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It’s not the pipeline. It’s the power lines.

At first glance, the bipartisan deal to raise the debt ceiling seems pretty good for the climate.
Most importantly, it preserves the Inflation Reduction Act, President Joe Biden’s flagship climate law. That alone is a monumental victory, cementing Biden’s legacy (for now) and allowing his administration to continue its experiment with green industrial policy.
When climate advocates have spoken against the deal, they’ve focused their ire on the Mountain Valley Pipeline, a 304-mile conduit that will link West Virginia’s booming natural-gas fields to the rest of the country. The deal essentially approves the pipeline and exempts it from judicial oversight, all but ensuring its eventual completion. Senator Joe Manchin, a West Virginia Democrat, won the White House’s support for the pipeline when he agreed to the IRA last year.
Yet despite the chatter, the pipeline was not, in fact, the most important climate concession exacted in negotiations. The deal also made a number of changes to federal permitting law, especially the National Environmental Policy Act, or NEPA. These changes have been described as relatively small, common-sense reforms to the federal process — and in some cases they are. But they also represented critical leverage that Democrats just lost.
Democrats might have secured many other objectives in the debt-ceiling talks, including minimal cuts to some federal programs and a potential expansion of food stamps. But the deal’s permitting reforms are an uneven trade in which Democrats gave up much more than they gained and made virtually no progress on one of their biggest goals: making it easier to build long-distance power lines. When Congress revisits permitting reform in the next few months — as Speaker of the House Kevin McCarthy has promised – Democrats will find that they have little room to bargain.
The National Environmental Policy Act, or NEPA, requires that the federal government conduct an environmental study before it does much of anything. It also sets the rules by which the government decides whether to approve large-scale infrastructure. If a state wants to build a new highway with federal funds, it must apply to the government, which then runs a “NEPA process” to determine whether to grant funding. Virtually every major government project — whether a new mass-transit hub or an offshore wind farm — requires a NEPA study and a NEPA process.
Republicans have long wanted to tinker with NEPA. But while NEPA was once widely understood by progressives as a bedrock of federal environmental law, some on the left have recently become more open to reforming it. Fighting climate change will require building a lot of new infrastructure, they have argued, and NEPA could slow down that process. At the same time, virtually all Democrats want to simplify the process of building new long-distance power lines, which will lower electricity prices while ushering more renewables onto the grid. If America doesn’t double its rate of new transmission construction, then 80% of the IRA’s carbon reductions will be squandered, according to Jesse Jenkins, a Princeton engineering professor.
So a trade of sorts took shape: Democrats would open up NEPA, accomplishing a long-sought GOP goal, in exchange for easing the path for new power lines. When Senator Manchin proposed a permitting-reform bill last year, that’s essentially what it did.
The debt-ceiling deal inherits many of the NEPA reforms first contemplated in Manchin’s bill. Today, the strictest type of NEPA review takes 4.5 years to complete, although some studies can take much longer. The deal will impose a one-year deadline for most environmental-review studies and a two-year deadline for the strictest types. If an agency overruns these deadlines, then a project’s sponsor can sue the agency to get an accelerated decision.
The deal also imposes new page limits on NEPA studies. Today, the most stringent NEPA studies run to more than 500 pages on average. The deal would cap most NEPA studies to 150 pages, and the most complicated reviews to 300 pages.
To be sure, these reforms don’t go as far as the GOP wanted. Under one Republican proposal, for instance, the penalty for overrunning a NEPA deadline would have been a project’s immediate and irrevocable approval. But the deal also declines to provide more funding for NEPA agencies to hire staff, which some progressives have argued is the most important driver of NEPA delays.
The deal also narrows some of NEPA’s most important language, reducing the number of federal actions that require the most elaborate kind of environmental-impact study. An agency will now get to determine whether a project requires the highest level of NEPA review. That is “really problematic” because it could let officials do an end-run around the NEPA process, Kym Meyer, the litigation director at the Southern Environmental Law Center, told me.
Some of the deal’s most important consequences may not be visible in the legal text. The deal, for instance, says that projects qualifying for certain federal small-business loans do not need NEPA approval. That could effectively exempt many factory farms from the NEPA process, Meyer said.
The deal repeatedly inserts the words “reasonable” in NEPA, at one point limiting the types of environmental impacts that agencies must study only to those that are “reasonably foreseeable.” That may all sound, well, reasonable, and it could ultimately work out alright for environmentalists. But the courts — and the sharply conservative Supreme Court — will get to decide exactly where the lines of that reasonableness fall. “One thing we know for sure is that we’re gonna see a lot of litigation out of this,” Meyer said.
Which is not to say that Democrats failed to win concessions. Every NEPA study must now consider the environmental consequences of a project not happening — a new tool against NIMBYs who fight clean-energy projects. And energy-storage facilities, such as big batteries that store renewable electricity on the power grid, now qualify for an accelerated approval process.
The bill enacts a lot of what has been “circling around as a bipartisan set of permitting ideas for a couple of years now,” Xan Fishman, the director of energy policy at the Bipartisan Policy Center, a moderate think tank, told me. “It’s a lot of stuff that people on both sides of the aisle have called for, a lot of common-sense stuff. But there’s still a lot of stuff to do.”
The problem is that the bill makes all these changes without altering transmission policy at all. It funds a study on whether the United States should expand its long-distance transmission — ironic given that building new power lines already requires too many studies — but makes no substantive changes.
I’m sympathetic to the case for permitting reform, and I would describe the law’s changes to NEPA as aggressive but acceptable under the right circumstances. There’s some good stuff, some bad stuff, and much in between. But looking at the package in the context of this deal, I am more worried. By acceding to these changes, Democrats have surrendered their greatest leverage in future permitting-reform talks. Achieving transmission reform will now require much more profound changes to NEPA than many progressives may be willing to accept.
“They took care of the low-hanging fruit and there may not be a ladder high enough to get to the rest,” Rob Gramlich, a political consultant and one of the nation’s foremost transmission experts, told me.
That’s because Republicans want three major changes to federal environmental law, all of which could empower fossil fuels. First, lawmakers want to ease the way for international oil and natural-gas pipelines, limiting a president’s ability to block them under federal law. Second, Republicans want to revise the Clean Water Act so states can’t use it to block pipelines for climate-related reasons.
Finally, Republicans want to impose even stricter time limits on NEPA, adding a statute of limitations and a deadline for how long a NEPA-related lawsuit can drag on. This would require the biggest gamble of all: By time-delimiting NEPA fights, Democrats would keep NIMBYs from fighting clean-energy and mass-transit infrastructure, allowing a rapid low-carbon buildout. (As Ezra Klein has argued, NEPA hobbles the government’s power to build big public projects more than it limits private companies’.) But in doing so, Democrats would deprive environmental litigators of the time-sapping tactics that they use to slow down fossil-fuel projects.
Democrats, meanwhile, have more modest goals in any future permitting fight: They want long-distance power lines to be as easy to build as natural-gas pipelines. Right now, an interstate power line must win approval from dozens of state and local governments before it can be built, while a natural-gas pipeline only needs to be approved by a single federal agency. Democrats want to give that agency authority over transmission. Pending that, Democrats would require the grid in each region of the country to connect with its neighbors, guaranteeing a minimum amount of transmission capacity nationwide.
Suffice it to say that these are not equal goals. Republicans now want much deeper changes to NEPA than Democrats seek for transmission law. This is going to make any dealmaking much harder. It would have been a fair trade, once, to link transmission reforms to some of the permitting changes in the debt-ceiling deal. It would have been a savvy trade to package the deal’s modest reforms with some of the more aggressive proposals from each party, so as to make the ultimate “winner” of the negotiations more obscure. With those easy trades off the table, only hard choices remain.
So Democrats will soon have to make a much weightier gamble: Should they accept Republicans’ significant changes to NEPA in exchange for transmission reform?
That might feel like trading “a Taylor Swift ticket for a high-school baseball ticket,” Gramlich told me. If Democrats accept it, they will be making a world-historic bet: that decarbonization is all but assured, and that no amount of preferential treatment for pipelines or fossil fuels could change the market’s embrace of a low-carbon future. They might decide that weakening NEPA’s judicial reforms would enable a green buildout, not a gray one, allowing new IRA-subsidized infrastructure to flourish across the country. Or more darkly, they might decide that only a massive transmission mandate can secure the IRA’s carbon-reduction benefits, and that such a prize is worth a few new pipelines.
But I’ll be honest that I don’t see it happening. The party does not seem ready to make such a cosmic gamble on the future of the American energy system. Climate advocates couldn’t accept the Mountain Valley Pipeline by itself; how could they accept making it easier to build any pipeline going forward? A miracle could happen, of course, but for now, the hope of transmission reform seems dead.
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Microsoft dominated this year.
It’s been a quiet year for carbon dioxide removal, the nascent industry trying to lower the concentration of carbon already trapped in the atmosphere.
After a stretch as the hottest thing in climate tech, the CDR hype cycle has died down. 2025 saw fewer investments and fewer big projects or new companies announced.
This story isn’t immediately apparent if you look at the sales data for carbon removal credits, which paints 2025 as a year of breakout growth. CDR companies sold nearly 30 million tons of carbon removal, according to the leading industry database, CDR.fyi — more than three times the amount sold in 2024. But that topline number hides a more troubling reality — about 90% of those credits were bought by a single company: Microsoft.
If you exclude Microsoft, the total volume of carbon removal purchased this year actually declined by about 100,000 tons. This buyer concentration is the continuation of a trend CDR.fyi observed in its 2024 Year In Review report, although non-Microsoft sales had grown a bit that year compared to 2023.
Trump’s crusade against climate action has likely played a role in the market stasis of this year. Under the Biden administration, federal investment in carbon removal research, development, and deployment grew to new heights. Biden’s Securities and Exchange Commission was also getting ready to require large companies to disclose their greenhouse gas emissions and climate targets, a move that many expected to increase demand for carbon credits. But Trump’s SEC scrapped the rule, and his agency heads have canceled most of the planned investments. (At the time of publication, the two direct air capture projects that Biden’s Department of Energy selected to receive up to $1.2 billion have not yet had their contracts officially terminated, despite both showing up on a leaked list of DOE grant cancellations in October.)
Trump’s overall posture on climate change reduced pressure on companies to act, which probably contributed to there being fewer new buyers entering the carbon removal market, Robert Hoglund, a carbon removal advisor who co-founded CDR.fyi, told me. “I heard several companies say that, yeah, we wouldn't have been able to do this commitment this year. We're glad that we made it several years ago,” he told me.
Kyle Harrison, a carbon markets analyst at BloombergNEF, told me he didn’t view Microsoft’s dominance in the market as a bad sign. In the early days of corporate wind and solar energy contracts, he said, Microsoft, Google, and Amazon were the only ones signing deals, which raised similar questions about the sustainability of the market. “But what it did is it created a blueprint for how you sign these deals and make these nascent technologies more financeable, and then it brings down the cost, and then all of a sudden, you start to get a second generation of companies that start to sign these deals.”
Harrison expects the market to see slower growth in the coming years until either carbon removal companies are able to bring down costs or a more reliable regulatory signal puts pressure on buyers.
Governments in Europe and the United Kingdom introduced a few weak-ish signals this year. The European Union continued to advance a government certification program for carbon removal and expects to finalize methodologies for several CDR methods in 2026. That government stamp of approval may give potential buyers more confidence in the market.
The EU also announced plans to set up a carbon removal “buyers’ club” next year to spur more demand for CDR by pooling and coordinating procurement, although the proposal is light on detail. There were similar developments in the United Kingdom, which announced a new “contract for differences” policy through which the government would finance early-stage direct air capture and bioenergy with carbon capture projects.
A stronger signal, though, could eventually come from places with mandatory emissions cap and trade policies, such as California, Japan, China, the European Union, or the United Kingdom. California already allows companies to use carbon removal credits for compliance with its cap and invest program. The U.K. plans to begin integrating CDR into its scheme in 2029, and the EU and Japan are considering when and how to do the same.
Giana Amador, the executive director of the U.S.-based Carbon Removal Alliance, told me these demand pulls were extremely important. “It tells investors, if you invest in this today, in 10 years, companies will be able to access those markets,” she said.
At the same time, carbon removal companies are not going to be competitive in any of these markets until carbon trades at a substantially higher price, or until companies can make carbon removal less expensive. “We need to both figure out how we can drive down the cost of carbon removal and how to make these carbon removal solutions more effective, and really kind of hone the technology. Those are what is going to unlock demand in the future,” she said.
There’s certainly some progress being made on that front. This year saw more real-world deployments and field tests. Whereas a few years ago, the state of knowledge about various carbon removal methods was based on academic studies of modeling exercises or lab experiments, now there’s starting to be a lot more real-world data. “For me, that is the most important thing that we have seen — continued learning,” Hoglund said.
There’s also been a lot more international interest in the sector. “It feels like there’s this global competition building about what country will be the leader in the industry,” Ben Rubin, the executive director of the Carbon Business Council, told me.
There’s another somewhat deceptive trend in the year’s carbon removal data: The market also appeared to be highly concentrated within one carbon removal method — 75% of Microsoft’s purchases, and 70% of the total sales tracked by CDR.fyi, were credits for bioenergy with carbon capture, where biomass is burned for energy and the resulting emissions are captured and stored. Despite making up the largest volume of credits, however, these were actually just a rare few deals. “It’s the least common method,” Hoglund said.
Companies reported delivering about 450,000 tons of carbon removal this year, according to CDR.fyi’s data, bringing the cumulative total to over 1 million tons to date. Some 80% of the total came from biochar projects, but the remaining deliveries run the gamut of carbon removal methods, including ocean-based techniques and enhanced rock weathering.
Amador predicted that in the near-term, we may see increased buying from the tech sector, as the growth of artificial intelligence and power-hungry data centers sets those companies’ further back on their climate commitments. She’s also optimistic about a growing trend of exploring “industrial integrations” — basically incorporating carbon removal into existing industrial processes such as municipal waste management, agricultural operations, wastewater treatment, mining, and pulp and paper factories. “I think that's something that we'll see a spotlight on next year,” she said.
Another place that may help unlock demand is the Science Based Targets initiative, a nonprofit that develops voluntary standards for corporate climate action. The group has been in the process of revising its Net-Zero Standard, which will give companies more direction about what role carbon removal should play in their sustainability strategies.
The question is whether any of these policy developments will come soon enough or be significant enough to sustain this capital-intensive, immature industry long enough for it to prove its utility. Investment in the industry has been predicated on the idea that demand for carbon removal will grow, Hoglund told me. If growth continues at the pace we saw this year, it’s going to get a lot harder for startups to raise their series B or C.
“When you can't raise that, and you haven't sold enough to keep yourself afloat, then you go out of business,” he said. “I would expect quite a few companies to go out of business in 2026.”
Hoglund was quick to qualify his dire prediction, however, adding that these were normal growing pains for any industry and shouldn’t be viewed as a sign of failure. “It could be interpreted that way, and the vibe may shift, especially if you see a lot of the prolific companies come down,” he said. “But it’s natural. I think that’s something we should be prepared for and not panic about.”
America runs on natural gas.
That’s not an exaggeration. Almost half of home heating is done with natural gas, and around 40% — the plurality — of our electricity is generated with natural gas. Data center developers are pouring billions into natural gas power plants built on-site to feed their need for computational power. In its -260 degree Fahrenheit liquid form, the gas has attracted tens of billions of dollars in investments to export it abroad.
The energy and climate landscape in the United States going into 2026 — and for a long time afterward — will be largely determined by the forces pushing and pulling on natural gas. Those could lead to higher or more volatile prices for electricity and home heating, and even possibly to structural changes in the electricity market.
But first, the weather.
“Heating demand is still the main way gas is used in the U.S.,” longtime natural gas analyst Amber McCullagh explained to me. That makes cold weather — experienced and expected — the main driver of natural gas prices, even with new price pressures from electricity demand.
New sources of demand don’t help, however. While estimates for data center construction are highly speculative, East Daily Analytics figures cited by trade publication Natural Gas Intel puts a ballpark figure of new data center gas demand at 2.5 billion cubic feet per day by the end of next year, compared to 0.8 billion cubic feet per day for the end of this year. By 2030, new demand from data centers could add up to over 6 billion cubic feet per day of natural gas demand, East Daley Analytics projects. That’s roughly in line with the total annual gas production of the Eagle Ford Shale in southwest Texas.
Then there are exports. The U.S. Energy Information Administration expects outbound liquified natural gas shipments to rise to 14.9 billion cubic feet per day this year, and to 16.3 billion cubic feet in 2026. In 2024, by contrast, exports were just under 12 billion cubic feet per day.
“Even as we’ve added demand for data centers, we’re getting close to 20 billion per day of LNG exports,” McCullagh said, putting more pressure on natural gas prices.
That’s had a predictable effect on domestic gas prices. Already, the Henry Hub natural gas benchmark price has risen to above $5 per million British thermal units earlier this month before falling to $3.90, compared to under $3.50 at the end of last year. By contrast, LNG export prices, according to the most recent EIA data, are at around $7 per million BTUs.
This yawning gap between benchmark domestic prices and export prices is precisely why so many billions of dollars are being poured into LNG export capacity — and why some have long been wary of it, including Democratic politicians in the Northeast, which is chronically short of natural gas due to insufficient pipeline infrastructure. A group of progressive Democrats in Congress wrote a letter to Secretary of Energy Chris Wright earlier this year opposing additional licenses for LNG exports, arguing that “LNG exports lead to higher energy prices for both American families and businesses.”
Industry observers agree — or at least agree that LNG exports are likely to pull up domestic prices. “Henry Hub is clearly bullish right now until U.S. gas production catches up,” Ira Joseph, a senior research associate at the Center for Global Energy Policy at Columbia University, told me. “We’re definitely heading towards convergence” between domestic and global natural gas prices.
But while higher natural gas prices may seem like an obvious boon to renewables, the actual effect may be more ambiguous. The EIA expects the Henry Hub benchmark to average $4 per million BTUs for 2026. That’s nothing like the $9 the benchmark hit in August 2022, the result of post-COVID economic restart, supply tightness, and the Russian invasion of Ukraine.
Still, a tighter natural gas market could mean a more volatile electricity and energy sector in 2026. The United States is basically unique globally in having both large-scale domestic production of coal and natural gas that allows its electricity generation to switch between them. When natural gas prices go up, coal burning becomes more economically attractive.
Add to that, the EIA forecasts that electricity generation will have grown 2.4% by the end of 2025, and will grow another 1.7% in 2026, “in contrast to relatively flat generation from 2010 to 2020. That is “primarily driven by increasing demand from large customers, including data centers,” the agency says.
This is the load growth story. With the help of the Trump administration, it’s turning into a coal growth story, too.
Already several coal plants have extended out their retirement dates, either to maintain reliability on local grids or because the Trump administration ordered them to. In America’s largest electricity market, PJM Interconnection, where about a fifth of the installed capacity is coal, diversified energy company Alliance Resource Partners expects 4% to 6% demand growth, meaning it might even be able to increase coal production. Coal consumption has jumped 16% in PJM in the first nine months of 2025, the company’s Chairman Joseph Kraft told analysts.
“The domestic thermal coal market is continuing to experience strong fundamentals, supported by an unprecedented combination of federal energy and environmental policy support plus rapid demand growth,” Kraft said in a statement accompanying the company’s October third quarter earnings report. He pointed specifically to “natural gas pricing dynamics” and “the dramatic load growth required by artificial intelligence.”
Observers are also taking notice. “The key driver for coal prices remains strong natural gas prices,” industry newsletter The Coal Trader wrote.
In its December short term outlook, the EIA said that it expects “coal consumption to increase by 9% in 2025, driven by an 11% increase in coal consumption in the electric power sector this year as both natural gas costs and electricity demand increased,” while falling slightly in 2026 (compared to 2025), leaving coal consumption sill above 2024 levels.
“2025 coal generation will have increased for the first time since the last time gas prices spiked,” McCullagh told me.
Assuming all this comes to pass, the U.S.’s total carbon dioxide emissions will have essentially flattened out at around 4.8 million metric tons. The ultimate cost of higher natural gas prices will likely be felt far beyond the borders of the United States and far past 2026.
Lawmakers today should study the Energy Security Act of 1980.
The past few years have seen wild, rapid swings in energy policy in the United States, from President Biden’s enthusiastic embrace of clean energy to President Trump’s equally enthusiastic re-embrace of fossil fuels.
Where energy industrial policy goes next is less certain than any other moment in recent memory. Regardless of the direction, however, we will need creative and effective policy tools to secure our energy future — especially for those of us who wish to see a cleaner, greener energy system. To meet the moment, we can draw inspiration from a largely forgotten piece of energy industrial policy history: the Energy Security Act of 1980.
After a decade of oil shocks and energy crises spanning three presidencies, President Carter called for — and Congress passed — a new law that would “mobilize American determination and ability to win the energy war.” To meet that challenge, lawmakers declared their intent “to utilize to the fullest extent the constitutional powers of the Congress” to reduce the nation’s dependence on imported oil and shield the economy from future supply shocks. Forty-five years later, that brief moment of determined national mobilization may hold valuable lessons for the next stage of our energy industrial policy.
The 1970s were a decade of energy volatility for Americans, with spiking prices and gasoline shortages, as Middle Eastern fossil fuel-producing countries wielded the “oil weapon” to throttle supply. In his 1979 “Crisis of Confidence” address to the nation, Carter warned that America faced a “clear and present danger” from its reliance on foreign oil and urged domestic producers to mobilize new energy sources, akin to the way industry responded to World War II by building up a domestic synthetic rubber industry.
To develop energy alternatives, Congress passed the Energy Security Act, which created a new government-run corporation dedicated to investing in alternative fuels projects, a solar bank, and programs to promote geothermal, biomass, and renewable energy sources. The law also authorized the president to create a system of five-year national energy targets and ordered one of the federal government’s first studies on the impacts of greenhouse gases from fossil fuels.
Carter saw the ESA as the beginning of an historic national mission. “[T]he Energy Security Act will launch this decade with the greatest outpouring of capital investment, technology, manpower, and resources since the space program,” he said at the signing. “Its scope, in fact, is so great that it will dwarf the combined efforts expended to put Americans on the Moon and to build the entire Interstate Highway System of our country.” The ESA was a recognition that, in a moment of crisis, the federal government could revive the tools it once used in wartime to meet an urgent civilian challenge.
In its pursuit of energy security, the Act deployed several remarkable industrial policy tools, with the Synthetic Fuels Corporation as the centerpiece. The corporation was a government-run investment bank chartered to finance — and in some cases, directly undertake — alternative fuels projects, including those derived from coal, shale, and oil.. Regardless of the desirability or feasibility of synthetic fuels, the SFC as an institution illustrates the type of extraordinary authority Congress was once willing to deploy to address energy security and stand up an entirely new industry. It operated outside of federal agencies, unencumbered by the normal bureaucracy and restrictions that apply to government.
Along with everything else created by the ESA, the Sustainable Fuels Corporation was also financed by a windfall profits tax assessed on oil companies, essentially redistributing income from big oil toward its nascent competition. Both the law and the corporation had huge bipartisan support, to the tune of 317 votes for the ESA in the House compared to 93 against, and 78 to 12 in the Senate.
The Synthetic Fuels Corporation was meant to be a public catalyst where private investment was unlikely to materialize on its own. Investors feared that oil prices could fall, or that OPEC might deliberately flood the market to undercut synthetic fuels before they ever reached scale. Synthetic fuel projects were also technically complex, capital-intensive undertakings, with each plant costing several billion dollars, requiring up to a decade to plan and build.
To address this, Congress equipped the corporation with an unusually broad set of tools. The corporation could offer loans, loan guarantees, price guarantees, purchase agreements, and even enter joint ventures — forms of support meant to make first-of-a-kind projects bankable. It could assemble financing packages that traditional lenders viewed as too risky. And while the corporation was being stood up, the president was temporarily authorized to use Defense Production Act powers to initiate early synthetic fuel projects. Taken together, these authorities amounted to a federal attempt to build an entirely new energy industry.
While the ESA gave the private sector the first shot at creating a synthetic fuels industry, it also created opportunities for the federal government to invest. The law authorized the Synthetic Fuels Corporation to undertake and retain ownership over synthetic fuels construction projects if private investment was insufficient to meet production targets. The SFC was also allowed to impose conditions on loans and financial assistance to private developers that gave it a share of project profits and intellectual property rights arising out of federally-funded projects. Congress was not willing to let the national imperative of energy security rise or fall on the whims of the market, nor to let the private sector reap publicly-funded windfalls.
Employing logic that will be familiar to many today, Carter was particularly concerned that alternative fuel sources would be unduly delayed by permitting rules and proposed an Energy Mobilization Board to streamline the review process for energy projects. Congress ultimately refused to create it, worried it would trample state authority and environmental protections. But the impulse survived elsewhere. At a time when the National Environmental Policy Act was barely 10 years old and had become the central mechanism for scrutinizing major federal actions, Congress provided an exemption for all projects financed by the Synthetic Fuels Corporation, although other technologies supported in the law — like geothermal energy — were still required to go through NEPA review. The contrast is revealing — a reminder that when lawmakers see an energy technology as strategically essential, they have been willing not only to fund it but also to redesign the permitting system around it.
Another forgotten feature of the corporation is how far Congress went to ensure it could actually hire top tier talent. Lawmakers concluded that the federal government’s standard pay scales were too low and too rigid for the kind of financial, engineering, and project development expertise the Synthetic Fuels Corporation needed. So it gave the corporation unusual salary flexibility, allowing it to pay above normal civil service rates to attract people with the skills to evaluate multibillion dollar industrial projects. In today’s debates about whether federal agencies have the capacity to manage complex clean energy investments, this detail is striking. Congress once knew that ambitious industrial policy requires not just money, but people who understand how deals get done.
But the Energy Security Act never had the chance to mature. The corporation was still getting off the ground when Carter lost the 1980 election to Ronald Reagan. Reagan’s advisers viewed the project as a distortion of free enterprise — precisely the kind of government intervention they believed had fueled the broader malaise of the 1970s. While Reagan had campaigned on abolishing the Department of Energy, the corporation proved an easier and more symbolic target. His administration hollowed it out, leaving it an empty shell until Congress defunded it entirely in 1986.
At the same time, the crisis atmosphere that had justified the Energy Security Act began to wane. Oil prices fell nearly 60% during Reagan’s first five years, and with them the political urgency behind alternative fuels. Drained of its economic rationale, the synthetic fuels industry collapsed before it ever had a chance to prove whether it could succeed under more favorable conditions. What had looked like a wartime mobilization suddenly appeared to many lawmakers to be an expensive overreaction to a crisis that had passed.
Yet the ESA’s legacy is more than an artifact of a bygone moment. It offers at least three lessons that remain strikingly relevant today:
As we now scramble to make up for lost time, today’s clean energy push requires institutions that can survive electoral swings. Nearly half a century after the ESA, we must find our way back to that type of institutional imagination to meet the energy challenges we still face.