You’re out of free articles.
Log in
To continue reading, log in to your account.
Create a Free Account
To unlock more free articles, please create a free account.
Sign In or Create an Account.
By continuing, you agree to the Terms of Service and acknowledge our Privacy Policy
Welcome to Heatmap
Thank you for registering with Heatmap. Climate change is one of the greatest challenges of our lives, a force reshaping our economy, our politics, and our culture. We hope to be your trusted, friendly, and insightful guide to that transformation. Please enjoy your free articles. You can check your profile here .
subscribe to get Unlimited access
Offer for a Heatmap News Unlimited Access subscription; please note that your subscription will renew automatically unless you cancel prior to renewal. Cancellation takes effect at the end of your current billing period. We will let you know in advance of any price changes. Taxes may apply. Offer terms are subject to change.
Subscribe to get unlimited Access
Hey, you are out of free articles but you are only a few clicks away from full access. Subscribe below and take advantage of our introductory offer.
subscribe to get Unlimited access
Offer for a Heatmap News Unlimited Access subscription; please note that your subscription will renew automatically unless you cancel prior to renewal. Cancellation takes effect at the end of your current billing period. We will let you know in advance of any price changes. Taxes may apply. Offer terms are subject to change.
Create Your Account
Please Enter Your Password
Forgot your password?
Please enter the email address you use for your account so we can send you a link to reset your password:
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.
Get one great climate story in your inbox every day:
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.
Read more about carbon removal:
Log in
To continue reading, log in to your account.
Create a Free Account
To unlock more free articles, please create a free account.
Just as demand for batteries is intensifying.
The energy impacts of the continued crisis in the Persian Gulf are obvious. Countries that rely on the natural gas and oil from the region are dealing with higher prices, and in some cases are trying to tamp down their demand for fuel and electricity to keep prices under control, not to mention maintain basic energy availability.
But it’s not just gas-fired power plants and internal combustion engines that are feeling the pinch.
The consequences of the effective closure of the Strait of Hormuz go well beyond the set of energy commodities typically associated with the Persian Gulf, including a vast array of minerals and petrochemicals, including many necessary to produce clean energy. We’ve already covered aluminum, a key component of solar panels, cars, and batteries, which requires so much energy for processing that almost 10% of it is produced in the Middle East, where fuel is abundant.
Now another chemical essential to the battery supply chain is seeing price hikes and supply reductions: sulfuric acid.
Sulfuric acid is used in refining and processing several metals and minerals key to the energy transition, including copper, cobalt, nickel, and lithium. Copper is used throughout EVs and other clean technologies, while nickel and cobalt are used in cathodes in lithium-ion batteries — which, of course, also contain lithium. Shortages or higher prices of sulfuric acid could lead to shortages or higher prices for batteries and electric vehicles, just as consumers flock to them to help mitigate the impacts of rising fossil fuel costs.
Sulfur is a byproduct of oil and natural gas refining, hence about half of seaborne sulfur comes from the Middle East, according to Argus Media, but only a handful of sulfur-bearing vessels have transited the Strait of Hormuz since the war began. In response to the disruption, China, the world’s top exporter of sulfuric acid, began restricting shipments abroad, according to S&P.
Sulfuric acid “is an irreplaceable input in the manufacture of renewable energy materials, such as silicon wafers in solar panels; the nickel, cobalt, and rare earths in wind turbine magnets and electric vehicle (EV) motors; and the copper wiring in every grid connection and transformer,” wrote Atlantic Council fellow Alvin Camba in an analysis for the think tank.
“Most elemental sulfur comes from the Middle East,” Camba told me, “and it goes to places like Indonesia,” where metals are processed to “produce the batteries for a lot of vehicles for companies like Tesla, BYD, and Honda.”
Shortages of sulfuric acid will likely hit Indonesia especially hard. The country produces about 60% of the world’s nickel, but has only about a month’s inventory of sulfur, according to a team of Morgan Stanley analysts. “We believe the energy shock is reverberating and will sustain beyond the reopening of the Strait of Hormuz,” the analysts wrote of China’s export restrictions. “It will keep fuel markets tighter, lift the cost curve for Indonesian nickel, and raise refining margins in Asia. Higher energy prices will show up in food, tech and battery supply chains.”
Already, according to Morgan Stanley, “several” Indonesian nickel producers have reduced their output by at least 10% from last month. In the Democratic Republic of Congo, copper and cobalt miners are reducing their use of chemicals in their operations and considering cutting output.
Battery manufacturers are already seeing higher costs for their materials. The Chinese battery giant (and Tesla supplier) CATL saw its profit margins decline quarter-over-quarter revenue growth due to “cost pressure,” Morningstar analyst Vincent Sun wrote last week in a note to clients — and that’s despite greater sales volumes as consumers attempt to escape fossil fuel-dependency. As sulfuric acid rises in price, the battery companies will also be competing with agribusiness, who use sulfuric acid to produce phosphate fertilizers, Camba told me.
Even Ivanhoe Mines chief executive and metal and mining mega-bull Robert Friedland said in a statement last week, “If the closure of the Straits of Hormuz continues … second-derivative effect will be on global copper production due to the shortage of the world’s most important industrial chemical, sulfuric acid.” Friedland described the market for sulfur and sulfuric acid as “extremely tight.”
That also spells bad news for lithium, the namesake mineral used in EV batteries. Around half of global lithium production comes from spodumene, a hard rock mined largely in Western Australia. Refining that rock requires a "shitload" of sulfuric acid, Nathaniel Horadam, the founder and president of Full Tilt Strategies, told me, through an energy intensive process known as “acid baking.”
Australian mines were already suffering from high diesel prices and shortages due to the conflict in Iran, according to Argus Media. The high price of sulfuric acid could put a squeeze on margins for lithium refining, which largely occurs in China.
“If their production costs go up, that’s going to be factoring into their market pricing,” Horadam said. “I would expect all those prices to go up in the short to medium term until this stuff kind of settles.”
The other major threat to battery makers specifically, Horadam said, was shortages of petrochemicals like ethylene, which is used in the production of plastics, and polyethylene, a polymer often used in plastic bags.
Ethylene is often made from ethane, a natural gas liquid, or naphtha, a refined petroleum product and production in the Persian Gulf has been severely disrupted by the Hormuz crisis. As of March, Asian petrochemical producers had already reduced their output in anticipation of shortages.
Polyethylene is also a crucial component in lithium-ion batteries, where it’s often used in the “separator,” which physically divides the cathode from the anode. Even the Trump administration has thrown its support behind polyethylene in battery manufacturing A $1.3 billion loan from the Department of Energy’s in-house bank to finance a separator manufacturing facility in Indiana survived the Trump administration’s gutting of that office, with $77 million getting disbursed last September. (Notably, the Trump-era announcement dropped a reference to electric vehicles and instead enumerated separators’ uses in “data centers, energy storage, and consumer electronics.”)
Over 40% of lithium-ion separators are produced in China with the “bulk” of them produced in Asia, according to the DOE, which makes support for domestic production paramount to maintaining international competitiveness and domestic supply chains.
“We’re relying on the Chinese and Japanese to produce all our separators and electrolytes and such,” Horadam said. “This sulfuric stuff is getting all the attention because it’s pretty obvious in terms of visible, salient minerals that are directly impacted, but I wouldn’t sleep on separators and binding agents.”
The opinion covered a host of actions the administration has taken to slow or halt renewables development.
A federal court seems to have struck down a swath of Trump administration moves to paralyze solar and wind permits.
U.S. District Judge Denise Casper on Tuesday enjoined a raft of actions by the Trump administration that delayed federal renewable energy permits, granting a request submitted by regional trade groups. The plaintiffs argued that tactics employed by various executive branch agencies to stall permits violated the Administrative Procedures Act. Casper — an Obama appointee — agreed in a 73-page opinion, asserting that the APA challenge was likely to succeed on the merits.
The ruling is a potentially fatal blow to five key methods the Trump administration has used to stymie federal renewable energy permitting. It appears to strike down the Interior Department memo requiring sign-off from Interior Secretary Doug Burgum on all major approvals, as well as instructions that the Interior and the Army Corps of Engineers prioritize “energy dense” projects in ways likely to benefit fossil fuels. Also struck down: a ban on access to a Fish and Wildlife Service species database and an Interior legal opinion targeting offshore wind leases.
Casper found a litany of reasons the five actions may have violated the Administrative Procedures Act. For example, the memo mandating political reviews was “a significant departure from [Interior] precedent,” and therefore “required a ‘more detailed justification’ than that needed for merely implementing a new policy.” The “energy density” permitting rubric, meanwhile, “conflicts” with federal laws governing federal energy leases so it likely violated the APA, the judge wrote.
What’s next is anyone’s guess. Some cynical readers may wonder whether the Supreme Court will just lift the preliminary injunction at the administration’s request. It’s worth noting Casper had the High Court’s penchant for neutralizing preliminary injunctions in mind, writing in her opinion, “The Court concludes that the scope of this requested injunctive relief is appropriate and consistent with the Supreme Court’s limitations on nationwide injunctions.”
On China’s H2 breakthrough, vehicle-to-grid charging, and USA Rare Earth goes to Brazil
Current conditions: In the Atlantic, Tropical Storm Fernand is heading northward toward Bermuda • In the Pacific, Tropic Storm Juliette is active about 520 miles southwest of Baja California, with winds of up to 65 miles per hour • Temperatures are surging past 100 degrees Fahrenheit in South Korea.
Nearly two weeks ago, Vineyard Wind sued one of its suppliers, GE Vernova, to keep the industrial giant from exiting the offshore wind project off the coast of Nantucket in Massachusetts. Now a U.S. court has ordered GE Vernova to finish the job, saying it would be “fanciful” to imagine a new contractor could complete the installation. GE Vernova had argued that Vineyard Wind — a 50/50 joint venture between the European power giant Avangrid and Copenhagen Infrastructure Partners — owed it $300 million for work already performed. But Vineyard Wind countered that the manufacturer remains on the hook for about $545 million to make up for a catastrophic turbine blade collapse in 2024, according to WBUR. “The project is at a critical phase and the loss of [Vineyard Wind]’s principal contractor would set the project back immeasurably,” the Suffolk County Superior Court Judge Peter Krupp wrote in his decision, repeatedly using the name of GE Vernova’s renewables subsidiary. “To pretend that [Vineyard Wind] could go out and hire one or more contractors to finish the installation and troubleshoot and modify [GE Renewables’] proprietary design without [GE Renewables’] specialized knowledge is fanciful.”
Charlotte DeWald fears the world is sleepwalking into tipping points beyond which the Earth’s natural carbon cycles will render climate change uncontrollable. By the time we realize what it means for global weather and agricultural systems that there’s no sea ice in the Arctic sometime in the 2030s, for example, it may be too late to try anything drastic to buy us more time. Much of the discourse around what to do concerns a specific kind of geoengineering called stratospheric aerosol injections, essentially spraying reflective particles into the sky to block the sun’s heat from permeating the increasingly thick layer of greenhouse gases that prevent that energy from naturally radiating back into space. That’s something DeWald, a former Pacific Northwest National Laboratory researcher and climate scientist by training who specialized in modeling aerosol-cloud interactions, knows all about. But her approach is different, using a technology known as mixed-phase cloud thinning, a process similar to cloud seeding. “The idea is that you could dissipate clouds over the Arctic to release heat from the surface to, for example, increase sea ice extent or thickness or integrity,” she told me. “There’s some early modeling that suggests that it could yield significant cooling over the Arctic Ocean.”
With all that context, you can now appreciate the exclusive bit of news I have for you this morning: DeWald is launching a new nonprofit called the Arctic Stabilization Initiative to “evaluate whether targeted interventions can slow dangerous” warming near the Earth’s northern pole. So far, ASI has raised $6.5 million in philanthropic funding toward a five-year budget goal of $55 million to study whether MCT, as mixed-phase cloud thinning is known, could help save the Arctic. The nonprofit has an advisory board stacked with veteran Arctic scientists and put together a “stage-gated” research plan with offramps in case early modeling suggests MCT won’t work or could cause undue environmental damage. The project also has an eye toward engaging with Indigenous peoples and “will ground all future work in respect for Indigenous sovereignty, before any field-based research activity is pursued.” The statement harkens to Harvard University’s SCoPEx trial, a would-be outdoor experiment in spraying reflective aerosols into the atmosphere over Sweden that ran aground after researchers initially failed to consult local stakeholders and a body representing the Indigenous Saami people in the northern reaches of Nordic nations came out against the testing. (By repeatedly invoking ASI’s nonprofit status, DeWald also seemed to draw a contrast with for-profit stratospheric aerosol injection startup Stardust Solutions, which last year Heatmap’s Robinson Meyer reported had raised $60 million.) “We are continuing to move toward critical planetary thresholds without a bible plan for things like tipping points,” DeWald said. “That was the inflection point for me.”

China just took yet another step closer to energy independence, despite its relatively tiny domestic reserves of oil and gas, kicking off the world’s largest project to blend hydrogen into the natural gas system. As part of the experiment, roughly 100,000 households in the center of the Weifang, a prefecture-level city in eastern Shandong province between Beijing and Shanghai, will receive a blend of up to 10% hydrogen through existing gas pipes. The pilot’s size alone “smashes” the world record, according to Hydrogen Insight. Whether that’s meaningful from a climate perspective depends on how you look at things. A fraction of 1% of China’s hydrogen fuel comes from electrolyzer plants powered by clean renewables or nuclear electricity. But the People’s Republic still produces more green hydrogen than any other nation. Last year, the central government made cleaning up heavy industry with green hydrogen a higher priority — a goal that’s been supercharged by the war in Iran. Therein lies the real biggest motivator now. While China relies on imports for natural gas, swapping out more of that fuel for domestically generated hydrogen allows Beijing to claim the moral high ground on emissions and air pollution — all while becoming more energy independent.
Meanwhile, China’s container ships are the latest sector to experiment with going electric and forgoing the need for costly, dirty bunker fuel. A 10,000-ton fully electric cargo vessel capable of carrying 742 shipping containers just started up operations in China this week, according to a video posted on X by China’s Xinhua News service.
Sign up to receive Heatmap AM in your inbox every morning:
The ability of electric vehicles to serve as distributed energy resources, charging in times of low demand and discharging back onto the grid when demand peaks, has long been a dream of EV enthusiasts and DER advocates alike. California’s PG&E utility launched a small bi-directional charging program in 2023, allowing owners of Ford F-150 Lightnings to use their trucks as home backup power, and eventually feed energy back onto the grid. The utility added a host of General Motors EVs to the program back in 2025. On Monday, it announced its latest vehicle participant: Tesla’s Cybertruck. The Tesla vehicle will be the first in the program to run on alternating current, which simplifies the equipment necessary and lowers costs for consumers, according to PG&E’s announcement.
In January, I told you about the then-latest company to benefit from President Donald Trump’s dabbling in what you might call state capitalism with American characteristics: USA Rare Earth. The vertically integrated company, which aims to mine rare earths in Texas, took big leaps forward in the past year toward building factories to turn those metals into the magnets needed for modern technologies. For now, however, the company needs ore. On Monday, USA Rare Earth announced plans to buy Brazilian rare earth miner Serra Verde in a deal valued at $2.8 billion in cash and shares. The transaction is expected to be complete by the end of the third quarter of this year. The company pitched the move as a direct challenge to China, which dominates both the processing of rare earths mined at home and abroad. “The world has become too dependent on a single source and it’s high time to break that dependency,” USA Rare Earth CEO Barbara Humpton told CNBC’s “Squawk Box” on Monday.
As if we needed more evidence that the data center backlash is “swallowing American politics,” here’s Heatmap’s Jael Holzman with yet another data point: According to tracking from the Heatmap Pro database, fights against data centers now outnumber fights against wind farms in the U.S. That includes both onshore and offshore wind developments. “Taken together,” Jael wrote, “these numbers describe the tremendous power involved in the data center wars.”