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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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Governor Kathy Hochul says the state won’t approve new artificial intelligence data centers for one year.
We have our first state-level data center moratorium.
New York Governor Kathy Hochul has paused data center development in the state for one year, signing an executive order on Tuesday that prevents the state from approving permits for new large-scale computing facilities.
The order targets what Hochul called “hyperscale data centers,” which she defined as those that can consume 50 megawatts of electricity or more.
“New York will lead the way in creating the strongest standards in the nation for data center development, ensuring that when companies succeed because of New York, New Yorkers succeed too,” the governor said.
The state will spend the next year finalizing a program to make sure data centers either build their own power generation or pay a higher rate for electricity. It will also help local governments negotiate “community benefits” with data center developers, and it will require projects to complete a more stringent form of environmental review.
Practically speaking, the moratorium doesn’t affect many projects, Heatmap Pro data suggests. Of the eight large-scale data center projects recently proposed in New York state, three have already been canceled, and one was approved last year. The developer behind a potentially million-acre campus — which would have consumed as much as 1,000 megawatts of power — in the upper Hudson Valley canceled the project last month after the town imposed its own moratorium.
In fact, most of the towns or counties where an AI data center would be most attractive in New York have already banned or restricted the projects in some way, our data shows. Eight municipalities in New York have banned data center development outright, while three have passed a restrictive ordinance of some kind.
If anything, the new moratorium is more lenient than developers might have expected. Last month, the New York state legislature passed a bill that would have blocked approvals for data centers larger than 20 megawatts for a year. Hochul is sidestepping that legislation by issuing this executive order.
Perhaps the most important context: Hochul faces a re-election campaign this fall. The order reminds me of when she paused New York City’s congestion pricing program just before it would have gone into effect in June 2024 — which was, if I may be blunt, another election year. I was sharply critical of her decision then and considered it among the worst climate policy betrayals of the Biden era; everything I’ve learned since suggests that the tolling plan really was in peril. But lo, several months later — a few weeks into November, as it happens — Hochul and state lawmakers revived the scheme. The policy finally began in 2025 and has been a roaring success.
To be clear, I don’t think Hochul will reverse this one-year moratorium in December. But I suspect that it’s unlikely to get extended beyond its initial 12 months, in part because so many towns and cities have already passed their own restrictions. (Or perhaps that makes its eventual extension more likely.) Whether other Democratic-run states follow her lead, though — especially those where more data centers are likely to get built — is another question.
Microsoft says it bought nearly 3,500 acres of land near Cheyenne from the family of Wyoming Senator Cynthia Lummis.
The family of one of Congress’ biggest Big Tech boosters has reportedly sold thousands of acres of land to Microsoft for a new data center.
Late Monday night, the city council in Cheyenne, Wyoming approved a measure necessary for Microsoft to connect a new data center campus to city services, including water access. The council’s action annexes almost 3,500 acres that was owned by relatives of the state’s junior senator, Cynthia Lummis. A Microsoft representative testified to the council that the company acquired the land on June 26.
Honestly, it’s a surprise that the land annexation — reportedly one of the largest single additions of land to the city’s control in its history — was even approved. Just last week I confirmed local reports that officials had traced rare bacteria in the city’s municipal wastewater system to another data center project overseen by a subcontractor for Meta. This incident led the city to ban data center developers indefinitely from disposing wastewater from closed-loop cooling systems into the municipal wastewater system.
The land annexation was approved in the wee hours of the night by a 7-3 vote, after a nearly eight-hour marathon session of the city council that also included other much smaller land swaps for the Microsoft project. The state representative for the area where the property sits, Republican Ann Lucas, testified against the measure. Many Cheyenne residents who spoke in opposition to the project referenced the Meta-linked incident, and a handful of neighbors of the future data center complex got together to testify against it.
“I oppose this annexation, but I understand that Senator Lummis has a right to request it, just like she did for the land that my house is on,” testified Peggy Gates, who lives in a residential community called Sweetgrass that is adjacent to the property. “My sincere question to the city council is, why is it necessary for this annexation and rezoning vote to be completed tonight?”
Patrick Collins, Cheyenne’s mayor, told her the city faced a choice: either move forward with an annexation that would put the property under its control and let it connect to municipal services, or Microsoft would have to go its own way under solely county control.
“It’s a good question,” Collins replied from the dais. “I would guess if we postponed it for three months, people would say we should postpone it longer. At some point we just have to vote and say yes or no and give the people who want to develop that piece of property clearer direction of whether they can be in the city or not in the city. They already own the land. They’re either going to do it in the city or outside the city. We’re trying to give them direction as to how they should make their plan. Should they drill [water] wells or use city water and sewer?”
How much money the Lummis family may make from the data center land deal has not yet been made public, nor have the ways in which the senator or her family could profit. The family has reportedly held much of this land going back to the 1940s, and it now sits in the name of companies such as Arp and Hammond Hardware, Old Horse Pasture Inc., and Lummis Livestock Company LLC.
As far as I can tell, this is the first major data center deal ever involving a sitting member of the U.S. Congress. Lummis is also the “crypto queen” of the Senate, known as a policy thought leader in all things technology, artificial intelligence, and the digitization of human existence. She’s recently waded into the data center debate: In mid-June, after Microsoft disclosed its intent to acquire the Lummis properties, the senator introduced a bill requiring the Federal Energy Regulatory Commission to quickly craft new regulations making it easier for data centers using 100 megawatts or more to connect to the existing electrical grid.
Lummis announced in December that she will not be seeking re-election. Her office did not respond to requests for comment.
Microsoft told me in a statement that the senator’s connection to this land played no role in selecting this site for their project: “This expansion reflects our continued long-term investment in Cheyenne and builds on more than a decade of growth in the region. Senator Lummis’ political standing had nothing to do with our decision to continue growing in Cheyenne,” the company said.
“Geologic hydrogen” companies make up a hefty portion of the latest Activate Fellowship class, announced Tuesday morning — a reliable harbinger of investments to come.
The hype around clean hydrogen has come in waves, with investors and policymakers betting that the versatile molecule could help decarbonize everything from fertilizer production to long-haul shipping and heavy industry. Different production methods have come in and out of vogue: Around 2020 it was using carbon capture and storage, then electrolysis powered by clean electricity and subsidized by generous tax credits in the Inflation Reduction Act. More recently, venture capitalists have poured money into the search for naturally occurring deposits hidden underground.
So far, none of these approaches has delivered cheap, low-carbon at any kind of scale. Yet enthusiasm for this latest frontier — so-called geologic hydrogen — has continued to build.
Much of that excitement stems from an even newer concept, alternately known as engineered geologic hydrogen or engineered mineral hydrogen. This is the idea that if naturally occurring hydrogen deposits — which require a precise mixture of geologic conditions — prove too rare or difficult to find, scientists can engineer those subsurface conditions themselves, producing this valuable molecule straight from the earth wherever the right iron-rich rocks are found. Essentially, the approach trades exploration risk for engineering risk.
“I think it’s really a natural evolution,” Sophie Broun, CEO of the seed-stage engineered hydrogen company Anning Corporation, told me. “It’s the evolution that we’ve seen play out from oil and gas — conventional to unconventional — from geothermal to [enhanced geothermal systems], and now we’re seeing it in geologic hydrogen.”
Broun is a member of the new class of Activate Fellows announced on Tuesday morning. The two-year fellowship provides early-stage founders with funding for research and development, as well as a network of fellow founders, mentors, investors, and corporate partners. It’s helped seed cohorts of companies that have gone on to form brand new industries, from clean cement startups Brimstone and Sublime Systems to thermal energy players Antora Energy and Electrified Thermal Solutions.
Dan Recht, Activate’s chief fellowship officer, thinks that the nascent geologic hydrogen industry — which includes both natural and engineered deposits — is next. “This process of seeing these up and coming sectors and industries is routine for us at Activate,” he told me. “At the end of our selection process we now have a pretty good sense of, oh, the U.S. is going to have a geologic hydrogen industry.”
Of the 50 fellows selected this year, nine work in energy. Of those nine, three are hydrogen companies: geologic hydrogen startups Anning and Hydrify, as well as Brint Tech, which is developing hydrogen leak detectors. Anning is squarely an engineered hydrogen company, aiming to stimulate the production of the molecule underground using an undisclosed technology, while Hydrify is building tools to better locate where natural hydrogen deposits already exist.
Like Broun, Recht sees a clear parallel with the geothermal industry, where Fervo Energy is manipulating the subsurface to create the conditions necessary for geothermal power production and Zanskar is using artificial intelligence models to identify previously overlooked conventional geothermal resources. Anning could become the Fervo of hydrogen, while Hydrify could be its Zanskar, he told me. The parallels also extend beyond the companies themselves: The drilling techniques that underpin geothermal development — largely adapted from the oil and gas industry — stand to be just as critical to unlocking geologic hydrogen, which could give this emerging tech a similar bipartisan appeal.
Natural hydrogen company Koloma is by far the best capitalized startup in this space, having raised around $400 million from big-name backers such as Breakthrough Energy Ventures, Amazon’s Climate Pledge Fund, and Khosla Ventures. That said, it has yet to publish any results indicating it’s discovered commercially significant new deposits. That relative silence from the industry’s biggest player has helped fuel the dreams of the even-more-nascent engineered players such as Anning, Vema Hydrogen, Addis Energy, GeoKiln and Eden GeoPower, who think they can achieve quicker, more consistent breakthroughs.
“By being able to deploy the engineered solution, we’re able to be repeatable and scalable, and ultimately, that’s what customers and infrastructure providers need,” Broun told me. Being able to produce hydrogen closer to where it’s actually used could slash transportation costs, often one of the most expensive parts of the hydrogen value chain as the gas typically must be compressed or liquified before transport. “Being able to place that engineered system at a location that’s much more within your control, I think that that is a far stronger or more appealing business case in many cases,” she explained.
Anning raised a pre-seed round last year, and is now raising a $6 million seed round, which would put it more or less on par with other early players in the engineered hydrogen subsector. Vema has raised the most thus far, bringing in an oversubscribed $13 million seed round last February from a group of climate-focused investors including Extantia Capital and Propeller, and is now raising its Series A.
Vema drills its wells into iron-rich rock formations known as ophiolites, then injects water and a proprietary catalyst to trigger serpentinization, a natural geochemical reaction between water and iron minerals that produces hydrogen gas. While this process would typically unfold over millions of years, Vema says it’s aiming to speed up that reaction by a factor of 10,000 to generate commercial quantities of hydrogen on a human timeframe. The resulting hydrogen gas would then flow back to the surface through the well, where it would be purified before its delivery to customers.
The company’s senior vice president of operations, Colin McCulley, told me he expects that it can all be done for less than $1 per kilogram, the so-called “magic number where you start to compete with petroleum-derived hydrogen.” And Vema’s CEO, Pierre Levin, told TechCrunch that once the startup dials in its tech, the price will eventually drop to less than 50 cents per kilogram, making it definitively the cheapest form of hydrogen yet developed.
The company is currently conducting pilot testing in Quebec, home to the well-mapped Thetford Mines ophiolite deposits. But while Vema has yet to release any early results from this pilot, it’s already laying the groundwork for rapid commercialization. Late last year, Vema signed a conditional 10-year offtake agreement with the off-grid data center power startup Verne to supply up to 36,000 metric tons per year of hydrogen, with delivery expected to begin “as soon as 2028.” Then last week, the startup inked a nonbinding memorandum of understanding with Montreal-based sustainable aviation fuels developer SAF + International Group to supply 4,000 tons of hydrogen annually, also beginning “in approximately 2028.” The group will make that fuel at a facility co-located with Vema’s planned Quebec production site to minimize transport costs.
A report shared with me last month from the Cleantech Group, a San Francisco-based market intelligence and advisory firm, cast some doubts on that timeline, however. It called the 2028 target “over aggressive,” given that Vema will need to build a first of its kind facility to fulfill its deals with Verne and SAF + International Group.
“This is the Earth. This isn’t like your lab space where you can exactly control the pressure and temperature and conditions that exist downhole,” Diana Rasner, author of the report and the firm’s group lead for materials and chemicals, told me. “You’re going into territory you can’t see, or that you don’t know how it behaves day to day, let alone like on the scale of what you would think hydrogen production needs to be.”
Even McCulley admits that it’s a stretch, telling me that, “If we have realistic complexity in our project, it will be difficult to deliver on this timeline.” But he thinks the ambition is essential to demonstrate near-term demand and secure commitments for larger projects down the road. He expects the industry to really hit its stride between 2035 and 2040, by which point he says Vema could be looking at a fourth or fifth large-scale commercial project at costs competitive with fossil fuel-derived hydrogen.
But Vema is now facing competition from startups pursuing markedly different approaches to the same problem. Because heat is a natural accelerant of serpentinization, a company called GeoKiln is forgoing chemical catalysts altogether in favor of underground electric heaters designed to stimulate and speed up hydrogen production. Meanwhile, Eden GeoPower plans to apply high voltage electricity to fracture surrounding rocks, which also releases heat and exposes fresh reactive rock surfaces.
Then there’s Addis Energy, which is betting that ammonia production offers a stronger commercial proposition. Hydrogen is often an intermediate molecule in the process of producing ammonia, which is widely used in fertilizers and has become newly interesting for low-carbon shipping fuel. Addis aims to skip that conversion step entirely by injecting water, its own proprietary catalyst, plus a nitrogen-containing compound into the subsurface, triggering a chemical reaction that directly produces ammonia — a molecule that’s simple to transport using existing shipping infrastructure.
Eden raised a $12 million seed round in 2023, backed by a mix of oil and gas industry investors and sustainability-focused funds, while Addis raised a $8.3 million seed round late last year led by climate tech VC At One Ventures.
But investing in the space, Rasner told me, isn’t something everyone in the VC community is comfortable with these days. “It’s not to say that they didn’t believe in it,” she said of investors who did eventually pull the trigger. But it certainly wasn’t an easy decision. As promises of affordable, low-carbon hydrogen production have come and gone, there’s an undeniable aura of uncertainty around the industry, a feeling that has only grown stronger since the Trump administration curtailed clean hydrogen subsidies and froze funding for the previous Biden administration’s hydrogen hubs initiative.
With natural hydrogen players such as Koloma yet to deliver on their early momentum, Rasner told me many would-be backers are approaching the sector with a general attitude best summarized as, “You’re going to be able to do the thing that a lot of the big names in this space haven’t been able to prove out yet, but on your own terms? What’s the catch?”
Recht, however, naturally has a more optimistic outlook. The subsurface has long supplied the minerals that underpin our modern economy, and now it’s increasingly being tapped for geothermal energy as well. In his view, it’s only natural that it might be able to deliver the long-promised hydrogen economy.
“It turns out we’re really good at digging stuff up out of the ground cheaply. If you look at what has humanity decided to do with the past century, it’s to get good at that.”