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The consequences will linger well past the high temperatures.

It is difficult to describe how bonkers this week’s heat wave is in the southwestern United States. Alan Gerard, a typically even-keeled meteorologist with 35 years of forecasting experience under his belt, attempted to do so in a recent edition of his newsletter, Balanced Weather. He settled on: “jaw-dropping,” “insane,” “truly historic,” “literally flabbergasting,” “incredible,” and “anomalous [even for] the middle of summer.”
Jeff Berardelli, the chief meteorologist at WFLA, the NBC affiliate in Tampa, tried to contextualize it on social media, noting that based on historical patterns, Phoenix could expect a March day as hot as it was on Thursday — 105 degrees Fahrenheit — only once every 4,433 years.
Phoenix is just one part of the story. The heat wave — which began ramping up on Tuesday, peaks Friday, and won’t subside until early next week — has set or tied March record highs in at least 480 locations so far, stretching from New Mexico to Southern Oregon. California has already broken the record for the hottest winter day ever recorded anywhere in the U.S.: 109 degrees on Thursday at a station in the eastern Coachella Valley. “The extent and magnitude of this particular heat wave is without comparison to anything that we’ve seen in March,” John Abatzoglou, a professor of Climatology at the University of California, Merced, who specializes in climate impacts in the West, told me.
That’s partially because this heat wave would be “virtually impossible for the time of year in a world without human-induced climate change,” per a report released Friday by scientists from World Weather Attribution. Heat waves have one of the clearest climate signals of any extreme weather event because a hotter planet means a hotter baseline. “Across almost the entire western U.S., temperatures [this week] were made at least five times more likely due to climate change,” Zachary Labe, a climate scientist at Climate Central, which maps the effects on daily temperatures, told me.
The March 2026 heat wave is likely to become a reference point in the same vein as the 2021 heat dome in the Pacific Northwest, subject to study, research, and scrutiny by climatologists, public health experts, hydrologists, and emergency managers in the months and years to come. The consequences of the current heat wave will also outlast the record temperatures. When it is this hot — and, more importantly, when it is this hot this soon — the effects compound, touching everything from hydropower capacity to the coming wildfire season.
To make matters worse, “this week is exacerbating conditions that were already bad,” Labe said.
Let’s take a look.
About half of the total utility-scale hydroelectricity in the U.S. is generated in the three West Coast states, but it is part of the energy mix in almost every state experiencing the heat wave this week, including also Arizona, Colorado, Idaho, Montana, Nevada, New Mexico, Oregon, Utah, and Wyoming. In these states, high-elevation snowpack acts as a kind of battery; the slow release of melting winter snow from the mountains over the spring and summer helps keep generation reliable. In the case of a major heat wave, however, the water can run off too fast or evaporate, limiting supply in the summer-peaking months.
Though reservoirs in California are mostly in good shape at this point, with the rivers flowing high this early, there will be less water available when the squeeze comes in July and August. “This year, at least for precipitation, it’s been really quite good [in California],” Abatzoglou, the UC Merced professor, told me. The issue is, it’s also “just been way too damn warm.”
Every major river basin in the western U.S. experienced its first- or second-warmest winter this year, setting a grim stage for the high temperatures that have settled over the region this week. What little snowpack there already was — 97% of the snowpack-monitoring weather stations in Colorado are in snow drought — is now being hammered by the kind of heat the region doesn’t often experience before late spring or early summer. Daniel Swain, a climate scientist with the University of California Agriculture and Natural Resources, has warned that, as a result, we might see “June snowpack levels by April 1” in some parts of the West.
Of particular concern is what this will mean for Lake Powell, the reservoir created by the Glen Canyon Dam on the Colorado River, which supplies electricity to more than 5 million customers across seven states. The reservoir is a mere 40 feet away from the minimum volume required to turn the turbines in the dam, Bloomberg reports.
The early-season heat-driven runoff will further diminish the river’s already reduced flow in the coming months. Snow accumulation in the basin above Lake Powell was only at 67% of the 30-year median for March. Earlier this week, the U.S. Colorado Basin River Forecast Center downgraded its two-week-old forecast for inflows to Lake Powell during the critical April through July period from 2.3 million acre-feet of water to less than 1.8 million acre-feet. That would represent just 27% of the river’s 30-year historical average inflow; to understand how much the unseasonable heat has affected that, projections were more than 3.6 million acre-feet of water at the start of the year.
Though it is the bottom left corner of the country that has drawn the most attention for its triple-digit temperatures this week, records are also toppling in southeastern Oregon and southwestern Idaho, where highs are 20 to 25 degrees Fahrenheit above normal. Kurt Miller, the executive director of the Northwest Public Power Association, a nonprofit that represents public utilities in the region, told me his modeling shows that two consecutive 80-degree days in Boise are enough to trigger runoff starting “in earnest” in the Pacific Northwest, where dams meet about 60% of the region’s electricity demand.
The good news is that the high temperatures in Idaho are forecast to be “peaky” rather than prolonged, as they will be in the southwest, meaning the Pacific Northwest isn’t likely to string together the series of hot days necessary to trigger a catastrophic melt-off scenario. Additionally, while snowpack in the Northwest has been dismal this year, hydropower in the region is largely determined by upstream conditions in British Columbia and Montana, which have been closer to seasonal norms and, more importantly, are out of range of this week’s heat event.
There is another obvious downside to the early snowmelt in the West: Fire season will likely start sooner. “This is basically hitting fast-forward,” Abatzoglou, the University of California, Merced professor, told me. “It’s pushing us much faster toward the crispy season.”
Especially given the already historically low snowpack (in the northern Sierras, snow is at just 38% of its normal levels), the heat current wave could move up the start of fire season by weeks as high elevations melt out and soil and vegetation begin to dry. Usually, such conditions aren’t seen before the late spring or early summer.
While major wildfires have mostly spared high-elevation landscapes in recent years, “I expect that will not be the case this year,” Swain, the scientist at UC ANR, said in a video posted earlier this week. He further predicted that “we’ll see an especially severe and early start to fire season in the four corners — Arizona, New Mexico, Utah, and Colorado,” as well as a potential “severe peak” later in the forests of Northern California, Oregon, and the Rockies. (If there’s a saving grace, though, it’s that the lack of precipitation in the West has also curbed the fuel loads by keeping vegetation growth to a minimum.)
Adding to the alarm is the fact that “this year’s snow accumulation pattern most closely resembles 2015, followed by 2005,” as the National Interagency Fire Center wrote at the start of the month. Both were historically bad fire seasons: In 2005, a then-record 8.7 million acres burned, and in 2015, the U.S. broke more than 10 million acres burned for the first time.
Some research also indicates that longer fire seasons can lead to more severe wildfires, which, in addition to posing greater risks to people and property, take a deeper toll on state and federal firefighting resources and personnel. If the season starts sooner, wildland firefighters are more likely to be exhausted by the time the severe fire days of “dirty August” and “Snaptember” finally come around.
Still, any estimates of the direct impact of this week’s heat wave on the upcoming fire season should come with a hefty margin for error. Wildfires are influenced by a number of factors, both climate-related and not, ranging from historic forest management practices to the timing of the “green up” of local fuel loads to, yes, when and where the snow melts off. But an early dry fuel bed also means prescribed burning efforts can begin sooner, the NIFC notes in its March forecast (although that said, the dry fuel bed may also eventually “curtail burning late spring into early summer if timely moisture intrusions do not materialize”).
It could still take months for the immediate-term impacts of this week’s heat wave to come into focus. Excess mortality takes weeks to calculate and sometimes years to pin down precisely; researchers didn’t conclude their formal study of the 159 deaths resulting from the 2021 heat wave in Washington state until 2023.
What we do know is that early-season severe heat is especially dangerous for human health because people aren’t yet acclimatized to it. In fact, between 50% and 70% of outdoor heat-related fatalities occur in the first few days of a heat wave, according to the Occupational Safety and Health Administration. That’s because it can take between four days and two weeks to adapt physiologically to handling heat stress, including the slow process of building up adequate blood plasma to cope with the increased cardiovascular and cooling demands on the body.
And lest we forget, this heat has arrived staggeringly early, in some places breaking the daily temperature record by as much as 11 degrees. It took until August last year for Los Angeles to experience a similarly “strong” heat wave, senior AccuWeather meteorologist Heather Zehr said in a press release.
Drownings increase during heat waves as people seek out water to cool off, but there is a reason to be especially concerned about water this week. That’s because many people will head to rivers, and that water will likely be cold and high due to rapid snowmelt in the mountains, Abatzoglou told me. In addition to its extreme heat warnings this week, the National Weather Service has also been posting PSAs reminding Americans that “cold water can kill.”
There could be impacts on agriculture, too. It is fruit- and nut-blossom season in California’s Central Valley, which produces about three-quarters of those products consumed in the United States. It’s the Valley’s Mediterranean-esque climate, in part, that makes the region so productive; this time of year, daily highs are more typically in the mid-60s, perfect for the trees. Now, however, they’re cresting 90 degrees, threatening the Valley’s $21 billion in annual exports and more than 200,000 agricultural jobs. Further south near San Diego, there are also mounting concerns for the avocado industry, as the plants have particularly heat-sensitive blooms.
Though the heat wave is expected to begin breaking next week, a definitive end to the dry, unseasonably warm troubles in the West is nowhere in sight. April is the crucial transition month in the West, when states can sometimes stabilize after winters with poor snowpack or low precipitation through late-season storms. But “unfortunately, taking a look at some of the longer-range outlooks, it’s more likely than not there will be warmer than normal temperatures continuing across the West into April,” Labe said. “So just all around bad news.”
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On Greenland’s rare earths, Baker Hughes’ geothermal bet, China’s green H2
Current conditions: A sprawling heat dome stretching from the Midwest to the East Coast is raising temperatures for more than 200 million Americans upward of 100 degrees Fahrenheit this week • Three firefighters died battling wildfires along the Colorado-Utah border on Saturday, while winds fanned the flames of the Cottonwood Fire in southwest Utah into the largest blaze in the U.S. right now • Back-to-back tropical storms Mekkhala and Higos battered Japan’s coast over the weekend, leaving at least one dead in a landslide.
For much of the past decade, Japan looked primed for offshore wind development for the same reasons the American industry first took root in the Northeast: It’s coastal, densely populated, and — with its nuclear power stations either shut down or idled — it’s more reliant on fossil fuels that it doesn’t locally produce than ever before. But building turbines off Japan’s shores has proven tricky as project costs ballooned. On Friday, Norway’s Equinor announced its decision to close its offshore wind division in Japan, after failing to win any leases at repeated auctions over the past eight years. “This decision reflects a reassessment of Equinor’s strategic direction, with a strengthened focus on integrated power markets,” the company said in a statement on its Japanese website.
The move comes two years after Denmark’s Orsted exited Japan. Last August, a consortium led by the industrial giant Mitsubishi pulled out of Japan’s first three offshore wind projects citing what Reuters described as concerns of surging costs. Last October, as I told you at the time, the newly elected government of Prime Minister Sanae Takaichi postponed a key procedural step for setting government funding levels for offshore wind projects. Instead, as you may recall, Takaichi has put a heavy focus on restarting the nuclear reactors mothballed after the 2011 Fukushima disaster and even expanding the fleet.

For much of the 20th century, the geopolitical relevance of the world’s largest island stemmed from its central location as a kind of poker table situated right where Washington, Brussels, and Moscow meet. More recently, it’s been about Greenland’s untapped mineral riches. As polar ice recedes, the autonomous Danish territory has opened previously inaccessible deposits of rare earths and copper to prospecting. For Greenland, whose population of fewer than 60,000 is roughly 85% Indigenous, mining has offered an opportunity to diversify its economy beyond just fishing, augmenting an expanding tourism sector with some heavy industry. In 2017, when I visited local political officials in Nuuk, the capital, sustainability-minded liberals pined for an alternative development approach that took advantage of Greenland’s unique and pristine wilderness to, for example, build out a biomedical industry that draws upon research into the survival traits that allow life to thrive in harsh polar environments. At the time, the populists pitching industrialism as a fast track to independence seemed, to me at least, destined to win the argument. But the green techno-optimists may yet get the chance to prove their approach.
Last week, regulators in Nuuk formally rejected an Australian mining company’s bid to renew its exploration license for one of the most advanced rare earths projects in Greenland. The Western Australia-based Energy Transition Minerals had been locked in litigation with the Greenlandic government over whether its project could safely extract rare earths such as neodymium, praseodymium, and terbium for magnets and batteries without producing uranium as a byproduct. A previous government in Greenland had banned uranium mining in 2021, effectively halting ETM’s Kvanefjeld project. But the company had told investors in February that it “remains confident in the merits” of its position in negotiations with Greenland and “resolute in our intention to develop Kvanefjeld responsibly and in accordance with international best practice.” Just last week, the company published data showing that it had identified 10 new rare earth deposits “with uranium levels recorded below regulatory thresholds.” If it factored into negotiations at all, it wasn’t enough to change the outcome. Following the rejection on Friday, the company told Reuters: “Greenland has positioned itself as open for business. This decision creates a different impression.” In a sign of how the political winds may be shifting, the headline on Sunday’s front-page story in Sermitsiaq, one of Greenland’s only national newspapers, warned of the “environmental bombs” coming just from future American military bases on the island.
Of all the ways to build up, shore up, and clean up America’s grid, geothermal energy is easily among the most elegant, narratively speaking. We already quietly operate the world’s largest geothermal power plant. The new generation of companies racing to build new power stations require the very same battle-hardened drilling equipment, technologies, and workers that sustained the fracking boom and turned the U.S. into a top global producer of oil and gas. Many of the best-mapped hot rocks are located out west, where the federal government owns vast tracts of land, meaning the strong bipartisan consensus in support of geothermal energy development can, in fact, translate into faster approvals for projects. It’s a bet that one of the nation’s largest oilfield services providers is now making. Last week, Baker Hughes inked a deal with the geothermal developer Mantle Reach Power to support construction of as much as 500 megawatts of new generating capacity. As part of the deal, Baker Hughes will provide its drilling technologies, in a move the company said would “de-risk and deliver” on the promises of geothermal power. “Geothermal is a clean power solution that is proving to be a vital contributor to advancing sustainable energy development, with incredible potential to enhance U.S. energy security, support digital infrastructure, and ensure energy remains accessible and affordable,” Baker Hughes CEO Lorenzo Simonelli said in a statement.
Meanwhile, federal regulators just approved the environmental review of a new conventional geothermal project. Once complete, Ormat Technologies’ Pearl geothermal project in Nevada’s Esmeralda County will generate up to 60 megawatts of power. It’s just the latest approval of what Think Geo Energy called a series of approvals for Ormat’s proposed expansion in Nevada.
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Even before the Iran War, momentum was gathering in China for a green hydrogen buildout. The “most important low-carbon policy for 2025,” according to the analyst Jian Wu, was China’s decision to start subsidizing green hydrogen-related applications from central government coffers for the first time as Beijing sought to wean off fossil fuel imports and make use of solar and wind farms that had grown so abundant that the country’s grid operators recently phased out key incentives for renewables. Since the war, Beijing has turned its attention to shoring up its domestic fuel supplies, whether by increasing its domestic drilling, chemically-processing coal, or zapping water with enough renewable electricity to cleanly separate out the hydrogen molecules. Now it’s placing a big bet on the latter. China just put out a new five-year plan for the energy sector with a goal to install more than 2 million metric tons of annual capacity to produce green hydrogen by the end of the decade, Hydrogen Insight reported. That would more than double the existing capacity.
Overall, the document raises the target for China to generate half its electricity from non-fossil sources by 2030. But its goals for the wind and solar sectors represent a significant slowdown from the recent pace of development, indicating the government’s interest in diversifying its carbon-free electricity sector.
At present, I see three guarantees in my life: Death, taxes, and the likelihood that another Chinese nuclear plant will make significant enough progress to merit telling you about it. Readers hoping to understand the stakes of America’s incipient nuclear renaissance are wise to keep track of how successfully China’s state-owned reactor developers have been building their own domestically-sourced version of the flagship U.S. reactor design. I can’t keep track of how many times we have covered Chinese reactor milestones. But add this to the list: Last week, World Nuclear News reported, the second of six Hualong One reactors at the Taipingling nuclear power plant in Guangdong province started up, sustaining a chain reaction for the first time. The speed with which China General Nuclear completed the domestically-supplied reactor — the design for which is largely cribbed from the Westinghouse AP1000 — highlights the strategy American atomic energy advocates are increasingly promoting. A nonprofit called the Nuclear Scaling Initiative launched in 2024 to propound the idea of focusing on reactors that can be built identically over and over.
Investors debate the right way to bet on the nuclear revival, and the growing list of startups debuting on the stock market through reverse merger deals that require less scrutiny than traditional initial public offerings provides ample grist for disagreement. But here’s a surefire wrong way: Selling $1.5 million of call option contracts for your employer’s stock on the day of a major announcement that you are playing a pivotal role in overseeing. Yet that’s exactly what the Department of Justice accuses Casey Muggleston, a former engineering manager in charge of relicensing the shuttered Three Mile Island power plant, of doing on the very day his employer, Constellation, announced a landmark deal with Microsoft to reopen the facility to supply its data centers with electricity. If convicted, Muggleston could face a maximum of 25 years in prison, according to ABC27, a TV news station in Harrisburg, Pennsylvania.
There is a heat wave in Europe, the world’s fastest warming continent. And so, as you may have heard, a perennial topic of online climate discourse has returned: Why don’t more Europeans have air conditioning?
I’m partially convinced this is psy op, or at least a figment of how social media organizes attention. I have a hypothesis that various “For You” page algorithms, especially that of the social network X, began to reward content that performed unusually well across national borders a few years ago. Since then, the amount of America vs. Europe content has surged. (Of course, writers have been comparing American and European lifestyles for much longer than that.)
Suffice it to say, though: It’s a fraught topic. I’ve assumed that as extreme heat gets worse as the climate changes, Europeans will simply get on with it and install AC, much as Americans in the Pacific Northwest have done. Yet there are cultural and regulatory obstacles to AC’s growth in Europe.
I’m sure I’ll write about it in the future, but for now I want to get a grip on the facts themselves. And so as a Friday special, I present to you — the facts about European AC, as I understand it:
Thanks so much for reading, and talk soon.
The movement against data centers is raising up a raison d'etre of the anti-renewables movement: protecting would-be farmland.
Farm owners and operators across the U.S. are winning national headlines almost every week for rejecting big dollar offers from data center developers. In Hanover County, Virginia, protestors are chanting “Grow Tomatoes, Not Data Centers.” In Pennsylvania and elsewhere, Republican legislators are mulling proposals to block the sale of so-called “prime farmland” for data center development. In Texas, the fight over data center development has engulfed the race for the state’s ag commissioner seat. In the Midwest, where agriculture reigns supreme, statewide races and congressional campaigns are slowly but surely being defined by the issue. Like in Nebraska where Austin Ahlman, an independent candidate running for Congress in Nebraska’s first district, told me he believes the data center backlash is reflective of a populist politics that broadly criticize elites and top-down control of the economy: “I think sometimes people misunderstand the anxieties of rural Americans when it comes to these data centers because a lot of their fears are about control long term.”
Unlike the farmland backlash around renewable energy development, the loudest critics are on the anti-monopolist left. On Wednesday, the prominent opposition group Food and Water Watch signaled farmland could soon be a watchword in the national data center debate – in a fashion analogous to what we’ve seen with renewable energy. The organization’s blog post entitled “The AI Data Center Boom Is Coming for Farmers” declared data centers verboten because of the threat they posed to “small and midsized family farmers.” Mitch Jones, deputy director of the campaign outfit, said he believes the threat to farmland is “a compelling reason to oppose data center development” but that his organization’s fight is primarily focused on protecting small business owners and an anti-monopoly sentiment.
“If data centers are coming into their areas, this puts even more pressure on them. It drives up the cost of their electricity, just as it does anyone else. It competes with them for water for crops, and it affects the value of their land in a perverse way,” Jones told me.
None of this should be surprising. An agricultural workforce has always been a good barometer for figuring out if a community will accept new infrastructure of any kind. We’ve seen as much time and time again with renewable energy, carbon capture, fossil energy and mining, just to name a few industries.
This same rule is true with data centers. In April, county commissioners in Kosciusko County, Indiana, unanimously rejected a Prologis data center; nearly 90% of acreage in Kosciusko County is being actively farmed, according to the Heatmap Pro database. Linn County, Iowa, in February enacted a rule severely restricting data center development in unincorporated areas; almost three-fourths of the land is used by the ag sector. A potential Amazon facility is causing heartburn in Clinton County, Ohio; nearly all land in the county is used for farming and utility-scale solar development has a recent history of conflict with landowners.
To be candid, I’m struck by the similarity in the backlash over siting data centers on farmland – a resemblance so close that some counties are starting to restrict renewable energy and data center development on farmland at the same time. This week, Eau Claire County, Wisconsin created a new “farmland preservation plan” discouraging utility-scale solar energy and data centers on any potential farmland. (More than 40% of land in this county is currently being used for farmland, according to Heatmap Pro.)
Jones at Food and Water Watch said his organization taking on the “protect farmland” mantle had nothing to do with the success this argument has had against renewable energy. “That thought never entered my head,” he told me, adding that if communities respond to the data center backlash by taking steps that short-circuit solar and wind too, that’s “a coincidence.”
I kept pressing. What if the pivot to farmland protection leads to more communities restricting renewable energy along with the data centers? “If you’re looking for a reason to oppose solar and wind, you can come up with that without having to attach data centers to it,” Jones said. “We’ve seen rural communities oppose solar and wind before data centers blew up across the country. It’s nothing new.”