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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.
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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
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Americans paid $217 on average for electricity last month, according to Heatmap and MIT’s Electricity Price Hub.
July is typically the season of high electricity bills, and this year is no exception.
Nationally, the average electricity bill spiked to $217, an all-time high, according to new data from Heatmap and MIT’s Electricity Price Hub. That’s up from $177 in June, and $215 last July. Meanwhile, electricity rates were 19 cents per kilowatt-hour, virtually unchanged from June and slightly higher than July of last year.
Throughout the country, many ratepayers are seeing higher costs and charges in the portion of their bill covering the cost of power generation.
Once again, some of the most notable electricity price and bill trends were seen in the mid-Atlantic region, the heart of the data center boom and the anchor area of the PJM Interconnection. The region also includes Virginia, where Florida utility and energy developer NextEra is attempting to acquire the commonwealth’s dominant utility, Dominion.
In July, Dominion customers saw typical generation charges rise to $155 a month, up from $124 a year ago. Overall bills for Dominion customers were about $259 this past month.
The higher bills are in part due to the “fuel charge rider” that went into effect this past month to help recover about $1 billion in additional generation costs claimed by the utility. Those charges stem in part from higher fuel costs this past winter, when natural gas prices spiked to their highest level since the winter of 2022-23, Dominion officials said in a filing to the state’s utilities regulator. The MIT researchers estimate that the fuel charge added around $53 to July bills, up $12 from July of last year.
In neighboring Delaware, bills were $216 a month in July, a record high, while prices were around 19 cents per kilowatt-hour. Customers of the state’s main utility, Delmarva Power, saw a near 20% hike in the supply charge in their standard service offerings, as prices rose from around 16 cents per kilowatt-hour from last year.
The Delaware Public Service Commission voted at the beginning of last month to allow an interim rate increase of about $3 per month for the typical customer, which went into effect July 9. Soon after, Delaware Governor Matt Meyer signed a law giving the state’s regulators more discretion to reject putting certain utility costs into the rate base and thus limit subsequent price hikes requested by utilities. The governor’s office described the law as a mechanism “to prioritize prudent spending over unchecked cost recovery.”
The new vehicle — with a price tag just shy of $30,000, all in — represents the storied U.S. automaker’s big swing at winning entry-level buyers.
Ford’s electric moonshot, the mid-size pickup truck that would get it back into the EV race, finally has a name: Fathom.
The Detroit giant announced the name of its long-anticipated, highly mysterious vehicle on Thursday, alongside its price and some of its specs. The Ford Fathom will cost $28,350, not including delivery and destination fees that take its price right up to the 30-grand mark — $29,945, to be precise. Ford says it will start taking reservations early next year and deliver the first pickups later in 2027.
We don’t yet know the battery range or, crucially, what it’ll look like, as Ford is holding back the visual reveal. What we can say is that, as a mid-size pickup, the Fathom should be around the size of the gas-powered Ford Maverick, which has a near-identical starting price. Without getting into dimensions, Ford promises it will have more passenger volume than Toyota’s ubiquitous RAV4 SUV, with a frunk and a truck bed to boot.
Ford says every Fathom will be BlueCruise-capable, referencing the company’s hand-free driving assistant for highway travel. Fathom will also feature bi-directional power capability, enabling the battery to double as home energy storage, as well as embedded Apple Maps on its large touchscreen. Importantly, it will retain compatibility with Apple CarPlay and Android Auto, which has become a dealbreak for many drivers.
Fathom will be the first EV produced on Ford’s Universal EV Platform, the technology setup that has been under development at the company’s skunkworks operation in Long Beach, California. I visited there this spring to see the team that was, far from the glare of the suits in Detroit, trying to reinvent the company’s EV manufacturing strategies so it could make better and more affordable electric cars. Even then, though, I couldn’t get a look at the Fathom — or any other car designs that may or may not be under way there, as they were all still under wraps.
The skunkworks project is all about process. Ford was losing billions on its previous generation of EVs, led by the Ford F-150 Lightning and Mustang Mach-E, despite the relatively high sticker price of those cars. Engineers tried to mimic some of the stripped-down, iterative strategies of smaller firms and startups — such as stripping miles of wiring out of the vehicles — to work faster and simplify manufacturing, thereby cutting costs.
That work has allowed Ford to start the Fathom at effectively $30,000, placing it smack within the range of America’s most affordable electric vehicles. Its most obvious competitor would be the Slate EV truck, which has just begun to take reservations. Slate starts at about $25,000, but that price gets you a bare-bones pickup with roll-up windows and a plain gray exterior. Add enough a la carte features to make the truck technologically competitive with something like the Fathom and it, too, would cost around $30,000.
At the price, the Ford Fathom is also directly competitive with entry-level EVs like the new Chevy Bolt and Nissan Leaf. But as a mid-sized truck, Fathom would be more spacious and practical than a vehicle like a Bolt, while coming in well below the $35,000 starting cost of a bigger crossover like the Chevy Equinox EV.
Ford, in its announcement, ruminated on the meanings behind the “Fathom” moniker. The company wanted its crucial new EV to have a name, not an alphanumeric code like the Ford F-150. Fathom was chosen because of its twin meanings: the classical unit of measure for water depth, and the verb meaning to deeply and fully understand something.
The implication is that the Fathom EV is meant to comprehend the customer and what they want out of an electric truck. How Ford’s pickup measures up to their aspirations depends greatly on details about this vehicle that are not yet known. But just putting out a battery-powered pickup truck for under $30,000 is a great start.
Current conditions: The heat dome in the American Southwest is worsening, with temperatures in Phoenix set to climb as high as 110 degrees Fahrenheit • The wildfires in Greece have killed at least five people as thermometers in Athens near the triple digits • Sri Lanka’s sprawling capital of Colombo is in the midst of a week of intense thunderstorms.
The Department of Defense halted reviews of onshore wind projects in May on national security grounds, a move that my colleague Jael Holzman described at the time as “extrajudicial” and that would ultimately “murder an American industry.” Now the judiciary is getting involved. On Tuesday, U.S. District Judge Karin Immergut, a Trump appointee, indicated that she would likely find in favor of a coalition of renewable energy groups that sued the Trump administration to restart reviews. At the start of a two-hour hearing, Courthouse News Service reported from the federal courthouse in Portland, Oregon, Immergut said there was “strong evidence the government had violated statutory and regulatory deadlines” when the Pentagon stopped carrying out routine reviews needed to progress federal permits for wind turbines to the Federal Aviation Administration.

The Trump administration is preparing to impose new tariffs and minimum import prices on polysilicon in a bid to prop up a domestic supply chain for the primary ingredient in semiconductors and solar panels. The decision, due out after the market closes today, will set a tariff of at least 15% on imported polysilicon and set baseline prices for each component in the supply chain, from the raw material derived from purified quartz to solar wafers, cells, and modules, sources familiar with talks told me, confirming broad details first reported by Reuters and Bloomberg. The Department of Commerce plans to delay implementation to allow domestic manufacturers that rely on imported components time to adjust, and provide offsets to companies that make major investments in the U.S. The policy will serve as a key lifeline to solar manufacturers, who lost one of their main incentives to buy made-in-America panels when the investment and production tax credits for solar effectively ended last month. But industry sources told me that the new trade restrictions would likely fall short of incentivizing new manufacturing, and would require more support on the demand side. The dynamic mirrors what my colleague Matthew Zeitlin called the “paradox of Trump’s critical mineral crusade,” whereby the administration pulled out all the stops to boost mining of rare earths and lithium while eliminating the landmark electric vehicle tax credit that ensured a domestic market for those metals.
It’s hardly the only protectionism the Commerce Department is attempting this month. On Thursday, the agency plans to publish a temporary final rule that would block exports of battery scraps and tungsten waste without a special waiver from the Bureau of Industry and Security. Producers of the materials, E&E News reported, would be required to sell in the U.S. for one year. The move comes a week after President Donald Trump signed a memo blocking exports of mineral-rich waste as the White House seeks to shore up supplies of metals for weapons production. Tungsten, as the Bloomberg “Odd Lots” podcast explained nicely in a recent episode, has a very high melting point, making it ideal for artillery and ammunition. While it’s typically in demand in low amounts during peace time, soaring interest is a sign of widening global conflicts.
For retail investors, Oklo emerged as the face of the small modular reactor industry in 2024 after the Silicon Valley nuclear darling debuted on the stock market. But the company hadn’t yet split atoms. Last night, the company’s low-power test reactor in Texas sustained a reaction for the first time. The milestone makes Oklo the fifth company in the Department of Energy’s Reactor Pilot Program to achieve criticality, but the first to do so on private land. Oklo boasted that the company had erected the facility at a previously undeveloped greenfield site in less than a year, demonstrating that “American nuclear deployment timelines can be measured in months rather than years,” the company said in a press release.
The move comes five months after the Nuclear Regulatory Commission, which notoriously rejected Oklo’s first attempt at gaining approval for its power plant reactors, approved the company’s plans to produce medical isotopes from low-powered reactors, as I exclusively reported in this newsletter at the time.
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Two House Democrats formally referred Secretary of Energy Chris Wright to the Department of Justice for potential prosecution, accusing him of lying to Congress when asked whether the agency canceled green grants for partisan reasons. In a letter published Wednesday in The Hill, Representatives Zoe Lofgren of California and Gabe Amo of Rhode Island, alleged that Wright lied when he testified his blocking of billions in climate spending had nothing to do with the money going to states that voted for Democrat Kamala Harris in the 2024 election. In a federal lawsuit related to the same award terminations, Energy Department lawyers admitted that “the inclusion of grants in the October notice tranche was based solely on the political identity of the grant recipient’s state” Wright previously testified that politics had no role in the decisions. “Secretary Wright lied to the Committee with his statements, which sought to prevent us from learning the truth: that the October award terminations were an act of political retaliation,” Lofgren and Amo wrote in the letter, addressed to acting Attorney General Todd Blanche. “In doing so, he violated 18 USC §1001, which bars individuals from making ‘any materially false, fictitious, or fraudulent statement or representation’ to Congress. We have no choice but to refer Secretary Wright to the Department of Justice for potential prosecution in this matter.”
In 1978, the U.S. used millions more tons of coal than today. Yet miners in Appalachia are facing rates of pneumoconiosis — the incurable, fatal disease known as black lung — at exactly the same levels today. That’s the finding of new data published Wednesday in the American Journal of Respiratory and Critical Care Medicine. Miners in Kentucky, Virginia, and West Virginia who had spent at least 25 years working underground had by far the worst rates, with one in three testing positive in X-rays conducted by the National Institute for Occupational Safety and Health, a federal agency. “I’m disgusted,” Scott Laney, a NIOSH research epidemiologist who is the lead author of the research letter, told NPR. “This is not going to get better because of all the disease that’s already in the pipeline. These guys are being treated like disposable widgets, not human beings. … We’re watching them die right before our eyes.”
Your humble correspondent is due for a series of flights this afternoon. I lose little sleep over my personal carbon footprint; I don’t find it a useful metric, and even if I did, I live in New York City, so my family’s life in dense housing and reliance on public transit already places me well below most Americans. But I can’t help but think of it when I’m riding multiple planes in one day. Which makes this new Bloomberg feature so exciting. In Brazil’s Minas Gerais state, more than 200 researchers are working to commercialize jet fuel made from the oil-rich fruit of the macauba palm tree. Across 356,000 acres, the Abu Dhabi-based biofuels producer Acelen Renováveis plans to start processing macauba oil as part of a $3 billion project. The effort is meant to help the push to reduce airlines’ carbon intensity, but — as with biofuels in general — it’s worth considering the climate benefits with healthy doses of skepticism until detailed analyses come out.