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Why power lines are harder to build than pipelines

How hard is it to build big clean-energy infrastructure in America? Look at SunZia.
When completed, the more-than-500-mile power line is meant to ferry electricity from a massive new wind farm in New Mexico to the booming power markets of Arizona and California. When finally built, SunZia will be the largest renewable project in the United States, if not the Western Hemisphere.
But as I detail in a recent investigation for Heatmap, it has taken too long — much too long — to build. Nearly two decades have elapsed since a project developer first asked the federal government for permission to build SunZia.
Since it was first proposed, SunZia has endured seemingly endless environmental studies and lawsuits. It has been bought, sold, and bargained over. The end result is that a project first conceived in 2006 — which was expected to operate in 2013 — is now due to open in 2026.
That is a massive problem, because confronting climate change will require the country to build dozens of new long-distance power lines like SunZia. If the United States wants to meet its Paris Agreement goal by 2050, then it will have to triple the size of its power grid in just 26 years, according to Princeton’s Net Zero America study. (That research was led by Jesse Jenkins, who co-hosts Heatmap’s “Shift Key” podcast with me.)
The country is not on track to meet that goal. My story on SunZia set out to determine why.
Here are three major takeaways from my investigation:
At a fundamental level, a power line and a natural gas pipeline aren’t so different: Both move a large amount of energy over a long distance.
Yet it is much easier to build a natural gas pipeline than a transmission line, and they face very different regulatory hurdles in America. When a company proposes a new transmission line, it must get permission from every state whose borders it plans to cross. This can result in an arduous, years-long process of application, study, and approval.
That same obstacle does not hinder gas developers. When a company proposes a new natural gas pipeline, it can get many of its permits handled by a single federal agency, the Federal Energy Regulatory Commission. FERC is a one-stop shop for gas pipeline developers, organizing and granting state-level permits through a streamlined process.
(To be sure, natural gas pipelines sometimes need permits from other federal agencies — such as the Bureau of Land Management — before they can begin construction. But transmission developers need to get permits from those other federal agencies, too.)
But not all of the obstacles are regulatory. Transmission and renewable projects simply look different than pipelines, which can make environmentalists and the public more skeptical of them. Even though pipelines can leak or spill, they can be buried or built closer to the ground than power lines, and therefore pose less of a visual disturbance to the landscape.
In recent years, much of the controversy around SunZia has focused on the San Pedro Valley, a gorgeous desert landscape northeast of Tucson, Arizona. SunZia must pass through the valley to connect to a power station near Phoenix.
Two Native American tribes — the Tohono O'odham Nation and the San Carlos Apache Tribe — sued to block SunZia last year. They argue that the valley has cultural value and must be preserved intact and undiminished.
But the valley is already home to a large natural gas pipeline, mostly — but not entirely — buried underground. (The pipeline is on pylons near Redington, Arizona, where it crosses the San Pedro River.)
In an interview, a leader at the Center for Biological Diversity, an environmentalist group that joined the tribes’ lawsuit, said that SunZia’s proposed power line is problematic in part because it will be so tall.
“There are no 200-foot large power lines going through the San Pedro Valley,” Robin Silver, the leader, told me. “The gas pipeline doesn’t have 200 foot towers.”
If environmentalists focus on a project’s visual prominence, then pipelines will virtually always win out over transmission lines.
A federal judge dismissed the tribes’ lawsuit last month. A representative of the Tohono O'odham Nation did not respond to multiple requests for comment.
In permitting debates, conservationists and clean energy developers can often become enemies. Traditional conservationists seek to slow down the permitting process as much as possible and move a project away from a treasured or sensitive area, while developers and climate hawks want to build clean energy infrastructure quickly and efficiently.
These fights often play out as costly lawsuits over the National Environmental Policy Act, a 1970 law that requires the government to study the environmental impact of every decision that it makes. Advocates and opponents wind up battling in court over whether or not a project’s environmental impact has been sufficiently studied.
That’s not what happened with SunZia. Some environmentalists and traditional conservation groups, such as the Audubon Society, now praise SunZia’s process.
It wasn’t always that way. During the early 2010s, SunZia’s proposal to cross the Rio Grande in New Mexico was just as controversial as its San Pedro Valley route. The project’s developer wanted to build power lines near a site where tens of thousands of migratory birds, including sandhill cranes, spend the winter.
That changed after the Defense Department forced a major rethink of the line in 2018. Soon after that, Pattern Energy, a San Francisco-based energy developer, took over the project.
Pattern took a different approach than its predecessor and partnered with environmental groups to learn how it could build the power line in the least intrusive way.
It conducted original research on how sandhill cranes fly, and — based on that research — moved the power line to the place where it would interfere with birds the least. It also purchased and donated an old farm property and the accompanying water rights so a wildlife refuge could rebuild habitat for the birds.
Pattern also agreed to illuminate the transmission line with an experimental infrared system to make it more visible to birds.
These changes, which also allowed Pattern to avoid a Defense Department site, were so extensive that it had to apply for a new federal permit.
“Pattern being a company that was willing to have discussions with us in good faith — and that conversation happening before the re-permitting process — was, I think, really important,” Jon Hayes, a wildlife biologist and the executive director of Audubon Southwest, told me.
This collaborative relationship was possible in part because it was facilitated by Senator Martin Heinrich, a Democrat who represents New Mexico.
Heinrich, a climate hawk and the son of a utility worker, had long championed the SunZia project. So when the project ran into obstacles, he pushed the developer, environmentalists, and the Pentagon to negotiate over a better solution. His office remained deeply involved in the process throughout the 2010s, ultimately helping to broker an agreement over the Rio Grande that all parties supported.
“I firmly believe that when we work together, we can build big things in this country,” Heinrich told me in a statement.
Silver, the Center for Biological Diversity leader, told me that Heinrich’s involvement is the principal reason why SunZia has been praised in New Mexico but criticized in Arizona.
The Grand Canyon State doesn’t have elected officials who were willing to get involved in SunZia and push for a mutually beneficial solution, he said. (For much of the 2010s, Republicans held both of the state’s Senate seats.)
But a project’s ultimate success cannot rest on the quality or curiosity of its senators. Martin Heinrich, as a climate solution, doesn’t scale, and not every clean energy project will have a federal chaperone.
What’s more, America’s existing permitting system — which is channeled through its adversarial legal system — practically discourages cooperation. It pushes developers and their opponents to pursue aggressive and expensive legal campaigns against each other. These campaigns burn huge amounts of time and millions of dollars in legal fees — money that could be spent on decarbonizing the economy.
In order to meet America’s climate goals, developers must build dozens of projects like SunZia, all around the country, in the years to come. That will not happen under today’s permitting system. The country needs something better.
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A new fundraise from Isometric, plus more this week’s — and last week’s! — big money moves.
With the Juneteenth holiday last Friday we missed out on our weekly roundup of energy and climate tech funding news. That means this week brings a double dose of announcements, covering three deals from this week and two from last.
As my colleagues Alexander C. Kaufman and Robinson Meyer both reported last week, the coalition of carbon removal buyers known as Frontier announced a new $915 million funding commitment, notably now counting artificial intelligence giant Anthropic among its members. That set the stage for a related development this week: Isometric, the carbon removal market’s largest certification platform, also announced fresh funding as it looks to expand the scope of its certification methodology to cover things like low-carbon materials and renewable energy certificates.
In a sign of continued momentum across the electric and autonomous vehicle industries, this week also brought a tranche of debt financing for charging infrastructure, alongside a large European utility deal for iron-air battery startup Ore Energy. And rounding out last week’s activity, Foundation Alloy raised a Series A to scale lower-energy metals production, while yet another SpaceX alum secured funding for a new startup, this time to mass manufacture geothermal turbines, aiming to reduce deployment timelines and costs.
Eamon Jubbaway founded the UK-based certification platform Isometric in 2022 with the goal of creating a carbon credit standard to end all carbon credit standards. The voluntary carbon market was — and largely still is — a confusing patchwork of registries, protocols, and verification bodies offering myriad ways for companies to offset their emissions, with the price and quality of offsets varying dramatically. Isometric set out to make sense of it all by hiring a team of scientists to evaluate the efficacy of different carbon removal pathways, ultimately developing a rigorous set of standards that carbon crediting companies must meet to earn Isometric certification.
Now, having become the world’s largest carbon removal certification company by contracted volume, the startup is taking its model beyond this beachhead market. This week, Isometric raised a $40 million Series A led by global venture capital firm AVP to expand into the broader industrial economy. That includes verifying everything from the embodied emissions of low-carbon steel and cement to superpollutant reductions, renewable energy certificates that attest to the generation of clean power at a specific time and place, and the climate impact of low-carbon fuels used in shipping and aviation.
“Isometric was basically founded to say, look, the long-term solution here is obviously government and regulation, but in the meantime, this is too important to let the market just keep doing it like this,” Lukas May, Isometric’s chief commercial officer, told me when I interviewed him in September 2024. He was referring to the voluntary carbon removal market — and the need for federal regulators to eventually determine what does and doesn’t qualify as carbon removal — but the same argument could easily apply to the new sectors where Isometric is now applying its meticulous approach.
The startup’s team of scientists is also getting a major boost from AI. Isometric says its “agentic certification platform” can do in mere hours what used to take months, with agents ingesting millions of data points underpinning claims around things like carbon reduction or clean energy generation and cross-checking them against first-hand sources such as sensor readings, satellite imagery, and supply chain records. That allows the company’s scientists to focus on investigating meaningful discrepancies rather than manually spot-checking datasets at random.
Terawatt Infrastructure was little more than a year out of stealth in 2022 when it rocked the electric vehicle charging industry by raising a colossal $1 billion Series A to expand its full-service platform. The company offers more than just charging infrastructure — it also owns the underlying real estate, power management software, operations, and, in some cases, even the energy assets themselves.
Now the company founded by Google’s former head of energy strategy Neha Palmer has secured up to $300 million in debt financing, backed by a group of global banks led by RBC Capital Markets, to further expand its network. The deal indicates that these large financial institutions now view this type of full-stack charging infrastructure as a secure, bankable asset as EV and autonomous vehicle fleets proliferate. Goldman Sachs projects that the latter will become a $415 billion global market by 2035, representing an expansion from about 7,000 robotaxis in 2025 to 6 million in 2035.
Terawatt already counts Waymo and PepsiCo among its customers, and, according to Bloomberg, operates more than 50 properties in around a dozen states, with over 200 megawatts of power capacity in development. While this latest debt financing will help it expand its network, it’s still just a drop in the bucket in terms of what’s needed: BloombergNEF estimates that building out the global charging infrastructure for electric and autonomous fleets will require more than $635 billion in investment through 2040.
Back in February, I covered the news that Ore Energy, a European iron-air battery startup and Form Energy competitor, had completed a grid-connected pilot in France with EDF, the state-owned electric utility. The project helped validate the startup’s core technology: a 100-hour battery that can discharge continuously for four days under real-world operating conditions. This week, the startup built on that progress by announcing a deal with Dutch utility Budget Thuis for a 1-gigawatt-hour iron-air battery system, with the first phase — a 400-megawatt-hour installation — slated for delivery in 2028.
This agreement marks the first iron-air offtake deal with a European energy supplier, an impressive milestone considering Ore has raised just shy of $30 million, compared to Form’s roughly $1.2 billion. The partnership with Budget Thuis is designed to help shield customers from volatile gas prices while stabilizing the Dutch grid as it becomes increasingly reliant on wind power. Like many battery storage technologies, Ore’s system dispatches clean, low-cost electricity when power is scarce, dirty, or expensive. But unlike conventional lithium-ion technologies, Ore’s is designed for those multi-day lulls in renewables generation — a challenge that’s particularly acute when it comes to wind energy.
According to Latitude Media, Ore aims to scale to providing 50 gigawatt-hours per year by 2030, suggesting this announcement could be the first of many to come. "We’ve shown our iron-air chemistry works in a European utility setting, and this deployment is the next step in commercialisation: meaningful volume, tied to a real project, with an energy supplier that understands what multi-day storage means for its business,” Aytaç Yilmaz, co-founder and CEO of Ore Energy said in the company’s press release. “We believe iron-air will become as important for wind as lithium-ion has been for solar.”
Metals production is typically an extremely energy-intensive process, involving melting a base metal at hundreds or even thousands of degrees Celsius before mixing in additional elements to create an alloy. The metals startup Foundation Alloy thinks it has a way to simplify this process, however, while significantly lowering energy demand. Rather than melting metals — a process that traditionally relies on fossil fuels to generate enough heat — the startup mechanically bonds metal powders together in a solid state process. This takes substantially less heat and no melting, though the mechanical grinding and fusing carries an energy cost of its own. The final product is an alloy with a more granular, uniform internal structure from the outset, thus eliminating the need for many secondary processing steps.
The startup raised a $22 million Series A last week, led by the climate-focused VC Voyager Ventures, to scale beyond the lab and into commercial production in both the U.S. and Asia. It’s building a 36,000-square-foot factory in Massachusetts, as well as a smaller facility in New Hampshire, with plans to double headcount across its production, engineering, and commercial teams to meet growing demand for alloys in the defense, manufacturing and energy sectors. “Our new Massachusetts facility and modular production cell are set to grow capacity from pilot-scale today to tons per week by 2027 — a 100x increase, built on a modular equipment platform that deploys and scales 10x faster than traditional metals manufacturing,” Jake Guglin, Foundation Alloy’s CEO, said in the company’s press release.
Today, the startup primarily produces molybdenum-based alloys used in high-temperature industrial applications such as hot forging and die casting, and is expanding into iron-based alloys such as stainless steel. Exactly how much energy its production process saves remains unclear, as the company has not disclosed any quantitative energy or emissions reduction figures for the full lifecycle of its products, although it says that the processing chain for its metals is fully electrified.
As my colleagues Matthew Zeitlin and Emily Pontecorvo reported a few weeks ago, the multiverse of former Elon Musk employees who have gone on to start fascinating, often out-there sounding clean tech companies is vast and varied. Last week brought funding news on yet another: turbine manufacturing startup Critical Energy. Founded by former SpaceX rocket propulsion engineer Spencer Jackson, the company raised $19 million in seed funding alongside $3 million in venture debt to build modular turbines designed for geothermal power plants and waste heat applications.
The premise is that while geothermal drilling has become dramatically faster and more efficient in recent years, turbine manufacturing has failed to keep pace. Today’s geothermal turbines are typically bespoke and assembled almost entirely onsite. But Critical Energy’s thesis is that shifting most of the manufacturing and construction process into factories can shrink turbine deployment timelines from years to weeks while substantially reducing costs. It designs its modular turbines to fit inside shipping containers, allowing them to be shipped via truck and assembled onsite. The startup’s first two products are 2.5-megawatt and 5-megawatt turbines, which can stack together to accommodate larger projects as opposed to building one large, custom turbine.
According to TechCrunch, this new funding will go towards Critical Energy’s first 2.5-megawatt project, which is slated for a power plant in a yet-to-be-named location expected to come online in 2027. Longer term, The company aims to be manufacturing gigawatts of turbines by the early 2030s, ultimately enabling over 300 gigawatts of new power generation annually by 2045. But its bet on factory manufacturing will only prove to be a scaleable, cost effective strategy if demand for geothermal power continues to grow at a rapid clip, leveling off at a scale that can justify this type of high-volume production.
On Texas transmission trouble, Russian nuclear reprocessing, and ‘guerrilla solar’
Current conditions: France paused production at two nuclear reactors to avoid violating environmental rules against spewing warm water from the plant’s cooling systems during heatwave conditions • A pair of tropical storms named Mekkhala and Higos are barreling toward Japan’s eastern coast • The death toll from Venezuela’s twin earthquakes has reached nearly 200.

As I have written before, my father and grandfather sold automobiles in New York City, so I grew up with an eye to the other cars on the road. I still remember the first time I realized there was a whole new brand on American streets, when I came upon the Polestar dealership near Lincoln Center on Manhattan’s Upper West Side. Finding out that a Chinese company was behind Polestar’s sleek sedans and growing slate of electric vehicles only piqued my interest that much more. An East Asian importer’s glow-up is one thing. East Asia’s new automotive Goliath finding a beachhead in the American market is quite another story. That story has now reached an abrupt climax as Polestar veers for the exit from the U.S. market. On Thursday, the company announced plans to quit the U.S. following a Department of Commerce decision to ban Polestar from selling new cars in the country. The move represents what The Wall Street Journal described as “the first major casualty of a U.S. rule to ban Chinese software in new vehicles that connect to the internet.”
At issue? The fact that the cameras and GPS equipment in cars could be exploited by certain foreign adversaries. The company, which is controlled by the Chinese auto giant Zhejiang Geely Holding Group, had requested the Trump administration’s permission to sell vehicles under a process that would have complied with the rule. But regulators said no. Polestar isn’t completely disappearing. The company said it would sell off its remaining stock of vehicles and keep open service centers for repairs, potentially retaining the infrastructure to redeploy if political winds shift. It bears mentioning, then, that the new rule was a product of the Biden administration. Here’s my colleague Robinson Meyer with more on the logic behind it.
If you buy a parcel of land in Texas, there’s a reasonably good chance you can do what you want with it, unlike other parts of the U.S. with more restrictive zoning rules. As a result, Texas is a top destination for data centers, and the top destination for wind and solar developers. But the same cultural deference to property rights that allows companies to build stuff in Texas also grants landowners ample opportunity to challenge the sort of project that proves difficult in any American jurisdiction because it spans so many different tracts and municipalities: Transmission lines. On Thursday, Utility Dive reported that several hundred landowners in Central Texas had filed a petition with the Public Utility Commission of Texas, asking the regulator to pause permitting on a proposed 765-kilovolt transmission line that would stretch roughly 200 miles across the middle of the state from Big Hill, near where a 200-megawatt wind farm started up a few years ago, to Bell County, just north of Austin. Transmission lines are notoriously difficult to build in the U.S., and making construction easier is a key demand of clean energy supporters for any kind of federal permitting overhaul. Whether Republican support for streamlining the federal approval process can weather the winds of American politics long enough to counter the effects of the not-in-my-backyard types remains unclear. But opposition to the Texas power line grew after state Representative Brad Buckley, a Republican, joined 42 other lawmakers in filing an amicus brief supporting the group American Stewards of Liberty, a nonprofit that supports property rights.
In New York, meanwhile, Albany’s in-house energy innovation agency is putting up money to refresh the aging statewide grid. On Thursday, the New York Research and Development Authority unveiled $24 million in funding for projects to modernize the state’s poles and wires. “As New York’s electricity system evolves, improving how electricity is managed, delivered, and utilized will be critical to maximizing the performance of our existing grid infrastructure and delivering greater value to consumers,” Doreen Harris, NYSERDA’s chief executive, said in a statement.
First came the Trump administration’s scrutiny of its offshore wind business. Then the federal deal to blow off its U.S. projects and refocus on gas drilling drew Democrat’s scrutiny. Now French energy giant TotalEnergies’ decision to take $1 billion from the Trump administration to back out of its two wind projects off U.S. coasts could draw a leery eye from authorities in its home country. On Thursday, a Paris court ruled that the company had to tighten its climate reporting by accounting for the planet-heating emissions produced when customers burn the oil and gas it sells.
The decision comes amid an unprecedented heat wave that saw France record its hottest temperature ever when, as I told you yesterday, thermometers nearly topped 111 degrees Fahrenheit on Wednesday. The case is the first to test whether France’s 2017 so-called corporate duty of vigilance law could be applied to climate change. The court ruled that the law is not intended to make companies “responsible for the risks linked to climate change, which result from all human activity on the planet since the Industrial Revolution,” the Associated Press quoted from the decision. But the statute does request that companies act “according to their own situation.” The ruling stopped short of ordering Total to reduce its output of oil and gas, but directed the company to complete an assessment of the emissions from its consumers in the next six months. It’s unclear whether the company will be able to meet that requirement, or what may come next as a result. But a growing renewables division to offset the emissions from elsewhere in its business probably wouldn’t hurt.
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In the United States, the Department of Energy is racing to create nuclear “campuses” where startups can experiment with ways to affordably reprocess spent fuel to recycle the uranium in reactors and extract rare isotopes for medical treatments. The effort to establish a whole new industry to recycle nuclear waste comes more than half a century after then-President Jimmy Carter killed the nascent private-sector effort to reprocess atomic fuel, a technological capacity that significantly reduces the stockpile of highly radioactive fission byproducts but lays the groundwork for more enrichment of weapons-grade material. All the while, Russia emerged as one of the top nuclear recyclers. Now Moscow is looking to expand its dominance. This week, World Nuclear News reported that the Kremlin’s state-owned nuclear company Rosatom is planning a new reprocessing facility that aims, for the first time in the industry’s history, to have a modular design that makes expansion easy. The first module will have a capacity to produce 400 metric tons of new reactor fuel per year. “Industrial nuclear recycling technologies and a developed infrastructure are not only a solution to a pressing environmental challenge in our country,” Andrey Nikipelov, Rosatom’s deputy director general for mechanical engineering and industrial solutions, said in a statement. The project, the largest ever built in the country, would “provide Russia with a unique opportunity to cement its leadership in the global nuclear solutions market,” he said.

Yesterday I told you that the widening gap between future supply and demand of copper, which is needed for virtually every electric thing imaginable, was prompting a growth in output from two existing mines owned by a joint venture between Anglo American and the Chilean state-owned company Codelco. Another sign of bullishness on copper: The Canadian mining company Hudbay Minerals just bought all the remaining shares it didn’t already own of the Arizona Sonoran Copper Company. The deal establishes the third-largest copper district, as regions with mining operations are known, in the U.S. In a press release, the company pitched the new combined portfolio as an asset to battery manufacturers looking for all-American mineral supplies.
Meanwhile, the U.S. military is making land on bases available to mining companies to speed up the domestic processing of more critical minerals. On Thursday night, The Wall Street Journal broke news that the U.S. Army had awarded long-term leases to mining and extraction companies Titan Mining Corporation, EnergyX, Ioneer, and REalloys for refining minerals needed for American manufacturing.
Here’s a peek inside one of my daily groupchats: While discussing New York’s Democratic primary election results this week, my friend defended the progressive left’s energy record by pointing out Assemblymember Emily Gallagher’s recent victory in passing a law to legalize balcony solar. An apartment dweller himself, he was excited at the prospect of how generating a small amount of solar power might change how he thought about electricity. (Playing the cynic, I complained that there wasn’t enough widespread support for large-scale generating projects like restarting the Indian Point nuclear plant, building new reactors upstate, or celebrating the forthcoming transmission line to connect the five boroughs to Quebec’s hydroelectric system.) But if this is to catch on, it may be helped by different terminology. Let me introduce you to: Guerilla solar. Reading this latest piece from Dan Gearino at Inside Climate News, I was struck by just how much catchier the slick two-word name is than “balcony solar.”
Three climate stories that caught my eye today.
It’s been a busy few days for climate and energy news. So instead of focusing on a single story in this edition, let’s try something different and check in with a few big ones I’ve been thinking about:
Wednesday was the hottest day ever recorded in France, according to the country’s weather agency, Météo-France. The commune of Palluau, not so far from the country’s Atlantic coast, recorded a high of 43.8 degrees Celsius, or 110 degrees Fahrenheit.
The United Kingdom also set a new June temperature record. Spanish officials have suggested that the heat wave may have killed as many as 212 in their country alone. Germany, Austria, Italy, and the rest of central Europe also face searing weather.
I was particularly struck that many cities in France and Germany recorded their warmest night ever. A town in Rhineland-Palatinate, for instance, saw overnight temperatures remain above 79 degrees Fahrenheit earlier this week.
Although that might not sound so bad to American ears, it is alarming in a country where most homes do not have air conditioning. Heat waves are the deadliest type of weather event on an annual basis, but they are slow and silent killers: They prove fatal when temperatures stay high for hours, or days, at a time, and the body’s natural cooling mechanisms give out. The human body can withstand a hot day or two; it can’t hold out a hot day, a hot night, another hot day, another hot night, ad nauseam.
And let’s clearly say, too: This is climate change. As my colleague Jeva Lange wrote in 2024, record-breaking heat is the clearest symptom of anthropogenic global warming caused by carbon emissions — and therefore fossil fuels. Preventing disasters like this one is why Europe, the fastest-warming continent, has invested so much in decarbonization and net zero.
(But I suspect that in the coming years, it will invest more in air conditioning, too.)
Once a quarter, the Federal Reserve Bank of Dallas surveys oil and gas executives on how they're feeling about the sector. Their anonymous comments, collected at the report’s end, periodically make news — last year, you might recall, respondents were less than thrilled with the president’s policies — but I was struck by a comment in the most recent survey, which came out yesterday.
“The collision of AI development with local community activists rhymes with the early response to fracking,” one unnamed drilling executive said. “It's unclear how competitive we can be in the AI arms race unless we temper the rights given to NIMBYists (not in my backyard) and the legal maneuvers they use to stop progress.”
Now, look: Oil and gas executives care about the boom in part because data centers are major energy consumers. But this comment stood out because it uses the same historical analogy I’ve been meditating on. If you think back to the early 2010s, I’ve said, fracking was new and worrying to many people. But over the course of the decade it became politically polarized, with red states and some purple states embracing it and many blue states backing off of or banning it.
That’s been my framework. So I was shocked to see that J. Stuart Adams, the president of Utah’s state senate, lost his primary to a fellow Republican challenger this week. The campaign was driven by Adams’ approval of a massive data center partly owned by the “Shark Tank” celebrity investor Kevin O’Leary, known as Mr. Wonderful. The 40,000-acre data center — which could consume up to 9 gigawatts, a New-York-City-on-a-warm-spring-day’s amount of power — has proven to be enormously unpopular in Utah, and Adams ultimately demanded O’Leary shrink the project. But that didn’t pacify Republican primary voters, who have now booted Adams from a 20-year career in state politics.
Why does this matter? Because that’s not very fracking-like at all. In the 2010s, state and local Republican leaders may have faced tough battles over pipelines or eminent domain, but their voters did not broadly reject oil and gas development the way they seem to be doing for data centers now. (As our polling at Heatmap shows, the facilities are now deeply unpopular even among GOP voters.) This suggests data centers may be closer to what, say, urban housing projects or nuclear power plants once were to the American electorate — a type of highly controversial economic development that local politicians must either “own” or “fight,” and which, regardless, they see as existential for their careers.
And that in turn suggests a very different future for data centers — and a very different electricity load growth forecast — may be coming.
One last thing, and it's short. Like all middle-aged millennials, I pine for the return of cheap, useful pickup trucks like the old Ford Ranger or Toyota Tacoma. And like all millennial climate journalists, I wish electric vehicles were cheaper.
So I was delighted to see the news that the U.S. startup Slate has somehow managed to build a $25,000 two-seater pickup EV. It says it will start delivering them by the end of this year. Read Heatmap’s new piece by Andrew Moseman to learn how they did it.