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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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A group of energy researchers have a three-part prescription for Washington, D.C.’s exploding energy costs.
Washington, D.C. has earned an unwelcome distinction: the largest one-year electricity price increase of any state (or equivalent geographic distinction) in the U.S. Prices there are up 87% over the past five years and 26% in the past year alone, according to new data from MIT and Heatmap News’ Electricity Price Hub. The average D.C. household is now paying $55 more for power each month than it did five years ago.
In the face of this crisis, local officials have done little but blame regional markets, emphasizing the parts of recent rate increases they don’t fully control — generation charges — rather than any proactive measures they could take to offer relief to D.C. households. Meanwhile Exelon, the parent company for Pepco, D.C.’s local utility, has used the crisis to lobby state policymakers across the region for something worse — a return to utility-owned generation, which could leave consumers holding the bag for projects that run over budget or that are built for demand that never materializes.
As residents of Washington, D.C. and energy researchers who helped put together the Electricity Price Hub, we are well aware that the District cannot remake the regional electricity market on its own. But it has meaningful tools to protect ratepayers now.
To be sure, the problems D.C. faces are not entirely of its own making. Rising demand and constrained supply across the Mid-Atlantic have created a wholesale market pressure cooker.
Capacity market prices in the Pepco region, which are set through a regional auction scheme designed to ensure the grid can reliably deliver power when demand peaks, increased more than fivefold in 2025. Those costs are passing through to retail bills. As capacity has come under increasing strain, generation charges in Pepco’s standard supply service have gone up 119% — 33% in the past year alone, with yet another rate increase set to kick in on June 1.
That regional dynamic is real. But it does not absolve local officials.
Roughly 30% of Pepco’s average residential bill is made up of charges that fall squarely under D.C. jurisdiction. Distribution charges, the largest of those local components, have risen 57% over five years, and account for 20% of the total rate increase. The D.C. Public Service Commission regulates utilities in the District and must approve Pepco’s rates before they take effect. The commission, in turn, answers to the D.C. Council, the District’s legislature, which confirms its commissioners and oversees its work. These bodies should be examining every dollar of Pepco’s proposed increases. Instead, a D.C. court recently struck down the commission’s most recent rate-hike approval, finding that it had failed to sufficiently scrutinize Pepco’s request.
When a regulator is doing such a poor job that judges have to step in, that is a five-alarm signal. Yet there is a workable action plan for the Council and the PSC to rein in costs and ease the burden on D.C. households.
First, scrutinize distribution charges aggressively — that is squarely within their jurisdiction. As Pennsylvania Governor Josh Shapiro argued in his public letter to utility leaders last month, the PSC should require Pepco to justify every additional dollar of revenue requested in plain language. That means using transparent, replicable data and analysis to show why it’s needed, the alternatives considered, and how the proposed spending will concretely benefit consumers. To support this, the D.C. Council should ensure that the PSC, the Office of the People’s Council, and relevant state agencies are adequately resourced and positioned to engage with and probe Pepco’s arguments in rate proceedings.
Second, force transparency into how Pepco procures power. The public has remarkably little visibility into what makes up generation charges for the utility. For example, how much of the total cost is attributable to capacity prices, energy procurement, administrative costs, and compliance with the District’s Renewable Energy Portfolio standard? And what changes could D.C. consider to the competitive procurement process or RPS eligibility requirements to mitigate costs? Officials can’t manage what they can’t measure.
Third, attack demand by making it easier for customers to generate their own supply. High and unpredictable interconnection fees, process delays, and other administrative hurdles add unnecessary costs and contribute to the above-average cost of solar in D.C.. The D.C. Council and PSC can incentivize distribution-level solar battery deployment by cutting permitting and interconnection costs and improve cost transparency and streamline interconnection reviews to speed up the process of installing solar and storage.
None of these moves alone will reverse five years of rate increases. But together they would put real downward pressure on bills and signal that the city is serious.
What officials should reject — across the region — is Exelon’s push for utility-owned generation. In practice, it could create a generation subsidiary tomorrow. The reason it wants its rate-regulated distribution utility to do so instead is that this would let it earn a guaranteed return on costs it currently just passes through, while shifting the risk of cost overruns, schedule slips, and overbuilt capacity from shareholders to ratepayers. It would also hand the utility an information advantage over independent power producers, suppressing the competition the market relies on to keep prices honest. More profit, less risk, less competition. A great deal — for the utility.
The D.C. Council recently passed emergency legislation pausing utility disconnections for residents with unpaid balances under $1,000. That is a humane stopgap as we head into summer, but it is not a strategy. Neither is anything that has been proposed during the current mayoral race, in which leading candidates have attacked each other’s records instead of offering a plan to lower bills.
D.C. residents do not need more blame-shifting. The choice in front of the council and the PSC is concrete: Scrutinize what is in their jurisdiction, force the transparency they have the authority to require, accelerate the cheapest sources of new supply, and refuse to subsidize a Pepco business model that turns ratepayers into the underwriters of utility risk. That is the test of whether they meet this moment seriously.
On Thea Energy’s $100 million Series B, plus more of the week’s big money moves.
Nuclear is once again a dominant theme this week, with fusion startup Thea Energy landing a $100 million Series B that will help it expand its magnet manufacturing capabilities. While $100 million is nothing to scoff at, it somehow sounds modest alongside some of this year’s other deals, which include a $450 million Series A for Inertia Enterprises and $240 million for Shine Technologies. This week also brought the news that small modular reactor startup Newcleo plans to go public via SPAC later this year, bringing to mind the exuberance of the 2021 SPAC boom, in a deal expected to net a cool $429 million.
Elsewhere, gridtech company Utilidata raised fresh capital after (surprise!) pivoting to the data center market, while a standalone battery storage developer and operator is betting there’s still plenty of money to be made in the increasingly crowded ERCOT market.
Thea Energy officially joined the growing ranks of fusion companies to surpass $100 million in total funding this week, raising a $100 million Series B round led by the U.S. Innovative Technology Fund to scale its magnet manufacturing operations as it targets a demonstration reactor by 2030. Thea is a part of the Department of Energy’s Milestone-Based Fusion Development Program, which seeks to accelerate efforts for commercial fusion power. In January, the DOE certified Thea’s preconceptual pilot plant design, making it the first of the program’s eight awardees — who will split $46 million in federal funding — to see its reactor architecture validated.
Unlike many top-funded fusion startups, which are building donut-shaped tokamak reactors, Thea Energy is betting on a stellarator design. Traditional stellarators resemble a helical tokamak, which require manufacturing and installing dozens of huge, twisted magnets, but Thea’s approach deviates from the norm. Instead, it relies on hundreds of small, planar magnets arranged in the more familiar donut-shaped configuration, which the company’s artificial intelligence software controls individually. That enables Thea to create the same complex magnetic field within a far simpler and more manufacturable shell.
Thea plans to use the new capital to build a second facility in New Jersey to complement its existing lab and to double its headcount as it seeks a site for its demo reactor later this year. The startup is aiming to bring its subsequent commercial pilot online by 2034, on par with the timeline laid out by fusion industry leader Commonwealth Fusion Systems. According to Gaetano Crupi, USIT founder and billionaire investor Thomas Tull “believes the stellarator is the right architecture for commercial fusion, and Thea Energy is the company that makes it commercially viable.” As Crupi put it in a press release, that’s because “Thea Energy’s breakthroughs shift complexity from precision mechanical fabrication to software-defined controls.”
Newcleo is the latest small modular reactor startup seeking a quick pathway to the public markets via a SPAC merger, announcing plans to list on the Nasdaq in the second half of the year after merging with a blank-check firm. The deal values the European fuel and reactor developer at $2.4 million, and is expected to deliver about $429 million in fresh capital. It comes just months after Newcleo raised $88 million in a growth financing round as the company expands into the U.S. market while continuing to fund projects across Europe.
Newcleo stands out in the crowded SMR field through its fuel and cooling strategy. It plans to run its 200-megawatt reactors on recycled fuel made from nuclear waste products like recovered plutonium and depleted uranium, and cool its reactors with liquid lead rather than water. Because liquid lead has such a high boiling point, lead-cooled reactors can operate at atmospheric pressure, reducing the need for the complex, high-pressure systems used in conventional nuclear plants and potentially improving safety along the way.
The company has already raised over $760 million to date, and CEO Stefano Buono told the Wall Street Journal that the pending SPAC could carry it through 2028 or 2029. Even that won’t be enough, however, for Newcleo to reach its target of opening a fuel factory by 2031 and bringing a commercial reactor online the following year. Not to mention that SPACs — a once rare go-to-market strategy — have a checkered history in the SMR industry. After NuScale went public via SPAC in 2022, its flagship project collapsed, taking its stock down with it and underscoring the risks that pre-revenue companies face when their early failures unfold in the public markets. On the other hand, shares of Sam Altman-backed startup Oklo’s have surged since it went public via SPAC in 2024, reaching a market cap over $11 billion, though it also has yet to build a reactor.
Newcleo’s capital push may also be tied to its strategic partnership with Oklo, as it has preliminary plans to invest up to $2 billion to develop advanced nuclear fuel facilities in the U.S. in partnership with the SMR pioneer. Earlier this week, the DOE selected Oklo — and by extension, Newcleo — to enter “advanced negotiations” to receive surplus weapons-grade plutonium for use in reactor fuel.
What’s that I hear? Another climate tech company has pivoted to the data center market? While Utilidata — an artificial intelligence-powered gridtech company — initially set out to give utilities granular insight into household-level electricity usage and grid data, it’s now raised a $40 million extension round to accelerate its shift into the data center market. As I wrote following last year’s initial $60 million tranche of Series C funding, Utilidata initially set out to get its hardware module inside residential smart meters — which it managed to do at pilot scale — to enable faster fault detection and eventually even automate load management at the household level.
Now, Utilidata is taking this same principle and applying it to the booming data center market, where so many climate tech companies are finding their first customers. The company developed its AI platform in collaboration with Nvidia, installing its modules on server racks to help data centers optimize power allocation across its facility. The company says it measures power consumption a million times per second, such that if usage on one rack is low, it can reroute electricity to parts of the data center that need it. Much like electric grids, data centers also overbuild their capacity to ensure they can handle sudden spikes in demand or hardware failures. Utilidata wants to tap into that headroom by managing power flow in real time.
Utilidata’s first commercial data center deployment is set to go live next month in Montreal in partnership with European AI cloud provider NexGen Cloud, with the startup targeting a 50% increase in the data center’s usable processing power. It also plans to use this latest funding to increase headcount by 25% this year as it builds out operations at its new Ann Arbor headquarters, which opened in February.
In some later-stage funding news, battery energy storage developer, owner, and operator Goshe Energy Storage just secured up to $40 million in strategic financing from S2G investments. As I wrote last week, S2G recently raised a $1 billion fund aimed at helping growth-stage companies commercialize, though this latest commitment actually comes from a different arm of the firm — its Special Opportunities team. This division focuses on non-dilutive financing, in this case providing Goshe with a HoldCo loan backed by the company’s portfolio of energy storage projects. Rather than lending to a specific project, a HoldCo loan gives Goshe flexible capital that can be used to fund its broader growth.
Founded in 2022, Goshe specializes in acquiring late-stage battery storage projects and getting them over the finish line by securing capital and managing the construction process into commercial operations. Thus far, all of its announced projects are in Texas’ ERCOT electricity market. Alongside this financing announcement, Goshe said that its first project — a 100-megawatt battery storage plant in Bexar County, Texas — is now fully operational after securing $288 million in project financing. The company also expects to bring its second project, a 180-megawatt storage facility, online in the following few months, with two additional ERCOT projects slated to begin construction later this year.
This funding is the latest sign that infrastructure investors have grown comfortable backing battery energy storage projects, with a record 24.3 gigawatts of new battery storage capacity projected to come online in the U.S. this year alone. The wholesale ERCOT market, however, is no longer the guaranteed moneymaker that it was just a few years ago. Between January 2024 and January 2026, ERCOT more than tripled its battery storage capacity, driving battery revenues down as the market has become increasingly crowded. In this landscape, there may be a growing number of stranded projects for Goshe to acquire, though it’ll also have to be increasingly selective.
The American climate movement is beginning to look a lot like AI doomers versus the techno-optimists. It’s a dynamic that is winning local bans – and very little else for now.
On one side, you’ve got the left-leaning insurgent grassroots movement against data centers. In many cases this push is in the name of climate action and environmental justice, with activists citing the risks of pollution from gas-fired power and the potential for strain on existing electricity supplies. But in many, many other cases, this movement is decidedly not about climate action; instead it’s a movement addressing everything from energy prices and power over large corporations to AI use generally.
Or, perhaps the anti-data center movement’s big tent is best summarized in this quote from comedian and activist Ilana Glazer: “The thing that is genuinely waiting for us on the other side of AI and data centers is the collective.”
On the other end of the spectrum, you have a raft of data center-curious centrists, liberals, and, for lack of a better term, capitalists. This diametrically oppositional political force wants to ensure data centers continue being built as states and the federal government figure out how to make policy surrounding them. Yes, they want regulations, but they’ll have to qualify even supporting the idea of a single full state – any state – pausing data centers.
“I tend to find myself in the middle of all of this AI and data center policy, because I don’t think a heavy-handed approach in either direction is smart or productive,” said Tre Easton, vice president of public affairs for the Searchlight Institute, a policy think tank geared toward pushing Democrats into positions more broadly popular in the general electorate. “If you’re doing moratoria in one state and Meta says, okay, fine, they’ll go to a different state where they’ll run roughshod.” He added: “This buildout is happening. Let’s just make the rules. Put out rules of what this should look like.”
I spent weeks talking to activists fighting data centers to better understand their end goals. Right now what folks want to talk about most is moratoria, until industry-specific regulation is in place governing all things energy, water, noise, and labor.
“Our motto is ban, legislate, regulate,” said Ben Dziobek, founder of Climate Revolution Action Network, which is fighting data center expansion in New Jersey. Dziobek’s organization is one of roughly five dozen in the Garden State that have called on newly-elected Democratic Gov. Mikie Sherill to institute a moratorium on data centers, including state representatives from The Nature Conservancy and ACLU.
When I asked Dziobek what he’d like to see after a moratorium, the answer was clear: he wants to see Big Tech pay for the energy transition. “It would be beneficial if we could get companies who are using more load than entire states to build out the clean energy future. Someone’s gotta pay for this. The largest companies in the world have to come in.”
Undoubtedly this movement is increasingly influential and rooted in a now bipartisan concern about data centers founded in valid concerns about data center impacts and the rise of AI. But at least right now, In New Jersey, and so many other Democrat-controlled states, this movement has won little ground outside the local level and no statewide Democratic leader (e.g. governor) has made a data center moratorium their raison d'être. Neither have I seen the push for a moratorium pick up steam in any state known as a deep blue bastion for climate policy. Its greatest achievements by the numbers are the cancellation rate of projects that have faced local pushback (37%, according to Heatmap Pro), the city-wide moratoria in large left-leaning bastions like Denver, and the sheer existence of a federal data center moratorium bill led by progressive celebrities like Sen. Bernie Sanders and Rep. Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez.
In fact, what I am seeing is Democratic statewide leaders rejecting efforts to curtail their development or regulate energy and water usage. In California last year, Gov. Gavin Newsom vetoed a bill requiring data center developers to report their water use. In New York, Gov. Kathy Hochul has so far shrugged off a push for her to back a three-year moratorium on new data centers. In Massachusetts, Gov. Maura Healey supports continuing to foster the state’s data center buildout and the state is preserving its data center sales tax exemption at a time when GOP leaders in other states want to repeal similar subsidies. Colorado legislators abandoned a push to regulate data centers earlier this month, after Washington state did the same.
Perhaps infamously in Maine, the Democrat-led state legislature nearly enacted a two-year moratorium on data center development only to be vetoed by Gov. Janet Mills. Democrats then failed to override the veto.
Some Democratic leaders are taking up the light-touch approach. On Wednesday, Pennsylvania Gov. Josh Shapiro released long-awaited principles for data center developers seeking fast-track permitting processes with state agencies. Under these policies, companies can get permitted more quickly if they abide by a number of energy, water, and labor standards.
On a granular level, even this policy quietly represented a disappointment for climate activists. One of the principles called for data centers to get at least one third of their power from “clean” sources by 2035 – which sounds nice until you realize Shapiro only two years ago was calling for utilities to get at least half of their electricity from carbon-free sources by then. Food & Water Watch, a national group calling for country-wide data center moratoria, blasted a press release going after Shapiro to the media after the principles were released: “[This] is a naive effort to placate widespread data center opposition. It won’t work.”
For climate activists, the best case scenario right now may be blue states taking up bills to regulate the sector as opposed to a blanket moratorium, where the push for a pause functions as leverage. Often these bills are focused on energy costs for consumers, not environmental protection, like in Oregon where last year legislators enacted a measure requiring data center companies to pay for their share of electricity demand. In Vermont this week, the state legislature passed a similar bipartisan data center bill focused on energy affordability, with some restrictions on fossil fuel generation. (Republican Gov. Phil Scott is expected to sign it.)
Indeed, the climate movement’s smartest play could be to push legislation requiring facilities not only pay for their power but ensure it is zero-carbon emissions. So far, Democrat-led bills that would accomplish this goal gained steam this year in other states but struggled to become law before the end of the legislative session too (Washington, for example).
In Illinois, the bill is known as the POWER Act, but despite lots of Democratic support behind it, it’s languishing in committee limbo ahead of the end of legislative session this week. One can imagine Illinois Gov. J.B. Pritzker getting a bill like the POWER Act into law and then running for president as The Guy Who Made Data Centers Cleaner. Heaven knows that’s why folks like Hannah Flath, climate communications manager for the Illinois Environmental Council, are so bullish on the bill. “I think it’ll eventually become law. Just not this session.”
I asked Flath why her organization was so focused on this bill as opposed to a data center moratorium. “We just don’t think it is politically feasible. Especially given how attractive these things are to our governor and some state lawmakers,” she said. “Currently, I view climate work as harm reduction work. This is perhaps a cynical view to have but that’s unfortunately where we’re at. How can we ensure changes happening in the world bring more benefits than they do harms?”
But Flath said that as a push for moratoria grows, it provides pressure on state policymakers to act: “What we’re offering state legislators now is a middle ground solution.”
I suppose for now, we’ll have to see if this side can come together on any solution – let alone a middle ground.