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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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The group’s latest World Energy Outlook reflects the sharp swerve in U.S. policy over the past year.
The United States is different when it comes to energy and fossil fuels. While it’s no longer the world’s largest greenhouse gas emitter, no other country combines the United States’ production and consumptive capacity when it comes to oil — and, increasingly, natural gas. And no other country has made such a substantial recent policy U-turn in the past year, turning against renewables deployment at the same time as it is seeing electricity demand leap up thanks to data centers.
All of this is mirrored in the International Energy Agency’s 2025 World Energy Outlook, released Wednesday, which reflects a stark portrait of how America’s development of artificial intelligence and natural gas has made it distinct from its global peers. In combination, the effects of the One Big Beautiful Bill Act and the U.S.’s world-leading artificial intelligence development have meaningfully altered the group’s forecasts of global fossil fuel usage and emissions.
Much of the report compares two different scenarios for global energy usage and emissions — one looking at what governments are actually doing, and the other at what they say they want to do. The difference between the two is in the pace of the renewables buildout, and especially the pace at which fossil fuels’ place in the energy supply is wound down, if it is at all.
For example, the Current Policies Scenario (the stricter scenario) shows “demand for oil and natural gas continu[ing] to grow to 2050,” while the Stated Policies Scenario, or STEPS (the more optimistic one) shows oil use flattening “around 2030.” But in both cases, “gas demand continues growing into the 2030s, due mainly to changes in U.S. policies and lower gas prices.”

Even in the more optimistic outlook, natural gas use peaks later than it did in earlier forecasts. In 2035, the IEA projects, gas output will be 350 billion cubic meters greater than it projected last year, which is roughly equal to the annual gas production of Texas — and that’s in the optimistic scenario. “Three-quarters of this is for electricity generation, mainly in the United States, Japan and the Middle East, and reflects higher electricity demand and slower progress in adding renewables to the generation mix than projected,” the report says.
But the U.S. is not the whole story — the tide of renewable deployment continues apace. The clean energy analytics group Ember argues that the report’s “downgrades on clean growth in the U.S. are offset by rises in other countries,” especially as electric vehicles grow in popularity everywhere else. While the STEPS forecast shows a 30% drop in renewables capacity compared to last year’s projection in 2035 in the US (and a 60% drop in EVs on the road in 2035), “there are 20% more EVs projected in emerging markets outside China and the renewables forecast was also upgraded outside the U.S,” Ember said in a statement.
Ember attributes this to an “increasing focus on energy security,” with more countries following China in electrifying broader swathes of their economies in order to reduce their dependence on fossil fuel imports like natural gas, coal, and oil — including from the United States.
Similarly, Ember is sanguine about artificial intelligence throwing off projections for the wind-down of fossil fuels, which the IEA has and continues to portray generally as largely a U.S. phenomenon.
The IEA estimates that over 85% of global data center capacity growth will take place in the United States, China, and Europe, and that data centers will be responsible for only 6% to 10% of electricity demand growth in the EU and China through 2030. In the U.S., however, they’re responsible for about half of projected growth.
But it’s not just data centers that are causing the IEA to revise its figures. The IEA upped its forecast for electricity use in 2035 by 4% compared to last year, which amounts to some 1,700 terawatt-hours, a bit south of India’s annual electricity generation today. The group attributes this upward move in its forecast not just to “electricity demand to serve data centres” — which dominates discussion of energy use and climate change — but also to “higher demand for air conditioning in the Middle East and North Africa.”
While the economic benefits of artificial development are still necessarily speculative — with trillions of dollars of investment leading us potentially to a singularity of exponentially increasing technological development, machine-led human extinction, or somewhere in between — the benefits of air conditioning are far less so. With increased AC usage, even as temperature rises, heat-related mortality could fall.
And as the Global South heats and grows economically, its demand for and ability to procure air conditioning will grow, leading to higher energy usage and putting more pressure on the climate. The IEA figures square with another recent report from the climate and energy think tank Rhodium Group, which predicts a rise in emissions after 2060 due to economic development in the Global South.
In short, the energy consumption that feeds economic development all over the world is making the hottest parts of the world hotter while also enabling them to use more energy to cool their homes. At the same time, the richest parts of the world are increasing their electricity usage — and therefore their emissions — in order to develop a technology they hope will supercharge economic growth. The climate hangs in the balance.
After years of planning, the Tropical Forests Forever Facility has so far failed to take root.
In selecting a location for this year’s United Nations climate conference, host country Brazil chose symbolism over sense. Belém, the site of this year’s summit, is perched on the edge of the Amazon rainforest. The setting is meant to foreground the importance of nature in fighting climate change — despite the city’s desperately inadequate infrastructure for housing the tens of thousands of attendees the conference draws.
That mismatch of intention and resources has also played out in the meeting rooms of the gathering, known as COP30. The centerpiece of President Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva’s agenda was meant to be the Tropical Forests Forever Facility, an international finance scheme to raise at least $2 billion per year to fund forest conservation and restoration. After an inauspicious launch in which presumed supporters of the facility failed to put up any actual financing, however, it’s unclear whether the TFFF will have a chance to prove it can work.
Deforestation rates have hardly budged globally since 2021, despite more than 100 countries signing a pledge that year to halt and reverse deforestation and land degradation within the decade. The world lost more than 8 million hectares of forest to deforestation last year, causing the release of more than 4 billion metric tons of carbon dioxide into the atmosphere — nearly as much as the entire U.S. energy sector.
First proposed by the Brazilian government in Dubai at COP28, the TFFF was devised to deliver a more consistent source of funding to countries in the global south for forest conservation that would not depend on foreign aid budgets or be vulnerable to the ups and downs of the carbon market.
The plan involves setting up a fund with money borrowed from wealthier countries and private investors at low interest rates and invested in publicly traded bonds from emerging markets and developing economies that command higher interest rates. After paying back investors, the revenue generated by the spread — roughly a 3% return, if all goes to plan — would be paid out in annual lump sums to developing countries that have managed to keep deforestation at bay. Participating countries would have the right to spend the proceeds as they choose, so long as the money goes to support forests. At least 20% of the funds would also have to be set aside for indigenous peoples.
Brazil lined up substantial support for the idea ahead of this year’s launch. Six potential investor countries — France, Germany, Norway, the United Arab Emirates, the United Kingdom, and the United States — as well as five potential beneficiaries — Colombia, the Democratic Republic of Congo, Ghana, Indonesia, and Malaysia — joined a steering committee to help shape the development of the fund. The Brazilian government ultimately proposed a fundraising target of $25 billion from the sponsor countries, with the idea to attract about $100 billion from private investors, for a total of $125 billion to get the fund off the ground.
Once the fund started generating revenue, private investors would be paid out first, sponsor countries second, and forested countries last, with the $25 billion serving as insurance to the private investors should the emerging market bond issuers default on their payments. The fund itself would be managed by the World Bank, while a separate entity would govern payments made to forested countries.
While many in the international environmental community were enthusiastic about the plan — especially as a shift away from controversial carbon markets — some raised alarms.
Max Alexander Matthey, a German economics PhD student studying international finance, first saw a presentation on TFFF at COP29 and was baffled by its simplicity. “If it was that easy to make this 3% on borrowed money, why wouldn’t everyone else be doing it?” he recalled thinking at the time. After digging into the Brazilian government’s financial analysis and doing some of his own, Matthey came to believe that the fund’s proponents had underestimated the risk inherent to the investment strategy, as well as the cost of managing the $125 billion fund, he told me.
The whole reason these emerging market bonds command a higher interest rate, Matthey explained, is because they are riskier. If and when countries default on their debts, whether due to global financial shocks like pandemics or wars, or simple mismanagement, the “free money” available for forests will dry up. “These 3% are not up for grabs,” he told me. “They compensate for actual risk and defaults that will happen over time.”
The TFFF was designed to create an incentive for countries with tropical forests to invest in policies and programs to protect forests — to hire rangers to prevent illegal deforestation, to pay farmers not to raze their forests, to implement fire prevention strategies. “They have to heavily invest,” Matthey told me. “If we as the Global North say, Well, thanks for investing large shares of your budget into rainforest protection, but you won’t get any money from our side because financial markets turned the wrong way, that’s just not how you build trust.”
Matthey outlined his analysis in a Substack post in September with University of Calgary economist Aidan Hollis. They found that the JP Morgan EMBI index, which tracks emerging market sovereign bonds, has seen regular downturns of between 18 and 32 percentage points over the past two decades. In the case of the TFFF, a single 20-point loss would wipe out the $25 billion in sponsor debt “and halt rainforest flows, possibly before they even begin,” they wrote.
The energy research firm BloombergNEF seems to agree. In a report published last week outlining the state of international biodiversity finance ahead of COP30, BNEF forecast there would be “little progress” on the TFFF. “The 3% spread is not a money faucet, but a risk premium; studies on the TFFF appear not to have properly conducted risk analyses,” the report said, warning that in effect, the scheme would eat up development finance just to absorb private investor losses.
Just prior to that report’s release, confidence in the TFFF appeared to dip. Brazil’s finance minister lowered his fundraising ambition for the facility to $10 billion by 2026. A few days later, on the eve of the launch, Bloomberg News reported that the United Kingdom would not be contributing to the fund after the country’s treasury department warned it could not afford the investment, despite its significant involvement in the fund’s design.
Following the launch, Indonesia and Portugal each committed $1 billion, while Norway pledged $3 billion, although only if the fund successfully secures at least $10 billion. France also promised €500 million, or just over half a billion dollars, while Germany said it would contribute “significantly,” although it hasn’t said how much yet. All in all, countries committed just $5.5 billion above Brazil’s own initial $1 billion commitment — with at least $3 billion of that contingent on further fundraising.
Andrew Deutz, the managing director for global policy and partnerships at the World Wildlife Fund, which has also been heavily involved in developing the TFFF, assured me this was not the disappointment it appeared to be.
"I look at what just happened last week as validation that the model can work and that countries have confidence in it,” Deutz said. He pointed to the fact that 53 countries, including 19 potential investors, have endorsed the scheme. “A bunch of sponsor countries who haven’t been that engaged said, We like this idea, and I think that creates the opportunity and the momentum that we can get one or two more rounds of capitalization at least.” Deutz was bullish that Germany would come to the table with a pledge between $1 billion and $3 billion, and that the UK would “get guilted in” shortly. He expects to see additional pledges at the World Bank’s Spring Meetings next April, and a few more at the UN General Assembly next September.
As for criticisms of the fund’s investment strategy, he brushed them off, arguing that the risk was "quantifiable and manageable.” He has faith in the TFFF’s modeling showing that the fund’s managers will be able to earn high enough returns to pay back investors and still generate enough funds to pay tropical forest countries.
Charles Barber, the director of natural resources governance and policy at the World Resources Institute was more cautious on both fronts. “We’re glad it’s got as far as it has, but there’s a whole lot of questions that will need to be answered to really get it up,” he told me. Barber saw arguments both for and against the risky investment strategy, but he was skeptical that a starting point of $10 billion would be enough to attract sufficient private investment or give tropical forest countries enough of an incentive to participate.
Matthey has called the idea of a scaled-down TFFF a “worst-case scenario for everyone involved,” due to the high fixed costs of managing the fund, monitoring deforestation, administering the proceeds, etc. The potential payouts to forested countries would be so diminished as to amount to a “rounding error” rather than a true incentive, he wrote.
Deutz told me the TFFF’s architects always expected there to be a three- to four-year ramp-up period. If the fund gets one or two more rounds of capitalization, “we’ll see if it works — and then, assuming it works, you can keep adding to it,” he said. “This is something new and different, so it might take us a little while to prove it out and for people to get comfortable.”
Leading Light can’t move forward, a legal counsel wrote to state regulators.
Another offshore wind project on the East Coast is being quietly killed.
Legal counsel for the Leading Light Wind offshore project filed a letter on Nov. 7 to the New Jersey Board of Public Utilities informing the regulator it no longer sees any way to complete construction and wants to pull the plug.
“The Board is well aware that the offshore wind industry has experienced economic and regulatory conditions that have made the development of new offshore wind projects extremely difficult,” counsel Colleen Foley wrote in the letter, which was reviewed by Heatmap News. “Like many other industry participants, the Company has faced a series of obstacles in the development of the LLW Project including supply chain, equipment and vendor challenges as well as changing regulatory requirements, to name but a few of the issues the Company has confronted.”
Leading Light was going to be built about 35 miles off the coast of New Jersey. It was awarded a renewable energy certificate from the state in January 2024 and was expected to provide roughly 2.4 gigawatts of electricity to the grid, which would have made it one of the largest renewable energy projects in the country and enough, the developers said, to power a million homes.
That certificate, known as an OREC, came with state financial assistance but also required developers Invenergy and energyRe to meet specific project milestones. Yet in addition to facing supply chain issues both companies had been unable to pursue federal permitting because of the Trump administration’s policy on offshore wind. And for months, they had submitted extension after extension to filing a motion binding it legally to complete construction of the project.
But now Leading Light is dead for the foreseeable future. “The company regrets this decision but does not see a pathway forward for the LLW Project on this OREC award and looks forward to the future for possible solicitations,” Foley stated.
This means New Jersey’s offshore wind horizons are incredibly bleak, especially after Shell dumped its stake in the defunct Atlantic Shores offshore wind project last month. Almost all of New Jersey’s offshore wind contracts have now fallen apart, including those for the Ocean Wind, and there is little chance of Attentive Energy receiving federal permits under the current administration.
Only one project is now set to be operational off the New Jersey coast: Empire Wind. But it’s unclear if Empire will ever provide electrons to New Jersey itself since its only contract is with New York regulators. (It remains to be seen whether Empire’s developer, Equinor, will bid into New Jersey’s markets for the project’s second phase.)
It’s also important to consider the timing. On Nov. 4, New Jersey voters were swept up in a blue wave – but one that didn’t really hit many coastal areas, where a large majority of voters remained in the GOP camp. Republican gubernatorial candidate Jack Ciattarelli focused enormously on fighting offshore wind during his campaign, going so far as to sell anti-wind merch. So one can imagine a world where the coastline was part of a blue wave and an offshore wind developer wouldn’t immediately pull out of the state, but that’s not a world we live in.
When reached for comment on whether the project might still be built, Invenergy simply said, “Please refer to the filing.”
Editor’s note: This story has been updated to reflect comment from Invenergy and clarify Attentive Energy’s current status.
Emily Pontecorvo contributed to this article.