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The Inflation Reduction Act is already transforming America. But is it enough?

In the late spring, a scene happened that might have once — even a few years ago — seemed unimaginable.
Senator Joe Manchin and Energy Secretary Jennifer Granholm visited the town of Weirton, West Virginia, to celebrate the groundbreaking of a new factory for the company Form Energy. The factory will produce a new type of iron battery that could eventually store huge amounts of electricity on the grid, allowing solar and wind energy to be saved up and dispatched when needed.
Manchin was clear about why everyone was gathered in Weirton. “Today’s groundbreaking is a direct result of the Inflation Reduction Act, and this type of investment, in a community that has felt the impact of the downturn in American manufacturing, is an example of the IRA bill working as we intended,” he said.
It’s been nearly a year since the Inflation Reduction Act, President Joe Biden’s flagship climate law, passed. The law is successful. It is transforming the American energy system. And the Biden administration is implementing it as fast as it can: Since the law passed, the Treasury Department has published nearly three dozen pieces of complicated rules explaining how the IRA’s billions in subsidies can actually be used.
But is the IRA successful enough? The pace and scale of the climate challenge remains daunting. A recent report from the Rhodium Group, an energy-research firm, found that the United States would only meet its Paris Agreement goal of cutting carbon emissions in half by 2030 with more aggressive federal and state policy.
Here are some broad observations about how the IRA — and the broader project of American decarbonization — is going:
Politically, environmentally, no matter how you look at it: The power sector is the thumping heart of the I.R.A. Because engineers know how to generate electricity without producing carbon pollution — using wind turbines, solar panels, nuclear plants, and more — the sector is central to the law’s implicit plan to decarbonize the American economy, which requires, first, building as much zero-carbon electricity infrastructure as possible, while, second, shifting as much of the rest of the economy to using electricity — as opposed to oil, gas, or coal — as possible.
The electricity industry is also the site of perhaps the law’s most powerful climate policy — and its only policy tied to a national emissions-cutting goal. The law will indefinitely subsidize new zero-carbon electricity until greenhouse-gas pollution from the American power sector falls 75% below its 2022 levels. That means these tax credits could remain in effect until the 2060s, according to an analysis from the research firm Wood MacKenzie.
This was a first for American environmental law, and it remains poorly understood by the public. Even some experts claim that the electricity credits will phase out in 2032 with the I.R.A.’s other subsidies — when, in fact, 2032 is the earliest possible year that they could end.
Which is all to say that it’s early days for understanding the I.R.A.’s effect on the power sector. The data is provisional.
Yet the data is … good. Better than I expected when I started writing this article. The overwhelming majority of new electricity generation built nationwide this year — some 83% — will be wind, solar, or battery storage, according to federal data. Although that mostly reflects projects planned before the IRA was passed, it’s still a giant leap over previous years, and it suggests that the law might be giving clean electricity a boost at the margin:
The solar industry, in particular, is surging. The industry just had its best first quarter ever, with rooftop installations booming and some big utility-scale solar farms finally coming online.
But solar can’t power the entire grid, and other renewables are having more trouble. I’m particularly worried about offshore wind. To build a new offshore-wind project, companies bid for tracts of the ocean floor in a government-run auction. Yet many of those bids failed to account for 2021 and 2022’s rapid inflation, and some developers are now on the hook for projects that don’t pencil out. Most outside analysts now believe that the Biden administration will fall short of its goal to build 30 gigawatts of offshore wind by 2030.
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The boom in electric vehicle and battery manufacturing is clearly the I.R.A.’s brightest spot. (The two industries are one and the same: If you have a giant battery, you’re probably going to put it in an EV; and about a third of every EV’s value comes from the battery.)
Since the IRA passed, 52 new mining or manufacturing projects have been announced, representing $56 billion in new investment, according to a tracker run by Jay Turner, a Wellesley College professor. If you zoom out to all of Biden’s term, then more than $100 billion in EV investment has been announced, which will create more than 75,000 jobs, according to the Department of Energy.
It remains to be seen, however, whether this investment will produce the kind of durable, unionized voter base that the Biden administration hopes to form. So far, much of this investment has flowed to the Sunbelt — and in particular, to a burgeoning zone of investment from North Carolina to Alabama nicknamed the “Battery Belt.” These states are right-to-work states with a low cost-of-living, like much of the states that have absorbed manufacturing investment since the 1980s.
This might make Republicans think twice about undermining the IRA, but it might also be a missed opportunity.
In order to cheaply decarbonize its grid, America needs better power lines. Building long-range, interregional electricity transmission will allow the country to funnel clean energy to where it’s needed most. According to a team led by Jesse Jenkins, a Princeton engineering professor, 80% of the IRA’s carbon-reduction benefits could be lost if the United States doesn’t quicken the pace of new transmission construction. (Other models are less worried.)
Yet the effort to build more power lines — and the broader campaign to reform some rules governing permitting and land use, especially the National Environmental Policy Act — is probably over, at least in this Congress. Republican lawmakers figured out that Democrats are desperate for transmission reform, and they were prepared to make the party pay a high price for it — too high a price for much of the caucus. The bipartisan deal to raise the debt-ceiling also contained many of the moderate permitting reforms that Democrats might have accepted as part of a broader bargain over transmission.
Democrats are now stuck hoping that the Federal Energy Regulatory Commission, or FERC, will make smaller, more technocratic improvements to the transmission process when they take a majority of the commission’s seats early next year.
The biggest programs in the IRA target mature technologies, like solar, wind, and EVs. But the law is full of unheralded programs meant to encourage the development of early-stage climate technologies, such as sustainable aviation fuel. By encouraging technological progress, these programs could abate hundreds of millions of tons of carbon a year in the decades after 2030. They may prove especially important at reducing emissions outside the United States, according to a new analysis from Rhodium Group.
Which is to say that they could be — from a world-historic perspective — some of the law’s most important policies. But for now, few of these programs have been implemented, and we don’t really know how they’re going to go.
Some of them may also be devilishly hard to set up. My colleague Emily Pontecorvo has reported on the difficulty of setting up the tax credits for green hydrogen, which are some of the law’s most generous. If successful, the credits could give the U.S. a major new industry to tackle the decarbonization challenge; if unsuccessful, they could screw up the American electricity system.
Right now, most of the law’s consumer-facing tax credits are continuations of old policies — such as the longstanding subsidy to install rooftop solar — rather than something new. Perhaps the most expansive subsidy that consumers have seen so far is the new $7,500 tax credit for leasing an electric vehicle.
But many more programs will eventually come, including the IRA’s rebates for heat pumps, induction stoves, and electric water heaters. Those programs, some of which must be administered by state offices, have largely yet to be set up. (Even so — and in keeping with other encouraging trends — heat pump sales outpaced furnace sales in the U.S. for the first time last year.)
The Department of Energy is an agency transformed. The IRA held out the opportunity that the agency could metamorphose from an R&D-focused nuclear-weapons storehouse into the federal government’s dynamo of decarbonization. The Biden administration — and Energy Secretary Jennifer Granholm — has seized that opportunity.
As I wrote earlier this year, the agency has stepped into the role of being America’s bureau of industrial policy, replete with its own in-house bank. It has published some of the most detailed and sophisticated federal industrial plans that I’ve ever seen.
And it is getting admirably specific about each of the technologies in its portfolio. In a recent report on the nascent hydrogen industry, for instance, the department said that companies might not build out enough infrastructure because they can’t count on future demand for clean hydrogen. (It’s impossible for firms to invest in making hydrogen if they can’t be sure anyone is going to buy it.) Then, earlier this week, the agency announced a new $1 billion program to buy hydrogen itself, thus providing that demand-side certainty that producers need.
Let’s return to renewables. The United States is striving — but will likely fail — to build 30 gigawatts of offshore wind by 2030. It is building a couple dozen gigawatts of new solar capacity every year. That may seem like a lot: One gigawatt of electricity is enough to power about 825,000 homes.
But annual power demand in the United States is closer to 4,000 gigawatts — and it’s on track to grow as we electrify more and more of the economy. While decarbonizing the grid isn’t as simple as switching one energy source for another, still, it would take more than a century to build 4,000 gigawatts of renewables electricity at our current rate.
It’s a similar story in electric cars. The growth is good: EV sales rose 50% year over year in the first half of 2023. But the challenge is daunting: Electric vehicles made up only 7% of all new car sales in the U.S. during the same period, and decarbonizing the car fleet will eventually require making virtually all new car sales EVs, and then — over the next decade — replacing the 275 million private vehicles on the road.
And that’s the story of the IRA — from renewables to EVs, geothermal to nuclear energy. The trends have never been better. The government has never tried to change the energy system so quickly or so thoroughly. That, by itself, is progress: For decades, the great obstacle of climate change was that the government wasn’t trying to solve it at all.
But decarbonization will require replacing hundreds of millions of machines that exist in the world — and doing it fast enough that we avoid dealing catastrophic damage to the climate system. The IRA is about to take on that challenge head-on. Now we find out if it’s up to the task.
The real work, in other words, is just beginning.
Read more from Robinson Meyer:
The East Coast’s Smoke Could Last Until October
The Weird Reasons Behind the Atlantic Ocean’s Crazy Heat
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Plus, Google and Amazon report on what hyperscaling has done to their emissions.
There’s an interesting new report out today from the progressive think tank Groundwork Collaborative that makes a case for how Democrats can harness the artificial intelligence and data center boom to help the power grid — while also cutting costs for electricity customers.
But first, some news. We’ve known for some time now that artificial intelligence is transforming America’s biggest technology companies, turning them into major energy consumers and even quasi-industrial firms. Now we have even more evidence that it’s driving up their carbon emissions, too.
Google and Amazon released their annual sustainability reports yesterday, and both show huge surges in their energy use and climate pollution. Google’s greenhouse gas pollution grew by 18% last year, its largest year-over-year jump on record, and its energy use leapt by 37%. The company’s energy use rose by more than a quarter last year; it now uses roughly 3.5 times as much energy as it did before the pandemic.
Amazon’s climate pollution, meanwhile, increased by more than 16%, surging by the equivalent of more than 10 million metric tons of carbon dioxide. Emissions from its purchased electricity increased 34% since last year. If you feel like you’re seeing more Rivian-made Amazon delivery vans on the road, you’re not wrong: The company claims it deployed an additional 21,000 last year.
What’s driving this surge? The AI boom, of course. “Our AI infrastructure buildout is currently accelerating faster than the grid is decarbonizing,” Kate Brandt, Google’s chief sustainability officer, said in a statement.
What to do about it? That’s what Groundwork’s report is about.
“How do we bring down costs now? How do we bring down costs in the long term? And how can we make those two things mutually reinforcing?” Grayson Flood, the report’s author and a former policy adviser to Representative Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez, told me. “We wanted to be pretty direct about addressing what we see as a broken incentive structure within the system, particularly for interregional transmission.”
The report outlines a few novel ideas about how to lower prices immediately, in part to get through a coming multi-year “crunch,” during which the power grid in some regions will be maximally constrained while utilities work to bring new power plants online:
The report also imagines several policy ideas to help build out the grid. One of them is a Grid Trust Fund, a new federal bank account funded through an excise tax on data centers and other large electricity loads.
The government has often turned to funds like these to support infrastructure that creates a natural monopoly at national scale, Flood said. “The interstate highway is the most notorious example, but you can look at airports, you can look at seaports — they have these types of trust funds. There’s a lot of precedent for this in the tax code, and they tend to be financed with excise taxes on some sort of corresponding usage of the infrastructure.”
Under his scheme, the new excise tax would fall on big power users like data centers or crypto miners that don’t generate many permanent local jobs — in other words, aluminum smelters, steel mills, and semiconductor fabs would be exempt from it. But even just taxing electricity for large loads at 1 or 1.5 cents per kilowatt-hour, he said, could throw off more than $100 billion in a decade. That money could then be used to fund new transmission projects, technical assistance for utilities, ratepayer relief, or economic development.
That trust fund would be partly overseen by a National Power Authority, a new government corporation modeled on the Tennessee Valley Authority or the Energy Department’s existing power marketing administrations. This authority would have limited powers and would be partly inspired by Texas’ successful effort to centrally plan transmission lines in order to expand its electricity market.
The new authority would plan and develop interregional transmission, linking far-flung regions of the country to create new power markets. It would also have the power to build new 24/7 zero-carbon electricity power plants with high up-front capital costs, such as new geothermal projects, offshore wind farms, or nuclear plants.
“People talk about the power grid as a platform,” Flood said. But “right now, the grid is not functioning as a backbone and platform, it’s functioning as a bottleneck.”
The goal of the report, he said, is to ask: “How do we build [the power grid] as a backbone to support the growth of private markets, whether that’s in renewable energy generation, or an AI data center, or a new hospital that’s showing up?”
It’s an interesting document. Many energy wonks have proposed plans to shift some of the costs of expanding the electricity system out of the ratebase — that is, out of customers’ power bills — and onto the tax base, which is funded in a more progressive way. (I recently argued for a national, publicly funded grid buildout in The New York Times.) The new Groundwork report, in essence, tries to reframe those ideas for an era of populist politics — and one in which Americans are suspicious of data centers, as Heatmap’s polling has shown.
In its fusion of populist and pro-growth attitudes, this new set of proposals reminds me of New York City Mayor Zohran Mamdani’s attempt to freeze the rent for some tenants while passing major supply-side reforms allowing new housing construction. That effort has won Mamdani praise from many housing advocates in New York (even as some remain dubious about his de facto rent freeze). Whether that kind of politics works at a national level remains to be seen.
The bill is part of a package now sitting on Governor Mikie Sherrill’s desk.
Data center politics are continuing to evolve rapidly, and almost always in the direction of increasing costs and restrictions for data center development.
In New Jersey, which has become ground zero for the political backlash to high electricity prices, a gaggle of bills relating to data centers and electricity prices just hit the desk of newly elected Governor Mikie Sherrill, including a large load tariff bill, a water and energy reporting bill, and a bill to scale back tax credits available to data center projects.
All of these pieces of legislation are consistent with national and local trends (federal regulators are encouraging regional electricity markets to come up with large load tariffs, for example), with tax credits getting an especially close look in statehouses across the country.
Thirty-eight states have “ dedicated tax incentives for data centers,” according to an April study by the National Conference on State Legislatures. These often include exemptions from sales taxes for data center equipment like servers and routers, or property tax abatements for newly constructed data centers.
In Virginia, which last year elected Sherrill’s former House colleague Abigail Spanberger as governor, the sales tax exemption has become a hot issue of political contestation, as powerful Virginia State Senator Louise Lucas has come out in opposition to it. A budget deal recently reached in the state’s General Assembly included a tax on data center electricity consumption, while the data center tax exemption question will be kicked to a working group for now, according to the Virginia Mercury.
The New Jersey bill currently on the governor’s desk targets a tax credit program called Next New Jersey, which has some $500 million to disburse for tax credits. Half of that has been allocated for a CoreWeave data center project on the site of an existing laboratory, State Senator Joseph Cryan told me. The remaining $250 million would be used to bolster a number of existing state programs.
“The reason for eliminating it was, frankly, because people are outraged over the amount of money CoreWeave got,” Cryan said.
CoreWeave did not respond to a request for comment. A Sherill spokesperson didn’t comment on the record about when or whether the bills would be signed.
New Jersey and Virginia’s examination of tax credits comes after another state with a Democratic governor, Illinois, paused tax incentives for data centers that had been worth almost $1 billion in the first five years of this decade.
The turn against tax incentives for data centers comes as the public is increasingly wary of the latter and their perceived effect on electricity prices. This turn in sentiment has forced governors — like, say, Indiana Governor Mike Braun — to pivot away from their typical cheerleading for new businesses.
“States are very focused on attracting industries of the future, attracting jobs for their residents, attracting business,” Justin Balik, a former economic development official in New Jersey and vice president for states at the climate group Evergreen Action, told me. But, he asked, “Does the economic development strategy for a state reflect its other policy priorities?”
New Jersey itself is an example of how quickly the politics of economic development can turn. When the bill establishing the Next New Jersey program passed in 2024, then-Governor Phil Murphy trumpeted the bill for “capitalizing on this moment to ensure we establish ourselves as a frontrunner in generative AI innovation.”
“AI has already started to revolutionize our everyday lives, and New Jersey is capitalizing on this moment to ensure we establish ourselves as a frontrunner in generative AI innovation,” Murphy said in a statement typical of the more boosterist era of, uhhh, two years ago. “AI will be a transformative industry that will change lives and grow our economy and New Jersey is ready to take the lead.”
That was in July 2024. Now it’s July 2026. Electricity bills in New Jersey have gone up from $108 per month in May 2024 to $140 this past May, according to the Heatmap-MIT Electricity Price Hub, while rates have gone up some 38%. And while it’s often difficult to attribute electricity rate hikes directly to data center development — or even determine whether data centers raise rates at all — New Jersey, which is part of the PJM Interconnection electricity market, is almost certainly seeing hikes due to data center construction. PJM has struggled to bring on new generation or adequate transmission, and its own market monitor said in March that “data center load growth is the primary reason for recent and expected capacity market conditions, including total forecast load growth, the tight supply and demand balance, and high prices.”
The conditions have forced lawmakers to reconsider their typical bias toward economic development, Balik told me. “I think we’re seeing a moment where there’s a reckoning with the energy affordability conversation,” he said, “Where folks are rightly saying, hey, we care about clean energy in some cases, and in a lot of cases we care about energy affordability. Does our economic development strategy match those priorities, or are these two things at odds with each other?”
Cryan, the state senator, put it more bluntly: “The reason for doing it was to show the public that we hear their outrage and can do something about it,” he said. “The governor and the legislature have heard the voices of the people of New Jersey.”
What the heck is “surficial mineralization”?
According to one of the world’s leading carbon removal buyers, the sector’s future lies in piles of industrial waste.
When Frontier, the Stripe-led coalition of carbon removal supporters, announced its latest $915 million funding commitment, it took the opportunity to lay out the five technologies it views as most promising. I was familiar with four of them — ocean alkalinity enhancement, biomass carbon removal and storage, enhanced rock weathering, and direct air capture. Heatmap has covered them all. But the name on the very top of the list stumped me: surficial mineralization.
It sounds technical, and like all methods of carbon removal, it is — sort of. The idea is to take advantage of the tailings ponds and slag heaps left behind by the mining and steelmaking industries. These piles of calcium- or magnesium-rich debris naturally capture and store carbon from the air — not enough to change the trajectory of our warming planet without any human intervention, but managed well, they could one day capture carbon at a significant scale.
How significant, exactly? While there’s been very little action in the space to date, Frontier says surficial mineralization has the potential to remove over 10 gigatons of carbon from the atmosphere per year — as much or more than any other pathway — at an eventual cost of $80 to $120 per ton. That would put it among the cheapest approaches on Frontier’s list, in part because those heaps of industrial waste alone could absorb anywhere from a gigaton to 4 gigatons of carbon before there’s a need to mine rocks solely for carbon removal purposes.
“The beauty of surficial mineralization is twofold,” Hannah Bebbington Valori, who heads the Frontier coalition, told me. “One, we are working with an abundant source of highly reactive rock, and so there is a significant opportunity for carbon dioxide drawdown. And two, it is carbonating in place, and so sufficient mineralization technologies can be considered closed system approaches, and have generally more straightforward measurement reporting and verification infrastructure.”
At a chemical level, the process resembles other carbon removal pathways Frontier champions, such as enhanced rock weathering and ocean alkalinity enhancement. All three rely on alkaline minerals reacting with moisture and ambient carbon dioxide to form stable carbonate compounds that permanently lock away the gas. The difference is exactly where this reaction takes place: While surficial mineralization contains it to waste piles at industrial sites, the other approaches disperse the reaction across open, difficult-to-monitor systems such as farmland soils and the ocean.
That makes measurement, reporting, and verification — known as MRV — far more challenging and expensive for ocean- and soil-based systems, as scientists must track carbon uptake across ecologically complex environments where countless biological and chemical processes are unfolding simultaneously. These intersecting processes makes it difficult to demonstrate that human intervention was responsible for any given ton of carbon removed, as opposed to natural variability. MRV for these pathways thus relies heavily on modeling, which can never provide the same level of certainty as direct measurement.
Surficial mineralization, however, can be measured much more directly. On-site sensors continuously monitor CO2 concentrations above mine tailings or steel slag, providing a real-time signal of how quickly and to what degree the materials are drawing down carbon. Scientists can then validate these measurements in the lab by comparing physical samples of the material taken before and after the reaction, quantifying exactly how much solid carbonate formed as a result of various engineered interventions. The primary tool for this is X-ray diffraction — a well-established geological technique that identifies a sample’s mineral composition like a chemical fingerprint, making it possible to directly measure how much carbon the material locked away.
Don’t mistake the relative simplicity of the MRV framework for evidence that surficial mineralization is a proven carbon removal pathway — the reality is far from it. While mineralization may look simpler than, say, direct air capture, which typically uses giant fans and specialized sorbents to pull CO2 from the air, there are very few companies working in this space today. All are extremely early stage, and the time and capital required to secure feedstock partnerships, gain site access, and acquire necessary industrial equipment remain significant barriers to getting these projects off the ground.
Why is this heavy equipment needed in the first place? Because these waste piles won’t do much carbon capture work if they’re simply left untouched. That’s because the minerals at the pile’s surface will begin to slowly carbonate, eventually becoming fully saturated and acting as a seal that blocks carbon from reaching the reactive minerals below. As yet there’s no consensus on how to most quickly and cost-effectively break through this natural process to maximize carbon uptake — companies are testing a range of approaches, from crushing and spreading material to maximize air exposure (similar to enhanced rock weathering) to actively churning piles of waste to constantly reveal fresh reactive surfaces.
“Understanding exactly what is the best system to use to maximize your carbon removal efficiency and minimize your cost — this is what we need real-world deployment to do, and to understand,” Bebbington Valori told me.
One of the seed-stage startups Frontier has supported with a small pre-purchase agreement, Arca, spun out of the University of British Columbia to commercialize its approach to carbon removal from mine tailings. The company’s focus is ultramafic waste — magnesium- and iron-rich rock that locks away carbon dioxide as stable magnesium carbonate. “My pathway for interest on that was knowing that there was already about 2 billion tons of ultramafic mine waste sitting on the surface of the Earth in Canada alone,” Greg Dipple, Arca’s co-founder and head of science, told me.
Arca proposes to increase the surface area available for carbon capture in two ways. The first is by using customized robots to continuously till and churn tailings piles, constantly exposing fresh feedstock to the air to maximize carbon uptake before the next layer of tailings is deposited on top. That strategy, Dipple told me, “can give us a five- to 10-fold increase in the rate of CO2 capture” at active mine sites.
It successfully demonstrated this approach in an 18-month pilot project with Australian mining giant BHP at an active mine in the country's Northern Goldfields region where Arca says it increased the tailings’ mineralization rate by an order of magnitude. But the startup plans to push the efficacy of its tech further through what it calls “mineral activation.” This technique uses industrial-scale microwaves to heat the minerals rapidly enough to drive off the water that’s chemically bound within their crystal structure. This essentially blows apart the minerals from the inside out, exposing fresh magnesium-rich surfaces primed to react with carbon dioxide. The expected result is faster mineralization and more carbon captured per ton of mine tailings — but the startup has yet to test it in the field.
“Essentially we’re making microwave popcorn out of silicate minerals,” Dipple explained. “The microwaves cause the release of that water in the same way that when you make popcorn, you’re essentially boiling the water out of the center of the kernel, and that’s what blows the kernel up and creates this high surface area.” The idea is to eventually integrate this step into the mine’s tailings processing stream, with minerals moving through the giant microwave before they’re deposited at the storage facility.
Dipple told me that mineral activation will be a core part of Arca’s future projects, including those intended to fulfill the company’s 10-year carbon removal offtake agreement with Microsoft. Signed last October, the deal calls for Arca to deliver nearly 300,000 metric tons of carbon removal to the software giant.
While no other startup in the space has landed an offtake agreement of that scale, several have secured early backing from Frontier through pre-purchase agreements. One of them, Karbonetiq, is working to capture carbon from steel slag, the calcium-rich byproduct of steel production that accumulates in large piles at processing sites. Like the magnesium-rich minerals in mine tailings, calcium compounds in steel slag naturally react with moisture and carbon dioxide to form a stable calcium carbonate — a.k.a. limestone — permanently locking up the CO2.
Unlike mine tailings however, slag doesn’t begin as a fine powder. Instead, the molten byproducts poured off from high-temperature steel furnaces cool into chunks the size of large rocks, leaving only their outer surfaces exposed to the air and able to react with CO2. Karbonetiq’s strategy is essentially to crush and disperse those rocks to increase their reactive surface area. As the company’s commercial vice president, Luke Rondel, explained, “We crush [the slag] down so you get smaller particle sizes. We then spread that out in a field of material, and we till that material with a tractor and plow, which is just turning over new surfaces.”
Each pathway has its advantages — while Arca’s magnesium-rich mine tailings are the most abundant feedstock, Rondel told me that the calcium-based reactions in slag happen significantly faster. For its part, Frontier hopes to test and evaluate a range of approaches at its new Surficial Mineralization Hub in Quebec, which it announced at the end of April. Located at a former asbestos mine, the hub will give participating startups access to “10,000 tons of serpentinite tailings and space for pilot scale testing,” Bebbington Valori told me, as well as local labs with specialized equipment.
This should eliminate some of the hurdles facing the nascent sector, chief among them being access to the right kinds of reactive rocks. Small startups “really need to either partner with large academic labs or with large mining companies to get access to that feedstock,” Bebbington Valori told me — a difficult and expensive proposition for a company that’s just getting off the ground.
While Frontier has yet to announce the cohort of participating startups, both Arca and Karbonetiq told me they hope to test their technology there, with the latter planning what would be one of its first mine tailings pilots through the program. Ultimately the goal is to generate the proof points needed to give both the startups and Frontier a clearer roadmap for which approaches can realistically scale — and what kind of support they’ll need to get there.
It certainly won’t be a straightforward process — bringing new technology into old-school industries never is — and the economics will only start to pencil if their operations reach meaningful scale. In theory, mining companies could benefit from hosting surficial mineralization projects, whether through site access fees, outsourcing elements of waste management, or even critical minerals recovery. Miners could even develop and scale the technology themselves, if they so desire. But the sector has historically been reluctant to adopt new tech. “The classic quote is, in mining you always want to be No. 2, you don’t want to be the first one,” Dipple told me. “You don’t want to put up a $2 billion plant that doesn’t work.”
So like nearly everything in the carbon removal space, early execution is falling to the startups that aren’t afraid of a little risk. “They’re watching for sure,” Dipple said of the mining industry at large. “But they want to be No. 2. We’re going to have to be No. 1.”