You’re out of free articles.
Log in
To continue reading, log in to your account.
Create a Free Account
To unlock more free articles, please create a free account.
Sign In or Create an Account.
By continuing, you agree to the Terms of Service and acknowledge our Privacy Policy
Welcome to Heatmap
Thank you for registering with Heatmap. Climate change is one of the greatest challenges of our lives, a force reshaping our economy, our politics, and our culture. We hope to be your trusted, friendly, and insightful guide to that transformation. Please enjoy your free articles. You can check your profile here .
subscribe to get Unlimited access
Offer for a Heatmap News Unlimited Access subscription; please note that your subscription will renew automatically unless you cancel prior to renewal. Cancellation takes effect at the end of your current billing period. We will let you know in advance of any price changes. Taxes may apply. Offer terms are subject to change.
Subscribe to get unlimited Access
Hey, you are out of free articles but you are only a few clicks away from full access. Subscribe below and take advantage of our introductory offer.
subscribe to get Unlimited access
Offer for a Heatmap News Unlimited Access subscription; please note that your subscription will renew automatically unless you cancel prior to renewal. Cancellation takes effect at the end of your current billing period. We will let you know in advance of any price changes. Taxes may apply. Offer terms are subject to change.
Create Your Account
Please Enter Your Password
Forgot your password?
Please enter the email address you use for your account so we can send you a link to reset your password:
I got DER-pilled at DERVOS 2023.

The hottest ticket in Brooklyn last week wasn’t for an indie rock show or a buzzy new restaurant. It was for the most niche, nerdiest clean energy conference of the year — the sold-out DERVOS 2023.
The conference name — a satirical play on Davos, a stuffy, World Economic Forum event attended by governmental and business elites — tells you much of what you need to know about this irreverent subculture of the climate movement. A teaser video for DERVOS described it as a “rad clean energy summit … where youths get DER-pilled and the hot takes haven’t been approved by PR.”
To translate, DERVOS is for people who are stoked about a category of technologies known as “distributed energy resources,” or DERs. They encompass pretty much any device that can generate or store energy, or use energy flexibly, at the scale of a single building, like rooftop solar panels, batteries, and smart thermostats. This kind of tech has historically been written off as less important than big projects like wind farms — “nice-to-haves” but incapable of cutting emissions at climate-relevant scales. But once you get DER-pilled, another vision for the future emerges.
Sign up to receive Heatmap’s best story in your inbox every day:
Imagine a solar panel on every roof, a battery in every basement, and a smart thermostat in every home. Now imagine these devices being aggregated and synchronized across neighborhoods, cities, or entire regions. If 5,000 batteries discharge at the same time, you’ve got the equivalent of a new power plant. If 5,000 smart thermostats turn the temperature up by a few degrees on a hot summer day, you can prevent a natural gas “peaker” plant from firing up. In that sense, DERs offer a potentially faster option for growing the electric grid than large-scale projects, and could provide significant savings — around $10 billion in avoided infrastructure costs by 2030, according to a recent Department of Energy report.
But that’s not all. To the DER-pilled, this future will also be a “better world, a higher performing world,” as James McGinniss, one of the organizers of DERVOS, put it. It’s a world where your heating and cooling and EV charging are orchestrated seamlessly to utilize the cleanest power at the lowest cost; where solar panels and batteries aren’t called upon to keep your lights on when the power goes out, because they are preventing system-wide blackouts from occurring in the first place.
“How many industries can you work on that are going to completely change the way one of our foundational systems works and flip it entirely on its head?” Nathaniel Teichman, a DER-pilled former financial analyst, told me at the conference. “I don’t think there’s anywhere else with such importance or at such an inflection point.”
To kick things off at DERVOS, McGinniss painted a picture of an industry on the verge of an explosion. “It feels like if DERs were the internet, it’s 1995,” he told the roughly 250-person crowd. “We’re very, very early in this. And I think there’s massive, massive growth coming to this space.”
The event was held at Newlab, a startup incubator located in a renovated shipbuilding warehouse in the Brooklyn Navy Yard. Unlike other energy summits, it’s not put on by a trade association or a professional organization. It’s organized by a loose collective called the DER Task Force, a bunch of enthusiasts who met on Twitter.
The story is a roadmap for movement-building in the modern age. It started in March 2019, when McGinniss posted a tweet asking if anyone in New York wanted to start a monthly happy hour to talk shop about distributed energy. “Like 30 people responded. And I had like 100 Twitter followers,” he told me.
The tweet led to a group message called “DG Beers” (for distributed generation) and eventually to a series of real life hangs. They got drinks. They went to see The Current War, a movie about the 19th century battle over which electrical current system would prevail. They had people give powerpoint presentations. When COVID-19 hit, they moved the monthly meetup to Zoom and started a podcast. The group blew up. “Suddenly we had people from like, South Africa and like, rural Alaska joining us,” said Duncan Campbell, another one of the original members.
Regulars at the meetups told me it was unlike other networking spaces. “What stands out the most is the atmosphere of strong opinions, weakly held,” said Kyle Baranko. “I think there’s a lot of people who are intellectuals, who like getting into the big picture and the small details. But they never take themselves too seriously.”
That’s also a fitting description of DERVOS, which covered broad, heady topics like the concept of “energy abundance” with a combination of deep expertise and lighthearted, often crude informality. “We need to double or triple the grid. That is crazy,” said Pier LaFarge, the CEO of a company called Sparkfund, during the first panel, which contemplated the potential for centralized grid planning. “That is like the technical challenge of the space race and the economic scale of the highway system. That is non-trivial, societal shit.”
During the next session, Andy Frank, founder of the home retrofit company Sealed, was talking about how DERs can help avoid the need to build transmission lines and power plants. “We need a — and this is a very technical term — a fuck-ton of DERs to try to avoid an even more fuck-ton of costs,” he said.
“Is it a metric fuckton?” Jesse Jenkins, an energy systems engineer from Princeton University and Heatmap contributor on the panel, shot back. The audience burst out laughing.
The conference skewed very white and male. Nicole Green, another founding member, speculated that it might be because that’s still the demographic at a lot of university engineering programs. Integrating DERs into the grid and into power markets is technologically complicated, and the community is largely made up of engineers.
When I asked other attendees to describe the vibe, one said it was “tech bro-ey, but better — not as toxic.” Another said “young and exciting.”
“It feels a little bit like the energy industry underground, in a way,” Baranko told me.
“There’s a rebellious, counter-establishment ethos within the DER community,” said Teichman, “both by the nature of what it is and the people it attracts.”
Part of that comes from the fact that these technologies challenge the monopoly utility model — the way that electricity has been generated and distributed and commoditized for decades through big, corporate power plants. The DER community also likes to push back on the narrative that tackling climate change requires sacrifice. “That’s also where the irreverence bleeds in,” said McGinniss. “It’s just like, this is an awesome, exciting future. That’s what we want people to feel.”
To illustrate the point, McGinniss and his friends organized a DERVOS afterparty with the first-ever “vehicle to rave” demonstration. Working with another group of DER-enthusiasts called the SOLARPUNKS, who specialize in sustainable event production, they used a Ford F-150 Lightning to power the sound system at an old fire station-turned-event space in lower Manhattan.
But this better, higher performing world is still mostly out of reach. “We’re mired in a lot of decades-old thinking at this point about DERs and how they can be a part of all of this,” Campbell told the audience at the start of the conference.
The obstacles preventing DERs from realizing their full potential was a major theme of the day. Frank talked about how DERs aren’t properly valued in energy markets. Leah Stokes, a political scientist from the University of California, lamented that utilities haven’t taken DERs seriously or integrated them into their resource planning. Jenkins suggested we regulate utilities differently so that they have more incentive to utilize DERs. Jen Downing, a senior advisor at the Department of Energy, said regulators need data showing that DERs are reliable.
Part of the problem is that there’s no DER industry association, no one advocating for funding or policy changes to support these solutions at the state or national level. During last year’s conference, Jigar Shah, a Department of Energy official and a sort of Godfather figure in the DER scene, pushed the community to be more ambitious. “You guys are left out of the narrative, and it’s just fun, it’s sort of like, 'oh that’s so cool, I’m glad that they’re doing that,’” he said, calling in to deliver the keynote speech from the car during his family vacation.
The DER Task Force took up Shah’s call to arms and decided to use its revenue from events and the podcast to hire Allison Bates Wannop, an energy lawyer, to work on policy full time. At this year’s DERVOS, Wannop announced the group’s initial plans, which include turning New York State into a DER “nirvana,” and a campaign to “occupy NARUC,” the association for utility regulators that holds triannual conferences, which are heavily attended by the natural gas industry.
Colleen Metelitsa, one of the founders of the Task Force, told me the current landscape for DERs was like the internet before the iPhone came out. There was a lot you could do with the existing technology, but the iPhone “proliferated so many things we do on the internet that we didn’t even think about.”
What else, besides raves powered by pick-up trucks, does the future hold?
Editor’s note: A previous version of this article misattributed a quote. It has since been corrected. We regret the error.
Read more about batteries and solar:
Why Batteries Might — Might! — Solve America’s Power-Line Shortage
Log in
To continue reading, log in to your account.
Create a Free Account
To unlock more free articles, please create a free account.
In practice, direct lithium extraction doesn’t quite make sense, but 2026 could its critical year.
Lithium isn’t like most minerals.
Unlike other battery metals such as nickel, cobalt, and manganese, which are mined from hard-rock ores using drills and explosives, the majority of the world’s lithium resources are found in underground reservoirs of extremely salty water, known as brine. And while hard-rock mining does play a major role in lithium extraction — the majority of the world’s actual production still comes from rocks — brine mining is usually significantly cheaper, and is thus highly attractive wherever it’s geographically feasible.
Reaching that brine and extracting that lithium — so integral to grid-scale energy storage and electric vehicles alike — is typically slow, inefficient, and environmentally taxing. This year, however, could represent a critical juncture for a novel process known as Direct Lithium Extraction, or DLE, which promises to be faster, cleaner, and capable of unlocking lithium across a wider range of geographies.
The traditional method of separating lithium from brine is straightforward but time-consuming. Essentially, the liquid is pumped through a series of vast, vividly colored solar evaporation ponds that gradually concentrate the mineral over the course of more than a year.
It works, but by the time the lithium is extracted, refined, and ready for market, both the demand and the price may have shifted significantly, as evidenced by the dramatic rise and collapse of lithium prices over the past five years. And while evaporation ponds are well-suited to the arid deserts of Chile and Argentina where they’re most common, the geology, brine chemistry, and climate of the U.S. regions with the best reserves are generally not amenable to this approach. Not to mention the ponds require a humongous land footprint, raising questions about land use and ecological degradation.
DLE forgoes these expansive pools, instead pulling lithium-rich brine into a processing unit, where some combination of chemicals, sorbents, or membranes isolate and extricate the lithium before the remaining brine gets injected back underground. This process can produce battery-grade lithium in a matter of hours or days, without the need to transport concentrated brine to separate processing facilities.
This tech has been studied for decades, but aside from a few Chinese producers using it in combination with evaporation ponds, it’s largely remained stuck in the research and development stage. Now, several DLE companies are looking to build their first commercial plants in 2026, aiming to prove that their methods can work at scale, no evaporation ponds needed.
“I do think this is the year where DLE starts getting more and more relevant,” Federico Gay, a principal lithium analyst at Benchmark Mineral Intelligence, told me.
Standard Lithium, in partnership with oil and gas major Equinor, aims to break ground this year on its first commercial facility in Arkansas’s lithium-rich Smackover Formation, while the startup Lilac Solution also plans to commence construction on a commercial plant at Utah’s Great Salt Lake. Mining giant Rio Tinto is progressing with plans to build a commercial DLE facility in Argentina, which is already home to one commercial DLE plant — the first outside of China. That facility is run by the French mining company Eramet, which plans to ramp production to full capacity this year.
If “prices are positive” for lithium, Gay said, he expects that the industry will also start to see mergers and acquisitions this year among technology providers and larger corporations such as mining giants or oil and gas majors, as “some of the big players will try locking in or buying technology to potentially produce from the resources they own.” Indeed, ExxonMobil and Occidental Petroleum are already developing DLE projects, while major automakers have invested, too.
But that looming question of lithium prices — and what it means for DLE’s viability — is no small thing. When EV and battery storage demand boomed at the start of the decade, lithium prices climbed roughly 10-fold through 2022 before plunging as producers aggressively ramped output, flooding the market just as EV demand cooled. And while prices have lately started to tick upward again, there’s no telling whether the trend will continue.
“Everyone seems to have settled on a consensus view that $20,000 a tonne is where the market’s really going to be unleashed,” Joe Arencibia, president of the DLE startup Summit Nanotech, told me, referring to the lithium extraction market in all of its forms — hard rock mining, traditional brine, and DLE. “As far as we’re concerned, a market with $14,000, $15,000 a tonne is fine and dandy for us.”
Lilac Solutions, the most prominent startup in the DLE space, expects that its initial Utah project — which will produce a relatively humble 5,000 metric tons of lithium per year — will be profitable even if lithium prices hit last year’s low of $8,300 per metric ton. That’s according to the company’s CEO Raef Sully, who also told me that because Utah’s reserves are much lower grade than South America’s, Lilac could produce lithium for a mere $3,000 to $3,500 in Chile if it scaled production to 15,000 or 20,000 metric tons per year.
What sets Lilac apart from other DLE projects is its approach to separating lithium from brine. Most companies are pursuing adsorption-based processes, in which lithium ions bind to an aluminum-based sorbent, which removes them from surrounding impurities. But stripping the lithium from the sorbent generally requires a good deal of freshwater, which is not ideal given that many lithium-rich regions are parched deserts.
Lilac’s tech relies on an ion-exchange process in which small ceramic beads selectively capture lithium ions from the brine in their crystalline structure, swapping them for hydrogen ions. “The crystal structure seems to have a really strong attraction to lithium and nothing else,” Sully told me. Acid then releases the concentrated lithium. When compared with adsorption-based tech, he explained, this method demands far fewer materials and is “much more selective for lithium ions versus other ions,” making the result purer and thus cheaper to process into a battery-grade material.
Because adsorption-based DLE is already operating commercially and ion-exchange isn’t, Lilac has much to prove with its first commercial facility, which is expected to finalize funding and begin construction by the middle of this year.
Sully estimates that Lilac will need to raise around $250 million to build its first commercial facility, which has already been delayed due to the price slump. The company’s former CEO and current CTO Dave Snydacker told me in 2023 that he expected to commence commercial operations by the end of 2024, whereas now the company plans to bring its Utah plant online at the end of 2027 or early 2028.
“Two years ago, with where the market was, nobody was going to look at that investment,” Sully explained, referring to its commercial plant. Investors, he said, were waiting to see what remained after the market bottomed out, which it now seems to have done. Lilac is still standing, and while there haven’t yet been any public announcements regarding project funding, Sully told me he’s confident that the money will come together in time to break ground in mid-2026.
It also doesn’t hurt that lithium prices have been on the rise for a few months, currently hovering around $20,000 per tonne. Gay thinks prices are likely to stabilize somewhere in this range, as stakeholders who have weathered the volatility now have a better understanding of the market.
At that price, hard rock mining would be a feasible option, though still more expensive than traditional evaporation ponds and far above what DLE producers are forecasting. And while some mines operated at a loss or mothballed their operations during the past few years, Gay thinks that even if prices stabilize, hard-rock mines will continue to be the dominant source of lithium for the foreseeable future due to sustained global investment across Africa, Brazil, Australia, and parts of Asia. The price may be steeper, but the infrastructure is also well-established and the economics are well-understood.
“I’m optimistic and bullish about DLE, but probably it won’t have the impact that it was thought about two or three years ago,” Gay told me, as the hype has died down and prices have cooled from their record high of around $80,000 per tonne. By 2040, Benchmark forecasts that DLE will make up 15% to 20% of the lithium market, with evaporation ponds continuing to be a larger contributor for the next decade or so, primarily due to the high upfront costs of DLE projects and the time required for them to reach economies of scale.
On average, Benchmark predicts that this tech will wind up in “the high end of the second quartile” of the cost curve, making DLE projects a lower mid-cost option. “So it’s good — not great, good. But we’ll have some DLE projects in the first quartile as well, so competing with very good evaporation assets,” Gay told me.
Unsurprisingly, the technology companies themselves are more bullish on their approach. Even though Arencibia predicts that evaporation ponds will continue to be about 25% cheaper, he thinks that “the majority of future brine projects will be DLE,” and that DLE will represent 25% or more of the future lithium market.
That forecast comes in large part because Chile — the world’s largest producer of lithium from brine — has stated in its National Lithium Strategy that all new projects should have an “obligatory requirement” to use novel, less ecologically disruptive production methods. Other nations with significant but yet-to-be exploited lithium brine resources, such as Bolivia, could follow suit.
Sully is even more optimistic, predicting that as lithium demand grows from about 1.5 million metric tons per year to around 3.5 million metric tons by 2035, the majority of that growth will come from DLE. “I honestly believe that there will be no more hard rock mines built in Australia or the U.S.,” he said, telling me that in ten years time, half of our lithium supply could “easily” come from DLE.
As a number of major projects break ground this year and the big players start consolidating, we’ll begin to get a sense of whose projections are most realistic. But it won’t be until some of these projects ramp up commercial production in the 2028 to 2030 timeframe that DLE’s market potential will really crystalize.
“If you’re not a very large player at the moment, I think it’s very difficult for you to proceed,” Sully told me, reflecting on how lithium’s price shocks have rocked the industry. Even with lithium prices ticking precariously upwards now, the industry is preparing for at least some level of continued volatility and uncertainty.
“Long term, who knows what [prices are] going to be,” Sully said. “I’ve given up trying to predict.”
A chat with CleanCapital founder Jon Powers.
This week’s conversation is with Jon Powers, founder of the investment firm CleanCapital. I reached out to Powers because I wanted to get a better understanding of how renewable energy investments were shifting one year into the Trump administration. What followed was a candid, detailed look inside the thinking of how the big money in cleantech actually views Trump’s war on renewable energy permitting.
The following conversation was lightly edited for clarity.
Alright, so let’s start off with a big question: How do investors in clean energy view Trump’s permitting freeze?
So, let’s take a step back. Look at the trend over the last decade. The industry’s boomed, manufacturing jobs are happening, the labor force has grown, investments are coming.
We [Clean Capital] are backed by infrastructure life insurance money. It’s money that wasn’t in this market 10 years ago. It’s there because these are long-term infrastructure assets. They see the opportunity. What are they looking for? Certainty. If somebody takes your life insurance money, and they invest it, they want to know it’s going to be there in 20 years in case they need to pay it out. These are really great assets – they’re paying for electricity, the panels hold up, etcetera.
With investors, the more you can manage that risk, the more capital there is out there and the better cost of capital there is for the project. If I was taking high cost private equity money to fund a project, you have to pay for the equipment and the cost of the financing. The more you can bring down the cost of financing – which has happened over the last decade – the cheaper the power can be on the back-end. You can use cheaper money to build.
Once you get that type of capital, you need certainty. That certainty had developed. The election of President Trump threw that into a little bit of disarray. We’re seeing that being implemented today, and they’re doing everything they can to throw wrenches into the growth of what we’ve been doing. They passed the bill affecting the tax credits, and the work they’re doing on permitting to slow roll projects, all of that uncertainty is damaging the projects and more importantly costs everyone down the road by raising the cost of electricity, in turn making projects more expensive in the first place. It’s not a nice recipe for people buying electricity.
But in September, I went to the RE+ conference in California – I thought that was going to be a funeral march but it wasn’t. People were saying, Now we have to shift and adjust. This is a huge industry. How do we get those adjustments and move forward?
Investors looked at it the same way. Yes, how will things like permitting affect the timeline of getting to build? But the fundamentals of supply and demand haven’t changed and in fact are working more in favor of us than before, so we’re figuring out where to invest on that potential. Also, yes federal is key, but state permitting is crucial. When you’re talking about distributed generation going out of a facility next to a data center, or a Wal-Mart, or an Amazon warehouse, that demand very much still exists and projects are being built in that middle market today.
What you’re seeing is a recalibration of risk among investors to understand where we put our money today. And we’re seeing some international money pulling back, and it all comes back to that concept of certainty.
To what extent does the international money moving out of the U.S. have to do with what Trump has done to offshore wind? Is that trade policy? Help us understand why that is happening.
I think it’s not trade policy, per se. Maybe that’s happening on the technology side. But what I’m talking about is money going into infrastructure and assets – for a couple of years, we were one of the hottest places to invest.
Think about a European pension fund who is taking money from a country in Europe and wanting to invest it somewhere they’ll get their money back. That type of capital has definitely been re-evaluating where they’ll put their money, and parallel, some of the larger utility players are starting to re-evaluate or even back out of projects because they’re concerned about questions around large-scale utility solar development, specifically.
Taking a step back to something else you said about federal permitting not being as crucial as state permitting–
That’s about the size of the project. Huge utility projects may still need federal approvals for transmission.
Okay. But when it comes to the trendline on community relations and social conflict, are we seeing renewable energy permitting risk increase in the U.S.? Decrease? Stay the same?
That has less to do with the administration but more of a well-structured fossil fuel campaign. Anti-climate, very dark money. I am not an expert on where the money comes from, but folks have tried to map that out. Now you’re even seeing local communities pass stuff like no energy storage [ordinances].
What’s interesting is that in those communities, we as an industry are not really present providing facts to counter this. That’s very frustrating for folks. We’re seeing these pass and honestly asking, Who was there?
Is the federal permitting freeze impacting investment too?
Definitely.
It’s not like you put money into a project all at once, right? It happens in these chunks. Let’s say there’s 10 steps for investing in a project. A little bit of money at step one, more money at step two, and it gradually gets more until you build the project. The middle area – permitting, getting approval from utilities – is really critical to the investments. So you’re seeing a little bit of a pause in when and how we make investments, because we sometimes don’t know if we’ll make it to, say, step six.
I actually think we’ll see the most impact from this in data center costs.
Can you explain that a bit more for me?
Look at northern Virginia for a second. There wasn’t a lot of new electricity added to that market but you all of the sudden upped demand for electricity by 20 percent. We’re literally seeing today all these utilities putting in rate hikes for consumers because it is literally a supply-demand question. If you can’t build new supply, it's going to be consumers paying for it, and even if you could build a new natural gas plant – at minimum that will happen four-to-six years from now. So over the next four years, we’ll see costs go up.
We’re building projects today that we invested in two years ago. That policy landscape we invested in two years ago hasn’t changed from what we invested into. But the policy landscape then changed dramatically.
If you wipe out half of what was coming in, there’s nothing backfilling that.
Plus more on the week’s biggest renewables fights.
Shelby County, Indiana – A large data center was rejected late Wednesday southeast of Indianapolis, as the takedown of a major Google campus last year continues to reverberate in the area.
Dane County, Wisconsin – Heading northwest, the QTS data center in DeForest we’ve been tracking is broiling into a major conflict, after activists uncovered controversial emails between the village’s president and the company.
White Pine County, Nevada – The Trump administration is finally moving a little bit of renewable energy infrastructure through the permitting process. Or at least, that’s what it looks like.
Mineral County, Nevada – Meanwhile, the BLM actually did approve a solar project on federal lands while we were gone: the Libra energy facility in southwest Nevada.
Hancock County, Ohio – Ohio’s legal system appears friendly for solar development right now, as another utility-scale project’s permits were upheld by the state Supreme Court.