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While you were watching Florida and Wisconsin, voters in Naperville, Illinois were showing up to fight coal.

It’s probably fair to say that not that many people paid close attention to last night’s city council election in Naperville, Illinois. A far western suburb of Chicago, the city is known for its good schools, small-town charm, and lovely brick-paved path along the DuPage River. Its residents tend to vote for Democrats. It’s not what you would consider a national bellwether.
Instead, much of the nation’s attention on Tuesday night focused on the outcomes of races in Wisconsin and Florida — considered the first electoral tests of President Donald Trump and Elon Musk’s popularity. Outside of the 80,000 or so voters who cast ballots in Naperville, there weren’t likely many outsiders watching the suburb’s returns.
But for clean energy and environmental advocates, the Naperville city council results represent an encouraging, if overlooked, victory. On Tuesday, voters in the suburb elected four candidates — incumbents Benjamin White and Ian Holzhauer, and newcomers Mary Gibson and Ashfaq Syed — all of whom oppose the city signing a new contract with the Prairie State Generating Station, the state’s largest and youngest coal-fired plant and the seventh-dirtiest electricity provider in the country.
Naperville is one of 30 municipal investors in the Prairie State plant whose contract with the Illinois Municipal Electric Agency, a public power agency and one of the nine partial owners of Prairie State, has it locked into coal through 2035. Recently, IMEA approached the municipal investors with the promise of favorable terms on a new contract if the cities and towns were willing to re-sign a decade early — by April 30 — and commit to another 20 years of coal power. Most municipalities took the deal, which will run through 2055; Naperville, along with the towns of St. Charles and Winnetka, are still debating the decision, with the deadline looming.
“IMEA’s proposition for communities is, ‘Hey, instead of paying Wall Street and shareholder dividends, we don’t have any of that because we’re a nonprofit, so you get lower energy costs,’” Fernando Arriola, the community relations chair for Naperville Environment and Sustainability Task Force, which opposes the deal with IMEA, told me. “But the way I look at it is, it’s a deal with the devil because you’re locked in for 30 years. And it’s like Hotel California — you can check in anytime you like, but you can never leave.”
In a statement to Heatmap, Staci Wilson, the vice president of government affairs and member services at IMEA, told me that the contract it offered to Naperville is “designed to help … secure more future green resources to serve our member communities for the long term. IMEA is the only power supplier to allow the city to have a direct voice in procuring their wholesale power supply and make reliable, economical, and sustainable resource decisions for the future.”
While it’s true that IMEA allows its municipal members a voice in its future planning, those in Naperville who oppose the new contract point out that the community has just one vote in the process despite making up 35% of the utility’s market.
The pending contract decision became one of the major themes of the city council race in Naperville — attention that caused some locals to grumble about the injection of partisan politics and outside interest in the campaigns. But Syed, a newly elected city council member and a recent immigrant from Dubai, told me that learning that his city relied on coal for 80% of its energy needs was what ultimately galvanized him into running. “Naperville has been a leader in many things, but in this area, we were not doing good,” he said. “So I stepped up.”
Illinois has one of the nation’s most aggressive decarbonization timelines, requiring coal and gas plants to close by 2030. But there is a carve-out for plants owned by public entities like municipal utilities or rural electric cooperatives, and Prairie State fits that bill. Instead, the power plant has to reduce emissions by 45% by 2038, a goal IMEA says it can reach by installing multi-billion dollar carbon capture and storage technologies. Energy experts have been widely skeptical of the proposal. “The people I’ve talked to say that’s unproven and it doesn’t necessarily work, and it’s a high price,” Arriola said.
Still, cost concerns related to transitioning away from coal had “definitely been a conversation in town” leading up to Tuesday’s election, Arriola told me. “A lot of people are seriously concerned about pricing, and there are also concerns about the reliability.” Syed told me that was one of the objections he heard the most when talking to constituents during his campaign. “Some of the Republicans who were against [exporing alternative energy options] were trying to influence people, saying we need to think about the cost,” he said. “My standard answer to these people was that I am not going to compromise clean energy just for the cost purpose.”
Perhaps most interestingly, unlike many communities that oppose power plants, Naperville is located almost 300 miles north of the Prairie State Generating Station and is unaffected by its immediate pollution. Naperville voters who opposed renewing the contract did so on the merits of finding cleaner energy sources and on the objection to dirty electricity that is otherwise out of sight and out of mind. As Amanda Pankau, the director of energy and community resiliency at the Prairie Rivers Network, an environmental nonprofit in the state, told me, “From a climate perspective, we should all care about the Prairie State coal plant.” She noted that the emissions from the plant — around 12.4 million tons of carbon dioxide a year — are “impacting every single Illinoisan and every single person that lives on planet Earth.”
Despite those existential stakes, it could be tempting to wave away the results in Naperville as being on trend for a relatively affluent and liberal-leaning town. Compared to the Wisconsin supreme court election, where the Democrat-backed candidate overcame enormous spending margins to trounce her Republican-backed opponent, it does not necessarily indicate the same momentum for the party heading into 2026’s midterms. (Nor does it even have the biggest climate-related election headline of the night: Tesla is suing Wisconsin for a law preventing car manufacturers from owning car dealerships, which the state’s high court will likely decide.)
But at a time of little good news in the climate sphere, the Naperville election is an encouraging and invigorating reminder that there are candidates who believe in cleaner technologies, and that the battles can still — or especially — be won at the local level. “Twenty-five or 30 years ago, the IMEA contract we signed for that time was okay,” Syed said. “But it’s not okay today. We cannot have this $2 billion contract until 2055 because the next generation will ask us this question: ‘What have you people done for us this time?’”
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Europe’s heat wave has finally ended — and good riddance. The continent recorded at least 1,300 excess deaths over the past week, according to the World Health Organization. Mortuaries in Paris and other cities were overwhelmed.
North America will now get its turn with summertime heat: At the end of this week, New York, Philadelphia, and other cities down the East Coast — including several where World Cup knock-out games will be played — could see their hottest temperatures since 2012.
As I wrote last week, these bouts of extreme heat are caused by climate change. Severe and record-breaking heat waves are one of anthropogenic global warming’s clearest and most indisputable symptoms.
But as I also wrote last week, Europe and North America have very different ways of dealing with extreme heat. Most Americans have air conditioners, but they remain rare in Europe — and especially in northwestern Europe, including France, Germany, and the United Kingdom.
Since last week, I have read countless explanations about why Europeans don’t have air conditioning at the same rates as Americans — or even Canadians. Perhaps Americans and Europeans have a different relationship to suffering, goes one theory, or maybe the European left has managed to politicize air conditioning in a way that the American left has never tried to do. The cultural divide here is more real than I once would have thought: In Paris, the deputy mayor chided Americans for even asking about Europe’s AC use; she argued air conditioning “contributes and aggravates” to air pollution and climate change. In Florida, meanwhile, we name elementary schools after the inventor of mechanical refrigeration.
Throughout all of this, I’ve assumed that Europeans would purchase air conditioning as the warming climate demands it. Much like the Pacific Northwest, where AC adoption lagged the rest of the United States for decades, much of Western Europe used to enjoy a climate where AC was unnecessary. That changed in Oregon, Washington, and British Columbia after the 2021 heat dome. Now that summertime highs are rising in Europe, too, it seemed obvious that people would go out and buy window unit air conditioners — and where they can’t buy them because of local laws, they’ll push for reform.
It had not occurred to me, though, that a simpler obstacle might be blocking Europe’s adoption of AC. Jonas Nahm, a professor of industrial strategy at the Johns Hopkins School of Advanced International Studies, wrote in with a question: What if it’s the windows?
Do you know about Europe’s superior windows? Unlike the United States, where most of our windows hang on a sash and open vertically, the dominant form of window in Germany, Austria, France, Italy, and the rest of the Blue Banana are tilt-turn windows. This distinctive form of fenestration has a dual-action hinge, meaning it can tilt, opening at the top to let in light or air; and turn, swinging fully open on its hinges.
Tilt-turn windows are superior in most respects to our American sash windows or casements. Because they close more securely, they provide better protection against the elements; because you can swing them into a room and access both sides of a pane, they are easier to clean; and because you can tilt them from the bottom and crack them open at the top, they can ventilate a room without creating a draft. They are also ubiquitous in western Europe. Asked once what Germany meant to her, Germany’s former Chancellor Angela Merkel replied: “I think of well-sealed windows. No other country can make such well-sealed and nice windows.”
They are superior in all respects, I would say — except for one. When Americans in older buildings want to get an air conditioner, we go and buy a window unit, then we slide up the sash window and install it. But tilt-turn windows are not so accommodating. Those who have them must instead go and buy a portable AC unit that sits entirely inside a room, snake its hose out the top of the window, and then either purchase a fabric barrier or jerry-rig towels to seal off the crevices.
If you can’t buy a window unit, in other words, then your air conditioning options narrow. You either have to install an unsightly portable AC unit. Or you have to retrofit your entire home and install mini-splits — a far more expensive renovation that may not even be possible in historic or rental buildings.
Can windows alone explain Europe’s differing approach to air conditioning? It certainly explains a gap I’ve noticed in the discourse, where some Europeans seem to see air conditioning as an exorbitant luxury and Americans see it as, well, just another $250 purchase. It matters, too, that most Europeans heat their homes with radiators, meaning there is no forced-air ductwork system that a central air system can piggyback on. (Of course, my 100-year-old apartment building has radiators, too — but we have sash windows, and therefore window units.)
As it happens, I’ve lived in a home in the United States that had tilt-turn windows. An old German landlord of mine installed them in about half the house. We had window units too, but we stuck them in the few rooms that still had sash windows.
But of course, maybe what you don't have always seems more exotic to you. Not so long ago, I found myself in a smoky Berlin bar talking with a German about how much I liked and respected their windows. My companion was confused and asked me what windows were like in America, and I pantomimed opening a sash window and sticking my head out the bottom.
He was thrilled. Wait, he replied, just like in the movies?
I promise tomorrow's newsletter will not be about windows or air conditioning.
Monday’s Supreme Court decision will give Trump sweeping powers over the agency he already effectively controls.
The Supreme Court on Monday morning effectively OK-ed the firing of commissioners at independent agencies with no showing of cause, overturning a 90-plus-year-old precedent and granting the president seemingly vast powers to reshape the federal regulatory state. That likely includes agencies crucial to energy planning and governance, including the Federal Energy Regulatory Commission and the Nuclear Regulatory Commission (though not, notably, the Federal Reserve Board of Governors).
Harvard Law School professor Ari Peskoe argued in an amicus brief for the case alongside a bipartisan gaggle of 11 former FERC commissioners that deciding in the president’s favor on this case “would bulldoze the structural supports that Congress built into ratemaking commissions to protect its price-setting power from abuse,” protections that “foster regulatory stability for industries investing in essential infrastructure.”
So what’s left of that stability following the Supreme Court’s decision? “It’s been 3+ hours and the President has yet to fire a FERC Commissioner. So no immediate effect,” Peskoe told me in an email.
The case stemmed from Trump’s firing of Rebecca Slaughter, a member of the Federal Trade Commission, because her presence on the Commission would, he said, be “inconsistent with my Administration’s priorities.” Slaughter sued to be reinstated under a precedent established in the 1935 case Humphrey’s Executor v. the United States, in which the Supreme Court ruled that the Constitution did not give the president “illimitable power of removal” over government officials. On Monday, the court disagreed, deciding instead that the President should have wide discretion over the composition of agencies like the FTC, which “unquestionably exercises executive power and must therefore be controlled by the Chief Executive,” Chief Justice John Roberts wrote in his opinion for the majority.
In her dissent on the decision, which split 6-3 along the usual partisan lines, Justice Sonia Sotomayor listed FERC and the NRC as among the “dozens of independent commissions are now likely to become purely executive agencies, shifting tremendous power over broad swaths of American life into the President’s hands.”
Agencies like FERC tend not to be as explicitly politicized or partisan as, say, the Environmental Protection Agency, which is led by a single administrator who serves at the pleasure of the president, or the National Labor Relations Board or Federal Election Commission, which oversee areas of law and policy with stark partisan and ideological stakes. This is partly because FERC justifies decisions on electricity and natural gas policy with reference to “technical expertise,” Peskoe’s fellow Harvard Law School professor and former Obama White House official Jody Freeman told me. (If you have any doubt about this, go read through some 1,000-page-plus FERC orders.
FERC also tends to be more collegial than most other independent agencies. Meetings often include encomia to the agency’s chair for being consensus-oriented, and to its staff, who serve commissioners from both parties. Its recent “show cause” orders directing regional electricity markets to prove they’re taking steps to speed up grid interconnection for large new sources of demand garnered a 5-0 majority, with both Democrats on the Commission voting along with their Republican colleagues.
And FERC chairs do occasionally defy the presidents who have appointed them, most notably in Donald Trump’s first term, when then-Chair Neil Chatterjee dismissed Secretary of Energy Rick Perry’s request to support coal and nuclear power plants able to store fuel on site, thus propping up struggling electricity generators.
Interestingly, Chatterjee, who signed the amicus brief to the court, was relatively relaxed about Monday’s decision’s implications for his former agency about. He observed to me in an email, “given that the commission just voted 5-0 on the WH’s biggest priority before FERC I don’t see it being an issue in the near term.”
In other words, FERC and this White House, at least, already see eye to eye.
But that’s no coincidence. Since the beginning of this term, the White House has set out to rein in and control independent agencies, FERC among them. Though Trump initially tapped sitting Republican Commissioner Mark Christie to lead the commission, he ultimately declined to re-nominate Christie for a second five-year term, leading to Christie’s exit from the commission last August.
In his place, the president installed Laura Swett, who has allowed little daylight between the commission’s and the White House’s positions. Both have attempted to keep the focus on balancing the buildout of data centers to serve artificial intelligence while keeping a lid on consumer electricity prices.
While it’s not foreordained that FERC chairs will agree with the presidents that appointed them, even if they’re both members of the same party, Monday’s decision makes disagreement more dangerous for current and future FERC chairs to consider.
“There’s a bigger risk that they’ll have to ultimately yield to political pressure because they’ll have this very overt threat that they’ll be fired,” Freeman told me. “We’re going to see decisions that look more political, that look less expertly driven, and they probably will wax and wane with every new administration, which undermines stability.”
A longtime energy analyst argues that there are no solutions to the hyperscale problem, only tradeoffs.
Sam Altman, Dario Amodei, and Elon Musk need sign-off from fewer than a dozen board members to commit their companies to multibillion-dollar moves. The power plants that supply their data centers need sign-off from 13 states (plus D.C.), thousands of generators, millions of customers, and a federal regulator whose ratemaking standard predates the personal computer in order to build anything new.
Everyone in tech knows about the CEOs of the foundational artificial intelligence labs. Only energy nerds know the names of the people running our grid operators. That anonymity is a feature, not a bug. Grid operators generally think in decades, not years. But right now, they’re telling the U.S. that it has years, not decades, to figure out its own new path forward.
For decades, this process sufficed for energy generators (and regulators) grown accustomed to gradual, predictable load growth. But over the past several years, the scale and speed of increasing energy demand has overwhelmed the supply -side’s ability to respond. The resulting strain on the grid has reverberated through every rung of the supply chain, delaying development timelines, increasing costs, and elevating energy from political conversations to dinner table discussions.
The loudest creaks and groans are coming from PJM Interconnection, North America’s largest grid operator. Residential bills in the PJM service area are climbing at a dizzying pace. Recent capacity auctions have ended with record prices, which PJM’s own market monitor blames on the explosive growth in data center power demand. Pennsylvania Governor Josh Shapiro has attempted to pressure PJM to lower its capacity price cap. Even Secretary of Energy Chris Wright has called on the Federal Energy Regulatory Commission to develop new procedures to help get data centers online faster.
David Mills, PJM’s CEO, published a 70-page report in May acknowledging that current market rules cannot keep pace with AI-driven load growth. And yet he also refused to recommend a path forward, leaving the decision to “state regulators and legislatures, to FERC, to consumers.”
The most essential grid infrastructure, he explained, “is not a price curve or a performance obligation — it is legitimacy.” In other words, what’s broken isn’t a parameter inside the capacity market, but rather the capacity market itself, along with the political conditions under which it operates. PJM calls this the “credibility trap”: high prices accurately signal that new investment is needed, but when those prices become politically untenable, government intervenes and investment stalls.
The fix, Mills writes, “requires structural choices, not just parameter adjustments.”
Mills is speaking to a deeper issue with the grid than its ability to respond to shifting market dynamics, which is that hyperscalers and grid operators are built to solve two different kinds of problems. Hyperscalers solve engineering problems with specifiable objectives, known constraints, verifiable outcomes. Engineering problems reward concentrated authority and unilateral decision-making.
Grid operators, on the other hand, solve coordination problems. The information they rely on to do so is dispersed across millions of stakeholders, continuously revised and often contradictory, and operators’ preferences are not so much known as they are revealed through deliberation. FERC’s standard for wholesale rates is not whether those rates are objectively “correct,” but rather whether the market settled on those rates through fair competition. The process does not just determine the answer, it essentially is the answer.
This construction is the category error driving the current AI-grid collision. The electricity grid is not an engineering problem with coordination problems attached. It is a coordination problem with engineering problems embedded in it. Treat it as the former and you lose all the information that gets generated in the process of market-based price discovery. You also lose all the buy-in that occurs when real people are faced with real trade-offs and have to make hard, binding choices.
Mills did lay out three possible structural paths in his May letter:
These pathways are not equivalent — unlike with an engineering problem, there are no cut-and-dried solutions here. There are only trade-offs and questions about who bears their consequences. Path C is likely the better answer, while Path A is more expedient. The gap between them is the work PJM’s constituents have to manage over the coming years. PJM may choose the wrong path, or arrive at the right one too late.
The alternative is not hypothetical. If hyperscalers aren’t willing to wait for PJM customers to decide which path they want to take (and recent history suggests they are not) they will build behind-the-meter generation, sign bespoke deals with regulated utilities, and restart dormant nuclear plants. America would be left with two grids, one for compute, one for everything else. The first will be reliable and expensive. The second will be cheaper, fragile, and stranded with the costs of the system the first walked away from. The market would lose the dispatch signal, the error-correcting price mechanism, and the legitimacy of the system that has reliably powered the Mid-Atlantic for two decades.
Economist Friedrich Hayek described the limits of humans’ planning capabilities better than anyone in his 1974 Nobel Prize lecture, using the metaphor of the craftsman shaping his handiwork versus the gardener cultivating growth. The craftsman thinks they can make a perfect tool but repeatedly runs up against the boundaries of their own knowledge, whereas the gardener learns to manage new information as it arises, tending not to the product itself but rather to the conditions that produce it.
Hyperscalers are not bad actors. They have legitimate interests and the political capital to help shape the grid’s future. But we should resist the Newtonian urge to meet unexpected, swiftly moving demand with equally swift supply. Markets and physical systems both tend toward equilibrium, but the former finds it through deliberation, not collision. Instead of trying to unilaterally craft a better grid, hyperscalers might find a better path if they work with the practitioners who already know how to garden.