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At least for the foreseeable future. But is the Manchin-Barrasso bill actually worth it?

So … is the permitting reform bill any good or not?
Earlier this year, Senators Joe Manchin of West Virginia and John Barrasso of Wyoming proposed a bill that would change federal environmental rules so as to spur a buildout of new energy infrastructure around the country.
Their proposal would have loosened rules for oil and gas drilling and exporting while changing federal law to encourage the construction of more clean energy.
These renewables-friendly changes included creating a new legal regime that would push utilities and grid operators to build significantly more long-distance power lines, triggering a nationwide boost to renewable resources. They would also have changed the regulations governing geothermal power generation, allowing new enhanced geothermal wells to play by the same federal rules that bind oil and gas.
The legislation was announced in July and then … nothing happened.
Now it seems likely to come back. Congress is eyeing its final agenda items for the year, and permitting reform is one of them. Representative Bruce Westerman, a Republican who chairs the House Committee on Natural Resources, is currently said to be revamping Manchin and Barrasso’s proposal to include reforms to the National Environmental Policy Act, a bedrock law that guides the process — but not the outcome — of virtually every major decision that the federal government makes and requires it to study the environmental impact of its policies.
We don’t know what those changes will look like yet, though they’ll have to come soon — the new Congress gets sworn in in just a few weeks. Which means lawmakers will have to get the proposed changes, process them, and decide whether to vote for them in a very short period of time — just a few days.
So during this liminal period, then, I wanted to take a moment to look at the other parts of the bill. Earlier this year, we got a sense of what the bill’s quantitative effects might be. They suggest that the legislation — at least in the initial version proposed by Manchin and Barrasso — could very well help cut U.S. emissions, or at least leave them flat. But after that? It starts to get complicated.
Republicans have long pushed for changes to the federal government’s permitting regime.
But in recent years, Democrats — who hope to prompt a national surge of clean energy construction — have come aboard too. The Biden administration, frustrated that some parts of the Inflation Reduction Act and Bipartisan Infrastructure Law haven’t resulted in the large-scale projects they hoped for, has come to back permitting reform explicitly, although they have not endorsed Manchin and Barrasso’s bill.
“The president has been clear … that we believe permitting reform should pass on a bipartisan basis — and that we believe permitting needs to be optimized for building out a clean energy economy,” John Podesta, a White House senior advisor who is now the country’s top climate diplomat, said in a speech last year.
The White House’s support of bipartisan permitting reform is more than just posturing: Because of Senate math, any changes to the country’s permitting laws almost certainly must be bipartisan. Until a bare majority of Democratic senators exists to kill the legislative filibuster, it will take a vote of at least 60 senators — a so-called supermajority — to alter most pre-existing federal legislation.
So the question, then, is: Is this attempt at permitting reform worth passing? Is this package of fossil fuel concessions and clean energy incentives likely to reduce emissions more than it increases them?
I won’t try to answer that question comprehensively today, and we can’t even answer it fully until we know the scope of Westerman’s changes. But I do want to share an analysis from the center-left think tank Third Way and other researchers that suggests that the answer is “yes.”
This analysis, released in September, argues that Manchin and Barrasso’s bill would modestly increase emissions by encouraging more oil and gas drilling on federal lands. But that increase would likely be dwarfed by a large decrease in emissions prompted by building out the country’s electricity transmission grid.
More specifically, it finds that while the pro-fossil fuel provisions could raise global climate pollution by as much as 6.1 billion metric tons by 2050, the bill’s support for transmission could cut emissions by as much as 15.7 billion metric tons in that time (although the final number, as you’ll see, is a very high end estimate). That’s because, as I’ve written before, building the grid will allow for more renewable, geothermal, and other forms of zero-carbon electricity generation to get built. And the country can only reduce emissions by building more zero-carbon electricity.
Some of those emissions increases from oil and gas are now likely to occur whether or not the bill passes — the Trump administration will encourage fossil fuel extraction and export far beyond what a Harris administration would have done.
But even in a more conservative scenario, the transmission provisions would still cut emissions by 6.5 billion metric tons by 2050, Third Way’s synthesis says. That would mean — when compared to the pro-fossil policies — that the bill has a much more modest effect overall, cutting emissions by just over 400 million tons through 2050.
These aren’t the only numbers out there. An analysis by Jeremy Symons, the former vice president of public affairs at the Environmental Defense Fund, argues that the bill’s loosening of some Biden-era restrictions on liquified natural gas export terminals will result in a tremendous LNG boom. He asserts that the bill’s LNG provisions could increase global emissions by 8.5 to 11 gigatons; his analysis, however, draws heavily from a controversial, initially erroneous, and now updated study from the Cornell ecologist Robert Howarth that contends American natural gas is far worse for the climate than coal.
Third Way did not include Symons’ study in its analysis. Instead, it cites a different study led by the Princeton professor Jesse Jenkins (with whom I cohost Heatmap’s Shift Key podcast) that uses natural-gas emissions estimates more in line with the broader scholarly literature. That modeling study indicates that the LNG provisions in the Manchin-Barrasso bill could increase emissions by as much as 3.3 gigatons — or decrease them by 2.4 gigatons.
I’m not going to get more into the LNG question in this story. And it’s somewhat less important than it was earlier this year because Trump administration is likely to approve as many LNG export terminals as it can. (That doesn’t mean those terminals will get built: Right now, a dozen LNG terminals have been approved but not built due to a lack of global demand for more LNG.) Instead, I want to dive into two specific provisions in the bill — on oil and gas leasing and transmission — that reveal the broader challenges of trying to speak concretely about this proposal.
By far the most climate-friendly provisions in EPRA concern its support of long-distance electricity transmission. As I’ve covered before, the lack of electricity transmission is now one of the biggest barriers to building new wind, solar, and other clean energy in the United States; the construction of new wind farms, in particular, seems to be slowing down because of a lack of available power lines to carry their electrons.
Manchin and Barrasso’s proposal aims to build more transmission largely by granting new powers to the Federal Energy Regulatory Commission, the independent agency that oversees the country’s power grids. EPRA would, for instance, allow FERC to step in and approve transmission lines that are “in the national interest” if a state has not acted on a given project within a year. The law also clarifies who should pay for a new power line, encoding the idea that customers who benefit from a line should pay for it. And it lets FERC approve payments from developers to the communities where new transmission infrastructure gets built, potentially smoothing approvals at the local level.
The bill also instructs FERC to write a rule that will require each part of the country to build a minimal amount of power lines that allow regions to exchange power with their neighbors. This measure — meant to spur new “interregional” transmission infrastructure — aims to knit the national grid more closely together and lower power costs on average.
How much would these policies reduce national emissions? The truth is, that’s extremely difficult to model. “There’s nothing in the EPRA that says, Thou shalt build this much transmission,” Charles Teplin, a grid expert at the think tank RMI, told me.
Instead, the bill aims to kick off a process that will result in more transmission getting built. That transmission should — in theory — bring more renewables online. But what will the size of that buildout be, and how many emissions will those renewables displace?
Answering these questions requires, again, estimating the uncertain. To come up with a reasonable, conservative figure to represent the amount of regional transmission that might get built under the new FERC process, they looked at what happened when a similar process was overseen by the Midwest’s grid. Then they rounded down that figure significantly.
Teplin and his colleagues also assumed that some big power lines that have already been proposed nationwide — roughly 15 gigawatts, to be exact — will get completed faster because of these new laws, so their analysis starts to bring them online by 2029. One only need look at the nearly two-decade saga of SunZia, a large power line that crosses New Mexico and Arizona, to see how long it can take to finish those projects today.
Under those assumptions, the law should more than double the rate of America’s transmission buildout, Teplin and his team estimated. Right now, the country builds perhaps 1 gigawatt of new transmission lines every year; under their assumptions, that would leap to 2 to 4 gigawatts a year.
So how many emissions would these new lines avoid? Using a report published by Grid Strategies, a power sector consulting firm that advocates for more transmission, Teplin and his colleagues estimate that each “gigawatt-mile” of new transmission will let operators add about 32 gigawatts of solar and wind to the grid each year. (This suggests that, most of the time, the lines would run at about 30% of capacity.)
Finally, the team assumed that electricity from these new renewable projects will replace power from natural gas plants. That, too, is an approximation: Some of those new wind and solar farms will drive out coal plants; others might replace non-emitting resources like nuclear or hydroelectric dams; but in general they will reduce gas burning.
When you put all those figures together, RMI’s analysis suggests that the legislation could build roughly twice as much new clean energy generation by 2050 as exists in all fossil-fuel power plants today. These new resources would help avoid about 6.5 gigatons of greenhouse gas emissions by the middle of the century.
That may seem like a big number — but Third Way was actually able to reach an even larger estimate. Teplin and his team didn’t try to differentiate, for instance, between the effects of a recent FERC order, which requires utilities to build more transmission within regions, and the proposed Manchin-Barrasso bill, which shores up the legality of that FERC order and would also induce utilities to build more power lines between regions. Some legal experts argue that the recent FERC order will be on shaky ground if the Manchin-Barrasso bill doesn’t pass; others say it’s stable enough as-is.
If you assume that courts will kill the FERC order unless Congress acts, then that should raise your estimate of what Manchin-Barrasso might do. That’s essentially what Third Way did — by giving the bill more credit for the resulting regional transmission buildout, they say that its carbon upside could be as large as 15.7 gigatons over the next 25 years. I’m not sure I would be that aggressive, but I think the transmission provisions would likely initiate a big buildout of renewables.
The Manchin-Barrasso bill contains a number of provisions that aim to increase the leasing of federal land for oil and gas drilling. One set requires that the Interior Department must offer a minimum amount of acres every year for oil and gas leasing. It also says that the land offered must be land that oil and gas companies actually want to lease.
This would address one of Republicans’ biggest objections to how the Biden administration has handled oil and gas extraction on federally owned land. As part of the Inflation Reduction Act, Manchin required that the government offer a minimum amount of oil and gas acreage for every acre of public land it leased to wind and solar developers. But Republicans have accused the Biden administration of getting around this rule by, in essence, offering useless or otherwise undesirable land.
(This concession, I should add, is now essentially moot until 2029, as the Trump administration will hasten to nominate the parcels that oil and gas companies are most excited to drill on. But it could bind a future Democratic administration, requiring them to offer good parcels for oil and gas leasing at the same time that they offer federal land for renewable development.)
The bill would also change some of the rules around the drilling allowed on the borders of federally owned land. Under the Manchin-Barrasso bill, companies could drill a vertical well on privately owned land, then extend it horizontally underground into federal land to extract oil or gas.
These provisions, too, are difficult to model. Much like the transmission proposal, they won’t lead to a guaranteed amount of drilling (although they will essentially produce a minimum amount of fossil fuel leasing). Nor will they substantially change the drilling that happens under Donald Trump or a future Republican president because any fossil fuel-loving administration is already free to go much further than these provisions would require them to.
To estimate the emissions impact of these provisions, the think tank Resources for the Future first tried to draw some error bars around their analysis. As a worst-case scenario, analysts modeled what would happen if the onshore drilling that happened during the Trump administration occurred every year from 2025 to 2050. Under this “Trump forever” scenario, emissions increase about 2.1 gigatons from 2025 to 2050. Under a less dire scenario, they would increase by about 0.6 gigatons during the same period.
These estimates almost certainly exceed what EPRA would actually do, Kevin Rennert, the director of RFF’s federal climate policy initiative, told me.
“None of the provisions would require the levels of leasing that we’re analyzing in the high-leasing scenario,” he said. “It’s clear [that the model is] a high upper bound on what EPRA itself would drive.” The provisions in the Manchin-Barrasso bill, in other words, are aimed much more at putting a floor under a future Democratic administration than they are raising a ceiling for a future Republican administration.
(Over all these discussions hangs a curious question about drilling for oil and gas on public land: How important is it, really? But that’s a question for another time.)
How you feel about this reform effort ultimately depends on how you feel about gambling. Is it worth hamstringing a future Democratic president’s ability to hem in oil production in exchange for unleashing a wave of new transmission under the Trump administration? How much do you weigh building more renewables versus selling more fossil fuels to the world?
Trump’s victory last month also changes the calculus. His administration will increase onshore oil and gas leasing regardless of whether this bill passes or not. He will stop the Energy Department’s effort to slow down the construction of LNG terminals and approve a new wave of projects. All of the bill’s support for fossil fuels, in other words, would be moot — Trump will do that stuff anyway. So the question becomes whether the bill’s support for new transmission infrastructure 1) actually builds new power lines, and 2) provides a useful tailwind for renewables and clean energy during what would otherwise be a difficult four years.
You can go in almost endless loops through the politics here. Given Trump’s antipathy toward renewables, why should we expect his administration to allow a transmission buildout in the first place, regardless of what Congress says? In which case, maybe the bill isn’t worth it. But on the other hand, maybe it is — since Trump’s going to do everything he can to juice fossil fuels and fight renewables, why not pass the bill and give power system regulators in blue and purple states an extra tool to juice clean energy construction? And hey, given Trump’s friendliness toward the AI boom, maybe he’ll wind up having to build more transmission just to service data centers.
We can’t make that political call quite yet. Until we know exactly how Westerman’s addition to the legislation would change NEPA, it’s hard to say where lawmakers should come down. But what’s clear is that this may be Congress’s last chance to deal with permitting reform for a while. Next year, the Republican majority is likely to be focused on tax cuts, and it’s not even clear that the reconciliation process would allow for changing permitting law. “We’re pretty pessimistic that you could include anything on permitting or transmission or any of these other things in the reconciliation process,” Devin Hartman, a policy director at the center-right think tank the R Street Institute, told Heatmap this week.
So this is it for permitting reform — it’s now or never for this set of changes. In a year full of surprises for climate and environmental law, we may yet get one more.
Jael Holzman contributed reporting.
Editor’s note: This story has been updated to correct the magnitude of emissions reductions from the Manchin-Barrasso bill found in Third Way’s analysis.
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Julie Liu is converting gas customers to heat pumps, one home at a time.
For Julie Liu, electrifying a home is like putting on an Off- Off- Broadway show.
Working almost entirely alone, Liu serves as producer, stage manager, and director, bankrolling the production, hiring the crew, arranging the logistics, choreographing the action, and dazzling the audience — the homeowner or tenants — along the way. Heat pumps and induction stoves are the stars. Plumbers, HVAC technicians, and insulation specialists sub in for set decorators, sound engineers, and costume designers. Electricians play themselves.
If all goes well, after just a week or so of focused, frenzied work, the show arrives at the grand finale: the capping of the gas line.
Liu has staged this performance more than 25 times since 2023 as the implementation contractor for Electric Advantage, an incentive program in New York offered by the gas and electric utility Con Edison. The program covers 100% of the cost of replacing a building owner’s gas-powered appliances with electric versions, plus installing insulation and air sealing. Although it sounds too good to be true, there’s no catch — except that you have to be lucky enough to own a building that’s eligible for the program and agree to cut your gas connection.
ConEd, as it’s known, delivers natural gas to just over a million customers in the Bronx, Manhattan, Northern Queens, and Westchester County, and qualifies buildings for the program by first identifying sections of pipeline on the peripheries of its network that are due for replacement. Then it runs a cost-benefit analysis. If it would be cheaper to electrify all of the buildings served by a given stretch of gas main than to dig up the street and replace the pipe, the company starts going out to the homeowners and businesses along the line to gauge their interest. If the owners agree to go electric, that’s when Liu steps in.
There’s no established name for what Liu does. “It’s not a home improvement business, it’s not an energy efficiency business, it’s not an HVAC business,” she told me. “It’s about putting together a tight live production.” An apt title would be “electrification contractor” — one of the few, if not the only one of her kind operating in the New York area.
Anyone who has tried to electrify even just one appliance in their home has probably wished they could hire someone like Liu. Between finding an available and trustworthy contractor, navigating quotes and equipment choices, and managing ballooning costs, the process is often frustrating and confusing. It’s a major time commitment, not to mention a big capital investment — not a winning formula for mass adoption.
Liu doesn’t offer her services to just any homeowner, though. She only takes on jobs that come through contracts with utilities and government agencies like the New York State Energy Research and Development Authority, or NYSERDA. Having ConEd’s backing is actually one of the major benefits Liu brings to the work. It means she’s held to stringent standards of performance. Her business fronts the full cost of every Electric Advantage project, putting up tens of thousands of dollars for parts and labor, and only gets paid back by the utility after she demonstrates she’s met every requirement. Engineers check her design choices on the front end and the installations on the back end. A missing anti-tip bracket on a stove once almost cost her an entire $100,000 job, she told me.
Liu is the first to admit that all of this is a huge headache and a tough business model. She also fundamentally believes in this being utility-backed work. When a homeowner pursues a project on their own, the oversight is only as strong as their own ability to vet contractors and manage the job — which, with limited time, information, and leverage in the market, is likely not nearly as strong as Liu’s.
“My conviction is, for the middle class to thrive, we need to have a lot of things that are expensive to do and complex to do to become utilities,” Liu said. “That’s my hypothesis since I was 22.”
In the climate world, a lot of advocates and experts also believe that a utility-run program like Electric Advantage is the key to unlocking an all-electric future, although for slightly different reasons. When random individual homeowners decide to electrify, a shrinking number of remaining gas customers have to pay to maintain the entire pipeline system. If utilities instead strategically prune the gas system while helping customers go electric, the theory goes, it can reduce costs for remaining gas customers while also creating sustained demand for heat pump retrofits. This would help build the workforce necessary to perform them and create economies of scale.
The problem is, ConEd has 4,400 miles of gas mains. In just over two years of running Electric Advantage, the utility has retired about half of one mile. If the program, or similar ones at other New York utilities, were ever to scale from converting about a dozen buildings a year to taking on the whole state, it would need a lot more Julie Lius. ConEd has a small network of contractors who take on projects with more limited scopes, but Liu is the only one doing whole-home decarbonization.
“It’s high capex deployment of complex work in the field, and you have to have people who go into people’s homes and not piss them off,” said Liu. “That’s a very unique business.”
Liu is not exactly a known figure in the world of building electrification. She’s not on social media or otherwise broadcasting her accomplishments or policy views. You won’t find her headlining clean energy panels or on the boards of nonprofits. But Liu has been quietly leading building electrification in the New York area for nearly a decade. Her early belief in heat pumps and determination to bring them to the New York market helped lay the foundation for future programs in the state.
Long before all of this, Liu was a Taiwanese immigrant growing up in Hacienda Heights, Los Angeles. Her family moved to California from Taipei in 1983, just before she entered seventh grade. Liu told me she “did all the good, dutiful-daughter things.” Her family owned a small furniture manufacturing business, and she went to college at Carnegie Mellon for business and industrial design with the intention of helping her dad produce “more inspiring furniture than colonial reproductions.”
Then her education at Carnegie Mellon took her in a different direction. The programs were built around “productivity, process orientation, efficiency, build it cheaper, faster — it’s all about, can you get things done?” She developed an appreciation for utilities, in a broad sense — for how much of the economy was built around “serving more and more people at scale, and serving them better things.”
When she graduated in the mid-1990s, Liu broke the news to her parents that she wanted to get into telecommunications — the hot field at the time. She initially thought she wanted to work at the Federal Communications Commission, but some early mentors warned her that she wasn’t suited for government work and connected her with a job at DirectTV. “You’re too eager to get things done, you’ll be banging your head against the wall,” she recalled being told at the time. “Go to the private sector.”
She went on to spend the next 15-odd years working in satellite television in New York, with a brief interlude starting a software-as-a-service company with an ex-boyfriend that was a little too ahead of its time, according to Liu. She was successful in the industry, but she wasn’t very happy, she told me. She felt like she was “growing couch potatoes.”
By 2014, after a few zigs and zags — business school, a stint at an online real estate startup in Luxembourg — Liu found herself back in New York, unemployed, and spending a lot of her time trying to fix up the rat-infested Brooklyn brownstone she owned. The building had an oil-burning heating system that was draining her bank account. She wanted to install minisplit heat pumps, which were everywhere back in Taiwan, but at the time nobody was really doing that in New York.
In early 2016, still unemployed and living off savings and tenant rent, Liu reached out to the New York State Energy Research and Development Authority, or NYSERDA, to ask about incentives for minisplits, and got connected to a consulting firm called the Levy Partnership that was putting together a proposal for the agency’s first-ever heat pump pilot project. The company told her that brownstones were too difficult and expensive, though, and that it was planning to propose doing the pilot in just a couple of mobile homes on Long Island.
Liu was peeved. Statistically that wouldn’t have even constituted a demonstration, she told me. “That’s not even an alpha in the world of where I came from, satellite communications.” She made a bet with the firm. It was a Thursday. If she could get a bunch of her neighbors to sign letters of interest in the pilot by Monday, she told the company, then “you’re gonna copy and paste that trailer park proposal and say there’s gonna be one for brownstones.”
Needless to say, she got the letters. But Liu didn’t just get the Levy Partnership to expand its proposal or to include her brownstone in the pilot. She convinced it to hire her to help implement the projects. She had looked up the census data on home heating and saw that about half the boilers in the New York City area used expensive heating oil. “I was like, there’s the money,” she told me. She saw that people could lower their bills by switching to heat pumps, while also getting access to better cooling in the summertime. “The business opportunity was just like when I got into satellite, right? It was a transition,” she said.
A week after she and the firm co-submitted their proposal to NYSERDA, Liu incorporated her new company under the name Centsible House. (Her business now goes by the name Carta Electric Homes.) NYSERDA awarded the team the funding a few months later, and by March 2017 they were executing agreements with homeowners to participate. The pilot ran for two years and installed heat pumps in 20 homes throughout Brooklyn, Queens, the Bronx, and Long Island, including Liu’s brownstone. Learnings from those projects informed the development of New York’s statewide Clean Heat program, a partnership between utilities and the state that launched in 2020, offering rebates for heat pumps. Liu was “patient zero,” she told me.
After that, NYSERDA as well as ConEd and another local utility, National Grid, hired Liu for other demonstration projects and heat pump programs. She racked up more than a dozen trainings and certifications from the Building Performance Institute, the Environmental Protection Agency, and various equipment manufacturers, developing expertise in building envelopes, heat pumps, refrigerant systems, and health and safety.
In this piecemeal way, Liu created the job of the electrification contractor from the ground up. By the time ConEd was preparing to launch the Electric Advantage program, Liu had the only contracting business in the area that was essentially purpose-built to take it on.
On a recent Thursday morning in Croton, New York, a suburb of New York City, the show was behind schedule. Liu and I pulled up to a two-family house at the top of a hill to oversee what was supposed to be the “grand finale” day of an Electric Advantage-funded retrofit.
In this case, workers had already put in a new electrical panel, minisplit heat pumps, and a heat pump clothes dryer. Now, electricians would rewire the kitchens with 220-volt outlets for new induction stoves, while a father and son duo of plumbers would put heat pump water heaters in the basement, and a weatherization team would spray insulation around the perimeter of the basement roof and attic floor.
While still sitting in the driveway, Liu called PC Richard, the appliance store, to check on the stove delivery, but the sales rep on the other end was confused — she didn’t have anything scheduled. Liu kept her cool and worked it out, setting a new delivery date for the following day. She turned to me, with sympathy, to let me know this meant I wouldn’t get the denouement she had promised — the cutting and capping of the gas line. She made sure the plumbers could come back on Friday to finish the job.
The planning for this project began many months before, with a knock on the door from a man named Mark Brescia, who manages Electric Advantage for ConEd. Brescia does all the initial outreach, making house calls, phone calls, and sending emails, trying to sell homeowners on the idea. Part of the challenge is that in most cases, unless 100% of the buildings served by a given gas main agree to participate, the company can’t move forward because it won’t be able to retire the pipe. The majority of successful Electric Advantage projects to date have replaced gas mains that were serving a single building.
The company doesn’t sell the program to customers by talking about climate change or emissions. Instead, Brescia explains that the money that would have been spent digging up a gas pipeline could instead be used to buy them brand new appliances. “Customers are excited about the opportunity to make their everyday living more comfortable,” Brescia told me when I asked what the biggest selling point tended to be. They also “no longer worry about having to spend money to replace equipment when it fails.” If the building owner is interested, the next step is for them to schedule a visit from Liu, who does a site evaluation and budgets the job.
Survey data collected by ConEd shows that the most common reason customers decline to participate is a preference for gas cooking. The second is fear of higher electric bills. ConEd makes no guarantees to customers that their overall bills will go down if they participate, but by pairing the new appliances with air sealing and insulation, it tries to ensure the homes will run as efficiently as possible. Liu does her best to provide customer education, walking them through how to operate their heat pumps correctly — running the devices consistently, rather than turning them up and down or on and off, which uses more energy. Customers can also opt in to a special ConEd electricity rate that can save heat pump customers money if they run their systems this way.
“Many customers are still learning about the superior performance and convenience these technologies offer,” Brescia said. But there are also other bottlenecks to expanding the Electric Advantage program. Under New York law, if customers want to keep their gas service, ConEd must oblige them. So unless and until legislators change this “duty to serve,” the program will be hamstrung by customers who turn it down.
The program also currently only targets replacement of leak-prone “radial” mains — pipes that connect to the wider gas distribution system on just one end — as these can be removed without affecting system safety or reliability. The path to expanding it beyond these is uncertain because, as currently structured, that would start to put an untenable burden on customers.
Whether the money goes to a new gas main or a home electrification project, it comes from ConEd’s gas ratepayers through their bills. Whenever ConEd identifies a new batch of mains that meet the program’s specifications, it must submit a benefit-cost analysis to state regulators for approval to pursue the projects before it can begin reaching out to homeowners. In the most recent batch submitted to regulators, for example, replacing the 26 mains identified would have cost nearly $8 million, while the estimated cost of electrifying the buildings served was around $6 million, plus another $1 million in electric system upgrades. The latter is obviously a better deal for customers, even if, as an incentive, ConEd earns back part of the difference as a bonus — also paid for by customers.
Since gas customers pay for the program, it doesn’t totally solve the problem of a shrinking number of customers covering these major investments, even if they are spending less than they otherwise would. And once the most cost-effective projects get taken care of, the expense of electrification will be harder to justify.
Growing the program also depends on having more contractors like Liu to implement it, Brescia told me. Liu has a proven track record of coordinating multiple trades, upholding standards, and educating customers. “Delivering an exceptional customer experience is essential to building trust and driving widespread adoption of electric appliances,” he said.
Throughout the day that I spent with her, Liu vacillated over the question of whether she should or even could expand her business. Working alone enables her to keep costs down, she told me. “I cannot afford to hire additional people,” she said, “because every extra bit of cash flow I end up generating as a profit gets fed to more jobs” — that is, more electrification projects. She also doesn’t want to take on a bunch of high interest debt in order to front more capital to take on more projects.
At other points, she talked about scaling as both important and inevitable. She believes in whole-home electrification — both as a climate solution and as a way to change people’s lives for the better — and wants to see other entrepreneurs like her, especially women, be able to pursue this as a career. She already gets more job leads than she’s able to pursue. She’s starting to think about other fundraising options, such as finding private investors.
Liu also recently started working with a Columbia University masters student to develop software that would help manage and automate all of the “mind-numbing, insane amounts of reporting, submissions, and invoicing” she has to do. Although she already does all of the administrative work digitally, the process has only gotten more arduous as the various programs and companies she works with frequently change what and how she has to report back, whether due to shifting policies or just a round of McKinsey-ification. This is part of what prevents her from being able to take on more work, since all the bureaucratic overhead makes it harder for her to fully close a job and get paid.
Although it’s still very early in the process, her hope is that this kind of software solution could also make it easier for others to get into the field.
“I actually really think this is a very suitable career for every eight-year-old little girl who wants a Barbie’s dream house,” she told me. “If every woman can run a $10 million electrification business, it’d be great. I think we’ll get a lot more done.”
Current conditions: Everywhere from the Midwest to New York City are bracing for snow today • The death toll from flooding in Southeast Asia has eclipsed 1,000 • Temperatures of 95 degrees Fahrenheit in French Guiana, the westernmost border of the European Union, have broken December records.
Data centers’ projected electricity demand has grown so much in the last seven months that BloombergNEF increased its forecast by nearly 40%. In a new analysis published Monday, the consultancy estimated that power demand from U.S. data centers will surge to 106 gigawatts by 2035. That’s 36% higher than BloombergNEF’s outlook published in April, “illustrating just how quickly the sector is expanding,” the consultancy wrote.
The finding illustrates the key challenge facing the grid as data centers complete construction far faster than new gas turbines, nuclear reactors, or even solar panels can be built and patched onto the grid. That reality has put new value on the ability of data centers to power down when the grid is overtaxed, a process Heatmap’s Matthew Zeitlin described as “one weird trick for getting more data centers on the grid.” It also shows why data centers are becoming so politically contentious that the “backlash,” as our colleague Jael Holzman put it, “is swallowing American politics.”
Back in August, I told you about how the Federal Emergency Management Agency suspended staffers who signed onto a letter criticizing President Donald Trump’s plans to gut the agency. Now the Trump administration has reinstated 14 employees placed on administrative leave after their signatures on a letter addressed to Congress were considered “misconduct.” In notices sent to the workers last week, which The New York Times reviewed, FEMA said the “misconduct investigation has been closed, and as a result you are being removed from administrative leave.” The notices did not disclose the probe’s findings, and FEMA’s parent agency, the Department of Homeland Security, didn’t respond to the newspaper’s questions.
The move comes as Illinois Governor JB Pritzker accuses Trump of politicizing disaster relief. The billionaire Democrat, who is widely discussed as a potential presidential candidate in 2028, said the White House rejected two separate requests for $130 million to help households affected by storms in late July and mid-August. E&E News called the denial “unusual” since “the damage documented by the administration was at such a high level that it would routinely lead to a presidential approval for disaster aid.”
The National Renewable Energy Laboratory is dead. Long live the National Laboratory of the Rockies. The lab’s focus on clean energy wasn’t unique. Nuclear power, for example, benefits from receiving the primary focus at sites such as the Idaho, Argonne, and Oak Ridge national laboratories. But the Department of Energy said Monday that the rebranding was part of an effort to broaden NREL’s scope. “The energy crisis we face today is unlike the crisis that gave rise to NREL,” Assistant Secretary of Energy Audrey Robertson, a key deputy of Secretary of Energy Chris Wright (whose unique professional history with Wright I wrote about last week), said in a statement. “We are no longer picking and choosing energy sources. Our highest priority is to invest in the scientific capabilities that will restore American manufacturing, drive down costs, and help this country meet its soaring energy demand. The National Lab of the Rockies will play a vital role in those efforts.”
In its press release, the Energy Department said NREL was formed amid the 1973 oil crisis and that the new name “reflects the Trump Administration’s broader vision for the lab’s applied energy research, which historically emphasized alternative and renewable sources of generation, and honors the natural splendor of the lab’s surroundings in Golden, Colorado.”
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In March, the Trump administration approved a $5 billion loan aimed to help restart the French oil giant TotalEnergies’ controversial liquified natural gas project in Mozambique. Though the project initially had international support, the southeast African nation has faced ongoing challenges from extreme weather and an Islamist insurgency, which mounted a deadly terrorist attack that caused work on the project to shut down in 2021. Troops from Rwanda have since come in to secure the area.
On Monday, however, the British government decided to pull its $1.15 billion loan, the Financial Times reported. Initially approved in 2020, the public financing faced fierce pushback from environmental and human rights groups. The Netherlands also announced Monday that it would stop backing the project.
Direct air capture is going big in Japan. On Tuesday morning, the U.S. carbon removal startup Heirloom announced investments from the Development Bank of Japan and Chiyoda Corporation, building on $150 million in Series B funding the company closed last year. That financing round also included investments from Japan Airlines, the industrial giant Mitsubishi Corporation, and the trading behemoth Mitsui & Co. The move comes as Japan’s greenhouse gas-trading system is poised to shift from voluntary participation to mandatory compliance next year, becoming Asia’s second-largest carbon market.
Heirloom had planned to build a giant DAC facility in Shreveport, Louisiana, as Heatmap’s Katie Brigham reported last year. But as our colleague Emily Pontecorvo wrote in October, the Trump administration looks poised to slash federal funding to support construction of DAC plants, making the fate of the Shreveport project unclear.
In the race to develop next-generation technology to harvest water straight out of the air, AirJoule Technologies has a promising lead. The GE Vernova-backed startup is already publicly traded and has deals with major industrial giants such as appliance maker Carrier. Now the company has inked a deal with a hyperscaler to sell water to cool data centers and use waste heat from the servers to power production of that same water. In a press release, the data center company, Nexus Data Centers, said AirJoule’s “waste-heat-to-water approach provides a superior solution by utilizing thermal energy we are already generating to produce high purity water for electricity production and cooling systems.”
Editor’s note: This article has been updated to correct the relationship of the new investments in Heirloom to its previous funding round.
A new working paper from a trio of eminent economists tallies the effects of warming — particularly extreme weather — on Americans’ budgets.
Attempts to quantify the costs of climate change often end up as philosophical exercises in forecasting and quantifying the future. Such projects involve (at least) two difficult tasks: establishing what is the current climate “pathway” we’re on, which means projecting hard-to-predict phenomena such as future policy actions and potential climate system feedbacks; and then deciding how to value the wellbeing of those people who will be born in the decades — or centuries — to come versus those who are alive today.
But what about the climate impacts we’re paying for right now? That’s the question explored in a working paper by former Treasury Department officials Kimberley Clausing, an economist at the University of California, Los Angeles, and Catherine Wolfram, an economist at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, along with Wolfram’s MIT colleague Christopher Knittel.
“We wanted to do the accounting exercise and put it all together,” Wolfram told me. Their method: Simply add up the existing harms of climate change, and boom, there’s your answer.
This approach stands in contrast to the more well-worn modeling and forecasting projects that make up much of the climate harms literature. “Projections about the future are important to make future-oriented policy,” Clausing told me. “But one of the things that’s kind of surprising and interesting to us that I don’t think has been fairly accounted for is how much climate change is already affecting household budgets.”
The paper is meant to intervene in current debates in climate and progressive policy circles over affordability — namely whether policy to address climate change should be put on the back (induction?) burner in light of concerns about how restrictions on fossil fuels or mandates for renewable energy can increase consumer costs, especially utility bills.
“What really motivated the paper, to be honest, is that we noticed that a lot of observers have made statements about climate policy action where they’re like, We’d love to do this, that, or the other thing, but it’s hard to do because the action would fall more heavily on the poor.”
The paper began its life in the fall as part of the semi-annual Brookings Papers on Economic Activity conference before being released this week as a working paper by the National Bureau of Economic Research this week.
Their research has not yet been peer reviewed, but the authors found that even using what they describe as a “narrow accounting” method — looking only at climate impacts from heat and extreme weather on household budgets and mortality — there were “sizable costs to U.S. households from recent climate change patterns.” Those started at $400 per year and went as high as $900 depending on how extreme weather were attributed to climate change, adding up to an aggregate cost of about $50 billion to $110 billion nationwide.
The direct effects of high temperatures may be easier to forecast, but the most extensive damage of climate change, in the United States, at least, runs downstream from high temperatures: storms, floods, and especially wildfires. Clausing and the authors attribute this to the fact that the United States has already made huge investments in adapting to heat in the form of air conditioning. Adaptations for natural disasters — flood walls, moving homes and businesses out of flood plains, universal indoor air purification, building codes for fire prevention — are farther behind.
Looking specifically at cost increases due to health effects from climate change, wildfires are the primary cost center.
“Wildfires have two impacts,” Wolfram told me. “One is the destruction that they cause — we see that in property insurance. The other thing, and that is probably the most surprising to us, is how bad the wildfire smoke has become.”
Those same wildfires, of course, feed into spiraling insurance costs, especially in the West.
Insurance costs top the list of household costs the authors attribute to climate change more broadly, making up more than half of the total. Citing research on homeowners insurance by University of Pennsylvania and University of Wisconsin researchers Benjamin Keys and Philip Mulder, the authors found that “average nominal premiums rose by 33% between 2020 and 2023, with disaster-prone areas experiencing particularly steep increases.”
One frequent argument against climate mitigation policies is that they cost the poor disproportionately; for example, a tax on gasoline has a bigger proportional effect on low-income drivers because a greater portion of their income is spent on fueling their car. But “if you don’t do anything, that has a disproportionate burden on the poor,” Clausing told me. That’s because the costs of dealing with climate change — higher insurance premiums, higher health insurance premiums, higher electric bills for more air conditioning — weigh more heavily on people with lower incomes, she and her co-authors found.
“Poor people may have a harder time and be more likely to be displaced by disasters,” Clausing told me.
The paper’s authors emphasized that their results show the need for climate adaptation as well as emissions-reducing policy, but also that forward-looking adaptation can’t happen if there’s insufficient information. Insufficient information appears to be exactly what some people want. Disputes over climate information have a well known political valence, with federal agencies under the current administration reducing their efforts to collect and publish climate data.
But the private sector has its own reasons not to be completely fulsome with climate-related risk data.
The New York Times reported this weekend, for instance, that the online real estate marketplace Zillow has removed climate risk scores from “more than one million home sale listings,” following complaints from real estate agents.“They’re doing people a disservice,” Clausing told me when I asked her about Zillow’s action.
“Of course, if my home’s on a floodplain, I’m not happy that this information is available to everyone on Zillow,” Clausing said. But the alternative is, “if my home’s in a floodplain, just pretending that that’s the same as if it were in a very safe place.” Which is fine, but it won’t stop your insurance bill from rising.