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:
“Do you ever think about electric cars?”

Between solar roofs, home batteries, and electric vehicles, Tesla could potentially “do more to fight climate change than any other company — perhaps any other entity — in the world,” Walter Isaacson muses in his much-anticipated biography of Elon Musk, out Tuesday.
But while the central character is at times painted as a heroic visionary (Isaacson’s previous subjects have included Steve Jobs, Einstein, and Leonardo da Vinci), the biography also makes it clear that Tesla’s mercurial CEO isn’t always the easiest to work with — or, in the blunter words of Bill Gates, he can be “super mean.” Here are some of the most surprising moments about climate and energy shared in Isaacson’s Elon Musk:
On Musk’s EV passion:
When Elon went with [Peter] Nicholson’s daughter, Christie, to a party one evening, his first question was “Do you ever think about electric cars?” As he later admitted, it was not the world’s best come-on line.
On education:
Musk also focused on electric cars. He and [his friend Robin] Ren would grab lunch from one of the food trucks and sit on the campus lawn, where Musk would read academic papers on batteries. California had just passed a requirement mandating that 10 percent of vehicles by 2003 had to be electric. “I want to go make that happen,” Musk said.
Musk also became convinced that solar power, which in 1994 was just taking off, was the best path toward sustainable energy. His senior paper was titled “The Importance of Being Solar.” He was motivated not just by the dangers of climate change but also by the fact that fossil fuel reserves would start to dwindle. “Society will soon have no option but to focus on renewable power sources,” he wrote. His final page showed a “power station of the future,” involving a satellite with mirrors that would concentrate sunlight onto solar panels and send the resulting electricity back to Earth via a microwave beam. The professor gave him a grade of 98, saying it was a “very interesting and well written paper, except the last figure that comes out of the blue.”
On investing in batteries:
Eager to keep the conversation going, [Tesla co-founder JB] Straubel changed the topic to his idea for building an electric vehicle using lithium-ion batteries. “I was looking for funding and being rather shameless,” he says. Musk expressed surprise when Straubel explained how good the batteries had become. “I was going to work on high-density energy storage at Stanford,” Musk told him. “I was trying to think of what would have the most effect on the world, and energy storage along with electric vehicles were high on my list.” His eyes lit up as he processed Straubel’s calculations. “Count me in,” he said, committing to provide $10,000 in funding.
On building the Gigafactory:
The idea that Musk proposed in 2013 was audacious: build a gigantic battery factory in the U.S. […] There was one problem, Straubel recalls. “We had no clue how to build a battery factory.”
So Musk and Straubel decided to pursue a partnership with their battery supplier, Panasonic […] Musk and Straubel were invited to Japan by Panasonic’s new young president Kazuhiro Tsuga. “It was a come-to-Jesus session where we had to make him truly commit that we were going to build the insane Gigafactory together,” Straubel says.
The dinner was a formal, multicourse affair at a traditional low-table Japanese restaurant. Straubel was fearful about how Musk would behave. “Elon can be so much hell and brimstone in meetings and just unpredictable as all get out,” he says. “But I’ve also seen him flip a switch and suddenly be this incredibly effective, charismatic, high-emotional-intelligence business person, when he has to do it.” At the Panasonic dinner, the charming Musk appeared. He sketched out his vision for moving the world to electric vehicles and why the two companies should do it together. “I was mildly shocked and impressed, because, whoa, this is not like how Elon usually was on other days,” says Straubel. “He’s a person who’s all over the map, and you don’t know what he’s going to say or do. And then, all of a sudden, he pulls it all together.”
On the origins of SolarCity:
“I want to start a new business,” Musk’s cousin Lyndon Rive said as they were driving in an RV to Burning Man, the annual art-and-tech rave in the Nevada desert, at the end of the summer of 2004. “One that can help humanity and address climate change.” “Get into the solar industry,” Musk replied. Lyndon recalls that the answer felt like “my marching orders.” With his brother Peter, he started work on creating a company that would become SolarCity. “Elon provided most of the initial funding,” Peter recalls. “He gave us one clear piece of guidance: get to a scale that would have an impact as fast as possible.”
On buying SolarCity:
When Musk announced the deal in June 2016, he called it a “no-brainer” that was “legally and morally correct.” The acquisition fit with his original “master plan” for Tesla, which he had written in 2006: “The overarching purpose of Tesla Motors is to help expedite the move from a mine-and-burn hydrocarbon economy towards a solar electric economy.”
On hating SolarCity:
The solar roof project caused enormous friction between Musk and his cousins. In August 2016, around the time he was teasing the new product, Peter Rive invited Musk to inspect a version that the company had installed on a customer’s roof. It was a standing-seam metal roof, meaning the solar cells were embedded in sheets of metal rather than tiles. When Musk drove up, Peter and fifteen people were standing in front of the house. “But as often happened,” Peter recalled, “Elon showed up late and then sat in the car looking at his phone while we all just waited very nervously for him to get out.” When he did, it was clear that he was furious. “This is shit,” Musk explained. “Total fucking shit. Horrible. What were you thinking?”
On really, really hating SolarCity:
There were four versions [of solar roofs], including those that looked like French slate and Tuscan barrel tiles, along with a house that featured the metal roof that Musk hated. When Musk visited two days before the scheduled event and saw the metal version, he erupted. “What part of ‘I fucking hate this product’ don’t you understand?” One of the engineers pushed back, saying it looked okay to him and that it was the easiest to install. Musk pulled Peter aside and told him, “I don’t think this guy should be on the team.” Peter fired the engineer and had the metal roof removed before the public event.
On cutting solar roof installation time:
[…] Musk clambered up a ladder to the peak of the roof, where he stood precariously. He was not happy. There were too many fasteners, he said. Each had to be nailed down, adding time to the installation process. “Instead of two nails for each foot, try it with only one,” he ordered. “If the house has a hurricane, the whole neighborhood is fucked up, so who cares? One nail is going to be fine.” Someone protested that could lead to leaks. “Don’t worry about making it as waterproof as a submarine,” he said. “My house in California used to leak. Somewhere between sieve and submarine should be okay.” For a moment he laughed before returning to his dark intensity.
On talking climate with Bill Gates:
“Hey, I’d love to come see you and talk about philanthropy and climate,” Bill Gates said to Musk when they happened to be at the same meeting in early 2022. Musk’s stock sales had led him, for tax reasons, to put $5.7 billion into a charitable fund he had established. Gates, who was then spending most of his time on philanthropy, had many suggestions he wanted to make. They’d had friendly interactions a few times in the past, including when Gates brought his son Rory to SpaceX. [...] Gates argued that batteries would never be able to power large semitrucks and that solar energy would not be a major part of solving the climate problem. “I showed him the numbers,” Gates says. “It’s an area where I clearly knew something that he didn’t.” He also gave Musk a hard time on Mars. “I’m not a Mars person,” Gates later told me. “He’s overboard on Mars. I let him explain his Mars thinking to me, which is kind of bizarre thinking. It’s this crazy thing where maybe there’s a nuclear war on Earth and so the people on Mars are there and they’ll come back down and, you know, be alive after we all kill each other.”
On dismissing climate philanthropy:
At the end of the tour, [Gates and Musk’s] conversation turned to philanthropy. Musk expressed his view that most of it was “bullshit.” There was only a twenty-cent impact for every dollar put in, he estimated. He could do more good for climate change by investing in Tesla.
On Bill Gates’ betrayal:
There was one contentious issue that [Bill Gates and Elon Musk] had to address. Gates had shorted Tesla stock, placing a big bet that it would go down in value […] Short-sellers occupied [Musk’s] innermost circle of hell. Gates said he was sorry, but that did not placate Musk. “I apologized to him,” Gates says. “Once he heard I’d shorted the stock, he was super mean to me, but he’s super mean to so many people, so you can’t take it too personally.”
[...] When I asked Gates why he had shorted Tesla, he explained that he had calculated that the supply of electric cars would get ahead of demand, causing prices to fall. I nodded but still had the same question: Why had he shorted the stock? Gates looked at me as if I had not understood what he just explained and then replied as if the answer was obvious: he thought that by shorting Tesla he could make money. That way of thinking was alien to Musk. He believed in the mission of moving the world to electric vehicles, and he put all of his available money toward that goal, even when it did not seem like a safe investment. “How can someone say they are passionate about fighting climate change and then do something that reduced the overall investment in the company doing the most?” he asked me a few days after Gates’s visit. “It’s pure hypocrisy. Why make money on the failure of a sustainable energy car company?”
On rejection:
Gates followed up in mid-April, sending Musk the promised paper on philanthropy options that he had personally written [...] “Sorry,” Musk shot back instantly. “I cannot take your philanthropy on climate seriously when you have a massive short position against Tesla, the company doing the most to solve climate change.” When angry, Musk can get mean, especially on Twitter. He tweeted a picture of Gates in a golf shirt with a bulging belly that made him look almost pregnant. “In case u need to lose a boner fast,” Musk’s comment read.
Log in
To continue reading, log in to your account.
Create a Free Account
To unlock more free articles, please create a free account.
Co-founder Mateo Jaramillo described how the startup’s iron-air battery could help address the data center boom — and the energy transition
Well before the introduction of ChatGPT and Claude, Ireland underwent a data center construction boom similar to the one the U.S. is experiencing today.
That makes it a fitting location for Form Energy’s first project outside the U.S. Mateo Jaramillo, the CEO of the long-duration energy storage startup, described Ireland as “a postcard from the future” at Heatmap House, a day of conversations and roundtables with leading policymakers, executives, and investors at San Francisco Climate Week.
In a one-on-one interview with Robinson Meyer, Jaramillo went on to explain the potential of a 100-hour battery, calling it the duration at which you can “functionally replace thermal resources on the grid or compete with them.” Such storage capacity would not only bolster data centers’ power reliability but also speed up the transition from oil and gas to renewables.
Form Energy, which Jaramillo co-founded in 2017, is best known for its iron-air battery that can continuously discharge energy for 100 hours. In February, the startup announced a partnership with Google and the utility Xcel Energy to build the highest-capacity battery in the world, capable of storing 30 gigawatt-hours of energy, as Heatmap’s Katie Brigham reported.
Despite the troublesome state of renewables deployment in the U.S., energy storage firms like Form appear to be doing well, thanks to record load growth. “When we founded the company, we didn’t anticipate the boom of data center demand that we’re currently experiencing,” said Jaramillo. “But we did bet on the overall mega-trend being pretty firmly in place, which is electricity growth.”
In addition to load growth, battery manufacturers are still benefiting from the Inflation Reduction Act’s energy storage tax credits, which survived the deep cuts Republicans made to the signature climate law last summer. Jaramillo noted that customers can still claim a tax credit for purchasing energy systems, while a manufacturing protection credit also remains in place. “We absolutely qualify for both those things,” Jaramillo said. “In fact, 100 hours as a duration is written into the legislative text for the manufacturing [tax credit].”
Though batteries can help accelerate the retirement of natural gas plants by providing firm energy to supplement renewables’ generation, politicians’ fear of load growth seems to have forged a bipartisan consensus supporting batteries. For its part, Form Energy is focused on continuing to drive down the cost of its iron-air battery.
From “where we sit today,” Form Energy is “quite confident that we will hit that roughly $20 a kilowatt-hour cost within a very short period of time,” Jaramillo said.
At San Francisco Climate Week, John Reynolds discussed how the state is juggling wildfire prevention, climate goals, and more.
Blessed with ample sun and wind for renewables but bedeviled by high electricity prices and natural disasters, California encapsulates the promise and peril of the United States’ energy transition.
So it was fitting that Heatmap House, a day of conversations and roundtables with leading policymakers, executives, and investors at San Francisco Climate Week, kicked off with John Reynolds, president of the California Public Utilities Commission.
The CPUC oversees the most-populous state’s utilities and has the power to approve or veto electricity and natural gas rate increases. At Heatmap House, Reynolds — “one of California’'s most important climate policymakers,” as Heatmap’s Robinson Meyer called him — affirmed that affordability has been top of mind as power bills have risen to become a mainstream political issue across the country. California’s electricity prices are the second-highest in the nation, behind only Hawaii, according to the Electricity Price Hub.
“I’d really like to see us drive down the portion of household income that is consumed by energy prices,” Reynolds said in a one-on-one interview with Rob. “That’s a really important metric for making sure that we’re doing our job to deliver a system that’s efficient at meeting customer needs and is able to support the growth of our economy.”
The Golden State’s power premium has been exacerbated by the fallout from multiple wildfires that have devastated various parts of the state in recent years, which have necessitated costly grid upgrades such as undergrounding power lines. California-based utility PG&E has also invested in more futuristic fire solutions such as “vegetation management robots, power pole sensors, advanced fire detection cameras, and autonomous drones, with much of this enhanced by an artificial intelligence-powered analytics platforms,” as Heatmap’s Katie Brigham wrote shortly after last year’s fires in Los Angeles.
Affordability affects not just Californians’ financial wellbeing, but also the state’s ability to decarbonize quickly. “The affordability challenge that we’re seeing in electric and gas service is one that is going to make it more difficult to meet our climate goals as a state,” Reynolds said.
One contentious — and somewhat byzantine — aspect of California’s energy transition is how much of a financial incentive the CPUC should offer for residents to install rooftop solar. Net metering is a billing system that rewards households with solar panels for sending excess generation back to the grid. Three years ago, the CPUC adopted a new standard that substantially lowered the rate at which solar panel users were compensated.
“We had to slow the bleeding,” Reynolds said, referring to the greater financial burden paid by utility customers without solar panels. “The net billing tariff did slow the bleeding, but it didn’t stop it.”
Asked whether he is focused more on electricity rates (the amount a customer pays per kilowatt-hour) or bills (the amount a utility charges a ratepayer), Reynolds said both are important.
“If we can drive down electric rates, we’re going to enable more electrification of transportation and of buildings,” Reynolds said. “It’s really important to look at bills, because that is fundamentally what hits households. People’s wallets are limited by their bills, not by their rates.”
The state has terminated an agreement to develop substations and other necessary grid infrastructure to serve the now-canceled developments.
Crucial transmission for future offshore wind energy in New Jersey is scrapped for now.
The New Jersey Board of Public Utilities on Wednesday canceled the agreement it reached with PJM Interconnection in 2021 to develop wires and substations necessary to send electricity generated by offshore wind across the state. The board terminated this agreement because much of New Jersey’s expected offshore wind capacity has either been canceled by developers or indefinitely stalled by President Donald Trump, including the now-scrapped TotalEnergies projects scrubbed in a settlement with his administration.
“New Jersey is now facing a situation in which there will be no identified, large-scale in-state generation projects under active development that can make use of [the agreement] on the timeline the state and PJM initially envisioned,” the board wrote in a letter to PJM requesting termination of the agreement.
Wind energy backers are not taking this lying down. “We cannot fault the Sherrill Administration for making this decision today, but this must only be a temporary setback,” Robert Freudenberg of the New Jersey and New York-focused environmental advocacy group Regional Plan Association, said in a statement released after the agreement was canceled.
I chronicled the fight over this specific transmission infrastructure before Trump 2.0 entered office and the White House went nuclear on offshore wind. Known as the Larrabee Pre-Built Infrastructure, the proposed BPU-backed network of lines and electrical equipment resulted from years of environmental and sociological study. It was intended to connect wind projects in the Atlantic Ocean to key points on the overall grid onshore.
Activists opposed to putting turbines in the ocean saw stopping the wires as a strategy for delaying the overall construction timelines for offshore wind, intensifying both the costs and permitting headaches for all state and development stakeholders involved. Some of those fighting the wires did so based on fears that electromagnetic radiation from the transmission lines would make them sick.
The only question mark remaining is whether this means the state will try to still proceed with building any of the transmission given rising electricity demand and if these plans may be revisited at a later date. The board’s letter to PJM nods to the future, asserting that new “alternative pathways to coordinated transmission” exist because of new guidance from the Federal Energy Regulatory Commission. These pathways “may serve” future offshore wind projects should they be pursued, stated the letter.
Of course, anything related to offshore wind will still be conditional on the White House.