You’re out of free articles.
Log in
To continue reading, log in to your account.
Create a Free Account
To unlock more free articles, please create a free account.
Sign In or Create an Account.
By continuing, you agree to the Terms of Service and acknowledge our Privacy Policy
Welcome to Heatmap
Thank you for registering with Heatmap. Climate change is one of the greatest challenges of our lives, a force reshaping our economy, our politics, and our culture. We hope to be your trusted, friendly, and insightful guide to that transformation. Please enjoy your free articles. You can check your profile here .
subscribe to get Unlimited access
Offer for a Heatmap News Unlimited Access subscription; please note that your subscription will renew automatically unless you cancel prior to renewal. Cancellation takes effect at the end of your current billing period. We will let you know in advance of any price changes. Taxes may apply. Offer terms are subject to change.
Subscribe to get unlimited Access
Hey, you are out of free articles but you are only a few clicks away from full access. Subscribe below and take advantage of our introductory offer.
subscribe to get Unlimited access
Offer for a Heatmap News Unlimited Access subscription; please note that your subscription will renew automatically unless you cancel prior to renewal. Cancellation takes effect at the end of your current billing period. We will let you know in advance of any price changes. Taxes may apply. Offer terms are subject to change.
Create Your Account
Please Enter Your Password
Forgot your password?
Please enter the email address you use for your account so we can send you a link to reset your password:
Is the East Coast’s most abundant source of renewable energy too expensive?

You may have heard about the problems offshore wind projects are having with whales — specifically the coalition of coastal homeowners, right-wing advocacy groups, the fishing industry, and Tucker Carlson that’s been promoting speculative claims about turbines killing them. But opposition to renewable energy is nothing new. A much bigger problem for offshore wind is less TV-friendly, but much more serious: It’s more expensive than originally thought.
Up and down the East Coast and even in Britain, offshore wind projects have been delayed or even cancelled thanks to costs rising faster than expected.
Until this summer, offshore wind had seem primed for a big breakout. The Biden White House has set a goal for 30 gigawatts of offshore wind by 2030. Many states, especially in the Northeast, are also relying on offshore wind to do much of the work decarbonizing their electric grids. With ample coastline and relatively little open space compared to the wind corridor of the Great Plains, these states envision large offshore wind sites delivering about a gigawatt of power from massive turbines that are far enough away to be hardly visible from the shore but close enough to major population centers to avoid some of the interconnection and transmission issues that plague renewable development.
Yet instead of a breakout, there’s been a constriction.
Just this week, the utility Rhode Island Energy pulled the plug on its Revolution Wind II project, a planned 884-megawatt wind farm that could have powered 500,000 homes. It only attracted a single bidder, a joint venture between Orsted and Eversource.
In Massachusetts, the companies behind Commonwealth Wind, a planned 1,200 megawatt project, asked in December to get out of a power purchase agreement with state utilities, citing higher costs. This week the companies agreed to pay $48 million in termination penalties.
New Jersey legislators passed a bill earlier this month to direct federal tax credits to Orsted, the developer of its Ocean Wind I project, leading the developer of another wind project to ask for “an industry-wide solution,” saying that “[t]ens of thousands of real, well-paid and unionized jobs are at risk. Hundreds of millions in infrastructure investments will be forgone without a path forward.”
And in New York in June, offshore wind developers, responsible for over 4,000 megawatts worth of planned projects, petitioned the state’s Public Service Commission for more money, citing inflation.
This is a lot of lost capacity. Amazingly, there are still only two operational offshore wind projects in the United States, adding up to just 42 megawatts — about 0.14% of what the Biden administration wants installed by the end of the decade and less than 2% of the offshore wind capacity of Belgium. The American Clean Power Association estimated in May there were 50 gigawatts worth of projects in some stage of development, albeit with a small fraction actually under construction and the majority in “early development.” But now that pipeline has gotten a little longer and a lot more expensive.
“I’m actually pretty concerned over some of the cost dynamics that we’ve seen in terms of longer term impacts in terms of pace and scale we can deploy,” Allegra Dawes, a fellow at the Center for Strategic and International Studies, told me.
Rhode Island Energy said the bid for its Revolution Wind II project would not “reduce energy costs," essentially meaning what the utility would have to charge its customers to pay for the construction wouldn’t ultimately be worth it. Rhode Island Energy specifically cited “[h]igher interest rates, increased costs of capital, and supply chain expenses, as well as the uncertainty of federal tax credits” as “all likely contribut[ing] to higher proposed contract costs. Those costs were ultimately deemed too expensive for customers to bear.”
The surge in costs has put developers into a difficult spot, explained Dawes. “They look at projects and the agreed upon price and are not seeing a path to profitability.”
While Orsted, the project developer for the cancelled Rhode Island project (and several other East Coast wind projects), was optimistic about the deal earlier this year, its executives have been clear-eyed that the industry has seen costs go up.
“We believe that generally we are operating in an industry which is clearly realizing that the conditions have changed both in terms of cost of capital and the Capex inflation,” Orsted’s Chief Executive Mads Nipper said in the company’s May call with analysts. The company's Chief Financial Officer Daniel Lerup further warned, “It is our clear expectation that we will see prices go up in the coming auctions.”
Analysts and the industry have blamed a bevy of factors for costs growing. Higher interest rates drive financing costs up. There’s also the higher costs for materials like steel, which wind developers blamed both on generalized inflation and specifically the Russian invasion of Ukraine, which led to price spikes across all sorts of commodities.
Last year, major wind turbine manufacturers hiked their prices, which Commonwealth Wind blamed in a December filing to get out of an agreement with the Massachusetts utilities that would buy power from its wind project.
“The prolonged war in Ukraine has unsettled markets and increased costs for many products, inflation has been persistent, interest rates have increased in a manner unprecedented in recent times, commodity prices have risen sharply, and supply shortages and supply-chain constraints once thought to be temporary remain pervasive ... Simply put, it is now far more expensive to construct the Project than could have been reasonably foreseen even earlier this year,” Commonwealth Wind said in its December filing.
The cost issues were so dramatic that the companies were willing to pay some $48 million in fees. But that doesn’t mean that ratepayers are out of the woods. The companies are expected to re-bid on the projects at a higher price.
These problems aren’t distinct to the East Coast. The Swedish energy company Vattenfall said Thursday it was cancelling a planned wind project in the North Sea due to 40 percent cost increases. “Higher inflation and capital costs are affecting the entire energy sector, but the geopolitical situation has made offshore wind and its supply chain particularly vulnerable,” its chief executive Anna Borg said in in the company’s interim financial report.
None of this bodes well for the future of offshore wind. Thanks to larger turbines and stronger winds, offshore windfarms tend to produce more of their potential power than onshore wind or solar, but building them is also more logistically complicated and expensive. They thus require hefty financing — Vineyard Wind, for example, secured a $2.3 billion construction loan in 2021 — and can be quite sensitive to the cost of financing, i.e. interest rates.
If offshore windfarms can't show how they‘ll eventually recuperate these investments, coastal areas around the world may lose a vital source of renewable energy — or their residents will pay the price.
Log in
To continue reading, log in to your account.
Create a Free Account
To unlock more free articles, please create a free account.
A letter from Day 2 of New York Climate Week.
Utilities sit at an uneasy intersection between private company and public service. Typically, it’s quite a profitable place to be: Investor-owned utilities get to be monopolies in order to provide electric service in a particular geography and then charge government-approved rates. But that also places them on the front lines of the consumer and political backlash to rising electricity prices.
Those prices are likely to continue to rise. The energy advocacy group PowerLines estimates that in 2025, electric and gas utilities requested some $31 billion worth of rate hikes. Spending on that scale translates into higher rates for consumers as utilities pass along their development costs to their rate base. S&P Global projects that electric and gas utilities will undertake $1.3 trillion in capital expenditures through 2030.
Utility executives are as much politicians as they are operators, as their entire corporate existence depends on a government relationship. So it was no surprise that Calvin Butler, chief executive of Exelon, the utility holding company with around 11 million customers spanning from the Chicago area to the Atlantic Seaboard, was speaking at an event on the sidelines of the United Nations General Assembly hosted by the foreign policy think tank the Atlantic Council on the same agenda as the foreign ministers of Spain and Romania and the prime minister of Syria.
As all this was going on, the White House and Congress appeared to be in the end stages (or at least the beginning of the end stages) of hashing out a deal on permitting reform. While the investor-owned utility trade group the Edison Electric Institute has been publicly supportive of a permitting deal since last year, several industry and policy insiders tracking the deal have told me this week that utilities’ relative political weakness is one reason why a deal might pass.
Get Heatmap in your inbox daily.
That’s because an effective reform to transmission and permitting — especially to interregional transmission planning — could threaten utilities’ spending on serving their own individual territories.
“They are gonna get smoked in the Senate permitting deal,” one energy industry figure following the negotiations told me. When I asked why utilities aren’t opposing a deal, the insider told me, “They need too much from [the Department of Energy] the next few years. They can’t oppose this.”
(I sent a request for comment to EEI, which didn’t respond by press time.)
Butler didn’t weigh in permitting reform — I submitted a question at the event, but alas, it went ignored — but he was straightforward about the importance of maintaining good community and political relationships in the face of rising prices.
“We have to be connected to talk about siting of transmission, distribution lines, or substations. It’s what we do. I always say this: All politics is local,” Butler said. When it comes to local politics, Butler said that Exelon is at the “forefront of advocating responsible growth, responsible build-out, and community benefits agreements that benefit those communities.”
Butler also assigned some blame for the electricity price backlash to data centers and the technology industry, pointing to “people’s concern with AI, people’s concern that they’re going to lose jobs.” The tech industry, he said, “lost the narrative up front, and it’s tough to get it back.”
In the minds of the public and local government figures, however, utilities are very much a part of that story. Several governors or utility regulators in territories served by Exelon have opposed their rate increase requests, especially Pennsylvania Governor Josh Shapiro, who demanded that Exelon subsidiary PECO withdraw a rate case, in a move he claimed saved ratepayers $510 million. North Carolina regulators also rejected a more than $500 million gas project proposed by Duke Energy, calling its price “staggering.”
When it came to how utilities affect everyone in their territory through the prices they charge, Butler was more direct and less cheery than his talk about community benefits. When asked if Exelon could “strengthen the grid” without raising prices, Butler plainly said, “No, you can’t.”
“We’re investing $41.7 billion,” he added. “I’m a part of that increase.”
An investor argues that climate tech should learn to stop worrying and love the robots.
For three years the entire conversation about artificial intelligence in the climate tech and clean energy communities has been about demand. This, of course, is reasonable. The scale of what the world is building right now has no precedent. Amazon, Google, Meta, and Microsoft together spent more than $420 billion on data center infrastructure in 2025, a number dwarfed by the $745 billion they’re expected to spend in 2026. The McKinsey Global Institute puts the global data center buildout through 2030 at $7 trillion — more than the New Deal, the Marshall Plan, and the Apollo program combined.
About 15% to 20% of that unfathomable spending is going exclusively to power the data center scale-up. By 2030, data centers will consume between 3% and 5% of all electricity generated on Earth.
The carbon cost is worse than the financial cost. Google's total greenhouse gas emissions rose by more than 50% in 2024 compared to five years earlier, even as the company worked harder than any of its peers to source clean power. In Armstrong County, Texas, the company is working with developer Crusoe Energy on a nearly gigawatt-scale natural gas plant to power its Goodnight data center campus.
But here is something else to consider: In 2024, Google ran a 17-week trial on 2,400 transatlantic American Airlines flights using a system designed to predict and avoid the formation of contrails. Contrails are the ice crystal trails left by jet engines that account for roughly a third of aviation's total warming impact — more than the impact of the fuel burning. The AI model rerouted flights slightly to avoid the atmospheric conditions that produce persistent contrails, and in doing so, cut contrail formation by 62% without any meaningful increase in fuel burn.
Around the same time, Microsoft used its Azure Quantum Elements platform to sift through 32 million possible chemical candidates for new battery chemistries, and in 80 hours narrowed the field to a handful of promising compounds that could reduce the amount of lithium required by as much as 70%. Meta, working with Georgia Tech, built one of the largest open-source datasets for discovering better sorbent materials for direct air capture, the process of pulling carbon dioxide directly from the atmosphere. Researchers ran nearly 40 million quantum mechanics calculations across 8,400 candidate materials, looking for those that could grab CO2 efficiently without also absorbing water from the air.
All of these things happened in the past two years. They were largely invisible to consumers. Yet they produced meaningful, even transformative climate benefits. Crucially, they cost almost nothing compared to the AI infrastructure buildout. They were side projects, pursued by teams whose quarterly numbers did not depend on their product’s success.
I argued two years ago in an interview with Heatmap that the steep financial and carbon costs of the AI buildout are worth it, and that if we stick with it, the power of AI will quickly yield innovative solutions to address climate change. But the opposition to data centers and AI deployment has created a frustrating paradox. A sector that has spent years describing a technology primarily as a threat — to the grid, to society, to humanity itself — will not, at the end of that time, be in a strong position to invest in what that technology can build. The sector wrote itself into the role of the regulator and critic at precisely the moment it should have been adopting the role of the main customer.
In the first half of 2026 alone, investors put $407 billion into AI startups, Pitchbook calculated. Climate tech, over the same stretch, did fine: $26.1 billion, according to CTVC’s insights report, up 55% year-over-year, the strongest first-half investment numbers since 2022. But low-carbon data centers alone took 34% of it, and two of the sector’s biggest deals were both for data center infrastructure. We essentially took an historic year of climate tech investment and used it to become AI's electricity supplier.
This is definitely a net positive, and critical to a clean hyperscale movement. But there’s more to be done.
Roughly one climate venture dollar in five went to something AI-enabled in 2025, which is a real increase from previous years. But out of $40 billion total climate tech investment last year, that amounts to only about $8 billion. Set that against the $242 billion that went into AI startups in a single quarter — the world's entire annual investment in AI for climate is roughly what AI startups raised every three days at the start of this year.
The three breakthroughs I mentioned at the beginning of this article are just the beginning of what AI can do for the climate — in many cases they’re the easy breakthroughs. They’re prediction, search, and optimization problems where the AI is essentially a faster pair of eyes.
The larger prize is what my colleagues at Obvious Ventures and I have come to call “generative science.” These are models trained in chemistry, physics, and biology that can propose genuinely novel arrangements of atoms rather than merely sorting through existing ones. This is where we unlock nuclear fusion, carbon-free cement and steel, and grid systems that balance themselves. We can make cancer vaccines and drugs optimized with a single patient’s DNA. If we ever make it to another planet, it will be because of AI. The same is true if we ever learn to sustainably feed 10 billion people.
This is not a speculative category anymore. A series of startups are making meaningful breakthroughs in these kinds of technologies. In Cambridge, England, a materials science company called CuspAI is building foundation models for chemistry to find materials for direct air capture of carbon dioxide. In California, Periodic Labs, founded by the researcher who led materials and chemistry at Google DeepMind, raised a $300 million seed round at a $1 billion valuation to run autonomous synthesis labs hunting for superconductors that work at higher temperatures (its valuation has since risen dramatically). And Zanskar, a company Obvious Ventures has backed, trained its models on subsurface data and a century of drilling and satellite records to find geothermal resources the industry had already written off. Last year, it identified a blind site in western Nevada with no geysers or surface expression that has the potential to generate over 100 megawatts.
Zanskar, however, is an exception. None of these other technologies were backed by climate funders. CuspAI and Periodic Labs have received financing from sovereign wealth funds, chipmakers, generalist growth firms, and individual investors who made their fortunes in software.
I’ll be the first to acknowledge that building a climate tech company isn’t easy. Investors often have to make two bets at once: that the science will work and that, if it does, there will be a viable business on the other side. Unlike chatbots from the frontier AI labs that have grown to $1 trillion valuations in less than five years, meaningful climate tech breakthroughs take longer to deploy, and even longer for their impact to put a meaningful dent in climate change.
But companies like CuspAI, Periodic, and Zanskar are proof of what’s possible when we point AI and climate tech in the same direction.
There are three main things we can do differently to continue that progress, and we can start each of them today.
As with any economic shift, aligning the incentives gets us much further than any fleeting policy commitment. When alignment happens, it creates a flywheel where AI powers research in climate tech, whose breakthroughs get fed back into AI to run models more cleanly and efficiently.
Jakob Uszkoreit, the former Google engineer who co-authored the transformer architecture that powers today’s leading large language models, described to me the paradox this way: AI needs carbon to get off the ground, but once airborne, it becomes the mechanism that solves the carbon problem. The question is whether we achieve liftoff before the end of the runway.
New research finds that Europe’s 2025 heat wave was made measurably worse by greenhouse gas emissions since the Paris Agreement.
Europe’s record-breaking heat wave in 2025 would have been a third of a degree Celsius cooler if not for emissions released just since the Paris Climate Agreement was signed in 2015, researchers found in a new study published Tuesday by the American Geophysical Union’s Geophysical Research Letters.
The research marks a step forward for attribution science, which has traditionally worked to tie extreme events such as heat waves and floods to climate change writ large. Now, using artificial intelligence trained on climate models, researchers have managed to link extreme weather to a specific subset of emissions.
“Not only does every little bit of emissions count, but the amount of emissions released since 2015 significantly increased the temperature of [the 2025 European] heat wave,” Jared Trok, the study’s lead author and a PhD student at the Stanford Doerr School of Sustainability, told me. “Before this paper” — which found 99-in-100 odds that human-caused emissions since 2015 increased the severity of the 2025 heat wave — “we couldn’t really make a claim to that extent.”
Though the record-breaking 2026 heat wave fell outside the scope of the study, the 2025 heat wave was no joke either — temperatures crested 115 degrees Fahrenheit in Spain and Portugal, and more than 16,000 died across the continent. Trok’s findings about a relationship between the past decade of emissions and intensified heat also held true for Europe’s hottest week in every year since at least 2021.
While a third of a degree Celsius might not sound like a lot — “it’s smaller than our ability to actually sense,” Trok acknowledged — there’s a growing body of scientific literature that suggests even incremental increases in temperature can be deadly. “It’s nonlinear,” Trok added. “For every additional increment of temperature, the impacts on heat-related mortality are even larger than the previous increment.” Though Trok and his colleagues did not look at mortality specifically, the reasoning indicates dozens if not hundreds of people could have died due to that fraction of a degree.
The study highlights the advances in the specificity and speed of attribution science, which a quarter of a century ago struggled to distinguish the influence of all historical emissions on any individual event. But it also suggests something grim: The past decade also overlaps with the biggest global efforts toward decarbonization. “Even if the decarbonization goals are achieved, these results as well as others suggest near certainty that the extremes, particularly extreme heat, will continue to intensify,” Noah Suresh Diffenbaugh, a Stanford climate scientist and the paper’s senior author, told me.
Paired with a separate commentary also published today by the U.S. Climate Collection, a joint project of AGU and the American Meteorological Society, the research adds an urgent underline to the need for research like Trok’s to be incorporated into state and local policymaking. Many of the institutions that existed to do so in the U.S., however, have collapsed or been actively dismantled by the second Trump administration.
The Climate Collection formed in the void that followed the forced breakup of the sixth National Climate Assessment (and is made up of many of its authors), and argues that the NCA did more than just good rigorous science — it also helped translate that research into a reliable springboard for policymakers.
The U.S. Climate Collection aims to compile an open-access collection of research papers that “lays the groundwork for future national and subnational assessments of climate risks and solutions in the United States.”
The group’s first paper serves as “a call to our colleagues to meet that need and the charge that has been given to us by society to produce the science” necessary for policymakers and other groups to “make better decisions,” Melissa Kenney, one of the commentary’s lead authors and director of research and knowledge initiatives at the University of Minnesota’s Institute on the Environment, told me.
In the past, the formal NCAs have helped inform everything from New Hampshire flood risk management plans to city- and state-level climate policies, the Climate Collection writes in their commentary. (They also set expectations: The last NCA required the involvement of 500 authors, 250 technical contributors, and synthesized more than 8,200 studies, meaning the Collective likely couldn’t replicate the rigor and scope even if it wanted to.) The Climate Collection specifically singles out attribution as an area of priority.
“Compounding extremes and cascading climate risks are increasingly overwhelming our legacy policies and infrastructure,” Kenney said, adding that “being able to understand the impact of these compounding extremes is really critical in a number of communities to be able to make smart, multi-decadal decisions like infrastructure choices.”
But as Trok’s research shows, even assumptions about the climate of 2015 are out of date. Investments in adaptation are a small fraction of the total dollars spent addressing climate change, and as Diffenbaugh stressed, the new paper is just the latest “of a number of studies that highlight that we can expect further acceleration of impacts from extreme events.”
The U.S. Climate Collection doesn’t intend to fill the gap left by the collapse of NCA6 (nor could it, its authors point out, given that it’s a self-organized volunteer group). But its call for synthesis papers of smaller scopes could give policymakers grounds to make decisions pulled from rigorous, peer-reviewed research as the world changes all around us. “These types of assessment reports are one of our greatest professional obligations as scientists,” Kenney said. “Most people will not go and read hundreds of scientific papers to be able to understand what we know and what we still need to know.”
“But,” she added, “there’s a real need for us to be able to provide the information” — before it becomes old news, too.