LGEEPA Reform: Mitigating Risk in Environmental Impact Statements

Following the publication of the bill to amend the General Law of Ecological Balance and Environmental Protection (LGEEPA), it is worth taking a look back.

At the end of the 20th century, when the 1996 reform of the LGEEPA and its Environmental Impact Assessment (EIA) Regulations was being prepared, a powerful idea emerged: Environmental Impact Statements (Manifestaciones de Impacto Ambiental, MIA) could only be prepared by certified experts.

Beyond the technical discussion about what we mean by “expert,” that single word would have aligned the environmental regime with the logic of the Regulatory Law of Article 5 of the Constitution on the practice of professions (LR5C).

Those of us already engaged in Environmental Impact Assessment saw a historic opportunity. At last, the required specialization would be formally recognized. However, the EIA Regulations published in 2000 opted for the easy way out: “any person may submit a MIA.” The Executive Branch chose to regulate who may submit a document, not who may prepare a study that, in practice, defines the environmental viability of projects worth hundreds or thousands of millions of dollars. That technical evasion reduced professional responsibility to a mere filing procedure.

The argument used to avoid requiring experts was that such a requirement might infringe the right to freedom of association, as it would imply compulsory membership of a professional body. A quarter of a century later, we have a market saturated with “environmental consultants,” even though their academic background, professional registration or experience bears little relation to the technical and legal complexity of a MIA.

Today, we see MIAs that do not include the professional registration number (cédula) of the Technical Lead (responsable técnico, RT), or worse still, that include registration numbers which do not correspond to the RT’s name, nor to the profession stated. Presenting oneself as a biologist, engineer, architect or chemist without holding the corresponding qualification is usurpation of profession under the LR5C and the Federal Criminal Code.

From Judgement to 'Receipt'
To this we must add a dangerous misunderstanding that project proponents tend to overlook: treating the EIA as a procedure that is “fulfilled” with a filing receipt. It is increasingly common that, faced with delays in SEMARNAT’s decision‑making, investors, developers or tender departments press the consultant to obtain the filing receipt for the MIA as quickly as possible, merely to complete the requirements of a tender or financing process. The receipt becomes a ticket to participate, while the project’s viability is left for “later consideration”.

Therefore, the MIA ceases to be an environmental feasibility judgement and is transformed into an administrative voucher that unlocks internal processes, sustained by a study that is incomplete, methodologically weak or premature.

From a professional ethics standpoint, this is a technical fraud against the authority, against affected communities and against the proponent itself.

For proponents, this phenomenon entails at least three types of risk.

Legal risk: A MIA signed by someone without adequate training may be technically deficient, legally vulnerable and, in extreme scenarios, amount to misleading the authority, fully justifying refusal of the authorization.

Criminal and personal risk: The Federal Criminal Code provides for fines and imprisonment for false professionals, and liability does not end with them; directors, legal representatives and officials who have engaged or endorsed such advice may face serious scrutiny from authorities and financiers.

Reputational and ESG governance risk: In a context where ESG criteria are increasingly scrutinized, relying on fraudulent “consultants” undermines the credibility of sustainability reports, climate commitments and any related narrative.

Ethics, Field Surveys and the 'Best Available Information'
Over the past decade, the General Directorate for Forest and Soil Management (DGGFS) and, more recently, DGIRA, have required that both Justification Studies for change of forest land use and MIAs include representative flora and fauna surveys in at least two seasons of the year.

Nevertheless, MIAs based on a single survey season continue to be submitted, often at the insistence of tender managers or those seeking financing. The most serious aspect is that the RT signs a declaration, under penalty of perjury, that the best available information, techniques and methods were used. Instead of arguing, where possible, that a second survey is not required, the RT accepts a direct contradiction between what is declared and what was done.

The RT is not merely a “signatory;” they are the professional guarantor of the project’s environmental feasibility. When an RT advises “submit the MIA with incomplete information”, they are sabotaging environmental management itself: DGIRA detects the lack of information, issues a request for clarification and, by that time, the additional field survey ought to be ready.

The typical outcome is paradoxical: the supplementary information sometimes doubles the size of the original MIA, forcing SEMARNAT to extend the assessment period and diluting the priority of the file amid pressure from a backlog of pending decisions. The attempt to accelerate approval ends, precisely, in a longer and more uncertain procedure.

At this year’s Annual Conference of the International Association for Impact Assessment (IAIA) in Quebec, its CFO, Gary Baker, summed it up clearly: the consultant’s obligation is not to produce “better reports” in the abstract, but reports that are useful for better decision‑making. An incomplete MIA is a betrayal of the Precautionary Principle.

Transparency That Worked, and Was Then Lost
Between 2002 and 2007, DGIRA published annual summary tables of its decisions, including the project name; the procedure modality (Preventive Report, Specific MIA or Regional MIA); the type of resolution (approved, approved with conditions, refused, withdrawn, lapsed, transferred for lack of competence or not required); the name of the proponent; and the name and contact details of the RT.

Those tables allowed anyone with internet access to construct each consultant’s “scorecard”. Any proponent could see which firms had handled similar projects, how many approvals they had obtained, how many had been refused and in which sectors they specialized. That transparency went a long way toward explaining why one consultant charged more than another, taking into account track record, success rate, management of conditions and real specialization.

Today, those reports have disappeared, citing personal data protection as the reason for redacting names. Personal security concerns are understandable in the context of extortion in Mexico, but the side‑effect is that it is now impossible to distinguish, in practice, between a serious specialist and a “fraudulent professional” whose only skill is obtaining receipts.

All of this leaves us with uncomfortable questions:

1. As Technical Leads, are we really ashamed of signing a MIA?
2. Do extortion and insecurity justify hiding the RT’s identity?
3. Is it ethically and commercially acceptable to base multi‑million‑dollar investment decisions on MIAs that the RT knows do not meet the “best available information” standard?
4. Does a proponent seeking a return on investment want a consultant who tells them what they want to hear, or one who puts the true environmental feasibility on the table, even if that means re‑thinking the project?

From the perspective of proponents’ senior management, at least three lines of action are clear:

1. Raise the bar for selecting environmental consultants.
2. Recognize the power of a transparent MIA when facing opponents with weak arguments, now strengthened by an absurd censorship.
3. Favor consultants subject to codes of ethics and peer review, support public registers of EIA specialists and demand performance monitoring of Technical Leads.

In a context of high socio‑environmental conflict, the technical quality and professional integrity behind a MIA are as critical a risk‑management asset as an insurance policy or a financial audit.

If the law allows “any person” to submit a MIA, the omission of responsibility for who prepares it rests directly with the proponent. The real question is whether, as a society, we want an effective Environmental Impact Assessment procedure, or whether we will continue with a self‑destructive simulation.