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In the labyrinthine organizational chart of the U.S. government, the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration sits conspicuously within the portfolio of the Department of Commerce. Ocean research and weather monitoring have clear economic stakes, of course, but the responsibilities of the science-oriented agency — targeted for dismantling by the Trump administration for allegedly instigating “climate change alarm” — often seem better suited to the Department of the Interior, or perhaps nestled within the Environmental Protection Agency.
That is, until you start talking about the fisheries.
The United States is the world’s sixth-largest producer of wild-caught seafood, with the fishing industry supporting at least 2.3 million domestic jobs and generating around $321 billion in annual sales. After the National Weather Service, NOAA’s Marine Fisheries Service is the agency’s biggest arm, employing around 4,200 of the roughly 13,000 people who worked at NOAA before Elon Musk’s efficiency layoffs. The NMFS (as it’s known in the acronym-heavy parlance of NOAA) is tasked with managing, conserving, and protecting the nation’s fishing resources and the billions of pounds of domestic seafood harvested annually, along with state departments of natural resources and the Food and Drug Administration.
But like every other line office at NOAA, NMFS now faces cuts of up to 20% of its payroll, which could reduce its services and pass on unpleasant repercussions to seafood-loving Americans. At NOAA Fisheries’ offices in Narragansett, Rhode Island, and Woods Hole, Massachusetts — the latter being the oldest marine research station in the country — at least 20 staff members have already been laid off, The New Bedford Light reports. Though Commerce Secretary Howard Lutnick claimed in his confirmation hearing that it was not his intent to “dismantle” the agency, people all over the climate science and forecasting communities fear that the cuts are effectively doing exactly that. (NOAA declined to comment for this story, citing long-standing practice against discussing internal personnel and management matters.)
“These actions are not the strategic moves of a government looking out for its populace,” Rick Spinrad, the NOAA administrator under President Joe Biden, said in a recent press call hosted by Washington Senator Patty Murray. “They are the unnecessary and malicious acts of a shambolic administration.”
Not all fisherpeople necessarily welcome NOAA into their lives, however. Many fishing communities around the U.S. have long felt neglected by the government, since wild-caught seafood isn’t eligible for traditional farming grants from the Department of Agriculture and it doesn’t qualify for the economic assistance directed toward domestic aquaculture, either. The problem is particularly acute in the case of shrimp, Americans’ favorite seafood, which is eaten by nearly half of the households in the country. Wild-caught shrimp is often more sustainable than domestically farmed shrimp, the latter of which is almost nonexistent, making up less than 1% of what’s on the market in the U.S. But American shrimpers face intense market pressures from the glut of farmed and often illegal foreign imports that make up 90% of the shrimp for sale in stores and restaurants, with little obvious intervention from federal monitors at NOAA or the FDA.
“We’re like, ‘Yeah, kick them all out, burn it down, start fresh,’” Bryan Jones, the vice president of the South Carolina Shrimpers Association and a director of the United States Shrimpers Coalition, told me of he and his colleagues’ frustration with the agency’s priorities. “The entire seafood industry would like to see a mindset shift. What is the purpose of NOAA? Why do they exist?”
Though NMFS performs many functions, perhaps its most important is managing and conserving the nation’s fisheries, the geographic regions where particular stocks of fish are harvested commercially (for example, the Alaska pollock fishery is the nation’s largest commercial fishery, valued at $483.5 million). The agency hires observers to record what’s caught and discarded aboard commercial fishing boats. That data is then used to set quotas on how much of the given population can be harvested in a season, determined in collaboration with private industry partners at the nation’s eight regional fishery management councils. NOAA also prescribes mandatory precautions, such as the use of “turtle excluder devices” in cases where bycatch is a concern, like shrimping.
Though Jones spoke highly of all the individuals he collaborates with at NOAA, the behemoth agency can also move at what feels like a glacial pace. In 2018, for example, a winter freeze decimated the white shrimp stock in Charleston harbor, triggering $1 million in federal disaster relief for the affected shrimpers. But almost seven years later, much of that emergency money still hasn’t been distributed by NOAA. And even that amount was still far short of the $2 million in requests made by the Lowcountry shrimpers.
But there are also stark counterexamples of what can happen to fisheries when the data collected by NOAA falters or degrades, as is likely to happen if the layoffs continue apace. In 2020, the COVID-19 pandemic suspended NOAA’s annual Bering Sea bottom trawl survey, leading to gaps in the data about the snow crab population. Then, in 2021, following a marine heat wave, the snow crab fishery collapsed, meaning its population saw a decline of more than 90% and was too small to sustain a harvest. “Consequently, we don’t have a good idea of what [the snow crab] population looked like the year prior, in 2020, and we need that type of data to know how many fish and crabs we can catch each year, where the populations are going as the oceans change, and to keep track of environmental trends,” Rebecca Howard, a former research fish biologist at the Alaska Fisheries Science Center in Seattle who NOAA laid off, said on the virtual press call with Spinrad and Murray.
For much of the 1980s and 1990s, U.S. fisheries were not in a good state; overfishing caused the populations of many of the country’s most iconic fish stocks, including flounder and cod, to collapse. Stricter limits on overfished stocks have allowed populations to recover in recent years. Today, the U.S. can boast of having “the best-managed fisheries in the world,” Sally Yozell, the former Deputy Assistant Secretary for Oceans at NOAA, told me. “And there was a lot of pain that went into getting to that point,” she said. “It took a lot of science and a lot of pain by the fishermen,” who weren’t allowed to harvest certain species during the recovery efforts. Today, the agency is involved in managing more than 400 fish stocks.
But Yozell also pointed out that it is the balance between commerce and science that is crucial. “It’s not fair to say to a fisherman, ‘Okay, you go and guard your own hen house,’” she added. “I mean, they’ll fish as much as they can — and why not? It’s in their nature. That’s why we have openings and closings [of fisheries] that are science-based,” intended to prevent overfishing or population collapse.
If the quality of NOAA’s fishery management data suffers as it hemorrhages staff, the regional fishery management councils will likely err on the side of caution rather than risk a fishery collapse, which, if severe enough, could result in localized extinctions. “That could mean scaling back the amount of fish that could be harvested to take a more precautionary approach,” Sarah Poon, the associate vice president of Resilient Fishery Solutions at the Environmental Defense Fund, told me. Sure enough, fishermen have already overfished Atlantic bluefin tuna off North Carolina this year because NOAA failed to close the fishery after the quota was reached — an uncharacteristic oversight that was apparently due to the agency’s layoffs, Reuters reports, and that will likely result in more conservative management of fisheries down the line.
The New England Fishery Management Council is already warning that the continued freeze at NOAA could delay the traditional May 1 opening of its groundfish fishery, and the valuable New England scallop fishery might also see delays as NOAA struggles to issue its standard regulations. Spinrad, the former NOAA administrator, has warned that the layoffs could potentially disrupt the $320 billion annual salmon hatcheries in the Pacific Northwest if commercial fishing closures or delays continue to occur.
Despite his frustrations with the bureaucracy of NOAA, the South Carolina shrimper, Jones, said that fishing communities would be the first to acknowledge the importance of good data, science, common-sense regulations, and stock management. “We’re all environmentalists at the end of the day,” he said, pointing out that fishermen wouldn’t have jobs if pollution or overfishing endangered the shrimp population.
But while many at NOAA now fear for their livelihoods, the stakes for small fishing communities have long felt existential. “It’s not hyperbole to say we’re at a precipice,” Jones went on. “There’s a chance that we may not be around in a couple of years — it’s that bad.” Sales of South Carolina seafood have nearly halved since the early 2010s, and the number of shrimp boats on the water in Georgetown County, the “seafood capital” of the state, has done the same.
But if wild-caught shrimp vanish from the markets, it could mean an even heavier reliance on farmed imports. Foreign aquaculture, however, is rife with forced labor and human rights violations, rampant environmental pollution and habitat destruction, and serious contamination concerns. Other seafood sectors, like white fish, are contending with adversaries such as Russia mixing in foreign-caught fish with domestic fish during processing and labeling it American wild-caught, or with outright mislabeling — though it again falls on NOAA’s potentially compromised enforcement capabilities to verify that U.S. seafood is actually wild-caught in the U.S.
EDF’s Poon told me it’s the most volatile fisheries that are ultimately most reliant on NOAA’s data, a category she believes shrimp falls into given warming-related environmental pressures and harmful algal blooms. While she agreed that NOAA Fisheries could use some “fine-tuning and refinement,” Poon added that turmoil at the agency is “already upending some of these decision-making processes that we have,” for the worse.
And while the NOAA layoffs might be cathartic for some in the fishing industry, there is also no clear indication that a regime change in Washington will mean the reversal of fortunes for fishermen. “It’s like we’re viewed as something to be managed out of existence; that’s the perception we’ve had and the way we felt,” Jones said. “I see a lot of great scientists and folks that work on the ground with us and are very helpful, but from an agency standpoint — yes, that’s how we felt.”
But “I mean, we’ve never gotten a call from Howard Lutnick, either,” he said.
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Misan Lychee is made with “some” carbon dioxide captured “directly from the air,” along with 14.6 grams of added sugar.
I believe life should be a little bit silly, which is why I’m a sucker for a gimmick. A hotel just for napping? Sign me up. A “convenience store” full of items made of felt? I now own a bag of inedible Fritos. Hot sauce packaged to look like dynamite? Cute, add to cart.
And when I found out that you can buy soda carbonated with CO2 obtained via direct air capture, I said, Take my sixteen American dollars and put it on ice.
Misan Lychee (which yes, only comes in lychee flavor “at the moment”) represents the distant hopes and dreams of DAC. Currently, there isn’t demand for carbon dioxide at direct air capture prices; it’s much, much cheaper just to buy the concentrated byproduct of, say, natural gas- and coal-fired ammonia plants to carbonate your soda than to go through the trouble of sucking the 0.04% of the air that is CO2 out of the atmosphere for a few bubbles. That’s why the carbon removal industry is propped up by offtake agreements and credits, at least until Brutalism comes back in a big way and dramatically increases the demand for concrete manufactured with stored CO2.
Still, that hasn’t stopped companies from trying. You can buy carbon-sequestered beer, DAC vodka, CO2-captured perfume, and recycled-emission yoga pants. But unlike other consumer products that are, in many cases, made from waste gas captured during industrial processes rather than from true atmospheric CO2, Misan claims on the can to be made from “some” carbon dioxide pulled “directly from the air using a technology called direct air capture.” The bottle sports the logo of Bay Area-based AirMyne, a DAC start-up, which, on further investigation, turns out to own Misan.
My order arrived rattling around in a cardboard box, with three of the cans having popped loose from the six-pack in transit. As someone with no impulse control (which, upon reflection, might be related to my love of gimmicks), I immediately opened a can. Over my laptop. We both got drenched by the resulting geyser. CO2’s presence: confirmed.
What happened next was, admittedly, also user error. I took a sip and immediately went, “Yuck, what?” That’s because after a summer of drinking my way through every Waterloo flavor, I was expecting Misan Lychee to be a seltzer, too. Despite its website describing it as a “climate-forward sparkling water,” it is not, and you can taste all 14.6 grams of its added sugar. It has a moderately cloying, perfumy flavor that my dad described as “strawberry, but disturbing?” when I asked him to do a blind taste test. I think it’s perhaps closer in taste to pear, and I remain optimistic that someone who has more free time than me could come up with a recipe to turn it into a “sustainable” spritz.
Actually, to that point — is it sustainable? It notably doesn’t claim to be, and it has its skeptics. Richard Waite of the World Resources Institute pointed out on Bluesky that carbon dioxide is only “sequestered” until it leaves our metabolic system the usual way, via exhalation or burps. Still, his questions about the energy source of AirMyne’s direct air capture — and thus the carbon-emitting or -removing properties of the soda — generated lots of good puns in the replies. “Run out of polar before we run out of Polar” comes to us courtesy of Costa Samaras.
The second Misan Lychee I cracked also soaked me, although I was prepared this time and at least opened it out of range of electronics. I also paid more attention to the can, which has an unusual but not unpleasant matte feel. The list of ingredients on the back seems surprisingly long for the supposed golden age of “gut sodas” that advertise such things as the inclusion of “plant fibers.” Rather than prebiotics, Misan contains “xanthan gum” and an ominous concoction identified as “cloudy agent.”
If Misan isn’t healthier for me or the planet, then what is it for, exactly? I returned to the six lines of all-caps text printed on the front of the can:
Some of the CO2 in this can was pulled directly from the air using a technology called direct air capture (DAC). If scaled, DAC could do more than just carbonate your water. It could remove millions of tons of CO2 from the atmosphere, fighting climate change.
Gimmicks are, ultimately, ways to sell you something. Water gets packaged to look more “manly;” you might buy a Coca-Cola instead of a Pepsi if it has your name on it. But Misan isn’t ultimately selling itself with the promise of bubbles brought to you by DAC. It’s the other way around: Misan is the marketing vehicle for AirMyne. They want you to drink the DAC Kool-Aid.
Will I buy Misan Lychee again? Not likely: I have De La Calle! Mango Chili Mexican sodas to drink, made from the fermented rind of pineapples — BYOCO2, if you will.
Then again, never say never. If I learn about the existence of Misan Chikoo or Misan Pistachio-Rosewater during a weak moment, I’ll probably be down another $16. But I’ll open it over the sink this time.
On transmission corridors, China’s Russian reactor, and long-duration energy storage
Current conditions: Tropical Storm Cristobal formed in the Atlantic yet poses no real threats to land, unlike another budding storm gathering strength in the southern Caribbean • Powerful storms spurred derecho winds that spawned tornadoes across the Midwest and left 800,000 without power yesterday morning • Britain’s Met Office issued an amber weather warning as temperatures across eastern England soared to nearly 100 degrees Fahrenheit.

In the waning days of the Biden administration, the Department of Energy set about clearing one of the biggest bottlenecks to expanding America’s aging electrical grid: Literally expanding the grid. You don’t need to have read excellent books like Russell Gold’s Superpower or features like my colleague Robinson Meyer’s deep dive into the SunZia saga to know that building transmission lines is a huge challenge in the United States. To address this, the Biden-era agency proposed three National Interest Electric Transmission Corridors — essentially a series of projects in mostly red and purple states that could now enlist the federal government’s help to speed through the typical hurdles in getting approvals from so many jurisdictions and landowners across hundreds of miles of a power line’s route. Not anymore. On Wednesday evening, the Trump administration announced the cancellation of all three corridors, declaring projects that would likely have helped shore up the grid amid surging demand from data centers to be part of Democrats’ “Green New Scam.”
“Transmission policy must serve the American people — not special interests or a climate-alarmist agenda that drives up costs, worsens reliability, and disregards the concerns of local communities,” Secretary of Energy Chris Wright said in a statement. Still, his agency pointed to billions in loans it’s offered to utilities for grid upgrades and a study, released last month, highlighting what the Trump administration sees as the country’s future transmission needs. The rescission doesn’t necessarily mean the projects linked to the corridors are dead. When the Energy Department first announced the corridors in December 2024, the agency stressed that the designation didn’t guarantee federal approvals, merely speed projects on the pathway to getting answers. Those include NextEra Energy’s 73-mile Lake Erie Connector between Canada and Pennsylvania, two projects in the Southwestern Grid Connector Corridor, and the Transmission and Renewables Interstate Bulk Electric Supply Project in the Tribal Energy Access Corridor.
When Elon Musk announced plans last year to build out 100 gigawatts of solar manufacturing capacity, analysts and industry watchers scratched their heads. That’s more than double the amount of panels the U.S. installs each year at a time when photovoltaic factories face fierce competition from overseas competitors — namely China — and withering support domestically with the end of the federal tax credit designed to spur demand for American-made solar. Yet Musk is charging ahead with what Tesla has dubbed Project Crystal Sun. In a document submitted to Texas regulators, the company said it was “currently evaluating the feasibility of constructing its solar cell manufacturing facility at various locations across multiple U.S. states.” That includes the Lone Star State, to which Musk decamped from California. “Should Tesla make the decision to develop the proposed project in another state, Texas would miss the opportunity to attract billions of dollars in investment, help create thousands of full-time jobs for its residents, and become a hub for domestic solar cell manufacturing in the U.S.,” Tesla stated in the filing.
Things were also looking rosy for wind turbine manufacturers. Shares in Vestas closed nearly 20% higher on Wednesday after turbine orders bounced back, giving the company the liquidity to buy back its own stock. New orders for its turbines climbed from 2 gigawatts during the second quarter of 2025 to 3.35 gigawatts during the same period this year, the Financial Times reported.
The storms that barreled across the Midwest this week not only downed power for more than 800,000 people, they also left drivers without access to fuel. On Wednesday, the Northwest Indiana Times reported that gas stations in the region were running dry. “Today, we heard that this was open, and this is like the only thing that is open,” Mike Siedentopf, a resident of the Northwest Indiana town of Munster, told CBS News.
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The flagship reactors in China’s nuclear buildout are the Hualong One and the CAP1400, each of which borrows heavily from America’s Westinghouse AP1000. But it’s useful to remember that Beijing is diversifying its atomic fleet. One of the next reactors likely to enter into commercial operations is now Unit 7 at the Tianwan nuclear power station on China’s Yellow Sea coast. On Wednesday, NucNet and World Nuclear News reported that the plant had loaded its first fuel assembly into position in the core of the new reactor. This marks the first time fuel has been loaded into a next-generation Russian reactor in China. Like the AP1000 and China’s versions of it, Rosatom’s VVER-1200 is a third-generation pressurized water reactor, meaning it uses the standard technology for fission with state-of-the-art safety and cooling upgrades. CNNC, the plant’s operator, said it expects to begin commercial operation later this year.
With the battery market booming, the race to commercialize long-duration storage technologies has yielded plenty of attention-grabbing ideas. Form Energy’s approach is proving particularly magnetic for investors. The West Virginia-based startup is seeking to bring rust-powered batteries that last 100 hours to market. On Wednesday, the company unveiled a $750 million Series G financing round, bringing the total equity it’s raised so far to over $2 billion. Its iron-air batteries, which charge through a “reversible rusting” process, have already attracted deals with Google, utility Xcel Energy, and data center giant Crusoe.
Meanwhile, a company commercializing compressed air storage technology just raised another $230 million. Hydrostor uses electricity to compress air and store it in underground hard-rock caverns using water displacement. When the grid needs power, the stored air is reheated and expands, spinning a turbine that generates emissions-free electricity. The Canadian startup pulled in more funding from the Canadian government’s investment fund, Goldman Sachs, and Canada’s pension funds. Another backer in this round is the oilfield services giant Baker Hughes. “The grid needs bankable long-duration energy storage that can be deployed today to enable affordable and reliable electricity for all, and Hydrostor’s continued fundraising success is a testament to the potential of our A-CAES technology to get us there,” Hydrostor CEO Curtis VanWalleghem said in a statement.
A Dr. Phil-linked expedition to find oil in Greenland has been delayed as the island nation’s government rejects the consortium’s right to drill. On Wednesday, the United Kingdom’s 80 Mile exploration company announced the delay in its plans. “While we are disappointed that the timing of the Jameson drilling program has been impacted, the company remains fully committed to advancing this highly prospective project,” 80 Mile executive director Rod McIllree told the Financial Times.
This is an edition of Heatmap Daily, an evening review of the day’s news written by our executive editor. Sign up for it here.
El Niño is here.
The world’s largest ocean slipped into the weather pattern in the spring, according to the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration, and the sea surface is now significantly warmer than average in one important region. When you chart ocean temperatures on a map, the “El Niño tongue” (yes, that is what scientists call it) clearly appears:

It might be more accurate to describe El Niño as something that happens to the planet, though. The Pacific occupies about one-third of Earth’s surface. When that third becomes unusually warm, it transforms weather around the world, driving wetter conditions in California, Central America, and South America; and drier weather in Asia, Africa, and Australia.
So far, so normal. El Niño is a standard fluctuation in the Earth’s climate system; we experienced the last one in 2023 and 2024.
But that is roughly where what’s normal about this year’s El Niño ends.
For one, this El Niño is far more intense than we should expect at this time of year. In an El Niño, the Pacific’s average temperature usually rises through the end of December or so; the phenomenon’s original name in Spanish, El niño de Navidad, alluded to the surprising arrival of warm currents in South America around Christmas. In the modern satellite era, the warmest El Niño ever measured happened in 2015, and ocean temperatures peaked at 3.1 degrees Celsius in November and December of that year. We called that a “Super El Niño” for just how abnormal it was.
Yet the Pacific is already more than 2.6 degrees Celsius (or nearly 5 degrees Fahrenheit) above normal — making this the third strongest El Niño ever measured in the satellite era — and it is only August. We still have four months to go, and this El Niño is already a record-smasher. More ominously, models expect that this El Niño could eventually grow to more than 4 degrees Celsius, or 7 degrees Fahrenheit, above normal.
What will that mean for the world? According to a recent Science study, the average El Niño can cost the global economy more than $3 trillion. The world is richer now than it was a decade or two ago, which should make it better able to withstand disaster. But this El Niño is so far out of sample that it’s hard to know what it could do.
And perhaps more importantly — as the climate scientist Zeke Hausfather, the guest of our new episode of Shift Key says today — it will offer a kind of preview of what the planet’s normal climate will resemble a decade from now. This El Niño is likely to push 2027’s average temperature above 1.5 degrees Celsius, the nominal threshold at which countries hoped to limit warming as part of the Paris Agreement (although, as you’ll hear, it is slightly more complicated than that).
Which is all to say: I encourage you to listen to our new episode, which is available on Apple, Spotify, or RSS. (A transcript is also available for Heatmap subscribers.) We tackle questions including:
There’s one thought that I didn’t include in the episode, however. Since late 2023, political discussion of climate change has decreased. This isn’t a phenomenon limited to any one faction of the Democratic Party — the progressives Abdul El-Sayed and Zohran Mamdani have downplayed climate policy roughly as much as, say, moderates like Mary Peltola and James Talarico have — but it is a clear trend. The American media’s coverage of climate change has declined during the same period. This “climate hushing” is not because politicians stopped caring per se, I think, but because nobody is sure how to talk about the issue in a politically useful way anymore, especially after the “climate = jobs” rhetoric that underpinned the Biden administration’s policy failed to retain voters in 2024.
I don’t believe (and think that political science has disproven) that extreme weather can “awaken” the public to climate change. Even against a gradually warming baseline, the weather — and public attention — shift far too often for that. But media coverage is loosely responsive to events. When the super El Niño of 2015 and 2016 smashed the then-record for the hottest year ever measured, it helped initiate a new era of public and elite concern about climate change. That El Niño’s heat waves, wildfires, and mass coral bleaching previewed the far worse disasters of the decade that followed. This El Niño’s disasters and broken temperature records could be worse — and even less ignorable.