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Thea Riofrancos, a professor of political science at Providence College, discusses her new book, Extraction, and the global consequences of our growing need for lithium.

We cannot hope to halt or even slow dangerous climate change without remaking our energy systems, and we cannot remake our energy systems without environmentally damaging projects like lithium mines.
This is the perplexing paradox at the heart of Extraction: The Frontiers of Green Capitalism, a new book by political scientist and climate activist Thea Riofrancos, coming out September 23, from Norton.
Riofrancos, a professor at Providence College, has spent much of her academic career studying mining and oil production in Latin America. In Extraction, she traces the lithium boom of the past five or so years, as the aims of the Global North and Global South began to resemble an inverted mirror. Countries in the latter group that have long been sites of mineral extraction — with little economic benefit — are now seeking to manufacture the more lucrative high tech products further down the supply chain. Meanwhile, after decades of offshoring, Europe and the U.S. suddenly want to bring mining back home in pursuit of “green dominance,” she writes. All of this is happening against the backdrop of China’s geopolitical rise, the war in Ukraine, the COVID-19 pandemic, and worsening effects of climate change.
The book also spends time with the indigenous communities and environmental defenders fighting the lithium industry in Chile, Portugal, and the American West. Riofrancos doesn’t shy away from difficult questions, such as whether there is such a thing as a “right place” for a lithium mine. But she’s optimistic that there’s a better path than the one we’re on now. “The energy transition has presented a fork in the road for the entire economic and social order,” she writes. Down one road, we entrench existing power structures. Down the other, we capitalize on the energy transition to create a more just society.
Green capitalism, Riofrancos argues, is an oxymoron. While we can’t avoid extraction, we can reduce the need for it, for example through better public transit, smaller EV batteries, and minerals recycling, she concludes.
This interview has been edited and condensed for length and clarity.
Are there notable differences between lithium and the extraction of other natural resources?
Yes and no. Whether it’s copper or lithium or gold or cobalt — and even I would include hydrocarbons in this, to a degree — whether we look at the economics, the way that they have boom and bust cycles, the fact that governments, even neoliberal governments, tend to take a pretty concerted interest in extractive sectors within their jurisdiction, environmental concerns and direct forms of violence that are meted out at environmental defenders — no, it’s not different. Which should raise alarm bells because a lot of those dynamics are not positive.
What’s different, though, is that precisely because mining companies and host governments claim that the extraction of lithium is urgent and essential for the energy transition, what ends up happening is that these big claims are made — like, “We are now a sustainable mining company because we’re extracting lithium,” or, “This is part of our green industrial policy.” This toxic and dirty extractive sector is now greenified because of its role in the energy transition. On the one hand, that’s greenwashing. On the other, it’s an opening. When companies make those claims, it’s something to hold them accountable to.
I was somewhat surprised by the issues you describe with the way lithium mining is regulated in Chile — the companies do their own environmental monitoring, there’s a lack of transparent data, the brine they mine in the Atacama is not considered water under Chilean law, etc. It seems like the state could change a lot of this. Why hasn’t it?
States in the Global South, although not exclusively there, lack geological and hydrological data about their own territory. In ways that we can trace to colonialism and neocolonialism in terms of who controls the territory and who has knowledge about it, the actors that have the basic data about deposits, how they interact with water sources, all of that, are the companies. And so to even regulate these companies better, you first need to set up independent and objective sources of data collection — and that’s something that any state might struggle with, but especially in the Global South, given the kind of legacy under which these companies operated, with little oversight of the state.
The [U.S. Geological Survey] doesn’t exist everywhere in the world. Not every state has a surveying agency with that level of expertise. And even in the U.S., the USGS actually has quite partial knowledge of what’s here. And there are many examples of companies in the U.S. hiding proprietary knowledge from the government.
What about after Gabriel Boric became president in Chile, in 2022, and created this new public-private partnership between the mining giant SQM and the government. Wouldn’t that have given the Chilean government more visibility and more control?
I think in some ways he’s made strides. He has set aside many salt flats for conservation. A right wing government wouldn’t have done that. He also is inserting the state, via the state-owned copper company Codelco, entering into public-private partnerships with companies, including SQM. If all goes according to plan, that will help the state learn more about lithium extraction, or maybe even set up their own lithium company, which was the initial goal of this government.
I’ll just point out two things to show how this is difficult. According to indigenous communities and environmental activists that have been organizing around this, they were excluded from the initial moment where that memorandum of understanding between SQM and Codelco was signed, and so they felt like it was a reenactment of historic injuries by a government that they had cautiously supported or thought would be different. Now they’re back at the negotiating table and indigenous communities are being consulted again. But there was a critical moment where the MOU was signed and indigenous communities were not present, and actually learned about it from the media. These historic patterns are really hard to change because companies hold a lot of power.
Even a progressive government is balancing indigenous rights and ecological protection with a desire to not lose market share. Argentina is starting to catch up with Chile — is Chile still going to remain the number two producer globally? Does it need to change its regulations to attract more companies? This is the kind of double bind that Global South societies find themselves in.
You write about this tension between expanding extraction and minimizing environmental and community impacts. Do you believe there are actually ways to minimize these impacts?
Absolutely. You can do anything better. I believe in human ingenuity and science and figuring out how to improve processes. There are ways to extract using less water, using a smaller land footprint, using fewer polluting energy sources. One of the reasons emissions from mining are not insignificant is a lot of it happens off-grid, and for now, that means diesel generators or gasoline-powered mining vehicles, let alone the cargo ships that are shipping the stuff around the world. So we could think about localizing or regionalizing supply chains.
The question is, how do we get companies to change their practices? They might do it if a regulator tells them they have to, if civil society puts so much pressure on them that it just becomes reputational harm if they don’t do it, if perhaps activist shareholders ask or tell the company to change its practices.
But the company, if it’s a shareholder-owned company, has one main obligation, which is to maximize the value of their shares. Changing your technological setup and your physical plant arrangement is costly, and it may not immediately produce more profits. And so you have to think about, what are the crude economic dynamics that keep companies on a particular technological path in terms of how they do their physical operations? And then think, using the power of policy, of economics, of consumer pressure, whatever it is, how to get them to make a decision that may not be in their immediate shareholder interest.
One theme in the book is that countries in the West are making a case for domestic mining by arguing that it will be greener than mining in the Global South. Is there any evidence for that? What’s the logic?
This was honestly one of the most surprising things in my research as someone that primarily has worked in Latin America. I heard some rumblings — and this was in 2019, before the pandemic — of EU officials wanting to onshore. It confused me because mining is toxic, it’s low value-added. And what I learned is that it had come to a point where Western policymakers saw the whole supply chain as a domain of geostrategic power.
And then, probably some people really feel this way, and other people are using it as nice rhetoric, but Western policymakers also started to come to the idea that it would be more “responsible” to mine in the West. This is in no small part due to the fact that the mining industry has deservedly gotten a lot of negative coverage for, in some cases, outright killing people. In other cases, you have an avalanche that destroys a village. You have water contamination. There are issues around forced labor, how the Uyghurs are treated in China. So there was a lot of bad press on the industry. I think they thought, We can solve a few problems at once. We can increase our geopolitical power by having domestic supply chains for the most important 21st century technologies, and we can also make the claim to consumers, regulators, and the media that this is better if you care about responsible, ethical, green mining.
The reality is, of course, more complex than that. Our mining law in the U.S. that governs hard rock mining on public lands is from 1872, which tells you everything you need to know. It’s extremely out of date with the modern mining industry and the scale of harm that mining poses, and it also literally was implemented during the westward expansion and dispossession of indigenous peoples to serve that end.
In fact, countries in Latin America tend to have better — on paper — governance of mining than the U.S., though they may not have the state capacity to always implement it. In Europe, there’s even more dependence on imports. A lot of the European countries have almost no regulations on the books for basic things like, how do you deal with mining waste? And so in the Global North, what we have to fight for is a mining governance regime and a set of legal codes and regulations that is up to date.
This book is pretty critical of the way communities have been treated in the lithium boom so far. What are some of the ways community engagement can be done better?
We see better outcomes when communities are organized, when they actually identify as a community, have some meetings, maybe set up a group to coordinate themselves. Like, who’s going to go to the public hearing? Who’s going to contact a lawyer? Who’s going to contact the water expert? Because communities need a lot of outside help. The companies have lawyers, they have experts, they probably have friends in government. A lot of lawyers and experts that companies hire used to work for the government, and they know these processes inside out, and so the community needs to be as or more organized. They’re already on the losing end of a power imbalance.
In a way, none of this is about what companies can do, because I presume that companies are responsive to pressure. Multinationals, insofar as they’re shareholder-owned, their main goal is to maximize value, and that’s it. It’s that simple. And so in order to get them to behave differently towards communities, outside forces need to take a role. The first outside force is the community itself. A second is, how involved is the government? And how objective and public-serving is the government? Where governments take a more objective role and help protect the baseline rights of communities, make sure that those rights are not being violated by companies, help distribute more culturally sensitive and appropriate information about the mine, we could get better outcomes that way.
You had activists tell you, “I support lithium mining, but this is the wrong place for it.” Do you think there is such a thing as a right or wrong place, or even a better or worse place for a lithium mine?
This was honestly the most vexing question that I had to contemplate in my own research. I often think about how these communities are called NIMBYs, and there’s two reasons that’s a really inappropriate term. First of all, the “my backyard” — not every person has private property, or that’s not their stake in the matter. It’s not about, this is going to decrease the value of my property, or this is going to disrupt my ocean view. It’s about the land that they have a deep relationship with.
The second thing is, I don’t think most of the people that call these communities NIMBYs would really want to live next to a large-scale mine, either. They are just enormous scars on the landscape. I understand that they are necessary, to some degree, to provide for the technologies that we enjoy, including life-saving and planet-saving technology. Even in my perfect world, where everyone is riding an electric bus or bike or walking around, some lithium is still needed in the near term. In the future, we could conceivably enter into a circular economy, but we don’t have the level of feedstock for that yet.
So the question remains, where are we going to mine? I don’t have an easy answer to that, but I will say that in the entire process of land use planning, the corporation is the protagonist. In the U.S., a place that I think most political scientists would say has more state capacity than a country in Africa or Latin America, we do not use that capacity to proactively plan land use. I think it would make sense to really rearrange the process such that governments plan with substantial community input, and then corporations, if we want to have private corporations doing this, get the ability to compete for contracts. I know that would be a big lift to change that policy dynamic, but I think we need to have the conversation.
You write a lot about this difficult dance between supply and demand in mining. What are you seeing right now in how the lithium industry is reacting to Trump’s dismantling of EV policy?
With Trump, it’s particularly interesting and bizarre because on the list of fast-tracked mines, you have several lithium mines and some lithium processing along with other “critical minerals.” He really wants to expand mining, to the point that the Pentagon is now the No. 1 investor in our only rare earth mine in the U.S. They bought 15% of MP Materials’ shares, the company that manages the Mountain Pass mine. And so Trump is fast-tracking mines, he’s sending huge amounts of public money to financially underwrite these mining companies. But yet, he’s destroying demand for rare earths. He loves to talk about AI and military tech — that’s a small slice of demand. It’s really about wind turbines and electric vehicle motors. That’s really where the demand is. With lithium, it’s even clearer.
That all seems like a recipe for prices to crash.
The thing is, they already had crashed because of a supply glut. But at the same time, the market will likely pick back up because we’re seeing so much action elsewhere in the world. It’s very easy to focus on the U.S., especially because the U.S. government is such a basket case right now. But if we zoom out, there’s been a bunch of recent reporting, including in Heatmap, on how rapidly the energy transition is going in other parts of the world, with China playing an enormous role not only on the trade side, but also in foreign direct investment, in setting up solar and EV manufacturing hubs in the Global South.
And so I think that Trump can dismantle EVs as much as he wants in the U.S., and that’s a shame given that transportation is our most polluting sector. I mean, that pains me as a climate activist. But the world is bigger than the U.S.
The last thing I’ll say — and this is another interesting contradiction — in the Big, Beautiful Bill, it’s not across the board against all green technologies. There’s this distinction that conservatives increasingly like to make called “clean, firm power.” So they put nuclear, geothermal, and battery storage in that. Now, battery storage, what is that made of? Lithium. So in a weird way, they like lithium mining, they like batteries for storage, they just don’t like electric vehicles. We’re still going to have lithium demand in the U.S., and lots of individual people will still buy electric cars, and blue states will still procure them for their public fleets. He’s not going to kill the market. He’s just going to slow its growth, primarily by making it less affordable for working and middle class people.
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A dispatch from Day 1 of New York Climate Week.
It’s the first day of New York Climate Week, and I spent the morning attending events hosted by companies and nonprofits focused on carbon dioxide removal, i.e. sucking greenhouse gas out of the atmosphere. The vibes were, somewhat surprisingly, optimistic — not about the state of the planet or politics or climate change, per se, but about the future of an industry with a very uncertain fate.
Senator Brian Schatz of Hawaii struck a high note opening the first event I attended, a panel hosted by the Carbon Removal Alliance titled “Progress, Politics, and the Path Forward.” “It’s not a secret that for those of us who care about climate, these are challenging times,” he told the audience. “But the momentum behind CDR is real.”
Schatz cited the nearly $1 billion fund that Frontier Climate, a coalition of carbon removal buyers, pledged earlier this year to put toward supporting the industry, as well as the fact that Congress has continued funding carbon removal on a bipartisan basis through the 45Q tax credit for carbon capture and storage, which survived last year’s clean energy policy purge.
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During the panel that followed, a lot of the discussion centered on what the industry needs from federal policy and how to build a bigger tent of supporters to lobby for those changes. It was moderated by Ella Nilsen, a former CNN climate reporter who recently became the vice president of Echo Communications. She started by acknowledging that carbon removal has a lot of skeptics in the climate movement — many are concerned that it’s a waste of money compared to investing in emission reductions, or that it’s become a justification to continue using fossil fuels. How do you change their minds?
I was interested to hear Joanna Klitzke, the head of market development at Frontier, recommend that the industry be honest about methods and projects that are not working. A few of the companies Frontier has purchased carbon removal from have failed, she said, including one trying to do carbon mineralization using steel slag on roads. “It just doesn’t work. The economics don’t pencil, The technical feasibility isn’t there,” she said. (I followed up with Klitzke by email to ask for clarification on which companies have failed, but I hadn’t heard back as of press time.) Being transparent about the failures might help convince skeptics to support the things that are working, she argued.
Broadening the tent also means getting more members of Congress interested in supporting carbon removal. Cristina Shoffer, the cofounder and director of the Clean Economy Project, stressed that carbon removal companies should be building relationships with their members of Congress before they need something. When it came to defending the tax credits during the passage of Trump’s One Big Beautiful Bill Act, she said, a lot of the companies that were trying to make their case to Congress didn’t have an existing with their representatives. Jeremy Harrell, the CEO of the conservative clean energy nonprofit Clearpath, added that we are about to be in a historic turnover point for federal policymakers, so it’s an opportune time to go to new members elected in November’s midterms, teach them about the industry, and “foster new champions.”
And what, pray tell, should the industry ask of these members? That part is still a little fuzzy. The industry’s biggest challenge is, and has long been, a lack of customers. Giana Amador, the executive director of the Carbon Removal Alliance, was optimistic that Frontier’s fund and other voluntary buyers will carry the industry forward for the next few years, but “we need to be thinking about, what is that baton pass?” she said. I heard this expression a few times today, and it refers to the moment when buying carbon removal moves from the hands of volunteers to the hands of government.
Amador mentioned potentially embedding carbon removal into California’s cap and trade market, passing federal tax credits that support a broader range of CDR methods, or expanding the federal carbon removal purchase prize — a Biden-era program to have the Department of Energy vet and buy carbon removal that is still technically alive but that, by all accounts, Trump’s Department of Energy has not carried on. “The field really needs to come together around, what is our big ask around carbon removal demand? How can the U.S. federal government create these opportunities for demand?”
Later in the day, at a summit hosted by the carbon removal registry Puro.Earth, there was more talk about how various voluntary and government frameworks are shaping demand. Kyra Power, the engagement manager for North America for the Science Based Targets Initiative, addressed some potential disappointment in the room around the Initiative’s recent Net-Zero Standard update.
In the absence of regulatory requirements that compel companies to buy carbon removal, SBTi’s standard is the next closest thing. The latest version of its standard for what counts as a “science-based” corporate net zero plan, released in June, introduced guidance requiring larger companies in higher-income countries to begin offsetting their ongoing emissions with carbon removal beginning in 2035, later than the CDR industry — which is desperate for more buyers — hoped. SBTi will also encourage companies to purchase carbon removal before that date by creating an optional “recognition program.” It hasn’t spelled out all the details yet, but it would essentially mean giving companies that buy CDR early a gold star.
Power explained that corporate buyers told SBTi that starting the requirement earlier, in 2030, was “not feasible.” But she tried to reassure the audience, noting that SBTi is already fielding inquiries from companies about how they can go after the optional recognition program.
“I hope at some point that we’re able to publish some of those reflections and insights that we’re gaining internally,” she said, “but I think it is more like an indicator that there is interest in this recognition program, there’s interest in this above and beyond framework.”
A few other quick notes on big CDR announcements before I go:
It became remarkable by being pretty normal.
Quick: What’s the most successful EV in America that’s not a Tesla? At various points over the years, vehicles such as the Toyota Bz, Chevy Bolt, and Chevy Equinox EV have claimed the title. But the most popular non-Tesla in the first half of 2026 was the Hyundai Ioniq 5 — a car that looks essentially the same as it did at its debut in 2021. It also just finished first in Edmunds’ testing of the top electric SUVs, a smidge ahead of the Tesla Model Y and the much-lauded Rivian R2.
In a market as volatile as electric cars, it’s odd for a standout vehicle to be one that hasn’t changed much in half a decade. But Ioniq 5’s sales have been slowly ticking up over the past several years because of some smart choices that allowed Hyundai to navigate the chaos of the EV transition in the U.S. Ioniq 5 has always just been there, in plain sight. So this week, I finally drove it on a California road trip — the Los Angeles to San Francisco journey I use to test many electric vehicles — to see what it does so right.
First, that look. The Ioniq 5 hasn’t changed its appearance much since 2021 because it remains so distinctive. Angular details on the doors and Ioniq’s signature pixelated taillights feel futuristic, but the overall shape is familiar. It scans more like a hatchback from the old days than an SUV, but scaled up to the high riding height Americans love in their crossovers.
The shape also makes Ioniq 5 more practical. What’s underneath the quirky exterior is essentially a five-seat crossover, the most popular vehicle type in the U.S., with a decently spacious cargo area underneath the rear liftgate. Compare that to its stablemate, the Ioniq 6. That lovely car has been discontinued in the U.S. in part because its low-riding sedan shape and small trunk didn’t appeal enough to Americans. Ioniq 5 is also just the right size, not a battleship like the gorgeous but enormous three-row Ioniq 9 I drove last summer.
Inside its EVs, Hyundai has struck an admirable balance between old and new. The central touchscreen isn’t up to the size or sophistication of what’s in a Tesla or Rivian. It does, however, incorporate EV route planning into its built-in navigation, and the driver can scan through nearby compatible chargers. The interface can be frustrating to use — it’s more of a drop-down list of stations, not the map in a Tesla that lets you tap into a Supercharger station to get its real-time information. But Hyundai gets points for trying, since I’ve criticized the likes of Toyota and Subaru for omitting the feature.
Compared to offerings by the EV-only carmakers, Ioniq 5 does, at times, feel like an EV built by a company that doesn’t specialize in electric cars. But while that leads to some annoyances and missing features, it’s not always a bad thing. For example, Ioniq 5 retains plenty of physical buttons to please the analog crowd. A row of physical buttons can put the touchscreen into map, media, or other modes. It’s a helpful touch, allowing you to change what you’re seeing on the display without the need to tap the screen. Climate control runs through a smaller touchscreen located below, and while it may not use physical buttons, it is a simple and straightforward menu that never changes.
Range delivers what you need. Longer-range versions can top 300 miles on their official Environmental Protection Agency rating, while all-wheel drive versions score in the high 200s. Our tester in the high-end “Limited” trim is rated at just 269, but that was enough to get well over 200 real-world miles while driving 75 miles per hour down the interstate. The real key here — and what made Ioniq stand out in Edmunds’ testing — is Hyundai’s 800-volt electrical architecture that allows it to charge much faster than most U.S. EVs, adding 100 miles of range in as little as eight minutes. Remember: Once you reach a good amount of range, charging speed is perhaps more important since it gets you back on the road fast.
Efficiency-wise, ours eked out a respectable 2.5 to 2.7 miles per kilowatt despite enduring some headwinds and 100-degree temperatures thanks to California’s insufferable El Niño summer. On the more temperate trip home from San Francisco, it scored more than 3 miles per kilowatt, pushing its range well above 200 real highway miles. At slower speeds and in better conditions, Ioniq 5 is efficient enough to make your electricity dollar go pretty far.
The price is right, too. A few years ago, Ioniq 5s started in the $40,000s. Since then, however, Hyundai has aggressively slashed prices and offered cheap leases to make up for the loss of the $7,500 tax credit for EV purchases last year and to keep this car competitive in the market. Today you can get the entry-level Ioniq 5 with 245 miles of range for $35,000, while a stepped-up version that can achieve 318 miles in rear-wheel drive configuration starts at $37,500. (Plus, Hyundai has sold more than 175,000 of these in the U.S. and Canada, so you could probably score a good deal on a used one, especially given the accelerated depreciation of EVs.)
Though it has been around for a long time in EV terms, Ioniq 5 looks to be Hyundai’s signature EV for America for years to come. As noted, the Ioniq 6 sedan is going away in the U.S. Hyundai has revealed a compact and affordable Ioniq 3 that might sell in big numbers in the U.K. and Europe, but it isn’t coming to America, a size-first country where small $30,000 EVs like the new Chevy Bolt just can’t gain a foothold. The other EV that will remain in the American lineup is the three-row Ioniq 9. It’s a lovely car for big families, but with a starting price just under $60,000, it prices out many buyers.
Happily for Hyundai, Ioniq 5 still sits right in the sweet spot of what we do want.
Current conditions: Tropical Storm Fay just became the sixth named storm of the 2026 Atlantic hurricane season, but it’s not expected to make landfall • A new tropical storm is brewing in the Pacific, threatening Mexico with flooding and dangerous swells • It’s a hot, sunny day in Tzfat, the mountain enclave in Israel known for giving rise to the Jewish mystic movement of Kabbalah, where much of the population is marking Yom Kippur, the holiest day of the year for Jews.

When Denmark fell to the Nazi blitzkrieg in April 1940, the still-neutral United States — fearing a German military expansion into North America — invaded the Danish kingdom’s island territory of Greenland. After the war ended, as part of the North Atlantic Treaty Organization, Washington and Copenhagen agreed to a mutual defense pact that granted the U.S. the right to build and maintain military bases across the world’s largest island. Now President Donald Trump has announced an update to that agreement that would permanently bar foreign adversaries such as China or Russia from setting up rival bases in Greenland, “completely addressing all of our many U.S. concerns.” In a post on his Truth Social platform Friday evening, the president said the U.S. would have veto power over any foreign military base or “sensitive investments” in Greenland. “For over 100 years, presidents have known the strategic importance of Greenland, but none of them were able to do anything about it,” Trump said. “I am proud to be the president that permanently and conclusively addressed this very important situation.” British Prime Minister Andy Burnham hailed the deal as a win for Arctic security. “You had an agreement already,” one Greenlander told CBS News in Nuuk, the capital. “Why not just put more troops here? It’s a little weird.”
The move comes a month after the Greenlandic government rebuked a Trump-linked company called Greenland Energy that has told investors it plans to drill exploratory wells seeking oil. Just two weeks ago, a U.S. company called Greenland Mines inked a deal to buy the Sarfartoq Rare Earths Project in southwest Greenland for over $35 million. But for all the hype over the potential to extract minerals from lands recently made accessible by retreating glaciers, the logistics of producing and exporting material out of the rugged North continue to represent a significant hurdle to commercialization.
The Trump administration is reviewing proposals for at least a dozen data centers and related infrastructure projects on federal lands spanning at least six states. The Bureau of Land Management is considering applications for at least 17,600 acres of public land across Arizona, Idaho, Nevada, Oregon, Utah, and Wyoming, according to right-of-way proposals reviewed by The Washington Sun. Valar Atomics, the next-generation microreactor developer, later confirmed to the news outlet that it had submitted an application for survey access at a 10,200-acre site in Utah, but said it had abandoned the plans.
Three-quarters of Americans now oppose nearby data center construction, according to Heatmap Pro polling. In response, the Trump administration has sought to speed up construction by using federal lands that aren’t subject to the whims of local and state officials. That effort began with a proposal to site a project at a former Department of Energy nuclear weapons site in Kentucky.
The hundreds of millions of gallons of toxic wastewater the fracking industry has disposed of in Ohio over the years is now bubbling to the surface. That’s happening in a literal sense: As The New York Times exposed in a July investigation, wastewater thought to contain radioactive materials is spewing from injection wells meant to store it underground indefinitely. It’s also happening in a figurative sense, with the state’s toxic import now becoming a political issue. Last week, Democratic gubernatorial candidate Amy Acton pledged to back a moratorium on fracking wastewater disposal during a campaign stop in Marietta, a town where the water has been resurfacing, according to the latest reporting from the nation’s newspaper of record.
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For much of my lifetime, flat electricity demand meant that transformers — the devices that works like locks in a canal to keep electricity flowing smoothly along distribution wires and step the intense voltage down to the levels needed to flow into your home — were in low but predictable demand, too. That’s all changed. The grid is aging, and the U.S. is finally doing something about it, which means swapping out old transformers for now ones. At the same time, increasingly frequent extreme weather is wiping out dozens of transformers at a time, forcing big bulk orders after a disaster. And data centers and electrification are hiking demand even higher. Meanwhile, manufacturers have struggled to keep pace, wrangling with costly assembly line upgrades, uncertain regulations, and high tariffs.
Now, however, factories are getting up and running. As my colleague Katie Brigham wrote in April, a whole new wave of startups is promising to innovate the industry. And more industrial behemoths are investing in more capacity. Hitachi Energy plans to more than double its U.S. production capacity of small- and medium-sized power transformers with a new, $528 million factory in Mississippi, Utility Dive reported last week.
The world’s biggest battery maker is betting that the U.S. market will still have plenty of demand for stuff made in China. CATL, based in Fujian province, has developed new battery technology for American pickup trucks despite U.S. tariffs all but banning Chinese automotive equipment and other electronics over security concerns. The company told the Financial Times the batteries had already been tested by U.S. carmakers, but did not specify which ones. The remarks came ahead of Sunday’s meeting between U.S. Treasury Secretary Scott Bessent and his Chinese counterpart He Lifeng in New York, where trade was a top issue. That discussion set the stage for talks in Washington between Trump and Chinese President Xi Jinping, which are scheduled for Thursday.
The fleet of electric vehicles powered by CATL batteries in China can now depend on a slightly cleaner grid. The People’s Republic brought its 61st power reactor online last week. The Changjiang-3 reactor — a Hualong One, the country’s flagship designed that cribs from America’s Westinghouse AP1000 — entered into commercial operation, according to NucNet.
California’s big virtual power plant experiment just notched a record. During the heatwave on September 9, Sunrun and Tesla dispatched more than 580 megawatts of peak power to the California grid, making “the largest distributed power plant dispatch event on record.” That’s enough capacity to power all households in Sacramento County during peak hours. “Sunrun’s distributed home batteries are operating at a scale larger than many peaker power plants combined,” Sunrun CEO Mary Powell said in a statement. “Families depend on their Sunrun energy systems for outage protection and energy independence. This historic dispatch shows that the benefits of distributed energy go well beyond individual households as we help control the cost of electricity for all Californians and reduce the need for new costly poles and wires.”