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The rapid increase in demand for artificial intelligence is creating a seemingly vexing national dilemma: How can we meet the vast energy demands of a breakthrough industry without compromising our energy goals?
If that challenge sounds familiar, that’s because it is. The U.S. has a long history of rising to the electricity demands of innovative new industries. Our energy needs grew far more quickly in the four decades following World War II than what we are facing today. More recently, we have squared off against the energy requirements of new clean technologies that require significant energy to produce — most notably hydrogen.
Courtesy of Rhodium Group
The lesson we have learned time and again is that it is possible to scale technological innovation in a way that also scales energy innovation. Rather than accepting a zero-sum trade-off between innovation and our clean energy goals, we should focus on policies that leverage the growth of AI to scale the growth of clean energy.
At the core of this approach is the concept of additionality: Companies operating massive data centers — often referred to as “hyperscalers” — as well as utilities should have incentives to bring online new, additional clean energy to power new computing needs. That way, we leverage demand in one sector to scale up another. We drive innovation in key sectors that are critical to our nation’s competitiveness, we reward market leaders who are already moving in this direction with a stable, long-term regulatory framework for growth, and we stay on track to meet our nation’s climate commitments.
All of this is possible, but only if we take bold action now.
AI technologies have the potential to significantly boost America’s economic productivity and enhance our national security. AI also has the potential to accelerate the energy transition itself, from optimizing the electricity grid, to improving weather forecasting, to accelerating the discovery of chemicals and material breakthroughs that reduce reliance on fossil fuels. Powering AI, however, is itself incredibly energy intensive. Projections suggest that data centers could consume 9% of U.S. electricity generation by 2030, up from 4% today. Without a national policy response, this surge in energy demand risks increasing our long-term reliance on fossil fuels. By some estimates, around 20 gigawatts of additional natural gas generating capacity will come online by 2030, and coal plant retirements are already being delayed.
Avoiding this outcome will require creative focus on additionality. Hydrogen represents a particularly relevant case study here. It, too, is energy-intensive to produce — a single kilogram of hydrogen requires double the average household’s electricity consumption. And while hydrogen holds great promise to decarbonize parts of our economy, hydrogen is not per se good for our clean energy goals. Indeed, today’s fossil fuel-driven methods of hydrogen production generate more emissions than the entire aviation sector. While we can make zero-emissions hydrogen by using clean electricity to split hydrogen from water, the source of that electricity matters a lot. Similar to data centers, if the power for hydrogen production comes from the existing electricity grid, then ramping up electrolytic production of hydrogen could significantly increase emissions by growing overall energy demand without cleaning the energy mix.
This challenge led to the development of an “additionality” framework for hydrogen. The Inflation Reduction Act offers generous subsidies to hydrogen producers, but to qualify, they must match their electricity consumption with additional (read: newly built) clean energy generation close enough to them that they can actually use it.
This approach, which is being refined in proposed guidance from the U.S. Treasury Department, is designed to make sure that hydrogen’s energy demand becomes a catalyst for investment in new clean electricity generation and decarbonization technologies. Industry leaders are already responding, stating their readiness to build over 50 gigawatts of clean electrolyzer projects because of the long term certainty this framework provides.
While the scale and technology requirements are different, meeting AI’s energy needs presents a similar challenge. Powering data centers from the existing electricity grid mix means that more demand will create more emissions; even when data centers are drawing on clean electricity, if that energy is being diverted from existing sources rather than coming from new, additional clean electricity supply, the result is the same. Amazon’s recent $650 million investment in a data center campus next to an existing nuclear power plant in Pennsylvania illustrates the challenge: While diverting those clean electrons from Pennsylvania homes and businesses to the data center reduces Amazon’s reported emissions, by increasing demand on the grid without building additional clean capacity, it creates a need for new capacity in the region that will likely be met by fossil fuels (while also shifting up to $140 million of additional costs per year onto local customers).
Neither hyperscalers nor utilities should be expected to resolve this complex tension on their own. As with hydrogen, it is in our national interest to find a path forward.
What we need, then, is a national solution to make sure that as we expand our AI capabilities, we bring online new clean energy, as well, strengthening our competitive position in both industries and forestalling the economic and ecological consequences of higher electricity prices and higher carbon emissions.
In short, we should adopt a National AI Additionality Framework.
Under this framework, for any significant data center project, companies would need to show how they are securing new, additional clean power from a zero-emissions generation source. They could do this either by building new “behind-the-meter” clean energy to power their operations directly, or by partnering with a utility to pay a specified rate to secure new grid-connected clean energy coming online.
If companies are unwilling or unable to secure dedicated additional clean energy capacity, they would pay a fee into a clean deployment fund at the Department of Energy that would go toward high-value investments to expand clean electricity capacity. These could range from research and deployment incentives for so-called “clean firm” electricity generation technologies like nuclear and geothermal, to investments in transmission capacity in highly congested areas, to expanding manufacturing capacity for supply-constrained electrical grid equipment like transformers, to cleaning up rural electric cooperatives that serve areas attractive to data centers. Given the variance in grid and transmission issues, the fund would explicitly approach its investment with a regional lens.
Several states operate similar systems: Under Massachusetts’ Renewable Portfolio Standard, utilities are required to provide a certain percentage of electricity they serve from clean energy facilities or pay an “alternative compliance payment” for every megawatt-hour they are short of their obligation. Dollars collected from these payments go toward the development and expansion of clean energy projects and infrastructure in the state. Facing increasing capacity constraints on the PJM grid, Pennsylvania legislators are now exploring a state Baseload Energy Development Fund to provide low-interest grants and loans for new electricity generation facilities.
A national additionality framework should not only challenge the industry to scale innovation in a way that scales clean technology, it must also clear pathways to build clean energy at scale. We should establish a dedicated fast-track approval process to move these clean energy projects through federal, state, and local permitting and siting on an accelerated basis. This will help companies already investing in additional clean energy to move faster and more effectively – and make it more difficult for anyone to hide behind the excuse that building new clean energy capacity is too hard or too slow. Likewise, under this framework, utilities that stand in the way of progress should be held accountable and incentivized to adopt innovative new technologies and business models that enable them to move at historic speed.
For hyperscalers committed to net-zero goals, this national approach provides both an opportunity and a level playing field — an opportunity to deliver on those commitments in a genuine way, and a reliable long-term framework that will reward their investments to make that happen. This approach would also build public trust in corporate climate accountability and diminish the risk that those building data centers in the U.S. stand accused of greenwashing or shifting the cost of development onto ratepayers and communities. The policy clarity of an additionality requirement can also encourage cutting edge artificial intelligence technology to be built here in the United States. Moreover, it is a model that can be extended to address other sectors facing growing energy demand.
The good news is that many industry players are already moving in this direction. A new agreement between Google and a Nevada utility, for example, would allow Google to pay a higher rate for 24/7 clean electricity from a new geothermal project. In the Carolinas, Duke Energy announced its intent to explore a new clean tariff to support carbon-free energy generation for large customers like Google and Microsoft.
A national framework that builds on this progress is critical, though it will not be easy; it will require quick Congressional action, executive leadership, and new models of state and local partnership. But we have a unique opportunity to build a strange bedfellow coalition to get it done – across big tech, climate tech, environmentalists, permitting reform advocates, and those invested in America’s national security and technology leadership. Together, this framework can turn a vexing trade-off into an opportunity. We can ensure that the hundreds of billions of dollars invested in building an industry of the future actually accelerates the energy transition, all while strengthening the U.S.’s position in innovating cutting- edge AI and clean energy technology.
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Justice Brett Kavaugh’s decision in the case of Seven County Infrastructure Coalition v. Eagle County, Colorado enlists the nation’s highest court in the campaign to reform federal environmental enforcement.
A new chapter opened for one of the country’s most important environmental laws this week.
On Thursday, the Supreme Court transformed the National Environmental Policy Act, or NEPA, an environmental permitting law that affects virtually every decision that the federal government makes. The quasi-unanimous ruling limits the law’s scope and cuts off future avenues for challenging energy and infrastructure projects under the law.
It could reshape the scale of legal challenges that projects could face in the future, giving the Trump administration — and any successive administration — greater leeway to approve energy projects.
Under NEPA, federal agencies must study the environmental impacts of their decisions before they make them. The strictest studies can run into the hundreds of pages, and they can take years to complete.
But in what was essentially an 8-0 decision, the Court ruled that federal agencies almost never need to analyze the second-order environmental effects of their decisions. In other words, an agency need only study the environmental impact of a project itself — be it a pipeline, a solar farm, or, in the case at issue, a railroad — and not its metaphorically downstream consequences. That remains the case even if a given project might indirectly make it much easier to do something with a big environmental footprint, such as drilling for oil or natural gas.
That is the clearest effect of the ruling. But Justice Brett Kavanaugh, writing for the court’s conservative majority, went much further than that summary alone suggests. In a broad and forceful ruling, he told lower courts that they should stop nitpicking the environmental studies that federal agencies must publish under NEPA to justify their own decision-making. Courts should, instead, defer to federal agencies as much as is reasonable when reviewing a NEPA study. “The goal of the law,” he writes, “is to inform agency decision-making, not to paralyze it.” (Justice Neil Gorsuch recused himself from the case because of his connection to an oil magnate who could have benefited from the ruling.)
That suggests a significant change is coming to how the court system interprets NEPA, a law that is little known to the general public but that plays a defining role in how federal agencies make decisions or approve infrastructure projects. NEPA creates a procedural requirement that federal agencies study the environmental impact of any “major decision,” but that category is so broad that it affects virtually everything the federal government does — spend money, write a new regulation, or approve a new project on federal land. The law and the yearslong lawsuits that it spawns have been blamed for delays in building solar farms and transmission lines, but also oil refineries and gas pipelines.
Kavanaugh’s ruling is “pretty striking for just how strident it is, and how assertively it tries to shut the door on further NEPA litigation,” Nicholas Bagley, a University of Michigan law professor who studies the permitting system, told me. Kavanaugh’s message to lower courts is, in essence, “We keep telling you to knock it off. You keep not listening. So knock it the fuck off,” Bagley said.
At the very least, the ruling suggests that a new phase in the effort to reform the country’s permitting laws has arrived. Now that movement has, in essence, been blessed by the Supreme Court.
The case in question — Seven County Infrastructure Coalition v. Eagle County, Colorado — concerns an 88-mile railroad proposed to connect the Uinta Basin in eastern Utah to the national freight rail network. In 2021, the Surface Transportation Board, a federal agency that regulates railroads, approved the project after completing a roughly 3,600-page study of the railroad’s potential environmental impact.
Almost immediately, environmental groups argued that the board’s study did not go far enough. The ground beneath the Uinta Basin is rich in a waxy and particularly carbon-intensive crude oil; right now, very little of that oil is extracted because the only way to get it out is by truck, along windy mountain roads. The railroad, if built, would allow for much larger volumes of crude to be transported out of the basin and sent to Gulf Coast refineries. Building the railroad, in other words, would indirectly increase local oil extraction, and thereby raise global greenhouse gas emissions.
The board argued that its NEPA study did not need to consider these downstream effects because the board itself does not regulate oil extraction — that is, it regulates the building of railroads, not what gets moved on them.
The eight justices agreed that the board was right: It didn’t have to consider the effects of second-order oil drilling when it approved the railroad. (The railroad remains on hold for other reasons, Sambhav Sankar, a senior vice president at Earthjustice, told me.) But by going further in his ruling, Kavanaugh entered into a running debate about the role of NEPA and other permitting laws in the American economy.
NEPA was never meant to play the commanding role that it does today, Kavanaugh writes. When it was first signed into law in 1970, NEPA was meant to act as a “purely procedural” check on federal decision-making. Agencies were supposed to conduct environmental studies, make their decisions, then move on. But in a famous 1971 ruling concerning a proposed nuclear power plant in Maryland, Judge Skelly Wright of the D.C. Circuit Court of Appeals transformed the law. He found that agencies had to carry out NEPA’s procedural requirements “to the fullest extent possible,” and crucially that courts could reject agencies’ analysis for lack of completeness.
Over the years, as hundreds of cases following Wright’s have added up, NEPA has turned into a “fearsome project killer,” Bagley said. Agencies spend decades of person-power and hundreds of thousands of dollars to prepare fastidious environmental reviews of their decisions. Any new infrastructure project or new policy change — even New York City’s congestion charge — requires some form of NEPA study.
Many conservatives have long opposed the modern NEPA process. But in recent years, some liberals have joined them, arguing that the law primarily slows down clean energy infrastructure and encourages NIMBYism. In practice, they say, NEPA acts as more of hindrance to the clean economy than the old fossil fuel economy: Because of a 2005 law, most oil and gas drilling has been exempt from the NEPA process, while wind farms, solar plants, and other forms of zero-carbon energy infrastructure still have to face it. Environmental groups rebut that the law is a useful tool to slow down fossil fuel pipelines, which do not generally get a NEPA exemption.
Data supports the idea that NEPA holds back clean energy projects, but that is partly because it holds back so many kinds of projects. The R Street Institute, a center-right think tank, has found that 42% of projects stalled by NEPA involved green infrastructure or conservation. Another analysis from the Center for Growth and Opportunity at Utah State University found that it takes more than two years on average for federal agencies to complete environmental reviews of solar and wind projects. Reviews for new hydroelectric or nuclear power plants take even longer.
Kavanaugh, in essence, rejects all of this. NEPA was never supposed to block or hinder large-scale energy or infrastructure projects, he writes; it was meant to “inform agency decision-making, not to paralyze it.”
“A 1970 legislative acorn has grown over the years into a judicial oak that has hindered infrastructure development ‘under the guise’ of just a little more process,” he says. When federal agencies write environmental studies under NEPA, courts should broadly defer to the decisions that they make. And even if an agency gets something wrong in its study or omits something important, that does not mean the entire study — and the decision that it justifies — should be thrown out. (There’s some irony to Kavanaugh’s call for deference to agencies here, given that the Supreme Court rejected the idea that agency regulations deserve deference last year.)
“What’s notable for me is that they didn’t just rule on the case,” Sankar, the Earthjustice lawyer told me. (Earthjustice participated in the case.) “They decided to take a broad swipe at NEPA itself, really unnecessarily.”
Alexander Mechanick, a senior policy analyst at the Niskanen Center and former White House regulatory lawyer, agreed with Sankar about the scope of the ruling. The court’s decision “does communicate over and over again, with a heavy hand, a real desire to get lower courts out of the business of fly specking the environmental impact assessments,” he told me.
It’s this forthrightness that seems to announce a new era of NEPA jurisprudence — one where the courts will accept a level of environmental review that they may have once rejected. In a way, Kavanaugh’s ruling is a fitting sequel to Wright’s 1971 decision in that both set the tone and capture the overarching environmental concerns of their respective eras, Bagley said.
Half a century ago, Judge Wright wanted to make sure that the American public could slow the wave of infrastructure that threatened to overwhelm the country’s landscape. NEPA represented “the commitment of the government to control, at long last, the destructive engine of material ‘progress,’” he wrote, asserting that judges must make sure the law’s goals are not “lost or misdirected in the vast hallways of the federal bureaucracy.”
Now, Kavanaugh seems to fear that progress itself has been held up. He writes that the modern NEPA process, with its cycles of “speculation and consultation and estimation and litigation,” has slowed down infrastructure projects and driven up their cost. He can sound more like an op-ed writer than a legal scholar as he lays out the law’s consequences in the ruling:
Fewer projects make it to the finish line. Indeed, fewer projects make it to the starting line. Those that survive often end up costing much more than is anticipated or necessary, both for the agency preparing the EIS and for the builder of the project. And that in turn means fewer and more expensive railroads, airports, wind turbines, transmission lines, dams, housing developments, highways, bridges, subways, stadiums, arenas, data centers, and the like. And that also means fewer jobs, as new projects become difficult to finance and build in a timely fashion.
In this declaration, Kavanaugh seems to put himself on the side of a growing and tenuously bipartisan movement to reform NEPA. A 2023 debt ceiling bill, signed by President Biden, included modest reforms to the NEPA process, imposing page limits and deadlines on the strictest forms of environmental studies. A more sweeping bipartisan effort to change the law failed last year. Now, House Republicans are taking their own crack at revising NEPA, creating an optional and more expensive permitting “fast track” for developers in the reconciliation bill.
Sankar, whose organization has championed NEPA, argues that the ruling’s practical upshot will be to allow the Trump administration greater leeway to build fossil fuel infrastructure. Kavanaugh’s ruling exhibits “a shocking disregard for the realpolitik of what's going on with this administration in particular,” he said.
“As we’ve been saying all along, NEPA gets demonized as the problem,” Sankar said. With the law’s role reduced, “I think people will see that there are a lot of other things that are the problem here, and taking federal agency expertise out of the equation is not going to hurry things up.” He added that state and local governments often rely on federal NEPA reports for their own analyses, and now those reviews may be less trustworthy.
Bagley, who has generally supported permitting reform efforts, agreed that NEPA is just one of several laws holding back clean energy projects nationwide. But it is an important one, he said, and reducing its scope will likely allow more projects to happen. He added that by changing it, advocates will learn of additional bottlenecks that are holding back construction — including laws that nobody has noticed yet because they were previously less important than NEPA. Advocates can also now focus their attention on state and local barriers to building.
“If you want to look at the permitting burdens across the United States, probably 80% to 90% of them are state and local. This [ruling] isn’t going to inaugurate a new era of American dynamism,” Bagley said. “It’s a small step in the right direction.”
Secretary of Energy Chris Wright canceled 24 decarbonization grants worth $3.7 billion.
Secretary of Energy Chris Wright is clawing back 24 grants for projects to cut emissions from heavy industry after signaling earlier this month that he was reviewing the Biden administration’s award decisions. The total lost funding comes to just over $3.7 billion, and would have helped a wide range of companies, including those in food and beverage production, steelmaking, cement, and chemicals deploy cutting edge clean energy solutions.
The agency, however, decided that the projects “failed to advance the energy needs of the American people, were not economically viable and would not generate a positive return on investment of taxpayer dollars,” according to the announcement.
Most of the cancelled projects were part of the Industrial Demonstration Program, which was created by the Inflation Reduction Act and designed to help commercialize decarbonization solutions that were past the early experimental stage, but were also not quite ready for mass deployment.
Proponents of the program found the DOE’s decision outrageous. “They’re not building an economy — they’re dismantling it and giving away the future of manufacturing,” Evan Gillespie, a partner at the advocacy group Industrious Labs, said in a statement. Canceling these projects is “handing the competitive advantage to Europe, China, Canada, and other nations that are making significant investments in clean manufacturing while leaving the U.S behind,” he added.
The Kraft Heinz Food Company, for example, was supposed to get $172 million to swap out fossil fuel-fired boilers and other heating equipment for electric heat pumps and solar thermal systems at 10 of its factories. “This project seeks to help a major American brand achieve deep decarbonization and serve as an example for other U.S. food and beverage companies to reduce emissions from process heat while reducing energy costs,” the original award from the DOE said. Diageo, the liquor conglomerate, and Kohler, the kitchen and bathroom appliance brand, were also among the awardees.
Cement production is one of the biggest sources of industrial emissions in the world, and also among the most difficult to decarbonize due to an integral chemical reaction that releases carbon into the atmosphere regardless of whether the plant burns fossil fuels. Experts aren’t sure yet what the best solution will be, and the DOE program awarded a variety of projects to test different pathways.
Heidelberg Materials, one of the largest cement companies in the world, was going to get $500 million to demonstrate the first cement plant to capture and sequester its carbon emissions in the U.S. A company called Sublime Systems that’s using an alternative chemistry and electric currents to make cement was supposed to receive $87 million to build its first commercial-scale factory in Holyoke, Massachusetts. Just last week, Sublime signed a deal to supply 623,000 metric tons of zero-carbon cement to Microsoft, in part to support the tech giant’s data center buildout. Another company called Brimstone was awarded $189 million to produce low-carbon cement alongside alumina, the base material used to make aluminum.
“Given our project's strong alignment with President Trump's priority to increase U.S. production of critical minerals, we believe this was a misunderstanding,” a spokesperson for Brimstone told me. “Brimstone's Rock Refinery represents the only economically viable way to produce the critical mineral alumina in the U.S. from U.S.-mined rocks. As the first U.S.-based alumina plant in a generation, our project — which would also make Portland cement — would clear a 'mine-to-metal' path for U.S. aluminum production, fortifying the U.S. critical mineral supply chain and creating thousands of jobs.”
Sublime also shared a statement asserting that its technology would enable the Trump administration’s priorities. “We continue our bipartisan appeal to leaders who recognize that investing in American-invented breakthrough industrial technologies can address multiple policy priorities in tandem to the benefit of Americans from all walks of life,” Sublime said. The company added that it has “prepared for the possibility of this disappointing outcome” and is “evaluating various scenarios that leave our scale-up unimpeded.”
Oil and gas companies were also hit. A $332 million grant to help Exxon switch to low-carbon hydrogen at one of its refineries was canceled, as were $540 million in grants for the energy company Calpine to install carbon capture on its natural gas plants.
“It is hugely disappointing to see these projects canceled — projects that had already progressed through a rigorous, months-long review process by technical experts at DOE,” Jessie Stolark, the executive director of the Carbon Capture Coalition, said in a statement. While Wright said the terminations would generate taxpayer savings, Stolark argued they were depriving Americans of economic benefits. “Every dollar invested by the American taxpayer can lead to up to $4 in economic output through additional supply and material orders, job creation, and broader economic benefits to regional economies,” she wrote, citing a Department of Energy-authored analysis.
None of the awardees responded to my inquiry as to whether they would consider pursuing legal challenges. According to the law under which the program was created, the funding was to be awarded “on a competitive basis,” based on the expected greenhouse gas emission reductions from the project and its potential to provide the greatest benefit to the greatest number of people. Additional criteria in the agency’s application process said it would evaluate projects based on the “degree to which the applicant assesses and demonstrates potential market competitiveness and sustainability for the proposed project, technology, and manufactured product(s) through market analysis and offtake agreements.”
Notably absent from the list of canceled projects is a grant for the steelmaking company Cleveland Cliffs. Earlier this month, I reported that the company was renegotiating its award under the Industrial Demonstration Program. On an earnings call, its CEO said it was abandoning plans to use clean energy and instead looking to use the funds to extend the life of its fossil fuel-fired blast furnace.
If gone unchallenged, the funding is not likely to be re-awarded to other projects. The budget bill that is currently working its way through Congress would rescind any money from the Industrial Demonstrations Program that isn’t under contract.
Especially with carbon capture tax incentives on the verge of disappearing, perhaps At One Ventures founder Tom Chi is onto something.
Technology to suck carbon dioxide out of the air — a.k.a. direct air capture — has always had boosters who say it’s necessary to reach net zero, and detractors who view it as an expensive fig leaf for the fossil fuel industry. But when the typical venture capitalist looks at the tech, all they see is dollar signs. Because while the carbon removal market is still in its early stages, if you look decades down the line, a technology that can permanently remove residual emissions in a highly measurable fashion has got to be worth a whole lot, right? Right?
Not so, says Tom Chi, founder of At One Ventures and co-founder of Google’s technological “moonshot factory,” X. Bucking the dominant attitude, he’s long vowed to stay away from DAC altogether. “If you’re trying to collect carbon dioxide in the air, it’s like trying to suck all the carbon dioxide through a tiny soda straw,” Chi told me. Given that the concentration of CO2 in the atmosphere sits at about 0.04%, “2,499 molecules out of 2,500 are not the one you’re trying to get,” Chi said. “These are deep, physical disadvantages to the approach.”
He’s obviously not the first to realize this. DAC companies and their scientists are well aware of the challenges they face. But investors are generally comfortable taking on risk across a host of different technologies and industries on the premise that at least a few of their portfolio companies will hit it big. As such, a nascent market and challenging physics are not inherent reasons to steer clear. DAC’s potential to secure cash-rich oil and gas industry buyers is pure upside.
Most prominent climate tech venture capital firms — including Lowercarbon Capital, Breakthrough Energy Ventures, Prelude Ventures, and Khosla Ventures — have at least one DAC company in their portfolios. At One Ventures itself has backed everything from producing oxygen on the moon (while also decarbonizing steel) to indoor solar cells and thorium-powered nuclear reactors, a hobbyhorse of techno-optimist nuclear bros and former presidential candidate Andrew Yang. So the fact that Chi won’t touch DAC is no small deal.
His hesitation stems from a matter of scale.To capture that 0.04% of atmospheric carbon, many DAC companies use giant fans to pull in large volumes of air from the atmosphere, which then pass through either a solid filter or a liquid solution that chemically captures the carbon dioxide. Although some companies are pursuing alternate approaches that rely on passive air contact rather than energy-intensive fans, either way, the amount of air that reaches any DAC machine’s so-called “collection aperture” is minuscule “relative to the scale of planet Earth,” Chi told me.
He views this as the core pitfall of the technology. “Half of the [operating expense] of the system is just trying to go after a technical disadvantage that you took on from day one,” Chi said. “By comparison, nature based restorations have enormous apertures,” Chi told me. “Think about the aperture of all the forests on the planet. Think about the aperture of all the soils on the planet, all the wetlands on the planet, the ocean.” His preferred methods of carbon removal are all nature-based. “In addition, their sequestration tends to be photosynthesis-powered, which means we’re not burning natural gas or using grid electricity in order to go make that thing work.”
Nature-based solutions often raise eyebrows in the carbon removal and reduction space, though, bringing to mind highly questionable carbon offsets such as those earned via “avoided deforestation.” The inherent counterfactual — would these trees really have been cut down if we didn’t buy these credits? — is difficult to measure with any certainty, and a 2023 investigation by The Guardian found that the majority of these types of credits are essentially bogus.
This same essential question around measurability plagues everything from afforestation and reforestation to soil carbon sequestration, biochar application, and wetland restoration. It’s extremely difficult to measure how much carbon is stored — and for how long — within complex, open ecosystems. On the other hand, engineered solutions such as direct air capture or bioenergy with carbon capture and storage are simple to quantify and promise permanent storage, making them attractive to large corporate buyers and easy to incentivize via mechanisms such as the federal carbon sequestration tax credit.
When I put all this to Chi, his response was simple. “It’s not an advantage to be able to measure something that can’t solve the problem,” he told me. For a moment, it seemed as if we had hit an intellectual dead end. For now, carbon removals and reductions are mainly driven by the voluntary carbon market, where prices are based on the exact tonnage of carbon removed. Reputable buyers don’t want to be burned again by investing in difficult to quantify offsets, and the current administration certainly doesn’t seem likely to step in with nature-based removal mandates or purchasing commitments anytime soon.
Chi’s answer to this conundrum is “financial enclosure,” essentially a fancy way of saying we need to monetize the value of nature-based systems. In many cases, he admitted, we don’t quite yet know how to do that, at least in a way that benefits the common good. “We figured out how to financially enclose a forest, clear cut it in order to go make board feed and paper and pulp,” he explained. But we don’t know how to financially enclose the benefit of preserving said forest, nor many other ecosystems such as wetlands that serve as highly effective carbon sinks.
At One Ventures has backed companies that work with a variety of buyers — from national governments to mining companies and farmers — that have a financial stake in (or are legally required to care about) ecosystem preservation and restoration. “Sometimes people break nature hard enough that it becomes that obvious. And then they have to go fix it,” Chi told me. “We’re going to invest in the companies that make it possible to go do that at incredibly low cost structures.”
One portfolio company, Dendra Systems, uses robots, drones, and other automated methods to do large scale ecosystem restoration, such as replanting mangroves in parts of the world such as Myanmar and Abu Dhabi where they’ve been cleared for property development or industrial use. The governments of both countries are paying Dendra to do this after realizing that removing mangroves had catastrophic consequences —- destroying subsistence fishing, wrecking erosion breaks — that would cost more to ameliorate than simply replanting the trees.
Then there’s Dalan Animal Health, which is developing vaccines for honeybees as hives become more vulnerable to disease. While not directly focused on carbon removal, the company has successfully “financially enclosed” pollination, as industrial farmers whose crops depend on pollinators will pay for the vaccine. This helps restore healthy ecosystems that can ultimately draw down more carbon. Chi told me that insurance companies have also shown a willingness to pay for nature-based solutions that can help lessen the impact of disasters such as floods or hurricanes.
While the carbon benefits of these companies are simply a bonus, the firm has invested in one pure play removal company, Gigablue. This startup releases engineered particles into the ocean that attract carbon-absorbing phytoplankton. As the particles accumulate more plankton, they sink to the ocean floor, where the carbon is then stored. Using onsite sampling and other advanced techniques, Chi told me that this tech is “very measurable” while also having an “aperture [that] is as wide as the ocean area that we’ve sprinkled things onto.”
Though Chi dislikes the illogical nature of the voluntary carbon market — he would much prefer a “polluter pays” system where money is directed towards nature-based sequestration — he knows that with the markets we have, precise measurability is paramount. So At One Ventures is throwing money at this, too. Portfolio company Chloris Geospatial combines satellite data and machine learning to measure biomass from space and track changes over time, helping legitimize forest-based removals. And Miraterra is focused on novel sensing tech and advanced modeling that allows farmers to calculate the amount of carbon in their soil.
But even if the carbon stored in natural ecosystems never becomes quite as measurable as engineered carbon removals, Chi thinks investors, companies, or governments should still be going all in. “When your volume is so much larger, then you can even throw big error bars around your measurability and still be miles ahead,” he told me.
Many investors say they want it all. You’ll see them funding nature-based and engineered carbon removal companies alike in an effort to take a “portfolio approach” to carbon removal. Chi, unsurprisingly, thinks that’s hogwash. “It’s weasel words to be like, it’s an important part of this portfolio,” he told me. The United Nations Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change also advocates for a diversified approach, without saying DAC itself is strictly necessary. DAC is “not going to do 1%, and it’s going to be massively more expensive than your other 99%,” Chi said. “At some point you’re going to be like, why is this in the portfolio?”
It’s certainly a more blunt assessment of the industry’s viability (or lack thereof) than I’ve heard any investor hazard before. But there may be more folks starting to come around to Chi’s perspective. With government support for DAC in question and the utility of carbon capture tax credits — which only benefit engineered removals — deeply threatened, venture funding for DAC is down over 60% from this time last year, Bloomberg reported.
Rajesh Swaminathan, a climate tech investor at Khosla Ventures told the publication that while many investors have taken bets on direct air capture, “Now, people are stepping back and saying, ‘Why didn’t I look at the economics there?’” Khosla itself is an investor in the DAC company Spiritus.
So what’s a longterm skeptic like Chi to do in this moment of doubt? As he told me, “I’m just going to keep on giving talks on it, and I know that physics is on my side.”