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If you’re of a certain age, you probably remember the hole in the ozone layer. Like Joseph Kony and Livestrong wristbands, the obsession over O3 now feels like a cultural artifact, thanks to ozone depletion being one of the rare success stories of international environmental cooperation. Since the world banned chlorofluorocarbons under the Montreal Protocol in 1987, the holes over the North and South poles have steadily recovered.
Today, if you hear about “ozone” at all, it’s much more likely to be from an air quality alert on your phone. Unlike the stratospheric ozone that we were all so concerned about in the 1980s and 1990s, which makes up a protective layer around the planet that insulates us from the sun’s cancer-causing ultraviolet rays, “tropospheric” or “ground-level” ozone is mainly man-made. In fact, when people throw around the word “pollution,” what they’re probably talking about is ground-level ozone, which is created by a chemical reaction between nitrogen oxides (highly reactive gases produced by burning fuels) and volatile organic compounds (organic compounds that easily evaporate under normal environmental conditions and can be found in vehicle exhaust as well as scented personal care products like deodorants, lotions, and bug sprays), plus sunlight. This chemical reaction usually occurs when cars, refineries, power plants, and other industrial sources emit pollutants into the environment during a hot, clear day. You probably know the result by its other name: smog.
Ozone is a climate issue not just because it is yet another concerning consequence of burning fossil fuels. According to some estimates, high levels of ground-level ozone pollution could grow in frequency by three to nine additional days per year by 2050 because of the gas’s close relationship with intense sunlight and high temperatures. While ozone dissipates fairly quickly once those conditions go away, it can build up while they last. Hot days, which are increasing in the U.S., also coincide with weak winds and stagnant air — conditions that allow ozone to accumulate in one place.
When the temperatures start to rise, here’s what you need to know and what you can do to protect yourself and others from ozone pollution.
Different pollutants cause concern at different concentrations. The Air Quality Index is designed so that, in theory, a level of “100” corresponds to the point at which people in sensitive populations might start to be affected by the pollutant in question. (To learn more about how the AQI is calculated, you can read our explainer here).
That said, “The evidence has clearly been increasing that lower levels of ozone — levels well below the current standard of 70 parts per billion — are causing more health impacts,” Katherine Pruitt, the national senior director of policy at the American Lung Association, which is campaigning to strengthen the standard to 55 to 60 parts per billion, told me.
As Pruitt explained, ozone is a caustic irritant and can corrode metals. Breathing it in can cause inflammation in anyone, “from vulnerable children and elders to even the fittest elite athletes,” Pruitt said, adding that it is, “at some level, like getting a sunburn on your lungs.” Anyone who spends time outside is vulnerable to ozone, but the more sensitive groups — including children; the elderly; people with asthma, chronic heart disease, and other diseases; and pregnant women — are at a higher risk. They might already be paying more attention to the AQI levels in their area, and will potentially notice that they need to slow down and limit exertion during “yellow” or “orange”-level ozone events.
In the short term, ozone pollution can cause coughing, shortness of breath, and a lowered immune response, on top of aggravating any preexisting lung conditions or diseases. But Pruitt stressed to me that “living in places that have high levels of ozone day in and day out, for months and years, can cause respiratory diseases, nervous system disorders, metabolic disorders, reproductive problems, and mortality. It’s not just a cough and a wheeze on one bad air day.”
Ozone requires two main ingredients: the burning of fossil fuels and other chemicals, and sunlight. While ozone concentrations can be high in communities with a lot of industry and freeways nearby, ozone is “not really so much a roadway problem; it’s more of what we call an ambient air pollutant,” Pruitt said. Ozone can travel far away from where it was produced, in other words.
There are some rules of thumb, though. The places with the highest emissions and most appropriate atmospheric conditions for ozone pollution are “increasingly the western U.S. and the Southwest,” Pruitt said. The top four worst cities for ozone on the 2024 State of the Air report by the ALA were all in California, led by Los Angeles and Long Beach.
Since the passage of the Clean Air Act in 1963, other regions of the country have been doing much better, including the Southeast, mid-Atlantic, and Northeast. (Bangor, Maine, had the cleanest air in the report.)
Because ozone is so strongly related to sunlight, it does not cause indoor air pollution to the same extent as wildfire smoke (which, if you’re keeping score, is a PM2.5 pollutant). “Because it’s so reactive, it gloms onto your furniture and your walls and stuff, once it gets inside,” Pruitt said of ozone. To protect yourself, you can just stay indoors and run your air conditioner.
But what if you want or need to go out? Because ozone is a gas rather than a particle, HEPA filters and face masks won’t protect you. Instead, Pruitt said that you can time your errands, tend to your garden, and exercise when the sunlight is the weakest — mornings, especially, tend to be less demanding on the lungs during ozone events.
The Clean Air Act of 1963 requires the Environmental Protection Agency to review the national ambient air quality standards for ozone (as well as several other pollutants) every five years. “It almost never actually does it every five years” though, Pruitt said. “Sometimes advocates have to sue them to get them to move things along.” The EPA completed its last review in December 2020, with the Trump administration maintaining the 70 parts per billion standard set in 2015. Attacks on the Clean Air Act would likely resume if Trump retakes office.
Aside from agitating for stricter clean air standards, there are measures you can take to protect others from ozone events. The simplest is not to contribute any more nitrogen oxides and volatile organic compounds to the environment than you otherwise have to when ozone levels are high. Avoid driving or idling your car; top off your tank during the coolest parts of the day, such as after dark; minimize your electricity use; and set your air conditioner no lower than 78 degrees.
In the long term, reducing ozone pollution will mean “choosing greener products for cleaning and personal care, so that we’re not producing volatile organic compounds,” Pruitt told me. The National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration previously found that in New York City in 2018, “about half” of the ambient volatile organic compounds it measured were produced by people, not vehicle exhaust. (Here’s a guide to reducing VOCs from your rotation.)
Additionally, “transitioning to zero-emission technologies so we're not burning fossil fuels” will help limit ozone pollution, Pruitt said. The difference can be pretty significant: A study from the University of Houston published earlier this month found that by switching to electric vehicles, New York and Chicago could prevent 796 and 328 premature pollution-related deaths per month, respectively. Counterintuitively, the study found that more EVs on the roads could increase mortality in Los Angeles due to a corresponding increase in secondary organic aerosols caused by complicated dynamics between nitrogen oxides and volatile organic compounds and the city’s unique geography. “This underscores the need for region-specific environmental regulations,” the authors said.
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Pollution from peaker plants combined with heat and smoke can push summer air quality into the danger zone.
If you ever have to pick a day to stay inside, pick July 5. In cities across the United States, the Fourth of July’s pyrotechnic revelries make the wee hours after Independence Day consistently one of the worst of the year for air quality. Just look at Washington, D.C., which briefly held the distinction of having the world’s most polluted air this past Sunday morning following one of the largest firework displays in history.
But if you have to pick a second day to stay inside, shoot for one during the second half of July, which is the hottest period of the year in the United States. For one thing, it’s just plain miserable out. For another, the country’s 1,000 or so peaking power plants, or “peakers,” are more likely to be operating to meet the energy demands of heavy air-conditioning use, emitting disproportionately high levels of pollution for the electricity they generate.
Peakers are the backup power sources operators run only when demand is at its highest, such as during a heat wave. Peakers are also “probably the dirtiest and most expensive energy on the grid,” Abbe Ramanan, who leads the Phase Out Peakers project at the nonprofit Clean Energy Group, told me. “They tend to burn dirtier fuels, such as oil, and typically have older and less efficient emissions control systems.”
Some 63 million Americans live within a three-mile radius of a peaker, according to a 2023 Clean Energy Group report, where they face health conditions including “significant … increases in estimated rates of hospitalization for asthma, acute respiratory infection, and chronic obstructive pulmonary disease,” all conditions associated with proximity to fossil fuel-fired plants. On top of that, historic redlining practices mean two-thirds of peakers are located in communities with a higher percentage of low-income households than the national average, according to the group’s reporting. And yet peakers also provide life-saving power and AC when a blackout could mean death, such as during last week’s heat wave on the East Coast, making them simultaneously a menace and necessity to maintaining public health, at least with our current grid.
What exactly is peaker plant pollution? How does it appear in the Air Quality Index you might see on your phone? And how do local regulators consider pollution when issuing air quality forecasts? I set out to get answers.
To understand peaker plant pollution, let’s start with a refresher on how air quality alerts work.
The AQI scale runs from 0 to 500 and reflects the local concentrations of five major pollutants: particulate matter, ozone, carbon monoxide, sulfur dioxide, and nitrogen dioxide. Each pollutant has an Environmental Protection Agency-regulated benchmark for what is safe (many of which are set at levels clean air advocates argue are too lax). As concentrations increase, the overall AQI rises to warn first “sensitive groups” and then the general public when to take precautions, such as limiting outdoor activity or wearing a mask. (To learn more about the AQI scale, read my colleague Emily Pontecorvo’s explainer here.)
As do all fossil fuel power plants, peakers release planet-warming carbon dioxide as a byproduct of combustion, along with nitrogen oxides, particulate matter, volatile organic compounds, and other trace toxins that aren’t captured in the AQI, such as heavy metals. Oil and coal-fired power plants also release sulfur dioxide, which creates acid rain; natural gas-fired plants, on the other hand, emit comparatively little.
While NOx is an irritant in its own right, it is, more significantly, a key ingredient in the chemical reaction that creates ozone. When NOx mixes with volatile organic compounds — found in vehicle exhaust, personal care products, and yes, also power plant emissions — on a warm, sunny day, the chemical reaction creates ground-level ozone, which is corrosive enough to scar lung tissue with repeated, prolonged exposure. An expert once helpfully likened it to me as “sunburn on your lungs.” Health researchers have determined that, globally, ozone (also known as smog) causes a million premature deaths every year.
Yes, although it’s not an easy or neat measurement.
Peaker plants are used to rapidly supply electricity to the grid when demand exceeds the baseload capacity. As a result, they run infrequently — only about 5% of the year, or 464 hours per plant, in 2022, per Clean Energy Group’s analysis of 2022 EPA data. Using a stricter definition of peakers, the Government Accountability Office found that the plants represent nearly a fifth of the nation’s potential generating capacity but produce only about a 30th of its overall electricity, mostly due to the time they spend sitting idle.
Power plants use a number of emission control systems to limit emissions of various pollutants. But the EPA has much looser requirements for low-operating peakers, which “may not have effective, if any, emissions control technology,” the GAO writes. When operational, peakers emit an estimated 60 million tons of CO2 per year, with a median NOx emission rate about 6.1 times greater per unit of electricity generated by natural gas-fueled peakers compared to non-peaker gas plants.
“One really big issue with peakers is the emissions control systems are not operating during times when the plant is starting up or shutting down, which means that emissions are just unabated during those times,” Ramanan told me. “And because those plants tend to operate in short bursts, such as during a heat wave, they will start up and shut down more frequently.” Even up to a day beforehand, when the plant is running its test cycle, it might be emitting pollutants even while not actually providing any power.
One 2017 study by University of Wisconsin–Madison researchers found that across the Eastern U.S. from 2007 to 2012, total electricity generation rose by about 4% for every 1-degree Celsius (1.8-degree Fahrenheit) increase in daily summer temperature, with NOx correspondingly up 3.6% and CO2 up 3.3%. Though these numbers aren’t peaker-specific, the plants represent a disproportionate share of the rise since they’re reserved for the hottest, heaviest-load days.
Though the slower rise in NOx suggests “slightly cleaner plants … on average,” the authors write, that is “not completely unexpected, as new natural gas plants are required to have controls installed even as some peaking plants do not.” They note, however, that their data does not fully capture grandfathered-in units, since gas- and oil-fired peakers are allowed non-direct-measurement reporting.
In fact, in Maine and Connecticut, which “use more petroleum for electricity generation than most states in the U.S., primarily as peaking plants deployed on the hottest days,” NOx jumped 33% and 23% per degree Celsius, respectively. Separately, a 2016 study found that peaking plants may have accounted for up to 87% of local particulate matter in the PJM Interconnection during a July 2006 heat wave.
Peaker plant pollution is significant enough that chronic exposure in local communities has measurable health impacts. But how does it factor into summer AQI levels?
My colleague Matthew Zeitlin spoke this week with Margaret LaFarr, the New York State Department of Environmental Conservation’s director of air resources, who told him that peaker plant pollution is “one of the factors we consider” in formulating its air quality forecasts. But because the state’s agency uses modeling to predict when and where air quality will be poor, the granularity of a single peaker just isn’t there. “If we have to have specific information on the emissions, it would not be ready in time for a timely advisory,” LaFarr said.
Ramanan, whose nonprofit has diligently recorded the negative impacts of peakers, concurred that it is “difficult to pinpoint just how much peaker plants contribute to local air pollution because those sorts of studies are just very expensive to do.” Studies that look at disproportionate health impacts, on the other hand, are a little simpler to put together.
Additionally, while the AQI might rise locally near peakers during a heat wave, because of the nature of the scale, it can’t neatly distinguish why. A high ozone reading, for example, might just as easily be due to tailpipe emissions on a hot day; in the New York metro area, vehicles are responsible for an estimated 60% of the air pollution. Meteorological conditions — whether it’s sunny, a key factor in ozone formation, or which way the wind is blowing — obscure the picture. Particulate matter readings could be from a peaker, for example, but they could just as easily be from wildfire smoke.
One way air quality activists like to think about peaker pollution is as a co-occurrence — that is, a compounding pollution on top of already degraded conditions. Hot days tend to be the worst for ozone already, because of the aforementioned tailpipe pollution; peakers, activated to help with the heat-related energy load, then release more ozone-generating emissions at the worst possible time.
While a precise breakdown of the AQI might not be there for peakers, “we know the days that are more conducive to ozone formation generally tend to be those same days where people are cranking up their ACs and there is a higher demand for energy,” LaFarr said.
There is some speculation that cleaner input fuels could help reduce the worst peaker plant emissions. Generally, this is true: The 2017 study by the University of Wisconsin–Madison researchers found that from 1997 to 2015, in Texas, petroleum use in electricity generation dropped 85% and coal dropped 12%, while natural gas increased 57%. As a result, Texas had the lowest level of SO2 sensitivity of any state.
But beyond the existing fuel mixes, fuel switching is not a clean fix for peaker plants. “Burning things like hydrogen and [methane captured from waste processing facilities] don’t actually reduce the air pollution burden in any meaningful way,” Ramanan argued. “Hydrogen in particular tends to actually have extremely high levels of NOx emissions when it’s combusted.”
In Astoria, a neighborhood of New York City, activists opposed retrofitting the local oil-powered peaker plant to run on natural gas because doing so would “lock the state into relying on fossil fuels for decades, fly in the face of the state’s climate law that requires a drastic reduction in carbon emissions by mid-century and continue to pollute in an already overburdened community where many residents are immigrants and live below the poverty line,” Inside Climate News reported. At the same time, doing so would “reduce the state’s greenhouse gas emissions by more than 5 million tons through the year 2035,” per its owner, NRG Energy.
But a third way emerged: New York eventually denied NRG’s permit because it violated the state’s climate law, and the utility subsequently sold the Astoria facility to serve as the converter station for Beacon Wind, a development off the coasts of New York and Massachusetts.
While wind, new transmission, and battery storage all face enormous headwinds in the current political climate — meaning that many peaker plants targeted by activists for retirement are likely to stick around for years yet — advocates remain adamant that a playbook exists for decarbonization. “In terms of replacing one-to-one capacity, we’ve been looking at battery storage even just at peaker plant sites that can be paired with renewables or grid connected batteries,” Ramanan said, adding that “really great work is also being done in terms of virtual power plants and demand reduction — because it’s not just about reducing peak capacity, it’s also reducing the peak overall.”
That raises a final, particularly thorny question: Is air pollution from peaker plants “worth it” if it means being able to run AC?
A 2018 follow-up study by the same team of researchers at the University of Wisconsin–Madison explored a similar question. They found that climate change alone would increase summer mortality related to the smallest airborne particulate pollution by more than 13,500 deaths, and ozone-related mortality by more than 3,500 deaths in a mid-century scenario. AC-driven power sector emissions — full-fleet numbers, albeit disproportionately including peakers — would, on top of that, account for 654 PM 2.5 deaths and 315 ozone deaths, a nearly 5% and 9% increase, respectively, over climate impacts alone.
Researchers credit access to air conditioning in the United States with a 75% decline in deaths, and modeling exercises frequently show that a blackout during a heat wave could realistically result in hundreds of thousands of people needing medical attention. But clean air advocates also point to examples like Astoria, where the denial of a permit to retrofit a peaker plant for slightly better fossil fuels resulted in the grounds being used for a renewable energy source instead.
It’s certainly not an easily replicable process given the current political and economic climate, but it also perhaps suggests a false dichotomy of peakers vs. AC. Affordable power and livable spaces are just two among a host of community needs energy and public health officials must keep in mind.
“It’s not enough to just replace the existing system with renewables and battery storage and have fewer emissions,” Ramanan said. “It also has to be equitable, because otherwise we’re just going to replicate the same issues we’re having now in different ways.”
Two former defense officials argue that Rivian may be as important to America’s national security as SpaceX.
For years, policymakers have debated electric vehicles as if they were merely another consumer product. They are not.
Electric vehicles are the largest source of demand for advanced batteries, and batteries are rapidly becoming one of the foundational technologies of the 21st century. They power cars, drones, data centers, grid storage systems, autonomous weapons, military platforms. Over time, they will power most of the wider economy. In strategic terms, batteries are beginning to look less like mere automobile components and more like semiconductors — that is, chokepoint technologies critical to the functioning of modern society.
The future of the U.S. EV industry matters far beyond transportation. Given that electric vehicles remain the primary source of demand for batteries, a healthy U.S. battery sector requires an American auto industry that produces and sells EVs at scale. Without a strategic plan that marshals both public and private sector investment in support of EV uptake by American consumers, the U.S. will leave itself with critical security vulnerabilities — not in some far-distant future that may never come to pass, but in the present.
Right now, China rules the global battery ecosystem. Chinese firms lead not only in battery manufacturing, but also in the upstream processing of critical minerals, the production of midstream cathodes and anodes, and the commercialization of next-generation battery technologies. China also controls most of the global processing capacity for graphite, the key material used in battery anodes, and dominates production of the intermediate components that determine battery cost and performance.
The implications of this imbalance extend well beyond auto production, or even mere economics. As we know well from our time serving in the Pentagon, the Department of Defense’s future force will rely increasingly on electrification. Tactical drones and other autonomous systems, portable power units, communications equipment, unmanned logistics vehicles, and resilient military installations all require advanced batteries. In case any of this remained in doubt, the conflict in Ukraine has demonstrated beyond dispute the central importance of battery-powered platforms on the modern battlefield. The same will inevitably prove true in the Indo-Pacific, where the U.S. military is investing heavily in unmanned systems designed to operate across vast distances and obviate risks from lengthy supply lines.
Unfortunately for the Pentagon, defense demand alone is far too small to sustain a globally competitive battery industry. The Department of Defense cannot create the manufacturing scale necessary to compete with China, as military procurement represents only a tiny fraction of battery demand. Only the commercial market can provide the volume needed to drive innovation, lower costs, and sustain domestic production, and the commercial market is driven overwhelmingly by electric vehicles. Here, the loss of consumer tax incentives undermined American automakers’ turn towards EVs, causing them to write off tens of billions of dollars of investments.
This is the strategic reality often missing from America's energy debate. Even a country as large and powerful as the United States cannot maintain a world-class battery industry while undercutting the largest source of battery demand.
Some policymakers appear to believe that the United States can support battery manufacturing for military systems, artificial intelligence infrastructure, and grid storage while simultaneously slowing EV adoption. That is wishful thinking.
Without a robust domestic EV market, battery manufacturers lose the scale that makes investment attractive, and production will inevitably move elsewhere. That's fine for other manufacturing sectors like t-shirts and toys, but unacceptable for technologies with critical national security applications.
The United States has seen this movie before. American firms pioneered many of the technologies behind solar panels, lithium-ion batteries, and lithium iron phosphate batteries, but China ultimately captured much of the manufacturing base for these products. Through sustained investment, patient industrial policy, and relentless focus on scale, Chinese firms drove down costs and built ecosystems that are now extraordinarily difficult to replicate. The result is that companies such as CATL and BYD occupy increasingly dominant positions in the battery sector, akin to those once held by American technology champions.
As a result, China's EV industry is now becoming a global export powerhouse. Chinese automakers are no longer producing low-cost copies of Western vehicles. As we know firsthand from a recent tour of the Xiaomi factory outside Beijing, Chinese factories are now producing technologically sophisticated products that are winning on price, performance, and quality when compared with the best that the United States or Europe have on offer. As a result, companies like BYD are rapidly gaining a larger share of the huge Chinese market and rapidly expanding their footprint internationally.
This matters because automobiles remain one of the world's largest manufacturing industries. The global auto market generates trillions of dollars in economic activity and supports millions of jobs. For more than a century, American prosperity has been tied in part to leadership in transportation manufacturing, but that leadership can no longer be taken for granted.
In China, electric vehicles and hybrids already account for more than half of new vehicle sales. Across Europe, adoption continues to rise. In many developing countries, falling battery prices are making electric transportation increasingly affordable. The direction of travel is unmistakable: The global market is shifting toward electrification.
If American automakers fail to compete in that market, they will steadily lose market share abroad. That would not simply reduce profits. It would weaken one of the country's most important industrial sectors and diminish the manufacturing base that has historically supported national defense in times of crisis.
Recent geopolitical events underscore the stakes. The disruptions to Middle East energy infrastructure because of the Iran conflict and the related threats to shipping through the Strait of Hormuz served as a reminder that oil remains vulnerable to geopolitical shocks. Electrification is not a complete solution to energy insecurity, but economies (and militaries) with greater electrification, diversified power sources, and advanced battery industries are better positioned to withstand such disruptions.
China understands this. Beijing does not view batteries, EVs, renewable energy infrastructure, and industrial competitiveness as separate issues. It views them as components of a single strategic package. As energy storage, modularity, and transmission become the key enabling technologies of the global economy, the United States must adopt this same holistic approach.
This does not mean attempting to replicate China's economic model or wantonly abandoning domestic fossil fuel production. It simply requires recognizing that batteries are a strategic industry — and that electric vehicles are the primary mechanism through which that industry achieves scale.
During the 20th century, policymakers understood that leadership in steel, automobiles, aerospace, semiconductors, and telecommunications had national security implications, and thoughtful policymakers sought to build U.S. advantages in these key sectors. The same logic applies today.
The question is no longer whether the future of transportation is electric. Most of the world has already answered that question. The issue before us now is whether the United States intends to build the batteries that will power the next era of economic growth, military capability, and industrial strength or import them from China, with all the vulnerabilities that will entail.
On Trump’s gas boom, Germany’s fusion push, and Meta’s Canadian complex
Current conditions: Sandusky, Ohio, just saw 17 inches of rain in one day, smashing the previous state record of just under 11 inches and blowing past the 1-in-1,000-year threshold of less than 9 inches • Another heat dome is forming over the western United States, threatening landlocked desert cities such as Phoenix, Las Vegas, and Palm Springs with temperatures over 110 degrees Fahrenheit • An extremely rare tornado touched down in Alaska’s Susitna Valley, one of just 11 recorded in the state since 1950.

The record-shattering heatwave that roasted Europe last month killed thousands — and potentially far more than initially estimated. Last week, the French government released its estimate for the death toll from the elevated temperatures: 2,025 people died who wouldn’t have under average weather conditions. But Le Monde, the nation’s newspaper of record, suggested the tally was undercounting. On Tuesday, Carbon Brief published a new analysis by two scientists suggesting the actual figure surpassed 2,700 deaths. To calculate the difference, the two American researchers compared the observed temperatures from June 12 to 29 with their baseline average from 1980 to 2025 to understand the disparity between the number of deaths during heat waves then versus now. “We found that France experienced around 2,700 heat-related deaths above the average baseline,” the report concluded. “Day-to-day heat-related mortality rates rose from less than 100 to almost 300 on the hottest days of June 24 to 25.” In Germany, meanwhile, the Federal Statistical Office’s preliminary data shows more than 5,000 excess deaths during the late-June heat wave, Bloomberg reported. During the last full week of June, the agency known as Destatis recorded 5,486 more deaths than during the median from the same period from 2022 to 2025. Now yet another extreme heat wave is forming in Europe this week, the third so far this year.
The lethal heat has raised the volume and temperature of Europe’s ongoing debate over air conditioning. Much ink has been spilled over why, exactly, Europeans eschew the cooling appliances Americans adore. My colleague Robinson Meyer offered one of the most interesting explanations I have seen yet: Europe’s otherwise superior window design makes traditional AC units difficult to place. Either way, Europe’s surging far-right parties see a political opportunity in championing AC. France’s Rassemblement National, led by Marine Le Pen, has begun campaigning on expanding access to cooling. Germany’s far-right Alternative für Deutschland, meanwhile, has accused the country’s center-right government of “abstaining from air conditioning” due to “climate hysteria,” leaving people to be “sacrificed on the altar” of energy austerity, per The Guardian.
When President Donald Trump took office at the start of 2025, the U.S. Energy Information Administration predicted that 23 gigawatts of new gas plant capacity would be built in the U.S. between 2026 and 2030. The agency’s latest forecast for that same period is now 66 gigawatts. The boom reflects what E&E News described as both Trump’s energy policies and the rise of artificial intelligence. At the same time, a new International Energy Agency analysis suggests that Trump’s war against Iran dampened forecasts for global gas consumption for only the third time in seven years. Worldwide demand is expected to drop by 0.5% this year in response to major disruptions of liquified natural gas shipments from Qatar and the United Arab Emirates. Gas demand in Asia in particular softened amid higher prices and government efforts to switch from LNG to other fuels, such as coal. Fresh fighting in the Strait of Hormuz suggests the contraction could continue if the fragile ceasefire signed last month breaks. On Tuesday, two tankers were struck by projectiles while passing through the narrow waterway at the mouth of the Persian Gulf. The U.S. military accused Tehran of the attacks and launched new strikes on Iran, according to Al Jazeera. Trump told reporters at the NATO summit in Turkey this morning that the ceasefire was “over.”
In a more direct analysis of the effect of Trump’s energy policies on actual prices Americans pay, the think tank Energy Innovation found that the administration’s overall spending cuts and changes would force U.S. households to pay an additional $650 billion for energy between 2026 and 2040. That’s an average of $460 per household in 2035 and $490 in 2040. By eliminating incentives for electrification and green-energy manufacturing, the report concluded, the administration’s policies cost the U.S. a cumulative $2.3 trillion in lost gross domestic product through 2040.
Germany may have infamously abandoned nuclear fission, sending electricity prices soaring and making the country more reliant on coal and Russian gas imports. But Berlin wants fusion. On Tuesday, the Germany-based Proxima Fusion announced that it had raised nearly $469 million in its latest funding round, increasing its valuation to nearly $2.9 billion and establishing the startup as Europe’s best-funded fusion company. Among the backers were Google and the German utility giant RWE. “Google’s investment underscores continued interest in fusion as a potential source of abundant, carbon-free, firm energy over the long-term,” Proxima said in a press release. “One of the largest private investments in European technology this year — and the largest ever in European fusion — the round reflects growing recognition of fusion power as a strategic technology for energy security, economic resilience, and industrial competitiveness.”
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A major new mining project in Arizona that promises to increase the domestic supplies of at least five critical minerals just received final approval of its environmental review. On Tuesday, the U.S. Forest Service gave the developer South32’s Hermosa Critical Minerals Project the green light on the last step of its yearslong National Environmental Policy Act study. The completion of the NEPA process paves the way for the project to build key infrastructure beyond privately held property onto the federal land that’s part of the Coronado National Forest, including a primary access road, a tailing facility, and allowing the local utility to build a portion of a 138-kilovolt power line. It’s also a symbolic win for the Trump administration. The project was the first mine included in the federal FAST-41 permitting program to speed up approvals for key projects. South32 secured its place on that list due to the mine’s potential to generate zinc, silver, and manganese — all of which are needed for modern energy and military technologies. “From the beginning, we designed Hermosa to be a different kind of mine, and the federal review process helped make it even better,” Pat Risner, South32’s president in charge of Hermosa, said in a statement. Arizona Senator Ruben Gallego, a potential contender for the Democratic presidential nod in 2028, praised the project for “producing critical minerals that will power our 21st Century energy economy.”
Meanwhile, the American lithium-mining startup EnergyX just pulled in a significant new investment to complete its giant project in Chile. Already a top global producer of the metal needed for batteries and electric vehicles, the South American nation’s new right-wing government is trying to draw in more private investment as it rethinks the country’s domestic energy policies, as I reported last week. On Monday, EnergyX unveiled a $225 million strategic investment from the Italian oil giant Eni. As I told you last year, Eni has bucked other oil majors’ downsizing the ambitions of their greener ventures, even investing $1 billion into Commonwealth Fusion Systems last fall.
New Jersey Governor Mikie Sherrill approved a suite of legislation Tuesday to overhaul the process for siting data centers in the state, placing a new tariff on large loads, requiring companies to disclose water and energy use, and scaling back tax credits for server farms themselves. It’s no surprise: Sherrill, a Democrat, won last year after campaigning on cracking down on soaring power rates in a state Heatmap’s Matthew Zeitlin described last week as “ground zero for the political backlash to high electricity prices.” In a statement, Sherrill blamed “poor oversight, outdated policies, and rising demand on our electric grid by unchecked actors” for the price spike. “This is a breakthrough moment,” Rewiring America cofounder Ari Matusiak, who served on Sherrill’s transition team, said in a statement. “For the first time, a state has created a policy pathway for data centers to fund verified demand flexibility, including energy efficiency, demand response, behind-the-meter storage, and managed electrification. That means rising electricity demand can become an opportunity to invest in homes, businesses, and communities instead of shifting costs onto families and small businesses.
Hyperscalers, meanwhile, are now looking northward. On Tuesday, the Canadian outlet Juno News published a scoop identifying Meta as the mystery developer behind a $10 billion data center complex in Alberta, the western province of Canada also known for its tar sand oil fields. The Facebook parent company’s project is tied to a 932-megawatt gas-fired power plant.
The UAE’s oil and gas shipments are just starting to flow again — a reality that could remain tenuous as fighting renews in the Strait of Hormuz. But one thing has changed for sure: Abu Dhabi’s crude production is now unleashed. Since quitting the OPEC oil cartel in April, the UAE’s output of oil topped 3.8 million barrels per day, unnamed sources told Reuters. That’s a six-year high, apparently vindicating Abu Dhabi’s push against OPEC’s restrictions on pumping.