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A conversation with Harvard Law School’s Jody Freeman about life after the endangerment finding.

The Environmental Protection Agency unveiled a proposal on Tuesday to reverse its own conclusion that greenhouse gases are a threat to public health and welfare. Known as the “endangerment finding,” this 2009 determination initially compelled the agency to regulate carbon emissions from vehicles under the Clean Air Act. But the agency has since used it as the basis for many of its efforts to tackle climate change, including emissions limits on power plants, oil and gas operations, and aviation.
If the reversal is finalized as written — and survives court challenges — the EPA will no longer have the legal authority to regulate carbon dioxide from the tailpipes of cars or trucks, invalidating the vehicle standards issued by the Biden administration last year.
While other greenhouse gas regulations wouldn’t automatically disappear, the agency could easily use the same arguments to repeal them. Indeed, the agency said that it has already initiated or intends to initiate “separate rulemakings that will address any overlapping issues” related to other sources of greenhouse gas emissions, such as power plants.
EPA’s primary justification for reversing course, detailed in a 302-page document, is that the Clean Air Act is designed to target air pollution that endangers public health “through local or regional exposure,” and therefore that it cannot be used to rein in greenhouse gases “based on global climate change concerns.” Richard Revesz, a professor of law at New York University and former Biden official, told me this was “breathtakingly broad,” and said that it was “inconsistent with 55 years of regulation under the Clean Air Act. That limitation was never understood to be there.”
The EPA also put forth a host of other legal and scientific arguments, “basically throwing the kitchen sink at this issue,” Revesz said. The proposal asserts that the EPA should have considered the downstream costs of making the finding, as well as weighed the potential benefits of a warmer climate. In a section entitled “Alternative Rationale for Proposed Rescission,” the agency attempts to poke holes in the scientific evidence that climate change is a threat to public health, concluding that the research is uncertain. It cites a report from the Department of Energy, also released Tuesday, that says the warming caused by greenhouse gases is not as bad for the economy as people once thought, and that regulating such emissions will have “undetectably small direct impacts on the global climate.”
The proposal cherry-picks data and misinterprets scientific findings. For example, it says that recent evidence suggests that the temperature projections EPA used to make the endangerment finding were “unduly pessimistic,” citing a 2020 paper by climate scientist Zeke Hausfather. But Hausfather has already posted on social media that this is wrong — his paper supported the EPA’s 2009 temperature projections.
My inbox is currently full of statements from legal experts, scientists, and activists adamant that the administration’s arguments are baseless. The agency will be taking public comments on the proposal through September 21, and hold at least two public hearings on August 19 and 20. To get a sense of what to expect over the coming months and years as a result of this move, I called up Jody Freeman, the director of the Environmental and Energy Law Program at Harvard and a former White House counsel for the Obama administration. Our conversation has been lightly edited for clarity.
What will EPA have to do in order to finalize this proposal?
What they do is put it out for public comment. There’ll be a huge reaction to this, and so they’ll have a very big set of comments that they’re going to have to go through, which then will take them several months at a minimum. And they’re not necessarily going to be in a rush, right? At a minimum, we’re going to be getting into 2026 before we’d see a final rule. And then the lawsuits would start.
Other than just responding to the public comments, are there certain things that they would have to demonstrate to finalize this determination?
The normal process is you have to respond to the most serious and relevant comments. So if the comment says, The claims you’re making about the science are wrong, they’d have to respond to that. The normal course is they come back with a final rule that explains why they’re doing what they’re doing, and why they either didn’t agree with the comments, or they do agree with some of them, and they’ve adapted the proposal.
And as you said, then the lawsuits would start.
It doesn’t take effect for 30 days after it’s final. But yes, at that point, they get sued. These rules go to the D.C. Circuit Court of Appeals because that’s what the Clean Air Act says, and usually it would take about a year or so for a D.C. Circuit decision to happen. So now you’re in 2027. You can see the timeline on this stretching out. And if you ultimately think this could go to the Supreme Court, you can imagine that’s another year away. So basically, for the rest of President Trump’s term, you really shouldn’t expect to see enforcement or action on federal climate rules.
Even if the EPA hadn’t taken this step, wouldn’t that still have been the case, since the Trump administration is fighting the power plant rules and the vehicle emissions rules?
Well, you could see them dragging their feet enforcing these standards. Of course, they would get sued if they weren’t enforcing vehicle emission standards against the auto industry. There would be efforts to force them to enforce. But it’s more serious and more long term damage for them to try to rescind the underlying endangerment finding because depending on what the Supreme Court does with that, it could knock out a future administration from trying to bring it back. Now that would be the nuclear option. That would be their best case scenario. I don’t think that’s likely, but it’s possible.
At a minimum, let’s say they don’t win everything, but the court says they can do this for now — they have the discretion, the flexibility not to make this finding. Another administration can come back and make it and restore the rules. But that would take, again, several years. So even if they lose, they win.
If they do finalize this, would the other lawsuits that are going on around the power plant rules and the vehicle emissions rules automatically be dropped?
There are a few lawsuits that were challenging the Biden-era rules, but the Trump administration asked the courts to hold them in abeyance because they said, We’re going to go revisit all those rules and replace them. So those lawsuits aren’t moving forward anyway at the moment. It would probably be true that the administration, in taking this action, wants to set up a situation where it can go back into court and say, Well, now all these challenges are moot. We don’t have any authority to regulate anyway. But for now, they’re all on hold.
Are there other regulations this will affect besides those for vehicles and power plants?
The methane rule for oil and gas facilities is more of a question mark because they don’t seem to be announcing they’ll eliminate it. It’s possible they push off compliance. It’s possible they make the rule weaker. But there are a couple reasons why they might not rescind that.
One is that there’s a very complicated history of this rule. Congress disapproved of a weaker methane rule the first time around in the Trump administration, and because of that congressional action, there’s a barrier there. They can’t easily just rescind that methane rule. They’ve got more legal hurdles to jump through.
The other reason is there are some good reasons to regulate methane that have to do with ozone pollution and pollution that isn’t just about climate change. And the third reason is the oil and gas industry might actually want a methane rule. They might want a weak one, but they might want one federally. So that’s a bit separate, and you have to be on the lookout for them handling methane differently.
Could a future EPA just develop stronger pollution standards for other pollutants that would indirectly reduce greenhouse gas emissions?
It’s true that when you set toxics standards, for example, for power plants to control their toxic pollution, a side benefit is those power plants become more efficient, and that means they control their carbon pollution, too. But this is more around the margins. This is not taking big bites out of power plant greenhouse gas emissions or big bites out of car and truck emissions. It would be a much, much, much weaker version of what you can do with the endangerment finding.
So if the endangerment finding is reversed, is the only path for future regulation for Congress to explicitly tell EPA that it must regulate greenhouse gases?
That’s one option, but it may not necessarily be the only one. It depends on where this lands after it moves through the courts. If the Supreme Court said, You, Trump EPA, you can rescind this finding, but another administration could bring it back, then another administration can say, Well, we think the science is clear, and we’re going to make the finding again and issue these rules. So it all depends on how far the court goes. If it’s going to agree with EPA, how much will it agree? But if the court were to essentially say, this agency has no authority now and forever to make this finding, well then yes, you need new law.
Will the overturning of the Chevron doctrine also play into this?
That’s another interesting one. So what they have to do now is argue that greenhouse gases might be pollutants, but we don’t have to regulate them. And when they argue that we don’t have to regulate them, they’re going to be asking for a lot of deference. And so in that sense, they’re kind of asking for what Chevron used to give you — deference. But they don’t have Chevron anymore, so they’re going to have to say to the court, You should agree with our reading of this law. This is the best reading of this law, that we don’t have to regulate. They no longer can just say, you ought to defer to us under Chevron.
In that scenario, is it left to the court to decide?
It’s left to the court to say, your reading of the law is right. You have flexibility here, and you can decide you don’t need to regulate. The court would have to agree with their reading of the Clean Air Act.
Isn’t the endangerment finding more of a scientific question than a legal one?
Well, in making that scientific decision about what constitutes a danger to human health, there’s a lot of judgment in there. How do we interpret the science? Is it okay for us to say, well, there are a lot of good things that happen because of climate change? This is what they might do, right? They might say, The EPA, long ago, they ignored all the good stuff about climate change, and we think that’s really important. They might say some ludicrous stuff that leading scientists would think is completely wrong. But there’s some discretion in there about how you count the science and what you weigh, and they’re going to try to get the court to agree that they have a lot of flexibility in what method they use. That means the court will have to agree with them on how they read the law.
So they might say, We have flexibility to interpret the science, and the court might say, No, you don’t, the science is really clear. Then they might say, Okay, well even so, the U.S. contribution is so infinitesimally small that we don’t consider it a contribution to the problem. Now there, the court might say, Okay, you have discretion there. So it’s a little bit of a moving target, where at every opportunity they’re going to say, We have flexibility, don’t you agree?, and hope the court bites on one of those.
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Under the sheet metal it’s basically a Toyota — but maybe that’s okay.
I’ve seen these cupholders before. The same goes for the pair of wireless phone charging mats in this Subaru EV, the wheel that spins to select drive or reverse, and the storage cubby between the driver and shotgun seat with its awkwardly positioned “open” button. Even the big central touchscreen and its software are fundamentally identical to the ones I remember — right down to the navigation system’s voice-activated assistant represented by a weird on-screen bubble.
It’s no coincidence the interior of the new Subaru Trailseeker feels so familiar: I just saw it a couple of months ago while test-driving the Toyota CH-R. The two Japanese carmakers have been co-developing the bones of their electric cars together for several years now. Their dueling lineups of new models are, to a large degree, the same vehicles under the sheet metal: The Toyota CH-R and Subaru Uncharted small crossovers are effectively twins. So, too, are the Subaru Trailseeker I drove this week and the Toyota Bz Woodland, the stretched, outdoorsy version of Toyota’s EV.
Sharing parts and even platforms is nothing new. Car companies have partnered with their rivals in the past to split research and development costs. Subie and Toyota have been following this playbook since the gasoline era; in the 2010s they created a lovely small sports car badged as either the Subaru BRZ or the Scion FR-S (back when Toyota used the Scion brand to sell sportier, more “youthful” cars in America).

But sharing has become a more pressing issue in the era of electric driving, as the legacy car companies look for ways to save money as they spend billions learning how to transition their businesses toward battery power. Honda, the other Japanese auto giant, borrowed the General Motors platform to build the Prologue, its most recent attempt at an EV for America. That car sold competitively with the other non-Tesla EVs in the U.S., demonstrating there were some Honda drivers hungry for their brand to make a new EV. But that approach only got Honda so far. The company’s attempts to build a better EV from the ground up have stalled, and it has now canceled an ambitious slate of planned vehicles.
As for Toyota and Subaru, there is much to be gained from this tactic. If you’re a driver simply pondering whether to switch from the gas-powered Outback to the Trailseeker with your next Subaru purchase, you might not care that electric Subarus are just Toyotas on the inside. Still, sharing technology also raises the question: If a Subaru is just a Toyota under the skin, then is calling the car a Subaru enough for the brand’s devotees? The answer, I think, is a possibly surprising “yes.”
At the simplest level, Subaru’s electric cars do succeed in feeling like distinct vehicles. In this clip, one of Toyota’s lead engineers explains some of the philosophical differences that lead the two companies to build different products on top of the same bones. To simplify: Subaru builds with acceleration and sportiness in mind, while Toyota is more focused on braking and safety.
You can feel the difference. Toyota scales up the power depending on how much you pay, from 168 horsepower in the entry-level Bz to 375 horsepower for the outdoorsy Bz Woodland.

Subaru offers all-wheel-drive and 375 horsepower with every trim level of the Trailseeker, and the car is zippy and eager. The high ground clearance and road trip-ready roof rack certainly makes the EV feel appropriately Subaru. While the other vehicles that came out of this partnership were built at Toyota factories in Japan, Trailseeker (and its Toyota twin) were built at a Subaru factory.
And for a long vehicle with lots of storage space in the back, Trailseeker is pretty efficient. I made a decent 3.5 miles per kilowatt-hour on a highway drive from L.A to Santa Barbara, and the Subaru would top 4 miles per kilowatt-hour at city speeds. That efficiency is important, as it stretches the EV’s real-world range above 250 miles, giving it the legs it needs to visit the far-flung outdoorsy destinations Subaru drivers like to visit.
The trouble with co-development is that Subaru’s EVs, though they are fun and capable vehicles, are stuck with the same problems as Toyota’s. The Subaru also doesn’t feature fun or game-changing EV features like a frunk or one-pedal driving. Owners complain that there’s no way to, say, change the charging maximum to from 80% to 100% once a charging session has started, a simple task that can be accomplished with a tap on a phone app in other vehicles.
The car’s built-in navigation system, meanwhile, can list nearby EV chargers if you know where to ask, but it doesn’t incorporate them into its route planning like a Tesla, Rivian, or even Hyundai would do. This is more annoying than you might think, especially in this muddled moment in charging. Trailseeker, having adopted the Tesla NACS plug that is now becoming the industry standard, can charge at some Superchargers — but Tesla doesn’t allow other brands’ EVs at all of its stations, and you have to check their app to see which are okay. Lots of older third-party charging stations, meanwhile, still use the CCS plug that used to be common on EVs, so you’d need an adapter to plug in the Subaru there. That means that in the Trailseeker, you need either a charging strategy in advance or a co-pilot in the passenger seat checking multiple phone apps for you. (These issues can be solved somewhat by using one’s own apps through Apple CarPlay.)
What the Trailseeker is not, most fundamentally, is a Rivian. When that company teased the R2 and R3 a couple of years ago, we said it had the opportunity to dominate an outdoorsy, all-wheel-drive space in the car market that was more or less vacant because Subaru had dragged its feet on electrifying, having released only the disappointing Solterra. R2 is finally available, and compared to Trailseeker, the Rivian is much closer to the Tesla model of what an EV should be — its interface is far more sophisticated, and foundationally, it just feels so much more like a vehicle that was built from the ground up to be electric, not a car built by a legacy automaker still trying to figure out what an EV should be.
But here’s the thing: A lot of drivers, including plenty of Subaru lifers, don’t want the Tesla model. This Reddit post nicely captures the tension: EV-focused reviewers like me invariably notice what’s missing in a vehicle like Trailseeker compared to other electric cars. When you compare the Subie to gas-powered vehicles, though, you notice what’s there — the basic competencies like off-road ruggedness, roof racks, and honest-to-goodness door handles that make people love Subarus in the first place.
The price doesn’t hurt, either. Trailseeker’s key performance features — all-wheel drive, 375 horsepower, 280 miles of maximum range — are available on the simplest version that starts at $39,995, while the top-of-the-line $46,555 version gets more creature comforts. Toyota doesn’t sell an entry-level version of the Trailseeker’s twin, the Bz Woodland, only a fully-decked out edition that’s more than $45,000. Rivian’s fancier versions of R2, by contrast, cost well into the $50,000, with a $45,000 base model due in 2027.
Trailseeker, in other words, is a reasonably affordable, good EV that just works — and that you can buy at the same dealership across town that sold you your last two Outbacks. Which is all a lot of Subaru drivers ever really wanted.
Current conditions: The Pacific is facing a traffic jam of storms, with Hurricane Karina, Tropical Storm Lowell, and Tropical Storm Marie all raging at once • Temperatures in Charlotte, North Carolina, America’s secondary banking capital after New York, are nearing 100 degrees Fahrenheit amid a regionwide heatwave • Tropical Storm Edouard knocked out power from more than 81,000 households in Texas and Louisiana.
Call it the scramble for Caracas. For the first time since the dawn of the 21st century, the South American nation with the world’s largest known oil reserves is open for business to Americans. Eight months after U.S. forces arrested former dictator Nicolás Maduro in his home and Washington backed his vice president, Delcy Rodriguez, as the new leader, Venezuela is becoming a hotbed for American energy companies. On Wednesday, Chevron announced plans to double its production in Venezuela with a $7 billion investment. “We were trying to work at what I call Trump speed,” Secretary of Energy Chris Wright said at a signing ceremony at the Miraflores Palace, according to The Wall Street Journal. “President Trump didn’t want a nudge or a slow drift in a positive direction. He wanted to see as fast as possible a transformation in Venezuela.”
The energy equipment behemoth GE Vernova, meanwhile, inked its own deal to repair large portions of Venezuela’s power grid, Bloomberg reported.

U.S. exports of liquified natural gas averaged 17.4 billion cubic feet per day in the first six months of this year, 23% more than the same period in 2025, according to the latest analysis by the U.S. Energy Information Administration. The agency projected that overseas sales will mostly stay flat through the end of the year before rising to 18.7 billion cubic feet per day in the first half of 2027. The world demands lots of gas right now. The biggest impediment to selling more is capacity. New and expanded export terminals “boosted LNG exports at the fastest rate since the United States began large-scale exports in 2016,” EIA found.
While natural gas and gasoline are different fuels entirely, the boom in the export market for one has come during a domestic price surge for the other. Diesel is selling for $5.69 per gallon, according to AAA data. Regular gas is now averaging $4.12 per gallon nationwide. But diesel is particularly worrying. As my colleague Matthew Zeitlin wrote last month, “now is the worst time for diesel to get expensive,” since it’s a critical moment in farmers’ growing seasons when tractors and other equipment need fuel.
The fashion industry, particularly the cheaply-made fast-fashion brands, are notorious for pollution. Typically that comes in the form of dyed rivers and microplastics from polyester fibers. But the planet-heating gases coming from the apparel sector are on the rise. Emissions climbed 6.3% in 2024, following a 7.5% spike the previous year, according to a new report by the Apparel Impact Institute. That, according to Bloomberg, increased fashion’s emissions by roughly a gigaton, or “about the same as the entire climate footprint of Japan.”
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SB Energy, the division of the Japanese giant Softbank that’s focused on building the infrastructure for artificial intelligence, is seeing such a boom it’s going public. Chip behemoth Nvidia is backing the deal to start trading the stock on the Nasdaq. “The reason Nvidia is on our part of the equation here is that, you know, helps us to unlock things like investment-grade financing. It helps to ensure the project is a success,” SB Energy CEO Rich Hossfeld told CNBC.
Still, the company cautioned that it “may face community opposition, local moratoria, and hyper-local dissent, including growing public resistance to AI and AI-related infrastructure.” Polling from Heatmap Pro last month showed that three-quarters of Americans now oppose data centers in their backyards.
To put it in the modern parlance of today’s youth: Japan’s nuclear sector used to mog most of its peers in East Asia. When the 2011 Fukushima accident occurred, Japan got the ick on atomic energy. Now it’s once again ascending to nuclear maxing — er, nuclearmaxxing. On Wednesday, NucNet reported that a high-level Japanese council chaired by the prime minister adopted a new policy that calls for “maximum use” of atomic energy in the country.
Russia, meanwhile, is leaning into floating nuclear power plants. The country launched the world’s first small modular reactor in 2019 aboard the Akademik Lomonosov, a Siberia-bound barge designed to carry a power plant. In May, I told you that Rosatom was considering building more. On Wednesday, World Nuclear News reported that the Kremlin-controlled nuclear company is establishing a facility specifically designed to produce floating nuclear plants.
Maersk is going old school. The shipping giant just signed a deal to install the first wind sail on a container ship as the shipping industry looks for ways to get off heavily-emitting bunker fuel. The sail, according to the Financial Times, is a 115-foot rotor designed by the British company Anemoi to function without taking up a lot of space in the areas where containers go.
The Pacific Northwest fire season is about to get even worse.
I turned on the heat this week for the first time since spring. Tuesday started out mild, damp, and overcast here in Seattle — the kind of weather the city still conjures in the popular imagination, even if about 50 days a year now are warmer than they used to be because of climate change. Summers here may be getting longer, but this morning felt truly like fall, and in the uninsulated shed where I do most of my writing, I briefly turned on the space heater to stave off the nip.
The same slow-moving low-pressure system responsible for the moody weather in the Puget Sound region will also go far in curbing the state’s wildfires, per Tuesday’s update to the National Wildland Significant Fire Potential Outlook. It’s almost obscenely good luck: September is historically one of the worst times of year for wildfire in the Pacific Northwest, after the summer’s high temperatures have dried out all the fuels but before the autumn rains arrive.
Worse still, though, is the tax on wildland firefighters. They call the month “Snaptember” because the physical and mental health effects of a long firefighting season begin to catch up with the more than 21,000 of them currently on assignment. That is especially true in a year like 2026, the worst fire season in the Pacific Northwest in 30 years. Nationwide, more than 8.2 million acres have burned, 164% of the 10-year average for this point in the year. The National Preparedness Level has sat at its highest level, 5, since mid-July, meaning that fire resources, personnel, and the seasonal hires who make up the bulk of the workforce are stretched to their absolute limit. There is no breathing room — 68 fires ignited yesterday alone, following 140 new ignitions on Monday. Some of the crews fighting the country’s biggest fires have come from as far away as New Zealand to help out.
The good news: The wet start to the month will drop the Pacific Northwest from above-average to normal fire potential for the first half of September, offering a much-needed break. But the brief weather pattern won’t undo August’s damage, including below-average rainfall across the region and the spread of “exceptional drought.” Temperatures ran as much as 8 degrees above average in parts of Oregon, and in southwest Idaho, an abundance of dried juniper, grasses, and shrubs has created, in fire-industry parlance, “an above-average fully cured fine fuel crop” — in normal terms, that means there’s a lot of tinder ready to burn. The entire state of Washington is under a precautionary burn ban until the end of the month.
What follows could be truly nasty. “Outlooks favor above-normal temperatures with no indication of a sustained wet pattern, meaning drying may quickly resume once the early September systems depart,” Tuesday’s report reads. Making matters worse, “Historical analogs and past transitions into El Niño,” such as the one we’re in now, “suggest an elevated likelihood of at least one moderately strong east‑wind day in September, further reinforcing opportunity for new significant fires to arise when lightning or human ignitions occur.” A similar situation — east, downslope winds and summer-cured dry fuels — compounded into the disastrous September fires of 2020, which burned over 11% of the entire Oregon Cascades ecoregion. (While El Niño historically produces above-average temperatures and lower rainfall in the Northwest in the fall, the greatest impacts will like come after the report’s outlook period.)
Drought now covers 57% of the country, and other regions could also pop off this month, further drawing on limited resources. The report highlighted northern California, the southern Plains, the Lower Mississippi Valley, and Florida as other regions with above-average fire potential heading into September. In the Southern Area in particular, which includes Texas, Oklahoma, Arkansas, Louisiana, Mississippi, and southwestern Alabama, the suppressed Atlantic hurricane season has resulted in extreme drought “second only to the last very strong El Niño of 2015,” the report found. Above-average significant fire potential could “very well continue” as late as November.
By then, at least, the Northwest will have “probabilities for more organized storm systems,” particularly beginning in the second half of October, when precipitation will hopefully pick back up. Imagine that: Looking forward to the winter drizzle, which was once the great drawback of living in the Northwest.
But by the time Snaptember is through with us, I worry that those cold, dark, wet days of December will feel far away yet.