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If the “nuclear renaissance” is here, it’s happening only in certain kinds of places. California and New York aren’t getting new reactors capable of generating massive amounts of always-on, carbon-free power — instead projects are being completed and planned in Tennessee, Georgia, and Idaho. It’s not all red state friendliness to new development and blue state fears of nuclear waste either. It’s really about how electricity markets are organized across the United States.
There’s simply little new nuclear activity in the vast swaths of the country, like much of the Northeast and Midwest, Texas, and California, where electricity markets have been partially or completely “deregulated,” meaning that utilities largely buy electricity from generators and distribute it to consumers in something like a free market. Instead, nuclear projects are popping up in markets, like those in the South and Mountain West, where utilities still control both electricity generation (think power plants) and the distribution of that electricity to customers and where public power companies can still predominate in the market. In these areas, energy companies have the scale, authority, access to investment, and captive customer base necessary to embark on capital intensive projects like nuclear generators.
This is of note because the Department of Energy estimates that in order to decarbonize the power system, some 550 to 770 gigawatts of new clean firm capacity, meaning generators that can be turned on 24/7, will be necessary. While this could include geothermal, solar or wind paired with batteries, or pumped hydro, there’s already some 94 gigawatts of existing nuclear capacity that the Energy Department anticipates could scale to around 300 gigawatts by 2050.
Where that’s been expanded recently is not necessarily the parts of the country that have an aggressive mandate to decarbonize.
Consider Georgia’s Vogtle-3 reactor, the United States’ first new nuclear reactor in years. The end result is a staggering amount of non-carbon-emitting power, but delivered at an eye-wateringly high cost (some $16 billion overbudget) in a market set-up where an investor-owned, vertically integrated utility — Georgia Power, a subsidiary of Southern Company — is able to charge ratepayers for high construction costs. Or Watts Bar Unit 2, a new reactor built by the Tennessee Valley Authority, a government power company with a monopoly on electricity in Tennessee and bordering states (it had its own set of delays — for decades — and cost overruns).
A similar dynamic is at work when it comes to the next generation of nuclear technology. The Carbon Free Power Project is a planned set of small modular reactors at the Idaho National Laboratory that a coalition of Mountain West public utilities have been working on and hope to make operational by the end of the decade.
The dream of small modular reactors is that, by standardizing construction processes and parts and also by literally making the projects smaller, construction costs for nuclear power can be brought down as more projects get completed. That being said, the Carbon Free Power Project has still reported large cost escalations. And it’s doing so with funding from the Department of Energy that could amount to around $1.3 billion of the over $9 billion it’s expected to cost if the project actually starts generating power as scheduled in 2029. Some members of the coalition have already dropped out and the projected price of power generated by the reactors has increased.
That’s not a huge surprise. Cost is really what’s holding back nuclear power.
The great scaling of renewable power across the country has been, its advocates always like to say, a triumph of the market. Wind and solar projects, while expensive to set up, are cheap to operate over time, in part because they have no fuel costs, compared to thermal plants which must acquire and combust coal, oil, or natural gas. In fact, around two thirds of the price of natural gas-generated power comes from the fuel itself, which actually hasn’t been a huge problem for natural gas over the past 15 years since it’s been so cheap.
On the other hand, the vast majority of the costs of nuclear power come from the expense of building its generators, according to an analysis by Brian Potter, a fellow at the Institute for Progress and a contributor to Heatmap. With gargantuan capital requirements and long construction timelines, interest payments on financing can end up doubling the total costs of nuclear plants. When those costs get reflected in the price of nuclear energy on so-called deregulated electricity markets, it becomes uncompetitive.
Regulated markets are a different story, however. Utilities that own power plants have massive cash flows and legally mandated profits that let them borrow huge amounts of money at the lower costs necessary to finance large, capital-intensive construction projects like nuclear plants — and then put the costs directly into ratepayers' bills.
“These larger utilities have a larger balance sheet, they can carry a larger project on their books without it being a huge percentage of their net debt at any point in time,” Adam Stein, the director of the Nuclear Energy Innovation program at the Breakthrough Institute, told me. The Tennessee Valley Authority also has a large capacity to carry debt, while public power companies “have experience and expertise internally in how to engage in the DOE grant process,” Stein said.
Critics of deregulation and advocates for nuclear power argue that the way those markets work does not properly value power that is not variable, like wind and solar, and can keep their fuel stored on site, unlike gas, which relies on pipelines. Despite the unique role it can play on the grid, nuclear power still has to compete on the same playing field as other assets which are intermittent or rely on getting fuel, Stein explained.
But utilities that control both generation and distribution aren’t immune from market forces, even if they can withstand them better. One reason why deregulation took hold in much of the county is precisely because there was so much backlash to utilities’ nuclear power plant projects that were more expensive than projected and assumed more electricity demand than there actually was.
“The ratepayers were paying a lot for the nuclear plants, and they were unhappy with it,” Meredith Angwin, an energy analyst and critic of deregulation, told me. “Cost per megawatt of nuclear plants, it’s just rising. There’s a learning curve that makes things less expensive — with nuclear it goes the other way.” Figuring out exactly why this happened — and how to reverse it — has been the great challenge of the nuclear industry and energy policy experts.
Many advocates for increased use of nuclear power see new construction techniques, plant designs, and more well-tailored regulation as the answer to these rising costs.
And while there have been large declines in the cost of renewables over the past decade, wind and solar projects have run into cost issues recently thanks to economy-wide inflation and specific issues with supply chains.
Offshore wind in the United States, which currently has a few dozen megawatts of capacity that the Biden administration wants to scale up to 30 gigawatts, is facing a crisis of high costs, with wind developers demanding more money to complete projects and even threatening to cancel them altogether, lest they get access to more subsidies. It’s a story we’ve heard before.
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Building a data center is also quite carbon-intensive.
When I helped start Heatmap News three years ago, I didn’t think I would be writing this much about big tech companies.
I knew that, sure, they were crucial to America’s ability to develop and scale some next-generation emissions-reducing technologies. (By then, Microsoft had already started its huge carbon removal purchasing program.) And, yes, I knew they bought a lot of renewables. But I still understood their clean energy programs chiefly as an employee perk — a way for some of the economy’s richest firms to show their largely urban, college-educated, and liberal employees that they cared.
Perhaps that was true once. It’s not true anymore. Over the past several years, the tech companies have become major electricity consumers and producers in their own right. Artificial intelligence has turned their electricity procurement and development businesses into core operational competencies. (Meta and Microsoft have even considered entering the electricity trading business.) Some of the thorniest questions in climate policy were first encountered by these tech companies.
More importantly, their hunger for electricity has transformed them into quasi-industrial companies — and given them enough heft in the market to sometimes counterbalance (and sometimes collaborate with) the utilities and fossil fuel firms that previously steered the sector. As such, they’re now crucial parts of the U.S. decarbonization story.
Three companies in particular dominate the artificial intelligence cloud business: Google, Amazon, and Microsoft.
The country’s best-known frontier labs, such as OpenAI and Anthropic, rely on these companies to provide their compute power; Amazon Web Services is the backbone of virtually the entire online software industry. Amazon, Google, and Microsoft account for more than half of the country’s data center power capacity, according to the investment firm Jeffries.
So these companies’ emissions are, in a sense, not only their own; they also give us a view into the AI industry’s carbon footprint more broadly.
Over the past two weeks, all three of these cloud providers released their energy and emissions data for the past year, and we’ve looked at the top line findings from these reports in past editions. Today I want to briefly dive into what they could mean together.
Let’s handle the part you already know: Everyone’s emissions are up.
Microsoft’s emissions grew by 25% last year, their largest year-over-year leap since the pandemic. Amazon’s emissions leapt by 16%, its largest one-year increase ever. Google’s emissions increased by 18%, rising above their pre-pandemic level.
This surge will make the companies’ climate goals increasingly difficult to meet — and some of them are coming up fast. Microsoft has pledged to become ‘carbon negative’ by 2030, meaning it must remove more climate pollution from the atmosphere than it emits in that year. Google has pledged to achieve net zero by 2030, a goal that requires — by its own estimate — cutting its emissions in half by that year, as compared to their 2019 level. Amazon, meanwhile, has pledged to achieve net-zero in its operations by 2040.
All three firms’ greenhouse gas emissions are up because of the AI data center boom. Microsoft consumes nearly four times as much electricity as it did before the pandemic; Google’s electricity use has more than doubled.
These companies’ energy use has swelled, too, but at least as of last year, nearly all of their energy demand still took the form of electricity. When we think about “electrification” in the national context, perhaps we should think at least as much about these AI megalodons as we do about heat pump or battery manufacturers.
Amazon, to its shame, does not publish recent electricity usage data, so it doesn’t appear on either of these charts.
But outsiders have estimated its power consumption based on the numbers it does publish. Hendrik Rood, an IT researcher and consultant in the Netherlands, calculates that Amazon’s data center business used 78,000 gigawatt-hours in 2025. That would mean it consumes nearly as much electricity as Microsoft and Google combined.
As I cautioned yesterday, some of these figures are already outdated. Although all three companies just released their 2025 sustainability data, Microsoft brackets its report to the fiscal year, which ended on June 30, 2025. Google and Amazon’s data covers the calendar year.
In what might be a quirk inherent to the genre, all three sustainability reports have a somewhat defensive tone (or at least a writing style that tries to anticipate quibbles). These companies know that their sustainability pledges, embraced in the heady flush of 2020 and 2021, have become much more difficult to fulfill in the AI era. And they want you to know that all of their emissions could be worse — if not for their corporate policies, pollution might be much higher.
I can’t say I find these counterfactuals entirely believable. We don’t know what Google or Microsoft or Amazon would do if, say, computing were more energy intensive or a certain process more environmentally damaging. And Jevon’s paradox suggests that every gain in efficiency — especially for a service as in-demand as AI — will make it cheaper to use AI, therefore raising its energy demand.
But I do think it’s worth sharing these claims to get some perspective. Google, for its part, says that its corporate emissions would be five times higher than they are if not for its total slate of policies:

Microsoft takes a more clinical approach. It selects four of its corporate policies: “carbon-free electricity, sustainable fuels, XBOX console efficiency,” as well as efforts to decarbonize its Surface tablet production. If not for these interventions, it says, it would have emitted 34 million tons of greenhouse gas into the atmosphere last year, not the 21 million tons that it did produce.
For all the focus on the difficulty of powering data centers (including by Heatmap), electricity does not drive most of these companies’ emissions — or it didn’t in the first half of last year, at least. The majority of Microsoft, Google, and Amazon’s greenhouse gas emissions came from what are dubbed “scope 3” emissions, a somewhat nebulous category that includes buildings, employee travel, and the full carbon footprint of their supply chain. This category reflects the AI boom in its own way.
(Skip this if you’re a sustainability nerd: In the classic schema used for corporate emissions accounting, “scope 1” emissions are direct fossil fuel pollution from an asset that the company owns or controls, “scope 2” emissions are pollution associated with the electricity, steam, or chilled water purchased by the company, and “scope 3” emissions are everything else — pollution from the company’s upstream supply chain and its downstream product use. I find this scheme makes somewhat more sense for businesses like airlines and automakers than it does for technology conglomerates. But that’s a different newsletter.)
It makes sense, then, that Amazon should have huge scope 3 emissions. The scope 3 subcategory called “Purchased Goods and Services” drives the largest share of its emissions; these include pollution from goods and services that Amazon buys for its employees to use, as well as all the embodied carbon in its line of Amazon Basics products.
But the biggest driver of scope 3 emissions — and thus for emissions overall — for Microsoft and Google came from “capital goods,” a category that covers new construction, physical assets and other fixed infrastructure used to produce products and services. More than 40% of Microsoft’s total emissions came from capital goods, and they made up more than 9 million metric tons of the company’s greenhouse gases. Google doesn’t fully aggregate out its “capital goods” category, combining it with the “use of sold products” subcategory, but it was responsible for almost 9 million tons as well.
These capital goods include the new data centers themselves: all the cement, steel, server racks, and silicon that actually make up the physical infrastructure supporting the AI boom. Here at Heatmap, we often focus on the electricity sector because it’s where so much change. But it’s good to remember that construction remains enormously carbon-intensive, and the literal buildings that house AI are, in many cases, still driving a disproportionate amount of emissions.
The July 4 heat wave showed just how far the metropolis has to go to reach its decarbonization goals.
New York City’s decarbonization plan has stalled. The events of this year’s Fourth of July weekend all but prove it.
The temperature in the city reached as high as 100 degrees Fahrenheit on Thursday, July 2, the hottest it’s been here in 14 years. As New Yorkers blasted their air conditioners to stay cool, utilities drew on all of New York’s resources to serve the resulting electricity demand for cooling. These included a fleet of dual-fuel power plants, which can burn both oil and natural gas and encompasses many of its peakers, which turn on to deal with spikes of demand.
Those dual-fuel plants pushed over 10 gigawatts of electricity onto the grid on the evening of July 1— about a third of the total load in the state — and hit similar peaks on the 2nd and 3rd. The peaker fleet owned and operated by the New York Power Authority was operational for over two-thirds of the heat wave, which persisted for four consecutive days, while some ran nonstop from 7 a.m. July 2 to 3 a.m. July 4, according to NYPA.
In response to questions about the use of its peakers during the heat wave, a NYPA spokesperson told me, “During times of peak energy demand, like last week’s heat wave, the state’s independent grid operator called upon NYPA’s Small Natural Gas Power Plants to run well beyond their typical usage to meet high energy needs and prevent localized blackouts.”
While specific generator information is a protected trade secret, they said, “capacity suppliers are critical resources to meet system peak loads like those experienced during the recent heatwave.”
And yet still, over 100,000 people lost power during the heat wave. Real-time electricity prices in the area of the New York grid that includes the city got as high as $1,465 per megawatt-hour on the evening of July 3, according to data collected by Grid Status.
At the same time, the latest addition to New York’s non-carbon electricity generation fleet, a transmission line from Quebec that can transmit up to 1,250 megawatts known as the Champlain Hudson Power Express, was struggling. It experienced an unplanned outage on July 1, the first day of the heat wave, followed by a second outage beginning on July 4 that still had not been resolved as of Friday.
Since 2014, the city has had an aspirational goal of reducing emissions by 80% of its 2005 levels by 2050. CHPE was a major part of that plan, which also included offshore wind and utility-scale solar. There has been progress: Of the 1,000 megawatts of solar the city aims to have installed by 2030, about two thirds have been built. Even so, about 90% of New York City’s electricity came from fossil fuels in 2025, according to the city’s comptroller.
Why the difficulty decarbonizing? Blame a mixture of policy and geography. New York City is dense and has a lot of old buildings with old heating systems. Reducing consumption of fossil fuels requires getting cars off the road (congestion pricing) and retrofitting buildings with electric appliances (Local Law 97).
But that’s the demand side — the supply side is far trickier. Utility-scale non-carbon-emitting power on the orders of hundreds of megawatts or a gigawatt will have to be built elsewhere and piped in via transmission lines. That means offshore wind, solar (ideally with battery storage), and maybe one day nuclear power.
To the extent New York City can build solar and storage locally, it means dealing with a thicket of building regulations and local opposition. Efforts to shut down or replace peaker plants in the city have run into a brick wall at the New York Independent System Operator, which has declared that at least some peakers will have to stay online through the end of the decade to maintain system-wide reliability.
The only other new source of carbon-free power currently under construction is the offshore wind project Empire Wind, due to come online in 2027. NYISO said last year that without CHPE, Empire, and two local transmission projects planned to enter service by 2030, New York City would be “deficient in the summer” through 2030.
Of course developers have scrapped several other offshore wind projects over the years, whether due to problems procuring the right size turbine or the Trump administration buying out their lease. And though New York Governor Kathy Hochul pledged last summer to develop at least a gigawatt of new nuclear capacity in the northern region of the state, that is probably a decade away from fruition.
Meanwhile the Clean Path transmission line, which was meant to connect New York City to several gigawatts of new wind, solar and hydropower, saw its contracts canceled in late 2024 as its projected costs continued to rise. Last year, utility regulators shut down an effort by the state-run New York Power Authority to take it over as a “priority transmission project,” questioning whether it was “needed expeditiously” to meet downstate reliability needs and arguing that the project “will not be needed to serve substantial amounts of generation until well after 2033, and possibly not until 2040.”
While the city has some utility-scale battery storage systems, would-be developers have faced intense local opposition. Fullmark Energy, for instance, scrapped a planned 650-megawatt storage project after protests from political figures, including frequent mayoral candidate Curtis Sliwa. A dispute over another battery storage project in Queens has escalated into accusations of assault leveled by Councilmember Phil Wong, who called for a criminal investigation into what he said was an assault by a contractor for a project against his staffer.
So what’s left for New York City to do?
Any near-term progress will likely come from increasing efficiency and adding marginal generation capacity, as opposed to large-scale new projects and decommissioning of power plants.
“We need to max out our energy efficiency gains from Local Law 97,” former New York City Chief Climate Policy Advisor Daniel Zarelli told me, referring to a 2019 law mandating steep reductions in emissions from large buildings in the city, which came into effect two years ago. He also called for a further“push on batteries and behind the meter solar, clean energy, and energy efficiency.”
Already across the state, behind-the-meter solar is shaving off peak power demand. On the afternoon of July 2, behind-the-meter solar accounted served about 4.5 gigawatts to users, according to NYISO and Grid Status data.
Going forward, Zarelli said, the city should use its purchasing and planning power — as it did with CHPE — for projects like resurrecting Clean Path. “We need to be starting now. Maybe it’s not by 2030, but soon after we could be getting the benefit of that.”
“Battery developers started to see interconnection costs that were around 30 or 40 times what is standard,” Patrick Robbins, director of the Utility Customers Association told me. “It just means that new battery projects completely don’t pencil out and so we have a de facto moratorium on new [battery] projects.”
Advocates for solar and storage have blamed Con Edison for the city’s slow progress there, claiming that changes in the interconnection process have made it essentially cost prohibitive for battery storage developers to move forward on new projects.
Some of these fights have landed in front of New York’s Public Service Commission. In a filing, the city cited data from Con Edison showing that “the interconnection costs for some projects … have increased by thousands of percent,” citing one project whose interconnection costs jumped from $640,000 to over $35 million due to changes in how Con Edison attributed grid costs from new projects.
"Battery storage is essential to New York's clean energy future, and Con Edison strongly supports the development of energy storage when projects are deployed at the right locations, at the appropriate scale, and with operating parameters that provide the greatest benefit to customers and the electric grid,” a Con Edison spokesperson told me. “Because grid constraints vary across our system — from neighborhood‑level distribution lines to major transmission corridors — the location of a battery ultimately determines how much benefit it can deliver to the grid and to customers.”
There were 115 megawatts of battery storage operational in New York City at the end of last year, according to Con Edison, and 865 megawatts of projects with interconnection agreements. Peak load in the region is about 10,000 megawatts, meaning that these new projects would meaningfully alter the way the utility serves its customers.
Con Edison has claimed in a regulatory filing that the concentration of projects could lead to “significant impacts from BESS charging on infrastructure upstream of primary feeders,” necessitating the changes to its interconnection process. The city claimed in its filing that the added cost has “understandably chilled ongoing development activity at a time when New York City needs more supply resources capable of serving peak demand.”
When I reached out to the Mayor’s Office of Climate & Environmental Justice about the dispute, I received a statement in return from New York City Chief Climate Officer Louise Yeung: “Expanding battery storage capacity will be critical to New York City’s clean energy future, as extreme climate events continue to strain our grid system,” she said. “The City is working across agencies and communities to ensure battery energy storage projects are deployed safely and can provide reliable power when New Yorkers need it most.”
As for residential solar and storage, it will likely take years for those distributed resources to become a regular part of New York City’s energy landscape. There’s only one fully permitted and approved residential storage system allowed in New York City, which was installed earlier this year by Brooklyn Solar Works. Negotiating approvals with city agencies including the Department of Buildings and the New York City Fire Department took around six years, the company’s vice president of sales, Steve Nelson, told me.
“It’s New York City. We’re expecting there to be some level of bureaucracy and some lift to get that stuff approved,” Nelson said. “But what we also lack is a ready, readily accessible residential battery that meets the criteria that these departments have set.”
All that adds up to both a practical and a political gap for decarbonization, Zarelli told me.
“Batteries are a great way to connect the climate agenda and the affordability agenda, and it’s in the mayor’s control — it’s the regulatory apparatus at FDNY,” he said. “That’s a big near-term play that I think would make a big difference.”
Earlier this year, New York City Councilmember James Gennaro introduced a bill to amend the fire code to relax some battery storage permitting and safety requirements. But that still leaves the city’s decarbonization advocates with many big fish to fry.
“It’s a challenging future that’s still out in front of us, and how to navigate that is really difficult. But it’d be good if we were actually aligned on what our goals were as a society,” Zarelli said.
Rates were up 17% year over year in June, according to the latest Electricity Price Hub update, with another increase on the way.
With higher temperatures come higher electricity bills. Whether through higher seasonal charges or greater usage, Americans across the country were paying more for electricity in June.
In Virginia, the epicenter of the data center boom, the typical household electricity bill was $192 in June, up from $172 in June of last year, according to the latest data from the Heatmap and MIT’s Electricity Price Hub. Rates, meanwhile, were about 18 cents per kilowatt-hour, compared to just over 15 cents in June of last year, a 12% hike. Rates were also up from the end of last year, when they were about 15.5 cents.
The rate increase is largely due to prices set by Virginia’s largest utility, Dominion. Its rates are up 8% so far this year, according to MIT researchers, and 17% over the past 12 months, the result of a base rate increase that took effect at the beginning of the year. The average base rate alone is up 7.5% year over year for the average Dominion customer.
But that’s not all: The fuel portion of the bill is rising $8 a month for the typical customer, Dominion said according to local media reports, as a result of rising costs. The fuel charge went into effect at the beginning of July. Already, Dominion customers are paying about $78 per month for the generation portion of their electricity bill, according to Heatmap-MIT data.
The price hike will likely increase pressure on Dominion as it seeks to sell itself to Florida utility and energy developer NextEra in a $67 billion deal announced in May.
Earlier this week, Virginia's lieutenant governor Ghazala Hashmi sent a detailed letter to the State Corporation Commission, Virginia’s utility regulator, with 64 questions about the proposed merger. She said the deal “carries unprecedented implications for Virginia’s consumers and regulatory landscape.”
Hashmi asked regulators to extend their review of the deal beyond the six-month period mandated by its utility regulations, writing that “forcing this process into the six-month timeline will render an already inadequate period completely unworkable.”
In May, when the deal was announced, NextEra said it would provide over $2 billion of bill credits over two years to Dominion customers in Virginia, North Carolina, and South Carolina, which Dominion executives estimated would add up to $10 per month over the two years.