You’re out of free articles.
Log in
To continue reading, log in to your account.
Create a Free Account
To unlock more free articles, please create a free account.
Sign In or Create an Account.
By continuing, you agree to the Terms of Service and acknowledge our Privacy Policy
Welcome to Heatmap
Thank you for registering with Heatmap. Climate change is one of the greatest challenges of our lives, a force reshaping our economy, our politics, and our culture. We hope to be your trusted, friendly, and insightful guide to that transformation. Please enjoy your free articles. You can check your profile here .
subscribe to get Unlimited access
Offer for a Heatmap News Unlimited Access subscription; please note that your subscription will renew automatically unless you cancel prior to renewal. Cancellation takes effect at the end of your current billing period. We will let you know in advance of any price changes. Taxes may apply. Offer terms are subject to change.
Subscribe to get unlimited Access
Hey, you are out of free articles but you are only a few clicks away from full access. Subscribe below and take advantage of our introductory offer.
subscribe to get Unlimited access
Offer for a Heatmap News Unlimited Access subscription; please note that your subscription will renew automatically unless you cancel prior to renewal. Cancellation takes effect at the end of your current billing period. We will let you know in advance of any price changes. Taxes may apply. Offer terms are subject to change.
Create Your Account
Please Enter Your Password
Forgot your password?
Please enter the email address you use for your account so we can send you a link to reset your password:
Two international law experts on whether the president can really just yank the U.S. from the United Nations’ overarching climate treaty.

When the Trump administration moved on Wednesday to withdraw the U.S. from the United Nations Framework Convention on Climate Change, we were left to wonder — not for the first time — can he really do that?
The UNFCCC is the umbrella organization governing UN-organized climate diplomacy, including the annual climate summit known as the Conference of the Parties and the 2015 Paris Agreement. The U.S. has been in and out and back into the Paris Agreement over the years, and was most recently taken out again by a January 2025 executive order from President Trump. The U.S. has never before attempted to exit the UNFCCC — which, unlike the Paris Agreement, it joined with the advice and consent of the Senate.
Whether or not a president can unilaterally remove the U.S. from a Senate-approved treaty is somewhat uncharted legal territory. As University of Pennsylvania constitutional law professor Jean Galbraith told me, “This is an issue on which the text of the constitution is silent — it tells you how to make a treaty, but it doesn’t tell you anything about how to unmake a treaty.” Even if a president can simply withdraw from a treaty, there’s still the question of what happens next. Could a future president simply rejoin the UNFCCC? Or would they again need to seek the advice and consent of the Senate, which would require getting 67 senators to agree that international climate diplomacy is a worthy enterprise? And what does all of this mean for the future of the Paris Agreement? Is the U.S. locked out for good?
In an attempt to wrap my head around these questions, I spoke to both Galbraith and Sue Biniaz, a lecturer at Yale School of the Environment and a former lead climate lawyer at the State Department who worked on both the Paris Agreement and the UNFCCC. Biniaz and Galbraith were part of a 2018 symposium on the question of treaty withdrawal that was prompted, in part, by Trump’s first attempt to remove the U.S. from the Paris Agreement, during his first term in the White House. Those conversations led Galbraith to consider the question of rejoining treaties in a 2020 Virginia Law Review article. Suffice it for now to say that both questions are complicated, but we dig into the answers to both and more in our conversation below.
Interviews have been edited for length and clarity.
At the most basic level, what are the constitutional questions at play in an executive withdrawal from the UNFCCC?
Galbraith: Typically, the U.S. president needs to think about both international law and domestic law. And as a matter of international law, there is a withdrawal provision in the UNFCCC that says you can withdraw after you’ve been in it for a few years, after one year of notice. Assuming they give their notice of withdrawal and wait a year, this is an issue on which the text of the constitution is silent — it tells you how to make a treaty, but it doesn’t tell you anything about how to unmake a treaty.
And we have no definitive answer from the courts. The closest they got to deciding that was in a case called Goldwater v. Carter, which was when President Carter terminated the mutual defense treaty with Taiwan. That was litigated, and the Supreme Court ducked — four justices said this is a political question that we’re not going to resolve, and one justice said this case is not ripe for resolution because I don’t know whether or not Congress likes the withdrawal. There was no majority opinion, and there was no ruling on the merit for the constitutional question.
Presidents have exercised the authority to withdraw the United States from various international agreements. So in practice, it happens. The constitutionality has not been finally settled.
Both Trump administrations have removed the U.S. from the Paris Agreement, but the Paris Agreement was not a Senate-ratified treaty, whereas the UNFCCC is. How does that change things?
Galbraith: The text of the constitution only clearly spells out one way to make an international treaty, in the treaty clause [of Article II]. When you make an Article II treaty, it’s signed by the president and secretary of state. It goes over to the Senate; the Senate provides advice and consent — the U.S. is still not in it. At that point, the president has to take a final act of ratifying the treaty, which means depositing the instrument of ratification with the international depository, and that’s the moment you’re in. And it’s perfectly permissible for a president after the Senate has given advice and consent not to ratify a treaty, or to leave those resolutions of advice and consent for years and then go ahead and ratify.
In practice, you have all these kinds of other ways of making [a treaty]. You have what happened with the Paris Agreement, where the president does it largely on their own authority, but maybe pointing to pre-existing facts of, say, the UNFCCC’s existence. You have some international agreements that have been negotiated, then taken to Congress rather than to the Senate. Sometimes you have Congress pass a law that says, Please make this kind of agreement. So you have a lot of different pathways to making them. And I think there is a story in which the pathway to making them should be significant in thinking about, what is the legitimate, constitutional way for exiting them?
To me, it’s pretty obvious that if you don’t get specific approval for an agreement in the first place, then you should be able to unilaterally withdraw, assuming you’re doing so consistent with international law. I think the concerns around the constitutionality of withdrawal are more significant for the UNFCCC than they are for the Paris Agreements. But there nonetheless is this fairly strong body of practice in which presidents have viewed themselves as authorized to withdraw without needing to go to Congress or the Senate.
Biniaz: The Senate doesn’t ratify. It sounds like a detail, but the Senate basically authorizes the president to ratify — they give their advice and consent. And that’s important because it’s not the Senate that decides whether we join an agreement. They authorize the president, the president does not have to join. And that becomes relevant when we talk about withdrawing and rejoining.
We did not address, when we sent up the framework convention, whether it was legally necessary to send it to the Senate. But we sent it in any event, and it was approved basically unanimously by the full Senate back in 1992. With respect to the Paris Agreement, there are a lot of different considerations when you’re trying to figure out whether something needs to go to the Senate or not, but the fact that we already had a Senate-approved convention changed the legal calculus as to whether this Paris Agreement needed to go to the Senate. And then when the Paris Agreement ended up essentially elaborating the convention and the targets were not legally binding, we decided we could do it as an executive agreement. There was some quibbling in some quarters — more from a political point of view than a legal point of view — but I didn’t hear any objection from a legal point of view.
Now, in terms of withdrawing from an agreement, whether or not an agreement has been approved by the Senate, my view would be: The president can withdraw unilaterally. That is the mainstream view. It’s certainly the view that the president can withdraw unilaterally from an agreement that didn’t even go to Congress, like the Paris Agreement. And in part, that’s for the reasons that I mentioned. The Senate is not deciding to join the agreement — they’re authorizing, but it’s up to the president whether to actually join, and the president does that unilaterally. And then the mirror image of that would be he or she can withdraw unilaterally.
There’s a related legal question that has not been litigated, which is if Congress passes a law that says, Thou shalt not withdraw from a particular agreement, would that law be constitutional? Some would say no, because the president can withdraw, and so the Congress can’t fetter that right. So that’s like uncharted waters, but that’s not a live issue in this case.
Trump took the U.S. out of the Paris Agreement. Biden put the us back into the Paris Agreement. Trump then took us out of the Paris Agreement again, and is now withdrawing the U.S. from the umbrella organization of the Paris Agreement. I assume that would complicate the efforts of a future president to rejoin the Paris Agreement. Would it be possible for them to rejoin the framework convention? What would have to happen?
Galbraith: So first, the framework convention is the gateway to the Paris Agreement. There’s a provision in the Paris Agreement that says, in order to be in the Paris Agreement, you’ve got to be in the framework convention. And so as a matter of international law, in order to rejoin the Paris Agreement — at least unless it were dramatically amended, which is its own unlikely thing — you would need to be a member of the UNFCCC, which does mean that the question of how you rejoin the UNFCCC becomes significant. We have very little practice on any kind of rejoining. I myself think that the president could simply rejoin the UNFCCC by pointing back to the original Senate resolution of advice and consent to it. You could go back to the Senate. You could ask Congress for a resolution.
My own view is that if the president withdraws the U.S., well, they still have on the books this resolution in which the Senate has consented to ratification — they want to go back in, they go back in. I think this is pretty logically clear, but also an important constraint on presidential power. Because it’s a much more concerning increase in presidential power if you have to do all the work of getting two-thirds of the Senate, then any president can, just at the snap of their fingers, take you out, and you have to go all the way back to the beginning.
Biniaz: There are many options. One is a straightforward option: You go back to the Senate, get 67 votes. Another would be you get both houses of Congress to authorize it [on a majority vote basis]. Another would be — and there may be more — but another would be the idea that the original Senate resolution which we used in 1992 to join still exists, and nothing has extinguished it. And there the analogy would be to a regular law.
There’s several laws in the United States that authorized the president to join some kind of international body or institution. There’s a law that authorizes the president to join the International Labor Organization. There’s a law that authorized the president to join UNESCO. In both of those cases, the U.S. has been in and out and back in — and I think in one case, at least, back out. No one has batted an eye because, well, it’s a law. So the question there would be, is there any reason why a Senate resolution would be any different? Professor Galbraith explores in her law review article that exact question, and concludes that, no, there shouldn’t be a difference — I’m simplifying, but that’s the gist. And under that theory, yeah, a future president could rejoin the convention on his or her own, utilizing that authority, and then after having rejoined the convention, rejoin the Paris Agreement.
So you mentioned that there’s a provision in the UNFCCC that says you have to give notice that you’re exiting, and you wait a year, and then you exit. What does not waiting a year look like?
Galbraith: It can happen that an entity will announce its exit and then violate international law by violating the treaty terms during that one-year period. If there are, say, reporting obligations that the United States has, it would be a violation of international law not to meet those during the period while you’re still a party to the treaty.
This is obviously an escalation of Trump’s previous actions to withdraw from the Paris Agreement, in the sense that it cuts off the path to rejoining that. What does this tell us about the way the Trump administration views its position within global climate diplomacy, and also the international community, period?
Galbraith: It adds to the impression that we already see other contexts, which is that the second Trump administration is even less inhibited and climate-aware than the first administration was — which is really saying something, right? This is an escalation of a position that was already an international outlier. Every other country is in these things, and it shows a real, powerful, and deeply upsetting failure to address the crisis of the global commons.
Biniaz: The way I think about it is that, during Trump 1, it was more like there was an absence of a positive — so in other words, the administration continued to participate in negotiations. They were not pressing countries to take climate action, but neither were they pressing countries not to take climate action. This administration, you could think of it as not just the absence of a positive, but the presence of a negative. I don’t mean that in any judgmental sense. I just mean there’s been much more of an active push from the administration for others to sort of follow suit or to vote against climate-related agreements such as at the [International Maritime Organization]. That’s quite a difference between 1 and 2.
Going into this past year’s COP, it seemed like there was already a sense that international climate diplomacy was, if not dead, at least the wind had come out of the sails. Do you agree? And if so, do you think that wind will come back?
Biniaz: You have to think of international climate diplomacy very broadly. It’s not just the UNFCCC Paris Agreement and decisions that are taken by consensus. That was pretty thin gruel that came out of COP30. But if you think of international climate diplomacy more broadly as all kinds of initiatives, coalitions that are operating among subgroups of countries and at all levels of stakeholders, there’s really a lot going on in what people call the real world. I think over the next couple of years, the proportion of action that’s taken officially, by consensus, dips somewhat, and action goes up. And maybe that balance shifts over time. But I think it’s wrong to judge climate diplomacy simply by what was achievable by 197 countries, because that’s always going to be the hardest to achieve, with or without the United States.
I think it’s more difficult without a pro-climate U.S. because of the role the U.S. has historically played, in terms of promoting ambition and brokering compromises and that kind of thing. But I don’t think, if you only look at that, it’s not the right metric for judging all of global climate diplomacy.
Log in
To continue reading, log in to your account.
Create a Free Account
To unlock more free articles, please create a free account.
Current conditions: South Korea’s heat wave has killed at least 16 people after the southeastern city of Yangsan recorded an all-time national temperature high of nearly 109 degrees Fahrenheit • Washington authorities arrested a man suspected of arson as the Pacific Northwest state struggles to contain wildfires around Spokane • Typhoon Dolphin intensified into a Category 4 storm as it barrels toward southern Japan, where the ongoing heat wave has killed three female lions at a Tokyo zoo.
The United States could reach a deal with Iran as early as today to reopen the Strait of Hormuz to commercial shipping, Treasury Secretary Scott Bessent said. When asked during a Tuesday appearance on CNBC whether the agreement would allow Tehran to charge a toll to oil tankers, Bessent said the pact would include “freedom of movement.”
The announcement came as President Donald Trump faced a particularly grim economic milestone. Thanks to inflation from the Iran War, the price per gallon of diesel in the U.S. has averaged $4.09 since Trump returned to office in January 2025, according to a Financial Times analysis of Energy Information Administration data. That compares to $4.08 during Biden’s four years in office, when the Ukraine war triggered a price shock on diesel.
When the Trump administration brokered an $80 billion deal to support construction of at least 10 more Westinghouse AP1000 reactors in the U.S., the agreement came with a measure that would allow the federal government to request that the company’s owners offer shares of the legendary developer behind much of the American nuclear fleet on the stock market. It now appears that won’t be necessary. Last week, Westinghouse, a co-venture between Canadian uranium giant Cameco and Toronto-headquartered investment giant Brookfield, filed confidential paperwork with the U.S. Securities and Exchange Commission, laying the groundwork for a possible IPO.
The move came just two weeks after Holtec International, another long-standing stalwart in the industry that’s looking to play a central role in the next U.S. reactor buildout, filed its own S-1 paperwork with the SEC. At present, retail investors have limited options to bet on the nuclear renaissance. Startups such as X-energy, Oklo, and Hadron Energy — none of which has yet built a reactor or won Nuclear Regulatory Commission approval of its design — have dominated the market. Established firms such as the nuclear utility Constellation Energy, fuel maker Centrus Energy, and GE Vernova, whose joint venture with Japanese conglomerate Hitachi is a leading reactor developer, have also benefited. But Westinghouse and Holtec would be among the most serious “pure play” contenders on the market with real balance sheets.
British Prime Minister Andy Burnham took power last month after Labour leader Keir Starmer stepped down amid plummeting support within his own party, clearing the way for the populist former Manchester mayor’s democratic socialist reforms. Among the changes Burnham is expected to make on energy is giving the government an even greater role in developing fusion energy. “Because Burnham is committed to greater public control over utilities like energy, but within existing fiscal rules, his impact on fusion is likely to be about governance and ownership structures — for example stronger public or community stakes in fusion projects and more explicit links to regional development — rather than changing the headline national targets for fusion deployment themselves,” analyst Michael Heumann wrote in The Fusion Report.
It’s the type of intervention for which Japan’s fusion industry is pining. As you may recall, Japan’s conservative new “Iron Lady” Prime Minister Sanae Takaichi is going all in on reviving her country’s nuclear industry. But the FT reports that Japan’s fusion industry is now lobbying for more government support to get off the ground.
Sign up to receive Heatmap AM in your inbox every morning:
Dominion Energy’s Coastal Virginia Offshore Wind project is progressing toward coming online by the end of next year. The timeline for the 2.6-gigawatt facility off Virginia’s shores to install its 176th and final turbine pushes back the start date from early 2027. But Dominion said the schedule “reflects additional contingency for weather, vessel maintenance, loadout operations, and extended jacking activities, rather than changes to the base turbine installation rate, which has been two days per turbine so far,” according to offshoreWIND.biz. The update comes after Trump conceded defeat in his battle to use the Department of Justice to wrestle back federal permits issued to offshore wind projects under the previous administration, my colleague Emily Pontecorvo wrote in June.
On Tuesday evening, meanwhile, 10 judges on the U.S. Court of Appeals for the District of Columbia Circuit upheld an earlier injunction that said the Environmental Protection Agency could not cancel $20 billion in climate grants, ruling in a split decision that recipients should have access to the funds.
Renewables made up 54.1% of Spain’s electricity generation in July — and it’s even higher when you count Spaniards who generated solar at home for self-consumption. That’s according to the latest data the national grid operator Red Electric de España published Tuesday. Generation from renewables surged nearly 6% year-over-year to a record 14,699 gigawatt-hours last month, according to Renewables Now. Solar made up by far the largest share for the fourth consecutive month, accounting for more than 28% of the mix in July.

I’m always fascinated by the parallels between Cuba and Puerto Rico, which — despite shared colonial histories and struggles — took divergent paths in the mid-20th Century, only to both end up with aging grids that can’t keep the lights on. I was reminded of conversations I have had with Boricuas who have spent nights sleeping on balconies and porches when the electricity is out, leaving air conditioners and fans idled on hot nights. In Cuba, that’s now happening en masse as the summer heat collides with the ongoing U.S. oil embargo. “Things are only getting worse. Tomorrow it’ll collapse again ... and we’ll be back to sleeping on the Malecón,” Alexey Ríos García told the Associated Press as he used a piece of yellow foam as a pillow to cushion his head from the tough concrete.
What’s next for electric cars? There’s no consensus.
Here’s the good news on electric cars in America: Sales in the second quarter of 2026 rose by 14% compared to the first quarter, which itself was an improvement on the preceding quarter. And here’s the bad: Even those good-looking Q2 sales numbers this year represent a 20% decrease from the same period in 2025.
Welcome to a confused moment in EV history. Electric vehicle sales in this country grew at a decent rate through the early part of the 2020s — right up until they fell off a cliff last fall when the federal tax credit disappeared and cars became $7,500 more expensive overnight. EVs have begun to recover in the intervening months, especially as Americans look for some respite from high gas prices. Yet the lineup of available EVs for them to purchase has been weakened by endless volatility. Car companies struggle to keep up with Chinese competitors abroad and the Trump administration’s relentless attacks on electric vehicles here. Meanwhile, EV makers have shifting visions of what they want electric cars to be.
In the long run, nothing has changed. The automotive industry is headed in one direction: toward a future dominated by battery-powered electric vehicles. But in the short run, even as EVs are setting sales records in dozens of countries and approaching 30% of the global car fleet, it feels like everyone involved in trying to sell EVs to Americans is driving in a different direction.
Just take a quick accounting of the players. At the start of the decade, Ford pinned its hopes on the F-150 Lightning pickup truck and the Mustang Mach-E, but never figured out how not to lose money on them. Last year, the company then blew up plans for its second-generation EV to go back to the drawing board. It stood up a skunkworks team at a far-flung California factory to learn how to slash manufacturing costs and make a mid-size electric truck in the $30,000s, set to emerge from the shadows next year.
Its Detroit rival, GM, looked to be in better shape. It bet its battery-powered fortunes on the Ultium platform that would underpin many vehicles across its lineup. In doing so, it rolled out a more ambitious lineup than Ford: Not just the Chevy Silverado, Blazer, Equinox, and Bolt, but several well-received Cadillac models that breathed some life into that atrophying brand.
In 2024, GM phased out the Ultium name, seemingly to make room for the next-generation architecture to follow. And then things started to get a little rocky. The Chevy Bolt, a hero of the late 2010s era of EVs, returned just in time to be canceled so GM could build more gas-guzzling Buick crossovers. General Motors is now stuck in a wait-and-see on battery power. It may update its existing EVs, particularly the Equinox, but reportedly has no plans to expand its electric offerings until at least 2030 — when, perhaps, some of the dust of the Trump presidency has settled.
GM’s fortunes look rosy next to those of Stellantis, the global giant that owns car brands like Jeep, Dodge, Chrysler, and Ram. Like competitors Ford and GM, Stellantis has had to take on eight-figure losses as it rejiggers its business to try to compete in the electric future. But unlike the Detroit duo, it has no particular success story even to hang its hat upon. Jeep EVs have been a struggle, and the planned Ram EV pickup never even saw the light of day. Now the great electric hope for pickup trucks is the planned Ram extended-range EV, a truck that would carry a gasoline engine simply to act as an onboard generator that recharges the battery.
Among Japan’s legacy automakers, the surprising insurgent is Toyota. The world’s biggest car company has been perhaps the most openly skeptical of electrification, with leadership arguing time and again against the economic feasibility of electric cars. Public statements make it sounds as if the company is being dragged away from the combustion age against its will. And yet, as the other car companies drift into limbo amid the chaotic current market, here is Toyota, slowly building up something rather than shifting its plans every couple of years.
Though its first true EV, the bZ4x, wasn’t up the standard of today’s best EVs, Toyota has stormed into 2026 with an improved version, the bZ, plus a revival of the C-HR small crossover in fully electric form. Toyota is in the midst of electrifying the Highlander SUV and even rolled out a concept car to tease a battery-powered makeover of the iconic Toyota Corolla. While the rest of the industry retreats from EVs to formulate a new plan, Toyota chose this moment to dive in headfirst. The same is true of its frequent design partner, Subaru, which has finally introduced multiple EVs to join the race.
Compare that with the turmoil at rival Honda. Like Subaru, it borrowed technology to accelerate its entry into the U.S. EV race — in Honda’s case, building the Prologue crossover on GM’s Ultium system. The company put several new EVs in the pipeline that would be Hondas from the ground up. Earlier this year, it killed them all, with leadership convinced its efforts just couldn’t compete, especially in non-U.S. markets where it would go up against the dirt-cheap offerings coming out of China.
Then, of course, there’s Tesla. Elon Musk’s brand is suddenly thriving again, thanks in large part to the vacuum created by the rest of the industry. Tesla, for all its bad press in some corners of the internet, still makes up more than half of EV sales in America, and the numbers soared in Q2 in spite of everything that’s been going on with Musk and his company (his focus on everything else that’s not human-driven cars, his political misadventures, and his reliance on just two aging car models, just to name a few issues).
That legacy car companies have stalled and flip-flopped on electrification as the political winds have changed has left the door open for the other EV-only startups. Rivian’s much-ballyhooed R2 arrived this summer and is off to an excellent start on its mission to make that company mainstream. Slate has finally taken the cover off its affordable electric small pickup. Lucid has been dogged by bankruptcy rumors as it tries to cross the startup’s valley of death, but for now, it’s still chugging.
With the car industry so scattered and disparate on its electrification efforts, it’s hard to know quite what to make of things. We’re a long way from the go-go Biden era, when government incentives for EV production gave automakers the confidence to make proclamations about going fully electric. Back then, it felt like we might be on the cusp of seeing an EV version of just about everything. Now it feels like the United States government is fighting another losing war — this one trying to singlehandedly save petroleum power while the rest of the world moves on.
Electric cars came to America slowly, and then fast. After decades of science experiments and sci-fi promises and Who Killed the Electric Car?, EVs gained a foothold remarkably quickly after the rise of Tesla. Millions of Americans now own one. But the leap from early adoption to mass adoption — which was first delayed by factors like high prices and unease with new technology — has been further forestalled by an antagonistic administration and an industry flailing about it keep up with its whims.
Electrification is coming. But this lull isn’t going away anytime soon.
There‘s a striking amount of agreement across the political system about what the big issues are.
This is an edition of Heatmap Daily, an evening review of the day’s news written by our executive editor. Sign up for it here.
The country's fastest-growing market for data centers is, for now, frozen. Governor Greg Abbott of Texas announced on Monday that the state’s grid authority should not allow any more data centers to hook up until state regulatory agencies complete an audit of existing projects.
As part of this audit, data center developers will have to disclose the following, according to the governor:
“Any data center project that fails to comply” with the audit “must be denied,” Abbott wrote in a letter to the agencies.
Abbott's freeze isn't quite broad enough to be called a full-on moratorium. As The Texas Tribune noted, data centers that aren’t asking to connect to Texas’ power grid can proceed as planned. But the announcement does mean New York is no longer the only state where the governor is trying to slow down data center development. As my colleague Alexander Kaufman wrote today in Heatmap AM, Texas’s governor has more than a little in common with New York’s chief executive, Kathy Hochul — above all, they’re both running for re-election in November.
Now, as far as data center regulation goes, Abbott's disclosure requirements are pretty weak tea. That’s chiefly because they are, well, disclosure requirements — they don't require that any developer actually changes their behavior, just that they publish data saying what they were going to do in the first place.
Yet his announcement put me in mind of something I've been thinking about for a while: There might be more agreement about data center regulation than we think.
Take Michigan, for instance. The progressive Senate candidate in that state, Abdul El-Sayed (who could very likely win the Democratic primary tonight), has become prominent partly by speaking out about data centers. He was early to the topic, publishing mandatory “terms of engagement” for data center developers back in January, and his own rise has tracked the issue’s rising salience in American politics.
Some of El-Sayed’s recent remarks about data centers have an undertone of surprise, as if he is a little astounded by how prominent the issue has become. “There’s literally not a conversation that I have, not a stop that I make, where data centers and AI don’t come up,” he said last month. As he recently marveled on a campaign stop last week: “People really effing hate data centers.”
He hasn't called for a national data center moratorium, though, as his allies and endorsers Senator Bernie Sanders or Representative Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez have. Instead, his blessedly short document says Michiganders should have a few “rights” when a data center wants to build in their community:
He’s also called for an end to tax breaks for data centers.
El-Sayed is on the Democratic Party's left. Earlier today, a candidate seen as in the party’s center — Iowa gubernatorial candidate Rob Sand — released his own data center plan. It demands the following, at somewhat greater length:
Look — it’s pretty similar to El-Sayed’s list! Sand might be a moderate, and El-Sayed might be a progressive, but it’s hard to see too much daylight between their data center policies.
What’s notable about these policies is what’s not in them. Neither El-Sayed nor Sand would require that data centers be powered by clean energy, as, say, the Wisconsin DSA gubernatorial candidate Francesca Hong has proposed. Neither El-Sayed nor Sand moots a statewide moratorium on data centers, either. And while their proposals would have more teeth, in theory, than Abbott’s audit, the three proposals are interested in the same questions — energy use, water use, physical footprint, and tax incentives.
As we’ve frequently noted at Heatmap, the data center backlash is strikingly bipartisan. Americans of many backgrounds, belief systems, and byways of life agree that the data center boom is becoming a problem. I wonder if there’s more agreement about the solution, too, than we might think.