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With net metering out of favor, the options for homeowners have gotten more complicated.
The early adopters of DIY solar had to pay a premium to put panels on their rooftops, sure — but at least they had a simple way to recoup that investment. Every kilowatt of self-generated sun power was one they didn’t have to buy from the power company. And for houses with big solar setups, so big they could satisfy their own needs and then some, selling their excess electricity back onto the grid could even be lucrative.
This strategy, called net metering, turned lots of homeowners and businesses into little power plants. These days, though, utilities are pushing back. New rules and laws in states such as Indiana, North Carolina, and even sun-drenched Arizona and California have throttled back on how much they’ll pay individual solar generators. Some mandated a lower price be paid to homeowners, making it less worthwhile to get a large home solar setup in the first place.
That presents a dilemma for homeowners generating more solar power than they can use: Where does it all go? The answer, it turns out, is more complicated than simply selling excess kilowatts back to the power company.
Arguments against the old-school way of net metering, where people essentially earn back the full price of energy they sell, lean on economic fairness. People who don’t pay for electricity or even make money back via their solar panels don’t pay for the grid maintenance that’s built into the price of electricity, and therefore pass it on to everyone else (although the size of this effect is in dispute). There’s also a design question: Grid systems were built to direct electricity from the power company to homeowners. When energy starts to flow in both directions, things can get unstable.
Whether rooftop solar is even good for the climate, actually, remains a confounding question. The counter-argument, as expounded by Jesse Jenkins on a recent episode of Heatmap’s Shift Key podcast, is that rooftop solar replaces utility-scale solar capacity that could’ve been built at lower cost, thus slowing down the clean energy transition.
Nevertheless, homes are installing solar, and their excess energy has to go somewhere, lest those kilowatt-hours be wasted. But if not onto the grid, then where? That’s the question I asked Steven Low, a professor and clean energy expert at the California Institute of Technology. (Disclosure: My full time job is as a communications editor at Caltech.)
“If you have significant feedback from [photovoltaic solar panels] to the grid then you may trigger protections, and that will screw up the operation of the grid,” he said. If only a few homes have solar, “that is probably not a big issue. But if you have more and more such PVs generating power that will affect the grid, then this will be a problem.”
For now at least, the best solution can be summed up in a single word: batteries. Low and his colleagues are collaborating with the power department in Pasadena, California to test batteries that can store and release excess power automatically to stop voltage from becoming unstable. In Hawaii, which has a high percentage of households with solar, Hawaiian Electric has a program to pay customers who put in a home battery system alongside their solar setup. The logic is twofold: First, a stash of backup power makes homes more resilient in case of a blackout, and storing solar power in a big battery is climate-friendlier than firing up a diesel generator. Second, from the utilities’ point of view, more storage means less uncertainty on the grid.
A problem, of course, is that batteries aren’t cheap — and they’re in high demand. “The battery at this point, especially since EV is taking off, is still usually much more valuable for transportation than for electricity service,” Low told me. Home batteries don’t need to be as big because appliances don’t use as much energy as a car flying down the freeway. Tesla’s powerwall has a capacity of 13.5 kWh, for example, less than a quarter as much as the battery in a standard-range Tesla Model Y. Multiple batteries can be stacked in a group, but the cost adds up quickly. Low speculated that perhaps used EV batteries will find a second life as home backup batteries once their capacity falls so far that they’re no longer useful for road trips.
Helpfully, a grid-connected home battery can move energy in multiple ways. A solar home could stash extra clean energy during the day to use in the dark of night. People who live under a virtual power plant can engage in “energy arbitrage” — the buy low, sell high practice of storing energy when it’s cheap and selling it back onto the grid when it’s expensive. (Technically, you don’t even need the solar panels to do this, although the emissions reduction would be far smaller.)
The idea of electricity moving in every direction — not just from the electric company to you — leads to the promise of the microgrid, the energy-sharing gold standard where neighbors can share power. The school district in Santa Barbara, California, for example, is developing a solar-powered microgrid to reinforce the resilience of an area that’s particularly vulnerable to earthquakes and other grid disruptions. If the grid goes down, a neighborhood, company, or organization with a microgrid that can “island” itself is able to keep the lights, on as homes and businesses that can make or store extra energy sell it to their neighbors.
Before any of that can happen, though, “there needs to be some incentive structure for me to provide power to my neighbor, also using the grid that belongs to the utility,” Low said. That last part is the trickiest. It’s not just the technical and financial infrastructure needed to share electricity across the cul-de-sac. The utility must agree to let energy flows in this way over infrastructure that it owns. And somebody has to oversee such a complex energy web.
“Let's say you have a lot of households and businesses install PV,” Low said. “They have their storage, and they want arbitrage because they can be profitable selling waste.” But you also want to make sure people are maximizing their own storage for stability’s sake. “Who's going to do that coordination? A natural way is for utilities to do that, but then that will require the utility to either control or at least communicate with each household,” which would in turn require complex data-sharing infrastructure.
As Tim Hale of Scaled Microgrids told me, it’s not easy for people to decide whether all that trouble is worthwhile because there’s no simple way to put a price tag on making a company or a community more resilient against power disruptions.
“It's a very complex thought exercise for people to go through,” he said “Generally speaking, there are companies and entities and people that value resilience and there are people that don't. Right? And the people who value resilience are the people that build microgrids.”
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On Mayorkas’ warning, damage at the Palisades plant, and violence against women
Current conditions: Typhoon Krathon has made landfall in Tawain with 100 mph wind gusts • Hurricane Kirk became a Category 3 storm but is not yet threatening land • The October heat wave baking California has yet to break.
The death toll from Hurricane Helene is nearing 200, which makes it the second-deadliest hurricane to hit the U.S. mainland since 2000. Hurricane Katrina in 2005 killed 1,392 people. President Biden and Vice President Harris toured affected areas yesterday, alongside Homeland Security Secretary Alejandro Mayorkas. “We have towns that have disappeared, literally,” Mayorkas said. “This is a multi-billion-dollar, multi-year recovery.” Search and rescue operations continue in remote Appalachia, with nearly 5,000 federal personnel on the ground. Mayorkas said the government had shipped “over 8.8 million meals, more than 7.4 million liters of water, 150 generators, and more than 225,000 tarps to the region.” He warned that FEMA “does not have the funds” to get through the rest of hurricane season.
Meanwhile, election officials are working to restore some level of secure voting access in hard-hit North Carolina, a battleground state in the upcoming presidential election. More than 190,000 people in the state had requested mail-in ballots before Helene, but the Postal Service has suspended operations, Gristreported. “The destruction is unprecedented and this level of uncertainty this close to Election Day is daunting,” Karen Brinson Bell, one of North Carolina’s top election officials, told reporters.
A new report from the Federal Reserve Bank of New York found more than 1 million homes (and their 4 million occupants) in New York, New Jersey, and Connecticut are at serious risk of flooding – ranking among the top 25% of riskiest properties in the country. This includes some inland areas like Buffalo and Newark. In Brooklyn, the number of households at risk exceeds those of anywhere else in the tri-state area. More than 400,000 of the buildings that are at risk of flooding in these states are located in low- or moderate-income communities. “This risk has grown in recent years and is projected to continue increasing,” the report said.
Federal Reserve Bank of New York
The Palisades nuclear plant in Michigan has damage in its steam generators that “far exceeded” estimates, according to the U.S. Nuclear Regulatory Commission. The plant shut down in 2022 but is aiming to re-open late next year. This week the Energy Department finalized over $2.8 billion in loans and grants to help restart the plant and generate emissions-free power. The NRC found that 1,163 steam generator tubes showed signs of stress corrosion cracking, which the plant’s owner, Holtec, said it wasn’t surprised given that the plant was not maintained during its shutdown. Holtec said the damage would be repaired and that they’re still on track to re-open next year. “Steam generators are sensitive components that require meticulous maintenance and are among the most expensive units at a nuclear power station,” according to Reuters.
Over in Illinois, the first large-scale industrial carbon capture and storage facility in the U.S. is reportedly leaking. Archer-Daniels-Midland has paused operations at the site in Decatur after signs of a potential brine fluid leak were detected at the end of September. Some locals are worried the facility could threaten drinking water, a concern ADM has dismissed.
A new study published in the journal PLOS Climate finds that some “climate shocks” – like storms, floods, and landslides – are associated with a rise in violence against women that can linger for two years. The researchers examined data about intimate partner violence taken from 363 surveys across 156 countries between 1993 and 2019. They compared this data to climate shocks and found a significant link. The relationship was exacerbated in poorer countries. Interestingly, climate shocks such as earthquakes and wildfires did not appear connected to higher rates of violence against women, but the researchers can’t figure out exactly why. “We need further work to understand why these disasters impact on violence against women, and climate resilience strategies need to consider how to integrate violence prevention in the future,” said study co-author Dr. Andrew Gibbs, a social psychologist at the University of Exeter.
Tesla announced third-quarter sales figures yesterday, revealing that global sales were up 6.4%. This marks the first quarterly increase this year, perhaps signaling an EV rebound.
This is a special Hurricane Helene edition of Shift Key. Our regular programming will resume next week.
Nearly a week after Hurricane Helene made landfall, we are still coming to terms with the scale of its destruction. The storm killed at least 182 people, making it the deadliest cyclone to make landfall in the continental United States since Katrina. From Tampa Bay to Asheville, North Carolina, it caused the worst hurricane-related damage in a century.
Why was Hurricane Helene so bad? Why did it cause such horrible flooding in western North Carolina, South Carolina, Tennessee, and Georgia? And did climate change have anything to do with its destruction? To answer these questions, Rob and Jesse speak with Gabriel Vecchi, a Princeton geoscientist and one of the world’s top experts on hurricanes and climate change. Shift Key is hosted by Robinson Meyer is the founding executive editor of Heatmap, and Jesse Jenkins is a professor of energy systems engineering at Princeton University.
Subscribe to “Shift Key” and find this episode on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, Amazon, or wherever you get your podcasts.
You can also add the show’s RSS feed to your podcast app to follow us directly.
Here is an excerpt from our conversation:
Jesse Jenkins: One of the things that always strikes me, too, about these sorts of events is, you know, think about a dam or a levy, right? It is resilient to the point where it’s not, right? You can have one more inch of rainfall, and that’s what it takes to overtop the dam, or to flood the river banks, or these kinds of things.
And so we have designed so much of our civil infrastructure for these one-in-100-year events, what used to be one-in-100-year events, right? The design specs were for that infrastructure. And now those probability distributions are shifting, and the kinds of events that can overwhelm the design basis of this infrastructure are much more probable.
And you go, it’s not like this event was 20% more intense, and so the damage is 20% more. It’s a binary thing. You go from something that our systems were designed to handle to something that they weren’t, and they break in spectacularly damaging ways. And that’s what I see when I look at these kinds of events. This is not the first flooding that we’ve seen in Appalachia, right? We have built out a flood control system because this happens in river valleys in the mountains, where water gets concentrated.
But this kind of rainfall event was so catastrophic because it just overtopped all of that infrastructure. And like you said, there’s very little you can do, once the infrastructure is fixed, to prepare once you see a storm like this coming. We have to really rethink all of the civil infrastructure planning that we’re doing, and that’s just going to take so much time and so much investment.
Gabriel Vecchi: Well, but I think you’re getting there to the issue of the time scales, right? So the National Weather Service did a phenomenal job of predicting this. But this could only be predicted on time scales of days. In order to change our infrastructure, in order to find an infrastructure that is better, it’s a question of years and decades, and maybe longer. And I think there, we need to be forward-thinking. It is important to see this as a call to think about what can start doing now so that in 10 years, in 20 years, whoever is in this situation is in a better position to handle whatever’s there.
Part of it, of course, is going to be to improve our forecasts, to make them longer range, more reliable, capture the universe of possibilities that a weather event can throw our way. But part of it is going to be relatively … maybe sophisticated is not the right word — build actual things on the ground that are different, right? Put rebar in concrete places, rethink the way that we site our buildings, rethink the way that we, where we take water up from. And one way to look at that is as a challenge. Another way to look at that is an opportunity.
I went to, initially, to college, I wanted to be an engineer. I wanted to build bridges. That was my, coming out of high school, I want to be a part of building things. And as I was in college, I realized, number one, I couldn’t take any electives. I didn’t like that. But number two, we weren’t really building many things. And it was sort of like, I wanted to build things right now.
We’re in a position where we do need to build things. We should be building a lot of things. This is, in a way, a call to opportunity.
This episode of Shift Key is sponsored by …
Watershed’s climate data engine helps companies measure and reduce their emissions, turning the data they already have into an audit-ready carbon footprint backed by the latest climate science. Get the sustainability data you need in weeks, not months. Learn more at watershed.com.
As a global leader in PV and ESS solutions, Sungrow invests heavily in research and development, constantly pushing the boundaries of solar and battery inverter technology. Discover why Sungrow is the essential component of the clean energy transition by visiting sungrowpower.com.
Intersolar & Energy Storage North America is the premier U.S.-based conference and trade show focused on solar, energy storage, and EV charging infrastructure. To learn more, visit intersolar.us.
Music for Shift Key is by Adam Kromelow.
New research published today in Nature shocked even the study’s own authors.
Hurricane Helene is, by conventional measures, the deadliest hurricane to strike the continental United States since Katrina. At least 182 people have been confirmed killed by the storm, with hundreds of people still unaccounted for. Although all hurricanes are deadly, only a handful of storms have killed more than 100 people since 1950. Or at least that is what we have long thought. New research suggests that these conventional tallies may be a vast undercount.
Several years ago, two economists and public policy researchers — Rachel Young and Solomon Hsiang, now of Princeton and Stanford — began to study a seemingly simple question: How many Americans do hurricanes kill each year? According to the federal government, the average hurricane kills 24 people after making landfall. That seemed likely to be a modest underestimate. Economists know that natural disasters can have a long tail of suffering; Hsiang expected the real number to be a “single digit multiple” of that figure — perhaps 50 or 100 people per storm.
Yet when they ran the numbers and looked at mortality in places affected by storms, they were initially perplexed by the results, Hsiang told me earlier this week. The numbers they came up with didn’t even make sense at first.
“It was months of us trying to understand what we were looking at,” Hsiang said. “And then once we realized what we were seeing, it was years of us checking our work to find what we missed.” Only when it was clear that their work resembled other American public health statistics — specifically, that the white-Black mortality mirrored what has been found in other studies — that the horrifying truth sunk in.
The finding: Hurricanes are hundreds of times deadlier than anyone has realized.
Their study, which was published on Wednesday in Nature, finds that the average hurricane kills 7,000 to 11,000 people after making landfall in the United States. These previously uncounted deaths happened not during a storm or in its immediate aftermath, but as a long, slow trickle of mortality that plagues a region long after the clouds have cleared and floods have abated.
In any one year, the number of storm-related deaths is not very high. And yet a wave of excess deaths is visible in population data for at least 15 years after a storm hits an area, they found.
“It lasts for so many years, and because there’s so many storms hitting so many states, once you add up, it becomes this enormous number,” Hsiang told me. When added together, hurricanes’ long-term death toll exceeds American combat deaths in all wars, combined. The number so dwarfs previous estimates that it suggests tropical cyclones alone are a major determinant of public health across the United States.
Kerry Emanuel, an MIT meteorology professor who studies climate change and hurricanes, told me that the results were “truly astounding” and “persuasive,” although he noted that he is not an expert in the statistical approach used in the paper.
“Summed over all hurricanes, this amounts to three to five percent of all deaths near the Atlantic coast,” he said. “I expect this result will prove controversial and will be followed up by many other studies of long-term mortality from natural disasters.”
The paper fits into a growing body of research on what others have called the hidden or invisible public health threat of environmental threats. For years, researchers have known that air pollution and heat waves, seemingly silent hazards, can in fact kill tens of thousands of people. Lately they have begun to apply the same techniques to other hazards, with outsized results.
Officially, Hurricane Maria killed 64 people when it struck Puerto Rico in 2017. But when researchers surveyed households across the island months after the storm, they found the death toll was closer to 4,600. (The territory’s government later revised the official figure to 2,975.) These deaths were caused not by the cyclone’s high winds or torrential floods, but rather by secondary effects of the storm’s destruction. Maria took out the island’s power grid and road networks, for instance, and preventing people with heart attacks and strokes from reaching the hospital in time.
That paper was written six months after Maria struck the island; this new hurricane paper considers a wider time horizon, finding that more than 80,000 Americans die each year as a result of a hurricane, whenever it occurred. Black people were disproportionately killed by the aftermath of hurricanes, at least partly because a larger share of the country’s Black population lives in storm-afflicted areas. About 37,000 white deaths each year are due to a prior tropical cyclone.
How could such storms cause such a long tail of deaths, affecting areas 10 or 15 years after they come ashore? The paper cannot answer those questions today. But Hsiang and Young hypothesize that hurricanes cause extreme economic distress, which can resonate for years or decades afterward. “If someone suffers a loss and can’t invest in their business, then it will have ramifications for their income long into the future,” Hsiang told me. “If someone is on a fixed income and their garage is destroyed, and they pull from their retirement funds to fix the garage, then eight years later when they face a big medical decision, they might choose” a cheaper or less effective form of treatment.
“When you talk to people, you hear stories like this,” Hsiang added. The time and money invested in dealing with the storm is often a “pure loss,” even if some of the damage ultimately gets reimbursed. “Even if you have insurance, that just means you already paid for it in some way,” he said.
Storms cause disruption in other ways. They can break up communities and social networks. (If children move away, for instance, their parent can face higher medical bills.) Hurricanes can also impose high costs on states, towns, and cities, which may then have to reduce or restrict other services as a result.
“When you think about how communities rebuild — local municipalities and states — they also play a lot of games with their budget” in the aftermath of a storm, Hsiang said. “If they spend a lot of money to rebuild a bridge or boardwalk somewhere, does that come out of some social program 10 years later? Or building a new NICU hospital?” That could explain why an infant — even one born 15 years after a storm struck a given area — could face a higher chance of death.
Young and Hsiang think that these economic drivers are most likely to be the big reason for the excess deaths — the effect is just too big and drawn out to make any other cause likely — but other possibilities exist, they recognize. Hurricanes could be deadly simply because they are highly stressful events. “We see an effect on cancer rates and also cardiovascular illness. Stress matters a lot to those,” Hsiang said. It’s also possible that hurricanes unleash contamination into the environment that then makes people sick. A flooded basement can become a breeding ground for mold. “There’s gas stations in every town. What chemicals come out when there’s flooding?” Hsiang wondered.
The paper may also help resolve a riddle in American public health. On average, Americans die earlier in the eastern half of the continental United States than in the western half. This effect is worst in the Gulf Coast and Southeast but persists to some degree in the Mid-Atlantic and Northeast.
The paper suggests that hurricanes may have something to do with this geographic phenomenon. For infants, people below the age of 44, and Black people of all ages, hurricanes may explain a large share but not all of the mortality gap.