You’ve reached your free article limit
Log in
To continue reading, log in to your account.
Create a Free Account
To unlock more free articles, please create a free account.
Sign In or Create an Account.
By continuing, you agree to the Terms of Service and acknowledge our Privacy Policy
Welcome to Heatmap
Thank you for registering with Heatmap. Climate change is one of the greatest challenges of our lives, a force reshaping our economy, our politics, and our culture. We hope to be your trusted, friendly, and insightful guide to that transformation. Please enjoy your free articles. You can check your profile here .
subscribe to get Unlimited access
Offer for a Heatmap News Unlimited Access subscription; please note that your subscription will renew automatically unless you cancel prior to renewal. Cancellation takes effect at the end of your current billing period. We will let you know in advance of any price changes. Taxes may apply. Offer terms are subject to change.
Subscribe to get unlimited Access
Hey, you are out of free articles but you are only a few clicks away from full access. Subscribe below and take advantage of our introductory offer.
subscribe to get Unlimited access
Offer for a Heatmap News Unlimited Access subscription; please note that your subscription will renew automatically unless you cancel prior to renewal. Cancellation takes effect at the end of your current billing period. We will let you know in advance of any price changes. Taxes may apply. Offer terms are subject to change.
Create Your Account
Please Enter Your Password
Forgot your password?
Please enter the email address you use for your account so we can send you a link to reset your password:
A fifth of U.S. counties now restrict renewables development, according to exclusive data gathered by Heatmap Pro.

A solar farm 40 minutes south of Columbus, Ohio.
A grid-scale battery near the coast of Nassau County, Long Island.
A sprawling wind farm — capable of generating enough electricity to power 100,000 homes — at the northern edge of Nebraska.
These projects — and hundreds of others — will never get built in the United States. They were blocked and ultimately killed by a regulatory sea-change that has reshaped how local governments consider and approve energy projects. One by one, counties and municipalities across the country are passing laws that heavily curtail the construction of new renewable power plants.
These laws are slowing the energy transition and raising costs for utility ratepayers. And the problem is getting worse.
The development of new wind and solar power plants is now heavily restricted or outright banned in about one in five counties across the country, according to a new and extensive survey of public records and local ordinances conducted by Heatmap News.
“That’s a lot,” Nicholas Bagley, a professor at the University of Michigan Law School, told us. Bagley said the “rash of new land use restrictions” owes partly to the increasing politicization of renewable energy.
Across the country, separate rules restrict renewables construction in 605 counties. In some cases, the rules greatly constrain where renewables can be built, such as by requiring that wind turbines must be placed miles from homes, or that solar farms may not take up more than 1% of a county’s agricultural land. In hundreds of other cases, the rules simply forbid new wind or solar construction at all.
Even in the liberal Northeast, where climate concern is high and municipalities broadly control the land use process, the number of restrictions is rising. At least 59 townships and municipalities have curtailed or outright banned new wind and solar farms across the Northeast, according to Heatmap’s survey.
Even though America has built new wind and solar projects for decades, the number of counties restricting renewable development has nearly doubled since 2022.

When the various state, county, and municipality-level ordinances are combined, roughly 17% of the total land mass of the continental United States has been marked as off limits to renewables construction.
These figures have not been previously reported. Over the past 12 months, our energy intelligence platform Heatmap Pro has conducted what it believes to be the most comprehensive survey of county and municipality-level renewables restrictions in the United States. In part, that research included surveys of existing databases of local news and county laws, including those prepared by the Sabin Center for Climate Change Law at Columbia University.
But our research team has also called thousands of counties, many of whose laws were not in existing public databases, and we have updated our data in real time as counties passed ordinances and opposed projects progress (or not) through the zoning process. This data is normally available to companies and individuals who subscribe to Heatmap Pro. In this story, we are making a high-level summary of this data available to the public for the first time.
Restrictions have proliferated in all regions of the country.
Forty counties in Virginia alone now have an anti-renewable law on the books, effectively halting solar development in large portions of the state, even as the region experiences blistering electricity load growth.
These anti-solar laws have even begun to slow down energy development across the sunny Southwest. Counties in Nevada and Arizona have rejected new solar development in the same parts of the state that have already seen a high number of solar projects, our data show. Since President Trump took office in January, the effect of these local rules have become more acute — while solar developers could previously avoid the rules by proposing projects on federal land, a permitting slowdown at the Bureau of Land Management is now styming solar projects of all types in the region, as our colleague Jael Holzman has reported.
In the Northeast and on the West Coast, where Democrats control most state governments, towns and counties are still successfully fighting and cancelling dozens of new energy projects. Battery electricity storage systems, or BESS projects, now draw particular ire. The high-profile case of the battery fire in Moss Landing, California, in January has led to a surge of local opposition to BESS projects, our data shows. So far in 2025, residents have cited the Moss Landing case when fighting at least six different BESS projects nationwide.
That’s what happened with Jupiter Power, the battery project proposed in Nassau County, Long Island. The 275-megawatt project was first proposed in 2022 for the Town of Oyster Bay, New York. It would have replaced a petroleum terminal and improved the resilience of the local power grid.
But opposed residents began attending public meetings to agitate about perceived fire and environmental risks, and in spring 2024 successfully lobbied the town to pass a six-month moratorium on battery storage systems. The developer of the battery storage system, Jupiter Power, announced it would withdraw after the town passed two consecutive extensions to the moratorium and residents continued agitating for tighter restrictions.
That pattern — a town passes a temporary moratorium that it repeatedly extends — is how many projects now die in the United States.
The Nebraska wind project, North Fork Wind, was effectively shuttered when Knox County passed a permanent wind-energy ban. And the solar project south of Columbus, Ohio? It died when the Ohio Power Siting Board ruled that “that any benefits to the local community are outweighed by public opposition” to the project, which would have generated 70 megawatts, enough to power about 9,000 homes.
The developers of both of these projects are now waging lengthy and expensive legal appeals to save them; neither has won yet. Even in cases where the developer ultimately prevails against a local law, opposition can waste years and raise the final cost of a project by millions of dollars.
Our Heatmap Pro platform models opposition history alongside demographic, employment, voting, and exclusive polling data to quantify the risk a project will face in every county in the country, allowing developers to avoid places where they are likely to be unsuccessful and strategize for those where they have a chance.
Access to the full project- and county-level data and associated risk assessments is available via Heatmap Pro.
Log in
To continue reading, log in to your account.
Create a Free Account
To unlock more free articles, please create a free account.
‘Our entire company was built for this purpose.’
After decades of stagnation, the nuclear industry has drummed up all kinds of ideas meant to revive the prospects for building reactors in the United States. Make the reactors smaller. Micro, even! Cool them with helium or molten salt instead of water. Invite the Koreans or Canadians to come teach us how to construct atomic power stations again.
Yet the startup bold enough to name itself The Nuclear Company launched in 2024 on a simpler thesis: Just go with the large-scale reactors we have built before, and construct them in bulk to bring down costs.
Essentially, do what the Chinese did.
While the U.S. struggled for 15 years to complete its first two Westinghouse AP1000s, the 1.1-gigawatt units designed at the dawn of this century to be America’s flagship nuclear technology, China built four in the same time period. Beijing then reverse-engineered the technology to make its own version with an entirely domestic supply chain. China now has 10 operating Hualong One reactors and at least 37 more on the way. The U.S. ultimately completed its first two AP1000s at Southern Company’s Alvin W. Vogtle Electric Generating Plant in eastern Georgia right around the same time.
The Nuclear Company was formed by hiring former managers who oversaw the Georgia project. Despite the Trump administration’s pledge to finance construction of at least 10 more large nuclear reactors, the only projects that have broken ground are new, first-of-a-kind small modular reactors that skeptics fear will face the same billion-dollar cost overruns that the AP1000s faced at Plant Vogtle — but without the same output of electricity to balance out the expenses.
On Wednesday morning, The Nuclear Company announced its most significant attempt at a Chinese-scale buildout yet. The firm unveiled plans to build 6.6 gigawatts of new, large-scale reactors at a greenfield site in Kentucky, along the Ohio River. Dubbed Prosperity One, the project would be located in Lewis County, on property once assembled for a coal-fired station that was later abandoned. The site sits half a mile from a 765-kilovolt transmission line that connects to PJM Interconnection, the nation’s second-largest and arguably most stressed grid system.
“Our entire company was built for this purpose,” Joe Klecha, The Nuclear Company’s chief nuclear officer and a former manager on the Plant Vogtle buildout, told me. “We recognize that this is different and unique in our country. We believe it’s very much needed.”
The project will begin with two reactors at a time; the Kentucky site has room for up to six. The Nuclear Company is already negotiating potential offtake agreements with electricity buyers to help finance construction, and it expects deals by next year. The company told me it has not yet decided whether it will run the Prosperity One as an independent power provider or sell the facility to a utility or another plant operator. “We are preserving all options and will make that decision as we pull the other partners onboard formally,” Klecha said.
Since its inception, The Nuclear Company has focused on the AP1000 as the most promising design in the U.S. That’s particularly true after the Nuclear Regulatory Commission certified the Vogtle Unit 4 design last week as the permanent, settled schematic for future AP1000s.
But Klecha left open the possibility of another technology. “The AP1000 is our basis for the site at this point, but we’ll continue to evaluate other options as we get through the site characterization,” he said. He expects that process to wrap up in “the first half of next year.”
The company’s options are limited, though. Last month, as I reported, South Korea agreed to help the U.S. build up to six new AP1000s at an as-yet-unspecified site in addition to constructing at least two APR1400s — that is, essentially the Korean version of the American technology. In theory, The Nuclear Company could build APR1400s, too. But it’s highly unlikely, since Westinghouse accused the state-owned Korea Electric Power Corporation of ripping off its technology for the APR1400 in 2022. That led to a yearslong lawsuit and settlement that gave the American company the right to demand royalties and keep Seoul out of markets where Westinghouse aims to compete.
The only other viable option is the ABWR. The world’s first so-called advanced reactor, the ABWR was built with General Electric’s boiling water reactor technology, which is used across about a third of the U.S. fleet. It serves as the second-most popular design after Westinghouse’s pressurized water reactor model. Japan successfully built four ABWRs over a decade from 1996 to 2006, and Taiwan nearly completed two before killing the project in a bid to phase out nuclear power altogether. The NRC certified the ABWR for construction in the U.S., but a project in southern Texas that aimed to build the first in the U.S. was scrapped about a decade ago.
“The ABWR has an impressive pedigree of construction success as well as experience being built to U.S. standards that is hard to find outside of the Vogtle project,” Brett Rampal, a veteran nuclear consultant who advises Deloitte and Veriten, told me. Still, he said, the AP1000 is the leading contender for the Kentucky site.
Rampal said Prosperity One represents a welcome break from how large-scale reactors have been planned in recent years. While most of the industry remains focused on small modular reactors, research I covered last month indicates the technologies could face worse cost problems than large-scale units, and the emerging consensus on building AP1000s focuses on expanding existing nuclear plants.
Indeed, The Nuclear Company’s first major deal was to help Brookfield Asset Management, which owns 51% of Westinghouse, complete a thwarted AP1000 project at the V.C. Summer plant in South Carolina. But other potential sites considered for new AP1000s included expansions of Florida Power & Light’s Turkey Point nuclear plant in Florida, the Tennessee Valley Authority’s Bellefonte nuclear station in Alabama, or even adding another two units to Plant Vogtle.
“A lot of the thoughts around AP1000s and large reactors have always been around existing or already-licensed sites,” Rampal said. “It’s very interesting to see TNC’s first project buck the trend of what folks have been talking about around the large reactor story in this country."
At least one thing is certain about The Nuclear Company’s approach: It will settle on one design. The company is animated by the need to avoid one of the U.S. nuclear industry’s biggest financial mistakes, known simply and derisively as “Whoops.” In 1983, the Washington Public Power Supply System — WPPSS — triggered what was then the largest municipal bond default in U.S. history after its buildout of several different reactor designs at once fell apart in a major boondoggle.
Building different reactors at Prosperity One “really goes against our mission, our vision, and our thesis as a company,” Klecha confirmed.
The key is repeating the same design over and over again so the project managers sort out the fastest, most efficient ways to build and workers hone skills in actually constructing the design. “Six AP1000 units on one site creates the scale and repetition needed to drive down costs and sends a strong signal to the supply chain,” Lin Yuan, the senior advisor at the Nuclear Scaling Initiative, a non-profit collaboration working to create the enabling commercial and policy conditions for safe and secure nuclear energy scaling, told me in an email. “Manufacturers and craft labor need to see a sustained order pipeline to invest in capacity, factory expansion, and training.”
Vogtle Unit 4 came online in 2024 roughly 30% cheaper and faster than Vogtle Unit 3, completed a year earlier. Klecha said that’s the minimum cost reduction The Nuclear Company expects for the first two reactors built at Prosperity One.
“The 30%, I would say, is the floor on the savings from the first unit to the second unit,” he said. “How do we capture those lessons? Obviously, our team’s experience. We have a pretty rigorous ‘lessons learned’ document.”
Soon, he hopes, there will be even more lessons learned — in concrete, rather than on paper.