Meanwhile, towns and counties up and down the California coastline have banned new battery storage projects and requested more control from the state over permitting and operating them.
At the granular level, circumstances look even more tense. Santa Barbara County this week voted to proactively plan for the potential enactment of legislation before the California state assembly that would let localities be the decider on battery storage, instead of state authorities. The bill is scheduled for its first hearing in the assembly’s utility committee in early April. County officials voted to act essentially like it will become the law of the land, despite testimony from local community services staff noting how unique the Moss Landing event was.
What was especially stark to me: Robert Shaw – CEO of local utility Central Coast Community Energy – spoke before the supervisors and made it clear lots of additional storage would be required for the company to meet its 2030 climate commitments. He explained that storage has to be close to where the energy load is in order to avoid costly transmission lines, telling the board that “in order to operate, they’ve got to add reliability to the grid – but they’ve also got to be affordable.”
Now, today, we’re expecting new regulations arising from California’s battery fire fears: the Public Utilities Commission will vote to adopt proposed recommendations for battery storage siting requirements. This will include requirements for emergency response and action plans after battery fires and new standards for safe operation. A vote to adopt these recommendations is scheduled later this afternoon and advocates in California tell me they anticipate no hiccups.
So why such a profound local revolt? How did California rapidly deploy battery storage only to veer into possibly emboldening local control, which certainly may make residents feel better but would also stall the pace of the energy transition?
I’ve spent the last week looking into it and the simplest explanation is this: Moss Landing still feels like a disaster zone. Residents miles away from where the blaze occurred are suffering mysterious illnesses, like random bloody noses and headaches, and medical issues they suspect is related to the fire, such as a random metallic taste. I’ve seen the pictures of skin that looks burned and heard the voices of people who say they no longer have most of their voice after inhaling airborne substances after the event. Locals are routinely posting online about how they’re extremely disappointed with the government’s response, especially state and federal officials, and at the end of the day, no matter the cause, word of such profound and lasting suffering can spread across the internet like, well, a wildfire.
The industry also clearly believes opposition is growing because of misunderstandings about how Moss Landing was a singular incident – most battery storage sites are outdoors and use battery chemistries that offer less risk of a “thermal runaway” event, which is the term of art used to describe the uncontrolled fire spread that can occur at a battery storage site.
Renewables trade group American Clean Power gathered media last week for a virtual briefing to discuss battery safety, during which the group’s vice president of energy storage Noah Roberts sought to reassure the public and said the organization is “working to ensure that an event like this doesn’t happen in the future and do not anticipate an event like this will happen in the future.”
“This battery storage project was located within a retrofitted power plant from the 1950s and very much represents a global anomaly,” Roberts said, adding that “this incident and its impact is not something we have previously seen.”
None of this is stopping Moss Landing from becoming a galvanizing event. I’ve learned that activists on the ground and their attorneys are receiving a flood of inquiries from individuals fighting battery projects elsewhere in the United States.
“You’re going to feel absolutely like guinea pigs — and, unfortunately, you are because protocols weren’t in place,” environmental activist Erin Brockovich told affected residents at a public virtual town hall I attended late Tuesday night. Brockovich encouraged anyone who believes they were impacted by the battery fire to work publicly and behind the scenes to get the local control legislation in the state assembly passed. “Your input, hundreds and hundreds of you, on this legislation can help change the course for many communities in California in the future, on where [BESS] is built, how far away. Are they not going to be built?”
Knut Johnson, an attorney who is representing victims in one of the lawsuits, told me he believes this story should ultimately go national with seismic ramifications for the storage industry. He also told me he’s “curious to see how the Trump administration responds to this.” Johnson put the webinar on with Brockovich, who, he told me, is acting as a paralegal assisting with the case.
“This was so sudden and unexpected and following several years of magical thinking where they weren’t preparing for this possibility,” he said of the developers and state officials.
