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Does America actually need the renewable energy source to hit its decarbonization goals by 2030?

The Biden administration wants 30 gigawatts of offshore wind power capacity by the end of the decade and East Coast states have taken it upon themselves to do much of the work to get there. But as wind projects up and down the East Coast face problems — developers threatening to pull the plug unless they get more subsidies, higher costs, supply chain issues, local opposition, and possibly astroturfed concerns about whales — experts have questioned whether this goal can really be hit.
But it may not even be necessary to substantially decarbonize the American economy — or at least not by 2030.
The recent stream of news about offshore wind has been bad. Developers up and down the East Coast have been asking states for more money in order to continue deals they struck years ago, citing higher costs throughout the supply chain. A recent auction for offshore wind rights in the Gulf of Mexico was almost a total flop, with only two companies participating in the bidding.
The Danish wind developer Orsted said a few weeks ago that three of its U.S. offshore wind projects were “adversely impacted by a handful of supplier delays” and that “there is a continuously increasing risk in these suppliers’ ability to deliver on their commitments and contracted schedules,” adding up to a lengthening timeline and increased costs that could lead to billions of dollars of write-offs.
The company’s chief executive Mads Nipper, who is in a standoff with the Biden administration over its eligibility for further subsidies, has said they are willing to “walk away” from wind projects. The company said that its Ocean Wind 1 project, planned for the New Jersey coast, would be delayed from 2025 to 2026.
So what happens if offshore wind doesn’t materialize at the level once expected?
There are any number of reports and projections showing how the United States can transition to 100% carbon-free electricity and even a whole economy that contributes net zero greenhouse gas emissions, and they’re typically less optimistic about offshore wind than the Biden administration. Princeton’s Net-Zero America Project, for instance, forecast offshore wind capacity would be between three and 10 gigawatts by 2030 in five scenarios for reaching zero emissions by midcentury. It largely sees additional onshore wind and solar making up the difference.
In fact, the government’s own forecasts don’t really envision the U.S. hitting the 30 gigawatt figure either. The National Renewable Energy Lab’s analysis of how to reach 100% carbon-free electricity by 2035, which is the Biden administration’s nominal goal, projects that in the “mid-range” case, offshore wind production would hit 24 gigawatts by 2030. Both the Net-Zero Project and the NREL foresee massive offshore wind installation, just on a slower timeline than the administration.
“The 30 GW by 2030 offshore wind goal is definitely still within striking distance, thanks in part to investments like the Inflation Reduction Act and Bipartisan Infrastructure Law , as well as state-level policies,” Jocelyn Brown-Saracino, the Department of Energy's Wind Energy Lead, said in an emailed statement. “The actual size and speed of U.S. offshore wind build-out will depend on continued regulatory efficiency, the availability of installation vessels and port infrastructure, proactive onshore and offshore grid planning and upgrades, the successful commercialization of 15-MW wind turbine platforms, and sustained market demand. DOE and other federal agencies are working on a number of initiatives to accelerate efforts in these areas.”
And, at least until we build the grid of our dreams, eastern seaboard states need to get carbon-free energy from somewhere. They have collectively set goals for some 50 gigawatts of offshore wind capacity over the coming decades. In the Northeast especially, the desire for large amounts of offshore wind generation reflects a combination of ambition to decarbonize the states’ electricity systems and lack of other politically palatable options. New York, for instance, shut down its Indian Point nuclear power plant in 2021, taking 2,000 megawatts of carbon-free power off the grid, with the promise that offshore wind would soon replace it. It hasn’t yet.
Those states are not in the wind corridor that is the Great Plains or the sunny expanse of the Southwest. While residential and business solar has been more widespread than anticipated in New England, offshore wind has consistently been the energy source that was promised from the New York Bight to the Gulf of Maine.
And it makes sense why. The East Coast’s population centers are, well, near the coast, meaning the Atlantic’s shallow and windy waters an attractive option for energy development. And by building offshore, these states can avoid grueling fights over land use that accompany wind farm developments in rural areas far from where most of the states’ residents actually live. Offshore wind can also complement solar, as winds can pick up in the afternoon and evening as solar power falls off.
This has all added up to an odd situation, where the country’s immediate goals for decarbonization may actually be overserved by ambitious development plans that, as of now, seem to be imperiled.
According to the Department of Energy, over 50 gigawatts of offshore wind is in the so-called pipeline, but there are only a few projects that have been approved or are under construction.
“The Biden-Harris administration is using every legally available tool to advance American offshore wind opportunities and achieve the goal of 30 GW by 2030, including by approving the nation’s first major offshore wind projects and leveraging historic resources from the President’s Investing in America agenda to support offshore wind infrastructure and supply chain buildout,” White House spokesperson Michael Kikuawa said in an email when asked about the 30 gigawatt target.
BloombergNEF recently marked down its own projection for offshore wind capacity by the end of decade to just over 23 gigawatts of offshore wind capacity by 2030.
In New York, New Jersey, Massachusetts, and Connecticut, out of 13 gigawatts of planned offshore wind, developers for 10 gigawatts of it are seeking to get their contracts amended.
“Never say never,” Allegra Dawes, an associate fellow at the Center for Strategic and International Studies, responded when I asked if these state targets — or the national target — were plausible. “I wouldn’t say they’re impossible. They’re highly unlikely at state level and federal level.”
In those four states, which Dawes said were the furthest along in their planning (the Vineyard Wind project in Massachusetts is actually under construction), the current wrangling over contracts could end up delaying everything.
“Even if that means those projects don’t get cancelled, there will be significant delays,” Dawes told me. “Those delays add up. We’re talking about a short amount of time until 2030 and that pushes back the entire timeline.”
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Current conditions: The devastating 7.4-magnitude earthquake that struck Colombia has left at least 111 dead • Severe thunderstorms once again caused ground stops at New York City’s airports, stranding your correspondent at Chicago O’Hare for the entire afternoon • Tropical Storm Chan-Hom is battering Tokyo.
The United States sweltered through its hottest month in more than 130 years of analysis, breaking records set during the 1930s Dust Bowl. The average temperatures in the lower 48 states in July came out to 76.89 degrees Fahrenheit, 0.12 degrees above the value from July 1936. “Those who deny or dismiss U.S. climate change have hit a Waterloo moment of sorts,” wrote Yale Climate Connections.
The water levels in Lake Mead, meanwhile, have dropped to a record low as drought parches the American West. “This is a significant wake-up call,” J.B. Hamby, chairman of the Colorado River Board of California and the state’s lead negotiator, told The New York Times. “We need to have long-term solutions that are going to get us away from the precipice.”
For years, the world’s great powers have jockeyed for control of the Arctic as climate change thawed sea ice enough to open new shipping routes across the frigid polar region. Now China is poised to launch its first regular container shipping service through the frigid North. On Monday, the Financial Times reported that Sea Legend, a Chinese cargo vessel that delivers to ports in Turkey and North Africa, will begin weekly service through the Arctic with a route following Russia’s northern coastline. Beijing is calling the approach its “Ice Silk Road.”
The Trump administration, meanwhile, told researchers Monday that it would stop funding the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration's lead report on how climate change is affecting the Arctic, Politico reported.
The Trump administration won federal approval to reconsider the environmental review for the stalled Atlantic Shores offshore wind project off Atlantic City, New Jersey. Previously a joint venture between the French energy giant EDF and the oil behemoth Shell until the latter company pulled out following Trump’s reelection, the remaining developer had argued in court that the approval process completed under the Biden administration could not be reopened. While the company “points to various ways that it believes that Congress has limited” the Department of the Interior’s authority to reconsider a review, “none speak with the exquisite specificity to undercut” the government’s right to remand the approval, according to court documents Heatmap obtained last night. Acknowledging the potential for the White House to bog down the procedure in bureaucracy, the court said it will require the Trump administration to provide a status report for why a 120-day deadline for revisiting the review would not be possible. My colleague Jael Holzman had put the project on death watch last year.
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If you listened to any of Tesla’s recent earnings calls, you know that Elon Musk has a lot of big plans for the company that don’t involve luxury electric vehicles with large in-dash homescreens. The company wants to mass produce humanoid robots. It’s promised to basically double America’s output of solar panels. And it’s aiming to build a $16.8 billion chip factory to rival Taiwan’s semiconductor industry. Yet that facility won’t be powered by Tesla’s solar. Instead, Musk said that his other company, SpaceX, will set up batteries and natural gas to keep the lights on for the plant. “The plant sits on the site of a former coal-fired power plant, and SpaceX plans to power it with newly built natural gas plants and batteries,” Electrek reporter Fred Lambert wrote. “So the compute future gets built on the same fossil ground as the past. Just swap coal for gas.”
At the start of the Iran War, a four-dimensional chess interpretation of President Donald Trump’s motivations posited that the conflict was actually about asserting control over China’s supply of hydrocarbons. Six months into the war, The Economist has declared China “the world’s great oil power.” Despite relatively limited domestic supplies, the People’s Republic managed to seize control over its energy fate through stockpiling, restricting exports, and curbing domestic demand by, for example, encouraging city dwellers to take mass transit and or cycle over driving. Among the other ways Beijing is limiting demand, as I have written previously: It’s pouring money into green hydrogen, ammonia, and methanol.

Puerto Rico’s blackouts got worse last year without extreme weather bringing on the outages. The latest data from the U.S. Energy Information Administration shows that the island’s beleaguered ratepayers suffered an average of 36 hours of power interrupts that were not caused by major events such as hurricanes. That’s 19% more than in 2024. Between 2021 and 2025, Puerto Ricans experienced a combined average of 29 hours of power loss each year.
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.”