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The effort to measure companies’ carbon footprints is remarkably imprecise — and suddenly more important than ever.

Large companies generate a gargantuan amount of carbon-dioxide pollution.
Take the big-box retailer Costco. During the financial year 2020, it emitted 144.5 million metric tons of carbon dioxide — a number on par with the Philippines’ annual emissions. Nike pumped out the equivalent of 11 million metric tons of carbon during the same period, a footprint roughly equal to Zimbabwe’s. Apple, meanwhile, was somewhere on the order of Estonia.
You’ve probably seen data like this before. But here’s a question: How do companies actually arrive at these numbers? How did Costco know its carbon footprint in 2020? Carbon dioxide and other climate-warming gases are invisible, potent even in trace amounts, and constantly absorbed and produced by hundreds of billions of different organisms and chemicals around the world. Costco alone directly or indirectly choreographs the actions of millions of people and things: sailors and longshoremen, factory workers and cotton farmers, employees coming in for their shift and marketing managers spending down an advertising budget.
How could a company like that possibly know its carbon footprint?
Here’s the sorry answer: Most companies don’t. They estimate.
Those estimates are suddenly looking more important. New laws and a proposal from the U.S. Securities and Exchange Commission could soon require that companies treat this data with the same seriousness that they devote to their accounting books. Companies now need their corporate climate data to do something that it was never meant to do: help them make decisions.
So the race is on to help companies estimate better. On Wednesday, Watershed, a startup that helps companies run their climate programs, bought VitalMetrics, a climate-data mainstay that owns and manages one of the most important tools that companies use to estimate their carbon footprints.
That tool, called the Comprehensive Environmental Data Archive, or CEDA, provides what’s known as carbon-intensity data for hundreds of products as made in more than 140 countries. It is one of several tools that has been used to advise Microsoft, Kellogg’s, and Virgin Atlantic since Sangwon Suh, an industrial-ecology professor and Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change author, founded VitalMetrics in 2005.
Watershed’s acquisition of VitalMetrics signals that corporate climate data is entering a new stage, Taylor Francis, one of the company’s cofounders, told me. Watershed, at least, is a different kind of company than the climate bean counters of yore: Founded by former employees of the payments behemoth Stripe, it has raised $84 million from the venture-capital firms Kleiner Perkins, Sequoia Capital, as well as the billionaire Laurene Powell Jobs.
“The traditional corporate climate complex was basically designed for a world of numbers in the corporate social responsibility report, and a pledge, and a press release,” he said. ”We’re shifting to the new world of numbers in a 10-K,” the annual financial report that public companies must file with the government, “and a planet running out of time.”
I will admit I had it all wrong. I had assumed that because corporate carbon footprints sounded precise and vaguely science-adjacent, they were produced by something like a scientific methodology themselves. I imagined a company’s employees — or at least their consultants — collecting emissions data smokestack by smokestack, pacing around factories while studying air-quality monitors, and doing careful math somewhere in the vicinity of a bunsen burner or two. (I believed this, I should add, despite knowing that many corporate climate reports contain glaring arithmetic errors and sometimes literally do not add up.)
That sort of methodology is the “platonic ideal of carbon accounting,” Francis, the Watershed cofounder, told me. In a perfect world, a company would have measured the per-ton emissions of each of its processes, and it would know these for each of its suppliers down to the raw material.
Yet this is still a ways off for most companies. Instead, the bulk of carbon accounting today now happens in spreadsheets, and it uses dollars, not tons, as an input. Each consumer good or raw commodity aligns to a “factor,” a multiplier that says that for every dollar spent on, say, glass or aluminum, a certain amount of carbon is emitted. A climate team inputs the dollar amount, multiplies it by the factor, and arrives at a result: a company’s annual carbon footprint.
Until now, Watershed and other firms have often calculated corporate climate emissions by using a U.S. Environmental Protection Agency-made database called the Environmentally Extended Input-Output, or EEIO, model, Francis said. “You start with very coarse input data like, we spent $100 million on marketing. So you go to the old EEIO database, and the EEIO says that in the U.S. 10 years ago, the carbon emissions per dollar of marketing spend was X, and you multiply that to get your emissions number.”
“I think that gets you into the right order of magnitude,” he said, but it was messy. The EEIO data is roughly a decade out of date, meaning it overstates climate pollution from the power grid and understates the role of inflation.
VitalMetrics’ CEDA database, on the other hand, is updated every year. It contains carbon-intensity factors for more than 300 products and — most important — it varies these factors based on the country of origin. Going forward, Watershed will calculate corporate emissions data using these CEDA estimates.
This kind of data-gathering isn’t fine-tuned enough for companies to actually make better decisions with their data, Madison Condon, a law professor at Boston University who has criticized the reigning approach, told me. Under the current approach, a company can improve their carbon-accounting data only by shifting production to countries with lower emissions factors. It doesn’t get credit for, say, installing technologies at its existing factories that lower emissions.
That is unsustainable because corporate carbon accounting is becoming important to governments around the world. The Securities and Exchange Commission has proposed requiring publicly traded companies to disclose carbon data and major climate-related risks. Even if that rule is swatted away by the Supreme Court, the European Union will soon require tens of thousands of companies to disclose sustainability and emissions data; these rules could apply to more than 10,000 foreign companies, including many mainstream American brands. California could soon pass its own law mandating that companies produce carbon-accounting data.
Even apart from those disclosure requirements, carbon-footprint requirements are now written into laws. Some of the Inflation Reduction Act’s subsidies will pay out only if a product’s carbon intensity is below a certain threshold.
Eventually, Watershed hopes to produce a hybrid tool that can use dollar-based production factors, tonnage estimates, and technology-based improvements together, Francis told me. More broadly, Watershed’s acquisition of Vitalmetrics — not to mention Watershed itself — is a gamble about how the climate economy will eventually work.
“Five years from now, the disclosure piece is just part of the water. No one talks or writes about it because it is an expected part of doing business for every company. And it’s relatively low friction. It’s a part of your annual close, your quarterly close,” Francis told me. “We don’t really talk about climate as a political issue because businesses don't think of climate as a political issue because they see it as, you know, the biggest growth sector of the decade.”
Of course, if that’s true, then companies may not need a startup like Watershed to do their climate counting for them. Bog-standard corporate accountants, like KPMG or Deloitte, will do the task just fine.
But Watershed is betting that climate accounting will remain both more technical and more central to a company’s employee and investor relationships than, say, its power bill. Just as companies use Salesforce specifically to manage customer relationships, or Justworks to manage payroll and benefits, Watershed hopes they will need a single place to manage all their climate data — a single source of emissions truth. It’s investing in its database to try to make that bet payoff.
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Under new rules, the United States will impose virtually no limits on greenhouse gas pollution from power plants.
This is an edition of Heatmap Daily, an evening review of the day’s news written by our executive editor. Sign up for it here.
Happy Monday. It’s going to be a big week. Let’s begin with the immediate news.
This afternoon, the Environmental Protection Agency formally rolled back limits on greenhouse gas pollution from existing power plants — and proposed scrapping the rest. If the proposal is finalized, then coal and natural gas power plant operators could soon release as much heat-trapping pollution as they want into the atmosphere. And thanks to other recent rollbacks, power plants can release more mercury, microscopic soot, and other hazardous air pollutants, too.
EPA Administrator Lee Zeldin made the announcement at a Group of 20 energy minister meeting in Houston.
On a legal basis, the agency is formalizing the change in two steps: First, it partially repealed some rules for power plant emissions; second, it filed a separate legal argument that the Clean Air Act “does not authorize the EPA to regulate emissions from power plants” to fight climate change. Both documents will likely go into effect later this year. Those documents were released as I wrote this newsletter, and we’re still digging through them at Heatmap.
But there are two broader ways, I think, to see this news.
The first is that it confirms America’s abdication of environmental leadership under the Trump administration. Global climate politics is now in a quite different situation than it was in, say, 2018, when the Trump administration last made similar deregulatory moves. China now operates the world’s largest carbon emissions trading system — and while that system targets an odd “intensity” measurement, and gives away many free allowances, it is expanding to other sectors of the economy and the country plans to adopt more conventional targets next year.
Which isn’t to say it’s perfect. I could find something important to criticize about China, Canada, and the European Union’s various carbon schemes. But they have policies at the national or supranational level, and the United States does not. While we still have a handful of state regional policies — such as the-cap and-trade market for Northeastern states — they have been transformed by the politics of inflation.
And things could still get worse. Earlier this year, the Trump administration repealed the EPA’s scientific finding that heat-trapping greenhouse gases can endanger the environment. If it successfully defends that move in court, then any future government will face extra hurdles when seeking to limit carbon pollution. And if the Trump administration secures the Supreme Court ruling it is obviously angling for — and gets the high court to overturn its landmark 2007 decision that said the EPA could regulate greenhouse gases in the first place — then a future Democratic administration might find itself virtually without tools to limit carbon emissions.
The second way of seeing this news, though, is that little has actually changed on the ground — and the biggest unanswered question in American climate policy remains unanswered. Since the Obama administration, the federal government has regulated carbon pollution from cars and trucks (though Trump has of course sought to put an end to those rules, too). But it has never found a way to limit power plant carbon emissions in a comprehensive way.
Instead, successive Democratic presidents, Trump administrations, and the Supreme Court have played a slow-motion, 12-year-long game of regulatory ping pong. In 2014, President Obama proposed a scheme to cut carbon emissions from power plants. Since then, the first Trump administration repealed those rules, the Supreme Court stayed them (and then eventually nixed them), and President Biden proposed a new and more narrow version of them — which the Trump administration has just repealed. And Trump wants to end the game forever by preventing the Clean Air Act from ever regulating carbon emissions.
Trump and his officials are acting irresponsibly by doing so — to say the least. But the truth is that Democratic presidents have never found an enduring way to regulate power plant carbon emissions that the Supreme Court has blessed. And doing so has only gotten harder as the court has marched right over the past decade.
We will keep diving into these new documents here at Heatmap. But we have already covered this story in depth over the past 18 months, too. Check out:
There is one more thing to look forward to this week, by the way. On Wednesday, the Federal Reserve will decide whether to raise interest rates. Investors now expect it to bump the federal funds rate by one-quarter of a percentage point, which will affect the investment climate for every part of the energy system — including renewables.
As my colleague Matt Zeitlin has written, interest rates dictate the economics of clean energy because most spending on renewables and other zero-carbon power plants happens at the front end, as capital expenditure. Spending on fossil fuel projects, on the other hand, is more spread out, because operators must purchase fuel over time.
One big question that the Fed will eventually need to confront: Is there any way to rein in above-trend inflation without reducing artificial intelligence spending?
We’ll be covering that story and more as the week develops. Thanks as always for reading.
Heatmap’s latest poll adds urgency to one of the biggest questions facing the climate: Can the environmental movement come back?
Three years ago, I wrote a piece for this website about how I’d stopped openly describing myself as an environmentalist. Looking back at it now, it’s a bit of a head-scratcher: I love nature, conservation, and all things outdoorsy, and while I stand by my greater point — that we can’t let uncompromising ideals about the environment hold back renewable energy development — the truth is, I am absolutely an environmentalist. But saying so felt analogous to calling myself tender-hearted, naïve, and retrograde.
The truth is, most Americans are environmentalists, at least if you take a wide definition. In new polling and focus group research conducted by Heatmap News and Embold Research, nearly three in four registered voters (72%) told us “the environment” is extremely or very important to them personally. The environment, in fact, ranked a full 17 points higher than “climate change” in a battery of potential voter issues, despite the latter’s much more obvious existential threat. Even among the subset of people we labeled “skeptics,” for whom climate change was of minimal to no importance, a third (32%) still told us the environment matters to them greatly.
It’s no secret that “climate change” has fallen out of vogue; we’ve reported extensively on the rhetorical shift, including in coverage of our latest poll. But in a forced-choice test of three political messages, we also found voters preferred a hypothetical candidate who emphasized the environment while avoiding any words related to climate (38%, compared to 28% for a clean energy affordability message and 35% for an energy independence-focused message). Specifically, voters who picked our environmental message said they were drawn to its pitch for “cleaner air and a healthier environment for our families and communities.”
Given that the environment still seems to be a way for policymakers and communicators to reach people — including some of the most entrenched climate skeptics, who need the most convincing to back renewable energy — it appears to be a golden opportunity for a modern environmental movement to emerge and advance some of the overlapping goals of the climate movement.
But … where is it?
“As a movement, it’s semi-dormant,” John Reid, the founder of the Conservation Strategy Fund and the author of a recent Atlantic article on the decline of environmentalism in the United States, told me. The son of a Republican Senate aide who worked on the 1968 bill to establish California’s Redwood National Park, Reid stressed that environmentalism “was absolutely not a partisan issue in Congress” in the late 1960s and 1970s — what many consider the golden age of the movement, when clean air and water protections passed through Congress with conservative support. But the “trail started to go a little bit cold” under President Ronald Reagan, Reid added, calling him “the first president I’m aware of who put an anti-environmentalist in charge of the [Environmental Protection Agency]”: Anne Gorsuch.
When activists started paying attention to climate change and the fossil fuel industry in the 1990s, 2000s, and early 2010s, Reid said the movement began to shift away from its core themes of nature and conservation. “The kinds of solutions developed by free market enthusiasts isolated CO2 as a potentially investable, tradable commodity,” he said. “I think they got hyperfocused on carbon, and on the one hand it drew people who weren’t traditional environmentalists into the environmental debate — like Bill Gates and some pundits like Ezra Klein — but it’s also almost like they’ve never been on a hike before.”
The election of President Donald Trump, of course, added heretofore unimaginable headwinds to the environmental movement. Adam Rome, an environmental historian at the University of Buffalo, called the current federal situation “hopeless,” and told me he’s even seen the retreat from large-scope environmental policy play out in his classroom. Every year, he assigns students in his Environmental Movements course to organize a hypothetical Earth Day-like event to inspire people to action. “Just in the last couple of years, none of my students anymore had ideas at all about anything that you might remotely call politics,” he told me. “The thing that they were most excited about was, ‘Well, we could organize community gardens. That has a direct positive impact, and it can be a kind of consciousness-raising activity.’”
When Rome told me this, it felt drained of ambition — Really? Community gardens? But when I spoke to organizers at some of the country’s most prominent and historically influential environmental and climate groups about the state of the modern environmental movement, they framed it differently. Holly Bender, the chief program officer of the Sierra Club, told me that what inspires people and makes them feel agency is “not as much climate decisions” — which may feel far off or nebulous — “but this idea that the environment is close to home.”
Amy Moas, the climate director at Greenpeace USA, pointed specifically to how data center fights have become a new nexus of environmental action at the community level. “People are seeing the impact of environmental choices in their backyard, they’re seeing how it impacts their lived experiences, and they’re willing to stand up and fight for it.”
Kidus Girma, the campaign director at Sunrise Movement, told me that the youth activist network is now focused on finding “the most immediate and pressing thing” in people’s lives and “clarifying how it’s a climate issue.” He pointed to community resistance to data centers, which has risen in response to the idea that “a couple of tech billionaires [who are] able to radically reshape the American energy market in a couple of years, and what degree of local control folks should have about energy production,” but which people also oppose due to concerns about electricity and water use.
Girma sees the climate and environmental movements as deeply intertwined but ultimately separate — however, each can be considered the umbrella under which the other nests. If anything, though, the modern environmental movement has only gotten wider: After seeming to reach its peak of influence in 2021 and 2022, the Sunrise Movement has since reassembled to take on the Trump administration more explicitly, including patrolling for Immigration and Customs Enforcement Officers in Minnesota.
“Environmentalists understand that the forces in the federal government that are sending troops out to arrest and deport innocent people are the same forces that are destroying the environment and making climate change worse,” Aaron Sachs, an environmental historian at Cornell University and the author of the forthcoming book The Earth Is Ours, Not Mine: A History of Environmental Justice, told me. He added that the environmental movement at large is “so much more aware of intersectionality now,” and that organizers “don’t make the kinds of distinctions that older people might be tempted to make, which I think is a good thing.”
If our polling found the possibility of a cross-spectrum coalition under the banner of the environment, Girma has seen it in person in local data center fights. “We’re at the point where MAGA voters and lefty Sunrisers are strategizing together on how to get their county to make a different decision,” he told me. But others told me that part of the reason the environmental movement may seem absent from people’s minds right now is that “there are so many crises happening at the same time,” as Moas, the climate director at Greenpeace USA, said. Election corruption, concerns about AI, the Iran War, immigration — “there are too many issues for any one to be center stage,” she went on. “There are multiple ‘top priority’ issues.”
But to Reid of the Conservation Strategy Fund, it’s exactly this dilution of focus that is the core obstacle for the modern environmental movement. “It’s like a Christmas tree dynamic, where people get to come and hang whatever liberal cause they care about and act as if right-minded people should all be on the same side of all of these issues,” he said. He told me that strange bedfellows can come together on specific issues and make a change — like how onX, a popular mapping software among hunters, is currently galvanizing its members to oppose the rollback of the Roadless Rule. “If you think of alliances as Venn diagrams, insisting on near-total overlap will limit your allies to a number too small to make a movement,” he later wrote me in an email.
Whatever is holding back the modern environmental movement, it does not appear to be its ultimate underlying aim of protecting the planet. “If you drop the label ‘environmentalism’ and just ask people: Will my kids’ water be safe, or is the air going to make my family sick? — you get resonance from that,” Marc Yaggi, the CEO of Waterkeeper Alliance, told me. “I think that’s because people have learned to distrust the process, but not the goal.”
Our data seemed to back his view. When we asked voters why they haven’t done more to support clean energy, for example, just 7% (and only 16% of climate skeptics) said it was b ecause “I don’t believe in the goal.” Distrust in politicians and advocacy groups, the futility of the current political environment, and competing priorities (“other issues matter more to me”) all ranked higher.
“I really believe there is a whole lot of love and affection for nature and concern for environmental quality out there in the general public,” Reid said. “It may be quiet, it may be latent, it may get silenced by more immediate concerns that people have. But I do believe it’s out there.”
This new report is the first in a series of Heatmap reports on how American voters view climate, clean energy, and sustainability issues. If you'd like to receive our latest updates, downloadable reports, and invitations for special briefings, please fill out this form.
Current conditions: The Atlantic set a record on Saturday for the longest stretch of the hurricane season since the advent of satellites without a major named storm • Argentina is bracing for severe Zonda winds, a type of intense downslope gust unique to the eastern side of the Andes Mountains • While the wildfires darkening skies over Indonesia have receded, blazes are still raging across the southern shores of Sumatra, Borneo, and West Papua.
The United States is preparing to eliminate any cap on the amount of planet-warming pollution from burning coal or gas that power plants can spew into the atmosphere. On Sunday night, The New York Times reported that the Environmental Protection Agency planned to announce a final repeal of climate rules on the power sector at this week’s summit in Houston of energy ministers from the Group of 20 nations. The EPA already moved to remove the entire legal basis for regulating greenhouse gases at any level by gutting its endangerment finding, which my colleagues Robinson Meyer and Emily Pontecorvo explained last winter. In March, as I told you at the time, almost half of all U.S. states sued to block the administration from rescinding the finding. The EPA went on to scrap standards on climate-heating emissions for car tailpipes and loosened rules on heat-trapping chemicals used in refrigerators and air conditioners. Under the new proposal, which the Times noted would come out Monday, power plants would still face limits on mercury, arsenic, and other contaminants, “though the EPA has already loosened restrictions on how much mercury they can emit.”
Nearly a year ago, I told you about the legal challenges already mounting for President Donald Trump’s order to keep a Michigan coal-fired station open past its planned retirement date on the grounds that the broader grid system is under an “emergency” level of stress. Maintaining the J.H. Campbell coal station for just three months past its previously-agreed closure cost the utility Consumers Energy nearly $30 million. And all that was to fulfill an illegal order, a federal court just decided. On Friday, the D.C. Circuit Court of Appeals ruled against the Trump administration’s use of emergency powers to force the plant to stay open. The court found that the Department of Energy illegally invoked Section 202(c), the emergency authority of the Federal Power Act, to override the long-term planning process through which Consumers, Michigan, and the Energy Department had agreed to terminate power production at the 1.4-gigawatt plant. The agency has since used the same statute to order coal plants in Colorado, Florida, Indiana, and Washington to remain open. “The DOE needs to stay in its lane and use its emergency powers only in actual emergencies,” Michael Lenoff, Earthjustice attorney, said in a statement. “Preventing the market-driven retirements of coal plants to advance a coal-friendly agenda is not a proper use of emergency powers.” In July, Washington State announced a deal with utility TransAlta to convert the state’s only remaining coal plant to run on natural gas. But that same day, the Energy Department renewed its directive to keep TransAlta’s Centralia coal plant running for at least another three months. “America needs more reliable power, not less, and today’s order will help ensure reliable electricity generation remains available to help address periods of peak demand,” Secretary of Energy Chris Wright said in a statement at the same time. “The Trump administration remains committed to reversing the misguided energy subtraction policies it inherited from past leaders.”
The White House, meanwhile, is considering using the Defense Production Act to expand U.S. oil refining capacity. The proposal, reported by Reuters, came up during a meeting between Trump and a dozen U.S. refiners, who told the president that federal money “would be better directed toward making refineries more efficient or expanding existing plants rather than financing an entirely new refinery,” which would cost more and take years to complete.
A surge of utility-scale solar projects racing to completion before the federal tax credits expires in July added 11.4 gigawatts of capacity to the U.S. in the second quarter of this year, representing a 45% increase. That’s according to a PV Tech analysis of the latest Solar Energy Industries Association report I told you about on Thursday. Rooftop solar was a mixed bag in the second three-month stretch of 2026. Residential solar installations fell 12% year over year and community solar declined 14%, but corporate and industrial projects grew by 11%. Utility-scale projects, on the other hand, soared by 61% year over year. “The concentration on utility-scale developments was a direct response to the Trump administration’s phaseout of tax credits for renewable energy deployments from July 4, 2026 and the ‘safe harbor’ period that requires projects are placed in service,” PV Tech wrote.
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Canadian Prime Minister Mark Carney instructed his special envoy to Europe to “scope out the most ambitious possibilities short of full membership” in the European Union or its common market, The Wall Street Journal reported Sunday. The details, the newspaper noted, “are still being sketched by technical working groups for what the prime minister has told his aides will be the reorienting of an economy and a society that for half a century has been dominated by the U.S.” If successful, the pivot to Brussels would reshape the energy and resource profile of both continents, pairing Europe’s wealth and vast population with Canada’s vast supply of oil, gas, and minerals. “In a more dangerous and divided world, Canada and our European partners are moving ever closer,” Carney said in a statement over the weekend. “Our shared values, complementary strengths, and common interests serve as the strong foundation on which we can build a stronger future. Together, Canada and our European partners have the ambition and strength to create a more just, stable, and universally prosperous world.”

Canada boasts the world’s second-biggest output of uranium, a potential boon to Europe’s nuclear sector. But with Kazakhstan, the world’s top supplier, cautioning that more of its supply could end up going to China and other new buyers, Australia — the world’s No. 4 supplier — is looking for a bigger stake in the world’s third-place producer, Namibia. A pair of Australian companies are pushing ahead with plans to build new projects in the southwest African nation, Bloomberg reported last week. Bannerman Energy and Deep Yellow are both based in the Western Australian mining hub of Perth. Bannerman is considering a joint venture with China National Nuclear Corporation in which Beijing’s state-owned reactor operator would buy a 45% stake in a mine and agree to buy 60% of its output once the project is commissioned in 2028. Deep Yellow’s nearby Tumas project is, per the newswire, “a little less advanced but targeting a final investment decision toward the end of the year.”
China’s wind turbine champion, Goldwind, is getting into another green sector. The world’s largest turbine manufacturer shipped its first batch of green methanol from a 160-megawatt project in Inner Mongolia to South Korea, where it’s expected to be shipped to a buyer in the EU, Hydrogen Insight reported. It’s yet another sign of how China is stepping up to meet the EU’s carbon tariff.