You’re out of free articles.
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:
Who gets to block an energy project?
One of the longest-running environmental controversies of Joe Biden’s presidency is now over, but it presages much bigger controversies to come.
Last week, the Supreme Court cleared the way for the Mountain Valley Pipeline, a 303-mile natural gas project that will link West Virginia’s booming gas fields to the East Coast’s mainline gas infrastructure. The justices lifted a halt on the project that had been imposed by a lower court. In doing so, they all but guaranteed that the project will get built.
But even if the Mountain Valley Pipeline case is over, the issues and questions at the center of the dispute are not. And they suggest that a profound and unanswered tension sits at the heart of environmental and climate law — one that concerns not only conservation, but the very nature of American democracy as well.
While environmental advocates have fought the pipeline for years, it only became a national issue when Senator Joe Manchin of West Virginia began to champion the pipeline last year. He insisted that the Biden administration back the project in exchange for his support of Biden’s flagship climate and spending bill, which became the Inflation Reduction Act.
After several failed efforts, Manchin finally found a way to help the pipeline this spring, when he got Congress to automatically approve the project as part of the bipartisan deal to raise the debt ceiling. The Fiscal Responsibility Act of 2023 — better known as the debt-ceiling deal — ordered federal agencies to issue every outstanding permit necessary for the pipeline’s construction. It declared that those permits could not be challenged in court.
Furthermore, it said that legal challenges to this accelerated decision could not be heard by the Fourth Circuit, the appeals court with jurisdiction over West Virginia, but only by the D.C. Circuit Court of Appeals. The D.C. Circuit is often described as the country’s second most powerful court; more saliently, fewer of its judges were appointed by Democratic presidents.
And that seemed like the end of the story. But in June, the Sierra Club and other environmentalist groups sued to block the Mountain Valley Pipeline again. They now alleged that Congress had violated a key Constitutional idea — the separation of powers — by rushing to approve the pipeline.
Specifically, they argued that the debt-ceiling deal violated a 151-year-old case called United States v. Klein, or just Klein for short. In that case, which revolved around several hundred cotton bales seized in Mississippi during the Civil War, the Supreme Court ruled that Congress could not pass a law that forced a court to rule on a case in a certain way. In other words, Congress may not pass a law that says: If Smith sues Jones, Smith wins.
The Sierra Club and others argue that Congress violated Klein when it automatically approved the pipeline in the debt-ceiling bill. The pipeline had been mired in permit-related lawsuits in the Fourth Circuit for years; its construction has led to dozens of alleged water-quality violations. So when Congress granted those permit approvals anyway, it was essentially doing an end-run around the appeals court. That was a clear-cut violation of Klein, environmentalists argue.
Is it so simple? In a brief supporting the pipeline, Laborer’s International Union of America argues that Congress acted entirely within its authority. Congress has essentially unlimited authority to authorize agency actions and revise court jurisdiction, the union says.
But here is the rub. To make their case, environmentalists appealed to Chief Justice John Roberts — specifically a dissent he wrote back in 2018.
That year, the Court declined to strike down an Obama-era law that told courts to “promptly dismiss” any lawsuits challenging a tribal casino in Michigan. But the majority could not agree about why, and three conservative justices — led by Roberts — dissented, arguing that the Obama-era law violated Klein because it forced the Court’s hand on a lawsuit, even if the lawsuit in question had not been filed yet.
In their case against the pipeline, the environmentalists urged the Court to adopt the logic of that dissent. And that may reveal something surprising about the tack taken by environmental groups here: Their arguments draw from what has increasingly come to seem like a conservative approach to Constitutional law. And while there are understandable reasons for this, it shows that the environmental movement may be facing a deeper crisis than it realizes. The questions now confronting the climate movement go to the center of questions over American democracy.
Above all: Who gets to rule in the American republic, and who gets to determine what is and isn’t constitutional? This is a live debate, and it goes to the center of contemporary fights over permitting reform. It is worth dwelling on for a moment.
The standard historical line is the Supreme Court, above all, decides what is and isn’t Constitutional — a power that it has claimed for itself since Marbury v. Madison in 1803.
But there is another tradition in American life, which holds that the American people, not the justices, are the final arbiter of constitutionality. President Abraham Lincoln backed this view in the run-up to the Civil War. And so did the men who created the Klein crisis.
Klein did not come out of nowhere. The case emerged during one of the most wrenching moments in our Constitutional history, when radicals and moderates battled over the meaning of the Civil War in the wake of Lincoln’s assassination.
On one side, Radical Republicans in Congress wanted to enshrine equality at the heart of the American republic, protecting the economic and civil freedoms of newly emancipated Black people and harshly punishing their traitorous Southern enslavers. On the other, moderate Republicans and Democrats sought a more reconciliatory approach to Reconstruction, welcoming former Confederate elites back into American life.
This is the background of Klein. When Congress passed the 1870 law that provoked the Klein lawsuit, it sought to prevent ex-Confederates from claiming federal money as compensation for their losses. It wanted to block a man named John Klein from being paid for cotton bales seized from his client during the Civil War, specifically because Congress believed that his client had been part of the rebellion and therefore did not deserve federal funds.
But that was part of a much broader fight between Congress, the White House, and the Supreme Court, in which radical Republican lawmakers sought to assert the people’s — and therefore Congress’s — authority to govern the other branches. Since the people created the Constitution, radicals argued, then the people had final authority over the courts that it made. “It would be a sad day for American institutions and for the sacred cause of Republican Governments if any tribunal in this land, created by the will of the people, was above and superior to the people’s power,” Representative John Bingham, an Ohio radical and the leading author of the Fourteenth Amendment, said.
That theory was revived 60 years later, when President Franklin D. Roosevelt moved to rein in a Supreme Court that kept striking down his New Deal programs. He proposed packing the court with more favorable justices, arguing that the three branches of the Constitution were like a team of three horses pulling a wagon. “It is the American people themselves who are in the driver’s seat,” he said, and therefore the people who should determine the make-up of the Court.
Although Roosevelt’s packing scheme failed, it resulted in one of the Court’s more conservative justices switching to become a more reliably pro-New Deal vote. And since Democrats controlled the Senate for all but four of the following 43 years, the Court lurched in a more liberal direction through much of the 20th century. By the 1990s, the judiciary was the favored branch of establishment liberalism, an august arbiter of civil protections as enacted in Brown v. Board of Education, Loving v. Virginia, and Roe v. Wade.
No longer. Faced with the most conservative Supreme Court in 90 years, progressives have rediscovered this forgotten controversy in the Constitution. Congress, they argue, has the power and duty to regulate the Supreme Court when it strays too far from popular will. The text of the Constitution allows Congress to set exceptions to the Court’s “appellate jurisdiction,” meaning that it could simply prevent the Court from ruling on a given topic, such as abortion or climate change.
Progressives frame this claim in small-d democratic terms, framing the Supreme Court and the electoral college as institutions designed to rob majorities of the ability to govern. “As recent events have made clear, powerful reactionaries are waging a successful war against American democracy using the countermajoritarian institutions of the American political system,” the liberal columnist Jamele Bouie wrote in The New York Times last year. But “the Constitution gives our elected officials the power to restrain a lawless Supreme Court,” he added, even if it might “spark a constitutional crisis over the power and authority of Congress.”
Conservatives have noticed this push. Last week, Justice Samuel Alito argued that Congress has no ability whatsoever to set limits on the Court’s behavior. “I know this is a controversial view, but I’m willing to say it,” Alito told The Wall Street Journal. “No provision in the Constitution gives them the authority to regulate the Supreme Court — period.”
Although Alito is speaking in broader terms, his enmity gets at the simmering Constitutional dilemma at the heart of Klein, the precedent that environmentalists are citing to try to block the Mountain Valley Pipeline. When Congress approved the pipeline earlier this year, was it expressing a democratic view that must be respected by the court system (even if climate activists don’t like it)? Or was Congress instead running roughshod over due process and violating the separation of powers?
These are not academic questions. Although Congress intervened to approve a fossil-fuel pipeline this year, it could just as easily intervene to approve clean-energy infrastructure in the future. Across the country, renewable projects and long-distance electricity transmission have been slowed down by environmental lawsuits and permitting fights; even the Sierra Club has recognized the “NIMBY threat to renewable energy.” If lawsuits were to imperil, say, a major offshore wind project, should a Democratic Congress resolve that fight by granting permit approvals by fiat — or should environmentalists reject that intervention, too, as illegitimate? Under the logic of the anti-pipeline lawsuit, granting permit approvals to any stalled energy project — whether fossil or clean — would violate Klein.
These questions matter because there is no near-term political situation in which Congress and the Supreme Court will only do good things for the climate and not bad things. But there is no way to judge them without making a political assessment: Is Congress likely to expedite a renewable project? Given Democrats’ zeal for tackling climate change, such a thing doesn’t seem ludicrous to me. But if environmentalists had won their case against the pipeline, then lawmakers’ hands would be tied in the future: They could not approve a wind farm, solar plant, or nuclear reactor in the same way that they tried to rubber-stamp the MVP. They would have to wait, instead, for the legal process to run its course.
We should be clear, here, that just because the Sierra Club and others pursued a conservative line of argument in this case does not mean that they are themselves reactionary. Their job — unlike that of politicians or pundits — is to win lawsuits. They have to fight on the terrain that politics has given them, and since that terrain tilts to the right today, they are sometimes going to advance right-leaning arguments.
But the broader environmental movement, which emerged in the 1950s and '60s as a cross-partisan, mass democratic campaign, should be careful not to confuse its goals with those of the elite legal movement. The question hangs over climate policy, permitting reform, and the entire challenge of decarbonization: How should climate advocates balance the goals of decarbonization and democracy? What does democracy even mean for the environment, a term that encompasses the water quality of a stream and the carbon intensity of the atmosphere? In the 21st century, how should Americans exert their will to reshape the land, protect the environment, and power their society?
Log in
To continue reading, log in to your account.
Create a Free Account
To unlock more free articles, please create a free account.
The saga of the Greenhouse Gas Reduction Fund takes another turn.
On July 3, just after the House voted to send the reconciliation bill to Trump’s desk, a lawyer for the Department of Justice swiftly sent a letter to the U.S. Court of Appeals for the D.C. Circuit. Once Trump signed the One Big Beautiful Bill Act into law, the letter said, the group of nonprofits suing the government for canceling the biggest clean energy program in the country’s history would no longer have a case.
It was the latest salvo in the saga of the Greenhouse Gas Reduction Fund, former President Joe Biden’s green bank program, which current Environmental Protection Agency Administrator Lee Zeldin has made the target of his “gold bar” scandal. At stake is nearly $20 billion to fight climate change.
Congress created the program as part of the Inflation Reduction Act in 2022. It authorized Biden’s EPA to award that $20 billion to a handful of nonprofits that would then offer low-cost loans to individuals and organizations for solar installations, building efficiency upgrades, and other efforts to reduce emissions. The agency announced the recipients last summer, before its September deadline to get the funds out.
Then Trump took office and ordered his agency heads to pause and review all funding for Inflation Reduction Act programs.
In early March, buoyed by a covert video of a former EPA employee making an unfortunate and widely misunderstood comparison of the effort to award the funding to “throwing gold bars off the edge” of the Titanic, Zeldin notified the recipients that he was terminating their grant agreements. He cited “substantial concerns” regarding “program integrity, the award process, programmatic fraud, waste, and abuse, and misalignment with agency’s priorities.”
In court proceedings over the decision, the government has yet to cite any specific acts of fraud, waste, or abuse that justified the termination — a fact that the initial judge overseeing the case pointed out in mid-April when she ordered a preliminary injunction blocking the EPA from canceling the grants. But the EPA quickly appealed to the D.C. Circuit Court, which stayed the lower court’s injunction. The money remains frozen at Citibank, which had been overseeing its disbursement, as the parties await the appeals court’s decision.
As all of this was playing out, Congress wrote and passed the One Big Beautiful Bill Act. The new law rescinds the “unobligated” funding — money that hasn’t yet been spent or contracted out — from nearly 50 Inflation Reduction Act programs, including the Greenhouse Gas Reduction Fund. According to an estimate from the Congressional Budget Office, the remaining balance in the fund was just $19 million.
The Trump administration, however, is arguing in court that the OBBBA doesn’t just recoup that $19 million, but also the billions in awards at issue in the lawsuit. Congress has rescinded “the appropriated funds that plaintiffs sought to reinstate through this action,” Principal Deputy Assistant Attorney General Yaakov Roth wrote in his July 3 letter, implying that the awards were no longer officially “obligated” and that all of the money would have to be returned. Therefore, “it is more clear than ever that the district court’s preliminary injunction must be reversed,” he wrote.
Roth cited a statement that Shelley Moore Capito, chair of the Senate Environment and Public Works Committee, made on the floor of the Senate in June. She said she agreed with Zeldin’s decision to cancel the Greenhouse Gas Reduction Fund grants, and that it was Congress’ intent to rescind the funds that “had been obligated but were subsequently de-obligated” — about $17 billion in total. She did not acknowledge that Zeldin’s decision was being actively litigated in court.
On Monday, attorneys for the plaintiffs fired back with a message to the court that the reconciliation bill does not, in fact, change anything about the case. They argued that the EPA broke the law by canceling the grants, and that the OBBBA can’t retroactively absolve the agency. They also served up a conflicting statement that Capito made about the fund to Politico in November. “We’re not gonna go claw back money,” she said. “That’s a ridiculous thought.”
Capito’s colleague Sheldon Whitehouse, a Democrat, offered additional evidence on the floor of the Senate Wednesday. He cited the Congressional Budget Office’s score of the repeal of the program of $19 million, noting that it was the amount “EPA had remaining to oversee the program” and that “at no point in our discussions with the majority, directly or in our several conversations with the Parliamentarian, was this score disputed.” Whitehouse also called up a previous statement made by Republican Representative Morgan Griffith, a member of the House Energy and Commerce Committee, during a markup of the bill. “I just want to point out that these provisions that we are talking about only apply as far, as this bill is concerned, to the unobligated balances,” Griffith said.
Regardless, it will be up to the D.C. Circuit Court as to whether the lower court’s injunction was warranted. If it agrees, the nonprofit awardees may still, in fact, be able to get the money flowing for clean energy projects.
“Wishful thinking on the part of DOJ does not moot the ongoing litigation,” Whitehouse said.
A renewable energy project can only start construction if it can get connected to the grid.
The clock is ticking for clean energy developers. With the signing of the One Big Beautiful Bill Act, wind and solar developers have to start construction (whatever that means) in the next 12 months and be operating no later than the end of 2027 to qualify for federal tax credits.
But projects can only get built if they can get connected to the grid. Those decisions are often out of the hands of state, local, or even federal policymakers, and are instead left up to utilities, independent system operators, or regional transmission organizations, which then have to study things like the transmission infrastructure needed for the project before they can grant a project permission to link up.
This process, from requesting interconnection to commercial operation, used to take two years on average as of 2008; by 2023, it took almost five years, according to the National Renewable Energy Laboratory. This creates what we call the interconnection queue, where likely thousands of gigawatts of proposed projects are languishing, unable to start construction. The inability to quickly process these requests adds to the already hefty burden of state, local, and federal permitting and siting — and could mean that developers will be locked out of tax credits regardless of how quickly they move.
There’s no better example of the tension between clean energy goals and the process of getting projects into service than the Mid-Atlantic, home to the 13-state electricity market known as PJM Interconnection. Many states in the region have mandates to substantially decarbonize their electricity systems, whereas PJM is actively seeking to bring new gas-fired generation onto the grid in order to meet its skyrocketing projections of future demand.
This mismatch between current supply and present-and-future demand has led to the price for “capacity” in PJM — i.e. what the grid operator has greed to pay in exchange for the ability to call on generators when they’re most needed — jumping by over $10 billion, leading to utility bill hikes across the system.
“There is definitely tension,” Abe Silverman, a senior research scholar at Johns Hopkins University and former general counsel for New Jersey’s utility regulator, told me.
While Silverman doesn’t think that PJM is “philosophically” opposed to adding new resources, including renewables, to the grid, “they don’t have urgency you might want them to have. It’s a banal problem of administrative competency rather than an agenda to stymie new resources coming on the grid.”
PJM is in the midst of a multiyear project to overhaul its interconnection queue. According to a spokesperson, there are around 44,500 megawatts of proposed projects that have interconnection agreements and could move on to construction. Of these, I calculated that about 39,000 megawatts are solar, wind, or storage. Another 63,000 megawatts of projects are in the interconnection queue without an agreement, and will be processed by the end of next year, the spokesperson said, likely making it impossible for wind and solar projects to be “placed in service” by 2028.
Even among the projects with agreements, “there probably will be some winnowing of that down,” Mark Repsher, a partner at PA Consulting Group, told me. “My guess is, of that 44,000 megawatts that have interconnection agreements, they may have other challenges getting online in the next two years.”
PJM has attempted to place the blame for project delays largely at the feet of siting, permitting, and operations challenges.
“Some [projects] are moving to construction, but others are feeling the headwinds of siting and permitting challenges and supply chain backlogs,” PJM’s executive vice president of operations, planning, and security Aftab Khan said in a June statement giving an update on interconnection reforms.
And on high prices, PJM has been increasingly open about blaming “premature” retirements of fossil fuel power plants.
In May, PJM said in a statement in response to a Department of Energy order to keep a dual-fuel oil and natural gas plant in Pennsylvania open that it “has repeatedly documented and voiced its concerns over the growing risk of a supply and demand imbalance driven by the confluence of generator retirements and demand growth. Such an imbalance could have serious ramifications for reliability and affordability for consumers.”
Just days earlier, in a statement ahead of a Federal Energy Regulatory Commission conference, PJM CEO Manu Asthana had fretted about “growing resource adequacy concerns” based on demand growth, the cost of building new generation, and, in a direct shot at federal and state policies that encouraged renewables and discouraged fossil fuels, “premature, primarily policy-driven retirements of resources continue to outpace the development of new generation.”
The Trump administration has echoed these worries for the whole nation’s electrical grid, writing in a report issued this week that “if current retirement schedules and incremental additions remain unchanged, most regions will face unacceptable reliability risks.” So has the North American Electric Reliability Corporation, which argued in a 2024 report that most of the U.S. and Canada “faces mounting resource adequacy challenges over the next 10 years as surging demand growth continues and thermal generators announce plans for retirement.”
State officials and clean energy advocates have instead placed the blame for higher costs and impending reliability gaps on PJM’s struggles to connect projects, how the electricity market is designed, and the operator’s perceived coolness towards renewables.
Pennsylvania Governor Josh Shapiro told The New York Times in June that the state should “re-examine” its membership in PJM following last year’s steep price hikes. In February, Virginia Governor Glenn Youngkin wrote a letter calling for Asthana to be fired. (He will leave the transmission organization by the end of the year, although PJM says the decision was made before Youngkin’s letter.)
That conflict will likely only escalate as developers rush to start projects — which they can only do if they can get an interconnection services agreement from PJM.
In contrast to Silverman, Tyson Slocum, director of Public Citizen’s energy program, told me that “PJM, internally and operationally, believes that renewables are a drag on the grid and that dispatchable generation, particularly fossil fuels and nuclear, are essential.”
In May, for instance, PJM announced that it had selected 51 projects for its “Reliability Resource Initiative,” a one-time special process for adding generation to the grid over the next five to six years. The winning bids overwhelmingly involved expanding existing gas-fired plants or building new ones.
The main barrier to getting the projects built that have already worked their way through the queue, Repsher told me, is “primarily permitting.” But even with new barriers thrown up by the OBBBA, “there’s going to be appetite for these projects,” thanks to high demand, Repsher said. “It’s really just navigating all the logistical hurdles.”
Some leaders of PJM states are working on the permitting and deployment side of the equation while also criticizing the electricity market. Pennsylvania’s Shapiro has proposed legislation that would set up a centralized state entity to handle siting for energy projects. Maryland Governor Wes Moore signed legislation in May that would accelerate permitting for energy projects, including preempting local regulations for siting solar.
New Jersey, on the other hand, is procuring storage projects directly.
The state has a mandate stemming from its Clean Energy Act of 2018 to add 2,000 megawatts of energy storage by 2030. In June, New Jersey’s utility regulator started a process to procure at least half of that through utility-scale projects, funded through an existing utility-bill-surcharge.
New Jersey regulators described energy storage as “the most significant source of near-term capacity,” citing specifically the fact that storage makes up the “bulk” of proposed energy capacity in New Jersey with interconnection approval from PJM.
While the regulator issued its order before OBBBA passed, the focus on storage ended up being advantageous. The bill treats energy storage far more generously than wind and solar, meaning that New Jersey could potentially expand its generation capacity with projects that are more likely to pencil due to continued access to tax credits. The state is also explicitly working around the interconnection queue, not raging against it: “PJM interconnection delays do not pose a significant obstacle to a Phase 1 transmission-scale storage procurement target of 1,000 MW,” the order said.
In the end, PJM and the states may be stuck together, and their best hope could be finding some way to work together — and they may not have any other choice.
“A well-functioning RTO is the best way to achieve both low rates for consumers and carbon emissions reductions,” Evan Vaughan, the executive director of MAREC Action, a trade group representing Mid-Atlantic solar, wind, and storage developers, told me. “I think governors in PJM understand that, and I think that they’re pushing on PJM.”
“I would characterize the passage of this bill as adding fuel to the fire that was already under states and developers — and even energy offtakers — to get more projects deployed in the region.”
On Neil Jacobs’ confirmation hearing, OBBBA costs, and Saudi Aramco
Current conditions: Temperatures are climbing toward 100 degrees Fahrenheit in central and eastern Texas, complicating recovery efforts after the floods • More than 10,000 people have been evacuated in southwestern China due to flooding from the remnants of Typhoon Danas • Mebane, North Carolina, has less than two days of drinking water left after its water treatment plant sustained damage from Tropical Storm Chantal.
Neil Jacobs, President Trump’s nominee to head the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration, fielded questions from the Senate Commerce, Science, and Transportation Committee on Wednesday about how to prevent future catastrophes like the Texas floods, Politico reports. “If confirmed, I want to ensure that staffing weather service offices is a top priority,” Jacobs said, even as the administration has cut more than 2,000 staff positions this year. Jacobs also told senators that he supports the president’s 2026 budget, which would further cut $2.2 billion from NOAA, including funding for the maintenance of weather models that accurately forecast the Texas storms. During the hearing, Jacobs acknowledged that humans have an “influence” on the climate, and said he’d direct NOAA to embrace “new technologies” and partner with industry “to advance global observing systems.”
Jacobs previously served as the acting NOAA administrator from 2019 through the end of Trump’s first term, and is perhaps best remembered for his role in the “Sharpiegate” press conference, in which he modified a map of Hurricane Dorian’s storm track to match Trump’s mistaken claim that it would hit southern Alabama. The NOAA Science Council subsequently investigated Jacobs and found he had violated the organization’s scientific integrity policy.
The Republican budget reconciliation bill could increase household energy costs by $170 per year by 2035 and $353 per year by 2040, according to a new analysis by Evergreen Action, a climate policy group. “Biden-era provisions, now cut by the GOP spending plan, were making it more affordable for families to install solar panels to lower utility bills,” the report found. The law also cut building energy efficiency credits that had helped Americans reduce their bills by an estimated $1,250 per year. Instead, the One Big Beautiful Bill Act will increase wholesale electricity prices almost 75% by 2035, as well as eliminate 760,000 jobs by the end of the decade. Separately, an analysis by the nonpartisan think tank Center for American Progress found that the OBBBA could increase average electricity costs by $110 per household as soon as next year, and up to $200 annually in some states.
EIA
Saudi Arabia’s state-owned oil company Saudi Aramco is in talks with Commonwealth LNG in Louisiana to buy liquified natural gas, Reuters reports. The discussion is reportedly for 2 million tons per year of the facility’s 9.4 million-ton annual export capacity, which would help “cement Aramco’s push into the global LNG market as it accelerates efforts to diversify beyond crude oil exports” and be the “strongest signal yet that Aramco intends to take a material position in the U.S. LNG sector,” OilPrice.com notes. LNG demand is expected to grow 50% globally by 2030, but as my colleague Emily Pontecorvo has reported, President Trump’s tariffs could make it harder for LNG projects still in early development, like Commonwealth, to succeed. “For the moment, U.S. LNG is still interesting,” Anne-Sophie Corbeau, a research scholar focused on natural gas at Columbia University’s Center on Global Energy Policy, told Emily. “But if costs increase too much, maybe people will start to wonder.”
Ford confirmed this week that its $3 billion electric vehicle battery plant in Michigan will still qualify for federal tax credits due to eleventh-hour tweaks to the bill’s language, The New York Times reports. Though Ford had said it would build its factory regardless of what happened to the credits, the company’s executive chairman had previously called them “crucial” to the construction of the facility and the employment of the 1,700 people expected to work there. Ford’s battery plant is located in Michigan’s Calhoun County, which Trump won by a margin of 56%. The last-minute tweaks to save the credits to the benefit of Ford “suggest that at least some Republican lawmakers were aware that cuts in the bill would strike their constituents the hardest,” the Times writes.
Italy and Spain are on track to shutter their last remaining mainland coal power plants in the next several months, marking “a major milestone in Europe’s transition to a predominantly renewables-based power system by 2035,” Beyond Fossil Fuels reported Wednesday. To date, 15 European countries now have coal-free grids following Ireland’s move away from coal in 2025.
Italy is set to complete its transition from coal by the end of the summer with the closure of its last two plants, in keeping with the government’s 2017 phase-out target of 2025. Two coal plants in Sardinia will remain operational until 2028 due to complications with an undersea grid connection cable. In Spain, the nation’s largest coal plant will be entirely converted to fossil gas by the end of the year, while two smaller plants are also on track to shut down in the immediate future. Once they do, Spain’s only coal-power plant will be in the Balearic Islands, with an expected phase-out date of 2030.
“Climate change makes this a battle with a ratchet. There are some things you just can’t come back from. The ratchet has clicked, and there is no return. So it is urgent — it is time for us all to wake up and fight.” — Senator Sheldon Whitehouse of Rhode Island in his 300th climate speech on the Senate floor Wednesday night.