Exposing Injustice in the Clean Energy Transition

Climate, energy, and human rights collide in Asia. This journalist reveals hidden injustices within the underreported region.

Journalist and storyteller Nithin Coca reports on the intersections of climate, environment, human rights, and geopolitics, with a particular focus on Asia. Based in Japan, and having previously worked in the US and Indonesia, Coca brings underreported stories from the region to global audiences. In this interview, he reflects on why intersectional journalism matters, the complexity of Asia’s energy transition, and what keeps him motivated in the face of injustice.

I’m Nithin Coca, a freelance journalist based in Japan. Previously, I lived in the US and Indonesia. I cover environmental issues, climate change, human rights, and geopolitics, mostly in Asia, but always with a global perspective.

That’s a great question. From my perspective, there’s no such thing as a story that’s just about the climate or just about the environment. Every issue has a human dimension. When I started in journalism, I was drawn to bringing human stories to the forefront. Almost every story has a labour angle, a human rights component, or touches on gender and Indigenous rights. You just have to look for it.

Taking an interdisciplinary approach makes journalism richer. One challenge I faced early on, especially as a freelancer, was making stories from Asia feel relevant to audiences in the US or Europe. Supply chains helped bridge that gap, connecting environmental damage or labour exploitation in places like Indonesia or China to the products and trade systems familiar to Western readers.

From a climate standpoint alone, Asia is responsible for over half of global greenhouse gas emissions. It dominates coal, LNG, and petroleum consumption. China is the largest consumer of coal and petroleum, Japan is a major LNG importer, and Australia and Indonesia are among the biggest fossil fuel exporters. The region has a huge population, and it’s where energy use, both fossil and renewable, is growing the fastest.

You can’t write meaningfully about coal without covering Indonesia and China. If you’re reporting on natural gas production in Pennsylvania without acknowledging how demand in Asia shapes that market, you’re missing the full picture.

A lot of energy and commodity flows are now intra-Asian. China imports coal from Indonesia and Australia, not from the US. LNG travels from the Middle East to Japan and China. Many deforestation-linked commodities, like sugar or paper pulp, are traded within Asia or between Asia, Africa, and the Middle East. These are the regions shaping the future of the planet.

Unfortunately, a lot of journalism still operates with a worldview shaped by the 1990s, when the US and Europe dominated global trade. But the last two decades have brought major shifts. If our reporting doesn’t reflect those changes, we’re not telling the full story.

It’s hard to generalise across all of Asia, because every country has its own challenges. But if I had to point to a core issue, I’d say it’s the lack of democracy, civil society strength, and press freedom.

In many countries, like Malaysia, Indonesia, and even Japan, large corporations hold tight control over energy infrastructure and policymaking. In Indonesia, for instance, coal is deeply tied to oligarchy, and even the president has personal connections to coal power. If you can’t address these entrenched networks of power and corruption, transitioning to clean energy becomes extremely difficult.

Even in countries where clean energy is expanding, like China and Vietnam, it’s mostly being rolled out from the top down by the same industrial actors. So while the energy source may be cleaner, the inequality and lack of accountability remain. That creates other problems, like what we’ve seen in Xinjiang, where solar panel production is linked to forced labor and human rights violations.

The big question is, how do you build energy democracy? How do you create community-driven systems that aren’t controlled by oligarchs? Even in Japan, a democratic country, policy decisions are heavily influenced by corporations tied to fossil fuel interests in the Middle East and Southeast Asia. Civil society faces real barriers in pushing for change. So this isn’t just a technology issue, it’s a deep structural challenge.

Much of my work builds on past reporting. I first covered the Uyghur issue in 2018, looking at it through the lens of surveillance and technology. Over time, it made sense to explore it through climate and energy too.

This particular story started when I saw headlines about the world’s largest solar plant being built. But the articles didn’t say where it was. After some digging, I discovered it was in the Urumqi region, near the capital of Xinjiang, which immediately raised red flags. That region has been under international scrutiny for widespread human rights abuses, so the idea of a massive clean energy project being developed there raised critical questions.

The editors at Atmos were fantastic. They supported a justice-oriented approach and encouraged me to dive deep. I couldn’t speak with people inside China, so I interviewed Uyghurs living abroad who are originally from that region. I wanted their voices to be central to the story.

What surprised me was how clearly they saw the solar project as part of the same pattern of exploitation. Xinjiang has long been a hub for coal, gas, and mining. Now it’s solar. But for the local communities, it’s the same companies seizing land, extracting resources, and erasing their culture, just under a new label. From a climate perspective, it may seem like progress, but from a human rights perspective, it’s a continuation of colonial and extractive systems.

I also found that many other mega solar projects in China are being placed in similarly contested areas, like Tibet and Inner Mongolia. It’s part of a wider pattern, governments looking for “empty” land that’s actually inhabited by marginalised communities. And it’s not just China. You see this happening in places like Kashmir or West Papua, Indonesia. It’s a global story, repeating itself in different forms.

These connections are only possible because of the work I’ve done over time. Six years ago, I wouldn’t have had the context or network to pursue this story. That’s why building long-term knowledge and relationships is so important in journalism.

It’s definitely hard. When I think back to my first story on the Uyghur issue in 2018, and realise that things have only gotten worse since then, it’s easy to feel discouraged. As journalists, we want our work to have impact.

What helps me stay grounded is being close to the communities I cover. Spending time with Tibetans and Uyghurs, listening to their stories and witnessing their resilience, is empowering. Despite everything, they continue to fight for justice. That gives me energy to keep doing my part.

I come from a place of privilege. I grew up in the US, in a well-off family, with access to education and opportunity. I’ve always seen journalism as a way to use that privilege to amplify voices that are being ignored or silenced. When I publish stories on the Uyghur issue, the people I speak to are so thankful. They’re incredibly kind and grateful, and it humbles me. I don’t feel like I’ve done anything extraordinary. They’re the ones showing courage. I’m just helping their stories reach more people.

You also start to sense when your work is resonating, based on how audiences react. It gives you hope. Change might not happen overnight, but I believe journalism helps lay the groundwork for bigger systemic shifts. Things can change quickly, you never know when that tipping point will come. Our role is to keep building awareness, making connections, and shining light where others aren’t looking.