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The 21st Century ROAD to Housing Act achieves some climate advocate wishlist items — and sets back others.

On Thursday, the Senate overwhelmingly approved the 21st Century ROAD to Housing Act, which has been touted by pundits and commentators across the ideological spectrum as the most significant housing package in decades. The bill is the result of eight months of work by legislators, beginning last July with the introduction of South Carolina Republican Senator Tim Scott and Massachusetts Democratic Senator Elizabeth Warren’s ROAD to Housing Act; continuing with the House’s Housing for the 21st Century Act, which passed in February; and concluding with Scott and Warren’s updated and unified bill, which was approved by the upper chamber Thursday by 89 votes to 10.
The bill still faces an uncertain future in the House, but its passage is nevertheless a milestone for U.S. federal housing policy — and, in less obvious ways, for climate policy. In addition to provisions addressing zoning and financial literacy, the 21st Century ROAD to Housing Act takes on a number of issues on the wishlist of climate and housing advocates. It also complicates or sets back other climate-related housing goals.
“For the climate community, which I consider myself firmly a part of, it’s really important to see the areas of the bill that don’t come anywhere close to talking about climate but have such a huge benefit,” Andrew Rumbach, a senior fellow in the Housing and Communities Division at the Urban Institute, told me.
Here’s our breakdown of the biggest climate-related provisions in the bill:
One of the most contentious parts of the Senate’s housing bill is section 901, which focuses on “build to rent” housing — that is, single-family and duplex communities that developers construct for the purpose of renting rather than selling as individually owned homes. The bill would restrict investors who directly or indirectly own 350 or more units from purchasing additional single-family homes; for homes that do meet certain exemptions, as well as for new build-to-rent construction, investors would be required to sell the home to an individual buyer within seven years. The rules are restrictive enough that opponents have taken to describing Section 901 as a build-to-rent “ban.”
Hawaii’s Democratic Senator Brian Schatz, a self-described climate hawk, is one of the leading voices advocating to nix the ban. (He was one of the 10 votes against the bill on Thursday.) In a floor speech on Wednesday night, Schatz said he considers the ban to be a “drafting error,” adding that it is “bananas” and “Soviet” to distinguish between single-family homes (which are described as two or fewer dwelling units, and include duplexes) and triplexes, and force their sale.
M. Nolan Gray, the senior director of legislation and research for California YIMBY, concurs. “The best case scenario is, we play weird shell games about which entity owns what,” he told me. “The worst case scenario is capital is scared off, and a lot of this housing production just stops.”
Mike Kingsella, the CEO of Up for Growth, a housing advocacy group that has pushed for an amendment to section 901 to soften the ban, told me, “What we’re saying to multi-family home developers is that it is fine if you do a garden-style apartment, but if you take the exact same property and you want to build houses on it, that’s not allowed.”
The implication, Kingsella said, is essentially that two-bedroom apartments should be built, but you cannot build three- to four-bedroom homes for a young family without the money for a down payment. Section 901 “takes a rung out of the ladder from the small studio you live in when you leave school and get your first job to when you eventually own your own home,” Kingsella said.
Another argument, however, is that the ban would push developers to create more high-density housing, such as apartment buildings, which are more energy-efficient and better for the environment than sprawling suburban single-family home developments. A ban on build-to-rent homes could also encourage greater investment in multi-bedroom apartments, which ought to be seen as a valuable housing solution in their own right rather than just as a stepping-stone to owning a single-family home, the argument goes. (Schatz’s team did not respond to a request for comment about this.)
Gray, however, was skeptical: “Maybe investors who are building townhouses in suburban Atlanta suddenly start building five-over-ones downtown,” he said, referring to buildings that consist of four residential floors over retail space, a common mixed-use construction. “But I wouldn’t assume it without any basis.”
Section 208 reclassifies smaller-scale projects funded by the Department of Housing and Urban Development into categories that require less extensive review under the National Environmental Policy Act, ostensibly to speed up housing construction. An expert I spoke to who requested anonymity to avoid retaliation by the government cautioned, though, that the reclassification doesn’t just cut red tape; it also removes the mechanism that requires HUD to ask questions like, “Is this site contaminated?” or “Is this building in a floodway?”
As written, the bill grants acquisitions of property a categorical exclusion under NEPA so long as whatever the agency does with the property does not “materially alter environmental conditions.” But not materially altering environmental conditions is meaningless in practice without a definition under NEPA, the expert explained, and it would allow regulators to interpret the law as waiving all site contamination and flood-risk requirements for acquisition projects that do not involve physical construction.
Let’s say a HUD grantee acquires a housing complex that was constructed on a polluted site — they would no longer have to screen for contamination because they aren’t physically altering the environment. Likewise, the bill would allow “Camp Mystic-style scenarios,” the expert said, referring to the July 4 Texas flood that killed 27 people, including 25 young campers. Under the Senate bill, acquiring an existing building in a flood zone would not require any environmental screening or adaptation measures.
Further, the bill does not waive liability under the Comprehensive Environmental Response, Compensation, and Liability Act, better known as the Superfund law. So if a grantee acquires a contaminated site and does not conduct environmental reviews, as permitted by section 208, they would still face federal liability for any contamination.
In practice, NEPA environmental reviews on HUD projects almost never generate public comments or result in litigation, meaning that this provision will not actually do much to speed construction. Section 208 is a “paper tiger,” the expert told me, exposing the low-income housing residents HUD is meant to help protect from contaminants and flood risk.
Section 203, a.k.a. the Whole-Home Repairs Act authorizes a five-year pilot program to offer grants and forgivable loans to qualifying homeowners and small landlords to fund upgrades related to energy and water efficiency, weatherization, habitability, and accessibility measures like ramps and grab bars. “The intention is to fund home repair and rehabilitation specifically for low- and moderate-income homeowners — think Michigan, Wisconsin, Minnesota, the north Great Lakes region, Allegheny County, Pittsburgh, and so on,” Kingsella told me. “It’s for homes that are not in great repair, and that there’s not really an easy way to finance rehabilitation.”
The grants also address climate-related issues without using the radioactive word itself. Though the section doesn’t go into much detail about what energy and water efficiency or weatherization upgrades might entail, one named credentialing organization is the Energy Star program, the federal government’s energy efficiency standard-setting organization, which the Trump administration tried to kill last year. Congress later rescued the program in its 2026 budget, and the Senate reaffirmed its commitment to Energy Star in the housing bill. That’s significant in places like Appalachia, where the cost of energy can rival that of rent.
Kingsella also noted that experts anticipate Americans will move north over the next 10 to 15 years to places with cooler climates, putting a strain on the region’s older housing stock. “This type of resource positions those communities to proactively increase or boost attainable homes with the expectation that a lot more people will be moving into these places,” he said.
Another pilot outlined in the section 212 of the bill would establish a grant program to convert vacant or abandoned industrial and commercial buildings (think former warehouses, factories, hotels, and strip malls) into affordable housing. Grants would run between $1 million and $10 million — for reference, the conversion of an abandoned textile mill in Philadelphia’s Kensington neighborhood into 51 units of affordable housing cost $17.8 million in 2017 — and prioritize areas facing “economic distress.”
While cities like New York have explored converting empty office buildings into affordable housing, developers run into the problem that larger floor plans lack central window access, requiring either fewer units or expensive, extensive modifications, such as light wells down the core of the building. The RESIDE Act won’t support those kinds of conversions; it is more limited in scope and ambition, focusing instead on the types of conversions that are already happening in places like Cleveland and Pittsburgh — “northeastern cities with older commercial stock, which have smaller floor plates, which is critical,” Kingsella said.
The program’s budget comes from excess funds in the Home Improvement Partnerships Program, an existing HUD program. “The approach this bill takes is to set aside monies from home investments to property owners to do the conversion work,” Kingsella told me.
The Housing Supply Expansion Act in section 301 of the bill extends the definition of a manufactured home to include units that lack a “permanent chassis,” the steel frame that allows a home to be attached to wheels and move. The language makes the distinction between manufactured homes and modular homes much thinner, which advocates say will make the homes more socially acceptable and affordable.
“It lowers the cost of manufactured housing; it improves the resilience of manufactured housing — it’s great if it does not blow a hole in manufactured housing efficiency standards,” Mark Kresowik, a senior policy director at the American Council for an Energy-Efficient Economy, told me.
About those efficiency standards: Section 301 also stipulates that “no energy efficiency standards for manufactured homes developed by any Federal agency shall have legal effect unless adopted by” HUD. That plays into a long-running tug-of-war between HUD and the Department of Energy over which agency has authority to set energy standards for this class of homes. The DOE issued stricter (and much-delayed) standards in 2022, while HUD has not updated its regulations since 1994. “If the HUD standards for manufactured housing are to have sufficient insulation, air sealing, efficiency requirements — then great,” Kresowik said. “If they aren’t, then this is a big problem.”
Section 501 formally establishes an Office of Disaster Management and Resiliency at HUD, creates a long-term disaster recovery fund in the U.S. Treasury, and establishes a permanent Community Development Block Grant Disaster Recovery program. “This is something that survivors, communities, and experts have been hoping for for many years,” Rumbach told me.
Though the language dances around extreme weather — the term, along with the word “climate,” appears not a single time in the bill — it is designed to more nimbly respond to catastrophes that are part and parcel with a warming atmosphere. Section 501 sets a 90-day clock for delivering disaster funds, compared to the years it would sometimes take previously, and requires that up to 18% of CDBG-DR allocations go toward mitigation.
One major loss for the climate coalition in the ROAD to Housing Act is the elimination of the Build More Housing Near Transit Act, which was included in the House’s version of the bill. The provision would have provided more incentives for building housing, which “seems like a common-sense reform to me,” Nolan Gray told me.
Though it’s not clear precisely why the Build More Housing Near Transit Act was a victim of compromise in the Senate bill, the House is reportedly rankled by liberties the upper chamber seemed to take with its version of the legislation. But despite voicing some drawbacks and reservations, advocates say the bill largely gets housing right. “There’s been a lot of good work put into this bill by countless people, and we continue to fight to ensure that this bill gets across the finish line,” Kingsella told me.
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At San Francisco Climate Week, John Reynolds discussed how the state is juggling wildfire prevention, climate goals, and more.
Blessed with ample sun and wind for renewables but bedeviled by high electricity prices and natural disasters, California encapsulates the promise and peril of the United States’ energy transition.
So it was fitting that Heatmap House, a day of conversations and roundtables with leading policymakers, executives, and investors at San Francisco Climate Week, kicked off with John Reynolds, president of the California Public Utilities Commission. Robinson Meyer called him,
The CPUC oversees the most-populous state’s utilities and has the power to approve or veto electricity and natural gas rate increases. At Heatmap House, Reynolds — “one of California’'s most important climate policymakers,” as Heatmap’s Robinson Meyer called him — affirmed that affordability has been top of mind as power bills have risen to become a mainstream political issue across the country. California’s electricity prices are the second-highest in the nation, behind only Hawaii, according to the Electricity Price Hub.
“I’d really like to see us drive down the portion of household income that is consumed by energy prices,” Reynolds said in a one-on-one interview with Rob. “That’s a really important metric for making sure that we’re doing our job to deliver a system that’s efficient at meeting customer needs and is able to support the growth of our economy.”
The Golden State’s power premium has been exacerbated by the fallout from multiple wildfires that have devastated various parts of the state in recent years, which have necessitated costly grid upgrades such as undergrounding power lines. California-based utility PG&E has also invested in more futuristic fire solutions such as “vegetation management robots, power pole sensors, advanced fire detection cameras, and autonomous drones, with much of this enhanced by an artificial intelligence-powered analytics platforms,” as Heatmap’s Katie Brigham wrote shortly after last year’s fires in Los Angeles.
Affordability affects not just Californians’ financial wellbeing, but also the state’s ability to decarbonize quickly. “The affordability challenge that we’re seeing in electric and gas service is one that is going to make it more difficult to meet our climate goals as a state,” Reynolds said.
One contentious — and somewhat byzantine — aspect of California’s energy transition is how much of a financial incentive the CPUC should offer for residents to install rooftop solar. Net metering is a billing system that rewards households with solar panels for sending excess generation back to the grid. Three years ago, the CPUC adopted a new standard that substantially lowered the rate at which solar panel users were compensated.
“We had to slow the bleeding,” Reynolds said, referring to the greater financial burden paid by utility customers without solar panels. “The net billing tariff did slow the bleeding, but it didn’t stop it.”
Asked whether he is focused more on electricity rates (the amount a customer pays per kilowatt-hour) or bills (the amount a utility charges a ratepayer), Reynolds said both are important.
“If we can drive down electric rates, we’re going to enable more electrification of transportation and of buildings,” Reynolds said. “It’s really important to look at bills, because that is fundamentally what hits households. People’s wallets are limited by their bills, not by their rates.”
The state has terminated an agreement to develop substations and other necessary grid infrastructure to serve the now-canceled developments.
Crucial transmission for future offshore wind energy in New Jersey is scrapped for now.
The New Jersey Board of Public Utilities on Wednesday canceled the agreement it reached with PJM Interconnection in 2021 to develop wires and substations necessary to send electricity generated by offshore wind across the state. The board terminated this agreement because much of New Jersey’s expected offshore wind capacity has either been canceled by developers or indefinitely stalled by President Donald Trump, including the now-scrapped TotalEnergies projects scrubbed in a settlement with his administration.
“New Jersey is now facing a situation in which there will be no identified, large-scale in-state generation projects under active development that can make use of [the agreement] on the timeline the state and PJM initially envisioned,” the board wrote in a letter to PJM requesting termination of the agreement.
Wind energy backers are not taking this lying down. “We cannot fault the Sherrill Administration for making this decision today, but this must only be a temporary setback,” Robert Freudenberg of the New Jersey and New York-focused environmental advocacy group Regional Plan Association, said in a statement released after the agreement was canceled.
I chronicled the fight over this specific transmission infrastructure before Trump 2.0 entered office and the White House went nuclear on offshore wind. Known as the Larrabee Pre-Built Infrastructure, the proposed BPU-backed network of lines and electrical equipment resulted from years of environmental and sociological study. It was intended to connect wind projects in the Atlantic Ocean to key points on the overall grid onshore.
Activists opposed to putting turbines in the ocean saw stopping the wires as a strategy for delaying the overall construction timelines for offshore wind, intensifying both the costs and permitting headaches for all state and development stakeholders involved. Some of those fighting the wires did so based on fears that electromagnetic radiation from the transmission lines would make them sick.
The only question mark remaining is whether this means the state will try to still proceed with building any of the transmission given rising electricity demand and if these plans may be revisited at a later date. The board’s letter to PJM nods to the future, asserting that new “alternative pathways to coordinated transmission” exist because of new guidance from the Federal Energy Regulatory Commission. These pathways “may serve” future offshore wind projects should they be pursued, stated the letter.
Of course, anything related to offshore wind will still be conditional on the White House.
This year’s ocean-heating phenomenon could make climate change seem less bad than it really is — at least in the U.S.
You may have heard that we could be in for a “super” or even a “super duper” El Niño this year. The difference is non-technical, a matter of how warm the sea surface temperature in the El Niño-Southern Oscillation region of the central-eastern Pacific Ocean gets. An El Niño forms when the region is at least half a degree Celsius warmer than average, which causes more heat to be released into the atmosphere and affects global weather patterns. A super El Niño describes an anomaly of 2 degrees or higher. Some models predict an anomaly of over 3 degrees higher than average for this year.
If a super El Niño forms — and that is still a big if, about a one-in-four chance — it would be the fourth such event in just over 40 years. But the impacts could be even more severe, simply because the world is hotter today than it was in the previous super El Niño years of 1983, 1998, and 2016.
“2016 would be an unusually cold year if it occurred today,” Zeke Hausfather, the climate research lead for payment processing giant Stripe and a research scientist at Berkeley Earth, told me. “1998 would be exceptionally cold.”
And yet in a strange twist, a 2026-2027 El Niño event might actually make Americans care less about climate change. Though many parts of the world are likely to get clobbered by El Niño’s characteristic combination of hotter, drier weather, the phenomenon has the potential to alleviate some of the extreme weather we’ve seen recently in the United States.
For example, warmer, wetter conditions in the southern U.S., milder winters in the north, and increased wind shear in the Atlantic hurricane basin are all classic El Niño signatures in North America.
“It may actually mean a better snow season for the Western U.S. and the mountains, hopefully recovering our snowpack if it’s not too warm,” Hausfather said. “We might benefit from higher rainfall” next winter, which could help lift widespread drought conditions in the southwest. High wind shear usually results in reduced hurricane activity in the Atlantic by depriving the storm systems of their heat engines and causing them to be too lopsided to organize into a full-blown cyclone.
Though the body of evidence for climate change remains incontrovertible, the temporary reprieve in some of its more visible effects will almost certainly make some Americans less concerned. Blame it on evolutionary biology. Brett Pelham, a social psychologist at Montgomery College who researches egocentrism and biases, told me that humans are hardwired to pay attention to the conditions happening directly around them. “That’s great if you’re living 20,000 or 80,000 years ago,” he said. “But today, we’re pumping tons of greenhouse gases into the atmosphere, and it’s a recipe for disaster because people only care deeply about that problem if they feel the heat on a pretty chronic basis where they live.”
People are generally less likely to believe the planet is warming on a snowy day in March than they are in the summer, and a lower average state temperature is about as reliable a predictor of climate change skepticism as being a Republican, even when controlling for income, party affiliation, education, and age. Given that it is, in theory, easier to convince someone living in scorching hot Phoenix that greenhouse gases are warming the atmosphere than someone living by a lake in Minnesota, if an El Niño mellows out some extreme weather trends in the U.S. this year and next, it could also mellow some of the sense of urgency to act.
“It’s a definite implication of my work that day-to-day variation, monthly variation, and geographical variation matter,” Pelham said.
“If my data are true,” he added, “it’s going to be true on average that in places that have an unseasonably cool summer or winter, there’s going to be a temporary shift in the average attitude.”
Such shifts affect the average by just a few points either way — “they’re not night and day, like ‘I believed in climate change and now I don’t,’” Pelham stressed. But it’s undoubtedly ironic — and concerning — that heading into what could be one of the hottest years on the planet in recent history, Americans may be predisposed to feeling relatively safe.
Other parts of the world won’t have such luxury. Even a normal-strength El Niño, which looks all but certain to form this year, could cause major damage, from wildfires in parched Indonesia to catastrophic floods in East Africa to water rationing in South America. In Peru and Ecuador, El Niño is already a “current event,” Ángel F. Adames Corraliza, an atmospheric researcher at the University of Wisconsin-Madison and a 2025 MacArthur Fellow, told me. Warm coastal conditions off the continent — a known, albeit not guaranteed, global El Niño precursor — are causing deluges, landslides, and heat waves in the upper northwest corner of South America. “You can see how the impacts start extending towards other parts of the world until it reaches us,” he said.
It is possible to combat local biases. Pelham told me other researchers have found that images can break through our egocentrism. So “if we see more pictures of melting glaciers or waters rising in our own backyards, we would start to say, ‘Oh my goodness, we really have to do something about this global problem,” he said.
But to that end, coverage of climate change that might have this effect is becoming rarer. Stories about global warming have dropped about 38% since 2021; even people working in climate-related industries have “a kind of exhaustion with ‘climate’ as the right frame through which to understand the fractious mixture of electrification, pollution reduction, clean energy development, and other goals that people who care about climate change actually pursue,” my colleague Robinson Meyer wrote based on the results of latest Heatmap Insiders Survey.
Of course, there is no promise that the U.S. will skirt disaster because of El Niño. Increased rainfall means more floods and landslides; if the El Niño pushes temperatures up too high, snowpack will once again be an issue next winter. All it takes is one big hurricane forming and making landfall for it to be considered a bad storm year, which is as much a roll of the dice as anything else. And because El Niño releases ocean heat into the atmosphere, the periods immediately following it are often about two-tenths of a degree Celsius warmer, increasing the severity of heat waves and droughts. Compounded by climate change, that puts 2027 on track to be potentially the hottest year the planet has seen in human history.
“We might be at 1.45 degrees Celsius [above preindustrial levels] next year from human activity, and we might end up at 1.65 degrees because there’s a very strong El Niño,” Hausfather said. But for context, “we are seeing that much warmth added to the climate system from human activity roughly every decade,” he told me. That is, “— we’re adding a permanent super El Niño-worth of heat to the climate system” via the continued burning of fossil fuels.
There couldn’t be a worse time to let up on our collective sense of climate urgency, to put it mildly. But if El Niño makes conditions in the U.S. appear any better, then even if there’s disaster elsewhere, “you’re going to give a sigh of relief,” Pelham predicted. “You’re going to feel like [climate change is] not as bad as people have hyped it up to be.”