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

Hindsight is 20-20, but boy have we had a lot of bad ideas.
We laid lead pipes to transport our drinking water. We let our kids play in clouds of DDT. We textured our ceilings with asbestos fibers. And until this week, nothing prevented municipalities across the country from allowing cancer-causing chemicals into the water that flows from the kitchen sinks of nearly half of Americans.
On Wednesday, the Environmental Protection Agency announced it would tolerate only exceptionally low levels of six perfluoroalkyls and polyfluoroalkyls — a group collectively known as PFAS, or “forever chemicals” — in U.S. drinking water. The chemicals, which are used for everything from waterproofing raincoats to making stain-resistant rugs, have been linked to severe health problems such as kidney, testicular, prostate, and colorectal cancers, of which diagnoses have been on the rise. An estimated 98% of us have traces of PFAS in our bodies, which often got there in the first place because of something we drank.
Environmental groups were quick to applaud the decision, calling it “overdue” and a “huge victory.” But despite being a huge step toward improving public health, the EPA’s action does not stop PFAS from entering America’s groundwater in the first place. One of the most pernicious sources is also one of the most useful: firefighting foam.
“Aqueous film forming foam,” or AFFF (“A-triple-F”), is highly effective at putting out oil and gasoline fires, which is why commercial airports, refineries, the military, and large ships keep it ready to hand. “When you take a shower, the soap and the shampoo you use spreads out the water into a foam — it suds,” David Trueba, the CEO of Revive Environmental, a company that has developed a method of breaking down PFAS that meets the EPA’s standards, told me. “AFFF does the same thing, but it prevents oxygen from getting to a grease or an oil fire. The PFAS molecules do an excellent job of creating bubbles and foam.”
The specific PFAS chemicals used in the foam are perfluorooctanesulfonic acid or perluorooctanoic acid, both newly restricted under the EPA’s drinking water guidance — but again, nothing prevents companies from continuing to manufacture them. The somewhat limited and specific uses of AFFF might make it seem like a threat mainly to firefighters and aviation professionals, rather than the general public. But in fact, the foam is one of the primary ways PFAS gets into drinking water because it is “directly applied to the environment when conducting training and responding to fires,” Shalene Thomas, the senior emerging contaminants program manager at Battelle, Revive Environmental’s parent company, told me. To add insult to injury, airports are required to test their foam annually, for safety reasons.
Even with the EPA’s new regulations, Thomas said, “until these releases are fully delineated, sources removed, and treatment installed, the risk of exposure from drinking water remains.”
Airports, municipal fire departments, and the military are all moving away from using AFFF to fight liquid fires, but that leaves an estimated 10 to 15 million gallons of the foam in the United States alone, which will have to be carefully processed to neutralize their danger, lest they end up in landfills where they might, of course, leech into the groundwater. Their persistence in the environment is a side effect of the strong bonds that make PFAS so effective — and what makes industry so reluctant to give them up — but it’s also what makes them incredibly difficult to abate. “If you’re playing Red Rover, normal molecules look like you and I — we can lock arms, and they can break through,” Trueba explained. But with PFAS, “We’re playing against The Rock and John Cena. That’s how strong the bond is.”
This conundrum has led some water utilities to complain about costs from a problem they say is not of their own making and is often prohibitively expensive to address. Large water utilities that serve populations of more than 10,000 people may only have a budget of $10 million for everything they do. “Having a $3 to $5 million bogey put on top of that” to treat water for PFAS, as directed by the EPA — “that’s where the comments usually come from,” Trueba said. While the Biden administration allotted an additional $1 billion in its drinking water plan on top of the nearly $4 billion set aside to address PFAS and other contaminants in the Bipartisan Infrastructure Law, $5 billion is still “going to go not very far,” Trueba said. For example, Washington state’s public water utilities alone have said they’d need $1.6 billion for their initial PFAS cleanup.
John Rumpler, the clean water director at Environment America, is less tolerant of complaints from utilities. “For the public water utilities to be sitting there playing the victim and saying, ‘Oh my gosh, the EPA is imposing all these terrible costs on us’ — what do we tell our kids? Do something to help yourself,” he told me. “The part of the problem that utilities can clearly control is to shut off the tap on those industrial wastewater sources that are sending their PFAS to you.” State officials can also set pretreatment standards for industrial dischargers so PFAS are removed before they ever end up in waste sewage plants.
So far, this is how action against AFFF has come about — from individual state lawsuits and takeback programs. Back in 2018, the city of Stewart, Florida, sued chemical manufacturer 3M over the firefighting foam that had contaminated its water table, a suit that was eventually joined by 4,000 cities around the country. The eventual settlement totaled more than $10 billion and sparked the race to create technologies like Revive’s PFAS Annihilator, which uses intense heat and pressure to break the molecule’s stubborn chemical bonds. Other users of AFFF started to look closer at the foam, too; the Pentagon plans to phase out its use this year after an investigation by the Defense Department, and a spokeswoman for the National Fire Protection Association pointed me toward the organization’s ongoing workshops aimed at mitigating health risks to its members from fire-suppressing foams.
If these efforts keep up, it’s possible that in the future PFAS will become another bad idea we disbelievingly shake our heads at when we remember how things used to be. “Our parents and our grandparents seem to have pans and rugs from before these chemicals, so I’m pretty sure that we can do without them,” Rumpler pointed out.
But until chemical manufacturers stop making substances like AFFF, the EPA has only really given the faucet one good turn toward the off position. It still continues to drip.
Log in
To continue reading, log in to your account.
Create a Free Account
To unlock more free articles, please create a free account.
Current conditions: Churning off Mexico’s west coast, Tropical Storm Vance is strengthening into the 11th major hurricane to hit the eastern Pacific this year • A magnitude 7 earthquake that struck a remote corner of northeast Tibet killed at least 18 people and injured dozens more • A series of offshore storms in the Atlantic are hammering the East Coast with dangerous swells.
President Donald Trump issued a proclamation Thursday declaring that imported wind turbines and their parts “threaten to impair the national security of the United States,” affirming the findings of an investigation the Department of Commerce opened last summer. But the White House stopped short of imposing the tariffs the agency recommended. It’s tempting, of course, to interpret the White House’s decision to punt on tariffs as a concession to win Democratic votes in Congress for the bipartisan infrastructure deal. In keeping with Trump’s famously chaotic negotiating style, the Department of Justice in the past week reopened permitting decisions on two major offshore wind farms while the Pentagon advanced two of the droves of onshore wind projects amid the bureaucratic blockade that has stymied the sector for months.
But a source with direct knowledge of the White House’s thinking told me Trump made his proclamation Thursday to meet a statutory 90-day deadline between the release of the Commerce Department’s findings in its Section 232 investigation. If Trump failed to acknowledge the conclusions of the probe within that three-month notice period, the source said, the president would lose the legal right to act on the findings. Instead, the proclamation represents what the source called “the minimum viable product” to maintain the option to impose tariffs based on the Commerce Department investigation at a later date. Trump followed a similar approach in July, when he declined to impose tariffs on imported aircraft parts despite the threat the administration warned the foreign dependence posed.

Chinese turbine companies already dominate the global wind industry. But as firms such as Goldwind and Mingyang Smart Energy make a push into the European market, where countries are increasingly building out turbines to ease demand for fossil fuels, Beijing is ordering its Chinese companies to stick to Chinese-made parts. Until now, Chinese turbine companies relied on components made in Europe and elsewhere. But an investigation published this week by Poland’s state-backed Ośrodek Studiów Wschodnich found that Chinese utilities are racing to replace foreign technology with domestic alternatives in hundreds of operating wind farms. The Warsaw-based think tank, known in English by the acronym OSW or as the Centre for Eastern Studies, analyzed 1,686 wind-sector procurement documents issued by Chinese utilities and their subsidiaries, “and found 293 that call for foreign technology to be replaced with Chinese alternatives, or impose domestic-localization requirements on new installations.” Of these, 251 covered replacements for wind farms that are currently online, and 42 imposed domestic requirements on new installations. That “localization drive,” OSW noted, includes grid equipment, solar panels, batteries, and coal-fired power plants.
The localization drive doesn’t stem from any one government mandate, “It works through a collection of opaque administrative measures, which is why procurement records are the place to uncover it,” OSW wrote. “But those records sit on fragmented platforms and older notices are often deleted, so what follows is the visible portion of something likely larger. Wind is also one area among many.” So, why focus on wind? “Europe has not yet decided how to treat Chinese suppliers in this sector,” the organization argued. “Chinese manufacturers are just beginning to establish a presence in the European market, while Europe is actively debating the conditions that should apply to their access. China’s treatment of foreign suppliers therefore has direct relevance for European debates over the future of the economic and trade relationship.” While Poland is internally divided in a culture war that many Americans would find recognizable, the country has long found unity in its skepticism of Europe’s embrace of Russian gas throughout the opening decades of this century. That proved to be keen foresight, as we all learned when Russian tanks rolled into Ukraine in 2022. So when a country that’s rapidly building out wind power both on and offshore raises concern over Beijing’s grip over a supply chain, it’s worth paying attention.
Last year, the Department of Energy and the Department of Defense established new programs to help startups developing novel nuclear reactors build prototypes and run tests, with several companies splitting atoms for the first time earlier this year. Now the data collected from those trial runs can count on the companies’ formal applications for commercial licenses. On Thursday, the Nuclear Regulatory Commission finalized a rule allowing reactor developers who took part in those programs to apply their results, saving potentially millions of dollars by avoiding steps already approved by other federal experts. While the rule amends two of the main licensing pathways for reactors — known as Parts 50 and 53 — to allow information gathered at the Energy Department and the Pentagon to count, companies must “still demonstrate compliance with NRC requirements” and point out the differences between the demonstration project and a proposed commercial plant. Describing it as an “expedited path” for alumni of the other agencies’ programs, NRC Chairman Ho Nieh said “high-quality applications showing how DOE and DOW results apply to NRC requirements will help us review them more efficiently.” The move is part of a shift at the NRC that began before Trump returned to office. Former President Joe Biden signed the ADVANCE Act into law in 2024, explicitly directing the NRC to broaden its mission to include weighing both the risk of building nuclear reactors and not constructing them. Trump accelerated the change with executive orders calling on the NRC to speed up approvals for new reactors. He also tightened his control over the agency by successfully challenging the traditional interpretation of the agency’s independence to mean that presidents can appoint new commissioners but not fire existing ones in the middle of their terms.
Finland, meanwhile, just permitted the world’s first permanent repository for nuclear waste. I visited the facility in western Finland, known as Onkalo, back in 2022. Dug more than 1,300 feet into the bedrock that geologists say hasn’t moved in billions of years, the site has already inspired Sweden and Canada to pursue similar projects. The U.S., on the other hand, is moving away from its long stalled plan to bury nuclear waste in Nevada’s Yucca Mountain. Instead, it’s embracing technology to reprocess spent fuel into fresh fuel. That isn’t to say there aren’t some key links between nuclear industries on opposite sides of the Atlantic. A subsidiary of Canada’s Ontario Power Generation, the state-owned utility in the country’s most populous province that’s building the first small modular reactor in North America, just inked a deal to develop that same technology in the United Kingdom, World Nuclear News reported. All good news for Arnold Schwarzenegger. The former California governor and clean energy advocate told the Financial Times on Thursday that he wants more nuclear power to “terminate pollution.”
Sign up to receive Heatmap AM in your inbox every morning:
Copper is hitting record highs as the U.S. stockpiles the metal and Chile’s mine output contracts. Aluminum is dealing with the shock of the Iran War shutting down a key smelter. Nickel is facing new export restrictions from Indonesia, the world’s top supplier. The lithium shortage is driving demand for hundreds of billions in new investment. That’s the backdrop of the global mineral market right as the artificial intelligence boom is adding new demand, according to a report the consultancy Wood Mackenzie published Thursday. “Data centers represent an economy-wide power infrastructure challenge, but the bigger story is the collision between accelerating demand and increasingly complex supply delivery,” Lindsay Grant, Wood Mackenzie’s vice president of metals and mining research, said in the report. “High prices should trigger investment, yet project sanctioning remains below expectations. Without faster approvals and investment commitments, the industry cannot deliver the mine supply needed to support future growth.”

Market chaos is driving long- and short-term shortages abound. U.S. refineries are working overtime to meet soaring gas prices. The facilities averaged more than 95% of capacity from May to September, the highest output for those months since 1998, according to an analysis the U.S. Energy Information Administration published Thursday. During a speech in Iowa on Thursday night, Trump said he would direct $150 million in Defense Production Act money toward beefing up refineries further.
The Commerce Department is investing $175 million into the fusion startup Helion. The company — which the Financial Times described as a “speculative” venture backed by Josh Kushner, the brother of Trump’s son-in-law; conservative tech billionaire Peter Thiel; and OpenAI founder Sam Altman — will receive the funding from a pool of money the agency had leftover from the CHIPS Act. In exchange, the U.S. government will take an equivalent non-voting equity stake. The deal marks the Commerce Department’s largest commitment yet to a single company in the sector.
The Israeli government, meanwhile, is looking to ramp up its investments into fusion. On Thursday, Israel’s Ministry of Energy and Infrastructure published what The Jerusalem Post described as a strategic report detailing the opportunity to invest now in a fusion market that could be worth hundreds of billions of dollars in the coming decades. Israel has long eschewed fission energy, as establishing a traditional civilian nuclear program would invite the International Atomic Energy Agency’s scrutiny of the country’s nuclear weapons arsenal, which Jerusalem has long refused to confirm. But the decision by U.S. regulators to treat fusion reactors like research and medical reactors rather than fission power plants could set the stage for laxer global oversight of the technology in the future.
With war tragically raging on between Israel and the Iran-backed Hezbollah militia in Lebanon’s south, financing utility-scale solar and wind projects has proven difficult. The first large solar farm is poised to begin construction before the end of the year. But Lebanon’s small-scale distributed solar is booming. In 2020, Renewables Now reported, the country had less than 100 megawatts of peak solar generating capacity installed. Now that figure has risen to 1.5 gigawatts, the Lebanese Center for Energy Conservation told the trade publication. Even before the war, Lebanon’s grid repeatedly failed, spurring Lebanese to install more rooftop solar panels and batteries to keep the lights on.
Jason Fenske loved his Lucid. Or at least, the idea of it.
Fenske is the proprietor of the influential Engineering Explained channel on YouTube, which digs into the mechanical minutiae of both combustion and electric vehicles. While he regularly test-drives all sorts of cars, Fenske last year bought himself a Lucid Air, the big, beautiful sedan from the California EV startup.
The choice was no surprise. Fenske called the Air “one of the most impressive feats of engineering in the automotive world.” Technologically, it is indeed a car without compromise. Despite delivering 600-plus horsepower and a 0-60 mph time of barely more than 3 seconds, it was also the most efficient car in America, a fact that helped push its driving range above 400 miles per charge. But after a year of Fenske’s Air struggling with seemingly incurable software glitches, the company bought back his car and gave him a long-term loan of the Gravity, its new electric SUV. When that, too, suffered software bugs, he finally moved on to a Ford.
The episode encapsulates what has been a trying time for the automaker. Alongside Tesla and Rivian, Lucid looked to be the third successful EV startup to spring out of California. Tesla, once it overcame the trials of “manufacturing hell” to produce the Model 3 and Model Y, seized control of the American EV market and has yet to let go. Rivian, buoyed through the bad years by investments from the likes of Volkswagen and Amazon, appears poised to reach a sustainable future now that the more affordable R2 is out and thriving. Lucid, though, is stuck in an earlier stage in startup evolution — reportedly burning through cash as it struggles with both the software side of its vehicles and with the state of the U.S. EV market. The mood grew so grim this summer that the company announced a full operational reset to try to restore investor confidence, which included CEO Peter Rawlinson, formerly the man in charge of the Tesla Model S, stepping down.
Things started off much more promising in 2021, when the Air established Lucid as the efficiency nerd’s EV. Today, the rear-wheel-drive version gets the equivalent of 146 miles per gallon — tops in the U.S., and good enough for the Air to get 420 miles of range. The most expensive Air, with a supersized battery to match, delivers an eye-popping figure of 512 miles.
The obvious next step for the American market is to build an SUV, which Lucid has done with the Gravity. We tested it this past weekend in a seven-seat configuration, ferrying five people and three dogs up to Oak Glen, California, the mountain town of apple orchards and pumpkin patches where Angelenos come to cosplay autumn. (Bibi, one of the four-legged passengers who doesn’t care for cars, loved the Lucid). Despite its length, which gives it the proportions of a svelte minivan, the Gravity’s ample power makes it drive like a lighter vehicle. And despite its size, the Lucid’s efficiency obsession gives the car 400-plus miles of range, allowing us to drive a three-hour round trip and still have half the battery capacity left over. I can’t tell you how luxurious that feels compared to everyday life in a standard-range Tesla Model 3.
Inside, the Gravity is truly deluxe and inviting. Where Tesla embraced a fully minimalist interior and Rivian projects more of an REI, gentrified outdoorsy aesthetic, Lucid tilts more toward being the electric black car. The sprawling curved screen across the dashboard and secondary large touchscreen in the central console, combined with the elegant approach to its UI, is just so much more sophisticated than what you’d see in a legacy carmaker’s EV.
The setup offers a refined way to use all the car’s basic functions like climate, music, and navigation, as well as search for charging stations and view all of the car’s energy and efficiency stats. The array of settings and options allows an EV enthusiast to tweak a thousand things about their car. Take charge planning on road trips, a sore spot I often gripe about: In the Lucid, a bevy of options lets you select and deselect whichever charging networks you want, tell the computer whether to prioritize total time versus number of charging stops, and lots more. Then there are the premium extras meant to justify the Gravity’s price, which starts at $80,000 and rises from there. Wellness and relaxation programs can take over the digital displays and lighting, transforming the cabin into a little spa on wheels for as long as you’d like. The car simply feels like Silicon Valley affluence.
Within that user experience lies the problem, though. Lucid’s EVs are unquestionably mechanically excellent. But in the age of the software-defined car, all the software has to be excellent, too. Fenske’s Air wasn’t the only Lucid beset by bugs. This is an unavoidable fact of life in the 21st century — Tesla and Rivian have certainly had their share — but Lucid appears to have struggled more to cleanse them. Even my test unit would erroneously flash a momentary warning while I was rolling down the freeway (close latch before driving!) that disappeared just as quickly. It made no real difference to the driving experience, yet it’s one of those tiny glitches that saps one’s confidence in a car whose software is also responsible for keeping you safe.
Set aside software woes, and the timeline is troublesome for Lucid, too. Tesla established a pattern for EV startups: it built the very expensive Model S and X first, making just enough revenue from those pricey halo cars to survive until it could build the more affordable Model 3 and Y and generate a reliable revenue stream. Rivian took a similar path, selling R1 pickups and SUVs that cost $70,000, and sometimes much more, before introducing the R2 this year. Lucid’s smaller and cheaper EVs would be called the Cosmos and Earth, but we’ve yet to see those vehicles, and they won’t arrive until at least next year. When they do show up, they’ll have to compete with an improving set of luxury EVsfrom the likes of BMW and Mercedes-Benz.
Once those $50,000 Lucids exist, far more drivers will be exposed to all the things that the brand does right. And maybe — as long as there’s enough investment cash to get there — that will establish Lucid as a brand that is here to stay. Until then, the sticker price of these dream machines means that Lucid is competing in a small slice of an already small market, since not even a year of expensive gas has been enough to tip Americans toward EVs for good.
This is Heatmap Daily, a weekday digest written by our executive editor. Subscribe here.
My colleague Emily Pontecorvo has a fascinating story today about Net Power, an energy and power development company whose technology once seemed key to decarbonizing the country’s electricity grid.
When Net Power went public in 2023, it was working on a natural gas-burning power plant that would generate little to no emissions in part by using carbon capture and storage. Its invention seemed to have big implications, and not just for the company’s bottom line: Back then, the Environmental Protection Agency was drafting climate rules that would have required new natural gas plants built in the 2030s to capture their carbon dioxide emissions. Net Power’s technology seemed like one of the best available ways to meet that standard.
Cut to 2026, and the world looks different. Thanks to the artificial intelligence boom, electricity demand is surging. But Net Power hasn’t successfully commercialized its proprietary power plant technology. Even if it had, few companies are willing to pay the high premium required by Net Power’s technology, especially when cheaper options are available. And the government certainly isn’t going to require it. Emily’s story reveals what happened next.
When I helped start Heatmap more than three years ago, I never thought I would write this much about data centers. I believed that electricity demand growth was inevitable, sure, and I thought the U.S. power grid had to expand for the country to decarbonize. But I didn’t foresee such a staggering near-term surge in electricity demand. (To be fair, even long-time students of the computing industry’s energy use didn’t see the coming increase, either.)
What I didn’t anticipate — or understand — were two fast-moving trends. The first was that the AI models were responding to scale: the more text or images they consumed, or training they received, or (crucially) computational power they had access to, the better they got. The second was that Wall Street was happy to pay to continue that speedy scale-up. As long as models kept getting better, investors were willing to keep lending or investing more money to the companies making them. Through the power of those two scaling functions, the data center boom became one of the biggest infrastructure buildouts in American history.
In recent days, the second of those trends has started to falter. After a surprisingly hot inflation report last week, and a disclosure on Wednesday evening that Meta has gone free cash flow negative to finance its ongoing AI buildout, stocks with any proximity to AI or data centers stumbled on Wall Street today. The data center developers Coreweave and Vistra were each down about 10%, while Microsoft, Alphabet, and Nvidia all fell in daily trading. Meta’s stock lost almost 7% of its value; GE Vernova, which produces gas turbines, was down 10%.
These declines look more significant when you zoom out. Since late June, a good chunk of the AI portfolio has sagged into the red. Coreweave’s stock is down 54% over the past six months. Alphabet and GE Vernova have also posted declines since the summer. (The trend isn’t uniform: Nvidia and Microsoft are still very much in the green.)
None of this, to be sure, guarantees that the AI boom is ending or even slowing down. But this finance-applied friction is what such a slowdown could look like. Investors aren’t (yet) saying that AI is a business dud, to be clear, just that companies perhaps don’t need to go and construct all this stuff so fast. And given what the data center buildout has meant for energy construction — not to mention greenhouse gas emissions — that’s a trend nobody in climate or energy can ignore.