You’re out of free articles.
Log in
To continue reading, log in to your account.
Create a Free Account
To unlock more free articles, please create a free account.
Sign In or Create an Account.
By continuing, you agree to the Terms of Service and acknowledge our Privacy Policy
Welcome to Heatmap
Thank you for registering with Heatmap. Climate change is one of the greatest challenges of our lives, a force reshaping our economy, our politics, and our culture. We hope to be your trusted, friendly, and insightful guide to that transformation. Please enjoy your free articles. You can check your profile here .
subscribe to get Unlimited access
Offer for a Heatmap News Unlimited Access subscription; please note that your subscription will renew automatically unless you cancel prior to renewal. Cancellation takes effect at the end of your current billing period. We will let you know in advance of any price changes. Taxes may apply. Offer terms are subject to change.
Subscribe to get unlimited Access
Hey, you are out of free articles but you are only a few clicks away from full access. Subscribe below and take advantage of our introductory offer.
subscribe to get Unlimited access
Offer for a Heatmap News Unlimited Access subscription; please note that your subscription will renew automatically unless you cancel prior to renewal. Cancellation takes effect at the end of your current billing period. We will let you know in advance of any price changes. Taxes may apply. Offer terms are subject to change.
Create Your Account
Please Enter Your Password
Forgot your password?
Please enter the email address you use for your account so we can send you a link to reset your password:
It’s useful for more than just decarbonization.

Now that President Donald Trump has been officially inaugurated and issued his barrage of executive orders celebrating fossil fuels and shelving climate technologies such as wind energy and electric vehicles, climate tech startups are in a pickle. Federal funding can play a critical role in helping companies scale up and build out first-of-a-kind projects and facilities. So how to work with a government hostile to one of these startups’ core value propositions: aiding in the energy transition?
Talk of clean tech and electrification may be out of vogue, but its utility is not. The potential of many of these companies goes beyond mitigating climate change and into the realm of energy security and resilience — something the Department of Defense is well aware of.
The White House’s climate webpage has gone dark; the Department of Defense’s climate resilience portal lasted a little longer, but that’s now down, too. Once upon a time, though, the site read, “The changing climate is one of many threat multipliers to National Security, which adds complexity to Department of Defense decisions.” That’s a major reason why this agency can’t stop, won’t stop funding climate technologies. Another reason is that many technologies that happen to be good for the planet might also simply be the best tool for the job, meaning the DOD need not utter the word “climate” at all when justifying its decision to deploy new solutions.
“The Defense Department, so far in our experience, has framed things largely in terms of alternative benefits that our technology can have, such as fuel supply chain redundancy and reliability,” Ted McKlveen, co-founder and CEO of the hydrogen storage company Verne, told me. Verne received a $250,000 Small Business Innovation Research grant from the Army last May to work on the development of hydrogen vehicles.
Cindy Taff, CEO of the next-generation geothermal startup Sage Geosystems, told me something similar. “What the military likes to talk about is energy resilience,” she said, though she has heard the DOD tout the climate benefits of her company’s tech, too. Sage currently has multiple DOD engagements, including feasibility studies with both the Army and Navy and a $1.9 million grant to build a demonstration project for the Air Force.
That’s not to say it’s clear what the Department of Defense’s funding priorities under Trump will be. When I contacted the DOD in mid-December to request an interview for this story, a spokesperson initially told me they would help connect me to the right person. But as Trump’s inauguration drew nearer, I got a message saying the agency would have to hold off until it got more guidance, as “it remains to be seen in the next few weeks what direction the new administration is going.”
Regardless of how the priorities shake out, practically every climate-focused company and venture capitalist I talk to emphasizes that their companies will only succeed if they can make or invest in products that can compete on economics and/or quality alone, sans government support. That was true even before a second Trump turn in the White House started to look like an inevitability, and this new administration will at least partially reveal which companies can do that. But while everybody aims to be independent of federal support, they might not actually need to say goodbye to that funding stream, so long as they can tout their economic and performance benefits to the right customers.
Take Pyka, for example. When Michael Norcia co-founded the autonomous electric aircraft company in 2017, the ultimate goal was to design a passenger plane. “We want that to be our legacy, but we were also very, very realistic about the challenges associated with actually doing that,” he told me. So when the DOD took an interest in the company’s commercial cargo planes and their potential ability to deliver supplies in contested environments, the startup jumped at the opportunity, delivering its first aircraft to AFWERX, the innovation arm of the Department of the Air Force, early last year. Interest from such a lucrative government customer helped the company to close its $40 million Series B round in September.
Of course, the decarbonization benefits of electrifying military cargo delivery would be huge. But unsurprisingly, Norcia told me that the DOD primarily frames the opportunity in terms of the capabilities of all-electric or hybrid-electric planes, which could take a variety of fuels, operate quietly, and give off minimal heat, making them more difficult to detect via thermal imaging. Plus, the more equipment is electrified the better, “in terms of having them be able to operate in a highly contested environment, where moving fuel around maybe is not feasible,” Norcia explained. Not to mention the fact that if a manned aircraft is shot down, people die, meaning that in a counterfactual sense, Pyka’s tech is saving lives.
Verne’s North Star is also decarbonization. And given that the military is the world’s largest oil consumer, McKlveen was excited to partner with the Army to put its hydrogen storage tech to use in medium and heavy-duty vehicles. The company stores hydrogen (ideally green hydrogen, produced via renewables-powered electrolysis) at high density as a cold, compressed gas, making it possible to build hydrogen vehicles with greater range and lower cost than has traditionally been done. Similar to Pyka, the Army is enthused that these vehicles would be difficult for adversaries to detect, as they’re quiet and give off little heat. Likewise, McKlveen told me that hydrogen power could replace the Army’s notoriously noisy generators.
While Verne has also partnered with the Department of Energy and its R&D arm, ARPA-E, McKlveen said that working with the DOD has been unique in a few ways. “The key difference is the DOD is a customer and a grant provider. So they can say both what their needs are as a potential customer and represent a potential customer,” he explained. This, along with the agency’s clear, phased approach that it puts companies through, helps bring a level of transparency to the whole process, from pilot to full-fledged military implementation, that McKlveen appreciates.
And lest we forget, “they also have a very large budget,” he told me. For fiscal year 2025, the DOD has requested $849.8 billion, while the DOE, by comparison, has requested a mere $51.4 billion.
“I find military people to be get-it-done type of people,” Taff of Sage Geosystems told me. “So I think that helps to create a sense of urgency and also push things along a lot faster than you would see with maybe other organizations.” Sage uses drilling technologies adopted from the oil and gas industry to access heat for clean electricity production across a wide variety of geographies. This is an especially attractive option for the DOD as the majority of geothermal infrastructure is underground, and thus well protected from attack. And unlike other renewables, this tech can provide 24/7 energy no matter the weather conditions. So it’s no surprise that the military is pouring money into this sector, pursuing partnerships with other big names in the geothermal space such as Fervo Energy and Eavor.
Electric planes, hydrogen, and geothermal all felt intuitively justifiable to me from a defense standpoint, but I was more surprised to learn that the DOD has gotten into the alternative proteins, a.k.a. “fake meat”, industry. Though meat substitutes won’t power tankers or keep the lights on, the Defense Department’s $1.4 million grant to The Better Meat Co. is intended to strengthen the American supply chain. China’s Ministry of Agriculture and Rural Affairs views lab-grown meat as critical to its five-year agricultural plan. “So we don’t want to have the United States be importing clean protein in the way that we’re currently dependent on Asia for our semiconductors and photovoltaics,” Paul Shapiro, the company’s CEO, told me.
The Better Meat Co. produces a protein called Rhiza that’s derived from microscopic fungi, which it then sells as an ingredient to other companies to make either 100% animal-free meat or a meat blend. “This isn’t an alternative protein program. It’s a domestic biomanufacturing program,” Shapiro told me when I asked if military funding for meat substitutes could be at risk under Trump. Looking at some of the other companies that got grants through the same program, he said, “it’s literally like bio manufacturing things for military planes and jet lubricants and chemical catalysts for bullets.” That is, probably not Republican targets for defunding. “It’s clearly solely about wanting the U.S. to be a leader in biomanufacturing for the products that the world is going to depend on in the future.”
The DOD also sees promise in numerous other clean energy technologies, including nuclear microreactors for their portability and ability to provide off-grid energy in remote locations and alternate battery chemistries that could help the U.S. move away from a dependence on Chinese-produced lithium-ion batteries.
But despite the deep well of funding and pragmatic approach to deployment that the Department of Defense offers, agreeing to work with the DOD isn’t always an obvious choice. Many fear their company’s tech could be used in ways and in wars that they oppose. In 2018, for example, thousands of Google employees signed a letter opposing the company’s participation in Project Maven, a partnership with the Pentagon that uses artificial intelligence to improve the accuracy of drone strikes. Supporters of the project said it would lead to fewer civilian deaths, while protestors argued that Google “should not be in the business of war.” Google did not renew the contract. More recently, employees at Microsoft, Google, and Amazon have signed petitions opposing their company’s provision of cloud computing and AI services to the Israeli government.
Norcia noted that most, but not all of his employees were neutral to positive when it came to working with the Air Force, while “for a small minority of the company, it unfortunately was not something that they really wanted to devote their life to.” While he understands that perspective, Norcia does believe that Pyka’s work with the DOD is a net positive for the world. “If you assume wars are going to keep happening — which, unfortunately, I think is the reality — I’d rather have it be the case that they’re more of a robot war than a human war,” he told me. And at the end of the day, passenger planes are still the goal.
As for his team at Verne, McKlveen told me everybody was on board. “The Defense Department has led to some of the biggest innovations of the last century, whether that’s the internet or GPS. And our team knows that.” Plus, even if the DOD doesn’t talk much about the climate benefits of sustainability-focused tech, that doesn’t negate them. A 2019 study revealed that the Pentagon purchases an average of 100 million barrels of oil per year, so from that perspective, “it’s hard to find a bigger customer that we can address,” McKlveen told me.
Norcia agreed. “I think the gains of your impact get turned way up if you’re doing work with the DOD,” he said, “as opposed to, you know, building an app that makes something incrementally more efficient or more addictive.”
Editor’s note: This story has been updated to reflect that DOD’s climate resilience portal has been taken down.
Log in
To continue reading, log in to your account.
Create a Free Account
To unlock more free articles, please create a free account.
A handful of startups are promising better, cheaper, safer water purification tech.
The need for desalination has long been clear in water-scarce regions of the planet. But with roughly a quarter of the global population now facing extreme water stress and drought conditions only projected to intensify, the technology is becoming an increasingly necessary tool for survival in a wider array of geographies.
Typically, scaling up desalination infrastructure has meant building costly, energy-intensive coastal plants that rely on a process called reverse osmosis, which involves pushing seawater through semi-permeable membranes that block salt and other contaminants, leaving only fresh water behind. Now, however, a number of startups are attempting to rework that model, with solutions that range from subsea facilities to portable desalination devices for individuals and families.
They could find potential customers across the globe. Many countries in the Middle East — including Saudi Arabia, Israel, Bahrain, Kuwait, and Qatar — rely on desalination for the bulk of their municipal water. Meanwhile, drought-prone regions from Australia to the Caribbean and California have also turned to the technology to shore up supply. But as the Iran war has underscored, this vital infrastructure is increasingly being treated as a military target, exposing a significant vulnerability in a resource relied upon by hundreds of millions.
One more resilient alternative is to move the plants underwater — making them more difficult to target while also harnessing subsurface pressure to do some of the energy-intensive work of desalination.
“I came up with the idea of using natural pressure to run the process,” Robert Bergstrom, a veteran of the water industry and CEO of the desalination startup OceanWell, told me. That meant “putting the membranes in a place where it’s already 800 pounds [of pressure] per square inch” — e.g. inside pods on the ocean floor, each capable of producing 1 million gallons of freshwater daily. By using the natural pressure of the ocean to drive the reverse osmosis process, this approach cuts energy use by about 40%, he said, thus slashing the system’s largest operating cost: electricity.
OceanWell’s design maintains a lower internal pressure within each pod than the surrounding environment, causing seawater to flow passively inside and push through membranes — just like on land, but without the high-pressure pumps. Compact pumps inside the pods then push the freshwater up a pipeline to the shore, while the resulting brine dissipates in the deep ocean.
The method also helps solve another problem with conventional desalination: environmental impact. Today’s facilities typically produce a more concentrated brine that they discharge at the ocean’s surface, which is more disruptive to marine ecosystems. The plants also frequently cause damage to organisms large and small by either trapping them against water intake screens or pulling them into the plant itself. That’s been a big sticking point when it comes to permitting these facilities, especially in California where the startup is based. OceanWell’s system, Bergstrom said, is able to filter out larger organisms while allowing microscopic ones to pass through the pods and return to the ocean.
The company began a trial last year in partnership with Las Virgenes Municipal Water District in southern California, testing its system in a freshwater reservoir full of marine life to verify its safety. Next it will test its pods in the ocean before undertaking a pilot in a to-be-determined location — California, Hawaii, and Nice in southern France are all contenders. If all goes according to plan, OceanWell will follow that up with a full-fledged commercial system targeted for 2030.
But it’s not the only startup pursuing underwater desalination — or even the one with the most aggressive timeline. Two years ago, Norwegian startup Flocean spun out of the subsea pump specialist FSubsea with a similar technical approach and a plan to deploy its first commercial system off Norway’s western coast this year. Flocean has already logged over a year of testing in the deep ocean, a stage OceanWell has yet to reach.
OceanWell thinks it can differentiate itself by meeting the unusually stringent permitting required in California. “If we can get it done in California, then the rest of the world will follow,” Bergstrom told me, meaning more resilient, more energy-efficient freshwater infrastructure for all. But it’s a high bar. The last major effort to build a desalination facility in the state led to a long-running fight that ended in 2022 with a rejection. Over 100 groups opposed the facility proposed for Orange County, citing risks to marine life, as well as high energy requirements and costs, with many arguing that alternatives — such as conservation and wastewater treatment — would be more superior options.
Megan Mauter, an associate professor of civil engineering at Stanford, thinks the groups may have a point, especially when it comes to overall system costs. The high capex of desalination can be hard to justify in California, she told me, since the state doesn’t need it 100% of the time, only in bad drought years. For example, just a few weeks ago, The Wall Street Journal reported that San Diego County’s desalination plant, by far the largest in California, now has a surplus of desalinated water that it’s looking to sell to drought-ridden Western states such as Nevada and Arizona.
And while desalination startups purport to cut overall system costs, she has her doubts about that. “The energy savings that they’re going to get are offset by some pretty high increased costs of the other elements of their plant designs,” Mauter told me. “In a subsea system, you’ve got these unproven and not mass-manufactured skids. You’ve got subsea installation, and then mooring it, and putting in pipelines that you’ve got to maintain all the way to land. You’ve got to convey water back to shore, which takes energy, and you are going to have significantly higher maintenance burdens in an open ocean environment.”
Despite her reservations, she certainly sees the appeal of non-traditional water sources, “even at costs that would have been totally infeasible a decade ago.” Municipal planners are staring down a future of worsening drought at the same time that states in the Colorado River basin remain locked in contentious negotiations over water rights, debating how to allocate cuts as river flows have declined nearly 20% since 2000. California’s narrow continental shelf also makes it an ideal environment for subsea desalination, as having deep water close to shore allows the system to harness pressure depths while minimizing the length of the pipeline needed to transport freshwater to land. Norway is also favored in this way.
“I don’t know whether the cost gaps can be solved, but I bet that the technology gaps could be solved,” Mauter told me.
Ultimately, she thinks the binding constraint is likely to be regulatory rather than technical. “Permitting is going to be a nightmare unless something fundamentally changes,” she said. Bergstrom told me that OceanWell is currently working with the California State Water Resources Control Board to revise its rules that govern desalination facilities in order to account for new technologies, though how long that process will take is anyone’s guess.
There’s one idea emerging in this ecosystem that largely sidesteps the regulatory constraints that control our land and seas. The startup Vital Lyfe has developed a portable desalination unit roughly the size of a small cooler that allows individuals and households to produce freshwater on demand with reverse osmosis — effectively decentralizing the desalination industry in the same way that the startup’s founders, former SpaceX engineers, helped decentralize internet infrastructure with Starlink.
“We’ve seen this paradigm shift coming out of Starlink that traditional, large, centralized, systems are very expensive,” Vital Lyfe CEO Jon Criss told me. “They’re hard to deploy and hard to scale up when you really need them.”
After raising a $24 million seed round in December, the startup launched its first product a few weeks ago, which retails for $750. At that price point, it’s a great deal for sailors spending days or weeks at sea, but likely too expensive for the individuals in remote communities far from water infrastructure that might need it most. Criss’s goal is to quickly iterate on this first product to bring more affordable models to the market in short order.
Portable desalination devices aren’t anything new in and of themselves — they’ve been used in military, maritime, and humanitarian scenarios for decades. The startup’s breakthrough, Criss explained, is more about manufacturing efficiency than technology. “We went all the way back, looked at why every component was designed and how to redesign it for high rate manufacturing. So we were able to substantially drop the cost of ownership and operation of these things.”
You’ll soon find Vital Lyfe’s product in big box retail stores, Criss said, though he also aims to partner with large-scale desalination facilities and utilities to help boost their output. Either way, the startup is already generating buzz — it’s seen significant inbound interest as of late, as the inherent resilience of its small system stands in sharp contrast to the vulnerability of conventional desalination infrastructure now being targeted in the Middle East.
The company is scaling up to meet the moment, building out a facility in Los Angeles county that Criss said will eventually produce 120 portable units per hour. He’s aiming to start production by summer’s end, ramping to full capacity by October. “Within the next three years we plan to account for about 10% of total membrane production at Vital Lyfe alone,” he told me, referring specifically to the production for the desalination industry.
The future of the industry, of course, could look like any combination of all of these approaches — portable devices, conventional plants on land, and modular systems at sea. What seems certain is that as the globe continues to heat up, so will desalination tech.
Why local governments are getting an earful about “infrasound”
As the data center boom pressures counties, cities, and towns into fights over noise, the trickiest tone local officials are starting to hear complaints about is one they can’t even hear – a low-frequency rumble known as infrasound.
Infrasound is a phenomenon best described as sounds so low, they’re inaudible. These are the sorts of vibrations and pressure at the heart of earthquakes and volcanic activity. Infrasound can be anything from the waves shot out from a sonic boom or an explosion to very minute changes in air pressure around HVAC systems or refrigerators.
Knowing some of these facilities also have the capacity to produce significant audible noise, growing segments of the population’s more tech-skeptical and health-anxious corners are fretting some data centers could be making a lot of infrasound, too. The whizzing of so many large computational machines combined with cooling fans and other large devices creating so many new columns of air flow. Add onto that any rotational onsite power generation – think natural gas turbines, for example – and you get quite a lot of movement that could potentially produce what they say is infrasound.
Some of the virality of this chatter about infrasound and data centers comes from a video about infrasound created by audio engineer and researcher Benn Jordan. Currently sitting at more than 1 million views, this short YouTube film documents claims that some data centers are operating like “acoustic weapons” through infrasound and harming people. Andy Masley, an “effective altruist” writer, has become the chief critic of the Jordan video, getting into a back-and-forth that’s raised the issue to Internet discourse territory.
The Jordan-Masley infrasound debate is honestly a bit of a mess. So I want to be clear: I’m not going to get into the science of whether or not infrasound poses any kind of public health risk in this article. We can get to that later. It’s worth saying that this subject may need more study and that work is ongoing. Also, talking about infrasound at all can make you honestly sound a little wacky (see: this study blaming people seeing ghosts on infrasound). It might also remind you of another panic in the Electric Age: electromagnetic fields, also known as EMFs. Developers of transmission lines and solar projects have long had to deal with people worried about transmission lines and large electrical equipment potentially glowing with invisible, unhealthy radiation.
In late 2024, I wrote about how an RFK Jr. supporter worried about this form of electrical emission was helping lead the fight against a transmission line in New Jersey for offshore wind. Maybe that’s why it didn’t surprise me one bit when the Health and Human Services secretary himself told a U.S. Senate Committee last week that he was asking the Surgeon General’s office to “do either meta reviews” or “base studies” on noise pollution and EMF radiation from data centers “so we can better inform the American public.”
“There’s a range of injuries that are very, very well documented. They’re neurological – very, very grave neurological injuries, cancer risk,” Kennedy Jr. told the Senate Health, Education, Labor and Pensions Committee on April 22 in response to a request from Sen. Josh Hawley of Missouri to study the issue. “The risks, to me, are tremendous.”
There’s also the unfortunate reality that infrasound impacts have previously been a cudgel to slow down renewable energy deployment. Wind turbines create infrasound because of the subharmonic frequencies created when one turbine rotates at a slightly different pace than another, producing a slightly dissonant low frequency noise. Groups like the Heartland Institute proudly list this infrasound as one of the reasons wind energy “menaces man and nature.”
But regardless of merit, this concern is already impacting local government decisions around data center projects, much like how one Michigan county sought to restrict solar energy on the same basis.
In February Adrian Shelley, the Texas director for environmental group Public Citizen, implored the city of Red Rock to study changing their noise ordinance to take into account infrasound. “It has effects on sleep patterns, on stress, on cardiovascular health, and it is potentially a very serious concern,” Shelley said at a February 11 city council discussion on data center rules. “It will not be covered by the city’s noise ordinance, which only deals with audible sound.”
Earlier this month in Calvert County, Maryland, a volunteer for their environmental commission recently told the county government that infrasound needs to be factored into their future data center planning. “It will have significant impacts on our region and the Chesapeake and the Patuxent because infrasound isn’t stopped by walls,” commission member Janette Wysocki, a proud land conservationist, said at an April 15 hearing. “It will keep going, it will move through anything. It’s a very long wavelength. So we need to protect our ecosystem.” Wysocki implored the county to consider whether to adjust its noise regulations.
Around the same time, similar concerns were raised in Lebanon, a small city in east-central Pennsylvania. “It permeates through concrete walls, it permeates through the ground,” Thomas Dompier, an associate professor at Lebanon Valley College, said at an April 16 Lebanon County commission hearing on data centers.
Lastly, last week I explained how Loudon County wants to rethink its noise ordinance to deal with low-frequency “hums” from data centers – a concern echoing those who fret infrasound.
Ethan Bourdeau, executive director of standards at Quiet Parks Intentional and a career acoustician and building standards writer, told me that what makes data centers unique is the “constant drone” of noise that could potentially carry subharmonic frequencies. Bourdeau said cities or counties could possibly factor concerns about infrasound into noise ordinances to address those who are most concerned. One way they could do it is by changing how decibels are weighted in the government’s measurements. A-weighting decibel meters are a common form of sound measurement geared toward perceptible noise. Using different systems, like C-weighting or G-weighting, would avoid ways that A-weighting can filter out sub-hearing frequencies.
“These are reporting and weighting systems where a sound level meter taking background noise receives all the unweighted sound and then you apply all these filters afterwards, like an EQ curve,” Bourdeau said.
So I guess if those most concerned about infrasound have their way, a lot of country commissioners and local elected leaders will be heading to the mixing booth.
And more on the week’s top fights around project development.
1. King County, Washington – The Moss Landing battery backlash is alive and well more than a year after the fiery disaster, fomenting an opposition stampede that threatens to delay a massive energy storage project two dozen miles east of Seattle.
2. Prince Williams County, Virginia – It was a big week for data center troubles. Let’s start with Data Center Alley, which started to show cracks this week as data center developer Compass announced it was pulling out of the controversial Digital Gateway mega-project.
3. Washtenaw County, Michigan – Turning to Michigan, real estate firm Sansone abandoned plans to purchase land owned by Toyota to build a hyperscale data center campus after the local township instituted a 6-month moratoria.
4. Okeechobee County, Florida – The backlash to data centers is killing projects in deep-red Florida too, as this county’s commission decides to kill a 205-acre prospective data center campus led by a state college.
.