You’re out of free articles.
Log in
To continue reading, log in to your account.
Create a Free Account
To unlock more free articles, please create a free account.
Sign In or Create an Account.
By continuing, you agree to the Terms of Service and acknowledge our Privacy Policy
Welcome to Heatmap
Thank you for registering with Heatmap. Climate change is one of the greatest challenges of our lives, a force reshaping our economy, our politics, and our culture. We hope to be your trusted, friendly, and insightful guide to that transformation. Please enjoy your free articles. You can check your profile here .
subscribe to get Unlimited access
Offer for a Heatmap News Unlimited Access subscription; please note that your subscription will renew automatically unless you cancel prior to renewal. Cancellation takes effect at the end of your current billing period. We will let you know in advance of any price changes. Taxes may apply. Offer terms are subject to change.
Subscribe to get unlimited Access
Hey, you are out of free articles but you are only a few clicks away from full access. Subscribe below and take advantage of our introductory offer.
subscribe to get Unlimited access
Offer for a Heatmap News Unlimited Access subscription; please note that your subscription will renew automatically unless you cancel prior to renewal. Cancellation takes effect at the end of your current billing period. We will let you know in advance of any price changes. Taxes may apply. Offer terms are subject to change.
Create Your Account
Please Enter Your Password
Forgot your password?
Please enter the email address you use for your account so we can send you a link to reset your password:
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.”
Log in
To continue reading, log in to your account.
Create a Free Account
To unlock more free articles, please create a free account.
Current conditions: South Korea’s heat wave has killed at least 16 people after the southeastern city of Yangsan recorded an all-time national temperature high of nearly 109 degrees Fahrenheit • Washington authorities arrested a man suspected of arson as the Pacific Northwest state struggles to contain wildfires around Spokane • Typhoon Dolphin intensified into a Category 4 storm as it barrels toward southern Japan, where the ongoing heat wave has killed three female lions at a Tokyo zoo.
The United States could reach a deal with Iran as early as today to reopen the Strait of Hormuz to commercial shipping, Treasury Secretary Scott Bessent said. When asked during a Tuesday appearance on CNBC whether the agreement would allow Tehran to charge a toll to oil tankers, Bessent said the pact would include “freedom of movement.”
The announcement came as President Donald Trump faced a particularly grim economic milestone. Thanks to inflation from the Iran War, the price per gallon of diesel in the U.S. has averaged $4.09 since Trump returned to office in January 2025, according to a Financial Times analysis of Energy Information Administration data. That compares to $4.08 during Biden’s four years in office, when the Ukraine war triggered a price shock on diesel.
When the Trump administration brokered an $80 billion deal to support construction of at least 10 more Westinghouse AP1000 reactors in the U.S., the agreement came with a measure that would allow the federal government to request that the company’s owners offer shares of the legendary developer behind much of the American nuclear fleet on the stock market. It now appears that won’t be necessary. Last week, Westinghouse, a co-venture between Canadian uranium giant Cameco and Toronto-headquartered investment giant Brookfield, filed confidential paperwork with the U.S. Securities and Exchange Commission, laying the groundwork for a possible IPO.
The move came just two weeks after Holtec International, another long-standing stalwart in the industry that’s looking to play a central role in the next U.S. reactor buildout, filed its own S-1 paperwork with the SEC. At present, retail investors have limited options to bet on the nuclear renaissance. Startups such as X-energy, Oklo, and Hadron Energy — none of which has yet built a reactor or won Nuclear Regulatory Commission approval of its design — have dominated the market. Established firms such as the nuclear utility Constellation Energy, fuel maker Centrus Energy, and GE Vernova, whose joint venture with Japanese conglomerate Hitachi is a leading reactor developer, have also benefited. But Westinghouse and Holtec would be among the most serious “pure play” contenders on the market with real balance sheets.
British Prime Minister Andy Burnham took power last month after Labour leader Keir Starmer stepped down amid plummeting support within his own party, clearing the way for the populist former Manchester mayor’s democratic socialist reforms. Among the changes Burnham is expected to make on energy is giving the government an even greater role in developing fusion energy. “Because Burnham is committed to greater public control over utilities like energy, but within existing fiscal rules, his impact on fusion is likely to be about governance and ownership structures — for example stronger public or community stakes in fusion projects and more explicit links to regional development — rather than changing the headline national targets for fusion deployment themselves,” analyst Michael Heumann wrote in The Fusion Report.
It’s the type of intervention for which Japan’s fusion industry is pining. As you may recall, Japan’s conservative new “Iron Lady” Prime Minister Sanae Takaichi is going all in on reviving her country’s nuclear industry. But the FT reports that Japan’s fusion industry is now lobbying for more government support to get off the ground.
Sign up to receive Heatmap AM in your inbox every morning:
Dominion Energy’s Coastal Virginia Offshore Wind project is progressing toward coming online by the end of next year. The timeline for the 2.6-gigawatt facility off Virginia’s shores to install its 176th and final turbine pushes back the start date from early 2027. But Dominion said the schedule “reflects additional contingency for weather, vessel maintenance, loadout operations, and extended jacking activities, rather than changes to the base turbine installation rate, which has been two days per turbine so far,” according to offshoreWIND.biz. The update comes after Trump conceded defeat in his battle to use the Department of Justice to wrestle back federal permits issued to offshore wind projects under the previous administration, my colleague Emily Pontecorvo wrote in June.
On Tuesday evening, meanwhile, 10 judges on the U.S. Court of Appeals for the District of Columbia Circuit upheld an earlier injunction that said the Environmental Protection Agency could not cancel $20 billion in climate grants, ruling in a split decision that recipients should have access to the funds.
Renewables made up 54.1% of Spain’s electricity generation in July — and it’s even higher when you count Spaniards who generated solar at home for self-consumption. That’s according to the latest data the national grid operator Red Electric de España published Tuesday. Generation from renewables surged nearly 6% year-over-year to a record 14,699 gigawatt-hours last month, according to Renewables Now. Solar made up by far the largest share for the fourth consecutive month, accounting for more than 28% of the mix in July.

I’m always fascinated by the parallels between Cuba and Puerto Rico, which — despite shared colonial histories and struggles — took divergent paths in the mid-20th Century, only to both end up with aging grids that can’t keep the lights on. I was reminded of conversations I have had with Boricuas who have spent nights sleeping on balconies and porches when the electricity is out, leaving air conditioners and fans idled on hot nights. In Cuba, that’s now happening en masse as the summer heat collides with the ongoing U.S. oil embargo. “Things are only getting worse. Tomorrow it’ll collapse again ... and we’ll be back to sleeping on the Malecón,” Alexey Ríos García told the Associated Press as he used a piece of yellow foam as a pillow to cushion his head from the tough concrete.
What’s next for electric cars? There’s no consensus.
Here’s the good news on electric cars in America: Sales in the second quarter of 2026 rose by 14% compared to the first quarter, which itself was an improvement on the preceding quarter. And here’s the bad: Even those good-looking Q2 sales numbers this year represent a 20% decrease from the same period in 2025.
Welcome to a confused moment in EV history. Electric vehicle sales in this country grew at a decent rate through the early part of the 2020s — right up until they fell off a cliff last fall when the federal tax credit disappeared and cars became $7,500 more expensive overnight. EVs have begun to recover in the intervening months, especially as Americans look for some respite from high gas prices. Yet the lineup of available EVs for them to purchase has been weakened by endless volatility. Car companies struggle to keep up with Chinese competitors abroad and the Trump administration’s relentless attacks on electric vehicles here. Meanwhile, EV makers have shifting visions of what they want electric cars to be.
In the long run, nothing has changed. The automotive industry is headed in one direction: toward a future dominated by battery-powered electric vehicles. But in the short run, even as EVs are setting sales records in dozens of countries and approaching 30% of the global car fleet, it feels like everyone involved in trying to sell EVs to Americans is driving in a different direction.
Just take a quick accounting of the players. At the start of the decade, Ford pinned its hopes on the F-150 Lightning pickup truck and the Mustang Mach-E, but never figured out how not to lose money on them. Last year, the company then blew up plans for its second-generation EV to go back to the drawing board. It stood up a skunkworks team at a far-flung California factory to learn how to slash manufacturing costs and make a mid-size electric truck in the $30,000s, set to emerge from the shadows next year.
Its Detroit rival, GM, looked to be in better shape. It bet its battery-powered fortunes on the Ultium platform that would underpin many vehicles across its lineup. In doing so, it rolled out a more ambitious lineup than Ford: Not just the Chevy Silverado, Blazer, Equinox, and Bolt, but several well-received Cadillac models that breathed some life into that atrophying brand.
In 2024, GM phased out the Ultium name, seemingly to make room for the next-generation architecture to follow. And then things started to get a little rocky. The Chevy Bolt, a hero of the late 2010s era of EVs, returned just in time to be canceled so GM could build more gas-guzzling Buick crossovers. General Motors is now stuck in a wait-and-see on battery power. It may update its existing EVs, particularly the Equinox, but reportedly has no plans to expand its electric offerings until at least 2030 — when, perhaps, some of the dust of the Trump presidency has settled.
GM’s fortunes look rosy next to those of Stellantis, the global giant that owns car brands like Jeep, Dodge, Chrysler, and Ram. Like competitors Ford and GM, Stellantis has had to take on eight-figure losses as it rejiggers its business to try to compete in the electric future. But unlike the Detroit duo, it has no particular success story even to hang its hat upon. Jeep EVs have been a struggle, and the planned Ram EV pickup never even saw the light of day. Now the great electric hope for pickup trucks is the planned Ram extended-range EV, a truck that would carry a gasoline engine simply to act as an onboard generator that recharges the battery.
Among Japan’s legacy automakers, the surprising insurgent is Toyota. The world’s biggest car company has been perhaps the most openly skeptical of electrification, with leadership arguing time and again against the economic feasibility of electric cars. Public statements make it sounds as if the company is being dragged away from the combustion age against its will. And yet, as the other car companies drift into limbo amid the chaotic current market, here is Toyota, slowly building up something rather than shifting its plans every couple of years.
Though its first true EV, the bZ4x, wasn’t up the standard of today’s best EVs, Toyota has stormed into 2026 with an improved version, the bZ, plus a revival of the C-HR small crossover in fully electric form. Toyota is in the midst of electrifying the Highlander SUV and even rolled out a concept car to tease a battery-powered makeover of the iconic Toyota Corolla. While the rest of the industry retreats from EVs to formulate a new plan, Toyota chose this moment to dive in headfirst. The same is true of its frequent design partner, Subaru, which has finally introduced multiple EVs to join the race.
Compare that with the turmoil at rival Honda. Like Subaru, it borrowed technology to accelerate its entry into the U.S. EV race — in Honda’s case, building the Prologue crossover on GM’s Ultium system. The company put several new EVs in the pipeline that would be Hondas from the ground up. Earlier this year, it killed them all, with leadership convinced its efforts just couldn’t compete, especially in non-U.S. markets where it would go up against the dirt-cheap offerings coming out of China.
Then, of course, there’s Tesla. Elon Musk’s brand is suddenly thriving again, thanks in large part to the vacuum created by the rest of the industry. Tesla, for all its bad press in some corners of the internet, still makes up more than half of EV sales in America, and the numbers soared in Q2 in spite of everything that’s been going on with Musk and his company (his focus on everything else that’s not human-driven cars, his political misadventures, and his reliance on just two aging car models, just to name a few issues).
That legacy car companies have stalled and flip-flopped on electrification as the political winds have changed has left the door open for the other EV-only startups. Rivian’s much-ballyhooed R2 arrived this summer and is off to an excellent start on its mission to make that company mainstream. Slate has finally taken the cover off its affordable electric small pickup. Lucid has been dogged by bankruptcy rumors as it tries to cross the startup’s valley of death, but for now, it’s still chugging.
With the car industry so scattered and disparate on its electrification efforts, it’s hard to know quite what to make of things. We’re a long way from the go-go Biden era, when government incentives for EV production gave automakers the confidence to make proclamations about going fully electric. Back then, it felt like we might be on the cusp of seeing an EV version of just about everything. Now it feels like the United States government is fighting another losing war — this one trying to singlehandedly save petroleum power while the rest of the world moves on.
Electric cars came to America slowly, and then fast. After decades of science experiments and sci-fi promises and Who Killed the Electric Car?, EVs gained a foothold remarkably quickly after the rise of Tesla. Millions of Americans now own one. But the leap from early adoption to mass adoption — which was first delayed by factors like high prices and unease with new technology — has been further forestalled by an antagonistic administration and an industry flailing about it keep up with its whims.
Electrification is coming. But this lull isn’t going away anytime soon.
There‘s a striking amount of agreement across the political system about what the big issues are.
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.
The country's fastest-growing market for data centers is, for now, frozen. Governor Greg Abbott of Texas announced on Monday that the state’s grid authority should not allow any more data centers to hook up until state regulatory agencies complete an audit of existing projects.
As part of this audit, data center developers will have to disclose the following, according to the governor:
“Any data center project that fails to comply” with the audit “must be denied,” Abbott wrote in a letter to the agencies.
Abbott's freeze isn't quite broad enough to be called a full-on moratorium. As The Texas Tribune noted, data centers that aren’t asking to connect to Texas’ power grid can proceed as planned. But the announcement does mean New York is no longer the only state where the governor is trying to slow down data center development. As my colleague Alexander Kaufman wrote today in Heatmap AM, Texas’s governor has more than a little in common with New York’s chief executive, Kathy Hochul — above all, they’re both running for re-election in November.
Now, as far as data center regulation goes, Abbott's disclosure requirements are pretty weak tea. That’s chiefly because they are, well, disclosure requirements — they don't require that any developer actually changes their behavior, just that they publish data saying what they were going to do in the first place.
Yet his announcement put me in mind of something I've been thinking about for a while: There might be more agreement about data center regulation than we think.
Take Michigan, for instance. The progressive Senate candidate in that state, Abdul El-Sayed (who could very likely win the Democratic primary tonight), has become prominent partly by speaking out about data centers. He was early to the topic, publishing mandatory “terms of engagement” for data center developers back in January, and his own rise has tracked the issue’s rising salience in American politics.
Some of El-Sayed’s recent remarks about data centers have an undertone of surprise, as if he is a little astounded by how prominent the issue has become. “There’s literally not a conversation that I have, not a stop that I make, where data centers and AI don’t come up,” he said last month. As he recently marveled on a campaign stop last week: “People really effing hate data centers.”
He hasn't called for a national data center moratorium, though, as his allies and endorsers Senator Bernie Sanders or Representative Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez have. Instead, his blessedly short document says Michiganders should have a few “rights” when a data center wants to build in their community:
He’s also called for an end to tax breaks for data centers.
El-Sayed is on the Democratic Party's left. Earlier today, a candidate seen as in the party’s center — Iowa gubernatorial candidate Rob Sand — released his own data center plan. It demands the following, at somewhat greater length:
Look — it’s pretty similar to El-Sayed’s list! Sand might be a moderate, and El-Sayed might be a progressive, but it’s hard to see too much daylight between their data center policies.
What’s notable about these policies is what’s not in them. Neither El-Sayed nor Sand would require that data centers be powered by clean energy, as, say, the Wisconsin DSA gubernatorial candidate Francesca Hong has proposed. Neither El-Sayed nor Sand moots a statewide moratorium on data centers, either. And while their proposals would have more teeth, in theory, than Abbott’s audit, the three proposals are interested in the same questions — energy use, water use, physical footprint, and tax incentives.
As we’ve frequently noted at Heatmap, the data center backlash is strikingly bipartisan. Americans of many backgrounds, belief systems, and byways of life agree that the data center boom is becoming a problem. I wonder if there’s more agreement about the solution, too, than we might think.