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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 But in April, the GOP-led House passed a bill that would’ve repealed some of those provisions — stuff like tax credits for new and used electric vehicles, along with incentives for building solar panels and other clean energy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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I’m writing from Washington, D.C., today, after having the privilege of watching (and moderating) Heatmap’s second Energy Entrepreneurship Summit this morning. We heard from folks leading in a variety of technologies — geothermal, batteries, fusion, conventional nuclear — but I was struck by a few common themes.
The first was the new wave of excitement about fusion energy and how, in some ways, the artificial intelligence boom has reinvigorated the fusion conversation. Much like fusion, AI was a long-prophesied technology that made steady, iterative improvements over time — and then, one day, delivered a transformative product in the form of ChatGPT. I’m not sure if fusion has yet had a raw technological improvement on par with the transformer, the neural network innovation that preceded today’s AI chatbots and agents, but fusion startups have reported significant improvements in recent years. The industry believes — as do some fusion-pilled policymakers — that they will have commercial reactors on the grid by the mid-2030s.
The second is the degree to which surging electricity demand is pushing forward clean energy across the board. Although many (but not all) hyperscalers prefer to buy clean energy, the raw demand for power is fueling confidence among energy developers and technologists of all stripes. It’s great to make a commodity whose price is rising. At some point, this link between AI and electricity may become turbulent for developers — but we’re not there yet.
The final note is the degree to which U.S.-China competition now dominates conversations around the energy industry and the economy more broadly. I can remember a time when it was somewhat peculiar to point out that some forms of energy prowess strengthened the country’s national security — and that if the U.S. did not work those muscles, then China would. There was little overlap between the clean energy and security conversations. Now, the rise of globally competitive Chinese “electrotech” firms such as BYD, Xiaomi, and CATL has almost united the two discourses.
There is a growing recognition, too, that America will have to reindustrialize to compete. Policymakers sometimes talk about how the U.S. should use its (for now) still strong R&D apparatus to develop “leapfrog” technologies that can surpass Chinese products. But as America has by now repeatedly discovered, simply inventing a new technology is not enough. Creating an export industry — not to mention a business — actually requires commercializing that technology and scaling it. And that will entail the rudiments of an advanced industrial economy: more hardware factories, a larger grid, more manufacturing and process engineers.
These concerns over basic competitiveness colored discussions of even the most advanced technologies. Jackie Siebens, a vice president at the fusion startup Helion, said she was worried that fusion is going to “follow a story we’ve seen before,” where the United States demonstrates fusion first, “but China scales much more broadly.” Representative Don Beyer, a Democrat from Virginia who champions fusion, brought up a more fundamental concern: China is graduating hundreds of nuclear PhD engineers every year, he said, while America is only graduating a few dozen.
If affordability makes up one half of our new energy era, then these questions around competitiveness might be the other half. We’ll explore them, I’m sure, in the future. For now, thanks, as always, for reading.
Our latest Heatmap Pro poll found one big reason why public support for data centers has plummeted.
Americans’ support for data centers cratered over the past nine months. Rising electricity prices are a big part of the reason.
A Heatmap Pro poll conducted in May found that seven in 10 Americans would oppose a data center being built near where they live, up from four in 10 when we asked the same question in August 2025. We also polled people on mounting electricity costs, providing them with about a dozen potential explanations for the surge in prices and asking whether they blame each one “a lot,” “a little,” or “not at all.”
Here, too, the shift in sentiment was definitive. More than half of respondents blamed the construction of new data centers “a lot,” up from just 28% in August, making it the top concern on the list. In the earlier poll, “more demand for electricity overall” — a related issue — received the most blame, while construction of new data centers specifically sat near the bottom of the list.
Whether data centers deserve all this blame is complicated. Electricity prices were already rising before the race to power artificial intelligence began in earnest. According to Heatmap and MIT’s Electricity Price Hub, the national average price rose 21% from November 2020 to November 2022, when ChatGPT was first released to the public. Utilities have been raising rates to cover the cost of maintaining and upgrading the aging power grid, but the drivers are also region-specific. In the West, rates are rising because of wildfire insurance and mitigation efforts such as burying powerlines. (Interestingly, Americans blamed rising costs less on extreme weather, such as wildfires and heat waves, in our latest poll than they did last summer.)
As for what Americans think is driving those costs, our polling results were fairly consistent across regions. Construction of new data centers topped the list everywhere except in the West, where “the oil and gas industry” received one percentage point more blame, while the oil and gas industry came in a close second in the Midwest and Northeast. In the South, the war in Iran ranked second in respondents’ minds. We did, however, see a divide between urban and rural respondents, with slightly more urban residents who considered “the Trump administration and Republicans,” “the oil and gas industry,” and “the war in Iran” to be the major drivers of power prices than data centers.
Though data centers are not the only culprit, they have contributed to higher prices in a few areas, most notably in the PJM electricity market. Market experts warn that this trend will become widespread as the buildout progresses unless lawmakers and regulators make changes to protect residential customers.
“The projected growth in data center demand is beyond anything (short of wartime industries) ever asked of the American power sector,” Travis Kavulla, the head of policy at Base Power Company, wrote in a recent essay for American Affairs. That requires a new market structure, he argued at a Heatmap News event on Wednesday. Rather than the first-come-first served interconnection queue, he advocated for an “open season” model. “It’s a process whereby the incremental cost of building out the grid is mechanically assigned to the incremental load growth,” he explained, “whereas otherwise it might be socialized broadly across consumers — and in a time of increasing inflationary prices, that would lead to a lot of cross-subsidization. It’s both a speed to power thing and a customer affordability thing.”
As my colleague Jael Holzman has reported, state leaders have generally been more inclined to explore regulatory fixes to the problem of rising electricity prices than to enact moratoria on new data center construction, the preferred path for many grassroots activists who oppose data centers. States such as Oregon and Vermont have already passed rules that aim to protect ratepayers from data center expansion, and many more states have introduced bills to do the same.
“The public isn’t opposed to data centers, they’re opposed to paying for them on their power bill,” Sarah Hunt, the president and CEO of the right-leaning Rainey Center, told Jael in a separate story about how data centers are splintering the Republican Party. The Rainey Center’s own polling found that telling voters about policies such as President Trump’s Ratepayer Protection Pledge, a voluntary pact signed by big tech companies that agree to pay the full cost of connecting data centers to the grid, made them more likely overall to support AI data centers.
Heatmap’s polling found that blame toward data centers is escalating at about the same rate among all political parties, roughly doubling across the board. Among Republicans, 40% of those who identify as MAGA blamed data centers “a lot,” while 45% of those who identify as non-MAGA did. Democrats were generally more fervent, with 62% assigning major responsibility to data centers.
One other consistent feature in our polling is that both opposition to and blame for data centers is strongest among young people aged 18-34. Blame for data centers declined as respondents got older, with 67% of the youngest cohort pointing the finger most strongly at data centers compared to 44% of those over 65. (Aging Americans’ primary culprit for higher prices? An aging electrical grid.)
The Heatmap Pro poll of 4,118 American registered voters was conducted by Embold Research via text-to-web responses from May 15 to 28, 2026. The survey included interviews with Americans in all 50 states and Washington, D.C. The margin of sampling error is plus or minus 1.6 percentage points.
It’s already been an historic year for wildfires. Even if your community doesn’t burn, you might still be in for hazy air.
The nation will mark an unhappy anniversary next week: the worst day for wildfire pollution exposure in U.S. history. On June 7, 2023, the skies over the Acela Corridor turned a sickly mustard yellow due to smoke pouring south from fires in northern Quebec; New York City recorded its unhealthiest ever score on the Air Quality Index at 484, more than 300 points above what’s considered healthy. In the years since, we’ve come to better understand the dangers of such “smoke events.” A study published earlier this year by researchers at UCLA was the first to estimate deaths specifically from long-term exposure to wildfire smoke, finding that it kills more than 24,000 people in the U.S. every year — more people than murderers.
The 2026 wildfire season is already one for the books. Fires had burned 2.4 million acres in the U.S. as of Monday, nearly double the 10-year average for the start of June. And the months ahead don’t look good — about 17% of the country is already in extreme drought, and an all-but-certain El Niño will bring warmer, drier conditions to the already volatile Northwest and suppress or delay monsoon precipitation elsewhere.
Where the smoke from any of the resulting fires actually goes is far less predictable, however, subject to impossible-to-forecast factors such as when there are human-caused ignitions, how big the fire is, what the winds are doing on a given day or even hour, and how much moisture is in the air, among other micro-factors. What’s actually burning makes a difference, too: trees, logs, and dense forest floor litter, called duff, have more mass than the flash-burning grasses of the Plains, meaning forest fires produce more soot and ash for distribution. “Literally, that is where the heavy emissions come from to get lofted with the intensity of a ground fire,” Pete Lahm, the branch chief for smoke at the U.S. Forest Service and the leader of the Interagency Wildlife Fire Air Quality Response Program, told me.
The current Fort Smith fire in the boreal forest of Canada is an example of how difficult it is to predict smoke exposure. Although northern Canada had a good snow year — which should in theory suppress major fires up there — there was a small pocket of dryness around Wood Buffalo National Park that ignited, ballooned into an almost 40,000-acre fire, and sent high-altitude smoke as far south as Chicago last week. Or take those wildfires in Quebec in 2023, which sent particulate matter as far south as Florida.
“The smoke went out to sea and came back in,” Lahm said of that event. “Who would have thought about that?”
As Will Barrett, the assistant vice president for nationwide clean air policy at the American Lung Association, told me, “No part of the country is immune from the impacts of climate change and the threat of increased pollution.” It’s always best to check your local air quality (which reflects a lot more than just wildfire particulates) and the national fire and smoke map when in doubt.
Much has already been said by now about the lack of snow in the Western U.S. “This year’s peak snowpack will be the new benchmark low for Wyoming, Utah, Colorado, and New Mexico,” reads the latest National Integrated Drought Information System report from the middle of May. “There are no comparable years.” Idaho, too, has “no historical comparison” for its lack of snow. In the Cascade Mountains and northern Sierras, where some of the country’s worst wildfires have historically occurred, many drought monitoring stations are likewise recording only trace amounts of snow.
Normally, melting snow helps stave off wildfire ignitions through the spring and early summer. When the snow melts too early — or isn’t there in the first place — the potential for explosive wildfires creeps higher much sooner. Forests also just have a lot of stuff — large trees, brushy undergrowth, forest floor leaf litter, homes and cars — which generates a lot of soot and ash.
In the southern half of Nevada and Utah, fuels are already “near or exceeding record dry levels,” per the latest National Significant Wildland Fire Potential Outlook, updated on Monday. What’s more, “Some of the fires are burning in the heavier fuels and timber of higher elevations, which is very unusual for late May” — and causes more smoke than grasses or chaparral.
The report also shows that above-average significant wildfire potential will consume almost the entire northwest corner of the U.S. — all of Washington, Oregon, Idaho, and southwest Montana — by August, and continue into September. The conditions resemble those of 2015, which turned out to be one of the worst fire seasons in Pacific Northwest history, the agency said. Everyone in the region is at risk from local wildfire smoke, regardless of what drifts in from other places.
“If California were to get active, Idaho and parts of Oregon can get slammed with that smoke,” Lahm told me. “Occasionally, with fires in the mid-Sierras, you’ll start to see impacts in Salt Lake City.” That’s especially true when there is above-normal plant growth in the Sacramento Valley and Sierra foothills, as there is this year. (“One sampling site in the Sierra Foothills,” the interagency report found, “recorded the second highest amount of growth in the 43-year period of record.”)
Lahm added a note of potential optimism to the smoke forecast in the West, pointing out that California is not in a severe drought at the moment. Southern California, home of the costliest fire in U.S. history last year, could be spared almost entirely thanks to the expected El Niño-induced above-average rainfall. “Maybe we won’t get the smoke from California this year,” Lahm allowed, before adding, “but California can get drier.”
The fire season is already well underway in the Southwest, with the airplane-crash-ignited Seven Cabins Fire in New Mexico the biggest active wildfire in the U.S. at 29,000 acres. Local air quality impacts are significant enough that the Forest Service already has air resource advisors involved, but Lahm told me long-range smoke impacts aren’t expected.
The southern and southeastern U.S. can sometimes feel repercussions from fires burning on the West Coast, though. “If we have a good Pacific Rim season, while really volume driven, there have actually been impacts in Louisiana, occasionally,” Lahm said.
Spring fires in Georgia and Florida have burned down into the duff, or “gone underground,” and could reemerge again in the coming months. Late May’s rainstorms could theoretically help curb fires in the Southeast, at least through the early summer. But forecasts show conditions drying out by late summer — El Niño increases wind shear, interrupting hurricane formation in the Atlantic basin and suppressing the tropical storms that normally keep the region wet through the hottest months of the year. Downed trees and brush from Hurricane Helene in 2024 remain an ongoing fire hazard, especially if they dry out.
The smoke in the Midwest isn’t usually of the homegrown variety, but being downwind of Canada and the western U.S. has made it no stranger to haze and red sunsets. According to the American Lung Association’s 2026 State of the Air report, which looks at the period from 2022-2024, “most of the Midwest” was “seriously impacted by high levels of ozone,” in part due to the “ozone-forming pollutants” generated when wildfire smoke interacts with urban air.
The snow conditions in Canada this year thankfully haven’t followed the pattern in the western U.S., and if things stay relatively wet up north, then it’s less likely the Midwest will experience the boreal wildfire smoke it may otherwise have grown accustomed to. But “say that smoke that came down from the [Fort Smith] fire decided to hit the ground in Chicago” last week, Lahm speculated to me. “It certainly would have probably contributed to [air quality] numbers above the standard, and if you’re sensitive and you’re not ready, then it’s a big deal.”
Because poor air quality often stems from fires burning in other places — which thus are often not top of mind — watching local air quality reports is especially important in the Midwest. No, the Fort Smith smoke didn’t hit Chicago last week, but it could have. More than any other region, the Midwest is a wildcard for smoke impacts.
Like the Midwest, the Northeast is often the victim of smoke from faraway fires. In 2025, for example, there were what Lahm described as “light impacts” in New York and Washington, D.C., from fires in Quebec, Ontario, and the Western U.S. “because of the volume of fire material being burned.” So far, though, the National Significant Wildland Fire Potential Outlook shows normal fire potential for the Mid-Atlantic region through September with “brief periods of elevated fire danger during windy days that follow dry periods.”
But as I’ve written before, the fire conditions in the East are also changing. The region has seen a 10-fold jump in the frequency of large burns over the past four decades. In fact, almost nowhere better represents the ability of local fires to cause unpredictable regional impacts than the East, where a likely human-caused fire in Brooklyn’s Prospect Park in 2024 sent particulate matter into surrounding neighborhoods.
If smoke defies long-range forecasts, then, the best method is to expect it and be pleasantly surprised if it doesn’t arrive. For most people, that means shaking off any leftover baggage you have around mask-wearing from the COVID-era and keeping a few N95s in the glove box. It also means knowing you’re at risk in the first place. Children under 18, adults over 65, and anyone who is pregnant or has a pre-existing respiratory or heart condition should be especially attuned to their local air quality. For those groups, having extra inhalers on hand or postponing a run could save a life.
“There are not a lot of places in the U.S. where being ready for some degree of smoke exposure, if you’re at risk, doesn’t make sense,” Lahm said. “It’s just good preparation. We keep a flashlight for when the lights go out in our homes — we need to look at smoke the same way.”