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.
The move by University of Pennsylvania researcher Danny Cullenward intensifies a debate over integrity at the carbon accounting organization.
A well-known scientist has resigned from the independent oversight board of the Greenhouse Gas Protocol, renewing questions about the integrity of one of the world’s most important arbiters of carbon emissions standards.
Danny Cullenward, who is also an economist and lawyer, notified the organization’s leadership on Monday that he no longer has “any confidence in the Protocol’s governance structure,” according to his resignation letter, which he posted publicly. He had previously tried to sound alarms about the organization and its lack of transparency in a paper he published in April.
Cullenward’s resignation letter goes a step further, accusing the Protocol of covering up an internal complaint he and a fellow board member filed, and of handing the reins of at least one of the organization’s standards to “a secret, industry-dominated drafting process.”
The Greenhouse Gas Protocol declined to comment on Cullenward’s resignation or answer questions about his account of events leading up to it.
The Protocol launched in the late 1990s as a joint project of the World Resources Institute, an environmental group, and the World Business Council for Sustainable Development, an industry association. Today it is the world’s leading standard-setter for corporate carbon accounting. More than 22,000 businesses rely on its methodologies to calculate and report their emissions. While adhering to the Protocol’s standards is still mostly voluntary, it will soon become a requirement under European Union and California disclosure rules.
Cullenward’s accusations arrive in the middle of a major revamp at the organization that began in 2022, designed specifically to improve the integrity of its corporate accounting standards. As part of the overhaul, it also put in place a new governance structure to improve transparency and accountability. Technical working groups made up of external experts would develop proposals to revise the standards to more accurately capture companies’ full carbon footprints, and then an Independent Standards Board would review and ultimately approve them. The Protocol appointed Cullenward to the independent board as one of its inaugural members in September 2024.
Cullenward’s reasons for leaving, as described in his letter, center around the development of a forest accounting standard to be used by companies that manage forests or have wood in their supply chains. The technical working group assigned to develop the standard could not reach a consensus, and ultimately submitted two competing proposals to the Board. Members associated with landowner groups and the forest products industry authored one of them, while the group’s research scientists primarily wrote the other.
According to Cullenward’s letter, as well as memos written by the academic scientists in the working group reviewed by Heatmap, the industry proposal, known as the “managed land proxy” method, would enable companies to claim they were removing carbon from the atmosphere when they cut down trees or used virgin wood. “This is the opposite of what physically happens when a forest is cut down,” Cullenward writes.
The method produces this counterintuitive result by allowing companies to take credit for all the carbon sucked up by the forests they manage, or in some cases by all the forests in a region, even if the company had no part in boosting that sequestration. If companies were to apply this accounting method to their products, Cullenward adds, not only would making virgin paper appear to involve zero carbon emissions, it would also apparently help to restore the climate. It would also look much more advantageous to the climate than producing recycled paper.
His concern is not just with this proposal, but also with how the Protocol handled a complaint filed by a proponent for the managed land proxy approach that challenged the scientists’ expertise. In response, the organization quietly solicited opinions from additional outside scientists on the two proposals.
Cullenward’s letter asserts that this was a decision made solely by the board’s chair, Alexander Bassen, alongside Protocol staff and without the rest of the board’s input. He writes that when these external comments were later shared with him and his fellow board members, the authors were “presented as neutral arbiters of a contested scientific debate,” even though they had been specifically referenced in the complaint as supporters of the managed land proxy approach.
Cullenward says he tried to “pursue internal accountability” but faced retaliation. In February he and another board member, an Australian forest ecologist named Heather Keith, filed an official complaint. The Protocol enlisted an outside mediator to resolve their dispute, but Cullenward says the hired adjudicator failed even to read the full complaint before meeting with him. The mediator also did not review any of the recordings of key board meetings referenced in the complaint, and was barred from speaking to technical working group scientists.
Cullenward and Keith eventually received a response to their complaint from the mediator but were told they could not share it, and the matter was deemed closed. According to a spokesperson for the Greenhouse Gas Protocol, who reached out to me with an update on the matter in late May, an independent review found “some process shortcomings” but “no material breach” of the organization’s rules or of due process. They added that “recommendations to address process shortcomings and strengthen conflict resolution are being reviewed and implemented.”
I reached out to Keith, who told me in an email that she was “deeply concerned about Danny’s resignation.” She praised his “wide-ranging expertise” in carbon accounting, law, and governance, and his “extensive contributions” to the board’s discussions. “One of the most valuable assets in a Board member is his demonstrated independence in making judgements that is based on a sound knowledge of climate science,” she wrote. The board “should be encouraging more people with Danny’s expertise and motivation for climate action to benefit the global community, not losing such valuable people.”
Cullenward’s primary concern moving forward is a new partnership between the Greenhouse Gas Protocol and the International Organization for Standardization, which establishes technical specifications for a range of industries and purposes, to unify their emissions accounting rules. The two groups’ first joint undertaking is to develop a standard for assigning emissions to specific products, which will include forest carbon accounting.
While the Greenhouse Gas Protocol has publicly listed the members it assigned to the joint working group, the ISO is under no obligation to do so. Cullenward asserts in his letter that the new joint groups “operate with confidential membership that is heavily tilted in favor of industry interests.” He says a representative from the World Business Council for Sustainable Development told him that the group may draw on an existing ISO standard based on the managed land proxy approach.
Meanwhile, over a year after the corporate forest accounting technical working group submitted its proposals, the Independent Standards Board is now contemplating kicking off a seven-month public comment period on the recommendations, Cullenward writes. He concludes that this elongated comment period is just for show, and that the issues “have already been delegated” to the joint working group with the ISO.
I asked the Greenhouse Gas Protocol how it planned to ensure “transparency and accountability for its stakeholders,” as it has previously promised, when the membership and meeting minutes of the joint ISO working groups are not disclosed to the public. I also asked, for the second time, whether the organization plans to publish meeting minutes from Independent Standards Board meetings — a requirement under the board’s governing rules that it has not followed. The Protocol declined to answer.
The U.S. electric vehicle maker’s make-or-break model, the R2, is finally here — and it’s pretty fun to drive.
The attainable Rivian is here, and not a moment too soon.
It’s been nearly a decade since the U.S.-based startup revealed its prestige R1T pickup truck and R1S SUV, earning plenty of “the next Tesla” hype and becoming lots of people’s favorite electric car brand. But with those R1 vehicles starting around $70,000 — and with nicer versions hitting six digits — lots of would-be drivers have been waiting for R2, the scaled-down vehicle first announced in 2024 and meant to take Rivian to the masses.
Now the moment has arrived: On Tuesday, Rivian began shipping the first version of the R2. I had the privilege of test-driving the vehicle that will make or break the brand last week on the highways and mountain roads outside Park City, Utah. If my experience is any indication, R2 is up to the job of making Rivian mainstream.
“A word we used really heavily throughout the development of R1 was … inviting,” CEO and founder RJ Scaringe said to the journalists at last week’s event. “We use that in the sense of inviting people to use it, inviting people to get it dirty, inviting people to have new experiences and new adventures in it. But by virtue of it being a flagship product, its price wasn't as inviting as we wanted. And so R2 really in many ways is the culmination of the full brand promise.”
First, the facts: R2 looks at first glance like a smooshed version of Rivian’s big SUV, with the same signature headlights and basic shape. It’s a little shorter, a little narrower, and 2,000 pounds lighter than its big cousin, seating five people as opposed to the seven that can cram into R1S. Range from the 88-kilowatt-hour battery is in the high 200 miles and tops 330 miles for some editions.
The stat that matters most is price. The first R2s out of the gate will cost around $58,000, and gradually less expensive tiers will arrive later this year and into next, culminating in the $45,000 base version at a yet-to-be-determined date. No, an EV around 50-grand doesn’t sound like a car for the common man. But as Scaringe noted, that is now the average price for a new car in America, which certainly makes R2 attainable for millions more drivers.
It’s also a lot of car for that money. Thanks to its boxiness, R2 feels like it has loads of room on the inside. Because of an improved battery shape, there’s actually more legroom for the rear passengers compared to R1. Double gloveboxes and a pretty big frunk add to the available storage space. (Rivian even fixed a pet peeve of R1 owners who couldn’t fit their monstrous water bottles in a convenient spot.)
Yet R2 doesn’t drive big. It rides high and offers the driver a wide view, but it’s not a tank like R1, which I found difficult to park in compact spaces like the one at my home. Its 5,000-pound weight is still a lot of heft (a Tesla Model Y is more like 4,000 to 4,400 pounds), but the car still feels zippy. The mass is simply overwhelmed by electric power, especially in the higher-end versions Rivian let us drive in Utah.
As the engineers on site noted, developing the R2 was mostly an exercise in subtraction — not just shrinking the physical size from the R1, but also making R2 cheaper to build by removing miles of wiring (something the brand visualized at the event by showing off bundles of copper in the style of a rubber band ball, representing all that had been cleaved). But R2 needed its own bells and whistles so it would feel desirable on its own and not appear to be merely a discount Rivian.
Those additions include rear windows that go all the way down, unlike the halfway that’s common in most passenger cars; the rear windshield descends, too. A fun button up front marked with a “5” will lower all four passenger windows plus the back windshield at once. In response to complaints about every function running through the center touchscreen, Rivian put in some buttons — or, rather, some wheels. On each side of the steering wheel, reachable by a person’s thumbs, are haptic “halo” buttons that can be pushed side to side or spun. These are not at all the subtle, slight wheels you’d find a Tesla, but rather beefy spinners meant to feel rugged and easy to manipulate.
During testing, I struggled with how hard to push them and in what direction to enter the desired mode that could then be adjusted by spinning the wheel, be it climate, music, drive mode, or the positioning of the side mirrors. But something tells me Rivian will refine the haptic feedback as R2 owners put miles on their vehicles. And even complicated or layered menus become second nature once it’s your own car.
Many of these vehicles will never go off-road, but Rivian still had to prove the R2’s backcountry bona fides. This is the adventure EV brand, after all, and part of the pitch for R2 is how much more it can do than a Tesla Model Y or Chevy Equinox EV. Keen to prove the point, Rivian swapped us halfway through the test drive into R2s with their tire pressure halved to make them mountain-ready, then directed us onto the rutty, boulder-pitted roads of Wasatch Mountain State Park to wade through water crossings and up to the top of a plateau. Here the touchscreen becomes an adventurer’s dream, displaying the vehicle’s moment-by-moment elevation, pitch, compass direction, and much more. Tap into the camera system and it can bring up the close-up view of what’s right in front of the vehicle and shows both front wheels to help navigate around pointy rocks and cavernous ruts.
R2 never wavered or felt as if it had taken on too much. It has all the capability you’d need as a trail warrior, and more than enough for the affluent professional who yearns to become outdoorsy. After so many decades when the world’s truly rugged vehicles were also low-mile-per-gallon polluters, it feels like a breakthrough just getting this much can-do spirit out of an electric car.
More salient for the urban dweller is Rivian’s big push into autonomous driving. As we noted in December after the brand’s AI and Autonomy Day, R2 is the company’s big play in that race: It vastly ups the amount of road open to Rivian’s hand-free autonomous driving feature works, raising it to about 3.5 million miles in the U.S. The company also told us that by the end of the year it would introduce point-to-point service, where the vehicle really can drive itself for the duration of a trip, with more autonomous features potentially on the way. During the test drive, the hands-free tech felt steady and assured on twisty local roads.
Rivian has a long way to go here, given Tesla’s major head start in developing vehicle autonomy. One big asset it does have is the thousands of drivers who’ve bought R1s and who opted to share their driving data with the company, helping it build a dataset that maps and models the world. The less expensive R2 should get many more people into a Rivian vehicle and accelerate that learning curve. That, plus the eventual addition of a LIDAR sensor to some models, will allow that kind of full autonomy that R2 will use when it goes into service as an Uber robotaxi following the ride-sharing company’s $1.2 billion investment earlier this year.
It’s difficult to overstate the importance of this vehicle for Rivian, or for the electrification of the American car. For the brand, this must be its Model 3 moment, where it leaps from a niche brand selling luxe status symbols to one that builds a huge number of EVs — and in the process hopefully becomes financially stable after years in the startup “valley of death,” between promise and profitability. Billion-dollar investments from the likes of Volkswagen and Amazon buoyed Rivian during those years; now R2 has to deliver on them.
As for the U.S. EV market as a whole? It also needs the R2. New EV sales are sagging in America, even amid gasoline price shocks caused by the Iran War. A $50,000 Rivian isn’t exactly the solution to the auto industry’s affordability crisis, but Scaringe argued that U.S. buyers also lack great choices. The industry leaders — Tesla’s Model 3 and Model Y — have been on the market since 2018 and 2020, respectively, with subtle tweaks and update since then. New offerings from legacy carmakers like Chevy and Toyota are a welcome change. Still, they feel like a Chevy or Toyota that’s been electrified, not like a vehicle built from the ground up to deliver on the promise of what a great EV can be.
Yet even now, the learnings from the EV startup world that led to R2 — dramatically simplified manufacturing to bring down costs, advanced touchscreen infotainment with elegant interfaces, EVs built fully integrated from the ground up rather than adapted from existing gas cars — are already influencing the rest of the industry. Just look at what Ford’s skunkworks operation is up to as the Detroit giant tries to catch up in the EV race starting next year. A successful R2 would push the car industry further in this direction.
R2 succeeds in bringing the feeling of a lusted-after EV to the five-seat, fully capable SUV, which has become the de facto family car of this country. And for all of Rivian’s focus on catching up in the AI and autonomy race, R2 still feels like a car you’re supposed to love to drive yourself, whether that’s to work, to grandma’s, or to the top of a mountain. It is, indeed, inviting. With Tesla having publicly abdicated its role of building great EVs for humans to drive, Rivian is now primed to seize the position.
Current conditions: China has triggered emergency warnings across six provinces as heavy rainfall floods the countryside • A magnitude 7.8 earthquake struck the Philippines, leaving at least 32 dead and more than 100 injured in building collapses • Temperatures in Albuquerque, New Mexico, are rising near 100 degrees Fahrenheit.
On Tuesday, Tennessee is set to become the first state in the nation with its own regulatory framework for nuclear fusion plants. You may be wondering, why Tennessee? The two-word answer: Oak Ridge. The Volunteer State has operated as a hub for nuclear energy research and development for more than 60 years, feeding off both the Oak Ridge National Laboratory and the Tennessee Valley Authority’s capacity to help commercialize new technologies. Now state regulators are establishing the first dedicated rulebook for building future fusion plants. “Tennessee has been named the top state in the nation for nuclear energy industry growth, and for good reason,” David Salyers, the commissioner of the Tennessee Department of Environment and Conservation, said in a statement. “This latest step supercharges our reputation as the global hub for nuclear innovation and positions us as the most responsive state to new advanced nuclear companies clamoring to call Tennessee home.”
It’s not the only government betting that the various attempts to commercialize fusion as an energy source will pan out in the near future. On Monday, NucNet reported that the British government had drafted legislation to “create conditions” for deploying fusion technology.
Typically, the rule of thumb in journalism is that the answer to a question headline is almost always “no,” otherwise the headline would simply state the fact. But this one is a genuine open question that climate-tech investor Shanu Mathew raised Monday in a post on X: Could PJM Interconnection, the nation’s largest grid operator, break apart? The speculation traces back to a Bloomberg article from last week in which unnamed federal officials suggested that the operator, which runs the grid from the Illinois prairie to the Jersey Shore, could split up as data centers put strain on the 13-state system’s electricity supplies.
The talks are happening as two of the largest utilities in PJM, NextEra and Dominion, discuss a potential $420 billion megamerger that would create, among other things, a storage giant, as Heatmap’s Matthew Zeitlin reported. The discussions are also occurring against the backdrop of major artificial intelligence companies going public, with ChatGPT-maker OpenAI following Claude-developer Anthropic in filing a confidential S-1 with the Securities and Exchange Commission this week.

In the United States, you can’t build a single commercial nuclear reactor in a decade. In China, you can apparently double the size of your entire fleet in that time. Between 2016 and 2024, China’s nuclear generation capacity soared by 76%, according to a new Energy Information Administration analysis. That’s equal to 24 gigawatts. In 2025, China added another 1.1 gigawatts, followed by 2.2 gigawatts more this year just through May. The country has at least 36 other reactors under construction, accounting for nearly half of the world’s ongoing nuclear projects.
Sign up to receive Heatmap AM in your inbox every morning:
Just five years ago, the global aviation industry made a landmark pledge to achieve net zero emissions by 2050. Now the head of the industry’s global body says that goal is likely already out of reach. Willie Walsh, the director of the International Air Transport Association, told The Guardian that “hope was fading fast” and a new “realistic timeline” needed to be established. More than half of the planned decarbonization of air travel relied on the development of sustainable aviation fuels that remain nascent at best. Money is pouring into the technology, as Heatmap’s Katie Brigham reported. But uptake so far “is about 0.2% of fuel,” Nicole Cerulli, a research associate for transportation and logistics at the market research firm Cleantech Group, told her.
One cold autumn morning three years ago, I made my way across downtown Ulaanbaatar to an American-style diner called Millie’s Espresso to meet with a Mongolian mining executive who was thrilled about Western countries’ recent investments in his industry. Landlocked between Russia and China, the geographically huge but sparsely populated democracy hoped to shore up its sovereignty by forging deals with the U.S., Europe, South Korea, and Japan to satisfy soaring demand for minerals. Already Oyu Tolgoi, one of the world’s largest copper mines, was underway in the country’s Gobi desert south, and that year the French government inked a deal to start producing lithium and uranium in Mongolia. Now the uranium part of that agreement is moving forward. On Monday, World Nuclear News reported that the French state-backed nuclear fuel producer Orano had broken ground on its first mine in the Central Asian nation. The project raised some eyebrows among Mongolians who complained that Soviet-era Russian uranium mining left behind nasty pollution, and the terms of Ulaanbaatar’s deal with Rio Tinto over the new copper mine have been politically contentious. But the sprawling, smog-choked capital city — the only major urban development in the rural nation — is in need of more power.
Russia had promised to help meet that power by building Mongolia’s first nuclear power plant. A politically well-connected businessman from Ulaanbaatar, whom I caught up with last night over text to ask about the mood in the country, said Moscow’s bid had drawn more positive attention than France’s plans to mine fuel for their own reactors. “In Ulaanbaatar, we experienced electricity shortages last winter that caused apartment heating to stop during the winter. It was crazy,” the executive told me. While he’s typically a critic of the ruling Mongolian People’s Party, which formed out of the old Communist Party apparatus following the fall of the Soviet Union, the executive told me the government’s actions were “good and brave” steps to “diversify investment in Mongolia.”
I hate to close out on a bad note, but this one felt important to include: America’s screwworm problem is getting worse. On Monday, the U.S. Department of Agriculture confirmed the first case of the flesh-eating parasite in a dog in New Mexico, in addition to four cases in total in Texas. “This situation is evolving, and we expect new information to emerge as our investigation continues,” Dudley Hoskins, USDA’s under secretary for marketing and regulatory programs, said in a statement.