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Unlike another prominent climate case, there’s only upside to Held v. Montana

When Lander Busse spoke to the press after closing arguments in Held v. Montana, a trailblazing youth-led climate case that wrapped on Tuesday, he sounded optimistic.
“It feels like the beginning, really,” Busse, who at 18 is one of the case’s older plaintiffs, said. “Our next step in the process is getting our decision, which we’re really optimistic about at this point. But [we’re] also hopefully starting … a trickle-down of other litigation and activism nationally that we’ve been able to spark here.”
A cynic might describe the optimism as misguided; the idea of kids suing to control their future has historically only been entertained in the world of fiction. And yet when I asked lawyers about the case, they had a very different take. Not only is it a smart case with a strong argument, they told me, but it has practically no downsides.
“I understand the skepticism,” said James May, a law professor at Delaware Law School and founder of its Global Environmental Rights Institute. “If even a year ago, you had called and asked what I thought the prospects were of a climate case going on trial like this, I would have said next to zero. But there’s no other case like it. Never has climate been put on trial like this.”
According to the Sabin Center for Climate Change Law at Columbia University, thousands of climate change-related cases have been filed in the United States. But, May told me, other than cases over administrative issues such as permitting, none of those cases made it to trial. The fact that the youth plaintiffs actually got their day in court is by itself a big deal.
Going to trial means the plaintiffs will be able to establish, in the public record, evidence about the causes and effects of climate change.
“There are two audiences,” said Rebecca Bratspies, a law professor at the City University of New York and the founding director of the Center for Urban Environmental Reform. “There’s one audience in the court, and getting a favorable ruling in court is important. But there’s also the wider context in terms of the social conversations about how to respond to the climate crisis. A decision for the plaintiffs in a very red state like Montana would be an extremely important message to the country as a whole.”
That message, it seems, is that the courts have a newfound appetite for climate cases in a way that didn’t exist before. Three weeks ago, a judge ruled that a different youth-led climate case, Juliana v. United States, could move forward after the case was amended in response to a dismissal in 2020. Both Held and Juliana are being represented by attorneys from Our Children’s Trust, an environmental group that filed similar youth-led lawsuits in every state. But the cases rest on very different legal theories.
The plaintiffs in Held v. Montana benefit from a very specific set of circumstances. In 1972, Montana held a constitutional convention that, among other things, guaranteed in the new constitution that “the state and each person shall maintain and improve a clean and healthful environment in Montana for present and future generations.”
That gives the plaintiffs strong constitutional ground to stand on, Bratspies told me.
Montana’s state government has leaned particularly hard into climate denialism: in 2011 the legislature amended the Montana Environmental Policy Act so that climate change couldn’t be factored into environmental reviews, and this May, in an attempt to render the Held lawsuit moot, it specifically added a provision to ban any consideration of greenhouse gas emissions in environmental reviews of energy projects. If Judge Kathy Seeley, who heard the arguments in Held v. Montana, rules in favor of the plaintiffs, she could say those changes were unconstitutional and that the state of Montana would have to start considering the impacts of climate change in permitting decisions.
Juliana rests on a different legal theory entirely. In that case, the plaintiffs are alleging the federal government is violating what’s known as the public trust doctrine — an idea that goes back as far as the Romans, which holds that when a state controls land, they act as a trustee and control it for the benefit of the people.
The public trust doctrine underlies the idea that the federal government manages both national waters and federal lands for the good of the people; according to Bratspies, Juliana would argue that the same idea extends to the atmosphere, and that therefore the government is neglecting its duties by not ensuring the atmosphere remains free of greenhouse gasses and therefore affected by climate change.
When litigating cases like these, there’s a constant weighing of the risks versus the rewards, and that calculus changes according to the makeup of the courts. Juliana, if it makes its way to the United States Supreme Court, would find itself in front of a conservative-majority court that as recently as last year struck a blow at the EPA’s ability to regulate climate change.
“There’s always a risk that the Supreme Court is going to do something that is sort of unprecedented and not consistent with the long-standing body of law,” Bratspies told me. “The worst-case scenario is that the plaintiffs lose in a fashion that limits legal theories moving forward, [like if] the court narrows the public trust doctrine in a fashion that says it doesn't apply to the atmosphere because the Romans didn't think about the atmosphere.”
That could have a chilling effect on other climate cases in federal courts; any federal climate lawsuits would have to find a different legal theory to rest their cases on, and a court that is willing to upend the public trust doctrine is unlikely to be sympathetic to arguments that don’t have a constitutional right to stand on. Held v Montana, being a case in state court, has no such drawbacks. The legal ramifications of a loss would be limited only to Montana, while the social impacts of the case will remain regardless of the outcome.
“Reasonable people can disagree with me, but I see nothing but positives come out of this case,” May told me. “If the plaintiffs win, it’s a first-time ruling that underscores that the courts play a role in climate rights. But even if they lose, there’s all this evidence in the record now. That could maybe inform or inspire cases elsewhere. Even in losing it would advance the conversation more than anything else that has happened.”
It could take weeks or even months for Judge Seeley to issue a ruling, and either outcome is likely to be appealed to the Montana Supreme Court, where the plaintiffs may face an even tougher fight.
“It’s sort of a Sisyphean battle,” May said. “Every time they roll the boulder up to the top of the mountain, it rolls back down to the bottom, and they have to just keep trying. But what else is there to do? They can’t vote. They don’t hold the levers of power. They’re inheriting a melting planet. There’s nothing left to do except this.”
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Wildfires in France and Spain — and a dire El Niño forecast — point to another era of public attention on disaster.
Wildfires and the Return of Climate Politics
Enormous wildfires are still burning in France and Spain. “We're facing a completely unprecedented fire,” French President Emmanuel Macron said on Monday, comparing the situation to World War II. The main fire in Gironde, a southwestern department along the Atlantic coast, have consumed more than 100,000 acres and forced roughly 200,000 people to evacuate.
There’s little sign the fires are under control in either country. In France, the blazes created a pyrocumulonimbus cloud — a towering, thundering “fire storm” that sometimes forms in the western United States but is not often observed in western Europe. Some fires have come within several miles of Bordeaux, the country’s sixth-largest metropolitan area and a longtime center of the wine industry. In Spain, enormous wildfires near Madrid, Ávila, and Toledo have killed one and displaced roughly another 79,000 people.
Firefighters are working fast, in part because a heatwave is forecast for the continent later this week. But of course it is hot — it is high summer in the Northern Hemisphere, and we are having a particularly hot year. 2026 now looks likely to be the world’s second-warmest year ever, and it has a better than one-third chance of being the warmest.
In the near term, expect more climate-addled disasters. The Pacific Ocean has slipped into its El Niño phase, which will likely spin off more extreme storms, droughts, heat waves, and wildfires. Recent modeling suggests it could be the most intense El Niño ever measured. Writing for his newsletter “The Climate Brink,” the climate researcher (and Heatmap contributor) Zeke Hausfather recently warned: “It looks like this year’s El Niño is not only very likely to be the strongest event since reliable records began — it may end up the strongest by a truly mind-blowing margin.”
How do we know this next El Niño will be bad? The most intense El Niño on record occurred from late 2015 to 2016, when sea surface temperatures in a benchmark region of the Pacific Ocean were 2.75 degrees Celsius warmer than normal. (That’s nearly 5 degrees Fahrenheit.) Those searing sea temperatures released huge amounts of heat into the atmosphere and eventually made 2016 the warmest year ever recorded. Today, a decade later, 2016 remains the fourth warmest year on record, coming in only under 2024, 2023, and 2025, per NOAA data.
But as Zeke writes, the middle 80% of modeled outcomes for this year’s El Niño are already projected to match or exceed that 2016 anomaly. The median forecast for this year’s event, in other words, would shatter the previous record. “The models are forecasting something outside the envelope of anything we have ever observed,” he writes. The National Weather Service agrees that there is an 81% chance of an event forming “that would rank among the largest El Niño events in the historical record going back to 1950,” and it says odds are better than 97% that the anomaly will stick around through spring 2027.
Scientists and activists once hoped that when global warming’s effects became unignorable, the public would take action. But disasters haven’t produced durable climate concern, and public attention has dissipated with every news cycle — and become ever more pessimistic. There are moments, however, when successive extremes can keep climate change more prominently in the public conversation. The years that followed the last mega-El Niño in 2016 made up one such period. If we are headed for another now, then experts should be ready with ideas not only for slowing and reversing the growth of heat-trapping emissions, but also for adapting our societies and infrastructure for our warming world. It’s clear we are going to need them.
This will be a big week for understanding the U.S. energy economy’s most important trend. A handful of tech companies driving the artificial intelligence boom — namely, Microsoft, Meta and Amazon — will report their quarterly earnings on Wednesday and Thursday. These companies are behind some of the country’s largest AI data center projects and therefore some of its most sizable planned power plants — clean and otherwise.
Last week, when Alphabet boosted its capital expenditure for this year by another $15 billion, the market rebelled and sent its shares tumbling. If investors’ interest in financing mega-scale data center projects is waning, then it could affect the electricity economy for years to come. In any case, we’ll know more soon. Rivian will also report its earnings this week.
Can AI help emergency managers make faster decisions when every second counts?
Meteorologists had nothing polite to say about Tropical Storm Bertha. The “weak, disorganized, and lopsided” system made initial landfall in Louisiana last week as a “hot, sheared mess,” one that forecasters doubted would reach Texas with much oomph at all. Still, the Galveston County Consolidated Drainage District — the local flood mitigation and drainage management entity for the state’s most flood-prone county — had stood at the ready, posting updates on the storm’s progress to its Facebook feed in the lead-up.
There had been action behind the scenes, too. Since this spring, the county has relied on a new “AI-powered flood warning solution” pilot program to help local administrators identify the gaps in their understanding of the county’s flood risk and monitor rising water levels in real time. In a crisis, a chatbot could even advise them on when to issue an evacuation order.
“Imagine you’re an operator and you have to tell people to leave their homes because of floods coming in,” Todd Barr, the CEO of Axonis Decision Intelligence, which has partnered with the smart water-level sensor company Simplicity Integration in Texas’ Galveston County, told me. Axonis provides AI-assisted decision-making tools to clients in a number of time-sensitive industries, and in every case, “You want a paper trail of the data you used to make the decision — the reasoning and the model you used — and our platform does all of that,” Barr went on.
Issuing evacuation notices is a famously thorny business, and one that has resulted in high-profile and high-casualty failures, including in the Paradise, California, and Maui wildfires. Particularly noteworthy were the 2025 Kerr County floods that killed more than 100 people in Texas’ Hill Country after local officials took 90 minutes to send phone alerts once they became aware of the rising river.
In many cases, particularly in more rural counties, the teams making the evacuation decisions are small and lack sufficient training not only on when to make such a call, but even on how to word it. “The people who are put in the position of issuing the messages are doing 20 other things at the same time,” Jeannette Sutton, a researcher at the University at Albany’s Emergency and Risk Communication Message Testing Lab, told me when I reported on evacuation notices after the Los Angeles fires.
As for Galveston, “100%” of the buildings on the densely populated island are at flood risk, with modeling suggesting a worst-case-scenario hurricane could produce 26 feet of storm surge. Much of the city’s stormwater infrastructure additionally predates modern climate-change-intensified rainfall probabilities, with the district in the midst of a $54 million drainage project aimed at mitigating future flooding by building a pump station and enlarging sewer lines.
As part of the region’s ongoing resiliency work, the Galveston County Consolidated Drainage District installed seven of Simplicity’s water-level sensors —the county’s first — at locations on the mainland. (There are no sensors currently on Galveston Island proper.) Simplicity’s Axonis-powered system, SI-Ai, also pulls in data from NOAA, the U.S. Geological Survey, and Houston’s Harris County to present residents of the entire region with a live flood-risk dashboard, complete with intuitive green-yellow-red indicators to evaluate their neighborhood hazard level in real time. Operators also have their own proprietary dashboard where they can monitor sensors and are prompted to ask questions to interpret readings and open “investigations” if something appears amiss.

“If I’m the municipality, I can say, ‘Okay, here’s what the forecast is looking like and what is potentially going to happen,” Alison Reese, the COO and co-founder of Simplicity, explained to me. “Then I could ask a question like, ‘Hey, what other locations in this watershed are at high risk for flash flooding?’”
That’s where Axonis, the artificial intelligence company, comes in. “Today you would have to be like, ‘Alright! Get the weather report, quick! What’s happening? What are the sensors saying? Okay Bill, now what’s the upstream sensor saying?’” Barr said, acting out the frantic scenario of trying to source data from multiple streams at once. “All of that is what we’re automating.” (Galveston’s Office of Emergency Management is “not the POC for the flood sensor operations,” a representative told me; the drainage district oversees the Axonis-Simplicity partnership, and did not return a request for an interview. The mayor of League City, a city 35-minutes north of Galveston that is also managed by the district, has publicly criticized the SI-Ai program as a separate sensor network that duplicates the work of the Harris County Flood Control District.)
Working from the assumption that emergency managers have to parse reams of data in short periods of time — flash floods can rise as much as 10 feet in an hour — Axonis provides what is essentially a chatbot for authorities to query potential decisions ranging from road closures to evacuation notices, based on feedback from the sensors. It stops short, however, of having a dialogue box that pops up to tell operators, EVACUATE THIS NEIGHBORHOOD NOW.
When Barr demoed the program to me, he had the tool configured to create a credit risk review memo for a would-be banking client. (Axonis also has customers in the banking and defense sectors.) The dashboard essentially functioned the same as it would for Galveston County, though, and his investigation returned the kind of simplified, emoji-studded one-sheet that users of large language model-powered AI interfaces would immediately recognize. In this case, the tool identified a “🔴Risk Alert CANDIDATE” — Barr said that would be a particular sensor, in the case of Galveston — and followed it with a summary and bullet-pointed sections breaking down “⚠️Credit Risk Indicators” and “💧Liquidity Position.” (In a screenshot of an example flood report for Simplicity, shared with me, those sections were replaced by “📍Site Location” and “💧Water Level — Last 72 Hours.” I wondered what else was possible: “🌊Historic hydraulic risk”? “💀Vulnerable Populations”? )

The system then takes operators through a four-step decision-making model based on the OODA Loop, a common workflow in military contexts that involves justifying actions through evidence-based observations. “We always keep a human in the loop on these things, at least today in 2026 — though who knows in two or three years,” Barr said. He clarified in a later conversation with me, though, that “Axonis and [AI] tools should never tell you to evacuate now. It should tell you the information you need to make that decision.”
That was a point Barr stressed numerous times during our conversation: That Axonis’ chatbot is intended as a brainstorming tool or sounding board, and one that keeps a careful paper trail, “cryptographically sealing” any eventual decisions for review and attestation later. I likened it to a police body camera, and Barr didn’t dispute the similarities. “It’s an accountability tool,” he told me.
Of course, that means the burden of decision-making still falls on potentially fallible humans. I worried in particular that by sharing the responsibility with AI, human operators might get lazy or fail to properly question a decision the program might be leading them toward, particularly in an instance of hallucinated data. To the latter point, Barr told me that this is part of what Axonis is designed to address. “You can’t just take the sensor data and throw it into Claude and be like, ‘Alright, go make a decision for me.’ You need to set guard rails,” he said.
As to the former point, Barr told me the chat includes a disclaimer reminding its users that AI can make mistakes, and that the company trains its customers on how LLM technology works. “At the end of the day, it’s a tool, not a decider,” he said, although he allowed that it might be used to automatically trigger warning lights, sirens, or barriers, such as closing a flooded roadway.
I also posed the concern about complacency to Ali Mostafavi, a professor who supervises the UrbanResilience.AL Lab at Texas A&M, which researches, among other things, how artificial intelligence might be utilized in emergency contexts. Mostafavi agreed that there is always a risk in cognitive outsourcing, but that there is a “counter-argument that is also valid — that without these technologies, we have seen what can happen. We had the catastrophic floods last year in Kerr County, and if a similar technology had existed back then, an automated system could have identified the flash flood, and many young children would be alive today.”
Still, Barr told me he isn’t aware of Axonis advising in an actual evacuation order yet. While it is operational, the predictive model remains untested against its highest-stakes use case: the extremes of a climate-changed world, where formerly unthinkable outcomes may be one storm away.
“The more we can stress-test these technologies in real operational settings and use that feedback loop to improve the technologies, the better,” Mostafavi said. “But that’s easier said than done, because to have a technology implemented in an operational setting it should already be stress-tested, right?”
Bertha, though, was not that reckoning; the gusty squalls blew through Galveston last week without even disturbing the dinner reservations at the marina. But although it was already back to 90 and sunny by Monday morning on the Texas Gulf, the drainage in Galveston County, as in many places around the country, remains outdated and easily overwhelmed. One day, inevitably, the water will come. Hopefully when it does, someone or something will be watching.
The large renewables developer changes tack “in response to federal energy objectives.”
Trump’s solar freeze is now so tough that at least one renewable energy developer has asked his administration to turn their permitting application into a data center and gas-fired power plant instead.
Renew Development HoldCo – an LLC created by Clearway Energy Group – wrote the Bureau of Land Management in April asking if they could amend their 2021 application to build the Amber solar project, a 500-megawatt solar project in the Nevada desert that would require building on federal land. Their requested change? “[T]o formally remove the proposed solar facility and replace it with the development of a proposed data center and natural gas facility,” according to a copy of the letter I obtained.
“This amendment is the result of a shift in our internal development priorities and an updated assessment of project timing, in order to better align with the goals of our Administration,” reads the letter, which is dated April 3 and signed by Clearway’s chief development officer John Woody. “The data center concept is in exploratory early stages and as such has a longer and more flexible development horizon, and we believe its schedule will better align with the Bureau’s current workload and staffing plans.”
Now, this swap is somewhat shocking but shouldn’t exactly be a surprise. Companies with federal energy leases are struggling to get their renewable projects permitted by a hostile Trump administration. We’ve already seen some offshore wind developers ditch their leases in favor of payouts and commitments to build more fossil infrastructure. Clearway Energy Group is owned by Global Infrastructure Partners and TotalEnergies, the latter of which struck such a deal in March.
But this does appear to represent an aberration for Clearway, one of the nation’s largest operators of renewable energy projects and whose marketing materials primarily focus on “clean energy.” Nearly all of the company’s portfolio is carbon-free power or energy storage generation sans a handful of “flexible generation” energy projects in California, according to an online map of their project pipeline. The company did not disclose in the documents I reviewed if the gas plant itself would power the data center, provide power to the wider grid, or both.
Candidly, I’ve been watching like a hawk to see if Trump’s chokehold on solar and wind permits would lead to more gas infrastructure and data centers on federal property instead. And companies are getting data center permits when they ask to swap out their solar farm for AI infrastructure. On Friday, I reported that a joint venture involving renewables developer Arevon and energy trader Bill Perkins got permission from BLM to switch an environmental permit tied to a solar farm for one allowing a new data center. Environmentalists plan to legally challenge BLM’s determination as they say it’s a test case for the future of federal land policy.
It’s unclear if Clearway would be the one to build and construct this hypothetical data center and power plant. I for one can’t find any evidence of Clearway developing data centers before. My best guess is that if they do move forward with this, it would look like the joint venture I covered on Friday, where Arevon distanced itself from the actual day-to-day operations of the development and a new firm specializing in data centers came in. But that’s just a hunch and there’s a saying about assumptions.
Nevertheless, Clearway is clearly handling the permitting side. Attached to the Clearway letter was an application also sent to BLM for constructing utility and telecommunications facilities on federal lands, a document technically known as an SF299. The application states Clearway considered using solar energy for the data center as well as using private land, but their alternative designs weren’t selected because they had “higher environmental and stakeholder conflicts.”
Also, in a section of the document requesting Clearway provide a “statement of need for the project,” the developer said it was submitting this proposal “in response to federal energy objectives” and specifically cited Trump’s Day 1 executive order which the company said “encourage[d] development of reliable energy projects on federal lands.”
I reached out to Clearway asking for more information on the letter and application. In response, the company claimed the solar project wasn’t being killed – it simply was moved to private land. They also declined to comment on the data center and gas project. Instead, I was provided a statement attributable to an unnamed spokesperson that “while we do not comment on any individual application while it moves through federal approval processes, we are pleased to be advancing more than 4 GW of solar and battery resources in Nevada on private and public lands and expect those projects to deliver tremendous economic benefits to the communities where they’re built.”
“Clearway values its strong working partnership with the BLM, its Southern Nevada office, and also with state and local interests in Nevada. Across all of these relationships, we continuously assess how best to develop and deliver infrastructure that meets needs and aligns with local and national policies and goals.”