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Same goes for the Midwest, according to Stanford air quality researcher Marshall Burke.

It’s not just you: Summers are getting smokier.
For the third year in a row, cities like Detroit, Minneapolis, Boston, and New York are experiencing dangerously polluted air for days at a time as smoke drifts into the U.S. from wildfires in Canada.
Smoke has traveled to these places in the past, Stanford University researcher Marshall Burke told me. But the data is clear that the haze is becoming more severe.
“The worst days are worse,” said Burke, “and you can see that in the averages, the last couple of years are much, much higher across the Midwest and the East Coast than we’ve observed in the past many decades.”
Burke is one of the leading scholars studying wildfire smoke, investigating everything from its effect on air quality, public health, and behavior, to preventative and adaptive public policy responses. In one of his most recent papers, which has not yet been peer reviewed, he and his co-authors analyzed the influence of smoke on air quality over the past two decades, using satellite imagery of smoke plumes to disentangle how much of the fine particulate matter, or PM2.5, measured by air monitoring stations came from fires versus more typical sources like cars and furnaces.
The study shows a sharp increase in the amount of smoke in the air around the U.S. in just the past few years. From 2020 to 2023, the average American breathed in concentrations of smoke-related PM2.5 that were between 2.6 and 6.7 times higher than the 2006 to 2019 average.
The paper also contains a stunning set of charts that show that wildfires are eroding decades of air quality gains — and the efficacy of air quality regulation in general — and that without these smoke events, PM2.5 levels would have been significantly lower.

I caught up with Burke to better understand what we know about this seemingly sudden escalation of smoke events, and what we can do to better protect ourselves from them moving forward. Our conversation has been lightly edited for clarity.
Given the smoke events we’ve seen in the last three years, can we say anything about the next three years?
I don’t think you want to make bets on any specific years. The long run trend, unfortunately, suggests that the last few years are going to be more representative than the sorts of years we got 10 to 15 to 20 years ago. And that is due to the underlying physical climate that’s warming and drying out fuels and making fire spread faster and fires much larger. Larger fires generate more smoke.
Has it all been driven by Canadian wildfires?
No. The East Coast and the Midwest will get exposure from fires as far as California, often in the Northern Rockies. But the recent very bad exposure — 2023 was by far the worst year in the Midwest and East Coast — that was nearly all from Canadian fires. This year, again, it’s nearly all from Canadian fires.
Why is that?
The reason we’ve seen a lot more Canadian fires is the same reason we’ve seen a lot more fires in the U.S. West — increasing fuel aridity. As temperatures warm, forests dry out. And so when you get lightning strikes, which tend to start most of the large fires in Canada, you get faster fire spread and much larger fires.
Interestingly, we’ve seen in Canada fewer total fires over time. Often I see people posting this on Twitter — Climate change is not a problem, we’re getting fewer fires in Canada — and that’s true. I think they’ve reduced other sources of ignitions. But you still get lightning ignitions.
Burned area has gone the other way — you’ve seen an increase in burned area. So, fewer fires, but much larger fires, and these larger fires are the ones that put out a lot more smoke, and the smoke gets pushed into population centers in Canada and into the U.S.
There were really large wildfires in California before 2023. Why weren’t places on the East Coast having smoky days as a result of those?
It’s the way the wind blows and how far it has to go. In the large 2020 and 2021 fire seasons we had in the U.S. West, some of that smoke certainly was making it to the East Coast, but given the prevailing wind patterns and the distance the smoke had to travel, the influence of those fires on air quality was not as big as the recent Canadian fires.
Are there other events that cause comparable air quality degradation to wildfires?
You can get really specific things — if a train crashes and lights on fire and a given town is exposed to really high levels of whatever pollutant for a few days. Sometimes you can get dust events that have broad scale exposure. But basically never do you reach the AQI levels that we see in wildfires. Wildfires are pretty unique in their ability to expose very large numbers of people to a very high level of pollutants for days, or unfortunately now, weeks, at a time. Nothing else compares in the U.S.
If you go to other parts of the world where you have large anthropogenic sources — Indian cities, Chinese cities — it can be quite different. There’s some exceptions. Salt Lake City and places where you get inversions and you get pollution trapped for many days, you can get pretty high levels of exposure, but typically nowhere close to what you get during these acute wildfire events.
When the AQI goes back down to levels that are more common in a city after a smoke event and people feel safer going outside, are you able to measure how much of the PM2.5 remaining in the air is from a wildfire? Does it matter?
We try to measure that directly — on any given day, how much of the PM that you’re experiencing is from wildfires versus from other sources. What you see is these events can turn on really quickly, and they can also turn off really quickly, either because the wind direction changes or because it rains — if it rains, you rain out a lot of these pollutants, and then you’re breathing mostly clean air right away.
We also try to measure, how does human health respond? One thing that science doesn’t give us a crisp answer to yet is, is one day of 100 micrograms better or worse than 10 days of 10 micrograms of exposure? We don’t actually really know. What we do see is people respond very differently to those two scenarios in ways that likely affect health outcomes. On really bad days, people tend to stay inside. In California, total emergency department visits go down instead of up, and that’s because people are not getting in their cars, they’re not getting in car accidents, they’re not spraining their ankle playing football or whatever because they’re staying at home.
On lower smoke days, we see emergency department visits go up. That’s probably because people are not changing their behavior. But, maybe surprisingly, we still don’t have a crisp answer if you’re thinking about asthma or mortality or other cardiovascular outcomes.
What are some of the other questions researchers are trying to answer as this becomes more of a national issue?
All sorts of things. The immediate health impacts that you think about — respiratory outcomes have been the one that’s been measured best in a lot of different settings. Cardiovascular outcomes, I would say the evidence is surprisingly more mixed on that. There’s a long-standing literature that shows cardiovascular mortality impacts of exposure to PM, but for wildfire PM, specifically, that evidence is less clear. Sorting that out and trying to understand whether there are differences is important.
Cognitive outcomes — does it increase your risk of dementia? Does student learning go down? Does it reduce cognitive performance at work? I think there’s emerging evidence that smoke is pretty important. Exposure to air pollution, more broadly, is important, but wildfire smoke, specifically, can impact these outcomes.
Birth outcomes is another one we and others have looked at. You see a pretty clear signature of wildfire smoke in birth outcomes — increases to the risk of pre-term birth, for instance. We used to just think about sensitive populations as elderly populations or people with pre-existing conditions. And basically what the research is showing is, no, actually, everyone is sensitive in some way. The list of people who are likely affected probably includes most, if not all of us.
What are the potential policy responses to this in places that haven’t had to deal with it in the past?
I think there’s three policy buckets. This is more true in the U.S. than Canada, but our fire problem is a combination of a warming climate and a century of fire suppression that has left abundant fuel in our landscapes, so number one is dealing with climate change as best we can, and two is doing something about the accumulated fuel loads. There’s a lot we can do there — prescribed burning is one approach that we and others are studying a lot; mechanical thinning, where you go out and actually remove the fuel. Understanding when and where to do that and what the benefits are is an ongoing scientific challenge, but I think most of the evidence would suggest we’re going to need a lot more of that than we’ve done, historically.
But even if we do a lot of that, we’re going to get more of these smoke events, unfortunately. And so we need to protect ourselves when these events happen. Indoor air filtration works really well, so we need to make sure people have access to filters of various types. The evidence would suggest that we see health impacts even at pretty low levels of exposure, and so if you have a portable filter — I drive my family crazy, I’m turning ours on all the time. You should basically just be running them all the time.
What about in terms of messaging? I’m thinking about city officials or state officials, when a smoke event is coming — and maybe this is still an active area of research — but what’s the current thinking on what message to send to people?
Yeah, I think it is an ongoing area, in terms of exactly how to do this and who to target with the information. The way we typically do this is to set these thresholds, right? So, above some threshold, you get a notice, and below, you don’t. That is understandable.
But what we see in the data is that there’s not some level below which you’re fine and above which you’re screwed. What we see is the more smoke you’re exposed to, the worse off you are, and so our goal should just be to reduce our exposure as best we can. How to message that effectively is not something we have a crisp social scientific answer to yet.
A lot of the advice has historically been that you should stay at home with your windows and doors closed. In California homes that is not very protective because California homes tend to be not very tight. In my view, just telling people to close their windows and doors is not sufficient for protecting health. They need some sort of active filtration — portable air filter, central air — to do that.
The other thing that’s happened in California, and I’ve seen this with my own kids — should we cancel school on really bad days? The assumption is that kids are better protected at home than they would be in the school environment, and that’s just not obviously true. It could be the case that for many kids, schools are better. We don’t know, because we do not have comprehensive measurement of indoor air quality, and this is a huge failing that we need to fix. Just as we measure it pretty comprehensively outside, we’ve got to do the same thing inside, and we just haven’t done this.
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Whether any of them will hold up in court is now the big question.
Environmental lawyers are in for years of déjà vu as the Trump administration relitigates questions that many believed were settled by the Supreme Court nearly 20 years ago.
On Thursday, Trump rescinded the “endangerment finding,” the Environmental Protection Agency’s 2009 determination that greenhouse gas emissions from vehicles threaten Americans’ public health and welfare and should be regulated. In the short term, the move repeals existing vehicle emissions standards and prevents future administrations from replacing them. In the longer term, what matters is whether any of the administration’s justifications hold up in court.
In its final rule, the EPA abandoned its attempt to back the move using a bespoke climate science report published by the Department of Energy last year. The report was created by a working group assembled in secret by the department and made up of five scientists who have a track record of pushing back on mainstream climate science. Not only was the report widely refuted by scientists, but the assembly of the working group itself broke federal law, a judge ruled in late January.
“The science is clear that climate change is creating a risk for the public and public health, and so I think it’s significant that they realized that it creates a legal risk if they were to try to assert otherwise,” Carrie Jenks, the executive director of Harvard’s Environmental and Energy Law Program, told me.
Instead, the EPA came up with three arguments to justify its decision, each of which will no doubt have to be defended in court. The agency claims that each of them can stand alone, but that they also reinforce each other. Whether that proves to be true, of course, has yet to be determined.
Here’s what they are:
Congress never specifically told the EPA to regulate greenhouse gas emissions. If it did, maybe we would have accomplished more on climate change by now.
What happened instead was that in 1999, a coalition of environmental and solar energy groups asked the EPA to regulate emissions from cars, arguing that greenhouse gases should be considered pollutants under the federal Clean Air Act. In 2007, in a case called Massachusetts v. EPA, the Supreme Court agreed with the second part. That led the EPA to consider whether these gases posed enough of a danger to public health to warrant regulation. In 2009, it concluded they did — that’s what’s known as the endangerment finding. After reaching that finding, the EPA went ahead and developed standards to limit emissions from vehicles. It later followed that up with rules for power plants and oil and gas operations.
Now Trump’s EPA is arguing that this three-step progression — categorizing greenhouse gases as pollutants under the Clean Air Act, making a scientific finding that they endanger public health, and setting regulations — was all wrong. Instead, the agency now believes, it’s necessary to consider all three at once.
Using the EPA’s logic, the argument comes out something like this: If we consider that U.S. cars are a small sliver of global emissions, and that limiting those emissions will not materially change the trajectory of global warming or the impacts of climate change on Americans, then we must conclude that Congress did not intend for greenhouse gases to be regulated when it enacted the Clean Air Act.
“They are trying to merge it all together and say, because we can’t do that last thing in a way that we think is reasonable, we can’t do the first thing,” Jenks said.
The agency is not explicitly asking for Massachusetts v. EPA to be overturned, Jenks said. But if its current argument wins in court, that would be the effective outcome, preventing future administrations from issuing greenhouse gas standards unless Congress passed a law explicitly telling it to do so. While it's rare for the Supreme Court to reverse course, none of the five justices who were in the majority on that case remain, and the makeup of the court is now far more conservative than in 2007.
The EPA also asserted that the “major questions doctrine,” a legal principle that says federal agencies cannot set policies of major economic and political significance without explicit direction from Congress, means the EPA cannot “decide the Nation’s policy response to global climate change concerns.”
The Supreme Court has used the major questions doctrine to overturn EPA’s regulations in the past, most notably in West Virginia v. EPA, which ruled that President Obama’s Clean Power Plan failed this constitutional test. But that case was not about EPA’s authority to regulate greenhouse gases, the court solely struck down the particular approach the EPA took to those regulations. Nevertheless, the EPA now argues that any climate regulation at all would be a violation.
The EPA’s final argument is about the “futility” of vehicle emissions standards. It echoes a portion of the first justification, arguing that the point alone is enough of a reason to revoke the endangerment finding absent any other reason.
The endangerment finding had “severed the consideration of endangerment from the consideration of contribution” of emissions, the agency wrote. The Clean Air Act “instructs the EPA to regulate in furtherance of public health and welfare, not to reduce emissions regardless [of] whether such reductions have any material health and welfare impact.”
Funnily enough, to reach this conclusion, the agency had to use climate models developed by past administrations, including the EPA’s Optimization Model for reducing Emissions of GHGs from Automobiles, as well as some developed by outside scientists, such as the Finite amplitude Impulse Response climate emulator model — though it did so begrudgingly.
The agency “recognizes that there is still significant dispute regarding climate science and modeling,” it wrote. “However, the EPA is utilizing the climate modeling provided within this section to help illustrate” that zero-ing out emissions from vehicles “would not materially address the health and welfare dangers attributed to global climate change concerns in the Endangerment Finding.”
I have yet to hear back from outside experts about the EPA’s modeling here, so I can’t say what assumptions the agency made to reach this conclusion or estimate how well it will hold up to scrutiny. We’ll be talking to more legal scholars and scientists in the coming days as they digest the rule and dig into which of these arguments — if any — has a chance to prevail.
The state is poised to join a chorus of states with BYO energy policies.
With the backlash to data center development growing around the country, some states are launching a preemptive strike to shield residents from higher energy costs and environmental impacts.
A bill wending through the Washington State legislature would require data centers to pick up the tab for all of the costs associated with connecting them to the grid. It echoes laws passed in Oregon and Minnesota last year, and others currently under consideration in Florida, Georgia, Illinois, and Delaware.
Several of these bills, including Washington’s, also seek to protect state climate goals by ensuring that new or expanded data centers are powered by newly built, zero-emissions power plants. It’s a strategy that energy wonks have started referring to as BYONCE — bring your own new clean energy. Almost all of the bills also demand more transparency from data center companies about their energy and water use.
This list of state bills is by no means exhaustive. Governors in New York and Pennsylvania have declared their intent to enact similar policies this year. At least six states, including New York and Georgia, are also considering total moratoria on new data centers while regulators study the potential impacts of a computing boom.
“Potential” is a key word here. One of the main risks lawmakers are trying to circumvent is that utilities might pour money into new infrastructure to power data centers that are never built, built somewhere else, or don’t need as much energy as they initially thought.
“There’s a risk that there’s a lot of speculation driving the AI data center boom,” Emily Moore, the senior director of the climate and energy program at the nonprofit Sightline Institute, told me. “If the load growth projections — which really are projections at this point — don’t materialize, ratepayers could be stuck holding the bag for grid investments that utilities have made to serve data centers.”
Washington State, despite being in the top 10 states for data center concentration, has not exactly been a hotbed of opposition to the industry. According to Heatmap Pro data, there are no moratoria or restrictive ordinances on data centers in the state. Rural communities in Eastern Washington have also benefited enormously from hosting data centers from the earlier tech boom, using the tax revenue to fund schools, hospitals, municipal buildings, and recreation centers.
Still, concern has started to bubble up. A ProPublica report in 2024 suggested that data centers were slowing the state’s clean energy progress. It also described a contentious 2023 utility commission meeting in Grant County, which has the highest concentration of data centers in the state, where farmers and tech workers fought over rising energy costs.
But as with elsewhere in the country, it’s the eye-popping growth forecasts that are scaring people the most. Last year, the Northwest Power and Conservation Council, a group that oversees electricity planning in the region, estimated that data centers and chip fabricators could add somewhere between 1,400 megawatts and 4,500 megawatts of demand by 2030. That’s similar to saying that between one and four cities the size of Seattle will hook up to the region’s grid in the next four years.
In the face of such intimidating demand growth, Washington Governor Bob Ferguson convened a Data Center Working Group last year — made up of state officials as well as advisors from electric utilities, environmental groups, labor, and industry — to help the state formulate a game plan. After meeting for six months, the group published a report in December finding that among other things, the data center boom will challenge the state’s efforts to decarbonize its energy systems.
A supplemental opinion provided by the Washington Department of Ecology also noted that multiple data center developers had submitted proposals to use fossil fuels as their main source of power. While the state’s clean energy law requires all electricity to be carbon neutral by 2030, “very few data center developers are proposing to use clean energy to meet their energy needs over the next five years,” the department said.
The report’s top three recommendations — to maintain the integrity of Washington’s climate laws, strengthen ratepayer protections, and incentivize load flexibility and best practices for energy efficiency — are all incorporated into the bill now under discussion in the legislature. The full list was not approved by unanimous vote, however, and many of the dissenting voices are now opposing the data center bill in the legislature or asking for significant revisions.
Dan Diorio, the vice president of state policy for the Data Center Coalition, an industry trade group, warned lawmakers during a hearing on the bill that it would “significantly impact the competitiveness and viability of the Washington market,” putting jobs and tax revenue at risk. He argued that the bill inappropriately singles out data centers, when arguably any new facility with significant energy demand poses the same risks and infrastructure challenges. The onshoring of manufacturing facilities, hydrogen production, and the electrification of vehicles, buildings, and industry will have similar impacts. “It does not create a long-term durable policy to protect ratepayers from current and future sources of load growth,” he said.
Another point of contention is whether a top-down mandate from the state is necessary when utility regulators already have the authority to address the risks of growing energy demand through the ratemaking process.
Indeed, regulators all over the country are already working on it. The Smart Electric Power Alliance, a clean energy research and education nonprofit, has been tracking the special rate structures and rules that U.S. utilities have established for data centers, cryptocurrency mining facilities, and other customers with high-density energy needs, many of which are designed to protect other ratepayers from cost shifts. Its database, which was last updated in November, says that 36 such agreements have been approved by state utility regulators, mostly in the past three years, and that another 29 are proposed or pending.
Diario of the Data Center Coalition cited this trend as evidence that the Washington bill was unnecessary. “The data center industry has been an active party in many of those proceedings,” he told me in an email, and “remains committed to paying its full cost of service for the energy it uses.” (The Data Center Coalition opposed a recent utility decision in Ohio that will require data centers to pay for a minimum of 85% of their monthly energy forecast, even if they end up using less.)
One of the data center industry’s favorite counterarguments against the fear of rising electricity is that new large loads actually exert downward pressure on rates by spreading out fixed costs. Jeff Dennis, who is the executive director of the Electricity Customer Alliance and has worked for both the Department of Energy and the Federal Energy Regulatory Commission, told me this is something he worries about — that these potential benefits could be forfeited if data centers are isolated into their own ratemaking class. But, he said, we’re only in “version 1.5 or 2.0” when it comes to special rate structures for big energy users, known as large load tariffs.
“I think they’re going to continue to evolve as everybody learns more about how to integrate large loads, and as the large load customers themselves evolve in their operations,” he said.
The Washington bill passed the Appropriations Committee on Monday and now heads to the Rules Committee for review. A companion bill is moving through the state senate.
Plus more of the week’s top fights in renewable energy.
1. Kent County, Michigan — Yet another Michigan municipality has banned data centers — for the second time in just a few months.
2. Pima County, Arizona — Opposition groups submitted twice the required number of signatures in a petition to put a rezoning proposal for a $3.6 billion data center project on the ballot in November.
3. Columbus, Ohio — A bill proposed in the Ohio Senate could severely restrict renewables throughout the state.
4. Converse and Niobrara Counties, Wyoming — The Wyoming State Board of Land Commissioners last week rescinded the leases for two wind projects in Wyoming after a district court judge ruled against their approval in December.