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The president isn’t trying to cut emissions as fast possible. He’s doing something else.

Here’s the problem with President Joe Biden’s climate policy: From a certain point of view, it makes no sense.
Take his electricity policy. At the top level, Biden has committed to eliminating greenhouse-gas pollution from the power sector by 2035. He wants to accomplish this largely by making clean energy cheaper — that’s the goal of the Inflation Reduction Act, of course — and he has also changed federal rules so it’s slightly easier to build power lines and large-scale renewable projects. He has also added teeth to that goal in the form of new Environmental Protection Agency rules cracking down on coal and natural gas.
Yet at the same time, Biden has seemingly also made it more difficult to decarbonize. Last week, he raised tariffs on cheap solar panels and grid-scale batteries made in China. And he ended the two-year “solar bridge,” a tariff exemption for some Chinese-based solar manufacturers that operated in other countries. That means that as soon as next month, some eye-watering tariffs — possibly as high as 254% — could apply to many U.S. solar imports.
Then there’s Biden’s policy on electric cars. The president wants 50% of all new vehicles sold in the U.S. to be EVs or plug-in hybrids by 2030, and he has overseen billions of dollars of spending aimed at building a national charging network. His climate law discounts the price of many EVs by $7,500 and directly subsidizes virtually every battery and vehicle made in America. Yet he recently put 100% tariffs on EV imports from China, the country that makes some of the world’s cheapest and best electric cars.
This combination is, frankly, a little confusing. And it has confounded critics around the world: It can sometimes seem like the president is cutting the cost of clean energy with one hand while raising it with another. “The Biden effect will be to raise the U.S. domestic price of EVs, solar panels and other green inputs and delay America’s energy transition,” writes Edward Luce of the Financial Times. The Economist, in high dudgeon, lectured Biden for forgetting his David Ricardo.
There is certainly much to criticize about Biden’s climate policy, but reading coverage of it, I’m often struck by how little the commentator seems to understand what the policy is trying to do. There is, as Noah Smith and Matt Yglesias have written, a strong national-security component to the tariffs announced last week. But there’s more to these policies than national security alone. Although the president’s actions can sometimes seem contradictory, there is in fact a logic to what Biden is trying to do on climate change. And without defending the policy, I think it is important to describe it accurately.
Let’s back up. For the past 30 years, climate advocates tried to raise the cost of fossil fuels in America by imposing a carbon price. Taxing carbon pollution is the most elegant and economically efficient way to solve climate change, and — at least in theory — it doesn’t require the kind of fine-tuned economic tampering that the Biden administration is engaged in. Or at least that’s what the economists say — I remain skeptical that a carbon tax alone would have succeeded in decarbonizing the economy without additional policy.
And in any case, the point is moot: Climate advocates never succeeded in passing such a price. Voters were understandably resistant to raising the cost of energy, especially gasoline, and no coalition emerged to persuade politicians that the political costs of a carbon tax would be worth bearing. During many of those years, too, the American economy was so understimulated that passing a revenue-raising tax made little political sense: There was effectively no public constituency for deficit reduction.
By 2020, Democrats had largely given up on this approach. Although many still believe that a carbon tax could be an effective decarbonization tool, they instead adopted a new political economic philosophy. Simplified somewhat, it goes something like:
1. The biggest obstacle to passing American climate policy is the lack of a domestic coalition that supports the deep and continued decarbonization of the domestic economy.
2. Passing climate policy has been so hard historically because a powerful and geographically diverse set of companies, unions, state, and local officials, and political donors — largely but not entirely in the fossil fuel industry — don’t want to see the U.S. move away from oil and natural gas. They’re backed up by status-quo-favoring consumers.
3. The central aim of near-term climate policy, then, should be to create an enduring coalition to support the continued decarbonization of the U.S. economy.
This is the guiding logic of Biden’s climate policy: that American politics must have a powerful, durable, and flexible pro-decarbonization coalition if the U.S. is to succeed in reaching net zero. Achieving this coalition is the underlying aim of the IRA, the EPA rules, and — yes — the recent tariffs.
This is what I wish critics understood about the president’s climate strategy: Biden’s strategy won’t have succeeded if the U.S. makes some headway on emissions but imports all of its decarbonization tech from China. The U.S. actually has to develop its own supply chain and manufacturing base to build the kind of deep economic coalition that can sustain long-term decarbonization. This is why trade restrictions have become so central to the administration’s world view.
I should add that for all that the administration emphasizes “good-paying union jobs” in its messaging around climate policy, jobs alone aren’t necessarily the goal of this strategy. Critics of American industrial policy sometimes point out that, even in China, the labor share of manufacturing is falling; indeed, one of China’s great manufacturing advantages is the extent to which it has automated its assembly lines. But that may not necessarily matter to coalition politics: As the political scientist Nina Kelsey has shown in her research on the Montreal Protocol, companies tend to support environmental policy when doing so will help their large-scale, fixed investments — essentially, their factories — not their labor force.
There are big risks to Biden’s strategy. The next administration — which in this moment looks likely to be helmed by Donald Trump — could repeal the production and installation subsidies for renewables but leave the tariffs in place. That would devastate the finances of domestic solar manufacturers and significantly slow down the decarbonization of America’s grid, and it would mean that Americans who want to import cheap solar panels wouldn’t be able to. That would essentially freeze America’s decarbonization effort while the rest of the world races ahead.
Even if Biden wins, the kind of economic management that he’s trying to do may simply not be possible in the federal system — or, for that matter, with the existing Democratic coalition. There may be too many interest groups to placate or too many obstacles to building. California offers a warning about how well-intentioned liberal policy can prevent enough new infrastructure from getting built.
Still a third risk is that the American solar manufacturing industry meets domestic demand but doesn’t become very competitive, so it doesn’t reduce costs aggressively. A relatively small number of firms actually make solar panels in the United States, and they have to compete for engineering talent with more established industries like software. What has brought down the cost of solar in China isn’t subsidies per se, but an intensely competitive and very large domestic market. It isn’t clear that the American market for solar power will attain such scale or efficiency.
These would, obviously, be lasting setbacks for American decarbonization. But even in critiquing this set of policies, I hope the world notes what a different problem America faces when taking on climate change as compared to the rest of the world. Most countries import more oil than they produce, meaning their fossil-fuel addiction shackles their currencies and economies to a volatile global commodity. They are only too happy to move away from fossil fuels, and especially oil, provided that a cheap and acceptable alternative is available. In the United Kingdom, for instance, cross-partisan support for decarbonization policy has existed since the era of Margaret Thatcher.
In the United States, with our oil-drenched politics, the task is different. Only a sufficiently powerful pro-climate coalition will be able to unseat the fossil fuels enthroned atop our economy. Forging this coalition — even if it slows down decarbonization for a few years — is Biden’s true goal. Whether that’s worth it is another story.
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Jesse and Rob take stock of 2025.
2025 has been incredibly eventful for decarbonization — and not necessarily in a good way. The return of Donald Trump, the One Big Beautiful Bill Act, and the rise of data centers and artificial intelligence led to more changes for climate policy and the clean energy sector than we’ve seen in years. Some of those we saw coming. Others we really did not.
On this week’s episode of Shift Key, Rob and Jesse look back at the year’s biggest energy and decarbonization stories and examine what they got right — and what they got wrong. What’s been most surprising about the Trump administration? Why didn’t the Inflation Reduction Act’s policies help prevent the law’s partial repeal? And why have AI and the data center boom become a much bigger driver of power growth than we once thought?
Shift Key is hosted by Robinson Meyer, the founding executive editor of Heatmap, and Jesse Jenkins, 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: I think what I’m saying on the organizing side is that all of the organizing and comms effort was going in, as you pointed out, to a base-building and turnout strategy, not a constituency-expanding, coalition-building strategy, right? The effort was to go deep, not wide.
I think that was the fundamental mistake because there wasn’t a lot of depth there. There wasn’t this big, untapped pool of youth voters waiting to be turned out. And it meant we put basically no effort into expanding the broad set of constituencies that, for various ideological backgrounds and various motivations, could have all agreed that hey, bringing manufacturing jobs back to America finally after 20 years of politicians talking about it is maybe a good thing we want to sustain. Hey, lowering energy prices by building new energy supplies at a time when demand is growing, that’s a good idea, maybe we should sustain that, right? Creating tax bases in rural areas through investment in solar farms and wind farms — maybe that’s a good thing we should sustain.
Politics isn’t about getting everybody to agree on motivation, right? It’s about getting people to agree on what we’re going to do as a body politic. And unfortunately, that’s what I guess I’m getting at by this hyperpartisan, ideologically-driven world is, now it is all about getting everybody to agree on motivations, and —
Robinson Meyer: That’s what I was going to say. I actually think it’s —
Jenkins: And that’s just a terrible way to make policy. And I guess it makes this all that much harder.
Meyer: I think for me, I fear we’ve run the climate base experiment so well now that people have gotten this message, and people are starting to understand these policies in terms of energy affordability or clean energy policy. And that means lots of good things for clean energy. I think people should keep making the argument because it seems to me to be true that, for instance, the One Big Beautiful Bill Act’s termination of the wind and solar tax credits is going to mean bad things for American electricity customers. It’s going to raise rates.
But I do think that we should take the full lesson of the IRA experience and say, look, if people care about affordability and you tell them you’re working for affordability, you actually do need to put affordability at the center of your policies. And you need to be willing to understand that there is a tradeoff between affordability and emissions, but unfortunately, the electorate might care about affordability.
Mentioned:
From the Shift Key archive: A Skeptic’s Take on AI and Energy Growth, with Jonathan Koomey
The R2 Is the Rivian That Matters
Ford, Hyundai US sales down slightly in November as EVs drag
Jesse’s upshift; Rob’s sorta upshift.
Music for Shift Key is by Adam Kromelow.
Julie Liu is converting gas customers to heat pumps, one home at a time.
For Julie Liu, electrifying a home is like putting on an Off- Off- Broadway show.
Working almost entirely alone, Liu serves as producer, stage manager, and director, bankrolling the production, hiring the crew, arranging the logistics, choreographing the action, and dazzling the audience — the homeowner or tenants — along the way. Heat pumps and induction stoves are the stars. Plumbers, HVAC technicians, and insulation specialists sub in for set decorators, sound engineers, and costume designers. Electricians play themselves.
If all goes well, after just a week or so of focused, frenzied work, the show arrives at the grand finale: the capping of the gas line.
Liu has staged this performance more than 25 times since 2023 as the implementation contractor for Electric Advantage, an incentive program in New York offered by the gas and electric utility Con Edison. The program covers 100% of the cost of replacing a building owner’s gas-powered appliances with electric versions, plus installing insulation and air sealing. Although it sounds too good to be true, there’s no catch — except that you have to be lucky enough to own a building that’s eligible for the program and agree to cut your gas connection.
ConEd, as it’s known, delivers natural gas to just over a million customers in the Bronx, Manhattan, Northern Queens, and Westchester County, and qualifies buildings for the program by first identifying sections of pipeline on the peripheries of its network that are due for replacement. Then it runs a cost-benefit analysis. If it would be cheaper to electrify all of the buildings served by a given stretch of gas main than to dig up the street and replace the pipe, the company starts going out to the homeowners and businesses along the line to gauge their interest. If the owners agree to go electric, that’s when Liu steps in.
There’s no established name for what Liu does. “It’s not a home improvement business, it’s not an energy efficiency business, it’s not an HVAC business,” she told me. “It’s about putting together a tight live production.” An apt title would be “electrification contractor” — one of the few, if not the only one of her kind operating in the New York area.
Anyone who has tried to electrify even just one appliance in their home has probably wished they could hire someone like Liu. Between finding an available and trustworthy contractor, navigating quotes and equipment choices, and managing ballooning costs, the process is often frustrating and confusing. It’s a major time commitment, not to mention a big capital investment — not a winning formula for mass adoption.
Liu doesn’t offer her services to just any homeowner, though. She only takes on jobs that come through contracts with utilities and government agencies like the New York State Energy Research and Development Authority, or NYSERDA. Having ConEd’s backing is actually one of the major benefits Liu brings to the work. It means she’s held to stringent standards of performance. Her business fronts the full cost of every Electric Advantage project, putting up tens of thousands of dollars for parts and labor, and only gets paid back by the utility after she demonstrates she’s met every requirement. Engineers check her design choices on the front end and the installations on the back end. A missing anti-tip bracket on a stove once almost cost her an entire $100,000 job, she told me.
Liu is the first to admit that all of this is a huge headache and a tough business model. She also fundamentally believes in this being utility-backed work. When a homeowner pursues a project on their own, the oversight is only as strong as their own ability to vet contractors and manage the job — which, with limited time, information, and leverage in the market, is likely not nearly as strong as Liu’s.
“My conviction is, for the middle class to thrive, we need to have a lot of things that are expensive to do and complex to do to become utilities,” Liu said. “That’s my hypothesis since I was 22.”
In the climate world, a lot of advocates and experts also believe that a utility-run program like Electric Advantage is the key to unlocking an all-electric future, although for slightly different reasons. When random individual homeowners decide to electrify, a shrinking number of remaining gas customers have to pay to maintain the entire pipeline system. If utilities instead strategically prune the gas system while helping customers go electric, the theory goes, it can reduce costs for remaining gas customers while also creating sustained demand for heat pump retrofits. This would help build the workforce necessary to perform them and create economies of scale.
The problem is, ConEd has 4,400 miles of gas mains. In just over two years of running Electric Advantage, the utility has retired about half of one mile. If the program, or similar ones at other New York utilities, were ever to scale from converting about a dozen buildings a year to taking on the whole state, it would need a lot more Julie Lius. ConEd has a small network of contractors who take on projects with more limited scopes, but Liu is the only one doing whole-home decarbonization.
“It’s high capex deployment of complex work in the field, and you have to have people who go into people’s homes and not piss them off,” said Liu. “That’s a very unique business.”
Liu is not exactly a known figure in the world of building electrification. She’s not on social media or otherwise broadcasting her accomplishments or policy views. You won’t find her headlining clean energy panels or on the boards of nonprofits. But Liu has been quietly leading building electrification in the New York area for nearly a decade. Her early belief in heat pumps and determination to bring them to the New York market helped lay the foundation for future programs in the state.
Long before all of this, Liu was a Taiwanese immigrant growing up in Hacienda Heights, Los Angeles. Her family moved to California from Taipei in 1983, just before she entered seventh grade. Liu told me she “did all the good, dutiful-daughter things.” Her family owned a small furniture manufacturing business, and she went to college at Carnegie Mellon for business and industrial design with the intention of helping her dad produce “more inspiring furniture than colonial reproductions.”
Then her education at Carnegie Mellon took her in a different direction. The programs were built around “productivity, process orientation, efficiency, build it cheaper, faster — it’s all about, can you get things done?” She developed an appreciation for utilities, in a broad sense — for how much of the economy was built around “serving more and more people at scale, and serving them better things.”
When she graduated in the mid-1990s, Liu broke the news to her parents that she wanted to get into telecommunications — the hot field at the time. She initially thought she wanted to work at the Federal Communications Commission, but some early mentors warned her that she wasn’t suited for government work and connected her with a job at DirectTV. “You’re too eager to get things done, you’ll be banging your head against the wall,” she recalled being told at the time. “Go to the private sector.”
She went on to spend the next 15-odd years working in satellite television in New York, with a brief interlude starting a software-as-a-service company with an ex-boyfriend that was a little too ahead of its time, according to Liu. She was successful in the industry, but she wasn’t very happy, she told me. She felt like she was “growing couch potatoes.”
By 2014, after a few zigs and zags — business school, a stint at an online real estate startup in Luxembourg — Liu found herself back in New York, unemployed, and spending a lot of her time trying to fix up the rat-infested Brooklyn brownstone she owned. The building had an oil-burning heating system that was draining her bank account. She wanted to install minisplit heat pumps, which were everywhere back in Taiwan, but at the time nobody was really doing that in New York.
In early 2016, still unemployed and living off savings and tenant rent, Liu reached out to the New York State Energy Research and Development Authority, or NYSERDA, to ask about incentives for minisplits, and got connected to a consulting firm called the Levy Partnership that was putting together a proposal for the agency’s first-ever heat pump pilot project. The company told her that brownstones were too difficult and expensive, though, and that it was planning to propose doing the pilot in just a couple of mobile homes on Long Island.
Liu was peeved. Statistically that wouldn’t have even constituted a demonstration, she told me. “That’s not even an alpha in the world of where I came from, satellite communications.” She made a bet with the firm. It was a Thursday. If she could get a bunch of her neighbors to sign letters of interest in the pilot by Monday, she told the company, then “you’re gonna copy and paste that trailer park proposal and say there’s gonna be one for brownstones.”
Needless to say, she got the letters. But Liu didn’t just get the Levy Partnership to expand its proposal or to include her brownstone in the pilot. She convinced it to hire her to help implement the projects. She had looked up the census data on home heating and saw that about half the boilers in the New York City area used expensive heating oil. “I was like, there’s the money,” she told me. She saw that people could lower their bills by switching to heat pumps, while also getting access to better cooling in the summertime. “The business opportunity was just like when I got into satellite, right? It was a transition,” she said.
A week after she and the firm co-submitted their proposal to NYSERDA, Liu incorporated her new company under the name Centsible House. (Her business now goes by the name Carta Electric Homes.) NYSERDA awarded the team the funding a few months later, and by March 2017 they were executing agreements with homeowners to participate. The pilot ran for two years and installed heat pumps in 20 homes throughout Brooklyn, Queens, the Bronx, and Long Island, including Liu’s brownstone. Learnings from those projects informed the development of New York’s statewide Clean Heat program, a partnership between utilities and the state that launched in 2020, offering rebates for heat pumps. Liu was “patient zero,” she told me.
After that, NYSERDA as well as ConEd and another local utility, National Grid, hired Liu for other demonstration projects and heat pump programs. She racked up more than a dozen trainings and certifications from the Building Performance Institute, the Environmental Protection Agency, and various equipment manufacturers, developing expertise in building envelopes, heat pumps, refrigerant systems, and health and safety.
In this piecemeal way, Liu created the job of the electrification contractor from the ground up. By the time ConEd was preparing to launch the Electric Advantage program, Liu had the only contracting business in the area that was essentially purpose-built to take it on.
On a recent Thursday morning in Croton, New York, a suburb of New York City, the show was behind schedule. Liu and I pulled up to a two-family house at the top of a hill to oversee what was supposed to be the “grand finale” day of an Electric Advantage-funded retrofit.
In this case, workers had already put in a new electrical panel, minisplit heat pumps, and a heat pump clothes dryer. Now, electricians would rewire the kitchens with 220-volt outlets for new induction stoves, while a father and son duo of plumbers would put heat pump water heaters in the basement, and a weatherization team would spray insulation around the perimeter of the basement roof and attic floor.
While still sitting in the driveway, Liu called PC Richard, the appliance store, to check on the stove delivery, but the sales rep on the other end was confused — she didn’t have anything scheduled. Liu kept her cool and worked it out, setting a new delivery date for the following day. She turned to me, with sympathy, to let me know this meant I wouldn’t get the denouement she had promised — the cutting and capping of the gas line. She made sure the plumbers could come back on Friday to finish the job.
The planning for this project began many months before, with a knock on the door from a man named Mark Brescia, who manages Electric Advantage for ConEd. Brescia does all the initial outreach, making house calls, phone calls, and sending emails, trying to sell homeowners on the idea. Part of the challenge is that in most cases, unless 100% of the buildings served by a given gas main agree to participate, the company can’t move forward because it won’t be able to retire the pipe. The majority of successful Electric Advantage projects to date have replaced gas mains that were serving a single building.
The company doesn’t sell the program to customers by talking about climate change or emissions. Instead, Brescia explains that the money that would have been spent digging up a gas pipeline could instead be used to buy them brand new appliances. “Customers are excited about the opportunity to make their everyday living more comfortable,” Brescia told me when I asked what the biggest selling point tended to be. They also “no longer worry about having to spend money to replace equipment when it fails.” If the building owner is interested, the next step is for them to schedule a visit from Liu, who does a site evaluation and budgets the job.
Survey data collected by ConEd shows that the most common reason customers decline to participate is a preference for gas cooking. The second is fear of higher electric bills. ConEd makes no guarantees to customers that their overall bills will go down if they participate, but by pairing the new appliances with air sealing and insulation, it tries to ensure the homes will run as efficiently as possible. Liu does her best to provide customer education, walking them through how to operate their heat pumps correctly — running the devices consistently, rather than turning them up and down or on and off, which uses more energy. Customers can also opt in to a special ConEd electricity rate that can save heat pump customers money if they run their systems this way.
“Many customers are still learning about the superior performance and convenience these technologies offer,” Brescia said. But there are also other bottlenecks to expanding the Electric Advantage program. Under New York law, if customers want to keep their gas service, ConEd must oblige them. So unless and until legislators change this “duty to serve,” the program will be hamstrung by customers who turn it down.
The program also currently only targets replacement of leak-prone “radial” mains — pipes that connect to the wider gas distribution system on just one end — as these can be removed without affecting system safety or reliability. The path to expanding it beyond these is uncertain because, as currently structured, that would start to put an untenable burden on customers.
Whether the money goes to a new gas main or a home electrification project, it comes from ConEd’s gas ratepayers through their bills. Whenever ConEd identifies a new batch of mains that meet the program’s specifications, it must submit a benefit-cost analysis to state regulators for approval to pursue the projects before it can begin reaching out to homeowners. In the most recent batch submitted to regulators, for example, replacing the 26 mains identified would have cost nearly $8 million, while the estimated cost of electrifying the buildings served was around $6 million, plus another $1 million in electric system upgrades. The latter is obviously a better deal for customers, even if, as an incentive, ConEd earns back part of the difference as a bonus — also paid for by customers.
Since gas customers pay for the program, it doesn’t totally solve the problem of a shrinking number of customers covering these major investments, even if they are spending less than they otherwise would. And once the most cost-effective projects get taken care of, the expense of electrification will be harder to justify.
Growing the program also depends on having more contractors like Liu to implement it, Brescia told me. Liu has a proven track record of coordinating multiple trades, upholding standards, and educating customers. “Delivering an exceptional customer experience is essential to building trust and driving widespread adoption of electric appliances,” he said.
Throughout the day that I spent with her, Liu vacillated over the question of whether she should or even could expand her business. Working alone enables her to keep costs down, she told me. “I cannot afford to hire additional people,” she said, “because every extra bit of cash flow I end up generating as a profit gets fed to more jobs” — that is, more electrification projects. She also doesn’t want to take on a bunch of high interest debt in order to front more capital to take on more projects.
At other points, she talked about scaling as both important and inevitable. She believes in whole-home electrification — both as a climate solution and as a way to change people’s lives for the better — and wants to see other entrepreneurs like her, especially women, be able to pursue this as a career. She already gets more job leads than she’s able to pursue. She’s starting to think about other fundraising options, such as finding private investors.
Liu also recently started working with a Columbia University masters student to develop software that would help manage and automate all of the “mind-numbing, insane amounts of reporting, submissions, and invoicing” she has to do. Although she already does all of the administrative work digitally, the process has only gotten more arduous as the various programs and companies she works with frequently change what and how she has to report back, whether due to shifting policies or just a round of McKinsey-ification. This is part of what prevents her from being able to take on more work, since all the bureaucratic overhead makes it harder for her to fully close a job and get paid.
Although it’s still very early in the process, her hope is that this kind of software solution could also make it easier for others to get into the field.
“I actually really think this is a very suitable career for every eight-year-old little girl who wants a Barbie’s dream house,” she told me. “If every woman can run a $10 million electrification business, it’d be great. I think we’ll get a lot more done.”
Current conditions: Everywhere from the Midwest to New York City are bracing for snow today • The death toll from flooding in Southeast Asia has eclipsed 1,000 • Temperatures of 95 degrees Fahrenheit in French Guiana, the westernmost border of the European Union, have broken December records.
Data centers’ projected electricity demand has grown so much in the last seven months that BloombergNEF increased its forecast by nearly 40%. In a new analysis published Monday, the consultancy estimated that power demand from U.S. data centers will surge to 106 gigawatts by 2035. That’s 36% higher than BloombergNEF’s outlook published in April, “illustrating just how quickly the sector is expanding,” the consultancy wrote.
The finding illustrates the key challenge facing the grid as data centers complete construction far faster than new gas turbines, nuclear reactors, or even solar panels can be built and patched onto the grid. That reality has put new value on the ability of data centers to power down when the grid is overtaxed, a process Heatmap’s Matthew Zeitlin described as “one weird trick for getting more data centers on the grid.” It also shows why data centers are becoming so politically contentious that the “backlash,” as our colleague Jael Holzman put it, “is swallowing American politics.”
Back in August, I told you about how the Federal Emergency Management Agency suspended staffers who signed onto a letter criticizing President Donald Trump’s plans to gut the agency. Now the Trump administration has reinstated 14 employees placed on administrative leave after their signatures on a letter addressed to Congress were considered “misconduct.” In notices sent to the workers last week, which The New York Times reviewed, FEMA said the “misconduct investigation has been closed, and as a result you are being removed from administrative leave.” The notices did not disclose the probe’s findings, and FEMA’s parent agency, the Department of Homeland Security, didn’t respond to the newspaper’s questions.
The move comes as Illinois Governor JB Pritzker accuses Trump of politicizing disaster relief. The billionaire Democrat, who is widely discussed as a potential presidential candidate in 2028, said the White House rejected two separate requests for $130 million to help households affected by storms in late July and mid-August. E&E News called the denial “unusual” since “the damage documented by the administration was at such a high level that it would routinely lead to a presidential approval for disaster aid.”
The National Renewable Energy Laboratory is dead. Long live the National Laboratory of the Rockies. The lab’s focus on clean energy wasn’t unique. Nuclear power, for example, benefits from receiving the primary focus at sites such as the Idaho, Argonne, and Oak Ridge national laboratories. But the Department of Energy said Monday that the rebranding was part of an effort to broaden NREL’s scope. “The energy crisis we face today is unlike the crisis that gave rise to NREL,” Assistant Secretary of Energy Audrey Robertson, a key deputy of Secretary of Energy Chris Wright (whose unique professional history with Wright I wrote about last week), said in a statement. “We are no longer picking and choosing energy sources. Our highest priority is to invest in the scientific capabilities that will restore American manufacturing, drive down costs, and help this country meet its soaring energy demand. The National Lab of the Rockies will play a vital role in those efforts.”
In its press release, the Energy Department said NREL was formed amid the 1973 oil crisis and that the new name “reflects the Trump Administration’s broader vision for the lab’s applied energy research, which historically emphasized alternative and renewable sources of generation, and honors the natural splendor of the lab’s surroundings in Golden, Colorado.”
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In March, the Trump administration approved a $5 billion loan aimed to help restart the French oil giant TotalEnergies’ controversial liquified natural gas project in Mozambique. Though the project initially had international support, the southeast African nation has faced ongoing challenges from extreme weather and an Islamist insurgency, which mounted a deadly terrorist attack that caused work on the project to shut down in 2021. Troops from Rwanda have since come in to secure the area.
On Monday, however, the British government decided to pull its $1.15 billion loan, the Financial Times reported. Initially approved in 2020, the public financing faced fierce pushback from environmental and human rights groups. The Netherlands also announced Monday that it would stop backing the project.
Direct air capture is going big in Japan. On Tuesday morning, the U.S. carbon removal startup Heirloom announced investments from the Development Bank of Japan and Chiyoda Corporation, building on $150 million in Series B funding the company closed last year. That financing round also included investments from Japan Airlines, the industrial giant Mitsubishi Corporation, and the trading behemoth Mitsui & Co. The move comes as Japan’s greenhouse gas-trading system is poised to shift from voluntary participation to mandatory compliance next year, becoming Asia’s second-largest carbon market.
Heirloom had planned to build a giant DAC facility in Shreveport, Louisiana, as Heatmap’s Katie Brigham reported last year. But as our colleague Emily Pontecorvo wrote in October, the Trump administration looks poised to slash federal funding to support construction of DAC plants, making the fate of the Shreveport project unclear.
In the race to develop next-generation technology to harvest water straight out of the air, AirJoule Technologies has a promising lead. The GE Vernova-backed startup is already publicly traded and has deals with major industrial giants such as appliance maker Carrier. Now the company has inked a deal with a hyperscaler to sell water to cool data centers and use waste heat from the servers to power production of that same water. In a press release, the data center company, Nexus Data Centers, said AirJoule’s “waste-heat-to-water approach provides a superior solution by utilizing thermal energy we are already generating to produce high purity water for electricity production and cooling systems.”
Editor’s note: This article has been updated to correct the relationship of the new investments in Heirloom to its previous funding round.