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William Tong showed up to a January 21 environmental summit and somehow managed to make it about William Tong. That takes talent. Or ego. Or a level of self-regard so advanced it deserves its own renewable energy credit.
If the goal of the Connecticut League of Conservation Voters (CTLCV) summit was to talk about climate policy, Tong treated it like a “hey look at me” ego broadcast. What he delivered instead was a bloated campaign monologue where the environment was just a prop and the real message was: ladies and gentlemen, please admire me. The planet wasn’t the star. AG-enda Tong was.
He opened the way all great climate speeches apparently should: by reminding everyone how long he’s been in office. Not what Connecticut’s environment actually faces. Not what’s broken. Not what’s urgent. Just a resume flex. Because when the planet is supposedly on fire, the first thing people really need is a reminder of how long you’ve been cashing a government paycheck.
Then came the melodrama:
“This is an unprecedented attack… on our climate, our environment, our natural resources.”
Unprecedented, according to whom, and based on what? He never says. No policy cited. No statute named. No ruling identified. No timeline offered. Just a foggy declaration designed to sound catastrophic while carefully avoiding anything that could be checked, challenged, or understood. “Unprecedented” becomes a magic word that shuts down thinking. Say it, let the room gasp, and move on before anyone asks what actually changed, what Connecticut lost, or what specific authority is at risk.
From there, Tong unleashed the standard progressive bingo card: Trump, the EPA, Chevron, executive orders, Exxon, wind power, PFAS. It sounded impressive if you weren’t listening. A fast, breathless flood of buzzwords with no explanation.
And speaking of breathless, for a man supposedly worried about emissions, Tong managed to personally spike the room’s carbon footprint. He was such a blowhard you half expected the Department of Energy and Environmental Protection to issue an air-quality alert. Forget gas cars. The largest source of CO₂ in the state was standing at the podium.
If the summit had been serious about reducing emissions, the quickest solution would’ve been to turn off his microphone.
Then came the campaign rally moment:
“Are you with me in this fight?”
No, actually. People were there to learn about environmental policy. They weren’t there to join the Church of Saint William.
At this point, it was already obvious he had spent more time talking about himself and his battles than about climate. But then he went all in:
“I am not afraid.”
“I am not afraid.”
“I am not afraid.”
Three times. Any politician who has to repeat that line isn’t reassuring the audience. He’s reassuring himself.
Then the speech took a hard turn into his autobiography:
“I am not afraid because I’m standing here on the former G Fox… where I came as a kid to see Santa Claus.”
Because nothing explains Connecticut’s environmental strategy like a childhood department store memory.
Then:
“My parents and grandparents ran for their lives… from the Japanese, from the communists, from homelessness, from hunger, from poverty.”
And just like that, the climate summit became a personal memoir. The environment vanished completely. We learned more about Tong’s family history than about any environmental enforcement plan Connecticut actually has.
By the end, you knew:
What you did not know:
AG-enda Tong talks about climate the way narcissists talk about charity: as proof of their own virtue. Every issue bends toward him. Every legal action becomes a chapter in his personal legend. Every summit becomes a stage.
Environmental policy is supposed to be serious. It’s expensive. It’s legally fragile. It involves tradeoffs, uncertainty, and consequences.
Instead, Connecticut got ten minutes of hot air, delivered by a man who thought an environmental summit was just another stop on his personal self-promotion tour.
If Tong had spent half as much time explaining climate realities as he did congratulating himself for being fearless, the event might have actually served its purpose.
But then again, it wouldn’t have starred him.
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