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:
Carbon capture might be EPA’s strongest tool to cut emissions from power plants. That could scramble battle lines.
Carbon capture, one of the most controversial climate solutions, could soon become a centerpiece of U.S. climate policy.
The Environmental Protection Agency is expected to finally unveil its proposal to cut emissions from power plants next week. In the lead up to the announcement, The New York Times reported that the agency is planning to set greenhouse gas emission limits for new and existing power plants based on the reductions that could be achieved by installing equipment to catch emissions from plant smokestacks before they enter the atmosphere.
The funny thing is, whether you see promise in carbon capture or deem it a boondoggle, this is probably the most aggressive approach the EPA can take for power plants. It could even speed up the transition to renewable energy. And for that reason, it’s going to put both proponents and critics of the technology in a weird position, scrambling the usual battle lines on the subject.
Due to the Supreme Court’s ruling in last year’s West Virginia vs. EPA case, the agency’s legal avenues for reducing emissions from the power sector are limited. It can’t force utilities to shut down their fossil fuel power plants and switch to renewables. Instead, it must stick to reductions that can be achieved “within the fenceline” of a power plant.
That leaves a few options. The agency could base its rule on improvements to power plant efficiency. It could look to the potential for coal plants to co-fire with gas or for gas plants to burn hydrogen. But neither would reduce emissions as much as a rule based on carbon capture, Lissa Lynch, a senior attorney at the Natural Resources Defense Council told me in an email. And the Inflation Reduction Act, which contained huge tax credits for carbon capture, makes it possible for the agency to argue that carbon capture is an economically feasible solution, as my colleague Robinson Meyer has reported.
Here’s the twist: That doesn’t mean that every plant would have to install carbon capture. States would have the authority to create their own implementation plans to comply with the standard, and a range of options for how to do it. They might choose to shut down some power plants and replace them with renewables, or operate plants less frequently. But since renewables are so cheap, shifting to solar, wind, and batteries may be the more common response than investing in carbon capture.
The research firm Rhodium Group recently modeled the potential emission reductions from carbon capture-based power plant rule, taking into account new tax credits from the Inflation Reduction Act, and found that only about 20 gigawatts’ worth of coal and gas plants would end up installing carbon capture by 2035. By comparison, some 700 gigawatts of coal and gas plants operate today.
Over the past few years, under increased pressure from investors to show what they are doing about climate change, the oil and gas industry has ramped up its advocacy for carbon capture. Many fossil fuel producers and electric utilities now have net-zero plans that rely heavily on the technology. In 2021, ExxonMobil announced plans to work with 15 other companies to develop a $100 billion carbon capture hub in Houston. DTE, a Michigan utility that owns power plants in California, may have even engineered an entire dark money campaign to convince California regulators to make carbon capture part of the state’s climate plan.
In the American Petroleum Institute’s 2021 Climate Action Framework, the lobbying group said one of its goals was to “Fast-track the Commercial Deployment of Carbon Capture, Utilization and Storage,” and wrote that it “supports federal policies to achieve the ‘at-scale phase’ of CCUS commercial deployment.” (CCUS stands for carbon capture, utilization, and storage.)
On social media, API paints carbon capture as a present-day solution. “Advancements in carbon capture technology from the brightest minds in the energy industry are slashing emissions and creating a cleaner future,” it recently tweeted.
\u201cAdvancements in carbon capture technology from the brightest minds in the energy industry are slashing emissions and creating a cleaner future.\u201d— American Petroleum Institute (@American Petroleum Institute) 1680725045
At the same time, large swaths of the environmental community have joined together to oppose the technology. In July 2021, more than 500 organizations signed on to a letter to U.S. leaders in Washington arguing that carbon capture is not a climate solution. “Simply put, technological carbon capture is a dangerous distraction,” the groups wrote. “We don’t need to fix fossil fuels, we need to ditch them.” Many, many environmental groups have published treatises on why carbon capture is unproven, too expensive, harms communities, and prolongs dependence on fossil fuels.
But as the new power plant regulations loom, proponents of carbon capture have started to temper their enthusiasm, citing some of those same concerns.
In comments submitted to the EPA in March, the American Petroleum Institute’s vice president of natural gas markets, Dustin Meyer, only mentions the technology as an afterthought, underscoring that it isn’t viable yet. After a long section highlighting the benefits of switching from coal to natural gas for power generation, he writes, “In the future ... new technologies like CCUS can offer additional opportunities to reduce emissions.” The American Petroleum Institute declined to comment for this story.
Southern Company, which owns gas and electric utilities across six states, submitted extensive comments to the EPA arguing that carbon capture was “many years away.” The company manages and operates the National Carbon Capture Center, where it conducts research on the technology. Its climate plan suggests that some 21% of its electricity generation will come from natural gas plants with carbon capture by 2050. And it’s in the process of conducting an engineering study to install the technology on one of its natural gas plants in Alabama.
But carbon capture isn’t ready for commercial deployment, Southern writes, using an example that’s often cited by critics of the technology — Petra Nova. Petra Nova is a carbon capture project at a coal-fired power plant in Texas that was mothballed in 2020 when it lost buyers for the captured carbon. While it operated, it experienced frequent outages and failed to capture the amount of carbon it was designed to. Its failure, Southern writes, illustrates that more research is needed to reduce the cost of carbon capture and improve reliability and performance, “which are critical when facilities are required to meet regulatory emission limits.”
Meanwhile, some of the loudest proponents of carbon capture in the upcoming EPA regulations have been environmental groups like the Natural Resources Defense Council, Evergreen Action, and the Clean Air Task Force. This isn’t exactly surprising. These groups, in particular, have historically been supportive of carbon capture technology.
“Industry has been touting the promise of carbon capture and storage for decades,” Lynch of the Natural Resources Defense Council told me. “It hasn’t been widely deployed on power plants because there currently aren’t any federal restrictions on the amount of carbon pollution that power plants can emit.”
Jay Duffy, litigation director at Clean Air Task Force, said the industry’s claims are unfounded. He cited studies by the Department of Energy’s National Energy Technology Laboratory which show that carbon capture is economical, when considering the new tax credits in the Inflation Reduction Act. There are already 13 vendors offering the technology for gas-fired power plants, he said.
Moving forward, some of carbon capture’s biggest critics might find that they need to support a carbon capture-based standard. The Center for Biological Diversity submitted comments to the EPA criticizing the technology, but did not suggest an alternative basis for the rule. When I asked Jason Rylander, legal director for the organization’s Climate Law Institute, whether they would support a standard based on carbon capture, he didn’t say no.
“The big problem is that the existing fossil fuel fleet is essentially uncontrolled for climate pollution in the middle of a climate crisis,” he told me. “That has to stop.”
Rylander couldn’t say where his organization would come down on the rule without seeing it, but he said that if it was based on carbon capture, there would have to be “extremely strong guardrails to ensure the safety and performance of the equipment.” But he also acknowledged that the EPA’s increasingly tough regulatory environment for power plants, along with tax incentives for clean energy in the Inflation Reduction Act, could mean that very little carbon capture would ultimately get built.
“It may very well be that the majority of plants meet these standards by other means.”
Log in
To continue reading, log in to your account.
Create a Free Account
To unlock more free articles, please create a free account.
It was a curious alliance from the start. On the one hand, Donald Trump, who made antipathy toward electric vehicles a core part of his meandering rants. On the other hand, Elon Musk, the man behind the world’s largest EV company, who nonetheless put all his weight, his millions of dollars, and the power of his social network behind the Trump campaign.
With Musk standing by his side on Election Day, Trump has once again secured the presidency. His reascendance sent shock waves through the automotive world, where companies that had been lurching toward electrification with varying levels of enthusiasm were left to wonder what happens now — and what benefits Tesla may reap from having hitched itself to the winning horse.
Certainly the federal government’s stated target of 50% of U.S. new car sales being electric by 2030 is toast, and many of the actions it took in pursuit of that goal are endangered. Although Trump has softened his rhetoric against EVs since becoming buddies with Musk, it’s hard to imagine a Trump administration with any kind of ambitious electrification goal.
During his first go-round as president, Trump attacked the state of California’s ability to set its own ambitious climate-focused rules for cars. No surprise there: Because of the size of the California car market, its regulations helped to drag the entire industry toward lower-emitting vehicles and, almost inevitably, EVs. If Trump changes course and doesn’t do the same thing this time, it’ll be because his new friend at Tesla supports those rules.
The biggest question hanging over electric vehicles, however, is the fate of the Biden administration’s signature achievements in climate and EV policy, particularly the Inflation Reduction Act’s $7,500 federal consumer tax credit for electric vehicles. A Trump administration looks poised to tear down whatever it can of its predecessor’s policy. Some analysts predict it’s unlikely the entire IRA will disappear, but concede Trump would try to kill off the incentives for electric vehicles however he can.
There’s no sugar-coating it: Without the federal incentives, the state of EVs looks somewhat bleak. Knocking $7,500 off the starting price is essential to negate the cost of manufacturing expensive lithium-ion batteries and making EVs cost-competitive with ordinary combustion cars. Consider a crucial model like the new Chevy Equinox EV: Counting the federal incentive, the most basic $35,000 model could come in under the starting price of a gasoline crossover like the Toyota RAV4. Without that benefit, buyers who want to go electric will have to pay a premium to do so — the thing that’s been holding back mass electrification all along.
Musk, during his honeymoon with Trump, boasted that Tesla doesn’t need the tax credits, as if daring the president-elect to kill off the incentives. On the one hand, this is obviously false. Visit Tesla’s website and you’ll see the simplest Model 3 listed for $29,990, but this is a mirage. Take away the $7,500 in incentives and $5,000 in claimed savings versus buying gasoline, and the car actually starts at about $43,000, much further out of reach for non-wealthy buyers.
What Musk really means is that his company doesn’t need the incentives nearly as bad as other automakers do. Ford is hemorrhaging billions of dollars as it struggles to make EVs profitably. GM’s big plan to go entirely electric depended heavily on federal support. As InsideEVsnotes, the likely outcome of a Trump offensive against EVs is that the legacy car brands, faced with an unpredictable electrification roadmap as America oscillates between presidents, scale back their plans and lean back into the easy profitably of big, gas-guzzling SUVs and trucks. Such an about-face could hand Tesla the kind of EV market dominance it enjoyed four or five years ago when it sold around 75% of all electric vehicles in America.
That’s tough news for the climate-conscious Americans who want an electric vehicle built by someone not named Elon Musk. Hundreds of thousands of people, myself included, bought a Tesla during the past five or six years because it was the most practical EV for their lifestyle, only to see the company’s figurehead shift his public persona from goofy troll to Trump acolyte. It’s not uncommon now, as Democrats distance themselves from Tesla, to see Model 3s adorned with bumper stickers like the “Anti-Elon Tesla Club,” as one on a car I followed last month proclaimed. Musk’s newest vehicle, the Cybertruck, is a rolling embodiment of the man’s brand, a vehicle purpose-built to repel anyone not part of his cult of personality.
In a world where this version of Tesla retakes control of the electric car market, it becomes harder to ditch gasoline without indirectly supporting Donald Trump, by either buying a Tesla or topping off at its Superchargers. Blue voters will have some options outside of Tesla — the industry has come too far to simply evaporate because of one election. But it’s also easy to see dispirited progressives throwing up their hands and buying another carbon-spewing Subaru.
Republicans are taking over some of the most powerful institutions for crafting climate policy on Earth.
When Republicans flipped the Senate, they took the keys to three critical energy and climate-focused committees.
These are among the most powerful institutions for crafting climate policy on Earth. The Senate plays the role of gatekeeper for important legislation, as it requires a supermajority to overcome the filibuster. Hence, it’s both where many promising climate bills from the House go to die, as well as where key administrators such as the heads of the Department of Energy and the Environmental Protection Agency are vetted and confirmed.
We’ll have to wait a bit for the Senate’s new committee chairs to be officially confirmed. But Jeff Navin, co-founder at the climate change-focused government affairs firm Boundary Stone Partners, told me that since selections are usually based on seniority, in many cases it’s already clear which Republicans are poised to lead under Trump and which Democrats will assume second-in-command (known as the ranking member). Here’s what we know so far.
This committee has been famously led by Joe Manchin, the former Democrat, now Independent senator from West Virginia, who will retire at the end of this legislative session. Energy and Natural Resources has a history of bipartisan collaboration and was integral in developing many of the key provisions in the Inflation Reduction Act — and could thus play a key role in dismantling them. Overall, the committee oversees the DOE, the Department of the Interior, the U.S. Forest Service, and the Federal Energy Regulatory Commission, so it’s no small deal that its next chairman will likely be Mike Lee, the ultra-conservative Republican from Utah. That’s assuming that the committee's current ranking member, John Barrasso of Wyoming, wins his bid for Republican Senate whip, which seems very likely.
Lee opposes federal ownership of public lands, setting himself up to butt heads with Martin Heinrich, the Democrat from New Mexico and likely the committee’s next ranking member. Lee has also said that solving climate change is simply a matter of having more babies, as “problems of human imagination are not solved by more laws, they’re solved by more humans.” As Navin told me, “We've had this kind of safe space where so-called quiet climate policy could get done in the margins. And it’s not clear that that's going to continue to exist with the new leadership.”
This committee is currently chaired by Democrat Tom Carper of Delaware, who is retiring after this term. Poised to take over is the Republican’s current ranking member, Shelley Moore Capito of West Virginia. She’s been a strong advocate for continued reliance on coal and natural gas power plants, while also carving out areas of bipartisan consensus on issues such as nuclear energy, carbon capture, and infrastructure projects during her tenure on the committee. The job of the Environment and Public Works committee is in the name: It oversees the EPA, writes key pieces of environmental legislation such as the Clean Air Act and Clean Water Act, and supervises public infrastructure projects such as highways, bridges, and dams.
Navin told me that many believe the new Democratic ranking member will be Sheldon Whitehouse of Rhode Island, although to do so, he would have to step down from his perch at the Senate Budget Committee, where he is currently chair. A tireless advocate of the climate cause, Whitehouse has worked on the Environment and Public Works committee for over 15 years, and lately seems to have had a relatively productive working relationship with Capito.
This subcommittee falls under the broader Senate Appropriations Committee and is responsible for allocating funding for the DOE, various water development projects, and various other agencies such as the Nuclear Regulatory Commission.
California’s Dianne Feinstein used to chair this subcommittee until her death last year, when Democrat Patty Murray of Washington took over. Navin told me that the subcommittee’s next leader will depend on how the game of “musical chairs” in the larger Appropriations Committee shakes out. Depending on their subcommittee preferences, the chair could end up being John Kennedy of Louisiana, outgoing Senate Minority Leader Mitch McConnell of Kentucky, or Lisa Murkowski of Alaska. It’s likewise hard to say who the top Democrat will be.
Inside a wild race sparked by a solar farm in Knox County, Ohio.
The most important climate election you’ve never heard of? Your local county commissioner.
County commissioners are usually the most powerful governing individuals in a county government. As officials closer to community-level planning than, say a sitting senator, commissioners wind up on the frontlines of grassroots opposition to renewables. And increasingly, property owners that may be personally impacted by solar or wind farms in their backyards are gunning for county commissioner positions on explicitly anti-development platforms.
Take the case of newly-elected Ohio county commissioner – and Christian social media lifestyle influencer – Drenda Keesee.
In March, Keesee beat fellow Republican Thom Collier in a primary to become a GOP nominee for a commissioner seat in Knox County, Ohio. Knox, a ruby red area with very few Democratic voters, is one of the hottest battlegrounds in the war over solar energy on prime farmland and one of the riskiest counties in the country for developers, according to Heatmap Pro’s database. But Collier had expressed openness to allowing new solar to be built on a case-by-case basis, while Keesee ran on a platform focused almost exclusively on blocking solar development. Collier ultimately placed third in the primary, behind Keesee and another anti-solar candidate placing second.
Fighting solar is a personal issue for Keesee (pronounced keh-see, like “messy”). She has aggressively fought Frasier Solar – a 120 megawatt solar project in the country proposed by Open Road Renewables – getting involved in organizing against the project and regularly attending state regulator hearings. Filings she submitted to the Ohio Power Siting Board state she owns a property at least somewhat adjacent to the proposed solar farm. Based on the sheer volume of those filings this is clearly her passion project – alongside preaching and comparing gay people to Hitler.
Yesterday I spoke to Collier who told me the Frasier Solar project motivated Keesee’s candidacy. He remembered first encountering her at a community meeting – “she verbally accosted me” – and that she “decided she’d run against me because [the solar farm] was going to be next to her house.” In his view, he lost the race because excitement and money combined to produce high anti-solar turnout in a kind of local government primary that ordinarily has low campaign spending and is quite quiet. Some of that funding and activity has been well documented.
“She did it right: tons of ground troops, people from her church, people she’s close with went door-to-door, and they put out lots of propaganda. She got them stirred up that we were going to take all the farmland and turn it into solar,” he said.
Collier’s takeaway from the race was that local commissioner races are particularly vulnerable to the sorts of disinformation, campaign spending and political attacks we’re used to seeing more often in races for higher offices at the state and federal level.
“Unfortunately it has become this,” he bemoaned, “fueled by people who have little to no knowledge of what we do or how we do it. If you stir up enough stuff and you cry out loud enough and put up enough misinformation, people will start to believe it.”
Races like these are happening elsewhere in Ohio and in other states like Georgia, where opposition to a battery plant mobilized Republican primaries. As the climate world digests the federal election results and tries to work backwards from there, perhaps at least some attention will refocus on local campaigns like these.