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A conversation with Stephen Pyne, the world’s most prominent wildfire historian

The world's most prominent wildfire historian found his way into his life's work by accident. A few days after he graduated from high school, Stephen Pyne had been brought on as a laborer on the South Rim of the Grand Canyon and was signing his hiring papers when he was asked if he’d be interested in joining a forest fire crew on the North Rim instead.
“I said sure,” Pyne told me. “And it was transformative. Everything I’ve done since then dates from that time on the North Rim.”
Pyne spent fifteen seasons on the North Rim, including twelve as a crew boss, and went on to study fire for a living. He became a fire historian, practically the first of his kind, joined the faculty at Arizona State University, and wrote dozens of books about the history of fire around the world. He retired from teaching in 2018, but continues to work on books — he’s wrapping up one about Mexico at the moment.
I spoke with Pyne about the history of wildfires in the United States, and what the future could look like. Our interview has been edited for length and clarity.
How have we historically thought about fire in the United States?
Well, it depends what time in history you want to go back to. The attitudes we have now are pretty recent, probably less than 100 years. The native peoples used fire widely, for all kinds of things. Heating, lighting, entertainment, agriculture, hunting, foraging, and self-protection. It was all over the place.
Europeans also had fire in their background, but always embedded within an agricultural context of pastoralism or farming. Nobody was particularly putting fires out unless it immediately threatened some asset of theirs, like their house or town. It was just sort of spring clean, part of maintenance of the landscape. So people were always around fire, it was just a constant companion. And then that changes when we began going to industrial combustion, powered by fossil fuels. Suddenly, we don't have fire around us anymore.
Where did it go?
Well, it went into machines. The burning is done off-site and we get the fire through electricity. Processed fossil biomass gave us a lot of the petrochemicals we use for agriculture, so we don't burn the fields for fertilizing and fumigating. We found all these substitutes and then we use machines to deliver those things. So it's taken fire out of the built environment.
When did the American policy of fire suppression really come into being? Was there a turning point?
A couple of things happened. Part of it is we have a long run almost 50 years after the Civil War of very large and disastrous fires. They were associated with clearing settlement, widespread logging, and a lot of it was catalyzed by railroads, which were also a source of these large, disastrous fires that were probably an order of magnitude larger than what we've seen in recent years. Hundreds of people were killed.
And then in the summer of 1910, a series of large fires sort of amassed into what became known as the Big Blowup. This was about three and a quarter million acres burned in the Northern Rockies, killing 78 firefighters the Forest Service had hired in six different incidents all at the same time, during the afternoon and evening of August 20. Traumatized the US Forest Service, which at the time was five years old.
Its leaders determined they were never going to allow that to happen again, and the two guys who were in charge of the firefighting in the Northern Rockies became chief foresters during the 1920s and 1930s. So it was just one generation of leaders, mostly younger men, who were traumatized, and the easiest way to sell the message of what they were doing was to eliminate all fires. The urban elites understood that message, because that's how urban fire services work.
So we spent about 50 years trying to take all fires out of the landscape. And we've spent the last 50 years trying to put good fire back in.
How’s that been working?
It turns out fire is one of these things that’s easy to remove and hard to reinstate. It’s like a threatened species — if you want to reintroduce a species to a landscape, you often find that a lot of conditions have changed. That’s tough to work with.
What are the conditions that have changed that made reintroducing fires so hard?
Well, a lot of it is just the forest changed. And this was a result of overgrazing. selective logging, or outright clear cutting, which allowed stuff to grow back in ways that are outside the norm. Sheep and cattle have stripped away the grasses that made light [more manageable] fires possible, and other stuff grew up in their place. Now you've paved the landscape with dense layers of pine needles and shrubs, and they don’t burn the same way, so you've created a fire trap. All of this actually started with westward expansion, before the Forest Service entered the scene.
And so that 50 year period of suppression must’ve made it worse.
Yeah, that was really disastrous. By the ‘60s, we see pushback. We’d seen the consequences. And I'll point out that this is well before global climate change is on anybody’s agenda. These landscapes were messed up ecologically. Trees and other species weren’t regenerating.
So what starts happening in the ‘60s?
We saw civil society begin to create an alternative to state-sponsored fire suppression. There was a ranch north of Tallahassee that began hosting fire ecology conferences in 1962, they really introduced the term fire ecology. That same year, the Nature Conservancy conducted its first burn at a prairie because they couldn’t maintain the prairie without burning.
It was a real David versus Goliath story. Forestry was too dyed-in-the-wool hostile towards fire. They had sort of made their public identity as firefighters. But all kinds of things started coming together and there was the sentiment that fire should be restored just like wolves and grizzlies.
You mentioned burning had historically been done by the indigenous communities. How involved were those communities in these discussions? Were they involved at all?
Almost none. There were some people who was reintroducing fire to indigenous reservations, but they were foresters with the Bureau of Indian Affairs. But it’s only much more recently that [Native American communities] have sort of taken on cultural burning as a way of restoring their identities and their traditions and maybe even claiming back some of their lands.
We often say that colonialism suppressed indigenous knowledge. Well, that’s true. But something that gets lost, I think, all the time, is that there was a quarrel between the elites and traditional knowledge. Europe’s elites treated Europe’s peasants with disdain as well. Many of the white settlers who weren’t elites used fire as well, but the elites didn’t like that.
Obviously in the last couple of weeks Hawaii has been on everyone's mind. What’s the history of fire in Hawaii?
Before it was colonized, Hawaii was fairly immune to fire. The forests don’t seem to have been particularly responsive to it. You have lightning caused fires, you have volcanoes that set fires but then the lava was the bigger problem there.
Fire in Hawaii starts with human contact, when they begin clearing the forest and introducing exotics. This started with Polynesians before Europeans got into the act. There was a lot of extermination particularly of flightless birds and they introduced pigs and rats and other things. But then it really began accelerating with European contact, when they converted large areas to plantations for sugar and pineapples or grass pastures to raise cows, and so forth. So you have larger scale land clearing that goes on.
But Hawaii was not built to burn in the way California is. We created more combustible landscapes. Tropical grasses grow very well there and burn very well, and once they burn they create conditions that are more favorable to themselves. So it’s a positive feedback system.
We’ve seen a lot of coverage about how climate change is going to intensify wildfires. What do you, as a person who studies wildfires from around the world, think needs to happen going forward?
I mean, these really nasty megafires we've seen recently and that are doing a lot of damage to communities are really a pathology of the developed world. You don’t you don’t see these in the developing world. They have lots of burning, but they don’t have these massive fires.
I think we need to do three things, and we need to do them at the same time. The first is to protect our communities. It’s totally absurd that we have so many fires started by power lines. There’s no reason for towns to burn, and we know how to keep them from burning. So hardening our cities is the first step. The second is we need to recover the countryside. Not just wild lands, but the countryside. We have to put it into a shape that makes fire control easier and will probably also enhance the biology of the site. There are a lot of controversies around that, and there’s but we have got to have ways of negotiating all those values and perceptions. But that’s something that can be done.
The third thing we need to do is tame climate change. We can do a lot of mitigation but at some point unless the accelerating climate upheaval isn’t stopped and even reversed, it will override all the other stuff we do.
Do you think of fire as something to fear?
I think there’s bad fire. Bad fire kills people, it destroys towns, it can trash ecosystems. Fire can do a lot of damage, but it can also be absolutely essential. So it’s not either good or bad.
We have a species monopoly over fire. We made a mutual assistance pact with it a long time ago. You have to tend it, you have to feed it, you have to train it, you have to clean up after it. You have to integrate it into social activities. It’s not just a physical tool like a hammer or an axe that can be picked up and put down. It’s something we domesticated in a way. And we’ve lost control over what’s been a companion that we’ve had for all our existence as a species.
We are fire creatures. You know, we use fire in a way that no other creature does. We’ve abrogated that role. We’ve abused it. But it’s only in the last century or so that we have lost the capacity to manage fire. So this is just us reclaiming our heritage and taking responsibility for the power that our relationship with fire gave us. It’s not beyond our ability to deal with it.
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Comparing data from the Electricity Price Hub with analysis from Heatmap Pro reveals a complicated story.
The timing was terrible. In December, just as the Canadian developer Hut 8 was preparing to ask regulators in a rural county of central Illinois to rezone an open stretch of land to make way for a data center, Americans’ support for the computing infrastructure expansion was plummeting, with voters blaming the big tech projects for driving up electricity costs.
The optics turned out to be even worse. The location Hut 8 selected was right next to the local electricity substation, making it easy to see the project as an industrial parasite glugging down electricity at the source and letting what remained trickle out to Logan County’s roughly 28,000 residents. When the county held a public hearing on the rezoning proposal in January, 250 residents showed up in protest and repeatedly cited the data center’s potential location next to the substation.
“It immediately raised red flags. You can picture this massive thing sitting next to the substation, sucking up all the power before it gets to the community,” Charlie Clynes, a data analyst for Heatmap Pro who has tracked the project, told me. “Obviously that’s not exactly how things work, but the imagery there was arresting.”
It also wasn’t entirely off base. Data center development can hike electricity bills in a variety ways, including by stressing existing generation resources and by demanding costly new infrastructure buildouts. Data from Heatmap and MIT’s Electricity Price Hub shows that the price of electricity in the county may, indeed, have played a role in hiking prices enough to spur a movement against the project: Between 2020 and 2026, generation costs roughly doubled.
Scenes like the one in Logan County are playing out across the country as the advent of artificial intelligence coincides with rising electricity prices and threatens to create a demand crisis.
But opposition to AI doesn’t always correlate with rising electricity prices.
Logan County earned a score of 69 on Heatmap Pro’s data center opposition index, which incorporates everything from real-world project outcomes to about 100 input variables, including economic, demographic, and geographic characteristics to quantify the likelihood that a project will face pushback in a given area. Nearly 70 might sound high, but it puts Logan County just outside the 100 counties most opposed to data center development.
In Botetourt County, Virginia, which topped the data center opposition index with a score of 101, residents are engaged in an active fight against a planned Google data center. Data from the Electricity Price Hub shows that the cost of generation surged 45% from 2020 to 2026, transmission spiked 29%, and distribution surged roughly 90%. The broad category of “other” — a category that includes miscellaneous expenses such as taxes, regulatory fees, insurance, and payroll (as Heatmap’s Jeva Lange explained here) — rocketed up by more than 104%. But here’s the rub: Botetourtians cite water usage as a top concern about data center development, not necessarily electricity prices.
In Bartow County, Georgia, which tied with Rogers County, Oklahoma, for second place on the index, generating costs rose by more than a third from 2020 to 2026, from $0.07 per kilowatt-hour to $0.09, leading to a total bill increase of nearly 30%. (You can find out more on the difference between electricity prices and bills from my colleague Emily Pontecorvo.) Rogers County, similarly, saw a roughly 50% spike in generation costs and an increase in transmission and distribution costs of more than a third each.
Hendricks County, Indiana, where residents unsuccessfully battled to stop a 600-megawatt AI data center from coming to fruition, came in ninth place on Heatmap Pro’s opposition index. Sure enough, the data shows a roughly 140% surge in distribution costs on ratepayers’ bills from 2020 and 2026, from $0.10 to $0.30 per kilowatt-hour.
In Cass County, Michigan, by contrast, distribution costs ticked up only slightly in recent years. Yet the county, which ranked seventh on the opposition index, is facing fierce opposition to a 340-megawatt AI data center proposed in the area, highlighting the inconsistent role electricity prices play in opposition movements.
Heatmap Pro also tracks opposition to renewables development, which is often the cheapest and fastest way to add power to the grid amid surging demand. The top of the list is a 63-way tie, mostly involving counties in the Central and Upper Midwest.
Then there’s Somerset County in Maine, which has been home to various utility-scale wind and solar developments in recent years. The cost of distributing power there has roughly doubled for customers of the three utilities serving the county, from $0.35 per kilowatt-hour at the start of 2020 to more than $0.63 by this January. Many Mainers blamed the state’s renewable energy goals for the spike in prices, but price hub data confirms the conclusions of a report from The Brattle Group released in February, which blamed the state’s reliance on natural gas, as well as the cost of repairs and upgrades to an aging grid.
News about Rivian spinoff Also, EmeraldAI, Via Separations, and more of the week’s big money moves.
This week brings a pleasing balance of electric mobility and deeptech news to break up the steady drumbeat of AI funding announcements — though of course there are plenty of those, too. To kick it off, Rivian spinoff Also announced a sizable Series C round just a year after its last fundraise to buoy its lineup of electric bikes and compact quad vehicles. There’s also fresh funding for Via Separations, which is working to electrify the kind of high-heat industrial processes that most of us depend on but never think about. And on the AI front, there’s new capital for data center flexibility platform Emerald AI and grid intelligence company ThinkLabs AI.
Our humble grid is sure getting complicated. Good thing there’s a whole host of companies now looking to build data centers in space! More on that, too.
In the U.S. over half of all car trips are under 6 miles, and about 80% are 15 miles or fewer. For many of these short journeys, a full-sized car with five seats, a spacious trunk, and precise climate control is simply not necessary. That’s where micromobility solutions come in — and where the Rivian spin-off Also sees its niche. The company is building smaller EVs from e-bikes to quads capable of carrying multiple passengers or hundreds of pounds of cargo while still fitting in the bike lane.
This week, the startup announced a $200 million Series C round led by Greenoaks Capital, pushing the company's valuation to $1 billion — not bad considering it spun out of Rivian just over a year ago. DoorDash joined the round as a strategic investor, inking a multi-year deal with Also to develop autonomous delivery vehicles to tackle last-mile challenges. “The intersection of roads and road-adjacent spaces, such as bike lanes, shoulders and curbsides, are the areas that make up the hardest part of the last-mile delivery puzzle,” the company states in its release, explaining these environments are where Also has “the greatest opportunity to perform.”
Also has an additional corporate partnership with Amazon, announced last fall, to design a pedal-assist cargo quad for deployment across Europe and the U.S. This vehicle is slated for launch this year, while the company’s bike is already available for pre-order and expected to begin shipping soon.
Industrial separations — the process of extracting a specific chemical or material from a mixture — may not immediately scream “climate tech.” It’s one of those foundational techniques that you rarely think about, yet somehow underpins everything from paper and pulp production to plastics and oil refining. But Via Separations thinks it’s found a way to perform this industrial necessity in a way that’s significantly less energy and emissions intensive — and this week it raised $36 million to do it at scale.
Today, industrial separations typically rely on heat-based processes like distillation, which sorts out substances based on their differing boiling points. But heating and reheating all that liquid requires boatloads of energy, and thermal separation as a whole accounts for roughly 12% of global energy use.
Via’s approach electrifies this process using membranes that allow only specific substances to pass through. It’s made advances in designing durable membranes that can perform under harsh industrial conditions, and now claims its process can cut energy use by up to 90% at the separation stage. Via has already demonstrated its tech at a Canadian pulp mill, where it’s operated for nearly two years. Now, as the startup moves into the much larger refining and chemicals industries, it says it’s completed a pilot at an unnamed Gulf Coast refinery and has hundreds of millions of dollars in projects lined up.
Climate Investment — a firm founded by a coalition of oil and gas companies — led the round alongside Aramco Ventures and Marathon Petroleum Corporation, which are all interested in putting Via’s tech to work in the oil refining and chemicals markets.
It’s no secret that data centers are insatiable power consumers, and that our modern grid simply wasn’t built to handle the amount of new load they’re bringing online. As I wrote last summer, the startup Emerald AI is confident this challenge can be largely solved by turning data centers from “grid liabilities into flexible assets.” By slowing, pausing, or redirecting AI workloads when energy demand is peaking — a mere 0.5% of the time — Emerald estimates it could unlock up to 100 gigawatts of existing grid capacity, enough to power about 83 million U.S. homes for a year.
It’s a compelling vision, already backed by prominent investors including Nvidia’s venture arm, former U.S. Special Presidential Envoy for Climate John Kerry, Kleiner Perkins chair John Doerr, and Lowercarbon Capital. This week, Energy Impact Partners joined the mix, leading Emerald’s $25 million expansion round joined by other strategic investors such as GE Vernova and Siemens.
The funding follows last week’s CERAWeek announcement that Emerald and Nvidia are partnering to launch flexible-demand “AI factories” alongside energy companies including AES, Constellation, and NextEra Energy. To avoid the backlogged interconnection queues, these facilities will initially rely on co-located power. Then once they’re able to connect, their co-located energy and storage assets will flip to providing flexible grid services, storing excess cheap energy and providing power back to the grid during times of peak demand.
As Emerald’s CEO Varun Sivaram said in a press release about the partnership, “AI factories are too valuable to be treated as either passive loads or permanent islands.”
AI-driven load growth is undoubtedly straining the limits of our outdated grid — but it’s also giving planners and operators new tools to run it more efficiently and reliably. This week, grid intelligence company ThinkLabs AI raised a $28 million Series A round, also led by Energy Impact Partners, to scale its software for modeling power flow on the grid.
In an era dominated by large language models, ThinkLabs says it’s doing something fundamentally different — training AI on physics-based simulators to model grid behavior in real time, making it possible to rapidly test a wide range of hypothetical scenarios. How rapidly? The startup says it can complete planning studies that once took months in a matter of minutes and run 10 million scenarios in 10 minutes, all while maintaining greater than 99.7% accuracy.
This allows utilities to proactively plan for emerging stresses — from new data centers and clusters of EV chargers coming online to extreme weather events that threaten critical infrastructure. "The legacy tools and processes utilities currently rely on can take months to complete a single study, cost tens to hundreds of thousands of dollars in engineering time, and the results are out of date the moment the study is finished,” Josh Wong, ThinkLabs’ CEO, said in a press release. “ThinkLabs’ AI-native high performance grid simulation model not only shows you the problems but also gives you the best solutions."
With SpaceX planning to go public and Artemis II on its way to the moon, the Earth feels abuzz with hope over extraterrestrial infrastructure. Now, the startup Starcloud wants to build data centers in space, and it just raised a $170 million Series A to help make it happen. Investors clearly don’t think the concept is as far-fetched as it sounds, given that they have valued the company at over $1 billion, a mere 17 months after its graduation from Y Combinator.
Worldly concerns such as grid interconnection queues, aging transmission systems, and mounting political opposition don’t apply to orbital data centers, though a laundry list of more technical challenges definitely do. But Starcloud appears undeterred, launching its first satellite equipped with an Nvidia GPU last November. It’s now preparing a more advanced satellite for later this year, outfitted with multiple GPUs and a Bitcoin-mining computer, of course.
Petrostates are also big cleantech investors.
The closure of the Strait of Hormuz has already propagated across the global energy and climate ecosystem in countless ways. To name just a few, there’s skyrocketing gasoline prices, a coal comeback, tailwinds for U.S. liquified natural gas, and aluminum price spikes that raise costs for solar panels.
But if you continue to follow the money, you could start to see repercussions for emergent climate technologies, too — think electric mobility, clean hydrogen, alternative fuels, carbon removal, and carbon capture.
Billions of dollars from Gulf states — including the United Arab Emirates, Saudi Arabia, Kuwait, and Qatar — flow into climate tech every year via sovereign wealth funds and the investment arms of regional oil and gas giants such as Saudi Aramco and the Abu Dhabi National Oil Company. With attacks on energy infrastructure causing extensive damage and millions of barrels of oil — the region’s largest export — and other petrochemical products now stranded in the Gulf due to the strait’s effective closure, fossil fuel revenues are falling across much of the region, even as commodity prices spike. The longer this status quo remains, the greater the threat could be to these countries’ ability to disburse climate tech capital.
This could have significant repercussions for decarbonization startups, Johanna Wolfson, co-founder of the early-stage climate tech investment firm Azolla Ventures, told me. Outside of the U.S. government’s current favored technologies — data centers, nuclear, geothermal, and critical minerals — “there’s increasingly scarce early-stage risk-embracing venture dollars,” she said. That’s a gap that strategic investors such as oil and gas-backed investment vehicles typically help fill, as many of them “have patient long term capital, or at least a different way of evaluating business outcomes or ROI than a typical venture investor would.”
Now, Wolfson said, she wouldn’t be surprised to see regional investors pulling back on some of these more forward-looking initiatives.
The ecosystem linking climate capital with Gulf money has grown increasingly tangled over the years, especially since COP28 in Dubai. There, the United Arab Emirates launched Altérra, a climate focused investment fund that’s since deployed $6.5 billion to anchor multi-billion dollar climate funds from Brookfield Asset Management, Blackrock and TPG Rise Climate. The specific companies and projects these institutional giants have gone on to back, however, remain largely undisclosed. Meanwhile, Saudi Arabian pension fund Hassana has also invested $1.5 billion in TPG Rise Climate.
Following the money is unsurprisingly easier for venture investing. Aramco Ventures, the oil giant’s VC arm, led the seed round for direct air capture company Spiritus, while also backing big names such as long-duration battery startup Form Energy, green steel developer Boston Metal, and thermal energy storage company Rondo Energy.
As for the region’s primary investment vehicle — sovereign wealth funds that manage surplus capital largely derived from oil and gas revenues — their capital flows are also often obfuscated. When they invest as limited partners their names are typically kept private, and they frequently funnel money through subsidiaries operating under different monikers.
Some big name deals have broken through, though. The Saudis, for example, have been enthusiastic backers of electric vehicles. The Public Investment Fund took a roughly $2 billion stake in Tesla back in 2018, and owns a majority share in luxury EV-maker Lucid Motors, which plans to start manufacturing vehicles in the kingdom by year’s end. Abu Dhabi Investment Authority funded utility-scale solar company Arevon, another Abu Dhabi-based fund, Mubadala, backs the offshore wind company Skyborn Renewables, and the Qatar Investment Authority co-led the Series D round for EV battery producer Ascend Elements.
“There’s a good reason that Saudi and other sovereign wealth funds are investing in these technologies and these startups,” Daan Walter, principal at the clean energy think tank Ember, told me. “It’s a really good hedge for their own oil business, and many U.S. banks are highly exposed to fossil fuels.”
That doesn’t mean these investments will remain attractive if Gulf states’ oil revenues continue to suffer, however. “Those looking to raise capital in the region should probably allow for some slow responses for a while,” Paul O’Brien, the former deputy chief investment officer at the sovereign wealth fund Abu Dhabi Investment Authority, told ImpactAlpha. That said, he figures that “deal flow should resume soon after the Strait of Hormuz opens.”
Restarting regional clean energy projects may prove more challenging. Wolfson told me the war is already affecting some companies in Azolla’s portfolio that are evaluating pilot opportunities in the Gulf, a region marked by both unique climate risks and a willingness to embrace early-stage tech. “We definitely are seeing a pause on those activities, understandably” she told me. “When this is going on in one’s backyard, you need to pause things that are not critical.”
What’s certain, Francis O’Sullivan, a managing director at the firm S2G Investments, told me, is that even once the strait opens back up, “this is not a switch it back on and everything is fine kind of dynamic.” Since the conflict broke out, many Gulf producers have been forced to cut oil production as their storage tanks fill up. Once hostilities subside, oil wells and refineries could still take weeks to ramp up to prior levels. Then it might be a matter of months before the backlog of fuel, food, and other materials clears the strait and shipping supply chains return to normal. The energy infrastructure that’s been damaged — such as the Ras Laffan LNG terminal in Qatar — could take years and billions of dollars to rebuild.
Restoring business as usual could draw the Gulf’s sovereign wealth funds away from their core climate-related priorities like green hydrogen, clean fuels, and carbon capture. Saudi Arabia’s Public Investment Fund, for example, could abandon its stated target of investing over $10 billion in green projects by year’s end. The kingdom has ambitious aims to generate 50% of its electricity from renewables by 2030, and has previously declared its intention to become the planet’s largest hydrogen supplier by 2030 as well as to develop one of the world’s largest carbon capture, utilization, and storage facilities by 2035. These hydrogen and CCUS goals were absent from the country’s latest national development plan released in April of last year, however, indicating that enthusiasm was perhaps already waning.
Walter isn’t surprised. In his view, the climate tech priorities of oil-rich Gulf states tend to favor industries that preserve the existing energy order, and their commitments may not be deeply held. After all, carbon capture helps clean up fossil fuels, while hydrogen for transport and heavy industry can complement rather than replace oil. “I’ve always seen that more as a way to keep the status quo running and argue, we’ll fix this in the future,” he told me. “I’m sure those projects will be scrapped first.”
Sure enough, blue hydrogen production, which pairs fossil-fuel derived hydrogen with carbon capture and storage, is becoming increasingly uncertain amid low investor demand. Saudi Aramco has scaled back its target from 11 million to 2.5 million annual metric tons while ADNOC has indefinitely postponed one of its blue hydrogen projects. And while Saudi Arabia is also attempting to build the world’s largest green hydrogen project to help supplement its oil exports, this too has been struggling to secure international buyers.
Perhaps it goes without saying that the Iran war will do little to buoy the financial fortunes of overly ambitious mega-projects and industries already grappling with limited demand. But even if the Gulf-to-climate tech funding pipelines remain disrupted and attention shifts to urgent regional priorities like rebuilding damaged infrastructure, the reality remains: Deploying renewables and battery storage is often the most reliable — and cost-effective — way for nations to secure their energy supply and shield themselves from future fossil fuel price shocks.
Since the last major energy price spike following Russia’s invasion of Ukraine, costs for solar panels and battery systems have continued to fall — with panels roughly halving in price and battery systems dropping by about 36%, according to Ember. “This is the first oil shock where there is a superior alternative.” Walter told me. And the first “that doesn’t require countries to intervene.” He expects that when left to their own devices, consumers will make economically rational choices, leading to a significant uptick in adoption of rooftop solar, home batteries, EVs, and heat pumps — particularly in emerging economies outside the U.S. and Europe, where tariffs on Chinese clean tech don’t exist.
When it comes to tech that has yet to be commercialized, such as clean fuels, long-duration energy storage, and carbon capture and removal, Walter is counting on governments to step in where hobbled Gulf investors may no longer be able to. “There’s a wishful thinking component to it, which is that surely governments realize that this is the solution,” he told me. And yet he believes they truly are beginning to see the light, as the importance of energy security becomes more apparent by the day.
“Surely they realize that you cannot now throw the startups in the space by the wayside because they really, really need the support,” he told me. “I hope that governments across the West are prescient enough to realize that someone else needs to step in to bridge the gap for the coming years.”
Editor’s note: This story has been updated to clarify the context of Johanna Wolfson’s remarks.