The future of California's oil workers hangs in the balance as the state accelerates its shift toward renewable energy, leaving thousands in a state of uncertainty. But here's where it gets controversial: while environmental advocates celebrate this transition, the human cost—lost jobs and economic upheaval—is sparking intense debate. And this is the part most people miss: the workers themselves are caught in the crossfire, forced to navigate a rapidly changing landscape with little clarity on what comes next.
Three decades ago, Willie Cruz faced a similar crisis when the Southern California oil refinery he worked for abruptly shut down. Now 61 and living in Arizona, Cruz recalls the shock of losing his job at the Powerine Oil Company plant in Santa Fe Springs. Fearing further instability in the industry, he pivoted to respiratory therapy—a field he found meaningful, especially as an asthmatic. A federal job training program funded his education, and he’s since become a guiding light for his son, Wilfredo Cruz, who now faces the same uncertainty as the Phillips 66 refinery in Los Angeles prepares to close its doors.
Wilfredo, 37, has spent 12 years at the refinery, earning a base salary of $118,000 as a pipe fitter—a living wage that doesn’t require a college degree. But the job comes with its own risks. Every day, he showers immediately after work to protect his 2-year-old son from potential chemical exposure, and he never lets the toddler ride in his work car. Now, with the refinery’s closure looming, Wilfredo is enrolled in an online cybersecurity course, funded by a state program set to expire in a few years. “There’s not really a clear plan to help workers transition into new fields,” he says. “You feel kind of forgotten.”
California’s energy transition is no small feat. The state, once the third-largest crude oil producer in the nation in 2014, has slipped to eighth place in 2024. The closures of the Valero and Phillips 66 refineries alone will eliminate roughly 18% of California’s refining capacity, according to state regulators. These facilities produce jet fuel, gasoline, and diesel—critical components of the state’s energy infrastructure. Phillips 66 cites “market dynamics” as the reason for its closure, while Valero has announced plans to halt operations at its Benicia refinery, a move that will slash 13% of the city’s revenue, or $7.7 million annually.
But here’s the contentious part: California’s Democratic leaders are walking a tightrope between environmental goals and economic realities. Governor Gavin Newsom, who once vowed to “take on big oil,” recently signed legislation to expedite oil well permitting in the Central Valley and backed off a proposal to penalize oil companies for high profits. This inconsistent messaging has left workers like Wilfredo in limbo, unsure of what the future holds.
The numbers are staggering. Between 2018 and 2024, 46 oil refineries in California closed, and the state’s fossil fuel industry employs roughly 94,000 people. One study estimates that nearly 58,000 oil and gas workers could lose their jobs between 2021 and 2030, with 56% needing to find new careers. To address this, lawmakers created the Displaced Oil and Gas Worker Fund in 2022, allocating nearly $30 million for job training and placement. However, the funding is set to expire in 2027, and no agreement has been reached to extend it.
Here’s where opinions diverge: While environmental groups like the Asian Pacific Environmental Network advocate for a clear transition plan for workers, industry leaders like Jodie Muller of the Western States Petroleum Association argue that California’s climate policies are unnecessarily destroying high-paying blue-collar jobs. “The extremists fighting to close refineries should explain why they’re okay with eliminating some of the best jobs out there,” Muller stated. “We certainly are not.”
The debate raises critical questions: Can California balance its ambitious climate goals with the economic well-being of its workers? And who bears the responsibility for ensuring a just transition? As the state moves forward, the fate of workers like Wilfredo Cruz hangs in the balance, leaving us to wonder: Are we doing enough to support those left behind in the race for a greener future? Share your thoughts in the comments—this is a conversation we all need to have.
