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With its Orchard One project in Wyoming, Spiritus thinks it can capture carbon from the air for less than $100 per ton.

Pretty much every startup that’s building machines to suck carbon dioxide from the atmosphere and stash it underground has claimed it will be able to get its costs down to less than $100 per ton — eventually.
But a new contender in the race, a San Francisco-based company called Spiritus, is making a compelling case that it could get there faster. On Tuesday, Spiritus announced plans to build its first direct air capture, or “DAC” project in central Wyoming, nicknamed Orchard One. The company will start small but ultimately wants to expand the facility to capture 2 million tons of CO2 per year.
Achieving that scale at the sub-$100 price point would be game-changing for direct air capture, which is still far too expensive to be a viable climate solution. Most companies in the field are cagey about revealing their current costs, but the industry-average price is believed to be between $600 and $1,000 per ton.
So what makes Spiritus different? Here are three reasons we’ll be keeping an eye on the company.
Spiritus’ project will not look anything like the industrial-style shipping containers full of fans that have become the defining form factor for DAC plants. The company’s central innovation is a squishy white ball that founder Charles Cadieu describes as an artificial lung.
“While it looks kind of simple, it's actually a breakthrough material that has an incredible amount of surface area,” he told me over Zoom, while holding one up and squeezing it like a stress relief toy. “And it has holes all over it that allow the CO2 to go right inside.” Though it’s about the size of a tennis ball, its branch-like interior structure has a surface area equivalent to a tennis court, he said.

The ball is made of a proprietary material that selectively attracts CO2 molecules. As air wafts through it, CO2 sticks to its interior surfaces like a magnet. Spiritus will manufacture millions of these balls, lay them out on trays, and stack the trays on tree-like rigs — hence the name Orchard One. Concept images depict a small colony of cylindrical structures that will house the trays, almost like miniature Wilco towers, sprouting up amid the Wyoming sagebrush.

After a few hours exposed to the elements, the balls, which Spiritus prefers to call “fruits,” will be full of carbon. The company will then transfer them to a separate chamber and apply heat, causing them to expel the CO2. That stream of carbon will be compressed and delivered to an underground CO2 storage well, while the fruits will be returned to their towers to live the same day over and over again.
Though the concept is somewhat whimsical, the company is making serious claims about its cost and performance. The biggest expenses for direct air capture projects are materials and energy, and Spiritus has made significant improvements on both fronts. Cadieu told me they can manufacture their sorbent for a tenth of the cost of other, “state of the art sorbents that are out there today,” and that “furthermore, it’s 10 times as effective” at capturing carbon. In other words, Spiritus claims it can capture more carbon from the air at a time, using fewer, cheaper materials than other methods.
Since the capture part of the process is passive, the company doesn’t need to use energy-intensive fans to filter the air. Also, the temperature required for the second step, where heat is applied to the balls to release the CO2, is lower than 212 degrees Fahrenheit — low enough to be generated using electricity. Cadieu said Spiritus plans to procure energy from renewable sources so that the entire process has net-negative greenhouse gas emissions.
Spiritus isn’t the only company with a low-cost sorbent and passive capture method. Notably, the DAC process pioneered by Heirloom, which opened its first commercial-scale plant in California last year, shares those features, but it requires much higher temperatures — 1,650 degree Fahrenheit — to isolate the captured carbon.
Though Spiritus still has to prove this all works as promised in the real world, the company has earned an early vote of confidence from Frontier, the coalition of tech companies with a $1 billion fund to help carbon removal scale. Last year, Frontier paid Spiritus $500,000 to buy its first 713 removal credits, each of which represents a ton of carbon that will be permanently sequestered underground. (The money is more of a development grant than anything indicative of the company’s costs.)
“We look for companies that learn and iterate quickly, and we were impressed by what we saw from Spiritus when they applied,” Joanna Klitzke, the procurement and ecosystem strategy lead at Frontier, told me. “And actually, since then, the team has made really strong improvements and steady progress on both their sorbent and their process performance.”
According to the company’s application for funding from Frontier, Spiritus estimates that for the first phase of Orchard One — when the project is capturing less than 2,000 tons per year — its levelized cost per ton of carbon will be about $149, not including the cost of burying the carbon underground. By phase two, at a scale of about 500,000 tons per year, it expects to get that cost down to less than $100. And by phase three, at the full scale of 2 million tons per year, it expects to achieve sub-$75 capture.
Cadieu told me the company is already in talks with large buyers to purchase carbon removal from Orchard One for “far less” than the per-ton price Frontier paid.
Spiritus doesn’t expect to have phase one of the project up and running until 2026. But it already has a running start. The land lease is locked down, the underground pore space where the company will inject the captured carbon has been identified, and a monitoring well is already scheduled to be drilled — according to its Frontier application.
Wyoming has proved to be a relatively welcoming place for this emerging industry. Orchard One is joining another direct air capture plant already under development in the southwest part of the state called Project Bison. Cadieu gave three reasons the project landed there: There’s a local workforce with relevant experience from the oil and gas industry, the state has the ideal geology to trap the captured carbon underground, and Wyoming has been at the forefront of developing clear regulations for carbon sequestration. It was one of the first states to gain authorization from the Environmental Protection Agency to permit carbon storage wells, and as of December had already permitted three. Another advantage in Wyoming is abundant renewable energy from wind farms.
Spiritus has yet to reveal exactly where in Wyoming Orchard One will be built, but Cadieu told me he has been in close contact with officials at the town, county, and state levels, and that the reception has been enthusiastic. He said the project will create “hundreds of jobs during construction” and “many dozens of jobs” when the facility is operating, and that the company will deliver a portion of its profits back into the community.
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There is a heat wave in Europe, the world’s fastest warming continent. And so, as you may have heard, a perennial topic of online climate discourse has returned: Why don’t more Europeans have air conditioning?
I’m partially convinced this is psy op, or at least a figment of how social media organizes attention. I have a hypothesis that various “For You” page algorithms, especially that of the social network X, began to reward content that performed unusually well across national borders a few years ago. Since then, the amount of America vs. Europe content has surged. (Of course, writers have been comparing American and European lifestyles for much longer than that.)
Suffice it to say, though: It’s a fraught topic. I’ve assumed that as extreme heat gets worse as the climate changes, Europeans will simply get on with it and install AC, much as Americans in the Pacific Northwest have done. Yet there are cultural and regulatory obstacles to AC’s growth in Europe.
I’m sure I’ll write about it in the future, but for now I want to get a grip on the facts themselves. And so as a Friday special, I present to you — the facts about European AC, as I understand it:
Thanks so much for reading, and talk soon.
The movement against data centers is raising up a raison d'etre of the anti-renewables movement: protecting would-be farmland.
Farm owners and operators across the U.S. are winning national headlines almost every week for rejecting big dollar offers from data center developers. In Hanover County, Virginia, protestors are chanting “Grow Tomatoes, Not Data Centers.” In Pennsylvania and elsewhere, Republican legislators are mulling proposals to block the sale of so-called “prime farmland” for data center development. In Texas, the fight over data center development has engulfed the race for the state’s ag commissioner seat. In the Midwest, where agriculture reigns supreme, statewide races and congressional campaigns are slowly but surely being defined by the issue. Like in Nebraska where Austin Ahlman, an independent candidate running for Congress in Nebraska’s first district, told me he believes the data center backlash is reflective of a populist politics that broadly criticize elites and top-down control of the economy: “I think sometimes people misunderstand the anxieties of rural Americans when it comes to these data centers because a lot of their fears are about control long term.”
Unlike the farmland backlash around renewable energy development, the loudest critics are on the anti-monopolist left. On Wednesday, the prominent opposition group Food and Water Watch signaled farmland could soon be a watchword in the national data center debate – in a fashion analogous to what we’ve seen with renewable energy. The organization’s blog post entitled “The AI Data Center Boom Is Coming for Farmers” declared data centers verboten because of the threat they posed to “small and midsized family farmers.” Mitch Jones, deputy director of the campaign outfit, said he believes the threat to farmland is “a compelling reason to oppose data center development” but that his organization’s fight is primarily focused on protecting small business owners and an anti-monopoly sentiment.
“If data centers are coming into their areas, this puts even more pressure on them. It drives up the cost of their electricity, just as it does anyone else. It competes with them for water for crops, and it affects the value of their land in a perverse way,” Jones told me.
None of this should be surprising. An agricultural workforce has always been a good barometer for figuring out if a community will accept new infrastructure of any kind. We’ve seen as much time and time again with renewable energy, carbon capture, fossil energy and mining, just to name a few industries.
This same rule is true with data centers. In April, county commissioners in Kosciusko County, Indiana, unanimously rejected a Prologis data center; nearly 90% of acreage in Kosciusko County is being actively farmed, according to the Heatmap Pro database. Linn County, Iowa, in February enacted a rule severely restricting data center development in unincorporated areas; almost three-fourths of the land is used by the ag sector. A potential Amazon facility is causing heartburn in Clinton County, Ohio; nearly all land in the county is used for farming and utility-scale solar development has a recent history of conflict with landowners.
To be candid, I’m struck by the similarity in the backlash over siting data centers on farmland – a resemblance so close that some counties are starting to restrict renewable energy and data center development on farmland at the same time. This week, Eau Claire County, Wisconsin created a new “farmland preservation plan” discouraging utility-scale solar energy and data centers on any potential farmland. (More than 40% of land in this county is currently being used for farmland, according to Heatmap Pro.)
Jones at Food and Water Watch said his organization taking on the “protect farmland” mantle had nothing to do with the success this argument has had against renewable energy. “That thought never entered my head,” he told me, adding that if communities respond to the data center backlash by taking steps that short-circuit solar and wind too, that’s “a coincidence.”
I kept pressing. What if the pivot to farmland protection leads to more communities restricting renewable energy along with the data centers? “If you’re looking for a reason to oppose solar and wind, you can come up with that without having to attach data centers to it,” Jones said. “We’ve seen rural communities oppose solar and wind before data centers blew up across the country. It’s nothing new.”
And more of the week’s top news around project fights.
1. Virginia Beach, Virginia – The right-wing interest group lawsuit against Dominion Energy’s Coastal Virginia offshore wind is now dead, concluding one of the wackier tales of the Trump 2.0 energy era.
2. Box Elder County, Utah – Call it the Box Elder County massacre.
3. Davidson County, Tennessee – We have the latest updates in the Nashville Zoo data center drama and they’re a doozy and a half.
4. Clark County, Ohio – Yet another utility-scale solar farm is in the Ohio state permitting graveyard.