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The Science Based Targets initiative released long-awaited guidance that doesn’t exactly clarify matters.
The carbon removal industry is in a rut.
Last year, companies with climate targets purchased about 8 million tons of future carbon removal — an impressive 78% increase from the year prior, according to the sales tracking site CDR.fyi. And yet 80% of those purchases were made by the same three entities — Microsoft, Google, and Frontier — that have been more or less singlehandedly supporting the industry since its inception. The number of new buyers entering the market declined by 18%.
“Demand is the greatest existential threat for the carbon removal industry,” Giana Amador, the executive director of the Carbon Removal Alliance, an industry group, told me. “These companies are developing technologies that don’t really have a natural customer. There are corporates who are purchasing carbon removal as part of their sustainability strategies, but buyers at scale are few and far between.”
That was all set to change when the Science Based Targets initiative, a nonprofit authority on best practices for corporate sustainability, released its revised Net Zero Standard — or at least that was the hope. The influential group had not previously given companies any direction as to whether they should be buying carbon removal in the near-term, and was widely expected to get more explicit about the need to do so. But while SBTi’s new draft standard, which was finally released on Tuesday, takes a step in that direction, it may not go far enough to make a difference.
As the name implied, SBTi’s previous Net Zero Standard assumed that companies would have to purchase carbon removal eventually — “net-zero emissions” means pulling carbon out of the atmosphere to offset emissions that can’t be eliminated at the source. The standard was designed to align companies with the Paris Agreement goal of limiting global warming to as close to 1.5 degrees Celsius as possible, and it expected companies to hit net-zero by 2050. But it didn’t say anything about what companies should do with regards to carbon removal between now and then.
As a result, many companies have interpreted that as “they shouldn’t or don’t have to buy carbon removal credits until 2049,” Lukas May, the chief commercial officer and head of policy at Isometric, a carbon removal registry, told me. “And potentially it’s even a bad thing if they did it before then because it might be considered a distraction from their decarbonization. And they certainly don’t get any credit for it from SBTi.”
The problem is that it may not be possible to remove the required amount of carbon from the atmosphere in 2049 if more companies don’t start paying for it now. Startups need demand to finance first-of-a-kind projects, learn from their mistakes, discover efficiencies, and scale. While the U.S. government has some funding available, it’s not enough.
Amador said she’s had conversations with potential carbon removal buyers who have been waiting on the sidelines, in part to see what SBTi would say. They are deterred by the cost, but they also want to make sure that if they do jump in, their investment will be viewed by this third-party authority as meaningful so that they avoid accusations of greenwashing. “I think there are a lot of companies who need to know that this is a core component of what counts as their net zero strategy, and they’re holding off on buying until they have greater clarity,” Amador told me.
But SBTi is in a precarious position. Some companies are starting to back away from their climate plans. Big tech, which once led the pack on climate, is now focused on developing AI and building data centers at the expense of increased emissions. Environmental, social, and governance strategies, or ESG, are now often viewed as more of a liability by investors than a selling point — not to mention a political risk in the U.S. under the Trump administration. Top corporate supporters of the American Is All In coalition, a group committed to upholding the Paris Agreement, recently refused to sign a letter reiterating that commitment. If SBTi’s new Net Zero Standard is viewed as too onerous or expensive to comply with, it’s easy to imagine companies deciding to walk away from it altogether.
In the proposal published Tuesday, SBTi proceeded with caution. In the section on carbon removal, it described several potential approaches of varying ambition. The first was to require that companies begin procuring carbon removal in 2030, starting with enough to offset just 5% of what they expect their residual emissions will be in 2050, and ramping up over time. The second was for companies to set their own voluntary near-term carbon removal targets and receive extra “recognition” from SBTi for doing so. The third approach would give companies more flexibility either to purchase carbon removal beginning in 2030, or to get ahead of schedule on their emission reductions, or to do some combination of the two.
It’s normal in draft proposals to see options with varying levels of ambition. But in this case, it’s not clear that even the first option is an ambitious goal. That’s because it would only apply to companies’ “Scope 1” emissions, the emissions a company has direct control over. Most of the companies that have sought out SBTi’s stamp of approval in the past have very small Scope 1 emissions. Take Apple, for example: Less than 1% of its emissions are Scope 1. The vast majority of its carbon footprint comes from the third parties that produce and ship its products and customers using the products — also known as “Scope 3” emissions.
Robert Hoglund, a carbon removal advisor who co-founded CDR.fyi, published a newsletter on Tuesday, in which he argued that the companies with significant Scope 1 emissions, such as those in aviation, shipping, heavy industry, and mining, have mostly ignored SBTi so far, and regardless, are less able to pay for carbon removal than companies further downstream. By his analysis, among the top 200 companies in the world, the 25 biggest Scope 1 emitters made annual average profits of $85 for every ton of carbon they released across all Scopes. The remaining companies made an average of $32,000.
“The downstream companies, especially in high-profit, low-emission sectors like finance, insurance, and tech, are needed to fund CDR efforts,” he wrote. “If only Scope 1 emissions are required to set interim targets for, then the durable CDR sector will likely fail to scale fast enough in the coming decade. This would risk giving us a lost decade ahead, jeopardising our ability to reach net zero.”
SBTi proposed several other important updates to the Net Zero Standard. Companies buying carbon removal may have to use a “like for like” approach, for instance, purchasing removal services that are as durable as the specific greenhouse gas they release in the atmosphere. In other words, carbon emissions would have to be offset with removals that last a thousand years, while nitrous oxide emissions could be offset with shorter-term removals. The group also recommended a deadline of 2040 for companies to move to low-carbon electricity.
Feedback on the draft is due by June 1, after which the group’s technical department and expert working groups will refine it. There may be another round of public consultation before a final draft goes to SBTi’s board for approval, the group said. It expects companies to begin using the new standard to refine their targets in 2027.
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Canada’s carbon tax was supposed to be different. Unlike the proposed cap-and-trade scheme in the United States or the European Union’s carbon trading system, Canada’s program was not a kitty for green energy subsidies. The tax would be split into two pieces: a charge on large industrial emitters, largely raised through provincial systems where more intensive emitters buy credits from those that emit less, and a tax on consumers that took the form of a charge on fuels, including gasoline. And the best part: The bulk of the revenue raised by the tax would be returned to provinces and individual taxpayers.
Five years after it was put in place, however, Canada’s new Liberal prime minister, Mark Carney, scrapped the consumer half of the tax as one of his first acts in office. In doing so, he was trying to cut off a potent line of attack from the opposition Conservative party, whose leader, Pierre Poilievre, has tried to center upcoming national elections on the issue. Polling from earlier this year showed that overall support had fallen from 56% in 2021 to 45% today, while Liberal support for the tax had fallen even further, from 83% to 70%.
This was despite reams of outside and official data showing that most Canadians benefited from the tax, at least in terms of (Canadian) dollars paid compared to those received in rebates. Per Canada’s Parliamentary Budget Officer, Ontario households in the median quintile (i.e. between the 40th and 60th percentile) came out $117 ahead on average this year. And although the tax did have a slight negative effect on economic growth of 0.6%, according to PBO estimates, that study didn’t take into account the value of lower greenhouse gas emissions.
If a carbon tax and dividend can’t work even in Canada, it appears to confirm a distressing truth for climate activists — that even if people are concerned about climate change, they don’t want to pay very much to fix it.
Popular discontent with the tax — especially among Conservative voters — picked up dramatically in 2022, alongside rising gas prices. The thinking goes, “if the price of gas goes up, it’s the carbon tax,” Kathryn Harrison, a professor of political science at the University of British Columbia, told me. But while it’s true that the carbon tax makes gas more expensive, the tax is a fixed charge, meaning that any big jump in gas prices cannot possibly be its fault. Then again, when gas prices are already high, anything extra can feel especially noxious.
“People hate the idea of a tax,” Harrison said. “When they know there’s a tax, they perceive the impact as much greater than it has been.”
There’s also a strong political element to how people feel about a carbon tax. Along with fellow researchers Matto Mildenberger, Erick Lachapelle, and Isabelle Stadelmann-Steffen, Harrison examined rebate programs in Switzerland and Canada for a 2022 paper published in Nature Climate Change, and found that the simple matter of dollars (or francs) and cents could not overcome the carbon tax’s well-established political identity. In Canada, Conservative voters tended to underestimate the rebate’s size more than Liberals did.
Carney is in some sense an odd figure to ditch carbon pricing. Before his leadership campaign, he was a prominent figure in climate finance, heading up climate transition investing at Brookfield Asset Management, a huge renewable investor and developer, and was the co-chair of the Glasgow Financial Alliance for Net Zero, a financial institution decarbonization group. Ideally Carney told a BBC interviewer at the 2021 COP26 Summit in Glasgow, “we would have a global carbon price.” And though that would have to vary depending on a company’s relative economic position, “everyone should try to have a price on carbon,” he said.
In canceling the tax on Friday, however, Carney said that it had become “too divisive” and was “not working,” echoing language from his leadership campaign.
The cancellation comes as the federal fuel charge was set to rise 3.3 cents per liter, from 14.3 cents to 17.6 cents. During his party leadership campaign, Carney proposed that the fuel charge be replaced with “a system of incentives to reward Canadians for making greener choices, such as purchasing an energy efficient appliance, electric vehicle, or improved home insulation.” Sound familiar?
So where does this leave carbon tax proponents? If one can’t survive in Canada, where can it?
Catherine Wolfram, an economist at MIT and former Biden Treasury official, is, like many economists, a supporter of carbon pricing. She told me that “too many people are dancing on the grave of carbon taxing writ large,” noting that the industrial side of Canada’s carbon tax is still active. And so If someone came to her for advice on a carbon tax, she would tell them to “start with something very far upstream. Start with industry. Don’t touch retail gasoline until more substitutes are available to consumers.”
She also pointed out that the industrial side of the tax was still alive in Canada, and Carney’s decarbonize your life-style proposal could address individual carbon emissions. But wouldn’t this just be the Inflation Reduction Act all over again, I asked her?
No, she said, because Canada still, for now at least, has a tax on industrial emitters.
“If we could get the U.S. to where Canada is now, I would be delighted,” she said.
On environmental science, violent tornadoes, and more bad news for Tesla
Current conditions: Flash flooding in southern Spain forced evacuations • Tropical Storm Jude displaced thousands of people in Madagascar, Malawi, and Mozambique • Huge swathes of Texas, Oklahoma, Kansas, and Missouri are under red flag warnings today as strong winds bring another day of extreme fire weather to the region.
The Environmental Protection Agency reportedly plans to eliminate a department that conducts essential research and informs environmental policy. The Office of Research and Development is the agency’s largest department and has studied everything from fine particle pollution in the air to the health risks of fracking and forever chemicals. Its closure would cut up to 1,155 research jobs and “serve the Trump administration’s dual goals of reducing the size of government while potentially easing the regulation of the chemical and fossil fuel industries,” as The New York Times put it.
The move may also face legal hurdles. Rep. Zoe Lofgren of California, the top Democrat on the House science committee, said the office was created by congressional statute and cannot just be dissolved. She added that gutting the department would prevent the EPA from fulfilling its legal responsibilities to use cutting-edge science to shape policy. “Every decision EPA makes must be in furtherance of protecting human health and the environment, and that just can’t happen if you gut EPA science,” Lofgren said in a statement.
In other EPA news, the agency failed to meet a judge’s Monday deadline to provide clear and direct evidence of waste, fraud, or abuse by nonprofit groups approved for $20 billion in climate grants under the Inflation Reduction Act’s Greenhouse Gas Reduction Fund, which Administrator Lee Zeldin has been attempting to terminate. Instead, the agency pointed to “unidentified media reports” and an undercover video of an EPA staffer discussing the Biden administration’s rush to get federal grants out the door before the Trump administration took over. Zeldin first froze the funds and then canceled the loans entirely, prompting lawsuits from several of the grantees.
The Department of Energy yesterday released $57 million to Holtec to help restore and restart carbon-free power generation at the Palisades Nuclear Plant in Michigan, which shuttered in 2022. This is the second disbursement, following the January release of $38 million (the total loan guarantee is for up to $1.52 billion). The loan was approved during the Biden administration under the Inflation Reduction Act’s Energy Infrastructure Reinvestment program, though the Trump administration was quick to take credit. “Today’s action is yet another step toward advancing President Trump’s commitment to increase domestic energy production, bolster our security, and lower costs for the American people,” Energy Secretary Chris Wright said in a release that avoids any mention of the words “clean” or “carbon” or “emissions.” So long as Holtec can get the necessary permits, the Palisades facility will be the first commercial nuclear reactor in the U.S. to restart, and will “support or retain” 600 jobs and provide 800 megawatts of power in Michigan.
The deadly storm system that ripped across the South and Midwest over the weekend spawned at least two EF4 tornadoes in Arkansas, according to the National Weather Service. These are some of the most violent tornadoes, representing the second-highest level on the Enhanced Fujita scale used to rate tornado strength, with wind speeds from 166 to 200 miles per hour EF4s are also the rarest tornadoes, accounting for just 0.5% of all tornadoes in the U.S. between 2000 and 2022. Early damage surveys indicate one tornado ran for an hour, crossing 46 miles through two counties, with winds up to 170 miles per hour; another tornado had a path of 14.5 miles, a max width of one mile, and wind speeds reaching 190 miles per hour. Luckily no one seems to have been killed in these two twisters, though there were several injuries. But the larger tornado outbreak left at least 24 people dead and destroyed hundreds of homes across 12 states.
Trade tensions between Canada and the U.S. have prompted Toronto’s mayor to stop offering drivers financial incentives to buy Tesla vehicles for ride shares or taxis. “There are other electric cars they could purchase,” said Mayor Olivia Chow. “If you want to buy a Tesla, go ahead, but don’t count on taxpayer money to subsidize it.” She toldReuters the move was a direct response to Tesla CEO Elon Musk’s involvement with the Trump administration.
Meanwhile, insurance experts warn that an increase in acts of vandalism targeting Teslas may prompt insurers to hike rates for the vehicles. “Tesla owners better buckle up,” wrote Rob Stumpf at InsideEVs. “Things could get worse before they get better — at least while Musk lives a double-life as part-time CEO and part-time head of state.”
And finally, car listings data suggests prices for used Teslas are falling three times faster than the used car market overall. “So much for Tesla vehicles becoming ‘appreciating assets,’” wrote Fred Lambert at Electrek.
A German court will hear testimony this week in a longstanding climate lawsuit that could hold major greenhouse gas polluters financially responsible for their contributions to climate change. The case was filed in 2015 by a Peruvian farmer named Saúl Luciano Lliuya, who argues that German multinational energy giant RWE is partly to blame for rising flood risks in his village of Huaraz due to a melting glacier. He wants the company to pay for flood prevention measures. In 2022, court judges flew from Germany to the Peruvian Andes to observe the melting glacier and collect evidence for the case, “a global first for any climate case,” The Washington Postreported at the time. The report also noted that if the lawsuit succeeded, “major polluters anywhere may be liable for the increasingly disastrous consequences of greenhouse gas emissions.”
A new study finds that beef from grass-fed cattle does not have a lower carbon footprint than beef from cattle fed grains and corn. “I have a hard time imagining … a situation in which it will prove environmentally, genuinely wise, genuinely beneficial, to raise beef,” said study author Gidon Eshel, a research professor of environmental physics at Bard College.
Job and funding cuts to federal emergency programs have the nation’s tsunami response experts, shall we say, concerned.
There is never a good time for an earthquake. But as President Donald Trump and his government efficiency guru, Elon Musk, take a buzzsaw to the federal bureaucracy, they risk discovering whether there is such a thing as an especially bad time.
The 700-mile Cascadia Subduction Zone runs off the Pacific coast from southern British Columbia to northern California, and has been stuck for approximately the past three centuries. When the oceanic Juan de Fuca plate finally slips free to slide beneath the North American plate, it will cause what is ominously referred to as the Big One: a megathrust earthquake expected to be “one of the worst natural disasters” in the continent’s history. Scientists put the odds of it happening in the next 50 years at around 37%, with an upper threshold of a 9.0 magnitude earthquake or possibly even higher. As the Pacific Northwest’s former FEMA director once famously (albeit somewhat hyperbolically) told The New Yorker, when the Big One hits, “Our operating assumption is that everything west of Interstate 5 will be toast.”
Of particular concern for the low-lying Washington and Oregon coasts is that the earthquake could cause a tsunami, which in places could reach more than 100 feet high. While the United States Geological Survey monitors earthquake activity in the U.S., tsunamis are the domain of the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration, which is undergoing heavy staffing cuts courtesy of the Trump administration. The U.S. tsunami program — which includes staff at the National Weather Service and the two U.S. Tsunami Warning Centers in Alaska and Hawaii — comprises only about 50 people. So far, at least three scientists from the Warning Centers have been terminated, along with the director of the tsunami program, with more layoffs expected in the coming days.
“Tsunami is about the worst thing that can happen to a coastline,” Carrie Garrison-Laney, a tsunami hazards specialist at the University of Washington’s Sea Grant program who liaises with NOAA partners, told me. She added, “I’m concerned about the impact on public safety.”
Indeed, the layoffs add another layer of strain on a system that is already in transition. The National Tsunami Warning Center, in Palmer, Alaska, is set up to issue warnings to the entire West Coast, while the Pacific Tsunami Warning Center, in Hawaii’s Pearl Harbor, covers the Hawaiian Islands, the Pacific territories of Guam and American Samoa, and the Caribbean. Though the warning centers are intended to serve as backups for each other in the case of a technical glitch or disaster that knocks one of them out, they use two different, incompatible software models from the 1990s. “The current systems in place are not good,” one Washington State-based emergency manager told me.
About a year and a half ago, the Tsunami Warning Center began a $2 million unification project to update the technologies and merge the platforms onto a shared system. That project is not expected to be completed until later this year, and many in the tsunami and emergency management worlds are concerned that it could get mothballed as the Trump administration continues to deplete NOAA staff and funding. “The loss of technical personnel may delay that work,” a representative from Oregon’s Department of Emergency Management confirmed to me in a statement.
That might not be an issue for coordinating an emergency response in the short term, but the longer it’s put off the greater the risk to people living in tsunami zones. “If we’re not on the cutting edge of understanding and being able to warn people about a tsunami as it’s happening, then the greater likelihood we have of something going wrong,” Daniel Eungard, a tsunami hazards geologist at the Washington State Department of Natural Resources, told me. “Then you’re looking at more casualties or more damage.”
Even worse, NOAA’s Tsunami programs were already severely understaffed before the layoffs began. The Pacific Tsunami Warning Center in Hawaii, in particular, has struggled to attract people who are willing to live on a government salary in one of the most expensive parts of the country.
Earthquakes are no-notice events, meaning they can hit with no more than a few seconds of warning. Tsunamis, as a result, don’t follow a nine-to-five schedule; the centers need to be staffed around the clock every day of the year. The Tsunami Warning Center teams were already working overtime before the added strain of Trump’s staffing cuts. Add more layoffs on top of that, and an already-small staff in charge of sending life-saving alerts faces a real risk of burnout. Oregon’s OEM also stressed that in no-notice events, quick and accurate information is imperative. Whether the NOAA layoffs will impact the quality of the warning centers’ service isn’t yet clear. (In a statement provided to Oregon’s OEM and Heatmap, the National Weather Service said that it doesn’t discuss internal personnel and management matters, but that “NOAA remains dedicated to its mission, providing timely information, research, and resources that serve the American public.”)
Though planning, alerts, emergency responses, and public messaging — including evacuation maps, sirens, and signage — for tsunami disasters are primarily done at the level of states and territories, they’re almost entirely funded through the National Tsunami Hazard Mitigation Program. Even before Trump took office, states had unsuccessfully fought back against cuts to the program — ironically, to pay for the software integration project — which reduced grants for some states and territories by up to 50%.
The tsunami experts I spoke with were uniformly alarmed by the short-sightedness of the funding cuts, a situation they don’t expect to improve under the Trump administration. “We’ve been very fortunate that we’ve had very few events of significant size and damage here, and hopefully that will stay that way,” Eungard, the tsunami hazards geologist, said. “But the likelihood is that as time continues, one such event will happen.”
NOAA, of course, isn’t the only agency in turbulence right now. The Federal Emergency Management Agency, which would be tapped to respond to a catastrophic earthquake and tsunami on the West Coast, is in similar disarray. “Nobody should feel particularly assured that FEMA is coming to their assistance in your time of need," Rob Moore, a senior policy analyst with the Natural Resources Defense Council, recently told NPR. One emergency management official agreed to speak with me only off the record; when I asked whether they felt like FEMA could be counted on in the case of a near-future disaster, they scoffed. (For the time being, the USGS seems to have survived some of the probationary cuts, though its funding is also on the chopping block.)
The situation at NOAA should be a major concern for everyone who lives in a coastal region, whether it’s American Samoa, Alaska, or the Oregon Coast. An earthquake is a no-notice event for a reason; it doesn’t wait on politics, personnel, or outdated technologies to be updated, and it can strike at any time.
But for as long as the Big One holds off, Garrison-Laney, the specialist at Sea Grant, said her NOAA colleagues are in her thoughts. “It’s a group of people who work really hard and do really great work,” she told me. “There’s nothing wasteful about the work that they’re doing.”