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Last time around they were bulwarks for climate action. This time is different.

This story is part of a Heatmap series on the “green freeze” under Trump.
Following Donald Trump’s election in November, climate advocates self-soothed with the conviction that cities and states would continue carrying the banner in the absence of federal climate action. That’s what happened during Trump’s first presidency, after all. When he pulled the U.S. out of the Paris Agreement in 2017, hundreds of local governments declared they were “still in” on climate, and a new wave of state and local climate policies swept the country.
By the time Biden stepped into the White House four years later, many of these communities had climate plans either in place or in progress. When his administration passed the Infrastructure Investment and Jobs Act and the Inflation Reduction Act, setting aside billions of dollars for emissions reduction and climate adaptation projects, they were in a prime position to apply for funding. By November 2024, with most of that money doled out, it was easy to imagine how climate-forward cities could forge ahead, seeded by grants, regardless of what Trump did.
Except then Trump did the thing that many assumed he would not — because he legally could not — do. He froze and is now trying to claw back congressionally appropriated, contractually obligated funds. And in so doing, he has thrown the prospects for cities as a last line of defense into question.
“In this administration, it’s a lot more chaotic,” Barbara Buffaloe, the mayor of Columbia, Missouri, told me. “There’s a lot more happening than I feel like there was in 2017, right at the get-go. Nobody knows what the universe is right now.”
Columbia was among those that joined the “still in” campaign in 2017. It adopted emissions reduction goals in 2018, and passed a climate action and adaptation plan in 2019. The Biden administration awarded the city more than $28 million across three separate federal grants to build electric vehicle charging stations, make electrical upgrades that would allow it to charge electric buses, and redesign its central business loop to be more walkable, bikeable, and safe.
All three of those grants are now up in the air. Buffaloe said she was told by state partners that the $2.1 million business loop planning grant from the Department of Transportation’s Reconnecting Communities program was paused. Columbia was the only city in Missouri to get a Charging and Fueling Infrastructure Grant from the DOT, with the $3.6 million supposed to help pay for EV chargers at the library and the airport. The city is moving ahead with initial activities like environmental reviews and preliminary engineering in the hope that funds to build the actual stations will be unfrozen by the time it’s ready to break ground. Regarding the $23 million bus infrastructure grant, part of a separate DOT program, she said the city hasn’t heard from its grant managers in about a month.
“We don’t know whether or not to continue on the projects,” she told me. “It’s that feeling of uncertainty and trepidation that is causing us the most anxiety. Our construction window is not year-round in Columbia, and because we’re a public institution, it takes a lot longer for us to put out bids and to start projects. We need to know if we have this budget or not.”
It’s not just the funding freeze leaving Columbia in a holding pattern. The city has a municipally-owned electric utility that had been looking to take advantage of “direct pay,” an option for nonprofit entities with no tax liability to collect federal renewable energy incentives as direct subsidies, to help it build more solar farms. But now Republicans in Congress are considering eliminating direct pay.
The funding freeze has put a lot of cities in this position where time-sensitive decisions are stalled. Hundreds of communities were awarded grants from the U.S. Department of Agriculture program to fund tree-planting for carbon mitigation and shade creation, for example. Some recipients have been told their grants were canceled altogether, others are still in the dark — their federal grant managers have been fired and no one is responding to their emails.
“They’re kind of at this point of, hey, do we put in the order for trees? We need to plant at certain times of the year,” Laura Jay, the deputy director of Climate Mayors, a national network of mayors working to address climate change, told me. “For a lot of these cities and programs, there’s key decisions that they have to be making, and when there’s uncertainty around it, it puts the city at a huge risk.” There’s financial risk, she said, in terms of spending money without knowing if it will get reimbursed, but also planning risks. A number of cities were awarded grants to purchase electric school buses, for example, and they need to make sure they are going to have enough to get kids to school.
As a larger, wealthier city, Columbia is in a better position than others. It collects revenue through a capital improvement tax that Buffaloe said could be used for climate projects. “We’ll do as much as we can,” she told me.
But in more rural areas, these grants represented a rare opportunity to modernize and build more equitable access to infrastructure.
“We’re in Southeast Ohio, which traditionally has been left behind when it comes to larger infrastructure projects,” Andrew Chiki, the deputy service-safety director in Athens, Ohio, told me. “We don’t have an interstate highway.”
Chiki helped lead a regional effort to apply for a Charging and Fueling Infrastructure Grant, the same program Columbia won funding from that is now frozen. He and his partners were awarded $12.5 million to build a corridor of electric vehicle chargers in 16 communities between Athens and Dayton. “One of our attempts with this was to answer the question, if EV adoption takes off the way that we are envisioning, how do we allow an on-ramp for communities that are already disadvantaged to be able to adopt?”
Chiki said they were still waiting to hear whether they could move forward with the project or not. Athens passed a resolution declaring a climate emergency in 2020, and adopted a target to reduce emissions by 50% over 10 years. The city has made some strides, Chiki said, by making buildings more energy efficient and installing solar on city-owned facilities. “We are still committed to doing as much as we can,” he told me.
But if the EV charging grant falls through, the smaller villages and towns between Athens and Dayton that don’t have the staff resources or capacity to apply for these types of grants will lose out, he said. “We would probably look at other types of funding sources, but it would make it incredibly difficult and not be nearly as broad as we want.”
There are some pots of money for local climate projects that have flown under the Trump administration’s radar. Last year, the South Florida ClimateReady Tech Hub, a consortium of local governments, schools, labor groups, and companies working to accelerate the development of climate technologies, won a $19.5 million grant from the Department of Commerce’s Economic Development Administration. The money came from the Biden-era CHIPS and Science Act, a law that Trump is pushing Congress to scrap but that Republicans have thus far defended. Tech Hub will use the funds to scale low-emissions cement that can be used for adaptation projects, energy efficiency, and workforce development, among other things.
Francesca Covey, the chief innovation and economic development officer for Miami-Dade County and regional innovation officer for the Tech Hub, told me the group has continued to have quarterly check-ins with federal partners and haven’t gotten any signal that the funding is in jeopardy. “It’s really been more business as usual,” she said. Covey also mentioned two pilot projects to build artificial reefs and seawalls in the area that had funding from the Department of Defense and were moving forward.
Still, the Tech Hub has adjusted its language to stay competitive in the new political environment. The group changed its name to the Risk and Resilience Tech Hub two weeks ago, Covey told me. “We wanted to underscore the economic imperative of the work,” she said, when I asked what motivated the name change. “Right now we’re finding that where we are getting the best traction with the private and public community is around risk. We wanted to make sure we were couching it in the right way.”
Ithaca, New York, on the other hand, which passed its own Green New Deal in 2019, is committed to its climate and equity-centric messaging. “We are not intending to change the narrative around what we’re doing,” Rebecca Evans, the city’s sustainability director, told me. “It’s still clean energy, and it is still because climate change is a threat to human existence. We are still going to prioritize black and brown populations and populations that experience poverty at various levels because they are most vulnerable to climate change.”
About 85% of Evans’ Green New Deal budget comes from federal sources, and at first she worried that was all at risk. In 2022 and 2023, Ithaca had received funding from what’s called “congressional directed spending,” or “earmarks,” in two federal appropriations bills, meaning that New York state lawmakers fought to get money set aside for the city. The first grant, worth $1 million, was for a hydrogen production and fueling project. The second, worth $1.5 million, was for a wide-ranging program to decarbonize the school system and enhance a local workforce development program to include new energy efficiency certifications. Both programs included explicit diversity, equity, and inclusion-related objectives, so Evans assumed they would be targeted by the Trump administration.
But on Tuesday, she was told by federal partners on the hydrogen grant that congressionally directed spending was not subject to Trump’s executive orders and got the greenlight to move into the next phase. Evans still hasn’t heard back from her federal partners on the second grant, but she’s more hopeful now that it will move forward.
Back when I first spoke to Evans, when things were more up in the air, she told me she worried that the Trump administration’s actions would cause advocates to lose hope. “I think anger can be a positive thing, but it’s the loss of hope, even if it’s marginal, that is truly, truly dangerous to this movement.”
Perhaps that’s why Evans, like all of the other local leaders I spoke with, projected optimism when I asked what they could accomplish over the next four years without federal support. She was already trying to find the money elsewhere, she said. “We can’t do all of the amazing things that we wanted to do, but we can still make progress,” she said.
“Cities are incredibly nimble and innovative,” Jay, of Climate Mayors, told me. “I think that they’re eager to and committed to keeping the work going. What that looks like, I think, is hard to figure out right now, because everyone’s kind of caught in the chaos of trying to figure out if they still have this funding or not. But they’re fully committed to making sure that this work is continuing.”
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On solar manufacturing, New England gas, and Pacific Northwest geothermal
Current conditions: The Pacific just can’t catch a break this hurricane season as forecasters warn that a new tropical development called Invest 96E could form in the next two days off Baja California, right behind Hurricane Lowell • In Indonesia, the wildfires blazing through the peatlands and forests of Borneo and Sumatra are now emitting by far the most carbon dioxide of any blazes in the world • A late-summer heat wave is sending temperatures along the California coastline beyond 100 degrees Fahrenheit this week.
When Alphabet inked its first nuclear deal in 2024, the Google parent company opted to back a next-generation, fluoride salt-cooled reactor startup called Kairos Power. Six months later, the tech behemoth contracted Elementl Power, a nuclear project developer that works with all kinds of reactors, to scout locations for deploying novel atomic technologies. Last October, Google broadened its approach to focus on large-scale reactors that either already existed or were under development. The company eyed financing the construction of the abandoned Westinghouse AP1000s planned for the V.C. Summer plant in South Carolina before the project went under nearly a decade ago. Then Google and NextEra began laying the groundwork to restart the Duane Arnold nuclear station, Iowa’s only such plant, which shut down in 2020. As I told you on Tuesday, that latter deal took a major step forward when the Department of Energy pledged $1.9 billion toward bringing the single 615-megawatt reactor back online.
Now Google is exporting its strategy to Europe. On Wednesday, the giant announced a 22-year power purchase agreement with the Finnish utility Fortum Oyj to extend the life of the Loviisa nuclear station by buying as much as 50% of its electricity from 2030 to 2049. The contract — the first of its kind in Europe to provide for direct power purchases between a specific power plant and a hyperscaler — starts in 2028.
The deal is part of a broader $15.1 billion investment into artificial intelligence infrastructure throughout Finland over the next two years, and will direct roughly $1.1 billion toward the plant’s relicensing. “Long-term partnerships like the one between Fortum and Google are essential to making that happen, especially in today’s uncertain market environment characterized by low visibility and highly volatile electricity prices,” Fortum CEO Markus Rauramo said in a statement. In a text message last night, Emmet Penney, the director of energy and infrastructure at the Foundation for American Innovation, told me it was once “fashionable to say that nuclear was dead in the West, that we could only look on as nuclear slouched toward its demise and irrelevance.” Now, however, “Google is doing the world a favor by showing why and how that view was wrong” by demonstrating willingness to put its money where its mouth is to expand the power supply, he said. “Some things are fads, but nuclear is never out of season.”
Global investments in manufacturing clean technology fell 14% in the first quarter of 2026 and another 7% in the second three-month window, according to an analysis by the Rhodium Group’s Clean Investment Monitor released Thursday of the first half of this year. For the first time, China’s share of green manufacturing investments dipped below a third, marking a significant decline from its peak of over 71% in 2023. A major drop in the expansion of solar panel factories accounted for much of the slowdown. Investments in new factories fell by 83% in the second quarter of 2026 compared to the peak in the last three months of 2023. China accounted for 94% of the decline. But China’s contraction came with expansion elsewhere. India, for example, saw solar factory investments accelerate from 5% to 48%, making it the largest net contributor for the past four quarters. Solar manufacturing is expanding in the U.S., and the Department of Commerce’s new import duties on the polysilicon needed to make most panel components should help that continue. But the overall picture for clean energy investment, as my colleague Emily Pontecorvo described in the spring, is mixed.
There are green shoots, however. While the amount of capital spent on construction of new manufacturing and industrial plants slowed, the value of such investments rose 10% in the first quarter of this year and held steady in the second quarter, breaking a 10-quarter streak of declines in announced investments. The bulk of the deals were in critical minerals, wind, sustainable aviation fuel, batteries, and — yes — solar. But there’s also more coal. On Thursday morning, the International Energy Agency forecast global coal demand to reach a record high of nearly 9 billion metric tons this year.
The U.S. has enough solar panels in operation today to power more than 50 million American homes, representing over a third of households. That’s according to the latest market analysis conducted by the consultancy Wood Mackenzie on behalf of the Solar Energy Industries Association and released early this morning. Solar developers added 11.4 gigawatts of generating capacity in the second quarter of 2026, a 45% increase from the same period last year and 43% increase from the first three months of this year. Most of that new capacity came from utility-scale projects, which added 9.6 gigawatts — a 61% year-over-year leap. “Solar and storage have grown to a scale most Americans have yet to fully realize and we simply can’t meet America’s growing energy needs without these technologies,” Tim Pawlenty, the chief executive of the solar industry’s leading trade group, said in a statement.
It’s a milestone for solar’s expansion, and highlights the competitiveness of the technology despite the Trump administration’s crackdown on renewables it criticizes as too weather dependent. But it’s only a description of capacity. It’s virtually impossible for all the solar panels in the country to produce power at the same time, and the swings in electricity production are ultimately what draw criticism from those who instead push for generating stations that can pump out power at all times of day. That, in my view, makes the most important signal in the report the speed of the growth, demonstrating how quickly solar can come online and serve surging demand.
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Yesterday I told you that a federal court overturned the water permits New Jersey issued for construction of a pipeline to carry more natural gas into the Northeast, delivering a blow to the pipeline push the region is gearing up for as winter energy demands increasingly become what my colleague Matthew Zeitlin described bluntly last year as “a problem.” But there’s some good news, via the latest analysis from the U.S. Energy Information Administration. Enough cheap gas is flowing into New England at a moment when consumption is relatively low to push down prices. Natural gas prices at Algonquin Citygate, a trading and pricing hub in Boston that averages out what New England is paying for the fuel, are now trading at a discount compared to the main U.S. benchmark, the Henry Hub. Prices at Algonquin Citygate averaged 43 cents per million British thermal units less than Henry Hub from April through July. Part of the price drop came from a drop in demand as home heating fell off during the summer and solar generation increased during longer sunny days. Increased supply from Appalachia was another factor, as was a spike in imports from Canada.
Emissions of greenhouse gases from fossil fuels and agriculture are widely recognized as the primary drivers behind rising global temperatures. But scientists have long warned that, as the planet grows hotter, natural feedback loops will begin to pump more emissions into the atmosphere, from methane seeping out from decaying ancient material in thawing permafrost or carbon dioxide spewing from infernos like those scorching Indonesia’s biggest islands. A new study suggests that those warming-induced greenhouse gases from natural sources could amplify global warming by 20% to 30% this century, adding as much 0.4 degrees Celsius to the global temperature average. The authors of the study, published early Thursday morning in the journal Environmental Research Letters, billed it as the largest effort to date to quantify the combined impact of carbon dioxide and methane from permafrost thaw, wildfires, wetlands, and inland waterways. Permafrost thaw, however, comprises roughly half the projected emissions. The authors came from Stanford University, Woodwell Climate Research Center, research nonprofit Spark Climate Solutions, and the advocacy group Environmental Defense Fund. Even if emissions from human activities reached net zero, greenhouse gases could create feedback loops that raise global temperatures by at least 0.2 degrees Celsius by 2100. A higher emissions scenario could be twice that much warming.
“The results are a wake-up call, and it’s imperative that they be included in the next generation of climate policies,” Robert Jackson, the Stanford University professor and chair of the Global Carbon Project who co-authored the paper, said in a statement.
The Pacific Northwest is poised for a big geothermal push. Hexagon Energy, an independent energy developer, and timber and wood giant Weyerhaeuser Company just inked a strategic partnership that will clear the way for geothermal projects across the latter company’s vast property portfolio in Oregon and Washington. “Geothermal energy represents an emerging opportunity to provide clean and reliable, around-the-clock power, and our ownership presents a unique platform to evaluate that potential in the Pacific Northwest,” Kendall Fountain, Weyerhaeuser’s vice president of energy and natural resources, said in a statement. Once built, the projects are expected to generate up to 3 gigawatts of power.
A new paper from Energy Innovation and GridLab lays out some options for Governor Gavin Newsom — or whoever comes next.
California’s continued progress on climate change may depend on whether the state can find a way to bring down its high electricity rates, which hurt the economics of cleaner technologies like electric vehicles and heat pumps and make climate action more politically difficult.
Ahead of the upcoming governor’s race, the clean energy research firms Energy Innovation and GridLab convened a group of more than 20 local electricity experts to develop a policy roadmap for the state’s next administration to reduce energy costs. They published the findings on Thursday, describing a number of opportunities for policymakers to better manage utility spending and more fairly allocate costs among utilities, residents, and communities.
“There is so much work to be done to correct for and address the underlying forces that have led to consistent rate increases over the last 25 years,” Mike O’Boyle, the senior director for policy and strategy at Energy Innovation, told me. There are also no quick fixes, he added. Instead, the report offers directional solutions rather than specific policy proposals, recognizing that it will take years of sustained leadership to make progress.
By far the most significant force driving California’s high rates, especially over the past decade, is the cost of responding to and preventing catastrophic wildfires. The state Public Advocate’s office recently found that the wildfire-related share of the average customer’s bill is 14% to 19%, or $21 to $41 per month.
Just before the Labor Day weekend, Governor Gavin Newsom faced a showdown with the legislature over his proposal for how to reallocate wildfire liability. For weeks, Newsom had been pushing lawmakers for a package that would reduce the amount of money utilities would be on the hook for after their equipment sparks a wildfire. One of his priorities was to outlaw subjugation, a mechanism by which insurance companies sue utilities to recover the cost of paying out wildfire claims. Newsom was responding to pleas from utilities warning that their credit would be downgraded unless the state reduced their share of the risk. Lower credit ratings would mean increased borrowing costs and, ultimately, higher electricity rates.
The full details of Newsom’s package were never released to the public, but it saw major pushback from insurance companies and victims groups who framed it as a "utility bailout.” Eventually, with just a few days left on the legislative calendar, the governor and legislature put out a compromise bill. It did nothing on subrogation, but it would have blocked hedge funds from buying up and reaping profits from insurance claims, and blocked bonuses for C-suite utility officers when the company sparks a fire.
Despite the supposed compromise, the bill died on the floor of the Assembly. Speaker Robert Rivas said it “does not yet deliver the relief, accountability or meaningful reform that Californians deserve” and vowed to go back to work to “deliver real results.”
Lawmakers may have been convinced by the market’s quick reaction to the bill. The Monday after it was released, California utility PG&E’s stock dropped 20%, while Edison International, which owns Southern California Edison, saw a drop of 23%. Last Wednesday, after the deal had fallen apart, PG&E announced that it would defer $2 billion in capital spending for the next year. In a pre-recorded video, the company’s CEO Patti Poppe discussed how far the company has come since its 2019 bankruptcy, praising its recent track record of no ignitions and innovative investments in grid modernization, but said it was “unable to fund the continued transformation at our current pace. When risks go up, lenders charge more.”
The issue Newsom was trying to address stems from the fact that California assigns full liability to utilities when their equipment sparks a wildfire, regardless of whether the incident was the result of negligence. That’s only one part of the problem, however. The other is that the state leans heavily on utilities to do the majority of its wildfire prevention work, rather than spreading out the responsibility across a broader array of residents and communities. The liability policy also amplifies the second issue, as it creates a perverse incentive for utilities and their regulators to try to reduce the risk of sparking a fire to as close to zero as possible, no matter the cost.
Electricity ratepayers cover both the liability utilities face after a fire as well as the cost of all of that risk reduction — but they spend far more on the latter. Between 2019 and 2024, utility regulators authorized the state’s three private electric companies to recover $40 billion in wildfire-related costs from its ratepayers. Just a third were liability-related costs, such as insurance premiums and payments into a fund utilities can draw on to cover settlements with victims. The rest was mitigation.
The Energy Innovation and GridLab report puts aside thorny questions about wildfire liability and focuses on addressing this mitigation side of the issue with three overarching recommendations.
First, California needs a better way to evaluate the cost-effectiveness of different types of wildfire mitigation. Part of the issue is that when a utility says it needs to spend $200 million on tree trimming in Lake Tahoe, for example, regulators don’t have the tools to assess whether there’s a more cost effective alternative. Maybe $100 million on tree trimming with another $20 million for other kinds of community hardening would provide the same amount of risk reduction.
Second, the state could better leverage public finance, for example by expanding the use of ratepayer-backed bonds to pay for wildfire mitigation. California started down this path in a big utility package passed last year, authorizing utilities to borrow $6 billion from ratepayers through 2035 — a lower-cost form of finance than investor equity. Utilities are spending $9 billion per year on wildfires, however, so that measure was a drop in the bucket.
Third, the state should more equitably spread the responsibility of mitigating wildfire risks, re-allocating some costs from ratepayers to taxpayers and at-risk communities. Utilities spend $9 billion a year on wildfire-related costs, but the state’s Department of Forestry and Fire Protection’s most recent mitigation budget was just $440 million. “The reality is that the status quo of ratepayers paying for all this is untenable,” O’Boyle said. Utility-led mitigation focuses on preventing ignitions, but it doesn’t address factors unrelated to electric infrastructure that can worsen a blaze, such as overgrown forests, development near wildlands, and brush surrounding homes.
While the fracas around Newsom’s compromise package focused on the liability aspects, the bill would have also taken small steps toward some of these recommendations. It required CalFIRE to develop standards for wildfire risk reporting data and incorporate them into community risk reduction metrics — a move toward better evaluations of the most cost-effective measures.
It also would have required the state’s Natural Resources Agency to create a comprehensive statewide community wildfire preparedness strategy, provide support for counties to develop protection plans that align with the strategy, and base state support on communities’ annual progress updates.
We’ll see if any of that gets salvaged. While the legislative session is officially over, Newsom could still call a special session to get a wildfire bill done this year.
This is what we’re tracking in energy and climate over the next four months — and beyond.
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.
We’re in the last third of 2026. In yesterday’s newsletter, I looked at the biggest planned upcoming events in climate and energy policy that we’re tracking at Heatmap for the rest of this year.
Today, I want to look at some of the biggest questions that I’m pondering for the rest of the year.
What will the AI backlash mean for data centers and energy demand?
In just the past 24 hours, existential concerns about artificial intelligence has gone mainstream. Even though AI engineers have warned that the technology could trigger some kind of mass fatality event — or even human extinction — for years, the resignation of Sam Coxon from Anthropic seems to have broken through into a new tier of public awareness. “We really do earnestly believe AI could kill all humans! I personally think it is >10% within the next decade,” Evan Hubinger, an Anthropic employee, posted on X after Coxon’s resignation broke.
It’s unscientific, but I’ve seen more celebrity Instagram posts, vertical videos, and concerned messages from friends about AI doom in the past day than I have in weeks. Senator Bernie Sanders is now holding a bipartisan meeting next week to discuss the “extraordinary dangers” posed by AI, according to Axios.
We already know that the public detests AI data centers. But so far the data center story has been somewhat severable from the AI story — voters, politicians, and journalists could talk about the AI infrastructure buildout separately from the tales of, say, AI allegedly solving century-old math problems. Will that remain the case? Or will the two stories merge? If that happens, will politicians and AI safety experts start to encourage (or even empower) the data center backlash because it might slow down AI’s overall development? What will that mean for the politics of infrastructure, electrification, and load growth — and will it cut greenhouse gas emissions?
What will happen in Iran, how high can oil go, and what will it mean for the energy system?
President Donald Trump has never been “looking for long term” in Iran, yet his war continues to drag on without an obvious or easy resolution. It has dragged energy prices up with it.
The global crude benchmark has now edged above $100. Gasoline costs more than $4.20 a gallon on average in the United States (and far more in Europe), and diesel is even more expensive. According to an ongoing estimate from Brown University researchers, the war has now cost Americans more than $100 billion due to energy inflation since it began. Hostilities have seemed to intensify in the past few days; Iran fired missiles at U.S. Navy ships and the United States responded by destroying oil tankers.
This has been generally bad for European economies, which are to some degree still recovering from the triple shock of Covid, energy inflation from Russia’s invasion of Ukraine, and China’s ongoing export boom. At the same time, the Iran war has broadly vindicated China’s energy strategy, which has used electrified technology, strategic stockpiling, and a coal, solar, and battery-dependent power grid to reduce economic dependence on seaborne liquid fuels. (China’s greenhouse gas emissions actually fell in the second quarter because of a drop in the country’s oil consumption.)
The most urgent question here, of course, is whether President Trump will find a way to end the war that he began earlier this year — and how expensive oil and liquified natural gas will get in the interim.
But an end to the war will trigger another set of questions about what this energy shock will mean for energy, climate, and industrial policy going forward. Shocks like these tend to dominate national strategy for years or decades after they happen; Thailand’s government announced last month that it’s backing off LNG imports in favor of renewables. Will we start to see a wider set of countries do the same? Will more countries build strategic oil stockpiles, driving up oil demand in the short term? And will more middle- and low-income countries embrace Chinese-made electric cars in the name of boosting energy security and cutting their oil dependence?
Will the U.S. get bipartisan permitting reform?
The most important political question this year — if you are a normal person — is whether Democrats will take over the House of Representatives and even the Senate in the upcoming midterm election. But we aren’t normal people here at Heatmap. And the midterm elections will, for us, only commence the year’s most interesting political moment.
Right now, lawmakers from both parties say they are trying to reach a deal on bipartisan permitting reform. Such a bill would make it easier to build transmission lines, renewable energy, and some fossil fuel infrastructure, as well as presumably restraining the president’s extralegal war on solar and wind. It could even make it easier for the government to build public infrastructure of all sorts.
We haven’t seen the text of such a deal yet — although my Shift Key interview with Daniel Palken, a permitting expert at Arnold Ventures, offers a lot of clues to its potential content. So it remains an open question whether lawmakers can reach a deal in November and shepherd it through a lame-duck Congress before the end of the year.
If they can, it could enable a future president to conduct a faster and more aggressive clean energy or infrastructure buildout than was previously imaginable. If they can’t, then it will be hard to imagine when such a deal might ever come together, as it has failed to congeal under almost every partisan combination of a president and Congress.
Will 2026 be the hottest year ever?
Back in the spring, climate scientists assigned low odds to the probability that 2026 would become the hottest year ever measured. Since then, though, a monstrous El Niño has clawed out of the Pacific Ocean, nudging up global temperatures and contributing to America’s record-breaking summer.
2026 now has a greater than 33% chance of eclipsing 2024’s hottest-year-on-record title, according to a late July estimate from Carbon Brief; the odds have probably risen further since then. Either way, 2026 will probably come in about 1.5 degrees Celsius warmer than the pre-industrial average — and 2027 is very likely to be even hotter.
Are we entering a post-Trump, post-2010s energy and climate era — and what will it look like?
President Donald Trump is about as unpopular as he has ever been, and on a range of issues, he seems to be losing touch with the American public. Simply by dint of being the country’s most prominent political figure for most of the past 10 years, he has become an establishment politician. He now champions AI, data centers, and the Iran War, for instance, while Americans seem skeptical of all three (at best).
In the next several months, these trends are all likely to intensify: Trump is likely to lose control of Congress — at least according to the polls and the betting markets — and a new presidential election will begin, one in which he will probably not be running.
Which isn’t to say that Trump will lose his grip on the Republican Party or its voters — nor that his actions in the coming years will be lawful, or even Constitutional. But nevertheless if you squint, you can begin to imagine what a post-Trump political era might look like, and it is quite different from the epoch that we have just lived through. It is an era where voters will likely be more worried about inflation and the cost of living than unemployment and economic growth. It is an era where Democrats will be looking to play up economic populism and where the federal deficit might matter again. It is an era where Millennials will be in their prime earning years, where politicians will fear a backlash to industrial policy and infrastructure buildout, and where America’s role in the world will remain unsettled.
It is, in short, not at all like the era that gave us the Green New Deal or the other energy and climate policy of the early 2020s; even if a recession hits and employment becomes a major concern once again, then the resulting political environment might look more like 1992 (or even 1937) than 2008. We are, in short, entering a new era — one we’re excited to watch, develop, and cover here at Heatmap.