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The New York mayoral frontrunner has an opportunity to shift the left’s increasingly nonsensical position on a critical carbon-free energy source.

Tuesday, November 4, New Yorkers go to the polls to elect their new mayor. They face a three-way choice — Democratic candidate, state assemblyman, and suddenly prominent democratic socialist Zohran Mamdani; Republican candidate and battery foe Curtis Sliwa; and independent candidate and former governor Andrew Cuomo.
While Mamdani’s surprise win in June’s Democratic primary electrified New Yorkers of all political persuasions, this cycle has been a relatively sleepy one for climate issues. Neither of the two frontrunners, Mamdani and Cuomo, has been keen to draw much attention to himself on clean energy.
At a televised debate two weeks ago, however, things got interesting.
“New nuclear power plants can help bring down the rising cost of utilities in New York State, yes or no?” asked moderator Brian Lehrer. “Upstate? They’re already starting, yes,” answered Sliwa, referring to Governor Kathy Hochul’s landmark announcement in June that she was ordering the New York Power Authority, the state’s public power utility, to develop a gigawatt of new nuclear energy-generating capacity upstate. Couched in atomic-powered abundance, the plan distinguishes her from Democrats nationwide primarily because she has the largest state-owned utility at her disposal, whereas other governors, from both parties, merely intimate that private developers should really get started.
To the untrained ear, Mamdani’s answer at the debate was anodyne: “I think it’s something worth exploring.” Prompted by Cuomo about whether that constituted “a yes,” Mamdani confirmed, “yeah,” to which Cuomo evinced surprise and then a “yes” of his own. On the surface, all three candidates agreed.
But in affirming the role of new nuclear plant construction to meet the state’s energy needs, Mamdani put himself at odds with a number of environmental justice nonprofits that have become fixtures of the city’s progressive left — that is, his own political home base.
“We unequivocally oppose any new nuclear facilities in New York State.” So begins a letter signed by 153 environmental justice groups, issued following Hochul’s “Future Energy Economy Summit” last fall, where she first raised the prospect. The signatories include chapters of prominent activist Bill McKibben’s advocacy groups Third Act and 350.org, Bezos Earth Fund awardee WE ACT for Environmental Justice, Food and Water Watch, chapters of the Sierra Club, and solar industry boosters Vote Solar, among many others.
When the governor advanced her nuclear plan this year, environmental organizations responded with anger. NY Renews — a coalition of groups that successfully lobbied for the state’s landmark climate law, the Climate Leadership and Community Protection Act of 2019, which was signed by Governor Cuomo — issued a statement opposing “the expansion or further investment in nuclear energy production.” An op-ed from the New York City Environmental Justice Alliance and New York Lawyers for the Public Interest called Hochul’s proposal a “dangerous distraction” from building renewables. In a separate comment issued alongside these same groups, decades-old Brooklyn Latino community organization UPROSE urged the state to avoid the “expensive and unrealistic” path of nuclear development.
The political appeal of nuclear today is undeniable. Six in ten Americans want more nuclear energy, according to a recent Pew poll. Not only is it the energy source with the smallest divide in enthusiasm between the parties, including both clean and fossil-fueled sources, the most common reason respondents gave Pew for supporting nuclear was its decarbonization potential.
New York’s nuclear energy “provide[s] reliable, continuous, predictable, emissions-free supply and must remain online to maintain electric system reliability,” according to a recent filing from the New York Independent System Operator, which manages the state’s grid. Since it takes up less land and requires fewer transmission lines than purely renewable alternatives, it could mitigate a fiery political tension in New York and elsewhere. And it’s almost universally held up as essential by industrial labor unions, for the clean, firm power it produces, and for the high-paying careers it supports. “Nuclear energy, being the cleanest, zero-emission, and most efficient way to produce energy, should be a no-brainer,” Frank Morales, the president of New York’s Utility Workers Union of America Local 1-2, which represents thousands of ConEd utility workers in the city, told me by email.
And yet despite his statement during the debate, nuclear’s decarbonization bona fides, its strong bipartisan appeal, and its acclaim from labor unions, Mamdani — a democratic socialist champion of public power and the clean energy transition — still hasn’t endorsed the governor’s plan for public nuclear power development.
This tracks an ideological inconsistency within the environmental left that has become less tenable as the need for clean power has grown more urgent. “It’s a belief system that these nonprofit groups have wrapped themselves in, and one that they have not yet been motivated to seriously reexamine,” Charles Komanoff told me. He’s the director of the Carbon Tax Center and a decades-long stalwart of New York City progressive activist groups, spanning environmental and transportation causes, among others.
Komanoff has had to reexamine his own beliefs on nuclear. During the 1970s and ’80s he opposed nuclear power, primarily for its past operational inefficiencies. He spoke before a crowd of thousands at an antinuclear protest in Washington in 1979, after the Three Mile Island incident. The premature closure of New York’s Indian Point nuclear power plant in 2021, however, finally tipped him into public nuclear advocacy. The “true Indian Point disaster,” he wrote in an analysis earlier this year, is that “emissions are mounting, and in New York City and other downstate areas formerly supplied by Indian Point, electricity is getting costlier and less dependable.”
Ben Furnas, the former director of the Mayor’s Office of Climate and Sustainability under Bill de Blasio — himself an iconic New York City progressive — has experienced this inconsistency firsthand. (De Blasio also cut his teeth in the antinuclear movement, telling The New York Times in 2019 that he’d marched against Three Mile Island in his youth.) “A lot of the old guard antinuclear activism sits uncomfortably in a broader, clear-eyed climate coalition,” Furnas told me. Mamdani, however, appears to take a “more expansive view of what a decarbonizing energy system looks like,” he said.
As a member of New York’s State Assembly, Mamdani backed a campaign to cancel the repowering of an ancient, highly-polluting gas peaker plant in Astoria, Queens, squarely in his district, that was slated to retire. He also aligned himself with the effort by Public Power NY, a coalition between the Democratic Socialists of America and environmental groups, to “build public renewables.” Both maneuvers eventually paid off — in 2021 the state denied the repowering project’s permit, and the old power plant later closed down for good; and in 2023 Hochul signed into law a (heavily rewritten) version of the Build Public Renewables Act, turning activist goals into implementable policy for NYPA.
Two years later, NYPA has made remarkable progress building state capacity in renewables. Its development pipeline of wind, solar, and battery projects now amounts to about 7 gigawatts, though most of that is still in very early stages. But Public Power NY has spent that time dismissing the progress from the sidelines, charging Hochul with “refusing to lead on climate.” While it’s true that Hochul is far overdue on implementing parts of the 2019 climate law, a huge political challenge as energy affordability becomes a top concern, Public Power NY has responded by demanding that the governor ramp up NYPA’s renewables development to a staggering 15 gigawatts deployed by 2030. Mamdani spoke at a rally for that demand just a month into his mayoral campaign last November.
Neither energy nor public power, however, has been at the forefront of his campaign, especially in these closing months. Instead, Mamdani’s laudable message discipline has been trained on affordability in New York City: free childcare, free buses, city-owned grocery stores, and temporarily freezing the rents of the city’s nearly 1 million rent-stabilized apartments. He’s even taken a decidedly pro-abundance position on housing in interviews with the Abundance co-author Derek Thompson and on the Odd Lots podcast.
It would be reasonable to ask, Even if Mamdani had aggressively talked up nuclear, what would he be able to do about it as mayor? As it turns out, there are a few routes that a Mayor Mamdani could take to influence nuclear development.
First and foremost, for half a century, the “governmental customers” of New York City have been critical sources of revenue for NYPA. The city government, the Metropolitan Transit Authority, and the New York City Housing Authority, for example, remain NYPA’s largest customers, dating back to when the state acquired Indian Point Unit 3 from ConEd during the 1974 financial crisis. While the MTA is infamously not under the mayor’s purview, at least two of those major customers are — and their power contracts are set to expire at the end of 2027, during the next mayor’s term. That’s both a bargaining chip for the next mayor and a potential avenue for the city government to subsidize, at least in part, the cost of a new, NYPA-developed nuclear plant.
Second, de Blasio already set a precedent for applying the city’s progressive tax base to help shoulder the cost of statewide clean power initiatives. To help solve an imbalance in renewable energy deployment upstate and downstate, the state created the “Tier 4 Renewable” program in 2020, at the urging of the de Blasio administration, to subsidize transmission projects that would deliver renewable energy into New York City. The enormous cost of the program, however, fell on the backs of ratepayers statewide, in proportion to their electricity consumption.
Seeing the unevenness in a program that largely helps the city, the de Blasio administration struck a deal in 2021 with the state’s clean energy procurement agency, the New York State Energy Research and Development Authority, to purchase far more Tier 4 renewable energy certificates than would have otherwise been allocated to the city based on its electricity demands via its utility, NYPA. As a result, the rest of the state’s ratepayers would save, in the city’s calculation, a few billion dollars. It’s not hard to imagine a similar possibility for the next mayor to advance the state’s nuclear policy, especially when it’s being led by NYPA.
Finally, the city’s Local Law 97 — a comprehensive law passed in 2019 requiring large buildings to meet escalating greenhouse gas emission limits or else face fines — presents another opportunity. Mamdani has spoken during the campaign about the need for the city to procure heat pumps for landlords to install in compliance with the law. But landlords also have to decarbonize their utility electricity supply, which they can do by purchasing RECs. With the recent cancellation of one of two projects that would have supplied said RECs, the real estate industry will soon be hungry for more supply.
That’s where nuclear could come into city policy. The city council could amend Local Law 97 so that nuclear energy likewise delivered into the city — from either existing or solely new sources — could be used to comply, as well. That would put landlords in a position of subsidizing a new state nuclear project, just like the Tier 4 program put them in a position to subsidize new state transmission projects. That could be a way for a Mayor Mamdani to throw them a bone amid his attacks on unaffordable housing prices.
The mild nuclear support at the debate was encouraging, Komanoff, the longtime progressive activist, told me. But “it would’ve been huge-er if Mamdani had said something specific and favorable about Governor Hochul’s gigawatt announcement over the summer.” The governor, who in September endorsed Mamdani in the race, is presumably thinking the same thing, having made NYPA — the same public power authority behind the Build Public Renewables campaign that Mamdani championed — the centerpiece of her nuclear plan.
NYPA’s vice president of corporate communication, Lindsay Kryzak, told me by email that the authority has “seen widespread support for this critical technology,” and that it’s looking forward to “ensuring the benefits of advanced nuclear energy reach our customers in all five boroughs.”
Mamdani has been a staunch proponent of public clean energy in the legislature, and he’s apparently open to new nuclear for decarbonizing the state. That he hasn’t yet embraced this public power nuclear plan illustrates the strong gravitational pull of the environmental left coalition that surrounds him, one rooted in antinuclear politics.
Across progressive and democratic socialist media, multiple activists who’ve worked on the public power campaign have revealed their personal and professional ties to nonprofits like the Alliance for a Green Economy, New York Energy Democracy Alliance, and the Sane Energy Project, all of which have firmly rejected Hochul’s nuclear plans.
As for the Public Power NY coalition itself, it wants the state to build public renewables, not public nuclear. In a statement following the governor’s nuclear announcement, it argued that the plan “shows just how unserious she is about New Yorkers’ energy bills and climate future.” According to the organization’s website, 12 of the coalition’s 16 partner organizations, excluding DSA chapters, have publicly opposed new nuclear power since the governor kicked off discussions last year. Public Power NY did not respond to requests to comment on this story.
When the New York Independent System Operator, which manages the state’s grid, warns of the dire reliability-related need for “dispatchable emissions-free resources,” a technical term whose only existing commercial realization is nuclear, one would think building more nuclear power is actually the serious thing to do. That conviction isn’t just coming from the governor’s office; it’s shared by major industrial unions like the International Brotherhood of Electrical Workers, the UWUA, the Laborers’ International Union of North America, the state Building Trades Council, and the state AFL-CIO, as I reported this summer for Jacobin.
What does labor think of Mamdani’s recently expressed openness to nuclear? Vinny Albanese, executive director of the New York State Laborers’ Political Action Fund, says over email that his union, LIUNA, is “encouraged to see Assemblymember Zohran Mamdani express openness to nuclear energy, which currently provides half of New York’s carbon-free electricity.”
“With potential energy shortfalls projected to affect New York City as early as next year,” he wrote, “we must act decisively to bring more reliable, clean generation online.” The Laborers, like many unions, endorsed Cuomo in the primary, but haven’t endorsed anyone in the general election.
Morales, the UWUA Local 1-2 president, told me over email that Mamdani’s remark in favor of nuclear energy is “definitely a step in the right direction.” And yet Local 1-2 nonetheless endorsed Cuomo. That’s despite the fact that as governor, Cuomo was directly responsible for shutting down Indian Point, destroying hundreds of Local 1-2 members’ jobs.
Without the antinuclear baggage of his coalition, Mamdani could have pounced on Cuomo for having closed the plant — as Sliwa did at the debate and throughout his own campaign — in order to show solidarity with the union workers and to demonstrate a more responsible energy policy for New York City. In doing so he could have pinned the blame on his opponent for rising power prices and worsening air quality in his own district.
A 2023 public letter on South Bronx air pollution from various city environmental groups admits only obliquely, in the title of one of its charts, that Indian Point’s shutdown “expos[es] area residents to even more pollution.” Assemblyman Mamdani, like several other local elected officials, signed the letter, seemingly his only public engagement with Indian Point’s closure. But some of the nonprofit signatories actually championed the end of the plant, a situation that rules out a more explicitly recognized tradeoff between nuclear energy and air pollution.
If Mamdani wins the mayoral election, as polls indicate he is likely to do, he will take on the tremendous responsibility of governing a major world city. That city is one whose power grid is facing reliability concerns alongside costly maintenance and infrastructure needs, all on top of a popular push to electrify buildings and reduce air pollution. As mayor, he’d have limited levers to address these problems. But with the backing of the governor and the public power authority, he stands a chance. He should embrace Hochul’s public nuclear power plan, and with it nuclear’s potential to help advance New York City’s climate goals.
If he can buck the trend of the environmental left’s hostility to nuclear, he could demonstrate to New York City — and to democratic socialist supporters nationwide, who already view him as a likely successor to (notoriously antinuclear) Vermont Senator Bernie Sanders — that the left can think rationally about the energy system, its affordability, and the wide scope of the climate problem. That would truly be charting a new path.
Editor’s note: This author’s bio has been updated to clarify that he writes under a pen name.
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The former ExxonMobil CEO left his legacy both on the Earth and in the sky.
Lee Raymond, the former ExxonMobil chief executive who became one of the country’s most important and influential climate science deniers, died in Dallas on Saturday. His death was announced today.
Raymond would probably count as a world-historic figure even if viewed only through the lens of the fossil fuel business. As Exxon’s chief executive, he personally negotiated the company’s merger with Mobil, creating the modern oil and gas juggernaut ExxonMobil in 2000 — and uniting two major pieces of the old Standard Oil monopoly. He ran Exxon from 1993 to 1999, and then ExxonMobil until 2005, at a crucial period in the history of that company, turning it from a diversified conglomerate that sold office furniture, real estate, and uranium fuel into a streamlined and exorbitantly profitable oil and gas business. Even before taking over the company, he managed its response to the disastrous Exxon Valdez oil spill; he later oversaw a worker safety push that would be widely copied by the industry.
In a way, he transformed Exxon from a company that was itself a portfolio — that distinguished itself via managerial competence across business lines — into a ruthlessly focused oil and gas supermajor meant to sit inside other people’s portfolios and churn out cash. Under his leadership, ExxonMobil became the world’s most profitable publicly traded company; it later lost that title to Apple.
Yet even if Raymond had merely played a bit part in the history of oil and gas, he would remain essential to the modern ordeal of climate change. Today, people throw around the “climate change denier” label often enough that it has lost some of its charge. But Raymond was the genuine article, a true villain. It was Raymond who turned ExxonMobil into one of the world’s most important funders of falsehood and denial about fundamental climate science research.
Raymond, an engineer by training, straightforwardly rejected the mainstream scientific consensus that carbon dioxide emissions from fossil fuels cause climate change. Even though Exxon’s in-house climate research arm knew by the late 1970s that “there is no doubt” fossil fuels worsened the “potential problem of CO2 in the atmosphere,” Raymond did everything he could to elevate more industry-friendly perspectives. And he was willing to muddy the truth to win.
Under Raymond’s leadership, Exxon spent millions of dollars funding a shadowy network of think tanks and pseudo-scientific groups who published memos, briefings, and advertisements meant to cast doubt on climate change. As the journalist Steve Coll wrote in his book Private Empire,
Under Lee Raymond, ExxonMobil had persistently funded a public policy campaign in Washington and elsewhere that was transparently designed to raise public skepticism about the science that identified fossil fuels as a cause of global warming. ExxonMobil ran some aspects of its campaign clandestinely; that is, it did not initially disclose the full scope and purpose of contributions it made. […] What distinguished the corporation's activity during the late 1990s and the first Bush term was the way it crossed into disinformation.
In his capacity as CEO, Raymond made it clear that he personally rejected bedrock science. “Is the Earth really warming? Does burning fossil fuels cause global warming? And do we now have a reasonable scientific basis for predicting future temperature?,” he asked rhetorically during a 1997 meeting of the World Petroleum Congress in Beijing.
He answered all three questions in the negative, concluding, “Let’s agree there’s a lot we really don't know about how climate will change in the 21st century and beyond.” (In fact, we now know that even ExxonMobil’s primitive in-house climate models, then 20 years old, basically got global warming right.) He also claimed — we now know incorrectly — that any policy passed in the 1990s would be “very unlikely” to affect the future trajectory of mid-21st-century emissions declines.
The campaign worked. Exxon’s activism during this period, conducted sub and supra rosa, helped prevent the passage of major global and domestic climate policy in the 1990s; it also kept the United States from developing expertise in the solar, wind, and battery industries that other countries now dominate.
One of the ironies of this era is that much of modern climate science is derived from oil geology. You cannot grasp the all-important role that carbon plays in the Earth system — the way it has functioned as the thermostat for Earth’s climate over the long run — without a rich understanding of what the fossil record tells us about the Permian, Carboniferous, or the Upper Jurassic periods.
Take the Permian, for instance: When it began 299 million years ago, the Earth was relatively cool, with atmospheric CO2 levels somewhere around 200 to 400 parts per million. But soon enormous volcanoes ignited subterranean stores of fossil fuels, dumping thousands of gigatons of carbon into the atmosphere and initiating an era of rapid global warming and ocean acidification. When the Permian ended 252 million years ago in the largest mass extinction in Earth’s history — an annihilation that climate scientists call “the Great Dying” — atmospheric CO2 was closer to 2,500 parts per million.
When Lee Raymond was born in South Dakota in 1938, the atmosphere’s CO2 concentration sat at about 311 parts per million. When he died last week, it read 421 parts per million. Look at it this way, I suppose: Many people would feel captive to a change of that magnitude. But Raymond did something about it.
The Science Based Targets Initiative just released a major update to its signature rulebook for setting climate goals.
Companies have a new rulebook for what constitutes credible climate action. The Science Based Targets Initiative, an organization that seeks to align corporate sustainability plans with the goals of the Paris Agreement, published a major update to its signature Net Zero Standard on Thursday designed to help companies assess their progress on climate goals, not just set them.
The update marks a significant expansion of the standard, which previously defined what a good corporate emissions target looked like, but did not say much about how to achieve it. The new version sets requirements for what companies must do to prove they are advancing toward their benchmarks.
“The standard is moving from being focused on ambition only to really focused on implementation,” Alberto Carrillo Pineda, the SBTi’s co-founder and chief technical officer, told me.
This accompanies a broader rhetorical shift in the standard, which asks companies to demonstrate progress on a “best-efforts basis” rather than judging them solely on absolute emissions reductions. In the foreword to the standard, Chair Francesco Starace says that the SBTi made “an explicit choice to recognize that companies do not control everything, and that pretending otherwise does not serve anyone.”
That ethos permeates the revisions and additions to the standard. Here’s a breakdown of some of the biggest changes.
Version 2 of the standard introduces a new “implementation hierarchy.” Companies must first do everything in their power to reduce emissions directly. Once they have exhausted those options, they can then pursue indirect actions such as buying renewable energy certificates or certificates for low-carbon cement.
This isn’t just a guideline. It’s a reporting requirement. Companies are asked to “document and demonstrate” all of the actions they have assessed and implemented to reduce their emissions directly, as well as to define the constraints to pursuing additional reductions. They also have to describe their indirect actions and explain how they “complement, and do not substitute for” direct reductions.
The updated standard differentiates between larger and smaller companies, and those based in higher-income and lower-income countries, recognizing that the former in both cases will have an easier time decarbonizing than the latter.
Larger companies in higher-income countries, referred to as “category A companies” are required to set near-term, five-year targets for all emissions related to their businesses, whether they fall under scope 1, 2 or 3. All others are required to set targets only for scope 1 and 2. Category A companies are also required to verify much of their reporting to the SBTi with a third party, while this is optional for other companies.
The updated standard clarifies that in order for renewable energy certificates to count toward a company’s scope 2 target, they must be “deliverable,” or purchased from a clean energy source within the same grid region as the company. That means a company with offices or factories in Idaho can’t buy certificates from a solar farm in Florida. (The standard does seem to offer some wiggle room on that rule to companies with many locations.)
An earlier draft of the new standard released last year would have required that companies set targets for purchasing hourly-matched, deliverable clean electricity. That would mean looking at their energy consumption for every hour they operate and setting a goal to match it with an equivalent amount of locally produced clean power for a certain percentage of hours.
Much to the disappointment of proponents of this strategy, however, that’s not in the final standard. Companies can set scope 2 targets on an annual matching basis, meaning they can effectively claim they consumed solar power at night and will not have to do the hard work of trying to clean up the harder-to-decarbonize hours of the day.
The standard does, however, require those larger companies in category A to at least report the percentage of their energy use that they have matched with clean power on an hourly basis. This reporting rule aligns with a proposal by the Greenhouse Gas Protocol, a separate corporate standard-setter focused on emissions accounting. The SBTi also aims to encourage companies to make progress on hourly-matched clean power by creating a new dashboard showing which companies have exceeded certain benchmarks — 50% until 2030, 75% until 2035, and 90% from that year onward.
Previously, regular old carbon credits like the kind that pay a Brazilian landowner not to cut down trees or fund a methane capture system at a landfill had no place in the SBTi’s net-zero standard. Also, while the “net-zero” in the name implied that companies should eventually begin investing in carbon removal credits to make up for any residual emissions, the earlier version did not say when they should start doing that.
Now, the SBTi says it will require category A companies to begin covering some of their ongoing emissions with carbon removal beginning in 2035. Because companies are only required to set targets in five year increments, they won’t have to report on those efforts for several years. But the carbon removal industry will require investment now to be able to meet demand in 2035, so companies will likely need to begin buying credits today in order to meet that deadline.
Prior to 2035, companies will be able to earn kudos for purchasing carbon avoidance and removal credits by participating in something the SBTi is calling the “ongoing emissions responsibility program.” The program has three tiers that will recognize companies that are contributing to a lower, medium, and high degrees of carbon mitigation, ranked either by tallying dollars spent or tons of carbon abated. Companies will still not be allowed to count these credits when measuring progress toward their targets, however.
One question hanging over the news is whether the SBTi’s definition of a “science based target” is still appropriate. The organization requires companies to calibrate their targets to be consistent with limiting warming to 1.5 degrees Celsius above pre-industrial levels by the end of the century. But many scientists believe the world has already warmed more than 1.5 degrees. In theory, cooling the planet back down to this level by 2100 is still possible with a huge amount of carbon removal, but it appears exceedingly unlikely.
“Of course, there is healthy scientific debate about what is the most likely temperature outcome, so that's something that we are aware of,” Pineda said when I asked about this. “But we maintain the focus to catalyze transformation consistent with achieving net-zero emissions by mid-century.”
Pineda may have been downplaying how much the SBTi has considered this. After our call, I did a search for “1.5°” in the new version of the standard and the old one. The temperature target appeared 59 times in the old document, but just once in the new one, and only in the executive summary, where it was used to describe the SBTi’s larger mission as an organization. Nevertheless, the standard continues to emphasize a long-term goal of net-zero emissions by 2050, and there is no indication that the underlying modeled decarbonization pathways that the SBTi uses to validate targets are going to change.
SpaceX and Tesla have produced executives and founders across the clean energy world. Here’s what they had to say about working for their former boss.
While SpaceX founder and Tesla CEO Elon Musk is often lauded for turning technology like reusable rockets and American-made electric vehicles into thriving businesses in a way long thought impossible, or at least improbable, he has also more quietly done something about as unlikely: get investors excited about capital-intensive hard tech startups.
For most of the time Musk was sleeping on the floor of Tesla’s factory to oversee Model 3 assembly and his rockets were riding across the country on the back of flatbed trucks, the venture capitalists that fund the next generation of technology companies were largely enamored with software businesses, which required little capital to start up and could scale quickly with accelerating profitability.
Today, thanks in no small part to Musk, hard tech companies are able to raise hundreds of millions of dollars within a few years of being starting up, with top-flight venture capital firms such as Andreessen Horowitz building whole funds devoted to the broad sector.
That investor interest has helped nurture a series of startups founded and led by former SpaceX and Tesla employees. These types of businesses don’t have the forgiving characteristics of software companies; instead, they’re often incredibly capital intensive, and require years of design and manufacturing before profits show up. Climate tech and energy companies almost inevitably fall in this category, often working on trying to turn technology that may mostly exist in a lab with nascent markets and high barriers to scale into something that can generate real returns for investors.
To mark the occasion of SpaceX’s initial public offering, Heatmap decided to survey the landscape of SpaceX and Tesla alumni now cutting their own swath through the climate tech marketplace. We identified 40 founders and executives, who all together spent a total of 252 years working for Musk. They’ve since moved on to companies in 9 different industries, from Musk-adjacent categories such as batteries and electric vehicles to carbon removal and grid tech. Cumulatively they’ve raised at least $27 billion, according to the data available in Crunchbase. (Since we finalized this list, one more Musk alum-founded company has emerged from stealth. Welcome to the world, Ambrosia Energy.)
Heatmap asked these founders and executives by email what they learned from their experiences working at Musk-led companies, and we heard back from more than a dozen of them. The vast majority of those told us it was no accident that they’d ended up where they have after working for Musk.
“While working at Tesla, I was surrounded by people who were there for the hard stuff and thrived on it,” Mateo Jaramillo, co-founder and CEO of the long-duration battery company Form Energy and a former Tesla Energy vice president, told us. “It's not just that they tolerated it — that was the stuff they lived for. There are moments in a company's arc when that kind of mentality is required, and at Tesla in those days it was like walking through a crucible every single day, with truly no idea how things were going to resolve. And yet you keep going and figure it out along the way.”
Musk himself has been a formidable digester of investor capital, including from Founders Fund, the venture capital firm founded by his former PayPal colleague Peter Thiel, which invested in SpaceX before its first successful launch.
Founders Fund has since become an investor in several Musk-alumni-founded companies, including the fuel enrichment startup General Matter, the geothermal company Endurance Energy, and the hydrogen company Hgen.
Another frequent investor, Andreessen Horowitz, had previously been the great promoter of software businesses. Its cofounders Marc Andreessen and Ben Horowitz wrote the seminal essay “Why Software Is Eating The World,” which became a manifesto for its investments in businesses like Facebook (now Meta) and Twitter (now X). Since then, a16z, as it’s known, has expanded its remit and invested in several Musk-alumni founded companies, including the power electronics company Heron Power, the mining services company Mariana Minerals, electric boat company Arc, and home battery company Base Power.
These investments are not just simply giving money to Tesla and SpaceX employees to do the same things they did in their previous jobs. Many of the companies we looked at were founded by SpaceX alumni and have nothing to do with space, rockets, or satellites.
Mike Schroepfer, former Meta chief technical officer and founder of hard tech VC firm Gigascale Capital, which has invested in Heron and Form, as well as clean power and carbon removal company Arbor and nuclear microreactor company Radiant, told us that when founders have a Musk company on their resume, it tells him “they’ve been trained to build in the physical world, which is rarer than people think.”
And what’s rare can be profitable.
“Hardware is capital-intensive for the best possible reason” Schroepfer said. “You’re building the foundations the world runs on, and those things have to work reliably and get cheaper as they scale. The dollar figure tells you investors are starting to take the physical world seriously again.”
Philip Schröder, who left the European battery startup Sonnen to run Tesla’s Germany and Austria business, told us that after he rejoined his former company, the European battery startup, they were able to raise “one of the largest cleantech financing rounds in Europe.”
It’s not just raising money where a SpaceX or Tesla pedigree helps. Many former employees of the two companies left with enough of a financial cushion to take a risk on something new. When asked how being part of SpaceX helped him found his own company, John Bucknell, who worked on the Raptor rocket engine at SpaceX, said that having worked for Musk gave him the “financial freedom” necessary to start a company — in his case Virtus Solis, which is developing solar power in space.
But it also doesn’t hurt when raising money to put a SpaceX or Tesla logo on a slide deck, considering the size of returns they’ve generated for their backers.
Former Tesla employees have started and run some of the buzziest and best funded battery, transportation, and electrical infrastructure companies in the world. These include Lucid Motors, led until recently by former Tesla VP of vehicle engineering Peter Rawlinson, battery recycling company Redwood Materials, founded by former Tesla chief technical officer J.B. Straubel, and Heron Power, founded by Drew Baglino, who worked at Tesla from 2006 to 2024, ending his career there leading its powertrain and energy divisions.
When asked how their current work was connected to their past work for Musk or what they had learned, the founders and executives we surveyed — especially the SpaceX alumni — focused more on management and engineering principles than anything specific to energy or transportation.
“You can get way more done in a day and can move way faster than you think,” Justin Lopas, the co-founder of the home battery company Base Power, and a former manufacturing engineer at SpaceX, told us of what he’d learned from Musk.
Musk’s legendary short deadlines (which he says he only expects to hit about half the time) came up frequently among the group. Describing his time at Tesla, Arch Rao, the founder and chief executive of the smart electric panel company Span and a former head of products at Tesla Energy, told us, “The milestones to hit were incredibly audacious, but with the right group of people, possible. This has been a key model for how Span has scaled from the very early days to today.”
Jonathan Criss, the co-founder and chief executive of the desalination company Vital Lyfe, who worked at SpaceX for over a decade on both the Dragon spacecraft and the satellite communications service Starlink, told us that the rocket company had a unique “building for rate” philosophy, where engineers work backwards from a specific production goal, as opposed to first designing a product and then figuring out how to manufacture it as cheaply as possible. “That capability lets us design and manufacture highly reliable products at a fraction of the cost of most of the industry,” Criss said.
Investors, too, recognize SpaceX and Tesla alumni’s ability to work fast. Schroepfer, of Gigascale Capital, told us that speed sets these founders apart. “They know physical products can take years to get from first unit to cost-competitive scale. Even with a long timeline, they move with urgency,” he said. “They get how iteration and cost-down curves only work if you move fast, learn fast, and scale deliberately.”
Several founders also talked about learning to challenge assumptions. “At Tesla, there was a strong culture of questioning established ways of doing things,” Enric Asuncion, the co-founder and CEO of the EV charging company Wallbox who worked as a program manager for vehicle charging at Tesla, told us. Austin Spiegel, the co-founder and CEO of the infrastructure management software company Sift and a former software engineer at SpaceX, said that his former employer never accepted that something was good enough just because it existed. “Instead of buying off-the-shelf software, they asked, what would this look like if we designed it for a company that's going to launch and land rockets for the first time? That stuck with me.”
A former product engineer for Tesla’s Powerwall battery business, Cole Ashman, gave another example. He described how, for years, enabling a home to island from the power grid during a blackout required a labor-intensive, expensive electrical job. Tesla engineered a backup switch that was quicker and easier to install, but it required utility cooperation. “Conventional wisdom said it would never get broad approval,” Ashman, who founded the battery startup Pila, told us. “Tesla did the unglamorous work of bringing utilities along and moving the codes and standards — and pulled the whole industry forward.”
The other management concept that came up frequently was “ownership,” the idea of devolving responsibility down to engineers who were directly responsible for the projects they were working on. Working at SpaceX “taught me how to run a challenging hardware development program: how to choose and organize engineers around a tough unsolved problem, and give each of them real ownership from concept to mission success,” Colin Ho, founder and chief technology officer at the electrolyzer company Hgen, told us.
Frank Tybor, the chief technology officer at Infravision, the drone grid maintenance company and a former launch engineer at SpaceX, told us that “one of the things that made SpaceX special was the concentration of exceptionally talented people who were willing to take ownership of difficult problems and work across traditional organizational boundaries to solve them.”
Andreessen has endorsed the description of Musk-run companies and SpaceX specifically as a “zone of shocking competence” that attracts the best engineers, which its alumni founders have tried to recreate. Justin Cohen, the founder and CEO of Maritime Fusion who did stints at both Tesla and SpaceX, told us the talent network was “analogous to SEAL Team 6 of engineering; there is no better on earth.”
Several mentioned the Musk alumni network as a recruitment resource for their own businesses. “Tesla has cultivated a highly passionate ecosystem of engineers and tech developers,” Rao, the Span founder, told us. “My experience at Tesla helped me quickly identify what a skillful talent pool looks like and expect rapid and ambitious development from them.”
Brad Hartwig, a former SpaceX manufacturing engineer and founder and chief executive of Arbor Energy told us that “several early Arbor employees came from SpaceX, and that shared experience helped us build a world-class engineering team quickly. Many of us have worked on complex, high-stakes technology; we’ve already proven that we can execute in demanding environments, which helps when building a hard-tech company from scratch.”
When asked to name specific, non-Musk employees that influenced them, one name came up more than another: J.B. Straubel, the former Tesla chief technology officer and founder of Redwood Materials.
“Straubel is easily one of the smartest yet incredibly humble engineers and leaders I’ve had the opportunity to work with,” Rao told us.
Straubel, along with Heron Power’s Drew Baglino, “were both influential in how they helped solve complex problems within the company while dealing with constant pressure on cash & company survival,” Kunal Girotra, former Tesla Energy chief and founder of the battery company Lunar Energy, told us.
Jaramillo, the Form Energy founder, also singled out Straubel and Baglino, saying, “They’re very different people from each other, but both technically world class, with incredibly high standards. They drove that mindset into their teams from an engineering perspective — to never compromise on those standards.” About Straubel specifically, Jaramillo said that he had an “amazingly calibrated impatience, to know precisely when enough study is done, to just push start and get going in the physical world, and accept that you're going to learn things along the way.”
While Musk and his legions of former employees have helped turn hard tech and climate tech into an investible sector for venture capitalists, the amount of money the companies we’ve looked at have raised — about $30 billion — pales in comparison to the hottest sector, artificial intelligence. Even SpaceX, the signature hard tech company of its era, is itself running a massive “neo-cloud” business, renting out data center capacity to companies like Anthropic and Google to the tune of around $2 billion a month.
That being said, Tesla and SpaceX, which together are worth around $3 trillion, will continue to produce engineers and managers with sizable net worths and resumes uniquely looked favorably on by investors.
More than 4,000 current and former SpaceX employees are expected to become instant millionaires after the IPO, with 400 potentially getting at least $100 million, generating a wave of wealth that can give potential founders the cushion necessary to found their own company — or the capital necessary to become investors themselves.
“I think this is the emergence of a hardware mafia,” Schroepfer told us. “The PayPal mafia helped define an era of software and internet companies. This group will probably define an era where the center of gravity moves back toward atoms: energy, industry, mobility, infrastructure, manufacturing, and the physical systems that modern life depends on.”
Editor’s note: This story has been updated to correct the description of Arbor Energy.