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To manage the clean energy transition, it may have to get into the leveraged buyout game.
The United States produces more natural gas and crude oil than any other country ― it isn’t even a contest. But these “molecules of U.S. freedom” aren’t free: They’re extracted and transported through a network of rigs, drills, pumps, and pipes that are, increasingly, controlled and operated by myriad private equity companies. As a society, we have a strong interest in winding down these climate-polluting assets in a swift yet orderly fashion. But as businesses, their private equity owners don’t.
Over the past decade, pressure from shareholders and activists has succeeded in pushing many fossil fuel majors to consider how best to reduce their emissions. (Although that, too, has come at a cost.) But rather than winding down or cleaning up their most polluting and least profitable assets, many have instead simply divested. Coal companies in West Virginia have sold off their mines to undercapitalized vulture firms, which rely on continued coal sales to (in theory) pay for expensive environmental remediation costs. The same is happening in the oil and gas industry, where private equity firms have rolled up many of the drilling sites and pipelines, the capillaries and veins of the country’s energy infrastructure.
Shielded from the scrutiny of public markets, private equity funds have thus become some of the country’s top methane emitters by asset ownership in the natural gas sector. These opaque owners, capitalizing on other companies’ disinterest in holding high-emitting assets, are betting that fossil fuel infrastructure will keep paying out for quite some time; recent massive increases in expected energy demand have only juiced this trend toward industry consolidation.
Private equity firms and private debt funds, with their short-term profit horizons, concealed balance sheets, and seeming imperviousness to tighter financial regulation and shareholder activism, work well with fossil fuel assets, particularly those sold at fire-sale prices by publicly traded fossil fuel majors. Despite those assets’ long-term market value instability, their near-term cash flow prospects are what matter.
But what’s been good for fossil fuel majors’ balance sheets has been bad for the planet. Many of these buyout firms — well-capitalized private equity funds and scrappy vulture funds, alike — are not budgeting anywhere near enough for environmental remediation. One company, Diversified Energy Co, has been purchasing the rights to operate almost-depleted natural gas wellheads at scale, extending many of their lifespans by decades; far too few wellheads are closed each year to stem the methane spewing unimpeded into the atmosphere.
Rather than accept a situation where utilities and fossil fuel majors toss their liabilities to unaccountable vulture funds, sustainability-conscious investors and shareholder groups have begun screening transactions for responsible asset phaseout plans. But the lack of a binding set of transition standards has revealed a huge coordination problem: What counts as a responsible phaseout, particularly when private asset owners get to decide? The federal government has put down guidelines, but not its foot. A disorganized drawdown of assets under a patchy regulatory framework, without a doubt, leaves vulnerable communities on the hook for the financial, environmental, and health damages.
Progressive analysts have long argued that nationalizing fossil fuel assets and folding them into a state holding company is the best solution to sidestep this particular problem. The federal government is well staffed with energy and electricity experts who, operating under a public mandate to preserve grid reliability, can phase out fossil fuel assets on a unified, coherent timeline responsive to community needs while continuing to operate those assets as the “peaker” or “reserve” capacity required to ensure grid stability. A series of climate shocks has even convinced conservative leaders in Texas of the importance of public power for grid resilience, achieved through state ownership of “peaker” gas plants. This course of action is far worse than investments in, say, battery capacity ― California, for instance, is now reaping the benefits of massive battery deployment, which reduces the state’s need for gas ― but the logic behind building public reserve capacity is sound.
What advocates of a state holding company-type model do not often discuss is how exactly a government goes about acquiring all these soon-to-be-stranded fossil fuel assets. As just one example, a recent proposal from the Roosevelt Institute suggests that a state holding company should be “free to engage in debt financing, make equity investments, and acquire assets.” Sure, proposals like these are meant to buttress the case for why nationalization is a far better way to achieve a managed phaseout than surrendering that process to yield-seeking investors, not to detail the financial mechanics of a buyout. But still: this is vague!
Actually thinking through the specifics suggests that, interestingly enough, a comprehensive state-led buyout program could work a lot like an existing private equity transaction, for two key reasons.
Before we get there, we should separate private equity’s deserved reputation as an opaque asset owner from the way the industry works. Private equity’s calling card, the “leveraged buyout,” is little more than the act of raising debt to 1) purchase equity in and, therefore, ownership over an asset, and 2) refinance the asset’s liabilities. To do so, private equity funds work with banks or, more commonly these days, private debt or private credit funds, to raise debt that is generally backed by the combined assets of the purchaser firm and purchased asset.
But leveraged buyouts themselves are technically something that any financial institution could do. Take the federal government, the country’s most liquid debt issuer, whose debt anchors the global economy and backstops private financial institutions. It could raise debt (leverage) to finance a buyout of fossil fuel assets at interest rates far lower than private investors could. And because private credit funds, like other institutional investors, already buy loads of government bonds to match their liabilities and hedge their risks, this kind of nationwide leveraged buyout ― which would require substantial new debt issuance ― could actually help stabilize the financial system against potential shocks from within notoriously inscrutable private markets. The government can do exactly what private equity does, only a lot better, and with wider benefits.
The government has already planted the seeds of a leveraged buyout program across the country’s coal ash heaps. The Loan Programs Office, thanks to the Bipartisan Infrastructure Law and the Inflation Reduction Act, now offers far-below-market-rate loan guarantees to developers, including state governments and utility companies, seeking to repurpose fossil fuel assets through its Energy Infrastructure Reinvestment program. This program’s authority allows borrowers to use their financing for “refinancing outstanding indebtedness directly associated with eligible Energy Infrastructure.” All policymakers have to do now is scrap the program’s 2026 end date and, ideally, endow a federal institution with the power to borrow from this authority to purchase and refinance fossil fuel assets, rather than leave that task solely in the hands of state governments and utilities, with their varying capacities for and interest in coordinating a coherent phaseout plan. And now that interest rates are poised to fall, this refinancing becomes much cheaper.
That’s reason number one. Reason number two has to do with private equity funds’ ability to shield the assets in their portfolio from valuation volatility on publicly traded stock markets. Private equity funds need not publicize how much their portfolios are worth, except at infrequent intervals and when they sell assets. But thanks to private equity’s reputation as a high-return investment, fund investors pay a premium for the illiquidity of not always knowing the value of their assets. Purchase assets, juice returns, sell, and repeat ― this is the conventional private equity playbook.
But macroeconomic conditions today are such that private equity companies are now struggling to sell their portfolios. High interest rates have made leveraged buyouts of new assets and refinancing debts on unsold assets much more costly, and have tempered rapid asset value growth. As this once-frenetic industry slows down, funds are anxious to get assets off their books ― hence the recent wave of consolidation.
This is an opportune moment for the Feds to step in. It’s not just that the government’s capacity for undertaking leveraged buyouts is the greatest; more importantly, it never needs to sell. The valuation volatility that first prompts fossil fuel majors to divest from dying, dangerous assets yet incentivizes private equity funds to pump as much as they can out of them to resell them later at a profit is simply not something the federal government needs to worry about. A state holdingcompany can siphon distressed assets off public markets and shut down the “merry-go-round” of asset sales and resales.
Objections to government intervention here are likely premised on the fact that, well, it’s the government. But the government would still be purchasing assets from private owners on financial markets, just like any market actor would. Today’s uncoordinated constellation of private fossil fuel firms and funds, on the other hand, cannot manage a coordinated phaseout, especially not under binding profitability constraints ― which the federal government does not share.
Local communities can’t finance phaseouts or cleanups themselves, and leaving hundreds of billions of dollars worth of stranded assets in the hands of under-regulated private firms will only accelerate climate catastrophe. The government must use the financial techniques that private equity funds have already pioneered to bring them to heel, in service of public goals.
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On the new Transportation secretary, California’s fires, and energy storage
Current conditions: Storm Herminia moved over Europe, bringing severe flooding to Spain and France • The air quality is low in Mumbai, where a panel is considering banning vehicles powered by gas or diesel • It’s chilly but sunny in Washington, D.C., where Robert F. Kennedy Jr. will face the Senate Finance Committee in his confirmation hearings to lead the Department of Health and Human Services.
A lot happened in Washington yesterday. Chaos erupted after the Office of Management and Budget dropped a two-page memo ordering a pause on federal grant programs that “advance[s] Marxist equity, transgenderism, and green new deal social engineering policies.” According to Heatmap’s Jael Holzman, the freeze targets programs including vast swathes of the federal government most relevant to the energy sector, from major Energy Department cleantech research offices and labs to all implementations of energy tax credits, including those in the Inflation Reduction Act. It also includes essentially all work at the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration, a Commerce Department subagency that produces climate science and weather forecasting. The order was set to take effect at 5 p.m. but a federal judge temporarily halted enforcement of it until a hearing on February 3.
Also yesterday, Sean Duffy was confirmed by the Senate as the new Transportation secretary. He wasted no time, signing an order to roll back former President Biden’s fuel economy standards aimed at reducing emissions. His memo said the standards “put coercive pressure on automakers to phase out production of various models of popular (internal combustion engine) vehicles.”
Human-caused climate change increased the likelihood of California’s wildfires by 35%, according to a rapid analysis from the World Weather Attribution. Warmer weather, drier conditions, and a longer fire season all supercharged the fires, the group said, making them not only more likely, but 6% more intense. It also found that the state’s dry season has gotten about 23 days longer, and the likelihood of no rainfall in the last three months of the year has doubled since pre-industrial years. “What makes [these fires] ever more dangerous, and what is something that the government of California alone can definitely not do anything about is human-induced climate change,” said WWA co-lead scientist Friederike Otto. “And drill, baby, drill will make this much, much worse.” The study hasn’t been peer-reviewed yet.
General Motors reported solid Q4 earnings for 2024 yesterday that beat expectations, but it’s the year ahead that investors are worried about. The automaker’s shares fell after the earnings call because analysts don’t think the company is prepared for potential policy changes under President Trump. “In our view, the guidance for 2025 leaves no room for errors, and also does not include impact from regulatory changes in the U.S., especially on tariffs and BEV support,” analysts at Bernstein said in a note. GM CEO Mary Barra said the company’s EV business was moving toward profitability. The Chevy Equinox EV saw an 85% quarterly increase in sales, and the GMC Hummer EV had its “best sales quarter ever.” Tesla will report its Q4 financial results this evening.
In other EV news, Volkswagen has reportedly canceled the U.S. rollout of the ID.7 electric sedan. We might have seen this coming. The company delayed the original rollout, which was slated for last May. Now, a company spokesperson toldAutomotive News the “ongoing challenging EV climate” in the U.S. was the reason for the decision to pull the plug.
The large trade group that calls itself “the voice of the solar industry” is calling for a major ramping up of U.S. energy storage by 2030. The Solar Energy Industries Association wants to see 10 million storage installations deployed by 2030 so the country can reach a total of 700 gigawatt-hours of installed storage capacity across the grid. For context, current installed storage capacity is an estimated 83 GWh, and there are about 500,000 storage installations. Current projections suggest the U.S. will have 450 GWh of storage capacity by 2030. The group calls on states, regional transmission organizations, and the federal government to speed things up, and offers some suggestions for how they might do that:
SEIA
Raised levels of heavy metals have been detected in the soil surrounding the Moss Landing Power Plant in California’s Monterey County, where a massive battery fire burned for five days earlier this month. KQED reported that scientists at San José State University’s Moss Landing Marine Laboratories found “a hundreds-fold rise” in toxic metals including nickel, manganese, and cobalt in the topsoil within a two mile radius of the plant. The findings contradict those of the Environmental Protection Agency, which said its air monitoring didn’t find any evidence of harmful toxins released from the fire. Residents near the plant have reported health problems like headaches, nosebleeds, and nausea in the weeks after the blaze. The metals detected are linked to long-term health problems including lung disease, cancer, and Parkinson’s disease.
The Doomsday Clock was updated yesterday. The Bulletin of the Atomic Scientists’ Science and Security Board moved it from 90 seconds to midnight to 89 seconds to midnight, “the closest the Clock has ever been to midnight in its 78-year history.”
Kayla Bartkowski/Getty Images
Among the many, many, many actions President Donald Trump took in his first week to curtail clean energy and climate policy in the U.S., he issued an order freezing all wind farm approvals. It’s anyone’s guess what happens next. On the one hand, we know the president hates wind energy — as he reiterated during his first post-inauguration interview on Fox News last week: “We don’t want windmills in this country.” But the posture is also at odds with Trump’s declaration of a national energy emergency and vision for “energy dominance.” Plus, it’s Trump. There’s a non-zero chance he’ll change his mind.
But let’s assume the wind leasing and permitting freeze stays in place for the next four years. Trump also plans to “conduct a comprehensive review of the ecological, economic, and environmental necessity of terminating or amending” existing leases, which could upheave projects already under construction or built. How do we make sense of what this all means for climate change?
First let’s look at what’s in the pipeline: If the pause on new leases and permits for offshore wind remains in place for the next four years, but all pre-approved projects get built, the U.S. could have about 13 gigawatts of offshore wind by 2030.
Three operating offshore wind projects currently send 174 megawatts of power to the U.S. grid. There are four projects under construction up and down the Atlantic, which are expected to generate about 5,021 megawatts once completed. Seven additional projects have all of their federal permits, and if built, could generate 7,730 megawatts. That’s a bigger “if” for some than others — three of the projects have not yet found anyone to buy their power.
13 gigawatts falls far short of a goal that the Biden administration set at the beginning of his presidency to deploy 30 gigawatts by 2030. But it was already becoming clear that the U.S. was going to miss that target. Last summer, the American Clean Power Association, which represents the offshore wind industry, projected that we were on track for about 14 gigawatts by that year, with 30 gigawatts achievable by 2033 and 40 gigawatts by 2035.
Cutting emissions sooner is, of course, better than later, but this doesn’t necessarily veer us off course for the longer-term goal of reaching net-zero emissions by 2050, either. One of the most comprehensive looks at how to decarbonize the grid is Princeton University’s Net Zero America report from 2021 (co-led by Jesse Jenkins, a co-host of Heatmap’s Shift Key podcast). The study models the economic development of carbon-free energy systems under a number of different scenarios in which energy demand grows more or less, and where renewable development is more or less constrained. Across all of them, offshore wind makes up less than 1% of the power system by 2030, with between 5 and 10 gigawatts deployed — numbers that may still be achievable. It then grows to between 1% and 7% of the system in 2050, with anywhere from 30 to 460 gigawatts deployed.
While the national picture looks okay, it’s a much bigger deal regionally. For population centers on the East Coast, which don’t have enough available land to build the onshore wind or solar resources necessary to decarbonize, offshore wind is a linchpin. When modelers try to decarbonize states like New York or New Jersey without offshore wind, they end up with lots of transmission capacity to deliver clean power from wind and solar farms all the way in the Midwest — a prospect that’s no less, and potentially much more politically fraught than offshore wind development. Unless other clean energy sources like nuclear or geothermal power become cheap and abundant, there’s no clear alternative path for a place like New York City to get to zero emissions.
State goals also become nearly impossible if no additional projects are able to get through the permitting process until at least 2029. New York State, for example, plans to deploy 9 gigawatts of offshore wind by 2035 so that it can achieve a carbon-free grid by 2040. It currently has just 1.8 gigawatts in the pipeline, with the potential for another 1.2 if Empire Wind 2 bids into the state’s next solicitation. Maryland’s goal is 8.5 gigawatts by 2031. It has just 1 gigawatt on the way. Massachusetts aims to procure 5.6 gigawatts by 2027. It has contracts for 3.4 gigawatts, but less than half are fully permitted.
Yet another way to think about the emissions consequences of this permitting pause is in terms of opportunity cost — the projects that will be delayed, assuming it lasts four years, and the lease areas that will go unsold.
The Biden administration held several offshore wind lease sales, and currently executed leases have the potential to generate more than 36 gigawatts, according to project development documents filed with the Bureau of Ocean Energy Management and federal estimates. But the projects planned for these lease areas are in various stages of development, and some of them, like plans for floating offshore turbines in California and Maine, have many technological hurdles to solve. A four-year pause will affect those far less than the 16 gigawatts’ worth of projects that have already started the federal permitting process.
The unsold areas represent a much bigger loss. The clean energy think tank Energy Innovation found that the U.S. has potential to build more than 1,000 gigawatts of “highly productive” offshore wind projects, meaning the wind is strong and constant enough to keep the turbines spinning more than half the time. We’ve leased less than 1% of that.
But by another measure, the opportunity cost for offshore wind might not be significant considering the trajectory we’ve been on. Every year the Rhodium Group, a clean energy research firm, models expected future technology deployment and its emissions implications based on existing policies and market conditions. The group’s 2024 report found that wind energy as a whole would reach 20% to 25% of U.S. electricity generation by 2035. Those estimates include just 9 gigawatts to 12 gigawatts of offshore wind, with the vast majority from onshore installations.
That brings us to the implications of pausing onshore wind development, which are arguably worse.
To date, the U.S. has installed about 152 gigawatts’ worth of land-based wind farms. Under the Net Zero America scenarios, that number should more than double by 2030. But deployment has slowed in recent years. The U.S. added just 6.4 gigawatts to the grid in 2023, down from 14.2 in 2020. While the 2024 totals haven’t been published, we were on track to add 7.1 gigawatts last year. We’d have to add more than three times that every year, starting this year, to meet the Net Zero America study’s 2030 projections.
Onshore wind deployment has been held back, in part, by transmission constraints. If the new administration clears hurdles to building more power lines, it could help speed things up. Also, since many onshore wind projects are built on private land, Trump’s order won’t have the same sweeping effect that it will offshore. But as my colleague Jael Holzman reported, the impact could still be far-reaching. More than half of all wind projects under development may be affected by the pause, as many are so tall that they need approvals from the Federal Aviation Administration. Energy-hungry projects like data centers may end up turning to natural gas, instead.
Trump’s executive order labels the pause of leasing and permitting as “temporary,” so all of this is still hypothetical. Perhaps a bigger existential threat to the industry would be if Congress decided to cut the tax credits for wind energy or wind them down earlier than currently planned to pay for the continuation of Trump’s 2017 tax cuts, many of which expire this year. But since the tax credits are now pooled together with other energy sources that Republicans support, like nuclear and geothermal, under "technology neutral” credits, that would be a lot harder to do.
Jesse and Heatmap deputy editor Jillian Goodman talk Canadian tariffs with Rory Johnston.
On February 1 — that is, three days from now — President Donald Trump has promised to apply a tariff of 25% to all U.S. imports from Canada and Mexico, crude oil very much not excepted. Canada has been the largest source of American crude imports for more than 20 years. More than that, the U.S. oil industry has come to depend on Canada’s thick, sulfurous oil to blend with America’s light, sweet domestic product to suit its highly specialized refineries. If that heavy, gunky stuff suddenly becomes a lot more expensive, so will U.S. oil refining.
Rory Johnston is an oil markets analyst in Toronto. He writes the Commodity Context newsletter, a data-driven look at oil markets and commodity flows. He’s also a lecturer at the University of Toronto’s Munk School of Global Affairs and Public Policy and a fellow with the Canadian Global Affairs Institute and the Payne Institute for Public Policy at the Colorado School of Mines. He previously led commodities market research at Scotiabank. (And he’s Canadian.)
On this week’s episode of Shift Key, Jesse and Jillian attempt to untangle the pile of spaghetti that is the U.S.-Canadian oil trade. Shift Key is hosted by Jesse Jenkins, a professor of energy systems engineering at Princeton University, and Jillian Goodman, Heatmap’s deputy editor. Robinson Meyer is off this week.
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Here is an excerpt from our conversation:
Jesse Jenkins: I want to come back to what would happen if Trump did impose these tariffs, but before we get there, I think it’d be helpful just to understand a little bit more about what life looks like on either side of the border.
You mentioned that Canada has become dependent on the U.S. market for export. My understanding is that the refineries in the Midwest — because they are now used to just using a single source of crude rather than, say, a coastal refinery that might have to be more flexible because they could get crude from Venezuela one day and from Saudi Arabia another day, or something with different qualities. My understanding is that the refineries in the Midwest have become pretty specialized and optimized around refining specifically Canadian crude. Is that correct? And if so, what, what are the features there? How challenging would it be for refiners to switch to other supply in the U.S. if all of a sudden Canadian crude becomes 25% more expensive?
Rory Johnston: Yeah, and you’re absolutely right. So — and I had mentioned earlier, that one aspect of this entrenched relationship is this physical infrastructure, and this other point is this business mode optimization around the specific blend of crude.
Now, for those that aren’t aware, crude oil is not one thing. It is an endless cornucopia soup of hydrocarbons that, generally, we can divide along a two-part axis. On the one hand you have gravity or density, or weight of the crude. And then the other side you have sulfur concentration. Sulfur concentration is always bad because, you know, sulfur’s bad — acid rain, we want to get rid of that. So that costs money to extract. And then the density or the gravity, we talk about this in API gravity. The U.S. crude, like shale crude — that’s often what we call light, tight oil — is often 40 degrees API gravity or higher. It’s very, very, very light. That’s lighter even than WTI, the benchmark itself, whereas Canadian Western Canada select, which is the kind of primary export blend of Canadian crude, is at 22 degrees gravity. Way, way, way, way heavier. One of the heaviest major marketed crudes in the world and the largest, heaviest, marketed grade in the world in terms of size of the particular flow.
So what happens is, well, when you look at the actual blend that is consumed by U.S. refineries, it’s not that they consume a heavy blend of crude. Their blended refinery slate is more of a medium grade. But they have so much light crude, particularly from areas like the North Dakota Bakken, that they need heavy crude to blend and get that kind of medium grade in the middle.
So — to your point, though — that needs to happen. And particularly if you want to, let’s say, keep consuming more U.S. domestic crude in the United States, then you need heavy crude to blend with it to meet those refinery specifications.
This episode of Shift Key is sponsored by …
Intersolar & Energy Storage North America is the premier U.S.-based conference and trade show focused on solar, energy storage, and EV charging infrastructure. To learn more, visit intersolar.us.
Music for Shift Key is by Adam Kromelow.