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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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On Thacker Pass, the Bonneville Power Administration, and Azerbaijan’s offshore wind
Current conditions: New York City is bracing for triple-digit heat in some parts of the five boroughs this week • The warm-up along the East Coast could worsen the drought parching the country’s southeastern shores • After Sunday reached 95 degrees Fahrenheit in the war-ravaged Gaza, temperatures in the Palestinian enclave are dropping back into the 80s and 70s all week.
Assuming world peace is something you find aspirational, here’s the good news: By all accounts, President Donald Trump’s two-day summit in Beijing with Chinese President Xi Jinping went well. Here’s the bad news: The energy crisis triggered by the Iran War is entering a grim new phase. Nearly 80 countries have now instituted emergency measures as the world braces for slow but long-predicted reverberations of the most severe oil shock in modern history. With demand for air conditioning and summer vacations poised to begin in the northern hemisphere’s summer, already-strained global supplies of crude oil, gasoline, diesel, and jet fuel will grow scarcer as the United States and Iran mutually blockade the Strait of Hormuz and halt virtually all tanker shipments from each other’s allies. “We are taking that outcome very seriously,” Paul Diggle, the chief economist at fund manager Aberdeen, told the Financial Times, noting that his team was now considering scenarios where Brent crude shoots up to $180 a barrel from $109 a barrel today. “We are living on borrowed time.”
The weekend brought a grave new energy concern over the conflict’s kinetic warfare. On Sunday, the United Arab Emirates condemned a drone strike it referred to as a “treacherous terrorist attack” that caused a fire near Abu Dhabi’s Barakah nuclear station. The UAE’s top English-language newspaper, The National, noted that the government’s official statement did not blame Iran explicitly. The attack came just a day after the International Atomic Energy Agency raised the alarm over drone strikes near nuclear plants after a swarm of more than 160 drones hovered near key stations in Ukraine last week.
We are apparently now entering the megamerger phase of the new electricity supercycle. On Friday, the Financial Times broke news that NextEra Energy is in talks with rival Dominion Energy for a tie-up that would create a more than $400 billion utility behemoth in one of the biggest deals of all time. The merger talks, which The Wall Street Journal confirmed, could be announced as early as this week. The combined company would reach from Dominion’s homebase of Virginia, where the northern half of the state is serving as what the FT called “the heartland of U.S. digital infrastructure serving the AI boom,” down to NextEra’s home-state of Florida, where the subsidiary Florida Power & Light serves roughly 6 million customers. While Dominion dominates data centers in Northern Virginia, NextEra last year partnered with Google to build more power plants and even reopen the Duane Arnold nuclear station in Iowa.

Trump digs lithium. In fact, he’s such a fan of Lithium Americas’ plan to build North America’s largest lithium mine on federal land in Nevada that he renegotiated a Biden-era deal to finance construction of the Thacker Pass project to secure a 5% equity stake in the publicly-traded developer. Yet the White House’s macroeconomic policies are pinching the nation’s lithium champion. During its first-quarter earnings call with investors last week, Lithium Americas cautioned that the Trump administration’s steel tariffs, coupled with inflation from disrupted shipments through the Strait of Hormuz, could add between $80 million and $120 million to construction costs at Thacker Pass. Most of the impact, Mining.com noted, is expected this year. Once mining begins, the project could spur new discussion of a strategic lithium reserve, the case for which Heatmap’s Matthew Zeitlin articulated here.
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The Department of Energy has selected Travis Kavulla, an energy industry veteran, as the 17th chief executive and administrator of the Bonneville Power Administration, NewsData reported. Founded under then-President Franklin D. Roosevelt in 1937, the federal agency is a holdover from the New Deal era before utilities had built out electrical networks in rural parts of the U.S. Unlike the Tennessee Valley Authority — which functions as a standalone utility that owns and sells power, though it’s wholly owned by the federal government and its board of directors is appointed by the White House — the BPA, as it’s known, is a power marketing agency that sells electricity from hydroelectric dams owned by the Army Corps of Engineers and the Department of the Interior’s Bureau of Reclamation. Kavulla currently serves as the head of policy for Base Power, the startup building a network of distributed batteries to back up the grid. He previously worked as the regulatory chief at the utility NRG Energy, and as a state utility commissioner in his home state of Montana. NewsData, a trade publication focused on Western energy markets, cautioned that the Energy Department may hold off on announcing the appointment for “the next few days or weeks” as sources warned that “it might be delayed while the department conducts a background check, or to allow the new undersecretary of energy, Kyle Haustveit, to be confirmed.”
Reached Sunday night via LinkedIn message, Kavulla politely declined to comment on whether he was appointed to lead the BPA.
Offshore wind may be spinning in reverse in the U.S. as the Trump administration attempts to, as Heatmap’s Jael Holzman put it, “murder” an industry through death by a thousand cuts. But elsewhere in the world, offshore wind is booming. Just look at Azerbaijan. Despite its vast reserves of natural gas, the nation on the Caspian Sea is looking into building its first offshore turbines. On Friday, offshoreWIND.biz reported that the Azerbaijan Green Energy Company, owned by the Baku-based industrial giant Nobel Energy, had commissioned a Spanish company to design a floating LiDAR-equipped buoy for the country’s first turbines in the Caspian. The debut project, backed by the Azeri government, would start with 200 megawatts of offshore wind and eventually triple in size.
Before the wealthy software entrepreneur Greg Gianforte ran to be governor of Montana, he donated millions of dollars to a Christian-themed museum that claims humans walked alongside dinosaurs and the Earth is just 6,000 years old. After winning the state’s top job, the Republican set about revoking virtually all policies related to climate change, including banning the projected effects of warming from state agencies’ risk forecasts. With drought withering the state, however, Gianforte has turned to perhaps the most ancient policy approach humanities leaders have called upon to fix devastating weather patterns: Pray. On Sunday, Gianforte declared an official day of prayer for rain. “Prayer is the most powerful tool we have,” he wrote in a post on X. “I ask all who are faithful to come to God with thanks and pray.”
With construction deadlines approaching, developers still aren’t sure how to comply with the new rules.
Certainty, certainty, certainty — three things that are of paramount importance for anyone making an investment decision. There’s little of it to be found in the renewable energy business these days.
The main vectors of uncertainty are obvious enough — whipsawing trade policy, protean administrative hostility toward wind, a long-awaited summit with China that appears to have done nothing to resolve the war with Iran. But there’s still one big “known unknown” — rules governing how companies are allowed to interact with “prohibited foreign entities,” which remain unwritten nearly a year after the One Big Beautiful Bill Act slapped them on just about every remaining clean energy tax credit.
The list of countries that qualify as “foreign entities of concern” is short, including Russian, Iran, North Korea, and China. Post-OBBBA, a firm may be treated as a “foreign-influenced entity” if at least 15% of its debt is issued by one of these countries — though in reality, China is the only one that matters. This rule also kicks in when there’s foreign entity authority to appoint executive officers, 25% or greater ownership by a single entity or a combined ownership of at least 40%.
Any company that wants to claim a clean energy tax credit must comply with the FEOC rules. How to calculate those percentages, however, the Trump administration has so far failed to say. This is tricky because clean energy projects seeking tax credits must be placed in service by the end of 2027 or start construction by July 4 of this year, which doesn’t leave them much time left to align themselves with the new rules.
While the Treasury Department published preliminary guidance in February, it largely covered “material assistance,” the system for determining how much of the cost of the project comes from inputs that are linked to those four nations (again, this is really about China). That still leaves the issue of foreign influence and “effective control,” i.e. who is allowed to own or invest in a project and what that means.
This has meant a lot of work for tax lawyers, Heather Cooper, a partner at McDermott Will & Schulte, told me on Friday.
“The FEOC ownership rules are an all or nothing proposition,” she said. “You have to satisfy these rules. It’s not optional. It’s not a matter of you lose some of the credits, but you keep others. There’s no remedy or anything. This is all or nothing.”
That uncertainty has had a chilling effect on the market. In February, Bloomberg reported that Morgan Stanley and JPMorgan had frozen some of their renewables financing work because of uncertainty around these rules, though Cooper told me the market has since thawed somewhat.
“More parties are getting comfortable enough that there are reasonable interpretations of these rules that they can move forward,” she said. “The reality is that, for folks in this industry — not just developers, but investors, tax insurers, and others — their business mandate is they need to be doing these projects.”
Some of the most frequent complaints from advisors and trade groups come around just how deep into a project’s investors you have to look to find undue foreign ownership or investment.
This gets complicated when it comes to the structures involved with clean energy projects that claim tax credits. They often combine developers (who have their own investors), outside investment funds, banks, and large companies that buy the tax credits on the transferability market.
These companies — especially the banks, which fund themselves with debt — “don’t know on any particular date how much of their debt is held by Chinese connected lenders, and therefore they’re not sure how the rules apply, and that’s caused a couple of banks to pull out of the tax equity market,” David Burton, a partner at Norton Rose Fulbright, told me. “It seems pretty crazy that a large international bank that has its debt trading is going to be a specified foreign entity because on some date, a Chinese party decided to take a large position in its debt.”
For those still participating in the market, the lack of guidance on debt and equity provisions has meant that lawyers are having to ascend the ladder of entities involved in a project, from private equity firms who aren’t typically used to disclosing their limited partners to developers, banks, and public companies that buy the tax credits.
“We’re having to go to private equity funds and say, hey, how many of your LPs are Chinese?” David Burton, a partner at Norton Rose Fulbright, told me. This is not information these funds are typically particularly eager to share. If a lawyer “had asked a private equity firm please tell us about your LPs, before One Big Beautiful Bill, they probably would have told us to go jump in the lake,” Burton said.
Still, the deals are still happening, but “the legal fees are more expensive. The underwriting and due diligence time is longer, there are more headaches,” he told me.
Typically these deals involve joint ventures that formed for that specific deal, which can then transfer the tax credits to another entity with more tax liability to offset. The joint venture might be majority owned by a public company, with a large minority position held by a private equity fund, Burton said.
For the public company, Burton said, his team has to ask “Are any of your shareholders large enough that they have to be disclosed to the SEC? Are any of those Chinese?” For the private equity fund, they have to ask where its investors are residents and what countries they’re citizens of. While private equity funds can be “relatively cooperative,” the process is still a “headache.”
“It took time to figure out how to write these certifications and get me comfortable with the certification, my client comfortable with it, the private equity firm comfortable with it, the tax credit buyer comfortable with it,” he told me, referring to the written legal explanation for how companies involved are complying with what their lawyers think the tax rules are.
Players such as the American Council on Renewable Energy hope that guidance will cut down on this certification time by limiting the universe of entities that will have to scrub their rolls of Chinese investors or corporate officers.
“It’d be nice if we knew you only have to apply the test at the entity that’s considered the tax owner of the project,” i.e. just the joint venture that’s formed for a specific project, Cooper told me.
“There’s a pretty reasonable and plain reading of the statute that limits the term ’taxpayer’ to the entity that owns the project when it’s placed in service,” Cooper said.
Many in the industry expect more guidance on the rules by the end of year, though as Burton noted, “this Treasury is hard to predict.”
In the meantime, expect even more work for tax lawyers.
“We’re used to December being super busy,” Burton said. “But it now feels like every month since the One Big Beautiful Bill passed is like December, so we’ve had, like, you know, eight Decembers in a row.”
Deep cuts to the department have left each staffer with a huge amount of money to manage.
The Department of Energy has an enviable problem: It has more money than it can spend.
DOE disbursed just 2% of its total budgetary resources in fiscal year 2025, according to a report released earlier this year from the EFI Foundation, a nonprofit that tracks innovations in energy. That figure is far lower than the 38% of funds it distributed the year prior.
While some of that is due to political whiplash in Washington, there is another, far more mundane cause: There simply aren’t that many people left to oversee the money. Thanks to the Department of Government Efficiency’s efforts, one in five DOE staff members left the agency. On top of that, Energy Secretary Chris Wright shuffled around and combined offices in a Kafkaesque restructuring. Short on workers and clear direction, the department appears unable to churn through its sizable budget.

Though Congress provides budgetary authority, agencies are left to allot spending for the programs under their ambit, and then obligate payments through contracts, grants, and loans. While departments are expected to use the money they’re allocated, federal staff have to work through the gritty details of each individual transaction.
As a result of its reduced headcount, DOE’s employees are each responsible for far more budgetary resources than ever before.
“DOE is facing its largest imbalance in its history,” Alex Kizer, executive vice president of EFI Foundation, told me. In fiscal year 2017, DOE budgeted around $4.7 million per full-time employee. In the fiscal year 2026 budget request, that figure reached $35.7 million per worker — about eight times more.
Part of that increase is the result of the unprecedented injection of funding into DOE from the 2021 Infrastructure Investment and Jobs Act and the 2022 Inflation Reduction Act. The pair of laws, which gave DOE access to $97 billion, comprised the United States’ largest investment to combat climate change in the nation’s history.
The epoch of federally backed renewable energy investment proved to be short-lived, however. Once President Trump retook office last year, his administration froze funds and initiated a purge of federal workers that resulted in 3,000 staffers (about one in five) leaving DOE through the Deferred Resignation Program. The administration canceled hundreds of projects, evaporating $23 billion in federal support.
While the One Big Beautiful Bill Act passed last summer depleted some of the IRA’s coffers and sunsetted many tax credits years early, it only rescinded about $1.8 billion from DOE, according to the EFI Foundation. Much of the IRA’s spending had already gone out the door or was left intact.
This leaves DOE in a strange position: Its budget is historically high, but its staffing levels have suffered an unprecedented drop.

Even before the short-lived Elon Musk-run agency took a chainsaw to the federal workforce, DOE struggled to hire enough people to keep up with the pace of funding demanded by the IRA’s funding deadlines. The Loan Programs Office, for example, was criticized for moving too slowly in shelling out its hundreds of billions in loan authority. According to a report from three ex-DOE staffers that Heatmap’s Emily Pontecorvo covered, the IRA’s implementation suffered from a lack of “highly skilled, highly talented staff” to carry out its many programs.
“The last year’s uncertainty and the staff cuts, the project cancellations, those increase an already tightening bottleneck of difficulty with implementation at the department,” Sarah Frances Smith, EFI Foundation’s deputy director, told me.
One former longtime Department of Energy staffer who asked not to be named because they may want to return one day told me that as soon as Trump’s second term started, funding disbursement slowed to a halt. Employees had to get permission from leadership just to pay invoices for projects that had already been granted funding, the ex-DOE worker said.
While the Trump administration quickly moved to hamstring renewable energy resources, staff were kept busy complying with executive orders such as removing any mention of diversity equity and inclusion from government websites and responding to automated “What did you do last week?” emails.
On top of government funding drying up, Kizer told me that the confusion surrounding DOE has had a “cooling effect on the private sector’s appetite to do business with DOE,” though the size of that effect is “hard to quantify.”
Under President Biden, DOE put a lot of effort into building trust with companies doing work critical to its renewable energy priorities. Now, states and companies alike are suing DOE to restore revoked funds. In a recent report, the Government Accountability Office warned, “Private companies, which are often funding more than 50 percent of these projects, may reconsider future partnerships with the federal government.”
Clean energy firms aren’t the only ones upset by DOE’s about-face. Even the Republican-controlled Congress balked at President Trump’s proposed deep cuts to DOE’s budget in its latest round of budget negotiations. Appropriations for fiscal year 2026 will be just slightly lower than the year before — though without additional headcount to manage it, the same difficulties getting money out the door will remain.
The widespread staff exit also appears to have slowed work supporting the administration’s new priorities, namely coal and critical minerals. LPO, which was rebranded the “Office of Energy Dominance Financing,” has announced only a few new loans since President Biden left office. Southern Company, which received the Office’s largest-ever loan, was previously backed by a loan to its subsidiary Georgia Power under the first Trump administration.
Despite Trump’s frequent invocation of the importance of coal, DOE hasn’t accomplished much for the technology besides some funding to keep open a handful of struggling coal plants and a loan to restart a coal gasification plant for fertilizer production that was already in LPO’s pipeline under Biden.
Even if DOE wanted to become an oil and gas-enabling juggernaut, it may not have the labor force it needs to carry out a carbon-heavy energy mandate.
“When you cut as many people as they did, you have to figure out who’s going to do the stuff that those people were doing,” said the ex-DOE staffer. “And now they’re going to move and going, Oh crap, we fired that guy.”