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Now back at the University of Pennsylvania, she talks to Heatmap about community engagement, gaps in the decarbonization market, and goats.

In November of 2020, Jennifer Wilcox had just moved to Philadelphia and was preparing to start a new chapter in her career as a tenured “Presidential Distinguished Professor” at the University of Pennsylvania. Then she got the call: Wilcox was asked to join the incoming Biden administration as the principal deputy assistant secretary for the Office of Fossil Energy, a division of the Department of Energy.
Wilcox had never even heard of the Office of Fossil Energy and was somewhat uneasy about the title. A chemical engineer by training, Wilcox had dedicated her work to climate solutions. She was widely known for having written the first textbook on carbon capture, published in 2012, and for her trailblazing research into removing carbon dioxide from the atmosphere. With Penn’s blessing, she decided to take the job. And in the just over three years she was in office, she may have altered the course of U.S. climate action forever.
First, Wilcox led a total transformation of the department to align it with the Biden administration’s climate goals. She started by arranging 15-minute meetings with each of the nearly 150 employees who worked with her at the D.C. office to understand their perspectives on their work, whether they were happy, and their fears and challenges. She admits she can be intense.
“I took all that information, and I sat on it with many weekends and a blank piece of paper and a pencil and drew crazy diagrams,” she told me, trying to funnel everyone’s feedback into a new vision for the department.
Previously, the Office of Fossil Energy’s primary function was to support research into oil, gas, and coal extraction and use. Wilcox flipped the mission on its head, reorganizing the department into one that would support research, development, and deployment of solutions that reduced dependency on those resources and minimized their environmental impacts. By July, she had codified that mission in a new name — the Office of Fossil Energy and Carbon Management.
Wilcox maxed out her leave this spring. I caught up with her about a week after she left the DOE, as she was picking up where she left off — preparing for her first semester as a professor of chemical engineering and energy policy at Penn. She’s also starting a new side gig as chief scientist at Isometric, a carbon credit certification company that’s trying to improve trust in carbon removal measurement and verification through rigorous standards and transparency.
I asked her to reflect on her time at the Department of Energy, the changes she oversaw, and what she’s looking to do next. Our conversation has been edited for length and clarity.
When was your last day at DOE? Did you leave because you had an obligation to come back to Penn?
My last day was Friday, May 31, so just a week or so ago. Typically, when you’re in an academic tenured position, you can have a maximum of a two-year leave. Within the first year of my appointment at DOE, the Bipartisan Infrastructure Law went through, and then in the second year, the IRA went through — the Inflation Reduction Act. And I was like, this is big stuff. It felt like just a defining moment — in my career, but also in terms of climate legislation. And I thought, how could I possibly leave now? So I went back to Penn and I wrote, I thought, a pretty thoughtful letter of the impact that I could have if I could stay just a year and a half longer. And they said yes.
Could you share the story of how you were asked to go work for the department in the first place?
Sure, it’s pretty funny. Something that many people don’t know is we have a small farm — we had 22 acres in Massachusetts, and goats and a pig and chickens and oh my goodness. Penn was like, “We’ll move your goats, too,” and so we moved everybody. And here I am at the kitchen table amidst boxes, and the goats are outside, and I’m on my laptop, and I get this email from the Biden-Harris transition team. I was like, ain’t nobody got time for that. That’s spam. Delete! And then a couple days go by and I get another one, and I was like, come on. Is this real? And I forwarded it to my husband. He’s an ER doctor, and he’s like, “Honey, that’s real. You have to respond!” And so I sent my CV.
One of the first things you did was rename the department. How did that happen?
When I came in, it was really early days of, okay, net zero by 2050, and there was a question of, what does that mean for our office? Should this office exist in a net zero world? I knew that I was being recruited to think about reshaping, rethinking the portfolio.
We only had two R&D offices at the time. One was called Oil and Gas — we renamed that Office of Resource Sustainability. The other was literally the Office of Coal. What I decided to do was take that program and move it over. That whole office is all about, if you’re choosing to extract energy resources from the Earth, how do you do it in a way that’s minimal impact?
Now, what’s left is how you manage the pollution of how we use fossil fuels — that’s the carbon dioxide. And so we built out a whole new division on carbon removal. We teased out a whole program on hydrogen, and then we also separated out carbon conversion into its own division, and then carbon transport and storage. And so rather than one program focused on carbon, we had five, which is pretty cool. I mean, the amount that I was empowered and supported — and by the way, we got it all through without a single pushback, in nine months. So that was huge.
How would you characterize how the field changed from the time that you entered the office until now? Have research questions changed? Have policy priorities changed?
I think things are starting to change. One of the things from these last few years of having the resources that have started to become mobilized, it’s helping us to recognize where the gaps really are. When you have money to be able to put out for certain topic areas, you get to see who’s going to apply, and who applies gives you an indication of where the technology is at and how much of it’s ready.
For instance, if you look at the $3.5 billion for direct air capture hubs, we had to write the funding opportunity announcement to meet industry where they’re at. There’s only a couple of companies that are really even at a stage where they can start to think about demonstration on the tens of thousands of tons of removal, let alone a million tons per year.
Some of the gaps that we saw were, in direct air capture, making sure that there’s enough companies that are supported to be able to get us to the scale that we need to. And then for the other approaches to carbon removal, making sure that if we want these projects to be durable, in terms of carbon removed on a time scale that impacts climate, we need to figure out how to quantify the net carbon that’s removed.
And then one significant gap that we saw that we are trying to fill with this funding: When we think about corporations and net zero pledges, a lot of times the carbon removal purchasing is associated with Scope 3 emissions that companies don’t have the ability to control. These are supply chains. It could be paper, it could be fuel, food, glass, cement, steel. And so looking at that whole sector, it’s about 10 different industrial sectors that we need to figure out how to decarbonize. If we can think about decarbonizing these supply chains, it’ll take some of the pressure off of the carbon removals to counterbalance those.
The last piece that I feel like gets forgotten is, in the infrastructure law, we had $2.5 billion for building out geologic storage. That’s an issue because you can do the carbon capture, but the big question is, where are you going to put it? And can you get it from point A to point B? We have a whole program called CarbonSAFE that essentially shepherds the industry through the process, starting with characterization all the way to a class six permit from EPA. Building that capacity out means that’s one less thing that industry has to worry about as they’re looking at carbon capture.
During your time there, the department was interfacing with hundreds of researchers and startup founders who were all trying to get new projects or companies off the ground. I’m curious, what are some of the most common misunderstandings you saw from applicants?
There’s a couple of things, but one that stands out — and maybe this is because I have a background in academia — there’s a lot of technologies out there that are actually pretty far along, especially in point source capture [technologies that capture carbon from the smokestacks of industrial facilities before it enters the atmosphere]. Yet, at universities, they’re still trying to develop the next solvent or solid sorbent. It’s like, we can stop doing that.
Where the R&D comes in is actually getting data over a long period of time. How does the material behave? How can we recycle it and reuse it over and over again? How can we design it in a way that reduces NOx, SOx pollution, particulate matter, making the air cleaner? But it’s not about how do we just develop a new technology, because there’s a lot out there.
It seems like one of the hardest things the department was trying to do under your leadership was to strengthen its work on community engagement and community benefits — hard because many advocates for fenceline communities are so skeptical of the solutions you were working on. How did you navigate that tension?
Well, one thing is, I know what I don’t know, and I’m usually pretty willing to say what I’m good at and what I’m not good at. In the early days, I knew that this was going to be a challenge for our office and so I recruited a social scientist: Holly Jean Buck, she’s a professor at the University of Buffalo. We brought Holly in to help us develop some of the language around … it started off with community benefits, but some of our investments don’t always lead to benefits, so let’s be honest, right? And so what we wanted to think about is, what are the societal considerations and impacts of our investments? We ended up recruiting a few others, and now we have a team that’s focused on domestic engagement, and also communications and outreach.
What do you think it could mean for some of what you’ve accomplished and other things you’ve set in motion if Biden is not reelected?
I feel pretty good about what we’ve put in place, that it’s sustainable. The other thing about what I saw is that industry is really leaning in on doing these things. The low-carbon supply chains — a lot of glassmakers, cement facilities — are very interested in improving energy efficiency, are interested in carbon capture or using hydrogen as a heat source. And so what we have done is really looking at making sure they’re economic. All of these efforts that we’ve put in place are extremely bipartisan, and they’re essentially just supporting industry in a way such that they’re achievable because they’re economic.
Let’s talk a little bit about what’s next. Why did you want to work with Isometric? What are you going to be doing there?
When I was at DOE, from the beginning, we were looking at, you know, there’s a lot of the carbon removal portfolio where we don’t have the rigor in place to be able to determine the durability of the removals, the additionality of them, the time scale on which the carbon is actually removed, quantifying net removed. And so we started a commercialization effort, leveraging our national labs to help us to develop the framework. Isometric is working toward establishing rigorous frameworks, and I’m hoping to leverage the efforts ongoing at DOE — and with transparency, so that others may follow, which could lead to more durable removals and greater impact at the end of the day.
What about on the academic side of your career. Where do you plan to focus your research?
Some of the work that we were doing, or the team has been continuing to do while I’m at DOE, is mineralization, looking at different waste feedstocks that have alkalinity [a property that’s useful for carbon removal], like magnesium and calcium. One of the things that we’re going to focus a little bit more on is asking the question of, what else is there? You know, if there’s rare earth elements or critical minerals that could be used for clean energy technologies, EV motors, magnets for wind turbines. And so, I’m really excited about looking at these materials and seeing what value is there.
I’m also really excited about helping with the measurement and quantification of some of the more natural systems of removal, like forests. One of the new majors at Penn is artificial intelligence. I think there’s an opportunity right now to think about, how can we take data, whether it’s from drones or whether it’s from Lidar and airplanes or satellite data, bringing it together in an integrated way again, so that we have more robust databases that are also transparent.
There’s so many debates going on around carbon removal right now, and it feels like they often come down to philosophical differences. Are these debates important? Or do we just need to decide what we’re going to do and then reevaluate it later?
We’re not in a position anymore to think we can just decarbonize and not do greenhouse gas removals. We know we need to do both. And so I think that there are some kind of “no regrets” things that we can do — opportunities, as we’re scaling up both in the near term, to think about them in a coordinated way. In communities that don’t have solar today, imagine you have a direct air capture facility going in, and then they’re bringing clean energy that they’re using for direct air capture, but they’re bringing it for the first time ever to a community that wouldn’t otherwise have access.
But it really is regional. I think it’s regional in that there’s limited resources in any given region, whether it’s low-carbon energy, land, clean water, even geologic pore space. You have it in some states and not others. And so we really need to look at those resources and always prioritize decarbonizing, but recognize that it’s not necessarily one or the other.
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Activists on both the left and the right are pushing back against AI development.
The techlash over data center development is becoming a potent political force that could shape elections for generations.
At a national level, political leaders remain dedicated to the global race to dominate artificial intelligence. But cracks are beginning to show when it comes to support for the infrastructure necessary to get there. Nearly every week now across the U.S., from arid Tucson, Arizona, to the suburban sprawl of the D.C. area, Americans are protesting, rejecting, restricting, or banning new data center development.
It’s also popping up in our elections. On Tuesday in Virginia, voters in the No. 1 state for data center development ousted their GOP political leadership, sending to the governor’s mansion a Democrat who promised to make the growing sector pay more for its electricity. In the run-up to Election Day, polling showed voters were hyperfocused on the risk that data centers could negatively affect their lives. Some candidates in local races campaigned almost entirely on the issue, while others pledged to new bans.
“There’s a lot of other things going on too, [but] data centers are much more important than candidates want to admit,” said Chris Miller, president of Piedmont Environmental Council, a conservation advocacy group in Virginia that tracks and fights data center development. “An industry that is used to moving fast and breaking things is moving up against a physical world they’ve never dealt with before.”
Meanwhile, in Georgia, two Democrats won seats on the Public Service Commission on campaigns that wound up focused on data centers and rising energy bills.
We here at Heatmap have gone to great lengths to better understand why this opposition is so widespread. In August, our data intelligence service Heatmap Pro conducted polling to figure out how Americans feel about the billions of dollars being poured into data centers for cloud computing and AI development. We found that the dislike is incredibly strong — less than half of Americans are willing to support a data center near them. The hostility crosses party lines, with Republicans nearly as likely to express disdain towards these projects as Democrats. The frustrations with these facilities are also poised to increase over generations, as data centers are most underwater with the younger cohorts, aged 18 to 49, who may be more familiar with AI.
The polling also showed that people are easily convinced to oppose data center development in their neighborhoods. Rhetoric in favor of data centers — how they contribute to tax revenue, create jobs, help the U.S. compete with China — might win some hearts and minds, but rhetoric decrying data centers consistently polled stronger than any of the supportive arguments we tested. This registered across party lines. And making matters worse for the tech sector, individuals who previously opposed renewable energy projects were more likely to be anti-data centers.
What you get in the end is a populist conflict appealing to younger people that bridges the ends of the political spectrum, connecting the left and right — and that should make developers very worried.
On one end of the spectrum, left-aligned activists and local leaders are raging against the energy and water system strain that’ll come from the data center boom. You have folks like Blake Coe, an activist fighting data center projects in San Marcos, Texas. Coe told me he began opposing data centers after being politically awakened by a totally different issue: the Israeli government’s offensive in Gaza and alleged genocide of Palestinians there. But as he told me, he didn’t have “the clout, the money, the whatever to work on fixing a genocide.” After learning about the project in San Marcos, he concluded that the community there was something he “can fight for.”
“There’s been this air of inevitability around data centers and AI and all this new tech stuff coming out — how it’s going to happen, so either get out of the way or get run over,” he said. “And our job is to try and remind people in power of their humanity, at the end of the day.”
At the same time, activists fighting renewable energy projects from the right are also lining up to fight data centers, echoing the same frustrations voiced by environmentalists while also tarring the infrastructure as part of a broader social change imposed by Big Tech elites. Take Indiana, one of the most popular data center destinations after Virginia, where the backlash is hitting Indianapolis and rural GOP strongholds alike. Or Missouri, whose Senator Josh Hawley summed up my story here in one post in October.
“These data centers are massive electricity hogs,” Hawley said on X, months after notably leading the push for the Trump administration to defund the Grain Belt Express, a large transmission line proposal that its developer said will help states meet data center electricity demand. “That’s why Silicon Valley wants more transmission lines, solar farms and windmills,” Hawley said. “Somebody has to pay for it all — don’t believe any politician who says it won’t ultimately be you.”
In Oklahoma, 21-year-old GOP organizer Kennedy Laplante Garza started fighting a nearby data center proposal known as Clydesdale after learning over the summer that it would be built a mile from her family’s farm. “I didn’t even know that much about data centers at that point,” she told me. “But I knew my friends across the state were fighting similar things, whether they were solar panels or wind turbines.” Garza wound up organizing a mass petition campaign against the project that ultimately proved unsuccessful — Clydesdale broke ground this week.
Out in Oklahoma there aren’t very many elected Democrats at all, just different shades of Republican. But because of that, Garza told me, party affiliation matters less to voters than whether their elected representatives are listening to them — meaning there could still be consequences for GOP politicians who side with tech companies over any populist revolt against data center development.
“We’d probably see our elections flip, too, if people started running on it,” Garza said, referring to data center opposition.
This brings us back to Virginia, where local races now hinge on data center conflicts. On Tuesday, Democrat John McAuliff — a former White House energy adviser who worked on the Inflation Reduction Act — flipped a seat in the state House of Delegates, taking out an incumbent Republican representing a D.C. ex-urb that went for Donald Trump in last year’s presidential election. McAuliff’s secret sauce? A laser focus on the Virginia data center boom.
“There’s the environmental impact these are having, and of course these are very large water users. But there’s also the cultural impact that they are having,” McAuliff told me in an interview after his victory. “And then of course, there’s the energy bills piece. Because we’re all here in Data Center Alley, we’re bearing the biggest brunt of the increase in transmission lines, the increase in substations.”
Representatives of the nascent data center sector are beginning to acknowledge that they have a PR problem, but they say the issue is one of education — Americans simply do not yet understand the tax and employment benefits that can come with new data centers. In an interview conducted before this most recent Election Day, Data Center Coalition Vice President for State Policy Dan Diorio told me that opposition has “cut across states,” and that protests have become “very much a learning experience.”
“There definitely is a need for better communication,” Diorio said, adding that companies need to be “responsive to things like aesthetics or sound,” while making sure their projects match “the economic development goals of a community.”
Whenever I asked Diorio about how the data center sector should respond to this political quagmire, he would pivot to education. In the industry’s view, people would be more supportive if they simply knew more about companies’ ongoing sustainability efforts.
This left me with the sense that the business sector does not fully understand the scope of the problem it’s facing. Bukola Folashakin, an analyst with Morningstar, told me that’s plainly evident from the sheer magnitude of money — billions — being invested in a new American data center boom without hesitation.
“The data right now, what we’re seeing,” Folashakin said, “is that it’s not clear if investors are concerned from a social perspective. If social issues were such a concern, you wouldn’t see capital going in that direction.”
One of the world’s leading climate scientists agrees with Gates in spirit, but thinks we can go much further in practice.
There are a lot of things I agree with in Bill Gates’ new memo on climate change. The recent cutbacks on international spending on vaccination, malaria control, feeding the hungry, and poverty alleviation by many of the world’s richest countries (driven in part by a desire for more military spending) are a catastrophe that will cost thousands, if not millions of lives. Adaptation is a critically important part of addressing climate change, and a world with more prosperity and less inequality is one where we can better deal with the impacts of climate change — at least up to a point.
But in other areas I feel that it needlessly sets up a conflict between laudable goals. We can both mitigate emissions and alleviate poverty, disease, and hunger. While there are some tradeoffs, it is more a question of policy priority than a zero-sum game. Similarly, I feel that Gates is a bit too cavalier in his treatment of climate risk.
Given the strong reactions to Gates’ memo on both the left and the right, I thought it would be helpful to provide a more measured reaction and critique, and give some thoughts on how to move forward to — as Gates suggests — have the most positive impact on the world.
Bill Gates — through his philanthropic work with the Gates Foundation — has done more than almost anyone else on the planet to meaningfully improve the lives of the world’s poorest. The Gates Foundation was the founding funder of Gavi, which helped expand vaccination in the global south and drive down prices. They did key work to help eradicate polio and combat HIV, tuberculosis, and malaria, as well as deliver sanitation and clean drinking water, and worked to raise smallholder farmer yields and income through access to agricultural technology.
The recent gutting of the United States Agency for International Development — and smaller reductions in aid spending by other countries — is a humanitarian catastrophe and threatens to undo much of the work that the Gates Foundation supported over the past few decades. I can see why, in light of these urgent needs, he is suggesting that resources to combat climate change be repurposed toward dealing with poverty, hunger, and disease.
But this assumes that funding for climate and development cancel each other out. Here I think that Gates errs in his analysis for a few reasons.
First, the vast majority of spending on climate mitigation worldwide is not in low-income countries, and there is little reason to assume that cutting it would free up resources for development aid. The world spent more than $2 trillion on clean energy technologies (albeit somewhat expansively defined) in 2024, but the overwhelming majority of this was spent by middle- and high-income countries (e.g. China, the U.S., the EU, the UK, India, Japan) to build domestic clean energy, build transmission, buy electric vehicles, electrify heating, etc.
The idea that spending less on domestic mitigation would create more budget space for international development is fundamentally misguided. It’s hard to imagine that the Trump administration will revitalize development spending based on savings from cutting domestic green energy subsidies. Both development aid and climate mitigation spending represent relatively small shares of GDP in higher income countries, and there is space for policy to be able to prioritize spending on both without trading them off against each other. It is much more likely that any reduction in mitigation spending will be repurposed for other domestic priorities — leaving the poorest and most vulnerable parts of the world even worse off.
Second, there are a number of ways that technologies can accomplish goals of climate mitigation and development simultaneously: solar and storage for electrification of more remote areas, clean cookstoves to reduce deforestation, and technologies to reduce both outdoor and indoor air pollution that kills millions per year globally are just a few examples.
That being said, we should take a hard look at international spending priorities for programs in the poorest countries, which, in turn, are the least responsible for global emissions today. Here adaptation should be strongly prioritized, and restrictions around finance for some fossil fuels (e.g. natural gas development in Sub-Saharan Africa) that could help support greater clean energy deployment should be reconsidered. We should generally spend more than we are today on adaptation and development (though the two are strongly related), and mitigation should be less of a priority in low-income countries.
Richer countries should be the ones taking the lead on emissions reductions — and paying a premium that will help drive down the costs of clean energy technologies so that they can be adopted cost effectively by lower income countries. Indeed, that’s largely been the story of our successes here to date, with countries like China, India, and Brazil adopting ambitious net-zero goals in part because they see the cost of meeting them as modest and not trading off against their development priorities.
Third, the idea that we should “spend less” on climate adaptation is a dangerous misunderstanding of the problem. There is no world where we don’t spend money dealing with climate impacts. Rather, our choice is between spending money now, e.g. to build a seawall, or spend money later to rebuild the city after it floods. Our choice here should be guided by the fact that adaptation in advance is cheaper than adaptation after the disaster. In other words, spending money today on adaptation is the cheaper option that will better promote health and welfare of the world’s poorest citizens.
In his memo, Gates highlights the progress we’ve made on climate change to-date, noting that:
Ten years ago, the International Energy Agency predicted that by 2040, the world would be emitting 50 billion tons of carbon dioxide every year. Now, just a decade later, the IEA’s forecast has dropped to 30 billion, and it’s projecting that 2050 emissions will be even lower.
Read that again: In the past 10 years, we’ve cut projected emissions by more than 40%.
This progress is not part of the prevailing view of climate change, but it should be. What made it possible is that the Green Premium—the cost difference between clean and dirty ways of doing something—reached zero or became negative for solar, wind, power storage, and electric vehicles. By and large, they are just as cheap as, or even cheaper than, their fossil fuel counterparts.
Gates is right that cheap clean energy represents a remarkable success story, and is one of the reasons why projections of future warming have fallen from around 3.5 degrees Celsius a decade ago to around 2.7 degrees today.
But focusing on these precise temperature outcomes in 2100 is problematically reductionist. Our emissions are just one of three factors that will determine the future warming of the planet. (And we should remember that current policies represent neither a ceiling nor a floor on current emissions, particularly at a time when some governments are actively rolling them back.)
Even if we knew future emissions precisely, the warming in 2100 remains highly uncertain. It depends both on the sensitivity of the climate to our increased atmospheric greenhouse gas concentrations — the response of various climate feedbacks like clouds and surface reflectivity — and how the carbon cycle responds to both our emissions and the changing climate.
Due to the combination of these uncertainties, it’s possible that we could think we are heading for 2.7 degrees of warming and stop at 3.7 degrees (or even 4+ degrees) even if we roll 6s on the proverbial climate dice. And we won’t know precisely how sensitive the climate is (despite some recent progress) until it’s too late to avoid where we’ll end up.
This means that we should think of mitigation less as targeting (or avoiding) a particular outcome and more as hedging against risk. We should do more mitigation — all things considered — than if we had certainty in the climate response because of the high damages associated with less likely but still quite possible tail risks. Or as the late climate economist Marty Weitzman memorably put it, when it comes to climate change “the sting is in the tail.”
Gates is right to note that climate change “will not lead to humanity’s demise,” but I’d suggest that this represents a bit of a straw man. Outside a fringe community of climate doomers, there are few who think that climate change could realistically threaten the extinction of the human race (though some folks need to be a bit cautious about throwing around the term “existential threat” willy nilly). As the climate scientist Steven Schneider was fond of saying, for climate change, “the end of the world and good for you are the two lowest probability outcomes”.
But not being an existential threat does not tell us all that much, as almost nothing aside from a planet-killing asteroid or (possibly) an all-out global thermonuclear war rises to that highest of bars. Every other problem humanity deals with — war, violence, famine, poverty — is not existential but is still critically important. This is more or less Gates’ point, that climate should be treated as one of many problems we need to solve rather than an all-encompassing ur-problem. But by and large, the majority of people and policymakers have been treating it as just that.
Gates posits that society can best address climate change by working to reduce the green premium associated with clean energy technologies.
The idea of the green premium is compelling. As noted earlier, a lot of the progress that society has made on reducing emissions over the past 15 years has come on the back of near-miraculously rapid declines in the cost of clean energy technologies. Cheaper clean energy in turn enables more ambitious policy adoption, as the costs of getting to net-zero emissions turn from astronomical to manageable.
But I’d suggest that it is somewhat incomplete, at least in its more straightforward interpretation. There is an idea that innovation and markets alone will necessarily solve the problem in the absence of policy interventions — that if we can just make clean energy cheap enough, the world will sufficiently decarbonize to avoid potentially catastrophic impacts from climate change.
This may be the case, but it also may not. Innovation cuts both ways — the success of hydraulic fracturing and horizontal drilling technology has drastically reduced the cost of natural gas and oil production. There are lots of resources going into producing fossil fuels more cheaply, and while I’m hopeful that the cost of solar, batteries, wind, nuclear, geothermal, and other clean energy technologies will fall faster, there is no law of physics that says it will inevitably be cheaper.
Hoping that clean energy will be absolutely cheaper than fossil fuels at a scale needed to decarbonize our energy system is a gamble — and one with loaded dice. There are real costs associated with fossil fuel use — from air pollution, from climate change, from local environmental damage. These are currently borne by the public and not by the companies producing fossil fuels. As long as the costs remain socialized while the benefits are privatized, the market alone will not lead to the optimal level of deployment of clean energy technologies.
This is where policy comes in: We either need to include the “brown costs” of fossil fuels in their market price (e.g. a carbon tax, something that has been not very politically palatable to date) or be willing to pay some ongoing green premium in cases where clean energy remains more expensive to account for the real costs of climate and pollution.
Policy also plays a key role in technology. The rapid and amazing drop in the price of solar energy over the last few decades has been driven to a large extent by government support of the technology. The free market may have done this by itself, but it would have likely taken many decades longer.
I don’t think Gates would necessarily disagree with any of this, but it’s an important rejoinder for those who assume that innovation alone is sufficient to address the problem.
The reception of the Gates memo was an unfortunate reflection of our extremely polarized politics. Some climate advocates dismissed it as denialism or the second coming of Bjorn Lomborg, while those on the right (including President Trump) portrayed it as proof that the science was wrong and climate change was actually a hoax.
Gates tried at length and upfront to make his position clear that climate change is a big problem, and that his interest is on near-term prioritization of resources. But most interpreted the memo through their ideological priors (many likely without actually reading it).
To be clear: Climate change is a very important problem. It needs to be solved, along with other problems like malaria and malnutrition. Every tenth of a degree of heating that we prevent is hugely beneficial because a stable climate makes it easier to improve people’s lives.
Our inability to have nuanced discussions about these matters is detrimental to the broader societal discussion about serious issues like climate change. The portrayal of climate as an all or nothing problem, coupled with the U.S.’s thermostatic politics where control of government commonly switches between parties, is a recipe for a lack of clear long term action on climate or any other big societal problem that gets caught up in the politicized culture wars. While I don’t know how to change society to make science less politicized and to center the debate around the best solutions rather than the physical reality of the problem, a change is sorely needed.
Ultimately Gates’ memo is making the case that we need to set a higher priority on helping the world’s most vulnerable in a time when aid to them is being cut. I broadly agree. But deprioritizing mitigation spending is not a very effective way to accomplish that goal, outside of the relatively modest amount of money the world spends today on mitigation in the least developed countries.
When there is an option to spend money already going to these countries in a way that provides the greatest benefits for the population even if it does not reduce (or even increases) emissions, we should probably do it. But the vast majority of the resources we spend on decarbonization today in middle and upper income countries will not magically be repurposed for international development aid if we deprioritize climate change as an issue. And deprioritizing climate change as an issue risks substituting near-term benefits for long-term harms that are nearly impossible to reverse.
A world of unabated climate change will impact the poor most severely. Addressing it requires two strategies in tandem: prioritizing development and poverty alleviation to build adaptive capacity (and human flourishing), and reducing emissions rapidly in middle and upper-income countries to mitigate future climate impacts and drive down the cost of clean energy technologies so they can be more readily adopted by low income countries. Perhaps I’m unduly optimistic, but I think that society should be able to do both.
Editor’s note: A version of this article originally appeared in the author’s newsletter, The Climate Brink, and has been repurposed for Heatmap.
Current conditions: A sharp dip in the jet stream will channel Arctic air from the Plains to the Northeast, with snow expected this weekend in Minneapolis, Chicago, and Detroit • Northern California is bracing for potential power outages amid winds of up to 90 miles per hour • Temperatures of about 91 degrees Fahrenheit in Jerusalem just broke records for November temperatures dating back nearly 150 years.

The world’s most important climate summit is set to begin. The first phase of the 30th Conference of the Parties to the United Nations Framework Convention on Climate Change — better known as COP30 — is slated to kick off this morning with a Leaders’ Summit that will bring together 143 delegations, including 57 heads of state and 39 ministers in Belém, a bayside city near Brazil’s northern coast. Negotiations over how to tighten ways to implement global emissions rules and hasten the speed of cuts are set to begin officially on Monday. COP30 President André Corrêa do Lago on Wednesday unveiled a $1.3 trillion climate finance roadmap to fulfill promises made at last year’s meeting in Azerbaijan, but told reporters that “there is no plan” for the roadmap even to be discussed at the summit, let alone formally adopted, according to Climate Home News.
Taking place against the backdrop of the United States’ withdrawal from climate negotiations and pullback of ambition from many other countries, the confab comes as the latest modeling from Rhodium Group consultancy shows the world is now on track to blow past the Paris Agreement’s 2-degree Celsius target but avoid the cataclysmic warming once forecast. The data projects the world will warm between 2 and 3.9 degrees above pre-industrial averages by the end of the century. As Heatmap’s Emily Pontecorvo wrote this week, that range is largely unchanged from Rhodium’s 2023 forecasts, suggesting that, “in the long run,” the Trump administration’s policies “might not mean much for the climate’s trajectory.”
Stardust Solutions, the U.S.-based, Israeli-led geoengineering startup just raised $60 million to commercialize technology to reflect the sun’s heat back into space, has quietly begun lobbying the U.S. government for contracts. In the first quarter of this year, the company hired law firm Holland & Knight to start appealing to Congress, but didn’t disclose its efforts “due to a clerical error,” the lobbyist told E&E News on Wednesday.
To many scientists, geoengineering is too dangerous to even study, posing a moral hazard to decarbonization by offering a temporary solution to the effects of warming. But, as I reported exclusively in this newsletter in September, more than 100 scientists — including former President Joe Biden’s science adviser — signed onto a public letter calling for a publicly-accountable research program to start now in case global warming gets bad enough that a country or corporation tries to unilaterally carry out geoengineering before it’s fully understood. The emergence of a major commercial contender such as Stardust suggests the tides are turning in favor of the technology. As Heatmap’s Robinson Meyer reported last month in a scoop about Stardust’s fundraising, the company claims its technology will be ready to go by the start of the next decade.
Meanwhile, data center companies are sparking a boom in Beltway influence-peddling. The four largest cloud providers — Amazon, Microsoft, Google, and Meta — have all “reported tens of millions of dollars in federal lobbying in 2025 alone,” according to a new analysis from the federal records nonprofit OpenSecrets. The number of lobbyists per data center has also increased. Meta hired 21 more lobbyists this year than last year, and ChatGPT-maker OpenAI increased its stable of lobbyists nearly sevenfold since 2023.
The lobbying push comes amid mounting backlash. A Heatmap poll published in September found that only 44% of Americans would welcome a data center near their homes.
Taiwan this week took what may be its most significant step yet toward restarting its nuclear reactors. In May, the island became one of the only countries in world history to abandon nuclear power entirely after shutting down its final reactor. The move rendered the self-governing republic, which China claims as a breakaway territory despite the Communist Party never ruling there, almost entirely dependent on imported fossil fuels for its energy. Electricity prices are soaring — the domestic rates the Taiwan Semiconductor Manufacturing Company, the country’s national industrial champion, now pays are the highest of any of its global operations — and outages have grown. Worse yet, Taiwan is now vulnerable to blockades by the Chinese military that could weaponize blackouts in much the same way Russia has against Ukraine. Despite this, the ruling Democratic Progressive Party in Taiwan, which nominally supports independence from China, has opposed nuclear power since its inception. While Taiwanese President Lai Ching-te struggled to halt the final shutdown in the year after he took office, his administration has expressed an openness to nuclear power again.
On Wednesday, the state-owned utility Taipower submitted its assessment of how to restart shuttered reactors to the Ministry of Economic Affairs. In a referendum in August on whether Taiwan should restart its most recently closed plant, a majority of voters who cast ballots approved the measure, yet the plebiscite failed because it did not attract a large enough share of eligible voters. But the United Daily News reported that Taipower’s top boss said “there are opportunities and conditions” for restarting not just that last plant but the country’s second station, too. The news comes just days after Spain, the only country still pursuing a nuclear phaseout plan, officially started the paperwork to reconsider the policy, as I reported in Monday’s newsletter.
The new generation of geothermal startups promising to use novel drilling techniques to expand the energy source’s footprint get a lot of attention. But Ormat Technologies dominates the U.S. industry with conventional operations. In August, Ormat entered a strategic partnership with one of the next-generation companies, Sage Geosystems, in a move analysts told me at the time amounted to the giant in the space picking a “winner” among the newcomers. Yet Ormat’s latest earnings suggest it’s found a new area for growth: storage. Revenue from energy storage deals skyrocketed 108% year over year thanks to good weather conditions and higher capacity prices in the PJM Interconnection, the nation’s largest grid. The company said it expects annual growth in the sector of up to 17% over the next three years, Utility Dive reported.
Depending on how you feel about arachnids, this will either horrify you or delight you. Scientists just discovered the world’s biggest spider web, a subterranean “megacity” spanning nearly 1,080 square feet in a sulfur cave on the Albania-Greece border. Attached to a wall near the cave’s entrance, the colony — much like our own urban dwellings — has a large and diverse population. Roughly 69,000 Tegenaria domestica, known as the domestic house spider, call the web network home, along with 42,000 Prinerigone vagans spiders. Researchers believe this to be the first documented case of a colonial web formation for both species.