Eva Lighthiser, a 20-year-old college student from Montana, has emerged as the lead plaintiff in a youth-led constitutional lawsuit challenging executive actions by U.S. President Donald Trump that support expanded fossil fuel development.

The case, Lighthiser v Trump, was filed by 23 young Americans who argue that federal policies promoting fossil fuel extraction and production violate constitutional protections by worsening climate-related harms affecting younger generations. The lawsuit was dismissed by a federal court last year, but the plaintiffs appeared before the ninth circuit court of appeals in Portland, Oregon, in April seeking reinstatement.

Lighthiser, who studies in Colorado and is considering a major in environmental studies, said balancing university life with high-profile litigation has altered the course of her early adulthood.“I said, ‘Hey, I’ve got to go to bed, I’m flying out to Portland tomorrow,’” she recalled while describing a recent college gathering. “Then follow-up questions get raised. I’m like, ‘Well, it’s a lot to explain.

”Outside the appeals court, Lighthiser accused the federal government of prioritizing fossil fuel development despite growing evidence of climate-related damage.“We are challenging this administration for sacrificing the lives of myself and my fellow plaintiffs by expanding fossil fuels for the sake of power,” she said during remarks delivered outside the courthouse.

The case reflects the growing prominence of youth-led climate litigation in the United States, where environmental groups increasingly seek constitutional arguments to challenge government policies tied to fossil fuel production. Legal advocates argue that climate change threatens rights relating to health, safety and environmental protections, while critics say courts are not equipped to direct national energy policy.

Lighthiser grew up in Livingston, Montana, a town surrounded by mountain ranges and river systems that have become central to her environmental activism. Her parents met while hiking, and she spent much of her childhood camping, climbing and traveling through national parks. During her first year of high school, she was homeschooled while traveling with her family across the western United States.

Her involvement in climate litigation began in 2020 after learning about Our Children’s Trust, a nonprofit legal organization focused on youth climate cases. She later joined Held v Montana, a constitutional challenge alleging that state policies favoring fossil fuels violated protections in Montana’s constitution guaranteeing a “clean and healthful environment.”Filed on Lighthiser’s 14th birthday, the Montana lawsuit became one of the first youth climate cases in the United States to proceed to trial.

During testimony, she described growing fears about climate-related environmental instability affecting the state she called home.“My future feels uncertain,” she said during the proceedings.In 2023, the court ruled in favor of the youth plaintiffs in what was widely regarded as a landmark climate decision.

The plaintiffs later argued that Montana lawmakers enacted additional legislation conflicting with the court’s findings, prompting continued legal disputes over implementation and enforcement.Lighthiser said discussions about a federal challenge accelerated after the start of Trump’s second administration in 2025.

According to Julia Olson, the organization quickly identified the possibility of a broader constitutional case focused on federal executive actions supporting fossil fuel expansion.“It became clear early in the second Trump administration that a federal case was something to pursue,” Olson said.

Lighthiser said she was contacted while preparing for an overnight cycling trip near Montana’s Paradise Valley and asked whether she would consider becoming the lead plaintiff.“The lawsuit also would be called Lighthiser v Trump,” she said. “That was really a moment when it clicked.

My name against his name.”Montana occupies a complex position in the U.S. environmental debate. The state’s economy has long depended on natural resource extraction industries, including mining and coal production, while simultaneously cultivating a strong outdoor conservation culture. Critics have described the state as a “resource colony” whose raw materials historically benefited outside commercial interests.

Lighthiser said environmental concerns often transcend political divisions in Montana, where many residents identify closely with local ecosystems regardless of party affiliation. She pointed to polling conducted in April indicating that a large majority of residents considered conservation issues important when evaluating elected officials.

“There’s a lot of people who may not believe in climate change or be resistant to conversion to renewables,” she said. “But there’s also a sense that everyone knows how special this place is.”Livingston, located near the Yellowstone River and framed by the Gallatin and Absaroka mountain ranges, has experienced multiple environmental disruptions in recent years.

Coal trains regularly pass through the area, dispersing coal dust, while warming river conditions contributed to a parasite outbreak that killed large numbers of fish in 2016.Flooding has had an especially direct impact on Lighthiser’s family. In 2018, the Shields River overflowed near the family’s former home, damaging infrastructure and forcing major transportation detours.

Four years later, severe flooding along the Yellowstone River caused widespread destruction across southern Montana, resulting in an estimated $128 million in damages.Lighthiser said those events deepened her sense of urgency while also reinforcing the importance of community response efforts.“In the following weeks, I remember there were a lot of efforts to clean up homes and help each other out,” she said.

“I thought that was a really special thing.”Other plaintiffs in the federal lawsuit said Lighthiser’s public role has encouraged younger activists to participate. Jorja McCormick, a 17-year-old co-plaintiff from Livingston, said hearing Lighthiser speak publicly made the legal process appear more accessible.“I definitely look up to the older plaintiffs like Eva,” McCormick said.Lighthiser’s parents have expressed both pride and concern over the case’s visibility.

Her mother, Erica, said the family understood the political sensitivity attached to directly challenging a sitting president in federal court.“Look, it’s our last name next to the president’s last name,” she said.Legal scholars remain divided over the long-term implications of such cases.

Pat Parenteau, an environmental law expert at Vermont Law School who has supported youth climate litigation efforts, warned that broad constitutional challenges may face substantial resistance from federal courts.“The courts are not able to reform the energy system of the United States,” Parenteau said.

“They’re not going to entertain requests for them to do that.”When dismissing the case last year, Montana district judge Dana Christensen described the plaintiffs’ requests as “unworkable” and beyond the jurisdiction of the court, though he said the dismissal came “reluctantly.”Parenteau said an unfavorable ruling from higher courts, particularly the U.S. Supreme Court, could establish precedents limiting future environmental litigation.

“You’re playing with fire with courts nowadays,” he said. “I believe in their cause, because what they’re arguing is what the law ought to be, but it’s not what the law is.”Olson rejected suggestions that ambitious constitutional climate arguments should be avoided because of potential legal setbacks.

She compared the strategy to earlier civil rights litigation efforts that initially faced skepticism before reshaping U.S. law.“The answer has never been to step back from the courthouse door,” Olson said. “Children are being harmed right now.”

Lighthiser said she believes the legal risks are outweighed by the need to challenge policies that contribute to climate-related damage affecting younger generations.

“There are risks,” she said. “But if you never take risks, nothing good happens.”

The proposed 650-mile pipeline, often referred to by critics as “Keystone Light” because of its similarities to the scrapped Keystone XL line, would transport up to 550,000 barrels of crude oil per day from Saskatchewan into northeastern Montana before extending through Montana and Wyoming to connect with existing U.S. pipeline infrastructure.

Trump signed the permit in the Oval Office, authorizing the line to cross the U.S.-Canada border and allowing the transport of crude oil as well as petroleum products including gasoline, diesel, kerosene and liquefied petroleum gas.“Slightly different from the last administration. They wouldn’t sign a pipeline deal.

And we have pipelines going up,” Trump said after approving the project.At full capacity, the pipeline would carry roughly two-thirds the volume planned for Keystone XL, which was partially constructed before former President Joe Biden revoked its permit in January 2021 on his first day in office, citing climate concerns.

Trump had approved Keystone XL during his first term, but the project became a flashpoint in North American energy politics after Biden’s reversal angered Canadian officials and Alberta’s provincial government, which had invested more than $1 billion in the venture.

Unlike Keystone XL, the Bridger Pipeline Expansion would not cross Native American reservations, a key point of contention in past pipeline disputes. Company officials said more than 70% of the route would be built within existing pipeline corridors and about 80% would cross private land.

Bridger Pipeline LLC said the line would transport several grades of crude, including oil from Canada’s oil sands region, for refining or export in the United States.The project still requires additional state and federal environmental approvals before construction can begin. Company officials said they expect construction to start in 2027, with completion targeted for late 2028 or early 2029, potentially before Trump leaves office in January 2029.

Environmental groups have already signaled opposition, citing the risk of spills and the broader climate implications of expanding fossil fuel infrastructure.“The biggest concern we see right now is the concern inherent in all pipeline projects which is the risk of spills,” said Jenny Harbine, an attorney with environmental law group Earthjustice.

“Pipelines rupture and leak. It’s just a fact of pipelines.”Groups opposing the project include the Montana Environmental Information Center and WildEarth Guardians.Bridger Pipeline and subsidiaries of parent company True Companies have faced scrutiny over previous major spills, including more than 50,000 gallons of crude oil released into Montana’s Yellowstone River in 2015, contaminating a city’s drinking water supply, and a 2016 North Dakota spill of more than 600,000 gallons that affected the Little Missouri River and a tributary.

Subsidiaries of True Companies later agreed to pay a $12.5 million civil penalty to settle a federal lawsuit related to the Montana and North Dakota incidents. A separate 45,000-gallon diesel spill occurred in Wyoming in 2022.Company spokesperson Bill Salvin said Bridger has since introduced an AI-based leak detection system designed to accelerate incident response and plans to place pipeline sections 30 to 40 feet beneath major rivers including the Yellowstone and Missouri to reduce spill risks.

“We designed the pipeline with integrity and safety in mind,” Salvin said, adding that emergency response systems were in place in the event of a leak.Casper, Wyoming-based Bridger operates more than 3,700 miles of gathering and transmission pipelines across North Dakota, Montana and Wyoming.

The approval marks another step in Trump’s broader effort to expand domestic and cross-border fossil fuel infrastructure as part of his second-term energy agenda, reversing several climate-focused restrictions imposed under Biden.