that honey industry actors conspired to defraud Benson’s certified class, “all bees of the world.” Today, in real-world combined efforts among biologists, lawyers, and the bees they seek to protect, the stingless bees of Peru have the opportunity to follow in Barry’s illustrious footsteps, symbolizing an important shift away from an anthropocentric legal practice and toward one of biocentrism.

In 2019, a single-family home located at the entrance of my suburban neighborhood was bought to be rented to families looking to live in the county’s best school district. Previously inhabited by a quiet couple who worked hard to keep their yard presentable, the home was now victim to a slew of families moving in and out on a yearly basis. The third rental tenant to occupy the home in 2021 made it immediately evident that yard upkeep was not one of their priorities. Three months into their rental period, the tenants allegedly experienced a bedbug infestation, prompting them to burn their mattresses in their backyard. Placing them only a few feet from the home, they doused the mattresses in gasoline and watched them, along with the grass and the back of the house, burst into flames.

For nearly twenty years, an abandoned office building and adjacent retail property sat at a heavily trafficked intersection in Northern Virginia. The buildings were owned by an absentee landlord who had moved to New York and failed to maintain the property. Over time, the structures fell into severe disrepair: windows were broken, birds nested inside leaving droppings throughout the building, walls were covered in spray paint, fixtures had been removed, and the property suffered from leaks, infestations, and other deterioration. Homeless individuals frequently occupied the space, further contributing to the unsafe and unsightly condition.

Have you ever rented an apartment unit in college or in the city? If so, you might recall a time when you encountered a noisy neighbor. Quick-build luxury apartments often breed noise pollution because management companies will sacrifice high quality building material for cheap alternatives. The result is disruptive noise, frustrated tenants, and deceptive leasing agents looking to sell units quickly.

In 2010, my family had new neighbors move into the house behind us—their backyard shared a fence with ours. Our neighborhood allowed for most houses to have a backyard and a substantial amount of space, but not an excessive amount. For example, I could see the yards of my neighbors on all sides from my yard. For a few months, there was no change. However, after about six months, they got chickens. Not one or two, but an entire henhouse of chickens and a rooster. Not only did the rooster wake the neighborhood up with its crowing at dawn, but the chickens attracted the ever-growing fox population in my Pennsylvania suburb.

In Randle v. City of Tulsa, three remaining survivors of the Tulsa Race Massacre filed suit against the City of Tulsa seeking an abatement of public nuisance caused by the City’s unreasonable, unwarranted, and unlawful acts and omissions stemming from events that transpired in 1921. In 1997, the Oklahoma Legislature passed the House Joint Resolution 1035, which created the 1921 Tulsa Race Riot Commission. The Commission was tasked with establishing a historical account of the racial violence that occurred in Tulsa’s Greenwood community from May 31 to June 1, 1921—events now known as the Tulsa Race Massacre. During this period, a white mob caused devastating destruction, killing an estimated 100 to 300 people, most of whom were African American, and destroying over 1,200 homes, schools, churches, and businesses. This violence continued and state and local authorities worsened the situation by arresting and detaining Black residents. Efforts by Greenwood residents to rebuild were actively obstructed by local officials who sought to prevent the reconstruction by amending the Tulsa building code to require costly fireproof materials. Thus, rebuilding became financially impossible for many.

Can a single farmer hold a multinational energy company accountable for climate change? That’s the question at the heart of a lawsuit brought by Peruvian farmer Saúl Luciano Lliuya against German energy giant RWE. Lliuya, whose home in the Andean city of Huaraz is threatened by glacial melt linked to global warming, argues that RWE, one of Europe’s biggest emitters of greenhouse gases, should pay for part of the costs needed to protect his town from catastrophic flooding.