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When did birdwatching become cool — and why didn’t it happen in time to save me from the middle school nickname “bird boy?”
Truth is, I was fine with the light teasing I received for my teenage fixation on avifauna. It didn’t stop me from decorating the back corner of our biology classroom with clippings about Pale Male (Manhattan’s celebrity red-tail), or from earning a New York state falconry license at the age of 12, or even from watching Canada geese migrate over my high school campus while my peers ogled each other from the bleachers. Still, none of it exactly built my social capital.
That’s why lately, I’ve been delighted to see the cool kids picking up binoculars. The bird boys (and girls) won.

The past few years have seen increased interest in the formerly unsexy act of watching birds go about their business. Birdwatching clubs founded by young creatives are hatching in major metropolitan areas, and downtown fashion brands and high street houses alike are linking up with them for collaboration and clout. Direct-to-consumer brands are disrupting the binoculars industry. Chart-topping rappers are out spotting robins and taking field notes. It’s the beginning of a beautiful new model for tuning in to the natural world (even if it’s still pretty based in consumption).
The coolness of birding was even foreordained. All the way back in 2014, Esquire prophesied that birdwatching was about to have a moment. They were right, if a decade or so early. To take flight, birding needed to tap into a few other trends first.
The birding trend really began — like so many trends — in the throes of the coronavirus pandemic.
The lockdowns of 2020 prompted something of a renaissance for the animal kingdom, as stifling restrictions on human mobility and commerce allowed nature to briefly exhale. Wild boar roamed the streets of Haifa. Roadkill became more scarce. Without sonar, engine, or construction noise, whale song traveled our oceans unmolested.
Birds thrived, too. For example, city birds, who typically sing louder, less interesting songs than their rural relatives to compete with sound pollution, began performing softer, more intricate melodies.
Newly ordained armchair ornithologists claimed front-row seats to these small operas playing out on their fire escapes and feeders. Binocular sales went up 22% year over year. A major annual bird-spotting event that May saw unprecedented participation from the public.
Lockdowns had made birding useful. Events in the spring would make birding subversive.
The most consequential birdwatching story of the year was the fraught confrontation between a white dog walker and a Black birder in the Ramble section of Central Park on May 25, 2020. Later that day, George Floyd was killed by Minneapolis police. The two events exploded simultaneously, one representing how law enforcement makes public space unsafe for minorities, the other how ordinary white people do the same in the outdoors.
A collective called BlackAFinSTEM quickly mobilized #BlackBirdersWeek, and the next month, 17 people gathered at London’s Walthamstow Wetlands for the first outing of Flock Together, “a birdwatching collective for people of colour.” The names of certain species came under scrutiny for racist associations. Though their work is far from done, the creative efforts of activist-naturalists started dispelling the myth that nature is owned by any one community — and gave birdwatching a revolutionary appeal.
The world is also becoming more aware of what we’re doing to bird populations. In 2022, 188 countries signed a sweeping agreement pledging, among other things, to conserve nearly a third of our planet’s land and ocean by 2030. As the crowning achievement of the United Nations Biodiversity Conference in Montreal, the accord is the clearest admission yet of the extinction crisis caused by climate change and ecological destruction. Right now, some million species of plant and animal are at high risk of disappearance, a rate unseen since the extinction of the dinosaurs 65 million years ago.
Birds, the closest living relatives of those prehistoric giants, are sensitive organisms, and in North America alone, populations have dropped by more than one quarter — or three billion birds — in the last 50 years. Globally, roughly 48% of surviving bird species are experiencing population decline. If scarcity drives demand, perhaps these tragic figures are also helping lift the world’s eyes to the winged wonder in our midst.
So how do we know watching birds is finally cool?
There’s evidence in the airwaves, with Flock Together dropping EPs and mixes, using sound “as a means of bringing nature to the people,” as Fader writes. Or we can look to Doja Cat, who joined Rolling Stone staff writer Charles Holmes for an outing in Central Park on the web series Birding with Charles, struggling to reach the binocular eye cups with her formidable lashes. (The HBO series Chillin Island has a similar premise, taking musical icons like Killer Mike, Young Thug, and Rosalía into the wild.)

Fashion has also been touched by the avian invasion. Street style website Hypebeast posted “All the Gear You’ll Need for Birdwatching in the City,” and members of Flock Together presenting outerwear by the brand Berghaus. On Highsnobiety, the Flock Together founders modeled Gucci’s collaboration with The North Face, while Feminist Bird Club released a capsule collection featuring leopard print binocular straps with the sustainable prep-skate brand Noah.
Never missing a chance to cash in, the DTC world has brought us Nocs Provisions and its range of affordable optics, while at the more refined end of the spectrum, raptors are increasingly hot accessories in photo and video shoots. Witness Ethan Hawke holding an African hawk-eagle (furnished by my friends at Falconry Excursions) in The Rake last year. Fashion’s ongoing love affair with the outdoors plays a part too, as birders make good models for utilitarian gear. After all, we need cool clothes, too — to brave the brambles.

In my own circle, I’ve been glad to see friends turn on to birding, some even starting to cultivate native plants in their gardens to make their properties more hospitable, as recommended by experts (even if our warming planet is scrambling what native gardening means).
As for me, I’m interested in the ways this phenomenon might permeate less glamorous parts of modern life. Perhaps somewhere soon, a middle-school bird boy will finally find the courage to ask their crush on a date to see the barn swallows make their spring migration, together.
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According to a new analysis shared exclusively with Heatmap, coal’s equipment-related outage rate is about twice as high as wind’s.
The Trump administration wants “beautiful clean coal” to return to its place of pride on the electric grid because, it says, wind and solar are just too unreliable. “If we want to keep the lights on and prevent blackouts from happening, then we need to keep our coal plants running. Affordable, reliable and secure energy sources are common sense,” Chris Wright said on X in July, in what has become a steady drumbeat from the administration that has sought to subsidize coal and put a regulatory straitjacket around solar and (especially) wind.
This has meant real money spent in support of existing coal plants. The administration’s emergency order to keep Michigan’s J.H. Campbell coal plant open (“to secure grid reliability”), for example, has cost ratepayers served by Michigan utility Consumers Energy some $80 million all on its own.
But … how reliable is coal, actually? According to an analysis by the Environmental Defense Fund of data from the North American Electric Reliability Corporation, a nonprofit that oversees reliability standards for the grid, coal has the highest “equipment-related outage rate” — essentially, the percentage of time a generator isn’t working because of some kind of mechanical or other issue related to its physical structure — among coal, hydropower, natural gas, nuclear, and wind. Coal’s outage rate was over 12%. Wind’s was about 6.6%.
“When EDF’s team isolated just equipment-related outages, wind energy proved far more reliable than coal, which had the highest outage rate of any source NERC tracks,” EDF told me in an emailed statement.
Coal’s reliability has, in fact, been decreasing, Oliver Chapman, a research analyst at EDF, told me.
NERC has attributed this falling reliability to the changing role of coal in the energy system. Reliability “negatively correlates most strongly to capacity factor,” or how often the plant is running compared to its peak capacity. The data also “aligns with industry statements indicating that reduced investment in maintenance and abnormal cycling that are being adopted primarily in response to rapid changes in the resource mix are negatively impacting baseload coal unit performance.” In other words, coal is struggling to keep up with its changing role in the energy system. That’s due not just to the growth of solar and wind energy, which are inherently (but predictably) variable, but also to natural gas’s increasing prominence on the grid.
“When coal plants are having to be a bit more varied in their generation, we're seeing that wear and tear of those plants is increasing,” Chapman said. “The assumption is that that's only going to go up in future years.”
The issue for any plan to revitalize the coal industry, Chapman told me, is that the forces driving coal into this secondary role — namely the economics of running aging plants compared to natural gas and renewables — do not seem likely to reverse themselves any time soon.
Coal has been “sort of continuously pushed a bit more to the sidelines by renewables and natural gas being cheaper sources for utilities to generate their power. This increased marginalization is going to continue to lead to greater wear and tear on these plants,” Chapman said.
But with electricity demand increasing across the country, coal is being forced into a role that it might not be able to easily — or affordably — play, all while leading to more emissions of sulfur dioxide, nitrogen oxide, particulate matter, mercury, and, of course, carbon dioxide.
The coal system has been beset by a number of high-profile outages recently, including at the largest new coal plant in the country, Sandy Creek in Texas, which could be offline until early 2027, according to the Texas energy market ERCOT and the Institute for Energy Economics and Financial Analysis.
In at least one case, coal’s reliability issues were cited as a reason to keep another coal generating unit open past its planned retirement date.
Last month, Colorado Representative Will Hurd wrote a letter to the Department of Energy asking for emergency action to keep Unit 2 of the Comanche coal plant in Pueblo, Colorado open past its scheduled retirement at the end of his year. Hurd cited “mechanical and regulatory constraints” for the larger Unit 3 as a justification for keeping Unit 2 open, to fill in the generation gap left by the larger unit. In a filing by Xcel and several Colorado state energy officials also requesting delaying the retirement of Unit 2, they disclosed that the larger Unit 3 “experienced an unplanned outage and is offline through at least June 2026.”
Reliability issues aside, high electricity demand may turn into short-term profits at all levels of the coal industry, from the miners to the power plants.
At the same time the Trump administration is pushing coal plants to stay open past their scheduled retirement, the Energy Information Administration is forecasting that natural gas prices will continue to rise, which could lead to increased use of coal for electricity generation. The EIA forecasts that the 2025 average price of natural gas for power plants will rise 37% from 2024 levels.
Analysts at S&P Global Commodity Insights project “a continued rebound in thermal coal consumption throughout 2026 as thermal coal prices remain competitive with short-term natural gas prices encouraging gas-to-coal switching,” S&P coal analyst Wendy Schallom told me in an email.
“Stronger power demand, rising natural gas prices, delayed coal retirements, stockpiles trending lower, and strong thermal coal exports are vital to U.S. coal revival in 2025 and 2026.”
And we’re all going to be paying the price.
Rural Marylanders have asked for the president’s help to oppose the data center-related development — but so far they haven’t gotten it.
A transmission line in Maryland is pitting rural conservatives against Big Tech in a way that highlights the growing political sensitivities of the data center backlash. Opponents of the project want President Trump to intervene, but they’re worried he’ll ignore them — or even side with the data center developers.
The Piedmont Reliability Project would connect the Peach Bottom nuclear plant in southern Pennsylvania to electricity customers in northern Virginia, i.e.data centers, most likely. To get from A to B, the power line would have to criss-cross agricultural lands between Baltimore, Maryland and the Washington D.C. area.
As we chronicle time and time again in The Fight, residents in farming communities are fighting back aggressively – protesting, petitioning, suing and yelling loudly. Things have gotten so tense that some are refusing to let representatives for Piedmont’s developer, PSEG, onto their properties, and a court battle is currently underway over giving the company federal marshal protection amid threats from landowners.
Exacerbating the situation is a quirk we don’t often deal with in The Fight. Unlike energy generation projects, which are usually subject to local review, transmission sits entirely under the purview of Maryland’s Public Service Commission, a five-member board consisting entirely of Democrats appointed by current Governor Wes Moore – a rumored candidate for the 2028 Democratic presidential nomination. It’s going to be months before the PSC formally considers the Piedmont project, and it likely won’t issue a decision until 2027 – a date convenient for Moore, as it’s right after he’s up for re-election. Moore last month expressed “concerns” about the project’s development process, but has brushed aside calls to take a personal position on whether it should ultimately be built.
Enter a potential Trump card that could force Moore’s hand. In early October, commissioners and state legislators representing Carroll County – one of the farm-heavy counties in Piedmont’s path – sent Trump a letter requesting that he intervene in the case before the commission. The letter followed previous examples of Trump coming in to kill planned projects, including the Grain Belt Express transmission line and a Tennessee Valley Authority gas plant in Tennessee that was relocated after lobbying from a country rock musician.
One of the letter’s lead signatories was Kenneth Kiler, president of the Carroll County Board of Commissioners, who told me this lobbying effort will soon expand beyond Trump to the Agriculture and Energy Departments. He’s hoping regulators weigh in before PJM, the regional grid operator overseeing Mid-Atlantic states. “We’re hoping they go to PJM and say, ‘You’re supposed to be managing the grid, and if you were properly managing the grid you wouldn’t need to build a transmission line through a state you’re not giving power to.’”
Part of the reason why these efforts are expanding, though, is that it’s been more than a month since they sent their letter, and they’ve heard nothing but radio silence from the White House.
“My worry is that I think President Trump likes and sees the need for data centers. They take a lot of water and a lot of electric [power],” Kiler, a Republican, told me in an interview. “He’s conservative, he values property rights, but I’m not sure that he’s not wanting data centers so badly that he feels this request is justified.”
Kiler told me the plan to kill the transmission line centers hinges on delaying development long enough that interest rates, inflation and rising demand for electricity make it too painful and inconvenient to build it through his resentful community. It’s easy to believe the federal government flexing its muscle here would help with that, either by drawing out the decision-making or employing some other as yet unforeseen stall tactic. “That’s why we’re doing this second letter to the Secretary of Agriculture and Secretary of Energy asking them for help. I think they may be more sympathetic than the president,” Kiler said.
At the moment, Kiler thinks the odds of Piedmont’s construction come down to a coin flip – 50-50. “They’re running straight through us for data centers. We want this project stopped, and we’ll fight as well as we can, but it just seems like ultimately they’re going to do it,” he confessed to me.
Thus is the predicament of the rural Marylander. On the one hand, Kiler’s situation represents a great opportunity for a GOP president to come in and stand with his base against a would-be presidential candidate. On the other, data center development and artificial intelligence represent one of the president’s few economic bright spots, and he has dedicated copious policy attention to expanding growth in this precise avenue of the tech sector. It’s hard to imagine something less “energy dominance” than killing a transmission line.
The White House did not respond to a request for comment.
Plus more of the week’s most important fights around renewable energy.
1. Wayne County, Nebraska – The Trump administration fined Orsted during the government shutdown for allegedly killing bald eagles at two of its wind projects, the first indications of financial penalties for energy companies under Trump’s wind industry crackdown.
2. Ocean County, New Jersey – Speaking of wind, I broke news earlier this week that one of the nation’s largest renewable energy projects is now deceased: the Leading Light offshore wind project.
3. Dane County, Wisconsin – The fight over a ginormous data center development out here is turning into perhaps one of the nation’s most important local conflicts over AI and land use.
4. Hardeman County, Texas – It’s not all bad news today for renewable energy – because it never really is.