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This is the first story in a Heatmap series on the “green freeze” under Trump.
The renewables industry was struggling even before Donald Trump made his return to the White House. High interest rates, snarled supply chains, and inflation had already dealt staggering blows to offshore wind; California turned hostile to the residential solar market; and even as deployment of utility-scale solar accelerated, profits haven’t necessarily followed. (Those were still reserved for the fossil fuel industry.)
Then Trump came into office, issuing a barrage of executive orders that, at best, didn’t help, and at worst threatened to choke off the industry’s remaining avenues for growth. Now, Republican legislators are eyeing the Inflation Reduction Act for red meat to feed their tax cut machine; Elon Musk — himself the richest green tech entrepreneur of all time — is captaining an effort to slash the size of the federal government, particularly environmental programs; and the federal regulatory apparatus has essentially ground to a halt.
The early days of the Trump presidency have turned a clean energy slump into a kind of green freeze, with projects being cancelled and clean energy investors in many cases fixating on hypothetical policy changes, as opposed to the ins and outs of any given quarter. This creates a kind of trap for green energy companies, which are being punished in the immediate term for bad results while investors sit on the sidelines until the final resolution of the IRA comes into focus.
Speaking about the solar industry specifically, Morningstar analyst Brett Castelli told me that near term viability is not going to be about the specifics of any given company’s financial performance. “It’s going to be about how much the IRA is potentially changed.”
That’s likely the case across the green energy sectors. The iShares Global Clean Energy ETF, which tracks a number of renewables companies, is down 14% since November 5, and down 20% in the past year. “All businesses like certainty,” Castelli said. “The renewables market right now is facing a high degree of uncertainty in regards to what changes are coming to the IRA.”
But not every company has been affected equally. Those that were already flagging have been quick to blame the political environment, while others have gamely tried to explain to investors and the public how their lines of business align with the Trump administration’s priorities.
Executives at the residential solar company Sunnova — whose stock has fallen to below a dollar a share since it issued a “going concern” notice, essentially notifying investors that its existence as a company was under threat — mentioned “policy” or “political” or “politicians” six times in its earnings call last week. Chief Executive John Berger told an analyst that the reason for the going concern notice was that “the overall environment is terrible. I mean, it’s the political environment, the capital markets,” and that the company “struggled to close some things after the election.”
Berger stepped down Monday, and Sunnova’s former chief operating officer Paul Mathews immediately took over. Mathews “will focus on disciplined growth, stronger cash generation, cost efficiency, and enhancing the customer experience,” the company said.
Other companies have told investors and the public that they’re scrapping expansion plans, in many cases due to a policy change or a market change running downhill from policy.
“Manufacturing is probably where we see the biggest concern,” Maheep Mandloi, a stock analyst at Mizuho Securities, told me. “A lot of solar and battery projects are getting pushed out.”
Among them, battery manufacturer KORE Power, said in February that it was canceling a $1 billion battery project in Arizona. The Arizona facility was going to be supported with federal financing, specifically a loan from the Energy Department’s Loan Program Office for up to $850 million, but the conditional commitment never turned into cash in hand before the end of the Biden administration. Its new chief executive, Jay Bellows, told Canary Media that the company wanted to retrofit an existing facility into a battery plant instead.
Aspen Aerogels, which makes thermal barriers for batteries in electric vehicles, told investors in February that it wouldn’t move forward with a planned new plant in Statesboro, Georgia, and would instead “maximize capacity” at its Rhode Island plant. The company’s chief financial officer noted that it had already “decided to right-time” its Statesboro project in early 2023, “pre-empting a reset in EV demand expectations.”
And just last week, Ascend Elements, a battery materials company, said it was scrapping plans to manufacture cathode active material at its Hopkinsville, Kentucky plant, the Times Leader reported Thursday. Ascend said that it had agreed with the Department of Energy to cancel a $164 million grant that would support cathode active material (a key battery component) manufacturing, although a separate, $316 million grant for cathode precursor technology “remains active.”
But optimism still abounds — and it has nothing to do with any hopes about the fate of grants and tax credits under the IRA. Regardless of the law’s fate, the exuberance over artificial intelligence may prove to be an even greater subsidy.
In contrast to Sunnova, Sunrun — another residential solar company whose stock price has flagged since the election, but whose ability to stay in business has not been questioned — put a much more neutral spin on the political environment. Chief Executive Mary Powell told investors during the company’s earnings call in late February, “The fundamental long-term demand drivers for our business are incredibly strong and unrelated to any political party affiliation. Americans want greater energy independence and control of their lives and their pocketbooks. The country also needs more power from all sources to fuel rapid growth in electrification and data centers, and our growing fleet of energy resources will be part of the solution.”
Where once executives focused their rah-rah optimism on the declining costs of renewables, today they’re talking up their products’ quick path to deployment. The speed with which renewables can be built and switched on — especially solar and storage — compares favorably to the four-to-five year development timelines for new gas-fired plants. NextEra chief executive John Ketchum told analysts in a January earnings call “you can build a wind project in 12 months, a storage facility in 15, and a solar project in 18 months.”
That’s either the light at the end of the tunnel or the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow, depending on your level of fatalism or skepticism.
This oncoming demand could reignite the renewables industry even if it potentially loses access to generous IRA subsidies, Ben Hubbard, the chief executive of the infrastructure advisory firm Nexus Holdings, told me.
“The hyperscale datacenter demand is pretty massive, and when you have to really start massively upgrading your transmission and distribution infrastructure, those rates get passed on, unfortunately, to the average ratepayer like me and you and everybody else.” With higher rates, renewables could become profitable and investable on their own, without IRA subsidies, Hubbard said.
NextEra, a major renewables developer that also operates a natural gas fleet, has been one of the main promoters of the “speed to power” narrative. In its January earnings call, Ketchum told analysts, “We’re expecting load demand to increase over 80% over the next five years, six-fold over the next 20 years. And if you think about generation types and needing all of the above, they’re not all created equally in terms of timing.”
Although the Trump administration is seeking to unleash fossil fuel development, power plants don’t build themselves. They need, at the very least, turbines, and those gas turbines are not easy to get your hands on. As Heatmap has reported, manufacturer GE Vernova has only modest plans to increase capacity, and is already getting reservations for turbine slots in 2027 and 2028.
“With gas-fired generation, the country is starting from a standing start,” NextEra CEO Ketchum said on the earnings call. “We need shovels in the ground today because our customers need the power right now.”
Developers and investors hope this means that data center developers and utilities will become both voracious and omnivorous in their power demand.
“I think what you’re going to see is the big tech companies, especially, are going to just have to eat the cost if they want to win the AI race,” Hubbard told me. “They’re going to take natural gas fuel, and they’re going to take biomass power, and they’re going to take solar. They’re going to take it all, because it’s almost insignificant relative to getting ahead of AI demand.”
Most of the industry, however, is gamely working through an environment where their day-to-day business may be fine, but their investors are still in wait-and-see mode.
“The common feedback we hear from a lot of investors is, ‘I’ll just probably come back once the dust settles and I know exactly what things are going to change,” Mandloi told me.
That’s even as executives point to a glorious future of AI-driven electricity demand. But investors may be waiting to count their chips from the IRA before they’re willing to take a flyer on powering data centers that are yet to be built.
And there’s nothing certain about the AI boom, either. More computationally efficient Chinese models have thrown that energy narrative into doubt, driving down the share price of Nvidia, which makes the chips that consume all that data center power (along with the share prices of power companies with large natural gas fleets). That stock is down by almost 20% so far this year. If the chip designer’s AI profits are less than previously thought, the electron providers may have to settle for less, as well. Renewables companies are hoping the data center boom will be a case of “if you build it, they will come,” but investors aren’t yet quite willing to buy it.
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The president has paid $4 billion to kill projects that were already dying or dead.
At a certain level, it defies belief: The Trump administration is spending nearly $4 billion … for nothing.
It’s paid something for nothing at least five times now. Last week, the administration reached a $1.2 billion deal with the German energy company RWE to not build three wind farms, including a large installation off the coast of New Jersey. The Chicago-based developer Invenergy signed a separate deal in June. It’s not clear these deals are legal, yet they keep happening.
These agreements mark the formal end of the first American offshore wind boom, which began in the late 2010s and stepped up during the Biden administration. This buildout, alas, never quite found its sea legs. As recently as February 2022, you could squint at the horizon and imagine that 14 gigawatts of turbines might soon spin along the East Coast. Now, we’ll be lucky to get more than six gigawatts by the end of the decade.
That’s a lot of lost generation capacity — and as I’ve repeatedly written, its absence is going to be a problem for the northeastern United States. The Mid-Atlantic and New England, which were set to receive some of the largest offshore facilities, will still need a lot more new electricity in the years to come, especially during winters. (New York City, for instance, now avoids blackouts by relying on two aging barge-mounted power plants parked in the East River.) And while many of the developers who received President Trump’s payouts pointed to fossil fuel investments in their press releases — as if to imply that those other projects were “replacing” the lost wind farms — relatively few of the power plants mentioned will be built in the Northeast.
Yet there’s another weird aspect of these offshore deals that I haven’t focused on as much: Why are they happening in the first place? That’s the subject of a helpful new article published today by James Sallee, an economics professor at UC Berkeley. He observes that many of the offshore wind projects that the Trump administration has now paid to “cancel” were struggling financially long before January 20, 2025. Few of the farms, if any, would have been built under any administration. So why, exactly, is Trump paying off their developers?
Let’s roll the tape. More than four years ago, the Biden administration held the country’s largest offshore auction ever for a set of promising offshore-wind sites along the Atlantic coast. That brought in more than $4 billion; as part of it, a German company named RWE placed a record-shattering bid for a particularly promising area off New Jersey’s coast. The date? February 25, 2022.
As it turned out, that auction was not the most important thing that happened that week in global energy markets — or world history. A day earlier, Russian troops began their full-scale invasion of Ukraine, igniting a geopolitical firestorm that ultimately ushered in an era of tighter energy supplies, rampant inflation, and higher interest rates. Although the offshore developers could not have known it then, those three trends would reshape the economics of their projects. That’s because offshore wind farms — far more than solar, battery, or gas plants — require titanic upfront investment, as Sallee writes:
Offshore wind is extremely capital intensive: enormous costs come up front, while revenue arrives over decades. Inflation raised the cost of steel, turbines, vessels, and labor. Higher interest rates reduced the present value of future revenue and raised financing costs. Where developers signed fixed-price contracts, developers were left holding the capital cost risk when conditions changed.
Unit economics started to deteriorate, and costs ballooned. Projects started to fail as early as October 2023, when Orsted canceled its Ocean Wind 1 and 2 projects slated for the New Jersey coast. I remember talking to an energy expert at the time who mused that for the same per-megawatt cost as an offshore wind farm, the state might as well just build a new Westinghouse nuclear reactor. (Its governor Mikie Sherrill is now exploring doing just that.)
By the time President Trump took office, in other words, many offshore wind projects were already on financial life support, if not deceased. Given the real underlying shift in project economics, that should have decreased the value of developers’ offshore leases — which are, as Sallee writes, more of an option than a permit, because they give a developer the right to study an area but do not authorize construction per se.
Yet over the past year, the Trump administration has reimbursed five developers largely in full, and it hasn’t gotten much in return. Perhaps that’s what the administration needed to do in order to fully kill these projects without risk of future legal sanction. Yet it is … strange. “The deals relate to development rights that look uneconomic today, even before the buyouts,” Sallee says. “The buyouts may limit how quickly offshore wind could rebound in a future economic and policy environment, but as of today it seems as though the government just spent $3.9 billion of taxpayer dollars spent to shoot a corpse.”
I wonder if that description undersells it. In a certain light, the government isn’t really shooting the corpse so much as handing it big wads of cash. Since the first of these deals were announced, I’ve struggled with what to call them — buyouts? payouts? — but Sallee’s post (which you should go read in full) made me wonder if bailout is the best option. After all, imagine if a hypothetical President Kamala Harris had reimbursed this same set of companies for the full value of their failed offshore wind bets — and used the Justice Department’s permanent and technically unlimited Judgement Fund to do it. What would journalists say then? How would Republicans respond?
Or to make the analogy truly work, I suppose, imagine that a President Harris had bailed out oil companies for some overly exuberant bet made during an earlier Republican administration, then claimed (with dubious evidence) that they would use the refunds to build renewables. That would still be an enormous waste of public money, but it would scramble the politics somewhat, perhaps evoking astonished embarrassment from her allies and delighted confusion from her opponents. Which might — to return to our world — mirror some of the response we’re seeing to Trump’s wind payouts.
As electricity prices rise, the stakes for the leaders of states like Virginia, Pennsylvania, and Indiana are only getting higher.
Governors are increasingly throwing their weight around in the technocratic and often obscure utility ratemaking process. The latest example is Virginia Governor Abigail Spanberger, who last week published a Washington Post op-ed announcing that she would intervene in the attempted acquisition of the state’s dominant utility, Dominion, by Florida utility and energy development company NextEra Energy.
Spanberger is “deeply skeptical about whether selling our primary state-regulated utility to an out-of-state company is good for the commonwealth,” she wrote. While she didn’t go so far as to oppose the merger, she did insist that NextEra maintain jobs in the state, comply with Virginia’s clean energy goals, and come up with cost savings for Virginians. And while the state’s utility regulators will make the ultimate decision themselves, she said, she wanted to use her leverage as the state’s highest ranking and most visible elected official “to make sure Virginians have a voice in the process.”
It’s not unheard of for a governor to try to influence utility regulators by picking members of state utility commissions — or simply by haranguing them. But as electricity bills rise to their highest level ever, according to Heatmap and MIT’s Electricity Price Hub, governors in particular have started responding to pressure from voters to do something — anything — about it.
In New Jersey, Governor Mikie Sherrill won office in part by promising to freeze electricity rates — then used her influence over the utility regulators to make it happen.
In Indiana, Governor Mike Braun replaced the head of the state utility regulator after his predecessor agreed to a rate increase from the utility AES Indiana.
In North Carolina, Governor Josh Stein publicly called on the state’s dominant utility, Duke Energy, to reduce a rate increase request.
And the whole PJM Interconnection market, which includes Indiana, Virginia, and New Jersey, exists under a capacity price cap worked out in litigation initiated by Pennsylvania Governor Josh Shapiro, who has also led an effort alongside the White House to procure more generation and pressured the utility PECO to withdraw a rate case.
“Governor Shapiro is maybe the pioneer of this,” Eric Miller, the interim vice president of the states program at Evergreen Action and a former climate and energy official under former New Jersey Governor Phil Murphy, told me. “Legislators, they hear from their constituents about utility issues, whether it’s shut-offs or high prices. They go to their elected officials, and those elected officials engage with the governor’s office,” he said.
Utility regulation and ratemaking exists in a netherworld between public policy and private business. Most customers in the U.S. are served by investor-owned electric utilities, but the prices they pay are set by boards whose members are typically appointed by governors after a long, quasi-judicial process.
The process by which rates are set is wonky by design, with thousands of pages of filings and analysis explaining what costs need to be recovered at what rate paid by ratepayers. “Intervening” in a public service commission decision typically involves quietly slipping a document into a large docket, to be seen solely by utility regulators and lawyers (plus a few enterprising reporters.) To the extent the public or elected officials get to weigh in, it’s often through non-governmental advocacy groups or state officials designated as advocates for the public.
That governors are now openly taking responsibility for such a painfully bureaucratic process is “an indication of just how central utility rates are to overall energy affordability concerns that governors are hearing,” Jeff Dennis, executive director of the Electricity Customer Alliance and a former Department of Energy and Federal Energy Regulatory Commission official, told me.
With prices as high as they are, “the stakes are higher, and so the governors feel like in order to fulfill their campaign promises or their job as the top elected official in the state, that they’ve got to be directly heard,” he said. In Virginia, for example, typical bills have grown over 45% in the past five years, and by almost 12% in the past year alone.
When it comes to assigning responsibility for high electricity prices, Americans are most likely to blame their state government and their utility (and, increasingly, data centers), according to Heatmap polling.
Governors, who have a direct mandate from the public, can exert a unique countervailing force in a process that many critics argue is weighted towards utility interests. “Despite a lot of fences to prevent regulatory capture and rent seeking, it happens,” Miller said, “and having an executive weigh in directly can shake that up.”
There are risks, however, to governors getting more directly involved in the ratemaking process. One is that it could encourage short-term thinking, leading to measures that hold down prices at the expense of potentially necessary investments to maintain reliability or building out the infrastructure necessary to bring on new sources of power like wind and solar.
On top of that, “There’s certainly always a risk that the proceedings get more political,” Dennis told me. But he noted that ultimately, it’s utility commissions making the decisions, and they’re obligated to provide a record of filings and data to support their decisions.
Governors getting involved more formally could also have upsides, Dennis said, by shining a spotlight on the process that ultimately affects every resident and business in the state. “It brings a lot more spotlight to how utilities are making decisions about investments and how customers are impacted by those decisions, and I don’t think that that’s necessarily a bad thing.”
Governors also have a different set of mandates and responsibilities than the utilities do. While utilities have a mandate to provide reliable electric service — and thus spend whatever they can convince their regulators is necessary to do so — Miller argued that governors have to balance reliability and affordability for their constituents.
“The regulatory monopoly that utilities have is a political creation made by the elected officials in that jurisdiction.” Miller told me. “It is well within the authority of those same elected officials to decide to take a very hard look at whether that model is delivering the type of outcome that they want.”
A proposed change in how the agency implements an obscure Cold War-era law would impose onerous reporting requirements on renewables and pipelines.
Democrats in Congress claim that a new Trump administration proposal will have a chilling effect on the energy sector by subjecting renewables and fossil fuel pipelines alike to an obscure, rarely cited Cold War-era law requiring detailed information on foreign farmland ownership be submitted to the Agriculture Department.
In late June, the Agriculture Department released a proposal to change implementation of the Agricultural Foreign Investment Disclosure Act of 1978, which requires companies to provide information to the federal government on foreign investors in farmland holdings, acquisitions, and sales. If finalized, the new rule would expand the definition of “agricultural land” in regulation to include all renewable energy facilities and pipeline corridors by explicitly tying the term to those industries’ formal codes under the North American Industry Classification System.
Top Senate Democrats on Monday argued that taken together with expanded investor reporting thresholds and land boundary mapping requirements, this rule change “may exceed what is necessary” to deal with national security issues around farmland ownership.
One of the letter’s signatories, Pennsylvania’s John Fetterman, has previously joined the GOP in railing against foreign companies purchasing U.S. farmland as a potential national security concern. And indeed, there certainly exists a broader bipartisan anxiety around Chinese influence on essential industries, e.g. mining and critical minerals. That Fetterman is now joining climate hawks Martin Heinrich and Sheldon Whitehouse in opposing the administration’s move is a striking moment of unity, especially as Fetterman bats away beltway rumors that he’ll flip parties.
The letter demands a briefing from the Agriculture Department that includes the proposal’s “anticipated impacts on the energy, infrastructure, and agricultural sectors,” as well as the legal basis for changing its definition of “agricultural land.”
“[W]e are concerned that USDA’s proposed rule may exceed what is necessary to address those objectives, have unintended national security consequences, and may create substantial compliance burdens on agricultural producers, landowners, infrastructure operators, energy developers, and investors that could undermine efforts to address rising energy and food prices without a corresponding national security benefit,” the letter reads.
As I have previously written, the USDA is an increasingly vital organ in the Trump administration’s war on renewable energy projects, and focusing its laser beam at project development on what it calls “prime” farmland. Trump also recently tapped country music star John Rich to be his “special envoy for American landowners,” which directly led to the USDA working with people fighting solar on farmland in upstate New York.
The Trump change goes after pipelines as well as renewable energy, although logic suggests that solar development could be more vulnerable due to the sheer acreage often required for utility-scale project construction and property setbacks.
The Agriculture Department responded to my request for comment with a statement: “As Secretary [Brooke] Rollins has noted before, the regulations governing the Agricultural Foreign Investment Disclosure Act of 1978 are extremely outdated and need to be updated to better reflect today’s conditions. USDA looks forward to considering all public comments before finalizing the rule.”
Editor’s note: This story has been updated to include the statement from USDA.