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The drafters of the IRA seem to have hit on the same strategy that has made America’s defense budget so impervious to cuts: Pork.

Here is a good rule for politicians: Bringing home the bacon is a good thing.
Taking a pass on government-funded projects that bring millions or billions of dollars to your district, along with great new jobs for your constituents? That’s not so good.
Those two related truisms might explain why the climate-friendly provisions of last year’s Inflation Reduction Act seem to have largely escaped grievous cuts in the debt ceiling deal announced Saturday night by President Joe Biden and House Speaker Kevin McCarthy.
While nothing is over until it’s over — and some of McCarthy’s fellow conservatives are blanching at the deal he made — there is reason to believe good old-fashioned pork-barrel spending might have saved the Biden administration’s clean energy agenda from a terrible wound.
But it was a close thing.
Republicans have definitely had their eye on the IRA during the debt ceiling fight. The law included some $369 billion in spending on climate and renewable energy policies. But in April, the GOP-led House passed a bill that would’ve repealed some of those provisions — stuff like tax credits for new and used electric vehicles, along with incentives for building solar panels and other clean energy infrastructure projects.
Those cuts didn’t survive negotiations. "House Republicans had fought for repealing some of the clean energy tax credits approved by Democrats last year, as well as stopping the White House’s plan to cancel student loan debt,” The Washington Post reports. “The Biden administration objected strongly to those proposals, and they fell out of the final deal."
So what happened?
A guess: Yes, Republicans like to grumble about “climate alarmism,” rail against private-sector “environmental, social and governance,” and generally make a bogeyman of the Green New Deal. But they are undeniably benefiting in a big way from the IRA’s climate and energy investments in their own districts.
And nobody likes to kill the goose that lays the golden eggs.
As Politico pointed out in January, Republican members of Congress are among the IRA’s big political winners: Two-thirds of the clean energy projects announced since the law passed — things like battery and electric vehicle plants — have been located in GOP districts.
Which was kind of funny, because every House Republican voted against the law.
“Just because you vote against a bill doesn’t mean the entire bill is a bad bill,” explained Rep. Garret Graves, a Louisiana Republican.
Maybe. It’s pretty easy — and fairly common — for members of Congress to vote against a bill, see it pass, only to pivot and take credit for the goodies that suddenly appear. “Voting no and taking the dough” has a long, rich history in American politics. Most voters never notice the hypocrisy.
They do notice, though, when the goodies go away.
Like, say, when that promised battery plant that was going to bring hundreds of new jobs to town suddenly doesn’t pan out.
That was the situation Republicans found themselves in heading into negotiations over the debt ceiling. It’s one thing to rail against “government spending” in the abstract — and another thing entirely to oppose specific spending that your own voters are already enjoying or counting on.
House Republicans “are ready to kill new, good paying jobs coming to their own districts to play politics,” the advocacy group Climate Power lamented last month.
McCarthy, it seems, didn’t want to deal with the grief — or the campaign ads that were surely coming against the more vulnerable members of his caucus. Who could blame him?
All of this means that the sheer ambition and size of the Inflation Reduction Act, while still falling short of what the world needs to avert a climate emergency, probably saved it from the GOP’s chopping block. We’ve come a long way from the days when then-President Obama touted the economic value of green jobs — and then gave the nation small-bore “weatherization” projects that were arguably successful but also pretty easy not to notice if you looked around your own community.
The “battery belt” taking shape across the southeastern U.S., on the other hand, is pretty hard to miss. It is also represented by a lot of congressional Republicans.
This has implications for future climate fights. The drafters of the IRA seem to have hit on the same strategy that has made America’s defense budget so impervious to cuts: They’ve spread the wealth.
Few politicians want to look unpatriotic by voting against military spending, of course, but it doesn’t hurt that the defense industry — all those contractors and subcontractors, countless companies and workers — is spread out across every state and congressional district. Vote for defense cuts and you’re voting against your constituents’ jobs.
Now the same may be true of the green energy industry. Republicans don’t have to believe in climate change, and they can argue for fiscal austerity all they want. The debt ceiling deal, though, suggests that conservative members of Congress have one priority even higher than those ideals: Their own hides. The climate may benefit.
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The spinoff of Lawrence Livermore National Lab has a new 10-point plan to get onto the grid by the 2030s.
One of fusion energy’s newest startups, Inertia Enterprises, is betting that the fastest route to commercial fusion runs through one of the field’s oldest ideas. The company, which raised a $450 million Series A earlier this year, plans to build a power plant based on the laser-driven fusion system pioneered at Lawrence Livermore National Laboratory’s — the only tech yet to have produced more energy from a fusion reaction than it took to initiate it. Now, Inertia has shared its commercialization roadmap exclusively with Heatmap, detailing the 10 near-term capabilities it must demonstrate before this landmark experiment can become a grid-scale power plant by the mid-2030s.
The roadmap offers a route from the national lab’s impressive but commercially impractical fusion demonstrations to an economical power plant capable of producing electricity for the grid. At its core are a set of milestones — mostly aimed at developing cheap, mass-manufacturable components — that Inertia says it must clear before those individual systems can be integrated into a working plant. This road is not necessarily linear, however, as various teams will likely be working on many of these goals simultaneously.
At least the physics of Inertia’s approach are already proven, the startup’s CEO Jeff Lawson told me, pointing to the fusion experiments at Lawrence Livermore’s National Ignition Facility as a proof-of-concept. The lab’s demonstration of net energy gain caps more than six decades and $30 billion (in 2026 dollars) of U.S. fusion research. The remaining challenges, he argued, are all engineering-related, requiring “elbow grease, hard work, and smart people” rather than breakthroughs in fusion science.
"It seems to us like a startup or a commercial company of any variety should be focused on commercializing a proven scientific result, as opposed to actually trying to demonstrate the basic science to begin with," Lawson told me. Basic science, he argues, is better left to national labs and universities, where researchers can pursue "unbounded problems" that don’t align with the expectations and timelines of venture-backed startups.
Indeed, no fusion startup has yet achieved scientific breakeven, the milestone Lawrence Livermore first hit in 2022, and has since repeated numerous times. But leading players such as Commonwealth Fusion Systems and Helion Energy maintain that it’s only a matter of time before they validate the physics behind their own reactor designs, which they claim will be highly cost-competitive.
Lawson, on the other hand, readily acknowledged that Lawrence Livermore’s tech is uneconomical in its current form. His bet is simply that the more predictable path to a commercial reactor is to drive down the cost of the lab’s validated fusion approach, known as inertial confinement. This system relies on high-powered lasers firing at a millimeter-scale pellet of fusion fuel, compressing it to extreme temperatures and pressures until the atoms fuse. Today, the National Ignition Facility makes each individual fusion target by hand, a workable solution given that it only uses about a dozen per year.
That production model, however, isn’t remotely plausible for a grid-scale power plant. Because each fusion reaction lasts just a fraction of a billionth of a second, a commercial facility must fire its lasers at a fresh target about 10 times per second to generate continuous electricity — requiring the production of hundreds of millions of targets each year.
Scaling production to roughly a million pellets per day and making them inexpensive enough for commercial operation without compromising the strength or precision required for fusion ignition is central to Inertia’s roadmap. That includes goals five, seven, eight and nine — industrializing the manufacturing of the carbon shells that hold the fusion fuel, making the thin films that hold those carbon shells both durable and cheap, scaling up and automating fusion target assembly, and speeding up how fast targets are filled with the requisite deuterium-tritium fuel.
The other central focus of the roadmap is the laser system, which will ultimately consist of 1,000 individual units operating in concert to compress and heat the fusion fuel. Key priorities include reducing the system’s cost (goal two), dramatically increasing its firing cadence (goal three), and bolstering its durability to withstand high-intensity operations (goal four). Goal six also complements these efforts, calling for the development of a control system capable of tracking moving fusion targets to precisely align each laser shot.
Goals one and 10 bookend the journey with some broader milestones. The first focuses on increasing the fusion target’s energy gain — the ratio of fusion energy produced to laser energy delivered — to more than 25 times ignition. Today, the National Ignition Facility’s best-performing laser shot has yielded a gain of just over four times what it took to start the reaction. Goal 10 then zooms out to the ultimate objective: integrating all these technologies into a commercially viable power plant that can deliver either electricity or industrial heat to end customers.
To reach that point, Inertia has embarked on an industrial engineering hiring spree, recruiting folks with experience taking complex hardware systems from prototype to mass production, “not unlike the processes that are used in the semiconductor or consumer electronics world,” Lawson explained. The company has been making progress on its component development goals since the beginning of the year, he told me, and expects to announce the successful demonstration of a few of these milestones in the coming months. Lawson ultimately expects Inertia to complete the core components of its laser and target manufacturing systems by the middle of next year.
The team will spend the next two to three years integrating these individual pieces into two fully operational subsystems, a prototype laser system and a target manufacturing line. Around 2030, the company will begin combining those subsystems into a first-of-a-kind fusion power plant, which will also serve as the proving ground for the target chamber, tritium fuel breeding system, and power conversion system that turns fusion heat into electricity. By the middle of the next decade, Inertia aims to be generating power from this first plant, setting the stage for the company to build and connect additional grid-scale commercial power plants.
There are plenty of engineering trade-offs that the company will have to solve for. Take the decision around how to size the target chamber, for example. “If you make it bigger, your walls have an easier time and survive longer, but it’s more expensive. If you make it smaller, your walls have a tougher time because they’re closer to all the heat and energy that the fusion reaction is creating, but now your power plant costs less to build.”
But to Lawson, this represents exactly the type of problem Inertia was built to solve: complex engineering issues that come to the fore once scientists have demonstrated the fundamental physics are sound. He thinks other fusion companies may someday reach this stage, as well — though he’s unwilling to hazard a guess on exactly what approach or startup is best positioned to do so.
“There have been generations of scientists who’ve made their predictions about fusion energy and gotten it wrong,” he told me. “I’m not going to pretend to be smarter than them. All I’m here to say is, just knowing that one did work, we can commercialize it.”