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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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The Supreme Court agreed to hear Suncor Energy Inc. v. County Commissioners of Boulder County, which concerns jurisdiction for “public nuisance” claims.
A new Supreme Court case will test whether the Trump administration’s war on federal climate regulation also undercuts fossil fuel companies’ primary defense against climate-related lawsuits.
On Monday, the court agreed to weigh in on whether Boulder, Colorado’s climate change lawsuit against major oil companies is preempted by federal law. Now that the federal government has revoked its own authority to regulate greenhouse gases, the justices will have to consider whether there even is any relevant federal law to speak of.
The case is arriving at the nation’s highest court in a particularly fraught moment for climate regulation. The Supreme Court ruled back in 2007 that the EPA had authority to regulate greenhouse gases under the Clean Air Act, preventing states from creating a patchwork of their own emissions rules. The decision also shielded energy companies from federal common law “public nuisance” claims — lawsuits seeking damages for climate change caused by greenhouse gas emissions.
Earlier this month, however, Trump’s EPA essentially challenged that Court decision. It made an official determination that the Clean Air Act did not, in fact, allow it to regulate emissions that have such diffuse, global effects.
“By revoking their authority on this issue, EPA, in our view, is basically eliminating what otherwise would have been a protection for companies against these kinds of lawsuits,” Andres Restrepo, a senior attorney at the Sierra Club, told me. “That really opens them up to a lot of potential legal liability and creates a lot of uncertainty.”
The new Supreme Court case dates back to 2018, when the city and county of Boulder, Colorado sued multinational oil giant ExxonMobil and Suncor, which operates the largest refinery in the state, for damages from climate change, bringing the charges under Colorado law. The oil companies tried repeatedly to get the case dismissed, arguing that it belonged in federal court. But time and again, the courts disagreed.
The Supreme Court already rejected an earlier petition to review the question of whether the case belonged in state or federal court in 2023. Now it has agreed to consider a slightly different petition, filed last summer, over whether federal law preempts Boulder’s state-law claims.
The Trump administration was acutely aware that its deregulatory moves had the potential to kick up a hornet’s nest of challenges for fossil fuel companies, so it tried to get ahead of the issue. In revoking the endangerment finding, the EPA claimed that while it “lacks statutory authority to regulate GHG emissions in response to global climate change concerns,” this has no impact on state preemption under the Clean Air Act. The agency’s final rule cites a section of that law about motor vehicle emission and fuel standards which says that states cannot adopt rules “relating to the control of emissions from new motor vehicles or new motor vehicle engines subject to this part.” In the agency’s view, this section applies broadly to any type of emission from a vehicle, whether or not the agency itself is tasked with regulating it.
The EPA also asserted that the Clean Air Act continues to preempt public nuisance claims, arguing that the Supreme Court did not base its dismissal of such claims on the EPA actually exercising any regulatory authority. The logic gets very circular here. Preemption “is no less applicable where, as here, the EPA does not regulate because Congress has not authorized such regulation as within the scope of its legal standard for determining what air pollution is dangerous and subject to regulation,” the agency wrote in its response to public comments on its initial proposal on this issue, which it published last summer.
“It feels like a bad ex-boyfriend who says, I don’t want to date you anymore, but you can’t date those other people either,” Vicki Arroyo, a law professor at Georgetown University and former Biden administration EPA official, told me.
Before the EPA finalized its decision on the endangerment finding, industry players were skittish about the legal implications. The Edison Electric Institute, the largest trade group for electric utilities, has not responded publicly to the final endangerment finding determination. It did, however, flag legal concerns in comments on the proposed rule last September, implicitly disagreeing with the EPA’s assertion that preemption was safe. It noted that the EPA’s actions could cast doubt on whether greenhouse gas emissions “remain a regulated pollutant under the Clean Air Act” in the power sector. That, in turn, could increase the likelihood that the power sector will be “further exposed to competing and conflicting regulations through a patchwork of state regulations” in addition to “the potential for increased litigation alleging common-law claims,” such as causing a public nuisance.
Automakers have also been virtually silent on the EPA’s actions. The Alliance for Automotive Innovation, the largest trade association for vehicle manufacturers, has not issued a statement on the matter. In its comments on the proposed rule, the group neither welcomed nor condemned the move. Unlike the power industry group, the automakers eagerly agreed with the EPA that rescinding the endangerment finding would not change federal preemption of state rules. It did warn, however, that eliminating greenhouse gas regulations altogether would subject the industry to yet another “rapid and dramatic” swing in policy that “puts billions of dollars of capital investment at risk.”
The only industry group I’ve seen come out firmly against the EPA’s final rule is the Zero Emissions Transportation Association, whose membership includes both automakers such as Rivian and utilities such as Duke Energy. Albert Gore, ZETA’s executive director, said in a statement that rescinding the endangerment finding “pulls the rug out from companies that have invested in manufacturing next-gen vehicles across the United States.” He also warned that it “opens businesses up to unnecessary legal risk,” including “a complicated patchwork of state regulations, threats of costly tort litigation, and inconsistent rules between markets.”
Ken Alex, a former senior assistant attorney general of California, was unequivocal that the EPA’s decision would open new avenues for public nuisance climate lawsuits. These suits are based on a complicated area of law known as federal common law, which permits courts to craft rules in very limited situations that have not been addressed by Congress. Alex represented California in the seminal 2011 Supreme Court case American Electric Power v. Connecticut, which established companies’ protection from federal public nuisance claims over greenhouse gas emissions. That decision sprang from the Court’s earlier 2007 decision that the Clean Air Act covers greenhouse gas emissions — which the EPA is now contesting.
The Boulder case will test how the Court views the EPA’s policy reversal long before legal challenges to the Trump administration get a hearing. SCOTUSblog reports that the Supreme Court is likely to hear oral arguments in the case, known as Suncor Energy Inc. v. County Commissioners of Boulder County, as soon as this fall. While the Boulder case contains similar public nuisance allegations to the American Electric Power case, Boulder brought them under state law, which means the legal questions and implications will be slightly different.
As for the possibility of a “patchwork of state regulations,” that’s a long ways away, if it is even possible at all, Alex said.
If the Supreme Court agrees with the EPA that the Clean Air Act does not apply to greenhouse gases, then there’s an argument that states are not precluded from acting, he told me. But there’s a counter-argument that any state action to regulate tailpipe greenhouse gas emissions will necessarily impact tailpipe emissions of other pollutants, bleeding into areas where Congress has explicitly preempted states from operating. “That’s also a good argument,” Alex said. “So it’s not clear to me how that would come out.”
Regardless, if the EPA’s final rule makes it through the highest court — which, to be sure, is not a foregone conclusion — Alex had no question that states would try to act. They will still have to meet the Clean Air Act’s general limits on air pollution, and California, for instance, “cannot meet those requirements without mobile source control,” he said. “They’ve got no choice but to seek regulations.”
The Northeast is in the middle of its first true blizzard in years. That long gap wasn’t because of climate change, though.
Happy blizzard day, Northeast. While you might be (okay, or most definitely are) sick of the snow at this point, take comfort in the fact that this storm is different. It meets the definition of a true blizzard, in which a large amount of snow falls with sustained winds over 35 miles per hour and visibility reduced to less than a quarter of a mile for more than three hours. That’s a mouthful, all of which is to say: Complain away! You’ve earned it!
New York City hasn’t issued a true blizzard warning since 2017 — but that isn’t because of climate change. In fact, big, bad storms like this one might be getting even worse.
I spoke with Colin Zarzycki, an associate professor of Meteorology and Climate Dynamics at Pennsylvania State University, on Monday morning about what we can expect from winter storms in a warming climate. Our conversation has been lightly edited for clarity, and the snow-weary should proceed with caution.
I've read both that blizzards will increase in a warming world because the atmosphere can hold more moisture to make more snow, and also that, because it’s warmer, a lot of the precipitation will fall as rain instead of snow, so the storms will decrease. What does the research actually say?
Let’s back up for one second. Blizzards like we have in the Northeast today are a subset of nor’easters. We also call them mid-latitude or extra-tropical cyclones — you hear people talk about “low pressure,” “bomb cyclones.” At the end of the day, these are synonyms for storms that track up the East Coast of the U.S. and dump a lot of snow, particularly along the major metro corridor.
A blizzard is a special subset, where you have strong winds that blow the snow around. And that’s really problematic, because — have you experienced a lot of snowstorms?
I went to college in Vermont and lived in New York City for 10 years, so I’m familiar with snow.
I ask because, every once in a while, you talk to someone from, like, Miami, and they’re like, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” But during these strong wind events, blowing snow reduces the visibility. That’s very bad for transportation like aviation, but also just driving on highways and roads.
I want to be careful, because there’s been less work done on the wind side of things. The broad consensus is that if you measure nor'easters as a function of their low pressure — which is somewhat analogous to wind speed; they’re not exactly related, but they’re pretty close — there actually doesn’t seem to be a huge shift. For every storm that comes up the East Coast and turns into a bomb that’s blowing 80-mile-an-hour winds, the distribution of the wind looks pretty similar across different climates, whether cooler or warmer.
What you’re referring to about the precipitation: — this is the thing we’re most confident in the science [of]. If you make the very simple argument — which admittedly, our models indicate it is not a bad argument — that if the number of nor’easters that move up the coast stays relatively constant and the intensity of them doesn’t change a lot as measured by wind speed, but if the atmosphere is warmer and can hold more water vapor, then the rates of what’s coming out of the sky essentially increase.
Now if you’re thinking, “Okay, well, that’s snow,” then yes. If you could take this storm and put it in a time machine and move it 50 years from now, and if the atmosphere is 2 degrees [Celsius] warmer, then you’re going to have more precipitation coming out of the sky, all other things being equal.
But you mentioned the other tricky thing that complicates life. When climate scientists think about precipitation in, let’s say, Florida, where it doesn’t snow at all, it generally all just goes one way: It gets warmer, it rains harder. But in the Northeast, we have two things that compete with each other. On the one hand, precipitation increases, as we just discussed. But then obviously, if it warms, more of these storms are likely to produce rain rather than snow.
If you look at just the average number of snowstorms in a warmer world, whether you’re comparing today relative to 1850, or if you’re looking at today and trying to figure out what’s going to happen in 2100, in general, the warmer it gets, the less total snow and the less total number of snowstorms because more of them become rainstorms. The tricky thing is, the decrease really only happens with the weaker snowstorms, the nuisance types.
So if we still get periods in warmer climates where it’s cold enough to snow, and now we’ve turbocharged the atmosphere’s ability to hold moisture by warming, then what we’ve actually done is make it so that when it does snow, it snows harder. In general, we expect to see fewer overall snowstorms when it’s warming, which is very consistent with what we’ve seen in observations in the Northeast U.S. If you look at any major metro area and you plot snow since 1950 it’s generally been on a downslope. But these big blizzard-type storms aren’t going away.
The jury is out as to whether the most, most, most, most extreme snowstorms become a little more extreme. But the big take-home message is that the frequency of big nor’easters isn’t going away, even if the climate warms.
There has been a lot of talk about this being the first blizzard to hit New York City in nine years. I don’t think I can remember a storm quite like this from when I was living there. Is that because this is the most extreme version you’re referring to, that we haven’t seen as often?
If you were to ask someone who has lived in New York City since the 1950s, they would probably tell you that this is a bad snowstorm, but that they’ve seen similar ones. I’m not an expert on the history of New York City weather, but there were a couple of big storms, I think, in the 1970s that were analogous to this, if not a little worse.
What is unique about this storm is that we really haven’t seen one of these tight coastal blizzards this year. We had that storm that came through earlier this year, which also brought a decent amount of snow to New York, but it tracked across the country rather than forming right off the coast and moving up that direction. This one is dragging snow across New York City and Boston; it’s a very classic Northeastern U.S. blizzard.
I think the main aspect is that we have been in a period of luck. We haven’t had these storms as frequently in the past. Some of it goes to that kind of dice-rolling thing with the temperatures. But if you look over the last 10 years, I would assume it’s not that New York City has been nice and sunny and calm in the winter. It’s that you’ve had these wintertime cyclones, but it’s been a lot more rain, or wet, rainy, sleety snow. It hasn’t been cold enough air to really lock in the blizzard conditions.
My understanding is that blizzards are specific atmospheric events in which the wind speed must exceed 35 miles per hour and visibility is limited. How difficult is that to capture in the data? I know from my reporting on tornadoes that it can be really difficult to capture wind events. How do you study this?
The fancy word in climate science is “compound extremes,” and a blizzard is a form of a compound extreme where you have multiple hazards at the same time. Add one layer on top of another, and the more there are, the harder it is to get information out of the data.
Especially in densely populated areas like the Northeastern U.S., blizzards are fairly tricky to look at. When you read the National Weather Service’s definition of a blizzard, it’s like, “It has to be snowing, and you have to have sustained winds, and you have to have decreased visibility.” All of those mean you’re adding layers of complexity to the data.
Tornadoes are a little similar; they’re a discrete phenomenon, and you need specific ingredients to all line up, and there’s also an observation problem. It’s somewhat analogous to blizzards: I could be at JFK Airport in New York, which is right on the ocean. There’s not a lot in the way to slow down the winds. Especially if you have drier snow, it’s very easy for it all to blow around. If I’m a guy working at JFK, I’m saying, “This is really bad, it’s really windy, the snow is coming down, and we can’t see anything. We have to shut everything down.” But put yourself in Midtown or somewhere where you’re surrounded by buildings and a little further away from the ocean, then suddenly the winds might be reduced because you have more obstacles that can slow it down. You’re experiencing the exact same storm, but the impacts are very different.
You said at the beginning that the underlying assumption is that nor’easters will continue at the same rate they’re happening now. Is there anything I should know about the way climate change is impacting those events?
Precipitation is the main thing. There’s been some work on the frequency and track of the storms, and we’ve seen small changes. But we also have a sample-size problem. The more you want to focus on the intense storms, the less you have in your records, and the more challenging it is to tease out what’s going on. That’s one of the reasons I really like models.
So maybe, if you squint, you can see some small changes in the frequency or the track, but it’s on the order of 5% to 10% per year. But the number of nor’easters we actually get in a given winter is not small; depending on how you want to classify it, it’s something like 10 to 15 any given winter. They don’t all produce a lot of snow; some of them go offshore, and if you’re sailing a boat in the middle of the ocean, then you’d be like, yeah, this is a big problem. But generally, we have very high confidence in understanding the precipitation, and decent confidence in understanding how the rain-snow partitioning changes. The winds, I think, are kind of an open question. But we’re talking secondary effects relative to the precipitation for all of them.
Is there anything else I should know about blizzards and climate change?
I do interviews every winter about bomb cyclones and big storms. The fact that I do multiple interviews a winter implies that the storms themselves are not anomalous. If you actually count them, you end up with a decent number. You just need the dice to come up snake eyes — all the ingredients need to line up for it to be something impactful. And that’s what’s happening now.
What climate change does is change the underlying probabilities and distributions. But at the end of the day, the main thing that actually drives what’s going on with these storms is, can the atmosphere put the Lego pieces together for these impacts? Every cyclone that we get during the winter, if you go back and look at the historical record, there’s plenty of evidence for these types of storms.
On the California atom, Russian nuclear theft, and Taiwan’s geothermal hope
Current conditions: A blockbuster blizzard blanketed the Northeast in up to 2 feet of snow, trigger outages for nearly 500,000 households • Hot, dry Harmattan conditions are blowing into Nigeria out of the Sahara, leaving the capital, Abuja, and the largest city, Lagos, roasting in nearly 100 degrees Fahrenheit • Much of South Australia, the Northern Territory, and Victoria are bracing for severe thunderstorms and flooding.

By the end of this year, U.S. developers are on pace to add 86 gigawatts of new utility-scale generating capacity to the American grid. Just 7% of that will come from natural gas. The other 93%? Solar, batteries, and wind, according to the latest inventory by the Energy Information Administration. Utility-scale solar projects alone will provide 51% of the new generating capacity, followed by batteries at 28%, and wind at 14%. Critics of renewables, such as Secretary of Energy Chris Wright, would point out that generating capacity does not equal generation, and that as has happened recently, gas, coal, and nuclear power may well end up pumping out a lot of the electricity this year. But rapid expansion of renewables and batteries comes largely despite the Trump administration’s efforts to curb the growth of what top officials dismiss as “unreliable” sources of power. Surging electricity demand from data centers has left gas turbines backordered; geothermal plants are still at an early stage; and new nuclear reactors are still years away. That makes solar and wind, already some of the cheapest sources to build, the only obvious options to bring new generation online as quickly as possible. In a sense, Trump may have helped nudge 2026’s boom into existence by phasing off federal tax credits for renewables this year, spurring a rush to get projects started and lock in the writeoffs.
That doesn’t mean the solar, battery, and wind sectors aren’t facing steep challenges. Just last week, Heatmap’s Jael Holzman rounded up four local fights on opposite coasts, including over a big solar farm in Oregon.
California could consider building anything from a large-scale Westinghouse AP1000 to a next-generation microreactor if a new bill to clarify the state’s ban on new nuclear power plants passes into law. On Friday, Assemblymember Lisa Calderon, a Democrat from Southern California, introduced AB2647 to modify the state moratorium put in place in 1976, three years before the Three Mile Island accident, to allow for construction of modern nuclear reactors. The legislation would exempt all reactor designs certified by the Nuclear Regulatory Commission after January 1, 2005. That clears the way for an AP1000, which was approved in 2006, and today is the only new design in commercial operation in the U.S., or any of the new small modular reactors and microreactors now racing to come to market. The bill is bringing together disparate factions in the California legislature. Progressive Assemblymember Alex Lee co-sponsored the legislation, while Senator Brian Jones, the highest ranking Republican in the state’s upper chamber, is backing a Senate version of the legislation.
Since Friday, I can report exclusively in this newsletter, the bill has two new supporters. Patrick Ahrens, a Silicon Valley-area Democrat, has signed on as a backer, and the Sheet Metal Workers union has said it would support the bill. “Pinching myself,” Ryan Pickering — a reactor developer and Berkeley-based activist who helped lead the successful campaign to cancel the closure of the state’s last plant, the Diablo Canyon nuclear station — responded when I texted him to ask about the bill. “California has an epic history in nuclear energy. We built 11 reactors across this state and once envisioned up to 14 gigawatts of nuclear electricity. This technology is part of our inheritance as Californians,” he said. “Assembly Bill 2647 gives California the opportunity to begin building nuclear energy again.”
If you have ever crossed the Queensboro Bridge from Manhattan’s 59th Street over to Long Island City in Queens, you have no doubt seen the Ravenswood Generating Station. The four candycane-colored smokestacks of New York City’s largest power plant, a more than 2-gigawatt facility equipped to burn both fuel oil and natural gas, rise on the lefthand side of the bridge, looming over the East River. Just a few years ago, its owner, LS Power, envisioned transforming the plant through a subsidiary called Rise Light and Power, which aimed to build a large-scale battery hub fed by new transmission lines connecting the facility to nearby offshore wind farms and onshore turbines upstate. Now, as Heatmap’s Emily Pontecorvo reported in a Friday scoop, the company is selling Ravenswood to the Texas energy giant NRG. It’s not yet clear what the sale means for the so-called Renewable Ravenswood plan, which Emily wrote was already “hanging by a thread.”
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Since the start of its invasion of Ukraine, Russia has maintained clear designs on the Zaporizhzhia nuclear plant. Europe’s largest atomic generating station, located in an occupied province of eastern Ukraine, has been offline for the past four years. But, in a bid to shore up on the Kremlin’s desired war prizes as peace negotiations sputter, Russia’s nuclear regulator Rostekhnadzor has issued a 10-year operating license for Unit 2 of the plant. In its announcement, NucNet reported Friday, Rostekhnadzor said the move would open the door to building more Russian nuclear plants in the region. Rosatom, Moscow’s state-owned nuclear company, has submitted an application for an operating license for Unit 6, and aims to do the same for units 3, 4, and 5 by the end of this year.
The neighboring country most eager to contain Russia, meanwhile, took a big step toward building its first nuclear plant. The Supreme Administrative Court in Poland, whose debut facility is going with American technology, rejected an environmental complaint aimed at halting construction of AP1000 reactors at the site on the Baltic sea.
Earlier this month, I told you about Equinor’s plans to scale back its investments in carbon capture and sequestration, despite Norway’s world-leading progress on pumping captured CO2 back underground. Now the Norwegian energy giant is quitting on one of the European Union’s landmark projects to prove hydrogen fuel can be produced at scale using natural gas equipped with CCS. The company last week abandoned a gigawatt-sized blue hydrogen plant in the Netherlands as demand for the fuel stalls. Some may welcome the blue hydrogen recession. As Heatmap’s Katie Brigham wrote last year, a major blue hydrogen plant in Louisiana had been poised to add more emissions than it saved.
Things are looking sunnier in South America for green hydrogen, the carbon-free version of the fuel made from blasting freshwater with enough renewable electricity to separate out H from H2O. Colombia just completed a feasibility study on the country’s first industrial-scale green hydrogen project, set to generate 120,000 metric tons of green ammonia per year at a remarkably low price, according to Hydrogen Insight. At the opposite end of the continent, Uruguay’s 1.1-gigawatt green hydrogen-fueled methanol plant last week lined up a major offtaker that plans to buy the chemical to make lower-carbon gasoline. The purchaser? A fuel company based in a major artery of European trade, Germany’s Port of Hamburg.
Taiwan is in an energy crisis. The self-governing island, whose “silicon shield” against China is predicated on its capacity to manufacture enough energy-intensive semiconductors to be invaluable to the global economy, shut down its last nuclear reactor last year. By exiting atomic energy while struggling to build offshore wind turbines, the government in Taipei has rendered Taiwan almost entirely dependent on imported fuels. In an age when, as Russia has shown in Ukraine, blackouts are key weapons, the People’s Liberation Army need only make liquified natural gas dangerous to ship through the Taiwan Strait to cause blackouts. But geothermal power, development of which stalled out after the 1970s, offers a unique tool for Taiwan. Located on the Pacific Rim, the island has lots of hot rocks. Now it finally has a growing geothermal industry again, too. The CPC Corporation Taiwan said just before Lunar New Year started last week that it had just started generating power from the 5.4-megawatt Yilan Tuchang Geothermal plant. While small, it’s now the largest geothermal plant in Taiwan.