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Facing a fossil energy crisis, voters in this oil-producing state have some decisions to make.

When you think of climate change, you think of Alaska whether you realize it or not.
With its pipelines, polar bears, and dramatic, calving glaciers, the state has contributed an outsized amount of stock footage to global warming montages over the years. Combined with a nearly unbroken record of backing Republican presidential candidates and an increasingly young and diverse voting-age population, there’s a popular impression — among outsiders, anyway — of the state as a front line in the battle between continued fossil fuel dependence and a clean-energy future.
Somewhat ironically, Alaskans themselves don’t typically view things that way. Though no fewer than four utility board elections and the Anchorage mayoral race this spring will help to shape the energy future of the Railbelt, the electrical grid that runs from Fairbanks through Anchorage and out to the Kenai Peninsula and serves 70% of the state’s population, locals are debating the stakes in terms of cost.
“Literally nobody who is pitching renewables [on the campaign trail] is pitching them as a solution to climate change,” Nathaniel Herz, an independent Anchorage-based reporter who covers energy, environment, and government issues in the state for his newsletter Northern Journal, told me. Rather, the selling point is that wind, solar, and tidal power could be the way out of an urgent gas shortage.
The energy crisis touched off in earnest last May when the region’s largest natural gas producer, Hilcorp, informed the four Railbelt utilities that it doesn’t have access to enough deliverable gas in Cook Inlet to guarantee new contracts going forward. Though a gas shortage in the aging basin was a long time coming, the urgency of the situation still came as a shock; the Railbelt utilities get about 80% of their energy from natural gas. Demand could outpace supply as soon as 2027, the state has warned.

Homer Electric Association was the first utility to face the consequences, with a contract that expired this year. As a stopgap, it signed a one-year contract with Enstar, the local private gas utility that gets 90% of its supply from Hilcorp (and also supplies gas for heating homes and businesses) at a higher price. The rest of the Railbelt co-ops’ contracts are set to expire by 2028.
Proposed solutions to the crisis range from new drilling in Cook Inlet — which is risky, expensive, and laden with permitting hurdles, making it unappealing to investors — to building an 800-mile, $43 billion pipeline from the oil-rich North Slope. More realistically, the Railbelt seems headed toward importing liquified natural gas from British Columbia, at least in the short term.
That option is “really unpalatable to many Alaskans,” Satchel Pondolfino, the lower Kenai Peninsula organizer for Cook Inletkeeper, a Homer-based environmental non-profit, told me. “We’re an energy state: It’s inconceivable for a lot of people that we have to bring in fuel from other places.”
It’s also expensive. Importing LNG could result in 50% higher costs for the utilities. That, in turn, would mean up to a 15% hike in consumers’ already-steep utility bills, and likely “even more than that for heating bills,” as Herz has reported — no small thing in a place where it is dark and cold for half the year. One independent analysis Herz cites found that the 80% renewable portfolio standard proposed by the state’s Republican Governor Mike Dunleavy would save $6.7 billion in fuel costs over the next 35 years compared to an estimated $3.2 billion investment in the projects. The National Renewable Energy Laboratory’s latest assessment likewise found that a large clean-energy build-out would be “more affordable than relying on imported natural gas.”
Critically, then, the spring elections in Alaska will help decide both what the long-term solution will be and how quickly it should be implemented. The Anchorage mayoral runoff set for this coming Tuesday — a choice between incumbent Dave Bronson, a self-described “center-right kind of guy” who favors new Cook Inlet drilling, and Suzanne LaFrance, a Lead Locally-endorsed climate candidate pushing for a renewable mix — is perhaps the marquee race, albeit one with a more limited say over the future energy mix.
“Utilities have control over specifically where they get their energy from, and the legislature has a lot of control over how we tax different energy producers,” Jenny-Marie Stryker, the political director at The Alaska Center, the state’s largest conservation advocacy organization, told me. But while there is not “one turnkey thing that we’re looking for the mayor to do,” Stryker added, it’s instead the “many, many steps” LaFrance has promised to follow in the city’s climate action plan that would mark an improvement over Bronson. (LaFrance’s campaign did not respond to Heatmap’s request for comment.)
Bronson, who was elected during the pandemic when Alaskans were bristling against perceived government overreach, ignored his predecessor’s climate action plan and established the Southcentral Mayors’ Energy Coalition to address the Railbelt energy crisis — a move Stryker told me was a “pretty big waste of time,” since it’s something the 11-mayor group has “no control over.” Bronson defended his decision to me in an emailed statement, arguing that any climate action plan is by necessity secondary to addressing Southcentral Alaska’s immediate energy concerns.
“It is easy to say, ‘Let’s build a massive solar plant, let’s invest in tidal energy, let’s investigate geothermal,’” he wrote. “However, there are grid transmission upgrades that need to be made” before that can be a reality. Additionally, while the assumption is that building out new renewables is “easy,” the “permitting process alone can take 2-3 years, and in some cases, 5-6 years,” he stressed. (New LNG import terminals, meanwhile, might not be online until 2030.)
Herz, the reporter, told me earlier that renewable project developers “would be looking at capital expenditures that were 80% to 90% higher than they would be to develop utility-scale renewable projects in the Lower 48.” In an oil state, there is also an “inherent skepticism about some of the renewable technology and economic viability that you might not find elsewhere in the United States because there aren’t really big utility-scale projects that have been built here.” The ones that are on the board — including a possible and intriguing tidal energy project — fall more firmly into the purview of the local co-ops.
The utility board elections, then, have a more immediate hand in shaping the Railbelt’s future energy mix. Two of those elections have already taken place: for the board of the Matanushka Electric Association, where both climate candidates lost (albeit one by just 41 of 3,246 votes), and for the Homer Electric Association, where a climate candidate was re-elected and a challenger lost, maintaining the board’s ideological status quo. Chugach Electric Association, which represents Anchorage and is the largest provider in the state, will go next, with voting ongoing and ending May 17. That board is currently held by a pro-renewable majority that has advanced utility-scale wind and solar projects, with pro-gas challengers vying to take back control.
Finally, Fairbanks’ Golden Valley Electric Association ballots are due June 4, with Gary Newman, a pro-renewable Democrat, attempting to hold off Harmony Tomaszewski, who helped block a local climate action plan last year. Fairbanks has been hit especially hard by the energy crisis, burning coal and diesel to compensate for LNG shortfalls and polluting its air. A rate hike of about $29 more per month for households has also brought unusually high levels of public interest to the co-op election.
While “on paper” the current GVEA board is “pretty conservative,” Eleanor Gagnon, the energy justice organizer with the Fairbanks Climate Action Coalition, told me, its annual meeting in April featured a lot of talk about diversifying its energy portfolio — a conversation that would have been shocking even a few years ago. “They really seem to have come to the realization that more renewables are necessary because of these rate hikes, and because the rate hikes are due to the instability of natural gas sources,” she said.
I’ve spoken with organizers before about how policies with positive climate benefits are often economic issues at heart — ones that sometimes override environmental motivations — and that seems especially true in Alaska. “The urgency of Cook Inlet gas not meeting our demands by 2027 — folks are throwing climate out the window,” Pondolfino, the Cook Inletkeeper organizer, said. “They’re like, ‘We just need energy security and we need to be able to afford it.’”
The math shows that having a diversified renewable mix would be better economically than importing expensive LNG. That doesn’t mean it will be an easy transition, or a quick one, but it gives activists and advocates a clear goal to keep working toward on every ballot.
“Most people in the Lower 48 do not have any way to voice their opinion about the direction their utility should move in, or to vote for representatives,” Pondolfino said. “It is a privilege to vote in elections that have a really direct impact on people’s lives and their ability to afford to live here.”
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France’s deadliest heat wave since 2003 killed more than 2,700 people — and possibly as many as 5,700.
More than 5,700 excess deaths were recorded in France during this summer’s record-breaking heat wave, the country’s health agency announced today. That makes the event — which ran, by the official reckoning, from June 17 to July 2 — the country’s deadliest heat wave in more than 20 years.
That’s in line with other estimates we’ve heard. EuroMOMO, a network of European public health agencies that track excess mortality, found that the continent saw more than 10,000 excess deaths during the same period. Roughly 90% of those victims were older than 65, it said. (France’s cohort seems similar: Adults older than 75 made up about two-thirds of the victims, the government said.)
These numbers are staggering — and much larger than some astute Heatmap readers might anticipate. If you read my colleague Jeva Lange’s piece on why it’s so hard to estimate heat deaths last week, she cited a much smaller estimate: Roughly 2,700 died in France during the most recent heat wave. That tally came from Christopher Callahan, an Indiana University scientist who studies climate change’s economic and social costs.
Why is there such a gap between the figures? I emailed Callahan to find out. He shared a few thoughts. First, he uses a different (and theoretically more rigorous) method than the French government: “Our approach uses a statistical relationship between temperature and mortality to explicitly quantify how many additional deaths are associated with a given day’s temperature,” he wrote. “France’s report of excess deaths is just based on how many more people died in late June compared to previous Junes - but we don’t know if those people died because of the heat or some other factor.” (Carbon Brief recently published a Q&A on these varying approaches.)
That might mean his estimate is right, in which case France has misidentified roughly nearly 3,000 deaths. But it could also mean his model, which is trained on data from 2004 to 2019, is “missing something,” he said, like a post-Covid change to public health risk. Last year, Callahan and his colleagues used a similar model to estimate deaths from France’s worst-ever heatwave, a 2003 episode that overwhelmed morgues and killed about 16,000 people. Even 23 years ago, global warming helped make that disaster larger than it needed to be: Some 6,000 of those deaths were due to climate change, their paper found.
Either estimate of the 2026 heat wave, of course, is shattering. As Jeva wrote, even the lower figure would mean the 2026 heat wave killed as many people as died in three years of French homicides. But the divergence in estimates tells us something else too: Even as climate change breaks records and alters our world, we’re never going to quite agree on where it ends and normal randomness begins.
The AI data center boom does not seem close to ending. Google’s parent company, Alphabet, announced its second quarter results this evening, and it beat Wall Street’s expectations, nearly quadrupling its profit on a year-over-year basis. Among the drivers: Its cloud business grew 82% compared to the same quarter last year. (As I’ve written, that rapid growth is helping to turn Alphabet and other hyperscalers into light industrial firms.)
The company’s AI bets seem to be paying off so far — so Google is now planning on spending even more on data centers, energy infrastructure and AI development this year than it once anticipated. It raised its estimates of 2026 capital expenditure to $195 billion to $205 billion, which is above earlier projections and twice as much as it spent in the same category last year. 2027 could be even bigger, it signaled. The company’s shares fell slightly on the news in after-hours trading, but from an energy and climate wonk perspective, the message is clear: For now, the AI demand surge transforming the power sector — and the real economy — continues to chug along.