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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 holding company 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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Even though he is partially responsible for them.
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.
Welcome to August — which, as the political commentator Josh Barro once observed, is the year’s “stupidest news month.” Because Congress goes on recess around this time of year, and so many other Americans go on vacation, “the quantity of serious news structurally declines,” and we journalists have to turn to sillier stories in order to fill the space.
I couldn’t help but think of that post today. As my colleague Matthew Zeitlin covered last week, oil companies recently had a blowout quarter. Last week, Chevron reported its best quarterly earnings result ever, while Exxon announced its largest profit in four years. None of this was a surprise: The Iran war and the Strait of Hormuz’s closure sent oil prices soaring around the world in the spring, making the supermajors’ domestic refinery business especially profitable. Despite its big result, Exxon actually underperformed Wall Street’s expectations — that’s how expected all of this was.
Still, though — the oil companies benefited from a supply shock that was hurting everyone else in the economy. Although this kind of volatility is part and parcel of the commodities business — it is part of what makes commodities so enticing to investors — it is, at the very least, not a good look. And in times like these, progressive policymakers will sometimes call for a windfall profits tax, a one-time levy on large and unexpected profits arising from a situation outside a company’s control. (Centrists and conservatives tend to prefer making different reforms to the tax system that tax “supernormal” profits.)
The United States last imposed a windfall profits tax on oil companies in the 1970s, but other countries still use them today: The U.K. implemented one after Russia’s invasion of Ukraine drove up gas prices in 2022, as did a handful of European countries. More recently, Senator Sheldon Whitehouse of Rhode Island and Representative Ro Khanna of California proposed a windfall tax after gasoline prices shot up in March.
I wouldn’t have counted President Trump among Whitehouse’s and Khanna’s number. Yet speaking to reporters from the Oval Office today, Trump said the oil companies were “making too much money” from the Strait of Hormuz closure.
“Chevron, too much money. ExxonMobil, too much money,” the president said. “When you look at one company where they made 12 times what they made the year before, they ought to give some of that back to the public … And they better cut the retail price, the consumer price.”
He noted that many reporters looked “surprised” he was saying it, but reiterated he “wasn’t happy.”
Now, the president hasn’t quite called for a windfall profits tax — he seems to have something more voluntary in mind. Yet given Trump’s fealty to the industry in virtually every other context, his comments are striking and make his political judgement around the war all the more perplexing. The president chose to go to war with Iran — and the almost certain outcome of that conflict, in any world, was going to be higher oil prices. If anything, the war has moved crude less than analysts would have thought. What was Trump expecting here?
I don’t expect these remarks to usher in some new era of Trumpian policy or politics — this is probably just another silly August story. But they reflect how much the politics of energy have changed since President Trump took office in January 2025. Americans know it, Democrats know it, and President Trump knows it too.
Data centers are a big test for the nascent industry. But they also can’t fill the orderbooks.
For the last few years, there’s been just one story dominating the economy, Silicon Valley, and much of the climate tech world too: artificial intelligence. It has consumed investor’s time and money, leaving relatively little for the rest of the startup ecosystem. But for companies that can hitch themselves to the AI boom and tie their value proposition to the data center buildout, this narrow funding focus can be a tailwind.
The most obvious beneficiaries so far have largely fallen into two camps: startups using AI to build cheaper, better products or those developing technologies to cleanly power data centers themselves. But what about the companies actually manufacturing the physical materials behind these facilities? The data center buildout is ultimately an investment in the physical economy, which largely means an investment in concrete — the most widely used man-made material on Earth.
Cement, the key ingredient that binds concrete together, accounts for 8% of global CO2 emissions, and is a major driver of hyperscaler’s scope 3 emissions. Microsoft and Google’s recent sustainability reports, for example, reveal that their largest emissions category isn’t electricity but “capital goods,” which includes the embodied carbon in their physical assets and infrastructure such as the concrete, steel, server racks, and silicon used to build data centers.
Cement is a big part of that picture because producing it typically requires burning limestone in kilns at extremely high temperatures, a process that both uses large amounts of fossil fuels and releases CO2 through the underlying chemical reaction itself. So if hyperscalers are serious about decarbonization, one might expect them to be pretty interested in startups such as Brimstone, Sublime Systems, and Fortera, each of which is pursuing a different approach to reducing cement’s carbon footprint.
And they are interested. But that alone won’t fill these company’s orderbooks or offset the headwinds generated by the Trump administration rescinding previously obligated grants. That challenge has only been compounded by climate tech’s broader fall from favor as investors chase flashier, more explicitly AI-centric bets.
Still, Cory Waltrip, Sublime’s VP of business development, told me that data centers make a fantastic beachhead market for the company’s low-carbon cement, which it produces through an electrochemical process that eliminates the need for high-temperature kilns. Hyperscalers, he said, have both the market power and financial runway to think long-term about “the way that they’re signing agreements” and “how you can structure those agreements.” Of course, “the balance sheet and the amount of capital that they allocate towards sustainability commitments” doesn’t hurt either.
Last May, Microsoft signed an offtake agreement with Sublime to purchase up to 622,500 metric tons of cement from the company’s future demonstration plant in Holyoke, Massachusetts, as well as a yet-to-be-sited full-scale facility. The deal is unique because it doesn’t require Microsoft to actually use Sublime’s cement in its data centers. Since cement is expensive and impractical to ship long distances, what Microsoft really purchased is the cement’s so-called “environmental attributes,” allowing Sublime to sell the physical product to local customers while Microsoft gets to claim the associated emissions reductions.
It was one of the first deals in the cement industry to decouple the physical product from its environmental benefits. But that good news was quickly overshadowed. Just eight days later, Energy Secretary Chris Wright announced the cancellation of 24 awards from the DOE’s Office of Clean Energy Demonstrations, including a $87 million grant for Sublime and a $189 million grant for Brimstone. That sent Sublime into a tailspin: In December, it paused plans for its demo plant, and in March it laid off roughly two-thirds of its workforce. The company has since filed a suit in the court of federal claims, alleging that the DOE breached its contract with Sublime, but a resolution could take years.
All the cement-hungry data centers in the world would struggle to make up for the loss of that federal funding. Hyperscalers want to buy low-carbon cement from companies that already have a credible pathway to commercial production, not foot the bill for a first-of-a-kind plant.
So Sublime is now pursuing “alternative scale up plans” that don’t involve the Holyoke facility, with Microsoft remaining “a committed customer,” Waltrip said. The most promising option involves co-locating with existing but underutilized standard cement plants in North America or Europe. Doing so could reduce capital costs by roughly 20% to 40%, Waltrip told me. “We can use all of the existing crushing, grinding, finishing, and storage equipment that an existing cement plant already has.”
Building in Europe — something Sublime has yet to commit to but is certainly considering — could also open the door to other non-dilutive public financing, such as the bloc’s roughly €40 billion EU Innovation Fund, which regularly backs industrial decarbonization projects such as low-carbon cement.
In the meantime, the company also says it’s made significant process improvements that could drastically change the scale at which it builds plants. While former CEO Leah Ellis described Sublime’s future commercial facility as a “megaton-scale plant,” Sublime now thinks it could economically produce the material in 50,000 to 250,000 metric tons-per-year facilities. These smaller plants would be far easier to finance without relying on large government grants, Waltrip told me.
Sublime is exploring multiple other undisclosed data center engagements as well, as Waltrip revealed that “we’ve completed materials testing with at least one hyperscaler. We’ve completed a concrete demonstration pour with another hyperscaler,” and “we’ve negotiated or are in the process of negotiating commercial agreements with other hyperscalers beyond Microsoft.”
The company also conducted a small test pour of its low-carbon concrete last year with STACK Infrastructure, a data center developer that leases out its facilities. But while the material has exceeded performance standards, STACK is unlikely to become a customer anytime soon. “If we had a commercial plant ready to go, I think we would be having no issues with finding customers for that product,” Waltrip told me. The challenge is that developers outside the major hyperscalers typically lack the financial flexibility to sign long-term offtake agreements for a product that may not reach meaningful scale until the mid-2030s.
So for now, Google, Microsoft, Meta, and Amazon remain the most sought-after buyers.
Brimstone, another low-carbon cement company, also landed a major hyperscaler deal last year. The company, which still uses kilns but replaces limestone with carbon-free calcium silicate rocks in its production process, agreed to supply Amazon with an undisclosed amount of cement and supplementary cementitious materials, which can partially replace cement in concrete. CEO Cody Finke told me he couldn’t share any additional details, including the volume of materials reserved or when he expects deliveries to begin, though he readily acknowledges the impact of the data center boom.
“There’s no question that the data center buildout has increased the demand for these materials,” Finke told me. Early last year, the company announced that it’s also figured out how to adapt its process to produce alumina — the refined material that smelters turn into aluminum. Data centers also use this metal throughout their operations in structural panels, server racks, and cooling systems. Eventually, the company says it will be able to make additional critical minerals and materials including steel, magnesium, and titanium.
For now though, Brimstone is working to complete construction of its demo plant in Reno, Nevada, which the company recently said it expects to be operational in 2028. Finke was somewhat more cautious, however, telling me only that it should come online by “the end of the decade.” The company’s first full-scale plant, the location of which it’s yet to announce, is slated to begin operations around 2034, producing 350,000 metric tons of alumina and an undisclosed amount of cement and other materials.
But like Sublime, Brimstone also lost a major source of federal support when the Trump administration rescinded its $189 million DOE grant, which was intended to finance construction of the demo plant. Finke, however, insisted this hasn’t altered the company’s timeline because Brimstone, having netted over $80 million to date, “had effectively raised the money that we needed, regardless of the grant.”
Finke isn’t relying on the goodwill of hyperscalers either, even though many do appear willing to pay a green premium in order to align with their ambitious, if flailing, decarbonization agendas. “To be frank, I don’t think that it’s that important to the transition whether or not those climate policies exist, because the companies that really matter are going to be cheaper anyway,” he told me.
Brimstone, he argues, is one of those companies. By co-producing multiple products at once, each can effectively offset the cost of the others, and Finke expects even the cement produced at the Reno demo plant to sell at standard market rates. Ultimately, while he sees growth in the data center industry as a tailwind, he doesn’t think Brimstone depends on that market, noting these facilities still only account for a small sliver of global cement demand. The company’s primary customers, he said, will ultimately be traditional buyers: concrete producers purchasing cement and aluminum smelters buying alumina.
Yet data centers willing to negotiate multi-year contracts still represent uniquely valuable first customers in an industry where such agreements are exceedingly rare. Instead, producers typically sell cement into a merchant spot market, where buyers purchase from whatever supplier meets their myriad requirements at the time. But that leaves low-carbon materials startups in a bind, Fortera’s CEO Ryan Gilliam told me. “When you’re trying to bring a new technology to market like us, you typically use offtake agreements to get project financing to justify building up big projects,” he explained. Potential investors simply want to see demonstrated future demand.
Fortera, which has raised about $150 million and has an operational pilot plant in California, captures the CO2 emitted from conventional cement production and converts it into a mineral form that then becomes part of the cement itself. Last year, it secured a strategic investment from Microsoft’s Climate Innovation Fund to help finance its first commercial-scale facility, expected to produce 400,000 tons of cement per year. In return, the tech giant secured the right to procure Fortera’s low-carbon cement and its associated environmental attribute certificates — more of a reservation than the binding offtake contract it signed with Sublime.
Just one plant of this size “would meet all the hyperscalers’ needs easily,” Gilliam told me, underlining Finke’s point that data centers will by no means represent a cement company’s largest buyer long-term. “Most hyperscalers, you’re talking maybe upwards of 100,000 tons a year of requirements around cement, and that might even be at the upper end,” Gilliam explained. By comparison, standard cement plants typically produce about a million tons of product annually.
So while Gilliam and others are happy to ride the AI boom, they also recognize that data centers are likely more valuable as an early market signal than a long-term source of demand. Even now, it remains unclear whether the boom is even a net positive for the sector as a whole.
“The number of AI startups and the amount of money that’s been diverted into that space definitely changed the pool of investors that you can go to right now,” Gilliam told me. And that’s the core paradox. The data center boom has become one of the clean cement industry’s most promising early markets and one of its fiercest competitors for capital. Welcome to the AI economy.
The energy developer is backing off after a Heatmap report.
Clearway says it is backing off its plans to build a data center and gas power plant on federal land, days after Heatmap revealed the energy developer’s proposal.
Last week, I reported that Clearway asked the Trump administration’s Bureau of Land Management to swap a five year-old application for a solar farm’s permits with “a proposed data center and natural gas facility.” Clearway’s chief development officer John Woody had written in a letter to BLM dated April 3 that the swap was “the result of a shift in our internal development priorities” and intended “to better align with the goals of our Administration.” He also noted the plans were in “exploratory early stages.”
This news fit a trend. I obtained Clearway’s letter right after reporting on a different solar project on federal land that was being swapped for a data center. But it turns out, the company’s internal thinking continued to shift: on Friday, they reached out to me saying they are now nixing the data center and gas plant, after concluding it wasn’t the right call for their business.
“Since our initial filing, we’ve evaluated how to make the best use of this public land in a way that serves its intended purpose: the public interest. As a clean energy developer and operator, our focus in Nevada remains solar and battery storage,” Clearway said in a statement it provided to me from an unnamed spokesperson. “We are in the process of amending our application to reflect the state’s growing demand for low-cost, reliable energy.”
In addition, Clearway on Monday sent a letter to BLM formally alerting the agency it has no plans to build the data center, which it also provided to me.
When I first broke news of Clearway’s plans, I said it was an apparent aberration – they oversaw relatively few fossil projects and had never worked in data centers. I chalked this pivot up to yet another energy developer changing its tune with the winds of national politics. Now that the company is apparently sticking to its guns, I’m mostly just left wondering what happened here – and relieved some still remain committed to zero-emissions power in the booming business of electrons.