You’re out of free articles.
Log in
To continue reading, log in to your account.
Create a Free Account
To unlock more free articles, please create a free account.
Sign In or Create an Account.
By continuing, you agree to the Terms of Service and acknowledge our Privacy Policy
Welcome to Heatmap
Thank you for registering with Heatmap. Climate change is one of the greatest challenges of our lives, a force reshaping our economy, our politics, and our culture. We hope to be your trusted, friendly, and insightful guide to that transformation. Please enjoy your free articles. You can check your profile here .
subscribe to get Unlimited access
Offer for a Heatmap News Unlimited Access subscription; please note that your subscription will renew automatically unless you cancel prior to renewal. Cancellation takes effect at the end of your current billing period. We will let you know in advance of any price changes. Taxes may apply. Offer terms are subject to change.
Subscribe to get unlimited Access
Hey, you are out of free articles but you are only a few clicks away from full access. Subscribe below and take advantage of our introductory offer.
subscribe to get Unlimited access
Offer for a Heatmap News Unlimited Access subscription; please note that your subscription will renew automatically unless you cancel prior to renewal. Cancellation takes effect at the end of your current billing period. We will let you know in advance of any price changes. Taxes may apply. Offer terms are subject to change.
Create Your Account
Please Enter Your Password
Forgot your password?
Please enter the email address you use for your account so we can send you a link to reset your password:
Disasters are already spurring Americans to renovate their homes.

Home remodeling is something of an American subculture. Shows like Property Brothers, Fixer Upper, and Flip or Flop have sold us on the glamour, the righteousness, even, of taking hammers and drills and panels of drywall to old houses and making them appealing to Brooklynites with babies, replete with stainless steel and minimalist tiling. All that work doesn’t come cheap: The remodeling industry, as of 2021, is a $500 billion juggernaut.
But remodeling is good for more than just aesthetics: It’s also, increasingly, becoming an essential tool for living with the effects of climate change.
According to a new study from Harvard’s Joint Center for Housing Studies (JCHS), Americans are spending more money on repairing houses that were damaged by disasters — between $20 and $25 billion in 2020 and 2021, up from an average of $17 billion in the 2010s and $12 billion in the 2000s. These huge sums alone indicate the increasing toll disasters are taking on Americans; both 2020 and 2021 saw at least 20 so-called “billion-dollar disasters,” or single disasters that caused damages north of a billion dollars each.
“Historically, people focused on improving their homes,” said Carlos Martín, project director of the Remodeling Futures program at JCHS. Take, for example, the stainless steel and crisp tiling: They’re primarily aesthetic improvements that might bring some side benefits, like energy-efficiency. “What we're seeing now is that it's almost an even balance [between upkeep and improvements],” Martín said. “More people are doing repairs just to keep up their homes.”
In part, this is just because American housing stock is the oldest it’s ever been: As of 2021, the median age of owner-occupied homes in the country is 41 years old, and they’re starting to show their age. As extreme weather becomes more common, however, those repairs will be even more pressing; a well-maintained home will be better insulated against the forces of nature, whether they be headline-grabbing hurricanes and wildfires or the more quotidian snow, hail, or wind that is responsible for nearly half of the money spent on repairs in 2020 and 2021.
The problem (surprise!) is money. Remodeling is expensive, and while policies like the Inflation Reduction Act will help homeowners pay for climate-mitigation upgrades like heat pumps that will reduce household emissions, there’s no policy analogue for disaster-mitigating upgrades. Homeowners usually only receive assistance after a disaster hits, in the form of insurance payouts.
“Unfortunately, our climate policy is disaster policy in this country,” Martín said.
American housing is already deeply inequitable, and the cost of preparing for — or repairing after — a disaster only deepens that inequity. Households of color make up only 27 percent of all the homeowners in the country, and they tend to be less able to pay for renovations: according to the report, white homeowners have nearly three times as much median wealth as Black homeowners and nearly double the wealth of Hispanic homeowners.
These disparities are dominoes: Lower-income homeowners tend to only be able to purchase homes that are already in a less-than-ideal state, which drives up the cost of repairs. This leaves them more vulnerable to damage from extreme weather, which can send repair costs even higher.
The result is that, more often than not, homeowners just wait and see if a disaster hits — and if it does, to rely on insurance payments to rebuild. This can sometimes mean their homes are repaired to a higher standard, using new materials that weren’t around before or, if they were entirely destroyed in a disaster, built to new codes that may include better hardening against storms.
This is, of course, not a solution at all, for the simple fact that it forces people to wait until their home is destroyed to have a chance at ... preventing their home from being destroyed. And, because insurance companies are insurance companies, most homeowners — particularly if they’re not rich and lawyered up — have to wait interminably long to have their claims paid out. Houstonians, for example, are still rebuilding after the damage caused to their city by Hurricane Harvey in 2017.
Some privately-administered incentives for disaster preparedness do exist, usually in the form of insurance companies offering lowered premiums for making changes such as installing storm shutters or raising houses in hurricane-prone areas. But those upgrades still come with large upfront costs, and the programs aren’t available everywhere.
People also tend to underestimate their personal risk, which means they undervalue the benefits of mitigating that risk. They might be willing to invest in electrification and energy-efficiency upgrades, such as a heat pump, new refrigerator, or an electric vehicle, because those products have a dual use: They lower the climate impact of a household while also providing an increased level of comfort for its inhabitants. Disaster-proofing, however, only proves its worth when disasters hit. Flood insurance is a classic example: Insurance companies see an uptick in flood insurance sign-ups in the immediate aftermath of floods hitting a region, but policyholders tend to drop their coverage if there are no floods for a few years.
As extreme weather becomes more common, this might be less of an issue. “If these events are more frequent, people will realize there‘s a benefit,” Martín said. “Just because then they don’t have to wait two or three years, or for their insurance to kick in. They’ll see the immediate benefit.”
That makes creating policies to fund preventative remodeling — an IRA for disaster-proofing, essentially — even more pressing; as the most recent IPCC report made clear, the world needs to both acknowledge and prepare for the effects of climate change while still trying to reduce emissions.
Martín also thinks the country is badly in need of a national conversation about property insurance akin to the health care shifts we saw a little over a decade ago with the implementation of Obamacare. One way to start is by establishing a framework that would incentivize insurance companies to help defray the costs of protecting homes; doing so now would inevitably reduce the downstream costs for government, insurance companies, and homeowners alike.
It would also provide a way to preserve the deep-rooted relationships people have with the places they call home. While it’s easy to just tell people to move away from disaster-prone areas, that does little to acknowledge the realities of how people live — or the fact that climate change is going to affect every place on the planet in different ways, and some of the best adaptation measures will be found within the places we live and work.
“There are lots of other climate effects,” Martín said. “Flooding from sea level rise or hurricanes is only one effect. You can't build a seawall for heat.”
Log in
To continue reading, log in to your account.
Create a Free Account
To unlock more free articles, please create a free account.
There has been no new nuclear construction in the U.S. since Vogtle, but the workers are still plenty busy.
The Trump administration wants to have 10 new large nuclear reactors under construction by 2030 — an ambitious goal under any circumstances. It looks downright zany, though, when you consider that the workforce that should be driving steel into the ground, pouring concrete, and laying down wires for nuclear plants is instead building and linking up data centers.
This isn’t how it was supposed to be. Thousands of people, from construction laborers to pipefitters to electricians, worked on the two new reactors at the Plant Vogtle in Georgia, which were intended to be the start of a sequence of projects, erecting new Westinghouse AP1000 reactors across Georgia and South Carolina. Instead, years of delays and cost overruns resulted in two long-delayed reactors 35 miles southeast of Augusta, Georgia — and nothing else.
“We had challenges as we were building a new supply chain for a new technology and then workforce,” John Williams, an executive at Southern Nuclear Operating Company, which owns over 45% of Plant Vogtle, said in a webinar hosted by the environmental group Resources for the Future in October.
“It had been 30 years since we had built a new nuclear plant from scratch in the United States. Our workforce didn’t have that muscle memory that they have in other parts of the world, where they have been building on a more regular frequency.”
That workforce “hasn’t been building nuclear plants” since heavy construction stopped at Vogtle in 2023, he noted — but they have been busy “building data centers and car manufacturing in Georgia.”
Williams said that it would take another “six to 10” AP1000 projects for costs to come down far enough to make nuclear construction routine. “If we were currently building the next AP1000s, we would be farther down that road,” he said. “But we’ve stopped again.”
J.R. Richardson, business manager and financial secretary of the International Brotherhood of Electric Workers Local 1579, based in Augusta, Georgia, told me his union “had 2,000 electricians on that job,” referring to Vogtle. “So now we have a skill set with electricians that did that project. If you wait 20 or 30 years, that skill set is not going to be there anymore.”
Richardson pointed to the potential revitalization of the failed V.C. Summer nuclear project in South Carolina, saying that his union had already been reached out to about it starting up again. Until then, he said, he had 350 electricians working on a Meta data center project between Augusta and Atlanta.
“They’re all basically the same,” he told me of the data center projects. “They’re like cookie cutter homes, but it’s on a bigger scale.”
To be clear, though the segue from nuclear construction to data center construction may hold back the nuclear industry, it has been great for workers, especially unionized electrical and construction workers.
“If an IBEW electrician says they're going hungry, something’s wrong with them,” Richardson said.
Meta’s Northwest Louisiana data center project will require 700 or 800 electricians sitewide, Richardson told me. He estimated that of the IBEW’s 875,000 members, about a tenth were working on data centers, and about 30% of his local were on a single data center job.
When I asked him whether that workforce could be reassembled for future nuclear plants, he said that the “majority” of the workforce likes working on nuclear projects, even if they’re currently doing data center work. “A lot of IBEW electricians look at the longevity of the job,” Richardson told me — and nuclear plants famously take a long, long time to build.
America isn’t building any new nuclear power plants right now (though it will soon if Rick Perry gets his way), but the question of how to balance a workforce between energy construction and data center projects is a pressing one across the country.
It’s not just nuclear developers that have to think about data centers when it comes to recruiting workers — it’s renewables developers, as well.
“We don’t see people leaving the workforce,” said Adam Sokolski, director of regulatory and economic affairs at EDF Renewables North America. “We do see some competition.”
He pointed specifically to Ohio, where he said, “You have a strong concentration of solar happening at the same time as a strong concentration of data center work and manufacturing expansion. There’s something in the water there.”
Sokolski told me that for EDF’s renewable projects, in order to secure workers, he and the company have to “communicate real early where we know we’re going to do a project and start talking to labor in those areas. We’re trying to give them a market signal as a way to say, We’re going to be here in two years.”
Solar and data center projects have lots of overlapping personnel needs, Sokolski said. There are operating engineers “working excavators and bulldozers and graders” or pounding posts into place. And then, of course, there are electricians, who Sokolski said were “a big, big piece of the puzzle — everything from picking up the solar panel off from the pallet to installing it on the racking system, wiring it together to the substations, the inverters to the communication systems, ultimately up to the high voltage step-up transformers and onto the grid.”
On the other hand, explained Kevin Pranis, marketing manager of the Great Lakes regional organizing committee of the Laborers’ International Union of North America, a data center is like a “fancy, very nice warehouse.” This means that when a data center project starts up, “you basically have pretty much all building trades” working on it. “You’ve got site and civil work, and you’re doing a big concrete foundation, and then you’re erecting iron and putting a building around it.”
Data centers also have more mechanical systems than the average building, “so you have more electricians and more plumbers and pipefitters” on site, as well.
Individual projects may face competition for workers, but Pranis framed the larger issue differently: Renewable energy projects are often built to support data centers. “If we get a data center, that means we probably also get a wind or solar project, and batteries,” he said.
While the data center boom is putting upward pressure on labor demand, Pranis told me that in some parts of the country, like the Upper Midwest, it’s helping to compensate for a slump in commercial real estate, which is one of the bread and butter industries for his construction union.
Data centers, Pranis said, aren’t the best projects for his members to work on. They really like doing manufacturing work. But, he added, it’s “a nice large load and it’s a nice big building, and there’s some number of good jobs.”
A conversation with Dustin Mulvaney of San Jose State University
This week’s conversation is a follow up with Dustin Mulvaney, a professor of environmental studies at San Jose State University. As you may recall we spoke with Mulvaney in the immediate aftermath of the Moss Landing battery fire disaster, which occurred near his university’s campus. Mulvaney told us the blaze created a true-blue PR crisis for the energy storage industry in California and predicted it would cause a wave of local moratoria on development. Eight months after our conversation, it’s clear as day how right he was. So I wanted to check back in with him to see how the state’s development landscape looks now and what the future may hold with the Moss Landing dust settled.
Help my readers get a state of play – where are we now in terms of the post-Moss Landing resistance landscape?
A couple things are going on. Monterey Bay is surrounded by Monterey County and Santa Cruz County and both are considering ordinances around battery storage. That’s different than a ban – important. You can have an ordinance that helps facilitate storage. Some people here are very focused on climate change issues and the grid, because here in Santa Cruz County we’re at a terminal point where there really is no renewable energy, so we have to have battery storage. And like, in Santa Cruz County the ordinance would be for unincorporated areas – I’m not sure how materially that would impact things. There’s one storage project in Watsonville near Moss Landing, and the ordinance wouldn’t even impact that. Even in Monterey County, the idea is to issue a moratorium and again, that’s in unincorporated areas, too.
It’s important to say how important battery storage is going to be for the coastal areas. That’s where you see the opposition, but all of our renewables are trapped in southern California and we have a bottleneck that moves power up and down the state. If California doesn’t get offshore wind or wind from Wyoming into the northern part of the state, we’re relying on batteries to get that part of the grid decarbonized.
In the areas of California where batteries are being opposed, who is supporting them and fighting against the protests? I mean, aside from the developers and an occasional climate activist.
The state has been strongly supporting the industry. Lawmakers in the state have been really behind energy storage and keeping things headed in that direction of more deployment. Other than that, I think you’re right to point out there’s not local advocates saying, “We need more battery storage.” It tends to come from Sacramento. I’m not sure you’d see local folks in energy siting usually, but I think it’s also because we are still actually deploying battery storage in some areas of the state. If we were having even more trouble, maybe we’d have more advocacy for development in response.
Has the Moss Landing incident impacted renewable energy development in California? I’ve seen some references to fears about that incident crop up in fights over solar in Imperial County, for example, which I know has been coveted for development.
Everywhere there’s batteries, people are pointing at Moss Landing and asking how people will deal with fires. I don’t know how powerful the arguments are in California, but I see it in almost every single renewable project that has a battery.
Okay, then what do you think the next phase of this is? Are we just going to be trapped in a battery fire fear cycle, or do you think this backlash will evolve?
We’re starting to see it play out here with the state opt-in process where developers can seek state approval to build without local approval. As this situation after Moss Landing has played out, more battery developers have wound up in the opt-in process. So what we’ll see is more battery developers try to get permission from the state as opposed to local officials.
There are some trade-offs with that. But there are benefits in having more resources to help make the decisions. The state will have more expertise in emergency response, for example, whereas every local jurisdiction has to educate themselves. But no matter what I think they’ll be pursuing the opt-in process – there’s nothing local governments can really do to stop them with that.
Part of what we’re seeing though is, you have to have a community benefit agreement in place for the project to advance under the California Environmental Quality Act. The state has been pretty strict about that, and that’s the one thing local folks could still do – influence whether a developer can get a community benefits agreement with representatives on the ground. That’s the one strategy local folks who want to push back on a battery could use, block those agreements. Other than that, I think some counties here in California may not have much resistance. They need the revenue and see these as economic opportunities.
I can’t help but hear optimism in your tone of voice here. It seems like in spite of the disaster, development is still moving forward. Do you think California is doing a better or worse job than other states at deploying battery storage and handling the trade offs?
Oh, better. I think the opt-in process looks like a nice balance between taking local authority away over things and the better decision-making that can be brought in. The state creating that program is one way to help encourage renewables and avoid a backlash, honestly, while staying on track with its decarbonization goals.
The week’s most important fights around renewable energy.
1. Nantucket, Massachusetts – A federal court for the first time has granted the Trump administration legal permission to rescind permits given to renewable energy projects.
2. Harvey County, Kansas – The sleeper election result of 2025 happened in the town of Halstead, Kansas, where voters backed a moratorium on battery storage.
3. Cheboygan County, Michigan – A group of landowners is waging a new legal challenge against Michigan’s permitting primacy law, which gives renewables developers a shot at circumventing local restrictions.
4. Klamath County, Oregon – It’s not all bad news today, as this rural Oregon county blessed a very large solar project with permits.
5. Muscatine County, Iowa – To quote DJ Khaled, another one: This county is also advancing a solar farm, eliding a handful of upset neighbors.