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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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Current conditions: South Korea’s heat wave has killed at least 16 people after the southeastern city of Yangsan recorded an all-time national temperature high of nearly 109 degrees Fahrenheit • Washington authorities arrested a man suspected of arson as the Pacific Northwest state struggles to contain wildfires around Spokane • Typhoon Dolphin intensified into a Category 4 storm as it barrels toward southern Japan, where the ongoing heat wave has killed three female lions at a Tokyo zoo.
The United States could reach a deal with Iran as early as today to reopen the Strait of Hormuz to commercial shipping, Treasury Secretary Scott Bessent said. When asked during a Tuesday appearance on CNBC whether the agreement would allow Tehran to charge a toll to oil tankers, Bessent said the pact would include “freedom of movement.”
The announcement came as President Donald Trump faced a particularly grim economic milestone. Thanks to inflation from the Iran War, the price per gallon of diesel in the U.S. has averaged $4.09 since Trump returned to office in January 2025, according to a Financial Times analysis of Energy Information Administration data. That compares to $4.08 during Biden’s four years in office, when the Ukraine war triggered a price shock on diesel.
When the Trump administration brokered an $80 billion deal to support construction of at least 10 more Westinghouse AP1000 reactors in the U.S., the agreement came with a measure that would allow the federal government to request that the company’s owners offer shares of the legendary developer behind much of the American nuclear fleet on the stock market. It now appears that won’t be necessary. Last week, Westinghouse, a co-venture between Canadian uranium giant Cameco and Toronto-headquartered investment giant Brookfield, filed confidential paperwork with the U.S. Securities and Exchange Commission, laying the groundwork for a possible IPO.
The move came just two weeks after Holtec International, another long-standing stalwart in the industry that’s looking to play a central role in the next U.S. reactor buildout, filed its own S-1 paperwork with the SEC. At present, retail investors have limited options to bet on the nuclear renaissance. Startups such as X-energy, Oklo, and Hadron Energy — none of which has yet built a reactor or won Nuclear Regulatory Commission approval of its design — have dominated the market. Established firms such as the nuclear utility Constellation Energy, fuel maker Centrus Energy, and GE Vernova, whose joint venture with Japanese conglomerate Hitachi is a leading reactor developer, have also benefited. But Westinghouse and Holtec would be among the most serious “pure play” contenders on the market with real balance sheets.
British Prime Minister Andy Burnham took power last month after Labour leader Keir Starmer stepped down amid plummeting support within his own party, clearing the way for the populist former Manchester mayor’s democratic socialist reforms. Among the changes Burnham is expected to make on energy is giving the government an even greater role in developing fusion energy. “Because Burnham is committed to greater public control over utilities like energy, but within existing fiscal rules, his impact on fusion is likely to be about governance and ownership structures — for example stronger public or community stakes in fusion projects and more explicit links to regional development — rather than changing the headline national targets for fusion deployment themselves,” analyst Michael Heumann wrote in The Fusion Report.
It’s the type of intervention for which Japan’s fusion industry is pining. As you may recall, Japan’s conservative new “Iron Lady” Prime Minister Sanae Takaichi is going all in on reviving her country’s nuclear industry. But the FT reports that Japan’s fusion industry is now lobbying for more government support to get off the ground.
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Dominion Energy’s Coastal Virginia Offshore Wind project is progressing toward coming online by the end of next year. The timeline for the 2.6-gigawatt facility off Virginia’s shores to install its 176th and final turbine pushes back the start date from early 2027. But Dominion said the schedule “reflects additional contingency for weather, vessel maintenance, loadout operations, and extended jacking activities, rather than changes to the base turbine installation rate, which has been two days per turbine so far,” according to offshoreWIND.biz. The update comes after Trump conceded defeat in his battle to use the Department of Justice to wrestle back federal permits issued to offshore wind projects under the previous administration, my colleague Emily Pontecorvo wrote in June.
On Tuesday evening, meanwhile, 10 judges on the U.S. Court of Appeals for the District of Columbia Circuit upheld an earlier injunction that said the Environmental Protection Agency could not cancel $20 billion in climate grants, ruling in a split decision that recipients should have access to the funds.
Renewables made up 54.1% of Spain’s electricity generation in July — and it’s even higher when you count Spaniards who generated solar at home for self-consumption. That’s according to the latest data the national grid operator Red Electric de España published Tuesday. Generation from renewables surged nearly 6% year-over-year to a record 14,699 gigawatt-hours last month, according to Renewables Now. Solar made up by far the largest share for the fourth consecutive month, accounting for more than 28% of the mix in July.

I’m always fascinated by the parallels between Cuba and Puerto Rico, which — despite shared colonial histories and struggles — took divergent paths in the mid-20th Century, only to both end up with aging grids that can’t keep the lights on. I was reminded of conversations I have had with Boricuas who have spent nights sleeping on balconies and porches when the electricity is out, leaving air conditioners and fans idled on hot nights. In Cuba, that’s now happening en masse as the summer heat collides with the ongoing U.S. oil embargo. “Things are only getting worse. Tomorrow it’ll collapse again ... and we’ll be back to sleeping on the Malecón,” Alexey Ríos García told the Associated Press as he used a piece of yellow foam as a pillow to cushion his head from the tough concrete.
What’s next for electric cars? There’s no consensus.
Here’s the good news on electric cars in America: Sales in the second quarter of 2026 rose by 14% compared to the first quarter, which itself was an improvement on the preceding quarter. And here’s the bad: Even those good-looking Q2 sales numbers this year represent a 20% decrease from the same period in 2025.
Welcome to a confused moment in EV history. Electric vehicle sales in this country grew at a decent rate through the early part of the 2020s — right up until they fell off a cliff last fall when the federal tax credit disappeared and cars became $7,500 more expensive overnight. EVs have begun to recover in the intervening months, especially as Americans look for some respite from high gas prices. Yet the lineup of available EVs for them to purchase has been weakened by endless volatility. Car companies struggle to keep up with Chinese competitors abroad and the Trump administration’s relentless attacks on electric vehicles here. Meanwhile, EV makers have shifting visions of what they want electric cars to be.
In the long run, nothing has changed. The automotive industry is headed in one direction: toward a future dominated by battery-powered electric vehicles. But in the short run, even as EVs are setting sales records in dozens of countries and approaching 30% of the global car fleet, it feels like everyone involved in trying to sell EVs to Americans is driving in a different direction.
Just take a quick accounting of the players. At the start of the decade, Ford pinned its hopes on the F-150 Lightning pickup truck and the Mustang Mach-E, but never figured out how not to lose money on them. Last year, the company then blew up plans for its second-generation EV to go back to the drawing board. It stood up a skunkworks team at a far-flung California factory to learn how to slash manufacturing costs and make a mid-size electric truck in the $30,000s, set to emerge from the shadows next year.
Its Detroit rival, GM, looked to be in better shape. It bet its battery-powered fortunes on the Ultium platform that would underpin many vehicles across its lineup. In doing so, it rolled out a more ambitious lineup than Ford: Not just the Chevy Silverado, Blazer, Equinox, and Bolt, but several well-received Cadillac models that breathed some life into that atrophying brand.
In 2024, GM phased out the Ultium name, seemingly to make room for the next-generation architecture to follow. And then things started to get a little rocky. The Chevy Bolt, a hero of the late 2010s era of EVs, returned just in time to be canceled so GM could build more gas-guzzling Buick crossovers. General Motors is now stuck in a wait-and-see on battery power. It may update its existing EVs, particularly the Equinox, but reportedly has no plans to expand its electric offerings until at least 2030 — when, perhaps, some of the dust of the Trump presidency has settled.
GM’s fortunes look rosy next to those of Stellantis, the global giant that owns car brands like Jeep, Dodge, Chrysler, and Ram. Like competitors Ford and GM, Stellantis has had to take on eight-figure losses as it rejiggers its business to try to compete in the electric future. But unlike the Detroit duo, it has no particular success story even to hang its hat upon. Jeep EVs have been a struggle, and the planned Ram EV pickup never even saw the light of day. Now the great electric hope for pickup trucks is the planned Ram extended-range EV, a truck that would carry a gasoline engine simply to act as an onboard generator that recharges the battery.
Among Japan’s legacy automakers, the surprising insurgent is Toyota. The world’s biggest car company has been perhaps the most openly skeptical of electrification, with leadership arguing time and again against the economic feasibility of electric cars. Public statements make it sounds as if the company is being dragged away from the combustion age against its will. And yet, as the other car companies drift into limbo amid the chaotic current market, here is Toyota, slowly building up something rather than shifting its plans every couple of years.
Though its first true EV, the bZ4x, wasn’t up the standard of today’s best EVs, Toyota has stormed into 2026 with an improved version, the bZ, plus a revival of the C-HR small crossover in fully electric form. Toyota is in the midst of electrifying the Highlander SUV and even rolled out a concept car to tease a battery-powered makeover of the iconic Toyota Corolla. While the rest of the industry retreats from EVs to formulate a new plan, Toyota chose this moment to dive in headfirst. The same is true of its frequent design partner, Subaru, which has finally introduced multiple EVs to join the race.
Compare that with the turmoil at rival Honda. Like Subaru, it borrowed technology to accelerate its entry into the U.S. EV race — in Honda’s case, building the Prologue crossover on GM’s Ultium system. The company put several new EVs in the pipeline that would be Hondas from the ground up. Earlier this year, it killed them all, with leadership convinced its efforts just couldn’t compete, especially in non-U.S. markets where it would go up against the dirt-cheap offerings coming out of China.
Then, of course, there’s Tesla. Elon Musk’s brand is suddenly thriving again, thanks in large part to the vacuum created by the rest of the industry. Tesla, for all its bad press in some corners of the internet, still makes up more than half of EV sales in America, and the numbers soared in Q2 in spite of everything that’s been going on with Musk and his company (his focus on everything else that’s not human-driven cars, his political misadventures, and his reliance on just two aging car models, just to name a few issues).
That legacy car companies have stalled and flip-flopped on electrification as the political winds have changed has left the door open for the other EV-only startups. Rivian’s much-ballyhooed R2 arrived this summer and is off to an excellent start on its mission to make that company mainstream. Slate has finally taken the cover off its affordable electric small pickup. Lucid has been dogged by bankruptcy rumors as it tries to cross the startup’s valley of death, but for now, it’s still chugging.
With the car industry so scattered and disparate on its electrification efforts, it’s hard to know quite what to make of things. We’re a long way from the go-go Biden era, when government incentives for EV production gave automakers the confidence to make proclamations about going fully electric. Back then, it felt like we might be on the cusp of seeing an EV version of just about everything. Now it feels like the United States government is fighting another losing war — this one trying to singlehandedly save petroleum power while the rest of the world moves on.
Electric cars came to America slowly, and then fast. After decades of science experiments and sci-fi promises and Who Killed the Electric Car?, EVs gained a foothold remarkably quickly after the rise of Tesla. Millions of Americans now own one. But the leap from early adoption to mass adoption — which was first delayed by factors like high prices and unease with new technology — has been further forestalled by an antagonistic administration and an industry flailing about it keep up with its whims.
Electrification is coming. But this lull isn’t going away anytime soon.
There‘s a striking amount of agreement across the political system about what the big issues are.
This is an edition of Heatmap Daily, an evening review of the day’s news written by our executive editor. Sign up for it here.
The country's fastest-growing market for data centers is, for now, frozen. Governor Greg Abbott of Texas announced on Monday that the state’s grid authority should not allow any more data centers to hook up until state regulatory agencies complete an audit of existing projects.
As part of this audit, data center developers will have to disclose the following, according to the governor:
“Any data center project that fails to comply” with the audit “must be denied,” Abbott wrote in a letter to the agencies.
Abbott's freeze isn't quite broad enough to be called a full-on moratorium. As The Texas Tribune noted, data centers that aren’t asking to connect to Texas’ power grid can proceed as planned. But the announcement does mean New York is no longer the only state where the governor is trying to slow down data center development. As my colleague Alexander Kaufman wrote today in Heatmap AM, Texas’s governor has more than a little in common with New York’s chief executive, Kathy Hochul — above all, they’re both running for re-election in November.
Now, as far as data center regulation goes, Abbott's disclosure requirements are pretty weak tea. That’s chiefly because they are, well, disclosure requirements — they don't require that any developer actually changes their behavior, just that they publish data saying what they were going to do in the first place.
Yet his announcement put me in mind of something I've been thinking about for a while: There might be more agreement about data center regulation than we think.
Take Michigan, for instance. The progressive Senate candidate in that state, Abdul El-Sayed (who could very likely win the Democratic primary tonight), has become prominent partly by speaking out about data centers. He was early to the topic, publishing mandatory “terms of engagement” for data center developers back in January, and his own rise has tracked the issue’s rising salience in American politics.
Some of El-Sayed’s recent remarks about data centers have an undertone of surprise, as if he is a little astounded by how prominent the issue has become. “There’s literally not a conversation that I have, not a stop that I make, where data centers and AI don’t come up,” he said last month. As he recently marveled on a campaign stop last week: “People really effing hate data centers.”
He hasn't called for a national data center moratorium, though, as his allies and endorsers Senator Bernie Sanders or Representative Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez have. Instead, his blessedly short document says Michiganders should have a few “rights” when a data center wants to build in their community:
He’s also called for an end to tax breaks for data centers.
El-Sayed is on the Democratic Party's left. Earlier today, a candidate seen as in the party’s center — Iowa gubernatorial candidate Rob Sand — released his own data center plan. It demands the following, at somewhat greater length:
Look — it’s pretty similar to El-Sayed’s list! Sand might be a moderate, and El-Sayed might be a progressive, but it’s hard to see too much daylight between their data center policies.
What’s notable about these policies is what’s not in them. Neither El-Sayed nor Sand would require that data centers be powered by clean energy, as, say, the Wisconsin DSA gubernatorial candidate Francesca Hong has proposed. Neither El-Sayed nor Sand moots a statewide moratorium on data centers, either. And while their proposals would have more teeth, in theory, than Abbott’s audit, the three proposals are interested in the same questions — energy use, water use, physical footprint, and tax incentives.
As we’ve frequently noted at Heatmap, the data center backlash is strikingly bipartisan. Americans of many backgrounds, belief systems, and byways of life agree that the data center boom is becoming a problem. I wonder if there’s more agreement about the solution, too, than we might think.