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All American cities are at risk.

The fires that have swept greater Los Angeles over the past two weeks have shattered long-held assumptions about wildfire risk. Unlike many of the catastrophic, climate-intensified wildfires that have burned various swaths of California over the past decade, the Palisades and Eaton fires have blazed past the wildland-urban interface to devastate a wide variety of neighborhoods – some of the region’s oldest and some of its newest; gridded city blocks as well as winding mountainside subdivisions; apartments, duplexes, and bungalow courts as well as stand-alone suburban houses.
In other words, the places that have burned represent a far wider swath of the American urban landscape than most burn zones. Likewise, rebuilding these places is going to raise not only locally-specific questions of wildfire safety, adaptation, and retreat, but also universally-applicable questions about energy provision and decarbonization that every American city will eventually be forced to confront. In particular, greater Los Angeles’ burned neighborhoods are already revealing a looming natural gas crisis, decades before most American cities will face it.
In greater Los Angeles’ grim collection of leveled neighborhoods, gas meters protruding from the rubble serve as stark reminders of the elaborate buried pipeline network that powered homes and businesses. As communities begin to rebuild, California’s building code, state resiliency grants, and federal Inflation Reduction Act incentives together make it highly likely that the majority of new structures will go electric, cutting their dependence on the outmoded and dangerous gas connections that may have complicated firefighting efforts. This same transition to all-electric buildings is unfolding more slowly across the rest of the country, where many residents are just beginning to embrace the ease, efficiency, and quality of heat pumps and induction stoves, or to recognize the health risks of burning gas indoors.
In even the most thoroughly devastated neighborhoods, though, a few incongruous buildings have survived. As the rebuilding effort reaches its conclusion, these grizzled veterans will become solitary consumers of gas in a soon-to-be-electrified landscape. But the cost of maintaining the branching networks that provide gas won’t shrink along with the gas customer base. With maintenance costs fixed but revenue decimated, the gas system could begin to crumble. Remaining gas users could see their bills spiral higher as greater Los Angeles’ leading gas utility, SoCalGas, attempts to meet its costs and more customers flee the system. Worse still, declining revenue could pressure the utility to cut back on repairs, leading to neglected pipelines that leak, corrode, and even spark future fires.
A version of this crisis will come for every American neighborhood eventually. Gas networks only work economically and safely when costs are shared across a broad user base. Without coordination, maintaining the gas network in electrifying neighborhoods will rapidly become an unsustainable risk borne most by those least able to transition away from gas. The best solution to this approaching crisis is both bold and simple: act proactively. Prune back the branching gas pipeline network to protect both the system as a whole and the burned neighborhoods themselves.
Local government, state regulators, and our gas and electric utilities can together support the transition of burned neighborhoods’ remaining buildings off of gas so that entire branches of the system can be shut off, leaving safer and cleaner all-electric neighborhoods in their place. This is the only way Angelenos can begin to avoid the post-fire catastrophe of skyrocketing costs and collapsing safety.
By removing an entire branch of the gas distribution network, greater Los Angeles can simultaneously make the electric grid safer and more resilient. Over the past decade, overhead power lines have become famous as one of the leading causes of wildfire ignition – but burying them usually imposes an eye-watering cost that the electric system cannot afford. Much of that cost, though, stems from the need to dig by hand around existing gas lines. By shutting down their local gas networks for good, burned and high-fire-risk neighborhoods can eliminate the greatest risk and biggest expense of burying electric lines – and in some cases, might even be able to run electric lines through the decommissioned pipes themselves.
In one sweep, greater Los Angeles’ burn zones and high-fire-risk neighborhoods like them elsewhere can eliminate two major sources of fire danger and chart a path away from the looming threat of unmanaged gas system collapse. In the midst of the state’s intensifying insurance crisis, systematically reducing the risk of new fires at the neighborhood level would also offer insurers provable risk mitigation. Pulling off this transformation, though, will require quick action — before rebuilding begins. So far, state and local leaders have focused on promising the return of normalcy, in part by attempting to suspend all-electric building requirements. Given that all-electric construction is both faster and cheaper, this rollback makes little practical sense. At a broader level, these early rollbacks constitute an attempt to avoid the hard questions of how to rebuild more safely and resiliently – and when it has become too dangerous to rebuild at all. The win-win of systematic gas decommissioning and electric undergrounding offers an onramp to those more difficult conversations.
Just how to negotiate an entire neighborhood’s simultaneous transition away from natural gas remains an unsolved problem of political will and neighborly cooperation, but greater Los Angeles’ burned zones are suddenly forcing the question. Creating a clear, affordable path to electrification for the surviving buildings will require pairing increased financial support with coordinated planning and clear deadlines to help homeowners and businesses understand the urgency of the switch.
Amidst the incalculable losses of these fires, greater Los Angeles is being confronted not only with the painful challenges of recovery, but also with the looming specter of new crises accelerated by the fires’ devastation. The risk of gas system collapse has come to greater Los Angeles decades before it will reach most other American communities. Confronting it before it becomes a disaster of its own can help secure the region’s devastated neighborhoods against future fires, while blazing a trail for other high-fire-risk neighborhoods across the country to follow.
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On Texas transmission trouble, Russian nuclear reprocessing, and ‘guerrilla solar’
Current conditions: France paused production at two nuclear reactors to avoid violating environmental rules against spewing warm water from the plant’s cooling systems during heatwave conditions • A pair of tropical storms named Mekkhala and Higos are barreling toward Japan’s eastern coast • The death toll from Venezuela’s twin earthquakes has reached nearly 200.

As I have written before, my father and grandfather sold automobiles in New York City, so I grew up with an eye to the other cars on the road. I still remember the first time I realized there was a whole new brand on American streets, when I came upon the Polestar dealership near Lincoln Center on Manhattan’s Upper West Side. Finding out that a Chinese company was behind Polestar’s sleek sedans and growing slate of electric vehicles only piqued my interest that much more. An East Asian importer’s glow-up is one thing. East Asia’s new automotive Goliath finding a beachhead in the American market is quite another story. That story has now reached an abrupt climax as Polestar veers for the exit from the U.S. market. On Thursday, the company announced plans to quit the U.S. following a Department of Commerce decision to ban Polestar from selling new cars in the country. The move represents what The Wall Street Journal described as “the first major casualty of a U.S. rule to ban Chinese software in new vehicles that connect to the internet.”
At issue? The fact that the cameras and GPS equipment in cars could be exploited by certain foreign adversaries. The company, which is controlled by the Chinese auto giant Zhejiang Geely Holding Group, had requested the Trump administration’s permission to sell vehicles under a process that would have complied with the rule. But regulators said no. Polestar isn’t completely disappearing. The company said it would sell off its remaining stock of vehicles and keep open service centers for repairs, potentially retaining the infrastructure to redeploy if political winds shift. It bears mentioning, then, that the new rule was a product of the Biden administration. Here’s my colleague Robinson Meyer with more on the logic behind it.
If you buy a parcel of land in Texas, there’s a reasonably good chance you can do what you want with it, unlike other parts of the U.S. with more restrictive zoning rules. As a result, Texas is a top destination for data centers, and the top destination for wind and solar developers. But the same cultural deference to property rights that allows companies to build stuff in Texas also grants landowners ample opportunity to challenge the sort of project that proves difficult in any American jurisdiction because it spans so many different tracts and municipalities: Transmission lines. On Thursday, Utility Dive reported that several hundred landowners in Central Texas had filed a petition with the Public Utility Commission of Texas, asking the regulator to pause permitting on a proposed 765-kilovolt transmission line that would stretch roughly 200 miles across the middle of the state from Big Hill, near where a 200-megawatt wind farm started up a few years ago, to Bell County, just north of Austin. Transmission lines are notoriously difficult to build in the U.S., and making construction easier is a key demand of clean energy supporters for any kind of federal permitting overhaul. Whether Republican support for streamlining the federal approval process can weather the winds of American politics long enough to counter the effects of the not-in-my-backyard types remains unclear. But opposition to the Texas power line grew after state Representative Brad Buckley, a Republican, joined 42 other lawmakers in filing an amicus brief supporting the group American Stewards of Liberty, a nonprofit that supports property rights.
In New York, meanwhile, Albany’s in-house energy innovation agency is putting up money to refresh the aging statewide grid. On Thursday, the New York Research and Development Authority unveiled $24 million in funding for projects to modernize the state’s poles and wires. “As New York’s electricity system evolves, improving how electricity is managed, delivered, and utilized will be critical to maximizing the performance of our existing grid infrastructure and delivering greater value to consumers,” Doreen Harris, NYSERDA’s chief executive, said in a statement.
First came the Trump administration’s scrutiny of its offshore wind business. Then the federal deal to blow off its U.S. projects and refocus on gas drilling drew Democrat’s scrutiny. Now French energy giant TotalEnergies’ decision to take $1 billion from the Trump administration to back out of its two wind projects off U.S. coasts could draw a leery eye from authorities in its home country. On Thursday, a Paris court ruled that the company had to tighten its climate reporting by accounting for the planet-heating emissions produced when customers burn the oil and gas it sells.
The decision comes amid an unprecedented heat wave that saw France record its hottest temperature ever when, as I told you yesterday, thermometers nearly topped 111 degrees Fahrenheit on Wednesday. The case is the first to test whether France’s 2017 so-called corporate duty of vigilance law could be applied to climate change. The court ruled that the law is not intended to make companies “responsible for the risks linked to climate change, which result from all human activity on the planet since the Industrial Revolution,” the Associated Press quoted from the decision. But the statute does request that companies act “according to their own situation.” The ruling stopped short of ordering Total to reduce its output of oil and gas, but directed the company to complete an assessment of the emissions from its consumers in the next six months. It’s unclear whether the company will be able to meet that requirement, or what may come next as a result. But a growing renewables division to offset the emissions from elsewhere in its business probably wouldn’t hurt.
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In the United States, the Department of Energy is racing to create nuclear “campuses” where startups can experiment with ways to affordably reprocess spent fuel to recycle the uranium in reactors and extract rare isotopes for medical treatments. The effort to establish a whole new industry to recycle nuclear waste comes more than half a century after then-President Jimmy Carter killed the nascent private-sector effort to reprocess atomic fuel, a technological capacity that significantly reduces the stockpile of highly radioactive fission byproducts but lays the groundwork for more enrichment of weapons-grade material. All the while, Russia emerged as one of the top nuclear recyclers. Now Moscow is looking to expand its dominance. This week, World Nuclear News reported that the Kremlin’s state-owned nuclear company Rosatom is planning a new reprocessing facility that aims, for the first time in the industry’s history, to have a modular design that makes expansion easy. The first module will have a capacity to produce 400 metric tons of new reactor fuel per year. “Industrial nuclear recycling technologies and a developed infrastructure are not only a solution to a pressing environmental challenge in our country,” Andrey Nikipelov, Rosatom’s deputy director general for mechanical engineering and industrial solutions, said in a statement. The project, the largest ever built in the country, would “provide Russia with a unique opportunity to cement its leadership in the global nuclear solutions market,” he said.

Yesterday I told you that the widening gap between future supply and demand of copper, which is needed for virtually every electric thing imaginable, was prompting a growth in output from two existing mines owned by a joint venture between Anglo American and the Chilean state-owned company Codelco. Another sign of bullishness on copper: The Canadian mining company Hudbay Minerals just bought all the remaining shares it didn’t already own of the Arizona Sonoran Copper Company. The deal establishes the third-largest copper district, as regions with mining operations are known, in the U.S. In a press release, the company pitched the new combined portfolio as an asset to battery manufacturers looking for all-American mineral supplies.
Meanwhile, the U.S. military is making land on bases available to mining companies to speed up the domestic processing of more critical minerals. On Thursday night, The Wall Street Journal broke news that the U.S. Army had awarded long-term leases to mining and extraction companies Titan Mining Corporation, EnergyX, Ioneer, and REalloys for refining minerals needed for American manufacturing.
Here’s a peek inside one of my daily groupchats: While discussing New York’s Democratic primary election results this week, my friend defended the progressive left’s energy record by pointing out Assemblymember Emily Gallagher’s recent victory in passing a law to legalize balcony solar. An apartment dweller himself, he was excited at the prospect of how generating a small amount of solar power might change how he thought about electricity. (Playing the cynic, I complained that there wasn’t enough widespread support for large-scale generating projects like restarting the Indian Point nuclear plant, building new reactors upstate, or celebrating the forthcoming transmission line to connect the five boroughs to Quebec’s hydroelectric system.) But if this is to catch on, it may be helped by different terminology. Let me introduce you to: Guerilla solar. Reading this latest piece from Dan Gearino at Inside Climate News, I was struck by just how much catchier the slick two-word name is than “balcony solar.”
Three climate stories that caught my eye today.
It’s been a busy few days for climate and energy news. So instead of focusing on a single story in this edition, let’s try something different and check in with a few big ones I’ve been thinking about:
Wednesday was the hottest day ever recorded in France, according to the country’s weather agency, Météo-France. The commune of Palluau, not so far from the country’s Atlantic coast, recorded a high of 43.8 degrees Celsius, or 110 degrees Fahrenheit.
The United Kingdom also set a new June temperature record. Spanish officials have suggested that the heat wave may have killed as many as 212 in their country alone. Germany, Austria, Italy, and the rest of central Europe also face searing weather.
I was particularly struck that many cities in France and Germany recorded their warmest night ever. A town in Rhineland-Palatinate, for instance, saw overnight temperatures remain above 79 degrees Fahrenheit earlier this week.
Although that might not sound so bad to American ears, it is alarming in a country where most homes do not have air conditioning. Heat waves are the deadliest type of weather event on an annual basis, but they are slow and silent killers: They prove fatal when temperatures stay high for hours, or days, at a time, and the body’s natural cooling mechanisms give out. The human body can withstand a hot day or two; it can’t hold out a hot day, a hot night, another hot day, another hot night, ad nauseam.
And let’s clearly say, too: This is climate change. As my colleague Jeva Lange wrote in 2024, record-breaking heat is the clearest symptom of anthropogenic global warming caused by carbon emissions — and therefore fossil fuels. Preventing disasters like this one is why Europe, the fastest-warming continent, has invested so much in decarbonization and net zero.
(But I suspect that in the coming years, it will invest more in air conditioning, too.)
Once a quarter, the Federal Reserve Bank of Dallas surveys oil and gas executives on how they're feeling about the sector. Their anonymous comments, collected at the report’s end, periodically make news — last year, you might recall, respondents were less than thrilled with the president’s policies — but I was struck by a comment in the most recent survey, which came out yesterday.
“The collision of AI development with local community activists rhymes with the early response to fracking,” one unnamed drilling executive said. “It's unclear how competitive we can be in the AI arms race unless we temper the rights given to NIMBYists (not in my backyard) and the legal maneuvers they use to stop progress.”
Now, look: Oil and gas executives care about the boom in part because data centers are major energy consumers. But this comment stood out because it uses the same historical analogy I’ve been meditating on. If you think back to the early 2010s, I’ve said, fracking was new and worrying to many people. But over the course of the decade it became politically polarized, with red states and some purple states embracing it and many blue states backing off of or banning it.
That’s been my framework. So I was shocked to see that J. Stuart Adams, the president of Utah’s state senate, lost his primary to a fellow Republican challenger this week. The campaign was driven by Adams’ approval of a massive data center partly owned by the “Shark Tank” celebrity investor Kevin O’Leary, known as Mr. Wonderful. The 40,000-acre data center — which could consume up to 9 gigawatts, a New-York-City-on-a-warm-spring-day’s amount of power — has proven to be enormously unpopular in Utah, and Adams ultimately demanded O’Leary shrink the project. But that didn’t pacify Republican primary voters, who have now booted Adams from a 20-year career in state politics.
Why does this matter? Because that’s not very fracking-like at all. In the 2010s, state and local Republican leaders may have faced tough battles over pipelines or eminent domain, but their voters did not broadly reject oil and gas development the way they seem to be doing for data centers now. (As our polling at Heatmap shows, the facilities are now deeply unpopular even among GOP voters.) This suggests data centers may be closer to what, say, urban housing projects or nuclear power plants once were to the American electorate — a type of highly controversial economic development that local politicians must either “own” or “fight,” and which, regardless, they see as existential for their careers.
And that in turn suggests a very different future for data centers — and a very different electricity load growth forecast — may be coming.
One last thing, and it's short. Like all middle-aged millennials, I pine for the return of cheap, useful pickup trucks like the old Ford Ranger or Toyota Tacoma. And like all millennial climate journalists, I wish electric vehicles were cheaper.
So I was delighted to see the news that the U.S. startup Slate has somehow managed to build a $25,000 two-seater pickup EV. It says it will start delivering them by the end of this year. Read Heatmap’s new piece by Andrew Moseman to learn how they did it.
Today’s top-of-the-line electric vehicles are self-driving computers on wheels built to feel as futuristic and digital as possible. They come with artificial intelligence-powered assistants, enormous touchscreen interfaces, and huge batteries.
The Slate pickup truck’s signature feature? Hand-crank windows.
As Slate Auto has developed its attempt at the bare-bones EV over the past couple of years, its 1990s-nostalgic manual windows became a symbolic choice, one meant to signal just how far it was willing to go in pursuit of affordability. On Wednesday, Slate gave us a fuller picture, revealing the details about its vehicle and providing a glimpse at how the Jeff Bezos-backed startup plans to sell an EV truck at an entry-level price. But while the pickup’s lack of power windows or a built-in stereo system are attention-grabbers, a lot of the savings lie under the skin.
Just how cheap is it? The “Blank Slate,” a version of the truck with zero bells and whistles, starts a hair under $25,000. This is a compact truck in the spirit of decades past, with two seats up front and nothing more. For a Slate that seats more than a couple, choose the SUV or fastback configuration that bumps up the price to about $30,000 or $32,000, respectively.

From there, Slate’s à la carte model takes over. Choosing a wrap to make your whole truck a color other than gray costs $499, though blessedly, Slate provides dozens of color choices as opposed to the handful of neutrals and muted colors offered on a typical new car. The portal to design one’s Slate becomes a rabbit hole of possible choices — custom taillight designs, roof racks, and wheels — all of which add a little or a lot to the price of the truck. These add-ons can quickly propel a Slate deep into the mid- or even high-$30,000s range if you’re not careful. The point, though, is that the $25,000 EV is front and center.
To achieve this starting price required a heavy dose of vintage or simplified tech. Roll-down windows and no built-in stereo speak to drivers who aren’t automotive engineering experts. But as reviewers and online commenters have noted, crank windows aren’t a make-or-break money-saver — they might knock off $20 or $40 per vehicle — and so few companies use them now that Slate had to go out of its way to source them from Brazil.

A bigger cost-cutter was Slate’s embrace of old-school manufacturing and its willingness to consider “yestertech” that’s still perfectly serviceable, but has fallen out of use because better systems have come along. The chassis, for example, is made of ordinary steel — 250 pieces welded together as opposed to the more efficient stamping methods that have taken over automotive manufacturing. While Slate has a familiar, inexpensive MacPherson suspension up front, its rear uses a design called the De Dion that dates back to the late 1800s. (The Autopian has a nice technical write-up about why this choice makes sense.)
We often default to calling EVs smartphones on wheels because of the Tesla approach to making them — the so-called software-defined vehicle that routes its main functions through touchscreen interfaces and gets new features via over-the-air updates. So perhaps a comparison to the phone industry is apt. In the same way budget-conscious buyers were waiting for Apple to make the “affordable iPhone,” drivers have been waiting for the automakers to roll out the entry-level EV. But instead of the cheap Tesla, what we got is the Slate, which is something more like a flip phone on wheels.
That’s not to say it won’t succeed. Flip phones are enjoying a resurgence, after all, powered by their low price and by growing dissatisfaction with life in this age of touchscreens. But Slate’s unusual position in the car industry makes it difficult to predict how American drivers will respond. For those shopping solely on price, Slate may not measure up. The cheapest gas-powered cars in America include the likes of the Toyota Corolla, Hyundai Elantra, and Volkswagen Jetta, and their starting price in the mid-$20,000s includes the basic creature comforts you’d expect from a modern car, not to mention seating for at least four. In a world that still had the $7,500 federal tax credit for buying an EV, the Slate would undercut these gas-burners. In this world, it can’t (though you could add a slew of options to the Slate before it would cost the same as the $35,000 electric truck under development at Ford’s skunkworks operation).

What Slate has going for it, though, is its ability to become the exact car you’d like. Normal cars come with three or four “trim levels,” each of which adds a thousand dollars or two in exchange for more features. In practice, many people are stuck with whatever version they can actually track down at a dealership. Slate follows the Tesla-Rivian model of direct-to-consumer sales, and its trademark customizability means buyers are limited to picking from two or three versions of a car, but can design every single piece of their truck.
To be sure, lots of people don’t want this. Many are presumably happier buying a car off the familiar lot without the mental overload of choosing every single thing about their vehicle. The question is whether a quorum of drivers are ready for a new way to buy a car — or at least, so fed up with fluctuating gas prices and the out-of-control prices of new vehicles that they’re ready to take a chance on rolling their windows again.