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“You can’t just divest from the eco-right after the election,” contends Johannes Ackva of Founder Pledge.

Johannes Ackva likes a contrarian bet. Back in 2020, when he launched the climate program at Founders Pledge, a nonprofit that connects entrepreneurs to philanthropic causes, he sought out “surgical interventions” to support technologies that didn’t already enjoy the widespread popularity of wind turbines and solar panels, such as advanced nuclear reactors and direct air carbon capture.
By late 2023, however, the Biden administration’s legislative sweep was directing billions to the very range of technologies Ackva previously saw as neglected. So he turned his attention to shoring up those political wins.
The modern climate movement came into its own demanding that the world stop shrinking from inconvenient truths. But as polls increasingly showed the 2024 election trending toward Republicans, Ackva saw few funders propping up advocates with any influence over the GOP. Founders Pledge pumped millions into Deploy/US, a climate group where former Republican Representative Carlos Curbelo of Florida served as the top adviser, which then distributed the money to upward of 30 right-leaning climate groups, including the American Conservation Coalition and the Evangelical Environmental Network.
The bipartisan gamble paid off. In April 2024, Founders Pledge received an anonymous $40 million donation to bolster its efforts. Now an anonymous donor has granted Founders Pledge’s climate fund another $50 million, Heatmap has learned.
Founders Pledge declined to say whether the money came from the same unnamed source or separate donors. But the influx of funding has “radically transformed our ability to make large grants,” Ackva told me, noting that the budget before 2024 came out to about $10 million per year.
“The word exponential is overused,” he said. “But that’s roughly the trajectory.”
Amid the so-called green freeze that followed the Trump administration’s rollback of climate funding, Founders Pledge has joined other climate philanthropies in stepping in to back projects that have lost money. When Breakthrough Energy shuttered its climate program in March, Founders Pledge gave $3.5 million to serve as the primary funding for the launch of the Innovation Initiative, started by former staff from the Bill Gates-backed nonprofit.
Ackva said his organization is looking to invest in climate efforts across the political spectrum. But Founders Pledge’s focus on right-of-center groups wasn’t an election-year gimmick.
“You can’t just divest from the eco-right after the election,” he said. “That’s not an authentic way to build a civil society ecosystem.”
As Republicans in Congress proceed with their gutting of green funding, including through Trump’s One Big, Beautiful Bill Act, Ackva said it’s too soon to say whether the political strategy is paying off.
“If you think of grantmaking as making bets, some bets exceed others sooner, but that doesn’t make them bad bets,” Ackva told me. “Ultimately, philanthropy cannot define how a given policy goes. You can adjust the probabilities, maybe level the bets. But obviously it’s larger forces at play that shape how the One Big, Beautiful Bill gets made.”
The Senate may save or even expand parts of the IRA that support baseload power, e.g. nuclear and geothermal. But regardless, Ackva said, climate advocates are making a mistake training their focus so intently on the fate of this one law.
“It’s kind of the only thing that’s being discussed,” he said.
Meanwhile the Infrastructure Investment and Jobs Act, better known as the Bipartisan Infrastructure Law, is set for reauthorization next fall. The Energy Act of 2020 is slated for renewal this year. And funding for the Department of Energy is up for debate as the White House now pushes to expand the Loan Programs Office’s lending authority for nuclear projects by $750 million.
“Those are things we would see as at least as important as the Inflation Reduction Act,” Ackva said.
Given those deadlines, Ackva said he expected other donors to press advocates for plans last year on how to sway Republicans toward more ambitious bills this Congress. But after former Vice President Kamala Harris took over the Democratic ticket last year, he said he’d heard from his grantees “that they were asked what they were going to do with a Harris trifecta.”
“Everyone was betting on Harris to win,” he said. “There’s a very strong ideological lean among climate funders to a degree that was frankly a little bit shocking.”
The partisan divide over climate wasn’t always so pronounced. In 2008, the Republican presidential nominee, John McCain, ran on a more ambitious decarbonization platform than what President Barack Obama proposed in the White House.
There are dueling — though not mutually exclusive — narratives about how the American climate movement over-indexed on one side of the political spectrum. Both stories start in 2010.
The version liberals and leftists will find familiar is one that blames fossil fuel megadonors such as Charles and David Koch for aggressively promoting climate denial among Republican lawmakers.
The version told by Ted Nordhaus, the founder of the Breakthrough Institute think tank where Ackva got his start years before joining Founders Pledge, starts with the failure of the Obama-era cap-and-trade bill to pass through Congress.
When the legislation “went up in flames in 2010,” Nordhaus told me, a bunch of environmental philanthropies hired Harvard professor Theda Skocpol to author a 145-page report on what triggered the blaze.
“The report concluded that the problem is we were too focused on the technocratic, inside-the-Beltway stuff,” Nordhaus summarized. “We needed to build political power so the next time there’s an opportunity to do big climate policy, we would have the political power to put a price on carbon.”
Out of that finding came what Nordhaus called the “two-pronged, boots-on-the-ground” era of the movement, which backed college campus campaigns to divest from fossil fuels and also efforts to prevent new fossil fuel infrastructure such as the Keystone XL pipeline.
Reasonable people could debate the fiduciary merits of scrapping investments in natural gas companies or the value of blocking oil infrastructure whose cancellation spurred more shipments of crude on rail lines that face higher risk of a spill or explosion than pipelines. But once supporting fossil fuel divestment or opposing pipelines became the key litmus tests activists used to determine if a Democrat running for office took climate change seriously, the issue became more ideological.
“That made it impossible for any Democrat to become a moderate on climate, and made it impossible for any Republican to be a moderate on climate,” Nordhaus said. “The Republican Party has its own craziness and radicalism, but a bunch of that is negative polarization.”
To fund an effective “climate right,” Nordhaus said, Founders Pledge should seek out groups that don’t explicitly focus on the climate or environment at all.
“I’d be looking at which groups are all-in on U.S. natural gas, which has been the biggest driver of decarbonization in the U.S. over the last 15 years; which groups are all in and really doing work on nuclear; and which groups are doing work on permitting reform,” Nordhaus said. “That’s how you’re going to make progress with Republicans.”
I asked Ackva where the line would be for funding an eco right. Would Founders Pledge back groups that — like some green-leaning elements of Italian Prime Minister Giorgia Meloni’s party or allies of France’s Marine Le Pen — support draconian restrictions on immigration in the name of reducing national emissions from the increased population?
“That would not be appropriate,” Ackva told me. “When we say we’re funding the eco right, like when we’re funding groups on the left or in the center, the things they are proposing don’t need to be exactly the things we will be prioritizing, but they need to be plausible, high-impact solutions.”
To Emmet Penney, a senior fellow focused on energy at the right-leaning Foundation for American Innovation, it’s an obvious play. The green left that has long dominated climate policy debates “is premised on aggressive permitting and environmental law that makes it impossible to actually build anything useful toward addressing the things they’re most afraid of.”
“It’s become clear to anyone who wants to build anything that what the environmental left has to offer simply doesn't work,” he told me. “Naturally, more centrist organizations who might not even otherwise be slated as right-wing now look that way and are becoming increasingly attractive to people who are interested in building.”
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There are lots of reasons why that might seem like a good idea, but I urge you to learn from my mistakes.
All I wanted was to drive an electric car to the solar eclipse. But after the third consecutive charging port RFID reader wouldn’t accept my credit card and finding that the employees inside the attached Spanish hotel restaurant mostly didn’t speak English, I began to feel as though, just maybe, this hadn’t been my best idea.
Opting for an EV as a rental car can be an attractive proposition. For a longtime electric driver like me, it’s the opportunity to avoid car emissions even when on holiday, and to try out the experience in another country. For others, it could be a way to save money while on vacation in countries with even more expensive gasoline than America’s, or perhaps to try out electric driving before taking the plunge on buying an EV back home.
My advice, though? Don’t — at least not yet. The reason is that road-tripping on vacation is not only different from the driving you do back home, it’s also the worst kind for using an EV, especially for a newbie. The experience might lead you to believe, incorrectly, that the EV experience is just like this.
I admit, I had high hopes. Europe as a whole is far ahead of the United States in EV adoption, and its denser built environment means fewer long, open expanses between the kinds of cities that would have charging stations. Spain isn’t nearly as far along with EVs as the Scandinavian or the low countries, where electric cars are already a majority of cars on the road, or nearly there. But it is ahead of the U.S. So I figured driving around the country to see the total solar eclipse in a Peugeot E-5008 electric SUV would be a manageable task.
The first problem is time. Here in California, I’ve come to terms with the fact that driving long distances in an EV adds minutes. There’s simply no way to replicate the five-minute pump-and-go gas station stop, but when it comes to dealing with the slog of freeway travel from L.A. to the Bay Area, for example, I’ve come to enjoy taking a longer charging stop to breathe as opposed to making the best possible time on a car trip. On vacation, though, there’s no time to lose.
And it’s not just charging itself that takes time. Unless you rent a Tesla and enjoy the seamless experience of its Superchargers, you’re stuck with the same annoyances that have vexed so many EV early adopters in the U.S.: busted chargers, hit-or-miss credit card readers, and juggling a variety of phone apps to interact with all the various brands of charging stations one might encounter. It’s also, frankly, just mentally taxing to think about all this in a new country and a new car, the very opposite of what most people seek on holiday.
Driving abroad intensifies these grievances. In just five days of driving around Spain, I racked up five new phone apps dedicated to charging the car on different networks. (Electromaps! Movilidad! PowerGo! EnelEnergy! Zunder!). Sometimes this was out of desperation: I parked, plugged, and scanned multiple credit cards that the machine would not accept, finding pay-by-phone to be the only way to activate the machine. Of course, signing up for a new app is a 10-minute process that involves typing in endless fields of personal information just to add a few kilowatt-hours to one’s car battery. Not great when you’re already running behind, and doubly problematic if you had no or little cell service abroad and couldn’t download the necessary app at that moment. (Death to walled-off apps.)
Those chargers that did work typically ran far below their stated capacity, in the range of 70 kilowatts to 90 kilowatts of charging speed as opposed to the 180 kilowatts or 350 kilowatts they were rated to deliver. And when plugs are scarce, you have to take what you can get in terms of speed and amenities. I was overjoyed to find one that worked without much hassle in Basque Country — even though I had to ask one of the gas station employees to move her Volkswagen Passat that was ICEing a charger, and encountered an industrial stench from nearby petroleum production so strong I nearly vomited when I got out of the car.
The EV culture can be different, too. I’d hoped to charge at the plugs located in the parking garage of my hotel in Bilbao, Spain, but arrived home too late after eclipse traveling and found the lot full and locked. The nearby underground structure had plenty of charging spaces, but those were bring-your-own-cable chargers — something common in Europe that’s only now coming to the United States.
Despite the difficulties, the trip went off. We saw the spiritual experience of the eclipse through the cloudless skies of Burgos; we traveled around northern Spain without once having to buy gasoline at European prices. And while an inconvenient experience like this might be enough to dissuade someone from ever taking a chance on EVs again, it shouldn’t.
There’s a dichotomy in the electric car experience I’ve talked about ad nauseum. As detractors say, taking long road trips can be kind of annoying, and those annoyances run deeper in unfamiliar territory. But most of us don’t drive like we’re on vacation most of the time. We do our driving close to home, where electric cars are a better and more convenient experience if you can do much of your charging at home or work. Public charging still takes time. But in your own city and state, you already know the nearby ones you like and have all the necessary apps downloaded and filled out.
A more seamless time is coming, when charging stations are abundant everywhere and a simple, idiot-proof interface for plugging in is the standard. Until then, you’ll probably have a more relaxing vacation burning fossil fuels. Just don’t let that stop you from buying an EV.
Current conditions: Tropical Storm Moke sideswiped Hawaii yesterday just weeks after a weakened Hurricane Lala became the first major storm to hit the Big Island in decades • On the western fringe of the United States’ Pacific borders, Typhoon Saudel struck Guam and the Northern Mariana Islands over the weekend, bringing heavy rain and flooding • Temperatures in Khorramshahr, on Iran’s border with Iraq, are topping 118 degrees Fahrenheit, rendering the southwestern port city the hottest place on Earth.
With water levels in reservoirs across the American West at record lows, the Trump administration has directed Arizona, California, and Nevada to cut back on how much water they use from the Colorado River over the next two years. On Friday, the Department of the Interior imposed the reductions via a series of documents detailing a two-year and a 10-year plan to salvage the supplies from the drought-stricken river fed by snowmelt from Colorado’s stretch of the Rocky Mountains. As climate change has shifted snow patterns, levels on the river have dropped. Yet the seven states that depend on the water — the aforementioned three in the Lower Basin, and Colorado, New Mexico, Utah, and Wyoming in the Upper Basin — could not come to agreement among themselves on how to divvy up the dwindling supply. Instead, the Interior Department came up with a proposal that forced the Lower Basin states to pare back first. As you may recall, Arizona’s Democratic governor called the cuts “draconian” when the administration released its proposal in early August. The plan, which imposes short-term cuts while leaving a larger split for later, sets the stage for what E&E News predicted would be “a behemoth legal fight.”
When the Department of Energy announced a review last year of droves of grants the Biden administration had given for clean industrial projects, the nation’s leading green steel project appeared on the chopping block. Cleveland-Cliffs, the steel giant based in Vice President JD Vance’s hometown in Ohio, said it was renegotiating the $500 million grant that was supposed to fund construction of a modern, integrated mill that could increase U.S. steel production and allow the country to compete with China in selling lower-carbon material to Europe. More than a year later, the deal has finally been renegotiated. As expected, the money will now go instead toward upgrading a coal-fired blast furnace at the Middletown Works plant, Canary Media reported on Friday. Never mind the fact that Congress promulgated the money specifically for lower-carbon steel, making the shift “possibly illegal,” as my colleague Emily Pontecorvo reported last year.
Congestion costs on PJM Interconnection skyrocketed 43% to $6 billion during the first half of this year, up from $2.1 billion during the same period of 2025. That’s according to the grid’s independent watchdog, which last week warned that bottlenecks on high-voltage transmission lines during high-stress events such as storms or heat waves were now what Reuters put bluntly as “the single biggest driver of the increase in soaring wholesale electricity costs.” Across the U.S., July’s electricity bills were, in the frank words of Heatmap’s Matthew Zeitlin, “higher than ever.”
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Last week, the uranium miner Ur-Energy sent the first shipment from its mine in Wyoming, World Nuclear News reported Friday. That same day, the American subsidiary of the European uranium giant Urenco broke ground on its latest facility in the U.S., NucNet reported. Downstream, meanwhile, Standard Nuclear — a fuel manufacturer specializing in extra-expensive but extra-safe ceramic-coated fuel pellets called TRISO, which I have written about previously— just cut another deal with a major vendor.
I have a confession. Nearly a decade ago, I sat at my sister’s kitchen counter in Massachusetts after she gave birth to my niece, trying to write about the latest technology to come out from Tesla. Not yet burdened by its billionaire chief executive’s political baggage, the company was largely seen at the time as subverting preconceptions about the popularity of electric vehicles. Tesla’s erstwhile absorption of Musk’s former solar manufacturer, Solar City, only cemented the company’s status as an industry leader in producing and deploying panels domestically. The conventional wisdom, at least among some industry analysts at the time, was that any bet against Tesla was an ill-advised gamble against the lucky Mr. Musk. So, I wrote about it as a breakthrough. But the solar-generating roof tiles the company unveiled that fall when I was in New England turned out to be little more than a passing fantasy. Now Electrek has reported that the company plans to discontinue the product.

Say what you will about Spain’s solar records or America’s gas surge, nothing quite matches the enormous surge of power that is a new hydroelectric station. This week, Tanzania christened its largest-ever hydroelectric station, the Julius Nyerere Hydropower Dam, named for the country’s revolutionary first prime minister after independence. Mwananchi, the country’s largest newspaper, said the plant’s launch “opened a new chapter in Tanzania’s energy sector.”
The only other U.S. state to have a chief heat officer? Arizona.
The past three months will go down in the books as the hottest meteorological summer on record in Boston — but that is not a record that’s likely to stand long. At 3.5 degrees Fahrenheit of warming since 1970, Massachusetts has outpaced the national average by half a degree; by 2050, researchers expect the state will see more than two-dozen 90-plus-degree days every year. According to a 2023 climate report, that could result in as many as 400 excess deaths in the Commonwealth annually.
Now it’s someone’s job to do something about it. In mid-August, Massachusetts Governor Maura Healey announced the appointment of the state’s first heat resilience officer, making the Commonwealth only the second state in the country to have such a position — after the much more obvious choice, Arizona. (Healey is up for reelection this year, but the race is largely expected to be uncompetitive.) The inaugural role has gone to Katie Schlick, who most recently headed the resilience portfolio at the U.S. Climate Alliance and previously served as a special assistant to Ali Zaidi, the White House’s national climate advisor under Joe Biden.
I caught up with Schlick at the end of her first full week on the job to learn more about what leading heat resilience in a state like Massachusetts will look like in practice. Our conversation has been lightly edited and condensed.
Why does Massachusetts need a heat resilience officer?
This role was established because Governor Healy has seen the science and the public health data on heat risk in the state and worldwide. But she’s also heard from, felt, and understands the lived experiences of communities all across Massachusetts who are really dangerously impacted by extreme heat — and increasingly so.
We know that extreme heat is the No. 1 killer across all other extreme weather events, and that fact holds true not just for the United States but also globally. July was the hottest month ever recorded, and the last three years are the hottest ever recorded in human history. And heat waves in cities are about 46 days longer than they were in the 1960s.
Those are the trends that we’re seeing in the science. But we’ve also seen tons of impacts in the state. Massachusetts itself has warmed about 3.5 degrees Fahrenheit over the last century, and then we’re expecting those numbers to double, if not triple, in the coming decades. We saw 1,500 heat-related emergency room visits in 2025 alone, and we’re seeing higher numbers of visits on unhealthy heat days. We have heat island communities and heat equity communities in the state that are literally degrees hotter because of decades of complicated history. One in five public schools in the Commonwealth don’t have air conditioning, and that only not only impacts learning, but also, when school is closed because it’s too hot to keep the kids and the the staff in the building, then that means parents and guardians have to leave their jobs and figure out child care, which impacts the economy. There are projections that about 20% of the workforce in Massachusetts is exposed in some way to extreme heat, and that impacts work hours, productivity and the economy. And, of course, there are tons of impacts to our natural environment, crop losses in the agriculture sector.
I’ve been calling these the geographies of heat resilience, and I think what we’ve seen from the governor is an understanding that this means we need to put the full weight of the state government behind solutions. It will be a whole government, whole of community process, assessing what the work is that’s already been done to date — and we’ve seen a lot of great stuff coming out of the Department of Public Health, with their different extreme heat initiatives and a lot of good data tracking. Even just in these past two weeks or so, as I’m getting up to speed, there’s a lot of real energy and momentum and excitement from partners all across the state, academia, community organizations, local governments, and regional organizations, who have also seen this problem and are really eager to be part of the solution.
Speaking of academia, I spoke earlier this week to Professor John Rogan at Clark University about the role forests and trees play in cooling communities, particularly in western Massachusetts. Are nature-based solutions part of what you’re considering?
I’m glad you brought him up, because last week we had an event at Clark University, which is the home to the HERO program. It’s been operating for several decades now in Worcester, and I spoke to some of the students last week who were out there all summer researching different types of trees — both if they are resilient themselves to the impacts of hotter temperatures, but also the shade cover, and is it impacting and increasing or decreasing the temperature of different neighborhoods?
What they found is, shade from trees can cool down certain areas and neighborhoods by several degrees, as can white roofs and greener spaces. And not only does it cool an area down, which means that you’re hopefully able to spend less on your electricity bill, but having greener spaces creates safer communities and contributes to public safety. It is also a great space for families to go out and hang out. Nature-based solutions are something I’m excited to dig into, and something that I know our climate chief is really passionate about as well.
One of the big things about heat is that it’s a hyperlocal issue. How are you thinking about that in Massachusetts, where you have large cities and quieter suburbs and remote towns spread across the state?
That’s why this role is positioned at the state level. We’ve seen across the country that there are different regional approaches to heat, and I think that’s important as well — we’ll be leaning into working with our regional and local partners and community organizations — but it’s also important to have someone at the state level who can coordinate all of this, and make sure that there is attention for all the different pieces. Even just last week, during our [Clark University event], we were talking about the rural areas and different research that is showing how even if they might be a little bit cooler right now, because they don’t have the urban effect, eventually those temperature levels are going level out, so they’ll see hotter temperatures as well. So we need to take a whole of state approach. We have an understanding of the social issues and impacts around heat, like school closures, job loss, and impacts to productivity, as well as the health and safety needs and trends, and we’re paying attention to all of the above.
How does the region’s older housing stock affect your approach to heat resilience in the state?
One of the big challenges that we see in the Northeast for living with climate change is that our built environment was generally constructed to keep people warm during intense winters. Now we are having to do a lot of thinking on the loan side about making sure our housing stock and our buildings are resilient to all sorts of climate impacts, whether that be extreme winds or hail or other types of storms and flooding, but also how it can keep people cool during instances of extreme heat.
One of the things we’ll be thinking through is different solutions to decarbonizing our building stock. We want to make sure that people have access to air conditioning, but we also want to make sure they can afford to pay their electricity bill. But we’ve seen rates skyrocket, and that’s one of the hottest topics these days. We want to make sure that we have access to cooling, not just for homeowners, but also for tenants. If someone can’t get access to that in the near term, do we have community cooling centers? Do they have transit to them? And are they aware of where they are? And do we have good community leaders that can help us maintain those?
Again, going back to schools, we’ve seen under this federal administration a huge slash of the funding that went out under the Biden administration for greener schools. We want to make sure that schools are decarbonizing, but also that they are safe and healthy for students to be in and learn in, even on the hottest and smokiest of days. And there are a lot of cool solutions for decarbonizing buildings in general, whether it be with weatherization, insulation, other types of retrofits, cool roofs, or heat pumps — which is something the governor has championed, and I think a good example of how we can think through incentives for different technologies that are more cost effective and easily implementable.
What most excites you about this job, at the end of your first full week? What projects are you most excited to tackle?
For a long time, I’ve loved working on climate resilience issues. I’m such a climate policy person in general, both on the mitigation and the resilience side. But I think resilience in particular reminds us that it’s not just doom and gloom that we’re experiencing, but also hope and possibilities. It’s about leaning into partnership and innovation.
We’ll be establishing a council that will help us get our arms around the breadth of this challenge. We’ll be putting together a plan that also outlines our levers for change across state and local government, and our opportunities for action. But when I think about the different metrics of success for this role at a high level over the next couple of years, we’re hoping to make cooling solutions more affordable for the people of Massachusetts. We want access to clean and cool air, even on the hottest and smokiest days. Wherever you are, we want to see lower school cancellations from heat, and lower emergency room visits, and better health outcomes. We want people to feel more educated on the risks from heat and trained up on how they can respond to them, no matter what their field is. We want to see more heat pumps deployed, and safer workplaces, whether you work inside or outside. We want local governments to feel ready and prepared in the face of something like extreme heat.
All of those are opportunities for action, and to pull in people from across the state to be a part of the solution.