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Inside Climeworks’ big experiment to wrest carbon from the air

In the spring of 2021, the world’s leading authority on energy published a “roadmap” for preventing the most catastrophic climate change scenarios. One of its conclusions was particularly daunting. Getting energy-related emissions down to net zero by 2050, the International Energy Agency said, would require “huge leaps in innovation.”
Existing technologies would be mostly sufficient to carry us down the carbon curve over the next decade. But after that, nearly half of the remaining work would have to come from solutions that, for all intents and purposes, did not exist yet. Some would only require retooling existing industries, like developing electric long-haul trucks and carbon-free steel. But others would have to be built from almost nothing and brought to market in record time.
What will it take to rapidly develop new solutions, especially those that involve costly physical infrastructure and which have essentially no commercial value today?
That’s the challenge facing Climeworks, the Swiss company developing machines to wrest carbon dioxide molecules directly from the air. In September 2021, a few months after the IEA’s landmark report came out, Climeworks switched on its first commercial-scale “direct air capture” facility, a feat of engineering it dubbed “Orca,” in Iceland.
The technology behind Orca is one of the top candidates to clean up the carbon already blanketing the Earth. It could also be used to balance out any stubborn, residual sources of greenhouse gases in the future, such as from agriculture or air travel, providing the “net” in net-zero. If we manage to scale up technologies like Orca to the point where we remove more carbon than we release, we could even begin cooling the planet.
As the largest carbon removal plant operating in the world, Orca is either trivial or one of the most important climate projects built in the last decade, depending on how you look at it. It was designed to capture approximately 4,000 metric tons of carbon from the air per year, which, as one climate scientist, David Ho, put it, is the equivalent of rolling back the clock on just 3 seconds of global emissions. But the learnings gleaned from Orca could surpass any quantitative assessment of its impact. How well do these “direct air capture” machines work in the real world? How much does it really cost to run them? And can they get better?
The company — and its funders — are betting they can. Climeworks has made major deals with banks, insurers, and other companies trying to go green to eventually remove carbon from the atmosphere on their behalf. Last year, the company raised $650 million in equity that will “unlock the next phase of its growth,” scaling the technology “up to multi-million-ton capacity … as carbon removal becomes a trillion-dollar market.” And just last month, the U.S. Department of Energy selected Climeworks, along with another carbon removal company, Heirloom, to receive up to $600 million to build a direct air capture “hub” in Louisiana, with the goal of removing one million tons of carbon annually.
Two years after powering up Orca, Climeworks has yet to reveal how effective the technology has proven to be. But in extensive interviews, top executives painted a picture of innovation in progress.
Chief marketing officer Julie Gosalvez told me that Orca is small and climatically insignificant on purpose. The goal is not to make a dent in climate change — yet — but to maximize learning at minimal cost. “You want to learn when you're small, right?” Gosalvez said. “It’s really de-risking the technology. It’s not like Tesla doing EVs when we have been building cars for 70 years and the margin of learning and risk is much smaller. It’s completely new.”
From the ground, Orca looks sort of like a warehouse or a server farm with a massive air conditioning system out back. The plant consists of eight shipping container-sized boxes arranged in a U-shape around a central building, each one equipped with an array of fans. When the plant is running, which is more or less all the time, the fans suck air into the containers where it makes contact with a porous filter known as a “sorbent” which attracts CO2 molecules.

When the filters become totally saturated with CO2, the vents on the containers snap shut, and the containers are heated to more than 212 degrees Fahrenheit. This releases the CO2, which is then delivered through a pipe to a secondary process called “liquefaction,” where it is compressed into a liquid. Finally, the liquid CO2 is piped into basalt rock formations underground, where it slowly mineralizes into stone. The process requires a little bit of electricity and a lot of heat, all of which comes from a carbon-free source — a geothermal power plant nearby.
A day at Orca begins with the morning huddle. The total number on the team is often in flux, but it typically has a staff of about 15 people, Climeworks’ head of operations Benjamin Keusch told me. Ten work in a virtual control room 1,600 miles away in Zurich, taking turns monitoring the plant on a laptop and managing its operations remotely. The remainder work on site, taking orders from the control room, repairing equipment, and helping to run tests.
During the huddle, the team discusses any maintenance that needs to be done. If there’s an issue, the control room will shut down part of the plant while the on-site workers investigate. So far, they’ve dealt with snow piling up around the plant that had to be shoveled, broken and corroded equipment that had to be replaced, and sediment build-up that had to be removed.

The air is more humid and sulfurous at the site in Iceland than in Switzerland, where Climeworks had built an earlier, smaller-scale model, so the team is also learning how to optimize the technology for different weather. Within all this troubleshooting, there’s additional trade-offs to explore and lessons to learn. If a part keeps breaking, does it make more sense to plan to replace it periodically, or to redesign it? How do supply chain constraints play into that calculus?
The company is also performing tests regularly, said Keusch. For example, the team has tested new component designs at Orca that it now plans to incorporate into Climeworks’ next project from the start. (Last year, the company began construction on “Mammoth,” a new plant that will be nine times larger than Orca, on a neighboring site.) At a summit that Climeworks hosted in June, co-founder Jan Wurzbacher said the company believes that over the next decade, it will be able to make its direct air capture system twice as small and cut its energy consumption in half.
“In innovation lingo, the jargon is we haven’t converged on a dominant design,” Gregory Nemet, a professor at the University of Wisconsin who studies technological development, told me. For example, in the wind industry, turbines with three blades, upwind design, and a horizontal axis, are now standard. “There were lots of other experiments before that convergence happened in the late 1980s,” he said. “So that’s kind of where we are with direct air capture. There’s lots of different ways that are being tried right now, even within a company like Climeworks."
Although Climeworks was willing to tell me about the goings-on at Orca over the last two years, the company declined to share how much carbon it has captured or how much energy, on average, the process has used.
Gosalvez told me that the plant’s performance has improved month after month, and that more detailed information was shared with investors. But she was hesitant to make the data public, concerned that it could be misinterpreted, because tests and maintenance at Orca require the plant to shut down regularly.
“Expectations are not in line with the stage of the technology development we are at. People expect this to be turnkey,” she said. “What does success look like? Is it the absolute numbers, or the learnings and ability to scale?”
Danny Cullenward, a climate economist and consultant who has studied the integrity of various carbon removal methods, did not find the company’s reluctance to share data especially concerning. “For these earliest demonstration facilities, you might expect people to hit roadblocks or to have to shut the plant down for a couple of weeks, or do all sorts of things that are going to make it hard to transparently report the efficiency of your process, the number of tons you’re getting at different times,” he told me.
But he acknowledged that there was an inherent tension to the stance, because ultimately, Climeworks’ business model — and the technology’s effectiveness as a climate solution — depend entirely on the ability to make precise, transparent, carbon accounting claims.
Nemet was also of two minds about it. Carbon removal needs to go from almost nothing today to something like a billion tons of carbon removed per year in just three decades, he said. That’s a pace on the upper end of what’s been observed historically with other technologies, like solar panels. So it’s important to understand whether Climeworks’ tech has any chance of meeting the moment. Especially since the company faces competition from a number of others developing direct air capture technologies, like Heirloom and Occidental Petroleum, that may be able to do it cheaper, or faster.
However, Nemet was also sympathetic to the position the company was in. “It’s relatively incremental how these technologies develop,” he said. “I have heard this criticism that this is not a real technology because we haven’t built it at scale, so we shouldn’t depend on it. Or that one of these plants not doing the removal that it said it would do shows that it doesn’t work and that we therefore shouldn’t plan on having it available. To me, that’s a pretty high bar to cross with a climate mitigation technology that could be really useful.”
More data on Orca is coming. Climeworks recently announced that it will work with the company Puro.Earth to certify every ton of CO2 that it removes from the atmosphere and stores underground, in order to sell carbon credits based on this service. The credits will be listed on a public registry.
But even if Orca eventually runs at full capacity, Climeworks will never be able to sell 4,000 carbon credits per year from the plant. Gosalvez clarified that 4,000 tons is the amount of carbon the plant is designed to suck up annually, but the more important number is the amount of “net” carbon removal it can produce. “That might be the first bit of education you need to get out there,” she said, “because it really invites everyone to look at what are the key drivers to be paid attention to.”
She walked me through a chart that illustrated the various ways in which some of Orca’s potential to remove carbon can be lost. First, there’s the question of availability — how often does the plant have to shut down due to maintenance or power shortages? Climeworks aims to limit those losses to 10%. Next, there’s the recovery stage, where the CO2 is separated from the sorbent, purified, and liquified. Gosalvez said it’s basically impossible to do this without losing some CO2. At best, the company hopes to limit that to 5%.
Finally, the company also takes into account “gray emissions,” or the carbon footprint associated with the business, like the materials, the construction, and the eventual decommissioning of the plant and restoration of the site to its former state. If one of Climeworks’ plants ever uses energy from fossil fuels (which the company has said it does not plan to do) it would incorporate any emissions from that energy. Climeworks aims to limit gray emissions to 15%.
In the end, Orca’s net annual carbon removal capacity — the amount Climeworks can sell to customers — is really closer to 3,000 tons. Gosalvez hopes other carbon removal companies adopt the same approach. “Ultimately what counts is your net impact on the planet and the atmosphere,” she said.
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Despite being a first-of-its-kind demonstration plant — and an active research site — Orca is also a commercial project. In fact, Gosalvez told me that Orca’s entire estimated capacity for carbon removal, over the 12 years that the plant is expected to run, sold out shortly after it began operating. The company is now selling carbon removal services from its yet-to-be-built Mammoth plant.
In January, Climeworks announced that Orca had officially fulfilled orders from Microsoft, Stripe, and Shopify. Those companies have collectively asked Climeworks to remove more than 16,000 tons of carbon, according to the deal-tracking site cdr.fyi, but it’s unclear what portion of that was delivered. The achievement was verified by a third party, but the total amount removed was not made public.
Climeworks has also not disclosed how much it has charged companies per ton of carbon, a metric that will eventually be an important indicator of whether the technology can scale to a climate-relevant level. But it has provided rough estimates of how much it expects each ton of carbon removal to cost as the technology scales — expectations which seem to have shifted after two years of operating Orca.
In 2021, Climeworks co-founder Jan Wurzbacher said the company aimed to get the cost down to $200 to $300 per ton removed by the end of the decade, with steeper declines in subsequent years. But at the summit in June, he presented a new cost curve chart showing that the price was currently more than $1,000, and that by the end of the decade, it would fall to somewhere between $400 to $700. The range was so large because the cost of labor, energy, and storing the CO2 varied widely by location, he said. The company aims to get the price down to $100 to $300 per ton by 2050, when the technology has significantly matured.
Critics of carbon removal technologies often point to the vast sums flowing into direct air capture tech like Orca, which are unlikely to make a meaningful difference in climate change for decades to come. During a time when worsening disasters make action feel increasingly urgent, many are skeptical of the value of investing limited funds and political energy into these future solutions. Carbon removal won’t make much of a difference if the world doesn’t deploy the tools already available to reduce emissions as rapidly as possible — and there’s certainly not enough money or effort going into that yet.
But we’ll never have the option to fully halt climate change, let alone begin reversing it, if we don’t develop solutions like Orca. In September, the International Energy Agency released an update to its seminal net-zero report. The new analysis said that in the last two years, the world had, in fact, made significant progress on innovation. Now, some 65% of emission reductions after 2030 could be accounted for with technologies that had reached market uptake. It even included a line about the launch of Orca, noting that Climeworks’ direct air capture technology had moved from the prototype to the demonstration stage.
But it cautioned that DAC needs “to be scaled up dramatically to play the role envisaged,” in the net zero scenario. Climeworks’ experience with Orca offers a glimpse of how much work is yet to be done.
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A group of energy researchers have a three-part prescription for Washington, D.C.’s exploding energy costs.
Washington, D.C. has earned an unwelcome distinction: the largest one-year electricity price increase of any state (or equivalent geographic distinction) in the U.S. Prices there are up 87% over the past five years and 26% in the past year alone, according to new data from MIT and Heatmap News’ Electricity Price Hub. The average D.C. household is now paying $55 more for power each month than it did five years ago.
In the face of this crisis, local officials have done little but blame regional markets, emphasizing the parts of recent rate increases they don’t fully control — generation charges — rather than any proactive measures they could take to offer relief to D.C. households. Meanwhile Exelon, the parent company for Pepco, D.C.’s local utility, has used the crisis to lobby state policymakers across the region for something worse — a return to utility-owned generation, which could leave consumers holding the bag for projects that run over budget or that are built for demand that never materializes.
As residents of Washington, D.C. and energy researchers who helped put together the Electricity Price Hub, we are well aware that the District cannot remake the regional electricity market on its own. But it has meaningful tools to protect ratepayers now.
To be sure, the problems D.C. faces are not entirely of its own making. Rising demand and constrained supply across the Mid-Atlantic have created a wholesale market pressure cooker.
Capacity market prices in the Pepco region, which are set through a regional auction scheme designed to ensure the grid can reliably deliver power when demand peaks, increased more than fivefold in 2025. Those costs are passing through to retail bills. As capacity has come under increasing strain, generation charges in Pepco’s standard supply service have gone up 119% — 33% in the past year alone, with yet another rate increase set to kick in on June 1.
That regional dynamic is real. But it does not absolve local officials.
Roughly 30% of Pepco’s average residential bill is made up of charges that fall squarely under D.C. jurisdiction. Distribution charges, the largest of those local components, have risen 57% over five years, and account for 20% of the total rate increase. The D.C. Public Service Commission regulates utilities in the District and must approve Pepco’s rates before they take effect. The commission, in turn, answers to the D.C. Council, the District’s legislature, which confirms its commissioners and oversees its work. These bodies should be examining every dollar of Pepco’s proposed increases. Instead, a D.C. court recently struck down the commission’s most recent rate-hike approval, finding that it had failed to sufficiently scrutinize Pepco’s request.
When a regulator is doing such a poor job that judges have to step in, that is a five-alarm signal. Yet there is a workable action plan for the Council and the PSC to rein in costs and ease the burden on D.C. households.
First, scrutinize distribution charges aggressively — that is squarely within their jurisdiction. As Pennsylvania Governor Josh Shapiro argued in his public letter to utility leaders last month, the PSC should require Pepco to justify every additional dollar of revenue requested in plain language. That means using transparent, replicable data and analysis to show why it’s needed, the alternatives considered, and how the proposed spending will concretely benefit consumers. To support this, the D.C. Council should ensure that the PSC, the Office of the People’s Council, and relevant state agencies are adequately resourced and positioned to engage with and probe Pepco’s arguments in rate proceedings.
Second, force transparency into how Pepco procures power. The public has remarkably little visibility into what makes up generation charges for the utility. For example, how much of the total cost is attributable to capacity prices, energy procurement, administrative costs, and compliance with the District’s Renewable Energy Portfolio standard? And what changes could D.C. consider to the competitive procurement process or RPS eligibility requirements to mitigate costs? Officials can’t manage what they can’t measure.
Third, attack demand by making it easier for customers to generate their own supply. High and unpredictable interconnection fees, process delays, and other administrative hurdles add unnecessary costs and contribute to the above-average cost of solar in D.C.. The D.C. Council and PSC can incentivize distribution-level solar battery deployment by cutting permitting and interconnection costs and improve cost transparency and streamline interconnection reviews to speed up the process of installing solar and storage.
None of these moves alone will reverse five years of rate increases. But together they would put real downward pressure on bills and signal that the city is serious.
What officials should reject — across the region — is Exelon’s push for utility-owned generation. In practice, it could create a generation subsidiary tomorrow. The reason it wants its rate-regulated distribution utility to do so instead is that this would let it earn a guaranteed return on costs it currently just passes through, while shifting the risk of cost overruns, schedule slips, and overbuilt capacity from shareholders to ratepayers. It would also hand the utility an information advantage over independent power producers, suppressing the competition the market relies on to keep prices honest. More profit, less risk, less competition. A great deal — for the utility.
The D.C. Council recently passed emergency legislation pausing utility disconnections for residents with unpaid balances under $1,000. That is a humane stopgap as we head into summer, but it is not a strategy. Neither is anything that has been proposed during the current mayoral race, in which leading candidates have attacked each other’s records instead of offering a plan to lower bills.
D.C. residents do not need more blame-shifting. The choice in front of the council and the PSC is concrete: Scrutinize what is in their jurisdiction, force the transparency they have the authority to require, accelerate the cheapest sources of new supply, and refuse to subsidize a Pepco business model that turns ratepayers into the underwriters of utility risk. That is the test of whether they meet this moment seriously.
On Thea Energy’s $100 million Series B, plus more of the week’s big money moves.
Nuclear is once again a dominant theme this week, with fusion startup Thea Energy landing a $100 million Series B that will help it expand its magnet manufacturing capabilities. While $100 million is nothing to scoff at, it somehow sounds modest alongside some of this year’s other deals, which include a $450 million Series A for Inertia Enterprises and $240 million for Shine Technologies. This week also brought the news that small modular reactor startup Newcleo plans to go public via SPAC later this year, bringing to mind the exuberance of the 2021 SPAC boom, in a deal expected to net a cool $429 million.
Elsewhere, gridtech company Utilidata raised fresh capital after (surprise!) pivoting to the data center market, while a standalone battery storage developer and operator is betting there’s still plenty of money to be made in the increasingly crowded ERCOT market.
Thea Energy officially joined the growing ranks of fusion companies to surpass $100 million in total funding this week, raising a $100 million Series B round led by the U.S. Innovative Technology Fund to scale its magnet manufacturing operations as it targets a demonstration reactor by 2030. Thea is a part of the Department of Energy’s Milestone-Based Fusion Development Program, which seeks to accelerate efforts for commercial fusion power. In January, the DOE certified Thea’s preconceptual pilot plant design, making it the first of the program’s eight awardees — who will split $46 million in federal funding — to see its reactor architecture validated.
Unlike many top-funded fusion startups, which are building donut-shaped tokamak reactors, Thea Energy is betting on a stellarator design. Traditional stellarators resemble a helical tokamak, which require manufacturing and installing dozens of huge, twisted magnets, but Thea’s approach deviates from the norm. Instead, it relies on hundreds of small, planar magnets arranged in the more familiar donut-shaped configuration, which the company’s artificial intelligence software controls individually. That enables Thea to create the same complex magnetic field within a far simpler and more manufacturable shell.
Thea plans to use the new capital to build a second facility in New Jersey to complement its existing lab and to double its headcount as it seeks a site for its demo reactor later this year. The startup is aiming to bring its subsequent commercial pilot online by 2034, on par with the timeline laid out by fusion industry leader Commonwealth Fusion Systems. According to Gaetano Crupi, USIT founder and billionaire investor Thomas Tull “believes the stellarator is the right architecture for commercial fusion, and Thea Energy is the company that makes it commercially viable.” As Crupi put it in a press release, that’s because “Thea Energy’s breakthroughs shift complexity from precision mechanical fabrication to software-defined controls.”
Newcleo is the latest small modular reactor startup seeking a quick pathway to the public markets via a SPAC merger, announcing plans to list on the Nasdaq in the second half of the year after merging with a blank-check firm. The deal values the European fuel and reactor developer at $2.4 million, and is expected to deliver about $429 million in fresh capital. It comes just months after Newcleo raised $88 million in a growth financing round as the company expands into the U.S. market while continuing to fund projects across Europe.
Newcleo stands out in the crowded SMR field through its fuel and cooling strategy. It plans to run its 200-megawatt reactors on recycled fuel made from nuclear waste products like recovered plutonium and depleted uranium, and cool its reactors with liquid lead rather than water. Because liquid lead has such a high boiling point, lead-cooled reactors can operate at atmospheric pressure, reducing the need for the complex, high-pressure systems used in conventional nuclear plants and potentially improving safety along the way.
The company has already raised over $760 million to date, and CEO Stefano Buono told the Wall Street Journal that the pending SPAC could carry it through 2028 or 2029. Even that won’t be enough, however, for Newcleo to reach its target of opening a fuel factory by 2031 and bringing a commercial reactor online the following year. Not to mention that SPACs — a once rare go-to-market strategy — have a checkered history in the SMR industry. After NuScale went public via SPAC in 2022, its flagship project collapsed, taking its stock down with it and underscoring the risks that pre-revenue companies face when their early failures unfold in the public markets. On the other hand, shares of Sam Altman-backed startup Oklo’s have surged since it went public via SPAC in 2024, reaching a market cap over $11 billion, though it also has yet to build a reactor.
Newcleo’s capital push may also be tied to its strategic partnership with Oklo, as it has preliminary plans to invest up to $2 billion to develop advanced nuclear fuel facilities in the U.S. in partnership with the SMR pioneer. Earlier this week, the DOE selected Oklo — and by extension, Newcleo — to enter “advanced negotiations” to receive surplus weapons-grade plutonium for use in reactor fuel.
What’s that I hear? Another climate tech company has pivoted to the data center market? While Utilidata — an artificial intelligence-powered gridtech company — initially set out to give utilities granular insight into household-level electricity usage and grid data, it’s now raised a $40 million extension round to accelerate its shift into the data center market. As I wrote following last year’s initial $60 million tranche of Series C funding, Utilidata initially set out to get its hardware module inside residential smart meters — which it managed to do at pilot scale — to enable faster fault detection and eventually even automate load management at the household level.
Now, Utilidata is taking this same principle and applying it to the booming data center market, where so many climate tech companies are finding their first customers. The company developed its AI platform in collaboration with Nvidia, installing its modules on server racks to help data centers optimize power allocation across its facility. The company says it measures power consumption a million times per second, such that if usage on one rack is low, it can reroute electricity to parts of the data center that need it. Much like electric grids, data centers also overbuild their capacity to ensure they can handle sudden spikes in demand or hardware failures. Utilidata wants to tap into that headroom by managing power flow in real time.
Utilidata’s first commercial data center deployment is set to go live next month in Montreal in partnership with European AI cloud provider NexGen Cloud, with the startup targeting a 50% increase in the data center’s usable processing power. It also plans to use this latest funding to increase headcount by 25% this year as it builds out operations at its new Ann Arbor headquarters, which opened in February.
In some later-stage funding news, battery energy storage developer, owner, and operator Goshe Energy Storage just secured up to $40 million in strategic financing from S2G investments. As I wrote last week, S2G recently raised a $1 billion fund aimed at helping growth-stage companies commercialize, though this latest commitment actually comes from a different arm of the firm — its Special Opportunities team. This division focuses on non-dilutive financing, in this case providing Goshe with a HoldCo loan backed by the company’s portfolio of energy storage projects. Rather than lending to a specific project, a HoldCo loan gives Goshe flexible capital that can be used to fund its broader growth.
Founded in 2022, Goshe specializes in acquiring late-stage battery storage projects and getting them over the finish line by securing capital and managing the construction process into commercial operations. Thus far, all of its announced projects are in Texas’ ERCOT electricity market. Alongside this financing announcement, Goshe said that its first project — a 100-megawatt battery storage plant in Bexar County, Texas — is now fully operational after securing $288 million in project financing. The company also expects to bring its second project, a 180-megawatt storage facility, online in the following few months, with two additional ERCOT projects slated to begin construction later this year.
This funding is the latest sign that infrastructure investors have grown comfortable backing battery energy storage projects, with a record 24.3 gigawatts of new battery storage capacity projected to come online in the U.S. this year alone. The wholesale ERCOT market, however, is no longer the guaranteed moneymaker that it was just a few years ago. Between January 2024 and January 2026, ERCOT more than tripled its battery storage capacity, driving battery revenues down as the market has become increasingly crowded. In this landscape, there may be a growing number of stranded projects for Goshe to acquire, though it’ll also have to be increasingly selective.
The American climate movement is beginning to look a lot like AI doomers versus the techno-optimists. It’s a dynamic that is winning local bans – and very little else for now.
On one side, you’ve got the left-leaning insurgent grassroots movement against data centers. In many cases this push is in the name of climate action and environmental justice, with activists citing the risks of pollution from gas-fired power and the potential for strain on existing electricity supplies. But in many, many other cases, this movement is decidedly not about climate action; instead it’s a movement addressing everything from energy prices and power over large corporations to AI use generally.
Or, perhaps the anti-data center movement’s big tent is best summarized in this quote from comedian and activist Ilana Glazer: “The thing that is genuinely waiting for us on the other side of AI and data centers is the collective.”
On the other end of the spectrum, you have a raft of data center-curious centrists, liberals, and, for lack of a better term, capitalists. This diametrically oppositional political force wants to ensure data centers continue being built as states and the federal government figure out how to make policy surrounding them. Yes, they want regulations, but they’ll have to qualify even supporting the idea of a single full state – any state – pausing data centers.
“I tend to find myself in the middle of all of this AI and data center policy, because I don’t think a heavy-handed approach in either direction is smart or productive,” said Tre Easton, vice president of public affairs for the Searchlight Institute, a policy think tank geared toward pushing Democrats into positions more broadly popular in the general electorate. “If you’re doing moratoria in one state and Meta says, okay, fine, they’ll go to a different state where they’ll run roughshod.” He added: “This buildout is happening. Let’s just make the rules. Put out rules of what this should look like.”
I spent weeks talking to activists fighting data centers to better understand their end goals. Right now what folks want to talk about most is moratoria, until industry-specific regulation is in place governing all things energy, water, noise, and labor.
“Our motto is ban, legislate, regulate,” said Ben Dziobek, founder of Climate Revolution Action Network, which is fighting data center expansion in New Jersey. Dziobek’s organization is one of roughly five dozen in the Garden State that have called on newly-elected Democratic Gov. Mikie Sherill to institute a moratorium on data centers, including state representatives from The Nature Conservancy and ACLU.
When I asked Dziobek what he’d like to see after a moratorium, the answer was clear: he wants to see Big Tech pay for the energy transition. “It would be beneficial if we could get companies who are using more load than entire states to build out the clean energy future. Someone’s gotta pay for this. The largest companies in the world have to come in.”
Undoubtedly this movement is increasingly influential and rooted in a now bipartisan concern about data centers founded in valid concerns about data center impacts and the rise of AI. But at least right now, In New Jersey, and so many other Democrat-controlled states, this movement has won little ground outside the local level and no statewide Democratic leader (e.g. governor) has made a data center moratorium their raison d'être. Neither have I seen the push for a moratorium pick up steam in any state known as a deep blue bastion for climate policy. Its greatest achievements by the numbers are the cancellation rate of projects that have faced local pushback (37%, according to Heatmap Pro), the city-wide moratoria in large left-leaning bastions like Denver, and the sheer existence of a federal data center moratorium bill led by progressive celebrities like Sen. Bernie Sanders and Rep. Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez.
In fact, what I am seeing is Democratic statewide leaders rejecting efforts to curtail their development or regulate energy and water usage. In California last year, Gov. Gavin Newsom vetoed a bill requiring data center developers to report their water use. In New York, Gov. Kathy Hochul has so far shrugged off a push for her to back a three-year moratorium on new data centers. In Massachusetts, Gov. Maura Healey supports continuing to foster the state’s data center buildout and the state is preserving its data center sales tax exemption at a time when GOP leaders in other states want to repeal similar subsidies. Colorado legislators abandoned a push to regulate data centers earlier this month, after Washington state did the same.
Perhaps infamously in Maine, the Democrat-led state legislature nearly enacted a two-year moratorium on data center development only to be vetoed by Gov. Janet Mills. Democrats then failed to override the veto.
Some Democratic leaders are taking up the light-touch approach. On Wednesday, Pennsylvania Gov. Josh Shapiro released long-awaited principles for data center developers seeking fast-track permitting processes with state agencies. Under these policies, companies can get permitted more quickly if they abide by a number of energy, water, and labor standards.
On a granular level, even this policy quietly represented a disappointment for climate activists. One of the principles called for data centers to get at least one third of their power from “clean” sources by 2035 – which sounds nice until you realize Shapiro only two years ago was calling for utilities to get at least half of their electricity from carbon-free sources by then. Food & Water Watch, a national group calling for country-wide data center moratoria, blasted a press release going after Shapiro to the media after the principles were released: “[This] is a naive effort to placate widespread data center opposition. It won’t work.”
For climate activists, the best case scenario right now may be blue states taking up bills to regulate the sector as opposed to a blanket moratorium, where the push for a pause functions as leverage. Often these bills are focused on energy costs for consumers, not environmental protection, like in Oregon where last year legislators enacted a measure requiring data center companies to pay for their share of electricity demand. In Vermont this week, the state legislature passed a similar bipartisan data center bill focused on energy affordability, with some restrictions on fossil fuel generation. (Republican Gov. Phil Scott is expected to sign it.)
Indeed, the climate movement’s smartest play could be to push legislation requiring facilities not only pay for their power but ensure it is zero-carbon emissions. So far, Democrat-led bills that would accomplish this goal gained steam this year in other states but struggled to become law before the end of the legislative session too (Washington, for example).
In Illinois, the bill is known as the POWER Act, but despite lots of Democratic support behind it, it’s languishing in committee limbo ahead of the end of legislative session this week. One can imagine Illinois Gov. J.B. Pritzker getting a bill like the POWER Act into law and then running for president as The Guy Who Made Data Centers Cleaner. Heaven knows that’s why folks like Hannah Flath, climate communications manager for the Illinois Environmental Council, are so bullish on the bill. “I think it’ll eventually become law. Just not this session.”
I asked Flath why her organization was so focused on this bill as opposed to a data center moratorium. “We just don’t think it is politically feasible. Especially given how attractive these things are to our governor and some state lawmakers,” she said. “Currently, I view climate work as harm reduction work. This is perhaps a cynical view to have but that’s unfortunately where we’re at. How can we ensure changes happening in the world bring more benefits than they do harms?”
But Flath said that as a push for moratoria grows, it provides pressure on state policymakers to act: “What we’re offering state legislators now is a middle ground solution.”
I suppose for now, we’ll have to see if this side can come together on any solution – let alone a middle ground.