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:
For the first time, the Energy Department is charting how to build new industries from scratch — and preserve America’s energy advantage.
The Biden administration took a major step forward on Tuesday to answering one of the biggest outstanding questions about its climate policy: So, uh, how are you planning on doing all this?
The answer took the form of a new series of reports, running to hundreds of pages in total, that provide the most detailed look yet at how now-experimental energy technologies can be rapidly scaled to meet the needs of the American economy. These reports, dubbed “the Pathways to Commercial Liftoff,” focus on three technologies that will be crucial to decarbonization: clean hydrogen, long-duration energy storage, and advanced nuclear reactors. Another report on capturing and storing carbon pollution is due soon.
The reports, which were written by 13 authors from across the Department of Energy, suggest that that agency has taken a more active role in carrying out the goals of the bipartisan infrastructure law and the Inflation Reduction Act, which together encompass most of President Biden’s legislative climate policy. The department says that it will update the reports every year, potentially creating a living library that will describe — in meticulous detail — the obstacles to creating a cleaner energy future.
“What we’re trying to provide is a sort of stake in the ground,” Melissa Klembara, an author of the report and the director of portfolio strategy at the Department of Energy’s office of clean-energy demonstrations, told me. “What is our vision? What does the private sector need to believe to co-invest? What is it going to take to achieve market lift-off?”
Perhaps above all, the documents underscore the scale — and the difficulty — of the task that the Biden administration has set for itself. The United States is trying to do something with little precedent. Over the next 10 years, the government will spend hundreds of billions of dollars in line with the bipartisan infrastructure law and the Inflation Reduction Act. This influx aims to transform the chemical substrate of the $23 trillion American economy. Today, the burning of fossil fuels — ancient sunlight rendered dense and combustible by time and geology — generates 79% of the country’s energy today; the Biden administration has committed to slashing that share by 2030 and essentially bringing it to zero by 2050.
It plans to do that through what has been widely termed “industrial strategy” — policy that aims to grow a specific part of the economy or develop a new type of technology. But what exactly the Biden administration’s strategy is has remained frustratingly vague. While much of the IRA’s spending will go to uncapped tax credits, the government is also tasked with making tens of billions of dollars of targeted investments to push sectors to decarbonize faster. (In hydrogen alone, for instance, the government can spend up to $25.8 billion on these investments.)
Where will those investments go? Scholars believe that successful industrial policy must generally be tailored to the needs of the industries in question: You can’t grow the telecommunications sector, for example, by building railroads and digging canals. Industrial policy, in other words, is about the specifics. So to spend that money well, policy makers must first get to know the industries they want to help — and then they must spot, in advance, the problems and bottlenecks that will prevent that industry from flourishing.
That’s what these reports are trying to do. They are the most detailed guide yet to how the Biden administration plans to conduct industrial policy for the most advanced — and the most fledgling — energy technologies in its arsenal.
Each of the technologies in the reports could be important in some way to fighting climate change: Nuclear reactors could provide a stable, always-on source of zero-carbon electricity; long-term energy storage will help the lights stay on when the sun isn’t shining and the wind isn’t blowing; and hydrogen will help decarbonize industrial activities — such as making steel, fertilizer, and chemicals; or powering cargo ships and long-haul trucks — that now depend on fossil fuels.
The reports were written after dozens of conversations with private companies and technical experts, Klembara said. The hydrogen report alone involved more than 60 discussions, about half of which were with “capital allocators” — companies, investment managers, and venture capitalists who will decide whether to invest in the sector.
“What we’re really trying to capture with these reports is, what is that common fact base so that we can have that dialogue with the private sector on the path to commercial liftoff,” she said. Then the government “can better understand, too, where [we] can leverage our investments to buy down those risks.”
These problems can be remarkably straightforward: They are the kind of oh-yes-that-seems-obvious issues that arise from starting an industry from scratch. In hydrogen, for instance, the report identifies two big up-and-coming problems: First, hydrogen producers still don’t have good ways to move or store hydrogen once they make it; second, a stable commodity market for hydrogen doesn’t exist. In other words, even if you make clean hydrogen, you won’t necessarily have anyone to sell it to, and even if you do, you might not have any way to get it to them cheaply. (The cost of moving hydrogen often equals the cost of producing it, the study finds.)
Those are problems that, by comparison, the natural-gas industry has solved: Gas drillers can rely on the country’s existing network of pipelines, trucks, storage tanks, and vast salt caverns to move and store gas to where it’s needed; and they can take their gas to the Henry Hub, a de facto national spot market in the fossil fuel, to sell it. If hydrogen is eventually to replace natural gas, it must develop its own version of these networks.
These reports also show how the government is thinking through its own role as a steward of economic growth.
In some ways, they show that the Biden administration — or at least the Energy Department — is becoming more comfortable with America’s distinctive approach to industrial policy. While industrial policy in other countries, such as Germany or Japan, tends to be led by the government or by government-aligned institutions, America has always relied more on the enthusiastic participation — or at least the begrudging acquiescence — of private companies. These reports detail what companies need in order to easily participate in the country’s clean-energy future. (That the consulting firm McKinsey & Co. — the ne plus ultra of American management advice — contributed to the report only drives home its country of origin.)
In that light, the reports are an argument that there’s still work to be done in these sectors — and that the government specifically needs to do it. In the past, American industrial policy hasn’t only relied on companies; it’s taken hold only when lawmakers and officials believed that the market has failed in some crucial way and that private companies cannot manage that failure. These reports — which, again, were written in consultation with the private sector — basically consist of the authors saying: Look at this market failure! Now look at this one! And this one! None of these problems will fix themselves.
But in other ways they may show something else — that America is finally learning how other countries conduct successful industrial policy and copying part of the playbook. As I’ve written before, industrial-policy agencies in Taiwan and South Korea play a key information-gathering role in their national economies: They focus economic activity not only by handing out funding or issuing regulations, but by publishing a common road map that all companies can work from. That’s what the government has done here — and by promising to update these reports on an annual basis, that’s what it’s seemingly going to do going forward.
And crucially, the Department of Energy is going to do the updating. That department has emerged as perhaps the lead actor of America’s industrial policy. That makes sense — it is the agency, after all, with the in-house bank, the national labs, and the technical expertise — but it wasn’t a given; the Environmental Protection Agency, the Department of Commerce, or even the Department of the Treasury might have stepped in. But at the same time, the agency’s new role — and its importance to the government — is somewhat unstable. If the current set of officials were to leave the Energy Department, it’s not clear to me that their replacements would take up these important government functions.
Finally, it’s just a recognition of how weird America’s task is. Although Biden’s economic and climate policies are often categorized as “industrial policy,” they really consist of two different things. In some sectors, such as solar-panel manufacturing, the United States is trying to catch up to China and other low-cost East Asian manufacturers. This is “classic” industrial policy, and it has a long history: Germany, Japan, and South Korea were each able to understand and then match America’s early dominance in making internal-combustion cars, for instance. But in other sectors, the United States is trying to do something subtler than catch up. In hydrogen production or advanced nuclear power, the United States is trying to retain its early technological advantage and turn its head start on R&D and basic science into a fully fledged domestic manufacturing industry that will generate hundreds of thousands of jobs. America isn’t trying to reach the bleeding edge of technology; it’s already there, and it’s trying to push that edge forward as quickly as possible.
That’s the challenge that these reports are responding to, Jonas Nahm, a professor of energy, resources, and environment at the Johns Hopkins School of Advanced International Studies, told me. “This is how you do industrial policy at the technological frontier,” he said. Now we’ll see if the government can follow through.
Editor’s note: A previous version of this article misstated a statistic about fossil fuel energy use. It has been corrected. We regret the error.
Log in
To continue reading, log in to your account.
Create a Free Account
To unlock more free articles, please create a free account.
It was a curious alliance from the start. On the one hand, Donald Trump, who made antipathy toward electric vehicles a core part of his meandering rants. On the other hand, Elon Musk, the man behind the world’s largest EV company, who nonetheless put all his weight, his millions of dollars, and the power of his social network behind the Trump campaign.
With Musk standing by his side on Election Day, Trump has once again secured the presidency. His reascendance sent shock waves through the automotive world, where companies that had been lurching toward electrification with varying levels of enthusiasm were left to wonder what happens now — and what benefits Tesla may reap from having hitched itself to the winning horse.
Certainly the federal government’s stated target of 50% of U.S. new car sales being electric by 2030 is toast, and many of the actions it took in pursuit of that goal are endangered. Although Trump has softened his rhetoric against EVs since becoming buddies with Musk, it’s hard to imagine a Trump administration with any kind of ambitious electrification goal.
During his first go-round as president, Trump attacked the state of California’s ability to set its own ambitious climate-focused rules for cars. No surprise there: Because of the size of the California car market, its regulations helped to drag the entire industry toward lower-emitting vehicles and, almost inevitably, EVs. If Trump changes course and doesn’t do the same thing this time, it’ll be because his new friend at Tesla supports those rules.
The biggest question hanging over electric vehicles, however, is the fate of the Biden administration’s signature achievements in climate and EV policy, particularly the Inflation Reduction Act’s $7,500 federal consumer tax credit for electric vehicles. A Trump administration looks poised to tear down whatever it can of its predecessor’s policy. Some analysts predict it’s unlikely the entire IRA will disappear, but concede Trump would try to kill off the incentives for electric vehicles however he can.
There’s no sugar-coating it: Without the federal incentives, the state of EVs looks somewhat bleak. Knocking $7,500 off the starting price is essential to negate the cost of manufacturing expensive lithium-ion batteries and making EVs cost-competitive with ordinary combustion cars. Consider a crucial model like the new Chevy Equinox EV: Counting the federal incentive, the most basic $35,000 model could come in under the starting price of a gasoline crossover like the Toyota RAV4. Without that benefit, buyers who want to go electric will have to pay a premium to do so — the thing that’s been holding back mass electrification all along.
Musk, during his honeymoon with Trump, boasted that Tesla doesn’t need the tax credits, as if daring the president-elect to kill off the incentives. On the one hand, this is obviously false. Visit Tesla’s website and you’ll see the simplest Model 3 listed for $29,990, but this is a mirage. Take away the $7,500 in incentives and $5,000 in claimed savings versus buying gasoline, and the car actually starts at about $43,000, much further out of reach for non-wealthy buyers.
What Musk really means is that his company doesn’t need the incentives nearly as bad as other automakers do. Ford is hemorrhaging billions of dollars as it struggles to make EVs profitably. GM’s big plan to go entirely electric depended heavily on federal support. As InsideEVsnotes, the likely outcome of a Trump offensive against EVs is that the legacy car brands, faced with an unpredictable electrification roadmap as America oscillates between presidents, scale back their plans and lean back into the easy profitably of big, gas-guzzling SUVs and trucks. Such an about-face could hand Tesla the kind of EV market dominance it enjoyed four or five years ago when it sold around 75% of all electric vehicles in America.
That’s tough news for the climate-conscious Americans who want an electric vehicle built by someone not named Elon Musk. Hundreds of thousands of people, myself included, bought a Tesla during the past five or six years because it was the most practical EV for their lifestyle, only to see the company’s figurehead shift his public persona from goofy troll to Trump acolyte. It’s not uncommon now, as Democrats distance themselves from Tesla, to see Model 3s adorned with bumper stickers like the “Anti-Elon Tesla Club,” as one on a car I followed last month proclaimed. Musk’s newest vehicle, the Cybertruck, is a rolling embodiment of the man’s brand, a vehicle purpose-built to repel anyone not part of his cult of personality.
In a world where this version of Tesla retakes control of the electric car market, it becomes harder to ditch gasoline without indirectly supporting Donald Trump, by either buying a Tesla or topping off at its Superchargers. Blue voters will have some options outside of Tesla — the industry has come too far to simply evaporate because of one election. But it’s also easy to see dispirited progressives throwing up their hands and buying another carbon-spewing Subaru.
Republicans are taking over some of the most powerful institutions for crafting climate policy on Earth.
When Republicans flipped the Senate, they took the keys to three critical energy and climate-focused committees.
These are among the most powerful institutions for crafting climate policy on Earth. The Senate plays the role of gatekeeper for important legislation, as it requires a supermajority to overcome the filibuster. Hence, it’s both where many promising climate bills from the House go to die, as well as where key administrators such as the heads of the Department of Energy and the Environmental Protection Agency are vetted and confirmed.
We’ll have to wait a bit for the Senate’s new committee chairs to be officially confirmed. But Jeff Navin, co-founder at the climate change-focused government affairs firm Boundary Stone Partners, told me that since selections are usually based on seniority, in many cases it’s already clear which Republicans are poised to lead under Trump and which Democrats will assume second-in-command (known as the ranking member). Here’s what we know so far.
This committee has been famously led by Joe Manchin, the former Democrat, now Independent senator from West Virginia, who will retire at the end of this legislative session. Energy and Natural Resources has a history of bipartisan collaboration and was integral in developing many of the key provisions in the Inflation Reduction Act — and could thus play a key role in dismantling them. Overall, the committee oversees the DOE, the Department of the Interior, the U.S. Forest Service, and the Federal Energy Regulatory Commission, so it’s no small deal that its next chairman will likely be Mike Lee, the ultra-conservative Republican from Utah. That’s assuming that the committee's current ranking member, John Barrasso of Wyoming, wins his bid for Republican Senate whip, which seems very likely.
Lee opposes federal ownership of public lands, setting himself up to butt heads with Martin Heinrich, the Democrat from New Mexico and likely the committee’s next ranking member. Lee has also said that solving climate change is simply a matter of having more babies, as “problems of human imagination are not solved by more laws, they’re solved by more humans.” As Navin told me, “We've had this kind of safe space where so-called quiet climate policy could get done in the margins. And it’s not clear that that's going to continue to exist with the new leadership.”
This committee is currently chaired by Democrat Tom Carper of Delaware, who is retiring after this term. Poised to take over is the Republican’s current ranking member, Shelley Moore Capito of West Virginia. She’s been a strong advocate for continued reliance on coal and natural gas power plants, while also carving out areas of bipartisan consensus on issues such as nuclear energy, carbon capture, and infrastructure projects during her tenure on the committee. The job of the Environment and Public Works committee is in the name: It oversees the EPA, writes key pieces of environmental legislation such as the Clean Air Act and Clean Water Act, and supervises public infrastructure projects such as highways, bridges, and dams.
Navin told me that many believe the new Democratic ranking member will be Sheldon Whitehouse of Rhode Island, although to do so, he would have to step down from his perch at the Senate Budget Committee, where he is currently chair. A tireless advocate of the climate cause, Whitehouse has worked on the Environment and Public Works committee for over 15 years, and lately seems to have had a relatively productive working relationship with Capito.
This subcommittee falls under the broader Senate Appropriations Committee and is responsible for allocating funding for the DOE, various water development projects, and various other agencies such as the Nuclear Regulatory Commission.
California’s Dianne Feinstein used to chair this subcommittee until her death last year, when Democrat Patty Murray of Washington took over. Navin told me that the subcommittee’s next leader will depend on how the game of “musical chairs” in the larger Appropriations Committee shakes out. Depending on their subcommittee preferences, the chair could end up being John Kennedy of Louisiana, outgoing Senate Minority Leader Mitch McConnell of Kentucky, or Lisa Murkowski of Alaska. It’s likewise hard to say who the top Democrat will be.
Inside a wild race sparked by a solar farm in Knox County, Ohio.
The most important climate election you’ve never heard of? Your local county commissioner.
County commissioners are usually the most powerful governing individuals in a county government. As officials closer to community-level planning than, say a sitting senator, commissioners wind up on the frontlines of grassroots opposition to renewables. And increasingly, property owners that may be personally impacted by solar or wind farms in their backyards are gunning for county commissioner positions on explicitly anti-development platforms.
Take the case of newly-elected Ohio county commissioner – and Christian social media lifestyle influencer – Drenda Keesee.
In March, Keesee beat fellow Republican Thom Collier in a primary to become a GOP nominee for a commissioner seat in Knox County, Ohio. Knox, a ruby red area with very few Democratic voters, is one of the hottest battlegrounds in the war over solar energy on prime farmland and one of the riskiest counties in the country for developers, according to Heatmap Pro’s database. But Collier had expressed openness to allowing new solar to be built on a case-by-case basis, while Keesee ran on a platform focused almost exclusively on blocking solar development. Collier ultimately placed third in the primary, behind Keesee and another anti-solar candidate placing second.
Fighting solar is a personal issue for Keesee (pronounced keh-see, like “messy”). She has aggressively fought Frasier Solar – a 120 megawatt solar project in the country proposed by Open Road Renewables – getting involved in organizing against the project and regularly attending state regulator hearings. Filings she submitted to the Ohio Power Siting Board state she owns a property at least somewhat adjacent to the proposed solar farm. Based on the sheer volume of those filings this is clearly her passion project – alongside preaching and comparing gay people to Hitler.
Yesterday I spoke to Collier who told me the Frasier Solar project motivated Keesee’s candidacy. He remembered first encountering her at a community meeting – “she verbally accosted me” – and that she “decided she’d run against me because [the solar farm] was going to be next to her house.” In his view, he lost the race because excitement and money combined to produce high anti-solar turnout in a kind of local government primary that ordinarily has low campaign spending and is quite quiet. Some of that funding and activity has been well documented.
“She did it right: tons of ground troops, people from her church, people she’s close with went door-to-door, and they put out lots of propaganda. She got them stirred up that we were going to take all the farmland and turn it into solar,” he said.
Collier’s takeaway from the race was that local commissioner races are particularly vulnerable to the sorts of disinformation, campaign spending and political attacks we’re used to seeing more often in races for higher offices at the state and federal level.
“Unfortunately it has become this,” he bemoaned, “fueled by people who have little to no knowledge of what we do or how we do it. If you stir up enough stuff and you cry out loud enough and put up enough misinformation, people will start to believe it.”
Races like these are happening elsewhere in Ohio and in other states like Georgia, where opposition to a battery plant mobilized Republican primaries. As the climate world digests the federal election results and tries to work backwards from there, perhaps at least some attention will refocus on local campaigns like these.