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How well-organized opposition is killing renewable energy in a state that’s desperate for power

The Commonwealth of Virginia is clamping down on solar farms.
At least 39 counties in Virginia – 41% of all the state’s counties – now have some form of restriction on solar development, according to a new analysis of Heatmap Pro data. Many of these counties adopted ordinances significantly reducing how much land can be used and capping the total acreage of land allowed for solar projects. Some have gone further by banning new solar facilities altogether.
I wanted to get to the bottom of the Virginia dilemma after we collected this data and crunched these numbers because, simply put, it didn’t make a lot of sense.
Historically Virginia, like Texas, has been a relatively favorable state for energy infrastructure. Culturally, it would make sense for people to welcome new forms of energy. The state is an epicenter in the American data center boom, home to about 35% of all hyperscalers in the world – an economic boon that’ll require inordinate amounts of power. One would assume people want that energy to come from cleaner sources!
Yet counties across the state have been rolling up the red carpets. Mecklenburg recently banned new solar projects. Surry limited solar projects to a tenth of the county’s acreage. Buckingham has put a firm limit on development to 7,500 megawatts of solar projects in total. Why?
Well, here’s where I’ve landed: the opposition’s well organized and benefits from a history of conflicts over other forms of development.
Citizens for Responsible Solar – an anti-renewables organization headquartered in Culpepper, Virginia, founded by a former special adviser to President George W. Bush – has been active in the state since at least 2018. Although it is a national organization in name, and does have factions in other states, its website primarily boasts “success stories” in Virginia counties, including Augusta, Culpepper, Fauquier, Gloucester, Henry, Madison, Mecklenburg, and Page counties.
CRS is primarily focused on opposing solar on agricultural lands – a topic we’ve previously covered thoroughly – as well as forested areas. It claims to not be entirely against solar energy but only wants projects on industrial-zoned acreage. But the organization is also well documented to spread misinformation about solar energy itself.
Dr. Faith Harris of Virginia Interfaith Power & Light told me this week that her experience speaking with individuals opposed to renewable energy in the state indicates that falsehoods and conspiracy theories are playing a large role in turning otherwise friendly counties against solar energy. In her view, this has become an even bigger problem since the state turned red with the election of Governor Glenn Youngkin, who this week vetoed a slate of climate bills, including one that would make it easier to permit small solar farms and battery storage facilities.
“We’ve had a lot of misinformation and directions and narratives changed trying to initiate a resurgence of more fossil fuels,” Harris said. “It’s part of the movement to prevent and stop renewable energy.”
There’s something else going on, too, and it’s historically linked to systemic social inequities in some of these counties. They’ve been burned before, Harris noted, over the construction of other forms of industrial energy.
For years, Buckingham County residents resisted the construction of a gas compression station smack dab in the middle of a historically Black neighborhood. I covered this conflict early in my environmental journalism career because it was central to the construction of the now-defunct Atlantic Coast gas pipeline. It was a fight Buckingham won, in no small part due to the support of organizations like Virginia Interfaith Power & Light.
Now, Buckingham has capped solar projects. I asked Harris why a county that was so aggressive in fighting gas power would be against renewable energy, and she bluntly replied that these two fights are “pretty much directly related” – with the added conspiracy factor making matters worse for solar projects. For example, she’s heard complaints from residents in Buckingham about trees that could be cut down for solar, echoing the claims spread by organizations like CRS.
“People in the communities have been challenged and frightened in some way that solar is somehow going to have an impact on them, and not really even recognizing that they’re constantly being exposed to air and water contamination,” she said. “I don’t think the average person understands how they get their energy.”
She added: “This is still an ongoing challenge and in many ways we – the climate movement – have failed to educate the public well enough.”
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Rural Marylanders have asked for the president’s help to oppose the data center-related development — but so far they haven’t gotten it.
A transmission line in Maryland is pitting rural conservatives against Big Tech in a way that highlights the growing political sensitivities of the data center backlash. Opponents of the project want President Trump to intervene, but they’re worried he’ll ignore them — or even side with the data center developers.
The Piedmont Reliability Project would connect the Peach Bottom nuclear plant in southern Pennsylvania to electricity customers in northern Virginia, i.e.data centers, most likely. To get from A to B, the power line would have to criss-cross agricultural lands between Baltimore, Maryland and the Washington D.C. area.
As we chronicle time and time again in The Fight, residents in farming communities are fighting back aggressively – protesting, petitioning, suing and yelling loudly. Things have gotten so tense that some are refusing to let representatives for Piedmont’s developer, PSEG, onto their properties, and a court battle is currently underway over giving the company federal marshal protection amid threats from landowners.
Exacerbating the situation is a quirk we don’t often deal with in The Fight. Unlike energy generation projects, which are usually subject to local review, transmission sits entirely under the purview of Maryland’s Public Service Commission, a five-member board consisting entirely of Democrats appointed by current Governor Wes Moore – a rumored candidate for the 2028 Democratic presidential nomination. It’s going to be months before the PSC formally considers the Piedmont project, and it likely won’t issue a decision until 2027 – a date convenient for Moore, as it’s right after he’s up for re-election. Moore last month expressed “concerns” about the project’s development process, but has brushed aside calls to take a personal position on whether it should ultimately be built.
Enter a potential Trump card that could force Moore’s hand. In early October, commissioners and state legislators representing Carroll County – one of the farm-heavy counties in Piedmont’s path – sent Trump a letter requesting that he intervene in the case before the commission. The letter followed previous examples of Trump coming in to kill planned projects, including the Grain Belt Express transmission line and a Tennessee Valley Authority gas plant in Tennessee that was relocated after lobbying from a country rock musician.
One of the letter’s lead signatories was Kenneth Kiler, president of the Carroll County Board of Commissioners, who told me this lobbying effort will soon expand beyond Trump to the Agriculture and Energy Departments. He’s hoping regulators weigh in before PJM, the regional grid operator overseeing Mid-Atlantic states. “We’re hoping they go to PJM and say, ‘You’re supposed to be managing the grid, and if you were properly managing the grid you wouldn’t need to build a transmission line through a state you’re not giving power to.’”
Part of the reason why these efforts are expanding, though, is that it’s been more than a month since they sent their letter, and they’ve heard nothing but radio silence from the White House.
“My worry is that I think President Trump likes and sees the need for data centers. They take a lot of water and a lot of electric [power],” Kiler, a Republican, told me in an interview. “He’s conservative, he values property rights, but I’m not sure that he’s not wanting data centers so badly that he feels this request is justified.”
Kiler told me the plan to kill the transmission line centers hinges on delaying development long enough that interest rates, inflation and rising demand for electricity make it too painful and inconvenient to build it through his resentful community. It’s easy to believe the federal government flexing its muscle here would help with that, either by drawing out the decision-making or employing some other as yet unforeseen stall tactic. “That’s why we’re doing this second letter to the Secretary of Agriculture and Secretary of Energy asking them for help. I think they may be more sympathetic than the president,” Kiler said
At the moment, Kiler thinks the odds of Piedmont’s construction come down to a coin flip – 50-50. “They’re running straight through us for data centers. We want this project stopped, and we’ll fight as well as we can, but it just seems like ultimately they’re going to do it,” he confessed to me.
Thus is the predicament of the rural Marylander. On the one hand, Kiler’s situation represents a great opportunity for a GOP president to come in and stand with his base against a would-be presidential candidate. On the other, data center development and artificial intelligence represent one of the president’s few economic bright spots, and he has dedicated copious policy attention to expanding growth in this precise avenue of the tech sector. It’s hard to imagine something less “energy dominance” than killing a transmission line.
The White House did not respond to a request for comment.
Plus more of the week’s most important fights around renewable energy.
1. Wayne County, Nebraska – The Trump administration fined Orsted during the government shutdown for allegedly killing bald eagles at two of its wind projects, the first indications of financial penalties for energy companies under Trump’s wind industry crackdown.
2. Ocean County, New Jersey – Speaking of wind, I broke news earlier this week that one of the nation’s largest renewable energy projects is now deceased: the Leading Light offshore wind project.
3. Dane County, Wisconsin – The fight over a ginormous data center development out here is turning into perhaps one of the nation’s most important local conflicts over AI and land use.
4. Hardeman County, Texas – It’s not all bad news today for renewable energy – because it never really is.
A conversation with Cape May County Commissioner candidate Eric Morey.
This week’s conversation is with Eric Morey, who just ran to be a commissioner for Cape May County, New Jersey – one of the Garden State coastal counties opposed to offshore wind. Morey is a Democrat and entered the race this year as a first-time politician, trying to help crack the county panel’s more-than-two-decade Republican control. Morey was unsuccessful, losing by thousands of votes, but his entry into politics was really interesting to me – we actually met going back and forth about energy policy on Bluesky, and he clearly had a passionate interest in debunking some of the myths around renewables. So I decided to call him up in the hopes he would answer a perhaps stupid question: Could his county ever support offshore wind?
The following conversation has been lightly edited for clarity.
Why did you run for county commissioner?
The biggest part of my motivation to step forward and try to get elected was I really felt like the light advocacy I did in the past wasn’t enough. The commission has been entirely controlled by the Republican Party for 25 years – and that’s no reason to not try.
I think it kind of worked. Unfortunately I was unable to convince enough people to vote for me this go around. But I was reaching people who traditionally wouldn’t have considered voting for a Democrat, and I think I can get more people to come around next time. I’m not giving up, and I now have the benefit of hindsight. I’m going to spend more time in front of people, talking to them.
Was offshore wind an issue in your county commissioner race?
Unfortunately the Republican Party in Cape May County, the leadership, made sure the wind farms weren’t really going to be an active issue for our race because they spearheaded years of lawsuits that shut down offshore wind in New Jersey. It was kind of a moot point for this particular election. There wasn’t much to advocate for because there weren’t companies willing to take up projects.
But I was able to talk to people about the disappointment. There was so much hard work put in to stop a project that would’ve had huge benefits for electricity prices and the environment. It was a bit more indirect – there was no ability to campaign for, well, getting wind turbines up to ease electricity prices. Instead it became highlighting the decision-making process rather than advocating for an opportunity.
Now the opening is for solar in Cape May County, and I advocated for easier solar panel installations on people’s private properties, on their homes, and using the county property to install solar energy. I think there's still a lot of low-hanging fruit there. But even then, a lot of people in the county actually have solar installed, and there are others who see limitations to putting solar on their property because of constraints on the grid. Some people here can’t attach to the grid.
Do you think that your perspective on this issue, your willingness to look up information and tell people about the complexities around this, has a place in Cape May County? Is there room for an agnostic or even pro-renewable energy candidate in Cape May County?
I think there’s room, but it’s not going to be the primary concern of most voters, to be honest.
There was a big movement amongst residents against the wind turbines, largely for aesthetic reasons. They didn’t want the shoreline to have wind turbines on the horizon. There’s others who are awash with a campaign that I might characterize as “concern trolling” where if you look into them, it’s not as pure of a win as it actually is.
Being able to talk to people and hear their concerns, I think it gained me a lot of room. I’ve had conversations with people who were skeptical about wind turbines, and after listening to something they talked about, I’d do research and then invite them into another conversation, and they’d see I am not dismissing them.
What I find is that what people are bringing up is not false, per se, but not a reason to stop offshore wind. It makes the projects an imperfect deal, not a bad deal.
What do you think it would take for Cape May County to be okay with offshore wind?
I think for it to change … I don’t know if I have the answer there. Financially I think the numbers need to be right for a company to come in to want to do it, number one. And if nobody wants to come and install the wind turbines, then I don’t know how much sentiment would matter.
But as far as sentiment is concerned, just seeing that it works in other places helps a lot, as people see a project doesn’t bring about the negative consequences they were worried about.
Also, from a human being standpoint … At some point electricity might get pricey enough that people might be more accepting of something they don’t think is aesthetically pleasing.