You’re out of free articles.
Log in
To continue reading, log in to your account.
Create a Free Account
To unlock more free articles, please create a free account.
Sign In or Create an Account.
By continuing, you agree to the Terms of Service and acknowledge our Privacy Policy
Welcome to Heatmap
Thank you for registering with Heatmap. Climate change is one of the greatest challenges of our lives, a force reshaping our economy, our politics, and our culture. We hope to be your trusted, friendly, and insightful guide to that transformation. Please enjoy your free articles. You can check your profile here .
subscribe to get Unlimited access
Offer for a Heatmap News Unlimited Access subscription; please note that your subscription will renew automatically unless you cancel prior to renewal. Cancellation takes effect at the end of your current billing period. We will let you know in advance of any price changes. Taxes may apply. Offer terms are subject to change.
Subscribe to get unlimited Access
Hey, you are out of free articles but you are only a few clicks away from full access. Subscribe below and take advantage of our introductory offer.
subscribe to get Unlimited access
Offer for a Heatmap News Unlimited Access subscription; please note that your subscription will renew automatically unless you cancel prior to renewal. Cancellation takes effect at the end of your current billing period. We will let you know in advance of any price changes. Taxes may apply. Offer terms are subject to change.
Create Your Account
Please Enter Your Password
Forgot your password?
Please enter the email address you use for your account so we can send you a link to reset your password:
Boosters say that the energy demand from data centers make VPPs a necessary tool, but big challenges still remain.

The story of electricity in the modern economy is one of large, centralized generation sources — fossil-fuel power plants, solar farms, nuclear reactors, and the like. But devices in our homes, yards, and driveways — from smart thermostats to electric vehicles and air-source heat pumps — can also act as mini-power plants or adjust a home’s energy usage in real time. Link thousands of these resources together to respond to spikes in energy demand or shift electricity load to off-peak hours, and you’ve got what the industry calls a virtual power plant, or VPP.
The theoretical potential of VPPs to maximize the use of existing energy infrastructure — thereby reducing the need to build additional poles, wires, and power plants — has long been recognized. But there are significant coordination challenges between equipment manufacturers, software platforms, and grid operators that have made them both impractical and impracticable. Electricity markets weren’t designed for individual consumers to function as localized power producers. The VPP model also often conflicts with utility incentives that favor infrastructure investments. And some say it would be simpler and more equitable for utilities to build their own battery storage systems to serve the grid directly.
Now, however, many experts say that VPPs’ time to shine is nigh. Homeowners are increasingly pairing rooftop solar with home batteries, installing electric heat pumps, and buying EVs — effectively large batteries on wheels. At the same time, the ongoing data center buildout has pushed electricity demand growth upward for the first time in decades, leaving the industry hungry for new sources of cheap, clean, and quickly deployable power.
“VPPs have been waiting for a crisis and cash to scale and meet the moment. And now we have both,” Mark Dyson, a managing director at RMI, a clean energy think tank, told me. “We have a load growth crisis, and we have a class of customers who have a very high willingness to pay for power as quickly as possible.” Those customers are the data center hyperscalers, of course, who are impatient to circumvent the lengthy grid interconnection queue in any way possible, potentially even by subsidizing VPP programs themselves.
Jigar Shah, former director of the Department of Energy’s Loan Programs Office under President Biden, is a major VPP booster, calling their scale-up “the fastest and most cost-effective way to support electrification” in a 2024 DOE release announcing a partnership to integrate VPPs onto the electric grid. While VPPs today provide roughly 37.5 gigawatts of flexible capacity, Shah’s goal was to scale that to between 80 and 160 gigawatts by 2030. That’s equivalent to around 7% to 13% of the U.S.’s current utility-scale electricity generating capacity.
Utilities are infamously slow to adopt new technologies. But Apoorv Bhargava, CEO and co-founder of the utility-focused VPP software platform WeaveGrid, told me that he’s “felt a sea change in how aware utilities are that, building my way out is not going to happen; burning my way out is not going to happen.” That’s led, he explained, to an industry-wide recognition that “we need to get much better at flexing resources — whether that’s consumer resources, whether that’s utility-sited resources, whether that’s hyperscalers even. We’ve got to flex.”
Actual VPP capacity appears to have grown more slowly over the past few years than the enthusiasm surrounding the resource’s potential. According to renewable energy consultancy WoodMackenzie, while the number of new VPP programs, offtakers, and company deployments each grew over 33% last year, capacity grew by a more modest 13.7%. Ben Hertz-Shargel, who leads a WoodMac research team focused on distributed energy resources, attributed this slower growth to utility pilot programs that cap VPP participation, rules that limit financial incentives by restricting how VPP capacity is credited, and other market barriers that make it difficult for customers to engage.
Dyson similarly said he sees “friction on the utility side, on the regulatory side, to align the incentive programs with real needs.” These points of friction include requirements for all participating devices to communicate real-time performance data — even for minor, easily modeled metrics such as a smart thermostat’s output — as well as utilities’ hesitancy to share household-level metering data with third parties, even when it’s necessary to enroll in a VPP program. Figuring out new norms for utilities and state regulations is “the nut that we have to crack,” he said.
One of the more befuddling aspects of the whole VPP ecosystem, however, can be just trying to parse out what services a VPP program can actually provide. The term VPP can refer to anything from decades-old demand response programs that have customers manually shutting off appliances during periods of grid stress to aspirational, fully integrated systems that continually and automatically respond to the grid’s needs.
“When a customer like a utility says, I want to do a VPP, nobody knows what they’re talking about. And when a regulator says we should enable VPPs, nobody knows what services they’re selling,” Bhargava told me.
In an effort to help clarify things, the software company EnergyHub developed what it calls the VPP Maturity Model, which defines five levels of maturity. Level 0 represents basic demand response. A utility might call up an industrial customer and tell them to reduce their load, or use price signals to encourage households to cut down on electricity use in the evening. Level 1 incorporates smart devices that can send data back to the utility, while at Level 2, VPPs can more precisely ramp load up or down over a period of hours with better monitoring, forecasting, and some partial autonomy — this is where most advanced VPPs are at today.
Moving into Levels 3 and 4 involves more automation, the ability to handle extended grid events, and ultimately full integration with the utility and grid-operator’s systems to provide 24/7 value. The ultimate goal, according to EnergyHub’s model, is for VPPs to operate indistinguishably from conventional power plants, eventually surpassing them in capabilities.
But some question whether imitating such a fundamentally different resource should actually be the end game.
“What we don’t need is a bunch of virtual power plants that are overconstrained to act just like gas plants,” Dyson told me. By trying to engineer “a new technology to behave like an old technology,” he said, grid operators risk overlooking the unique value VPPs can provide — particularly on the distribution grid, which delivers electricity directly to homes and businesses. Here, VPPs can help manage voltage regulation or work to avoid overloads on lines with many distributed resources, such as solar panels — things traditional power plants can’t do because they’re not connected to these local lines.
Still others are frankly dubious of the value of large-scale VPP programs in the first place. “The benefits of virtual power plants, they look really tantalizing on paper,” Ryan Hanna, a research scientist at UC San Diego’s Center for Energy Research told me. “Ultimately, they’re providing electric services to the electric power grid that the power grid needs. But other resources could equally provide those.”
Why not, he posited, just incentivize or require utilities to incorporate battery storage systems at either the transmission or distribution levels into their long-term plans for meeting demand? Large-scale batteries would also help utilities maximize the value of their existing assets and capture many of the other benefits VPPs promise. Plus, they would do it at a “larger size, and therefore a lower unit cost,” Hanna told me.
Many VPP companies would certainly dispute the cost argument, and also note that with grid interconnection queues stretching on for years, VPPs offer a way to deploy aggregated resources far more quickly than building out and connecting new, centralized assets.
But another advantage of Hanna’s utility-led approach, he said, is that the benefits would be shared equally — all customers would see similar savings on their electricity bills as grid-scale batteries mitigate the need for expensive new infrastructure, the cost of which is typically passed on to ratepayers. VPPs, on the other hand, deliver an outsize benefit to the customers incentivized to participate by dint of their neighborhood’s specific needs, and with the cash on hand to invest in resources such as a home battery or an EV.
This echoes a familiar equity argument made about rooftop solar: that the financial benefits accrue only to households that can afford the upfront investment, while the cost of maintaining shared grid infrastructure falls more heavily on non-participants. Except in the case of VPPs, non-participants also stand to benefit — just less — if the programs succeed in driving down system costs and improving grid reliability.
“I may pay Customer A and Customer B may sit on the sidelines,” Matthew Plante, co-founder and president of the VPP operator Voltus, told me. “Customer A gets a direct payment, but customer B’s rates go down. And so everyone benefits, even if not directly.” On the flip side, if the VPP didn’t exist, that would be a lose-lose for all customers.
Plante is certainly not opposed to the idea of utilities building grid-scale batteries themselves, though. Neither he nor anyone else can afford to be picky about the way new capacity comes online right now, he said. “I think we all want to say, what is quickest and most efficient and most economical? And let’s choose that solution. Sometimes it’s got to be both.”
For its part, Voltus is betting that its pathway to scale runs through its recently announced partnership with the U.S. division of Octopus Energy, the U.K.’s largest energy supplier, which provides software to utilities to coordinate distributed energy resources and enroll customers in VPP programs. Together, they plan to build portfolios of flexible capacity for utilities and wholesale electricity markets, areas where Octopus has extensive experience. “So that gives us market access in a much quicker way,” Plante told me.”
At this moment, there’s no customer more motivated than a data center to bring large volumes of clean energy online as quickly as possible, in whatever way possible. Because while data enters themselves can theoretically act as flexible loads, ramping up and down in response to grid conditions, operators would probably rather pay others to be flexible instead.
“Does a data center company ever want to say, okay, I won’t run my training model for a couple hours on the hottest day of the year? They don’t, because it’s worth a lot of money to run that training model 24/7,” Dyson told me. “Instead, the opportunity here is to use the money that generates to pay other people to flex their load, or pay other people to adopt batteries or other resources that can help create headroom on the system.”
Both Plante of Voltus and Bhargava of WeaveGrid confirmed that hyperscalers are excited by the idea of subsidizing VPP programs in one form or another. That could look like providing capital to help customers in a data center’s service territory buy residential batteries or contracts that guarantee a return for VPP aggregators like Voltus. “I think they recognize in us an ability to get capacity unlocked quickly,” Plante told me.
Yet another knot in this whole equation, however, is that even given hyperscalers’ enthusiasm and the maturation of VPP technology, most utilities still lack a natural incentive to support this resource. That’s because investor-owned utilities — which serve approximately 70% of U.S. electricity customers — earn profits primarily by building infrastructure such as power plants and transmission lines, receiving a guaranteed rate of return on that capital investment. Successful VPPs, on the other hand, reduce a utility’s need to build new assets.
The industry is well aware of this fundamental disconnect, though some contend that current load growth ought to quell this concern. Utilities will still need to build significant new infrastructure to meet the moment, Bhargava told me, and are now under intense pressure to expand the grid’s capacity in other ways, as well.
“They cannot build fast enough. There’s not enough copper, there’s not enough transformers, there’s not enough people,” Bhargava explained. VPPs, he expects, will allow utilities to better prioritize infrastructure upgrades that stand to be most impactful, such as building a substation near a data center instead of in a suburb that could be adequately served by distributed resources.
The real question he sees now is, “How do we make our flexibility as good as copper? How do we make people trust in it as much as they would trust in upgrading the system?”
Log in
To continue reading, log in to your account.
Create a Free Account
To unlock more free articles, please create a free account.
Even though he is partially responsible for them.
This is an edition of Heatmap Daily, an evening review of the day’s news written by our executive editor. Sign up for it here.
Welcome to August — which, as the political commentator Josh Barro once observed, is the year’s “stupidest news month.” Because Congress goes on recess around this time of year, and so many other Americans go on vacation, “the quantity of serious news structurally declines,” and we journalists have to turn to sillier stories in order to fill the space.
I couldn’t help but think of that post today. As my colleague Matthew Zeitlin covered last week, oil companies recently had a blowout quarter. Last week, Chevron reported its best quarterly earnings result ever, while Exxon announced its largest profit in four years. None of this was a surprise: The Iran war and the Strait of Hormuz’s closure sent oil prices soaring around the world in the spring, making the supermajors’ domestic refinery business especially profitable. Despite its big result, Exxon actually underperformed Wall Street’s expectations — that’s how expected all of this was.
Still, though — the oil companies benefited from a supply shock that was hurting everyone else in the economy. Although this kind of volatility is part and parcel of the commodities business — it is part of what makes commodities so enticing to investors — it is, at the very least, not a good look. And in times like these, progressive policymakers will sometimes call for a windfall profits tax, a one-time levy on large and unexpected profits arising from a situation outside a company’s control. (Centrists and conservatives tend to prefer making different reforms to the tax system that tax “supernormal” profits.)
The United States last imposed a windfall profits tax on oil companies in the 1970s, but other countries still use them today: The U.K. implemented one after Russia’s invasion of Ukraine drove up gas prices in 2022, as did a handful of European countries. More recently, Senator Sheldon Whitehouse of Rhode Island and Representative Ro Khanna of California proposed a windfall tax after gasoline prices shot up in March.
I wouldn’t have counted President Trump among Whitehouse’s and Khanna’s number. Yet speaking to reporters from the Oval Office today, Trump said the oil companies were “making too much money” from the Strait of Hormuz closure.
“Chevron, too much money. ExxonMobil, too much money,” the president said. “When you look at one company where they made 12 times what they made the year before, they ought to give some of that back to the public … And they better cut the retail price, the consumer price.”
He noted that many reporters looked “surprised” he was saying it, but reiterated he “wasn’t happy.”
Now, the president hasn’t quite called for a windfall profits tax — he seems to have something more voluntary in mind. Yet given Trump’s fealty to the industry in virtually every other context, his comments are striking and make his political judgement around the war all the more perplexing. The president chose to go to war with Iran — and the almost certain outcome of that conflict, in any world, was going to be higher oil prices. If anything, the war has moved crude less than analysts would have thought. What was Trump expecting here?
I don’t expect these remarks to usher in some new era of Trumpian policy or politics — this is probably just another silly August story. But they reflect how much the politics of energy have changed since President Trump took office in January 2025. Americans know it, Democrats know it, and President Trump knows it too.
Data centers are a big test for the nascent industry. But they also can’t fill the orderbooks.
For the last few years, there’s been just one story dominating the economy, Silicon Valley, and much of the climate tech world too: artificial intelligence. It has consumed investor’s time and money, leaving relatively little for the rest of the startup ecosystem. But for companies that can hitch themselves to the AI boom and tie their value proposition to the data center buildout, this narrow funding focus can be a tailwind.
The most obvious beneficiaries so far have largely fallen into two camps: startups using AI to build cheaper, better products or those developing technologies to cleanly power data centers themselves. But what about the companies actually manufacturing the physical materials behind these facilities? The data center buildout is ultimately an investment in the physical economy, which largely means an investment in concrete — the most widely used man-made material on Earth.
Cement, the key ingredient that binds concrete together, accounts for 8% of global CO2 emissions, and is a major driver of hyperscaler’s scope 3 emissions. Microsoft and Google’s recent sustainability reports, for example, reveal that their largest emissions category isn’t electricity but “capital goods,” which includes the embodied carbon in their physical assets and infrastructure such as the concrete, steel, server racks, and silicon used to build data centers.
Cement is a big part of that picture because producing it typically requires burning limestone in kilns at extremely high temperatures, a process that both uses large amounts of fossil fuels and releases CO2 through the underlying chemical reaction itself. So if hyperscalers are serious about decarbonization, one might expect them to be pretty interested in startups such as Brimstone, Sublime Systems, and Fortera, each of which is pursuing a different approach to reducing cement’s carbon footprint.
And they are interested. But that alone won’t fill these company’s orderbooks or offset the headwinds generated by the Trump administration rescinding previously obligated grants. That challenge has only been compounded by climate tech’s broader fall from favor as investors chase flashier, more explicitly AI-centric bets.
Still, Cory Waltrip, Sublime’s VP of business development, told me that data centers make a fantastic beachhead market for the company’s low-carbon cement, which it produces through an electrochemical process that eliminates the need for high-temperature kilns. Hyperscalers, he said, have both the market power and financial runway to think long-term about “the way that they’re signing agreements” and “how you can structure those agreements.” Of course, “the balance sheet and the amount of capital that they allocate towards sustainability commitments” doesn’t hurt either.
Last May, Microsoft signed an offtake agreement with Sublime to purchase up to 622,500 metric tons of cement from the company’s future demonstration plant in Holyoke, Massachusetts, as well as a yet-to-be-sited full-scale facility. The deal is unique because it doesn’t require Microsoft to actually use Sublime’s cement in its data centers. Since cement is expensive and impractical to ship long distances, what Microsoft really purchased is the cement’s so-called “environmental attributes,” allowing Sublime to sell the physical product to local customers while Microsoft gets to claim the associated emissions reductions.
It was one of the first deals in the cement industry to decouple the physical product from its environmental benefits. But that good news was quickly overshadowed. Just eight days later, Energy Secretary Chris Wright announced the cancellation of 24 awards from the DOE’s Office of Clean Energy Demonstrations, including a $87 million grant for Sublime and a $189 million grant for Brimstone. That sent Sublime into a tailspin: In December, it paused plans for its demo plant, and in March it laid off roughly two-thirds of its workforce. The company has since filed a suit in the court of federal claims, alleging that the DOE breached its contract with Sublime, but a resolution could take years.
All the cement-hungry data centers in the world would struggle to make up for the loss of that federal funding. Hyperscalers want to buy low-carbon cement from companies that already have a credible pathway to commercial production, not foot the bill for a first-of-a-kind plant.
So Sublime is now pursuing “alternative scale up plans” that don’t involve the Holyoke facility, with Microsoft remaining “a committed customer,” Waltrip said. The most promising option involves co-locating with existing but underutilized standard cement plants in North America or Europe. Doing so could reduce capital costs by roughly 20% to 40%, Waltrip told me. “We can use all of the existing crushing, grinding, finishing, and storage equipment that an existing cement plant already has.”
Building in Europe — something Sublime has yet to commit to but is certainly considering — could also open the door to other non-dilutive public financing, such as the bloc’s roughly €40 billion EU Innovation Fund, which regularly backs industrial decarbonization projects such as low-carbon cement.
In the meantime, the company also says it’s made significant process improvements that could drastically change the scale at which it builds plants. While former CEO Leah Ellis described Sublime’s future commercial facility as a “megaton-scale plant,” Sublime now thinks it could economically produce the material in 50,000 to 250,000 metric tons-per-year facilities. These smaller plants would be far easier to finance without relying on large government grants, Waltrip told me.
Sublime is exploring multiple other undisclosed data center engagements as well, as Waltrip revealed that “we’ve completed materials testing with at least one hyperscaler. We’ve completed a concrete demonstration pour with another hyperscaler,” and “we’ve negotiated or are in the process of negotiating commercial agreements with other hyperscalers beyond Microsoft.”
The company also conducted a small test pour of its low-carbon concrete last year with STACK Infrastructure, a data center developer that leases out its facilities. But while the material has exceeded performance standards, STACK is unlikely to become a customer anytime soon. “If we had a commercial plant ready to go, I think we would be having no issues with finding customers for that product,” Waltrip told me. The challenge is that developers outside the major hyperscalers typically lack the financial flexibility to sign long-term offtake agreements for a product that may not reach meaningful scale until the mid-2030s.
So for now, Google, Microsoft, Meta, and Amazon remain the most sought-after buyers.
Brimstone, another low-carbon cement company, also landed a major hyperscaler deal last year. The company, which still uses kilns but replaces limestone with carbon-free calcium silicate rocks in its production process, agreed to supply Amazon with an undisclosed amount of cement and supplementary cementitious materials, which can partially replace cement in concrete. CEO Cody Finke told me he couldn’t share any additional details, including the volume of materials reserved or when he expects deliveries to begin, though he readily acknowledges the impact of the data center boom.
“There’s no question that the data center buildout has increased the demand for these materials,” Finke told me. Early last year, the company announced that it’s also figured out how to adapt its process to produce alumina — the refined material that smelters turn into aluminum. Data centers also use this metal throughout their operations in structural panels, server racks, and cooling systems. Eventually, the company says it will be able to make additional critical minerals and materials including steel, magnesium, and titanium.
For now though, Brimstone is working to complete construction of its demo plant in Reno, Nevada, which the company recently said it expects to be operational in 2028. Finke was somewhat more cautious, however, telling me only that it should come online by “the end of the decade.” The company’s first full-scale plant, the location of which it’s yet to announce, is slated to begin operations around 2034, producing 350,000 metric tons of alumina and an undisclosed amount of cement and other materials.
But like Sublime, Brimstone also lost a major source of federal support when the Trump administration rescinded its $189 million DOE grant, which was intended to finance construction of the demo plant. Finke, however, insisted this hasn’t altered the company’s timeline because Brimstone, having netted over $80 million to date, “had effectively raised the money that we needed, regardless of the grant.”
Finke isn’t relying on the goodwill of hyperscalers either, even though many do appear willing to pay a green premium in order to align with their ambitious, if flailing, decarbonization agendas. “To be frank, I don’t think that it’s that important to the transition whether or not those climate policies exist, because the companies that really matter are going to be cheaper anyway,” he told me.
Brimstone, he argues, is one of those companies. By co-producing multiple products at once, each can effectively offset the cost of the others, and Finke expects even the cement produced at the Reno demo plant to sell at standard market rates. Ultimately, while he sees growth in the data center industry as a tailwind, he doesn’t think Brimstone depends on that market, noting these facilities still only account for a small sliver of global cement demand. The company’s primary customers, he said, will ultimately be traditional buyers: concrete producers purchasing cement and aluminum smelters buying alumina.
Yet data centers willing to negotiate multi-year contracts still represent uniquely valuable first customers in an industry where such agreements are exceedingly rare. Instead, producers typically sell cement into a merchant spot market, where buyers purchase from whatever supplier meets their myriad requirements at the time. But that leaves low-carbon materials startups in a bind, Fortera’s CEO Ryan Gilliam told me. “When you’re trying to bring a new technology to market like us, you typically use offtake agreements to get project financing to justify building up big projects,” he explained. Potential investors simply want to see demonstrated future demand.
Fortera, which has raised about $150 million and has an operational pilot plant in California, captures the CO2 emitted from conventional cement production and converts it into a mineral form that then becomes part of the cement itself. Last year, it secured a strategic investment from Microsoft’s Climate Innovation Fund to help finance its first commercial-scale facility, expected to produce 400,000 tons of cement per year. In return, the tech giant secured the right to procure Fortera’s low-carbon cement and its associated environmental attribute certificates — more of a reservation than the binding offtake contract it signed with Sublime.
Just one plant of this size “would meet all the hyperscalers’ needs easily,” Gilliam told me, underlining Finke’s point that data centers will by no means represent a cement company’s largest buyer long-term. “Most hyperscalers, you’re talking maybe upwards of 100,000 tons a year of requirements around cement, and that might even be at the upper end,” Gilliam explained. By comparison, standard cement plants typically produce about a million tons of product annually.
So while Gilliam and others are happy to ride the AI boom, they also recognize that data centers are likely more valuable as an early market signal than a long-term source of demand. Even now, it remains unclear whether the boom is even a net positive for the sector as a whole.
“The number of AI startups and the amount of money that’s been diverted into that space definitely changed the pool of investors that you can go to right now,” Gilliam told me. And that’s the core paradox. The data center boom has become one of the clean cement industry’s most promising early markets and one of its fiercest competitors for capital. Welcome to the AI economy.
The energy developer is backing off after a Heatmap report.
Clearway says it is backing off its plans to build a data center and gas power plant on federal land, days after Heatmap revealed the energy developer’s proposal.
Last week, I reported that Clearway asked the Trump administration’s Bureau of Land Management to swap a five year-old application for a solar farm’s permits with “a proposed data center and natural gas facility.” Clearway’s chief development officer John Woody had written in a letter to BLM dated April 3 that the swap was “the result of a shift in our internal development priorities” and intended “to better align with the goals of our Administration.” He also noted the plans were in “exploratory early stages.”
This news fit a trend. I obtained Clearway’s letter right after reporting on a different solar project on federal land that was being swapped for a data center. But it turns out, the company’s internal thinking continued to shift: on Friday, they reached out to me saying they are now nixing the data center and gas plant, after concluding it wasn’t the right call for their business.
“Since our initial filing, we’ve evaluated how to make the best use of this public land in a way that serves its intended purpose: the public interest. As a clean energy developer and operator, our focus in Nevada remains solar and battery storage,” Clearway said in a statement it provided to me from an unnamed spokesperson. “We are in the process of amending our application to reflect the state’s growing demand for low-cost, reliable energy.”
In addition, Clearway on Monday sent a letter to BLM formally alerting the agency it has no plans to build the data center, which it also provided to me.
When I first broke news of Clearway’s plans, I said it was an apparent aberration – they oversaw relatively few fossil projects and had never worked in data centers. I chalked this pivot up to yet another energy developer changing its tune with the winds of national politics. Now that the company is apparently sticking to its guns, I’m mostly just left wondering what happened here – and relieved some still remain committed to zero-emissions power in the booming business of electrons.