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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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Whether any of them will hold up in court is now the big question.
Environmental lawyers are in for years of déjà vu as the Trump administration relitigates questions that many believed were settled by the Supreme Court nearly 20 years ago.
On Thursday, Trump rescinded the “endangerment finding,” the Environmental Protection Agency’s 2009 determination that greenhouse gas emissions from vehicles threaten Americans’ public health and welfare and should be regulated. In the short term, the move repeals existing vehicle emissions standards and prevents future administrations from replacing them. In the longer term, what matters is whether any of the administration’s justifications hold up in court.
In its final rule, the EPA abandoned its attempt to back the move using a bespoke climate science report published by the Department of Energy last year. The report was created by a working group assembled in secret by the department and made up of five scientists who have a track record of pushing back on mainstream climate science. Not only was the report widely refuted by scientists, but the assembly of the working group itself broke federal law, a judge ruled in late January.
“The science is clear that climate change is creating a risk for the public and public health, and so I think it’s significant that they realized that it creates a legal risk if they were to try to assert otherwise,” Carrie Jenks, the executive director of Harvard’s Environmental and Energy Law Program, told me.
Instead, the EPA came up with three arguments to justify its decision, each of which will no doubt have to be defended in court. The agency claims that each of them can stand alone, but that they also reinforce each other. Whether that proves to be true, of course, has yet to be determined.
Here’s what they are:
Congress never specifically told the EPA to regulate greenhouse gas emissions. If it did, maybe we would have accomplished more on climate change by now.
What happened instead was that in 1999, a coalition of environmental and solar energy groups asked the EPA to regulate emissions from cars, arguing that greenhouse gases should be considered pollutants under the federal Clean Air Act. In 2007, in a case called Massachusetts v. EPA, the Supreme Court agreed with the second part. That led the EPA to consider whether these gases posed enough of a danger to public health to warrant regulation. In 2009, it concluded they did — that’s what’s known as the endangerment finding. After reaching that finding, the EPA went ahead and developed standards to limit emissions from vehicles. It later followed that up with rules for power plants and oil and gas operations.
Now Trump’s EPA is arguing that this three-step progression — categorizing greenhouse gases as pollutants under the Clean Air Act, making a scientific finding that they endanger public health, and setting regulations — was all wrong. Instead, the agency now believes, it’s necessary to consider all three at once.
Using the EPA’s logic, the argument comes out something like this: If we consider that U.S. cars are a small sliver of global emissions, and that limiting those emissions will not materially change the trajectory of global warming or the impacts of climate change on Americans, then we must conclude that Congress did not intend for greenhouse gases to be regulated when it enacted the Clean Air Act.
“They are trying to merge it all together and say, because we can’t do that last thing in a way that we think is reasonable, we can’t do the first thing,” Jenks said.
The agency is not explicitly asking for Massachusetts v. EPA to be overturned, Jenks said. But if its current argument wins in court, that would be the effective outcome, preventing future administrations from issuing greenhouse gas standards unless Congress passed a law explicitly telling it to do so. While it's rare for the Supreme Court to reverse course, none of the five justices who were in the majority on that case remain, and the makeup of the court is now far more conservative than in 2007.
The EPA also asserted that the “major questions doctrine,” a legal principle that says federal agencies cannot set policies of major economic and political significance without explicit direction from Congress, means the EPA cannot “decide the Nation’s policy response to global climate change concerns.”
The Supreme Court has used the major questions doctrine to overturn EPA’s regulations in the past, most notably in West Virginia v. EPA, which ruled that President Obama’s Clean Power Plan failed this constitutional test. But that case was not about EPA’s authority to regulate greenhouse gases, the court solely struck down the particular approach the EPA took to those regulations. Nevertheless, the EPA now argues that any climate regulation at all would be a violation.
The EPA’s final argument is about the “futility” of vehicle emissions standards. It echoes a portion of the first justification, arguing that the point alone is enough of a reason to revoke the endangerment finding absent any other reason.
The endangerment finding had “severed the consideration of endangerment from the consideration of contribution” of emissions, the agency wrote. The Clean Air Act “instructs the EPA to regulate in furtherance of public health and welfare, not to reduce emissions regardless [of] whether such reductions have any material health and welfare impact.”
Funnily enough, to reach this conclusion, the agency had to use climate models developed by past administrations, including the EPA’s Optimization Model for reducing Emissions of GHGs from Automobiles, as well as some developed by outside scientists, such as the Finite amplitude Impulse Response climate emulator model — though it did so begrudgingly.
The agency “recognizes that there is still significant dispute regarding climate science and modeling,” it wrote. “However, the EPA is utilizing the climate modeling provided within this section to help illustrate” that zero-ing out emissions from vehicles “would not materially address the health and welfare dangers attributed to global climate change concerns in the Endangerment Finding.”
I have yet to hear back from outside experts about the EPA’s modeling here, so I can’t say what assumptions the agency made to reach this conclusion or estimate how well it will hold up to scrutiny. We’ll be talking to more legal scholars and scientists in the coming days as they digest the rule and dig into which of these arguments — if any — has a chance to prevail.
The state is poised to join a chorus of states with BYO energy policies.
With the backlash to data center development growing around the country, some states are launching a preemptive strike to shield residents from higher energy costs and environmental impacts.
A bill wending through the Washington State legislature would require data centers to pick up the tab for all of the costs associated with connecting them to the grid. It echoes laws passed in Oregon and Minnesota last year, and others currently under consideration in Florida, Georgia, Illinois, and Delaware.
Several of these bills, including Washington’s, also seek to protect state climate goals by ensuring that new or expanded data centers are powered by newly built, zero-emissions power plants. It’s a strategy that energy wonks have started referring to as BYONCE — bring your own new clean energy. Almost all of the bills also demand more transparency from data center companies about their energy and water use.
This list of state bills is by no means exhaustive. Governors in New York and Pennsylvania have declared their intent to enact similar policies this year. At least six states, including New York and Georgia, are also considering total moratoria on new data centers while regulators study the potential impacts of a computing boom.
“Potential” is a key word here. One of the main risks lawmakers are trying to circumvent is that utilities might pour money into new infrastructure to power data centers that are never built, built somewhere else, or don’t need as much energy as they initially thought.
“There’s a risk that there’s a lot of speculation driving the AI data center boom,” Emily Moore, the senior director of the climate and energy program at the nonprofit Sightline Institute, told me. “If the load growth projections — which really are projections at this point — don’t materialize, ratepayers could be stuck holding the bag for grid investments that utilities have made to serve data centers.”
Washington State, despite being in the top 10 states for data center concentration, has not exactly been a hotbed of opposition to the industry. According to Heatmap Pro data, there are no moratoria or restrictive ordinances on data centers in the state. Rural communities in Eastern Washington have also benefited enormously from hosting data centers from the earlier tech boom, using the tax revenue to fund schools, hospitals, municipal buildings, and recreation centers.
Still, concern has started to bubble up. A ProPublica report in 2024 suggested that data centers were slowing the state’s clean energy progress. It also described a contentious 2023 utility commission meeting in Grant County, which has the highest concentration of data centers in the state, where farmers and tech workers fought over rising energy costs.
But as with elsewhere in the country, it’s the eye-popping growth forecasts that are scaring people the most. Last year, the Northwest Power and Conservation Council, a group that oversees electricity planning in the region, estimated that data centers and chip fabricators could add somewhere between 1,400 megawatts and 4,500 megawatts of demand by 2030. That’s similar to saying that between one and four cities the size of Seattle will hook up to the region’s grid in the next four years.
In the face of such intimidating demand growth, Washington Governor Bob Ferguson convened a Data Center Working Group last year — made up of state officials as well as advisors from electric utilities, environmental groups, labor, and industry — to help the state formulate a game plan. After meeting for six months, the group published a report in December finding that among other things, the data center boom will challenge the state’s efforts to decarbonize its energy systems.
A supplemental opinion provided by the Washington Department of Ecology also noted that multiple data center developers had submitted proposals to use fossil fuels as their main source of power. While the state’s clean energy law requires all electricity to be carbon neutral by 2030, “very few data center developers are proposing to use clean energy to meet their energy needs over the next five years,” the department said.
The report’s top three recommendations — to maintain the integrity of Washington’s climate laws, strengthen ratepayer protections, and incentivize load flexibility and best practices for energy efficiency — are all incorporated into the bill now under discussion in the legislature. The full list was not approved by unanimous vote, however, and many of the dissenting voices are now opposing the data center bill in the legislature or asking for significant revisions.
Dan Diorio, the vice president of state policy for the Data Center Coalition, an industry trade group, warned lawmakers during a hearing on the bill that it would “significantly impact the competitiveness and viability of the Washington market,” putting jobs and tax revenue at risk. He argued that the bill inappropriately singles out data centers, when arguably any new facility with significant energy demand poses the same risks and infrastructure challenges. The onshoring of manufacturing facilities, hydrogen production, and the electrification of vehicles, buildings, and industry will have similar impacts. “It does not create a long-term durable policy to protect ratepayers from current and future sources of load growth,” he said.
Another point of contention is whether a top-down mandate from the state is necessary when utility regulators already have the authority to address the risks of growing energy demand through the ratemaking process.
Indeed, regulators all over the country are already working on it. The Smart Electric Power Alliance, a clean energy research and education nonprofit, has been tracking the special rate structures and rules that U.S. utilities have established for data centers, cryptocurrency mining facilities, and other customers with high-density energy needs, many of which are designed to protect other ratepayers from cost shifts. Its database, which was last updated in November, says that 36 such agreements have been approved by state utility regulators, mostly in the past three years, and that another 29 are proposed or pending.
Diario of the Data Center Coalition cited this trend as evidence that the Washington bill was unnecessary. “The data center industry has been an active party in many of those proceedings,” he told me in an email, and “remains committed to paying its full cost of service for the energy it uses.” (The Data Center Coalition opposed a recent utility decision in Ohio that will require data centers to pay for a minimum of 85% of their monthly energy forecast, even if they end up using less.)
One of the data center industry’s favorite counterarguments against the fear of rising electricity is that new large loads actually exert downward pressure on rates by spreading out fixed costs. Jeff Dennis, who is the executive director of the Electricity Customer Alliance and has worked for both the Department of Energy and the Federal Energy Regulatory Commission, told me this is something he worries about — that these potential benefits could be forfeited if data centers are isolated into their own ratemaking class. But, he said, we’re only in “version 1.5 or 2.0” when it comes to special rate structures for big energy users, known as large load tariffs.
“I think they’re going to continue to evolve as everybody learns more about how to integrate large loads, and as the large load customers themselves evolve in their operations,” he said.
The Washington bill passed the Appropriations Committee on Monday and now heads to the Rules Committee for review. A companion bill is moving through the state senate.
Plus more of the week’s top fights in renewable energy.
1. Kent County, Michigan — Yet another Michigan municipality has banned data centers — for the second time in just a few months.
2. Pima County, Arizona — Opposition groups submitted twice the required number of signatures in a petition to put a rezoning proposal for a $3.6 billion data center project on the ballot in November.
3. Columbus, Ohio — A bill proposed in the Ohio Senate could severely restrict renewables throughout the state.
4. Converse and Niobrara Counties, Wyoming — The Wyoming State Board of Land Commissioners last week rescinded the leases for two wind projects in Wyoming after a district court judge ruled against their approval in December.