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And it’s doing so in the most chaotic way possible.

The Trump administration filed a rule change this past weekend to remove key implementation regulations for the National Environmental Policy Act, a critical environmental law that dates back to 1969. While this new rule, once finalized, wouldn’t eliminate NEPA itself (doing so would take an act of Congress), it would eliminate the authority of the office charged with overseeing how federal agencies interpret and implement the law. This throws the entire federal environmental review process into limbo as developers await what will likely be a long and torturous legal battle over the law’s future.
The office in question, the Council on Environmental Quality, is part of the Executive Office of the President and has directed NEPA administration for nearly the law’s entire existence. Individual agencies have their own specific NEPA regulations, which will remain in effect even as CEQ’s blanket procedural requirements go away. “The argument here is that CEQ is redundant and that each agency can implement NEPA by following the existing law,” Emily Domenech, a senior vice president at the climate-focused government affairs and advisory firm Boundary Stone, told me. Domenech formerly served as a senior policy advisor to current and former Republican Speakers of the House Mike Johnson and Kevin McCarthy.
NEPA has been the subject of growing bipartisan ire in recent years, as lengthy environmental review processes and a barrage of lawsuits from environmental and community groups have delayed infrastructure projects of all types. While the text of the pending rule is not yet public, the idea is to streamline permitting and make it easier for developers to build. In theory that would include expediting projects such as solar farms and clean energy manufacturing facilities; in reality, under the Trump administration, the benefits could redound to fossil fuel infrastructure first and foremost.
On his first day back in office, Trump issued an executive order entitled Unleashing American Energy, which instructed CEQ to provide new, nonbinding guidance on NEPA implementation and “propose rescinding” its existing regulations within 30 days. Time is up, and CEQ published its first round of guidance late Wednesday night. So far it’s pretty bare bones, though as Hochman pointed out, it notably does away with environmental justice considerations as well as the need to take the “cumulative” environmental effect of an action into account, as opposed to simply the “reasonably foreseeable effects.” It also looks to exempt certain projects that receive federal loans from the NEPA process.
But gutting CEQ’s regulatory capacity via this so-called “interim final rule” is a controversial move of questionable legality. Interim final rules generally go into effect immediately, thus skirting the requirement to gather public comment beforehand. Expediting rules like this is only allowed in cases where posting advance notice and taking comments is deemed “impracticable, unnecessary, or contrary to the public interest.”
It’s almost certain that this interim rule will be challenged in court. Sierra Club senior attorney Nathaniel Shoaff certainly thinks it should be. “This action is rash, unlawful, and unwise. Rather than making it easier to responsibly build new infrastructure, throwing out implementing regulations for NEPA will only serve to create chaos and uncertainty,” Shoaff said in a statement. “The Trump administration seems to think that the rules don’t apply to them, but we’re confident the courts will say otherwise.”
Thomas Hochman, director of infrastructure at the center-right think tank Foundation for American Innovation, disagrees. “I think environmental groups will sue, and I think they’ll lose,” he told me. Hochman cited a surprising decision issued by the D.C. Circuit Court of Appeals last November, which stated that CEQ did not have the authority to issue binding NEPA regulations, and that it was never intended to "act as a regulatory agency rather than as an advisory agency.” This ruling ultimately made it possible for Trump to so radically reimagine CEQ’s authority in his executive order.
“I would expect environmentalists on the left to challenge any Trump administration actions on NEPA,” Domenech told me. “But I actually think that the Trump team welcomes that, because they'd love to get quicker, decisive rulings on whether or not CEQ even had this authority to begin with.”
NEPA, which went into effect before the Environmental Protection Agency was even created, is a short law with the simple goal of requiring federal agencies to take the environmental impact of their work into account. But responsibility for the law’s implementation has always fallen to CEQ, which created a meticulous environmental review and public input process — perhaps too meticulous for an era that demands significant, rapid infrastructure investment to enable the energy transition.
Recognizing this, the Biden administration tried to rein in NEPA and expedite environmental review via provisions in the 2023 Fiscal Responsibility Act, which included imposing time limits on Environmental Assessments and Environmental Impact Statements and setting page limits for these documents. But as Hochman sees it, these well intentioned reforms didn’t make much of a dent. “It was up to CEQ to take the language from the Fiscal Responsibility Act and then write their interpretation of it,” he told me. “And what CEQ basically did was they grafted it back into the status quo.” Now that those regulations are kaput, however, Hochman thinks the Fiscal Responsibility Act’s amendments will have much more power to narrow NEPA’s mandate.
Trump’s executive order requires the yet-to-be-announced chair of CEQ to coordinate a revision of each individual agency’s NEPA regulations, a process that the recent CEQ guidelines allow 12 months for. But developers can’t afford to sit around. So in the meantime, CEQ recommends (but can’t enforce) that agencies “continue to follow their existing practices and procedures for implementing NEPA” and emphasizes that “agencies should not delay pending or ongoing NEPA analyses while undertaking these revisions.” That said, chaos and confusion are always an option. As Hochman explained, many current agency regulations reference the soon-to-be defunct CEQ regulations, which could create legal complications.
Hochman told me he still thinks CEQ has an important role to play in a scaled-down NEPA landscape. “CEQ ideally will define pretty clearly the framework that agencies should abide by as they write their new regulations,” he explained. For example, he told me that CEQ should be responsible for interpreting critical terms such as what constitutes a “major federal action” that would trigger NEPA, or what counts as an action that “normally does not significantly affect the quality of the human environment,” which would exempt a project from substantial environmental review.
No doubt many of these interpretations will wind up in court. “You will probably see up front litigation of these original definitions, but once they’ve been decided on by higher courts, they won’t really be an open question anymore,” Hochman told me. Basically, some initial pain for lots of future gain is what he’s betting on. Once the text of the interim rule is posted and the lawsuits start rolling in, we’ll check in on the status of that wager.
Editor’s note: This story has been updated to reflect the publication of CEQ’s new guidance on NEPA implementation.
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With a China-Canada import deal and Geely showing up at CES, these low-priced models are getting ever-closer to American roads.
Chinese EVs are at the gates.
Low-priced electric vehicles by the likes of Geely, BYD, and Zeekr have already sold enormous numbers in their home country and spearheaded EV growth around the world, from Southeast Asia to Latin America. Now they’re closing in on America’s borders. Canada just agreed to a new trade deal with Beijing that would kill the country’s 100% tariff on Chinese cars and, presumably, allow them to undercut the existing Canadian car market. In Mexico, EV sales surged by 29% in 2025 thanks to the arrival of Chinese models.
Though China’s EVs are still unavailable in the U.S., they feel ever-present already. Auto journalists (myself included) drive these vehicles abroad and rave about how capable they are, especially for the price. Social media influencer hype has fed an appetite for both entry-level and luxury Chinese models — and confused plenty of Americans wondering why they can’t buy them. Headlines speculate about how the Detroit auto giants could ever hope to compete once cheap BYD Dolphins start to populate American roads. Chinese giant Geely, which owns Volvo and Polestar, appeared at CES earlier this month, as if to signal that the arrival of Chinese electric vehicles is imminent.
But is it? The outlook remains rather murky.
The first thing to know is that Chinese cars are not outright banned from coming to America. Instead, it’s a constellation of economic and technological headaches that keeps Beijing at bay. A 100% tariff makes it difficult to compete on cost, even with America’s notoriously expensive EVs. America’s safety and emissions standards are difficult and expensive to meet. Because of national security concerns, connected cars (i.e. those that can hook into the internet) cannot use Chinese-made software, a ban that’s soon to expand to electronic hardware.
Those restrictions aren’t likely to change anytime soon. Sean Duffy, the U.S. transportation secretary, responded to Canada’s removal of its Chinese car tariff by saying our neighbor to the north would “surely regret it.” Members of Congress from both parties are largely opposed to allowing Chinese cars into America under the logic of protectionism for U.S. automakers.
Yet all that might not be enough to prevent the eventual arrival of Geelys and BYDs. The first variable is the unpredictability of President Trump, who has said before that he would like to see Chinese-made cars in America. I don’t expect the United States to eliminate its tariff entirely the way Canada has, but look, you just never know what the heck is going to happen these days.
In the meantime, Chinese automakers are strategizing how they might navigate the rules in place and sell cars here anyway. Crash safety, for example, isn’t the impediment it might appear to be. China’s carmakers have intentionally designed their models in such a way that they could be tweaked, rather than totally redesigned, to meet more stringent rules.
As for the rest, the global reach of these companies could help them get around rules that specifically target China. Geely, which has suggested it will reveal plans for an American invasion within two to three years, builds Volvos in South Carolina and could use those facilities to build Geely-branded EVs in the United States. Company representatives also hand-waved away the problem of Chinese-made software, arguing that as a global brand, it’s already accustomed to meeting the various data privacy regulations of different countries and regions.
In other words, Chinese car companies could skirt some American hurdles by making their cars a little less Chinese. The problem is that doing so might spoil their secret sauce. Part of the magic of Chinese EVs is their responsive, easy-to-understand touchscreen interface that’s obviously superior to what’s offered in otherwise-excellent electric vehicles by Chevy or Hyundai. There’s no guarantee Geely could easily secure a Western-made replacement of the same quality.
The key question, then, is: Will Americans want the versions of Chinese EVs that come to America? We’ve noted recently that drivers are finally showing signs that they are fed up with the cost of new cars spiraling out of control. The kind of cheap Chinese EVs now on sale around the world would be a godsend for money-stressed Americans who are dependent on the automobile. But tariffs and other aforementioned factors mean that the models we get likely won’t be $10,000 basic transportation machines that undercut the entire overpriced American car economy.
Instead, Geelys for America probably will be big, luxurious vehicles whose appeal is fundamentally about feeling techy, futuristic, and cool, much the way Tesla first won over U.S. drivers. To that end, the brand brought a couple of fancy plug-in hybrid SUVs to CES to show Americans what we’re missing. Five years hence, we might not be missing them at all.
Current conditions: The winter storm barreling from Texas to Delaware could drop up to 2 feet of snow on Appalachia • Severe floods in Mozambique’s province of Gaza have displaced nearly 330,000 people • Parts of northern Minnesota and North Dakota are facing wind chills of -55 degrees Fahrenheit.
President Donald Trump announced a “framework of a future deal” on Greenland on Wednesday and abandoned plans to slap new tariffs on key European Union allies. He offered sparse details of the agreement, though he hinted that at least one provision would allow for the establishment of a missile-defense system in Greenland akin to Israel’s Iron Dome, which Trump has called “The Golden Dome.” On the Arctic island in question, meanwhile, Greenlanders have been preparing for the worst. The newspaper Sermitsiaq reported that generators and water cans have sold out as panic buyers stocked up in anticipation of a possible American invasion.

Geothermal startups had a big day on Wednesday. Zanskar, a company that’s using artificial intelligence to find untapped conventional geothermal resources, raised $115 million in a Series C round. The Salt Lake City-based company — which experts in Heatmap's Insider Survey identified as one of the most promising climate tech startups operating today — is looking to build its first power plants. “With this funding, we have a six power plant execution plan ahead of us in the next three, four years,” Diego D’Sola, Zanskar’s head of finance, told Heatmap’s Katie Brigham. This, he estimates, will generate over $100 million of revenue by the end of the decade, and “unlock a multi-gigawatt pipeline behind that.”
Later on Tuesday, Sage Geosystems, a next-generation geothermal startup using fracking technology to harness the Earth’s heat for energy in places that don’t have conventional resources, announced it had raised $97 million in a Series B. The financing rounds highlight the growing excitement over geothermal energy. If you want a refresher on how it works, Heatmap’s Matthew Zeitlin has a sharp explainer here.
Stegra, the Swedish startup racing to build the world’s first large green steel mill near the Arctic Circle, has recently faced troubles as project costs and delays forced the company to raise over $1 billion in new financing. But last week, Stegra landed a major new customer, marking what Canary Media called “a step forward for the beleaguered project.” A subsidiary of the German industrial giant Thyssenkrupp agreed to buy a certain type of steel from Stegra’s plant, which is set to start operations next year. Thyssenkrupp Materials Services said it would buy tonnages in the “high-six-digit range” of “non-prime” steel, a version of the metal that doesn’t meet the high standards for certain uses but remains strong and durable enough for other industrial applications.
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For years, Tesla’s mission statement has captured its focus on building electric vehicles, solar panels, and batteries: “Accelerating the world’s transition to sustainable energy.” Now, however, billionaire Elon Musk’s manufacturing giant has broadened its pitch. The company’s new mission statement, announced on X, reads: “Building a world of amazing abundance.” The change reflects a wider shift in the cultural discourse around the transition to new energy and transportation technologies. Even experts polled in our Insiders Survey want to ditch “climate change” as a term. The fatigue was striking coming from the very scientists, policymakers, and activists working to defend against the effects of human-caused temperature rise and decarbonize the global economy.That dynamic has fueled the push to refocus rhetoric on the promise of cheaper, more efficient, and more abundant technological luxuries — a concept Tesla appears to be tapping into now. It may be time for a change. As Matthew wrote in September, Tesla’s market share hit an all-time low last year.
In yesterday’s newsletter, I told you that the Tokyo Electric Power Company had delayed the restart of the Kashiwazaki Kariwa nuclear power station in western Japan over an alarm malfunction. It wasn’t immediately clear how quickly Japan’s state-owned utility would clear up the issue. It turns out, pretty quickly. The pause lasted just 24 hours before Tepco brought Unit 6 of the seven-reactor facility back online, NucNet reported.
Things are getting steamy in the frigid waters of Alaska’s Bristol Bay. New research from Florida Atlantic University’s Harbor Branch Oceanographic Institute found that a small population of beluga whales survive the long haul by mating with multiple partners over several years. It’s not just the males finding multiple female partners, as is the case with some other mammals. The study found that both males and females mated with multiple partners over several years. “What makes this study so thrilling is that it upends our long-standing assumptions about this Arctic species,” Greg O’Corry-Crowe, the research professor who authored the study, said in a press release. “It’s a striking reminder that female choice can be just as influential in shaping reproductive success as the often-highlighted battles of male-male competition. Such strategies highlight the subtle, yet powerful ways in which females exert control over the next generation, shaping the evolutionary trajectory of the species.”
The country is already suffering the effects of climate change. A lack of data makes it that much more difficult to adapt.
The nation of Venezuela perches atop a fifth of the planet’s recoverable crude oil. Due to mismanagement, corruption, failing infrastructure, and a dearth of technical expertise, its output, however, is low — less than a million barrels a day. If production in the country were to continue apace, exhausting the reserve would take over 1,500 years, extending the extraction of fossil fuels as far into the future as the early water wheel lies in society’s past. The reserves-to-production ratio for the United States’ existing oil is, by comparison, a mere 11 years.
The opportunity of all that untapped oil is part of why the Trump administration has seized control of the extra-heavy crude in the Orinoco Basin, which is among the dirtiest and most carbon-intensive oil in the world. Many observers have remarked on the planet-warming potential of the oil takeover, and the revival of Venezuela’s fossil fuel industry would indeed be yet another nail in the coffin of the Paris Agreement’s 1.5 Celsius temperature-rise goal.
But far less has been said about what a more extreme climate would mean for Venezuelans. That’s at least partially because we don’t fully know.
“Venezuela often appears in global climate assessments as a blank spot or an unknown, despite being ecologically significant and highly vulnerable,” Liliana Rivas, a freelance environmental and investigative reporter working in the country, told me.
Neglect isn’t a problem unique to Caracas. The international climate science community has long struggled to accurately represent the developing world in its research, though it has made improvements in recent years. Over a third of the contributors to the latest Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change report were from institutions based in the Global South — in parts of Africa, Asia, Latin America, and the Caribbean — up from 10% in the report’s first year.
Still, “the IPCC is doing a systematic literature review, and they rely on what scientific literature is available,” Paulina Jaramillo, a professor of engineering and public policy at Carnegie Mellon University, told me. Jaramillo — who is from Medellín, Colombia, and whose father comes from a border town with Venezuela — added that “the common language you see in the reports from Africa and South America is that the peer-reviewed literature is much more limited in those countries.”
Part of that is due to modest funding opportunities for researchers. (Jaramillo said “everyone thought I was crazy” when she decided almost 30 years ago to study environmental engineering in Colombia.) But the absence of long-term datasets makes quality climate research difficult, too. It takes “at least 30 years of continuous observations … to define a climatic period and allow for robust conclusions,” Nature noted in a recent editorial. Climate researchers who want to study Venezuela are, for the most part, restricted to data gathered since the satellite era, post-1980s, which was never designed to offer a detailed local picture.
Understanding the climate picture in Venezuela is critical, though. Out of 188 nations in the world, Venezuela ranks 181st in climate vulnerability. The nation faces a laundry list of worsening environmental crises, including extreme flooding, droughts, landslides, heat waves, rising sea levels, deforestation, oil spills, contamination and pollution, and illegal mining. An extreme rainfall event over the Andes and Venezuela Llanos last summer displaced thousands of people, observers estimated, cutting off nearly 10,000 families in the mountainous western state of Mérida from food, water, health care, and adequate sanitation services. By some measurements, Venezuela was also the first nation in the world to lose all of its glaciers.
“What happens [in Venezuela] affects the rest of the world,” Jaramillo told me. Between 2014 and late 2025, almost 8 million people were estimated to have left the country, straining public services in neighboring nations. “Climate change is a threat multiplier,” Jaramillo went on. “We can’t just think, ‘Oh, those are problems in those countries.’ They have global geopolitical implications, in addition to the humanitarian aspect.”
An incomplete picture not only heightens Venezuela’s vulnerability to extreme weather impacts, it also renders the country all but incapable of adapting to them. After all, how can you develop effective strategies without data to inform the designs and operations? Partially because of this, Venezuela has been ranked 142nd out of 192 countries by Notre Dame in terms of its adaptation capabilities. “It’s the worst prepared country in South America” when it comes to climate change, Jaramillo said.
The country’s weather-monitoring infrastructure — which is accessible to researchers — is poorly maintained. A “significant” number of weather stations across Venezuela are inoperable, “limiting the ability to track rainfall, temperature, and extremes with confidence at local scale,” Robert Muggah, the co-founder of the Igarapé Institute, a Brazil-based security and development think tank, told me by email from Davos. “More recently, reporting from the Venezuelan Amazon has described weather stations being looted or relocated for security, leaving major river basins with long gaps in routine measurements.”
Mariam Zachariah, a research associate at London’s Imperial College, told me her team at World Weather Attribution ran into this problem when it tried to investigate whether anthropogenic climate change fueled the catastrophic flooding in the country last year. “You might have 10 weather stations in the region, but when you try to look at them, five will not have data,” she said. “So you can’t really use that. You don’t actually get a good representation of the trend in that region.” The complex natural topography of Venezuela also renders large-scale climate models unreliable, making conclusions drawn from them even less certain.
Following the collapse of Venezuela’s oil production in the mid-2010s, recently removed President Nicolás Maduro’s government also began censoring the country’s environmental statistics. “There is very little transparency and public access to environmental data,” Rivas, the investigative journalist, said.
Reporters working within Venezuela face dangers, too. Joshua De Freitas Hernández, an independent journalist, told me he estimates there are fewer than 20 reporters in his country focused on environmental issues, and none of them are on the climate change beat, specifically. Emiliano Teran Mantovani, a Venezuelan sociologist and political activist, also told me there has been a “decrease in the reports of oil spills and the reports of ecological degradation in the national parks because people do not want to talk.” The government repression is “really, really scary,” he added.
Local reporters who forge ahead find themselves contending with many of the same problems as international researchers: “limited access to official data, restricted access to certain territories, and security risk scenarios affected by mining or extractive activity,” Rivas told me.
The environmental situation is so bad, in fact, that some hope the U.S. takeover of the nation’s oil industry will actually improve it. “Much of the [fossil fuel industry] pollution happening today is the result of abandonment, lack of maintenance, and total absence of environmental oversight,” Rivas said. “I think that in that context, some people, including also environmental observers, cautiously argue that the return of international companies could, under the right conditions, introduce environmental controls, monitoring standards, and technologies that currently do not exist.”
Mantovani, the activist, pushed back on that line of thinking. “The environmental issue is not a priority either for the government or the opposition, or for Donald Trump or Chinese capitalists,” he said. “No one is talking about the environmental issues or climate issues.”
The Trump administration has argued that the U.S. takeover of the oil industry will benefit the Venezuelan people. But while “extreme weather in Venezuela will not suddenly shift because of a single military operation,” as Muggah of the Igarapé Institute put it to me, fossil fuel-related pollution could have immediate public health impacts on local and Indigenous communities. (Illegal mining, while not as directly linked to climate change as oil production, is another extractive industry compounding the twinned environmental and humanitarian crises in the country.)
In the short term, “When security operations and political upheaval intensify, the institutions that keep people safe during heat waves, floods, and disease outbreaks often get weaker,” Muggah added. Worse yet, due to the many ongoing uncertainties about Venezuela’s future climate and Caracas’ limited ability to identify those risks or adapt, there will almost certainly be extreme-weather refugees in the country in the future.
International research institutions say, “Well, we don’t know what is happening in Venezuela or if this extreme weather is related to climate change, because there is no data,” De Freitas Hernández, the independent Venezuelan journalist, told me. “That’s the first thing all institutions have to say: ‘We don’t have the data.’ We need the data.”