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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.
Courtesy of Climeworks
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.
Courtesy of Climeworks
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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For now, at least, the math simply doesn’t work. Enter the EREV.
American EVs are caught in a size conundrum.
Over the past three decades, U.S. drivers decided they want tall, roomy crossovers and pickup trucks rather than coupes and sedans. These popular big vehicles looked like the obvious place to electrify as the car companies made their uneasy first moves away from combustion. But hefty vehicles and batteries don’t mix: It takes much, much larger batteries to push long, heavy, aerodynamically unfriendly SUVs and trucks down the road, which can make the prices of the EV versions spiral out of control.
Now, as the car industry confronts a confusing new era under Trump, signals of change are afoot. Although a typical EV that uses only a rechargeable battery for its power makes sense for smaller, more efficient cars with lower energy demands, that might not be the way the industry tries to electrify its biggest models anymore.
The predicament at Ford is particularly telling. The Detroit giant was an early EV adopter compared to its rivals, rolling out the Mustang Mach-E at the end of 2020 and the Ford F-150 Lightning, an electrified version of the best-selling vehicle in America, in 2022. These vehicles sell: Mustang Mach-E was the No. 3 EV in the United States in 2024, trailing only Tesla’s big two. The Lightning pickup came in No. 6.
Yet Ford is in an EV crisis. The 33,510 Lightning trucks it sold last year amount to less than 5% of the 730,000-plus tally for the ordinary F-150. With those sales stacked up against enormous costs needed to invest in EV and battery manufacturing, the brand’s EV division has been losing billions of dollars per year. Amid this struggle, Ford continues to shift its EV plans and hasn’t introduced a new EV to the market in three years. During this time, rival GM has begun to crank out Blazer and Equinox EVs, and now says its EV group is profitable, at least on a heavily qualified basis.
As CEO Jim Farley admitted during an earnings call on Wednesday, Ford simply can’t make the math work out when it comes to big EVs. The F-150 Lightning starts at $63,000 thanks in large part to the enormous battery it requires. Even then, the base version gets just 230 miles of range — a figure that, like with all EVs, drops quickly in extreme weather, when going uphill, or when towing. Combine those technical problems and high prices with the cultural resistance to EVs among many pickup drivers and the result is the continually rough state of the EV truck market.
It sounds like Ford no longer believes pure electric is the answer for its biggest vehicles. Instead, Farley announced a plan to pivot to extended-range electric vehicle (or EREV) versions of its pickup trucks and large SUVs later in the decade.
EREVs are having a moment. These vehicles use a large battery to power the electric motors that push the wheels, just like an EV does. They also carry an onboard gas engine that acts as a generator, recharging the battery when it gets low and greatly increasing the vehicle’s range between refueling stops. EREVs are big in China. They got a burst of hype in America when Ram promised its upcoming Ramcharger EREV pickup truck would achieve nearly 700 miles of combined range. Scout Motors, the brand behind the boxy International Scout icon of the 1960s and 70s, is returning to the U.S. under Volkswagen ownership and finding a groundswell of enthusiasm for its promised EREV SUV.
The EREV setup makes a lot of sense for heavy-duty rides. Ramcharger, for example, will come with a 92 kilowatt-hour battery that can charge via plug and should deliver around 145 miles of electric range. The size of the pickup truck means it can also accommodate a V6 engine and a gas tank large enough to stretch the Ramcharger’s overall range to 690 miles. It is, effectively, a plug-in hybrid on steroids, with a battery big enough to accomplish nearly any daily driving on electricity and enough backup gasoline to tow anything and go anywhere.
Using that trusty V6 to generate electricity isn’t nearly as energy-efficient as charging and discharging a battery. But as a backup that kicks in only after 100-plus miles of electric driving, it’s certainly a better climate option than a gas-only pickup or a traditional hybrid. The setup is also ideally suited for what drivers of heavy duty vehicles need (or, at least, what they think they need): efficient local driving with no range anxiety. And it’s similar enough to the comfortable plug-and-go paradigm that an extended-range EV should seem less alien to the pickup owner.
Ford’s big pivot looks like a sign of the times. The brand still plans to build EVs at the smaller end of its range; its skunkwords experimental team is hard at work on Ford’s long-running attempt to build an electric vehicle in the $30,000 range. If Ford could make EVs at a price at least reasonably competitive with entry-level combustion cars, then many buyers might go electric for pure pragmatic terms, seeing the EV as a better economic bet in the long run. Electric-only makes sense here.
But at the big end, that’s not the case. As Bloombergreports on Ford’s EV trouble, most buyers in the U.S. show “no willingness to pay a premium” for an electric vehicle over a gas one or a hybrid. Facing the prospect of the $7,500 EV tax credit disappearing under Trump, plus the specter of tariffs driving up auto production costs, and the task of selling Americans an expensive electric-only pickup truck or giant SUV goes from fraught to extremely difficult.
As much as the industry has coalesced around the pure EV as the best way to green the car industry, this sort of bifurcation — EV for smaller vehicles, EREV for big ones — could be the best way forward. Especially if the Ramcharger or EREV Ford F-150 is what it takes to convince a quorum of pickup truck drivers to ditch their gas-only trucks.
Current conditions: People in Sydney, Australia, were told to stay inside after an intense rainstorm caused major flooding • Temperatures today will be between 25 and 40 degrees Fahrenheit below average across the northern Rockies and High Plains • It’s drizzly in Paris, where world leaders are gathering to discuss artificial intelligence policy.
Well, today was supposed to be the deadline for new and improved climate plans to be submitted by countries committed to the Paris Agreement. These plans – known as nationally determined contributions – outline emissions targets through 2030 and explain how countries plan to reach those targets. Everyone has known about the looming deadline for two years, yet Carbon Briefreports that just 10 of the 195 members of the Paris Agreement have submitted their NDCs. “Countries missing the deadline represent 83% of global emissions and nearly 80% of the world’s economy,” according to Carbon Brief. Last week UN climate chief Simon Stiell struck a lenient tone, saying the plans need to be in by September “at the latest,” which would be ahead of COP30 in November. The U.S. submitted its new NDC well ahead of the deadline, but this was before President Trump took office, and has more or less been disregarded.
Many of the country’s largest pension funds are falling short of their obligations to protect members’ investments by failing to address climate change risks in their proxy voting. That’s according to new analysis from the Sierra Club, which analyzed 32 of the largest and most influential state and local pension systems in the U.S. Collectively, these funds have more than $3.8 trillion in assets under management. Proxy voting is when pensions vote on behalf of shareholders at companies’ annual meetings, weighing in on various corporate policies and initiatives. In the case of climate change, this might be things like nudging a company to disclose greenhouse gas emissions, or better yet, reduce emissions by creating transition plans.
This report looked at funds’ recent proxy voting records and voting guidelines, which pension staff use to guide their voting decisions. The funds were then graded from A (“industry leaders”) to F (“industry laggards”). Just one fund, the Massachusetts Pension Reserves Investment Management (MassPRIM), received an “A” grade; the majority received either “D” or “F” grades. Others didn’t disclose their voting records at all. “To ensure they can meet their obligations to protect retirees’ hard-earned money for decades to come, pensions must strengthen their proxy voting strategies to hold corporate polluters accountable and support climate progress,” said Allie Lindstrom, a senior strategist with the Sierra Club.
Football fans in Los Angeles watching last night’s Super Bowl may have seen an ad warning about the growing climate crisis. The regional spot was made by Science Moms, a nonpartisan group of climate scientists who are also mothers. The “By the Time” ad shows a montage of young girls growing into adults, and warns that climate change is rapidly altering the world today’s children will inherit. “Our window to act on climate change is like watching them grow up,” the voiceover says. “We blink, and we miss it.” It also encourages viewers to donate to LA wildfire victims. A Science Moms spokesperson toldADWEEK they expected some 11 million people to see the ad, and that focus group testing showed a 25% increase in support for climate action among viewers. The New York Timesincluded the ad in its lineup of best Super Bowl commercials, saying it was “a little clunky and sanctimonious in its execution but unimpeachable in its sentiments.”
General Motors will reportedly stop selling the gas-powered Chevy Blazer in North America after this year because the company wants its plant in Ramos Arizpe, Mexico, to produce only electric vehicles. The move, first reported by GM Authority, means “GM will no longer offer an internal combustion two-row midsize crossover in North America.” If you have your heart set on a Blazer, you can always get the electric version.
In case you missed it: Airbus has delayed its big plan to unveil a hydrogen-powered aircraft by 2035, citing the challenges of “developing a hydrogen ecosystem — including infrastructure, production, distribution and regulatory frameworks.” The company has been trying to develop a short-range hydrogen plane since 2020, and has touted hydrogen as key to helping curb the aviation industry’s emissions. It didn’t give an updated timeline for the project.
“If Michael Pollan’s basic dietary guidance is ‘eat food, not too much, mostly plants,’ then the Burgum-Wright energy policy might be, ‘produce energy, as much as you can, mostly fossil fuels.’”
–Heatmap’s Matthew Zeitlin on the new era of Trump’s energy czars
Chris Wright and Doug Burgum started their reign this week by amplifying the president and beating back Biden-era policies.
The Trump administration’s two most senior energy officials, Secretary of the Interior Doug Burgum and Secretary of Energy Chris Wright, are both confirmed and in office as of this week, and they have started to lay out their vision for how their agencies will carry out Donald Trump’s “energy dominance” agenda.
Where the Biden administration sought to advance traditional Democratic policy around public lands (namely, to expand, conserve, and preserve them) while also boosting the development of renewable energy, Burgum and Wright have laid out something of the inverse approach: Maximize the production of domestic energy and minerals, with a focus on fossil fuels, and to the extent non-fossil fuels are a priority, they should be “baseload” or “firm” power sources like nuclear, hydropower, or geothermal.
If Michael Pollan’s basic dietary guidance is “eat food, not too much, mostly plants,” then the Burgum-Wright energy policy might be, “produce energy, as much as you can, mostly fossil fuels.”
Burgum and Wright each laid out his philosophy in the form of secretarial orders, the agency equivalent of an executive order.
“Our focus must be on advancing innovation to improve energy and critical minerals identification, permitting, leasing, development, production, transportation, refining, distribution, exporting, and generation capacity of the United States to provide a reliable, diversified, growing, and affordable supply of energy for our Nation,” reads Burgum’s “Unleashing American Energy” order.
“The Department will bring a renewed focus to growing baseload and dispatchable generation to reliably meet growing demand,”reads Wright’s first secretarial order.
Burgum’s orders are largely Interior-specific elaborations of Trump’s early round of executive orders. In “Addressing the National Energy Emergency,” Burgum echoes Trump’s executive order declaring — you guessed it — a national energy emergency, calling for the department to “identify the emergency authorities available to them, as well as all other legal authorities, to facilitate the identification, permitting, leasing, development, production, transportation, refining, distribution, exporting, and generation of domestic energy resources and critical minerals.” He also criticizes the Biden administration for having “driven our Nation into a national emergency, where a precariously inadequate and intermittent energy supply, and an increasingly unreliable grid, require swift and decisive action.”
In another order, “Unleashing American Energy,” which follows a similarly titled executive order, Burgum cites the Trump administration’s call for deregulation to allow more extraction of energy commodities and energy production: “By removing such regulations, America's natural resources can be unleashed to restore American prosperity. Our focus must be on advancing innovation to improve energy and critical minerals identification, permitting, leasing, development, production, transportation, refining, distribution, exporting, and generation capacity of the United States to provide a reliable, diversified, growing, and affordable supply of energy for our Nation.”
The order calls for the Interior department to examine a number of Biden-era guidelines and rules, including 2024’s public lands rule, formally known as Conservation and Landscape Health, which went into effect last June. The rule put landscape preservation on a similar plane to energy development, mining, logging, or grazing among uses for public lands, and was opposed by a number of interest groups, including the ranching and energy industries.
It’s not just public lands that will be more open to fossil fuel exploration and extraction, it’s also the seas. Burgum issued an order following on Trump’s attempt to roll back restrictions on offshore drilling, notifying the department that “all Biden [outer continental shelf] withdrawals of the OCS for oil and gas leasing have been revoked.”
Two other orders were primarily deregulatory. One implemented the Trump guideline that “for each new regulation that they propose to promulgate, they shall identify at least 10 existing Department regulations to be eliminated.” And the other followed on Trump’s order opening up Alaska to more mining and energy extraction, which, among other actions, revoked a 2021 order cancelling oil and gas leases in the Alaska National Wildfire Reserve and reinstated a Secretary’s Order issued by then-Interior Secretary Ryan Zinkein 2017 opening up Alaska for more oil activity, which itself reversed a 2013 order limiting oil and gas development.
While Burgum’s orders focus on the energy potential beneath the ground and the sea, Wright’s first secretarial order is a celebration of energy writ large, consistent with his often articulated views on the subject. “Energy is the essential ingredient that enables everything we do. A highly energized society can bring health, wealth, and opportunity for all,” he writes.
The document starts by talking down net-zero goals, saying that “net-zero policies raise energy costs for American families and businesses, threaten the reliability of our energy system, and undermine our energy and national security.”
“Going forward,” it says, “the Department’s goal will be to unleash the great abundance of American energy required to power modern life and to achieve a durable state of American energy dominance.”
In Wright’s version of the “energy emergency” order, he commits the department to “identify[ing] and exercise[ing] all lawful authorities to strengthen the nation’s grid, including the backbone of the grid, our transmission system,” in order to deal with the “current and anticipated load growth on our nation’s electric utilities.” He also says the department will focus on “baseload and dispatchable generation to reliably meet growing demand” — i.e. natural gas, along with some geothermal, hydropower, and nuclear.
In keeping with the president’s hostility or indifference toward the most widespread forms of renewable energy generation, Wright writes that the DOE will focus its substantial research and development efforts on “affordable, reliable, and secure energy technologies, including fossil fuels, advanced nuclear, geothermal, and hydropower,” and specifically calls out the Department’s fusion research for focus: “The Department must also prioritize true technological breakthroughs — such as nuclear fusion, high-performance computing, quantum computing.”
Wright refers to the energy department’s considerable research on renewables through its network of national laboratories only via implication, with an eye toward containing the funding demands of such work. “The Department will comprehensively review its R&D portfolio,” the order says. “As part of that review, the Department will rigorously enforce project milestones to ensure that taxpayer resources are allocated appropriately and cost-effectively consistent with the law.” Not mentioned at all was the department’s Loan Programs Office, which the Biden administration fortified by means of the Inflation Reduction Act. Bloomberg News reported that the department is looking to roll back some of the office’s loan guarantees to ensure that its funding awards “are consistent with President Trump’s executive orders and priorities.”
One area where there may be consistency between the Biden and Trump energy departments is in support for nuclear power.
Throughout the order, nuclear energy gets called out for praise and attention, while other forms of non-carbon-emitting energy go unmentioned. “The long-awaited American nuclear renaissance must launch during President Trump’s administration. As global energy demand continues to grow, America must lead the commercialization of affordable and abundant nuclear energy. As such, the Department will work diligently and creatively to enable the rapid deployment and export of next-generation nuclear technology,” Wright writes.
Like Burgum, Wright takes a dim view of Biden-era regulatory initiatives, committing the department to reviewing proposals for liquefied natural gas terminals and promising a “comprehensive review of the DOE Appliance Standards Program.” Scrapping or overhauling appliance efficiency rules, like other envisioned Trump policies, would also help bolster demand for energy writ large.
The orders, while consistent with Trump’s broad directives on energy policy, do not match the vitriol and dismissiveness towards renewables that Trump himself employs. But that may be cold comfort to climate advocates and renewables developers. In Burgum’s and Wright’s philosophy, renewables have been given pride of place in government policies, effectively holding down fossil fuel resources — and that is going to change.
In one order, Burgum directs the department to ensure that its policies do not “bias government or private-sector decision making in favor of renewable energy projects as compared to oil, gas, or other mineral resource projects.” And neither he nor Wright appears to see little role for the fastest growing sources of generation — solar — in American “energy dominance.”
That is also in keeping with what Trump has been doing to achieve his energy priorities, as opposed to what he’s been saying about “unleashing American energy.” During the chaotic first few weeks of this administration, federal officials do not appear to have been treating fossil fuel and renewables equally so much as they have been scrambling to comply with executive orders by obstructing renewable permitting and then reversing themselves (unless, of course, it’s offshore wind).
As Trump’s energy policy finds its feet, we’ll find out if energy dominance is really just fossil fuel dominance.