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How Biden can enlist the armed forces to build power lines and fix America’s electric grid

After a summer of extreme heat, deadly wildfires, flash floods, and other foreboding harbingers of a warming planet, President Biden is once again facing pressure to (officially) declare a climate emergency. Activists have pressed him to unlock emergency powers to reinstate a ban on crude oil exports and suspend offshore drilling leases, among other measures.
But there’s another, less remarked emergency lever Biden could pull that may prove even more consequential for our clean energy transition: empowering the military to help expedite the construction of electrical grid infrastructure we need to rapidly decarbonize.
The grid is the foundation of our strategy to take on climate change. The plan is to “electrify everything” — from cars, to homes, to factories — and to run everything on electricity generated from clean energy sources like wind and solar instead of fossil fuels. But that means we’ll need to upgrade the grid to meet increased demand for electricity, and build more transmission lines to carry clean energy from the windiest and sunniest parts of the country to major population centers.
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We’re in trouble on both fronts. Our antiquated grid has too little capacity to accommodate all of the wind and solar energy facilities we need. That has left many proposed renewable projects in a lurch waiting years to come online, while those that can connect contend with “congestion” from an overloaded system. Plus, a gauntlet of permits and multistate regulatory approvals means that building new large transmission lines can take a decade or more. A new transmission line to carry primarily renewable energy from New Mexico to California and Arizona just got the okay to start building from the Bureau of Land Management this spring, seventeen years after it was first proposed.
We need to build out the grid — and do so quickly — if we have any hope of meeting our climate goals. The 2021 Bipartisan Infrastructure Law invested billions to modernize the grid, but Congress has done little to address the regulatory roadblocks that make building so arduous. Meanwhile, the Biden administration is pursuing regulatory action to help.
However, a surprising source of emergency power could bolster the administration’s tools to ready the electrical grid for the new green energy era. A 1982 law called the Military Construction Codification Act states that when the president declares a national emergency “that requires use of the armed forces, the Secretary of Defense, without regard to any other provision of law, may undertake military construction projects … not otherwise authorized by law that are necessary to support such use of the armed forces.”
This authority could be used to improve and expand the electrical grid, according to a law review article by Professor (and former Navy commander) Mark Nevitt at Emory University School of Law. Climate-related natural disasters have increasingly required the use of the military for rescue and relief operations: in 2022 alone, half of all National Guard members were involved in lifesaving responses in the wake of wildfires, storms, and floods. And extreme weather and grid instability are a threat to military operations: military bases don’t have their own power plants, and draw energy from the grid like everyone else. Bases have gone dark and been damaged by floods and wildfires in recent years, and many have been running drills to prepare for extended power outages from climate disasters. A stronger, climate-resilient grid is necessary for a military summoned to respond to the ravages of climate change.
This gives the administration “credible but untested authority,” Nevitt told me, to invoke a military need to enhance our electrical grid under a climate emergency. That authority could be used, for example, to upgrade sections of the grid directly adjacent to the country’s 450 domestic military installations.
Because each state has at least one military installation, the Biden administration would have ample flexibility in picking strategic locations to make grid upgrades. While building far-flung power lines with little connection to a military site may stretch the bounds of the law, the interconnected nature of the grid should give the administration some leeway — for instance, to help build a transmission line that feeds into a military-adjacent portion of the grid to provide that base with more secure and abundant access to power. By way of example, the Continental Connector — a proposed 500-mile transmission line that aims to unite two grid systems by linking Kansas with New Mexico by the 2030s — could help shore up energy reliability for nearby military sites like Kirtland Air Force Base, and thereby could warrant emergency military construction assistance.
While the primary purpose would be to improve grid reliability for the military, those upgrades would of course also benefit the surrounding communities. That in turn would help strengthen our overall capacity for clean energy deployment.
This emergency construction authority was most notoriously invoked by President Trump in an attempt to build his border wall. In 2019, Trump declared a national emergency on the southern border, and instructed the Defense Department to use emergency military construction authority to begin building several sections of a border wall. This order was ultimately rejected in court on the grounds that the border wall — which was to be located hundreds of miles away from the closest military base — was not necessary to support the use of the armed forces, and was not truly a military-related project.
It’s possible that Biden’s green grid may too run into a buzzsaw in the federal courts. But building energy infrastructure that will be used by the military seems much more tethered to the spirit of the law than constructing a distant anti-immigrant barricade. Moreover, military prerogatives to address a legitimate need for a reliable energy supply ought to get deference from the courts. Biden could also opt for a narrower emergency declaration less sweeping than climate change but more likely to survive in the courts, like grid resilience — an emergency that is particularly salient in the wake of the devastating Maui fires.
Biden also could turbocharge emergency grid construction by bypassing normal regulatory requirements. The Military Construction Codification Act empowers the Defense Department to act “without regard to any other provision of law,” giving it authority to overcome other impediments in federal, state, and local law (much like similar preemptive language in the Defense Production Act that I’ve written about). After Trump’s border wall order, the Defense Department issued a memorandum initiating construction “without regard to any other provision of law that could impede such expeditious construction in response to the national emergency,” including “the National Environmental Policy Act, the Endangered Species Act, ... [and] the Clean Water Act.” Taking the same tack could expedite grid construction, but Biden would face major pressure from political allies to forgo this power. Yet at minimum, an emergency declaration would streamline the NEPA process and trigger waivers and exemptions under other environmental laws.
We can’t electrify our way to net-zero emissions without a grid up to the task. So building that grid is one of the most pressing tasks we face. If Biden does take the step of formally declaring a climate emergency, putting the might of the U.S. military toward that critical mission would be an awfully good response.
Read more about the electric grid:
An Eye-Opening Projection About America’s Clean Energy Future
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In some ways, fossil fuels make snowstorms like the one currently bearing down on the U.S. even more dangerous.
The relationship between fossil fuels and severe weather is often presented as a cause-and-effect: Burning coal, oil, and gas for heat and energy forces carbon molecules into a reaction with oxygen in the air to form carbon dioxide, which in turn traps heat in the atmosphere and gradually warms our planet. That imbalance, in many cases, makes the weather more extreme.
But this relationship also goes the other way: We use fossil fuels to make ourselves more comfortable — and in some cases, keep us alive — during extreme weather events. Our dependence on oil and gas creates a grim ouroboros: As those events get more extreme, we need more fuel.
This weekend, some 200 million Americans will be cranking up the thermostats in their natural-gas-heated homes, firing up their propane generators, or hitting icy roads in their combustion-engine cars as a major winter storm brings record-low temperatures to 35 states, knocks out power, and grinds air travel to a halt.
Climate change deniers love to use major winter storms as “proof” that global warming isn’t real. But in the case of this weekend’s polar vortex, there is evidence that Arctic warming is responsible for the record cold temperature projections across the United States.
“In the Arctic, in the winter, the ocean is much, much warmer than the atmosphere,” Judah Cohen, a climatologist at MIT and the author of a 2021 paper linking Arctic variability to extreme weather in the U.S., told me. Sea ice acts as an insulating layer separating the warmer ocean water from the frigid air. But as it melts — as it is doing every month of the year — “all of this heat can now be extracted out of the ocean.” The reduced temperature difference between the ocean and atmosphere creates wavy high-pressure ridges and low-pressure troughs that are favorable to the formation of polar vortices, which can funnel extreme cold air down over North America, as they seemingly did over Texas in 2021’s Winter Storm Uri, when 246 people died.
The exact mechanisms and interactions of this phenomenon are still up for debate. “I am in the minority that argues that there is causal link between a warm Arctic and cold continents,” Cohen added to me via email. “Most others argue that it is a coincidental relationship.” Still, scientists generally agree that extreme cold events will persist in a warming world; they’ll just become rarer.
Cold kills more people in the United States than heat, but curiously, warmer winters aren’t likely to significantly reduce these seasonal deaths. That’s because about half of the cases of excess mortality in winter are from cardiovascular diseases, which are, by nature, “highly seasonal,” Kristie Ebi, a professor of global health at the University of Washington, told me. “Since people began studying these, there are more of them in the winter than there are in the summer.” Researchers still aren’t sure why that is — though since the 1940s, we’ve known that people’s blood pressure, cholesterol, and even blood viscosity go up during the colder and darker months, perhaps due to changes in diet or exercise. That also appears to be the case regardless of climate or temperature, holding true whether you’re in Yellowknife or Miami.
In other words, “if seasonal factors other than temperature are mainly responsible for winter excess mortality, then climate warming might have little benefit,” Patrick Kinney, the director of Columbia University’s Climate and Health Program, wrote in Environmental Research Letters back in 2015. Extreme heat-related deaths, by contrast, have no ceiling, meaning global warming will result in more temperature-related deaths than it will prevent.
Our anthropogenically warmer winters could even prove to be more deadly in certain ways. Dana Tobin is a researcher at the Cooperative Institute for Research in Environmental Sciences at the University of Colorado Boulder who studies how weather affects traffic accidents. She’s found that driving in freezing rain is more dangerous than driving in snow “because of the ice glaze that it can produce on surfaces, especially those that are untreated,” she told me. As winters become warmer, there will, counterintuitively, be more ice on roads in many places, since freezing rain requires a bit of warm air before it hits the ground and becomes black ice.
Researchers working in Scandinavia have similarly found that as the atmosphere warms and more days hover around freezing, “there is a higher risk of icy conditions … which may lead to a predisposition to falls and road traffic accidents.” (As I’ve previously reported, milder winters might also make us even more depressed than very cold ones.)
There is something slightly karmic about the fact that cars become increasingly unsafe as the planet, warmed by their emissions, becomes more hazardous. But this connection gets even bleaker when carbon monoxide poisoning is factored in.
On Thursday, the North American Electric Reliability Corporation issued a statement warning that “much of North America is at an elevated risk of having insufficient energy supplies to meet demand in extreme operating conditions,” including “advancing winter weatherization of power plants and fuel acquisition to enable operations during cold temperatures.” Heavy ice can also snap branches above power lines, causing local outages.
When the power goes out or the gas lines freeze, desperate people will do anything to stay warm. That includes, in tragic cases, running improperly vented generators or plugging in propane heaters indoors, which can produce odorless and colorless CO — instead of the usual water and carbon dioxide — when fossil fuels don’t burn correctly. Accidental carbon monoxide poisoning is on the rise in the United States due to the proliferation of such appliances amid increasingly frequent extreme weather events, jumping 86% between 2012 and 2022. That’s even as, worldwide, carbon monoxide poisoning is decreasing.
Snow and ice are among the most dangerous weather conditions in the U.S., and people should take warnings of “life-threatening conditions” at face value. Tobin, the traffic researcher, stressed that one of the best protections from winter weather hazards is knowledge alone. “I believe the best thing that we can do when it comes to messaging to protect drivers from hazards is to empower motorists to make educated and informed decisions for their own safety and the safety of others,” she told me.
Winter storms highlight the entangled nature of our dependence on fossil fuels. We can’t separate extreme weather events from the energy required to survive them. But the dark irony is that, as the planet becomes more volatile, the most dangerous fossil fuels might be the ones meant to keep us warm and get us back home.
The cloak-and-dagger approach is turning the business into a bogeyman.
It’s time to call it like it is: Many data center developers seem to be moving too fast to build trust in the communities where they’re siting projects.
One of the chief complaints raised by data center opponents across the country is that companies aren’t transparent about their plans, which often becomes the original sin that makes winning debates over energy or water use near-impossible. In too many cases, towns and cities neighboring a proposed data center won’t know who will wind up using the project, either because a tech giant is behind it and keeping plans secret or a real estate firm refuses to disclose to them which company it’ll be sold to.
Making matters worse, developers large and small are requiring city and county officials to be tight-lipped through non-disclosure agreements. It’s safe to say these secrecy contracts betray a basic sense of public transparency Americans expect from their elected representatives and they become a core problem that lets activists critical of the data center boom fill in gaps for the public. I mean, why trust facts and figures about energy and water if the corporations won’t be up front about their plans?
“When a developer comes in and there’s going to be a project that has a huge impact on a community and the environment – a place they call home – and you’re not getting any kind of answers, you can tell they’re not being transparent with you,” Ginny Marcille-Kerslake, an organizer for Food and Water Watch in Pennsylvania, told me in an interview this week. “There’s an automatic lack of trust there. And then that extends to their own government.”
Let’s break down an example Marcille-Kerslake pointed me to, where Talen Energy is seeking to rezone hundreds of acres of agricultural land in Montour County, Pennsylvania, for industrial facilities. Montour County is already a high risk area for any kind of energy or data center development, ranking in the 86th percentile nationally for withdrawn renewable energy projects (more than 10 solar facilities have been canceled here for various reasons). So it didn’t help when individuals living in the area began questioning if this was for Amazon Web Services, similar to other nearby Talen-powered data center projects in the area?
Officials wouldn’t – or couldn’t – say if the project was for Amazon, in part because one of the county commissioners signed a non-disclosure agreement binding them to silence. Subsequently, a Facebook video from an activist fighting the rezoning went viral, using emails he claimed were obtained through public records requests to declare Amazon “is likely behind the scenes” of the zoning request.
Amazon did not respond to my requests for comment. But this is a very familiar pattern to us now. Heatmap Pro data shows that a lack of transparency consistently ranks in the top five concerns people raise when they oppose data center projects, regardless of whether they are approved or canceled. Heatmap researcher Charlie Clynes explained to me that the issue routinely crops up in the myriad projects he’s tracked, down to the first data center ever logged into the platform – a $100 million proposal by a startup in Hood County, Oregon, that was pulled after a community uproar.
“At a high level, I have seen a lack of transparency become more of an issue. It makes people angry in a very unique way that other issues don’t. Not only will they think a project is going to be bad for a community, but you’re not even telling them, the key stakeholder, what is going on,” Clynes said. “It’s not a matter of, are data centers good or bad necessarily, but whether people feel like they’re being heard and considered. And transparency issues make that much more difficult.”
My interview with Marcille-Kerslake exemplified this situation. Her organization is opposed to the current rapid pace of data center build-out and is supporting opposition in various localities. When we spoke, her arguments felt archetypal and representative of how easily those who fight projects can turn secrecy into a cudgel. After addressing the trust issues with me, she immediately pivoted to saying that those exist because “at the root of it, this lack of transparency to the community” comes from “the fact that what they have planned, people don’t want.”
“The answer isn’t for these developers to come in and be fully transparent in what they want to do, which is what you’d see with other kinds of developments in your community. That doesn’t help them because what they’re building is not wanted.”
I’m not entirely convinced by her point, that the only reason data center developers are staying quiet is because of a likelihood of community opposition. In fairness, the tech sector has long operated with a “move fast, break things” approach, and Silicon Valley companies long worked in privacy in order to closely guard trade secrets in a competitive marketplace. I also know from my previous reporting that before AI, data center developers were simply focused on building projects with easy access to cheap energy.
However, in fairness to opponents, I’m also not convinced the industry is adequately addressing its trust deficit with the public. Last week, I asked Data Center Coalition vice president of state policy Dan Diorio if there was a set of “best practices” that his large data center trade organization is pointing to for community relations and transparency. His answer? People are certainly trying their best as they move quickly to build out infrastructure for AI, but no, there is no standard for such a thing.
“Each developer is different. Each company is different. There’s different sizes, different structures,” he said. “There’s common themes of open and public meetings, sharing information about water use in particular, helping put it in the proper context as well.”
He added: “I wouldn’t categorize that as industry best practice, [but] I think you’re seeing common themes emerge in developments around the country.”
Plus more of the week’s biggest renewable energy fights.
Cole County, Missouri – The Show Me State may be on the precipice of enacting the first state-wide solar moratorium.
Clark County, Ohio – This county has now voted to oppose Invenergy’s Sloopy Solar facility, passing a resolution of disapproval that usually has at least some influence over state regulator decision-making.
Millard County, Utah – Here we have a case of folks upset about solar projects specifically tied to large data centers.
Orange County, California – Compass Energy’s large battery project in San Juan Capistrano has finally died after a yearslong bout with local opposition.
Hillsdale County, Michigan – Here’s a new one: Two county commissioners here are stepping back from any decision on a solar project because they have signed agreements with the developer.