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That won’t stop these investors from trying.

Sometimes it’s called the “missing middle,” sometimes, more ominously, the “valley of death.” Whatever the terminology, it’s undeniable that a chasm lies between a climate company’s early funding rounds and its eventual commercial scale-up, one that’s getting harder and harder to bridge. From the first half of last year to the first half of this one, total Series B funding declined by nearly a quarter; beyond Series C rounds — what the market intelligence platform CTVC calls “growth funding” — it declined by a third.
“The capital needs of these businesses have just outgrown their early stage backers,” Frank O’Sullivan, a managing director for S2G Ventures’ energy investments, told me. “But the infrastructure investors have absolutely no appetite whatsoever for taking on an unproven technology and scaling.” S2G makes both early stage and growth stage investments, and O’Sullivan co-authored a white paper last year on the problem of the “missing middle.” The paper found that of the $270 billion in private capital for clean energy raised between 2017 and 2022, just 20% was allocated to late-stage and growth-focused investments, while 43% went to earlier rounds and 37% toward deploying established tech.
Of course, some of climate tech’s funding gap can be attributed to broader trends in the venture market and economic landscape. Covid-related disruptions and low interest rates led investors to throw money at promising startups, only to see their valuations drop as inflation (with rising interest rates to match) and geopolitical uncertainty cooled down the overheated market. Other companies went directly onto the public market via special purpose acquisition companies, only to underperform expectations. “There is capital to be deployed,” O’Sullivan told me. “But a lot of the companies that need that capital are struggling, really, to swallow hard and take significant restructuring of their previous valuations.”
With clean tech in particular, there’s also frequently a mismatch between the abilities of venture firms, which often make their biggest returns on software startups, and the demands of climate tech. The latter tends to require huge investments in physical infrastructure and support for first-of-a-kind projects, and generally has a longer timeline to profitability than, say, an app. “Venture funding, in some sense, was built for scaling software companies,” Lara Pierpoint, managing director of the new catalytic capital program Trellis Climate, told me. “You’re talking about a capital light business that generally is creating something that enters a white space, and for which there’s huge amounts of market potential.”
It’s much more difficult to build expensive infrastructure that aims to displace fossil fuel facilities and the entire economy that relies on the cheap, reliable power they provide. So while VCs may be enthusiastic about taking a relatively small financial bet on a high-potential early-stage company, that may be all they’re able to do.
Trellis, on the other hand, is a part of the climate nonprofit Prime Coalition and funds first-of-a-kind climate projects with philanthropic capital. The nonprofit structure and philanthropy-focused funding model mean that Trellis can take a different tack on missing middle financing than traditional venture or equity investors. For example, Pierpoint told me it can choose whether to invest in a company or just a specific project. Trellis can also help de-risk projects by providing an “insurance backstop” — basically backup capital in case primary project funding falls short. “We’re looking at expanding the kinds of resources and dollars we can bring to the table in general for the ecosystem, because we think that venture can’t do this alone,” Pierpoint told me.
As with all nonprofits, generating big returns isn’t the focus for Trellis. But for traditional investors, that’s the primary goal. And while growth investments in more technically mature solutions are likely to generate consistent returns, O’Sullivan told me they don’t often provide the rarer but more alluring 10x returns that make early-stage venture capital particularly enticing. “So it’s a more balanced portfolio, typically, in that growth equity category. It’s just that you don’t see the high highs,” he said, explaining that a two to 3x return on investments is more realistic.
Brook Porter, a partner and co-founder at the growth-stage firm G2 Venture Partners, told me that focusing on the missing middle can be extremely profitable, though, and that the key to making real money is correctly identifying a company’s “inflection point” — that is, when it’s poised for significant growth and impact. That is, of course, every investor’s dream. But G2’s whole strategy revolves around identifying exactly when this critical juncture will be, tracking more than 2,000 companies per year to identify the ones best poised for breakout scale-up.
The firm spun off in 2016 from Kleiner Perkins’ Green Growth Fund, where Porter and his three co-founders previously worked as senior partners. This is where they honed their theory of inflection point investing, funding companies such as Uber, drone-maker DJI, and Enphase Energy. Porter told me that helping startups move from proof-of-concept to building “that machine of a business” requires a lot of hand-holding, and that “there aren’t as many investors with that skill set,” so it could take a while for this approach to scale.
On the other end of the funding spectrum, large institutional investors like banks, hedge funds, and asset management firms certainly have the money to help bridge the missing middle, but O’Sullivan and Pierpoint told me they’re generally more interested in fulfilling their internal climate mandates by building out more wind and solar, which generates near-guaranteed returns. These investment giants then look at their remaining cash and think, “Well, we should do something more avant garde. Let’s put money into early-stage venture,” O’Sullivan explained. That’s how many seed and Series A-focused funds raise money.
As O’Sullivan sees it, what’s happening now is “a flaw of the structure of capital allocation at the very highest level.” He thinks we could start by reorienting incentives such that large investors such as banks, asset managers, and pension funds get paid in part for helping bring new climate solutions to market, as opposed to just funding the same old, same old. That would allow them to write “right-sized checks” on the order of $50 million to $100 million to ready-to-scale companies — larger than what a VC firm would write, but smaller than what the big infrastructure investors are used to.
How would those alternate funding models actually work? Well, that’s the real question. Pierpoint said she’s often asked whether a new kind of investor or asset class will be necessary to fill the gap, and while she doesn’t have an answer, what she does know is that the group of climate tech companies that’s ready to commercialize “can’t wait 15 years until we have the exact right form of capital.”
“There needs to be urgency on the part of philanthropists, on the part of infrastructure equity investors, on the part of venture capitalists, to really start showing that we can do this,” Pierpoint told me, “and that we can bring together the right capital stacks to make this happen.”
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‘It’s truly possible that a lot of people will wake up and realize that the spell is broken from Trump.’
After Donald Trump won his second term two years ago, I wrote about “the death of climate tech” — or at least the death of the term. That largely held up. Climate-focused investors and startups increasingly dropped the label in favor of energy security, efficiency, and infrastructure resilience, often reframing their pitch to serve the booming data center industry along the way. Following the Democrats’ midterm sweep on Tuesday, I checked in with “climate tech” investors to see whether the industry might be ready for a rhetorical — and ideally literal — comeback.
On the rhetoric, they were largely unconvinced. On the substance, they were a bit more hopeful.
“This was not an election that was a referendum about climate or energy or anything even close to that,” Lara Pierpoint, managing director at the philanthropic climate tech firm Trellis Climate, told me. The consensus was that voters were far more concerned with affordability, Trump’s deep unpopularity, and, to some extent, the data center backlash. Sure, all of these issues touch on climate, but it was by no means anyone’s central message.
But that doesn’t mean Tuesday wasn’t still a win for the energy transition.
“This new Congress, controlled by Democrats, will focus mostly on energy affordability and access,” Gabriel Kra, managing director at Prelude Ventures, told me. That, he said, will likely encompass a push for more solar, wind, and batteries in energy planning — but “all in the name of affordability and reliability, not focused on climate.”
Susan Su, a climate investor and analyst, expects this El Niño cycle to bring climate back into the conversation, but “maybe more in the form of adaptation, extreme weather, and just resilience,” she told me.
“I don’t think we’re going to rush back to talk about climate this or that. I think we will rush back to acknowledging that this is the macro of all macros,” Andrew Beebe of Obvious Ventures told me, meaning climate remains one of the biggest forces shaping the global economy, whether or not investors and policymakers choose to call it that. “Maybe it’ll just get more attention in whatever name, I don’t really care.”
Still, investors aren’t expecting an immediate flood of federal climate action in the lame-duck session, although, of course, passing the permitting bill would ease the way for economy-wide electrification. And Kra told me it’s still too soon to know whether some of the Trump administration’s canceled or frozen grants for technologies like clean cement, steel, hydrogen, and carbon capture could be revived under a Democratic Congress. Restarting that funding would certainly offer a beacon of hope for clean industries that have yet to move down the cost curve and into the realm of true affordability.
Investors’ most realistic near-term hope is that Tuesday’s results mark the beginning of a more stable era for the clean energy ecosystem. “The Trump administration has just introduced so much chaos, and markets hate chaos. They love certainty,” Su told me. She pointed out that as the results rolled in, the 10-year Treasury yield dipped. Su read that as a sign that investors were rushing to lock in today’s higher rates, betting that a more stable political environment would lower borrowing costs down the road. That would both make first-of-a-kind projects cheaper to finance and push investors to chase riskier, higher-return bets in the venture market.
“Even just the perception of more certainty via a potential check on Trump — a legislative check on Trump — could bring cost of capital down, which is going to have a positive halo effect across our whole sector,” Su told me.
Kra expressed a similar hope: that the next two years will lay the groundwork for a more durable U.S. energy and industrial policy framework. “By durable, I mean guidelines and rules and laws that can survive a changed administration and a change of control of Congress,” he told me. “That will unlock affordable reshoring of American manufacturing. That will unlock an industrial and commercial response that will really catalyze growth in the economy, in clean electricity and energy, and in the innovation economy.”
I also heard some optimism that Republicans, battered by Tuesday’s results, might start to find their voice on clean energy as they begin to break free from Trump’s yoke. “My big hope would be that we finally enter a phase where Republicans can not be threatened to say what I think most of them already know, which is that the climate issues are real and need addressing,” Beebe told me. “It’s truly possible that a lot of people will wake up and realize that the spell is broken from Trump, and they will be able to, in the plain light of day, evaluate things at face value again.”
That could help depoliticize and expedite the rollout of technologies like electric vehicles and heat pumps, which have become partisan products in recent years. Meanwhile, Rajesh Swaminathan of Khosla Ventures told me via email that he sees lots of potential for bipartisan momentum behind superhot rock geothermal, fusion, critical minerals, and cost-competitive clean cement and steel.
Now, Su told me, it’s time for climate technologies that have talked a big game on affordability to prove it, giving investors and Republican skeptics no reason to dismiss them. “For years, founders have been talking about, ‘Oh, we’re not just cleaner, but we’re actually cheaper and better.’ Okay, so now it’s time to put your money where your mouth is,” she told me.
She’s also optimistic that this younger generation of newly elected lawmakers will be more open to the full spectrum of climate solutions, from adaptation and carbon removal to more speculative and unconventional ideas like solar geoengineering. “It’s not going to be Al Gore anymore,” she told me. “I think younger people have a very different view on, let’s do what we need to do to make ourselves have a livable future versus sticking to older mental models.”
But perhaps the most liberating takeaway from Tuesday night for Su and her fellow investors? “We don’t have to pretend that we’re friends with Donald Trump anymore.”
The odds of BAAJA passing likely grew a few degrees worse.
In the lead-up to the midterm elections, the outlook for passing the Senate’s bipartisan permitting reform deal during the lame-duck session was already highly uncertain. While environmental and clean energy advocates praised the transmission sections of the deal, a growing chorus warned of negative consequences from its provisions to fend off politically motivated attacks on energy projects, as well as its changes to tribal consultation in the federal permitting process. Prominent clean energy Democrats John Podesta and Representative Sean Casten of Illinois also piled on. President Trump, meanwhile, was not holding up his end of the bargain to release proposed wind projects held captive by Department of Defense reviews.
Post-election, the odds of the Bipartisan American Affordability and Jobs Act’s passage are likely a few degrees worse. Jared Huffman, the Democratic Representative from California who is next in line to lead the House Natural Resources Committee, reiterated his view that the Senate should hold off on a vote and take another pass at the bill in the next Congress, when Democrats have more leverage. Other Democrats who were sitting on the sidelines of the debate may also now feel emboldened by the party’s overwhelming win and agree that a better deal could be had by waiting.
Proponents of the bill view the election results as a clear endorsement of BAAJA. Energy bills were on the ballot, and “to reduce energy prices is to pass permitting reform,” Jason Grumet, the CEO of the American Clean Power Association, said during a call with reporters on Wednesday.
Jane Flegal, a senior fellow at the Searchlight Institute, argued on X that “most of the things” Democrats can do to address energy affordability at the federal level are in BAAJA, such as reforms to speed up the buildout of transmission lines, utility oversight, greater certainty for clean energy developers, and provisions to force data centers to cover their costs. “Dems shouldn’t wait on permitting. BAAJA is a good bill, and the filibuster and veto don’t go away in January,” she wrote. But the real reason not to wait, she added, is that if Democrats win the White House in 2028, they will need to “hit the ground running, especially on energy affordability,” and reform “takes years to implement.”
Joe Brazauskas, a partner at the government relations firm Bracewell, said during a post-election webinar on Wednesday that he’ll be watching for four indicators of how the permitting reform deal will fare in the coming days and weeks. First, will the senators who negotiated the deal come back with a major push for the bill?
So far, they don’t seem to be backing down from plans to put the package to a vote next Monday, November 9. “We don’t have more years to lose as clean energy projects sit on the sidelines, and there’s no guarantee Congress would ever find another compromise that would be able to pass the Senate,” Senator Sheldon Whitehouse of Rhode Island, one of the bill’s authors, told me in a statement. “Democrats ran and won on affordability, and this bill lowers costs for families and will allow us to start delivering on our election promises. It’s a bird in the hand. We’d be fools not to take it.”
Senator Martin Heinrich of New Mexico, the bill’s other Democrat author, provided similar comments to Politico. “We’ve been trying to pass permitting reform for the better part of a decade,” he said. “It doesn't necessarily get easier just because of who the chair is. This is the closest we have come to actually finding something that can get signed into law. I’m not going to wait.”
The second indicator is what Trump does next. Will he make any substantive wind farm approvals? Grumet said he doesn’t think the legislation will move forward unless a “significant number of those projects” being held up in the Department of Defense review process are released. With the Senate vote scheduled for Monday, the clock is ticking. Grumet was bullish that Trump would play ball, noting that “every interaction we’ve had with the administration affirms that they want to close this deal.”
There’s also the question of how hard the president will gun for the deal more generally. As I’ll explain, the bill could face steep hurdles with key Republicans in the House that may require the president’s cajoling to overcome. Several speakers in the Bracewell webinar suggested that Trump may want some legislative wins to cement his legacy. Whether that translates into a push in the lame duck, or a potential deal in the next Congress, remains to be seen.
The third indicator is whether and how the bill’s authors address the issues raised around tribal consultation and “project certainty” in an amendment before the vote. There are signs that these can be resolved. Before the election, Punchbowl News reported that the Coalition of Large Tribes, whose members control a large portion of tribal lands in the country, was negotiating to improve the bill with technical fixes rather than fighting it altogether. Several bill proponents also told me that fixes for project certainty were underway.
It’s still unclear, however, whether small technical fixes will be enough to rally more support for the bill in the House, or alternatively, if those changes turn out to be more substantive, whether they threaten the bill’s delicate bipartisan balance.
The last indicator is, will Democratic leadership support the bill? Senate Minority Leader Chuck Schumer has not yet shared his views. “The Democrats’ performance was so overwhelming last night that the outside groups that talk to Democrats, the ENGOs, have to be emboldened,” Brazauskas said. “They have very strong views on the Clean Water Act provisions, the Endangered Species Act provisions, Judicial Review, and I really think that that will impact how that’s viewed by Democrats on the Hill.”
If the bill does pass the Senate next week, it faces an uncertain road in the House, and not just because of opponents like Huffman. Republican leadership will have to make a strategic choice about where to send it.
The typical first step would be to refer it to the House Energy and Commerce Committee. At least as of a few weeks ago, however, the committee chair, Representative Brett Guthrie of Kentucky, was looking for changes to the transmission section of the bill, which would have costly consequences for Southeast electric utilities, as it would support the construction of new interregional transmission lines that compete with their business models.
If House leadership wants to avoid Guthrie’s committee, they could send the bill to the House Rules Committee, which could tee it up for a simple majority vote. The Rules Committee is also controlled mostly by southern Republicans, however, who may have some of the same sympathies as Guthrie. This is where Trump’s commitment to getting the deal done would likely be crucial.
Another option is to move the bill through “suspension of the rules,” a procedural tactic that allows the House to consider legislation without a rule from the Rules Committee — although this would mean the bill would require a two-thirds majority to pass. It is typically reserved for bills with broad consensus, such as when Congress renames post offices.
One final potential pathway is to attach a Senate-passed version of the bill to must-pass legislation, such as a government funding package or the annual military authorization bill. Congress successfully enacted the Energy Act of 2020 by attaching it to a consolidated appropriations measure after Donald Trump lost the presidential election to Joe Biden. That bill was not as controversial as BAAJA, however, and so the approach may be too risky.
Hanging over all of this, and affecting how the numbers stack up for a vote, is another question the Democratic landslide has now raised. How many House Republicans will even show up for work in the lame duck?
Democrats finally trounced Trumpism at the ballot box. But it required liberals and progressives alike to articulate more moderate views on energy and climate policy.
I’ll admit that when the polling first came in, I didn’t believe it.
A few months ago, my editor showed me the newest result from the Heatmap Pro poll that we run with Embold Research. For more than a year, we had been asking Americans whether they would support a data center planned near their home; since then, we had been watching the “support” number steadily tick down.
But the newest result beggared belief: 75% of Americans now said they would oppose a data center in their town. Most would strongly oppose it. When was the last time, I thought, that 75% of Americans agreed about anything? Was this real?
Sure looks like it. As Michigan’s newest senator-elect Abdul El-Sayed said earlier this year: People really effing hate data centers. And they apparently really hate Donald Trump, too, and the Iran War, and higher gas prices.
On Tuesday night, Democrats … well, pick your synonym. They routed Republicans. Annihilated them. Crushed them, broke them, and heard the lamentations of their donors. Democrats captured at least 54 seats in the Senate and could take more than 260 seats in the House. The national House vote snapped more than 15 points in their favor, and key demographic groups whose preferences have defined the Trump era — such as Hispanics, young men, and white voters without a college degree — all swung in the double digits to Democrats.
For millennials like me, the wave elections par excellence have been 2006, when liberals took back Congress from a desperately unpopular George W. Bush, and 2010, when the Tea Party caroused against Barack Obama. This election was bigger than either, on par with the anti-Watergate tsunami of 1974 that shaped the Democratic Party for a generation and put a new class of professional-minded reformers at its helm. Unlike in 1974, though, the new Democratic majority will not rely on an old guard of state’s rights conservatives. The South turned indigo on Tuesday night, it’s true, but that was thanks to the normal politics of booming American cities and suburbs, not century-old polarization left over from the Civil War. This is a new kind of Democratic mega-majority.
It will usher in a new kind of energy and climate politics. From the moment he rode down the escalator 11 years ago, Donald Trump has defined himself by his climate change denial. His antipathy for decarbonization and clean energy reached new heights in his second term, as his administration waged a war on renewables and dismantled the government’s already-weak ability to regulate greenhouse gas pollution. At the same time, it embraced the artificial intelligence boom and gave some of the world’s wealthiest companies a blank check to pollute.
Now that is all over. Although Trump still has two years left in the White House, he will limp to 2029 without a pliant Congress, a supportive public, or an aura of invincibility. We should, to be sure, expect at least a few Cabinet resignations in the next few weeks, so the expiring GOP Senate can confirm their replacements; and federal agencies will still roll their regulatory agendas uphill in case the GOP wins the White House in 2028. Some Trump policies — like his nuclear plan — may even meet with Democratic approval. But the administration’s fossil fuel revolution is over. And everything that Trump has done on climate and energy since taking office, especially his family’s penetration of favored mining firms, will soon face scrutiny in the new year.
That will all be good for the fight against climate change. And yet it would be wrong to presume that this new era will look like the last one — or that these new congressional Democrats will be Green New Dealers or even ardent environmentalists. “We cannot change anything unless we accept it,” Jung wrote, and Democrats have finally overturned Trumpism in part by accepting its real force in American politics. I don’t mean their willingness to accept Trump’s conduct, to be clear: The No Kings rallies and the Minneapolis rebellion saw to that. But since Kamala Harris lost, Democrats have for the first time treated Trump as a normal Republican opponent — and their fight against him not as a “battle for the soul of the nation,” as President Biden liked to put it, but as a simple verdict on a powerful establishment politician.
That has meant learning from Trump, and from his energy and affordability politics in particular. Chief among those lessons: Voters really, really care about low prices; they especially really, really care about cheap energy; and they will reward politicians who share their concerns. Zohran Mamdani, Mikie Sherill, and Abigail Spanberger pioneered these appeals last year, playing down their respective climate goals and (in Sherill’s case) running on cheaper power bills. State and congressional Democrats in 2026 picked up that strategy and ran with it.
They had help. Inexplicably, Trump undercut his promises to start no new foreign wars and cut energy bills in half by launching a new Iran war that nearly doubled some energy prices. By one estimate, Americans have paid more than $100 billion in higher fuel costs since March. Trump’s compact with voters broke in that moment. Tuesday is the result.
Democrats know it. Look at Annie Andrews, for instance, the new Democratic senator from South Carolina (!). She wants to “suspend the gas tax, unleash American energy, and get gas prices down” — in other words, she seeks to cut taxes on fossil fuels. But Andrews also wants to restore the solar and wind tax credits and increase public transit spending. And she devotes an entire paragraph of her policy brochure to the need for bipartisan permitting reform.
What distinguishes Andrews isn’t her toughness on fossil fuels, but her opposition to data centers. She wants a two-year nationwide moratorium on the facilities, to end their tax breaks, and force them to stop passing on higher electricity costs to ratepayers. Almost every single Senate Democrat who won on Tuesday, in fact, promised to make data centers pay for their full cost of electricity service — it might be the caucus’s most unifying policy. (The bipartisan permitting bill, whose fate remains uncertain as of writing, would mandate it.)
Much like Andrews, this new class of congressional Democrats sought to embrace every kind of energy source except for coal. Senator-elect James Talarico, a Democrat of Texas — get used to saying that — promised voters that “we can add to our hundreds of thousands of oil, gas, wind, solar, and battery jobs by creating new jobs” in geothermal and hydrogen. Mary Peltola, who seems likely to clinch her Alaska Senate race, argued for oil and gas’s ongoing importance, too. Adam Hamilton of Kansas, Scott Colom of Mississippi, and Andrews of South Carolina all spoke of their “all of the above” energy policy. None of these candidates are climate deniers — they all want to restore the wind and solar tax credits, and many spoke of increasing climate resilience funding — but they all have vowed to grow the energy system, not revolutionize it. Even Abdul El-Sayed, who wrote a 2019 Guardian op-ed advocating for the Green New Deal, disavowed that policy and opposed a government EV mandate.
The new state-level Democrats will push the party even further in this direction. Had Talarico alone won in Texas, he might have been able to walk a careful line on fossil fuels, recognizing oil and gas as the status quo without seeking to expand their reach. But Gina Hinojosa will also be the state’s next governor, with a much more direct role in managing the Permian Basin. To keep her job, she will have to accept that Texans' livelihoods depend on oil and gas, in the same way that Mamdani has had to recognize the reality of Wall Street's centrality to the economy of New York City. Democrats will face tough trade-offs.
They also won’t be any more radical about the 10% of U.S. emissions that come from American agriculture. If the Democrat Scott Colom holds out and wins Mississippi’s senate seat, it will be in no small part thanks to a viral commercial chiding the Republican incumbent for telling voters to choose a cheaper protein than beef. “Pick another protein?” an everyman griller asked the camera. “I’d rather pick another senator instead.”
This is one reason why Tuesday’s victory might feel a smidge bittersweet for some climate defenders. Democrats have finally trounced Trumpism at the ballot box. Progressives like El-Sayed have shown they can win in battleground states, provided a favorable national environment, and moderates have stormed the heart of MAGA America.
But doing so required everyone, liberals and progressives alike, to articulate more moderate views on energy and climate policy. As recently as 2020, belief in the climate crisis unified the Biden coalition. Now, Democrats have tacitly accepted — as a price of winning big majorities — some cognitive dissonance between what they think the science says (that climate change is an urgent and worsening problem) and what domestic politics demands (that voters still care more about cheap energy).
In other words, more than just the Trump era ended on Tuesday. The old Obama dream finally died too. In the wake of the 2012 election, Democrats imagined a permanent progressive majority shorn of right-leaning white voters. That fantasy never materialized, and chasing it may have even led the party astray. Now they have built a new congressional coalition with energy moderates at its core.
Which is not to say that Democrats will give up on decarbonizing the economy. We can expect this new congressional class to expand clean energy, push for more transmission lines, and revive electric vehicle subsidies as a solution to high gas prices. Senator Jon Ossoff of Georgia, who won one of the night’s most convincing victories, repeatedly mentioned microplastics and “forever chemicals” in his speeches, linking the contamination of human bodies to the corruption of the body politic. The fight against conventional air and water pollution, I suspect, will come back big.
The next era of American climate politics, in other words, will look different from the last one. Fossil fuel companies have long been climate advocates’ primary foil. At the national level, data centers and Big Tech could eclipse them. At least one former climate activist won on Tuesday by running against data centers and large-scale solar. Artificial intelligence, after all, is the country’s fastest growing form of industrial energy use, and it creates far fewer jobs than a chip fab or steel mill. For these reasons, you can imagine a kind of reformed normie environmentalism with anti-AI characteristics taking root in the next administration. Perhaps it already has.
Decarbonizing the economy is steady and long-term work, “a slow boring of hard boards,” to quote the political thinker Max Weber, and the politicians who next turn the screws hardest may not sit on Capitol Hill. The historic size of Tuesday’s swell means Democrats won key state offices that they haven’t held in a generation — on public utility commissions, fossil fuel regulators, and in state legislatures. They will be eager to wield their powers. With its new Democratic trifecta, for instance, Pennsylvania could allow community solar, mandate battery storage, and restrict utility profits. Decades of low-hanging climate policy will soon be plucked.
Amid all of this excitement, Democrats should keep failure in mind — the president’s and their own. Since 2020, Democrats have tried to revolutionize the energy system, reindustrialize the country, and overhaul the economy without recognizing the existence of any trade-offs between those goals. They failed, and voters hated it. President Trump and Republicans tried to reinthrone fossil fuels, give birth to a “superior intelligence,” and otherwise bring back a gloomy spoof of the midcentury American economy — without accepting any trade-offs. They failed too, and as we learned last night, voters hated them even more than they hated Biden.
The United States really does need to get better at commercializing batteries and making electric vehicles; it really must cut pollution, lower energy prices, and significantly boost its electricity generation. Both parties have failed to make progress on those goals so far. Democrats have shown they can learn from Donald Trump’s mistakes. Now we’ll see if they can learn from their own, too.