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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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The startup and the city announced the contract on Tuesday.
The City of New York announced on Tuesday that it will partner with curbside charging startup it’s electric to expand the city’s PlugNYC electric vehicle charging network from 88 curbside charge points today to around 700 by 2030.
“To put in perspective how important this is,” Tiya Gordon, it’s electric’s co-founder and COO, told me. “London and New York City have similar populations. But London has around 27,000 curbside EV chargers while New York City has just 88 so this is a major opportunity for expansion.”
The $60.2 million contract, which covers both installation and five years of operation, is part of New York’s Green Rides Initiative, which aims to replace all rideshare vehicles on the city’s streets with either zero-emission or wheelchair-accessible alternatives by 2030. The program began in 2021 with a pilot in partnership with electric utility Con Edison and EV charging startup FLO. Phase one of the new agreement will involve replacing those chargers with it’s electric models by early 2027, followed by a second phase that will involve installing 600 additional chargers across the city’s five boroughs — the largest municipal curbside charging buildout in the country to date.
The new charging stations will have four chargers apiece for a total of nearly 150 new stations, are just the first step towards addressing this explosion in demand. Each station will come equipped with Level 2 chargers, which can charge a vehicle to 100% of its battery level within seven hours. The city says it will encourage off-peak or overnight charging through “pricing [focused] on affordability while encouraging reasonable turnover,” such as the pilot program’s time-differentiated pricing structure. Where feasible, the stations will beature docking connections to charge e-bikes.
As of February, approximately 13% of New York City’s rideshare vehicles were electric, but that number is growing as both Uber and Lyft’s aim to electrify their entire U.S. fleets by 2030. According to Gordon, commuting to rapid charging stations throughout the city and waiting for a station to become available while on shift costs drivers 30% of their income. Rapid chargers exacerbate the problem; they slow down significantly once the charge reaches 80% to prevent the EV battery from overheating, forcing drivers to either wait for significantly longer or make more frequent stops to charge.
“They’re losing a lot of their income in driving to the limited number of public fast charging stations in New York City — because there’s just two in Brooklyn, two in Manhattan, and a few at the airports,” Gordon said. “Access to curbside charging solves the majority of their problems as they can charge off-shift with a Level 2 charger on the curbside overnight.”
To enable drivers to charge while not on shift, the city will select locations where a greater concentration of rideshare drivers live, especially in outer boroughs far away from the suburban driveways or paid parking garages that typically house charging stations. Incorporating input from drivers, the Department of Transportation has already selected 10 neighborhoods across the city, including Stapleton in Staten Island and Unionport in the Bronx.
it’s electric itself is headquartered in the Brooklyn Navy Yard and manufactures its sleek, futuristic charging stations in Long Island City, Queens. Gordon first conceived of the company while walking through Brooklyn during the Covid-19 pandemic with her co-founder, Nathan King, commiserating over the struggle to find an affordable, convenient place to charge an EV. As the company grew, Gordon and King chose to keep manufacturing local not only to avoid tariff or supply chain complications, but also to deliver jobs in New York City across the entire value chain of an electric charging station — manufacturing, installation, operations, and maintenance. The company contracts with manufacturer Boyce Technologies, which also supplies the Help Point kiosks in the city’s subway system.
it’s electric’s design eliminates a bottleneck that often delays the construction of EV charging stations: the utility interconnection and permitting process. Instead of tapping into the grid, its chargers taps into the electricity supply in nearby buildings via a shallow conduit just below the sidewalk, leveraging spare electrical capacity. The charging stations meter and pay for their own electricity use, and in exchange for the building’s surplus power, it’s electric shares its revenue with building owners. While the first tranche of charging stations the company launches in New York City will be traditional utility-connected chargers, the NYC Department of Transportation confirmed to me that it may use the capacity-sharing design in future expansions.
Though it’s electric has installed these capacity-sharing chargers in major U.S. cities including Boston, Philadelphia, San Francisco, Detroit, and Washington D.C., the New York City project represents a major step up in scale — the 700 chargers it will deliver for New York City comprise almost half of the 2,000 chargers in its current pipeline. To support these projects and hire additional staff, the company also announced on Tuesday that it has raised a new bridge round of seed funding led by Halogen Ventures, bringing its total funding to $15 million.
Gordon thinks the expansion of EV charging in New York City is significant not just for her company, but for the EV industry on the whole. “It signals to the world that the U.S. is not backing down from electrification and is still moving forward in meaningful ways,” she told me. Next, Gordon is eyeing the global market. “The technology that we have really differentiates us because we can power our chargers from a variety of sources — the utility connection, an adjacent building, or even wooden utility poles overhead. The next announcements from it’s electric will center around our expansion from NYC to other countries.”
On a Russia-Ukraine truce, Dems’ climate shift, and Ambler Road
Current conditions: Temperatures in Laredo, Texas, are soaring past 103 degrees Fahrenheit amid a heat wave scorching the Southern and Central United States • Tropical Storm Norbert is weakening in the Pacific right as another depression is strengthening into Tropical Storm Odalys • South Africa’s KwaZulu-Natal is facing severe thunderstorms with winds of up to 50 miles per hour.
President Donald Trump declared a truce Monday morning between Russia and Ukraine over energy infrastructure, claiming that both countries had agreed to stop attacking refineries, pipelines, and power plants going forward despite those facilities representing frequent targets since the war began in 2022. In a post on his Truth Social platform, the U.S. leader said record-high diesel prices were “mostly caused by the Russia/Ukraine war, not Iran,” suggesting prices would come down now that “Ukraine has agreed to not hit Russian energy targets” and “Russia has agreed to do likewise.” Neither Kyiv nor Moscow has confirmed the pact, according to Reuters.
Meanwhile, the price of Brent crude, the global oil benchmark set out of Europe, briefly surpassed $109 per barrel before coming back down to $106 by the time the market closed Monday. West Texas Intermediate, out of the U.S., hit about $102, while Murban crude from the United Arab Emirates shot up 10% to $131 per barrel. The latest surge came after Saudi Arabia halted shipments via its East-West Pipeline, the main conduit through which the kingdom has exported oil since the Strait of Hormuz’s closure stopped tankers from leaving the Persian Gulf.
The average fuel surcharge for grain shipments on U.S. railways more than doubled over the past year, in the latest sign of how soaring energy prices will spur inflation of food costs. The surcharge skyrocketed 153% to 48 cents per rail car-mile by the second week of September, according to a Reuters analysis of U.S. Department of Agriculture data. The surcharges accounted for 11% of the total rail transportation costs for shipping corn and soybeans, compared to 5% a year ago. Railroads collected about $3 billion in fuel surcharges in the second quarter of this year, covering 90% of diesel costs. The situation highlights why now is “the worst time for diesel to get expensive,” my colleague Matthew Zeitlin wrote last month, since harvest season is around the corner and most farming equipment runs on the fuel.
House Democrats are out with their first new climate agenda since the Green New Deal’s glory days of 2020. This time, however, it’s more of what the top Democrat behind the proposal called “a workable plan for long term economic and job growth” than an emissions-cutting blitz. My colleague Emily Pontecorvo has a detailed breakdown of what’s in it, but here are the five big takeaways:
“We’re not introducing a bill after this,” Representative Kathy Castor, the Florida Democrat who oversaw the project to draft the agenda, told Emily. “We’re providing it to policymakers in Washington for them to build the bipartisan support you need to get something across the finish line. The Trump administration is going to be there for two more years. What can we get done now that would have bipartisan support?”
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The U.S. needs $110 billion to build 45 gigawatts of new power generation through 2030 to meet the surging demand from data centers, according to a Moody’s Ratings analysis. More than 30 gigawatts of that supply is slated to come from natural gas-fired plants, with solar and storage making up much of the rest and nuclear restarts accounting for less than 5%, Bloomberg reported. That all sounds like a lot. But consider that the U.S. started this year on track to add 86 gigawatts of new generation, much of which it from solar and storage, according to data from the U.S. Energy Information Administration. In other words, we deployed nearly twice as much new generation in the past year as we would need for data centers through the end of this decade.
The nation’s largest operator of nuclear and geothermal power plants, Constellation Energy, certainly sees gas as the likelier near-term source of power generation in New England. On Monday, Utility Dive reported that the utility giant plans to buy the 609-megawatt Rhode Island State Energy Center from Shell Energy for $715 million. It’s easy to see why gas looks like a safe bet. Three Massachusetts utilities are now suing Hydro-Quebec, the state-owned utility in Canada’s French-speaking province, over a shortfall in deliveries during particularly hot days this summer — while Hydro-Quebec is, in turn, suing for payments it says the American power companies owe, according to Canary Media. That electricity drama is unfolding as New Englanders prepare to “pay through the nose to stay warm this winter” as the price of heating fuel soars, Matthew wrote last week.

Almost exactly a year ago, Trump issued an executive order approving the long-stalled federal project to build a road through the Alaskan wilderness to support production of minerals from the remote Ambler Mining District. Now the U.S. government is taking a 10% stake in Trilogy Metals, the 50% co-owner of a joint venture with the Australian miner South32 focused on extracting copper, zinc, and other metals from the site. As part of the deal, the company said in a press release, the Department of Defense “committed to work in good faith to help facilitate financing required for construction of the proposed 211-mile, industrial-use-only Ambler Road.”
The Pentagon also inked a $450 million deal with The Elmet Group, an integrated miner and processor, with $150 million earmarked for Toronto-based Blue Moon Metals’ tungsten mine in Nevada, Mining.com reported.
There’s still an open debate about how much of the nuclear supply chain Saudi Arabia would be allowed to control under the kingdom’s coveted deal with the Trump administration. Whether the Saudis should enrich — or, even more worrying from a nonproliferation standpoint, recycle — nuclear fuel will generate heated discussion in the years to come. But it looks increasingly likely that the oil-rich nation will mine at least some of its own uranium. “Exploration and geological studies at the Jabal Sayid project in Madinah have revealed estimated resources of around 110 million tonnes of ore with high concentrations of rare earth minerals, especially the heavy elements, alongside promising concentrations of uranium,” Prince Abdulaziz bin Salman, the kingdom’s energy minister, told Arab News.
A new set of policy proposals from House illustrates a marked change in rhetoric since 2020.
Nine House Democrats from the Sustainable Energy and Environment Coalition published a sweeping federal policy blueprint on Tuesday called the Thriving Economy Project. While it is explicitly not a policy platform, it is the first window we’ve gotten into how lawmakers are thinking about their next set of climate moves in the post-One Big Beautiful Bill Act era.
The last time House Democrats published a major energy and environment policy document was in 2020, when the House Select Committee on the Climate Crisis released the aptly titled report “Solving the Climate Crisis.” The Thriving Economy Project covers many of the same themes as that 2020 platform — energy, agriculture, disaster recovery, innovation. It even contains some of the same policy proposals. But as the contrast in titles suggests, the approach is markedly different.
The 2026 version doesn’t call itself climate policy at all. Though it contains plenty of proposals to support cleaner energy and reduced emissions, it frames them in terms of affordability, economic opportunity, resilience, and competitiveness, rather than as a means to stop planetary warming. The words “climate change” aren’t entirely absent, but they appear primarily as the context for proposals to improve disaster preparedness, response, and recovery, or to adapt infrastructure to higher seas and hotter days.
This isn’t a huge shock. We’ve written quite a bit at Heatmap about how climate change advocacy is shifting away from talking about the crisis directly to messaging about the benefits of actions that just so happen to cut carbon or shore up communities against disasters. When I compared the number of times certain words and phrases appeared in the 2020 package versus this new one, the evidence of that rhetorical shift was decisive.
Mentions of “climate change” dropped from more than 500 to 22. Whereas the 2020 package cited the “climate crisis” more than 150 times, the new report casually references it in just four places. In 2020, Democrats framed their entire platform around hitting “net-zero” by 2050, citing the goal 139 times. Net-zero appears just once in the new package in a chapter about investing in innovation. According to the International Energy Agency’s “Net Zero Roadmap,” it says, about a third of the emissions reductions required to get there “will come from technologies still under development.”
While lawmakers took a stand six years ago to fight for “environmental justice,” that term is wholly absent from the new report. Instead of pushing for policies that improve outcomes for “communities of color,” a phrase which appears just five times in the Thriving Economy Project, it focuses on building “thriving communities” and improving outcomes for “low income” and “underserved” populations.
It’s easy to be cynical about the political calculation these rhetorical shifts reflect, but the two policy platforms were also written for different audiences. Florida Representative Kathy Castor, a Democrat who led the creation of both versions, told me that the goal of the Thriving Economy Project was to come up with policies that could be adopted in the next two years. “This effort is driven by solving problems ASAP where we think there can be bipartisan support,” she said. The 2020 document, by contrast, was a wishlist for a future Democrat-led Congress and administration. Much of what was in it later became part of the Infrastructure Investment and Jobs Act and the IRA, but has since been dismantled under Trump.
The increased frequency of certain other terms — such as “energy security,” “cybersecurity,” and “geopolitical” — is also a reminder that between the war over Ukraine, the war in Iran, and the AI race, a lot really has changed since 2020.
Just because the report is not explicitly about climate change doesn’t mean it’s not a climate policy document, however. When I asked Sean Casten, a Democratic representative from Illinois who also worked on the project, whether he considered the policies to be about addressing climate change, he responded that there was no way to talk about energy or home insurance and not talk about climate. “You also don’t necessarily have to use the word climate to talk about all of those things, right?” he added.