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Investors are betting on gas to meet the U.S.’s growing electricity demand. Turbine manufacturers, however, have other plans.

Thanks to skyrocketing investment in data centers, manufacturing, and electrification, American electricity demand is now expected to grow nearly 16% over the next four years, a striking departure from two decades of tepid load growth. Providing the energy required to meet this new demand may require a six-fold increase in the pace of building new generation and new transmission ― hence bipartisan calls for an energy “abundance” agenda and, where the Trump administration is concerned, dreams of “energy dominance.” This is the next frontier in the fight between clean energy and fossil energy. Which one will end up fueling all of this new demand?
Investors are betting on natural gas. If these demand projections aren’t just hot air, the energy resource fueling all this growth will be, so to speak. Where actually deploying new gas power is concerned, however, there’s a big problem: All major gas turbine manufacturers, slammed by massive order growth, now have backlogs for new turbine deliveries stretching out to 2029 or later. Energy news coverage has mentioned these potential project development delays sometimes in passing, sometimes not at all. But this looming mismatch between gas power demand and turbine supply is a real problem for the grid and everyone who depends on it.
Taking a closer look at the investment plans of GE Vernova, the U.S.’s leading gas turbine manufacturer, suggests that, even as energy demand ramps up, these delays will persist. Rather than potentially overinvest in the face of rising demand and suffer the consequence of falling prices, GE Vernova and its competitors are committed to capital discipline, lengthening their order book, and defending shareholder value. Their reluctance to invest, while justified in some part by the nature and history of the industry, will threaten policymakers’ push for energy abundance ― to say nothing about economic growth or innovation.
Meanwhile, supply chain shortages will constrain the growth of clean energy generation. Inadequate investment in gas and an insufficient buildout of renewables in the face of unprecedented demand growth ― these are a toxic cocktail for the American energy system. Forget visions of an all-of-the-above energy strategy. How about none of the above?
Energy project developers, utilities, and investors have already started adjusting their gas buildout expectations and timelines. NextEra CEO John Ketchum stated in an earnings call that new gas projects “won’t be available at scale until 2030, and then only in certain pockets of the U.S.” That’s due not only to turbine queues, but also to an historically sluggish and increasingly expensive gas project development environment. “The country is starting from a standing start,” he added. “This is an industry that really hasn’t seen any active development or construction in years … all of that puts pressure on cost.”
Even in Texas, where lawmakers created the Texas Energy Fund to provide $10 billion of concessional financing to new gas power plants, delays are biting developers’ balance sheets. Just last week, private developer Engie withdrew two loan applications for gas peaker plant projects due to “equipment procurement constraints.” There’s no other way to spin it — the turbines are the problem.
Given that wait times and reservation payments drain developers’ liquidity and increase their financing costs, energy giants are trying to cut the line. Chevron is partnering with GE Vernova to develop up to 4 gigawatts of gas power plants for data centers. NextEra also announced a partnership with GE Vernova, through which the two companies will co-develop and co-own “multiple gigawatts” of natural gas power plants.
It’s safe to say that GE Vernova’s power division is riding high. The company’s investor materials suggest a heady growth trajectory. Gas turbine equipment orders rose 66% between 2023 and 2024, from 41 turbines to 68 turbines. Those 68 turbines represented about 20 gigawatts of capacity, double 2023’s order book. Developers reserved 9 gigawatts more of turbines; those reservations will turn into contracted production orders by 2026. At this point, 90% of GE Vernova’s total order volumes are in its backlog; for its power division, that represents almost $74 billion of equipment delivery and service contracts.
The company plans to invest $300 million into its gas power business in the next two years. And CEO Scott Strazik is pitching investors on continued growth. “Given our expansion plans to produce 70 to 80 heavy-duty gas turbines per year beginning in the second half of 2026, up from 48 this year, we are positioning to meet this demand. We expect to grow our gas equipment backlog considerably in 2025, even as we ramp to ship approximately 20 gigawatts annually starting in 2027, and expect to remain at that level going forward,” he said on the company’s Q4 earnings call.
That last sentence should give readers pause: GE Vernova has plans to build no more than 20 gigawatts of turbines per year, and developers that miss the cutoffs will just have to queue up for the next year’s order book. Why the limit?
Strazik laid out two key reasons. First, he’s looking for developers’ “receptivity to pay for what I will call premium slots” in 2028 and 2029, to “capture every dollar of price with the precious slots available,” as he told investors during a different presentation in December. GE Vernova’s annual report, which it released in February, refers to this strategy ― inviting desperate developers to bid up the price of scarce turbines ― as “expanding margins in backlog.” Second, the company remains hampered by supply constraints, particularly on ramping up its new heavy-duty and H-class turbines. There are real limits to how much more GE Vernova can build, and how quickly.
But over the longer term, it looks like GE Vernova is intentionally committing more to capital discipline rather than to broader capacity expansion. The company has $1.7 billion in free cash flow, a third of which it will return to shareholders through dividends and stock buybacks. And Strazik wants to avoid using the rest to underwrite what he sees as dangerous overcapacity that could threaten GE Vernova’s profitability. “I think we have to be very thoughtful to make sure that we don't add too much capacity, even though we are starting to sell slots into 2029,” he said during the investor update. “We're going to continue to be very sequential on how we invest.”
Strazik’s current strategy prioritizes productivity and efficiency improvements at GE Vernova’s existing plant in South Carolina over building new manufacturing facilities. Some capacity expansion, sure ― but no new plant. “Concrete's expensive, cranes are difficult,” he told investors. The company’s main competitors abroad, Mitsubishi and Siemens, have the same backlogs, and Mitsubishi, at least, is responding with a similarly measured strategy. Mitsubishi CFO Hisato Kozawa is open to some degree of capacity expansion, but maintains that Mitsubishi can only increase capacity “in a very planned manner with discipline. And if we need more capacity, we may want to first improve the rotation of the capacity.”
To the CEOs of all three companies, history would likely seem to justify this discipline. In 2017 and 2018, years of investment into capacity expansion coincided with a near-total collapse in global demand for gas turbines. This market crash was most likely the combined effect of low energy demand growth, energy efficiency improvements, continued use of coal power across Asia, the growing share of renewable energy on the grid, and investors’ realization that solar and wind energy could meaningfully undercut gas on price. All three companies laid off tens of thousands of employees, and the crash contributed to the complete breakup of General Electric and its partial spin-off into GE Vernova last year.
These gas turbine manufacturers are also some of the world’s leading wind turbine blade manufacturers, and a similar fate befell that sector in the past decade. Large-scale capacity expansion and competition for contracts drove down costs and margins across the supply chain — only for those to move sharply in reverse when supply chains froze up during the pandemic and interest rates shot up in 2023. Now offshore wind projects are plagued with problems and, at least in the U.S., President Trump’s de facto moratorium on offshore wind development has further reduced the sector’s ability to bounce back. These companies have been burned before. It only makes sense not to repeat past mistakes.
Combined-cycle gas turbines are complex machines, similar to airline engines in their intricacy and in the extensive global supply chains required to produce them. But their leading producers, afraid of getting over their skis, won’t undertake the massive upfront investments required to increase their long-term production capacity. Where does this leave the energy transition?
Bankers and energy project developers alike can see the writing on the wall. Beth Waters, managing director for project finance at Japanese bank MUFG, has insisted that “renewables have to be part of the electricity mix. It cannot just be gas-fired.” NextEra’s Ketchum has said the same: “Renewables are here today,” he stated during the latest earnings call — unlike gas. Jigar Shah, the head of the Department of Energy’s Loan Programs Office under President Biden, wrote on LinkedIn about his confidence that “batteries will be deployed at 10X the capacity of combined cycle natural gas units over the next 4 years.” Major utility companies, for their part, still have large clean energy procurement targets in their integrated resource plans. The smart money is clearly betting that an “all-of-the-above” energy deployment strategy will be better than eschewing any particular energy source.
They’re being optimistic. Not only does new utility-scale renewable energy take years to build, there’s also not yet enough transmission and longer-term energy storage on the grid to balance the variance in existing solar and wind resources. That prevents solar and wind from providing the kind of 24-hour stable power that corporate and industrial customers demand. Expanding energy storage and transmission resources will depend not just on regulatory reforms to permitting and interconnection, but also on resolving the severe bottleneck in grid transformers, where analysts believe capacity expansion has also failed to meet roaring demand, resulting in wait times of three to four years. (GE Vernova and Siemens build grid transformers too.) The status quo has left hundreds of gigawatts of clean energy projects across the country stuck in a regulatory and financing limbo, and the grid issues that tie up clean energy development will further constrain gas power growth.
To be sure, President Trump’s “energy dominance” agenda seems to favor the development of clean firm energy resources, such as nuclear and enhanced geothermal, to cut through the literal gridlock. The gas turbine manufacturers, all of which build steam turbines for nuclear power, stand to benefit from interest in restarting and upgrading now-shuttered plants. But building new nuclear projects currently takes at least 10 years, if not more. The singular new nuclear project built in the U.S. in the past three decades was completed seven years late and almost $20 billion over budget.
Enhanced geothermal might fare somewhat better ― its drilling technology comes straight from the fracking sector, and the pilot projects of companies like Fervo are achieving impressive heat and electricity production targets. Still, to turn heat into electricity, Fervo needs turbines, too. While enhanced geothermal projects need organic Rankine cycle turbines, as opposed to the combined-cycle gas turbines used in gas power plants, commodity market strategist Alex Turnbull theorizes that the commonalities between the two will threaten geothermal developers with the same delays and bottlenecks. (Fervo’s turbine supplier is an Italian subsidiary of Mitsubishi.)
The tech giants building data centers are already investing in new power ― but if neither nuclear nor geothermal can be deployed at scale in the absence of massive policy support, then that leaves tech companies paying for whatever energy sources their regional electricity grid relies on in the meantime. As Cy McGeady, a fellow at the Center for Strategic and International Studies, told Heatmap last year, “Nobody is willing to not build the next data center because of inability to access renewables.” But drawing so much from existing resources ― mostly gas, but also nuclear ― without building sufficient new power leaves less for every other energy consumer.
Policymakers on both sides of the aisle have their work cut out for them to avoid a crisis born of a failure to build any energy resource adequately: They must execute a thorough grid overhaul while also punching through the specific supply chain bottlenecks that prevent energy generation from being built quickly. Regardless of energy demand projections, these are goals worth pursuing. They advance grid reliability, energy affordability, and decarbonization, as well as accommodate any necessary energy supply growth.
Still, it’s worth questioning the prevailing narratives around load growth. It’s not clear how much energy data centers in particular will actually require. Not only have innovations like DeepSeek challenged market assumptions about tech companies’ investment requirements, but recent research also suggests that load growth projections could fall significantly if data centers’ energy demand were more flexible. Not to mention that data center developers often make duplicate interconnection requests with different utilities to maximize their chance of securing a power agreement.
Our energy grid will need a lot less hot air if data center demand goes up in smoke ― and that would be a relief for American consumers and the climate alike. But courting a gas turbine crisis should itself give policymakers pause. The fact that our energy system is at a point where neither turbines nor transformers nor transmission is available in sufficient capacity to meet any policymaker’s vision of energy abundance suggests that our leaders must reorient the government’s relationship to industry. During periods of economic uncertainty, capital discipline might appear rational, even profitable. But the power sector’s profits are, through rising energy bills and more frequent climate disasters, revealed to be everyone else’s costs. Between clean energy and fossil fuels — between what Americans need and what private industry can provide — the energy transition is shaping up to be, quite literally, a power struggle.
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We didn’t know days like this could happen. Then we learned how bad they really are.
When I woke up this morning in Chicago, the Air Quality Index was in the 300s, and I could barely see the top of the skyscraper across the street. The weather app on my phone featured a little image of a man wearing a World War I-style full-face gas mask. That’s fun, I thought. I didn’t know it could do that.
I went downstairs. Old photographs of the city were hanging in the hotel lobby — girls playing in bathing suits next to the lake — and I realized that the haze shrouding the old Lakeshore Drive condos was in fact haze, smoke, particulate matter, and not a lens artifact. It really used to be that smoky all the time, back before the Clean Air Act. Then I glanced up and saw that the haze out the window was far worse than the century-old pollution in the picture.
It’s significant, I think, that a mass smoke-out like this has now happened to the eastern U.S. for a second time. Second times matter. When exhaust from Canadian wildfires blanketed the Northeast and parts of the Midwest in June 2023, exposing more Americans to wildfire smoke than on any previous day in history, one could almost write it off as a freak occurrence. It was upsetting, sure, and reminiscent of California’s climate-addled amber skies. But didn’t wildfire smoke also descend on New England once in the 1780s? Even on a warmer planet, couldn’t this remain a once-in-a-century blip?
Twice in just over three years, though — that‘s more than a hiccup. That’s almost a trend. To get smoked out once may be regarded as a misfortune; for it to recur again, without any plan to respond, starts to look like carelessness. The federal government is doing roughly diddly squat about adaptation — President Trump can build a fan on the border and make Canada pay for it — but state and local governments across the eastern U.S. will now need to reckon with a new form of extreme weather. You grew up with snow days, but now we’ll have smoke days — and schools and sports leagues and concert venues will need rules about how to deal with them. When should games be canceled, tickets refunded? Is smoke more like a heat wave or a hurricane? Hotels and office buildings will need to review their ventilation policies and possibly upgrade their equipment; municipal emergency response plans will be revised and printed in triplicate.
All this will happen because the smoke has invaded a second time — and arguably a third, if you count last year’s minor episode — and that means it could come back again. For that reason, this event strikes me as a much bigger deal than what happened in 2023. The smoke is now a fact of life; institutions will need a policy about it. The tortious creep of litigation risk will enforce that outcome, even if no federal official enforces it.
So it goes. But to be clear, this new inconvenience is not what worries me most about today’s events. No, what frightens me instead is that today’s airborne toxic event is not something that was supposed to happen. Until a few years ago, we had not thought too hard about whether a major smoke exposure event like this could happen on the East Coast at all. It had not seemed possible.
For years, economists and climate scientists have simulated how global warming might affect the U.S. and global economies. They poured years of careful work into this modeling, and they simulated — with ever-increasing levels of statistical persnicketiness — what extreme heat and sea-level rise might do to agricultural yield, labor productivity, energy demand, heat mortality, and real estate values, among other potential sources of damage. This work was useful; it improved our practical understanding of coastal flooding, to name one example. It also helped calibrate U.S. regulatory policy, even if it never achieved the crowning heights of helping to set a national carbon tax.
Yet these careful models almost never accounted for mass smoke exposure days. Indeed, the kind of thing that happened this week — when heavy haze blows down from Canada and exposes more than 100 million people to hazardous air — was not countenanced by the simulations at all. Only in recent years did economists begin to study events like these, and only because mass exposure events like 2023’s happened first.
We’ve long known that the tiny shreds of particulate matter in wildfire smoke dance across the body’s barriers and penetrate its deep places, etching their way into lung, heart, and brain tissue. Inflammation follows. What makes days like today unique is the scale: Tens of millions of Americans inhaling wildfire smoke at the same time. As we’ve started studying this phenomenon, it’s become clear that the mortality effects of days like today, the deaths elevated above what you’d otherwise expect, can persist for years. That becomes extraordinarily expensive for society.
How costly? “When monetized,” a group of Stanford and Princeton economists wrote in Nature last year, in the first major study on the topic, “the climate-driven smoke deaths result in economic damages that exceed existing estimates of climate-driven damages from all other causes combined in the U.S.A.”
You read that right: The cost of climate-worsened wildfire smoke alone is larger than what earlier studies said every other estimated cost of climate change would be, combined.
To summarize, wildfire smoke did not appear in our economic simulations of climate change. As recently as a few years ago, we did not really know that days like today — or June 7, 2023; or September 15, 2020; or September 9, 2020 — could occur. Then they happened. And happened again. And then we studied them and discovered that, in fact, they may be more expensive for the U.S. economy than we once thought climate change itself would be.
That worries me. Now we know these smoke-out days can happen; now they are fast becoming a rare but predictable feature of summer life. But until recently they were unimaginable. What other ignominies, what other tail risks and airborne surprises, are lurking in the uncontrolled experiment we’re running on the biosphere? What else — unforecast, unmodeled, unstudied, unthought of — lies ahead? After 10 years of covering the climate system, I am not someone who lies sleepless fretting about atmospheric CO2. But I do wonder what else we don’t know enough about to ask.
“Microsoft, you can’t hide, we can see your dirty side!”
Protestors interrupted one of the final sessions of PNW Climate Week — a conference that brings together climate leaders across Washington, Oregon, and British Columbia — objecting to Microsoft’s rising carbon emissions from data centers and partnerships with oil and gas companies. The company’s Chief Sustainability Officer Melanie Nakagawa was having a one on one conversation with GeekWire climate reporter Lisa Stiffler at Seattle’s City Hall when protestors carrying signs reading “Microsoft’s AI pollutes” and other slogans began shouting from the audience.
I was there, having just moderated the prior panel on how to finance Washington’s clean energy ambitions. Early on there were some rumblings in the crowd from up front. “Climate leaders don’t build gas pipelines in Moses Lake,” was the first objection I heard clearly. It came shortly after Nakagawa kicked off the conversation by highlighting Microsoft’s partnership with sustainable aviation fuel startup Twelve, which recently opened its first commercial-scale SAF plant in Moses Lake, Washington. The tech giant has supported the project through a strategic investment from its Climate Innovation Fund, as well as an offtake agreement for the fuel that will help offset its emissions from employee travel.
Whether Microsoft is building a gas pipeline in this particular community I haven’t been able to determine, though it seems irrelevant to Twelve’s SAF facility, which doesn’t rely on natural gas. But it is true that Microsoft is one of the largest power consumers in Grant County, Washington, home to Moses Lake, where a natural gas pipeline operator is looking to expand its network to accommodate data center load growth.
Another audience interruption was more pointed. “How does signing a 20-year deal with Chevron help you reach your clean energy goals?,” one protestor asked, referring to Microsoft's recently announced power purchase agreement with Chevron for nearly 2.7 gigawatts of natural gas-fired power to supply a West Texas data center. The project represents one of the largest gas-powered artificial intelligence developments in the U.S., and Stiffler acknowledged that she had been planning to ask about it, herself.
Nakagawa answered the question. at least in part, saying “that project with Chevron is initially using natural gas and it’s a natural gas contract,” before emphasizing that the company has built “over 4.5 gigawatts of clean energy already today,” and remains committed to balancing speed-to-power with its clean energy goals. She added that, “with this deal in particular, we’re looking at a range of tools in our toolbox to ensure that we can continue to grow our power, but also do so in a way that is responsible and sustainable.” She stopped short, however, of making any commitments to transitioning the project to renewable energy over time.
The session became more chaotic from there. Another protestor stood up, shouting that “Microsoft is enabling genocide in Palestine.” Other activists joined in, while still other audience members shouted back. As Nakagawa recovered and resumed answering a question from Stiffler about Microsoft’s recent decision to pause its carbon removal purchases after years of dominating the nascent industry, protestors throughout the crowd began a chant of “Microsoft, you can’t hide, we can see your dirty side.” Security eventually shepherded many of them out.
Stiffler continued speaking with Nakawaga about the company’s clean energy efforts, touching on many of the protestors’ concerns as she asked about community opposition to data centers, the role of large corporations in the clean energy transition, and whether Microsoft can realistically achieve its goal of becoming carbon negative by 2030.
Nakawaga emphasized that the company must, “first and foremost, listen to where the communities are and what they are calling for.” Regarding the concerns she hears most often, she explained that “first has been transparency. Second has been around resource uses and what are we doing about those resource uses. We’re hearing about jobs and employment and investments in education, investments in housing.”
If this session was any indication, those concerns won’t go away anytime soon.
Heat kills more Americans than any other extreme weather event in the United States. But wildfire smoke — while not strictly “weather” — appears to kill even more. Current excess death estimates put American heat mortality at about 10,000 people per year, or possibly as high as 12,000. Recent studies on wildfire PM 2.5 exposure suggest a mortality of double that: 24,000 all-cause deaths every year.
Needless to say, wildfire smoke is definitely not something you want to inhale if you can avoid it. (And really, you should try to.) But for the 115 million Americans in the Great Lakes and Northeast regions of the country who’ve been exposed to hazardous air from the fires in Ontario and Minnesota this week, there’s a chance that the damage is already done. According to a wildfire smoke mortality estimation tool from Cornell University’s School of Public Health and the Northeast Regional Climate Center, the total mortality for this smoke event could already be as high as 424 people so far, including nearly 100 in Michigan and more than 50 in both New York and Wisconsin.
Alistair Hayden, an assistant professor of practice in Cornell’s Department of Public and Ecosystem Health, stressed to me that the tool is a “first draft,” and that his team is still working on getting it peer-reviewed. “We intend it as a hypothesis that people can test in the coming weeks or months to confirm our numbers,” Hayden told me. “I’m really hoping to be proven wrong.”
But Hayden also emphasized that while the West Coast might historically be where many smoke-related deaths have occurred, “this is the third out of four years [in the Northeast] that we’re having the smoke, so it seems like something we should be planning for,” he said. “It reminds me of that saying: ‘Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.’”
Admittedly, the smoke this week is a bit of a freak occurrence. A cooler-than-average sea surface pattern across the North Pacific, known as a negative phase of the Pacific Decadal Oscillation, helped produce weak low-pressure areas in the northwestern part of the United States, which in turn allowed for heat domes to develop across the Southwest and Plains. After one did just that earlier this month, the hot, high-pressure dome then shifted north, where it developed “dryness across Canada, followed by the lightning-producing thunderstorms,” Chad Merrill, a senior meteorologist at AccuWeather, told me. Then, boom: widespread fires.
“It is very unusual to have a combination of an El Niño and a negative phase of the Pacific Decadal Oscillation,” Merrill went on. “That’s one of the unusual factors this year, which contributed to the heat dome being farther north in that particular position.” The heat dome and jet stream then worked together to direct the thick smoke down into some of the most populous regions of Canada and the U.S.
That’s what makes this particular smoke event so bad. Were the smoke blowing over remote regions of Canada, as it would under more usual conditions, “then the big cities and the Great Lakes wouldn’t experience the smoke; it would have gone north toward the Hudson Bay and then Greenland,” Merrill said. In fact, the Canadian fire season is tracking below average overall; it’s the meteorological conditions that made this week’s smoke events, as one outlet put it, “the perfect storm.”
Wildfire smoke in the region is not historically anomalous, however. A 1903 article in The New York Times describes a “yellow day” similar to smoky events in 1894, 1881, and earlier. But large-scale burns in Canada’s dense, remote boreal, which produce more smoke, are increasing. Though it’s difficult to attribute any one wildfire directly to climate change because of the complex nature of such events, we do know that fire weather is becoming more common with the warming of the atmosphere from greenhouse gas emissions. As modeled by Zeke Hausfather in the Friday edition of his newsletter The Climate Brink, “hotter, drier seasons burn the most” in Canada — and “recent years cluster there” as the country has outpaced the global average in warming.
But as Hausfather also writes, “While overall area burned is the climate-linked trend, who breathes the smoke on a given week in July is mostly driven by the weather.” This is similar to the way that, though it may be a quiet year in the Atlantic, it only takes one hurricane making landfall in the right (or wrong) spot for the season to be remembered as catastrophic.
On the other hand, as foolish as it might be for the Central Plains and East Coast to still believe smoke is the exclusive domain of Westerners, it is also a mistake to assume smoke only comes from without. As I reported earlier this year, the Eastern half of the country has seen a 10-fold jump in the frequency of large burns over the last 40 years. Nowhere is safe from the smoke.
Planning and preparation, then, should be paramount. But as Grist learned last month, there are no established Air Quality Index numbers that would trigger the postponement, relocation, or cancellation of, say, a FIFA World Cup game, including the final, which is set to be played in New Jersey on Sunday. White House officials are reportedly meeting with FIFA’s president on Friday to discuss contingencies, given the unhealthy air quality in the region.
Which brings us back to Hayden’s modeling. He offered a note of optimism in that research by Stanford’s Sam Heft-Neal and his colleagues indicates that emergency room visits do not rise in tandem with increasing wildfire smoke. “As smoke gets bad, the health impacts get bigger. But then as smoke gets worse and worse, the amount of health impacts actually goes down, measured for emergency room visits,” Hayden said. “The idea is that people modify their behavior in higher smoke” — say, by staying indoors, wearing masks, or canceling outdoor events.
It’s time to treat smoke as an East Coast phenomenon, in other words. Doing so will save lives. “Will [smoke events] become more frequent in the future? Most likely we will see a recurrence,” Merrill, the meteorologist, told me. “How often they happen is yet to be determined.”