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New rules governing how companies report their scope 2 emissions have pit tech giant against tech giant and scholars against each other.

All summer, as the repeal of wind and solar tax credits and the surging power demands of data centers captured the spotlight, a more obscure but equally significant clean energy fight was unfolding in the background. Sustainability executives, academics, and carbon accounting experts have been sparring for months over how businesses should measure their electricity emissions.
The outcome could be just as consequential for shaping renewable energy markets and cleaning up the power grid as the aforementioned subsidies — perhaps even more so because those subsidies are going away. It will influence where and how — and potentially even whether — companies continue to voluntarily invest in clean energy. It has pitted tech heavyweights like Google and Microsoft against peers Meta and Amazon, all of which are racing each other to power their artificial intelligence operations without abandoning their sustainability commitments. And it could affect the pace of emissions reductions for decades to come.
In essence, the fight is over how to appraise the climate benefits of companies’ clean power purchases. The arena is the Greenhouse Gas Protocol, a nonprofit that creates voluntary emissions reporting standards. Companies use these standards to calculate emissions from their direct operations, from the electricity and gas that powers and heats their buildings, and from their supply chains. If you’ve ever seen a brand claim it “runs on 100% renewable energy,” that statement is likely backed by a Greenhouse Gas Protocol-sanctioned methodology.
For years, however, critics have poked holes in the group’s accounting rules and assumptions, charging it with enabling greenwashing. In response, the organization has decided to overhaul its standards, including for how companies should measure their electricity footprint, known as “scope 2” emissions.
The Greenhouse Gas Protocol first convened a technical working group to revise its Scope 2 Standard last September. By late June, the group had finalized a draft proposal with more rigorous criteria for clean energy claims, despite intense pushback on the underlying direction from companies and clean energy groups.
A flurry of op-eds, essays, and LinkedIn posts accused the working group of being on the “wrong track,” and called the proposal a “disaster” with “unintended consequences.” The Clean Energy Buyers Association, a trade group, penned a letter saying it was “inefficient and infeasible for most buyers and may curtail ambitious global climate action.” Similarly, the American Council on Renewable Energy warned that the plan “could unintentionally chill investment and growth in the clean energy sector.”
Next the draft will face a 60-day public consultation period that begins in early October. “There’ll be pushback from every direction,” Matthew Brander, a professor of carbon accounting at the University of Edinburgh and a member of the Scope 2 Working Group, told me. Ultimately, it will be up to the Working Group, the Protocol’s Independent Standards Board, and its Steering Committee, to decide whether the proposal will be adopted or significantly revised.
The challenge of creating a defensible standard begins with the fundamental physics of electricity. On the power grid, electrons from coal- and natural gas-fired power plants intermingle with those from wind and solar farms. There’s no way for companies hooking up to the grid to choose which electrons get delivered to their doors or opt out of certain resources. So if they want to reduce their carbon footprints, they can either decrease their energy consumption — by making their operations more efficient, say, or installing on-site solar panels — or they can turn to financial instruments such as renewable energy certificates, or RECs.
In general, a REC certifies that one megawatt-hour of clean power was generated, at some point, somewhere. The current Scope 2 Standard treats all RECs as interchangeable, but in reality, some RECs are far more effective than others at reducing emissions. The question now is how to improve the standard to account for these differences.
“There is no absolute truth,” Wilson Ricks, an engineering postdoctoral researcher at Princeton University and working group member, told me back in June. “I mean, there are more or less absolute truths about things like how much emissions are going into the atmosphere. But the system for how companies report a certain number, and what they’re able to claim about that number, is ultimately up to us.”
The current standard, finalized in 2015, instructs companies to report two numbers for their scope 2 emissions, based on two different methodologies. The formula for the first is straightforward: multiply the amount of electricity your facilities consume in a given year by the average emissions produced by the local power grids where you operate. This “location-based” number is a decent approximation of the carbon emitted as a result of the company’s actual energy use.
If the company buys RECs or similar market-based instruments, it can also calculate its “market-based” emissions. Under the 2015 standard, if a company consumed 100 megawatt-hours in a year and bought 100 megawatt-hours’ worth of certificates from a solar farm, it could report that its scope 2 emissions, under the market-based method, were zero. This is what enables companies to claim they “run on 100% renewable energy.”
RECs are fundamentally different from carbon offsets, in that they do not certify that any specific amount of emissions has been prevented. They can cut carbon indirectly by creating an additional revenue stream for renewable energy projects. But when a company buys RECs from a solar project in California, where the grid is saturated with solar, it will do less to reduce emissions than if it bought RECs from a solar project in Wyoming, where the grid is still largely powered by coal, or from a battery storage project in California, which can produce clean power at night.
There are other ways RECs can vary — for instance, companies can buy them directly from power producers by means of a long-term contract, or as one-off purchases on the spot market. Spot market REC purchases are generally less effective at displacing fossil fuels because they’re more likely to come from pre-existing wind and solar farms — sometimes ones that have been operating for years and would continue with or without REC sales. Long-term contracts, by contrast, can help get new clean energy projects financed because the guaranteed revenue helps developers secure financing. (There are exceptions to these rules, but these are broadly the dynamics.)
All this is to say that the current standard allows for two companies that consumed the same amount of power and bought the same number of RECs to report that they have “zero emissions,” even if one helped reduce emissions by a lot and the other did little to nothing. Almost everyone agrees the situation can be improved. The question is how.
The proposal set for public comment next month introduces more granularity to the rules around RECs. Instead of tallying up annual aggregate energy use, companies would have to tally it up by hour and location. To lower companies' scope 2 footprints further, purchased RECs will have to be generated within the same grid region as the company’s operations, and match a distinct hour of consumption. (This “hourly matching” approach may sound familiar to anyone who followed the fight over the green hydrogen tax credit rules.)
Proponents see this as a way to make companies’ claims more credible — businesses would no longer be able to say they were using solar power at night, or wind power generated in Texas to supply a factory in Maine. While companies would still not be literally consuming the power from the RECs they buy, it would at least be theoretically possible that they could be. “It’s really, in my view, taking how we do electricity accounting back to some fundamentals of how the power system itself works,” Killian Daly, executive director of the nonprofit EnergyTag, which advocates for hourly matching, told me.
The granularity camp also argues that these rules create better incentives. Today, companies mostly buy solar RECs because they’re cheap and abundant. But solar alone can’t get us to zero emissions electricity, Ricks told me. Hourly matching will force companies to consider signing contracts with energy storage and geothermal projects, for example, or reducing their energy use during times when there’s less clean energy available. “It incentivizes the actions and investments in the technologies and business practices that will be needed to actually finish the job of decarbonizing grids,” he said.
While the standard is technically voluntary, companies that object to the revision will likely be stuck with it, as governments in California and Europe have started to integrate the Greenhouse Gas Protocol’s methodologies into their mandatory corporate disclosure rules.
The proposal’s critics, however, contend that time and location matching will be so costly and difficult to implement that it may lead companies to simply stop buying clean energy. One analysis by the electricity data science nonprofit WattTime found that the draft revision could increase emissions compared to the status quo if it causes a decline in corporate clean power procurement. “We’re looking at a potentially really catastrophic failure of the renewable energy market,” Gavin McCormick, the co-founder and executive director of WattTime, told me.
Another concern is that companies with operations in multiple regions could shift from signing long-term contracts for RECs, often called power purchase agreements, to relying on the spot market. These contracts must be large to be beneficial for developers because negotiating multiple offtake agreements for a single renewable energy project increases costs and risk. Such deals may still make sense for big energy users like data centers, but a company like Starbucks, with cafes throughout the country, will have to start sourcing fewer RECs in more places to cover all the parts of the world where they operate.
The granularity fans assert that their proposal will not be as challenging or expensive as critics claim — and regardless, they argue, real decarbonization is difficult. It should be hard for companies to make bold claims like saying they are 100% clean, Daly told me. “We need to get to a place where companies can be celebrated for being like, I’m not 100% matched, but I will be in five years,” he said.
The proposal does include carve-outs allowing smaller companies to continue to use annual matching and for legacy clean energy contracts, even if they don’t meet hourly or location requirements. But critics like McCormick argue that the whole point of revising the standard is to help catalyze greater emission reductions. Less participation in the market would hurt that goal — but more than that, these accounting rules aren’t designed to measure emissions, let alone maximize real-world emission reductions. You could still have one company that spends the time and money to invest in scarce resources at odd hours and achieves 60% clean power, while another achieves the same proportion by continuing to buy abundant solar RECs. Both would still get to claim the same sustainability laurels.
The biggest corporate defender of time and location matching is Google. On the other side are tech giants Meta and Amazon, among others, arguing for an approach more explicitly focused on emissions. They want the Greenhouse Gas Protocol to endorse a different accounting scheme that measures the fossil fuel emissions displaced by a given clean energy purchase and allows companies to subtract that amount from their total scope 2 footprint — much more akin to the way carbon offsets work.
If done right, this method would recognize the difference between a solar REC in California and one in Wyoming. It would give companies more flexibility, potentially deploying capital to less developed parts of the world that need help to decarbonize. It could also, eventually, encourage investment in less mature and therefore more expensive resources, like energy storage and geothermal — although perhaps not until there’s solar panels on every corner of the globe.
This idea, too, is risky. Calculating the real-world emissions impact of a REC, which the scope 2 working group calls “consequential accounting” is an exercise in counterfactuals. It requires making assumptions about what the world would have looked like if the REC hadn’t been purchased, both in the near term and long term. Would the clean energy have been generated anyway?
McCormick, who is a proponent of this emissions-focused approach, argues that it’s possible to measure the counterfactual in the electricity market with greater certainty than with something like forestry carbon offsets. With electricity, he told me, “there's five minute-level data for almost every power plant in the world, as opposed to forests. If you're lucky, you measure some forests, once a year. It's like a factor of 10,000 times more data, so all the models are more accurate.”
Some granularity proponents, including Ricks, agree that consequential accounting is valuable and could have a place in corporate reporting, but worry that it’s ripe for abuse. “At the end of the day, you can't ever verify whether the system you're using to assign a given company a given number is right, because you can't observe that counterfactual world,” he said. “We need to be very cautious about how it’s designed, and also how companies actually report what they’re doing and what level of confidence is communicated.”
Both proposals are flawed, and both have potential to allow at least some companies to claim progress on paper while having little real-world impact. In some ways, the disagreement is more philosophical than scientific. What should this standard be trying to achieve? Should it be steering corporate dollars into clean energy, accuracy of claims be damned? Or should it be protecting companies from accusations of greenwashing? What impacts do we care about more, faster emissions reductions or strategic decarbonization?
“They’re actually not opposing views,” McCormick told me. “There’s these people making this point and there’s these people making this point. They’re running into each other, but they’re actually not saying opposite things.”
To Michael Gillenwater, executive director of the Greenhouse Gas Management Institute, a carbon accounting research and training nonprofit, people are attempting to hide policy questions within the logic and principles of accounting. “We’re asking the emissions inventories to do too much — to do more than they can — and therefore we end up with a mess,” he told me. Corporate disclosures serve many different purposes — helping investors assess risk, informing a company’s internal target setting and performance tracking, creating transparency for consumers. “A corporate inventory might be one little piece of that puzzle,” he said.
Gillenwater is among those that think the working group’s time- and location-matching proposal would stifle corporate investment in clean energy when the goal should be to foster it. But his preferred solution is to forget trying to come up with a single metric and to encourage companies to make multiple disclosures. Companies could publish their location-based greenhouse gas inventory and then use market-based accounting to make a separate “mitigation intervention statement.” To sum it up, Gillenwater said, “keep the emissions inventory clean.”
The risk there is that the public — or indeed anyone not deeply versed in these nuances — will not understand the difference. That’s why Brander, the Edinburgh professor, argues that regardless of how it all shakes out, the Greenhouse Gas Protocol itself needs to provide more explicit guidance on what these numbers mean and how companies are allowed to talk about them.
“At the moment, the current proposals don’t include any text on how to interpret the numbers,” he said. “It’s almost incredible, really, for an accounting standard to say, here’s a number, but we’re not going to tell you how to interpret it. It’s really problematic.”
All this pushback may prompt changes. After the upcoming comment period closes in late November or early December, the working group could decide to revise the proposal and send it out for public consultation again. The entire revision process isn’t estimated to be completed until the end of 2027 at the earliest.
With wind and solar tax credits scheduled to sunset around then, voluntary action by companies will take on even greater importance in shaping the clean energy transition. While in theory, the Greenhouse Gas Protocol solely develops accounting rules and does not force companies to take any particular action, it’s undeniable that its decisions will set the stage for the next chapter of decarbonization. That chapter could either be about solving for round-the-clock clean power, or just trying to keep corporate clean energy investment flowing and growing, hopefully with higher integrity.
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Here’s where things stand after some major recent decisions.
Trump started his second term in office with a sweeping federal funding freeze that invited a spate of lawsuits all raising the same general question: Can the president refuse to spend the money Congress appropriates?
When it came to climate programs, the funds at stake included billions of dollars lawmakers had set aside for clean energy, green banks, scientific research, technological development, conservation, and environmental justice projects in the Inflation Reduction Act and the 2021 bipartisan infrastructure law.
The legal landscape has evolved significantly since this all started. Although several courts issued injunctions on the funding freeze almost immediately after it went into effect, the administration quickly moved on to terminating grants instead. Also, a lot of the IRA money that was initially caught up in the freeze is now gone, rescinded by Congress in the One Big Beautiful Bill Act of 2025.
Still, a significant chunk — more than $90 billion — was formally awarded before OBBBA took effect and remains in jeopardy. A few recent court decisions, however, suggest that some grantees may be able to see their projects through.
Here’s a guide to the current state of play.
There are generally four categories of lawsuits over the climate grants.
First are the suits challenging the legality of Trump’s freeze on IRA and infrastructure law funding, which he laid out in his Day 1 executive order “Unleashing American Energy.” In Woonasquatucket River Watershed Council v. USDA, for example, several nonprofits allege that the administration overstepped its statutory authority and acted contrary to the laws that Congress passed when agencies froze funds. In April of last year, a district court judge put a preliminary injunction on the freeze while the case played out, and the plaintiffs started receiving money again.
Second, there are a number of suits fighting the agencies’ elimination of specific programs. In Harris County v. EPA, to name one, the Texas county is suing the Environmental Protection Agency for terminating Solar for All, a $7 billion IRA program designed to fund solar projects in low-income communities. Harris County argues that the decision was arbitrary and capricious, violating the Administrative Procedures Act, and that it also violates the constitution’s separation of powers, which gives Congress the power of the purse.
Third, there are a few suits challenging the cancellation of individual grants. In City of Saint Paul, Minnesota v. Wright, for instance, the city and several other groups challenged the Department of Energy’s move to cancel more than 300 grants in blue states on the first day of a government shutdown last October. Each of the grants had an address on file with the government that was in a state that voted for Kamala Harris in the 2024 election. Saint Paul and the other plaintiffs argued that the cancellations violated equal protection under the Fifth Amendment.
Each of the cases I’ve described so far challenges Trump on statutory and constitutional grounds, and is playing out in district and appeals courts. The last category is notably different.
More recently, a number of grantees whose funding was terminated have filed lawsuits against the government in the Court of Federal Claims. These suits allege violations of the terms of the individual grant contracts, which lay out the specific circumstances under which the government can cancel an award. The key difference in these cases is that they can only result in monetary damages — the Court of Federal Claims cannot compel an agency to reinstate a grant, or weigh in on the president’s right to eliminate congressionally-mandated programs.
In Sublime Systems Inc. v. United States, for example, the clean cement company is claiming “billions of dollars in damages” in lost income, lost funding, and lost company value. The Energy Department canceled Sublime’s $87 million grant to build a first-of-a-kind cement plant last year, notifying the company that it no longer “effectuates the program/agency priorities” with no further explanation as to what had changed and why.
Perhaps the most consequential question in many of the cases is who has jurisdiction. In the district court cases, one of the government’s main arguments is that these suits are, in essence, contract disputes, and therefore belong in the Court of Federal Claims.
To date, a number of courts have weighed in on this question with mixed opinions. Most notably, the Supreme Court issued orders in two cases involving education and health grants saying that the district courts likely lacked jurisdiction to reinstate canceled grants.
These were emergency orders to provide temporary relief — a channel legal scholars refer to as the Court’s “shadow docket” — and do not carry the same legal significance as a decision on the merits of the underlying cases would. Still, some district courts have cited these orders in their judgments, concluding that allegations by grantees are contractual in nature and belong in the Court of Federal Claims. Other district courts have disregarded the Supreme Court orders and approved grantees’ requests for injunctions on the terminations. In some of those cases, however, appeals courts have later disagreed.
An important ruling on this question came in early August in the case of Climate United v. EPA. The suit involves a group of nonprofits fighting to reinstate their grants under the IRA’s $20 billion green bank program. The D.C. Circuit Court of Appeals affirmed a lower court’s preliminary injunction on the EPA’s termination of the program, cracking open the door for money to start flowing again. The appeals court’s order was short, but it notably did not raise any issue with the district court hearing the case.
The Trump administration signaled that it planned to appeal the Climate United decision to the Supreme Court. If the high court holds a full merit hearing on the case and decides it’s a contract dispute, that could not only shut down the Climate United case, but also many of the other lawsuits, and send hundreds of grantees running to the Court of Federal Claims.
Many of the cases became more complicated after the passage of the One Big Beautiful Bill Act. The law explicitly rescinded “unobligated funds” from Inflation Reduction Act programs, referring to funds that hadn’t yet been formally awarded.
The plaintiffs in the grant cases argue that because their funds were obligated prior to the OBBBA, the new law shouldn’t change anything. The Trump administration, however, has argued that since it moved to terminate the grants prior to OBBBA, they were no longer technically obligated when that law passed, and therefore the lawsuits challenging the terminations are moot.
In at least one case, The Sustainability Institute v. Trump, the district court judge rejected that argument, deeming it “without merit” in a June 2026 order and ordering the EPA to pay out the funds. The lawsuit concerns the Environmental and Climate Justice Block Grants, a $2.8 million program supporting air quality monitoring, climate adaptation, and pollution reduction. The government is appealing the decision.
In other lawsuits over grants from the Greenhouse Gas Reduction Fund, the situation is even more convoluted. Congress set aside $27 billion in the IRA for grants and loans for projects that reduce emissions, and to establish green banks that would do the same — these are the programs at stake in the Climate United and Harris County cases. OBBBA did not just rescind unobligated funds from this program, it also repealed the underlying statute establishing it.
Romany Webb, the deputy director of Columbia University’s Sabin Center for Climate Change Law, told me this complicates the arguments alleging violations of the constitution. “If you’re arguing that EPA dismantled a congressionally-approved program in violation of the separation of powers, and then afterwards Congress moves to dismantle that program, can you still make that same argument?”
In early August’s Climate United ruling, the appeals court split on what it all meant. Four of the 10 judges questioned whether the injunction on the EPA’s terminations was still warranted since, per their understanding, the repeal of the program gave the agency the ability to terminate the grants without violating the IRA. One judge, while disagreeing with that read, questioned whether EPA could be ordered to reinstate the grants, since the agency no longer had any funding to administer the program.
“There’s lots of questions about the impact of the One Big Beautiful Bill Act, both in terms of the substance of the arguments, and then if those arguments are accepted, the remedy that the court can provide,” Webb said.
At least 10 cases are currently pending in the Court of Federal Claims that hinge on the question of whether a clause in the grant contracts that allows agencies to terminate an award if it “no longer effectuates the program goals or agency priorities” gives the government cover for canceling awards with no notice or explanation.
There’s actually a separate district court fight going on over this very language on constitutional grounds. A group of 22 states, led by New Jersey, is suing the government, alleging that this language, which is standard in government funding contracts, does not give the administration permission to change its priorities on a whim. They argue that it’s intended to govern situations where the grant can no longer achieve the original program goals and agency priorities, not where the agency priorities change. In early July, the court issued an order agreeing with that interpretation. The government still has time to appeal, so it’s too soon to say how this will affect the Federal Claims court cases.
There is one set of cases where the plaintiffs have been undoubtedly successful. In the Saint Paul case I mentioned earlier, seven plaintiffs had been awarded grants by the Department of Energy for various kinds of projects — EV charging stations, methane mitigation, energy efficiency. The government’s lawyers freely admitted that the agency canceled these grants primarily because they were awarded to entities in blue states. The judge ruled that this did, in fact, violate the Fifth Amendment. She vacated the terminations in January.
After that win, another group of 11 grantees in the same situation — their grants were terminated as part of the same attack on blue states — filed suit in the same court, and the same judge vacated their terminations in June. The government has not appealed either decision. Since hundreds of other grantees could make the same discrimination argument, there may be more of these cases on the way.
Current conditions: Floodwaters swept through eastern Iowa, swelling the White River to its highest level in 113 years • A southwest monsoon, or hagabat, has capped off several weeks of storms in the Philippines that, combined, killed nearly two dozen people • Temperatures in Madrid are lingering near 100 degrees Fahrenheit until midweek, when the Spanish capital will cool off into the high 80s; the Greek capital of Athens, meanwhile, is bracing for the exact reverse.
Tropical storms almost never hit the Hawaiian islands directly. The last time a tropical system struck the archipelago was in 2018, when Tropical Storm Olivia made landfall over Maui. It was, per CTV News, the first time a storm had come ashore like that since records began in the 1950s. The last full-blown hurricane to strike the state was in 1992, when Category 4 Iniki landed on Kauai, the chain’s northernmost island, as the strongest storm on record to hit the state. But the Big Island hadn’t seen a major storm make landfall since 1900. So Tropical Storm Lala, by some measures a Category 1 hurricane, left a mark. Nearly 200,000 homes and businesses — representing roughly 70% of the Big Island — remained without electricity on Sunday night as winds of up to 75 miles per hour and floodwaters hammered the state’s infrastructure. “Customers should prepare for extended outages lasting weeks or even months in the hardest hit rural areas of Hawaii island,” Hawaiian Electric, the utility that serves 95% of the state, told the Honolulu Star-Advertiser.
“It doesn’t matter how many poles we fix in your neighborhood, they’re not going to be getting any power,” Jim Kelly, a spokesman for the utility, told Honolulu Civil Beat. “So we’ve got to focus on restoring those transmission lines first.”
Georgia has over the past decade emerged as a hotbed for cutting-edge industry in the United States. The state welcomed battery factories, solar manufacturers, and the nation’s only wholly new nuclear reactors in decades. But regulators are now cracking down on data centers. Last week, Georgia Power opted to delay the start date for a 25-year service contract to supply the ChatGPT maker OpenAI’s $20 billion data center near the state’s coast with electricity. The voluntary delay, E&E News reported, gives the utility 12 days to revise its proposal before the Public Service Commission, which had signaled its plans to reject the original pitch amid a groundswell of opposition to artificial intelligence infrastructure. The new deadline to review and approve the proposal is August 26.
The postponement comes about a week after West Virginia attempted to “clean slate” with a new set of proposals to regulate data centers aimed at undercutting the movement to block server projects across the country. Governor Patrick Morrisey, a Republican, issued a plan that calls for reducing and possibly eliminating state income taxes on the back of new revenue from AI companies. The move came after Mountain State Spotlight, a venerable investigative outlet based in West Virginia, published a report outlining how a data center developer was using the state’s patchwork of regulations to push a project with limited oversight. It’s no surprise. At least seven in 10 Americans oppose data centers being built near their homes now, according to the latest polling from Heatmap Pro.
Batteries are booming as lithium-ion units grow cheaper and more useful to back up the grid. The industry saw 70% annual growth last year, as my colleague Robinson Meyer wrote last week. But powering the grid off of batteries requires actually hooking them up to the power system. Across the country, some 750 gigawatts of energy storage projects — roughly equal to more than 700 nuclear reactors — are waiting in the queue for a grid connection, according to data the Lawrence Berkeley National Laboratory shared with Bloomberg. Not all the projects will be built. But the median wait time for a grid connection was five years in 2025, up from a year and a half in 2015.
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Last I checked, it’s actually illegal to write about the geothermal industry’s looming boom without making a pun about heat. So you’ll have to forgive the headline. But things really are getting steamy between investors and developers. When the Bureau of Land Management held a geothermal lease sale in New Mexico in June, the agency netted more than $16.5 million, making it the second-highest-grossing sale in its history, according to Utility Dive. The record-setting bid was from Rock Canyon Resources, which paid $3.14 million for one 4,479-acre tract. Another auction is set to take place in Utah on Tuesday.

The U.S. used to produce and enrich the uranium that fueled the world’s largest fleet of nuclear power stations. In the 1990s, however, then-President Bill Clinton brokered a deal to establish the famous “megatons to megawatts” with Russia, whereby American power plants promised to buy fuel made from disassembled Soviet warheads. As a nonproliferation exercise, it was a success. But the Russian fuel undercut the domestic market, putting many American miners and enrichers — already facing dimmer prospects as the U.S. stopped building new atomic power stations — out of business. By the time the 2022 invasion of Ukraine plunged Washington’s relations with Russia to their lowest point since the Cold War, the U.S. remained heavily dependent on imports from the Kremlin-owned nuclear company Rosatom. Congress banned Russian uranium imports in 2024, but allowed for waivers until the start of 2028. That cliff is fast approaching, right as one of the other largest suppliers — Kazakhstan — lowered production at its mines.
Luckily for the resurgent U.S. nuclear industry, Canada remains America’s largest supplier of uranium. And a lot of Canadian uranium is coming to the market. On Friday, NexGen Energy broke ground on the first phase of what’s expected to be one of the largest uranium mines on Earth. The project in northern Saskatchewan was first conceived more than a decade ago. The company had started drilling for samples in 2012, but failed after 13 attempts. In winter of 2014, the company tried again. “On the very first home, we hit mineralization,” NextGen CEO Leigh Curyer told CBC News. “We didn’t know it at the time, but we were on top of what has become the world’s most important energy fuel project.” Canada isn’t the only country planning for a nuclear future. Spain, the world’s last major country still pursuing a phaseout policy, seems to be inching toward saving its nuclear plants. Last week, regulators cleared the Almaraz nuclear station to operate through 2030. But NucNet cautioned that left-wing Prime Minister Pedro Sanchez’s government still planned to shut down the reactors by 2035.
Peter Thiel has invested in Facebook, SpaceX, and Palantir, where he serves as chairman of the board and co-founder. Add Argentina’s oil and gas sector to his portfolio. In a Friday filing to the U.S. Securities and Exchange Commission, the billionaire disclosed a 1% stake in Vista, one of Argentina’s largest oil companies operating in the Vaca Muerta shale formation roughly the size of Belgium, where Argentine President Javier Milei wants to ramp up fracking. Reuters reported that Thiel also recently bought a new home in Buenos Aires.
In Providence, at least, climate change is still on the ballot.
Here’s some trivia for you: What was the first state to see its average temperature break the 2-degree Celsius threshold for warming above pre-industrial levels? It wasn’t Alaska, the fastest-warming state, nor was it California or Florida, states with some of the most visible impacts of the extreme weather crisis. It was not Arizona or Texas, either, though “hot” and “warming” are often conflated.
The answer, in fact, is humble Rhode Island, which passed the international benchmark for accelerated climatic impacts back in 2019. It is perhaps less surprising, then, to learn that in the Ocean State’s largest city, Providence, climate change and how to adapt to it have become one of the central talking points in a heated mayoral race, which in the deep-blue city is likely to culminate in the September 9 primary.
There is plenty to worry voters. Providence sits at the head of Narragansett Bay, which has warmed 1.6 degrees Celsius, enough to drive lobsters from the region and convert the local lobstermen into crabbers, fishing for crustaceans they previously considered bycatch. The sea level has risen on Rhode Island’s 400-plus miles of coastline by more than 10 inches since 1930, more than in Venice or Miami, meaning the city floods frequently. Locals hold their breath every hurricane season; a hit from a category 4 or larger storm could tally billions in damages. And as home to the biggest port in the region, Providence is also an unfortunate case study in industrial and fossil-fuel-related pollution affecting historically redlined neighborhoods.
“Since I’ve been in office, we’ve had dramatic, chronic flooding. We’ve had high heat days in the fall that have closed public schools, which is not something that ever happens here in September,” Providence Mayor Brett Smiley told me. “We had some of the highest snowfall in recorded history [in the city]. We’re seeing the effects.”
Smiley, who was elected in 2022, has described investing in infrastructure upgrades for the nearly four-century-old city as one of his “principal responsibilities” as mayor. During his second year in office, he signed an ordinance requiring all of the 122 city-owned buildings to decarbonize by 2040, and that fall published a 10-year plan that introduced air quality, heat, and stormwater management goals, provisions aimed at curbing pollution at the Port of Providence, and would have effectively banned the construction of new gas stations. (A later amendment relaxed the restrictions.) He’s also invested in long-overdue repairs to the city’s hurricane barriers.
This year, Smiley also announced the creation of a Green Revolving Fund to support Providence’s ambitious carbon neutrality goals. “I’ve been in government long enough to know that operating budgets can change as priorities change, and so having a dedicated recurring revenue stream is vital to ensuring that this work continues,” he said.
In the face of federal headwinds, and at a time when the political currency of “climate change,” at least in so many words, is on the downswing, Smiley’s focus on climate issues stands out. That is especially true against the backdrop of a broader state-level reassessment of environmental goals, with Democratic Governor Dan McKee proposing a budget earlier this year that would have slashed climate programs funded by monthly utility charges in the name of affordability. Though Rhode Island lawmakers ultimately rejected that rollback, McKee’s move fits into a larger trend in the region of blue-state politicians in places like Maryland, Massachusetts, and New York curbing or weakening climate ambitions under the pressure of affordability politics. (McKee also faces his own competitive primary.)
“Providence alone can’t solve the climate crisis. But our actions, at least in Rhode Island, are pushing other communities in the state to take action,” Smiley said.
But there are others — including Smiley’s progressive challenger, State Representative David Morales — who say the mayor’s tenure has been a lot of talk and little action, and that he’s neglected Providence’s low-income and frontline communities.
Morales’ campaign did not get back to me for this article, despite requests through multiple channels. But Steve Ahlquist, an independent reporter who follows environmental justice-related issues in Rhode Island, also told me that “over the years, and also in dealing with Mayor Smiley as an incumbent, I’ve had some real difficulty with what I would even call basic honesty out of his administration.” He added that the mayor’s office has a history of downplaying and denying police harassment of unhoused people in particular, including lying about the presence of police officers at a homeless encampment and their involvement in an “illegal search” in 2023.
When I asked the Smiley administration about Ahlquist’s accusations, press secretary Carl Austin Miller Grondin told me the city has a “multi-department approach” for addressing encampments of which “Providence Police are one piece,” though he didn’t address the 2023 incident directly. As for the idea that Smiley represents the status quo, Grondin said the mayor has made “significant investments” in programs for underprivileged groups including affordable housing, eviction prevention, public schools and youth programming, and public safety.
Ahlquist also finds Smiley’s talk about affordability and clean energy false, however. Smiley notably vetoed a rent control ordinance, despite the city having some of the highest rates in the country, and while serving as former Governor Gina Raimondo’s chief of staff between 2016 and 2019, he helped push for the expansion of fossil fuel infrastructure in the form of a $1 billion fracked gas and diesel oil power plant that was ultimately thwarted by community pushback. (Grondin told me “rent control policies do not lower rents” and that the mayor “has instead taken a disciplined, results-driven approach to lowering housing costs.” The power plant project was proposed before Smiley’s tenure in Raimondo’s administration, he added.)
Morales, 27, is a Democratic Socialist and has won the backing of Vermont’s Independent Senator Bernie Sanders. His scrappy campaign against an establishment incumbent Democrat has earned him comparisons to New York City’s young, charismatic Mayor Zohran Mamdani. Unlike Mamdani, however, Morales has made climate central to his campaign.
Morales has gone after Smiley particularly hard on environmental justice issues, sensing a weak spot in his record. “Industrial facilities near the Port of Providence have polluted our neighborhoods for decades,” his issues page reads. “David will require them to contribute more toward the city services and infrastructure our communities deserve.”
A nearly two-mile stretch of Allens Avenue, which flanks the port, is home to asphalt plants, scrap metal recyclers, oil and gas companies, and petroleum storage tanks with a history of leaks, spills, dumps, and other forms of contamination. Locals complain that even just driving along the avenue is enough to make you sick, with 11 identified polluters within a mile radius of National Grid’s newest LNG plant. Traffic to and from the port adds to the odor — and health impacts — in the neighboring communities of South Providence and Washington Park, which have some of the highest hospitalization rates in southern New England. Notably, South Providence’s population is 90% people of color; Washington Park’s is above 60%.
Smiley bristled at Morales’ plan to tax polluters. “Many of my opponent’s proposals — which continue to evolve, by the way — are illegal or not allowed, and he leaves some of those details out, and sometimes changes his position,” he told me. Ahlquist, who issued a rare endorsement of Morales last spring, contends that “we know for a fact it is not illegal” to tax polluters at a different rate. (In truth, it’s a bit of a legal gray area; Providence’s tax code allows it to adopt a classification system with different rates for industrial properties, but whether that classification can be used to single out specific polluters on Allens Avenue is murkier.)
In an interview with Ahlquist, Morales has also proposed buying out the Rhode Island Recycled Metals property — where some of the worst contamination has originated — and pursuing “brownfield mediation” in the area. “I find it shameful that Public Street, one of the few shoreline access points around the Port of Providence, is not a very welcoming environment,” he said. On the adaptation side, he’s proposed passing a green energy bond to invest in renewable energy and upgrade the sewage system with an eye on future flooding.
A week ago, it might have seemed as though Morales had progressive momentum on his side. But after the upset of Democratic Socialist Francesca Hong in Wisconsin on Tuesday night and the narrow victory by progressive up-and-comer Abdul El-Sayed in Michigan the week before, the narrative is now more complicated. Meanwhile, the first primary poll shows Smiley with a 4-point edge — within the margin of error, but still likely to have the Morales campaign in a state of jitters.
Climate adaptation can sometimes fall under a variation of the refrain parodied in urban infrastructure circles: One more study would fix this. That’s especially true in Rhode Island, where study after study has highlighted the problems Morales and Smiley are circling, and yet here they still are, at the center of yet another mayoral race.
“One of the things that frustrates me is when you write a plan and then put it on the bookshelf, and that’s the end of it,” Smiley told me, sounding genuinely irked as we spoke on the phone. “That’s not how I do plans.” He told me stormwater infrastructure would be a major focus of his administration if he’s elected to another term, while he hopes his decarbonization roadmap and the green revolving fund will outlast his mayoralty, whenever and however it may end.
Morales has been stymied before, too. Ahlquist recalled watching the young legislator in the State House at the end of a legislative session, when, in the waning hours, he was told by leadership that a bill he’d been working on wasn’t going to get through. “David, when he’s in public, he’s very controlled, very managed,” Ahlquist said. But from his vantage point, Ahlquist could see Morales had started to cry.
“It’s midnight, the last days of session, and I just saw something raw in him then,” Ahlquist said. “It was like, Wow, this is a guy who really gives a shit.”
Editor’s note: This story has been updated to include responses from the Smiley campaign.