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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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On flesh-eating parasites, Italian nuclear, and China’s “wasted” renewables
Current conditions: Tropical Storm Amanda has formed in the eastern Pacific off Baja California, marking the first big storm of the season • Typhoon Jangmi is pummeling Japan, leaving 60,000 without electricity • Western and central Argentina are bracing for a deluge of up to 8 inches of rain this week.
President Donald Trump just upped his bid to revive America’s dying coal-fired power sector. In the first of three funding announcements Thursday, the Department of Energy said it would spend up to $425 million to support the supply chain and expand the capacity of at least 13 coal plants. The agency said in the same press release that it would give $75 million to build a new coal export facility at the West Gateway Terminal Project in Oakland, designed to ship more than 10 millions tons of coal overseas each year. Then the Energy Department unveiled another $350 million to support construction of America’s first new coal plants in over a decade: one in Anchorage, Alaska, and the other in Mt. Storm, West Virginia. The money will also support an upgrade of Puerto Rico’s only coal plant, the infamous 510-megawatt facility in Guayama, and the recommissioning of a 205-megawatt Cumberland, Maryland-based plant that shut down in 2024. Since taking office, Secretary of Energy Chris Wright has repeatedly ordered coal plants set to shutter to remain open, despite steep costs to utilities that the companies are now challenging in court. But coal plants themselves have played the biggest part in thwarting his plans, given that — as Heatmap’s Matthew Zeitlin wrote last year — they keep breaking down.
Two days ago, I told you that the Trump administration planned to dismantle a decade-old U.S. monitoring system to track coastal environments and shifting ocean currents. Now the European Union is stepping up to fill the gap. Earlier this week, the European Commission announced plans to “position the EU as the world’s leading provider of ocean intelligence by contributing 35% of the global ocean observing system by 2035 and securing 35% of the market for ocean observation technologies.” In a statement, European Commission President Ursula von der Leyen said the program, called OceanEye Europe, will allow Europe to “lead the race to understand our ocean, to protect it, and to sustainably harness its potential.”
Cool, cool, cool: The U.S. just recorded its first case of flesh-eating New World screwworm in decades. Fun! On Wednesday, the U.S. Department of Agriculture confirmed that, for the first time in 60 years, the parasitic fly whose maggot larvae feed only on the flesh of warm-blooded animals had been detected in the umbilical area of a three-week-old calf at a ranch in South Texas. So far, the USDA said there are no additional cases. CNN outlined the stakes this way: “Although it is not a food safety issue, an infestation can be a food production issue. It could cost the economy billions and raise the price of beef at a time when Americans are already paying record high prices.” Not to mention, as Heatmap’s Robinson Meyer wrote last night, “the screwworm is a lesson about the reality of good governance. State capacity is not so different from managing the electricity system or, for that matter, cutting carbon emissions, in that there is little political reward for getting it right.”
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In 1987, a year after the world’s only major deadly civilian nuclear accident at Chernobyl, Italians voted in a referendum to phase out its own atomic power stations. The last one shut down in 1990. Now Italy is once again looking to harness the power of fission. On Thursday, World Nuclear News reported that the lower house of the country’s parliament, the Chamber of Deputies, had approved a bill backed by Prime Minister Giorgia Meloni to restart the nation’s atomic power industry. A poll taken in 2024 found that nearly half of Italian voters supported construction of new reactors, with just 24% opposed. The bill that lawmakers just approved passed with 155 votes in favor, 86 against, and eight abstentions.
Meanwhile, yesterday afternoon the microreactor developer Antares — whose deal for TRISO fuel I broke news of back in February — split atoms for the first time in its test reactor built for the Energy Department’s reactor pilot program. When the administration announced the 10 companies selected for the program, the White House set a goal of at least three projects reaching “criticality,” meaning that they can demonstrate the ability to split atoms, for the first time by July 4. “Today’s achievement is a historic moment for American nuclear energy,” Energy Secretary Chris Wright said in a statement. “By bringing the first American non-light water privately developed reactor to criticality in more than four decades, Antares has shown what is possible when American innovation is unleashed.” Antares CEO Jordan Bramble said the company, which aims to sell its reactors primarily to the military and NASA, will produce electricity for the first time next year.
In January, the United Kingdom, Norway, and several major European Union nations including Germany and Denmark agreed to a pact to build out a sweeping array of wind turbines in the North Sea, turning the waterway into “the world’s largest clean energy reservoir.” If the pledge holds, roughly 11% of the 222,000-square-mile sea could be covered in turbines. That’s the finding of a new study from Heriot-Watt University in Scotland. Under the current target, the North Sea would host a total of about 19,400 turbines by the middle of this century. By 2030, the U.K. alone is on track to have roughly 4,200 turbines, followed by Germany with about 2,700, and the Netherlands with 1,700, according to Renewables Now. The Dutch would claim the highest offshore wind density, with wind farms covering around 19% of its North Sea waters by 2050, followed by Belgium at 18%.
China’s carbon dioxide emissions from its power sector increased 4% year over year in the first three months of 2026, despite surging deployments of renewables and nuclear power. Why? According to a new Carbon Brief analysis, it’s “wasted” wind and solar. With the grid in the People’s Republic unable to patch the new turbines and panels in, the capacity could not meet growing electricity demand. Had those units been online, the publication’s analysis determined, emissions from the power sector would have been flat in the first quarter of this year.
The U.S. Department of Agriculture confirmed on Wednesday that a New World screwworm — a flesh-eating fly that feeds on cattle, livestock, and other mammals — was found in a 3-week old calf in southern Texas. The screwworms aren’t dangerous to people, but they are a serious health risk to cows, and they are likely to drive already record-high beef prices even higher.
The finding reflects the defeat of what was, up until recently, one of my favorite “unknown” government programs. For decades, the United States government paid to breed millions of male screwworms, blast them with radiation to make them sterile, and then drop them from planes into the rainforest at the narrowest stretch of the Panama peninsula. (Sarah Zhang, the bravura science writer at The Atlantic, wrote the ultimate story about this project back in 2020, which is how I learned about it in the first place.) These sterile male worms mate with female screwworms but produce no larvae, creating a biological border in Central America across which screwworms cannot pass, at least in theory.
That border was breached in 2022 — perhaps via infected livestock smuggled across the Darién Gap — and since then screwworms have been inching toward Mexico and the United States. They were hundreds of miles from the border last summer; now they seem to have crossed it. Once they’re inside the country, the screwworms will be difficult to cordon given that livestock move travel regularly as they move from ranch to slaughterhouse.
The U.S. government is on it — sort of. Brooke Rollins, the agriculture secretary, announced efforts last July to open a new factory in Texas capable of producing 300 million sterile screwworms. Regardless, re-eradicating the worms is going to be much harder than keeping them under control — the U.S. established the bio-wall in that narrow strip of Panama because it was most efficient, but eliminating the bugs at first required enormous air drops across the southern United States and the entirety of Mexico. That will require a bigger bug factory.
Screwworm isn’t the only historic pest that the American government has lost control of: Our measles eradication status is now also under review. New pests threaten, as well, such as the alpha-gal tick and Lyme disease.
I would highlight that the screwworm is a lesson about the reality of good governance. State capacity is not so different from managing the electricity system or, for that matter, cutting carbon emissions, in that there is little political reward for getting it right. Voters do not thank politicians when something bad doesn’t happen — except in the most obvious cases — and they broadly do not notice when difficult systems work. (Nor do journalists — or, for that matter, the algorithmic feeds that have partially replaced us.)
The screwworm may also point to the virtues of taking a more muscular — a more openly protean — approach to environmental engineering. For decades, the U.S. government really did succeed in squashing the screwworm, and while the ecological effects of the widespread and cheaper cattle farming that resulted are perhaps best left to another discussion, it does make me wonder: Should we consider trying the same thing for ticks? Mosquitos?
Quiet desperation, meet artificial intelligence.
Like many new parents, I devote considerable time to thinking about sleep and why it’s not happening. Should I have sung the bedtime song and then changed the diaper? Did the baby need a fourth nap, or was the mistake letting her take a third so close to bedtime? It came as a surprise the other day, then, when a fellow parent in my baby group revealed she isn’t overthinking the whole sleep schedule thing at all. “I asked ChatGPT to write my baby’s sleep plan,” she told us. “It’s validating!”
To this author, personally, outsourcing parenting decisions to the world’s most sophisticated Mad Libs respondent seems like one of the signs that we’re doomed. Sleepmaxxing mothers aside, a plurality of Americans agree with me. Per Heatmap Pro’s latest polling, 45% of voters are “pessimistic” about the long-term impact of artificial intelligence on their lives, with just 22% saying they’re “optimistic” and about a third saying they’re unsure.
Americans were even more negative about the perceived impacts of AI on “society as a whole” — more than half, 55%, said they were pessimistic, while just 17% said they were optimistic. Maybe “future generations” will have it better? Eh. Again, net pessimism outweighed optimism in our polling by more than 30 points (52% to 20%).
Look a little closer at who hates their life because of AI and you might be surprised. The youngest respondents in the survey (and those who will have to live with the tech the longest), were by far the biggest doubters. Respondents aged 18 to 34 reported the most pessimism of any major demographic about the estimated impact of AI on their personal lives, tied with women generally at net 33 pessimistic over optimistic. For AI’s impact on society as a whole, there was a 53-point spread in favor of AI making things worse (68% pessimistic to 15% optimistic), which is 15 points worse than the next most pessimistic age group, the 35- to 49-year-olds.
Seniors, by contrast, are a little more sanguine. Among the 65-and-over crowd, the pessimism gap was a comparatively small net 12. In fact, men over the age of 65 were the only major group to report being more optimistic than pessimistic on AI’s impacts on future generations (34% to 30%) and on their own lives (35% to 32%). By contrast, young women were among the most negative of all groups; nearly three in four women in the 18 to 34 range (73%) said they were pessimistic about AI’s impact on society, and the same group was net 62 under water on AI’s effects on future generations. (Our findings are in keeping with other polls that show a gender gap on the embrace of AI.)
Education, surprisingly, wasn’t a big difference-maker. People who attended college reported nearly identical pessimism about AI’s impacts on society and future generations as non-college-educated respondents. College-educated people were just a few points less pessimistic about AI’s impact on their own lives, 25% versus 29% for those who didn’t attend.
So who actually thinks AI is going to be a good thing? Black respondents were at least more evenly divided on the impact of AI on their personal lives (33% optimistic to 33% pessimistic), though they were less convinced that the technology is good for society or future generations (13 points net pessimistic). People who prefer a hands-off federal approach to AI are generally encouraged by the technology’s application in their own lives, at net 13 optimistic. But even the most AI-friendly group’s outlook dropped off when considering its implications on society as a whole (net 4 pessimistic) and on future generations (net zero).
Independent voters bristled more at AI’s impacts on their lives (pessimism net 32) than Democrats (net 30), and on the question of “society as a whole,” the bloc ran away with net pessimism of 48, compared to Democrats (net 45) and Republicans (net 27). Among Republicans, MAGA voters were net 25 toward pessimism about AI’s impacts on their lives — in spite of President Trump’s boosterism — compared with the even-more-pessimistic non-MAGA voters at net 34 pessimistic.
Are Americans just a half-glass-empty group to begin with? Well, maybe — the percentage of adults who told Gallup they anticipate having “high-quality lives in five years” declined to less than 60% in 2025, the lowest level in two decades of polling. And while this is Heatmap’s first year tracking AI optimism, in Stanford University’s 2025 Artificial Intelligence Index Report, an adjacent line of inquiry found that people are increasingly warming up to the technology, with the “share of individuals who see AI products and services as more beneficial than harmful [rising] from 52% in 2022 to 55% in 2024.”
At the same time, about a third of Americans in our polling worried that AI puts their jobs at risk; a mere 6% said they believe that “AI will create jobs across the country, and I expect my own career to benefit.” Hopefully, there are no baby sleep trainers among their numbers.
The Heatmap Pro poll of 4,118 American registered voters was conducted by Embold Research via text-to-web responses from May 15 to 28, 2026. The survey included interviews with Americans in all 50 states and Washington, D.C. The margin of sampling error is plus or minus 1.6 percentage points.