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Inside Climeworks’ big experiment to wrest carbon from the air

In the spring of 2021, the world’s leading authority on energy published a “roadmap” for preventing the most catastrophic climate change scenarios. One of its conclusions was particularly daunting. Getting energy-related emissions down to net zero by 2050, the International Energy Agency said, would require “huge leaps in innovation.”
Existing technologies would be mostly sufficient to carry us down the carbon curve over the next decade. But after that, nearly half of the remaining work would have to come from solutions that, for all intents and purposes, did not exist yet. Some would only require retooling existing industries, like developing electric long-haul trucks and carbon-free steel. But others would have to be built from almost nothing and brought to market in record time.
What will it take to rapidly develop new solutions, especially those that involve costly physical infrastructure and which have essentially no commercial value today?
That’s the challenge facing Climeworks, the Swiss company developing machines to wrest carbon dioxide molecules directly from the air. In September 2021, a few months after the IEA’s landmark report came out, Climeworks switched on its first commercial-scale “direct air capture” facility, a feat of engineering it dubbed “Orca,” in Iceland.
The technology behind Orca is one of the top candidates to clean up the carbon already blanketing the Earth. It could also be used to balance out any stubborn, residual sources of greenhouse gases in the future, such as from agriculture or air travel, providing the “net” in net-zero. If we manage to scale up technologies like Orca to the point where we remove more carbon than we release, we could even begin cooling the planet.
As the largest carbon removal plant operating in the world, Orca is either trivial or one of the most important climate projects built in the last decade, depending on how you look at it. It was designed to capture approximately 4,000 metric tons of carbon from the air per year, which, as one climate scientist, David Ho, put it, is the equivalent of rolling back the clock on just 3 seconds of global emissions. But the learnings gleaned from Orca could surpass any quantitative assessment of its impact. How well do these “direct air capture” machines work in the real world? How much does it really cost to run them? And can they get better?
The company — and its funders — are betting they can. Climeworks has made major deals with banks, insurers, and other companies trying to go green to eventually remove carbon from the atmosphere on their behalf. Last year, the company raised $650 million in equity that will “unlock the next phase of its growth,” scaling the technology “up to multi-million-ton capacity … as carbon removal becomes a trillion-dollar market.” And just last month, the U.S. Department of Energy selected Climeworks, along with another carbon removal company, Heirloom, to receive up to $600 million to build a direct air capture “hub” in Louisiana, with the goal of removing one million tons of carbon annually.
Two years after powering up Orca, Climeworks has yet to reveal how effective the technology has proven to be. But in extensive interviews, top executives painted a picture of innovation in progress.
Chief marketing officer Julie Gosalvez told me that Orca is small and climatically insignificant on purpose. The goal is not to make a dent in climate change — yet — but to maximize learning at minimal cost. “You want to learn when you're small, right?” Gosalvez said. “It’s really de-risking the technology. It’s not like Tesla doing EVs when we have been building cars for 70 years and the margin of learning and risk is much smaller. It’s completely new.”
From the ground, Orca looks sort of like a warehouse or a server farm with a massive air conditioning system out back. The plant consists of eight shipping container-sized boxes arranged in a U-shape around a central building, each one equipped with an array of fans. When the plant is running, which is more or less all the time, the fans suck air into the containers where it makes contact with a porous filter known as a “sorbent” which attracts CO2 molecules.

When the filters become totally saturated with CO2, the vents on the containers snap shut, and the containers are heated to more than 212 degrees Fahrenheit. This releases the CO2, which is then delivered through a pipe to a secondary process called “liquefaction,” where it is compressed into a liquid. Finally, the liquid CO2 is piped into basalt rock formations underground, where it slowly mineralizes into stone. The process requires a little bit of electricity and a lot of heat, all of which comes from a carbon-free source — a geothermal power plant nearby.
A day at Orca begins with the morning huddle. The total number on the team is often in flux, but it typically has a staff of about 15 people, Climeworks’ head of operations Benjamin Keusch told me. Ten work in a virtual control room 1,600 miles away in Zurich, taking turns monitoring the plant on a laptop and managing its operations remotely. The remainder work on site, taking orders from the control room, repairing equipment, and helping to run tests.
During the huddle, the team discusses any maintenance that needs to be done. If there’s an issue, the control room will shut down part of the plant while the on-site workers investigate. So far, they’ve dealt with snow piling up around the plant that had to be shoveled, broken and corroded equipment that had to be replaced, and sediment build-up that had to be removed.

The air is more humid and sulfurous at the site in Iceland than in Switzerland, where Climeworks had built an earlier, smaller-scale model, so the team is also learning how to optimize the technology for different weather. Within all this troubleshooting, there’s additional trade-offs to explore and lessons to learn. If a part keeps breaking, does it make more sense to plan to replace it periodically, or to redesign it? How do supply chain constraints play into that calculus?
The company is also performing tests regularly, said Keusch. For example, the team has tested new component designs at Orca that it now plans to incorporate into Climeworks’ next project from the start. (Last year, the company began construction on “Mammoth,” a new plant that will be nine times larger than Orca, on a neighboring site.) At a summit that Climeworks hosted in June, co-founder Jan Wurzbacher said the company believes that over the next decade, it will be able to make its direct air capture system twice as small and cut its energy consumption in half.
“In innovation lingo, the jargon is we haven’t converged on a dominant design,” Gregory Nemet, a professor at the University of Wisconsin who studies technological development, told me. For example, in the wind industry, turbines with three blades, upwind design, and a horizontal axis, are now standard. “There were lots of other experiments before that convergence happened in the late 1980s,” he said. “So that’s kind of where we are with direct air capture. There’s lots of different ways that are being tried right now, even within a company like Climeworks."
Although Climeworks was willing to tell me about the goings-on at Orca over the last two years, the company declined to share how much carbon it has captured or how much energy, on average, the process has used.
Gosalvez told me that the plant’s performance has improved month after month, and that more detailed information was shared with investors. But she was hesitant to make the data public, concerned that it could be misinterpreted, because tests and maintenance at Orca require the plant to shut down regularly.
“Expectations are not in line with the stage of the technology development we are at. People expect this to be turnkey,” she said. “What does success look like? Is it the absolute numbers, or the learnings and ability to scale?”
Danny Cullenward, a climate economist and consultant who has studied the integrity of various carbon removal methods, did not find the company’s reluctance to share data especially concerning. “For these earliest demonstration facilities, you might expect people to hit roadblocks or to have to shut the plant down for a couple of weeks, or do all sorts of things that are going to make it hard to transparently report the efficiency of your process, the number of tons you’re getting at different times,” he told me.
But he acknowledged that there was an inherent tension to the stance, because ultimately, Climeworks’ business model — and the technology’s effectiveness as a climate solution — depend entirely on the ability to make precise, transparent, carbon accounting claims.
Nemet was also of two minds about it. Carbon removal needs to go from almost nothing today to something like a billion tons of carbon removed per year in just three decades, he said. That’s a pace on the upper end of what’s been observed historically with other technologies, like solar panels. So it’s important to understand whether Climeworks’ tech has any chance of meeting the moment. Especially since the company faces competition from a number of others developing direct air capture technologies, like Heirloom and Occidental Petroleum, that may be able to do it cheaper, or faster.
However, Nemet was also sympathetic to the position the company was in. “It’s relatively incremental how these technologies develop,” he said. “I have heard this criticism that this is not a real technology because we haven’t built it at scale, so we shouldn’t depend on it. Or that one of these plants not doing the removal that it said it would do shows that it doesn’t work and that we therefore shouldn’t plan on having it available. To me, that’s a pretty high bar to cross with a climate mitigation technology that could be really useful.”
More data on Orca is coming. Climeworks recently announced that it will work with the company Puro.Earth to certify every ton of CO2 that it removes from the atmosphere and stores underground, in order to sell carbon credits based on this service. The credits will be listed on a public registry.
But even if Orca eventually runs at full capacity, Climeworks will never be able to sell 4,000 carbon credits per year from the plant. Gosalvez clarified that 4,000 tons is the amount of carbon the plant is designed to suck up annually, but the more important number is the amount of “net” carbon removal it can produce. “That might be the first bit of education you need to get out there,” she said, “because it really invites everyone to look at what are the key drivers to be paid attention to.”
She walked me through a chart that illustrated the various ways in which some of Orca’s potential to remove carbon can be lost. First, there’s the question of availability — how often does the plant have to shut down due to maintenance or power shortages? Climeworks aims to limit those losses to 10%. Next, there’s the recovery stage, where the CO2 is separated from the sorbent, purified, and liquified. Gosalvez said it’s basically impossible to do this without losing some CO2. At best, the company hopes to limit that to 5%.
Finally, the company also takes into account “gray emissions,” or the carbon footprint associated with the business, like the materials, the construction, and the eventual decommissioning of the plant and restoration of the site to its former state. If one of Climeworks’ plants ever uses energy from fossil fuels (which the company has said it does not plan to do) it would incorporate any emissions from that energy. Climeworks aims to limit gray emissions to 15%.
In the end, Orca’s net annual carbon removal capacity — the amount Climeworks can sell to customers — is really closer to 3,000 tons. Gosalvez hopes other carbon removal companies adopt the same approach. “Ultimately what counts is your net impact on the planet and the atmosphere,” she said.
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Despite being a first-of-its-kind demonstration plant — and an active research site — Orca is also a commercial project. In fact, Gosalvez told me that Orca’s entire estimated capacity for carbon removal, over the 12 years that the plant is expected to run, sold out shortly after it began operating. The company is now selling carbon removal services from its yet-to-be-built Mammoth plant.
In January, Climeworks announced that Orca had officially fulfilled orders from Microsoft, Stripe, and Shopify. Those companies have collectively asked Climeworks to remove more than 16,000 tons of carbon, according to the deal-tracking site cdr.fyi, but it’s unclear what portion of that was delivered. The achievement was verified by a third party, but the total amount removed was not made public.
Climeworks has also not disclosed how much it has charged companies per ton of carbon, a metric that will eventually be an important indicator of whether the technology can scale to a climate-relevant level. But it has provided rough estimates of how much it expects each ton of carbon removal to cost as the technology scales — expectations which seem to have shifted after two years of operating Orca.
In 2021, Climeworks co-founder Jan Wurzbacher said the company aimed to get the cost down to $200 to $300 per ton removed by the end of the decade, with steeper declines in subsequent years. But at the summit in June, he presented a new cost curve chart showing that the price was currently more than $1,000, and that by the end of the decade, it would fall to somewhere between $400 to $700. The range was so large because the cost of labor, energy, and storing the CO2 varied widely by location, he said. The company aims to get the price down to $100 to $300 per ton by 2050, when the technology has significantly matured.
Critics of carbon removal technologies often point to the vast sums flowing into direct air capture tech like Orca, which are unlikely to make a meaningful difference in climate change for decades to come. During a time when worsening disasters make action feel increasingly urgent, many are skeptical of the value of investing limited funds and political energy into these future solutions. Carbon removal won’t make much of a difference if the world doesn’t deploy the tools already available to reduce emissions as rapidly as possible — and there’s certainly not enough money or effort going into that yet.
But we’ll never have the option to fully halt climate change, let alone begin reversing it, if we don’t develop solutions like Orca. In September, the International Energy Agency released an update to its seminal net-zero report. The new analysis said that in the last two years, the world had, in fact, made significant progress on innovation. Now, some 65% of emission reductions after 2030 could be accounted for with technologies that had reached market uptake. It even included a line about the launch of Orca, noting that Climeworks’ direct air capture technology had moved from the prototype to the demonstration stage.
But it cautioned that DAC needs “to be scaled up dramatically to play the role envisaged,” in the net zero scenario. Climeworks’ experience with Orca offers a glimpse of how much work is yet to be done.
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Alternative proteins have floundered in the U.S., but investors are leaning in elsewhere.
Vegans and vegetarians rejoiced throughout the 2010s as food scientists got better and better at engineering plant and fungi-based proteins to mimic the texture, taste, and look of meat. Tests showed that even some meat enthusiasts couldn’t tell the difference. By the end of the decade, “fake meat” was booming. Burger King added it to the menu. Investment in the sector topped out at $5.6 billion in 2021.
Those heady days are now over — at least in the U.S. Secretary of Health and Human Services Robert F. Kennedy, Jr. champions a “carnivore diet,” price-conscious Americans are prioritizing affordable calories, and many consumers insist the real thing still simply tastes better. Investment in alternative proteins has fallen each year since 2021, with the industry raising a comparably meager $881 million in 2025.
In China, however, the industry is just starting to pick up steam. Early-stage startups have been popping up ever since the country’s Ministry of Agriculture and Rural Affairs included “future foods” such as lab-grown meat and plant-based eggs in its 2021 – 2025 five-year plan, indicating that these modern proteins will play a role in helping to secure the country’s domestic food supply chain.
“26% of the world’s meat is consumed by China, and about 50% of the world’s seafood,” Albert Tseng, co-founder of the venture firm Dao Foods, which backs Chinese companies developing climate-friendly proteins, told me. And yet the average Chinese consumer still only eats about half as much meat as the typical American, meaning that as the country gets richer, those numbers are only poised to grow. “The history of the world is essentially that as incomes rise, demand for protein also rises,” Tseng said.
But letting the protein patterns of the past dictate the future will have serious implications for the climate. Livestock production accounts for roughly 14% to 18% of global greenhouse gas emissions from things like methane releases and land-use changes. Yet it can seem unthinkable for many consumers to cut back on the foods they love, which is why some of the alternate protein sector’s most well-known companies are aiming to replicate the taste, look, and feel of meat.
That strategy isn’t going to fly in China though, Tseng told me. His goal is to slowly woo Chinese consumers away from meat and dairy with alluring plant-based, fungi-based, and lab-grown alternatives — ideally without customers even realizing what’s happening. For example, one of Dao’s portfolio companies, ZhongGu Mycelium, embeds the “superfood” mycelium — the root-like structure of fungi — into flour, boosting the protein-content and nutritional value of everyday products like dumplings and buns.
“We’re trying to actually crowd out demand for other proteins by infusing staple foods with the superfood ingredients that are more familiar, but also satiate people and provide the nutrition they need,” Tseng explained.
Tseng, a Canadian of Chinese descent, founded Dao Foods in 2018, with the idea that a regionally focused platform would allow him and his portfolio companies to develop deeper insights into the Chinese consumer. One lesson so far: In China, highlighting the health benefits and novelty of new proteins in their own right tends to resonate more than replicating the experience of eating meat or dairy. Dao Foods’ portfolio companies are making everything from coconut milk tea to rice proteins and plant-based hot pot broth — products designed to fit seamlessly into the country’s existing culinary culture without necessarily taking the place of meat.
“Direct replacement is probably not a sound commercial pathway,” Tseng said. Designer proteins command a higher price and are thus largely enjoyed by people explicitly trying to reduce their meat intake, whether for climate, health, or animal welfare reasons. But that conscious consumer segment concerned about the environment or animal rights is essentially nonexistent in China, Tseng told me. Rather, meat is viewed as a sign of status for the country’s growing upper and middle classes.
That cultural mismatch may be part of the reason Beyond Meat floundered when it entered China amidst the COVID lockdowns of 2020, a year after going public with a nearly $4 billion valuation. It finally exited the market early last year, and today its market capitalization is less than $400 million — a roughly 90% decline. Impossible Foods has long planned to launch in China too — the founder told Bloomberg in 2019 that it was “the most important country for our mission” — but that has yet to happen. Impossible CEO Peter McGuinness said last summer that the company was still years away from profitability.
China definitely hasn’t given up on the sector yet — it’s barely even gotten started. The country is now in the process of finalizing its five-year plan for 2026 – 2030, and “future foods” are expected to remain a part of the roadmap. Tseng noted that local mayors who implement the national government’s dictates are already competing to attract alternative protein companies to their regions, betting they’ll become drivers of regional GDP just as solar panel and electric vehicle manufacturers have been. “We’ve moved two or three companies now from one region of China to another because they’ve been interested in developing an area of expertise in sustainable food or future foods,” he told me.
So far, these regional enticements have largely come in the form of non-cash incentives. For example, ZhongGu Mycelium, is moving from Mongolia to the Western China municipality of Chengdu, where it will establish a new mycelium research and development facility and production hub. The move was a no-brainer given that “they were being offered a new factory space predominantly rent free for the first three years,” Tseng told me. Not only that, but the local government is “connecting them with the local business environment and food companies in that area. They’re providing some tax incentives, and they’re providing connections to the local university for research support.”
The U.S. can’t offer this level of state support even in the best of times. And with the current meat-loving administration in office, the likelihood of the alternative proteins market receiving any degree of federal backing is essentially nil. We simply aren’t hearing much these days from some names that were making waves just five years ago.
“A lot of these companies were ahead of consumer demand,” Kim Odhner, the co-founder of the sustainable food venture firm Unovis Asset Management, told me. When he started Unovis in 2018, companies such as Impossible Foods and Beyond Meat — an early Unovis investment — were gaining serious momentum. The firm has thus far weathered the downturn with its broad portfolio of meat and dairy alternatives — which includes an investment in Dao Foods, where it serves as a founding partner and shareholder. But as Odhner told me, “One of the most important lessons is that the whole build it and they will come mentality is very dangerous.” Many of the sector’s anticipated customers — in the U.S. and Europe at least — have yet to show up.
As Odhner prepares to raise a third fund with Unovis, he’s focusing on supporting growth-stage startups with proven technologies and minimal regulatory risk. That mainly includes businesses producing protein-rich ingredients for established food companies to incorporate into their existing product lines. It would be “very difficult,” he told me, for Unovis to raise money for an early-stage alternative protein fund today.
Like Tseng, Odhner thinks the best approach for the industry is to make inroads at the margins. “I don’t see any time in the near future — even in the distant future — where we’re going to be replacing center-of-the-plate steak with a cultivated meat equivalent,” Odhner told me.
Either way, Tseng and Odhner agree that there’s still real potential — and real money — in the sector. In China at least, Tseng thinks alternative proteins could follow in the footsteps of other clean energy industries such as solar panel and EVs that have taken root in the country despite many of their breakthrough innovations originating elsewhere. Drawing a parallel to the rise of Chinese EVs, he said that while outsiders perceived the industry as taking off overnight, its growth was actually a decades-long journey marked by plenty of missteps.
“But then at some point, it hit a tipping point,” Tseng told me. “And then the Chinese government signaled, investors poured in and supported these companies, and then you get BYD.”
Except for those related to the FIFA World Cup.
The Federal Emergency Management Agency has suspended all of its training and education programs for emergency managers across the country — except for those “directly supporting the 2026 FIFA World Cup.”
FEMA’s National Training and Education Division offers nearly 300 courses for local first responders and emergency managers, while FEMA’s National Disaster and Emergency Management University (formerly called the Emergency Management Institute) acts as the central training organization for emergency management in the United States. Since funding for the Department of Homeland Security lapsed on February 14, FEMA has instructed NTED partners to “cease course delivery operations,” according to communication reviewed by Heatmap. The NDEMU website and independent study materials have also been taken down.
The decision to remove NDEMU materials and freeze NTED courses not related to the World Cup has left emergency management students around the country in the lurch, with some just a few credits shy of certifications that would allow them to seek jobs. Mid-career employees have likewise been unable to meet their continuing training requirements, with courses pending “rescheduling” at a later date.
In states like California, where all public employees are sworn in as disaster service workers, jurisdictions have been left without the resources to train their employees. Additionally, certain preparedness grants require proof that emergency departments are compliant with frameworks such as the National Incident Management System and the Incident Command System. “The federal government says we need to be compliant with this, and they give us a way to do that, and then they take it away,” Laura Maskell, the emergency training and exercise coordinator for the city of San Jose, told me.
Depending on how long the DHS shutdown lasts, the training freeze is likely to exacerbate already dire staffing shortages at many municipal offices around the country. Emergency managers often juggle multiple jobs, ranging from local hazard and mitigation planning to public communication and IT. They also serve as the point people for everything from cybersecurity attacks to spectator safety to extreme-weather disaster response, and staying up to date on the latest procedures and technologies is critical enough to require ongoing education to maintain certification.
Training can be extensive. Becoming a certified emergency manager requires 100 hours of general management and 100 hours of emergency management courses — many of which students complete independently, online, while working other jobs — nearly all of which are currently suspended. The courses are utilized by many other first responders and law enforcement groups, too, from firefighters to university campus safety officers.
Emergency management officials and students I spoke with told me they see FEMA’s decision as capricious — “an intentional choice the government has made to further disrupt emergency management,” as a student who wanted to remain anonymous to protect their FEMA-funded employer from backlash told me — given that FEMA materials were not removed or trainings canceled during previous shutdowns. (Materials were unavailable during the most recent full-government shutdown in 2025.) In the past, FEMA has processed certifications once its offices have reopened; the exception for World Cup-related training adds to the feeling that the decision to remove materials is punitive.
“My understanding is these websites are pretty low maintenance,” Maskell said. She added, “Outside of a specific review cycle, I was not aware that there was any active maintenance or upkeep on these websites. So for them to take these down, allegedly because of the DHS shutdown, that doesn’t make sense to me.”
San Jose’s 6,800 city employees are required to take two to four designated FEMA courses, which Maskell said her team no longer has access to. “We don’t have another way” to train employees “that is readily available to get them that information in a cost-effective, standardized, most importantly up-to-the-federal-requirements way,” she added. Levi’s Stadium in Santa Clara, which falls within San Jose’s jurisdiction, is a World Cup site, and Maskell confirmed that in-person training specific to sports and special events has proceeded uninterrupted.
Depriving emergency managers and first responders of training seems at odds with the safe streets emphasis of the Trump administration. But FEMA has been in crisis since the DOGE cuts of early 2025, which were executed by a series of administrators who believe the agency shouldn’t exist; another 10,000 employees may be cut this spring. (Sure to deepen the chaos at the agency, Trump fired Secretary of Homeland Security Kristi Noem earlier Thursday. FEMA did not respond to a request for comment on this story.) The White House says it wants to shift responsibility for disaster planning and response back to the states — a goal that nevertheless underscores the importance of keeping training and resources accessible, even if the website isn’t being actively updated during the DHS shutdown.
Trainings that remain caught up in the politics of the shutdown include courses at the Center for Homeland Defense and Security, the Rural Domestic Preparedness Consortium, and others. The National Domestic Preparedness Consortium, which is also affected, offers training for extreme weather disasters — education that is especially critical heading into flood and tornado season, with wildfire and hurricane season around the corner. Courses like the National Disaster Preparedness Training Center’s offering of “Evacuation Planning Strategies and Solutions” in San Francisco, one of the World Cup host cities, fall under the exemption and are expected to be held as planned.
Noem had blamed Democrats for holding up $625 million in FEMA grants for FIFA World Cup host cities, funds that would go toward security and planning. Democrats have pushed back on that line, pointing out that World Cup security funding was approved last summer and the agency missed the anticipated January award date for the grant program ahead of the DHS shutdown. Democrats have said they will not fund the department until they reach an agreement on Immigration and Customs Enforcement’s use of deadly force and detention against U.S. citizens and migrant communities. (The House is scheduled to vote Thursday afternoon on a potential DHS funding package; a scheduled Senate vote earlier in the day failed to advance.)
The federal government estimates that as many as 10 million international visitors will travel to the U.S. for the World Cup, which begins in 98 days. “Training and education scheduled for the 11 U.S. World Cup host cities,” the DHS told its partners, “will continue as planned.”
The administration has begun shuffling projects forward as court challenges against the freeze heat up.
The Trump administration really wants you to think it’s thawing the freeze on renewable energy projects. Whether this is a genuine face turn or a play to curry favor with the courts and Congress, however, is less clear.
In the face of pressures such as surging energy demand from artificial intelligence and lobbying from prominent figures on the right, including the wife of Trump’s deputy chief of staff, the Bureau of Land Management has unlocked environmental permitting processes in recent weeks for a substantial number of renewable energy projects. Public documents, media reports, and official agency correspondence with stakeholders on the ground all show projects that had ground to a halt now lurching forward.
What has gone relatively unnoticed in all this is that the Trump administration has used this momentum to argue against a lawsuit filed by renewable energy groups challenging Trump’s permitting freeze. In January, for instance, Heatmap was first to report that the administration had lifted its ban on eagle take permits for wind projects. As we predicted at the time, after easing that restriction, Trump’s Justice Department has argued that the judge in the permitting freeze case should reject calls for an injunction. “Arguments against the so-called Eagle Permit Ban are perhaps the easiest to reject. [The Fish and Wildlife Service] has lifted the temporary pause on the issuance of Eagle take permits,” DOJ lawyers argued in a legal brief in February.
On February 26, E&E News first reported on Interior’s permitting freeze melting, citing three unnamed career agency officials who said that “at least 20 commercial-scale” solar projects would advance forward. Those projects include each of the seven segments of the Esmeralda mega-project that Heatmap was first to report was killed last fall. E&E News also reported that Jove Solar in Arizona, the Redonda and Bajada solar projects in California and three Nevada solar projects – Boulder Solar III, Dry Lake East and Libra Solar – will proceed in some fashion. Libra Solar received its final environmental approval in December but hasn’t gotten its formal right-of-way for construction.
Since then, Heatmap has learned of four other projects on the list, all in Nevada: Mosey Energy Center, Kawich Energy Center, Purple Sage Energy Center and Rock Valley Energy Center.
Things also seem to be moving on the transmission front in ways that will benefit solar. BLM posted the final environmental impact statement for upgrades to NextEra’s GridLance West transmission project in Nevada, which is expected to connect to solar facilities. And NV Energy’s Greenlink North transmission line is now scheduled to receive a final federal decision in June.
On wind, the administration silently advanced the Lucky Star transmission line in Wyoming, which we’ve covered as a bellwether for the state of the permitting process. We were first to report that BLM sent local officials in Wyoming a draft environmental review document a year ago signaling that the transmission line would be approved — then the whole thing inexplicably ground to a halt. Now things are moving forward again. In early February, BLM posted the final environmental review for Lucky Star online without any public notice or press release.
There are certainly reasons why Trump would allow renewables development to move forward at this juncture.
The president is under incredible pressure to get as much energy as possible onto the electric grid to power AI data centers without causing undue harm to consumers’ pocketbooks. According to the Wall Street Journal, the oil industry is urging him to move renewables permitting forward so Democrats come back to the table on a permitting deal.
Then there’s the MAGAverse’s sudden love affair with solar energy. Katie Miller, wife of White House deputy chief of staff Stephen Miller, has suddenly become a pro-solar advocate at the same time as a PR campaign funded by members of American Clean Power claims to be doing paid media partnerships with her. (Miller has denied being paid by ACP or the campaign.) Former Trump senior adviser Kellyanne Conway is now touting polls about solar’s popularity for “energy security” reasons, and Trump pollster Tony Fabrizio just dropped a First Solar-funded survey showing that roughly half of Trump voters support solar farms.
This timing is also conspicuously coincidental. One day before the E&E News story, the Justice Department was granted an extension until March 16 to file updated rebuttals in the freeze case before any oral arguments or rulings on injunctions. In other court filings submitted by the Justice Department, BLM career staff acknowledge they’ve met with people behind multiple solar projects referenced in the lawsuit since it was filed. It wouldn’t be surprising if a big set of solar projects got their permitting process unlocked right around that March 16 deadline.
Kevin Emmerich, co-founder of Western environmental group Basin & Range Watch, told me it’s important to recognize that not all of these projects are getting final approvals; some of this stuff is more piecemeal or procedural. As an advocate who wants more responsible stewardship of public lands and is opposed to lots of this, Emmerich is actually quite troubled by the way Trump is going back on the pause. That is especially true after the Supreme Court’s 2025 ruling in the Seven Counties case, which limited the scope of environmental reviews, not to mention Trump-era changes in regulation and agency leadership.
“They put a lot of scrutiny on these projects, and for a while there we didn’t think they were going to move, period,” Emmerich told me. “We’re actually a little bit bummed out about this because some of these we identified as having really big environmental impacts. We’re seeing this as a perfect storm for those of us worried about public land being taken over by energy because the weakening of NEPA is going to be good for a lot of these people, a lot of these developers.”
BLM would not tell me why this thaw is happening now. When reached for comment, the agency replied with an unsigned statement that the Interior Department “is actively reviewing permitting for large-scale onshore solar projects” through a “comprehensive” process with “consistent standards” – an allusion to the web of review criteria renewable energy developers called a de facto freeze on permits. “This comprehensive review process ensures that projects — whether on federal, state, or private lands — receive appropriate oversight whenever federal resources, permits, or consultations are involved.”