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Stanford’s Rob Jackson discusses methane, the “my-ocene,” and his new book, Into the Clear Blue Sky.

Mornings are my time for thinking about Rob Jackson — specifically, when I am making coffee. Every time I reach for the knob on my gas stove to heat my water kettle, I remember something he told me during our discussion of his new book, Into the Clear Blue Sky: The Path to Restoring Our Atmosphere: “We would never willingly stand over the tailpipe of a car breathing in the exhaust, yet we willingly stand over a stove, breathing the exact same pollutants.”
Mornings, incidentally, are also my time for practicing holding my breath.
Jackson is the chair of the Global Carbon Project, a professor of Earth science and a senior fellow at Stanford University’s Woods Institute for the Environment and Precourt Institute for Energy, as well as one of the most highly-cited climate and environmental scientists in the world — all a long way of saying, he spends a lot of time thinking about kitchens and neighborhoods just like mine. But emissions aren’t the only thing that occupies Jackson’s time these days; while he stresses that reducing emissions is still the “cheapest, safest, and only sure path to a safe climate,” his book also reluctantly examines technologies that remove greenhouse gases from the atmosphere after they’ve been emitted. “In truth, I’m frustrated … because we shouldn’t need them,” he explains.
Ahead of the release of Into the Clear Blue Sky on July 30, I spoke with Jackson about why it’s so difficult to make people care about atmospheric restoration in the same way they care about habitat loss or extreme weather, and the stories, people, and emerging technologies that do make him hopeful. Our conversation has been lightly edited and condensed for clarity.
In the introduction to Into the Clear Blue Sky, you write that restoring the atmosphere “must invoke the same spirit and philosophy used to restore endangered species and habitats to health.” But unlike with polar bears or glaciers, we usually can’t see the damage to the atmosphere. Do you think that is part of why we’ve been so slow and halting in addressing greenhouse gas pollution?
A little bit, I do. I think the real reason we’ve been slow to address greenhouse gas pollution is because we are better at just continuing with the status quo. We aren’t making changes in our lifestyles and our industries. I’ve grown skeptical that people will respond to climate thresholds like 1.5 [degrees Celsius of warming] or 2 C. People don’t really understand why those numbers are important — they don’t understand what they mean in paleo-time, in terms of sea level rise and ice melt. I’m seeking a different motivator, a different narrative for change. And I think restoration is a more powerful narrative than some arbitrary temperature number.
There are several moments in the book where you suggest that decarbonization has benefits beyond just addressing climate change — like how feeding cows red seaweed accelerates their weight gain, or how electric motorcycles don’t have the fumes, vibrations, or noise of gas-powered motorcycles. Do you think we need to market green technologies in ways that go beyond just cleaning up the atmosphere?
Yes. Approximately half the population in the United States isn’t motivated by concerns about climate change, and we have to reach them a different way. I strongly believe that climate solutions won’t just help our grandchildren; they’ll help make us healthier today, and ultimately help us save money.
Air pollution is the best example: Our air is cleaner today than when I was a boy. So is our water. But there are 100,000 Americans who still die from coal and car pollution every year in the United States, and one in five people worldwide — that’s 10 billion people a year who die from fossil fuel pollution. Those deaths are unnecessary and senseless. We have cleaner technologies available now. So if we can help people see that clean energy and climate solutions will restore our water and air, they might be more likely to say, “Okay, let’s give it a try.”
CO2 and methane are the big villains of the book, but I noticed that you don’t tangle with nitrous oxide too much. Was there any thinking behind that decision?
The problem with nitrous oxide is there are fewer things that we can do to reduce emissions. The number one source of nitrous oxide pollution — which causes about 10% of global warming, it’s not a trivial amount — is nitrogen fertilization for our crops. It’s a very complicated discussion when you get into growing food for people around the world, especially in poor countries, and climate change caused by resource consumption in richer countries. The issues are more complicated, and the solution set is smaller.
In your chapter about hydrogen — which you express some doubts about — you say it’s not your job as a scientist to “pick winners and losers.” I’m curious about these moments of tension between your personal opinions and your position as a scientist. When do you speak up, and when do you choose to stand back?
I wish I had a perfect answer to that. I speak more often now than I did earlier in my career. I feel that we’ve run out of time. There’s more urgency today. I feel like I no longer have the luxury of just letting the data speak. I want to try to help people understand the available solutions and the things that we can do individually and systematically.
To succeed in the fight against climate change, we will, I think, need to accept solutions that are not our favorites. And that’s a difficult message. People tend to fight everything they’re not 100% happy with, but the climate is not going to be fixed by any single solution.
The part of your book that made me the most anxious was the chapter about methane leaks, where you’re driving around Boston taking air samples and having the methane sensors go off all over the place. It also reminds me of the chapter on indoor air pollution and how many of these forms of pollution are so passive — like methane quietly leaking into our homes or up from under our streets.
The city home work has been really interesting, and it’s consumed a lot of recent years of my life — much more than I expected it to. And yet the biggest surprise of our methane work in the homes was how slow but consistent leaks from appliances like stoves and the pipes in people’s walls produced more pollution than the methane that leaked when the appliances were on. And that’s because the appliance might be on for an hour a day, but for 23 hours a day, the slow bleed of methane continues to the atmosphere.
It isn’t passive, though. The pollutants we document include NOx gases that trigger asthma. Benzene, formed in flames, is a carcinogen. We would never willingly stand over the tailpipe of a car breathing in the exhaust, yet we willingly stand over a stove, breathing the exact same pollutants, day after day, meal after meal, year after year.
Your book takes readers to many places worldwide. Is there any one project or organization that stands out to you as particularly exciting or crucial?
I very much enjoyed learning about green steel manufacturing. The chapter that I enjoyed the most, though, was the trip to Finland [to see the work of the Snowchange Cooperative, a landscape restoration group]. What I liked about that project, first of all, was seeing people taking matters into their own hands and working for solutions. But what was so interesting for me was the idea of “rewilding,” in the European sense — they’re not interested in trying to recreate an exact replica of something that was present in 1900. They’re trying to restore a functioning ecosystem that will still be there in 100 years. It’s a beautiful sight and the message was very moving for me.
The book vacillates between optimism and a kind of wary realism. I think that’s kind of the conundrum of climate activists on the whole, but is it something you have thoughts about? Do you want readers to come away hopeful, or are you hoping this galvanizes action, too?
That duality, that tension, is deeply rooted in me, and perhaps many people who care about climate and environment. I study the Earth for a living; I see the changes happening not just year to year but decade to decade from now. And you can’t help but be discouraged about the lack of progress.
But on the other hand, I talk to students about how optimism and hope are muscles we can exercise. My first homework assignment in every class is for students to find things that are better today than they were 50 or 100 years ago. That list is long: life expectancy and childhood mortality; water and air quality; the decline of global poverty despite all the injustices that remain. Then there are many specific examples, like the phase-out of leaded gasoline, the Montreal Protocol, and my favorite example, the U.S. Clean Air Act, which saves hundreds of thousands of lives a year at a 30-fold return on investment, so workers are healthier and more productive. We all breathe easier and pay lower medical expenses from air pollution. So I talk to students about how it’s important to acknowledge past successes; by doing so, we make future successes, such as climate, more likely.
Are there any last thoughts about your book that you want to leave readers with?
In the book, I tend to emphasize technologies — maybe to a fault. We don’t talk enough about reducing consumption and demand. The world is deeply unequal in terms of resource use and pollution.
I’m obviously a nerdy guy, and I talk about how we’re in the “myocene” — the my-ocene — the era when the top 1% of the world’s population contributes more fossil carbon emissions than half the people on Earth. The world cannot support the global population at the levels of resource use that we have in the United States right now. Either we need to reduce our energy use and consumption somewhat, or those other people in those other countries will aspire to be like us and they’ll produce and use more.
One example is cars: if everyone in the world owned cars at the rate we do, there would be 7 billion cars instead of about 1.5 billion. And I don’t care whether those cars are EVs or hydrogen vehicles or whatever; the world would not be a more sustainable and richer place with 5 billion more cars on it. We need to talk about using less in this country, not just building new things.
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My colleague Emily Pontecorvo has a fascinating story today about Net Power, an energy and power development company whose technology once seemed key to decarbonizing the country’s electricity grid.
When Net Power went public in 2023, it was working on a natural gas-burning power plant that would generate little to no emissions in part by using carbon capture and storage. Its invention seemed to have big implications, and not just for the company’s bottom line: Back then, the Environmental Protection Agency was drafting climate rules that would have required new natural gas plants built in the 2030s to capture their carbon dioxide emissions. Net Power’s technology seemed like one of the best available ways to meet that standard.
Cut to 2026, and the world looks different. Thanks to the artificial intelligence boom, electricity demand is surging. But Net Power hasn’t successfully commercialized its proprietary power plant technology. Even if it had, few companies are willing to pay the high premium required by Net Power’s technology, especially when cheaper options are available. And the government certainly isn’t going to require it. Emily’s story reveals what happened next.
When I helped start Heatmap more than three years ago, I never thought I would write this much about data centers. I believed that electricity demand growth was inevitable, sure, and I thought the U.S. power grid had to expand for the country to decarbonize. But I didn’t foresee such a staggering near-term surge in electricity demand. (To be fair, even long-time students of the computing industry’s energy use didn’t see the coming increase, either.)
What I didn’t anticipate — or understand — were two fast-moving trends. The first was that the AI models were responding to scale: the more text or images they consumed, or training they received, or (crucially) computational power they had access to, the better they got. The second was that Wall Street was happy to pay to continue that speedy scale-up. As long as models kept getting better, investors were willing to keep lending or investing more money to the companies making them. Through the power of those two scaling functions, the data center boom became one of the biggest infrastructure buildouts in American history.
In recent days, the second of those trends has started to falter. After a surprisingly hot inflation report last week, and a disclosure on Wednesday evening that Meta has gone free cash flow negative to finance its ongoing AI buildout, stocks with any proximity to AI or data centers stumbled on Wall Street today. The data center developers Coreweave and Vistra were each down about 10%, while Microsoft, Alphabet, and Nvidia all fell in daily trading. Meta’s stock lost almost 7% of its value; GE Vernova, which produces gas turbines, was down 10%.
These declines look more significant when you zoom out. Since late June, a good chunk of the AI portfolio has sagged into the red. Coreweave’s stock is down 54% over the past six months. Alphabet and GE Vernova have also posted declines since the summer. (The trend isn’t uniform: Nvidia and Microsoft are still very much in the green.)
None of this, to be sure, guarantees that the AI boom is ending or even slowing down. But this finance-applied friction is what such a slowdown could look like. Investors aren’t (yet) saying that AI is a business dud, to be clear, just that companies perhaps don’t need to go and construct all this stuff so fast. And given what the data center buildout has meant for energy construction — not to mention greenhouse gas emissions — that’s a trend nobody in climate or energy can ignore.
The zero-emission pioneer is doing the dirty work for the AI boom.
All kinds of companies have refashioned themselves to exploit the AI boom. A bitcoin miner became a data center developer, a shoemaker is building GPUs, and an electric vehicle company is integrating its powertrains into server racks.
Now, a company that once aspired to build one of the lowest-emitting power plants has pivoted to building one of the dirtiest in order to meet data centers’ requirement for speed to power above all. Net Power was founded to pioneer a new form of natural gas power plant with zero emissions, but it has given up on that technology and recently acquired 10 natural gas reciprocating engines that it plans to co-locate with a data center on the site intended for its first commercial plant.
“We believe the clean piece is important,” Net Power CEO Danny Rice said during an August earnings call when he announced the company’s pivot to building unabated natural gas plants. “But just as it’s always been, it will only come at scale once society’s basic energy pillars of reliable, affordable power are fully in place. Power demand is outstripping supply today.”
Net Power’s pivot is a sign not only that the AI boom has eroded market appetite for clean power, but that U.S. policies supporting carbon capture — primarily the 45Q tax credit that President Trump’s One Big Beautiful Bill Act recently expanded — are still not enough to support the technology’s deployment in the power sector.
“The long history of doing CCS in the United States is there isn’t enough public funding to get companies to deploy it at scale,” Jack Andreasen Cavanaugh, a senior research associate at Columbia University’s Center on Global Energy Policy, told me.
This is actually the second major pivot the company has made in less than a year. Last November, Net Power was still testing its proprietary oxy-combustion technology at its demonstration site in La Porte, Texas. The tech was designed to burn natural gas in a chamber with pure oxygen, producing a purer stream of CO2 than when natural gas is burned in regular air. Net Power’s system could recycle some of that CO2 for power generation and capture the rest more efficiently than a conventional gas plant could. The company had not yet demonstrated that the system could generate more energy than it used, however.
By that point, Net Power had determined that its oxy-combustion plants, if they ever even did generate net power, would not be economically competitive anytime soon. In its 2025 Q3 financial report, the company said it had “decided to broaden the scope of its business” and develop more conventional natural gas plants with carbon capture equipment tacked on. It signed a letter of intent with Entropy, a Canadian company building “post-combustion” carbon capture equipment, to bring the tech to the United States, and ordered two 30-megawatt Siemens natural gas turbines for 2028 delivery.
“For us and everyone else in the power and data center space these days, speed is everything,” Rice said at the time. “We believe gas turbines with [post-combustion capture] can and should be the fastest-to-market and most cost-competitive clean, firm solution for our prospective customers.”
He told investors that rising costs were one of the setbacks Net Power faced in building its first-of-a-kind oxy-combustion plant. It was highly unlikely the company could finance and build a $1.7 billion, 200-megawatt plant before completing all its testing, he said. The best-case scenario for the plant to come online was 2030 or 2031, and costs might keep rising with inflation. The company could either bet on that prospect and keep bleeding cash, or “slow down that spending in order to free up some of our resources for near-term accretive opportunities.” As a public company with shareholders to answer to, there was really only one choice.
By the end of 2025, Net Power decided to suspend its oxy-combustion development and testing activities altogether, according to its year-end SEC filing.
Six months later, the company’s thesis changed again. Gas turbines with post-combustion capture, it turned out, were not the “fastest-to-market and most cost-competitive” solutions that the company had hoped they’d be. Whereas once upon a time, electricity buyers considered a range of factors when shopping around for power, including carbon emissions, the reality was that they were now only looking for three qualities: speed, reliability, and scale. “Natural gas power generation, co-located with customer load, and deployable on a fast timeline, is how we expect to meet that demand today,” Rice told investors, adding that the company hoped to add carbon capture to its projects in the future.
To date, only one proposed U.S. natural gas plant with carbon capture has announced a deal to sell its prospective power. In October 2025, Google signed a power purchase agreement with the Broadwing Energy Center, an Illinois plant under development by a company called Low Carbon Infrastructure.
“There is a massive demand for unabated gas right now, and there is much less of a demand for carbon capture,” Cavanaugh said. He told me there are still lots of conversations happening between hyperscalers and carbon capture companies, but the physical realities and costs of capturing, transporting, and storing carbon from natural gas plants remain obstacles.
The Global CCS Institute published its annual Global Status of CCS report this week, which found more than 266 carbon capture, transport, or storage projects are under development in the U.S., but permitting delays and policy uncertainty are stalling their progress. “Inflation and rising capital costs have weakened project economics, reducing the effectiveness of existing policies, such as tax and investment credits,” the report said.
That doesn’t mean there aren’t still companies trying. Net Power may have given up on oxy-combustion power plants for now, but Arbor Energy, a startup founded by former SpaceX engineers, is just ramping up. Arbor announced a milestone in the development of its own oxy-combustion power generator last week, running a key piece of its system — a supercritical CO2 turbocompressor — for more than two hours at high speeds.
Arbor differentiates itself by using 3D-printed turbines and developing smaller, more modular plants. It’s scaling more incrementally than Net Power tried to, starting with a 1-megawatt demonstration plant in California that is “weeks away” from operating, the company’s Chief Operating Officer Alicia Harmon told me — although the project won’t include carbon storage. It plans to build a 25-megawatt demonstration plant by 2028, also sans storage, before manufacturing commercial-scale systems.
Arbor actually went through a pivot of its own due to the data center boom. The founders originally planned to focus on bioenergy with carbon removal, using the oxy-combustion technology to generate power from biomass and storing the resulting CO2 underground. Over time, though, it became clear that demand for power outpaced demand for carbon removal, and natural gas was more abundant than biomass.
I asked Harmon whether the company thought there was market demand for carbon-capture gas plants. Is anyone willing to pay that green premium right now? “Honestly, my answer is no,” she said, but the company sees a path to erasing the green premium by the early 2030s. She added that Arbor’s technology is already “very close” to parity with combined-cycle natural gas plants when the 45Q tax credit is taken into account.
Last month, Net Power announced it had acquired 123 megawatts’ worth of Wärtsilä reciprocating engines, in addition to the Siemens turbines it had already ordered. Reciprocating engines are among the dirtiest natural gas power-generation technologies. A recent report from Earthjustice estimated that a 1-gigawatt plant powered by reciprocating engines would emit 1.5 times as much CO2 per year as one powered by the “combined cycle” technology most modern plants use, and twice as much nitrogen oxides and fine particulate matter. It has not yet disclosed any data center partners to sell the power to.
Net Power declined to comment on this story.
Ben Allen wants to reform the existing market. Jane Kim wants a revolution.
From Crescent City to Coronado, California voters are facing decisions on a down-ballot strewn with over a dozen propositions and a series of statewide Democrat-versus-Republican races with mostly foregone conclusions.
And then there’s the insurance commissioner.
In the race to oversee California’s insurance market, a $452 billion-in-premium-volume monster imperiled by insurer defections and disaster risks, Democratic State Senator Ben Allen, whose district includes Pacific Palisades, is facing off against Jane Kim, a progressive former San Francisco supervisor.
Kim has the support of Vermont Senator Bernie Sanders — it’s the first thing you see about her when you Google her campaign. She previously served as his California political director during the 2020 presidential race, and she appeared earlier this month at an event with the senator in support of the state’s proposed billionaire wealth tax.
Allen, by contrast, won the endorsement of the state’s Democratic Party and its two incumbent senators.
There has been little public polling of the race, but one September survey showed Kim leading Allen 25% to 18%, with more than half the electorate undecided.
“My opponent and I are not even running for the same office,” Kim told me. “He’s running for what this office used to be, and I’m running for what this office could be.”
Allen wasn’t worried about Kim’s characterization in my interview with him, telling me, “I want to fix the market that we have and make it work. My opponent wants to build a new state insurer that nobody has priced.”
Nowhere are the stakes of insurance regulation higher than in California. On its own, the state’s insurance market would be the third largest in the world, according to the National Association of Insurance Commissioners. Homeowner insurance premiums have risen 84% from the end of 2020 to March 2026, according to research from Stanford’s Climate and Energy Policy Program. Several large insurers have either left the market entirely or stopped writing new policies.
California’s creaky and complex regulatory environment for insurers has combined with its famously flammable environment (all beset by a warming climate) to put regular policyholders at risk of losing their policies or bailing out those who can’t get covered. “Climate risks grow, and our mechanisms for dealing with it lag behind,” Matt Weiner, the chief executive of the wildfire policy group Megafire Action, told me. (Weiner said he was supporting Allen in his personal capacity).
Rates for homes insured by the FAIR Plan, the barebones insurer of last resort, have more than doubled from about 2% to 5% over that same period, with FAIR Plan coverage spreading from just high-risk areas to even areas with low and moderate wildfire risk. The plan required a $1 billion assessment from the state’s insurers in 2025 following major Southern California fires. “This trend is a symptom of many homeowners’ inability to secure insurance in the conventional market,” according to the Stanford researchers.
Allen seeks to make the insurance market work better, building on reforms implemented by current Insurance Commissioner Ricardo Lara. Allen described the reforms, which encourage insurers to write policies in high-risk areas and allow them to use forward-looking projections, as a “bit of a band-aid” that doesn’t “actually get to the core of the problem, which is making these communities less risky.”
Allen’s plan for the California insurance market involves both reviewing rate proposals more quickly, incorporating more data into those rates (which may push rates up, but also keep insurers in the market), and mobilizing the whole of government to invest in home hardening and resilience to lower risk and bring premiums down. Allen wants to, well, insure “that risk reduction is actually incentivized and rewarded by the insurance market,” he told me.
This would mean that “there will continue to be certain properties that are going to be so high risk that they really will and ought to be paying significantly more than everybody else,” he added.
When I asked him to elaborate on his vision for California’s insurance future, he told me, “My hope is that when a family and a neighborhood commit to hardening defensible space and community-scale mitigation, that should show up on the bill.”
Jane Kim, on the other hand, is interested in an insurance revolution, which would require — as her most famous supporter might put it — a political revolution as well. Her centerpiece proposal will be familiar from anyone who has followed Sanders’ career: a single-payer disaster insurer.
The plan, which she told me was a “concept and a proposal,” would be funded by a levy placed on insurers, and then a public insurer would invest in the market, buy reinsurance, and pay out claims. (Her opponents have criticized her for not being forthcoming enough with details). She says her plan would not be able to cover a Palisades- or Altadena-level fire in its first year, “but no insurance company can cover a catastrophe of that level.”
The nonprofit nature of the program, she adds, would let the state fund mitigation work directly. While such a program would require legislative action, “the great thing about campaigns is that this is trying to debate big ideas with voters,” Kim said.
In response, Allen cited a report from the California Earthquake Authority, which modeled a state disaster insurer (albeit not Kim’s plan specifically) could require $25 billion in capitalization. A more thinly capitalized insurer could mean $2,000 assessments on every policyholder in the state to cover an extreme wildfire disaster, the report said. “That’s the honest price of what she’s proposing,” Allen said.
“I also have a plan that’s actually grounded in reality and fixing the problems right now. It's not based on some pie-in-the-sky set of ideas that have no precedent, that have no real meat on the bones,” Allen told me.
One of Allen and Kim’s former opponents, Patrick Wolff, who fell short in the top-two primary election in June, told me that “the charitable interpretation of Kim’s platform is she does not think the current system can be made to work, and so she essentially wants to redesign and reimagine the entire system.” (Wolff has endorsed Allen). But, he added, “she’s coming at it from a set of solutions that were baked-in before she started, and then she's fitting [those] into her campaign.”
Moira Birss, a senior fellow at the Climate and Community Institute who said she had “provided input” to Kim’s campaign, but wasn’t speaking on its behalf, told me she “really recognizes that we are yet again in a situation where the private insurance market is not responding to a need that we as communities and as society have for this financial safety net of disaster insurance, and that we need a public approach.” She said the plan would build on lessons learned from New Zealand, which has public natural disaster insurance funded through a levy on fire insurance, and from the National Flood Insurance Program and the FAIR Plan.
Kim is happy to embrace the more ideologically charged vision of her campaign, telling me, “I am talking about transforming this office to be a place where we are leading on, and taking on, economic inequity, a wealth gap, and the climate crisis.
“I don’t even view my opponent as Ben Allen — I’m not running against Ben Allen,” she went on. “I’m running against the status quo.”