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The unsung hero of the energy transition needs a little help.

Transformers are the unsung heroes of the energy transition. These bulky devices come in a range of forms, from canisters mounted on distribution lines to garage-sized industrial units at substations and metal boxes on concrete pads outside apartment buildings. But regardless of form, they all serve a single essential purpose: adjusting voltage — either up, which is more efficient for long-distance transmission, or down for safe delivery to end users.
“If you’re getting an EV charging station, you need this equipment. If you’re building a large industrial facility that uses electricity to run the process, you need this equipment. Solar, battery storage plants, and wind energy projects need these. Data centers need these,” Anirudh Reddy, CEO of the power grid equipment startup Ayr Energy, told me. “It’s omnipresent.”
But ever since Covid scrambled global supply chains, the world has been staring down a severe transformer shortage. Even as economywide electrification accelerated, with rising electric vehicle adoption and rapid renewables deployment, the system failed to recover. Lead times for high-voltage transformers can now exceed two, three, even four years, raising costs and slowing the deployment of renewables and electrification projects.
While many of the big traditional players like Hitachi, Siemens Energy, and GE Vernova are still working to expand production, there’s now a group of startups looking to address the issue from other angles.
Reddy’s company, Ayr, is tackling it head on by standardizing transformer component designs and tapping underutilized manufacturing capacity in India to cut delivery times from years to months. Then there’s the growing field of startups that includes DG Matrix, Heron Power, and Amperesand, which are commercializing solid-state transformers for powering data centers, charging EVs, and solar and storage projects. This novel tech could offer an appealing replacement for today’s low- and medium-voltage transformers, as it provides grid services beyond just passive voltage conversions in a more efficient, compact package.
Right now, the most acute bottleneck and longest lead times are for high-voltage transformers, which is where Ayr sees the largest opportunity. These units step up a power plant’s output to transmission-level voltage for long-distance delivery, before stepping it back down to medium voltage at substations. These transformers can be the size of garages or small houses. Even when supply chains were functioning normally, they still took around a year to manufacture.
To return to that timetable, Ayr is taking its cues from automotive companies, which Reddy told me rely on standardized components throughout most of the manufacturing process and defer vehicle customization — think special features, finishes, and trims — until the final stages. When applied to transformers, this means equipment that is designed “such that you can address specification for a variety of projects and a variety of customers with the same architecture,” Reddy told me, allowing the company to shorten the time from initial customer engagement to final product delivery.
It all raises the question, why haven’t these equipment manufacturers been building more standardized transformers all along? Reddy blames it on a fundamental disconnect between transformer manufacturers and project developers. “That dialog never really happened. It was a very linear information flow,” he told me, with customers typically submitting bespoke specifications at the outset. That forced manufactures to build around these requirements from day one, making the whole supply chain and manufacturing process needlessly customized and complex.
But many of those unique design elements aren’t really necessary, Reddy said. Ayr often asks developers to tweak their specifications to align with a standardized model, which he told me yields no difference in overall project performance. That lets Ayr place orders with its Indian manufacturing partners in advance based on expected demand.
Surplus capacity in India is key to this business model, of course. Unlike U.S.-based manufacturers or those that export transformers and components to the U.S. — such as Mexico, Canada, and China — Reddy said Indian factories stayed ahead of local demand, even as electrification in the country ramped up. Lower labor costs allows factories to operate below peak capacity, providing an opportunity for Ayr to swoop in and contract with them immediately — even though many had previously produced almost entirely for the Indian market.
“It’s a highly manual, labor intensive process when you’re building bespoke heavy electric equipment. So the overhead of a factory that’s not producing equipment is pretty high,” Reddy told me. “Doing so in the U.S. would kill the company. Doing so in India, not so much.”
Ayr only emerged from stealth about seven months ago, and in the past year alone, Reddy said it’s built a backlog of over half a billion dollars in signed equipment orders, representing over 20 gigawatts of projects. The company started deploying its transformers and other backlogged power infrastructure in the middle of last year, and Reddy said it’s expecting its first high-voltage transformer to come online this quarter. So while the company has received early backing from venture firm General Catalyst — $3.5 million according to Pitchbook — Reddy told me it has no need to raise additional capital at this time.
Other transformer startups pursuing solid-state technology are bringing in plenty of venture capital — DG Matrix raised a $140 million Series B round and Heron Power raised a $60 million Series A round, both in February, while Singapore-based Amperesand secured $80 million last November — though their technology is only just beginning to commercialize. While conventional transformers rely on copper coils and iron cores to magnetically adjust voltage, solid-state transformers use power semiconductors — often made from silicon carbide — to perform voltage conversions electronically, while also enabling capabilities such as bidirectional power flow, AC/DC conversion, real-time voltage regulation, and rapid response to power surges.
But while these companies can also help ease the transformer shortage, their value proposition is distinctly different and likely to take longer to materialize than Ayr’s. For one, current solid-state transformer designs do not scale practically or economically to the high voltages required for the transmission grid. Instead, this novel tech is a better candidate to replace medium-voltage transformers on the distribution grid or low-voltage transformers inside facilities. This includes converting the low-voltage DC power produced by solar panels and batteries into medium-voltage AC power for the grid, delivering medium-voltage power from the grid to data centers and EV charging systems, and transporting low-voltage power around the data centers themselves, such as at the server rack level.
DG Matrix, for one, is primarily focused on data center applications for its solid-state transformers, which it initially plans to use to manage power generated onsite. The startup’s differentiating feature is its ability to balance electricity from multiple sources simultaneously, regardless of whether they’re operating on AC or DC power. For example, the company’s so-called “multi-port” device can integrate electricity generated from solar panels, natural gas generators, batteries, and the grid to provide power to data centers “in any ratio we want,” the company’s CEO Haroon Inam told me. It can also provide power back to the grid as needed.
Without such a unit, managing all these different sources would require significantly more space and numerous separate electrical components — protection equipment, multiple transformers for stepping voltage up or down, and converters to switch between AC and DC power. DG Matrix’s device thus promises to cut costs while boosting efficiency and reliability, especially for microgrid applications.
Now, Inam told me, the startup is looking at a “multi-billion dollar pipeline” for supplying low-voltage power to data centers for distribution inside the facilities themselves. It’s working to scale production at its North Carolina manufacturing facility, aiming to reach full capacity by July before pursuing a further expansion.
Heron Power, by contrast, is targeting a broader slice of the energy infrastructure market — in addition to data centers, it’s also seeking partnerships with operators of utility-scale solar and battery projects. Whereas DG Matrix is focused on coordinating onsite power from multiple sources, Heron is primarily interfacing with the grid, designing medium-voltage solid-state transformers that can step down power for delivery to end users such as data centers, and step up low-voltage power from solar and batteries to feed into the distribution grid — all without needing separate inverters for AC/DC conversions.
“It does what a traditional transformer does, but it also does what switchgear does, what tap changers do, what capacitor banks do, and what a synchronous condenser does, in a single package, managed in real time by software,” Heron’s CEO Drew Baglino told me via email.
During Baglino’s prior tenure leading the development and deployment of Tesla's EV Superchargers and large-scale battery storage systems, he constantly found conventional transformers to be “a supply chain constraint, a deployment bottleneck, and a physical hazard,” leading him to believe there simply had to be a better way. But because solid-state designs are driven by software-controlled power electronics rather than fixed hardware, that fundamentally shifts the paradigm, he said. “A traditional transformer that's wrong for the job gets ripped out and replaced. A Heron Link gets a firmware update.”
The company has publicly announced just two customers to date, but they’re big ones — clean energy developer Intersect Power and data center developer Crusoe. Overall, Heron said it’s secured over 50 gigawatts worth of orders, and is now working to build out a U.S.-based factory capable of producing 40 gigawatts of transformers annually, with initial production beginning next year.
Even if the transformer shortage resolves sooner rather than later, Inam doesn’t expect it to dampen interest in DG Matrix’s technology or solid-state transformers overall. Their ability to integrate multiple energy sources, he told me, “provides a more economic path to distributed generation” — especially as microgrids become an increasingly common way to circumvent the interconnection queue and generate power onsite.
“The fastest area of demand growth for transformers is for new energy technologies like solar, batteries, and data centers,” Baglino told me. So while he declined to speculate on when the shortage will end, he too expects continued demand. As for Reddy, he thinks the supply crunch is unlikely to fully ease until after 2030, when he predicts leading manufacturers will be able to fully ramp up the new transformer facilities and expansions that they’ve announced. .
At any rate, the frenzied data center buildout certainly shows no signs of waning, with the International Energy Agency projecting that global data center electricity consumption will double by 2030 and more than double in the U.S., where it will rise by about 2.3x. And with recent volatility in fossil fuel prices likely to accelerate the electrification of certain markets, transformers are set to remain as ubiquitous and critical as ever.
To meet the moment, Baglino said, “What's needed is the same concentration of focus, urgency, and scale that transformed electric transportation, directed at the infrastructure that powers everything else.”
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We didn’t know days like this could happen. Then we learned how bad they really are.
When I woke up this morning in Chicago, the Air Quality Index was in the 300s, and I could barely see the top of the skyscraper across the street. The weather app on my phone featured a little image of a man wearing a World War I-style full-face gas mask. That’s fun, I thought. I didn’t know it could do that.
I went downstairs. Old photographs of the city were hanging in the hotel lobby — girls playing in bathing suits next to the lake — and I realized that the haze shrouding the old Lakeshore Drive condos was in fact haze, smoke, particulate matter, and not a lens artifact. It really used to be that smoky all the time, back before the Clean Air Act. Then I glanced up and saw that the haze out the window was far worse than the century-old pollution in the picture.
It’s significant, I think, that a mass smoke-out like this has now happened to the eastern U.S. for a second time. Second times matter. When exhaust from Canadian wildfires blanketed the Northeast and parts of the Midwest in June 2023, exposing more Americans to wildfire smoke than on any previous day in history, one could almost write it off as a freak occurrence. It was upsetting, sure, and reminiscent of California’s climate-addled amber skies. But didn’t wildfire smoke also descend on New England once in the 1780s? Even on a warmer planet, couldn’t this remain a once-in-a-century blip?
Twice in just over three years, though — that‘s more than a hiccup. That’s almost a trend. To get smoked out once may be regarded as a misfortune; for it to recur again, without any plan to respond, starts to look like carelessness. The federal government is doing roughly diddly squat about adaptation — President Trump can build a fan on the border and make Canada pay for it — but state and local governments across the eastern U.S. will now need to reckon with a new form of extreme weather. You grew up with snow days, but now we’ll have smoke days — and schools and sports leagues and concert venues will need rules about how to deal with them. When should games be canceled, tickets refunded? Is smoke more like a heat wave or a hurricane? Hotels and office buildings will need to review their ventilation policies and possibly upgrade their equipment; municipal emergency response plans will be revised and printed in triplicate.
All this will happen because the smoke has invaded a second time — and arguably a third, if you count last year’s minor episode — and that means it could come back again. For that reason, this event strikes me as a much bigger deal than what happened in 2023. The smoke is now a fact of life; institutions will need a policy about it. The tortious creep of litigation risk will enforce that outcome, even if no federal official enforces it.
So it goes. But to be clear, this new inconvenience is not what worries me most about today’s events. No, what frightens me instead is that today’s airborne toxic event is not something that was supposed to happen. Until a few years ago, we had not thought too hard about whether a major smoke exposure event like this could happen on the East Coast at all. It had not seemed possible.
For years, economists and climate scientists have simulated how global warming might affect the U.S. and global economies. They poured years of careful work into this modeling, and they simulated — with ever-increasing levels of statistical persnicketiness — what extreme heat and sea-level rise might do to agricultural yield, labor productivity, energy demand, heat mortality, and real estate values, among other potential sources of damage. This work was useful; it improved our practical understanding of coastal flooding, to name one example. It also helped calibrate U.S. regulatory policy, even if it never achieved the crowning heights of helping to set a national carbon tax.
Yet these careful models almost never accounted for mass smoke exposure days. Indeed, the kind of thing that happened this week — when heavy haze blows down from Canada and exposes more than 100 million people to hazardous air — was not countenanced by the simulations at all. Only in recent years did economists begin to study events like these, and only because mass exposure events like 2023’s happened first.
We’ve long known that the tiny shreds of particulate matter in wildfire smoke dance across the body’s barriers and penetrate its deep places, etching their way into lung, heart, and brain tissue. Inflammation follows. What makes days like today unique is the scale: Tens of millions of Americans inhaling wildfire smoke at the same time. As we’ve started studying this phenomenon, it’s become clear that the mortality effects of days like today, the deaths elevated above what you’d otherwise expect, can persist for years. That becomes extraordinarily expensive for society.
How costly? “When monetized,” a group of Stanford and Princeton economists wrote in Nature last year, in the first major study on the topic, “the climate-driven smoke deaths result in economic damages that exceed existing estimates of climate-driven damages from all other causes combined in the U.S.A.”
You read that right: The cost of climate-worsened wildfire smoke alone is larger than what earlier studies said every other estimated cost of climate change would be, combined.
To summarize, wildfire smoke did not appear in our economic simulations of climate change. As recently as a few years ago, we did not really know that days like today — or June 7, 2023; or September 15, 2020; or September 9, 2020 — could occur. Then they happened. And happened again. And then we studied them and discovered that, in fact, they may be more expensive for the U.S. economy than we once thought climate change itself would be.
That worries me. Now we know these smoke-out days can happen; now they are fast becoming a rare but predictable feature of summer life. But until recently they were unimaginable. What other ignominies, what other tail risks and airborne surprises, are lurking in the uncontrolled experiment we’re running on the biosphere? What else — unforecast, unmodeled, unstudied, unthought of — lies ahead? After 10 years of covering the climate system, I am not someone who lies sleepless fretting about atmospheric CO2. But I do wonder what else we don’t know enough about to ask.
“Microsoft, you can’t hide, we can see your dirty side!”
Protestors interrupted one of the final sessions of PNW Climate Week — a conference that brings together climate leaders across Washington, Oregon, and British Columbia — objecting to Microsoft’s rising carbon emissions from data centers and partnerships with oil and gas companies. The company’s Chief Sustainability Officer Melanie Nakagawa was having a one on one conversation with GeekWire climate reporter Lisa Stiffler at Seattle’s City Hall when protestors carrying signs reading “Microsoft’s AI pollutes” and other slogans began shouting from the audience.
I was there, having just moderated the prior panel on how to finance Washington’s clean energy ambitions. Early on there were some rumblings in the crowd from up front. “Climate leaders don’t build gas pipelines in Moses Lake,” was the first objection I heard clearly. It came shortly after Nakagawa kicked off the conversation by highlighting Microsoft’s partnership with sustainable aviation fuel startup Twelve, which recently opened its first commercial-scale SAF plant in Moses Lake, Washington. The tech giant has supported the project through a strategic investment from its Climate Innovation Fund, as well as an offtake agreement for the fuel that will help offset its emissions from employee travel.
Whether Microsoft is building a gas pipeline in this particular community I haven’t been able to determine, though it seems irrelevant to Twelve’s SAF facility, which doesn’t rely on natural gas. But it is true that Microsoft is one of the largest power consumers in Grant County, Washington, home to Moses Lake, where a natural gas pipeline operator is looking to expand its network to accommodate data center load growth.
Another audience interruption was more pointed. “How does signing a 20-year deal with Chevron help you reach your clean energy goals?,” one protestor asked, referring to Microsoft's recently announced power purchase agreement with Chevron for nearly 2.7 gigawatts of natural gas-fired power to supply a West Texas data center. The project represents one of the largest gas-powered artificial intelligence developments in the U.S., and Stiffler acknowledged that she had been planning to ask about it, herself.
Nakagawa answered the question. at least in part, saying “that project with Chevron is initially using natural gas and it’s a natural gas contract,” before emphasizing that the company has built “over 4.5 gigawatts of clean energy already today,” and remains committed to balancing speed-to-power with its clean energy goals. She added that, “with this deal in particular, we’re looking at a range of tools in our toolbox to ensure that we can continue to grow our power, but also do so in a way that is responsible and sustainable.” She stopped short, however, of making any commitments to transitioning the project to renewable energy over time.
The session became more chaotic from there. Another protestor stood up, shouting that “Microsoft is enabling genocide in Palestine.” Other activists joined in, while still other audience members shouted back. As Nakagawa recovered and resumed answering a question from Stiffler about Microsoft’s recent decision to pause its carbon removal purchases after years of dominating the nascent industry, protestors throughout the crowd began a chant of “Microsoft, you can’t hide, we can see your dirty side.” Security eventually shepherded many of them out.
Stiffler continued speaking with Nakawaga about the company’s clean energy efforts, touching on many of the protestors’ concerns as she asked about community opposition to data centers, the role of large corporations in the clean energy transition, and whether Microsoft can realistically achieve its goal of becoming carbon negative by 2030.
Nakawaga emphasized that the company must, “first and foremost, listen to where the communities are and what they are calling for.” Regarding the concerns she hears most often, she explained that “first has been transparency. Second has been around resource uses and what are we doing about those resource uses. We’re hearing about jobs and employment and investments in education, investments in housing.”
If this session was any indication, those concerns won’t go away anytime soon.
Heat kills more Americans than any other extreme weather event in the United States. But wildfire smoke — while not strictly “weather” — appears to kill even more. Current excess death estimates put American heat mortality at about 10,000 people per year, or possibly as high as 12,000. Recent studies on wildfire PM 2.5 exposure suggest a mortality of double that: 24,000 all-cause deaths every year.
Needless to say, wildfire smoke is definitely not something you want to inhale if you can avoid it. (And really, you should try to.) But for the 115 million Americans in the Great Lakes and Northeast regions of the country who’ve been exposed to hazardous air from the fires in Ontario and Minnesota this week, there’s a chance that the damage is already done. According to a wildfire smoke mortality estimation tool from Cornell University’s School of Public Health and the Northeast Regional Climate Center, the total mortality for this smoke event could already be as high as 424 people so far, including nearly 100 in Michigan and more than 50 in both New York and Wisconsin.
Alistair Hayden, an assistant professor of practice in Cornell’s Department of Public and Ecosystem Health, stressed to me that the tool is a “first draft,” and that his team is still working on getting it peer-reviewed. “We intend it as a hypothesis that people can test in the coming weeks or months to confirm our numbers,” Hayden told me. “I’m really hoping to be proven wrong.”
But Hayden also emphasized that while the West Coast might historically be where many smoke-related deaths have occurred, “this is the third out of four years [in the Northeast] that we’re having the smoke, so it seems like something we should be planning for,” he said. “It reminds me of that saying: ‘Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.’”
Admittedly, the smoke this week is a bit of a freak occurrence. A cooler-than-average sea surface pattern across the North Pacific, known as a negative phase of the Pacific Decadal Oscillation, helped produce weak low-pressure areas in the northwestern part of the United States, which in turn allowed for heat domes to develop across the Southwest and Plains. After one did just that earlier this month, the hot, high-pressure dome then shifted north, where it developed “dryness across Canada, followed by the lightning-producing thunderstorms,” Chad Merrill, a senior meteorologist at AccuWeather, told me. Then, boom: widespread fires.
“It is very unusual to have a combination of an El Niño and a negative phase of the Pacific Decadal Oscillation,” Merrill went on. “That’s one of the unusual factors this year, which contributed to the heat dome being farther north in that particular position.” The heat dome and jet stream then worked together to direct the thick smoke down into some of the most populous regions of Canada and the U.S.
That’s what makes this particular smoke event so bad. Were the smoke blowing over remote regions of Canada, as it would under more usual conditions, “then the big cities and the Great Lakes wouldn’t experience the smoke; it would have gone north toward the Hudson Bay and then Greenland,” Merrill said. In fact, the Canadian fire season is tracking below average overall; it’s the meteorological conditions that made this week’s smoke events, as one outlet put it, “the perfect storm.”
Wildfire smoke in the region is not historically anomalous, however. A 1903 article in The New York Times describes a “yellow day” similar to smoky events in 1894, 1881, and earlier. But large-scale burns in Canada’s dense, remote boreal, which produce more smoke, are increasing. Though it’s difficult to attribute any one wildfire directly to climate change because of the complex nature of such events, we do know that fire weather is becoming more common with the warming of the atmosphere from greenhouse gas emissions. As modeled by Zeke Hausfather in the Friday edition of his newsletter The Climate Brink, “hotter, drier seasons burn the most” in Canada — and “recent years cluster there” as the country has outpaced the global average in warming.
But as Hausfather also writes, “While overall area burned is the climate-linked trend, who breathes the smoke on a given week in July is mostly driven by the weather.” This is similar to the way that, though it may be a quiet year in the Atlantic, it only takes one hurricane making landfall in the right (or wrong) spot for the season to be remembered as catastrophic.
On the other hand, as foolish as it might be for the Central Plains and East Coast to still believe smoke is the exclusive domain of Westerners, it is also a mistake to assume smoke only comes from without. As I reported earlier this year, the Eastern half of the country has seen a 10-fold jump in the frequency of large burns over the last 40 years. Nowhere is safe from the smoke.
Planning and preparation, then, should be paramount. But as Grist learned last month, there are no established Air Quality Index numbers that would trigger the postponement, relocation, or cancellation of, say, a FIFA World Cup game, including the final, which is set to be played in New Jersey on Sunday. White House officials are reportedly meeting with FIFA’s president on Friday to discuss contingencies, given the unhealthy air quality in the region.
Which brings us back to Hayden’s modeling. He offered a note of optimism in that research by Stanford’s Sam Heft-Neal and his colleagues indicates that emergency room visits do not rise in tandem with increasing wildfire smoke. “As smoke gets bad, the health impacts get bigger. But then as smoke gets worse and worse, the amount of health impacts actually goes down, measured for emergency room visits,” Hayden said. “The idea is that people modify their behavior in higher smoke” — say, by staying indoors, wearing masks, or canceling outdoor events.
It’s time to treat smoke as an East Coast phenomenon, in other words. Doing so will save lives. “Will [smoke events] become more frequent in the future? Most likely we will see a recurrence,” Merrill, the meteorologist, told me. “How often they happen is yet to be determined.”