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Home to two million people, the Gaza Strip sits squeezed between Israel and the Mediterranean Sea on a bit of land just twice the size of Washington, D.C. Gaza is the smaller part of Palestine’s two territories; you could walk the length of its southern border with Egypt in under three hours. But land is not the only thing that’s long been in short supply in Gaza. As the war between Israel and Hamas, the Palestinian militant group that rules the region, has made clear, Gaza is also increasingly bereft of water.
Over the course of the tragic war, water infrastructure has played an unprecedented role. In the aftermath of Hamas’s massacre and kidnapping of Israeli civilians on October 7, the Israeli government took measures to halt drinking water — as well as aid, food, and electricity — from entering the Strip. First, on October 9, Israel shut off the pipelines that usually send water into Gaza and halted deliveries by truck. And while it turned back on some of the pipelines on October 15, it didn’t restart the electricity or the fuel shipments that power Gaza’s desalination and wastewater treatment plants.
Yet these harsh measures in recent weeks belie a much longer-term problem, as a deeper dive into the region’s infrastructure reveals. Palestinians in Gaza have not had access to safe or ample drinking water for decades.
“The water crisis that Gaza is facing is a chronic crisis,” Dr. Shaddad Attili, the former Palestinian minister of water and head of the Palestinian Water Authority (PWA) from 2008 to 2014, told me. “But now water is being used as a weapon. If they don’t get killed by missiles, they will die from the contaminated water that they’re using.”
The Israeli Defense Forces, the water authority in the West Bank, and COGAT, the Israeli body responsible for the government activities in the Palestinian territories, all did not reply to requests for comment by the time of publication.
There are three natural water resources that run through Israel and Palestine: the Jordan River Basin on the eastern border; the Mountain Aquifer, which runs directly through the West Bank; and the Coastal Aquifer, on which Israel is upstream and Gaza is downstream. The majority of the water comes from these three sources, but since the region is a desert geography, water is generally in short supply.
Israel acquired control over all the water that runs through the Israeli and Palestinian territories in the Six-Day War in 1967 when it seized the Gaza Strip from Egypt, the West Bank from Jordan, and the Golan Heights in the north from Syria. In November of that year, Israel introduced a military order stating that Palestinians could not construct any new water infrastructure without first obtaining a permit from the Israeli army. Israel gave, and continues to give, these permits sparingly.
Today, the water discrepancy is striking. While there are eight times more Palestinians living in the West Bank than Israeli settlers, 70% of the water output is given to the settlements, where it is largely used for farming, according to an April 2023 report on the West Bank’s water deprivation by the Israeli humanitarian organization, B’Tselem.
During the Oslo Accords in the mid-1990s, the West Bank won some rights to run their own pumping stations in select parts of the territory. Today, they still need to earn permits from the Israeli military in order to build new pumping stations. Gaza used to pump their water from the Coastal Aquifer, but developments over the past 30 years have made that water inaccessible.
Prior to this war, the water situation in Gaza was already dire. The World Health Organization said that Gaza’s water supply was unable to meet the minimum requirement for daily per capita water consumption.
Gaza has some unregulated pumping stations that pull water up from the aquifer, but they’re not a major cause of the problem. The Coastal Aquifer extends from a town called Binyamina in Northern Israel to the Sinai Desert in Egypt. Just 2% of the total aquifer passes through Gaza. Through the late 1990s, it supplied drinkable tap water to most of Gaza’s residents. While it historically has provided 95% of their freshwater, it’s unusable now for a few reasons.
First, Gaza’s population growth rate is among the highest in the world, with almost half of the population under 18 years old in 2022. High population growth means the already scarce groundwater can no longer replenish fast enough to meet demand.
But there are deeper problems with the water’s quality. Seawater seeps into the aquifer since it’s so close to the coast and untreated wastewater has polluted the aquifer for decades to a point that it’s no longer safe to drink. In 2020, a study in the journal Water said that the quality of groundwater in the Coastal Aquifer had “deteriorated rapidly,” largely due to Israeli pumping.
“At least 95% of the freshwater (from the aquifer) is either inaccessible or not drinkable,” said Jordan Fischbach, director of planning and policy research at The Water Institute and author of a report on the public health impacts of Gaza’s water crisis in 2018.
As a result, the Coastal Aquifer — the primary source of Gaza’s water — is essentially out of commission. Residents of Gaza are now left with only about 20% of their needs filled.
But those sources have also proven to be unreliable.
The first are the pipelines, which were built with funding from international humanitarian aid. The pipelines run from Israel-controlled fresh aquifers and the water is paid for by the Palestinian National Authority (PA) in the West Bank. These are the pipelines that Israel stopped sending water from following Hamas’ attack on Israeli civilians.
But even in the best of times, the pipelines only supply around 10% of the water demand in Gaza. Attili from the Palestinian National Authority said that the water is combined with some of the unsafe brackish water in order to increase volume.
The second source of water are small-scale desalination plants, which turn seawater into potable water, but they rely on electricity to run.
Usually they provide another 10% of Gaza’s water, but when Israel halted the importation of fuel and shut down electricity transmission into Gaza, these plants stopped running too.
However, even when electricity and fuel are available, over one-third of plants are not monitored, maintained, or officially regulated. “A number of construction materials, fuel and other things you would need to build and power drinking and wastewater facilities are considered ‘dual use.’” said Fischbach, meaning they could also be used to build weapons. “These are types of materials that are restricted by both Egyptian and Israeli authorities.”
A 2021 study showed that 79% of desalination plants are unlicensed and 12% of water samples tested showed dangerous contamination levels.
“Desalination is necessary to get anything even close to drinking water quality and only a fraction of [desalination plants] are actually licensed and monitored” said Fischbach. “Many of them are producing water that we would still consider below drinking water quality.”
He added that most of them don’t run to their capacity anyways because they are so energy intensive and Gaza doesn’t have enough electricity.
Gaza also gets water from water trucks controlled by humanitarian aid or delivered by the Palestinian National Authority. This water passes directly through Israeli land, which means Israel was able to easily halt deliveries in the wake of the Hamas attacks.
In recent weeks, some residents of Gaza have resorted to drinking sea water or brackish water directly from the Coastal Aquifer. Not only are these not sources of freshwater, they are also further polluted by untreated sewage running through the region.
Israel’s decision to cut electricity to Gaza also meant that the wastewater treatment plants can’t run. Treated wastewater is used for showering and other sanitation uses. But when it’s not processed through a plant, wastewater runs into the aquifer and groundwater, further polluting what’s left of their drinking sources.
While the situation is worse due to the lack of electricity from the war, Gaza has never had ample wastewater treatment plants.
“For two decades now Palestinians have been prevented from building and maintaining the infrastructures that keep wastewater out of the aquifer,” says Sophia Stamatopoulou-Robbins, a cultural anthropologist and professor at Bard College. She is the author of Waste Siege: the Life and Infrastructure of Palestine.
In the West Bank, the aquifer is deep, carrying around 340 million cubic meters of water every year, so wastewater that has been somewhat treated can be further cleaned by soil and rock as it seeps through the aquifer. But Gaza’s aquifer is very shallow — its estimated to carry only about 55 million cubic meters per year —, and therefore cannot clean the water. Instead, it needs extensive infrastructure.
“In Gaza, you would need an incredibly high sophistication of technology to permit the wastewater to go safely into the ground,” says Stamatopoulou-Robbins. “Even the kind of concrete containers that would hold wastewater are not permitted to be maintained or built.”
In addition to the plants themselves, you would need piping to connect buildings to the wastewater treatment plants, she adds. “So all of the conveyance technology and infrastructure which is expensive anywhere in the world, all of that is subject to Israeli controls and tends to be prevented.”
As is the case with desalination plants, neither Israel nor Egypt allows the necessary materials into Gaza for building wastewater treatment plants because those materials are also considered dual-use materials.
Even as Israel turned the water and electricity back on, there are questions around how many of these desalination and wastewater treatment plants have been bombed and are no longer running.
As far as logistically turning off these resources, it’s fairly straightforward. “The ability to shut off electricity transmission is quite easy,” said Fischbach. “It’s just flipping a switch — the same way with a rolling blackout. Fuel imports are also easy. Nothing is going into Gaza. As far as drinking water lines, you can just not pump that water. So the logistics are easy.”
Several reports of hygiene related diseases spreading through cramped spaces are surfacing in recent days. Doctors in Gaza are saying that patients are showing signs of disease caused by overcrowding and poor sanitation. Children are suffering from diarrhea, lung infections, and rashes.
“The desalination plants are out of service because there’s no electricity, the sewage treatment plants are out of service because there is no electricity. And because our people now take refuge in shelters, there is a hygiene problem,” said Attili. “I have gone to so many conferences where we say water is a tool for cooperation, not conflict, and they all agree, but now the international community remains silent.”
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And for his energy czar, Doug Burgum.
When Trump enters the Oval Office again in January, there are some climate change-related programs he could roll back or revise immediately, some that could take years to dismantle, and some that may well be beyond his reach. And then there’s carbon capture and storage.
For all the new regulations and funding the Biden administration issued to reduce emissions and advance the clean energy economy over the past four years, it did little to update the regulatory environment for carbon capture and storage. The Treasury Department never clarified how the changes to the 45Q tax credit for carbon capture under the Inflation Reduction Act affect eligibility. The Department of Transportation has not published its proposal for new safety rules for pipelines that transport carbon dioxide. And the Environmental Protection Agency has yet to determine whether it will give Texas permission to regulate its own carbon dioxide storage wells, a scenario that some of the state’s own representatives advise against.
That means, as the BloombergNEF policy associate Derrick Flakoll put it in an analysis published prior to the election, “the next administration and Congress will encounter a blank canvas of carbon capture infrastructure rules they can shape freely.”
Carbon capture is unique among climate technologies because it is, in most cases, a pure cost with no monetizable benefit. That means the policy environment — that great big blank canvas — is essential to determining which projects actually get built and whether the ones that do are actually useful for fighting climate change.
The next administration may or may not decide to take an interest in carbon capture, of course, but there’s reason to expect it will. Doug Burgum, Trump’s pick for the Department of the Interior who will also head up a new National Energy Council, has been a vocal supporter of carbon capture projects in his home state of North Dakota. Although Trump’s team will be looking for subsidies to cut in order to offset the tax breaks he has promised, his deep-pocketed supporters in the oil and gas industry who have made major investments in carbon capture based, in part, on the 45Q tax credit, will not want to see it on the chopping block. And carbon capture typically enjoys bipartisan support in Congress.
Congress first created the carbon capture tax credit in 2008, under the auspices of cleaning up the image of coal plants. Lawmakers updated the credit in 2018, and then again in 2022 with the Inflation Reduction Act, each iteration increasing the credit amount and expanding the types of projects that are eligible. Companies can now get up to $85 for every ton of CO2 captured from an industrial plant and sequestered underground, and $180 for every ton captured directly from the air. Combined with grants and loans in the 2021 Bipartisan Infrastructure Law, the changes have driven a surge in carbon capture and storage projects in the United States. More than 150 projects have been announced since the start of 2022, according to a database maintained by the International Energy Agency, compared to fewer than 100 over the four years prior.
Many of these projects are notably different from what has been proposed and tried in the past. Historically in the U.S., carbon capture has been used on coal-fired power plants, ethanol refineries, and at natural gas processing facilities, and almost all of the captured gas has been pumped into aging oil fields to help push more fuel out of the ground. But the new policy environment spurred at least some proposals in industries with few other options to decarbonize, including cement, hydrogen, and steel production. It also catalyzed projects that suck carbon directly from the air, versus capturing emissions at the source. Most developers now say they plan to sequester captured carbon underground rather than use it to drill for oil.
Only a handful of projects are actually under construction, however, and the prospects for others reaching that point are far from guaranteed. Inflation has eroded the value of the 45Q tax credit, Madelyn Morrison, the government affairs director for the Carbon Capture Coalition, told me. “Coupled with that, project deployment costs have really skyrocketed over the past several years. Some folks have said that equipment costs have gone up upwards of 50%,” she said.
Others aren’t sure whether they’ll even qualify, Flakoll told me. “There is a sort of shadow struggle going on over how permissive the credit is going to be in practice,” he said. For example, the IRA says that power plants have to capture 75% of their baseline emissions to be eligible, but it doesn’t specify how to calculate those baseline emissions. The Treasury solicited input on these questions and others shortly after the IRA passed. Comments raised concerns about how projects that share pipeline infrastructure should track and report their carbon sequestration claims. Environmental groups sought updates to the reporting and verification requirements to prevent taxpayer money from funding false or inflated claims. A 2020 investigation by the inspector general for tax administration found that during the first decade of the program, nearly $900 billion in tax credits were claimed for projects that did not comply with EPA reporting requirements. But the Treasury never followed up its request for comment with a proposed rule.
Permitting for carbon sequestration sites has also lagged. The Environmental Protection Agency has issued final permits for just one carbon sequestration project over the past four years, with a total of two wells. Fifty-five applications are currently under review.
Carbon dioxide pipeline projects have also faced opposition from local governments and landowners. In California, where lawmakers have generally supported the use of carbon capture for achieving state climate goals, and where more than a dozen projects have been announced, the legislature placed a moratorium on CO2 pipeline development until the federal government updates its safety regulations.
The incoming Congress and presidential administration could clear away some of these hurdles. Congress is already expected to get rid of or rewrite many of the IRA’s tax credit programs when it opens the tax code to address other provisions that expire next year. The Carbon Capture Coalition and other proponents are advocating for another increase to the value of the 45Q tax credit to adjust it for inflation. Trump’s Treasury department will have free rein to issue rules that make the credit as cheap and easy as possible to claim. The EPA, under new leadership, could also speed up carbon storage permitting or, perhaps more likely, grant primacy over permitting to the states.
But other Trump administration priorities could end up hurting carbon capture development. The projects with the surest path forward are the ones with the lowest cost of capture and multiple pathways for revenue generation, Rohan Dighe, a research analyst at Wood Mackenzie told me. For example, ethanol plants emit a relatively pure stream of CO2 that’s easy to capture, and doing so enables producers to access low-carbon fuel markets in California and Washington. Carbon capture at a steel plant or power plant is much more difficult, by contrast, as the flue gas contains a mix of pollutants.
On those facilities, the 45Q tax credit is too low to justify the cost, Dighe said, and other sources of revenue such as price premiums for green products are uncertain. “The Trump administration's been pretty clear in terms of wanting to deregulate, broadly speaking,” Dighe said, pointing to plans to axe the EPA’s power plant rules and the Securities and Exchange Commission’s climate disclosure requirements. “So those sorts of drivers for some of these projects moving forward are going to be removed.”
That means projects will depend more on voluntary corporate sustainability initiatives to justify investment. Does Amazon want to build a data center in West Texas? Is it willing to pay a premium for clean electricity from a natural gas plant that captures and stores its carbon?
But the regulatory environment still matters. Flakoll will be watching to see whether lax monitoring and reporting rules for carbon capture, if enacted, will hurt trust and acceptance of carbon capture projects to the point that companies find it difficult to find buyers for their products or insurance companies to underwrite them.
“There will be a more of a policy push for [CCS] to enter the market,” Flakoll said. “But it takes two to tango, and there's a question of how much the private sector will respond to that.”
What he wants them to do is one thing. What they’ll actually do is far less certain.
Donald Trump believes that tariffs have almost magical power to bring prosperity; as he said last month, “To me, the world’s most beautiful word in the dictionary is tariffs. It’s my favorite word.” In case anyone doubted his sincerity, before Thanksgiving he announced his intention to impose 25% tariffs on everything coming from Canada and Mexico, and an additional 10% tariff on all Chinese goods.
This is just the beginning. If the trade war he launched in his first term was haphazard and accomplished very little except costing Americans money, in his second term he plans to go much further. And the effects of these on clean energy and climate change will be anything but straightforward.
The theory behind tariffs is that by raising the price of an imported good, they give a stronger footing in the market; eventually, the domestic producer may no longer need the tariff to be competitive. Imposing a tariff means we’ve decided that a particular industry is important enough that it needs this kind of support — or as some might call it, protection — even if it means higher prices for a while.
The problem with across-the-board tariffs of the kind Trump proposes is that they create higher prices even for goods that are not being produced domestically and probably never will be. If tariffs raise the price of a six-pack of tube socks at Target from $9.99 to $14.99, it won’t mean we’ll start making tube socks in America again. It just means you’ll pay more. The same is often true for domestic industries that use foreign parts in their manufacturing: If no one is producing those parts domestically, their costs will unavoidably rise.
The U.S. imported over $3 trillion worth of goods in 2023, and $426 billion from China alone, so Trump’s proposed tariffs would represent hundreds of billions of dollars of increased costs. That’s before we account for the inevitable retaliatory tariffs, which is what we saw in Trump’s first term: He imposed tariffs on China, which responded by choking off its imports of American agricultural goods. In the end, the revenue collected from Trump’s tariffs went almost entirely to bailing out farmers whose export income disappeared.
The past almost-four years under Joe Biden have seen a series of back-and-forth moves in which new tariffs were announced, other tariffs were increased, exemptions were removed and reinstated. For instance, this May Biden increased the tariff on Chinese electric vehicles to over 100% while adding tariffs on certain EV batteries. But some of the provisions didn’t take effect right away, and only certain products were affected, so the net economic impact was minimal. And there’s been nothing like an across-the-board tariff.
It’s reasonable to criticize Biden’s tariff policies related to climate. But his administration was trying to navigate a dilemma, serving two goals at once: reducing emissions and promoting the development of domestic clean energy technology. Those goals are not always in alignment, at least in the short run, which we can see in the conflict within the solar industry. Companies that sell and install solar equipment benefit from cheap Chinese imports and therefore oppose tariffs, while domestic manufacturers want the tariffs to continue so they can be more competitive. The administration has attempted to accommodate both interests with a combination of subsidies to manufacturers and tariffs on certain kinds of imports — with exemptions peppered here and there. It’s been a difficult balancing act.
Then there are electric vehicles. The world’s largest EV manufacturer is Chinese company BYD, but if you haven’t seen any of their cars on the road, it’s because existing tariffs make it virtually impossible to import Chinese EVs to the United States. That will continue to be the case under Trump, and it would have been the case if Kamala Harris had been elected.
On one hand, it’s important for America to have the strongest possible green industries to insulate us from future supply shocks and create as many jobs-of-the-future as possible. On the other hand, that isn’t necessarily the fastest route to emissions reductions. In a world where we’ve eliminated all tariffs on EVs, the U.S. market would be flooded with inexpensive, high-quality Chinese EVs. That would dramatically accelerate adoption, which would be good for the climate.
But that would also deal a crushing blow to the American car industry, which is why neither party will allow it. What may happen, though, is that Chinese car companies may build factories in Mexico, or even here in the U.S., just as many European and Japanese companies have, so that their cars wouldn’t be subject to tariffs. That will take time.
Of course, whatever happens will depend on Trump following through with his tariff promise. We’ve seen before how he declares victory even when he only does part of what he promised, which could happen here. Once he begins implementing his tariffs, his administration will be immediately besieged by a thousand industries demanding exemptions, carve-outs, and delays in the tariffs that affect them. Many will have powerful advocates — members of Congress, big donors, and large groups of constituents — behind them. It’s easy to imagine how “across-the-board” tariffs could, in practice, turn into Swiss cheese.
There’s no way to know yet which parts of the energy transition will be in the cheese, and which parts will be in the holes. The manufacturers can say that helping them will stick it to China; the installers may not get as friendly an audience with Trump and his team. And the EV tariffs certainly aren’t going anywhere.
There’s a great deal of uncertainty, but one thing is clear: This is a fight that will continue for the entirety of Trump’s term, and beyond.
Give the people what they want — big, family-friendly EVs.
The star of this year’s Los Angeles Auto Show was the Hyundai Ioniq 9, a rounded-off colossus of an EV that puts Hyundai’s signature EV styling on a three-row SUV cavernous enough to carry seven.
I was reminded of two years ago, when Hyundai stole the L.A. show with a different EV: The reveal of Ioniq 6, its “streamliner” aerodynamic sedan that looked like nothing else on the market. By comparison, Ioniq 9 is a little more banal. It’s a crucial vehicle that will occupy the large end of Hyundai's excellent and growing lineup of electric cars, and one that may sell in impressive numbers to large families that want to go electric. Even with all the sleek touches, though, it’s not quite interesting. But it is big, and at this moment in electric vehicles, big is what’s in.
The L.A. show is one the major events on the yearly circuit of car shows, where the car companies traditionally reveal new models for the media and show off their whole lineups of vehicles for the public. Given that California is the EV capital of America, carmakers like to talk up their electric models here.
Hyundai’s brand partner, Kia, debuted a GT performance version of its EV9, adding more horsepower and flashy racing touches to a giant family SUV. Jeep reminded everyone of its upcoming forays into full-size and premium electric SUVs in the form of the Recon and the Wagoneer S. VW trumpeted the ID.Buzz, the long-promised electrified take on the classic VW Microbus that has finally gone on sale in America. The VW is the quirkiest of the lot, but it’s a design we’ve known about since 2017, when the concept version was revealed.
Boring isn’t the worst thing in the world. It can be a sign of a maturing industry. At auto shows of old, long before this current EV revolution, car companies would bring exotic, sci-fi concept cars to dial up the intrigue compared to the bread-and-butter, conservatively styled vehicles that actually made them gobs of money. During the early EV years, electrics were the shiny thing to show off at the car show. Now, something of the old dynamic has come to the electric sector.
Acura and Chrysler brought wild concepts to Los Angeles that were meant to signify the direction of their EVs to come. But most of the EVs in production looked far more familiar. Beyond the new hulking models from Hyundai and Kia, much of what’s on offer includes long-standing models, but in EV (Chevy Equinox and Blazer) or plug-in hybrid (Jeep Grand Cherokee and Wrangler) configurations. One of the most “interesting” EVs on the show floor was the Cybertruck, which sat quietly in a barely-staffed display of Tesla vehicles. (Elon Musk reveals his projects at separate Tesla events, a strategy more carmakers have begun to steal as a way to avoid sharing the spotlight at a car show.)
The other reason boring isn’t bad: It’s what the people want. The majority of drivers don’t buy an exotic, fun vehicle. They buy a handsome, spacious car they can afford. That last part, of course, is where the problem kicks in.
We don’t yet know the price of the Ioniq 9, but it’s likely to be in the neighborhood of Kia’s three-row electric, the EV9, which starts in the mid-$50,000s and can rise steeply from there. Stellantis’ forthcoming push into the EV market will start with not only pricey premium Jeep SUVs, but also some fun, though relatively expensive, vehicles like the heralded Ramcharger extended-range EV truck and the Dodge Charger Daytona, an attempt to apply machismo-oozing, alpha-male muscle-car marketing to an electric vehicle.
You can see the rationale. It costs a lot to build a battery big enough to power a big EV, so they’re going to be priced higher. Helpfully for the car brands, Americans have proven they will pay a premium for size and power. That’s not to say we’re entering an era of nothing but bloated EV battleships. Models such as the overpowered electric Dodge Charger and Kia EV9 GT will reveal the appetite for performance EVs. Smaller models like the revived Chevy Bolt and Kia’s EV3, already on sale overseas, are coming to America, tax credit or not.
The question for the legacy car companies is where to go from here. It takes years to bring a vehicle from idea to production, so the models on offer today were conceived in a time when big federal support for EVs was in place to buoy the industry through its transition. Now, though, the automakers have some clear uncertainty about what to say.
Chevy, having revealed new electrics like the Equinox EV elsewhere, did not hold a media conference at the L.A. show. Ford, which is having a hellacious time losing money on its EVs, used its time to talk up combustion vehicles including a new version of the palatial Expedition, one of the oversized gas-guzzlers that defined the first SUV craze of the 1990s.
If it’s true that the death of federal subsidies will send EV sales into a slump, we may see messaging from Detroit and elsewhere that feels decidedly retro, with very profitable combustion front-and-center and the all-electric future suddenly less of a talking point. Whatever happens at the federal level, EVs aren’t going away. But as they become a core part of the car business, they are going to get less exciting.