You’re out of free articles.
This Halloween, get 20% off using code ADVANCED
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:
Seventy-eight percent of Americans say they would pay more to buy a U.S.-made EV over a similar Chinese model. Here's why that's significant for Biden's climate law.
Consider for a moment that you are deciding between two electric cars for purchase.
The first is a name-brand American-made EV.
The second is almost identical — same range, same features, same reviews — but it is $5,000 cheaper than the first vehicle, and it is made in China.
Which would you choose?
When asked a nearly identical version of this question last month, nearly four out of every five Americans — some 78% of adults — said that they would buy the more expensive, U.S.-made car, new results from the Heatmap Climate Poll have found. Only 22% of adults said that they would choose the less expensive Chinese vehicle.
The results, which arrive as the Biden administration is finalizing rules that will govern new electric-car subsidies, suggest that many Americans are willing to support costly measures to boost a home-grown EV industry. And it offers some of the first evidence that Americans — who have long told pollsters that they want to buy U.S.-made products, but that they won’t pay extra for them — may be changing their views and buying habits in light of geopolitics.
The result “highlights the opportunity under the [Inflation Reduction Act] that not only Biden has, but the broader U.S. automotive sector has,” Corey Cantor, a senior associate for electric vehicles at BloombergNEF, a clean-energy analysis group, told me. The Inflation Reduction Act, which Congress passed last year, contains what analysts have estimated at hundreds of billions of dollars in tax breaks for companies that manufacture EVs or their batteries in the United States.
The poll adds ballast to one of the law’s central ideas: that Americans would support policy to boost U.S. domestic industry as much — or more — than they would back a more straightforward decarbonization measure. “It sounds like the IRA’s theory — or Joe Manchin’s theory, or Biden’s theory — is really well supported by the American public,” Cantor said, referencing the two Democrats most often credited with the bill’s design.
The EV question united Americans across party, gender, race, age, and ideological lines. Among people who voted for Trump in 2020, 83% said that they would choose the American car; 76% of Biden voters agreed. More than 80% of white, Black, and Asian Americans each picked the domestic model. So did similar majorities of older and younger Americans, men and women, Democrats and Republicans, and college graduates and those without a college degree.
Even among prospective EV buyers — presumably the most cost-sensitive cohort — 75% said that they would choose the pricier, U.S.-made car. The Heatmap Climate Poll, a scientific survey of 1,000 American adults in all 50 states and the District of Columbia, was conducted by the Benenson Strategy Group and Heatmap News during a five-day period last month.
An opinion poll is not a guarantee of consumer behavior. But in the past, Americans have generally said they would choose U.S.-made products only if they cost about as much as foreign-made goods. In 2016, an Associated Press-GFK poll found that while about 75% of Americans wanted to buy U.S.-made products, only about 30% were willing to pay more for them. According to a Boston Consulting Group analysis, Americans tend to be willing to pay about 5% more for a domestic-made product, The Washington Post has reported. With the average price of a new car approaching $50,000, Americans now seem to say that they will pay more than double that to avoid a Chinese-made electric vehicle.
For now, that preference probably has bigger political implications than consumer ones. Although China makes more EVs than any other country and dominates global market share, relatively few Chinese-made vehicles make their way to the United States. The American government has imposed high tariffs on Chinese-made EVs and EV parts — including key minerals used in electronics such as lithium, cobalt, and cadmium — since 2018.
Probably the highest-profile Chinese-made EV now sold in the United States is the Polestar 2, a well-reviewed, roughly $50,000 sedan that gets 300 miles of range. Although Polestar is headquartered in Sweden and associated with Volvo, it is controlled by Li Shufu, a Chinese billionaire and the founder of the Zhejiang Geely Holding Group, China’s seventh-largest carmaker. Geely also owns Volvo, so some of Volvo’s electric cars — such as the XC40 Recharge, a small SUV — use the same underlying “platform,” or shared set of design and engineering components, as Geely’s cars.
But aspects of this arrangement are changing. Polestar has said that its next car, the Polestar 3 — an $83,000 SUV due to go on sale later this year — will be made in Ridgeville, South Carolina.
Chinese-made EVs have been welcomed more warmly elsewhere in the world. The five most popular EVs in Australia are all made in China. BYD, a Chinese firm that is by some measures already the world’s largest EV maker, sells cars there and across northern Europe; it plans to expand to the U.K., Japan, and Mexico this year. So do Geely and Nio, another Chinese automaker. And some American firms are deepening their China ties: Tesla’s Shanghai plant is the company’s largest factory worldwide.
“European consumers have been fairly favorable” to Chinese EVs, Cantor said. “The response has been more like, This is a cool car, they’re a cool company. There’s a more complicated geopolitical relationship for any Chinese company to come into the American market.”
Dan Wang, a technology analyst at Gavekal Dragonomics, an economic-research firm based in Beijing, said that Americans may not be ready for how different these Made-in-China EVs will initially feel. “It’s not clear that the mindset [that Chinese automakers] bring from the Chinese market — featuring greater phone connectivity and a richer infotainment experience for the rider — meets the taste of Americans,” he told me.
That said, the poll question may be unrealistic about China’s ability to make cost-efficient EVs in the American market. In addition to the high tariffs, the federal government will soon provide subsidies of up to $7,500 to EVs that meet strict U.S.-made standards; it is due to announce that program’s details later this week.
Even beyond EVs, a large majority of Americans seemed to back the IRA’s broad, industry-forward approach when it was described to them in neutral terms, the poll found. Asked to choose from a list of pro-climate policies, just under half of Americans said that they would support a carbon tax. But 69% said that they wanted the government to invest “in technologies that greatly reduce greenhouse-gas emissions,” such as renewables or carbon removal. Essentially the same share said they supported requiring businesses to buy a certain share of their energy from renewable or zero-carbon sources.
Perhaps above all, the poll hints at Americans’ deepening skepticism of what was once one of the central bargains in its global trade agreements: that the U.S. should accept less domestic manufacturing in exchange for cheaper consumer prices. Americans — at least when asked hypothetically and about their own pocketbooks — don’t seem as willing to make that exchange anymore. Will they make the same decision at the dealership? The answer will matter to more than just the auto industry.
The Heatmap Climate Poll of 1,000 American adults was conducted via online panels by Benenson Strategy Group from Feb. 15 to 20, 2023. The survey included interviews with Americans in all 50 states and Washington, D.C. The margin of sampling error is plus or minus 3.02 percentage points. You can read more about the topline results here.
This Halloween, get 20% off using code ADVANCED
Log in
To continue reading, log in to your account.
Create a Free Account
To unlock more free articles, please create a free account.
Most Americans still say they would oppose a data center being built near where they live, but the facilities’ standing has improved among Republicans, a new Heatmap Pro poll finds.
The American public’s backlash against data centers may finally be starting to slow down, although the facilities remain staggeringly unpopular, a new poll finds.
Seventy-one percent of Americans said they would oppose a data center being built near where they live, according to a new Heatmap Pro poll conducted by Embold Research earlier this month.
That is an abysmal finding for technology companies and would-be developers of the computing facilities. But it actually represents an improvement from previous polling, and it suggests one of the fastest shifts in public opinion in recent memory may be tapering off.
That shift has been swift. As recently as September of last year, about 43% of Americans said they would support a data center being built near where they live, and Americans broadly appeared to be evenly split on the infrastructure, according to Heatmap Pro polling. Eleven months later, 75% of Americans told the same poll that they would oppose a nearby data center — a 32 point shift. That monumental turnaround helped make data centers a defining issue in this election cycle.
That backlash has transformed the economics of the data center boom, the largest infrastructure buildout in recent U.S. history. The overwhelming majority of data center projects now face some degree of community opposition, Heatmap Pro reporting suggests. More than $260 billion in proposed data centers have been canceled this year after meeting local opposition. The artificial intelligence company Anthropic even flagged the infrastructure slowdown on Monday when it filed for its initial public offering, which is widely expected to be among the largest ever.
Now our new survey shows that Americans’ rejection of the enormous computing facilities may itself be slowing. The small observed drop, which only slightly exceeds the survey’s margin of error, was driven by a four-point decline in the share of Americans who said they would “strongly oppose” the technology.

While Americans of all parties improved their view of data centers, the change was most pronounced among Republicans. In August, 23% of GOP voters said that they would support a data center being built near where they live. In the new poll, conducted after weeks of favorable campaigning by President Trump, 34% of Republicans said they would support a data center slated for their area, while the share of Republicans who said they would oppose it fell from 66% to 58%. Data centers’ standing among independents improved by nine points during the same period.
Democrats remain largely unified against the infrastructure, and data centers’ improvement among that group was just outside the margin of error.
While Americans of every age, race, gender, and partisan ID remain more opposed to local data center development than in favor of it, their standing has also improved among men since the summer. In August, 21% of men said they would support a data center being built near where they live. Now, 28% of men would support one.
Will America be the land of opportunity for AtkinsRéalis’ tried-and-true CANDU?
Unruffled by President Trump’s taunts of turning Canada into the 51st state, Canadian Prime Minister Mark Carney has vowed to regain leverage over Washington by remaking his nation as an “energy superpower.” Instead of building pipelines from the oil fields of Alberta to American refineries, Ottawa will run them to its West Coast ports to sell crude directly to Asia. Rather than importing electricity from offshore wind farms in the American Northeast, Nova Scotia will build its own turbines and sell the power back to energy-starved New England as the Trump administration thwarts the region’s own buildout.
But Canada’s path to reviving its nuclear industry may run — counterintuitively — through the United States.
Last week, Montreal-based AtkinsRéalis inked a deal with utility Hoosier Energy and the Indiana government to explore building up to 6 gigawatts of reactors in the state. The agreement is only a memorandum of understanding to kick off a study examining potential sites across the state. But it marks the first real effort to export Canada’s unique pressurized heavy-water reactors, called CANDUs, to the U.S., and highlights how America’s domestic nuclear industry has atrophied to the point that foreign developers of large-scale units are racing to establish a beachhead in the world’s largest atomic power market.
“If the Americans had created the CANDU, everyone in the world would know about it,” Joe St. Julian, the American-born president of AtkinsRéalis, told me. “There’s just a cultural difference in the way that the Canadians go about things and the way the Americans do.”
Pronounced “CAN-do,” the upbeat acronym stands for Canada Deuterium Uranium and evokes the government’s post-war, can-do spirit, mustered to help protect its sovereignty during the bipolarity of the Cold War. Developed in the 1950s by Canadian government scientists and now used across the country’s entire nuclear fleet, CANDUs rely on deuterium, a version of hydrogen with an extra neutron, as their “heavy water” coolant to sustain their chains of split atoms. Uranium powers virtually all commercial nuclear reactors, but CANDUs are distinct in that they can run on the raw stuff, rather than enriched uranium. That’s their real advantage: By forgoing the costly and heavily scrutinized enrichment process, Canada can tap its vast resources of mined uranium without facing the bottleneck of the expensive enrichment facilities or attracting the intensive oversight of global regulators monitoring for the production of atomic weapons.
The 17 reactors that provide 15% of Canada’s electricity today are all CANDUs. India’s fleet largely borrowed the technology, and Argentina, China, Romania, and South Korea have all imported their own CANDUs. But the buildout largely stopped in the last century. Canada built its last CANDU in Romania in 2007. The last Canadian CANDU — Unit 4 of the Darlington nuclear plant in Ontario — came online in 1993.
Two years ago, Canada sought to restart its reactor buildout by commissioning its first American-designed unit. Construction began last year on the world’s first BWRX-300, a small modular reactor that uses enriched uranium as fuel. The U.S. plans to build the second version of the same reactor at the Tennessee Valley Authority’s Clinch River site. Whether it can deliver the cost savings SMRs promise remains an open question, given that nuclear developers have historically improved economics by making reactors bigger, not smaller.
But Chris Keefer, a Toronto physician-cum-nuclear advocate who hosts the in-depth energy podcast Decouple, told me he believes Canada’s real error is in benching the CANDU. While Ontario’s government-owned utility “got their backs slapped endlessly for having the courage to go first” in building the inaugural SMR on the continent, “they’re idiots to be investing $21 billion of Canadian ratepayers’ money to prop up an American company with American technology,” he said, colorfully characterizing the move as a massive error and “the result of dis-coordinated decision-making.” (Converted from loonies to U.S. dollars, that figure is about $14.9 billion.)
While Keefer added that he opposes the trade war between Washington and Ottawa, he also recognizes it as a potential opening. “Part of me loves it and this deglobalization moment we’re in, where strategic autonomy and national interest matter,” he said.
The Carney administration has yet to set clear rules on what kind of reactor technology it will support domestically, but it could, in theory, limit access to federal subsidies for provinces and utilities that opt for non-CANDU technologies. For now, however, there appears to be quiet agreement between the U.S. and Canada on bringing the technology south. St. Julian said the Canadian Ministry of Energy has been “very supportive” in talks about providing financing for CANDU exports to the U.S. AtkinsRéalis is also in talks with the U.S. Department of Energy, though a source familiar with that agency’s thinking cast doubt over the possibility that the Trump administration would ultimately fund a Canadian project in the U.S.
None of this was a part of AtkinsRéalis’ long game, St. Julian told me. “The U.S. had four or five of its own reactor technologies,” he said. “Why would it build a foreign technology?” But shortly after Trump returned to office, “We looked at it and realized the U.S. is down to a single large reactor technology: Westinghouse. The other three or four are no longer in business.”
That was the opening AtkinsRéalis needed. “The U.S. made clear it had the aspiration to build 300 new nuclear power stations,” St. Julian went on. “Between Westinghouse and new technologies coming online with SMRs, we said they couldn’t possibly reach their aspiration no matter how optimistic they are about the capacity and supply chain of first-of-a-kind technologies.”
So the company applied to the U.S. Nuclear Regulatory Commission for approval of the CANDU. In June, AtkinsRéalis sent the regulator a formal heads-up about its plans to file an application this past summer, and it expects to complete its second topical report for the NRC by the end of this month.
The CANDUs aren’t the only foreign reactors making a play in the U.S., though. Last month, South Korea unveiled a deal with the Trump administration to fund construction of up to six AP1000s and two APR1400s.
The CANDU does have some drawbacks that the APR1400 doesn’t. The same characteristics that let its reactors sustain fission using raw uranium also cause wear and tear that requires a significant refurbishment every 35 years. (Canada is already funding a campaign of repairs domestically.) And while a typical refueling outage for a light water reactor lasts up to two months and renovations ahead of a relicensing can take up to a year, the refurbishment process for a CANDU can take the unit offline for two years or more.
AtkinsRéalis declined to comment on its internal estimates of the cost of such a refurbishment, which is — among industry experts — widely criticized as costly. But St. Julian said the company guarantees at least two refurbishments in a CANDU’s lifetime, giving each unit a 105-year lifespan. Amortizing the costs over more than a century of electricity production, not to mention the company’s experience building units all over the world, means a CANDU is “a lot less expensive” than rival technologies, he said.
“The APR1400’s biggest advantage is the Korean industrial ecosystem,” Nana Menya Ayensu, a non-resident senior fellow at the Atlantic Council who worked on energy policy in the Biden White House, told me. “But the CANDU has lots of advantages that are specific to the technology in terms of not needing enriched fuel.”
Keefer highlighted another upside he’s acutely aware of due to his day job as an emergency-room doctor: CANDUs are particularly well-suited to batch-producing “enormous amounts” of medical isotopes, such as cobalt-60, used in cancer chemotherapy and the sterilization of surgical instruments, among other uses.
The technology is certainly attracting attention. Last month, Argentina and Romania agreed to work together on more CANDU projects. Weeks later, as I reported, Poland’s state-backed nuclear developer approved a tender for a second nuclear power station, for which it’s considering the CANDU. Last week, Turkey signed an agreement with Carney to cooperate on civilian nuclear energy, putting the CANDU in contention for the country’s second atomic power station.
And earlier this month, Atlas Atomics, a startup backed by Ohio’s Republican gubernatorial candidate Vivek Ramaswamy, raised $400 million in a Series A to commercialize its own pressurized heavy water reactor, in what Keefer dubbed in his newsletter the “AmeriCANDU.”
St. Julian said the new competition shows the unique value of the CANDU. “The difference is, we’ve been doing it for 70 years, and we spent tens of millions of dollars to perfect this technology; they’re just starting,” he said. Then he cracked a half smile. “They have the benefit of being a second movement,” he added. “But, man, we have a big head start.”
Plus, one big opportunity for climate change.
Anthropic is worried about its ability to power data centers.
While much of the company’s more-than-330-page filing for its planned initial public offering focuses on the mundane (executive compensation) and the extraordinary (“existential risks” are mentioned three times), considerable space is devoted to the problems of power.
The word “energy” appears 14 times in the section of the document laying out risks to Anthropic’s business, while “climate” or “climate change” is mentioned four times.
The overarching concern the company has is that it might not get enough power for data centers running its large language models. “Delays in securing energy, water, and other critical services for these facilities could further slow the pace at which newly commissioned compute becomes available for use,” is one representative sample from its risk factors section. The document later notes that “our business may face increased scrutiny related to these activities … including from the investment community and the local communities in which we operate,” in a later section on environmental, social, and governance standards.
Anthropic is also concerned with the pace of the energy infrastructure build-out more generally, noting “the construction of the generation and transmission infrastructure on which we depend is itself capital-intensive and exposed to labor shortages, supply chain disruptions, permitting delays, changes in interest rates, tariffs, other cost overruns, and financing constraints.” These concerns will be familiar to anyone following the debate in Washington, D.C., over permitting reform, which is also centered on making transmission easier and cheaper to build.
Later in the document, Anthropic writes that electricity policy is both highly varied across the country — “Grid-tied electrical supply, for instance, is subject to the jurisdiction of federal and state energy regulators, regional grid operators, and public utility commissions” — and also evolving, noting specifically that “environmental standards applicable to power generation continue to evolve, including as a result of changing governmental priorities and shifting public and political views regarding climate change and the appropriate treatment of various power generation sources.”
The risk of these policies is that they could result in “failure to secure access to adequate electrical power,” which could then “adversely affect our cost structure and limit our ability to scale our compute infrastructure, develop and deploy our models, and service our customers.”
Anthropic also acknowledges energy can be quite expensive, writing that costs are “largely outside of our control” and can “rise sharply during periods of peak demand or constrained supply, and such increases in energy costs could adversely affect our results of operations.”
Anthropic is the charter member of an industry group, along with Nvidia and Google, to promote and enable demand flexibility, which would reduce peak demand — and thus bring down electricity prices and alleviate the need for additional new infrastructure — by having data centers draw down their power usage when demand was at its highest. The company notes that it has also signed on to “voluntary commitments to offset the impact of our data center energy consumption on local communities and electricity ratepayers.” Already, the document says, “these commitments have increased, and we expect will continue to increase, our operating costs.”
And while the document has little to say about climate change per se and even less about sustainability and renewables, it does note that “the physical effects of climate change may increase our operating costs over time, as higher average temperatures can increase the power consumption and water usage required to cool equipment at the facilities on which we depend.”
Climate change also acts as an amplifier for potential disasters that could affect the company. “The impact of climate change may increase these risks,” the company says of “war, terrorist attacks, and other acts of political violence, or any significant natural disaster, such as an earthquake, fire, hurricane, tornado, flood, or significant power outage.”
Specifically, Anthropic calls out climate-related risk specific to the Bay Area, where it is headquartered. Or, as it bloodlessly describes it, “a region known for seismic activity and increasingly for the threat of fires.”
Otherwise, climate change and sustainability policy is largely seen as a regulatory and cost burden. For example, “regulations relating to [environmental, social, and governance] matters, including environmental sustainability and climate change, are under consideration, being adopted, or being rolled back or revised, which may impact our necessary disclosures and increase compliance costs,” and “sustainability initiatives, goals, or commitments could be difficult to achieve or costly to implement.”
It notes a variety of California, European Union, and United Kingdom climate disclosure laws “will require the dedication of significant time and resources” while also observing that “across the United States ... enacted or proposed ‘anti-ESG’ policies or legislation or have issued related legal opinions,” which could “expose any sustainability, employment, governance, or other corporate practices we adopt to the risk of litigation, antitrust investigations or challenges by federal or state authorities, and result in injunctions, penalties, and reputational harm.”
The document is far less detailed about what Anthropic and its products could do to alleviate or prevent climate change and its effects. This is not surprising for a regulatory filing concerned with disclosing corporate information and outlining risks to investors — but the filing is also supposed to explain the business opportunities it sees as well. In that regard, climate is relegated to a laundry list of potential scientific projects Anthropic’s products could be helpful with. “Claude is also being applied to pressing global problems in scientific research, drug discovery, education, and climate analysis,” it writes.
If its S-1 is any indication, there will be a lot of work to do.